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Living High

If luxury were arrogance, then the Glorium Maxa was the epitome of self-importance and indulgent design.

It hovered high above the city, an airship draped in both grandiose complexity and breathtaking engineering. Statues of alabaster crowned its front depicting glorious figures of Sol Solaria, while mesmerizing lights of gold and magenta shimmered from its arcana engines. It was a sizable thing, a true jewel to any air fleet, and given just how rare such a thing was, a vain achievement of the Empire. Those in the slums of Caulden could see it, just as the royals could. Weary travels from different arms of the northlands would also bare witness to its distinct silhouette – all before the Maxa traversed the airways on its third cruiser voyage.

It just so happened Pik, Edwin, and Aloise were aboard too.

“You'd think with one of these fuckin' things," griped Edwin, glaring through the window, “Ya' wouldn't need to send boots waist deep in poison shit-muck!"

“Eddy," cooed a velvet-soft voice.

He turned to face Aloise. The posh lapin was cushioned in a lavish chair of exotic imported oak, minding a table of exceptionally pricy wine and tiny towers of gold coins, Solars.

“What?" snapped Edwin, warm room light dancing over his pale, silver hair. “Never seen a damn waste! You tellin' me they had these things just sittin' around? And they waste on. . . whatever the fuck all this is?"

He gestured around him. Said surroundings were nothing short of lavish royalty, a large room beset with all the fineries the richest guests in the land could abide. So far as the money was concerned, Edwin, Aloise, and Pik were esteemed passengers (thanks to the money, of course).

The effete rabbit crossed his supple legs and tilted head. “Zhey have only a few. Zhe Maxa. . . she's like a fancy fat woman, not a warship."

Edwin scowled, frowning.

“I just. . . can't believe it," he grumbled. “Waste."

“Now, now!" challenged Aloise, white ears straightening. “Zhis is no time for pouts! Look!" Aloise pat the table, eyeing the coins.

“We did it! We're free as red sterlings! Our legs are light, our spirits unchained!"

Edwin crossed his arms.

“I mean, Eddy," continued Aloise. “We're fucking rich."

So they were. Having done a recent job for a very disgruntled sensory “musician" had left them with a sizeable payout. Golden Solars could keep a man fed for months on just one. They carried hundreds. No more buckwheat beer and strips of honey-salt rat for them.

“Yeah, bog-brain!" chirped a smaller, girlish voice. Pik, the Yoklin, reclined in the master bed, its giant scarlet sheets wrapped around her like a bun.

“Listen to Al!" she said, sporting a wide grin. “We could eat and fuck ourselves to death if we wanted! Or see the other side of the world, or, or, or, blow up the moon!"

Edwin looked to his smaller companion. _“_Blow up the moon?"

“Soon."

Edwin sighed. “I can't believe you two."

“Why?" said Aloise, resting cheek on graceful hand. “You're too used to suffering, Edwin. Is it so wrong to want zhis? To have hot water? To sleep in a bed zhat isn't infested with lice?"

Aloise gestured with one of his manicured fingers, shimmers of pink light drifting from black fingernail. A wine bottle floated to him, and he poured himself a thumb of the deep, scarlet liquid. “We can breathe."

He glanced to Pik then back to Edwin. “We are safe. And we are together. Is zhat not good?"

Pik's wide eyes boggled, staring at the rabbit. “Wuhuh. Hok! Are you being nice, bun boy?"

Aloise took a sip, blushed, and chuckled. “Maybe."

“I like this Al."

Edwin blinked, uncharacteristically surprised. To his right, the Yoklin girl. Pretty, impish, green skin, but a battery of trouble, not to mention incessantly impulsive and indulgent. That contrasted with Aloise's (mostly) cooler, tempered nature, meaning they argued a lot. But here they were, getting along. Not a single snark remark from the effeminate rabbit.

“Zhings are easier, Edwin, and zhere's nothing wrong with zhat."

Edwin absorbed the remark and mulled it over. He. . . was tired, admittedly. Very. Weeks on the road, months even, put even his stamina to test. Rock pillows and dirt beds coupled with foraging for food or shacking up in a muddy tavern wore even an ex-Marsh Guard down. It was a wonder Aloise – a creature of refinement – stayed as long as he did.

But Aloise never left. Neither did PIk. They were with him through the hardest, every footfall, every rainy night Aloise had to replace a stagecoach wheel, every morning Pik managed to whip up stuffed peppers and keep their stomachs from going hollow. To resist this, in a way, was selfish of him.

“Well. . ."

Aloise's glossy lips stretched with a smile. “See?"

Edwin granted a single, hard chuckle.

“Fwuh!" harped Pik. “Fukwa! Did you get him to laugh!?"

The Yoklin scrambled out of her covers (nake, of course), black-blue hair falling over her curvy frame. She stared at Aloise. “Okay, okay, time out. How long were you suckin' his dick!?"

Aloise's head wobbled with laughs. Ed tried to interject. “Hey, we didn't. . ."

“Not long enough," said Aloise in dark suggestion.

Pik snorted, chuckling, looking at Edwin with her own predatory grin. “Well damn, swamp-brain. If I knew you just needed that to crack a laugh. . ."

“You two knock it off!" said Edwin. “Don't be gettin' ideas."

“Ohoho, too late, sieur," challenged Aloise.

Edwin grunted, rolling his eyes. “Look, I'm gonna' get a feel for this wreck afore' you two turn into a pair of drunk harlots."

Pik and Aloise looked at the other, sneering. Edwin could sense it, and wasn't about to be jumped. Not right now, at least. Not until he understood this flying golden testicle in-and-out.

