tipped scales (gen)

18 February 2024

By the time she finally set foot in Abysus, the enthusiasm with which van Kleiss had sent them to collect her had shifted. Biowulf had spent enough time in the castle to know that particular sharpening of van Kleiss' gaze, when he began to pick at threads in the fabric of a new plan. Before Cabo Luna she had been merely a potential asset; now, after all this mess and the irritating attention of Providence, she was rewarded with a new purpose. The juxtaposition left the fur down Biowulf's spine all on end. Still: it was not his place to question van Kleiss.

She did not know she was being rewarded, anyway. She had balked at his attention. But what she did not know, she would learn quickly, or suffer for the lack of it.

Biowulf had meant to let her know this when van Kleiss dismissed them, but in the moment after they stepped into the corridor to escort her to the room van Kleiss had deemed hers, Circe tipped her head and asked flatly, "Was he giving me special treatment, or is he always that... slimy?"

Breach had laughed and then abandoned him through a portal. He should have known she wouldn't be of any help. And it only got worse when, after clenching his jaw and seeing his task through, Circe had seen the space provided for her and turned to look at him, bewildered.

"What," he hissed, claws flexing.

Circe glanced back at the room as if to check that it was still, in fact, unchanged, from whatever quality it was that had apparently disappointed her. "It's empty. It's just - rock and dust in here." And when he stayed silent, she added, "There aren't any - I don't know - beds? A couch? I need to sleep somewhere."

Then it was a matter of comfort. Of human furnishing. Biowulf thought of the cool dark space he'd claimed for himself in the labyrinth of the castle, feeling lucky to find a room that didn't have crumbling walls. Six years in, he had not had cause to complain. "We've had no need for any of that."

"Okay," Circe said, "Genuinely, that's - does van Kleiss sleep on the floor? I know we're EVOs, but we aren't monsters. That's ridiculous."

van Kleiss did not, in fact, sleep on the floor. Some part of Biowulf bristled to consider it. He had been in van Kleiss' room before, during emergencies or when called for, and he knew that there was a massive canopy bed, and for that matter a fireplace and a trunk. It hadn't mattered. It still didn't. As leader and master of Abysus, it stood to reason that van Kleiss would have certain privileges - but it seemed Biowulf had been silent for too long, because Circe turned her gaze on him now, and asked, voice gentled with pity, "Do you sleep on the floor?"

Some minor gear in Biowulf's clenched fist slipped and then clicked. It was not his place to question van Kleiss, but clearly this - bringing in this girl - had been a mistake. First the attention from Providence and now this - this provocation - he growled and slammed a fist against the doorframe. The gear there crunched and popped back into place. "I sleep how and where I want. Do what you will with your own room, but my business is my own."

Circe raised her hands a little, placating but not apparently too concerned. "Okay. I'm just saying you don't have to."

He'd had enough of this. His task was complete. "Speak with Breach if you feel the need to get furniture," he said as he turned away, trying to put venom into the word. Even to his own ears it sounded a little foolish. At the very least he could expect Breach to put an end to whatever foolishness Circe had thought up - not because Breach would find it as immature and unnecessary as Biowulf did, but because surely she would laugh right in Circe's face about it. Maybe as a benefit the two of them would end up too focused on their frustration with each other to interfere with Biowulf in the future. The fewer teenage girls he needed to rely on, the better.

He did not meet Circe's shrewd look as he left. There were more important things on which to focus. He retreated to wait outside of the throne room, filtering through the audio for the possibility that van Kleiss might call for him.

Within a week, a couch had sprouted in the space they most frequently considered a common room. Biowulf saw it from the corner of his eye while following his master to the garden and nearly stumbled. van Kleiss spotted it as well, backtracking a step, and then laughed once aloud. "Presumptuous," he said, but it was amused, and he moved on. Biowulf glared at the couch, and the table that came into view as he walked past the entryway.

When he retired to his own room later, there was an enormous plush dog bed left in the center of it. He tore it to shreds, and the note ('nighty night - breach') along with it.

He was, apparently, alone in his opinion of the matter. After a few days of travel with van Kleiss - maintaining a presence as a member of the United Nations apparently took some work, and travelling too far from their native soil took even more - Biowulf returned to find a small crowd in that same common room bent over cards. Breach had appeared with them once after a visit to wherever it was that she went when van Kleiss wasn't looking and it had become somewhat traditional to play, when enough of them were in the castle at the same time. Skalamander spotted him with the eye not facing the game and raised his crystalline arm in a wave. "Biowulf, hey, come play! We got chairs now."

