Young Writers Society

Auryon is known only as "The Viper" in her rather peculiar profession of killing people for a living. Despite this, she has a few friends, and on one Christmas week she decides she may as well invite one over and wrap up his present.

And that's how Boris, the rather jovial, chaotic, and somewhat morally gray figure came to her hotel door the night before Christmas.

Auryon Blackthorne pulled her mask off and tossed it down onto the hotel bed along with her cowl before shrugging off her coat and gloves and putting them in the bathtub (no reason to stain the sheets, after all). Once that was done she sat down on the foot of her bed with a sigh. It'd been a day pretty much like every other day if you discounted the Christmas everywhere. And of all the holidays, the one Auryon hated most was Christmas.

It wasn't really anything personal. It was just that it was a holiday for family and friends and so far most of them had ended in death, destruction, or incarceration, if she hadn't already been stuck somewhere...unpleasant. And somehow, Apophis, who when you got right down to it was really one of her only allies, always made it worse.

That's what demons were for, after all.

She flicked on the TV absentmindedly and got through the various news stations with their Christmas trees and carols and all the rest of the goddamned Christmas spirit. Past the children and the wrapped presents.

The image of her masked figure escaping the scene of the crime came up on screen with a news reporter wearing reindeer antlers. Even her assassinations didn't escape the holiday.

She turned it off in disgust and flopped on her back, staring absently at the ceiling. She wondered idly if or when Boris would show up. She hoped he would. It was the only thing that might actually make this holiday bearable, since Kratzer was off married in Canada somewhere and Diamond was...well, Diamond. Kratzer had invited her - just like he'd invited everyone else - for Christmas Eve, but now, it was just...to much. The reminder that even Silberfuchs had found another family.

One that wasn't her.

Not that it was personal. She knew that. She knew that, ultimately, her and Engel had never been entirely compatible - what they wanted out of life was too different.

But that didn't make it hurt any less.

She let out another sigh. One more reason to hate Christmas.

Boris appeared at the door, hair somewhat ruffled, but otherwise neat in his usual muted green suit, and a subtly Christmassy dark red scarf, his only visual acknowledgement of the season. He carried a wicker basket decorated with a bow, containing two large bottles, one filled with an oily black fluid of strange consistency, and the other colourless.

It had taken a while to make sense of Apophis' directions, but he had succeeded in the unique quest that was travelling to another reality on purpose, for once.

Boris smiled lightly over the novelty of this, and cheerfully hummed a hymn as he knocked upon the door.

She grinned involuntarily as she heard the knock and hopped out of bed, grabbing her gun and putting her ear to the door. Heartbeat? Check. She proceeded to look through the peephole. It certainly looked like Boris, at least from there. Auryon proceeded to open the door without taking the chain off and looking outside. Yep, it was almost definitely Boris: looked like him, smelled like him, his soul read like him, and he had a heartbeat. She undid the chain and opened the door.

"Come on in to my humble abode," she said, gesturing around grandly. "Don't mind the blood in the bathtub, just got back from work and haven't cleaned it off yet - it's still soaking. Oh, and I got you a present," she pointed to the burlap sack with a ribbon in the corner. "Despite the fact you're undoubtedly on the naughty list."

Boris smiled at the gun Auryon had gestured across the room with, as though he'd found it endearing.
If she'd done it in his own house, it would have been a different story. That was the nice thing about other realities, how they inspired people to let loose.

"Oh, did you? You're a darling. I brought you something, too." He handed her the beribboned wicker basket.

"Muscaria Brandy, a potent devil's brew," Boris indicated the bottle containing the black liquid, "and Ablution Solution." he indicated the bottle containing the clear fluid. "It can drive the stains out of anything.
Don't drink the brandy all at once, and definitely don't drink the solution."

She whistled and smiled, then leaned forward and planted a kiss on his cheek. "You're such a dear, Boris, did you know that?" She proceeded to tuck the handgun in the back of her belt and put both the brandy and the "Ablution Solution" in her suitcase that rested nearby. "I made the news today, but they ruined it all with the news lady wearing antlers."

Boris brushed his cheek with a finger, and let it go. It was nice to know that Auryon held his friendship so dear.

He lowered his face at her description of the newscaster, and shook his head.

"Tsk. Now that is just tasteless. Never fear, my friend, you shall be in the news again soon enough, and even if the press continues to disrespect your work, know that the mark of your efforts will forever brand the hearts of many, regardless."

