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kookiepredictions · 4 years ago

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Jungkook Current Energy

Jungkook has a... little skip in his step right now. He’s in LOVE. There might be a person in the picture but more than anything else, he is in love with LIFE. He is gracefully twirling out of mental and emotional binds that have been keeping him captive and he’s never felt freer! He feels like he has wings and he can fly and he wants to share this flight with those he loves. His heart space is overflowing with bliss and he wants to share this joy with everyone. Yet, he also realizes slowly that this is not something he can just give to someone— the other person has to be ready to receive it as well. So he is also safeguarding his bliss from those that might try to distort it with their own doubts or agenda. Outside, people might not even realize that his inner world is changing rapidly. After years of living life from external programming, Jungkook is now writing his own rules for his own life. There is a tsunami of rebellion inside his heart, but this is not the restless, chaotic kind— it is peaceful and stable, but also kind of a middle finger to external control programming lol. His bliss is not just confined to him either; I see a bevy of angels, guides and ancestors dancing around him in joy— it feels like a celebration! His heart chakra is spinning in a vortex of power that is soon going to be radiated all around him. Soon, his life is going to feel like a treasure trail where everyday he wakes up, each day feels like a diamond he has found on a walk— full of endless possibilities and rewards.

The last few years has felt like going through a series of doors where he opens one door which leads to another and then another... endlessly, and he was getting tired of it. Now he is at the threshold of the door that opens up to infinite space— it’s such a beautiful picture you guys I wish someone paints it— he will be standing on the edge of the earth with the door opening up to the stars where he will feel one with the cosmos, his bare feet planted firmly on the earth with long roots growing and connecting right to the core of the earth— he is placed perfectly between the physical and the divine realms. Right at this moment though, he is at the point where he is still ever-so-slightly hesitant. As I had mentioned in an earlier read, Jungkook attributes his spiritual journey and lessons and basically all good things to his Divine Feminine. There is an overwhelming gratitude that he feels for her and wants to share every beautiful experience and emotion that he feels with her. He is in a space with here where he trusts no one else with his happiness more than her. This is why, in happiness or in grief, in pain or in pleasure, he inadvertently wants to reach out to her. The “twin”, “I am you and you are me” aspect of this connection is dawning heavily on him and he can’t wait to experience this miraculous existence with her in the physical realm. This beautiful feeling when stretched out to the extreme, results in him being overly dependent on her which in turn makes the connection co-dependent which ultimately results in them repelling each other. This is why the more he tries to hold on to her tightly out of fear-based beliefs, the more he seems to be getting further away from her. This was the energy of the past, and Jungkook is slowly learning to let her go and ever since he has started to let go, she seems to be magically drawn to him. Right now he is in the energy of stepping into the realm of infinite possibilities and yet is just that bit hesitant and fearful where it’s like he is holding on to the pinky finger of her hand lol, unsure and fearful of what lies on the other side— kind of a “1 bird in hand is better than 2 in the bush” mentality. But what he is holding on to is only an old and outdated version of her; his Feminine has long since crossed over to the other side, so he’s only holding on to ashes, an illusion. It’s safe for him to fully let go and surrender. The upcoming theme for him is “sovereignty”. He is being led into direct connection with the Divine, who I see as his ultimate Guardian overseeing his whole life and his Twin Flame connection, where the Divine is like the father ushering in both of them into a life of bliss— I see 2 kids, a girl and a boy, frolicking in the fields— this is their inner children stepping out to play. His Feminine is already there and she and the Divine are waiting for him to let go of the past reality and step into this new one. For this, he has to go through the phase of spiritual sovereignty. He is being guided to be independent in his thoughts, beliefs and decisions— not just independent from those who he thinks are harmful, but also from those who he thinks are helpful, including his Feminine. Here, the point is not who is helpful, who is harmful, or who is good and who is bad, the point is only he can decide for himself from now on. Anything else will be rendered useless in his life. At this very moment, Jungkook is not entirely confident he can do it all by himself, plus as a perfectionist, he is extremely scared of making mistakes and putting himself and everyone else connected to him in jeopardy. But with energy, stagnation is more harmful than mistakes. In the bigger picture of the grand scheme of life, there are no mistakes. For every action is a step forward, so you can never really go backwards or do “harm” from a future perspective. The only harm therefore is to not make a choice, because if you don’t make a choice, someone else will and then you are in someone else’s reality rather than your own reality that you created from your own sovereign choice. There is also no rush or missed opportunities or moments, so take as long as you want, but be mindful that your life is a product of your own sovereign choice. Jungkook is being guided to step into the confidence of being a Creator, and is being encouraged by his guides and ancestors via synchronicities, rewards and surprises and of course, his intuition. In some recent happenings, he has had a taste of truthful sovereignty and he wants more. He is tuning into his intuition and realizing he is a lot more capable and connected than he has ever given himself credit for. He is slowly but surely learning to trust himself to take control over his thoughts, emotions and ultimately his life. Like I said, a tsunami of changes, but this tsunami is clearing away his old beliefs and programs and therefore, creating more calm and peace within him, that has also been gradually radiating outside where there will be visible changes in his aura and his beingness.

Nonetheless, Jungkook is happier than he has been in a while. Now on your spiritual journey, you will be met with a lot of happy moments and as a traveller that feels weary, it’s natural to want to settle for these happy moments and a lot of people make the mistake of doing so, not realizing that these are only the oasis in the desert. The actual goal is to cross the desert, because an oasis will not sustain you forever. Sooner or later, you will feel that this happiness is not enough and you need more, and that’s because as fulfilling as it is, it is limited. Jungkook is kind of wanting to settle in this moment of happiness because Lord knows how scarce this has been for him. And so, from time to time, he wants to hold on tightly to this, from fear that this might be taken away from him. But what he doesn’t realize (or know) is that the Divine has plans far, far bigger than this. This happiness will not be taken away from him, it will be magnified— should he dare to dream bigger. Right now, Jungkook’s conscious dreams and goals are not at par with what his soul had planned prior to his incarnation. He keeps limiting his goals from a lack of self worth and fear of the unknown, but he has been coming out of this energy for quite a while now, which has led him to this door of limitlessness. I’d say most of his hesitation is surrounding his Feminine because he fears if he lets go of her and focuses exclusively on himself and his life, he might lose her and mistakenly create a life where she is not with him. But the irony is that as Twin Flames, their souls have made a promise to each other: to only be with each other’s highest selves. This is why, when in their lowest selves, they repel each other and are stuck in the runner-chaser dynamic, but when operating from their higher selves, they attract each other. So to be with each other, they must be their true sovereign selves— devoid of any fear or doubts and instead, full of faith and that unconditional love that doesn’t seek to control or own but shares their own wings and flight with the other so both can fly free in a sky of infinite possibilities. Therefore, what Jungkook sees as letting go of her, is just him letting go of her illusion— she does not exist in that limited realm anymore. This is why Jungkook feels his fear of losing her slowly fading. As their souls are connected, it is simply an energetic reaction to her levelling up. This is the beauty of this connection— if one sets themselves free, the other will feel that urgency to follow suit, whether it makes sense or not. As his Feminine surrenders herself to the Divine, Jungkook is feeling this sense of surrender washing upon him too. Yet, his mind continues to challenge this phenomenon, wanting to stay back just a bit longer. However, given how long he has been in the healing, his mind is only putting up a weak fight; the surrender looms stronger. He is answering to his inner call, trusting that what he wants will not pass him by.

Another upcoming theme in his life is “explorer of the world”. In the last few years, Jungkook has been, knowingly or unknowingly, in the process of integrating 5D energy into his being. As this integration is complete, he will feel a strong urge to explore life, because this integration will feel like a rebirth or as if he has been transplanted with a new set of eyes and the world as he knew earlier, seems so different. Where previously, the world was a dull, colourless existence full of misery and struggle, now the world will seem bright, colourful and full of possibilities. When he has this new eyesight, he will want to re-engage with the world in a new way and re-experience it all over again. Therefore his call to “sovereignty” is a preparation for this new life. As I said earlier, his soul believes that his conscious plans are not at par with his unlimited capabilities, so this upcoming stage in his life will be about re-imagining his goals and dreams. If he could have ANYTHING AND EVERYTHING in this world, what are the things would he truly want? So far Jungkook’s goals have been very practical and dare I say, from a lack mindset where he focused more on what is practically possible and what is not. Still, it’s because of his sincerity and purity of heart that the Divine has blessed him with so much more than what he had originally expected. Therefore so far, his achievements have been more of a Divine intervention than a conscious creation on his part— kind of like, wow, big things happened and let me just roll with it and work hard to keep them going. That reality is now ending for him. Through his Twin Flame connection that gives him so much happiness, the Divine is now asking him to be a conscious creator. It’s like holding up a shiny toy in front of him like, you want this? You want to have exactly what you want? Then get comfortable being a sovereign creator. Of course, he will still be supported by the Divine because his soul has literally signed up to be in this role. The only thing that is standing between his present self and the self that gets everything he wants is Faith— faith in his own abilities to navigate his own path to his own highest self, and faith in a higher Divine guardianship that is always, always watching over him, protecting him, guiding him, always ready to give him whatever support he needs. As long as he places his faith in any other person of this world, no matter how capable they are, he will keep hitting a wall, because it’s now time for him to be his own guide with support straight from the Divine. This includes his Feminine— powerful as she is in her spiritual abilities, she can never replace the Divine in his life; in fact as his Divine counterpart (it’s in the name), she will always nudge him towards the Divine. The more he tries to get close to her for guidance, the more she will push him away and guide him towards the Divine. She won’t even have to do it consciously; this will happen energetically.

Jungkook has been yearning to manifest his Twin Flame connection into an earthly relationship as fast as possible, but the Divine is like, are you sure you know exactly what you want? Because it’s not just about a person, it’s also about everything else in the relationship. And what about your life? Do you know exactly what you want in life? Jungkook’s manifestations are actually being delayed because his soul had made far bigger plans for his life and is like, nah uh, your earthly plans are wee compared to mine, and is egging him on to expand his consciousness beyond his perceived limits. His connection is not manifesting because this alone time is meant for him to re-evaluate his goals and plans. Like I said, so far, Jungkook has been in the habit of planning practically. This time, armed with an open heart space and a limitless consciousness, he will be able to foresee his life more clearly and more in alignment with his soul plan. His manifestations are being delayed not because the Divine doesn’t support him, but because the Divine refuses to let him settle for anything less than he deserves. To top it off, the Divine wants him to have the pleasure of co-creating all of this as a conscious creator. This is that unconditional love that he has been seeking from his Feminine and yet is rejecting from the Divine, not realizing that that is where this love flows from.

So, as soon as that final door opens, he will find himself in an exciting adventure of literally creating and building a new life for himself— all from what he wants and what makes him happy, rather than what he was told was possible or impossible. As they say, the sky will be the limit for him— the sky will be his huge canvas for him to fill with every colour and pattern that he wants his life to be filled with, right from the tiniest, silliest things to jaw-droppingly grand ones. It’s an open ended question with unlimited potential: what does he want? Does he want to be the king of the world? Or maybe he wants to go to a small seaside village, swim with the sharks, sleep under the stars and write poetry by the fire? Or maybe he wants to dive into world music, make little playlists and fall in love with the idea of love itself? It’s a main character energy he will be getting into where he explores life again, but this time with joy and bliss in his heart instead of fear and limits. Maybe he doesn’t see it yet but this “alone” (I mean separate from his Feminine) time is crucial because 1) how disappointing it would be if he ended up manifesting a life that doesn’t have everything that he would want, simply because he did not put in the time to think of everything he wants, and 2) this little adventure will lead him to himself like no one else ever can. Okay, so flashback, one of the first things I noticed about Jungkook is his self denial. I mean in a world full of narcissists, it is refreshing to see someone who doesn’t think he’s all that lol, but it is also sad because self denial is not the same as humility. Jungkook doesn’t have imposter syndrome either, much less even being an imposter, no, he’s always himself, but it’s more like he doesn’t completely put himself out there. Ad I don’t mean in the privacy kind of way, that is different, but Jungkook holds back from a very deep sense of something like “I’m not all that amazing to be putting myself out there so much”. Maybe he even thinks that he’s “too much”. It’s a miracle that even after holding back so much, what we see of him still impresses and amazes us, but it’s like, there’s so much more where that came from! I always feel like I have to look at him through a magnifying glass because of how much of himself he holds back, and yet it’s contradictory because his energy is so strong! Therefore I believe it’s more of a conscious habit to constantly “hide” even when he is in full show. This definitely stems from his harsh self judgment. I do see him coming out of this mindset, but the flip side of this is overgiving and overdoing to a point of being performative. So even when you think he is giving his 100%, most of the time he is performing. What I mean by this is, he might DO 100% (or even 200%), but he isn’t BEING 100%. The problem with this is that no matter how much you do, you will come across as “not enough” because you’re not being your whole self. In spirituality these days, there is a lot of emphasis on being and rightly so, because being a 100% will naturally attract things to you that doing a lot more than that won’t. This is why this upcoming phase of his life where he exclusively explores his own mind and his own life will help him gather all of his scattered bits and pieces so he can be a 100% wherever he goes and whatever he does. Because the only time he is able to be 100% is when he lives from a place of joy and bliss. This is also why he craves his Feminine so much— doing even the littlest, most random things for and with her makes him feels whole and complete, because he does these things straight from the heart, with joy. But this is only a temporary fix and also toxic because she can’t keep making him complete; it’s draining for her if it turns into her responsibility. Instead, if he focuses on making himself whole, whatever she does for and with him will feel even more joyful because it’s freeing. And also, no matter how amazing your goals and plans are for life, the most important element to enjoy life is you— if you do not feel whole and complete, no matter where you go, who you are with, and how great of a person they are, you will still feel empty. The Divine said that’s not going to happen with Jungkookie lol. So yes, in the near future, you will find him focusing on this area of his life. The era of “holding back” Jungkook will soon be over, and given that he has been so entertaining and endearing already, God save us when he steps out in his full form, without doubts, questions, denials and also without the need to people-please an instead just being his whole complete self, secure and peaceful in the knowledge of who he is and that he always gets what he wants. It is this self-assured beingness that will give him the confidence to step forward knowing that any outer problem or resistance will have to fall back because when you’re on your Divinely destined path, literally hell and heaven both support you. Of course this is not to say that he will never face problems, that is not the point of life at all, rather he is working on being centered in himself so that no matter what the external situation is, he always knows exactly what he wants and doesn’t stop until he gets it. Jungkook 2.0 is coming soon you guys! Of course I say Jungkook 2.0 but it’s more like him going back to the point of starting his career, because that’s where he sort of started living this life. He’s going back to the wide-eyed wonder he had about this career— a place of art, beauty, creativity and love from millions. He’s going back to re-discovering the fun aspect of this life as it used to be back in the day when they were at point 0, where they had nothing to prove, no one to please and nothing to lose. Just a path of endless possibilities and the excitement of trying out new things and the pure joy they received from the love of their first batch of Armys when none of the big shots in the world was looking their way. Although that exact external situation won’t come back, he can still recreate the freshness of the inner mindset. The demand of the moment is to let go of expectations regarding outcomes and dive into the joy of creating. The Divine only has the best of rewards in store for him and won’t budge unless he aligns his conscious wants with the best. That’s all folks, I wish him well in his what I know is going to be a magnificent journey. The Feminine is just the cherry on top, but also like, the cake and the icing needs to be ready first :)

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mostlycompetentwriter · 5 years ago

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You can STAY- Part Three

F/M Pairing: Y/N x Lee Felix (side pairing: Y/N x Stray Kids)

Word Count: 5.2K

Warnings: Language

Genre: Fantasy AU; Scarlet Heart AU; OT8 SKZ

Previous Parts: Part One, Part Two

Summary: Y/N has another unexpected confrontation with Prince Felix. But he’s also not her biggest problem, especially when she uncovers a potentially devastating plot that could completely unravel the royal hierarchy.

Taglist: @angelphantomlove @moonlightracha @staycarat0801 @jjabbur @pinkchcn @smolchild-lol @straykidbaby @moonnstars90 @choisaemi @dru-shadow @skzooyeet

It was still early that morning when I woke-up to the sound of someone knocking on the door to my bedroom. For a moment, I was too disoriented to respond, but the sound grew louder with the force of whoever was insistent about coming inside. Finally, I gave in and walked over to answer the door with a nonchalance that I’m sure reflected my drowsiness.

“Jeongin?” I questioned, surprised to see the younger standing on the other side.

“Hi, Y/N,” he said, and it was a timid greeting as he shuffled anxiously in the doorway.

“Did you need something?” I asked, wondering why one of the King’s sons had went out of his way to visit me in my small dungeon bedroom.

“I, uh, wanted to make sure you weren’t busy today,” Jeongin said. “I'd like to visit the market again and try to sell my paintings.”

The request took me off-guard, and I didn’t know which I was more surprised to hear: that Jeongin wanted me to accompany him, or that the King’s youngest son made trips to the market to sell his artwork like he didn’t already have enough money. “I guess I can go with you,” I said.

“It’s mostly for protection,” Jeongin said. “Cuz’ of your powers and stuff...”

I grinned at his awkward conversation because it was strangely adorable to hear him stumble over his request. “I’d love to, Jeongin,” I said. “Let me get dressed and I’ll meet you outside on the bridge.”

Jeongin nodded in agreement and I gently closed the door to prepare myself for an impromptu trip into town.

It certainly sounded like a better prospect than resigning myself to another day of medicinal experimentation - searching for the cure that would alleviate Ella’s suffering. Ever since my encounter with Chan’s wife, I had been relentlessly searching my manuals and the records kept neatly arranged in the Castle’s library. However, despite my efforts, I was no closer to finding the answers than I had been during our first meeting.

Yet, I could never give-up on something that might help someone else in need, so I maintained my confidence that I just needed to look harder. But one day out of the confines of my bedroom couldn’t possibly hurt, especially since I had experienced an excruciating headache during the previous night after spending all afternoon hunched over my desk.

I nodded in self-determination, swiping my brush through my hair one more time before I left my room, walking upstairs alone with the company of my thoughts as I tried to focus on the task at hand. If Jeongin trusted me enough for protection, then I would do my best not to disappoint him. I had worked hard to fine-tune my powers for any case that might arise while I served the royal family, and I considered my fighting skills to be an enormous source of pride.

“You should feel privileged to walk so freely without care.”

I paused at the top of the staircase at the sound of an all-too familiar voice, and I frowned when Felix came into view while wearing an arrogant smile. “Forgive me, miss,” he said. “I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure of a proper introduction.”

“Then what do you consider our last meeting?” I asked him. “If I recall correctly, you insinuated that I would bring ruin to this Castle.”

“Of course not,” Felix said. “It was rather premature of me to base my opinion on a foolish disagreement with Seungmin.”

“I agree,” I said, keeping my tone neutral as I watched him come even closer. “Do you not believe such things anymore?”

“I find you perfectly elegant, Y/N,” Felix said. “You seem to prioritize your morals above everything else, and I can sense a profound loyalty for my family despite only just arriving a few nights ago.”

“Not so much your family,” I corrected him. “I serve the kingdom, and that means honoring those who lead it.”

“How righteous,” Felix said. “Consider me impressed by your character.”

“I wish I could the say the same,” I said, and I was pleased when Felix’s smile vanished.

“Have I done something to offend you?” Felix asked. “I apologized for my actions. Please don’t tell me that you intend to hold a grudge?”

“Consider it more of a casual suspicion,” I said, watching his green eyes narrow. “I’ve learned a lot about you since my arrival.”

“Is that so?” Felix asked, and I could tell that he was not appreciative of my comment.

I nodded as I remembered my conversation with Chan on the same afternoon when I met his wife - how he willingly opened up to me about his red-haired brother in exchange for a tentative promise to help his wife.

“I know that you aren’t wanted here,” I said. “I was told that your own mother tried to kill you when you were merely a child.”

“Where did you hear this?” Felix asked, but his tone wasn’t angry like I had been expecting; instead, he seemed unusually morose while he looked at me with sad green eyes.

“Does it matter?” I asked him. “How else should I look upon someone whose own father hated him so much that he sent him away to another kingdom?”

