Liv wasn’t in the partying mood anymore.

  To say she was in the partying mood before could be considered a lie. Hell, she had barely been there for half an hour before finding Anthony. Still, any party that was in her had been thoroughly squashed. It’s like they had their own language in speech and movement, closing her out of any sort of conversation– especially when her classical conversation training starts and ends with a firm handshake.

  On the way up, her and her boss talked shop on the limited information they had to form some sort of plan. They both agreed to try and snag Kara if she was on the table in spite of their recent argument. If their previous plan failed, they would just ask Charlotte for her opinion. If that failed too, they would ask Donovan. If all else fails, they take a wild gamble.

  On slow feet, she treks across the stairs, a growl escaping her stomach. Tracking down the medical wing had taken an additional hour and a half as she climbed far too many stairs with a man who was just a bit too heavy to be carried like she had been carrying him. Her shoulder still felt stiff– not horribly, just an annoying ache that was sure to last for the rest of the day. At least home was soon to arrive, a deserved meal close at hand. She could change out of this dress. While nice, it wasn’t as comfortable as her typical attire.

  Finally cresting into the dorm halls of the Initiative, Liv finds her door just slightly ajar, the sound of gurgling water escaping a running faucet as light pours from the opening in the door. Liv freezes, confused unease filling her as she stops just a few steps from the opening. Who the hell was in there? She didn’t leave the sink on, and she sure as hell didn’t leave the door open. Did someone let themself in? While not enraged by the idea, she was certainly disconcerted with it. With careful steps, she peeks into the opening, her eyes scanning the room. Her eyes immediately find what she’s looking for, but that attention is quickly stolen by an equally pressing issue.

  Her room had been cleaned completely and utterly: the trash that festooned the floor is neatly tucked in bags in the corner, the clothes neatly folded into a small hamper at her bedside, her table cleared of all its dishes. At the sink, actively cleaning said dishes, is a short woman dressed in a long, black habit with the sleeves pulled up. From Liv's vantage, she couldn’t quite see any of her features, but she could hear the humming cascading from her mouth. It was a gentle tune, a wistful tune, one that was almost comforting in its own way. A stack of plates pile on the counter next to the woman, surrounded by a monument of cups.

  “Uh,” Liv starts, her balled up hand coming to her mouth as she clears her throat, “Scuse me, but who are ya?” She questions, pushing herself fully into her room. For some reason, she could feel that sense of unease fading when she crests the entrance.

  The woman turns, her face unsurprised by Liv’s sudden entrance. She had soft features, small almond eyes complimented by a button nose. Blonde locks pour from the front of her black veil, bounded in place by that very same veil. She wore a combination of white and black, some sort of nun outfit– a concept Liv was unfamiliar with. The only thing Liv could recognize was the small, silver cross draped across her neck, shining delicately in the light of the room. Christian iconography wasn’t unfamiliar in her; in fact, her mother had one quite similar to it. It was as comforting as it was off-putting.

  “Ah, hello!” The woman starts, a soft smile spreading across her face. “I apologize if I startled you. I couldn’t help but let myself in.” She gestures around with an arm to the glistening room. “To make up for it, I took it upon myself to clean your room to the best of my abilities. I do hope that makes up for my impolite entrance.”

  Liv glances over the room once more, the floors shining like new. It hadn’t been this nice since she moved in.

  “I ‘spose.” Liv says, her eyes returning to the woman before her.

  The woman stares back before a spark passes her eyes. “Oh, introductions! Of course, my apologies.” She says, her hands coming down to pinch her robe as she bows to a modest curtsy. “I am Uriel. It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Liv Boss.”

  “Er, right back at ya.” Liv says awkwardly, trying to mimic the curtsy. It was the same as Charlotte's if just a bit more modest in its dip. It was easier, but hard enough to make the gesture awkward.

  Uriel only smiles politely, gesturing to the sink as she rises once more. “If I may be just a bit selfish, I would like your assistance with drying dishes. There are quite a few, and it is the last item I need to do here.”

  Liv looks to the modest pile of dishes sitting on the counter, then to the sink. With Uriel just out of the way, she could make out the tall pile of dishes stacking up from the frothing depths of the sink. It was more than she thought she had, but she had been eating more than she used to. There was just more to sample, more to bring home. She gives a slow nod, earning an approving nod from Uriel as she gestures to the sink. The two stand shoulder to shoulder as Liv removes her gauntlets, placing them to the side, a dish cloth finding its way to her hand as the two begin to clean in tandem.

  “You know,” Uriel says, breaking the short silence between the two, “Activities like this are always best when shared. Don’t you agree?”

  “I ain’t ever cleaned with anyone.”

  “Truly?” Uriel questions, her head cocking to the side. “I suppose it makes sense given your circumstance. Still, how unfortunate a young lady such as yourself would be stranded for so long. Such tests the Lord gives us.” She laments, her voice mournful as she passes Liv a previously milk stained cup. Liv quickly dries, pushing it next to the pile of cleaned plates.

