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Instar DivinerPermalink Reply by ✓ Wyatt Brookes on May 18, 2023 at 2:00

Taking a few steps back, Wyatt flexed his fingers and worked out the now dull pain in his knuckles after punching Fred with a great deal of satisfaction. Seeing that he was the cause of Fred's split lip was the cherry on top. He took another sip from his bottle and waited while Penelope coaxed the truth potion down their prisoner's throat. Oddly enough, he didn't put up much of a fight which made Wyatt's brow lift. Normally, most people wouldn't be too thrilled with the idea of being forced to drink something unknown while being held against their will, but it was almost like Fred knew what it was in that vial and wanted to spill his guts when it came to what it was he and his co-conspirators were up to. He was so fucking smug that he probably would've folded in telling them whatever they asked eventually just because he was so proud of it all.

Wyatt waited as the first question was asked. It was one he was dying to know as well, but the answer that came their way made his jaw relax, his lips parting slightly from the surprise. His eyes cut over to Pen momentarily at this revelation before looking back to Fred who continued on. His words made Wyatt's fist clench again as anger blurred his vision. Normally, he was very good at covering his tracks when it came to finding any magical artifacts and bringing them back safely to the Archives. How would Fred even know Wyatt would be the one to watch when it came to finding Penelope?

Perhaps a client? His mind drifted away for moment while he tried to remember all the people who had hired him recently to find something or maybe whomever he might've procured an item from. Maybe it somehow tracked back to him and they knew the Archives would be a place diviners from the area would store their things which would in turn lead to possibly finding Pen. He internally cursed at himself. 

Though he'd been concentrating more on backtracking where he might've been found out, Wyatt's mind whipped back into full focus with Fred's last statement. The clenched fist had found its target again as he crossed the space, connecting with the human's nose, and knocking him sideways once more. Sure, there were plenty of magical offensive strikes he could use against Fred, but there was nothing like hitting someone with a closed fist who truly deserved it. "Keep it up, smart ass, and it won't be just my right hook marking up that pretty face of yours." 

Wyatt glanced over to Penelope who seemed at a loss just then. They wanted the truth and now they were getting it, however difficult it might be to hear. "So you were hired. By whom?" The diviner's eyes began to glow a dim and threatening bright blue as indication that all the colorful commentary wasn't necessary, lest Fred wanted to graduate from getting punched to creative magical attacks. 

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Instar DivinerPermalink Reply by ✓ Penelope Winston on February 12, 2024 at 0:08

✧ Artifact Rescue✧

Penelope wasn’t one for violence and yet there was a small twinge of satisfaction as Wyatt’s fist connected with the man that used her as a puppet, who had used her cravement of another to catch her so full off guard. If she couldn’t even go on a date with a stranger she was better off locking herself away in The Archives. Questions swirled in her mind, she felt some relief that she was a prude it meant some part of her under his control had her guard up. Enough to not break the chastity she had been under for some time now. Pen felt the cock of her smirk as Wyatt crossed the room to knock that smirk off of Fred’s face.

Fred spit out the blood that had pooled in his mouth as he gave a weak laugh at Wyatt. “Can’t help it, I was born to be a smartass.” Licking the split lip that Wyatt had caused he felt his eyes rest upon Penelope once more before looking back to Wyatt. “Abraxas Bradford.” He said the name then looked back at Penelope to watch her reaction to the name.

Penelope went rigid, she felt her blood run cold. Her face became unreadable as her mind searched. There was no way, his death had been somewhat of a celebration among the City. Her gaze went to Wyatt, she had known the affection he had for the female Bradford twin. Did he know the cruelty that Abraxas had? She knew she had drunkenly one night told him all about her coven, and how Bradford took control of her mothers coven so easily. How the scar on her back came from the dagger he tried to place in Alfred’s heart.

Yet he couldn’t be lying as the truth potion was still in effect. She let out a breath she had been holding before moving closer to the man, her finger touched his temple. “I think you are mistaken. Abraxas was decimated by his own children.” She said, “so whomever is running around using his name to strike fear into the hearts of those who once groveled to his will. Is just a copycat, a fake, and I will make sure to put his head on a pike next to yours.” She growled out as a small shock went from her finger into his brain. She watched as the pain crossed his face as she let the old darkness seep into her veins.

