Private Like a Horse and Carriage

[Nathan Bloodscrawl]

Wearing: Wedding Tux (All Red)

Armed With: Epican Semi-Auto Pistol, Nathan's Lightsaber.


Even Nathan had been impressed by Vera's Manor (Think something the white gold tower in elder scrolls), situated in the waters of Atrisia on its own self contained Mini-Island. Difficult to reach. Hundreds of Aqua Droids swimming below to surprise invaders. Even more intense security inside.

He had decided to go to his wedding wearing Vera's favorite color. He had invited everyone except Syd and Zabka. Syd, because it would have been a travesty having her as a guest. Zabka for sparing Syd.

He felt the faintest edge of apprehension. The first time he had been married, it had been pins and needles.

Nathan, curiously, had sent out feelers.

David, a Model 1 Nuetralizer, was his only way to contact anyone in House Io at the moment. The Droid that had convinced him to spare Syd the first time. Everything afterwards was a bit of a haze to him. It had been so long since he had thought of it...

The Model 1 had passed Nathan's message on to an agent of the Doves. This agent had then surreptitiously left a message to Percival Io , Alessandra Io , and Akemi Io meet at pre arranged shuttle coordinates to be guests at his wedding, taking place at an anonymous location. Perhaps they would deduce they were on Atrisia, but he honestly didn't mind. He had informed everyone of his idea, and then they agreed to it.

After massively buffing the security. A platoon of Castle Morpheus Knights had accompanied Nine Lives herself, along with Vera's less advanced Sisters Magnus and Meier, followed by a small army of Soldier Biots, all with Supermodel level appearances, dressed in Cosplay outfits due to Vera's oddball sense of humor.

There was one condition if they were to show...

No one else in House Io could know. No one.

As he walked through the halls, he passed by some of the guests. This was to be a relatively small affair beyond the security. He still didn't understand sometimes how he had gone from living hand to mouth to being given vast amounts of wealth he wasn't truly capable of enjoying.

At least with Vera around he would at least sometimes be distracted from constantly feeling and remembering the suffering of Lysandra Crownwraithe.

He stopped at Westenra Mina , here in her Psychologist guise dressed in green. She was alone, sipping a Stawby Daiquiri by a bookshelf and a table of delicacies

He went over to talk to her.

"I gotta admit, Nathan, I never thought you would ever be the type to marry again after what you went through." The Android said, currently calling herself Lorna once more.

"But you marrying Vera..." Lorna said, staring into her glass.

"That floored me..."

She smiled ruefully. "It's moments like that where I question whether my psychological analysis databases function at all."

"How are you feeling, Lorna?" Nathan inquired.

"I get by. I've been sticking to feeding on criminals. Purse snatchers mostly..." She admitted.

"Are you taking walks? Have you been seeking out new work?" Nathan asked

"Living on savings...I go out to look at the night sky. Not lately though. Not after Tython."

"Get the hell off Coruscant, Lorna. That place is gonna get hit hard by the Sith." he warned. "I can feel it."

"I live frugally and pack lightly, Nathan. But thank you for your concern." she responded.

"It meant a lot to Vera, you showing." Nathan said.

Lorna rolled her eyes. "Yeah, well...you did get me pets..."

She put her hand on his shoulder.

"Are you sure about this? I knew Vera back in the day. She's not a Brain Demon Cultist but she wasn't that far off from one at a certain point, especially in the early days."

"I see something in her. Something... something I cannot explain rationally..." Nathan said, inwardly surprised at how quickly he was coming to her defense, despite being well aware what kind of beast she was after watching her kill.

"But it's something that wants her to be more. To evolve beyond it's current state."

"I hope you know what you're doing." Lorna cautioned once more, not taking her hand off his shoulder.

"So do I..." he replied, withdrawing and nodding.

Along the way, Nathan spotted Moya Virtu in one of the Lounges, listening to one of Vera's Psy-Pire manservants play the violin.

"Moya..." he called out, walking into the pleasant but utilitarian lounge. Moya, wearing a new Gown, smiled and invited him to sit next to her.

Moya had been the first person he had invited to the wedding. She needed to be around people given how Cortosis, her old rabbit, had finally passed away recently.

"It's not what I would have recommended...but for what it's worth? Congratulations." Moya said. "A question...does she make you happy?"

Nathan took a moment to think.

"As close to it as someone like me gets..." he answered after a few seconds.

Moya nodded. "That's enough for me to hear then. I hope it works out for you."

"Same here, Moya. How's your new rabbit?"

"Adorable, as always." Moya assured.

"Thank you for accepting my invitation."

"Nathan...they told me about the Clone Army."

"I didn't activate it casually..."

"I know you didn't. What are your plans for it?"

"Beyond using them to try and help the Alliance? Not much."

Moya studied his muscle expressions.

"I believe you." she said. "I hope you have a wonderful wedding. Try to enjoy it."

"I will, Moya. You're always welcome where I travel."

Moya nodded and Nathan excused himself as he needed to talk to other guests. In the foyer, he saw Nine Lives enjoying sniffing some incense.

Nine. The woman in the shadows. The one who had mentored Laertia in the art of A.I.

In some ways, Laertia had surpassed Nine, in modularity, and close range deadliness. But Nine was still the master when it came to making her creations look and act more human.

Nine bore perhaps the single greatest responsibility among any of his allies for Laertia's rise to power. Nine was the reason Vera was a monster from the moment she had first awoken. Nine had never forgiven herself for either.

"Lady Li-Ves." he grunted, approaching.

"Ah, Master of Kytrand." Nine said silkenly, her features reminding him so much of Lysandra it hurt to look upon her.

"Nice outfit. A bit...red..."

"Family Colors. Coincidentally, also Vera's favorite. And thank you for taking time from your schedule to come here."

"Oh, nonsense, my first daughter is getting married! How could I not show up to see her off?" Nine chuckled, dressed in a crimson kimono , hair done up in that shape Gary Oldman had when he was Old Dracula. Her Morpheus Knights were nearby, one doing card tricks for some reason, the others dancing the robot.

"Lady Li-Ves, if it is not impertinence, may I ask a question?"

"Yes, my Knights dance..." Nine said with a sigh. "Yes, they do random somersaults and backflips. Sometimes because they feel like it. Other times because LOL-Random. No, I will not stop either activity, because I need my little moments of entertainment."

"No, not about that. Something else."

"Oh. Silly me. Go ahead, Sonny!"

"Why did you build Vera in such a way that she enjoys murder and cruelty? This is not me getting cold feet, mind you. This is genuine curiosity."

"Oh...I was wondering when you'd ask..." Nine admitted. "You have to understand, Nathan, when I first created Vera, I was making a bodyguard. An attack dog. 'Not' a daughter. But you know, as I made more, they grew on me, so I began to call her and the ones after my children. Then she surprised me when she began to feel Love when it should have been impossible. Vera has evolved. By tiny increments perhaps. But she continues to evolve all the same. This is her most important evolution yet, this wedding."

"And you want to see how it turns out..." Nathan trailed.

Nine shrugged. "Yeah. Pretty much. And I want to help crush the Cult."

