We'll Never Speak of This

Even as Saffron continued to lay into the man with punch after uninterrupted punch, she had to wonder if continuing to hit him was the best idea. In her experience, opponents that deliberately chose not to avoid taking damage did so for one of two reasons: Either because they were so powerful that the incoming attacks meant very little to them, or because – much like herself – they drew some kind of power or benefit from taking damage. Unfortunately, there was no way to know for sure what the man’s reasoning was, though given everything she’d observed of him so far she was reasonably confident it was the former. Or at least, she really hoped it wasn’t the latter. If he got stronger from being hit like she did, then this was simply going to be a match of endurance, and while Saffron was confident in her abilities she knew she would be heavily outmatched in that particular contest.

He seemed more focused on her words than anything else, mulling over her statements and expressing his amused bafflement at how supposedly uninformed she was. He wasn’t at all impressed by her taking up the defense of the du Wolffs over her own life, but Saffron wasn’t trying to impress or intimidate him. She scoffed when he told her that she needed to take his actions as a compliment. “Yeah, sure thing, buddy. I’ll get right on that,” was her only reply, her tone dripping with sarcasm and disinterest.

She swung again and he caught her fist rather easily – no surprise, seeing as how the man wasn’t doing anything to hit her back yet. Sure, she could get some kinetic energy out of hitting other people or objects, but it wasn’t nearly as much as when she was on the receiving end. What was it going to take to get this fugly bastard to hit her, already? Saffron growled under her breath, but didn’t make much of an effort to try and get him to let go, only staring him down defiantly with an unwavering glare as he informed her that he wasn’t really all that loyal to Xavier, nor any other Rhaegarians for that matter.

Frankly, he didn’t really seem to have that much respect for his homeland and his kin. Xavier only provided him a means to enact his violent desires, which did fall perfectly in line with her accusation about murdering du Wolffs. Apparently, he had done most of that personally, a tidbit of knowledge that only served to make Saffron angrier, though she controlled it well. In fact, the mention of his mercenary title drew a derisive snort from her nostrils. “Seriously? The ‘Wolf Hunter’? Just when I thought you couldn’t get any more lame. What Rhaegarians were you hanging around with, because the ones I know are not that painfully unoriginal.”

Before she could berate him any more, he released her hand, and much as he anticipated, Saffron didn’t waste any time following up with an attempt at a strike. Yet he moved like some wild animal, dropping down and twisting his body out of the way in a fashion that Saffron was almost entirely certain bodies weren’t supposed to be able to bend. Rather than follow it up with another attack, Saffron took a step or two back and adjusted into a readied stance. She was done trying to hit him without any reciprocation. If he wanted to fight, then she would make him actually fight.

Instead, he chose to do more talking, feeling the need to relay that the only person he’d ever trusted and been loyal to was his sister, Beatrix. Saffron… honestly didn’t know much about Themescyia’s adoptive mother. The du Wolffs really didn’t talk about her much, at least not when Saffron was around. The blonde earnestly had no impression of the woman, though this man’s self proclaimed loyalty to Beatrix was perhaps Saffron’s first inclination that Vandrad’s family wasn’t always as close knit and unified as it was today. Whatever the history was there, she was sure she’d hear it soon enough. Assuming she survived this, of course.

Finally, he spat out a mouthful of blood and announced he was ready to get back into it, demanding that she actually put some effort into the physical exchange. Seberg accused her of being tactical rather than giving the fight her all, which wasn’t true of course, but he hardly knew that. “Well, if you’re through monologuing-”

Her sentence would remain incomplete as he finally rushed her, weirdly and creepily dropping down on all fours and leaping at her like a beast of the field. Saffron barely managed to get her arm up in time, tanking the brunt of his kick with her hidden mechanical arm, the device soaking in the ethernano of the blow and storing it. Unfortunately, not only was he powerful, he was frighteningly fast. Before she had enough time to recover from the first strike, the kick sending jets of pain down her arm into her shoulder that left the whole side of her body feeling tingly, he was already kicking her again at full strength. It felt like Vandrad was pummeling her in his cobalt form, which she had very little exposure to… though thankfully, she did have some exposure to it. It wasn’t enough to truly prepare her for putting up a defense, but at the very least she’d be able to maintain consciousness and remain upright through the ensuing beat down.

Even if she wanted to try dodging or redirecting his attacks, Saffron was more than well aware that she wouldn’t be able to. Not only was he moving far too fast for her to keep up with, but his movements lacked any and all discipline that she was used to. There was no strategy, no form, no style – just pure instinct. It all happened so fast that it was nothing more than a blur, the blonde taking hit after hit after hit at full force, practically being punched around like a rag doll. But more than that, she could feel her body practically becoming supercharge far beyond any level she’d ever tested before, and it was coming on so fast that she very nearly couldn’t process it as quickly as it happened.

Finally, one of his blows sent her flying across the room, and much like Rogier earlier, Saffron found herself fighting through a haze of grayed vision as she slumped forward onto her hands and knees from a crater in the wall behind her. Gasping for breath, she coughed up a wad of blood onto the floor, her lungs and the rest of her body practically on fire, she physically wrestled with controlling the amount of power that was shooting through her veins, struggling to stabilize herself in a way she hadn’t done for nearly a year.

