Skylar Grayson's Story

Autumn chuckled and smiled back to Skylar, an obvious sign of emotional improvement. She remained the same in the days to follow and happily went along with the events. It was not unusual to see her admiring the many dresses she was put into. It felt so nice to have energy again. She hadn’t felt this good in a long time. She had been useful, she had been strong, and she was so happy.

The breakfast was enjoyable and Autumn could finally eat without wondering how much energy the food would give her. To live without thinking of those numbers, it was almost intoxicating. She was more than happy to go to mass, even though her belief in the goddess was shaky at best. The blonde was still trying to accept it as fact, despite all of the evidence in front of her.

Kit, however, was obviously a firm believer. Despite his disdain for wearing all white, something Autumn had only recently grown to understand the reason for, he was incredibly serious during mass. He listened closely to the Harbinger. In a way, his obedience seemed wrong to Autumn. It just didn’t seem like him. Here was a sarcastic man who had trouble holding his tongue and the almost constant impulse to prove himself to be the best in the room, following along like a lamb. It seemed odd, but then again there were people far stranger and actions far more puzzling.

As much as she had tried before the gathering, Autumn couldn’t twirl in her party dress. The large ball gown was simply too heavy and stiff. This time it was mostly black, save the skirt underneath the large beaded bustle. The lace trimmed sleeves and beaded top gave it an elegant look, though Autumn hardly considered herself to be such. She wouldn’t complain, though. Just because the dress didn’t suit her personality didn’t mean she didn’t like it. It was far better than what her guardian was wearing, but Autumn found most mens fashion in the Rose Kingdom was questionable at best.

Despite his (and by extension most mens) fashion choice, Kit was doing well at the party. While Autumn had nothing else to do but sit on the side and wonder if she remembered how to fox trot, the redhead mingled with ease and even danced from time to time. Autumn wasn’t too surprised by this. After all, he had grown up in the Rose Kingdom. From what she had heard, he had actually been quite wealthy. Things like this were probably second nature to him now.

Autumn spoke to a few people, but soon found them too hard to follow. Unlike Kit, she had no idea how to respond to topics of great literature from Aires or which painting in the plaza struck her as the most magnificent. These were Kit topics, not Autumn topics. Try as she might, she just couldn’t find the conversation interesting. Then there was the minor problem of seeing Liam dance with who she assumed to be Dae. Autumn had known for a while that she wouldn’t be getting anywhere with Liam, but it still hurt. Adding the fact that Harper and Xabier were now dating, well that just made it even more difficult. Sometime during her conversation with so and so from such and such family, Autumn felt the weight in her heart.

She eventually drifted over to Skylar, happy to chat with her friend for a while. She might never be able to be with those she was fond of, but at least she had friends. It dulled the pain a little.

“… and then he just throws the turkey!” Autumn laughed, retelling a scene of some thanksgiving reality show she had seen to which ever warriors were near her.

“I mean, sure it’s a little burnt but that’s just overboard.” Now she was feeling better. There were probably other ways to go about heartbreak, but pushing it back and ignoring it seemed to be working just fine. As long as she didn’t look at them, ignorance was bliss.

She smiled at the princess as she approached.

“I’d love to, but to be honest I don’t really know how.” Autumn shrugged, though it was a comical gesture.

“And I can’t do the worm in this dress.” She chuckled.

“The worm? What is the worm,” Morgan inquired as she looked at Autumn and offered a gesture of welcome towards Mori and Karma who were making their way towards her.
“I can teach you lot some classic RK dances if you’d like!”
She stepped back, palms open like some unaware, ethereal saint.
“Won’t one of you demonstrate with me? Anyone! Little ones are also welcome!”
---------
The clink of glass to glass was the only thing needed to set Tallyho’s brow in a confused furrow. Was he really going with him? With Trent? It wasn’t that Tallyho didn’t want Dorian to have other friends (and she hoped to goddess she didn’t feel that way deep down) but the idea of him befriending Trent set her stomach a few planes higher. She distanced herself even farther as Trent clasped Dorian on the shoulder in a manly fashion and led him out of the dance hall. Not a head turned. This was almost normal.
---------

Outside Trent grunted heavily. Fumbling fingers loosened his neck tie as he looked around to make sure no one was following. Most notably Mildred, who would cut her own arm off just to keep people right where they were supposed to be, and Morgan who probably would have just wanted to tag along for fun.

“Tonight we’re meeting the others at a bit of a hole-in-the-wall. Some old tavern where they make the best, strongest liquor I’ve ever tasted…You’re a drink guy right? I was just asking because some of the guys are avid poppy fans.”

As Trent spoke he walked with confidence towards what could be assumed to be the aforementioned tavern. He hardly surveyed his surroundings, suggesting that he was a frequent patron.

“So you never answered my question. About how you feel about this ceremony thing? This warrior business. I have to admit that I’m a bit jealous. Must feel good being so important?”

He made a sharp turn. The architecture became less formal as they ventured away from the affluent part of the city. It seemed that they farther they got away from the dance hall the more informal Trent became.

“I imagine that feeling isn’t too foreign to you. First time I met you in that cell I sort of felt that you were a guy like me! There was a certain… dignity about you. Intelligent, socially wise (yes Trent thinks he’s a social prodigy), generally well groomed if you have the choice. You’re like me just shy. Why don’t you ever talk? Stand up for yourself for once!”

Trent did not give Dorian time to answer before slapping him on the back.

“You’re nothing like those plebeians you’re on a team with… Are they always so base—the ones who thought it wise to verbally challenge me? The guys tried much too hard to make me bat an eye, and some of those girls—even though they technically didn’t say anything stupid—tried to get sarcastic. Which is honestly the basest, most uncreative way of getting back at me. I mean really? How passive… Oh! Over this way!”

Trent made another sharp turn down an alleyway.
“Are you ready my boy?”

The days following the parade seemed to pass in a blur, the countless celebrations and extravagant dresses seeming to blend into one another. Skylar couldn’t quite wrap her head around the fact that they had made it this far- after the years of training and roughing it and living in secrecy, they were finally being accepted as the Month Warriors.

She knew that their victory should have come with a sense of accomplishment or pride, something at the very least, but all she felt was an odd sense of indifference as she waited for whatever they would ultimately be tasked with next.

No matter how much Mildred and the palace staff fussed over her, Skylar couldn’t bring herself to enjoy the attention. A self-proclaimed tomboy from age four, the constant pampering was almost as rough as their training. The gowns were beautiful, she would admit that much, but the all the frills and thick fabric were a little too much for her liking. Each day brought about a new set of dresses (usually in some variation of green or brown- all earthy colors, how original), and Skylar could only wonder where Mildred was getting them all from so quickly.

Skylar eventually fell into life at the palace, falling into a daily routine that mainly consisted of her aimlessly wandering the hallways in between their scheduled appearances. She knew there was so much more to the kingdom to explore, but for now she was perfectly content with exploring their home for the time being. She did her best to cast aside thoughts of their battle with the Cyclopeans, and she found herself spending more time than usual with Harper in hopes that his humor and good nature would rub off on her.

-

Skylar wasn’t particularly fond of the mass, the sermon going right over her head. It still felt odd, to be worshipping something completely different than what she had been used to at home. Then again, her family had never been especially religious either and her Church experiences were limited to the occasional mass on Christmas Eve or Easter.

