Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Conferences were never perfect. That they can run as smoothly as they do is impressive, all things considered. But there were always a few hiccups here and there.

Annaiette frustratingly found herself at a “here and there” sort of hiccup, where she had gone looking for a panel room, only to find signs which did not adequately explain how one should get from A to B in this horror maze of escalators. And eventually she did finally find her way to the right room—which was, despite its size and the fact that it was one of the main event halls, very unhelpfully marked with signs printed on regular printer paper because someone had forgotten the real signs—though by now she was just on time which meant she may as well be late. And so, in lieu of shuffling into the room tired and hungry, she decided to partake in the coffee and snacks that had been set up just outside.

A panel called “Optimizing Software Design for Cloud-based Container Infrastructure” was certainly one that she would need her brain to be functioning at least at half capacity and so she thanked the gods for whoever had first decided that conferences ought to have coffee and snacks for attendees at different points in the day. This much activity before noon never went well for her, and she hadn’t been able to get something to eat on the way from the hotel due to the massive throngs of people who had the same idea.

She let out an uncontrollable yawn just as she was pumping coffee from the dispenser.

“I agree with you,” came an amused voice just as her yawn died away. “Never was a morning person, myself.”

The voice belonged to the person on the other side of the table: a tall, brown-haired man with a curious streak of white in his bangs, who seemed similarly weary of being conscious prior to lunch time. The way he was puzzling over the snacks seemed oddly theatrical despite his obvious tiredness, and Annaiette internally wondered if she ought to hurry away in case she was opening herself up to unwanted weirdness. Still, he seemed more interested in food than in her and she wasn’t getting a bad vibe off him, so she cautiously laughed in response.

“Not a morning person, huh?” she said. “Are you here for that cloud infrastructure panel?”

He laughed—or rather, smirked as his shoulders moved in a silent laugh—and nodded. “Indeed. I do dislike that it’s so early, nor did I have time to get a decent cup of coffee prior,” he said with a slight grumble. “And so one must take matters into one’s own hands.”

“Well, we’re already late so what’s a few more minutes to get breakfast, right?” she laughed. She plucked a bagel and a small plate of very appealing grapes from the table with a grin. “I’m sure what’s-his-face won’t mind.”

“I like how you think,” he replied, his smirk growing slightly wider. “I’m sure what’s-his-face appreciates those with their priorities in order.”

It seemed that Annaiette managed to make one of those five-minute-long friendships that she often made during these conferences since he patiently waited for her to stuff napkins into her pocket—when her food and coffee and napkins for the inevitable mess were in order, they walked together to the panel room door.

“After you,” he said as he pulled the door open. She smiled gratefully and thanked him as she stepped into the room.

It seemed the panel hadn’t actually started yet despite the fact that they were five minutes late by now. In fact, an anxious MC stood on the stage, drumming his fingers on the edge of the lectern as he watched the backstage entrance for the arrival of the absent speaker.

“Oh, I suppose it worked out in the end,” Annaiette laughed. Her new friend, who was lazily casting his eyes over the crowd, nodded in agreement.

“It certainly did,” he said. He turned to her and smiled, and she supposed this new friend was about to take his leave of her. “It was a pleasure commiserating…?” He trailed off expectantly.

“Annaiette,” she replied with a smile.

“It was a pleasure, Annaiette. I do hope you manage to get some rest,” he said.

And before she could ask his name in return, he sauntered off down the center aisle with a nonchalant wave of his hand. She was just in the middle of wondering if he was the sort of person who always looked for the closest seat he could find, until the MC caught sight of him and gestured in both relief and excitement.

“And there he is!” the MC exclaimed.

Annaiette’s eyes widened in disbelief as that man climbed the steps to the stage.

“Everyone please give a warm welcome to Solus Galvus!”

She felt her cheeks beginning to burn in embarrassment.

     She called him what’s-his-face right to his face…!

     But who in the hells is late to his own godsdamned panel?!

“Pray forgive my tardiness. I’m not a morning person, you see,” said Solus into the mic as he took the MC's place at the lectern. He held his coffee cup up and wiggled it, and the crowd let out an appreciative laugh. All Annaiette wanted to do, though, was either punch him or crawl into a hole—or both.

“Let’s get started then, shall we? I suppose some background about me is in order, so for those of you who may not know me…”

And she swore that his eyes briefly glanced directly at her.

While Solus’ panel was fascinating, the longer Annaiette listened, the more disappointment she felt. She’d decided on this panel to learn more about the topic (and got up early for it!), only to find that all his examples and use cases were for concurrent users on the order of millions, whereas her own particular case was unlikely to break 2000. He was, at the very least, an entertaining speaker; she worried at first that given his weary appearance, his talk would be similarly weary, but it turned out that this fear was quite unfounded. He was eloquent, yes, but not overwhelmingly nor incomprehensibly so, and he had a wry humor which kept the audience quite engaged.

Engaged or not, though, Annaiette found herself relating her earlier gaffe to her friends.

When the panel finished, she made her way out of the room still feeling embarrassed about her morning faux pas and found herself coping with said embarrassment by telling the story to any friends and coworkers that she came across, all of whom found it hilarious; even Estinien cracked a thin smile over it. She took solace in the fact that she had no reason to ever again cross paths with one of the most senior engineers at AnyderSoft, and actually had quite a good day at the other panels and meetups that she attended.

By the end of the afternoon, though, she was exhausted. She liked talking to people but an entire weekend’s worth of shaking hands and putting on her best Professional Annaiette face had taken its toll and she had fully intended on just having a drink at her hotel bar and going to bed. That was, of course, before Estinien texted her that he was going to an after party for the free drinks. She had an invite for that particular one but hadn’t intended on going, but if Estinien was going she supposed it would be fun. It was at an arcade, after all, so she could take the free food and drink and then find some games to play.

But of course, since she hadn’t seen him in a few months, she’d quickly forgotten that Estinien was Estinien; they made it inside and got a drink and plate of food each, but as soon as her back was turned, she found that he’d completely disappeared.

“I don’t know what I expected,” she muttered to herself as she went to find a (relatively) quiet corner in the venue to eat her food.

She had a good time people-watching as she ate. It was always entertaining to see the ways that these professionals unraveled at these sorts of parties. There were different clusters of people filling the arcade: the quiet ones in the shadows like her, who only wished to eat and drink, and the raucous younger ones posturing at each other and somehow talking entirely too loudly even over the din of the arcade, and the delightful older ones who got a bit of alcohol into them and were happily reclaiming a moment their younger years by challenging each other to games. There were also the ones that made Annaiette squint disapprovingly—those people who could not turn off their networking selves and instead continued insufferably and very obviously shmoozing, whether or not their victims were receptive.

But there was no hiding forever at an after party.

“Annaiette! There you are!” came a voice as she was waiting in line for another cocktail.

She let out a breath of relief when she found that it was only Moenbryda and Urianger that had gotten in line behind her. “Hey! Haven’t seen you all week!” said Annaiette, grinning. “Did you have a good time?”

“Can’t complain!” Moenbryda said, her grin matching Annaiette’s. “There was at least one workshop that was worth my while. Yourself?”

The time in line passed quickly with Moenbryda and Urianger, who hadn’t actually attended the conference and had tagged along with Moenbryda in order to make a small vacation out of the conference trip. It wasn’t long until the three of them perhaps had a drink or two too many (the themed event cocktails were delicious and stronger than expected), and Annaiette found herself with a nice buzz which was made even nicer because she had paid for none of it. A handful of friends and acquaintances found the trio as they chatted at a standing table, and the alcohol made them perhaps a little too enthusiastic about Ysayle and her recently-dyed vivid blue hair.

When no more friends appeared, they took to the arcade floor with the quest to find the most over-the-top game they could. Upon realizing there was a dragoon simulator game, Annaiette found herself instantly fixated on playing it because she’d get to hit a fake dragon with a padded spear, and though the line for it was long, Moenbryda found her fervent, half-drunken desire to hit things hilarious and insisted that they wait to give it a try. Fortunately, the game was within view of a cluster of dance and rhythm games, and they entertained themselves by watching middle-aged engineers trying their very best at the dance games and having the time of their lives.

Her turn finally came to hit the dragon, and by the Twelve did she hit that dragon. An involuntary, almost instinctive battle cry left her mouth as she did so, and it left Moenbryda howling with laughter and Urianger visibly grinning. She, too, was doubled over in laughter and completely forgot to look at her score, and by the time she realized this the next person had already started their game.

“I’m going to the restroom,” said Annaiette when she straightened up and found herself perhaps a bit too wobbly and hazy—a splash of water to the face probably wouldn’t go amiss.

“Sounds good. We’re going to look at the UFO catchers, so meet us there!” Moenbryda gestured to the long row of UFO catchers filled with all manner of prizes which they will likely never win.

Annaiette nodded and wove through the crowd to the restrooms in the quieter back area of the arcade, where the games looked much, much older and were considerably less flashy. Once she found the bathroom — a task slightly more difficult than she would have liked for a couple reasons — she slipped around the privacy wall obscuring the door and found something that made her immediately stop in her tracks.

“Oh, wrong side,” she murmured to herself.

“No, no, you’re in the right place,” said a familiar voice. “My apologies.”

She squinted at the man on his phone in the shadows and found—to her absolute horror—that it was somehow—somehow—none other than Solus Galvus idling in the corner, his face illuminated by the light of his phone. She desperately hoped that he had seen enough people during the day to have forgotten her face.

“Ah, you’re the woman from this morning,” he said as he put his phone into his pocket and straightened up. “Annaiette, was it?”

No such luck.

She wanted to crawl into a hole—or rather, she would have wanted to, if not for the alcohol and the residual exhilaration of hitting a fake dragon. She was ready to demand answers of this man.

“What are you doing here?!” spilled out of her mouth, with surprise and confusion and reproach coloring her voice. Solus let out a weary, mildly disgruntled sigh before shrugging in resignation with the hint of a smirk on his lips.

“Hiding. I’ve grown tired of the sycophants out there. Shameless, the lot of them,” he said wryly.

This, however, did not exactly answer her question.

“But what in the hells are you doing here? In the corner by the restroom?!”

“Would you believe that nobody has come to use the restroom in—” He glanced at his watch. “—about half a bell.”

“What?” was all Annaiette could say. Solus let out a laugh.

“How many women did you see out there?” he asked.

She squinted as she racked her brain, but could only come up with herself, Moenbryda, and Ysayle. She was sure there were more...there had to be more...

“As regrettable as it is, it does afford me the chance to hide,” said Solus. “I’d go back to the hotel, but I’ve colleagues here who require some level of...supervision.” His mouth slowly turned into a frown as he spoke.

Before Annaiette realized what she was doing, she rapped his arm with the back of her hand. “And what if people get the wrong idea about old what’s-his-face hiding back here?”

Both she and Solus were surprised by this and in a horrifying moment of clarity in the midst of her drunken brain, she wondered if she might have just offended a man who could easily ruin her career. But to her great relief, his lips spread into an amused smile and he let out a laugh.

“Old what’s-his-face has taken the point, and will be on his way,” he chuckled, though she got the distinct impression that he couldn’t care less what people thought of him. He made to step past her to leave, but not before pulling a card holder from his pocket and extending a card to her. Her brain couldn’t quite process this and it took her a moment to stop blankly staring at at the card. She marveled at the feel of it in her fingers—his business card felt so so weighty and so premium and was tastefully embossed with the AnyderSoft logo.

It took her altogether too long to realize that he was waiting to receive one in return. Her own business card was woefully inferior to the beautiful thing he had given her, and she felt some amount of embarrassment in handing him a card that she had printed at an office supply store a few days prior because the ones her company had given her were misprinted with “Office Manager” as her position. Her last-minute cards weren’t even printed on glossy paper—let alone embossed.

He took a moment to read it, and she noticed his eyebrows rise slightly in either interest or disgust, she couldn’t tell which.

“Ah, you work for Leve. Fascinating startup—I should like to hear about it sometime,” he said, smiling as he stowed the card in the holder and pocketed it. He didn’t sound disingenuous, but Annaiette couldn’t help but wonder if he was lying to be polite…

“Well. You’ve got my email on that card, so ask as you like,” Annaiette said, gesturing vaguely at nothing in particular.

Solus nodded once before stepping past her to take his leave. “I must be off. I think I’ve left my colleagues alone for long enough,” he said. As he disappeared around the privacy wall, she thought she heard him muttering, “Lahabrea is probably still playing the dancing game…”

And as she turned to enter the restroom, she had a curious but passing thought:

     ...why does that sound so familiar?

Chapter Text

The trip to the Ishgard Zoo was perhaps half the reason why Annaiette had been excited to attend the tech conference.

With the conference over with, she only had adorable animals awaiting her (and crowds and a flight home, she supposed, but she didn’t want to think about it). Her friends all had varying plans which did not involve the zoo, and so she was here alone—not that it bothered her at all, especially after spending so much time having to actually interact with others. Still, she’d made a decent effort to invite people and had even asked Estinien if he wanted to join, but only received a confusingly unnecessary message last night in lieu of an actual response. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for him to send her similarly unnecessary messages, so she simply shrugged it off and made a mental note to find out if he came back from Sohm Al alive.

And so here she was, leisurely winding her way through the Sea of Clouds section of the Ishgard Zoo. She spent a good amount of time staring at the dhalmels as she tried to make sense of why they made her so uncomfortable, before meandering to the paissa enclosure and wondering the selfsame thing. When she could glean no satisfactory answers from the unsettling eyes of the paissa, she continued to the sanuwa enclosure, where there was a sizable crowd gathered around a keeper giving a presentation as another keeper tossed hunks of meat at the eager scalekin.

It was a bit difficult to hear, though, as the crowd was noisy and the keeper’s little speaker was only so powerful; Annaiette found her attention wandering, and it was then that her eyes briefly fell upon a gaggle of what must have been attendees from the conference. They were dressed casually but there was something about the array of white trainers and slacks with shirts tucked into them that felt distinctly engineer-y. Their shirts were all matching—blue shirts bearing text she couldn’t make out from her position—which made it was obvious they were all there together for some sort of event. Someone with a clipboard was doing his damndest to coordinate them, but everyone in his group appeared to be some level of exasperated. She stifled a laugh at the sight before turning back to the sanuwa, briefly praying that those engineers would be able to have some semblance of fun today.

Annaiette found herself wandering into the Dravanian Forelands area and with this change in scenery, she thought it was high time for a snack and coffee. There was a free bench just in front of the expansive bear enclosure, so she parked herself there and eagerly rummaged through her backpack for her bag of dried persimmons and travel mug. It was quite pleasant to watch the bears while she ate—most looked wonderfully relaxed in the shade, and she liked the one having a hell of a time playing with a giant ball.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were following me.”

This voice gave her pause, and not a moment later, Solus Galvus leisurely took a seat on the other end of the bench.

The cheek of this man.

“I think I’m the one who should be saying that,” Annaiette said, raising her eyebrows in disbelief as he leaned back and crossed his legs. “Are you here alone?”

“Would that I were,” Solus replied with a wry laugh as he cast his gaze out toward the bears. “Our COO decided that despite our many years of service, we ought to take this as an opportunity for team-building. I, on the other hand, decided to take this as an opportunity to slip away.”

It appeared that Solus was wearing the same blue shirt worn by the exasperated engineers back at the sanuwa enclosure, and Annaiette could now see that the shirt was printed with the AnyderSoft logo and a stylish blurb that read “TEAMS, NOT HEROES!” He wasn’t, however, sporting white trainers and was instead wearing leather dress shoes—certainly not what she expected for a trip to the zoo. Had he perhaps forgotten to bring comfortable shoes to the conference?

“What sort of team-building do you even get done at a zoo?” she asked in amusement. “Does everyone rate and review the relative cuteness of the animals together? ‘Dhalmels, three out of ten. Gaelicats, eight out of ten.’”

“Truly the epitome of team synergy: animal cuteness ratings,” Solus said, smirking and giving her a sidelong glance. “I didn’t stick around long enough to find out if they agreed that dhalmels were a three.”

She laughed. He wasn’t the bad sort of company; his humor was amusing enough and for the moment he was not imposing too far upon her personal bubble. He seemed content to sit and watch the bears, and she got the strange feeling that he might have been wishing to be one of the bears lounging under the trees. She wouldn’t blame him were that the case.

After a glance at her bag of dried fruit, she extended it toward him.

“Want one?”

He glanced down at it in mild surprise and for a moment she thought he was about to turn his nose up at it, but after perhaps too long of a pause, he finally took one from the bag. “Quite generous of you, offering your food to someone who amounts to a stranger,” he said as he examined the dried persimmon. And between his words, she could clearly hear, “And what might you be expecting in return?”

Likely gauging whether she was one of those sycophants, but fortunately for him, she had little interest in working for a company as big as AnyderSoft.

“I’ve no idea what you might be implying,” Annaiette said, giving him a severe look and holding her hand out expectantly. “Give it back if it’s not to your liking.”

“Don’t you know it’s rude to take gifts back?” he said airily before taking a dramatic bite.

Annaiette snorted in amusement and couldn’t hold the stern look—she grinned, turning back to the bears as she took another persimmon from the bag. Solus didn’t speak again and they spent the next few minutes in silence as they ate, until Annaiette found her hunger for snacks sated.

“I’m going to keep walking,” she said as she put the fruit and coffee away and zipped her backpack up.

For a brief moment she wondered if she might regret it if she invited him to come along—he wasn’t leering at her nor was he being at all pushy or otherwise weird—and she could always make some excuse that she was being summoned by friends elsewhere in the zoo and hurry away.

She hoped she was not misplacing her faith in the decency of people.

“You’re welcome to come along if you like,” she said, getting to her feet and shouldering her bag. “Unless you need to get back to that very important team-building you’re missing out on.”

For a brief moment, surprise flashed across his face before a small look of interest replaced it. “Oh, I’m certain they will be able to team-build without the likes of me,” he said wryly as he got to his feet and put his hands in his pockets. “I may miss out on what wisdom the paissa might impart to them, but that is a risk I’m willing to take.”

“Not many would take such a risk,” Annaiette laughed as she began walking toward the bandersnatches. “How do you manage?”

“I shall have to glean wisdom from elsewhere. They do say that wisdom abounds in korpokkurs.” And though Annaiette was not looking at him, she could almost hear the smirk.

“They do, do they?”

“Most certainly.”

She snickered and didn’t reply—they’d just arrived at the bandersnatch enclosure so instead she busied herself with attempting to read the informational sign whilst children hopped excitedly around it. When she finally finished (or rather, when the children were herded away by their guardians and she could read without peering over them), she looked up in search of her temporary companion and found him some distance away, resting his elbows on the outer barrier and watching the lounging bandersnatches with a sort of lazy interest.

“You return unscathed,” he said when she stood beside him. He didn’t take his eyes off the beastkin but she could see that the corner of his mouth was upturned just slightly.

“Only just,” she replied with a laugh as she pulled her phone out to take a photo of the bandersnatches laying atop each other as they napped in the shade. “The sign says they’re supposed to be very stealthy. They are very stealthily napping.”

“Oh, I hadn’t realized there were even bandersnatches in there,” Solus said wryly.

“Mhmm. That’s how good they are.”

They continued in this way for a while—casual conversation interspersed with facetious remarks when they stopped at each new exhibit. He had little interest in reading the signs, least of all when they were swarmed by children, and so she would brave the crowd and then take some photos before finding wherever he had wandered off to. Every so often she found him glancing at notifications coming through on his watch, and at first he’d silently laughed but as time went on, there were enough of them for irritation to slowly appear on his face.

“Someone trying to get a hold of you?” Annaiette asked, raising her eyebrows when he swiped another notification away.

“My absence from team building has not gone unnoticed,” said Solus.

“Are you going back?”

“Not just yet. I’ll let him sweat for a little while longer,” he said, smirking. “I don’t know what he was thinking, scheduling team building right after the conference. Half the team is hungover.”

Annaiette couldn’t help but chuckle at this. “Maybe that’s the only way he could get you all together—at a conference and hungover. Less fight in you that way.”

“You may be on to something,” he said with a low laugh.

They continued on, and finally, the moment of truth was upon them: they’d entered a lush aviary with a small population of korpokkurs and dorpokkurs milling about.

“So what wisdom do the korpokkurs have to offer? Are you gleaning yet?” Annaiette asked with a grin as she tried to get a photo of them tossing their water droplets into the air.

“I believe the wisdom here is to stay hydrated and take baths.”

“That is very wise. Good thing we came here.”

But it seemed that whoever was trying to contact Solus was quite determined to do so. He finally pulled his phone out to reply to them and looked imminently ready to send an irate response, but suddenly froze as a look of realization came over him. His eyes slowly moved from the screen to her, and he held the phone up in his hand.

“Might you be willing to take a photo with me?” he asked.

Annaiette was not opposed, but she was certainly quite confused. “Sure, but why?”

“He is constantly on my case about not having friends,” said Solus distastefully as he tapped his phone and swapped it to the front-facing camera. “Stay there.”

There was hardly a moment for Annaiette to process the fact that he so casually spoke of not having friends before he held the camera up and positioned himself so that both she and the korpokkurs were visible behind him. She grinned and held up a hand in greeting and a moment later, there was the sound of a fake shutter snap.

“With any luck, he’ll stop bothering me for a short while,” Solus said, smirking as he sent the photo off.

He watched his phone for a few more moments as his smirk grew just a bit wider. “Well, that certainly shut him up. You have my thanks.”

“Glad to help—I think,” Annaiette replied in slight confusion as Solus pocketed his phone. She smiled and gestured vaguely down the aviary path. “Well, shall we? Unless you still need more korpokkur wisdom.”

“No, I believe the korpokkurs have dispensed their allotment of wisdom for today,” said Solus with a shrug.

The rest of the walk through the aviary was relatively uneventful apart from the small break they took to listen to a keeper’s presentation on colibri and lorikeets. It appeared that the selfie really did shut up whoever was bothering Solus because he didn’t receive any further notifications—a fact which he seemed exceedingly pleased about.

“Well, it’s almost closing time,” Annaiette said, peering at her phone as they exited the aviary building. “A bit sad we didn’t get much time to look at the frogs and snakes.”

“It simply gives you an excuse to visit Ishgard again,” he said matter-of-factly.

The buzz of her phone drew her attention, and she was pleasantly surprised to find that it was a text message from Aymeric.

“Apparently someone is here to pick me up for dinner,” Annaiette said with a laugh. “Are you going to find your AnyderSoft people?”

“No, I think I’ll go back to the hotel for a nap,” said Solus with a small chuckle as they began heading for the zoo exit.

“It’s nearly evening and you’re going to nap?” she laughed in disbelief.

“Our team dinner isn’t for a few hours. Ergo, naptime.”

“Is most of your team still here? In Ishgard, I mean.”

It took him a few moments to think on it. “We brought so many people with us that I can’t be certain apart from the C-levels...a handful of whom are here in the zoo.”

“Wait...are those C-levels involved in this team building thing?” Annaiette asked, wide-eyed.

“They were.”

Annaiette couldn’t stop the loud barks of laughter from leaving her throat, to which Solus’ lips turned up in a roguish grin.

“The COO and CTO were the ones nagging me to come back, in fact.”

“This is amazing,” Annaiette wheezed in an attempt to control her mirth. “Team building with executives?!”

“That’s what I said, but no, they thought we ought to do something together and just had to make it official company business.”

“Well, executives and all that, I suppose. But you aren’t one, right?”

“No, thankfully. They tried to make me one years ago, but that is far more responsibility than I care to have.”

It wasn’t long until they were outside the zoo, just in front of the ticketing area. “Thanks for walking around with me. It was fun,” she said brightly, holding out her hand.

“It was my pleasure,” he said, giving her hand a quick but firm shake. “Have a good flight home, whenever you do leave.”

“You too! And have a good nap,” Annaiette replied. She glanced toward the parking lot and nearly jumped when she found Estinien already waiting for her on his blood red motorcycle, an extra helmet waiting in the crook of his elbow. “It was great meeting you!” she said, giving him one last grin as she waved and trotted over to her waiting friend.

And because she knew it would supremely irritate Estinien—and as revenge for texting her at 3 AM— she pulled him into the tightest hug she could. Predictably, he grunted and squirmed, leaning as far back as he could without overbalancing on the bike.

“All right, all right, I’m sorry,” he said gruffly, and immediately she released him. He thrust the helmet at her before she could hug him again (not that she was going to), and she pulled the tie from her hair before shoving the helmet over her head.

“Thanks for coming to get me,” said Annaiette as she got on behind him.

“Was already passing through, so I may as well,” Estinien said as he started the motorcycle, which Annaiette knew was a lie because there was no way he would have gone all the way to Sohm Al and back with a spare helmet. “Hold on, then.”

And as he settled into his seat and revved the engine, Annaiette looked over her shoulder to see if Solus had wandered away yet; he hadn’t and was lazily watching her with his hands in his pockets.

They started moving just when she waved at him again, and before she faced forward to get a proper hold around Estinien’s waist, she thought she might have seen Solus give a small, muted wave in return.

Chapter Text

Annaiette had some regrets in life.

Her current regret was her decision to spend the entire weekend with her Ishgardian friends before flying home to Mor Dhona on the first flight of the work week. It was true that she had a wonderful weekend in Ishgard with friends both new and old, but the universe evidently wished to punish her for daring to indulge.

This was how she found herself at the Ishgard Airport at half six in the morning, sitting beside her gate as she frantically tried to figure out just why their production environment was in the process of taking a horrific shite.

She’d gotten a panicked call—a call—from Coultenet whilst she was waiting to get through security and learned that he’d been woken about a bell ago by the alarms which told him the production environment was in the process of taking a horrific shite. He was their head Ops person for a reason, but even he and Hoary Boulder combined couldn’t figure out just what had brought the live site down. Once she’d logged in, she found that she couldn’t blame them at all: despite her engineering team’s best efforts to log as thoroughly as possible, the logs she found were still inexplicable and confusing. Additionally, processes that should have existed didn’t, and ones that were generally reliable were churning and sputtering and spitting out incredibly unhelpful and confusing errors.

The flight had started boarding as she was just narrowing down the problem systems, and she ended up shuffling forward in line, laptop held up in one arm as she continued working with her face tinged red from mingled embarrassment and panic. Neither could she solve the problem before the flight attendants came by to tell the passengers to put their devices away. She spent a fraught twenty minutes combing her mind for everything she knew about the systems they’d set up, until finally the plane reached cruising altitude and they were allowed use of laptops again.

And because the entire live site was in some sort of hopefully-not-death throe, she begrudgingly paid the WiFi fee so she could continue debugging. However, the WiFi was just frustratingly slow enough to be absolutely useless for anything except messaging—she had to tamp down the overwhelming urge to yell obscenities at her laptop and began feverishly searching through source code for lack of anything more useful to do. Between her scrutiny of the source code and Coultenet’s moment-to-moment commentary via their messaging client, it was becoming clearer and clearer that some sort of connectivity issue was to blame, though one that—again—their logs failed to adequately describe.

The short flight to Mor Dhona had begun its descent before she could guide Coultenet through some things to try, leaving her to once more stew in her seat in frustration. It was as an eternity before the plane finally made its landing at the Mor Dhona airport, and was one further eternity as she waited for inexplicably slow people to gather their things and get off the bloody plane. After these two eternities it was her row’s turn to get off and in a flash she had grabbed her things and was out the gate, taking off for the exit as she hailed a ride with a rideshare service on her phone. With any luck, her ride would be there by the time she made it to the pickup area.

By now their work chat was exploding—most of their people had arrived at the office to find production down, and she was frantically trying to reply to both the chat channels and her emails in order to prevent people from doing things that would make the problem worse. Fortunately Y’shtola was of the same mind, which was one small relief. It was a short-lived one, though, because she soon received a call from Minfilia and Alphinaud both just as she found her ride at the pickup area. They didn’t have anything imminently useful to say and she spent a few agonizing minutes trying to allay their concerns.

When Annaiette finally arrived at the office, frazzled and still bearing her travel luggage since she’d gone straight there, she found it abuzz with a frenetic, anxious energy. She hastily made her way to the engineering corner, where Y’shtola and Coultenet were huddled around Moenbryda’s desk, Coultenet pointing at the screen with one hand and holding his hair away from his eyes with the other.

“Thank goodness you’re here,” said Coultenet in weary relief. “None of us can figure out what went wrong.”

She gave them the most reassuring smile she could despite the fact that she also hadn’t the slightest idea what had gone wrong.

“The issue is affecting all the microservices—some sort of unclear connectivity failure,” said Y’shtola, crossing her arms. “I’ve not been able to figure out why just yet. A bug in how we handled the networking, perhaps…”

They had only recently deployed the redesigned microservice architecture to the live environment, so Annaiette wondered if they were hitting some deep bug that they weren’t able to catch in their test environment.

“Right. Right right right,” said Annaiette as she dropped into her chair and logged in. “Let’s start from the beginning, then…”

The engineering and devops teams sat in silence, glassy-eyed and limp in their seats.

Annaiette slowly lay her face on her desk, shutting her eyes and taking a deep, deep breath.

“It wasn’t even our fault…” she murmured, her voice bordering on a sob.

The actual issue, it turned out, was a partial outage on the platform hosting their live site services. They had never accounted for a partial outage, which explained the inexplicable and very unhelpful logs. But even more frustrating was the fact that they only found out about it because Hoary Boulder had started combing the internet to see if any other people were facing the same issues; eventually he’d come across a thread on a social media site where people were commiserating about the selfsame problem. What followed was the horrifying realization that their host hadn’t updated their uptime status page for bells—it was the first thing that Coultenet had checked when he was woken by the alarms, but the status page was only updated a half hour before the issue was actually resolved.

It had taken Annaiette and team a couple of bells to properly restart all the services and repair the partial corruption in their production databases. That partial corruption had been the veritable icing on the awful cake, but luckily Moenbryda had worked her magic which allowed them to revert the services to a working state with minimal headache.

And now all of them were ready to log out and perhaps have an ale or three.

“They will be receiving a call from me,” Y’shtola said, her voice heavy with irritation and disdain. “If they think it’s acceptable to not update their service status page and to not have the decency to send their customers some sort of notification about a partial cluster outage…”

“Maybe we really should have gone AnyderSoft instead,” Coultenet sighed, his voice slightly muffled. Annaiette’s eyes were still closed but it was clear that his face was in his hands.

“Still too expensive…” Annaiette muttered wearily.

A shared, collective sigh.

“What happened to you lot?”

The sound of the familiar, warm voice roused Annaiette from her face-desking, and she found Ardbert and Tataru watching them with mingled confusion and pity.

“It’s been a very long and very pointless day,” laughed Moenbryda, with a hint of resentment in her voice. “Finished with your route, then?”

“My last delivery for today was a parcel for Tataru,” Ardbert said, grinning. He jabbed his thumb over his shoulder toward the front door. “You lot look like you could use a hug from Seto—he’ll not complain.”

“Seto!” Annaiette exclaimed, standing so hastily that her thigh caught painfully on the edge of her desk.

And a minute later with her thigh throbbing in pain, she was outside and sinking into the warmth of Seto’s feathers with her arms around his neck.

Their office was often Ardbert’s last stop on his usual delivery route, and when he had the time, he often stayed a while to chat. A bad day could always be softened with time petting and hugging Ardbert’s faithful amaro, and Seto was always quite pleased by the attention they lavished upon him. Seto wasn’t always with him, though—there were days where Ardbert drove a truck because he had too many packages for one amaro to reasonably carry, but the days where he had time to chat were often days where the delivery load was light enough for Seto to carry.

Seto crooned appreciatively as Annaiette, Moenbryda, and Tataru gently pet him.

“Want to go out for drinks with us in a bit?” Annaiette heard Moenbryda ask.

“Ah, afraid I can’t. Lamitt’s shift at the hospital is almost over and I said I’d pick her up today. Next time!”

Annaiette felt some amount of guilt (only some) about snuggling with Seto and all but ignoring Ardbert, but Moenbryda and Hoary Boulder were more than chatty enough to make up for it. She’d been up since before dawn, after all, and if Ardbert had told her she could nap with Seto, she’d have been fast asleep in a heartbeat.

But all too soon, the dreaded moment was upon her.

“I’d best be going, then,” said Ardbert brightly. “Hey, you asleep, Annaiette?”

She let out a drawn-out whine and nuzzled her face into Seto’s neck for a moment longer before woefully pulling herself away and taking a few steps back. “See you next time,” she said to to the both of them as Ardbert deftly hopped onto Seto’s back and clipped his safety harness in. “Tell Lamitt I said hi!”

“‘Course! Have a good one!”

Her hair fluttered in the flurry of wind as Seto and Ardbert took to the sky, and she wistfully watched them soar away until they were obscured by the surrounding buildings.

“So!” Moenbryda said, clapping her hands together with a grin. “Drinks, then? I hardly think we’re going to get any real work done today.”

It was just barely four in the afternoon by now—the earliest that Annaiette could reasonably consider having drinks if she didn’t want to become entirely useless at work. However, after a day of airports and staring into logs and cleaning up messes that weren’t even their fault, there was no way she’d do anything more than furiously file work items to properly handle and log partial outages.

And this was how they found themselves at the pub down the street with an ale each and food on the way.

“Gods, what an awful start to the week,” Annaiette groaned as she leaned back in her chair and ran her fingers through her hair. Coultenet sighed, resting his elbows on the table and rubbing his face.

“I feel ridiculous for calling you about it now,” he muttered into his hands. “Their status page was the first thing I checked…”

Moenbryda let out a laugh. “We’ve already established that it’s their fault and not ours, so I think the blame lies squarely with them that you called Annaiette just before she got on an airplane and caused her no end of stress.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Annaiette laughed, patting Coultenet on the shoulder as he sank down until his forehead touched the table. “Honestly, I’m glad it wasn’t something worse.”

“If it had been a bug on our part, then I’d be rewriting the entire thing out of shame,” said Y’shtola with a frown. Annaiette laughed, but she knew Y’shtola was serious and she knew if it had been a bug on their part, she would be spending quite a bit of time convincing Y’shtola to not rewrite the entire thing and instead settle for the good enough fix.

“So how was the rest of your weekend in Ishgard?” asked Moenbryda. “You went to the zoo, right? Sorry we couldn’t come along.”

“Oh, it’s fine!” Annaiette said, waving Moenbryda’s apology away. But she quickly put her hand to the table and leaned in as the memory of her trip to the zoo came flooding back. “You’ll not believe what happened—I’m still wondering if it happened myself. Remember when I was losing my mind for an entire day because I’d called Solus Galvus ‘what’s his face’ to his face?”

“I think everyone remembers,” Hoary Boulder laughed, to which she grinned and lightly rapped his arm with her knuckles.

“I was just minding my own business at the zoo and he turns up while I’m having a snack,” she continued. “He was hiding from some AnyderSoft team-building thing with the executives.”

Her friends, understandably, appeared incredibly confused.

“Wait. Team building? With executives?” Moenbryda said incredulously, arching an eyebrow. Annaiette nodded in agreement before letting out another laugh.

“Right? Anyways, he remembered me from the day before and we ended up walking around together because he didn’t want to be at the team-building event. I suppose you can do that when you’re friends with the executives.”

“Weird as all hell, but sounds like a good time! Didn’t forget his name again, did you?” Hoary Boulder asked cheekily.

“Proud to say that I didn’t call him ‘what’s his face’ once,” Annaiette laughed before glancing back to Moenbryda. “So what did you and Urianger get up to?”

“Ah! We had tickets for that special exhibit at the art museum…”

Solus Galvus stared at his screen.

Chapter Text

As Time continued on its inexorable way, Solus Galvus found his own time to be in increasingly short supply. Gone were the days of locking himself in a room to work on code until that work was done; it had been years since he had personally touched any AnyderSoft code in any meaningful way. Now his days were full of meetings—they were meetings of all sorts across almost all the products that AnyderSoft now offered, but all generally boiled down to the following:

• Guide people in doing the right things
• Stop them from doing the wrong things
• Tell them how to fix it when they thought they knew better and mucked up things by doing exactly what he said not to do

So because this unending hell of meetings often left him with little time at his desk to actually do things—which, again, never included code work anymore—one day every other week he blocked out some time in his calendar to heavily discourage people from scheduling meetings during that time. Elidibus had suggested this to him some years ago when he’d been on the verge of burning out and having what would have been a fantastic breakdown, and he was quite pleased with the breathing room it afforded him.

Today, though, he would be afforded no such thing.

He had just opened his lunch, a simple sandwich he’d brought from home—something he never did except on these days so that he wouldn’t need to leave his office and risk people flagging him down in the halls—when there was a light knock on the door.

And before he could swallow his mouthful of sandwich and answer, the door swung open and an oncoming headache entered his office.

“Hythlodaeus, you know I block out these mornings,” Solus grumbled as his friend dropped into the chair in front of his desk with a cheerful, mischievous smile.

“I know, that’s how I knew you were here,” Hythlodaeus replied lightly. He was holding a bunch of grapes and took this time to pop one into his mouth.

He knew Hythlodaeus was here to cause trouble—he could feel it in the pit of his stomach.

“What do you want?” Solus asked, narrowing his eyes in suspicion. “Is it about the build farm additions you were asking for?” Hythlodaeus was certainly not here to talk about the build farm, but Solus asked just in case; he would much rather talk about the build farm than whatever it was Hythlodaeus was actually here to talk about.

The smile on Hythlodaeus’s face grew slightly wider.

“Oh no, we can talk about that at the meeting tomorrow,” he said. He leaned back in the chair and crossed his legs, and had the audacity to nestle in and make himself comfortable. “How are you doing, my friend?”

“I’m fine,” Solus said, his eyes narrowing further. “What do you want, Hythlodaeus?”

“I’m hurt,” said Hythlodaeus, wincing and putting a hand to his chest. “Can’t I come to see how my friend is doing?”

Solus rolled his eyes. “Out with it. What do you want?”

With their usual song and dance finished, Hythlodaeus straightened up as he pulled his phone out of his coat pocket. “I heard from a couple different sources—” He spoke slowly and didn’t look at Solus as he scrolled for something on his phone. “—that you, my dear friend, have been somewhat out of sorts.”

“Out of sorts? Who is saying that?” Solus asked, frowning.

“Only everyone,” Hythlodaeus laughed lightly. “Even Nabriales noticed.”

“Nabriales? The last time I spoke to him was last week, and that was for two minutes.”

Hythlodaeus seemed to have found what he was looking for—he looked up at him with a grin, but kept his phone held to his breast. “And how out of sorts you must have been for Nabriales to notice in two minutes,” he said, with the sort of irritating laugh that told Solus he was not going to like what came next. “I don’t suppose it has something to do with this, does it?”

Slowly, he held out his phone to show Solus the screen.

And on it was the selfie from the zoo—the selfsame one he had sent Elidibus to shut him up.

“Where did you get that?!” Solus demanded, and he confusingly found himself fighting to keep his face from burning.

“Elidibus sent it to me about a minute after he received it, asking who that Elezen was,” Hythlodaeus replied.

“What does she have to do with anything?” Solus asked, scowling. “She’s just someone I met at the conference who was willing to indulge me for a moment so I could confuse Elidibus.”

Hythlodaeus let out an appreciative laugh. “Oh, he was certainly confused, well done. I haven’t the slightest idea who she is, of course, although something did stand out to me,” he said, glancing back at the photo on his screen and cocking his head thoughtfully. “You look as though you might have actually enjoyed yourself at the zoo.”

A confusing feeling of vague, indistinct panic filled him.

“I fail to see the connection between the zoo selfie and Nabriales remarking that I was somehow out of sorts,” Solus said in a huff.

“That much is obvious, my friend.”

Solus narrowed his eyes again.

“Don’t tell me you’re implying what I think you are,” he said slowly, his voice low, incredulous. “I knew her for a half a day, Hythlodaeus.”

“And look how you enjoyed that half a day!” Hythlodaeus replied, grinning.

“Wh—how are you getting that from one selfie?”

“I’ve known you since we were children, lest you forget.” He paused a moment and looked almost sympathetic as the grin on his face softened. “And I also know that you have enjoyed precious little in your life as of late.”

It was true that he didn’t exactly enjoy many things these days and it was true that he had felt some measure of enjoyment at the zoo. But this moment of pause lasted for just that—one moment—and it was quickly replaced by irritation that Hythlodaeus could be so godsdamned presumptuous.

“I could have enjoyed the zoo with anyone,” Solus said, crossing his arms. Hythlodaeus let out a small laugh.

“Are you trying to convince me, or yourself?”

Solus put his hand to his face in frustration. All he wanted this morning was to reply to some emails and leave comments on some code reviews and have a sandwich. He certainly did not want to spend his last unscheduled hour fighting Hythlodaeus and his outlandish claims about a woman he couldn’t have spent more than four bells with.

“Are you bored? Is that why you’re here?” Solus asked, his voice strained. “Not enough drama in those Hingashi shows you’re so fond of? Have you come to entertain yourself by needling me about some throwaway selfie?”

“Throwaway selfie he says,” Hythlodaeus said wryly. “Why are you fighting me? Isn’t it you yourself who so often reminds me that he doesn’t care what others think of him?”

“I am not fighting you, I just fail to understand how one selfie spiraled into this inane fantasy of yours.”

The cheeky grin reappeared on Hythlodaeus’ face.

“So you say.” He fell silent, and for a moment Solus thought that they had finally reached the end of this awful discussion. “You did get her card, didn’t you?”

Solus let out a groan of exasperation and didn’t answer. Hythlodaeus, though, continued looking at him expectantly and without speaking, until the silence between them grew altogether too uncomfortable—

“I did, what of it?”

“...Well?”

“Well what?!”

Hythlodaeus had the gall to give Solus a disbelieving look. “Well, have you contacted her?” he asked, gesturing at Solus’ computer.

“Of course not.”

“Why not?”

It was Solus’ turn to give Hythlodaeus a disbelieving look. “Have you not been listening for the past five minutes? I knew her for. Four. Bells.”

His unrelentingly cheerful companion was not fazed in the least by this; with an unwavering grin, Hythlodaeus leaned forward to rest his elbows on the desk and give him an impish smile. “People ask for more within less time, my friend.”

Solus felt as though he was going mad.

“I’m not going to contact her!”

“Ah. I see.” Hythlodaeus rest his chin on and hand with a disappointed pout that Solus knew was only for show. “I suppose you didn’t like her after all.”

In this moment, Solus found his tongue momentarily tied.

     This moment of hesitation was what ruined him.

A corner of Hythlodaeus’s mouth turned up in silent triumph.

“Well, I need to get going—I’ve a lunch meeting to get to. Don’t work too hard, now,” Hythlodaeus said lightly, glancing at his watch as he got to his feet. It was all Solus could do to keep from slapping the smug smile off Hythlodaeus’ smug face; instead he glared daggers at his alleged friend’s retreating back, and a moment later he found himself alone in his office with the hint of a flush on his cheeks.

Annaiette had worked in stiff, intensely corporate settings before. Business casual dress code regardless of whether they were client-facing or not, a cocoon of red tape hindering their every move, corporate office drama with people who had very different ideas of fun compared to her, and the distinct lack of foam dart guns.

It was five in the afternoon on the last work day of the week, and she found her drowsy self suddenly pelted by a barrage of foam darts.

She yelped more out of surprise than pain and instantly her drowsiness dissipated, and the sounds of mischievous snickering reached her ears—a quick glance to her left revealed Lyse and D’Zentsa brandishing their dart guns at her.

“This is amazing, I didn’t know you guys had these!” Lyse exclaimed with a grin. D’zentsa nodded in mock reproach.

“Holding out on us, are you?” she said, holding up the rifle-sized dart gun in her hands.

Lyse was an old friend and training partner, and every so often she came down from the Ala Mhigan Martial Arts gym she ran on the floor above Leve’s office to chat. She held no classes on the last day of the week but left the gym open for members who wished to do freeform training—there must not be anyone at the gym, which meant they must have closed up early. D’zentsa was a rather newer addition to the gym and worked as an assistant instructor a few times a week in between classes at the local community college. O’tchakha—also a student at the college and assistant instructor at the gym—was typically attached to her at the hip but must have had class this afternoon.

“Lyse, you’ve been down here before,” Annaiette laughed.

She said this despite the fact that the dart guns were a recent development in the office—the latest office obsession that everyone latched onto after Hoary Boulder found a series of tutorials on modding them to shoot harder—and as she laughed, she slowly reached for the dart gun shoved behind one of the monitors on her desk.

In the infinitesimal moment before her hand closed over the handle, Lyse locked eyes with her.

She and Lyse moved in tandem: Annaiette wrenched the dart gun from behind the monitor as she pushed back from her desk as Lyse sidestepped and took aim at her, and in this moment the office exploded with the sounds of toy gun triggers and the gleeful battle cries of her surrounding coworkers. Annaiette found herself beset by her own engineers—a stinging betrayal that she would handle accordingly later—as she unleashed a barrage of darts at Lyse.

The stress and frustration of the week melted away as they—grown adults with very adult jobs with the accompanying adult stresses—indulged in the simple, childish pleasure of a dart gun firefight. Annaiette hadn’t any idea how long this went on and eventually found herself doubled over in uncontrollable laughter under Y’shtola’s desk, nearly unable to reload her gun as she snatched at the darts scattered about the floor—

“HELLO, EVERYONE—AH—PLEASE STOP—THE POLICE ARE HERE!”

Immediately everyone froze, and as one last dart bounced off the window, a horrified silence replaced the sounds of laughter and playful banter. Annaiette slowly got to her feet and found Tataru at the door, dwarfed by the large form of a very familiar police officer.

“Sorry, everyone,” said Slafborn with an apologetic smile as he scratched the back of his head. “There was a report of people with guns, so we had to investigate...”

“They’re just toys...” said Arenvald in confusion. Annaiette couldn’t blame him—he was relatively new and they hadn’t had the police called on them in quite a while.

“I know, I know...The report came from—ah—across the street, so we knew to check first before sending in the real response team,” Slafborn replied.

A collective groan filled the air.

Across the street were the temporary offices of a property development firm that had their dirty eyes fixed on their building and were doing their damndest to get them out. A sleazy Lalafell by the name of Yuyuhase called the police on them for ridiculous, trifling matters every so often (such as one time where he reported they were having a wild, raucous party when they were simply having a perfectly calm barbeque outside with the tiniest charcoal grills Annaiette had ever seen). They were reasonably sure that this development firm was the infamous Teledji Adeledji extending his grubby hands out of Ul’dah.

“Well, ah—stop that for tonight,” said Slafborn, stepping forward to ensure that he was visible in the window before waggling a facetiously commanding finger at them. He raised his eyebrows at them with a roguish grin before turning to leave. “Have a good one!”

Slafborn left a heavy silence in his wake as the collective employees (and friends) of Leve considered the state of their lives.

Hoary Boulder coughed and let out a small laugh.

“Well...does anyone want to go to the pub?”

Solus Galvus stared at his screen.

Chapter Text

It was the normal routine for Solus to plod home from the tram stop in the darkness of the evening, drop his bag by the front door (gently, if his laptop was inside), and flop onto the couch to stare numbly into nothingness, maybe find the energy to have a meal (sometimes takeout, sometimes bread with kukuru butter, rarely something he cooked himself), until such a time where he was able to gather himself enough to make his way to his bed.

This evening was not so different.

He made his way home from the tram stop, (gently) dropped his bag by the door, and flopped on the couch.

However, Hythlodaeus had succeeded—as he somehow always did—in leaving him with inescapable, nagging thoughts that haunted him for the entire day. And so this evening, rather than stare numbly into nothingness he found himself staring at his phone.

One godsdamned selfie shouldn’t bother him. It ought to be easy to delete it.

And yet here he was.

Bothered.

Not deleting.

There was nothing to be gained by staring at it. He very firmly told himself that he had no intention of emailing that woman, and he also very firmly told himself that it was utterly absurd to think that she had given him a second thought after she took her leave on the back of a young man’s motorbike.

And yet here he was.

A sudden knock on the front door startled him out of his thoughts—it was almost a welcome distraction until he realized the only person who would dare arrive unannounced was Hythlodaeus himself. With a heavy sigh, he pulled himself off the couch and made his way to the door. He had a passing thought to just leave Hythlodaeus outside, but deep down he had some measure of decency and knew he couldn’t do that—something that Hythlodaeus knew well.

“What do you want?” Solus said wearily when he opened the door to reveal a grinning Hythlodaeus.

“I was hungry,” said Hythlodaeus brightly, holding up a bag of takeout containers. “I might have picked up something for you as well.”

Solus sighed in exasperation as he stepped aside to let him in; he was loath to admit that his friend’s presence was somewhat of a comfort, but this was a fact already well-known to Hythlodaeus.

Without further preamble, Hythlodaeus busied himself at the coffee table, pulling out and opening the containers of Doman food that he’d brought with him. “Yours has fried rice,” he said, gesturing at a container on the table as he took the other and made himself comfortable on the couch. The smell of warm food filled the air, and it was then that Solus’ body remembered that it hadn’t had anything to eat since the bag of popoto crisps in the late afternoon.

“Thank you,” said Solus as he took the remaining container and sank onto the couch beside Hythlodaeus. As frustrating as the man could be, Solus wasn’t sure what he would do or where he would be without him. But as with all things Hythlodaeus, it was rare that his kindness came without some manner of mischief, and Solus was quite sure he knew just what his friend was here to do.

“Did you hear about the debacle in Building 4?” Hythlodaeus asked lightly. Solus glanced up from his food to examine Hythlodaeus’ face and found a relaxed smile—the debacle must not have been too disastrous if he wasn’t particularly gleeful about it.

Small talk first, then.

“Hmm. Something about a small fire?”

Building 4 was their newest building (relatively speaking) that housed the games teams—both the console development team and one of their first-party studios. Both of which tended to play fast and loose with their tech.

“Evidently the machine they use to process audio decided it was no longer for this world and just burst into flames,” Hythlodaeus said. “A friend told me they were less concerned about the fire and more concerned that they wouldn’t be able to process audio in time to cut a build for cert. They have just the one machine.”

Solus scoffed. “Typical. We have a massive build farm and they’re using one machine to process audio.”

“Too late to fix it now, I suppose, now that they’re on their seventh release,” Hythlodaeus laughed. “I’m told the funeral for the audio machine is to be held next week.”

“And will you be in attendance?” Solus asked, smirking. Hythlodaeus gave him a solemn nod in return.

“I must support my friend in his time of need.”

“How kind of you.”

Hythlodaeus grinned.

Talk of the audio machine soon led to non-work-related talk about an upcoming patch for a game Hythlodaeus was currently hooked on, where he was looking forward to some new raid something or other that was slated to come with said patch. Solus didn’t often play games these days, but he did somewhat enjoy watching Hythlodaeus play when they spent the rare weekend in each other’s company. Hythlodaeus was the sort who enjoyed purposefully killing his teammates during less-serious runs and Solus found it entertaining so long as he wasn’t the target.

“So. Did you email her?” Hythlodaeus asked during a lull in conversation.

Video game talk had gone on for long enough that Solus very nearly let down his guard. He hadn’t completely, though, and shot a reproachful glare at his friend.

“No, and I’m not going to.”

“I don’t see that you have anything to lose here,” said Hythlodaeus before popping a shrimp into his mouth.

“I don’t need her spreading lies about how creepy old Solus Galvus is,” he replied with a disgruntled frown. “There are enough rumors about me as it is.”

“You’ve been relegated to email hell as much as I these days, and I am quite confident that you would not send her a creepy one.”

A brief pause.

“I don’t see what she could want with me. I expect she would much prefer someone younger who does things like ride motorbikes.”

Hythlodaeus snorted in amused disbelief. “Motorbikes? Where did that come from?”

Solus frowned with his eyes on his food and said nothing, but he could feel Hythlodaeus’s eyes boring through his head.

“I thought you still had a good decade before your mid-life crisis,” came Hythlodaeus’s wry voice. “Was she talking about how people who ride motorbikes are handsome and dashing or some such?”

“No,” Solus said finally, though he still kept his eyes on his food. “A friend of hers arrived on a motorbike to pick her up from the zoo, and she hopped onto the back like she did it all the time.”

He heard Hythlodaeus snickering and pointedly continued staring at his food.

“The fact that she’s comfortable on motorbikes doesn’t mean anything, my friend.”

Silence.

“...I’m much too old now.”

Hythlodaeus only snickered louder. “One: no, and two: I should remind you that she appears to be an Elezen—unless she told you her age, there’s no way to know. She could very well be older than us.”

Solus answered by taking a too-big mouthful of rice and sullenly chewing in silence.

“So many excuses,” Hythlodaeus drawled dramatically as he reached over to put his empty takeout container on the coffee table. He raised his arms to stretch before laying his legs across Solus’ lap and settling his back against the armrest with his eyes shut. “The last time you were like this, you had a whole host of excuses, too.”

Solus bristled but couldn’t quite move with Hythlodaeus’ legs across his lap. “That was years ago,” he said irately. Hythlodaeus cracked an eye open as a grin formed on his face.

“Nearly twenty now. I should also remind you that you hesitated for so unbelievably long that he dropped off the face the star. And that time you didn’t even have his name.”

He sideyed Hythlodaeus with a scowl but said nothing. It was true that there had been someone twenty years ago, and it was true that he’d lost his chance when that someone inexplicably disappeared. He hoped that he and their little open source group had simply done something to offend him and cause him to cut ties, because the ghastly alternative was that something terrible had befallen him. But it wasn’t worth thinking about anymore—they were nothing more than a collection of repository commits and chat logs now and there was naught he could do about it.

Hythlodaeus wiggled a leg to get his attention.

“So, are you going to contact her?”

“No.”

“You, my friend, will never get anywhere with that attitude,” said Hythlodaeus, waggling a finger at him. “At least tell me her name, then.”

Solus sighed.

“Annaiette.”

“Cute. Where does she work?”

He narrowed his eyes. “If you think I’m going to tell you that…”

“Fine, fine,” Hythlodaeus laughed. “What does she do, though? Some sort of engineer, I’m assuming?”

“Her card said full stack and product lead, but who knows what that means? We didn’t talk about work apart from the fact that I was hiding from Elidibus’ inane team building event.”

The reaction to his words was more extreme than expected, and he had to hold his food out of harm’s way lest Hythlodaeus kick it out of his hands in his haste to sit up.

“You didn’t talk about work?”

“No. Considering we were at the zoo, we talked about the animals, mostly.”

“Hades.”

There was a fire in Hythlodaeus’ eyes and a fire in the way he spoke Solus’ true name.

“You should email her.”

His friend was—for once—incredibly serious, and Solus found his resolve to not contact Annaiette wavering. But the uncontrollable reflex to dig his heels in and not let him win quickly took hold, and he averted his gaze with a frown.

“I’m not.”

The silence between them was a clear sign that it was now he who was frustrating Hythlodaeus, a fact made more obvious by the brief and subtle tensing of Hythlodaeus’ legs before he pulled them from Solus’ lap.

“You said that last time, too, and look where it got you.”

Solus narrowed his eyes at Hythlodaeus as he stuffed the rest of his shrimps into his mouth. Hythlodaeus stared at him for a few quiet moments, during which Solus did his very best to look very serious and slowly chew while making eye contact—this soon had the desired effect, and Hythlodaeus snorted in laughter before easing back against the backrest and giving his arm a weary but playful shove.

“You are hopeless, Hades.”

Hythlodaeus took a seat at his home computer and smiled as he opened a new tab.

“Now...who are you?”

The universe was pulling apart at the seams.

Or at least, that’s what it felt like to Annaiette on her third day in the hell of tracking down a bug in their production environment. It checked all the boxes on the Horrible Bug Checklist: it happened only in the live environment and not in test ones, it did not repro 100% of the time, the repro steps themselves were an awful, awful mess of hacks to get oneself into the right state to reproduce the bug, and perhaps the worst one—a year ago she’d forseen this problem but had to make the call to proceed in spite of it in order to meet their milestones.

“How do you like that tech debt now, Annaiette?” she muttered gloomily. She didn’t normally handle these sorts of issues these days, but she was the one most familiar with this particular system (since she wrote most of it, after all), and all the other engineers were entangled in similar bugs that had surfaced once their redesigned architecture was put through its paces in the real world.

Her brain was full of sludge now and she was doggedly dragging herself through it. She’d already talked Y’shtola and Moenbryda through her intended fix and they had agreed that it should work, but they were all experienced enough to know that there were all sorts of ways a Should Work fix could go fantastically wrong. And that was just the fix itself; she would still need to test it, which was going to be one last pain in her arse before she could call it done.

She hit the Build button and pushed herself away from her desk. “Snack time,” she said when Moenbryda glanced up from her computer questioningly.

As she headed for the kitchen, she stretched her back out and grimaced when she heard her spine cracking—a consequence of sitting at her desk for nearly three uninterrupted bells. She found herself torn between being a responsible adult and having fruit as a snack or getting a head start on the end-of-the-week drinking and taking a bottle of beer from the small refrigerator filled with it. The beer would certainly calm her nerves and there was a small chance that her code could potentially be better for it, but it was only three in the afternoon...

The sound of small footsteps drew her attention from this dilemma and she found Tataru entering the kitchen with a box of snacks.

“Hello, Annaiette!” said Tataru cheerfully. When Annaiette could only give her a weary smile and half-wave in response, she visibly stifled a small laugh. “Oh, you look like you’ve had a day. Fortunately, I think I’ve just the thing! Help yourself to what’s in the other fridge—it’s a good time for it.”

Annaiette’s eyes widened and immediately snapped to the other fridge in the kitchen—the small, special fridge that they were forbidden from opening except with Tataru’s explicit permission. The only person completely banned from opening the special fridge was Alphinaud, after that fateful day he gave nearly all the sangria and Tataru’s homemade cake to visiting potential investors. For a while he was banned from even partaking in any of Tataru’s homemade treats, but nowadays he was allowed to have some so long as he was not the one opening the fridge—not that it mattered at the moment, since he was still working on getting his PhD and was away in Sharlayan for the school term.

Without a word so as not to risk any ban, no matter how slim the chances, Annaiette opened the special fridge to find three pitchers of blood red sangria filled with chopped apples and oranges.

“Tataru, I love you,” Annaiette said, her voice nearly a sob as she pulled one of the pitchers from the fridge.

“Oh, you,” Tataru replied, but the grin on her face as she refilled the snack bins on the shelves made it clear that she had expected that and was quite pleased with herself.

