Chapter Text
Heavy mist surrounded them, making their dramatic entrance slightly less dramatic and a tad more annoying than they’d originally planned.
Roland had fallen on his butt the second they’d been teleported in and Angelica couldn’t blame him — she would never get used to Iori’s… Transportation method, if one could call it that, and she’d used it more than once. Alas, no matter where Angelica was sent, she always ended up with a resented stomach, wasting minutes of her precious time attempting not to puke all over herself.
This time it was no different, though Angelica liked to think she’d mentally prepared herself for that sensation.
It was more upsetting than usual too, not that she needed to think about that.
Holding tightly onto her lower body, Angelica observed their surroundings as she waited for Roland to get off his seemingly unhurt ass.
Wherever they’d been sent — Iori had vaguely mentioned something about L. Corp.’s Nest, before practically shoving them into the portal — this building felt ancient. It wasn’t, not really, there was nothing indicating it hadn’t just appeared out of nowhere a second before they’d teleported in… But she couldn’t help but compare it with the couple descriptions Angelica had received of The Ruins, from a few acquaintances in that particular business.
The long, seemingly endless pillars around them, holding together an equally infinite amount of bookcases, filled to the brim and leaving no spaces empty only caused her to further believe they’d been sent outside the boundaries of The City.
Realistically that made little sense, which was the only reason she refused to believe it.
(She would not be sent outside again. She refused to go back there, alone or otherwise… At least until she finished what she had started with Roland.)
“Your Majesty…” Roland mumbled beside her, swiping his pants with his hands. “Any idea where we are?”
“I’d love to say ‘exactly where Iori sent us,’ but that doesn’t mean much, other than I don’t recognise this place at all.” Angelica sighed, finally beginning to feel like her stomach wouldn’t crawl out of her body through her mouth. “I don’t think we’re in District 9 anymore.”
“I would assume as much.” He sighed. “Vague as she usually is about her plans, it’s pretty obvious Iori sent us somewhere far from home.”
Angelica couldn’t help but shiver at that last word, uncomfortable to a degree she wasn’t sure how to express.
‘Home’ didn’t really exist for them anymore, in a sense. Going back to the house they’d shared, to the small place they’d carved for themselves in the world didn’t feel like returning home.
Lately she wasn’t sure if it ever would.
“Hey.” Roland put a hand on her lower back for support, almost making her jump at the contact — she’d not been expecting it. “Rica, are you alright?” He asked gently, not daring to touch her further, if only because the way her shoulders had tensed made it obvious he’d caught her by surprise.
“I… I’m not sure.” Angelica admitted, words stuttered softly, half-unintelligible. “I don’t like this.”
“To be honest, I don’t like it either.” He agreed immediately. “There’s something about the air here that’s just wrong.”
“Stale.”
“Hm.”
Before they could continue the reconnaissance of their surroundings, a figure appeared in front of them, heralded by the sound of snapping fingers. Angelica would’ve laughed at them, finding their get up absolutely ridiculous — she’d heard of dresses with feathers, but hardly any fully made out of them, — though she didn’t dare do so. Not out of fear per se, that was not a feeling she experienced often.
There was a vague something about the woman in front of them that was clearly unnerving, inhuman to its very core. Angelica couldn’t exactly put her finger on what, although it was as obvious to her as the continuous irritation the shortness of her own hair caused her.
“… I’ll only say this once.” The feather-clad woman spoke in an even, somewhat emotionless tone. “I despise verbose and roundabout speech that doesn’t get straight to the point. So don’t try to get wordy. Just answer my questions.”
Angelica and Roland couldn’t help but to look at each other for a moment, then back at their interlocutor. What she’d just said absolutely counted as a verbose and roundabout way of saying she wanted fast and simple answers. Well, maybe it was acceptable for her to act that way, while everyone else had to keep their quips to a minimum.
Hypocrite.
“You don’t get to question me, either.” The abnormally pale woman in front of them continued, uncaring for either of their expressions or reactions. “Where did you come from, how did you enter this place, and for what purpose?”
