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Webb had never in their life wanted to stand their ground and fight. Their fight-or-flight reflexes had gotten gummed up early on and were stuck on “flight” only. The light on their emotional dashboard was permanently lit with a neon HELL NO.

And yet, seeing Vyo lunging down at them, they found that their heart was pounding as much with adrenaline as with anxiety, the roaring in their ears fury as well as fear.

That said, they did not have knives for hands, and so they did the sensible thing and ducked out of the way.

“Fuck,” they cursed, scrambling on wet leaves as Vyo swooped at them. They grabbed the broken umbrella that Pax had dropped at some point, thrusting wildly upwards with it as they felt the brush of wings close—too close—overhead. They didn’t hit anything, but Vyo also didn’t make a second pass, at least not immediately.

“Webb!” Faraday was crouching beside them, expression grim. Despite the rain and the chaos, his hair still looked perfect, tumbling down in a curtain around them both as Faraday knelt, hauling Webb protectively close against his chest. “Are you alright?”

“Fiiiii-nuh, I can’t believe you,” Webb muttered. “Stop it, your jacket is going to get muddy—”

“My jacket can survive a little mud,” Faraday said, face tilted up into the rain as he scanned the dark sky, eyes narrowed. “I’m not sure you can survive getting gored by a harpy.”

“Maybe not with that attitude,” Webb muttered, but they let Faraday stay protectively pressed over them while they also quickly took stock of the situation.

Vyo had flown up overhead again before diving back down again, but this time it looked as though either Pax or Ariadne had managed to grab her attention, or her leg, or both. Her wings were beating furiously as she tried to wheel out of the way again, but Ariadne launched up like a feral housecat, raking a swipe across Vyo’s leg with blackened talons that Webb was very sure that Ariadne didn’t have earlier.

Pax, meanwhile, had materialized some kind of gleaming blade out of seemingly nowhere, a wickedly sharp silver thing about as long as his forearm. He was currently using it to file one of his nails.

“Pax,” Webb hissed.

The demon looked up, wide-eyed. “What? Your vampire looks like she has it handled.”

Honestly, Webb couldn’t deny that. That wasn’t the point. “We need to leave,” they insisted. “Get Ariadne and let’s get out of here.”

Faraday looked thoughtful, biting his lower lip and glancing back along the riverbank towards the Drawing Dead. “Worried this is just a diversion?” he asked, low-voiced.

“Of course it is,” Pax said agreeably, tossing the blade from one hand to the other. “She wouldn’t go toe-to-toe with me, let alone with the four of us, if there wasn’t an ace up her sleeve.”

“And I’m not willing to stick around to find out what that is,” Webb said. They rose up, bracing themself against Faraday, who stood up as well, staying pressed close. They hesitated, though, exhaling an irritated puff of breath. “But… she knows something, so if we can just…”

“Webb, look—” Faraday interrupted urgently, turning Webb towards the direction of the Drawing Dead.

At first, it seemed like nothing—just a shifting of the mist, the rain, and the shadows of the dim pre-dawn. Then the shapes started to take a more solid form. Still in the distance, for now, but coming closer, with amorphous shapes and wielding blades.

“I told you!” Webb hissed, because they had.

“Well, that’s sure our cue!” Pax said brightly. “Or rather—your cue. Witch boy, grab your vampire and our scoundrel here. I’ll chuck you as far as I can throw you.”

Webb made an alarmed noise. “Yes, but also, no, what? What about you? This had better not be a dramatic sacrifice! I’m not playing that game where I leave my people behind one by one to advance my fucking quest, Pax, this is not that genre—”

“Oh, please,” Pax rolled his eyes. “You’re so fucking dramatic. We both want to know what this feather duster knows, but you need to get out of town. I’ll deal with the turkey and avoid the ghost army, don’t worry. And I’ll text you later, because I knoooww you’ll want to know what I find out, and I’ll only make you beg a little.”