It wasn’t long before Tataru summoned the rest of the office to the kitchen to have sangria—the kitchen was quickly filled with cheerful chatter and exhausted but smiling faces that had been on the verge of despair not ten minutes ago. Annaiette found herself sitting at one of the kitchen tables with the other engineers as they talked about their weekend plans. She didn’t have anything of interest to say as her only plans were to sleep in and visit her favorite bakery—eventually she found herself absently looking at work email for no readily-apparent reason.

“What are you doing? Waiting for something?” Moenbryda asked in amusement the third time she unlocked her phone to glance at her email for two seconds before locking it again.

“Erm...I don’t actually know,” she laughed. It wasn’t a lie—she wasn’t sure why she was so compelled to look at her email, especially mid afternoon before the weekend on a day where she received surprisingly few emails.

“Right,” Moenbryda said, arching an eyebrow with an amused smile. She didn’t press the matter, but Annaiette wouldn’t have known what to tell her if she had; her email was giving her some amount of anxiety that she didn’t understand, but hoped it would be alleviated by a long, lazy weekend not looking at it.

She sipped at her sangria and listened for a few minutes as the others got into a heated discussion about the latest episode of a television show, before peering down once more at her very uneventful phone only to find a message notification waiting for her.

“Huh, who is this?” she murmured. Moenbryda glanced over curiously, and Annaiette pushed her phone closer to give her a better view.

“‘Wespes?’” Moenbryda laughed incredulously as she read the messages. “Looks like some kid who wants your advice.”

“Strange that they’d come to me for advice but it seems harmless enough. I guess we’ll see if they get weird and try to link me to some porn site.”

Chapter Text

Solus was having a very good day.

His most important meeting of the day had been incredibly productive and a long time coming: it was Fandaniel’s last, desperate attempt to out-maneuver him in setting new AnyderSoft policies regarding user data collection. For the past year or so, Fandaniel had become increasingly aggressive in campaigning to expand the scope of data collected from their users, for the purposes of extremely targeted marketing and to also sell the data to third parties—both of which Solus found reprehensible for many reasons. He’d been content to quietly and calmly refute all of Fandaniel’s arguments for the past year (because it drove the man absolutely mad), but Fandaniel had finally reached the threshold that Elidibus deemed acceptable for Solus to let go of any restraint: when Fandaniel finally, finally suggested that Solus was too conservative, that his technical skill was lacking, and that both these things were holding AnyderSoft back from its true potential.

And thus Solus spent a very enjoyable hour tearing apart anything and everything that Fandaniel brought to the table. Particularly enjoyable was the part where he talked about record profits in one of the fledgling technologies that Solus had a heavy hand in developing—the subject of which he had already given several talks about (such as his talk at the Ishgard conference).

Another fact which drove Fandaniel absolutely mad.

That he had such a good day only meant, however, that something to spoil it would soon round the corner.

And indeed, as he was rounding the corner to the kitchen on his floor for a cup of coffee he nearly ran face-first into Hythlodaeus, who after nearly a fortnight of silence was almost certainly on his way to beleaguer him again about emailing the woman from the conference.

“Fancy running into you here, my friend,” said Hythlodaeus with a cheeky grin. Solus was in a good enough mood that the corner of his mouth turned up in a half-smile.

“It’s almost as if my office is on this floor,” Solus replied wryly.

That Hythlodaeus fell in step with him on his way to the kitchen only confirmed his suspicions.

“All right, why are you here?” Solus asked, leaning against the kitchen counter with his arms crossed as he waited for the coffee machine to do its work. “Come to talk about that email that I’m not going to send?”

Hythlodaeus let out an impressed laugh as he tapped his coffee settings into the other coffee machine. “My, you’re in a good mood. But no, I actually didn’t. Since you’ve brought it up, though...”

“No,” Solus said flatly. “Why are you here, then?”

“A little colibri might have told me you had a field day with little Daniel,” Hythlodaeus said, his grin taking a decidedly mischievous turn. “I wanted to get the details directly from the man himself.”

Solus’s smile grew slightly wider. “Pity you weren’t there, it was very therapeutic. I’ll tell you more in my office.”

Sound carried far too well in this building—an oversight Elidibus kicked himself over for a good while—so discretion was important, especially with gossip and especially with people as high-ranked as themselves. So instead, whilst they waited for the machines to finish their single servings of middling coffee—good enough in a pinch but not as good as a more traditional coffee maker—Hythlodaeus chattered about the new raid that had just patched into his game, and how he accidentally (“accidentally”) caused a wipe for 24 people with one errant laser.

Soon enough they were back in Solus’ office, coffee in hand and the door safely shut.

“So! Give me all the details,” Hythlodaeus asked gleefully.

“The meeting started with the most blatant attempt at politicking possible,” Solus began. “You know how Daniel gets once he’s been backed into a corner. It was just a matter of waiting for him to press the right button, which he did today. Quite early on in the meeting, actually, which left me with about 45 minutes.”

“Blatant politicking,” Hythlodaeus repeated, his grin growing wider. “Then Elidibus and Nabriales were there at his behest.”

Solus nodded with a triumphant smirk. “They were. He almost managed to pull Lahabrea into it, but fortunately for Lahabrea, he is out of town.”

As he related the details of the meeting to Hythlodaeus—down to the diagrams and charts and figures that Fandaniel had used—his friend’s grin grew ever wider, until finally he was cackling in his seat as Solus described the look on Fandaniel’s face when the meeting reached its scheduled end.

“You’d have thought he was holding back an enormous shit. Serves him right for even thinking he could drag me through the mud,” Solus concluded as he took a long sip from his mug.

“I don’t know what he expected,” Hythlodaeus said, wiping a tear from his eye. “Honestly, dragging Elidibus into it…”

“Daniel may be...acceptable...at most things, but tact is not one of them.”

Hythlodaeus nodded in agreement and the both of them fell silent as they sipped at their coffee.

“So!” Hythlodaeus said brightly. “Since you brought it up yourself, have you considered sending that email yet?”

A frown was all Solus had in reply.

“I really do think it will be worth your while to at least have coffee with her,” Hythlodaeus said reproachfully.

Suspicious.

“And why do you think that?” Solus asked, narrowing his eyes.

“Well, you tolerated her of your own volition for four whole bells,” Hythlodaeus said with a smile. “When was the last time you did that with anyone?”

Frustration bubbled in Solus’ chest; Hythlodaeus was still on this even weeks later, and he knew Hythlodaues would not stop until he sent that godsdamned email or came completely undone and unleashed his rage upon him.

And perhaps it was because he was still riding the last vestiges of the good mood high, or perhaps it was because his rage was currently spent after letting loose and dismantling Fandaniel’s distasteful efforts...

     ...But Solus felt something within him snap.

“Fine. Fine! If you are so hellbent on having me make a fool of myself…!” Solus said irately as he jabbed the keyboard to unlock his computer.

But despite this show, he found himself hesitating after clicking into the drafts folder of his email.

Hythlodaeus silently watched him, head cocked slightly to the side with an unwavering smile.

The sight of that smile brought the frustration back—it took hold and he wanted nothing more than to get this all over with—

And a moment later he was horrified to find that after everything—

     He had clicked the Send button.

Hythlodaeus raised his eyebrows in mild surprise. “That was certainly fast.” He smiled sweetly. “Did you...did you perhaps have an email drafted this whole time?”

Solus very pointedly kept his eyes on his drafts folder, now minus one email.

“Well, I for one am proud of you,” said Hythlodaeus, as though he hadn’t just beleaguered him into a corner.

He narrowed his eyes at his friend once more, but at the very least he now felt a measure of relief. It was done, he’d probably not get any manner of reply which was honestly for the best. And the icing on the cake: Hythlodaeus would soon stop pestering him about sending the blasted email and the both of them could move on with their lives.

Solus was most certainly relieved to put this behind him, and he most certainly did not spend the rest of the afternoon with nagging feelings of dread and regret in the back of his mind.

And he especially did not agree to go out for drinks with Hythlodaeus in order to distract himself from the dread and regret that was very definitely not happening at all.

Annaiette Verdeleaux stared at her screen.

“Huh,” she said to herself.

“All right there?”

She gave a start at the sound of Moenbryda’s voice—she thought she was the only one currently in the engineering corner but she found Moenbryda returning from a coffee break in the kitchen.

“Hmm. What do you make of this, Moenbryda?” Annaiette asked, gesturing at her screen as Moenbryda returned to her desk.

Moenbryda leaned over to read the email, and as her eyes darted across the screen, Annaiette could see the smile on her face growing ever wider.

“What’s His Face wants to have a chat, does he?” she said, grinning and giving Annaiette a sidelong glance.

“I don’t see why AnyderSoft would care about what we do here, everything is relatively standard,” Annaiette said, crossing her arms with a furrowed brow. She looked up in confusion when Moenbryda let out a snort of amusement.

“You’ve missed the mark by just a bit, Annaiette,” Moenbrdya laughed. “I think the important part is that he ‘enjoyed your company at the zoo’, not Leve tech.”

Annaiette gave her an incredulous look before letting out a laugh. “What? He just spent the afternoon with me because he was hiding from executives. And perhaps because I gave him some dried fruit.”

“Basically friends already, then.”

There was a grin on Moenbrdya’s face that Annaiette didn’t like. It was imminently clear what that grin implied, but Annaiette couldn’t help but be skeptical—she couldn’t fathom what a man like Solus Galvus would care to see in someone like her.

But neither could she fathom what interest he could have in Leve.

So there she sat, paralyzed by confusion.

“If you liked the time at the zoo, then it couldn’t hurt to see what he has to say,” Moenbryda said after a few minutes of silence as she scrolled through her email. “You make friends with everyone, I’m sure it’ll be just fine.”

Words of protest nearly made it out of Annaiette’s mouth, but a passing thought held them back: Solus Galvus did make a peculiar, offhand comment about how he was pestered about not having friends...

“Well,” Annaiette began, drumming her fingers on her desk in mild uncertainty, “I suppose you’re right. Can’t hurt to have more friends.”

“Mmhmm. Friends.”

“Moenbryda—!”

An uncontrollable warmth began creeping up her skin, and Annaiette silently thanked the Twelve that the impending sunset meant the darkness obscured any hint of it.

Fortunately the feeling quickly passed, and she looked back to the email and clicked Reply.

It just so happened that Annaiette had requested the next day off.

Would that her day off was to do something fun and enjoyable, though. Instead, it was the polar opposite of fun: a trip to the dreaded Bureau of the Secretariat in order to renew her (seldom-used) driver’s license. As was customary for these trips, she’d made her way to Downtown Mor Dhona at an unholy hour, only to find that the unholy hour had not been unholy enough to beat the crowd.

There was, though, something planned for the day that she hoped would be fun.

AnyderSoft headquarters were located in Downtown (and in fact were only a few blocks away), and she’d been pleasantly surprised to find that a busy man such as Solus Galvus actually had a schedule flexible enough for an outside coffee break at the ambiguous hour of Whenever-She-Gets-Out-of-the-Bureau o’clock. She hoped to be finished with Bureau hell by midmorning, but the line was moving so slowly that she had little confidence in that being the case.

She absently played games on her phone to pass the time before she finally forced herself off to keep from obsessively pulling for new characters. It was just as well, though, because that Wespes? person had sent her a message at about half ten. When Wespes had first contacted her weeks ago, it was to get help deciding whether next year’s Leylines conference would be worth the exorbitant cost of the general attendance pass and it turned out that they were otherwise quite enjoyable to talk to. They talked on and off since that initial conversation and at one point got on the subject of side projects, which eventually led to talk about artificial intelligence—a subject that Annaiette had been quite fond of but put aside shortly before she was hired at Leve, and it had been a nice reminder of something she once enjoyed.

Wespes didn’t have much to say today; they related an amusing incident in their work kitchen where a frazzled intern had accidentally spilled a bin of coffee grounds all over the floor, before simply wishing her a good day (accompanied by three coffee emojis) and falling silent.

It was nearly noon by the time Annaiette’s turn came at the licensing counter. She had made an effort to look slightly nicer than usual for the license photo; on normal days she didn’t do anything special with her face or hair, but today she went the extra two ilms to put on eyeliner and style her hair rather than shove it into the customary hair tie. But these half-hearted efforts turned out to be for naught—after she had her photo taken, she was mildly disgruntled to find that despite the big smile (and eyeliner, and hair), she still looked like she had languished for half the day at the Bureau. Because she had. But she hadn’t wanted her license photo to show that.

Regardless, it was finally over with, and she let out an audible groan of relief when she exited the Bureau doors, reveling in the feel of the sun on her skin.

Because she was loath to leave the sun after spending hours in the too-cold Bureau building, she found a sunny spot out of the way of passersby and pulled her phone from her pocket. She silently laughed at one of the notifications on her lock screen (“Are you alive?” read a message from Wespes), before tapping into her email to let Solus Galvus know she had finally escaped the Bureau.

With the message sent, she pocketed her phone and glanced up and down the street to orient herself. Annaiette didn’t frequent Downtown so it took her a moment to work out just where she was, but soon she was on her way to the agreed-upon café. The sidewalks were quite crowded—it was lunch hour in Downtown, after all—and the more people she weaved by, the more she wondered if there would even be anywhere to sit by the time she got there.

But it seemed that she didn’t need to be worried about that at all: as she neared the cafe and peered through the window, she caught sight of What’s His Face himself beside an empty table as he unslung a laptop bag from his shoulders.

“Hello!” Annaiette said brightly and suddenly as he was in the midst of taking a seat—partly because she was in quite a good mood now that she was finished with the Bureau, and partly to see if he could be surprised.

She was rewarded by a subtle twitch of his shoulders, but (somewhat disappointingly) the face that greeted her when he turned around was one that was perfectly untroubled by her sudden appearance.

“Ah, good morning,” Solus said as he held out his hand. He had the same leisurely air she remembered from the conference and zoo. “It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

“Likewise,” Annaiette replied warmly as she shook his hand. “So, coffee then?”

“Or any other beverage you so choose,” said Solus with a nod. And with a hint of sarcasm in his voice, he added, “There are at least two.”

Annaiette grinned as they squeezed past other tables to get to the ordering line and took their place at the end. “Maybe even three,” she said as she peered up at the menu, which included the usual assortment of coffee, espresso, and other drinks that definitely numbered more than three. “So, not busy today? I was honestly surprised you didn’t need a more concrete time than ‘whenever I get out of the Bureau.’”

“Ah. As luck would have it, my schedule today isn’t quite as heavy as it normally is.” A brief look of either anxiety or despair or both flashed across Solus’ face at the mention of his schedule—Annaiette supposed someone as important as him was constantly booked for meetings most days.

“Well, that’s good,” she replied cheerfully. “Especially since I made it out of the Bureau unscathed.”

The corner of his mouth turned up in amusement. “One never escapes from the Bureau unscathed—you simply do not see the scars it leaves upon your soul.”

“Is that so?” Annaiette laughed wryly. “My soul must be all broken up then, considering how often I’ve had to go there these past couple of years.”

“It’s quite tragic, really.”

But further silliness was forestalled when Annaiette’s turn at the counter came up. She took one last glance at the menu board and ordered an espresso con panna and a panini, and had to carefully resist the very alluring, fresh banana bread in the display case.

“I know this is just supposed to be coffee—I’m really hungry but don’t feel like you need to spend your whole lunch here,” Annaiette said apologetically, glancing over her shoulder at Solus. He gave an offhanded shrug.

“I could use some food myself. I’ll not have time this afternoon.”

“Will you be paying together, Mr. Galvus?” asked the cashier.

“Oh—! No, I’ll pay for m—” Annaiette began.

“Yes.”

Annaiette was mortified to find that Solus was already passing a credit card to the cashier; it was startling how quickly and effortlessly his fingers had pulled the card from the wallet that all but materialized in his hands out of his back pocket, and the only suitable explanation she could think of was that he was well-versed in the art of battling people to pay restaurant bills due to either business or friends or family or all three.

“And for you, sir?”

“I’d like a cappuccino and the dodo panini,” he told the cashier, who dutifully tapped the order into the register.

“Of course. So that’ll be an espresso con panna, a cappuccino, a bacon panini, and a dodo panini. Your total comes out to be…”

Solus finished paying and led her back to their table with an amused half-smile. “It’s the least I could do,” he said simply.

And before she knew what she was saying, she blurted out, “I’ve got the next one, then.”

If Solus found this at all strange or untoward, he didn’t look it and merely nodded as he settled into his seat. His reaction, though—or lack thereof—made Annaiette wonder if her antics had already given him reason to not associate with her ever again.

“So...Annaiette,” Solus began almost hesitantly, as though testing her name on his tongue, “I’ve been quite curious—what sort of work do you do at Leve? I’m afraid I wasn’t sure what to fully make of ‘full stack developer and product lead.’”

“Oh, that. I don’t blame you—it’s just so hard to put a title on what I do. You know how it is at startups, I’m sure,” Annaiette said with the slightest hint of a nervous laugh. “Most of my work used to be backend work, but lately I’ve been tangled up overseeing the overall ecosystem.”

It wasn’t nearly as exciting as it sounded—she essentially was now in charge of wrangling their ragtag group of engineers into making something functional without hating themselves and the codebase too much—but she felt a bit self-conscious about her work and couldn’t help but try to dress up her role in the presence of an incredibly smart engineer. She was also sure, however, that despite her efforts he’d see through it immediately.

“That certainly sounds familiar, yes,” Solus said with a knowing nod. “It sounds as though things are going well for Leve, then.”

“I can’t complain! We’re doing well enough to justify a redesign of our microservice architecture,” Annaiette said. She grinned. “It’s why I went to your panel, actually. We’ve got more users than ever, but—ah—not, you know, millions of them.”

“Progress is progress, is it not?”

Annaiette wasn’t sure if his face was one of boredom or perhaps even disappointment; she smiled and nodded but only felt even more self-conscious than before—the feeling was foreign as there were few things that made her feel this self-conscious, but it was slowly sinking in that she was here before the man who helped raise the AnyderSoft into the monolith it was today...

It was a great relief when a waitress arrived with their drinks, and she immediately busied herself with her espresso con panna, stirring the great dollop of whipped cream a bit more thoroughly than she normally would have.

“We’ve progressed enough that playing with machine learning techniques is very relevant, so that’s fun,” she continued as she stirred her anxieties into her espresso.

At the mention of machine learning, Solus visibly perked up. “Oh? Something you enjoy, then?” he asked as he took a sip of his cappuccino.

“I do! My last real work with it was just a hobby project in college, though...Happy to get into it again, and this time I get paid to do it.”

Solus made a small noise of interest into his cup.

“Are you just out of school, then?” he asked. Annaiette raised her eyebrows in disbelief before letting out an amused, unrestrained laugh.

“You flatter me, but no, that was maybe fifteen years ago. I’m older than people often think.”

It was now Solus’ turn to look mildly surprised. “That’s quite a while to put it aside. Did you tire of it for a time?”

“Ah, no. I had some life...events...throw a wrench in things, and worked all sorts of odd jobs after that until I stumbled my way into Leve. And then I was so busy that I hadn’t the energy to work on side projects—they weren’t doing well at the time.”

“Oh, was their recovery your doing?” Solus asked, shifting in his seat and sitting up straighter in interest. “I recall things were quite dire for a time.”

“It wasn’t just me, we all got the collective shite together to keep things running,” she said, waving his words away. “No heroics or anything—I was just an extra pair of hands to prop them up.”

“Just the sort of thing a hero would say,” he said over the rim of his cup with a smirk.

Annaiette certainly didn’t consider herself any sort of hero during her early days working with Leve...His tone, though, was not mocking despite the sarcasm, so she was more than happy to further the nonsense. “Ah yes, it’s me the hero. You’ve worked it out, damn it all,” she laughed, grinning. “Don’t tell anyone or you’ll blow my cover.”

“Your secret is safe with me, hero,” said Solus solemnly, nodding as he put his hand over his heart.

“What about you?” Annaiette asked when she realized she’d just been talking about herself the entire time. “I imagine your day must be full of heroics, considering the...the everything of AnyderSoft.”

Solus shrugged and put his hands up in a sort of defeated exasperation. “I’m more the villain than the hero nowadays,” he said with a huff of amusement. “But we’d have crashed and burned a thousand thousand times over if I let the people proceed with whatever flavor of the month, so-called revolutionary framework they fixate on that would solve two problems and create a hundred more. Or let them go through with that bone-breaking refactor that they guarantee won’t take longer than a year and most certainly will not be disruptive for our ship dates at all.”

He let out a long-suffering sigh, and Annaiette stifled a laugh at the sight of him—he looked about three malms past finished with all the aforementioned people he spent his time exerting his villainy upon.

“And what does the villain Solus Galvus get up to when not crushing poor engineers underfoot?”

Curiously, he seemed halfway between surprised and confused by her question and took a moment to think on his answer. “I don’t often have time these days,” he said eventually, and his eyes flicked briefly to the side as though looking for an out, “but when I do, I play games.”

Solus had an impeccable mahjong face but that tiny eye flick had given him away. Annaiette had to stifle another laugh. “Well, that sounds fun,” she said brightly. “What kind?”

“A friend manages to—pull me into MMOs every now and again,” said Solus, casually easing back into his chair as he took a sip from his mug. “What about you? You certainly seem like the gaming sort.”

“Well, what better medium for further heroics?” Annaiette laughed, grinning and cheekily flexing an arm.

A waitress arrived with their sandwiches as she was in the midst of flexing and she very nearly would have punched a plate out of her hands had the waitress not been so agile. Annaiette apologized profusely to the Lalafellin woman as her face warmed in embarrassment—she stole a quick glance across the table and found that a smile had appeared on Solus’ face whilst he busied himself with his plate and utensils.

“You didn’t see that,” she said, grinning despite herself.

“All I see is this sandwich.” He didn’t look up from his sandwich and the cheese stretching between its two halves as he separated them, but his smile persisted nonetheless.

Annaiette spent the next half bell chattering about video games and eventually side projects (which the both of them had few of). She didn’t normally like to talk quite this much, but Solus seemed somewhat ill at ease talking about hobbies—he seemed perfectly forthcoming with amusing, sarcastic quips, but she kept finding herself casually and subtly deflected in other directions in a way that made her unsure if he was doing it deliberately. It wouldn’t surprise her in the least if he hadn’t any time for hobbies so after the first few deflections she tried to steer clear of the topic of his, and neither did she wish to pester him with endless questions about his work so she did her best to not do that either. Regardless, it was still a pleasant time and he didn’t look terribly bored, so there was that.

“I do miss all the silly conversations to be had with the people I used to work with,” Annaiette began after a brief silence whilst they both took the time to eat. “I had one internet friend who’d go on and on into the night. I’m a bit of a night owl myself but I never did figure out how his brain kept working at that speed at three in the morning.”

“Ah, one of those,” Solus said, nodding knowingly. “I know them well. Suffice it to say that I, too, have had little success in learning their secrets.”

“Is that so?” said Annaiette in surprise. “I’d have thought you would be one for the late nights engrossed in work.”

His smile had a hint of a smirk. “Certainly, when I was much younger. I am far too old and frail for such antics now.”

At this, Annaiette raised her eyebrows incredulously. “If you’re old and frail, you certainly don’t look it,” she chuckled. She almost added that she thought his shoulders looked very strong, but she quickly caught herself before she opened her mouth—she’d said that sort of thing in the past and had it end in generally bad ways, most of which were the loss of a new friend.

“Secretly old and frail, which is perhaps the worst,” he said dramatically.

“Ah yes, you’re the worst. Clearly.” Annaiette nodded solemnly but quickly snorted in amusement when Solus nodded along.

He opened his mouth to say something but was distracted by a notification on his watch.

“My apologies.” His voice held a ten-tonze weight, it seemed. “I hate to leave so suddenly but I’m afraid my presence has been requested at an upcoming meeting.” He looked rather put out by the prospect, but Annaiette couldn’t blame him—their short coffee break had turned into a much longer lunch and she was quite certain he had more important things to be doing.

“It’s completely fine!” Annaiette said brightly as he down the rest of his glass of water. “It was nice to meet up with you again.”

“Likewise.” He shouldered his laptop bag and held out his hand. “What’s His Face found it a pleasure.”

Annaiette raised her eyebrows in mild disbelief before letting out a loud, incredulous laugh and shaking his hand.

“Good to hear. Have a good rest of your day, What’s Your Face.”

“Unlikely,” he said over his shoulder as he sidled out of the dining area.

“Do your best, then,” Annaiette called.

She grinned when she caught sight of the smirk on his face as he turned and gave a nonchalant wave on his way out the door.

Chapter Text

Most AnyderSoft people knew those such as Solus Galvus had precious little time for frivolous meetings—most people who would have reason to schedule a meeting with him, in any case—and they did not make sudden requests for his attendance lightly, least not for 1 PM meetings. Such requests were guaranteed to be fraught with some crisis or another, and it was for some crisis or another that he’d cut his lunch short.

He’d arrived to a conference room abuzz with an energy that was anxious and bone-tired both, and the eyes that looked up as he entered held a sort of weary dread. Igeyorhm sat at the end of the long conference table, frowning as she read a document on her laptop. The seat beside her had been left empty, presumably for him; she glanced up from her laptop as he took a seat and opened her mouth to greet him, but a strange look came over her when she met his gaze—one of confusion and perhaps even suspicion.

“Are you all right?” she asked, raising her eyebrows.

“What? Of course I am,” Solus replied, frowning.

She didn’t seem convinced but didn’t press the matter. “Thanks for coming so suddenly,” she said gratefully. “I thought it best that you were here since Lahabrea is away.”

“Think nothing of it,” said Solus with a nod. “So things have become quite real now, it seems.”

The corner of Igeyorhm’s mouth turned slightly up. “Very much so,” she replied, and Solus could hear a subtle hint of amusement in her words despite her obvious annoyance. It put him at ease since it meant that things were not so dire that he’d need to actually think.

Still, he ought to pay some amount of attention in case he did need to think—a task which was proving to be frustratingly difficult with his heart still fluttering in his chest. Fortunately for him (but unfortunately for the game console division), the topic of the meeting was the latest generation of the AnyderSoft console and the fact that their development milestones had slipped so far that they would not be able to ship on the announced release date. The legal implications of a delay were always fraught once they had accepted people’s gil in the form of preorders, which was why the AnyderSoft general counsel, Igeyorhm, and one of Pashtarot’s senior financial specialists were present to help the console division figure out their next steps.

This sort of thing bored Solus to no end and was part of the reason why he had so obstinately refused the position of CTO. At least the lead engineers of the console division had the discussion under control and were displaying the appropriate amount of shame as they described the high-level series of events over the past four years leading to their overall slip; he was sure Lahabrea would be well-apprised of their progress over the years, but Igeyohrm—perhaps wishing to make them sweat a bit—had asked them to summarize it all for Solus’ benefit. He knew things like delays were just the reality of development, but even Lahabrea had found their timeline uncomfortably optimistic.

And lo: here they were.

Or, more accurately: here the console division was, and here he was to bear witness to their current tribulations.

The meeting wasn’t terribly long: it was the sort where everyone acknowledged that Yes, There Is a Problem and then scheduled further meetings to actually discuss the finer details of solving said problem. All the better, though, because he hadn’t been able to focus at all—his mind was still back at the café with the coffee and the sandwiches and that laugh—

“Emet, are you sure you’re all right?” came Igeyohrm’s voice as the meeting came to a close and the attendees got up to leave. Solus glanced down at her suspiciously.

“I said I was fine. Does it look as though something is the matter?”

“You look a tad ill is all—bit of a flush on your face,” said Igeyorhm as she rolled up her laptop’s charger cable.

“Thank you for your concern, but I’m perfectly fine,” Solus replied, perhaps more sarcastically than intended. “I must be off—email me if you need anything else.” He held up a hand in farewell and turned to leave before she could ask any further questions; he did feel a bit ill but certainly did not want her to know that.

As he made his way across the courtyard to the building where his office sat, he tried to no avail to push the ill feeling away. He couldn’t help but comb over the things he’d said during lunch and soon a creeping dread made its way into his gut—he’d done a good job making himself out to be a very boring person…

Solus exhaled sharply and frowned while he waited for the elevator. He did what he set out to do—coffee with the woman from the conference—and he’d done it expecting absolutely nothing to come of it so in the end, it didn’t matter whether he made himself out to be boring or not. He firmly told himself to put the nonsensical dread aside—to box it up, tape it shut, and shove it into the closet with all the other junk—because it was done and relief was the correct feeling here, not dread.

But when he arrived at his office and sank slowly, wearily, into his chair, he stared blankly at his computer’s lock screen with the dread stubbornly lingering in the pit of his stomach. He buried his face in his hands and let out a low, drawn-out groan, and he rubbed his warming cheeks in a futile attempt to rub the dread away.

When finally the dread was under some semblance of control, he let his hands drop into his lap and nearly leapt out of his seat when he saw Hythlodaeus peering in through the just-open doorway.

“Hythlodaeus!” Solus exclaimed in mingled surprise and indignation, before hastily clearing his throat and straightening up in his chair. “What are you doing skulking about?”

“And good afternoon to you too, my friend,” said Hythlodaeus, grinning as he invited himself in and made himself comfortable in the chair just across from Solus. He crossed his legs and smiled that charming, sweet smile that Solus well knew concealed gleeful mischief underneath, leaning forward to rest an elbow on the desk and his chin in his hand. “So, how was it?”

“How was what?”

The smile only grew sweeter.

“Your date, of course.”

“It wasn’t a date.”

“Ah, so you simply invited someone you fancy out for coffee for work reasons.”

Solus kept his eyes on his monitors as he unlocked his computer. “I don’t fancy her.”

At this, Hythlodaeus let out a loud, hearty laugh that went on far longer than it should have—Solus found his brow furrowing more and more the longer it went on.

“Well, then,” said Hythlodaeus once he finally stopped laughing as he wiped a mock tear from his eye, “how was your Not A Date with this person that you don’t fancy?”

Solus was making an attempt to read his emails in an effort to look at anything but Hythlodaeus, but while his eyes perceived some number of words, his brain processed exactly none of them.

“It was fine,” he said finally, crossing his arms as he begrudgingly met Hythlodaeus’s gaze. “Though she must think I’m terrifically boring.”

“What makes you say that? Was she not enjoying herself?”

He thought back on the café—she’d appeared to have a nice time, and had spent most of it smiling and laughing, but he had caught the subtle shift in her when her attempts to ask about his hobbies were met with very boring answers...

“I’m sure she was simply being polite.”

He was met with silence and a wide smile.

“...What?” Solus demanded.

Hythlodaeus shifted so that his hand rested on his cheek.

“Did you know that you’re smiling, my friend?”

In unthinking reflex, Solus scowled and averted his gaze from his friend in a huff, and to his horror he found an uncontrollable warmth spreading across his cheeks. He heard Hythlodaeus snickering quietly to himself and very pointedly did not look at him—instead he once more tried and failed to read his emails. “If you are here to revel in my misfortune, then pray do so when I don’t have two hundred emails to catch up on,” Solus said sullenly.

“Misfortune? There’s no need to be quite so dramatic,” Hythlodaeus said in amused disbelief. “My goodness, Hades, it was coffee with someone who seems quite nice, not a sales meeting where everyone and the waiter is playing everyone else.”

Solus had finally found an email that his mutinous brain could process, and he spent the next minute silently typing out a reply with his brow fixed in a scowl. Were Hythlodaeus any other person, he’d not manage to get under Solus’ skin and Solus would have a perfectly composed face and a string of glib responses pouring out his mouth. As it was, he’d known the man for far too long and far too closely to bother with the façade—a fact which Hythlodaeus knew well and often used for his own entertainment.

He knew just as well when he had gone too far.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Hythlodaeus said when Solus remained silent as he continued typing up a response. “Are you up for drinks later? I would love to hear about it, truly.”

Solus had half a mind to refuse out of spite, but a small part of him was reluctant to be alone today, and it was this part of him that gave his answer:

“Fine. My last meeting ends at five.”

Hythlodaeus smiled and clapped his hands together. “Perfect, mine as well. Meet you in the courtyard?”

He said nothing but made a noise of assent, and this was enough for Hythlodaeus.

“Good, see you later then, my friend!”

The sight of his friend’s retreating back was not the huge relief that he’d hoped, but at least now he could make a better attempt at reading emails than with Hythlodaeus there pestering him. Not that it was going much better now than it was before...His only solace was the fact that the day would soon be over, there would be alcohol in his body, and then he could finally say that he’d made an attempt and finally box up the matter and put it away.

The end of the day could not come soon enough; his last meeting of the day unfortunately required him to be functional as it was one he’d organized himself to go over mitigation plans for upgrades to certain infrastructure that weren’t going as well as they’d hoped. By the end of it, he felt ready to strangle everyone and everything and must have looked it judging by the speed at which the meeting room had cleared out. He was quite ready now for food and especially alcohol, though he was perhaps less ready for Hythlodaeus’ impending interrogation.

Soon he was down in the courtyard in the orange light of the setting sun, making his way toward their usual meeting spot near the south entrance. Hythlodaeus was already there, busy with a text conversation on his phone from what Solus could see as he drew near. “Ah, there you are!” Hythlodaeus said brightly. “Shall we go to our usual place?”

When Solus nodded in silent agreement, Hythlodaeus smiled and the pair of them set off for the tram stop. Hythlodaeus chattered about things of no consequence as they got onto the tram—or rather, chattered about things he knew Solus would find amusing but need not respond to—which included a nervous intern continuing to make messes of things in the kitchen (coffee grounds on the floor a second time) and a recording of a test run of a self-driving car and the improved collision avoidance heuristics that one of Hythlodaeus’s teams had worked on (the car hit a fake pedestrian almost immediately).

Hythlodaeus was not disheartened by the car’s performance, though, and indeed was quite pleased because the fake pedestrian had been thrown into the car’s path very suddenly, and it had to make the difficult decision to either hit the thrown one or swerve into pedestrians on the pavement. It chose to hit the thrown one, and did not lock up nor swerve so badly that it hit all the pedestrians. The safety driver inside, however, had to seize control because the car evidently could not recover from the shock of killing a fake person and was driving erratically toward a crowd of real persons (the tech crew) off to the side.

This story lasted long enough for them to go the two stops into the outer edges of Downtown Mor Dhona, where they got off and made their way to a small Nagxian restaurant that over the years had become one of their regular after-work haunts. There was nothing particularly outstanding about the restaurant, and in fact the reason they liked to go there was because it wasn’t outstanding. The food was good in an unremarkable sort of way and the restaurant itself was old and dirty, but after 5 PM all drinks and appetizers were a decent handful of gil off and better yet, they were unlikely to run into anyone from work. The friendly Au Ra woman who typically bartended in the evening was inexplicably fond of them, and it was she who greeted them with a cheerful wave when they entered the bar area and found their usual seats on the far corner of the bar.

“Ale today?” she asked, smiling as she set glasses of water down in front of them

“No, old fashioned, please,” said Solus heavily as he shrugged out of his jacket, and the bartender let out a small laugh.

“Long day today, eh?” she said in obvious amusement before she looked to Hythlodaeus. “You?”

“Thanalan ale, if you’d be so kind. And two orders of fish balls, please.”

Hythlodaeus continued his retelling of the self-driving car mischief while the bartender was getting their drinks, which didn’t take long at all since they were the only people present apart from a lone man on the other end of the bar. And with alcohol now in hand and the cursory first sips taken, Hythlodaeus shifted in his seat to better face him and grinned.

“So, how did coffee go?”

Solus took a big sip from his drink and crossed his arms. “Like I said earlier, it was fine.” And after a brief silence, he added, “We talked about games mostly, and machine learning.”

“That certainly sounds like a nice time, so why the drama earlier?” Hythlodaeus asked reproachfully. Solus let out an irritated sigh and looked away.

“You know perfectly well what I do in my off time, which is almost nothing. And the more she talked about hobbies, the clearer it became that I had none.” He took another sip from his drink. “I suspect she found me incredibly dull.”

Hythlodaeus chuckled and took a sip of his ale. “You are many things, my friend, but I wouldn’t say dull is one of them.” He took another sip of ale, a hint of a smirk on the corner of his mouth.

“Well, it’s no matter. It’s done.”

He frowned into his drink when Hythlodaeus chuckled again.

“Giving up so easily? You’ve not even sent a follow-up email.”

At that, Solus snorted. “Follow-up email. How formal.”

Hythlodaeus snickered and rapped him on the arm with the back of his hand. “You know what I mean. It’s only polite, don’t you think?”

Solus rest his elbows on the bar and peered at Hythlodaeus over his shoulder in suspicion. His friend was being terribly persistent about the matter—it had been weeks since this entire thing started, and he would have expected Hythlodaeus to be bored of pestering him about it by now. He must know something or have some other reason to keep this up…

“Are you sure it’s not you who fancies her?” Solus asked, arching an eyebrow. “Shall I introduce you?”

Hythlodaeus laughed. “Well, I’d not complain about knowing someone like her. Unlike certain people who shall remain unnamed.”

“How about I email her right now, then?” said Solus, pulling his phone from his back pocket, and for full effect he even tapped into the email app as he held his phone up and waggled it at Hythlodaeus.

And because he couldn’t not look at his email, he caught a brief glimpse of the newest items in his inbox and froze mid-waggle when his end-of-day brain finally processed what he’d seen. With muted dread he steeled himself for the inevitable as he tapped into the offending email—

—and let out his breath in a small “oh.”

From: Annaiette Verdeleaux
To: [email protected]
Subject: Re: #LEYLINES Ishgard Conference

Hi again,

I had a nice time at lunch today, thanks again for the sandwich and the conversation!

You left so suddenly that I wasn’t sure if me nearly punching the waitress was the straw that broke the chocobo’s back and you were just biding your time to escape.

In the off chance that you’re willing to risk further violence in my presence, it might be best not to leave a paper trail so here’s my cell number:

206 557 6261

Text me (or don’t, that’s fine as well) 😄

- Annaiette

He was much too old for mere words to paralyze him with the loud beating of his heart—much too old for words to draw a burning heat to his skin—much too old for this nonsense that was more suited to people twenty years younger—

And yet like a young fool he sat transfixed by the simple words in the glowing rectangle in his hand.

“What is it?”

Hythlodaeus’ voice pierced through the wall of thoughts that had screeched to a halt at the edges of his mind.

“Nothing,” was his immediate knee-jerk reaction as he pressed the lock button on his phone. He gave Hythlodaeus a sidelong glance and found him leaning casually against the bar counter, head cocked to one side with his chin resting on his palm and a knowing grin on his face. Solus immediately turned away and brought his drink to his lips as he tried to rein in the warmth on his face.

“Nothing,” Hythlodaeus repeated flatly. The grin was obvious in his voice.

“She gave me her number,” Solus murmured into the rim of his glass.

The raucous laugh that came out of Hythlodaeus was both supremely irritating and somehow reassuring.

“See, that turned out nicely, didn’t it?” he chuckled before giving Solus a light, playful push on the shoulder. “I should hope that you’ll not require an additional two weeks and an equal number of meltdowns to send one text message.”

“Do you ever stop? I don’t know why I spend time with you,” Solus said, this time with the mock irritation familiar between the two of them.

And despite his best efforts, he couldn’t stifle the smile on his lips as he downed the rest of his drink.

Solus: Good evening, Solus here. I was given this number to evidently throw off the paper trail

Annaiette: Oh hi! Still quite the risk-taker, I see

Solus: I long for the thrill of violence, apparently

Annaiette: Well good! That’s what this number is for

Solus: What sort of violence did you have planned?

Annaiette: There’s this leftover pie that has been giving me the stinkeye all evening

Solus: Well, don’t let me keep you. Show the pie what happens when it crosses you

Annaiette: ᕦ(ò_óˇ)ᕤ

The weekend’s arrival was a welcome relief. Solus’ work somehow doubled in the tail end of the week, and by the end of it he was utterly exhausted. He supposed it was due in some part to the work involved in his proposed plans to salvage the infrastructure upgrades that had gone just sideways enough to cause problems, but the botched upgrades had not been his fault so at least there was that. He did concede that he really ought to have foreseen the project’s near-failure, but the plan had been sound on paper and he’d foolishly trusted that it would also prove to be sound in execution.

This exhaustion was, however, slightly mitigated by the somewhat regular text conversations he had with Annaiette. He’d sent the initial text at Hythlodaeus’ urging the night they went out for drinks (the deed was helped along by the two additional and unusually strong drinks they’d both consumed), and though he had never been one for idle chatter, he found himself inexplicably engrossed in their conversations when they were essentially just that.

Solus yawned as he poured himself a cup of coffee.

On weekends he tended to sleep in so long that his morning coffee was more akin to lunchtime coffee, and today was no exception. He sat at the island countertop in his kitchen, sipping his almost-lunchtime coffee in the almost-noon light as he lazily scrolled through the day’s tech news—nothing interesting save for an article about a laughably awful crowdfunding campaign for some “holographic” phone that idiot so-called journalists were touting as the future of phones or some such nonsense.

But when the interesting articles were spent, he sat silently in his chair in his equally silent kitchen. The longer he sat, the more acutely aware he became of the fact that he was sitting alone in his sleep clothes on the weekend with no interesting plans to speak of. It was a fact that had once bothered him but had over the years faded into the background noise.

But now, for the first time in a very long time, he found himself confusingly restless.

And for the first time in a very long time, he decided he ought to try doing something about it.

I thought I might go to Revenant’s Toll to eat. Would you like to join me?

He pointedly looked away from his phone and busied himself with his coffee and was deeply relieved that Hythlodaeus was not here to see him.

It was perhaps ten minutes later when he received a response.

I’d love to but I had plans today. Sorry :(

He was in the process of deflating when further messages came in.

Wait you might have fun

I’ll ask if it’s ok, one moment

And a few minutes later:

Do you want to come to Silvertear State Park? My friends said it’s fine if you come

They’re doing a test run of some new tech! It’ll be fun

That certainly piqued his interest.

Solus: Sure, that sounds interesting

Annaiette: Great! Meet you at Silvertear Park main gate at 2? There's an express train that goes straight there if you don’t want to drive

Annaiette: And wear something comfortable! We’re not hiking but it might be hiking-adjacent

Solus: So some form of walking. I shall leave my flying shoes at home then

Annaiette: Flying for next time!

Solus didn’t particularly care to drive today, least not to Silvertear since the highways leading there were a single lane in each direction and very prone to traffic jams. With a glance at the time, he tapped into his map app to look up train routes to the Silvertear main gate. The main gate was the only gate served by the light rail network, as it was where events such as concerts were held—all other gates to leading to trailheads and campgrounds required driving or busing. And it seemed he’d arrive right on time if he made it out of his home within the next hour.

He quickly finished his coffee and took shower, and soon was sitting on the tram to Revenant Station, which was by far the largest of the transit hubs in Mor Dhona and was where most of Mor Dhona’s rail lines converged. Most of his time on the tram—and then subsequently the express train—was spent trying not to think too hard about just what Annaiette had meant by “hiking-adjacent.” He was not wildly out of shape but he certainly didn’t exercise with enough regularity in recent times...And so to carefully ignore the slight anxiety of uncertainty, he spent his time speculating just what sort of tech she and her friends were testing in the state park. It was sure to be something small—an app or a remote-controlled device, perhaps. Maybe even something involving augmented reality...

The train arrived just before 2, and with some creeping anxiety that he was carefully ignoring, Solus stepped off and cast his eyes up and down the platform in search of Annaiette. He wondered if she’d been on the same train the whole time or if she was already at the park, but there was no sign of her among the disembarking passengers. With his hands tensed into fists in his pockets, he made his way out the station and toward the Silvertear main gate.

As the gate came into view, he saw the silhouette of the familiar Elezen standing on the pavement just beside the vehicle entrance, bobbing on the balls of her feet and scanning the street in his direction. She quickly caught sight of him and waved, to which he returned the gesture in kind. His chest twinged as his heart skipped a beat—he let out a cough to alleviate the discomfort and for a brief moment he felt a small measure of concern that he hadn’t had enough water today.

“Hi there!” Annaiette said brightly when he arrived at the gate. “You certainly look comfortable.”

“You did say to wear something comfortable. Unless you meant ‘business comfortable,’ in which case I am woefully underdressed,” Solus said with a smirk.

She let out a loud laugh. “In all honesty, I was expecting you to show up in slacks and dress shoes like at the zoo,” she said, grinning as she turned to lead him into the park. “Color me impressed.”

“The slacks and shoes at the zoo were simply because I didn’t care to pack more shoes,” he explained as he fell in step with her. “This is what I wear when I don’t need to be at the office. Such as now, for hiking-adjacent activities.”

He supposed his clothing was a departure from the business casual clothing he’d been wearing all the other times she met with him. Rather than the stuffy clothes he typically wore to work and work-related functions, his normal weekend attire generally consisted a very comfortable pair of tapered jogging pants, some manner of loose-fitting shirt and hoodie, and a pair of running shoes that he really ought to do more running in. There was no real dress code enforced at AnyderSoft apart from “wear clean clothes and don’t walk around barefoot”, but he found over the years that he was much more intimidating when dressed nicely, which in turn made his job just slightly easier.

“I like your priorities,” she laughed. “Clothes that would be good for a workout and a nap.”

“Would that I had the energy to work out in addition to nap,” he said with an air of tongue-in-cheek weariness, to which she grinned.

“Is that so? Could’ve fooled me.”

Something about her words tweaked at his brain but he wasn’t sure what to make of it. So instead, he said, “You look quite comfortable yourself. Seems that you have the selfsame priorities.”

“You can’t do hiking-adjacent activities without being comfortable, obviously,” she replied with a sage nod. Her particular brand of comfortable meant a slim shirt and cropped running leggings, it seemed, and he couldn’t help but take note of just how long they made her legs look—

“Obviously,” he said lightly after pushing the thought away.

They were walking through the near-empty parking lot now—the only vehicle parked there was a lone pickup truck hitched to an empty flatbed trailer near the picnic area. And off in the rocky unpaved area past said picnic area were the silhouettes of a couple men, some sort of small...pet?...and a large mechanical something nearly the size of a car.

Solus’ eyes widened in surprise when they neared and it became clear that the large mechanical something was in fact a spider-like robot that seemed to be in the midst of calibrating itself.

“Ah, you’re finally back, Annaiette. Right on time for the main attraction!” said the taller of the two men, who turned out to be a blond Garlean with a very self-assured smile—one which quickly changed to something more akin to shock when he caught sight of Solus at Annaiette’s side. “This is your friend?” he sputtered. “Why didn’t you say you were bringing Solus Galvus?”

The other man—shorter but stockier with silvery hair—glanced up from the control device in his hands and took a step back in equal shock.

“Oh—erm—is Solus Galvus not allowed?” Annaiette laughed nervously. “Do you know each other?”

There was a brief silence while the two men visibly composed themselves.

“It is certainly allowed for Solus Galvus to witness the brilliance of my work,” said the taller one finally with a grin.

“Our work, Nero,” said the other.

“Let’s not quibble about the details, Garlond,” said Nero, dismissing his words with a wave of his hand before rounding on Annaiette. “While he may be a mere ‘what’s his face’ to you, Annaiette, apart from the incredibly obvious, everyone in the engineering programs at GarTech knows Solus Galvus.”

Solus looked to Annaiette questioningly and her eartips went slightly pink.

“Allow me to introduce myself,” Nero continued, extending a hand to him. “Nero Scaeva.”

He shook Nero’s hand and the other one extended his hand in turn. “Cid Garlond,” he said with an almost embarrassed smile that betrayed his exasperation with his friend.

After Solus shook Cid’s hand, he heard a loud KWEH below and found the smallest chocobo he had ever seen looking up at him with a wing outstretched. This little chocobo had the distinction of also being the first little chocobo he had ever seen wearing a jacket—a white and blue little thing that was very well made and fit perfectly.

“And this is Alpha,” Cid added.

He peered down at the waiting chocobo.

“He wants to shake your hand,” Annaiette said when Solus gave her another questioning glance.

“Ah.”

Solus wasn’t quite sure how to shake a chocobo’s wing, so he tentatively grasped a pair of Alpha’s outstretched feathers between his fingers and gave them a gentle shake. This appeared to be more than acceptable to the little chocobo, who let out a trill and a KWEH and excitedly trotted around them.

“Cid and Nero are here to do some rough terrain testing,” said Annaiette brightly.

“What you see here is Omega Mark IV,” Nero said proudly without missing a beat, stepping toward the spider-like robot as though on cue and sweeping his arm out with a flourish. “Second to none in quadrupedal locomotion, capable of carrying four hundred ponze over any conceivable terrain.”

“‘Any conceivable terrain’ is a bit generous. We’re here to test the newest iteration on rough terrain, after all,” Cid interjected. If Solus wasn’t mistaken, he heard a hint of warning in Cid’s voice—he suspected that Cid didn’t wish to oversell the robot in his presence.

“Impressive,” Solus said with interest as he looked over the robot. It was quite obviously a prototype construction and so wasn’t the prettiest, but all its parts were expertly machined and maintained, and the cables that were visible were very carefully arranged and secured. Now that it had finished its calibrations, it sat motionless, presumably awaiting input from the controller in Cid’s hands.

“It will be far more impressive once you see it in action,” Nero said loftily before rounding on Cid. “Let’s not keep him waiting, Garlond!”

“Wait, where’s the camera?” Annaiette said suddenly. “I thought I was supposed to film the test for you.”

“That’s right! Good thinking, my friend,” Cid said. He took a moment to rummage through a duffel bag by his feet, pulling out a small camcorder and passing it to Annaiette. She flipped the screen out and studied it for a moment before a grin spread over her face.

“Nero remembered to charge it this time.” She raised her eyebrows at the offending engineer, who grinned and held a finger up with a small flourish.

“But of course! Today’s test deserves nothing less than my full attention!”

Cid let out a disgruntled sigh. “And the last one didn’t, I suppose.”

His exasperation lasted but a moment, though; a second later he straightened up and adjusted his grip on the controller in his hands. “Let’s get started. Annaiette, ready?”

“Ready! Rolling on 3!”

Annaiette began counting down and when her countdown reached 1 she gave a silent nod.

“Welcome to Omega Mark IV rough terrain test,” Nero announced for the camera, holding up a finger with another flourish and a grin. “With version 0.2.4 of Scaevan onboard balance controller!”

Cid rolled his eyes at Nero’s words without taking his eyes off the tiny screen on the controller. “Starting test 1 at minimum speed over rocky, moderately loose terrain,” he said as he flipped a switch on the controller and pressed a button. With a dramatic series of beeps—an almost melodic crescendo which Solus was absolutely certain that Nero was responsible for despite knowing the man for all of five minutes—the Omega Mark IV whirred into life, lifting its underbelly off the ground with an ease that belied its apparent weight.

Soon Omega was off with a slow, steady gait, the sounds of its motors filling the air as it navigated the rocky terrain. It was impressive just how smooth its movements were, and even more so how it managed to correct itself with each slip of the foot or shift of the rock. Annaiette followed it with the camera with Alpha following quite seriously just behind her—as seriously as a chocobo could, in any case. The robot went perhaps twenty yalms out before Cid had it turn around and come back, which it did flawlessly.

When Annaiette stopped filming, Nero wasted no time in turning to Solus and asking quite eagerly, “What do you think?”

“The balance correction is quite impressive, I must say.”

Nero looked positively gleeful. “This is nothing—wait until we really put it through its paces!”

The tests pushed the robot progressively faster, and Solus was fascinated with how well it was handling the terrain. It slipped and fell only when Cid pushed it to what Solus supposed was the upper bound of speed for the robot given the sounds of strain emanating from its motors, and even then it managed quite well and was able to pick itself up. It was obvious that Nero had his own concerns about how the robot was performing, though—every so often he muttered to himself and scribbled in a small notepad as he watched the robot walk.

Eventually the walking tests on the rocks concluded and it was time for them to start a series of tests on flat ground. It seemed that Annaiette was incredibly excited about this prospect and very eagerly went with Nero to get equipment from their truck, and they returned laden with large foam pads that appeared martial arts-related in nature and a pair of long sticks with towels lashed around one end. The towels gave the sticks a vague sort of glaive shape—were the sticks actually some manner of spear?

“What are these for?” Solus asked curiously when they dropped the pads and spears in a pile on the ground.

Annaiette picked up one pad and hefted it before gripping a thick strap on the back. “We borrowed these kick pads from the martial arts gym I train at. This is the part with the violence!” she said, and Solus inwardly laughed at her blindingly cheerful tone paired with the word ‘violence’.

He approached to examine the pads closer, and she held the pad’s backside out to show him the straps. “And what manner of violence will be occurring?” He gave her a wry smirk as he glanced up from the pads to meet her grinning face.

“You’ll see!” was her reply before trotting off to stand beside Omega. Nero stood on the other side of the robot just across from her and waved his own foam pad at Cid.

“We’re ready, Garlond!” he called.

As Omega evidently required no manual controls for this test, Cid was now on camera duty. He took his place a short distance from them and with a laugh in his voice that he was obviously trying to stifle, he announced, “Omega Mark IV impact recovery test 1: lateral impact. Whenever you’re ready, friends!”

“You can have the honor of the first blow, Annaiette!” Nero called.

Annaiette let out an unrestrained laugh and redoubled her grip on her pad. “You’re too kind, Nero!” She bent her legs slightly—it was obvious in how her muscles tensed that she was well-versed in the art of the physical—before she let out an almost guttural yell and leapt forward, throwing her entire body at Omega with the pad held against her side to shield her from the chassis. Solus watched in silent awe as Omega stumbled sideways from the force of her blow—he was shocked by how far it stumbled—but before Omega could fully recover it received a similar full-body blow on the opposite side from Nero, which sent it stumbling back toward Annaiette.

This continued for what must have been another six or seven rounds, with Omega performing very well until one blow from Nero at an awkward enough angle finally sent it to the ground. This victory of sorts—Annaiette certainly treated it like one and Solus couldn’t help but silently laugh—was short-lived, as Cid soon had them proceed to the next test, where Annaiette and Nero were to throw themselves at Omega from the same side at the same time. It was in this test where Omega faltered the most and appeared largely unable to recover from the pair’s forceful attacks. This went on for an additional six or seven rounds, until finally Cid deemed Omega’s impact recovery to be thoroughly tested.

“All right, that’s enough! Well done!” said Cid with an approving nod.

Nero and Annaiette let out sighs of relief and dropped the pads to the ground; they were both breathing heavily and by now had beads of sweat on their faces.

“It did beautifully this time,” Cid said excitedly. “I do think we need to fix the rotator joints, though. Did you notice them hitching at the extremes?”

“But of course, Garlond!” Nero replied, straightening up as best he could whilst he caught his breath. “The range of motion in the new joints still leaves something to be desired, which ought to be fixed by…”

Annaiette appeared at Solus’ side as Cid and Nero grew engrossed in the technicals of their Omega tests. “So what do you think? Did you like it?” she asked as she wiped the sweat from her face.

“A surprising amount of violence for a tech test, I must say,” Solus said, giving her a wry half-smile. “Certainly an enjoyable amount, in any case. You have my thanks.” A vague, nearly indistinct feeling about just how enjoyable it was drifted past, and though it was for but a moment it was disconcerting enough that he attempted to distract from it by adding, “Seems you enjoyed yourself as well. What did that poor robot do to deserve such savagery?”

A very serious, almost ominous look came over her and she put her hands on her hips. “You should have heard the things it was saying about Alpha. It had it coming,” she said darkly.

Her gray-blue eyes silently met his, her expression still gravely serious—but a moment later the corner of her mouth twitched and she tore her eyes away with a loud burst of laughter.

“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.” She had her gaze averted and he couldn’t see her face, but the smile was evident nonetheless.

They silently watched the two engineers still discussing—arguing?—by the idle Omega, upon which Alpha was happily perched.

     Solus soon found himself increasingly anxious as the silence stretched on; a voice in the back of his mind was needling him to take action, though he didn’t know what manner of action to take—

Annaiette suddenly wheeled around to face him with a bright grin on her face.

“Do you think you’re still up for food?” she asked.

     The voice was suddenly silent—his thoughts stalled—

“Certainly,” he replied, but he glanced over toward the engineers. “What about your friends?”

She let out a laugh. “They’re going to be like that for the rest of the day—as soon as they get back to the shop they’ll just be talking about all the data. Best to leave them to it unless you want to talk about Omega for the next four bells.”

As fascinating as the robot was, he wasn’t sure he wanted to spend the several bells of his short-lived weekend talking about it, least not with people he just met today.

“As exciting as that prospect sounds,” he drawled, his voice tinged with sarcasm, “I shall have to decline. Food, however, sounds like a good idea.”

Her eyes crinkled at his words.

“Great! We can go once Omega is all packed up.”

And as Annaiette ran off to collect the kick pads and the presumed spears that they never used, his heart skipped.

Solus let out a small cough.

Chapter Text

Here he was.

Here, sitting on the train back to Revenant’s Toll beside one Annaiette Verdeleaux.

They’d taken their leave of the two engineers (and Alpha and Omega) once the robot was safely strapped onto their flatbed trailer, though not before Nero very insistently told Solus that he was very much welcome to observe any future tests. Much to the exasperation of Cid, of course, but Cid said nary a word in protest. Cid did, though, offer them a ride back from Silvertear before realizing that they wouldn’t fit—according to Annaiette it would have been a tight squeeze with all the equipment in the truck cab that wouldn’t be safe in the bed, and it had already been crowded when it was just her and Alpha in the back.

So here they were, sitting silently on the train as Annaiette watched the scenery outside go by with a thin smile on her face. Solus shifted slightly in his seat and did his best not to make his unease obvious; he’d taken a seat by the window without thinking and found that despite the handful of empty seats in the vicinity, she elected to sit in the one beside him. He couldn’t be sure if this was to be polite since they were traveling together, or if for some godsforsaken reason she wished to—

“So, did you have somewhere to eat in mind?” he asked as the train slowed at its next stop.

Two more stops until Revenant Station.

Annaiette chuckled. “I hadn’t actually thought that far.” She peered up at him, her head cocked just so. “Anything you’re craving?”

“Nothing particularly.”

She crossed her arms, drumming her fingers on a bicep as she presumably considered their many options.

“How about dumplings?” Annaiette asked finally.

“I’ll not say no to a good dumpling.” He smirked and gave her a sidelong glance. “Assuming they are good dumplings.”

“Well, as it happens, you’re in luck,” she retorted, and an almost roguish smile appeared on her face. “Assuming you have good taste.”

Solus was momentarily stunned by the cheek of this woman—there were few people with the brazen audacity to speak to him as such—but the noise that came out of his mouth was not one of displeasure but one of amusement. “We shall see,” he said wryly as he settled back into his seat with a small laugh.

