The Teaser Game

Evangelos took a sip from his still-sizzling hot chocolate. “May I ask a question?” Clarisse glanced upwards “Sure?” Evangelos set his reindeer-themed mug down on the smooth mahogany table, folding his hands. “Nico was born on December twentieth, right? If I recall correctly, his full name is Nicholas Saint Montague. Was that reference intentional?” He finished his sentence with a cheeky smile and a sing-song lilt. Clarisse blinked, but her eyes illuminated, as did her face as she broke out into a big smile. “Ah, you mean jolly ol’ Saint Nicholas, right? Aha, yeah. I wanted to commemorate the holiday, even if he wasn’t born exactly on Christmas.” Evangelos chuckled, picking up his mug for another creamy, chocolatey sip. “To be honest,” Clarisse continued, “I wasn’t able to think of a suitable name for the longest time! After giving birth, I remained in the hospital for three days. That entire time, I was either napping or holding my boy close and wondering what the heck I was going to name him. I was thinking about well-known characters associated with Christmas and contemplated several, uh, ‘unique’ options. Some were ordinary, like ‘Kevin’ from Home Alone or ‘Buddy’ from that one elf movie,” she paused, closing her eyes and smiling sheepishly as she replayed the memory in her head. “I even thought about naming him ‘Rudolph.’”
Evangelos shorted, almost spilling his drink. “Rudolph? Nico doesn’t even have a red nose!” Clarisse shook her head. “Nope, he certainly doesn’t- although he was really blue when he was born. Perhaps I should’ve named him ‘Smurf.’” Evangelos gave a full-fledged laugh at that. Clarisse smiled sheepishly, half-heartedly giggling alongside him. “On my third day -December twenty-fourth- I was listening to the Christmas music the hospital staff were playing- helps ease the patient’s nerves, ya know? I wasn’t paying too much attention to it, but when they began playing ‘Jolly Ol’ Saint Nicholas’ on the speakers and I was thinking about my son at the very same time, and that’s when it hit me: Nicholas Montague! I was ecstatic to finally have found my son’s name!” She clapped her hands in glee, smiling with pride. She then shrunk into herself somewhat bashfully, cheeks lighting with a faint red.
She glanced towards the floor, fiddling with the handle of her mud as she spoke. “I know Cory would’ve been proud of me for my cleverness. He was always so impressed with me, even when I never did anything that awe-inspiring…” A small smile played her lips as her speech slowed, Evangelos eyebrows knitted together at the sudden change of tone. Clarisse continued, her voice hitched. “I… I didn’t think that would be the first Christmas I would be alone. I was hoping it would be another few decades before I would have to say goodbye to him. Actually, I never got to say goodbye at all…” Her pitch had diminished to a soft whisper, her smile gone.

Evangelos’ eyes conveyed pity as he reached his dominant hand out, gently clasping her exposed palm. After a moment, she squeezed it back. “I knew that, his heart condition was sporadic, but I never thought it would just… give out, that day. The call I got from his colleagues was… the worst thing I’ve ever experienced. Even worse than the heartbreak of when Jose left me pregnant all those year ago. Cory was… a one of a kind. He was always so cheery, so supportive, never had a bad thing to say 'bout nobody. He took care of Alonzo like he was his own. He was such a good dad, and husband…” Clarisse’s breathing intensified, trying to hold back the flood of old tears, of old grief, threatening to spill from her sockets. “We only had a decade together, and now he’s gone… I deserved more time with him- his children deserved more time with him!” She weakly slammed her fist into the table, causing it to shake and rattle the two mugs. Evangelos quickly caught his own before it spilled.

A minute, maybe two, passed in silence. Only the sound of Clarisse’s sniffling was audible in the cold, thick air. Evangelos, still holding on to her hand, kept his gaze away from her face as he carefully chose his next words. Momentarily, his lips parted. “Your husband, Cory… you may never meet him again now, but I promise you’ll all see him again someday.” Clarisse looked up at Evangelos, preemptively knowing where this was going. Still, it was a nice sentiment that never wore old for her. Evangelos continued. “He may be gone from this earth, but his spirit is still thriving, waiting for when the time comes that you can reunite,” Evangelos managed a small smile. “I understand it’s hard -it always will be- but just keep in mind that he’s in better hands now; and there will come a time where you two can be together forevermore. Not just you two, but your kids as well. You can return to those good times without any fear of health problems, as those humanitarian deficiencies will wiped from our bodies and minds.” Clarisse held onto every word as the young man spoke, familiar with every truth he spoke. “…Yes,” She said at last, “I-I know, it’s just… hard to trust that sometimes, and…” She sighed. “Thank you. I appreciate it, really. You’re a sturdy young boy, ya know that?” She playfully nudged him with her elbow. He smiled. “Thanks, but I’m nothing special. I just repeat what He teaches us,” he glanced up at the sky. Clarisse followed his gaze, mellowing at the sight of the sun tempered by the snow. The weather made that glowing ball of heat far easier on the eyes. “Yeah, I know what ya mean.”

