Crystallum

The sea breeze carried the echoes of a subtle thunder; signal lights on the tips of wings blinked steadily, as a jet came in for a landing. An opaque landing strip, only visible by the alignment of runway lights, presented a course straight to the immense mountain of light.

"This is your captain speaking: Please, remain seated and buckled in, as we'll be landing very shortly."

Various rays of light shined through the windows of the plane. Every crevasse was illuminated, as the window panes became overwhelmed with an ever shifting aurora of colors.

"You two need sunglasses?" A slim woman, dressed in uniform, approached Fedelia and the proxy. She was clearly startled by the blinding columns of light, as she shaded her view with one of her petite hands. "Luckily, this is a private jet. I'd have sore feet, if it weren't just you two." Her polite grin was no competition for the grand luxury of Crystallum.

Fedelia's eyes were glued to the view outside of the window. Her hand was pressed gently against it, and she could feel the warmth from the light pouring through the glass. She couldn't close her eyes. She just couldn't.

"I think this is the most beautiful place I've ever seen," she told Proxy. When the stewardess came up to them, she glanced away for barely a second. The elf actually smiled. "Sunglasses would only dim the view. I'd rather go blind from this." That being said, she turned back around to the view.

"Proxy, where exactly have you taken me? Why?"

The proxy hadn't addressed the woman. He was focused the light of Crystallum, just as well; a glare painted over the red tint of his goggles. "We'll find out, soon. I'm only the delivery boy."

The attendant spat a wink at Fedelia. "I gotch'ya, honey. I'll be taking my seat. We're going to touch ground in about ten minutes." She took her seat. Her tight green skirt caused a minor stumble along the way. She smoothed the skirt down, and finally took her seat ahead of the passengers.

The flight had been a silent one, until now. This man had removed Fedelia from a crumbling city, though she surely thought of that place as her home. "That place..." He repeated his thoughts. "Wing City is just a nest of flies." It was a brash comment, but the man remained as level as the threading of his suit. He drew a hand to his tie, and blindly straightened the knot. "You're safe in Solinus."

The plane began to descend. Meager amounts of turbulence followed; the jet angled down faster than one would expect, as on a commercial flight. The proxy cleared his throat to address his irritation, but nothing more. The runway would soon disappear, as would the beaming lights, when the plane circled to point directly at the Crstyallum.

She turned her head over her shoulder, looking at the proxy with a raised white brow. "Wing City is a place of crime, with monsters and heroes alike, with horrible and beautiful things, and more danger than one could possibly fathom. That there is anyone living there, surviving there, is incredible in itself." A smile came to her face, then. "But that's because not everyone wants to be safe. Not everyone wants to live a life without problems."

The elf returned her admiration to the window, palm soaking up the warmth. "I was born on a little farm. Our largest problems happened when a storm came. Those were my favorite moments. They didn't come often enough, though. So I went to find my own set of problems in Wing City." She leaned her forehead against the window.

"I fell in love with one of them. So don't you speak about that place as though nothing but terrible things happen. All the sourness makes the sweet things sweeter, and all the darkness makes the light shine more intensely. All the problems make the solutions more appealing."

The pilot held a steady grip on the yoke, as he coasted the jet downward. Upon that effort, the cabin of the plane had dimmed, and Crystallum's light faded from view of the passengers. The pilot now suffered the glory of the crystal mountain. He reached into his pocket, and put on his aviator sunglasses; in doing so, he scoffed at the sight of Crystallum. "No shine like the sunshine. That thing is gonna end up like the tower of Babel, someday."

Back in the cabin, the proxy perched his chin atop his knuckles. "Whatever you say." He remained lackluster. The man had completed his mission, and the Crystallum's light had even convinced him this was all worth it.

It wasn't five minutes before the jet's wheels firmly hit the runway. The cabin barely rattled upon landing; a mark of a fair pilot. The light caused a streaky glare to illuminate the exterior of the plane, as the glossy black panels captured the burning reflection almost entirely. The jet cruised along the runway, until the turbines powered down, which allowed the aircraft to come to a halt halfway along the runway.

"Alright, folks. We do hope you've had a nice flight, and we thank you for traveling with us on this fine evening. I ask that you please remain seated, until the stewardess escorts you out."

"Stay here for a minute," The proxy unclipped his belt and stood from his seat. He didn't make it one step, before the prudent attendant bee-lined toward the masked man.

"Please, stay seated, sir. Your pick-up will be here shortly." She pressed a thin hand against his shoulder.

