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Arthur had only been caught off guard by the Drifter a few times. The first was their introduction. The second was them clocking Quincy in the face when he made a comment they really didn’t like. The third was getting hit in the face with a pen when he was sure they hadn’t spotted him.
Eyes like a hawk, that one.
Aoi gave him a good lecture after the pen incident. It was only a day later he could admit it was deserved. Trust was always a complicated subject for him, Aoi understood that. But she made it very clear it had gone too far this time. And she was very right. The Drifter had proven themselves time and time again to be trustworthy. He just needed to see it for himself.
They’d mentioned to him that their food had always been cut up into squares and cubes. Something about efficiency. He didn’t fully get it, but he could try and make them more comfortable. More welcome. It was the least he could do for them after stabbing and stalking them.
Gods, he really had been in the military too long.
The big question was how to get the spaghetti into cubes. Maybe the gelatin gamble was his only option. But what was the proper ratio? Maybe he was due a supply run.
As he finally was lost in thought in his kitchen, the Drifter suddenly appeared behind him. Little more than a silent footstep was all it took for Arthur to turn and see them. They leaned against the doorway into his kitchen, a neutral expression on his face.
“Yo,” they said, not firmly but far from soft.
“Hey,” Arthur replied, significantly less enthused than the Drifter’s monotone. “I uh… would like to apologize for how I treated you.”
They shrugged, eyes closing lazily. “I wouldn’t worry too much about it.”
“I’m going to,” he quickly interjected. “Your performance in the field speaks for itself, and the rest of The Hex trust you. That alone speaks volumes about you.”
“Quincy trusts me?” They seemed shocked, understandably so. Arthur merely nodded. “No kidding? Huh.”
“Anyways, I should trust you aren’t here to kill us in our sleep, so I’m going to. Anything you need, you just ask,” he finally finished. He was still a bit nervous, but he was pretty sure it wasn’t because of the Drifter.
“We’re both children of war, I understand your caution. It’s good you say that, though, because I need a favor from you,” The Drifter turned away. Were they… bashful?
“Sure, what is it, Drifter?”
“It’s Marty, now.”
Arthur scoffed. “Bet Amir had a field day with that.”
“Two cracked ribs,” Marty winced.
“Your favor?” He asked, grin slowly forming at the image of Amir hugging the fairly small person.
“I need to know Eleanor’s ring size.”
…
…
…
Four times. Marty had caught him off guard four times.
Eleanor’s ring size?! Oh Gods, what kind of brother am I? They’re… involved?! For how long?! Have they had- Arthur quickly shook his head before going down that quickly turning uncomfortable rabbit hole. “Her… ring size? I had no idea that you felt that way.”
Marty raised an eyebrow. “Eleanor’s been nothing but good to me. Just paying it back, I suppose.”
What were the signs? Were they keeping it a secret from him? Was he so obsessed with the idea Marty was there to hurt them he completely missed love blooming on the battlefield? Amir’s endless quotes aside, this was a massive step to have missed so thoroughly. Arthur really needed to talk to Eleanor.
“Right, well, uh. Let me put this in the fridge to settle,” Arthur turned around at the gelatin spaghetti. He covered the bowl with a lid and slid the concoction away. That’ll be his surprise for later. “I don’t know ring sizes, not something they train in the army, but I do have an old family heirloom which should fit. Last I checked, anyways.”
“It’ll do, I can take a measurement or something. Keep this quiet though, if you can,” Marty requested.
“Hard to do that with a psychic,” Arthur commented. “Wait, how are we supposed to get it without her knowing? Does she already know?” Arthur looked to the door to his kitchen, as if he was trying to catch a child eavesdropping.
“Relax. I’ve got that covered and panicking will only alert her that something’s wrong,” Marty put a hand up to Arthur, like he was an anxious horse. Which he supposed he resembled in this moment. “First, Amir’s closest to her right now.”
“How does that help?”
“If you think he talks fast you haven’t heard his brain. Eleanor’s powerful but ultimately she’s still human. Amir’s thoughts will help mask ours,” Marty explained, their voice taking on a quality almost like a professor’s.