She stood up and grabbed her mug, gesturing for Evangelos to follow her. “C’mon now, let’s not waste our precious time sitting in the corner thinkin’ ‘bout ol’ woes, let’s join the rest of the congregation.” Evangelos blinked in surprise but smiled and stood after a moment. “Alright, I’m in the mood for some more Christmas cookies, so let’s get going. Oh, by the way, between you and me: Nico told me he had a little gift for you.” Clarisse was taken aback, but with joy and not dread. “Oh, really? Any other details?” she asked, cocking a brow with a smirk. “He apparently made it himself,” he stated neutrally, sipping from his mug. Clarisse walked ahead, mentally preparing for the moment her son presented her with his gift as she rejoined the bright, bustling congregation.

(*Holy fudge y’all, that was much longer than a teaser. Oh well, hope y’all appreciate it!)

Next word: touch.

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She moved without thinking, walking over to the table. She trailed her fingers over the tops of the chairs, imagining sitting there for dinner. Imagined laughing with the four people behind her, eating homemade pizza and playing video games afterwards. Imagined ending the night with a hot shower and going to sleep in a real bed, with a mattress and a comforter.

[name_f][/name_f]

It was a wonderful thought. A daydream. A distant life that she ached to reach out and touch.

[name_f][/name_f]

“It’s beautiful here,” she said softly, unable to hide the wonder from her voice.

[name_f][/name_f]

Next:[name_f][/name_f] bed

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[name_f][/name_f]

I wouldn’t worry, that’s basically my whole existence and yours was actually very interesting

[name_f][/name_f]

“Do it!” [name_f]Anya[/name_f] told him. “Times like these are the ones when I always wish I had a body.”
[name_f][/name_f][name_f]Vesper[/name_f] slowly pushed the door open. There was no response from the figure in the bed, even after [name_f]Vesper[/name_f] crossed the room and shook his shoulder gently.
[name_f][/name_f]“Hey,” [name_f]Vesper[/name_f] said. "Wake up! You had a plan for today, right? "
[name_f][/name_f]Sel finally moved, blinking with sleep-crusted eyes. “A plan. [name_f][/name_f]. [name_f][/name_f]. .” he mumbled. Then, more lucidly, “Why are you in my room?”

[name_f][/name_f]

Next word: wake

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Her car wouldn’t start.

[name_f][/name_f]

[name_f]Maggie[/name_f] turned the key in the ignition again, listening to the engine make a sad whirring noise. It sputtered and coughed, choking on exhaust, but still didn’t wake up. It was her sixth time trying, and nothing had changed.

[name_f][/name_f]

“Come on,” she muttered, trying again. Who knows? Maybe seventh times the charm.

[name_f][/name_f]

The car wheezed like a twelve year old asthmatic and went silent again.

[name_f][/name_f]

Next:[name_f][/name_f] silent

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Lmao.

The car ride home was dead silent as both father and son stared straight ahead, avoiding each other’s uneasy aura. Despite his composure, Sebastian was screaming on the inside. This was the worst possible outcome he could’ve imagined. ‘Dear God, why did I go…’? It had been a party dedicated to Halloween, a holiday that Sebastian knew since the day he could comprehend words was nothing less than a celebration of satanic paganism. Worse still, the presence of alcohol at a party full of teenagers meant that there would be legal repercussions for the partygoers that weren’t quick-minded enough to leave before the cops arrived.

Sebastian glanced resentfully at dad, who paid no mind to his son as he wore an expression of neutrality; eyes concentrated fully on the road ahead of him. ‘Dammit.’ Once word got out that it was his father who had called the police on Kabir’s big Halloween Bash, ruining the fun for everyone in attendance, Sebastian knew he was going to become public enemy number one at school.

