Hiccup

Odd hiccup in my reality, currently.

Sitting in a beat up ass old truck, waiting on Ares to finish negotiations with a shady ass contact of ours.

Mid negotiations, a random stray ally comes wandering up wanting to talk, of all things.

Circumstances being what they are, we can't exactly shoo him away or let on to what is happening.

So rather than finishing out our business and going back to the safehouse we're currently occupying, we're stuck here humoring this guy's 'enthusiastic' ramblings about the glory of the Wretched Man.

Only, he thinks he's 'God.'

Nattering on about the coincidences of life, numerology, encoded messages from strangers that know him on sight. How his life 'miraculously' changed as soon as he made contact with these strangers, and he found well paying work as soon as he laid hands on drug addicts and advocating for their children to 'come home.'

Begins showing us images of runes and sigils that he has begun to see popping up in his life. Clearly identifiable markings of the Fears.

I bite my tongue to the point of drawing blood, my anxiety flaring to epic proportions. I let Ares do the talking, and quietly sit working on my Spanish lessons to prep for an upcoming mission.

I want more than anything to speak up, educate the poor young kid on the reality he has found himself in. But, I simply can't.

~

Anger is as common as breathing to Ares. Between that, and his penchant for weapons and violence, it becomes increasingly clear why he earned his title.

It becomes a constant war to be in his company.

I tell myself frequently, "This is it. The last time. This went too far" or "I can't do this anymore."

Then just like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, his mood and personality shift like Mercury and there is the Hanged Man. Or, at least, the version of him that has manifested this time. It gets a bit confusing when there have been so many faces to learn.

~

As Ares likes to remind me, daily it seems, I am not.. who I was meant to be.

There is a choice that I have been faced with since I returned to this place. This time.

To be human. 'Normal.' Flawed. To feel empathy, and fear, and compassion, and longing.

Or.. to allow myself to continue along the path I started earlier this year.

To fully embrace being one of Them. The Others. The ones without mercy, or understanding.

I have continuously toed the line of humanity and Fae. To stay, well, a half-breed.

I did what I did, made the sacrifices I made, in order to obtain the knowledge and state of being necessary to start over in the world, in this time. To have half a shot of fighting the darkness that has been encroaching at the edges of our sight for years untold.

I bargained away a part of myself to become More.

I've been struggling with this fact ever since.

There are many that view me to be an abomination. A freak of nature. An.. aberration.

That which is not meant to be here.

Ares, among others, wish for me to continue the process that I began.

That I will be incapable of doing what needs to be done otherwise.

He refers to my lingering humanity as something ugly, wrong, tainted.

Promises me the world, a place at his side, a permanent ally in him, and.. love.

I am consistently tempted by this. The man that carries my heart inside his chest.

I have been able to slow the natural process considerably, but..

I can't seem to stop it entirely.

My facial features, my body, my aura itself have begun to noticeably change.

Nothing that I can't play off, or hide, or diminish through the use of misdirection.

But.. those that know me well have begun to approach me, quietly, to point out the tells.

Ares is proud, and sees this as a positive sign.

Still rages that it is a slow process, but is otherwise pleased by what he sees.

As for me.. I am afraid.

I don't know if any of this will be reversible.

Or who I will be inside once it is all said and done.