In a few hours, I’m going to be banished to the surface, my belongings raffled off as novelty items and my living space given to someone else—my reputation destroyed. I’d rather have your head than your soul at this point in my illustrious career.” - Al
Be reasonable. I know you can be. If you try very, very hard.” - Al to Rachel
God, it stinks,” I said, hand over my nose as he pulled me into a long step. Al strode forward, head high. “It’s the stench of bureaucracy, my itchy-witch, and why I chose to go into human resources when but a wee lad.
Hey,” the other said, coming to life. “You’re supposed to be in jail.” Al grinned at him, his white-gloved grip tightening on the wooden handle, which was intricately carved in the shape of a naked, writhing woman. Nice. “And your momma wanted you to have a brain,” he said, yanking the door open and slamming it into the guy’s face.
You!” she said, stepping forward with a vehement expression and her finger pointed. Heart pounding, I pressed into Al. Funny how he seemed so much safer now. (Newt, Rachel and Al)
Newt spun, making her robe unfurl. “He’s my familiar, bought and paid for. I can claim anything of his. Even his life.” Al cleared his throat nervously. “That’s good to know,” he said lightly. “Important safety tip. Rachel, write that down somewhere as lesson number one.
I can think of a lot of things to do," he said, "and none of them involve standing up. - Al
Where did he go!” he bellowed, gloved hands clenching. “I had him in a snare that would take Alexander the Great a lifetime to untwist, and he did it in a week!” Al took a step, pinwheeling as his booted heel found an ice cube.
It stinks of trains and that chili with the chocolate in it. Ooooh, books!" he exclaimed suddenly, making a beeline for the small library. (Al)
Rachel, my itchy witch," Al said as he tugged the lace at his cuffs. "We've talked about this. You simply must stop collecting nasty little men. How many do you really need, love?
I pushed him away, catching Lee's awe that I was not only standing with a demon outside a circle, but that Al was treating me like an equal. Or maybe a favorite pet, I amended as Al caught me when I started to tilt.
Somehow I found him. Somehow I found Al's sarcastic thoughts, bitter and old. Tired, angry, bored. Alone.
Ku’Sox was indeed a demon. In. The. Sun. I needed answers, but I wanted them from Al, not…Cute Socks here.
A devious spark lit through Al, making me smile. One way. It costs too much, he said. “There’s no inflation in the ever-after, Al.” Call it a recession then. One way.
No exclusive,” I said aloud, watching Al for his opinion and seeing him shake his head and hold his hands out in a “bigger” gesture. He didn’t even know how large the offer was, and he thought I could get one bigger.
A demon was asking me what I wanted. My eyes flicked to Al, and he shrugged. “What do you want?” he said softly.
You tried to slide his original curse back onto him?” Al said in wonder. “At the restaurant? And I stopped you? Sweet mother pus bucket!” he exclaimed, and I swear, dust sifted from the ceiling. “Rachel, we have to work on this communication thing.
He was decisive and wholehearted in everything he did, so intent on the task at hand that he never looked over his shoulder, even if his cloak got caught in a thorny bush. When he did turn to speak to somebody, he used to swing his entire body and address him full face. When he shook hands, he was never the first to withdraw his own. He inspired such confidence that he was known as al-Amin, the Reliable One.
Al's red eyes slid past me to Pierce. "Play?" he said, his voice dripping with interest. "Gordian Nathaniel Pierce's quirks are legendary. Why do you think I want the runt so badly? Size truly doesn't matter if you can do what he can." ~ Algaliarept, Black Magic Sanction, Kim Harrison
Courageous? Courageous would have been admitting weakness and leaving Dauntless, no matter what shame accompanied it. Pride is what killed Al, and it is the flaw in every Dauntless heart. It is in mine.
Rhoda comes now, having slipped in while we were not looking. She must have made a tortuous course, taking cover now behind a waiter, now behind some ornamental pillar, so as to put off as long as possible the shock of recognition, so as to be secure for one more moment to rock her petals in her basin. We wake her. We torture her. She dreads us, she despises us, yet she comes cringing to our sides because for al our cruelty there is always some name, some face which sheds a radiance, which lights up her pavements and makes it possible for her to replenish her dreams.
I sighed. "And what am I to you, Al?" "My maid," he said brightly. "Shall we do this?
Al walks in, and I don't even have to ask him to help me, he just walks over and strips bedding with me. i will have to scrub the frame later. Al carries the stack of sheets to the trash and together we walk toward the training room. "Ignore him," Al says. "He's an idiot, and if you don't get angry, he'll stop eventually.
And don't pay attention to Christina. Your face doesn't look that bad." He smiles a little. "I mean, it looks good. It always looks good. i mean--you look brave. Dauntless." His eyes skirt mine, and he scratches the back of his head. The silence grows between us. It was a nice thing to say, but he acts like it means more than just words. I hope I am wrong. I could not be attracted to Al-- I could not be attracted to anyone that fragile. I smile as much as my bruised cheek will allow, hoping that will diffuse the tension.
Without thinking, I grab Al's arm and squeeze it as tightly as I can. I just need something to hold on to. Blood runs down the side of Christina's face and splatters on the ground next to her cheek. This is the first time I have ever prayed for someone to fall unconscious.... Al frees his hand and pulls me tight to his side. I clench my teeth to keep from crying out.
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