‘Dammit…!’

Fantastic. He was already such an outcast, regarded as that weird religious kid with no friends- obviously he needed the label of ‘snitch’ to further damage his already tumultuous reputation. Not just that, but the fight he had gotten into with Christopher halfway through the party, and Victoria having to witness that…

Oh God. Vicki. How was she to get back home!? No way her parents could find out she went to some teen’s alcoholic party, they’d kill her!

‘DAMMIT…!’

Sebastian felt a sniffle emerge from his nose, goaded on by tears forming in the corners of his eyes. ‘No, this is not the way for a proper young man to act.’ He heard mom’s stern voice echo within his mind. No doubt the tone would be far harsher once he and his father arrived home. Still, he took the old advice and swallowed his misery. He must not lose his composure in front of a person as important as dad. He was certain he’d have plenty to cry about in his bed later that night once mom was finished with him.

Next word: cry.

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Oh gosh I feel bad for [name_m]Sebastian[/name_m]

[name_f][/name_f]

(extra long bit if you want more context ig)
[name_f][/name_f][name_f]Vesper[/name_f] walked through the fiery ruins of. [name_f][/name_f]. [name_f][/name_f]. somewhere. There was too much ash to even begin to identify where he was–until he saw a familiar black door, twisted nearly in half and lying like a corpse in the entrance to the room it was supposed to protect. Standing in that room was [name_f]Lucia[/name_f], and at her feet lay a dark-clad figure, so slim as to seem almost comically small beside the hero’s muscled strength. His eyes stared sightlessly at the crumbling ceiling, his face burnt almost beyond recognition. A sob built in Vesper’s throat. He moved forwards, but [name_f]Lucia[/name_f] grabbed his arm and looked him in the eyes.
[name_f][/name_f]“We don’t cry for the villains, Vesper,” she said. Her voice was firmer than he suspected his would ever be. “That’s the first lesson a hero learns: Villains chose their path. They deserve punishment.”
[name_f][/name_f][name_f]Vesper[/name_f] had learned that lesson, over and over again. But he couldn’t make himself believe it anymore. “What if they didn’t?” he whispered, trying to make her understand. “What if they don’t?”

[name_f][/name_f]

Next word: punishment

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Thank you for pitying [name_m]Sebastian[/name_m]. He and his sisters are in a shitty situation.

[name_f][/name_f]

By the time his verbal admonishment was concluded, [name_m]Sebastian[/name_m] was silently shaking in his chair. Across the table from him were his parents: mom to the left, dad to the right. Each bore an expression of disapproving disdain. Nevertheless, the matriarch had decided that Sebastian’s discipline wasn’t over yet. No, he still had to complete a course of lengthy prayer tomorrow morning and confession to the pastor of the congregation on [name_f]Sunday[/name_f], but that wasn’t on her mind. Reflecting on the years prior, [name_f]Elizabeth[/name_f] recalled a very potent, very impactful punishment she’d dealt unto the children when they’d committed an egregious wrong. It was rooted in her own childhood, and she hadn’t completely dispelled the visceral memories that lingered in her mind after the fact.

[name_f][/name_f]

Regardless, Sebastian’s sins tonight had been inexcusably severe. He needed to feel the true weight of his actions. He likely didn’t realize it, but his misdeeds affected more than himself. His parents, his sisters, and his congregation would bear the burden of shame and disgrace for a long time to come. However, [name_f]Elizabeth[/name_f] knew most of the blame would be shelved unto her and [name_m]Henry[/name_m]. After all, they were his parents, and thus responsible for his behavior. [name_f]Elizabeth[/name_f] could envision The [name_m]Lord[/name_m] casting a wagged finger of disapproval at her for her shortcomings. It was so utterly, apoplectically shameful.

[name_f][/name_f]

Several moments of silence passed between them. Eventually, [name_f]Elizabeth[/name_f] spoke up. “I think,” Sebastian’s eyes raised, as did Henry’s. “This occasion calls for more… corporal punishment.” Her gaze was cold, and [name_m]Sebastian[/name_m] trembled visibly, biting his lower lip. Henry’s eyes darted to the floor; his previously cold expression now mellowed into vague sombrerity.

[name_f][/name_f]

Next word: cold.

