“I think you’re missing an ear, Ashalina,” Robin noted.
“Yes,” she agreed.
“Did you lose it in the fight?”
“Yes. I am actually quite injured.”
He looked her damp body over. Her hijab was torn in many places but with it clinging so wetly it was hard to see many underlying details. “How can you tell? You’re not bleeding or anything.”
“The wereBear’s roar was very unsettling to my innards.”
Martiposa turned his head over one dark-skinned shoulder lowering rain-dripped, gossamer wings. “You had better stay close, my friends,” he said, with a small hand gesture indicating Robin and Ashalina. “My Glamour
“Yes, yes,” Zebryl agreed impatiently. “Come along, now, Robin. Do keep up. We have a long walk ahead of us and we cannot dilly-dally in these parts any longer.” The incubus made to put his arm around his sister’s waist, not for the first time since escaping their HomeBase
Robin barely heard them over the squelching of his cheap, water-logged boots and the scuffing they made against the sidewalk. “Why don’t we take the bus or something?”
Yarya growled and stopped the group in their tracks. She whirled to face Robin with smoke in her eyes. “Listen, you tail-less nitwit. You should be thankful we didn’t leave you to be eaten by the FeralsFey
Robin petulantly kept walking past the group his head drooped to keep the trickling rain out of his eyes. Betty’s Santa hat felt heavy as the knitted fabric was entirely soaked. In contrast, the cheap vinyl of his vest and shorts clung uncomfortably to his skin as it neither breathed nor soaked up much rain. He’d probably end up getting chaffed.
The succubus lashed out with one strong arm bringing him to a sudden stop. Her clawed hand dug dangerously into his shoulder. She might be only partially healed from her fight with the archangel, but her strength was still all strengthy and stuff. She could probably snap his clavicle like an overcooked Thanksgiving turkey bone. “Do not test my ire, Mystic
It was Robin’s turn to whirl around. He raised his voice not caring if he sounded shrill, “What, Yaritza? It was fault you decided to cock off and assault a FeralNestmy fault you ran into that big bad angel boss you’ve got beef with? And it’s also fault Betty’s house just got blown up by a bunch of fucking garden-style harpies?” Robin gave Martiposa an apologetic look. “No offense, Marti, I’m just really sick of getting blamed for everyone’s snot-spackled bad decisions. Where are we going, anyway?”
Yarya barely disguised a small hiss as one of her many wounds must have twinged. “My plan is to use our combined might to claim that FeralHomeBaseUndead
He didn’t look entirely approving of the idea, but Zebryl was nothing if not supportive of his sister. “Even with Yarya being at less than full power, the rest of us ought to be more than a match for whatever pathetic burrow beggars are still there. If we are truly lucky, those commando FeyFolk
“Fucking fabulous,” Robin snipped. “This all sounds about as thought out as a toddler’s play date. I’m not going to take part in it. Y’all can go bugger that firehouse foxhole all you want. Ashalina, are you going along with this insanity?”
The zombie slowly nodded, her red hijab now gaping unpleasantly in several places revealing claw-slashed and dilapidated flesh. “I am a member of this cabal
“Blarg! What about you Martiposa?” Robin hoped he had at least one ally in standing up to the devil siblings. “You’re not a member of this cabal
The pixie’s fingers fluttered like a flute-player’s along the stem of his intricate magic wand, the device that was probably keeping them illusorily disguised as basic beige people. “While I am most committed to your wellbeing, friend Robin, I do think it very wise to stay with your clan as the repercussions of breaking ties can be… messy.”
Yarya stabbed a warning finger at Robin’s face. “Right now, you are going to prove your value to this cabal
“And exactly how do you propose I go about doing that?”
“By Converting
“You mean right here? Right now?” Robin spluttered. He flapped his arms at the soggy neighborhood of cookie-cutter suburban houses.
“I say ‘right now’,” she warned hotly, steam beginning to rise from her scalp as the light rain came in contact with it. “Do not make me repeat myself.”
“Nope.” Robin crossed his arms.
Yarya’s clawed hand flared open looking ready to clasp his neck. Fire burst from her eyelashes. “Do it now or my next act is to cauterize your dick shut.”
“Fine by me,” Robin retorted, childishly. “I can still bottom.”
“Then next I shall cremate your colon and leave your butt hole Corn Flake crispy.”
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
How she knew what Corn Flakes were, he had no idea, but if all she was going to do was bluster, Robin would count this as a win toward his autonomy. Did he dare attempt to Charm
Yarya coughed and suddenly clutched her sides. A not insignificant amount of ruby blood dribbled from her lips likely indicating internal injuries were still at work.
Zebryl gasped and pulled his sister into his arms hugging her like a lost teddy bear. “Is it the Smite
“What’s a ‘smite’?” Robin asked.
The devils paid the question no heed. Martiposa rose up on tiptoes to talk softly in Robin’s ear. “It has been rumored that Raflili can, with one tremendous blow of CelestialEssence crush a Player
Robin had not even noticed the pixie standing at his shoulder. He turned to Martiposa, “So, a one-hit-death-blow kinda thing?”
Martiposa shook his head slowly, sadly. “No, you misunderstand me. Not death. -exsitence. Erased from reality. Never to come back, never to go home. Perhaps, never to have been at all — any where, any when.”
“Complete oblivion?”
