Fantasy Cosmical Glitch ( ellarose & starboob. )

[starboob]

After the tavern, Juno’s mood only continues to sour. It’s not that she wants to be a damper on the mood, especially not when Olette’s trying so damn hard to not let bastards get her down, but the longer she spends on Avangeline, the more she grows to resent it. The shops, for example, only remind her of everything wrong with Desdemonia. (None of them had been swarmed with mutant flies that’d bite the shit out of anything standing still for more than a second; larvae couldn’t be seen munching on the merchandise; and, most notably, the places hadn’t smelled like fucking shit.) Each gleaming window or enchanted fucking flower is another needle wedged into her eyes, forcing the incessant reminder of what awaits her at the end of this. That she shouldn’t bother holding onto hope. Once she lets that message take root, she can’t pull herself out of her loathing. Not even for Olette’s sake.

The arcade only made things worse too, despite knowing it had been Olette’s attempt at drawing a positive reaction from the pirate. She honestly hadn’t even been able to force a reaction from herself and remained stoic the entire experience. Though on the inside, an entire storm was brewing. The entire place set her off, seeing the way that people on other worlds waste their time. That they can just go to some house full of machines to distract from their woes. That their lives are so fucking comfortable they have an entire genre of games dedicated to fighting and killing. (Even if Juno is a fan of roughhousing herself, that’s different. That sort of shit actually prepares and keeps her ready for a fight. Those simulations? It’d been clear they’re only for entertainment when she realized how gratuitous the violence and graphics had been— some outright bordered on being fucking jokes.)

This is the world Olette comes from and while she doesn’t hate Olette, she does hate her world. And, somewhere, she thought the faerie might too. Though it seems that whatever looms around dark corners waiting for her faerie, is actually nothing with how easily Olette's able to brush it to the side and continue on with her life. How she’s able to go shopping, play at the arcade. Bitterly, the pirate finds herself wondering what she actually knows about survival. And, hey, on some level she knows she’s not being fair. But this stopped being about fair the second the pirate realized the hot water she’s been letting her heart boil in.

She sets the grocery bag down on the table and then slumps over into the dining room chair the second they arrive back at Olette’s apartment. She drags her hands down her face as she tries to figure out how she’s going to survive this evening. Part of her is tempted to tell the faerie that she’d rather stay behind and sleep. The excuse would probably work, knowing that Olette is adamant that she get her rest. Though she thinks better of it when she realizes that might mean the faerie going on her own and knowing, however slim the possibility, something could go down and if Juno isn’t there to do help, she knows she’ll never forgive herself. Even with her complicated feelings, it’s not as though she’s entirely forsaken the faerie. Or even that she’s forsaken her at all. It’s just… It’s just… Juno doesn’t even know. She just wants it to go away. She wants this night to be over.

When Olette flies down to rejoin her in the open space of the box and asks her about her thoughts, Juno mentally groans, no part of her wanting to talk about the arcade. No part of her wanting to think about how those on Avangeline live and spend their time versus those on Desdemonia. (Their worlds could not be more different. They could not be more different. What the fuck are they even doing? Juno’s starting to think they must just be bored and starved of interaction.) “Skee-ball.” She answers plainly, but it’s true. Of all the games, that one had been her favorite. It’d been the most peaceful and least crowded. Air hockey is probably a close second, however. She never got around to trying the racing game herself and refused the dance game entirely— honestly, she doesn’t get how either simulation is supposed to translate over to the real world. In fact, all those games were pointless in that regard. (Again, this only confirms the leisure that is available to almost everyone on Avangeline whereas it’s only a luxury on Desdemonia. Juno can’t even think of the last time she had leisure time that wasn’t only for one night.) Her favorite part of the entire ordeal had probably been starting that fire, because at least that got everyone screaming for a reason. Not some made up reason.

“That’s cool. Can’t imagine being able to do the same back on Desdemonia.” Without meaning to, some bitterness does cling to her words. Even if it’s true, she knows it’s not necessarily a fair thing to say and she still doesn’t bother taking it back. Maybe she wants the faerie to know she’s upset by all this and maybe she doesn’t know how to communicate it normally. “Didn’t really have time for that sort of shit.”

She sits back in the chair once Olette starts talking about her hair, passively watching her in the mirror without much input. Similar to when the faerie had tried to get her opinion on the different suits. Where aesthetics are concerned, Juno’s never cared much for her appearance outside of making sure she looks tough enough that no one ever fucking messes with her. It’s not like she’s had an excess of options before either. Besides, when it had just been her, cutting her hair often was a mere cycle of growing it out, buzzing it, growing it out again, shaving the sides, letting that grow out, buzzing it, rinse, repeat. She doesn’t know that she cares how it’s going to look tonight and, if she doesn’t like it, she can always buzz it. Buzzing it is always an option.

Nothing comes to mind when she tries to think of what she might want. The longer she stares at her own reflection, the less she likes what she sees in general. (She’s tempted to grab the scissors and clip it all off.) She averts her gaze, staring at the freakish cat draped over her feet. (It probably only likes her because she’s freakish too.) “I don’t care. Do whatever you want.” She shrugs. “I trust you know what’s best. Just don’t mess with the color.”

The entire haircut, Juno’s leg bounces uncontrollably under the table, no matter how many times Olette reminds her she needs her to be still. No matter how many times Prissy grouchily swipes at the pirate’s leg. She can’t help it with the storm inside of her chest, the need to find some way to release this energy before she does something she’ll really fucking regret. But she’s stuck. Stuck here on Avangeline and steeping in all the reminders of everything she isn’t and won’t ever be. ‘When is she going to realize she only likes me because I'm the only person around?’

In the end, Olette ends up giving her an undercut, similar to the style she typically sports. However, the sides are tapered and the top portion is left longer than she usually would style it. It’s long enough that it can easily be slicked back or even styled into a small topknot bun. Worn down, the bangs can be swept over to the side with ease or she could let them frame her face with a middle part, like those heartthrobs plastered all over the convenience store magazines. It’s like the refined version of her usual look, because of course it is. Olette is from Avangeline so why would she expect less?

The pirate has no idea how she’ll end up wearing it tonight and she’s silently hoping the faerie will just make the decision for her, since she likes styling her. She similarly doesn’t know what she’s going to end up wearing, having offered little input while they were out shopping. She remembers nodding a lot, but she doesn’t remember what exactly she had been nodding at.

The suits are all black— save for one charcoal gray suit that somehow made the cut— and Juno doesn’t really notice the differences between them. She feels out of place in these clothes. She feels like she’s ruining them. “This one is fine, right?” She asks with a hint of petulance, not even hiding the fact that she doesn’t want to cycle through these clothes anymore or that she couldn’t care less which suit she ends up in. “Shouldn’t you get ready? You’re gonna take longer.” She also wants the attention off of her.

Once dismissed, she settles back down onto the dining room chair where Prissy joins her, plopping herself down on Juno’s feet as per usual. Juno pokes at the bag of snacks, but finds she doesn’t have the appetite or desire to try any of them. (All the packages are so fucking flashy and some even animate. She can’t bear to look at them.) The pirate fiddles with the end of the tie she said she’d fix herself (Olette had started to mess with it and Juno insisted she could do it), not at all making a move to fix it properly. Though she isn’t worried about that, it’ll take maybe fifteen seconds. She rubs at her temple as the knots in her stomach and chest tighten the closer they get to this fucking dinner. (Seriously, she should just stay behind. She should go back to Lady where she won’t have to be seen.)

“You must be pretty fuckin' thrilled.” Juno comments plainly, speaking up out of the blue. “You’ve been dying to get back home since this all started.” She continues rubbing at her temple, sighing. “What do you think of being back here?”

 

[ellarose]

Something's wrong. Obviously. Lettie blinks, subdued and rosy-cheeked with embarrassment when Juno waves her off with the comment that she's going to take longer to get ready. Her hands tremble with something like panic before she brings them back towards her chest and nods. "Right. Yeah..." I fucked up somewhere, didn't I? Something's wrong and it's got to be her fault. She'd been so absorbed in trying to make their day a fun one to remember... and in trying too hard she failed had miserably. (What happened to her philosophy on effort and bullshitting her way through life? Things were a lot easier on her heart back when she relied on them. But at some point she stopped wanting to do anything halfway.) While she might've been distracted today, a bit scatter-brained-- she's not impervious to Juno's mood. Her encouraging smiles did nothing, her heart aching behind it as the pirate retreated deeper and deeper into herself.) ...Could it be that the faerie doesn't know how to have fun anymore? She hadn't really been the the arcade since she was a kid. Then work consumed everything, leaving her with little time for play, so maybe Juno thought it all was childish... frivolous... silly. Or maybe Juno just doesn't like games that much? (That's probably not it. Usually Juno likes playing games with her... outside the arcade variety. They can find ways to get competitive over anything and everything. That's kinda why she thought she might like it.) In the process of backing away, she accidentally knocks the table behind her with her wings, toppling a few of her things. It's so small in here. So cramped. Confined in a tiny box with little room to move. This is how she lived, until...

Hurriedly, she turns to attend to the mess and catches her finger on a stray shard of glass in the process. 'You must be pretty fuckin' thrilled.' Juno starts to say as her phone vibrates on the desk... the texts blipping across the screen sinking her heart. 'A little birdie tells me you've come home...' She swallows hard. Not now. Please, not now. 'Pay up!!! Otherwise, it's back to the estate with you. That was the deal.' Lettie turns off her phone and tosses it away. Of course she doesn't have anything to offer. She's going to lose her place, lose everything she fought to build outside of that captive life. (They're going to own her again. Like a fucking object or a toy. And if she doesn't do what they say...) Panic has her heart in a vice-grip and she doesn't fully register Juno's question through the chain-clanks and blood rushing in her ears. Her wings glow with an uncomfortable sea of color, the branch of blood flowing from her finger grows longer as she stands there in a daze, droplets plinking to the floor. Oh. Oh, she's nauseous. She might be sick.

“Thrilled… isn’t exactly how I’d put it.” Lettie says gingerly, touching her throat while locked up in her trance-like state. The context will choke her. “It’s complicated. I really… I tried to make today a good day in spite of that. But I realize now I should’ve asked what you wanted to do instead of dragging you around everywhere. You have broken ribs, for fuck’s sake. We should’ve taken it easy instead.” It's just that staying still gives her more time to think. Time to dig herself deeper. While it is true that she wanted to make Juno happy, she can't deny that she'd also been so desperate to distract herself that she didn't think about what Juno might've needed. It'd been selfish. She can acknowledge that. After scrolling through the numerous texts informing her she'd been fired, scrolling through the ones demanding that she pay up... (She owes two months worth of payments that she doesn't have a cent for. While she hasn't hit her deadline, she's run out of time to stop the estate from taking her back in. When she doesn't respond, they're going to send someone after her if she stays for much longer. It's all going to catch up with her, no matter how much she smiles or pretends otherwise.) “I was being stupid and inconsiderate. I’m sorry, Juno.” She's sorry for hiding the truth, too. Sorry she's like this. But she can't say that.

Lettie glides across the kitchen to find a bandage. She totally ruined what might've been their last day. She's a mess. She can't deny this. In Avangeline, she's a fucking mess because her life's a fucking mess. Not the faerie she got the chance to be in the worlds beyond everyone else dictated she was 'supposed' to be. A place where she didn't have to be such an actress all the time. It pins her in a place where she can't confide in Juno. Where she can't explain what the fuck is going on with her. She shakes her head quickly, wishing she could press reset her brain. (Or the whole day, for that matter.) "If you don't like your haircut, you can tell me. I won't be upset... it's your hair and you don't have to go along with what I picked." The pirate had already been forced to go along with whatever she wanted all day. She stares at her feet, admonished by the thought. "I can fix it after I get ready."

It has to be after, though, because Lettie will only make it worse while her hands are shaking like this. The faerie, still unable to look at Juno, whirls towards the bathroom and shuts herself inside. Whatever strings had been holding her together snap with the closed door standing between them. She falls to her knees and, sure enough, gets sick. (Something needed to come out... if it can't be words, she guesses it has to be her lunch. Ew.) While cleaning herself up, she calls out to insist she's fine. Totally... fine. "You don't look fine." Winnie whispers from their bucket. Lettie waves them off dismissively. (Stars, she spends more time sitting on the floor and staring at the wall then she actually spends getting ready.) Eventually, though, she scrapes up the willpower to stand and look at herself in the mirror. Her job with the corp is the only one she's got left. As much as she dreads it, she needs to attend this dinner... and if a miracle occurs, maybe they'll pay her enough to satiate those bastards at the estate before they can send their goons to hunt her down.

Fortunately, it doesn't actually take that long for Lettie to figure out what she wants to wear. Rather than cycling through various options, the faerie selects a strapless, sleek white gown she'd been saving for a special night. It has a simple but elegant silhouette-- the only bit of flair is in the sparkly but subtle patterns adorning the bodice and sweetheart neckline. She settles for a natural make-up look to compliment the simplicity of the dress and rather than wasting time testing out different hair-eye color combinations, she simply lets her glamours fall. The concept of going out in public like this makes her heart pound... but as she stares at her reflection, it begins to settle. To steel. This is her reflection. Hers. She's determined to do this, at least. After acting and feeling like a fake bitch all day, she wants something to feel real. More than that, she wants Juno to see some part of her that's real.

She'll show everyone that she's changed. She's not the same faerie she was since her disappearance.

Lettie braids her hair into an up-do, mostly to test the steadiness of her hands. (...Just in case Juno wants alterations to her haircut. No way is she going to make things worse than she already has.) Finishing, she takes a deep breath and fidgets with the loose white strands. Honestly, she can't really focus on her hair right now. The braids are a touch messy in places... but it'll suffice. (It'd be nice to splash some cold water over her face, but she'd ruin her make-up doing that.) She settles for taking another deep breath before stepping out of the bathroom.

Rather than posing or asking for an opinion in the doorway, Lettie glides into the kitchenette to get herself some water. (The corp has taken care of her place all this time, considering she still has her place and her power hasn't been shut off... so it's possible they'll help her out.) She gets a second cup for Juno while she's at it.

"I'm a terrible hostess. To be honest, I rarely have company over here." Lettie mentions, setting the glass of water down on the table in front of Juno. (She's only ever trusted Ravan and Ariel with where she lives. She's dealt with too many stalkers to take just anyone back to her place.) Then she sits herself down in the chair across from her. "But at least I have two chairs." She tries to tease like normal. "...'Course, I found them in an alleyway. We could take them over to Lady before the dinner, if you want." She tilts her head. "I bet Abby would love to meet Prissy, too." And if any of those estate guys break in later to search for her, she wants to make sure Prissy's anywhere but here. After a moment, she finally brings her eyes up to meet Juno's gaze. (...She never fixed her tie. The faerie lets it slide. Fuck it.) "Do you want me to fix your hair?"

 

[starboob]

Juno resolves to leave. Olette’s already gone. She has been since they arrived on Avangeline, maybe even before that, and Juno doesn’t want to be the pathetic one who clings to phantom threads. While before she had been fierce in the decision to stick with the faerie, make good on her oath, and try to make the most of their limited time together, today has taught her that putting her happiness on an altar and sacrificing it for Olette is not worth it. The goddess can judge her all she wants. Or not, because she’s dead. Regardless, the faerie has already said that Juno can back out whenever she wants and Juno’s decided that that time is now. This will be their last night together and as soon as it’s over, as soon as she’s certain the faerie is asleep, she’s going to slip away. Juno knows that leaving in such a way will hurt Olette and she wants it to. It’s not malicious. Not necessarily. But if she hurts her badly enough, she should take the hint and leave her alone. She wants to be left alone, because she's only safe when she's alone.

While there is this stupid mission, that stupid cube, she’ll tell the cube to leave her out of it. To get Olette a new necromancer. Fuck, she’ll give the little assholes a list of the ones she knows, but she won’t be doing this. She’ll face her demons on Desdemonia or figure out how to run from them. If the cube tries to force this, she’ll show it just how unbreakable her resolve in this is.

All while this idea lingers in her head, rolling itself around until it becomes a perfect pearl, there’s no ignoring the twinge inside her chest when she detected Olette’s distress after she pushed her hands away earlier. There’s no ignoring that the faerie does feel bad for today. But today isn’t the problem. The problem is Avangeline and while Olette says that her feelings being back home are complicated, she doesn’t deny that she is thrilled. Juno takes that message to heart. Avangeline will never be the pirate’s home. She would sooner burn it to the ground than ever settle in a place that would never want her.

And up until a few minutes ago, Olette hasn't even been real with her all damn day, now that Juno’s analyzing the events of today and building her case. She hasn’t been the Olette she’s grown to like. She’s been… She’s been someone else. (Lettie.) And, sure, she’s allowed to have her secrets, they don’t need to share every waking thought they fucking have, but she thought she meant more to the faerie than those fake masks she once said she was tired of wearing. Juno can even understand needing time to come forward, but she didn't have to fucking pretend. ‘Fake bitch.’

Of course, the second she has that fucking thought, Olette glides out of the bathroom. Without her glamours. The pirate is hesitant to assume that she’s finished getting ready, but it becomes clear she must be when she returns to the subject of the pirate’s hair. Olette without her glamours doesn’t encourage Juno to rethink her decision, but it does encourage her to dig somewhere for her empathy. To try and remember that there is (supposedly) something after her, that that could be the reason for her complicated feelings. (And yet she still never denies being thrilled. Juno has to remember this, for the sake of her survival.) The nightmares might have exaggerated what could happen to her, as Juno knows some of hers were exaggerations or approximations of events, but there is a reason for her odd behavior. Some part of Juno grasps onto this, but it’s a weak and flimsy thing liable to slip through her finger or snap at a moment’s notice.

She accepts the water, at least, taking a few sips though she still isn’t much in a teasing mood. “The cube will just fuckin’ burn them up. Just be another fuckin’ mess to clean.” Juno says this flatly, not even considering the option. Aside from the likely mess, she’s not going to steal Olette’s two chairs. She also isn’t going to steal her fucking cat, but she does see the opportunity to introduce Prissy to Abigail as a way to also inform Marjorie of her plans. That will make slipping away easier. Considering this, she agrees. “Abigail’d like that. Might as well bring that bucket along, too.” She will steal Olette’s former sink ghost, now bucket ghost. It’s the least she can do, she supposes. Plus, Weenie and Abigail will probably get along and Abigail will need a new companion once the cube is no longer part of the equation. (And if the cube decides to take Abigail? Then she supposes that Weenie can be a replacement. They’re weird enough that it should work.)

The pirate smooths back her hair, then gathers it into a topknot bun as a means to style it. She doesn’t give a shit about the haircut. It’s hair. While a style like this completely reveals her scar and makes the Shrike’s marking obvious, she’s done caring what Olette thinks. Maybe if she’s reminded of how harsh she is compared to her perfect world, she’ll remember that everything between them has been a fluke. That she’s just some insignificant cosmical glitch in her story. ‘We’re even dressed as opposites.’

“Don’t wanna be fuckin’ late. Should leave and go do that now, eh?” She downs the rest of her glass and rises, then bends to scoop up the cat lounging across her feet. She also grabs the bucket before they leave and only explains it as, “Another new friend for Abigail.”

As they make their way back to Lady, the atmosphere is still tense from all things that have been left unsaid. Though Juno seems more pensive than pissed off which, she supposes, might be a positive shift. The world still annoys her, but she finds more ease knowing she won’t ever have to see this place again after tonight. Guilt and grief also commingle within her chest, knowing her secret intentions and knowing that, at least at first, this will hurt Olette. (Seeing her without her glamours reminds Juno, too, of the faerie she does like. The one who is real. It tempts her to reconsider, but she has to remind herself that no matter what the ending will always be the same. She can save more of herself is she acts swiftly now instead of desperately later.)

When they arrive on Lady, Juno excuses herself and tells Olette she needs to find Marjorie. This is true, of course. What she doesn’t say is that she intends to tell the old skeleton to have Lady ready at Avangeline’s lowest tier by sunlight. Marjorie isn’t pleased to hear this and tries to persuade Juno otherwise, to encourage her to wait this feeling out so that she does not do anything irrational and potentially irreversible, but Juno doesn’t listen. Ever the stubborn pirate, she insteads threatens Marjorie and forces her silence on the subject. This entire conversation had been communicated through signs, behind the closed door of her study as she knows Olette has been picking up on what the hand signals mean between herself and her crew. (At one point, this delighted her. Now she wonders why the faerie even bothered if she never planned on staying.)

She grabs a few things from her room, too, like an extra dagger to slip into her boot and ends up stumbling across the scarf from the last time they attended a formal dinner. (But the dinner back then had been cube orchestrated and private and before all of this. It was better.) The scarf is white again, Olette’s glamour on it having since drained away. She clutches onto it then shoves it into her pocket for no reason in particular.

Before leaving, she makes sure that the bucket ghost is situated with the rest of the crew and slyly informs Inez that the ghost is to become their newest crew member. Already, it seems that Weenie has taken to the crew, in particular, Phillip. “A most powerful form, Lady Phillip!”

Then, before she knows it, they’re on a train rocketing up towards the upper tiers. Things between them remain tense, if not awkward, the longer that Juno remains withdrawn. The thick wall forming between them can be felt and when Juno stares down at her empty, fidgeting hands, she knows it’s her fault they’re like this right now. Olette’s trying and Juno’s already given up.

She sinks down in her seat, pinching the bridge of her nose. Even with everything, her plan to depart, her hurt, she doesn’t want to end like this. She’s always going to remember Olette and she doesn’t want to remember her upset. Dangerous as this may be, she doesn’t want to be entirely icy towards the faerie. But how does she even change course now?

“Today’s been a lot.” Though she doesn’t say why. “Can we get shitfaced at this thing?”

 

[ellarose]

“I’m glad Winnie gets along so well with the crew. They were probably really lonely while I was away.” Lettie does try to find things to talk about. "...I like how your hair looks pulled back. It's nice to see your eyes." It doesn’t seem Juno is in the mood for conversation, though. She hasn’t been all day. Even after she apologized, Juno hadn't said much of anything to acknowledge— to confirm or deny— whether or not she'd felt pushed around when she showed her around Avangeline. Hadn't told her they were good. And now she's not sure about anything anymore. The concept for the day had been bittersweet, saying goodbye to the few things she liked about her home before potentially leaving it forever. Lettie knows she went wrong somewhere... but she has so much on her mind that she can't even begin to decipher what it was that set everything on this uneasy course. Now she just wishes it never happened. Those places from her past should have just stayed in her past... she never should've tried to share them.

Juno proceeds to act mostly standoffish and closed-off, which only contributes to the faerie’s rising panic about everything that's been catching up with her. What did you expect? You fuck everything up. Maybe... maybe Juno just wants her to shut up already. Lettie shrinks, convinced now that she's been annoying and insufferable. As that fear closes it's cold claw around her heart, she loses the will engage in small-talk. Loses the will to hold her smile intact. She surrenders and lapses into the silence the pirate seems to want from her, rubbing her arms for comfort and staring blankly out the train window at the passing lights and buildings.

Lettie's heart pounds at the same speed as the train on the tracks as she grapples with the fact that she's going glamour-less on the streets of Avangeline for the first time ever. Though she considered sharing that with Juno, she swallows all her words. (...She's just going to hate the sound of her own voice if she talks now.) Besides, she'll probably think it's vapid and dumb to get worked up over this... she's made it clear doesn't care for hair or clothes or anything like that. She always had, of course, but she'd made it especially apparent tonight. Knowing that these things bother her so much might only make her think even less of her.

"I... better not. I’m feeling nauseous again.” Lettie admits, picking listlessly at her bracelet. She's thoroughly exhausted with panic and unease, kind of hates herself right now, and drinking will only make it worse. Besides, it’s also possible the drinks she had earlier are what got her into this mess in the first place. What if she said something stupid while she was tipsy? She doesn’t want to make whatever this is worse. She just wants to leave Avangeline behind already and forget it ever happened. And if the shadow entity shows up by some twist of fate (and it just might knowing them) she needs to make sure she’s prepared to fight, too. It doesn’t seem like that part of their mission is on Juno’s mind at the moment. But Juno’s mind has been elsewhere all day. “You can if you want to. Take 'em for all they're worth." She gives a thumbs up. "I'll look after you if you want to get drunk, if things go shit bananas...." Lettie taps her fingers over her thigh. She was going to paint her nails and forgot. (Like it matters.) She feels like she's being watched again. "I just need to take care of something first.”

The train screeches to a stop. Lettie leads Juno towards the fancy hotel building hosting the event. A magnificent fountain trickles outside with stone pathways framed by finely groomed hedges and flower gardens. People speak quietly amongst themselves in small clusters, standing by an outside bar near the entrance. Muffled orchestral music can be heard from inside, where guests are dining and chatting in the golden light of sparkly chandeliers through the large arched windows. Rather than go directly in, Lettie spots Ravan outside and taps him on the shoulder.

“...I’m gonna visit the graveyard before I go in there.” Lettie says, wasting no time in revealing what the 'something' was as she gestures to a floating island nearby, dotted with tall monuments and stones. She summons up her magic circle and reaches inside for the stray flowers she collected from the floor of Ariel’s shop, fiddling awkwardly with the stems. Juno might have liked the graveyard more than the arcade. Who knows? But she wasn't going to go there with her mother's statue staring down at her. “Not for hijinks or anything. Our mission's been getting more intense… especially after that last one.” She shrugs, looking at her feet. “I figured this might be my last chance to say goodbye. I’ll be back.” Then she nods at Ravan, who can't seem to stop gawking at her as if he's seen a ghost. "...Ravan, would be be a dear and get Juno a drink?"

Lettie flies to the graveyard and approaches the statue that was built in tribute to her mother... tall, solemn and monumental, with a beautifully sculpted face and wings. Whoever made it worked themselves to the bone to capture every single detail. Instead of standing there in her shadow, the faerie glides to the back of the statue and drops to her haunches there. She brushes aside the overgrown foliage draped over the corner of the block her mother's figure stands on, revealing where she carved Lina's name all those years ago. Just her name... as the context of the year or her surname would have broken her wrist. Lina wasn't granted her own grave. None of the faeries that get fed to the Reaper do. But she had to leave something there. Evidence that she was there once. (She lost them around the same time... Lina and mother both.) She sets the flowers down, contemplatively silent for a minute before she speaks. "I'm sorry I haven't come to visit in a while. I've been... busy. For reasons that you'd probably be happy about." She reaches for her locket. "I've been traveling all around, just like we always wanted to, seen all kinds of different places. Other worlds. They need help. This is something bigger than I ever thought I'd get to be a part of... and I've been doing my best to fight." I wish you were here. "I don't have long. I needed to tell you that this might be the last time I get to visit this way." Her hand moves to her bracelet. "It's not because I've forgotten you. I'm never going to forget you, Lina. I promise."

"...Who would dare deface Titania's monument like this? Somebody really ought to report that vandalism to the elders. Get that mess cleaned up." A voice crackles out from the underbrush behind her and Lettie tenses. Her wrist blazes gold, a chain manifesting outward from it, and the demon at the other end of it yanks hard-- reigning her back into his arms. Shit. "My stars, Olette. You'll be joining her soon if you aren't careful! You should know that faeries who don't answer when they're called get punished." A claw closes around the back of her head, elongated shard-shaped fingers stretching over her face. She squirms but it does little to free her. (She's helpless like this. Like a fly in a fucking web.) The demon goon twists her face around, forcing her to look at him and she bares her teeth as most of her up-do unravels from the impact. "I've been sent to collect you for the estate. Let's not make this harder than it has to be, all right? They get so damned testy when I damage the goods." He strokes the bandage over her cheek, peeling it off to examine the cut underneath. "Wherever have you been, Olette?"