My words triggered a brief silence between us, and it seemed like they had a great affect on Felix, but I was still stunned when he reached out to grab my wrist - directing my hand over his heart. “Do you feel that?” he asked, and I slowly nodded. “I’m human, Y/N,” he continued. “This opinion you have of me matters because it’s made you forget that I’m flesh and blood like you. And I expected someone with your moral integrity to know better than to treat an equal as lesser, or to believe nasty rumors without understanding the whole story.”

I could feel my mouth fall open in shock, and I looked at Felix for the first time without a single ounce of judgment. But I still couldn’t help but remain stuck on one word in particular: “Equal,” I repeated.

“Do you not consider that accurate?” Felix asked. “As far as I’m concerned, we both live and breath and share the same experiences. And to address your other offense against me, I’d like you to understand that my mother is a wicked woman who has always favored her eldest son. She held him to the utmost regard while I was nothing but a mistake that she always regretted...Yes, my mother did try to kill me, but it wasn’t out of a sense of righteousness to rid this world of a perceived evil. And when she wasn’t successful, she gave me this scar that I hide from the rest of the world.”

I swallowed hard when Felix removed the black mask obscuring the left side of his face to reveal a diagonal line of jagged edges. “In actuality, she would’ve done anything to ensure that Chan had no competition to stand in his way of the throne. But look at how well that worked out for them both. Chan decided to marry a peasant girl and defy our father, and he deserves his lowered status because he needs to finally understand that his actions have consequences that can last for a lifetime.”

He finished his tirade with a heavy exhale before securing his mask back into place. “Look at us, Y/N. We’ve both decreed presumptive judgments of one another, and they’re entirely inaccurate.” He then lowered his gaze when he infiltrated my personal space - far closer than what might be considered appropriate. “Forgive me for all that I’ve done that forced you to seek these lies. Perhaps in the future, we can hold a civil conversation together.”

I closed my eyes, reeling from the onslaught of his confession. “Why are so insistent on defending these perceptions, Felix?”

“Because you came here with no outside bias against me,” Felix replied. “I refuse to see these royals feed you misinformation just for you to turn against me as well.”

“I suppose it almost worked,” I said. “But I’m still confused after listening to an entirely different side.”

“It’s my side,” Felix insisted. “Seek the truth for yourself, but keep in mind that the people in this Castle are all looking out for their best interests.”

“Aren’t you doing the same?”

“Yes, but you’ll hopefully come to find that I never speak untruths,” he said. ��My mother is an insane liar, and her clever tongue managed to keep Chan in this castle after his marriage, even though the king decided to deny him the opportunity to take the throne. I’ve seen her behave this way for my entire life, and I once vowed to never be anything like her.”

He finally stepped away, and I was able to inhale without restriction. His grin returned as he observed me. “Despite what you’re thinking, my return to the castle was not predicated on ill-conceived intentions. There’s no reason to doubt me, Y/N, and for the record, I’d like you to know that you’ve fascinated me from the moment I saw you at the choosing ceremony.”

His final declaration rendered me speechless, and I found myself trembling when he offered me a discreet wink before returning in the direction from which he had arrived.

By the time the sun was at its highest point in the sky, Jeongin and I were carefully walking around the outskirts of the market - searching for the perfect place to set up his paintings. “I do this all the time,” Jeongin reassured me with a cute smile that was impossible to deny.

“Okay,” I agreed, admiring the usual bustle of the market as eager patrons searched for the best prices on the goods they required.

“Over there,” Jeongin suggested, pointing to an empty stall, and I followed him with a selection of his paintings secured under my arm. “Let’s organize them,” Jeongin said, and I carefully followed his instructions while also admiring the beautiful creations that he had crafted.

“These are gorgeous,” I said, and he brightened at the compliment.

“Really?”

“Of course,” I said, tracing my fingertips across the texture of an oil painting. “They look so real.”

“My mother thinks it’s a waste of time,” Jeongin scoffed, gaze hardening for a moment as he stepped back to admire our efforts.

“I think it’s creative,” I said. “It makes you stand out from the others.”

“Exactly,” Jeongin agreed. “Everyone else already has something that makes them unique, and I wanted my own thing.”

“Well, you certainly found it,” I said, pausing when I noticed an elderly woman approaching our collection.

“How much for this one?” she inquired, indicating a rather gorgeous recreation of the surrounding mountain range.

While Jeongin started negotiations, I took my time perusing the remaining pieces that he had brought with him. I could tell that he had put his heart and soul into faithful adaptations of the most random subject matter: everything from scenic portraits to little drawings of his family members. It was a fascinating dynamic to his character, and I wondered how long the prince had been painting because these looked far too advanced considering his young age.

“Are you serious!?” a hostile voice growled, interrupting my musings with a tone that alerted me to possibility of an impending confrontation.

“What’s going on?” I asked, coming to stand next to a fuming Jeongin as he glared at the man who was holding one of his paintings.

“This little brat thinks he can swindle me out of my money!” the man said. “The cost of this shit is worth more than my house!”

“Oh, I’m sure he’d reconsider the price,” I said, stepping closer when I sensed an opportunity to appease the tension.

“I won’t!” Jeongin declared. “That piece is incredibly valuable!”

“Of course, the bastard thinks that his royal blood makes everything he touches turn to gold.”

“That’s enough,” I said, lowering my tone. “You can look elsewhere if you can’t afford his price.”

“For your information, bitch, I’m looking in exactly the right place,” the man said, and I noticed him reaching for the sword secured at his side.

I took a deep breath when I noticed that the men he had traveled with were also advancing on the two of us - raising their own weapons into the air. I narrowed my eyes and willed their swords to fly out of their hands - shocking both of his partners. “You might want to reconsider your stance,” I said to the first man, but his accompanying smirk caught me off-guard - like he wasn’t intimidated in the slightest by my magic.

“Maybe you need a lesson in manners too,” the man said, and I could barely formulate a response before I heard Jeongin shriek my name while a pair of arms wrapped around my waist. I could feel the breath escape my lungs, and then there was a hand over my eyes, preventing me from seeing what was happening, and I started thrashing around in the limbs holding me hostage. “Let me gut this stupid girl first,” the man said, and I could hear Jeongin calling for help as the sharp point of a sword teased the side of my throat.

But the man never followed through on his promise, and I only realized a moment later that he had been compromised when I fell to the ground with a grunt. My hand went to my throat because I could still feel the phantom effects of the sword’s blade, and my eyes blinked rapidly as I saw two figures standing at the front of our stall - waving their swords with impressive skill and growling out insults. Apparently, Jeongin’s call for help had actually been answered, and I was relieved to see both Prince Chan and Prince Felix warding off the opposition.

“Your business here is done,” Felix said, appearing nothing short of intimidating with his mask and sword.

“They should be so lucky,” the first man snarled, but he knew better than to continue a fight that he was destined to lose.

I watched him walk away before I realized that Felix and Chan were both hovering over me with matching expressions of concern. “Y/N?” Chan asked with a gentle tone.

“Thank you,” I managed to respond, flushing when I noticed that both Felix and Chan had outstretched their hands for me to take. But instead of forcing myself to make that decision, I rose at my own autonomy, glaring at Felix when he chuckled.

“They might not be so lucky next time,” one of the men called back, and he must’ve still been riding the waves of adrenaline when he chanced a step back in our direction.

“Get the hell out of here,” Chan snapped at the burly man who had helped attack us, and he grumbled in complaint but obeyed nonetheless. “Y/N,” Chan repeated, shoving Felix out of the way as he came closer. “Are you okay?”

I nodded while Felix scoffed. “What the hell were the two of you doing causing trouble like that?”

“We weren’t causing trouble,” I said, and Felix smirked.

“Good,” he said in response. “After our conversation earlier, I would hate to discover that you had lied to me, Y/N.”

Chan frowned at that - glancing between me and Felix with a curious expression. “Let’s just get everyone back to the castle,” he said, and I agreed with one last glare in Felix’s direction.

The next morning, Anna woke me up early with a bright smile. “Good news,” she said, starting for my wardrobe. “The King has requested your presence at the tea ceremony today! They’re honoring Minho for his selection.”

I groaned around the exhaustion holding me captive. “Is this a request or a demand?”

Anna hesitated as she laid a dress across my bed. “Well, I wouldn’t ignore the King.”

“Of course,” I said, forcing myself to abandon the comforts of my mattress. “When will it take place?”

“This afternoon,” Anna said. “You should hurry and get dressed.”

I nodded quietly in easy compliance, watching Anna leave me to my own volition as I forced myself to put on the dress that she had left behind for me. It was fairly modest, but the sleeves had a very delicate lace lining them. I also spent a few moments in front of the mirror to check my appearance, which I never normally allowed, before I left my room to walk upstairs.

It was suspiciously quiet in the corridors, and I found it strange because I remembered that the King’s wives lived in this area of the Castle. But it was pointless to assume anything, and perhaps they were already waiting at the ceremony with their sons.

However, my senses went on high alert when I heard two voices intermingling towards the end of the passage, and I pinpointed the noise coming from a single bedroom. Subsequently, I paused outside the room, glancing through the space between the door and the entryway to see Changbin and Queen Seo speaking together in low voices.

“You’ll be next to the King,” Queen Seo said, and she clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth as she examined Changbin’s outfit. “Do you remember the plan?”

“Of course,” Changbin replied. “I shall look for the handmaiden.”

“I’ll have her deliver the tea,” Queen Seo explained. “Once Minho drinks it...” She trailed off with a maniacal grin, reaching out to adjust Changbin’s hanbok. “My son looks so handsome,” she remarked. “Like a true leader.”

Changbin sneered at her words. “He thinks that Minho could possibly do better than me?”

Queen Seo shook her head as if she couldn’t believe it either. “Don’t trouble your mind. Tonight, we shall change his perception after we kill that little bastard.”

The promise held dangerous implications, and I stumbled backwards from the door in surprise. It was my sworn duty to protect the rulers of this Castle, and I had barely given the plot any further consideration before I was returning to my quarters.

Because I would ensure Minho’s well-being, even at the cost of my own position.

I was late to the tea ceremony as a result of my efforts, but I only received a stern reprimand from Ms. White before she escorted me to my seat next to Seungmin and Jisung. It also offered me an appropriate vantage point of Minho who I kept within my sights as everyone spoke around me with joyful tones. I had nearly forgotten that it was a celebration, and I found myself narrowing my eyes at Queen Seo and Changbin as they laughed together with the King like there was nothing wrong.

“You seem distracted.”

I slid my gaze away from Changbin - locating Seungmin as he leaned in closer to be make himself heard over the noise. “What did you say?”

“You know, Y/N,” Seungmin said, propping his chin against his hand. “I happen to like this color on you.”

I was surprised by his strangely flirtatious tone. “Excuse, me?”

But instead of replying to my query, Seungmin shot me a discreet wink and turned to Jeongin who offered his brother a friendly smile. The whole encounter was decidedly unusual, and I wondered if everyone in this Castle was startling to lose their minds.

“Don’t concern yourself with him,” Jisung said while nodding at his brother. “He’s a rare breed.”

I found myself smiling at the jest in spite of my concerns. “What can you possibly mean by that, Prince Jisung?”

“It’s his way of impressing you,” Jisung said.

“Impressing me?”

“He’s convinced himself that you only fight with him to hide your true feelings,” Jisung revealed. “Seungmin thinks you’re harboring secret affections.”

“I might’ve helped,” Hyunjin added from across the table, and I grimaced at the idea before reclining back in my chair.

“How remarkable,” I said. “He didn’t seem to like me.”

“Seungmin always acts that way around strangers,” Jisung said. “But he warms up to them eventually.”

“Don’t take it personally,” Hyunjin said. “And try not to hold it against him. He really does like you.”

“But why shouldn’t he?” a new voice contributed, and both Jisung and Hyunjin flinched when Felix suddenly entered the room - pausing at the end of the table. “Y/N is very interesting.”

I turned away from him, fanning my hand across my chest because my heart was doing something peculiar inside my chest.

The King, however, was furious. He stood and glared down at Felix with narrowed eyes. “What are you doing here?”

“Why shouldn’t I come?” Felix returned. “I’d like to celebrate Minho’s ascension to the throne. It’s what a good brother should do.”

“It’s alright, father,” Minho said, and I’m sure his words were shocking to most of the people at the table. “He can sit with us.”

“Very well,” the King relented, but he never took his eyes away from Felix as he sat down next to Hyunjin. “We shall begin.”

The King’s command summoned several handmaidens who brought inside the ceremonial tea for our consumption. Because of what I had discovered earlier, I kept a close eye on the handmaiden who served Minho - it was poisoned tea, and I had taken a potion earlier that should stop its effects. Since the potion contained a powerful chemical that was effective against all the traditional poisons I had studied, everything should be fine.

But there was a small risk that the queen had chosen a poison that could defy my potion, but I doubted that she would go to such great lengths.

“In honor of my son, Minho,” the King announced. “We shall drink to his health and vitality.”

I held my breath when everyone lifted a tea cup into the air, and I chose that precise moment to make my move.

“Your highness,” I intervened, coming around the table to grab Minho’s cup - ignoring the gasps of horror that echoed from the queens. “Shall I try it first?”

Minho blinked in surprise, looking at me like he couldn’t believe that I was standing over him. “I-I suppose.”

“In your honor, of course,” I added hastily before lifting the rim of the delicate cup to my lips.

I could taste the poison as it slid down my throat, but I emptied most of the glass before wiping the remnants with the back of my hand. I sat the cup back on the table, swallowing hard when I felt the effects swim through my system. Thankfully, they were quickly assuaged by the potion that still lingered in my bloodstream. It worked just as I had imagined, and I reached out for Minho’s chair to overcome a brief bout of dizziness.

Everything was silent around me, but I forced a smile as I bowed to the King who was regarding me with a peculiar look. In the meantime, I was determined to finish the rest of the tea so that I could pour Minho something untainted. But I never anticipated further interruptions:

“I’d like to have the honor as well,” Felix said with a smirk, and I glared at him when he rose from his seat.

“It’s not necessary,” I insisted, but Felix jerked the cup away from me with an acute speed.

“But I insist,” Felix said, and he gave me a knowing look - one that said he was aware of the situation.

“Felix-” I tried again, but he had already lifted the rim to his lips - downing the rest of its contents with a sigh.

“Is this funny to you?” the King growled, and Felix simply chuckled.

“I’ve caused enough mischief for one afternoon,” he said, and he stumbled on his way to the exit.

“Fool,” I whispered because I knew that Felix could potentially die without treatment. Thus, I bowed once again to the king before running out of the room in search of him.

It didn’t take me long to find him - collapsed in the remote corridor outside of the room.

“Prince Felix!” I gasped, and I ran the remaining steps before dropping down next to his crumbled form. “Are you insane?”

Felix rolled over onto his back, chest heaving, as he fixed me with a familiar smirk. “How is it fair that you get to have all the fun?

“You knew,” I hissed, cradling his head on my lap as I reached into my robes for the extra potion. “Drink this,” I insisted, holding the vile up to his pale lips.

Felix obeyed, consuming the potion before grinning up at me. “Are you furious with me, Y/N?”

“You absolute fool,” I said, resisting the urge to jostle the prince too much while he still fought to recover. “Why would you do something like that? It was poisoned.”

“But nobody would’ve ever known,” Felix said. “I do admire you, Y/N, but is it wise to stop the efforts of one plot when the same person might conceive of a dozen others?”

I sighed when I realized the wisdom of his words. “It’s a complicated matter,” I said, and the Prince narrowed his eyes.

I didn’t like the suspicious gleam in his gaze, especially when he leaned most of his weight against me for a closer examination. “You know who it is?” he asked, and his nose brushed against mine.

“Don’t do this,” I pleaded with him because I knew that we were teetering precariously over dangerous ground with consequences that went beyond what either of us were prepared to face. It was a personal mattered that involved one of the King’s wives and her son - an issue that would lead to radical conflict.

“You won’t tell me,” Felix stated simply, and I thought I was in the clear until the prince opened his mouth again. “It must be very sinister. I’ll have to assume that it involved someone in that room.”

I swallowed hard and Felix smiled because I had just inadvertently given him the confirmation that he was seeking. “You shouldn’t meddle,” I warned him, shivering when his fingers traced along my lips.

“What I wouldn’t give to see inside that beautiful head of yours,” Felix said, and we both continued to stare at one another in awe.

But the moment was broken by the sounds of approaching footsteps, and I moved away from Felix just in time to see several guards running in our direction. “What’s wrong with him?” one of the guards demanded, and I hesitated because I had also noticed that most of the princes were arriving on the scene.

There was every opportunity to stick to my original plan and keep everything incognito, but then Felix gave me a meaningful look, and I reluctantly relented. “He’s been poisoned.”

“Poisoned!” one of the guards exclaimed, and there was only chaos that followed. Just as I had suspected. But there were also Felix’s green eyes, and they managed to anchor me to the moment, even amidst all the noise and screaming.

They were somehow reassuring, and I clung to them desperately when the King demanded my presence in the Throne Room.

It was an intimidating sight: kneeling before the King as he leered down at me from his throne. “Do you understand that you have no right to decide the fate of this Castle?”

I shivered at the underlying threat in his tone. “Your highness,” I said. “Forgive me. I thought it was best to solve this issue on my own as deemed by my duties.”

“Is this an admission of guilt?” The King asked. “Did you know what would happen before stepping inside that room?”

“Yes,” I said, closing my eyes and wondering if this would be my last day in the Castle.

“You knew of this plot but refused to speak up?” the King growled, and I lowered my head before him.

“Forgive me,” I once again requested softly. “I was afraid that revealing the complexities would cause the perpetrator to act out far more rashly.”

“My son almost died,” the King said, and I could see Minho shift in his seat from my peripheral vision.

“My intention was to save him,” I said. “I wanted to let the assailant know that their plots will never work while I’m around to protect the royal family.”

The King was silent for a moment after my confession, and he considered me with a strange look. “I see,” he finally said. “I cannot punish you mage because your efforts saved Minho, but I must also give you a warning: the next time you learn of something so consequential, you will come to me and reveal everything.”

“Yes, your majesty,” I said, and I stood once more at his command. “I shall remember your words.”

“Very well,” the King said with a dismissive hand. “You may retire to your quarters.”

I made sure to offer him a polite bow before I was rapidly making my way out of the Throne Room - mind working a mile a minute. The brief intervention had allowed the the rare chance to speak to the King without his wives - one of which remained guilty of the plot to kill Minho. I could’ve spoken out against her, but there were far more complications to such an innocuous action.

Who would really believe me over the word of the Queen?

More importantly, would Felix say something about my hidden knowledge? Because he had somehow figured out that I was aware of the guilty party involved, and I had no doubt that he would question me in the future.

Yet, there were also more pressing matters to consider, such as the unexpected arrival of Minho who had somehow escaped the King’s notice. “Mage,” Minho interrupted, stopping me outside the throne room. “Could I have a word?”

“Of course, your highness,” I said, and I followed Minho as he led me further down the corridor to a quiet enclave.

“This is more private for our conversation,” Minho explained, and I was struck by the smile he gave me.

“I’m all ears, your grace,” I said, but Minho surprised me further by laughing, and he crowded me against the wall.

“I know you drank the tea to save me,” Minho said, and I startled when he reached out to touch the side of my face.

“Your highness,” I said, flushing at the unexpected contact. “W-what do you mean?”

“You don’t have to be coy with me, Y/N,” Minho said, and I gasped because it was the first time that he had ever used my real name. “I may not understand love, but I can tell when someone is trying hard to catch my attention.”

I nearly spluttered around my words when I caught onto his implication. “Y-you misunderstand-”

“Please don’t hide anymore,” Minho said, and I faltered at the desperation in his tone. “Perhaps when we get to know one another, I’ll consider bringing the prospect of marriage before my father.”

Marriage!?

“You’re serious,” I said, and I struggled to form a single coherent sentence following Minho’s passionate declaration.

“Shall we start tonight?” Minho continued as if I had never spoken, and his fingers burned a trail down the side of my face.