The proxy used one astute finger to brush off the woman's hand. "Then, go open the door."

Her lips parted, as if she were dumbfounded at what to say. She glanced back at Fedelia, clearly embarrassed. "Uh yes, of course. My apologies. Please, stay seated, until they arrive."

She quickly swung open the door, and the platform ladder was lowered. Standing directly at the first step was an ominous black figure. It was wearing what appeared to be a sleek, black exoskeleton, lined with acid yellow lights. The outline of the being was male. He stepped up the ladder, and appeared in the entrance way. Armored from head to toe, the man dawned a black helm. An opaque tint concealed the wearer's face. He turned to focus on Fedelia and her guardian. The man stood idly by, silently waiting for their approach.

"It-It looks like you're all ready to go." The stewardess blinked anxiously, as she examined the newly addressed man. She immediately stepped off to the side to hold the door open.

The proxy studied the man from his seat; he noted how fully equipped the man was. "Looks like it."

The elf's lips parted slightly as the events transpired. She exchanged glances with the stewardess, her own apologetic. She had no idea what was going on, and no control over the situation. She got up and straightened her skirt, but hesitantly. She tried to catch the proxy's...gaze.

"What's going on now?" she asked, nodding her head toward the figure in the strange suit. "Who's that? What...is that?" She looked him over again. What a strange design. What in Terra was he preparing for? Her jaw set, and her hands gripped the edge of her shirt, twisting it. Two rings upon her fingers attaching to the bracelet clanked together.

The automaton stood by, while the proxy stood from his seat. "I'm not sure." He remained in front of Fedelia; he presented a defensive posture, as if to wait on the new persona to introduce itself.

"Liaison 69 Nero reporting and on standby to convene guests. Please, follow." The automaton's personal speakers droned each syllable in a robotic rhythm. His arm seemed almost stiff, as his hand essentially swiped upward to angle at the direction of the exit.

The proxy took a suggestive step toward the automaton to see how it would react, but it remained motionless and silent. His gaze didn't falter, when it came to the multiple guns on the unit's person. "You said you liked to live dangerously." The proxy reminded Fedelia. "Let's go." He walked along the cabin, and waited for the suspicious "liaison" to act out of turn.

Outside the plane, forming at the foot of the stairs was an inky, violet blotch of warped space. It swirled, as if was being churned by a vortex. In a matter of seconds, the space inverted and prepared to expand itself into a bubble-like state. There wasn't the slightest whine from the gaping portal, as it stretched into an approximate seven foot diameter.

The proxy's goggles caught he reflection of this feat, though he bared no excitement. "What is that?" He asked, nearly apprehensive toward the automaton.

"Teleportation via spatial manipulation." Nero responded with only a hint of politeness.

"...doesn't mean I'm suicidal," murmured Fedelia. Despite her doubts, she followed the proxy down into the cabin, also keeping a wary eye on the robot. Though she didn't trust the proxy at all, either, she kept closer to him. At least he had a reason to keep her alive, even if she did not know that reason just yet.

Looking down into the portal, the elf paused, fingers curling in towards her chest. She was ready to use her own telepotation at any time, though her fingers ached from the tightening springs already.

"Who are you working for, then?" she asked the robot, "If this man here-" Fedelia gestured at the proxy, "-doesn't even know who you are?"

Fedelia's face was reflected in the smooth surface of the helm, as he turned to regard her presence. There was no such signification of what this figure could truly be. A blue line of light flashed over the unit's helm. "Accessing data: Information classified. Denied access, until further notice."

"He's bound to silence. Guess we'll find out soon, though." The proxy examined the astute alignment of the automaton's body. He realized how perfect a structure this man had, causing him to wonder if this was indeed a man. The proxy eased down the steps, until he was finally standing directly in front of the whirling portal. He stared into the dizzying blotch of spatial distortion. It seemed just as ominous as its creator.

The unit waited for Fedelia to follow her guardian in suit.

The loyal attendant stood aside, squirming in the robot's unwavering shadow. "You guys better scoot. We've only got less than half hour to get this plane off the ground. This runway was just a courtesy, ya'know? It'll sink, after we take off." The woman poked her head past the unit's daunting shoulder. She provided Fedelia with a professional grin. She took a moment to eye the soldier in black, afraid to make any wrong move.

The elf did not like this one bit. Where was this portal going? What the hell was going to happen when she stepped through it?

"What's so important that I should do this?" she asked the proxy. "What's in it for me this time? What's stopping me from porting all the way back to Wing City?"