"Unprecedented work trip. I just got back... so I need a little more time." Lettie bargains. If she doesn't get paid, she needs to find that shadow entity tonight. Needs to get the fuck off of Avangeline and never come back. "Please. I'm about to meet with my boss..." She points her free hand towards the other island. "Over there. And as soon as I get paid, I'll send you what I owe. I just need tonight. If I don't have it by sunrise, you can collect me in the morning. I'll go without fighting."

"Hm. You do have that cushy job at the creation corp, don't you?" The demon stares at the fancy building from afar, piecing together the implications. Then he releases her chain with a snap, releasing her and pushing her backward. "Fine. I'll accept your terms. You better hope it's enough to satiate Asmodeus. He's been so eager to have you back." He grins, showing off his pointy teeth as he draws a glyph that forges a golden hourglass. With the elegant sweep of his claw, it flattens and brands itself against Lettie's scarred wrist, hissing as it blazes and gets absorbed into her skin. Fuck. "Just to ensure that you keep your word. You faeries are notorious tricksters. Go on, then. Your time is running out."

Fuck you. Lettie rips herself away, a blend of fire and unshed tears burning in her eyes, and abandons her plans to say goodbye to mother. It's not going to matter much if she ends up joining her within the span of a few hours. She flies to the other side of the graveyard, stopping briefly behind one of the larger stones. Her hands tremble too violently to accomplish anything more than brushing the dirt from her dress. She tries to style her hair the way it was before... but she messes up once, twice, and then three times before deciding that this is time she can't waste. She lets it fall down around her shoulders, brushing through it with her fingers. It's not so unusual for her to want to change her hairstyles midway through the night. Lastly she clasps Lina's bracelet over her wrist, as it had fallen off when the golden chain appeared. As she does so, she notices a countdown emblazoned on her wrist. The numbers are blinking down. Frantically, she rubs her thumb over it... but that isn't enough to make it go away. She has ten hours. Ten hours to do something before she's lost. Swallowing hard, Lettie glamours Lina's bracelet to be a bit chunkier in order to keep that part of her wrist concealed.

It's highly possible that no one else will even see the countdown. Faeries are always made to suffer in silence. Still... Lettie's afraid she'll be checking it all night if it's right there in front of her.

"Pull yourself together, Letts." Lettie gives herself a flimsy pep talk. Her world is crumbling all around her. "You have to do this." She does have Juno to help her... but thinking of Juno right now just brings back the pangs of loneliness she felt on the train there. Whatever is going on between them right now, she resolves to figure it out and fix it later. But first, she needs to fight in order to have a later. Whatever the case, she has a real bad feeling. She tried to make today a fun last day and ended up concocting a terrible day for them instead. Because she jinxes everything. (Most of all, it breaks her heart to think she spent her last day being a pain in Juno's side instead of giving her good memories.) "...I'm dead. I'm so fucking dead." She smacks her cheeks once, twice, as if whacking herself might stop her from outright hyperventilating. But she has to try. She's not going to leave Juno without fighting like hell to stay. That wouldn't be fair, after everything they've been through.

Lettie 'pulls herself together' (as much as she can, anyway) and rejoins Juno and Ravan outside of the party. It seems they got drinks at the outside bar. That's good.

"Lette, your hair." Ravan points out. He's staring at her again like he's seen a ghost or something.

"Oh, this? It was messy anyway, so I decided to take it down..." Lettie laughs, tugging nervously at the ends. "Fuck it, right?"

"No, I mean..." Ravan looks all around them, at some of the scattered people who stare and point in their direction, before looking back at her. He's so shocked he's dropped his usual fancy-talk. "You're going glamour-less. In public." Which, yes, is a big deal actually. Right. And yet she almost forgot about it, as she's been preoccupied with the shit banana sundae she's just been served. "You never go glamour-less in public. You don't even leave your room glamour-less. Is everything okay?"

Lettie looks at Ravan, full of his good-natured concern. She wishes she could break down and tell him everything. To ask to be spooned and consoled. But even just the wish burns up in her throat.

"Right. It's stupid, I know... but I am kinda freaking out about it." Lettie admits. If she keeps this about her glamours and the mission, then... technically the subjects don't breach curse territory. "But we have bigger issues than that right now. I've been working on conserving my magic. That entity we're trying to find is really powerful. If it shows up, we should be ready for it." She nods sagely. "It, uh, kinda tried to eat us the last time we saw it." She looks at her feet. At the dirty hem of her dress. Just like the fucking Reaper. It looms closer with every passing second. She shivers. "...Be honest, Ravan. Do I look creepy?"

"Yes." Ravan nods, not even hesitating. Lettie glares and he lifts his hands up defensively. "Which, as you know, coming from me is a compliment. You are eerie and beautiful in your eeriness. You told me to be honest." She rolls her eyes. Okay, fine. That's fair. "Worry not. I will challenge anyone who dares insult you to a duel. More than that... I am proud of you, Lette."

Lettie manages to smile at that, her freckles sparkling back to life. (It feels better knowing Ravan is proud of her than it is knowing he thinks she's still pretty.)

"...Juno, have you seen anything suspicious yet?" Lettie turns to Juno a bit shyly, wresting for the courage to search her eyes. It is nice to see more of her face with her hair up like that. (She just wishes she didn't have to second guess whether or not she even likes her haircut it every time she looks at it... maybe it's too much.) "Anything we should investigate before we go in there?" She looks around the courtyard. There's not a lot happening out here. Maybe part of her is stalling this one nice moment. She clutches her bracelet. But she can't for much longer. She's running out of time. "I hate these things... it's a pretty boring crowd in there. But it's possible someone in there might know something. They're all about studying ancient magic and relics, so it's possible one of them has come in contact with it. Let's make sure to be careful, okay?" She nods determinedly. She just has to focus. Has to do this. "I got you."

 

[starboob]

Juno watches as the bartender pours a round of shots for a group before them. The glasses are all lined up in a row and when they pour the alcohol, it actually jumps from glass to glass until the last is filled. Then, on its own accord, fire swirls up from the liquid, fanning out into skirts of flames to reveal sensuous dancers on the surface of the alcohol. “Whatever that shit is,” she mutters to Ravan, “I don’t fuckin’ want that. Is anything fuckin’ normal here?”

Ravan chuckles at the pirate’s assessment, but the sound isn’t amused. It’s nervous and Juno has already spotted the question on his face that he’s too scared to ask. ‘What goest on between thee two?’ Or some equally dorky phrasing. Pointedly, Juno ignores the obvious question and the new tension forming between herself and Olette’s best friend. ‘This is just fucking great.’

A drink is eventually placed in Juno’s hand, something plain and brown. It goes down smooth, hits her fast, and she orders a double shortly after, not at all concerned about the entity or shit bananas. On some level, she knows she ought to be alert. On some level, she knows she’s still not free of this mission just yet. On some level, she knows she’s got to do what she can to protect Olette and make good on her oath while she’s still holding herself to it. She sips the second drink as compromise. (Shit is strong as hell. Or maybe it’s that she’s only eaten toast and a basket of fries today.)

While her features remain flat, her face is flush and warm from the alcohol. Her eyes scan over the stiff crowd, noticing how some openly stare and jab their fingers in her direction. She catches one gaudy little (not so little) winged figure mouth the word, ‘Human’ like saying it might burn a hole through their tongue. She considers what smashing their skull would be like. Or maybe breaking their wing, if she wants to be less homicidal and more of an asshole about it. But any of that will have to wait until tomorrow. When it won’t reflect so poorly on faeries.

When Olette finally rejoins them, Juno, like Ravan, notes the faerie’s changed hair but for different reasons. And when the supposed friend admits to thinking she looks creepy, the pirate growls, though it’s low enough that it’s lost to the music flowing out from the venue. But it does, again, remind Juno of the faerie’s hang-ups and what a gesture like this means. It shows her own seriousness and dedication to the mission Juno has secretly quit on. Guilt hardens in her stomach. She takes a large sip from her glass. ‘Won’t matter after tomorrow. You were never noble anyway.’

Juno shakes her head to the question. It honestly hadn’t even occurred to her to be scoping out the partygoers for clues, because her own convictions started to make their exit when she made the decision to leave. Rather, she’s been focusing on the problems that will be catching up to her tomorrow and forming plans to protect herself. Seeking out information on the Matrix hasn’t been a top priority for that reason. She takes another sip. Then another when Olette reminds her of their three words and how true those have been. How it’s always Olette getting them out of trouble, because she’s the fucking faerie and nothing can change that. She doesn’t need Juno. She’s going to be fine without her.

“I know. I got you too.” At least for tonight. She finishes her drink and then follows the other two into the venue.

The orchestra music hits Juno like a wall, then wraps around her as she grows accustomed to the sound. This, at least, is tolerable. Round tables are scattered throughout the room— some set on the floor and some set on floating clouds that hover above them. Most of the attendees have settled at their tables, but there are still stragglers— like themselves— that are still meandering inside and finding their places.

As they walk through the venue to find an empty spot, Juno notes that most people here straight up ignore her presence— blatantly bumping into her or, once, even asking if she’s event staff. Her patience wears thinner and thinner with each passing second, the entitled air these people carry with them practically chokes her. Though more rich than even the duchess can afford, everything about this dinner brings up memories of that woman and her snobbish ways. (On one occasion even, her heart stops when she spots a woman with cinnamon hair. But then she turns around, revealing her three eyes, and Juno settles again.)

“I don’t know what the fuck to look for. Everyone here’s an ass.” She's about to say that she doubts anyone will say anything to her anyway, when she feels someone tugging on her sleeve from below. When the pirate looks down, ready to snap, she sees a tiny child with black feathered wings and a single horn sticking out of from the top of her forehead, trying to get her attention. “Hey, mister… Missus? Warrior.”

“...What the fuck.”

“What happened to your wings? My friends and I want to know. Have you committed crimes?”

‘They’re children, Juno.’ The reminder sounds like Olette and part of her wants to spitefully ignore the words, to lash out, but she remembers the tavern. She remembers that Olette is the one who will be left behind here. Who will have to face the consequences. 'Fine. But I'm gonna say fuck.'

She lifts her scarred brow. “Do you want to die?”

“What??” Her little mismatched lilac-cyan eyes go big.

“‘Cause if I told you, I’d have to fuckin’ kill you.”

She blinks, considers this, and then grins wide, showing off rows of sharp teeth. It’s threateningly cute. “Sweeeet. You’re my new best friend. C’mon, I wanna introduce you to my other friends. What’s your name? I’m Trixie and I’m going to be a star.” Regardless of whether or not Juno agrees, the little demon has already lifted herself up with her wings and is leading Juno by the hand over to a gang of mischievous looking children. The pirate looks back at Olette and Ravan, shrugging helplessly. ‘Fuck it.’

As they cross from one side of the venue to the other, Juno catches snippets of conversations and most of it infuriates her.

“I almost couldn’t tell that that was Titania’s daughter.”

“Who? …No!”

“Stars, no wonder faeries need their glamours.”

Laughter shortly follows these comments, all coming from a group of angelic women and when Juno glances their way, they're openly pointing and gawking at Olette. She scowls at them, taking in their features and committing them to memory for unsuspecting revenge purposes later. ‘Put a little bone dust in their drinks… See if they can laugh with a skeleton hatching from their fuckin’ throats.’

“Her mother didn’t even like her, I heard.”

“Probably why she disappeared. As if becoming one of the fallen wasn’t traumatic enough—”

“—Imagine giving birth to a creepy little fly for a daughter!”

“More like a zoraptera.”

Wait. Juno’s heard that one before. She can’t place it right now, not with the gang of children all glomming onto her, but she swears that’s not from a nightmare. (She also adds these guests to her revenge tally. She should have brought more bones.)

One of the children grabs Juno’s face, physically forcing her attention away from the cruel adults. This child has little rams horns growing in and short spikey hair. They poke her scar, causing her to flinch back. “Where’d you get that?”

“Can I have a face scar?”

“Trixie says you commit crimes.”

“None of your fuckin’ business, prick.” Juno starts, addressing the children in order. “Sure, if you fuckin’ want. That’s true.” The children all squeal and giggle as if the pirate has actually said something amusing. One of the children asks about the number of crimes she’s committed, another asks her to commit a crime to prove it, and another starts wheezing that they don’t want to be associated with a criminal because it will ruin their university application. (This kid is, like, five too.) While Juno sees their enthusiasm as a way to use them for her revenge plans… she also thinks better of it. Because they’re children and for all she knows, she’s planning revenge on their parents. Even with her recent regressions, she sees that as a problem. But this doesn’t mean she won’t use them. (This also doesn’t mean she’s forgoing her revenge plans. She’s just not going to use the children to achieve it.)

She reaches into her pockets for her shards and turns them into miniature four inch skeletons, handing each child one. “You can commit crimes when you’re twelve.” This feels like a responsible crime committing age as Juno started much younger and she’s come to understand that wasn’t normal. Twelve feels more age appropriate. “For now, learn how to fucking pull a prank first.” She points to the mini-skeletons that are now climbing on the delighted pack of demonic children. “Stick these in mommy and daddy’s purses. They’re gonna have a fuckin’ riot when they get home.” But probably less because of the mini-skeletons in their purse and more so because of the missing wallets and personal devices.

The children start shouting incomprehensibly and scatter. (Save for the nerdy one concerned about university. They remain at the short people's table and it looks like they're trying to teach their skeleton some game involving X's and O's.) Whether or not Juno’s plan works is debatable as she can already see the children trying to get their mini-skeletons to fight one another, but at least it buys her some time away from them.

Satisfied that she's at least handled that situation appropriately, she turns to face the one she very much isn't handling at all. When her eyes land on Olette, she feels gravity pulling her towards the faerie but her feet are leaden and don't move her forward. She fidgets, unsure of whether or not her place is still beside her. Even if she's here for another night, she doesn't know. Everything between them is still awkward (because of her) and it probably will get worse, because that's the way these things go. She glances over towards the bar, sees a woman eyeing her and swallows hard before her lip curls in a, 'Fuck that,' manner. (But at least that confirms one thing for her.)

Juno grabs a champagne flute from one of the numerous floating serving trays, striding over to Olette and Ravan. She downs the flute and looks at the vampire wannabe. “Thought you were gonna duel the assholes at this event? If you leave it to me, this hotel will be scraping brains from the chandeliers for months.” This is more or less a courtesy warning. The dork has an hour before Juno's veins are flowing with alcohol more than blood and she'll be bold enough to try something. She's too amped to be still.

Then she looks at Olette, swallowing the uncomfortable lump in her throat. “I’m working on intel." If the children behave. (They aren't. One just slipped a mini-skeleton down the back of someone's shirt.) "You hear anything?” She debates mentioning the zora-something comment, but decides against it. It was fucking weird, sure, but she still can't place it and she knows... She knows this is hard on the faerie. She won't bring it up. She smooths her finger over her scar. "Can't believe you have to fuckin' work with these jerk off."

 

[ellarose]

Lettie's pulse flutters, racing like a ticking time bomb. This could be her last night. She reaches for her bracelet, twisting it around her wrist while resisting the urge to check the countdown underneath. This could be the end of everything. Come on. Show yourself, you fucking bastard. The faerie scans the crowd imploringly. She wishes the entity would just emerge and attack right now. She'd unhesitatingly rip the Matrix out of its chest with her claws in front of all of these party guests if it meant she could leave Avangeline before the timer hits zero. All she sees while examining the crowd, however, are demons and angels staring, laughing and pointing at her. Just like mother said they would. (At least the volume of her heartbeat thumping in her ears rises above all of the gossip? It all fizzles away into something warbled and incomprehensible. Beside her, Ravan's saying something about his new crush (a werewolf enthusiast of all things)-- probably to try and distract her with something fun. And normally the gossip would perk her up. Now she distractedly nods and laughs at the cues she's supposed to nod and laugh at...) She's being made to face all of her fears in one night and Juno is a million miles away.

No, she's still here. She's still got you. The pirate is only at the kid's table, a few paces across the room. Lettie reminds herself of the warmth she felt, hearing the words 'I got you, too' -- confirming that she's still there for her in spite of the awkwardness between them tonight. It's a similar warmth to when she caressed her face and made her vow, similar to when she holds her close to her chest. She meant it when she said she feels safest when she's with Juno. She trusts her. They have something that's worth fighting for.

But if it turns out she's fighting in vain, if she fails tonight... Lettie will warn her to sever the vow and run far away from here. Continue to live on without her, find that peaceful future she deserves. Her silenced truths are all obstacles and dangers that Juno never signed up for. And if it turns out she's really starting to hate her after today, maybe it'll make her decision to leave easier on her. She wouldn't have her throwing herself into the abyss after her, if that's where she's headed. It breaks her heart that it may end that way... but this is the hand she's been dealt. (This is collapsing in her chest is exactly why she distanced herself from everyone. Why she never let herself fall again after Lina. But... she doesn't regret meeting Juno or their time together. It'd been tough at times, yes. Inexplicably tough. But there were some good moments in there, too. Moments she would've never had if she were still here on Avangeline, working off her debts.) Lettie begins weighing her options as it becomes evident that the entity isn't going to show. She could throw down a couple of drinks, say 'screw it' to responsibility all for the sake of having one last genuinely happy moment with Juno.

But that's the same as giving up. All of Lettie's choices-- good and bad-- everything she worked and fought for up until now... she'll know the outcome by the end of tonight. Every single decision she makes from this point forward will have major consequences in whether her life continues or ends. Lina lost her own life helping her find someone who could write up a contract that might get her out of this. She can't forget that she gave up everything in that pursuit. That prevents her from making the irresponsible choice of throwing it all away.

Lettie just wishes she would've known, during their last happy moment, that it would be the last one. She could have taken another minute. She could have appreciated it just a little bit longer. The faerie knows that she's thinking like she's going to lose when she hasn't even lost yet. But reality has always been cold to her. She relied on glamours and smiles to keep herself warm... but she's dropped her glamours, dropped her smiles, and now all she has is a countdown. Ticking down her remaining seconds in time with her heart.

"Lette. Lette?" Ravan has to physically wave a hand in front of her face to get through to her. Lettie's breath shudders with surprise when she notices the sudden motion, blinking twice as she comes back into herself. "Thou art spacing out. I thought thee hath sent thy soul to the stars for a moment there." Lettie notices Juno standing there with an empty champagne glass. Oh. Shit. Shit. Have they been talking all this time? She's totally zoned out. It's too much. It's stuffy in here, it's awkward with Juno, her time is running out and it's too damned much. Who can be expected to perform under this kind of pressure? "Thee shouldst sit. I'll fetcheth thee a glass of water."

"Sorry, no, I... What were we talking about?" Lettie's gaze flicks from Juno to Ravan and back again. "Sorry."

"Intel and the jerk-offs we work with. Art thee well?" Ravan reaches to feel her forehead and Lettie ducks away from his touch, her cheeks and wings blushing pink. (This causes some partygoers nearby to stare and burst into laughter. Something about faeries and their transparent, frail and flowery-looking wings. She's heard it all before.) "...Is there something thee two needeth to work out? I can afford thee some privacy."

There are things they may need to work through, apparently. Lettie also knows won't be able to work through anything at all until some of her nervousness and fear subsides. There's too much on her mind right now to be the present faerie that Juno deserves. That's when she notices Crane in her peripheral.

"Crane." Lettie whispers, standing on her toes before remembering her wings and gliding a little higher to see him above the heads in the crowd.

"What?" Ravan tilts his head at her.

"The old man... my boss... from my department. The one who sent me to look at the cube. He might have some intel." Lettie explains. And potentially the cash she needs. If she can at least send in what she owes Asmodeus, that'll at least buy her some peace of mind. More time. There's no denying that by sending her in to touch that cube, the bastard treated her like an expendable pawn. She'd fantasized about all the ways she might chew him out in the early days, when Juno wasn't safe yet and she survived every day by the skin of her teeth... but in reality, she can't be so careless with person one who writes her checks. "I'm gonna talk to him real quick. I'll be back."

As Lettie flies off, a mini skeleton appears at Juno and Ravan's feet-- proudly presenting them with an expensive hairpiece adorned with sparkly diamonds. Ravan, briefly distracted from his concern, glances down at it with open fascination. "...One of thy minions?" He opens his palm invitingly to the skeleton. "Do these ones speaketh as well? Lettie hast spoken so fondly of thy crew. She told me they started a band."

"Olette." Meanwhile, Crane is staring down at Lettie with his same old, tired eyes. She feels resentment burning under her skin, noting the distinct lack of surprise or empathy in his gaze. Be professional, Lette. Don't fuck this up. "...I almost didn't recognize you."

"Well, I've been through a lot." Lettie says as flatly as she can. She just has to ask. "...I know you're not one for small-talk, so I'm going to get right to it. You're going to pay me for my time, aren't you? Please, Crane. Normally I wouldn't ask here. But I'm on a deadline tonight."

"For your time? No. I will pay you, Olette, for results." Crane lifts his nose in the air as he examines his glass of champagne and takes a sip. "You never used the emergency code you were given to return with your findings. Had you done your job properly, perhaps I would be more inclined to discuss this with you." Lettie's heart sinks and shivers, her face and wings paling with panic. Emergency code? Briefly, she remembers the spiel she was hit with before walking into the chamber that day. The spiel she didn't pay attention to. Oh. Um. Fuck. Fuck! Stupid Lettie. Stupid, stupid. (Okay... but still. She needed much more than a spiel for what she went through. She needed a full fledged training course.) "I told the elders that sending you would be a gamble. You faeries are so... unreliable. But they needed a faerie for the job."

"I... I've been to so many worlds. Seen so many things. I have plenty of valuable research to share with you all." Lettie shifts anxiously. "Please, just--"

"Stop." Crane sighs disdainfully, lifting a hand to silence her. "I can tell you're anxious. I understand from the news that your mother had... issues, too. I suppose you owe your dealer or something equally ridiculous?"

"My-- what? No." Lettie shakes her head. What the fuck? She balls her hands into fists, but they never leave her sides. She can't punch the man who writes her checks. "That's not what this is. Not even close."

"We've covered your apartment expenses while you've been away, Olette. What else could you possibly need the money for?" Crane pinches the bridge of his long nose. Lettie gulps. She can't say. "New shoes, perhaps? A clean dress?" He shakes his head, belittling her entire existence as he glances down at the dirtied hem of her dress. She's just a silly little faerie who likes to play dress up in her spare time. Nothing more. No substance. Just glitter and bullshit. "Don't answer that. I don't need to know. I will alert the elders and give you the opportunity to prove the worth of your endeavors later. For now, just try to enjoy your evening."

"Wait. There's another relic, Crane. And a strange entity... it came here. Do you--" Lettie blurts out, remembering what she's supposed to be talking to Crane for just before he can escape her.

"We're aware of the situation, Olette. And as I said, we shall discuss it later." Crane drones, waving her off yet again. Like she's nothing more than a fly buzzing in his ear. "Now if you'll excuse me, my family is waiting."

Lettie's arms lower limply to her sides as she watched Crane weave through the crowd away from her. The sunset gold of the chandeliers change to bluish moonlight tones as the other lights in the hotel dim. (The lights change to reflect the time of day outside... and the sun has gone down. When it rises again, Lettie's fate will be decided.) The trees along the walls glow with silvery veins, similar to those in the Forbidden Forest. Everything is sparkling and none of it enchants her. She stands perfectly still as busy partygoers bump and weave past her in the crowd. Their voices are a senseless cacophony. They know about the entity. She's not sure if this is good or bad. Prove her worth. Prove her fucking worth! How the fuck is she going to prove her worth? She doesn't even know what they want from her.

Gradually, Lettie comes back into herself and glides through the crowd to catch up with Ravan and Juno.

"They know about the entity, I guess. I should've known. The tech they invent in the creation department is top-notch. They might have the situation under control already..." Lettie shares what she learned. It's something at least. I also learned that I'm a complete idiot. Surprise, surprise! "Either way, he told us we'll be filled in on the details later."

"That's... good news, is it not?" Ravan looks between them before noticing (or pretending to notice) someone he knows in the crowd. Either he's trying to escape the awkwardness that emerges every time the faerie and pirate duo are in proximity or he's strategically trying to give them some time alone with each other. "Ah, it would seem I'm being summoned by a colleague. I shall return shortly."

"I know I said I wouldn't... but I need a fucking drink." Lettie breathes after she watches him go, grabbing a champagne glass that floats by before downing it in a long swig. She clutches the stem tightly in her fingers, resisting the urge to throw it across the room. (...Old habit. She broke a lot of mirrors at rock bottom as a teen.) "...I hate these things." The music swells and couples dance on the romantically lit floor. It's a mocking reminder of her silly thought earlier to teach Juno a dance. Juno would probably think it's stupid. She squeezes her eyes shut. "It's all so suffocating." There's so much she can't explain... but Juno knows her better than anyone in this room. She knows there's more to her than sparkles and bullshit. Right...? Clamping down on the urge to complain some more, Lettie bolsters the courage to take Juno by the hand and lead her to one of the private balconies.

There's a chill in the air. Lettie finds it refreshing, though, as it helps her stay present in a way the stuffy hotel ballroom hadn't. The music and the gossip fades away behind them and offers a moment of respite from the chaos. The faerie takes a deep breath... and then proceeds to chuck the champagne glass over the balcony. It smashes against a statue. It's not enough to make her feel better, but it's something.

Realizing afterwards that she's still holding Juno's hand, Lettie gulps uncertainly and quickly drops it. "Sorry... I didn't even ask if you wanted to come out here." She leans over the railing and stares out at the courtyard. "I just assumed. Guess that's a running trend today. I didn't ask you if you wanted go to the arcade, either... I assumed it'd make you happy and got it all wrong." She bites her lip, her eyes start to burn. She can't hold it all back when it's this much. "You can tell me if you're sick of me and my shit, you know. Like you used to. I can handle it." Might not sound that convincing with tears in her eyes, but it's true. Maybe Juno's just scared of hurting her feelings, after seeing her hangups. Seeing everything tonight. "...I can be an annoying little faerie. I know this about myself. So I won't be offended if you tell me to fuck off for a while."

 

[starboob]

It breaks something in Juno to see Olette so far gone. She knows her too well to ignore or deny that the faerie is off in a different world. Has been since the day started, when she recalls the way she dropped mid-flight upon seeing the diamond studded tree outside her window this morning. (Now that Juno’s thinking about it, she realizes that that must’ve been the moment she suspected they were on Avangeline. Why hadn’t she said anything then?) The pirate sighs thinking back to earlier and how they were fine back then before they knew where they were. Before Juno realized just how out of place she’d look in the faerie’s life and that any box she’d try to stuff herself into to conform, to be just right for Olette, would require her to cut off some limbs in the process. She can't do that to herself. No matter how desperate she is to belong, she'll never be that desperate.

The faerie has secrets. Mountains of them now that Juno’s had the time to reflect. She thinks over all the questions Olette’s ever avoided, how they’re all tied back to home, her life, and how Juno only knows as much as she does because of those nightmares. Technically, the same is true about herself. But Juno would have and has opened up on her own accord, too. Olette’s hiding something and Juno hasn’t decided how curious she is to figure it out.