Yet again Angelica and Roland stared at each other, though far faster than the first time. They’d argued on some nebulous but credible excuse to give, in case they found themselves in this particular situation, before meeting with Iori that day… That didn’t mean this woman would believe them, or that this wouldn’t go sour immediately.
Roland rubbed the sole of his shoe on the floor awkwardly, trying his best to act like an innocent, virtuous man who’d clearly done nothing wrong, ever, in his entire life.
“Well, who are you to—” He allowed his body to ebb slightly to the left, seemingly lacking the ability to stand straight. “—Ugh, boy… I’m suddenly getting all nauseous…”
Whatever he would’ve said next was cut by the sound of meat and bone being sliced, Angelica’s eyes barely catching the movement in and of itself, unsure of what had done such damage to Roland in the first place. Blood gushed from the newly created wound, though it was also fair to say it was far more dramatic than just a wound; having an entire limb severed from your body was traumatic, whether you were used to it or not. She pushed herself on instinct towards Roland’s as he screamed in pain, rapidly growing afraid with the realisation that she didn’t know what to do.
First aid wasn’t exactly her forte, and this particular situation didn’t make it easy to concentrate
“Ahhhhhh! My leg!” Roland’s screeching echoed through the room, Angelica’s hands on his shoulders keeping him on his feet. Or rather foot.
“I warned you, and you crossed the line.” The pale woman said nonchalantly, like hers was a perfectly reasonable response to some mild irritation. “Let me ask you one more time. Where did you come from, how did you enter this place, and for what purpose?”
A growl reverberated in Angelica’s chest, accompanied by the sound of her grinding teeth, causing her upper body to tremble with barely contained rage as she tried to gently help Roland move into a more comfortable position, half-sitting on the floor. She continued to be unsure about what to do about his bleeding, she didn’t have much on her to stop it, and that was driving her faster into a panic than she’d wished to.
“Who do you think you are, you fucking—?!” Angelica bellowed as she turned around to face their interlocutor, once Roland was on the floor. Her own voice was ripped from her throat, just as fast as Roland’s had, by the pale woman; it was Angelica’s arm that had been sliced clean, rather than her leg, but it had about the same effect on her.
In normal circumstances this would’ve done nothing to Angelica. She’d suffered worse, more than once, and the smell of blood was somewhat comforting on occasion, if only as a reminder that she was still alive enough to bleed.
But now — after everything that had happened to bring her into this damned place, — she couldn’t think. Her body froze entirely, falling onto her knees while uncontrollable thoughts circled her mind. Angelica existed temporarily in a haze, filled with a song she wished to forget and the aroma of her own body disintegrating. Burnt skin and dissonant screams, twisted together with their owners’ own blood into an unrecognisable melody.
Her body had been there, for a second. It had disappeared along with her mind, cut into pieces that could barely be recovered, with what felt like half of her existence abandoned for the sake of keeping her alive.
She’d lost her future between the gore and rubble, she’d lost the dream of a home to come back to.
Although she wanted to puke again, her stomach was empty. All she could taste was her saliva, rapidly mixing up with bile and the vague memory of her own blood.
Angelica stared down at what was left of her arm, blood pouring from the end of her upper arm and pooling around her, mouth open as she breathed harshly through it. Each inhale torched her insides, slow and desperate for some cold respite. Hazily she could hear Roland still speaking, trying to explain what they were doing and why they were here… Or so she assumed. Angelica’s ears were ringing, blanketing every sound around her in constant static.
Another scream, again from Roland.
No matter how much she wished to move and check on him, Angelica simply couldn’t. Her body refused to even twitch, her mind refused to work — she was trapped in the rapidly all-consuming dread taking over every inch of her.
“I asked what your name was.” The pale woman’s voice came to Angelica from beyond the static, though barely so. Her eyes had been downcast the entire time, staring into the blood around her knees, and she could almost see reflected in her own cruor that their interlocutor was now standing to her left. “I said I asked your name.” She repeated, clearly losing what patience she already lacked.
“Her name is Angelica, leave her alo—Ahhhh!” Roland howled, his pain bringing unshed tears to Angelica’s eyes, though again the sound barely penetrated her brain as her vision rapidly blurred, turning dark.