Huh. ‘Human.’ It came a second too late but Arthur felt some warmth that they could still be called that. Human.
“Second, the best way to keep your thoughts your own is to intentionally think of something else.”
Arthur laughed. “You’re joking.”
Marty smirked slightly. “Deathly serious. Nyx, at least my Nyx senses different concepts from different things. For humanoid or sentient creatures, generally I can get full sentences and thoughts. For animals it’s more sensations, feelings, that sort of thing.”
Gods he really needed to speak to Eleanor. “And… what about the techrot?”
If Marty noticed his hesitation, they didn’t comment on it. “Static, sort of. There’s a meaning to it. I described it to Amir, and he said it sounded like a dialup connection?”
Arthur nodded in understanding. He picked up the landline they connected in the mall once to order a pizza, once. He hadn’t known Amir was in the middle of downloading a movie. Arthur did not make that mistake a second time.
What did that mean for Eleanor, though?
“Anyways, just think of one thing very intentionally. That should be enough,” They finished the explanation. “My go to is the word pineapple.”
“Just pineapple?”
“It’s a bit more pleasant than my other thoughts,” They shrugged out. “Where are we headed?”
Arthur guided Marty to the more or less abandoned internet cafe. The whole time the pair whispered ‘Pineapple’ to themselves. Arthur felt silly, but took small comfort in knowing Eleanor didn’t know of their espionage. Cardboard cutouts of some guy in glasses, empty slurpee cups, and other garbage littered the area. Hidden away in the register was a small velvet box. His mother’s engagement ring. He’d always meant to give it to Christopher for Eleanor but…
Not the time, Nightingale.
He’d hidden it here once they moved into the mall. Amir quickly routed the internet further in for everyone’s convenience, and the cafe was promptly abandoned. Perfect hiding spot, in his eyes. Especially after he found the key to the register.
The ring itself was a simple golden band. Five diamonds were slotted into the top of the ring, at an angle but still in-line with one another. No one in the Nightingale family was terribly fancy by any means. But it meant so much for him to hold onto regardless.
“Here,” he handed the box to Marty. They very carefully opened it, and examined the ring. “Maybe… maybe you could give that to her?”
“Why?” Marty asked, as they held a caliper to the ring. “It’s yours, isn’t it?”
“Well… I figured she might appreciate it,” Arthur suddenly felt like ripping off all of his skin. “Since-”
“Arthur, I have no doubt she’d love it. I think you should give it to her, though,” Marty closed the case and handed it back to him. “If you want her to have it, I think she’d appreciate it more from you than from me.”
I’m a horrible brother. He thought to himself, holding the velvet box in his hand. “You’re right, Gods you are but I hate it.” Arthur stared daggers at the box. He clenched his teeth so hard his jaw cracked slightly. The tension only released when he felt a hand on his arm.
“I get it, sometimes it’s hard for me to talk to Ejabi. Siblings can be like that. I think if you sat down with her, really talked to her, you’d find a lot more common ground than you think,” Marty said. They had a solemn but hopeful look on their face. “Anyways, I shouldn’t put my head where it doesn’t belong. Thanks, call us square I guess.”
Arthur smiled, and slid the box into his hiding spot. “No, thank you. You’ve given me a lot to think about. You’re a welcome addition to the family.”
Both of Marty’s brows raised this time. “I think that’s the first time you’ve called The Hex that. Amir would probably cry-”
“I mean the Nightingales.”
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…
…
“What?”
“What do you mean ‘what?’ You’re proposing, aren’t you?” Arthur’s brow furrowed.
“What?! No!” The calm collectedness that Marty usually showed was replaced by wide eyed panic. “Why the hell did you-?”
“You asked her ring size! What did you expect?!” Arthur was so lost now, he didn’t even notice how he talked clean over them.
“To make her a ring! What does that have to do with marriage?!” Marty whisper yelled. They waved a hand to try and keep Arthur’s volume down too.
He whisper yelled in return “Everything! How could you possibly not know?!”
“Is this some sort of past tradition no one’s explained to me yet?”
“You’re telling me you don’t have wedding rings or engagement rings in the future?” Arthur finally caught his breath. A weird sense of relief went over him, and he sunk to the floor. Is this what a heart attack feels like?