Her eyes narrow, following the faerie as she makes her way towards the old gasbag. However, she isn’t able to watch the interaction as she feels something bump against her boot and, a second later, Ravan is lifting up one of the miniature skeletons who is showing off their find. Juno collects the diamonds from the hairpiece and, once finished, sets the robbed piece on one of the floating trays going around. The diamonds won’t last, but that’s fine. What does?

“Yeah, ‘smine.” She holds up her finger for the skeleton to high-five and then they hop off of Ravan’s hand and continue their quest for treasure. “I don’t fuckin’ deal with spirits so these’ns can’t fuckin’ talk. Well, they can use hand signs but that’s it.” It’s for the best anyway. The three she did attach spirits to are pains in her ass. (But none of her pirate life is going to survive once she’s back. She realized that for as much safety being a pirate has provided her, having her ship is just one huge fucking target. She’ll have to start over. On the ground. It’s… fine. Lady and her crew will only make her think about Olette so it’s better if she gets rid of them anyway.) “They’re boneheads.”

She shrugs and leaves it at that. Ravan amuses himself by trying to spot the other miniature skeletons wreaking havoc on the party. (There’s already one hanging from a chandelier.) Her eyes wander back over to Olette as she talks to that decrepit piece of trash. She notices her fists at her sides and the piece of trash waving her off a few seconds later, followed by Olette deflating. Even from this distance her disappointment is obvious. However when Olette rejoins them, it’s not for the reasons Juno might have previously assumed. She would have thought her disappointment would have been from a refusal to give up information, but rather than find that out Juno is informed the corp already knows of the entity. Probably the Matrix too, but Olette doesn’t mention that specifically.

Her brow raises, eyes narrowed. Her eyes flit from Olette, to Ravan, to the trash bag. They take in the chandeliers, the abundance of food, drink… Her mind wanders back to that organization that had captured them; to the cube informing them organizations like that exist for the purpose of trying to take advantage of the corrupted worlds; that they're trying to take the magic cores to siphon for themselves. She considers how they last ran into the entity stealing from that organization and apparently… they have waltzed right to Avangeline where magic, tech, and nature all exist in utopia. More than that, they’ve been tied to Olette’s corporation.

Her veins run cold. A chill trickles down her spine as her mind leaps to conclusions. ‘She’s been acting fuckin’ weird…’

Then Olette’s grabbing her hand and leading her out to a balcony and while Juno’s no longer sure of who is holding her hand, part of her still doesn’t want to believe what her mind’s just concluded. Because that part of her remembers how Olette reassured her that her work isn’t like that, but the other part of Juno that is suspicious doesn’t know what to believe. ‘Has she been duping you this entire fuckin’ time?’

Now the pirate has to wonder what she’s hiding.
This is still her mission. Worlds are still at stake.

But Olette’s mind is on them and that’s an entire shitstorm that Juno doesn’t even know how to address. What she does know? She can’t stand seeing Olette cry. Her mind might be made (and rapidly changing its opinion), but her heart is slow and aching seeing those tearful shining eyes.

Juno still doesn’t know how to respond, not with her guard halfway up and continuing to rise. But she supposes she can spare her a partial reason for her absence. At least where it started. (Because with this new information about Olette’s work, the pirate doesn’t know if she should trust her anymore.) She sets her empty champagne glass down on the balcony’s stone rail, nestling it between some of the vines that wrap around it so it doesn’t fall. (Though, given that Olette chucked hers, she supposes breaking glass doesn’t matter here.) “You’re a world away from me, Olette.” And maybe has been this entire time. “And I’m a world away from you. Worlds away.”

She turns around and presses her back against the railing, watching the ballroom dancers inside. (Of all the things her world might have in common with Avangeline, she’s surprised it’s dancing. Save for how flight can be incorporated, it’s relatively the same.) “Bein’ here just reminds me of that. Seein’ you here, too. Imagin’ what you’re gonna be doin’ after ‘m gone.”

“Mission feels over already.” The pirate shrugs and chances a glance at the faerie, unsure of how she feels and tired of not knowing. The only thing she knows is what she’s going to do tomorrow morning. ‘Maybe I should tell her?’ It’s clear she still thinks she cares about Juno, because she genuinely can’t fathom why the faerie would like her after seeing her world and knowing better is out there for her. At least six better options have breezed by the balcony entrance since they came out here. “We’re just blips in each other’s lives, ultimately.”

“And I’m not sick of you.” Juno doesn’t know how she feels about her, actually, and she knows she doesn’t want to see her sad. “But all that’s gotta’ve crossed your mind, Olette.” Perhaps bolstered by the alcohol or perhaps it’s the knowledge that anything that happens between them doesn’t matter, she decides to confess what she had been too wary to earlier. “I hate Avangeline and I’ve hated having to spend time here, knowing all that shit.”

“The arcade…” She looks away. “You people have it so fucking easy here. Made me bitter.” She pauses, mulls over what she’s just said and revises. This time, she turns to face her, leaning her elbow on top of the rail. “Not you. Seems you’ve got a different lot.” She glances over to the ballroom. Most couples are too occupied with themselves to be taking notice of the balcony, but a few groups still at tables are pointing and laughing. “You’d think they’d have something fuckin’ better to talk about. Sucks they can’t see you through my eyes.” Swallowing hard when she realizes what she’s just said, knowing her confused feelings, she adds, “Or Ravan’s.”

Her heart is a stupid thing, she decides, but she’s only going to allow it to be stupid for one last night. She supposes that might be a satisfying compromise. It’s the only way she can think to salvage what remains of the evening. She glances up at the stars, then looks back down to the star and offers her her hand. “I’m… sorry. I don’t like seeing you so fuckin’ upset. And I’ve been such an ass about today.” She shouldn’t doubt the faerie. She’s been true this entire time, right? Whatever she’s hiding, Juno should trust it’s with good reason. Right?

“You know… They taught us how to dance at the academy.” Of course, she wouldn’t fault Olette for declining knowing the state she’s been in all day and how she hasn’t been here (at all) for the faerie. If she’s angry, Juno won’t be offended. (Maybe Juno is hopeful she is. It’ll make tomorrow easier.)

 

[ellarose]

There are some problems a smile can't fix. Lettie's been able to pretend for a while... but the time for pretending is over. It's been over for a while, actually. And she'd have broken her heart open a hundred times over if she could, spill out her insides if it meant Juno could see her and truly see her. Show her the way the obnoxious brightness of Avangeline casts tremendously dark shadows over her and her life. That it all has a cost and just how deep it goes beyond those shitty reporters and the people pointing and laughing at her from a distance. You people have it so fucking easy here. The bile in her throat burns as she struggles to choke it down, tempted to cry harder. It's the only sound she could make at this point that will explain any of what she's feeling. Even as Juno excludes her from 'you people', it's clear that she doesn't see the full extent of it. Of who she is and what she's been through. She can't expect her to see it, either, when she can't tell her. She doesn't blame Juno for what she can't possibly know. Can't blame herself either, though. Because the true blame lies with Asmodeus and the bastards who cursed her all those years ago. All anyone is ever going to see of her is the surface level... they've made sure of that. They were never going to let her be anything more.

It's not fair. Lettie knows she's more than a faerie who cares about what she looks like. Who cares about what the people at those table think of her. And as much as she wants to sink to the floor and cry about it just how unfair it all is, she can't. 'What's wrong?' There've been well-meaning people in her life, even before Juno. Like Ravan and Ariel. But she can't say. She can't say a damned thing. Juno's come the closest to anyone in years because of the nightmares, because of her time away from Avangeline where she got to be someone like herself again instead of the hollowed shell who desperately toiled and tallied every second just to keep herself out of the estate's clutches. But they sealed her fate the day they wrapped their bullshit power and influence around her neck like a noose. She just made it all worse by struggling on her way down.

"It's pretty fucking terrible." Lettie says, sniffing and wiping her eyes. Her make-up smears and she couldn't care less. No time for tears. Only when the night is done. She'll have plenty of time to cry if she's locked up in that fucking cell again. "Avangeline." She swallows the funny feeling in her throat. It's her heartache and a threat all wrapped into one. "You've only seen a small glimpse into a very big world, Juno." Or rather a world that's trying to be bigger than it needs to be. A world that hungrily absorbed everything Lina was. She's there in the flowers growing through cracks in the concrete. Death is all around them and no one sees it. "I know how it looks... and I can't deny the ways that I've been fortunate." But there's a dark side. So dark and sinister that she can't even warn her about it. It's just going to sneak up on them and snatch everything away, seemingly without reason or explanation.

"...It's okay. We probably just need some sleep. A chance to clear our minds." When Juno offers her hand, Lettie takes it. They might as well. This might be their first and last chance to dance like this. If there's one thing she wants to do before it's over, it's to hold onto one last moment. (Lina had asked her what she wanted to do and she said she wanted a nap. It was the last conversation they had.) "We've been through a lot." She squeezes her hand. That's one squeeze.

"...I don't think of Avangeline when I think of my future." Lettie says what she can say as they step onto the dance floor. Mostly, all she sees is the edge of a deep, dark abyss with an open mouth with sharp rows of teeth smiling at the bottom. When she thinks of the future these days, she doesn't even see herself in it. She imagines the peaceful life that Juno might get to live in the aftermath of their mission. But sometimes, in those rare times that she's feeling optimistic, she'll put herself in that future beside her. The future just doesn't exist without Juno. So, no. It never crossed her mind. Not even once. But now that she knows, she can see how it all looks. When I think of my future, I think of you. Lettie's brave enough to say it and she wants Juno to know... but she's not brave enough to leave Juno with the impact of a bullet wound instead of a blip. If she's just a blip to her right now, she needs to stay that way to do the least possible damage. I'm a world away from you. World's away.

"You dance good." Lettie just stares at her meaningfully as they sway, wishing they could give all of her thoughts away like all those love songs say. But when the message is 'I'm cursed, my time is running out and I need help' there's a few hundred layers of nuance that will never be communicated. She squeezes again. Two. The danger's not obvious. She probably won't catch on. But she's trying to think of all their unspoken ways. She clears her throat embarrassedly. "You're a good dancer."

And, yes, it has occurred to Lettie to squeeze three times in quick succession. Over and over again. But the intention and message would have seared her wrist gold and broken it. (A broken wrist may be worth saving her life for, if it comes down to it. Except... she's not sure Juno can save her from this. She's scared of what might happen if she tries to follow her into the darkness.) It's warm when Juno turns her around and holds her closer. She wishes she could stay here. She wishes her future was here.

"I don't think our mission is even close to being over." Lettie can't define her future. She can't even see it anymore as it slips beyond her grasp. Beyond her control. The mission is the only thing she ultimately got to choose for herself... and she only got to make that choice because she left Avangeline. "I want to see it through. For Desdemonia. And for Cerise." For the world Juno had to grow up in. For all the faeries that have been used and forgotten. For us.

Cerise. Lettie blinks once. Then twice. The mission. Cerise. There's something that's... "Shit. The book. I completely forgot about it." Fuck! "We picked up... that book. Cressida's journal." That journal she risked their necks for back at the Duchess's mansion, the one that might have an account of Cerise's experience. Namely, what it means to be marked. So much has happened since then that she completely forgot. And now there's no way they have the time to go all the way back for it. She gives the third and final squeeze. "Juno. If things go shit bananas tonight, you need to find that book." The book might offer the answers to at least a couple of unanswered questions she might have. Some insight into faeries and into the kind of world Avangeline is to them. What it does to them. Then maybe she'll understand, at least a little bit. "The one we found in the safe. You picked it up, right?" She bites her lip. "...Promise me you'll find it?"

 

[starboob]

Juno considers Olette’s words carefully. What she says and what she doesn’t. It’s in what she doesn’t say that interests the pirate the most, because in what’s left unsaid lies as many possibilities as there are stars in the sky. It forces her to wonder what lies beneath this pretty veil and, again, she recalls that which might be looming and waiting for the faerie. (“We’ll be…” Yeah, yeah. She knows.) It reminds her to be wary of this corporation and, by extension, Olette herself. Not that any of this matters. Juno and Olette’s futures were never meant to converge and she won’t need to think of any of this come sunrise.

Olette’s made clear that while she doesn’t see a future on Avangeline, she also doesn’t see one with Juno. While this is not something that she says outright, Juno will not suspend herself in hope that maybe she does see a future with her. If that were such a possibility, wouldn’t Olette say it? Juno has just confessed that she more or less has been upset because everything about this visit reminds them of their inevitable separation and in the faerie’s response, there’s confirmation that she doesn't see Juno in her future. (Why would she? She could do better than Desdemonia ground trash. Her own mother didn't even want her.) No, she won’t be the fool who begs. Never. (But it stings, because she thought they might have had something. But she's only ever been entertainment, the only person with some semblance of substance on a ship full of boneheads and even then, Juno knows she's terrible company. The faerie just had her thinking differently for a while.)

The music wraps around them, but rather than warmth, Juno finds herself dreading each step, pull, and twirl. With each step, she wishes for more time because she knows each step taken is a step closer to morning. (She has to do this. She has to. No one is permanent in her life and that was always going to be especially true for the woman from another world.) Still, this isn’t such a bad goodbye. The faerie is dazzling under these soft blue lights that mirror the moon, stars, and night sky outside. She pulls the faerie in close, holds her for a second longer than she’s supposed to, then releases her. ‘I’m sorry.’

“You can thank fuckin' Carpet for that.” Her lips twitch, barely smiling as she recalls their Carpet related antics. It had been fun hiding that corpse around her ship. (At least until it started to rot and decay.) She’ll think of that fondly and if she ever sees the commodore again, she’ll let that smug bitch know her son’s corpse was blasted into the jaws of some horror and was more useful in death than he ever was in life. “He took the academy formals seriously and wouldn’t have any under his command makin' him look stupid. Had us run drills for hours then ballroom late into evening.” Juno hadn’t minded so much then, as dancing had been preferable to combat training. Had it not been so tiring she would have looked forward to it.

Juno squeezes Olette’s hand when she squeezes hers a second time, offering her the reassurance that she’s still here and feeling guilty just the same. Especially as the faerie goes on to talk about their mission— the mission— and how she doesn’t believe it’s even close to being done. Where Juno can see that, she also doesn’t particularly think it matters how much time they may or may not have. Leaving is going to hurt just the same whether she milks their time together or not. Doing so sooner is her best chance of coming out relatively whole. (She’ll always be grateful for having met Olette, too. Don’t get it twisted, the faerie has left her mark and Juno will never be the same person she was before. Olette’s reminded her of who she used to be and what’s been important to her. Desdemonia might not offer her the kind of life that allows her to live out what she’s learned and rediscovered, but she can commit to doing what she can to help others even while she tries to maintain a low profile. Desdemonia… it’s a shithole, but it’s her shithole and maybe it could use more reformed people like her. Won’t cure the corruption, but it’s something she supposes. And, hey, maybe with what she’s learned of the corruption, she can help the ground fight more efficiently.)

“I hope it works out.” It’s all she can say without outright lying. Without outright admitting that her heart isn’t in the mission anymore. As much as she believes in it, she cannot fight alongside Olette knowing her future isn’t with her. Selfish as it is, she just can’t do it after tonight. It's too much and she's in too deep already. (She can only hope that it's not also too late.) “Maybe then everyone could have a piece of paradise.” Her eyes skip over the room as a means of communicating that she means Avangeline when referring to paradise. Even if there might be shit beneath the veil, is there any denying that it’s better than Desdemonia and the other worlds they’ve seen? Is there any denying that it’s unfair this world gets to thrive when so many others suffer? This world might have something sinister underneath its glamours, but Avangeline itself isn’t trying to damn its people unlike Desdemonia. Whatever is sinister here most likely lies in the people themselves. And people can be more easily dealt with when they all have punchable faces. At least, this is what Juno believes.

When Olette blurts out something about the book— Cressida’s diary— and squeezes her hand again, the pirate looks at her with confusion, not understanding at all what the faerie is trying to get at. She doesn't understand why the diary is so important, only that Olette is adamant that she find it in the event shit bananas happen. Even if everything is calm now, Juno knows shit bananas can happen at any time. That's been their entire existence since the cube, but there's something else behind Olette's urgency that Juno cannot place (because Olette won't let her). ‘She’s… worried.’ This isn’t news nor is it a revelation. Juno has known this for a while, but the alarm in her voice and… ‘Three. Three squeezes.’ “Olette, what—”

“Olette.” The fossil from before approaches the pair, standing taller than them both (much to Juno’s annoyance). “Your presence is required.” He glances down at Juno, bored, perhaps even disgusted. “You may bring the human. If you must.”

 

[ellarose]

Hope ignites in Lettie’s heart as Juno starts to grasp her unspoken signals. Maybe now she’ll realize… After all this time they’ve found ways to communicate without words. With meaningful glances and squeezes. The extent of all of this is complicated and she cannot expect the impossible from Juno, nor for her to read her mind. At this point, though, she needs to warn her that things are about to get more than just shit bananas bad. And it seems that message is finally being conveyed while the pirate stares at her as if she truly sees her for the first time that evening. This is the moment the faerie considers risking breaking her wrist to give those three rapid squeezes, to confirm that yes— yes, there are things to worry about right now. And she wants Juno to know that fact even as she keeps herself deceptively composed on the surface level. She needs Juno to know that she wants her to know. That she’s not trying to hide from her on purpose… because she does trust her.

Crane appears, snuffing the potential of the moment before it can blaze into something that illuminates the darkness that’s been surrounding them all evening. While there is a part of her that wishes to get this over with, to simply know what fate has planned for her so she can at least stop this fretting and wondering… she also wishes they could’ve finished their dance. That she had less to worry about so she could appreciate the way the glittering lights accentuated Juno’s eyes and that mischievous almost-smile she wore as she discussed Carpet’s corpse.

“The human has a name.” Lettie snaps before she can help herself, defensive on her pirate’s behalf. It’s captain fucking Juno, you old asshole. She keeps this half to herself. Stars, no. She can’t ruin this. Not now. Not when they’ve come this far. She smooths her tone of voice into something dulcet and acceptable. “It’s Juno.” The faerie’s worried fingers squeeze tightly around the pirate’s stupidly buff arm.

“It hardly matters. Come along.” Crane sniffs in the manner that says any breath he uses to address them is a moment wasted, motioning them along with the sweep of his robes as he glides towards the ballroom’s tree-shaped double doors. Lettie’s tempted to show Juno her comical impression of gramps, thinking it might diffuse some of this tension… but she can’t risk anything with Crane right now. If she can just pay Asmodeus, no one has to come after her tonight at least. It doesn’t have to end tonight. Then they’ll have time then to fight the entity, take the Matrix, and leave Avangeline behind forever. She just has to endure this one fucking meeting first.

They’re guided into a windowed glass elevator that gives them views of the hotel‘s various luxuries and accommodations for elites and the filthy rich as they rise— sparkling pools, bars, lounges, casinos and shops. There’s an ominous infinity floor beneath their feet, filled with little electric blue lights that descend into a dark unknown. As they rise higher and higher, Lettie’s dread rises with them. Juno already hates all of this enough as it is… and it worms in Lettie’s gut that every flower and diamond encrusted surface reflects negatively on her by association from the pirate’s perspective. I hate Avangeline. Ding! The doors slide open and they step out into a striking black and white lounge. Her heart clenches in her chest… she clenches Juno tighter. This lounge.

The luxurious plush carpet is midnight black, just like the walls which sparkle and gleam with stars. Diffusers shaped like white lilies breathe airy puffs of steam in the air, spreading fragrant euphoria that targets little faeries like her specifically, getting her drunk on the atmosphere. Speaking of sinister. On the sleek black sofas, there are some demons playing cards with decadent faeries leaning on their arms like accessories. (There are some sofas where faeries lounge like they simply exist to add a little something to the atmosphere… posing and waiting to entertain any guest that might come their way.) The faeries smile brightly, seductively trailing their fingers over their arms, laughing at their jokes and bolster them with compliments. Through their teeth. Just as they’ve been taught to. A knot ties itself in Lettie’s chest as an unaccompanied demon at the bar looks her up and down, licking their lips like she’s something to devour. She doesn’t want to know what they’re imagining. She averts her gaze and presses herself closer to Juno’s side. As long as she’s accompanied, they won’t bother her.

It doesn’t seem like such a bad future on the surface level. Lounging in pretty places like this, wearing lovely clothes, acting a part. But it’s still a sort of death, isn’t it? There’s no life outside of it. Just surrendering to the whims of others, even if they’re careless or cruel or… violent.

Lettie can’t go back to the estate.

Crane leads them through a roped off door in the back of this lounge. Two figures await them. A figure in a hood adorned with a glyph that indicates service to the elders… and none other than Angelus.

“What… is this?” The fumes flowing through Lettie soften the sharp edges of her shock as she stares bewilderedly at the smirking white-haired and pink-eyed figure. She thought they lost Angelus in Desdemonia. She rubs her eyes, still trying to adjust to the sight of him. “What are you doing here?”

“Angelus delivered the other relic to us, Olette.” Crane sighs as if this is obvious. He snaps and the Matrix appears in the palm of his hand. It looks like its been fixed since they last saw it. (Lettie’s not sure if that’s thanks to their efforts or if something has been done to it since then.) “He came to us right away, knowing the importance of our mission. The same way you should have done…”

“His mission? What?” Lettie isn’t following. Her heartbeat is clogging her ears. “He tried to kill us, Crane.”

“There are countless other relics as well. Ones that she’s found and neglected to mention.” Angelus steeples his fingers. The robed figure in the room just listens to their exchange, contributing nothing. They’re going to report everything they say to the elders after this. Crane leans in closer, his old eyes goin wide. “I began to suspect you were traitorous, faerie.”

Traitorous. The word threatens everything Lettie needs to be fighting for right now. She can’t let go of her last remaining lifeline.

“I… just haven’t had the chance. I’m not…” Lettie begins, losing her grip on the situation, on her lifeline, and on Juno’s arm as well. She goes numb with dread. Angelus. Recalling the last time they saw the demon, she remembers the way that the shadow entity had appeared soon afterwards. Either they’re working together, or perhaps…

Are they one and the same? Have they been working for Avangeline all this time? Lettie doesn’t like this at all.

“She’s a flighty thing, Angelus, but eager. And capable.” Crane insults and praises her in the same breath. “Olette, you’ve done your Avangelina proud by finding the hidden relics.” The representative of the elders nods his head in agreement with this sentiment. “Once you reveal their location to us, you will be paid appropriately for your contributions.”

“…How much?” Lettie asks automatically, her mind latching onto the promise of payment. Latching onto the last flicker of hope that promises freedom. Crane’s complimenting her, easing her in, and perhaps poised to offer her anything she might desire on a silver platter in return for information.

“Enough that you shall never want for anything again.” Enough to settle Lettie’s debts in other words. Enough to cover everything she owes Asmodeus and free herself of the estate’s— the Reaper’s— clutches forever. “The elders will supply you with anything your heart desires.”

What Avangeline intends to do with the relics… this does cross Lettie’s mind alongside a pinch of guilt. She doesn’t have a good feeling about it, knowing what she knows so far. What she understands about Avangeline’s most sinister shadows and hidden past. But it’s an afterthought compared to the concept of her freedom, which is being dangled at her like a juicy steak in front of a starved dog. She could be the first faerie to escape the ring. The estate. She’ll never have to answer to Asmodeus again or work tirelessly to meet his twisted deadlines. While she still intends to heal the worlds, to proceed with their mission… it’s something she can worry about after she’s broken free of the chains holding her back. Maybe she’ll even have enough that she can request that the elders break her curses. She’ll play along until she has everything she needs and then turn the tables on them. It may be a risky move… but it’s the only one she’s got. It’ll be worth it. It has to be. And then she can tell Juno everything. And maybe move onto more ambitious pursuits. Help Desdemonia, help the other faeries… ultimately, that’s what she wants to do. But she needs to put herself in the position where she has the agency to do so.

Lettie’s been offered the opportunity to vanquish the demons, the perpetual stress and fear that have had their claws in her since childhood. This is… life changing. Life saving.

“Juno…” Lettie looks up at her, pleading with her silently. I’m not like them. You know I’m not like them. The faerie can only hope she understands that she fully intends to bamboozle these geezers. That she’s not actually thinking of working with them. The paths that have branched out from this choice are explicitly labeled ‘life’ and ‘death’. She just can’t refuse an offer like this. “I think we should take this deal.”

 

[starboob]

Olette wants to tell her something. And she's trying to— through squeezes and looks alone. While Juno has put this much together, she cannot figure out why the faerie insists on being cryptic about what’s going on or what she’s fretting over. (Maybe it crosses her mind that she can’t tell her, but the thought doesn’t linger long enough for Juno to fully consider the notion or implications.) There’s no time for her to suss out what’s going on either— she’s not even able to finish her question before that pompous asshole saunters up to them and demands Olette’s presence and half-heartedly invites Juno to tag along as well. Though Juno doesn’t raise a fuss, a bad feeling sows itself in her stomach as she trails after the geezer with her companion clinging to her arm.

Traveling up (skyward) only stirs more distrust and doubt within the pirate as she glimpses and takes in more of Avangeline’s abundance. ‘Whose grave is this world built on?’ She glowers down at the sparks beneath their feet, the dots reminding her of lost souls, ones that never make it to the goddess (because she's dead).

She side eyes the faerie, then her boss, and considers that the purpose of this meeting is supposed to be about the entity. The relic. Her jaw tightens as Olette clutches onto her tighter, still not able to read anything on the faerie’s expression aside from her abundance of panic. ‘What are you hiding?’ The more questions that percolate through her mind, the more she finds herself wary of this entire situation. Her hand falls to her pocket, slipping inside to smooth her thumb over a molar. 'You only have yourself, Juno. Don't rely on others.'

When the elevator stops and pours them out into a lounge, it immediately reminds Juno of some of Olette’s nightmares. The star theme reminds her of those starry tiled rooms; and the faeries lounging on couches and demon laps alike also brings her back to Olette’s working days (pre-cube). Though still unsure of this entire situation (her suspicions rise with each passing second), when she catches that demon eyeing Olette like she’s a piece of meat, she glares and puts an arm around her shoulder. The demon backs off, but she has a feeling it’s only for the time being given the smirk on their rouged lips. (Can she really leave her behind in a place like this? ...Does it even matter? Olette doesn’t see her future on Avangeline anyway. She’s going to be fine.)

Everything changes when the door to this back room is revealed to them. The smug asshole from the duchess’s estate nearly has Juno tripping backwards, fully believing that she’s been led to a trap designed by the duchess to bring her back to Desdemonia. Yet, somehow, reality is much worse. All Juno can hear for a full minute are sirens in her head telling her to run. Her jaw clamps down harder. That this douchebag is affiliated with the corporation— Olette’s corporation— does not sit well with Juno. (Olette once tried to assure her that her corp wasn’t like Syndicate (or whatever) and Juno foolishly accepted that, because she thought the faerie trustworthy back then. Now? Now she’s not so sure.) The faerie’s surprise isn’t convincing and Juno’s beginning to suspect she’s been played for a fool. 'She must've fucking known her time pretending is up. Bet that's why she's been weird.'