Then, she suddenly let out a deep bellied roar, and the room around them quite literally exploded, with her at the epicenter of the blast. The entire top half of the building simply disintegrated into dust as a bright and blinding golden light flooded the area, shooting up into the sky and out like a veritable beacon that could be seen from just about everywhere in the underwater city. The weight of the explosion shook the surrounding structures violently.

Then finally, as the light receded, he would see Saffron forcing herself to her feet, the action still taking some effort despite her insane increase in power due to how beaten up she was. She was almost a completely different woman than a few seconds ago. An aura of burning golden light rippled off of her body, and her thick blonde locks had practically been turned into pure golden-white flames. Her head was somewhat slumped on her shoulders as she pushed herself to stand, yet despite her almost sluggish stance, a coarse chuckle bubbled from her throat. “Took you fucking long enough. Anyone ever tell you you talk too damn much?”

She lifted her head up to look at him, her gaze still crimson in rage even as she gave him a smirk. Using the back of her hand, Saffron wiped away the thick trail of blood that was dripping down from her mouth. Then, fighting stubbornly through the pain, she reset her stance with far more poise than someone with her injuries should have been able to hold, looking him dead in the eyes in fearless contempt. “Get fucked, poser.”

With absolutely no warning, the blonde would practically seem to disappear from where she stood, moving so quickly that a lesser trained individual might think she had simply teleported behind him. Her leg was already swinging as she materialized, aiming to kick right through his midsection with all the speed and strength of her newfound power, which was no longer quite so distant from his own. She would continue to assail him with punches and kicks, elbows and knees, her potential for damage output continuing to increase without a cap in sight the more they battled.

This must have been what it felt like to fight herself.

Saffron had taken quite a pummeling in his first attack, enough to severely cut through the vast difference between their powers and put herself on a level where he was much closer to her reach. But with every continued blow back and forth, the gap between them seemed to plateau, despite her steady increase in strength and speed. The two were sending one another into an upward peak, and damnit if it wasn’t more than a little infuriating. But Saffron had known where she stood before this fight had even begun, and she wasn’t aiming to beat him. Though she was certainly giving the fight all of her focus, she was merely stalling the man and doing what it took to stay alive until Scourge could get back.

On and on the fight went, both sides giving and taking in equal measure on the beatings until Saffron and Seberg both landing simultaneous hits that kicked them both back and away from one another, creating some distance and giving them room to breathe. As he wiped blood from his face, Saffron hacked up another frighteningly large wad of thick fresh blood, spitting it unceremoniously onto the ground. Between the crimson ichor leaving a familiar copper taste in the mouth, and the burning, stabbing pain in her torso, she was pretty certain that more than one of her ribs was broken, and probably punctured some of her organs to cause some internal breathing. Every time her body sucked in oxygen it burned her lungs like a wildfire.

Seberg validated himself regarding his prediction about her strength, once again making an attempt at complimenting her that was received with all the enthusiasm of a blind man at a ballet show. He questioned how long her spirit was going to be willing to keep up the fight, remarking that none had ever managed to best whatever stupid ability he had, though he was eager to put that to the test with her. Forcing her body into submission, she reset her fighting stance once more. “Don’t you worry, you fugly bastard; I can do this all damn day.”

Saffron very much could not do this all damn day. At this point it was a wonder she was even moving. Gaining strength and power from taking damage didn’t mean that the effects of the damage were negated, even a little. She could feel every once of her muscles screaming and crying out for mercy. All she wanted to do was give in and let the darkness overtake her so she could be done with this bullshit. Unfortunately for herself, she was far too stubborn to just lay down and die.

Thankfully, her reprieve was going to last a moment longer. The sound of a whip cracking caught both their attentions as Rogier, beaten half to hell and back but alive, ensnared Seberg’s robotic buddy with her weapon, paralyzing the thing with a massive surge of electricity. Saffron was grinning wide at the woman’s fortuitous return to consciousness, and was about to make a poorly timed flirtatious comment when a pink blade forced its way through the robot’s body, cutting it to ribbons. The figure moved too quickly for her to keep up with, but despite having never seen Scourge in his top empowerment she didn’t need to see him to know it was him. Seberg was forced back by a phantom slug to the face, recovering quickly, though not quick enough to retaliate.

As Scourge finally appeared next to Saffron, she regarded his commentary with a tired, sly grin, keeping her eyes on their foe. “Yeah, well, I’ve been going easy on him. Didn’t wanna be the one to have all the fun. Had to make sure there was still something here for you to punch when you got back. Took your sweet time with that, by the way.” It would be very obvious, both to Scourge and Seberg, that she was just straight up lying about her bravado for the sake of bringing a little humor to an otherwise desperate situation. Saffron was fairly certain she wouldn’t have lasted much longer without Scourge there to back her up, but now that he was there she could feel a renewed surge of energy wash over her.

She did note, however, that Scourge’s demeanor was different than his usual, cheery self. Oh he was as calm and collected as ever, but there was an iciness to him now. A chilling aura of animosity that made even Vandrad at his surliest look like a fuzzy little kitten. Tossing aside a tooth, Seberg questioned Scourge’s continued existence, which earned him a rebuke about thinking such cheap tactics would have worked on the former Dread Master. Still, the man’s actions hadn’t been without effect. Apparently, he’d managed to well and truly piss Scourge off and pushing him past his prior limitations. And now, Seberg would have to deal with them both – much to the white haired man’s delight.

