Killers everywhere, it ain't no place to run.

[intangibleman]

The Desert Palace, all in all, wasn't such a bad place.

Tyki rather liked it. It was almost lively under the near funereal, subdued air. There might have been a fog hanging over everything, the heavy weight of a member missing, but underneath that was a subtle layer of anticipation, a mountain-stream burble of excitement at what the meeting might hold. For those normally resident, the reaction to strangers was mixed. Some approached the situation with their heads held high, giving no indication one way or another how they felt about the sudden intrusion. Others seemed nervous, the unknown quantities enough to frighten them, not that they broadcasted it. For the minions, there seemed to be a novelty to it. It almost seemed to take the edge off the fear the Arrancar were harbouring.

Almost.

Neliel, however, apparently Sosuke Aizen's biggest fan, seemed positively mired in it. There were moments when she came out of herself a little, but it was obvious that he was on her mind. Him, or her precarious position.

The young girl Road had taken to seemed less concerned, but it was possible she didn't understand the gravity of her situation. The short man with the pet Malboro covered whatever worries he had with a bright veneer of smirking sarcasm, but Tyki could practically smell the fear on him. The lanky Tag with the attitude problem didn't give anything away, instead choosing to sneer one-eyed at everybody, teeth grit and bared like an animal caged, as though he didn't care whether he lived or died so long as he got to sink his teeth into somebody. It was possible this was the case, but Tyki had rarely seen somebody who didn't care when it came down to it. Perhaps he'd get to see his real feelings on the matter after the meeting's conclusion. That might be fun.

The others hadn't presented themselves for inspection.

Tyki found himself enjoying it all. Road was keeping an eye on things, doing her best impression of a precocious young girl there under Tyki's watchful eye, but the reverse was probably more true. She knew more than he did, about everything. It was her who told him what would become of the Arrancar if things went south, her who told him about the members he had never heard of, who he'd never bothered to read the backgrounds of. He simply watched and enjoyed.

What had surprised him was that the majority of the members present and, indeed, those expected, were natives of their own floating continent, and not Ivalice. Some of the residents were certainly lowerworlders, but all of the visitors seemed to come from Niflheim, Lucis or the Jyllandi Union. Was it merely a trip for them, a chance for the to size each other up on neutral ground, with Aizen's imprisonment serving as little more than window dressing? That was possible. None of the had any real personal investment in the man, nor his continued safety, or that of his underlings. He suspected Kreeth was simply there for the holiday.

There hadn't been any newcomers for a few days. The last had been the two from the Union and before those, the Lucian envoys, apparent nobodies there in the stead of somebody important. It was probably fortunate the absent lowerworlders didn't send the same in their places, or the palace would run the risk of being standing room only, with underlings turfed out of their rooms to house the temporarily higher-ranked dogs of members. Road said they were still waiting on a woman from Reseune, a town that bordered the two major halves of the Niflheim Empire, and some mid-tier noble from Nagapur who Road, all full of childlike delight, was expecting to kick off at some point during her stay.

There had been some arrivals last night, but they'd come in without fanfare, or announcement. They felt familiar, so Tyki assumed they were residential minions, gone and returned. He'd soon find out, anyway. He'd left his hat and cane in his room, but still made sure to dress nicely. His white side wasn't welcome in such a place, and the black was far, far classier. He found himself gravitating to the kitchen without effort and he was almost surprised how quick such a thing had happened. Perhaps that was how the palace got you.

He pushed open the door.

"Good morning," he said.

Comments

[thatsit]

Ignis had woken that morning shortly after the sun had risen. As strange as the little underground enclave was, it was also pleasant. They'd expected to spend the time they were here ensconced in a hole below the ground, away from the sun and normalcy, surrounded by the most dangerous people in the world. Instead they were ensconced in something more akin to a climate controlled hotel, or perhaps a terrarium depending on one's view, and, yes, surrounded by the most dangerous people in the world.

Although honestly, Sir Integra's underling had come across as infinitely more unpleasant than the Nifs, thus far.