“What's the. . . voyage anyway?"

Aloise cleared his throat. “You mean, when will she depart? Zhe Maxa flies in the morning. We go to zhe capital Sola, and after she is scheduled to sail zhe coastal skies."

Again, Edwin blinked. “The capital?"

Aloise nodded.

“Huh."

Quietly, Edwin dawned an “appropriate" attire (Aloise insisted to waltz about in a Marsh Guard cloak was fiendishly idiotic) and exited the room. Not before the bun stopped him, though. Aloise stood, took Edwin's hand, then kissed him on the cheek.

“Try to relax."

Edwin conceded with a sigh. “No promises."

The ornate door shut behind him. Pik, still amazed, chuckled and hopped into the seat adjacent to Aloise, scanning over the money.

“I can't fukwing believe you garbled his cock on a job."

Aloise sipped his wine. “He was very stressed."

“He's always stressed!"

“Hee, true."

Aloise wiggled his finger and a glass floated towards him, offering it to Pik. She nodded furiously. “All the way! Whole thing! Full glass!"

“If I do," said Aloise, starting to pour, “Will you put on some clothes?"

“Buh?"

Pik glanced down, realizing her green, freckled skin was exposed. “Oh. Oops."

When the wine practically spilled from the glass rim, she snared it and slugged it down in messy fashion, dribbles of deep red slipping from the sides of her mouth.

“Pik! Slow! Zhat's a Sova Red!"

Pik smacked her lips and stared at the effete bun.

“It's expensive."

Pik proceeded to gulp down the rest, leaving Aloise to sigh and shake his head. “You're still unclothed."

“Bogfoot wasn't complainin'."

“But I am."

“When are you never!?"

Sensing no concession, Aloise poured the Yoklin another draft. “But seriously," Pik continued, watching the rich liquid fill the glass, “How?"

“Mm?"

She gestured at the door. “Ya' got his pants off when he was gonna' shoot something. It takes three beers before I can even get his belt off, much less gargle his mushroom."

Aloise made a face that married confusion and disgust. “Perhaps. . . zhat's because you are trying to. . . what did you say? Gargle?"

“Gargle."

Aloise clicked his tongue. “Well, isn't it obvious?"

He gestured to his frame, a supple, lithe body of effete characteristics. Though he were male, his physical demeanor hid the fact very well. From his fairly generous backside to regal demeanor, combined with fanciful makeup and perfumed scent, Aloise invited a good long stare. The traits of an Incubi helped too.

“C'mon. Seriously."

Chuckling, Aloise fished in his vest pocket and pulled out a small golden disc. Upon it were words scripted in High Sola, of which made out the phrase “Lust."

“Zhe composer used a. . . sensory magic in his music. Zhis disc created feelings of lust, want, and need."

Pik squinted, leaning on the table, her perky bosom wobbling. “Huh?"

“I mean the sound makes one hungry. Understand?"

“ . .oh. OH. Wuhaha, so, ya' mean you hear that and you get fuckin' randy?"

Aloise tucked the disc away. “Zhat is one way to put it."

“Bahah! So, bogfoot heard that and had his dick out!?"

“. . .yes."

“AHAH! Zok! That's great!"

Aloise blushed. “It was. He's quite. . . fun when he goes after it."

Pik was utterly tickled, falling in her chair, holding her belly in laughter. “You're gonna use that again, right?"

A sigh. “Mm, I will. . . if he asks, zhat is. Zhe music is very commanding, takes hold, but. I want him to want it."

Pik took a swig of her freshly poured drink, albeit slower this time, much to Aloise's approval. “S'pretty benign of you, ya' know, for a demon."

Aloise uncrossed his legs. “Edwin is our friend."

Pik didn't challenge, only drank more.

“What about me?" she said after a moment.

Aloise smiled and rolled his eyes. “We're improving, let's put it zhat way."

-*-

A flying royal estate was the best way Edwin could describe his surroundings. It had all the pomp and show of the wealthy elite and military class, the kind often unseen by common eyes. He was only familiar because of his brief time with Solarian Knights, recognizing the various Pillar Sigils emblazoned on walls and the many iconography associated with high Solarian courts.

He was in awe, but he was also sickened. A lot of money for this, plenty of resources. Resources better spent on helping the common class. Or anything, really. But a bloated flying machine? Why?

At least the company wasn't the worst. Those also in attendance of the vehicle were surprisingly diverse. He, for instance, spied and Ussadi man speaking with a fellow from the Ath-Jura. Both were certainly distinct in attire – high class diplomats, perhaps? The Ussadi wore a magnificent navy cloak coupled with a silk-woven white turban, his colored blue beard fashioned skillfully, an ivory handled blade at his side. The dark-skinned man from Ath-Jura was also a sight, a bejeweled headdress of banded gold shapes crowning his perfectly shaven head, along with four colorful robes hiding his otherwise large frame.

In typical Solarian court, especially on this side of the world, you didn't encounter much like that. It was an easy split: wealthy and poor, the served and the serving.

But on the Maxa? Strange. One of the massive foyers Edwin entered shared all sorts of chattering folk. Folk that – on a usual basis – might be tossed or prevented entry into the further reaches of the capital lands.

As he entered, his pale moon-cursed eyes scanning about, indeed, an assorted gathering. A short Dwarlian man chattered with a white sea-rat. A wild bearded man grumbled in his rough Kherzobyl words, trying to woo a taller, disinterested southlander woman. By the fucking moon, he even spied a tiny collective of Yoklin hacking with laughs and drinking some hideous fungal brew.

