The Sounds of Minds

Puck straightened at what James had said. It was something that hit surprisingly close to home, though he tended to have the opposite approach. This was one of his more closely guarded secrets - Pres might have suspected it, but he would never burden him with something like that. But even as he thought to himself that he would never let anyone ever know, he found that he was opening his mouth to utter the secret he kept so close to his heart.

"I'm almost always pretending," Puck admitted. "It's not that hard. All I need is a smile and a little bit of joy to my voice, and everyone is convinced that everything is perfectly fine. It never is, but I can't...I can't let them know that even I'm not alright. Everyone I know is miserable. I'm miserable. Someone's got to crack a joke and lighten things up. And if both Pres and I are feeling down, who can lead the club? He hasn't even been around for a century. If I'm not 'perfectly' fine, Pres will have to pretend to be and that's not alright. He doesn't deserve that."

“No one deserves that,” James said, before he could even think to say it. “Or- well, hell if I’m to say what anyone deserves but, damn if you think you have to carry that burden yourself. If you have friends who actually care about you and actually want to know how you’re feeling then damn well take advantage of that. Not everyone has the privelige to have close companions with which to share their burdens. If you’ve been so deceived to think that you are strong enough to carry it all on your own, then you are thoroughly deceived.” He looked down into his lap, turning the knife the racoon had nabbed around in his hands. “... hell... I should know that,” he muttered under his breath. “I’ve been doing that for years and it damn well ruins you as a person. Learn from my mistakes...” he flicked some dirt out of the ground with his knife. “...Puck.”

He looked up to Puck, eyes intense beneath his thick brows. “If we’re being real and honest? Fine. I’ll be honest. Keeping it all inside is the quickest way to self destruction and bitterness. So if you don’t want to end up alone, even in the midst of others, don’t be afraid to be open and authentic. If it took us getting here to even be that - involuntarily so, of all things - then obviously we all have issues with vulnerability and authenticity. But...” he stabs his knife in the ground, frustrated as his words have run away with him. He wasn’t used to soeaking his thoughts before he figured out where he wanted them to end.

“All I mean to say is be real with your friends,” he muttered in a huff of frustration. “Then maybe they’ll feel safe enough to be real with you too.”

"Jokes on you," Puck said, leaning back and looking up at the leaves of the enormous tree they were under. "I'm already alone, even in the 'midst of others', as you put it. Pres has been in a coma for nearly a week now, and nothing I do can get him out of it. I've taken up the name he was using - Dresden - and I've been trying to track down the one guy who might have something to do with this, but I've had to work with this absolutely disgusting magician and his spirit. And I could never tell them the truth, because one's a magician and the other's probably been ordered to tell him things exactly like that. So, yeah, I'm already alone. And there's nothing I can do about it until I get my hands on Cassius Jones."

Finch sat quietly and listened to this exchange. He had convinced himself a long time ago that the only company he needed was himself. And, of course, Gem, but that was later on. As long as he kept up with mischief, he didn't have time to be lonely- that was his reasoning. He opened his mouth to say something like this, but what came out were his true feelings, which he had hardened himself to for years.

"I've spent my life alone, surrounded by people. Sometimes I tell myself that if no one around me wants to kill me, I'm having a pretty good day, but-" he spluttered a little, surprised at his own words, "really, the truth is that I've never learned how to let people in or care for them... much less have friends. I wish that I could sympathize about your partner's situation, but honestly the only loss that I've felt is the loss of growing up with without anyone to teach me how to love."

He pulled a disgusted face at his sappy monologue, dipping his head down so that he wouldn't have to make eye contact. An unfamiliar stinging came to his eyes, and with surprise, he reached up to feel them. They were wet.

Kratzer was speaking before he had time to stop himself. His initial frustration gave way to submission: he couldn't stop it, nor could anyone else. "Is there anyone among us who hasn't survived long enough to truly understand what it is to be alone?"

Puck opened his mouth. He was going to comment on how it was clear that they had all been through tough times and were very alone, something that he would have likely said if he wasn't compelled to tell the truth. But before he could get a single word out, there was a sudden crashing noise from the other side of the tree, and a loud groan that followed it.

He wasn't getting a good feeling about this, even before he got to his feet and started to head towards the apparent newcomer. It sounded suspiciously like armor hitting the ground, and the groan had sounded frustratingly familiar. He turned around the tree and looked down at who had arrived. He was a giant of a man, going by his entirely black armor alone - obsidian, Puck was sure. A pair of red pinpricks groggily stared up at the tree branches above him in the place of normal eyes. When he finally rose, he towered over Puck, and the body Puck was in wasn't a small one.

