The Gilded Hour

West Tower

Boris:

they were walking hurriedly down the street, pushing past bystanders and the occasional angry tourist. "There's always problems at west tower, what's the difference now?" Jax pouts, attempting to move past a middle aged woman with two young children walking slowly by. 'Jax, let me remind you we own west tower." Boris kept his cool, his fury could wait. "We own many things," He states, nearly matching Boris's tone.

"Jax, my dear messenger let me remind you what all the west tower can provide before I bash your head into a wall and send you running towards home." Jax glared, saying nothing more but of course Boris knew he had struck a weak spot, neither Jax nor Jill had been home in years. But that was just how he played, a dangerous game yes, but no one foolish enough would cross Boris, even Juno, and Juno loved to press his limits.

"What about everyone else?" Juno asks, he had softly been whistling to himself, bags under his eyes. "Already there, Saylu is helping Wendell launch explosives until we get there." Merline's eyes widened, "Well we better hurry those two can only get along for so long!"

"Not as bad as Saylu and Taras." Juno grumbles. He had a point, Taras, only came into the city few times every month. He, unlike most of the members of what Boris decided to call 'mercury's society,' Had a family back home further north. Which worked for Boris if he needed something up North out of the city. Taras was very vain and grew up spoiled as a boy, which Saylu seemed to take matters into his own hands.

"can we please just get there without getting hit by a stagecoach?" Merline says with an exasperated sigh as she dodged a muddy stagecoach who's reinsman seemed unfocused, half-asleep from a longs day of work.

"That's the plan, although I was thinking we could let Juno be an exception." Boris says, a ghost of a smile flashed along his face. Juno blinked from a sudden daze, raising a brow "Are you saying that I should be hit with a stagecoach?" His confusion made them all burst into laughter, even Boris. It had been a while since he felt like he could truly laugh amongst his members, No his family.

A figure came out of a shadow, "This way," It whispered, dragging them all into an alley. When Boris's eyes adjusted he could see two figures sitting against a brick wall, their voices hushed, Boris strained his ears to listen making out the faint voices of Wendell and Griffin talking strategy. Saylu stood besides Boris, his skin was pale against the moonlight, his hair was as dark as night. "They're getting anxious if we want our dear old tower we better act fast and vicious." Saylu said with enough confidence to cower an elephant. Griffin looked up, his eyes gleaming with excitement and trouble. "I like the sound of that."

The first fire happened within the first twenty minutes of preparation, a small explosive aiming at a already semi-crumbled brick wall above them. They all scattered, covering their precious heads from falling debris. "Curse 'em." Jill grumbled glaring towards their opponents assumed direction. "Merline, Hit the rooftops and see if you can spot their direct location, alert Wendell when you do so he can set fire as soon as possible." Boris orders, he felt like a maniac running around the deserted alley helping with preparations.

"Ready?" saylu asks, he pointed a long firearm in the direction of their opponent, who as Merline states happened to be right across from them. Their only light source was the moon, it was offly bright that night, pale against the fallen sky. Above them, gleamed a stone tower, a tower worth fighting for. People would say it was stupid, risking yourself for a pile of stone, but to Boris it was a pile of stone that held memories, losses and hope. It was the tower Boris had first met Arrow at. Arrow. Saints he missed him. It was also the tower he first met Merline at, it was the tower that he fell asleep at countless nights, stargazing.

He could not dwell on the past, if he wanted his tower.

Bullets fired, flashing against frailing light, Wendell's bombs seemed to be at work, as the Smokey scenery was overpowered by bright colors. Harmless, yet a great distraction.

A loud bang suddenly rang through Boris's ears, he crouched beneath a small column of stone, what was left of a pillar that once held an apartment complex, which was taken down during an air attack in the first war. Boris readied a long firearm, firing wildly onto his opponents whom ducked and quickly found shelter.

Meanwhile, in the distance Merline worked the rooftops, her silver dagger gleaming against the moonlight, ivory black hair swayed elegantly. Griffin and Saylu were back to back, firing onto enemy's whom seemed to be covered in shadows. they moved like twins of a single mind, limbs dodging and reflecting attacks, their movements were coordinated like the way shadows dance under shades of light, a rhythm.

Boris felt paralzied watching them move, they were stunning, Boris was suddenly afraid that if he took his eyes off of them they would shatter, they seemed immortal like nothing could harm them, yet they seemed so fragile that even a spec of dust would break them. Suddenly, Boris felt hands seize his throat.

Boris elbowed his attacker, they grunted but still held firmly onto his throat. Black dots raced along his vision, Boris tried to scream, to curse to do something but yet again time seemed to move against him. He felt something cold beside the side of his head, he stopped frailing immediately. "Call off your thugs." A voice whispered in his ear, Boris didn't move. "I'll fill your head with led." The voice grumbled into his ear annoyed. Boris croaked, trying to get his voice to stop shaking, "If you fill me with led who will call of those 'thugs', they'll just turn even more monstrous, go ahead I dare you." Boris smirked. As long as he seemed confident, they'll think he was confident to.

Suddenly, Boris felt pressure release from his neck, he gasped for breath just as he felt a clatter besides him, out of instinct he retrieved the gun, it was a lovely pistol. he swung around to see Griffin brawling with a wiry haired man, nearly matching griffins size. just as it seemed Griffin would win he was thrown to the ground, Boris yelled moving forward he raised his gu- "Move and ill pump him full of led!" Hissed a blonde girl who held an identical pistol in her hand.

Just then Griffin moved, the girl stumbled back, a gunshot fired in the air the wiry haired man seized Griffins neck, slamming him against a wall. "Griffin!" Boris yelled, the wiry haired man was too close to griffin, it would be too much of a risk to shoot without risking hitting griffin at their angle. "Don't move Zaystev." The wiry haired man said. Griffin's movements seemed to slow as his eyes grew desperate. His mouth cracked open in a silent, desperate gasp. Griffin suddenly snapped his gaze towards Boris's direction, his warm, friendly brown gaze held not fear or desperation. But, acceptance and courage. His eyes sent a silent message to Boris. 'I have made my choice.' Then, at last, the light shined in his eyes for a final time before it melted away. As if it was not only the light of life, but his sole. He slumped over as the man dropped his now lifeless body. Boris screamed, "Tettiohus i'll kill you!" he started moving, the wiry haired man stood frozen for a moment before racing off, instead of chasing after him Boris knelt besides Griffin, rage building into him.

Griffins eyes were still open, lifeless. His hazel skin was cold, not a trace of a pulse. I made my choice. No. No. Boris wanted to scream, he wanted to pout like a child, he wanted to yell at Griffin to wake up, he wanted to draw blood, to let out his anger on innocents, but most importantly he craved revenge.

I'm sorry.

Before Boris knew it, Merline was besides him, then Wendell, and then Saylu and everyone else, They all grieved in silence. "Saints, guide him.." Merline murmured under her breath.

Death was like ice, it was cold and harsh. Boris had experienced death countless times, but never one that was his fault, an accident.