Was he high? Did he accidentally smoke one of Pik's copi mushrooms? Affluent and meager, in the same proximity?

Well, maybe they weren't low-class. Certainly each guest, odd as they were, weren't in rags.

Whatever. He took some time to understand his surroundings, people aside, taking mental snapshots of doors, windows, space between objects, and other pieces of information potentially useful for later. Like good cover spots, for instance.

A little paranoid, no? He could practically hear Aloise chiding him. But it was always important to stay prepared! Money or not, they were always looking over their collective shoulders, why should that change now?

At least the wide room had the sense for a built-in bar. Indeed, dangling lights held together by simple arcana showered the room with a wash of colors while the stench of pipe smoke fought against odor of aromatic drink. And no guards. Edwin found that alarming, resolving to keep his guard up.

Ah, alcohol, that's what he was missing.

He wandered over to said bar, doing his best to appear inconspicuous. Begrudgingly, he had to admit Aloise was right. Were he in the ghoulish attire of a Marsh Guard he'd have stuck out, even amongst this colorful crowd. It was strange though to not be weighted by hard, boiled leathers and his typical scarf and hat. Seeing as how the light hear didn't hurt his moon cursed skin, there was no need. He felt naked, and not in the good way.

Thank Sol, the bar was fit like an armory, a much-needed familiarity. The barkeep regarding him with cool attentiveness as she did with everyone, lights playing off her darker skin and short cut hair.

“A drink for the gentleman?" she said with a cool, polite voice. Edwin gave her a distracted nod.

“Drowner," he said, stiff. He shuffled in his pocket to pay, but she raised a hand.

“No need, sieur," said the keep. “Patrons drink at the expense of Her Empress."

“Really?" said Edwin with a smirk. “Karletta alright with me swiggin' soldier's brew on her dime?"

The keep gave a soft blink, one that betrayed agitation. Taking Her Empress Eternal's Grand Karletta Frampt title in such a frank manner was bad sport.

“Of course," said the attendant. “Her generosity is boundless."

Edwin said no more as said drink was poured. Nothing complex, it was but a simple, black liquid, dark as the swampy night. Hard, but it didn't burn, oddly. Though, it had a surreal salty aftertaste, like sea water. Perfect palette cleanser for roasted vermin, among things.

The stiff liquid put him at ease once he knocked back a few swigs. Like the swamps, he found himself in unfamiliar territory surrounded by unknowns. Easy to get lost and drown in all the sensations, especially fresh off the assassination job. But a briney brew like this? Helped him find his boots again.

Must've been more glasses in it, because Edwin didn't even hear the shape sliding up next to him. “Man's got great taste. Order my new friend another round, on me!"

Instinctively, Edwin's free hand went to his side, in a manner prepared to grab a weapon if he needed it. He glanced to his left and the frame of a man coalesced into view. “A joke, a joke, of course."

The swamper gazed at the newcomer, who carried a youthful but travelled demeanor. Black stubble, cut face, with long black hair bound and knotted into a ponytail, though not in the style of Solarian men or women. No, in fact, this one was certainly a foreign sort. He wore a long sleeveless coat open down the middle, his attire quite distinct, one wrist wreathed with small turquoise beads and the other marked with tattoos of his homeland, accompanied by a layered armor of lightweight distinction.

Several straps of leather held a nuance of weapons, a blade at his side (one Edwin wasn't familiar with in the slightest), pistols on the other. He was fair skinned, but not like Edwin.

“She did say bounty was endless, eh?"

Edwin blinked, but went along. “Humor on Her Eternal's watch? You're a bold one."

The attendant said nothing but poured a glass. Edwin regarded it with careful eyes.

“She might appreciate it. Then again, she'd appreciate me in all sorts of ways, aha!"

“Man gets me a drink and tells bad jokes," tossed Edwin. “What do I owe the pleasure o'this company?"

“Well," started the fellow, pushing his back into the bar and crossing arms, “You gotta' know good company. Who gets a Drowner in a fancy dig like this? You, that's who."

“You've got another recommendation, fella?"

A hand wave. “Hah! Not for these rows, not me. Too strange on the tongue. Fruit and wheat and honey. Doesn't sit well. Save for a Drowner, ah, now that's a worldly man's brew. Made from the milk of mother water."

Edwin knocked back his drink. “Sound like you've been tryin' to fuck the ocean, friend."

'Friend' he said in such a way that was filled with, well, salt. He didn't know this gent, didn't know if he wanted to.

Another laugh. “Maybe not the ocean, but on it? Ah, you know."

“I don't."

The newcomer looked to Edwin. “That why you're sailin' the skies? No sea legs? Hey, no shame in that. First time I trekked salty licks I heaved out both ways, ahah!"

“I've got my reasons."

The stranger smirked. “Mysterious man? I like it. Offputting. Hides your gun well, too."

Edwin stiffened, his face hardening. The stranger raised his hands. “Hey now, friend! No need for the sourpuss routine! No trouble here! I just recognize good form when I see it."

He tossed a thumb towards the crowd. “These softies? No, you stick out, you do. You've got that energy. You're a fighter. And I'm in good company with a fighter."

Edwin stared him down. “Uh huh. And what do we call you, fighter?"

The newcomer rubbed his chin, closing eyes, giving a single laugh. “Ah, they've got many names for me back home. But for you? Zetsu."

Zetsu? Oh he was foreign to Solarian lands for sure. A stranger, quite distant. So much that, at least for now, Edwin was more at ease. This “Zetsu" was like him, perhaps? A stranger in a strange land?

“I'll wager you're not from these parts."