“He fights like a wild animal, and he’s got some kind of ability like mine,” Saffron told Scourge as she sank back into her fighting stance. “Not exactly the same, but similar in spirit. I haven’t sensed any kind of magical output from him, so it’s probably part of his Blood Marker.” She certainly didn’t have time to give him a dissertation, but in the interest of giving Scourge every advantage Saffron figured it was best to pass along what she’d learned through fighting him. “Just don’t fully eviscerate him, yeah? I wanna string up all his fingers and toes into a necklace and give it to Themmy for Christmas.”

Only a beat later did she launch herself back into the fray once more, taking the lead to throw herself at Seberg in an effort to keep him busy so Scourge could find some openings to do his thing. Saffron’s primary focus was on keeping Seberg moving so he hopefully would have a harder time preparing himself for Scourge’s assaults. That being said, she also would keep her eyes open for any opportunities that were afforded to her while Seberg was busy being double teamed. And the moment she found an opening, Saffron jumped on it. Rearing back her fist for another hit, she funneled a bit of her stored power into the swing, hoping to catch him off guard with a quicker strike than what she’d been delivering him thus far. It wouldn’t matter if it actually hit him or not, all she needed was to get close. Then, without warning, a compartment on her arm would snap open, the magical enchantment masking her mechanical limb melting away as a deadly stiletto knife streaked toward him, past the usual reach of her fist, with lethal intent.

Saffron laughed at Scourge’s turning her own words back around on her, though the effort to do so was strained, the sound cut off slightly as she choked on a cough. “Please, I’m a fuckin’ catch and you know it.”

Somehow, someway, she managed to be only a beat behind her partner as they rushed Seberg in tandem, much to their opponent’s delight. Saffron took up the mantle of primary punching bag once more, doing her best to keep the man focused, while Scourge moved around her efforts and started familiarizing himself with Seberg’s odd battle style. Saffron had held on to revealing her mechanical arm for some time, hoping it could be an ace-in-the-hole. Which, in all fairness, had been the original reason behind her hiding it in the first place, though she had been expecting to fight slavers at the end of all this, not this… whackjob.

As soon as she saw her opening, Saffron gave herself an extra boost from her stored power with every intent of landing a fatal blow. Yet, she wasn’t the only one. Completely unaware of the mark on her forehead, she didn’t miss the rush of additional energy supercharging her beyond what she already had been, far beyond anything she’d ever experienced before. What happened next took place over the course of only a second or two. In the time that it took for her to finish swinging her fist, Seberg had sensed the incoming danger as if on instinct and attempted to back away from her, only to be sent rocketing closer toward the blonde when the crystalline shards Scourge had embedded in their enemy’s back exploded with enough force to counter the man’s attempted retreat. The knife sprung forward from Saffron’s arm, revealing the limb’s mechanical nature as she threw everything she had into the strike, hoping to take him out in a single blow.

Unfortunately, his instincts continued to compensate for him, the man managing to twist just enough that the knife missed the more vital areas of his body and instead sank into his shoulder. It was a deep wound, to be certain, but nothing that would put him at any greater of a disadvantage. With the flick of his wrist, he snapped the blade in half and put some distance between them with a quick bound. Growling in frustration, Saffron shook her arm to loosen it a bit as the camouflaging spell glittered away, leaving her metal arm in its true form, what was left of the blade snapping back into its hidden compartment.

“Damnit,” she grumbled under her breath, regrouping herself beside Scourge once more. This was bad. Even with the extra power Scourge was giving her on top of what she’d already built up and released, Saffron knew she was reaching her rope’s end. Any minute now she wasn’t going to be of much use any longer, and this prick looked like he still had plenty of charge in the tank. Her suspicion was confirmed as he ripped the broken weapon from his body, tossing it to the side with a wearied laugh, excited to unleash his “full strength”. “Oh come on, he gets worse? This is such bullshit…”

She could really feel how labored her breathing was, now. Or was that just the air? Saffron couldn’t see any kind of magical aura but the room felt heavy, like some kind of weight was pressing down on her from all sides. Yet before it could fully settle, a disembodied voice spoke up from the remains of the robot that Scourge and Rogier had dismembered, ordering Seberg to retreat. There was only a moment’s hesitation on Seberg’s side before he complained about having his fun ruined. Scourge protested the action and Saffron was hot on his heels with her agreement, taking every last reserve of energy from her arm and pumping it into her body for one final assault in the hopes that they could finish him off before he got away.

Frankly, she should have known it wouldn’t be that easy. With absolutely no explanation, he simply disappeared from where he was, and all over her body were red marks that had not been there before. Saffron wouldn’t even get a chance to question the change before the pain caught up to her, dozens of blows finding home with zero defense. Blinded by the pain, Saffron dropped to the ground without catching herself at all, her barbarian state flickering out as she poured all of her focus into merely trying to remain conscious. In truth, she didn’t even hear Seberg’s parting speech. By the time the ringing in her ears had died down enough for her to hear Scourge’s voice, their enemy was already long gone.