She still takes a seat, leaning back in the chair with her arms crossed as she observes the exchange; curious, at least, to know what this all is about and what these assholes might want. Turns out, it's as she suspected. ‘Fucking faerie.’ Her expression gives nothing away of her betrayal, but she begins molding the molar between her thumb and forefinger— not enchanting it in any particular way. Just preparing. Especially since it’s now confirmed that the corp has the Matrix. Especially as Olette essentially confesses to working with them on this mission by admitting she never had the chance to return. ‘Probably having too much fun distracting herself with fucking pirates. She is a traitorous faerie.’

Still, the pirate doesn’t say anything yet. Part of her doesn’t want to believe this and wants to believe there’s something else beneath the surface. She knows her to be better than this.

Or she thought she did.

“How much?"

The question repeats itself in Juno’s head over and over again until it puts dents in her skull. ‘Say you’re fucking joking.’ But Juno doesn’t hold out hope for that and she’s glad she doesn’t when Olette turns to her and actually dares to tell Juno they should take the deal. Juno. Juno who grew up on Desdemonia. Juno who knows firsthand how devastating these magic cores can be even in well meaning hands.

She doesn’t even hesitate when she scoffs and rolls her eyes, like she’s been waiting for this moment. (And, in a way, she has been but the vindication is not sweet. It’s bitter and churns bile in her stomach.) “Are you fuckin’ serious?” Juno seethes, barely holding back the anger from her tone. In fact, the air around her seems hotter as she simmers in her seat. She pulls her gaze from Olette, sickened by the sight of her. Sickened that she even let her in. Sickened that she ever trusted her. She lets out an airy, sarcastic sort of laugh. “I really was just fodder to you. Fuckin' faerie.”

“I should have known she was playing you.” Angelus chuckles to himself, clearly amused, but Juno doesn’t even entertain his remark with a glare. His pink eyes flicker over to Olette as he tips a metaphoric hat. “You certainly had me convinced of your mutual affections.”

“Faeries are crafty little minxes, aren’t they?” While this is a clear insult, Crane says it like praise— if only because the trait is a benefit to his pursuits.

Juno ignores them both— though their words do confirm everything she’s been suspecting since she began to guess that Avangeline can only be so immaculate for one reason and one reason alone. (The slaughter of others.) “I knew I was right to leave your ass behind.” The pirate pushes herself from the table, rising to stand so that she’s looming over the faerie like all the other assholes on this world. “Enjoy your fancy shithole and the assholes who keep you fuckin’ glitzed up. Hope it's worth it.”

“I wouldn’t be so hasty, captain.” Angelus rests his elbows on the table, fingers clasped together to prop his chin. His pink eyes flash like a warning. “Have you not thought of your dear Duchess Cassidy? I hear she is having a special room prepared just for you." He hums, lips twitching into a smirk. "I may be able to pull some strings in exchange for your cooperation.”

“Yes, bothersome as you humans tend to be, you are being given an opportunity.” Despite his interjection, Crane doesn't seem particularly invested in winning Juno over to Avangeline's side. “After all, it’s not everyday that a human can make a difference. Perhaps you need the night to think on it, hm?”

The words are needles to Juno’s skin, but she refuses to take the bait. They don’t know where the other cubes are and if she can beat Olette back to her ship, then she can put a fucking stop to these Avangeline parasites. If Olette tries to get in her way? She won’t pull her punches and she’ll do what she has to keep those cubes safe. She'll aim for her neck if that's what it's going to take to protect the other worlds.

“Fuck all of you,” Juno spits. “I don’t need your damned blood money or bribes.” Juno finally looks down at Olette, her gaze searing like she’s trying to burn two holes into the faerie. Like she's trying to hurt her. (She is.) She makes sure to hold her gaze as she reaches for the stupid fucking locket and rips it from her neck, letting it fall to the ground in front of her. “Hope your glamours can hide the blood on your fuckin’ hands, Olette. Lettie. Whoever the fuck you are.”

Never one to waste her breath, the pirate captain makes her exit and once she’s out of the room, Angelus lets his amusement burst from his thin lips. “Ah, so dramatic humans are. And for what? They live for maybe forty good years and then fall apart.”

“Silence, Angelus.” Crane rubs his temples, clearly about to have an aneurysm if another person starts babbling needlessly. “Never mind the human, Olette. We can find you a new one. Angelus reports that there’s an entire world of necromancers to harvest. I’m sure one of them will suit our purposes just fine.” ("Yes, I might recommend Cassidy, even.") He sighs, pressing his eyes shut like he’s afraid to ask this next question and know an unfavorable possibility. “Please tell me you are privy to the location of the relics and have them in your possession?”

 

[ellarose]

Juno's laugh sinks in like a scalding, jagged blade through Lettie's ribs. "Fuckin' faerie." And suddenly it's like they're standing at the beginning again. Several steps back in time, all the way back to the night they first met. Where she's the vain, less-than-dirt little faerie that Juno can't stand the sight of. This isn't right. This isn't where they're at. They've come too far for this to be what breaks them. Her throat goes bone-dry and she vehemently shakes her head to fight against the accusation. Of course she doesn't see Juno as fodder! Isn't it obvious? They've fought together. For each other. (And yet... through the pirate's anger, she says it like she's been expecting this all along.) Her plan slips through her fingers so quickly she can hardly even blink, hardly even process it, as it all plummets straight down to hell. It shatters into pieces right before her eyes.

Lettie thought their foundation was stronger than that. Built on actions and oaths and trust. Even if Juno disagrees with the idea, even if she hates it, she thought she'd have been afforded the chance to give some semblance of her reasoning after everything they've been through together. Instead, the pirate automatically assumes the worst of her. Angelus and Crane's remarks are faint, as if she's hearing them underwater. Her ears prickle bright red with shame and a fierce hammering beats behind her eyes. "Faeries are crafty little minxes."

Faeries this, faeries that.They're painting a picture of Lettie and using all the wrong colors. The worst part is that all the accurate shades are sealed away behind a curse that she's never going to break. (There's no time.) Juno doesn't fight their claims. Doesn't hesitate or question it. She can see it bolstering her belief that what they say about her is true. The knife stabs in again. Again, again, again, with every second that she watches her hard-earned trust slipping away. And along with that? Her chances of surviving the night.

If Juno doesn't see Lettie for who she is then no one does. No one possibly can. 'It's over, isn't it?'

"No." Lettie blinks rapidly, shaking her head over and over. She's uncertain if her throat is burning because of all the words she can't say to explain herself or if it's the bile rising in her throat. The urge to cry and mourn the absolute disaster she calls her life. "No, I wasn't--"

"I knew I was right to leave your ass behind." ...What? Lettie flinches as if smacked. Leave? A reel of the last couple of hours speeds through her mind. The awkwardness, the stretches of silence. Juno being 'worlds away' from her. The confession she received that she hates Avangeline and the way it supplied a bit of context... but perhaps not enough to explain why she was acting like that all this time. Enough to leave. And she it means she'd decided on that even earlier, without even meaning to tell her... until now. Lettie holds herself in a flimsy attempt to keep herself from falling to pieces. 'But I won’t leave you to fight alone if I can help it.' Stars. Had she really said those words to her that morning? How had they gone from forehead kisses to worlds apart? If she'd known sooner that she'd been thinking about leaving her behind all this time, the risk likely would have outweighed her words of consideration just then. What's done now is done. She needs to live with these mistakes. (Or die because of them.) "Hope your glamours can hide the blood on your fuckin’ hands, Olette. Lettie. Whoever the fuck you are."

Lettie shrinks in the shadow Juno casts when she rises to her full height above her, wielding her name like another weapon. (She had to earn that, too.) Without her glamours, without her usual smile, her defenses have fallen all around her and Juno is in the perfect position to finish her off. The faerie's hopeless white eyes bore into her searing gaze. Wanting her to reconsider this all while knowing she won't when her mind is set. When Juno looks at her like that, she realizes she can hate herself just as easily for making her feel that way in the first place. (...If only she knew that the only blood she envisions on her hands tonight is her own.) "Juno..." She chokes out, numb with grief. Every breath she takes is dagger sharp and she's incapable of scraping together anything worthy of the pirate's attention as she delivers the final blow by tearing her locket from her neck and throwing it to the ground. (Might as well be her own heart. She flinches again as it clatters.) Juno walks away, leaving her behind.

With the intent of leaving her forever, no doubt. Juno would probably be happy if she never sees Lettie's face again. She doesn't look back, having lost any semblance of fondness or trust in her all within the span of a few moments. All she knows of her now is a superficial lie. If she'd been able to tell her everything, she would have understood. She gets that this looks bad, that she's been weird and panicky since arriving on Avangeline... but this turn still feels abrupt and sharp and wrong. Beyond considering the offer, the admittedly awful implications that accompany that, what exactly did she do to convince her give up on her so fast? To decide she isn't even worthy of the chance to explain?

'Useless faerie. You're worth more in the ground than you are alive.'

Well, maybe that's true. Lettie stares at the door Juno left through as the seconds tick by. (Underneath the flickering countdown, her wrist grows warmer and warmer.) Angelus and Crane discuss replacements and the sound collides with the sound of Juno's footsteps walking away. There's her heartbeat and the chains rattling closer. The tick, tick, tick of the precious seconds she's wasting there. Now she needs to consider how she's going to use the rest of them. 'It's over, isn't it?' She steels over her fear and tames the part of her that's been writhing and struggling against the chains of fate all this time. Shushes it. Consoles it and tells it to be at peace. In some twisted way, she can relax now. Because this is it. 'It's really over.'

Lettie pull off such an elaborate heist without Juno. By that reasoning, she's dead either way. And she'd rather die allowing her true self to live on in Juno's memories than destroy everything she values whilst holding onto the fraying hope that she might survive through such an impossible scheme. If anyone's going to remember her for who she is-- if anyone's ever going to come close-- it's Juno. (...Juno who must be so hurt believing that this has all been a lie. Hurting believing these last couple of months have been an elaborate hoax.) Before she goes, she at least needs to reassure her that she'd been cared for all this time. That she hadn't wasted her time or energy. The faerie swallows hard and reaches for the locket on the floor. She smooths her thumb over the surface, frowns at the broken clasp. I need to fix this. She squeezes her eyes shut. Before she disappears forever, she needs to fix this one thing. Because what they have is worth far more than glamours or anything Avangeline could possibly offer.

Crane and Angelus are looking at her, expectant for an answer. Lettie hasn't been listening. They're not worth a second more of the little time she has left.

"You two really fucking suck at reading the room." Lettie says coldly, refusing to spare them even a glance now that her mind is made up. She doesn't bother taking in the shocked looks on their faces as she glides out of the room to chase after Juno. She cups her hand over her nose and mouth through the fragrant lounge. The demon from before tries to wave her over, but she's moving too quickly to pay them any mind. Her eyes are fixed determinedly on Juno's back. "Juno, wait!"

Juno's not waiting... stubborn freaking pirate! She's not going to when her mind is made up. The elevator doors close behind her at the end of the lounge and Lettie pounces, glitching through them. But the elevator itself has already gone by that point. In the darkness, she watches it swoosh down below her. Lettie glitches herself through the window on the other end, nosediving through the hotel's facilities and following the trajectory of the elevator through the glass. Then she glitches herself inside of it when she's safely aligned. Once inside, she positions her body so she's standing in front of the button display to keep Juno from opening the doors and storming away from her again.

"Juno, don't leave. At least let me explain." Lettie's breathes shakily, panicked and winded from her pursuit. Now that they're in proximity again, she's not even sure what to say... what they have is so fragile now, bound to break. No. It may already be broken. Just like the locket she's clenching behind her back. "I wasn't gonna do it unless you agreed. I couldn't say in front of them, but I was thinking of it like a heist, 'cause..." She presses her eyes shut, wincing against the squeezing sensation in her throat. What the fuck can she 'explain', anyway? Everything that will make her understand is sealed behind a golden noose. 'This is exactly why she doesn't trust you.' Devious fucking curse. She might be making this worse, trailing off. Dodging more topics like she's traversing a minefield of lies. "I'm not that selfish. You know me better than this." But not enough to stay. Even before the meeting, she'd come to that conclusion... these twisted tables won't be so easily turned.

'Whoever the fuck you are.' Does she really know her, though? It's not going to be enough. If everything they've been through up to this point hasn't been enough, Juno's likely going to dismiss this as a last-ditch attempt to save face. To manipulate her to her side... to steal the cubes and bathe her hands in blood. (It hurts, knowing Juno's seeing her in these shades of angry red. But she's been betrayed before, she recalls.) But if it's the last thing Lettie does, she's going to fix this. If Juno can remember her as a friend who had her back, as someone who made her smile for real reasons-- at least temporarily-- that will be enough. That's all she can afford to hope for at the end of this.

Everything they've been through can't have been for nothing. It can't be rendered meaningless... warped into something bitter and painful. Juno's the one who's going to have to live with their memories. The way she views it now, she may never let another person in because of her. After she listened to her and held her while she cried... the pirate's going to shut herself away from love forever if she thinks of it all like a cruel trick. Lettie's going to become a reason-- a cautionary tale-- that persuades her to sink deeper into isolation. And that makes her sadder than words can convey. She can't let that be their story.

"I can't let this end with you hating me." Lettie bites her lip. She knows her panicked, trembling form does very little to inspire confidence. Let alone trust. But she can hardly settle herself against this endless onslaught on her heart. These will likely be their last moments together, enclosed in this descending elevator. While she can't prove her loyalty with words, she could still do it with actions. "Juno, I'll prove I'm still with you if that's what it takes. Somehow. I'll... I'll..." She wracks her brain for something, anything she can offer to make this right. Her heart pounds as she snags against an idea. A dangerous idea. The sort of thing only a very desperate little faerie with a death wish would resort to. (...But she's nothing if not desperate. She's wearing a fucking expiration date on her arm.) "The corp building. I..." She gulps. Is she really considering this? ...Yeah. Yeah. For Juno, she would. She will. "I could blow it up. Dismantle and destroy everything inside."

Ding! The elevator stops at the lowest floor, doors swishing open and ending their short period of proximity. Lettie stares up at Juno imploringly, silently begging her to stay. To reconsider her stance before she leaves her life for good. Please. Trust me.

 

[starboob]

Juno presses down her grief, shuts it in a jar, and screws the lid on tight. Even then, she can feel her hands shaking at her sides, traveling up her arms and threatening to turn her entire form into a trembling mess. ‘No. You know better.’ She chastises herself as she sets her eyes on the elevator, mentally retracing her steps so that she can find her ship again and get the fuck off of this hellhole. (So she can put worlds of distance between herself and the biggest fucking mistake of her life.)

Her eyes burn with the tears she refuses to let even bud, forcing them to stay open and dry. The fucking faerie isn’t worth her tears when she was worthless to her. When she fucking used her to serve her fucked up world that eats worlds like Desdemonia. (Someday, it’s going to cannibalize on itself and Juno’s almost sad she won’t be here to witness it.) Juno never should have thought they had anything in common just because she saw a few of Olette’s worst moments. Everyone’s got a sob story somewhere in them. It’s Juno’s fault for not remembering that. It's her fault for not remembering that people always leave. People always disappoint. Always, always, always. How many times does she have to learn this lesson? Is it going to take someone actually fucking murdering her for her to realize that there’s no one out there in the worlds who’s got her except for her?

It had been nice to feel wanted, it always does, but Juno isn’t someone who is wanted. Never has been and never will be. Even before the pirate came to understand the faerie’s true colors, it had already been confirmed that everything between them has always been fleeting. The almosts were just flight fancies. Olette never thought of a forever with her, she only made Juno think she might. Led her on to lead her astray.

Heat flares in Juno’s chest, becoming wild, hot, and uncontrollable as she steps into the elevator. Her fists are balled up at her sides and it’s so damn tempting to break something that she almost, almost sends her fist through one of the elevator’s glass panels. It’s probably a good thing she doesn’t, because Olette glitches in a second later. Still, the pirate reaches for the molar she’s been working on. ‘She’s here to take you out.’

Or not?

The pirate keeps her features tight and impassive, closing herself off to anything that Olette could possibly have to say because there’s nothing that she could say (or do) that will ever convince Juno to change her mind. Her mind is set. She’s seen enough. Crocodile tears won’t do anything to sway her. (Fake, fake, fake!) The faerie can’t even provide a solid enough excuse for her decision back there and relying on the fact that Juno should trust her isn’t going to work when she’s already proven to be untrustworthy. The excuse proves it too with how flimsy and see-through it is. “You really must think I’m a fuckin' idiot if you think I’m going to put blind faith in the faithless. Whoever you are here, on Avangeline, I’m inclined to believe that is who is real and she’s fuckin’ fake.”

When the faerie tries to pivot to action? Juno doesn’t buy it for a second. Maybe one of Olette’s many personalities is capable of blowing up her place of work, but the version of herself she is on her homeworld? As fucking if. This Olette is a fucking coward and her word is worth less than the mycelium empire in her fucking fridge. (But it used to be worth the worlds. It used to mean everything to the pirate, before she came to understand that all of Olette’s well wishes and desires to keep Juno in a good headspace had been about the mission— her mission and duty to her bitch ass world. She never cared about Juno for Juno’s sake and Juno will never forgive her or herself for being such a fucking idiot. She fucking ruined her own life for the faerie. Took a huge fucking chance on her when it mattered, and now? Now she gets a butterfly knife to the back. Serves her fucking right for thinking anyone could be different.)

“You won’t even punch a demon in the face. Fuck off.” That’s all Juno can muster before she’s pushing past Olette and making her way through the hotel lobby. Ravan spots them and while he’s clearly apprehensive— it must be obvious that they are no longer anything— he does try to wave at Juno in his usual good natured way. Juno shoulder checks him, hard, on her way out and hisses, “Don’t try that fake bullshit with me, asswipe. I’m not the fuckin’ idiot you all think I am.”

(The mini-skeletons all seem to know their maker is leaving and can be seen running after her from the banquet hall. Some are slowed down by the wallets or purses that they managed to snag.)

If she ever sees that fucking faerie again, Juno doesn’t think she’ll hesitate in attacking her. If she doesn’t get by now that the pirate wants nothing to do with her, then it’s her fucking funeral. And if she doesn’t understand that the pirate is the sort of person who will defend to the death, that’s also her fucking funeral. (Olette may have been a fake bitch their entire stint together, but Juno wasn’t.) The faerie is the last fucking person she wants to see right now. She wishes she could scrub her memories clean of ever having met the fake bitch. The fake bitch who maybe did invest herself in the mission— the cube’s mission— but never figured out what she’d fucking do when she eventually made it back home. Maybe she figured she’d never fucking come back and never have to deal with that, but that didn’t fucking happen and now Juno knows, with certainty, who the faerie is. Greedy. Selfish. Manipulative. Dishonest. Un-fucking-trustworthy. She’s fucking right to leave and break her oath.

Juno storms out onto the streets of Avangeline, finding the nearest train port and hopping on whatever train comes next, not caring if this sends her in the wrong direction. (She remembers the line they took to get here and understands that the transit system is all generally connected.) She just needs to put as much fucking distance as she possibly can between herself and that fucking traitor.

At random, she hops off one train and gets onto another, only paying attention to the line she’s on as a means to navigate herself back to her ship. When she is eventually far enough away (she hopes) from Olette and in a part of the world she does not recognize (not that that isn't pretty much everywhere), she hops off the train and finds a conveniently located bar across the way. (Yeah, she should probably head back to Lady, and she wants to, but she also feels restless, aimless, and not actually ready to go home.)

She must still be in the upper tiers, because the clientele are all posh, well dressed, and have their noses naturally up in the air. The pirate shoves her way to the bar and orders one shot, then another, and another until she’s almost forgotten about the ache (that isn’t there) in her chest. Until it’s soothed. (Not that it’s there. Juno obviously feels nothing for Olette now. The faerie is dead to her. Dead, dead, dead. Just like those copies of Olette that fell around her during the worst nightmare they experienced.) The pirate inhales sharply, holds it, and bites down on her tongue until what’s not happening in her chest is overwhelmed by her bleeding tongue.

A woman with a forgettable face sidles up next to Juno, running her hand over her stupidly buff arm. She says something, the twinkle in her eyes indicates that she’s propositioning the pirate and Juno completely blows her off. She jerks her arm from the woman and backs away from the bar, scowling at her all the while. 'Everyone here is so fucking entitled.' She stumbles into the crowd, bumps into a few people playing billiards, before eventually tripping into the bathroom (quite literally). Surprisingly, it's empty and Juno takes the moment to recollect herself in front of the mirror. She splashes her face with some water and—

“Juju!”

The pirate stiffens, eyes blurring out for a second. She grips the sides of the sink to prevent herself from doing anything irrational. (Maybe the faerie isn’t as dead to Juno as she’d like her to be.) Her eyes flick up to the mirror, unable to face the faerie directly.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you…” She bites her cheek and shuffles awkwardly. “I was worried you left already—”

“What part of ‘fuck off’ don’t you understand? You entitled fuck— you can’t keep fucking showing up everywhere!” Juno heaves, glaring at the reflection. (Something is off about the faerie. Juno can’t place it, maybe doesn’t want to, but something screams at the pirate to take a closer look. But the pirate is stubborn and pulls her gaze away, staring at herself instead. It just hurts.) “Aren’t you supposed to be blowing up your fancy fucking work?” Her brow quirks. ‘Knew she wouldn’t. Fucking coward when it counts.’

Juno doesn’t see the look of surprise on Olette’s face since she is keeping her attention on her own features. But the half minute it takes for the woman to respond has her glancing at the reflection and that’s when she notices it. Her avian sharp features are just a little too sharp. Her white dress is too clean, too. It also lacks the details over the bodice and the neckline is entirely off— from sweetheart to a deep V-plunge.

In a single motion, without hesitation, Juno grabs the molar in her pocket, enchants it, and turns to throw it at the entity. The molar explodes into a spike deathtrap, forcing the entity drops the illusion, turning into their shadowy form so that the bone spikes pass through their body without actually piercing them. They smile like a shark at Juno who is already working out her next move, recalling that the entity never seems to be able to get away from her if she has them in her grasp. With that in mind, she lunges forward and nearly tumbles into her own spike trap as the entity shutters out of range. They appear right behind Juno and grab onto her mussed bun, yanking her head back. The pirate grunts then is thrown into the sinks, hitting her head and splitting it open. Juno struggles to get up, head spinning in one direction and the world in another, dizzying her. Wildly, her eyes look around for the assailant—

The entity brings down an enlarged fist over the back of Juno’s head, effectively knocking her out. The entity smirks as they return to their pink-eyed and white haired form. “Thanks for the tip, pirate. Perhaps you are loyal to Avangeline after all.” As they step out of the bathroom, they pull out their mobile device. "Crane, it's Angelus. We may have a tiny faerie-sized problem..."

 

[ellarose]

Lettie stands as still as a graveyard statue, watching Juno's back as she leaves while knowing it's the last she'll ever see of her. (The broken locket might be clenched in her hand right now. But the pirate is taking her whole heart with her.) So that's it. That's the way this ends. A cocktail of grief, hatred and fear roils in her gut and she presses her back against the glass of the elevator for support when she senses her wobbly legs are about to buckle. Unmoving, she watches as the elevator doors grow impatient and close again. It offers her one last moment of privacy. A whimper escapes her throat and she slams the heels of her palms against her eyes, as if to physically push her tears in. No time for tears. Not now... maybe not ever again. She's got important shit to do first. One last time, she's got to prove herself.

Pull yourself together, Letts. Lettie does exactly that because she has to. She peels herself from the glass, attempts to shake out the nerves, and fixes her glamours and make-up, becoming the 'fake bitch' she's had to be to survive. She steps out into the party and graces them all with the performance of a lifetime as schmoozes and says her goodbyes for the evening. (Enduring snide comments about her earlier appearance all the while. Comments about who her father must have been, for her to have turned out like that. But none of them hit her quite so hard. She can't be bothered to give a single fuck. All that matters... Juno's opinion is all that matters. And right now the pirate hates her guts.) It's as she sneaks out the door that she checks the corporation key cards she calculatedly swiped from their pockets and evening bags.

It's as Lettie's leaving that a very tall someone stands in her path, obscuring the hotel doors. She swears she could punch whoever it is in the face with the adrenaline pumping through her now... until she sees that it's Ravan. Concerned, good-natured, wannabe vampire Ravan. (This is going to be the last time she sees him, too.)

"Lettie, what happened?" Ravan asks. He means well. He always means well, the dope. She's going to miss him. "Juno was--"

"Stay here, Ravan. I don't want you to get involved." Lettie warns, antsy on her feet. (She needs to get out of here before Crane or Angelus catches up.) Unlike her, Ravan's going to have to stay on Avangeline. Live with whatever comes next. If there's any reason for them to think that he's involved in her scheme... she's not going to have him suffering consequences for her actions the rest of his life. She bolsters a smile she hopes is reassuring. (It's awkward and weird. This is not the time for smiling but she doesn't know what else to do.) "Don't worry. I know exactly what I'm doing." Uh huh. Oh, stars. Electric urgency prickles to life under her skin. Pressing her glossed lips into a line, a conflicted flicker passes through her green eyes and she steps forward to wrap her arms around him in a hug. One last time. She needs it. "I love you." I'm sorry.

"Wait, wait, wait. You're worrying me--" Ravan starts but the faerie has already glitched beyond his reach. What she doesn't notice is him taking notice of the deck of facility key cards in her hand. "Lettie!"

Ravan starts to follow and then stops when he notices a mini-skeleton, the one that hung on the chandelier, trailing far behind the rest to return to Juno.

Lettie weaves hurriedly through the small crowd outside, nearly escaping the venue... but not before she smashes into Xanthe. "Oh, look who finally decided to show her face!" The demon starts in that nasally tone of voice. (...Shit. The faerie has not missed Xanthe. Not even a little.) "Olette. You're looking quite... hm..." She's no doubt contemplating the most insulting word she can find in her repertoire. Instead of keeping her mocking commentary to herself, the way she always has, the faerie punches her in the face. How's that for punching demons in the face? (What? She wanted to punch someone and the universe graciously supplied someone with a punchable face! Fuck it.) Besides, she's been hearing about her looks all night and she's fucking sick of it. Why should she waste another second on this bullshit? Despite all her efforts, tending to her reputation and walking within the restrictive lines, her name has been dragged through dirt and blood all evening. What does it even matter anymore? (Juno hates her now.) There's no future Lettie left to worry about the consequences. If she's ever gonna act on her impulses, it's now or never.

"Can't say I wanna hear it, Xanthe." Lettie taunts as she dodges Xanthe's desperate lunge for revenge, throwing a pair of finger-guns over her shoulder. "I've got places to be. Bye bitch!" Bye forever.

***​

Beep, beep, beep. Machines work tirelessly, flickering their lights in the darkness of the corp building long after the employees have all gone. Lettie holds her breath, ducked in a corner of the corp building where she's pressed between a supply crate and one of the steely industrial walls. She glitched through walls without preventative glyphs installed in their surfaces and used the key cards she stole to enter the rooms containing them. With her expertise, she manages to slip in undetected. Everyone with the exception of the security guards she knocked out are at the party. (She stole one of their radios to be safe-- to warn her in case any stragglers are wandering around. She can't let herself caught before she does significant damage. Significant enough to catch even the attention of an escaping pirate.) With an ultra-focused expression on her face, the faerie lowers her goggles over her eyes and sets her hand mirror down in front of her. She draws a glyph into the surface that warps and allows her to reach inside like a pool of water, flashing different scenes around the corp building. Occasionally she sends bomberflies fluttering in via looking glass magic, exploding any machines or neon colored chemical tubes that she believes might have sinister purposes. (That's mostly all of it at this point.) The color is rapidly draining from her hair and eyes as she works but she can't be bothered to care.