It was obvious that he was lost to whatever perception he held of me, but I glanced to the side when I heard a noise that had not originated from myself or Minho. My eyes scanned the darkness, and I froze when I found myself caught in the snare of an intimate gaze. But I hesitated when I realized that those green irises belonged to Felix, and the look in his stare was impossible to discern.

#skzwriternet #stayverse #skz fanfic #stray kids fanfic #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #skz scenarios #stray kids scenarios #stray kids series #skz fantasy au #scarlet heart au #lee felix fanfic #slow burn #felix fanfic #mostlycompetent

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monchikyun · 5 years ago

Text

VII. wanna be yours

Gavin has gone over the speed limit plenty of times before, but never because he was just hurrying to meet someone he personally cared about. A first that makes him worried about his ability to stop his feelings from ruining everything before it gets too late. And it’s not like Connor is in any immediate danger, he would be a lot more panicked if that were the case since he has trouble regulating his natural responses - unfortunately so. Still, the poor android deserves better than to suffer through distress with no one around who would keep him above ground. A job he is more than willing to accept. He’d even go full-time if there was an opening, because none of his demons could ever prevent him from handing a helping hand to the person who lives inside his heart, just as long as their interactions stay platonic.

He clutches the steering wheel as he makes the final turn, wondering how on earth has he managed to fall this deep.

A part of him is really glad he did, but the rest is too busy wallowing in self-hate to take his feelings outside the confines of his polluted mind. He’s afraid they might be contaminated too, that he’d infect Connor with his foulness.

It’s still snowing with no signs of stopping any time soon, which might make their future trip rougher than he plans, but he welcomes it nonetheless. Grateful for the pleasant chill provided not only by the snowflakes that land in his hair and on his leather jacket as he exits the car.

Because he knows something warm is waiting for him inside.

Connor lives in a comparably small apartment tucked behind walls of a building resembling a cardboard box dotted with square holes more than anything. Not the kind of place he would associate with the android were they a little less familiar with each other. It was the only available location that would tolerate his beast of a roommate while being relatively close to work, Connor told him the first time he visited him. Come to think about it, he has only been here just two or three times. Not nearly enough, considering he’s supposed to be his biggest friend, (as far as he knows.) Though it’s difficult to imagine the android having a separate social life outside of work, bearing in mind how isolated he has become since the awful day in March. It took so much effort just to cut through his defences with harsh words that were meant to remind him that at least some aspects of his life are not going anywhere. A genius plan that got turned on its head as time went on, putting him right here, about to press Connor’s doorbell.

One wordless buzz and he’s already rushing up the stairs, ready to get rid of the aggravating anticipation that is making him sweat in the coldest day of the month.

Connor opens his front-door right as he’s mentally preparing himself to knock, beckoning him inside with a tear-stained face instead of greeting.

After he’s sure they’re in complete privacy, he checks Connor over for any physical damage before he can focus on the emotional one, just in case.

“You ok?” he asks like the stupid idiot he is and makes three long steps towards him. An automatic reaction that requires no additional thought.

Connor answers by slumping against his chest, once again making good use out of his shoulder. Luckily, Gavin is strong enough to stabilize their bodies before they tumble to the ground. While he tries to calm his shocked heart down, two warm arms envelop his back, fingers grasping his jacket like it’s the one thing keeping him from crumbling to pieces. At this point, Gavin has lost all hopes of holding himself back, because he finally completes the embrace while painting comforting circles onto the android’s own back. The quiet whir of Connor’s inner machinery is resonating through his body, easing his piled-up anxiety.

He feels the need to say some reassuring phrase just so he can claim he tried his best to fully soothe Connor’s pain, but even breathing is an exceptional achievement for the detective in this hazy moment. So he just closes his eyes and lets himself lose inside his damaged friend’s warmth.

The smell of fresh laundry clinging onto the android lulls him to some transient sense of tranquillity, and he almost lets his hand wander toward the inhumanly soft hair when he realises he is enjoying this too much and gets thrown back into the grim reality in which Connor needs him because he’s sad and lonely and doesn’t know how to handle psychological pain, not for any other reasons.

Then he gets impolitely reminded that the android owns a dog half his size by a damp snout getting too acquainted with his behind. It at least elicits a small chuckle out of Connor and the next second he’s left with an irrational void strangling his insides, begging him to get the pretty heat-source back into his arms.

“Sorry about that.”

He really doesn’t want to see the sad smile again, but he’ll take it over those anguished tears any day.

“It’s still weird. Don’t know if I’m ever gonna get used to it.”

He reaches for Connor’s bare temple, being very careful not to accidentally brush his fingers against it. He can’t afford any more mistakes tonight.

“You don’t like it?”

They are sitting side by side on a surprisingly comfortable sofa, trying their best not to breach the awkward status quo that hangs between them. Small-talk isn’t his favourite thing in the world, but if it’s with Connor, he might even grow to like it. He’s learned much superfluous information about Sumo and all his weird quirks, which he’s exchanged for stories about his late feline friend who had left him a few days before Connor first appeared in the office.

“I do.. it’s just… uncanny.”

“As in you could forget that I’m not a real human being?”

“No-“

“It’s fine.” He turns his head so he can look directly into Gavin’s soul. “Actually, I have a very android-like favour to ask of you.”

Yet again rendered speechless, he just nods, never losing the intense eye-contact.

“Just promise you won’t freak out.”

“I won’t.” He most certainly will.

Connor takes a deep breath, which is nerve-racking enough already.

“I’d like you to register yourself as my legal owner.”

As if on a cue, Gavin’s heart leaps in his throat, making him unable to exclaim his disbelieve.

“Just hear me out before you interpret it in the wrong way.” Like he has any other choice.

“There might come a time when my proc-… when my consciousness gets compromised, and I’ll lose control over what happens with my body… In other words, I might die one day.” Connor must see the horror projected onto his face, because he quickly adds, “I’m not saying I will, it’s just a possibility.”

Well, that has done absolutely nothing to make him feel less unnerved.

“And seeing as I have no relatives, being a machine and all that, it would be the assigned owner who decides my ultimate fate.”

Gavin conjures an expression that is meant to convey understanding, despite having no clue about how he should feel about this sudden request.

“I want it to be you. I want you to have a piece of me left if I-“

“Okay, I’ll do it. Just stop talking about your death like it’s something I’ll ever have to deal with.”

The relief emanating from the whole of Connor alone would be worth agreeing to this insanity, but the fact that the prospect of it all somehow makes him unreasonably happy pushes him over completely.

He just hopes it won’t further complicate their already complex relationship.

@a-convin-new-year

#aconvinnewyear #convin #low-temperature burn #sorry this chapter is such a train-wreck but at least it exists xD #i've been feeling not great lately to say the least #idk if I should take a break or keep going till I'm all caught up :D

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defectivenancydrew · 6 years ago

Text

MID Review (finally)

Now that I’ve had a while to reflect on MID, I feel like I can give an honest, spoiler-free review. This turned out to be a much more in-depth review than I had planned on doing, but you can just read the italics at the end of each section if you just want the gist.

Controls: Okay, so for like the first fifteen minutes (or however long it takes you to adjust), the controls are frustrating. Once you get used to how to move (and it is still point-and-click), you’ll be fine. The only thing that I still didn’t have a solid grasp of by the end of the game was moving Nancy’s head around with the right mouse button--it might have helped to slow the mouse down for this function. That being said, the controls offer a lot to the game. The environments and navigation feel more realistic, and instead of jumping from scene to scene, Nancy slides through the space. It’s weird at first, but it’s ultimately superior. (Just for kicks, I went back and played a bit of LIE as a comparison, and the jumpy movement felt so weird after the smoothness of MID). Controls get a 8/10 for the steep learning curve and the more realistic movement.

Graphics: They’re not that bad, okay? On high render, the environments actually look really good and the characters are decent (low render is an understandably different story). Given the technical reasons behind the graphics looking as the do (full 3D render here versus painstakingly painted video files before), I don’t think that they’re really that bad. Puzzle renders and zoomed-in items/POIs really shine, appearing arguably better than previous games. It’s also important to consider what SCK/STFD look like compared to SEA--MID obviously looks better than SCK/STFD, but it has room for improvement. Just like the development team refined the graphics on their proprietary engine, they will refine the graphics on Unity over time. Again, looking back to the first three games, there is a huge jump in graphics quality between each game, indicating their ability to improve quickly. I’m willing to best that the next game (yes, I believe there will be a ‘next game’) will look much better than MID, and so on from there. Character renders are not as great, but this, too, is likely to improve and is probably also due to the fact that it’s 3D and not a painted video file. Their movements may be awkward, but the fact that they are mo-cap means that they may improve in future games. The only real gripe I have about the characters is the lack of facial expressions. Graphics get a 7/10 for up-close realism and room for improvement.

Performance: If you have a gaming PC or a relatively new device, you should be golden. The game runs smoothly at high render on my 2018/i7/SSD PC, but has some lagging issues at high render on my 2014/i5/HDD PC (issues that all but disappear by adjusting to low render). For those with older PCs or PCs with less processing-power, you may have to deal with way-off lip-syncs and choppy cut scenes if you also want to see the best possible graphics. The game only crashed once on my older PC (and it was more likely due to unrelated background processes I was running), but the autosave feature prevents crashes from being anything more than a brief annoyance. Performance gets a 6/10 for high requirements and the Sophie’s Choice of graphics or speed.

UI: I love the sleek, full-screen appearance and minimalist inventory/phone bar. If I had to ask for any improvements here, I might suggest that the inventory collapse into a bag icon when it’s not in use. UI gets 10/10 for maximizing space and minimizing distractions.

Environment (independent of graphics): HeR definitely stepped up their game (heh) on this front. While there are arguably no more locations to explore than in SEA, the environment is far more expansive and cohesive. You feel like you are in a small town (Salem), and you have the freedom to explore all the relevant places without jumping around or magically transporting. There’s only one location that is distant from the town center, and Nancy travels via car to get back and forth, which adds a dose of realism. We have our usual forest navigation (though it is mercifully straight-forward, unlike DOG or CAP), with the added bonus of looking around and using it to get from one place to another. The game makes good use of each space, though it’d be nice if there was more to do in certain lesser-used locations. Some of the locations really only seemed to be present to flesh out the whole environment--which is fine--but it’d be nice to utilize those locations a bit more. And when graphics are set high, the environments are quite stunning. The lighting and weather also do a good job of reinforcing the current atmosphere in-game. Environment gets a 9/10 for cohesion and light usage.

Characters (independent of graphics, story): This is probably one of the spots where MID won me over. Not only do we have eleven (11!) official characters, we have background characters that make the setting real! I didn’t count, but there were probably 10+ background characters that were present for minor commentary and realistic liveliness. For the first time in a Nancy Drew game, I wasn’t questioning where the rest of the world was. Yes, their movements were awkward and if your computer couldn’t handle the graphics, then their lips were flapping in mysterious ways, but they moved around and interacted with each other in semi-human ways. It is absolutely baffling to me that there are people who think there were too many characters. For one thing, we as fans asked HeR for more characters and that’s what they gave us. For another, the game never felt crowded. There were seven characters that were considered “main” that you interacted with often, three side characters that you interacted with occasionally, and one character that you only interacted with once. If they hadn’t been fully-formed characters with solid backstories, I might be persuaded that the number was an issue, but almost all of the characters were fully- or mostly-developed. Characters gets a 10/10 for quantity and quality.

Puzzles: This is probably the one facet of the game where it is most clear that HeR listened to fans’ requests. We asked for more realistic puzzles that were integrated into the game play and not totally irrelevant. That’s what we got. For some people, I think this made it seem like there were fewer puzzles, but I think there were just as many as before, it just wasn’t always super obvious that you were solving a puzzle (and they all but eliminated chore-type puzzles). The cooking mini game and serving mini game were both fun, nostalgic time-wasters in the best of ways. Another nice thing about the puzzles was that they weren’t super difficult as long as you were paying attention, so there wasn’t any need to google solutions or get frustrated. Puzzles get a 9/10 for fan service and perception (after all, perception is reality).

Story: MID really shines when it comes to the story line. The game delves into the full history of Salem, rightfully choosing to discuss topics that were always skirted in earlier games (prejudice, discrimination, slavery, torture, etc.). My only issue regarding the presentation of history is that a lot of the learning is optional, and can be easily ignored or missed. The actual story line of the game is well-established and doesn’t have any gaping plot holes (at least that I noticed on my first play through). There are multiple crimes to solve, multiple items to recover, and thus multiple endings/outcomes to achieve. I can’t go into too much more detail without spoiling parts of the game, but suffice it to say that the story has depth and gravity that might even place it ahead of previous games. Story gets a 10/10 for more mature themes and multiple, successfully interweaving story lines.

Dialogue: While the content of the dialogue is great and forms the foundation for much of the story, it loses me in presentation. First, the line-by-line captioning system is awkward at best, and a monologue behind at worst. I see no reason not to present the player with sentences or paragraphs at a time as before. Second, dialogue options are not so much options as dialogue tasks. You have questions you can ask, but there is no choice of how to ask them or how to respond to an answer. For the most part, you are just choosing the order in which to ask things. This, in my opinion, is a step backward from the previous games, where Nancy could be optimistic, pessimistic, direct, or passive-aggressive. Lastly, there is a strange lack of subject in Nancy’s sentence structure at times. She says “should do xyz” instead of “I should do xyz,” or “wanted to ask about abc” instead of “I wanted to ask you about abc.” While this isn’t really too weird in the context of modern speech patterns, it is still a little awkward. There are examples of this in previous games when Nancy speaks to herself, but never in dialogue with other characters. Again, this isn’t a big deal, but it crops up enough to make it noticeably strange. Dialogue gets a 6/10 for solid content and poor presentation.

Music: At first, the music seems to be nothing special; the main theme is quiet, unassuming, and a bit repetitive at times. But much like the rest of the game, it gets better as you progress. The music in Luminous Infusions and at the end of the game really stick out as great pieces, although the rest of the tracks are also very well-composed. There is thematic continuity between tracks and the tracks also reflect the game’s current atmosphere well. The music, while from a new composer, is still reminiscent of the old games, particularly the mystical tracks in CUR. I’m hoping HeR releases a soundtrack for MID in the future, but I do know there are no current plans for an official soundtrack (though you can find unofficial ones on YouTube pretty easily). Music gets a 10/10 for quality and cohesion.

Nancy: Nancy finally sounds like the late teen that she is meant to be! Nancy is witty and assertive, no longer speaking with the voice of a thirty-year-old and expressing the thoughts of a thirteen-year-old. The new voice actress is just what Nancy’s voice needed, in my opinion, though I have admittedly been a supporter of replacing Lani since about DED/GTH (don’t get me wrong, I love Lani and she will always be the classic voice of Nancy in my head, but I could also admit that her voice was losing its spark and pep). It takes a little while to get used to the new voice, but once it stops sounding different, it’s easy to fall in love with. Another great aspect of Nancy 2.0 is that she’s willing to get into it with other characters, even if they are in a position of authority. Nancy has always been an assertive character who stands up for what is right, even if it’s not easy to do. We see the return of this kind of Nancy in MID, and I hope we don’t lose her in future games. The only thing that I found a tad bit odd was how sugar-sweet Nancy was toward Deirdre. I like how their relationship was updated in order to model more appropriate/healthy female friendships, but it is a little weird considering the canon interaction model set forth by ASH and DED. Nancy’s other relationships have also matured and improved. Nancy gets a 10/10 for assertiveness and expressiveness.

Physical Copy: Well, almost two weeks after the release date, I finally got my physical copy of MID. This is unprecedented, as I always received physical pre-orders the day of or even the day before release. The long wait drove me to buy the digital download, which I didn’t mind doing, but this could be very frustrating for those not willing to pay for the game twice. I was disappointed to find that the disc art is just a copy of the cover art (which is minimalist at best), and not a characteristic color like the other games. The box art seems like it was put together at the last minute, not unlike the cover art. If it weren’t for my compulsive need to own all of the physical copies, I probably would have skipped it. Physical copy gets a 1/10 for slow delivery and lackluster appearance.

Weird Things to Complain About: Yes, there is one background character whose voice sounds like it was recorded on a Motorola Razr, but she says one sentence that you don’t even have to listen to. Yes, some of the background characters are overt clones, but we’ve never even had background characters to complain about before. Should there have been more to do in the Hathorne House or other one-off locations? Yeah, probably, but we were given a ton of locales to visit. The characters were always bobbing around and breathing, but--surprise!--this is something that real humans do. Did their feet/hands occasionally meld with other objects or the environment? Sure, but why were you looking at their feet during a conversation? Admittedly, Teegan sometimes looked like she was trying to scare off a bear or prepare for flight, even I can’t argue that that wasn’t odd. But for the most part, these are minor, petty issues. There weren’t gaping plot holes, there was actually a mystery to solve (looking at you, MED), and we got a lot of the things that we asked for over the years. There is always room for improvement, and this game is certainly no exception. I expect that the next game will make refinements based on our feedback and be even better. HeR completely changed the Nancy Drew game formula, but they used our input as a guide. They’ll take what we say about MID into consideration with the next game, and hopefully over time we will see the same level of improvement we saw from SCK to SEA. They started from scratch, and even though they had five years to work on it, the first time you try something new is almost always the worst. I don’t condone the way they treated us over the hiatus or how they treated their own staff, but I don’t think it’s time to abandon ship yet. If you play this game with nostalgia goggles on and a closed mind, you’re going to hate it, you’re going to ask for a refund. If you go into it with an open mind and excitement for something new, you might just find that you like MID more than you’d care to admit. Weird things to complain about gets an 8/10 for minor oddities that should be expected in a pilot endeavor.

Conclusion: Change is inevitable. If you were around when TMB came out, you might remember the absolute uproar that came with the UI change. People threatened to walk away from the series because of the new menu screen and bulkier interface. If you’ve played the original SCK and STFD, then you know how drastically the games improved over the span of a single year. And compare those games to SEA and it’s clear that the games are always improving. But you have to start (or in this case, restart) somewhere, and MID is our new starting point. The games will get better, and we’ll still find things to complain about (like we always do), because there is always room for improvement. There’s no point in lamenting about how good the game would have looked on the old engine, because that misses the point. The old engine could not deliver what we as fans desired. It could not handle more than six characters or more than eight hours (this is being generous) of game play. It couldn’t give us more expansive environments or smoother navigation. The new engine gave us all of these things, but sacrificed a bit of graphics. Big whoop. I’m willing to bet that none of us got into the games for their graphics, especially those of use who became fans early on in the games’ history. Bottom line? HeR gave us a good game. Not their best game, maybe not even one of their better games, but it’s certainly better than MED or SCKR. And hey, at least we finally got the game. Midnight in Salem gets an 80%, an admirable B-, because the effort and progress is there, but there are definitely things that they could have done better.

#nancy drew #clue crew #midnight in salem #mid #review #open to feedback #wow this was way longer than i intended it to be

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randomoranges · 5 years ago

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drag meeting au part 44

wow, it’s over.

Epilogue

Time turned out to be kind to both Edward and Étienne.

It took Edward a good month before he invited Étienne to see a show. Not because he didn’t want to, but part of him still feared that Étienne had a bigger connection with Kate than with him and so he wanted to make sure he and Étienne could properly connect. He needn’t have feared yet again, for dating Étienne as himself proved to be a nearly seamless transition and Étienne really did seem to go with whatever flight of fancy he was on.

On that very first show Étienne attended, he dressed up as though he was going to the Opera House and even brought flowers. It was the first time he was seeing Kate since the whole reveal debacle and Kate had been a little nervous, but once again, Étienne had been very supportive and he’d been immensely pleased to see her again.

From that point on, two things happened; Étienne made it a point to never miss another show ever again (something he managed to do, even years later, with a few exceptions) and Kate started making a reappearance every so often. Étienne was always pleased, regardless if it was Edward or Kate he was spending time with and it helped Edward really realise that Étienne was truly okay with all of this.

As promised, Étienne did get around to asking his parents if he could use their cabin for a weekend and so, sometime in the dead of February, he and Edward drove up to it and had a lovely time together. Edward forced Étienne to bundle up and go out for walks and at night, they got to curl up by the fireside and spend some time together.