"Nine? One day, you're going to have to answer for what you've done. Did it never occur to you that if you hadn't built Vera as being barely able to empathize, she might have been a stabilizing influence on...on..."

"... Laertia?" Nine asked softly. "I like you. You're blunt in your honesty. So you deserve a little honesty back..."

Nine took a step forward, a head taller than him.

"It was arrogance..." Nine said in a hiss. "When I became aware of her existence, I was blinded by the idea that I was not truly the last of my Bloodline. That it could live again. I focused on her to the neglect of my own daughters, the ones who would inherit my title. Vera is a naturally jealous creature. She pushed Laertia away as much as her programming allowed. But it was my fault. I think Laertia sensed I wanted to truly resurrect Clan Li-Ves through her, and naturally began to pull away from me. She rejected my caution. My desire to act in the shadows to get what I want. How Ironic her situation has forced her to become so secretive..." she explained. "She stuck around for what I could teach her, but we never truly saw eye to eye."

Nine's eyes went downcast a moment before flicking back upward to see him.

"Ironic..." she said "I approached her the same way I approached the creation of my own Daughters, thinking I was in complete control, that I could understand how she worked in a sense, and repair whatever wasn't working. But not only has my failure with her reminded me how separated from human nature I have become, it reminded my daughters how far from humanity they would always be. Millions of credits in anticipation and analysis software. Light speed minds capable of processing solutions to problems faster than any human. Beauty. Durability. Brawn. Skill. And still our failure was so enormous, so damning... because for all of those advantages, we still lost to that horrible beast Amy..."

"You played with Phyre, and you got burned..." Nathan said.

"Well... playtime is over. THIS time, we're going to burn those Cult Feths at the stake..."

"Excuse me, Nathan, the guest shuttle has arrived..." One of the Soldier Biots called out.

"Pardon me, Lady Li-Ves..." Nathan said as he went to see who had accepted his invite...

 

[Percival Io]

Abandoned ruins on the outskirts of Midas, Khemost
Seven weeks earlier…

Slowly but surely, Brain Demon shrines had become more and more visible, until they could be found in public parks and other venues. The cultists performed some of their rituals out in the open, but the most gruesome rites were still conducted in secret, away from the people and always under cover of night.

One particular coven was in operation that night, preparing for a mass sacrifice inside the husk of a former outpost. They sang hymns to their dark goddess as they painted the bodies of writhing and bound prisoners with bloody runes. Despite the secrecy they still upheld, there was a sense of confidence in the coven where paranoia and suspicion might have otherwise taken root. Perhaps the past few years of tolerance and influence they had enjoyed within House Io had made them somewhat complacent, secure in their power. Some even dared to believe they were untouchable.

The door to the outpost was suddenly flung open, letting in a shaft of pale moonlight. The witches stopped what they were doing and turned to face the intruder. A massive figure clad in strange green armor that looked like tree bark stood in the doorway. He stepped into the room, which was utterly silent save for the muffled cries of the gagged captives.

“Have you come to worship the goddess?” one of the Witches asked, her tone dark and honeyed. “Don’t be a stranger. Join us.”

“I have come to destroy you,” the figure said.

The witches laughed mockingly. “It is you who will be destroyed! We are more powerful than you can possibly imagine. It will only take one of us to kill the likes of you.”

To prove this boast, the head witch ignited her lightsaber and lunged at him. With a slash of her blade, she cut off the figure’s head. It fell to the floor. But the headless body remained standing. Slowly, it reached down and picked up its severed head. The eyes blinked, and the mouth moved.

“I will give you blow for blow,” he said, before reattaching his head to his body and drawing his sword.

The witches fell upon him, snarling and shrieking. But the mysterious figure had targeted this coven on this night for a reason. He knew they were in a weakened state, having gathered these captives to feed upon and regain their strength, and if he made a move now he would have the upper hand. His sharpened blade sliced through flesh and bone, spilling white blood and yellow guts upon the ground.

In a matter of minutes, the outpost was filled with headless corpses clad in white catsuits. Only one red-haired Witch remained alive, standing amid the remains of her decimated coven. “Who are you?!” she demanded.

The figure did not answer. He advanced toward her, ready to deliver a killing blow, only to hesitate. His gaze was fixated on her red hair.

The Witch tried to escape. Snapping out of his reverie, the man raced after her, chasing her down before she could reach the door. With a single skilled slash, he cut off her head amid a shower of foul-smelling gore.

A moment passed as her severed head fell to the floor, mouth slack and eyes rolling. The figure avoided looking at her as he turned his attention to the captives. His movements were slower and more methodical as he loosened their restraints and removed their gags. “Tell no one of what you have seen here,” he commanded.

But of course, someone talked. Someone always talked. Word spread quickly through House Io of the green-armored figure who had slaughtered an entire coven with planned precision. With his true identity remaining a mystery, the people gave him a name: the Green Knight…

---

Present day

“There you are,” Seraphine said, brushing dust from Percival’s shoulder. She smiled in approval. “You look great. This outfit really suits you.”

Percival smiled faintly at her praise. She had helped him pick out clothes for the wedding, after he had nearly made the mistake of wearing all white.

While he had officiated a few ceremonies for his parish, this was the first time Percival had ever attended a wedding as a guest. The stars simply had not aligned before now—which was a nice way of saying that all his friends and associates either died or simply never got around to tying the knot. He barely knew Vera, and he wasn’t exactly on good terms with his grandfather. Their interactions thus far had consisted of an accidental duel followed by a horrific infodump. But he appreciated the gesture, and he needed a reason to get away from all the craziness at home.

He wished he didn’t have to go alone. Even Seraphine, a leading member of the Doves, couldn’t know where he was going. As far as she knew, he was attending a Citizen's wedding.

His mismatched eyes roamed her face as she looked back at him. A first-gen Medical Neutralizer, she had the appearance of a beautiful Atrisian woman. She could’ve been his date at the wedding. He could picture her on his arm as he walked through the doors, her slender form adorned in a purple cheongsam and her long black hair pinned back with jeweled combs.

But then, he could also imagine Rebecca in her place. Except that was impossible, and he had better stop fantasizing before he lost himself in dreams.

“Thank you for your help,” he said with a nod.

“Anything for you, my friend,” Seraphine replied. “Enjoy yourself. Bring me back a slice of cake if you can!”

He bid her goodbye before heading out to the shuttle coordinates. All during the voyage to an unnamed planet, his mind was clouded. The three personas within him were well-integrated by now, but sometimes he still felt as if he were at war with himself. Torn between differing desires, mismatched motives, conflicting agendas. It was hard to know what he really wanted, let alone what he should strive for. All that he knew was that he couldn't continue on the path of soul-crushing complacency he was on now...

Nathan Bloodscrawl​

 

[Vera Mina]

Vera's idea of wedding dresses had ranged from the traditional to the most skintight cocktail dress she could comfortably wear. She had naturally chosen the red Kimono to avoid embarrassing her Mother... though she wore something much more revealing underneath regardless.

She stared at herself in the mirror, as the tailor droids attended to her. She used no make up, as her guise had been crafted with near perfect features. The very idea she would need makeup would have insulted her.

She wore a gift from Nathan, an old, slightly tarnished Lightsaber made by his family . It was tied to the Kimono.