Her attempts to at least try and look interested failed when her attention span ran out ten minutes into the service, her pale eyes scanning the room until her gaze landed on Bryce. She hadn’t seen much of her guardian since the initial battle, and she figured that he was off doing Bryce things and enjoying the luxuries the kingdom had to offer. From what she knew, he had grown up in a wealthy home, so all of this probably wasn’t new to him. Unlike Haru and Kit, who seemed obviously immersed, she couldn’t read her own guardian. He sat straight up, hands clasped in his lap as he looked ahead.

-

The one thing that got her the most was Princess Morgan’s interactions with King Rembrandt, and how well they seemed to get along. The man reminded her a lot of her own father, how he never seemed to take himself seriously and his personality essentially lit up the room. As the only girl in her family, she and her father had always been close and she held the title of “Daddy’s girl” very seriously. She nostalgically watched the two banter back and forth with each other, lips curved in an almost sad sort of smile. She didn’t think about her family as much as she used to, but certain things would stir up the feelings of homesickness all over again and make her wonder what had changed back at home in the years since she had left.

-

Skylar shouldn’t have been surprised that the “small gathering” turned out to be yet another lavish celebration, the elite from all of Aires milling around the great ballroom. After making her rounds with Bryce and managing to slip a few drinks by him, she resigned to a corner where a few of the other warriors were standing. She watched Bryce slide back into the crowd, the older male clearly in his prime. He seemed so used to this sort of lifestyle, easily falling into conversation with some diplomat from Ira.

With a short sigh (because the corset she had been tied into kept her from taking any deeper breaths), she let herself take in the scene before her. Her gaze screeched to a halt at the sight of Liam dancing with a tall woman dressed in green. She tilted her head, not quite believing what she saw. Was that Dae? Maybe she’d had more to drink than she’d realized.

She didn’t get to dwell on the thought too much though, the sound of Autumn telling a story about a Thanksgiving turkey distracting her.

“I’m not quite sure how you dance in these gowns, they’re so uncomfortable!” Skylar said with a laugh, turning to face Morgan. “You’d probably have to get another drink in me and then I might consider it.” She grinned, tucking a loose strand of dark hair behind her ear.

Falke had never been one to be overwrought with anxiety at the prospect of being touched. Enough family gatherings of pinched cheeks, cooing words of encouragement from any passerby that happened to notice his disability, and having one of the most protective mother's on planet Earth; should have given him an unconcerned and indifferent air regarding such matters. But still, even with the plausible excuse of his abilities now (seriously how many more people needed to be rattling around in his noggin, he was having enough issues as it was coping after the battle) being the cause of it, he was uneasy just listening to Miss Mildred's 'to do list' speech for them all over the following weekend. He did not like being touched much regardless of powers or not. Period.

The Tailors' were pretty much as bad as anyone could suspect. Poking and prodding, alongside, well, if you called that a measuring tape - Falke could share breathing space at times. Exchanging CO2 for additional CO2, with people who really needed a couple tooth-leaves or less alcohol before ten in the morning, was not what you'd call his highlight of the day. Upon being one of the last finishing with fitting, he was told he was going to be made a 'darling' of the city (whatever that meant) dressed in light, fair colors of blue, silver, and gold.

For the rest of what Falke had begun to deem as particularly lazy, maddeningly lazy days honestly, he surprisingly spent his time in the gardens. Even despite the occasional disruption of the Princess twittering away like an over-excited songbird and /needing/ to smell this new, positively delightful flower, or giving polite conversation until an errant thought took her away again; it was quiet, peaceful. He found an ability to relax, to meditate, and the shakes of his shoulders and hands that brought memories (and thoughts, and feelings) resurfacing did not happen to find their way to him for hours.

All to soon, the day was over and done with, and Falke attended the evening meal. He retired early to practice silently a few swings and imaginary hits with his weapon, exceedingly careful to not knock anything over; after a feeling he wouldn't be getting much time for doing it again between getting dressed between events, and the sheer mental and physical strain of heavy garments and public appearances to come.

---

The parade the following was one part embarrassment, and another terrifying. It was long, tedious, and awkward process getting into their, well, for lack of a better word, costumes. His own looked like a mixture of renaissance with a dash a Rome: A fine, powder blue brocade doublet, light brown leather riding pants and boots, hell even his splint had been decorated to complete the medieval requirement of his get-up; but the silver cape, er-cloak, or really blanket of sorts, that draped 'fashionably' across his arms and one shoulder and spilled across part of the rump of the fine, white horse he was astride, seemed quite frankly from a different era entirely.

Additionally the cheering, howling crowds lined the streets, created another hard pill to swallow. Yes, they had rotted in prison for two weeks, had still managed to defeat the flock and their leader monstrosity with lacking team work and abilities without anyone kicking the bucket thankfully, and the month warriors had 'returned' again, oh whoopie. He understood a little of their perspective somewhat, but... really... all this?

Falke struggled to remain a calm mask , in the onslaught of noise battering his ears and mind alike; biting the inside of his lip, mimicking the look of a thin, but confident line. His eyes wandered blearily in small snapping motions, observing the loudest, most fervent hollers and musicians behind and to the side for a small time, and to the other warriors in their group (all having some emotional rip-roar of one kind or another, to prick his attention now and again). And the blush that rose across his cheeks hardly showed, thanks to Mildred and tailors' insistence at covering his black eye and bruised temple (that had just started to turn a putrid yellow-green, it was not pretty by any means) with powdered make-up.

...

Lillian, like the other Guardians' had disappeared at the start of the parade; finding it to be a rare moment of luck to be free of feather as it were. Instead of being stuck in a jostling crowd, that could meet with unkind consequences should her shawl's hood fall (even with Tallyho's acceptance of being a warrior by TRK and Grand Harbinger); unnoticed, a lithe owl had flown into the soft breeze above the city streets, caressing softer feathers in short bursts from roof top to roof top.

She had kept along with the warriors progress throughout the parade watchfully, but hadn't been able to avoid to side street of the joyous Sun People. She lingered a moment longer there, listening to their singing and celebrations, a song of old of triumph for a village member, even though they'd forgotten much of the original words; it was still... Nice...

---

The 'excitement' of one day bled into the next. Another new set of clothes was thrust upon each of them by Mildred early into the morning, for a breakfast with jolly and warm King. It was clear where Morgan had exactly gotten her silliness from, and their interactions were as sincere as a family without any royal requirements or duties. The event was an odd moment of ease, in their tense and extremely busy schedule.

The all white mass was their next appearance, and despite the 'struggle' of being primped up again, this was something Falke could do, and do well. He had gone to enough church services with his mother, at the small Roman Catholic venue up the road from their family home in the outskirts of Hamburg. He was specialized in sitting still with head bent slightly down, wordlessly vigilant, and poised in thoughtful contemplation for hours on end. Much of the Grand Harbinger's sermon had gone over his head, due to his lack really of truly understanding the Goddess completely (schooling at the Academy had helped, but still he felt at a loss really), but it didn't mean he couldn't remain proper and play the part as needed.

...

Lillian seemed to as intent as Haru, watching the Grand Harbinger with a quiet sort of ferocity most had never seen from her actively. While she had always been openly religious with anyone who had asked about or seen or heard her 'to the One' phrases, she had never been so devout. Or, being more politically correct, trying so hard to be devout. The One above, she was sorry but it still felt wrong, even after so many years of trying so hard, to be sitting here, still as they could be, all attention on the sermon - her cold, bitter heart was not in it.