It wasn’t long until the train arrived at Revenant’s Toll and they stepped off into the weekend hustle and bustle of the station. Annaiette clearly frequented the station as it took her but a moment to find her bearings and decide which of the many exits to use—immediately she set off, peering at him over her shoulder to presumably make sure he was not lost to the crowd. He quickly realized, however, that she was leading him in the opposite direction of what many would consider the center of the Revenant’s Toll neighborhood.

“Where is this dumpling place?” Solus asked when they stopped at a corner to wait for a crossing light. She gestured vaguely down the street.

“It’s a bit further down—it’s not in the trendy part of Revenant’s Toll,” she explained as she bobbed on the balls of her feet. “It’s not very fancy but it’s not as though fancy ambience will make the dumplings taste any better.”

She peered at him when she finished speaking, and he caught the subtle flicks of her eyes as they studied his face. Was she testing him?

Fortunately for her (or for himself? he couldn’t be sure), he didn’t give half a damn.

“There are times for so-called ‘fancy ambience’ and times where one just wants dumplings in one’s stomach.” He shrugged a small shrug to emphasize the lack of damns that he gave.

A grin spread across her face just as the crosswalk light changed and they continued on their way. “Well, I hope this is one of those times,” she said with a wry laugh.

She led him a few blocks down, where the storefronts and even the street itself seemed more run down than the trendy part of Revenant’s Toll that most people thought of when they heard the name. Eventually she found the restaurant she was looking for: a Doman place that had a dated, fading storefront and a simple and perhaps slightly dirty interior, and was very packed and very busy despite their awkward, slightly-too-early-for-dinner arrival. It was then that it became abundantly clear that Annaiette knew what she was talking about and it was then that Solus knew that these dumplings were sure to be at least good, if not better.

Despite how crowded the restaurant was, it seemed there were still a smattering of small tables available—they were seated almost immediately at a small table for two near the window, menus in hand with a small pot of tea between them. “I like coming here,” Annaiette said as she scanned the menu. “Haven’t been in a long while.”

Solus opened the menu himself and found it wasn’t terribly long. “What would you suggest, then?” he asked.

“Well,” she began, leaning toward him to point at things on his menu, “can’t go wrong with these! Two orders and maybe some vegetables should be good for two people, unless you’re really hungry.” She paused for a moment as though calculating some equation in her head, before she grinned. “Better make it three orders. All that violence made me hungry.”

“I shall leave it to you then, as you seem to know what you like,” Solus said, and a silent laugh escaped his chest.

“Are you allergic to anything?”

The prudence and consideration of the question took Solus by surprise.

“No.”

“Great!” she said brightly, and she wasted no time in flagging down a waiter to make their order. It was admittedly amusing, but judging by the busy energy in the place, it was certainly not the sort of place to take half a bell to decide what to order and then another three eating it. Not that he was really one for those sorts of dinners; there were times where he was strongly encouraged (required) to attend business dinners, and more often than not he found himself wishing for the sweet embrace of death after the second hour of wine and businessman posturing.

Her eyes met his as she turned back after speaking with the waiter, and the corners of her eyes crinkled before she turned her attention to the teapot. “Tea?” she asked. He nodded and pushed his teacup toward her.

“So tell me,” he began as she poured the tea, “do your friends’ tech tests always involve so much...violence?”

“Not always,” Annaiette said as she finished pouring. “The early tests didn’t have much—Omega could hardly walk then. Nero told me he pushed one of the early prototypes over and it broke all the servos in one leg.” She took another sip and let out a laugh. “Omega Mark IV walks just fine, as you witnessed today. So we hit it.”

Her tone was so matter-of-fact that Solus was only just able to stifle a laugh.

“Ah. The poor robot finally masters walking and is immediately beset by bloodthirsty engineers. I never expected such cruelty out of you.”

The grave look came over her again.

“Like I said, you didn’t hear the things he said about Alpha.” The grin quickly reappeared on her face. “So what was that about everyone at GarTech knowing Solus Galvus? Nero was certainly excited.”

“I went to GarTech in the distant past,” Solus said, smiling into his teacup before taking a sip. “And because GarTech alumni helped found AnyderSoft, naturally they wish for it to be their success as well. They invite me to speak there every so often, and when AnyderSoft was still headquartered in Garlemald, they had me give seminars maybe one term a year.” But as soon as the words left his mouth, regret washed over him; he was surely making his age quite obvious now—

“You only continue to surprise,” Annaiette said with her eyebrows raised in what Solus hoped was awe. “Makes me wonder what you’re doing hanging around with little old me.”

There was something in her voice—a hint of anxiety, perhaps—that only amplified the feelings of regret.

“The violence, remember? It was your idea, after all,” Solus said lightly, and for good measure he gestured at her with his teacup.

“Well, I am a simple person, Mr. Galvus,” she said, drawing herself up with her chin up in a stately manner. “People ask me to hit things, and then I hit them.”

“Well, Ms. Verdeleaux, I shall remember this the next time I have something that requires hitting,” said Solus with a smirk, and the thought of Hythlodaeus and his insufferable, smug smile drifted through the back of his mind.

Her laugh, quieter indoors but no less effusive, somehow cut through the din of the restaurant.

A silence stretched between them as they sipped their tea. Out of the corner of his eye, Solus could see Annaiette’s thumbs drumming against the rim of her teacup.

The drumming of her thumbs stopped.

“I’m glad you were able to come,” Annaiette said finally. “I hope I didn’t interrupt any weekend plans or anything.”

Solus took care not to laugh at the preposterous idea that he might have had weekend plans.

“Ah, not only is she violent, but she is a ruiner of weekend plans,” Solus said airily. “Truly a menace—is there no one who can stop her?”

She let out a small sort of amusement. “I will ruin all the plans,” she laughed. “Even the gods can’t stop me—I’ll ruin their plans too.”

Just as Solus opened his mouth to respond in kind, a waiter appeared at the table to drop off a plate of the fattest dumplings that he had ever seen—they were full to bursting but the wrappers held their shape perfectly with nary a hint of leaking or tearing. He glanced up to Annaiette to gauge her reaction to these dumplings and stifled a laugh at her eagerness, which was amusing and fascinating both.

“What?” she asked when she realized he was watching her.

He wasn’t sure what, so he hastily but nonchalantly pulled nonsense from the aether and said, “Just waiting to see how you eat them, hero. You are the expert here, after all.”

“Oh, did I come off as competent earlier? My apologies, that wasn’t my intention,” she laughed wryly. But regardless, she held up a small carafe of what he presumed was soy sauce before pouring some into a little dish. “I’m no expert by any means, but you can’t go wrong with soy sauce. And vinegar.” She held up another carafe that had a sauce that was the same color as the first one—the only difference was that this carafe was slightly bigger. She then took a dumpling with her chopsticks and dipped it into the little dish. “And you dip it and then you put it in your mouth. I’m assuming you can take it from there.”

She grinned and bit into the dumpling before gesturing at the plate of dumplings with her free hand to urge him to eat. He required no further urging and took a dumpling—he found that it was just as weighty and juicy as it appeared and was perhaps one of the best he’d had in recent memory, something which certainly had nothing to do with the fact that he hadn’t eaten anything today but a slice of toast and a cup of coffee.

“It’s good,” Solus said once he finished the dumpling. Annaiette appeared just as hungry as she’d claimed and had already started on a second dumpling—she tried to smile just after biting into it and hastily pressed a napkin to her face when the dumpling juices threatened to escape.

“Good taste,” she said once she swallowed her mouthful and wiped her face. “So is this a time where you just want dumplings in your stomach, or did you need the fancy ambience after all?”

“I think the times where one simply needs dumplings outnumber the times where one needs fancy ambience by far.” He took another dumpling with a wry smile.

“When are those times when you need the fancy ambience?”

“When one must entertain pretentious executives with a taste for the ostentatious, for instance,” Solus said, sniffing with disdain.

Annaiette let out a small snort of laughter. “Oh? There’s clearly a story there. Or several.”

“Several,” Solus agreed, but he hesitated. He didn’t think the stories were terribly interesting — they were mostly about boring people using the company credit card at obscenely expensive restaurants to impress each other in lieu of having actual personalities.

“Do tell,” she said brightly.

And this was how Solus found himself telling a story from the earlier days of AnyderSoft when all of them were younger and stupider, when Nabriales got into an inane pissing contest with executives from Moogle at a fancy restaurant. He and their CIO spent an obscene amount of gil on appetizers alone as they attempted to one-up each other’s knowledge of food and travel; neither had particularly accurate knowledge of the things they were talking so confidently about, and neither would back down even when they realized they couldn’t stomach the taste of all the roe they had ordered. Watching them doing their damndest to keep it all down had been the silver lining of an otherwise unbearable evening.

“Wait, wait—!” Annaiette interrupted. She forced her mouthful down and gave him a look of cheeky disbelief. “What did he look like? Show me that face again,” she laughed.

“I’m afraid if you missed it the first time, you’re out of luck,” Solus said with a smirk.

“It was such a good face, though! Come on, once more...?” Annaiette clasped her hands together, her eyes pleading. When he didn’t respond, she redoubled her efforts and added, “Are the puppy eyes working?”

Solus was silent a moment longer for dramatic effect before he shrugged in feigned, begrudging defeat. “Once more then. Do pay attention this time.”

And once more he mustered his best approximation of Nabriales’ face that night.

Annaiette’s cackling laughter filled the air.

He quietly smiled at the sight of her and let out a small cough as he took another dumpling.

The entirety of Leve was ready to hurl their computers through the window.

Which they didn’t do, of course, because replacing computers and repairing broken windows cost quite a lot of money. They did, however, commiserate in this shared fantasy whilst they loudly and irately dealt with the latest in a series of wrenches their cloud platform service threw at them this morning.

“I thought they weren’t doing the IP changeover for another moon yet,” Moenbryda grumbled.

Annaiette let out a frustrated grumble in kind. Their cloud platform service—which they paid a decent and not-inconsequential amount of money to use—had reconfigured some key systems that they relied on without warning. Or perhaps even worse than “without warning,” it was with a warning that turned out to be bollocks anyway, because Bismarck just inexplicably did the changeover and suddenly added a handful of headache-inducing limitations regardless of all the users who now had to scramble to put their services right.

It hadn’t taken them long to slap a bandage on the issue and get everything up and running once they figured out just what it was that Bismarck did to them, but the bandage was not a real solution, nor did they wish to put forth the effort to develop the real solution when they weren’t certain if Bismarck was going to roll the change back or not.

“Why does this always happen right after the weekend?” Coultenet groaned, leaning back as far as he could over his chair backrest. “What is wrong with them?”

Annaiette had been wrestling with just what was wrong with Bismarck for some time now; the service was acceptable and the support was acceptable, but they were making increasingly questionable decisions this past year that made her seriously wonder if they ought to change platforms. It would be expensive but hypothetically would get them better support in return and be more cost effective should they need to scale up further. Y’shtola and Moenbryda glanced at her searchingly; as a team, they’ve had conversations about this dilemma since last year and they had already done the preliminary research into how much it would cost in both money and dev resources to make such a change…

“Changing platforms is trivial.”

All eyes slowly turned to Y’shtola.

“I can get it done in a week. Should you decide which platform to switch to, of course,” Y’shtola said, the hint of a self-assured smile on her face as one of her ears subtly twitched. There was almost a challenge in her voice—the familiar tone of a woman who would get things done if only people would make up their minds.

Hadn’t they talked about how much work it would be? Months and months of it?

But it was Y’shtola, after all. She was completely confident in her words and naturally appeared more annoyed than concerned by everyone else’s abject disbelief.

“We did run the numbers,” Coultenet murmured thoughtfully. “It wouldn’t be awful to switch to AnyderSoft or Moogle Cloud, and either will have much better support.”

“If it’s all the same to you, I’d prefer we go with Moogle Cloud,” said Y’shtola, crossing her arms. “AnyderSoft tech is certainly more powerful but their management tools ought to be pitched into the Indigo Deep.”

Annaiette stifled a laugh but could not stifle a grin. “Let’s have a chat with Minfilia and Tataru to go over the budget once more, then,” she said, scooting her chair back to her desk to examine her calendar. This, as it often did, signaled that the Coworker Gathering was coming to a close: Coultenet and Hoary Boulder got up and made for the kitchen, while Riol scooted his chair back to his own desk on the other end of the room.

“Y’shtola, do you want to come to the meeting?” Annaiette asked.

“No.”

She stifled another laugh before turning to Moenbryda. “Moenbryda?”

“I’ll come,” Moenbryda replied. After a moment, Annaiette felt eyes on her and turned to see what the problem was, only to find that Moenbryda had leaned in with a roguish smile on her face. “Think you could get What’s His Face to get us a discount if we went AnyderSoft instead? I’m sure that coffee chat went well, hm?”

“What? Hah—I—” Annaiette’s voice came out in a burst of nervous laughter before she managed to rein in her composure. “Of course, and I’ll tell him we think the management tools are awful as well, I’m sure he’d be quite happy to personally fix that for us.”

“While you’re at it, tell him to fix the convoluted mess it is to set up custom environment parameters,” came Y’shtola’s voice from the other side of Moenbryda’s desk.

Annaiette and Moenbryda looked to each other in momentary disbelief, and a moment later snickered at the dry but somehow incredibly cheeky tone of Y’shtola’s words.

And soon their snickers soon turned into full-blown laughter—Y’shtola even had a small smile whilst she worked at what must have been double speed—and the stresses of the day slowly melted away.

Hythlodaeus sipped his tea and smiled.

He hadn’t looked at their old repo in many, many years, and it was just as good as he remembered.

Commits on 17th 6UM, 1558 6AE

Emet-Selch committed 20 years ago
Refactored for proper inheritance because apparently I’m the only one with standards.

AZEM committed 20 years ago
Got grapes at the store today. Also, fixed whatever the hell fandaniel broke.

FANDANiEL committed 20 years ago
what hte hells, class missing propertes, added

pashtarot committed 20 years ago
added class

Commits on 16th 6UM, 1558 6AE

nabriales committed 20 years ago
dumb shite

Commits on 15th 6UM, 1558 6AE

Lahabrea committed 20 years ago
Added new parameters for locomotion, also including:
- Adjustments to vision processing to better handle obstructions in the periphery
- Fix to possible infinite loop in edge case
- Added mappings for observable joint order in walker
- Updates to readme to properly document recent updates to locomotion

Commits on 13th 6UM, 1558 6AE

Elidibus committed 20 years ago
updated Convocation contribution page

AZEM committed 20 years ago
Truly it is beautiful, that hour before the sun begins to ascend to its place, when the darkness begins to fade, when the world begins to stir. It is this hour which I treasure most, where one can step outside in the dewy air and breathe - truly BREATHE - and you take it in, and you feel it, and when you feel the world and all its connections and every soul on this star, you know that this machine you are nurturing is worthy of a place among us.

Basically: refactored the whole module, now almost 50% faster!

Loghrif committed 20 years ago
Fixed normalization function to avoid dividing by zero

Chapter Text

While Annaiette, Moenbryda, and Coultenet engaged Minfilia and Tataru about the financial and legal implications of changing their backend platform, Y’shtola had evidently been hard at work. Annaiette had only mild suspicions that something was happening; Y’shtola appeared perfectly normal and was completing her assigned tasks for this sprint right on schedule, perhaps even a little faster than usual. She was never sloppy no matter her speed so nobody had paid it any mind, except perhaps Tataru—Annaiette overheard her one afternoon as she walked by the kitchen, where Tataru had been asking Y’shtola if aught was amiss.

Eventually, it became obvious just what Y’shtola had been working so hard on.

One morning the day before the weekend, Y’shtola had arrived at the office, aloof as always but now with an almost glassy stare as she logged into her computer. Annaiette hadn’t thought anything of Y’shtola’s eyes in the days prior, but something about the dim light in the windows from today’s overcast morning made the bags under her eyes quite pronounced.

“I finished the first pass of the port to Moogle Cloud,” Y’shtola said.

She said it so offhandedly that at first her words didn’t register in Annaiette’s mind.

“Morning. You what?”

“I finished the first pass of the port to Moogle Cloud,” she repeated.

Annaiette blinked.

“Ah.”

She put her coffee mug down as the words sank in, then breathed deep and exhaled slowly. “You what?! How?” she exclaimed.

A thin smile. “As one normally does work: with a computer,” said Y’shtola dryly.

Annaiette would have laughed had she not been in the middle of reeling from this news. “But it’s only been a week!”

“I told you I could get it done in a week.”

“But where did you find the time?”

“I didn’t sleep.”

And these words, too, were so offhanded that it took a moment for their meaning to sink in.

“The port will be ready for further testing once you arrive at the decision to move to Moogle Cloud,” Y’shtola continued. “I am eager for the day that I may stop calling Bismarck support.”

If Y’shtola had been any other engineer, Annaiette might have been irritated by her presumptuous and almost arrogant cheek, but she knew Y’shtola well and knew she was very much in tune with the rest of the team—she would not push in this manner if they had been even the least bit hesitant about the swap. Her woes regarding Bismarck support, though, were largely self-inflicted: it was by her own volition that she tried to needle Bismarck support into fixing bugs despite Annaiette’s and Moenbryda’s insistence that while Y’shtola’s complaints were very much valid, Leve was not paying them nearly enough for them to give a damn.

“...Well done. I hope you get some rest this weekend,” Annaiette said with a small laugh of disbelief as she clicked into her email. There was a fleeting urge to grab her phone to tell a friend _{to tell Solus} about it, but she blinked the urge away; it wasn’t uncommon for Y’shtola to casually perform ludicrous feats of engineering, which her friends already knew very well.

A few bells after lunch after all her scheduled meetings were over with (one to go over the terms of the Bismarck contract and another with Coultenet and Hoary Boulder to discuss infrastructure), Annaiette and Moenbryda sat down with Y’shtola for a demo of her work, each with a warm beverage and a slice of homemade banana bread courtesy of Tataru.

“The port was relatively straightforward,” Y’shtola began after taking a sip of tea. “I ran into the most trouble dealing with the deployment pipeline, but even those issues were reasonably superficial. If you look here, you can see some dummy builds running...”

As Y’shtola talked, something drew Annaiette’s attention. “Just a moment. Those containers, what are they?” Annaiette said, indicating something on the screen.

“Ah. I took the liberty of containerizing those particular services for this test. It was somewhat of a mess—we should discuss how we’d like to do the real version.”

Annaiette exchanged a brief glance of disbelief with Moenbryda.

“As usual, you’ve outdone yourself,” Moenbryda said, grinning. “Do you think the actual migration will be a huge hassle?”

Y’shtola tilted her head in thought as she took another sip of tea. “No, no more than migrating to any other service,” she said finally. “There are some quirks to the configuration that might give us some trouble, but that’s to be expected. How fares the approval process?”

“Quite well, actually!” Annaiette replied brightly. “Next week we should go over our migration plan once more before we pull the trigger.”

“Good. I’ve just about had it with Bismarck.” Y’shtola’s ears flattened in abject disapproval as she brought up a colorful but imminently confusing screen. “Look at what they just rolled out. It took someone actual effort to make something this flashy and impractical.”

It seemed that Moenbryda hadn’t the slightest idea what it was either. She and Annaiette leaned in closer to examine the tiny text which, and Annaiette fought the brief urge to adjust her nonexistent glasses—she was wearing contacts today and still could barely read what was on the screen.

“What are we looking at here, Y’shtola?” Moenbryda asked slowly, her brow visibly furrowed.

“An image registry. It’s quite obvious, don’t you see?”

Annaiette squinted at the text. It was a colorful pseudo-3D image of a stack of rectangles with tiny text on it, and she couldn’t make heads or tails of what it was meant to be. Clearly it was some sort of color-coded hierarchy, but it was certainly not the most optimal way to present information.

“Ah, how could I have been so silly,” she laughed. “Yes. Clearly. An image registry.”

“Evidently a mere table was an insufficient method of communication.” Y’shtola’s voice was heavy with disapproval, at which both Moenbryda and Annaiette laughed.

“We live in modern days, Y’shtola! How can we settle for a mere table?” Moenbryda said with a loud, raucous laugh.

In an effort to not give herself a headache trying to make sense of the image registry or why anyone thought it was a good way to present information, Annaiette sat back in her chair and scooted herself back to her desk. She pulled her phone close out of reflex and peered at the handful of notifications that had arrived over the past bell.

Text from Solus: Would that my day was going as well as yours. Does your offer to hit things include people?

Kwehtr message from wespes: My friend has been awfully jumpy lately, I spooked him and he dropped his phone 😂

Enochat message from Alisaie 1: You doing anything tonight?

Enochat message from Alisaie 2: Want to get drinks?

She inwardly laughed at the one from Solus before swiping to open the Enochat messages from Alisaie. It had been quite a while since Annaiette had spent time with her, and drinks at the end of the week were always very welcome indeed.

“Moenbryda, Y’shtola, Alisaie wants to know if you want to go out with us tonight,” Annaiette announced after a brief exchange with Alisaie.

“Where to?” Moenbryda asked, obvious interest in her voice.

“That izakaya in Revenant’s Toll, the one with the shochu cocktails.”

A knowing laugh came from Moenbryda. “Ahh, so it’s that kind of night, is it?” she said with a grin. “Count me in. Mind if Urianger comes along?”

Annaiette stared silently at her phone for a moment—Alisaie had been typing whilst Moenbryda was speaking. “Bring him and Thancred if they want to join, she says,” Annaiette replied when Alisaie’s messages finally arrived. She leaned to the side to peer around Moenbryda at Y’shtola. “Y’shtola?”

She half-expected Y’shtola would refuse—she looked exhausted, after all—but was pleasantly surprised to find Y’shtola nodding. “I’ll come. I could use a drink or two after this week.”

Moenbryda let out another knowing laugh. “Oh, I’m sure. So what time did Alisaie want to meet?”

“Half five. So we ought to get going soon.”

When her coworkers nodded and turned back to their computers to finish up the last of their work, Annaiette instead turned back to her phone. She briefly opened Kwehtr to quickly send a laughing face to Wespes?, then the Messages app to do the same for Solus. But without so much as a thought she indulged the sudden urge to scroll up and to reread their silly conversation from earlier in the day, and she couldn’t help but smile at the ridiculous stupidity of it all. When she reached the newest message, it took no time at all for her brain and fingers to profuce another stupid response in lieu of the laughing face she had intended to send.

Annaiette: Finally fixed that bug I was stuck on for a week.

Annaiette: It turns out I’m an idiot

Solus: If bugs made us idiots, then I am perhaps the idiot emperor who built an empire upon them

Annaiette: Hahahahaha

Annaiette: Emperor, eh? Goodness, I’ve been terribly disrespectful. What should I call you?

Solus: Your Radiance will do nicely

Annaiette: Oh, very regal, 🌈✨Your Radiance✨🌈

Annaiette: Bug aside, it turned out to be a very good day because our CFO brought us banana bread

Solus: Would that my day was going as well as yours. Does your offer to hit things include people?

Annaiette: Oh? A request for violence?

Annaiette: And who has drawn the ire of the Emperor?

She inwardly snickered as she put the phone down and turned from the conversation with His Radiance and back to the emails in her inbox that she ought to address before leaving for the day. There was only enough time to answer one email and not even enough time for her phone to lock on its own before she caught sight of newly arrived replies in the periphery of her vision.

Solus: A so-called friend who skulks about after me to ask inane questions unrelated to work

Solus: Rather than, you know, doing his job.

Solus: The one we pay him to do.

Annaiette: I see, I see. Well, I can pencil something in for next week, my schedule is quite busy but I can certainly make room for 🌈✨Your Radiance✨🌈

Solus: Thank you

Her smile had widened to a grin as she sent off her latest reply, one that faded only slightly as she locked her phone and turned her attention back to her emails. That is, she attempted to turn her attention back to her emails; with the prospect of food and alcohol with Alisaie on the horizon and the vague warmth in the cheeks and chest that only marginally responded to her efforts to rub them away—mild embarrassment, perhaps, from the uncontrollable ridiculousness of her responses—she was unable to do much more than mark down which emails she would respond to first after the weekend.

“Are Urianger and Thancred coming?” Annaiette asked Moenbryda when she tired of her start-of-week to-do list.

“They are! They’ll meet us there.” Moenbryda’s eyes flicked down toward the corner of her monitor, before coming up to meet Annaiette with a roguish smile on her lips. “I think it’s time we go, eh? We’ll be packed into the trams if we wait too long.”

Annaiette didn’t need telling twice, and she all but leapt out of her chair as she slung her bag over her shoulder. She’d been tired all afternoon but she felt inexplicably excited now—she did love food but the sudden energy was confusing (but certainly not unwelcome). When Moenbryda and Y’shtola finished gathering their things and they were on their way to the station, she was evidently walking with enough bounce in her step that Moenbryda laughed and gave her a playful nudge with an elbow.

“Annaiette, you’re in a good mood.”

“Am I? I suppose I’m just looking forward to the food—we haven’t been there in a while,” Annaiette said with a grin and a shrug; admittedly, she wasn’t quite sure of her own words.

“That’s true. When was the last time we went?”

Moenbryda and Annaiette both fell silent as they tried to remember, but they didn’t need to rack their brains for too long—Y’shtola soon chimed in with hardly a look at them.

“We went the last time Papalymo came to visit.”

“That’s right!” Moenbryda exclaimed. “That was a long while ago.”

This was enough to uncover the memories of that time, where they foolishly thought it would be easy to drink him under the table. They spent the rest of their walk to the station laughing about how the older Papalymo had kept up with them as though it was naught and indeed held up far better than most of their little group—a fact which he made quite known. Very loudly. In the end, though, Minfilia had been the one who remained just sober enough to ensure that they wouldn’t be banned from the restaurant and that everyone made their way home safely.

The tram still had a smattering of empty seats when they got on—had they left the office any later, all the seats would have been full—and by the time they reached Revenant’s Toll, the tram was packed near to bursting. They didn’t so much as exit the tram as get swept out by the rush-hour crowd getting off at Revenant Station, and it was some amount of struggle fighting against the bulk of the crowd to get to the exit they needed. Annaiette wondered to herself when Mor Dhona had acquired so many people; it felt like just yesterday it was considered some quaint region out in the boonies, and one not associated with the tech companies it was presently known for.

The izakaya was only a few blocks away, so Annaiette quickly put the thoughts of Mor Dhona’s development aside in favor of thoughts of food. It wasn't long before they neared and found Alisaie, Thancred, and Urianger waiting outside the restaurant, Alisaie with her eyes down on her phone whilst Urianger and Thancred chatted beside her.

“Hey!” Moenbryda called.

“There you all are! About time!” Alisaie replied, grinning despite her familiar air of mild, muted disapproval—they were about a quarter bell late, after all—and she wasted no time in pulling the restaurant door open to usher them in.

The three of them had been waiting long enough that it wasn’t a much longer wait before they were seated at a large booth, Alisaie, Annaiette, and Y’shtola on one side and Moenbryda, Urianger, and Thancred on the other. “So what’s the occasion, Alisaie?” Annaiette asked once they were all settled in their seats. Alisaie let out a drawn-out noise of exasperation before snatching a menu from the end of the table.

“After the day I’ve had, I think I deserve some good food and especially some alcohol,” she said airily.

“That so?” Moenbryda laughed. “Tell us.”

Annaiette listened to Alisaie’s recounting of her awful day whilst she looked over the menu and made a mental tally of what dishes she wanted to order. Alisaie found her brother’s ideals in founding Leve to be far too lofty and intangible for her liking, and instead preferred to work directly with those in need at a local non-profit. Even if doing so meant sometimes having a day such as today, where there had been a logistical nightmare involving foodstuffs that had been unwittingly damaged enough that some had gone bad. They had managed to salvage a decent amount of it, but that victory had not come free. Evidently some cans were dropped and Alisaie had been absolutely covered by an explosion of spoiled beans.

“And I haven’t been able to get the smell of beans off my hands,” Alisaie concluded, crossing her arms with a small hmph.

She just finished her story in time for their first round of alcohol—a big carafe of pineapple shochu which Moenbryda quickly poured into the accompanying shot glasses. “To Alisaie’s shite day,” she announced after passing everyone a glass. She raised her own and held it toward the center of the table. “May she someday get the smell of beans off her hands!”

They all laughed—Alisaie included, though she made a noise of mock dismay to humor them—and clinked their shot glasses together with a spirited “Cheers!”

Soon their food arrived, and it wasn’t long before the alcohol had sufficiently loosened their tongues; the air among them was filled with their lively chatter, and it felt quite nice to be among friends despite the fact that Annaiette did more listening than talking since she was very busy eating (too many) little bacon-wrapped tomatoes and various kinds of offal (all made better by virtue of being on a stick).

And some time later—after another round of shochu and meat on sticks and popoto croquettes—Annaiette found Thancred leaning toward her with a roguish smile.

“I’ve got a story you might like, Annaiette,” he said.

Annaiette raised an eyebrow but leaned in nonetheless. “And what’s that?” she asked.

“I had quite the interesting passenger the other day. Picked him up from the airport, this tech person,” Thancred began, wrinkling his nose. Annaiette grinned; Thancred made some of his living by driving people around for the Mount rideshare service, and whenever he had a passenger story it was sure to be an entertaining one. “I take care of the usual pleasantries, asking how his flight was and where he’d come from and all that. It was the strangest thing—he’d apparently come from a vacation but he sounded a bit put out by it.”

“He was put out by a vacation? Did he not like it?” Alisaie asked with a confused frown.

“No, he enjoyed the vacation but was evidently coerced into taking it, which is what he took issue with.” Thancred leaned back and crossed his arms. “He seemed nice enough but there was something about him that made me uncomfortable. Couldn’t say why, though. Maybe his strange excitement about the wild horses.”

“What does this have to do with me?” Annaiette asked.

“As it happens, he was going to AnyderSoft HQ,” Thancred continued.

Annaiette was in the middle of bringing her glass to her mouth and stopped. “Er—and?”

“Well, when we arrived, there were a couple fellows waiting for him. One of them wouldn’t let my guy out—all but shoved him back into the car and said something about getting rest and revoking his access to R&D servers for a week,” Thancred said with a laugh. “The other one dropped a fistful of gil in the front seat and told me to take my guy home—it was three rides’ worth and the guy was willing once it was obvious he wasn’t going to be allowed to work.”

“I still don’t get what it has to do with me.”

Thancred’s smile widened ever so slightly. “Well, point is: I saw your date the other day. It was What’s His Face himself that gave me that gil,” he said, his voice light and almost singsong.

And in stark contrast to Thancred’s cool demeanor, Annaiette felt her face and ears warming. “Oh, did he? Hah—he’s not—it’s not like that—!” she sputtered, waving her hands.

Moenbryda let out a cackling laugh—much louder than usual, likely alcohol-fueled. “Not like that? Just friends, then?” She grinned and leaned in. “Don’t think for a moment that I don’t see you texting him during the day.”

Annaiette found herself laughing helplessly along as her heart pounded in her chest—her instinctive reaction to this sort of teasing was to sarcastically agree and simply laugh about it, but she was unexpectedly tongue-tied at the moment and stumbling uncontrollably over her words—

Alisaie refilled everyone’s shot glasses before holding up her own.

“To Annaiette and her certainly-not-a-date with What’s His Face!”

With her face burning and an inability to do anything but laugh, Annaiette raised her glass as the rest of the table let out a far-too-loud “Cheers!”

Solus yawned and scratched his stomach as he waited for his coffee to brew.

It was yet another uneventful weekend. A familiar, heavy listlessness bore down upon him; it took actual, real effort to get himself out of bed before 11 AM today, and now that he was up he didn’t know what to do. The week had been hellish; he spent nearly all his time helping others fight fires and hadn’t been able to actual do any of the things he’d planned to do. And so he brought his laptop home with the laughable idea that he’d get some work done, but he hadn’t any desire to do anything except perhaps lay on the couch and attempt to melt into nonexistence. The rational part of his brain told him that he really ought to not do that and instead make at least some sort of attempt at being a living, breathing being, but doing that meant doing things and he hadn’t the slightest idea what he wanted to do.

His eyes flicked to his phone sitting silently on the counter.

Some form of breakfast was probably a good idea, he supposed. He had a fleeting urge to just eat a slice of plain untoasted bread and call it done, but since he was already up and forcing himself to be a living, breathing being, he supposed he may as well put in the effort to toast it—perhaps he would even sort out his day whilst waiting. But he gleaned no wisdom from the toaster nor the bread within, and he soon found himself sitting sullenly with his coffee and toast and still quite unsure about what to do with himself for the day.

But while he reconsidered whether it was truly such a bad idea to simply lay on the couch and attempt to melt into nonexistence, his phone buzzed with a notification.

Annaiette: I don’t know why I decided to torture myself by running up and down a hill today, but here I am

Solus was both surprised and not by Annaiette’s message, though he admittedly wasn’t sure why he was still at all surprised by anything she did. He smiled regardless and unlocked his phone to reply.

Solus: To atone for a sin, obviously. What did you do?

Annaiette: I deployed at 6 pm before the weekend because I was sure it would be perfectly fine

Annaiette: It was not perfectly fine

Annaiette: Forgive me

Solus: Unforgivable

She didn’t respond and for a few tense minutes he wondered if his response had actually gotten to her.

Annaiette: Are 10 runs up a hill enough to atone for my transgressions

Solus: Hmm. It depends on the size of the hill

Annaiette: The big one in Centri

Annaiette: You know the bit of the Thaliak Trail that goes along 7th?

Solus blinked in disbelief.

That particular hill in Centri was a quarter-malm long with nearly 80 fulms of elevation gain

That particular hill in Centri was only a few blocks away from his home

Solus: I know that hill well

Solus: I live just a few blocks away, in fact

Annaiette: 😮

Annaiette: What a coincidence

The typing indicator went on—and on—and on—and he watched with increasing concern until finally the indicator disappeared. He wondered with dismay if this revelation had been the bad sort of coincidence—undoubtedly she was busy thinking up some reason to excuse herself from the immediate area and never return. In light of this inevitability, he locked his phone and put it aside before very pointedly turning his attention back to the coffee and toast and thoughts of napping on the couch.

He couldn’t, however, keep himself from immediately looking when his phone buzzed again.

Annaiette: Want to go to the farmer’s market with me?

Annaiette: I can meet you at the tram stop at the bottom of the hill

Annaiette: 😄

When his options for today were laying on the couch then subsequently hating himself for it and going outside to the farmer’s market with Annaiette, it wasn’t hard to make a decision. He wasted no time in replying and then getting ready to be out among people, and was soon outside and on his way to the tram stop.

It was a short walk to the tram stop, where Solus found Annaiette standing under the tram shelter, bobbing on her feet with a water bottle in hand as she looked out toward the street in search of him. Her eyes met his as he crossed the street, and a grin spread across her face as she threw her arm up and waved. He couldn’t stifle a small snort of amusement—the unsuspecting person next to her had been startled by her sudden movement and was side-eying her with a disgruntled frown.

“Good morning, sinner,” said Solus with a smirk when he arrived at her side. It seemed her runs up and down the hill had been quite the workout: her face was still flushed and her hair was somewhat disheveled, with her damp bangs brushed out of her face. He took care not to pay too close attention to the fact that her workout attire of choice was a pair of compression shorts, or that said shorts exposed so much leg—

“Morning!” she said with a laugh. She took a step away from him as she ran her fingers through her bangs to keep them out of her eyes. “Sorry, I’m a bit sweaty.”

“And who wouldn’t be after running up that hill ten times?” Solus said, glancing toward the hill rising up further down the street. “Do you feel sufficiently atoned?”

“Yes, I feel quite atoned now, thank you.”

She laughed, and he somehow felt it in his chest.

“So, do you often run around here?” he asked after letting out a small cough.

“Often enough!” she said brightly. “I like the trail quite a bit. Do you ever use it? Since you live so close to it and all.”

“Not as often as I should,” Solus admitted. This was technically not a lie; he’d gone on the trail exactly zero times, which is certainly not as often as he should be using it given its proximity. Fortunately, Annaiette appeared satisfied with this answer and nodded as she took a short drink from her water bottle. “How did that deployment turn out?” he asked when she was finished.

“I actually did that a couple weeks ago,” she said with a laugh. “This was a delayed atonement. But it was fine in the end—it just took me a couple hours to undo the dumb shite that I did.”

“I thought you knew better than that,” Solus said with a smirk. “How terribly disappointing.”

“Again, it was not my intention to come off as competent.” She arched her eyebrows at him and grinned. “Your expectations are the only disappointing thing here.”

Solus couldn’t keep the small burst of laughter from escaping his throat—a laugh of sheer disbelief at this incorrigible woman. Most wouldn’t have the audacity or even the nerve to be so friendly with the Solus Galvus, but she still didn’t seem to care in the least. He ought to have found her as irritating as he found Hythlodaeus and some part of him even wished to, but he found that he wasn’t anything except amused...He supposed it was because she didn’t seem to be doing it to get under his skin.

She laughed her bright, unrestrained, unrepentant laugh in response to his, and the sound of it was inexplicably contagious; for a few short moments they laughed at what amounted to absolutely nothing there at the tram stop, and though Solus felt like a right fool he couldn’t stop himself. Eventually they were overtaken by a silence made somehow comfortable by the last vestiges of their shared laughter, and it was in this comfortable silence that they stood until the tram arrived a couple short minutes later.

There were only a handful of open seats left in the carriage, and Annaiette sidled into the one forward-facing row that had a pair of empty seats before glancing up expectantly at him. He eased himself into the seat beside her without pressing against her, but despite his efforts he couldn’t avoid the brief brushes of contact with her arm and knee as she settled in and stowed her water bottle in her little backpack. The touch was as levin on his skin and it took careful control to smother his body’s reflex to completely recoil away.

“Sorry,” she said quickly when she realized he’d tensed and shifted an ilm away from her.

“Yes, how dare you take up your deserved space,” he said, forcing a wry smirk to mask his frustratingly awkward unease.

“How dare I indeed. My sincerest apologies, Your Radiance,” she laughed before scooting herself toward the window to increase the space between them. He let out another snort of both amusement and disbelief, and though he felt no less awkward, his body finally relented and relaxed.

The rest of the ride was spent in silence. Solus wasn’t certain where they were going, but he presumed their destination was the farmer’s market in Revenant’s Toll, which happened to be the largest one in the city. He found he had the vague urge to speak—a confusing urge, as he didn’t exactly enjoy making idle chatter—but he kept silent as she appeared busy messaging someone on her phone, and a quick look revealed a grin on her face and the subtle shaking of her shoulders with what appeared to be silent laughter.

“Dare I ask?” he said lightly, tilting his head in a sidelong glance.

“Just a Kwehtr friend being an idiot,” she chuckled. “Told him I was going to the farmer’s market and he asked how many farmers I was going to buy. Little shite.”

Solus smirked and raised an eyebrow. “Well? It sounds like a valid question to me.”

A flash of surprise briefly crossed her face before it was replaced by her familiar grin, and he couldn’t help but feel a muted triumph in finally surprising her. “My apartment lease says I can’t have farmers, sadly,” Annaiette said disapprovingly.

“What a pity,” Solus drawled.

“Indeed.”

There was a brief silence before they both broke out in laughter, though it was quickly drowned out by the friendly, pre-recorded voice announcing their imminent arrival at Revenant Station. Solus’ earlier assumption that they were headed for the Revenant’s Toll farmer’s market had been correct—Annaiette made ready to get up at the sound of the announcement and was immediately on her feet as soon as the tram began slowing to a stop.

“Let’s go!” Annaiette said cheerily once they’d disembarked and successfully wove their way out of the crowd now heading for the transit center proper. Without waiting for a response, she turned and began making her way toward the public market.

The public market had a number of permanent stalls but many spaces sat empty until the weekend farmer’s market, which now had stalls packed in side by side with all manner of fruits and vegetables and prepared foods, with others peddling flowers and crafts and whatever else packed in between. Given the nice summer weather—nice for others to be exact, as it was much too hot for his liking—what seemed like the entirety of Revenant’s Toll had come out to congregate in the public market, and Solus found himself inwardly cringing at the prospect of having to navigate through the crowd.

It appeared that Annaiette had similar misgivings; she paused on the sidewalk just outside the market area and appeared to be studying the crowd—plotting her course through it, perhaps. “What did you intend to buy here, if not farmers?” Solus asked.

“Vegetables, mostly! Perhaps some fruit. Grapes and apples this week, I think,” she replied with a decisive nod of her head.

“How very healthy. I suppose one must eat well to stay strong, what with all that violence in your schedule,” said Solus before giving her sidelong, cheeky smirk.

She let out a burst of laughter. “Yes, well, what you don’t know is that I ate a disgusting amount of ice cream last week.” She wrinkled her nose in apparent disapproval of her own ice cream consumption.

Solus felt his heart skip but deferred to the usual course of action and ignored it, instead asking, “Ah. The vegetables are atonement for ice cream sins, I suppose?”

“You’d feel like a sinner, too, if you ate that much ice cream.” Annaiette said this without looking at him as she began heading into the crowd of people. Despite this, though, the grin on her face was obvious.

“Oh, I don’t know about that, sinner,” said Solus as he fell in step with her as best he could whilst dodging past passersby. “It may come as a shock, but I actually like ice cream.”

Solus heard an exaggerated, breathy gasp and found Annaiette looking to him with a hand on her chest, scandalized. “Mr. Galvus! Ice cream?”

A group of people pushed past them, and it was just disruptive enough for her to look away and subsequently catch sight of a stand selling the vegetables she was evidently looking for. He felt a slight unease that she had said his name so clearly in the middle of the aisle, but it didn’t seem that any of the passersby had noticed...He pushed the feeling into the back of his mind as a symptom of paranoia—not completely out of mind, but just enough to allow himself some enjoyment of the outdoors—and instead turned his attention back to Annaiette. His lips spread into a smile, one unbidden but not unwelcome as he watched her with mild fascination whilst she examined the stall’s offerings. It appeared whatever she intended to cook involved cabbage and eggplants, and a few short minutes later she came away from the stall with a satisfied smile and a bagful of said vegetables.

“Where to next, hero?” Solus asked as he squeezed past a group of people inexplicably standing around and talking in the middle of a crowded aisle.

“Fruit!” came her enthusiastic response.

They eventually came upon a row of fruit stands and it became clear that Annaiette was much pickier about fruit than she was about vegetables. As it was becoming quite a bit crowded in the vicinity—more so than the area around the predominantly-vegetable stands—Solus took his leave to stand a little ways away in a blessedly shady spot outside the fruit radius and watch as she mused over different varieties of grapes.

“Solus Galvus?” came an unfamiliar voice.

Solus looked about for the source of it and found an equally unfamiliar Roegadyn man standing before him. Once in a while he’d be greeted by people simply excited to see him, which was ultimately harmless, but years of experience dealing with various sycophants and parasites had alarum bells sounding off in the back of Solus’ mind at the sight of this man. Overconfidence radiated off him, and Solus could almost see the smarmy words coming out of that self-important smile.

He’d give this man the Elidibus-mandated three strikes before he did something Elidibus might regret.

“Fancy meeting you out here, Solus!” said the man in exactly the self-absorbed voice he expected. “I’m Skarnsygg—CEO of Synapps, quite certain you’ve heard of us.”

Strike one.

He glanced quickly toward Annaiette, who seemed to be waiting to pay, before looking back to Skarnsygg, who had extended his hand toward him. Solus didn’t take it.

“I haven’t heard of that one. Apologies,” Solus said lazily, and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t pleased to see the man visibly deflate. Solus also had half a mind to simply not shake his hand, but Elidibus constantly reminded him to be polite and so he uncrossed his arms and made to reach out. But his hand had hardly moved before the man reached out to take it and shake it firmly—much, much too firmly.

Strike two.

“Listen, it’s a hell of a coincidence to meet you here like this,” Skarnsygg continued, oblivious to the disinterest that Solus thought should be abundantly clear on his unimpressed face. “I think AnyderSoft would do well to partner with Synapps—I know all about you, and I do think you would be quite interested—”

Strike three.

“I’m not,” Solus said flatly. “I must be going.” He carefully held back the urge to say a whole host of very unkind things (as Elidibus would have wished) and sidled into the crowd to make his way toward Annaiette.

She’d just finished up and smiled when her eyes found him approaching. Her bag of vegetables seemed heavier and lumpier now, and she was also holding a large cup of what he presumed was apple cider. “Found your grapes, then?” he asked, and she gave him a satisfied nod. “It’s quite crowded here. Shall we?”

“Agreed. Let’s go,” she replied before turning and thankfully heading in the direction opposite of the irritating startup man.

She led him to a shady spot just outside the aisle and stopped there to survey the rest of the farmer’s market. “Did you want to get anything? I’ve got everything I came for,” she asked as she sipped from the straw of her drink.

“No, I don’t think I need anything.” He glanced over his shoulder to make sure he hadn’t been followed. It seemed clear.

“Have you ever had fresh cider?” Annaiette asked. And when he shook his head, she held her cup out to him. “Want to try some?”

Solus looked down at the drink and was momentarily tongue-tied—there was a lid and a straw and he wasn’t sure how she meant when she asked if he wanted to try and wondered if she often shared her beverages with others in this manner—

He wordlessly took the drink and hesitated, but she looked so encouraging and so expectant that he slowly, gingerly took a small sip from the straw. The cider was sweet and so unexpectedly flavorful that he looked down at the cup in mild surprise. “It’s good,” he said as he handed it back. He felt his skin beginning to grow warm and he took as subtle a breath as he could in an effort to make it stop.

“It’s one of my favorite things to get when I’m here. Do you want one?” she asked brightly, and her face had no indication that she noticed he’d briefly faltered.

“Ah, no, I’m quite all right—”

“Solus! There you are!”

Solus frowned in both irritation and disgust when he turned to find Skarnsygg walking toward them with determination in his step. “I think we got off on the wrong foot,” said Skarnsygg with that aggravating smile. “All I want is a bell of your time to chat about how I think Synapps and AnyderSoft could really help each other innovate in the tech space. You’ll be sure to find it worth your while.”

Annaiette had at first seemed mildly confused, and Solus was pleased to find her expression slowly darkening; as soon as “innovate in the tech space” had come out of the man’s mouth, her expression, too, was one of annoyance and disgust. She looked up to Solus’s face, seemingly studying it—gauging his reaction, perhaps.

“I’m not interested,” Solus said brusquely. “Please leave me alone.”

It was so difficult to hold his tongue.

Skarnsygg stepped closer, almost uncomfortably so. “Listen, you’ll be certain to be interested once you’ve learned what we’re about—”

“He said he’s not interested,” Annaiette interjected suddenly, and the deathly serious voice that had come out of her was unfamiliar and uncharacteristically cold.

“Stay out of this, lass, it doesn’t involve you and you’d not understand anyway. Why don’t you run along?” said Skarnsygg as he moved to step between her and Solus.

The annoyance that Solus felt within immediately flared into actual anger, but before he could let loose all the words he’d been dutifully holding back, he found Annaiette between him and Skarnsygg with her free hand balled into a fist and clearly ready to deliver violence unto this man despite the fact that he stood nearly a full head taller than her.

“You need to leave,” she growled. “Now.”

For a moment the three of them stood still in some kind of ridiculous standoff, before Skarnsygg slowly and reluctantly backed away. “You’re missing out on a great opportunity,” he said sullenly before turning on his heel and hurrying away into the crowd. Annaiette watched him leave and didn’t relax until he disappeared down one of the craft aisles and was out of sight.

She exhaled once it was clear he wasn’t returning and turned back to Solus. “The nerve. I’m sure he’s just full of shite and his product is shite too,” she said in a huff, and Solus found the bite in her voice somehow charming. “I hope that ah—wasn’t too much. I assumed you couldn’t say anything too bad, since you’re What’s His Face and all.” The familiar grin reappeared on her face.

“You have the right of it,” he said with a thin smile. “What’s His Face is grateful, but he does wonder if it was merely an excuse for the violence you are so fond of.”

“I’ve been found out,” she laughed. Her smile softened slightly. “I think I’m tired of the farmer’s market.”

“And don’t you know, I think I am, too.”

Annaiette looked thoughtful for a moment.

“Do you want to get ice cream?”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “I thought we were here specifically because of your ice cream sins last week.”

She let out a bark of laughter. “The ice cream a few blocks away is worth the weight of one more sin.”

Solus couldn’t help but laugh and gesture for her to lead the way with a theatrical flourish of his arm. “By all means, then. Lead on, sinner.”

“Let’s go!”

Hythlodaeus smiled and watched the pair as they disappeared into the city streets.

As he lived quite close to the public market, it was impossible to ignore the urge to take a quick stroll and see if he might run into his dear friend and his dear friend’s friend. By some stroke of luck, he’d caught a glimpse of them just as Annaiette was buying fruit and the pushy startup man had just begun forcing his presence upon Hades. Hythlodaeus had followed along at a distance and was prepared to jump in and rescue Hades from the situation, but he was pleasantly surprised to find that said situation was as under control as it could be thanks to Annaiette. Not that Hades was incapable of handling himself—he just might have said something that would have thrown Elidibus and the PR team into a tizzy, which was what Hythlodaeus had actually intended to save him from.

Hythlodaeus did, though, make a mental note to comb Kwehtr and other social media sites tomorrow for any rants about or relating to Solus Galvus, just in case.

With his friend and secret friend off to wherever it was they were off to—food, to hazard a guess—he found himself undeniably proud at the lack of dithering that had plagued Hades not long ago. To think he’d been so ridiculously obstinate about not contacting Annaiette…

He peered back at the fruit stand she’d bought the cider from. She had good instincts—she always had—and he thought that cider sounded like an excellent idea.

Chapter Text

Most mornings at work were quiet and uneventful. Solus generally arrived between 8 and 9 AM—early enough that most just greeted him with a weary nod or a quiet “hello” as they went about their morning ritual. That is, if they paid him any mind at all. And indeed, this morning was quiet and uneventful like most mornings, and as he made his way to his office the people already present greeted him with a silent nod or muted and sleepy “hello,” like most mornings.

Nearly a bell after he sat down at his desk, he finally tore himself away from his emails to go fetch a cup of coffee. Unlike most mornings, though, he began to feel a creeping sense of unease which slowly intensified whilst he waited in the kitchen for it to brew. Something about the way the later office arrivals looked at him was off, somehow. Their eyes both lingered too long and averted too quickly, and at least one person—one of the younger engineers on the floor who tended to be incredibly skittish around him—gave him a quick smile as she passed. He had half a mind to ask Hythlodaeus about it because if anyone knew it would be him, but Solus was quite certain that he would rather not know and hoped that it would simply pass if he ignored it for long enough.

But it proved impossible to ignore—at his monthly sync with Elidibus and Lahabrea, he noticed Elidibus silently studying him out the corner of his eye whilst Lahabrea gave his update. Since Solus had admittedly been somewhat wound up over one of the projects under his care, he tried to brush it off as Elidibus’ usual mother hen antics. But when they left the room at the end of their meeting, they found Nabriales and Fandaniel outside, waiting for the meeting room adjacent to theirs—and at the sight of him, a smirk had appeared on Nabriales’ smug face.

“Had a good weekend, Emet-Selch?” Nabriales asked, eyebrows slightly raised. Solus stifled the urge to narrow his eyes and instead returned the smirk in kind—it was clear Nabriales was hinting at something and Solus knew it would frustrate him if he didn’t react.

“It was acceptable,” he replied lightly, and he was quite pleased to see one of Nabriales’ eyebrows subtly twitch.

Solus could also see Fandaniel’s gleeful grin in the periphery of his vision as well as the warning look that Elidibus shot at the two of them, and was now very certain that he was not going to like whatever this was about. “I must be off. Cheers.”

Solus strolled off in an untroubled, unperturbed manner that he was sure would irritate both Nabriales and Fandaniel, before quickly hurrying away once he was out of sight with the intent to message Hythlodaeus and find out what Nabriales and Fandaniel knew that he didn’t. He took the stairs to his office 3 floors up to avoid the risk of riding the elevator with yet another person who knew something he didn’t know, and was back at his desk with a message to Hyhlodaeus open in a matter of minutes.

There was a passing hesitation in contacting his friend; if Nabriales and Fandaniel were this happy about whatever it was, it was likely that Hythlodaeus would be similarly so. But despite how dreadful it could be to deal with Hythlodaeus in situations like these, it was far preferable to learning about the matter in more...disagreeable ways whilst he made his way around the AnyderSoft campus today.

He exhaled and pushed through the hesitation as he opened an IM window to Hythlodaeus.

Solus: all right, what happened?

Solus: what do you know?

Hythlodaeus: Goodness, that was quick. Nabriales again?

Hythlodaeus: Before I show you, what do you want from Fogfens? I’m nearly there

Solus: …

Solus: cappuccino

Hythlodaeus: Sounds good. I know you don’t have any meetings for a bit so stay in your office, please

He stared for a moment at the link that soon arrived from Hythlodaeus. Because he was sure that the kweh that link led to was going to be disagreeable—because Kwehtr was more often than not very disagreeable in a myriad of ways ranging from the social to the technical, and because Hythlodaeus wouldn’t have prefaced the link with a request to stay in his office if it wasn’t something disagreeable—

Solus clenched and unclenched a fist and clicked the link.

Skarnsygg Trahgkoelsyn, Synapps CEO (@synapps)
Chatted with Solus galvus yesterday and had a great talk about how anydersoft could really benifit with a partnership with us. Had to cut it short because his bossy girlfriend couldnt stand us talking shop

rogue113 (@rogue113x)
shit, were you at the farmer’s market? i saw him too
[pic of Annaiette offering Solus cider]

Skarnsygg Trahgkoelsyn, Synapps CEO (@synapps)
yea was there, tell you about it at the office. She threatened me, it was rediculous

rogue113 (@rogue113x)
what the fuck lol

It had been a long, long time since Solus felt any manner of emotion as intensely as the rage and indignation and inexplicable embarrassment that flared up and out of the very pit of his stomach. And though he knew—he knew—that wading into the wreck that was Kwehtr was almost always going to leave him feeling mildly disgruntled, he was far more than mildly disgruntled now. Was Mr. Synapps so delusional to think that their short exchange had constituted an actual conversation, or was he spouting lies to look impressive and make himself feel better about the fact that he’d been shooed away by Solus’ so-called bossy girlfriend—

Which she wasn’t, of course, and it was frankly laughable that Mr. Synapps had thought that—

He groaned in frustration and irritation and rubbed at his inexplicably warming face.

By the time Solus heard Hythlodaeus’s knock on the door—a light, quick one that heralded the arrival of the nuisance he both loved and hated—he had been angrily reading through his emails but was far too frustrated to coherently answer any of them.

“Good morning, my friend,” Hythlodaeus said lightly as he took a seat on the other side of Solus’ desk, a small cappuccino cup in one hand and an iced coffee in the other. Hythlodaeus held the small one to him.

“Thank you,” Solus said sullenly as he took it and took a sip.

He glanced up to Hythlodaeus and found the all-too-familiar sweet smile that concealed the mischief he knew to be lurking just underneath.

“You didn’t tell me Annaiette was your girlfriend, Hades,“ Hythlodaeus said with theatric indignation. “Goodness me, I thought we were friends—I should like to think that I would be the first to know—”

And though he knew reacting would only be taking Hythlodaeus’ bait, Solus couldn’t stop himself from hotly snapping, “She isn’t my girlfriend! That idiot wouldn’t know a girlfriend from a goobbue.”

“I don’t think Annaiette is an idiot, my friend.”

“What—no, not—what’s wrong with you? Synapps man!” Solus sputtered as Hythlodaeus’ mouth spread into a cheeky grin.

“Well, good. Hardly seems decent of you to call your girlfriend an idiot,” he said, leaning forward and resting his elbow on the desk and his chin on his palm.

Solus slapped his palms to his face and groaned. “Am I to be your entertainment this morning?” he muttered irately with his hands over his eyes.

“Don’t sell yourself short, my friend. I find your presence entertaining at all times,” Hythlodaeus chuckled. Solus let out a groan.

“Of course you do.”

He only received a sweet smile in response.

“Who saw the kweh?” Solus asked after taking another sip of his lukewarm cappuccino. Hythlodaeus pulled his phone out and began scrolling in what Solus presumed was the Kwehtr app. It was hard to say since the man somehow found the energy to be active on multiple social media platforms.

“Well…” Hythlodaeus began when he found what he was looking for with the air of someone about to deliver bad news. Solus sighed and let himself sag into his chair.

“Everyone, then.”

People’s love of drama meant that it was likely that all of AnyderSoft had seen the kweh by now, especially since the employees of this building were already shooting furtive glances in his direction this early in the day. The idea that the Solus Galvus, the rancorous harbinger of bad news and keen dispenser of the word “no,” could possibly have a girlfriend was sure to be the focus of gossip around the coffee makers this morning. He was in no way oblivious to the sorts of things people said about him behind his back, and especially relevant to today was the old standby of “he needs to get the stick out of his arse and get laid.”

As though there was any world where that could happen.

“Not everyone,” said Hythlodaeus, the amusement quite evident in his voice. “The kweh has only been rekwehed a handful of times, one of which was a quote rekweh criticizing Mr. Trahgkoelsyn for unprofessional behavior.” The straw of his iced coffee was still in his mouth and he smiled a little bit wider as he scrolled on his phone.

In spite of the aggravation and irritation, Solus inwardly smiled at the sight of his friend (not outwardly, because he refused to give Hythlodaeus the satisfaction). Hythlodaeus was in his element and having a grand old time, and despite all the needling and poking fun, Solus knew that ultimately his friend was doing it mostly out of concern for him. And since he could not be bothered to trawl social media himself because there were already enough things in his life to make him angry without adding social media to the pile, it was all the better that Hythlodaeus absolutely loved doing it.

“What did happen at the farmer’s market?” Hythlodaeus asked, turning his attention back to Solus as he put his phone down. “I rather doubt you had any sort of conversation with this gentleman.”

Solus let out an embittered puff of air before launching into an abridged retelling of his day where he carefully left out how he’d only been at the farmer’s market because Annaiette had coincidentally been exercising near his home.

“Elidibus is sure to be very proud of you,” Hythlodaeus said when he finished, his cheeky grin somehow even more so. “You didn’t snap at Mr. Synapps once, which I find exceedingly remarkable indeed.”

“Yes, well. I suppose I have Annaiette to thank for that.” Solus crossed his arms with a quiet but sullen hmph, and in an effort to look at anything but Hythlodaeus’ gleeful face, he pointedly glared at the monitor currently displaying his email.

“Speaking of Annaiette—have you heard from her about this?”