Some scenes are clouded and inaccessible... meaning they must be important. (A striking crimson light pulses through the haziness of one image, reminding her of a heartbeat.) Hm. It's got to be heavily guarded for a reason. Lettie hacks in, tracing coordinates through the looking glass data and she sets off unhesitatingly on her path towards it. She's going to find the heart of this facility and break it the way it broke hers.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are..." A creepy voice crackles to life through the radio at her hip, freezing Lettie's blood to ice. Angelus. The entity. Whoever the fuck they are. "We know you're here, faerie. Let's talk before you do something foolish."

"Fuck." Lettie quickens to a lightning pace, flying as fast as her wings can carry her through the corridors. Thump, thump, thump. The sound of pursuers clash with the hum of her beating wings and the hammering of her heart. They're gaining on her. (How in the worlds did they find her? How did they know?) She shrinks herself down and glitches into one of the nearby walls, soaring through the vent system instead of the halls. Try and catch me now, creeps. All this time looking down on her, looming over her, and they're not going to fucking get her. Not yet. Not until she's stolen this from them. She leaves a trail of bomberflies behind her, exploding portions of the ceiling and walls whenever she's a safe enough distance away. (With any luck, she'll block their path... or outright hit them.) At last she zips into the room she's been searching for.

There's a large, circular piece of machinery with a bead of crimson light swirling restlessly at the center. It looks like... a portal, maybe? Around it are pillars covered in faintly glowing glyphs. Each one contains a cube-shaped indent. That's it. Lettie has no fucking clue what she's looking at right now. If she was going to live to see tomorrow she might have studied it a little closer... but as it is now? It doesn't matter. She doesn't have time to figure it out. But it's got to be something.

Lettie's heart pounds as if threatening to burst out of her chest as she motions both of her hands, using all that remains of her magic to sculpt a menacingly large bomberfly. This one is ultra-charged, it's sparkling crystal-like wings aglow with holographic pinks and blues. The lights reflect in her eyes as she affectionately taps the bomberfly's head with her forefinger before sending it off towards the crimson orb. It lands safely.

Lettie grins, lopsided with an amalgam of wickedness and relief. Even when a set of shadowy arms yanks her backward... she's done it. Juju, I'm still with you. See?

"Olette, you little--!" Crane's voice roars with outrage but the rest of that sentiment can't be heard over the satisfyingly loud BOOM of the explosion that follows. From the outside, all the upper tiers of Avangeline can see the entire building erupting in pinkish smoke... and everything goes dark.

***​

Lettie's somewhat surprised to be waking up again after everything goes dark. The pain thrumming through the back of her skull indicates that she's still alive. For now. It seems Crane or the entity teleported her elsewhere, as she hadn't perished in the explosion... but they certainly haven't taken her to safety. Her whole body aches, pulsing with fresh bruises of being roughly handled or beaten up. (...Seems like someone must've had a temper tantrum and taken it out on her. Even when she wasn't conscious to defend herself. So typical of those freaks.) She makes a mild attempt to move and flinches, quickly finding she's been strung up by her wrists in magicked chains. Through her torn dress, her knees are cold against the starry tiled floor. She bows her head and closes her eyes. Whatever comes for her next, she can't fight it. It's over.

"It seems we can't just do away with you. Even though you deserve it for the damage you've caused." Crane paces in front of her, his footsteps clicking against the floor. He sighs as if this is a great shame, tilting his head towards her wrist. (Lina's bracelet is gone. The scar and countdown can be vaguely seen behind her shackle. She's marked and Crane doesn't have the power to outright end her unless he wants to face the wrath of the estate.) "...Now tell us where the relics are, you little menace."

"Fuck off, gramps." Lettie scoffs. "I'm not telling you shit." She keeps her eyes on the floor... when someone grabs a fistful of her hair, lifting her head and forcing her gaze upward. Fuzzily, she can just make out the familiar features of... Juno...? What? Her heart stutters. No. This can't be right. She might be tripping, but she swears her scar is off-- as well as the length of her hair.

'Juno' walks around her, hand still buried painfully in her white hair, and presses her free hand against her back. Gently before it morphs into what feels like a giant claw, gripping harshly into her wing. Cracking bones, tearing through skin. Fuck. Her wings spasm and glow with distress. (No. No, not Juno. It can't be.) She flails, finding she's unable to move away as the claw begins peeling her wing from her back like a petal from a flower... the the point where she can feel it starting to detach itself from her body. Warm blood rolls down her back, leaving prominent stains on her white dress. Though she makes an effort to clamp her jaw shut through the pain, she screams out against her will, clenching her eyes shut tightly as tears spring.

"You know how this works, don't you sweetheart?" Not-Juno drawls, wearing a smile that's much too cruel to belong to her. (The pirate has some homicidal tendencies, yes, but she's too soft to have overturned all her opinions of her this quickly. To be this harsh with her. That's not the Juno she knows and loves.) They pause mid-tear, leaving her right wing halfway intact. They flick it on occasion and then pause, just to delight in the way she shivers and squirms with every tiny movement. "...If you talk, I'll stop."

"I'm... I'm not talking..." Lettie rasps out, clinging to her fading consciousness. "No matter what you do, I'm not..."

"Listen to reason, Olette. This is still salvageable." Crane supplies, barely concealing his irritation that their torturous methods haven't done shit for them. "I'm sure the estate has an excellent doctor."

Lettie's shaking but she stays defiantly silent. All this time silencing her... and now they want her to talk? Sure. Whatever. She's done giving them what they want. After what feels like a lifetime, the entity sighs. "...Well, that's a shame. Perhaps you need to realize that I'm serious about this?"

And with that? They tear the right wing clean off the faerie's back.

 

[starboob]

Juno’s head is a throbbing thunderstorm and each pulse wets her forehead with more blood. Her back and side ache and there’s an uncomfortable pressure around her wrists, like a dulled knife is trying to cut into them. She groans out as she comes to, hearing distant voices screaming from below and panicked cries coming from above. The beat of feathered wings seems to be coming from all sides and when she cracks her eyes open, the sky is full of winged people all fleeing in the same direction. She looks to what they’re all running from and can only make out plumes of pink smoke some distance away. Confusedly, she tries to rise and that’s when she recognizes her current predicament. No longer is the pirate in the bathroom of some bar, collapsed on the floor after taking a beating from that shadow entity. Instead, she’s cuffed to a metal pipe on a rooftop— whether still at the bar or some place else entirely, she doesn’t know and it hardly matters being that she’s cuffed in place and can’t even fish out one of her remaining shards to pick the lock. (She doesn’t dare attempt to try and break the chain on the pipe, seeing the deep cuts already biting into her skin from the pressure of the position.)

‘Fuck.’ She tilts her head against the concrete wall behind her, slowly remembering everything that transpired right before she woke in this position. Her eyes snap open. “Fuck.” With realization hitting her like an anvil from the sky, she yanks on the cuffs, not at all caring about the injuries she’s incurring, only aware that she possibly put Olette in danger. (No, it’s not that she cares about the traitor… she just hadn’t meant to betray her in turn!) Her eyes search the sky again, finding the plumes of pink smoke; she notes, too, that all the city lights have gone out around her and her heart jolts and sinks all at once. ‘That could be anything. It could be her. It could be something else.’ She struggles harder.

Something small tugs on her coat, momentarily distracting her and pulling her attention to her five mini-skeletons that are crawling out of her pocket and scaling her side. One runs the length of her shoulder and climbs up her arm until they are near the pirate’s hand. They wave their mini hand and then stick it into the keyhole of the cuffs, jangle it around, trying to hit the proper mechanisms within. As this happens, three winged figures descend from the skies and land gracefully before Juno. Demons.

“Aht, aht, aht.” One wags their claw scoldingly at the pirate, a sharp toothed smirk on their lips. “You’ll be coming with us, pirate. I recommend cooperating. Of course, if you don’t enjoy having all your limbs intact…” They trail off, nudging their colleagues’ sides who chuckle between themselves as if this is just an amusing prank. “I hear that your little—”

Juno doesn’t let them finish. While they monologue, the necromancer bites the inside of her cheek until she bleeds. In the next second, she's spitting blood needles at the demons’ faces and using her limited range of motion to sweep their ankles with her legs as they stumble and yelp out from impact.

“You fucking bitch.” A different demon than the first grips her bleeding face with one hand and lights a ball of fire in the other, throwing it haphazardly towards Juno. Juno ducks and scoots as far to one side as she can to avoid the attack and while she dodges this one, she knows she won’t be so lucky with the next. Another fireball is forming in the demon’s fist as she readies to take aim again, except, before she can, another winged figure appears in the sky. Backlit against the moon, his silhouette makes for an ominous entrance, but Juno recognizes the vampire dork immediately.

“Lower thy hand, fiend.” His feet hit the ground gently in the same instant that he flourishes his cape and draws up a complex red glyph. (On his shoulder, a mini-skeleton waves at Juno.) “Or faceth mine wrath.”

Juno misses what happens next as everything turns bright, hot, and orange. She shields her eyes behind her arm as best she can, feeling the flares from the flames hitting her cheeks and burning her clothes. Screams and curses fill the air, accompanying the woosh of fire and when all is still again, Juno blinks to see Ravan still standing. Injured, bleeding from his arm, and panting heavily, but standing. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and approaches the pirate and offers her a hand. She’s about bite out something about the cuffs, but hears them clatter to the ground a second later, the skeleton on her hand whooping and hollering (or motioning that they are). She pulls herself free of the cuffs, rubs her wrists, and accepts Ravan’s assist. “How— why–?”

“No time to explain. Lettie’s in trouble.” It’s obviously risky for him to assume Juno wants anything to do with the faerie, she’s even shocked to see him here at all after everything, but Juno decides to give him no reason to question his choices. In silent agreement, she climbs onto his back and they ascend into the night sky.

From this new height, it becomes clear that the entirety of the upper tiers have blacked out. While some streetlights and buildings have a soft glow, most likely thanks to back-up power sources, whatever happened while Juno was knocked out was big. (Her stomach sinks.) Her eyes once more find the source of pink smoke and, finally, Juno spots a half detonated building, still smoldering while emergency services cast glyphs to contain and bat against the flames. In the rubble, she makes out a half destroyed sign that reads, ‘Creation.’ She looks away, trying to find hope in the fact that they’re not flying towards the wreckage but the sinking in her stomach still becomes a full abyss. (She knows what the faerie is capable of when backed into a corner. When trying to protect Juno. She knows it’s possible (likely) that this destruction could be because of Olette and Juno silently hopes it isn’t and that the faerie is in trouble for other reasons. If she’s in trouble because of this, Juno knows who’s to blame.) Her hands feel hot and sticky, like blood is coating them.

Ravan takes them to an empty floating rock near the edge of this tier and points to another island not too far from their position. A warehouse facility marked with the corp’s insignia sits on this island, surrounded by rows and rows of stacked shipping containers. The warehouse grounds are brightly lit, running on back-up generators, leaving little room for cover. Guards patrol the perimeter like ants, armed to the teeth with magicked weapons. She doesn’t need to ask Ravan if this is where Olette is being held. She can feel her, thanks to the channel they opened between themselves many worlds ago. ‘Stupid fucking idiot. Shoulda fucking felt for that, you fucking dumbass.’

She steels herself, grinding down on her jaw. Now's not the time. “How’re we getting in?”

Ravan squints, crouching low to keep himself hidden as he deliberates. “I’ll turn you in— ah! No, not my face,” he cowers behind his arms. Juno lowers her fists, deciding to give him a chance. “I’ll pretend to turn you in— yeesh— and… Well, that’s as far as—”

“Fine, let’s do it.” Juno agrees and holds her arms up for him, knowing what to expect with this ruse. “If you fuckin’ betray me, I’ll reshape your skull. Free of charge.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

With that Ravan binds Juno’s hands behind her back, using the cuffs from before. (Apparently, Juno’s mini-skeletons are a bit like magpies and take anything shiny.) Then, through some finangling, they manage their way down to the warehouse island, flying straight up to the entry point. Ravan, to his credit, puts on quite the front, pretending to be some thug and jerks Juno around by her arm. (Part of her thinks this could be retaliation for earlier.) When the security presses him for more information, he doubles down on his role and threatens them, “Fuck if I know. Do you really want to be the one keeping Angelus waiting?”

That gets the guard to gulp and step to the side, ordering the gates open. Once they’re a safe distance away, one of Juno’s skeletons climbs down from her sleeve and picks the lock but keeps the cuffs around her wrists. They approach another guard at the entrance to the warehouse and they run through the gambit once more. This time, the guard escorts them inside.

The warehouse is cold and filled with rows of giant shelves that seem endless. Guards crawl through the warehouse, patrolling the aisles. Juno’s breaths become shallow as she mentally runs logistics of what it’s going to take to get out of here. (She’s not even sure where Olette is or what state she’s in. If she really did do all of that to the corp’s main office building… The pirate can’t imagine she has much magic left in her. She toppled a building and caused a tier-wide power outage. That’s not a handful of bomberflies. That’s all of them, she reckons.)

Eventually, they’re led to a cellar door where they descend further into the depths of the warehouse. In a wordless agreement, the second the door shuts behind them, Ravan and Juno both attack the guard escorting them. Ravan restrains the guard and Juno jams her palm against his nose, driving the bone up. The guard goes limp and a horrified Ravan drops the body, questioning the pirate with a look but saying nothing to protest. The judgment doesn’t phase Juno, if she even notices. She simply decays the flesh around the guard’s hand and restocks her bone supply with fresh phalanges. She does the same to the flesh around the guard’s jaw, collecting their teeth this time.

“Well, come on. Quit fuckin’ staring.”

The passage beneath the warehouse is a straight shot to another room, where Juno can feel that Olette’s signal is strongest—

An unmistakable shriek comes from the end of hallway. Both Ravan and Juno exchange a glance and bolt to the door. Ravan throws another one of his red glyphs, exploding the door open as Juno scatters her new bones in front of her, raising full-sized skeletons. Two guards who must’ve been within the room spring from the explosion and meet Ravan who makes short work of them. He knocks them out and Juno finishes them, adding their corpses to her small platoon.

When they step into the final room, Juno’s heart officially plummets and lands somewhere in Hell. ‘Olette.’ There the faerie is, supported by chains hanging from the ceiling rafters, her white dress now all but soaked dark red. One wing lies discarded in a pool of her blood and the other is gripped in the entity’s hand, who still wears the likeness of Juno. Ice and fire fight for dominance within the necromancer. Her vision hazes out in vehement red, breath shallow and hot. She shoves Ravan’s shoulder, “Get Olette. I’ve got the bastard.”

Juno doesn’t actually realize she’s said anything at all. In her mind, Ravan just must know what to do as Juno charges towards the entity. Though the necromancer ignores Crane, her platoon does not. They go after the old man while the entity taunts Juno by shifting into the likeness of Olette (with wings). “Bastard!”

“Me?” They giggle, sending a kinetic blast towards Juno. “This is your doing. Need I remind you how I got this delicious intel, pirate?”

Juno rolls out of the way of the blast, springing to her feet once she's safe. She growls at their taunts, guilt already getting into her head when her eyes flick over to the real Olette. 'Stupid fucking pirate.' The entity tries to use her distraction against her, but Juno's quick and shoves her feelings to the side for a later time. Again, she jumps out of the way and this time throws enchanted bone towards them. Stakes shoot out everywhere, forcing the entity into its shadow form just like in the bathroom. Rather than keep her distance, Juno charges straight for the mass of shadow, aiming towards the glowing eyes. (She's fought this thing enough times to know that there is a solid part to its shadow form.) They tumble across the floor. Juno lands on top. She smashes her fists into their face one, two, three times before the entity bucks her off and wraps smoke tendrils around her, squeezing her like a snake. They slam her across the room, tossing her into the skeletons and corpses that had been occupying Crane.

She lands with a grunt into a pile of shattered skeletons. Crane whips his head towards Juno, the fire in his eyes raging as all his plans become ash in his hands. (The entity regroups and turns their attention to Ravan and Olette.) He approaches the dazed pirate and grabs a fistful of her shirt, lifting her into the air. "You humans should have been wiped from existence." He draws a bright yellow glyph, bringing it close to Juno's face. The skin around her cheek begins to peel back the closer the glyph gets and, similar to earlier, Juno hocks blood needles directly into the geezer's face. Immediately he cries out and drops Juno (as well as the glyph). She sweeps his legs from under him, kicks him in the ribs once he's down, and then brings her heel right over his sternum with a crack. He gasps and a choked cry escapes his throat. His eyes are wide, but unseeing from the shock. The pirate then gathers fistfuls of shattered bone from the floor into her hands; she enchants the pieces and scatters them over Crane. "Wouldn't move, bitch—" Naturally he tries to move his arm and the shard nearest to the movement activates, turning the appendage into nothing more than a gorey stump. "Told ya."

Satisfied that he's not going anywhere, she looks up to Ravan, Olette, and the entity.

 

[ellarose]

What...? Lettie struggles to see or hear anything, the overwhelming pain shaping clouds in her mind that muffle all of her senses. There's just the warm red of her own blood. Drenching her dress, sticking to the ends of her hair, pooling on the floor below her. (My wing...) Her stomach curdles. For now, the ache of the fresh wound overshadows her wing's absence. It's there and it isn't. (Don't fucking cry. Dead faeries don't need their wings, anyway.) It was worth it if it means she can redeem herself in Juno's eyes. She has to endure this until it inevitably ends. Sharp shockwaves cut through her vertebrae and rattle down her spine with every pathetic, rasping breath she takes. When she sees her limp, crushed wing lying on the floor like a corpse she has to actively fight not to pass out.

Everything has a faraway echo to it. The chains clanking overhead, the pounding of her heartbeat, the sound of her knees sliding around on the blood-soaked tiles below her.

But the entity isn't going to let her slip into a merciful state of unconsciousness. "Focus, faerie. Don't make me repeat myself." They force her to wake with smack to the side of her face. As much as she wants to go down triumphantly, grinning in their smug faces and flipping the bird at them like a badass who isn't afraid to die, she can't stop herself from whimpering out. "Aw, cute. But those puppy-dog eyes aren't going to work on me. Minx." Their claws start to peel her other wing back, striking a nerve like a match to dynamite and intensifying the pain she's already in. "All you have to do is tell us where the relic is." Tears well up until she can't hold them anymore, slipping down her cheeks as she defiantly bites her tongue.

"Fu..." Lettie's quick tongue is unusually heavy in her mouth. Fuck off. Get bent. That's essentially the sentiment she wishes to convey. She wishes she could bash that over their head like a rock until they get it through their thick skull. However, there's no time to finish when... voices... she blinks hard, scarcely believing that she's coherent enough to be seeing what she's seeing right now. The entity does drop her wing, meaning that someone has arrived to interrupt. And the someone charging towards them is... "Juju?"

She came back. Lettie can do little more than lean forward in her chains and twitch her fingers when the pirate and entity move past her limited range of sight. Relief and dread smash into her all at once, shattering something brittle and worn in her. She came back.

"Lette." Not just Juno, but Ravan too. He gingerly cups her face in his hand, careful to avoid bruises, and examines her injuries. "Look at me. It's going to be okay. You're going to be okay. I'm here." He says this, perhaps knowing that promise may be empty, because he looks like he's going to cry. (A scream of 'what the hell were you thinking' no doubt lingers underneath it all as well.) Worry for Juno and Ravan swirls inside her alongside everything else. They're all drowning in a shit bananas sundae at this point.

"No... it's..." Lettie shakes her head, blinking through tears that blur his features. Ravan shushes her gently as he begins examining the chains on her wrists. He hoists a miniature skeleton up to look at them, but neither of them can find a lock to pick.

"Magicked chains. Shit." The vampire wannabe hisses. Then Lettie senses him stiffening. Taking notice of something on her wrist. (He knows about the scar, so it must be...) "Which one of them has the key?" He avoids the subject for now but she knows she'll be questioned later. (If there's still time. From this angle, she can't see the numbers on her wrist.) "Do you know?" She shakes her head slowly, somberly, and winces. Pain digs into her back again with the movement. She's slipping.

Ravan says something to reassure her afterwards, though she can't exactly understand it. Everything is garbled. When the faerie tries lifting her head again, she vaguely sees Juno being tossed by the entity as Ravan joins in on the fight to help and probably search for the key. Meanwhile, the miniature skeleton stands in front of her with their ribs puffed out brazenly, as if they're standing there to guard her. It's pretty cute. (...Fuck. She's going to miss the skeleton crew when she's gone. To think she thought she entertained thoughts that she was a part of it just that morning. But Juno was going to leave her behind. Didn't even give her the chance to say goodbye.) But she's here now. The faerie hangs motionlessly in the chains, her breathing steadily becoming more shallow with every passing second. (She doesn't see more of the miniature skeletons, holding some of Ravan's spare vials to collect her blood before discreetly scampering off to catch up to him.) The world is just beginning to go dark again when...

A claw sinks into Lettie's remaining wing and she cries out. Ravan is nowhere to be seen and Juno is standing over Crane. The entity presses a knife-shaped claw up against her throat to dissuade them from getting too close. "Last chance, faerie. Would you like to tell me where the relic is now?"

"Fuck... off..." Lettie spits with the last dredges of her strength. The entity snarls, realizing they've still gotten nowhere and will continue to get nowhere with this approach. They wrap her waist with one tendril before violently tearing her body and her wing in opposite directions. It's quick but not painless. She unleashes an agonized cry before the shock of it drags her into an abysmally deep sleep.

The entity smacks her face a few times and clicks their tongue condescendingly when she doesn't flinch or rouse. "...Onus. Useless to the bitter end." They elongate the knife-shaped claw at her throat, batting one of the miniature skeletons away as it tries to hit the entity with a sneak attack. "Your turn, pirate." The shadow entity tilts their head thoughtfully. "Where are the relics? Or would you like even more of her blood on your hands?" They cut deep enough to draw a few beads of blood.

Before anything can be done, however, a small red glyph shines brightly beneath them. Lettie's body glows as well, outward from the fresh wounds on her back, before vanishing from the chains and the entity's grasp. The faerie reappears again at the other end of the room, cradled in Ravan's arms. He kneels by her discarded wing. (It seems her blood is on his hands, as he's gone and traced a large and complex glyph using her blood.) And as for the smaller glyph beneath the now empty chains? It seems that was the work of one of the miniature skeletons who followed his earlier instructions. The other skeletons pull and motion for Juno to run within range of the larger glyph, towards Ravan and Lettie. Once they get her there, it begins to glow as well.

"Blood magic." The entity growls, recognizing it. They start to lunge for the trio... but it's useless as Ravan, Lettie, and Juno are teleported from the room.

***​

They end up reappearing in a foggy flower field underneath a weeping willow tree, far away from the upper tiers of Avangeline. It's mystical and beautiful here-- but there's little time or reason for any of them to take in the scenery. With shaky hands, Ravan quickly lays Lettie down on her stomach in the bed of flowers. He shakes himself out of his cloak and tearing it into shreds he can use to temporarily dress her wounds. The flowers she bleeds on react to her presence, strengthening and glowing faintly from within. They leaning towards her and help (slowly) to staunch the flow.

"...Faerie blood. A powerful resource." Ravan chokes out as the small skeletons present Juno with the vials of blood they collected from the scene. (Beneath his panic is a trace of bitterness-- particularly with the word 'resource'.) "I studied a lot of blood magic as a kid. It was sort of a fixation." Spoken like a true vampire wannabe. "Ordinarily, I would never..." He's in a state of shock, clearly, looking down at his bloodied hands. "But there was so much of it. I couldn't let it go to waste."

Ravan swallows hard, breathing heavily as he tries (and fails) to calm himself.

"I don't know what happened between the two of you earlier. But Lettie isn't safe here." Ravan takes her wrist and turns it at an angle, showing Juno the scar and countdown there. "I don't know what this is..." He strokes his thumb over the numbers. There's an hour left. "But she's running out of time." He sets her wrist back down and strokes her blood-soaked hair gently. "There's not much I can say to explain. I know very little of her plight. The only thing I've gathered over the years is that she's been marked... and likely cursed."

The faint signal of an alarm blares through the air. Ravan swallows hard, realizing he has to hurry. "It's shit for faeries on Avangeline. Being away... I can tell it was good for her." The sounds are coming closer. "Please. Take her back to your ship. Take her far away from here and keep her safe. Otherwise..." Looking like he wants to hurl, he tips his head towards the lake, the serene surface reflecting the stars. (He recalls a promise he made a long time ago. Lettie insisting she would rather her soul live on in a place like this than become a resource elsewhere... asking him for assistance should the unthinkable ever come to pass.) "There's no other option. Nowhere I can hide her here. The only way she lives is by getting her the hell away from Avangeline."

 

[starboob]

Lettie’s scream pierces through Juno’s heart. Her entire body goes numb. Her veins freeze as chills dump over her figure, eyes wide with shock, fear, rage— everything all at once. All she can do is stare at the wingless faerie, passed out, bleeding. ‘My fault.’

It takes Juno a moment to realize she hasn’t been breathing, that all her faculties seemed to have shut off all at once witnessing the slow motion event. (At least, it happened in slow motion for Juno. It plays again and again in her mind, against the back of her eyelids, and she knows it will haunt her sleep and fill the gaps in her days whenever she’s idle.) ‘You betrayed her.’

Her breaths are ragged and shallow and it takes everything in the pirate-necromancer to pull herself together enough to remember how to move again. Her hands form into fists. She becomes acutely aware of the bones behind the raw skin of her knuckles, pressing against the ruined flesh. The storm in her eyes travels through her heart, invigorates her arms and she’s ready to throw all caution to the wind to rip the entity limb from fucking limb. ‘You don’t fucking touch a lady’s wings.’ Her knuckles begin to sharpen, almost forming into points, but before she can go that far, Lettie’s suddenly across the room in Ravan’s arms and Juno understands this is the time to go. (As much as she wants to fight, fighting isn’t going to help Olette. She needs to be attended to first and foremost.) She bolts to the gangly vampire wannabe and the second her foot makes contact with the glyph, they’re all gone.

Adrenaline and cortisol are all still flooding through her veins when they land in a serene forest, but Juno hardly notices their surroundings. Her eyes are fixed on the limp faerie who is set on top of the bed of flowers. Pressure pushes against her eyes and she crushes her eyelids shut before tears can form or flow, pinching the ducts to keep them closed. ‘She’s never going to fly again.’ (Memories of her flying fill her mind— the tricks she’d do to show off, the way she’d dive bomb tackle into Juno, how she’d free fall off ledges only to soar back up. That’s all gone. Juno took that from her.) 'She could fly before she could walk.'

With Ravan’s explanation, Juno can only numbly nod and accept the vials, understanding his sentiment entirely. Juno would never want to use her as a power bag, but even she remembers what happened when she used her own version of blood magic to ward off the duchess. (Shit, she reckons at least three generations of duchesses won’t be able to enter that property with how powerful that ward was.) She clutches the vials to her chest, then puts them into her pocket.

