Continued...

Call ya in an hour byyyyyyyyyyyyyyye.

The casual reassurance had been entirely unnecessary, but the sudden flicker of text across his next to the crooked smiled picture of it's sender prompted the mild crease of a private smile. Even with their growing attachment, Charlie Nine had never seemed to show any concern over her profession, content to steal away the non-work moments she indulged with him and let things be as they were. He might have argued, if pressed, that what he received for free was of far greater worth than what other men paid for.

But that would have been too sweet for him to way, right?

The food he had so tempted Jen with wasn't his, but it was close by and held all the promise of the future. The premonition of a purchased treat, a just reward for the gift of her company, delivered in a heavy paper bag and a cardboard drink tray. Later. Of course, later. In the meantime, he would have been willing to while away the promised hour thumbing through a book at Panetti's Reads, chewing on a piece of a strawberry licorice. Idle, he could do, but...

Something is wrong.

The Little Boy's voice came unbidden, scraping across the back of his psyche with a sense of urgency that was entirely uncharacteristic of its brief existence in his mind. The hair on the back of Charlie's neck stood up immediately.

What?

Something's wrong. Very wrong.

It's Rhy'din. Something is always wrong.

No jokes, Nine. You might want to prepare yours--

Something in his stomach twisted when his phone suddenly came to life in his pocket, the familiar melody of Mulan's Girl Worth Fighting For telling him it was her and that, this soon, it couldn't be good. He freed the device up and swiped his thumb across the screen, pressing the phone to his ear.

"Jin?" He had barely managed that before the words and her crying stole away any further questions. She was upset. She sounded devastated. Charlie's expression darkened. "I'll be right there." He didn't need to ask.

She needed him.

Co'ba was off on a gallivant tonight, unsociable, unreachable, and of no use to his need, no matter how willing the great dark beast would have been to it's companion's need. In the end, Charlie was forced to exercise his own control over the Void, drawing in his focus and willing the real world to melt away beneath his desire; beneath his need to tear away the time and the space that lay between himself and the pretty little redheaded asian girl.

I need your help, she said.

Calm yourself.

I am calm.

His arrival outside of the Chateau Seaside was at a hurried walk, nearly giving the doorman a coronary when the stern looking bearer of the Red Opal materialized out of nowhere and moving with purpose. He blew through the lobby like a silent ghost, radiating a casual, calm malevolence that encouraged anyone and everyone to so suddenly be interested in anything else but him. In the end, FireStar announced his arrival outside of the room to IceDancer before he could even knock.

Charlie's presence registered somewhere in the back of her mind, a calming cool pouring forth in response despite cheeks blotchy with redness and warmth. She pulled the door open just as he reached it, one hand reaching to grab at the front of his shirt and hurriedly yank him into the privacy of a suite twenty degrees cooler than the rest of the hotel. The door was shut quickly, too quickly, slamming roughly against the frame as trembling hands fumbled with the locks. Her breathing was so strained that even her shoulders rose and fell with each inhale and exhale and for a few moments she could bear to face him, pressing her forehead to the thrumming wood paneling of the door.

Somewhere along the way she had straightened out her dress, the backless thing a bit too skimpy for public consumption but finally pulled into place in such a way that her goods weren't on excessive display. Hands balled into fists at her sides before she finally forced herself to turn around and face him. Indecipherable chatter created a dull din in the recesses of her mind, urging her to take care of the problem she had caused. He had caused. They had caused.

In short, Jin Chae was a hot mess. Expertly done makeup was a disaster, looking like it had been painted on by the pudgy fingertips of a drunken toddler. Smoky amethyst smudged at the edges of eyes red ringed from tears that cut a consistent path down cheeks stained with what was supposed to have been waterproof mascara. Crimson lip stain was smeared from the corner of her mouth along her cheek in a Joker-esque fashion that contradicted her attempts at rubbing away the cherry blotch from her skin. The icing on the hot mess cake was the slowly growing purpling of the delicate flesh of her throat, impossible to hide. The portrait that was Jin Chae laying in stark contrast to fairly innocuous crime scene around them. Save for the corpse, little seemed out of place. She snarled a hand up into locks newly tinted auburn, tangling fingers in the messy tresses as she turned a wild eyed look from Charlie to the still man on the bed and back again.

"I... I... it was an accident... he... I... oh my God, Charlie... what do I do?"

Continued...

When her eyes found his, dark on dark, he fixed her with a smile that was supposed to be reassuring. It might have been on just the wrong side of wooden, a more automated Charlie Nine response. But when he reached up to brush some of her hair aside, the smallest sliver of humanity bled through.

"Who knows you're here? Did he pay already? Is there anyone he needs to be in contact with post coitus?" Each question was plied to her slowly, concisely, as he led her away from the bed and move to sit her down in a chair at the opposite end of the suite. A low crouch kept them at eye level with one another. "Is he a regular customer for you or client for the agency?"

The quiver at the edges of her mouth hinted at an attempt at a smile that ultimately fell flat. Her gaze fell as well if only momentarily, her breathing slowing as she tried to process his onslaught of questions. It was a good reason to focus and she secretly thanked him despite the crinkle of her nose at his choice of words.

"I uh... he's a first time client, set up through work. Um..." Thinking harder, her forehead creased with consternation. "He hasn't paid yet... that comes after. Um we didn't really talk about... outside stuff. Maybe he's got a wallet or a phone or something on him?" Gaze bounced from the nearby Charlie to the far away john, back and forth, back and forth. Her hands rubs at her thighs, chilled fingers dragging over bare flesh until welts formed in angry lines of red. "Charlie... I don't know what to do... they've gotta have cameras out there... the chick at the desk saw me come in... I'm fucked."

"Do not look at him," he said quietly. "Look at me. You need to be clear headed right now if you want to help." It was a very pointed statement, a guiltless admission that he had taken charge of the situation and had everything well enough in hand. Reaching up, he drew a curled finger along the delicate plane of her jaw to draw her attention back down to him.

"I will check him for money and anything else useful. If he doesn't have the payment on him, I'll arrange to have it taken care of. I don't even spend my money on anything anyway." Slowly, he urged her to her feet and turned her towards the bathroom. "I want you to go get cleaned up. Fix or wipe off your make-up and flush everything. If you need to, take a show. Someone knew you were here so using the water and getting cleaned up post-work seems reasonable."

Leading her towards the bathroom, he dropped his mouth close to her ear, his tone stern but soft. "Just trust that I know what I'm doing, Jin Chae. All of this is very simple. I know what to do."

She gave him a bobbleheaded nod, wide eyes snapping back to his dark gaze. How could he be so focused in a time like this. She felt like her attention was being pulled nine ways at once.

Listen?

"Okay." Her agreement as much for the voice in the back of her head as it was for him. Focus zeroed in on the man before her. A hard swallow was like drinking sand but she gave him another slow nod, clumsily getting to her feet like he wanted. He had this under control. She didn't. She simply went where he wanted, did what she was told. Auto-pilot for the sake of getting through this. The glaring lights of the bathroom were evil, evil things, you know.

Be sensitive, Nine. You don't want to freak her out?

Charlie's focus was honed to a razor's edge, the familiarity of the situation allowing him to draw in and disseminate every little bit of information as it came in and decide what to do with it accordingly. He would have approached it all, in it's entirety, with all an odd combination of clinical detachment and professional pride, were in not for the niggling voice of the Little Boy insinuating little reminders of the asian escort's presence.

Jen flinched at the bright lights in the bathroom, prompting him to reach for the small dial just inside the doorway and twist it until a softer glow stole anyway any (or most) of the similarities to the harsher glare of a, say, interrogation lamp? He lingered behind her momentarily, tentatively venturing for another press of his body to hers in one last push for reassurance before he returned to the corpse.

Don't even think about it?

The giant of a man's face was spared little more than a fleeting glance, a quick confirmation of death that he reveled in, but disallowed him from sinking into the moment and letting an insidious imagination run wild with a dozen or more scenarios of what had occurred. Thinking about it would only fan the fire already burning deep in the pit of his stomach and with the behemoth of a man dead, there would be no one to talk it out on. Turning him over was a chore, but rewarded him with an expensive mobile phone and wallet that was full-to-bursting with credit chits from Star's End that were easily changed for coin in any number of local places. The agency would get it's money and Charlie would see that Jen received the rest, in one manner or another. He pocketed both items before untucking the sheet from each corner of the bed, moving quickly to wrap up and cover the body.

Out of sight, out of mind. There there, let them take care of it.

It should have been reassuring the way the calm, cool, and collected voice graced her in unison with Charlie's departure. In his wake, she nudged the door shut and rubbed her hands over her face, patting at her cheeks to further focus. The plush washcloths were perfect for use but left far too much behind and she settled on soft tissues to wipe free the remnants of what had been a rather picture perfect makeup job originally. Each cosmetic stained tissue was tossed into the stool and she reached an arm out of the bathroom long enough to grab her purse. Forgoing a reapplication of most makeup, she at least slathered on a coat of foundation to even her skin tone and decently cover the dark bruise around her throat.

As much as the sense of urgency implored her to hurry, she tried to take her time. The room outside of the bathroom may as well have been a whole different universe for all she tried to distance herself from it. After a few more drags of a boar bristle brush through her hair, she tucked it away, stole a glance around the bathroom and then slipped out back into the suite's main room. At the very least she had managed to put her game face on, uneasy neutrality etched precariously upon her features, dark eyes seeking him out upon her reappearance.

(Originally posted on RoH 9/29/2014)


She wanted to protest it, their parting, supported by the uncertain look she had ventured over a slim shoulder at him and the way she lingered there with the door ajar. It left him divided for a few moments, somewhere between the growing desire to warm her the frigid despair of her heart with more comfort and the instinctual need to begin whistling like the titular dwarves of Snow White fame. In the end, the solution was somewhere in the middle, where he drew the backs of his knuckles up along her jaw, tucked a lock of red behind her ear, and then gently shoved her out the door before closing it behind her.

There was work to do.

What? Aren?t you going to kiss the girl goodbye?

Shut up.

It would be the romantic thing to do.

Charlie snorted, a gesture that belied the conflicting feelings he felt.

No time for love, Docta Jones?

Did you just make a joke??

His response was to finally begin whistling, that catchy little tune that had become synonymous with merrily working the hours away thanks to the masterful minds at Disney studios. Somehow, even if the circumstances weren?t hers to suffer through, he didn?t think Jen would appreciate the spontaneous eruption into a jocular rendition of ?Hi-hoooooooo!?. But it was that very sound that filled the posh hotel room when he began.

You could use that extra money on the dresser drawer to take the girl somewhere nice... The Little Boy mused. You know, like a restaurant where they don?t let you take it home in a cheap paper bag or five you a cardboard tiara on your birthday? Her tagalong may not think much of us, but I bet even he was impressed by your little prom stunt.

Charlie ignored the teasing and shifted only a little for the rise of tingling warmth that raced up along his limbs. The money Jen hadn?t departed with was pocketed, along with the dead client?s mobile phone (it had been since turned off) and his wallet. The clothes she had left behind were scattered about in a pattern that could alluded to some risque behavior dangerously close to culmination. From there he had to work quickly, catching the bed sheet at its edges
and hauling the body up into an easy carry over one shoulder, moving towards the custom shuttered windows.

The eastern face of the hotel overlooked artfully arranged scrub forest, thick but not overgrown and barely illuminated by a few citronella fueled tiki torches that provided more ambience than useful light. With the transition from summer to fall coming quickly and it being so early in the week, the Chateau?s guests were more interested in availing themselves of the nearby beach or spending even evening out the more popular venues within the rest of the city, leaving the area fortunately unoccupied. He was still counting every step he expected Jen to be taking, stuttering out the count when he finally dropped the corpse four stories into a dense thicket of evergreen shrubs farthest from danger of any windows. He smiled for the faint sound of crunching bones, vindictively imagining the amount of pain it would have put the little redheaded asian?s assailant had she not killed him, before quickly making sure the man?s suitcase and briefcase were still in order, and poking his head out the door.

Empty.

You can hum Walt Disney all you want, Nine, but all I can I keeping coming back to in the shallower depths of your subconscious is the theme from those grainy old television episodes of Mission: Impossible you would snort at while eating K-rations before you pretended to make friends.

I?m not the good guy.

But you?re doing a good thing here.

I?m looking after my interests. Charlie scowled.

And your pretty Jin Chae, the pretty little ice queen in the making, is an interest?

... He scowled again. Shut up?

Oh. Right. Clandestine operations. I had almost forgotten.

...for that pretty little piece of asian ass?

Yes, yes. I know butt stuff costs extra.

Carry on, Nine.

Charlie skulked down the hall with clenched fists.

(Originally posted on RoH 10/3/2014)


?It?s not supposed to feel like this,? Charlie growled the words again, low but with enough force to cause them to echo down the alleyway when he exited the Outback. The fire that had danced dangerously along his hands and up his arms had since sputtered and winked out, allowing the night?s darkness to swallow him up in his retreat but did not abandon him completely. It lingered beneath his flesh, roiling through veins until it felt like his chemically enhanced blood would boil and destroy him from the inside out. He couldn?t tell if the raw, sharp thoughts were his own and real or a fresh wave of antagonism from the Red Opal, which was strangely silent since the overt bitterness of his departure. ?I?m not supposed to feel at all??