Noah. Possibly the worst possible individuals for a pair of low-ranked Lucians to share breathing space with, but provided they kept clear and didn't cause ructions, they'd likely survive the encounter. Sir Integra had made very sure that Ignis was as fully up to speed as she could bring him on the matter of the Noah, and their loyalties, and he, in turn, had carefully informed Gladio of what she knew.

Still, hiding oneself away in one's temporary quarters wouldn't do, and for all Ignis wasn't going to complain about sharing with Gladio, there was little point in listening to him snore for another hour. Besides which, he was running critically short on Ebony. He'd brought some, of course, but it wasn't sold on Ivalice, and now he felt the need to save the dozen or so cans he had left for actual emergencies. Neliel had, at least, been good enough to keep the kitchen supplied with real coffee.

And reaching out and making allies was one of the most important tasks left for himself and Gladio right now.

He'd found Neliel in the kitchen. It was, she'd explained, her usual spot, should he ever wish to find her. If Ignis was pressed, he might admit to feeling a kinship with the Arrancar; she did all the menial homemaking tasks for people that never voiced any appreciation, and she did it because someone had to make sure it was done properly or certain individuals would contentedly live in squalor.

He had the kitchen smelling of fresh coffee within minutes, and was just clearing off the worksurfaces ready to make a start on breakfast, after making Nel take a reluctant seat at the table, when he felt the approach of a slightly menacing individual.

There was no point in startling like a jumpy dreamhare. They'd have to weather being in each other's presence for a while longer, yet. The least either of them could do was be cordial about it.

"Good morning!" he replied, turning to look at the incomer. Tyki Mikk, the male Noah. Seeing an ally of the Nifs wear black sent a shiver of offense up Ignis's spine, but he pushed it back down. After all, there was no point in letting them know it bothered him.

[intangibleman]

Nel and Ignis, the smaller of the Lucians and evidently the brains of their operation, were in the kitchen. On other mornings, he'd seen the lanky Tag sitting there perusing a newspaper, all gangling limbs and sour expression, but it generally took until mid-morning for the kitchen to get much traffic.

Some people even seemed to be avoiding it lately. He half wondered where Kreeth was, or if she was nocturnal. It was possible. Perhaps she didn't use a bed and instead hung upside down from her feet in a wardrobe. It was possible, he supposed.

"Do you two always rise this early?" Tyki asked, his Überwald permeating his speech even in Ivalician.

Nel, he figured, did so because she was the ... housekeeper? Mother? Whatever, of the place. Ignis... it could be that he didn't want to miss anything, maybe he just rose early.

[declaregamuza]

Nel wasn't familiar with the politics of any conflict between the Noah and Lucis. Ignis was, to her view, an achingly polite, upper class gentleman who, it turned out, was willing to get his hands dirty in the kitchen.

When he'd insisted she take a seat and allow him to handle breakfast she'd been torn between wanting to argue, because breakfast was her job, and he was a guest of the clan, whereas she was merely an underling, and wanting to kiss him. The fact he looked good in some pressed trousers and a shirt helped a lot. The glasses only added to it. There were, she'd decided, as she'd taken a seat at the table, worse ways to spend a morning than admiring the view as a handsome man made her breakfast.

Then Tyki had strolled in. He still scared Nel, in ways she'd never managed to put her finger on. He was charming, attractive, dressed well, and had the sort of smile that made Nel's higher brain functions shiver.

"What makes you think I sleep?" she asked, flashing Tyki a smile. If she took her eyes off some of the Palace's reprobates, they'd burn it down around all of them. She'd felt them return last night, too. Fortunately, they'd retreated to their rooms instead of causing a ruckus.

But there was one other persistent early riser among their number and she needed to make sure she was present in the kitchen before Szayel found someone to kill himself on.

[thatsit]

Ignis allowed himself a small smile. He knew what Neliel meant about not sleeping. It was how he usually felt, which had contributed to his chronic dependence on caffeine.