Solus’ eyes darted first to his phone—silent all morning, save for his alarm—before darting back to meet Hythlodaeus’ expectant gaze. “No, I haven’t spoken to her since yesterday afternoon,” said Solus, taking care to sound as nonchalant as he could despite the sudden and horrifying realization that there was a nonzero chance of the awful eye of Kwehtr turning its gaze upon her.

Hythlodaeus, though, could not be fooled—it was evident in the way his expression softened to one more encouraging than teasing. “Perhaps worth checking in on her, just in case?” he said lightly. “I can’t imagine she’s the sort to let it get to her, but one never knows.”

He regarded Hythlodaeus in silence as he weighed the words in his mind; there was something that gave Solus pause, a very subtle lilt in his voice that Solus learned to recognize over the years—the one that suggested he knew more than he let on. He was quite certain, however, that attempting to pry it out of Hythlodaeus at this juncture would be an exercise in futility; his tells generally became more obvious as his willingness to divulge the secret grew, and a tell this small meant he was keeping his secret close to his chest…

He resigned himself to puzzling over Hythlodaeus’ secret later and instead reached for his phone—still silent with no notifications to speak of—and tapped into his messages. Solus hesitated a moment, though, with his eyes lingering on the end of his previous conversation with Annaiette. How exactly would one just casually breach the subject of the Synapps man’s post? Good morning, thank you for the nice near-violence at the farmer’s market, and incidentally do you happen to have people sending you horrid messages on Kwehtr?

He supposed “good morning” was a good start.

And he deeply hoped that she was, in fact, having a good morning…

Annaiette was having a good morning.

She’d woken to a handful of poorly-worded and very aggressive Kwehtr messages that amounted to angry people being angry that she, an obviously fake engineer, was obviously taking advantage of the illustrious Solus Galvus, who evidently needed to be protected from her by random internet people. While this in itself wasn’t a good happenstance, it was all so juvenile that she couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation—she spent the entire tram ride to work snickering to herself and posting screenshots of the messages to her friends’ Enochat server. Moenbryda in particular had found it hilarious, while Alisaie had immediately made an offer of hypothetical violence. Alphinaud, on the other hand, had been mortified that anyone would do such a thing, to which his sister had simply replied with a disapproving frown.

Annaiette might have had some amount of concern if old Skarnsygg had any actual clout in any of the communities she cared about, but as she suspected, a quick internet search revealed that he was indeed full of shite and his company’s product was so incredibly indistinct that she couldn’t even declare it to be any tangible amount of shite. Liberal application of the block button was all that was needed in response to his and his followers’ antics.

She did wonder, though, if Solus had also received angry messages himself (did he even have a Kwehtr account?). She was loath to bring it up to him—she didn’t want him to feel guilty, especially now that her Kwehtr messages were silent after blocking all the nitwits. It also looked like there were some amount of people criticizing Skarnsygg and his behavior—certainly more than the people agreeing with him—so she didn’t get the sense that this would be anything but a miniscule blip in the whirlwind that was the Kwehtr timeline. She also knew better than to acknowledge any of it, as there was absolutely nothing to gain in doing so.

“Good morning,” Annaiette said brightly when she arrived at her desk. Moenbryda had already settled in and was in the middle of taking a sip of coffee as Annaiette passed behind her—she glanced toward Annaiette over the rim of her mug with laughter in her eyes.

“If it isn’t What’s His Face’s gold-digging girlfriend herself. What fake engineering tasks will you get up to today?” she laughed. Annaiette put her bag and phone down and busied herself with logging in as she tried to stem the faint but sudden warmth on her scalp and ears.

“Oh, I don't know how to do a—what’s it? An engineering?” said Annaiette lightly. When the warmth finally faded from her skin, she grabbed her coffee mug and looked to Moenbryda with a grin. “I shall have to figure out how one does an engineering after I’ve figured out the coffee maker. Care to join me?”

Moenbryda got to her feet and followed on her heels to the kitchen. “I’m sure we’ll figure it out between the two of us!”

As it happened, there wasn’t much to figure out about the coffee maker as someone had already made some—Tataru, probably, as she was often the first to arrive in the morning—so after a quick rinse of her mug, she poured herself a cup and joined Moenbryda by the window.

“So! Nice trip to the farmer’s market, eh?” said Moenbryda, arching an eyebrow and giving her a sidelong glance. “Went for fruits, came back with something else...?”

Annaiette let out a laugh of disbelief. “If by ‘something else’ you mean a host of idiots who gave me the best entertainment I’ve had on Kwehtr in a long time, then yes.” Her face was warming now and she couldn’t control it any more than the laughs spilling uncontrollably out of her mouth.

“And how does What’s His Face feel about this host of idiots saying such awful things to his girlfriend?” Moenbryda asked coolly. Annaiette had taken a sip from her mug to put a stop to her nervous laughter, only to choke at Moenbryda’s words.

“For—for the last time, it’s not like that!” she sputtered, coughing coffee up as Moenbryda cackled with laughter. It didn’t take long for her to regain her composure, though, and she continued, “And no, I haven’t told him. I’m sure he has about a thousand and one things to worry about without me throwing another thing onto the pile. Seems hardly worth troubling him about it.”

Moenbryda’s eyes felt as though they were boring straight through her—Annaiette sipped her coffee and kept her eyes on the birds hopping about outside the window in an effort to avoid her piercing gaze.

“Not even for a laugh? Surely he’d find those messages funny at the very least.”

“And why are you so concerned about whether or not I tell him about it?” said Annaiette, raising her eyebrows as she lightly elbowed Moenbryda in the arm. “What about you? How was your weekend?”

“Urianger went to spend time with Thancred so I binge-watched The Boy and the Dragon Gay. Turned out quite a bit better than expected!”

It seemed that Moenbryda was finally willing to relent on the topic of What’s His Face and Kwehtr, and they walked back to their desks chattering about the new show—it had just released on StreamyPix to great fanfare since a well-regarded director and several Ishgardian heartthrobs were attached to the production. The show was an interesting modern-day adaptation of the old literary work, and it had been obvious that the production knew their audience well—a fact made especially clear in the designs of the dragon characters in both their humanoid and full dragon forms.

They spent a good twenty minutes standing in the kitchen talking about the show while they sipped at their coffee. Others slowly congregated there with them, and their small trip to the coffee maker eventually ballooned into a full office gathering when Arenvald arrived with a large box of pastries to share. By the time everyone dispersed back to their desks to get actual work done, Annaiette had forgotten about the morning Kwehtr happenings. She peered at her phone with a measure of surprise when she opened the messages waiting for her.

Solus: Good morning. I thought it appropriate thank you for the very nice near-violence at the farmer’s market

Solus: Thank you

Solus: I did want to ask about something related to that, though

Annaiette stifled a laugh so as not to attract Moenbryda’s attention. She was certain there was only one thing related to the near-violence at the farmer’s market that he could want to ask about, and it felt almost uncharacteristic of him to be this...hesitant? She wasn’t exactly sure why she thought this, though, as they hadn’t actually known each other for all that long. Regardless, with a smile she replied and put her phone down so she could get started on her work for today—his messages had been from nearly a half bell ago so she assumed he’d be busy with some meeting or another by now.

A surprisingly incorrect assumption, it seemed, because her phone buzzed with a response not a minute later.

Annaiette: No need to thank me, I couldn’t pass up the chance for some near-violence

Annaiette: What did you want to ask?

Solus: If I am not mistaken, you have a Kwehtr account, correct?

Solus: Have you received anything out of the ordinary today?

At this, Annaiette could no longer stop herself and let out a snort of amusement. Predictably, Moenbryda perked up and gave her a sidelong glance with her eyebrows raised.

“What’s His Face?” she asked, grinning.

“Mmhmm,” was all Annaiette cared to say as she typed her response. She thought about playing dumb for just a bit to make him sweat, but she supposed a social media incident of this nature was just a bit more significant for him than for her and so a more direct answer felt more appropriate.

Annaiette: I take it you mean the kweh from the idiot at the farmer’s market?

Annaiette: I got a few hilarious messages, but nothing the block button couldn’t solve 😂

Solus: What manner of message did you receive?

Annaiette: Nothing I couldn’t handle, no need to concern yourself with them 😄

Solus: Show me

She cocked her head at his reply. Was Solus actually worried? Had the kweh had caused him problems at AnyderSoft?

Annaiette: Really, it’s fine! I already deleted them

Solus: I see

Solus: How are you feeling? To call Ser Synapps despicable would be an understatement

Annaiette: Oh, I’m fine! ☺️ People like him aren’t worth thinking about

Solus: I suppose I should have known that the eager threatener of violence would find this nothing more than an amusing curiosity

Annaiette: That’s right

She hadn’t actually deleted the messages, of course, and his concern was a heartening surprise, but it wasn’t as though she couldn’t handle herself. There was no need to make him think he needed to help her, especially over things he realistically could not control. If she was correctly inferring the tone in his words, he did seem somewhat worked up about the situation in spite of his usual wry quip; she guiltily wondered if she ought to leave him be for a while and stop dragging him to places he likely didn’t even want to be…

Annaiette: Regardless, I’m sorry if I caused you any problems

Annaiette: I'll leave you be so as not to cause more 😆 my messages are always open if you have further requests for violence

And to close the matter, Annaiette locked her phone and put it aside so as to put aside any further thoughts of Solus and the trouble she’d caused him. There was actual work to be done today—not just the endless meetings that had plagued her the past few weeks—and she actually felt eager to get started.

She’d been reading all the papers she could find on route optimization and different implementations thereof in preparation of her and Moenbryda’s next push to further improve Leve’s navigation and route prediction methods, and they’d just settled on what they thought would be a decent first attempt at the task. Interestingly, her unlikely friend Wespes had brought to her attention the small handful of people on the internet that thought Leve’s navigation superior to Moogle Maps for pedestrian routing in cities. She scoffed at the idea that they could ever hold a candle to anything Moogle did—especially because route navigation was secondary to their actual services—but it felt nice to read the comments (and the single blog post) nonetheless.

This work wouldn’t begin until after lunch, though; the morning (or what was left of it after the very enjoyable but overlong kitchen gathering) was to be her chance to answer emails and finish the code review she hadn’t gotten to last week.

“So!” came Moenbryda’s voice a half bell into answering emails.

Annaiette turned to find that Moenbryda had swiveled her chair to face her, hands behind her head and a roguish smile on her face. Bored of answering her own emails, most likely.

“What did he say?” Moenbryda asked expectantly.

“He asked if I got any messages on Kwehtr—just wanted to see if I was all right,” Annaiette explained lightly.

“Did you show him the messages? Have a good laugh about them?”

Annaiette smiled but shook her head. “No, he seemed worried and I didn’t want to make it worse.”

“He was worried!” Moenbryda cackled. “Good to know he’s not the sort to leave you to the wolves.”

“You saw them—they were more cubs than wolves,” Annaiette laughed. “Still, I don’t want to make more trouble so I thought I ought to leave him be for a while. Who knows if I’ll cause a full-blown PR disaster next time?”

And to counter the strange, deflated feeling in her chest, she grinned.

An indignant scowl appeared on Moenbryda’s face and she straightened up. “What? Did he say you caused trouble?”

“No no, nothing like that,” Annaiette said hastily. “But I don’t need to be making Kwehtr drama if I can help it.”

Her words seemed to mollify Moenbryda just enough to get her to relax in her chair, but not enough to keep her from giving Annaiette a reproachful look.

“I’d be surprised if What’s His Face let a little thing like an oaf on Kwehtr get to him,” said Moenbryda, crossing her arms. She paused for a moment as her mouth slowly returned to its customary roguish smile. “Eh, Madam Bossybritches?”

Annaiette couldn’t help but let out a loud burst of laughter.

“Madam Bossybritches.”

“Yes, you’re an absolute terror to work with,” Moenbryda guffawed. “The bossiest of them all!”

It promptly became clear that the other engineers around them had in fact not been politely ignoring their conversation and the air was soon filled with sounds of her and her team’s crescendoing laughs.

Chapter Text

This week was one of the rare times where work just seemed to get done.

Solus’ inbox was in good shape for once, he finally finished leaving comments on a particularly exhausting code review, and he’d nipped several potential problems in the bud by forcing himself to attend all the meetings where he had been an optional invitee.

He should have been more pleased with all this productivity. Who, after all, wouldn’t be happy to be making a dent in the massive pile of work that awaited him each day?

But here he was, sullenly eating a small bag of popoto crisps in his office as though he hadn’t just saved the general public from the Alembic Studio team and another of their ill-advised decisions to subtly change their API without warning. While he was not directly involved with the team these days, one of the feature leads had desperately reached out to him to knock some sense into certain individuals who thought it acceptable to flippantly change that sort of thing. The fact that she directly requested Solus’ assistance was telling; he was well aware that she’d been fighting product leadership about the issue for years now and was finally fed up enough to implore Solus Galvus himself for help under the guise of a code standards sync meeting. Solus had the sneaking suspicion that certain unfortunate…social realities were at play there, and Solus had made sure to impress upon the other Alembic leads that they were being exceedingly foolish to dismiss her concerns.

It was cathartic in a way to watch them wither in the wake of his words.

The relief was short-lived, though, and he now found himself glaring at his email as he tried not to think about the silent phone he’d kept out of sight for the past week. Or how it was for the better that Annaiette not associate with him and risk further Kwehtr harassment. Or how she’d made good on her word to leave him be and how his mind was so inexplicably fixated on it when he was usually extremely pleased to be left alone—

Solus let out a noise of frustration and locked his computer. He’d been holed up in his office for the past few bells and it was now three bells past core work hours so it was high time to make his way home.

Leaving the office at this time of day meant there were blessedly fewer people to encounter on the way out. And indeed, he nearly made it off the AnyderSoft campus without making eye contact with another person when the familiar voice of his dearest but most irritating friend inexplicably called out from behind him.

“I didn’t know you were working late today!”

Solus stopped in his tracks and let out a long-suffering sigh, steeling himself for what may come before turning to find Hythlodaeus cheerfully walking toward him.

“I could say the same to you. What are you still doing here?” Solus asked, arching an eyebrow at him.

Hythlodaeus gestured vaguely toward Building 4 with a grin. “I was invited to a playtest for one of the VR prototypes,” he said. “They were using the latest of our headsets and I’m quite pleased with how they’re performing.” Though it was clear that he had enjoyed himself in some way, Solus noted a tiny hint of something else in his voice.

“The headset or the game?” Solus asked with a thin smirk. Hythlodaeus let out a laugh.

“The headset. The game was quite a bit rougher than expected given their upcoming milestones.”

Solus’ smirk grew just a little bit wider. When Hythlodaeus described something as “rougher than expected,” it almost always meant that he was very much displeased with whatever it was.

“So they’re falling behind.”

“Oh, very much so,” said Hythlodaeus with a smile, and the something else in his voice was just a bit stronger now.

Very definitely displeased, then.

Because Solus knew well that Hythlodaeus’ good cheer was not as unwavering as most people thought, and because he perhaps wanted for something to distract him from the buzzing thoughts in his mind…

“Do you want to go for a drink?” Solus asked. “I could do with one, myself.”

The response came without a hint of hesitation.

“That is an excellent idea, my friend!”

When they arrived at their usual Nagxian restaurant, it became even clearer that Hythlodaeus was very much disgruntled about the VR prototype game’s progress. His after-work drink of choice was typically some manner of ale but tonight he opted for straight whiskey, which he very rarely did these days. Except, of course, when he was loosening himself up for something or other—and in this case, Solus was quite sure Hythlodaeus was about to let loose a deluge of complaints that was quite rare to see.

“It must be bad,” said Solus with a small, wry laugh when the bartender left to fetch their drinks. He ordered a whiskey to match—he hoped to find some sort of reprieve in something stronger than an ale or cocktail.

“Oh, it is,” Hythlodaeus replied with a cheerfulness at odds with the obvious tension in his body. “Astonishingly so. However, our headset worked beautifully all things considered, and that I very much enjoyed.”

Solus arched an eyebrow as he crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. “And was this not the team that had complained and complained about the SDK and demanded changes? Many of which you accomodated?”

“The very team,” Hythlodaeus replied.

The bartender was back in no time at all with their whiskey in tulip-shaped glasses and set them down with a smile. “Rough day, eh?” she said as she poured water for them. “Cedarwood Reserve for you today—first one on the house.”

“You’re much too kind! Thank you,” said Hythlodaeus warmly, to which she simply winked before taking her leave to attend the one other patron at the other end of the bar.

Solus and Hythlodaeus had been coming to the restaurant for so many years now that the bartender knew their moods and what they ordered in said moods. She also occasionally gave them free drinks—and sometimes even the good stuff like the Cedarwood Reserve bourbon she’d just given them—likely because they almost always ordered multiple drinks when taking them neat or on the rocks, and also perhaps because they tended to tip quite liberally.

“Cheers,” Solus said, holding his glass up toward his friend. Hythlodaeus merely nodded before clinking his own glass to his and immediately taking a sizable sip.

Very, very displeased, then.

“I don’t ask for much, Hades, you know that,” Hythlodaeus began with that uncharacteristic hint of irritation in his voice.

Solus wanted to be a contrarian and tell him that he did indeed often ask for much from Solus specifically in many ways (mostly his sanity), but it was otherwise true that he didn’t actually ask for much; while the projects under Hythlodaeus’ care were big and complex and often far, far outside the realm of typical AnyderSoft products, said projects were well known to be less stressful than others by virtue of Hythlodaeus’ relaxed leadership. Though to be completely fair, those who required more structure and direct management tended to find this in itself stressful, but he got around that particular issue by not taking on those sorts of people in the first place.

With a thin smirk on his face, Solus silently nodded and waited for his friend to continue.

“Our agreement, as you know, was for a VR demo game to showcase the capabilities of the upgraded headset,” said Hythlodaeus. “Everything was specced and costed, they had reasonable milestones, even had a small prototype running in Alexander. That was last year.”

Solus sipped from his glass and gave Hythlodaeus a questioning look. “And what was it like today?”

“Today it was…not much better than the prototype. There were certainly things that were better, of course. But it was worse in some ways,” Hythlodaeus said before downing the rest of his glass. “They could have done with less high-poly environment pieces and more of the actual game they had written a spec for. A high-poly flower pot is still a flower pot, no matter how many the new headset can render at 60 FPS.”

“Did they think that would impress you?” Solus chuckled into his glass. “Your team already does that sort of stress testing. With Alexander, even.”

With his whiskey now gone, Hythlodaeus sipped from his glass of water.

“It’s one thing to miss milestones,” he continued, and it was here that his cheery façade cracked; his ever-present smile faded slightly, and his brow furrowed with displeasure. “It is another thing to miss them and then blame literally everything else except their own failure to prioritize. And to have the gall to suggest to me—to me—that the hardware team held theirs back by not having the SDK ‘workable’ quickly enough. As though I would be happy to agree and throw the team under the bus. My team was not the one missing milestones, make no mistake, and other teams seem to be quite happily using the SDK without issue.”

Solus took a moment to wave the bartender over. “One more for both of us, if you would be so kind,” he said, holding up his glass. The bartender nodded, and Solus thought he might have caught a knowing, amused smile on her face as she turned to leave. Solus downed the rest of his own glass before resting his elbows on the bar with a frown. “And just why was Laurentius put in charge, again? Who in their right mind made him lead?”

The smile returned to Hythlodaeus’ face. “I will be having a word with the relevant people. I suspect he might have been put there to fail—I will not have him sully my team on the way down.”

The bartender returned with two more glasses of whiskey, and Hythlodaeus didn’t bother waiting for the customary “cheers” before taking a sip, to which Solus could only silently laugh and follow suit. “Am I correct to assume that today’s playtest was simply the straw that broke the chocobo’s back?” Solus asked. Hythlodaeus nodded.

“Indeed. I did say I was invited earlier, but it would be more accurate to say that I very enthusiastically requested to attend one of their scheduled playtests this week. There was some resistance, as you can imagine.”

Solus let out a small snort of amusement. “I’m sure. And who did you sweet talk to acquire your invite?”

“The design team’s producer.” Hythlodaeus’ smile took a turn for the mischievous. “Quite eager to impress, but with some level of delusion about the quality of their product.”

“Not mincing your words tonight, it seems. So tell me, what manner of game did they present to you?”

The lilting laugh that left his friend’s mouth made it clear that the whiskey was beginning to do its work.

Evidently it was a sort of exploration game with light combat elements intended to showcase the wireless capabilities of the updated VR headset by having the player look for clues in a house in the woods. Hythlodaeus was quick to praise the visual fidelity of the game, but this turned out to be the only things he did like; it was otherwise buggy, with animation and lighting frequently popping, inexplicable framerate drops, and poor waypointing and objective communication. And the icing on the cake was the comically basic combat system that could have been lifted from the Alexander Asset Store. And though Solus never made games himself, he’d tinkered with Alexander Engine in the past and knew its strengths—and he knew that a competent team should have been able to put together something more substantial in half the time with a more interesting mechanic to boot.

“I would like to give them the benefit of the doubt,” said Hythlodaeus before using his teeth to pull a fish ball from one of the many skewers Solus had ordered. “But I will not sit idly by whilst their leads blame my team.”

“I know, my dear, I know,” said Solus with a smirk as he pat Hythlodaeus’ arm. He was beginning to repeat himself, which was an indicator of the depths of his indignation—and was also an indicator that Solus ought to start discouraging further orders of hard liquor.

“But enough about that, I want to talk about something else,” Hythlodaeus said once he finished off his skewer, and he leaned in with a roguish glint in his eye. “How fares Annaiette lately?”

Solus’ light buzz had relaxed him just enough to be taken off guard by the question—he turned away from Hythlodaeus in an irritated huff.

“I don’t know, we haven’t spoken.”

“Haven’t spoken!” Hythlodaeus exclaimed as though a knife had been driven through his heart.

And though he knew ignoring him would do naught to stay the oncoming onslaught, Solus very pointedly kept his eyes off his friend and sipped from his glass of water.

He felt Hythlodaeus elbowing his arm, and when Solus continued ignoring him, he felt Hythlodeus leaning against his side. “And why not?” Hythlodaeus asked with his voice bordering a whine.

“She doesn’t want to talk to me,” Solus snapped as he tried—and failed—to shrug Hythlodaeus off, and indeed this only encouraged Hythlodaeus to redouble his efforts. He felt Hythlodaeus’ shoulders trembling with silent amusement, gently at first until it grew into full-fledged laughter that continued for far too long. There was one skewer of grilled meat left, so in an effort to not talk to his infuriating so-called friend, he bit a piece off and sullenly chewed with his eyes fixed on the alcohol shelf behind the bar.

“I believe what she said was that she would leave you be. Not that she didn’t want to talk to you.” And out of the corner of his eye, Solus saw Hythlodaeus pull his phone out. For a fleeting moment he dared to hope that Hythlodaeus was taking out his phone to scroll social media and pout in silence, but this of course was wishful thinking; Solus quickly found Hythlodaeus’ arm around his shoulder to stay any escape as he thrust his phone into Solus’ face.

The screen was much too close to read but it definitely looked like DMs from some social media or other. He leaned his head as far back as he could and shot Hythlodaeus an irate glare. “What is this?” he asked, though he was quite certain he would not like the answer in the least.

“It’s abundantly clear to anyone with half a brain that she would like to talk to you again, though now I question whether you have even that,” said Hythlodaeus, brandishing his phone at him. “And all in spite of the awful things people have sent her. Look!”

Solus bristled with indignation and opened his mouth to retort, only to find the phone pushed even closer to his face. He snatched it from Hythlodaeus and only then was he willing to be pushed away; Solus did his damndest to focus on the phone and not look at the sweet, self-satisfied gaze that was boring into his skull.

So Solus scrolled and read.

He quickly found his skin growing hot for a number of reasons.

“Hythlodaeus! You’ve been talking to her this whole time?” he sputtered. It was something that he knew in hindsight was an inevitability, but he found himself apoplectic with anger in spite of this—that Hythlodaeus had been carrying on like this without saying a word…And further scrolling revealed further confusingly distressing truths:

• That Annaiette had been the recipient of abhorrent messages from disgusting Kwehtr cretins
• That she had been enduring said messages without telling him so as not to worry him
• That she had been enduring said messages to not worry him but was happy enough to show them to Hythlodaeus

And finally:

• That she had expressed to Hythlodaeus the thought that “What’s His Face probably thinks I’m a nuisance anyways”

For a moment, Solus didn’t know what he wanted to say first—several choice words pushed and shoved to the forefront and in the flurry, all that he could get out of his mouth was:

“Hythlodaeus! Y-you—why—?!”

The man had the gall to look innocent—as though he was anything but—whilst waiting as Solus struggled to rein in his tongue.

“She’s quite charming. I enjoy talking to her,” said Hythlodaeus, and the amusement and mischief and self-satisfaction was so thick in his voice that Solus had to fight the fleeting urge to strike him across the face. This, of course, was not lost on Hythlodaeus and he rest his elbow on the bar with a put-on look of mild surprise. “What of it, my friend? Surely you find her somewhat interesting since you didn’t immediately cut contact.”

The back of Solus’ neck was altogether too hot now—he rolled his neck and shoulders slightly in an attempt to alleviate it.

He also frustratingly found himself at a loss for words; voicing any of his many objections to Hythlodaeus’ behavior was guaranteed to be twisted and purposefully misconstrued no matter how he said it, but his silence would only invite the same. And worse still was his inexplicable irritation at the fact that Hythlodaeus had been talking with Annaiette—the feeling was absurd because a skim of all the messages revealed nothing but innocuous, if not mundane, conversation, and it had been Annaiette herself who brought up the subject of the kweh—

“Oh, Hades,” said Hythlodaeus, softer now though Solus knew better than to let his guard down, “no need to fret—I don’t wish for her to be anything more than a friend. I’ll not stand in your way.”

And there it was. Solus caught the twitch in the corner of his mouth, the subtle movement in his eyebrows that betrayed his continued enjoyment at Solus’ expense—

“You may be disappointed to find that there is not, in fact, any sort of way for you to stand in,” Solus said in a dour huff. “So stand where you like, it makes no difference to me.”

His words just seemed to roll right off Hythlodaeus, who simply smiled and finished off the last of his drink.

“Well, regardless of where I stand,” he said once he’d fished the cherry out of the glass, “the fact remains that she has been the recipient of several less-than-savory messages because of her association with Solus Galvus. Continue looking the other way if that is what Solus wishes, but I know Hades to be a better man than that.”

Before Solus could say a word in response, Hythlodaeus got up and left for the restrooms with a slight sway in his step.

And in the silence left by his friend’s absence, Solus buried his face in his hands and let out a maddened, muffled groan.

Annaiette stood hands on hips in the middle of her kitchen and sighed.

The entire week had been filled with a mounting discomfort that was becoming more and more difficult to ignore, and it had gotten to the point where she finally concluded that she ought to cook hearty food in an attempt to distract herself. The plan had been to eat her fill and bring the rest to the office tomorrow, which was not at all unusual; today, however, she made the grand mistake of going to the grocery store anxious and hungry and with far too many meal ideas, and eventually found herself at home with all the ingredients to make them.

To say she might have gone overboard would be an understatement.

At first she assumed her increasing unease and subsequent grocery shopping disaster was simply due to the fact that she’d received several Kwehtr messages that were in fact harassment, but the hilariously juvenile content of said messages served as nothing but entertainment. There was nothing troubling her save for the number of brain cells sacrificed in reading the Kwehtr messages.

A strange anxiety coiled itself within her nonetheless.

She took another look at the state of her kitchen and let out another sigh. All of her scant countertop space was covered in dishes and bowls containing all the cooking prep she’d done in the past hour: chopped vegetables, marinating meats, pasta sheets awaiting their fillings…It was going to be a silly amount of food—enough to host a small dinner party, even—

The thought gave her pause. While she had absolutely no desire to throw a dinner party, she supposed having a friend or two over would be nice (for the company, and also for the extra mouths to eat the food). She glanced toward her phone with its dark and silent screen she tried not to think about it, as though it might have answers for her conundrum. And in a way, it did—the thought of her phone reminded her, among other things, that Nero had texted her something or other about one of his projects. And perhaps more importantly, reminded her that Nero was almost always up to eat free food and would quite happily spend time talking about whatever thing of his if she found herself tired of speaking.

Annaiette: Come eat food

If he was free, then she expected a quick reply. Silence, otherwise.

And not two minutes later—just long enough for her phone to lock itself whilst she stared blankly at the home screen—her phone buzzed with his response. She skimmed the message and immediately snorted in amusement before starting on her reply.

Nero: One of those days, is it

Nero: What ever could it be I wonder

Nero: Hahahahahahaha

Nero: Yes, I’ll come

Nero: Be there in a bell

Nero: I’m bringing the dainsleif

Annaiette: Shut it

Annaiette: Bring Cid if you want

Nero: Presumptuous of you to think I want Garlond in my presence at all times

Nero: It would be more accurate to say that it’s the other way around

Annaiette: 🤣

The prospect of company somewhat eased the anxiety within, and so she returned to her cooking with a smile.

Once the actual cooking began, her mind was blissfully occupied—she was juggling far too many dishes, two of which required the oven, and the timing and cooking of it all served as the perfect distraction. The words “never again” drifted through her head more than once, but deep within she knew she’d find herself in this situation again the next time she found herself unable to cope with stress like a normal person…

The knock on the door about a bell and a half later signaled Nero’s arrival. As was typical for him, he’d sent no notice that he was on his way, but Annaiette knew he’d be about this late and was grateful for the extra time to wash dishes and clean up before another person could behold the disaster that had been her kitchen.

She opened the door to a Nero who was conspicuously alone.

“Hey there, Nero.” She peered into the hallway as though Cid might suddenly materialize out of thin air. “No Cid today?”

“Garlond had some ‘very important’ and ‘time sensitive’ business matters to attend to,” said Nero, and though his hands were full whilst he removed his motorcycle gear, the air quotes were quite evident in his voice. “Third time he’s worked late this week, you should know.”

“And left little old you all helpless and alone at home, I suppose?” Annaiette asked teasingly.

Nero laughed as he draped his jacket across the back of the sofa and examined the food laid out on the kitchen counter. “I have been exceedingly helpless and alone and survive only on the goodwill of my very-stressed friend, who appears to have cooked enough food to feed ten people.”

“It’s all done, help yourself,” she replied, though Nero was already on his way to get a dish out of the cupboard.

“I’m quite interested to find out just what possessed you to cook so much food,” Nero asked gleefully as he cut into the lasagna. “You said yourself that the Kwehtr messages haven’t bothered you. So what, I wonder, could be getting the unflappable Annaiette down?”

She let out a small snort of laughter and gently elbowed him out of the way when he finished piling lasagna onto his plate. “It’s nothing to concern yourself with.”

Nero elbowed her right back as he squeezed past to get to the roast vegetables. “Nothing to concern myself with!” he scoffed. “Need I remind you that you invited me here? And why else would you invite me if not for me to concern myself?”

“Ah, I see my mistake now. Put the food back, I don’t want you here.”

“Too late, Annaiette, you won’t be rid of me now!” Nero cackled as he dodged the shove aimed at him and escaped to the living room.

He was already comfortable and nearly halfway through his lasagna by the time Annaiette joined him on the sofa. Her arse had scarcely touched the cushion before he looked up from his plate with his characteristic grin and said, “So what would you like me to concern myself with first? The overabundance of garlic in the mashed popotoes or your obvious anxiety around a certain Kwehtr situation?”

Annaiette set her phone on the coffee table before sitting back and prodding him with her foot. “It’s just the right amount of garlic, thank you. It’s hardly my fault that you don’t appreciate a few cloves of garlic.”

“I know that ‘a few cloves’ to you means an entire head of garlic—or more. I still recall the time you nearly killed me with that batch of spicy pickled cabbage you made. Did the store have any garlic left after what you did to those cabbages?”

It was her turn to cackle at his disgruntled face. “I very specifically warned you that you weren’t going to like it for many reasons, and did you listen? Of course not.” She made a point to scoop a spoonful of mashed popotos into her mouth while pointedly making eye contact.

“This is why we never could have worked, Annaiette. We are too different, you and I,” Nero replied with a small tsk of theatric disappointment.

“Well, that and also because a certain Cid Garlond occupies the space in your brain not already occupied by science and the like,” Annaiette snickered. “His name is constantly on the tip of your tongue.”

Nero’s fork had been on its way to his mouth, but he froze for a moment before putting it down with an indignant tink. “Garlond’s name is not constantly on the tip of my tongue. It’s not my fault that he is constantly compared to me.”

She could only laugh in response—any comparisons to Cid were almost always by Nero himself but she didn’t have the desire nor the energy to argue that point with him. Instead, she contented herself with doubtfully raising her eyebrows at him and turning her attention to her own portion of lasagna. The food was also enough to keep Nero’s mouth occupied as well, and she enjoyed the few minutes of silence that it afforded her.

As much as she genuinely enjoyed his wit, she enjoyed his silence in equal measure.

“So, Annaiette, now that I’ve concerned myself with your ludicrous garlic habits,” Nero finally continued after returning from a trip to the kitchen for seconds, “it’s time to concern myself with a more pressing matter: a certain kweh—”

“—which I’ve told you is not bothering me at all,” she interrupted with a frown.

Her frown only deepened when he laughed in response. “You’re terribly adamant that nothing is bothering you for someone who was stress-cooking, which I know you do when you are, in fact, bothered by something.”

The glee on his face was open and unabashed; being the target of which was normally tolerable but tonight was proving to be unexpectedly unbearable. She had expected him to arrive ready to talk incessantly about his tiny robot project—something she had actually, genuinely looked forward to hearing about—and had very much not expected him to be so persistently interested in her reasons for being bothered.

When she didn’t answer—or rather, when she was slow to because she wasn’t wolfing down her food like him—he grinned with a mischievous glint in his eye.

“If the kweh nor the messages aren’t the source of your obvious distress, then the only other possible explanation is the man at the root of it all: Solus Galvus himself!”

Annaiette very much wanted to shove that finger he held in the air into one or more (definitely more) unkind places.

Despite this, she didn’t do any shoving and instead stared him down and firmly insisted, “Or—and think about this carefully, Nero—it has nothing to do with Solus Galvus.”

There was a small beat of silence, one that Annaiette hoped signaled the end of the matter—a vain hope, she knew, because Nero wasn’t about to drop it now and she knew this but somehow it was still more tolerable for it to be Nero and his teasing than anyone else. But she had hoped that Cid would be present to temper his verve, and without him—

He let out a loud chortle of disbelief.

“Think about it carefully? Annaiette, remember who you’re talking to!” he laughed. She watched helplessly when Nero set his plate down onto the coffee table—she was now officially more interesting than eating—and found him scooting closer. “Come on, what is it? Has the public attention ruffled his feathers? Is he angry with you?”

“Ah yes, quite ruffled,” she agreed, her voice thick with sarcasm in a last-ditch attempt to allay the situation. “He was seen. In public. With a commoner from Leve, even!”

But Nero was far too invested now to respond to the sarcasm, and she could almost hear the thoughts whirring about in his head.

“I have trouble believing a tiny incident like that could do aught to someone like Solus Galvus,” he mused.

“Well, I’m sure What’s His Face is fine,” said Annaiette. She tried to look nonchalant despite her very non-nonchalant anxiety. “Haven’t spoken to him this week—it seemed best not to bother him after all that. I expect I’ll cause further problems.”

It was difficult to stem the urge to shrink away from the look of (somehow indignant) shock that appeared on Nero’s face.

“Do you mean to tell me that you have ghosted Solus Galvus?”

“I have not ghosted Solus Galvus!” Annaiette retorted, now indignant herself. “He asked if I was all right and I said I was, and that I would leave him be so I’d not cause problems. Haven’t heard anything after that.”

Nero was silent for a few moments—apparently this revelation was shocking enough that he required more than one to formulate a response.

“For someone so smart, you can be remarkably stupid at times,” he said finally, and he looked torn between sitting back in despair and physically slapping sense into her.

“Takes one to know one, I suppose,” she replied coolly, though she felt anything but—her skin was now slowly and uncontrollably warming.

There was silence between them—eyes fixed on the other’s in challenge, waiting to see who would crack first—

And in the same moment, both burst into laughter—loud, raucous laughter as Nero gave her shoulder a light, playful push. “Look at you, being smart with a treasured friend who only has your best interests in mind,” said Nero, grinning as he settled back on the other end of the sofa. “You should be grateful that you have my support, really.”

Annaiette arched an eyebrow. “And you believe my best interests include not ghosting Solus Galvus? Are you sure that’s not in your best interest?” She grinned to match his. “You were quite taken with him, if I recall.”

“I was not taken with him, it’s just not every day that your friend asks to bring another friend along and it turns out to be the founder of AnyderSoft!” Nero huffed. “It still boggles the mind that you called him ‘What’s His Face’ to his face…”

“Well, I can’t un-What’s His Face him so you’ll just have to deal with it,” said Annaiette airily, picking at the remaining mashed popotos on her plate as she took as subtle a breath as she could to ease the anxiety that had been slowly gripping her chest ever since their conversation’s downward spiral.

“I will be forever pained by this knowledge, Annaiette, I hope you’re happy.” He took his plate back from the table and speared the remaining vegetables on his fork.

“Very.”

He glanced up from his plate with a smirk. “Well, you don’t look it,” he said, his voice slightly muffled through his mouthful of vegetables. “That smile might fool other, less observant people, but I, on the other hand, see right through it.”

And out of a deep, ingrained reflex, she brushed his words off with a laugh. “Now who’s being presumptuous?”

“Again, you were stress-cooking, Annaiette. If you ask me—”

“I didn’t,” she interrupted.

Nero pretended not to hear and repeated more firmly, “—if you ask me, this Kwehtr situation obviously bothers you more than you’re willing to admit. You might as well admit to whatever it is and get on with your life.”

“I don’t have anything to admit!”

“Don’t you, though?” He glanced toward her with a look that was both knowing and smug and was absolutely infuriating. “I can spell it out nice and slowly for you, if that’s what you require. It’s a service I only provide to close friends, so you shouldn’t squander it.”

“No, no need,” Annaiette said brusquely before shoveling the last of her lasagna into her mouth and getting to her feet as she made her way to the kitchen. “If you’re going to spell out what I think you’re going to,” she called as she scooped stew onto her plate, “then all I have to say is that the very idea is ridiculous. As you are.”

He cackled from the living room.

“I’m being ridiculous? I’m only returning the favor, really.”

She turned from the stove to find Nero with his elbows resting on the back of the sofa and a wide grin on his face.

“Returning the favor?”

“Yes, returning the favor.” He pointed a finger at her. “Namely, your tireless efforts to push me at Garlond.”

“Wh—this is not the same situation at all!” She began eating her helping of stew in the kitchen, as it was far preferable to sitting on the sofa to suffer Nero’s smug accusations. This relief was short-lived, however, as he soon got up to join her.

“Isn’t it?” he asked, leaning against the counter beside her. The glee in his voice was softer now, gentler—such a rare event only stoked the warmth in Annaiette’s cheeks.

“It’s not,” she said firmly. “You and Cid were longtime friends and all you needed was one or a dozen kicks in the arse. I’ve known What’s His Face for what—four moons? And the notion that—I just—” Her heart was thundering in her chest and she huffed to quiet it. “The Kwehtr situation just—it made it clear that he is someone important, that this very much less important idiot had been What’s-His-Face-ing the godsdamned founder of AnyderSoft…Why would he want to even be friends with me, especially if I’m drawing bad Kwehtr attention just by being near?”

She hated how the words sounded on her tongue—she hated that at her age, she was as a child lamenting the loss of superficial school friends that had never really been friends at all…

Nero was silent for a moment, before letting out a long, excessively drawn-out noise of exasperation.

“You were never one to wallow in self-pity—” he began. Annaiette raised a hand to punch his arm but he quickly caught her wrist, tightening his grip as he leaned in just a bit—despite her own height, Nero was taller still and he loomed over her with a muted smirk. He held her there for a brief moment before releasing her wrist and continuing, “—which really goes to show just how bothered you are about this whole thing.”

And as he let her wrist go, she let out the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding in.

In an instant, the rare, soft expression on Nero’s face gave way to his all-too-familiar grin. “Lest you wallow for another fortnight and suddenly find that you’ve cooked an entire banquet, you ought to just get it straight from the chocobo’s mouth. That, or perhaps punch the chocobo in the mouth. Bestow upon him the violence you so crave.”

His words left her momentarily silent.

And in the wake of that thought came a laugh from the pit of her belly—small at first until it burgeoned into a loud, unrestrained, unrepentant laugh that quickly infected Nero and had the pair of them laughing like carefree idiots in her tiny kitchen.

“I’ll bestow you some violence—” Annaiette brandished a fist at him and he recoiled in mock fear—with a snicker, she pat his arm and set her plate down on the counter. “So, are you going to tell me about the Dainsleif or not? After all those pictures you sent me, I expect to be thoroughly impressed by it.”

Nero’s face immediately brightened with a different sort of glee. “You will be more than thoroughly impressed,” he said as he made for his backpack. “I just finished cleaning up a fresh body print before I came here, and you, my friend, shall have the privilege of helping me put it together!” He’d returned to the sofa by the time he finished speaking and was pulling out small 3D-printed pieces that looked straight out of a model kit. She liked doing this sort of thing—putting puzzles and models together—

The coil of anxiety loosened its grip ever so slightly, and Annaiette followed Nero back to the sofa with a smile.

Solus Galvus stared at his screen.

Chapter Text

The smell of cooking meat wafted into the air above the Leve parking lot, where they had set up a charcoal grill and were in the midst of an impromptu, late-afternoon barbeque.

Alphinaud was visiting from Sharlayan, and there was no better way for everyone to spend time together than to have a barbeque. The ever-reliable Tataru had gone out during the work day to procure suitable barbeque foods and supplies, and also bought enough fruit and wine to make a quick batch of sangria. They even had a sizable helping of seafood courtesy of Ardbert, who had come by with Lamitt and an assortment of fish, shrimp, and crabs that the pair caught just the day before.

The grill and spread of food was very specifically placed to have the parked cars and Seto obscure them from view from the street. Yuyuhase was a nosy little bastard and they—the Leve employees and Tataru especially—took pleasure in preventing him from seeing just what they were up to. They did take care to only drink alcohol inside the office or in discreet mugs and cups, however; they didn’t have the proper licenses to officially serve alcohol on the premises, so if they were drinking outside and Yuyuhase caught any hint of it and reported them to the police…

The whole of Leve rather liked Tataru’s sangria, and so it was an easy consensus to be as discreet as possible.

And so inside the office was where Annaiette currently sat, cup of sangria in hand as she stared blankly at the code on her monitor. The rest of her team (and likely almost all the office) had already left to eat and socialize, but she would be finished working shortly…which is what she’d said a bell ago when Tataru allowed them to pour the drinks. Constantly restarting the debugger because she kept losing her train of thought counted as work, right? It was frustrating, though, because after every restart it took anywhere from three to five minutes to get back into the proper state to reproduce the very annoying bug she was trying to fix, and if she accidentally mucked up a repro step due to mental autopilot or the other miscellanea preoccupying her brain, then that meant yet another three to five minutes to restart the process from the beginning.

There was quite a bit of miscellanea preoccupying her brain, and at the forefront of it all was Nero’s laser-targeted words burned into her mind:

     You were never one to wallow in self-pity, but it really just goes to show how bothered you are about this whole thing.

Stress-cooking, as Nero so aptly called it, had only briefly provided relief from the amount of bother that had built throughout the prior week. There was nothing to be bothered about, and yet here she sat.

Bothered.

She was absolutely not wallowing, however. She did not feel sorry for herself in the least; the more accurate emotions here were frustration (at this indistinct bother) and exasperation (at her frustration). Annaiette was confident the feelings would pass eventually—soon they would fade into the back of her mind and all she had to do was distract herself until then. Distract herself from Kwehtr (which had finally quieted down when the trolls realized she didn’t give a shite about them), distract herself from her phone…

Distract herself from the fact that Solus Galvus had been silent ever since The Incident.

Annaiette swore into her sangria cup when she botched a repro step yet again due to her traitorous muscle memory.

“Why are you still working? Seto is here and I’m frankly shocked you haven’t shoved your face in his feathers yet. I think he may be wondering where you are.”

She glanced up to find that Alisaie had dropped into Moenbryda’s chair with her arms crossed and a wry smile on her face.

“I’m almost done here,” Annaiette lied, laughing. It was true that she wanted very much to shove her face into Seto’s feathers, but she felt somewhat reluctant to socialize…

Alisaie leaned in to examine her screen and made a show of nodding in mock understanding. “I see, I see,” she said thoughtfully. She tapped the screen at the breakpoint that the debugger was waiting on. “I see the issue here. Have you considered throwing the computer out the window?”

Annaiette snorted and burst into full-on laughter.

“You know, I hadn’t. That will solve the problem nicely.”

Alisaie’s laughter quickly joined Annaiette’s. “I honestly don’t know what my brother is on about when he says software development is ‘difficult’ and ‘complex.’”

Although she joked, Alisaie was a skilled developer in her own right—she’d gone to university for it just as Alphinaud had and even worked briefly with Leve, but eventually she realized her interests lay elsewhere and left for a local non-profit charity organization. While her dissatisfaction and announcement of intent to leave hadn’t exactly been a surprise to everyone, she’d left quite suddenly but was almost immediately much happier for it; a fact which never failed to make Annaiette smile.

Despite the laughter and the smile and the measure of cheer that had come with it, Annaiette felt the weight within her temper it; she let out what she thought was a subtle sigh but Alisaie’s look of knowing meant that the sigh hadn’t gone unnoticed.

“Come on, it’s nearly the end of the day and Seto will get upset if you don’t come out to lavish attention on him,” Alisaie said finally as a grin appeared on her face. “Plus, you’d best get out there before Estinien eats all the squid.”

Her friend was not wrong—it was the end of the day and by now it was quite clear that her productivity had reached rock bottom. She was grateful, too, that Alisaie made no attempt to cajole her into talking about her anxieties; she couldn’t articulate them even if she wanted to, and she felt a not-insignificant amount of shame that someone so much younger than her was the one trying to cheer her up. Annaiette was the one who ought to be supporting others…

“Well, we can’t have Seto languishing from neglect, now can we?” said Annaiette, forcing a chuckle as she closed the debugger before taking one last look at her email (no new messages, thank gods) and locking her computer.

“The poor thing has never known love,” Alisaie replied wryly.

The eating and socializing was well underway when Alisaie and Annaiette emerged from the office, and the grill played host to several skewers of shrimp and squid and even a pair of crabs. What immediately grabbed Annaiette’s attention was not the array of food but the fact that Alphinaud was squatting along the curb, rubbing a whole crab on the corner.

“Alphinaud, what are you doing?” she asked, and took note of the laughs stifled by those around him, and how Tataru appeared to be filming him with her phone from behind a grinning Lamitt.

“Ah, Annaiette! I’m just trying to open this crab. I’m rather embarrassed to say that I’ve never done it myself,” said Alphinaud. “It seems we don’t have the proper tools and Lamitt assured me it would still be perfectly edible if I opened it with the corner of the curb, as one does with a can of food with no can opener.”

Annaiette let out a snort of amusement as Alisaie burst into full-on laughter.

“Is that what they told you?” Annaiette asked incredulously as her smile spread into a grin.

“Go on, save the boy from himself,” Lamitt chimed in, gesturing to Alphinaud with her mug.

With another laugh, Annaiette held out hand and Alphinaud reluctantly stood up to give her the crab. With one deft motion—held out toward Alphinaud to allow him a clear view of her fingers—she split the carapace off and held the now-separated pieces out to him. Laughter filled the air as she did so, and though Alphinaud was clearly embarrassed, he took it in stride and took the pieces gratefully.

“That certainly is faster than rubbing it on the curb, thank you,” he said as he laughed along. It didn’t take him long to compose himself, and he soon gestured toward the table of cooked meats—burgers, sausages, and seafood—and buns and condiments to go with them. “Have something to eat, Annaiette!”

While she hadn’t thought much of her stomach all afternoon, the sight of the food reminded her that she was actually quite hungry and she eagerly fixed herself a burger and dumped a pile of popoto crisps onto the plate next to it. And with her plate of food in hand, she stepped past her friends—smiling and nodding in greeting as she did, of course—and gave Seto a one-armed hug and buried her face in his neck feathers.

“I’m sorry it took me so long, Seto,” Annaiette murmured into his neck.

Seto bristled in clear disapproval at her tardiness.

I’ve been waiting so long to see you, he seemed to say, but his indignation only lasted for but a moment before he softened and let out a fond, rumbling croon.

She ate her food nestled comfortably against Seto’s chest as she watched Ardbert, who had taken pity upon poor Alphinaud and was kindly teaching him the best way to get meat out of a crab. In another life, she might have found herself in Ardbert’s shoes, spending her days with a trusty amaro—or chocobo, even—delivering things and traveling here and there and everywhere; her life had quite unfortunately taken a turn for the worse in her younger days, which had left her barely able to care for herself, let alone an amaro. But spending brief moments with Seto, who had taken a liking to her for inexplicable reasons when she first met him and Ardbert, was enough at this point in her life.

“Seto looks much happier now.”

Ardbert took a seat beside her and pat Seto’s chest twice, to which Seto replied with a rumble of agreement.

“I’m terrible for not petting him earlier,” Annaiette said ungracefully through her mouthful of burger. And when she finished the mouthful, she added, “So how have you been? Good fishing trip, I take it?”

Ardbert laughed and leaned back into Seto’s feathers as he reached up to ruffle them.

“Fantastic one, and much needed for me and Lamitt both. And Seto, of course!” he chuckled. “Saw some sharks and even a sunfish, it was amazing! Passed right under me when I was resting at the surface.”

Annaiette’s eyes widened in awe—and perhaps shamefully, a touch of envy. “That does sound amazing! I’m glad you had a good time.”

“Hah, thank you, friend. Oh!” Ardbert straightened up to gesture toward Lamitt, who was currently drinking directly out of a large growler. “We stopped by Superbolide on the way here to get beer, be sure to try it.”

“I assume there’s another inside,” Annaiette laughed.

“Ah yes, that one is Lamitt’s. There’s another growler inside.”

Ardbert settled back into Seto’s chest and let out a contented sigh, and for a few silent minutes they watched Leve and friends eat and make merry.

“You seem down today, Annaiette.”

She almost didn’t notice that he said anything—his voice was so gentle and he hadn’t moved so much as an ilm before speaking. Still, she stifled the urge to sigh in exasperation.

Was she really that obvious?

“Do I? I’m fine.”

The small hm she received in reply made it obvious he wasn’t fooled by her attempt to brush off his concern.

“I’ll not pry as I’m sure you have your reasons,” said Ardbert quietly and without looking at her. “Whatever it is, though, I know you’ll work through it. When in doubt, follow your gut.”

Annaiette exhaled slowly and nodded. Ardbert wasn’t wrong, and although his words were simple she found the weight in her chest lifted just a bit at the sound of them.

“Right…my gut.” She pulled herself off Seto (with some difficulty) and turned to Ardbert with a grin. “I think my gut says I need to try some of that crab.”

Immediately the air between them brightened and Ardbert laughed, giving her a nod of approval.

“About time! Try the fish too, it’s good!”

Restlessness was not something that often struck Solus. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d been so thoroughly restless—it was his nature to curl up in bed for hours on end rather than pace back and forth or search for things to distract himself. He wasn’t so incorrigible that he outright ignored Hythlodaeus’ pointed words at the restaurant the previous week, but he still hadn’t found it in him to actually do anything about it and instead suffered through a frustrating anxiety that grew steadily worse as the weeks—nearly two now—wore on. It was foolish to be so out of sorts over the Kwehtr incident that had happened weeks ago now; after all, Annaiette seemed perfectly fine if her Kwehtr timeline—which he most certainly did not check more often than he should—and her DMs with Hythlodaeus’ were any indication.

He wouldn’t personally know, of course, because she hadn’t sent him any messages since declaring her intent to not bother him.

And with the irritating anxiety came a sort of curiosity that had begun as a small whisper mingling between his thoughts, a creeping one he vehemently denied out loud but was helpless to control within the confines of his mind:

     Was she…uninterested?

It was certainly no concern of his that she was uninterested in Solus Galvus—Hythlodaeus’ insistence to the contrary be damned—but he couldn’t help but be intrigued by it. He was no stranger to women and men attempting to latch onto him—propositioning him, even—whether they desired him because of his money or his power or any number of other sycophantic reasons. But Annaiette was perplexing; she worked in the tech industry herself and knew perfectly well who he was apart from her earlier “What’s His Face” gaffe at the Leylines conference, but she had consistently treated him with a genuine congeniality that was foreign to him these days…

Was she playing the long game? Trying to use her charm to butter him up for whatever it was she actually wanted from him? Was it money? A job?

Or did she perhaps have some significant other that she left unmentioned over the moons that they had known each other? The fellow on the motorbike that had picked her up from the Ishgard Zoo, perhaps?

Not that any of this mattered at all.

Simple curiosity—or intrigue, perhaps—was all this was.

And what better way to sate the curiosity than to invite her over and finally figure out what made Annaiette Verdeleaux tick?

This drove his impulse to hire a cleaning service to tidy up his home and make it suitable for guests other than Hythlodaeus. Between work and the everything else, he had failed to do any real cleaning himself in recent days—takeout containers had piled up and his kitchen sink was shameful—and he was overwhelmed enough that he finally snapped and hired the cleaning service to handle it while he was busy at work. It had been quite a while since he’d allowed his home to become so embarrassing; it was a testament to the sheer level of nonsense preoccupying his mind.

All that cleaning had happened last week, though, and a week later he still hadn’t sent her so much as a greeting.

When the weekend finally arrived, the restless energy was enough to have Solus spend his morning pacing around the now-spotless kitchen, mug of coffee in hand as he tried and failed to listen to a tech podcast. He usually found some manner of enjoyment in this particular one, but this morning he found the hosts’ voices quickly grating on his nerves and eventually he turned it off and sat down to try and read instead. The silence with the words on screen was but a short-lived comfort, though; he grew more and more irritable as the time ticked by.

It was midmorning when he found himself staring out the window with a disgruntled scowl.

His home on the top floor of the tallest Centri high rise afforded him an unobstructed view of the deep blue hue of the cloudless, late summer sky. It was fascinating in a way that it usually wasn’t; perhaps he wanted for something to look at that wasn’t technology nor people associated with it. A tiny voice in the back of his head reminded him that there was a perfectly usable trail just down the hill from his home that would allow him to do quite a bit of not looking at technology, and it was a trail he had never stepped foot on despite his many years living in Mor Dhona.

The tiny voice also reminded him that a certain Leve developer once ran up and down the trail as a form of atonement for her sins.

His brow furrowed deeper as he carefully sidestepped the thought and instead thought of Elidibus, who was always fussing over their wellbeing and insisting that they—“they” meaning the high-level AnyderSoft execs that Elidibus considered friends—spend more time outdoors to decompress from work. Today would be the day where he finally went outside for a walk for no other reason than to follow Elidibus’ advice.

Solus quickly got to his feet and made his way to change into something appropriate for outside—he went quickly, lest the looming uncertainty in the back of his mind dig its claws in and drag him back to brood on the sofa.

There were a couple benefits to lacking the energy to dress in nicer clothing on the weekend. The first of which was that he became surprisingly unrecognizable; he supposed people generally didn’t expect Solus Galvus to be out and about in unassuming sweatpants and hoodies, and he was even more unrecognizable if he also wore sunglasses and a hat to conceal his shock of white hair and Garlean third eye. Secondly—perhaps most importantly—not fussing over his appearance meant that it took him no time at all to get ready, which in turn meant less time for his mind to twist itself into a knot and convince himself that he needn’t take that walk outside.

He’d very nearly allowed the doubt to take hold and had been on the verge of getting back into bed after changing his clothes, but the urge to be outdoors just barely won. He finally found himself outside despite it being arguably the worst part of the day to go outside—it was nearly noon now and still uncomfortably hot even in the waning days of summer—but it had been such a mental struggle to get this far that he was determined to at least step foot on the trail.

But first things first: he had to find the trail.

Solus knew that the trail existed and that it was one well-trafficked by people both on foot and on bicycles, but he didn’t actually know how to get onto it. He had no desire to squint at maps on his phone in the bright daylight, so he elected to wander north of the tram stop in hopes of finding an entrance. This instinct proved to be the right move; he soon came upon a sign for the Thaliak Trail that directed trail-goers to a short underpass under the tram rails which then connected to the trail proper.

Despite the sun and heat, the Thaliak trail was decently busy with walkers, runners, and cyclists. It was a paved trail in good condition—just recently paved within the past five years, he suspected—and it was clean and clear of debris. The trail acted as a sort of border between the urban area of Centri and a nature reserve protecting a chunk of hilly shrubland in the Mor Dhona metropolitan area, and if he remembered correctly, there was a small network of unpaved trails crisscrossing through the reserve itself.

He glanced up the hill leading north—the massive one that Annaiette allegedly used for exercise—and found himself curious to see what the view of the nature reserve would look like from the top. In pursuit of this curiosity, he began the trek up the hill with his hands stuffed into his pockets. It wasn’t difficult to see why the trail was popular, with the well-maintained pavement and its view of the nature reserve in the midst of an ever-growing metro. He couldn’t keep himself from begrudgingly wondering how he had never come here despite living just a few blocks away. He did his fair share of wandering the wilderness in Garlemald…why had he stopped?

Sweat was beading on his face by the time he reached the top of the hill. It looked large to the eye and definitely felt even more so while walking it. Annaiette was physically fit enough to run up and down this hill multiple times, and then here he was, breathing heavier than he ought to just from walking up the hill once. He could blame the noontime heat, but he knew in the depths of his heart that it was because he hadn’t properly exercised in overlong…

Solus breathed a sigh of relief when he reached the crest of the hill and cast his eyes across the shrubland below.

It was far from a grand, picturesque landscape but it was still a very nice slice of nature in the midst of the bustling metro that Mor Dhona had become. Despite its browning vegetation, the sight of it—of the expanse of nature stretching out below—was calming in a way, and as he took a few slow breaths the buzzing in his mind slowly faded into the background.

In the small dirt clearing off the trail, a pair of benches sat facing the hills below, unoccupied and would hopefully remain so for at least a little while. He sank into the furthest one, taking a few slow, deliberate breaths and relishing the calm and the quiet.

Elidibus is sure to be proud, he thought wryly.

