Starglow Basin etch-a-sketch

Medusa, at the conclusion of all the shit that went down, took it upon herself after notifying the Gods that be (@Toula and @Rashepses, incidentally) that she would scout out Qiao and “the cub”. Her cub. Hers. But as she followed the long and winding ass trail—that backed her up more than a few times in that Qiao was clever in her escape, or else Medusa was a bit of an idiot (…a healthy mix probably)—she had plenty of time to think.

She had called the boy hers. But now that the adrenaline wore off, was that the truth? Medusa realized, not for the first time, she was a horrible mother. And so not cut out for it, really. It was probably better she didn’t actually make good on the shit she said. He was Nazli’s now. So she was doing this for her, kind of. And for Pharaoh and for Semer-Wati. 

Yes, yes, this wasn’t the journey of claiming her kid but one of gratitude. 

But each step she made she lacked that. How fuckin’ far did this witch travel? the “w” word thought of more fondly than the rest of the inquiry. Qiao had earned a point for plucking up the kid. Kinda noble, actually. It further muddied the waters on what Medusa thought she saw that day there was a dead kid… had Qiao maybe been there to help, too, a lost cause? 

But the long walk—that she wasn’t grateful for. Nor was she for the heat of even evenings, mornings being a pain in her ass. She was lucky stinky hurt man hadn’t realized her clear weakness in the daylight, which was just all around discomfort. Not a disqualifier but it made fighting a lot less fun. 

Snacks were hard to come by, which was fucked up. The Gods should be watching and showering her with that shit for her trouble. But nope! Zilch!

And at the end of the road one night came the stanky smell of Soto, blood on the ground, and one absent kid. You’re absolutely fucking joking me, she half-cried out, fucking tired—

It meant so many things. The war wasn’t over, for one. And that was probably most important. But it also meant she had to return home empty fucking handed, and the ache of not seeing her the kid here effected her more than she realized.

She moved to hide under a tree for a while just to get out a nice cry—then she’d head back and tell Akashingo the news.

The bad idea train was off the tracks.

Vasiliy had slipped away from the mesa under the guise of "making sure those bastard druggies stayed damn well away from their home." Or whatever he had to say to whoever was in his way. Didn't matter. 

He had to get the fuck out of there. 

But as fate would have it, the very reason he'd ended up in the palace in the first place materialized like a mirage—he thought she was one at first before blinking once, twice, clearing the dust from his gaze. 

White Lady, Vasya rumbled, stepping toward her with his chin lifted in question. She was alone and crying, and far from where she should be: the safety of her home. Why you out here?

FUCK!!!!! 

Worst of all, maybe, was that she’d been seen fucking crying! Medusa took a wrist and rubbed it furiously across her eyes, but her continued sniffles betrayed her. 

Ah, fuck it. She was caught. And she didn’t want to get so invested in this shitshow alone. She was desperate again. And when she opened her eyes to see who it was, she heard that familiar accent first. 

Double fuck—no pun intended. 

Warlock, she stood up, coughing to clear her throat. Medusa stepped closer to him, looking him over. Yeah, she didn’t do half bad, did she? Someone stole… oh fuck. Should she tell him? What would that mean? But maybe he’d become as invested as her in this search, and she didn’t want to be alone wading through the doldrums of these feelings. Our kid. Someone stole our fucking kid. I found him, there was a fight—a friend picked him up, fled from the fight. I was trying to find them, she said, to bring him home... but the fuckers somehow found him first, her eyes were red-rimmed. 

In her anger, she wanted this kid she had no claim to but for her blood anymore. Nazli did the rest of the work. Night and day she nursed and loved him. Medusa cared when it was convenient…

But now could hardly be called that. Now was actually super fucking inconvenient. But she had to do one right thing for her kids, if she could… it was why she let them go in the first place—keep them alive! And this cartel was being a right bag of dicks about it. 

We have to tell Pharaoh. She just fucking killed one of them, with her husband—the fight was… insane, because she wasn’t a killer, and still didn’t know if she wanted to be. And she didn’t want to lose Warlock thanks to a 1v1 which would probably be a 3v1 or some shit since they liked to dogpile. The least she could do for Warlock? Not let him get dog piled. Come with me? she offered, tilting her head.

Someone stole our kid.

OUR KID.

He swiped a paw over his face in disbelief, blinking at the woman. But of course, he reasoned. They had lain together. Multiple times. Fervently. Of course there would be offspring.

And now one of them was in danger.

Yes, Vasya responded. He was a bit lost for words, but he did know that one. And he knew what he wanted to do. Yes. I come with you.

Silence fell between them for a few long moments before he coughed and asked, How many children, Witch?

She should probably tell him everything. 

Tell him there were four—and she hadn’t wanted them. Four. I’m… being helped. I’m not sure I am fit to be their mother, she still wasn’t. But… if you’re with me, I’ll try, and he would help her. He said he was with her. Right? 

She pointed at the blood and gore of Qiao. They also took another. These guys… they’re bad news. But Akashingo… they’ll fuck them up. Get our kid back, she believed this to be true. It had to be true.

Medusa looked to him. Tilted her head. Want to know their names? the only things she had given them, really.

Four, huh? That was a lot. And here she was admitting that she was an unfit mother. He was with her. . .for now. Young children were important. And if there were others involved in their rearing—

Da, yes, he replied, a shrug paired with a smile. Please.

At least he could think of them every so often if he had their names. But this Akashingo versus drug lord business was something he wanted no part of.

He'd rescue the boy, and then. . .?