She had of course insisted on some tradition as the wedding date had approached. They had kept separate until the actual ceremony was to be conducted.

Vera was genuinely excited. Mother had always thought West, even Magnus and Meier would get married first, due to the fact they weren't stab-happy like Vera. Yet it was Vera. The Firstborn. First to be married.

Did she love Nathan? Honestly, she didn't know. But she understood him. He understood her very well. Yet he stayed.

She could be herself around him. Every dark and ugly thought she was forced to keep hidden while acting civilized on Coruscant...she didn't have to hide it around him. She loved that. Loved it enough that she was willing to listen to his advice on mercy and such.

Vera also had created something to make Nathan feel like he had more of a family...

With the pre-wedding sake ceremony drawing near, Vera left the room, flanked by Servant Droids and headed to the Turbolift to mingle with what few guests either had wanted at the ceremony. As was so typical amongst their type, it was coworkers.

Vera exited the lift, spotted her Mother and her two, less advanced Sisters, and went over to greet them.

"Never thought you'd get over Karlie..." Magnus observed as she was greeted, having been busy chatting with one of the Soldier Biots beforehand. Magnus wore a matching pink cocktail dress with Meier. These days Magnus operated as a pediatrician on Coruscant, Meier worked as a speeder mechanic.

"Nice to know I can still surprise...* Vera replied. "How have you been, Sister?"

"Problem free. Drama free." Magnus replied. "I had an office party last week. There was cake."

Vera's haughty, arrogant mind had a split second of fear that Magnus and Meier, despite being less advanced than Vera and West, had been the smartest of the four, simply because they had the sense to remove themselves from a bad situation.

They had the most relatively normal existence. They weren't even on active duty anymore. They had avoided so much, so quietly. Everyone else had been locked into their own personal death struggle.

"I'm...happy for you, Magnus. If you ever need anything..."

"I know, Vera. And Congratulations."

"Thank you." Vera said, turning to Meier.

"You know, Meier, I know this is more than a decade or two late, but...thanks...for rescuing me at Eshan."

Meier only smiled. "Have a wonderful wedding, Sister."

Vera hugged Meier, first, then Magnus, and then went to her mother, Nine.

"I am happy for you, First Born." Nine said.

"Thank you, Mother."

"Cut him if he turns out to be another Laertia." Nine warned.

"Got the razor picked out and everything..." Vera muttered sarcastically as she headed off to find Nathan, though in truth she didn't see a warlord at all. She could see the fear Nathan tried to hide, even from himself. The fear that grew fresher and fresher...

They would share that burden...


Meanwhile...

Nathan approached Percival Io .

"I am...glad...." Nathan trailed, testing out the word openly, for his conditioning, his...programming... didn't allow him to feel most emotions too strongly. Only extremely severe stressors could affect it.

Like everything he had been through.

"...that you chose to accept my invitation..."

Nathan lacked the passion of Percival's Mother. The exuberance of the Parliament was something foreign to him. He was more Stony, more dry than she had ever been even as Darth Xiphos.

And while his Mother was mostly smiles these days (Psychotic smiles), Nathan seemingly wore a permanent frown, even on his wedding day.

And while his Mother was a vicious, likely irredeemable murderer of innocents, the worst crime he was really guilty of was repeatedly going behind the Council's back, or the betrayal of Elaine Tear, if you want to count that.

"Please...join me inside. This is certainly no place to have a conversation." Nathan said, gesturing for the Biot to follow him into the Foyer. He wanted guests to actually feel like guests...

 

[Percival Io]

"I am... glad...."

Percival waited patiently, eyebrows steadily rising. Was it truly this painful for Nathan to express himself, even something as simple as gratitude?

"...that you chose to accept my invitation..."

The Chaplain Neutralizer began to slowly nod his head, waiting for him to finish.

"Please... join me inside. This is certainly no place to have a conversation."

"Thank you for inviting me," Percival said, before he began following Nathan into the manor. "You are doing well, I hope?" Given that he was here for his wedding, one would think his grandfather was experiencing a happy period of his life. But you never knew with this family.

Nathan Bloodscrawl​

 

[Nathan Bloodscrawl]

"About as well as can be expected, given it's my wedding day..." Nathan answered.

"The recent Sith Invasion has...preoccupied me..." he added as they entered the Foyer, populated by the Soldier Biots that had been used to attack Cultist locations and hide outs across the galaxy, along with multiple Psy-Pire security.

Nathan's walk, his posture, however, was less mechanical. Something was different, despite his always grim exterior.

When the Nuetralizers had been asked to make an assessment of Nathan's current mental state, debates had taken days as they poured over the data they had from remote observation. Of course, the Cult itself had provided an invaluable history of Morris Crownwraithe's actions during the Plague, compiled by Darth Phyre herself.

Even she had never managed to learn where he had come from in her original life.

The earliest known reports of Morris Crownwraithe describe a teenager in tattered biker gear, with a red bandana covering the lower half of his face, messy dark hair and empty, pale eyes scarred blind, wielding a strange lightsaber . Personal accounts say he rarely spoke, and his movements were precise, unnatural.

Every civilian that ever ran across him during his teenage years said it was like running into a zombie, or some type of ghost. Some actually mistook him for a ghost: "I fear he was the spirit of some poor Padawan of the Jedi, unjustly slain too early, doomed to wander this endless, disease-ridden star-scape hounding after the guilty to drag them screaming into hell." had been the summary of one frightened old woman who had encountered him on the side of a road, silently standing in the middle of a field of dead Dark Jedi.

The Cultist's earliest known encounter with him was on Onderon, when his teenage self savagely murdered an entire platoon of their fragments. He had never been able to take an actual Cultist one on one though during that era. He had always had to resort to trickery to escape or the Environment to injure or kill one.

But one thing became readily apparent as the Cult's materials on him were reviewed by various chaplains: He had been studied by Phyre very extensively.

But he seemed to have become even more powerful upon his return from death: During the Plague he had struggled to survive even a Basic Cultist...now he was capable of actually soloing one, albeit with effort.

The psyche profile debaters all agreed one thing though: Nathan had been conditioned from a very young age to participate in asymmetric warfare between Force Users, from an era where the Code had such a lax hold on many Jedi that they ended up killing as much as the Sith did. He would not stop until the Cult was destroyed.

And a lot of thoughts had raced through the heads of a lot of Nuetralizers who had long detested the Cult when that report had been leaked.

Nathan stiffly removed a small pastry with a pair of tongs from a nearby platter, placed it on a plate, and handed it to Percival.

Nathan would not ask him about Cultists. Would not try to press him for info. He would simply make his case, both visually, and, occasionally, audibly.

There was no talk of heinous crimes. No sight of bloody rituals and people acting like nothing was wrong. No twisted pre recorded public service announcements from the Matriarch and her Wife. No trophies from savage battles.

"We didn't meet under the most...ideal circumstances..." Nathan said formerly, his all red wedding tuxedo contrasting against even the white catsuit his mother now preferred.

"So I decided to try again, this time in a setting that isn't a warzone. I am aware the Nuetralizers were built for war, but some of the ones who've defected over to me seem to have lost their taste for it..."