“Ng… get him..?” she asked deliriously, her voice muffled by the debris ridden floor that her face was currently planted into. The very act of speaking caused her body to revolt, and soon she was violently coughing up mouthfuls of blood onto the ground. She was in absolutely awful condition, and in desperate need of healing. Her body was practically on fire with agony. It felt like every bone in her body was broken, and she was fairly certain at least one of her organs was on the verge of failing from the internal bleeding. She didn’t even have the strength or wherewithal to push herself up, even with her synthetic arm, only able to lay there in a growing pool of her own blood and spit as unconsciousness threatened to overtake her.

Saffron woke rather abruptly, though her body remained relaxed. The first sight she was greeted with was an unfamiliar wicker roof and sheer white canopy over her head. There was a cool breeze breaking lightly through the pleasantly warm air. She was laying on an extremely comfortable bed. Carefully and slowly, Saffron sat up a bit, propping herself on her elbows to look around the room with a confused expression. She was in a cabana of some kind, with glass windows for walls with sheer white curtains all around, wooden floors, and bamboo furniture. And despite the fact that she had absolutely zero idea where she was or how she’d gotten there, for some reason she wasn’t all too alarmed.

Wherever she was, it was really nice. Sitting up further, she stretched and tried to get her bearings, causing the sheets to slide off of her down onto her lap. The moment she saw her clothing, the memories from the last week came rushing back to her at full force, particularly the fight at the top of the palace with that terrifying creep. Weirdly enough, she felt fine, even though the last thing she could remember was being pummeled half to death. Someone must have healed her. That or she was dead – which wasn’t all too far fetched an option, since her current setting was certainly up there in terms of her idea of heaven.

Then again, if she were dead and in heaven, she imagined she’d have her full body restored rather than still having to support the mechanical replacement. Pulling the limb up, she activated the digital screen to check the date and time. Only about a day had passed since her encounter with Seberg. Frankly, that wasn’t too bad, all things considered. With a groan, she pushed back the covers and slid off the bed, her body still a bit sore but no more than it ever was following a decent workout. A quick search discovered a small bathroom where she was able to relieve herself. There were a few toiletries out. Saffron didn’t dare risk a toothbrush, not knowing if one hadn’t been used yet, but she did find some mouthwash and gargled the fuck out of it before taking a brush to her hair.

Feeling a little better with some basic hygienics out of the way, she decided it was time to finally figure out what was going on. She stepped out onto the patio and out into the bright sunlight, holding up one of her arms to cover her eyes so she could look around. There was a figure nearby at the shoreline of the beach, standing just close enough to the water for it to lap around his feet. He was wearing different clothes and not facing her, but there was no mistaking the hair: It was Scourge. Stepping out onto the sand, she made her way over to him.

He sensed her approach and turned to glance at her, a smirk settling on his lips as he teased her about possibly sleeping through the entire beach haven experience for the sake of nursing off a few bruises. “Good enough to stomach the sight of your sorry ass, at least." She grinned her appreciation at his candor, returning it in kind before giving him a more serious answer. “Better than I have any right to feel, I’m sure. Honestly wasn't sure I was gonna make it for a while there. Since I don't have that handy ethernano regeneration you and Vandrad have, I'm gonna assume someone had some handy healing magic nearby?” Presuming he owned up to the deed, she'd give him an appreciative, and perhaps somewhat soft, nod. “Thanks for that." Stepping out a little further, she ventured a bit further into the water, the waves lapping up about halfway up her calves. A compartment on her arm snapped open and Saffron pulled out a pair of aviator sunglasses, putting them on her face as she glanced around.

“So, I’m gonna go out on a limb and assume we didn’t beat that creep. Last thing I remember is getting sucker punched half a million times. Where are we? Did Rogier make it..?” The last question caused her to turn back to Scourge, hoping for at least some good news.

Well, she was glad to hear Rogier was alive and doing relatively well. She hadn’t been as bad off as Saffron in terms of injuries, it seemed, though her state had left her without much by way of clothing. The other woman had made her way toward the mainland in a spare bathing suit to get some food and reach out to some of her contacts. As far as where they were, Scourge explained that it was a safehouse he’d claimed some time ago during his tenure with the Dread Masters. He recalled how much Saffron had rather enjoyed the sight of the beach before the start of their mission and figured it would be a nicer place to wake up to than the dreary and chaotic halls they had called home for the past six days. Her gaze followed his hand toward where the main land was with the full resort, where there were a number of buildings, taking note of its location in relation to them.

From there, he confirmed the resolution of the battle, stating that Seberg had used some kind of magic that allowed him to control time in order to ladle them with a bunch of cheap shots before they could react, effectively ending the fight. However, the man had seemingly chosen to spare their lives, and the way in which Scourge’s voice dripped with disdain showed how unwise he thought the choice was. “Not surprising,” Saffron said, crossing her arms with a scowl. “He wouldn’t shut up about strength. It was all he cared about. I’m sure an act of revenge and a round two is exactly what he’s hoping for.”

She was about to turn her line of questioning to the state of the city itself when Scourge beat her to the punch. Apparently, while she had been out recovering, he had returned to the underwater locale to see what had become of it. The place was all but destroyed, according to him, and any slaver that hadn’t managed to make it out in time was most assuredly dead. The controlling effects of Seberg’s blood had worn off by then, leaving the remaining slaves confused with no memory of what had happened. Scourge had thought it best to point Serilda and Mythal toward the area. While it wasn’t necessarily their jurisdiction, he had a feeling they were best suited to handle the survivors.

