D got to his knees and stood up from the now slightly wet floor. His mouth reflexively went into some ramble about how sorry he was to Flynn, but if he was being honest, he didn't know a single word he said.
He supposed it wasn't because he didn't care, but this had been the same guy who tried to con him and Max out of forty dollars just to get into this stupid party.
Flynn just stood there wiping the liquid off of himself, the same pissed off look on his face, after a few seconds of watching Flynn check his shirt, his pants, and most importantly, his hair.
D figured he was good to go off somewhere, anywhere else. As long as it was far away from the white-haired asshole standing in front of him
"Again, man, sorry about that. I'm just gonna go--" He pointed behind himself with his thumb to the large window that had a view of the group of people on the back porch. As he turned to walk away, Flynn gripped his shoulder with enough force to stop him cold.
Despite Flynn's pissed off eyes, his mouth curled into a too-wide smile as he said, "Imagine you're at a party, right?" His grip on D's shoulder tightened. "Your little sister's party, to be exact, and some lower track piece of freshman trash throws his drink on you".
Sensing where this was going, D put up his hands in a show of innocence, "Look, man, I didn't throw my drink on you. You just weren't watching where you were going". The words left his lips too fast for him to realize what he'd said till it was far too late.
"Oh, so I wasn't watching where I was going?" Flynn's other hand pushed into D's chest, shoving him out of his grasp. The slight blow made a slight crack in D's conflict-avoidant attitude, and he felt his fists tighten.
"No, you weren't, but if I pay you twenty dollars, will you stay out of my way?"
The look in Flynn's crimson eyes went from slightly pissed to absolutely livid. "You think I could get in your way?" He let out a cold, harsh laugh. "Someone like you shouldn't even be here!" His yell barely overcame the music playing from the speakers in the living room.
"Oh yeah? Your sister didn't seem to mind, guess being an asshole isn't hereditary, huh?"
The group of people sat on the couch and slowly stopped watching the game on TV. Their eyes drifted to the confrontation one by one. One of them even started recording.
"She doesn't shit about this place, and neither do you". Flynn's eyes began to glow - fiery rubies piercing through the dim lights of the party. "Maybe it's time you learn".
D reflexively tried to take another step back away from him. He knew this shit had finally gone too far if this guy was seriously going to try to fight him right here, right now. Maybe he could diffuse this situation peacefully; he owed it to Max to give it one more shot.
He looked around for something that could help him calm Flynn down. That's when his eyes flicked to the refreshment table. "Look, how about I just get us some more drinks and--" He took a step towards the table, but oddly felt as if he didn't get any closer to it.
He tried another step, and another, but still stood in the same spot. Flynn just stood there, a devilishly wide smile across his face.
D looked down at his hands, wondering if he'd been drugged by whatever Izzy gave him. When he saw a large red arrow plastered across his chest.
"Aw fuck-"
The arrow yanked him down to the floor with enough force to take down someone of Max's size. His breathing went ragged as he tried to force himself up despite the force.
He slowly pulled his knees and hands under his body, and started to get up when Flynn placed his boot on his head and slowly forced him back down.
"Y'see that's the problem with you freshmen". He took his black boot off D's head and slowly walked around to his side. "You all think you're 'Big Man on Campus' when you're barely out of the kiddie pool".
He kneeled down and slapped D across his back, instantly forming another bright red arrow on him.
It took D an immense amount of force to lift his head from the floor. With his mouth free from the plush brown carpet, he looked up at Flynn, as a familiar feeling of rage bubbled to the surface.
He yelled with all the force he could muster, "You think I give a shit about your made-up rules?" Flynn just looked down at him, same smile on his face as he took a step back.
"You finding it hard to stand henchy? Here I gotcha". Flynn snapped his fingers, and D shot from the floor up to the ceiling in an instant. The slam knocked all the wind from D's lungs as he lay there like a fly on sticky paper.
"I...am going to...kick your...ass". D strained to form any words against the wall of force pinning him to the ceiling.
Flynn just laughed, a laugh so genuine he felt like his gut would bust. "It's just not sinking in, is it? Guess Henchs aren't really known for intelligence, eh?"
He was so caught up in the torment that he didn't hear the back door open and see who was making her way through the kitchen.
The figure leaned against the doorway between the dining room and kitchen, a look of slight amusement on her pale face.
D's eyes went wide with fear and recognition, and Flynn knew that it wasn't directed at him.
He turned and saw Spire leaning against the doorframe, checking her freshly painted nails in a show of aloofness.
"Clea! When did you get here?" In an instant, his demeanor had gone from feral and arrogant to nervously excited.
She sighed, stopped checking her nails, and slowly trailed her eyes to him. "I've been here, Flynn, you must've been too busy stuffing your nose and veins to notice, hmm?"
"Oh, c'mon", Flynn said as he threw his hands behind his head and slid a bit closer to her. "You know I don't do that stuff anymore, I've been clean for months.
Flynn had fully turned his back on D now, seemingly completely caught up in his desperate drug-free pitch. D looked down at the arrow keeping him suspended. He wondered if that bastard hadn't touched his skin when applying it on purpose.
He figured that, after his stunt on the roof and his fight with Scarlett, keeping his powers a secret had gone out the window.
Noticing that Flynn was distracted, he slowly pulled his hand to his chest.
Fighting against the force took every drop of strength he had left in his body. His biceps flexed and ached as he made one final pull and ripped his hand from the ceiling onto his chest.
The arrow on his chest from Flynn's first assault felt like pure static in his hands. He felt his glow consume the energy of it like a savage beast deprived of nutrients, till the arrow had completely faded.
With one final push, he formed his fingers into the same snapping position as Flynn's and let out a loud, crisp snap.
