New flash series! I’m going to write one flash for every Icon I have, over 4 LJ accounts, 1 DW, and a whole bunch of not-currently-in-use, until I get bored or run out of icons.

This is in line with Addergoole‘s main timeline, and takes place around Chapter 141-2.

This is going to end badly. But I think that’s okay. Worried and stressed, Jamian didn’t want to go back to the suite yet. He might be the only empath in the crew, but that didn’t mean the rest of them weren’t observant (except Ty, but that was an issue for another day). The Library didn’t seem to like him, the Store bored him, and the Arcade would be full of people.

That left the Village – also full of people, many of them small people and far too many of those Ty’s offspring – and the grotto.

The doors to the grotto were still nearly-invisible, even when the doors to the outside were cooperating, but he managed to find a knob after three tries – and thank god there weren’t any invisible students wandering around, or he’d have run the risk of accidentally groping them – and stepped into the lush rain-forest atmosphere of the indoor garden.

The vines liked to reach out for the unwary, but he found if he stuck to the middle of the path, very few could reach. Perhaps they were pruned that way? Someone had to take care of this place, after all.

Focused on the foliage and the path, the first he saw of the other person was his shoes – black, combat boots, scuffed around the edges. That could be any number of Addergoole students; he looked up further – black pants, no help there – and further up still. The long, dour, Masked face of Aviv greeted him.

Okay, I got to that, and it was 250 words exactly and I said… well, poo, that’s mean, even for me, but I don’t have another Jamian icon coming up any time soon… hey. I just got an Aviv icon. So this one is out of sequence.

Icon & Art by Catfaice

Aviv glowered at the interloper. He just wanted a few minutes of peace, not to deal with more Fifth drama. Especially not Fifth drama attached to Ty, who was notorious for going overboard in protection of his Kept. There had been that one time someone had made a grab for Shiva… no, not the sort of thing he wanted to get embroiled in, much less be the one responsible for starting a crew war.

From the look on the kid’s face, he was having a similar train of thought. Good. He held up both gloved hands, palms facing the little Daeva. “I’m just looking for some peace and quiet.”

The kid looked him up and down – Jamian, that was his name, right? In Ardell’s cy’ree. And Ty’s. – and clearly noted the guitar, although what else he was noticing – damn succubi – was anyone’s bet. He nodded slowly and showed his hands, mirroring Aviv’s gesture. “Me, too,” he confessed.

A heartbeat passed, and another. They were blocking each other’s path, on a route too narrow to step aside without risking the poisonous vines – and whose idea, Aviv thought sourly, had it been to put poisonous vines in a student hide-out?

Aviv opened his mouth to say something – anything, even, “so, are you going to move?” – to find that Jamian had done the same. Well, let him talk first. Aviv had done his turn on the bottom rung.

“Quipia Tlacatl Jamian oro’Tya(*),” he murmured, and stepped off the path. “It’s a big grotto.”

(*)Preserve the Flesh of Jamian, owned by Tya

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