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It was nearly 3am on a [name_f]Tuesday[/name_f] night –or, rather, a [name_f]Wednesday[/name_f] morning– and she was cold, and hungry, and possibly dying. Was it too much to ask for someone to just be somewhere when she needed them to be?
[name_f][/name_f]She kicked the door again, this time with feeling.

[name_f][/name_f]

Next:[name_f][/name_f] door

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“Don’t open the black door, please,” the [name_m]Titan[/name_m] said as he turned the ornate handle on the white one. Inside was a seemingly normal bedroom, although it didn’t have windows. “Before you ask, no, I don’t know why I installed a spare bedroom in my evil lair, but I imagine you’re glad of it now.”
[name_f][/name_f]“Thank you,” said [name_f]Vesper[/name_f], surprising himself.
[name_f][/name_f]“You’re welcome!” The [name_m]Dark[/name_m] [name_m]Titan[/name_m] smiled as he tossed [name_f]Vesper[/name_f] a silver key, then moved to leave the room. “You can call me Sel, by the way.”

[name_f][/name_f]

Next word: spare

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Sebastian stood over the sink of his and his sisters’ bathroom, leaning diagonally with him palms clutched on the countertop. His knuckles were sheet white and trembling violently, his messy brown hair draped over his face- concealing his visible fear. Diagonal of him stood Elizabeth, hands placed on her hips as she waited for Henry to return with the necessary equipment. Her gaze remained fixed upon her son’s trembling back, her eyes narrowing as her initial neutrality soured into distaste. ‘Why must he be so feeble?’

Her lips pursed into a barely noticeable frown. Becoming increasingly averse to the sight of her son, she broke her stare away from him and adverted her gaze to the mirror beside of her. Analyzing her own reflection, Elizabeth instantly noticed her glacial green eyes. Just like her mother’s.

Elizabeth’s recollection barged its way into her conscious, flickers of old memories seeping into her cortex.

She saw images of a belt being raised high into the air, then coming down upon her vision with a loud, cruel SNAP. This was followed by a thunderous jolt of pain that overwhelmed her entire body, her mouth agape as her voice soared. When she had opened her eyes, tears immediately poured out like a guizer, the only figure in her watery vision being her mother, standing tall, cold, and dignified as ever. Her emerald gaze blazed intently.

Elizabeth clamped her eyes shut. She did not want to risk showing weakness in front of her offspring, did not want him to notice her wavering resolve nor let him hope that his punishment would be absolved. The white wooden door opened abruptly, snapping Elizabeth’s gaze front and center. Henry had returned; his expression distant as he held in his right hand a firm leather military belt. This belt was never worn by any man in this household, no. It was reserved specifically for disciplinary measures, though it hadn’t seen use in several years. Tonight, however, was the night for its grand return.

Elizabeth spared one last glance at Sebastian, whose eyes were now firmly glued to the belt, his expression a painting of fear. She could tell he was no doubt having a flashback much like she had.

“…Twenty lashes. Wait five seconds in between each lash.” she stated flatly, commanding Henry to action. She had learned not to be hasty with whippings, as the pain would be over too quickly. It was best to let the pain from one whipping dwell for a few moments to maximize its impact, before replacing with a new, fresh pain. Sebastian emitted a small whimper, and Henry approached. Elizabeth was apathetic. She couldn’t afford to spare him now.


Next word: mercy.

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Had they always been this way? Opposites in every sense of the word? She supposed they had been. She thought back to their childhood, back to [name_m]Colton[/name_m] with his angel smile and gentle hands where she had always been a devilish grin and calloused fingers.
[name_f][/name_f]They were fire and ice, the sun and the moon, love and hatred, truth and deception. [name_f]Mercy[/name_f][name_f][/name_f] and Vengeance[name_f][/name_f].
[name_f][/name_f]She wondered if when he looked at her he saw everything he’d been desperate to get away from.
[name_f][/name_f]Maybe it was the same way she looked at him and saw everything she could never be.

[name_f][/name_f]

Next:[name_f][/name_f] sun

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(oh nooooo :sob:)

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“You know what’s cool?” [name_m]Basil[/name_m] muttered. “The sun.”
[name_f][/name_f][name_m]Arnold[/name_m] started, “Well, not exactly–” before he remembered that [name_m]Basil[/name_m] was delirious and therefore unlikely to care about semantics.