In another time, another place, he would have taken or left Jen in the aftermath of the nearly non-existent exchange the preceded her departure; another woman he could have easily broken or, more likely, ignored in the simple task of going on with his life. Or what passed for a life. Instead he had been assaulted with a barrage of alien sensations, of which only a few he had a personal familiarity with. They stifled all logical thought and stabbed at him like venomous barbs, poisoning at reason worse that FireStar?s jabs usually did, until his stomach was twisting terribly and his heart began to sink.

No, his heart wasn?t sinking. Was it? Hearts didn?t sink. That was a biological possibility!

The burning beneath his skin flared up all the worse, eliciting a gasp that Charlie was only dimly aware escaped his mouth and climbing from his hands and feet into his arms and legs to slowly seek out the core of him. Fiery pinpricks of pain cross over his shoulders and down the sensitive slopes of his collarbones, up over his stomach and rasping along his ribs. By the time it reached his chest, he had been driven to his knees, his backpack shifting under the angle and weight of it?s contents and falling to the cobblestone alley below with a rough clatter, an inanimate thing that was wholly indifferent to his plight. He kneeled there, wracked with a pain that he couldn?t tell if it was in his mind or in his body or both.

It?s your heart. The Little Boy?s voice resonated inside his head, filling up every space it could.

There?s nothing wrong with my heart? The words inside his head were lost inside the echo of the other?s.

It?s your damned heart! Shut up and listen, Nine!

The shouting seemed to seize up his chest harder, until Charlie was doubled over in threat of keeling over completely. His breath came in panting gasps and there were blurry motes of dull light floating in his vision. A sudden wave of nausea overcame him, threatening to liberate his stomach of the three fudge-dipped granola bars he?d eaten before fighting in the Outback that night, a dozen notions he couldn?t fully understand crashing against his consciousness like a ship being battered on coastal rocks in a storm.

Do you know what you are feeling right now? Yes, I said FEELING. I know, it?s probably difficult for your broken psyche to comprehend, but despite the popular opinion of some, you are not a robot.

You don?t know what y--

What part of shutting up and listening didn?t you understand? Before he knew it, he was curled up on his side, all but in the fetal position.

In addition to your system being in serious need of that drug you have to pump in your veins on a semi-regular basis, something inside of you in broken. And I?m not just speaking of your abhorrently tortured psyche. All of the stress recent events have put you under have broken something inside you physiologically and if something doesn?t give soon, you are going to be in worse shape than you are now.

You CANNOT go on like this. You are rapidly approaching a need to make a decision. A need to make a change. You may try to ignore what you have been doing with yourself; these people. The things you think when you look at them; when you look at HER. You can?t look at the entirety of the world through death-tinted glasses and maintain this sort of existence. It?s time to start acknowledging some things. Exploring them.

It might not matter? Jin Chae is upset with me. Very upset.

Oh, boo hoo, Nine. The Little Boy mocked him. Get over yourself. I?ve seen the way that girl looks at you and despite that coldly logical stick-in-the-mud calling itself the Blue Opal. Not that I?m not amazed she likes you, but that is a girl that WANTS to be chased. So figure it out and chase her!

But she? Charlie, despite the pain, couldn?t stand the idea of feeling so uncertain.

But she spends most of her free time with you.

But she trains with you over anyone else.

But she turns a sexy shade of red when you tell her she?s pretty.

But she still wanted to lay in the same bed with you after seeing how horrific you look without clothes on.

But when she was in trouble she? CALLED. YOU. FIRST.

Think, Nine.

The pain ebbed slowly, easing up until he was finally back up onto his knees and then, some moments later, was able to regain his feet. His retrieval of his backpack was ginger and it did little more than hang from his fingertips as he tried to navigate his way through the multiple sensations continually assaulting him. There was little mercy to be found, internally, but he fought for clarity in those intervening moments.

I?m going to let her down, he finally replied, when he was sure responding wouldn?t leave him on his knees and unfocused again. I don?t care about people. I could never have a normal life.


And she?s normal? She?s a magic flinging hooker who was going to let the Incredible Hulk ride her like a cheap donkey until he decided he?d rather try to choke her to death. There is no normal in this place.

There is no magic.

Really? Of everything I just said, you?re going to latch onto that?

It was a surprise, to both him and the Little Boy, when his temper suddenly flared. A nearby garbage can burst into flames.

I don?t believe in it. The bland concept. It?s like saying there?s such a thing as happy endings, heroes, and altruism. His frown turned into a scowl.

And love?

Shut up. He was suddenly beset with a wave of wet, and then dry, coughing. The backpack was slung over his shoulder when he finally started to move down the alley.

You have to start believing in something, sometime.

Why?

The Little Boy?s tone went from dry to almost? sympathetic. His voice lowered.

Because it?s become readily obvious, Nine. Now you have something to lose. And do you think I?m the only one who sees it?

Charlie didn?t have anything left to say after that.

(Originally posted on RoH 10/18/2014)




Three things cannot be long hidden: The Sun, the Moon, and The Truth.

I believe the quote is attributed to Buddha, but as Nine is far from being anything close to a believer in the omnipotent, I can?t put complete stock in the knowledge. But the words have a lot of merit and, when left to my own devices at times like these, I?m given free reign to ponder the situation and some of it?s more abstract particulars without the toy soldier gumming it up with his on-again/off-again indifference. I know he would like to keep telling himself that nothing has changed; that he is still a faceless, breathing automaton with his will limited to the whims of unseen masters. Part him still thinks he is the nameless who belongs to the nameless and that they are the only thing in the great, grand cosmos that given him purpose. To use and abuse and ultimately discard when his time is up. When you can look into the pitted, cratered mass of his memory, you could even believe he?s right.

But then again, there are precious few who can see what I see, limited as it is.

Like right now.

He all but carried her through the front door, stoically reassuring while she giggled and listened drunkenly to one side. It seems dealing with certain levels of head trauma is a lot like dealing with an alcoholic on a bender, but even if he wanted to admonish her for her condition, he didn?t.

I?m inside his head, so I know he really didn?t.

No one but be was able to see the way he deposited her gingerly on the toilet and took his time carefully stripping her out of the red and black spandex before using a wet washcloth, warmed with a touch, to clean away the blood and the dust and the dirt. She giggled a lot. She even propositioned him but was too distracted in her laughter to be disappointed when he ignored it. Or, more pointedly, pretended to ignore it when that little pyre in the pit of his being (through no doing of my own) told him that he wanted to give in. She was in nothing more than a shirt when he tucked her under the sheets and comforter, and I noticed that he doesn?t flinch any more when she reaches to touch his scars. She always touches his scars. And she doesn?t like there to be space between them when he spends the night. She crowds him immediately. He never minds.

Six months ago he probably would have tried to break her spine.

Instead he let her pass out in the cradle of his arms, a normally dispassionate creature by man?s doing giving comfort to the needy. He would call her fragile if we tried to talk about it. Like glass. But I?ve begun to wonder if maybe he really isn?t the fragile one and her the cushion. He continues to balk about the truth of his situation or, more succinctly, the truth of the possibilities. He still doesn?t belief in the possible so for him the truth is about fact. Evidence. All the things he can see and feel and qualify/quantify. He says he doesn?t believe in a magic, but he?s learning, slowly, about the magic of the chemistry of emotion between him and a select few. Like him, they?re cracked. Broken. Fragile.

Like glass.

He?s arguing less. Listening in silence more.

For him, I hope it?s enough, even if I?m sometimes terrible to him. For me, it?s a change at unlocking those doors long barred to the both of us in the deepest recesses of his psyche. To him, fire is still just a thing to destroy. If he?ll let me help him find the truth, maybe we can create a better way.

Maybe.

It?s a long time before he finally falls asleep. Strangely, it?s fitful.

He?s dreaming but I didn?t prompt it.

And I can?t get in?

$%&#. It?s her?

Nine, wake up. Wake up now!

CHARLIE!

8:36 PM


?You sure you don?t wanna come with?? Jen lingered at the door to the apartment, her petite body halfway out the door and leaning inwards with a coy smile and enticing bob of dark brows. When Charlie had told her to go home and get cleaned up, then dressed up, for a surprise meal, she had spent the next ten minutes trying to convince him to return with her to the Chae Fortress of Prostitude. ?I?ll let you wash my back for me. Come on, Charlie Nine. You know you wanna.?

The persistence in her offer wasn?t lost on him and the appeal gave him pause during more than one of her subtle pushes to get him to abandon his small apartment above the gym, but in the end it was a gentle hand that started that slowly began to coax her the last few paces to the stairs and a sideways sway that avoided a sudden counter on her part that could have been an attempt on the little redheaded asian?s part to get her mouth closer to his.

Did she just try to kiss him? Nah.

?I want a lot of things, Jin Chae,? was his gently plied protest.

Like that sweet babyback ass?

Shut it.

Hey, you were the one thinking it.

What we?re doing is more important right now.

Okay, the Little Boy considered. But babyback ass after?

?But right now,? Charlie almost choked on the words. ?I think you?ll enjoy dinner more. Go. I?ll pick you up in two hours.?

The small scowl that marred her otherwise pretty mouth was like a punch to the gut.

Looks like babyback ass is off of the menu.



That was twenty minutes ago.

The Little Boy hated it and said as much loud and often, but the cold shower worked miracles on the strange tension that had permeated his body all week. The bruises had faded with the passage of days and the frigid water stole away the discomfort that had remained, until he finally abandoned the icy cascade and walked naked out into the bedroom where he?d forgotten his towel. Either helpful or self-serving, the Red Opal heated his skin and his skin birthed thin widing tendrils of steam that eventually dissipated into nothing. Damp hair still clump limply to his brow, but the towel had been rendered unnecessary before he could even reach for it.

Dark slacks and a dark button down shirt would be sure signs that he was serious when he told her he was taking her somewhere nice, and he was sure the t-shirt beneath would be worth it?s weight in giggles after the trap had been sprung. He was still almost an hour and a half removed from her retrieval, but once he was in his street sneakers he had enough time to stop by that little flower shop in Old Market and?

Your shoes are missing.

I noticed?

I bet she hid them because you were trying to kick her out. That?s cold, Nine. Cold.

Har har.

With the distinct lack of furniture in the house, the closet seemed like the first logical choice. The first of the two in his bedroom was empty, like always, but in the second be found his favorite pair of street sneakers.

His sneakers and something else.

It was a nice backpack. Really nice. It had the look of expense, large but streamlined, and not as gaudy as most commercial brands. It?s logo was small and offered the gift of anonymity. Each compartment was opened and inspected carefully, and Charlie found that Jen had really figured out his tastes down to the smallest detail. It was compact for the space it offered. Utilitarian. It was everything he could have wanted in a new backpack, if he had wanted a new backpack. Had it been from almost anyone else, he would have left it to set in the closet forever or would have given it back.

But it was from her.

It was from her and there had to be a meaning to it.

What little he had brought with him to Rhy?din, out of the derelict wreckage of the ship and his malfunctioning cryo tube, he had been reticent to part with. From the oft stitched patchwork clothes that he had kept despite the fresher sets Jen had taken him shopping for and he?d balked more than once about the idea of parting with the old military knapsack he?d shown a fondness for. They were the only remnant of a life he was still clinging to, a life that was the only thing he had ever known. The only thing he could remember. The only purpose he had ever had. E would and did make sure of that. He was a tool, as she had so succinctly reminded him before the sun had risen on Monday morning. He was for using.

You can keep thinking that, Nine. Or you could look at the bottom of that nice bag and maybe reconsider.

What? oh.

He found the slip of paper first, dark brows furrowed in consternation when he couldn?t read the plethora Korean characters that spilled across the page and he tucked the seemingly verbose letter away in his pocket before turning his attention to the photo. He remembered that night, tucked stoically between the sisters and unable to wiggle free when the wandering photographer came by and offered to snap a photo of them for a few copper pennies. Charlie was barely smiling in that picture, far less annoyed than he appeared, but he could remember vividly the laughter that had passed between the three of them in the moments that followed and the way the pretty little bleached blonde asian clung to his arm on the long walk back to her apartment. He remembered the way she pushed her slim back against his bare chest and sang him silly little K-Pop songs while the moonlight spilling through the bedroom blinds made shadows dance across her bookshelf until it looks like the origami figures living there appeared to move of their own volition.

It was one of his favorite memories.

Or the petting zoo, when KC was bit by the llama.

Melanie leaning against him and laughing like a little girl in that mexican restaurant the night he won FireStar.

The way Grace was always so excited to see him, smiling big and calling out his name.

Sparring with Andrea. Verbally sparring with Gren and Jewell.

They were all among his favorites.

But that photo was a game changer. Or the offer of one.

Charlie cradled the fragile memento in his hands and retreated to the lumpy set of stacked mattresses that served as his bed. He wasn?t sure how long he stared at it, committing every little thing to memory before the Little Boy was clearing his throat at the back of his mind.

Nine, you?ve been sitting like this for over an hour. If you don?t leave now, you?re going to be late picking the girl.

Just another minute.

If you don?t leave now, you?re not going to have time to get to that flower shop.