"Nathan! There you are!" Vera Mina said, gliding over in her crimson kimono. Nathan looked up, spotted his very soon to be wife, from whom much of the tech that had made the first Nuetralizer Brains had come. The red head's blue eyes darted over to Percival.

"So, this is the apple of Laertia's eye..." Vera spoke quietly. "I like his facial features. I may have to use them as a general baseline when I make a son for you."

Nathan turned the faintest bit red in the face.

"Um...one thing at a time, Vera..." he replied even more quietly, face palming.

"Clan Li-Ves is of course honored to have you..." Vera trailed. "And House Bloodscrawl is as well..."

"It's, a...it's a working title..." he added awkwardly, grim expression unchanged, save for when he glanced at Vera.

The corners of his mouth twitched upward slightly, ever so slightly, when they did.

"And Nathan, please call me Alice, when I use this face?" she requested of him, pinching his cheek affectionately.

"Sure, Alice." he replied wryly.

"He's still getting used to the name switches. Admittedly, I lose track of them too, sometimes..." Alice added.

Here was something Percival's psychology programming might have scratched it's head over:

How is it a guy who gets brutally murdered by a red head end up marrying a red head? More to the point, even if she wasn't one, why marry someone whose psych profile was roughly similar to that of The Battalion?


Percival Io

 

[Percival Io]

Nathan mentioned the recent Sith invasion. Percival felt a roiling disdain in him that he couldn't quite control. Impatience and frustration burned hot in his silvery veins. "Have you ever considered that perhaps all of these other threats to the galaxy are distractions?" he asked as they walked through the manor. His mismatched green and blue eyes roved over each room, noting where the usual furnishings had been altered with wedding decor. "Centuries have passed, yet you still fight the same enemies. If you devoted all of your attention to the Cult and sustained that focus, you could wipe them out for good."

Or so Percival wanted to believe. The Chaplain was full of bitterness, hatred, and regret toward those who had turned the women he loved into monsters. Had he been a Force Sensitive organic, it probably would have corrupted him to the Dark Side by now. Instead, his artificial psyche had sought to cope by splintering and rejoining itself, trying to make something new with the shattered pieces of who he once was. Percival, Galahad, Lancelot. And now the Green Knight. He had a new purpose, and that purpose was to destroy the Cult. But it wouldn't be enough to sustain him forever.

Nor would it be enough to sustain Nathan, it seemed. This wedding wasn't just a business deal or a marriage of convenience. Grandfather was trying to build a new life for himself, one that didn't revolve around killing.

"We didn't meet under the most... ideal circumstances... So I decided to try again, this time in a setting that isn't a warzone. I am aware the Nuetralizers were built for war, but some of the ones who've defected over to me seem to have lost their taste for it..."

"I haven't," Percival replied. "As I told you at our first meeting, I would've defected a long time ago if there weren't people who need me on Khemost." People he might soon have to spirit away from the House. He didn't have a heart, not truly, but when he thought of Thel, his chest ached as if it were breaking. Rebecca, for all that she loved her son, wouldn't have wanted him to grow up in the shadow of the Cult.

It was at that moment that Vera arrived, or rather Alice. Percival stared at her red hair and blue eyes for a little bit longer than necessary, recalling another blue-eyed redhead. He still loved Rebecca, even as he realized the creature he held in his arms every now and then was a husk of who she had been, broken and subdued. The real Rebecca was dead... but he couldn't bear to abandon even the torn shreds of her that were left behind.

"So, this is the apple of Laertia's eye... I like his facial features. I may have to use them as a general baseline when I make a son for you."

"Um...one thing at a time, Vera..."

"I think it would be better," Percival began politely. "If you blended both of your features together. You are both very attractive people, in any form."

He watched the couple's banter with an impassive expression. He had no idea why Nathan had picked her, or why she had picked him. By all rights, it made little sense. Their personalities were seemingly incompatible. Perhaps "opposites attract" was at play here?

"Will the ceremony be conducted in the Atrisian style?" he asked. Alice was dressed in a traditional kimono, Clan Li-Ves was from Atrisia... it seemed an obvious choice. He certainly didn't expect a Canto Bight-style wedding officiated by an Alvis impersonator.

Nathan Bloodscrawl​

 

[Nathan Bloodscrawl]

"I have considered the possibility..." Nathan admitted to Percival's first question.

"...but then it started to occur to him that being totally focused on the destruction of a single enemy to the point all else is neglected is the same type of mental poison that influenced your mother when she fought the Bryn'adul..." Alice finished.

"Winning at any cost is ruinous to a mind. Even a mind as advanced as yours. Or do you think I do not recognize the gaze in your eyes? They're her eyes..." Nathan said, unusually softly for him, not trying to condemn Percival. "Once...they were my own eyes."

Upon hearing Percival still had a taste for war, Nathan could only nod his head slightly in understanding.

Who is it that binds you to the House? Nathan wondered, deciding to file it away for questioning later. As stated previously, he was not here to be interrogated.

"Yes, of course. If you ever feel they would be willing to leave with you...we would be more than willing to have all of you." Nathan assured.

He could only turn very slightly red from embarrassment as the subject of children came up again.

"Oh, that's very much on the table also...it just may require a more...shall we say...old fashioned approach..." Alice replied silkenly, but with a mischievous grin.

"Again, a work in progress..." Nathan added.

"And yes, It'll be conducted in The Atrisian style..." Alice said in answer to Percival's last question. "The Sake Ceremony begins in ten minutes by the way. Nathan? We should go...and Percival, we do thank you for accepting the invitation. Please enjoy yourself. The ceremony is about to start."

"Of course, Alice..." Nathan replied turning to Percival again as she started to head to the chamber the wedding would be held in.

He turned to Percival. "Wedding is about to start. Grab a seat. And...thank you for coming..."

Nathan began walking away quickly to follow Alice...

No sooner had the two departed then Moya sauntered into the area. Everyone stole a glance at her. She saw Percival, smiled and went over to him.

"Hello, Percival. It's been a long time. How are you?" she asked sincerely.


Meanwhile...


"Nathan...to commemorate this occasion...I have a gift for you..." Alice said as they entered the main hall, where only they were at the moment. Technically.

"What is it, Alice?" Nathan asked, somewhat bemused by how excited she was.

"It occured to me... House Bloodscrawl must have more than two Bloodscrawls." she explained, having servant droids bring out something covered by a sheet on a raised repulsor platform.

Alice went over and snatched the sheet off. Nathan stared at three beautiful women in black cocktail dresses, each with golden tan skin and long blonde hair. Some older, some younger.

"Who are these supposed to be?" Nathan asked.

"Your sisters!"

Nathan did a double take.

"I...I'm not following..."

"Nathan, a house is much more than just two people. A serious house has at least five." Alice explained. "You need Enforcers. Ones who have a vested interest in your survival."

Nathan went forward and took a closer look.

"These faces...I've seen these faces...Moya showed me old photos...they were copies of your Sister. Created to bodyguard Laertia...serve as her sisters. Keep her out of trouble..." Nathan trailed. He turned to her.

"Why give me this? Didn't this exact experiment ultimately fail with my daughter?" he asked.