Other than the fact that the rings would snap her fingers off, that was. They had only just begun to loosen. She crossed her arms and stared them down, however. She would not show weakness. "I am at risk, here, going to places and doing things out of my control that I have no knowledge of! Two years ago I would have done this without a second thought, but I'm not an idiot anymore."

"I'll be honest," The proxy turned, calling back to the flustered woman. "Your safety is my main concern. This is all new to me, though." Standing at the foot of the stairs, the proxy found himself looking up at the soldier. "Not only that, but he could've taken us hostage if he wanted to." He pointed a finger and made a gun sign, targeted directly at the Nero unit. His wrist popped back, as if a shot went off. The enigma paid no mind to the gesture; he patiently awaited Fedelia's compliance.

"Point is, I think we're safe for the time being, and I wanna find out what this is all about." He shook his hand back down into his pocket, signaling his ease. "I might need your help, if this is all a sham."

"Clarification: Current accusation is inaccurate. Safely proceed for any further inquiries." The steady hum of Nero's robotic statements hinted at his diligent behavior.

Fedelia took a breath in frustration, breast rising from the action. Her stare became stern, and she inclined her chin towards her chest ever so slightly. "Fine," she said, just a above a whisper. "I'll go."

She turned heel, ready to teleport in a matter of seconds, and walked into the portal, unbeknownst of what was about to happen.

Not a word was spoken thereafter, as the three bodies seeped into the pool of space. The process felt similar to entering a body of water; heavy, but not so thick in texture. On the other side, pure glamour awaited.

A solid white room, white as ice, consumed the view of each eye. The room was chilled to a cool sixty degrees. The air was still and musty. An intricately carved bar was etched along the wall. Various bottles of alcohol were holstered, each kept cool in their own icy cylinder for proper containment behind the bar. Each shade of glass reflected off the smooth surface of the walls, adorning the room with a subtle aurora. The floor was powdered in ivory, and accentuated each footstep left behind.

Large, blocky columns supported the structure, as they ran up into the center of the ceiling. A chandelier drooped from the combined beams above, dripping with luxurious diamonds and crystal clear amethyst. It captured the many reflections of all those who looked upon its beauty. It brought clarity to the room, allowing guests to feel as if they were kings and queens.

In the corner of the room, a path of stairs, which led upward had enticed onlookers with a serene light. It was the exit into the many levels of Crystallum. There, a sudden shadow could be noticed traipsing down the steps. A mysterious figure, whose shoe heels clicked with each steady step. Without a grand entrance, this man alone had appeared too flamboyant.

The various tips of his hair seemed out of place, though somehow fit in-tune with his style. His broad shoulders were caped over with a sharp, black suit. A striped tie knotted his neck. And, finally the pointed footwear convinced the wearer of how haughty he really was.

The paleness of his skin had caused his curved cheeks, and smooth jaw to seem less fluent. If any eye marked this man, they would mark him a ghost. A lithe hand drew to the man's collar, his hand, and adjusted the tie. His fingers smoothed down his suit, as he approached the group.

The proxy and the soldier both stood by in silence. This man stopped at the front of only one individual: Fedelia.

"Well, what can anyone say, really? It's all a little silly."

Intimidation wasn't the word, no. Fear? There was a little bit of that, but it wasn't the strongest feeling she had at the moment, not by a long shot. What was it, this feeling...

Ah.

Shock.

Fedelia could not process things quickly enough. The situation made her feel as though she'd suffered a brick to the head. One hand rose from its place at her side to grasp the place where she felt her heart beating. No...not beating, but trying to wrestle its way through her rib cage like a little alien and burst forth from her chest. An abrupt outward gasp pushed its way from Fedelia's lips, breathing one word:

"Hatchet."

Her mind dizzied, if just for a moment, and she swayed in her spot. Her shoe clopped in a step backwards. She could not tear her large black eyes from his face.

"That is my name, isn't it?"

His eyes sprinkled over her figure so as to entice his memory. "Do you remember when we first met?" He inclined his head, as he carefully presented the question. His fingers twitched at his sides, as if they were stroking the fine lines of a harp. "I asked for a drink," He nodded slowly to hint at his recollection. His heels gripped the floor, as he turned away from Fedelia to stroll toward the bar counter. "Would you like one?" He leaned on the counter and flicked his finger at the various bottles.

"Sir," The proxy professed. Hatchet immediately pin pointed his gaze onto the source of interruption.

"Take off that mask, Sylus. You've reached the finish line." He leaned his back on the counter, slumping both elbows on the edge. He threw up his hands to address Sylus, further. "Follow that one. He'll show you around. You'll feel right at home, here."
Hatchet remained polite, for all it was worth, even though the proxy, Sylus, knew better.

