[FRAG] Grieve in Blood

"You think Pretty did what you asked him to?"

Magnotris stared at the mirror. He didn't particularly like the way his hair fell around his cheeks at the moment, or the way his glasses skidded down his muzzle. There wasn't enough time to pause and fix it, though. He ran a hand through his hair, thin and rough, parting it through his fingers before it sprang back into place.

Morning Star stared at him, the other's wide eyes and slightly-open mouth framed in the background of the mirror. Magnotris turned on his heel, affectionately ruffling Morning Star's hair for a second. 

"If he didn't, I'll go punch his teeth out." Magnotris adjusted his collar as he stepped over to his desk, staring at the array of items. 

He picked up a set of papers, magicking them into a personal pocket dimension. Fingers tapped against the steel until he picked up his gun as well, slipping it into the inside of his jacket. 

"You don't have to come, Morning Star," he said, softly, flicking the gun on. It whined as the power surged, and he flicked off. Perfect.

Morning Star stood, hands laced over his lap politely, "It's okay! I'd like to!"

Magnotris glanced over. He looked adorable, dressed to the nines in a tuxedo. Morning Star normally wore formalwear, but he just looked so precious in it. Magnotris had to physically restrain himself from planting a kiss on the other's cheek.

Aw, fuck it. They were dating. 

He leaned forward and pecked the other. Morning Star flushed red, ducking his head slightly. 

"Alright. Stay near me, alright? Sometimes they get jumpy and run." Magnotris glanced outside. The 'sun' was beginning to creep down. "Are you bringing your hourglass?"

Morning Star lifted the chain, which had been hidden by his collar. "Yeah."

"Alright. C'mon." he reached out his hand. Morning Star daintily curled fingers around his. Magnotris squeezed his hand, and teleported them.

-------------------------

The tray, sitting on the table, held all of the vials he'd passed off to Pretty. Magnotris let out a brief sigh that he hadn't known he was holding. It wasn't that he hadn't expected the other to uphold his part of the deal; Pretty was rather reliable. But depending on other people to do vital parts of his plan? Now, that was deeply terrifying. There was no way to make it hold together. No way to ensure it went well. Trust was a fickle thing.

Morning Star squeezed his hand.

Magnotris turned his gaze around the rest of the jail, drinking in the sights. It was dark and dim, but not grimy or moldy; it was immaculate, in fact. Cells, most empty, lined both sides of the hallway. Opalescent was in the nearest to the right, choked with some sort of magic-dampening cuffs and collar. He couldn't see any of the other residents at the moment; he and Morning Star were far above, in the viewing rooms overlooking the entire thing. There were a few other Fragments here, but Magnotris ignored them.

It was shaped like an exclamation point, with a large, circle-shaped room at the end, and a long hallway of cells. 

A few other Fragments - the ones that actually worked in this division - were reading over a few papers. They were the official documents from the trial ruling. Magnotris hadn't attended. He wasn't sure if he'd be able to control himself if it went poorly. Morning Star deserved justice.

But it had. There was nothing to worry about. Nothing to stress about. Opalescent had been convicted. Magninium smuggling. Addiction, even. 

It was almost pitiable. 

Morning Star stepped closer. Magnotris laid his head on the other's shoulder. Opal stared at them, wordlessly, an unreadable expression on their face. Anger, frustration, malice, hatred, Magnotris wasn't sure which it was. Maybe it was all three. He didn't blame them, of course.

But they chose to fuck with him. Nobody fucked with Magnotris and got away with it.

"Degree Five? Really?" one of the jailers mumbled, putting a hand over their mouth, eyes glued to the papers. They were only audible thanks to the microphones that they all wore. "That severe?"

"Guess they're really trying to crack down. Put a message - a warnin' out," another commented, stepping away nonchalantly. They procured a vial from a cabinet, full of bubbling pink liquid. 

Magnotris watched. Another opened the door of Opal's cell, gesturing. They almost didn't move, eyes still digging into Magnotris, but heaved up when the jailer tapped impatiently on the bars. How mortal, this entire setup was. How mortal.

Opal was guided to the center of the circle-shaped room, and pushed onto their hands and knees. Morning Star drew even closer, hiding his face. He was scared. Magnotris let his eyelids droop, regarding the goings-on with an almost-bored expression. There was no reason to be scared, or fearful. Opal was getting what was coming to them. They chose to shoot Morning Star. These were the consequences.

The jailer who gripped the vial - Magnotris recognized them, now: Soap - stepped up behind Opalscent. The syringe was pointed at the back of their head, directly at the area where a spinal cord would sit in a mortal. Opal still hadn't taken their eyes off Magnotris, staring defiantly. 

Soap's expression was empty. This was familiar. This was normal. 

