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Zavala Zeras




All was quiet and still, nary a whisper was to be heard, no sound seemed to pierce the confines of the stone chamber deep beneath the palace. Even the torch Zavala had placed in a holder on the wall made no cracks as the flames licked the air, the brilliant light casting a long shadow that loomed large behind the prince. Within the hallowed halls the prince stood amongst his ancestors, kings and Regia of the past who had been given the greatest of honors, before being laid to rest here, their duty fulfilled. Even now his own father sits upon the throne, the latest host to the great king, yet no time was wasted in constructing a statue declaring his legacy. Zavala's fingertips touched the cool slab of granite, tracing the edges of the casket that would serve as his father's final resting place.

"Father...", Zavala's eyes traced up the length of the statue, to the features that had been painstakingly crafted by artisans and masons to reflect the benevolent nature of their king. To Zavala however, in this moment, he imagined his father staring down at him disapprovingly, disappointedly. How could he not? The storm was going to encroach upon the walls again, wiping away another facet of their civilization, further driving his people into despair. Enemies without was one thing, but with the revolutionists being even more active, dealing with enemies within at the same time was more than arduous. Zavala leaned over the stone slab, his grip tightening hard around the mineral before softening as he raised himself up with poise and grace. Like a child to his father, he addressed the statue as such, "Father...I know not what to do..." he stated aloud, his voice speaking as honestly as he could, "The storm encroaches upon our city once more and yet I find myself embroiled within petty politics." Petty might have been an understatement, but the uprising felt more of a distraction from the true enemy that slowly gorged itself upon them.

"I am expected to make a choice, to deal with the revolutionaries, to set an example for those that would follow the path to chaos...this feels not unlike madness. That our people should be so divided when faced against a common enemy, that I cannot walk the streets unaccompanied for fear of my life, that merely greeting another in the street could result with a knife in my back...tis truly madness. Yet am I any better? I am expected to make a choice, to hold another's life in my hand, to condemn their choices with capital punishment..." Zavala felt weary, his tired eyes gazing up at his father and seeing...understanding and commiseration. "Father? How am I to save our people?" It was an answer that would not come and yet it was a question Zavala wised to prose nonetheless.

The silence in the chamber was broken as the audible clang of steel to stone slowly grew louder, a member of the Regia guard making his way into the chamber called out to Zavala. "Your grace, it is time..."

Zavala sighed audibly, the weariness had not abated, and as he looked up to the statue one final time before leaving the chamber, it's expression was as it always was; one of benevolence.



The large double doors cracked open as the guards opened the way for Prince Zavala to make his way to the council chambers. His footsteps echoed across the marbled tile, a group of men and women, the council of 12 all present and standing by waiting for him. His eyes quickly scanned the room, but it appeared his mother, the queen regent, was nowhere to be found. The one part of the room he had the most difficulty with looking at was where the Regia sat, where his father's body 'lay', but Zavala knew where he was in relation to the Regia. With practiced motion, down to the final 42nd step, Zavala presented himself before the Regia and kneeled in reverence, his head bowed low. "Oh Great King, I do humbly present myself before thee, may I serve forevermore."
Mitch & Barry

interacting with Zachary Snypes@Viciousmarrow and referencing Reya Parker@The Muse




Mitch's eyebrow raised up a little, a small smirk forming on their lips as Zack seriously considered their innocent little quip. An opportunity to tease the older boy presented itself and Mitch latched onto it like a croc, "Hmmm~ not too hot, not too cold, but just right. Sounds like a real goldilocks kind of situation," they pondered affirmatively, their head nodding as if to agree with the statement. "It's just a shame that I'm not into redheads," Mitch winked at Zack, a playful smirk on their lips. Before they could go any further with the banter, one of the other band members came staggering through with some equipment in hand, not before making a dig at Zack first. Though Mitch didn't know the other band members personally, Mitch knew of them and that they were all related to some degree and that felt like sibling fuckery that felt so nostalgically familiar.