More chuckles from Zetsu. “I am a lady killer, not many of those around here."

At this point, Edwin could make a few observations. Humor was the veil, the way he weakened those around him without lifting a finger. The question was, why? Was he trouble? Well, yes, all things considered, a man didn't waltz around so armed without aiming for a fight. The important question was, was Zetsu trouble for him and his friends?

“But you are a killer," stated Edwin, pulling away the veil. Zetsu didn't flinch.

“That too."

“You didn't buy me a brew just to have us play cat and mouse, didja'?" said Edwin, leaning on the counter.

“Neither of us is a cat or a mouse, friend."

“You sure I'm a friend?"

“Friends have names, so. . . I'm Zetsu, stranger. You go by stranger?"

Hmm. Edwin was a little drunk and a little intrigued, so he took a gamble. “Edwin."

“And now we're friends."

Edwin didn't know what to think of that.

“I'm short on those, and I figure, eh, might need one soon."

Ah, but Edwin did know what to think of that. Zetsu was trouble. But for who?

“I'm not here to get on anyone's bad side. Especially not for free."

Zetsu nodded and turned to the attendant, calling for his own drink. “Smart man, experienced man. That's how I knew this conversation was worth the time."

Edwin grumbled. “Not mine."

Zetsu raised a hand. “Look, Edwin was it? I'm not asking for anything. Don't you worry. Just makin' like a leaf in the wind, you know?

“What are you hunting?" Edwin asked, blunt. Zetsu liked his dance, but given Ed's surroundings, he wanted him to get to the point.

“Don't take it personal," Zetsu said, tone shifting. “I don't know who can be trusted."

For a moment, his façade vaporized. His smile melted, his face set, his eyes distant. He clenched the glass in hand and Edwin watched him tense.

“Demons."

Edwin did his best not to betray a reaction, beyond a disinterested 'hm.' “Hard prey to catch," he commented. “Might be you're in the wrong place."

Shit and fuck. Edwin's mind went straight to Aloise.

“Oh no," continued Zetsu, “I"ve never been more right in my life. This fancy thing we're in?"

Zetsu leaned away from the barkeep who busied herself with someone else. “It doesn't just host fancy folk from parts of the world."

Wait, what? Edwin didn't understand, though it didn't sound like Aloise.

“You'll think me crazy, Edwin, but from one fighter to another, I'm sure as the sword I carry."

Edwin took a drink, listening. A pang of fear took him, but this sounded. . . different.

“There's a dinner party they throw here, a fancy gala. In the evenings, like they do every time this brig flies. The party will have visitors. Demon visitors. Visitors from a place I. . . I can't even get my head around."

Edwin shook his head. “Zetsu, you're not doing a great job about the crazy part."

Zetsu forced a smile. “I know."

He sighed, continuing. “Just imagine a door, alright? And through it these things come on through and chew their teeth, like they're one of us. I've seen them before, even where they came from and I. . . I don't know. It was a city of black towers covered in strange, magic fire."

Edwin wanted to write this man off as a loon, but considering Aloise. . .

“And. . . what?"

“Simple," said Zetsu. “They have something I want back. I'm gonna' kill em. Or, follow them right back through that door til' I do."

“That's a mighty thing to tell someone you just met."

“We already know each other," challenged Zetsu. “Warriors all speak the same language."

Edwin finished the rest of his Drowner and sighed. “You oughta' know how all this sounds."

“I'm comfortable being a loonie to folks. Makes good cover. But Edwin, sure as I'd die for my clan and my honor, what I say is as true as steel. They'll be here tomorrow. I'm telling you because, ah, fuck, who else would I to? The drunkard trying to grab tits?"

Huh. So, he wasn't prowling for Aloise or even Pik? Edwin had to be sure, whether the man was insane or no.

“Maybe. What makes you think they aren't already here? Daemons like to hide."

Zetsu shook his head. “I'd have known."

Edwin studied the response. Was he lying, or so full of his own conviction he wouldn't believe otherwise?

. . .the terrible thing, though, Edwin did believe him. That hard, determined face and those set eyes, he knew the look. One of determination. One that had seen dreadful things defying imagination. Edwin was exposed to monstrosities in the Dagados swamps, from bloated leeches to mad-fungal Slakken. He'd seen magic that could rearrange the mind and, for fuck's sake, had an Incubi for a friend. It wasn't so hard to imagine beings from the “other side" cavorting around with mortals on a fancy airship, now was it?

Still, it all felt like Zetsu was looking for something.

“Don't think I can help you with this one, Zetsu."

“No need," said the stranger, relaxing again and smiling. “It was just nice to talk with another soldier for a while. Consider it. . . a freebie. If things go bad, well, you got a head's up, didn't you?"

What an odd conversation, Edwin reflected. But, it had managed to pull him away from his environment and, at the least, make him feel more comfortable. Indeed, he'd rather chat with a madman and his quest for hopping through magic doors to kill demons than say, parlay with a stuffy noble and their qualms with imported tea.

Edwin decided he liked Zetsu. He also thought about the safety of Aloise and Pik.

“You aren't gonna' blow something up, are you?"

“Ahaha, look, either they'll be dead, or I will. Nothing to worry about."

Edwin looked at his empty glass. “You could just not, and live."

“To not act is to die, to die is to act. I'm dead either way."

What an odd man.

“The hell are you trying to go after, anyway?"

Zetsu grinned. “You can meet her when I'm back."

Oh. Love then. Truly, Zetsu was indeed mad. What things a heart would do in the name of love. What madness and company, what strange affairs, like. . . sailing the skies in a foppy airship and. . . hanging around with a Yoklin and. . . staying with. . .