Saffron nodded. “Yeah, that was probably smart. Honestly, for something like that, I don’t think either of them would give a rip about jurisdiction anyway.” He inquired about her level of hunger, figuring that she likely had quite the appetite considering the form she’d unlocked of her magic. He’d gotten her clothes washed while she was out, figuring it was the least he could do since it was her attire, but his had been pretty much destroyed, leaving him with little options. “There’s a hot tub here? Oh hell yes, making use of that later.”

“I genuinely can’t remember the last time I’ve been this famished. It took a minute to get the dickwad to hit me back, but when he did, he didn’t exactly hold back from the get go. His opening beating for me felt like fighting against Vandrad at cobalt level. Van almost never puts me up against that empowerment. Not yet, anyway. He has a few times to shake things up and keep me from getting complacent, but I’m nowhere near being able to handle it consistently. Though at the very least, I’m sure the few times he did have me spar him at that level is the only reason I was able to find a way to fight through the supercharge.” She shook her head with a rueful smile. “Honestly, he should have just killed me out of mercy. Vandrad’s gonna give me a fate worse than death when I get back home – so needless to say, I ain’t in any hurry to leave.”

She was quiet for a moment, thinking back on the fight with a somewhat contemplative expression. Finally, she sighed. “You should know: Seberg told me a few things before you got back. Nothing pertaining to Maker, but.. Still pretty bad. He’s related to Vandrad’s family.” Saffron glanced up at Scourge, giving him a moment to process the implication before she went on. “Apparently his sister, Beatrix, was Vandrad’s grandmother, Themmy’s adoptive mother. He’s never really talked about his grandmother much, but Seberg said his sister was pretty much the only person he ever cared about or was loyal to. If they were close, then I can only imagine that she wasn’t that stellar of a person. But he claims to be the individual solely responsible for hunting and killing du Wolffs back on Rhaegar after the war…”

It was a horrific realization, that a man had taken such joy and pride in killing his own relatives, even if it was only a relation through marriage. In a sick way, he was still family. “I’m going to have to let Vandrad know, and the rest of his family. Maybe some of the survivors from Rhaegar know of him and can give us some more information.”

Once that topic was seemingly over, seeing as how there wasn’t much they could do about it for the time being, Saffron elected to put it out of her mind for now. Clapping her hands together with a grin, she perked up a bit. “Well, let’s go get something to eat. But first and foremost: shopping. I think I’ve had enough of this outfit to last me a lifetime.”

Once they were ready, the pair popped over to the mainland where Saffron wasted no time strolling into the nearest boutique she could find. She emerged a number of minutes later with brand new attire more befitting tropical comfort: A cutoff pair of jean shorts with a sheer purple skirt liner flowing from the back, and an orange button up shirt that she’d tied up around her chest. A yellow bikini top poked through from beneath the shirt while a necklace with a purple gem dangled just above her ample cleavage, and her voluptuous hair was pulled back into a thick pony tail. She was also carrying a bag that suggested she had found more things to purchase than just her current outfit. “Alright, now I’m ready for some food. Any recommendations?”

Saffron nodded. “Apex Predator, yeah.” An accurate title, given the way he had moved on the battlefield. Saffron just knew she was going to be doing research for the rest of her life on any kind of advantage over him that she could get her hands on. And from the sound of things, Scourge was of the same mindset.

He mentioned that Rogier had been tickled by his association with the Rune Knights, which drew a grin from his blonde companion. “I can’t say I blame her. A big bad Dread Master being all chummy with the cops; it does sound a little far fetched.” Granted, Saffron had zero idea exactly how chummy he was, the woman totally unaware that he straight up worked for Serilda and Mythal at this point. Scourge went on, suggesting that they stay on the island resort for a few days, as well earned recuperation from the last week of bullshit and discomfort, provided that she didn’t mind his continued presence. Saffron gave him a slow, sly smirk. “I guess that depends on how much more cuddling you’re gonna want to do.”

Before they took off, she gave him the brief low down about what Seberg had told her regarding his relationship to Vandrad’s family. Scourge admitted that the Dread Master really had never learned much about Bacchus and his wife, and Vandrad had never told him any of concern regarding Beatrix, but Scourge wasn’t exactly the sort that the former prince would confide in. Either way, he agreed informing the du Wolffs was the next logical step, particularly if it would mean getting more information on their newest enemy.

A bit later they found themselves on the main island, and Saffron had finally changed clothes for the first time in a week, happily purchasing a couple new outfits since it seemed they were probably going to stay for at least a couple days to recover. She was pleasantly surprised to walk outside and find Rogier waiting beside Scourge, the woman sporting quite the new girl. “Damn, girl,” Saffron said, stepping back for a moment to take in the sight, giving the woman a grin at the compliment to her fashion sense. “A little ass-whooping goes a long way toward impulsive shopping sprees, and my ass got handed to me six ways from Sunday, so needless to say my bank account is not prepared. But you look downright foine. I absolutely dig your new look.”

Saffron asked about ideas for food, and Scourge suggested a nearby joint that was a swim up bar for hibachi – which frankly, was all he had to say. “You had me at swim up.” Shifting her bag to her offhand, Saffron offered Rogier a gentlemanly arm and a winning smile, wordlessly offering to escort the woman along the way. When they got there, Saffron stripped out of the new shorts and top she had bought to reveal a yellow bikini she’d thrown on beneath. Shoving her clothes into the bag and jamming it into a rental locker, she happily sank into the pool with the other two and enjoyed the feel of the warm water on her lower torso as they shuffled their way across the shallow basin to the waiting grill. Saffron ordered a rum punch in a large glass that was meant for two people to share.