D immediately fell to his feet with a thud that was neatly muffled under the roar of the speakers. In a rage, he picked up one of the metal plates holding finger foods for the table and launched it at Flynn.
In an instant, D appeared behind him, like an angel of vengeance out of some sort of myth. The cracking sound of the metal tray meeting the back of Flynn's head cut above the music only for an instant, before fading into the rhythm.
Flynn's body instantly flew to the side, the force of the blow knocking him out cold.
D couldn't help laughing at the slumped-over figure. He yelled, "How's that for intelligent?" Before throwing the metal sheet back onto the table.
Before he could even think twice about it, he knelt down and slapped a hand onto Flynn's chest. The red arrow that formed pointed up. D looked down at his hands, noting that he'd meant for it to point forward. Nonetheless, he stood over Flynn's unconscious body and snapped his fingers. Sending him right up to the ceiling.
D let out a decompressing sigh, and tried to steady his breathing a beat. He knew Clea was there, watching him the whole time, but he didn't feel like acknowledging her just yet.
He walked back over to the refreshment table and poured himself another drink to replace the one that had splashed over Flynn. He took a sip and crinkled his nose at the tart flavor. He supposed he wasn't as good a mixologist as Izzy, so he set the sour drink down and turned.
He met Clea's familiar icy gaze, but instead of meeting them with shock and horror, there was a look of determination in his eyes.
He spoke just loud enough to be heard over the music. "Kinda fucked y'know", he gestured up to the suspended Flynn. "Letting your buddy get his lights knocked out, and not saying a word".
She let out a singular chuckle and pushed off the door frame, striding into the living room. Her eyes were on the aforementioned Flynn.
"Flynn's more of an occasional annoyance than friend, I suppose". She said, not a sign of remorse or kinship on her face.
D had noticed she was without her trademark weapon and decided to push his luck even further. "Oh right, cause why would you, of all people, have any friends?"
She stepped closer to him and took a seat in one of the chairs around the table. "Friends are really nothing but liabilities waiting to happen".
"You realize you are at a party? right?" He raised his arms, signaling to the room around them. "You're at a party, just to say friends are useless? Why even come?".
Her mostly expressionless face snapped into a predator's glare. "I am allowed the same freedom as everyone, is that a problem?"
The look in her eyes made him weigh his words carefully in his mind before they reached his lips. "Do what you want, just quit following me around".
She broke out into raucous laughter and covered her mouth with her hand. D clenched his fist under the table so tight that his knuckles whitened. This woman, who had been the poster child for the last two days' worth of his suffering, was laughing in his face.
"You think I'm here to follow you?" She leaned back in her chair and looked him deep in the eyes. "The only reason I even knew you were here is because of-" She leaned to the left and pointed past him at the people seated on the couch. Who had no doubt been recording his fight with Flynn and sending it to people.
"I am at this party for the reason anyone our age goes to a party". Without warning, she grabbed the drink from his hands and drank all of it in a near instant, and crushed the cup.
He was utterly speechless.
"You see this place as a prison, but it's a sanctuary for our kind. Partaking in the fun is par for the course".
D felt as if he would flip the entire table and launch himself upon her. The only thing holding him back was knowing she was fully capable of putting him down, even without her blade.
"Oh, do sanctuaries make people nearly kill each other for some stupid rank? I must've missed that". She sat there for a long moment, almost like his words had made her take pause. His muscles tensed more and more the longer he sat across from her. Yet she just sat there with an expression of poise and control.
The fact that she acted like she hadn't threatened to kill him earlier that day only made him want to rip out her throat even more.
"Blackthorn is mere child's play compared to what the real world is like."
Did he hear a bit of anger in her voice? It was only for a moment, but he swore something darker broke through her expression. He scooted back from her a bit. Telling himself it was out of caution, not fear, but he knew the truth.
"Yeah, ordering some poor girl to attack me is child's play." He stood up from his chair; he had to get away from this psycho. "You're fucking sick-"
She stood up from her chair as well, any bit of pretend friendliness gone from her expression. "You question what I did, but how about what you did?"
"What the fucking did? I defended myself, that's what!" Memories of his ruthless brawl with Scarlett on that beach ached like fresh wounds.
"You did a lot more than fight back." She pointed at his chest, almost poking it with her long finger. "What would've happened to Ms. Hemlock if I hadn't stepped in, hmm?
This is why she was here, wasn't it, to fucking torment him over what he'd done. She had to be doing this on purpose, he thought. She had to know that he'd want revenge, and maybe she was goading him into it.
He tried to calm his breathing. He wanted to quiet his rising anger; he couldn't go wild like that again.
"Nothing would've happened...what happened to her anyway?" He let his tone and his eyes convey the seriousness of his question. "You kill her?" The
silence that hung between them was almost palpable.
Finally, she softly asked, "What would you do if I had?"
"I guess I'd kill you". The words came out of his mouth before he had time to consider them. He knew the words were true, some of the truest he'd ever said, but she wasn't supposed to hear them.
She just laughed, a cold laugh that grated on his bones like an ice-covered dagger. Her eyes, which usually sat expressionless, were full of challenge.
He didn't know when or how, but he swore one day he would make her eat that challenge. He let out a sigh and walked away from the table towards the living room. Suddenly, she called out to him.
"Mr. Cross", and despite every bone in his body telling him not to turn around, he did.
"Just so you know, Ms. Hemlock is alive and well. Maybe you'll see her again soon." She began pouring herself yet another drink as he stormed off into the party.
'Maybe I'll see her soon? Her psycho ass would like to see that' he thought as he climbed up the stairs into the hallway. He just needed to find where Max was and get the hell out of here before Flynn woke up.
But as he took a few more steps through the hallway, he felt something primal awaken in his body. An ancient urge that all people are called to eventually, and must always obey.
And that urge was to find the nearest bathroom.