Work Text:
TJ Lionett sighs, wincing in pain. He knows it’s tough being the younger brother of a Cobalt Soul High Curator. Because then you end up with some rather… cruel rivals. And they aren’t afraid to be cruel to you just to send a message to your sister.
Too bad the only message they sent will be a death wish, once she finds out.
It was a day like any other at the Rexxentrum Archive of the Cobalt Soul. Another day of lessons in lore and coaching in combat. TJ was still quite young for an acolyte at the tender age of twenty, but what he lacks in years is made up for in an indomitable spirit.
Sometimes, however, spirit is not enough. It’s not enough to withstand long stretches of soreness or insomnia from studying too hard.
It’s also not enough when you find yourself surrounded in an alley outside the Archive.
TJ clears his throat. “Do we really have to do this? Can’t you find something more productive than causing trouble?”
The leader of the small gang, a fire genasi, sneers at TJ, his fiery locks seeming to grow brighter with his rage.
Ashley Coulson, a fellow acolyte here in the city. He runs with a crew of delinquents who need some type of leader to help them be organized.
If anything, Ash reminds TJ a little bit of his sister, just with none of the maturity… or even humility, which is saying something as his sister was not always humble. Regardless, he’d already been on thin ice and was on the verge of being kicked out. If he picked a fight now, outside of the library, he could kiss his cobalt dreams goodbye.
“You must think you’re pretty hot shit, don’t you? Being the Curator’s brother. What’s it like, living in your ivory tower all day, only coming down here to grace the masses with your privileged wisdom?”
TJ sneers at the guy. More than anything, he hates being reminded of what his early life used to be, born into an unhappy household. His mom and sister told him a lot about what it was like in their day, and TJ felt disgusted by it.
“I’m just here to learn, just like you, Ash,” TJ replies, trying to reason with the genasi. “I didn’t ask for special treatment. You’re just imagining things.”
Ash doesn’t respond at first. The flames that make up his head only glow brighter… and hotter, as if he’s about to erupt or explode.
“Besides,” TJ continues to say, trying to reason with Ash as well as the goons surrounding him, “I’m pretty sure that if we just talk to B— to High Curator Lionett, we can get her to help you find whatever it is you need.”
The flames turn white-hot. He clearly did not like that answer.
“No, I’ll show you what I need.”
From there, it quickly breaks down into a flurry of blows and blocks and bashing.
One-on-one, TJ could hold his own quite fine. Against one monk and five other goons, not so much. Nowhere near being on the same level as his sister. He still gave them one hell of a fight, though, even if he lost in the end.
During the fight, Ash managed to get close enough to hit him hard with a palm strike. It connected and he ended up stunned. But what he felt wasn’t a palm. It was a blade. Most likely a concealed blade. And it cut deep.
And to add insult to injury, literally, he twisted the blade and broke it, leaving it in his body.
And now he finds himself here. The gang had run off, having stolen TJ’s satchel that contained his books and homework for the evening. They left him in the middle of the alley, bruised with a couple of broken bones somewhere… and a foreign object lodged in his abdomen.
TJ tries to steady his breathing. Ash had gone too far, even for someone of his nature. He knows that he has to treat his wounds. And the first, most important thing that needs treatment is his stomach.
He takes hold of his sash and takes it off, then bites down on it.
This is going to suck, he thinks grimly, as he takes a small set of tools and tries to reach for the blade and pull it out.
It hurts so fucking bad. He realizes too late that he could’ve taken something to help dull the pain, but all that was in the satchel that was stolen.
Nevertheless, after a couple more minutes, his fingers find purchase on the object inside. Breathing deeply and quickly, he winces and pulls with all of his might.
The squelching of blood and sinew is horrendous to his ears, but despite that he still manages to finally remove it. He holds it up to his face as he spits out the sash. It’s totally soaked in his blood.
“Fuck me…” TJ mutters weakly as he throws the broken blade aside. Realizing that he’s in danger of bleeding out, he takes his sash and wraps it around his wound, using what strength he has left to really tighten it. His consciousness is beginning to dim.
“TJ?!”
A voice, from his right. He weakly turns his head in that direction.
There, at the entrance to the alley, is his sister Beauregard, the broken blade from earlier in her hand. She must have noticed it as it got flung out into the street.
Lucky me…
“B-Beau…” TJ begins to say, his speech slurring badly. His sister is already sprinting at him, holding him close regardless of the fact that she’s getting his blood over her.
“TJ, you okay? Who… who did this to you? Can you hear me? TEEJ?! SAY SOMETHING!!”
Her voice grows even more frantic, and even more distant. His eyes close just as he hears the sound of a cork being removed from a bottle and feels something pressed against his lips.
Oh. A healing potion, huh?
TJ numbly takes the potion and drinks it. It manages to slowly close his wound and relieve some of the more severe bone fractures and bruising, but he is still hurting bad.
“Ash… Ashley…”
His eyes are still closed, but based on the tone in Beau’s voice, she is seething with anger.
“I see. You’re going to be okay, TJ. Come on.” He feels himself being lifted and held in her arms. “Let’s get you back inside. I’ll have a cleric tend to you… and I’m going to have a few words with your ‘friend’.”
“Heh… he’s no friend,” TJ replies quietly. “Just another asshole who needs discipline.”
“Yeah,” he can hear Beau say, still angry in tone but with a touch of sadness and relief mixed in. “I’m proud that you managed to treat yourself before I found you.”
“Mm-hmm…”
TJ is so tired. He just wants to go to sleep.
Beau must have heard him mutter this, so she says to him, “Go ahead and take a load off. I’ll be right here with you.”
Such a declaration brings a weak smile to TJ’s lips as he fully loses consciousness.