It wasn't, he'd once explained to Noct, that Ignis would die without it, it was that if Ignis didn't have it, other people, such as for example, Noct himself, might.

"I'm an interminable early riser, I'm afraid," he answered, turning back to giving the counter a last wipe to dry it off.

Now. Breakfast. But could he really make breakfast for Neliel without offering it to Tyki? Would that be rude? Although perhaps a Noah wouldn't want something prepared by a Lucian in any case.

Could he bear the thought of cooking for the enemy?

But then what better way to get people to drop their guard than to feed them?

"I'm about to make breakfast," he said, "if you'd like some?"

[intangibleman]

Tyki gave a small grin at Nel's comment, and her smile, his teeth showing bright against his dark grey lips. He considered giving her a corny line about beauty sleep, and her clearly not needing much, but decided it would be rather heavy handed, even for him.

Instead, he turned Ignis, surprised at being offered breakfast. That must have smarted. For a Lucian to offer a Noah, of all people, anything... a display of geniality, perhaps? Or maybe the concern that he would look petty if he didn't, when he was obviously preparing to treat Nel to a meal. The prudent thing to do would be refuse, politely, to make it clear that he didn't trust him, or his intentions.

Tyki wasn't particularly prudent, though, so he downgraded his grin to a smile.

"That would be wonderful," he said, managing to keep his gracious acceptance of the offer from looking like he'd just moved a chess piece into a particularly favourable position.

[declaregamuza]

Nel put her elbow on the table and rested her chin on her hand, smiling at Ignis's back. "Turfed out of my own kitchen," she said, giving Tyki a lingering look of very insincere sadness.

"Not that I'm complaining," she added, hastily, just in case Ignis got the impression he'd done something wrong. You could never quite be sure how tone of voice might translate, after all. "I don't think a man's cooked for me since-" she trailed off, and thought about it for a long, long moment.

"I don't think a man's ever cooked for me," she admitted, with a frown. Stark had been sweet, but she hadn't trusted him in the kitchen, and then, well... It had always just been her job.

[thatsit]

Ignis couldn't help the smile that crossed his face. Yes, so he was having to prepare food for the enemy, but he was going to prepare damn good food for the enemy and show that he could rise above such concerns.

A simple croque madame should suffice. Nothing too complicated to make, and nothing too time consuming, either.

"An unforgivable oversight on the part of my gender that I intend to correct forthwith," Ignis replied over his shoulder, flashing Nel that same smile.

He began by turning the oven on so it could warm, and turning the burner on beneath the frying pan while he retrieved the ingredients from the fridge.

[sipthehoneylikeabutterfly]

It had been a long trip out with Yylfordt and his cadre of hangers on. Szayel had objected to going when he'd been told. After all, he never went out on forays into the wider world with Yylfordt and the rest normally; it was obvious that Nel was just trying to get rid of him while the other Khamja members arrived.

Not that he objected to collecting Arc and returning him to the Palace. One more pleasant face in the building wasn't to be sniffed at, and knowing that he was here with Arc, while Aizen was so unfortunately locked away... well. The imagination just ran riot.

He'd woken at his usual time that morning, but took rather longer in the shower, and then with his collection before he'd prepared himself for seeing the rest of the Palace. The Ragnarok wasn't the most comfortable, or secluded, of lodgings, and while Szayel wasn't shy, others had complained that the walls were thin.

With his hair perfectly done, he'd ventured out. There were others present, of course there were. He didn't know if the meeting had already taken place, or if it was still to occur, but either way, the Palace bristled with new reiatsu signatures.

Two of them were in the kitchen. One of them made Fornicaras uneasy, which Szayel casually ignored because the petulant squirming of his Hollow was beneath his attention.

He entered to find four people seated around the table. One in glasses, one with grey skin, and the other two of little significance to him. The kitchen smelled of cooked food and coffee. Good coffee, like he kept in his workspace in the infirmary.

"I'm here," he declared, shooting Nel a pointed look. She'd been so eager to get rid of him, after all.