Fred's body stiffened in pain as he groaned out before whimpering out. “When he finds you, he will finish placing that blade through your heart.” He felt his eyes roll back as the pain of the electric shock caused him to fall backwards in the cell. Penelope took hold of Wyatt's arm and pulled him out before putting the box back around Fred. “He…can’t be alive.” Penelope said as she moved back towards the main hall away from the cells. “I could plant a tracker in Fred and let him lead us to the imposter.” She muttered as she felt that ball of magic twisting in her stomach wanting to lash out.

Her body trembling at the thought of Abraxas alive and roaming the streets. She hadn’t felt such pure anger in a long time. So much so she had an aura of red magic waving off her. The Hall seemed to be locking away the dangerous items the more Penelope moved. As if sensing that she was going to lose her hold on her magic. The pain of that night, of watching her mother die then her father even though she tried to save him. All because she was a little lonely. How stupid could she be?

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Instar DivinerPermalink Reply by ✓ Wyatt Brookes on March 2, 2024 at 14:58

Abraxos Bradford.

The color instantly drained from his face. Wyatt stilled completely and every bit of anger and annoyance at the asshole in front of him vanished as his mind went wholly blank. His gaze lowered to the floor, darting back and forth while he reeled himself back in and tried to work out what was just said. That bastard had destroyed more lives than he could count including two of the most important people in his world and killing another that was like a father to him. He was supposed to be dead. Unless... maybe a powerful artifact of resurrection or some deal with a dark diviner to bring him ba- No. No, Abraxos Bradford was dead and Wyatt wasn't going to put any weight into any other theory. Yet.

His widened eyes swung to Penelope the moment hers turned to find him. He could see she had been just as thrown as he was from the admission. Listening to her, he stayed firmly in place as she waved off what Fred had told them. She too apparently didn't believe what he was saying or at least didn't show that she did in front of their new guest. It was the hand to play, given the fact that the serum was still working its way through Fred's system. There must've been someone else out there using Abraxos's name, knowing it would strike horror into Penelope, given that he'd murdered her parents.   

Wyatt felt a swell of satisfaction watching Penny send a shock of searing pain through Fred. He could see the asshole's teeth chatter, his muscles seizing. Still, Fred pushed through the pain for a moment to send a death warning her way at the hands of this imposter. It was all the energy he could muster up as drool leaked from the corner of his mouth and he toppled over backward finally into unconsciousness. Wyatt hadn't realized he was clenching his fists tightly at his sides with the need to hit Fred again or hit anything in the general vicinity of where he stood until Penelope took his arm to usher them out of the cell.

He blinked to let the boiling anger vanish as they came into the hall and moved away from earshot. Wyatt let his head fall backward and pushed out a breath through his nose, his eyes closed to collect himself. He immediately shook his head in agreement of Penelope's first words to him. "He's not." The words were firm and final. They had to be in order for him to truly believe it and hopefully her as well. The alternative... "No, no, a tracker will be too obvious. I'm sure whoever he's working for would look."

Wyatt let his focus finally fall on her. He could see her shaking. The pulsing of magic around her danced chaotically. The Archives answered in turn, his head swiveling to watch as it began to go on the defensive, the audible sounds of locks clicking and turning in the distance while it worked to protect itself from its own keeper. 

"Hey," Wyatt calmly began, reaching out to squeeze her upper arms and then cupping her face with both hands. "Look at me." His hues searched hers, though the red tint that circled her normally soft green eyes seemed to be swirling. "We got this. Don't let whoever this is throw you off your game. Whatever they were up to, they failed in their first move, right?" He nodded over his shoulder toward the cells. "That asshat didn't get whatever it was he was sent after and we're a step closer to finding who has his leash." His thumbs stroked her cheeks softly. "We just have to keep our heads and figure out our next move, okay?" 

His face lifted slightly to glance absentmindedly towards the rest of the massive library behind them, his thoughts spinning. "Maybe we can find something else that could help," he commented quietly to himself mostly. An expansive collection of magical artifacts. If this person was after something specific here or Penelope or both, they could find something within these walls in retaliation too. Wyatt's attention moved back to her, his hands falling down to rest on her shoulders. "We good?"

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Instar DivinerPermalink Reply by ✓ Penelope Winston on April 28, 2024 at 12:37

✧ Artifact Rescue✧

The synchronicity between them was not uncommon, but Abraxas was dead. The weight of his demise, coupled with what the Bradford children had done and Isaiah's passing, cast a palpable fear that could shake the souls of many. She suspected Abraxas's associates would attempt to wield his name to feign power, yet for a fleeting moment, she entertained the thought of his survival, shocking her to her core. His visage still haunted her nightmares sporadically to this day.