It was during one of those evenings when Edward told Étienne that he loved him. It had taken Étienne by surprise and he had fallen very quiet at that. Edward feared that he’d once more gone too far, but instead he’d been surprised when Étienne had pulled him in for a tight hug and had quietly fallen apart in his arms. Edward reassured him that he didn’t expect the words back – that he knew Étienne cared for him and that there was more to a relationship than exchanging words. He’d told Étienne because he wanted him to know and that was that.

Still, Étienne had been immensely pleased and surprised to hear them and he catalogued every time Edward told him he loved him in his mind. The words were like a balm on his soul that held him close in its warm embrace and he cherished each and every utterance. It would be the thick of summer when Étienne would say them back as they waited in line to get ice cream and Edward would have valiantly gone out with him on what would turn out to be the hottest day of the year.

Étienne had eventually gotten around to letting Emma know that no, Kate was not stringing him along, and that actually, Kate also went by Edward. Emma hadn’t taken to Edward right away, had still been convinced that he was up to shady business, but after seeing that Étienne was genuinely happy and after spending a bit of time with Edward, she came to accept him as an unfortunate add on that came with her friend. (And it had taken a while for Edward to realise that by that Emma meant that she didn’t hate him, but that he’d better watch his step. Or else.)

Luckily for Edward, Étienne’s family was thrilled to meet him and absolutely adored him, especially Mme Maisonneuve who was warm and sweet and reminded Edward a lot of Étienne in some ways. It would take another year before Edward would meet Étienne’s two older brothers, their significant others and children. Élyse, on the other hand, only threatened him once, before declaring him to be cool. Edward had no idea how it was that Étienne had managed to surround himself with women who seemed to be dead set on ending his life if he so much as looked at Étienne the wrong way, but at least he knew his boyfriend had people who genuinely cared for his well being.

Towards the end of the summer, Edward took some time off to go back home and invited Étienne along with him. Étienne had been a hot mess of nerves from the moment Edward had brought up the idea of the trip to the moment he was formally introduced to Edward’s parents and it was almost comical how he passed out cold that night after surviving the meet and greet. But Étienne managed to be his charming self and Edward’s parents were happy that he was happy – it was all they wanted for their children. As for Edith, she had little to say about Étienne and simply shrugged. However, the following morning, Étienne had found a cryptic message on his phone saying “I have ways to find out where you live. Watch your back.” Edward did his best to reassure his boyfriend that his sister wasn’t actually a psychopath, but Étienne never seemed fully convinced.

They met each other’s friends and coworkers as well. Edward invited Étienne to an official work social late in April and Étienne brought Edward, and later on Kate, to come at the center. Even though there were spheres of their lives that remained solely theirs (Étienne absolutely detested skiing, Edward could never really get into painting,) there were other parts they learned to appreciate, (Étienne made a rather good kitchen helper, so long as he didn’t handle the stove or frying pan, Edward enjoyed following Étienne along to the opening of a new niche art gallery or jazz performance.)

It took another year before they started thinking of maybe moving in together, and it was only over the second summer, while Étienne was away doing an art residency that Edward decided to put a plan of his into action. He got an entire bedroom on the first floor of his place remodeled and changed into a studio and when he brought Étienne home and surprised him with it, Étienne was rendered completely and utterly speechless, which was a feat in itself.

Étienne was completely moved in within the month.

It wasn’t always a walk in the park, but they worked at their relationship every day and chose to make it better and get through the hurdles of life. There were ups and there were downs, but at the end of the day, they had each other.

Slowly, with time, they built a life around each other, together, and made plans for the future as well. And so, on a crisp autumn day, when the leaves had reached their final burst of vivid colours, a few years further down the line, Étienne proposed to Edward with a double band ring he designed himself. He babbled on and explained that the bands represented Edward’s sides – that he loved him as he was – Kate included. Edward had said yes, naturally, and had marvelled at how Étienne had beat him to it, when he’d been carrying a ring around for over a year that he wanted to give to Étienne.

The ceremony came after that, sometime later, towards the end of summer as autumn re-settled in. A quiet affair with their friends and family. A celebration for themselves, really.

There would be time later for other big projects – for late night discussions about adoption of both types and whether or not they should move, but for now, what was important to them, was to enjoy the present moment and make the best of it together.

FIN

PREVIOUS: XLIII CURRENT: XLIV

#pc: montreal #pc: edmonton #edward murphy #étienne maisonneuve #au #ficlet #3 sentence fic meme thing #drag meeting au

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jacksonxschuester · 5 years ago

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I Owe You a Painting || Jacksher

Date: September 20th, 2020 Who: Jackson and Asher @asherkarofsky Description: Jackson delivers the painting he did for Asher, as a thank you for the easel Asher made for Jackson, which was a thank you for... you get the point. Jackson then helps Asher make his suite feel a little more like home Note: Not finished, but it’s cute and I want it on the dash.

Jackson had actually finished the painting a few days ago, but he'd gotten ambitious and decided to try oil paints for this piece, and he'd wanted to give it lots of time to dry before delivering it. Taking inspiration from some Bob Ross episodes, he'd created a sweeping prairie landscape with a duck pond and a farm house. There were a few trees and bushes and flowers, but plenty of open blue sky and a worn, homely feel to the house. He'd painted it on a 18" x 24" canvas and had signed his name in the bottom corner. Overall, he was pretty proud of how it turned out, but he was still a little nervous about Asher's reaction to it as he stood outside the Dom's door and knocked. He hoped it would be well recieved.

Everyone had told him he would settle in and get more things and that the giant suite wouldn't feel so giant anymore. That had not happened yet. Mostly he ate in the cafeteria and spent any time out of classes in bed sleeping. Today he'd decided to do some whittling in his suite since the workshop didn't have the light he needed. There were small curls of wood on the kitchen bar where he was working. He'd just put the small creature on the bar top to look at when there was a knock on the door. He opened it wondering who would be coming to see him. He was happy to see that it was Jackson. He just didn't know what to say. "Hi." He even waved before feeling awkward and letting his hand drop. "Oh... oh come in."

Jackson forced a smile onto his face when he saw Asher. "Hi." He greeted, and stepped in when he was invited. He stood awkwardly for a moment, and then remembered the reason for his visit. "I um... I finished it." He said, turning the painting around in his hands for Asher to see. "It's my first attempt with oil paintings, so it's not perfect, but I hope you like it and even if you don't it's okay because I can always try to do a better one..." He rambled.

Asher hadn't expected to get the painting yet. Surely Jackson had so much other more important things than him, but here it was right in front of him. He didn't know what he'd been expecting, but the painting was perfect. "It... it's perfect. It's exactly like the place I dream of having some day. Like that's exactly it." He reached out for the painting but hesitated. "Can I... Is it okay to hold it?"

Jackson's expression shifted into a softer, more genuine smile as Asher took in the painting. He was relieved that the Dom seemed to like it. "Yeah, it's totally dry, you can hold it." He assured. "You really do like it?" He asked, seeking confirmation and reassurance.

"Like it? No. I love it." He carefully took the painting in his hands walking closer to the large living room window to see it in the light. "How did you know this was exactly what I saw in my head? I have this dream... kind of dumb I know, but I'd love to own a place like this someday. A place to call my own, you know?"

"I didn't know." Jackson shrugged. "I just ran with the idea you gave me and this is what came out. It does look like a nice place to live though. Peaceful..." His smile turned sad as he realized he'd never even given any thought to the type of house he'd like to have someday. Not since Steven had passed, anyway. "I hope you get to have a place like this in the future, Sir."

"Yeah peaceful." He turned to the other man. "I hope so. Gotta be careful with dreams though." He hated that he couldn't just be one of those hopeful, optimistic people. He blames his parents for ruining that for him. "Will you help me figure out the best place to hang it." He looked around at the suite. It was very.... white. The painting would start to make this place feel a little like home.

Jackson nodded, "Of course I'll help." He said, glossing right over the bit about being careful with dreams. He'd given up having any sort of dream himself. He didn't want to bring Asher down by talking about that. "What about that wall there?" He pointed to one of the walls in the living room. It was opposite the couch, so that you could see it if you were sitting there, and the shape and size of the canvas was very appropriate to the size of wall it was

He nodded. He realized instantly that if he was on the couch he'd be able to see it and also it there it would be visible as soon as he walked in the door. "Here hold it. I'll get my tools." He went to the kitchen bar, but stopped and turned back to look at Jackson. "Thank you. Thank you for this." He grabbed his tools and walked back over. Gesturing around the suite, he laughed. "As you can see I'm not so good at, decorating. Personalizing." That was the better word. He didn't need 'decorating' but he did sort of crave personalization in his life.

Jackson waited patiently while Asher grabbed his tools, and upon observation he found that Asher's statement was accurate. There weren't a lot of personal touches around the place, except for the pile of wood shavings and some sort of carving on the counter. Jackson assumed that's what he'd been working on when he arrived, but now that he knew the wood shavings were there he was itching to sweep them up and put them out of sight. "I could help you with that, if you like?" He offered suddenly, unsure of exactly way. Maybe he just needed to feel like he was useful, needed by someone.

Ash was pulling out his small hammer and some finishing nails that should do the job to hold up the painting when Jackson spoke again. "Hmm? Oh.. oh really? You'd do that?" He looked around again. "Don't even know where to start." He shrugged and kept his gaze down on the hammer in his hands that he was spinning around. "Used to have a little picture of me an' Silas and Dave as kids, but I lost it." It had been the only thing he'd had to remind him of his family. And losing it was the very last time he ever cried.

Jackson nodded. "Yeah, I don't mind." He said. "Is there a way to find a copy of that picture, maybe? Would Silas or Dave have a copy?" He asked, already planning on asking Silas for any photos of Asher as a kid to frame. "We could also paint the walls to whatever colours you like, and add things related to stuff you like." He motioned over to the carving on the counter. "Do you do a lot of that sort of thing? You could display your work on your bookshelves and such.

"Don't know. Maybe Dave. Si kind of left in a hurry. Don't think our folks let him bring much when he came here." He frowned. "They won't mind me paintin'?" He been worried about the holes he was about to put in the wall and already had a plan on how he'd repair those when the time came. He laughed and smiled at Jackson. "Don't if they're as good as all that, but might be nice to look at 'em." He looked over at the creature on the bar. He found a lot of happiness in making them even as silly as they were.

Jackson made a note to check with Dave, also. Just in case. "They don't mind paint and things like hanging pictures or hooks or decor, they just don't want anyone doing extensive damage that'll cost a lot to repair or render the suite unusable for any period of time." He informed, remembering one incident when he was a teenager that his father got very heated about. "One time a student knocked out a couple of walls to combine all the bedrooms together. My father was not pleased. That was way before I came here, though." Curious, Jackson made his way over to the counter. "Give yourself a little credit, not everyone can carve things out of wood like this. I'm sure they're..." He trailed off when he saw what the little creature was. A tiny bird sat on the countertop near the pile of shavings, and Jackson felt his heart jump into his throat. "... great." He finished his sentence, carefully picking up the carving and examining it closer. The word pajarito played over and over in his head in Mateo's voice, 'little bird' it meant. The tears were stinging at his eyes despite his valiant effort to make them stop.

Asher's eyes went wide. Knocking down the walls was a huge undertaking and could actually be downright dangerous. Generally with a large building like this the load bearing walls were all around the outside, but still. "I don't even use the space I have. Can't imagine needing more. "They aren't too hard. Learned when I was a boy. They do..." He noticed that Jackson had stopped talking and that he had tears in his eyes. "Sugar, are you okay?" He dipped his head to get in between the other man and the small wooden bird taking shape out of the wood.

Jackson took in a shuddering breath and tried very hard to steady his emotions. "Fine. I'm fine." He insisted, despite it not being true in the slightest. "It's nothing. It's a stupid thing, actually." He rambled. "Little bird is the nickname Sir Mateo gave me, that's all." He said, knowing Asher would want an explanation, but Jackson felt really stupid for such a small thing affecting him this much. Sometimes it hit him like a sack of bricks, the magnitude of losing yet another Dom, and in those moments Jackson found it really hard to breathe.

Asher didn't hesitate for a moment. He snatched the bird off the counter and shoved it in his pocket. "It's not stupid." He obviously had no idea of this reaction when he decided to carve a bird, but he hated that it had caused him to remember this pain. "I'm sorry."

Jackson shook his head. "It is stupid. And it's not your fault." He insisted, and then his hands where against his arms, fingernails digging into his skin. He hated how fragile he was. He took a few steps away and took a breath, "I'm sorry..."

Asher didn't want to argue but he didn't think it was stupid at all. He'd never been in love before and he couldn't image having it and losing it. That whole 'better to have and lost' seemed like bullshit to him. He stayed quiet for a while and then spoke in a quiet voice. "Wanna get this painting up and then help me pick out my next carving should be?"

Jackson could feel his skin start to break under his fingernails, and the sharp pain brought him a brief moment of respite from the mental pain. He heard Asher speak and for a moment, he wasn't sure what the Dom had said. He turned, wiping at his eyes. "Maybe I should just go?" He asked, not wanting to further bring Asher's mood down.

Ash saw the way Jackson's body was stiff Nd he was scratching roughly at his arm. It must have hurt the way he was pressing in. "I really like having you here, but don't wanna make you stay if you're feelin' uncomfortable." He rubbed at the back of his neck. "Can I walk you home? Make sure you're safe."

Safe. The word rung hollow in Jackson's ears. Sure, he might be away from any immediate harm, but safe? Could he really count himself as safe until he was claimed? Mateo had promised him safety... he had promised to do whatever it took to include Jackson in his family, but when the time came it turned out there was a line he wouldn't even consider crossing. Jackson realized it had been a minute or two since Asher had spoken, and he still hadn't replied. "Um... I... I'll stay if you want. You needed help, right? I can help. I can be useful." The words were mostly spilling from his mouth as they came into his head, no filter in between to remind him what was socially appropriate and what was not.

Ash wished he was his brother in this moment. Silas would have the words to comfort Jackson. But he just waited. "You've been so damn helpful to me Jackson. I gotta tell you, don't really got friends." He shrugged. "You're probably not supposed to decide this one sided, but you're my best friend Jackson. Don't know what I woulda done here without you. So yeah, if you want to stay, I could use your help." He didn't know if that meant Jackson was useful, but it damn well did mean he was needed. Asher really needed him.

Jackson felt himself tear up again. Asher considered him his best friend? It felt good, but it also made him feel a little guilty. Should he be putting more into this friendship than he has been? Asher really must not have had many friends if he considered Jackson to be the best one... He wiped at his eyes again and just nodded. "Okay... I'll stay." He said softly. "Tell me what you need me to do, Sir."

Ash smiled. He felt like he'd maybe unwittingly manipulated Jackson to stay, but it was hard to muster any guilt over that. For whatever reason, he just felt like his friend belonged right there for the time being. The suite felt like something more than a place to rest from time to time when he was there. "Let me just tap a nail in here." He did just that and then hung the painting up before looking over at Jackson. "So is it straight?"

Jackson just watched as Asher hammered in the nail and hung the painting. He let out what could only be described as a half chuckle/half sniffle. "It's about as straight as I am." He informed, which was to say, not at all. "Needs to go a little to the left."

Ash let out a snort. The years away from his parents and their church as well as the same years spent working side by side with all sorts of people had freed him from most of his prejudices. The ones that remained only seemed to direct inside toward himself. He liked that the chuckle sounded even if there was a bit of a sniffle with it. It hinted at what a joyful sound he would make if he was truly happy. He tilted it to the left. "How's that?"

Jackson gave a thumb's up as he used the other hand to wipe his eyes. "Much better." He said. "Probably as good as you'll get it without using a level, anyway." He added.

"I'll probably order a better hanger. 'Fraid the nail will damage it long run. I'll get some wire and do it up right. Then I'll use a level." He stepped back and stood next to Jackson. "Ain't that beautiful. Best thing I've ever owned." He looked over to his friend. "So I got a bunch of these little wooden critters. But some's better than others. Help me pick some for the shelves?" He raised a questioning eyebrow. "Then I got some of that casserole you made me. We could share some if you want. Maybe watch somethin' on the tv?"

It warmed Jackson's heart that Asher loved the painting enough to think about things like whether or not the method of hanging would damage it. He had to admit, he liked the way it looked in this room. It was just a touch homier now, and soon Jackson hoped to make this place feel like a home to Asher. He got the sense that Asher didn't feel at home here yet, and that made him sad. "Sure, let's look at them." He said, "That all sounds good, Sir." He offered a smile. It was small, only lasting a second or two, but it was genuine.

"Hang on. Be right back." He had realized at the last moment that his room was in no state for Jackson to see it. Usually he was quite neat. After all it was easy to be neat when you didn't have a lot of things. But that morning he had been in a hurry to get to class and he knew for a fact there was a pair of underwear right there in the middle of the floor. He scooped them up and tossed them in the hamper on his way to grab his duffel bag. The little wooden figures rattled around inside. Once back he sat on the couch and unzipped the bag. And started to pull the little creatures and set them out one next to the other. "I know they're kinda silly."

Jackson sat on the couch while he waited, trying to calm his mind and heart. His fingernails naturally found their way to his skin again, using the sharp little pains as a distraction tool until he felt less like bursting into tears at any moment and more focused on his actual surroundings. When Asher returned, he tugged a sleeve over his arm to hide a particularly bad spot. As the little wooden figures made their appearance, Jackson's eyes widened. "They're not silly at all, Sir." he assured, "They're amazing..." He reached out for one, gently lifting it to get a closer look. "Is this... Vulpix? Like from Pokemon?" He asked.

Asher wasn't the type to blush and he didn't quite blush now, but he looked a lot more like an a shy boy then he ever did. "Oh... umm, yeah. Used to love Pokemon when I was little." He still loved it clearly, but it felt safer to couch it in terms of a childhood thing. "The folks decided Pokemon were demons and wouldn't let us watch." He shrugged. "Guess just feels good to defy 'em."

Jackson smiled, picturing a young Asher and Silas sneaking over to a friend's house to watch Pokemon after school. "I used to love Pokemon too. Still do, sorta. Guess I'm not as into it as I once was, though." He admitted. "These are really cute though." He said, looking over the rest of the figures. "I think you should display them all, honestly."

"I should give the Pokemon one's to Si. He loves all that stuff." He picked up the bundled up little koala bear and handed it to Jackson. "Okay. I'll put 'em on the shelf. Better than bangin' around in my bag huh? But umm... would you take this one?" It was like how he felt Jackson should be... bundled up and protected.

Jackson carefully took the little bear, smiling at it. "Are you sure?" He asked, already kind of in love with the little figurine. He wasn't particularly attached to bears or anything, but he adored the way this one was all cozied up, and the fact that Asher had made it made it all the more special.

"Positive. It'll make me happy and proud knowin' you got him." He smiled and nodded. "So which do you think you'd like doin' more..." He had taken some time to research OCD and there was this thing he read about how control over tasks was super important. "figuring out how they should look on the shelf or heatin' up the food? Or we could to 'em both together."

Jackson nodded. "I'll keep him safe, Sir. I promise." He said, and then at being given the option, Jackson blinked. He wasn't used to that. Normally, Doms would just give him an order and he'd happily follow it, feeling happy to at least be useful. "Um.. I could put these up on the shelf, Sir." He said, knowing he'd get an immense amount of satisfaction from deciding how to arrange them in the most aesthetically pleasing way.

"Cool." He chuckled. "Was hoping you'd say that. Don't know where to start with that kinda thing." He figured that because the food was prepared by Jackson, he would feel comfortable eating it. He went to the kitchen and started to pull out the food and then suddenly had a thought. He left the food in the fridge and pulled out a bottle of cleaner and gave the counters and microwave a good once over, even though they were already clean to his eyes. He scooped the wood shavings and put them in the garbage before finally starting to reheat the casserole. He would occasionally look out over the kitchen bar to where Jackson was working. The suite felt like so much more than just a place in that moment.

