Pink and Punishments (pt 2)

[West (The Mage)]

Continued from here

“Seriously about the posts, though.” she said making notes to swing by a hardware store soon. The look that her master was giving her made her want to question further, but he obviously wasn’t going to give her any more answers, oh well.

She followed his lead up onto the porch, and then slipped out of the boots she was wearing. “I thought I told you about the Sunhawks.” she said as she fished a feathered ear clip out of the pack and clipped it to her left ear. The red and gold feathers falling to her shoulder. “It was the cabal I was fostered by in Chicago.”



Seriously about the posts, though.

He wasn't sure what the question was, or if she was fishing. Well. You couldn't tell your Apprentice everything their first official day.

"Some," he answered her statement as he opened the door. For a moment, he pondered his options: remove his own dirty boots, or be incredibly casual about some really Vulgar spellwork. Then, he had the epiphany as she removed her boots. I have an Apprentice.

"Would you get me a beer and an orange from the fridge? You can grab whatever you want, too."

Her answer hadn't been what he'd been asking, maybe, but it also didn't thrill him. There was going to be part of her training, and formative time as an Awakened that he hadn't been involved in. Objectively, it was a good thing, but it didn't mean he liked someone else teaching her. He watched the feathers slowly rotate.

"And then, tell me again."



She game him a look, to counteract his non answer before rolling her eyes, putting the pack down and sock-feeting across his floor. She poked around in his fridge before calling out to him. “How often do you eat out?” she asked pulling an orange and two Coronas out of their places. She tossed the Orange to him and then walked over hand handed him the beer.

“What exactly do you want to know about them. It was an Arrow/Guardian centric cabal, and we did a good amount of things...”

What should I be telling him? How much does he really want to know?



"A lot," West answered, catching the orange and sinking his teeth into the rind. The near sour strength of the rind flavor swept away the Travel-taste of Portal'ing, and mixed with the citrus-y aftertaste of uncloaked magics. He answered without any hint of remorse or embarrassment; he could go anywhere.

Why would I eat at home?

He slipped the bottle into the opener naile to one of the porch posts and popped the cap, holding it out in his third and fourth fingers to trade with Vaeltia's unopened one.

"Tell me what you think of Guardians," he compromised. He could count the number of Eyes he liked on one hand, but did his best to keep his tone neutral.



She traded out the open bottle for the closed one and palmed it for a moment before taking a swig. At his question she sucked in a breath in obvious annoyance and slight anger.

“Guardians...” she said with a forced smile, “they can be backstabbing spawn of hell.” her free hand began to clench and loosen as she fought to control herself.



West took a long pull on his own beer, and started peeling the orange. He was meticulous about getting all the rind off the crescents, a contrast to his earlier biting of the unpeeled orange. It wasn't the flavor, but the texture that bothered him.

"You know the difference between Arrows and Guardians?" he asked rhetorically. "Guardians have no honor. No code. No moral compass. They hide behind the axiom of ends justifying means, but that's bullshit."

He waved half of the orange at her, if she wanted it. He felt a little guilty about trash-talking another Order, but she was his Apprentice. Sooner or later, she'd have figured it out anyway. It wasn't a secret.

"But, go on."

[Vae]

“I would have to say my interactions with them didn’t start out that way, but, yes, you are entirely correct.” she said accepting the orange half, and downing more of the beer.

“No honor, no sense of respect for others thoughts or duties. No willingness to hear another side of the story, they jump to conclusions and are unrelenting in their own thoughts.”

Willing to blame the innocent for their own shortcomings. With each word she began to move, pacing back and forth as her anger found an outlet.

“I mean, seriously, who does that?!”



West nodded, finishing the rest of his orange half as he listened. Such hubris was common; in the Awakened, all of their flaws were magnfied. It surprised him slightly to realize they were both victims of the hubris of others. Would it mean something? KingMaker and Acanthus both, the causality intrigued him, and only time would provide answers.

His eyes dropped slightly and his eyebrows came together as he gave the question thought. A flippant answer was probably expected, and what he would have given Kai, or even Joshua... neither of whom were his Apprentice.

"I'm... not sure? People with low self esteem? Or people who, hmmm, don't have faith or hope in themselves or others? I'm not sure. It's a good question. Are they comfortable with how they're shaping their Soul, or is is some kind of self punishment?" West spoke to give his thoughts voice as much to answer the question because he had no answer... but it might help Emily find hers.

He watched her pace, and wondered if this were part of what she'd said in the Consilium.

"Tell me about it."



Trust, I can trust him....but what if the truth separates us.

“Tell you what? What happened in Chicago?” she asked, her voice audibly changed a few pitches and full of remnant hatred. She ground her teeth together before flopping onto the floor.

She pulled her legs under her as she finished the beer and resisted the urge to toss it as far as she could. Instead she began to turn it in her hands -- keeping some part of her busy as she began to speak.

“They blamed me, even though they knew I would never have done that. They blamed me even after I fell the distance because of the height we were at, and they practically threw me out because of it. But, West, I swear I didn't do it.”



West upended the bottle and finished the beer in several long swallows, turning back to Emily and nodding.