“Eddy!"

Aloise.

Both turned to attention as the graceful silhouette of one Aloise emerged from the crowd, his sauntering steps catching a few eyes as he meandered towards the pair. Zetsu spied the bun, boggled, then pushed his hands together in prayer.

“GREAT AKUMO, BE PRAISED."

Edwin felt a shrill cold panic take his chest. No! Aloise couldn't be here! He'd tip off this nutjob and their cover'd be blown and then it'd been more incessant running! At once, Edwin raised a hand as if to stop the effete rabbit, but it was too late. Even in the dancing lights Edwin could see the rabbit's cheeks were a might flushed, at least a wine glass (or two in), and he carried a suggestive smile.

He approached, pushing into Edwin, looping an arm around his own. “Zhere you are!"

Zetsu looked between them, gobsmacked. “Oho! Edwin, my friend! You know this beauty? You were holding out on me, you dog!"

Edwin clenched his teeth. “Aloise, not here."

“Ma'am," continued Zetsu, making his presence quite known. “You'll forgive these tired, tired eyes if they stare? Egads, a flower like you in all this?"

The bun's ears wiggled and he swung his attention to the stranger, head tilted. “I see you've been making friends, Eddy."

“Why yes," said Zetsu. “I'm a friend. A damn good friend. Right, Edwin?"

Edwin paused. Did. . . did Zetsu not see it? See what was, essentially, an Incubi, right in front of him? He knew Aloise was good at hiding in plain sight against the untrained mind, but this fellow claimed to be much more. Either he was playing the fool, or he was a fool.

“Something like that," said Edwin stiff.

“How?" added Zetsu. “You damn, lucky bastard! How do you have this dandy peach on your arm? Ma'am, please, this rooster won't strut about another cock's henhouse, but. . . at least give me a name, so that I might hold it for later?"

Aloise stared at him, pink eyes flashing with intrigued. “Lass? Heehee."

It took a few moments for Zetsu to process the implication. His smile faded. He looked the effeminate bun up and down, as realization hit him. He took a step back, bewildered.

“Oh. Oh my."

Aloise gave him a little finger wiggle. “Oh, love, it happens all zhe time. Don't look so sad."

Zetsu appeared lost in thought.

“. . .I. . . may have discovered something. . . erm. . ."

His cheeks flushed. “I need to think. Ahm, well, Edwin, pleasure flappin' gums. You'll remember what I said?"

“Leaving already, new friend?" chided Aloise.

Zetsu cleared his throat. “Between us three I need to go take care of something. I'm off, ahah!"

With a practiced swagger he spun, raised a hand to wave, and sauntered off. As he did, Edwin heaved a sigh of relief, looking at Aloise.

“Thank you."

Aloise watched the stranger go before placing a hand on generous hip. “Who was zhat?"

“A man with a gun and a sword."

The rabbit smirked, pink-strawberry hair coiffed in pristine manner. “Very funny."

“Sometimes."

Aloise took Edwin's hand, curling a finger around his own, tugging at him. “Come back to zhe room," he said in dark suggestion. Quite abruptly, in fact.

What was that look? “You're not here for cheap drinks and bad company?"

“Are you?"

Well, Edwin at first was around for looks, but all he could make was the place was as stuffy and obnoxious as any lord's estate. Seen them once, seen em' all. He thought, then, to question why. Why come back to the room, but. . . he knew. He knew those eyes, that look, the way Aloise added just an extra toss to his hips and stride, how his ears perked, how his eyelids fluttered.

He saw them running the assassination job in that flurry of utter lust.

First came the usual resistance, always on guard. He didn't know much else, trained to be that way in the Marsh Guard. It was tiring, and he was tired of feeling, well, tired. But it was so hard to let go and forget and feel.

“Aloise," he said after a moment, clearing his throat and running a hand through his silver hair. Aloise got a little closer. The proximity of his warmth was terribly inviting, along with the gentle hint of a rosy perfume.

“You. . . still have the disc?"

Aloise's features shifted from subtle to devilish excitement, a dark, grinning hunger playing on his features. “Mmm? Oh, yes Edwin, I do."

Yes, Edwin. He let the word repeat in his head. The cold, dark, horrifying marsh holding his soul hostage shuddered, and for the first time in so long, he felt. . . warmth.

They didn't need words here. The two left, Aloise holding Edwin's hand, leading him back through the airship's halls to their rooms. Aloise was keen to swing and toss his buxom backside as they did, making it very clear how generous he was, despite his lithe frame. His teardrop tail wiggled in excitement and they were once again in their ritzy quarters, the light dimmed.

Minus one Yoklin. “Where's Pik?"

“Up to mischief," said Aloise, sliding towards an apparatus in the room corner. He glanced to Edwin and winked. “Oh, she'll be back. But for now. . . it's you and me."

Aloise fished out the mentioned disc from his form-fitting suit vest. The gold, one-of-kind piece was, perhaps, their greatest steal from the assassination job. If Edwin remembered correctly, once played, magically enhanced notes of harmony not only delighted the user's ears, but their senses. For this disc, it stirred feelings, wants, and emotions. Lust. Infatuation. It consumed Edwin, and though it was surreal, in those brief minutes with Aloise, he felt like he escaped the marsh of himself.

. . .he wanted that again.

“Shall I play it again?" said Aloise, grinning, revealing those sharp, pointy teeth, the Incubi blending with his rabbit frame.

He hesitated. But, he reflected on Aloise's words from before. Why was it wrong to want happiness?

Just give in. Just concede, he told himself.