Jackson immediately set to work, teaking hte figures and spacing them out along the shelves. He decided it would be best to have them throughout the whole room, it would help unify it a little, as well as give the whole room a personal touch rather than just one section. He kept like figures together, like the ones wrapped up in little wooden blankets like his koala were together. And the pokemon ones, while he was sure some were destined to go to Silas, he put on display for now as well. Sea creatures had their own shelf while terrestial creatures were on another. He couldn't resist, however, putting an owl next to a little wolf. He debated whether he should ask Asher for the little bird, and put it with them so they could all at least be together in one form, but somehow it felt wrong. He had taken notice of how Asher had cleaned his kitchen and microwave before starting, and he felt a flutter of fond appreciation grow in his chest for the man. He was taking a lot of extra steps, clearly for Jackson's benefit, and it made him feel really welcomed and important. He hadn't felt like that in a while.

He hadn't once eaten at the actual table, choosing instead the bar on the occasions when Jackson has brought him one of his always delicious meals. It feels appropriate to have his first meal in the place with Jackson. Once the casserole was hot enough he looked for something to go with it. The cupboards were pretty much bare, but he did find some bottled waters. He went through the cleaning process for the table and then set out two plates, the casserole with a serving spoon, and the bottled waters before making his way over to the living room. "Wow." He looked around and it honestly seemed like a different place. "Looks like someone actually lives here."(edited)

Jackson had just taken a step back to examine his work, and like always, he was finding tiny little flaws and details and was now making micro-adjustments to the configuration of a few of the figures when Asher came back into the room. Despite it not being perfect yet, the fact that Asher seemed to like what was going on so far made Jackson relax just a tiny bit. Maybe he didn't need to adjust everything to perfection today. He did finish with the figures he was working with though, before he stepped back. His eyes caught the little wolf with the little owl again, and he had to force himself to turn away. When was it going to stop hurting so much, he wondered? Every little thing seemed to remind him of what he'd lost, and distractions only lasted a few moments before he was reminded yet again. "You like it?" He asked Asher, not fishing for compliments, but rather fishing for another distraction. Anything, really, to keep his mind from spiralling any further.

"I really do. Feels like a home." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Never really looked at my stuff all at once. They're not too bad huh?" The little critters had been his secret friends, but he'd never really 'looked' at them. "Thanks. Wouldn'tna done it myself." He rubbed his neck again. "Got food ready. Wanna eat."

Jackson nodded in agreement. "They're amazing, Sir." He assured. They really brighten up the place." He stated, and as he looked over at the table he was endeared by how Asher had even set the table and everything. "Yeah, let's eat." He agreed, making his way over to the table to sit.

Asher hurried over to pull out a chair for his guest. He suddenly felt like this place was more than just four walls. It was his home. A home that Jackson had helped him build. It all started with that painting. As he pulled out his own chair and sat he looked over at the painting and smiled. "This is the first time I had someone over for dinner." He didn't mean just here at Lima. He'd lived a solitary life since leaving home. Sure he'd go to a bar with co-workers or grab some food off the roach coach with them, but sharing a meal in his own home? This was a first. And he liked it. "So... umm.... how's classes going?" Alright so he needed to work on his small talk.

Jackson sat down and offered an awkward smile in thanks for Asher pulling the chair out for him. The switch picked up his fork and began to slowly separate the components of his food. It wasn't something he did all the time, but it was a habit that carried over from his childhood. If he wasn't feeling particularly hungry, he would take his time sorting his food, and eat by making sure he had a little bit of everything in each bite. It took way longer, but often his mind was so engaged in it he'd be able to get a good portion of it down before he had to stop. "Classes are... well, I don't think I'm failing, at the very least." He finished, realizing he was behind on at least two assignments already and there was some reading he had to do for a different class.

Ash watched as Jackson picked apart the casserole organizing all of the ingredients. He knew it wasn't because the food was bad. One, because it was delicious and more importantly because he made it. If Asher had made it he'd be worried. He figured it was something else... probably still feeling the pain about this guy he'd broken up with. He at casserole while listening. "I was never very good in school and it's been years now. Just weird getting used to homework. Homework! I'm too old for homework." He exaggerated hoping he could maybe bring a smile to his friend's face.

#asher #para

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battle-of-alberta · 5 years ago

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BoAB Meta Essay 1: 5 W’s

Hello and welcome to this strange and silly yet semi-serious project of mine. Battle of Alberta is a Hetalia-inspired comic and ask blog following the adventures and mishaps of rival Canadian cities Edmonton and Calgary. I started this blog in 2018, though I first created the characters a decade ago in 2010 as fan characters for the I Am Matthewian Project. This little illustrated essay is just an introduction to me, my orientation towards this project, and why the heckaroonie I’m doing this.

Who: About the Author

My name is Hapo. As I’m writing this, I’m a graduate student at the University of Toronto and hope to have that wrapped up in the spring of 2020. Though I’ve been dragged around the continent for one reason or another (usually the result of a gravitational pull of a university town), I consider Edmonton to be my hometown and fully acknowledge and relish in the resulting bias I was raised with. I am a 3rd or 5th generation Albertan depending on how you count it and a settler on Treaty 6 territory. My educational background is in Classics, Ancient Societies and Cultures, Linguistics, Archives, and Museum Studies; my academic interests kind of revolve around the construction of culture and memory. I also tend to enjoy challenging stereotypes and misconceptions and disturbing ideas about seemingly hierarchical top-down, center-periphery relationships. Most of all, I love drawing satirical comics of varying degrees of silliness and sharing them with people. I currently use a Wacom tablet and Clip Studio Paint for my comics.

What: Writing About Cities

I chose to focus on cities because it’s the kind of granularity I like to write about; I find writing from a national perspective too broad and difficult to rationalize from my own experience and while I’ve written from the provincial level in the past, I most enjoy the level of nuance and every day information that comes from living in and studying cities. My other comic, @athensandspartaadventures, kicked off my love of writing city-states, and my travels to other Canadian cities over the course of my post-secondary studies fueled my desire to learn more about municipal histories.

Listening to the news, joining protests, and navigating my way through adulthood pushed me to learn how to participate politically on a local level as well. The 10th Annual Hurtig Lecture at the University of Alberta featuring mayors Don Iveson and Naheed Nenshi on the future of cities is an event I feel shaped my attitude towards cities in general, but it also encouraged me to look at the cities I knew with a different, optimistic perspective. I want to inspire readers to understand their own municipalities as complicated, messy, and in need of love and support from the inside.

When: Then and Now

While I wouldn’t define myself as a historian per se, I tend to look at many things through a historical lens. The history is an integral part of the story that shapes these characters, and while I don’t mean to use history to justify one narrative over others, I do have to make some decisions and choices about the stories that I tell and the characters I am building for consistency’s sake.

What sets interpretations of personifications apart is the author’s own experience, and at the end of the day it’s my interpretations, gut reactions, and personal experience that colour my work and my view of history. I recognize that I have my own biases and ways of thinking that are rooted in my view of the world as it is today, and I also recognize that those understandings can change. This blog is less a chronicle of one monolithic view of history and more a chronicle of my own perspective and growth.

During this project, I won’t be shying away from certain historical periods and certainly not modern politics. That said, I also will not be answering asks that are deliberately politically or historically insensitive, nor will I be going out of my way to render explicit periods of great pain or violence. My own discretion is not perfect, but I will be using it as I see fit and trying my best to be responsive about it.

Where: Oil Country

Gavin Crawford probably says it best in his Wild West miniseries satirizing a wide cast of provincial stereotypes: “What do I like best about Alberta? It’s where I live.” My family settled in Alberta before it was a province and while I was not born there originally, it is where I would always leave from and come home to, it was where I went to school and kept all my things, it was where I formed my fond childhood memories and my political attitudes as an adult, and whether I was living in sub-rural or suburban Alberta or across the continent from it, it was always Where I Lived and Where I Would Go if I could click my heels three times.

I was born in the economic fall out after the NEP reinforced divisions with the rest of the country. I was in grade school while Klein was handing out prosperity bonuses at the height of the boom when we still couldn’t afford textbooks from after the fall of the Soviet Union let alone teacher’s salaries. I didn’t really understand the ire we drew from the rest of the country and the world until I joined the I Am Matthewian Project in high school, and suddenly I had to make a lot of decisions about my own political identity I hadn’t previously considered.

I understand what it’s like to live in a (tongue-in-cheek) ‘petro-archy' and the culture shock of stepping outside it. I know how it is to feel constantly under siege by the rest of the world to the point that all rhetoric is reduced to calling out hypocrisy while refusing to analyze yourself. I have felt inexplicable rage boil up when hearing jokes or perceptions of my backyard from people in central Canada or other countries, and then having nothing to fall back on when being accused of having no history or culture. Most of all, I get what it’s like to be bombarded with all this stuff as a teenager and as a young adult, and I get how difficult it can be to navigate when you’re constantly and almost exclusively met with “everybody hates Alberta”. My province is dumb, it should be criticized, but I also love it fiercely and I dare everyone, Albertan or otherwise, to start to imagine it better.

Why: Battling it Out

We’ve been through why I am writing about cities, why I’m looking through a historical lens, and why I am a little obsessed with the problematic image of my home province. I think the final question is: why frame it with the Battle? The Battle of Alberta is an age-old rivalry that transcends the sporting events it is commonly associated with, as I touch on in Chapter 1. It’s the source of a lot of amusement for me when reading headlines and listening to petty jabs whether on the radio or in restaurants. It’s something that dies down with each new generation only to flare up again over some issue or another.

Most of all though, I like to think of it as the start and the end of a healthy relationship, a competitive spirit that makes us strive to be better than each other and better than ourselves. It’s the thesis statement of this project and the wish I have for the future. I don’t mind whether you want to read it as petty or serious, as platonic or romantic, but it’s enduring, it’s constant, and I believe at the end of the day it can be used for good.

That’s all from me for now, I look forward to your questions and comments as well as to writing more meta stuff like this!

Hapo

#aph oc #aph ask blog #aph calgary #aph edmonton #hetalia oc #projectcanada cities #pc: edmonton #pc: calgary #edward murphy #calvin mccall #hapo art #boab meta #boab extras #digital art #clip studio paint

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dexter-wells-beiste · 5 years ago

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I Owe You a Painting || Jacksher

Who - @jacksonxschuester and @asherkarofsky Where - Asher’s suite When - A quite weeknight What - Jackson delivers the painting he promised to paint for Asher. He helps make the empty suite into more of a home.

Jackson gave a thumb's up as he used the other hand to wipe his eyes. "Much better." He said. "Probably as good as you'll get it without using a level, anyway." He added.

#about jackson #about asher #[as you wish]#[record scratch... freeze frame... you might be wondering how i got here]

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enyas-sojourn · 5 years ago

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A Capture on Genesian Road

(07/05/20 10:51) ~ Warrior Of The North ~ Bejar Bjorntand Master Tharlarion Rider ~ ~ Hraesvelgr ~ ~ says to ALL: Enters ... (07/05/20 10:52 am) Absolute Obedience Enya -=Genesian Road=- Is traveling along the Genesian Road connecting Brundisium and other coastal cities with the south says to ALL: I am forever amazed, and rendered speechless which in and of itself is a bargain for anybody who really knows me. But, alas!!! There aren't very many who can honestly say that. Not that I'm a difficult slave. Nor am I the type of slave that balks because I do not like the kiss of the whip upon the flesh of this back. It stings and though the welts are visible for days, those same welts create when itchy fabric comes into contact with it. I've had my share and I do my best to avoid being whipped. Or cuffed upside the head. Then again, the majority of the whippings were purely educational purposes only. When a slave does something wrong, punishment soon follows and the type of punishment is at the sole discretion of a slave's owner. Personal or City owned or even if the slave is being put through her paces at a Slaver's House. Indeed... sometimes lessons need to be learned the hard way. These lessons aren't always as difficult as they are challenging. I've always enjoyed challenges and look at them as pieces of a puzzle that just has to be solved. (07/05/20 11:04 am) Absolute Obedience Enya -=Genesian Road=- Is traveling along the Genesian Road connecting Brundisium and other coastal cities with the south says to ALL: These proclamations are, of course, based on my own experiences. There are a few scars that stripe my back and are quite visible when you know what you're looking for. Whip me once, shame on me, but whip me twice for the same thing then it's ALL on me. It usually is regardless, but the point is, is that slavery isn't for everybody. That pitiful creature that kept whining about what to do now? I don't see her as slave material. But, what do I know? I don't have an eye for slave flesh. Except my own and I will do whatever I can to ensure that my flesh remains intact unless told otherwise. I've always been owned by an Inn or a Tavern. Once I was even part of a Camp. That didn't last very long and within 4 hand I had been sold. Back to the beginning some would have told me. But it's not going back to the beginning at all. My future owner just hasn't discovered me. Yet. (07/05/20 11:12 am) ~ Warrior Of The North ~ Bejar Bjorntand Master Tharlarion Rider ~ ~ Hraesvelgr ~ ~ -=Genesian Road=- Is traveling along the Genesian Road connecting Brundisium and other coastal cities with the south says to Absolute ObedienceEnya: grunts (07/05/20 11:20 am) ~ Warrior Of The North ~ Bejar Bjorntand Master Tharlarion Rider ~ ~ Hraesvelgr ~ ~ -=Genesian Road=- Is traveling along the Genesian Road connecting Brundisium and other coastal cities with the south says to Absolute Obedience Enya: The medium sized tarnship had made landfall to a small port middway between Brundisium and Bazi. I had some bussines inland and thusly had brought my high tharlarion with me as it was mutch faster then walking. While the crew would resply fresh water and suplies i had made the short tripp inland to meet an old friend of mine that had agreeded to serve as a "mail office" between myself and my oldest son that was the commander of a unite of mercenarys. After some proper man hugs- and some paga letters were exhanged and i was on my way back for my ship. Taking a shorter route over some knolls rather then following the small dirt road out to the main coastal road i would halt on my vantage point as a spotted a small caravan. I was some 400 yards away so might not be noticed from the road unless someone were on alert and scanned the knols and surrounding terrain. I had not been on the hunt but i was a man of Gor and more so a Torvaldslander. hmmm......i would squint...then grunt and pull out my builders glass to get a good look of the small caravan moving on the road down below. And should anyone down there have a buildersglas and spy back on me they would see a man and beast that looked something like this I was mounted atop of my high tharlarion Scar, the reins held with calm to the left hand*1*. My frame was that off 6´4. 230lbs. I was dressed in a leather tunic with a raven sewn into the chest peace over the heart. A leather cloak with the hood up tho with the helmet under it the hood held a somewhat triangular shape. Dark brown leathers and my feet and legs covered by high tharlarion rider boots. A northern helmet, with chainmail covering the neck and with the nose guard in the down position covered my head*2*.A 7 foot spear to my right hand held aprox mid haft with the tip skyward.*3* And a 3 foot round wooden center gripped Torvaldslands shield reenforced with steel band and a center steel boss held was held to my back with a thick leather strapp, it was painted with my personal crest of a crossed gladius with a northern battle axe in a circle in a background that was devided with a deep red to the left side and a deep blue to the right side.*4* Over my left shoulder the handel of a 3 foot long sword could be seen. The cloak having been pulled aside to uncover that of my left shoulder to enabel a draw of the blade that was .36 inches total length. 30 inch blade. 4 inch cross guard, 6 inch handel with a hammer shapped pommel.*5* To my right hip i held a quiver of 10 bolts for the cavalry crossbow.*6*. To the right side of the saddel there could be seen a cavalry crossbow It was positioned in sutch a manner it could easily be drawn by the right hand and with my right boot to the stearup used to drawback and make the weapon ready to fire another bolt.*7* The spear was resting across my lap while i held the buildersglas with my left hand to get a good look at the road and my current object of interest. (07/05/20 11:34 am) Absolute Obedience Enya -=Genesian Road=- Is traveling along the Genesian Road connecting Brundisium and other coastal cities with the south says to ~ Warrior Of The North : The caravan was making slow progress. I was, in my own way, anxious to reach our destination and see what the future might hold for a girl like me. I didn't dwell on such things as that. I was curious more than anything and I knew that whatever happened was meant to be. I never counted on anything being the same or remaining the same because nothing remained the same. Changes took place all the time. Most didn't see it or didn't want to see it. But me? I wasn't better than any slave. I was merely being me and who I was and not just who I was but what I was, too. I sighed and peeked out the back of the wagon. I almost wanted to get out and walk along side the thing ... but just at that moment, I heard cries for the caravan to stop. I honestly think that this was another deterrent in reaching our destination sooner rather than later... However, because the wagon was beginning to slow and because it was time for the noon meal to be prepared and served ... I, as well as three other girls and two thralls, were unshackled and told that we were to begin the meal preparations ... I just grinned. Didn't have to beg to be let out of the wagon and I'd be able to stretch my legs and tease some of the guards in the process ... (07/05/20 11:43 am) ~ Warrior Of The North ~ Bejar Bjorntand Master Tharlarion Rider ~ ~ Hraesvelgr ~ ~ -=Genesian Road=- Is traveling along the Genesian Road connecting Brundisium and other coastal cities with the south says to Absolute Obedience Enya: As the two wagons stopped i at first thought it was becouse of me. But as the slaves were let out of the 2nd wagon and started to sett up a simpel camp site off the road to the east i would take my time to counte you all cuz yes i did know how to counte sens mother had been a scribe from Ar- murmering to myself- 1..2..3...4 kajiras... moste of them seemed rather plain but then there was you.....There was a Slaver and a young man-perhaps his son or apprentice... And two other men the drivers of the two wagon. and the two thralls....hmmm......I considered my options...i wasnt really looking to kill anyone this day but you were pretty so what to do...what to do......But then as i saw you breaking away a bitt from the rest of them and go behind some bushes probably to gather fire wood or perhaps for a nature call- eather way you were alone- away from the group and so with a sly sleen grin i would sett away the builders glass to the saddel bag and bring my spear down along the tharlarions right flank pointing forward. I gave a low sharp whistel and the Tharlarion would start to walke slowly sideways down the knoll towards the area were you were at. My hope was that you all were not paying to close attention to notice the dust nor myself as i made my way down the side..... (07/05/20 11:49 am) Absolute Obedience Enya -=Genesian Road=- Is traveling along the Genesian Road connecting Brundisium and other coastal cities with the south says to ~ Warrior Of The North : FREE!!!! I almost laughed at the thought, but then I sobered because I was free. Freeer than most women ever imagined to be. I had been tasked to gather wood and other debris to start a fire. I was given a sack in case there were bosk chips missed or left or recently dropped. I wrinkled my nose and rolled my eyes, recalling the time I had accidentally stepped into some of these ... chips ... then I began to giggle. And the giggles turned to laughter and soon I was in a fit. Here I was, in the middle of nowhere ... really, I was somewhere between Bazi and Brundisium collecting items for a fire and recalling a time when I stepped into a mess .. I wasn't paying attention to where I was going nor to how far I had traveled from the "safety" of the wagons... Another quick glance over my shoulder said I was still within seeing distance of the small caravan ... I shrugged a shoulder. Turned my back on the caravan and continued to gather items needed... (07/05/20 11:55 am) ~ Warrior Of The North ~ Bejar Bjorntand Master Tharlarion Rider ~ ~ Hraesvelgr ~ ~ -=Genesian Road=- Is traveling along the Genesian Road connecting Brundisium and other coastal cities with the south says to Absolute Obedience Enya: Then as the Tharlarion slipped as it wasnt really built like a mounten verr but a sprinter on flat lands a small landslide of rocks and pebbels whent down the side with a clowd of dust some 200 yards behind of her. I grunted gave a sharp tug of the reins with my left hand to straighten up the beast and then wacked his right flank with the butt end of the spear and he came down the side like shoot out of a canon with a leap and a THUD he landed on even ground and sett off towards you like its ass was on fire with big long bounding stepps -this when in a larger group of the high tharlarions in full run would at times have a similar sound to thunder. The distance between us was shortened very fast as i moved the reins over to my right hand to have my left hand free while i hunched forward over the neck of my tharlarion. If she was dazed and got in a bitt of panic might not even see the man atop of the beast and simply the rather lage meat eating lizard comming at her in a full sprint..... (07/05/20 12:12 pm) Absolute Obedience Enya -=Genesian Road=- Is traveling along the Genesian Road connecting Brundisium and other coastal cities with the south says to ~ Warrior Of The North : Gor, at times, is very harsh. Some might even want to call Gor cruel. Hrump! No one ever menions the beauty found here. Or the wonders of Gor. I gave a mental shrug, knowing that most are usually swept up in what's taking place with them or around them. As a slave, I didn't have to worry about that. Did I? Of course not!! THUD!!! I was leaning to scoop some dried bosk chips into the sack I had been given when I heard the noise. And rather than bring my body upright to look, I turned my head in that direction expecting to see ... what I didn't know. But all I could see was a cloud of dust. And then I heard a rumbling sound. Deep and vibrating. I looked down at the ground, thinking it was going to leap up and meet my face half-way but it didn't. It was a pale Thassa gaze that saw an enormous dark shadow that seemed to be rising out of that pile of dust and moving. Fast. It was moving very fast. I felt my jaw drop. But could I move? No, because my mind was still trying to decipher if that huge, dark shadow that was still shrouded in that dust, was real or not. The dust was clearing. And the shadow loomed. The shadow was moving. And it was moving toward me. I was unable to move. My body wasn't listening to any command I was giving it either! The dust was clearing. The dust was clearing!!!! THE DUST WAS CLEARING!!! Racing toward me was a behemoth of a beast. And astride this beast, high perched in the saddle of the Tharlarion was a man that appeared to be larger than the Tharlarion!!! I moved then. Yes I did. I moved in the direction in which my feet were facing and I didn't stop. I opened my mouth and let out a screech, that, I'm sure, could be heard all the way back in Bazi!!! But could I look away to see where I was going? No. I could not. I wasn't making as fast as progress as that beast was!!! (07/05/20 12:23 pm) ~ Warrior Of The North ~ Bejar Bjorntand Master Tharlarion Rider ~ ~ Hraesvelgr ~ ~ -=Genesian Road=- Is traveling along the Genesian Road connecting Brundisium and other coastal cities with the south says to Absolute Obedience Enya: I grinned moste pleased as she got up and ran in a straight line away from us, that be me and the high tharlarion. Her scream did catch the attention of the Slaver and the other peopel scattered around the make shift camp. First they saw her run across the road towards the sea. And then with a might leap the muscular beast leap atop of the road and they would hardly catch a glimps of my dark brown cloths in a road runner similar fassion befor she whent down the left side of the road and the tharlarion after and we were out of sight from the camp. With a small sharp whistel ones the tharlarion was snapping at her heels i would have it adjust with a diagonal stepp forward and to its right as i leaned down and to my left with my thick powerfull tree trunk arm bent and then she feelt something akin to the oar of a serpentship hit her across her shoulder blades and a paw would then secure itself to her center torso as she was HEAVED UP -off the ground as i then leaned to my right and pulled her Up and over and the wind knocked out of her as you were sett belly down across the thick next of the High Tharlarion as i layed the weight and force of my left arm across her back while a vice like paw closed in a iron gripp to her neck so she would not slipp and dropp on her head-the fall would moste likely at this speed have killed her one way or the other as two short sharp whistels would have the Lizard named Scar due to the long nasty scar running down tween its eyes from the right tempel and down to head for the coste line and the port where my ship was . The port was not far off. (07/05/20 12:56 pm) Absolute Obedience Enya -=Genesian Road=- Is traveling along the Genesian Road connecting Brundisium and other coastal cities with the south says to ~ Warrior Of The North : I can honestly say I had never been hunted. But, from my experience, there is always a first time for everything. And this, of course, was no exception. I screeched again, thinking that it wasn't doing any good, plus I believed that I was too far from where the caravan stopped to be heard above the thundering that was right on my heels. I dared not look over my shoulder. I dared not stop, either. I was already gasping for breath and the sack I had been given to collect bosk chips was still held tightly and firmly between my fingers. I grinned because I lifted my arm as high as I could, thinking that if one of the guards from the caravan could see the sack they would know where I was and come after me. Is there such a thing as luck on Gor? Because if there was, I hadn't seen hide nor hair of it. Which meant that luck didn't exist or was nothing more than a figment of the imagination. I had to know where the thing was!!! Yet, I still didn't dare turn to look fearing that to do so would cause me to misstep and fall. Or stumble. Or get trampled on. I had to know though!! So, I turned my head and all I saw were grey and green colors. I wrinkled my nose again because of the odor that engulfed me. The combination of the dust and the smell of the beasts and, I'm sure, the aroma of my own fear that mingled with those other flavors were soon put out of my mind because I felt my body plunging forward. My eyes widened. My feet left the ground, and then I was gasping for air. Again. And as my mouth opened and closed, similar to a fish out of water, I felt as if I were being squeezed and that I would be making a trip to the City of Dust ... the last thing I do remember, were my eyes closing ... (07/05/20 1:08 pm) ~ Warrior Of The North ~ Bejar Bjorntand Master Tharlarion Rider ~ ~ Hraesvelgr ~ ~ -=Docks=- At the docks, where the Thassa meets the land says to Absolute Obedience Enya: There was a rison the high tharlarion cavalry of Lara was called Shock Cavalry. I had ones upon a time been there commander. Right here and now i simply keept her like that belly down across the thick powerfull neck of the High Tharlarion with my left arm keeping her secure in this position. The beast was keept in a full run right up untill we reatched the small Port only then would i slow down and as the clicking of metal shoed claws tapped on the rounded stones of the ports streets. Only then would i relax some. I would seat myself in my usual manner of straight back. Head held high and the spear held at my right side with the speartip for the sky. Making our way down for the docks my crew was ready some of the men loitering on the docks talking and laughing as they spotted me- THERE HE IS! They would shout and then point- LOOK- He got us a gift! The men would laugh- Whatcha got there Captain??? As i halted and slided you down into the awaiting arms of two Torvie men that even with there size were rather gentel as they captured her by the legs and arms and sett her to her feet and then held her-more so to keep her steady then so she would not run away. I took a moment to look down at her dust covered self.- she had looked pretty enough from afar but now not so mutch- And what WAS That smell?!? she smelled like bosk dung- The men would wrinkel there nose and waft a hand befor there faces- WHATCHA DO WITH HER Captain? roll her in bosk shit??? - Dontcha know he likes em smelly -would the skinny looking fella simply known as nose the knife say sitting on a crate picking at his nails with one of his manny knifes- and the men laughed anew.