Webb stared at him, then glanced over at Faraday. Faraday was looking over at where Ariadne had literally just charged up the side of a tree, making it tremble and shake under the force of the impact, hanging from a branch as she tried to swing her way across it.

“… I mean, I hate to break up Ariadne’s fun,” Webb said in a slightly strained tone. “It feels like taking a tennis ball away from a puppy…”

Pax brandished the knife threateningly in their general direction. “Go,” they insisted sweetly, smiling so wide it seemed to split their cheeks slightly, showing all of their teeth.

“Fine!” Webb nudged Faraday. “How do we—??”

“Get ready to tag out,” Faraday told Pax firmly, straightening up and reaching into his jacket. “I assume you’re readying another portal?”

“Sir, yes, sir,” Pax said with a little purr. This time he drew a circle on the ground with the tip of one gold-tipped toe, a little pirouette in place before he hopped to the side. Leaves and rain vanished, sucked down into the sudden void underfoot. Somehow, this one made Webb even more uneasy than the first.

“And where exactly is this one going to send us?” Webb muttered.

Pax gave them a broad, knifey shrug. “Away.”

“Fair enough.”

“Please focus,” Faraday said with a politely long-suffering tone, pulling out what appeared to be a thread bobbin and striding over towards where his significant other was still brawling with a harpy. His long hair and his technicolor dream coat whipped out behind him in the wind and rain, and Webb tried very hard not to feel impressed and excited.

Pax leaned a little closer to Webb. “What’s he going to do with the arts and crafts?” he whispered.

“I don’t know,” Webb said, raking their wet hair back from their face, stray pieces dripping wet from under the edge of their hat. “My plan was to try to hit her with a car, but that’s obviously not going to be an option.” The temptation to join in the ribbing was sparking on their tongue, but— “It’s fine, though. Faraday knows what he’s doing. Be ready.”

Pax raised one eyebrow, a slightly bemused expression on his face, but he obediently stood on alert, blade raised. Webb watched him uneasily for a moment, something nameless stirring in their chest.

“… are you sure about this?” they asked under their breath.

“What, worried about me?” Pax asked idly.

“I am worried about a lot of things, Pax!” Webb said with gritted teeth. “If you hadn’t noticed, there is a lot to currently be worried about. I’ve had nothing but worries the whole goddamn night! My anxiety is about to take physical form like a JoJo’s Stand!”

Pax laughed softly, flicking his tail. “You could have just said yes,” he murmured. “It’s alright. I’m not glad you’re afraid, but it’s nice to know that you still care, under all those spikes. Maybe things will be better for you, after all this is through.” A pause. “I mean, assuming you survive.”

“Thanks very much. Dick.” Try as they might, Webb couldn’t manage much heat in that.

Faraday had reached Ariadne and Vyo. Watching carefully for an opening, he suddenly lobbed the little bobbin, letting it soar easily over the two of them, trailing a little tail of thread behind it.

For a moment, nothing seemed to happen. Then, Vyo let out a loud squawk as her wings were suddenly hauled close to her body, jerking her back like a marionette on a string. Webb watched in growing astonishment as the thin little thread snaked around her like a chain, jerking her this way and that, yanking feathers and binding her feet tightly together.

“Ria! This way!” Faraday beckoned, gesturing frantically. “It won’t last long—”

Ariadne looked up from her half-crouch, eyes gleaming. She’d ripped off her helmet at some point, and there was blood dripping from her lips. For a moment, Webb wasn’t sure if it was hers or Vyo’s, but after she spat out a loose feather, Webb figured they had a fair idea.

“But I—” she protested, a little growly, taking a few aborted steps towards Vyo.

“Inquisitors are coming!” Webb called out, casting a nervous glance back at where they were closing ground much more quickly than they had any right to. “We’re getting out of here.”

Vyo jerked her head up, eyes bright, even as she continued to struggle against the bindings Faraday had cast on her. Every time she snapped a bit of thread, another tightened around her. She sliced at them with her talons flashing. “Oh, you can run,” she rasped, “and even if I lose you, even if they don’t find you,” she jerked her head towards the Inquisitors, “you’ll never be free of him.”