He nodded. “Please do."

Aloise blushed again, but not from the wine. As his delicate, manicured fingers took the disc and inserted into the apparatus – an Arcanagram – Edwin spoke again, admittedly nervous.

“And, Aloise. . ."

“Nmm?"

“. . .take your time with me."

The rabbit blinked, brushing a lock of pink hair, smirking. “Oh, Edwin. My Edwin. Zhe zhings I will do for you."

Aloise inserted the disc and allowed the machine to work. The melodic sounds of its subtle, beautiful symphony filled the room, a gentle background, an indulgent ambiance. At once, they drove into Edwin and consumed with the same needs and wants like previous. Like a rushing wave, it fell over him. His mind shifted, his blood went hot as pitch, and he looked at Aloise in a whole new way.

The cold, dark swamp of Dagados held his soul with its thick, brackish tendrils, keeping him the cold, dreary dark. He was always there, even when he wasn't. Always haunting him, following him. But as the music played and Aloise sauntered towards him, unfastening the polished buttons of his tight suit-vest, hips wiggling in playful demeanor – the swamps faded. There, in the bleak pocket of Edwin's soul, a little knoll formed in all that bogwater memory, and from it a single, pink flower blossomed.

Uh. That was new.

Probably just the music, which, mm, was affecting him quite thoroughly. Aloise pulled off his tight-fitting attire, revealing his elegant torso, white fur playing against room light. He came to Edwin and let skilled digits unfasten his clothes with dutiful attention, licking glossy lips.

“Mm, my handsome, brave soldier. . ."

A spike of heat drove through Edwin. Handsome? Brave? He wasn't brave. Was he? Aloise was just playing along, lying, telling him what he wanted to hear. But by Sol's knickers, he wanted to hear it.

He watched Aloise's dainty fingers pull him free of his own vest, then, observed the supple rabbit slip to his knees in practiced, submissive fashion. Certainly, a sight many eyes begged for. “I have somezhing special for you, Eddy."

Aloise's accented voice purred with the music, adding to his allure. Edwin's drowning lusty brain was intrigued, content to let the effete bun do his work. He had some measure of control still, enough he could stand, though no doubt once Aloise got going even Edwin couldn't hold himself back.

Aloise unbuttoned and relinquished Edwin of his attire while the ex-Marsh Guard helped. Aloise did the same, exposing himself to the warm room air, his nake, generous body in full, wonderful view. Given that he was rabbit, his upper thighs and thick haunches were plump for a lad, though no doubt his Incubi physique added to it as well.

At any rate, Aloise gripped that familiar erection in his hands, gracefully gliding palm against it, incurring an approving groan from Edwin. “Mmmnf," cooed Aloise, cheeks flushing, adding to his pink freckles, “let me zhank my brave soldier for protecting me."

Ah, now Aloise was certainly feeding into Ed's growing ego. Dripping it on thick, making him feel like something, rather than a man who fled the swamps.

Aloise pressed his warm, soft lips against Edwin's tip, kissing it. Then again, in slow, servile fashion. “Mmm."

Edwin watched with fascination, the arcane-born lust making him want more. To see his crown suckled and doted on with Aloise's suckling kisses, could drive a man to do mad, crazy things. “Zhat's just for you, my handsome Edwin," chittered Aloise.

He chuckled, mouthing and kissing the bellend again, slow and tedious in an almost tormenting fashion. His violent pink eyes swung up and gazed at Edwin in supplication, propping his hands on his knees as he mouthed against the shaft with ginger strokes. He squat so that his shapely, freckled rump pushed out, granting an exotic image of effete male bun outright worshiping Edwin's erection.

Aloise simpered and chuckled, allowing another inch to press into his soft, hot chamber. “Mmmlk."

He releasd Edwin, taking the inches and gently rapping them against his cheek, running the wet tip into his visage. “Do you like it when I do zhis, Eddy? It's only for you. All for my silver-haired sweetheart."

Each word added another drunken layer of lustful energy to Edwin. Why. . . why was the rabbit saying this? Just to goad him on? Sol, it was working so well. He hadn't felt this way in eons, like someone jammed hot, electric blood back into his veins. But was Aloise lying? He was an Incubi. Wasn't he supposed to do all this?

Edwin had to know, even know. He smirked, a single hard laugh leaving him. “I'm not that special."

Aloise tilted his head and kissed Edwin's abdomen. “Let me show you ozherwise."

With surprising strength and grace, Aloise shifted, standing, then pushed Edwin into the master bed. The bogboot fell with a thump and watched as the grinning bun approached, his body sparkling with wreathes of hot, pink energy.

Edwin watched, and his mind fought a bit but. . . watching that curvy, fanged rabbit step close and do whatever the hell he was about to do. . . ah, fuck it. He believed Aloise. If it was a lie, well, suppose he'd just pretend. He was already living one now.

As for Aloise, he extended his hand as though holding someone else's own. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, as if tandem with the arcanagram, a form coalesced next to Aloise. In a bright flash of brilliant fuchsia, a silhouette of hot pink energy appeared, a mirror image of Aloise. Or rather, a vision of Aloise. Like him, the figure was shaped with the same effete definitions, but entirely made of pink energy, glistening, multicolored sparkles drifting from its mesmerizing shape. A fancy clone of a fancier bun.

“Never seen you do that before. . ." watched Edwin, mesmerized.

Aloise chuckled. “It's for very special occasions."

Edwin dared not ask anymore, he was quite content to let the bun show him what trickery he had in store. He didn't wait long though, as the nake twins hopped into bed, crawling towards him. Their rumps danced together, hips gently colliding, and though the doppleganger was made of energy, it seemed to wobble just as soft flesh would.