When the alcohol arrived, she took a nice big sip with a contented hum. “Nothing like a little day drinking.” The cook came over to take their orders and before long he was putting on quite the show. Saffron had heard about hibachi style eating before, but she’d never experienced it herself. It was an absolute blast. She thoroughly enjoyed watching the man perform all sorts of fun and skillful tricks as he cooked, with displays of fire and even entertaining them by flicking food into the air for them to catch with their mouths. When the show was finished and the food was plated, Saffron had to be mindful of her manners to not wolf it down. It was honestly one of the best things she’d ever eaten, and she said as much, more than happy to leave quite the tip for the man.

The trio spent the day hanging out until it was time for Rogier to take her leave. By this point Saffron had done a fair bit of drinking, and while she was certainly nowhere near sloshed the blonde was certainly a bit more peppy and touchy than usual. She made sure to give Rogier a nice big dip kiss to send her on her way, thanking the woman for all of her help over the last week. And then she was off, and it was just Saffron and Scourge.

Not interesting in squandering her impromptu vacation, Saffron dragged Scourge around for a bit to see some of the nightlife of the resort. She’d never been anywhere this nice before, and she was all too happy to enjoy every moment of it. The blonde continued to drink steadily, imbibing enough to keep her in a nice place with a happy buzz but not enough to be outright drunk. At some point they stopped to listen to a live band that was performing in a small amphitheater on the beach. She was pretty keen on the band’s style, and the lead singer was pretty talented – easy on the eyes, too. When they were ready to depart, Saffron swung by a table and bought a CD of their latest album to listen to later.

Eventually, they made it back to the cabana and Saffron was once again stripping out of her clothes into her bathing suit. “Alright, you talked up a mad game about that jacuzzi. I’ve been thinking about it all day.” Stopping in the kitchenette first to grab a couple of beers from the fridge, Saffron flicked the caps off with her thumb and passed one of the bottles off to Scourge. With only a slightly wobbly equilibrium, she climbed over the edge of the jacuzzi and sank down to her shoulders. “Fuuuuuuuuuuuck,” the Fairy Tail mage practically groaned, closing her eyes and letting the hot water soothe her sore muscles. “I completely get why Rogier just stayed here all night. This is better than sex.”

After a couple minutes of relaxing, she sat up a little a took a swig from her beer. “So! What’s next for you after all this? I can’t imagine there’s a whole lot more to follow up with on this particular mission.”

“Man, imagine having access to a jacuzzi whenever you want, and never using it. That’s some bullshit.”

The pair made themselves comfortable, with Saffron being rather obviously inebriated, though not to the point of acting all too out of character. She asked him what was next and he admitted that there was not much else he could do about this particular venture, which had only drummed up more questions than answers. As far as he could see, the next plan was to inform Vandrad and the du Wolffs about what they had learned. He also needed to figure out what to do next about Maker, who was clearly further along in his nefarious misdeeds that Scourge had anticipated.

But for tonight, his only concern was soaking in the spa, drinking excessively, and apparently doting upon his “lovely wife”. She gave him a knowing smirk, taking a sip of her beer without comment – for the moment, at least. He turned the question back around on her, wondering if she planned on getting back to life as usual or shaking things up a bit. “Oh trust me, I don’t do routines. The most routine I get is allowing Vandrad to kick my ass most mornings for training. After that, I don’t usually have any specific recurring plans. Sometimes I take a job or practice my music, sometimes I hang out with friends or just take a nice drive around on my bike. I just can’t stay cooped up for too long. Boredom is my worst nightmare, and sadly I am easily prone to it.”

Adjusting herself to sit a little more comfortably, she rested her arms out along the rim of the jacuzzi. “If I’m being honest, I’ve never really had a whole lot of drive for… much of anything. Outside of working out and staying fit, there’s never really been anything that can hold my interest or passion enough to make it a regular part of my time and energy. I know I joke around a lot, but sometimes I really envy people like you and Vandrad and Mercury. All of you seem to know what your purpose in life is. You have all your special skills and your goals, things that push you forward. And don’t get me wrong, I’m plenty confident in myself and my abilities, and for all my mouthiness and complaining I take pride in getting my work done when I have it, but I don’t really have anything in my life to work toward right now, and I never really have. I just like adventure and danger and surprises.”

“And right now, the next surprise I’m looking forward to is seeing what your idea of ‘doting on your lovely wife’ entails.” A slow grin crept up her lips and Saffron took another swig from her bottle. “I take it you don’t have a lucky gal or guy waiting at home for you to suffocate them with all your supposed charms?”

With an amused shake of the head, Scourge informed her that he’d never really had any kind of person in his life, romantically speaking, outside of the occasional dalliance into a casual lay here and there. It had never been a priority for him, what with his role in the Dread Masters and what not. In fact, he wagered it had been about over a year since the last time he’d even had that kind of interaction. She nodded her understanding while he chuckled and remarked about how quickly time flew.

