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thecourtscorkboard · 6 months ago

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Turnabout Memories (3-1)

For the first time, we're not playing as Phoenix: we're defending him on charges of murder in Turnabout Memories!

After a well-rested holiday break, we're back! 3-1 marked a cornerstone for the series going forward: multiple protagonists! This is the first case of the final game in the trilogy: are our memories of this case rose-tinted or is it better than we remember? Let's take a look!

THE CORE CAST:

Mia Fey: For the first time in the entire series, the main defense attorney for this case isn't Phoenix—it's the late Mia Fey, in her prime!

Phoenix Wright: Phoenix is an art student in college and the defendant for this case, charged with murder for the first—and as we know not the last—time in his life!

Winston Payne: We get a look at a young Winston Payne here, pompadour and all.

THE MAIN CAST:

Dahlia Hawthorne: Phoenix's girlfriend, a literature student at Ivy U, and a witness in this case, trying to get her own partner convicted for murder!

Doug Swallow: Yeah, he looks like he does. Jokes aside, he's our victim in this case and a fellow Ivy U student: specifically in pharmacology.

A BRIEF RECAP

Two men are arguing. One of them is telling the other to stay away from a girl, and the argument escalates with the one of them pushing the other to the ground: the camera pans up and we're met with the culprit... Phoenix?!

He looks like a Sim, doesn't he?

Trial, Day One

When we load into the case, we find that we're not playing as Phoenix: we're playing as Mia, of all people! That's right: this case takes place five short years ago, at the beginning of Mia's career.

Says the guy who sold out her mother...

Our co-counsel for this case is Marvin Grossberg: dressed in his Sunday best, I might add! When we finally get to meet Phoenix he's a stark contrast from his usual self—instead of sarcastic and a bit cynical, he's over-the-top and a little balls-to-the-wall like a certain Butz we know. He's got the mother of all head colds, it seems, but before we can really get into the conversation it's time for us to head into the courtroom.

Our prosecuting attorney for the day is Mr. Winston Payne himself: not looking too shabby, either, what with the pompadour and all. He's definitely a bit of a jerk in this trial, but he's more than willing to lay out the facts for us. Phoenix Wright allegedly killed another student named Doug Swallow, and students discovered Doug's body alongside Phoenix who allegedly bungled his getaway. Great.

The cause of death is rather strange, as well: Doug was electrocuted! Furthermore, there was quite a bit of bad blood between Doug and Phoenix due to Phoenix's girlfriend, Dahlia Hawthorne. Wait. Phoenix has a girlfriend?! ...Huh. Okay. Anyways, apparently Doug had warned Phoenix to stay away from her: and, according to the prosecution, died for it.

The first witness today is Phoenix himself.

He looks like one of those soggy cat pictures.

Phoenix testifies about his relationship with Doug. After saying that Doug was a quote-unquote "stuck-up British wannabe" (sounds familiar...) we get to press him for more information: Phoenix says that he knows Doug was a Teaboo because of the Union Jack on the back of his shirt. When we ask him how he knew this information, given that Doug was wearing a leather jacket... he starts crying! Mia rather hilariously tells Grossberg to let him cry as the "'P' on his chest doesn't stand for 'Phoenix' anyway!" Yeowch! Payne decides to dig Phoenix's grave a little deeper by asking him if he's taking medicine for the cold: Phoenix says that he's taking Coldkiller X, and a bottle of the stuff was found in Doug's hand: with Phoenix's fingerprints all over it! It's looking more and more open and shut by the minute.

Phoenix testifies once more: Doug called him to meet at the Pharmacology building at 2:45. Phoenix left at 3:00, with Doug still alive—and when he went back to see if Doug was still there, he found his body. As for the Coldkiller X, he lost his bottle around noon. We press Phoenix more and more and eventually learn that the Pharmacology department uses high-voltage wires for its machines. This must be our murder weapon: Payne praises our deductive skills but points out that there's more evidence in regards to Phoenix's guilt. After all, his palm print was found pushed rather roughly into Doug's leather jacket!

Phoenix admits that he pushed Doug, but that Doug didn't die when he pushed him. There was some sort of loud crack, but there's no way that this was the electrical wires: after all, when they had their fight there weren't any cables around.

ey b0ss can i habe acquittal plz

We press Phoenix for more information and learn that Doug fell on top of his umbrella. Now this is weird: there's no umbrella at the crime scene. But if he really did fall on an umbrella, then that leaves one conclusion. He had to have been pushed by Phoenix somewhere else! After he was pushed by Phoenix, he walked away! This blows a massive hole in Payne's case. He's not quick to give up, however, and says that the prosecution has another witness: Dahlia Hawthorne. Mia makes a mysterious remark that she's been waiting for this and His Honor calls a recess for Payne to prepare.

Phoenix tells us a bit more about Dahlia—they met eight months ago and she gave him a small heart-shaped bottle to hold onto. Every time she's seen him since then, though, all she's wanted is the bottle back. Weird, right? Mia suddenly asks if Phoenix met his Dollie on August 27. He says yes, and we drop a bombshell: that's the same day that a murder was committed in the courthouse! Grossberg goes down to the reading room to see if he can get some more info on this murder. Could Dahlia be the murderer in both of these cases...?

Regardless, court is re-convened and Dahlia is called to the stand.

This is the face of a person who will throw away every single limited edition copy of Berserk I own if I forget one thing about them.

Meet Dahlia Hawthorne, Phoenix's girlfriend. Yes, I was as surprised as you. After a few very awkward seconds of His Honor and Winston hitting on a 19 year old girl—and after that a very obviously rehearsed performance, including saying that Phoenix couldn't have killed Doug despite her coming out here as a witness against him—Dahlia begins to give her testimony about what she saw.

According to her own testimony, Dahlia says that Phoenix and Doug (or "Dougie" as she calls him, 'cuz all the bitches love me) were having an argument when Doug just sort of... collapsed. We press to proceed with cross-examination and Dahlia looks at us and gives us a very sinister "You haven't changed a bit... Mia Fey." It looks like we do have history together.

After pressing her for more information, Dahlia slips up: she says that she didn't hear or see anything unusual, which we know can't be true because of the umbrella that broke when Phoenix pushed Doug. Dahlia counters by saying she had headphones on and was listening to music. It was storming, you see, and she's afraid of thunder: and things start to fall into place. Remember that Doug died by a strong electric shock? Well, what if he was struck by lightning?! This is an incredibly spurious claim. But there's something backing it up: it was storming and we've already established that Phoenix could not have pushed Doug into the electrical wires at the chemistry department!

Payne quickly retorts, however. The prosecution investigated this possibility and determined that no lightning strikes were recorded at Ivy U on the day of the murder! Furthermore, the pharmacology building lost power at about 2:55 that day—the cables are definitely connected, then. But how did Doug get electrocuted if Phoenix didn't push him?

All in, baby.

We give an explanation for the power outage: it was caused by Phoenix shoving Doug. This did not kill him, though. The umbrella was found by an electrical pole, and Phoenix shoved Doug into the pole: causing the pole to shake and the cable to snap! This couldn't have electrocuted Doug, either, as the cable snapped too far away from the fight. We've now established that it was impossible for Phoenix to have electrocuted Doug!

Dahlia objects, stating that some of what we said is different from how she remembers it. Dahlia says that Phoenix pushed Doug twice: and the court's buying this nonsense! She says that it all occurred in less than a minute but we know that's not true. Doug was wearing a wristwatch that froze at 3:05 PM, when he was electrocuted. When did the pharmacology lab report its power outage? 2:55 PM—that's a difference of ten entire minutes! We grab the bull by the horns and posit that this is when the real murderer killed Doug Swallow. And who's the real murderer? There's only one person it could be: Dahlia Hawthorne.

Phoenix fights for his girlfriend's innocence but is grabbed by the bailiff. Mia rather hilariously asks him if he's "daft". Grossberg is back with the police report from the poisoning: Dahlia asks us why she would kill Doug and blame it on Phoenix. We ask for more testimony from Dahlia about the day she met Phoenix—the day of the murder in the courthouse!

I'm just sickened by you both in general...

Dahlia tells us that she met Phoenix in the courthouse and fell in love at first sight. Phoenix hilariously interjects himself into her testimony and His Honor has to threaten contempt of court. We press Dahlia about her new testimony, namely about why she came to the courthouse. She says that she was doing a research paper, but we know the true reason. She came here to poison somebody. After all, the formal suspect in the murder in the courthouse—which was indeed a poisoning, one as lethal as 2 teaspoons—was Dahlia Hawthorne! Even though Dahlia says that she had nothing to do with the poisoning, we've successfully linked the two cases together. Dahlia testifies about the poisoning case and says she wouldn't even know where to get a lethal poison.

This, of course, is a lie. After all, Doug was a pharmacology student! Dahlia had access to this special poison through him. The only person that could've poisoned the lawyer was the person sitting with him: Dahlia Hawthorne! There's one issue that Dahlia is eager to point out. 2 teaspoons is a small amount, sure, but you'd still need a container. Fortunately, we have such a container. The necklace that she gave Phoenix! This is why she wanted him to give it back! Dahlia's last line of defense is broken. Phoenix tries to stand up for her but it's no use. After learning the truth of the necklace, he runs out of the courtroom.

Huh. I just noticed her umbrella turns upside-down. Neat.

We later realize that Phoenix slammed into Mia and grabbed the necklace! The bailiff managed to catch him, however, and Phoenix is brought back to the courtroom where he tells us he...