You made your point. Charlie slipped into his sneakers and lurched slowly to his feet. He paused a half a pace from the bed and then finally turned back, leaning down to tuck the picture safely under his pillow, before finally moving towards the door.

Nine?

Yeah?

Wipe your face. Under your right eye, pal.

Oh. Thanks. He wiped a sleeve across his face, a single tear soaking into the sleeve of his shirt.

Babyback ass. Just think about babyback ass. That?ll make it all better.

October 28th


They will forsake you.

They were words E had used early on to refer to the growing circle of people he had collected once injected to the diverse social apparatus that permeated the flesh of the presumably lawless city state, specifically the vaunted Rings of Honor. The same words were a constant reminder, buzzed into his earpiece and thrown against his mind repeatedly like pebbles thrown against the glass pane of a window for clandestine purposes, with the most recent undertaking revealed with the expectation of success at all costs. Years of psychological conditioning, chemical control, and the more simple concept of familiarity had dulled the Red Opal?s influence to little more than background noise for all but a few fleeting moments at a time.

The effects were all but crippling.

And yet still, FireStar? the Little Boy, they fought back.

Background noise became a dull roar at the back of his mind the closer Charlie got to the Iron Fists Garden, a trek more reflexive than considered, that little voice growing in volume and intensity until he saw the first people. The pain of his injuries faded away, a dull ache lingering against the opal?s exertion of power and attempt to unburden it?s bearer enough to open his mind and, hopefully, his heart to reason. No, feeling. The real pain arrived in a sharp spike to his skull at the scream, the hammer?s blow of stolen will that allowed the Little Boy?s voice to arrive crisp and clear and loud through the veil of resistance.

You will NOT cut them off, Nine! You will NOT cut them out! You have come so far, for the love of all that?s (un)holy! This is not the only way. You have to know that. Look at them, Nine! Look at them!Look at their faces. Melanie. Jin. Hell, even Kimone and Hoi. Think of Andrea. Of Grace. KC. They will fight for you if you let them. They won?t let you go.

The words went unacknowledged, presumably, as their recipient sat silently with his teammates and so woodenly lent his support to the Mandalorian?s endeavors in the ring. The fact that her opponent was Anubis was worth the ignition of a recent memory, that flaming kick and the heated exchange that had followed, ending with his own claim on the Chaes and Grace. It had been a possessive choice of words then, disconcerting to anyone who didn?t know the one who had voiced them and the real mean that would far outstrip what could have been taken at face value. The tin man had a heart.

Had?

Charlie didn?t answer.

Fine. You?re going to be this way? Look to your left, pal. See that pretty little number with the red dye job? Take everything else away and still tell me you?re going to ignore HER! Look, Nine. Look at her. LOOK AT HER. She?s worried. She knows something?s wrong. She may not be highly educated but she?s no idiot. Are you going to just shrug her off? Do you think she?ll let you? Look at her and tell me you don?t feel SOMETHING.

Subtle, Charlie turned a veiled look to his right, seeking her face from beneath the comforting shadows his hood provided. Jin wasn?t looking at him, her face a mask of feigned jubilation and concentration on the back and forth of Melanie?s match. But for the fraction of a moment her beautiful dark eyes shifted, ticking towards him and then back, and he expression became temporarily unreadable. She knew something was wrong. She had known before that, really, but where she had been so ready to steal him away from the social depredations of the others before, she pretended to sway with the momentum of the crowd and created a little more space between them.

Something in his own mind, in the moment, marked him as potentially repulsive to her. Unsavory.

Broken.

She knows.

Rhy?din to Nine. Rhy?din to Nine. She?s not stupid. She knows something. She knows YOU better than you seem to think. It was very a mystery to anyone who looked hard enough that you?re a screwed up piece of work, you know. And she?s been given more access to you than most. The difference is, she sees what I do. Potential. Limitless potential, Nine.

What does your gloriously periditious benefactor see? Other than a means to an end. Jin Chae has come this far, despite Mister Snow Miser. I mean, sure, she?s probably a few guys double down on her V-For-Victory for funsies before, but think real hard on how many guys she?s actually let sleep in her bed with her. I?m inclined to say no. THINK. No? nonono. FEEL. Let it tap dance on your ticker for a minute because I?ll call you a damned liar if you say that girl doesn?t twist your stomach in all the best and worst ways at the same time.

He suddenly noticed the match was over and the girls were all talking, drawing Charlie up to his feet slowly, the spectral sway of his body barely perceptible as he turned the full weight of his attention to the physical and tried to will the Red Opal to silence. Hoi Mei was being, well, Hoi Mei and talking about food, more specifically, the Jade Dragon. Melanie was being, well, Melanie and sketching something of a protest over eating in public while at the same time affirming her desire to spend time around the team anyway. Kimone was going. Jin acquiesced as well.

And then he stumbled over his words.

The girls seemed to enjoy it, at least. Or likely not.

Go with them, Nine. They want you there. They like you, though I?m beginning to wonder why. Be with your friends. Your people, remember?

Instinctively and for the first time that night, he reached for Jin?s hand.

And it wasn?t there.

The eldest Chae, Best Chae, was already apart from and ahead of him, nothing more than a bobbing auburn ponytail and swaying hips threatening to fade through the exit to the Iron Fist Garden and to the streets beyond. She hadn?t waited for him, causing him to bite his lip inside the deepening shadows of his hood and cast a quick look towards the others. He had told them he would go to the restaurant with them, to eat, drink, and be merry despite the minor pall the team?s loss had endured with grace.

But just like that, he knew it wasn?t going to happen. Not now.

When Charlie exited the Gardens, he turned in the opposite direction. Away from them. Away from everything.

No, no, no. the Little Boy protested. Nine, everything?s going to be fine. Really. She?s just? she?ll? I? It?s going to be fine. Don?t lose faith?

You can?t lose something you never had, Charlie replied quietly. E, was right, I think. It?s only a matter of time.

Where are you going?

The apartment.

Why?

?

...Nine, why?

November 1st

Even when she runs, she never strays far. Before even the influence of the red and blue stones, I watched her engage in this dangerous dance with him. This abomination of flesh and science, a man built from the bottom up from a young age for one purpose and one purpose alone; terror. I watched hesitant reluctance melt into cautious flirtation and eventually something deeper than that, genuine caring. A few things are certain about the eldest of the Chaes, primary of most is the size of her proverbial heart. Caring to a fault no matter the masks of indifference and cynicism, she is and always will be the rock that plays anchor to many no matter how steadily she is chipped away by the damage over the years. How she has stayed standing for so long is a bewilderment not only for myself but many others as well. It is also a testament to the tenacity these children have shown in the face of adversity. Each of them, yes, not only Jin. Kenny and Morgan and even the ever distant Laine, they each contain a spark that is impossible to explain, all things considered.

But this isn?t about the others. They are not my charges, I need but one. And she is that. It pains me to see her suffer no matter the source, so to see her willingly subject herself to a situation that will only end in further pain or worse, I find it difficult to process. For instance, before IceDancer came into the fray, my contact with her was a near constant and I looked on as she played mouse to Charlie Nine?s cat, a perilous game to say the least. Early summer comes to mind, before the concrete jungle that is Rhy?Din became a sweltering prison of stone and metal and incessant heat. She ran from him, was it playfully or seriously, I cannot remember which. As the Outback faded behind her, he burst from the double doors in hot pursuit and while she saw not the look in his eyes, I did. Predatory and dark, he?s capable of unthinkable things and though it wasn?t the first time, I feared for her safety. She was breathless when he finally caught her, a snatch of slim fingers around a delicate wrist serving the death knell of the chase. Her thoughts were racing and we were both unsure of what to expect. The shove against the wall was enough to sap the last of her air from her lungs, a harsh whoosh expelled from parted lips.

Play time was over and her giddy light headedness had given way to apprehension and soon, fear. He was no towering foe but the way he trapped her between himself and the wall with lean arms caging her in on either side, I felt the rise of the primal instincts that exist in nearly every mortal I?ve known. And as he got closer and closer, I pleaded with her to run, to do everything she could in the name of self-preservation, but like a cornered bunny, she was rooted to the spot. He didn?t hurt her, not in the least. The scandalous brush of the tip of his nose up her neck and along her jaw instead served a wholly different purpose and the reversal of his path, this time with his tongue, was the final blow. Even with the tension broken by murmured words against the shell of her ear, I knew she was in trouble.

She still is. Months down the line as she has found herself more and more intertwined with the enigma of a man, I find myself further and further away from her reach. She strays from her studies but despite this, she?s closer to enlightenment than she has ever been. It has been an interesting transformation to say the least. Now as she watches over the swordplay below, reluctant to take a post down on the Arena floor lest she come too near the one she knows she should avoid, I feel the tension she carries, the uneasiness with her decision that tells me she could be blown one way or the other at the drop of a hat should a stiff enough breeze come along to free her from this tightrope that is just as likely to be her salvation as it is her hangman?s noose.

The last blow landed to eliminate Charlie from the tournament, one she hadn?t entered solely to avoid being in the same room with him longer than she had to be. There was no wooden smile for opponent nor caller, instead he laid his blade at the woman?s feet and took a hurried leave and Jin found herself torn between staying or chasing after him. He wanted space, and she would give it to him even if it left her stomach twisted in knots to see him leave covered in more of his own blood than should have been safe. She would stay for Grace, the wild haired valkyrie having reserved a special spot in Jen Chae?s heart. The girl had spirit, a refreshing cheer that reminded Jin that no matter how bad things seemed, there was always a reason to be happy. KC was working late so she took it upon herself to take Grace out for food afterwards, the dazed woman a little out of sorts until she snapped out of it halfway through their meal, terribly confused as to how they?d come to be at the diner.

It was a weird night to say the least.

Once she parted from Grace?s company, her path took her through Dragon?s Gate toward home and whether she realized it or not, she found herself standing on the street, looking up at the Triple A MMA gym with its little apartment up above. No key to be found, how she made it in would be anyone?s guess but the way her steps echoed inside told her that she was alone. If he wasn?t here, where would he be?

Help me.

Snort.

What am I missing here, BeerCooler?

?Charlie? You here?? She called out. Her path quickened, skirting her around the edge of the gym and for the stairs to his apartment. The further she went, the heavier her legs felt and by the top of the flight, it was as though her limbs had solidified into concrete. She paused, hesitant to even try knocking. FireStar?s presence was beyond the door though and if she was near enough to catch that sort of stream of consciousness then maybe she had no choice but to continue. Her knuckles rapped against the door, a hollow and empty sound that echoed momentarily and then died down. No response came, no shuffle of feet, no sound at all. A testing jiggle of the door handle proved pointless, it was locked.

Because locks totally stop you. Oh this should be rich.

With a roll of her eyes, Jin tested the handle again. She couldn?t rightly pinpoint the apartment?s equivalent on the other side of the shadow realm so she didn?t dare use it like she had for the sake of getting into the gym so how, exactly, was she going to get in. Not like she could kick the door in, Apple would be pissed. She couldn?t pick a lock to save her life either.

Ahem.

Something in her mind clicked and she placed her hand over the handle and against the keyhole. The cold that spread did so quickly and concisely, a steady stream of chilled and liquid that froze solid once within the lock. She felt the engaging of tumblers on their ledges and a twist of her wrist produced a soft click and the release of the lock. Jin was in.

Well that?s a neat party trick.

Gently shutting the door behind her, she stepped inside and found herself as alone as she ever was and the eerie echo of footsteps put her on edge as she cut a path down the hallway and for Charlie?s bedroom. Jenny could feel FireStar?s presence, as evidenced by the steady creep of chilly ambient air around her in reaction, which certainly should have meant Charlie wasn?t far. How wrong she was though, stepping into his room to find it utterly empty. Emptier than usual even. His bags didn?t sit at the foot of the pile of lumpy mattresses he called a bed but that wasn?t what worried her the most. What dropped her heart into her stomach was the leather bound book sitting in the middle of the bed. Charlie?s book. The one he never parted with for long and one he certainly never left exposed in such a way. Not when he knew she was around or his mentee Kyo, the strange little boy that he was with his coming and going, never staying for long. FireStar was there too and with a little bit of feeling out for the red rock, her attention came to rest on a nondescript lockbox. Simple. Efficient. Very Charlie like.

This lock didn?t pose nearly the fight that the front door had given and as metal snapped under the icy chill of her touch, she popped open the box and peered inside. Just as she thought, FireStar was resting in the lock box?s depths and with a tip of the container, it came tumbling out into her palm. In response, a biting chill permeated through her, even colder than usual.

?Play nice, you two.? Jin muttered as she sat down, setting the red opal on the bed and trading it out for the book. Turning it over and over in her hands, she wrestled with curiosity and respect for Charlie?s privacy, finding the two at odds with one another which lead to an utter impasse, the leather bound book resting heavily in her lap.

Open it.

?Okay, that was creepy. Don?t do that again.? She stared first at the crimson opal on the bed and next at the leather cuff that kept its azure counterpart secured against the inside of her wrist. To duality of their tones was enough to freak her out sufficiently and for a moment she set the journal down. It didn?t last long though and slowly her fingers crept back toward the book, index finger flipping the cover open. Scratched across worn paper in smeared graphite, Charlie Nine?s clinically precise handwriting filled page after page after page and mingled with drawings that could have given a photograph a run for its money for lifelikeness.

