Here come the Comedians - Magnus/Lucrezia/Sinew/any

[Atrani]

Atrani

To say the group is passable would be a lie. There are voices, gravelly like the rocks that scrape down the volcano sides, but also sweet like the first bloomings of the spring. With a broad expanse of noise and smells, Atrani finds herself drawn forward. Tephra is still a winding maze of divots and hills, but she navigates with a meticulous step and a curious mind. Her ears are reaching for their voices, desperate to hear their commotion, and she hears some of it, but certainly not all.

Outsiders, and she considers them warily but curiously. She isn’t exactly a native here, but her skin at least reeks of the arid smoke and humidity. They – their voices more barbed and mistrusting – carry with them the reek of decay and dirt. Atrani doesn’t know these lands, not much more than the no-name island, Tephra, and the meadow. Their oddities strike her as distinct and new, their purposes unknown yet alluring as they are addressed.

Left. Right. Left.

She focuses heavily on where she walks, but not to whom she walks to. With her senses groping for the strangers, the child breaks the invisible fortification dividing the groups. They stand facing each other, accusing someone of lies and offering a facetious glance into Tephra. Pushing past it all without even a moment’s hesitation, Atrani reaches forward and presses her lips to Pollock’s shoulder. She breathes him in – only him – while gliding her lips to the base of his neck. ”And what is Pangea about?” She returns his question with a voice of ice as she pulls away from his skin and peers up with her empty socks. ”What are you about?”

There is so much to him that she doesn’t know, but she can nearly taste it – feel it – as she stands in his wake before all others, a child facing the wasteland’s king, unafraid and blind to their advances.

dove into her eyes and starved all the fears

picture by haenuli shin- HTML by Call - words: ________

[Pollock]

Enter again the sweet forest
     Enter the hot dream
       Come with us

The fun is short lived.
Such a shame.

He had wondered when the moment would come, when all of them would look at each other and understand, entirely, what was going on. It would tell him how smart they were; it would tell them how soft their underbelly was.

He did not have to wait long.

His eyes settle heavy on Lucrezia after Sinew introduces herself, keeping all manner of unsavory thoughts to herself. ‘How far you have risen,’ she quips, no disdain hidden between her teeth—she lets it be known and it clashes elegantly with her smile. (No. Indeed, they are all quite smart.) He nods. “Yes. My predecessor found me a fitting successor,” is his simple, flat reply; and everyone else had failed to show face after failing to overtake another land.

He is an opportunist and he is a conqueror.
If she is surprised, she shouldn’t be. He has never had anywhere to go but up—until now.

“I’ll have to take you on your word, Lucrezia,” their strength, in truth, is hidden beneath thick, wild greenery—a shield Carnage had knocked aside in one mighty, breathless blow. A shield he had never thought to care about.

He captains a pirate ship, you see.

What he has is a tangled web of beasts—magicians, krampus and harbingers—all manner of nasty things that bump in the night, all flying in errant directions, locking teeth and biting at each other’s throats. He has some still doubting him (a shame)—he has some doubting themselves (fixable). He would never call them grand—they are a rat’s nest, plague-bearing and hungry. But strong?

If chaos can be harnessed.

He parts his cracked lips to reply to Magnus, to tell him they have seen enough, when Ellyse speaks up again. He suspects, many listen when she does. He turns his dark, stern gaze to her, a grin tweaking his lips, 

(oh, how they clamor for her!)
He bites down hard, the tendons across his cheeks flexing as he does;
(he keeps them healed, keeps them contained; he tells them to wait)

“Unkind,” he grunts, his voice unwavering, but his lip twitches, “our business has concluded, for now. I think you will find, Ellyse, that I have found some things of value already. I am very astute. If you have any questions, Magnus, Lucrezia, ask. If not, do feel free to visit. I’d hate to rob you of that opportunity.” He shifts, touches his shoulder to Sinew’s, hesitating for a moment, in case she has something more to add.

And then he sees her, tottering and wayward, and his sniffs indignantly.

She touches him before he can move from her blind path, and when the soft, warm poke of her muzzle meets his tight shoulder he freezes, eyes fixed forwards. His ears tip back as he counts the ways he could he make her cry—the ways he could make her still are fewer, more crude. He is caught, like an animal in a cage, between instinct and decorum.

“Nothing,” he grunts, through bared teeth, and it is not a lie. Not entirely. Pangea is barbarous and uncivilized, what they are about is indefinite and wild. “Freedom.” As usual, words mutate into ask in his mouth. As she pulls away he inhales, he wonders how discreet he can be—

Best not to try now, while tensions are high.
Lucky girl.

“You wouldn’t understand,” he speaks slowly, head bowed slightly to her ear. He looks back to Magnus, something different in his eyes—a seething, a warning. Man-to-man, ‘get the girl away from me.’

the gift-giver