...ate...

the necklace. The necklace with the poison in it. The poison for the lawyer, the poison specifically made for the lawyer, the lawyer's poison. That poison. Mia calls for the trial to immediately be stopped so Phoenix can be treated for poisoning: but Payne says that the poison would've already killed him by now, therefore the necklace couldn't have had any! Our case is donezo, isn't it?

Phoenix, however, stands up for us for once. He says that the argument he had with Doug was about Dahlia: about how she stole poison not once, but twice! Once eight months ago, and once last night. Dahlia was crouched down right next to Doug's body after Phoenix went to check on him, too! Dahlia stole the poison to kill somebody: Phoenix himself.

Dahlia drops her façade and belittles Phoenix. Tearing apart our case as baseless speculation (which, to be fair, it is), we're asked by Grossberg himself to stop to save our reputation as a lawyer. We manage to grasp at the thinnest of straws, though! If Dahlia really wanted to kill Phoenix, then where would she put the poison? He has a very nasty cold, so she'd of course put it in his cold medicine. Remember! Phoenix lost his bottle of Coldkiller X around noon. After poisoning the bottle she found Phoenix and Doug arguing, and killed Doug to silence him. Dahlia tries to call out our explanation as being conjecture and Mia coolly tells her to take a pill if she's that confident. Dahlia doesn't. What about Winston? Nope.

Dahlia is finally defeated, hoist by her own petard on the cold medicine.

Probably one of my favorite sprites in the game.

After Dahlia's arrest, Payne is still unable to accept our claims. We dare him to try some cold medicine and he's so shocked about his defeat that his hair flies off, glorious pompadour gone with the wind.

Bald! Bald! Bald! Bald! Bald! (MY EYES!)

After the trial, Phoenix thanks us for our help. He says that he's made up his mind: he's going to really shoot for being a lawyer. Mia's performance in court has made him double-down on this path, given that there's an anonymous friend he's determined to save. We wish him luck and part ways... for now.

In a brief epilogue, we get a monologue by Phoenix talking about this trial. Apparently something's happened that has caused these memories to resurface. In any case, this ends Turnabout Memories!

What Really Happened?

Everything started right before Dahlia met Phoenix. She had been behind the murder of another person in the courthouse, and met Phoenix there. Pretending to be smitten with him, she hoisted the bottle she used to poison this other person on him as a "gift". The two began dating, with Dahlia constantly requesting the bottle be given back. Phoenix kept it, however.

Determined to get the bottle back from him, Dahlia concocted a plan to kill Phoenix by poisoning his cold medicine. Doug Swallow caught wind of the plot, however, and warned Phoenix: Phoenix, in disbelief and anger, pushed Doug into an electrical pole. This snapped both the cable and Doug's own umbrella. Doug and Phoenix walked away, but Doug loitered around the area. This gave Dahlia a new opportunity. Doug knew what she had done and she knew that he was the type to tell, so she grabbed the electrical wires and murdered Doug with them.

Playing the part of a mourning friend, she planted the poisoned cold medicine in his hand to frame Phoenix who later stumbled upon Doug's body and was arrested for his murder.

THOUGHTS

I do not like Turnabout Memories very much. It's a case with a weak mystery, weak structure, and a weak ending surrounded by weak characters.

Speaking of: Phoenix. Or "Feenie", as the fandom lovingly refers to him as in this case. God, I can't stand him. He's so fucking annoying. In many ways this just straight up does not feel like Phoenix: and I get that's the point, to show how different he was before and after meeting Mia, but he's so fucking obnoxious that after only a few lines of dialogue into the case it's hard not to want to punch him. He's my least favorite defendant in the entire trilogy by an incredibly wide margin: every moment with him on screen is, and I hate to use this adjective, cringey. He feels very very very out of character, and while I'd understand this to an extent he just feels so far removed from who Phoenix is as a person that it's really hard to suspend my disbelief.

The actual case is remarkably... okay. I think the conclusion is very anti-climactic, even though it's a pretty cool gambit on Mia's part. A time gap of ten minutes is a little hard for me to believe, alongside electrical cables snapping that easily (seriously, how poorly-maintained is the pharmacology lab if somebody can break in twice to steal poison and electrical cables will snap if you shake a pole slightly?), but I like the setting. Doug is a cool victim and while Dahlia isn't really my cup of tea she's a perfectly fine first villain, especially for what this game does later. It's very cut-and-dry, and while I get it's a first case it just feels very lame. It has a cool introduction and a neat defendant twist, but in practice it falls flat in a lot of areas especially near the end.

Being able to play as Mia is really cool, and I like how done with everybody's shit she is. Winston is at his best here, and His Honor has a decent showing as well. Grossberg is probably the best character from this case, honestly. He's a very strong co-counsel and it's really interesting to see Mia actually working for him when we know that he's the reason her life was ruined: it's a really nice bit of dramatic irony that I wish we got a bit more of throughout the series.

What did y'all think about 3-1? I've seen a lot of conflicting opinions on it, myself. It's not nearly as polarizing as 1-5 or 4-4 (more on 4-4 later), but it's still got a fair share of both detractors and fans.

We'll be moving on to 3-2, The Stolen Turnabout, next time: a new case, a new prosecutor, and an old attorney! See you then!

Final Rating: 3/10

FAVORITE LINES

"Let him! That 'P' on his chest doesn't stand for 'Phoenix' anyways!" - Mia Fey, after pointing out the first contradiction

"Yeowch!! Wh-Why did you punch me in the jaw!?" "Oh! I-I'm so sorry...! I just felt like hurting someone all of a sudden!" - Marvin Grossberg and Mia Fey, after Phoenix starts talking about Dahlia

"It feels like my hemorrhoids are doing the Harlem Shake!" - Marvin Grossberg, showing off his impressive knowledge of Filthy Frank lore

(Well, we know whose milkshake brings all the boys to the yard...) - Mia Fey, about Dahlia

"What the...!? Are you daft!?" - Mia Fey, after Phoenix tries to defend Dahlia

CASE RANKINGS

Turnabout Memories (3/10)

#ace attorney #phoenix wright #trials and tribulations #mia fey #dahlia hawthorne #case discussion #case review

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steviestits · 2 months ago

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WIP Weekend

Sorry for making you guys wait over a month for this! Everything kept breaking and I also got Apollo Justice and Miles Edgeworth for my birthday, so I may have fallen back into the Ace Attorney fandom! I would die for Miles Edgeworth. He’s a bitch but I love him!

Anyway, you know the drill. Send an emoji from the list below and I’ll write three sentences then post them for everyone to see! Send as many as you like. There’s no limit!

Steddie

🛁 dystopia spa au

🐙 mad scientist mer au

😈 succubus pet au

🦇 urban legend

⚜️ Eddie’s new concubine

⁉️ Steddie Big Bang

Wrightworth

🤡 Miles Edgeworth runs away from von Karma and joins the circus (Lion King au, sort of...)

📝 Bratworth adopts Kay after Turnabout Reminiscence

🫵 No DL-6 high school au where Miles trains to be a prosecutor under Bryne Faraday

🔮 Miles is Misty Fey’s son and was taken to Kurain after Gregory died then secretly goes to Ivy University au

Snippet from WrightWorth no DL-6 high school au

Setting his bag down at his workstation next to Miles, Phoenix surveyed the room. He saw Larry sleeping against his easel at the back of the class, but Miles said it wasn’t him when Phoenix asked at dinner, so he looked at their other classmates. Most of them were girls, and though Miles never told him, he gathered that he wasn’t into them, not when he had actual pin-up posters of the Steel Samurai on the walls in his room. The other guys in their class didn’t seem to fit the ‘stupidly endearing’ trait either. Well, all except...

Phoenix’s eyes fell on Larry again. Did Miles like him? He said that the person he liked was stupid yet endearing, which could be Larry since he was pretty damn dumb ninety percent of the time. Phoenix wouldn’t say his traits were endearing, more annoying, but maybe if he had a crush on Larry then he wouldn’t see it that way.

“Can you believe him?” Miles huffed, pointing at Larry. “How is he in the same grade as us?”

Miles was always doing that, complaining about how annoyed he was with Larry. There wasn’t any reason for Miles to hate Larry so venomously, not one that Phoenix could think of anyway. It had to be the opposite then. His best friend had a crush on that stupid, ugly hanger-on! Usually, Phoenix wouldn’t describe Larry in such a hateful manner, but it pissed him off that somehow that shitshow had captured Miles’ attention and Phoenix didn’t.

“Why are you always so focused on Larry?” Phoenix shot back before he could stop himself. “It’s always ‘Larry this’ and ‘Larry that.’ You’re not his mom.”

If looks could kill, Phoenix was certain he’d be dead from the glare that Miles was giving him right now. Miles’ face turned a shade of red that Phoenix had never seen before as his whole body seemed to shake at the mere mention of him giving special attention to Larry. Phoenix belatedly realized that he’d crossed a line.

“You may not realize this,” he said, the anger in his tone palpable, “but there’s a saying about your friend. ‘When something smells, it’s usually the Butz.’ He will slip up one day, and when he does, I’ll catch him.”

“Catch him how?” Phoenix tried to prompt. “Catch him how!?”

#ask game #on new meds #will answer tonight or tomorrow morning

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this-bard-cannot-sing · 7 months ago

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The Worthy

Chapter 4 - The Kiss

Read Chapter 3 here.