...

Oh, what a darling! What a pretty young man! That little, blind and broken babe.

Fei. No matter how often the words we're repeat in his presence since the beginning of the "small" yet exceeding extravagant gathering of nobility from all over mostly western Aires (with a small group of Eastern Islanders and those hailing from Ira too as well), Falke did not find himself ever getting used to it.

It was unnerving how quickly news had traveled or had been told in second-person, but the young September warrior found himself known immediately by name or at the very least one of the above statements. Nor was it a surprise really, being the only warrior that happened to be blind and was seen limping occasionally in a decorated walking splint. The inability of being able to disappear to a corner for a brief moment of respite was frustrating as it was alarming.

Most encounters were quick, brutal things, that Falke managed relatively well. Which usually meant he could flash a small, reluctant smile, a soft rumbling chuckle (that was obviously decisively false to the extreme few that had been able to get a geniue, deep, rolling belly laugh out of him twice, he couldn't be soft if he tried), and idle, empty conversation. Thankfully no one discussed the palace's artwork or fine Airian literature, because accurately enough how would he have seen any of it.

He'd only recently escaped from a group from Hales. The men had called him tiny brother, or something about an icicle in terms of his slim figure maybe, he hadn't been quite sure. Especially given that half of the conversation was in-between drunken laughter and bashing his shoulders and arms good naturedly with meaty fists. The one woman in the party had been more subdued, and had only left him with a soft kiss of farewell as they parted - leaving him now standing in a corner, with Skylar and Autumn chatting nearby about a turkey tossing competition or reality show or something, as he gently rubbed the red lipstick stain from his cheek in quick, determined movements from a small cloth a passing servant had handed him.

He glanced up as the Princess approached, still bounding with energy even after the long day at large as she urged them all to join her, dance with her, she would teach them. Autumn and Skylar answered quickly enough, that Falke believed he was safe enough from answering verbally. He tilted his head gently in the negative in response.

It wasn't that he wouldn't enjoy it, because really he loved dancing - whether, well, years ago now, learning the waltz from his mother; or the times on the ship, Tallyho hauling him into an elegant but rather silly and wildly swinging display. Nor his leg's fault, while still sore, it was getting better he kept telling himself day to day. But in all honesty the swirling crowd around them was the main problem... He had enough people recognizing him, just walking out of the blue into him. He did not feel the need to go in the middle where everyone could go 'oh look, the darling, that pretty young man, the little, blind and broken babe - he can dance too!'

...

Lillian moved quickly, departing from a conversation gone sour. An older noblewoman had been admiring her delicate coiled up-do, but had accidentally bumped a clip in her inspection and caused a chunk to fall out long, it's golden hues coiling naturally down. Her husband had taken the offensive, and had assumed correctly 'what' she was - using a drunken, heavy-handed slap to send her on her way when she'd declined a song, or dance, or the implied threesome later on in the night. Luckily enough, the hand hadn't been remotely close, due to too many under his belt; and she had been on her way, before anything additional could occur.

A thin fingered hand escaped the confining folds of her long-sleeved flowing dress, reaching up to pull the hair back with sure motions to clip back the errant dark golden lock into place. Pausing at the edge of the gathering, weariness clear in the depths of her washed-out, gray-blue eyes. Her already lean and angular face seemed rather pinched as she scowled, as her eyes narrowed as they made an idle attempt of locating the exit. It would likely be wise for her to depart sooner rather than later.

He knew what he had to do, the problem was actually doing it. He wasn't comfortable here and was an absolute failure at hiding how he felt about things, but he definitely grew up in the last few years. Even if he wasn't comfortable, he could still survive without having a screaming, kicking meltdown or trying to beat the crap out of someone else. That brought a little chuckle to himself. He can do this. The younger blond turned back around and gave both Liam and Dae a small bow. "As the lady commands."

To go even further with his silliness, he dipped his head to kiss the top of Dae's free hand and forced himself out of his frozen anxiety. Yes, Dae is a woman and Liam is her boyfriend. They knew who he was and knew he couldn't be competition for their relationship. Dae dressed up is beautiful, but he still knows and respects her as the knight she is.

Now to tackle the next challenge. Yes, a challenge. He remembered that he liked a challenge. Kyle pulled on his collar again, but drifted away from the knight and magician. These fake people love him, and expect him to like their attention. It was like that one more load of rocks, that one more page of homework. Just one more of these dumb things and then it should be over. He took a deep breath, and then a couple drinks from the nearest server and finished one in time to place it on the next tray taking others' empty glasses away. One drink; then two, and then he stopped. A clear head would probably be necessary for the last useless event tomorrow. Maybe then he would be free of his present gilded cage.

After the two drinks, he did manage to offer pleasant smiles and conversation to all the foreign dignitaries who wanted their piece of him. Most of the conversation was kept to well-placed compliments or small talk, but occasionally he pushed the conversation to the rich snobs talking about themselves. Those conversations he preferred, because he didn't want to tell anything about himself, and they gave him a chance to get a better view of Aires.

Finally he crossed the room to someone he actually DID want to see with a drink in each hand. "May I offer the ladies a drink?" He turned to Falke, a grin on his face that the September warrior couldn't see, but he could hear. "How about you, young sir?"

Diamond Traders made Nikita herself something of a public figure before she was connected to her month warrior. Some of these guests were her suppliers or customers, but she had never been invited to or involved in any of their parties. It was a new experience, but not as much as a strain for her than Kyle. She already knew names and basic personal information she needed for business. If she could find him, she could introduce him and at least give him something. They were separated in the crowd, and both were short making it difficult to be seen or see each other. She sighed as she nursed her first drink, and bumped into a frustrated Lillian. "What happened?" she asked, noting the scowl.

Autumn chuckled. “It’s just a joke, just a joke.”

She was fairly certain that if she did describe the worm, the fair princess would have no reservations in imitating it.

“Oh, don’t be a fuddy-duddy! Dancing sounds wonderful!” Autumn laughed again, cheerfully placing her hands in Morgan’s palms.

“I’d love to dance! Thank you for the offer, Kyle, but I’ve got to get my boogie on!” It had been a long time since the November warrior had been so energetic. She didn’t even need to have any drinks to be so gleeful. The mere fact that she wasn’t dragging her heels was enough to make her ecstatic.

“You know, if you want to dance with someone who’s really good, I think Kit probably knows all the moves.”

Kit, too, kept himself rather sober. It was an interesting development, as Autumn would have expected him to be drinking rather heavily considering the recent events. His calm state only further enforced her suspicion of his guilt. The smallest glance at someone’s necklace was enough to make him turn his head the other way and try to focus on something else.

His head swiveling and his eyes darting were common traits of his, as he had a tendency to observe anything and everything, but Autumn knew well enough to know that him not focusing on art of any kind was rather uncharacteristic of him. However, it wasn’t her business to try and solve his internal conflicts.

“He never taught me, though. Always fighting this, fighting that. Good thing you’re around to show me how!”

"May I offer the ladies a drink? How about you young sir?"

Young sir? Falke tilted his head to regard evenly in Kyle's general direction, an eyebrow raising in curiosity. The curiosity was not deemed to be the fact that he was technically 6 months at least older than the other younger man. But because of the smile he could hear in his words as he spoke. Genuine as it was in greeting and offering a drink to fellow associates of the month warrior party, it still sounded stained like he was trying awfully hard to enjoy himself - honestly, a little over doing it in his opinion. He could accurately assume that the party obviously was not Kyle's cup of tea either. "No, thank you." Falke returned, politely. As his gaze wandered back to Morgan, asking one of the warrior's to demonstrate with her - Autumn cheerfully stepping forward to, well er, as she put it 'get her boogie on'.