“Who’s him?” Pax asked casually as he sauntered forward, swaying. Ariadne cast one last furtive glance towards Vyo before scampering to Faraday’s side, leaning heavily against him as the two of them quickly returned to Webb. “Let’s talk about that, you and I, shall we?”

Vyo spat off to the side, finally managing to snatch the glittering bobbin from the air, ripping at the remaining thread with teeth and claws.

“Eat shit, demon,” she said, her teeth bared in a rictus grimace of a grin. Her gaze travelled past Pax to Webb, who still stood at the edge of the portal, posed to jump. “And don’t worry. That one knows exactly who I’m talking about.”

Webb narrowed his eyes at her, a sudden chill creeping up the back of their neck. “Believe me,” they shot back. “If I knew what this about, I’d be having a much less confusing night.”

The harpy laughed, ear-splitting and piercing. “You might have forgotten about him,” she said. “But he’s never forgotten about you. The one that got away…”

Horrified realization seared through Webb like a knife. Dimly, they realized that they’d frozen in place, and that there were voices clamoring for their attention, but they sounded very distant, distorted, like dreaming underwater. The roar of the rain grew stronger, the scent of wet leaves more pungent, and in the distance they heard  them approaching—closer, closer, hooves pounding against the ground in a rapid, urgent patter—

“Webb, we have to go!”

Webb felt an arm wrap tightly around their waist, followed by the unsettling, swooping sensation of the ground dropping out from beneath their feet as Ariadne hauled them bodily into the portal Pax had made. They exhaled soundlessly, strangled and choked.

The last thing they saw before their vision went black was Pax’s face, bright-eyed and curious and concerned, before he abruptly spun around and raised his blade, deflecting the next attack from Vyo’s outstretched talons—

—and then Webb was slammed into the ground, overbalancing, falling hard onto their hands and knees as they were impacted once, twice, and crumpled to the ground.

“Webb…” Faraday’s voice this time, his hands gripping Webb’s shoulders, rolling them over, drawing them upright, cupping their face. Somewhere in the chaos, they’d lost their glasses. They blinked up at Faraday with hazy confusion, head still spinning, mouth tasting like cotton. “Are you alright? Hey…”

Ariadne’s face swam into focus next to Faraday’s, pale and wide-eyed and worried. “Webb?”

“Shut up,” Webb managed to groan, pushing at Faraday’s hands, trying to turn their face away. “That’s my name, it’s my name, I’ve heard it so many times today it’s starting to lose its meaning…”

“They’re fine,” Faraday told Ariadne in a low voice, like he was pretending to say it quietly enough that Webb didn’t hear, but obviously wasn’t trying hard at all.

Ariadne let out a weak little laugh, shifting a little closer, reaching out to grab Webb’s hand. She was a bit of a mess, her leathers caked with mud and covered in scratches, her pale hair plastered damply and dripping. She looked genuinely worried, and relieved—and confused, biting at her bloody lower lip as she looked around.

“Where… are we?”

Webb followed her gaze. At first glance, it seemed like maybe they weren’t that far away from where they’d been last—the edge of some kind of wooded area. But they could no longer see any of the bright lights from the Drawing Dead, and they could hear the occasional hissing rush of tires moving at high speed somewhere nearby.

“I think that we’re near the edge of town,” Webb said, finding the words coming slow and sluggish, as though their tongue didn’t want to cooperate. It sounded remote, like the voice belonged to someone else entirely. “Pax did say he’d fling us as far as he could… don’t know how we’re supposed to get a car from here, but I guess his aim isn’t always the best if he’s pushing himself…”

“Do you think he’ll be alright?” Ariadne asked, worried.