Masterlist

Summary:

"Halt!" said the druid priestess, "No outsiders past this point." The priestess took in their ragtag party, but her eyes lingered on Wren. "Especially, Drow. Get back!"

Gale felt anger bubble in his chest at the woman's comments. Before he could leap to Wren's defense, Wren growled, "We need a healer. Let me pass."

"Careful, druid. She has--creative--ways of getting what she wants," drawled Astarion. Gale noticed him gingerly touch his still-broken nose. The blood on his face had now faded to a ruddy brown.

Warnings: racism, slow burn, angst, AFAB main character, graphic violence, swearing, sexual themes, anxiety, seizures

Pairings: Gale x OC

Author Note: This fan fiction follows the exploits of my OC, Wren, a Drow barbarian raised by fey and caught up in a nautiloid invasion. This story takes place during the events of Baldur's Gate 3. This chapter is a reimagining of the group's time in the druid grove and meeting Wyll.

________

"Gale, behind you!" shouted Shadowheart.

Gale turned and saw the goblin leap off the boulder and into the air. He landed on Gale's chest and knocked him to the ground. "Oof," huffed Gale.

The goblin cackled and pulled a knife from his belt and raised it to strike at Gale's belly. Gale raised both his hands and yelled, "Arde!" Fire flickered down his arms and into the face of the goblin. The goblin screamed in pain as his rat-eaten armor was engulfed in flame. He leapt off of Gale and ran off, trying to find a puddle, pond or pool to douse himself in. Gale quickly stood up, knees aching, to take in the battle raging around him.

Goblins and bugbears roared their battle cries and attacked anyone in the clearing outside the druids' grove. Shadowheart stood on a ledge hurling her deity's power at unsuspecting enemies. Astarion fired arrows out of his twin hand-crossbows and hit every mark. Lae'zel swung her great sword and cut the head off of a warg, blood spilling onto the parched earth. Gale spotted the Blade of Frontiers hurling eldritch blasts at a group of goblins trying to scale the gate to the druid's grove. Wren was nowhere to be found.

"Wren?!" yelled Gale.

"Heh, you're mine, little wizard."

Gale turned and saw the biggest bugbear he had ever seen marching towards him. His muscles rippled and he twirled his knocked and battered short sword. Gale prepared himself to cast Ray of Frost when the bugbear suddenly sprouted a silver horn.

Not silver, thought Gale, steel.

Blood poured from the wound from Wren's war pick. The bugbear at first looked confused, then reality seemed to dawn as he finally collapsed and his soul was lost to the Fugue Plane. Wren appeared several feet behind the dead bugbear. Her leathers were stained with blood and sweat shimmered on her blue brow. Gale felt his breath catch in his throat and his pants grow uncomfortably tight.

Oh dear, thought Gale.

"Are you alright?" asked Wren. She walked towards the bugbear's corpse and ripped her pick from his skull with one fluid motion. Gale could not keep his eyes from every flex of her muscles under her leathers and every rise and fall of her chest as she panted from the exertion of battle. "Gale?" she asked again, concern bleeding into her voice.

"Wha-uh yes, I'm fine. Thank you. That bugbear would have been the end of me," said Gale. He brushed off his robes and turned away from Wren, hoping she wouldn't notice how flushed his face was. Across the clearing, Astarion sliced the throat of the last goblin. They had won the battle.

From atop the gate, a tiefling yelled, "Inside, all of you! More may follow!"

"Let's go," said Wren and she squeezed Gale's shoulder before jogging towards the gate. Gale followed, with the rest of their companions close behind. The giant, ivy covered gate raised just enough for them to pass through. The Blade of Frontiers brought up the rear and the gate closed behind him with a thud. Everyone leaned against the gate wall, catching their breath.

"Well fought. Those goblins came out of nowhere," said the Blade of Frontiers. Gale had heard tales of the young hero, even in Waterdeep. He was known as a guardian to travelers and small folk, alike. It was quite fortunate he was also at the grove. Even if he is a warlock, thought Gale.

"Same, warlock. Tell me, do you have a name?" asked Lae'zel. She sheathed her great sword and adjusted her silver armor.

"I'm called Wyll, who are--" said Wyll when an incredible pain ripped through Gale's head. The other companions doubled over in pain as well. Suddenly, visions of Avernus filled Gale's mind and he felt himself running through the fiery landscape. I've never ran through the hells, thought Gale. In the vision, he could see a she-devil clad in ripped and charred leathers running away from him. The vision suddenly ended and the pain ebbed. All the companions breathed a sigh of relief and looked at each other uncertainly.

"What in the hells was that?" asked Wren.

"Hells, you saw that too?" grimaced Astarion.

"You saw that? Then, you must have parasites too," said Wyll as he rubbed his temples. Gale's chest clenched. Telepathy is a symptom of mind flayer infection. Time is running short.

"You were on the ship too? Were you taken in Baldur's Gate?" asked Wren. She looped her weapons onto her back and crossed her arms in front of her chest.

Wyll sheathed his own sword and sighed, "No, I was hunting in the hells when I hopped aboard the ship to chase my quarry. Mind flayers got to me before I could get to her."

"Then, you know we are in need of a healer," said Gale.

"Aye, it is why I came to this grove in the first place. But, I'm afraid things are more complicated than what meets the eye," said Wyll. He tilted his head in the direction of the path leading deeper into the grove. Gale turned and saw that the tiefling who urged the party into the safety of the grove was in a heated argument with one of the travelers ambushed at the gate.

Gale saw Wren's keen eyes narrow. "What is their problem?"

"I'm afraid the druids are none too happy at having so many visitors. You see, the master of this grove, Halsin, welcomed a large number of tiefling refugees. They were in need of shelter after suffering many dangers on the road. However, that bloke there," Wyll points to the human arguing with the tiefling, "Is a treasure hunter and was wanting to loot a nearby goblin camp. Halsin went with him and so did any kindness these druids possessed. Since the master of the grove left, many of the druids want the tieflings gone. They think it's their fault the grove has been attacked in recent days. The goblins outside are the most recent invasion force."

Gale saw Wren's brow crease with concern as she observed the tiefling and human arguing.

"Well, we've got bigger problems. Does this place have a healer?" asked Shadowheart. Lae'zel scoffed behind her. The Githyanki had made it very clear that only her people knew how to remove a mind flayer parasite. Gale knew her people had a long and violent history with the tentacled beings, however he wasn't willing to risk his life, and his companions for that matter, on the hope that an army of brutal warriors would help infected outsiders.

Wyll's eyes narrowed in disappointment at Shadowheart's icy response. "Well, I heard tell Halsin was their best healer, but he did have an apprentice. I was going to find her when the goblins attacked."

"Then, let's not waste any more time," said Gale. Wren stood across from him and nodded. They lead the way through the grove. Gale marveled at the majesty of the ancient place. A massive cave loomed ahead of them and housed a statue taller than even his own tower in Waterdeep. Nature and civilization melded perfectly. Plants creeped along stone walls. Passages led to small hovels and wooden huts filled the space. Gale snuck a glance at Wren and saw the tension in her shoulders had eased and she wore a small smile. This must feel like home.

Milling throughout the caves and pathways were tieflings of all hues. Gale spotted a young tiefling wizard arguing with two other tieflings. He walked past a group of tiefling children learning how to defend themselves. He noticed one tiefling child separate from the others, silently watching over all the comings and goings in the grove. He had yet to see any druid.

"Where are they? The druids?" asked Gale.

Wyll pointed towards a pathway that led under a great stone arch carved with the likenesses of birds. Through the archway, Gale could see a circle of druids chanting to an intricately carved statue. He couldn't make out the words, but he could only assume the statue was of Sylvanus. There were many tieflings standing around the entrance to the holy ground. They were clearly not welcome. Three guards--two humans and a gnome stood sentry over the entrance. Wren approached the guards.

"Halt!" said the druid priestess, "No outsiders past this point." The priestess took in their ragtag party, but her eyes lingered on Wren. "Especially, Drow. Get back!"

Gale felt anger bubble in his chest at the woman's comments. Before he could leap to Wren's defense, Wren growled, "We need a healer. Let me pass."

"Careful, druid. She has--creative--ways of getting what she wants," drawled Astarion. Gale noticed him gingerly touch his still-broken nose. The blood on his face had now faded to a ruddy brown.

The druid priestess looked between Astarion and Wren warily. "I--I mean it! Force my hand, and I'll show you it's claws!" At this, the man beside the priestess roared and shapeshifted into a fearsome bear. Gale saw Lae'zel and Shadowheart put their hands on their weapons in alarm. Astarion just rolled his eyes, clearly not impressed. Wyll stepped forward to stand between the druids and the tieflings. Gale had never fought a bear before, but he would much rather not find out what that experience was like.

"Excuse me, priestess," said Gale. Wren pulled her red gaze from the druids to stare at Gale with confusion. Gale patted her gingerly on the shoulder as he stepped between her and the druids. He heard Wren huff behind Gale in frustration. "We are in need of a healer. Now, before you insult my lovely companions again, I think it wise to let us pass. Once we have met your healer, we will leave in peace."

The druid priestess kept staring at Wren in anger and fear, clearly not hearing Gale's pleas. However, the gnome beside her did and reached up to get her attention. "Ahem, Jiorna. Perhaps, Kagha should speak with them? They did protect the grove after all."

"Wha-what? Oh," said the priestess Jiorna, shaken from her thoughts. She looked back at their party, giving one last lingering glance at Wren behind Gale's shoulder. "Fine, Kagha awaits inside," said Jiorna and she pointed towards a cave near the back of the clearing.