"An experiment performed only once is not an experiment, merely a test. A probing measure. Besides, there were unique factors back then that caused failure." Alice replied, circling the three inactive Biots.

"One, it was the first time we had ever tried anything like it outside immediate family. Two, back then, I, personally, did not have a vested interest in it's success, Three, we were trying to compete with The Amalgam, who Laertia had an entire ocean's worth of nasty complexes over. Four, Laertia's corruption was like the frog slowly getting boiled in water...so subtle, yet so incremental, that we simply, in the end, for all our supposed physical and intellectual advantages, simply had no experience with identifying and treating it..."

She stared at the Biots...

"Oh, Nathan, if only you could fathom the depth of our family's collective humiliation when we realized how badly out of our depth we were. Even a common youngling could have spotted how we were fethin' up."

"Does Laertia still have her own duplicates of these creatures?" Nathan asked.

"Unknown. Rumors persist that they are still present in some way. Others say they were destroyed long ago, either in conflict against House Io's enemies, or perhaps simply disappeared when Laertia went full whacko. Either way, it has been a long time since any caught sight of them. In any case, you have your own duplicates now."

"I...am not certain how to feel about this..."

"I suppose it would be strange from an Organic perspective... suddenly having a Sister purpose-constructed. But no stranger than having a Step Daughter purpose constructed." Alice rejoined.

"So you finally admit what Sera's initial purpose was..." Nathan trailed.

Alice slinked towards him, placing a hand on his chest.

"At least you know I want this to work. At least you know I want you enough to go to such lengths. I'm not sure if what I feel is love...but it's more than I have felt for any natural organic in a long time..." she replied quietly. "We should have a family if we are to be married. Whether we make it slowly or build it quickly. A large family. Maybe, eventually...even a happy one."

Nathan stared, realizing this was the most emotionally vulnerable he had ever seen her behave.

"Alright. I'll go along with it... perhaps they indeed will make fine Bloodscrawls..." He remarked, grasping her by the waist and pulling her close.

Alice kissed him passionately...


Percival Io

 

[Percival Io]

"Winning at any cost is ruinous to a mind. Even a mind as advanced as yours. Or do you think I do not recognize the gaze in your eyes? They're her eyes..." Nathan said, unusually softly for him, not trying to condemn Percival. "Once... they were my own eyes."

Percival did not agree. The enemies they faced were so utterly ruthless that there was hardly any difference in the outcome, it seemed. As long as the war against the Cult went on, they would cause suffering. The only way it would stop would be if they were completely and utterly eradicated. But he could tell Nathan had made up his mind, and would likely not be convinced otherwise. Besides, this was his wedding day. So Percival let the matter go without argument.

"Yes, of course. If you ever feel they would be willing to leave with you... we would be more than willing to have all of you."

He gave Nathan a nod of acknowledgment, but his gaze was fixed on the floor, unwilling to meet his eyes. The Battalion's gift made it possible for what was left of Rebecca to resurface every now and then, but bringing her into House Bloodscrawl would never be an option. He would have to work on accepting that.

He needed to let her go. He would. Just not now, not yet...

"Oh, that's very much on the table also...it just may require a more... shall we say... old fashioned approach..."

"Do you mean to conceive and carry a child?" He had heard rumors that the biots of House Li-Ves had artificial wombs and were capable of human-like reproduction, but he hadn't known if it was true. Looking at "Alice", he tried to imagine her going about her usual activities while pregnant. Seducing her prey, working as a cutthroat lawyer, or assassinating her enemies with a swollen belly. No, he could not imagine that. Nor could he see Nathan agreeing to create anything so helpless and vulnerable as a baby. Especially not after what happened with Laertia.

But perhaps his grandfather was a greatly changed man. Maybe he saw it as a chance to avoid making the same mistakes. Maybe they had special plans in place to ensure the child's safety until it was old enough to defend itself. Either way, their offspring probably wouldn't have a normal childhood. No one associated with any of their Houses did, though.

"And yes, It'll be conducted in The Atrisian style... The Sake Ceremony begins in ten minutes by the way. Nathan? We should go... and Percival, we do thank you for accepting the invitation. Please enjoy yourself. The ceremony is about to start."

Percival bowed to them both before they left to finish preparing for the ceremony. As he went to find a seat, he was stopped by the arrival of a familiar face.

His memories of Moya were fractured, being composed of the experiences of both Lancelot and an older version of himself. As Percival, he recalled that she had wanted to speak to him not long after Rebecca was absorbed, but he couldn't remember what they had talked about—or if the proposed meeting had ever actually taken place. As Lancelot, well... he had once seen her working as a waitress at a nightclub. Her uniform had been... interesting.

"Hello, Percival. It's been a long time. How are you?"

He took a moment to find the right word: "Tired." His brow furrowing, he asked, "Under what circumstances did we last meet?" He was hoping she could help him to remember what had happened that night on Khemost.

Nathan Bloodscrawl​

 

[Nathan Bloodscrawl]

"Well, first there was that meeting we had on Khemost, y'know? Where I tried to warn you that the Cult would try to convert her? How I...urged you..." she said carefully. "Emphatically...to start making preparations for resistance to the Cult, as they were about to dig their fingers in deeper." Moya didn't know about the Doves movement. The one where an echo of what House Io was supposed to be, had started. Then Other-You, the one called Lance--"

Moya stopped a moment, composing herself, fighting back tears that still came raw at the memory even now, and made the Android wake up screaming from Low Power Mode. Lance's tragic murder had never left her. She was estranged from almost all of House Io at this point, but the strange rules of family, of what constituted Family in this by now old gathering of Beings, each uniquely broken long ago from the consequences of having such terrible, destructive power at their fingertips, sticking even now, whether she was on Laertia's side or Nathan's. She wasn't related to any of them by blood and barely through association via Laertia, yet it still hurt. She still thought of them as her grandchildren, suffering because of the selfishness of her own adopted daughter, who had degenerated into a monster by the time she had met her again on Khemost.

"Lance...Lance 1 died. And Lance 2..."

Moya couldn't even really finish where Lance 2 was concerned. It made her sick, genuinely sick, to think about it.

"We spent that night going after the bastards who did it. You, me, and--"

Moya tensed, a subtle note shifting in the Force. It seemed one other person had accepted Nathan's invitation.

"Countess. Arianna. Belasko." came the crisp, Naboo accented voice of a blonde woman dressed in a somewhat revealing Black Gown, sauntering in from the landing pad on the pre-arranged shuttle.

Everyone stared. Arianna smiled, flesh on her face shuddering a bit as she walked into the grand room.

"I swear, you look like you've all seen a ghost! Arianna chuckled pleasantly in that oh-so-cosmopolitan manner of hers as she glided seemingly over to Moya, who seemed stunned to see her, of all people, here.

"Moya. Percival." Arianna said warmly and sincerely to her Grandson while one of the hot vampire Biots in the distance ran the hell off to find Nathan, only to find that with the wedding ceremony about to start, access was now restricted. He wouldn't find out she was here until he saw her.

"Such a pleasure, of course, to run into you again..." Arianna said to Moya.

"Why did you come? And how did you find out?"