"Oh, this is just great!" Puck exclaimed. "I can't control what I say and you have to show up! This is just fine and dandy. Now you're going to learn my true name and all about the math club because I can't keep my stupid mouth shut-"

He clamped a hand over his mouth, eyes widening in horror when he had already said too much. Raptor was a magician. A terrible one, from the little he had seen of him. Forget the problems with him figuring out that Dresden was actually a spirit - he was the one of the worst possible people to learn about the math club! He was the type of guy the club was supposed to take care of, and if he found out all about it - about where it was, what they really did, and who their leaders were - they would be in more trouble than Puck could possibly fathom.

"Dresden, what are you talking about?" Raptor asked. He looked around them, then back at Puck. His voice was loud, intimidating and very British. A terrifying combination for someone so villainous. "Where is this place? How did we get here? It was Bartimaeus, wasn't it? Of course he'd bring me to somewhere else, that annoying-"

The red pinpricks of light in his helmet narrowed. "Why am I asking all of these questions? I was just thinking them to myself-Hey! Why am I still talking? I don't want to keep talking!" He turned his attention from the area around them to Puck. He grabbed onto his shoulders and held on tight, which, in turn, made Puck try to dart away as fast as he could. It was futile, just like he should have expected. "Dresden, what did you do to me?"

"I didn't do anything to you, Raptor," he replied.

"You must have," Raptor argued. "You're the only other person here!"

"There's actually more of us than you think," Puck shot back, planting his feet firmly in the ground and giving him a glare of his own. "They're around that tree, and we were all sharing our secrets because none of us can help it. That's what you're going through, Raptor. So get ready to have all of your precious little secrets spilled, because even someone as annoying and as stubborn as you won't be able to overcome the urge to tell us everything you know."

James looked over to the tree, seeing the shadow of whatever figure was towering over Puck. His stomach sank for a moment as he witnessed the sheer size of the fully armored person, but he hoped that the person wouldn't be hostile - despite what obvious rivalry he seemed to already have with Puck.

"There's no escape and there are no secrets here," James announced from his seat in the grass. "Whatever kind of magic is holding us here under these circumstances is out of our control, and it seems no clock is set either for how much time we are to spend here. So it's best to accept it now, like the rest of us have done so, that you're going to spill your heart out. We all hate it, and we're all miserable. So welcome to the party, and sit your ass down."

"I'm not going to-" Raptor started to protest, only for Puck to cut him off.

"You are," he said. Raptor's shock gave him the perfect opportunity to break free from his grasp, and he used this opportunity to promptly return to the circle. He plopped down in his spot. He crossed his arms. He tapped his foot against the ground. To everyone else there, it must have been obvious that he was far from thrilled by these turn of events.

"I hope you don't come over," he shouted, glaring at the tree in lieu of his traveling companion, "because I don't want you to hear my secrets."

There was a pause. And then he swore rather loudly, because he could hear Raptor's armor clanking together as he walked around the tree. "Too bad. It's not like I have any other options, since I'm guessing you've already tried to escape from this place."

Without wasting a single second, he stormed over to the opposite side of the circle from Puck and angrily sat down. He glared over at Puck, who gladly started glaring at him instead of the tree. "So how's this supposed to go?" Raptor asked. "Are we just supposed to wait and see how this turns out? Or we you all talking about something before I showed up? Because I'd be happy if you continued, so I don't disclose any secrets I have."

"Which is a lot," Puck muttered, "considering that you're a magician."

Raptor narrowed his eyes even more. "That's rich coming from you, Dresden. Now, what were you talking about?"

"Oh, you know," Puck said, keeping his posture stiff and straight so he looked just a bit taller, "our crippling bouts of loneliness and our names. We've already had a round of introductions, so why don't you do some sharing first?" He was hoping the conversation would switch before they started telling Raptor who they were - he couldn't let his true identity be revealed to him of all people.

"My name is Blake," Raptor said, then looked surprisingly horrified for a man whose eyes were only visible. He involuntarily scooted back a little bit from the circle, clearly terrified that he had revealed that much.

He's in for a treat, then, Puck thought. Magicians hated sharing secrets. It was one of those stupid core rules they held up, and this conversation was undoubtedly going to irritate Blake to no end. At least he could take solace in that.

"What about the last name?" Puck asked, giving a smug little smirk because he knew that Blake was going to have to tell him.

"It's Croft." Blake looked absolutely miserable after he had spoken, something that should have made Puck even more smug. But, he narrowed his eyes even more and stared at him in disbelief. It couldn't be, could it? But hadn't he...No, Blake wasn't him. It just wasn't possible, and the coincidences would be too absurd.

Besides, Blake had a djinni at his disposal. An annoying one who had that stupid frog guise, but a djinni all the same. He couldn't have been that age and handled someone like Bartimaeus as well as he did.

"Hello, Blake," he nodded over at the newest stranger, who was decked out in a suit of armor, "I'm Finch. Welcome to our truth circle." He gave a limp wave.

"James," he added sharply, hoping no one else would be coming, so he wouldn't have to introduce himself again.