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txladyj-blog · 6 years ago

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Chapter 9 - This Time Around

a Daryl Dixon x OFC collaboration written by @xmistressmistrustx

Rating: Explicit

Relationship: Daryl Dixon/Original Female Character

Tags: Friendship, Friends to Lovers, Awkwardness, Awkward Flirting, Awkward Crush, Fluff and Humor, Angst and Humor, Mild Smut, Strong Language, Eventual Sex, Eventual Romance, Slow Burn, Canon Divergence, Some Canon Scenes and Dialogue

Chapters 23/?

It was Daryl’s fourth hour of sweeping apartment blocks in the city. Everyone at the prison urged him to stay put, they needed him, one of their most competent and brave fighters, but his stubborn streak had prevailed and he set off for the city regardless. As he moved from one building to another, he collected any useful supplies he could carry, figuring if he could at least return to the group with some kind of offering it might count for something. He didn’t hesitate long in one place; he was aware that he needed to be with his group but a big part of him wanted to find Jess. He’d planned it all out in his head, what he would say, how he would convince her to go back with him. But first, he’d ask her what her bullshit note was about. The same note that he carried everywhere with him, burning a hole in his pocket like it was made of the cinders of his fury at her departure.

He knew when he’d found it. Stacks of books everywhere, some with wooden planks across them to make tables, graphic novels, hunting guides and medical textbooks. A balcony that was once full of flourishing herbs and fruits now torn down and scattered through the open door onto the carpet. At first glance, it could have belonged to any number of lone survivors in a city as large as Atlanta. But he knew Jess had been there when he saw the pile of neatly folded T-shirts on the arm of the couch. It was the one thing that hadn’t been torn asunder by whatever had transpired before he’d arrived. There was no sign of her now and the dried blood smeared across the interior, in particular the carpet, had darkened and started to crisp, telling him that he was at least a few days too late.

After a frantic search of every corner and his hope of footprints leading somewhere being dashed, he dropped onto the couch and leaned forwards with his elbows on his knees. His mind cast into a detailed flashback of everything that happened at the quarry and guilt gnawed in the background. He thought of her note. Who was she to tell him how he saw her? Where did she get such an idea? He’d tried to make amends and show her that the announcement of the contents of her journal didn’t matter to him. He’d tried and she still left. It bubbled under the surface, that same rage he’d endured when he first realized that she really was gone. Now, he was risking being absent at a time when his group needed him because for some reason, he couldn’t just let her go.

He lashed out, sweeping the entire contents of the coffee table across the room. Candles, empty tins and glasses collided with the wall and sent a spiraling, noisy commotion through the walls of the building and down the staircase. He watched the items from the table scatter and still felt no relief. She was gone, possibly for good. His one and only lead had come up with nothing.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

She dreamed of ice, licking at her toes and fingertips and creeping into her bones through sensitive skin. It was all around her, every inch of her tainted by it’s freezing embrace as she thrashed and gasped for air, her breath a white cloud expelling from her weakening body. Her heart, which felt ten times the size it should have been, compressed and struggled in her chest. She shuddered and tried to call out, tried to scream but nothing emerged on the useless huff of air that was all she could manage. Her eyes flew open. Where was she? Was she safe? Why was it so cold?

“Oh…Jesus.” She breathed as she tried to catch her breath, her freezing cold hand resting on her chest and her dream slowly drifting away, most of it anyway.

Her eyes moved up to a window. The Boat. She was in the bedroom on the boat and it was so cold she thought she might freeze to death. The inside of the glass was coated in condensation from the minimal amount of warmth that her body had given off as she slept. She drew the blankets around her and shuffled from the mattress, her socks slipping on the shiny floor. She lifted a hand and rubbed at the window with her fingertips. So cold were they that she couldn’t even feel the damp surface through the numbness in her limbs. She squinted out at the water, unsure if her eyes were playing tricks on her.

“Shit.” She hissed.

Outside on the deck, she stood with her boots on but unlaced, a thick sweater and the blankets from the bed wrapped around her. Unimpressed and irritated by the sight, she sighed slowly, rubbing her hand over her sleepy eyes and brushing her dark hair back from her face. The boat was a safe, albeit unusual choice for a sanctuary during the apocalypse but Jess found it to be everything she wanted. She was far from the shoreline which meant any Walkers or humans had to cross a lot of water to be able to get to her and her weapon-filled, floating fortress. On the roof of the cabin, she grew crops which she moved inside when she noticed the season taking a turn. Now they took up residence in a spare room inside, encouraged by an infra-red light, powered by a small generator which still had enough juice to be switched on for an hour or so every day.

She learned how to fish, catching her meals easily most days after conducting an experiment with a stray dog on the beach that proved the life in the lake was untouched by whatever had turned the human race. The boat was quite the picturesque scene, peaceful and still luxurious even given the situation. But heat was becoming an issue and no number of candles could change the fact that her route to the land was now covered with ice, rendering her unable to fish and eat for the foreseeable future. As far as she could see, the layer stretched from the boat to the shore, the edge of it bumping against the boats hull beneath her feet.

She rolled her eyes and vanished inside, immediately setting about packing her things in order to move on yet again. She told herself she would return once the weather was better and had no plans to move out completely, she kept the key to the cabin in her pocket and eventually climbed into the canoe which split the ice around it into jagged pieces from the movement of the water underneath. With her machete, she smashed at the cold surface between rowing. It was a painfully slow process that left her frustrated and sweating despite the below zero temperature but progress was progress and as she neared the beach, she began to feel a sense of achievement. She climbed out of the boat and onto the jetty, rolling onto her back and cursing under her breath, her machete clattered onto the wooden landing.

It was a peaceful couple of months living on the boat but Jess was smart enough to make sure that she never became complacent or lured into a false sense of security. The world was still full of threats, people that ate people if they were alive or dead. The living reduced to the depths of depravity, stealing, murdering, raping, looting. She’d seen near enough all of it in less than a year of being on the road alone. Death was always part of life, but not in the way Jess had now been witness to and sometimes when it came to a matter of them and her, she’d been forced to commit acts that she didn’t even know she was capable of. After the initial horrendous guilt, she’d been forced to carry on and survive, just like every other person that remained walking the earth with a brain that hadn’t been reanimated.

Being a nomad after leaving the boat was the toughest thing she’d experienced yet. The cold was biting, destructive and relentless and her movement was restricted when defending herself due to her layers of clothing that were needed to shield her against the bitter winds. She hid in frozen ditches for convoys to pass with trucks full of screaming people, their leaders decorated in war paint as If it gave them any more rights than anyone else. She fought off wildlife, ran from Bears and Coyotes and found Deer harder to hunt than they had ever been before. But still, she persevered and soldiered on with a strength and determination that was now cemented in her being. By that point, she knew she was no quitter.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

A fairground wouldn’t have been her first choice of homestead but the discovery, one crisp morning after sleeping in a tree, of a small building in the corner between the Ferris wheel and Haunted House piqued her interest enough to draw her inside. The structure was solid enough, protected from the wind by the carcasses of rides around it. A broken sign above the door read ‘Casey’s Diner.’ Jess thought it was the smallest diner she’d ever seen, but once she’d kicked the door in and checked the inside for any dangers, she found it to be quaint and full of potential. She ran her fingertips along the tables and chairs as she walked through the seating area, even the black and red tiled walls were an aesthetic she could live with. The tables could all be removed in favor of more useful furniture that she could find almost anywhere. There was a long counter in the middle that opened up into an open-plan kitchen, some of which could still be used if she could only find a generator big enough to power it. The windows were thick, the outside fitted with bars to deter those wanting to take up residence or rob the place out of season.

Handy. She thought.

Stepping back outside into the cold, she surveyed the area. The wind whistled through the rusting metal of the rides, signs flapped in the breeze and the fence enclosing the small fairground itself needed repairs in certain places, the most important being the main gate, which Jess had managed to unlock using a small pair of bolt cutters from her backpack. She could work with it, the effort it would need not deterring her in the slightest. She needed shelter before it started to snow and the disused diner would have to do.

It wasn’t easy to find the materials she needed to make the necessary repairs to the fence and fortify the building. She walked for miles to and from the next town, having to use her conserved energy to hack Walkers to death and shoot them with arrows until she was left with a mere two hours of daylight to get a huge, heavy bag of supplies back to the fairground. She may have found what she needed but her fingers were raw from making snare traps in the area around the fences to ensnare small animals for food. Her joints ached from hauling the old furniture out and hacking it all to pieces. Finding a truck with gas left in it parked on the dirt track of a farm was just the stroke of luck she needed. A generator awaited her in the barn, the only issue was how to remove the solar panels that fueled it from the roof.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Jess’s senses were more than heightened from being on her own for so long and having to be mindful of any threats so as not to become Walker food. Sounds such as snapping twigs and scuffing on the ground alerted her immediately and within seconds, she was alert, bow readied and eyes carefully scanning her surroundings. It was the sound of breathing on this occasion while she stood in the barn trying to figure out how to get the huge generator out and onto the truck, along with the panels, she had no idea where to start. She pulled the string of her bow tight and straightened her back.

“I know you’re there.” She called out. “Make yourself known or I’ll be forced to find you and kill you.”

The barn was piled high with hay bales, a tractor stood to one side and wooden posts obscured her view of the entrance she’d wandered through, dead set on fetching her generator. There was no way she was about to let anyone else take it. Finders keepers, that’s how she saw it. She’d never robbed anyone or felt the need to when supplies were around, they just took a little patience to find.

She spotted boots on the other side of the tractor, moving past it’s massive wheels and wading through hay dropped from the bales on either side. She aimed as a man stepped into view. His hands were up in surrender, he wore a clean, blue and white flannel shirt with a black wax jacket, his hair was cut and tidy, his skin bore no signs of dirt or injury. He held no visible weapons and on his back he carried something else spotless, a tan backpack.

Jess never went anywhere without her mask and hood, they provided her with extra warmth as well an anonymity to anyone she may meet on her travels. She was now a solitary roamer with no desire to connect with anyone or bear the burden of having to take care of someone else. She peered at the man over the top of her mask, which obscured her nose and mouth, showing only her eyes. She quickly swept one leg back, moving into a defensive stance and lined her aim up with the center of his head.

“Who are you?” she demanded firmly.

“My name is Aaron. I come from a community nearby.” He explained. His tone was calm but Jess could sense the underlying anxiety that came with confronting strangers in the new world. Everyone possessed it, it was just more obvious in some than others.

“Backup.” She spat, jutting her bow at him. He jumped in surprise and held his hands up higher. “This is my generator. I found it first.”

Aaron’s eyebrows raised at her intent to take the generator. It was obvious to him that it was all she cared about, aside from not being killed.

“Fair enough. I don’t need one anyway. I just came to talk to you.” He told her.

She glared at him, trying to read him, to figure out what intentions he could possibly have being so squeaky clean and turning up out of the blue for a conversation. It didn’t add up and she didn’t trust him from the moment she heard his breathing from the other side of the barn. She didn’t want to have to kill another living human and so hoped that distraction techniques and words would provide her with enough time to figure out an alternative.

“You expect me to believe that you cornered me in a barn for a conversation?” She asked

“Uh…I know how strange that must seem.” He smiled.

“Hm.” She grunted. It did seem strange, just like everything else about him. His eyes may have looked kind enough, but she had seen all this before. The wolf in sheep’s clothing. She kept a firm grip on her bow. “So talk.” She instructed. “Or I’ll shoot you in the face.”

A kill count wasn’t something Jess ever wanted to have. But it was inevitable for her to have survived so long into what was now a rotting world full of death. She wasn’t yet in double figures, or so she thought. Who knows how many of the people she’d shot in the legs had failed to escape the clutches of an oncoming herd or a hungry, lone Walker in a small space and succumbed to the turn? She couldn’t dwell on it or more of her soul would fall away. She didn’t cry about it anymore. In fact, she hadn’t cried in months, unable to remember the last time. Maybe she was just numb and that wasn’t good. But it didn’t mean she wasn’t prepared to execute another person in order to protect herself.

“I’ve been watching you. You’re very resourceful and handy with that bow.” Aaron explained with his hands still held aloft. “We could use someone like you. We have a lot to offer. Houses, electricity, hot, running water, medical care…walls and-”

“-Cannibals.” She interrupted loudly. Aaron blinked at her in surprise. “You must be cannibals if you have all that.”

His hands began to lower again as he used them to enhance his argument. He stepped closer but she nudged her head up in warning.

Stay there or I will shoot you between the eyes.

“No.” He protested. “I can assure you. We have food, but we’re not cannibals. Please, lower your weapon. I’m not a threat to you.”

“Yeah? Well, I’m a threat to you.” She warned boldly. “Hold your hands out in front of you so I can see ‘em clearer.”

Doing as he was asked, she couldn’t ignore the puzzled look on his face as she inched closer and observed his empty hands as he held them out, palms down and trembling slightly. He flinched when she suddenly stooped down and collected a small rock from the ground and threw it to him.

“Catch”

He caught the rock effortlessly, still baffled by her behavior and concerned that she may be a little more unhinged than he’d anticipated when he’d observed her fixing fences and hauling tables and chairs around while singing quietly to herself at the fairground. He was impressed by her resourcefulness and skills after finding various traps around the fences that could prove almost lethal to anyone that happened to stumble into them.

“What are-”

“-Kuru. Creutzfeldt-Jakob Disease. Prion Disease. Whatever you want to call it. Cannibals have tremors and difficulty grasping things. Slower reactions and poor coordination. Among other symptoms. Its incubation period is usually ten years but with food scarce and dumb folk all over the place, people eating people on the daily is common enough to speed up the process”

“That’s…Interesting.” Aaron offered, mildly concerned by her detailed knowledge.

“Not as interesting as the tremor in your hands.” She shot back, seeing him tilt his head back slightly, a look of worry creeping across his features.

“Forgive me, but I am on the business end of an arrow right now. If I were you, I’d be worried if my hands weren’t trembling.”