They did appear to have chairs now. Very few of them matched, and one still had some sort of display sign from whatever furniture store it had been haplessly borrowed from, calling it 'Grönsta.' Skalamander was straddling a sturdy stool, and the twins had pulled the couch up to the table that had also manifested so that they could both peer over one hand of cards. Breach sat cross legged on a high-backed dining room chair, and Circe -

Ah. It all became clear. Circe set her cards face-down and smiled, faintly. She had a modest pile of chips at her elbow. Biowulf padded into the room and found an unoccupied chair across from her. It was too small. They were all too small: no one made furniture for EVOs.

"Deal him in, Sean," Skalamander said, and Biowulf followed his eyeline to see one of the twins begin to gather cards. Chairs and tables were one thing, but even Breach couldn't begin to steal names. He looked sidelong back at Skalamander, who grinned (in his own way, sideways, toothy). "Kid said it's no good calling two people by one name. Can't say she's wrong there."

"Circe has ideas," Breach sing-songed in agreement, and the specific emphasis she placed on the words was all Biowulf needed for anger to start bubbling up fresh. Breach knew just how to needle anyone, but she did not frequently need to lie to do it. "She thinks we need to respect each other."

"I think we could stand to be treated a little better, that's all." Circe picked up her fresh hand of cards and shrugged. "Isn't that part of why we joined the Pack? No one else was going to treat us like people. What's the point if we're still treating each other like animals?"

No, Biowulf didn't say, no part of this has been about being people. No part of the Pack had ever been about playing house like the humans did, two hands, two eyes, smiling mouths. When he picked up his cards his claws left long thin gouges in the table, wood shavings curling away. This was a fundamental misunderstanding that had been allowed to carry on for all too long. Imagine - to talk about respect when she could not even respect the vision their master had laid out before them -

"And it needs to start from the top," Circe went on. "The way van Kleiss talks to us sometimes-"

"You know nothing about our master," Biowulf snapped. His voice echoed less now that there was furniture filling the space. Still, the twins flinched; he could see Breach roll her eyes under the curtain of her hair.

"I know enough," Circe snapped back, and to her credit she didn't seem cowed at all. She kept her shoulders back and met his red glare. "I know he talks to you like you're trash. It isn't right."

Earlier that day, still outside of Abysus -

He wouldn't think of that. "Master can speak to us however he wishes. Shying away from the Pack already?"

Circe's frown was tight and small. "I'm not leaving. This is the only place for me. I just - we shouldn't have to put up with that. Being treated that way."

There was a motor whining deep in Biowulf's core, straining to keep up with the tide of his anger. The cards, still unplayed, folded stiffly in his hand. He could only just hear Breach's breathy laugh over the rush of blood and nanites in his ears. Biowulf pushed himself to his feet, chair toppling behind him, and he tracked Circe's twitch into a more defensive position. Because she was so human she was small, delicate, even with that EVO form hiding under her skin, he could cut her to ribbons if he chose. "You - you think you know better than he does - do you think yourself so clever - you're barely even one of us -"

Words failed him when emotion swelled, caught in that tangled tide. Another failure. Earlier that day --

Circe slammed her cards down and shoved her chair back. "If you're so set on letting him walk all over us, then fine. But he's done it to you, too, Biowulf, and you can't pretend you don't hear it forever." For a second she grimaced, monstrous, but then she spun on her heel, hair fanning dark and red behind her, and stormed out.

Biowulf found himself left with his rage and a mess of cards, the spiral stopped short, claws flexing. Skalamander sighed; Biowulf startled a little, remembering he was there. Breach was still laughing. The twins were reaching hesitantly over the table to gather up the cards.

"I'll go and show her the garden," Skalamander said, pushing the stool neatly away with one foot when he rose. "Let her know why Master can say whatever he wants."

The anger was doused with cold, steaming, going dark. Skalamander would explain it to her. van Kleiss could take them to that garden and carve them hollow and leave them stone, and he could do that as punishment or as demonstration or simply on a whim. She would know. But that wasn't why - it wasn't fear that drove Biowulf to follow him, it wasn't, it was dedication, it was devotion, it -

Earlier that day, still outside of Abysus, he had displeased his master. The exact circumstances were fuzzy. But van Kleiss had sneered and said, voice thin with disgust, "You always tempt me to leave you behind, Biowulf. I would certainly find myself better off without your useless blundering."