As he continues to explain and draws attention to the faerie’s wrist, it’s the first time Juno’s ever taken notice of her scar. (Her wrist looks so naked different without her bracelet.) ‘Why didn’t she tell me?’ It’s possible she never trusted Juno as much as she let on, but it’s also possible the reasons are more sinister. That's probably it since not even Ravan knows the details. (“Juno. If things go shit bananas tonight, you need to find that book.”) Though she can’t be sure whether or not the answer rests within that journal, either way Olette had been adamant that she find it. She had given those three squeezes and asked that Juno find the book right after. It couldn’t’ve been coincidence. (There’s still a lot the pirate is uncertain of when it comes to the faerie, but she blew up another corporation for Juno. No part of her can deny that. Just as no part of her can deny that everything that transpired afterwards is her fault.)

“I’ll keep her safe. I’ve got her.” She nods to Ravan, finally tearing her gaze away from the faerie. She claps her hand on his shoulder, an apology and thanks in her eyes. She almost voices it, but ultimately keeps quiet. Instead, she just flips her hand up to offer to the skeleton on his shoulder. But the skeleton looks reluctantly between Ravan and Juno’s hand. “Ah, think they want to stay with you.” They sign something at the necromancer and she nods. She then taps their head, giving them some fangs, and then removes her hand. “Their name is Lestat.”

That’s the last thing she says to Ravan before he departs, flying away as the alarms get closer and closer, and leaving Juno with the faerie. With the flowers careening towards the faerie and seeming to help her injuries, the pirate isn’t sure to move her, but decides the risk is necessary if she’s to keep her promise. She scoops Olette up into her arms, careful to avoid putting pressure or friction against her numerous injuries. Though she isn’t sure where she is in relation to her ship, she somehow knows not to worry about it and the cube blinks next to her a second later. While it doesn’t have a distinguished face, she can tell its mood is as somber as her own. Quietly, its faces each light up and—

blip!

They’re back on her ship and, for once, Juno has landed on her feet, still clutching the faerie. She doesn’t take notice of the blood red skies around them or the comets that streak through it. No, Juno beelines to the infirmary, her full focus on making sure Olette is tended to and taken care of. ‘You did this.’

Since acquiring the Medic, the infirmary has been greatly enhanced, to the point where it isn’t even recognizable. She sets Olette’s body down on one of the two hospital beds and begins pulling out supplies from the cabinets. ‘Can I grow her wings back? Can I make her new ones?’ Shakily, she tears open a box of gloves as she sets to work but isn’t able to make it far with the tears now forcing their way to the surface, blurring her vision.

It’s at that moment that the sterile white cube wearing a mini-stethoscope blinks into the room and shoos Juno to the side with its two spider like arms that pop out of its side panels. Marjorie enters shortly after and pushes Juno into the chair between the beds to inspect her injuries. She doesn’t say anything, but Juno knows she has questions. She knows the entire crew does, but Juno’s too numb to do more than stare blankly at the ground in front of her. Marjorie butterflies the cut on Juno’s head and cleans the melted line of flesh on her cheek from Crane's glyph. Her knuckles are wrapped. She's instructed to lift her shirt so Marjorie can assess the blows she took during the fight, tsking all the same. Juno barely notices any of this.

The Medic cleans Olette’s wounds and stitches them closed. A numbing balm is applied over them and bandages are neatly placed over the sewn gashes. The cube says something about how often they should be changed, but the pirate doesn’t hear it. ‘I have to fix this.’ Thankfully, Marjorie is taking notes on her captain’s behalf.

Inez and the Magistrate come in after the Medic has finished and help to clean Olette up and change her out of her dress and into something fresh. When they’re done, Juno finally stirs from her seat and glances over at the faerie. She stands and runs her fingers over the faerie’s cheek, tucking a strand of damp white hair behind her pointy ear. It’s now that she notices the bruises Olette incurred possibly while held in that underground room in the warehouse. There’s a bandage around her throat from the entity’s claw and she also notes the ring-bruise that wraps around the entirety of her neck, unlike if she had been choked by hands but maybe a cord.

Another stab of guilt plunges into her gut.

Then her eyes land on her scarred wrist and the countdown that’s now zeroed out. ‘Marked. Cursed.’ What does that mean? Why didn’t she tell her? Or at least hint at this? She shuts her eyes and inhales sharply. When she opens them again, staring at the scar around her wrist, she realizes that along with her wings, the bracelet is gone too. It’s not hard for her to guess that the bracelet had been to specifically cover the mark, but, more than that, the piece had been the one constant through all of her outfit changes and glamours. She never glamoured the bracelet. Another twist of guilt courses through her, guessing the piece might have been significant for that reason alone. Though it won’t make up for it, she leaves the plain white scarf she had stuffed into her pocket next to her wrist. (She doesn’t know if the faerie will take it or not, but something in her has to leave her with some sort of truce.)

She leaves not long after that and doesn’t return. Phillip and Prissy are the ones who most often keep her company until she wakes. (Well, until Prissy gets bored and searches the ship for Juno.) The demon bug army also takes residence in the infirmary, somewhat acting as her guard.

Juno, meanwhile, locks herself in her study. The first night back, the skeletons can only hear curses and crashes, like furniture or objects are being tossed around. (They are.) The next day they can only make out the shadow of their captain pacing back and forth through the crack beneath the door. On the third day, they’re surprised to see the pink velvet couch outside of the study. But aside from that, it’s the only evidence they have that she’s left the room at all since arriving back from Avangeline. Not even the gym or the kitchen have evidence of being disturbed. (Winnie, who has since taken a residence in the gym showers, confirms the captain hasn't been seen in there either.) Her bed has been left cold, too.

Maybe that’s why Marjorie seems anxious when Olette finally starts to rouse. “Easy now, dear.” The skeleton coaxes, gently putting her hand on the faerie’s shoulder to keep her still. “The Medic says the nature of your injuries will take some time to heal.” Marjorie goes quiet after that, her eye glows shifting around the room awkwardly. Like she can feel the tension between Olette and Juno as if it were her own. She sighs, rubbing her old joints. Though it seems silly to ask, she asks anyway. “How are you feeling, Miss Lettie?”

 

[ellarose]

Lettie's wings are two dancing flames on her back, volatile and burning white-hot. They singe her skin like the kiss of a branding iron, smashing into her whenever she moves or so much as breathes the wrong way. It's so painful, she almost wishes that someone would just show her mercy and cut them right--

They're already gone. This is painfully evident when her bandages are replaced and the cold touch of a numbing balm is spread where her wings are supposed to be. They're gone. Dead faeries don't need their wings. But Lettie's hurting far too much to be a dead faerie. As the effect of the balm sets in and eases the ache, if only a little, she starts to take notice of the mattress supporting her. The hum of insects, the tap of footsteps, the rustle of supplies and items being rummaged through. Where am I?

The estate, perhaps? Oh, stars. Lettie would have preferred to be left to bleed out on the floor than nursed back to health and brought into the ring. There's no way she's going to comply with their demands. She'd sooner spit in Admodeus's creepy face and be dragged to the Reaper than... the alternative. (By contract, marked faeries are expected to do as they're told. They're made to be decorations, accessories in the homes of angels and demons, entertainers or magic fuel for underground fights. If they refuse, they're repurposed elsewhere. They're Reaper food.) The faerie searches her mind for her last memories before the world slipped into darkness. Ravan was there, yes. And... hm. The hand on her shoulder is far too bony and sharp to belong to to an estate nurse. The voice too familiar as well. 'Easy now, dear.' Marjorie.

...Juno came back for me. Lettie jerks with that realization and Marjorie presses down on her shoulder a touch more forcefully to keep her from springing up and out of bed. (Her heart jolts and flinches, still too frightened to hope.) The faerie's white eyes flit open, gaze mostly fogged over but insistent on searching the room for even just a glimpse of her as she grapples with the reality of where she is. Her heart sinks. Juno's... not there. But Marjorie is along with their bug swarm. Lettie's on Lady now, there's no mistaking that. So at least hadn't been thrown out and left to die...?

"Marjorie? Am I dying?" Lettie asks, still uncertain of the reality she's awakening in. She hadn't expected to wake up at all, much less on the ship. (Maybe the estate has her hooked onto one of those machines, pumping her full of false fantasies to prevent her from running. But then... if this is supposed to be a fantasy, Juno would be here right now.) She blinks hard. How is she feeling? How is she meant to explain the aftermath of what she considers one of the worst fucking nights of her life? She glimpses her wrist, at the scar and golden zeroes, and then stuffs it under her pillow before hiding her face by pressing it into the sheets. (Only the scarf is lying there. What is Juno trying to say with this? Does she intend to give that back like she did the locket?) "I thought I was going to die." It's fair to say that there are parts of her that didn't make it out of that night alive. Her wings as well as a massive piece of her broken heart. "But I had to do something... I had to..." Her breath hitches. A sharp pain shoots through her back and tears spring to her eyes involuntarily. Crying hurts. Feeling anything right now hurts. It's too much for one tiny, wingless faerie to take.

Marjorie shushes and consoles her, reassuring her that she'll heal just fine as long as she rests and follows the Medic's instructions. Lettie can tell the skeleton has questions about what happened. Questions she supposes Juno hasn't answered yet... or perhaps only answered in her vague and nondescript way. Whatever the case, her reaction persuades the skeleton to completely avoid the subject for the time being. The faerie is given some pills to help with the pain now that she's awake... she's hovered over constantly, treated delicately. After that first day, she refuses to cry at all. There's always someone taking a shift in the infirmary (anyone other than Juno) and she wants privacy to mourn her wings. She doesn't want to give the crew reason to treat her weirder than they've already been treating her.

...Days pass and Juno never shows. Every time someone walks in to take their shift with her, Lettie's gaze snaps to the doorway in case it's her. (It never is.) It's on the third day that she gives up, staring blankly at the wall. She's not coming to see me. Maybe she's keeping her there out of some lingering feeling of obligation. Or pity. But maybe beyond that she still hates her and is just biding her time until she's up on her feet again. Then, with a lighter conscience, she'll kick her out. (Lettie's not sure what she'll do after that. Wingless, homeless... she'll be lost.) The harsh truth remains that Juno was planning to leave her behind even before the corp made their offer. As the crew hovers over her, she starts to wonder if they knew the plan, too. When she pretends to sleep, however, all she gets is concern about her eating habits.

Lettie dreams of flying, dodging bloodied wings that fall all around her, before she gets crushed underneath one. Then she'll snap awake with gravity pressing down on her chest, hard enough to break it open. The desire to grieve her loss of flight swells up but never gets released whenever she notices the concerned glows of one of the skeletons in the room with her. It gets to be so suffocating.

The faerie, fed up with being babied, goes against the Medic's orders one day as she shifts herself small in order to sneak around the ship. Changing her form irritates the gashes on her back... but after she recovers from a dizzying spell of spotted vision, she rides mostly hidden in the fur on Prissy's back to the kitchen. Lettie had briefly considered sneaking in through the crack of the door in the study to confront Juno... but decided against it when she noticed the pink velvet sofa in the hall. Cast out just like she was. Instead, she sneaks some of the space beer from what feels like ages ago into her magic circle and moves up to the upper deck. It's storming but she can't be bothered to care as she climbs the mast and settles in the crow's nest, where she shared the banana bread with Juno, and guzzles down her space beers all while ignoring the searing pain of her pulled stitches. Lettie dangles her feet through the gaps of the slippery, rain-soaked metal slats and focuses on the breeze whipping all around her. If she closes her eyes, if she drinks enough, maybe it'll feel enough like flying to give her the release she's after. (...And if it kills her? She guesses that'll be one less thing for Juno and the crew to worry about. She's been feeling like the guest who has overstayed her welcome, that everyone secretly hates and wants to be rid of.) Right now, with the wind in her hair and the cold touch of rain to her skin, she feels more alive than she has in days.

It doesn't last long. Panic quickly spreads among the crew at the faerie's disappearance and they search every inch of the ship for her. Lettie's too intoxicated to escape when Phillip climbs the mast and carries her back down to safety. The large skeleton holds her up by the waist to examine her reopened gashes as she throws kicks and punches that never land. "Don't take me back there, Phillip. Don't you fuckin' do it." The faerie warns. There is so much drunken anger in her that she can hardly contain it in her tiny body. "I've been sleeping on my tits long enough to deflate them!" She proclaims with a dramatic, imperious cheek-puff. Then she hiccups and slumps, tiredly slurring the rest. "I already lost my wings... and my room on the ship... Juno probably turned it into, like, a second gym or something." That's it. That's why she's been in the infirmary all this time, isn't it? Juno was going to kick her out, so she totally repurposed her room. (She lost Juno, too. Or was she ever really hers to lose? It's too complex a question to contemplate when she's like this.) "I don't wanna lose my tiddies too. They're all I have left, Phillip. My tiddies." She conks out.

Lettie wakes shortly afterwards lying her side (not on her stomach... or her tits) in the privacy of her own room. (...Her room, which apparently hasn't been changed or repurposed at all.) The chair and the pink velvet sofa have been carefully set up inside. There's also a new bedside table with a vase of freshly picked flowers inside. Aside from Prissy curled up on the sofa, she's alone. Looking over the table, she sees a pink stack of heart-shaped sticky notes. The one on top has a message instructing her to rest and drink the water that'd been left for her there. (...There's also a 'p.s. don't worry, your tits are fire' at the bottom, no doubt from Inez, and a fiery flush of embarrassment reddens her cheeks.) The faerie nearly passes out from the pain as she forces herself to sit up against her pillows. Still a touch drunk, she takes the notepad into her hands and starts scribbling on them. The change of scenery is an improvement... but she needs to see Juno. Or hear from her. Or something. Or she's going to lose it. If she hasn't already. They're all I have left, Phillip. My tiddies. Oh, stars. She's a certified mess.

'Do you still hate me?' Lettie stares at the note she's written long and hard. Then she crumbles it up and starts another. 'Are you still angry with me?' Is that one any better? She thinks about it and crumbles it up as well, tossing it across the room. 'I'm sorry, Juno.' Anger resurges in her chest with that one. While there are things she wants to apologize for, she's not in the right frame of mind to do so yet. Not when Juno can't be bothered to face her. When she cools down, she tries a playful approach instead. 'I'm a real flightless wonder now, aren't I?' Will that break the ice, though? Or is it just... sad? She crumbles this one up, too. 'Flightless blunder.' She tears that one in half. Before this can turn into a pity party, she writes another. 'Can we talk? Please? I can't stand this.' Tears dot this note and she crumbles it, too. Can they talk? How? She doesn't even know what to say anymore. There's so little she can say to explain her side of this fucked up story. She sniffles, shaking her blanket and scattering all the unsent notes to the floor. Then she glares and tries another. 'I'd tell you everything if--'

Lettie's wrist ignites and tightens, there's a sickening snap and she screams out. The world plummets into darkness again.

In a haze Lettie assumes is induced by an increased dosage of pain meds, the faerie flits in and out of consciousness. Her broken wrist is all wrapped up in bandages now, covering her scar and zeroes. The skeletons mercifully let her stay in her own room despite this development, taking the needed supplies from the infirmary and setting them up there. Taking care of her mental health, too, because obviously she's struggling in the early days. She squints, swearing that she's catching the first glimpse she's gotten of Juno in the doorway... but she's not nearly with it enough to talk to her. (Maybe it's just her imagination?) "Juno...?" The faerie blinks and the pirate is gone, as if the sound of her voice had scared her off... or as if she had never even been there at all.

When Lettie starts recovering again, she grows more and more embarrassed of her breakdown and apologizes profusely to the crew. Especially as they start bringing her gifts to help lift her spirits back up. A rack of new clothes, champagne candles, magazines, a box of supplies for a spa day, the gym mirror. While she's still recovering from her injuries, they engage in their relaxing spa day first. Then she lets Inez do her make-up while her wrist heals. She experiments with a range of different hair and eye colors, stubbornly refusing to go natural again when she's already feeling so low. The only way she can build herself back up is by looking like a version of herself that she recognizes in the mirror. (White hair, white eyes... she's been feeling transparent and invisible. Like a heartbroken ghost. Waiting around for Juno's acknowledgement and never getting it.) So she's been trying out pink and blue ombre, a half black and half purple look, pastel rainbow. She goes extra magical with her hair and eyes to make up for the loss of her...

Lettie looks at herself in the mirror, considering a dramatic haircut. Something that might help her change the way she feels about herself. Maybe a fluffy and light style, just above shoulder length? ...But if she goes for backless outfits, her fresh scars are going to show. Ultimately, she decides against it. She's not prepared to part with anything else right now and cutting her hair shouldn't be an impulsive choice after she's already lost so much. For now, she settles for glamouring it a light pink with some slightly darker, sparkly pink streaks. Her favorite color with a little extra flair. That's the best she can manage. Her glamours are intensifying, sure. But that doesn't mean... I'm not a fake bitch. Fact remains that she went over and beyond to prove herself. The scars are a reminder of that. Juno doesn't really owe her anything in return... but if she won't even acknowledge it, then Lettie will have to do it herself.

The faerie starts eating properly again and she can see the skeletons visibly relaxing with their relief. They start acting more like themselves as she does. (...Even if she feels like she's had to muster herculean strength to hold 'herself' up some days. Happiness is a choice, she supposes, an effort she makes every day to keep their morale high.) When Lettie regains enough of her strength to get out of bed, she starts sinking her time into organizing skeleton fashion shows and band practices. The crew still parties like the crew for the most part... but occasionally she still catches them acting tense. It creeps in the back of the faerie's mind as she walks Lady's halls that she's yet to run into Juno even once. While she's trying to hold her smiles intact, to liven the mood for everyone's sake, it's even more apparent now that she's off bed rest that the captain doesn't go anywhere these days. (She was reluctant to start physical therapy for her wrist in the gym with the Medic, thinking she might run into Juno there... but it turns out there was nothing to worry about. Except for the fact that there is. Where is she?) She doesn't turn up in the kitchen, either. After another week passes, she considers that she could have disappeared and left them a long ago. This thought is quickly debunked as she recalls the stream of connection between them and searches for it, sensing her presence there. But it still makes the faerie uncomfortable enough that she finally endures the awkwardness it takes to bring it up.

"...Have any of you guys been talking to Juno? Like... what has she been up to lately?" Lettie examines her freshly painted nails as they settle down on the couch for a goss sesh, trying and failing to act casual. "Besides avoiding me, I mean."

 

[starboob]

Well, what has their captain been up to?

The skeletons all look between themselves and give a collective shrug in response. After a long pause, however, Abigail shares her suspicion. “She is having lots of pillow fights.” The skeleton nods decisively and dumps a blue bottle of nail polish over her head, smearing it haphazardly all over herself with her hands. “Lots and lots of pillow fights. I think she is having sleepovers withouts us.”

When Juno had learned that Lettie had awoken, the news might as well have been a fly buzzing in her ear with the way she waved it off and snapped at Marjorie. ”Fuck off.” But the truth was that the news brought panic and more electricity to her efforts, recognizing that she was running out of time before the faerie would eventually be healed. That she would eventually begin that future that won't be on Avangeline and won't be on Lady. That she would leave and never know the depths of Juno's remorse.

Ropes have since formed in her back from hunching over all day over her schematics, her research, her bones and blood. Each failed experiment, a pile of ash on the study floor and the floor is now covered in ash.

In desperation, she tries to ask the Maestro for help but the cube is a fucking useless box. “This is beneath my concern. Miss Lettie functions well enough without wings.” Juno tries to insist and even asks if there’s a world with faeries— not Avangeline– where they can maybe get some help. The Maestro confirms that there is such a world, but that contact with the world is contentious and will not be considered. Juno begs. The Maestro blips away as if the health and morale of its little serfs isn’t actually a major fucking concern. Juno flips off the spot it had been and redoubles her efforts, understanding that she’s going to have to do this alone.

But nothing she creates is beautiful enough for Olette. Nothing she creates is even fucking functional. It doesn’t matter what materials she requests from the Maestro— birds, bees, bats— none of them provide her with an answer. The Maestro suggests this might be because Lettie’s wings cannot be grown back with necromancy. Juno tries harder. She dips into spirit magic and nearly turns herself gray in the process. This doesn’t stop her. Nothing really does. Not the urges to sleep, eat, or drink. The only thing that stops her is her body giving out either from some combination of exhaustion and neglect or pushing herself too far with her spells.

Marjorie reassures Lettie that the captain is still alive and that she only found her past out in a small pool of her own blood this morning, which is, “A marked improvement from the last few times.” She reports this like she’s whooping over the first flower after a long winter, but even then skeleton antics cannot hide her worry.

Juno starts to lose weight, hollowing out around her cheeks and eyes, but she doesn’t seem to notice. If she does, she doesn’t do anything to address it. Work is the only thing that occupies the necromancer’s mind. Work and fixing what she ruined. It’s usually enough to drive off her thoughts, keeping her mind empty and free, but when she strains to keep her eyes open, to stand up, to mold bone and blood and flesh, her thoughts turn to Olette. Each memory of her is a razor blade against her skin. When she looks down at her hands, she sees fucking faerie blood on them. (Sometimes, when her mind goes fully rotten, she’ll hear an imagined Lettie’s scathing remarks. ‘Useless fucking pirate.’ ‘Is that it? No wonder your mom sold you.’ 'I'm surprised Eliza let you stick around for so long.')

News of Lettie’s broken wrist reached Juno mere seconds after the discovery was made, Marjorie rushing in to inform her of this development. The necromancer must have been in a better mood, because she didn’t outright shun the skeleton that time. In fact, she even paused her work to look up. “Whose fault is it?” When the skeleton shrugged in return, Juno dipped her head back over the bone pieces and ancient tome she acquired from the Magician. (It’s not that she didn’t care. She did. She does. She so wholly does, but she could not bring herself to face Olette.) Marjorie sighed and left.

Late that same evening, she had visited Lettie, but she had timed it poorly with the faerie’s rousing and left before she could build the courage to talk to her. Lettie called her name and all she heard was, ‘Captain creepazoid.’

Lettie doesn’t want to talk to her anyway. Probably never wants to see her fucking gnarled face ever again and Juno doesn’t and can’t fucking blame her. It’s her fault. Her fault. She only did what she did because Juno fucking wavered and Olette’s always been true.

Or has she?

That question comes up often still, usually after another experiment blows up or turns to ash in her face; when the answer, the solution, slips through her fingers before she can even feel the end of the tether. It comes after she’s finished biting down on her knuckles to keep from cursing or destroying her study (again), that it comes up. When she wants to quit and wants a reason for it. A solid one beyond that she’s exhausted. That she’s too weak, too stupid, too insipid to get Lettie her wings back. So her mind wanders back to all the ways she’s kept herself a secret and made Juno feel like she knew her. How she really almost did try to sell her morals to the corporation.

But then she quickly remembers the pink smoke, the black out, the red drowning white, the screams. It comes in flashes, but she remembers it well. Lettie kept herself a secret, but she kept her promises. Juno is just the opposite. She’s trying to make it right. She will make it right.

This new resurgence of resolve will usually have the necromancer springing to her feet once again, wiping the blood off her hand, and writing down everything that went wrong with the failed experiment.

Only once does she experiment with one of the vials Ravan left her with. She uses only a single drop and it goes disastrously. Juno doesn’t even know what happens, only that she wakes up to the Medic hovering over her, shining a light in her eyes. This cube informs her that she nearly burned her corneas straight through and suggests she stop exerting herself so much before she loses an eye, a hand, a leg. Juno disregards the advice, fervent in her belief that she almost figured it out. She begins flipping through the Magician's tomes once more, scribbling down notes so fast she might start a fire.

Inez cheerily mentions that her days as a mad scientist also once led her to chanting in dead languages. Abigail adds that she finds the chants so lovely she almost fell asleep outside of the study, except that the explosion totally ruined the mood.

In all honesty, Juno doesn’t know how much time has passed since she locked herself in her study. It doesn’t seem to concern her, much like everything and anything else. Nothing to her matters, just her goal and she'll bleed herself dry to claim it.

Lettie visits her in phantoms and flight dreams, taunting her efforts. ‘You’re so stupid, Juju. You’re so weak.’ 'I can't believe I'm stuck with you.' This pushes the necromancer’s desperation to dark corners. When she finally accepts that her necromancy is limited, she seeks out alternative answers, pushing the magic in her veins beyond what she knew capable. She comes to understand the spirit of fire and earth as she reaches into the depths of the worlds for her answer. She puts in every ounce of herself into her research until she’s worn to the bone, blood sweat soaking her collapsed figure.

The ship rattles violently one afternoon and the Maestro blips into band practice a second after the shaking ceases. “Do you know why Captain Juno has requested five blue oxen? And salt?”

A deafening quack echoes over the intercom system as it always does when the mood on the ship gets too tense for too long. The Maestro shrugs (i.e., lifts up two opposing panels) and hands Olette a scrap piece of paper covered in black scribbles. “I am hesitant to grant such a request. Can you decipher what this note says? I believe it might help us glean whatever it is she’s been up to.”

 

[ellarose]

Lettie is embracing her pastels and sparkles more than ever before but her music's been getting angrier. (And a bit nonsensical. The 'Burnt Toast' song is a particular standout. 'You burnt my heart like it was toast, threw me out 'cause I'm too crispy. Now I'm feeling like a ghost, a burnt toast ghost.' Behind her, the skeletons chorus with 'Oh, toasty toasty.' That line in particular was Abigail's idea, excitedly claiming that she got it from a witch while off on a 'super secret mission'.) Music is the only method she's had to vent lately. She loves the skellies, of course, but they've always been loyal to Juno first and foremost. She'll always come second. She can't help wondering if they knew the plan to leave her behind before she did... which makes talking to them about what happened awkward beyond measure. Besides, they've been so worried about Juno lately that giving them reason to worry about her on top of that would be overkill. Keeping them occupied is just as important as keeping herself occupied these days. And... is she worried?

No... Yes? It's complicated. It's just that Juno should know her own limits by now. And she should know, after all this time together, how the faerie feels when she exerts herself. She shouldn't need Lettie to come in and remind her of that. 'Whoever you are here, on Avangeline, I’m inclined to believe that is who is real and she’s fuckin’ fake.' Except maybe she hasn't changed her stance and still doubts the credibility of their past. All of the genuine passion she put into convincing the stubborn pirate to rest was written off as fake. Over time, caring for Juno became as natural for her as breathing. But now it feels like she's the only one who still cares... and that her cares have been completely dismissed and invalidated. There's so much unnoticed compassion in her heart that isn't reaching Juno. Now every breath she takes cuts through her like a razor blade.

Lettie knows she's in deep because there's nothing she wouldn't do for her. (...That's kind of what's scaring her. If that wasn't enough-- if she has to prove herself again and again-- it might just be the death of her.) Her wounds are still fresh. She's too hurt to reach out only to get pushed away again. The ledge she'd fall from as a result is high enough to kill her. She doesn't have wings to fly with anymore, doesn't have anyone around to catch her either.

It should be on Juno to make the first move, even if she intends to tell her to get lost forever. Still. Lettie's been getting the creeping fear that her childish desire to be approached first will result in Juno working herself to death before that ever happens. Not that she has any idea what she's been trying to accomplish. A faerie banishing spell? After all, the cube constantly smashed her into Juno like magnets back in the early days when she was doing everything in her power escape. She also heard a rumor circulating that Juno asked-- begged-- the cube to take them to a world for faeries. A request that wasn't granted, obviously. Why else would she make such a request if not to find a proper place to drop the resident faerie off? Maybe she doesn't hate her enough to wish her dead... but things between them have become complicated enough for her to want her gone.