Jin couldn?t read a word of it. She went to close the cover.

Seriously? The answers you want are at your fingertips and you?re just going to give up like that?

Perhaps it?s better if she doesn?t know?

She has a right to know! Oh, you?d rather keep her in the dark, let her play the part of Ice Queen. What was that about conceal, don?t feel? What a joke.

Says the one who got himself locked in a box.

?ENOUGH. Shut up. Both of you.?

Silence. Good. Jenny rubbed both hands over her face and sighed. Both rocks posed interesting points, that much was undeniable. IceDancer with his steady logic and carefully collected calm aiming to protect her from God only knew what. FireStar with its desire to expose her to the truth, even if he sounded like a whiny child while doing so. Fumbling to free her phone from her pocket, she flipped through app after app until she found what she was looking for. If some day she was a gazillionaire, she would send this developer half of her fortune because wow, was it a godsend.

Page by page she held the phone up above the book, the camera flashing and clicking with each button press, dedicating the secrets contained within to the trusting translator, one Jin relied on often to help her understand just what she was trying to read. Maybe some day she would take the time to learn how to read and write Common. Today was not that day. Once transcribed, she watched the magic unfold as it poured over the pictures and played a lilting and disjointed robotic read out of just what the words said.

Game pieces? talk of Melanie Rostol? E? Clarice?s death? was that a picture of Jin? It was. From the first night she had made him watch Mulan. By now she had put him through that ringer at least a dozen times. Charlie?s fear of hurting her or others? E... his love/hate relationship with Gren Blockman? monsters? had her seriously watched her sleep? Really, of everything in this book and that?s what you take issue with? It continued? an entire entry all about her, like she was some strange case study for him to report on? and another? more and more about their interactions, his perspective laid out on paper for her viewing displeasure.

"She?s unsophisticated. Uneducated. She likely comes from terrible genes and represents a minimal contribution to the future." Ouch. Is that really how he saw her? She kept listening. The promise she made to him, to never let him forget? the trade in turn that he?d never hurt her? and then his questioning of just who would be the first to break their promise. It was a question she had asked herself many a time. The robotic reading voice passed to the next scanned in page, droning on in a pitchy monologue. It outlined Charlie?s writings in a detached way that completely contrasted the welling emotion that had Jin feeling as though her lungs had been filled with lead.

He insisted he was a monster and before long, the entries proved that. Theft, kidnapping, arson, torture, sabotage, rape, murder, genocide. He had done it all. Maybe IceDancer was right and she didn?t want to know. No, she had to keep going. She had to keep listening. Talk of serums and promises broken? of her inability to be around him after she had asked him to help her dispose of her client?s body? of his desire to punch Gren and Peaches for daring to imply that maybe, just maybe, he could be the good guy. Jin had thought so. At least while she wore the blinders afforded by blissful ignorance. There was further discussion of magic? another mention of this E person? and then there was one last entry. It read of hopelessness and despair, a longing for something more and an inability to obtain it. It broke her heart. She slammed the journal shut and tossed her phone halfway across the room. It tumbled to a stop, still playing the last lines of the final entry.

?I want to freeze it in my memory and carry it with me into the dark.? The empty silence that followed indicated the end of the read out, greeting her with nothing but the sound of her heart pounding in her ears. Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum didn?t make a peep. For every answer the journal had given, two questions had come to mind. Her head ached, her heart hurt, and the room spun but she scooped up both FireStar and the journal, tucking the former into a pocket and the latter under her arm. She needed to find Charlie Nine.

The present had come crashing back in when Jin broke the silence, as guarded in her tone as she had been in her postured, yet shattered the proverbial ice when she asked: ?Why did you leave your journal and FireStar behind??

Yeah!

?Shut up,? both of the Opal Holders said in unison.

It did, however, give Charlie some time to think and consider his response, though not much. But she didn?t deserve anything other than the truth, obscure as it was.

?Because I was prepared to leave everything behind if it meant protecting you and the others. What it costs me doesn?t matter in the end.? It was an awkward admission but he didn?t balk at the delivery, resisting the temptation to wring his hands together like a guilty child about to be scolded. ?I?m not very good at this caring about people stuff, but you?re important.?


Jen?s expression softened at that and when she finally closed the distance between them, reaching out, he had assumed she meant to gather him into her arms for some small measure of consoling. Instead, she punched him in the arm. Hard.

?Idiot.?

Yeah!

?Shut up,? they said again in unison.

The questions rolled on beneath the weight of the red-headed asian girl?s curiosity, from questions to prodding statements that were met with (sometimes) unsatisfying results: Who the %$&# is E? One of the things that made me what I am. My beginning and, likely, my end. While I?d do anything to protect you and the others, I also have to protect you from her. Even if it means sacrificing what I have built for myself in Rhy?din. Give me this E bitch?s number. We?re gonna have a ?talk?. No. Very no. Then I?ll find her myself. Why do you like mustard so much? It?s better than mayo. Ask Gren. Hrmph.

It had dissolved into an incohesive series of verbal jabs and feints, delving into the superficial and then the serious and then back until she had finally gathered her hands together before her and pushed them against his stomach, lifting her chin up to stare him in the face boldly.

?What do you want, Charlie?? She was afraid and fearless at the same time in the asking.

?I?? He had paused after beginning, having initially thought he knew until the question had finally been asked and rendered him speechless for a short time. Charlie gathered those thoughts together like the gossamer threads of some errant spider-web, as delicate as they were strong and drew them down into a cogent thought.

?I want to believe that I am something more than a tool to be used,? he said softly. ?Something more than a conscienceless monster. I want to believe that there is something about me worth remember, that I can be someone worth remembering, in spite of myself.?

Jin?s lips compressed into a thin line.

?How do I make you believe?? She asked.

?I don?t know. I?ve never believed in anything??

?What else do you want??

But before he could speak, the Red Opal wrested his attention away.

Don?t think about it. Feel it. Remember that moment, before we met, when?


* * *


Blood money.

You're an odd duck, Charlie Nine. You show such a placid demeanor, limned with subtle hint of coyness and social naivety, yet you spend so much of your time trucking with whores and murderers; outcasts and martyrs and soulfully confused. You've spent so much time trying to maintain such a low profile, yet in the last two weeks you've crippled three men and minotaur, horrifically maimed an ettin, and through their failure to best you ensured a lifetime of slavery for at least four other men. And for what...?

To impress a girl?

It wasn't the most posh carriage that Rhy'din had to offer, with it's gold enamel paint chipped and flaking in places, stolen away in bits when the breeze rolling inland from the coast grew persistent enough. It's cushions were lopsided and lumpy, frayed in a few places and threatening to expose the fluff beneath the surface. It wasn't nearly as flashy and flamboyant as the Bentley limo that had brought the girls to the Outback. But the carriage's driver looked dapper in his old top hat and still managed a charming flair with the easily ignorable stories he told to his passengers (or no one in particular); loud enough to hear but low enough to ignore when the island music from some local festival reached them from the fringes of elsewhere. The cost his services, it seemed, lay in the honest-to-God black unicorner pulling them along, resolutely noble despite the demeaning task.

It was never meant to be a ride for two and while Charlie was coaxed away from the from readily enough, he had hesitated at the carriage before a little coaxing drew him within. He had even been quiet through so much of the ride, watching Jen's face in the ambient streetlight as they traveled along and making a keen study of the subtle changes in her expression as her victory finally started to sink in by degrees. Once or twice, at the sound of the music, he named off the instruments but stole back into silence when they were eventually forced to walk barefoot down the beach to the final topper to the enigmatic Charlie's prom gift to the pretty call girl.

It was a two-story weekender, like something out of Malibu with large glass sliding doors/windows, and a canopied second floor balcony that overlooked a wide open sundeck. The curtains had been open wide to reveal the softer glow of a few interior lights.

To think, she had almost avoided the entire evening under the guise of loathing prom. It had been a bitter internal struggle, one that involved plenty of back and forth but ultimately the tournament had won out (along with KC's taunting and teasing maybe) and surprisingly, she wasn't disappointed. The summer night's warmth never quite touched upon her skin, a steady chill having settled within her ever since her departure from the Outback and not only was she walking away with one of the prestigious titles (and the only Opal she'd ever coveted) but also she had somehow convinced Charlie to go with her. Two wins, one night.

No, no, she didn't have the usual prom night usuals in mind, honest. But if there was someone she'd like to spend the evening with to celebrate, it was him. Uneven cobblestones made for a bumpy ride, every crack and pothole felt against the wooden wheels of the carriage. A real freaking carriage. She even curtsied for the driver as they exited the ride and she slipped out of her shoes, hooking straps around her fingers to carry the sky high heels for the last leg of the journey. As the beach house loomed over them, she bit at her bottom lip to try and contain the excitement. Between the lingering sheen of victory and that of twin moonlight refracted off of the water, she was practically glowing as she walked backwards toward the place, grinning at her company.

"This was legit for me? Like for real for real?"

His own enjoyment of the moment was muted in typical Charlie fashion: that lingering smile and a calm stare that were, in her company, only a thin veneer of the face he showed the world. Beneath the surface he couldn't have truly explained the meaning the evening and the current moment had for him, but it was the third time in less than five minutes that the rewarding smile he received drove him to distraction.

They were like a pair of broken mirrors hanging in the same display, with the unforgiving wonder of Rhy'din serving as the backdrop for their endless potential. Or stagnation. Or destruction. It was the ugly beauty of the realm. There were no absolutes.

He didn't answer the question right away, smiling his way through an internal battle and a Dante moment ("I wasn't supposed to be here!"), before slowly brushing past her and mounting the steps to finally open the sliding door. It revealed a winding trail of paper animals, a circus-like procession of origami delights that disappeared around the first corner and into the kitchen.

"Someone had to get to be the Princess of the Prom... or whatever it is. I chose you." Because &%#$ voting, apparently.

Somewhere on the trip up the steps and to the door she had formulated her next smart alec quip for the stoic Charlie in hopes of prompting a bit more of a smile out of him. All of those words slipped right out of her mind though with the swing of the door. Some girls wanted trails of petals, Jen was not in that group. This? This was perfect as evidenced by the press of a well manicured hand over her mouth and a crinkling at the edges of her eyes. A quiet laugh was stifled and her gaze bounced back to Charlie.

"I didn't need to be Prom Princess or whatever but this is amazing, Charlie. It's beyond perfect, thank you..." She trailed off with a rock forward onto her toes as if she had considered closing the distance between them to hug him before she thought better of it and rocked back onto flat feet. The smile remained though and she tucked an errant strand of blonde over an ear. "So yeah um, thank you. Yeah that."

"I wanted to do something nice for you," he confessed benignly, "that didn't involve french fries and stolen movie discs." Because, afterall, you couldn't steal chauffeured limo and carriage rides, and houses on the beach.

For the tense passage of moments Charlie almost withdrew into himself, pondering the strategic dive behind the wall of psychological programming and practiced ease that punctuated the significant majority of his existence. Because there she stood, girlish and vulnerable and threatening to (unwittingly) use that very charm to peel away another layer.

"There's a paper castle around the corner," he said, ruining the surprise but possibly making all of his previous paper cutting sessions seem a little more sensible in retrospect. "I, uh, hadn't expected to be present, so there's a list of the things I had the place stocked with." She hadn't hugged him, but a gentle touch of her elbow urged her across the threshold and deeper into the belly of the building.

"I like french fries and stolen movie discs." She said with a quirk of the corner of her mouth teasingly. "But for real, this was wonderful." Her teeth tugged at her bottom lip and she leaned to one side to try and get a look at all she could inside the house, not quite ready to push herself over the threshold. But the brush of digits against the cool flesh of her arm coaxed her into motion and she stepped within, beckoning him in after her with tilt of her head and a grin.

"You honestly didn't consider coming with me afterwards?" One brow arched as she gently set her heels down just inside the door before padding barefoot around the corner to seek out this mythical paper castle. Her sensory system had been suitably overloaded by the night's end and for a few moments she was sort of grateful for the almost auto-pilot-esque way she took it all in. It meant not thinking, at least not too much. That is until he inevitably answered and set her confusion in motion once more.

Her grin was rewarded with the slow curl of a deeper smile, something reminiscent of other times they'd stolen away from the prying eyes of the dueling social circles. A few crinkles on his expression hinted at a small amount of delight for her admission before the question drew his brows down and together in faint consternation. Like before, he didn't immediately speak, instead letting her soak it all in.

The paper castle (http://i259.photobucket.com/albums/hh289/LynnVieh l/OrigamiCastle.jpg ) had been fitted with tiny lights, the only thing to illuminate the kitchen island on which it sat. A small train of chocolate bars led the way through it's gates.

"I considered it," Charlie finally admitted when her back was to him, drinking it all in still. "But I mentioned being your date on two occasions and your reaction led me to believe that you might not want or need the distraction. I know you worry about... complications. And, well..."

"...I'm not very good at reading people I don't want to or intend to do something unpleasant to..."