He changed topics then, swerving back to something she had said before, finding it humorous that she thought he had any sense of direction for his life. He had certain aims he was seeking to achieve, such as locating Maker and the remainder of the Dread Masters, but he said that was less of a purpose and more taking responsibility for his own past actions. He’d been attempting to find a purpose for some time in saving the world from gods and demons, but despite everything the masters had instilled in him since childhood, it was a more regurgitative existence rather than a sincere one. That, and while he was meant to be a clone of his genetic predecessor, that did not make him an exact replica. He was still his own person, with his own thoughts, emotions, experiences, and beliefs – but he’d never really known how much of that was actually him, and how much was genetic, so to speak.

Well, now Saffron felt a little silly. She’d never really stopped to look at it that way. Granted, she’d really only known him for like a week and had only recently been introduced into his life story, but in retrospect it seemed a pretty natural conclusion to draw. “Yeah… I guess that’s fair. I hadn’t thought of it that way.” Scourge went on to admit that he kept the routines he did pretty much out of habit, and also a bit of self admitted pride when it came to his physique. Saffron grinned. “I’ll drink to that..!” And she did, lifting the bottle to her lips and taking a hearty swig from it.

He went into a small aside about his observances of her, calling her a wanderlust that enjoyed traveling and seeing what the world had to offer. He figured that eventually she’d find whatever, or whoever, would bring her a sense of purpose, but in the meantime he encouraged her to simply enjoy what she wanted to enjoy and not worry too much about the rest. With a genuine, if somewhat pensive smirk, she clinked her glass against his and took yet another drink.

Then it was her turn to answer questions about her love life, the man wondering if he needed to be concerned about any retaliation from one or more partners back home. She laughed. “Multiple partners? Man, you’re giving me credit for way more game than I actually have. But no, only one you gotta be worried about is Vandrad. Honestly, he’s probably going to be more mad at you than at me, so. You know. Good luck with that.”

For a moment it seemed that was where she was going to end the topic, a slight thoughtfulness breaking through the buzzed glaze of humor on her face. Then, she held up one of her hands and extended a few fingers from it. “Three years. My last relationship crashed and burned… pretty hard. We’d been together for about two years, and if I’m being honest only about the first four months of it were any good. She was…” Her voice trailed off for a moment as she searched for the appropriate word. “A lot. Manipulative, controlling, always jealous of any time I spent with my army buddies. She accused me several times of cheating on her, threatened to kill herself when I tried to break up with her, and then after I finally did break up with her she started stalking me. The whole works. Kinda turns you off to romance for a bit, yknow?” There was a wry smirk on her face, a display of genuine, if dry, humor in the face of an otherwise very serious matter.

Using her beer to try and mask what was very obviously a lingering emotional struggle for her, she chugged the rest of the liquid inside. With a bit more of a lighthearted expression, she set the bottle down. “So no, I’ve been taking some much needed time to be single and just focus on myself – whatever the hell that means.”

It had been a long time since Saffron had really thought about everything with Addie, and it had been even longer since she’d talked to someone about it. Truth be told, she had never actually opened up to anyone about it in detail. Once the relationship had ended, she had more or less shut down and forced herself forward, only talking about it as minimally as she had to in order to let others in her life know that they were no longer dating. She had brushed off any attempts to get her to talk about it, even with her father. Maybe it was the alcohol, or the recent near death experience, but this conversation with Scourge was the most that Saffron had ever talked about it with anyone.

Still, it was a bit of a downer. Here she was bitching about her abusive ex when they were both supposed to be on vacation. She was sure that Scourge didn’t mind, as he seemed the type to enjoy deep and genuine conversation, but that didn’t change the fact that they were there to relax and have a good time, and here she was stomping the mood into the ground. Saffron was only a little surprised when he reached over and took her hand, though she didn’t pull away or stop him from doing so. Gently, he gave his condolences for what she’d gone through, and his thoughts that no one should have to endure something like that. She didn’t say the first thought that popped into her head, which was essentially blaming everything on herself. That would just prompt him to try and reassure her that it wasn’t, and Saffron wasn’t really ready to have that argument or go down that rabbit hole.

But, it was… nice… to have been able to mention it and have someone provide some measure of comfort about it without overwhelming her with pity. “Thanks,” was her only soft, but genuine, response. He released her hand and continued, assuring her that she had done a good job on doing what she needed to do to move forward with her life, at least as far as he could observe from the brief time they’d known one another. Taking a hiatus from serious relationships was healthy, and he believed she had made the right choice. With that out of the way, he polished off his own drink and offered to get them refills. “You fuckin’ bet.” Saffron gave him a big grin, even as he collected her empty bottle and hopped out to get a couple more.

She accepted the new beer when he returned, giving it another swig as he sank back down into the water and changed the topic. Veering violently left, he brought up the military once more with an interest in seeing if she had any wild tales about being on base that she’d been willing to share, knowing that “military brats” often got up to no good. Saffron practically cackled. “You have no idea. It’s honestly a wonder I had friends in the military at all. I was definitely the dumbass that kept getting the whole squad stuck with extra drill work.”

With a thoughtful hum, Saffron gave it some thought and started shuffling through her memories of her time on base to pick a suitable story for him. When one came to mind, a huge grin settled on her face and she snapped. “Alright, I got one for you. One of the first pranks I ever did, in fact. So, my squad had a bit of a ‘gang war’ going on for a while with another squad in our platoon. It was an exchange of pranks that had been going on long before I finished basic and was assigned to my station, so by the time I got there things were already getting a bit wild, bordering on abusive.”