Lettie tells the skeletons to take a break and sits in the corner with her notebook, flipping noisily through the pages until she finds an empty one. She starts to write the title, 'Fake Bitch', across the top. But the words appear to her like nonsensical symbols as they flow from her pink-puff pen. The faerie blinks hard and squints as if that might solve the issue. She swears she wrote them correctly. Lady shakes and she tosses the notebook away, holding the walls next to her to steady herself. (The quake flashes her back to the machine, the bomberfly, the arms around her waist pulling her back...) Then the quack blasts from the intercom, reminding her of the present, and she takes a moment to calm her breathing. 'You're not on Avangeline anymore.' Her back is pressed to the wall, aching. It feels weird for her back to touch against anything these days, without her wings there. It's... too flat. Too smooth. 'You survived.'

Then the cube shows up with their concerns. "Obviously not. I don't know why she does anything these days." Lettie scoffs and makes a show of rolling her eyes. "Guess she'd rather hang with five blue oxen than me." The faerie puffs her cheeks and examines her freshly painted nails. Okay, yeah, she knows that's not it. But the cube should understand by now that she hasn't been in the know about anything when it comes to Juno. Why throw salt on her wounds by insinuating that she is? "But whatever she's doing in there, you're perpetuating it by granting her requests. Maybe you should stop." If anything, it'd at least force her to come out on her own.

Technically Lettie has ways that she could sneak into the study if she really wanted to. Such as turning herself small and sliding through the crack under the door... or she could glitch through. (However, both options would irritate the gashes on her back. They're deep and long and are still going to take a while to heal properly.) Despite her irritated front, the lingering concern persuades her to take the note into her hands. Aaaand it doesn't make any sense. "...Stars. Juju's handwriting is atrocious." She shakes her head. "Marjorie might be able to decode it."

They find Marjorie. But even the skeleton has little luck with reading what the note says. She scratches the top of her skull and shrugs. "I'm sorry, Miss Lettie. This one is particularly..." She tilts her head, troubled, and shrugs again. "Maybe she wrote it in a rush?"

Lady shakes again... and it shakes a fairly recent memory into Lettie's mind. Her own handwriting had been difficult to read earlier, too. Biting her lip, she summons her magic circle and pulls her goggles out. Pressing them over her eyes, she looks over the note again. It looks a smidgen clearer... but not so clear that she can read it herself. Huh. She hands the goggles to Marjorie and the skeleton is then able to read the note to them. 'Get Prissy more treats.'

"Hot diggity dog! These goggles are truly incredible, Miss Lettie!" Marjorie praises her as she hands them back. Urgently, Lettie snatches the goggles and rushes back to the band's practice room. She has to test something. The faerie grabs her notebook and frantically flips through they pages. They're all scrambled and nonsensical-- every single page. Even the ones she'd been able to read before. Then she flips the goggles down over her eyes, watching with awe as the letters reform themselves into their original state. Wait a second...

Lettie's done enough research on nightmares and dreams in general by now to understand what this means. It's impossible to read in dreams. They're just thoughts projected by the subconscious. Had the cube, herself and Marjorie not all been trying to figure it out at once she might have never realized. None of them could understand Juno's note because none of them possessed the memory of what it should've said. If the world is bending itself around dream-like logic, that can only mean one thing. The faerie tightens her goggles and runs to the upper decks.

"Cubey?" Lettie runs to the railing, clutching it tightly as she leans over to get a closer look at their surroundings. Her eyes widen as the ship jerks and sways. Lady is currently descending down into a purplish sea. It's stormy and turbulent, with dangerous shadows, whirlpools and tornados flickering across the otherwise barren landscape. Twenty cubes appear at her command. Using her goggles, the faerie is able to see which one is the real one right away. "...Why did you bring us here? We're not prepared for this shit!"

"Here? What do you--" The cube asks confusedly. Then their panels glow, a line of static rings out, and they make a noise similar to that of a gasp. "Gee willikers. It's a nightmare storm, Miss Olette."

"Gee willi--what? What the fuck?" Lettie furrows her brow confusedly, saying the catchphrase because someone has to.

"A nightmare storm. This world is in a severe state of distress. To such an extent that it became a vacuum and pulled us in by force. We tried to defend against it for as long as we could... but I suppose it has finally broken through." The cube explains itself clearly for once, perhaps for once truly sensing the level of shit bananas they're in right now. "Unfortunately, this is beyond our control. There is no going back now... if you perish we will have to find replacements."

"Shit. Shit." Lettie gulps worriedly, staring down at the nightmarish sea below them. Lady jerks and rocks as it makes contact, floating above the surface like a traditional pirate ship. She shakes her head rapidly, the cube's words and their gravity slowly sinking in. "...There's no fucking way Juno's rested enough for this."

That's when Lettie notices it. Beneath the water, there's the glow of a translucent heart surrounded by glowing purple veins. Nestled within, flickering brightly with distress, is a cube. As she realizes this, the wind becomes fiercer, whipping at them as if to force them away. But that's where they need to be, isn't it? If she doesn't waste time or magic on the illusions these worlds create, then it's possible she'll be equipped to handle this. (It's unusual that she comes into this knowing what's going on so early. A sign of the progress they've made, no doubt. They... they can still do this. Right?) But... the only problem is that she doesn't have Juno there at her side. And even if she was, she fears the pirate's not going to be totally with it.

"...Quick, anchor us here! Now. And someone get Juno. Tell her what's going on." Lettie shouts, loud enough to be heard by at least the cube. (And hopefully a few members of the crew.) Either way, she can't afford to take any chances right now. If they lose sight of this world's cube now, they might never find it again. They'll get swallowed up by the nightmares. (This has nothing to do with avoiding a certain pirate.) "I'm... gonna go get it. Just so we don't lose track of it."

The faerie takes a deep breath before climbing up the railing and recklessly throwing herself down into the sea. It is easier to swim without wings, at least, and she traverses the water faster than ever as she swims down, down, down towards the heart. The cube. The journey is long, though, and her destination so deep that her vision starts to fade out at the edges as she reaches the bottom. Or that might just be the water itself, deepening from purple to black. Shooting stars begin to flicker by, as if she's floating through a night sky instead of a sea. (Fuck. She can't hold her breath for much longer.) Lettie's breath escapes in a burst of bubbles (which pop and become stars) and she quickly presses her hands over her nose and mouth. Not yet! Ugh. She strains herself, pumping her arms and legs harder as she swims deeper yet. Then finally, finally, she slips inside of the translucent heart, breathing out a sigh of relief. Within it, there is indeed air to breathe. Thank goodness. Softly, she glides down as if guided by invisible hands that set her gently upon the bed of sand. (Or is it moon dust? It feels like she's sitting on a barren planet now, surrounded by an expanse of space.) She coughs, catches her breath, and then makes her way towards the flickering cube. She reaches towards it.

The purple veins floating around the heart descend from above, winding around her and snatching her up before she can touch it. The cube beams, blindingly bright, and--

***​

Another quack sounds over the intercom.

"Juju! Wake up you lazy bones." A tiny (tinier) faerie pokes the side of Juno's head. This Lettie is just a kid, with her wings still intact and flowers adorned in her blonde hair. It's as if she escaped the photograph that Juno had slipped into her pocket on her their visit to Avangeline. (And maybe she has.) She quiets her voice to a frightened whisper. "Beatrix sent word. The geese are coming. She sent a whole army of them." She pouts worriedly and sits on the pirate's chest, reaching for her eyelids as if to pry them open by force. "...Don't you remember? You said you'd punch the long-necked chickens for me. Or are you gonna break your promise?"

"Mow." Prissy walks over, pressing her nose against Juno's ear. Like Lettie, she's smaller in size. Her horn hasn't fully grown yet and she's just a kitten.

"...Prissy would if she could. I think. But she has paws, not fists." Lettie considers, tilting her head to the side. "Not like you, Juno. You have the best fists so it has to be you."

 

[starboob]

Juno lies crumpled on her side, fingers twitching from the shock of her last explosive failure. Her breathing is shallow and labored; she’s too exhausted to even be frustrated with her latest effort. She just stares blankly at the pile of ash in front of her. The quack sounds over the intercom and she knows she’s lost it, officially.

She groans and flips onto her back, burrowing the heels of her palms into her eyes to try and rub away some of her tiredness. It works. For about a second, then the exhaustion comes rushing back in full force, trying to drag her stubborn eyelids down. She grinds down on her jaw in silent refusal, but even her stubbornness has its limits and they droop, then fall. A small nap won’t kill her progress. (Not that she’s even far from where she started. It honestly feels as though she’s taken more backwards steps than forward, the finish line becoming less clear by the day.)

It must be a thousand years when the pirate next stirs (it’s been exactly one minute and thirty-seven seconds). However, she’s not stirring because she’s done sleeping, she’s stirring because someone is calling her. The voice is familiar, but off. Something about it has changed and she doesn’t know how or why. She grunts softly when the person sits herself up on her chest, still too weak to open her own eyes even if she can feel those tiny hands trying to physically claim her attention. It’s when the tiny voice mentions her promise that her eyes snap open.

The tiny Lettie that had been on her chest disappears in a puff of smoke, along with the tiny Prissy at her ear, her mind latching onto the concept of promise and everything she’s been working towards. Her study shifts just slightly, showing empty chains hanging from the ceiling and a pool of blood beneath them. This sight doesn’t startle her. (She’s beyond being startled by it. It shows up too frequently behind her eyelids for her to be surprised.) “I’d never fuckin’ forget my promise.” She whispers this to herself, staring at all her failures piled on the ground. The most recent one still smokes, the thin bones she’d crafted looking as though burrs have grown all over it. She kicks it over. It falls to ash.

No, she hadn’t been close that time or the time before that. She can admit this. The proof is all around her. Her hands and arms bear the fresh scars of each failure; her heart bears the bruises. “I need to do this,” she mutters to herself, something she’s been doing more often lately, having gotten used to having company and having none of it now because… She squeezes her eyes shut before an ounce of feeling can rise to the surface and drown her. She cannot lose another day to tears. She’s running out of time and she can feel it. Olette’s going to be well enough to leave any day now.

The pirate runs her hands down her face and catches a glimpse of her skeleton appearance in the reflection of the window. She lifts a brow and turns to face the glass which gleams and turns into a mirrored surface, showing the pirate as she is— a gray skeleton, dressed in black, with a mess of unkempt hair. It’s been a while since she’s looked at her reflection, and seeing a skeleton staring back at her doesn’t exactly surprise her. (This is how she’s felt.) She runs bony digits through her hair, notices that the white streak has become a full white patch and the hairs around it have changed from inky black to a dark charcoal gray. That’s more surprising, but she supposes she has been working herself hard, delving into magics she thought impossible before.

She needs to work herself harder.

She reaches towards the ash piles, swirling her wrist and drawing up the ash from the floor. It gathers around her skeletal hand, allowing her to revitalize it and mold it into something new. (Figuring out this trick excited her as much as it frustrated her, recalling all the ash she’s swept away instead of repurposed. She almost ran through Lady to show Olette, but stopped herself before she could even move three steps to the door. The Lettie in her mind laughed at her.)

“Juno?” A familiar voice comes from the entrance of the study. “You don’t need to work yourself to the bone for this.”

“Easy for you to say, Terra.” Juno rolls her eyes, rematerializing as an approximation of herself. Like this, she appears more gangly and gaunt than the stupidly buff pirate she typically is. Though not skeleton thin, her clothes hang looser on her body. Her hands appear more spindly, less strong and firm than before. The ash around her hand reforms into a flashlight, her other hand now grasping a thick roll of parchment. “You don’t know hard work.”

She rolls her eyes. “You grounders are all so intense.”

“You shits behind the wall made sure of that.”

“I know.” Terra responds a little too quickly, defensive and maybe hurt that Juno criticizes her so harshly. So openly. “Look, sorry. I don’t get it, but you really don’t need to do all of this. A promise shouldn’t kill you.”

Juno chuckles dryly. “You don’t fucking understand, Olette.”

“What?” Terra’s form flickers and shivers into an image of the faerie, soaked in her blood. Her features shift from confusion to vengeful. A goddess of revenge, really. Juno’s mind completes this comparison by dressing this figment of Olette up in dark armor, giving her a bloody baseball bat wrapped with barbed wire to clutch. “I don’t give a shit what you do, Juno. Why don’t you understand that?”

Another quack sounds over the intercom, hiding the sound of the crack within the pirate’s chest. Olette changes again. The blood cleans itself up, the armor melts away. She shrinks. Her wings grow back like flowers. Her hair flutters and fans with an unfelt ripple of wind, turning it blonde. She runs up to Juno and hugs her calf. “Juju! You promised. The long-necked chickens are coming.” She presses her nose into her leg to hide herself, to shield herself.

Juno blinks, looking around at her surroundings and back at little Lettie. “What…”

The quack sounds off louder, closer. Lettie squeaks, blinking away tears, and grips Juno’s leg tighter. Juno pats her head reassuringly. She doesn’t want to lose focus or get distracted, but… ‘She’s so tiny and scared.’ She sighs. ‘Okay.’ She lifts up her fists and nods in agreement. (Her fists feel so fucking heavy.) The tiny (tinier) Lettie beams and flies up to Juno’s eye level. Something about the sight breaks her heart, though she can’t exactly place why. She looks away instead. “Where do you think they are?”

She shrugs, scrunching her face up. “I’m just a kid.”

Juno purses her lips and nods at this assessment. She is indeed a child. The pirate sighs and leads them through the ship, quietly turning corners and kicking open doors to find this alleged long-necked chicken infestation. At the last possible door, Juno scratches her head. Lettie’s room. Of course Lettie is right next to her and she’s not protesting against the pirate going into her room. She’s clutching onto Juno’s shoulder and hiding behind her. “Go get them, Juju.” She whispers encouragingly, though her voice quivers and shakes and she can feel her fists trembling against the fabric of her shirt. Juno nods, reaches for the door, and—

A goose flies out, menacing, and honking its sonic honk, blasting Juno and Lettie backwards. Somehow, Juno has enough awareness to grab the faerie and protect her from impact by hugging her close to her body and taking the hit. She’s able to brace herself slightly with her legs, preventing her from falling and quickly propels herself forward, letting go of Lettie, to tackle the goose.

Juno and the goose tumble through Lady’s halls, each roll changing the scenery around them— from the pits, to a dank prison, the duchess’s mansion, Gran’s backyard, to her last hideout with Eliza. Juno ends up on top and smashes her fist against the bird’s beak. She grabs the long neck and whips the goose violently, feeling the vertebrae snap as they come undone.

“Gee willikers, you sure are strong.”

The pirate wipes her nose with the back of her hand, ready to return to her study when the flap of wings and a honk comes from behind. Little Lettie points with shock and horror, unable to speak, and Juno whips around just as quick. Her fist quickly makes impact with the goose face and it collapses to the ground, dead. Then another comes from her side. From behind. From above. They’re coming in from everywhere!

“What the—” Why geese? Ugh, she can’t be thinking about that right now. She throws her body over Lettie’s to protect her once again, waving her arm over them as she casts a protective ward against the geese using the goose blood already on her fists. Her nose starts to get runny in an all too familiar way. She sniffles it up, but cannot ignore the dizzying effect of her exertion. ‘Shit.’ She closes her eyes and tries to regain herself as the geese army knock all around the ward and burn themselves in the process. The ward will hold, there’s no concern there, but she doesn’t know for how long they’re going to be onslaught by fucking geese. (Why geese?) “Why the fuck are there so many?”

“Are you complaining?” The duchess tilts her head from beneath Juno, the ward dropping, geese disappearing, and the setting changing to an all too familiar bedroom. “What about your promises? I want the oubliette cleared before you leave tomorrow. I don’t care how you get rid of them. Get creative if you’re afraid of going mind-numb.” The duchess pushes the pirate off of her and stretches her long limbs, sweeping her legs over the bed to rise. “Don’t forget about your promises.”

Promises. Promises.

Juno’s face screws in confusion as she looks around this bedroom, feeling all sorts of wrong about being here. This confusion doesn’t fade when Eliza bursts through the room, eye shiny and swollen shut along with a split lip. Juno winces seeing her. Her eyes flame around the room and lock onto Juno. “Kid, you fuckin’ bailed when I needed you. The fuck happened to your promises?”

Little Lettie appears again, flying over to Juno. “Juju, the geese!! You promised.”

“Juno, relax. It’s just a promise.” Terra strides in next, taking a seat at the edge of the bed.

“It’s not surprising her promises always end up broken like glass.” This comes from the vampiric duchess, smirking to show her fangs. She pulls a hand from behind her back and dangles two iridescent faerie wings. “You certainly have a talent for disappointment.” The wings flutter from the duchess’s hand, sharpen themselves to razors, and fly straight towards the pirate—!

 

[ellarose]

Lettie-- or some figment of her-- falls into the scene from above like a shooting star, dive bombing the Duchess. Rising with a graceful flourish, she holds up a hand to halt the wings turned razor blades in midair. And, as if she's a deity controlling her elements, they pause at her command. They flicker away and then reappear, blooming outward from the gashes on her back. The faerie smiles fondly at the sensation, fluttering them once, twice... before they dissolve to ashes. (She can do whatever she wants because it's not real. None of it is. They're just memories. Even the good things. Just memories.) One by one, the figures in gathered in the room dissolve as well... until everything dissolves but Lettie and Juno. Nothing but an endless landscape of gray television static surrounds the both of them. Buuuuuzz. She swallows hard, unable to meet Juno's eyes. She's standing right there. She needs to work with her but she's not ready for this. Her desire to be invisible turns her invisible, blipping her away and leaving Juno in the static sea. There's a click, like a television changing channels, and faded images pass by, shuffling through memories. The world goes dark, leaving only the illumination from the screen of a small CRT tv.

"And on tonight's show, we're going to be discussing the question that's been on everyone's mind..." The announcer, dressed in a stylish suit, has a distorted face. Neon blocks glitch over the edges of his shoulders. He sounds entirely too thrilled to be reading this bleak headline. "Where is Titania? What happened to her?" The screen flickers, showing footage of a trashed apartment. "Shortly after her disappearance was reported, officials searched her place and found..." There's a flash. A baseball bat with nails on the floor. Graffiti of the word 'why?' on written on the wall. Smashed champagne bottles. Overturned furniture. Jewelry boxes emptied. The reporter whistles, as if the imagery speaks for itself. "Now, viewer discretion is advised. They might find our next segment shocking--"

Buuuuzz. Static wipes out the television set and the darkness. A faded memory appears-- but it gradually becomes clearer and sharper-- overpowering the static like the sun through clouds.

"I think I deserve some transparency. An explanation." Lettie's fists are tight at her sides. Pink hair, dark clothes, she's a teenager. The make-up smudges around her eyes indicate that she'd been crying. "...Stars. I can't believe this is what convinced you to visit me. First time in what? Five years? Because you wanted your stupid fucking necklace back!?" An internal struggle twists her expression before she works past the pain and settles on a sharp smirk. "I threw it in the trash. Guess you'll have to dig for it."

"When you're older you'll understand. I would talk to you like an adult if you started acting like one, Lette. This 'teenage rebellion' phase..." Titania sits on the foot of her bed, twirling her hand around as if examining the situation like the color of some fine wine. Then she scrunches her nose, looking her daughter up and down with open contempt. "I refuse to reward your deviant behavior by giving you what you want. You'll grow out of it eventually... then we'll talk. Perhaps when you find it in your heart to return my necklace."

"...I seriously doubt I'm gonna live that long." Lettie scoffs, her voice dark. She closes a defensive hand over her bracelet.

"Olette, please don't be so dramatic." Titania presses a hand to her temple, squeezing her eyes shut. Then she gestures around the fancy estate room. "Look at this place. They take good care of you here. We'd be worse off if I hadn't taken the deal."

"The deal." Lettie repeats flatly, her eyes laser focused on her mother. The rage emanating off of her is cold rather than hot. "And what was the deal?"

"I already told you... I'm not discussing this with you." Titania waves her off like a fly. "You won't understand. You're still a child."

"Still a child? You don't even know what they do to us here. Do you?" Lettie barks out a humorless laugh, the sound choked and strained. "You don't know shit!"

Memories flash again. They're clearer this time from before. A small, tearful Lettie trying to pull back and escape as a complex glyph is traced into her arm, burning a ring of gold around her wrist. There are her attempts at escaping afterwards... and the way a long chain would always appear outward from her scar. With it, she's always reeled like a fish on a hook back into the hands of her hooded captors.

There's a fearful Lettie on the sidelines with other young faeries, watching the processions of faerie auctions. Faeries being dragged into a ring, either flourishing in the spotlight or reduced to dust in elaborate underground demon duels. (The illusionary magic swirls and sparkles like it's meant to be something beautiful. The crowds gasp with awe.) Much like Cerise turned to dust in Cressida's hands, however, many of these faeries perish from the excess. Only this is worse. This is all clearly structured for entertainment. It's senseless violence. Senseless death. There are other flickers of faeries lounging at different stations, much like the faeries they passed back on Avangeline, offering their praise and... other services. Then there's Asmodeus. The bastard with his sharp-toothed grin, lifting a stand of her hair with one of his spindly long fingers and whispering in her ear. "Many of us are eager for the day you come of age, Olette. That face of yours is going to make us lots and lots of money." Lettie pushes him away and the memory sets itself on fire. (It deserves to burn. He deserves to burn.) Then, at the end, Lina's anguished scream pierces through everything else, sounding exactly as it had the day she lost her sister.

"Shit. We're almost seventeen, Lettie." Now Lina and Lettie sit on a rooftop side by side next to a bright neon sign, their feet dangling over the edge. Snow drifts lazily around them.

"Shit." Lettie agrees, downcast. Her usual cheer is nowhere to be seen and she's rubbing the scar on her wrist distractedly.

"Let's promise to fight like hell before that day comes. Okay?" Lina smiles, nudging her side. She falters, a bit at a loss when Lettie doesn't brighten up in response... and then she perks up, as if remembering something, and reaches in the pocket of her jacket. "Oh, and... here. Close your eyes and hold out your hand." Lettie shoots the other faerie a scrunched up, questioning look. Lina giggles and shakes her head. "Just do it." Lettie sighs and does as she's told, melted by the sound of her laugh, and the other faerie proceeds to set a small box in her hand. "Happy birthday. I know it's bittersweet... but you can't let those bastards ruin your birthday, Lettie. 'Cause I'm happy you're here."

Lettie blushes and clicks the box open. There's a familiar bracelet sitting on the pink velvet inside. She traces the edges gently before taking it out, giving it a closer look. "It's like yours..."

"Yeah! Now we match." Lina clicks her own bracelet off, showing her the inside. There's a pink heart engraved there. Lettie does the same, finding a blue heart on the inside of her own. "Okay, I know it's kinda cheesy. Really cheesy. Mine's pink 'cause that's your favorite color. And yours..."

"It's blue. Naturally." Lettie nods. She snaps her bracelet on snugly, effectively covering up her scar, and holds her arm up to admire it. "There. All gone. Heh... If only it were that easy, right?" She finally manages a smile. "I love it, Lina. I'm never taking it off."

"Well, don't gush about how wholly awesome I am just yet, 'cause there's a part two to your gift this year. I've been doing some research." Lina admits, fiddling with her own bracelet. "Searching the underground for demons powerful enough to break our contracts with the estate. And through that I've started hearing these conspiracies about these wish-granting nymphs hidden deep in the Forbidden Forest. What if they're true? Like if we embark on a quest, or solve some riddle, maybe..." Lettie frowns, unsure. "I think I might actually have a lead. But I'll need your help. Are you in?"

"It sounds impossible." Lettie admits, gazing at the skyline. "...But I want to try. I don't wanna die quietly."

There's the sharp sound of static as it overtakes Lina's form. Then she's gone, leaving Lettie on her own. "Lina... don't leave me behind. I need you. I found the--" The rest of her sentence is bleeped out, completely censored and unintelligible before flatlining. A golden noose appears around her neck and chokes her slowly. Then her bracelet and wings both get overtaken with static and disappear as well.

The noose disappears from Lettie's neck as she changes from her teenage self to her present self. White dress, white hair and eyes. Lethargically, she traces a glyph to glamour away the bruises around her neck and practices her smile in the mirror. Then Juno appears inside of it.

"Hope your glamours can hide the blood on your fuckin’ hands, Olette. Lettie. Whoever the fuck you are."

Then the scene changes itself from the rooftop to the hotel elevator, descending rapidly past their memories. Flaming roses fall. Bloodied, faerie handprints are appearing on the glass with a steady 'thump, thump, thump' like a heartbeat. Blood begins to seep down the sides, filling the elevator and flowing freely from the gashes in her back. A figment of Juno storms out of the elevator, leaving Lettie inside as the blood rises to her waist. "Juno, wait. I need you. If you leave me here I'm going to--" The censor muffles out the rest of the sentence before flatlining it. "I--" She tries again, but the same thing happens. Frustratedly, she tries one last time. "It's no use. If I tell you, it's going to ▚▙▙ me."

The noose appears around Lettie's neck again... though this time instead of choking her, it snaps her neck at a dramatic angle. A giant wing falls, crushing the elevator and the faerie inside of it before static eats the scene up entirely. Buuuzz.

Wings continue to fall from the sky as the real and invisible Lettie is blown back far away from Juno, as if caught in some vicious wind. (...It's too much. She pushed herself too far and now the nightmare has gotten out of hand. But I need her to know everything.) She tries to fight it, attempting to grow back her wings, as if that might help her escape. But as they grow, they wilt away like dying flower petals. It hurts.

Eventually the wings falling around Juno build up what looks like an underground city... some kind of amalgam of Avangeline and Desdemonia.

"...Hey kid. You need a wish granted?" A shady, hooded character addresses Juno from an alleyway. "You sure look like you could use one." Though their face is hidden by shadows, their jagged-toothed grin is bone white. "Oh, but you should know that wishes don't come for cheap." They run their thumb along their other fingers to indicate cash. Lots and lots of it. "There's a price. Do you think you can pay it?"

"How much...?" Lettie's voice echoes distantly-- a memory responding to Crane's offer or perhaps asking the figure for more information.

"It all begins with something precious."

"What do you have for me? Have you changed your mind about the bracelet?" The nymph's voice echoes, this one from a memory Juno might find somewhat familiar.

"No. I brought you something better. It belonged to my mother. A piece that belonged to Titania Lycoris Radiata herself. That's going to hold a helluva lot more value than this bracelet." The necklace falls from the sky and lands in a heap at Juno's feet. Only it's not Titania's necklace, but the broken locket that she threw to the ground.

"Hmm. Bring it closer."

"No. I want to see the contract first. I need to see the contract." The memory skips and bounds ahead a few paces. "Wh-- But how am I supposed to..." She's choked up. "Is this the only way?"

"It's the only way." The hooded character confirms, looking at Juno. Their emerald eyes glow eerily beneath the hood as they snatch up her nearly skeletal hand. "How much are you willing to sacrifice?"

