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Chapter Text

21st of Duscar, 842 PD 

Edges of Ank’harel

“Not even a Winter’s Crest festival is safe from ruin. You’d think the Raven Queen would try to stop a disaster. After almost 30 years of peace from the threat of Vecna, the peace of Exandria is once again threatened by a Titan-like menace. As much as I hate it, I am not the young man I once was. This is why you have been gathered here.”

 Preaching to a group of several younger teams, Percival de Rolo stood with his cane at his side, gesturing to images being portrayed on the illusionary screen. Before him were members of adventuring squads, all gathered from different parts of Exandria. 

 On the left sat Bells Hells, the team that had been the last to come forward. To the right of him was the Mighty Nein, who came out of nowhere, but stayed even when they weren’t needed. 

 A blue Tiefling on the Mighty Nein raised her hand, sat between a svelte purple tiefling and a gruff looking half-Orc with silver streaked through his deep black hair. All three were dressed in nautical attire, suggesting that they had come by sea. 

 “Hi yes um, I appreciate us being here but how are we supposed to stop a Titan?! In case you couldn’t tell, we are, like, very tiny comparatively.” 

 Percy nodded in understanding. He knew these kinds of questions would pop up before he had the chance to explain. 

 “Yes, I acknowledge that. Which leads to the second part of why you all are here. I, with the help of one Taryon Darrington, have created just the weapons to fight these Titans. You see, I had a feeling that we were going to need something that could handle the power of the gods one day, and not long after the threat of Vecna was snuffed out, I began working on such weapons.” 

 The image on the screen changed, showing gargantuan metal constructs and the schematics around them. They seemed to be piloted by two-to-three people at a time. Advanced firearms and melee weaponry were equipped to each construct, and the constructs themselves were powered by magi-tech the likes of which were unheard of. Several members of various groups gasped in awe and confusion.

 “They are called Jaegers. Now, before I explain what they are and how you all will be using them, you need to know something. This is a pan-continental effort across  Exandria. The Tal’Dorei Council is leading the operation and handling the deployment. This is, to be completely fair to you all, a last ditch effort to prevent another Calamity. Much like Vox Machina was, you all are our last hope.” 

 Percival had a strange look on his face, almost concerned as he looked at the groups gathered. He didn’t know their capability, nor their prowess. He barely understood why they were together.

 “The explanation of how they work will come once we have evaluated you all. In order to operate them, we will need to figure out which members of your team operate the best with each other. You will all be separated and tested in pairs or triads to figure out your mental capabilities. Miss Temult, if you would?” 

 The lavender haired member of Bells Hells stood up gingerly, fixing her hair and grabbing some papers that she had seated next to her. 

“Uhh right. I will be testing your mental compatibility today. With me being a telepath, I will be able to evaluate y’all in a way most can’t. We call this drifting and it isn’t… down to a science yet, but we know that we will be able to at least make sure y’all know what is gonna happen.” 

 Imogen looked down at her papers quizzically, reading as quickly as she could. Memorizing her assignment and the pairs for the day, she tucked the papers under her arm and looked at everyone. 

 “First pair is gonna be… let’s do Jester and Fearne. If all of y’all will follow me, I can make this very easy on me and y’all.” 

 The faun and the blue Tiefling both followed her, as did the rest of the groups not too far behind. Moving briskly through the halls of this base, Imogen opened the steel reinforced doors of the Shatterdome, more specifically the testing sight. The room was empty, save for a cockpit housed by one such Jaeger that they use for testing.

 “Ladies, if you don’t mind laying back in those harnesses please. I wanna get this done before I get another migraine.” Imogen said, slightly curt. 

 Fearne gave a cheeky mock salute. 

“Imogen, if you wanted to see me in a harness, all you had to do was ask!” The faun chuckled, which brought a smile to Imogen’s face. 

 An exasperated sigh of both humor and slight horror came from the red-headed wizard in the Mighty Nein. “Mein gott, there’s two of them.”

 Jester giggled at the banter, looking over her shoulder at the half-Orc and Tiefling who followed behind her. “This isn’t the type of bondage I was thinking of, you guys!” 

 Imogen checked over their harnesses and made sure they were in position, she gave an affirmative nod once she was satisfied. “We’re gonna leave now, but we will be close by, alright? Now whatever you do, do not chase the ball. You’ll see what I mean when y’all connect.” 