  “Had my ma ‘fore she died, and I had my boss after that,” Liv starts, her head turning to the metal gauntlets pushed far down the counter, “so I had somethin’.”

  Uriel’s smile returns, her voice warmer as she speaks. “Such optimism is admirable, especially given your strength. I see so many children like you lost to pride and envy, unable to handle the responsibility that comes with their position. I was worried you would be as arrogant as the rest.”

  A spark of pride enters Liv’s chest at the compliment, a sheepish smile spreading across her face as she ducks her head, her body easing. “I ‘spose I was raised well, ma’am.”

  “I can see that.” Uriel comments, handing Liv a small plate with a golden cow carved onto the front– one of the many items that had come free with the room. Liv accepts it, drying it off with a fervor before placing it with the rest as Uriel continues. “I’m sure your mother is looking down on you with a warm smile. No doubt you and your boss will do great things.”

  “I hope so, ma’am.” Liv mutters, a blush creeping onto her face as her sheepish smile grows. Rare was it for her to get so many compliments, especially for one as kind at this Uriel figure. After the long day, it felt refreshing to have such a pleasant conversation with someone so agreeable.

  "I know so." Uriel says, giving Liv a coy smile. She quickly elaborates, her voice taking on an almost sing-song cadence, "A grateful heart attracts blessings. The Lord blesses his thankful."

  Silence stretches between the two for a moment, the sound of rushing water the only silence breaker as Uriel continues to pass dishes to Liv to dry, Liv adding them to the growing pile of clean dishes. It felt calm, peaceful, tranquil.

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  Eventually, Uriel opens her mouth once more, her voice as warm as ever. “If I may be honest, I didn’t come to your room just to clean. Quite the opposite, honestly. I do have something to ask of you.”

  Liv blinks, her head turning to face Uriel. In all honesty, she had forgotten that Uriel even broke in. Liv was having a good time, so any question in her mind had slipped away.

  Uriel reads the expression on Liv’s face, a gentle giggle escaping her mouth as she speaks, an underlying admonishment in her tone. “You’ll have to pay more attention,” She says, giving her finger a quick wag, as if to emphasize her point. “The wider world is quite dangerous, and you’ll find it rare that many are as kind as those you’ve met in the Initiative. I would know.” She says, her voice losing some of its endless warmth as a cup full of forks and knives find their way into Liv’s hands. Liv can only nod, taken aback by the tonal shift, that lace of anger that had slipped into Uriel’s voice. It wasn’t there long, but it was unmistakable as rage. As quickly as it had appeared, however, it vanished into Uriel’s warm smile, lost in a sea of her gentle kindness. “I have to ask… Do you have a full team?”

  Liv hums, her voice slow as she responds. “Kinda? I think I know, but I dunno.” She says noncommittally, her tone growing more sheepish. Uriel’s gentle smile soothes her a bit as she breathes in, restating her point, “I kinda know who I want, but I haven’t talked to ‘em ‘bout it.”

  “Ah, I see.” Uriel muses, her fingers drumming against a particularly stained plate, “Well, that doesn’t matter all that much, does it? They don’t have much of a choice if you do decide to take them.”

  “I ‘spose.” Liv mutters wistfully. “But I ain't gon' take someone who don't wanna be on my team. That'd be awful to them and to me.”

  "Anyone would be lucky to be a top contenders teammate. That is simply the way it's always been." Uriel notes." “I’ll be hoping with you, though.” she adds, handing Liv the now cleaned plate for her to dry. “Still, I must ask my request of you.” Her voice shifts, losing some of its levity.

  “I have someone who I hope you may take onto your team. My son,” She says, her hand coming to shut the sink off. The gushing of water ceases, Uriel’s voice the only sound to break the silence, “has been out of practice as of late. It breaks my heart to see him tested in such a way, especially with such unsavory individuals hampering him at every turn.” Her voice cracks at “individuals”, an unmistakable venom in the modest woman's voice. “With your boundless skill, your acceptance of him would make me… Quite happy.”

  Liv cocks her head to the side, considering the request. She had a few people in mind already, and she really did want most of those people on her team. On the other hand, Uriel was just so pleasant… So cool! She was being so nice, and the conversation was so easy to keep up. The more she thought about it, the more the idea grew on her. If this son of hers was anyone like their mother, she was almost giddy at the thought!

  “Well… Aight!” Liv said, a chipper chirp in her voice as she fully turns to Uriel. “I reckon I can fit ‘em in!”

  Uriel’s smile grows as she gestures to the table, gliding over herself. She was an angel of grace, nearly sliding across the floor as she took a seat. “Come, I can help you sign their person onto your team right now. It’ll have to be our little secret, though.” She winks, an almost mischievous smile on her face.