 

[starboob]

“Anything.” The answer isn’t even a thought before it exits her mouth, because she doesn’t need to think about it. Anything. That’s what she’d give to right this. To have a chance at righting this, at least. The hooded figure's grip on her hand tightens, with enough force that she swears they might crush her. She doesn’t struggle. If this is a test, she’ll endure it. A crushed hand is nothing in exchange for costing Lettie her wings. Doubting her.

She stares hard into those emerald eyes, bears their wicked grin as they squeeze and squeeze and—

The scene changes and, suddenly, Juno is standing over the hooded figure who is no longer a hooded figure. Instead, a man in supplication grips her hand, incoherent pleas and apologies falling from his split lips. Juno ignores him. She raises her free hand and beats it into the man’s skull, forcing him off of her hand. Eventually, the man in fine silks falls to the ground, out cold or maybe worse. (Juno left his body before threads of death could have enticed her.)

Immediately, she steps back to the duchess’s side, who sits at the end of the long table in her banquet hall, all filled with men and women of high stature judging by their clothing. Her smile is like a bloodied knife, yet it’s Juno’s fists that bear the scrapes and bruises. “Would anyone else like to force my hand? Or do you need another demonstration of what my attack dog will do to you?”

She reaches up to stroke Juno’s arm, but the touch goes unnoticed by the pirate, her eyes trained ahead, presumably watching the rest of the duchess’s suitors to see if others are daring enough to challenge her.

The world spins around her and she’s in the duchess’s bed again or, at least, a bed in the duchess’s mansion as the woman is rising and slipping on a robe to leave. Her hair is mussed and fresh bruises line down her neck, lower. Blood is smeared all over Juno now, but it’s not hers. Or the duchess’s. “I love what anything means to you. Most women have no respect for their own word, but you’ve always kept yours.” She giggles, grinning over her shoulder. “I think we’re going to shape Desdemonia together, Juno.”

A new scene rolls out. Juno is still at the duchess’s mansion but this Juno is soaked to the bone and desperation fills her stormy eyes. Outside a storm rages. Thunder shakes the stone walls of the mansion, causing the chandeliers to jingle. A dark, haunting mass beats itself against the window, trying to break in, but the wards around the mansion will keep the duchess and her guests safe from Desdemonia’s notorious nightmare storms.

This time, it’s Juno who is on her knees in supplication. She’s gripping the hem of her fine red skirts. “Please. Anything. I can’t fucking live like a hunted dog.”

“Anything?” Her brow arches and something wicked flashes in her eyes. Juno can see the cogs turning in her head. She gulps and the other woman seems to relish in her fear. They both know exactly where this could lead. They both know how Cassidy wants this to go, as she has asked this of Juno many times over. “I could finally get you in the arena for me with an offer like that.” She smirks when the pirate gives the slightest recoil, though Juno recovers quickly enough, steeling herself. “But that certainly would turn you into a hunted dog, wouldn’t it? Fear not. I’m no cruel mistress.” She amuses herself with her own lie, watching Juno’s expression carefully. It gives away nothing. “Here is my offer: You will be at my beck and call. You’ll heel. You’ll fetch. You’ll attack. You won’t complain. My commands are your gospel and if you trust in me, and this is all you have to do, then I can promise that you will be taken to new heights. Perhaps you can even earn a true name for yourself. Not just Juno, but perhaps something greater. Juno the Cruel, perhaps?” She muses tapping her chin. “I won’t work you to the bone, of course. I have few wants in this life, so you’re free to do as you please when you are not tasked. But know I am always your first priority. This is all I ask and, in exchange, I can keep those stewards off your tail.” She slices open her palm with her manicure, then presents her open palm to Juno. “Do you accept?”

Before Juno can accept the duchess’s protection, as she did all those years ago, the memory pauses itself around Juno. Two heels gently click against the floor behind her and when she turns, it’s the goddess of revenge. Olette. “Why is it, Juno, that you always bend over backwards for the people who are going to step on your spine and break it?” She tilts her head. Juno looks away, remembering the noose. (Remembering how she almost sentenced the faerie to death by trying to leave.)

“Remember James?” She asks. In front of Juno, a screen materializes and it depicts, again, the moment she whirled around and delivered the killing blow. (His chest may have been ripped open, but he was still alive, still had a second or so left in him. Juno could have done something. She wholly believes this.) “You told him you’d do anything to protect him, too. How’d that turn out?”

“And Eliza,” she chuckles dryly. The screen flips to a different channel, this one showing Juno and Eliza locked in a fight, tumbling through the room they had been sharing. Eliza throws Juno to the ground and tries to pin her in place, tries to wrap her arms around Juno, but the kid struggles, rolls on top, and pummels the other woman. The present Juno turns away from the screen, unable to bear it. “What happened to your loyalty there? Do you know how much shit she sacrificed to keep you alive? She would’ve done anything.”

The next time Lettie brings up a name, instead of a scene on a screen, melted steaming bones rain all around Juno. A jaw, part of a hand… Not even a full skeleton. “Terra was no saint, but she cared about you.” That one wasn’t even her fault. But she knew her family and how dangerous they could be and she left her there with them just like she almost did with—

“Olette?” In a blink, the room goes pitch dark save for the spotlight pointed at empty chains with a pool of blood beneath. When she steps back and blinks again, Lettie glitches into those chains, wings still attached, and a figment of Juno stands over her, grinning like a devil. She watches as the image of herself lifts a skeletal hand and crushes her right wing, then peels it from her back. The next is forcefully yanked and Lettie’s scream, like an arrow, sends the real Juno backwards, skidding across the glass covered floor. “What about Olette?” The figment speaks to her now. “You swore an entire oath to the goddess and even that could not hold your spine. Maybe…” She grins. “You’re just spineless, eh?”

The present Juno, the real Juno, scrambles to her feet, hot rage bleeding through her veins. Her shoulders rise and fall in their agitation before she rushes, tackles the image of herself and pins her to the ground. The dark Juno grins, wild, carefree. She doesn’t fight back against herself. “You were going to leave her. Don’t pretend you’re her savior now.” Juno cracks her knuckles against her jaw, but she still manages to talk. “C’mon, is that all you got?” Her grin is bloody and wild. “You deserve worse, so give it to us, runt!” At this new taunt, Juno screams— roars— and brings her fists down like hammers. One, two, three—

She pulverizes her face until her own image is lumpen and unrecognizable. Her chest heaves as sweat rolls down off her nose, feeling no more soothed than she had been a second ago. That didn’t do shit. Nothing she ever does works.

From her peripheries, she can still see those two detached wings and when she tries to reach for them, they turn to ash. Lettie appears to her again, dragging her chains across the now starry floor. Steam rolls off her body like she might burst into a star and burn Juno with her brilliance. “Anyone can punch a face. I didn’t even ask you to do that.” The golden noose appears around Lettie’s throat, the craze grows in her eyes despite the danger she’s in. “All you had to do was stay.”

“Le-Lettie—” An apology is ready on her lips, everything she’s been wanting to say and swallowing down like glass instead. But before the words can leap and dive off of her tongue, a hand claps on her shoulder and spins her around. It’s the hooded figure from earlier, glowing green eyes, scythe-like grin, and all. “What’ll it be, pirate? Words are water. Action is real. Solid. Valuable.”

Behind the hooded figure, Juno can see the ash swirling around Lettie like a desert twister. The ash starts to gather together to form into a monstrously sized skeleton with long cinnamon hair, bright blue sapphire eyes, and sharpened fangs. Muscle, sinew, blood, skin forms over the skeleton, but patches are missing or decayed making her appear more like a zombie than the duchess herself. This version of the duchess lifts Lettie up by her chains and dangles her over her open mouth.

“Olette!” Without hesitation, Juno shakes the figure from her shoulder and leaps, sending shockwaves through the ground, propelling herself impossibly high into the air just as the duchess drops Lettie into her throat, lined with jagged knives and white hot flames. Juno changes her trajectory in midair once she’s over the duchess’s mouth and angles herself to dive after Lettie, straight into that sharp, flaming unknown. Anything.

 

[ellarose]

The deeper they descend into the sharp, flaming unknown the darker it gets. The flames begin to wither and slither about like inky black vines. Eyeballs blink in the dark void between them like a thousand eerie stars and thousands of tiny faerie skeletons hang limply from the knives like ornaments. Gradually, the vines wrap around the skeletons and dissolve them into swirling magic dust-- a sight so beautiful and entrancing that it's grotesque. From their bodies flowers grow and spread, to the point that eventually they cover every inch of the abyss. (All too similar to the way plants cling to every surface in Avangeline, perhaps.) Their landing is soft thanks to the bed of flowers. And among them lies Lina's corpse. Lettie tries to crawls over to her, the heavy chains dragging behind and slowing her down. She's not going to reach her in time. She has to try.

...But it's already too late. Lina's body flickers away flake by flake, swept up like a brilliant diamond dust into the air, turning the mournful black flowers around her into a radioactive blue. Their centers grow mouthes with razor sharp teeth that laugh and gossip. "Faeries... ridiculous creatures if you ask me. Impish little minxes." No one asked them. "I don't understand why they're permitted to flit around Avangeline to begin with. They're little better than humans... the fae are hardly divine enough to live among us." Butterflies appear, swarming around as if trying to free Lettie from her chains. "Those fragile little wings. You ever feel tempted to just..." Claws emerge from the flowers, ripping the wings off the butterflies and creating a rain of their wings around her. Some of them snatch up the severed wings and stuff them in their razor sharp mouthes, feasting on them. "At least their essence is delicious." Laughter erupts. "I'll toast to that." A long banquet table appears, giant demons sitting all around it, Lettie is dragged down the table by her chains towards an especially giant, glitching monster made of shadows. Their eager breath blows hot air down the table towards her.

"No!" Lettie fights like hell to escape, clambering and clawing at the chains, at the table. Nothing works. She looks up with teary eyes and sees Juno-- or maybe just an image of her-- chained to one of the chairs among the giants. (Holding her back the same way the chains held her back while Lina was--) Her small nails hardly even leave scrapes on the giant table as she tries to escape her fate. When she realizes just how little of an impact she's making, she stops fighting it. She passes by a menu on the table. A menu covered in gibberish. 'Calm the fuck down.' She gradually steadies her breathing. 'This is getting out of hand. Don't let the nightmare control you.'

Lettie's life has been controlled enough as it is. In a world like this, at least she has the power to take it back. So she raises her fist and slams it down on the table. As tiny as she might be, she hits hard enough that all the wine glasses and silver-spooned finery shakes and shatters.

THUMP! The table collapses, falling flat as exploded glass cuts the gathered demons to shreds. Lettie opens her eyes to find herself collapsed in some kind of cell. Unlike her bedroom, this one much more resembles a cell... a lined box of blue moonlight on the floor illuminates her, streaming in through a barred window high above her head. Color is gradually returning to her sickly skin, breathing life back into her as she recharges under the stars. It doesn't improve her expression, though, her red-rimmed eyes looking blankly ahead. (Juno's there too, she can tell. But she still can't bring herself to look at her. Not when she's like this.) Footsteps click against the floors. The keys at the bars jangle and the barred cell door whines as it swings open. She doesn't react. Doesn't even flinch with Asmodeus walks in and lifts her up by a handful of hair. He's looking for fear in her face and she knows it. She's not giving it to him. Not giving him shit. Acting like everything is fine is better than showing her fears and giving him ammunition to use against her.

"...Have you learned your place yet?" Asmodeus asks, drawing one of his long fingers under her chin. "It doesn't have to end this way, Olette. If you play your part, you won't have to die like she did."

The scene shrinks into a screen inside of Lettie's other cell. Her bedroom in the estate where her mother sits on the bed, staring at it wide-eyed. For once she's not unflappable, her blue eyes red-rimmed as well. The screen vanishes. The fallen angel is weeping now-- but all of her daughter's tears have since dried up. "I didn't know. Had I known, I wouldn't have--" Her mother insists. "Please try to understand. We were going to lose everything. The house. All of our possessions. I was already struggling to get by on my own, Lette. You know that. That's why I tried to get you into the business..." Lettie's fists tighten at her sides. That didn't work. But that shouldn't have been on her as a kid. As a baby. "Then you set the Belladonna's house on fire. Your temper tantrums were getting out of hand."

"That wasn't a temper tantrum. It was self-defense! Beatrix threatened to kill me." Lettie challenges. (...A faeries anger is always belittled like this. Faeries are known for sparkling, prancing and playing tricks. Unlike angels and demons alike, who in comparison are fearsome in stature and can imperiously make worlds bow with their anger. An angry faerie can be swatted away... while entire armies must be summoned to oppose a wrathful angel or demon.) "You must've known that. But you didn't believe me because it was more convenient for you to pretend I was making it all up."

"Well, that was a part of the reason why I thought moving away might be good for you." Titania covers her mouth, as if she said something she shouldn't have. "The Belladonnas are an influential family... and Roland Belladonna has just asked me to marry him. Perhaps I can persuade him to--"

"I'm not part of your life anymore. I don't give a single fuck what you do or who you decide to marry." Lettie snaps. The anger in her tone indicates that somewhere she probably does care. Choosing the new, ideal family over the one she already has. And a rotten new daughter, too. Titania flinches but she keeps going. "Don't try to pretend that you did any of this for my sake. You were obviously being conned. Sold my soul to keep your fancy house and clothes."

"I thought I had a chance. Asmodeus said I could win everything back in that final round... and even if I lost, I could keep all the things I gambled away as long as they got you." Titania admits, staring at her hands. They're shaking. "It was risky, I know that. But he said that if he won you that they'd take care of you at the estate. Perhaps even better than I could all on my own. Either way... taking the gamble meant that you would still have a roof over your head. It was a sacrifice I had to make for your sake."

"Sacrifice...? You shouldn't have been out there gambling in the first place!" Lettie chokes out a strangled laugh that turns into a cry. "I loved you so much and you abandoned me. You didn't even visit. Not 'till I smashed all that shit you gave me away for."

"I-It was too painful for me, Lette. Knowing you were growing up far away from me, being raised and loved by other people! Better people. It would've broken my heart--" Titania shakes her head. "But I knew something was wrong when I found the mess you left. Your messages, the things you stole..." She shakes her head, tears falling. "Knowing what I know now, Lettie, I never would have done what I did. If I had any idea that the estate was this dangerous... I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Sorry doesn't do shit." Lettie scrubs at her own eyes, clearing the tears. Clearing her vision. Seeing it all so clearly. (Or so she thought at the time.) She got the apology she's always waited for... but the fact that it had to be wrung out of her, after all this time? She shouldn't have to beg her own mother to show her love, to show remorse for what was obviously a huge mistake. "Just get out of here. I hate you.... I never want to see you again."

"...Lettie. I'm sorry." Titania's a mess. The memory fades and fuzzes out for a while... it comes in and out of focus.

Lettie doesn't say anything. She never turns around to comfort her mother as she gradually collects herself.

"I'm going to try and talk to Asmodeus." Titania promises. "...I'm going to try and make this right because I love you."

Titania becomes a silhouette made of static, reshaping into Asmodeus holding a white rose in his hand. Now he's visiting Lettie in her bedroom (prison) that she clearly hasn't left in days, the blazing sunset streaming in through the barred windows painting everything a violent bright red. He sits next to her on the foot of her bed and twirls the stem of the rose, admiring it before looking at her.

"I know you've been through a lot recently... so here. It's a gift. A little something to cheer you up." Asmodeus says as he sets the rose in Lettie's hand and presses her fingers closed around it. "Your solitary confinement ends in three days. Try to smile, all right? You know what will happen if you don't."

The room glitches erratically, with neon blocks of cyan, magenta and green. Then Asmodeus is gone, leaving only Lettie inside. Lettie and the rose he gave her. The faerie cries out, viciously tearing the rose apart petal by petal, taking the full extent of her anger out on the flower. The 'gift'. What good is it going to do her? Does he think that's going to make up for what he did to Lina? Finally, she lights a match under the pitiful remains of it. She imagines it's Asmodeus and everything he stands for. With cold eyes she watches it blacken and burn before tossing the flaming rose into the trash. The rose shrivels up and the scene glitches away, leaving nothing but a hopeless pit of darkness.

"No one saw Titania leave, Olette. The estate covered it up. They can cover anything up. Even this."

"...What? What are you trying to say?"

"Sometimes people enter Asmodeus's office and they never come out again. I'm sure you've noticed." The voice whispers conspiratorially... warping, lowering into something deep, distorted and sinister. "I go in there to clean sometimes. Whenever that happens, a new rose ends up in that flower vase on his desk." The voice rises in pitch, squeezing tight. "Then again, that didn't happen with Titania. I didn't see her in there... but I didn't see a new rose either. Hm. Maybe there're some people even Asmodeus can't touch?"

Flaming roses light up like torches in the darkness, falling down from the ceiling. They pile up at Lettie's feet, turning to ashes. (So mother is...) She's still standing in that same bedroom... in front of the mirror, glaring at her reflection before falling forward on her hands against the vanity. (Mother was...) Hyperventilating. "It's not my fault. It's not my fault." She screams when she can't stand to stare at her reflection any longer, throwing the mirror down and shattering it. Asmodeus barges in to complain about the noise. The mess she's made. (She's certainly made a mess all right. That rose was still alive. She burned her own mother alive.) His voice is muffled and hardly intelligible, though, as Lettie's anger and grief boils over in her ears, reducing the sound to mush. She whips around and flies at him with the fury of a storm, punching him in the face before he can react.

"The only reason I punch people in the face is because they fucking threaten me. It's not senseless." A clip of Juno's voice, covered in static, echoes.

"I don't care what happens to me anymore. I'm going to tell everyone what you did. To Lina... to..." Lettie pants. Her eyes flit to the trash can in her room where the ashes were. (She burst into her room and tried to dig them up... but they'd already been taken away.) "To everyone." She raises her fist to hit him again-- but this time it glows gold and pauses in midair. Asmodeus swings her around by the chain that emerges with ease, smashing her to the floor and stomping on her back between the wings. He moves her hair aside with one hand and traces a complex glyph with the other. When it blazes gold, he flings it at the back of Lettie's neck with the nonchalant flick of his fingers.

"...Tell me, Olette. What are you going to say?" Asmodeus asks with an infuriating smirk. "I want to hear it."

Lettie tries and the golden noose tightens around her neck for the very first time. "Punch me again and I'll kill you. It'll be easy. Like crushing a fly." As her vision fades, control of the nightmare escapes from her grasp again. At least she knows. Now she knows how it happened. Now she's told someone.

***​

"What do you think you'd be doing if you were home right now, eh?"

"...I'd be trying to get my life back together." Lettie and Juno are sitting together in a memory from the past, in that diner booth in the candy-currency world. She's twirls a strand of her violet hair around her finger, gazing out the window. "I don't want to think about home, Juju. I die a little on the inside every time I do. And it'd be a shame if I started losing my hair wings when they look so good, don't you think?" Her wings twist and snap behind her. She doesn't react to this.

"But... Oh! You know what? My first order of business would be to get my fucking wings fixed. I think they've been getting worse." Lettie rolls her eyes. Her wings are twitching erratically now. For a split second they disappear... then reappear again. "Landing flat on my back isn't helping. Cubey should really be more considerate." She's tracing the edges of her napkin, staring up at the pirate through her long eyelashes. "You have an advantage for that, too. Me, the flightless wonder..." Lettie's wings vanish as she talks about their planned heist for that evening. The heist that never happened because there were nightmares to fight. "And you with your stupid buff arms and a whole army at your disposal. Oh well. It'll feel even sweeter when I win like this, I guess."

Lettie stands and dumps her candy bag on the table. Faerie skeletons fall out instead... but she doesn't appear to notice this.

"Come on, Juju! Let's go commit some crimes."

 

[starboob]

Juno stares blankly in front of her, Olette’s words sounding distant and as though they’re being spoken through a long metal tube. She stares at the table in front of her, the basket of fries, the coffee, her features paling as sweat beads over her, down her back. Her breath is shallow as well, her mind still back at the estate. Her eyes still seeing the golden noose. The rose. That demon. Everything. Her gaze flickers cautiously to Olette, just for a second.

She never lied.

Sweat coats her palms and she tries to rub them against her pants to no avail. Her hands are still slick. She presses her back to the cushioned seat, not recognizing where she is or why she’s even here. (Not really remembering that this moment has already happened before.) When she looks around the diner, everyone’s faces are blurred out. All except for a hooded figure sitting at the counter. They’re watching Juno with that wicked grin of theirs. Though she finds more promise than fear in that grin. They lift a finger, perhaps sensing this, and beckon her over with a come hither motion. Juno looks away, down at her hands and that’s when she notices that it’s not sweat but blood coating her palms. She jerks back, blinks harshly, but it’s still there, hands coated in slick warm red.

Outside, the soft patter of rain hits the window and when Juno looks over to the noise, the window is being pelted with blood. A faceless figure slams against it, startling the pirate to the point that she jumps out of her seat and falls on her ass. Their waitress hurries over to Juno and attempts to help her up, but when she notices the blood on the pirate’s hand, she stumbles backwards, eyes wide, lip trembling as she struggles for her words. This gets the attention of another patron, a burly man twice the size of Juno in weight, who yells, “Faerie killer! Call the stewards!”

“N-no!” Juno tries to defend herself, but makes the mistake of holding up her bloodied hands. More people point accusing fingers at her, chanting, “Faerie killer. Faerie killer. Faerie killer.” She shoves her hands into her pockets. “I-I swear— that’s not who I am. I swear! O-Olette, tell them.” Except when she looks over, the faerie is already gone.

The burly patron steps over to Juno while she’s distracted and kicks her under her chin, sending her flying into a stack of supply crates. No longer is she within the diner, but instead in some storage facility for the academy, surrounded by Clay and his goons. Clay’s sporting a black eye and a smirk. Two of his goons dive and grab Juno by her arms, hoisting her up so they’re restraining her and holding her up by her armpits.

Clay’s face morphs into Lina’s and the goons holding her up shift into Terra and Eliza. Lina cocks her head to the side, arms crossed over her chest as she looks Juno up and down. “I honestly don’t see the appeal. Aside from the fact that you’re alive, I don’t see how a dastardly little runt is an upgrade. At least I never gave up on her.” She steps closer to Juno, peering up at her. She pinches her chin, digging her finger nail into the flesh until it bleeds. “She doesn’t even actually want you. It’s me she still wishes were with her. I mean, think about it. Blue being your favorite color? She’s obviously looking for a replacement and it’s obvious you’re just what’s around. Easy to mold, too, since you’re so fucking stupid and empty.” She feigns like she’s about to turn around and instead swings at the last second, hitting Juno in the gut.

She doesn’t struggle. Honestly, Terra and Eliza could let go and she’d take it. (It really doesn’t occur to her that none of these people should know each other. Or even can know each other, given that two are confirmed dead and the third… She has no clue.)

“I knew I should not have trusted you with her.” She lands another punch in Juno’s side. “Now she doesn’t have her fucking wings!”

“I—” Lina hits her nose before she can finish. Her head is thrown backwards and the arms holding her let her go until she’s falling onto an all too familiar lab table. The edges of Juno’s vision are hazy, glitching with static, and the world seems to spin even as she lies flat on her back. A bright light shines over her head, causing her to squint as she looks around. Instinctively, she looks for the faerie, but another interrupts before she can spot her.

“Are you ready, Juno?” The duchess asks, waving a scalpel through the air. “To become the best version of yourself?”

“Wha…” She mutters, trying to scoot away but her wrists and ankles are strapped to the table. There’s no escape. “S-stay away from me. Don’t— don’t do shit to me.”

“Loyalty's the only real fucking currency.”​

“See, Juju, this is what happens when you don’t treat loyalty as a valuable currency.” Olette, goddess of revenge, comes in twirling an iron flail. With the bubblegum she chews, she blows a sparkly pink bubble and when it pops, shards of glass spray over Juno, cutting into her cheeks. Her canines are sharper than usual and her nails are more like claws coming out from the tips of her fingers. When she’s close enough to the operation table, the duchess steps aside and allows Olette to stand over her, lifting the flail over her head. She grins, fire blazing around her eyes.

Juno closes her eyes, not bothering to groveling when she has no right. However, just before Olette can swing the flail down, the pirate remembers everything she witnessed just now or a century ago. Her body sinks against the table. ‘She wouldn’t.’

"Don't you dare put me through that, Juno. I don't want you to die, either."​

She might be furious with Juno, but she wouldn’t fucking murder her. She’s not the homicidal one.

This realization causes the goddess of revenge to shift targets mid-swing with Olette turning to pivot and bludgeoning the duchess instead. When Juno opens her eyes again, hearing the sound of a skull crunching and knowing that it’s not her own, she sees Lettie sprayed with duchess bits just before the scene dissolves to ash.

The ash falls around her like snowflakes, slowly building up to form the duchess’s mansion. (Yet again.) This time, herself and Olette are sitting at the banquet table with Cassidy at the head and the hooded figure at her right hand. Behind her, instead of the red banner, are Olette’s wings, mounted and on display. The duchess’s smile is sharp. "Are you going to introduce me to your girlfriend?"

"Sh-shit, I've got you."​

"You didn't sell me to the Duchess."​

"I told you I got you."​

Juno’s cheeks burn, as they had before, except now it’s shame rather than embarrassment that grips her. Olette sits beside her, but now she’s the one who can’t look. She bunches her hands into fists.

The duchess taps her manicure against the table, waiting for a response. The hooded figure flits their gaze between the three women sitting at the table, before settling on Juno. “Well, pirate. Have you made your choice? Do you know what it is you have to do?”

Juno looks up to meet their gaze, staring at those shiny white teeth. She has to make this right. Olette has to know she’s got her. That she’s sorry for doubting her, for leaving her on her own. For forcing her to go so far beyond just to prove to Juno that she’d always been true when that shouldn’t have even been a question in her mind. Juno should have trusted her.

"I trust you. I do."​

"I trust you."​

Those words should have been everything. There had already been so much proof.

In response to this belief, the room is eaten up by static and screens open up all around that show moments of each time they’ve ever been there for each other. Juno covering Olette’s body when they exploded that nightmarish candy shack. Lettie pulling Juno away from a poisonous (but delicious smelling) tree. Juno throwing a bomb at the snow guardian. Juno catching Olette and carrying her back to Lady to escape the duchess’s undead army. Lettie comforting her right before they healed the techno heart. Lettie divebomb tackling the duchess. Lettie holding the pirate as she broke down in that teal jumpsuit. Juno healing Olette’s wing. Juno hugging Olette’s body, defending her, while those Synthos henchmen swarmed them. Lettie not hesitating when Juno called for her. Juno running to catch her when she fell from that steel tree.

How did she throw all of that away?

Grief swims in Juno with enough pressure that she doesn’t think she knows how to breathe anymore. So much, she feels her chest cracking and when she looks down? Saltwater is leaking out from where her heart should be, in endless streams. The screens around them also begin to crack and leak saltwater, pooling at their feet and quickly swallowing up their legs. Golden chains glitter around Juno’s ankles, attached to golden weights as the water rises and rises.

That figure appears once again, blocking the faerie from view. They outstretch their hand, a miniature pair of faerie wings twinkling in their palm. “Let me help, pirate.”

"Ugh, quit fucking around and get up, princess. Or are you so fucking pathetic that you can't break through fucking clouds?"​

​

Juno doesn't hear this reminder over her desperation, reaching for those wings instead (wings that morph into hungry, snapping razor blades).