As her upper body finally fell lifelessly, making a small splash against her own blood, Angelica continued to be vaguely aware of the ongoing conversation. It’d be shameful later, how she’d simply turned catatonic over something ridiculously easy to deal with, considering her experience and acumen, but at least Roland wouldn’t be holding it against her.
The last words she heard before passing out completely turned her blood even colder, if that was possible, the taste of copper overflowing on her tongue.
“Good. Welcome to The Library.”
The room they’ve been given to rest — one of the few benefits of their new co-Patron Librarian position — was fine. Nowhere near as cosy as their bedroom back home was, in Angelica’s opinion, but it was good enough. The attached ensuite bathroom was useful as well.
Perhaps if the atmosphere had been slightly less stale and heavy than the rest of The Library, she would’ve liked their quarters more. Then again, both of them had roomed in far more inauspicious places… In comparison to some of their experiences, this was not unlike the home they’d rented for their honeymoon.
Wings only knew how long they’d be staying, though Angelica hoped it wouldn’t be long, but maybe all the room needed to feel more familiar were some little touches, here and there.
A new set of sheets, their clothes thrown about, the smell of their shampoo. That sort of thing.
Something to worry about when Angelica wasn’t panicking, of course.
Even after taking a shower her body refused to stop shaking. This trembling was light by now, imperceptible enough to the untrained eye for it to be practically inconspicuous. Angela had not noticed it, which was what had mattered to Angelica the most not an hour ago.
She wasn’t about to give that feathery bastard more of an upper hand than she already had.
Angelica was staring at her reflected in the standing mirror located by one of the room’s corners, hair still wet, so intensely she only registered Roland standing beside her the moment he dared to touch her shoulder.
“Ah!” She hopped slightly to the side, shoulders pointed upwards, not unlike a scared cat. “Mister, was that necessary?!” Angelica glared at Roland, who’d yet to put on his clothes and appeared very much confused by her reaction.
“I called your name three times…” Roland pouted lightly. He had a towel around his shoulders, which he began using to dry his hair nonchalantly. “Do you want to tell me what’s wrong? You’ve been pretty quiet since we became acquainted with our new… Uh. Employer, I guess.”
“I’m not calling her that.” Angelica continued to frown, crossing her arms defensively over her chest, copying Roland’s pout.
“She’s the boss for now.” He shrugged. “We’ll see how that works for her, of course.”
“Of course~” Angelica repeated, smiling with teeth a bit too sharp, too beastly.
Carefully, the way one would approach an untamed, dangerous animal, Roland took one of Angelica’s hands in his own. He looked down at her fingers, the nakedness of them weirding both of them a little, and began massaging it with his other hand, soft caresses on its back.
“It wasn’t your fault.” Roland said, unprompted.
“That doesn’t mean it feels like it wasn’t.” Angelica’s free hand began pulling at the ends of her hair, barely touching her shoulders.
She missed the weight of her hair on her back. She missed all the weights she’d lost, that day.
Looking at herself in the mirror reminded her constantly of those losses, much like looking down at her severed arm a couple hours ago had — Angelica was trapped by those memories, and would be for the foreseeable future. Avoiding mirrors and the one who’d taken everything from her… Those weren’t really options, not for her.
Both her and Roland were trapped, in more ways than one, now that they’d thrown themselves into The Library.
What exactly was that old hag thinking? Angelica wasn’t sure, but she hardly understood how many steps ahead Iori was on a good day, and this was the opposite of those.
“Hey.” Roland called out to her gently, pressing a kiss to her forehead next. “Angelica, it’s okay.”
Angelica took a deep breath, anchoring herself in the moment. Slowly her shoulders relaxed, her body becoming boneless as she took a single step forwards, allowing Roland to hold her tightly.
“I’m tired.” She said, like it wasn’t the most obvious fact in the world for her husband.
“So am I.” He began rubbing her back in large circles, purposefully feeling the way her heart rate slowed down under the touch of his hands. “But we’re here, we have a more concrete plan.” They had something to look forward to. “We have each other, too… It’s going to be alright, Rica.”