 Fearne and Jester looked at each other before looking at Imogen with nods of understanding. Imogen ushered Bells Hells and the Mighty Nein out of the cockpit and into the testing lab, where several people were setting up the test, making sure all the magi-tech worked at optimal capacity. 

 “This is the Grim Verity, they are helpin’ with the mental connection stuff that y’all will be doin’ in the Jaegers.” 

 Laudna piped up a bit. “You say y’all, are you not engaging with this as well?”

 Imogen sighed and looked towards the window for a moment. “I can’t. My psychic abilities would be too strong for what they need these things to do. I could kill someone if they connected to me like they are tryna do with y’all.” 

 Laudna held Imogen’s hand for a moment, a gentle understanding and a solid presence amidst all this. A Halfling scientist piped up, breaking the moment.

 “Miss Temult? We’re ready, will you let them know that Lavorre needs to bring her heart rate down before they can start?” 

 The telepath blinked for a moment, processing the request, before nodding and pressing a finger to her temple. Reaching out telepathically, she broached Fearne as she would be easiest to communicate with.

  Fearnie? We’re gonna start now, will you let Jester know? And tell her that she needs to sit still please?

  A response comes easily enough. Oh! Yeah, no problem.

  Fearne looked at Jester, who was fidgeting and drawing dicks in the air. “Hey, Imogen told me to tell you that they are gonna start now and to sit still if you can. It’s gonna be okay.”

 Jester looked at the faun, her violet eyes looking nervous and almost scared. “Okay… Are you not scared?”

 “Oh no I’m terrified, I just feel it differently. But if we’re gonna be in each other’s heads, we gotta be chill, ya know? Deep breaths, deep breaths.” 

 Jester nodded, swallowing nervously as she tried to calm down. Deep breaths, deep breathes. Slow breaths, just like Caduceus taught her. She felt her body start to calm, her heart rate beginning to slow. 

 “See that’s it! You are doing great.”

 A sound came through the cockpit, as Imogene’s voice could be heard.

“ Alright, I’m gonna count back from five. When I get to one, the drift will start. I need you two to be calm when that happens, because otherwise things will get really bad.”

 Fearne looked at Jester, giving her a funny face and causing the Tiefling to giggle a little bit. She led Jester into a breathing exercise as they started to breathe in sync.

“ Five. ” 

Deep breaths, deep breaths.

“ Four.”

  In through the nose, out through the mouth. 

“ Three.”

  Like a flower blooming and closing. Like a fire growing and settling.

“ Two.” 

  Everything will be fine. They are calm, they are fine.

  “One. Starting the neural link.”

  Neurons flared simultaneously as their bodies seized up, unprepared for the sudden onslaught of stimuli. 

And then… it all went white

Chapter Text

Fearne could taste the salt on her tongue, smell the breeze of the ocean in her nose. Jester could smell the ozone of the Feywild, sickly sweet blossoms tempting her further into the mind space. For a moment, they were one in the same. But that moment fades as Fearne tries to hold onto Jester’s presence, only to feel herself pulled in the opposite direction.

It takes everything she has to not be sick as she sees the flesh city, which she now knows is Cognouza. The twisted and mangled form of Lucien above her. The weakened forms of the Mighty Nein trying their best to keep going.

Then the memory changes as a claustrophobic panic sets in. She’s in a cage, as talks of selling her to slavery happen by unseen men in front of the cage. The desperation in her voice as she pleads to an unseen god. The heartbreak and grief as she’s told that the only one who understood her mischief was brutally murdered by her captors.

A cold, spiteful fury freezing her insides as she sees Jester trick the hag into giving her what she wants in order to save her friend. Fearne had only seen that kind of harmful mischief being done by her own kind, her included.

Fearne reaches out, she has to. This flood has to stop. She has to pull Jester back to herself, otherwise they will both be stuck. The faun gently touches Jester on the shoulder with her good hand. The Jester in the memory turns to her, eyes cold and ultraviolet.

“Hey, I think you and I are supposed to calm down. You know, this place is seriously lacking in some dicks. Let’s change that after this!” Fearne cooed gingerly, her tone inflected with mischief.

Tears streamed down Jester’s cheeks as she looked at Fearne. The tiefling sniffled, nodding her head in agreement as she stood. She was still a good few inches shorter than the Faun as she took Fearne’s hand. Fearne began to lead her away from the memory and back into the whiteness of their mindspace.