She scooped up a little paper bear, letting it accompany her on her exploration of the paper menagerie the lead her to the kitchen. An up and down motion of her arm let the bear fly through the air because flying bears are majestic as ****. A momentary falter had her lingering in the kitchen doorway, dark eyes alight with pinpricks of light in reflection of the origami castle all aglow. A soft giggle, something strangely girlish slipped free as her fingertips danced over the chocolate train cars, letting the bear come to rest on the front most bar. A bend of her knees let her examine the whole set up closer and she leaned here and there to take it all in even as his quiet words made their way to her ears.

"I'm sorry for being confusing..." For that admission, she avoided his gaze, busying herself with memorization of each fold and crease that sent paper spires high up from the island. "My aversion wasn't to you or you as my date. Just more like...prom as a whole. High school wasn't that great of an experience and it was sorta something I missed out on. The prospect of reliving what were pretty terribad times just didn't appeal." She hoped her explanation might sooth him, perhaps it would make up for her indecisiveness and inability to flat out say what she had wanted to in the past. Finally she looked his way once more, rescuing the bear from the chocolate bar line.

"Despite all of that, you were perfect, Charlie. I should've just bucked up and asked you once I decided that I was gonna go." She paused a moment thoughtfully, gaze cast upon paper paws of the inanimate object in her hands. "Was my fault. I'm sorry."

"Like I said," his shoulders rolled slowly in a shrug. "I have never been very good at reading people I didn't intend to harm. Were I better, I might have been more persistent in my pursuit of it." The touch he leveled to her shoulder was reassuring, if not brief. "In the end, there's nothing to be sorry for. I'd venture to say that the only thing I missed out on was the limousine ride to the Outback."

"Apology not accepted." His mouth twitched just a little when he finally slumped into a light lean against one of the counters, his interest in his own creation nearly non-existent next to his perpetual study of his companion. Her expression. Her tone. Her body language. "You smiled. You danced with me. You asked me to escort you out. Is there anything I missed out on, otherwise?"

People I didn't intend to harm. His phrasing sent a faint prickle of unease along her arms, resulting in a brief wave of goosebumps that were just as quickly gone as they had arrived, sent into a rapid retreat by a glancing touch between friends. It was a fleeting warmth of sorts and she lifted her eyes but not her chin, watching him for a moment through a veil of mascara laden lashes. Ever the fidgety sort, she toyed with bear, setting it down and picking it up before finally gently placing it on top of the tallest tower of the castle like some furry damsel in distress.

"But wh--," She caught herself at much the same time she caught the hint of a smile, equating it to a tease even if she had been wholly genuine in her apology. "Don't forget I punched you a few times..." She added, as if no night was complete without a few Jin Chae stingers and an exuberant haymaker to the chin. Sure he had exacted plenty of his own retribution but in the grand scheme of things, pointing that out didn't serve her quip too well. Sobering momentarily, she shrugged.

"Feeling like you were wanted there, with someone. More than just a supplier of rides and corsages and after events..." She made a mental note to consider looking into just how he had managed such things. "I dunno, it's dumb. I'm overthinking it. I was glad to have you there, Charlie. That's all."

?You were quite impressive pugilist, Jin Chae,? the offer of the words was playfully solicitous but lacked a tone either patronizing or sarcastic, though it would have fit his often dry wit. Charlie himself reached off to the right, freeing a long strip of paper towel from it?s holder and quickly beginning to fold it in an all too familiar fashion (it was his version of fidgeting) while she fell awkwardly into a broader explanation.

Extra scrutiny went into the intervening moments, his brows furrowing in deep thought as if the extra effort would somehow enhance his ability to divine a greater understanding of the meaning behind her words. He found what he was looking for in small degrees: the small crinkle at one corner of her mouth that might have implied minute amounts of chagrin; the faint dip of her own brow giving up the smallest bit of contrition that had never been asked for. For a fleeting moment, barely perceptible, Charlie?s eye twitched in the eternal conflict between his dual nature, resisting the urge to capitalize on the weak moment to do what, he had no idea? But it was all part of the greater Game and the impulse was battened down and prisoned away.

But her words? They were enough to coax something significant out of him.

?I don?t think like other people do,? he offered to the space between them, finding a place just beyond her right shoulder to fix a distant stare. ?Don?t feel like other people. I?ve been told I?m not supposed to feel at all. And I may not be terribly good at understanding you, the nuance and the undertone, but I did what I did because I wanted to. And I?m? glad,? he struggled for the word, but when he found it, it was genuinely delivered, ?that I did. And glad for what came of it??

Awkward Charlie was being awkward, but sweet.

?I?m always an impressive whatever you just called me.? Fingers fluttered, a grin ghosted across features that had been solemn only moments before, only to sober once more as she took in his reaction. It had been a rare moment of bare vulnerability, one that more primal instincts had told her to avoid with such a man as this. Maybe some part of her thought she could fix Charlie Nine, a being so inexplicably broken that she found solace in his company knowing that yeah her world was fucked up, but it was pretty screwed for others too. Like maybe she could throw him that proverbial life preserver when he seemed like he was fading into the background, away from consciousness, away from humanity. Some other side of her basked in his presence if only to escape from the judgment and stares and questions proffered by others. The normal people out there. He saw her differently and that, that is why she felt she owed it to him to make sure she did the same in return.

Awkward and strange, socially deficient in the grand scheme of things, no, she didn?t let it bother her and instead for his admission, that little sliver of Charlie less guarded, she rewarded him with a smile, slow at first but soon quick to blossom on lips no longer glossed for an evening of dancing and sparring. A lift of a hand followed, the backs of fingers trailing against the fabric of a his jacket, a touch that would just barely press the material underneath against his arm. Just as quickly, she withdrew with a slow fall of her hand to her side.

?I?m glad you?re glad and I?m glad you were kind enough to do what you did.? She said softly, a wholly genuine admission though it shouldn?t have come as a surprise. Had she known the lengths he had gone to make the night happen, she might have found a word other than ?kind? to describe him but the sentiment would have been the same. ?It meant the world to me.?

?Pugilist,? he repeated with a small quirk of a smile. ?A fancy and archaic term for someone who fights with their fists, like a boxer. You said yourself once that you?re a brawler and you are, but you are already showing something more. You?re making the Dance your own.? It was subtle encouragement, delivered with the muted sweetness that had become commonplace in their friendship, even if his expression could have (possibly) been compared to a Sith Lord?s approval of it?s apprentice. Discomforting to the wrong eyes.

His expression changed when she finally reached out to touch him, dark eyes shaded further by the limited light and dipping along the expensive surface of his jacket to focus on the delicate application of fingers, fleeting as they were. Those were the kind of moments that stretched out over an immeasurable eternity, the monster and the man playing the part of the unstoppable force and the immovable object in a struggle for control that was near incomprehensible. The lives of thousands like her could be laid at his feet, tens of thousands, and more unlike her besides, the healthy by-product of the pinnacle of man made horrors. Horrors of which Charlie was one. But it was hard to think of being that thing in moments like these. He remained dimly aware how easy it might have been to attack her demure show of vulnerability, breaking each little delicate finger with quick twists and shattering her hip with a viciously thrown knee. Hobbled as such, it left her open to?

No.

But it would be so easy.

NO.
But in an impressive display of her own strength, she drew away and exploited a chink in his proverbial armor that he was still too stubborn (or brainwashed) to acknowledge, drawing away and creating a more respectable amount of space between them. Maybe it surprised her when his smile suddenly faded into a little frown that was punctuated by the sudden fall of his gaze to her bare feet. The intensity of his disappointment was shocking, the youthful enigma so accustomed chasing away even the most simple intimacy from others now lamenting the distance. It was enhanced more so by the soft application of her voice, a lullaby for the dreamless, listless beast, soothing away the dull ache she never knew she created an coaxing a slow pan of his gaze that lifted up the length of her until dark eyes met again.

Charlie smiled that small smile, private and reserved for some of the more important moments.
?If I were a good person, this is the part where I?d play at modesty and profess I would do this for anyone.? Was there a little chagrin there? Maybe. ?But I?m not a good person. I?m a thing of foul purpose. And you?re not just anyone. I share with you more than is wise and, disconcertingly, I?m okay with this.?

As if to put a greater measure of truth the statement, Charlie undid the cuff of his sleeve, tugging it half way up his forearm and offering her his upturned hand. It was a silent invitation to take it, to touch him, and enjoy (or not) the small advantage she as being given over so many other curious parties.

That night he showed her a secret. The first of many and she was still the only one?

November 3rd



What are you doing?

The Little Boy?s voice might have been inside Charlie?s head, but he couldn?t resist conjuring up the image of the Red Opal?s manifestation looking over his shoulder like a curious child. He had been sitting on the little island in his kitchen for the better part of two hours, legs dangling and swaying like a child?s to the tune whatever Nell had playing on today?s edition of Turn Around Sound as he tinkered with the host of three-dimensional digital images he had produce from both ominitools. A bright orange image spun on it?s axis in one palm while the matching tips of the fingers on his opposite hand manipulated it in places to his satisfaction. He pretended not to hear the query until it was repeated twice more.

?Jin Chae will be facing the half-orc Jake Thrash in the arena soon,? he said aloud. ?He is larger, stronger, and more experienced than she is, and despite his perceived good nature it seems possible that the nature of his genetics could still produce a savage reaction when they face one another.?

So? She?s not defenseless and it was her choice to challenge him over anyone else? And you can?t be in the ring with her.

He couldn?t counter the point, dark brows knitting together pensively when he spared another glance down at the schematic in his palm. ?Agreed, but I can do this.?

Gesturing with his fingers, Charlie expanded the holographic image to a large size. As he did so, tiny lines of pixelated energy extended from it and spawned copious amounts of text that provided a number of explanations for the image. It was the silhouette of a female body, very specific and a shape that he (and the Little Boy by extension) was intimately familiar with. Overlapping the outline in various places were fresh additions to the body, slowly covering it and spawning more text-based explanations until it was all too apparent when he was working on.

Really? You?re going to do that for her? The tone was an odd mixtured of dry humor and piqued curiosity.

?I?m a realist,? he snorted. ?And I?ve seen enough to be well aware that I can?t always protect her, no matter how much I would like. There?s some battles that Jin Chae will have to fight on her own, like this one. She?d likely be offended if I tried. But that doesn?t mean I can?t offer her some protection. Some defensive edge.?

There was a short bout of silence, allowing the drumming of his heels on the cabinets and Nell?s voice in the background (Hey, was that Grace on the show with her?) to fill up the lull in the conversation, before the Little Boy spoke again.

It?s not that I?m not somewhat impressed that you?re letting your ticker do a little of the driving here, Nine, but that is a lot of tech to be hunting down and you don?t even believe in this other stuff, remember? So I?ll ignore this one part over here? but where are you going to get the materials for something this involved and who is going to put it all together?

?I left a message with Kruger at his shop, asking him to meet me in the morning to discuss the details of him making this happen. This is, to some large degree or another, his forte and I have seen some of the things he?s done for Andrea. I would imagine that if he can?t do this, and in such a short amount of time, then no one can. Money I?m not worried about.? Part of the Red Opal?s question had, of course, been ignored. It hadn?t gone unnoticed.

Nine? where are you going to get the material? Some of it?s?

Charlie grimaced.

No. Are you insane? Okay, forget I asked that. This is madness! Ugh, forget I said that too. It?s suicide. The infernal thing pulling your strings watches you close enough as it is, Nine. Do you think you?re just going to waltz right into her den and raid the Armory for the rest of your old stuff? Seriously. You?re going to get yourself killed!

?No I won?t,? came the guarded reply as the images winked out of existence and he slipped off of the island to move towards the bedroom. ?I?ll succeed.?

Oh, really? The tone was droll. Am I missing some incredible detail here or part of the plan that?s going to allow you to easily win the day here?

?I never said it would be easy. It?s going to be hard. But I refuse to let her down.?

...

Well, if you?re going to pretend to be a superhero, could you at least put on some pants before you march us into danger?

(OOC note: This is posted with many thanks to the player of Kruger, who wrote it, and all the credit in the world should go to him for this piece!)

Time was short, would it ever be any different for those who came to him? There had always been great need for them. Kruger understood this above all things, it was something inherent in people to wait and see. To hope that the need wouldn?t arise, he knew better though. That?s why he was so successful. The need would always arise for his services. The difference was that he could serve them so much better if they came at the beginning. It was Charlie Nine this time, not that the who mattered really. He was coming not for himself but someone else.

Jin Chae knew little of what Kruger was beyond those fighting rings. What she knew was what he allowed. Others knew and had come to him for such specialized items before. This time it would be armor. Kruger would do the job, he pushed everything aside once Charlie provided him with the necessary supplies. Kruger would spend the intervening time studying, drawing out his thoughts and ideas. Those would become the blueprints, measurements scratched onto the pages that he?d need to build to. He hoped she?d appreciate the skill that would go into this making.

Leave it to Charlie to give him something that probably should have been turned out by Batten Industrial. He?d do the job though, it would be his own defiant thumbing of his nose at the Ranger. Truly he didn?t hate Batten, truth is he admired the man and his accomplishments. However, Kruger did have a problem with how quickly Batten was able to turn out his equipment. Not because of anything other than the assembly line process. Everything that came from Kruger was touched by his hands, created to the apex of his skills. It wouldn?t matter in the end. Batten?s machines would compensate for the wear to bearings and moveable parts making the last pieces as precise as the first, and just as inhuman.