The view quickly lost its modest luster, though, when people arrived to rest and enjoy the view. It wasn’t as though they were bothering him—they were busy resting or taking photos, as was their right—but the usual mild anxiety that accompanied crowds was beginning to encroach upon his calm. There was a time and place to chat with strangers about AnyderSoft or technology, but now was not the time and this trail was not the place; he didn’t have the energy today to put on the charismatic, PR-approved Solus Galvus face, but he did have the energy to get up and take his leave before the need for the PR face arose.

As he got to his feet with his back carefully toward the people, a dirt trail leading down the hill and into the reserve caught his eye. The curiosity that had driven him here stirred at the sight of it, and out of a desire to satiate this rare curiosity as well as keep away from crowds of people, he threw caution to the wind and began making his way down. The trail wound around the hillside and was just narrow and rough enough that care was required lest he trip and slide down the hill on his face. The sweat on his face was growing more and more irritating since he was looking downwards and he quickly found his sunglasses beginning to slip down his nose.

When he could no longer suffer the sliding of his glasses, he paused under a tree at a bend in the trail and whipped the hat and sunglasses off to quickly wipe his face on a sleeve. He had half a mind to stand there in the shade to enjoy the landscape from here, but he heard the sound of footsteps coming from down the trail around the bend. A moment later, though, he realized the footsteps were approaching much faster than he initially thought; someone was running up the trail, and the trail at the bend had little room to move aside for the person rounding the corner—

Solus’ breath stopped in his chest as he met Annaiette Verdeleaux’s eyes.

Time slowed and he saw her eyes widen in surprise—he saw her legs shift mid-stride to keep from crashing into him, and how her forward foot planted just on the edge of the trail—

Annaiette let out a yelp as the dry ground gave way just enough for her to slip—she was going to fall onto the hillside and without a second thought, Solus reached out to grab her. But his hand closed around air—he missed her by mere ilms and she hit the ground—he watched in horror as her momentum sent her five fulms down the slope on her stomach before the shrubbery finally stopped her.

“Annaiette!” Solus exclaimed as he scrambled down the hill after her. “Are you all right?”

She lay with her face on the ground for a long moment—Solus reached down to try and help her up but hesitated when she stirred, groaning and painstakingly pulling herself to her feet. The dry hillside wasn’t the easiest to stand on and she slipped a bit and wobbled backward, and instinct took hold as Solus’ arm shot out to steady her before she could take a far more dangerous tumble backwards.

“Ah, I’m sorry—are you all right—?” Annaiette sputtered, concern mingled with obvious embarrassment on her face.

Solus gave her an incredulous look. “Am I all right? You’re the one who just took a hillside to the face.”

Before Solus could even think to help her back to the trail, she had already clambered back up and had turned back to offer him her hand. He stared at her hand for a moment—something felt quite incorrect about this configuration but he supposed the hill was no place to argue it so he reached out to take it. Her grip was startlingly firm and he found himself quickly pulled back to the trail with a strength belied by her lean form.

“‘Hero’ is all the more fitting for you, it seems,” said Solus wryly to conceal his mild surprise and embarrassment. “Are you all right? Because it is quite clear that the hill is much the worse for wear after your brief battle.”

Her bright laugh brought an unexpected relief. “I didn’t make it out entirely unscathed but I’m fine. It was worth it to ensure the safety of Your Radiance the Emperor.”

She let out another laugh as she dusted herself off, oblivious to Solus’ disbelieving silence—one brought on partly by the casual, offhand Emperor quip, but mostly by the series of scrapes dotting her legs and the dark blood oozing from them.

“And I’m meant to believe that being fine entails bleeding from an…impressive assortment of injuries?” he retorted once he found his voice.

His concern was met with a small scoff and a chuckle. “No need to be quite so dramatic, I’ve had worse,” Annaiette said as she knelt down to examine her wounds.

“I am hardly being dramatic,” Solus continued, frowning when she ignored him and unbuckled her little backpack to pull out a small water reservoir.

“I don’t have my first aid kit but a little water should do until I get home.” She didn’t look at him, but he saw the smile on her lips as she opened the reservoir and gingerly poured water out over the scrapes and blood on one leg. Despite her ostensibly bright words, though, Solus heard the veiled pain in them and saw the smallest of winces as the water touched the open wounds. But she quickly ran out of water, and the sight of her kneeling with one wet and still-bloodied leg and remaining dusty, bloodied other was so pitiful that he found his mouth opening to speak—

“I live nearby. You may rest and get cleaned up there…should you wish,” he heard himself saying.

He only realized what he said when she looked up and met his gaze with wide eyes of—disbelief? Panic?

“I do happen to be in possession of a first aid kit,” Solus added with a wry smirk to mask his growing anxiety, and surely Annaiette could hear the sudden, uncontrollable pounding in his chest—

“Oh no, I’m really perfectly fine!” Annaiette said, hastily getting to her feet. Still she insisted she was fine, yet he saw how her leg buckled just slightly when she put weight on the one she’d tried—and mostly failed—to wash.

“If the idea makes you uncomfortable, I could bring the kit down to the lobby for you. Or even back here, if you’ve taken a liking to this particular corner of the trail.”

She was thinking hard about it—she was like to make an excuse to take her leave, surely—Solus was ready to rescind the offer, if only to put her at ease—

“I’d love to, thank you,” she said, her head bobbing once. “I perhaps shouldn’t hop on the tram looking like I lost a bout with the ground.”

“Didn’t you?” Solus asked lightly as she repacked the reservoir into her backpack.

“It may have looked that way to the untrained eye, but I got a good few hits in, don’t you worry.” Her laugh was loud in the relative silence of the trail, and she grinned roguishly as she began the trek back, rapping his arm with her knuckles as she passed.

Solus coughed to quell the tiny flutter in his chest as he followed behind her.

When they emerged from the dirt trail and onto the paved main trail, Annaiette wheeled around on her heel to face him—on her good one, and not the one she’d been subtly limping on all the way here. “And now I think you ought to lead the way,” she said brightly, “unless you’d like me to guess which building it is. It may take a while but I shall do my best.”

He started down the way he’d come and she dutifully fell in step with him. “As entertaining as that may be, I fear that time is of the essence. Who knows when the hill will seek out its revenge?”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her put a fist to the opposite palm in an obvious show of future violence.

“And I’ll be ready!”

Solus smirked and allowed himself a small chuckle, which he hoped was enough to mask the growing unease as they made their way to his home. There was no rational reason for it; his home was clean and she was simply stopping by to avail herself of the first aid kit, and that was all. Certainly nothing of consequence, and certainly nothing that merited this ridiculous anxiety. He was far too old for the unease that so often plagued the younger and less experienced—he was the Solus Galvus, after all, and he had experience. Of all kinds.

So why, then, did he feel so utterly out of sorts?

“Here we are,” said Solus when they reached the main door of his building.

Annaiette let out a small laugh—forced, almost. “Ah. This one.”

The doorman pulled the lobby door open for them. “Good afternoon, Mr. Galvus,” he said, a placid smile on his face.

“Good afternoon,” Solus replied absently; he was preoccupied with Annaiette and the odd apprehension that seemed to have overcome her as she followed him inside toward the elevators. “What’s the matter?”

“This building was going to be my second guess,” she laughed. Her voice was bright but he heard a hint of strain just beneath the surface.

“Oh? What was your first guess?” he asked lightly as they arrived at the elevator call pad. He tapped his floor number in and glanced at the small camera just above the screen—a moment later, one of the elevators opened and he gestured for Annaiette to enter.

“The other high rise a block away was going to be my first guess.” She paused a moment when the elevator doors closed before turning to him with curiosity in her eyes. “Does that elevator pad use facial recognition?”

“It does, in fact. Only approved guests can access my floor—unless I’m present, obviously.” He let out a small laugh. “The doormen and security guards are quite good and usually catch them before they make it to the elevators, but particularly determined people can get by. That’s where facial recognition helps.”

“Does that happen often?” Annaiette asked, horrified.

“No, but it happened more than once, which is enough for the tech to be worth it.”

The elevator soon reached his floor, and as he made for his door—the only door in the hallway—he became acutely aware of the fact that Annaiette was growing more and more bewildered by the moment—

“Facial recognition on your front door as well?” she asked with a small laugh.

He pressed his thumb to the doorknob panel and pushed the door open when it made a small beep and unlocked. “Fingerprint, actually. I’ve been too busy to set up facial recognition for the door.”

Solus felt a strange sort of self-consciousness as he led Annaiette inside; he was not ashamed in the least that his hard work with AnyderSoft afforded him the means to live in the penthouse of this high-rise, but here he couldn’t help but become more and more anxious as Annaiette’s bewilderment grew—

“Have a seat while I fetch the first aid kit,” he said, gesturing toward the sofa as he went to look for the kit. He couldn’t quite remember where he had put it as he had little occasion to use it, but he vaguely remembered putting it in the back of his bathroom cupboard a year or three ago.

When he finally found it, dusty and wedged behind a tub of cleaning supplies in the cupboard, he emerged from his bedroom whilst examining its list of contents. “This should have what you—” He paused when he glanced up from the kit, raising his eyebrows questiongly. “Why are you just standing there, hero?”

Annaiette was standing beside the sofa with no shoes on as she looked about the living room, and though she seemed relaxed as could be it felt at odds with the nervous, almost embarrassed laugh that came out of her mouth. “I didn’t want to get your furniture bloody, that’s all.”

Solus was very rarely speechless, but this woman seemed able to render him thus with such ease.

“The sofa can be cleaned, my dear,” he finally said.

She shrugged and gave him a cheeky grin.

“And ruin your weekend? Perish the thought.” She stepped forward and held out a hand for the kit. “Some antibiotic cream and a bandage or five ought to hold me over until I can get home.”

His chest nearly caved when her fingers brushed against his as he passed her the kit, and inwardly he cursed this uncharacteristic…reaction. What was he, fourteen summers old?

“You’re welcome to use the shower to rinse yourself off—the shower has a detachable head,” he said once he’d gathered himself. “Or if you’d like to just take a shower outright, there is soap and shampoo.”

Annaiette laughed—a flustered one this time to match the flustered smile on her face—and Solus noticed her ear tips turning pink. “Ah, that’s very nice of you! A quick rinse should work just fine, though!” Her voice was ostensibly brighter with a sort of eager enthusiasm, but the deepening flush creeping across her ears and cheeks told a different story.

“Whatever you wish to do, you’ll find all you need in the guest bathroom,” said Solus, carefully keeping his eyes off her lest he find his skin reddening to match hers. “I feel I must reiterate that things can be cleaned—don’t concern yourself with dirtying the towels.”

“And—where is the bathroom?”

“First door on the left down the hall. I’ll be out here, call for me if you need something.”

He waited until she was out of view to exhale slowly in an attempt to fend off the anxiety and frustration threatening to overcome him. The frustration stemmed from the mere existence of this anxiety; he had nothing to prove to Annaiette and so there should be none.

So why was he stumbling here?

Why was he now pacing in his kitchen, agonizing over whether he should ask if Annaiette would like to stay for dinner? He knew she was uninterested in him, but she was so very perplexing and he thought he could learn quite a lot about her, given time of course. But she had just gotten injured on the trail—surely she was ready to go home and get properly cleaned up.

The sound of the shower running pulled him from his thoughts.

The water didn’t run for long, though, so he supposed she decided to simply rinse herself off and would be finished patching herself up soon. But the minutes went by—increasingly silent minutes—and Solus had a mind to check on her when he heard her voice:

“Erm—Solus, do you think you could help me?”

His body moved on its own and he hurried to the bathroom. The sight of her bare back momentarily stunned him, but the speechlessness gave way to horror at the full extent of what that hillside had done to her. She had removed her shirt—sport bra still present—and was standing with her side to the bathroom mirror as she attempted to get a good look at the collection of angry scrapes across her skin. He knew she’d landed on a patch of shrubs but it was obvious now that they had been particularly dry and thorny ones that had somehow managed to get around her side and even onto her back.

“Sorry, I hope you’re not squeamish about blood,” Annaiette said apologetically. Her face was pink. “I can’t quite see the scrapes properly and there are splinters or thorns or the like. Do you think you could…?”

“Of course,” Solus said without hesitation, taking the offered tweezers and leaning in to examine her wounds.

“Thank you so much,” Annaiette said, embarrassment heavy in her voice. “I thought about asking my friend to come to my apartment to help get them out but then I’d never hear the end of it…”

“My lips are sealed.” He held a finger over her skin and glanced up at her. “May I?”

“Go ahead, it’s all right.”

Fortunately for her, most of the wounds were relatively superficial—clearly she’s gotten some of the dirt out when she used the shower but true to her suspicions, there were some number of splinters—or thorns, more like—stuck in her skin.

“I’m impressed that you managed all this from one tumble down the hill,” Solus said wryly as he squinted at the splinters. “Was there a cactus? My goodness, hero.”

“You decided to stand at a very pokey part of the hill,” she laughed, and Solus took care not to look at the way her muscles flexed as she did so. “Still, better me than you, I think.”

Solus plucked the largest thorn out and dropped it into the waste bin. “And why is that?”

“Can’t have What’s His Face going to work full of thorns and splinters. Next thing you know, someone on Kwehtr will be talking about how you’re channeling a cactuar or some such.”

“Ah, Kwehtr.” He trailed off into silence. The next one required some cajoling to get out and he was trying to keep himself from dissolving into irrational panic over squeezing her skin the way he was—as he did all this, he was vaguely aware of a small voice in the back of his mind reminding him of a particular Kwehtr situation and its lack of resolution—

“Sorry, silly joke,” Annaiette said quietly. She didn’t laugh this time.

But before he could rein in his thoughts, before he could find the words of apology he should have said long ago, he heard the beep that signaled that his front door was open—

Then a voice—the very last one he wanted to hear at this exact moment—

“Hades? Do you want to go out for dinner? There’s a new—”

“Oh—ah—hello,” came Annaiette’s voice.

Solus looked over his shoulder in horror to find Hythlodaeus smiling in the doorway of the bathroom.

The three of them stood in motionless silence.

“It appears I am interrupting something. My sincerest apologies,” Hythlodaeus said finally after a fraught eternity, his smile unwavering. “I’ll call you later, my friend.”

“Wait, Hythlodaeus—” Solus started as Hythlodaeus withdrew from the bathroom door with an ever-widening grin.

Solus turned to follow him, but Hythlodaeus was already at the door—

“I’ll call you later. Or tomorrow,” Hythlodaeus said quietly, though his grin all but screamed gleeful triumph. “Have fun, Hades.”

“Hythlodaeus, that’s not—”

But Solus was speaking to the closed door now; he wrenched it open and caught sight of Hythlodaeus’ impish wave as he stepped into the elevator—

Chasing after Hythlodaeus would be a fruitless, unproductive endeavor and so he instead slapped his palm to his face and took a few moments to let out a just-restrained growl of frustration. Doing this was equally unproductive but it did at least provide him some measure of calm in the wake of his friend’s sudden arrival and equally sudden departure.

When he returned to the guest bathroom, Annaiette had put her shirt back on and appeared to have just finished cleaning up the first aid kit and the assortment of wrappers that had been on the counter.

“What are you doing?” Solus asked, frowning. “You still had a few thorns in you.”

“Oh, not to worry! You got the hardest-to-reach ones out—I can handle the rest at home,” she said with a grin as she handed the kit back to him.

She didn’t wait for him to respond as she stepped past him and made for the living room. It was clear that Hythlodaeus’ untimely arrival had spooked her, and though he could sympathize he rather thought her the sort of person to brush that sort of thing off…

“Are you quite sure?” he asked as he followed her out. “They did look rather painful.”

Her laugh was light but absolutely unconvincing. “These are nothing! It’ll take more than a few thorns to stop me.” Her grin was ostensibly untroubled but it was as unconvincing as her laugh. She definitely appeared conflicted—she’d quickly taken her leave of the bathroom but seemed to not have thought any further than that.

And without a moment’s thought—

“Would you—like to stay for dinner?” Solus heard himself ask. “I’ve regrettably not done any grocery shopping this week—” (or the week prior, or the week prior to that) “—but I could order something. If you’d like.”

“I’m—I should probably get going,” she said, shouldering her backpack. Her eyes and her smile—both were apologetic. “Thanks for inviting me over and pulling those thorns out, and I’m sorry if there was a misunderstanding with your friend.”

Solus inwardly cursed Hythlodaeus’ penchant for letting himself in whenever he fancied.

“If you feel you need to leave because of Hythlodaeus, don’t. This is—unfortunately—quite normal for him.” So as to emphasize his point, he smirked and gave an unbothered if slightly exasperated shrug.

Annaiette hastily shook her head. “No, no, it’s just that I’m meeting up with friends later this evening! I ought to get home and change.”

Confusingly, she seemed to be getting flustered—she fidgeted on her feet but it seemed her ankle was more injured than she wanted to admit—her leg buckled slightly and she took a step backwards to catch herself—

There was a small crunch—

A length of faded plastic protruding from underneath the sofa was partly crushed under her foot, and though she quickly stepped off it, the damage was done.

“Ah—I’m sorry!” Annaiette sputtered.

The cleaning people must have forgotten to push it back under the sofa where he normally kept the object: a cheap toy sword that had faded from hot pink to a sort of yellowed salmon, gifted to him as a joke nearly twenty years ago by the long-lost friend he knew only by the name Azem. He was a remnant of Solus’ younger years, one which he was too obstinate to simply forget despite not caring an onze about, and so Solus had unceremoniously relegated his memory to an existence underneath the sofa.

“It’s—it’s fine, hero, not your fault,” Solus said, kicking the sword back under the sofa where it belonged. “It’s just rubbish.”

“I’m sorry all the same,” Annaiette said firmly. “A hero shouldn’t step all over your things.”

“I expect that comes part and parcel with the violence,” said Solus with a wry laugh, and her own laugh was a small relief. “Would you like a ride home? I can drive you.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about me!”

The immediacy of her response was inexplicably disheartening, and he forced a smile to hide his mild confusion.

“Very well. Then how about I walk you outside?”

Her smile and the crinkle of her eyes were genuine this time. “It would be an honor to have What’s His Face walk me outside.”

Few words were shared between them during the elevator ride down, though, and after a short wave goodbye before she trotted off for the tram stop, Solus found himself alone in his home once again.

azem: Hey, are either of you busy tonight?

the best leveilleur: No, why?

azem: I need help picking thorns out of my skin
azem: orz

the best leveilleur: Omg
the best leveilleur: I’ll be free after 4

LunarHaken: I’m free after 5ish

azem: I’ll order food, bring alcohol because I’m out of liquor

the best leveilleur: 🤣🤣🤣

LunarHaken: Oh boy I can’t wait to hear what this is about

In this moment, Hythlodaeus was in fact doing work: he had a whole host of emails to respond to, some of which involved the budget approvals for the self-driving car trials, and others for the second iteration of their HoloSpecs head-mounted augmented reality device. The materials engineering aspects of the HoloSpecs emails were far beyond his field of expertise and he had his hands full trying to cajole a more layman explanation of the problem space out of the relevant engineers; while he thought he had a grasp on the problem based on the graphs and tables they had provided, their explanation was rather lacking and he very much wished to understand just how they had rendered their current and very expensive batch of custom-ordered plastic parts unusable in such a short amount of time.

A polite knock on his office door drew his attention. He thought he might know who that knock belonged to.

“Come in,” he called.

Hythlodaeus smiled when Elidibus peered inside. “To what do I owe this pleasure?” he said brightly as Elidibus entered and took a seat on the other side of his desk. By now he could easily tell if Elidibus was there to talk about work or to talk about personal matters, and it was clear today that Elidibus had something of a non-work nature to talk to him about.

“If you aren’t busy, I wanted to ask you about Hades,” Elidibus began, though he quickly corrected himself. “Or rather, that Elezen woman in the photo with him.”

“I always have time for you, my friend. What of her?” said Hythlodaeus with a smile. It was really only a matter of time before Elidibus came to him directly about the drama in their friend’s life, so concerned he was with Hades’ wellbeing.

“What do you know about her?” Elidibus asked. A few unsaid words seemed to linger on his tongue, though, so Hythlodaaeus waited patiently to see if they might come out. After a brief pause Elidibus continued, “I’m sure you’ve seen the things people said about her on Kwehtr—making her out to be awful, of course. And I’m certain it’s all nonsense with no basis in reality, but I can’t help but worry that—”

Hythlodaeus put up a hand to stop Elidibus lest his worries spiral further. “No need to fret. I can assure you that she is a very pleasant person—the polar opposite of the gold-digging siren that Kwehtr decided she is.” His smile widened slightly. “You’re sure to like her.”

They sat in a tense silence—or rather, Hythlodaeus cheerfully waited in silence whilst Elidibus tensely gave him a searching look.

“What do you know, Hythlodaeus?” Elidibus asked slowly.

Hythlodaeus grinned. “I can’t say that I know anything for certain, but I have my theories.”

Elidibus let out a tiny chuckle.

“You are very rarely wrong about these things.”

And it was here that Hythlodaeus saw the perfect opportunity to get Elidibus on board with a bit of wholesome entertainment. Not quite at Hades’ expense though his friend was sure to see it that way.

“What do you think about inviting her to the Machina Minds Summit? You’ll be able to see for yourself what she is like,” he asked brightly. Elidibus arched an eyebrow at him.

“I thought we were capped on attendance for that long ago.”

“Oho! We were indeed, but the last-minute cancellations have come in and it just so happens that we have a handful of open seats,” Hythlodaeus said with carefully-contained glee. “She would not be out of place in the least and I daresay she might even have quite a bit to offer, despite what she might think.”

The Machina Minds Summit was the annual artificial intelligence summit they held on the AnyderSoft campus. It was generally a small, low-key affair; while it had grown to the point that they typically had a handful of speakers (AnyderSoft speakers and guest speakers both), the event was intended to be less a conference and more as a way of facilitating dialog among those working in the artificial intelligence industry. It was an event that Hythlodaeus very much looked forward to each year.

Elidibus crossed his arms and thoughtfully drummed his fingers on a bicep. “But Hades hasn’t made a proper appearance at Machina Minds in years now,” he murmured, brow furrowed.

Hythlodaeus’ grin only grew wider.

“He will if she attends.”

“Wouldn’t it be terribly transparent of us? Hades will see through it straight away,” Elidibus continued. The furrow in his brow deepened.

“Oh, he absolutely will and he’s sure to come fuss at me about it as soon as he finds out. But he doesn’t control Machina Minds attendance, and he will have no compelling reason to deny her entry should he try,” Hythlodaeus laughed. “He will be incapable of hiding in his office during the summit if she decides to attend. That much will be clear to you, should that day come.”

Elidibus looked both incredulous and impressed. “You’re that confident,” he said, and it was not a question but a statement.

“I wouldn’t be suggesting it if I wasn’t,” Hythlodaeus replied, his voice almost singsong.

Elidibus thought silently for a few moments more before exhaling and nodding.

“Do it, then. And let me know if she accepts.”

“You’ll be the first to know.”

There was a momentary silence between them. Hythlodaeus could sense that Elidibus had just one more thing he wanted to say, and so he waited patiently for whatever it might be.

“There’s one more thing.”

Hythlodaeus smiled and nodded.

“Hades suddenly called off work today with no explanation,” Elidibus continued. “It's so unlike him to do this…Can you check that he’s all right? As you can imagine, he is not very forthcoming in his text messages.”

This was certainly news to Hythlodaeus; he’d heard naught from his dear friend since the weekend. “I’ll check on him first thing after work today.”

“Thank you, my friend.”

Chapter Text

Engineers scattered to make way for the force of nature currently storming through their office, hurrying to get out of sight lest their presence be the tipping point where the carefully-controlled rage spilled over.

It wasn't often that Solus Galvus found his way to their building, but veteran employees knew that the reasons for his presence were rarely good. They also knew, though, that the target of Solus Galvus’ rage was rarely them and almost certainly their director Hythlodaeus, and so long as they stayed out of the way and didn’t draw attention to themselves, they would be perfectly safe. It was common knowledge that the director and Solus Galvus were longtime friends—though “friend” often felt like the wrong term, given how they interacted at times—so either Solus Galvus was here to be angry about business or here to be angry about something the director had done outside of it; either way, if the director was involved then he would do his utmost to shield them from whatever it was.

And so when Solus Galvus rounded the corner to the director’s office, the thick tension in the room quickly dissipated.

“Hythlodaeus!”

The Hythlodaeus in question looked up from his monitor with a smile as his dearest friend burst into his office with anger and indignation and an accusation on the tip of his tongue.

“Good morning, Hades! What are you doing all the way out here?” said Hythlodaeus brightly in exactly the untroubled tone that would rile Hades up further.

“What are you trying to pull?” Hades demanded as though Hythlodaeus knew what he could have been talking about (Hythlodaeus did know what he could have been talking about).

“You’ll have to be more specific, my friend,” said Hythlodaeus sweetly.

“The change to the Machina Minds guest list!” Hades snapped. If this were ten years ago, he might have slammed a printout of event details onto his desk; instead, he brandished his phone at Hythlodaeus, whose eyesight at his age was nowhere near good enough to read the tiny print on the screen. Still, he knew exactly what on the page irked his friend so.

Hythlodaeus might have vibrated with glee but with his lifetime of experience he carefully, expertly kept himself calm.

“One of our guests had to cancel, so I found a suitable replacement.”

“And the replacement just happens to be Annaiette Verdeleaux?” Hades scoffed. “I can suffer your meddling outside of work, but this is taking it too far!”

Hythlodaeus’ smile grew a little wider as he leaned forward to rest his chin on his hand. “‘Too far’? I’m afraid you’ll have to speak plainly.”

“Did you invite her just to get a rise out of me? How do you think she will feel to be put on the spot like that?”

“Do you feel that she is unqualified to speak at Machina Minds, Hades?”

Predictably, Hades faltered at his words.

“Wh—no, that isn’t—that isn’t what I meant at all!”

“I didn’t invite Annaiette,” Hythlodaeus said lightly. “I reached out to the Leve execs and expressed interest in having one of their engineers speak in the canceled Bismarck slot. It was their choice to send Annaiette.”

Hades made the familiar, choked noise that he made whenever he was backed into a corner.

“I, for one, look forward to listening to her talk,” Hythlodaeus continued when it became clear that Hades was stumbling over his tongue. “If you haven’t looked at the details, it’s about their use of machine learning to generate optimal and safe routes when routing for pedestrians.”

The way Hades’ brows twitched upwards betrayed his interest in the topic as well.

“And her work experience is nothing to sneeze at,” Hythlodaeus mused as though to himself, “not to mention her past projects.”

“Hmph.”

It seemed that Hades was too far into his frustration to take the bait.

Hades crossed his arms in an irate huff, his eyes averted and darting back and forth as his brain churned. Eventually, he met Hythlodaeus’ gaze and turned slightly for the door. “I’m going for coffee if you want to come.”

Without hesitation, Hythlodaeus hopped up onto his feet—he’d had enough of emails this morning, and he hadn’t any meetings until the afternoon.

“Let’s go!”

Coffee was where Annaiette happened to be heading early this morning, and she very dearly needed it.

She’d spent the previous evening anxiously reviewing her notes and slideshow one last time before the Machina Minds summit. The summit—essentially a mini conference these days, it seemed—was one she had never attended, but here she was, preparing to give a short presentation on Leve tech that was incidental to their actual service. When Machina Minds staff reached out to Minfilia about filling the vacant speaker slot, she’d approached Annaiette to ask if she would be willing to present.

Annaiette had at first attempted to foist the task onto someone else; she felt vastly unqualified to be presenting anything at Machina Minds, but Y’shtola and Moenbryda had adamantly insisted that she was best suited for the job since she built most of the machine learning tech (but Annaiette suspected they simply had no desire to speak in front of an audience of engineers). And so she’d spent the past two weeks preparing what she hoped would be an informative presentation for people who were very likely to be much smarter than her. With that audience in mind, she’d gone through seven or eight revisions of the slideshow, and had forced Y’shtola and Moenbryda to listen to as many iterations of her presentation as fair recompense for taking on the guest speaker role in their stead.

The stress of preparing a talk had been magnified tenfold by the fact that said talk was happening on the AnyderSoft campus. Where Solus Galvus worked. She was still intensely embarrassed about the fiasco at his home despite their very normal (if a little stiff) conversations since, and this fed directly into the uncontrollable anxiety about whether her talk was even worth his time. She’d found his talk at the Leylines conference interesting, but would he be able to say the same about hers? He was such a busy and important individual, would he even attend…?

The caffeine wouldn’t do her nerves any favors, but at least she would be alert.

The coffee shop she’d chosen was just across the street from the main entrance of the AnyderSoft campus, and when it came into view she realized that it had actually been quite a poor choice. She perhaps should have forseen that it would be full of summit attendees, and she very much had no desire to squeeze herself into the gaggle of people to wait for a single cup of coffee.

Perhaps there would be coffee and snacks provided. For free.

She glanced at the enormous AnyderSoft sign affixed to the wall beside the main entrance. Surely they had more than enough money to provide beverages and snacks at their own summit…

So with one last look at the mess of people inside the coffee shop, Annaiette turned and quickly jogged across the crosswalk just as the countdown timer was ending.

The AnyderSoft entrance was well-adorned with Machina Minds signage, but somewhat annoyingly, it took her a moment to figure out just where the signs were trying to point her. She supposed she shouldn’t be terribly surprised: confusing signage seemed to be the norm rather than the exception at these sorts of events. It didn’t help that this was her first time visiting the AnyderSoft campus and it was almost awe-inspiring in its excess compared to the little Leve office; meticulously maintained trees and planters decorated the walkways and buildings, which were very tastefully designed with generous use of natural wood and glass. It was somehow ostentatious in its efforts to evoke the simplicity of nature, but she would be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy the aesthetic.

While the signage directing her to the proper area was somewhat lacking, the actual Machina Minds area was most certainly not. The Machina Minds website had been very insistent that it was a “small” and “intimate” gathering of the artificial intelligence tech community, and perhaps it was once upon a time. Now, though, Annaiette thought it might well be a full-blown conference with the sheer production value of the entire thing, down to details such as the lanyard that came with each attendee’s badge; the quality of the metal clasp was particularly nice and she was admittedly quite pleased to have received it. That AnyderSoft deemed fit to cram an entire conference here was impressive and a testament to both the size of their Mor Dhona campus and the sort of showiness that Annaiette expected out of the big tech companies. There were even areas set aside to serve as a tech showcase (most of which wasn’t even AnyderSoft tech).

For a moment, she wondered if Solus had any part in this arrangement.

But only for a moment.

With a small laugh to herself, she brushed the idea aside; he didn’t seem the sort to organize a summit, let alone one such as this.

Thoughts of _Solus the summit organizers were immediately thrown to the wayside, however, when she caught sight of exactly what she had hoped to see ever since she stepped foot on the campus:

A table (or several) with a generous spread of fruit, pastries, and hot beverage dispensers.

Annaiette helped herself to a little bit of everything: a handful of grapes, a scoop of assorted berries, an adorably tiny chocolate croissant and its friend the equally tiny muffin. And, of course, the coffee she had hoped would be here.

She peered around.

There were many like-minded people at the snack tables. None of them, however, were whom she was looking for. She wasn’t sure just who she was looking for.

She supposed it would admittedly be amusing if Solus had been down here.

But he was not here.

Nor did she expect him to be.

She still looked, though. Even as she found a table outside to eat her fruits and pastries and drink the free coffee, she looked. Watched the people go by, attendees and obviously nonparticipating employees both. Watched despite her lack of expectations.

She was simply people-watching. Nothing more.

But perhaps he would—

Annaiette very pointedly forced herself to look at her phone to scroll down her Kwehtr timeline as she ate the tiny muffin. Of course he wouldn’t be down here. Of course he had very important things to do. And it was fine, it was all fine. She had her own business to worry about—namely, the talk she still felt woefully underprepared for—which she would resume worrying about once she finished her breakfast. For now, food and Kwehtr _{and most certainly not Solus}.

Her food and Kwehtr, however, was interrupted by a whitish blur dropping into the seat across from her.

“If it isn’t Annaiette!”

It took her brain a moment to process just who had appeared before her.

“Professor Venat!” she exclaimed, her mouth immediately spreading into a grin. “I didn’t know you were going to be here!”

“I didn’t either! At least not until last week,” Venat replied with a chuckle. “I thought I could use a trip to Mor Dhona, and this seemed as good a reason as any!”

Venat had been her advisor when she was in grad school at Akadaemia Anyder working through the computer science master’s program. She had her eccentricities—didn’t everyone, really?—but those eccentricities made the difficult study bearable and even enjoyable at times. Annaiette may have been asked to walk Argos or house sit more than she’d have liked given her workload, but Venat always made it worth her while and there was truly never a dull moment when Venat was involved. Even when being involved meant assisting with someone else’s very-unrelated-to-computers field work. Like capturing all manner of strange fish, or collecting toad oil, or purposefully attracting yarzons on riverbanks so field researchers could do their work in peace. While she had no small number of scars left by these activities, Annaiette always had great fun no matter how disastrous the adventure became.

“Are you staying for long, then?” Annaiette asked.

“No, just for the weekend. We ought to get dinner before I leave—your correspondence has been few and far between and I should like to hear how you’ve been doing.” A wry grin spread across Venat’s face. “It seems you’ve been faring well if you’ve been invited as a guest speaker.”

Annaiette waved her words away as her face warmed with embarrassment. “The first speaker had to cancel and they needed a replacement, that’s all. My talk isn’t anything particularly grand.”

“You sell yourself short,” Venat said with a small laugh. “The fact remains that you are here because they requested your presence. And if nothing else, we get free snacks for attending.”

“Very true. I am enjoying these snacks.”

There was a small beat of silence before the pair burst into hearty laughter that did much to ease the anxiety wrapped about Annaiette’s chest. She couldn’t help but grin as she pushed her plate of fruit toward Venat.

“Have some! The grapes taste like candy floss,” she said before popping a grape into her mouth.

As Annaiette expected (and deeply appreciated), Venat was clearly impressed by this fact and helped herself to a grape.

“It seems AnyderSoft has spared no expense for this little event. I’m especially glad to have come.”

“For the candy floss grapes!”

“Yes, exactly!”

They shared another laugh and a few more grapes.

“Are you going to watch the opening remarks?” asked Venat once there were no more grapes at hand. Annaiette popped a rolanberry into her mouth and shook her head.

“No, I thought I’d go look at what sorts of things people brought for the tech expo. You’re welcome to join me if you’d like!”

Venat grinned. “Now that does sound like a far better time than opening remarks. I shall gladly take you up on your offer!” She glanced at the small pamphlet provided to each attendee. “Has anything in particular caught your eye?”

“To tell you the truth, I haven’t even looked at the list.” Annaiette let out a small laugh to conceal her acute shame. “It’ll be a fun adventure to go in blind, though, don’t you think?”

“An adventure sounds delightful,” Venat agreed, and as she put the pamphlet away, her grin softened into a sort of wistful, nostalgic smile. “I’ve missed having you around, you know. It’s surprisingly difficult to find CS grad students unafraid to suffer a yarzon bite or two to help their fellow researchers out. Argos still hasn’t found one he likes half as much as you.”

“I suspect Argos just likes me because I bought him the good treats.”

“And he yearns every day for those treats,” Venat said solemnly. “I’ve had to cut back on treats per his vet’s orders. As you can imagine, he isn’t pleased with that at all.”

Annaiette could believe it; Argos had quite the personality and wouldn’t hesitate to make his displeasure known.

“Maybe I’ll visit and give him a nice pile of treats, just like before,” she said with a grin. “So, ready to go?”

Venat nodded in earnest, and they both got to their feet to make their way toward the area set aside for the tech expo.

Said tech expo area was situated in the lobby of the building just adjacent to the one hosting all the talks and round tables. The lobby didn’t appear terribly large from the outside, but with all the furniture removed it certainly felt much larger than it looked. With its high ceiling, it felt almost like a proper expo floor and was only missing the flashy and sometimes excessive booth constructions typical of big conferences.

Annaiette and Venat both were pleasantly surprised by the swath of different technologies that summit exhibitors had brought with them. Annaiette went in expecting to find mostly video presentations about whatever AI technology—of which there were a good many, to be sure—but she and Venat were delighted by the number of interactive setups that were available to play with. Venat got entirely engrossed in an augmented reality setup that used AnyderSoft’s own HoloSpec technology to allow the user to interact and play games with a variety of cute beastkin who themselves interacted with the physical environment. At another booth, the pair had loads of fun (too much, perhaps) playing against a learning AI in a sword fighting game wherein the player could swing a real (albeit padded) sword, and it was only when they started drawing a crowd that they finally pulled themselves away, much to the disappointment of the people running the booth.

“That was fun!” Annaiette said brightly as they stood to catch their breath by the restrooms, to which Venat nodded in earnest.

“I certainly didn’t expect to have a sword fight at a tech summit!” Venat said, grinning. “All tech summits ought to include them, it makes for a wonderful change of pace.”

Once they were sufficiently rested, they continued meandering across the tech expo floor. They didn’t have much unexplored floor left so it didn’t take long for them to reach the end, and they were both prepared to meander back when Annaiette caught sight of a sign directing attendees down a hallway for more booths. It appeared that several conference rooms were commandeered for more tech demos, and all of them seemed to be AR or VR setups that required more space.

That is, of course, until they came upon the last conference room. Every other conference room had thus far kept their doors open, but this one was closed and had a sign telling attendees to keep the door shut after entering.

USING MACHINE LEARNING
TO AUTOGENERATE AND
RETARGET SKELETAL HIERARCHIES
WITH MOTION CAPTURE DATA

Presented by
AnyderSoft

PLEASE CLOSE DOOR
AFTER ENTERING

“What’s this about, do you think?” Annaiette mused.

“Perhaps they’ve got a mocap setup inside?” Venat offered. It made some sort of sense to need the space if they set up an optical capture system. Why they would bother to do so at a tech summit was an entirely different question, however.

“Well, nothing for it but to go in!” Annaiette said brightly.

She watched as Venat pushed the door and started when Venat let out a sudden gasp.

“Oh my goodness!” she heard Venat exclaim with surprised delight in her voice. “What are all of you doing here?”

Venat made way to allow her to follow and Annaiette, too, let out a gasp of delight.

Rather than finding an optical mocap setup or literally any other technology that one might reasonably find at a tech summit, there was instead a small children’s wading pool full of water.

That, and a half dozen speude bradeos sharks looking up at them with beady, gleaming eyes.

“Quickly, shut the door lest they escape,” urged Venat. Annaiette didn’t need telling twice—one shark was eyeing the door and she could almost see its little brain making little shark calculations.

A tarp lay underneath the wading pool and food troughs to catch the water, but little wet footprints were evident all over the room. The air was briny and fishy, from both the little legged sharks themselves and the food left out for them in a corner of the room. A paused video—or perhaps one that finished but hadn’t looped—was displayed on the far wall by a projector and a weary Lalafell in an AnyderSoft shirt with conspicuous bite holes along the hem was discussing the technology with the only other person in the room.

The sharks were well aware that they had both Venat’s and Annaiette’s undivided attention; immediately they crowded around the pair to beg for scritches, or so Annaiette presumed. They seemed well-trained so to test this, she held out a closed fist to the one directly in front of her—it gave her knuckles a tentative nibble, but she firmly told it, “Excuse me, sirmadam,” and it quickly removed its mouth. And when it obediently stood there in wait, she grinned and eagerly scratched its sandpapery sides and head as it wiggled in delight.

Venat had similarly gained the trust of a shark, which was enough for the rest of the lot to accept that these she and Annaiette were safe and more than generous with their scritch distribution, and in almost no time at all, the both of them were sitting on the floor, laughing and scritching the little creatures as they excitedly hopped up onto their laps in their thirst for attention. Annaiette peered up to check the room’s other, non-shark inhabitants in case any disapproved of the fact that she had just scooped two sharks into her arms; only the weary AnyderSoft Lalafell remained, and he was watching her with a mix of shock and indignation on his face.

“Why are these sharks here?” Annaiette asked as the sharks in her arms wriggled excitedly and tried to nibble her face. “I’m not complaining, but what do they have to do with machine learning?”

It took a moment for the Lalafell to realize he’d been asked a question, but once he composed himself he quickly pressed something on a laptop on the table to restart the video.

“I’m glad you asked,” said the Lalafell, who was very obviously not glad at all. “The sharks you see here were part of a mocap R&D project that has been in progress for about two years now.”

Annaiette was not prepared for the video and the number of sharks included therein.

Namely: more than zero.

Neither she nor Venat could contain their small squeals of joy and delight at the footage of the little sharks in little mocap suits with little reflective mocap markers following their trainer around the capture volume.

“We used machine learning to expedite the capture and processing process for creatures with nonstandard anatomy,” the AnyderSoft rep continued. “The system makes a best guess attempt at generating a skeleton based on arbitrary range of motion routines.”

“Fascinating!” said Venat, who by now had a shark on her shoulder. It was nibbling her hair but she didn’t pay it any mind. “How reliable is it now?”

“It’s very reliable for bipedal and quadrupedal creatures,” said the rep with a small puff of pride in his chest. “We’re currently refining it to better handle arbitrary locomotion methods.”

Annaiette pat each of the sharks around her once on the head and got to her feet. “Oh? Like if you were to mocap an ochu?”

“Or a morbol?” Venat added.

“A megalocrab?”

“A cubus!”

The rep, who made the exact sort of exhausted face that someone who had indeed suffered through mocapping ochu and morbol and crabs and cubi would make, nodded. “Precisely.”

Venat glanced about the room—unremarkable save for the six sharks that had begun meandering about when Venat and Annaiette stopped paying them attention—and turned back to the Lalafell with a smile. “Pity that only the sharks are here.”

The poor Lalafell’s eyes widened, presumably as he imagined the unadulterated chaos of a morbol-and-cubus-filled room. “Yes, well, our lead is quite fond of sharks, you see.”

At this, Venat perked up. “Artemis, I presume?” she asked, her smile widening into a grin. “It must be Artemis.”

The Lalafell was momentarily surprised by the mention of the name, but he soon nodded. “It’s Artemis, yes. Thank the Twelve that the Machina Minds committee limited him to six and not the nine he initially wanted to bring. I don’t know how I could manage w—NO, CLOSE THE DOOR!”

Annaiette wheeled around and watched in horror as the attendee standing in the doorway froze like an antelope in headlights. The sharks did not hesitate to seize this opportunity—Annaiette dove in front of the door to block their escape but she wasn’t fast enough to stop all of them from scurrying out into the hallway.

“No, no, no! Stop them!” the Lalafell exclaimed as he danced in place in a panic.

Annaiette pushed the pair of sharks she’d wrestled into her arms at him and quickly rushed past the speechless attendee in the doorway, just in time to see two sharks scampering down the hallway in one direction and the other pair in the opposite direction. She heard Venat following closely behind, Annaiette didn’t have to look to know they were of one mind.

“I’ll go this way, you go the other!” Annaiette called over her shoulder as she sprinted down the hall in pursuit of the sharks.

“I’m on it!”

Her quarries were making a beeline for the expo floor—Annaiette was gaining on them but they zigzagged between confused attendees so deftly that it felt almost purposeful. If they made it out to the expo floor, there was no way she’d be able to capture them…

They made it to the T-intersection at the end of the hallway as Annaiette closed in on them. The sharks faltered at the junction and for a split second, Annaiette thought the winds were in her favor. She lunged for them, but her hands were fulms away when they darted aside out of her path—the small wave of relief that came when they dodged toward the bank of elevators immediately turned to horror when they bolted under her legs toward the expo floor and all the shiny, forbidden things just waiting for them to bite.

She glanced at her watch.

Thirty minutes until her talk.

I’ve got time, she thought.

The sharks dashed under the snack tables and out the other end—Annaiette gave chase, leaping over an unoccupied part of the table without a moment’s thought and landing cleanly on her feet as she lunged for the little escapees. They were startled by her sudden appearance but she couldn’t capture them before they darted under the table of the nearest booth. The booth runners and attendees made various noises of surprise when they popped out from under the table skirt—Annaiette nearly had the sharks cornered until they slipped out of reach under the next booth’s table skirt, which emitted the dull, soft rustling and thudding of the miscreants making a mess of what was certainly boxes of company swag—she barely had a moment to apologize before continuing the chase.

They popped out from underneath the table, a trail of branded bucket hats scattering behind them as they did so—one had a hat on its little head and Annaiette wished she wasn’t chasing it so she could properly fawn over it—and now that they had figured out the secrets of the tables, they immediately rushed under another to keep out of her reach.

Twenty-five minutes until her talk.

This time a box of lanyards and sunglasses was the victim of their mischief, and when they leapt out to escape from the woman trying to stop their fun, the behatted one emerged with three sets of sunglasses askew on its face and the other entangled in a mess of lanyards (with the bad clasps). She managed to grab the latter by one of the lanyards caught around its little leg and wrestled it into her arms as the other let out a squeak of dismay and bolted.

The lanyards gave her an idea.

“Sorry, I’m going to take some!” Annaiette said hastily to the booth rep as she grabbed a fistful of lanyards with a squirming shark in her arms.

Thank goodness for Aunt Celestianne and those knots she made me learn, she thought as she knotted a rudimentary harness and leash together out of the lanyards she appropriated from the booth, grimacing all the while as the shark gnawed her arm.

“Haha! You’re not getting away now!” Annaiette said triumphantly as she tied the harness onto the shark, who had finally let go of her arm (but not without leaving bite holes in the sleeves). “Now, let’s find that other rascal…!”

Twenty minutes until her talk.

The sounds of surprised attendees in the distance told her that the other shark hadn’t gone terribly far. With the now-harnessed shark in her arms for safekeeping, she rounded the corner to find the other shark chomping on the sword from the VR booth whilst the poor booth rep tried to shake it off. It saw her and its captured companion and immediately released the sword before turning tail and running in the opposite direction. With a groan, Annaiette tightened her grip on her shark and leapt forward to catch up with it—there were too many people around the VR booth so it panicked and zigzagged into the aisle instead.

Annaiette managed to lunge and grab it when it jumped into a box of swag in its bid to escape; she pulled it out of the pile of tiny individually-packaged rock salts as it was in the midst of simultaneously flailing and crunching madly on a mouthful of them. When it momentarily cringed at the taste of plastic and pure salt, Annaiette seized the opportunity to wrestle the little creature into the loop she’d left at the other end of the lanyard leash. The shark realized it’d been had and sank its teeth into the same arm the first shark did, just as the first shark used the distraction to chomp on her ankle—Annaiette pushed through the sharp, stabbing pains and wrangled the shark into the lanyard leash with a pained grin of triumph.

As she stood up with both sharks successfully captured, she was surrounded by a smattering of applause and cheers.

Fifteen minutes until her talk.

“That was amazing!” said a nearby attendee.

“Doesn’t that hurt?” said another.

“Who brings sharks to a tech summit?!” said a voice from somewhere behind her.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Annaiette said with a small, embarrassed laugh. “I need to get these two back to their room.”

“Annaiette! Over here!”

She looked up to find Venat waving at her from behind the gaggle of people in the aisle. Venat had similarly suffered a series of friendly shark bites on her arms and legs, and had similarly jury-rigged a method of shark containment: she had a cardboard box lashed to her back using a combination of tape and carbonweave straps from swag bags, and the two sharks she’d chased down were restlessly fidgeting in the box as they chewed on her hair.

“I love the backpack,” Annaiette laughed as she pulled her leashed sharks toward Venat. Her ankle hurt as she walked—she limped just a little bit on her shark-bitten leg.

“I love the leash,” Venat replied with a grin. “Let’s return these little troublemakers!”

Ten minutes until her talk.

The relief that came over the AnyderSoft rep when they returned with the sharks was palpable. “Thank you, thank you!” He wrung his hands anxiously. “It would’ve taken the trainer ages to get back, and I should not like to be the one to tell Artemis that the sharks get injured or lost…”

“Happy to help!” said Annaiette cheerfully as she freed her sharks from their lanyard harnesses. They wriggled impatiently and pulled themselves out once the lanyards were sufficiently loosened, immediately scampering to their friends in the wading pool and hopping in with a splash.

Five minutes until her talk.

“Thal’s ba—are you all right?! Shall I call for a medic?” the Lalafell exclaimed, and when Annaiette looked up she found him staring aghast at her arm. She peered down and found her hands sporting an assortment of bleeding cuts and punctures from the sharks’ knifelike teeth, and found her sleeve now blotchy from where blood had seeped into it.

Now that attention had been drawn to it, she felt the throbbing and stinging pain from the little shark chomps. Still, she’d had worse—this was hardly anything worth fussing over.

She glanced at her watch and felt her stomach drop.

Her talk was now.

“My talk!” Annaiette cried. She all but tossed the lanyard harnesses at the Lalafell and gave him and Venat a hasty wave as she rushed out the door. “I need to go! Professor, I’ll find you afterwards!”

The Machina Minds summit had become little more than an annual annoyance that turned the AnyderSoft campus into a circus that Solus very much endeavored to avoid. It had been years now since he last had the energy—mental, physical, or spiritual—to participate, whether as a speaker or as a simple attendee. It was preferable to remain in his office for most of the day to simply work, but more importantly to avoid all the people who would gawk at him or pester him in the manner of the Synapps man who had triggered that mind-bogglingly inane Kwehtr situation involving Annaiette. That Kwehtr situation that he had still not apologized for.

He couldn’t stop himself from glancing at his silent phone.

Solus had precious little conversation with Annaiette since the intensely awkward debacle at his home after inadvertently causing her to grate her sides against a hillside. What conversation they did have was friendly but stiff; whatever it was she had found off-putting about him or his home had clearly soured their rapport, surely due in no small part to Hythlodaeus’ untimely arrival and subsequent departure making her feel as some sort of intruder upon his life.

That Hythlodaeus would use Machina Minds to rile him up was a new low for him, dragging an innocent third party into his mischief…Solus thought him past those days, but clearly he was mistaken. Hythlodaeus was every bit as devilish as he had always been, and Solus didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of actually attending the summit.

He huffed and forced his eyes back to the email sitting half-written on his screen.

He glanced back to his silent phone.

What would Annaiette’s talk be like? He didn’t think her unqualified but he wondered what her talk would cover given what he knew about Leve and their services; routing was incidental to their actual service, and it was not a problem space he expected a small startup to revolutionize—that would be paper-worthy if there had been any appreciable improvement—and he was additionally quite sure she was smart enough to not reinvent the wheel and humble enough to not then give a talk about it.

Solus very much did not want to suffer asking Hythlodaeus for a summary of Annaiette’s talk, but neither did he want to trouble her for a summary after the fact.

He stared at the email on his screen.

It remained as half-written as it was ten minutes ago.

This email was definitely not going to happen this morning nor was he expecting to get any work done with all the distractions buzzing about in his head, so he supposed he could go down to watch. A quick break to watch Annaiette’s talk would hardly affect his work, and nobody expected full productivity during Machina Minds besides…

The talk would begin in half an hour, so he supposed now was as good a time as any to go down to the summit.

Though he hardly cared what he looked like outside work hours, he had to look presentable while at the office and especially when in the public eye at an AnyderSoft event. While wearing a hat and sunglasses at such an event would be far too noteworthy and would likely garner more attention rather than less, he still had something that could mildly obscure his appearance: a pair of large, thick-framed glasses that he kept around for such occasions as these. He preferred to wear contacts for any public appearances for AnyderSoft, and the glasses were just enough to give him those few crucial moments to slip away if need be.

With his contacts swapped for glasses and a quick once-over in the bathroom mirror to ensure his clothing wasn’t attempting a mutiny, he made his way to the building hosting the Machina Minds festivities. Despite the many things that Hythlodaeus did to purposefully irritate him, Solus harbored the tiniest little wish for Hythlodaeus’ company as he entered the main summit area. The eyes on him were immediate and obvious and Hythlodaeus’ boisterous personality was a good distraction for both Solus and the people eying him, but thankfully the glasses were doing their job—he was able to slip into the area outside the AnyderSoft theater doors relatively unseen, and he parked himself in a quiet, unoccupied hallway behind a potted palm just past the area cordoned off as Staff Only. He wasn’t technically Machina Minds staff but he was AnyderSoft staff and nobody in their right mind would dare tell him otherwise.

From the Staff Only area, Solus had a relatively unobstructed view of the refreshments tables. Attendees milled around them whilst the coffee and snacks were replenished by actual Machina Minds staff, and as he watched he couldn’t help but think back to his first encounter with Annaiette at the Leylines snack table outside the room for his own talk.

“What’s His Face,” she had called him.

Solus smirked to himself at how fitting it would be to throw a “What’s Her Face” right back at her.

That is, if she came by the refreshments table as he thought she would.

He read—or more accurately, absently looked at—emails from his phone as he intermittently glanced up to take stock of the people by the tables. More and more people were arriving, but none of them were the intrepid hero who was due to speak in less than twenty minutes. A sort of weight sank in his chest with each passing minute of staring at his emails and at the hero-less tables, and he huffed and pushed the feeling aside. Said hero was likely prepping for her talk and it was foolish to expect her to show at the snack tables now.

That, or she was purposefully avoiding places where he might turn up.

Solus frowned at the thought and immediately went back to glaring at emails on his phone in order to ignore it.

“I certainly didn’t expect to see you down here, my friend,” came a familiar voice that clearly did expect to see him there. “I was under the impression that you were too busy to come down.”

Hythlodaeus appeared at his side—from where, Solus hadn’t the slightest—with the usual mischief-filled smile and a two cups of coffee. Solus took the coffee held out to him without dignifying his friend’s words with much more than a “hmph” before taking a sip.

“I do hope you’re not intending to answer emails during Annaiette’s talk,” said Hythlodaeus with mock reproach as he leaned closer to peer at his screen. “The star will not break apart should you look away for a few bells.”

“Of course not,” Solus said with a huff as he stuffed his phone in his pocket.

He sipped his coffee and cast a quick glance toward the tables.

More people now in the ten minutes before the panel was to begin, but none of them Annaiette.

“Hmmm,” said Hythlodaeus as he scrolled on his phone. “There is apparently an ongoing incident with Mitron’s sharks.”

“His sharks?” Solus said incredulously. “Why, pray tell, are his sharks here? It was my impression that this was a tech summit, not some poor simulacrum of an aquarium.”

Hythlodaeus chuckled without looking up from his phone. “They are in fact essential in Mitron’s current project. Why not give them their moment to shine?”

“I hardly think sharks care whether they’ve been given a moment to shine!”

His friend chuckled again. “Oh, I don’t know about that, Hades. They do love the attention.” Hythlodaeus put his phone away and gave Solus a smile. “In any case, I’ve few details but it seems the situation has been sorted out thanks to helpful attendees. Although they did make mention of calling the medics in—whether the medical attention is for the attendees or the sharks was unclear.”

Solus’ brow furrowed as he let out a sigh of exasperation. He supposed it was none of his business that Mitron thought a machine learning tech summit was an appropriate venue for sharks, but if anyone was badly hurt because of it…

He glanced at his watch. Five minutes until the talk was due to start, and still no sign of Annaiette. In all likelihood, she was already inside and waiting to start; of course she wouldn’t wait until the last moment to enter the panel room.

It seemed Hythlodaeus was of similar mind, because he turned to Solus and tipped his head toward the door. “Shall we get to our seats, my friend?” And when Solus raised a questioning eyebrow, he chuckled with a hand to his mouth. “I asked my intern to save us seats in the dark corner of the theater, right on the end.”

Solus might find Hythlodaeus frustrating more often than not, but it was in these moments that he was grateful for such a thoughtful friend. “Thank you,” said Solus as he followed Hythlodaeus to the theater doors.

“Think nothing of it,” Hythlodaeus replied brightly. “In return, I only ask that you spend a few moments with my intern sometime later to thank him. He would be delighted to meet Solus Galvus himself.”

“Of course.”

The AnyderSoft theater was built with the familiar stadium seating of a movie theater, complete with folding leather seats and a decline toward the stage. It of course couldn’t seat all of AnyderSoft’s staff—not even close—but most teams could fit into the theater for meetings or presentations or even movie nights organized by different clubs. Solus hadn’t been sure what level of attendance Annaiette’s talk might pull, but there were a good many people sitting and waiting; it was an inexplicably heartening sight, and he felt something loosen in his chest as Hythlodaeus led him toward the aforementioned dark corner of the theater where the intern had saved them seats. The intern in question turned out to be a young Miqo’te man whose tail poofed up in surprise when he saw just who it was that Hythlodaeus had brought along. He hastily removed the bag and jacket he’d used to occupy the seats and might have vibrated into the ceiling had Hythlodaeus not given him a gentle cautionary word to calm down.

Solus looked down at the stage and found, to his mild surprise, that Annaiette was not present and that the two people in Machina Minds staff shirts were speaking with each other in hushed voices whilst intermittently shooting anxious glances toward the doors.

Was she, in fact, late to her own talk?

And a few minutes later, one of the anxious staff by the stage confirmed this.

“Hello everyone, thank you for coming! We apologize for the wait—it seems that Ms. Verdeleaux is running a little bit late, and we hope to get started as soon as she arrives.”

Solus glanced questioningly at Hythlodaeus, but it seemed that for once, he too hadn’t the slightest idea what had happened. He couldn’t imagine that Annaiette fled from the talk out of nerves, but he also couldn’t imagine what could be keeping her. Unless…

Further thought was interrupted when the stage-level doors burst open with a panting Annaiette waving at the Machina Minds staff.

“I’m sorry I'm late!” he heard faintly from the stage.

A confused silence came over the audience, before a wave of hushed murmurs rippled through the air as she made her way toward the staff to receive her headset mic. Solus, too, looked on in confused horror at the sight of her: she had clearly run all the way there and was breathless and sweaty and limped just slightly, but far more concerning were the tears in her sleeves and pants and the bloodstains that had spread outward from them. He could faintly hear the horrified staffers asking if she required medical attention, but she simply waved them off and fitted the headset to her head. Solus had half a mind to pull her from the stage himself to get her obviously not-insignificant injuries examined—he thought he could see dried blood on the backs of her hands—but she’d already taken her place at the computer on stage and was examining the clicker-laser-pointer device the bewildered staffers had given her.