"Engel," he said shortly. "But you can call me Kratzer. Please."

"C-C-C-C-Cornyx B-B-Blackthorne, and you sc-scare me more than anyone else except maybe him and that's saying something," he says, turning red again as he speaks. "S-sorry, I d-d-didn't m-meant t-t-to say that, sin-sincerest apolgies, m-m-m-mister!"

If a man in a gigantic suit of armor could look uncomfortable, Raptor - Blake - somehow managed to do exactly that. Puck would have never pegged him as the type. He seemed to love intimidating people from the few stories they had swapped during their travels, though he did have to admit that he only really knew of how Blake had interacted with his current enemy.

"I'm not-I'm not supposed to look like this," Blake said. His gaze dropped to the ground. "I don't want to look like this. I knew people would be terrified of what I look like now, even if I try to hide it with this armor."

Puck stared. That was...unexpected, to say the least. He had always figured that the armor was there to intimidate people further, not to hide whatever he looked like underneath it. Then again, that wasn't too absurd. Blake was a Minecraft player. His skin could easily be something terrifying, and something so far from human that even the evil magician that he was hated his new appearance.

"I never pegged you as the type to get self-conscious about your appearance, Blake," Puck suddenly said, not even bothering to groan or cover his mouth this time. What was the point in doing that? The tone was just a bit more harsh than he probably would have used, but he was in a terrible mood. It was justified.

Blake looked up at him and narrowed his eyes. "Why are you acting like this, Dresden? I thought we were fellow magicians and travelers - isn't that what you told me when we first met-"

"I'm not like you," Puck snarled, leaning forward.

"Is that so?" Blake asked, tilting his head ever so slightly to the side. He was confused, but it was more than that - he was trying to get information that he could use against him, just like any other magician like him would. The icy tone paired with the innocent gesture was quite the combination, after all. "Why? What makes you so different, Dresden? Better yet, who are you? I know that's not your name, just like Raptor isn't mine. It's the name of the protagonist in the Dresden Files."

Horror was already appearing across his face even before the words slipped out. "You want my real name? It's Marius of Britannia, even though I go by Puck as a nickname."

The pricks of light in Blake's helmet widened. "You're a demon?"

Puck swore in response.

Finch watched this interaction wearily, and for once he was able to keep his thoughts to himself. They were mostly thoughts of confusion, darting around chaotically.

As he listened, he continued to absently scratch at the healing woulds on his neck. One wrong scrape, and he broke open the fragile skin. He looked down and cursed softly as his finger-tips slicked with blood. His first instinct was to carefully slip off his shirt- bloodstains were truely a pain.

James grew weary of the tension between the two, and was about to hop in and try to mediate, but instead the thief with the raccoon caught his attention. He was scratching at a wound that had started bleeding. Almost impulsively, he reached into his jacket, pulling out a roll of bandages from the inside pocket. He walked over to Flynn and holds it out to the teen.

"Stop picking at it," he chided. "Either you let me wrap it or you do it yourself, but either way you're getting it covered. Which will it be?"

Blake got to his feet, and it was then that Puck knew he was in the sort of trouble he wouldn't easily be able to get out of. The magician stormed over to where he was and grabbed onto his arm. He tried to resist, but that was nearly impossible when Blake was the one with all the brute strength. He gave a strong tug to bring Puck up to his feet. Puck glared at him all the while, and crossed his arms when Blake tightly grabbed onto his shoulders.

The magician looked him over, the pinpricks of light he had in the place of eyes narrowing. "You don't look like a demon."

"Well, I am," Puck angrily shot back, absolutely furious with himself for letting a moment like this happen in the first place.

Blake took another step towards him. "No," he said, "you don't look like a demon. Your true form isn't a demon. It's the man I'm looking at right now. That would mean that you're a human and not a demon, but that doesn't explain how-"

"I was summoned into this body," Puck interrupted. He had to admit that he was surprised that Blake had resilience, although he vaguely recalled that coming up when they first met. He hadn't given it much thought since then, but apparently Blake had a stronger sense of it than he had expected. "You wouldn't understand what it's like, magician." He let the disgust seep into his voice, let the word be as harsh as it should have been. If the truth was revealed, why avoid it? It had been quite some time since he had been able to deal with a magician like this.

Blake shuddered.

"What?" Puck demanded. "Are you disgusted by the thought of sharing a body with a demon-"

"Of course I am!" Blake argued. "That sounds absolutely terrifying! What if I would be unable to control what I was doing? Better yet, the only demon I can think of besides you right now is Bartimaeus, and that would be-that would be-" Blake's hand shot up and covered his mouth, but he continued speaking despite that. "-really, really disturbing because of the crush I have on him."

"You have a what on Bartimaeus?" Puck said.

"A crush," Blake miserably confirmed.

"Oh, gross," Puck said, face contorting into a look of disgust. "I am so sorry for you."