The man did as he was suggested, and finally removed the gasmask. Underneath was a pale face, which was countered with dark, messy brown hair. "Whatever you say." His voice was clear, now. Like mirrors, his grey eyes conflicted with Hatchet's mesmerizing heterochromia, eyes of many colors. Though, there was a foreboding second of silence between the two personas, the Nero unit finally marched by in accordance with his orders. Sylus followed, mask in hand. He didn't pause to glance at Fedelia, but she lingered in his thoughts.

The portal soon closed behind them.

Fedelia felt any hope of escape disappear with that portal. That hand on her heart raised, slid across her cheek, and clasped over her mouth. It almost seemed as though she were trying to repress a scream, or even a giggle. Her skin indented as her fingers wrapped over her mouth more tightly.

W-what...

The soles of her shoes were hot-glued to her place on the floor. She did not brush the white bangs away as they fell into her face. For what was perceived as hours in the elves mind, she just stared. Just stared.

In what was, in truth, seconds, she felt her legs move. One step forward, and the other foot caught up, and then that stepped forward eventually, too.

"...why? How?"

"As the saying goes, 'if at once you don't succeed, try, try, try again.'" Hatchet winked at the woman; his mischievous habits still prevailed. "The 'how,' on the other hand," He lifted his hands, acting as if they were two weighing scales. "Interesting things occurred, while I was away. The supernatural aren't the only... supernatural ones around." His brows rose to reference his feelings of success.

He pushed away from the bar. He couldn't standby, as she had. "I've been waiting a very exceptional amount of time to see you, again." His shoulders swayed with every step, as he met Fedelia halfway. "Just a bit too long, in my book." His arms lifted to embrace her.

Fedelia stepped back, away from him. She tore her eyes away from his face, looking down. She could not, absolutely could not, look him in the eye when he tried to do that. Her shoulders hunched up next to her ears, and she turned to walk around him and away.

"Or perhaps too soon..." she mumbled between her fingers. "I didn't think you were still alive...or...around." She let her eyes sweep the magnificent structure around her. "Or...somewhere like this..."

Hatchet paused, and stopped completely in his movement. He seemed as a statue, until his arms suddenly fell limp at his side. "Oh, Fedelia..." Out of apparent despair, he drew a hand to his forehead, and sighed. "You still don't trust me, do you?"

"Who knows where I was?" He cooed, before allowing a brief chuckle to break the ice. "I've tried my best, since that night, to find the right time to be with you. You remember that night, don't you?"

He sauntered back to the bar, slipping behind the counter. "How about that drink...?" He folded his arms, as his eyes darted over the array of bottles, each one with its own distinct glow. "Brandy, perhaps? I have it all now, Fedelia." He made that remark with a certain sense of purpose.

"I don't know. Brandy always put me in bad situations," replied Fedelia, keeping herself turned away from him. Her hands grasped her arms tightly. She needed to get in contact with Mo so he could get Rick! This...this could be...great for the news. This could make her a hero.

With her fingers on her left hand twitching, she gasped at her skin more tightly, then leaned her weight onto one leg to turn herself around to stare into those heterochromic eyes. Her own dropped right there.

"Too clearly. It wasn't a forever ago."

"Huh, let's see." He pointed his index directly at one of the bottles, before sliding to his right. "Here," His arm seemed to flow like a gentle scarf, as he reached out to grasp the bottle of clear liquid. He let the bottle dangle between the crease of his fingers, before sliding to the left, reaching for another bottle. The smooth, dark red of this bottle contrasted his pale hands.

He set the two bottles on the counter. "Be right back," Hatchet suddenly dropped behind the bar. A few seconds past, before he reappeared at the other end; two grass green limes and a pair of cocktail glasses were in hand. "They're fresh." He rotated the limes in the palm of his hand, as a smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

The glasses pinged when they met the counter top. He prepared by slipping out a smooth, black thermos. Without word, he poured in a certain level of ounces from each bottle. The two liquids swished and swashed around inside the container, as Hatchet elevated the flow by lifting the bottles over his head for a quick second. Suddenly, he snapped on the lid, and began shaking the thermos. He swayed to the right and then to the left, as if he was dancing. His arms pumped, almost violently. Though, his expression remained straight and undefined by any emotion toward his minor performance.

