Trial of Blood [Solomon]

He had thought little of the person on the rooftop. Why would he? The size of their flame meant they were some distance away, and this close to a base of supers, it wasn’t uncommon to find people lounging on the roofs of buildings. The two of them and the one in the distance were the only ones in the vicinity, but the base was a block, two at most, away. They were about as far from unfriendly territory as one could be. There was no buildup, no signs that the person on the roof should be paid any more mind than a light left on in a window. Solomon didn’t expect the attack any more than Aurora did.

He caught the knives to his side from the corner of his vision and the rest a moment later. There was no reason to fear combat, so Bolide’s lantern was off. He could generate enough smoke from the sparks in his hands to teleport, but he couldn’t feel anywhere else to teleport too. The instant of his absence from teleporting in place wouldn’t be nearly long enough for the knives to pass. Bolide was incapable of avoiding the attack.

He turned to face Aurora so his back would take the worst of it and began mentally preparing himself in case Bolide was knocked out. He could stay conscious through a lot, but this quantity of knives-

The ground shook as a large piece of steel fell behind him, knives began to vanish, and a second piece of steel formed. It was all over in an instant. Several blades sliced into his side and raised forearm and side and into his back, and a few more that shot past Aurora buried themselves in his front. Pain shot from where the knives struck- but they summed at just under a dozen, a far number shy from what he had been anticipating. None of it was vital, nor limiting beyond the pain. He would be fine.

Aurora didn’t register until she began to fall. Far more blades stuck into her than what seemed like there should be. If she’d had time to stop the worst and bulk of what was coming towards him, why would she leave knives to enter her neck and between her ribs? She could die, she had to know that. That’s what this was; an assassination attempt. Against her. She was in at least as much danger as he was, probably more. Why would she prioritize him?

The sound of metal hitting pavement reverberated all around them. He moved without consideration for the consequences of his actions to protect the person who had protected him.

Solomon had dealt closely with assassins before. If their first attack didn’t kill, they were left with two options: flee, or finish the job. As it stood, there was considerably more reason for them to take down the remaining weak super and take the faction for themself. He had to assure they would chose to run.

He pulled a dagger out of his arm and locked on the super. They were a ways away, but they were near enough to throw with some good power. They were certainly in range to receive the same back. He threw the dagger true at the assassin’s right arm, lighting the leather wrapped around the hilt a moment before he let it fly. The moment it left his fingers he pulled a second from his side and threw it towards where he expected the super to dodge; down the slope of the roof, much easier than up. He pulled a third from his forearm and was gone.

The assassin had seen and avoided the first dagger, but they did not the following one to slice into their waste, nor did they the super who appeared out of the hilt of the first as it flew past. His dagger was already raised, and he brought it down hard where their shoulder met their arm, the flaming blade allowing him to slice through bone and bury the blade to its hilt. Where his eyes would be through the helmet turned on the other super. He spoke low, with certainty that he’d live up to his word.

“Leave here, or we will find you.”

He planned to leave the knife with the super as a parting gift. Bolide’s grip on the handle had only begun to loosen when the blade vanished. It was near instantaneous that the knife reformed and its duplicate appeared, but he felt the second blade before he saw it. The super had waited until the last moment of their empty-handed thrust to pull the stunt, and what he had thought to be a push instead plunged a knife into his gut.

It ran near one of the other dagger wounds, and he could feel his body trying to give into the wound. He forced himself steady. In one swift motion, pulled a fourth dagger from his other arm, set it alight, and stabbed it deep into the assassin’s stomach.

Bolide’s power generated points that would cause limbs to go limp, but he didn’t want those. Solomon knew where it hurt to be stabbed but was unlikely to kill as long as they tended to the wounds. It was more than they’d given Aurora. He doubted he needed anything more to convey his message.

It wasn’t until he reappeared at Aurora’s side that her condition really became clear. Aurora was bleeding out. Fast. If she was left like this, he doubted she’d last for long.

It would be simple, he realized, to finish the job and claim the rewards for himself. It’d only take one more knife to the right place. Then all he’d have to do was show up at the base and defeat anyone who tried to dispute him. He doubted it’d take him more than thirty minutes, maybe an hour now to prepare for the ones he expected to oppose, and he’d just need to keep ready for the one who’d tried this attempt for a while afterwards. Running a faction would be a pain, but he could do it, and do a lot of good with it. Perhaps turn it into a means of rebellious teenagers taking out their troubles without causing too much damage.