Falke flicked a hand upwards and to the side, in a gesture to where Morgan was gathering those to learn to dance, and for Kyle's benefit explained idly as he spoke up again. "I can hold those for you, if you want to go and learn traditional RK dances with them." He offered. Well aware that his company, even being a vague 'friend' of Kyle's, wouldn't be as appreciated as someone elses'. He wasn't born yesterday, even with his own limited (or lacking really, other than his family) experience with such sort of emotions; and with his abilities, Goddess above, hesh... He knew more than he really wanted to know. More than enough to put two and two together between crushes and relationships that were more than simply good friendships. Hell, sometimes it was a bloody war zone.

...

"What happened?"

Lillian blinked. The scowl fading from her fair face, and replaced with a gentle, sly smile, as she recognized the voice speaking up from beside her. "Nothing more than what I expected," Lillian paused, her accented tone sweet and sad, but gracefully shrugging off whatever had happened. During her exceedingly long lifetime, immortal occurrences of disgrace and disgust was something she would always deal with - especially being at a party where she did not belong. She glanced back to Nikita, with a distant warmness in their depths, as she complimented her on the other woman's assembly, "Lovely. You look lovely m'dear." Truly admiring the dress and other Guardian's thing of beauty, was an ease she had long since accomplished as an art form. The more you had, the more you could use it as an advantage, speaking simple. "Enjoying yourself?"

As she spoke pleasantly, keeping the conversation afloat, her mind silently worked into overdrive as she noted where other Guardian's and the warriors where in the large ballroom. It was a more likely that another Guardian would be better suited than a hot-headed warrior that did not understand Lillian's social and class situation and would take the dreadfully wrong assumption if anything where to happened again; to help her weave out of the crowd and reach the exit on the far side. However, her two preferred companions, Haru and Ryou had finally begun talking again after days that a rift had come between them. She was proper enough not to bug them during this time. Kit was, oh bless his heart, much too scrawny for words. And would not achieve the desired effect of not being noticed as she was escorted away, she could only figure. Ondine was bluntly to close to the warrior's in mindset that even on a good, exceeding good, day she would not trust her in this task. Nikita too had her faults lying on being too closely connected with these people through her business, they would want to come and talk to her. Bryce it seemed then to be the best choice she had, his manipulative persona had a powerful pull but given the right circumstances it keep people away and weary in his presence. However, she'd yet to spot him through the crowd. Oh, what a bother...

Nothing more than expected, she said and didn't elaborate before changing the subject. Something involving fear, anger, disgust and disrespect most likely. Nikita sighed. She also had her share of those experiences before, but Lillian didn't want to talk about it obviously, just like Haru and Ryou didn't want to talk about why they weren't talking to each other. Was it really nosy to want to know why people she liked were upset? Of course, she never told any of them why she was upset before arriving in Rose Kingdom or why she couldn't sleep the weeks they spent in jail. She turned her face away and squeezed her eyes shut to force the memories back. Eventually she submitted to Lillian's subject change and accepted the compliments on her light green dress. She smiled lightly and finished her drink, passing it off to a server. Nikita shrugged a little in response to Lillian asking if she enjoyed herself. "It's nice but I think I would enjoy it more in a previous life."

Falke offered to take the drinks off his hands and let him dance, and Kyle flushed a little. Of course the guy who could read minds would know more than anyone else. At the same time, he knew he hadn't been paying much attention to Falke lately and they were supposed to be friends. Falke probably wasn't enjoying himself much either. Attention was never something he seemed to want.

The younger blond turned back to Skylar. He flushed slightly more pink and met her light blue eyes with a soft, cherishing smile. In that moment he caved, passing off the glasses of alcohol to either Falke or a passing server. Once his hands freed, he reached out to stroke her face just under her ear. Uncertainly he curled his fingers back at the last minute. Then he bent slightly and grasped her hand instead, lifting it to kiss the top. All the while, he never turned from her face. When would he have another chance like this?

The moment didn't last long enough. Xabier's voice broke through his mind and he gripped Skylar's hand tighter, looking up to the Spaniard with a glare. The interruption was not appreciated.

In some ways he was still angry with his prior friend, but he did open the door for him to act like a friend again and talk. Efforts had been made to restore the relationship, but Kyle still didn't think he could trust him, because he still avoided the subject of why they separated in the first place. That was the most important step forward. Only by knowing the why can he understand what to do in the future.

Still, his anger didn't linger as he watched Xabier and Autumn drift away with Morgan for an impromptu dance class. He gave a chuckle. Morgan's absolute joy in being around people infected him too. Despite the Spaniard's awkward presence, he really wanted to join them, but he couldn't force Skylar into something she wouldn't enjoy. His flush deepened a little more and he swallowed, but managed to say, "Are you sure you don't want to dance? Will you dance with me?"

If she wanted to dance, Kyle would be an eager dance partner, but if not, they could take a walk in the gardens outside and Falke would also be invited, if he wanted to get away. Either way, at the end of the night, he could honestly say he enjoyed himself. He had a chance to spend time with Skylar he didn't before.

Unfortunately, the next day left his brief happy memories of the party in the dust. It felt like the day they were locked up, but worse. Instead of just Haru and Nikita poking at him, a host of strangers were doing it. This time he couldn't hide or shrug off the panic. Trembling and sweating, he shook off the latest set of prodding hands. "Need air," he gasped and fled to the gardens. Once outside he nearly collapsed against one of the fountains, clinging for dear life. "Safe. not prison." There he remained, trying to get himself back together.

He had to change his shirt before submitting to the final touches on his ceremonial uniform. Because of that, he arrived a little late to the rehearsal, getting a glare from Mildred. He flushed and pulled his collar, but made extra effort in paying attention to the frenetic little woman's directions. His tasks seemed easy enough, but he also flinched at the order not to sneak away. A gilded cage. Could he really keep from freaking out? He didn't have pleasant memories of this Harbringer either. Deep breaths. Deep breaths. It's almost over. Almost over.

After that trial, they dispersed to two separate rooms. That went by fairly well, even though Kyle ended up stuck in a room with Harper for an hour. He hadn't been acting the fool as much lately, but he still was a selfish bastard who can't be trusted. Skylar, Tallyho, and Dorian were pleasanter company. Because of the selfish bastard's earlier snubbing of Skylar,-He would never forgive Harper for that- Kyle remained protectively close and offered her anything she asked for from the table. He personally was disappointed in the lack of fish, which seemed ridiculous considering it was more like a buffet than the snack table Mildred called it.

While things were calm, he looked over to Tallyho and Dorian and caught part of the conversation. He unfortunately wasn't paying enough attention to know that Dorian went anywhere last night, but Tallyho did and asked the March Warrior about it. Dorian answered that he saw a new part of the Rose Kingdom. When and how did he do that? Kyle wished he could find a way to get out of this gilded cage and look around. "Where did you go?"

The dance was probably the most fun he'd had in a long time.

Gregarious setting where he could still flit from person to person and get his own space if need be? No politics to worry about? Drinks all around?

Harper reveled in it.

At some point he sauntered over to Xabi and the others, (the fact that Morgan was with them certainly not playing into his reasoning) and danced first with Skylar, very briefly with Morgan, and then not long enough with Xabi.