"Thank you," said Gale, "Oof!" Wren had shoved past him and marched forward towards the cave. Gale reluctantly followed, rubbing his shoulder where Wren had pushed him. What did I do?

Wyll caught up to Gale and said, "Well done. That could have been a blood bath. What's your name?"

"Gale," said Gale. He was still staring at Wren's back as they walked towards the cave. The tension had returned to Wren's muscles and even though she had resheathed her picks, she opened and clenched her hands as if she wished she were wielding them.

"Well met," said Wyll. He walked ahead to follow Wren into the dark maw of the cave. Gale followed suit and found his eyes struggling to adjust to the darkness after being in the sunlit forests all day. He stumbled on some unseen rock and nearly fell face forward into the dirt when he felt someone catch him.

"Careful, Gale," said Shadowheart.

"Thank you," said Gale. He let out a frustrated sigh. He lost sight of Wren, but his mind was still filled with thoughts of her. Why did she shove me? I was trying to keep us out of another fight."

"This is precisely why I hate attachments," said Shadowheart. Gale looked to his left. He could now faintly see Shadowheart's face in the darkness as they continued deeper into the cave. He thought he was adjusting to the darkness, when really it was just the faint glow of torches up ahead that improved his vision.

"What do you mean?" asked Gale, trying to feign innocence.

"Ugh, you know what I mean. Focus, or you're going to get yourself killed," said Shadowheart. She released Gale and followed the others into the cave. Giggling echoed off the walls as Astarion caught up. He had clearly heard what Shadowheart had said. Gale glared at the uppity elf. Astarion was clearly not intimidated because he straight out guffawed as he passed by Gale. Lae'zel brought up the rear of their party and urged Gale to keep moving.

He followed the soft glow of torchlight deeper into the cave. He felt the floor gently slope beneath his feet. Then, the floor turned into primitive steps. The steps led into an aquifer. Ancient cave paintings adorned the walls and the water shimmered in the torchlight. It would have been a peaceful place if it weren't for the sobbing of the tiefling child standing before a group of druids. Wren was already standing before the druids, her voice raised.

"You're imprisoning a child? What is her crime?" asked Wren. The tiefling child shuddered and let out another sob.

Standing before Wren was an elegant wood-elf with flame-red hair pulled into intricate braids and rolls. She wore robes adorned with what Gale thought were vines and flowers at first. When he caught up with the party and stood behind Wren, he realized that the vines were actually serpents. A rustling on his right caught his attention and he turned to see a massive viper staring at the small tiefling child before them. I don't like this, thought Gale.

"She eats our food, drinks our water, and steels our most holy idol in thanks," said the druidess. The tiefling child shifted, her eyes darting in every direction. Gods, she's going to run.

"You call yourself a druid? Is this what Sylvanus wants? The blood of an innocent child feeding his holy grove?" asked Wren. She stepped closer to the druidess.

One of the other druids, a man with a rack of antlers adorning his head pleaded, "Please Kagha, she's just a child!"

Kagha only had eyes for Wren. Gale saw the elf take in the Drow's features. He could see her distaste flash across her face. But then, her expression changed to uncertainty when her eyes rested on Wren's piercings. He couldn't blame her. It was one of the first things he noticed about her. She had bear claws dangling from each of her blue ears. Along her brows she had small pieces of copper, as if they had melted into her skin. Gale enjoyed how they would glimmer in the sunlight. But here, in the flickering torchlight of the cave, they created the illusion that Wren's eyes were aflame with rage.

"Per--perhaps you are right," said Kagha. She turned towards the viper coiled next to the child and spoke to it. The snake reluctantly acknowledged her command and wrapped itself snugly around the elf's leg. "Go, child. Tell others of my mercy--and my fury."

The child gasped in relief and ran as fast as she could out of the cave. Gale saw Wren's stance ease a bit.

"Forgive me, but it has been many years since I have seen the markings of the Firbolg in these halls. How did a drow come by these?" asked Kagha. The other druid looked at Wren's face. His eyes widened in wonder.

"I earned them when I earned my name, like all firbolg," growled Wren.

"If only we had firbolg in our grove now, to protect us from these devils and the monsters they bring with them," said Kagha. She looked at Wren pleadingly.

"Any firbolg would welcome weary travelers into their home. They would shame you for how you are leading this grove," spat Wren.

Anger flashed across Kagha's face. "What do you know, outsider? We have been beset by all manner of beasts and villains since these devil-kin arrived in our grove. With Master Halsin dead, it falls to me to lead this grove."

"But Master Halsin--" interjected the antlered druid.

Kagha turned her venom on him and hissed, "Keep his name off your tongue, less Tiela pierce it!" The viper wrapped around Kagha's leg mimiced it's master. Kagha turned back towards Wren. "I will complete the Rite of Thorns, and this grove will be protected. All the tieflings must be gone within seven days, or the viper must strike." At this, Kagha abruptly left and retreated down one of the paths leading to the separate chambers in the cave.

"Well, she's a joy," smirked Astarion.

The antlered druid remained. He collapsed onto a stone bench, defeated. Gale approached him. "We need a healer, do you know of one?"

The antlered druid looked at Gale with tired eyes. He nodded and pointed towards a chamber where a stone wolf looked down from its plinth. "Through there. She was--is--Halsin's apprentice. She might be able to help," said the druid. Gale said his thanks and the party proceeded into the chamber. I thought I was the only thing ready to explode--this grove is a powder-keg. Gale could sympathize with the druids' protectiveness over their grove, but he also understood the tiefling's plight because it was so similar to their own. They need the druids' help if they're going to survive in this wilderness, let alone survive the tadpoles in their heads. It was clear from Wren's reaction that the druids and firbolg who raised her would not have agreed with Kagha's judgment. Perhaps that is why she is so angry, thought Gale.

Inside the chamber, Gale found a dwarf healing an injured bird. The dwarf was focused on her task and had not turned to welcome them. "Give me a moment," she said. She uttered her healing spell and the bird perked up, flapping its wings gingerly. "What is it you needed?" The dwarf wiped her hands on her robes and took in the visitors before her. Gale noticed that the dwarf looked uneasy when she saw Wren.

Everyone looked to Wren to speak, as she seemed to be the one taking charge. However, she was speechless. Oh no, thought Gale. He stepped forward, careful not to touch her. He glanced at her face and saw the panic roiling underneath her stoic demeanor. She made eye contact with him and the fear in her eyes turned to pleading. Then, Gale felt the familiar tingle of the tadpole in his skull and Wren's voice echoed in his mind without the drow ever moving her lips. Please, said Wren, I lost my voice again.

Gale's face softened and nodded. These tadpoles are helpful, at times. He turned towards the dwarf and asked, "Are you Nettie?"

The dwarf nodded, "Sure am, are you in need of healing? I'm not as skilled as Master Halsin, but I do what I can. What ails you?"

Every member of their party shifted uneasily. "Uh, well," said Gale. He thought of how best to say what their predicament was. We've been impregnated by mind flayers. Ew, no. That makes it sound so much worse. He decided to keep it simple, "We have tadpoles in our heads."

Nettie's eyes widened in terror. "Tadpoles? Mind flayer tadpoles? All of you?"

Gale saw Wren nod and the rest of the party followed suit. "Can you help us?" asked Shadowheart.

Nettie's eyes shifted from each member before her. Gale thought she might bolt and raise an alarm, but instead she said "I'll do what I can. Follow me." Hope bloomed in Gale's chest. He looked to Wren and saw a modicum of relief in her eyes. He walked alongside her as they followed Nettie to another side chamber. Just as Lae'zel stepped past the threshold, the stone door rumbled closed behind her. Gale felt his stomach clench. Something's off.

"Tell me your symptoms," said Nettie while she rummaged amongst bottles and dried herbs on a stone table. It appeared Nettie had led them to the infirmary. Laid out on a stone slab was a dead drow. Fear that wasn't his own flooded his mind. He looked to Wren and saw that she was staring at the drow, eyes wide in terror. Nettie turned back around and followed their gaze. "Ah, yes we found him in the woods. Attacked me and Master Halsin. When Master Halsin killed him, a tadpole wriggled out. That was a few days past. We've been studying other victims, but couldn’t find where they were being infected. Master Halsin wanted to follow the adventurers in the hopes he could find the source."

"Did he? Find the source?" asked Gale. He stepped closer to Wren, hoping his presence would help calm her.

Nettie shook her head. "He never returned. Others think he's dead, but I don't think so. If anyone can find a cure for this, it's him."

"Are you kidding me? We fought through a swarm of goblins just for you to tell us that the one person who could help us may be dead? Ugh, this keeps getting better, and better," complained Astarion, his hands on his hips.

"I'm sorry," muttered Nettie. She shifted between each foot. Gale's eyes narrowed in suspicion. What's going on?

Quick as a cliff panther, Nettie pulled something from her robes and struck Wren on her exposed throat. Wren's reflexes were too slow and the object left deep scratches on her blue skin. Droplets of blood started to leak from the scratch. Wren stumbled back and the party drew their weapons.

"Tskva! What was that?" yelled Lae'zel, her great sword pointed at the druid.

"I'm sorry! It's the only way," frowned Nettie. She moved to attack Astarion next. Astarion raised his blades, ready to kill the druid when Gale cast Sleep and Nettie's eyes rolled into the back of her head and she collapsed to the cave floor.

"What are you doing? She's trying to kill us!" yelled Astarion.