Hell, if he played it right, he could probably put anyone on the helm of Pandaemonium. If he was quiet and cleaned up the mess, there was likely even time to discuss the optimal course with Seraphim before people began to wonder what happened to their faction leader. This was a rare opportunity where they were in control and had time to set up what they needed. There was no better scenario to guide the direction of the faction, and it was a chance that would take pains to create again.

He didn’t even have to raise his own hand against her. If he let things play out, it was likely Aurora would die. Bolide had no way to help her in any way that would matter. There was no one else around. This was how things were supposed to happen, and how he should let it happen. It was simply the end to his mission. It was not his job to intervene.

It shouldn’t even be a question in his mind what to do. This was bound to happen sometime, and she had brought it upon herself. But when he looked at her, he saw someone who was lost but could still learn. Aurora’s plans were a mess, and she was a difficult sort of person, but she was young. He could think of a lot of reasons about her person of why to save her. He could think of a lot more of why not to save her, but that wasn’t the point. It was important for people to face the consequences of their actions, and this was most certainly a consequence of her decision to take over Pandaemonium, but there was also points when it was alright to protect them from the sharpest of what they sowed. There had been a lot of points when, looking back, he wished someone had been there when the worst returned in its full.

Aurora didn’t deserve to die from this. He couldn’t let her die from this, and he couldn’t leave her behind like she was just another idealist in over her head, because that’s not who she was. She wasn’t ‘just another person’, whom would be replaced in three months for him to begin anew. To let her die now was to give up on her, and he couldn’t do it.

This was what he got for wanting to put value in others without direction or knowledge of whom or when; mistakes that were only going to lead to larger problems. It would be easy to nip this issue before it could grow any bigger, he reminded himself. All he had to do was nothing.

He knew what was happening, and he knew he couldn’t afford to care about the ones he was trying to manipulate. It would only lead to heartache and stupid decisions that ended up costing him more than he obtained by manipulating them in the first place. He had become good at not caring, even for those who cared deeply for him. This shouldn’t be a problem.

Aurora reminded him too much of himself when he was younger. It probably wasn’t healthy for him.

And it was why he was going to make one of those stupid decisions now. Aurora was unconscious, so she wouldn’t notice, but others might. He needed to get somewhere quiet. Once he was certain no one was in the area to see, he placed his hand lightly on her shoulder, spoke a word, and activated the teleportation spell he kept prepared for emergencies. Aurora and Bolide vanished instantly from the street.

Since Aurora had begun to keep a closer eye on him, Solomon had sought out a more secluded place from which he could depart and occasionally arrive as Bolide. It was a shame he was likely going to have to find a new one now. The second basement, two stories down, of the old restaurant was likely to have been used to store the cheese beneath the wooden wine cellar above. A collapse had cut off the stairs downwards, and there’s been no reason to rebuild down to the second basement when the first sufficed fine for the renovated storage building. A couple of the old original floorboards, however, betrayed the empty stone cellar beneath. All Bolide needed was a crack in the wood and a bit of smoke and he had a small alcove that was very hard to see into and harder to follow him through. It was here that he appeared with Aurora.

Solomon had wasted enough time and could no longer afford to move with any hesitation. He immediately kneeled down next to her, pulled off the helmet, and dismissed the spell that made Bolide’s body. He shrunk a small bit into the clothes, and his face changed drastically. Most importantly, the tattoos formed again on his arm. He tapped the one directly below his wrist. His little tan pocketbook appeared in his hand, from which he withdrew a large white-bound tomb. The smaller of the two was set aside and his healing book put in his lap.

The first spell he spoke removed her body’s need for oxygen. With it, the pressing use of blood - and lungs - was nullified. The next was one of the ones he’d used to stop his own blood loss after he’d fought Seraphim. Blood would gather into droplets around the wounds rather than flow out, forming a clot to stop further bleeding. He would have to release both before she woke up, but for now they would buy him time.

He cast the second one again to stop his own bleeding. With that, the pressure of time was gone and he could focus on the wounds themselves. He began by pulling out the knives, first the few in him and then the many in her, making a pile beside them. Blood quickly gathered to fill in the cork each knife had served to the wound. After that, a simple spell to gather information on the state of her body.

There was a lot to do, but not a lot he was willing to let his powers substitute for. He closed the punctures in her lungs, drained them of blood, and filled them with air, and did likewise to her windpipe, but only to the point that each was functional. The largest he left as small punctures her body would be capable of sealing on its own. Wound reversion was the lightest and most subtle means of healing he had, and so this was what he used; it would seem as though the knife had stopped just shy of being a mortal threat. He did the same to any other vital organs that may’ve been caught in the attack and to arteries that wouldn’t close on their own, but if it would not kill her, regardless of how otherwise painful or damaging it would be, he left it.