And he got drunk. Oh so drunk. It took every ounce of will-power not to make-out with every person present.

Flirting, however, was a free for all, and he did so with everyone in his drunken, blurry sight.

The next day brought a hangover like a hammer. The kind only coffee could control. Or the closest thing they had to it. A bitter drink that was more tea than anything, but Harper downed it and drank water like a fish as people ferreted around him, sticking him with pins other sharp things as they fitted his suit.

It was a nice suit. A tailcoat. Greens and blues like the ocean, a gradient from top to bottom growing darker and darker with a shiny, pearl-ish fabric for the foam on the waves that sprayed up against his shoulders, which greatly resembled a certain Japanese woodblock print. The buttons were of actual pearl, and smaller grains of them dotted the shirt underneath in vertical columns. His hair was parted and tamed with a sap stronger than any hair-gel he'd ever used back home. Each curl and wave perfectly situated.

He felt like an art piece. He wanted to walk right into the MoMA and present himself for gallery viewing. Even his shoes were snappy, so dark a blue they were almost black, with even smaller pearls across the tongue. After the outfit had been complete, he'd immediately bee-lined for Xabi, showing off the coat, and dropping compliments with not so subtle innuendos to the younger boy.

Edna Mode ruined the mood with instructions. Sip don't gulp. Raise your hands in the air like you just don't care. But actually care this time. Don't run away and don't ruin your clothes.

And then they were divided. And whatever euphoria Harper had felt at the snappy clothes and Xabi were immediately dashed as he was shuffled off into a room with the kid who's only wish seemed to be for his demise.

I don't like you but since we're stuck with each other we have to work together Harper thought in his head sarcastically, Kyle's voice distorted into an exaggerated mimic, My name's Kyle and I hate your guts and would kill you but I won't. Try to be more like me.

Skylar and Dorian should have made this better, but Dorian was off with Tallyho and his diamond majesty was hovering around his other friend for whatever reason, which only left Gwen, who through all these years he still hardly knew. He was surprised he remembered her name. For the longest time she was just The Asian Girl with the Knife.

If he could switch her out for Xabi this would be perfect.

But perfection rarely comes to those who ask for it, and right now Harper was painfully aware of how excluded he was. He wasn't sure if it was because he'd been spending so much time with Xabi, or if maybe this was how it always was.

But then his eyes focused on Kyle and Skylar. No. This hadn't always been this way. It used to be Harper and Skylar. For three goddamn years it had been Harper and Skylar. And he'd be damned if he let this blond kid with anger problems butt his way in between.

Besides, Kyle probably wouldn't punch him or anything now. That would ruin his clothes. The kid wouldn't want people yelling at him. Or so Harper hoped.

Grin starting on his face, he made up his mind and walked over to Skylar. "I don't want to alarm you," he said, hand on his hip, "But you happen to be in the presence of a great masterpiece. Behold!" He struck a pose, flaunting the jacket, "The Great Wave off Canandaigua! By the brilliant artist Hawkseye!"

Tallyho wasn’t so upset with Dorian after he brought up that hilarious memory. Tallyho was always very nonchalant after drinking, a quiet, somber, rather calm drunk. But Dorian…. Well it was a wonder he could hold his alcohol long enough for it to slither down his throat.
She smirked slightly, her eyes squeezing in the shape of sliced melons, squinted and joyful.
This expression fell however when Kyle joined the conversation. She didn’t particularly mind his entrance but she tended to be a lot happier when exclusively dealing those who she considered to be her good friends. Besides he could have very well spoken to Skylar who he had been obsessively attached to as of late. And perhaps that might have been the best thing to do as Harper began to butt in.
She rolled her eyes. Since the academy it had been increasingly obvious to Tallyho that Skylar liked Harper and that Harper only dealt with Skylar when he had nothing better to do, i.e. mess around with Xabier. And perhaps the reason Tallyho didn’t think much of Skylar was because all this time it seemed like she continually opened herself up to Harper and let him back into her life only to be tossed aside again and again like a piece of trash. At least that’s how Tallyho saw it, especially as someone who considered herself to be in the same (though not nearly as detrimental) situation with Xabier.
In the beginning she was under the impression that they were friends. But of course as time went on he would decline her invitations to dance with her and Falke, or refuse to eat with them. Not to mention his inexplicable distaste for Dorian. But whenever something major happened he wanted to insert himself into her life full-force only to drift away without a warning. It was artificial and Tallyho wouldn’t let herself play that game as long as Skylar had with Harper. She mentally separated herself from that relationship long ago.
And as Harper went on she couldn’t hide the way her brows furrowed, the way she cocked her head to the side and pursed her lips in disbelief.
“Harper,” she began, “what’s wrong with you? You and Xabier?”
That was the most she’d probably ever said to him in one sitting. And though it wasn’t a conversation she was a part of, as a woman she was getting pretty fed up watching this cycle.

If only she had just stopped after the first question.

But she hadn't, and whatever smart-ass response he would have pulled out died in his throat when he heard Xabi's name.

"Wr-wrong? With us?" he repeated, stammering, and laughed. Fake. Defensive. Walls up. Did she know? "There's nothing wrong with us." If anything, it was only the best with them, but he didn't say that.

He leaned as casually as he could against the table of food. "We're just bros...best...best bros."

Of course, with the lack of context that was Tallyho's mind, Harper had no real way of knowing what exactly she was referring to. Even thinking over the question again only brought up their supposedly secret relationship.

"I mean, there's tons of stuff wrong with me," he continued, plucking out some grapes with his tanned fingers, "I think we can all attest to that. He could probably write a book on it," he pointed a finger at Kyle. "But me and Xabi? Nah." He popped a handful of the small fruit into his mouth, shaking his head vigorously, curls dangerously close to coming loose again.

"Nothing wrong there."

He swallowed, and asked, voice still a bit high, but eyebrows furrowed in suspicion. "Why? Do you think something's wrong?"

"Bug off, scumbag," he growled and shoved the jerk away from Skylar. Fancy clothes wouldn't get in the way if he actually decided to fight him. At worst, he'd have a few wrinkles. That bastard was too much of a coward to do anything to mess up Kyle's clothes more than that. He proved his cowardice time and time again, in relationships and battles. Instead of respectfully pulling out of a relationship, he simply ignored the other person unless it suited him. Playing with hearts and emotions like puppets on strings. Kyle snarled and balled his hands in fists.

His head snapped up at a squeaky high-pitched word from Harper. "Xabi? Who's Xabi?" Eyes narrowed, he turned toward the increasingly anxious scumbag. Did that mean what he thought it meant? Xabier was Kyle's friend in their academy years. After the fire, Xabier started avoiding him with no explanation, and he still wouldn't explain himself. Kyle never called him Xabi. Could he be avoiding him because he was with Harper? Everyone knew Kyle hated Harper, and no one knew better than the people he spent most of his time with. "Damn Bastard!" He stalked over to the table where Harper tried to hide himself. "It's your fault!"

Skylar couldn’t remember the last time she had actually been this happy. Between the months spent at sea followed by their prison stay before the flock, she’d felt trapped. Even in the aftermath of their victory, she couldn’t bring herself to feel anything but empty.

But as the days passed, she found herself starting to act like her old self again. Her laughter became more genuine, smiles less fake. And while it would take a while before things were back to normal, she felt like she could finally live again.