The urgency of the situation was evident. "Yes, you're right. We need to be strategic in our approach, containing the situation and preventing it from escalating," Penelope acknowledged, feeling the tug of self-control teetering on the brink, threatening to plunge her into the chaos she could unleash. The Archives, a sentient being, safeguarded some of the most perilous artifacts, capable of unleashing havoc surpassing even a nuclear war. She struggled to recall a time when she had felt so shaken.

A surge of magic roared in her ears; she flinched at the squeeze on her arm, redirecting her focus to the warmth of his hands cupping her face. Drawing a deep breath, her instinctive response to his presence calmed her. Wyatt possessed an uncanny ability to provide solace in her darkest moments. The torrent of magic that had enveloped her gradually receded. "Yes, you're right," she murmured softly, the crimson hue fading from her eyes as his thumbs traced soothing patterns along her cheeks. Her hands found purchase on his wrist, and after several steadying breaths, she nodded. "Yes, of course. At least I'm not alone," she reassured him in her melodic tone. "Yes, we're good."

In response, The Archives began to reopen itself to its keeper and honorary guard. "The true challenge lies in discerning what might prove beneficial. We remain uncertain whether Imposobrax is of nephilim descent or something more sinister," she lamented, her sigh trailing off. As if in response to her musings, a pile of leather-bound books materialized on the study table, causing Penelope to startle at the sudden noise reverberating through the halls. "Couldn't you have alerted me to the attempted break-in?!" she exclaimed, directing her frustration toward The Archives. At times, it felt akin to dealing with a wayward sibling, dispensing knowledge only in moments of desperation.

Approaching the table, she gingerly picked up one of the leather-bound tomes, flipping it open to a random page. Her eyes widened in astonishment as she scanned the elegant cursive script. Returning to the beginning, she stumbled upon a name emblazoned in bold, sharing the revelation with Wyatt. "I believed Abraxas to be a friend, yet I've come to realize he is a demon masquerading as an angel. However, what he doesn't know is that I am not the end of my bloodline. I must buy time, keep my enemy close. So M is safe," she read aloud, her voice tinged with guilt as she acknowledged the reference to Monica, her deceased coven name.

"Did you know Alfred and Abraxas were acquainted? Not merely acquainted, but intimately so?" she inquired, sinking wearily into one of the chairs. The events of the day had left her feeling drained. Delving into her father's journals, unraveling his innermost thoughts, felt akin to trespassing, yet she pressed on, turning to the next page. There had to be a reason The Archives had led them to these revelations.

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Instar DivinerPermalink Reply by ✓ Wyatt Brookes on December 19, 2024 at 18:20

Wyatt nodded as she confirmed she was alright, the tenseness that had seized her body slipping away slightly. The sound of the Archives releasing some of its lockdown echoed around them and his eyes lifted to glance around at the noises. He gave her a smirk and dropped his hands from her shoulders, but startled at the slamming of the books the Archives had deposited on the table. "Would be nice if it did that for me more often when I'm researching," he murmured and followed Penelope to see what they were being pushed to.  

Folding another slice of pizza, his eyes scanned the spines of the books. Journals. He recognized some of them belonging to Winston and smiled at the memory of the old man. For years it seemed he was training Wyatt to take over the Archives. He knew the ins and outs of this place. Or so he thought. Winston had quickly reminded him that even he didn't know everything. None of the keepers did and never would. The Archives were a marvel and an enigma.

So when it was revealed there was an heir in his family, Wyatt had felt a bit disappointed the title of keeper wouldn't be coming to him. He was a damn apprentice, after all. However, all of those feelings had quickly vanished when Pen came into the picture. Wyatt would've done anything Winston asked, even if that meant training her when he was gone. Be her friend, guide, and protector. It was like he knew his death was coming for years and wanted Wyatt to be the one to help his daughter take the mantle because he wouldn't be around to do it himself. The reason for teaching him everything. The one thing he could give her when he had been absent her whole life.

Wyatt practically shoved the whole slice into his mouth as he looked over her shoulder to see what she was reading. His hues quickly scanned the words, brow scrunching in confusion. He chewed and swallowed more than he should've in his rush to answer, clearing his throat and wishing for his beer again. "No, no he never mentioned him," he replied to Penelope, reading more of the entry on the pages. "There were so many people coming and going around here..." The words trailed off. The idea of Abraxos Bradford wandering these halls with all the powerful knowledge and items within its walls was not comforting.