The rest was going to be done the old fashioned way, with bandages and disinfectant. Setting aside his spell tomb, he retrieved his pocketbook and pulled out one of the two sizable first aid kits he stored in it, and got to work.

Her back - her actual back, not the leotard he was surprised to find her wearing - gave him pause. It didn’t end with the large burn, either, but carried around her entire torso. A good many of them seemed unlikely to have been earned in battle.

Solomon sighed. “You have been through a lot, haven’t you?” He muttered aloud to no one in particular.

The leotard was strange, though. If not for her wounds, he doubt he would’ve realized she was wearing it, even if her arms were otherwise bare. He could only think of one reason why she would wear one this close to her skin tone, but if she wanted just to keep her arms less visible, her almost excessively difficult to remove jacket seemed like it would suffice fine. Aurora was such a free speaking person. Why was she going to such lengths to hide her scars?

When it was time to get to his own injuries, even though it was unreasonable, it was tempting to pick up his spell book again and wash himself of them. It was moreso for the one he’d gotten from the assassin after Aurora had fallen unconscious. Reluctant as he was, he’d have to keep it along with the others. There was no way Bolide was strong or experienced enough to fend off an attacking super without getting hurt, and there was no alternative explanation around how he’d gotten the assassin to leave them alone. Painkillers from his pocketbook it was.

There was considerably more to be drawn from his pocketbook. He set Aurora on a small foam mat and a pillow built for durability on her less injured side, under a blanket which favoured warmth per weight over comfort. Beside her and hopefully within eyesight of her waking up was her jacket, folded neatly, and her boots. Placed alongside those were a bottle of water and one of Bolide’s black t-shirts, should she prefer that. The mess from the first aid kit was cleaned up, his spelltomb returned to his pocketbook, and he set about making the small second basement look a little less like just his teleportation point and a little more lived in.

Two small light wood tables of about the coffee variety if there was a little side table in their heritage were set against the wall, and a plastic chair beside each of them. Both of the tables and one of the chairs were stacked with books and numerous pocket files. Solomon had unloaded everything he had accumulated for Bolide onto them, and it’d made a decently sizable pile. A cheap space heater sat in one corner, plugged into an old generator with a lamp that had seen better nights but was bright enough that it was one could read without trouble anywhere in the basement. A couple of spare lanterns were set against one wall along with a pile of his needles, darts, and the materials and tools he used to make his darts. An assortment of various random but useful items were placed beside that. The pile of daggers had been pushed into the corner with the collapsed stairs, and Bolide’s blood soaked jacket and undershirt were tossed haphazardly over the top. The super himself sat in the other of the two plastic chairs with an old scifi novel in his hands and a clean t-shirt over his bandaged left arm. Aurora’s first wall had spared his right of any injury. His motorcycle helmet sat moderately security at the top of the nearby table’s pile, but the black cloth half mask he wore still covered the bottom of his face and neck. All of the spells that made up Bolide had been respoken for time, and his pocketbook slipped into Bolide’s thick boot.

Bolide’s face was long and with sharp cheekbones and a triangular nose. Even with his mask covering the bulk of them, his face was very clearly covered with freckles. His light brown hair was curly and cut so that it was short by his ears and the back of his head but was long enough on the top to spill over onto his forehead. He also happened to be asleep.

Once Aurora had been tended to and the room set up, there had been little to do but pass the time with a book. The buzz from using so many spells had kept him alert for a while, but soon after it wore down he found himself nodding off. He jostled himself awake twice, but the third got the better of him and he’d fallen asleep, upright in his chair with his book and hands in his lap and head hung to one side.

Bolide was oblivious to Aurora’s rousing. Even when she checked his pulse, Bolide only grumbled something unintelligible even to himself in his sleep and shifted a little to his left. The thing about his relationship with sleep was they never parted easily, come noise, danger, or people to steal his stuff. This became especially true after the first few hours of the day, when his body gave up trying to be awake. He didn’t start to fully wake up until Aurora began shaking his chair.

His first impression was that someone had somehow gotten into the basement because, last he checked, there was only Aurora and him down here and Aurora shouldn’t be up and moving around yet. His first reaction was to raise the book in his hand, opened to a page near the middle, and set it alight, sharpening the pages’ edges to a blade. The fire dispersed and his agitation vanished a moment later when he realized it was her.

“What are you doing?” He asked as sternly, shaking the rest of the sleep from his voice and rubbing it from his eyes. “You’re going to reopen your wounds.”

He stood and he positioned himself so she could use his shoulder if she would like, or take his chair should she prefer. Something to help keep stress off of the injuries. Honestly, getting up and running around after being nearly stabbed to death - there was only so much he could do, and she looked like she was going to cry. Bolide let out a long exhale and his expression soften.