Jess huffed with amusement. She couldn’t deny that he had a point and it was delivered a thin lacing of sass.

You’re a funny fucker, aren’t you?

“You’re a smartass too.” She declared.

Aaron finally smiled and laughed. Jess lowered her bow subtly but not enough for him to notice. She wasn’t naïve enough to let him win her trust that easily and so keeping something sharp and pointed aimed his way seemed like a wise course of action, no matter how charming and polite he appeared.

“I was just going to say that about you. Just, in my head. Not out loud. I kind of still like being alive.” He grinned “So, did I pass the test?”

She went back over their conversation in her head. A community nearby, food, water, walls, medical supplies. Even if it was true, it was something she no longer wanted. She was better alone. Safer, cunning, clever. If only she could get that damn generator into the back of the truck. She raised an eyebrow at Aaron.

“So far.”

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Jess sat up in bed and rubbed her eyes, it was cold in the room but nowhere near as cold as the boat with nothing to break up the howling wind. She swung her legs from the wooden framed bed, taken from the same farm where she ran into the man called Aaron with the kind eyes and clean clothes. In her newly re-arranged kitchen, she prepared a breakfast of tinned sausages and beans, cooked in a pot on a stove that was powered by the generator Aaron had helped her get back to her new home.

She’d bargained with him; He helped her get her generator and she agreed to scope out the community of Alexandria from outside it’s walls, observing the operations, security and supply run teams from high up in a tree that gave her the perfect vantage point. It all seemed innocent enough, but Jess was still untrusting and guarded and eventually agreed to meet the leader of Alexandria on the promise that it was conducted away from the town and she was allowed to be fully armed.

It wasn’t easy to get through to Jess, but Deanna, the woman who made all the decisions for the community, was very convincing and it became apparent to Jess upon the arrival of a stray Walker where their meeting took place in the woods, that Deanna had not been outside of her community since before the world went wrong. Everything that was explained to her, she was able to corroborate and after weeks of surveillance, she took her first steps inside to meet the wary faces of the townsfolk.

Jess kept to herself and didn’t utter a word to anyone unless she had no other choice. Aaron stuck by her side at first, assuring people that she wasn’t a danger to them and when she began bringing back Deer and small game after the seasons switched again, people started to accept her as the mysterious bringer of sustenance and protector of the areas around the circumference of the walls. In return, Jess had access to medical supplies and a shower with hot, running water at Aaron’s house that he shared with his partner, Eric. She never once, let anyone see her face, going about her business in full protective clothing.

Jess refused to move from the fairground. It was her home and the place that she felt most at ease. She didn’t have fences as large as Alexandria, but hers were sufficient and she knew every inch of them. Living away from everybody else meant she made no connections. No friends, just one or two acquaintances. She wanted to live a life without ties that could lead to more emotional trauma or put her at risk of getting killed. She had a deal with Alexandria, an understanding. On top of that, she also got her generator and solar panels which Aaron had helped to install along with the help of a man Jess didn’t know and didn’t need to know. All she cared about was him being able to make her stove work before she could send him back inside the walls.

Hunting was both a necessity and an enjoyable activity once the weather warmed and the mornings and evenings became lighter. If the Walker numbers were kept low within a mile radius, which was Jess’s job, animals ventured closer to Alexandria to forage and when they did, Jess nabbed them. Sometimes, she’d be out overnight, so engrossed in tracking and taking down something larger than a rabbit that she just couldn’t let it go. That was another good thing about being on the sidelines of a community, the gas for a vehicle. Journeying out further to relatively untouched patches of woodland turned up some great results, especially when she borrowed a hunting rifle from the armory.

Slinking through the trees early one morning with her rifle readied and her eyes cast down across the ground, she followed the tracks of what she thought could be a large deer. Its imprints were deep, suggesting it was somewhat hefty and the foliage it nibbled along the way provided her with the perfect path. She breathed quietly through her nose, kept her footsteps light and her hood up.

This is going to be a good one. She thought, excited at the prospect of her share.

Then, male voices caught her attention and she dived behind the nearest bush; her body locked into such a stillness that she thought her heart might stop beating.

“A bitch got you all messed up. Walking around here like a dead man. She must have been a good’un. Was it one of the little ones? They don’t last too long out here.” A man commented.

There was a scuffle but Jess couldn’t see from her current position. While the noises of scraping boots on the muddy floor went on, she twisted her body just enough to make out the scene through the leaves of her hiding place. She needed to know what she was dealing with if she was discovered.

Clamping a hand over her mouth was all she could do to stop herself from gasping loudly with shock. There, beyond the leaves and with a long-haired stranger in a brutal headlock, was Daryl Dixon. His face was twisted into a rage, sweat slick on his forehead as he used all his might to choke the man in his grip. She almost fell backwards and gave her location away when the man whirled out of Daryl’s arm and swung a punch which Daryl quickly avoided. As he ducked, Jess heard the unmistakable shing of a knife being unsheathed and Daryl lunged with the cold metal in his hand.

Her mind was blank. She had no idea what to do. If she should intervene or stay put. It was Daryl. He’d hurt her and she’d deliberately put what she’d thought were hundreds of miles between them, only for him to show up right in front of her in the woods. Still, she didn’t want to see him get killed.

As he neared the man with his knife raised, someone else arrived. An older, grey man with a much more relaxed attitude stepped in and broke up the fight which, as she learned from the shadows, was over who the dead rabbit on the ground belonged to.

He was different, angrier and war-worn but she didn’t get the same vibes from him that she got from the others, and there were more of them. A whole group of them travelling through the woods, she’d discovered. It wasn’t until she retreated further into the trees and decided to follow them that she could tell their intentions were worlds apart from Daryl’s.

The railway tracks were incredibly difficult to follow along without being seen, but she stayed in the tree line, her dark, camouflage and protective clothing aiding her in her disguise. From there, she could hear what was being said. She didn’t possess one ounce of trust in the men he was with and maybe it was because she was an outside observer, but she was shocked that Daryl didn’t seem to know that they were merely using him. Now, there was no way she was leaving. She followed on until they stopped outside an empty auto repairs place on a crossroads. For a moment, Daryl was left alone while the others checked the building.

It was tempting. Oh, so tempting to signal him from the trees and alert him to her presence. He struck a lonely figure as he stood in the road by himself. He looked older, his hair was longer and he still wore his angel wings on his back, only now they were fading and ripped. She was completely torn, half of her wanted to go to him but she was stopped by the memory of what he’d said to his brother. That she meant nothing to him. So, why would he even care if she was there or not? She stayed quiet and hidden, creeping up to a window when darkness fell and they took shelter inside. Carefully, by peeking through a corner of the window, she was able to look inside without being detected.

From the glass, she sighed and watched him sleep on a black piece of plastic while the others took up residence in cars. For the first time since she discovered him, she had the time to acknowledge how much she missed him. She was still hurt, heartbroken in fact by what she’d heard. But it was Daryl. Once her good friend and if she was totally honest, the person she’d thought about every day since she left the group. He still inspired her and try as she might, she couldn't shake the notion that she still found him to be incredibly attractive.

I might mean nothing to you. But, I’m here. I’m not leaving you with these jackasses.

She slept against the side of the auto repairs building, under the window and shrouded in leaves. Waking only when she heard an argument going on inside. On the verge of stepping in to prevent Daryl from being hurt by the mindless, violent, idiots he’d ended up with, she gripped her machete in her hand and started to think about how she was going to charge in and take on seven men when the aggression was suddenly diverted from Daryl to one of the other men. Jess sank back and breathed a deep huff of relief. She didn’t have to see him get hurt.

When the body of the man Daryl had fought with in the woods was dumped inches from her as they departed, she held her breath until she was sure none of them could hear her and set about following them further. She didn’t know why, but going back was not an option. She couldn’t leave him. Not with this group. Not now. There were too many risks.

They re-joined the railway tracks and Jess was able to silently move along at the back of the group where Joe, the grey-haired man who she gathered was the leader, talked to Daryl and offered him a drink from a hip flask. She saw him hesitate as she carefully climbed over logs and slithered through the trees at a pace that was tough to keep up without being too noisy. He shrugged a shoulder up and accepted.

“I ain’t been lit at dawn since before everything fell apart” He expressed.

Jess couldn’t help it. The way he spoke and his conversational tone coupled with a nonchalant shrug was so typical of him and it stung at her emotions. But at his honest comment, her face broke into a wide smile that she struggled to control. So wrapped up in how much she missed him, she failed to navigate around a large tree trunk and smacked into it, causing a rustle that Daryl heard over everyone else. He paused and Jess was sure he was looking right at her from the tracks as she hugged the tree and wished that she hadn’t just acted with the dexterity of a toddler running through the woods. Joe carried on while Daryl squinted into the dark trees and adjusted his crossbow. Her lungs began to burn, she didn’t want to breathe for fear of being noticed, her knees felt like they might cave in.

You really are a tracker.

After what seemed like hours, Daryl finally moved on, joining the rest of the men at a metal sign on the side of the tracks. They gathered around, talking in hushed tones that she couldn’t quite make out from her position. Then, Daryl stepped back, revealing the word at the top of the sign which made her blood run cold and her eyes well with tears. She knew exactly where they were headed and she had to do something to stop them.

TERMINUS.

NEXT CHAPTER

#daryl dixon #the walking dead daryl #twd fanfiction #twd daryl #daryl x oc #daryl dixon imagine

16 notes · View notes

goodlucktai · 6 years ago

Text

the way you move ain’t fair, you know

final fantasy xv pairing: promnis word count: 1595 summary: Ignis and Prompto, and three times they danced. read on ao3

It doesn’t help that their audience is laughing. Ignis levers a stern look at them and tightens his grip on his dancing partner’s waist before the inevitable escape attempt can be made.

“Ignore them, Prompto,” he says. “Don’t go slinking off now, you’ve almost got the hang of it.”

“The hang of stomping on your feet?” Prompto says miserably. “Yeah, I’ve got that down.”

There’s a ball coming up, the first one that Prompto will attend as the prince’s royal guard rather than the prince’s personal guest. There’s a certain level of etiquette he was trained in already, along with the other recruits that were going into regular Crownsguard services, but with higher clearance comes additional requirements.

At least, that’s how Clarus pitched it. It was a kinder, more professional way of saying “your best friend threw you under the bus.” Because if Noctis had to dance, by Shiva, so did Prom.

He’s not the clumsy teenager he was in high school. He’s grown into his wide shoulders and long limbs, leanly muscled from training, lithe and flexible and strong. Ignis is certain he’ll be a beautiful dancer, if only he manages to learn the steps.

“You’re much better at this than Noctis,” Ignis says plainly, making no effort to lower his voice. It carries easily across the polished surfaces of the airy ballroom. “It took him weeks to learn a simple waltz, and that was with a handful of royal tutors. He may appear graceful now, but appearances are deceiving.”

It surprises Prompto into laughter, the first unselfconscious sound he’s made all evening. Noctis looks betrayed. Gladio looks as though he’s happy just to be alive in this moment. At least they’ve stopped making fun.

“Well,” Prompto says, “I guess I can think of worse ways to spend my time.”

His posture is relaxed, his body radiating warmth against Ignis’ hands where they’re holding him. He’s been sized for a formal tux for the event, and generally Ignis has a proclivity for the sharp and elegant lines of suits and gowns-- but Prompto looks good like this, in paint-stained sweats and one of Gladio’s T-shirts. Ignis almost prefers it to the tailcoat he’ll wear at the ball.

“As can I,” Ignis says, and he signals Noctis to start the music again, and away they whirl.

“Aw, come on, Iggy,” Prompto says, “I know you’ve gone clubbing before. Don’t lie to me.”

Twenty-four and ludicrously charming, Prompto leans languidly across Ignis’ desk like a cat that caught a canary. There’s a smile tugging at his mouth that is almost a smirk, knowing and self-satisfied.

Ignis shuffles paperwork around for something to do with his hands, well aware of their friends’ hawk-like eyes following the verbal volleys.

“It’s been several years,” he says stiffly. It’s the wrong thing to say when Prompto shoots upright, hands planted on the edge of Ignis’ desk, victory in every light and line of his body.

“So you have gone!”

Gladio is looking at Ignis like Ignis just did a backflip over his desk. Sometimes the prince and the Shield seem to forget that he does have a personal life outside of his professional one. It’s just that the lines between personal and professional are perpetually blurred, considering how much of his heart his comrades and his liege take up.

“Prompto, no.” Ignis uses the tone he usually uses to shut things down. It usually works. “I’m much too busy to take a weekend off for no other reason than you want an excuse to make me wear eyeliner.”

The silence that follows is weighted. Prompto blinks, and looks at Noctis, who gently palms his face as though he can’t bear to look at them. Gladio says, “You know your birthday is on Saturday, right, Specs?”

Ignis pauses. Glances down at his ever-present planner, open to the current month, and finds the unmarked date looming back at him.

“Ah,” he says.

“So, you realize you just rendered your entire argument obsolete now, and there's no way you're getting out of this?” Prompto asks gently.

“Yes, I realize that.”

Which is how Ignis finds himself at a club on Saturday, with Sunday off as well. Ignis has to wonder how in the hell his friends managed that, because he hasn’t had two consecutive days free in-- frankly, he doesn’t want to think how many years.

Prompto, at least, is in his element. He’s confident here the way he isn’t in most other places. The neon lights of the club wash over his pale skin and fair hair, turn him technicolor and violet-eyed, and he attracts more than one lingering look as he walks backwards toward the dance floor, fingers curled stubbornly in the belt loops of Ignis’ jeans to pull him along.

“Just one song,” Prompto shouts over the thumping bass, a beat Ignis can feel in the soles of his shoes. “No, two. Three.” He grins crookedly, at himself or at the two of them or at their friends drinking themselves stupid at the bar or at the ridiculousness of all of it combined.

He’s lovely, Ignis thinks, not for the first time. Vivid and wild when he forgets to box himself in. Built for movement, for action, a runner’s body and an artist’s core. His eyes are fixed points in the dark room, like a path for Ignis to follow through the gyrating crowd and dizzying music. His hands are a constant warmth, searing through the thin material of Ignis’ borrowed shirt.

And a strange shiver of delight shoots through Ignis’ stomach at their closeness, when Prompto presses in to say, “Dance with me, Iggy! It’s your birthday!”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” Ignis says, and holds Prompto where he is, where there’s barely inches between them. “I’ll follow your lead.”

By the end of the night, Ignis’ feet are sore and his eyes feel bruised from the strobing lights and there’s a headache forming at his temples; but none of these things stop him from following Prompto’s gentle tug on his collar, and leaning in to kiss him while they wait for the valet to bring around the car.

“Thank the Six you’re so persistent,” he says. “I’d hate to have missed this.”

“I’d’ve gotten you one way or another,” Prompto assures him, grinning. Ignis believes him.

Noctis and Prompto are spinning around in circles on the dance floor, both of them turning thirty this year and behaving like the children they were when they first met. They haven’t knocked anyone else over, by the grace of Shiva, but it probably has more to do with the wide berth other dancers are giving them than their own observational skills.

“It’s nice to see the two of them behaving with the due dignity and decorum of their offices,” Ignis remarks mildly, setting aside his champagne.

Gladio claims the chair beside him, since most of the organized seating has gone out the window at this point in the evening, looking a happy mix of amused and proud. He’s a little pink from the alcohol, and his eyes are still a little puffy from his emotional speech at dinner. The glance Ignis gives him is unrelentingly fond. He figures he can get away with that today, of all days.

“This is the rest of your life,” the Shield says. “Aren’t you glad you signed up for this?”

“I signed up for this when I was six,” Ignis replies dryly. “Had I had any idea then what my future would look like, that might have influenced my decision.”

Gladio huffs out a laugh, not buying it. They’ve been friends for too long. “Yeah, influenced you to sign up faster. You wouldn’t trade a second of this for all the Michelin stars in the world. And that’s not what I was talking about.”

Ignis lets his eyes wander across the rolling garden. The lanterns and string lights are a warm glow, rocked gently by the summer breeze, and the clinking of cutlery and glasses is a pleasant backdrop, and the live band was replaced by an energetic DJ hours ago, a friend of Prompto’s from his favorite nightclub. The music is energetic, and the people on the dancefloor are having a good time, and Ignis has suddenly had quite enough of his cake and champagne.

He stands, folding his napkin over his plate politely.

“If you’ll excuse me,” he says, with playful severity, and heads away from one of his closest friends and towards the two of them currently making a nuisance of themselves among people too polite to say so.

“Specs!” Noctis cries gladly, without the good grace to look apologetic. He and Prompto both are shining with joy, they have been all night. “Here to steal your husband back?”

The word sends a thrill through him, and he smiles inwardly. What he says is, “Here to stop the two of you from mowing down everyone within a five foot radius, yes. Now hand him over.”

Prompto’s hair is a mess, and his tie is undone, and his suit jacket is gone to parts unknown and probably won’t ever be recovered, and Ignis has never loved anyone more.

“How much longer do we have the DJ?” Ignis asks against his hair. Prompto hums, muffled in Ignis’ chest.

“Ace’ll stay all night if I ask ‘im to. Why?”

“That’s how long I want to dance with you,” Ignis says.

Prompto looks up at him, eyes shining. “Everyone else’ll probably get bored and go home.”

“All the better,�� Ignis says, and Prompto laughs, and they dance.

#final fantasy xv #ffxv #promnis #prompto argentum #ignis scientia #my writing #ffxv fic

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athenaainsix-blog · 6 years ago

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Why you absolutely shouldn’t care about climate change

By: Athena Insixiengmai

As climate change rapidly destroys our planet, why not simply enjoy what we have left instead of building a new and improved world for the generations that follow?

Act III of Famous Painting ‘The Garden of Earthly Delights’ by Hieronymous Bosch

It is predicted that by the year 2030, the effects of climate change will be rendered irreversible, meaning an increase of natural disasters, unusual weather patterns, higher poverty rates and even mass reductions of food production will happen. Within the next 11 years, between 35 and 122 million people are at risk of being in extreme poverty, mostly counting smaller scale farming communities. But, as someone lucky enough to live in a highly developed country, why should I care?

During the making of the National Geographic documentary ‘Before the Flood,’ actor Leonardo DiCaprio finds that time is not a luxury we have, and as a matter of fact, we are rapidly running out of it. DiCaprio and director Fisher Stevens used his fanbase to their advantage to allow people to become more aware of the problem. Perhaps seeing that an award-winning actor makes people see that the problem is real to everyone, and that there are changes to be made.

The climate crisis affects all, but only cared for by some. It is mostly human caused, and not to point fingers but the world has never seen such a rapid rise in global temperature before we came around. It is a challenge for this generation to tackle, though it is a community effort that creates real impact.

As we are all different, whether it be within beliefs or even interests, this planet is all we have in common. This problem is the world's opportunity to band together, all reaching for the same goal. Today, the goal is to prolong life, within the century, the goal will simply be survival.

What does it take to get people to care? Why aren’t people more aware?

What we did

To summarize what we did to get ourselves here, we ate, we bought, we consumed. We want more than we can have, and more than the planet can withstand. It is important to understand where the things you consume come from, and the negative effects of buying/using too much. Our food, water and energy consumption are all very quickly turning back on us. According to data from a 2010 study from the University of Columbia, 67.3% of global greenhouse gas emissions are from fossil fuels, the other 32.7% include agriculture, land clearing and all other gas emissions. The burning of coal, usage of oil and gas are the main contributors, AKA the energy used to power homes and buildings, worldwide. Of course, we can’t live without our food, water or power but we can certainly reduce. We used more than the planet could ever imagine, with extreme rates of animal extinction, deforestation, sea level rises and natural disasters, take a stand and cut down on your consumption.

Where we’re at

If we continue living in the same way as we have been, we will raise the global temperature by approximately 5°C by the end of the century, a change so drastic that we haven’t seen it since the Ice Age. What we are seeing right now is extraordinarily disastrous, such as record-breaking heat, extreme weather, sea level rise and ocean dead zones. It may be nice to have beautiful beach weather but since 2002, we have had 9 out of 10 of the hottest summers ever recorded.