“Hello, my apologies for being late!” Annaiette said with a smile as she brushed her disheveled hair out of her eyes. The crowd quieted down, waiting with bated breath for the explanation of her current state—

“Thank you all for coming! We’ll not waste any more time and get right to it, but first, a little bit about me: I’m Annaiette Verdeleaux, engineer at Leve going on almost six years now. I mostly have my product lead hat on these days, but I do work closely with the systems that handle navigation and routing, ” she began as the title slide of her slide deck appeared on the screen behind her. “Not network routing, but people routing. A bit more mundane, I suppose, but no less important! We’ll begin with a familiar problem…”

Without further explanation, Annaiette launched into her talk as though she wasn’t inexplicably injured right up there on stage. The rest of the audience seemed as perplexed as Solus felt—he saw attendees exchanging confused looks and whispers with their neighbors. But watching the audience was not why he was here, and so he forced the worry into the corner of his mind to pay Annaiette’s words his full attention. She had a very conversational presentation style that Solus found quite engaging despite her earlier claim that the topic was mundane, and her slide deck was built with comedic beats in mind.

He quietly cleared his throat in an attempt to quell the unexpected pounding in his chest.

Equally unexpected was the small, dark shadow he noticed out of the corner of his eye as it moved down the aisle.

Further unexpected still was the little shark that appeared on stage at Annaiette’s feet, eagerly looking up at her for attention.

“Oh! Hello again! I thought I left you back with your friends,” Annaiette said to the shark, and though she was clearly confused she leaned down to scratch its head. It bit her hand when she pulled away, but she softly but firmly scolded it, and it obediently it released her and waited patiently for further scratches.

Another wave of murmuring spread through the crowd—clearly they had just made the same realization that Solus did:

She was late and injured because she’d been herding sharks.

At this juncture, Solus didn’t think anything else could happen during this talk that would surprise him. That is, until he found an old friend down by the edge of the stage—Venat from Akadaemia Anyder was down below, looking equally as disheveled as Annaiette but less obviously bloodied, trying to inconspicuously beckon the shark away from the stage.

The shark was not having any of it, however, and latched its teeth onto the hem of Annaiette’s pant leg when Venat attempted to lift the shark away. The two struggled for a moment to unhook the shark’s mouth, but the shark was determined to stay with Annaiette and snapped angrily at Venat once they managed to detach it.

“You know what, just leave them here with me, Professor. They’ll be my little assistant,” laughed Annaiette. “So, where were we?”

Solus watched in disbelief as Annaiette continued, now with a little shark standing at her feet and staring intently up at her as she spoke. When it became clear that Annaiette was addressing the audience, the shark evidently felt that it, too, had to participate; it used its fins to mimic her hand gestures as she spoke and pointed at the screen with the laser pointer. The sound of Annaiette’s magnified voice now filled the theater with a backing of quiet, amused laughter at both her presentation and the shark’s antics—her smile slowly grew wider as the appreciative laughter continued, and Solus found the corners of his mouth pulled just slightly upward as though to match.

“Enjoying yourself, my friend?”

He twitched at the sound of Hythlodaeus’ whisper and immediately scowled at the gleeful smile that met him. Solus didn’t feel that Hythlodaeus deserved a response for his predictable but still-supremely-irritating needling, but Hythlodaeus was perfectly unbothered and turned his gaze back toward the stage.

“I know I am,” Hythlodaeus added before leaning back into his seat.

It was true, though, that Solus was in fact enjoying himself. He didn’t care for most presenters—they were often too dull or too arrogant or too academic for the present audience—but Annaiette was none of those. She was perfectly comfortable on stage, with content at the appropriate level for the attendees there and presented so casually that it felt less like a talk and more like a round table. Despite her slight limp, she still moved effortlessly around the stage to demonstrate points from her slides—with the little shark following right behind her, of course—and though the stage lights weren’t configured for a speaker who wasn’t standing at the lectern, Solus could hear the smile in her voice and the crinkle in her eyes even through the shadows that sometimes obscured them.

It was becoming increasingly difficult to focus on her words when Solus could hear his pulse pounding in his ears and felt his breath pooling in his chest.

Despite this discomfort, though, a vague sort of disappointment tweaked at the back of his mind when Annaiette returned to the lectern to wrap up the talk.

“So! Hopefully there was something of interest for you during this talk,” she said, grinning. “Even if it’s just my little assistant here. Please give them a round of applause for being so very helpful!”

The crowd readily obliged and enthusiastic applause and cheers filled the room. Annaiette made sure to clap while looking down at it with a warm smile, which was enough to help the little shark’s mind connect the dots; it quickly realized that it was the target of the applause and puffed out its chest proudly.

One of the AnyderSoft staff stood up from their seat in the front row and turned to address Annaiette and the audience both. “Thank you, Ms. Verdelaux, for a great talk, and thank you, little shark, for being such a great help,” the staffer said into a wireless mic. “We do have a little bit of time for one or two questions. If you have one, raise your hand and one of us will bring the mic to you.”

Several hands shot up amongst the audience.

The other staffer hastily stood up with his own mic. “Do keep your questions relevant to the talk itself, please,” he added.

Over half the hands slowly lowered.

Out of the corner of his eye, Solus saw Hythlodaeus’ shoulders moving in silent laughter.

There were still a handful of hands still up, though, which was perfect, as there were only a little over five minutes left. Solus was disappointed that the two questions turned out to be uninteresting, but at least they were quick; Annaiette finished answering just as the allotted talk time came to a close. As the audience began dispersing, Solus made sure to appear aloof as he followed Hythlodaeus and his intern out so as not to invite any conversation from passing attendees. He heard the hushed whispers of his name as they left, but fortunately they were able to slip out of the theater before anyone could attempt to engage him.

With the last vestiges of Annaiette’s talk on his mind, Solus unthinkingly followed Hythlodaeus around the corner past a Staff Only sign after he sent his intern away, only to have his mind rudely snapped back to reality when he found a small crowd waiting near the lower theater exit.

“What are all of you doing here?” he asked, brow knit into an accusatory scowl.

“They wished to meet Annaiette, of course,” Hythlodaeus said brightly.

Solus tried desperately to fight the inexplicable warmth that threatened to spread across his face.

There was Nabriales, with that self-assured smirk of his.

“Is wishing to meet one of our guests a crime, Emet?”

Fandaniel, gleeful as ever.

“And I do very much wish to meet her, Emet.”

Elidibus, scolding but still kind as ever.

“Now, now.”

Elidibus knew well to stop Nabriales and Fandaniel as soon as possible, lest they be allowed to gain momentum and run their mouths in all manner of unsavory directions. His mouth bore a small smile regardless. “I thought it would be nice to meet her myself.”

“Then I shall leave you all to it,” Solus said with a huff. “I’ve work to do.”

Lahabrea, with a telltale twitch in the corner of his mouth. “Don’t you want to talk with Annaiette, Emet-Selch?”

Solus’ scowl only deepened. He was not going to stand there like a fool just for their entertainment—

“Oh! Erm—hello!”

Because the woman had inexplicably impeccable timing in situations such as this, Annaiette Verdeleaux herself appeared in the doorway and she met his gaze with a confused smile on her face. Solus’ mind floundered for the proper words for this preposterous situation, but for once his tongue was too slow to move; before he could speak, she realized the crowd gathered around the door had their eyes on her and so she tentatively raised a hand in greeting.

But in doing so, her bloodstained sleeves and hand came into the light.

“By Zodiark, what happened to you?” Elidibus exclaimed in horror, and he immediately stepped forward to assess the extent of her injuries.

“It’s really nothing to be concerned about! Please don’t worry yourself over me,” Annaiette said with a nervous smile, waving her hands as though to wave Elidibus away. “The little sharks got me a couple times, that’s all! Nothing a little antiseptic won’t fix.”

Before Elidibus could fuss any further, Venat emerged from the doorway just after Annaiette. There were various noises of recognition and surprise and delight at the sight of her, but Solus could hardly gather a word to speak…

“Well, if it isn’t the old AnyderSoft team,” Venat said, grinning with a glint in her eye. “How very lucky to run into all of you at once!”

Solus watched helplessly whilst the situation spiraled even further from his control with the sudden appearance of his old friend from his academia days.

“Oh! Do you all know each other, Professor?” Annaiette asked brightly.

It began to sink in that Annaiette, too, somehow knew Venat and his horror slowly grew—

“Oh, yes, I knew them in the old days before they became famous and successful and left humble old me behind at the Akadaemia.”

“Those open source days are long past,” Hythlodaeus chimed in. “Still, some days I do miss it. Don’t you, Solus?”

Solus’ guard was immediately up.

“Not at all,” was on his tongue immediately despite the fact that after everything, there were some things he had liked about working on the open source project.

But there were many more things that he wished to never experience again.

Elidibus could no longer help himself and resumed fussing over Annaiette’s injuries in the background, and Solus found his attention split between them and whatever it was Venat and Hythlodaeus were up to.

“I miss working on open source projects some days myself,” laughed Annaiette as she subtly inched away from Elidibus, who was now on his phone attempting to summon medics.

Venat let out a chuckle. “Well, you certainly made some friends out of it, eh?”

There was something almost regretful in the smile on Annaiette’s face. “I suppose so, but we—ah—we didn’t keep in touch. I hope they’re all well.”

Hythlodaeus’ sudden and inexplicable cackle of laughter was startling; Solus immediately glowered at him, and when he quickly glanced at Annaiette and Venat he found them similarly bewildered by the outburst.

There was an expectant silence as the surrounding people waited for Hythlodaeus to explain himself, but the silence stretched longer until it was just at the threshold of awkward—

“Ah! I don’t believe I’ve had the privilege of being introduced,” said Hythlodaeus to Annaiette in lieu of providing any manner of explanation for his behavior. He held out a hand to her, which she shook with a confused but cheerful smile. “I’m Hythlodaeus. I work in R&D and have known this one—” He gestured at Solus with a sweet smile. “—since we were children.”

Solus had a word or several for Hythlodaeus, but he held his tongue lest he bewilder Annaiette even more than she already was. That didn’t stop him, however, from glaring daggers at Nabriales and Fandaniel, who were quietly snickering at his misfortune in the background.

“Hythlodaeus,” said Venat lightly as she looked from Annaiette to Solus and was clearly inferring something that was most certainly nonexistent, “might I have a word with you later on?”

“Certainly! So, Annaiette,” Hythlodaeus continued warmly before Solus could get a word in, “I must commend you for that wonderful talk. I very much enjoyed it.”

Solus heard the slight lilt in Hythlodaeus’ voice and narrowed his eyes.

What were these two scheming?

“Oh, thank you!” Interestingly, Annaiette looked almost surprised by the praise and let out a bashful laugh. “It wasn’t anything particularly exciting, but I’m glad you liked it.”

“On the contrary! You and your delightful assistant covered a topic I’ve never dabbled in and I found it quite enlightening.” Hythlodaeus nudged Solus with his elbow. “Even Solus enjoyed it, though he might not wish to admit it.”

“Why shouldn’t I admit it?” Solus snapped. The quick movement, though, made his glasses shift just enough to remind him why he preferred contacts for most occasions. He readjusted them before turning to Annaiette with a thin smile. “I did enjoy the talk, in fact, and found it quite informative. I expected as much from What’s Her Face herself.”

At that, Annaiette’s eyes widened in disbelief, her mouth slightly agape—the corner of his own mouth twitched slightly upward in response to the sight—and she soon let out a loud and unrestrained laugh of delight that he felt in his chest. Her effusive laugh was always so inexplicably infectious and he couldn’t help but laugh quietly in turn—

He shot a quick glance back toward Hythlodaeus to keep himself appraised of possible mischief.

And found, to his horror, that the colleagues that had come to gawk at him were doing exactly that.

Lahabrea, with the corner of his mouth now turned up in a thin smile. Nabriales and Fandaniel, unabashedly grinning. Hythlodaeus and Venat with glee in their eyes.

The only exception was Elidibus, who was anxiously awaiting the arrival of the medics.

Solus carefully ignored them so as not to encourage their antics and instead kept his attention on the grinning Annaiette; it wasn’t hard to do with the strange, inexplicable way her smile and laugh pulled at the threads of his mind.

“What’s Her Face is glad to hear you enjoyed it,” she said, and she thankfully didn’t appear to pay Solus’ exceptionally rude colleagues any mind.

“I noticed your talk had a distinct lack of violence,” Solus continued. “Certainly unexpected, I must say.”

Her laugh filled his chest once more.

“That’s because the violence was before the talk. You missed it!” she laughed, rapping him on the arm with her knuckles.

Despite the fact that he was still very much the subject of his coworkers’ eyes, Solus couldn’t stop himself and made a face of theatrical mock indignation as he rubbed the spot she touched for show and certainly not to rub at the feeling of levin that rippled out from the tiny, split-second contact…

“And violence now, hmm?” he said with a wry chuckle and a raised brow.

“Well, of c—oh! Oh no, I’m sorry!” Annaiette suddenly exclaimed when he lifted his hand from his arm.

Solus peered down and found a tiny splotch of blood on his white sleeve.

And before he could say a word, Annaiette’s hand was on his arm as she examined it closer—the levin shot up his arm and into his shoulder and chest and it took everything to not flinch at the touch—when she removed her hand he felt relief and ache in equal measure—

“Aghh! S-sorry!”

The tiny splotch of blood now had a bigger, smeared friend.

His sleeve, though, was the very least of his worries. “Are you still bleeding, hero?”

She glanced at her hands and forearms, covered with a gruesome assortment of cuts and scrapes that appeared mostly dried apart from the ones that had clearly reopened from the movement of her hands. Solus looked back to her face—he had avoided looking too closely earlier but he now realized that she looked much paler than normal, even accounting for the dim lighting around the theater doors. Just what manner of violence had taken place before the talk?

“The medics are on the way,” Elidibus interjected, his face overtaken with worry. “They’ll be here shortly.”

Annaiette looked almost embarrassed to be fussed over and hastily waved her hands. “I really don’t think that’s necessary, I can patch myself up at home.”

Though Solus knew well that Elidibus’ worrying could sometimes border on the excessive, he felt that it was very much warranted in this particular instance for both Annaiette’s wellbeing and AnyderSoft’s.

“Why wait until then?” Solus said lightly despite his own increasing worry. “The medics are already on their way; best make their trip count, hmm?”

“I suppose…”

When the medics finally arrived, Elidibus ushered both Annaiette and Venat into a corner to afford them some small measure of privacy whilst their injuries were examined. He made an attempt to shoo everyone else away but failed—Solus couldn’t just take his leave without at least giving the intrepid hero a proper goodbye. As Solus waited, he stood with Hythlodaeus whilst the medics did their work and whilst Lahabrea, Nabriales, and Fandaniel irritatingly hovered some distance away.

From his position, Solus could still hear what Annaiette and the medics were saying, and the longer he listened to Annaiette’s and Venat’s recounting of their veritable adventure, the more incredulous he became. Neither of them seemed particularly concerned that they sustained several puncture and tear wounds from the tiny sharks that led them on a merry chase across the expo floor. It sounded absolutely ludicrous at first blush—why were tiny sharks necessary at a tech summit?—and Solus would have written it all off as a mere fabrication if it hadn’t involved those two.

Not to mention the fact that Annaiette proceeded to give a very lively and engaging talk whilst still bleeding from shark retrieval injuries.

Solus wasn’t sure whether to be impressed by her fortitude or horrified by the extent of her wounds, and the odd clench in his chest did absolutely nothing to help him decide.

“Don’t fret, my friend, I’m sure Annaiette will be fine.”

He shot a glare at Hythlodaeus and the cheeky smile on that self-satisfied face.

“I am not fretting,” Solus huffed. He sullenly crossed his arms, briefly glancing at the bloody splotch on his sleeve and furrowing his brow before returning his gaze to Annaiette and the medics and the actually-fretting Elidibus in the corner.

Hythlodaeus didn’t answer and Solus didn’t dignify him with a look but he knew that his friend’s smile would have only gotten bigger.

The faint sounds of amused murmuring drifted through the air and he had to tamp down the urge to snap at the imbeciles behind him.

As the time ticked by, he also had to tamp down the urge to pace. The medics were cleaning and dressing their wounds but did it always take this long and with this many noises of disapproval? Were the wounds worse than they looked? From what little he saw, they weren’t bad but they weren’t insignificant…

Finally, the medics finished and handed the two sharkherders some sort of paperwork before taking their leave. With Solus’ view now unobstructed, he could clearly see the bandages on Annaiette’s hands and forearms and ankles—he felt something in his chest that he couldn’t put words to and before he could begin to speak he was walking forward toward her—

“Are you all right, Annaiette?” came out of his mouth once he reached them.

Her eyes crinkled and she held up her hands. “Not exactly hale and whole but close enough!” she said brightly. “But they strongly recommend we go to the hospital to get them properly cleaned out. And a furia shot just in case. Or four, apparently.”

That they now needed furia shots was not comforting in the least.

Nor was Venat’s laugh.

“We’re fine, Solus. The risk of Dalamud’s Madness is quite low these days, no need to worry about us,” Venat said, patting Annaiette’s shoulder and grinning. “Do try to relax or you’ll give yourself more wrinkles.”

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“Furia shots, Venat. Furia is no trifling matter!”

“It’s standard protocol for Bloodborn bites,” Annaiette said with a small chuckle. “Or so they say. They don’t actually think those little sharks have it.” An apologetic expression came over her. “I’m sorry we couldn’t talk longer.”

Solus let out a silent laugh that was little more than a small snort.

“Run along then, hero,” he said wryly, “before any of those battle wounds get infected. Or the furia takes you.”

Annaiette’s eyes crinkled again with her cheeky laugh and she gave him a roguish smile as she limped past.

“I didn’t take you for a follower of Halone.”

In the wake of her glowing smile, his own smile and unbidden words followed:

“Why else would the violence be so enticing?”

Chapter Text

LunarHaken: @azem how was the summit?

the best leveilleur: yeah, @azem, how was it? 😏 did your talk knock what’s his face’s face off?

azem: It went fine! I had a lot of fun!
azem: Left early, though
azem: I’m at the hospital
azem: Needed some stitches
azem: And a furia shot
azem: I’m all right, though!

LunarHaken: …what

the best leveilleur: WHAT

easy lysey lemon squeezy: what

Alphinaud Leveilleur: What?

this is thancred: had that much fun with what’s his face, eh?

azem: :)

Several people are typing…

Despite Annaiette’s insistence that she was, in fact, perfectly fine making her own way home from the hospital—she’d made it there on her own, after all—Moenbryda all but demanded to know which hospital she was at in order to pick her up.

Which is how she found herself in Thancred’s car with Alisaie and Urianger and somewhat confusingly without Thancred.

“I can’t believe you were going to get on the tram in that state,” Alisaie huffed reproachfully once they were on their way to Annaiette’s apartment. Annaiette couldn’t help but let out a quiet laugh at the frown on Alisaie’s face—one of annoyance and concern in equal measure.

“Honestly, I’m fine,” Annaiette insisted, stifling the urge to laugh at the way her brow furrowed even more.

“Of course you are,” Moenbryda laughed from the driver’s seat. “The way you limped out the hospital doors was certainly the epitome of ‘fine’.”

Urianger chimed in before Annaiette could protest further. “Perhaps a different perspective: though thine injuries may be a trifling matter to thee, pray consider the state of thy clothing.” He let out a small chuckle and glanced at her from the front passenger seat. “‘Tis no small measure of blood which stainest thy garments. Alarming, surely, for unwitting passersby on the tram.”

She had to admit that he did have a point. While her wounds were cleaned and bandaged—and stitched, in some cases—her clothing was torn and bloodstained, and she would indeed be an alarming sight to see on public transit. “I suppose,” Annaiette reluctantly agreed.

“You haven’t had dinner yet, I expect. Up for having takeout at your place?” Moenbryda asked. “I won’t be able to sleep tonight if I don’t hear what in Thaliak’s left arse cheek happened at that tech summit.”

Annaiette let out a laugh. “Sure, whatever you want. I’ll buy.”

“Urianger, let’s order from that Doman place down the street from Annaiette’s apartment. Alisaie, Annaiette, what do you want? Standard Eorzeanized Doman food.”

“Oh, that place. Fried rice with rail, please. And hot and sour soup.”

“Noted,” said Urianger. “Alisaie?”

“Walnut shrimp.”

Whilst Urianger called the restaurant to make their order, Annaiette took the opportunity to settle back into the seat with a small grimace. After the several bells spent in the hospital getting her assortment of wounds thoroughly (and painfully) cleaned, whatever adrenaline that had masked the pain had long since worn off; her arms and legs hurt with a mixture of mild throbbing pain and a dull soreness she felt with every movement. Not to mention the developing discomfort in her upper arm, where she received the first of the series of mandated furia vaccines. Admittedly, she was now thankful that Moenbryda refused to take ‘no’ for an answer—taking public transit in this state would have probably been a miserable time.

“So!” Alisaie piped up once Urianger hung up the phone. She shot Annaiette a cheeky grin. “Did What’s His Face enjoy your talk?”

Fortunately, the dim light of the evening hid the inexplicable warmth Annaiette now felt in her ear tips.

“He did! Or at least, that’s what he said,” said Annaiette with a nervy laugh that she almost couldn’t stop.

“What, you don’t think he did?” Alisaie asked, raising an eyebrow questioningly. The nervy laugh nearly returned and Annaiette did her best to stifle it.

“He was probably just being polite! He only said it after his pretty friend prodded him about it.” She couldn’t stifle the next laugh that came. “The ah—the one that turned up at his home while I was there.”

“That pretty friend. They work together?” Alisaie asked.

“They do!” Annaiette was speaking increasingly louder now, as though trying to convince her friends—or maybe perhaps herself—that she was perfectly unbothered. “He’s in R&D apparently and came to watch the talk with Solus. Or maybe dragged Solus to it, I don’t know!”

She was laughing again and desperately wished she could stop.

“I can’t imagine either of them actually found the talk particularly interesting,” Annaiette continued unprompted as she averted her gaze out the window.

“Tell us more about how the very important and busy people who took time out of their day to see your talk didn’t actually like it,” came Moenbryda’s teasing voice from the driver’s seat.

Annaiette bristled for just a moment before the indignation dissolved into light chuckles. “Absolutely hated it,” she laughed. “They don’t like sharks, you see. My mistake.”

“Ah, sharks. ‘Tis common to err as such,” Urianger said, and though she couldn’t see his face, she could hear the cheeky smile on it. “Mayhaps another creature wouldst garner wider appeal. Certainly something to consider for thy future presentations.”

“I truly think sharks are the way to go, Urianger,” Annaiette replied, grinning. “If What’s His Face and his pretty friend don’t like it, that’s their loss.”

“How did you even get caught up in all that shark business, Annaiette?” Alisaie asked. “I was under the impression that it was a tech summit, not an aquarium. What was it, some startup’s gimmick that got out of hand?”

“Not a startup, no!” Annaiette laughed. “So—”

“Wait wait wait,” Moenbryda interrupted. “Don’t tell it yet, I want to give you my full attention. We’re almost there!”

Indeed they were. It took them only a few minutes more before they reached the Doman restaurant, and another few minutes after that before they were parked outside her apartment building.

And soon they were clustered around her coffee table in the living room—while she had a small dining table, her friends (and even Annaiette herself, admittedly) tended to prefer the couch and coffee table for comfort—and without prompting she poured each of them a small helping of whiskey whilst Urianger sorted out the takeout containers and utensils.

“Before you tell us just what in Thal’s bloody balls happened,” said Moenbryda, holding up her shot glass, “let’s drink to Annaiette and the shark wounds that I am finally ready to hear about!”

Laughter filled the room as they clinked their glasses together. Annaiette downed her whole glass at once and slammed it to the coffee table as she breathed the whiskey aftertaste out. Moenbryda matched her, finishing off her own whiskey and slamming down her glass as she looked on with anticipation.

“So after I got to the summit, I ran into my old professor…”

In between mouthfuls of fried rice, Annaiette recounted the events of her very long day. In her mind, nothing terribly outlandish had happened—she only had (relatively) minor injuries and a precautionary furia shot, after all—but the longer she talked, the more wide-eyed and incredulous her friends became.

“So you just gave your talk like that?!” Moenbryda asked in horrified disbelief. “Annaiette, what in the actual seven hells?”

“Methinks ‘twas not so much disinterest on Solus Galvus’ part and instead shock at the extent of thy wounds,” Urianger said, brows raised.

“Exactly! The man was probably worried about your open shark wounds,” Alisaie added reproachfully, with heavy emphasis on open shark wounds.

“The bleeding wasn’t even that bad, it was fine,” Annaiette insisted in a huff, though she could feel her ear tips warming.

“Clearly,” Alisaie retorted, glancing pointedly at the bandages wrapped around her forearms.

By now, Annaiette had finished her rice and soup and was feeling the additional helping of whiskey she’d poured herself (and the throbbing soreness of her injuries, and the vague malaise from the furia shot that the chirurgeons said would come), and so she curled up on the couch with the throw blanket she kept out for occasions like chilly evenings and targeted needling from friends. “It’s fine,” she repeated with her eyes shut and her voice muffled by the blanket.

She heard the small snort of laughter from Moenbryda and the shuffling of takeout containers and plastic bags.

“You need rest, Warrior of Sharks,” chuckled Moenbryda. “Will you be all right by yourself?”

“Mmhmm,” she replied without opening her eyes.

“Text us if you need anything,” came Alisaie’s (vaguely threatening) voice, and when Annaiette felt hands adjusting her blanket, she opened her eyes to find Alisaie standing over her and making sure she was well covered. And behind her, Moenbryda and Urianger were gathering up the empty takeout containers and wiping the table down.

“I will. Thank you, everyone.”

Moenbryda laughed again. “We ought to thank you for that thriller of a tale, honestly. Anyroad, try not to fall asleep on the couch, eh?”

“I won’t, I won’t.”

She drifted right at the boundary of sleep, where little dream sharks nibbled on her arms and legs, goaded on by indistinct fairy-pixie-like creatures that she sometimes confusingly dreamed about when she was ill or otherwise exhausted. Sleepily she shooed the sharks and their accompanying pixies away, but not before their dreamland antics surfaced memories of the day—of the food she and Venat gathered from the refreshments tables, of the shark herding immediately before her talk, of the high-powered audience that had inexplicably been waiting to meet her after her humble little presentation—

—of Solus, smiling and calling her “What’s Her Face”—

Annaiette groaned and buried her warming face deeper into the blanket.

It was far too early into the weekend for Solus to be glowering so deeply.

And yet.

He was rudely awoken by the unannounced arrival of his so-called friend, who then proceeded to start cooking breakfast in his kitchen. So here he was.

Glowering.

“—and the person who is in charge of the Firestarter has been digging in his heels, naturally,” Hythlodaeus chattered as he cheerfully worked an omelette on the stove. Some manner of Firestarter drama was evidently unfolding on Kwehtr this morning, which meant that Hythlodaeus was very happy and very insistent on giving him a summary that Solus very much did not ask for.

Solus would simply go back to bed if he thought he could get away with it. He didn’t think he could get away with it, though, or at least not for long; Hythlodaeus was just as likely to sweetly drag him back out as he was to follow him into his bedroom and eat the omelette on the bed beside him. He supposed the latter scenario at least afforded him more time in bed, but he refused to suffer the smell of omelette and whatever else lingering in his bedroom for the rest of the day. So here he was.

Still glowering.

“—and it’s always mind-boggling the lengths these sorts will go to wholeheartedly show their entire arse. Still, it makes for wonderful entertainment.”

An omelette appeared on the counter before Solus, a ridiculously fluffy one that was at least three ilms tall with mushrooms, spinach, some sort of cubed meat—it admittedly looked quite good.

It also had a happy face with long pointy ears shakily drawn with tomato sauce—crude Elezen ears, he irately presumed—and the thanks that had been on Solus’ lips were quickly silenced in favor of further glowering.

Hythlodaeus was perfectly unperturbed by his lack of outward gratitude, though; he merely chuckled to himself and started another omelette, and despite having his back to him, Solus knew there was a mischievous and self-satisfied grin on his face.

Solus pushed the plate to the side as he waited for Hythlodaeus to finish making another omelette, and though he inexplicably couldn’t bring himself to smear the omelette art away, he pointedly refused to look at it in favor of instead scrolling through the Kwehtr thread Hythlodaeus had sent him which summarized the ridiculous Firestarter drama. The product itself was an exercise in smashing technology into products where it needn’t be smashed; who in their right mind required a coldbox with a bleeding-edge 7 ilm LED display, wireless capabilities, and a subscription fee to use all the features of their app? And Solus knew the app was going to be poorly designed and supremely unnecessary.

“Absolutely none of their proposed tech aids in actually keeping your food cold,” Solus said with disgust.

“None of it! It’s absolutely amazing!” Hythlodaeus cackled from the stove. “My favorite was when the CEO suggested that people who didn’t require knowledge of the exact inner temperature of their coldbox were enjoying food and drink incorrectly.”

Solus’ personal favorite was when a user made a thread about everything wrong with the coldbox, and the CEO—obviously unable to muster any suitable rebuttal—almost immediately resorted to ad hominem attacks against the user, implying that they were posting nonsense (they weren’t) and that the user had nothing going on in their life and this resorted to wasting their life on the internet (as though the CEO was not also spending his time arguing on the internet).

He had a passing moment of gratitude for the fact that the AnyderSoft executives all had zero desire to participate in social media—and even if they did, they surely would have far more tact than this fellow.

Hythlodaeus sat beside him with his own omelette fresh from the stove—this one adorned with a tomato sauce wespe with a happy face. Solus allowed the corner of his mouth to twitch upward with a hint of a smile, which Hythlodaeus returned with a small chuckle and a twinkle in his eye. And with this tacit exchange, they picked up their forks to eat.

Solus keenly felt Hythlodaeus’ eyes on him as he smeared the tomato sauce Elezen around the omelette.

“To what end have you come to make breakfast, Hythlodaeus?” Solus asked, giving Hythlodaeus a sidelong glance as he took a bite of omelette. He almost hated how good it tasted; the chances of enjoying the meal in peace were infinitesimal as there was almost certainly some manner of mischief attached to it…

“To have an omelette with my very dear friend, of course,” Hythlodaeus said brightly as he smeared the tomato sauce wespe around his own omelette.

“Ah, is that all?” Solus asked flatly. “I’m sure your visit has absolutely nothing to do with whatever it was you were scheming with Venat last night.”

Venat was an old mentor and friend to the AnyderSoft executives and had the inexplicable power to cajole said executives into going out for dinner together whenever she happened to be around. Despite her shark-related injuries, she turned up midway through dinner in high spirits and sat with Hythlodaeus at the end of table, where the pair spoke in excited but somewhat hushed tones. The noise of the restaurant had prevented Solus from hearing anything of import, but he could see the quick glances that Venat shot his way—he knew that he was the subject of their conversation and he dearly hoped that this morning’s unannounced visit would be the only thing that had come of it.

“We were not scheming, my friend. Merely conversing about this and that,” Hythlodaeus laughed.

“This and that,” Solus repeated without looking at him. He let out a small huff. “What are you really here for?”

Hythlodaeus’ predictable laugh sent a wave of irritation through him.

“I’m hurt that you think I want something from you,” said his friend with a lilting laugh that told Solus all he needed to know. “But! Catching up with Venat did bring back many fond memories of our old projects.”

By now, Solus was quite sure he knew what Hythlodaeus was poking and prodding at and he had no desire to dredge up those old memories. “I don’t want to hear it,” he said curtly before taking a bite of omelette.

“My, my, I haven’t even said anything yet,” Hythlodaeus said, leaning into his arm and giving him a few playful nudges before resting his chin on his shoulder. “Might you still be fretting over Annaiette’s injuries yesterday?”

“What? Of course not,” Solus snapped, bristling and turning his head away from Hythlodaeus’. Fretting was not quite the right word—he’d been churning with irritation all night over the fact that her injuries were inflicted at a tech summit of all places, and that not one staffer had deemed fit to stop her from presenting in order to tend to her injuries. “Was it Mitron? Did he insist on sharks?”

He felt the breath from Hythlodaeus’ laugh on his neck. “Who else? In his defense, I don’t think he—or anyone else—expected the likes of Venat or Annaiette to take it upon themselves to recapture escaped sharks.”

With one last nudge and a small chuckle, Hythlodaeus removed himself from Solus’ shoulder.

“How is she doing this morning?” Hythlodaeus asked lightly.

Solus turned back to glare at him. “And why, pray tell, do you believe I have this knowledge?” he snapped more quickly than intended.

He bristled further at the sight of Hythlodaeus’ widening grin.

“Come now, my friend,” said Hythlodaeus with playful reproach. He rested his chin on his palm and lazily took a bite of omelette. “How long will you continue doing this dance? Aren’t you—as you so often tell me—tired?”

“Yes. Of your incessant pestering,” he retorted sullenly. He intended to simply leave it at that, but it wasn't long before further words found their way out of his mouth, “Why is it so important to you that I stay in contact with Annaiette? If you fancy her, then take that up with her and leave me out of it.”

The loud burst of full-chested laughter did nothing for Solus’ increasingly sour mood.

“Hades, you are incorrigible,” Hythlodaeus finally said when his laughter died down. He soon fell silent and a moment later, he let out a small sigh. “Must you be like this? It is abundantly clear that she enjoys your company, and you hers. Why not take a chance and see where it goes?”

Emotions that Solus normally kept deeply buried—the dread, the uncertainty—threatened to burst from their confines, clawing their way through his mind until they all but permeated the very space between his buzzing thoughts.

“What is there to like about me? She can do better,” Solus huffed. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Hythlodaeus and instead directed his glare out the window.

He refused to put the pieces of himself back together again when everything inevitably went to shite once again—

He refused to be made a fool—

“Are we really doing this right now, Hades?” A small sigh and a smaller laugh. “Do you need me to extol the virtues of Solus Galvus, brilliant co-founder of AnyderSoft itself? Solus Galvus, with a heart of gold that he very thoroughly hides under the façade of a prickly, sharp-tongued curmudgeon?”

He refused to get hurt again because hurt was all but guaranteed.

“Hades.”

Hythlodaeus seldom showed his frustration, and here Solus could hear it clearly in each syllable of his true name. So rare was the sound of it that it beckoned, and when Solus allowed it to draw his gaze, he met eyes that bored into his with uncharacteristic intensity.

“I’m not going to let you do this again. You made your excuses twenty ye—”

Solus scowled.

“‘Excuses?’” He sneered. “He was the one who disappeared without a word!”

A hint of exasperation flashed across Hythlodaeus’ face.

“Because you did the selfsame thing you’re doing now: making all manner of excuses to avoid facing your own feelings! And I, for one, refuse to suffer it a second time.”

And before Solus could react, Hythlodaeus had reached past him and snatched his phone. He couldn’t snatch it back when Hythlodaeus turned to block him—Solus tried to reach around his shoulders to snatch it back but he was too agile, too practiced in using a phone whilst multitasking—Hythlodaeus was typing now and Solus cursed his laziness in securing his technology from his meddling friend—

“Hythlodaeus, stop!”

And stop he did.

The relief Solus felt lasted only moments; Hythlodaeus put the phone down with a smile and Solus felt a creeping horror at what he had done—

Solus: Good morning

He shot Hythlodaeus a glare, but the infuriating man merely grinned and pushed the phone toward him.

The typing indicator had appeared on the screen.

Annaiette: [gif of that dog waking up, except it’s carbuncles]

Annaiette: Morning 😆

“Go on, my friend, don’t leave her hanging.”

Solus shot him another glare before picking up his phone.

Solus: How is our intrepid hero this morning?

Annaiette: Turns out furia shots don’t feel great 😂
Annaiette: But it’ll take more than a few sharks and their many knife teeth and the subsequent furia shot to defeat me

Solus: Are you in much pain? It was my understanding that furia shots were quite painful

Annaiette: It’s not so bad!
Annaiette: The old way to not die of furia was to get 20 shots right in the tum over a couple weeks
Annaiette: Nowadays you just get 4 in the arm, and also right around any bites
Annaiette: Since the sharks weren’t actively furia’d, fortunately I didn’t receive 10 further shots on my arms and legs
Annaiette: I must warn you that side effects include muscle aches and malaise. In case you were planning on getting the furia vaccine for fun

Solus: Well, now that you’ve warned me away from it, I suppose shall have to find something else to do with my weekend
Solus: I hope you’re pleased with yourself, Ruiner of Weekend Plans

Annaiette: Don’t let me stop you if you had your heart set on it
Annaiette: Sometimes you just need some muscle aches and malaise to feel alive

Solus: Do you feel alive, hero?

Annaiette: Very

“I don’t mean to stop you, but I want to point out that your omelette will get cold if you don’t eat it.”

Solus glanced up from his phone and found Hythlodaeus smiling sweetly at him, his omelette eaten whilst Solus’ omelette remained. And to emphasize his point, Hythlodaeus pushed Solus’ half-eaten omelette just a little bit toward him. Solus scowled and put his phone down in favor of a fork; reflex had him almost ready to dig in his heels and push the omelette away, but Hythlodaeus’ reminder also reminded him that despite everything, he was actually somewhat hungry.

“Carry on,” Hythlodaeus said, his smile widening ever so slightly in his glee before he looked back down to his own phone to continue scrolling through Kwehtr.

With an irritated glare at both Hythlodaeus and the omelette, Solus resumed eating and left the phone untouched. It seemed that Annaiette indeed felt alive enough to send him a handful of messages more; Solus saw the notifications appear on the lock screen but out of an uncontrollable, reflexive urge to fight Hythlodaeus’ teasing, he left the notifications unanswered. This was of course not lost on Hythlodaeus—the telltale flick of his eyes toward the untouched phone told all—but it seemed he was satisfied for the moment.

By midmorning, the both of them had had enough of sitting there in the kitchen—Hythlodaeus on his phone, and Solus stubbornly not—and so Hythlodaeus moved on to playing console games in the living room whilst Solus cleaned up the aftermath of the cooking. It was a familiar routine for lazy weekends that started in their college years: Hythlodaeus didn’t particularly like to cook but was sometimes possessed by the intense desire to cook breakfast, and since Solus similarly didn’t like to cook, he didn’t mind cleaning up in exchange.

His phone had fallen silent at some point, and as Solus cleaned and dried the used pan, caught himself wondering what manner of mischief Annaiette might have moved on to, or if she even had the energy to get into mischief with her apparent muscle aches and malaise. The thought of offering her food crossed his mind, but the thought bewildered him so he put it aside to deal with later; instead, he focused on cleaning the kitchen and brewing a fresh pot of coffee.

Once his kitchen tasks were exhausted, Solus joined Hythlodaeus on the sofa with a hot mug of coffee for each of them. His friend was busy playing Nymeia’s Wheel 2, a shooter game set in some far-off future apocalypse which included space magicks and also firearms. Solus used to question Hythlodaeus’ urges to play games here and not at his own home where his television and sound system setup was superior, but by now he had to admit that he somewhat enjoyed the company. Solus was no stranger to video games himself; when he found the energy and desire—an increasingly rare event these days with how much he worked—he sometimes joined Hythlodaeus in whatever he fancied playing, which was NW2 as of late.

He watched Hythlodaeus play in the PVP mode, fully intending to read on his tablet in a moment. But between watching Hythlodaeus frustrate the opposing team with his antics and trying not to watch his phone, that moment never came and Solus found himself unable to do much more than drink coffee.

“Do you want to play, my friend?” Hythlodaeus asked after his third match, easing himself back against the sofa and holding the controller out to him. Solus made no move to take it.

“No, you play.”

Hythlodaeus silently laughed and nudged him with his elbow. “Why are you just sitting there?”

“I’ll sit here if I please, it’s my house,” Solus retorted.

“If you say so.”

His eyes darted toward Solus’ phone when a notification buzzed and silently smiled before returning his attention to his next PVP match.

The urge to fight Hythlodaeus’ hinting was strong.

Solus couldn’t fight for long.

The Leve office seemed oddly lively for the start of the week. As Annaiette approached the building, she could see some sort of commotion going on through the kitchen window. She raised an eyebrow curiously and immediately made for the kitchen when she entered.

“There she is!”

Annaiette suddenly found herself congratulated and thanked by her coworkers as soon as she stepped foot in the kitchen. “What’s this about? I haven’t done anything,” she laughed, stumbling slightly when Moenbryda gave her a hefty slap on the shoulder.

The gaggle of coworkers parted ways as best they could in the cramped kitchen to reveal a gift basket sitting on the table half-unwrapped, with a simple little card on a ribbon sitting beside it.

“A courier turned up with it about a bell ago. It’s addressed to you,” Moenbryda said with barely-contained glee.

“And us too! By association, of course,” Hoary Boulder chimed in. “We might have read it. As it happens.”

With her confusion growing by the second, Annaiette picked the card up. It indeed was addressed to her and Leve by association, and the contents of the handwritten card only added to her confusion the longer she read it.

To Ms. Verdeleaux and Leve:

Please allow me to personally apologize for the shark incident during Machina Minds. There were far too many failures of policy which ultimately resulted in your harm, and for that I am deeply sorry. While my words cannot make up for what happened, I hope you take some solace in the promise that the Machina Minds safety policies will be reviewed and updated accordingly. I sincerely hope that after all this, Machina Minds might remain an event you will be excited to attend in the future.

Should you wish to speak with me regarding anything at all, feel free to call or email me and I will be more than happy to make time for you.

Please accept this basket as a token of my deepest apologies. I believe I accounted as best I could for different dietary restrictions.

- Themis

When she finished reading the card, she stood motionless and stared, brow deeply furrowed, at the neat handwriting of this Themis, whom she knew to be the COO of AnyderSoft. She didn’t actually know what he looked like and wondered if he had been present for the talk, or if perhaps he was one of the people that Solus had been with when she left the theater. Regardless, it was certainly kind of him to send the card (complete with his phone number and email) and gift basket.

And what an extravagant gift basket it was! There were several kinds of fancy cheeses, with jams and crackers and cured meats to accompany them. And among those fancy cheeses and jams, there appeared to be several alternatives for those who abstained from beastkin products and those with common nut allergies. And perhaps most impressively, the basket included a nice bottle of mead and a very expensive whiskey.

“Do you suppose he sent this so you wouldn’t sue the balls off them?” Moenbryda laughed.

“A shark attack lawsuit would hardly be a drop in the bucket for the likes of them,” Y’shtola said with a thin smile. “Tell him to send money next time.”

“But look at these cheeses!” Annaiette exclaimed with a grin as she unpacked the basket. And when she had everything laid out across the table, she stepped aside and gestured toward the spread. “Have at it, you’ve all waited long enough!”

Her coworkers didn’t need telling twice, and soon the sounds of happy cheese-eating and whiskey-drinking filled the office. At Moenbryda’s urging (and with the encouragement of that luxurious whiskey), Annaiette found herself recounting her shark escapades at Machina Minds to a rapt but raucous audience.

“You needed furia shots?!” Arenvald said, jaw agape at the conclusion of her story. “Seven hells, Annaiette!”

“It’s fine,” she replied, waving his words off with her bandage-covered hands.

“‘It’s fine,’ she says with hands that look like that,” Moenbryda said wryly. “Are you certain you can still type?”

She stuffed a cracker laden with cheese and salume into her mouth, grinning and shrugging in reply.

Tataru eventually reminded them they ought to save the drinking and snacking for later in the day after work was done, and so the Leve employees sheepishly dispersed to start the work day. Annaiette finally made it to her desk and was ready to do work, but she quickly found that Moenbryda’s concerns about her typing ability weren’t entirely unfounded: her hands and wrists were achy from the shark bites, and typing was uncomfortable enough that she ended up looking for things to do that didn’t require too much of it. But emails had to be answered, achy hands be damned, and so she spent her morning typing with a mild grimace on her face.

Aches aside, she found the whole situation so comical that she took a small break to laugh about it in text form to Solus. They hadn’t messaged each other much following the embarrassing thorn incident at his penthouse home, and while it didn’t exactly bother or concern her (he was a busy man, after all), she nonetheless found herself happy that they resumed the light, humorous banter after their brief encounter at the summit. To say she had been beating herself up over the thorn incident was perhaps putting it lightly; Annaiette could not help but think that she overstepped all the bounds she could think of (and even stepped on something of his!), despite Moenbryda and Alisaie insisting that nothing bad had happened.

Why did she think asking him to pick thorns out of her skin was a normal thing to ask?!

That was most certainly not a normal thing to ask of acquaintances, and she thought for sure he had soured on talking with her after everything she’d done. And seeing that he had come to watch her talk had been so heartening, only for her to immediately commit yet another Annaiette Faux Pas and get blood on his shirt. It was probably very expensive, too...

The fact that he hadn’t immediately cut contact was a miracle from the Twelve.

In the course of talking with him via text throughout the week, she discovered that he was unaware that a gift basket had been sent to the Leve office for her, but ultimately seemed unsurprised that Themis saw fit to send one. It was “a very Themis thing to do,” evidently. He even shared the fact that he and Themis were longtime friends and worked tirelessly together to start AnyderSoft, where Themis was the reasonable one trying to ensure that he and the now-CTO didn’t drop dead from exhaustion. Annaiette couldn’t help but smile when she read his messages, and more than once she caught herself glancing at her silent phone in anticipation for more—so much so that she sometimes put her phone away in her bag to get it out of her sight.

It was probably for the better that she put the phone away every so often; earlier in the week, the shark bites had made it difficult to type on her phone. While the aches were getting better with judicious care (the bandages adorned with cute creatures definitely helped), the bites weren’t exactly superficial wounds. As the end of the week approached, though, she could at least type without physical discomfort, which turned out to be all the better because the latter half of the week was spent replying to emails and trudging through code reviews.

Mental discomfort was perhaps another story. The code review she was commenting on had some mixed opinions among the reviewers and reviewee regarding their implementation and whether it was worth breaking the bones that must needs be broken. Annaiette was of the opinion that the matter had been settled in the very long email threads and ad hoc meetings, and she had little desire to debate it further on the code review itself.

What she did desire was to leave and get something to eat; she was the last one left in the office, it was getting dark, and she hadn’t had anything to eat since lunch. She mulled over her options as she swept through the office to turn off lights and arm the security system, and eventually she concluded that it felt like a dumplings sort of day. She was, however, too lazy to go to the restaurant herself this evening and wished for nothing more than to laze about on the couch with dumplings in her mouth. Which is exactly why food delivery services had been invented, honestly.

As was always the case when she ordered delivery while hungry, she ordered perhaps too much food (she had to make the delivery fee worth it, after all). Three people’s worth of dumplings seemed reasonable to order when she was sitting on the tram consumed by hunger, but when the friendly Arkasodara from the Hippo Riders delivery service turned up with an armful of takeout containers, she immediately saw just how badly she’d erred. The sting of it all was somewhat eased by the fact that the delivery man actually had a hippo cart this evening and let her feed the hippo a carrot. She rarely saw hippos in this part of town, so she made sure to lavish the hippo with scritches and pats before the rider continued on to his next delivery.

The Riders in Mor Dhona made use of a wider assortment of beasts like amaros and chocobos—well suited to quickly traversing the city—and had a tiny hippo crew compared to the original Riders in Thavnair. The riders always kept a stash of healthy treats for customers to give the animals, which is why Annaiette loved ordering delivery from them. And honestly, because of the layout of the city and the car-unfriendly roads in its many corners, the Riders were often just as quick to deliver their goods as a person in a vehicle (especially if one opted for amaro or flying chocobo delivery).

With all the food laid out on her countertop, Annaiette put her hands on her hips and let out a snort of laughter.

Her phone buzzed to announce an incoming message just as she began piling dumplings and sauce onto a plate. She chanced a casual glance at it—she expected it was Moenbryda or Alisaie—but blinked and froze when she saw the notification.

What’s His Face: Would you like to get something for dinner?

Annaiette looked from her phone to the dumpling situation on her counter. She could not in good conscience leave these dumplings after her massive delivery order.

Annaiette: I just got food delivered 😭

Solus: Ah. Have at it then, hero

Perhaps five minutes later—after she stuffed a couple dumplings into her face with her pulse confusingly pounding in her ears—a voice in the back of her head told her that she had dumplings for brains.

But the same voice also wondered if perhaps Solus might also like to have some dumplings?

Annaiette: I got dumplings from that Doman place I took you to

Annaiette: If you’d like to come over and have some

Annaiette: There are a lot

Annaiette: Because I was hungry when I ordered them

She put her phone down and pointedly turned her attention back to her plate of dumplings. Her chest was clenching and she didn’t understand why—there was no way Solus Galvus was going to come to her dinky little apartment—

Her phone buzzed again after she stuffed another dumpling into her mouth.

Her face burned red when she glanced down at the phone.

She let out a muffled, “Oh.”

What’s His Face: Dumplings sound worth the trip. Your address?

It took her a moment to remember that she had a dumpling in her mouth—her face was burning and she wasn’t entirely sure what her lungs were doing but she eventually managed to reply with her address before putting her phone down and silently considering just what in Thal’s balls was happening. She stood numbly for a moment or a minute, she couldn’t tell, but slowly the realization that a guest would be coming to her apartment sank in—once it did, she suddenly straightened up with her eyes wide, as if seeing her apartment and more importantly the mess for the first time. With her heart pounding in her chest, she hastily made her way around the living room to straighten up the disaster she’d allowed to persist whilst she recovered from the furia vaccine side effects.

And somehow despite the mess requiring two trips to the dumpster, she finished before Solus Galvus—Solus Galvus— arrived.

If he was even coming.

Surely it was just another joke.

She ought to text him now to laugh about it.

Because it was sarcasm, obviously.

Obviously.

The knock on her door sent her heart into her throat.

Annaiette opened the door expecting anyone from an errant delivery person to Moenbryda for some reason, but instead found one (1) Solus Galvus standing at her doorstep with pursed lips and a paper shopping bag in hand.

“Ah! Hello!” Annaiette exclaimed, quickly stepping aside to allow him inside and shutting it behind him. She tried not to think about how annoyed he appeared. Was that annoyance? Maybe he thought poorly of her place? Was he already uncomfortable? “What’s His Face couldn’t resist the allure of dumplings, it seems.”

“Sometimes one just needs dumplings in one’s stomach, after all,” Solus replied as he removed his shoes.

They stood silently in the entryway for what felt like an eternity.

“So! Dumplings!” Annaiette blurted out when she could feel the nervous laughter coming. “I suppose you must have needed dumplings quite urgently to make the trip all the way to Rathefrost.”

“Indeed.” He held up the paper bag. “Incidentally, sometimes one also needs ice cream. In the interest of not depleting your personal supply of ice cream, I’ve brought some.”

“Ah, your own personal ice cream,” Annaiette said with an approving nod.

“I might be convinced to share. For dumplings, perhaps.”

She grinned. “It just so happens there are dumplings available to exchange for ice cream. Let me put it in the freezer.”

Annaiette knew logically that she had nothing at all to be ashamed of, but as Solus meandered after her into the kitchen, glancing about her living room as he went, she couldn’t help but feel an illogical self-consciousness creeping through her mind. It was held at bay by a single thought: if Solus Galvus found her cozy little home lacking, then he could take his undeserving arse and his ice cream back to his fancy penthouse in Centri.

But to her relief, when she looked back at him she found the tension in his face had eased and he was examining the spread of dumplings with his hands in his pockets and an almost carefree amusement.

“When you’re hungry, you certainly don’t play around,” he said with a wry smile.

“I will entertain the thought that I might have overdone it. But only entertain it,” she laughed. She handed him a plate and gestured to the dumplings with a small flourish. “Help yourself.”

She watched him for a moment, still reeling from the fact that one of the founders of AnyderSoft had come by for dumplings. A founder whom she had not yet offered water or any sort of beverage.

“Would you like something to drink? Water?” She glanced at her crowded alcohol corner in the kitchen. “I’ve got alcohol if you’re so inclined.”

“Water, if you please.” He paused a moment and she saw the corner of his mouth upturn just slightly. “Though I won’t refuse whatever alcohol you wish to offer.”

And soon they were sitting across from each other at her little dining table with a plate of dumplings each and their drinks. Though it was too soon to feel any effects from the alcohol, the mere act of sipping the whiskey was enough to ease Annaiette out of her anxieties, and a few sips of water had her feeling more like herself.

“The dumplings aren’t quite as good when they’re delivered, but it scratches the itch well enough,” she said, grinning, and she was happy to see Solus smile in turn.

“Sometimes one just wants dumplings, takeout or no.”

And with the help of dumplings (and alcohol), the awkward tension that had accompanied his arrival slowly melted away into the easy conversation that she’d grown to enjoy. So easy, in fact, that before she knew it, she was showing him the shark bite wounds on her hands and arms since she was quite pleased with how they were healing. Which then prompted a discussion about just what sort of person brings sharks to a tech summit (a fascinating one, apparently), which then reminded her of a less painful and more distant shark encounter she once had while swimming in the ocean not terribly long ago, which then reminded Solus of a Firestarter for some sort of overengineered paddle board that had garnered quite a bit of drama over its mediocrity—

Two bells in, she realized that they hadn’t had any ice cream yet.

“So, have you been convinced to share your personal ice cream?” Annaiette asked with a grin.

Solus thought silently for a moment whilst making a show of cocking his head back and forth—to which she couldn't help but grin wider—until finally he nodded.

“The dumplings were sufficiently convincing, yes.”

She let out a barking laugh that she might have held back if she wasn’t ever so slightly buzzed before going to fetch the ice cream from the freezer. The ice cream in question turned out to be from one of the local creameries that she quite liked, and there were even little takeout packets with an assortment of toppings—she hadn’t noticed them earlier because she shoved the entire paper bag into the freezer without looking inside.

“You’ve brought an entire sundae kit,” she called from the kitchen. “Are you certain the dumplings were sufficient?”

“Exceedingly so,” came his wry response.

When she returned to the dining table with the ice cream bag and a pair of bowls and spoons, she found he had thoughtfully put the dishes in the sink to make room. As she unpacked the bag, it became clear that there were so many more packets than expected—there were two different pints of ice cream but fifteen little packets of various nuts, sprinkles, sauces, and even a pair of cherries.

“Why are there so many?” Annaiette laughed in disbelief. Solus shrugged.

“Deciding on just a few toppings was a terrible amount of effort. Ergo, I asked for a little bit of everything.”

He said this so matter-of-factly that Annaiette let out another bark of laughter.

“Well, I appreciate it—even if it was just because you didn’t want to make the effort to pick.”

Solus smirked and gestured at the spread on the table. “Since you provided the dumplings, it’s only fair that you have first pick of ice cream.”

Annaiette didn’t need telling twice. “If you insist!”

There was a pint of the tried-and-true plain chocolate and what must be one of the creamery’s seasonal flavors, a rolanberry lavender one that smelled quite nice. She scooped herself a helping of both before cackling to herself as she began opening all the little packets of toppings. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw both mild disbelief and amusement on Solus’ face whilst she sprinkled a bit of everything onto her ice cream.

“I must admit, hero, I didn’t expect you to use all the toppings at once,” Solus chuckled when she finished her disaster of a sundae.

“The poor employee had to scoop all those toppings into all those little packets, so I’m simply appreciating their hard work.” And to punctuate her thought, she pressed a cherry onto the top of her pile.

Annaiette waited and watched as Solus scooped his own ice cream. It was interesting that he appeared to favor chocolate—the scoops of chocolate were far more substantial than the small scoop of rolanberry—and she was somewhat surprised to find that he emptied the rest of the fruity cereal packet and the chocolate cookie crumble into his bowl. And while he didn’t use all the toppings, his bowl resembled hers once he was finished. Seeing the illustrious Solus Galvus with a similar disaster of a bowl—with fruity cereal!—drew a small laugh from her chest as her heart fluttered.

“Are you judging me, my dear?” Solus asked, voice heavy with sarcasm. “You said just a moment ago that the person worked very hard to scoop the toppings. It’s only right that I appreciate their work as well.”

“I’m not judging you! I’m simply appreciating your good taste,” she laughed, grinning.

There were quite a lot of things spread across the dining table now, and Annaiette felt that it might be more comfortable to sit on the couch rather than awkwardly pushing things around to make space. She plopped herself down and leaned over the backrest, grinning and waving an arm to beckon him over.

“Cheers, Mr. Galvus,” said Annaiette brightly, holding her bowl of ice cream out to Solus as he took a seat on the other end of the couch. It wasn’t a very long couch; it was intended as a three-seater but it was just a bit too small to practically seat three adults (unless they were Lalafell), and thus they were close enough that Annaiette could almost feel the warmth radiating off him.

Solus clinked his bowl to hers with a thin smile and a small tip of his head.

“Cheers, Ms. Verdeleaux.”

Her ice-cream-with-everything-on-top sundae was magnificent in its absurdity, where each bite there was a surprise mix of nuts or cereal or cookie which happened to also have ice cream underneath. Solus, too, seemed to be enjoying himself—the thin smile hadn’t left his face and he leisurely crunched his generously topped ice cream as though it wasn’t an inelegant but glorious pile of sweets. He noticed her watching and she saw his shoulders move with a silent laugh as he continued crunching away, and the silence of this moment it gave Annaiette’s heart an infinitesimal moment of pause—

The lighthearted ribbing from her friends, their expressions of disbelief when she did something she felt was perfectly normal but they deemed eccentric—

All absent in lieu of a silly sort of camaraderie in their outrageous bowls of ice cream.

Annaiette suddenly realized she was laughing—it had started quietly and slowly grew until she was grinning so widely that she couldn’t quite use her lips to get the ice cream off her spoon. Her face was warming and her chest was fluttering and she very much wished for it to stop, because this was Solus Galvus of all people and why would she—

“Something wrong, hero?”

Solus’ voice punched through her confusion—she may as well have been actually punched in the face—and when she return to her senses, she saw that he was watching her with a wry smile and an eyebrow raised just slightly—for some reason her face was burning red—

Her mouth moved on its own.

“Can I kiss you?”

As soon as she heard the words come out, her face burned hotter and immediately she began sputtering an apology as time seemed to stretch on and on and on and on in the wake of her latest gaffe—

—surely he was going to leave immediately because she had obviously gone insane—

“Yes.”

The world stopped.

Annaiette could hear nothing but the deafening pounding of her heart, which beat so fiercely that her lungs could hardly draw breath—her mind was slow and sluggish and her thoughts incoherent—the smile had left Solus’ face and she saw his jaw clench—there was no way he wanted this, he couldn’t want this—and yet her body leaned forward despite inwardly struggling for restraint—

She pressed her lips to his.

They were soft—so much softer than she imagined—the scent of chocolate lingered upon them and upon his breath—

His lips stiffened under hers and in horror at what she’d done, Annaiette hastily withdrew—of course he didn’t want this—why did she do that, why did she do that—

As a hasty apology began tumbling out of her mouth, she felt fingers quickly close around her hand to stay her retreat. The pale gold eyes of Solus Galvus met hers—searching her face, perhaps even her soul—she felt her own words fade as his lips moved soundlessly, as though conflicted—

She tore her eyes from his gaze and turned away as she tried to pull her hand free, but he didn’t let go. She pulled again, harder this time—her hand came free and she quickly tried to repeat the apology that had been interrupted earlier—

She felt a hand on her cheek, gently turning her head back.