“I don’t know,” Webb said. They knew they should probably get up, the rain-soaked leaves and mud starting to seep through their clothes, but their legs felt heavy. The woods seemed to loom around them, towering and dark, and the whispering of the wind seemed to carry voices that they were trying very, very hard to tune out. “I don’t… know. Lore’s got to be okay. And Pax. I’m not… they said they wanted to help, right? I’m not leaving them behind, I… where are we supposed to get a car, I…”

Ariadne was crouching suddenly closer, her hands finding Webb’s face, trying to tilt it to look at her. “Webb,” she murmured. “Webb, what’s wrong? Did you hit your head, or—?”

“Is it about what she said?” Faraday asked slowly, low-voiced, concerned. “When we were leaving… she said, you knew who was chasing you. That you were the one that got away.”

Webb closed his eyes tightly to avoid Ariadne’s gaze, and covered their ears with both hands, though it wasn’t quite enough to block everything out. The wind, the rain, the voices. Their concern, their questions, the sound of being chased—

“Webb,” Ariadne insisted, shaking their shoulders, anxious. “Webb, what is going on?”

“We have to get out of the rain,” Webb rasped. “And… figure out where to go next.” Was there a service station nearby? A motel? Should they call a Lyft? See if Faraday could work some sort of magic…? Their head spun with possibilities and the breathless pressure building in their chest.

“… please. I just really need to get out of these fucking woods.”

[Please suggest or +1 an action in the comments.

As a reminder, it can be thoughts, words, deeds, or curiosities!]

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[ Please read the kickoff post before commenting! ] 

Webb exchanged a quick and somewhat uneasy glance with Faraday and Ariadne. “Listen, when I told Faraday to go to hell—” they protested.

“Very funny,” Pax said, chipper. “Chop, chop. No time to argue. All aboard the demon train!”

“Pax.” Webb took a few steps closer, regardless. The portal didn’t seem unnaturally warm or anything, and made Webb only a little uneasy to look at. They reached out to try to touch it lightly and got a little smack on their wrist from Pax.

“Where are you taking us?” Ariadne asked, wary but immediately coming to Webb’s side.

Pax huffed, putting a hand on their hip. “Just outside. Unless you want me to take you on a field trip, in which case, I’m down for it, but I don’t know when I’d return you…”

“Outside is fine,” Faraday said peaceably, though he also came up to stand on Webb’s other side. “We need to try to get Ariadne’s bike, anyway…”

“We’ll see what the lay of the land is out there,” Pax pointed out. “But don’t worry. I’m not taking you anywhere too dramatic. Just a little shortcut.”

Webb sighed, glancing back once last time at Lore before approaching the portal. “Fine,” they said. “This is really not the weirdest thing you’ve had me do.”

It was a joke, obviously, and they saw Pax’s eyes narrow and brighten somewhat with mischief—but they also saw the look of slight relief and maybe even gratitude that crossed Pax’s face. There was still a lot going on, and Webb didn’t quite know what Pax’s full game plan was, but this was about as much of an I trust you as Webb was able to give.

Drawing in a sharp breath, Webb stepped through.

They thought the sensation would be stranger than it was. It lasted for a brief moment: heat, then a shock of something cold rushing and crawling along their skin, then a fierce tug that yanked them forward, stumbling. Disoriented, they jerked their head up, feeling a little like they left their stomach behind—and found themself outside, raindrops splattering heavily down onto their head and shoulders.

Webb let out a sigh of relief that immediately turned to bone-deep terror as they realized they were alone. No Pax, no Ariadne, no Faraday—

They whirled around, scattering wet leaves. They were standing on a slope overlooking the darkened riverbank, lit in patches by pools of light from flickering street lamps. Behind them was the edge of the woods; ahead, they could see the bright lights of the Drawing Dead, and dimly hear the sound of music from the balcony over the rushing water and pattering rain.

