*here again with a new one :))
We're moving forward, tho Penacony will be hell to finish :))
I'll try my best. Peace out and Deus vult*
The group was gathered in the central area, near the street, waiting. Welt was briefing the others on the discussion shared, waiting for those who had taken part in it. Himeko's gaze lingered on Mark, a hidden hint of turmoil felt only by her smoldering inside. It grew even more as she noticed how Acheron held on to his hand, walking silently behind him. March scoffed a little, crossing her arms with a pout.
"I'm starting to doubt him more and more," she muttered, still upset about having been ditched as he danced to his heart content.
Himeko met his gaze, showing her frustration with his behavior. He showed nothing in return, trying to keep to himself as usual. He just gave Acheron's palm a soft squeeze, trying to anchor himself to the reality within the dream, not that within his mind. The shadows were gone, but the pain lingered, and the wedge that split his mind in half was there, growing more bit by bit, drop by drop of information.
"You must be Acheron," said Himeko, trying to sound friendly, but Stelle could notice the forced smile, just a subtle quiver in her lower lip that she saw thanks to being close. "Nice to meet you. I'm Himeko, the Astral Express' Navigator."
Acheron allowed her hand freedom, stepping to stand by Mark's side. March was still a bit reluctant, but she did speak in her friendly manner.
"I'm March 7th. Nice to meet you."
Acheron offered a tiny smile of her own, speaking softly.
"It's a pleasure to meet you. I see that no one is surprised by my arrival," she hummed, studying Himeko's glance with her own calculated eyes.
"Well, since Welt has decided to discuss openly with you, that means he trusts you, and we trust his judgement."
There was a hard accent on 'his', followed by a silent glare thrown at Mark, who simply pursed his lips, feeling as the barbed wire formed in his throat. He didn't falter, as much as his body was close to betraying him. Was a simple dance that much? Did she really think so lowly of him thanks to that? Surely there had to be more to it, something that threaded blissfully cloaked in secrecy.
Acheron chuckled softly, letting out a playful scoff. She wasn't at all offended, even if she could sense the tension.
"I envy your close friendships," she admitted, offering the same tiny smile that seemed to be as far as her lips could stretch. Mark put on one of his own, gently nudging her shoulder.
"Hey, why the long face? You're part of the group, I'd say. They're nice people. You've met Stelle, after all, and she's friendly... even if she sometimes wants to smack me with that bat of hers."
Stelle chuckled a bit, shrugging, feigning innocence.
"I've no clue what you're talking about."
Acheron met his gaze, softening for a moment. Himeko simply watched, understanding what was wrong within her but denying it with all her might. It was the rational part of her that fought back against the idiocy of emotions, their blindness leading to more harm than anything fruitful.
"Miss Acheron has proven that she's not a threat and quite the opposite, an ally. Aventurine's prior accusations were based on nothing more than his own subjectivity. Which is why, before we continue working together-"
"We won't work with him," said Mark, his tone firm. "Sorry to interrupt, Mister Welt, but I said it from the start—he's one dangerous man, aware of how far he can push it. He's the type to sweet talk his way out of the lion's den, only to come back and make sure the lion will never be a threat again. He's dangerous, and I'm fairly convinced his plans are something rather troublesome..."
Welt raised a brow, silently urging Mark to further develop his point, while Himeko wished to refute him, but she knew better than to try and speak against the one who seemed to know even what happens behind his back.
"Here's the deal. He knew beforehand about some things, that much is for sure. He's good at reading people, and he talked with Sunday before. I'm sure he was able to find out what he wanted with maybe not much ease, but still within a good timeframe to use the info. He quickly added up the other things found out during this trip, and here we are with a gambler ready to place it all in on the final chip."
Himeko raised a brow, crossing her arms. She had to test him to see if he actually thought things through before making such claims. Knowing information was one issue, but understanding it is a whole different matter.
"What is this 'final chip' that you speak of?"
He sighed, sensing the tinge of bitter animosity coming from her. Bracing himself, the words began flowing out instantly.
"The 'final chip' is a huge public commotion to make everything known about the issue of 'death'. What better way to claim Penacony than to bring it down by breaking the trust people have in it and trying to bargain that? It's just like causing disturbances in a city on purpose so the local property prices go down, time during which the big money guys come in, buy whatever, then make the rowdy crowds vanish, and the value of the buildings return to normal. Welcome to 'How to Scam People 101'."
He didn't even stop to take a breath, letting the gun blow and blow shot after shot until the barrel glowed a hot red. No one said a thing, yet March was struggling a little to understand. He smiled a little and recalled that she too wished to understand things, even if sometimes they were complicated—or just explained too quickly by him with no regard to those who might not catch on.
"It's like someone would make the world think Robin's songs suck just so they can buy the rights to use them for cheaper."
Her face lit up, only to turn into a frown.
"Then we have to stop that IPC gambler or whatever he is. If Penacony ends up in their hands, it would return to that gloomy place it used to be, right?"
Mark chuckled, shaking his head.
"No worries. That's not for us to worry about. After all, we're here for the Legacy, whatever it may be. As much as I hate the IPC, I gotta admit... some sketchy shit is going on behind the scenes."
Just as he spoke of that, a loud voice boomed through the city—and an oddly familiar one at that.
"Ladies and gentlemen! The most wondrous, most magnificent show in Penacony's history is about to begin! The IPC cordially invites everyone to Clock Studios Theme Park!"