And the day before, after having been waylaid, late to meet his master to act as a guard: "Ah. For a blissful moment I had forgotten you were here at all."

And before: "Don't forget your place, Biowulf. You are not so useful to me that I cannot do without you."

The metal of his chest creaked and pinged, suddenly cooling after the heat of his outburst. He felt ill. He reached down and set the chair he had knocked over back onto its legs.

This was something he could not think about, today.

Biowulf retreated to his room like a kicked dog, walking silently, and curled himself into the corner. He slept there, on the stone floor.

When the girl left the balance shifted all over again.

He had fought through the mass of EVOs until the Bug Jar's field had sealed shut, and then he'd fought longer, tearing through the animalistic horde until his muscles burned and his circuits overheated. Sore, winded, he'd climbed one of the buildings near the field and perched there out of reach of the mob.

Circe had left. He had allowed it.

There had been a point of failure in the Pack and it had never been Circe. There was no pretending she wasn't like them - even Breach's unchanged skin gave way to the teeming monstrosity of the nanites. Every gentle breath she took had come in sharp contrast to the living stone of the castle, the heaving movement of beasts, the quiet whir of machinery. It had been worse when she sat audience to van Kleiss; from a step or two behind, Biowulf found he could imagine they were only human, out of place in the wasteland of Abysus. When it had been just van Kleiss, his humanity had been a matter of course, another show of the control he held over the nanites, over the Pack, a reminder of the position he held over them. With the girl it had become sheer chance. A little trip of fate, to make them both so human. Applying the concept of chance to any part of van Kleiss had made Biowulf uneasy, so he ducked away from the thought when it came. But she had not been the point of failure. She had not weakened the Pack with her two hands, two eyes, smiling mouth.

He could not put the words to the weakness. He could not speak it even to himself.

In that last moment, Rex had looked over his shoulder at Biowulf. Circe he had expected by now, bleeding heart that she was. He could not understand her but he could predict her. The shock of Rex's offer had been bitter and shivering, still rattling through him even now. You coming, or what? Not sweet. Not polite. Still kind.

He could have caught Rex then. Two enemies in one claw. Circe was already weak, and the surprise may have given him the edge he needed over Rex. van Kleiss would have been so pleased.

The field buzzed, impenetrable. Down below an EVO tested its strength and bounced off.

Biowulf had stayed. It was not a sin to have kept the beasts in; in the end, NoFace and van Kleiss had come to blows, the way Biowulf had hoped for since setting foot in this damned city. Master would not have wanted NoFace to be able to leave. It was just as well, that Biowulf had -

That he had abandoned his master and helped a traitor escape.

Had he been human he would have retched. Instead the nausea fizzled out into a sickening sizzle along his circuitry.

He could still pick out the distant shape of Circe through the haze of the containment field. He did not allow himself to wonder. He did not allow himself the brief fantasy of being on the other side of the field. He would wind his way back through the city, to the arena where he had slipped away from his master, and he would tell van Kleiss that Rex had taken Circe and blocked their escape, and that he was a coward. And van Kleiss would punish him then for his transgressions. He would drain Biowulf of his nanites, or demote him from second, or force him to find his own way home out of the Bug Jar. And certainly van Kleiss would find a way home, as always be could. He would have no need for Biowulf's help. Biowulf had been punished before; either he would survive it or he would die. Either would be at the wishes of his master.

He hesitated. Or.

Maybe he would come back to the arena, and van Kleiss would be victorious already, and know already, and he would look at Biowulf slinking into the space and say, Oh.

I hadn't realized you had left.

Just imagining the words left Biowulf feeling like his chest was being crushed in. Alone, with no one to witness the weakness but the monsters on the ground, he whimpered, a lost pet amongst wolves.

He could only permit himself the one. Providence knew they were there, and whether he went now or later his master would hurt him all the same. Biowulf hungered, desperately, for the security of his master's biting insults and disappointment. He rose to his feet.

The chairs at the castle would be kept, he decided on the way, leaping across rooftops, but the bed that Circe brought in he would burn. He could not afford to see her well-furnished room and remember this doubting virus she had planted into his mind.