“I don’t get it, how come I don’t see your memories??” Jester asked, her vocal inflection slightly warped through tears.

Fearne tilted her head quizzically as if she wasn’t expecting that question. “Hmm, I’m really not sure! I think maybe I’m just so awesome that I don’t have to worry about my memories. Ya know?”

Jester giggled, her tears abiding and her emotions settling down as she listened to Fearne and her ego.
“You remind me of Artie. A little bit, but he’s, like, really cool! You are pretty cool too though!”

“Hey but Artie didn’t take you out of your memories now did he? So I think I’ve got a bit of a leg to stand on!” Fearne chuckled out a rebuttal, showing mock offense.

Their footsteps stopped as they were now surrounded by the white landscape of the neural space. Fearne gave a little “oof” as she sat on the ground, stretching her legs as she relaxed her hooves. She patted the space next to her, to which Jester sat down with a small “hup”. Her skirts poofed out a little before she settled, as she started to fidget with a ribbon on her dress.

“You know… I never told anyone how scared I felt. Not really. I never really told anyone when I was sad. I think Caduceus knew, but he never wanted to bring it up unless I did. Fjord knows a little bit, Cayleb knows just what I’ve told him when he’s asked. I’ve just tried to be there for them, you know? No one was happy after Molly died, so I… was happy for them. I was their Joy.” Jester confessed somberly. Her hands were routinely smoothing skirts that had already been calmed.

Fearne looked at her and her face was empathic and kind for the first time in a little while, at least for her. “Well you should tell them. What’s the harm? Are you scared they won’t be there for you if you do?”

The pregnant silence from Jester was all the answer Fearne needed. As she gently bonked horns with Jester, a gesture in which the Tiefling returned in kind, she gave the younger woman a small hug. “You gotta tell them, otherwise you won’t be okay! I want you to be okay.”

Jester sighed, fiddling with a loose thread. “Does it really matter anymore? We aren’t even adventuring anymore and all that stuff happened a long time ago.”

Fearne tilted her head and hummed softly in acceptance of Jester’s musings. “Yeaaaah but you aren’t going to know if your friends actually don’t care until you tell them right?”

The tiefling sniffled as she wiped her eyes, trying to stop the tears that poured from them. “You’re right. My friends care about me. They love me, and I gotta let them.”

“See? This is why I make a great teacher! I teach people to care about themselves!”

Jester giggled but stopped as her ears perked up. “Do you hear that?”

Fearne tilted her head up, her ears tuning into their surroundings. It was muffled but she could hear a sound trying to breach the space they were in.

‘Fear… ster’

“I think my friend is tryna find us.” Fearne says to the Tiefling, who starts to stand up.

‘Fearne! Jester! Can you hear me?!’

“We can hear you Imogen!”

Fearne stretched out her hand to Jester. “You ready?”

Jester took the faun’s hand, a smile coming across her face again.

“Let’s go.”

They started to walk towards the direction of Imogen’s voice, one woman resolved and the other one content in her part to play. The white space began to dissolve as they felt themselves pulled apart from each other once more, catapulted back through the mindscape.

Fearne became dizzy, feeling pulled in too many directions all at once. She didn’t know where she started and where she ended. Who she was and who she wasn’t. She tried to go with the flow of this taffy pulling of her brain, but it was difficult to stop things. It was so hard to not let herself just go into the stream, the pain being almost unbearable. Her heart beat slowly in her chest, too quiet for her to focus on.

Memories bloomed around her, shunting her in and out of scenes of her life… and snippets of life that were not hers. One moment she’s playing hide and seek with Mister Nesbit, the next she’s seeing a tiny blue Tiefling drawing the most elaborate stories on her bedroom wall. She’s shunted back to tea time with Nana, only to feel it slurry into watching Jester slip into childhood depression and loneliness. This has to stop, this is getting too close for her liking.

Fearne slipped into another memory, one she hated having to see. There, surrounded by flowers, a young Fearne cried silently. Older Fearne knew why the little one was crying. It had been a while since she got a postcard from her parents, and she had worked herself up into a tizzy, thinking that the Unseelie had snatched them or eaten them. Nana was gone from the Manor for a moment when the young faun’s mind betrayed her. She never had friends her age, and the other Fey avoided her when she played outside. How could she make this memory stop?