“Pax—?” They pulled the drawstrings of Ariadne’s hoodie a little tighter, heart hammering at the inside of their ribcage. Had they been tricked? Had this been a ruse to get them alone? Or, worse, to separate them from the others, or—

There was a faint flash of light, and Ariadne and Faraday popped into existence, nearly bumping directly into Webb. A moment later, Pax appeared as well, his wings fluttering as he hovered, holding an umbrella, just keeping the tips of his toes off the wet ground.

“Oh!” Ariadne breathed out, startled. “Where are we? Oh, Webb, are—” she trailed off as she saw the look on Webb’s face, sunglasses be damned. “Are. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Webb said quickly, shoving their hands in their pockets and trying to will their panicky rabbit heart back into submission. Stop it, you’re embarrassing me. “It’s fine. We’re a hell of a ways away, though. Pax, we need to get closer.”

Pax was giving Webb a keen look as well, drifting past them and peering out into the darkness. “I don’t know if that’s such a great idea,” he pointed out, tail coiling around his ankles. “Look.”

Webb followed his gaze, and heard Faraday suck in a little breath. All around the Drawing Dead, they could see the shapes: ghostly, drifting. At least five of them from this side of the building alone, and no doubt each wielding an impossibly large and intimidating weapon.

Fumbling around in their jacket, Webb ducked briefly under Pax’s umbrella and tugged out their notebook. In the same jagged handwriting as before, it read:

Come out, come out, wherever you are.

Pax peered over their shoulder. “Oh!” he said brightly. “Fun. They seem like a riot. Anyway, I thought you might not like to party with them, though, if you’ve changed your mind, I can always…”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Ariadne protested, though she was hugging her elbows, moving from foot to foot restlessly. “… damn, my bike is there, though…”

“They know it’s yours,” Webb pointed out, grimacing. “They saw us ride away before…”

“They might leave it alone, if and when they take, ah, the bait, as it were,” Faraday pointed out in a low voice. “Do you think we should just stick around here for now, out of sight?”

“What are our other options here?” Webb muttered. “I mean, we’re going up to the mountains. Either of you have a fucking car share account?”

“We could—” Ariadne began, then abruptly stiffened, snapping the visor of her helmet up and tilting her head back, sniffing at the wind.

“… what is it?” Webb asked, but Faraday quickly shook his head, making a shushing gesture. Both Faraday and Ariadne were alert, looking around; Pax noticed a moment later, his eyes glowing in the darkness.

“I think we’re about to have an unwelcome visitor,” Pax said with a sudden toothy grin, all fangs. Before Webb could make more than a breathless noise in response, Pax wrapped an arm around Webb and hauled them close against his side, thrusting his umbrella upwards and bracing himself as something slammed into it with enough force to make it crack, sending rain splashing everywhere.

“Webb—!”

That was Ariadne’s voice, followed by the pounding of footsteps, the sound of Faraday cursing, and the beating of heavy wings. Webb shoved the tangled mess of umbrella aside, looking up to see the wet and ragged shape of the harpy from the Drawing Dead, perched on one of the tree branches and leaning down over them with a leer that showed far too many teeth.

“I thought I’d take to the skies,” she said in her raspy lilt, tapping a clawed finger against her cheek. “And look what I found! I thought I smelled a rat.”

“I always thought they kept you around for vermin control, Vyo,” Pax said blithely, shaking out his shattered umbrella and looking very put upon, his blue-green hair plastered to his horns, his skin steaming a little in the rain. “So nice to finally have confirmation.”

“Shut it,” Vyo snapped, though she immediately favored Webb with that unsettling smile again. “So you were willing to disobey the Inquisitors to protect this one, were you? That’s very interesting! I’m sure they’ll want to know all about it…”

“Are you working with Grimm?” Ariadne demanded. She didn’t sound frightened—on the contrary, her feet were braced, her hands clenching and unclenching. Faraday stood motionlessly behind her, his dark hair heavy and wet around his shoulders, his expression composed but obscured, his eyes narrowed.

The harpy blinked, then let out a sharp laugh, grating. “With the vampire? Oh, my sweet summer child. You really have no idea what’s going on, do you?”