The mixed drink flowed out from the thermos. The color was perfect; an olive yellow flowed into the glasses. "Now, here's the delicate part." He scooped up a lime, but he lacked a knife. The tips of his black nails had already dripped over. He bared his claws, fine enough to peel the surface of anything his eyes desired. His thumb hooked into the first lime. The digit merely smoothed over the citrus, and a thin spiral of green skin curled about Hatchet's hand. The lime peel was pinched between his increasingly sharp talons, as he laid it over the rim of the glass.

He pushed the drink toward Fedelia. His eyes smiled. He removed his cloak of please, and condemned the moment with a perverse smirk. "A classic Martini with a lime twist." He flicked the rim of the glass with the hooked point of his nail. A melodic ping hummed from the drink, as the liquid began to ripple.

"Enjoy, and please tell me if anything disappoints." He leaned over the bar to exhibit himself more clearly. "It's a Martini for your thoughts, after all."

Fedelia turned as she heard the light clinking of glasses. Her eyes settled onto Hatchet as he made the drink. The elf was very versed in that. In fact, it was one of few legal things she had ever done for a job. Her eyes glossed over in memory of all her days in Gambit's, mixing drinks, meeting people...falling in love for a night, over and over again. Her eyes focused back onto Hatchet, but the memories, the nostalgia, still lingered.

As his claws came out, peeling the lime, Fedelia's expression darkened. "Ah," she breathed, "That's what you had been speaking of all those years ago."

Her mind wandered to all of the things that she could remember that night. He had been so much different that first day. It was, perhaps, because they had been complete strangers. Was that how he treated all the others? In such a hostile manner? Maybe the fact that she had been so drunk that night made it all seem so different.

When the glasses were put down onto the counter, one pushed toward her, she switched a suspicious eye between Hatchet and the drink. Would he? She examined those claws. He would have killed her a long time ago if he had wanted to.

She reached her hand forth, dipping a finger into the liquid. She swirled the finger around, then slid it out over the glass, using the edge to grab any excess. Then, she plopped her finger into her mouth, closing her eyes. The appendage slithered from between her lips.

Fedelia waited.

Hatchet examined her closely. His eyelids leveled out; his eye almost twitched. His hand, placed on the counter, clawed into the crystal top of the counter. As if they were sinking into clay, his nails dug into the surface, until he had a solid grip. He realized how she threatened his composure with such sultry tactics, but he didn't care. He had followed Fedelia's delicate finger to the curves of her lips, as she taste the liquid.

Suddenly, Hatchet cleared his throat, trying to keep up with his thoughts. "Indeed." He replied, referring back to the subject of his abnormality. He finally snatched the thermos, quickly pouring himself a glass, and in-turn taking a quick drink to ease himself.

This suitor hadn't had the chance to unleash any desires. His sharp mind had restricted the instinctual bloodlust, and general lust, alike. Otherwise, he was quivering with undeniable excitement.

Hatchet looked away from Fedelia, lest he be overwhelmed any further. He stared into the shimmering pit of his drink, occasionally tilting the liquid toward the rim to entertain his stress. "I don't think I mentioned it, but I missed you."

When he looked away, one of Fedelia's eyes popped open. She moved to pick up her Martini with that same hand, delicately turning it in her fingers. "I can believe that," she said coyly.

I need to let Rick know I'm here, she thought, keeping up the act perfectly. She did not smile because she knew such a dramatic change of character might spark suspicion. She let her distress show through, but not powerfully. She balanced it all to make it as believable as she could. It was easy. Some of it wasn't all an act.

The glass was brought up to her lips, and the woman took a tiny sip. She was alright. There wasn't anything inside the drink other than what she saw him pour, and what she knew she saw.

"I suspect you get very lonely here."

There was a smile, a very certain smile, which led to a chuckle. He glanced at her, before pressing a fist again his brow. He began to shake his head in retort. "What does that even mean, Fedelia?"

He pressed a palm flat atop the counter, and galloped over the edge, as he slid over the smooth surface; his legs dangled over the edge and they couldn't resist swinging back and forth. "Once I saw your face," He finally slipped off the counter. His tight lipped grin mimicked that of a child's. "I completely forgot." Hatchet suffered a laugh at himself for how stale that line sounded. "Completely."

The pale man passed his attention onto the steps, which led up into the upper levels of Crystallum. They invited every visitor to explore this ornate palace. The light at the head of the exit illuminated the stairway, as if they were to heaven itself. "C'mon," He perked his eyebrows at the woman, before he strolled ahead. Hatchet's figure inflicted a shadow on the steps.

"Let's see if there's a way out." Hatchet extended his hand to Fedelia.