"Charming"

[wrecking_yard]

There isn't much upstairs -

Not that I'd expected much, and I have a feeling Vex'ahlia didn't either - the pretense of getting away from others is confirmed when I turn toward the door after finishing checking the last upstairs room, going over the wall for any hidden vaults.

She's right there when I turn around, catching the collar of my coat and pushing backwards, easily putting me off-balance against the wall.

"Percy. Your shadow. Is it under control?"

I only remember one time I'd ever worked in tandem with it like that before - working alone, tracking down a devil cult. "Yes."

"Are you sure?"

The room is dim, it could be a trick of the light, but there's also a feeling of presence over my shoulder as there's a flicker of black smoke along the wall and around the coat.

I was in control during that fight. I think. It was taking direction, nothing stands out as a gap, Keyleth isn't agitated so there probably isn't anything I don't remember saying or doing.

"Yes. I'm reasonably sure."

She tilts her head, giving me a narrow look. "I'd prefer a bit more detail than 'reasonably sure', darling." The accent it's picked up recently is not there - I'm on thin ice.

I close my eyes, wrinkling my nose. "I'm - feeling sharper. Like it's - easier to be vicious, but - I'm aware of it. I remember the entire fight. I'm not - well, but it's under control." I wish I could say for sure how much of the bloodthirsty undercurrent was Orthax rubbing off in the close contact (or nudging things) and how much was just ... me, or me with the influence of the thing below.

"You'll say something if you feel it slipping, right?" It isn't a request.

"I - you'll know. I'm sure you'll know." I'm at least reasonably sure she'd notice if I were acting dramatically different; she's waiting with a look clearly prodding for a better answer. "I'll say something if I can. I - don't know if I'll be able to - but I trust you."

She inhales slowly, thinking hard, and lets go of my collar. "Right. We'll get through this." She starts to take a half-step back, and I end up reaching out to catch her shoulder on a half-impulse.

"Wait - Vex'ahlia. It's - it may be worse."

She freezes, turning. "Oh?"

"It's. The zigurrat. I." It's a bit of a jumble, even with the sense of Orthax's numbing routine going on in the background. "I think - whatever Delilah did to me when I was younger - that it's tied to it, and to what they're doing."

She's frowning, and the bristle's turned more concerned.

"It - last night, when we were sleeping in the tunnel - I saw the zigurrat. In a dream. Something was trying to - compel me to go to it in the dream, and - I was fighting it, but I couldn't move away. It got interrupted by-," How the fuck do I explain Orthax getting territorial without explaining more than I want to talk about of Orthax?, "The - the shadow, the black fog. Territorial, probably, but - compared to whatever they're trying to bring through-" I make a few weak hand gestures, and she's watching me...

And there's a brief flicker - a half-glance over my shoulder that's quickly stifled.

"Are you going to be alright going deeper into this?"

"I don't think I have a choice." I lean back against the wall. "You heard Scanlan's translation about when they're aiming for; it's getting stronger, and I - don't think I can fight it off if we don't stop them before then."

"If they bring The Whispered One through, it will not be stopped."

For a moment, I freeze; every time it's opened its mouth like that before I've been the only one who heard it - but her attention has snapped to just over my shoulder with a focused glare. "Oh? You're finally feeling like introducing yourself?"

There's a deep, raspy snort. "I know you've been watching me. You know when to keep your mouth shut." At this point, I can definitely see the wisp of black smoke with red eyes leaning forward, curled around my shoulders. "And I'm sure you're sharp enough to have figured out how full of shit this one is about how much he knows."

"...I hate you," I mutter, and it ignores me; she raises an eyebrow at me, looking skeptical - I doubt it's going to get very far trying to be a shit-stirring saboteur with her, but it's definitely trying.

She also doesn't look surprised at all at the idea.

"I've heard some of the arguments, yes."

It makes an odd, deep unimpressed noise; they're having a staredown that I'm basically stuck in the middle of.

"And I think the more pressing question is - how much do you know?" She stabs a finger at the smoke 'beak'.

"More than you, but not enough to be as useful as you think." They're definitely having a staredown. "Their master's power grows. Their plans are easy to guess. If they continue their work, all of you, this city, and everyone here will be forfeit." There's a pause, and the smoke-shadow curled around me grows more distinct, incorporeal claws curled over my shoulders. "She had plans for this one that none of you could do anything about."

The point is obvious - it's blocking the other influence.

For a moment, she's bristling, about to say something sharp to it; I barely flinch, but it's apparently enough warning for her to reconsider, still glaring at it. "Fine. I'm going to tolerate you for the sake of getting all of this taken care of. But you had damn well better mind your manners, because I am not going to put up with you making our job here harder in the name of petty bullshit. Am I understood?"

"Perfectly." It's half-chuckling as the manifestation dissipates out of sight.

She's still glaring at where it was for a couple seconds. "Your friend is charming."

"Extremely."

There's a silent moment, and then Keyleth calling up the stairs sounding concerned - the flag has dropped, and we can't afford to hang around here any longer than we need to.