Barry followed behind the other two, his head shaking and eyes rolling every so slightly at Mitch's playful and mischievous behavior. A lot of the town had shown up to the festival, along with plenty of out of towners he didn't recognize right off the cuff. One face that stuck out as they passed the crowds was Reya Parker, seeing her made him realize that it'd been weeks since he'd stopped by her tavern. Today was the anniversary, wasn't it? Shit... he made a mental note to make an effort to visit her soon, if nothing else to just check up on her or at least prose about building maintenance... Barry nearly didn't register that he was about to walk into someone as another red head, who seemed to know the first one, forced her way by.

“Don’t pay her any mind. She’s drunk, sure, but for some reason she plays and sings better that way…"

"Hey man, I'm not one to judge. Everyone's got a boat they use to float, so long as it gets them downstream, who am I to complain?" Mitch smiled understandingly, giving a thumbs up for reassurance as Zack lead the three of them over to the truck. After some brief instruction, the trio got to work and Mitch set about grabbing onto a couple of different drum stands and attachments, the stand for the keyboard was grasped in their other hand.

“So you two got names? Feel like I’ve definitely seen you around town before. Definitely sorta remember seeing you around school.”

Barry set about hauling out the bass drum, hoisting it up onto one shoulder as another hand reached down, and with some impressive grip strength, snagged the floor tom out of the truck bed. "Name's Barry kid, I run around and do the odd job here and there, figured that's why you approached me," he shrugged, "guess you lucked out today." He smirked a little as began the trek towards the stage, hauling the main drum kit components up and setting them down center stage towards the back. Risers had been set up specifically for the drums so they could sit higher up behind the rest of the group, really demand the presence of the crowd as the drummer sets the speed and rhythm of the song. As Barry finished setting up the bass and tom next to it, he couldn't help but notice the girl from earlier struggling with setting up the cymbals. "I Don't suppose you could use an extra pair of hands?"

Mitch smiled as he attempted to remember their familiarity, "I'm surprised you remembered honestly, I'm Mitch, Mitch Kowalski. I was a couple of grades behind you so it's not like we had any classes together, but you certainly left an impression on me." They beamed brightly at the young rocker, open and honest with their opinion. He was incredibly impressionable, a vibrant and charismatic soul, who despite his fiery temperament, could bring people together with his music. "Though to be fair, I think you left an even bigger impression on Principal Sheffield," Mitch started laughing as they carried the equipment over to the stage, "I remember her looking about 10 years younger the semester after you graduated."







The whole auction overall didn't last that long, not that it really mattered whether or not Mitch had participated, as every 'item' up for sale was out of their budget. Somewhat crestfallen and dejected, Mitch stared at the two hundred bills, the balding old man in each slip almost mocking them for trying. Sighing, Mitch pocketed the money, gave their cheeks a couple slaps to wake up and with a fist pumped to the sky proclaimed, "Alright, time for a strong drink, and I'm buying. You coming?"

Before Barry even had a chance to answer, a young man with fiery red hair came sauntering up requesting the pair's assistance with setting up for the rock show. Barry had no idea who this kid was outside of recognizing him performing gigs around town, and while the dull ache in his upper back told him to take it easy, the easy money outweighing the scales. "Just moving a few things huh?" Barry folded his arms over, tucking his hands into his sides, "Sure, sounds easy enough, just point me where and I'll move it," turning to Mitch he prompted them to follow, "You coming?"

Mitch had a better idea of who Zack was, although still vague since he was two years Mitch's senior. The age gap meant that while they hadn't shared any classes together, they were still privy to the antics of the red head in their tiny school. Smart kid, dream of becoming a rock star; some might call it a 'waste of potential', but Mitch found it to be more impassioned, a dream to live by, and that was something they could respect. Mitch turned to Barry as he made an attempt to recruit them, "Really? Not gonna lie that drink was kind of calling to me." Their eyes gazed longingly towards the bar...