“No rings, traditions kind of vary but no rings. Oh Gods, I’m so sorry I had no idea.” Marty reached out a hand to pick the man off the floor. Arthur gladly accepted and got back on his feet.
“No, that’s possibly more on me. I keep forgetting you’re new here,” he said. “There’s a saying about assumptions, making an ass out of you and me.”
Marty honest to Sol snickered at that. “Anyways. I need to get to Aoi with this. Thank you, again.”
“What are you making, then? If you don’t mind.”
“Hopefully, it’ll quiet things down for Eleanor.” Marty waved at Arthur, and made their way down to their resident metalworker.
The following morning, Arthur caught Marty walking towards Eleanor’s normal resting area. He steadily made his way nearby, doing his best to keep his thoughts as blank as possible. As he approached he could hear the ends of a sentence from Marty.
“...so I did some research, and found something which could help,” They opened their palm and in it sat a shining silver ring. “I’m not proposing!” They nearly yelped out. If Arthur didn’t know better he’d have assumed it was Amir speaking with how quick the words left Marty’s mouth. “It’s made of germanium. From what I’ve read online and in my own testing, it should either heavily restrict the range of your psychic abilities, or just turn them off entirely.”
While he couldn’t hear Eleanor’s response, he saw her go ramrod straight. Her eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. She looked between the ring and Marty rapidly. Her brow raised slightly in question.
“Yeah, go right ahead. Everyone helped, Quincy said you may appreciate a ring the most, Aoi clearly built it, I did the research, Lettie insisted on an engraving but wouldn’t tell me what it was, Amir kept you distracted- yes that was intentional…….. No I am not apologizing for subjecting you to 30 minutes of Caliber Chicks strategy…… Arthur helped with the sizing.”
Hearing only half the conversation was infuriating. He could only hope and pray that she didn’t figure out where the ring was. Gods that’d be an awkward conversation. He saw Eleanor pick up the ring, and in that singular moment her entire expression shifted. At the mere touch of the ring, Eleanor seemed to melt. Normally, she looked somewhat relaxed at all times. Now? He’d never seen his sister so completely zoned out. A euphoric smile spread across her face, her eyelids drooped downwards. She leaned back farther than Arthur thought possible on that couch. Tears began to stream down her face. Eleanor looked towards Marty silently.
“I can’t hear you, if you’re talking,” Marty knelt down to match her eye level. Eleanor pulled Marty into a deep hug.
Arthur thanked all the Gods, even ones he didn’t believe in that he heard his sister’s choked “Thank you.” It was the first time he’d heard her actual voice since Entrati. At the words he slapped a hand over his own mouth, as tears threatened to fall from his own face.
“You’re welcome, Eleanor,” Marty replied, softer than he’d heard them speak. A duvet cover from Egypt would be sandpaper in comparison.
Eleanor quickly brushed herself off, wiped her eyes, and grabbed a notepad. She quickly wrote something down and handed it to Marty. They scanned over the paper, eyes widened and nodded vigorously. “Understood, I’ll make sure no one bothers you.” The paper was quickly crumpled up and pocketed.
Eleanor once again hugged Marty, then dashed off to some unknown part of the mall. Arthur hid himself from his sister’s sight as she passed. He let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, and allowed himself to smile.
“Thank you,” Marty said to him, surprising the man from his trance. “For your help.”
Arthur shook his head. “No, I should be thanking you. You’ve helped us all so much. You’re truly something else, you know that?”
They smiled, it didn’t reach very high but he could tell it was there. “You’re welcome. Also don’t bother Eleanor for like, 30 minutes. Maybe an hour.”
Marty began to shuffle awkwardly and looked away. Arthur immediately understood and silently thanked them for not elaborating further. “So, I made you some food, actually. You’d mentioned you would eat it in cubes so, I did my best. It’s uh, spaghetti, if you know what that is.”
“I do not, but if it’s anything like the food I’ve seen so far, it’ll exceed my expectations,” Marty said, waving Arthur to show the way.
Things were a little brighter in the mall that day. Sometimes, despite everything, it all can work out.