"If we kill the druid, we bring down the entire grove upon us and those poor tieflings. We need to get out of here, quietly," said Gale. He turned his attention back to Wren. She stood silently with her hand against the bleeding scratches on her throat. He gently clasped her wrist and removed her blue hand so he could better see the wound. Whatever Nettie had in her hand left three thin scratches on Wren's throat. "Are you alright?" asked Gale. Before Wren could answer, Wyll interrupted.

"Shit," cursed the warlock. Gale turned to look at Wyll while still holding Wren's hand. Wyll was crouched over the sleeping druid. He gingerly picked up a twig covered in thorns from the ground. He held it up for the others to examine. "This isn't good," said Wyll.

At that moment, Gale felt Wren's hand tremor in his own. His head whipped around to look at her and found her entire body was beginning to convulse. "Wren!"

Before he could catch her, Wren collapsed to the cave floor. Her body writhed in agony. The red pupils of her eyes that made Gale's heart flutter disappeared as they rolled into the back of her head. Gale leaned over her, gently holding her face in his hands. "Wren! Stay with me, Wren!"

"Out of the way!" shouted Shadowheart. She pushed Gale off of Wren and began to examine her. She pulled down the collar of Wren's leather armor and revealed dark, black tendrils spreading from the scratches on her neck. "She's poisoned!" Shadowheart rested on her knees and prepared herself to pray to her deity. If anyone can heal her, Shadowheart can, thought Gale.

"Stop! It won't work!" warned Wyll. He still had the twig gingerly pinched between his thumb and forefinger.

"What do you mean?" asked Gale.

Wyll held the twig closer for Shadowheart and Gale to see. "This is no ordinary twig. This is Kelemvor's Kiss. I've seen these plants growing wild in the forests. It is the deadliest poison in Faerun."

Gale's heart sunk. He had read about Kelemvor's Kiss. Those exposed to it always died. No antidote, no elixir could combat its toxins. Tears welled in his eyes as he watched Wren's body wracked with pain.

"No," muttered Gale. "No! We must try! Shadowheart, cast your spell," ordered Gale. Wyll looked at Gale with sadness in his eyes. Shadowheart looked between the two of them, then turned her attention back to Wren.

"Vix medicantrix," intoned Shadowheart. Healing magic flowed from the cleric's fingertips and into the scratches on Wren's neck. Gale could see the blood dry up and the scratches knit themselves back together. But, the convulsions continued.

"Hells," whispered Astarion. The pale elf watched as Wren continued to writhe on the floor, his eyes wide in fear. How could the healing spell not work? Thought Gale, Not even a god can save her?

"What we need is time," said Gale. "If we could get somewhere safe, slow the spread of the poison, perhaps we can make an antidote."

"You heard the warlock," said Lae'zel. "She might as well be dead already."

"You cowards!" shouted Gale. His sudden outburst rattled them. Shadowheart avoided eye contact. Lae'zel crossed her arms across her armored chest, her face hardened into anger. Astarion looked down at his feet. Wyll stood up a little straighter, looking down his nose at Gale. "You would let her die, the woman who ripped you from your pod," said Gale to Shadowheart. "The woman who welcomed you into our camp." He looked at Astarion, who at least had the courage to stop looking at his feet and look into Gale's accusing glare.

"He's right, we have to try. I can help, if you'll have me," said Wyll.

Gale grasped Wyll's shoulder and gently squeezed it, grateful for the support. Gale glanced at the other companions and saw determination in their eyes. He quickly leaned down and cupped Wren's face between his hands. Her body was still wracked with spasms and her eyelids fluttered. He placed his lips as close to her ear as possible and tenderly whispered "Sleep." He felt the Weave crawl through his veins and into his fingertips. A soft pink glow haloed around Wren's head as the spell took effect. Gale wasn't sure this would work, but he had to try. As the pink glow faded, Wren's body began to quiet. Her muscles relaxed. Her eyelids stopped their fluttering and gently closed.

"Gods, it worked," whispered Shadowheart.

"Her spasms have stopped, but I'm afraid the poison still moves in her veins. We will need a scroll of slow to buy us time," said Gale.

"Ok, let's gather all the potion ingredients we can find and get out of here," said Wyll. The warlock started searching through Nettie's baskets and boxes, careful not to wake the sleeping druid. Shadowheart stood up and went to assist him.

"Ugh, give her to me, wizard," said Lae'zel. Gale looked up into the Githyanki's eyes and saw she was serious. He stepped back and the scrawny warrior easily lifted the sleeping barbarian onto her shoulder.

"Astarion, I need you to find a scroll of Slow. Search the druid quarters, tiefling camp, everywhere," ordered Gale.

"Excuse me, do you take me for some sort of thief," asked Astarion, disdain edging his usual drawl.

Gale looked the pale elf up and down in his soft leathers, supple boots, and the multiple daggers Gale knew were hidden on his person. "Yes, that's exactly what I took you for," said Gale.

"Tsk, how dare you," scoffed Astarion in mock affront. He smirked at Gale and nodded. He would do it.

Shadowheart and Wyll returned to the rest of the group, their packs filled with dried herbs, vials of various liquids and tools for potion making. Gale exchanged glances with each of his companions. They would only get one shot at this. Gale motioned them forward and used magic to unlock the stone door. It rumbled as it opened, revealing the main chamber beyond. The party quickly stepped through the doorway before Gale shut it behind them, concealing the sleeping Nettie. She should remain asleep until someone wakes her. Let's hope that's not for a long while.

He followed his companions through the caverns. He tried using the tadpole to communicate with them. Slow and steady. We must make it out of the grove. He could see his companions were startled by the psychic intrusion, but they made no comments. Gale glanced across the chamber and saw Kagha talking with the antlered druid while looking at a map spread across a stone table. Several other druids sat throughout the chamber, reading or preparing food. No one took a second glance at their peculiar party with a slumbering Drow slung over a githyanki's shoulder. Perhaps leaving Nettie's chambers unconscious was a common occurrence, thought Gale.

They reached the stairway that sloped up towards the entrance. Astarion broke away and slipped down a side tunnel to search for the spell scroll. Mystra, aid his search, prayed Gale. Wyll grabbed a torch and led the way through the darkened paths until sunlight shone from the entrance. The party walked a little faster, eager to be out of the heart of druid territory. Gale cautioned Lae'zel, Don't jostle her. She'll wake and the pain will begin again. Gale heard a grunt in response, but she did as he said. They were now standing in the ritual space, the drone of druidic prayers and spell casting surrounding them. Wyll and Shadowheart led the way toward the arched entrance. The guards saw them coming and moved out of the way. The druid priestess stared at Lae'zel.

"What potion did Nettie give her?" she wondered aloud.

Everyone breathed a little easier once they were out of the holy ground and surrounded by tieflings. As they begun to round the corner and head towards the entrance to the grove, an alarum sounded behind them.

"Someone hurt Nettie!" shouted a druid. Gale's face paled. He looked everywhere for a way out, but as far as he knew, there was only one way to escape the grove--the way they came in. He heard a bear roar behind him and footsteps getting closer.

"Ow!" exclaimed Gale. A rock had flown out of nowhere and hit him in the shoulder. He turned to find the culprit and found a young tiefling boy looking up at him. Before he could admonish the youth, the boy grabbed his hand and dragged him towards an outcropping of rock. The boy reached into a crevice in the stone and revealed a secret passage. Gale's eyes widened in surprise and hope was rekindled. "Lae'zel! Wyll! Quickly!" he rasped as he motioned for them to follow him. He and Wyll took the slumbering Wren from Lae'zel so she could crawl into the passage first. Once she was secure on the ladder leading down into the passage, they handed her Wren again and she heaved her back onto her shoulder. The two disappeared down the ladder. Wyll was next, then Shadowheart. Gale quickly followed and the small boy slammed the door shut behind him. "Thank you," yelled Gale through the thick wood. He could faintly hear frantic footsteps on the other side where they had just been standing. He breathed a sigh of relief.

Gale slowly descended the ladder into the cavern below. When his feet hit solid ground, he took in his surroundings. Gigantic stalactites dangled from the ceiling. Sunlight shone through multiple holes in the cave, giving the space a warm glow that the druid cave was lacking. He couldn't see his companions, but heard the buzz of voices coming from further in the cave. He followed the sound and found his companions hovering around a sleeping Wren while ten, no twenty tiefling children peered at them from behind rocks and from makeshift bunk beds. One tiefling, however, was not shy. She stood before them, hands on hips. An eye patch covered one of her eyes and delicate gold filigree decorated one of her horns.

"Word has it, you pissed off the druids," said the tiefling girl. A devious grin stretched across her face. "Whose hand do I have the honor to shake for that?"

"Hers," said Shadowheart, pointing to the unconscious Wren. "We need your help."

The tiefling girl looked at Wren. "What do you need?" she asked.

#bg3 #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #gale x oc #baldur's gate 3 #drow oc #wyll ravengard #astarion

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lime-ether · 2 years ago

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Ivy: Creo que necesitamos apagar Internet por un tiempo. Para que este "anon" no nos escriba 🤔

-w- pos no c

#comics #ivi #ivy #ask #anon ask #ask me anything #ivi and fey #dead people

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shirkshingatumadre · 2 years ago

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Why is Ali afraid of the big kind fey?

Because it turns out that Fey looks a little (a lot) like a guy who... I can't give much information about him because that would be a spoiler... But I can say that he was a Big son of a bitch with Ali.

Anyway Ali Have Traumas.