The syringe was pushed in, and Opal flinched, eyes snapping shut. Magnotris didn't move his, even as Morning Star trembled. He wrapped an arm around the other's waist comfortingly. There was nothing to fear. 

"You didn't have to come if you didn't want to," Magnotris' voice was below a whisper, pressed into Morning Star's ear.

He didn't respond.

Opalescent's eyes flew open as the first wave of pain hit. The jailers all took several steps back, one hitting a button on the wall. Glass; magically enchanted and created, rose out of the floor, boxing Opal in. Magnotris knew why. 

Their eyes were locked onto him again, wide, in fear. He tilted his head just a smidge, and let a smirk slowly crawl up his face. Opal deserved this. They deserved this.

Magnotris couldn't keep the raw glee out of his face as loud cracking announced the beginning. Opal's back split open, blood leaking desperately from their haphazard spine. Something visceral and flesh wrenched its way out of their organs, and they screamed, the new limb twisting and warping.

They hit the floor, one arm snapping and curling uncontrollably, bones prodding out of the flesh at separate angles. They were no longer staring at Magnotris as the poison chewed through their body, bending it in ways that not even the most grotesque artist could illustrate. It kept them sane, aware, awake, through the ordeal. 

Degree Five. Second-most severe punishment. Decomposure and deformation of the body, for approximately twelve hours. No recourse until the ordeal was over, and then their sentence was up, they were free to reintegrate.

Magnotris smiled. 

-------------------------

He wasn't sure why they put bathrooms in this building. 

Magnotris leaned against the door of the stall, lighting a cigarette. It wasn't like Fragments needed it. Well, maybe. There were those creepy fetish ones, probably. Still, his point remained: why put these in such a public building? He blew a ring of smoke. Ah, he knew. Because it was what the mortals did, and they'd based half of their world around what the mortals did. The mortals needed bathrooms. So did they. 

Morning Star retched again, and Magnotris winced. He could hear the way the bile burned the other's throat. At least the bathrooms were providing use here, in privacy. 

He glanced into the stall. Morning Star was still on his knees, bent over the toilet, hands clutching the immaculate sink. His head was bowed, ears flat against his skull. There was pain all up and down his posture.

His voice was hoarse. "I don't know how you could watch that."

"Got used to it when I was younger." Magnotris pulled his cigarette back to his lips. "I used to sit there and watch them for hours. Degree Five's rare."

"I don't understand how."

Magnotris softly blinked, staring at his reflection in the mirror. There was no way he could explain in a way Morning Star would accept. How could he say that it was to steel himself, to brace his body and mind for the horrors of the world? To strap himself in and expose himself to pure torture, pure pain, given by the people he worked for, and force himself to accept it? To prepare himself for everything outside the Coalition's walls?

He couldn't. Morning Star would fight him. Morning Star would say that it wasn't true, that wasn't how the world worked, it was optimistic and idealistic. That was what he had always loved about Morning Star. Take the boy to one of the most brutal torture sessions imaginable, and he'd still insist it was a fluke, that it didn't need to happen.

With a flick of his cigarette, Magnotris answered: "I couldn't tell you."

Morning Star vomited again.

-------------------------

Magnotris pulled the blanket further up over Morning Star's shoulders. The other sleepily blinked back, curled in the bunk in a corner of the lab. He hadn't wanted Morning Star to go home. The options were spend the night alone at his own house (a terrible idea, to leave the still-frazzled and emotionally-worn Frag to his devices) or to his siblings (that didn't need explaining). There were a few friends Magnotris could've called, a few favors, but this was the most comforting of all options. 

He slipped a pillow behind Morning Star's head, between the back of his skull and the wall. There, safe from bumping and coldness. Morning Star's eyes fluttered closed, and Magnotris leaned down to kiss his cheek.

A hand snaked out from under the blankets to hold his wrist. "Please?"

"Once I finish this one dosage," Magnotris assured him, using his other hand to pet Morning Star's.

Reluctantly, it slipped back under the sheets. Morning Star adjusted himself one last time before closing his eyes and pulling the blanket close to his chest. Magnotris watched the rise-fall of the other's soft breathing before turning on his heel and heading over to his desk. 

He pulled the papers and gun free of their holdings, and placed them back down. He paused, staring at the gun again. Maybe he'd need that.

He stored it back in its inner pocket.

On a test tube rack on the edge of the desk sat the most recent doses. They weren't fresh, but that was fine. Magnotris trailed a hand over each before prying free the one with beautiful green magic. Maybe he'd been going about this the wrong way. Maybe it was less of how potent the magic was, and more about the personality it had once been a part of.

He stepped over to the cabinets, holding the green vial close. The injector sat, waiting for him, as immaculate as he'd left it. The vial was pushed into the slot, and the machine whirred pleasantly. Magnotris picked it up, stepping towards the door. With a beep, the Magninium-scanner accepted his trace, and he pulled the door open smoothly.