He was deep under the city, few knew this place. He told only those he trusted most of his underground facility. It had grown beyond a simple forge now. Would Charlie be surprised if he saw the extent of what Kruger the smith had wrought? Not at first perhaps; Kruger stepped onto the platform ninety meters above the floor and still far beneath the high dome, halfway between Heaven and Earth despite being underground. That was due to the fresco in the high dome of the night sky. Stand above the dome on the surface and the sky above would be the exact same that appeared inside that dome.

Kruger spoke one word and the entire forge began to hum with power, there was a cruelty in the smile on his face. It was a far cry from what he?d ever show to those people in The Arena or Outback. The darkness was diminishing in a soft pink glow as around the entire forge crystalline conduits vibrated with life and lit up. In the depths of the forge a clicking sounded as a great multirod pendulum began to swing. It had a full three hundred sixty degree arc possibility and was probably the best physical example of Determination Chaos that Kruger could think of. The bellows began to breathe life into the forge, they moved in time to the smith?s breathing. Heat rose black from the coals and the scent of brimstone permeated the air once again. The smith stepped forward, fingers caressing the intricately carved anvil and base. He began to feed the metal pieces into the coals, lifted his hand and pulled down a heavy hammer.

It was time that had him moving, but knowledge had his finger working, his tools creating. The songs, they didn?t understand what it meant to him, what it meant to creation. He knew but he refused to talk about it to almost everyone. One knew, one had helped him to see. Others would benefit from what he knew and they did not. Sweat poured from him, but he worked on knowing beyond everything what Jin required.

Some armor was meant to stop cutting, others to pad blows. Jin would need the best of both worlds for this. She would need everything the smith could provide. He could hear his song as it wound those spirals up to the top of the dome. He could hear the shuddering of the quantum barrier preceded by the tearing which preceded the opening of the tunnel. Now he was set for working on the level she would need. Kruger shaped the bits and scraps of metal provided by Charlie. He?d needed to determine which were meant to turn edges and which to accept kinetic damage. These he used to create the shell of the armor. The inside would be even more kinetic insulation. This designed to channel energy outward along the entire section of armor and away from the delicate form within. It wasn?t invulnerable, but it could take a pounding greater than anything shy of a full grown dragon.

Sandwiched between those layers was an alloy that was unfamiliar to the smith. It was already at is greatest potential. The smith needed only to cut it and shape it; a blade making it through the outer shell would be turned by this layer. How else could he protect those vital areas on Jin and keep them looking young and pretty? Those bits of crystal throughout the forge were so much more than just pipes to direct the elements of his forging. Kruger had recently had a rash of shattered conduits that needed to be replaced, these he had crushed into a fine powder. Those bits were still linked to the neural network that had been created from their counterparts. At his thought they began to grow and form circuitry. Charlie?s request had not been an easy one. The smith hoped he understood what he was getting bound up into a suit of armor. Slowly piece by piece the smith hammered and joined the layers. Leg armor grew, chest plate took form and the smith sang on telling the metal and the crystal within exactly what he needed.

Around the left leg at the ankle coiled the long scaled length of a water dragon?s tail. It expanded and rose coiling around calf and thigh. It transitioned around the hips and waist finishing upon the chest plate. A great head looking at its four clawed limbs which held a Yeouiju. This orb was unlike anything any other artist or armorer had made though. Its shape was that of an opal, and Kruger had every intention of JC inserting her opal into that spot, and imbuing the armor with the very abilities of the opal itself.

Upon the gauntlets appeared the faces of a Go Dokkaebi, one face for each gauntlet. The Red devil was known to be a trickster, but it was also known to be a great fighters and weapon handlers. Kruger believed that Jin would need to be able to call upon those skills. Upon the Pauldrons which would protect her shoulders a pair of Haechi appeared in that same not quite pink color of the crushed crystal. Their forms were somewhere between a lion and a watchdog with a great wide mouth and a horn in the center of their head. These guardians were said to stave off disasters and even eat fire. Perhaps the smith saw such a need for a wielder of Ice Dancer.

The helmet was small, designed to fit Jin?s head only, it would cover her entire face, head and neck and had a dark transparent alloy that had Kruger?s interest peaked. A heads up display would be visible to the wearer. It was a shame that was all he had been given. In great pink design upon the dark metal was a three legged bird or Samjoko, and its power was said to be greater even than the dragons. Inside the helmet a neural web existed, receptors were visible upon inspection and would tie Jin?s thoughts directly to each piece of armor. Kruger brought all the pieces together upon the same work bench and pink crystalline circuitry reached out of the places where they would join together and connected. They seemed to pull the armor together tightly leaving the full suit lying on the work bench.

The smith pushed a button seated in the spot where a belt buckle would occupy. It was a set of three spirals curving inward, one in red, one in yellow, and one in blue. They wound around each other in a shamanistic symbol that represented respect for ancestors. The entire suit began to retract into itself layers folding over one another. It folded until it was a tiny backpack in the shape of a nine tailed fox. The padded shoulder straps had a five point connector, the very center of that connector was the red, yellow and blue swirl.

13DEC2014



There is significant aesthetic appeal to be found in this time of night. The torches and lamps flicker the brightest in the hours before dawn, burning bright against the black in a natural defiance that that sings to my baser nature. It is in those fires that all are tested; the good man and the evil, the righteous and the unrighteous, the learned man and the instinctual beast. In that light, guttering against the darkness, any and all can and will find out who they truly are, for better or for worse, a wedding of necessity. It is a crucible in every sense, from the metaphorical to the literal, from the severe test that makes or breaks a spirit to the melding of various elements to create something new and great.

Creation in destruction. From destruction.


That?s very poetic. Is that your plan for him?


You are assuming I care. My continued presence in his life is entirely by his own choice and whatever skill he possesses, should his will remain strong and his current circumstances not see his light snuffed out. My curiosity will likely only last as long as my time with him does. And I sate that, more often than not, through you. By letting you pursue your agenda, I get what I desire.


So should I be thanking you for my existence? The question was dry, but the pained curiosity in the undertone was unmistakable. Should I have Pinocchio build an altar and burn some incense in your honor for me?


Don?t be droll. You know what you are, even if you don?t know why. But that?s your purpose, isn?t it? The discovery of why. You are the fire that was smothered in the darkness and replaced with another flame.


Silence.


You know it?s true. So many truths elude you, and the boy, but you cannot deny this one even if you don?t know wish to reconcile it. You are the voice of the lost.


He?s dreaming right now, there was less certainty now. Worry. Regret. They aren?t pleasant ones. That malevolent bitch is playing with his head again, trying to pull on his chemical strings. She would have him destroy. She would destroy him. Us. Look at him. It?s making him restless. The distress is making him sweat. She?ll pick him apart one string at a time until he?s a pile of pieces.


Then push him to be harder. Push him to be better. He was sloppy last night. If he can?t win at a game then he lacks the edge to survive. Maybe he should let that little girl of his fight his war for him. Unless her interest wanes with the diminishing of his success. It would be logical and, the Cold One notwithstanding, she seems like the type. She?ll become bored with him.


I think you?re wrong there, Fairy Sparkfather. It was all too easy to become defensive.


Passion for a price is no real passion.


Then why can I feel her arm tighten around him right now? He was thrashing in his sleep, tense, and she reached for him. Her lips on the bare skin of his shoulder are cool, reassuring on skin that we?ve made feverish. She could roll over so easily right now and wrap herself in the stupid Beer Cooler?s blanket of Ice Queen bitchiness knowing he?d be none the wiser.

But do you hear that? Listen to her. She?s whispering to him.

?It?s okay. I?m here. Sssh. I?m here.? Can you feel that? More kisses. The chilly nip of her nose as she pressed it reassuringly into the crook of his neck and hits him over and over again with sweet nothings. He won?t remember any of it. He wouldn?t likely understand it if he did, but I think the girl?s invested. Or at least I hold out hope she is, even if I?m not always her biggest fan. But that?s probably more your influence that might, eh?


Silence.


What? Not gonna wax poetic or be a hardass.


You need to push him harder.



I?ll take it under advisement.


Who said you had a choice?



Jin was all but an extra blanket for Charlie when he woke with the rise of the sun, her naked body half draped across his in a loose but possessive curl that had ended with her head on his chest. It hadn?t been the first time and she had confessed once with flaming cheeks that she found comfort in falling asleep to the sound of his weird, weird heartbeat. Her breathing was soft, even, and punctuated moue that was hard not to smile at. It made the discomforting dreams from the night before fade into the haze of morning light spilling through the curtains, temporarily defeated with the curl of fingers around the shell of her ear when he pushed some stray strands of auburn away from her face.

She had chased him from the Iron Fist Garden the night before, followed that deepening connection between them, that something, knowing the dangers it entailed. She had pulled him from that busy nightclub almost an hour later, amidst the angry thrashing bodies of a fight he?d picked. The chiding that had followed had been accompanied by the cooling magic kisses (maybe Grace and KC were right?) across his battered knuckles and bruised flesh and made him dance with her beneath falling snow of her own creation until a single smile was coaxed out of him.

They didn?t talk about the fights, sanctioned or illegal.

She didn?t push. Not this time.

Instead she let him lose himself in her. In them. In the moment. They had fallen asleep, sweaty and in a tangle of contorted limbs.

Intent on letting her sleep, Charlie eased out from under her and off of the bed with one final trail of kisses that traveled up over her bare sternum and ended with a meeting of mouths that caused her to stir momentarily, the subtle and mutual curl of tongues that made him believe for a moment that he?d disturbed her rest. But no sooner had he broken it, she curled back into the billows with the cross of arms over her middle and a guileless, sleepy smile. On bare feet, he padded towards the door.

She?s better than you, you know. There was something familiar about the voice that he couldn?t place, but it wasn?t hard to figure out who it was. Not in the end. With every week that passes. With everything you teacher her, she surpasses you. Does that rankle you, Charlie Nine?

He paused at the door, turning dark eyes towards the familiar leather cuff.

Pretty soon she?ll be fighting your battles for you. Doing that you can?t.

His mouth thinned into a straight line, but he said nothing as he slipped from the room, intent on the bathroom and the shower he sorely needed.

No one asked you to get involved. Or to eavesdrop.

Someone had to do what you can?t.

Keep thinking that.

Seconds. Inconsequential seconds. They sneak and slip past with such ease that they aren?t even noticed until they pile up into minutes and hours then days and weeks and finally months and years. Jin was losing track of so much time that every day had become a blur. A wash of fucking and fighting, false smiles and the ever present doubt. Oh the doubt. It nagged and lingered and pestered like an incessant hum in her ear. That mosquito you can?t swat quickly enough to kill. First it had been playoffs, the constant chatter making it hard to think. She had been so confident going in. Had her confidence been her downfall or was it the way the blue rock praised her opponent?s skills, her worthiness.

?My worth is not determined by some stupid rock.? The words became a battle anthem, starting as a whisper and working up into a roar, anything to drown out the din in her head. It didn?t drown out the torrent of pain that rippled through her rib cage with the final blow of the fight, the aerial acrobatics doing little to stop the freight train that was Dizzy Flores. The crash to the mat had rattled more than the rocks in her head, shaking an ironclad fortitude in such a way Jin hadn?t thought possible. How the mighty had fallen.

Worthless.

Failure.

Pathetic.

?My worth is not determined by some stupid rock.?

She relieved the disappointment in unspeakable ways and soon defeat was but a fleeting memory, lost in the seconds that had drifted past her, slipping through her fingers like the grains of sand so many compared them to. Inconsequential seconds. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Her volatility grew, barely held in check as is, a balance maintained only until the next gust of wind came along to send her careening off her tightrope. The balance was further upset just after the new year, the red opal taken from Charlie Nine by the same woman who had ended Jin?s perfect IFL record with a couple broken ribs and some bruised pride.

That. That is a worthy bearer.

It was the same night she locked IceDancer in her lock box and shoved the box into the back of the safe in her closet. The pale strip of flesh around her left wrist was a constant reminder of the missing leather cuff and she found herself frequently rubbing at the consistently cool flesh until it flared red with irritation. Maybe she could find her center without it. She didn?t need it.

She didn?t.

Really, she swore she didn?t.

She didn?t fucking need it.

Sure.

Charlie on the other hand needed the red rock and in turn Jin needed him to have it. He wasn?t the same without it and she watched him slowly slip back into his shell, an empty and capricious shade of what he was before. Or maybe? it was how he was all along. There was that doubt again, snickering away at the edge of her consciousness. It was enough to drive someone mad really. But Jin was a Chae and Chaes are obviously so naturally unbalanced that she found herself grinning through it, an easy facade plastered over pretty features like a thick layer of cement, holding her together so she wouldn?t crack. But sometimes cracks are so small that you don?t know they?re there until it?s too late and you have a flood on your hands.

I know why you favor water, Jin Chae. I know why you?re drawn to it like a moth to flame.

Oh yeah? Please, tell me all about your profound insight oh knowledgeable pebble. Who knew she was capable of such internal sarcasm.