“It was all fun and games to me until Squad E somehow managed to get into our barracks while the rest of us were out, and they filled each of our helmets with some kind of… canned cheese. They didn’t fill them like you would a bucket; it was more like they lined the inside with the stuff and let it dry out before putting the helmets back. Enough that we didn’t really notice until the next time we were doing drilled in full gear and our sweat started melting the stuff. We all had big yellow lines of cheese dripping down our faces and smelling the fuck out of our gear. At this point, the LTs were so frustrated with the ongoing war that they didn’t even stop to let us clean them out. Our punishment was going through the entire drill set dealing with the stench and grime.”

“And it got stuck everywhere in my hair. It took me weeks to get rid of the stench. So naturally, I was pretty pissed. For the most part I hadn’t gotten too involved in everything yet, but I was hell bent on getting back at them. My squad tried to talk up plans for a couple weeks about getting their revenge without settling on anything, so I decided to take the matter into my own hands without telling anyone.” Her grin continued to grow as she continued the tale, pausing to take another drink of her beer. “While E was out on a recon drill for a couple of days, I managed to get my hands on a couple cans of pepper spray. I got into the bathrooms of their barracks and sprayed down all the toilet seats and then left before anyone saw me. The first time someone from E used the toilet when they came back, his scream was so loud we could hear it from our bunker. The guy was out of commission for three days, laying in bed ass up and out with creams and everything to soothe the burn.”

Saffron was practically in giggle fits at this point, recalling everything. “They knew it was us, of course, but because no one else was involved my entire squad was able to genuinely claim ignorance about it, and I was still so new that none of the LTs suspected me. My buddy Roy was the only one who ever found out, eventually, but it still took him a couple months. The best part was, scrubbing the toilet seats down wasn’t enough to get rid of it entirely, so E had to start finding things to put down over the seats so they weren’t sitting directly on the toilets.”

Saffron regaled him with her earliest military prank, sending Scourge into such a fit that he nearly spewed his beer into the jacuzzi. The former Dread Master claimed that he would be proposing to her, were they not already married, bumping her rank up to a nine. She gave him the biggest of shit eating grins, taking a nice long sip from her drink. A chance glance with her peripheral vision illuminated her that the story might have had a certain effect on him, though it was hard to tell through the water.

He told her that he had never really gotten to have those kinds of experiences. Despite loving pranks, he was never able to land them with the results he wanted because the Dread Masters either worshiped or feared him and put him on the pedestal from which they refused to humanize him. Because of that, he’d had allies and coworkers, but no one he could really consider a friend despite his efforts.

Granted, the crowd he was working with wasn’t exactly prime target audience material. Cultists were a breed all their own, and his jokes had simply never gone over how he’d hoped. He described one time that he had saturated all of their clothes with a foul smelling body spray, washing their robes in the stuff and putting them back. Saffron was already chortling into her beer, doing her best not to choke on the liquid as he described how the cultists, despite being on the verge of hurling all over themselves, praised him for his genius of helping them address their bodily odors. “Oh my godssss, I would have paid good jewel to witness that. Holy fuck.”

She was wiping tears from her eyes as he carried on with a somewhat more sober countenance, admitting that it wasn’t until after he had left the Dread Masters that it dawned on him how little he had in the way of genuine companionship – of any type. He always had a lot of people in his life, but none of them treated him with any sense of humanity save for, ironically, Maker. Saffron shrugged at his remark on how dreadful that was. “I mean, it definitely sucks, but even the worst people in our lives can help us grow and learn something about ourselves. The important thing is, you got away from all that bullshit and now you have friends. And one smoking hot wife.”

The grin she shot at him was all too impish, and it was only a moment later that he gave her a smirk of his own, asking how she felt about drunken mistakes. Saffron regarded him with a pointed look, though there was a glimmer of mischief in her violet orbs. “No less prone than I am when I’m sober,” she retorted. Swirling the contents of her beer in the bottle, she eyed him. “Why? You hoping to talk me into giving you more pity cuddles?”

With an absolutely shit eating grin, she looked him directly in the eyes as she took a solid swig from her drink.

She teased him once more about cuddling, which honestly was something that he was just going to have to live with for the rest of his life. It earned her a snort and an eye roll, and Saffron was quite pleased with herself. Yet he pressed forward, suggesting outright that they could reward themselves from the long week with “working off some stress” together. Whether or not it was the wisest of ideas was yet to be seen, but it would be a great excuse for them to get a more direct inspection of one another’s physiques – for purely academic reasons, of course.

And as he stood, she couldn’t really stop herself from eyeing him as the water rushed down his chest. Scourge informed her that he planned on sleeping in the bed, whether she liked it or not, doubling back on his promise to dote on her. Saffron sat there for only a moment as she watched him go, debating to herself on if she wanted to accept the invitation or not. It had been a very long time since Saffron had been willing to share herself with someone like that, but… she did like Scourge, as much as she would never admit it outloud.

“Alright, fuck it.” Emerging from the tub, she followed him inside at a slightly unsteady pace while swallowing down the rest of her beer. “You’re on, hot shot. Let’s see if you play as good of a game as you talk.”