Arianna glowered. "If only these dear Doves my darling Grandson associates with were aware of just how much magic I cast daily to hide them from the Cultists...as for why..."

"... can't I just see an old friend off?"

Moya, knowing full well by this point that the Nathan had never even interacted with this version of Arianna, realized either the Force Spawn was feeding into the real Arianna's memories and thus being guided by them to the degree she simply couldn't help but obey the Fake Persona's feelings, which were VERY real, even if nothing else about her was, or the Force Spawn underneath Arianna's face was here due to her association with Nathan as the one originally sent forward in time with Laertia, before Arianna had even been a factor, only raised an eyebrow and stepped forward, cupping her hands around a curious Arianna's face.

"My word are you using some sort of conditioner, your skin is so smooth--" Arianna started to observe before Moya cut her off.

"Vivian." Moya said firmly. "I know you're in there. Take the make up off."

Arianna's eyes rolled up in her head as her skin started shriveling and bubbling. One Psy-Pire nearby saw this, immediately found a bucket, and vomited, glanced over as the always horrific to witness transformation process concluded with Arianna's mind and flesh vanishing into that of a much more elderly woman with Brunette Hair , and vomited into the bucket again.

Vivian Duual, opened her eyes, shook her head in confusion a few moments.

"Thank you, I guess..." Vivian said, embarrassed. "I had originally planned to come here as myself...but it's getting harder and harder to leave Arianna..."

Vivian turned to Percival.

"Thel's fine by the way, I have someone watching him though...I just found out he is doing work for the Doves also...not sure how you want to handle that..." Vivian remarked just as the chimes signalling the wedding ceremony started to play.

"The ceremony is starting..." Moya realized...

Meanwhile...

The three biots all opened their eyes and beheld Nathan, their adopted Brother, and each instantly felt a type of sibling affection light up across their artificial minds.

"Hello Nathan..." The Biot that looked to be about his age said, stepping down from the platform she had previously been inactive on. "My name is Melissa. Most balanced of your Sisters."

"Hello..." Nathan trailed stoically, studying her friendly face.

"I was programmed with the Knowledge that you're always grumpy."

"I prefer the term taciturn, but you do you." Nathan responded politely, already weirded out by the whole experience as the next sister, still beautiful but looking slightly older than Melissa, stepped down with a figure seemingly carved from marble, with the matching gold tan skin tone and spun gold blond hair of Melissa.

"Hello Nathan. I'm Meleena. Fastest of your Sisters..." Meleena said warmly to Nathan, who studied her features, unsettled as affection that had seemingly been there a lifetime played out in her gaze.

"Here's to hoping for swift victories." Nathan responded with a polite nod.

Melinda, the slimmest and youngest looking of the matching blond sisters, stepped down, forming her arms into silvery blades, as her skill set could best be described as 'Slicey Slicey'.

"Hello Nathan. I'm Melinda. Stealthiest of your Sisters."

"May our enemies never know you are there until it's too late..." He replied. "You are all to be Bloodscrawls? Then know this. All Bloodscrawls are programmed from birth in a manner similar to Stormtrooper Indoctrination. We have three prime directives. Directive One: Serve The Public Trust. Directive Two: Protect The Innocent. Directive Three: Uphold The Will of The Force. You will abide these Directives...when possible." he added carefully.

"Of course." Melissa nodded.

Then she pressed her finger against his nose for a moment.

"Mister Grumpy..." she teased. The other sisters giggled.

Nathan's mouth tugged into a smile on one side for a split second before going stone faced again.

"That's one order of business down..." he said, relaxing. "Let's take care of another..."

Nathan reached into his pocket and pulled out a velvet covered box, opening it and pulling out a gold ring with a glowing red Bloodscrawl Kyber mounted on it.

"One ring to rule them all...." Melinda joked.

"The first three were good, the second three should have been cast to the Lava..." he muttered.

"But the Dragon was awesome! He had the awesome voice! Like a Sorcerer!" Meleena buzzed excitedly.

"Yeah, but the scheme would have been better served just focusing on what the Dragon was doing the whole film..." Melissa argued.

Nathan face palmed as he realized he had been drawn into a Pop Culture argument.

Then he looked up.

"Wait a minute...this is the first time you've ever been active! How could you all argue about that film if you've never seen it?!" Nathan asked in open bewilderment.

"Your Fiance was incredibly thorough in programming us." Meleena answered perkily.

Nathan shrugged. "...right..." he responded. "Alright, I'm heading to the ceremony. Welcome to Life." he spoke as he headed to his and Vera's ceremony area...

As he arrived in the ceremony altar, placed in the middle of a grand ballroom, he saw Vera waiting at the central, circular stone table with the Psy-Pire Priest in flowing purple robes pouring Sake into three different cups, one small, one medium, and one large.

Everyone was seated, and present. Nathan looked around, regarded everyone a moment, than sat across from Vera/Alice

The Priest held up his hands. He was an elderly fellow, with lots of wrinkles and graying hair, and spoke with a wizened, calm, and fatherly voice the whole way, which simply served to make what he actually said all the more bizarre.

"In any other context, on any other day, this gathering of Vampires, Vampire Mad Scientists, Vampire Robots that look like gorgeous supermodels, Super Powered Robots built specifically to straight up Merc people with naturally occurring super powers, deadly shapeshifters , and a filthy rich teleporter Death Mage with super strength would qualify as an outright convention of homicidal supervillains along with their full retinue of violent minions in at least twelve systems, and be responded to logically and with the full reasonable force expected to counter such a sinister gathering...but today we come here not to plot to take over the universe, or how to get our face on the credits people use, or building yet another Death Ray to be fired from a suitable Asteroid or Planetoid at a target of our convenience, which would absolutely justify such a response...but for a noble, lovely purpose. One of the oldest. Marriage."

"I gotta admit, that's a hell of an opening..." Nathan said under his breath.

"In one corner, we have Nathan Bloodscrawl, a man who literally can't take the hint even after getting Merc'd by a Sith to stay dead. In the Other corner, a Lawyer who has more skeletons in her closet than a cemetery or a Coruscant Politician who also didn't take the hint after she got Merc'd by a Mandalorian on Eshan many years prior to this day. It was a match made for Horror Film Anthologies and this observation is coming from a freaking vampire." The Priest emphasized stoically.

"After much gore and action film sequences, these two found each other under hostile circumstances, and almost Merc'd each other in their first meeting. Alas, over time, Game eventually recognized and respected Game, and the fact that he is absolutely jacked and she looks like a Pin-up Model most times certainly doesn't hurt this paring."

"PREACH IT!" one of the Supermodel like Biots in the back shouted in approval.

"You're letting us get roasted at our own wedding?" Nathan asked Alice very quietly.

"It'll keep us grounded going forward. Let him finish..." she replied back.

"A union like this is gonna be tumultuous, rocky AF. But if these two sorry excuses for Sentients, who it seems can't sneeze half the time without leaving a trail of dead behind them, can find hope and purpose in this Union of their absolute trainwreck Souls, and more to the point, believe that good for others in the Galaxy can be accomplished because of it, then I say these two deserve at least a shot to see if what they hope for turns out to be correct. There are many monsters in this Galaxy of ours. Hiding behind faces of respectability and elegance--"

(Cutaway to Arianna Belasko sitting amongst the guests)

"--or behind facades of idealism and nobility, long rotted away on closer examination, selective in their favoritism, which only highlights their cruelty to others..."