[name_f][/name_f]

Next word: remembered

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Standing there was a girl.

[name_f][/name_f]

[name_m]Wild[/name_m] black hair tumbled down her back, strands of it obscuring her ocean blue eyes. She had one hand braced against the door frame, the other pressing hard on her side. Blood coated her thin fingers, seeping between them and dripping onto her boots.

[name_f][/name_f]

The sight of her was familiar and foreign. She was a young woman where he remembered a child, a living figure where he pictured a ghost.

[name_f][/name_f]

She grinned at him, a flash of teeth in the warm lighting.

[name_f][/name_f]

“Hello, brother mine,” said his sister, [name_f]Keira[/name_f]. “Long time, no see.”

[name_f][/name_f]

And then she fell.

[name_f][/name_f]

Next:[name_f][/name_f] foreign

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“Hey, Alejandro,” Summer asked, chewing on her latest bite of froyo. “Hm?” he perked up, raising a brow. “You told me that you and your parents are foreigners, yes?” Alejandro turned to stare directly at the lush greenery ahead of them, adjusting his position on the bench. “…Yeah. My parents and I are originally from Spain; we came to America when I was about thirteen. It was… difficult to socialize and fit in…” Summer knitted her brow, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Suddenly, her eyes lit up.

“Hey, does that mean you’re fluent in Spanish? Can you speak a little bit to me?” Summer grinned mischievously. Alejandro shuffled in place. “I… don’t know. I’m a little self-conscious about it,” he replied tentatively.


Next word: conscious.

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Standing there in the middle of the room –his light hair messy in the morning sun that shone through the windows– was [name_m]Warren[/name_m]. He had changed clothes at some point, the knees of his trousers no longer bloody and his shirt no longer ripped.

[name_f][/name_f]

She became suddenly conscious of her own attire, suddenly aware that her clothes were stiff with dried blood, gashes in her sleeves and the legs of her pants.

[name_f][/name_f]

She reached up to see if there was still blood smeared on her cheeks –there wasn’t, oddly enough– as she watched [name_m]Warren[/name_m] hand [name_m]Mathias[/name_m] a small paper bag, a wild look on his face.

[name_f][/name_f]

“So,” he began, “I have good news and bad news.”

[name_f][/name_f]

“I do hate when you say things like that,” [name_m]Mathias[/name_m] huffed, peering into the bag.

[name_f][/name_f]

Next:[name_f][/name_f] news

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“So, I have good news and bad news,” said [name_m]Jem[/name_m], suddenly self-conscious. He pushed his glasses farther up on his nose. [name_m]Ash[/name_m] peeked over his shoulder at the papers.
[name_f][/name_f]“Those both seem like bad news,” [name_m]Ash[/name_m] pointed out.
[name_f][/name_f][name_m]Jem[/name_m] glared at him, in a friendly way. “Well, they are. But I pet a really cute dog today, so, that’s proof that not everything is awful, I guess. But, yeah, I really just have bad news.”

[name_f][/name_f]

Next word: dog

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“No, no. no. That dog’s too tiny. No, that dog’s too skinny. Do y’all really not got any cool-lookin’ dogs here?” Bernard harangued. Summer rolled her eyes. She was an expert in masking her frustration, but this particular customer was really testing her patience. Regardless, she plastered on her customer service smile and chirped sweetly. “Well, sir, what do you have in mind when you say, ‘cool-looking dog’?” He began gesturing incoherently. “I’m talkin’ ‘bout one of them dogs that really scares the shit outta you when ya pass by. A mean lil’ fucker who won’t hesitate to rip ya face off it ya dare mess with its owner or property. I ain’t tryna get cheated on again…” he grumbled, eyes darkening as he stared off into space. Summer had no clue what that was all about, but if he really wanted an intimidating dog, she had a hunch where to go. “Very well,” she said, “Come with me.”

She and Bernard walked deeper into the shelter, alerting a very ravenous dog of their approach. “Christ, that dog’s got one mean bark!” exclaimed Bernard. “Yes, well, I hope this dog matches your expectations.” Summer replied quietly. They eventually stopped in front of the cage, coming face-to-face with a growling, saliva-covered mutt with sharp teeth and fierce eyes. Bernard’s eyes widened.