“How much do you remember?”

He considered for a moment telling her they were in an underground bunker, hiding from a government that begun hunting all supers in the two weeks she’d been unconscious. He’d earned it, for all he was doing for her, but he let the notion pass. It was just good that she was doing well enough to be up and asking questions, even if her stomach looked keen to beg to differ and one of the things she mentioned provided… a bit of a complication.

Solomon didn’t know enough about the Pandaemonium doctor to know to what detail Dullahan was capable of diagnosing injuries, but with super powers involved, he had to assume the worst. He had chosen to essentially reverse time on the stabs he’d healed specifically for this reason; anyone looking at them would only see a cut that hadn’t gone as deep as the rest, if they were even able to tell that. However, it might seem just slightly convenient that all the knives that might’ve caused a real problem had stopped just shy of being so. He would begin coming up for an explanation immediately, but it’d be much easier if the situation could be avoided entirely. Or at least a bit of time let pass so her body’s natural healing could help cover up any definite conclusions.

He began with the easy part. “This is my hideout.” He explained, nodding to the cracked basement like it was a nice studio he was showing off. “It’s hard for anyone without teleportation to get in here, and I doubt many people know this place exists, let alone that this is where I’ve set up. It was the safest place I could think of to bring you.”

He didn’t agree with her choice to stick with the wall, but at least she was holding still. Bolide took a step to the side and turned more towards the center of the room, but remained near and available in case she changed her mind.

“I saw them, yeah. I saw their identifier with my powers, and I also got close enough I could describe what they look like. I didn’t recognize them, but I would if I saw them again.”

Bolide petered off and looked absently off to the side like he was collecting the last of his thoughts. He turned back to Aurora with his conclusion. It was genuine advice, albeit some he was only giving because it served his needs.

“I’m saying this only because this just happened and you just woke up, not because I doubt you or that I intend to try to stop you. Are you sure you don’t want to rest and let things settle? Someone just tried to kill you, Aurora. We’re safe here right now. Are you sure you don’t want to spend a bit of time making a plan before you make your move?” He paused and let out a sigh. “If it’s what you think is best, I can help you to Dullahan quickly, and my powers will let me spot the assassin if they get near again. But I’m hurt too.” As much as Bolide hated to admit it, “I don’t think I can fight the assassin off a second time. Especially if they bring reinforcements. Especially if they only send reinforcements, because we won’t recognize any of them until it’s too late. They knew enough about you to know to attack from multiple directions; it’s possible they’ll know enough to predict you’ll go immediately to Dullahan. I’m scared they’re going to try to attack you again and we won’t see it coming.”

His plan backfired. By the look on her face alone, he knew there was no point in arguing with her, he would lose. His options were to neglect to mention the way out and leave her to use her own powers, or take the action that wouldn’t hurt Bolide’s reputation with her. He would have to hope Dullahan didn’t notice anything odd.

“I can teleport with other people.” He explained evenly. Her agitation was more than apparent, which meant he needed to be almost overly composed. He played the part. “Give me a moment to get some darts and I’ll get us out.”

Bolide’s bag had been tossed by his pile of half-made darts. One of the knives sent its way had cut a slit clean through its side, but the strap was still in tact and it would hold as much he needed for now. He paced over and slid darts into the couple of empty hoops on the strap and a few more into the pack itself, and then pulled it over his shoulder and head, strapping it tightly in place to his chest. He moved quickly, but didn’t rush and fumble. On his way back, he picked up her jacket, boots, and the t-shirt from beside the mat. He offered them to her with a simple “Here.”

From his personal opinion, he didn’t agree with her plan. She was in poor enough state that, even if Dullahan was in danger, she was more likely to be a liability on the field than a help. She was putting herself at risk for little reward. From the more emotional viewpoint she appeared to be taking, would it really do Dullahan - or anyone else, save the assassin - any good if she was killed from this? It was especially unnecessary because he was here; the optimal course of action was to have him scout ahead and make sure everything was alright while Aurora waited here for him to report back. If there was danger, he could find a course that would take her safely where she needed to be instead of rushing in blind. Perhaps bring Dullahan back here instead of her to him, if that was possible. This was unlikely to stop her from going to Dullahan regardless of if there was threat or not, however - she seemed to have her mind made up, and even a false report wasn’t likely to change it - so he didn’t suggest it. What she did was up to her.

Bolide lifted his helmet off the stack by its bottom and slipped it over his face. Though it was hidden, his posture and voice betrayed his lingering emotionless expression as he turned to her.