"You can drink any other time, how often do you get exclusive back stage passes from the lead performer? Besides, you came here looking for a date right?" Mitch raised their eyebrow at that, a subtle flush tone rising up their neck, "Sounds like this nice gentleman might be offering you a couple of Andrews to take home." Mitch gave Barry a solid jab to the arm as he laughed.

"Ass!" They exclaimed as they laughed at the man's stupid jokes, "Fine, fine, although I don't think he's told us who I'll be taking home tonight, I'll still help out," Mitch winked at Zack before grinning wide, both thumbs extended upwards. "Besides," they started as Zack lead the pair towards his equipment, "you don't want the fossil accidentally wiping any of your music away."

"Dude..I'm not that old."
_________________________________________________________________________________________



An introduction to Barry & Mitch
_________________________________________________________________________________________

War never C̷͖̦̻̈̉̿͘͠H̵͎̜͕̗͘A̶̢̨͕̪̗̘̟͆̃́͗͝Ņ̵̛̝͙̪̲̊ͅĜ̸̝̱̆̇̊̀̑́Ë̵̛̻͇̳̫̦̇͜S̴̢̱̖͕̮̳̗̉̔̄̈́̎̾͝




Barry’s body jostled in his seat as the world passed him by, a duotone blanket of pale blue and hazy tan in the morning sunlight. The thrum of the Humvees’ engine's roar was deafening, only surpassed by the beats and bass of Clint Eastwood played in the background. Barry looked down at his wrist watch, 0752 hours, nearly time now… His gaze wandered ahead of him, Rodriguez in the driver seat, Lt. Michelle relaying commands and battle strategy over comms, to his right, his best Antony, telling him…something. It was already so loud in the transport, his words were coming out muffled; knowing him it was definitely dirty. The scene felt so familiar, yet so far away, why was it so hazy? His gaze lowered to the watch again, 0758; but why was this so familiar?

He went to look at Antony, to ask him why they were there, but as he looked his friend wasn’t there anymore, the view replaced with a cracked window masking the blue sky. Barry didn’t have to look far though, Antony was on top of him, unmoving. Was Barry…on his side now? When did that happen? Arm is pinned, smoke is spreading, it's kind of hard to breathe now. “Hey, Antony, can you get off me for a sec?”

BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM

Gunfire? Explosions? 50 caliber and RPGs. Why were there weapons in Sanctuary? Wait, was he in Sanctuary? This didn’t feel like home, a long way from it. He tried asking Antony another question, to no avail.

BOOM BOOM BOOM

Barry was feeling more than a little stuck now and his vision was starting to get hazy. “Look, Antony, if you aren’t gonna move, can you at least tell me why I’m here?” He turned his gaze to his friend again, his body still unmoving, but the head had lifted itself enough to stare into him, “Barry, this is the day you died. Don’t you remember, Barry?” It paused briefly, then said it again, Dont remember Barry? Barry? BAaaarRRYy? BARRY!!!!



THUD THUD THUD “Barry! HEY BARRY!!!!”

The adrenaline kicked in all at once and the older male shot upright, his head nearly slamming into the roof of his truck. His breathing ragged and heavy, Barry quickly scanned his environment for any immediate threats. He saw the brick walls on either side of the alley he had parked in, and he could hear the din of people as they walked in the street ahead, perpendicular to his. It took a moment for him to realize everything was okay and that he could breathe easy, there was no fire, there was no death around him. He breathed in deeply, his body calming, the adrenaline wearing away as the pain in his hands from white knuckling the steering wheel set in. It was only after all this, maybe twenty to thirty seconds of processing, that he finally acknowledged the increasingly worried person staring into his truck’s window.

“Barry! Thank God, are you good in there?!” They pleaded out to the man, worry and desperation screaming from their auburn eyes, as Mitch assessed Barry’s condition.