Skylar watched with a bemused expression as Autumn happily pranced out onto the dance floor with Morgan. She could tell that the November warrior seemed a lot happier too, the thought bringing a smile to her face. Autumn’s positivity was one of the things she loved the most about her friend, and to see her back to her cheerful self only made Skylar happier.

It was Kyle who drew her attention away from the others, the younger blonde taking her hand and kissing it. She felt her cheeks flush at the unexpectedly blunt gesture.

"Are you sure you don't want to dance? Will you dance with me?"

A shrug rolled off of her shoulders as she nodded. “Sure, why not? I’m not very good to begin with, try not to laugh too hard!”

She considered the evening a victory, having danced with both Kyle and Harper without tripping over the skirt of her gown.
Things really were starting to look up.

-

If Skylar had thought that the previous night’s ball was extravagant, nothing could have ever prepared her for the next day.
Mildred seemed to have taken her already neurotic tendencies to a whole new level, doing everything in her power to make sure than things were perfected to her liking before the festivities were to begin.

Skylar shifted in her gown as she listened to the older woman’s instructions. She had never been one to play pretend growing up, yet all the fuss seemed to make up for the lack of sparkly princess costumes and tacky plastic crowns in her childhood.
The dress was beautiful, and she had to hand it to Mildred- she didn’t know how the woman came up with such gorgeous creations in such a seemingly short amount of time. The dress was an emerald green with a sweetheart neckline and a beaded empire waist, the skirt loose and flowing. The sleeves were capped and covered in the same silver beading, leaving her shoulders bare. It seemed to hit her in all the right places, accentuating her slight curves and fitting her perfectly (which she was incredibly grateful for- her hours spent as a human pin cushion didn’t seem to have been in vain). Her hair was fairly simple in contrast to the elaborate dress. Her hair had been braided to create a crown around the top of her head, a sparkly silver and emerald clip holding it together while the rest of her dark hair fell in loose waves down her back, smaller sparkly clips scattered throughout.

Skylar followed the others off to the waiting room, wishing that Autumn was with them as well. At least the separating of the warriors would finally give her some alone time with Harper. She barely saw him anymore, the older warrior always with Xabier.

In the midst of everything that had happened the night before, Skylar hadn’t even noticed that Dorian had left the ball. Catching the tail-end of his conversation with Tallyho (was it really eavesdropping if they were all stuck in the same small room together?), she gathered that he had managed to escape the festivities.

Kyle had been hovering around near her since they had arrived, offering to get her anything she wanted from the table of food. It was very sweet, and his behavior paired with his blonde hair reminded her a lot of a Golden Retriever puppy.

Skylar turned at the sound of Harper’s voice, lips turning up into a smirk. She did have to admit, he looked incredible- they all did, actually. Before she could open her mouth, Tallyho spoke up.

“Harper, what’s wrong with you? You and Xabier?”

It was surprising to hear the February warrior speak up, especially to Harper. In fact, it was probably the most she had ever heard her say to him.

Harper’s voice lacked the usual confidence as he stuttered out a reply, and Skylar tilted her head slightly. Before she could add anything to the conversation, Kyle was shoving Harper and Skylar was suddenly caught in the middle of the two water warriors.

She couldn’t say that she didn’t agree with Tallyho to an extent, especially when the slender blonde nodded in her own direction as she was addressing Harper. Skylar had never really considered the two of them friends, they had different social circles and remained civil towards each other, but it seemed almost as if she was standing up for her, saying the things that Skylar couldn’t bring herself to say out loud. Unlike Kyle, who was quick to show emotion in his voice, Tallyho’s voice remained flat and steely as she confronted the older male. She finished, simply walking off as if nothing had happened.

Skylar wasn't quite sure what to do or say next, biting down on her lip.

The party wasn't what he wanted it to be. Xabier was trying his best to hold out an olive branch to the others. If they wanted to accept then it was completely up to them. However, some people didn't seem willing to meet him halfway. Such as Autumn, the person who he hadn't realised he pissed off.

Sure, she danced with him and acted civil towards him but no matter how much it seemed,he wasn't an idiot. He could sense her disdain behind the friendly mask throughout his dance with her.
He was only being friendly but whatever.
Xabier inwardly shrugged at the discovery, it wasn't as if he was Mr Popular nowadays anyway.


Especially since he had no clue what he had done to deserve it.
Well aside from getting with a guy.... (And he thought no one knew about that, but he couldn't come up any other possible explanation)
But the majority of the Month Warriors were Earth born and/or Americans. He had assumed no one would make a big deal on that front. Though in the back of his mind Xabier was still afraid of Kyle's reaction. Even as he slowly made steps towards rebuilding the friendship the fear continued to cripple him. Anything could happen. He knew Kyle enough to know that gay or not, dating Harper was a no go.

Still he smiled and made polite conversation, occasionally dropping an anecdote about some funny family tradition back home. Even after the dance was over he made general conversation with the group. Smiling confidently, eye contact with everyone. It was only awkward if he let it be.
He made small conversation with Falke and quietly muttered a quick apology to Kyle for interrupting him and Skylar, following it up with a wink. At the end of the evening he smiled at everyone in turn and went back to his chamber.
Closing the door to his bedchamber his smile dropped instantly. He turned the mirror away from him again, undressed and placed a pillow on each side of the bed. Eyes closing, he could still see himself standing at the end of the bed watching as sleep carried him away.

The next day was more splendid than the last. Mildred had designed and had someone create a high collared shirt and matching dark navy suit. The colour of the suit was so dark that it almost looked like a shade of black. The Palace hairdressers had cut his hair and gelled it impeccably in place. He looked like a less eccentric Mr Gatsby.
Occasionally he would flirt subtly with Harper whenever he came over to show off his own outfit. It was a shame because no matter how hard he tried, Harper didn't seem to get the word "subtle". Xabier annoyingly liked him a little more for it.

Due to the warriors being split up into two groups with the only people he could talk to in another room, Xabier was stuck with people who obviously didn't want his presence.
He spent most of the time inspecting his nails and walking near the tables with the food, looking like the unwanted family member who just keeps turning up uninvited.

In the end he decided to just get it over and done with and approach Falke and Autumn.
His thoughts, if Falke was looking into his head, were loud and clear.
< I am coming over to talk and I don't care if you dislike me. We are in public so at least pretend you're happy to see me, I'll leave you alone again in a few minutes.>

"Ah hey guys, last night was quite fun, huh?" He smiled a smile faker than Pamela Anderson's breasts.
It wasn't the way he wanted things to be but it was clear that his genuine attempts would be immediately shot down.

His change of topics had apparently worked, Dorian thought victoriously as Tallyho awarded him with a slight smile, her eyes crinkling with contained mirth (he really would have to ask her what in the Hell he'd done that night, even if he was relatively sure it was a secret she'd take to the grave). And in that moment, everything was alright. Not perfect, of course not perfect, with his too-tight pants, the upcoming ceremony, and the fact that there was a palpable tension settling over the room, but sitting here with Tallyho and reminiscing, he felt content. This content feeling lasted all of ten seconds as Kyle's voice interrupted their temporary lull in conversation.