He watched her move to the chair as his mind worked out what Winston had meant. "'End of my bloodline,'" he repeated the written words. "You think Abraxos was hoping to take the Archives once he passed? The reason to kill him?" What a bastard. He chewed the crust and then folded his arms over his chest. "It's a damn good motive. He must've been pissed when he found out you existed. Perhaps he told someone about it or someone found out from something he left behind after his death. Like we are now with Winston's journals."

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Instar DivinerPermalink Reply by ✓ Penelope Winston on January 1, 2025 at 0:44

✧ Artifact Rescue✧

Penelope couldn't suppress the smile that spread across her face as she watched Wyatt mention having to navigate the labyrinthine archives. "But it's so much more entertaining watching you run around the archives. Also, you never asked," she teased, her voice light and playful as she savored a slice of pizza. Her eyes followed Wyatt as he perused the journals, likely reflecting on the man he was once close to, someone she had only known briefly. She caught a flicker of disappointment in his eyes and often pondered whether he harbored any resentment towards her for becoming the keeper, simply by virtue of her lineage. In her heart, she regarded him as much a keeper as she was—if not more—because he had been her mentor and friend.

Yet, now was not the time for such discussions. Their attention needed to be on the pressing matter of who would want to breach the sanctity of the archives and how Abraxas, supposedly dead, could be involved. As if responding to Wyatt's raspy throat, the library obligingly produced another beer in front of him. "I guess things are different since I don't let many into the hall, especially with the Aspects balance being so strained," she mused, flipping through the pages of the journal.

"The archives have been tied to the Winston bloodline since their inception with the Aspects. The only way to sever that bond would be to end the bloodline. But the fool doesn't realize that the Aspects would simply assign another bloodline to the archives. Like Wyatt’s," she continued, a hint of wistfulness in her voice. "Though I wish he was blood, he is safer not being blood. M is secure under her mother's protection, living in solitude. The only way Abraxas could seize the archives would be by capturing M and grooming her as a pawn. Thankfully, no one knows of her existence, not even Wyatt, which has been a challenge to conceal."

She cast a glance at Wyatt before gently setting the journal aside. "The motive is clear, and somehow Abraxas learned of me, positioning himself as a savior to the coven," she said, rolling her eyes as her fingers traced the familiar loops of her father's handwriting. "He intended to kill my mother, myself, and Alfred, which would have ended the bloodline, thereby locking the archives away until the Aspects found a new keeper."

As she spoke, Penelope found herself thinking aloud, piecing together memories from that fateful night. "The archives were locked up when I arrived there that first night, trying to keep us safe. It only allowed you to pass." A sigh escaped her lips. "It had to be passed to another after all Abraxas is meant to be expired, and that person needed some knowledge of the archives, given the items that were taken." She bit her bottom lip, her mind a whirl of fragmented thoughts. "Ew," she exclaimed, her face contorting with horror. "Whoever this is wants to get me pregnant because they couldn't groom me. They want an heir to create a pawn." The very notion of someone invading her body without her consent made her stomach turn. She looked at Wyatt, her expression a mixture of disguised and vulnerability, knowing they had much to unravel and even more to protect.

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Instar DivinerPermalink Reply by ✓ Wyatt Brookes on February 25, 2025 at 18:03

Wyatt walked over and reached for the new beer with a smile, tipping it up in thanks towards the sentient being that was the Archives. Opening it, he took a much needed pull from the cool liquid, brow pushing forward in concentration as Pen read from her father's journal. His heart strained at hearing his old mentor's words. Alfred was always looking out to protect not only his biological daughter, but Wyatt himself. He didn't tell the old man how much he appreciated him enough. He did wish the keeper would've passed the truth of his bloodline onto him anyway. Wyatt would've shared that burden if he'd been allowed. He'd have done anything that man wanted him to.

His tongue rolled forward slowly on his lips in thought before parting slightly in surprise at her realization. "Talk about the long game," he replied with disgust. Wyatt supposed if whoever it was behind this had forced Penelope to unlock the Archives, there were too many variables at play. First, she could lock down the building into full security mode once they were inside with her. Her safety didn't so much matter in the end. She'd give her life to keep this place protected. Second, even if they did something like try and come for Wyatt as a bargaining chip to make her do what they wanted, it would still be the same; He would tell her to keep the Archives safe, his life be damned. In fact, he didn't even have to say it. It was just understood. No one's life was more valuable than what was kept within these walls.

Getting her pregnant could seem a viable road if not a seriously prolonged one. Gaining her trust now or even having the helm got them access inside. A start to learning the Archives secrets. Then a baby would be an extension of the bloodline, Penelope not being needed anymore if they so chose. The kid was simply a key to get in. His stomach was suddenly not glad for pizza as it turned with the revelations.