“Aurora, to teleport with you, I need two things.” He extended his hand out to her. “I need to be in contact with you. We’re going to be moving, so please lean on me if you have to. But more than that, if we’re walking into danger, I need you to be calm. Calm people live. Tense people die. I need you to live.”

Putting her weight on his own wounds was not the most pleasant of feelings. Bolide grunted as she put what felt like more weight than she was capable of having on him, but his body took care of the complaining. Solomon’d had worse and Bolide would deal. He supported her as best he could with one arm, and with the other reached over his shoulder to unzip his bag. After pulling out a handful of darts by their cloth tails and dropping them on the floor, he confirmed quietly, “They should fit, though they might have to be packed kind of tight.” He’d zip it back up as far as he could when it was ready. He used that to catch the more emotional inflection caused by both of her statements of agitation, and quickly was back to an even tone.

“I didn’t say hysterical, I said calm. I need you to calm down. Whether the assassin’s a danger right now or not, you’re going to have to have to make some influential decisions.” Even if she were to decide to put off directing her faction and dealing with the assassin until she was of better mind and body, that was still a decision that had to be made. “You can’t make good decisions unless you’re calm.”

Her own choices aside, if being riled up like this was going to feed her paranoia, he wasn’t leaving until he knew she’d listen to a reasonable argument. But he was damned if he did, damned if he didn’t - staying here risked angering her by possibly casting doubt on her infallible judgement and working against her. As long as he was working with her best interests in mind, at least, damages might be repaired with retrospect. Suspicion was going to be a lot harder to fix. Her last accusation had cemented his decision as what he felt was the correct one.

“I needed to stop the bleeding and dress the cuts. I saw what was necessary to do that. Nothing more, but nothing less.” His monotone remained steady. Someone had tried to kill her, and he’d done what he had to. There wasn’t much point in lying - she’d figure it out on her own even if he said nothing.

Yes, Aurora’s was the face of serenity. He could feel her shaking in placidity, and she appeared to be struck in awe with how relaxed she was. Bolide let out a long sigh, carefully readjusted his and her weight for movement, and took a step back towards the chair. His hurry to leave held a direct correlation to how calm she was, which meant neither of them were going anywhere.

He considered just stepping back and letting her figure out how to deal with the stress of the situation herself. The ability to pick oneself up after situations like this, be it through taking control of one’s emotions to force a calm, setting aside the unhelpful ones to be dealt with later, or even just understanding that one was unable to do either and designating someone to take charge while they recovered, was necessary for people like her to learn. It was damn hard and it wasn’t fair, but she wouldn’t be where she was if she gave into pity like that. Normally he would, at least until the point that she caught on that she was not, in fact, calm, but Bolide was likely to have a hard enough time pulling a turn coat to the side of staying. He was the only available target should problem solving require a scapegoat. He would try his hand at helping.

With tensions as they were, he didn’t feel particularly safe discussing Aurora’s back in any more than vague necessities. How she felt about it was still a mystery, and poking too much risked stumbling onto something too sensitive and kicking a beehive best let be. The way she was talking about it did not bode well for his chances. Depending, however, it may be useful later. He’d keep it in mind. For now, he’d keep the matter simple.

“I won’t tell anyone. You have my word.” He said softly. He meant it; he had no reason to tell anyone who didn’t likely already know.

Bolide looked upwards like he was considering something important and was obvious both to her command to hurry and tone of voice. A means and topic were easy enough to come up with. He turned them so that Aurora’s back would be towards the chair, and tried to help her carefully down into it.

“Alright. Tell me about a book you read recently.” He grunted as he did so.

If he was successful, he’d take a step back and his helmet off, and settle down cross-legged on the ground in front of her.

Bolide sat warily, just glad he got her to… sort of sit as well. It was close enough. He spun his helmet as he took it off so it sat like a second head upright in his lap, and rested his hands on top of it. His head and shoulders slouched downwards like he wanted to rest his chin there as well, but his back wasn’t presently willing to be that flexible.

“It has nothing to do with anything, and that’s the point. I’ve already told you why I’m stalling. Humor me and try putting your mind on something else for a moment. What’s the most interesting thing you’ve read recently? Fiction, non-fiction, anything.”

He spoke measuredly, eyes never leaving Aurora’s despite her apparent interest with the ceiling. In him wanting to stay and her wanting to leave, he supposed it would only be a matter of time before she tried something with her powers. He was somewhat surprised she’d yet to. As the largest threat he saw was a large object falling through a large hole, considering she didn’t seem to be well enough to walk without support, let alone climb up to another level, he had a mind to not intervene if she wanted to try.