“I don’t suppose you’re going to enlighten us, are you?” Webb called back, swaying a little closer to Pax. “You know, dramatic villain speech and all that?”

Vyo’s gaze focused on him again, and she rose up higher on the branch, spreading her wings wide and adjusting her neck, cracking it audibly to one side. She stretched out her arms, fingers cracking as well as they spasmed into elongated, knife-sharp claws.

“No,” she said, before she swooped down out of the darkened sky, lunging for Webb’s throat.

[Please suggest or +1 an action in the comments.

As a reminder, it can be thoughts, words, deeds, or curiosities!]

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Sorry, kittens! Ended up being sick today so no new post (meme voice, I may look strong on the outside, but on the inside, my tummy hurts…) But back tomorrow ♥ Here’s a consolation Pax.

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Happy Halloween, everyone! No updates this weekend – I’ll see you back on Monday. As a reminder, I’ll be aiming to wrap us up by mid-November. Have a cute and spooky one ♥

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[ Please read the kickoff post before commenting! ] 

This section contains moderately mature content.

Before they fully realized what they were doing, Webb leaned in, tilting their head slightly to the side, lips parted. They saw Lore’s dark lashes flutter slightly with surprise, but they responded in kind, their own mouth opening on a soft oh.

“I—” Webb stammered, inches from Lore’s mouth, so close that they could feel the smoke drifting off of Lore, caressing Webb’s lips. “Oh—fuck. You were so… you were asking me for permission so nicely, and I just—may I. Kiss you? I’d like to kiss you. I’d like… I want you to do whatever it is you need to do. I trust you. Can I—”

Lore laughed softly, leaning in to close the slight distance between them.

Kissing Lore was different from anything Webb had ever experienced, yet in some ways deeply familiar. Lore’s lips were soft and pliant, and when Webb immediately deepened the kiss with an impulsive, relieved eagerness, they found that Lore’s mouth was surprisingly hot and wet, their tongue meeting Webb’s with startled shyness but no less eagerness.

Then Webb inhaled, catching a breath after the first desperate press of lips, and felt themself breathe Lore in, swallow them, and they nearly lost their mind at the devastating intimacy of the sensation. Smoke and shadow rolled over their tongue, filling their nose and mouth until all they could taste and feel and smell was Lore, like old books and incongruously fragrant bubble bath and sweet cakes and none of those things at all—

They were close and everywhere and everything all at once, and Webb, who had been keeping people at arm’s length for so long they no longer remember what it felt like to be properly embraced, fell into it like a person desperate to drown.

Letting out a husky moan they hardly recognized as their own voice, Webb gathered Lore tightly into their arms and hauled them helplessly closer. They ran their fingers through Lore’s silky hair, feeling it effortlessly unravel like spun silk pouring over their palms. Lore’s body in their arms had weight and heat and pressure, but in a way that didn’t seem to stop at the gap between them. There was no gap between them anymore, no chill, and no emptiness—just the feeling of Lore enveloping Webb entirely.

It was intoxicating—and terrifying. Webb drew in a sharp breath, almost a whimper, closing their eyes and tilting their head back. They still felt Lore in their mouth, shadow coiling out and pouring out of their mouth like smoke, oozing down their jaw as they gasped for breath and drew Lore further in.

Are you alright? The voice reached Webb’s ears, but they were very sure they weren’t hearing it out loud. It reverberated up through them, gentle and so concerned, and fuck, what was Webb supposed to do with that?

“I’m fine,” Webb croaked out, finding their voice rough and hoarse and breathless, probably because there was somebody in their throat, pouring down it like water. They didn’t know if they even needed to speak out loud or not, or if Lore could just feel the response, taste it, understand it. They wondered if Lore could sense the way that Webb’s heart was hammering, or feel the heat already building to an ache between their legs.