Some moments ago, Mitch was enjoying a stroll through the festival grounds towards the auction site, a cool lemonade in hand. They wore a tank top and jeans for the majority of the day, opting for their father’s old football varsity jacket to ward off the bite of the cool summer eve, GO DIMAONDBACKS!!!
Mitch had given their farm hands the day off to attend the summer festival, leaving them with only a few chores to handle themselves. They could have set up a booth at the festival, but corn could only get you so far when funnel cakes were being sold just three stalls over. Fried foods could have their day today, Mitch would be making a killing with their vegetables at the farmer’s market any other weekend. They had heard about how Javier was setting up the petting zoo and offered to volunteer their help, or at the very least check on the goats beforehand. He had said not to worry about it and that he’d already delegated that task to his children, which knowing if Stella was there, she’d have it under control. Overall it was a day that Mitch could fully enjoy, eat what they want, play what they want, and just do whatever they want. As for what they wanted, well that was hopefully to get a date at the auction and to maybe get the warm, fuzzy feelings that acts of altruism could bring.
It was only happenstance that Mitch walked by the alley where Barry had parked his old Ford F-150. They had visited him earlier in the morning upon his request as Maisy didn’t seem to be feeling up to snuff and knew that he’d be working around the festival grounds doing odd jobs here and there. Mitch had assured him that they’d be stopping by in a couple of days to check on Maisy’s condition, but they wondered if he’d been home at all and could give them more info. As Mitch approached the truck, panic began to set in as they witnessed a profusely sweating and distressed Barry, with no windows open. They were on the truck in seconds, pounding on the window and yelling his name through the glass, half a mind to break the window with whatever was readily available in that alleyway. Thankfully it never came to that, Barry woke up, bewildered and confused, but alive.

The man fumbled for the door handle as he tried to wipe the sweat from his face and pull the strands of hair that had plastered themselves to his forehead. When he did manage to get a grip and pull that lever to open his cage, never did the air feel so cold and so sweet on his damp face and body as it did in that moment. Before he could even thank Mitch, their lemonade was being shoved into his hands. More than readily did he bring the golden elixir to his lips as he chugged the sweet, tart and refreshing drink down his gullet. A ragged breath escaped his lips upon the last drop and his back fell into the cool metal of his truck, a further blessing in his eyes.

After several moments of awkward silence, Mitch broke it first, “You mind telling me why you thought baking yourself alive in your truck was a good idea?” A bit of a dark joke, sure, but anything to ease the turbulent anxiety in their mind, “Seriously, what happened?”

Barry had to think on that for a moment, he was helping with the festival that much was certain. A lot of people had asked for his help setting up, maintaining, cleaning and restocking their booths. Like a really good roadie, he managed to weave about the crowds of people without causing too much of a ruckus, only stopping for the briefest of moments to delegate himself the next task. The last few nights he’d been pretty restless, that same dream happening again and again. On top of that he was losing clients to the new construction company in town so he’d been taking on extra work to make ends meet. Less sleep added on top of the extra work meant that he caught whatever zzz’s he could in his truck. Normally this worked beautifully for him, but it looks like his recent patterns and choices were finally starting to catch up. He had already planned that he wasn’t going to be home for the rest of the day, and parked his truck intentionally out of the way so it wouldn’t be a bother. If Maisy were with him, she would have alerted someone sooner, but with her feeling well he had asked Mrs. Davis, the elderly lady next door to watch her for the day.
He shouldn’t have survived, not then and not today, and yet by some act of grace or perhaps simple circumstance, Mitch arrived in time to wake him up. ‘I need to schedule another session with Dr. Fitkau…’ The old veteran rubbed his temples as he explained what had happened to Mitch, not the dream, not the lingering regret that he wished he wasn’t here, just what led to him falling asleep.

“...I figure if you hadn’t shown up when you did, well…I’m sure someone would have found some authentic Canadian jerky in the morning.” He chuckled to that as he wiped the remnant sweat from his body after peeling the drenched shirt from his skin. Fortunately he kept a spare set of clothes in his truck and after making sure he was sufficiently dried, slipped on a plain white t-shirt before donning a thin flannel.