(Cutaway to The Battalion in a dungeon munching on chips next to a cage of captured Knights)

"...and more tragic still, those who had the potential to be more than monsters, but decided they liked being monsters more than they liked being people..."

(Cutaway to The Parliament practicing visceromancy in a dungeon)

"and most tragic of all, those who realized, at long last, the depth of their monstrous natures, and never able to undo the harm they have caused despite desperately wanting to, and being cursed with that awareness as they labor in vain to be remembered as more than abominations forged by their own choices--"

(Cutaway to Syd Celsius huddled up in a corner in her old Star Courier, crippled by her worst memories and the relentless hatred she feels from Nathan towards her, shaking violently.)

"But in spite of a Galaxy filled with such monsters, where everyone in this very wedding could be considered some form of monster, including the man speaking to you all, we come here because this teleporting Death Mage and this stab happy She-Beast want this to be a first step, on a path to being more than just another monster with too much power and not enough responsibility--"

(Cutaway to virtually my entire character roster)

"They want to hope. To hope that they can be more than what circumstances or their pasts say they should be, or their pasts say they should think like." The Priest said. "The chance that this ends in some sort of deadly dramatic shootout or sword duel is high. Too high, most would say. And that's likely what many even in this very room are thinking."

"As monsters, Hope seems an Alien concept. Why should we believe in it? What gives such a fleeting, ephemeral concept such weight in matters like this? Because some of us, in our heart of hearts, would so desperately like to be those people who retreat from us in fear. Some of us would give up much to become the ones who do not find themselves in bizarre rivalries with Violent people just as neurotic as they are. Just as obsessed with whatever a monster obsesses over in the dead of night..."

(Cutaway to Westenra and Moya shifting uncomfortably in their seats)

"But the universe let's us exist, for whatever reason or another. And I believe it let's us exist for moments such as this. To remind us that even if we can never succeed fully in overcoming our all too common tendency to live up to our description, whether it is a description we imposed on ourselves or that others imposed on us because we proved their fears correct...we can at least try to take that road that seems impossible for us to even divert to, let alone walk for any period of time..."

(Cutaway of Thel practicing marksmanship in Forrwirrmeni High School on Khemost under the watchful mechanical eye of David The Nuetralizer)

"But even if these two fail, even if their grand experiment in walking together as Husband and Wife ends in blood and tears, perhaps other monsters, who may yet cling to hope of going beyond their nature, might learn lessons from such failings, and perhaps, taken by that hope, develop the ambition to succeed where these two might not be able to."

(Cutaway to Percival Io in the Audience)

"Is that not worth giving such a strange union a chance? Is that not worth risking the Trillion to one odds that this Marriage won't be a trashfire to end all trashfires, if success means we, in walking alongside them in their journey, in trying our best to be a family, any sort of family with them, have become just the teeniest, tiniest bit more decent for the effort, even if it ultimately fails? Love is not without risk. Pain will always be a part of it. But if both those things in conjunction spark the tiniest bit of hope in others, than such attempts like this are never in vain." The Priest emphasized, having everyone's undivided attention by the time he was done.

He turned to Nathan. "You got the ring, you filthy rich teleporting Death Mage or am I gonna have to stall for time and yap some more?"

There was no hiding Nathan's genuine grin at the question.

"My Grandfather would have liked you." he admitted quietly as he produced the ring. Alice held out her hand and he placed it on her wedding finger.

"Now, you two threats to Galactic Society, drink up. You're both gonna wanna get a bit sloshed before diving into a Venture like this. You're familiar with the order of drink in the San-San-Kudo?" he asked Nathan.

Nathan nodded. He raised the small cup when the Priest told him and stared at Alice.

"We may have tons of people who want to kill us, but that doesn't mean we have to be lonely in the process. Your enemies are my enemies. Those who threaten you die." Nathan said, reciting the traditional Clan Li-Ves Wedding Oath expected of The Husband.

The smallest cup represented the past, their Ancestors. He took three very small sips, and passed it to Alice.

"Our Marriage is the Will of The Force, as shall our deaths together also be." Alice responded in the traditional manner of a woman marrying into House Bloodscrawl in ages past.

The Medium sized cup represented their desire for one another.

"When we first met, I almost strangled you. And then later on you strangled me right back, and we ended up understanding each other better for some strange reason a classically trained psychologist would likely have a field day over.
I'm not sure how exactly that ties into marriage vows. I'm just noting it for comedic purposes..." Nathan admitted, causing Moya, one of the Psy-Pires in the back, and Arianna to facepalm in exasperation before he followed up with his next words.

"...but I do vow that you will be the only woman in my life. And I do vow to do my best to help us both be different from what we started out as." he added, taking three sips and handing it to her.

"Hope you thought something up, She-Beast." The Priest muttered wryly.

"I never understood the point of an Alpha Male before I met you..." Alice admitted. "I see your heart on your face in the way only I can see it, and and I want that heart, stone and filled with bitter ashes for myself, even if it would destroy me. I forsake all notions of any other as a lover. Your children shall be my children, your sorrow, my lament, your victories, my delights. Your enemies, my victims..." she vowed, taking three sips and setting the cup aside.

Then came the largest cup, representing their hope for the future together.

Nathan held the cup out ritually.

"After the fall of Castle Bloodscrawl, I sneered at notions of hope until I was a grown man. I found Hope again. But as some are aware...that was taken from me. And then I died."

Nathan looked at the audience.

"I doubt that I can ever be thought of as a good person. And yet...and yet.."

He paused, trying to collect his thoughts.

"I want to be, even if no one acknowledges it..." Nathan said. "When I came back to life...I was a reminder of the bad old days. A walking, talking scar from the Gulag Era. I had little difference from a ghost haunting a House... except the House was the Galaxy. I had no concept of hope...and didn't want it again, after what I had suffered." he admitted. "But as time went on...I began, slowly, to realize being a ghost was not going to overcome what was in front of me. That someone without Hope is someone worse than simply dead. Someone without Hope doesn't see the point in not being like their enemies."

(Cutaway to Laertia Io going completely insane at Rhand and shooting down the Maw Worldship.)

"I will not insult your intelligence by saying the hate has left me. It's as intense as ever where they are concerned. I want them destroyed. Not just for what they have done to me, but to many others."

(Cutaway of The Deluge conducting heinous rituals.)

"The pain they have inflicted certainly warrants that. But if I do nothing but destroy and slay, if I try to build nothing, serve no one but my own self centered desires, adhering to the skeletons of old beliefs more out of rote than sincerity, than how is my path any different from the one any Cultist walks? What would be the point in me approaching this Android, who I would have surely slain in days of old?"

He finally turned to Alice.