  Liv only nods, a smile on her face and a hum in her step as she walks over while sitting down. Uriel slides her a pen, Liv scrawling her name down on the dotted line.

  “Thank you so very much, Ms. Boss. You’ve done more for me than you could ever know!” Uriel says, a radiant smile spreading across her face as she stands, slowly pushing her chair in. “Just remember not to tell anyone, ok? I wouldn’t want to have some sort of misunderstanding…”

  Liv cocks her head, her eyebrows furrowing. How could she think Liv would tell on her? Weren’t they friends now? She hopes they are, Uriel’s amazing. Liv slowly stands, walking over to her boss as she slides them on, a smile on her face. “I won’t tell a soul! You got my word-.”

  “LIIIIV! LIIIIIIIIIIIV!” She hears her boss cry, her body freezing as a chill goes down her spine. Something in her mind clicked, an eerie feeling passing through her body as a cold sweat formed on her back. Something was wrong, something was terribly wrong. Slowly, she turns to Uriel, her eyes shaking in her skull.

  Why did she think this woman was so amazing again?

  It felt like something was drilling right into her head, like something was gnawing away at her mind. That was secondary, however, to the immense pressure she felt. It was like thousands of tons of force on her very being at all times, shaking her body and soul to their very core. She can barely stand, her knees buckling as she tries her hardest to stay upright. An attempt that, in the end, is in vain as her knees collide with the floor, her head ducking, unable to push herself back up.

  “Once again, I thank you for your cooperation.” Uriel says, slowly standing from her seat. Only now can Liv hear the undertone in her voice, the resonance in her every word– as if she was more than just herself. It was terrifying to behold. She watches as Uriel begins to walk toward her, that same grace in her step as she stands over her, the angelic woman coming to her knees, their eyes locking as her voice echos out. Her eyes glow a holy yellow, unnatural as they are horrifying. She stares beyond Liv, glaring into something she dares not know.

  "I hope you'll keep my son safe. If you fail in this, I will see that you join him. That is my promise to you." She swears, gold light seeping from her cross, burning into her skin. Liv can only stare as she stands once more, her robe swishing as she turns, making her way to the door. She stops, however, as Liv’s door slams open, a voice calling through the room.

  “Gahh… Gahh… Liiiv?” Donovan calls, running into the room, his footsteps clapping against the floor as he opens the door. “Are you here? I swear, if you aren’t, I'm gonna be super pissed-.”

  His voice freezes as Uriel halts, the two staring right at each other. From her vantage, Liv can see the color drain from Donovan’s face, his jaw slackening as his legs warble beneath him. Uriel only smiles, walking past him, closing the door behind her. Finally, Liv can stand once more, her legs still shaking as she pushes herself up. She didn’t realize it, but tears were streaming down her face, the makeup Charlotte put on streaking down her cheeks.

  “Are you all right, Liv?” Her boss questions quickly, full of worry and fear. It’s initial yell was the first time she had ever heard it so filled with emotion, so primal;y terrified of anything. It was jarring, horrifying.

  “I’m fine, I think.” Liv responds, her response more unsure than anything. Despite being in her presence for less time, Donovan looked far worse, his jaw slack as he stumbles in Liv’s room further, his eyes darting to Liv.

  “T-t-that was Uriel,” He says, his jaw working to speak, “That was the Uriel Bouiour, from Group A. Why were you talking to the Uriel Bouiour!? Why was she so scary? Why are you crying? Did she beat the hell out of you or something? Do I need to contact someone-?”

  “I’m fine,” Liv repeats, her voice coming out unsteady as her gauntleted fingers come to rub her temples, soothing the headache she had incurred, “We just-.” She stops herself, remembering Uriel’s words. Whatever “problem” Uriel promised was not something she wanted to be on the receiving end of. “We just… Talked.”

  “Talked?” Donovan says, his wide eyes giving her a once over. “You were talking with her?”

  “Mhm.” Liv confirms, stabilizing herself on the counter, leaning onto it for support. “It was, uh, a ‘girls talk’. Real stuff, y'know?”

  “O-ok.” Donovan says slowly, looking to the door. “I-I guess I’m gonna go throw up since you seem fine. Just, uh, tell me if Ms. Bouiour comes back. I don’t want to see anything like that ever again.”

  Liv nods as Donovan leaves, her body stumbling over to her bed. The covers were nice, cleaned and tucked to perfection. Just under the covers was her stuffed penguin, its beady eyes staring up at her as she collapsed onto the bed. On the bright side, she didn’t have to worry about her third slot anymore. On the negative side, she had no clue who it was. Whoever they were, they were on her team now. Did she know a Bouiour? She throws the name around, the syllables sounding familiar in her head; yet, she couldn’t grasp onto it.

  After a moment's thought, it pops into her head, her eyes widening as she shoots back up. She knew a Bouiour… But it couldn’t be, he got the lowest score!

  Anthony was that scary woman's son?