In that moment of absolute despair and the cold water feeling of loneliness, Fearne felt something tugging her up and out of her memory. She briefly heard, almost like a passing thought, ‘I’ve got you.’

Chapter Text

Her eyes opened once again as she heard muffled voices, almost like she was underwater. She could hear the different depth of the voices but the words were unintelligible. Fearne knew she probably looked more fey than normal. She felt less of a person, lost amongst her own memories and feelings.

Her eyes struggled to focus as shapes of people came into her view. Colors were muddled, but she could see something green. Maybe it was her hair, but she couldn’t tell. But before she could figure it out, Fearne felt herself yanked from the rig. Or maybe the rig was yanked from her? Fearne couldn’t tell, but she felt herself come more into her body as she was caught up in a pair of arms. Her ears focused a bit better, just enough to hear raised voices and angry tones.

“-time it took to build that?! You just potentially ruined a major component that took years to craft!!”

There was Lord de Rolo, Fearne surmised, noting the tonality. The other angry voice was closer to her, seeming to be the one carrying her.

“Personally, I don’t fucking care. You all couldn’t get her out, I took care of the problem.”

That was Ashton, which means they were the one carrying her. Their arms were warm, but why was she so cold? It was so fucking cold. She could taste ozone, there’s only one person who typically smells and tastes like that.

“Ashton, you could have fucked up her mind by doing that! I was trying to get her out like I did with Jester, I just needed to find her!”

There was Imogen, ever the worrier. Her tone sounded scared, almost like she had doubted herself again. Fearne knew she didn’t have the words to try and dissuade anyone. She couldn’t just tell everyone that she was fine, couldn’t omit that she felt like she was stuck in a void of loneliness.

“And if her mind gets messed up, we’ll fix it! Just like mine! She’ll be okay. Fearne’s strong, and if she’s not, then we’ll be strong for her.”

Fearne did not feel strong, but she appreciated the words Ash gave in defense of her. She had to force herself to speak, her tongue feeling covered in molasses. Though feeling like molasses, Sylvan still thankfully came from her like a babbling brook. Said babbling brook just happened to be made of wine and plastered drunk.

‘I am tired… I need…’

“Can anyone tell what she’s saying? I can’t read her mind, it’s too muddled and there’s too much going on for me to concentrate. Maybe if someone hadn’t taken her out of the rig, I would be able to translate!”

‘I am very tired. I don’t want to be standing anymore.’

An accented voice, Caleb if Fearne remembered correctly, piped up. “Your friend says she’s tired. She is speaking in Sylvan. Which makes sense as she is Fey, ja?”

Fearne felt herself being moved again, being adjusted in Ashton’s arms. The movement made her somewhat nauseous, her whole body feeling like cement. She felt herself being lifted and carried, and if she were more with it, she would have felt like a Princess. She groaned, which to her sounded more like a bleat and she hated it.

Her body was lukewarm temperature wise. However, in Fearne’s addled brain, that was the temperature of oatmeal and that just wasn’t a good feeling. Her eyes were so heavy, and the fog kept coming in and out of her mind. Fearne let her eyes slip closed, her control on her form leaving her grasp. Warm and small… that was a good feeling.

“Hey. Hey! Don’t you go animal on me! Stay awake!” Ashton fussed, feeling the weight of Fearne start to change in their arms.

Before they got the chance to stop the Druid, the Genasi looked down to see a small cockatiel nestled in his arms. While they enjoyed the lack of additional weight in their arms, Fearne’s natural warmth from the shard soothed their aching chest muscles, and he couldn’t help but miss that.

‘Little birdie Fearnie…’ Ashton thought to themselves with a little smile.

It took a little bit but the Genasi, with the wild-shaped satyr in tow, finally found a bunk room with relatively comfortable looking beds. He’d lay down eventually, but he wanted to make sure the relatively fragile frame of Fearne in this shape was settled against a pillow before he slipped out of the room.

Once he was satisfied with how Fearne was arranged in the bed, Ashton spared a softer glance towards her. He didn’t want her to wake up alone, but he also didn’t want her to go through what she was feeling by herself.

For Ashton, the best and worst way to experience something is to feel it yourself.