It occurred to Dorian then and only a handful of people wouldn't be particularly surprised that he'd left with Trent last night. Tallyho wouldn't, even if she disapproved, and Haru and Ryou were well aware of the fact that the General preferred Dorian to the rest of the group. There was something sad about the fact that his teammates had no idea what he was up to on a regular basis, and he wasn't sure if that was his fault for not advertising it or theirs for not noticing. Tallyho knew at least, even if he hadn't told her about the first hunting expedition with General Cress. She'd caught his eye at the shocking "hello" he'd given him at breakfast with the royal family, had attempted to do the same again when Trent had chatted him up at the ball for some time before whisking him away to a land of bar fights and booze. He stuffed the thought away, as he did with most of the many unpleasant thoughts involving the group these days, and turned to Kyle to reply.

Or, rather, to try to reply because before he could do much more than open his mouth to speak, Kyle had quite suddenly pushed Harper bodily away from Skylar and Tallyho was grasped onto the moment to say what he knew she'd wanted to say for a long, long time. It was like an intervention had begun in the time it was going to take for the ceremony to start.

Harper's response had Dorian staring at him in disbelief. There was something inherently insulting about Harper's quick and fumbled excuses. This was partially because Dorian considered himself a rather modern thinker who couldn't care less about preferences- and that was even before he'd spent such a long time with Ryou who didn't care to keep his fondness of the male sex any big secret- and also because he wasn't stupid. Did he really think that he and Xabier were that good at keeping it secret? That no one had noticed their little flirtations or that fact that they almost always ran off together? It was about as secret as the fact that Dae and Liam were probably already married or that Haru was constantly on the verge of actually exploding from a combination of anger and stress. Or, you know, maybe it wasn't that obvious if the way Kyle whirled on Harper meant anything. Dorian pulled himself to his feet, not moving towards anyone, but instead poised to react. Also, he realized as he tugged idly at one pant leg, standing was a whole Hell of a lot more comfortable at the moment.

Were they really going to start a fight right before the big ceremony? Really? Couldn't they at least wait until afterwards? No one would give two shits if they did it afterwards- or, you know, Dorian wouldn't give two shits at least-, but someone was sure to start asking questions if two of the month warriors came in with bloody noses or black eyes, and worse if Mildred caught wind of it.

But Tallyho was not to be deterred from her mission to finally tell Harper like-it-was, silencing Kyle with a steely voice and a sharp glare before advancing on Harper herself, her weapons words not fists. She wielded them with all the elegance and practice of one who's been keeping it all in for far too long. Two stabs were for the two people in the room frozen where they stood, Dorian watching in a stunned silence and Skylar biting her lip uncertainly. The rest were for Tallyho and others who had dealt with his antics in the past, a flurry of painful truths and burning hate tumbling from her lips. At last there was silence as Tallyho moved to the snack table, popping a grape absently into her mouth.

Dorian, who'd dealt with all of them long enough to realize that there were approximately three ways Harper could react to Tallyho's accusations if his past records meant anything, smoothly moved to stand in front of the door, leaning against the heavy wood with an elegance that came more from the way his outfit forced his body to move as opposed to any natural grace. The door was their only exit and as much as he'd like the situation to diffuse itself, he couldn't really have anyone storming off in a huff.

Harper was wrong.

Clearly it was Tallyho who could write a book on shit that was wrong with him.

His face was a mask as the blonde hurled flaw after flaw at him. Why this? Why that? Why why why why why.

For a change, he listened. Really listened to each word. Each black mark against him. He wanted to know what exactly he had done to the February warrior that had her so pissed off at him. Because as far as he knew, there really shouldn't be any bad blood between them at all.

And there it was. He'd stepped on her toe apparently. Or bumped into her. Apparently it was evil to be a basic human being. Or, in this case, to be him. Clearly the cyclopeans were nothing compared to him. He was the true evil here.

He'd been called worse things.

But it was the last few sentences that really pissed him off. How sure she sounded. If it was Dorian or Skylar, maybe he'd take them seriously. But this was from a girl he was hardly friends with, talking like she knew him.

Well, what the hell did she know?

His first instinct was to drop a one-liner and then make a break for it. But he heard footsteps, and his eyes slid over to Dorian, blocking their only exit. Eliminating that plan.

Harper hated confrontation. But he hated strangers who acted like they knew him even more. And while Tallyho wasn't exactly a stranger, she was certainly no friend of his. And in no position to act like she knew the first thing about him.

He swallowed hard, jaw clenching. He glanced at Skylar first. "Is that how you feel?" he asked, "Like a side dish?"

"And you?" he turned to face Dorian, "I can't call you friend because I don't push my nose into your business?"

He whipped back to Tallyho. Standing by the food. Eating. Like she hadn't said anything. God, what a bitch.

"That's a pretty in-depth analysis for someone who's said a maximum of twenty words to me over the past three years," he snarled, "I'm evil, huh? Is that it? I'm evil because I accidentally don't pay attention to you or where I'm walking? I'm evil for making mistakes? How about the time I taught you to swim, huh? Was that a 'lack of consideration'?"

He spat those words out, voice high in mockery. "You know," he continued, shaking a finger as he stepped towards her, "You talk about a 'lack of empathy', but who was it that called a fucking ambulance for your sorry ass after you fell out of that tree in the first place? Me, princess. And in case you still don't know, an ambulance is a vehicle with medics. And who was it that was telling everyone else to not crowd you? To give you space? Yeah, that was also me. But you probably forgot. How convenient. Wasn't that one of your evils? Forgetfulness? Oh, I guess that means you're evil too, now."

He rolled his eyes, voice dripping with sarcasm. He took a breath. He was a fast-talker to begin with, and anger added a heavier dimension to his words. Like he was stomping through the earth with his voice.

"And on that note, I didn't exactly see any empathy being thrown my way when I was having a panic attack up the mountain. You think I was freaking out because I wanted to? I have acrophobia! You know what that means? You know how he is in closed places?" he jabbed a finger at Kyle, "That's me with heights. I still have fucking nightmares about that, and it was three years ago. But I guess it's okay to not care about the guy who doesn't care about anyone else, right?"

"You want to call me evil?" he asked, throwing out his arms, voice back to a reasonable volume, "Fine. Soulless? I'll add that to the ever-growing list of shit I've been called in the past. Which, oh by the way, has a lot worse stuff. But don't you ever..."

And here his voice took a turn for the dark. The serious. No high tones. No laughter. No mirth. A finger pointed at her, the muscles arcing from his wrist to his cheek tight as a guitar string.

"Don't you ever fucking say I wouldn't care if you guys were killed in front of me! Because if that had even an ounce of truth to it, I would not be here. In this room. With you!"

He swallowed, throat raw from shouting. He felt like his skin was on fire. Red with heat. Red with anger. For a few seconds he let those words echo out, chest heaving up and down as he breathed.

"So here's a piece of friendly advice," he finally concluded, "Next time you want to read a bitch, do your fucking research and tell me something I don't already know!"

Like flicking a switch, he moved from Tallyho to Kyle. "As for you," he said, and he took a defiant step next to Skylar, "Don't forget that we were bff's before you even considered entering the picture. I've taken a lot of shit from you, but if you think I'm going to just let you boss me around where my bestie's concerned, you're clearly delusional. If I'm going to be a bad friend, I do it on my own terms. Not because some short blond with a hard-on for punching me in the face told me to."

He considered putting an arm around Skylar's shoulder, but refrained. Sheepishly. He knew those words from Tallyho had some truth in them.

"Oh, and for the record," he continued, winding down from the summit of furiousness to the valley of sarcasm, "Xabi is a nickname for Xabier. It's not that hard to figure out."