Due to the global surface temperature rising, the Arctic ice is melting. In even simpler terms, less ice equals more heat. Stephanie Pfirman of Columbia University compares the Arctic as an air conditioner for the northern hemisphere and says that once we lose the surface that reflects the sun, we begin to absorb it. Another issue is how polluted our oceans have become. Oceans will absorb over ¼ of CO2 emissions each year, meaning the ocean acidity rises. This puts marine life at risk, which means the marine food chains that feed us are also affected. Other things happening today are intensifying hurricanes, rivers flooding, bodies of water disappearing, and more. The way I see it, every aspect of life is interconnected, once one part goes down, it begins to bring other parts down with it.

Global Surface Temperature, measured in anomalies, image from NASA

How we can fix it

As we are very much the problem, it is important to become the solution, or at least be a part of it. It is a hard pill to swallow when accepting that we cannot fix everything, choosing a few things to help does matter. It’s not everyone’s job to fix everything, it’s everyone’s job to try and fix something, anything. Not every impact has to be big and drastic, taking baby steps is okay but take too long to change and it may be too late. We are responsible as individuals and as a society to be aware of the challenges of today and to learn how to overcome them.

As individuals, we can make personal changes within our lifestyles. Changing our diets, our modes of transportation, our energy consumption and more are all things that are usually accessible and quite easy. Did you know that it takes almost 8000 liters of water to produce one pound of beef? A USGS study shows that eating poultry takes 2000 liters for one pound, significantly less but not necessarily better. Challenge yourself to start living a more sustainable life, remember that it isn’t only for you, it is for the home you’ve always known.

Being a person on this planet makes you a part of a population, but it also means you are part of a community. As a community, we are the ones responsible to prolong the lives of our future generations, giving them the same opportunities of life that we’ve had. Quite a few regions of the world have access to much more sustainable energy, such as wind, water and solar/sun power. A University of California study says that if the world turned to WWS power (wind, water, solar), it would eliminate approximately 4.6 million deaths annually caused by air pollution worldwide as well as save $22.8 trillion dollars of health costs for the global economy. It may not be easy, but it is completely possible for big changes to occur.

“The future is knocking at our door right now. Make no mistake, the next generation will ask us one of two questions. Either way they will ask, ‘What were you thinking; why didn’t you act?’ or they will ask instead, ‘How did you find the moral courage to rise and successfully resolve a crisis that so many said was impossible to solve?”

-Al Gore

It is a worldwide responsibility to try and reverse the effects of climate change before it is truly too late for us. We barely have over a decade to make a difference, that means that every day counts. There is always something to do.

If you need ideas on how to help:

1. Use Reusable Bags, Cups, Utensils, etcetera.

2. Eat Less Meat & Dairy

3. Recycle

4. Save Electricity

5. Save Water

6. Print Less

7. Drive Less or Carpool

8. Vote Green Party!

9. Educate others on how to help!

If you want to become more aware and more educated on the topic, be sure to watch documentaries such as ‘Before the Flood’, ‘Cowspiracy’, ‘The True Cost’ & ‘Chasing Ice’.

(I hope the title was shocking and enticing enough for you to read through the entire text)

https://www.beforetheflood.com/explore/the-journey/

#before the flood #climate change #climate action #take a stand #planet #sustainability #environment #leonardo dicaprio #future

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haeroniel-doliet · 3 years ago

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Turns out its a helluva mess when i start messing beyond flat colors!! Might be a sign to not do so much again (but yet .. practice to get to where im one day happy??)

Like ive done as much as i know how to do at this point in time to the portraits (still gratuitously bloody shame on me :') ) oh except for a background bc WHAT does one DO for a character shoulders up portrait background??? Settled for now on a gradient old school photo style lmao

I like the fix it one as is, a lot (but also i liked the lineart for the portraits better i think) and idk, imngonna try give it a light bit of shadows and lights, maybe step away from a lot of blending bc i think i think thats where i went wrong on the other one

Like, they look fine, but they also look. Meh. Like ive used too much blur tool (i havent, i tried using kritas wet brush thing and it looks....ok close up but the effect is no good when zoomed out like posting size APPARENTLY) and its all noncommittally washy.

(cont'd over thinking)

Am i gonna 'render' them a third time??? Do i have the mental strength?? Bc i think maybe trying for something not so, "realistic" could do me better, like a little more cell shady. But also i dont?? I dont know how to cell shade? I dont watch anime or cartoons v much and my style isnt that cartoony or clean lined?

Maybe on the fix it i can try a more....... Conservative and less blended shade/highlights? (And if i like it/learn smth new go back and re re do the portraits same style) I also just. Idk. How does one make it not look so. Flat and meh?? Im doing basic color stuff ok i think, ive got a bit of texture but its still? Eh???

Honestly i could just post them and move on but i dunno, i have the energy to problem solve a lil bit so why not?? (Not tonight. Im gonna sleep on this all)

Why post shit im not 100% proud of? (Ngl kinda been in the mood to take down that first sketch of the fix it bc it looks nowhere near as good as what i fixed it up to but ....... Ah fuck it i was happy w it when i did it so eh)

Why why why oh why is art so hard?????????

I wanna try and become one of those cool artists who post multiple fun things yknow, like u get inspired and can draw it beginning to post in one evening! Im probably way over thinking and pushing myself to some standard of unrealistic perfection i have for myself...

(also i like thumbnail doodled out like, all these things i wanna draw for a really nice fic i read and even after editing some i have like 8 bits i wanna draw?? 4 as like a mini comic bc i havent done one since i was a child and i think itd be kinda rad if i learned to draw short comics for fic scenes i like??? But yeah basically in one inktober post there would only be 5 ideas (a lil more complicated on average i do give for granted but like. Those took me WEEKS) but yeah i just. I wanna draw them. Even if itll probably take me for fuckin ever... (And i didnt even finish off the last two inktober batches, oh. And i have a uni thesis to do ew) .... I wanna push myself to draw faster (less iterations to get it right) and so i can have rly solid and good and quickly done drawings to then color in as i learn to for future?)

Ugh man. You know what i need to do/shouldve been doing before i jumped into coloring original stuff?? I shouldve done colored studies. Like ive been drawing scenes both from reference and original on the inktobers and i think thats why my drawing/character stuff has gotten decent. I really should just whip out like prettily colored movie screencaps and work on painting studies of them. That would really fix up why i cant figure out lights and shadows and blending in coloring! No horrid tutorials just figuring out how can i make it work for me

And you know? You know what it is okay to have pieces that are from before i figured it out right? Im gonna try a slightly different thing for the fix its (if i hate it, theyre good as flat colors too) and yes they dont have a background either please love of god someone tell me how to add random backgrounds bc im not in the mood of scene building further but they float in off white space atm.

If i learn smth ground breaking and can QUICKLY do a bette rendition of the portraits, sure the perfectionist wins. But maybe just maybe. It would be fine to post them as they are. Yea, they look roughly as lifeless as my first big painting/that dinluke poster redraw. And maybe thats okay. Because hi if i do dedicate to doing like a good few color focused studies of star wars scenes as a treat i can come back stronger and have a better piece???? Its about growth babes. YEA

Alright i said to myself thats it in gonna go sleep on it and continue tomorro but. I thought id slip in here a secret surprise for anyone unfortunate enough to have clicked read more... And i got a little whiplash opening the picture bc it looks. SO WRONG but the more you look at it its like ... Fine. Ok judge for urself and tell me pls, first and second attempts at 'rendering' the portraits (the darker bground was the first attempt just going by gut, the lighter one after trying to watch like 1 tutorial and using more brushes and just generally trying rly hard!!)

yes ive clearly fixed issues in the sketch differently in both so they... look... like different expressions?? idk man idk idk idk see now this small they look differently off!! god the curse of the zoom in and out and perception.

#art woes #but make it extra long because im DISTRESSED at not being able to just whip out ideas from my brain to page and it look good in one try #long and rambly and probably doesnt make much sense no pressure or expectation for anyone to read lmao #love yall kiss kiss time for bed itll be easier after sleep #did include a pic of current progress at the v bottom eheheheh

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snowbellewells · 7 years ago

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“Start of the Dance”

Here we go again, with another Captain Swan fic! This one takes place post-Season 3 finale, but parts of it have been in my mind ever since David’s dream sequence at the beginning of "The Tower" episode. I just had to find a way to fit the vision I had into a whole story framework. Anyway, I hope you enjoy. Please leave your feedback; it really does help and encourage so much! I still don't own them, just celebrating how much I love them!! Also, as I continue digging back through my previous fics for the #ouat fandom crescendo, I’ll try to have so man in one season, I just really loved Season 3 A LOT (clearly!)

(There’s a fair bit of David/Charming in this one as well, because it’s Captain Charming Friday, and I love Daddy!Charming… ;)

"Start of the Dance"

By: @snowbellewells (TutorGirlml on ff.net)

"Emma, it's okay. Don't get frustrated," David's gentle chiding, his light, guiding hand at her waist, and the humored light in his paternally adoring eyes put Emma Swan somewhere between wanting to laugh along with him at her own expense or growl at him in frustration. "Don't be so hard on yourself," he continued. "You're doing fine."

Emma squared her shoulders once more and blew out a breath, concentrating and preparing to start over again. It was all she could do not to roll her eyes and call him out on his blatant lie. She was not catching onto this easily at all – didn't know how many times she had already stepped on her dad's feet, kicked him in the shins, or gotten their legs tangled together and almost pulled him down with her. She might be a princess by birthright, but attempting a traditional dance for her first ball (of sorts) was proving that royal graces had not been born into her naturally.

She put her hands back out, rested them lightly where her father had showed her and tried to relax into the starting hold position, to let herself be led. At that, David's eyes took on a sort of lost, misty quality, and Emma pulled back, concerned, studying his expression. "What's wrong?" she asked.

The prince shook his head and blinked rapidly, as if clearing the dismal thoughts from his consciousness. He didn't quite seem able to meet her clear-eyed gaze, and when he did, the sadness and guilt within his gentle eyes caught Emma off guard. "I'm sorry," he murmured. "Lost track of where I was for a second…forget it…"

She wasn't buying that excuse for a minute, so when he glanced away, trying through a choked-sounding voice to begin counting time and leading her through the box step once more, she resisted and didn't budge. "Oh no," she said firmly, staring at him until he met her gaze, "out with it."

Her father's shoulders slumped, and his hand took hers, leading her over to the couch, which they had pushed out against the wall, clearing space in the living room of he, Snow, and baby Neal's loft apartment for their dance lesson. When they were seated next to each other, he squeezed her hand gently before releasing it and then running his own over his face and beginning to speak hesitantly. "Sometimes I just can't help mourning how much time with you we lost, Emma. At moments like this, my vision of how our lives would have been if you were always with us physically hurts. You went through so much pain. I put you in that wardrobe to save you…but in doing so, I sent my baby girl away to face a world alone. I failed you… Teaching you to dance now seems so ridiculously little to do in return…"

He trailed off, refusing to break down, but not able to keep speaking either. It went without saying that letting someone else lead and relinquishing control – which would make dancing so much easier for her – was difficult because of the life she'd had to live. Still that knowledge was there in the following silence, and they both knew it. That it was even harder for her to trust, to open herself, in relationships and in love was even clearer and more troublesome.

What Emma did offer at length, breaking the pained quiet between them with the best comfort she could give, seemed to bring a shaky smile back to his face. She grabbed his hand again, lacing their fingers together impulsively and holding on tight. There was steely strength in her eyes, but vulnerability too, allowing him to see a grown child's tentative hope. "What's done is done," she whispered hoarsely, holding his gaze with determination. "And I'm done dwelling on the past and being angry. I understand now the kind of impossible dilemma you were facing…and about loving your child enough to give a best chance. Henry taught me that." She swallowed convulsively and buried her face in the crook of his neck for a moment, then offered him a tremulous smile, trying for playful when she continued. "Besides, Dad, what did you tell me about living the moments? This is a good moment here. Despite my complete lack of skill, we're getting back one of those times we lost."

David nodded, hugging her with a hand cradling the back of her head in that way he had which made her feel like the cherished and protected child she should have been. "You're absolutely right," he agreed. Brushing a quick peck to her forehead, he stood and pulled Emma to her feet after him. "So what do you say, Daughter? Want to give this another try?"

She nodded with an almost shy grin. "I'm definitely not ready to dance in public yet, so we'd better keep at it."

Both of them were laughing as they began to move together once more, slowly but surely finding their way, both in the stately, measured steps of the waltz, and as father and daughter.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The night of their Storybrooke ball was as gorgeous as any enchanted tale could have spun. Though they were still in a small town in Maine in the modern age, having now been there, Emma could honestly say that the combined efforts of Snow, Ruby, Belle, and Blue had rendered the simple town park and pavilion into what looked for all intents and purposes just like the grounds of some fairytale palace. The wooden planks of the stage for outdoor concerts were freshly painted a pristine white and surrounded all along the sides, up the support columns and across the ceiling by strings of white twinkle lights and trailing ivy. Handmade luminaries lined all the walks with a welcoming glow. Ruby had even cajoled Viktor into producing a dj booth he'd acquired from somewhere and spinning music for the town's celebration.

Rumplestiltskin and Belle had married nearly alone in the woods, but when the others had learned of their news, the townspeople had wanted to at least have a reception. It seemed there was much to celebrate – not only the wedding, but the Wicked Witch's defeat, the young prince's birth, and in general, the town's survival of yet another catastrophe. These folks were, after all, from a magical kingdom which knew how to lavishly make merry and enjoyed traditional pomp and circumstance. The seemingly reformed Dark One and his beloved had graciously accepted their congratulations and recognition without too much argument, and Emma couldn't help being somewhat softened toward Henry's other grandpa as she watched him swaying gently with Belle in his arms on the dance floor, their foreheads touching, with eyes only for each other. Though she wasn't sure she would ever completely understand how, Emma was glad that Belle could see the good in her "beast", and that the other woman could encourage a dangerous and bitter man to find the true and honorable heart beneath his dark façade. She knew, deep down, that there were surely people in the town who thought she and Belle had much in common, who were unable to see what she had found in a vengeful, broken pirate either.

Her thought of Killian Jones caused her to look away from the happy couple opening the festivities with their dance and scan the gathered faces for her Captain. Just the thought of him as "hers" warmed her insides and caused the corners of her mouth to quirk up in a tiny, satisfied smile. She didn't see him anywhere and a small bit of worry touched her brow. Obviously, it wasn't easy for him to see his "Crocodile" so happy, the truce the two of them had managed notwithstanding, nor did she expect him to desire to toast the Dark One's good fortune, but she had hoped he would focus on the aspect of town revelry and her parents' joy at her younger sibling's arrival. She knew that David and Snow had personally made him welcome, and she herself had teased him with the opportunity to see her in regal finery for only the second time ever. There was no way she could slip off unnoticed just yet, so for the moment she could only hope he wasn't somewhere drowning old wounds with rum in stalwart silence – at least until she could go find him. He had certainly come after her and pulled her from grief and self-pity often enough… Still, this night was supposed to be for happiness and the future, things she had in large part due to his efforts. Killian deserved to be part of it.

She hadn't realized that the first dance had ended, a new song had begun, and that other couples were taking to the open floor, until her father appeared at her elbow. "May I have this dance?" he asked formally, a playful twinkle in his eye as he extended his arm.

Emma flushed, knowing that the moment had come, but also that they had a rather large audience and that over David's shoulder, her mother was watching them with tears in her eyes and a camera at the ready. She nodded, nerves evident, but took his offered arm tightly and let him lead the way, just as they had practiced.

Surprisingly, Emma found the rhythm more easily than she sometimes had in the past; her father's hand reassuringly steady at her back. The look on his face was priceless: loving, proud, and happy as they circled the floor, as agile as any of the other misplaced fairytale dancers around them. "I knew you could do it, Emma," he complimented her, the praising father who would recognize her talents and efforts clear in his voice – just as she had always wished for years ago. "You've mastered anything I have ever seen you put your mind to."

She couldn't help the single tear that escaped her eye and slipped down her cheek, but she shook her head slightly when concern crossed David's features. "No, don't worry," she managed. "I'm just happy – really, actually, happy." She let herself enjoy the moment, even leaning her head on his shoulder before whispering, "This is how it would have always been, isn't it?"

He nodded against the top of her head, and Emma felt her father swallow hard with his own emotion before he responded. "It is. I can't bring back what vanished in between, but…I can promise you that this is how it will be from now on."

She nodded, and they danced on in silence, the moment peaceful between them, all the words needed having already been said. Emma was oblivious to the reverent and intrigued gazes they were drawing – the Crown Prince and his Princess daughter sharing their first public dance at her first official ball. Charming and Snow's loyal subjects – now more friends – had welcomed and loved their only daughter as if she had always been with them, respecting her as if she had grown up a ruler in their world. This dance only cemented it, even if Emma was unaware.

The music swelled around them, Emma's joy bubbling within her and continuing to edge out the pain of her life before, the hurt she had finally begun to let go. True, she and her family were robbed of so many of the previous moments they should have been able to share, but this one, as her father spun her out once more and twirled her back into his arms, would always be theirs. She glanced up at him, perplexed, however when he pulled away to press a kiss to her forehead, then stepped back to place her hand within the grasp of someone standing behind him whom she hadn't even seen.

When David moved away, Emma found herself face to face with Killian at last. If her heart had not already been near to bursting, her pirate's presence was the final piece to complete her bliss. His leather had been exchanged for a fancier tail coat in deep forest green, a white dress shirt (still dangerously, seductively half-unbuttoned), and tan breeches – and Emma found herself melting at the sight of him. The effort he had obviously put in to blend with the other celebrants and belong was almost as overwhelming as his handsome appearance. She gave him a knowing look, realizing that someone, mostly likely her mother or Henry, must have told him the color of dress she would be wearing so that he could match.

Killian's gaze swept her up as though he intended to devour her in a glance, blue darkening from sky to cobalt at the jewel tone green covered with black lace sumptuously contrasting her fair, flawless skin and golden curls. "You are a bloody marvel, Swan," he murmured, even as he stepped easily into the place her father had relinquished, forming a perfect frame and twirling her effortlessly back into the dance as if he had been waltzing properly at formal balls all his life.

She was practically gaping at him, and she knew it, her breath short with stunned attraction. Sure, they had managed a simple dance to maintain their cover on their adventure in the past, but now they were themselves, he was holding her close, and they were moving as one with certain things having been spoken between them at last. This was altogether different… so much more. Killian chuckled lightly, touching a finger beneath her chin to close her open mouth. "I was not always a pirate, remember, Love? Naval officers do attend palace functions rather often."

Looking up at him mischievously from under lowered lashes, Emma finally regained enough of her composure to banter back. She smirked, speaking softly for his ears alone. "You must have been quite the charmer in your day, Lieutenant Jones," she almost purred.

"Must have been?" he questioned in mock offense. "Oh Lass, you can't fool me. It would seem you still find me quite charming in the here and now."

He dipped his head, breath warm on her face, mouth hovering just over her lips, making Emma's heart beat flutter erratically like a trapped butterfly attempting to escape her chest while he made her wait for his kiss. His grin was so smug that she wanted to wipe it off his face, but instead found herself having all she could do not to trip on her own feet and handle the shivers he sent skittering irresistibly down her spine.

With her True Love beside her, silently promising in every look and every touch to hold her, to match her step for step in every dance, for the rest of their lives, Emma no longer had to doubt that she would find her way. He eased her into a graceful dip, and she mutedly registered slight applause as the dance ended. Killian bowed to her, then pulled her even closer in his embrace as the next song began. She might be just learning to let someone else lead, but the feeling it gave filled her opening heart with hope.

Tagging a few who may enjoy... @kmomof4 @celestial-fire-writer @jennjenn615 @gingerchangeling @hollyethecurious @artistic-writer @winterbaby89 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @spartanguard @laschatzi @love-with-you-i-have-everything @kiwistreetswan @branlovesouat @capswantrue @pirateherokillian @flslp87 @lessawildmoon @rere105 @revanmeetra87 @ps1473-4

#ouat fandom crescendo #ouat season 3 finale one shot #cs canon divergent ff #daddy!Charming fic #cs fluff #bit of Captain Charming too

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