Chapter Text

There was purpose in Ashton’s steps as they strode through the halls of the base. They were frustrated, discontented with how poorly that first experiment was handled. They cared about Fearne, and seeing her body sag like a sack of potatoes in that rig was too much for them. Ashton could see the anguish plaguing her as her face writhed in despair and pain. He wished he could see what went on in her mind when she was stuck, as he knew a thing or two about shit making your mind fight you back. What made him furious though was no one moving to help her. At that fancy Lord DeRolo’s behest everyone was told to let the machine work the way it needs to.

The thing that became too much for them was seeing the blue tiefling come out of the machine first, and her friends there to catch her. Then seeing Imogen get frustrated that Fearne wasn’t coming out of this on her own. But despite this fact, Imogen wouldn’t let anyone raise a finger to disable the rig manually. Something about ‘disrupting the mental connection’ and ‘potentially harming the psyche of Fearne’. And yet, when the rest of the team went into Laudna’s mind to save her, they were all okay with setting the tree on fire to save Laudna’s soul and Laudna came back fine. Ashton knew what he was doing, he knew Fearne would want them to help her if she couldn’t help herself and Ashton did just that.

Ashton could live with Lord DeRolo being pissed off at him. He’d be a little more tender about Imogen admonishing him, but they’ll get over that. Because Ashton knew that if it was Laudna up there and not Fearne, Imogen would have a much more different tune. That’s not a bad thing when it’s handled right, but by whatever non-god power is out there, Imogen doesn’t handle it right. He doesn’t fault Imogen for that, everyone has to have an anchor, especially when your parent is a part of a world ending death cult.

They didn’t quite realize that they had been dissociating for the majority of their power-walk back to the testing room. Ashton powered through the anxiety he was feeling, not knowing whether he might get fucked up from this or not. Anxiety melded into determination once again as they concluded that they had been fucked up by far worse things. And in their eyes, Imogen won’t go through his head, so at least he’d be alone with whoever else he’s paired with.

As Ashton pushed through the doors, striding in like he hadn’t just had a panic attack from the Nine Hells, the groups gathered turned to face them. Lord De Rolo was lost in repairs, making sure the rig was still functional enough for further testing. Chetney and Orym looked at Ashton first, concern written on their faces.

“Ash? Fearnie okay?” Orym asked warily. Ashton looked down with a nod.

“She’s in a room, resting. She turned into a bird though. But I made sure she was comfy before I left.”

Orym nodded, and relief filled both his and Chetney’s eyes. Chetney looked on edge, and Orym wasn’t much better. But their bodies both slowly relaxed as they heard confirmation on Fearne’s condition. Laudna looked more frazzled than normal, her normal dead eye stare having a bit more concern than usual. Ashton gravitated towards her, their eyes meeting hers, wordlessly asking what the issue was.

“Ashton? I’m supposed to be next, but with Delilah being more… more active than some people’s comfort, I don’t think it’s a good idea. I don’t want Lord De Rolo to get more upset than necessary. Plus, I’m not even sure if being linked like that would be a good idea.”

The genasi’s eyebrows furrowed, trying to put his brain back into logical function after the mental fog he just went through. “I’ll take your place alright? I wanna get this outta the way, and you don’t want the dead lady fucking around in other people’s heads. Do you know who you are supposed to be going with?”

Laudna’s eyes filled with relief as she then nodded. “I’m supposed to be with someone named Fjord, I do believe.” Laudna pointed towards the long-haired orcish man, who was helping out the blue tiefling woman as she recovered from her dive with Fearne. A firbolg man with shockingly pink hair gently pushed magic around the tiefling’s head, his eyes focused and almost clinical in his care.

Ashton sniffed and cracked his neck which gave a loosening POP, which gave him a small comfort. He clicked the button on the hammer as he leaned it against the wall, an added security for his sake. Moving towards the ombré half-orc, Ashton gave him a once over before clearing his throat to get the sailor’s attention. Said sailor looked up, and then up again at the stalwart Genasi before blinking in confusion. “Can I help you?”

“I’m gonna be your brain partner, my friend had to dip.”

Fjord rubbed the back of his neck in discomfort. “I don’t know, you did just rip the rig apart, I think it would be a bad idea.”

Ashton chuckled mirthfully. “Yeah not as bad of an idea as my friend having some dark shit permeating your brain. You’re better off with me.”

The half-orc glared but surmised that he would get nowhere arguing with this Genasi, so he sighed and off-handedly nodded in agreement. The pale woman who was pointed at to be his partner looked like she could melt into the floorboards with relief. He couldn't help but worry now, as it seemed like Jester was quite jostled by the whole mental ordeal. But he didnt have the time to futz about, there were people relying on his and this Genasi to be the next test subjects.