“Holy fuck! Now that’s what I’m talkin’ about!” He bellowed, causing Summer to flinch. “This dog hasn’t been very receptive to training. The reason we placed him so far in the back was to ensure he didn’t bother anyone else,” Summer explained, trying to subtly warn Bernard that this dog likely wasn’t worth it. “What’s his breed?” Bernard asked, locking eye contact with the threatening mutt. “I believe he is a Pitbull-Rottweiler mix.” Bernard snapped his head towards Summer, eyes bulging. “REALLY!?” He roared, echoing throughout the hall. Summer shuddered in discomfort. “This hound keep gettin’ better and better! What’s his name?” Summer reluctantly glanced at the nametag hanging loosely off the dog’s cage. She squinted. “It appears… his name is Cookie Dough.” She replied tentatively. “COOKIE DOUGH!? WHAT KINDA CAREBEAR-ASS NAME IS THAT!?” Do I even need to iterate how high the decibel level that Bernard had reached at this point? R.I.P to Summer’s ears. “Christ almighty, we gotta get this champ a new name ASAP.”

“What would you recommend, sir?” Summer asked tiredly. Bernard’s brain short-circuited, and he spent the next five minutes in silence as he pondered that question. Summer was beginning to get nervous. Suddenly, Bernard jolted to attention. “D’ARTAGNAN! I’VE FINALLY GOT IT!” he was practically beaming in pride at his own creativity, and in such a short time, no less! Summer’s eyebags had pronounced even more deeply since the beginning of this conversation, but she was relived that the end was quickly approaching. “Would you like to take him now, sir?” “HELL YEAH! Let’s get this bad boy outta here!”

No more needed to be said on the matter.


Next word: eyes.

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The ad had slightly oversold the counter space. [name_m]Or[/name_m] maybe it hadn’t. It was impossible to tell, with the kitchen appliances that appeared to be covering every square inch of counter space. There was a mixer, a blender, a crockpot, two toasters, a coffee maker, a rice cooker, an airfryer, a pressure cooker, and a few others she had never even seen before.

[name_f][/name_f]

Her surprise must’ve shown on her face, because [name_f]Sadie[/name_f] laughed from beside her.

[name_f][/name_f]

“Yeah, get used to that,” she said. “The cabinets here are really small, and my brother is unwilling to part with any of his toys.”

[name_f][/name_f]

“They are not toys,” [name_m]Nathaniel[/name_m] insisted. “They are helpful cooking assistants.”

[name_f][/name_f]

“Whatever you say.”

[name_f][/name_f]

[name_m]Nathaniel[/name_m] looked increasingly annoyed. [name_f]Sadie[/name_f] smiled innocently at him.

[name_f][/name_f]

[name_m]Alec[/name_m] rolled his eyes. He seemed to do that a lot. “As claustrophobic as it may seem, it’s actually worth it. [name_m]Nathaniel[/name_m] is a pretty great cook, and we’ve had some really tasty meals in here.”

[name_f][/name_f]

“Why the two toasters though?” [name_f]Maggie[/name_f] asked.

[name_f][/name_f]

“We like toast.”

[name_f][/name_f]

Next:[name_f][/name_f] brother

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Once we were all seated around the table, eating Arianwen’s excellent stew, she said tersely, “Now, why don’t I introduce the two of you properly. [name_m]Calixto[/name_m], this is [name_m]Aldrick[/name_m], my apprentice. [name_m]Aldrick[/name_m], may I introduce you to [name_m]Calixto[/name_m] Reyenna, [name_m]Mage[/name_m] of [name_m]Castle[/name_m] [name_m]Valiant[/name_m], and my brother.”
[name_f][/name_f]“You have a brother? And he’s like that?” I blurted, although maybe I should have focused on the ‘Mage of [name_m]Castle[/name_m] Valiant’ part. This guy had to be pretty powerful to have been handpicked by [name_f]Queen[/name_f] [name_f]Gabriela[/name_f] herself, although his tracking spell had sort of already proven that.
[name_f][/name_f]“Yes, I have a brother. We’re not on the best of terms right now,” said [name_f]Arianwen[/name_f] carefully, “but the fact remains that he’s here now, and I expect the two of you to be nice to each other. [name_f]Do[/name_f] you think you can manage that?”
[name_f][/name_f]I gave [name_m]Calixto[/name_m] an appraising look. He gazed back at me, still seeming like he was looking for something.

[name_f][/name_f]

Next word: terms

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