Should I stop? Lore didn’t seem like they wanted to stop, but they did sound (feel?) relieved at Webb’s answer, stroking Webb’s hair reassuringly. At the same time, Webb felt hands running up their arms—then, more emboldened, over their chest, down their thighs. Hands might be a strong word for it, Webb thought wildly as they let out another honestly embarrassing noise—it was a thousand touches, tendrils and pressure, and oh, oh wow—

“S-stop, stop stop, oh fuck we have to stop—” Webb burst out with a delirious laugh, steeling themself for the dizzying, sucking sensation of regret that came a moment later as Lore, of course, withdrew immediately. Webb kept their eyes closed until they no longer felt Lore clinging to their skin, though they still felt the ghost of it, an echo that wasn’t likely to soon fade.

“… Webb,” Lore said, aloud again this time, in their soft and tentative tone, touching a hand—a hand again—to Webb’s cheek. “I’m so sorry, was that…”

Webb opened their eyes and was startled to find them stinging slightly, their lashes damp. They cleared their throat, scrubbing their sleeve against their face, and shook their head stubbornly. “That was fine. That was… uh. That was… a lot. But I liked it,” they added hastily, trying to chase away that worried look on Lore’s face before it had a chance to settle in. “I liked it maybe a little too much and we have, like, zero time, exactly negative time to, you know, explore any of that! In any way whatsoever.”

“Oh. That’s right,” Lore said, a little flustered. “I… forgot.”

“You forgot the fact that we’re in Veracity Yun’s secret bedroom in a vampire den of villainy and there’s a pack of Inquisitors hunting me down and you were tasting my brain so you could go pretend to be me so we can escape?” Webb paused. “Yeah, actually me too, the kissing was really good.”

Lore’s expression shifted through several different emotions before landing on helpless, fond laughter. They leaned in and gave Webb one more kiss, dry and lingering and gentle this time. “Let’s get going,” they said. “We can… continue this later.”

There was a note of promise in that tone that sent Webb’s heart racing, and they let out an aborted little noise, turning quickly to fumble for the door. “I. Yes. Sure. Oh, wait, fuck, weren’t you going to—” they began, turning back around again, then froze.

An eerie, perfect, and entirely unnerving identical copy of themself gazed back at them.

“I’m ready,” Lore said in Webb’s voice, making every hair on the back of Webb’s neck stand up. They pulled out a pair of sunglasses, sliding them on, then reached out and unhooked Webb’s from their collar, sliding them gently back onto Webb’s nose while Webb stood there, shocked and numb.

“Oh,” Webb said weakly. “That’s great.”

They had a very strange sensation in their chest. On the one hand, shy, sweet Lore was far and beyond the closest thing to a real friend that Webb had, with a very palpable and enticing promise to be more. The kiss had been disorientingly, exceptionally good, and had instantly unlocked fantasies and fetishes that Webb didn’t even know they had, or could have any reasonable expectation of getting to actually experience.

But Lore was also shadow and enigma, the monster’s monster, alien and powerful and uncanny and unknown, and the dissonance was strangely chilling.

“Webb…?”

Lore’s brows were creasing, their expression of concern somewhat jarring on Webb’s face, so Webb hastily reached out to squeeze Lore’s hand. Webb’s hand. Hand in apparently loveable hand.

“It’s fine,” they said hastily. “Let’s go back out before Pax starts a riot. I’m not altogether convinced that there won’t have been bloodshed. Ariadne might have eaten someone.”

She hadn’t. The atmosphere in the room was awkward and expectant, and Ariadne and Faraday looked up with palpable relief—then mild alarm—as Webb and their double walked into the room.

“Oh wow—” Ariadne gasped.

“Don’t get too excited,” Lore said immediately in an uncanny impression of Webb’s tone. “I don’t think Lore’s interested in fulfilling anyone’s lewd fantasies.”

Webb’s jaw dropped a little. “Fuck, you’re a better me than I am.”

Lore laughed. Ariadne was looking back and forth like it was a tennis match. Faraday looked like he had a headache.

