Java sits at her desk giggling over her private journal, her feet swinging back and forth. A collection of secret stories, that at this moment, only Java has the pleasure of reading.

Perhaps you, the reader, would be delighted in the tales of her silly world.

“You Gave Me a Reason”

We are nearing the end of the winter, the peak of the coldest days. The rock hits the water with a silent splash back. The reflection of the moon shivers at the same time Reason does.

‘It’s so cold..’ their breath puffs with warm air as they wait for Ryhme to finish whatever it is they are doing with Matthias.

Hanz why did their mind keep going back to him? Was it because the connection to Ryhme was transferring to their own nerves? Was it because it was cold? Was it-

What was that? 

The reflection of the water shimmered for a brief moment.

“Reason.”

A shiver runs up their spine to the short direct response. What is he doing here?

“Where’s Rhy-”

He cut them off before the obvious question was asked “Do you really mean to ask that?”

His eyes shifted to look over the cold form that was Reason. The night did well to hide the warmth in their cheeks, was this it? Was Hanz here to discipline them for all their jests? Their eyes followed him as he moved. His hand moving in the familiar signs of discipline.

“Reason. A question was asked, were you joking about being my student?” Reason watched as he stepped closer. Stumbling stuttering to response
‘I-uh-”
shuffling back from his presence they felt the slip below their feet before they could think about what was happening.

[You see some hastily scribbled notes regarding Part 3 –  a fall in the river and Hanz jumping in to grab Reason….Calling them foolish- looking for cuts.. but in a firm ‘i’m just making sure your okay’ way and casting a warm spell teehee]

“Reasoning with the Flame”

“REVEAL YOURSELF YOU COWARD!” Rhymes voice carried throughout the circle.

The others had just left, it was too risky this time. They got Java real bad, but wounds heal, right?

There was no time to falter, the sniper was out there. Watching. And Rhyme could feel it deep in the pit of their chest. Their mouth opened to yell out again, their fists shaking at their side.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Ryhme was right!

The dirt beside their foot exploded into dust, a warning shot. Rhyme flinched but remained standing, Hanz has prepared them for this.

“Yes, prove you can fight me!”

“Why would I do that? Hmm?”
The wind carried this voice, an unfair advantage. If Ryhme could just get sight on them.

[Gotta cook this story more, slow burn? Rivalry? Teasing? What more do we know about the mysterious dangerous sniper]

             “A Shot Through the Heart”

They were all going down.  How easy the people of Runheim fell. They are weak

A cackle tore out of him. His shield raised and a blade that was still dripping with blood, Alaric readied for her.

An arrow nicks his ear as it whistles past. Who dare shot at him? Who dare-

His reflexes too slow as a form barrels into him, the arrow was a distraction.

Wind knocked from him, he struggled to fight back. They clearly were skilled and knew exactly what they were doing,
“Fight it.” A Rogalian accent spoke down on him, an order against the order of blood lust from his mistress.

“I-I cant!” He resists, “I won’t!”
Alaric twisted his arm and attempted to use the leverage underneath to toss Sir Jack, and his shield, to the side. It’d have been a small price to pay. Had it worked.

A sharp bolt attached to a crossbow pricked his clothed chest.

“Fight. It.” The vampire hunter kept eye contact with Alaric as he warned him. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

His body burned and felt as if he was boiling, his blood lust too strong, For Her.

His body barely twitched and a sharp burning pain tore through his chest.

Sir Jack kept his gaze fixed upon Alaric, a deep gaze that never faltered even after shooting him. A shiver crawled up his spine as he looked away.
What was he doing? He was pinned. Was he really looking for ways out of this position? Or was it because he couldn’t stand to be under his sight?

——-‐————————-(part 2)
How long have I been here? 
His mind wavered in and out, pain surging throughout his body slowly anchoring him back into reality.

Days? Hours? 

A groan escaped from his lips. The memories gradually aligning themselves. He remembered the fight, the chaos, the struggle.

“You back with us, Alaric?”
Jack 

He struggled to move, hands bound. Oh right. He’d been fight his restraints since arriving here with Jack.

 “Listen son, I-”

Alaric interrupted him, “Did what you had to. I get it.”

He cringed from the discomfort of speaking. His voice was as harsh as how it felt. Jack approached and stood before him. His looming figure still proving a threat as if Alaric was still not under control of himself.

Am I in control? 

He flinched back as Jack reached towards him, his body remembered what he was choosing to bury deep down.
 “Woah,” Jack laid a hand on top of his, a gesture to settle him down as if he were some kind of feral scared animal,
“You’re okay. I’m letting you out.”

Alaric slowly drew in a breath and slowly regained his posture, as a Gothic Tower would. He was back in control. With bounds removed he slowly rubbed his swollen wrists and flexed his fingers. He’d been fighting too long. It’s a wonder his body didn’t break under Jack’s pressure.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Alaric paused at the comment, “You said-”

Jack interrupted him this time, “Out of the restraints. Alaric. You don’t think after all that you’ve done I’m letting you go. No, her claws are still deep within you. We have more work to do.”