“Hm…” Angelica hummed softly, resting her head on Roland’s naked chest.
Some days she wondered how she’d been able to find such a safe place to lay her head, to lay her body and heart — if perhaps she didn’t deserve that sense of safety, for she wasn’t always capable of offering the same in return.
(She wasn’t that far away from a rabid animal, barely contained, forever waiting for the first drop of blood to take the next bite.)
It felt unfair, simply put.
“How long do you think we’ll be stuck here?” Angelica grabbed the towel Roland had been using, which had been once again wrapped around his shoulders once he’d stopped drying his hair. “I don’t particularly like being at the beck and call of that… Woman.” She said the last word with a sort of disdain reserved only for the most annoying, utterly infuriating of human beings.
“Who knows?” Roland half-shrugged, arms now wrapped around Angelica’s midsection. “Hopefully not long enough for us to go insane.”
“Further insane.”
“I guess, yeah, I guess it’d be further…”
They stared at each other gracelessly, what was now Angelica’s towel covering most of her head. This lasted for about half a minute, both of them eventually breaking into uncontrollable snickering, which rapidly transformed into full belly laughter.
At this point a little insanity — or a lot — was the least of their problems.
“Point is, we’re going to be okay.” Roland smiled, taking the towel off Angelica’s hair, not before rubbing it until it was properly dry. He always complained she did a half-assed job at it. “You’re not alone here, Rica. You’ll always have me, no matter what.”
The simplicity of those words always left her a tad breathless. When they first started dating, even though she’d been the one to push for their relationship to exist, Angelica couldn’t help but feel like Roland always activated her fight-or-flight response with words like those. It was a tad shameful to admit, but she was weak and fragile in the places where it mattered most, when truly alone in a room together.
More so lately, when Angelica felt like nothing more than a facsimile of herself; her identity lost in the same unrecognisable pile of gore where her dreams of a family had ended.
Roland’s solid body, always there, always close enough to touch, was a reminder that she’d survived. Constantly holding Angelica together, when the seams of her heart threatened to be pulled into nothingness.
“I know.” Angelica said, eventually, and she meant it. “Gotta do it one step at a time too, right? Can’t be trying to… Speed this up.”
“Nah, we’re bidding our time.” Roland kissed her on the cheek, right under her left eye. “Taking that into account, let’s get some sleep. I feel like we’re going to need it.”
“This is nothing like one of our usual jobs… Taking it easy might be for the best, for now.” She agreed, pressing her body against Roland’s side as he walked both of them towards the bed, one arm wrapped tightly over Angelica’s shoulders.
They were both strong, far more than they might’ve felt in that moment. Surviving this would be easy, compared to everything else they’d gone through.
“Should we do something about this?”
“I dunno, to be honest…”
Angelica continued to observe the scene in front of them, half-hidden behind a column and partially on top of Roland, her chest pressed right on the back of his neck. He’d originally complained about the weight, which he’d received a light slap on the butt for, before they’d been distracted by the ongoing argument they were staring at.
They’d expected new people to join them soon enough, perhaps a tad faster than it had happened — Angelica understood very little of how The Library actually worked, and Angela had not been particularly forthcoming on the details yet, but if they were going to be dealing with as many guests as she’d implied they would be needing far more manpower than what they currently had. Either way, the idea that whoever was to eventually work with them wouldn’t like entertaining Angela’s general presence had not crossed Angelica’s mind.
She’d assumed everyone here wanted the same thing as her, and seeing the woman in charge of this new floor more or less scream at her clearly told a different story.
This wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, of course. Whether or not Angela had… Supporters among her own ranks, so to speak, was still something to be seen, but dissent and vitriol this visible could be extremely useful to them.
It all depended on what exactly Angela and the other Patron Librarians were in disagreement about.
“Do you think they’ll all be this… Upset?” Roland mumbled, making sure they wouldn’t be seen or heard — not that such efforts were necessary. Between the screaming and the general atmosphere, only a person uninterested in the current conflict would’ve taken notice of their presence.