"So, what's the play then?" he asked, pushing against the trickle of dread creeping in. "Where do we start looking for whoever is playing at being Abraxos?" Wyatt leaned forward on the heavy desk, beer still in hand. "Old business partners? Maybe some of his properties..." He didn't want to go to Clarissa. In fact, he wanted to keep all of this as far away as possible from her. "Maybe the journals will have some more clues on where to start." Reaching over, he grabbed the next one on top of the pile. A deep blue leather bound journal with lightly spotted deckled pages. The diviner remembered seeing the old man writing in it specifically in his study causing a soft smile to form. 

Wyatt sat in a nearby leather chair and kicked his feet up on the heavy wooden table, surrendering to the idea that they might be reading for a while. "We might need more food."

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Instar DivinerPermalink Reply by ✓ Penelope Winston on April 26, 2025 at 15:59

✧ Artifact Rescue✧

Penelope watched as Wyatt reached for the new beer, a small smile tugging at her lips as he tipped it in gratitude towards the sentient Archives. The sight of him taking a long pull from the cool liquid brought a sense of normalcy to the chaos swirling around them. Yet, as he listened to her read from her father's journal, she noticed the strain in his brow, a reflection of the emotions that came with recalling Alfred's protective nature. She could sense the weight of unspoken gratitude he carried—how much he appreciated the old man for always looking out for both her and himself. The thought made her heart ache; they were all bound by the threads of sacrifice and duty.

As she continued to speak, the realization of what they might be facing seeped into the atmosphere, and she could see the disgust wash over Wyatt’s features. Penelope nodded, her own stomach twisting in response to the implications of their predicament. If whoever was behind this had forced her to unlock the Archives, it meant they were leveraging too many variables. She knew she would give her life to protect this place, and she could sense that Wyatt felt the same way. Their bond was unspoken but deep, threading them together in shared purpose.

The implications of someone wanting to get her pregnant sent shivers down her spine. The very thought of being used as a pawn in someone else's game made her nauseous, and she glanced at Wyatt, searching for reassurance. His expression mirrored her fear, but she also saw a determination that ignited a flicker of hope within her. They were not alone in this; they had each other.

As he suggested old business partners and properties, Penelope felt a surge of clarity. They had to dig deep, uncover the connections that could lead them to the heart of this threat. "Yes," she agreed, her voice steadying as her mind raced with possibilities. “We need to start tracing his steps, looking for anyone who might have something to gain from this chaos. The journals could hold more than just memories; they might reveal hidden alliances or enemies.”

Wyatt's soft smile as he picked up the deep blue leather journal made her heart swell with nostalgia. She remembered seeing her father write in it, pouring his thoughts onto the pages with care in her dreams. It was a connection to his wisdom that she desperately needed now. As he settled into a nearby leather chair, kicking his feet up on the heavy wooden table, Penelope felt a sense of resolve wash over her.

“More food sounds perfect,” she replied, her spirits lifting slightly. “We’ll need our strength for this.” Penelope leaned back in her chair, allowing herself a moment of calm amidst the storm brewing around them. "Let’s dive into the journals and see what secrets they hold." Hours passed as they delved deeper into the archives, sifting through pages filled with cryptic notes and faded memories. Their search was intense, the air thick with the weight of their discoveries and the urgency of their situation. Just as they began to feel the fatigue of their long hours, a delivery of Chinese food came—steaming containers filled with fragrant dishes that instantly lifted their spirits.

As they took a break to enjoy the feast, Penelope finally opened one of the older books. The spine creaked as she flipped through the pages, and her breath caught in her throat when something slipped out and fell into her lap.

Curious, she picked it up—a small, ornate key, its surface glinting in the dim light. Attached to it was a note, yellowed and delicate, the handwriting unmistakable. Her heart raced as she read aloud, "Wyatt, son, if you have gotten this deep into my journals, it could mean there is trouble blooming. Take the key and venture to my room. The key should take you from there. Good luck. Keep the archives, and her safe."

Penelope’s eyes widened, the implications of the note crashing over her like a tidal wave. She looked at Wyatt, her expression shifting as she handed him the key. "I’ve never been able to find my father’s room after waking up in it the night he saved me," she admitted, a hint of vulnerability in her voice. "Maybe this key will finally lead us there." The weight of their discovery hung in the air, a promise of answers waiting to be uncovered a danger that her father had anticipated, enough to leave a clue for the one person he trusted most. Wyatt.

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