“Besides, did you forget?" added Aloise, his mouth once again near Edwin's cock. “I was an entertainer."

Edwin, still somehow coherent, chuckled. “Easy to forget with the. . . knives and what have you. . ."

The coherency didn't last. At once, the pair assaulted Edwin's inches with licks and kisses. Where Aloise smothered his glistening lips against one side of Edwin's erection, so did the clone, mimicking the feel perfectly. The ex-Marsh Guard had his pike massaged and worshiped by two mouths running their tongues in unison against the tip before stroking against the sides, diving and rising in mirrored fashion.

Well, goodbye coherency. Edwin observed them stroke against it, lips suckling and shaping around the inches, Aloise purring with his motions. The soft, boyish moans accompanied the sway of his backside, the clone doing the same, rumps wiggling in metronome sway. As Aloise worked his plush, glazed lips left trails of sparkly residue, making it clear he marked his man, panting hot breaths against the root.

“Gggn. . ." Edwin groaned, fascinated, gripping the pair. His hands clenched the hair, or at least, Aloise's pink locks. The apparition had it too, though it didn't feel the same, more like a solid matter. Warm and tingly to the touch.

“Mm?" Aloise peaked, glancing at Edwin. “Like it?"

He didn't give Edwin a chance to respond, sinking to the male's testes to slurp and lick against them, slowly running his hot went tongue against the spheres in submissive fashion. As he did, the clone went to Edwin's tip before engulfing the cock into its warm throat. Despite this, it still mimicked the sensations of a tight, wet throat. Were Edwin to close his eyes, he'd never know who was what. Fortunately, he liked watching. His lust addled mine was quite eager to see the buns work.

Aloise worshiped the stones, smacking and engulfing them in his maw, careful with sharp rows of edged teeth. His duplicate throated the cock in the meantime, sinking in dutiful sways, driving til nose hit threshold. Hard for the pretty bun to not get all bothered, his own cock springing to life. The idea of submitting to Edwin was arousing on its own, but it wasn't only that.

A fullness, a sense of completion overtook Aloise when he suckled and caressed Edwin's shaft, among things. But Edwin. . . was his friend, a friend often distraught and distracted. A man with a stare that drifted off, haunted by his past. Always so unhappy. He didn't like Edwin unhappy.

He wanted Edwin to feel good, to feel happy, to feel wanted, lusted for, needed. Because, even if the bogfoot didn't realize. . . it's how he made Aloise feel.

“Mmm, greedy," commented Aloise, popping the jewels free as his clone released the cock from its throat.

Edwin was hoarse. “Urngh, don't stop. . ."

“Aww, but my Edwin," chimed Aloise, opening his mouth and tapping the tip against tongue. “Do you want it all over me or in me?"

Edwin blinked, his features strained and run over with lust. Aww, the poor thing. Aloise knew, he wasn't that type, wasn't the type to bark orders and demand. It made him cuter.

“Ah well, I'm a little greedy."

Aloise dove onto the cock and bobbed his neck, slurping, tongue drifting as a sloppy orchestra of noises escaped his maw. The clone was eager to please too, mimicking Aloise's previous actions, caressing testes with tongue. As they did, Aloise locked eyes onto the ex-Marsh Guard, giving him a hungry, lustful stare. Edwin shuddered. He could get lost in them, the way they promised everything, quietly told him that as long as Aloise was there, he could forget it all.

Didn't matter they were floating above Caulden in an airship or the loonie Zetsu was up to something. The bun made it all better.

The surge happened quickly after, Edwin's cock twitching and throbbing. He felt the hard, striking rise of orgasm overwhelm his loins, ropes of hot white seed bursting from tip like a Solarian Longshot. Aloise gave a muffled but gleeful moan, throttling the cock and slamming his head onto the root, shoving it into throat as he engulfed and swallowed.

Edwin, consumed by hungry, animalistic lust, shoved the bun on his flank, bucking up as he shot every dribble of issue into his companion's awaiting maw. The copy dutifully slurped and lapped at his stones, encouraging them to produce more as the marshlander gave himself to Aloise, who simple squealed and gulped the essence down with enthuse.

“Fuck!" gasped Edwin, a warm, blissful afterglow taking him as he peaked into the bun, before Aloise slipped off with an audible, sloppy pop.

He peeled off, licking lips, a bridge of saliva and sex between tip and mouth. “Ohhmf, Edwin."

Edwin heaved, looking at the pretty, effete Incubi. “Goddamn you beautiful bitch," he rasped, noting his erection was still, well, there.

“What a romantic zhing to say," giggled Aloise, panting too, eyeing the inches. “Aww, but my brave, handsome soldier still has a full load, mm?"

Did he? Fuck, he did. The arcanagram and the lustful tunes persistd, adding to Edwin's fevor. Aloise, sensing need, shifted positions. This time, he swept to all fours, pushing his supple, plump rump into view, as did his clone. The two buns wiggled their haunches, asses deftly clapping together, sacs and cocks wiggling in teasing display.

“Come on, Eddy, fuck until you're dry. . ." cooed Aloise. “Use me. Just pick a hole!"

Ugh, fuck. Usually those words would have no effect and sound utterly ridiculous to Edwin on a normal day. But everything – from the drink to the music to the bun – put Edwin out of it. So, whatever, he'd embrace this.

Edwin shifted too, going to knees, roughly grabbing Aloise's ass and squeezing, harshly spreading his cheeks.

“N-nhm! As many times as you want!" squeaked Aloise, glancing back.

