Pera D

Two men and two women sat around a table, four cards clutched in each player's hands. The kitchen arched above them like a timber cathedral, its oak beams cradling a stainless-steel island. 

A hearth flickered with the cold blue flame of an induction range, iron cauldrons gleaming beside hand-carved cabinets so seamless they seemed grown rather than built.

 A stone sink with a touchless faucet sat beneath stained-glass LEDs, their kaleidoscope hues dancing over copper pots and a bread maker humming Gregorian chants. Serval doors—each a different color, from shale-gray to blood-crimson, etched with markings like forgotten hieroglyphs—lined the walls like soldiers guarding a time-tossed feast. 

The woman with long black hair and twin pink braids framing her sharp features winked at the timid girl across the table. **Vix's eyes, one ice-blue and the other storm-gray, flicked to the tremor in Axe's thumb as he clutched his cards—a telltale twitch she'd memorized three games ago.** 

"Axe got two pairs in his hand," Vix declared, her accent curling like smoke, **her voice laced with the lilting cadence of the Eastern Isles**. 

"No, I *don't*! See, this the bullshit I talk about—Vix is cheatin'!" Axe slammed his fist on the table, his sunset-orange beard bristling. **The man towered over seven feet, his frame a knot of muscle strained against a flannel shirt rolled to the elbows, sleeves frayed from decades of rough labor.** His arrow-straight hair, waist-long and streaked with sawdust, hung like a frayed rope. **He smelled of pine resin and old whiskey, a lumberjack dragged straight from a Grimm tale.** 

"Please, Axe—yelling *or* cursing. Both are unnecessary," murmured Jade, his voice smooth as polished mahogany. **The man's gray business suit hung immaculate, contrasting with the rustic kitchen, his brown curls defying gravity like spun caramel.** Copper skin glowed under the chandelier's light as he set down his cards, **his fingers lingering a half-second longer on the queen of spades—a habit Vix had noted signaled bluffing.** 

"Fine, Jade. I'll *fuckin'* quit and go eat," Axe growled, his sarcasm as thick as his accent. 

"Wait—can you get me some pizza?" Violet blurted, leaping up. Her arms slammed into the table's edge, splintering the wood. **Despite her timid voice and frilly lavender dress, her biceps flexed with the corded strength of a martial artist, her calves taut as coiled springs beneath lace-trimmed socks.** 

"My *table*! You're doin' too much movement for a mountain!" Axe lunged to inspect the damage, **his calloused palms tracing the gouged wood like a surgeon assessing a wound.** 

"Just call Jes. She's outside now, Violet," said Jade, glancing right as Axe shoved Violet aside. **Vix smirked; she'd predicted the outburst the moment Violet's knee had jiggled under the table—a nervous habit Axe misinterpreted as impatience.** 

"Why the *hell's* she outside?!" Axe barked, ducking under the table. 

"Don't fret. She's with Dante," Jade replied, flipping open his vintage phone. 

"Oh my *fuckin'* god, why?! Them two'll burn down the county!" Axe's face flushed crimson, **the scar on his temple pulsing—a relic from a bar fight Vix had heard about (but would never admit she'd researched).** 

"One, not both. Sit before you burst a vessel. I sent them to find the new user of the Pera-D," Jade said, locking eyes with Axe. **The room stilled, tension thickening like syrup, until Violet's nervous fingernail-tapping punctured the silence—*tap-tap-tap*, Morse code for anxiety.** 

"Why'd you do that?" Axe muttered, slumping into his chair. 

"Because I did," Jade said, his tone final. 

"Not to pry, but why not send *me* 'n' T? We'd find 'em quick—*and* never get caught," Vix purred, **her grin sharp as a switchblade. She leaned forward, the My Little Pony pendant at her throat catching the light—a childish charm at odds with her calculating stare.** 

"No. It's personal for her. And you'd get… distracted," Jade said, eyes glued to his phone. 

Vix sucked her teeth. "No, I *wouldn't*." 

"What're you lookin' at?" Violet asked, **her wide eyes darting between them like a sparrow's.** 

"Our next mission—finding who's killing those poor souls," Vix answered, **her smirk widening as Jade's jaw tightened—a micro-expression confirming her guess.** 

" Must you narrate all my action?" Asked Jade

"Yes cause it keeps you honest," replied Vex with a check smile. She always loves ticking Jade of, mostly cause he's the only one who can match her intellect.

"Indeed. I assume you've prepared?" Jade asked, finally looking up. 

"Yeah, but I gotta grab my gear from my room. Thought I'd send Violet ahead and meet her later," Vix said. 

"Wait—where am *I* going?" Violet blinked. 

"Districts 13 and 14," Jade said. 

Violet opened her mouth, but Vix cut in: "The killer's already gone. No evidence left." **She'd parsed Jade's fingertip drumming—three rapid taps meant he was omitting details.** 

"Axe—we're going hunting," Jade announced. 

"Huntin'? Ain't done that in ages. Abnormals lurkin'?" Axe asked, **his hands stilling mid-repair—a sign of genuine interest.** 

"Something like that," Jade said. 

Vix grabbed Violet's wrist and tugged her toward a mahogany door marked with a peeling **Sailor Moon** sticker. Behind it lay *The Velvet Coffin*—Vix's bedroom. 

**The room was a warzone of contradictions.** Black lace curtains framed a **My Little Pony** poster where Rainbow Dash sported a Mötley Crüe tee. Peeling Iron Maiden flyers clashed with Care Bears stickers, the air thick with Nag Champa incense and Strawberry Lip Smacker.

 A denim vest, patched with **Metallica** logos and **Jem and the Holograms** sequins, dangled beside a hot-pink miniskirt tossed over a glitter-strewn bedspread. **A boombox devoured a Ratt cassette on the desk, while a VHS of *The Transformers: The Movie* paused eternally at Optimus Prime's death.

 A neon G.I. Joe lunchbox held eyeliner and hairspray, and a lava lamp oozed black wax around a trapped Twilight Sparkle figurine. The floor was a mosaic of fishnets, *He-Man* comics, and a Def Leppard vinyl doubling as a coaster for her Pepto-pink tumbler.** 

**Vix's shrine to chaos—a portrait of a girl torn between headbanging and hugging it out.** 

Axe shouldered open the front door, ducking beneath the frame. Sunlight speared through pines, the sea's salt tang sharpening the air. 

"Want me to keep the wards up… for the girls?" Axe asked, **his voice uncharacteristically soft.** 

"Yes. Lock them. No time to waste—we hunt," Jade said. 

Both men smirked.