At this point, he didn't even care if he got punched. This time, he was going to return it. He'd already clenched his fist.

Well that had escalated quickly.

All Skylar had wanted to do was fake her way through the ceremony and then enjoy herself at the dance afterwards. She didn’t want to get stuck in the middle of some confrontation that could have waited until another time (preferably never- or at least until after their reputations were at stake).

Skylar had spent her entire life being pushed to the side, good only as a last resort. It had simply come with the territory of being born into a big family, the trait carrying over into her social life as well. And one would have thought that having dealt with that would have made her less likely to put up with anyone’s bullshit, but in reality, it just made it easier to cope with.

Some habits were harder to break than others, and sometimes history was just destined to repeat itself.

"Is that how you feel? Like a side dish?"

If this had been three years ago, Skylar would have said something back right at that moment. Stood up for herself and replied with a witty retort and a string of curse words. But a lot had changed in the years since they had left New York City, and she bit her tongue.

Sometimes you had to pick and choose your battles, and now wasn’t the time or the place for this battle. Not now, not right before they were all supposed to smile and show the entire kingdom how fucking perfect they were as the chosen Month Warriors (and especially not right before she was supposed to be the unfortunate middleman between Kyle and Harper).

“This really isn't the best time to have this conversation," Skylar said at last, her voice coming out harsher than she'd intended.
She shifted uncomfortably in her dress, suddenly finding it impossible to breathe beneath the stiff fabric.

She could see Dorian blocking her exit behind them, strategically placed right next to the door and preventing any of them for making a run for it. Dammit.

Oh no. Her little tactic hadn't worked, as Xabier walked up anyways,

Wow I am so sorry Falke. I hoped I could avoid stuff. I didn't mean to get you caught in it.

“Delightful.” She smiled back, not wanting to start a fight right before the big event. Besides, it wasn't as she had any real reason to be upset at him. It was jealousy that fueled her rage and she was self aware enough to realize that acting out of it was a petty move. Ok, maybe she felt a little bit entitled to her anger. Still, the least she could do was act friendly.

Apparently, this wasn't the case in the other room. Autumn was always informed. Spirits always communicated with her. She was well aware of the situation going on. If she could, she would get a battering ram and carry everyone out of there and into separate corners. To think that there was nothing she could do was infuriating.

“Son of a bitch...” She whispered under her breath.

“Sorry, got some bad news.” Her gaze was much less harsh this time. She wasn't angry at Xabier anymore. She was angry at Harper, and that would have to be solved later. In the shadow of what had happened in the other room, Xabier didn't seem too bad. Hell, everyone in this room was lucky that they only got stuck with a mildly awkward situation. Hopefully the other shoe wouldn't drop.

“Anyways, yeah. I didn't expect it to be that fun. Some of the nobles were a little stiff, and by that I mean I might have accidentally talked to a dead guy, but hey that's just part of life!” Autumn laughed, hoping she could turn the situation in this room positive. Having the entire group pissed off at each other would have been going too far.

All the words hit hard. But one in particular he reacted to first.

"You leave Xabi out of this!" he shouted angrily, "You leave Xabi the fuck out of this!"

The fist had been meant for Kyle, should the blond decide to attack him. But Harper was seriously considering Tallyho's proposition. Even if it would get him killed.

No. Especially if it would get him killed.

"You think I'm empty?" Harper demanded, "Predictable? Attention-whoring? That I coerced Dorian and Skylar to be my friends, because god knows I don't actually have anything substantial to offer? Well guess what? You're right! I'm a piece of shit! It doesn't take a genius to figure that one out. Even the things you aren't right about must be, since the great Tallyho said so. And she is soooo right, honey. You say I love to be observed? Sure. But maybe you guys just love to observe me, just so you have that one guy to judge, that person to point fingers at. At least I'm not like him. At least I'm not that bad. I'm the trainwreck that you guys just love to look at. Because at least it's not happening to you."

"Well let me tell you something, sugar. As much as you might hate me, as much as you might wish I was never here, at least you get to leave. You don't have to live 24/7 with me, with this asshole, with this shitty mind." He jabbed at his head viciously, "You get a break. I don't. You think I'm not self-aware? That I'm that clueless? I might miss the minutae of all my flaws, but I can see the big picture, at least where I'm concerned. If there was ever a "Who hates Harper most" contest, I would win. I will always win. Every. Single. Time."

"So go ahead," He stepped towards Tallyho, right up until he was inches from her, eyes locked, ocean against green. The maelstrom would feast on itself tonight. "Kill me. You don't need an excuse, but I can give you one anyways. I'd do it myself, but suicide is not one of the three things I excel at, as you so nicely pointed out. Besides, you'd be doing everyone a huge favor. Even Xabi would be better off without me, since according to Kyle I'm what ruined him."

Empty forest against empty seas. Draining and draining. He wanted it. Wanted it more than ever. That sweet release. Maybe in an hour he'd regret. Maybe in five minutes. All the more reason to do it now while he still had the chance.

Locked and loaded. "Has your father ever called you a waste of space?" he asked simply, voice hollow. Emptying himself. Preparing. "Ever said you were a piece of shit worse than shit itself? Has he ever said he wished you weren't born? That they should have aborted you after all? That he wished you would get killed on the streets, or raped in prison, or thrown in the electric chair? Probably not." He pulled the trigger. "You'd need to have a father that cared in the first place."

Mentally he started a countdown. If that wasn't enough to kill him by the time he reached five, he was throwing a punch.

One.

Two.

Three...

Kyle did back down when Tallyho pushed him back, surprisingly more gently than he did with Harper earlier. There was something in the way she held herself or the steely tone of her voice that scared him a little. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. His mind provided. There had never been any evidence that Tallyho ever liked Harper, but she obviously didn't have to like him to feel that scorn. She hated him from the beginning, just like Kyle.

"I have a billion things to do that you dumb kids can never understand" was Harper's first complaint, and he never stopped complaining about them. Harper was always a million times better than anyone else ever born, in his own mind. Tallyho hit him dead on. The only thing the selfish bastard could say was it's not my fault I'm such a lousy person. My daddy never loved me... blah blah blah. Guess what, Harper, I never even knew my real daddy, but I don't cry about it. He thought about saying that, but seriously his family history wasn't any of that bastard's business. Kyle didn't want any pity for it either, so why did anyone else in that room need to know?

The jabs that bastard kept throwing his way pissed him off more. Jabs about his fears, his friends, and shoving his previous relationship with Skylar out there like a weapon against him. Every single person Harper ever met was just a tool for his own purposes, a toy to play with until he got bored. Skylar didn't deserve that. Skylar never deserved it! Xabier was an idiot to be with this arrogant bastard, but Kyle didn't think he deserved being used and thrown away either. Obviously, Tallyho would disagree with him, but he still didn't want to give up yet.

"Who cares what your stupid daddy did? You, yourself are the only person responsible for your own actions. My daddy taught me that. If I do something stupid, I have to pay the consequences whatever they are. You too have to pay the consequences for your actions and choices in the last three years and beyond. Guess what? That's what your looking at right now. Me, Tallyho and everyone else hate your guts because of your own actions. We don't care about your daddy issues."

The shorter blond turned his back completely to the selfish bastard without throwing the punch that bastard was asking for. He refused to be played like the others. Instead he paced over to Skylar again who was obviously uncomfortable. "I'm sorry for putting you in an uncomfortable position. Can you forgive me?"