"You see certain things in my face. I see it in yours also. You too, have come to the realization as I did, that we could go no further as we were previously." he spoke. "That Destruction and Death had whispered the last of their rotted secrets to us. That we are, and always have been, our own worst enemy...just like everyone else here is their own worst enemy. That was her secret, you know. The real reason Phyre herself was considered such a threat by the rest of us in the Plague Era, more than the massacres she initiated, was her uncanny ability to sense the moral weaknesses in others at critical points, and tug repeatedly at the loose ends until the whole ball of string was undone."

(Cutaway of multiple scenes of The Amalgam seducing Laertia)

"Who needs a Darth Phyre, ultimately, when the tiniest choice in us, can cause an avalanche of tragedy and death worse than any inferno she ever started at her absolute worst?" He questioned openly.

(Cutaway of Percival fatally infecting Galahad with Alpha Red)

"What do I hope for? I hope for a future where our strengths change one another for the better, and helps keep our weaknesses in check. I hope for a day where I can look in the mirror and be at peace with what I am, and what I have always been. I hope for a Marriage that will make us both happy, and both better than the monsters we are fighting, whether they are real, or in ourselves."

Moya's mouth hung open in her seat.

"Did he just make all that up on the fly?" she whispered in amazement as he took three sips and passed it to Alice.

Alice turned her red headed self to the Audience.

"For a long time, I was little different from the Monsters he and I and the rest of our allies in this room now fight. In some ways, in a lot of ways, little has changed in me. I still love the thrill of battle, of victory." She admitted. "But Nathan speaks true regardless...I had become aware of limitations in my cognitive capacity. A Capacity that could not be expanded without external assistance. An assistance no manner of upgrade to my body, whether genetic or cybernetic, could achieve. It is a form of assistance that requires a person. A Person who has things that you have, on some level, always been curious over, but have never been able to grasp, no matter how often you reach out for it. Do I deserve death? More than likely. I have hurt innocent people in the past. I've killed them. And I enjoyed it. And my family knows that about me. I know that about myself."

Her eyes, blue and piercing and cold, swept the crowd.

"Just as I know now that I am...starting, at least,...to understand that such an existence is ultimately limiting. If you've hurt one good person, or what my husband describes as good, you've hurt them all. And you can never take it back. And what would an apology do? What does a verbal expression of remorse count for? I'm not even truly sure I'm capable of genuinely experiencing such a thing in my bloody existence. Guilty? Not Guilty? The blood of either, I have found, tastes the same. Digests in my stomach all the same."

She looked at Nathan.

"But meeting you, it's made me aware, more than ever, of how limited, how small my thought process has been. It's made me want to understand, at least. To want to try. Because I have seen the effects of stepping back and not lifting a finger. Of just going about my own petty wants and savagery. I've...felt it..." she clarified, glancing at her sister Westenra for a split second.

"Feeling it is different. Feeling it up close, and personal, in a way that sticks with you when the faces of all the others you've hurt and never given a care about run together like water...maybe it's a self centered reason to change, to be different...but I would not have been willing to tie my fate to this man next to me had I not experienced even that self centered impulse. That moment of reflection. What do I hope for? I hope one day, I can finally understand, fully, whatever fulfilment Nathan and those like him get in trying to stand for something more than themselves. I want to be better than his enemies. I want to be...worthy...of the hope he has in reaching out to me, of all other monsters, to be his companion. I hope for a future where the marriage does work, and my nature alters just enough to truly internalize the viewpoint Nathan is attempting to share with me. That we can be better than the things crawling around in the dark, waiting for the moment a person turns their back in order to strike. That even someone like me, someday, can become something better in spite of what we were created to do and be. My hope is, in spite of everything I am and have done, to end my journey, however it ends, as...somehow...a different person than what I started out as. As someone my Husband, my Daughter, My Mother, my...Sisters...can be proud to love."

Alice/Vera took three sips of the largest bowl and set it down.

"By the authority invested in me by Clan Li-Ves and The Marriage Authorities on Atrisia, and the powers of the Force, I now pronounce you, Death Mage and She-Beast." The Priest said. "Force help you poor bastards. You can kiss now."

Alice and Nathan approached and kissed one another, and the audience began clapping.

Husband and Wife then turned to the Audience.

"Let's party!" They shouted in unison, though Nathan felt his spine go icy as he spotted Arianna, having once more shifted away from Vivian, clapping in the Audience.

Ten minutes later...

All manner of gifts were brought out for the wedding guests, and recreation consisted of knife throwing, and shooting clay targets over the ocean. The cake was freaking massive, gargantuan, and double fudge chocolate. Nathan's new sisters were synchronizing their knife throws at special targets to entertain guests with their coordinative ability.

Nathan and Alice danced in the middle of the floor as Atrisian Pop (A-Pop, as it is locally known) played loudly on the speakers. Nathan was quietly freaking over Arianna's presence until Alice assured him in private that Arianna would never leave this place alive if she tried anything.

Nathan became lost in Alice's blue eyes as they danced. Alice explored every part of Nathan's gaze as they moved across the floor...

 

[Percival Io]

Moya still didn’t know about the Doves, and Percival wasn’t going to tell her. Part of the reason the movement had managed to be so effective was because of their strict secrecy. The fewer people who knew about them, the better.

"Then Other-You, the one called Lance—Lance... Lance 1 died. And Lance 2..."

“What’s left of Lancelot is in here with me,” Percival said emotionlessly. He raised a hand, and for a brief moment the look in his mismatched eyes changed, as though a different personality had assumed control. There was a twinkle in his green eye, a glimmer of mischief and mayhem, charming… and homicidal. His fingers twitched in a little wave, as though Lance were saying hello to Moya, before his arm dropped and there was only Percival once more. “Galahad has joined us as well.” And the Green Knight, too. “It is… strange, to exist as you do, with more than one voice in my head. But at least I am never alone.”

The conversation was cut short by the arrival of Countess Arianna Belasko. Percival bent at the waist in a polite bow—

"If only these dear Doves my darling Grandson associates with were aware of just how much magic I cast daily to hide them from the Cultists..."

He stiffened, raising his head to stare icily at her. Moya acted swiftly, ordering her to ditch her disguise. The Countess melted away, replaced by the older, more common face and body of Vivian Duual.

“I suppose I should thank you,” Percival muttered. His cold glare did not change. He knew Vivian was the one truly in control, and he couldn’t help but blame her for not doing more to prevent things from going so wrong. Then again, they all shared the blame. Pointing fingers was a waste of time.

Only the mention of Thel forced Percival’s expression to change, softening to a barely perceptible degree. A choice would soon be upon the Chaplain. Either he could bring Thel into the fold, raising him to fight the Cult and ultimately turn against his own mother… or he could get the boy out while it was still a possibility. Give him a chance at a normal life…

The ceremony was starting. Percival had nearly forgotten that they were all gathered there for a wedding. He followed the others into the ballroom, where the union was to be presided over by a Psy-Pire priest…

Percival listened to Nathan and Alice’s lengthy vows in stoic silence. They made vague references to him, House Io, and everyone else even vaguely connected to them. He found some meaning in their words, though mostly it just filled him with greater resolve. The Cult must be destroyed.

Once the ceremony was completed, the party began. Percival presented his gift to the couple: a mysterious ancient book. Then, unless someone invited him to dance or some other activity, he would quietly depart.

Nathan Bloodscrawl​