#boneheads #ali #oc art #dead people group #oc #ivy #Fey #ask ali

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basicallyjaywalker · 2 years ago

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For the ask game >:3 ✂️❤️

🎨 I know you have OC’s but I know embarrassingly little for being a mutual this long. Hand them over rook :)

Edit: I forgot to say hi 😭 sorry I saw you mentioned OCs and literally just. mind blank got the zoomies started stimming forgot my manners. Anyways

Hello Oli :DDD

One thing I would change: I mean. I would rewrite a lot of the series but mainly I would wanna give Nya a more prominent and starring role early on. Let her have more Samurai X moments and quit putting her on the sidelines while the boys do things!!

Favorite ship? Canonically Pixane ngl. I love Jaya but Pixane is soulmate coded for me I break Jaya up at the drop of a hat for funsies I feel bad breaking up Pixane.

Do I have OCs? You're goddamn right I do I have wayyyyyy too many. I'm working on character sheets for the main ones now but until those are uploaded have a taste!

Nataly Chumsworth: Master of Love, half Serpentine, menace to society. If the name did not clue you in she's Pythor's daughter and they have. A relationship.

Roxie Andrews: Master of Peace, local stressed out mom friend, former student at Marty Oppenheimer's! Old friend of Cole's and someone i imagine Nya being besties with.

Jasmine Bucket/Julien: Master of Nature (secondary: Ice), engineer at Borg Industries, made before Bolobo I swear. Zane's half sister but neither has any clue about that yet

Jackie Fei: Master of Magic (I have a whole system set up for this), chronically tired and depressed but gets to have a glow-up, chaotic good incarnate. My favoritest little blorbo ngl

Hannah Stone: Master of Music (different from sound and again swear she was pre-S4), punk rock girl, Chen's former... student is not the right term. Embodiment of that one audio: "they got their weapon, I got cheated out of my childhood)

Kyle Stone: not an elemental master but a former member of Chen's cult kinda (born into it), instead of masking his trauma with anger like Hannah he masks it with bubbliness, chronic overprotective disease. He and Hannah aren't blood related but they're also the closest thing to family each other has

Master Twyla: Master of Light, the teacher of these fucking kids, trying her best to keep the memory of the former EMs alive. Bops her on the head this bad girl can fit soooooo much trauma she's trying to overcome in her, goddamn

Ivy Crest: Master of Wind except not fully until S5 (thanks Morro), Morro's bio daughter and Ronin's adopted daughter (bet you can't guess who she prefers), expert in forgery and shit at mechanics. She and Nya form a close bond in S5 and Nya continues to try and teach her mechanical stuff (it does not work)

Luna McCallister/Garmadon: Master of Dreams, long lost Garmadon daughter who?, big fucking nerd. I have no idea when she and Lloyd realize their related but it makes their interactions at the comic store beforehand a lot funnier (for reference: she is about 2 years older than him)

Jonathan Borg: heir to Borg Industries, curious about the supernatural elements of Ninjago, knows about something he probably shouldn't. His place is not fully figured out yet but I feel like he's gonna start wanting to prove more useful after S7 to mixed results, esp bc his sister is way cooler than him

Willow Whispernight: yeah check back later chief I am reworking her ENTIRE lore lmao. Currently also connected with nature in some way and Jasmine's step-sister

Ahahaha that isn't even all of them. it's been over a decade I am soooo normal. I do not have *checks notes* approximately 20 OCs, named and unnamed, with various places in stories and development

#ty oli!!!!!!! always glad for an excuse to talk about the gals (and guys)#ask game #oli tag

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navycat305 · 1 year ago

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hello this is only slightly terrifying but I wrote something for the first time and posted it publicly so here it is

Will also put it under the cut :)

It’s not until a week or so after the case that it catches him, like a thorn snagged in the material of a jumper, one that you only notice when it pulls you back, sudden and sharp as you hurry along. He’s flicking through his contacts, checking he’s got all the important ones he needs for mundane things - insurance, and his landlord, and the landlord for the office. The reset was inconvenient, sure, but it wasn’t horrible, not like the two small marks on his upper arm that Maya likes to bump against her own a little too gleefully whenever someone mentions the name Manfred von Karma. He’d have to track down Larry again, which could take months given the guy’s talent for doing multiple things on a whim without telling people between the somewhat brief times they met in person. There are still no names under the tab marked ‘E’. That hasn’t changed.

It’s only when he gets to ‘M’ that he stops. Thinks, briefly, until it sinks in. There is only one name under it that he has re-entered, and that is Maya Fey. He’d known it without asking her, a remnant of every single time he’d stared at the number between December and April, finger hovering over the call button until he’d inevitably sigh and turn away to other things, clients, business, who knows what else. Sometimes he’d talk to Charley about it, then panic when he remembered that he couldn’t recall how long it had been since he’d last watered him.

He supposes that it’s hard to remember everything when you’re building back up from nothing. Hell, he just went through amnesia, of course he should understand that. Still, it doesn’t hit less hard when he realises that he hasn’t put any other names under ‘M’.

He remembers when she gave him her number, still hacking up nothing every so often and wheezing a little in odd moments that made conversation awkward. “To ensure that you stay out of trouble,” he recalls her saying, with that wry smile he’d come to know whenever she teased him. He didn’t really consider it at first, rushing around in a daze and picking up as many projects as possible, opening commissions, auditioning for the university’s summer play, heck even reading the paper for one of the first times in his life, enough that it meant he wouldn’t have time to slow down and start thinking again. His grades had never been better, and his professor had just invited him to exhibit one of his paintings in Ivy’s annual art show at the end of the semester.

That’s why he’d been busy in the art room, the afternoon sun lazily stretching through the skylights on the top floor of the building and gently warming his face each time he looked up from the canvas. He hadn’t read the article until a couple of days after it released, when it had found its way onto the floor in ripped sheets slightly stuck together with paint. That’s when he’d started thinking again, pacing up and down the halls until someone stuck their head out of their room and told him to be quieter, even though he hadn’t said a word. He’d looked at his own room with fresh eyes, seen the mess piling up in the middle instead of pushed to the corners as usual. His phone was on the desk amongst pencils, paints, a disembowelled sketchbook and a half-eaten chocolate bar that somehow hadn’t yet melted in the heat. He’d picked it up, taking a moment to recall her name, finding it there in all its clinical length: Mia Fey (lawyer).

Before he knew it, he’d hit the call button, mouth dry. Heard her voice after two rings, surprisingly quick at hiding slight confusion and just as friendly as it had been months ago. Asked her what he should do if he wanted to take the bar.

“Do you ever feel weird about still being able to talk to Mia?” It’s a stupid question, one he must’ve asked her so many times before. It has been a year, although they both know that doesn’t matter. He’s still staring up at the ceiling when he asks, so he doesn’t have to look at her and feel bad about bringing it up.

It doesn’t work, and he watches her out of the corner of his eye, fiddling with the limited edition Steel Samurai strap around her pink cell phone. “I mean, I guess. It’s weird that it’s Mia.” Her voice is level, but she also avoids his gaze. “I don’t know. It’s always been a thing.”

He can’t remember the last time he texted Mia, or called. He supposes that Maya had to do it more often, being two hours away by train, while he was only a bike-ride from her for several years. Digital communication for them was smaller things, preludes to the uncountable meetings at restaurants, the courthouse or simply the old, battered couch in the office, where they’d pour over papers or chat over shitty coffee. Did she ever think, he wonders, of faraway Maya when she sat opposite him all those times? He reminds himself, after a while, that he can ask. He doesn’t know if he wants to. “Still can’t get my head around it.”

Maya laughs softly, tired. “Most people can’t.” The sound of the air conditioning whirrs as they ponder it. “To be fair, you didn’t question it too much. I was surprised sis didn’t tell you earlier. But it kinda makes sense given that it has literally nothing to do with the law.” They both know that isn’t true, which makes it easier to leave unsaid. Makes him wonder what else Mia never bothered with.

“Sorta like she’s a phone call away, if you want to look at it like that,” he grunts. Maya hums, a strange sound that shifts. She starts to speak, then stops again.

“Like a phone call from the mountains….incredibly unreliable and hard to reach, but not impossible.” He snorts. “I always hated calling her from that phone booth. Usually Morgan was outside, glaring at me for about thirty minutes ‘cuz I’d spent too long in there. It was harder to find cell service though, so I kinda had to deal with it.”

He doesn’t have an answer to that, which is fine. He suspects that she’s happy for him to listen without comment. That is, until she offers it to him candidly for the first time. “I can channel her properly next time we’re in Kurain, if you want. Can’t get any worse than last time.” He thinks of the phone number he can’t remember, of the weight that still hangs over him, the feeling that the office is still hers after so long.

“It’s alright. You don’t have to do that.”

The prison is nicer than he thought it would be, especially after the several visits to the detention centre he’s now had. They let him in surprisingly quickly, and there’s not much waiting before she’s led out to see him, or at the very least stare at him from the other side of the glass.

“Mr Wright,” Lana greets him, much more warmly than he is used to. She seems a little confused at first that he should come to see her after all has been said and done, but she is still kind. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

They chat a little, about his recent cases and how she’s adjusted, the most recent time she called Ema two days ago, all the way in Europe, beaming with pride at her progress in school and forensics. Once again, the similarities don’t help. She can tell that he’s tiptoeing around it. “You want to ask about Mia, don’t you? We do have all the time we need now, after all.” But first, she asks how Maya is doing, and laments the fact that she's never met her properly. This surprises him. She laughs.