A clap, and the lights turned on. Magnotris pulled the door closed behind him.

The two machines at the far end of the room spat out information, printed onto an array of paper. He gave a cursory glance over them. Nothing unusual.

A deft kick to the cage awoke the meeker one. They cowered, staring up at him in terror. Magnotris wordlessly opened the gate and gestured for them to crawl onto the floor. Hesitation was erased with another kick to the cage. 

They stared up at him, at the injector in his hands. He made a circle motion with his finger, and they obediently turned around. Poor, stupid things. Hopefully they wouldn't be either of those for much longer. 

Magnotris crouched, pressing the tip of the injector into the back of their head, near the spinal cord. 

"Please work," he whispered, and pulled the trigger.

They jolted, jerking forwards for a second. Magnotris stood up and shuffled back, waving a hand and upping a magic shield around himself. Hopefully it wouldn't attack the other one, still caged and watching in distrust. At least it could probably hold its own.

They hit the floor, twitching a leg. The hardened crystals all over their body shuddered and pulsed, earning a low groan from the poor thing. Magnotris stared, impassivity on his expression, but his hand shook as he clenched the injector. They rolled onto their back, and he could see the dredges of the crystals that had overtaken their horn crack visibly. They fell off, in small slivers. More of the fur underneath was visible. 

Magnotris watched as more of the crystals twitched and broke. It was a slow, arduous process, punctuated by the yelps and howls as they twisted and shivered. It dragged on for what felt like hours, tossing and turning, until all of the crystals on their body had fallen to the floor and they laid on a bed of black shards. 

The shield was cautiously lowered, and Magnotris stepped close, reaching out a hand. They whimpered, lowering their face.

He stood and cursed softly, pressing a few buttons on the machine. "Don't tell me you kept the ones in your Magninium," he grumbled at the shaking mess, watching as the machine beeped and confirmed. "Starsdamnit. What was the point of all that, then?"

They had no answer. Only tears.

Magnotris stared at the screen. It was entirely possible that, if he injected the magic directly into theirs, it could cleanse them once and for all. The medicine could work. 

He stared down at the empty vial, sitting pretty in the injector. He needed more.

He glanced to the door, into the room where Morning Star was sleeping. Peacefully, comforted, for once. He was a heavy sleeper, though. It was how Magnotris had even gotten the first dose. 

He looked to the injector.

He looked to the door.

Just one more dose.

Magnotris lifted the blanket, gently pulling Morning Star's hand out. He turned it over in his so that the wrist faced up, and closed his eyes briefly. "Sorry." the sharp, silver-pointed tip punctured, and Morning Star jolted, but didn't wake.

"Sorry," he whispered, watching the gun fill and blood lazily spill from around the wound. "Sorry. Sorry. Sorry, sorry, sorry sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry." he laid his head on Morning Star's forehead. He was no better than the rest of this stupid, horrible, warped world. He was just as twisted and sadistic as the rest of them.

The gun beeped. He pried the vial of Magninium free, and pushed it into the injector, dropping the other gun by the bed in haste. He needed to apply the second dose quickly. 

They were still cowering, lying in the crystals. Magnotris crouched next to them, turning them over onto their back. Magicking in a knife, he stabbed it into their chest, unblinking as they screamed in pain and scrambled to get away. They couldn't escape him. He carved into their chest, into their heart. It was all a parlor trick, but it still contained their magic, beating it through the entire false body.

He pressed the injector into the shivering magic, even as they whimpered in pain and sobbed. Magnotris didn't close his eyes as he pulled the trigger, watching Morning Star's Magninium rush into theirs, snaking around and curling. 

Taking a few steps back, Magnotris watched. He couldn't rip his eyes away, not while he watched Morning Star's magic work. It was almost meticulous, sorting through the victim's, ejecting small, tiny, pulsing shards of the black crystal that had nested deep in them. 

He wiped at his eyes, breathing heavily.

It worked.

It worked. 

They laid there, still on the pile, blinking slowly as the pain faded and their magic absorbed Morning Star's. It worked. It worked. They were healed. They were fixed. Magnotris crouched next to them, breathing in slowly. He - they - they'd done it. Him and Morning Star, together.

The door creaked. Magnotris glanced back, feeling something in his stomach drop. Morning Star stood in the entrance, blood still dripping from his wrist, holding the gun in one hand. He stared at the other, blinked, stumbling somewhat. 

"Magnotris?" his voice was soft, uncertain, groggy. "Why...."

Magnotris stood, rushing to the other's side and drawing him up into a tight, warm hug. Morning Star made the cutest, most precious startled noise, and Magnotris squeezed tighter, shoving his hand into Morning Star's hair and petting.

"Thank you," he whispered. "We did it."