[cierva]

"Ugh, why?" Apache asked, putting her elbow on the table and resting her cheek on her hand.

She was sick of him, more than usual. His stupid smarmy face, his ridiculous pink hair, those unforgivably terrible glasses, his repugnant personality... just an hour without him, that's all she wanted.

"Knew we should've dropped you out over the Naldoan sea," she griped.

He'd complained on their trip, but that wasn't much of a surprise. He hated all of them, not least his brother, and being cooped up with the group of people most likely to stove his head in, save Nnoitra, for a lengthy period must have sucked for him, but not as much as for them. He'd been less aggravating when they'd picked Arc up, but only because he'd left bitching at them alone in favour of picking on the boss's kid. Or whatever he was doing with him. She didn't really want to think about it.

[intangibleman]

Tyki looked up as another person walked up, and in. He watched the greeting unfold in front of him, not hiding a small smirk of amusement. Given their familiarity, it was very possible that all three of these people were Arrancar. The newcomer was tall, pink haired, and he would have been easy on the eyes if it wasn't for the expression he wore on his face. Tyki had seldom seen a look like that on anybody but a brothel madame. It was a self-assured look, like he looked down at everybody else as if they were an object, a punter, or scum beneath his notice.

If they were associated, there was no love lost between them. The girl didn't seem to enjoy the man's company at all, so he looked at Nel, waiting to see her reaction to him. Politics weren't his forte, but people were.

"Good morning," he said, putting down his knife and fork and wiping his mouth on a hand after finishing his breakfast. "That was wonderful," he said, to Ignis. Well, it didn't hurt to compliment the chef, even if he was a Lucian.

[declaregamuza]

Nel felt Szayel approaching, and braced herself for it. Which didn't stop her from internally groaning when he walked in and declared his presence.

All right, maybe she was going too far in assuming that Ignis batted for Szayel's team. Ignis was a little flamboyant, but he didn't exactly sand in doorways and fill the room with a fog of utter fab.

"Good morning, Szayel," she replied, with a lack of enthusiasm. "Nice to see you survived." Her tone couldn't have been flatter if a steamroller had passed over it, but it was obvious he was trying to needle at her by drawing attention to his presence.

[thatsit]

Ignis blinked, slightly taken aback as a man, around his own height, entered the room and promptly declared he was here. Ignis took a second to rake eyes over him. He was a Selkie, of course; there were a number of them, and he'd met Marluxia, so pink hair on a man wasn't new. It was everything else about this man that stood out. He was skinny, and wore white framed spectacles, and looked as if he belonged in a house of ill repute, rather than this kitchen.

And Nel and Apache seemed to know him, and were weary of his presence already, despite the fact he'd only just walked in.

He bowed his head to Tyki instead of addressing the newcomer instead, ignoring his use of his hand to wipe at his own mouth, although he couldn't be blamed when they hadn't been provided with napkins. "You're welcome," he answered, in Jyllandi. "I'm always happy to cook for an appreciative palate."

No matter where it originated from. Through such means were inroads to diplomacy made, after all, even though diplomacy with the Noah was likely a fruitless endeavour.

"Good morning," he said, then, to Szayel, switching back to Ivalician smoothly.

[sipthehoneylikeabutterfly]

"Good morning to you," Szayel replied, although his tone suggested he meant 'good morning to me' as he cast a definitely appreciative eye over first the speccy nerd with the ridiculous hair, and then the dark skinned charmer.

He followed it up by flashing a poisonous look at Apache. Too many weeks in too confined a space with her had ground on his last nerve. She was as objectionable as Yylfordt, and her presence made Yylfordt a thousand times more objectionable still because the ridiculous idiot clearly wanted to stick his dick in her and hadn't. Szayel had no patience for that sort of stupidity either.

"But you didn't," he pointed out, and then sauntered past to the kettle to make himself a coffee.

"So," he said, as he flicked the kettle on. He turned around to lean against the counter and make eye contact with the newcomers. "Who are you?"