Nothing is softer or more flexible than water, yet nothing can resist it.

Okay, Lao Tzu, when did you become a philosopher.

You wound me, Jin Chae, truly. You know, I told him you are better than he, each and every day your persistence wears down that which fire can?t hope to touch. Set a stone on fire and the stone remains even when the last flame is snuffed but subject the same stone to a steady stream, no matter how slow the trickle, soon you find it but a pebble.

You?re only saying this because you want out of that box. Fuck you.

And so the blue rock remained locked up, held captive in the iron lockbox, tucked away like some forgotten artifact in the little safe set amongst shoe boxes and neatly hung dresses wrapped in plastic garment bags.

Until tonight.

The walk home from the Iron Fists Garden had been a cold one without the buff afforded by the blue rock?s alignment with her own natural inclinations. But with her chin down and her hood up she wove down streets and alleys away from the arena by the river, eventually finding her surroundings getting nicer and nicer as she reached New Haven. Along the way she had traded a volley of messages with her sister, devolving into crudely typed Korean that spread across the screen with its sharp lines and block symbols as she recounted Charlie?s awkward display of what looked like affection to the newly blonde Jewell Ravenlock. He hadn?t even said goodbye to Jin after smearing a stain of blood pressed from swollen lips across the Faerie?s fair cheek. He hadn?t even said goodbye. Her phone had been turned off and tucked away before she made it into the high rise apartment building and past the overweight doorman who eyed her with the same suspicion he had the day the Chaes had made the building their home.

She took the stairs for once, losing count of the steps she climbed, winding circles around banisters until she reached her floor. Sidling past an old woman with grocery bags hanging from her walker and then a young married couple arguing in the hallway about who was supposed to pick their pretentiously named tot from their overpriced private nursery school, she finally made it home, locking the door behind her to shut it all out. How inane it all was. KC was still with Grace and the emptiness of the apartment was a welcome reprieve to the dull roar that filled the Iron Fists Garden, her cool bedroom even more so.

Cracking the closet door open, she dug past an opened box of Jordans and brushed her thumb over the biometric scanner, she heard the lock disengage and gently pulled the door open. It was time for a trade, two for one. In went a silver locket and a bracelet etched with Charles Bukowski quote that summed her up so well and out came the lockbox from the back. Spinning the combination, that too popped open and she scooped out the blue stone embedded in the leather cuff that had been shut inside for the better part of a month.

You return. Color me surprised.

?Please? I don?t need this right now? Just. I need to go. I need to get away.?

From?

?Everything. All of it. Him.?

My sibling is back in Nine?s possession?

?Why the fuck do you think I need to leave??

Shh? it?ll be all right. Let?s go.

Jin shut the safe tight and stepped back from the closet without closing the door. Securing the cuff back around her wrist, IceDancer was nestled against her inner wrist like it was meant to be all along. She had what she needed, what she wanted, something to counter the hurt that had sank her heart like an anchor into the roiling pit of her stomach. She dumped her wallet and phone onto her desk and with a few steps back, turned and cut a way to the shadow realm. By the time she closed the veil behind her, quiet had returned to the apartment once more.

Two nights worth of unforgiving head trauma had taken it?s toll.

Dizzy Flores precise and relentless, having shifted the momentum in her favor and taken advantage of his flagging focus repeatedly to the delight of many. Charlie was reeling, embattled at every turn as she attacked his strength and took point after point away. He found himself stealing glances away at every opportunity, every painfully short lull in the action, out to Jin?s face. He wondered, between the rapid ticks of his heart, if she had noticed.

His strength was drained.

His head throbbed.

Through it the Little Boy tried to rally his will, his resolve, as often as the Red Opal taunted him; ridiculed him in the face of what it believed was the inevitable.

When he finally lashed out with a quick, angry fist, it wasn?t enough to stop Dizzy?s own. The well aimed blow caught him beneath one side of his jaw.

Charlie?s world exploded in a blinding flash of color and then suddenly went black.



Hero, Hero, this word you'll never know
Hero, Hero, this word you'll never know
You'll never know

Guess it's too bad
that everything we have
is taken away. (taken away)

Guess it's too bad
that everything we have
is taken away. (taken away)

Guess it's too bad
that everything we have
is taken away.

Guess it's too bad
that everything we have
is taken away. (taken away)

Away, away, away
They're taking it away
Away, away,
They're taking it away!

Here I lie forever
Sorrow still remains
Will the water pull me down and wash it all away
Come and take me over
Welcome to the game
Will the current drag me down and carry me away
Suddenly the light begins to fade

HOPELESS
I'm falling down
FILTHY
I can't wake up
I can not hold on
I will not let go
WORTHLESS
It's over now
GUILTY
There's no way out
I can not hold on
I will not let go



Charlie hardly remembered the first few days after the fall, after the loss of the Red Opal and the sudden, oppressive void that had been created by the Little Boy?s absence. In the dimmed light of his memory, he caught the concerned flashes of Jin at his bedside, offering reassuring words without the frosted edge of IceDancer and plying her limited but impressive healing talents to his injuries. She had tried to soothe him, had kept her disappointment well hidden when it wasn?t meant with the responses she had hoped for but bore up well beneath the burden until he had taken to roaming the halls of his apartment and the pull of responsibility took her back to the agency. Reluctantly, she left him to?

His grief?


His shame?

Even he couldn?t put his finger on it. Not truly.

But it came to him eventually, slowly, and in bits and pieces, snapping into place one little puzzle piece at a time but offering neither true understanding or solace. Without the Little Boy, he was lost and near conscienceless. Without the Opal or the serum, he was without defense against the alien DNA. He had been absent of the latter for some time, two half months since his last dose.

Control.

He needed it. Someone would get it.

But who?

It ate at him, like the drip of acid on hempen rope, burning away at his patience and resolve and forcing him to deeper introspection. The continued warm welcome of Jin Chae?s arms offered clarity and distraction in equal measure, even if he hadn?t showed it, but Charlie had little use for anyone else in the intervening time. It was so hard to hold on, but nearly impossible to let go. The days passed?


Silent I go under
I am not afraid
I can see the daylight shine
And slowly drift away
Safe to say it's over
Sink into the grave
There is nothing left inside
But I am wide awake
I can hear the devil call my name

HOPELESS
I'm falling down
FILTHY
I can't wake up
I can not hold on
I will not let go
WORTHLESS
It's over now
GUILTY
There's no way out
I can not hold on
I will not let go



I should tell him no. They were the first words that came to mind when he was called to the Outback and given the news, bloodshot eyes falling to the small box containing FireStar with the delivery of the verdict. The words came unbidden within the jumbled mess of his head despite the sudden surge of his heartbeat. Don?t take it back. Find another way.

But there was no other way.

In the end, he accepted the box with a curt nod and departed, to a waiting KC and a dozen questions that went unanswered on the trek back towards the gym and the small apartment above. In the blessed silence that eventually followed (because Kace shut up? eventually), he girded himself and acquiesced to the growing desire to reach out to the Little Boy.

You seem as overjoyed about this as I am, the voice had disparaging tone and caused a sudden, uncomfortable heat inside Charlie?s skull. The sound itself reminded him of the crackle of dry kindling on fire. It seems fortune favors you.

It was not the voice he had been expected.

Where is he?

Your little friend is here, Charlie. Listening. Would you like to talk to him?

FireStar taunted him. That much Charlie knew. He could feel it?s displeasure and desire to hurt him, and it was a feeling akin to the teasing lick of pain one received from holding an opening palm over the flickering flame of a candle. A thing made worse and more dangerous with time and ego. It was going to feed on his weakness and doubt. His need and?

No.

...

It had expected a lot of things. But not that.

You...

I said No.

By then he had stalked into the gym, weaving a path through the machines and moving bodies and slipping into the main office that Andrea often occupied when she wasn?t teaching one of her classes. He went straight for the safe, punching in the code and swinging the door open before setting the box within.

The sudden roar of flames surging up inside his head nearly staggered him.

You need him. You need me! The Red Opal raged. You?ll never get the answers you seek, otherwise.You?ll never survive. Who will protect you from my sibling?

Perhaps not. Charlie shrugged, fixing the small box with a wan look. He was hesitant and then determined. But perhaps it?s time to find out.

He closed the safe.

February 24th, 2015

Gone. He was gone, just like that. It was inconceivable, his sudden disappearance from the dueling ring. How does that even happen? It?s not as though he would have gone willingly, would he? Once Jin had recovered from her shock, it gave way to dismay and without further explanation, she too took her leave. At least she knew where she was going, slashing a gap into the shadow realm that butted up against Rhy?Din and its extensions like some twisted carnival mirror reflection. It was enough to clear her head, focus overriding panic.

?Mmk, help me find him.? She murmured aloud, traversing the dark with ease, sidelong attention watching as the temperate island reflection gave way to a more urban landscape. Timing it just right, she emerged three blocks from the high rise that hosted the Chae Fortress of Prostitude and slowed her pace lest she draw attention for her frantic hurrying. Steadying her breathing, she came to a stop in the massive shadow of the tower that loomed over her.

I can?t.

What do you mean, you can?t? Or are you and Red not on speaking terms?

My brother is not in his Keeper?s possession.

Jin pursed her lips. She should have known. Ever since Charlie got it back, she hadn?t felt FireStar?s presence, like he couldn?t quite believe that the red rock had come back to him.

Are you going to lock me up too?

For the first time, Jin thought she detected a hint of worry in IceDancer?s tone. While she had done it before, she never had for the length of time Charlie had kept FireStar away.

Depends are you gonna get--

Interrupted, unceremoniously and without any regard for the previous conversation. The voice tolled in her mind like some ominous spectre bearing news of the worst sort. It annoyed her, until she listened.

The object of your vapid, girlish affections is in beyond mortal peril, little girl. Act now or find a new idiot to hang from your delicate little arm. Charlie Nine is in?

From one interruption to another, she found another intruder into their private little conversation and Jin wondered just how full her brain could get.

THE VOID. VOID HAS BOY.

A beat passed. Then a second and a third. At last a reaction registered and she thought her heart had first leapt into her throat and then dropped like an anchor into the pit of her stomach. If there was ever a time to experience overwhelming dread, that time was now. But other than the knot that had twisted her insides, she was otherwise numb.

Co?ba? I?m at home. Find me and take us there.

Well that was quicker than Jin thought it would be. In any other circumstance, coming face to face with a creature like this would be the beginning of an unfortunate end and an unpleasant death or the beginning of those Japanese hentai videos Morgan would get caught looking at in the public library. Thankfully it was neither and she was of the mind to give the great being a quick scritch when she caught his broad head to her chest. Instead she found herself fumbling to catch the red rock that tumbled into her hand. The blue rock?s instinct almost had her pulling away, content to drop it on the floor but something more important overrode the urge and she curled her fingers tightly around the hot rock. Red in the right, blue on the left, it was a less than fun tug of war on her natural balance but a steadying breath was sucked in between her teeth and she dipped her chin to Co?ba.

?Let?s go.? An arm looped loosely and a bit uncomfortably but the discomfort didn?t compare to what came next. She had always wondered what it was like to be stuffed inside of a pop can just before it was crunched for recycling. Not really, but that?s what came to mind under the crushing weight of the Void as it spread around her. Once upon a time she had been swept through by the whirlwind known as Charlie Nine, whisked from one end and out the other side in a matter of moments. There was no quick escape this time and her introduction thanks to Co?ba was far less gentle than Charlie had been. She hadn?t even had time to get a deep breath before the pair had fallen into the fade and Jin quickly found her lungs aflame and her head spinning. It was getting dark, darker than she remembered but just as she felt it may go pitch black, her chest heaved with a deep breath. Sweet, sweet air.

You owe me.

Us.

Hardly.

Shut up! Thanks, whatever. Where am I going now?

Follow the fiend.

Make haste.

The great cat-like beast threw a snarl over his heavily muscled shoulder, feral ire directed at Jin?s left hand before its focus turned to what lay ahead. Scale and sinew shifted beneath her diminutive weight, like the coil of some great steel springs beneath the sleek armor of his big body, tension ready to be released. Co?ba paused before the first leap, an almost casual consideration the offered time to tangle arms in the thick ruffage of fur (it was fur, right?) around his neck.

Fiend, cat, meat popsicle. Whatever!

The first bounding leap seemed to carry them a few dozen yards and Co?ba landed with a fluid shudder of his body, like a great serpentine undulation that prevented his passenger from succumbing to the jarring force of the impact. Instead it was like riding the rolling wave of a wave pool at some simple waterpark, an almost giggle-worthy experience until he leapt again. The landscape served as a stark reminder that there was nothing for any sane person to laugh about, as darkness and dancing shadow cast a horrifying pall over a wasted and decaying version of New Haven, a place seemingly devoid of life until until dozens of blinking, incandescent eyes presented themselves in fleeting glimpses in the periphery. What could have been a scream or even just the howl of a fell wing echoed in the distance, muted and then given voice again with no beats missed.

Co?ba juked and ducked at one point, a dozen jumps in, the only sign of danger coming from the brief buffeting wind over head. There and gone, the urgency of the moment only truly felt in the Void-beast-turned-mount?s sibilant hiss. The scenery of the Other Rhy?din was memorable only in random moments, a familiar monument recalled more from the subconscious than any true recognition, flashing by in streaks due in large part to the alacrity of the journey.