“No idea.” Angelica shrugged, almost wishing she could laugh at the scene in front of them. “It would be funny, if there was someone this willing to scream at Angela in charge of every floor, wouldn’t it be, Mister?”
“It… Would get a little tedious after a while, I think.” Roland smiled anyway, clearly imagining it. “But I think I’d find it entertaining all the same.”
“That’s the spirit~”
A couple more incensed back and forths later, Angela left the newly opened Floor of History, leaving Angelica and Roland there to pick the pieces of her absolutely atrocious conversation.
The newly appointed Patron Librarian, loud animosity at their Director aside, seemed nice enough, in Angelica’s opinion. She looked relatively young, at least enough for Angelica to be her senior — not that this was especially difficult, most of the time. Once her shoulders had dropped and most of her acrimony began seeping out of her body, it appeared like she found herself lost, unsure of what would be her next step.
Obviously this was the proper moment for Roland and her to make a polite entrance, mayhaps offer some emotional support. Angelica had to admit she wasn’t the type to do so, but working with Roland more than once had taught her that fostering positive interpersonal relationships, in these sorts of situations, was quite useful.
Again, all this indignation inside The Library, if the other Patron Librarians shared it, could be very serviceable for their long term plans.
Roland had considered this possibility when the first assistant librarians began popping up, also somewhat uncomfortable in Angela’s presence in a not-so-dissimilar way their new coworker was.
Someone in charge of a Floor had a lot more leverage than a simple assistant though.
“Angela just left.” Roland mumbled, moving away from the column. “I think it’s time for us to make an entrance.”
“Agreed.” Angelica nodded.
They approached the new librarian carefully, assuming they’d not been seen until now. Roland tried to act nonchalant, though not outright dismissive, while Angelica followed him half a step behind him, purposefully offering a far more gentle expression. People experienced with Fixers very easily realised she was not to be trifled with, but if their target was ever ignorant in regards to such things… This sort of disposition was ultimately useful, in those cases.
“Damn, that was tense.” Roland said, once they were close enough.
“Hello there, I’m the Patron Librarian in charge of The Floor of History…” She made a short pause, perhaps for dramatic effect. “Malkuth!” At least someone was excited, even with such an awkward mood.
“Good to see you’re the lively type.” Angelica smiled at her, the kind of grin that always won her over the non-Fixers in the room.
“Yeah, good someone seems lively around here.” Roland nodded. “What was going on just now?”
“I have some unfinished business with Angela.” Malkuth said, her shoulders dropping slightly. She looked to the side for a moment, maybe thinking back to this ‘unfinished business’ in question, before continuing. “You probably heard bits of it, but… I have no choice but to follow her orders, no matter how I feel.”
Ah, so she was in the same position as them.
“We’re in the same shoes as you! Though we seem to have ended up here for different reasons.” Roland relaxed his stance further, in his best imitation of a friendly butler. “So, is there anything my beloved wife and I can do for you?”
“Wife?” Malkuth blinked, her eyes moving between Roland and Angelica for a couple seconds, before nodding in understanding. It was possible that she’d question how they’d ended up here — together, specifically — later. “… You can bring me books, both of you. Since I’m in charge of The Floor of History, I’ll be sorting the books you bring and collecting those that are about history!”
Angelica had to admit two things. First, it was kind of endearing to hear someone be that excited about books; Malkuth’s attitude was, beyond charming, sort of contagious in a way she wasn’t used to. And second, though no less important, having so many books at hand was sort of… Dreamy. Angelica was mostly interested in poetry, but if anything this was an opportunity to expand her horizons a bit.
“Us librarians will then read the collected books, gradually making our floors whole and completing The Library itself as an extension.” Malkuth continued. “And we’ll naturally get to unlock more floors and awaken their Patron Librarians in the process!”
“Makes sense to me.” Angelica shrugged. “I hope I can take a peek at those books myself, if there’s no problem with that?”
“I don’t see why not, ma’am!”
“Wait, so the other librarians are asleep?” Roland asked, before either Angelica or Malkuth could say anything more.