"Of course you didn't."

The corner of his mouth twisted in a wry smile, and he reached out to tap her forehead lightly, briefly looking surprised before withdrawing his hand.

"Most Guardians are Mastigos. They could have read your memories, or even found a PostCog."

There was a flash of something else for a moment, a cold, unfocused hardness in his eyes that disappeared in a blink. If he'd kept the expression, it might have been called a 'thousand yard stare'; but for him, it was the cool, quiet place he went to when he was angry. It was the look that those who knew him well, like Kai, never stood in the way of. He wasn't one to take his Apprentice being taken advantage of lightly.

"So. What didn't you do?"

That involved falling?

[West (The Mage)]

“I didn’t kill her. Song was the Heart of the Sunhawks, the nestmother so to speak. And she took me under her wing and taught me how to fly. Yes, she was a tough teacher and I do still have some of the scars from the training she oversaw, but I would never kill her.” She sighed, the memories of her last flight still haunted her.

“We were flying as hawks, doing a circuit and occasionally Song would attack me. Not because of anything I did wrong, but to enforce preparedness. I returned the attack, mostly because I was feeling vigilant that day; there had been an impending feeling. And as the two of us were circling, and giving each other rather nasty wounds she dipped slightly and then began to fall. The spell broke on both of us a few moments later, and I dropped from the sky down through an Oak tree.” A slow tear rolls down her cheek as she recounts the thought.

She took a moment to breathe and to try to suppress her anger and tears, while wiping away the rebel. “When I came too I was surrounded by others, in a hospital room and then interrogations began almost immediately. I mean Hierarch Lykos was there, and he questioned me, too. In the end there were guardians, Sunhawks that declared that I was the one who killed her. The Sunhawk Arrows, the ones who had been through Song’s training spoke differently...” Her voice trailed off, and she put the bottle down and drew her knees to her chest, feeling distant and a bit empty but thankfully not crying, although it wouldn’t take much to knock her over the precipice.



West breathed deeply. It wasn't a sigh, it was more of a calming, meditative sound, and he took one step down from the porch to sit on the top step.

It was a lot to digest. The truth was, he didn't know enough about what'd happened. Or... why.

He turned to look at her, and nodded slightly.

"I believe you."

And, he did. He didn't need Sight, or Post Cognition, or to read her mind; there was something about her, that was similar to himself. If she'd done it, she'd have said so, or not have brought it up. It was... something like integrity, that neither of them hid form who they were, or what they did. He'd asked about the Consilium, she'd told him, even when he gave her an opening to claim ignorance of etiquette.

After a moment, he shook his head. "You never know, with Guardians."



She let out a shaky breath, as if she was trying to control the sobs that threatened to appear at any moment. “Thank you, West.”

Finding someone who was willing to listen and who didn’t condemn her was not only a relief but also rare. Trusting him might be a little easier now that she wouldn’t have to hide what had happened; but then wasn’t an apprenticeship supposed to be an open channel. Still the eye of suspicion had her, and she looked at him, trying to determine if he was being sincere.

She worked on stabalizing her breathing and pushing the memory of Song’s last flight away from the front of her thoughts. “Sorry for dropping that on you, but you do have the right to know--especially as my Master.”

I still don’t know how to repay you for accepting me, despite my faults



With any amount of time spent around West, it was plain for anyone to see that his expressions were fairly easy to read; the only time they weren't was when he had a nearly blank look that expressed... nothing. That was the expression he wore during 'business'. The look on his face was a mixture of understanding and acceptance, but with just the hint of a frown that suggested he felt sorry for her. There was also a slight narrowing of his eyes of curiosity. Someone else might have had comforting words, or even offered a hug or some other small offering of sympathy or compassion; someone comfortable with such interpersonal acts.

"That's heavy shit."

It was meant to be comforting.

"And you don't have to be sorry, that's what I'm here for -- both as your Master and your Adamant Sage," he added.

He sighed.

"They dishonor Song by blaming you. They do not have honorable Souls."

West's eyes dropped slightly as he said the words, shaking his head. It was one of the worst condemnations for him to make.



“Thank you, though.” she said, although she would have preferred that hug. She breathed out a sigh. “They might have, but their decision had no justice in it; there was no reason for blame to be placed as it had been - especially on an innocent.”

She dismissed the conversation with a hand wave after a further moment of silence. “Past is past, albeit, it affects the future; but the present is what matters. What shade of pink? and is there some other topic we can move onto?”



The timing was convenient. West had run out of things to say which might be construed as sympathetic or comforting; not because he was neither, but because the words never seemed right.

"You know what shade," he answered, turning and grinning.

"The one that makes your teeth hurt, that you hate having to buy, and want to throw away any of your clothes that you get it on. That'll be the right shade."

He added a back and forth motion with his hand.

"Make sure you sand it first and get outdoor, weatherproof paint."

More than once, he'd wondered what would have happened if he'd never Awoken; if he would have been career Army, maybe a drill instructor. Maybe. He extended a leg, showing his combat boot with jungle mud on it.

"You know how to polish boots?"

To be Continued...