Himeko sighed, crossing her arms. Partially, it felt like Mark managed to jinx it in one way or another.
"Should both the performers and spectators fail to arrive, won't all of Aventurine's plan be for nothing?"
Welt fixed his glasses, speaking calmly.
"Let's get going, everyone. The hour of trailblazing is upon us."
Mark braced himself, feeling a bit relaxed since Acheron was with them, packing a lot of firepower. Of course, he had his own ace hidden up his sleeve, a counter-gamble that can be used in some cases. Still, he lacked a sword, a medium for his Sword of Will, just in case it would be of aid. Forming it without a vessel was simply not within his abilities for some reason.
"Let's go," he said, determined to go ahead. Acheron followed, walking closer to him, standing by his side. Their tie was still there, morphing slowly from one of kinship in despair to resilience against it.
March stole a quick glance at them, her frown fading as she saw the genuine expression on Acheron's face. She seemed at ease, relaxed, as if being by Mark's side was enough to satiate the turbulent seas that clashed and roared inside her heart. Himeko noticed it too, but she stayed quiet, focusing on thoughts of her own.
Thus, the group made it all the way to the location Aventurine chose for his show.
"We're back here again. Aventurine actually chose a really conspicuous location," said March, a bit of her usual annoyance with things that are too over-the-top returning to the surface. "The guy's taking it to a whole new level. Does he really think he's a superstar or something?"
Welt nodded, keeping his arms crossed.
"Considering what Mark said about him, it's rather plausible that he wishes to have the incident be as much of a public thing as possible."
Himeko scanned the area, carefully analyzing every possible corner.
"Not a soul in sight? The Hounds drove out the visitors, and now their whereabouts are unknown too..."
Mark stepped forward, caring as little as one could in such a crisis. He did look around, prepared to make a piece of his mind known should anyone try him, but other than that, danger was out of his vocabulary.
In the background, Aventurine's voice boomed out with greetings, yet they faded into oblivion as they reached the first room, where the large displays showed nothing but a logo that was his personal signature.
"Astral Express, you're late, and this... 'unsought guest'"
Mark shouted, bringing his palms to his mouth in order to make himself heard even better.
"Show your punny gambler ass here, boy! I'm no loan shark, so don't worry, I'll only break stuff on accident."
A loud burst of laughter came through, desperate as it sounded.
"Ah, Mark, I should have expected you to be the one to speak ill of me. Well, that matters not. I have to introduce our guest of honor."
Silence for a moment before a booming "Everyone give it up for... Miss Stellaron!"
Stelle was confused, and Mark scoffed. He was glad that Aventurine didn't know about him yet, but the feeling that somehow some information on him lingered behind was palpable, clashing with him.
"Heh, sneaky bastard. Using our cute little Stelle as bait because she saw your two cases or whatever?"
Aventurine's scoff could be heard reverberating in the large room.
"Three cases, since the third one is about to happen right now, right here in Clock Studios Theme Park... a truly grand death!"
The voice kept ringing out on repeat, to the point that Mark was annoyed.
"You, you, you, you, and you... all of you are going to die! And it's all because of you, Miss Stellaron... You will become the personification of 'Death'."
Mark scoffed loudly, fighting back the urge to just spit on the ground in spite and mockery.
"You speak a lot of shit, Aventurine... quite too much, even. If it's just me, sure, make jokes about how you'll try to hang me upside down over the fire on low heat... but the second you get others involved... you fuck up big time."
He cracked his knuckles, preparing himself, stepping forward.
"Show yourself this very instant, Aventurine, else I'll come fetch you myself..."
The room went dark, and everyone prepared their weapons. The situation was dangerous enough that Stelle had to use the Lance of Preservation, and March simply prepared her bow, but instead of normal arrows, she could create thinner lances to use as projectiles. Mark just waited, fists clenched at his side. The screen before them lit up, the dim light swallowing the darkness as Aventurine's face appeared before them.
"The dice are cast –Ladies and gentlemen, ready to unveil your cards?"
He tilted his hat, the motion appearing on the large screen as everyone grew tense.
"The Architects' flawed stone," he laughed, "of no value at all..."
Three dice appeared out of nowhere, rolling on the ground.
"I'm putting down the bet. I'm taking the gamble."
All of them showed the spades, just like the symbol on playing cards.
"I'm claiming the win," he said in a colder voice. From above, a glowing figure descended, holding the precious Aventurine stone in hand, cracked as it was.
"I'll let fate spin the wheel—a daring gamble. Walking the brink of death... for rebirth."
Light began gathering in the stone as he clutched it, drawing out as much power as he could from it.
"All for the Amber Lord!"
With a thundering roar, a gust of wind blew their way. Mark took it as his sign to being.
"35% output..."
His body was light, despite the pain that threatened his head. That much was something he could handle after having it by his side for days on end. Words were meaningless, so punches would have to solve the issue.
"Come at me then!"
Mark blitzed ahead, covering his right arm in a thick layer of ice, striking with all his might at Aventurine. Dices began spinning all around in the air, racking up numbers that he couldn't understand. Aventurine's defense skyrocketed, leading to Mark's punch thundering against his in an explosion of ice shards, feeling as if he had struck a thick sheet of steel.
"This will be fun," he grinned, staring the gambler in the masked face.