“Yep, they are!” Malkuth rapidly answered, with a little nod for emphasis.
“I think we get the gist of it.” Roland looked at Angelica, who nodded at him as well. “You’re surprisingly bright for someone who was so upset moments ago, by the way.”
“Don’t tell me you were worried we’d be dealing with that wrath, Mister… That’s a little rude of you.” Angelica giggled, pinching Roland’s cheek, stretching it lightly, only to receive a soft slap on her hand.
“Ow, ow, ow… That was unnecessary~” He whined, clearly exaggerating — though there was a small red mark where Angelica had nipped him.
“Please, neither of you have to worry! I can’t let my personal affairs get in the way of work now!” Malkuth tried to sound reassuring, but Angelica recognised a light, barely perceptible undercurrent of anger in her voice. “I still have my problems with Angela, but it’s not like getting mad about it will do me any good. I’ve got my own reasons to do my best with this work, too!”
“Okay, then~ Let’s give it our best shot.” Roland grinned.
“You can count on us from now on, Malkuth~” Angelica did the same, offering Malkuth a gentle but firm pat on the shoulder.
“Yeah!”
In the darkness of their bedroom, curled around one another in bed, Roland couldn’t help but think back to the events of that last two weeks.
He’d been expecting to do… Regrettable things. Far more so than what they’d done before Iori offered them a one way ticket to The Library, but he’d not been expecting someone as green as Finn to get an invitation.
“Mister, you’re thinking of things.” Angelica mumbled against his neck, poking the opposite side with her index finger. Their chests were comfortably pushed together, constant awareness of their heartbeats only natural. “It’s worrisome when you do~” There was a light pout in her tone.
“I thought thinking of things is what one is supposed to do—” Roland began, only to be interrupted by Angelica pinching his cheek. “—Ow, ow! I get it, I get it, geez…” A sigh. “I guess I’m thinking about the other day.” He finished, grabbing Angelica’s hand by the wrist and pulling it away before she continued with her uninterrupted attack on his skin.
“That Finn kid, you mean?” She asked, like it wasn’t quite obvious what he’d meant.
“Yeah… I wasn’t expecting someone so… I dunno.”
“Inexperienced?”
“Yeah.” Another sigh, louder this time. Roland didn’t mean to sound tired so early on in their little scheme, he needed to get used to this new routine of theirs, but that kid barely counted as a Fixer in his eyes. “If nothing else, I feel sorry he had to work under someone like that Yun guy… Even my first boss wasn’t that much of a dick.”
“You never liked working under other people, except maybe Charles.” Angelica pointed out, covering his mouth as she giggled. Roland did have a tendency to complain about their employers, and he’d never lasted long in Fixer offices.
Part of that was his tendency to find better positions, once he’d gained the necessary experience and Grades — the other part was being relatively antisocial. Although Angelica could hardly comment on that matter, she was worse than him.
“Calling the invitations fairer than what’s on the outside… What bullshit.” Angelica chuckled darkly, her voice dropping slightly as she continued speaking. “Like it gives more of a choice to those coming in, than the rest of The City does.”
“Little girls trying to wash their hands off their own crimes make excuses for anything, you know.” Roland tried not to sound as upset as he felt, only half-succeeding.
“Angela is far more naïve than you would expect. I’ve got to wonder how that happened… Even if you’ve never been in The City proper, you’re either rich or stupid to avoid realising everyone is just using each other.” Angelica couldn't help but roll her eyes. “There’s a lot of things that I don’t think add up…”
“I’m not sure either, but don’t get too angry too soon, or she’ll notice why we’re here, Rica~” Roland said, in a sing-song tone that would’ve annoyed her had the conversation been about anything else. “She’s obviously inexperienced, but I’m not sure she’s that dumb.”
“Yeah, yeah…” A long, drawn out sigh. “At least that Yun man got what he deserved, maybe?” Angelica shrugged, not all that interested. She moved closer, their legs becoming entangled, her chest rubbing against Roland’s own in the process. “Besides, it’s only natural we’re fighting small fries and the like. This place isn’t even an Urban Legend.”