Her eyes met his once more.

They were soft, longing.

He slowly closed the distance between them and his lips met hers, gently, almost tentatively, almost apologetic, and in this moment with the feel of his skin on hers and his breath mingling with her breath, all her worries and fears and anxieties vanished and they melted into each other—

In this moment there was nothing else but him.

And her.

And when they pulled away—

     —hesitantly—

          —reluctantly—

Solus Galvus’ pale gold eyes met Annaiette Verdeleaux’s gray blue.

He smiled.

She smiled.

Chapter Text

The morning arrived gently, almost as a whisper that coaxed Solus’ mind out of a darkness that felt softer than it had in years.

His phone’s alarm hadn’t yet demanded his presence in the waking world, and so he drifted in the soft darkness as his mind slowly gathered itself. Eventually he found himself at the point of half-wakefulness, where awareness had returned to his mind whilst his body attempted to deny the oncoming day by settling himself deeper into the sheets. The smell was different—pleasant and warm, with a hint of sage and the scent of another—

Solus slowly opened his eyes.

Annaiette Verdeleaux lay fast asleep beside him.

In the dim light of the early morning, he could see her cheek squashed against the pillow and her mouth pushed slightly open because of it—a decidedly ungraceful sight that, in his sleep-addled state, gently tugged at the corners of his mouth. But sleep soon reclaimed him, the image of her fading as hazy reminders of the previous night’s activities drifted through the soft darkness of half-sleep: a vague inertia in his underexercised body and the weary calm in spite of it, the ghost of the hands of another on his skin and the ghost of his hands on the skin of another…

Solus was unceremoniously pulled from sleep when the sudden flutter of his heart caught his breath.

He let out a quiet but sharp puff of air through his nose to loosen his chest and furrowed his brow at his body’s embarrassing antics; this behavior was a relic of a time long-lost and long-forgotten and ill-fitted someone his age, least not when he was all but certain this was simply a one-time interaction born of dumplings and too much ice cream. Isn’t that how it always went? A singular moment that spiraled into passions that rarely lasted?

Annaiette shifted and her eyes opened just a crack—just enough for her eyes to find his, only for them to be pushed shut again as she nuzzled her cheek into the pillow.

“Good morning,” she murmured sleepily. The corners of her mouth twitched upward as she breathed softly, “You’re still here.”

He lay there in silence, turning her languid words over in his mind as he watched her consciousness drift away from the waking world.

This moment allowed a traitorous voice in his mind to find purchase within, affording it the space to present a host of questions: had she expected him to take his leave once their nighttime activities were concluded? Did she think he thought so lowly of her? Or she think so lowly of him?

While rationality tugged at those words as though to coax them back into the shadows, Solus felt the tiniest knot of anxiety forming in his gut.

Annaiette stirred again, this time inhaling deeply with her face half-squashed in the pillow before rolling onto her back and slowly stretching her long Elezen body out. Her foot brushed against his leg and felt his heart recoil from the sensation, all despite the fact that he had spent much of the previous night pressed closer to another than he had in a number of years…

She concluded her stretch with a loud, unabashed yawn, and as though rebounding back after pulling her body taut, she curled up on her side and peered at him with a smile and crinkled eyes.

“If it isn’t What’s His Face,” Annaiette said with a hint of a teasing laugh behind her words.

“How can you be so sure, my dear?” Solus’ wry reply came effortlessly despite the earlier anxiety creeping through him. “Your knowledge of his face seems dubious at best.”

Annaiette made a show of examining his face, her eyes darting back and forth across his face as she made intermittent hmm sounds. “Definitely What’s His Face.” She paused a moment before the corner of her mouth twitched upward. “Probably.”

There was a moment of silence shared between them before she burst into a loud, unrestrained laughter that reverberated into his chest and sparked his own laughter in turn. As her laughter faded into a quiet smile, she rolled onto her back as she reached for her phone on the bedside table, squinting at the clock before sighing and shutting her eyes as she put it back down.

“I don’t want to go to work,” she murmured as she absently massaged the ear that had been squashed into the pillow as she slept.

“A sentiment I find I share,” Solus agreed as he yawned and finally straightened out his back, grimacing as his old bones let out a series of pops and cracks.

Annaiette inhaled and slowly exhaled. “I think I’ll take the day off,” she said. “I haven’t taken much PTO and I’m not in any mood to argue on code reviews today.”

“Ah. And is our vaunted hero a villain in this code review?” Solus asked, smirking.

“I like to think I’m fighting to finally get the work done,” she huffed, pulling the blanket up to her chin. “Protecting the codebase is one thing, but I’m not sure the amount of refactoring required is entirely worth the effort.”

Solus tutted wryly. “Therein lies danger, my dear. You may very well return to this code in fifteen years and wish you had made a different decision.”

Annaiette gave him a sidelong glance and grinned. “It sounds as if you’re speaking from experience.”

Something indistinct stirred in the back of his mind, faint whispers of an old, uncomfortable feeling which he dealt with as he did all his old, uncomfortable feelings: by pushing it aside and pointedly ignoring it. It was never a productive feeling and served only to irritate him.

And so push it aside he did.

“My empire is built upon the remains of untold sins, a fact which I am certain you’re aware,” he said airily.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a briefest flash of some sort of emotion on Annaiette’s face, but it quickly gave way to a grin and a laugh.

“Sometimes I forget What’s His Face is in fact an emperor,” she chuckled before sitting up in one fluid—and admittedly impressive—motion, stretching her arms up into the air. She let out an impressive yawn as she stretched, before dropping her arms and peering over her shoulder at him. “So what will it be, Your Radiance? You’re welcome to hide away from your imperial duties here if you wish. I may even order the imperial kitchen to make you hot cakes.” There was a brief silence as she considered her words, and after a moment he caught a subtle recoil in her face and neck. “But I know you’re busy, of course, so—ah—whatever you’d like to do!”

Solus mentally reviewed what he remembered of his calendar. While he wanted nothing more than to simply melt into the darkness—an exceedingly comfortable darkness in this bed, currently, and perhaps have those hypothetical hot cakes—he had a handful of meetings he ought to attend, including one with Lahabrea…

The sun, though, was quickly rising. And with it, the ever-present concern that he might be noticed in public, with the additionally present concern that it may cause some manner of mild but annoying PR incident should the too-online sort of person notice him leaving an apartment which was obviously not his—

“I should leave before someone manages to put us on Kwehtr,” said Solus wearily. “Hero, do you have a hat you might be willing to part with?”

“I don’t have many normal hats…” she said, trailing off in uncertainty.

Solus had just opened his mouth to tell her that the lack of hats was regrettable but not a problem when she suddenly spun around and somehow twisted midair to face him, bouncing him ungracefully as she landed on all fours.

“I don’t have a hat, but I do have a spare motorbike helmet!” she said triumphantly as he carefully did not peer into the oversized neck opening of her oversized shirt.

“Ah, I shall make a fine sight sitting in the backseat of a car in utmost safety,” said Solus with a thin smirk.

Annaiette’s bright laugh made his heart skip a beat.

“No, you shall ride my motorbike in utmost safety,” Annaiette declared, grinning. “I can take you home. If you want, of course.”

This prospect was so far out of the realm of possibilities conjured by Solus’ mind that he was rendered momentarily speechless by the offer.

“It’s fine if you’d rather not!” Annaiette added hastily, her voice pitching higher as she laughed a nervy, embarrassed laugh to fill the silence. “I—ah—I just thought I’d offer!”

When Solus weighed his options, it wasn’t hard to see the superior choice: leave without a hat and risk being seen whilst waiting for a ride, or put the helmet on and be delivered directly to his doorstep with his face obscured all the while.

“If you are offering, my dear, who am I to refuse?”

She let out a gleeful noise somewhere between a laugh and a whoop, and in a flurry of legs—bare legs—she all but leapt from the bed to the dresser. Before Solus could even begin to offer to leave the room whilst she got ready, Annaiette had already thrown her night shirt off. Her back was to him and he was shocked to see raised scars crisscrossing her back and left shoulder, scars which he wouldn’t have noticed in the dark even if he hadn’t been otherwise occupied—

But Annaiette was not putting on any sort of show—in moments she had a clean shirt on and was in the process of pulling fresh pants on when she looked back to him still laying in the bed. “Ah, I perhaps should have asked if you were ready to leave,” she said apologetically.

“So eager to be rid of me,” Solus replied in mock hurt before slowly pulling himself from the comfort of the bed.

She merely grinned in response and left to rummage about in a closet for the promised motorbike helmet. Solus made a quick visit to the bathroom—it smelled faintly of fruity hair products and had a clutter of toiletries scattered across the meager counter space—before following the trail of his discarded clothing into the living room. Annaiette was busy removing things from a closet by the door to presumably get the aforementioned helmet.

“Got it! These should fit you!”

Solus had been in the middle of buttoning his shirt cuffs and glanced up to find Annaiette triumphantly holding a red full-face motorbike helmet and jacket aloft. She’d gained a pair of glasses in the time he spent getting dressed and they were slightly askew from her efforts—something about the sight of it prodded at Solus enough for him to huff to loosen his chest.

“I have to ask, hero: why do you have a spare set of gear that is clearly not for you?” Solus asked, a hint of a smirk on his face.

“Oh, Nero left these here a long time ago,” she said, crinkling her nose just slightly in annoyance. “He keeps forgetting to take it back, and I keep forgetting to bring it to him. Luckily for you, you’ll probably fit into it just fine! Try them on while I put my gear on.”

From the size of the jacket, Solus presumed she meant Nero Scaeva, the Garlean whose robotic project she’d taken him to see. The heavy jacket was sporty with a white base and red detailing that matched the red helmet, and true to her word it fit his Garlean proportions well enough. He took one look at the helmet, though, and was entirely unconvinced that his head would fit. However, Annaiette had evidently been watching for this eventuality and quickly stepped in, taking the helmet and holding it over his head whilst pulling the opening wide—this movement very nearly pressed her body to his and Solus wished his heart wouldn’t pound so willfully in his chest.

But he didn’t have long to ruminate on this when the helmet was firmly pushed over his head.

“Agh—hero—are you sure—” he managed to say as the helmet was pulled over his forehead.

“It’ll fit, trust me!” she said encouragingly, but he was convinced it was much too tight and he was never going to get his head through it—the foolishness, the indignity of it all—

His head finally slipped through, the tightness giving way as the helmet’s inner padding snugly framed his head and face, and he opened his eyes to find a pleased Annaiette staring back at him. She put her hands on either side of his helmet, giving it a gentle twist to test its fit. His head moved with it and she gave the sides an approving pat.

“Perfect. It’s very important to protect What’s His Face’s face, after all.”

Her hands remained—as did her eyes, their corners crinkling as they met his—

She shut the visor with a grin and Solus let out the breath he hadn’t known he was holding in.

He watched in silence as she put her own gear on. Solus had never given much thought to motorbike helmets, but after this experience of shoving his head through the opening he realized that it would be impractical to do so with long, protruding ears such as hers. Or it would have been, had the front half of her helmet not flipped up to allow her to put it on without the need to flatten her ears against her head. With one deft swipe she flipped the face-half back down, her ears fitting perfectly into their protective shells. Admittedly impressive helmet technology he never once gave a thought to until today.

With her gear donned, she gestured to the door with a small bow.

“After you, Your Radiance.”

Solus stepped outside and was immediately glad for the helmet: Annaiette’s next-door neighbor was just leaving his unit and appeared to be the insufferably friendly sort who was compelled to chat with anyone in their path.

“Nero! Been a while, hasn’t it?” said the Miqo’te neighbor, looking up at Solus with an entirely too-happy grin for this early in the morning.

“Ah, morning! This isn’t Nero,” Annaiette laughed as she locked her door, and Solus thought he caught a hint of anxiety in her voice. “This is—erm—Lucius. He’s just borrowing Nero’s gear today.”

“Oh, I see! Nice to meet you, Lucius!” said the neighbor brightly, but thankfully he did not reach out to shake hands. “What kind of motorbike do you have, Lucius? I’m much too scared to ride one but it looks so fun! Nero let me sit on his once, which I thought was fun in its own right and—”

“Sorry, U’linh, we actually have somewhere to be so I'll talk to you later!” Annaiette interrupted with the tense politeness of one who wished to leave with all haste, before giving the neighbor a friendly wave and beckoning Solus down the stairs.

“Oh, all right! See you later!” called the neighbor.

When they were out of earshot, Annaiette let out a small sigh and a weary laugh. “Sorry, U’linh is very nice but he will talk your ears off if you give him an ilm,” she said apologetically.

“Nero must be here often if your neighbors know him,” said Solus. “And if he has gear in your closet.”

The words came unbidden, accompanied by a confusing weight in his chest.

“He used to spend a lot of time at my place,” Annaiette said lightly, and Solus thought he heard the slightest hint of anxiety in her voice again. “Not much anymore, though! He spends all his time with Cid these days.”

“Ah.”

An awkward silence fell between them as they made for the parking garage. Solus couldn’t be certain if she was bothered about Nero spending time with Cid or not—surely she was unbothered if she was happy to help them with their robot—

“Here we are!”

Her bright voice pulled him from the tangle of thoughts beginning to form in his mind, and what Solus saw brought all those thoughts to an immediate halt.

The motorbike was a sport bike.

It hardly had any space for a pillion passenger, and for the first time since her motorbike suggestion Solus felt a creeping unease at the prospect.

“Hero. Are you certain we’ll fit?”

Annaiette was quick to catch his discomfort and made to allay his concerns by flipping her visor up to reveal her eyes. “We’ll fit, I promise! It won’t be the most comfortable, but we aren’t going too far!” She paused for a moment before adding, “But I don’t want to force you if you’re uncomfortable at all! It’s absolutely fine—we’ll get you home another way—”

Solus’ knee-jerk reaction was to simply walk away and call for a taxi or rideshare or some other non-motorbike mode of transportation. He was much too old for this and it was laughable that he even thought to agree to this—imagine the news headlines if they crashed in the middle of rush hour—

But as he watched her eyes—eyes that told him she would not question him if he truly didn’t want to ride the motorbike—

Eyes that told him he would be safe if he did—

“Don’t make me regret trusting What’s Her Face,” he finally said.

Her effusive laugh filled the air despite being muffled by the helmet, and though he couldn’t see her mouth, her cheeks and eyes were pushed up by her grin.

“What’s Her Face wouldn’t dream of it!” She moved to stand beside the motorbike—a deep blue one with white detailing that looked less aggressive than a true racing bike but was still very much a sport bike—and held up a finger. “There are rules that even emperors have to follow!” She leaned down to pop foot pegs out of the body. “First: keep your feet on the pegs at all times, even if we’re stopped. Second: no wiggling! You will have to hold me tightly—but not too tightly or I won’t be able to breathe and it will be bad for both of us. Lastly: tap my thigh madly if you need me to stop for any reason.”

“Bold of you to make demands of the Emperor, but I accept.”

He caught sight of the crinkle in her eyes before she flipped her visor back down.

“Then let’s get you home!”

She swung a leg over the motorbike with practiced ease, situating herself before looking back at him and patting the space behind her. To Solus’ eyes it certainly looked like there wouldn’t be room, but he supposed this was the part where he was meant to trust her. He edged awkwardly onto the pillion seat and put his feet on the pegs, which were so high that his knees were nearly pressed against her ribs.

“Shift closer to me,” Annaiette said, peering at him over her shoulder. “Put your arms around my waist and give me a tap when you’re ready.”

Solus thought himself already close enough but shifted an ilm or so closer regardless, but it appeared she wished him to be closer still: she tapped his knee to get him to scoot further, and wasn’t satisfied until he was essentially straddling her back. Despite their late night activities, he frustratingly found her touch sending inexplicable, levin-like ripples across his skin that he had to consciously ignore so as to settle himself firmly in the pillion seat. He exhaled sharply through his nose to loosen his chest and get a godsdamned grip on both himself and her waist.

“Ready?”

He tapped her thigh, and with that she gave him a thumbs-up and shifted the bike to lift the kickstand. For a fraught half-second Solus thought they would tip from his weight and he instinctively tightened his grip around her waist, but he felt her muscles flex to easily hold them steady—a moment later the engine flared into life and against all of Solus’ expectations for the day or perhaps even his entire life, he and she and the motorbike were moving. Solus found his limbs stiffening out of reflex as she slowly navigated the bike out of the parking garage; it was hard to resist the urge to put a foot down as they made the slow turns, but they didn’t tip nor crash and the motorbike only grew more stable as they gained speed out in the street proper.

Once they were out amongst the cars in the street where two-tonze metal machina were some few fulms beside them, Solus found himself feeling unsettlingly small and fragile—traveling thirty malms per bell was agonizingly slow in a car, but on this motorbike with only a helmet and Annaiette’s driving skill to protect them, thirty malms per bell felt like he was hurtling down the street at gut-wrenching speeds.

When he realized Annaiette was taking them toward the highway on-ramp, his arms reflexively tightened around her waist. Tight enough that at the next stoplight, she peered over her shoulder at him as best she could.

“All right, Solus?” came her muffled voice. The sound of his name pulled him from his mire of motorbike thoughts and to hear it was somehow reassuring: in this moment there was no joking or nonsense, and he knew she was wholly focused on the task at hand and their safety all the while.

“Yes, doing fine.”

“Good.” And as though she could sense his worries, she added before turning back toward the road, “We’ll take the highway because there will be fewer turns and less traffic.”

Solus was skeptical that the highway would be less traffic, but he supposed it would be better than stopping every two blocks at a red light. But when they reached the on-ramp and had the highway in view, he saw that she was right; the on-ramp fed into the collector lane for the interchange that would take them to Centri, which meant that the rest of the carriageway was on the other side of the concrete barrier.

Which also meant that they would be free to go faster than thirty malms per bell.

The motorbike’s engine revved underneath them as though in warning and Solus soon felt as though the motorbike and Annaiette were pulling away from him—he clung tighter with arms and knees both as the motorbike picked up speed, a muted terror in his gut growing as they zipped down the motorway.

As their speed stabilized, though—as the engine settled into a steady rhythm and Solus could focus on the way they moved through the wind—he felt the terror fade just enough into the background for him to feel the slightest measure of a thrill. Just enough for everything to fall away, as though it were only he, Annaiette, and the motorbike flying down the road…

But their time on the motorway wasn’t meant to last long. The off ramp into the looming high rises of Centri was quickly approaching, and all too soon they were stopped and waiting at the stoplight. She glanced briefly over her shoulder with a slight tilt in her head that quite clearly asked how he was doing, and when he nodded once, she turned back toward the road.

And in no time at all and with a brief and confusing sense of disappointment, they were parked before the front door of his building. She steadied the motorbike and glanced over her shoulder, which Solus took as his cue to dismount. He awkwardly clambered off the motorbike and was supremely relieved that he didn’t trip on the raised curb in full view of the intrigued doorman and passersby.

“So do you regret trusting What’s Her Face?” Annaiette asked as she flipped up her visor, a hint of a laugh in her voice.

Solus paused a moment—for effect, he told himself, but his chest fluttered as though to mock him.

“Not at all. An impressive feat, I assure you.”

He felt her muffled but unrestrained laugh in his chest.

“I’ll take that as a compliment, then!” She held up a hand in farewell. “Don’t mind returning the gear, I can come for it any time. Hope you have a very not-infuriating day at work!”

He held up a hand in turn. “Unlikely, but one never knows.”

He just caught a glimpse of the crinkle in her eyes before she flipped the visor back down, and he couldn’t help but silently watch as she revved the motorbike once before zipping off and disappearing around a corner.

When finally he turned to enter the building, he found the doorman watching him with curiosity born of both boredom and his duty to prevent unknown persons from entering the building. Solus flipped the visor up and put a finger up to the helmet to shush him before he could be questioned. Upon seeing his eyes the doorman immediately relaxed, nodding once in understanding as he opened the door and gave him a very neutral, “Good morning.”

When Solus was safely inside his home and well away from any prying eyes, he pulled the helmet off and sank down onto his sofa with a long, heavy sigh. His empty, silent living room provided no distraction from the buzzing thoughts now unavoidably prominent in his mind:

Just what in the godsdamned hells had he done over the past twelve bells?

The feeling of utter solitude slowly closed in around him.

With a shuddering, shaky breath he buried his face in his hands.

It was quite a good morning for Hythlodaeus. Most of his mornings were generally good, but this morning—as he leisurely strolled to his dearest friend’s office with a cappuccino as a peace offering—this morning was sure to be one of the best ones in quite a long while. Said friend hadn’t answered his texts all night, and Hythlodaeus wouldn’t have known he was even in the office if he hadn’t fortuitously caught the online status indicator on his email profile picture turning from yellow to red to Do Not Disturb.

Hythlodaeus was quite certain his very dear friend could be disturbed because this time slot was generally when he had his monthly 1:1 syncs with Lahabrea, which Lahabrea preferred to do in person, which meant that he was unlikely to be doing anything online that necessitated the Do Not Disturb status, which meant that Lahabrea probably canceled and his friend was probably sulking at his desk for some reason or another.

Likely related to the reason his friend hadn’t answered any of his texts.

He crossed paths with one of the senior engineers who regularly worked with his dear friend as she left the kitchen with a fresh mug of coffee. The Lalafellin woman flicked her eyes toward his friend’s office as she took a sip from her mug.

“He’s in a right mood today,” she said, with a sort of serene expression that only just concealed the smug smile pressed to the lip of her mug.

Hythlodaeus’ interest was immediately piqued.

“Oh?”

This particular engineer shared his love of office gossip and had a disarming, nonthreatening air that concealed a sharp wit and a deep understanding of people and their behavior; as such, she generally knew when his friend’s moods were anything to be concerned about, at least from a work day survivability perspective. She took another sip from her mug as her smile widened.

“Stormed in about an hour later than usual and hasn’t left his office since,” she quietly said into the rim of her mug. “Hardly made eye contact when I said ‘good morning.’”

“Goodness, it’s worse than I thought,” Hythlodaeus chuckled. The engineer cheekily raised her eyebrows at him as she took her leave with her mug still pressed to her lips.

With confirmation that his silly, troubled friend was indeed holed up in his office, Hythlodaeus continued on his way with a small bounce in his step.

His friend’s office door was shut but Hythlodaeus could see his silhouette through the frosted glass. He knocked as a courtesy and silently snickered at his friend’s predictable response:

“I know it’s you. Go away!”

Which, of course, Hythlodaeus took as an invitation to let himself in.

The sight of Hades glaring at him from behind his monitors like a wet cat glowering from the corner of a shower was altogether too much for Hythlodaeus and he couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. This did nothing to lessen Hades’ resemblance to a wet cat and indeed, he bristled even more as his hand visibly tightened over his computer mouse. At this, Hythlodaeus felt a measure of concern—it had been quite a long while since he’d seen Hades like this, and if not for the fact that Hades was hiding in his office of all places, Hythlodaeus might have wondered if an actual crisis had befallen him.

“What has you so wound up this morning, my friend?” Hythlodaeus asked as he took a seat across from his friend. When he placed the cappuccino before Hades, he hmphed and made a show checking his email.

“Nothing,” he huffed.

Hythlodaeus’ smile widened just so. Definitely not an actual crisis, then.

“Might it be related to the reason you missed my texts last night?” he offered lightly. He didn’t mind in the least if Hades didn’t respond to his texts, but Hades did reliably give him at least a short “yes” or “no” when Hythlodaeus asked time sensitive questions, such as: “Do you want to watch a movie? The showing is at 10.” (He went to the movie without Hades and it was delightful).

“Apologies,” Hades retorted stiffly, his eyes still fixed on the emails he was certainly not reading as he took a sip from the cappuccino.

“It’s fine, my friend,” Hythlodaeus said brightly before allowing his face to soften. “Are you all right? Did something happen last night?”

Hades’ lips pursed for just a moment and Hythlodaeus saw his neck briefly tense as he redoubled his efforts to appear that he was busy with emails.

“No. Get out.”

“Hades.”

He huffed and the furrow in his brow deepened. Hythlodaeus gave him a few moments of silence; if Hades didn’t crack after these few moments, then Hythlodaeus knew to leave him be for some few bells before checking in again.

Another huff.

“Annaiette invited me to her apartment.”

These were words that Hythlodaeus did not expect.

These were words that he had been hoping to hear many moons in the future at the earliest, once his stubborn friend finally worked through the thick knots of anxiety within.

These were words that had him slowly, silently grinning ear from ear.

The longer he remained silent, the more flustered Hades became and in turn, the more certain Hythlodaeus became that he hadn’t turned down said invitation. But because he was not volunteering this information, Hythlodaeus asked gently:

“And did you accept?”

“I did.”

At this terse response, Hythlodaeus raised an eyebrow. Had he somehow not enjoyed himself whilst paying a visit to Annaiette?

“What’s the matter? You didn’t have a nice time?”

“Of course it was a nice time,” Hades snapped, but there was no bite in his voice—almost as though it was a halfhearted attempt at keeping up his usual grump persona. “She ordered dumplings. Far too many dumplings for one person to reasonably eat. Though I’m sure she considered it.”

He paused. A pink tinge was slowly appearing on Hades’ cheeks.

Hythlodaeus waited patiently.

“I spent the night.”

Hades’ reddening face told Hythlodaeus all he needed to know and it was at this point that he could no longer contain himself.

“Is that all?” Hythlodaeus laughed in glee and disbelief and somehow, relief. “Why the drama, my friend? Didn’t you just say you had a nice time?”

Hades buried his face in his hands and made a long, drawn-out noise of frustration.

“Whyever are you upset?” Hythlodaeus asked, his disbelief only growing. Hades lowered his hands from his face to reveal a deep scowl.

“You will find that you are quite mistaken,” said Hades, despite appearing quite obviously upset. “Are you finished concerning yourself with matters that don’t concern you?”

“Obviously not.” Hythlodaeus dropped any lighthearted pretense in favor of genuine concern. “What happened that has you wound up so? Did she say something to you?”

Annaiette was—insofar as he could tell—so very kind, so he would be very surprised indeed to find that she’d said something mean-spirited or cruel enough to fluster Hades, though it was perhaps more plausible that it was her kindness itself that was currently flustering him. Or she might have said something that would have been innocuous to most people but Hades being Hades, it was something he’d latched onto and was currently spiraling over it—

“Of course not,” Hades huffed. “It was naught but a night of fun, nothing more.” He got to his feet abruptly, brushing the wrinkles out of his shirt and pocketing his phone. “Now, you shall have to excuse me, Hythlodaeus, as some of us have meetings to attend this morning.”

Hades left his office with a wave—ostensibly unbothered with the mask of Solus Galvus now firmly in place—but Hythlodaeus knew better.

Hythlodaeus couldn’t help but shake his head and let out a small sigh of exasperation.

Chapter Text

The sun was still bells away from rising to greet the sleeping Ishgard, but a pair of Elezen were already awake and busy.

“Are you certain it will work this time? Last time, you got sweaty and got it all over me.”

“Have faith, my friend! I have done ample research in preparation, never fear.”

“You certainly have! I’m actually quite impressed.”

“Well, one mustn’t waste the time of a dear friend who has graciously agreed to help me prepare.”

“And you made breakfast. Did you even sleep?”

As though to emphasize her question, Annaiette tried and failed to stifle an enormous yawn. Though she was looking forward to the day’s festivities, the excitement wasn’t enough to rally against her lack of sleep; she’d only managed to get three or four bells of sleep after her evening arrival in Ishgard, and air travel and its associated tribulations were always at least a little exhausting.

Haurchefant, true to form, was perfectly awake and unbelievably energetic for someone who had likely slept even less—he had woken earlier to cook a lovely breakfast for them both.

“I slept more than enough!” Haurchefant said brightly. He took a long draught from his mug before getting up from the kitchen table. “You enjoy your breakfast while I shower, and then we can get started!”

Annaiette yawned again, nodding and waving as he disappeared into the hallway.

She was in Ishgard to join Haurchefant and her other Ishgardian friends in the annual Dragonsong Run, an event that was ostensibly a footrace that wound all throughout the city, but by now was more a festival to celebrate the friendship of dragons and men. There were serious runners who were actually trying to race—the course was actually relatively challenging due to Ishgard’s hills—but the majority of participants were there for the festivities, with two well-known traditions: the first of which was silly costumes, ranging from elaborate multi-person dragon costumes to bare bodies painted in bright designs.

Or naked bodies, even.

Haurchefant ran naked one year and was quite popular amongst the crowd.

The other tradition was adjacent to the first. While it wasn’t a rule of any kind, the dragons often dressed as humans, whilst the humans would dress up as dragons, almost always in the silliest and most irreverent ways possible. Crowd favorites included: dragons in archaic (and decidedly heretical) church garb, dragonets with fake Mi’qote or Elezen ears affixed to their little heads, and Elezen in inflatable dragon costumes with floppy arms and floppier heads.

As she ate her eggs and toast, Annaiette examined the printouts that Haurchefant left on the table. The printouts were very detailed references for his intended body paint costume, which Annaiette had agreed to help paint onto his body. The costume—an ostentatious, fantastical rendition of Saint Shiva designed by Ysayle originally intended to be made of fabric to wear at conventions—required most of Haurchefant to be painted a pale blue and wear an over-the-top wig with spiraling hair…horns? Ysayle hadn’t the time to actually make the costume, but had jokingly suggested that Haurchefant be painted in the design.

To which he enthusiastically agreed.

Which is why Annaiette was here and up at such an obscene hour.

Haurchefant asked for her assistance after Ysayle abjectly refused to deal with body paint, and Annaiette could never refuse a call to mischief so she agreed without hesitation, even if it meant being awake bells before dawn. Ysayle would be along at a more reasonable hour to do his face makeup and wig.

Annaiette breathed in slowly as she sipped her coffee—the smell and taste were doing their job in pulling her into wakefulness—and regarded the assortment of body painting supplies on the opposite side of the dining table. Haurchefant had certainly done his research this time around, as there were a couple unknown bottles she presumed were meant to properly prime or seal the paint (which she appreciated after his messy attempt at being a painted chocobo one year). The paint brushes and sponges were familiar remnants of said attempt at being a chocobo, and their storage pouches had dried smears of yellow paint decorating them.

She glanced at her phone sitting quietly on the table. It would obviously be silent at this hour, but it was almost an unconscious reflex to look. It was a ridiculous reflex to have, as there was nobody’s texts to be waiting for; Solus Galvus had become reticent following his visit to her home and she hadn’t actually chatted with him for nearly a fortnight now. She told herself it was unsurprising: what had she been thinking, asking Solus Galvus to come over? They’d had an evening of fun, to be true, and she was unashamed of that, but she hated the idea that she might have made him uncomfortable and so didn’t begrudge him for keeping his distance. It was fine.

Absolutely fine.

Her eyes drifted to her phone again.

She turned it facedown and refocused her attention to the printouts.

The sounds of the shower eventually faded, and after a few minutes of relative silence, they were replaced by the sounds of a hair dryer. Not long after that, a cheerful Haurchefant returned to the kitchen, completely bereft of any clothing save for underwear that was already painted for its part in the Shiva design.

“Ah, underwear,” Annaiette chuckled as Haurchefant stood with a grin on his face and his hands on his hips.

“Aymeric and Ysayle insisted,” he explained with a laugh.

“What a pity,” Annaiette replied, shaking her head in mock disapproval. “Although I suppose that saves us the trouble of painting your bits.”

“There is always a bright side, my friend!”

She gestured at the collection of products on the table. “So where do we start with…all of that?”

Haurchefant took a moment to search the pile and plucked a little spray bottle out. “Firstly, a barrier spray! With any luck, I won’t be smudging blue paint onto you or any other unfortunate people today.”

Annaiette nodded approvingly.

Haurchefant picked up a little bottle of pale blue paint. “This for the base skin,” he said, before picking up a bottle of a darker blue and a bottle of dark gray, “and this for the dress part!”

“Will those little bottles be enough?” she asked.

“Ysayle assured me one of each color would be perfectly adequate, but I got extra just in case.”

“Better safe than sorry, lest we run out and you’re only half painted,” Annaiette said, wrinkling her nose. She got to her feet and punched her hand in readiness. “Well, I’m ready if you are!”

Haurchefant picked up the little bottle of barrier spray again, presenting it to her in both hands with a bow. “Annaiette,” he said, looking up at her from his bowed position, “will you do me the honor of spraying my skin with this very small bottle?”

Stifling a laugh, Annaiette took the bottle and solemnly nodded. “It would be my pleasure to spray your skin with this very small bottle, Ser Greystone.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, they both burst into laughter.

And thus they began the long process of painting Haurchefant’s body blue, starting with spraying him with the tiny little bottle of clear liquid. Once he was sufficiently sealed—insofar as they could tell with their untrained eyes—they moved on to the base paint. They worked in tandem whenever possible; Annaiette dabbed paint onto his back with a paint sponge whilst he did his chest and abdomen himself. Before long, he was pale blue all over his torso and his upper legs—they left his face unpainted so that Ysayle would have a blank canvas to work with when she arrived. Their inexperience meant that the paint was untidy and very splotchy in places, but they both agreed that time was of the essence and it wasn’t worth the effort to be much more than good enough.

With the base layer done and still a decent amount of time before the sun would rise, they moved on to the details. This Annaiette had to do mostly on her own for obvious reasons, and she found her concentration flagging. It was far too early in the morning to be squinting at elaborate details to then replicate on her friend’s body, and coffee could only do so much to help. Haurchefant, who was doing his part by using a hair dryer on finished areas to quicken the drying process, intermittently offered cheery encouragement over the noise of the dryer. This coupled with the mantra of It Only Has to be Good Enough kept Annaiette focused, which was particularly helpful whilst she was agonizing over the symmetry of the design on his chest.

The sky outside was brightening when Annaiette finally made it down to Haurchefant’s legs.

“Why don’t you take a break, my friend?” Haurchefant said, gently prising the paintbrush from her fingers. “You sit and I’ll make us a fresh pot of coffee.”

“Have care not to smudge the paint,” Annaiette called as she sank onto a chair and tried to blink the weariness away from her eyes.

“Of course!”

Haurchefant, of course, didn’t look tired in the least and hummed to himself as he prepared a new pot of coffee. Annaiette allowed herself to sit for a few minutes, but a glance at her watch told her that the time of Ysayle’s expected arrival was quickly approaching. Immediately, a deadline-induced second wind came over her.

“Come back, Haurchefant,” she said, beckoning him back from the coffee maker. “Ysayle will be here soon and I want to finish your legs first.”

It proved to be the correct move to call Haurchefant back from the coffee; she was just finishing the details on his thighs when they heard a knock at the door. As Haurchefant dutifully blow dried his legs, Annaiette immediately leapt to her feet to answer the door.

“Morning!” she said perhaps a little too loudly at the mildly frazzled Ysayle that was at the door. Annaiette quickly stepped aside to allow her to pass.

“Morning, apologies for being late,” said Ysayle wearily as she put her big duffel bag down none too gently by the kitchen table.

“We’ve plenty of time, don’t fret,” Haurchefant said brightly.

Ysayle didn’t reply but it was clear she thought there wasn’t enough time and so she was fretting. She bristled slightly as she looked Haurchefant up and down, evaluating the work they’d done.

“Nice work,” she finally said, nodding in approval. “Let’s get started on your face.”

“Ysayle—coffee?” Annaiette asked.

“Gods yes,” was Ysayle’s immediate reply.

Ysayle wasted no time in getting started, and she was already pressing a wig cap into Haurchefant’s hands when Annaiette returned with a mug of coffee. She took two grateful sips but promptly forgot about it on the table when she started rummaging in her duffel for makeup supplies. Annaiette hovered in the background, ready to jump in to help, but Ysayle wanted none; she had her methods and swiftly rebuffed Annaiette’s initial attempts at being helpful.

The time until they needed to be out and on their way to the starting line was quickly approaching. As Ysayle hastily sprayed Haurchefant with another layer of barrier spray, Annaiette slipped away into a room to throw her own costume on: a full-body shark costume she came across online and immediately purchased without a moment’s thought. Fortunately, the shark was easy and required no makeup, which afforded her time to help Ysayle with her singular request for help bobby pinning the absolute hells out of the magnificent Shiva wig to keep it firmly affixed to Haurchefant’s head. They went through nearly a whole package of pins to keep the wig steady, and by the time they were done, Haurchefant could theatrically (within reason) flip the hair about without fear of it flying off.

“You look magnificent, Ser,” Annaiette said, grinning as the blue-painted and bewigged Haurchefant joyfully flipped the hair about.

He reached for Annaiette’s hand—which was encased by a fin—and clasped it warmly. “Thank you for all your hard work, my friends,” he said, squeezing for a moment before clasping Ysayle’s in turn. “I asked for the world and you both gave me tenfold, and for that you have all my gratitude and love.”

Annaiette sometimes felt vaguely flustered by Haurchefant and how earnestly he spoke, but this time she was far too satisfied with her handiwork to feel flustered by his overtures. Ysayle, on the other hand, turned faintly pink and pulled her hand away with a huff and a small roll of her eyes.

“It was naught, no need to lay it on quite so thick,” Ysayle said, frowning and looking away. “Annaiette did all the hard work besides.” She brushed her hair from her face with a tiny huff and went to curl up on the sofa for a nap; Ysayle had no desire to participate in the race, but Annaiette rather thought Ysayle, too, was simply enticed by costumed mischief.

And before Haurchefant could launch into another barrage of compliments or begin offering Ysayle breakfast or blankets or Twelve knows what, Annaiette pointed a fin at the clock on the wall. “We ought to get going, our group needs to line up soon.”

“Right you are, my friend!” said Haurchefant, clapping his hands together. “Let’s be off! Aymeric and Estinien will meet us at the starting line!”

Haurchefant’s apartment was a fifteen minute walk to the race’s starting line in the Brume. Other race participants were similarly making their way to the starting line in a strange procession of big smiles and silly costumes and cheering. Haurchefant was an immediate hit; people cheered and complimented him as they passed, and Annaiette particularly liked the gaggle of dragonets wearing Elezen ears that fluttered excitedly around them as they screeched about how much they liked his skin, before zipping off toward the starting line.

The sounds of an excited, rowdy crowd grew louder and louder the closer they got. Race volunteers could be seen directing people to the staging areas for their starting groups, which were a sort of maze of chain-link fences that funneled people from their group’s staging area to the starting line. The staging areas were organized by group start time, with the fast and serious runners starting first, the charity runners starting next (those runners who were participating to raise money for charity), and then several groups of casual runners. Haurchefant had registered them for the first casual runners group after the charity group, but “running” was generous for any groups not in the first runner group—walking in the causal groups was perfectly fine and was in fact a better way to enjoy the event, and people could leave the race route whenever they pleased.

When they reached their group’s staging area, they quickly spotted Aymeric and Estinien standing under a tree away from the mass of people cheering and batting a giant beach ball around. But before they could join them under the tree, voices called out:

“Twelve, is that Larboard Shark?”

“Larboard Shark!”

“Larboard Shark, where’s Starboard Shark?”

Annaiette stopped to flail her fins around at the people who’d noticed her, and when she saw them raise their phones to take a photo, she laughed and posed with her fins stretched upward. The photo-takers seemed to react with delight to something next to her—she couldn’t see very well in the shark costume—and she turned to find that Haurchefant had posed beside her in what she thought was a Go Go Posing Rangers pose. She chortled and clumsily did some approximation of a Go Go Posing Rangers pose, which must have looked recognizable enough if the delight of the onlookers was anything to go by.

When finally the photo-takers were satisfied and moved on to taking photos of someone else—a dragon painted to look like a marble statue had arrived—Annaiette followed Haurchefant as best she could to their waiting friends.

“Haurchefant, you look incredible,” Annaiette heard Aymeric say. “And Annaiette is in the shark, I presume?”

She adjusted the shark head to better peer out of the view window of its mouth and found Aymeric peering right back, with Estinien and Varshahn, a tall Au Ra from Radz-at-Han that Annaiette met a handful of times, at his side. Varshahn had a dragonet perched around his neck, who seemed to be taking in the pre-race festivities with great interest.

“Morning! It’s me!” Annaiette said brightly, waving a fin.

“Did you make your costume, Annaiette?” Varshahn asked curiously.

“Oh no, I just bought it on the internet,” she laughed. “I saw it and couldn’t help myself.”

“I must admit that the event is far more chaotic than the website suggested,” said Varshahn. “The creativity of these people is impressive.”

“Just wait until we actually start,” Estinien said with a small smile and a gruff laugh. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”

“Speaking of which!” Haurchefant interjected as the unintelligible sounds of an MC filled the air. “I believe we might be nearing our start!”

The crowd in their staging area was definitely reacting to whatever the MC was saying, but the way the sound from the speakers echoed off the buildings around them made it impossible to make any words out from their position. The crowd eventually let out a cheer and starting moving forward, which meant that they had been freed from the staging area and were on their way to the starting line.

People—humans and dragons alike—lined the sidewalks and buildings around the starting line, cheering as their group arrived. A huge banner bearing the words “WELCOME TO THE DRAGONSONG RUN” hung over the starting line, and an MC on a scissor lift looked down at them with a wide grin.

“Look at what we have here!” the Roegadyn MC yelled into her mic. “Handsomest group of Dragonsong runners so far! Don’t tell the other groups, but you’re my favorite!”

Raucous cheering and whooping filled the air, and several of the dragons roared and flapped their wings as best they could without hitting their neighbors.

“I know all of you are just raring to go! Look at that kid, he’s ready to win the whole race!”

An almost levin energy filled the crowd as they cheered in response, and the MC laughed appreciatively.

“All right, all right! I won’t hold you beautiful people up any longer!” She raised a race starter pistol. “ARE YOU READY?”

Thunderous cheering filled the air.

“THEN LET’S—GET—STARTED!”

The BANG of the starter pistol rent the air, and with that the group was off.

Annaiette and friends had agreed prior to the race that they would make a cursory attempt at jogging together, with the understanding that the more athletically inclined of them might go on ahead. Annaiette initially had no intention of leaving them, but the energy of the crowd was contagious and she felt as though she could run ten malms right this moment. It became clear that Haurchefant was of the same mind—he bounded forward in bursts to pose for excited bystanders or cheer for participants.

“My friends, don’t hold yourselves back on our account,” Aymeric finally said with a wry smile. “Go on, run as you please.”

“But—” Annaiette began, but Estinien immediately put a hand up to interrupt her.

“Just go,” he said, smirking. “You obviously want to.”

“You heard them, Annaiette!” Haurchefant said, patting her shoulder. “Shall we?”

Aymeric and Varshahn both gave her an encouraging, expectant nod, and with that, she saluted them and turned to Haurchefant.

“Let’s go, then!”

✨ Four Hours Earlier ✨

Solus glared out the window of the hotel lounge at the dark, early morning sky, before looking down at his bowl of porridge and halfheartedly pushing it around with a spoon.

“Not hungry, my friend?”

Hythlodaeus appeared with two mugs of coffee, placing one beside his bowl of porridge before taking a seat across from Solus, where a warm breakfast scramble sat waiting. Solus let out a sigh of irritation and took a sip of coffee without replying, to which his friend simply chuckled.

“This event has been on your calendar all year,” Hythlodaeus said lightly as he unrolled the cloth napkin wrapped about the silverware. “You might have remembered if you weren’t busy sulking the past fortnight.”

Solus scowled at his porridge. Hythlodaeus’ friendly tone belied his annoyance with Solus, and worse still was that Hythlodaeus was absolutely right: this event had been on his calendar all year, because it was his year to appear at charity events on AnyderSoft’s behalf. And so Solus was sent to participate at the annual Dragonsong Run in Ishgard, which AnyderSoft didn’t always sponsor but did this year, and Moogle had donated a ridiculous amount of money to ensure that he looked appropriately silly during it.

Giving back in some fashion was something Elidibus was quite passionate about, and so all the AnyderSoft founders agreed that they would take it in turns to appear at events to raise money for charity. They eventually formed a friendly “rivalry” with Moogle, where AnyderSoft and Moogle would donate money to make the other look silly for one event per company per year—the rivalry was actually an unofficial agreement between them, and they both played the false rivalry up for the social media PR boost.

They were up bells before dawn because Solus’ costume was part face paint and required a decent chunk of time to do. He’d tried to veto the proposed Hydaelyn costume and demand he wear a costume that hid his face, but his veto was vetoed by Elidibus because part of the draw of the charity appearance was to see him and his face specifically. Hythlodaeus had then suggested face paint if he wished to feel more like his face was being obscured—which he did—and he hadn’t paid much more attention to the costume logistics than that because he’d been busy with work.

Hythlodaeus called it “sulking,” but Solus was merely focusing on work and blocking out all distractions.

He didn’t have time to be agonizing over one night spent at a certain Elezen’s apartment, nor the way she’d taken him home on her motorbike, nor the fact that she had Nero’s motorbike gear in her closet. There were too many emails to answer and meetings to attend and people to keep from making foolish decisions to think about how this Elezen had managed to inexplicably work her way into his life, and how he couldn’t help but get drawn into her sphere of tomfoolery, and how he couldn’t let himself get too attached because the likely outcome was that she and Nero were whatever they were and he would be left behind without warning once she realized how unpleasant he truly was, just like that person from a lifetime ago—

Solus coughed to loosen his chest before spooning porridge into his mouth to distract from the feeling.

“You don’t want to eat something more substantial?” Hythlodaeus asked. The matter-of-fact politeness was gone from his voice, now replaced with genuine concern.

“Hmph. I’ll bring a bar for later.” He forced another spoonful of porridge down. “It’s not as if I’m meant to actually run the course.”

“You should eat an actual meal regardless, my friend.”

“This porridge is perfectly adequate.”

He could hardly stomach it, but it would be enough.

They ate in relative silence for a little while longer, Hythlodaeus scrolling through social media and Solus trying and failing to read AnyderSoft’s latest analyst reports on current cloud infrastructure market trends in an attempt to distract himself from his grumpy stomach.

“What time was the intern coming?” Solus asked when he noted the time.

“I told him to come to your room at half six,” Hythlodaeus said, looking up from a fresh fruit cup that had appeared without Solus’ notice.

“And why did we decide for an intern to come to paint my face?” Solus asked. “We are a tech company last I checked, and I am unaware of special effects makeup interns under our employ.”

“We put out a call for volunteers with any costuming or body paint experience,” Hythlodaeus explained, with the predictable and ever-present mischief on his face. “This event is all about people making amateur costumes for the pure fun of it, and it wouldn’t do to have you perfectly styled by a professional.” He paused, his eyes crinkling just a bit. “And we thought a work-funded trip to Ishgard would be fun for the boy. He works quite hard, you know.”

Solus let out a sigh.

“I’m going to order food for him, and then we ought to get ready,” said Hythlodaeus. “Are you certain you don’t want anything more to eat?”

“I’m certain.”

Hythlodaeus gave him a reproachful look before getting up to make an order with the lounge host.

When the omelette for the intern was ready and packed into a takeout container—along with three additional fruit cups that Hythlodaeus shamelessly brought with him—the pair made their way back to Solus’ room. Hythlodaeus was already as ready as he needed to be and had brought the duffel with Solus’ costume down to breakfast, but Solus still had to shower and scrub his face well to ensure proper paint adhesion.

When he finished with his shower, he heard muffled voices outside the bathroom. Either the intern arrived early or he’d taken longer than intended to shower, but either way he was very naked in here when his clothing was out there with Hythlodaeus and the intern that Hythlodaeus definitely shouldn’t have allowed in. But to his immense relief, he quickly spotted his suitcase in the dressing room attached to the bathroom—Hythlodaeus must have moved it there earlier—as well as a strange half-purple-half-white tracksuit hanging invitingly from a hanger hooked on the bathroom doorknob. He regarded it with disdain, but there was nothing he could do about it now, so he quickly dried his hair and reluctantly dressed himself in the odd tracksuit before emerging from the bathroom.

“And I’ve been working on a new cos—oh!”

The young Garlean man sitting on the sofa with Hythlodaeus locked eyes with him and nearly dropped his fork.

Solus gave Hythlodaeus a questioning look—it was obvious that nobody had informed the poor boy that he was to paint Solus Galvus—but Hythlodaeus merely smiled his cheeky, self-satisfied smile.

“Ah, Solus,” Hythlodaeus—that arse—said cheerfully. “This is Jullus! He very kindly agreed to help us for the event.”

Jullus leapt up from the sofa as though electrified, nearly sending his omelette flying when he hastily set it down on the coffee table, and his face quickly turned several shades of pink whilst he held either his breath or vomit or both back.

“A pleasure, Jullus,” Solus said, extending a hand for a handshake.

To the boy’s credit, he cleared his throat and quickly composed himself.

“Likewise, sir,” said Jullus, his tone impressively professional for how flustered he’d been but moments ago. His handshake was firm, but to Solus’ amusement, he noted a slight tremble in Jullus’ arm before he let go.

“So you’re the poor soul come to paint my face,” Solus said wryly, smirking as he made a show of looking Jullus up and down. “Tell me, what monster am I to become? Are you to reveal my true form?”

Jullus shifted anxiously under Solus’ gaze and was clearly unsure whether he was expected to laugh or not; he chose to split the difference and smiled while commendably remaining cool and collected. “Not a monster at all, sir,” he said calmly, though there was a tiny quaver in his voice. He picked up a printout of some sort from the coffee table and held it up. “This is the reference I was given.”

Solus took one look at the image and had to tamp down the urge to immediately and very loudly berate Hythlodaeus for the absurdity that was to be foisted upon him. He was to be painted white and purple straight down the middle in order to be half Hydaelyn and half Zodiark, which was especially galling after he had explicitly refused the initial Hydaelyn pitch.

“Hythlodaeus,” Solus said with as level a voice as he could, “it was my understanding that we weren’t doing the Hydaelyn costume.”

Hythlodaeus laughed the light, tittering laugh that meant he had committed this particular mischief with absolute, targeted purpose.

More targeted than usual.

Perhaps out of frustration with him.

“This isn’t Hydaelyn, my friend, but Hydaeark,” Hythlodaeus explained, as though “Hydaeark” was somehow more acceptable. “We all agreed it would be more entertaining for the crowd. And you won’t need to wear the white bodysuit besides!”

Solus allowed himself a moment to glare furiously at Hythlodaeus before forcing his face to relax insofar as his face could relax. He turned back to Jullus and found him bewildered and looking as though he was deeply considering ducking behind the sofa to hide.

“Well then, how shall we begin?” Solus said with a theatrical lilt in both voice and body as he spread his arms wide. “As you are the means of my transformation, Jullus, what would you have me do?”

“Wait a moment,” Hythlodaeus said, holding up a hand. “Let him finish eating, Solus.”

“I’d—I’d like to get started now, if that’s all right!” Jullus interjected somewhat shakily with what Solus knew was the anxiety of contradicting his superiors. “These things always take longer than expected and I—I want to be sure you’re ready in time, sir.” He went to the work desk in the room and spun the chair to face Solus. “Please sit here while I get my things.”

Solus took a seat as Jullus pulled little bottles out of a tote bag, and as more of them came out he visibly nodded in approval—he specifically made sure to make the nod visible, because Jullus was very acutely aware of Solus’ gaze and Solus was quite amused by how the boy’s face turned pink. The nod of approval was not merely for show, though; Solus had learned enough about cosmetics over the years to know that whoever chose Jullus chose well.

Whilst Jullus unpacked, Hythlodaeus briefly disappeared to rummage in his duffel bag, and when he returned he held a small black mesh out to Solus.

“Put this wig cap on ere you begin. You’re going to need it,” Hythlodaeus said with a smile.

Solus shot Hythlodaeus a glare but nonetheless pulled the wig cap on. He could only imagine what nonsense the wig for his costume was going to be; most modern-day depictions of Hydaelyn and Zodiark involved big hair and big horns, and there was no way Hythlodaeus was going to let him get away without having both…

It appeared the sight of him with his hair confined to the cap was enough to elicit a grin from his impish friend and a quickly stifled laugh from Jullus.

“Erm—I need to spray you with this first, sir. If—that’s all right,” Jullus said once he’d regained his composure, holding up a small bottle of barrier spray.

“There is no need to ask my permission at each step or we shall be here until midmorning,” said Solus, the corner of his mouth twitching upward in amusement. “Do as you must, and tell me if there is aught I should do.”

He could see the wheels turning in Jullus’ head, and after a long moment, comprehension finally sank in. “Very well, sir. In that case, I—I must ask that you unzip your collar.” He shifted anxiously on his feet, but he remained emboldened. “I’ll need to paint your neck as well, so that you don’t look strange.”

“Oh, Hythlodaeus has all but guaranteed my strangeness, don’t you worry,” Solus replied wryly as he unzipped the tracksuit collar and pulled it open to expose his neck.

Jullus’ face turned faintly pink once more, but he dutifully soldiered on. “If you’re ready, sir, let’s get started.”

The boy was no professional, but it was obvious he had some amount of hobbyist experience with makeup and body paint. He had the right products for priming and sealing and applied them in the right order, and some of the products looked as though they’d been used at least once. Jullus began with eyeliner after spraying him with the barrier spray, and Solus noticed with amusement that Jullus’ hands trembled just slightly from the proximity to Solus’ face, the boy’s eyes intermittently and nervously darting to his as he worked. The eyeliner actually came out decently given his nervousness, which Solus found impressive. The success of the eyeliner emboldened Jullus further, and he applied the body paint with more and more confidence as time went on. He even reached the point where he was able to ask Hythlodaeus without hemming and hawing to stand and blow dry Solus’ face with the hair dryer.

Finally, with a half bell to the time scheduled for them to leave for the starting line, Jullus stepped away with a small sigh of exhaustion and relief.

“I think…I think I’m finished,” he said. “I hope you—I hope it’s acceptable, sir.”

Solus turned to look at the mirror on the wall and found the ridiculous “Hydaeark” staring back at him. The reproduction of the artist’s reference was predictably amateurish, but the lines were crisp and clean—a testament to Jullus’ skill.

“Well done,” Solus said, nodding to Jullus with approval. “I daresay you may add ‘painting Solus Galvus to artist spec’ to your CV with pride.” He smirked in satisfaction when Jullus’ face was tinged pink once more.

“It was my pleasure, sir,” Jullus said with a valiant but ultimately futile effort at appearing unflustered by Solus’ praise.

“You’re not quite finished yet, my friend,” Hythlodaeus said, his voice in light singsong as he disappeared to fetch something from the costume duffel.

The fact that Solus had seen the artist rendition of “Hydaeark” did nothing to prepare him for the veritable headdress that Hythlodaeus presented him. It looked like two wigs spliced together—one a pure white and the other a sort of dark, smoky purple—with the purple side sporting a pair of purple foam horns that seemed almost deliberately shoddy in their construction.

“Solus, you sit,” said Hythlodaeus before turning to Jullus. “Might I ask for your assistance with this?”

Between the two of them, the ridiculous wig was quickly affixed to Solus’ head with spirit gum, a thick layer of some kind of tacky spray, and what felt like a score of hair pins. Solus was fully prepared to complain that the wig was far too precarious and would surely fall off during the event, but once they were finished, the wig hardly moved at all.

And with the wig firmly in place, Solus’ ludicrous transformation was complete.

“You look wonderful,” Hythlodaeus said, beaming. “Truly a costume worthy of Moogle’s unprecedented charitable donation for this year. I’m uncertain that Themis or Hephaistos would fare half as well.”

“And once again it falls to me to bear the weight of AnyderSoft upon my shoulders,” Solus replied with dramatic solemnity, and by now Jullus was comfortable enough to allow himself a small laugh.

“You bear the weight well,” said Hythlodaeus, nodding. He glanced at his phone. “Ah. It’s just about time for us to make our way there.” He turned to Jullus and held a hand aloft for a high five. “Well done, Jullus.”

Jullus looked bewildered by the proffered high five—he stared at it for a moment as though unsure what to do before he slowly brought a hand up in turn. Hythlodaeus met him halfway and clapped his hand to Jullus’, and Solus couldn’t help but hold a high five hand up to further fluster the boy.

As time was slowly ticking past “on time” to “late,” after a quick photo together on Hythlodaeus’ insistence, Jullus hastily packed up his supplies and was sent on his way with the omelette he hadn't finished and several quick recommendations from both Hythlodaeus and Solus on things to see, do, and eat around the arts district of Ishgard, as well as firm advice to spend all of the per diem allotted to him by AnyderSoft (“The finance department isn’t going to praise you for saving money, so go eat something nice,” Hythlodaeus stressed).

The hotel was in walking distance of the event start—it would have been hell to take a car in so they specifically booked that one—and soon they were well on their way to check in for the charity group at the Dragonsong Run’s event coordinators’ tent. Solus turned heads as he and Hythlodaeus walked, but he found some measure of relief in the fact that none of the passersby recognized him as Solus Galvus and seemed to be cheering about his costume. And upon arrival at the coordinators’ tent, not even the event staff realized it was him until Hythlodaeus introduced him as such.

He didn’t have long to enjoy this temporary anonymity, though: where their awareness began was also where his PR mask must needs begin. Eyes—and cameras—were on him now, and he had to be AnyderSoft’s charming Solus Galvus lest he give Elidibus cause to give him yet another lecture about maintaining outward friendliness with the public.

He suffered the photos and the small talk with the event coordinators and the volunteers assisting them, and suffered the photos and the small talk with the other people participating in the charity group, and even held his tongue when one of the event volunteers started telling him about an app he was “working on” (Solus did not ask if any actual work had been done, which he thought was commendable). He had a moment of blessed relief when a presumable Velodyna rep wearing a giant Velodyna cardboard box arrived—the app man immediately sensed further shmoozing potential and trundled away to do so. The relief was short-lived, though, and Solus’ patience was quickly tried further when he was accosted by a man with a misplaced sense of confidence trying to extol the qualities of his startup.

”Anyway, Natron has been growing quite fast, you know how it is, I’m sure. Enough that we donated almost 50k gil, probably one of the highest donations here,” the self-absorbed Hyur said as Solus tried desperately to summon Hythlodaeus with his mind, lest he say something Elidibus would regret and reveal that Moogle had donated nearly a million gil specifically because they wanted Solus to look a fool. “And listen, from one entrepreneur to another, I know you’ll understand me when I—”

”Solus, there you are! This is Dandanra Danra,” came Hythlodaeus’ voice, and he suddenly appeared between Solus and the Natron man with a race bib in hand and a Lalafell on his heels. “She helped us organize the watershed cleanup event last year, and I thought it would be lovely for you two to meet!”