“She wanted to keep us separate, I think,” she muses airily. “Like two cats being slowly introduced to each other between a door, or something similar. It seems odd now I suppose, but it was very different for her in Kurain.” He still can’t reconcile her, so strong and full of cheek in the smart black suit, with a spirit medium in something Maya would wear. He can’t ever imagine her being pious - that’s a stretch too far. Lana smiles as she sees him try. “She used to tell me sometimes, about the village. Very rarely, you understand. Mostly she tried to make me forget that she was anything other than an LA native. It was frustrating for her a lot of the time.”

He wonders just how much Lana knows of Mia; what that ‘intellectual attraction’ had wrought from her. He can parrot her inflections, cheerful and serious, repeated every single trial: the only time a lawyer can cry is when it’s over. He’d never seen her cry at all. How long had she waited?

He asks her for Mia’s phone number. Lana repeats it automatically, and they stare at each other in silence. He lets it dissipate into the air, and watches the tiredness ebb into her eyes for the first time since he’d seen her in the defendant lobby before the last trial. There is nothing more to be said.

He still offers to get Maya to channel her. She looks more like the Lana he is familiar with when he does, with her February face that masks the pain. Her refusal is polite, and she thanks him for his consideration. He tells her he’ll come again soon, and hopes he means it.

Life goes on. He muddles through beside Maya and Pearls, taking a few small things on here and there for the money to fund an insatiable appetite for burgers. There’s been no progress on his contacts since August, nothing new to blindside him as it usually does. He watches the girls leave, once a month, each time the ghost of an offer to accompany them flailing before it gets very far. He sees Pearly’s shoulders slump when they return, and the way Maya bites her lip when she thinks nobody is looking. The days are getting longer.

“You should really get a new phone, Nick,” Maya says suddenly on one of those unremarkable evenings. Pearls is asleep on the couch, still with her coat on, and his heavy eyes envy her this small moment of peace, telling him he should’ve been asleep an hour ago. He turns around for a blanket instead of answering. “You’ve had that thing for, like, forever.”

It’s not that he’s putting it off. There’s not an issue with it really. Sure it’s still the first one he ever got, but there’s nothing wrong with that.

She sees him when he turns back to lay the blanket over her cousin and shrugs. “Just a suggestion. Fresh start, y’know? Didn’t you say that Wellington smashed it up a bit when he tried to get it back from you?” He shushes her and points to the sleeping Pearly. She makes a face back, but slips into a frown not long afterwards. “You said you were considering getting a new one last December, that’s all.” She gives a little gasp when it catches up to her, just as he stiffens. Doesn’t stop him when he walks out of the room to bed, wordless.

He doesn’t get up for several hours, and she burns next morning’s pancakes to show she is sorry.

“G’morning Nick,” Maya greets him groggily as he enters, breaking from her tussle with some wrapping paper and scrunching up her face in a yawn. “Do you know how to wrap presents?” He nods, kneeling down to take her place above the large set of coloured pencils, slowly reaching for the tape. “Is it too much? Or not enough? Aunt Morgan never did anything, so-”

“Maya,” he says, monotone with exhaustion, “it’s fine. It’s good, really. She deserves a nice Christmas and you’re giving her one. There’s nothing much more you can do. I’m proud of you.”

“Really?” He stops folding the corners of the paper. Her shoulders shake slightly against him, warm, until she springs up again, hastily swiping at her eyes with her sleeve. “Hey, I got those circus tickets too! I can’t believe we’re going to see Maximillion Galactica!”

He turns the wrapped present to her and she gives him a thumbs up. It is nestled under the little fake tree Maya had insisted they get while at the mall a week or so ago. He’d just been planning to drape some lights over Charley, but now the miniature conifer sits on a spare table with a few small decorations picked out the same day while the old Cordyline stricta twinkles half-heartedly in the corner. Maya babbles about a Christmas display downtown as he blurs the lights and leaves with his stare.

Larry had called sometime around 2am, that stupid ringtone that Maya had picked out for him blaring into his ears and startling him awake. The man had barely even regarded his grudging answers, all in a tone begging him to take a hint. He’d heard the muffled sound of club music interrupted by faraway feminine laughter, and hung up before Larry managed to slur that he loved him one more time. He squints through the dark at the numbers of the digital clock and feels a creeping sense of defeat at knowing he’ll have to take a nap later.

He grins a little guiltily when he only catches the tail-end of Maya’s reminiscences. “I asked to go every year after that, but…,” she sighs, and he puts it together far too quickly.

This is not the first Christmas without her, nor will it be the last, for either of them. But when was there time to stop and think on that grey day a year ago, something within him asks. After all, they were so busy that he, at least, had nothing left to give. The only thing he needed was answers, a real adult to sort the puzzle pieces and put the edges together. She had only ever been an echo of a message left while he was on another line. He makes a mental note for them to find their way downtown later, after the main rush of the day is over.

“Oh, I got something for you too, Nick!” Maya is handing him a small, rectangular box that she has managed to badly attach some paper to. “If it helps, I see it as another way to stick it to Morgan.” It’s heavier than he thought it would be, and he automatically cups it in his palms before registering it. He peeks back the wrappings and lets them fall from his fingers almost as soon as he does.

“Maya, I can’t take this.”

She huffs a laugh. “Of course you can, stupid!” His face does not change. Hers does, rapidly, flickering through several different things and eventually settling on lightheartedness. “If you weren’t going to let me pay rent, I had to do something!” She reaches for it and lifts the lid off, rifling through the assorted ephemera until she finds it, shiny and new, and waves it at him. She drops her arms, and her smile, when he continues to stare.

“Nick. Take it from me, old guy. You need a new phone. That thing can’t still be working properly.” He has no answer to give. The corners of her eyes crinkle with frustration, and she stands up at full height, all of her 5’1 to his 6’0. She’s almost glaring at him, mouth set in a thin line. “You can't wallow like this forever. Not for Pearly,” she swallows, “and not for me either. They’re gone.” It’s as soft as she can make it but he still flinches, tightening his grip over his pocket.

“I’ve broken so many rules for us, you know that? Calling Mia whenever we need her, outside of the candles, and altars and shit. We do that stuff for a reason. Because it’s just once, or twice, in order to help people find peace. Closure. And I can’t do that here. So I’m doing what I can.” She squints at him, fingers tangled tightly and voice trembling. “It has to happen, Nick.”

She raises her arms, holding out the phone, the glowing orange 4:59 of the digital clock morphing into 5:00am. He grasps it, fragile. He can hear her breathing, determinedly steady. Then, a sigh of relief as she tackles him by the waist.

“Thank you,” she whispers. He holds her tightly and swears again, for good measure, to never let her go.

He shuts the box in his desk drawer amidst the nest of paper and happiness scattered around the living room hours after. Maya and Pearls lie sleeping on their mattress, curled into one another after a day of delight and exhaustion in equal measure. He tiptoes around them to make it to the couch and pinches his brow with two fingers, staring at the drawer like he can see through it. He runs his fingers over the scratched buttons on his old reliable and tries to hopscotch Mia’s number aimlessly, without success but also, to his surprise, without staggering remorse. Hopes Maya can be content with his acquiescence, that he will be able to set it up sooner or later.

Yeah, he thinks, watching the girls - his girls, his and Mia’s - breathe in tandem with one another, a soft smile falling onto his face. He can do that later.

(Later, he will get a call from Maya that Maximillion Galactica has been arrested from murder, and find himself knee-deep in another incredulous case that doesn’t feel entirely real.)

(Later, he will be phoned by a smooth-voiced killer that leaves them fighting for their small existence and digs into his very core with each successive ring until there is nothing he can fight with anymore.)

(Later, he will limp from the courtroom while Pearl clings to him, hand her to a concerned bailiff and throw his phone on the ground so fiercely that it breaks into uncountable fragments, in both anger and relief.)

(Later, he will pass the new phone to Maya and she will gasp in delight and pick out the same old Steel Samurai ringtone that has bothered him for the last couple of years, and he will not change it.)

(Later, he will find a contact under ‘E’ and call it over and over again. As time goes on, it will move to ‘M’.)

(Later, Mia will stop answering Maya and Pearl, and he will be okay.)

But for now, there is peace. He closes his eyes, perhaps imagining that faint outline of the Chief in front of him just before he does. His phone slides from his hand and onto the cushion beside him. There is one contact under ‘M’. It is enough.

#ace attorney #maya fey #mia fey #phoenix wright #ace attorney justice for all #lana skye #original post #mmmm this is scary sharing writing is weird

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wulfrann · 2 years ago

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10 Fandom, 10 Characters, 10 People

Thanks @moondal514 for the tag!

Rules: name 10 of your favourite characters from 10 different fandoms, then tag 10 people to do the same

This is an impossible task so I'm filling this up with how I'm feeling right now, impulsively, without thinking about it too hard. Ask me tomorrow it would be different. Also the order is arbitrary and means nothing.

1) Edward Elric from Fullmetal Alchemist

THEE original gender envy. The boy. I thought I wanted to be with him when really I wanted to be him. and kiss Winry. Manga of all time. What else is there to say.

2) Ellana from the Ewilan & Marchombres Series by Pierre Bottero

She's the best Marchombre that ever was. She writes poetry. She's hot. She has claws. She is my childhood hero and role model. She is the best Bottero character ever. I am in love with her.

