Twig

File 14: Operation Shell pt.1

"Yes. I copy," Twig grumbled, the flame in his hands snuffed out. 

-We're going to need you to create a distraction. Blossom is struggling.- 

"I was already going to do that," Twig stated in a sing-song tone of irritation. 

-Still, make sure to grab the fish too.- 

"Will do," Twig ended, taking more steps towards the center of the chamber. 

The flame reignited around his fists, and those damn antlers were peeking their shiny heads again. He lowered himself down and began to draw a circle around the inner of the floor, a good foot away from the hectas' pools. As his fingers grazed the stone, they left a thick line of glowing gold ink in their wake. He finished his circle as his antlers matured larger. 

Twig took a deep breath in, running his hands through his hair until they were gone again. "Just one time without ruining shit...Please?" he begged his magic. 

In response the golden apparition in his blood spat in his face. 

"Damn..." he mumbled, "What did I do? Forget an anniversary or something?" 

The child-like being he was speaking to took control of his magical prosthetic. He deserved the slap to the face. 

"Alright, alright. I'm sorry. I'll let you out after this." That seemed to make it chill out enough. Twig rubbed his hands together until they ignited again. 

Stepping inside of the circle, he began to make a mandala of different sharp runes. Some larger than others. In the very center was the largest rune he had scribed in a long time. It was just as sharp as he was used to, just much, much bigger. A summoning spell, if you will...

Once it was finished, he stepped out of the circle to add more to the spires and peaks of the ritual. Before he finished the last sharp line etching into the stone, he looked up at the doorway. There was no one present. 

He groaned, "Are you seriously making me do this?"

Still, no one. 

With a teenage complaint, Twig aggressively finished the rune. The markings in the floor began to shine like individual rays of light. Getting brighter and brighter until it created a golden mist in the chamber. 

Twig looked to the door again...Nobody. 

He rolled his eyes as his prosthetic thumb became a blade. Standing in the center of the circle, he brought the blade to his palm. Peeking at the doorway once more. Much to his disappointment, there was still no one there. He sighed, bringing his gaze back to his palm. 

With a sharp graze, Twig slid the blade across his ashy palm to make a thin slice. He glanced at the door through the corner of his white eye as his blood beaded in his palm. The wound closed itself before he even noticed that, again, there was no person to stop him. 

"Mate, what the fuck," he complained, making a deeper cut into his skin. He held the knife in his hand for longer, feeling that uncomfortable sensation of having something in your skin without having the ability to feel the pain. Finally taking it out with a new coating of gold. Rivers of riches began to pool in his palm, trying to flow down his forearm when- 

"Erik Feckin' Alson?!"

The man smiled, clenching his fist. The runes stopped glowing and swiftly began to fade into nothingness. He turned to face the door, "You're a tad late, I reckon." 

Standing in the obliterated doorway was a woman about Erin's height. She had fluffy dirty blonde hair held back with a clip, her bare arms and neck covered in different scars. She wore a vest-like top and flowy cargo shorts, as well as waterproof combat sneakers. Her face was rounder, covered with freckles and sun damage to the point where she had tanned to become the color of creamed coffee, her eyes were a calm gray color. 

"What the shit are you doing here?" She yelled with a crooked smile on her face. 

Erik wiped his blood on his pants, knowing the wound had already healed. "Your Daddy wanted someone to test your security. It's rather rubbish," he commented, swiping hair out of his face. 

"Whitey, bring it in, Mate!" Kiwi laughed, holding her arms out for a hug. What kind of friend would he be to refuse her offer?

He eyed that pin holding her hair up with the clip as they embraced. It felt nice to see her again. But he wished it was on better terms. As soon as Erik touched the dragon scale hair pin of hers, he felt something sharp poke into his traps. 

Something like a knife being held to his back. 

"Did that damn war make you go delusional?" Kiwi snapped right in his ear at a dangerous tone, "What in the name of magic do you think you're doing?" 

Erik pouted childishly, "I can't go one mission without having to kill for what I want, eh?" 

Word Count: 2810

Broskis, I don't have an author's note for this one. I had a birthday party tonight, and the amount of sugar I consumed- I have another party I have to go to tomorrow, I'm honestly worried that this amount of sugar will bring me to death. I need to stop. 

<Goodbye>