Boris hadn't planned on making what felt like a bizarre blend of motivational speech and heartfelt eulogy, but there it was.

"I keep thinking you can't get anymore charming, but then you do," she laughed. "I think this Christmas is drastically better already. I wish I had more to offer as far as entertainment here, but what can I say, hotels don't offer much. We could always hit up the Guild Hall - it's always quite busy during the holidays, since there's not as much work and none of us have anywhere else to be. Damascus mentioned he might show up tomorrow, too, but other than that, it's wide open."

Damascus rubbed at his watering eyes and examined his costume in the mirror in the men's bathroom, scrutinizing each detail. It seemed that nowadays he was being offered jobs at the drop of a hat- simply by walking past a desperate employer of some sort.

When he was offered a job as a mall Santa Clause shortly after he arrived to visit Auryon, he didn't refuse. After all, he had arrived a day earlier than he was expected, and it would give him something to do. He was also honored to be chosen to represent such an influential Christmas figure.

Damascus took another look into the mirror, standing back to survey accuracy. He put some finishing touches in his own figure, letting his belly swell to fill more of the suit. With a glance down at the fake beard the costumer had lent him, he promptly pushed it out of view.

What kind of performer would he be if he had to wear a synthesized beard? Peering closer at himself, he a grew a long, white beard of his own, softly curling the ends, and grinned. That was better.

Humming quietly, he walked out of the bathrooms and went to find the event coordinator, rubbing his eyes once again. On a spree of insight, he had purchased a pair of neutral brown colored lenses for the job.

While he was glad he could eliminate chances that he would scare the children he was dressed up for, he was quickly learning that his eyes took longer to adjust than he'd assumed.

The manager, dressed in a very loud green and red sweater, had him stand behind a curtain, seemingly for dramatic effect, as the crowd of children and parents gathered.

A countdown began, and at the end of it, the curtain dropped, enticing a sea of shrieks and cheers.

A wide smile spread across Damascus' face. He was going to absolutely adore this job.

Boris raised a brow, limiting his surprise to only a single facial feature.

"Damascus, now? Apophis neglected to mention him. But that would be just...lovely." he looked distant for the briefest of seconds, before transitioning seamlessly into his usual mirth.

"But the Guild Hall, you say? I am intrigued. A petty information broker such as myself would be honoured to see the establishment you hail from. I promise I'll behave myself." said Boris, with a roguish wink.

She grinned. "Alright, let's do it, then. Just lemme grab my mask." With this, she disappeared into the other room, returning with said mask. "I've only got a motorbike and I don't think I have a helmet, and if you mind, we can take a taxi. But it'll be faster on the bike."

"A motored bicycle? Whatever will they think of next? Alright, let's go on that." said Boris, who was imagining something very different from what he was about to see.

She grinned and grabbed the keys along with her backpack, stepping out the door and leading the way down to the parking lot. She approached a sleek black Harley Davidson that was parked right in the front.

"Just got this one a few weeks ago," she said, patting it before swinging her leg over the top. "Stole it. Nice catch, really. Just go ahead and get on behind me. And then hang on, because the speed limit laws don't really apply to me. After all, if you aren't caught, it isn't illegal." She recited the first law in the Guild's creed with a mischevious smile.

Boris stared at the motorcycle in front of them, clearly at a loss to take in this alien machine.

"A classical creed." he said cheerfully, and took his place behind her.

"Alright, I'm ready when you are. Now this will be an experience."

Boris held onto Auryon with a casual tightness, initially. He never complained, but he changed his mind and clung to her for dear life before she had turned a single corner.

She chuckled as his grip tightened and the engine roared as she revved it up, speeding down roads at twice the speed limit - a good seventy miles an hour at first, but upping it when they hit the main roads to about ninety or even a hundred. With Apophis in her, her reflexes were inhumanly quick, and she'd been doing this a long time - weaving through slower traffic was something inconsequential.

She skidded to a stop in an alleyway in the downtown, swinging off the bike and leading the way down the street to a Starbucks. She went up to the counter and nonchalantly twisted her wrist to reveal the mark tattooed on the inside of it. "I'd like an espresso," she said. "Plus an extra for my friend here. Hotter than hell, if you wouldn't mind."

The woman at the counter took the order and a few moments later Auryon was picking up their coffees.

"This way, Boris," she said, slipping past an "employees only" sign and into the back as she opened her cup, revealing it to be empty with naught but a key inside of it.