“Not funny Barry,” their words were betrayed by the small chuckle escaping their lips as Mitch spoke. Mitch had turned back towards the street as Barry cleaned himself up and gave him some privacy. Their hands interlocked and rested against the back of their head while their thumbs idly played with the small braid they had tied their hair back into. Despite hearing the whole thing from Barry, there was something egging them in the back of their mind, something that didn’t sit right, like he was hiding something. Whatever his reasoning was, Mitch didn’t figure he’d divulge it so readily with them anyway; best not to bring it up. “You need more rest Mister, you might actually look peaceful and less freaked out when you wake up to someone saving you.”

Barry paused at that and gave them a quizzical look, “Oh yea, I’m sure I’ll keep that in mind as I balance my checkbook for the week…” He did a final check over his things before locking up the truck

“You still use checks? Shit you’re old.” Mitch turned around to face the man as he stood in front of her.

“What’s wrong with using a check?” The older man eyed them with a raised brow.

“There are such things as debit and credit cards, you know? You can even just pop them over the scanner and boom, there goes your money.”

“Yeaaa and it’s talk like that, that scarred me as a child when my friends showed me Terminator 2 for the first time.” He tucked his hands in between his arms and sides, “Listen, thank you again for waking me up, but you should go and enjoy the festival.”

“Ohh no, you’re not gonna just up and get rid of me that easily,” They crossed their arms, a dirty glare in their eyes as they stared him down, “I’m not sure I’m convinced that you’re fine being on your own, so for the meantime, you’re stuck with me.”

Barry laughed at Mitch’s insistence, it’s not like he didn’t mind being around them, but lord help him if he didn’t feel like a kid being told he had to hold hands while crossing the street. Still, that look in their eyes told him that Mitch wasn’t going to just drop this. “Fine, fine. So long as wherever you’re going has something stiff to drink, it’s been a long day.”

“Barry…”, The rather unamused look spoke volumes.

“I’m joking, I’ll drink some water.” That was enough to satisfy Mitch it seemed and they gestured for him to follow, “Where are we going anyway?”

“To the auction of course!” Mitch exclaimed rather excitedly.

Barry’s enthusiasm was the exact opposite to their’s, “Seriously? You want to watch a bunch of loveless weirdos with too much time and money on their hands bid on potential matches? Whatever happened to just, I don’t know, asking someone to go out with them.”

“It’s not just about the potential for love, it’s for charity too you know! There’s something nice about being altruistic that gives me warm and fuzzy feelings.”

“Oh, so you’re planning to participate then? Sure that’s the only warm and fuzzy feeling you’re going for?”

Mitch lightly punched Barry in the arm, “So what if I am? I’m allowed to date and if some people want to line up and let me take them out, then hopefully my friends Ben and his brother Frank can help me make a convincing argument.” Mitch waved the two hundred notes teasingly at Barry.

“Okay, alright, you know what, this will be funny to watch you do, so let’s get to it.” A fire lit up in Barry, much to both Mitch’s elation and chagrin. As the two fast approached the auction area, it was clear from all the activity going on that the event was in full swing already. The pair made their way into the area, a stunning red headed woman was currently being auctioned off.

“Damn, am I too late? You think they’ll let me get in and participate?” Mitch asked as they scanned around for the registration area.

“Can’t imagine why they wouldn’t,” Barry shrugged, “who’s going to say no to someone who wants to spend money?”

Mitch was about to retort before the final bids rang out $1000! $1250! Sold for $1500!?!?! Their jaw dropped as they watched the redhead bombshell make her way off the stage to the winning bidder. Barry simply stood behind the dumbfounded human, a low whistle ringing through his lips as he leaned down beside them, “Hopefully you brought more friends with you other than just Ben and Frank?”





@LovelyComplex told me there was a party and that I should come join it
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