Gravity Rises (S3)

SP: Part One

WINTER 1983

Percy Pleasure sat at his desk in the headquarters for the Order of the Crescent Eye. He wasn't wearing his purple robe today, for he was only here for a short time before he had to leave. Instead, he wore a checkered golf sweater and khaki pants with comfortable loafers. As he bent over his work, he hummed a jaunty little tune to himself.

That tune halted as his wrist lit up with a deep green glow.

Percy put down his pen and frowned at his wrist. There, he had an intricate design inked into his skin. And it was glowing.

He sighed. "Not again."

What was this, the third time this week? He stood and gave a little sigh. His records would have to wait for now: Percy had to go babysit.

He walked down the stone halls of the Order, passing a few purple-robed cultists who gave him a curious look when they saw his outfit. He ignored them. There was only one person he needed to see, and that person wouldn't be wearing a robe either.

Or, perhaps he would be. Perhaps he thought that blending in would help him escape.

Percy turned a corner and saw him. No, no robe. It wouldn't have helped anyway, which he surely knew. Instead, Lincoln wore simple jeans, a t-shirt, and a sheen of perspiration on his forehead as he struggled in vain against the barrier.

This barrier was nothing fancy. In fact, it was almost nothing at all. No one was affected by this invisible barrier except Lincoln, who was currently trying to push through it.

Again.

"Lincoln," Percy said.

Lincoln didn't react to his voice. Instead, he kept pushing against the invisible barrier, grunting in pain as its magic pulled him back.

"Lincoln, it's not going to work. You're only hurting yourself."

No response.

Percy stepped up next to him and put a hand on his shoulder. "Step back, Lincoln. You can't get through."

"I could if you let me through," Lincoln replied through gritted teeth.

"That's not an option." Percy pulled gently on Lincoln's arm. "Come on. Step back. It's okay."

Lincoln didn't respond at first; Percy was about to pull harder when he finally stepped back. He stumbled a bit as the magic forcibly pushed him away. Percy moved to support him, but Lincoln waved him off. He bent over, bracing his hands on his thighs, and let out heavy breaths. Percy waited for him to recover.

Soon, he straightened and wiped his forehead with the back of his left hand. There, on his wrist, was an ink design that matched Percy's — glowing the same shade of green.

"It's a good thing the hex alerts me," Percy commented. "If I didn't come, how long would you have been here?"

Lincoln just glared at him and balled his left hand into a fist. Since he was no longer pushing against the enchanted barrier, the green glow on his wrist faded. The black ink, forming the hex that kept him prisoner here, stayed.

Percy had applied the hex six months ago, but Lincoln had never stopped fighting against it.

"Let's go," Percy suggested.

Stubbornly, Lincoln plopped onto the ground, leaning back on his hands. He stared up the nearby staircase — the one he could not climb — and to the door at the top.

"You're in the walkway," Percy pointed out. "Surely it can't help to stare at what you can't have."

Frosty silence.