There may be a great fire in our hearts, yet no one ever comes to warm himself at it, and the passers-by only see a wisp of smoke.

Is that supposed to mean something?

Van Gogh. The man was passionate. He had the fire of creation in his soul. It?s admirable. I?m trying to inspire the girl.

Does she need the motivation?

Well, how motivated are you to save him?

Everything.

That was a scary concept for a girl so used to having nothing. Jin Chae, the eldest of a line of vagrants and riff raff that spanned the city and even reached its classless roots into others realms, she was a modern day matriarch of a generation of street rats. A baroness of cardboard box castles and pilfered feasts, the sort that would use it up, wear it out, make it do or do without. Everything that she was, was so easily encompassed within judging glares of the well to do elite of New Haven. Everything she had, the material and petty things she filled her so called fortress with? it was all so simply taken away. But the poster child for ?started from the bottom? had something that couldn?t be learned by etiquette lessons or rubbing elbows with the rich, she had loyalty and a fierce need to protect those who had deemed her fit to squeeze her piece into the puzzles of their lives. The handful of so called orphans, both Chae blooded and otherwise, they were what she valued at the end of the day. And she could not, would not allow them to be taken away. Not without a fight, or other less Dr. Seuss sort of things.

Ahead, I?d say? just past your line of sight. It feels like him. Or it did, it?s not as strong as it was? The conclusion trailed off into the darker recesses of her mind, pushing forward bits and pieces of her fears and nightmares. Everything had been fine what seemed like only moments ago. It hadn?t been but an hour ago that they were upon the Isle, excitement lacing the air as Charlie stepped into the arcane rings, intent on a tower. Jin was proud but that pride gave way to confusion and at last fear when he disappeared right before her eyes. No explanation, nothing.

You mustn?t dwell. Head in the here and now, little one. For all of its calm, cool logic, the blue rock still managed to comfort her. The nod she gave was just as much for herself as it was the encouragement and she hunkered down against Co?ba, intent on getting there as quickly as possible.

So close.

Charlie found himself on a precipice.

Within the dimming view of his mind?s eye, he saw the darkness laid out before him, an abyssal cloud of purple-black smoke that threatened to consume all. He was intimately familiar with it, as much as the outside staring in as the inside staring out. How many times had he danced around the edges of it, like a child playing solo at Ring-Around-The-Rosy, until sociopathic boredom or the high expectations of his handlers coaxed him into diving deep? So deep. How often had be drank the darkness in? How much of it ran through his veins still today?

The dark called to him now more than ever, the strong pull of that new (but strangely familiar) voice in his head, drawing out the life and replacing it with something else. He had so little light in him but his chin lifted and hooded eyes widened in morbid wonder when little motes rose off of his pale skin and drifted towards the black.

He made a promise, but there on the edge?

Something warm drew his attention to the opposite horizon. Light, sweet light. The silhouette of it in the distance like a faint ray of --

?Jin Chae?? He sucked in her name like it was the last mouthful of air. His lifeline.

On one side of him, the darkness. On the other side, the light. The darkness the easier path, the other promising nothing.

Charlie reached for her. Reached for the thought of her.

Little motes, they were but minute pinpricks on a canvas of dark twilight, as though a fire recently extinguished still exhaled embers of its last dying breaths. Remnants of flame, fractured and distorted in this demesne of nothingness were all that denoted the fading soul before her. He was drifting further by the second and she struggled to grasp hold of even a flicker. A hint, it was all she needed. And so it came on the next wisp of wind that caught auburn in an evanescent maelstrom and brushed two words across the shell of her ear.

Jin Chae?

Close your eyes for a moment, Charlie, the Little Boy?s voice was a faint echo in the yawning cavern of his mind.

But you?re?

Close your eyes. I need you clear headed or as close to as possible.

Why??

I need your brain. We?re going to cut a bitch. With science.

His palm was incredibly hot and there was a sudden bright flash of light. All around Charlie and Jin, the darkness was given form in the pulsing light, like a thousand amorphous humanoid shadows trying to co-exist in a hideous orgy of sludge, trying to exist in a vacuum. It recoiled with the sudden flare at the mercurial back-and-forth of hot and cold. The two Opals worked in concert, like the swing of a pendulum blade to tear at anything everything that wasn?t their charges.

But for FireStar?s holder, everything went dark. Inside his own darkness, where no one else could see the light, was where Charlie Nine hid his best memories:

?Oh, come on,? Jin Chae laughed and butt her head against his shoulder. ?Not everyone can have a laser blaster thing like in Star Trek or Star Wars, Charlie.?

She was nestled into his side on the couch, the roll of her eyes illuminated briefly by the bright images on the television screen. One slim arm was tucked possessively around his waist in her lean, a regular occurrence when they were alone and odd for the way it wasn?t often a public display, the other hand plucking pieces of buttery popcorn from the bucket resting between his knees. A soft, happy sound warbled in her slim throat when he stroked at her hair but she was quick enough to scowl up at him when he snorted faint derision.

?Lasers aren?t complicated, you know.? His eyes remained on the blaster battle between Han Solo and the Storm Troopers on the screen. ?Mostly deals with light and radiation, in a manner of speaking. Normal light actually deals with a collective of colors, regardless of what you actually see. Laser light is monochromatic, meaning it?s just a single color or the same wavelength. Second, all the wavelengths are in phase. That is, they are all ?waving? together. All the wave crests and troughs are lined up. So laser light is coherent. And third, while light waves from ordinary sources spread out in all directions, laser light waves all travel in the same direction, exactly parallel to one another. This means that laser light beams are very narrow and can be concentrated on one tiny spot. It?s called being collimated.

Because the laser light is monochromatic, coherent, and collimated, all of its energy is focused to produce a small point of intense power. It makes it possible to control laser light very precisely??

?Wait,? she stopped him, dropping a piece of popcorn back into the bucket to stare up at him. ?Are you saying that you could use FireStar to???

?Yeah?? Charlie nodded, but his smile faded.

?Wow??

?I?m leaving it in the safe, Jin??

?We don?t need a laser for anything anyway.? It was a gentle reassurance, offering in a murmur and a kiss buried against his neck?

People are like stained-glass windows. They sparkle and shine when the sun is out, but when the darkness sets in, their true beauty is revealed only if there is a light from within.

-Elisabeth Kubler-Ross




Tuesday, March 24th.


Twenty-four hours to go.

It was a big deal.

Charlie knew she had cleared her schedule; she had no clients and Andrea had closed off a portion of the gym with the expectation she would want to train with her boyfriend and fellow Opal holder or alone. But he knew these moments made one run hot and cold (no pun intended) and left it up to her. Jin Chae knew that she could look forward to as much or as little space as she needed. He was only a call away. But as the morning stretched into the afternoon and the hazy clouds stood as a gray, opaque barrier to the sun, the call never came. A brief descent from the apartment to the gym?s office for something to snack on (KC and Grace took him grocery shopping once and he was determined, after that to never do it again) informed him that the pretty red-headed Korean girl who held IceDancer had never come in, producing a furrow of the brow and a pensive frown. Andrea asked him something, but he wouldn?t remember later what it was when he ignored it and made the trip back upstairs.

You should go to her, it urged, a suggestion that flew in the face of the opinion the Red Opal once professed for the girl of opposing elements and despite a continued argument about the current disposition of the Little Boy. Go to her, Nine. Ignite the passion in her heart for what?s coming; enkindle her fighting spirit.

?Not yet,? Charlie murmured back and surprised himself when he realized he had said the words aloud too. Not yet. She?ll tell me when she needs me. If she needs me.

There was a smokey arrogance to the scoff. She?s a woman. If you don?t leap into action now, she?ll want to know later why you aren?t a mind reader and didn?t show up hours ago, before she called for you.

Charlie rolled his eyes.

But the dinner hour came and went and there was still nothing. By the time the sun had given up it?s fight and sank below the western horizon, he was staring at her Surprise-Go-Kick-G?s-Ass-Tomorrow dinner: Sushi, crinkles fries, and root beer float. The latter had already melted into frothy slop, surrounded by a new menagerie of paper frogs, fish, and turtles. Staring at them in their silent vigil reminded him of some faithful, soulless thugs keeping guard for a long time master wasting away in his death bed, two-dimensional nobodies about to be set adrift on a sea of uncertainty. How many men like that were unfortunate enough to have their lives ended by him? Unfortunate for them, but just another day of the week for him?

It wasn?t until recently that he?d been stricken with the ideas of sorrow and regret.

He regretted what Jin had had to endure for him, where she had to go and what she had been exposed to for his sake. For his safety and his life. The soft but repeated hammer?s blow of sorrow continued to ring against the weakness he tried hard to bury deep, the worry over what it made her think of him. She had put up with much for the sake of their budding romance, but was it too much?

She burns for you, FireStar told him. Even with my frigid counterpart icing over her heart, there is warmth in her stare when she looks at you. And she warms the damned cold tomb in your center more than I can, more?s the pity. I saw that much when you were, and she and I?

The sudden heat in Charlie?s cheeks produced a laughter that roared like flames inside of his head, leaving him to look away from the little card table full of food and grimace at the shadows.

?Maybe she needs to do this on her own,? he confided in the darkness, as if he expected it to listen. But it was always listening wasn?t it? Waiting for another opportunity to take him home? Perhaps there wouldn?t be a Co?ba or Jin Chae to bring him back. Maybe E... It was a thought he needed to dismiss, so be finished the original. ?It?s the first time and maybe??

I?m not doing it for you. FireStar sniffed at it?s bearer in mild contempt. There are better ways to impress a la -- girl. You?ve already shown the spark, boy. Go on, impress her.

Normally his lip would have curled in derision, for such had been their adversarial nature without the Little Boy?s influence. Sometimes. It had been push and pull, high five and backhand since he had taken the Opal up after his retrieval from the Void. Charlie, however, was quickly distracted by the slow rise and fall of her slender frame with even breathing, then the soft hiccup in the serenity when she heaved a frustrated sigh.

IceDancer hadn?t told her theyhad arrived.

It made him curious, but?

Charlie concentrated, smooth features screwing up with the effort?

One by one and at ordered intervals the torches flickered and flared to life, the first flame among them rising to life before Jin?s eyes. She perked up immediately, staring at the torch and watching as many as she could follow suit in her peripheral vision before hopping to her feet unsteadily and whirling around to face him. The look she gave him for the theatrics was a temperate one; she had seen him do for more impressive (or worse) with the Red Opal in the half a year or more it had spent in his care, but her head tipped to the side, her eyes widening with surprise when she sensed?

The look instantly became sardonic when she saw the twin flames of FireStar?s not so subtle amusement dancing in Charlie?s eyes. As if a reminder of something poignant the look transitioned again and made one, if not both, suddenly want to wilt beneath the frosty detraction of her stare. It was a stark reminder of the stress she was under, the stress he had created for her even before someone had finally decided to test her mettle and desire to hold onto the Blue Opal. Had it been KC or Grace, he could have let it roll off of his shoulders with the expectation that they wouldn?t care in a day or two. Melanie or Andrea, he would expect them to accept even if they didn?t understand. Anyone else could have died in a literal fire and he would have shrugged and made himself a sandwich.

?Charlie Nine.? She said his name and he wondered if she was as uncertain as she sounded.

But being so entwined with him, having to wear who and what he was like a second skin sometimes and in a way that had nothing to do with the heated press of sweaty flesh beneath the slivers of moonlight pouring through the window. She deserved more. And in the end, all Charlie Nine could say was:

?Dinner got cold.? And, smooth as he ever was. ?Your float melted.?

She blinked. The dark, glassy pools of her eyes became murky with a sudden confusion, as if she had expected him to say something profound to intervene in the long reign of silence that had made a gulf between them after she said his name. But this was Charlie, afterall.

Even Matt Simon has more romantic appeal than you?

?Shut up.? The admonishment was sudden and only half annoyed, and came surprisingly from the little red-head who had bloomed the smallest of smiles.

She was uncertain.

About tomorrow. About him. About the moment.

Or maybe she was certain about everything.

?Dance with me.? It wasn?t a request but a demand, delivered quietly and with the soft moue of her mouth, a muted petulance that would have hidden her need from anyone who wasn?t Charlie or any one of the more perceptive Chaes (if there were any).

?Jin Chae,? he founded himself replying, stammering really in an attempt to find a circuitous route around an issue that had been plaguing him for months. Something that had been lost beneath the din of other problems, other dramas. ?I promised you I would train with you. You?ll be ready to fight -- ?

?Don?t say that word. Dance with me.?

Charlie hadn?t remembered stepping inside the circle of torches, hadn?t recalled the siren?s call of her voice drawing him deeper into her sphere of feminine influence. It was easy to forget sometimes how much steel the little Korean woman had in her spine and how woefully stubborn she could be. But when she reminded him, it was impossible to forget that it was one of the things that drew him to her.

?Dance with me.? She shoved him, dark eyes staring up into his. Unapologetic.

?Jin, you?re going to fight we--?

A cold fist struck him in the stomach, hard enough to make him want to suck in a breath.