Pax also seemed to be strangely intrigued, his eyes sharp and bright, but his tail was still buzzing like an agitated snake’s. “Great,” he exclaimed. “Perfect, you nailed it. Now, are we ready to get you the hell out of here?” He glanced back to where Veracity had been exchanging words with two of her attendants, and was making her way back over to the group.

“We’ll take it from here with the… fake,” Veracity said, her gaze moving between the two of them, seemingly nonplussed. “Pax, I’ll entrust the others to you, of course.”

“Of course,” Pax said easily. “I’ll make sure it’s taken care of.”

“What about the rest of it?” Webb asked, shifting a little closer to Lore, anxious again and already feeling Lore’s impending absence strongly. “What were you going to tell us?”

“Oh, yes,” Veracity said with an air of casual nonchalance. “I’d almost forgotten. But I suppose it’s relevant.” Her gaze travelled to Ariadne. “My sources suggest that the original Grimm, this one’s sire, is no longer the Grimm that we’re currently dealing with. The one that’s in power right now, and has been for at least five or six years—ever since this political maneuvering started—is either some kind of usurper, or his successor.”

Silence fell in the room. Webb saw the shock they felt reflected on everyone else’s face—even Pax’s. Ariadne looked the most shocked of all, uncomprehending and almost faint.

“That—but. What? No… how can that…?” Ariadne stammered.

Veracity shrugged. “I thought you’d be pleased,” she said. “Trying to go up against one’s own sire would be madness. You’d be his puppet again in seconds. Surely you knew that.”

“I… was going to figure something out,” Ariadne said faintly, shaking her head to clear it. “But… what? How? Why?”

“That is what you’re going to need to find out,” Veracity told her with an edge of impatience. “I need to know who this upstart is, how he managed what he’s done, and where Grimm has gotten off to. If he still lives.”

Veracity’s specific personal interest and request suddenly made much more sense to Webb. They were willing to believe and accept that she had been simply concerned about a rise in power and aggression from a nearby vampire lord. But knowing that he’d somehow pulled the reins of power away from an existing lord…

That was a big and real and present threat.

In some way, Webb felt strangely reassured. They now knew that there was something that Veracity actively feared—something that, if they played their cards right, they could use as actual valuable leverage to trade to her later.

On the other hand, the level of bullshit they were having to deal with was starting to become sincerely unreal.

“Well,” Webb declared, leaning an arm on Lore’s shoulder. “I suppose that might as well fucking happen. We good to go, Pax? Ariadne, you good?”

“I’ve been ready to go for so long, you have no idea, I’m dying, I hate you,” Pax said brightly, steepling his fingers together.

“I’m… ready,” Ariadne agreed. She was clutching Faraday’s hand tightly, but her expression grew more serious after a moment, and she released him to haul on her helmet.

Webb turned to Lore, unsure of what to say, or do, or how to say goodbye, but Lore just gave Webb’s hand a firm squeeze, their expression calm, stepping away to join Veracity.

“Stay safe,” Lore instructed in a no-nonsense tone, so unlike their usual quiet lilt. “I’ll catch up with you before you even have a chance to miss me.”

“I already miss you,” Webb shot back, instantly embarrassed by having said that, but feeling somewhat vindicated when Lore got flustered as well, hands fluttering.

Webb turned to Pax to avoid having to confront that feeling any further. “Where are we going?”

Pax raised his eyebrow, but turned, beckoning with one elegant hand, fingers curling. “This way, my contraband cupcakes. I hope you’re ready for a ride.” A look of concentration crossed his face as he sauntered over to the far wall, tracing a wide circle with the tip of one nail in one smooth, easy arc.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then, with a rush of sound like a thousand whispers building up into a scream, the area inside the circle turned hazy, uneasy, licked with flame and shadow.

Pax dropped into a deep bow, sweeping an arm out. “After you,” he said with a wide, wicked smile.

[Please suggest or +1 an action in the comments.

As a reminder, it can be thoughts, words, deeds, or curiosities!]

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