Edwin grunted. “Mmf."

So, he did. His sloppy root pressed into Aloise's winking hole and he shoved every inch into the tunnel. A smooth, simple motion as the tight but soft entrance wrapped about his cock nicely. Aloise bucked, yelped, and shivered. He didn't have to wait long, though, Edwin was out of sorts. His taste for subtlety was nonexistent.

Edwin gripped those cheeks and spread the soft backside until hammering into the effete, girlish rabbit. Hard and harsh and beastlike. He wasn't thinking much, only feeling. Feeling a way he hadn't since. . . god, when? When he was drunk and got a little flirty with a gal back in Brost, as a budding teen?

Sol, what was Aloise doing to him?

Hah. Everything.

“Onf! E-Eddy!" mewled Aloise, lithe chest pressed into the sheets as the marshlander slammed hips into the reciprocating haunches. Every strike created an applause of flesh colliding with flesh, muffled only by the music.

“Zhat'sitbabythat'sit!" panted the bun, eyes rolling up as he was, for lack of better phrase, fucked silly. But he wanted that. He wanted Edwin to forget and use him and need him. To let go. He never did. Helped that he fucked like a stallion, too.

With such strokes and hedonistic slams, Edwin burst to a second orgasm without much trouble. He tensed, shuddered, and released, draining into the effete bun, whereas Aloise tossed his fat rump against it, milking the root for all it had.

. . .and he wasn't done. Edwin, hungry as a fucking beast, pulled out of Aloise's sloppy pucker, turning attention to the duplicate. Granted it was a little strange, seeing as how the clone was a silhouette of fuchsia. But the moment his cock sank into the mimic's hole, well, felt like heaven. The magic frame created a massing, tingling sensation around Edwin's root, hot and electric, and like before, Edwin slammed himself into the pink bun (the other one).

It went on that way for a long, long time. Aloise rode his soldier, kissed him, embraced him, did everything. took him away from the world, at least for a while, until there was nothing left. Until Edwin was completely and absolutely spent, an exhausted pile of himself, drained. He fizzled into a steamy delirium, allowing the bun to turn off the arcanagram.

It was a struggle, the bun wobbling and nearly falling over as he switched the magical disc out, but soon there was silence, save for the dull ambiance of the Glorium Maxa's engine hum.

-*-

Sleeping. He was actually sleeping.

Aloise ran a hand over Edwin's cheek, smiling, before kissing the resting man and swinging a (clean) blanket over him. For once in. . . well, frankly, the first time since Aloise knew him, the marshlander was legitimately at rest.

Now, the bun tried to hide his pride, but didn't work. The poor man just needed a damn good fuck, among things. Still, to see his friend at ease, for once, was nice.

He brushed his knife-like teeth, cleaned up, then dawned a casual robe for the evening. The window gave way to a rather gorgeous sight: evening sky speckled with the city below. Like candles, it was. He reclined, getting a splash of wine and a good read.

“Hmm, somezhing nice and trashy. . ."

Keeper and the Owl: Sins of the Prince. Ah yes, a sordid little romp about alowly peasant fornicating with the effete, yet quite slutty, owl prince. Aloise smirked, especially at its footer:

“Based on true events."

Pik burst in some time later. Usually, her presence was enough to agitate Aloise, but all things considered. She spied the bun, padded over, and tossed a bag on table, grinning. She opened her mouth to speak, but Aloise placed a finger on his lips.

“Shhh." A gesture to the sleeping Edwin.

Pik boggled. “. . .what."

A nod from Aloise.

“H-how!?"

A dark smirk. “What is it you said? Gargle his cock?"

“Jee-heeze, bun boy."

Sincerity overtook Aloise's next works. “Yes. Well. Pik. . . zhank you."

The impish girl tilted her head, pointed ears straightening. “Buh?"

“Mm. For letting me have some time with him."

She blinked, but then understood. Pik had agreed to let Aloise have a little solo-time with Edwin, and she wanted the excuse to go explore, anyway.

“Any time, bun boy. But don't hog his hog all to yourself!"

Aloise chuckled, closing his book. “What were you up, by zhe way?"

Pik smacked her lips and ran a hand through long hair. “Uhh, found some stuff. Summoned some stuff. Got fucked by tentacles, the usual."

Aloise stared at her. “. . .oh."

“Murzma's spellbook," said Pik. “She's a horny bitch."

“Hmm."

Pik grinned. “But, so am I."

“Oh Pik, please."

“Hey! You were just talkin' about snarfing Eddy's schlong!"

“Yes, well, I did it with dignity."

“Pfft. You probably just sucked his nuts."

“. . .yes, but, zhat's beside zhe point. . ."

Pik waived him off. “Yat's bee-shides zee point."

She shuffled into her bag. “Anyway. . . so um. Al. Er. Aloise."

He looked at her, vaguely irritated. “Hmmm?"

Pik's tone shifted, frowning. “You um. You're feeling that, right?"

He stared at her, not responding at once. There was, in essence, only one thing Pik could be referring to in terms of “feeling." A presence, an undercurrent of energy. A specific, dangerous kind of energy, the kind he and Pik were aptly familiar with. Daemonic in design, sitting at the heart of this gilded flying leviathan.

“Unfortunately," he said, voice low.

“Should we. . . be worried?"

Aloise gave a small smile. “Perhaps, zhis time Pik, we stay out of trouble, no? I rather like zhe hot water and wine and food."

He glanced at Edwin's sleeping body. “If not for yourself or me, Pik. . . at least for our Eddy?"

“Heh," chuckled Pik. “That's why I'm worried."