She had quite the point. Until The Library climbed up its own rank within The City, they would be dealing with what amounted to the bottom of the barrel for quite some time. Lacking the gloves made those fights a tad more complicated, along with Angela’s own limitations on the combat, but they weren’t so complex that both of them wouldn’t need to play up being somewhat incompetent — or in need of practice, if nothing else, — for the time being.
That and she’d forced them to not be on The Stage at the same time either. Roland hardly understood the reason, perhaps Angela wasn’t so dumb that she didn’t recognise a decently powerful Fixer when they walked in, even if she couldn’t fully judge the true extent of their abilities.
“It was pretty surprising how affected Angela looked, about those Brotherhood of Steel guys.” Angelica said fully unprompted, turning slightly so her back was resting against the mattress. “She clearly doesn’t have a human body, not with that skin of hers… No blood under that dermis.” She smirked. “Shouldn’t she be used to that kind of thing already?
“I mean, I sort of get it.” Roland shot back immediately, staring down at Angelica, and she returned the look with a certain edge of curiosity to her expression. “Imagine changing your entire body to the point you didn’t look like yourself and couldn’t eat or drink… I’m not sure what her deal is, beyond not being fully human, but if Angela doesn’t know about replacement bodies at all, I think we can safely assume she’s had hers since birth.”
“Not eating would suck.” Angelica pouted. “There’s supposedly some new bodies that turn food into biofuel these days, and come with olfato-gustative modules as well.” She pointed out, lightly rubbing the tip of her fingers up and down one of Roland’s arms.
“Like those guys could afford a replacement like that~” He pouted as well, in the exact same way Angelica did. “Anyway, no matter how you slice it, we’ve dealt with nothing but two-bit Fixers and wannabe Syndicates at this point…”
“Maybe we should enjoy it while we can.” Angelica chuckled, sounding surprisingly gentle for such dark thoughts. “After all, it’s only going to get worse. We might end up fighting some Associations… Imagine if The Head walked in too?”
“Wings and Gods of The City, I do hope it never gets to that.” Roland didn’t even want to think about it. “If we’re lucky enough this won’t last more than a couple months… The gloves are going to be another story, though.”
“I miss them.” Angelica turned her head to the side, purposefully away from Roland’s gaze. She didn’t like talking about giving them up to Hana, didn’t like the fact that they could take her Colour away from her like it’d meant nothing — Angelica had her issues with Hana, more than a few of them at that, but she held a certain pride about her work… Or at least about her ability to survive in The City.
(Roland had yet to forgive Olivier for forcing them to give them up as well, though he also understood that he’d simply been doing his job, making this quite the contentious topic.)
“Do you like our current company?” Roland questioned, pinching Angelica lightly on her upper arm, hoping the change in topic would lighten the mood slightly. “They seem nice enough.”
“The assistant librarians are kinda cute, like lost chicks.” Angelica mumbled, rolling around so as to have her face resting right on Roland’s chest. “And Malkuth’s fine, she’s been quite charming so far.”
“I have the feeling she’d sell us for corn chips if she had a reason to, though.”
“Oh, absolutely… But I think that’s what makes her fun too!” Angelica laughed. “I have to appreciate someone with an attitude like hers~ It’s also pleasant having someone who dislikes Angela as much as us around, makes it slightly less annoying that we can’t openly complain about her.”
“We better not start spilling the beans to her, that’d be way too irresponsible.” Roland rolled his eyes, snuggling closer to Angelica, his head pressed against the top of her head.
“No, no. That’d be going too far.” She agreed. “Perhaps she’ll be willing to help, depending on how much chaos Angela causes.”
“Perhaps.”
Having more people on their side could only help, though Roland wasn’t about to let his guard down, whether Malkuth had more than a couple bones to pick with Angela or not. All of them being trapped, yet having a completely different set of reasons for it, meant that their interests could vary and exist perfectly parallel to each other — it was far too early to know if Malkuth, or the other Patron Librarians once they’d awoken, would support Angelica and her plan.
For now they were temporary, generally affable allies and that was more than enough.