“Yes.” The pixie turned to Ashalina. “Though, to be fair, I am most impressed with Yarya’s fortitude, to have escaped in the first place and still carry you with her. She is most extraordinary.” His admiration of the succubus appeared entirely lost on the zombie as she simply stood still, arms limp at her sides.
It was Robin’s turn to whisper to Martiposa as the devils dug around their pockets looking for spare FearConvert
The pixie smiled wistfully and his wings drooped even further. “No, friend Robin. I am staying. If you did, truly, send my precious blossom home to Paradise, I would ask you do the same for me. Even if that means I must turn red and join your cabal
Robin was floored. Did Marti actually think that ridiculous frisbee gift had somehow made a portal to the feyrelic
“I saw quite clearly the place you sent her. There is nothing like it in all creation, I am quite sure.”
“Maybe it was some sort of illusion like what you’re casting over us right now?” Robin countered, trying not to sound contrary.
“Perhaps,” Martiposa said quietly. “But I think… no, I to believe that it was home. For the first time in all my centuries here, I have finally been blessed with a grain of hope.”
“Centuries?! Really? How old you?”
The pixie shrugged. “Time seems to move similarly here as it did in Paradise, so I think I must be nearly 500 years old. I have been here for almost half my existence.”
three times and we can all go home?
“Get moving,” Yarya commanded. Her voice sounded strong but she was finally allowing Zebryl to help her walk. The ragged, sopping wet cabal
Robin wanted to consult his Instruction Manual, but was afraid the rain might ruin it. “Martiposa, you wouldn’t happen to have an umbrella spell or something?”
Martiposa shook his head. “Why don’t you pull one out of your bag?”
“I wish,” Robin snorted. “First off, I can’t gift
“Then gift it to me.”
“I could, but in order to make something last longer than like, 30 seconds, I have to invest a fuck-ton of Attribute
“You are wanting to read your guidebook, no?”
“Yeah, I figure it might have some answers,” Robin admitted. “Though, to be fair, it might also just sass me.”
Martiposa chuckled lightly, the laugh absent its usual bell-tone timbre of joy. ‘Yes, yes. Whatever intelligence is behind those things, it is assuredly a jester. My own guidebook has a most indelicate sense of humor. It has even gone so far as to shame my gardening prowess. But you need not worry. The books are quite durable and the rain shall not harm it.”
Relieved, Robin reached in his Santa Sackrelic
Well howdy diddly do! Looks like you’ve gotten yerself all un-housed once again and yer hittin’ the open range lookin’ fer a new stead to make all homey.
As to your prized Santa Sack, the news is probably less desirable than you desire. Yes, you did send someone to their species’ home world, and no, you cannot do it again, you silly gate-making goose.
“So that means, uh—” Robin looked to Martiposa for a name prompt.
“Barbaraleta,” Martiposa filled in, as he had been reading along with Robin.
“Yeah, Barbaraleta. I really sent her to the feyFolk
Yes indeedy-do-dah-all-day you did!
Sadly for you and everyone else in your piss-poor posse of ne’er-do-wells, each Gift you create is unique. One of kind. Bespoke, even. You can never replicate the same exact item or the same exact magical effect again. Yer a one-an’-done-thank-you-son kinda guy.
“FUUUUUUUUKKKKKKKK!” Robin howled. He hurled the book as far down the lane as he could. It landed inoffensively on someone’s front lawn looking all closed up, unharmed and tidy. He dropped to his knees not caring how much it hurt or that he might actually injure his janky left knee. He was stuck here. For. Fucking. Ever.
The devils stopped and turned around. “By the inferno, what is the matter now?” Zebryl demanded.
Robin gave the incubus the middle finger.
“I believe, Master Zebryl,” Martiposa intoned diplomatically, “Our friend was hoping he was in possession of a tool that could end everyone’s captivity on this world.”
“Why would we want that?” Yarya asked. “There’s nothing better in Hell for half-breeds like us. This place is perfect.”
“Well, speaking for myself, all my family is now back in Paradise.” Martiposa patted one hand soothingly on Robin’s head, though Robin could barely feel the gentle gesture through the knitted fabric of the EDFedora
“Hm,” the succubus replied, in a clipped tone.
Martiposa continued, “It turns out each item Robin conjures from this relic
“It is not ‘all the same’,” Yarya voiced dangerously, her eyes smoldering and ready to ignite. “You will join us this very moment.”
“I most assuredly will not.” Martiposa’s knees bent and his wings flared as he prepared to launch into the air.
Ashalina took one step closer and hit the pixie directly in the sternum. The sound of bone crunching was like stale corn chips getting ground in a mortar and pestle. The pixie collapsed to the sidewalk.
Yaritza bent over, plucked Robin bodily off the pavement and held him by the back of the neck over the groaning feyManConvertMystic
Robin sobbed in despair and sympathy, tears lost in the drizzle, as he felt compelled to comply. He didn’t know how the process was supposed to work so the only thing he could think to do was Gift AttributeNaughty & Nice
He reached into the sack and pulled out a delicate-looking but surprisingly dense and heavy necklace. More of a choker, really. It was fashioned out of dozens of thin metal flower petals, each one adorned with a tiny red ruby at the tip. It glittered brightly for one brief moment despite there being no sunshine.
Yarya’s clawed hand snatched it away after releasing Robin. She fastened it around Martiposa’s neck. The pixie looked up with pleading eyes as his wet green pants shifted hue to Infernal
No matter how magnificent the jewelry looked on Martiposa's dark skin, to Robin, it looked like a slave collar.