”Best of luck to Matron,” Solus said, nodding to the man before turning to Dandanra Danra. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Danra. I presume you work at the Bureau of Environmental Affairs?”

“I do. It is a pleasure, Mr. Galvus.”

The Natron man looked very much like he wanted to get one final word in, but with practiced ease, Hythlodaeus deftly preempted him by gently turning Solus toward him and making a show of fussing with Solus’ jacket and the pins for the race bib. To Solus’ enormous relief, Hythlodaeus’ efforts were the perfect deterrent and the Natron man slinked away once he realized all attention had been thoroughly diverted from him to Hythlodaeus and Dandanra Danra. She was an older, bespectacled woman wearing a bright red Namazu festival happi, long gray whiskers affixed to her cheeks, and a huge bell to match. And after a few minutes of small talk about the Bureau and current wildlife conservation projects, Solus caught a subtle glint of mischief in her eyes as she peered at him over the rim of her glasses.

”That buffoon gone yet?” she asked, her voice low.

”He’s bothering that Velodyna VP now,” Hythlodaeus replied quietly before taking a sip from a water bottle.

The three of them took a moment to relish the beautiful moment where the Velodyna VP, who was far, far less restrained than Solus, flatly told Natron man that she was not interested before shuffling away in her giant box to talk to a dragon wearing a monocle and a gentleman inspector coatee impressively tailored to fit their dragon self.

“I thank you for your timely intervention,” said Solus, nodding to Hythlodaeus and Dandanra.

“Think nothing of it,” Dandanra said, brushing his words off with a wave. “You looked just on the cusp of ending the man, and Hythlodaeus here thought we ought to save him from you.”

They spent the next few minutes blessedly sycophant-free whilst the remainder of the charity group participants finished checking in, with Dandanra telling them (or rather, Hythlodaeus) about some of the more outlandish costumes she saw on her way to the event. There wasn’t much more time before the start of the charity group, though, and soon the event coordinators were calling for the participants to begin making their way to the starting line.

“Share your location with me so I can keep track of you,” said Hythlodaeus, giving him a smile and an encouraging nod before taking his leave for the sidelines. Solus quickly did so and pocketed his phone as event coordinators began more firmly ushering the participants forward to the starting line.

”Let’s all give it up for this years’ charity runners, helping us do a little good in the world! Don’t forget to vote for your favorites! Each runner present in the vote is committed to an additional donation for every vote they receive!” the MC’s voice boomed from the speakers flanking the starting line, which was adorned with a huge “WELCOME TO THE DRAGONSONG RUN” banner. Event volunteers were organizing the participants along the starting line, and as a volunteer gently pushed him into place at one end of the lineup, Solus made the sinking realization that they were likely being lined up so the MC could introduce each one of them individually, and that Solus was either at the end of the line or the beginning of it…

“Let me introduce these fine friends of ours!” The MC gestured toward the person on the other end of the line from Solus. “First, give it up for the Velodyna delivery that just turned up, Haru Kaneuchi! Who here has five or more Velodyna packages that still need recycling?”

The crowd simultaneously cheered and groaned as Haru bobbed her giant package costume up and down.

The MC continued in this manner down the line, which the coordinators had purposefully arranged to distribute high profile participants evenly amongst the rest. In the middle of the line was the dragon in the gentleman inspector costume who turned out to be Sooh Lahr of middling Dravanian blitzball fame, which nonetheless elicited a roar of excitement from the dragons (and shrill screeching from the dragonets) in the sidelines.

And finally, it was time for Solus’ introduction.

“And last, but certainly not least, we have the man we can thank for making computers so easy that we shop far too much on Velodyna, the legend himself: Solus Galvus!”

The crowd exploded into cheering and screaming—Solus knew well that he wasn’t that exciting, but rather proximity to him was—and he waved to the crowd before flourishing an arm and dipping into a dramatic, exaggerated bow. The crowd swelled in response, the air filling with another wave of cheering and hooting.

“Now I’m sure you’re all tired of me talking and them not running! It’s time for them to go fend for themselves in the wild world out there, so let’s send them off with a bang!” The crowd booed the MC as she snickered and raised the starting pistol. “LET’S SEND THEM OFF IN THREE—TWO—ONE—!”

BANG!

And amidst the cheering and screaming of the crowd, the charity group was off.

Solus jogged forward with one arm waving at the cheering spectators, who waved their arms into the roadway as the charity runners approached. Sooh Lahr bounded forward to meet their outstretched hands—and various dragon limbs—with a wingtip as he passed and the other participants quickly followed the sporty dragon’s example, Solus included; he needed only to hold out an arm as he jogged along the edge of the roadway and the bystanders eagerly made the effort to meet his hand whilst cheering and whooping.

And when the designated spectator area flanking the first hundred yalms of the course tapered off, Solus pulled away from the side of the road—but not before giving one last high five to a little Hrothgar child hopping up and down and furiously waving their arm at him.

The plan Solus had agreed to was to reach the first water station two malms in and then cite the costume’s warmth as the reason for his early exit. The costume, however, wasn’t all that warm, nor was the face paint; he’d expected the paint and wig to immediately heat him up as he jogged, but the quality of both were likely the reason he wasn’t immediately sweating buckets.

The jog to the first water station was slow going, as Hythlodaeus had firmly reminded him not to run too fast and to wave nicely at spectators and runners who waved at him. He was stopped every so often by spectators or participants asking to take a photo either of him or with him; fortunately for him, few of these people realized he was Solus Galvus underneath the face paint and wig and instead gushed about how funny his costume was before continuing on their way.

People from the group after the charity runners began passing him by about a malm in, the first of which was a dragon clanking down the course in full Heavens’ Ward armor with a little dragonet wearing a tiny bishop’s mitre clinging to its back. Bipedal runners soon followed, and Solus watched with amusement as a blue-painted person with a spiraling wig and billowing cape ran past, with someone in an inflatable shark costume bouncing along after them.

The crowd of spectators began thickening as he neared the first water station: this part of the course ran alongside a park, where a handful of food trucks were parked along the sidewalk and some vendors’ tents set up in the park proper. Big speakers set up near the vendors blared music that Solus couldn’t properly hear over the noise of the energetic crowd. Hythlodaeus was sure to be in the thick of it, likely sampling whatever foods and drinks were on offer.

Finally the water station was in sight, and it seemed that many of the costumed runners were using the water station as a chance to take photos with each other and with spectators. The blue person that had passed Solus earlier was posing for an enamored crowd, with their shark companion waving their fins beside them. Solus took the opportunity to stop and take a photo of them himself, mostly to show the shark to Hythlodaeus just in case his friend somehow managed to miss it. This momentary pause, though, was enough for people to catch notice of him, and to his horror, the blue-painted person pointed at him and bounded to his side.

“A comrade in body paint! Fantastic!” the blue Elezen said, flashing him a grin, and now that Solus could see him clearly, he thought the Elezen might be some rendition of Saint Shiva. “May I have the honor of a photo, my half Lord Lady Zodiarkaelyn?”

“Of course,” said Solus, though the Elezen was already passing his phone to a helpful onlooker before Solus even opened his mouth to reply. The blue Elezen’s shark companion trundled to his opposite side and flailed its fins in his direction until the onlooker lowered the phone.

The blue Elezen thanked him for the photo before guiding his shark friend toward the tables with swathes of little water cups waiting for runners. Solus followed, plucking a cup from the table and sipping it slowly as he scanned the crowd in the park for signs of Hythlodaeus. It didn’t take long to find his friend; he quickly found Hythlodaeus’ telltale lavender hair weaving through the crowd toward him, and Hythlodaeus eventually emerged from the crowd holding a cob of Turali street corn in each hand, cheerily waving one in the air when he caught sight of Solus.

Solus brought his water cup to his mouth and made a noise of dismay when he was rudely and abruptly bumped in the back, which sent the rest of his water flying.

“Sorry, sorry! I’m so sorry! I can’t see—!”

He wheeled around to glare at the source of the voice and found the blue Elezen’s shark companion struggling to pull their head out of the costume.

An Elezen emerged from a slit in the back of the shark head.

Solus’ body responded well before his brain registered aught: his heart leapt into his throat as his skin burned an unseen crimson underneath the paint and tracksuit—

He stared speechlessly as a sweaty Annaiette Verdeleaux stood smiling before him.

“I’m very sorry, it’s hard to see in this,” she repeated apologetically.

A fortnight now that he hadn’t spoken to her.

A fortnight now spent trying to detach himself from the thought of her.

And now after a fortnight, inexplicably, impossibly she was standing there before him in Ishgard, clad in this ridiculous inflatable shark costume.

“Annaiette?” Solus finally managed to say.

She seemed surprised to hear her name and squinted, studying his face for a few fraught moments—

“Solus?!” she said in shock, her eyes widening. “What are you doing here?”

“Running, obviously,” he replied without thinking. And though it felt as if his breath was caught in his chest, he managed a wry laugh and a small half-smirk. “And what are you doing here?”

A flash of bewilderment crossed her face but quickly faded as she let out her loud, effusive laugh.

“Acting as Saint Shiva’s personal bodyguard, of course,” she laughed. “It is a little known fact that Saint Shiva had sharks as her protectors.”

“My friend speaks true!” said the blue Elezen, nodding so vigorously that his wig comically flopped forward and back. His eyes darted from Solus to Annaiette and back, and his grin widened before he opened his mouth to speak again. “Would you like to join us for the race? I daresay a pair of half gods would make wonderful company for a saint and her shark!”

“Oh! Erm—I don’t—surely Solus would prefer to not have a shark bothering him—!” Annaiette sputtered, nervously laughing and waving her fins about. Eventually her fins calmed and her face settled into an earnest smile. “But if you want to, it will be fun! I shall endeavor to keep both halves of you perfectly safe!”

Solus wasn’t meant to finish the race—Hythlodaeus was already waiting with corn, even—but the eagerness and utter sincerity emanating from the blue Elezen and Annaiette both were inexplicably contagious that the thought of perhaps continuing on didn’t seem like it would be entirely awful.

He wanted to get out of this ridiculous costume, though—

—but Hythlodaeus had quite obviously seen Annaiette if his gleeful expression was any indication and he would be absolutely unbearable if Solus left the race now—

—perhaps he could delay his friend’s pestering and dodge the messy street corn that was sure to be thrust upon him—

“I suppose a shark might serve as useful company,” said Solus finally.

Annaiette beamed.

Solus somehow felt it in his chest.

“Great! This shark won’t let you down!”

She downed two water cups with impressive speed and pulled the shark costume back over her head. Solus glanced back at Hythlodaeus as she fiddled with the closures to seal herself back in—his friend grinned and mouthed “call me later” before turning and disappearing back into the crowd with his two street corns. And when Solus turned back, a fully-sharked Annaiette stood before him, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

“If you’re ready, let’s go!” she said brightly, her voice slightly muffled by the costume.

The blue Elezen and Annaiette set off at a slow jog that made Solus wonder if it was for his benefit, but when the blue Elezen turned to him with a smile, Solus realized it was for conversation purposes.

“I’m Haurchefant, by the way!” said the blue Elezen. “So, my new friend, I might have seen your name up for voting in the charity contest!”

This friend of Annaiette’s reminded him very much of Hythlodaeus: something about him triggered the selfsame wariness for potential mischief.

“‘Contest’ is generous,” Solus said, to which Haurchefant let out a hearty laugh. “There is no winner, except perhaps the charities that receive our donations.”

“Oh, are you here for AnyderSoft?” Annaiette asked, her voice only just audible over the sounds of people and the rustling of her costume.

“I am certainly not here of my own volition,” he replied with a small snort of amusement. “And you? Do you regularly run this race?”

“I’ve run it a few times, but I wouldn’t say I’m a regular. I’m here this year because Haurchefant asked for my help!”

Solus glanced toward Haurchefant, eyebrows raised.

“My dear friend very graciously agreed to help paint me for the race,” said Haurchefant, holding up his blue arms as though his paintedness wasn’t already patently obvious. “I’m fortunate to know a soul as kind as Annaiette!”

“Haurchefant is just laying it on thick,” Annaiette said reproachfully, waggling a fin at her friend. “It really was naught, it’s not as though I saved the star.”

“A modest hero, as always,” Solus said with a small shake of his head.

“Truly so!” Haurchefant jogged a bit ahead and without missing a step, he spun to face them as he jogged backwards. “Don’t you just love her, Solus?”

“Of c—pardon?” Solus was so caught up with jogging and watching this blue man run backwards that he wasn’t sure his brain parsed Haurchefant’s words correctly.

Annaiette made an odd, strangled noise and lunged forward, fins flailing wildly. “D-don’t just say things like that! Who knows who will hear and make a thing of it on Kwehtr, he doesn’t need that!”

“Apologies, my friend,” Haurchefant said soothingly. He deftly spun back around mid-stride and immediately made a noise of delight when he saw a runner in an inflatable chocobo suit. “Ah! Let’s take a picture with that chocobo!”

Haurchefant was gone in a flash, leaving Solus unexpectedly rattled by the interaction. The Kwehtr Incident had admittedly been long relegated to the dark corner of his mind set aside for occurrences of a mildly annoying nature, but to hear her speak of it brought the entire situation squarely to the forefront—and with it came the sinking realization that he never did apologize to her for his part in turning the horrible eye of Kwehtr upon her.

Annaiette turned toward Solus—or tried, restricted as she was in the costume. “Sorry,” she said, that single downcast word of apology tweaking something in Solus’ chest even as they jogged. She turned away to watch her friend greet the person in the chocobo costume. “Sometimes he just says things…I hope it doesn’t cause another situation for you.”

That she was so fixed on preventing trouble for him after all that had transpired for her…

Before he could gather his thoughts, she beckoned to him with a fin. ”Come on! Haurchefant’s waiting for us!” Annaiette laughed, the bright cheer returned to her voice as though it had never left.

There was something about the sight of Haurchefant and Annaiette waiting patiently for him to catch up and celebrating with the chocobo person once he did; interactions such as these were few and far between in Solus’ life due to the nature of his status as the Solus Galvus, and it felt almost surreal to be treated so casually and without his titles in the way. He felt some measure of mild annoyance, though, as he was nudged this way and that by Haurchefant—the man was quite insistent that Solus be included in all the photos with himself and Annaiette, and he didn’t seem to tire of it even after another two malms down the race course.

Jogging these four malms in Ishgard—painted and with the heavy wig atop his head—was more physical activity than he’d had in the entire year past, and with each step forward he felt a sliver of his wherewithal go with it. His legs had begun protesting at the four malm marker, and now, as the monstrous hill that led up to the finish line in the Last Vigil loomed large before them, he felt his legs and lungs recoil in horror at the prospect of climbing to the top. Annaiette and Haurchefant, however, looked none the worse for wear—somehow they both bounded hither and thither to greet people and take photos, and Solus felt a creeping shame over the way his old and creaky body was beginning to struggle. Many race participants had slowed to a walk by now, and Solus would have joined them in doing so if not for the strange, compelling magnetism of Annaiette and her friend.

Frustration borne of weariness had slowly filled him over the last malm—he wasn’t even supposed to be this far into the course—he should have been back at the hotel by now, cleaning this ridiculous paint off and preparing for a long nap—but no, instead he senselessly decided to follow this inexplicable Elezen in the ridiculous shark costume—

Solus glanced up and was only just able to stop himself from starting in surprise when he found said inexplicable Elezen watching him through the little window in the shark’s mouth.

“Let’s take a break!” she said, gesturing toward the sidewalk.

It was patently obvious that the break was for his benefit, but she said nothing more and simply bounced to the sidewalk. He followed, mortified but grateful in equal measure. Still, he really ought to take his leave here and just make his way back to the hotel while his legs still worked, and leave the running to Annaiette and her far more capable friend…

She pulled her head out of the shark costume and breathed a sigh of relief as she wiped the sweat from her eyes. “How are you holding up, my Lord Lady Zodaelyn?”

Despite his frustration, he found himself quipping in response. “I fear we gods cannot suffer the mortal world for any longer, and must needs return to the hotel.”

A flash of some sort of emotion crossed her face for a moment, but her ever present smile quickly replaced it.

“If the gods must return, then this humble shark shan’t question it.” She turned to glance up the hill for a long moment—he couldn’t see her face but she seemed to be embroiled in thought—before she turned back to him. “You might find better luck getting a ride near the Last Vigil, and we’re just about there. Have the gods ever been to the Last Vigil?”

“If you haven’t seen it, the view from the Last Vigil is unparalleled!” came Haurchefant’s voice as he returned from wherever he had disappeared to. “And Annaiette speaks true—the road closures for the race will make the Last Vigil your best option for hailing a ride.”

Solus let out a small huff; his frustration was now tempered by the unavoidable fact that he really did have to climb this hill if he wished to leave this race…

He felt the brief brush of fingers on his arm and a gentle tug on his sleeve.

“It’s not far now, my Lord,” she said brightly as she started toward the hill. When Solus took a small step forward, she released his sleeve and moved to walk beside him. “This shark shall walk at your side, and we shall find the end together!”

Haurchefant let out a hearty laugh and moved to Solus’ other side. “Together, friends!”

It was obvious that this monstrous hill leading up to the Last Vigil was intended to be a final challenge of sorts: the sidewalks on either side of the hill were thick with people shouting encouragement to the runners as they flung celebratory flatbread into the air, dragonets screeching and trilling as they fluttered excitedly between the tall race banners planted in a neat row the entire length of the hill. The hill felt as monstrous as it looked, and Solus found himself laboring to breathe as he made his way up. Annaiette and Haurchefant, despite the earlier ease with which they ran to and fro, seemed to finally find their match with this hill as well—their breaths came just as heavily as Solus’ did, though somehow Haurchefant still managed to breathlessly chatter about something or other.

Some thirty fulms from the top, Solus felt a deep fear that his legs would soon give, and it was only the deeper fear that he would so publicly make a fool of himself that kept him doggedly putting one foot in front of the other.

“Almost there!” Annaiette said suddenly, giving Solus a sidelong glance and a wide grin. ”I promise the view is worth it, it’s my favorite place in Ishgard!”

“I shall hold you to account if the view is, in fact, not worth it,” Solus replied with as much a chuckle as he could muster, and he received a breathy laugh in return.

And with deep breaths of relief shared amongst the three of them, they finally reached the top of the hill.

Annaiette required but a moment of rest—just as Solus began catching his breath, she had run off the road and into the grassy area just along the veritable cliff that served as the edge of the Last Vigil. She stopped at the railing to look out over presumably all of Ishgard, her shark costume fluttering in the breeze.

Haurchefant waited patiently at Solus’ side as he recovered from the climb, affording him a moment of rest before beckoning Solus forward. He would have liked more rest, but he begrudgingly followed; he had run all this way, so he may as well look…

Without a cloud in the sky or fog down below, all of Ishgard could be seen sprawling out below them. The Steps of Faith stretching from the city to the Central Highlands looked perfectly picturesque, as though it could have been lifted straight from a postcard.

And with this picture-perfect Coerthas as her backdrop, Annaiette turned—she crinkled her eyes and grinned as her hair fluttered into her face and in that moment the sunlight seemed to shine all the brighter on her skin—

“Is the view not breathtaking, my friend?” he heard Haurchefant say through the thumping of his heartbeat in his ears.

Solus didn’t speak.

But in that silence, he agreed.

Chapter Text

“You’ll find the view is all the better if you aren’t standing twenty fulms away.”

Solus started when he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder and turned to find Haurchefant at his side; he bristled at the sight of the man’s eyes and smile and most of all, the utterly presumptuous knowing in his eyes.

“Come, friend,” said Haurchefant, nudging him gently on the back of his arm toward the waiting Annaiette.

Solus huffed to himself and resisted the urge to shoot him a glare, though he started moving all the same.

“So, what do you think?” Annaiette asked once he drew near, her smile wide. “Worth it? How many stars would you rate it?”

He stood beside her at the railing, casting his eyes across the view of Ishgard and Coerthas as he crossed his arms and made a show of pondering his answer. 

“As we had to suffer that monstrosity of a hill, I’m afraid I can only give it four stars.” He paused briefly for dramatic effect whilst casting his gaze out toward the horizon, before giving her a wry, sidelong glance. “Though I suppose the assistance of a shark guide might merit an additional star.”

Annaiette let out a bark of laughter, and Solus found the corners of his mouth twitching upward. She clapped her fins together thrice before planting them firmly at her hips and proudly puffing out her chest. “I'm pleased that the all-new shark guide service left such an impression on What’s His Face himself!”

At this, a tiny chuckle managed to sneak its way out of Solus’ mouth. Annaiette’s grin widened and soon her own effusive laughter brought on by his little chuckle drew more and more out of him, until finally the pair of them were chuckling together like imbeciles for far longer than reasonable people ought to. He was faintly aware of Haurchefant talking on the phone behind him, but Annaiette commanded all his attention—her smile and laughter so compelling that he felt powerless to turn away—

“Annaiette!” came Haurchefant’s voice—the sound of it was enough to break the inexplicable hold that Annaiette’s laughter had on him. Both she and he turned to glance at Haurchefant, who looked simultaneously embarrassed and apologetic.

“Haurchefant!” Annaiette called in turn.

“I’m afraid I need to hurry home,” he said. “Ysayle called to tell me the bathroom sink was leaking, and I need to get a hold of maintenance ere the leak turns disastrous.”

“Oh no! Do you need any help with it?”

Solus wasn’t quite sure what Annaiette expected to do about a leaky sink—a sentiment shared by Haurchefant, it seemed, because he laughed so heartily that Solus could clearly see his stomach muscles flexing. “Nay, my friend, ‘tis a job for maintenance!” He gestured toward Solus. “Why don’t you spend the afternoon with our Lord Zohydaediarkelyn? My complex’s maintenance gentleman is quite responsive, he ought to be around within the bell.”

Something akin to disappointment flashed across Annaiette’s face, and for a brief, fraught moment, Solus was certain she felt that the prospect of spending the afternoon with him was unconscionable. But before he could open his mouth to assure her that she needn’t force herself to spend an afternoon with him and that he had to be on his way anyways, she smiled and nodded in assent.

“I suppose my plumbing skills do leave much to be desired,” she laughed. She glanced toward Solus, her eyes crinkling. “I should be glad to be in the company of What’s His Face, should he wish to have this humble shark in tow.”

Once more, the urge to reassure her that she needn’t feel obligated to spend with him just because her friend suggested it, but what instead came out of his mouth was:

“Certainly. How is a god to survive in a city such as this without a dependable shark guide?”

“Splendid!” Haurchefant said, clapping his blue hands together once. “Do enjoy yourselves! Annaiette, I shall keep you apprised of the sink situation. And don’t concern yourself with dinner if you find yourselves with other plans.”

Haurchefant gave him a wink so fleeting that Solus wasn’t sure he saw one at all, before raising a hand in farewell and turning to make his way for the street.

“Shall we get you across that finish line, Your Radiance?” said Annaiette, her grin wide.

Their arrival at the Last Vigil and the subsequent view of Coerthas—and absolutely naught else—was such a triumph in itself that Solus had all but forgotten that the Dragonsong Run was an actual race with a finish line, which he could see—and hear—in the distance. He supposed he ought to cross it since he was already here and sure to get an earful from either Hythlodaeus or Elidibus or both should he simply leave. While he was sure an event staffer would accost him for a photo, Annaiette’s presence gave him a suitable reason to quickly take his leave.

“Oh, I suppose,” he replied with an overexaggerated sigh. Annaiette let out a laugh and flashed him a grin before pulling the head of the costume back over her head, flapping her fins as she led the way to the finish line.

“Let’s go!” came her muffled voice.

The finish line consisted of huge Dragonsong Run banner hanging from a gantry that appeared to be emanating bubbles and intermittent bursts of fluffy white foam. An Elezen with a mic was perched on a scissor lift beside the gantry, his voice booming through the speakers and cutting through the thumping music as he congratulated the participants running—and walking, and in some cases staggering—across the finish line. His eyes immediately snapped to Solus as they neared, and his face lit up with a sort of surprise that made it clear that he hadn’t expected Solus to be there.

“And look who we have here!” the Elezen exclaimed. “The second finisher of our amazing charity group, Solus Galvus! Wit and fit, this man has it all! And don’t forget to cast your votes for your favorite charity runner costume, folks!”

A smattering of cheers joined the cacophony of music, and Solus made sure to wave and smile at the people who had noticed him. That he was second charity runner to finish was unexpected, but after a moment’s thought, he supposed the others had the very sensible plan of taking their leave after running or walking some nominal distance—which had been his very sensible plan, had he not literally bumped into a shark who then managed to cajole him into jogging for malms.

The finish line funneled the participants past a long line of tables where harried event volunteers were handing out cloud bananas, water bottles, commemorative race medals, and race shirts as quickly as they could as the participants walked past. The line eventually released them out into an open area where various vendors of food and goods had set up tents, and Solus thought he spied an ale garden set up in the distance.

He had little and less time to process the collection of items he suddenly found himself holding, though, because an event staffer immediately noticed him and hastily pulled their photographer companion over.

“Mr. Galvus!” the staffer said breathlessly. “Congratulations on finishing! Might we get a photo for the website?”

“Certainly.” Solus briefly glanced down at his armful of goodies—the untidy assortment of items surely made for a bad photo—but before he could put them down, Annaiette appeared before him with a fin outstretched.

“Let me hold your things!” she said, and though he couldn’t see her face, he could clearly hear the smile in it.

“Ah! Is this shark with you?” the staffer interjected. He immediately held his arms out. “Let’s get a photo with both of you, I’ll hold these!”

“Oh—erm—really?” Annaiette sputtered, but if the staffer heard her, he didn’t show it; he was busy pulling the items out of her fins as the photographer snapped photos of Solus.

The photographer was quick and had already finished getting her photos of Solus when the staffer finished taking things from Annaiette. The photographer nudged her so close to Solus that his shoulder squished into the costume and brushed against her shoulder within. She jumped ever so slightly; despite the fact that she’d just spent all day casually posing for photos hither and thither, she seemed frazzled by the photographer—or, more likely, frazzled by the prospect of being perceived alongside him by an official event photographer…

“Apologies, but we must be on our way. My thanks for an enjoyable event,” Solus said, stepping forward toward the staffer and photographer to prevent her from framing the both of them in photos. He gently but quickly took their items from the staffer, bowing with a flourish when he took the last of their things back. As he straightened up, he glanced toward Annaiette and managed to catch her eye through the small window in her costume. “Shall we, hero?”

She appeared conflicted, but relief crossed her face nonetheless.

“I should be glad to, Your Radiance!”

He nodded to the staffer as he strolled past, and Annaiette quickly fell in step at his side, her shark costume bobbing as she walked.

Just past the post-race festivities, there was a small stretch of street designated for rideshare pickups; the pair of them silently gravitated in that direction in their haste to escape event staff. When they reached the cordoned area, Annaiette pulled her head out of the costume, her eyes meeting his as her mouth spread into that familiar smile. “I hope your time with this shark guide was enjoyable!” Her eyes drifted away from his for a brief moment, and he just caught a flash of—anxiety? Regret?—before her face brightened. “I shan’t impose upon you further! Thank you for running with me, it was fun!”

“‘Twas no imposition at all,” Solus heard himself saying as mind and body both buzzed with an irritating persistence that he tried his damndest to ignore.

“Then—I hope the rest of your trip here is just as enjoyable!”

The sight of her turning away to leave—of her turning on her heel, and her smiling face once more faltering with an inexplicable anxiety until all he could see was the back of her head—

Something in Solus pushed through.

“Hero, wait.”

Annaiette stopped in her tracks, glancing over her shoulder in mild confusion.

He wasn’t even sure what he wished to say—he’d spoken without thinking, as though some reflex within found the sight of her departure to be unconscionable—

“I—wouldn’t be opposed to availing myself of further shark guidance.” These words, certainly unbidden but spoken all the same, came with a wry smile that only just concealed his soul’s attempt to cringe into oblivion. “Should this shark have availability this afternoon, of course.”

His traitorous mind very nearly tried to backtrack just moments after the words left his mouth, but he clenched his jaw shut and pushed the thoughts aside. Annaiette hesitated, however, and this made the irritating voice in his mind redouble its efforts to have him withdraw from this interaction and from this city and from her.

Her hesitation stretched on and on and finally Solus opened his mouth to rescind the offer to spare them both the embarassment—

Her smile, bright and eager, reappeared.

“You’re in luck, because there just so happens to be an available afternoon time slot!”

There was, however, one small problem: he was as yet covered in purple and white body paint and adorned with an absurd wig.

“If you would be amenable to waiting for me to wash this off—” Solus gestured to his face with a wry smile. “—perhaps we might go out for something to eat?”

“Of course!” Annaiette replied, this time with no hint of hesitation. “I can meet you wherever you’d like.”

Waiting alone for him to finish washing up certainly didn’t seem like a particularly enjoyable time for her. “You are quite welcome to come with me to my hotel.” He paused for a moment as the sound of his own words reached his ears. “The lobby is quite comfortable,” he added hastily, lest she think he was attempting to proposition her, “and if you wish, you may use my room key to use the lounge.”

“Ah! I’ve never been in a hotel lounge before,” Annaiette said, her eyes twinkling. “Let’s go!”

Solus couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle of disbelief at how quickly her shark persona dropped at the prospect of experiencing the hotel lounge.

It seemed that the race organizers had done a commendable job of informing Mount and Portr of the potential volume of rideshare requests; he requested a ride and was almost immediately assigned a driver. He Annaiette waited in a tense, awkward silence—all while he pointedly ignored the deluge of texts from Hythlodaeus—but mercifully they didn’t have to wait particularly long before the driver pulled up to collect them, and the pair of them clambered ungracefully into the back of the car as the driver looked on in mingled confusion and awe.

“Some event, eh? Quite the costumes you have there!”

Solus felt a small flash of annoyance ripple through him—the driver was clearly the chatty sort, and Solus was not in the mood for pleasantries—but to his immense relief, when he could not muster more than a “it was indeed,” he caught Annaiette shoot him a sympathetic glance before she immediately began filling the silence with the small talk that the driver was clearly fishing for. The hotel wasn’t terribly far, but the drive would have felt like an absolute eternity had Annaiette not kept the conversation up for the entirety of it.

When they were finally deposited at the hotel entrance, Annaiette let out a small whew of relief. “The driver certainly had a lot to say,” she laughed.

“And you tanked it quite beautifully, I must admit,” Solus replied as he led her into the hotel lobby.

He caught one of her eyebrows twitching upward at his words before she grinned.

“Shark guides are trained in tanking, you see. Part and parcel of the guide certification.”

“Ah, of course.”

As he led Annaiette into the lobby, he heard her make a small noise of awe. The hotel lobby wasn’t particularly special—to him, at least—but he supposed its ambience might be described as “fancy” or “classy” to some. This fact also meant that the well-dressed hotel staff found the arrival of this painted and be-wigged man with his accompanying shark to be a perplexing curiosity. Annaiette seemed wholly unbothered by the attention, though; she was enamored by the decor, particularly the high ceilings and modern light fixtures hanging from them.

“I only have one room key, unfortunately. My friend has the other, as he was helping me ascend to godhood for the race,” said Solus as they waited for the elevator. For a moment, he wondered if she might find it odd that Hythlodaeus had his other key, but it seemed she had no qualms about it if her response was to grin and immediately laugh in appreciation. “If you would be so kind as to accompany me to my room so that I might reenter my mortal vessel, you can take the room key to use the lounge.”

“Ah! Your mortal vessel. As one does.”

Unsurprisingly, it seemed that housekeeping had tidied Solus’ room while he was out: the bed was made, the sofa pillows rearranged, and the few items he’d left out were organized neatly on the table where he’d left them. What was surprising, however, was the little slip of paper he found on the table beside his charging cables. This paper hadn’t been here when he left the room this morning, and he could recognize Hythlodaeus’ spidery handwriting from yalms away…which meant that Hythlodaeus must have stopped by not too long ago.

While he could recognize the handwriting from yalms away, though, reading it was another matter entirely and it wasn’t until he had it in hand that he could read his friend’s thin script.

Hades—

I’ve found entertainment for the evening, but I
am a simple text message away if you need me.

Do try to have fun. :) :) :) :) :) :) <3

—Hythlodaeus

Solus scowled and immediately crushed the slip in his fist. Annaiette, who was presently extracting herself from the shark costume, fortunately did not notice this and he was afforded time to hastily throw the note into the rubbish bin.

“The room key,” said Solus, holding the keycard out to her as she pressed the air out of the comically deflating shark costume. “The lounge is on the twentieth floor, the signage is quite clear. You won’t need to pay for anything, it’s all free of charge.”

He couldn’t help but let out a tiny snort of amusement at the way her eyes twinkled excitedly at free of charge.

“I won’t be too long!” she said brightly.

“Take as long as you’d like. It takes considerable time to reenter my mortal vessel, after all.”

When the shark costume was neatly folded—or as neatly as one could fold such a shape—Annaiette eagerly departed for the lounge, leaving Solus to the tiresome task of removing all the trappings of the Lord Lady Hydaeark.

He found makeup and adhesive removers and a tube of round cotton pads on the bathroom counter, which was likely Hythlodaeus’ actual reason for visiting his room. Removing the wig was Solus’ first objective, but it quickly turned out to be quite a bit more tedious than expected: there were so many hairpins affixing the wig to his head that he spent overlong running his fingers through the wig to find them. As he took a break to rest his weary arms ere they lost feeling, for a brief, fleeting moment he thought it might be better if he had an extra pair of hands to help—

He shook his arms and the intrusive thought from his mind.

When finally the pins were out and his head mercifully released from the wig with the help of the adhesive remover, he was then faced with the daunting task of…his face. It was clear that Jullus had done his job admirably; the paint hadn’t come off with his sweat except in the parts that had rubbed against the wig or the collar of his jacket. This also meant that he required a ridiculous number of cotton pads soaked in makeup remover to get all of the paint off. Annaiette still hadn’t returned once the entire ordeal was over, so he supposed—with a tiny twitch of the corner of his mouth—that she must be enjoying herself in the lounge.

The shower had a rain shower head in addition to a more utilitarian head, and he spent a good long while standing there with cold water pouring over him in blessed relief. Surely Annaiette was busy sampling whatever was available in the lounge, and wasn’t awkwardly waiting for him to finish showering, and he was reasonably sure he hadn’t heard the room door open the entire time he was in there…

…Only to find her splayed on the sofa and fast asleep once he finally emerged from the bathroom.

A pair of plates sat on the coffee table, one with a small slice of some sort of chocolate ganache cake and the other with crumbs of what might have been the same, as well as a mug of what appeared to be some sort of espresso drink. The cake and mug were arranged side by side on the table in front of the empty armchair, while the plate with crumbs sat before her sleeping form on the sofa. Had she brought the cake and espresso back for him?

She didn’t stir despite his less-than-quiet exit from the bathroom. Her slumbering face showed undeniable signs of weariness—signs that were not nearly so prominent when her customary smile was in place—and he hated to wake her when she was sleeping so deeply. She had worn a tank top under the shark costume and he couldn’t help but notice that her bare arms were sporting quite the swath of goosepimples. A voice in the back of his mind wondered if she might like a blanket, and it was a voice that he indulged without thinking; he peered into the closet and found a set of extra sheets, but they looked quite thick and were zipped tightly in a soft plastic case that was sure to wake her if he tried to remove them.

He glanced at the light jacket that he’d worn on the flight in and thought it might suffice; he was relieved that it didn’t smell like airplane—the plane had been warm so it spent half the flight in his bag—and so with his heartbeat thumping in his ears, he gently draped the jacket over her. He was all but certain she was going to wake, but she didn’t so much as flutter an eye open and in fact seemed to fall into an even deeper sleep—something in her face relaxed as she pulling the jacket snugly around her shoulders and curled up underneath it.

Solus very pointedly ignored his embarrassing heartbeat and even more embarrassing warming face as he sat down in the armchair to eat the slice of cake.

The room was dark and quiet when Annaiette cracked a bleary eye open.

Ah. It’s late, she thought sleepily as she pulled her blanket tighter and nestled her cheek into the sofa.

A voice in her mind, still sluggish from its deep slumber, remarked upon the fact that she hadn’t lay down with a blanket earlier. She felt this was inconsequential and pushed the voice aside in favor of enjoying the blanket’s warmth—until, of course, the rest of her mind began waking and began taking stock of the situation. (1) She hadn’t had a blanket earlier; (2) it had been light out earlier; (3) she had been waiting for What’s His Face to finish showering ere they went out to eat—

What’s His Face was certainly taking his time to shower…

…What’s His Face…

…Solus.

Her eyes shot open as realization struck her square across the face.

She pushed herself up onto an elbow in search of him—had he left her here to sleep? Her eyes searched wildly across the big hotel suite, expecting to find herself alone in an empty room. But to her surprise, she didn’t need to look far; when her eyes finished their search with the armchair adjacent to the sofa, it was there that they found Solus Galvus awash in the gentle glow of the city lights filtering through the curtains, fast asleep with his head resting on his hand and his bangs askew over his face. A deep embarrassment filled Annaiette as her mind berated her in every which way: how could she have fallen asleep? How could she have made him wait? What if he was hungry? What if he was tired and wanted her gone? What if—

Solus’ eyes opened at the sound of her movement, disoriented at first, then blinking sleep away as they slowly found hers.

“Ah, you’re awake,” he said, yawning.

“I’m so, so sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep! Why didn’t you wake me?” Annaiette sputtered as she bolted upright. As she did so, what she thought was a blanket slipped off her shoulders, and with a growing mortification, she realized the very comfortable blanket was actually a jacket.

Solus’ jacket.

“I needed a nap myself,” he chuckled as he sleepily rubbed his eyes. “It’s quite exhausting to be mortal, after all.”

Annaiette eyes followed his fingers as they brushed his bangs out of his face and she felt her heart flutter at the sight; in her haste to do anything to take her mind off the feeling, she leapt up in search of a light switch. There were, in fact, several light switches within reach, but each one she flipped controlled everything except the room-illuminating lamps. She spent a fraught few moments in growing dismay every time a switch turned on some unhelpful accent light in a place that certainly didn’t require an accent light.

A large floor lamp nearby finally flared on and she spun around to face Solus in triumph, only to find him standing with his finger on a switch and an amused smirk on his face.

Her face warmed as a laugh bubbled out of her chest.

“So—would you still like to get food?” Annaiette asked once she wrestled the nervous laughter back down. “It’s late now, so I totally understand if you’d rather not—”

“Let’s get something to eat,” Solus interjected before any more words could spill out of her mouth. “You seem well-acquainted with Ishgard, hero. Do you have any recommendations?”

She vaguely remembered Haurchefant telling her that the new food hall Francel had been working on was finally open. A food hall seemed like a safe choice: there were several stalls to choose from so he could eat what he wished without regard for her, and from what she remembered, there ought to be several little pop up shops attached…

“Would you like to go to a new food hall in the Firmament? I haven’t been there myself, but the owner is a friend of mine and I’m sure he did a wonderful job!”

“I shall hold you to that,” said Solus wryly. He gestured toward the door. “Shall we?”

“When have I ever steered you wrong?" She grinned and rapped his arm with her knuckles as she stepped past. “The shark guide service always delivers!”

Their shared laughter filled the hallway as they left the room.

It wasn’t far from the hotel to the Firmament, but Annaiette hailed a rideshare regardless: it was just far enough to make walking tiresome (especially after running several malms earlier in the day), and while Ishgard had decent enough public transit, the options from the hotel to the Firmament were quite inconvenient. The food hall in question was situated in the Risensong Quarter and was a passion project of sorts for Francel de Haillenarte: he’d started the project as a way to provide a community space for the residents of the nearby neighborhoods. From what little Annaiette knew, he had apparently gone through a veritable gauntlet to get the place built whilst luxury real estate developers with deep coffers did all they could to try and wrest the lot from him, and at some point had to call in several favors from people involved in Ishgard bureaucracy in order to finally bring the project to completion.

Their driver dropped them off right across the street from the food hall, aptly named The Risensong Market. The building was large and shaped vaguely like it could have been an old auditorium or storehouse, with fascinatingly tiny booths built into the front facade of the hall that couldn’t have been much bigger than a street food stall. It was late, but a handful of booths were still open: she was charmed by the assortment of shops, which included a local artist selling cute knitted and crocheted goods, a houseplant shop with a tiny jungle crammed into the space, and a shop selling gourmet treats and handmade toys for pets (where a miniature chocobo was currently making its demands for more treats well known).

“This isn’t at all what I expected, I love it,” Annaiette said as they walked past the little shops, grinning as she gave Solus a quick glance over her shoulder.

It turned out that her words had fallen upon nonexistent ears—he had paused to examine the knitted items at some point, and seemed particularly interested in the tiny crocheted toys. Annaiette rejoined him at his side and noted the expression on the shopkeep, who was staring at Solus with the look of someone puzzling over his face and why it looked familiar. The shopkeep didn’t seem inclined to make a fuss about it, though, so Annaiette relaxed and peered down at the items that had caught Solus’ attention. Immediately she made a noise of delight: there were exceptionally spherical toys of various creatures, one of which was a korpokkur that could fit in the palm of her hand.

“Pocket wisdom! Very convenient,” Annaiette laughed, reverently holding the tiny korpokkur up to Solus. His mouth twitched into a smile as he let out a small chuckle.

“Much more convenient than visiting the zoo,” he agreed, nodding once.

She admired the skillfully made korpokkur for a few moments longer before carefully placing it back in its place on the little shelf of crocheted creatures. “Are you going to buy one?” Annaiette asked when Solus’ eyes lingered on the little crocheted toys.

“I was simply appreciating the craftsmanship, hero,” he said airily, before putting his hands in his pockets and turning away from the shop. “Shall we?”

Annaiette smiled, quickly thanking the shopkeep for her time before she turned to continue on toward the entrance to the food hall.

Or at least, she tried to continue on. The shop with the pet treats was the nearest open shop to the entrance, and she found herself uncontrollably drawn to the irrestitably adorable biscuits, all cut into the shape of the beast they were intended for. The miniature chocobo—not larger than Alpha, perhaps—was still there, kweh-ing impatiently as its harried master broke a just-purchased chocobo biscuit into smaller pieces. Annaiette reached for a similar plastic-wrapped chocobo biscuit to examine it closer, grinning at the glittery, golden icing and pearly sprinkles for eyes. The biscuit looked so appealing that she had half a mind to purchase it…

Solus stood at her side and peered curiously at the biscuit in her hands. “A gift for Alpha?” he asked, the amusement obvious in his voice. “Or do you perhaps have a secret chocobo hidden away in your apartment?”

His words gave her pause—she wouldn’t be seeing Alpha any time soon and additionally didn’t own any chocobos to give the biscuit to, this was true—so she very reluctantly put it back in its bin.

“I don’t have one, but you never know when one might appear,” she said lightly. Almost as though it had been listening, the miniature chocobo pushed past its master and fixed her with an eager, expectant look. Annaiette (and the chocobo’s master, and the shopkeep) laughed, and the chocobo was so focused on her that she put her hands on her hips and gently admonished it. “It’s not for you!”

The chocobo let out a trilling kweh of disapproval and immediately turned its focus back to the person who did have biscuits for it.

The chocobo’s master apologized as they took their leave of the little shop (“Sorry, she’s quite food motivated,” he said in embarassment) and made their way into the food hall.

The hall wasn’t terribly crowded, but it had a lively air nonetheless. A live band was performing on a stage on one end of the hall, and Annaiette was pleasantly surprised to find that the hall and stage setup had been acoustically-treated well and while the band was loud, the sound was neither overpowering nor painful to the ears. Food and beverage stalls lined the walls, ranging from typical Ishgardian stews and pies to Hingashi noodle soups and Turali tacos. There even appeared to be a stall serving Garlean pizza.

“What do you fancy this evening, Your Radiance? Pizza, mayhap?” Annaiette asked, grinning cheekily at the look of mild disapproval that Solus had cast toward the Garlean pizza as they passed.

“I thought I might defer to the expertise of the shark guide,” he replied with a smirk. “What does the shark recommend?”

“I think you should find Ishgardian food to be a safe choice!”

“And should I wish for an unsafe choice?”

Annaiette let out a bark of laughter. “Unsafe choices might include the tacos and that Garlean pizza…Ishgard doesn’t do either particularly well. I've been burned far too many times.”

“How about this, hero? Why don’t you pick what you’d like to eat, and I’ll get drinks and dessert?”

“Deal!”

As Solus strolled away to examine the drink stalls and bar area, Annaiette turned her attention to food. There was a busy Doman stall serving pan-fried steamed buns that looked particularly appealing. One order came with six buns—they were more dumpling-sized than bun-sized, really—and while two servings would have sufficed in normal circumstances, they’d had a long, strenuous day at the race so she thought it prudent to get one more thing. She decided to also order from the adjacent stall, which appeared to be an interesting Ishgardian-Hannish fusion that served Ishgardian stews with a decidedly Hannish flair, such as one dish with a “popular” indicator which seemed to be an Ishgardian aldgoat stew combined with a Hannish curry.

“How spicy would you like it?” asked the Hannish Au Ra cashier. “Mild, medium, spicy?” He paused briefly, and in the puzzling silence Annaiette rather felt that he was sizing her up for one reason or another. “…Hannish spicy?” he finally added.

Annaiette hesitated for a fleeting moment; food in Ishgard trended disappointingly toward mild for any dishes that typically had any heat, but she was deeply curious what “Hannish spicy” might mean in Ishgard.

“Hannish spicy!”

The cashier nodded approvingly.

Whilst her orders of buns and curry were being prepared, she glanced about the hall to to see if she could find what Solus had decided for drinks. She couldn’t find him anywhere, but it was not for lack of trying; the hall was full of Elezen so she couldn’t use his height to spot him, and there were a number of pillars and banners obscuring much of the area where the beverage stalls were. She supposed he was watching and waiting somewhere and would reappear when it suited him, which was just as well because it appeared that she had unluckily ordered the buns right as a fresh batch was put to the steamer.

The curry came out before the steamed buns and Annaiette could smell the spices wafting enticingly out of the gaps in the larger-than-expected takeaway container—she knew in that moment that she most certainly received the promised Hannish Spicy and she was quite eager to taste it. The buns, however, were taking a veritable eternity and Solus was still nowhere to be found. The tiny, irrational fear that Solus had simply fled into the night crept into her mind, and while her logical mind knew that to be exceedingly unlikely, she nonetheless wondered if eating two orders of steamed buns by herself would be sufficient to stem the humiliation of being deserted by What’s His Face.

He was still missing when the steamed buns were finally ready, so Annaiette took her perhaps maybe slightly excessive armful of food down toward the bar. It wasn’t terribly crowded, which only made the oh no he just left me here voice ever louder, but the growing tension in her chest immediately loosened when she found him waiting at the bar and watching the bartender with an expression of barely-concealed irritation. One cocktail was waiting in front of him—an Old Fashioned, perhaps—while the bartender worked on another that appeared to have a generous helping of mezcal. Solus turned as she neared, his eyes clearly peering out toward the food stalls where she’d just been—the tension within her loosened ever more at the sight, and when his searching eyes found hers, his thin frown twitched into a smile that wholly undid what little tension remained.

“You certainly don’t do things in half-measures,” said Solus with a silent snort of amusement.

“Certainly not!” Annaiette replied with a grin. “How am I to know whether we will eat enough for two or twofold?”

“Prudent of you to err on the side of caution.” He paused before glancing back toward the bar. “Apologies for the wait, hero, I was held up in line.”

“Not at all! What did you get?”

Solus gestured to the drink waiting on the counter with a small flourish of his wrist. “This one is an Old Fashioned.” Then to the drink the bartender was currently garnishing with a lime. “And a Mezcalixir. You may have first pick, as thanks for your excellent shark guide services.”

“Oh, there are two cherries,” said Annaiette curiously when she examined the Old Fashioned. “How luxurious.”

“I like cherries.” Solus said this so matter-of-factly that Annaiette couldn’t help but laugh. “But I may be willing to part with them, should you find them to your liking.”

“No, no, the Mezcalixir will be absolutely fine!”

The bartender, no doubt listening to their conversation, placed the finished Mezcalixir in front of her and then held up a tiny cocktail skewer with a cherry. “Would you like a cherry, lass? Seeing as this fellow seems disinclined to share?”

"I’ll not say no to a free cherry!” Annaiette laughed, taking the cherry with her free hand as Solus shot the bartender a sour look.

They left the bar, Solus holding the two drinks and Annaiette balancing the stack of food in one arm and holding the cherry in the other. Once they were out of the immediately vicinity of the bartender, she gave him a sidelong grin and dropped the cherry into his Old Fashioned. “There, now you have three cherries!”

Solus appeared inexplicably nonplussed by this, but Annaiette had little time to ponder when she unexpectedly caught sight of some familiar faces.

Haurchefant and her other Ishgardian friends—those that had attended the Dragonsong Run, as well as Francel and Lucia—were sitting at a table some twenty fulms away with their eyes on her, all of whom sporting a curious antelope-in-the-headlights look that suggested they didn’t expect to be noticed.

She glanced over her shoulder at Solus and smiled. “I’m going to say hello to my friends, I’ll just be a moment.”

He nodded. “Take your time.”

“Hello, everyone!” Annaiette called as she wove her way toward her friends. The antelope-in-the-headlights looks melted away as she approached, replaced with smiles as they waved to greet her.

“Annaiette, what good fortune to encounter you here!” Haurchefant’s eyes darted toward Solus, whom Annaiette was surprised had followed her there. “Am I correct in presuming that this is but another form of the Lord and Lady Zodaeyln?”

“Ah yes, this is S—” Just as Solus’ name was about to pass her lips, Annaiette was suddenly very aware of the number of people around them and managed to choke the name down. “This is What’s His Face!”

Her friends, most of which were at least somewhat acquainted with her What’s His Face blunder, were all keeping an admirable handle on their faces.

And to Annaiette’s immense relief, Solus looked amused and self-satisfied rather than affronted. “Indeed. The name is unwieldy, however, so you may call me Lucius.” She briefly met his eyes and found a subtle cheekiness in them—her skin warmed when she realized that he had remembered the false name that she’d given him that morning when they encountered her neighbor.

“We would be honored to have you and Annaiette join us, Lucius, should you be so inclined” Haurchefant said, gesturing to the empty seats beside Estinien and Aymeric.

She glanced back once more toward Solus to get a measure of his comfort; he appeared relaxed and gestured at the table with the Mezcalixir. “I’ve no objections, go ahead.”

Annaiette was quite pleased with the tact of her Ishgardian friends; they greeted Solus warmly, of course, and said some number words of awe and admiration regarding his participation as a charity runner as well as the outlandish costume he did wore whilst doing it, but they politely returned to their earlier conversation under the guise of allowing him to eat in peace. She caught the way Solus’ shoulders and face slowly relaxed as the interaction progressed and subsequently concluded—she made a mental note to thank her friends later.

Varshahn, though, appeared contemplative and Annaiette felt somewhat unsettled by the way he seemed to be using his eyes to bore through her skull.

“Full glad am I that you two have found each other after so long,” Varshahn said, his smile gentle but his words cryptic and perplexing. Annaiette supposed Haurchefant must have told the group about her misadventures this past summer—a fact which did not bother her whatsoever—but to describe it as “so long”?

“Oh, we talked some fortnight ago, not terribly long,” laughed Annaiette, both at Varshahn’s “so long” and the look of quizzical bemusement that had appeared on Solus’ face at Varshahn’s words.

Neither Solus nor Annaiette were inclined to pursue the matter. While she couldn’t claim to know what Solus might be feeling, she personally got the sense that Varshahn was unlikely to elaborate (and indeed, he had smiled before turning to listen to the conversation on his opposite side) and instead focused her efforts on more germane matters: namely, their steamed buns and curry. She was, however, intrigued by what her friends were discussing and couldn’t help but listen in herself.

“You’re going to Tuliyollal next year?” Annaiette heard Francel ask. 

Estinien made a grunt of affirmation. “Mm. Going for a couple moons.”

“What are you doing in Tuliyollal?” Annaiette asked curiously through a mouthful of steamed bun.

“Finally going to hike the Dawn Trail.”

“Oh, that’s exciting! Are you going to join the Succession event?”

“Mm.”

Annaiette couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit of envy that Estinien was both hiking the Trail and joining the event—she hoped one day she might take enough time off to hike the entirety at once. The Dawn Trail was a long, long thru-hike that spanned Yok Tural along the path of the old Rite of Succession of Tuliyollal royalty. The Rite of Succession event happened each year at the start of hiking season, starting in Tuliyollal and ending at the Gate of the Golden City near Mamook. Each participant received a little strap to clip onto their packs, and at each stop along the Trail, they received a keystone pin to affix to the strap. And though it was technically a race, it was only treated as such by the most diehard hikers; to even finish the trail in one season was a massive feat unto itself, and most hikers simply hiked the trail as a challenge to themselves.

“You’re welcome to come along, Annaiette,” Estinien ventured. “You’ve talked about it for years.”

While she really did want to hike the trail, she laughed and waved his offer off. “Oh, I couldn’t take the time off!” She punctuated this by stuffing another bun into her mouth.

“Just disappear for a few moons,” Estinien said with a thin, almost teasing smile. “I could use a climbing partner to get up the collapsed section in Kozama’uka.”

“Collapsed? Isn’t that dangerous?” Francel interjected in disbelief.

Annaiette managed to chew and swallow before letting out a bark of laughter (so as not to spray Solus with a deluge of steamed bun). “Might die, but eh.”

Her friends laughed—or Haurchefant did, anyroad, whilst the others smiled thinly—but when she glanced at Solus, she found that his brows had furrowed somewhat, and he seemed particularly focused on his food. Immediately she felt a wave of guilt; he seemed the type to appreciate dark humor, but she wondered if perhaps she was mistaken…

“I doubt anything so insignificant as a mountain could do aught to you, my friend,” Haurchefant said with a hearty guffaw.

“Hillsides, though—they sneak up on you,” Annaiette laughed, grinning when Solus glanced up and met her eyes. “Eh, S—Lucius?”

Solus was not so bothered that he couldn’t give her a wry half-smile in response. “The Mor Dhona hillsides are quite cunning, certainly.”

Haurchefant guffawed again. “Clearly there is a story about hillsides there, my friend.”

She was about to launch into the story of the hillside and the thorns gifted to her body by said hillside, but her eyes fell upon the container of curry that yet remained. “Wait, there’s curry stew to eat!” Annaiette blurted as she hastily opened the container of steaming fire-red stew and unwrapped the bundle of flatbread that had accompanied the order. “Would you all like to taste some? It’s allegedly Hannish spicy.” She emphasized her words with a waggle of her eyebrows.

While Varshahn’s interest was piqued, her Ishgardian (and Garlean) friends took one look at the dangerously red stew before exchanging hesitant glances.

Francel was first to speak—he chuckled nervously and held up his hands. “I’m quite terrible with spice, so I shall abstain. Thank you, though, Annaiette!”

“I’m afraid this will only end badly for me as well,” said Aymeric apologetically.

It was not unexpected that these friends refused, but Annaiette knew Haurchefant at least would always be game to try something with her. Just a quick glance at him was enough for him to stand and hold up his fists in determination.

“I shall jump into the flames with you, my friend!”

She couldn’t help but snicker at Haurchefant’s theatric manner before glancing to Solus; she actually had no idea if he had a taste for spicy food, but he at least didn’t appear to be quite as obviously hesitant as her other friends. “And you, Lucius?” she asked, grinning. “Shall we jump into the flames together?”

“Together then, hero,” he replied airily as he made a show of begrudgingly acquiescing, but Annaiette caught a hint of a tease in his voice and the subtle twitch in the corners of his mouth and she couldn’t help but grin a little wider.

She ripped one flatbread into pieces and gave a piece to any who wished to brave Hannish spicy curry. She looked to Varshahn and gave him a nod. “As you hail from Radz-at-Han, would you like the honor of the first taste?”

All waited with bated breath as Varshahn dipped the flatbread into the curry and took his first bite. Annaiette half expected a look of disappointment to appear on his face, but to her surprise, he smiled and nodded in wholehearted approval. “It’s quite good: a warmth that most assuredly reminds me of our spicy curries at home.”

“Perfect!” said Annaiette eagerly as she dipped her own piece of flatbread into the curry, with Solus and Haurchefant following in her example.

Perhaps overconfident from Varshahn’s demure approval, Annaiette took a larger bite than was wise. For one tiny, fleeting moment, she thought perhaps she’d been had by Ishgard once again—the taste was a wonderful fusion of Ishgardian and Hannish flavors but not terribly spicy. Or rather, she thought that until heat began slowly spreading throughout her mouth, growing and growing in intensity.

Not a moment later, her mouth felt like it was on fire, with no signs of it abating.

“Navigator’s salty arsecheeks!” Annaiette exclaimed as sweat began beading on her skin. As she desperately reached for her Mezcalixir, she threw a glance over toward Haurchefant and Solus, both of which were in the process of internally catching fire from the spiciness—Haurchefant was draining his water cup while Solus’ face was reddening in his efforts to keep his composure in the face of the untold heat. Despite their fraught situation, laughter began bubbling up from her chest, until she was both perishing from heat and laughing all the while; Solus looked somewhat aggrieved by her laughter, but she quickly took a gulp from her ice-filled Mezcalixir to cool her mouth before pushing it toward him. “Take it, take it!”

Solus looked torn, but it seemed his burning mouth finally prevailed over any of his misgivings and he took a deep draught from her drink.

Her laughter only grew as the heat in her mouth faded, and one by one her friends joined in until all had contributed at least a hearty chuckle or two.

“Hannish spicy indeed. Delicious, though!” Annaiette laughed. She wiped the sweat from her face on a sleeve before reaching over for another piece of flatbread and caught Solus watching her with a sort of bewildered amusement. “What?”

“‘Navigator’s salty arsecheeks’?” he repeated, arching an eyebrow.

Haurchefant let out a burst of laughter. “The Lominsan comes out of her in times of distress,” he chortled. "Our friend is a veritable sailor at times!”

Annaiette felt her face warming once more—this time out of mild embarrassment rather than spice—but joined her friend in his good-natured laughter nonetheless. “I try not to be,” she laughed. “I do, in fact, have manners.”

“Except when calling me ‘What’s His Face,’ it seems,” said Solus as he took a sip from his Old Fashioned.

Her face warmed even more as more and more laughter bubbled out of her, and she felt her heart skip a beat at the subtle upturn of his mouth.

“I have manners most of the time!”