[intangibleman]

Tyki looked up at Szayel from his seat at the table.

He had yellow eyes, like his, if a slightly different shade. They didn't stand out quite so much in his pale face. And it was pale. It was more than just white-skinned Selkie, it was the pale he associated with those who didn't get much sunlight, like plants kept in the dark. Only Lumi had been paler.

"Tyki Mikk," he said, simply. "Here for the meeting, though that probably goes without saying."

The palace was hardly a holiday destination, after all.

[thatsit]

Ignis moved to retrieve the emptied plates from the table before he answered the question of who he was. "My name's Ignis," he said, politely. There was no point in using his surname; it wouldn't mean anything to anyone that wasn't Lucian, and if it did, then he probably didn't want them to know it.

"A pleasure to meet you, I'm sure," he added, giving Szayel a polite smile as he stood to transport the plates to the sink.

Now that he was standing, he was on eye level with Szayel, which meant that Szayel was likely an inch or so taller than himself once you accounted for footwear. And yet skinnier, and decidedly flamboyant.

[shieldoftheprince]

The bed the Lucians had been given in the palace wasn't so bad.

It wasn't as comfortable as Gladio was used to, but he put that down to them being probably old. Fortunately, there weren't any errant springs jutting up to give him a bad night, but he couldn't speak for Ignis's experience. Maybe his side of the mattress was like the Mencemoor, who knew? He complained of sleeping badly, but that was nothing new. He'd joked about it being Gladio's snoring, but that was crap. He barely snored. Most likely, it was his dependence on coffee. He drank too much, slept badly because he was always hopped up on caffeine, and then had to drink more the next day to function, making it an endless cycle of insomnia. No capital letter.

Sharing hadn't been too bad. The beds were big enough to accommodate both of them, which was fortunate. He doubted he'd be as bright eyed and bushy tailed if he'd slept on the floor, but he had packed camping gear. The boot was full of it, well. It was full of that, and cans of ebony. He wondered how many of them were left. Nel, angel of the Lowerworld that she was, had been sweet enough to get him some half decent coffee, but Morrid Coffee, not even the top tier Kirman variety, wasn't Ebony.

Nice as the beds were, the shower left a lot to be desired. He supposed it was good that they didn't have to deal with communal showers, and that all of the rooms seemed to have an en suite, but the shower itself was old fashioned and there didn't seem to be much space between the 'The Searing Cauldron' and the 'Greyshire Grotto' settings.

Ignis had long been up by the time Gladio crawled out of bed, limbered up for the day ahead, and fought the shower. He was an early riser, which was fine by Gladio. He wasn't a slugabed himself, but he wasn't exactly up at cock crow either.

He could smell the scent of breakfast on the air as he crossed the hall. It made his stomach growl. The kitchen felt full of people, partly because of the concentration of mostly-concealed reiatsu, and half because of the sound of voices coming from inside.

He pushed the door open and looked around. Two women, one Nel, one new. Ignis, the Nif man, and a pink-haired stranger with glasses that even Gladio knew Ignis would consider virtually a crime to own.

"Morning," he rumbled, voice still half sleep-deep in spite of everything.

[declaregamuza]

Nel looked up when Gladio entered. She'd started to learn to recognise when he was nearing, now. She'd pick up on the unique signatures of the others as time went on, too.

"Morning," she replied, with a bright smile.

The realisation that Gladio had just walked into a room with Szayel present hit a second later.

[sipthehoneylikeabutterfly]

Szayel cast little more than a curosry glance in the direction of the door when the newcomer strode in.

Then he stopped and looked again, this time raking his eyes up from the feet, and over thighs, and groin, and stomach, and chest, and continuing upwards, which there was rather a lot of, to the man's face. He dragged his eyes back down again just to make sure he hadn't missed any details.

Well, they'd kept that one quiet. He had half a mind to check the dates and see if it was his birthday, just in case. It certainly wasn't Warsend, but somebody had left him a very nice gift of eye candy.