Ashton sighed with slight relief because they had no idea if that was gonna work. They tend to leave the big thinking to the brains of the Hells, but here they were all scattered. Imogen was having to telepathically connect to everyone and maneuver them into the right places and part of him was worried about her straining herself. He couldn’t focus on that now. If he worried, then he would think. If they thought, then the pain would come back. If the pain came back, then they would get hurt even more. He had to go through this so he could understand. He’s used to being an experiment for Milo, this would be no different.

Thankfully, Imogen’s soft drawl pierced his thought process and he was pulled out of his own thoughts. “Ashton? I thought you were taking care of Fearne?”

Ashton sniffed audibly, trying to avoid looking like they were just dissociating not even a few minutes ago. “Yeah, she’s good. She’ll be okay. I’m taking Laudna’s place though. Waiting isn’t really my thing.”

Lord De Rolo piped up with a chuckle of disbelief. “Do you really think I'm going to let you get anywhere near that rig after the stunt you pulled? You must take me for a fool.”

Ashton smiled threateningly as he walked closer to Lord De Rolo. Once they were nose to nose, Ashton leaned into Lord De Rolo’s ear. “Do you really wanna see what happens if Delilah gets a fucking whiff of someone else in Laudna’s brain? Cuz I certainly don’t and the rest of these lovely people here have no idea what she’s done or who the fuck she is. So yeah, I’ll take her place, because I don’t really wanna see these people turned into zombie fodder. Do you?!”

Percy’s face was stone cold, but he knew Ashton had a point. There was no way to account for what would happen during the drift if someone were to enter Laudna’s mind. And seeing his oldest torment was not something he was willing to see, again.

“Alright. But if you break the rig again, I will throw you to the wolves, do you understand?” Percy growled lowly, with a serious undertone in his voice.

Ashton pulled away with a shit-eating smirk. “Thank you so much, Lord De Rolo. I’m glad you could see my side of things!” The sarcasm dripping from their voice.

As Ashton moved to hop into the rig, Imogen stopped them. Her expression had concern but her tone expressed relief. “Ash. Thank you for standing up for Laudna, but are you sure you can do this? I’ve been in your head and it’s not pretty or easy to navigate.”

The Genasi shrugged, the expression of ‘who gives a fuck’ written on their face. But Imogen didn’t need to look into Ashton’s mind to know that the Genasi was also worried about their head too. They just didn’t have enough self-preservation to do anything about it. “Shit’s gotta get done. ‘Sides, you are the Exaltant Badass. You can get me out.”

Imogen sighed in relent, moving to instruct Ashton on how to get into the rig. They needed to shrug off their vest and remove their boots, as too much metal might interrupt the link process. Ashton had to admit, they felt a tad naked without their battle vest and boots. Their torn shirt and battle skirt still remained, so they couldn’t complain too much. Once they were strapped in, the pirate man got in as well. Fjord’s friends, who might actually be his lovers, wished him luck. Laudna waved the little Ashton doll in their direction, shooting them a hopeful but distressed look.

“Alright Ash, Fjord. I need you to imagine a place where you are safe. Once you find that place, I need you to count back from ten out-loud. Lemme know when you get that place.” Imogen said in Ashton’s mind, and presumably Fjord’s as well.

Ashton slipped their eyes closed. Those kinds of instructions are hard. Ashton imagining anything was difficult on a good day. He tried to think back to all the comfy places he’d been, but that just made them grumpy. Flitting through their memories, they realized that they had never really had a place they called safe. So they thought of their semi-favorite place, Ligament Manor. It was just the right amount of weird and comfy, perfect for them. Ten… nine… eight… fuck it they were already there in their mind.

“Hey. I’m ready.” Ashton called out.
“Me too.” Fjord said.

He heard Imogen take a couple deep breaths, presumably steadying herself. “Alright y’all. Five… four…”

‘Three… two…’ Imogen answered in their minds.

Just as Ashton had thought themselves ready, their head suddenly felt like it was split with an axe. This was probably high in the list of worst migraines they ever had. Tinnitus deafened Ashton as they heard Imogen’s voice just too late to stop her. ‘FUCKFUCKFU-‘

‘One!’