3) The Biologist from The Southern Reach by Jeff VanderMeer

I don't know her name and I don't care. If the first tome wasn't from her perspective I probably wouldn't have been so invested. I would never want to fix her because whatever's wrong with her is way more interesting. I wanna go look at tide pools with her even though she'd hate that because she'd much rather be alone.

4) Joy Wang from Everything Everywhere All At Once

Honestly choosing just one character from this movie is impossible, but Joy telling her mother that she's just tired is Top 10 moments of cinema that made me burst into tears. Also: she's gay. Also: she's depressed. Also: what a fucking icon. Also: her costumes.

5) Dean Winchester from Supernatural

Choosing between him and Castiel is fucking impossible but I had to follow my heart of hearts and if I had to choose I knew I had to make this choice. It is very cringe of me to shun THEE gay angel like this and I am very ashamed of myself but he would agree with me, so. I had to. Dean is simply too deeply unwell in such specific ways that I cannot resist the brain worms. Although, without destiel? He would be nothing to me.

6) Captain K.P. Hobb from Dimension 20: A Court of Fey and Flowers

Tragic furry goblin man. His pathetic devotion to a court and its values in spite of their being drastically at odds with his honorable and rigid nature has bewitched me.

7) Fi Carmichael from Planetes by Makoto Yukimura

Everytime I re-read the arc that's centered on her and her family I sob like a little kid. Also she almost died to prevent a terrorist attack just because she wanted to smoke a cigarette.

8) Cliopher Mdang from the Lays of the Hearth-Fire by Victoria Goddard

Kip my best friend Kip. He invited the Sun on Earth, God-emperor of the world, to take a vacation, and it changed the fucking world. Number one most epic secretary ever. He has 50-something cousins. I want to be invited to one meal with him so bad, I just wanna talk to him like for 5 minutes, I know he's the busiest man in the Empire and also he's not real but like. Pretty please.

9) Sam Gamgee from the Lord of the Rings

THEE holder of hope for the whole trilogy. He's in gay love with Frodo and he can't carry the ring but he can carry him. I wish to kiss his forehead.

10) Andrew Minyard from All for the Game by Nora Sakavic

It's really hard to pick one character from this insane series but I mean. I had to.

Tagging: @aoquesth @lackluster-violet @poetic-ivy @planavarium @polzkadotz @newbornmoon @svnroom @cupcakedyke @herobrineawakening @makebelieveanything

#again this order is simply the order in which i thought of these #this was. so hard.#so many good stories i didn't pick a character from bc i simply could not #i'm sure in like two days i will think of some blorbo and regret not including them. but alas.#it's been so long since i actually answered to a tagged post like this! this one was really fun thx moonie <3

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seeingvivianne · 2 years ago

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"Atropos and her sisters chose you, in the entirety of the cosmos they named you Oracle and ta’veren.” Practiced as the sovereign was, she was still young, and all that the world had placed upon her was unfair and heavy. The gods loved their spectacles and their suffering, none and Oracles least of all were immune to this. “You’ve seen it, haven’t you?” Elysium’s fall, the death of heaven and the ichor of the gods as it rained down upon the fields of flowers. Thanatos knew it too. “You have a choice to make.”

Long ago, an Oracle sat across a human woman that had violet eyes and raven hair. She saw the way the woman looked towards a nearby child, his pointed ears and the laughter of childhood as this young fey with flowers in his hair chased his butterfly with the human children. When she looked away and asked her question, the Oracle told her that her womb would not bare fruit. Time moved on and Eden fell. That laughing child with pointed ears survived, that child had children. These children lived their lives in the care of their Queen. But sand travels and the ocean is not so easily restrained. One of the children left to love a mortal and traded his home in the sands of the Otherworld for the gardens of Babylon and the love of a halfblooded child and his mother. The child's children carried with them the stories of magic and wondrous worlds passed down. Fairytales. Thousands of years and a descendent fell for a witch in the lands of Sparta. Hundreds of years later some stories survived and one son of the bloodline was born on the shores of modern Cuba, a young witch with stories from his mother and unrestrained ambition running through his veins. The child collected everything, the child dreamed of power and the child became a man. The man found a woman just as power hungry as he. The man had taken too much, done too much, and he lost himself. The woman that had carried his child for 9 months only held her in her arms long enough to know that this daughter, this little girl, would have to die for her.

Decades Later

There was near no one left, only witches that had hid, mothers and fathers that had sacrificed themselves so that a few children might live. The Dahlia was broken, more broken than how Silas had once left it. Their home was in ruins and the few scattered witches looked to their Sovereign from the rubble, all of them coated in gore and dirt but none more so than Vivianne herself.

(tw: teenage suicidal ideations) Once upon a time, she had decided it was the end - a teenage girl with little hope that life would get any better. She hoped to take a risk and absorb magic that would either kill her or make her strong enough to lock Silas away forever, holding on to an artifact stolen from their Reliquary. She remembered how Kaleisha Moretti, Sovereign of the Ivy, took the artifact and told her how the strongest flowers bloom in adversity. How her son, Virgil, gave her a little smile afterwards. She remembered how much she wished they would take her away with them. But instead she thought of those she would be leaving behind if she went: Abel, Marco, Serissa, Avery, others she saw as aunts, uncles, cousins, nephews and nieces and family. Marisol, who had tried so hard to be the mother she never had. Vivianne remembered how she realized it would be the very same if she died that day. And if magic had corrupted Silas so terribly, if she didn't die perhaps she might as well have. Either way, the path that she almost took was one that would have abandoned all those who had ever cared for her. (end tw)

Vivianne heard Thanatos' voice in her head and she saw the gentle look on his face. Pity from death. The next time we see each other one of us will die. It’ll be you, or me, her brother had murmured. The Sovereign looked towards the horde of monsters and swarms of death just a few miles away from where she stood on the rubble and she thought of the pill within her bag. She could do it. She could go there, kill them all and make their corpses her grave. There were tears in her eyes as she looked instead to one of her witches comforting a crying child. She thought of how she'd done the same for Marco so long ago. She thought of him, then of Abel. Abel. Abel who had always been so adamant that Vivianne do anything to take care of herself, anything to ensure that she always made it through what life threw at them. Abel who was always at her side to hold her up. Even now that she was gone she swore that he stood there at her side in some way. She knew what he would have said if he could have.

Swallowing down a sob, Vivianne turned away from the few witches and walked away - down the stones and rubble. She walked down though her legs ached, her trembling arms coming around her as though it would help keep body from falling apart. Live, whispered a part of her. Live. Hope had always kept Vivianne afloat, hope for this world. She had known too much love in her life to give up on the world. In the end, it was that love which overpowered the pain and had brought her back from the brink in her youth. It is that which she tried to call upon now. Because Vivianne didn't want to give up, not really. There were so many who wouldn't have wanted that for her, all these souls that had given her strength throughout her entire life that she owed everything to.

She thought of that dream in the night and Michael's grin, both their soft laughters and the sound of music all around them. Or the reality of how how she had urged him into a dance during Beltane and the way dirt stained his hands in his garden outside Rome. She thought of the little tieflings, Alastor's tired face as he smiled at them. Tears ran down Vivianne's face as she thought of the vision of a happy world for them. The future changed constantly, not even that was set in stone. But what was that if not a little thing worth fighting and living for? She had to believe there were still some out there that were alive, those children, maybe even Michael. And even if they were gone - how many other children like those tieflings still lived? How many souls like Michael that still wanted the same thing he did? Marisol still loved; the Reaper was still gentle and kind no matter how many deaths she had seen. If August was truly gone, whether his soul or his very existence by now, Vivianne also didn't know. But their family was stubborn. If he had fought to the very end for what he believed in, as horrible as it was, his sister could as well.

So giving up could not be an option. For the sake of those that had loved Vivianne and who she had loved so fully in return, she would find the strength to seek a world where they might have lived happily if they were still alive. As long as Vivianne drew breath, she owed it to them to keep their memory alive. As long as she still had something in this life, her final gift would be to try to build a legacy from what they left behind. There was a pounding in her heart that signaled she was alive, air that rushed through her lungs as she reached down into a side pocket of her waist and dug out a tiny canister. It opened at a word from the witch. Within, the pill from Marco was gone. The Flower of Pharmakis that August had given her had seemingly withered and died. But her eyes watched as it crumbled to black ash. Vivianne found herself reaching into the ash, pulling out a new flower. Fresh, dark as the night sky.

Black like ink. The Oracle was reminded of her mother's blood, the dracaenae's dead body under her own. Black blood that covered Vivianne's hands, had splattered even to her mouth. Black blood that was August's own blood and how it covered him too and how she wanted to cry to see him like that. She would not be disgusted by the dark any longer. There could be no day without night, no light without dark. If she became a monster, the monster would not be her mother and it would not be her father either - neither one of them, not Rafael nor Silas Dahlia. This dark thing in the witch's hands was her only hope now. She would make it work for her as she murmured a spell and watched it dissolve into liquid in her hands. She lifted her cupped hands and drank from the petals, taking all the black liquid as she thought of the dark night sky in that dream, how she'd laughed under it with Michael by the fire. Everything went black.

The blackness turned to color. The Oracle dreamed of a laughing fey child in Eden and she dreamed of so many strangers. She dreamed of Allegra, holding a newborn August in her arms as Erik beamed with pride. She dreamed of symbols, of languages long forgotten and before Vivianne woke up she saw a woman with golden scales.

#study ✧ (honey and wildfire are both the colour gold.)#aesthetics ✧ (still you stand; sturdy and smelling of smoke.)

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