He pushed his glasses up with the fingers of one hand and took another lingering look at everything that was this newcomer to the kitchen. "Good morning," he said, breaking into a very pleased smile.

[thatsit]

Ignis had felt the comforting presence that was Gladio, the only other Lucian in the place, and only other person he could fully trust. There wouldn't be any more dangerous little questions from Tyki Mikk regarding Ignis's sole presence now.

"Ah, Gladio," he said, brightly. Gladio's greeting sounded like he was still asleep, but he'd probably perk up after breakfast.

The tone of Szayel's voice dripped and oozed unpleasantly down Ignis's spine, and he fought the urge to shoot the man a look. Given his assertion that speaking to people constituted flirting, the way he addressed Gladio probbaly constituted sexual assault.

Ignis gestured to Apache with one hand, doing the polite thing and introducing the lady to his companion, "I'd like you to meet Apache," he said. Then he pointed a finger in Szayel's direction, "And that's Szayel," he added, with rather less warmth.

[shieldoftheprince]

Gladio wasn't stupid. He might look like a six and a half foot wall of tattooed dumb muscle, likely only brought for the potential risk of taking punches and possible dealing them out, but appearances aren't always what they seem.

He was definitely smart enough to tell that We Don't Like Szayel. The less than glowing introduction said as much. It wasn't too surprising, especially when he'd practically licked him when he'd spoken.

"Szayel," he said, with a nod, by way of greeting. "Apache," he said, rather more warmly. And then... "Wow, your eyes are beautiful."

He'd never seen eyes not match each other before. They stood out, even more than the weird yellow-orange eyes of Tyki Mikk and Ignis's new pink-haired friend.

[cierva]

Apache felt somebody approach the door, but wasn't particularly interested. Everybody in the palace she didn't recognise was going to be a stranger, so she wasn't going to get excited about it happening, especially since Khamja members were neatly universally creepy, or scary in some other way.

Of course, her opinion changed somewhat when Gladio walked in. Ignis introduced him to them as though he knew him, so he was likely his companion. When he spoke, though, he lacked the nearly cartoonishly Archadian accent that Ignis used. It wasn't too surprising, learning from different teachers could give you a different accent in a foreign tongue. Gladio's teacher obviously favoured the Bancouri or Landisian accent.

What he said, of course, made her smile. See, it was possible for people to notice straight away, wasn't it, Yylfordt?

"Thanks," she said, doing her best not to look too happy about the compliment.

[intangibleman]

Ah, there he was. The other Lucian. Tyki sighed a little, having lost his edge. Not that he'd been using it, of course. Ignis had been rather personable this morning, considering who they were.

And there Gladio was, trying to be charming. He wasn't bad at it, for a meathead.

[thatsit]

Ignis smiled at Apache's poorly disguised happiness. He rather liked Apache, she'd certainly made a better first impression than others Ignis could name.

"Would you like some breakfast?" he asked, ready to jump up out of his seat and set to that. He'd already made breakfast for four, but there was a pleasure in doing it. Especially when the reception had been so resoundingly positive.

[sipthehoneylikeabutterfly]

Szayel felt the dismissal that came both as part of Ignis's introduction, and Gladio's greeting. They were both fawning over Apache though, weren't they?

"Yes," he said, talking over Apache's head, "an interesting Mist Mutation." He eyed the back of her head. "I suppose that would make her a Tag, on Jylland." And hadn't she kept that quiet?

[declaregamuza]

Nel enjoyed her morning dose of eye candy for a second. Ignis really was going to make somebody a wonderful wife someday, too. Why couldn't they make them like this here? Attractive, and charming, and in the case of Tyki just a little bit dangerous.

Then she heard the words that came out of Szayel's mouth and she glared at him. "Szayel." She said his name like it meant 'stop'. It usually did, with him. Sometimes Nel wondered if he might have grown up thinking his name was 'dickhead', because he certainly spent most of his life trying to live up to it.