#fading to violet (patch 4.4 4.5)

[witchofthescions]

Tataru made me a whole dang outfit! Look at how cool it is!!

She also commissioned a real cool weapon for me, but I was too excited to show off the outfit to get any pics of it. I'll have to show it off later.

[bookkeeperofthescions]

🥿🥿 [[ ballet slipper— with only one word, describe how you feel at this moment ]]

Pink Asks

Overworked @_@

[sageofthescions]

change: Has your OC ever drastically changed their appearance? Significant haircuts, big tattoos, complete wardrobe swap, etc? Why? How do they feel about the change?

Character Design Questions

((He's gone through a couple wardrobes already, and he's about to get another Whole New Wardrobe soon.

The looks that he's had so far:

He stuck with the first outfit pretty much until the end of the Dragonsong War arc, whereupon Nidhogg kinda stomped on him hard enough to damage the outfit and necessitate a new one lmfao

Something else that's not really reflected in my character sheet (which I've been meaning to fix) is his hair. Pictured above in both views is his original (short) hairstyle. After Haurchefant's death, however, he started growing his hair out a bit, largely because Depression™️, and now his hair is a little bit longer. And looks a bit more like Haurchefant's hair used to.

This shot used in that one selfie and the associated icon is probably the best shot I have of his current hairstyle.

And this is a quick side-by-side(ish) comparison of his starting hairstyle and his more current one.))

[bookkeeperofthescions]

Oh Alphie's absolutely terrified of the things! And apparently has been since he was little, according to his sister and a former classmate. >:) Though I'm... concerned, now. Don't tell me ghosts who have their eye on someone already attached try to eliminate the competition or something!

I suppose I can see why some might find the nocturnal fae intimidating... But surely those fears are exaggerated! Especially if they've been able to get along with non-fae perfectly well.

Hm, well... what are these nature faeries like? The sylphs here are forest... sprites? Something like that. They're very leafy, haha! They're relatively nice, but also tend to be a little mischievous. Like that time they went around disguised as some of my friends and caused no end of confusion.

Oh wow, the dorms sound really diverse! And now you've got me curious about all these people these dorms are based around. They all sound like a very important bunch, haha!

I hope things have been going well with your friends, I realize it's been quite a while since we last had this discussion.

Oh! He's a merperson, huh? What does he think of the world above the waves?

Honestly, I'm starting to think that's just how it is with prejudice. Some people hold onto their prejudice because they have other baggage to deal with on top of their views, and that's on them to sort out. But I do hope he's able to work out how to get his good intentions across in a less prejudiced manner, haha!

Oh that does sound rather alarming... Though it is rather neat to hear that food works just as well for replenishing mages' stamina in your world as it does in ours. Are mages in your world in the habit of carrying snacks like they are here? Mages have something of a reputation here for having sweettooths because of it, haha. Pastries and sweets are a lot easier to carry in bulk, after all.

Oh, that's wonderful to hear! We do have quite a bit of efficient irrigation in Ul'dah, naturally, but we're still at the mercy of the desert heat and flash floods. You'd think someone would have worked out some efficient water magic to use out here, but no, thaumaturges are too busy messing around with fire and ice to just create water.

I never would have thought that the creative arts would help with visualizing magic, actually. Hm... maybe that's why my attempts at learning arcanima went so poorly, haha...

It's honestly not that scary to me! Most of the ghosts on campus are kind and help with teaching. Some of them help run a culinary crucible to teach students how to cook! Along with a few other things. I take it Alphinaud's scared of them? ...actually, that's understandable, ever since I learned about what happens to the unfortunate spouses of ghosts who want to marry a living person... also, I didn't know you could summon faeries! I'm not sure you can here. I might have to doublecheck that.

There are! A lot of the fae who attend school here are nocturnal fae, and they're roughly the size of people who have a humanoid form they can use. I heard that Malleus is a dragon! And I think Sebek is a crocodile? I don't remember for sure about Lilia, but with as much as he likes to hang upside down, I think he might be a bat... a lot of the Faeland faeries think the nocturnal fae are frightening and they don't really mess with each other.

Hmmm... I don't know! What are sylphs? There are some nature faeries, but I doubt that they're the same?

I don't mind you asking at all!! Let's see, I'll try to keep this short and informative.

Heartslabyul: inspired by the Queen of Hearts, who brought law and order to a lawless land! She's known for her strictness, and so most students in there are... generally law-abiding? The dorm's known for having a list of 810 rules that they're expected to memorize, because the housewardens are generally supposed to take that seriously. Their current housewarden, Riddle, takes the rules VERY seriously, but he's learning to ease up a bit!

Savanaclaw: inspired by the King of Beasts and his spirit of persistence! He stopped at nothing to bring equality to the savannah, though... it's still not perfect. A good number of beastfolk end up in this dorm, and a lot of them are usually fairly sporty. I guess probably because you have to be a little persistent to do well in sports? A lot of them are pretty easy to piss off!

Octavinelle: inspired by the Sea Witch, who was known for her compassion/benevolence. They run a campus cafe called the Mostro Lounge! I'm not exactly sure how much I feel like all of their students really embody compassion, personally, but that's how it is! Octavinelle and Scarabia are usually competing for the highest grades overall.

Scarabia: My dorm! Scarabia's inspired by the Sorcerer of the Sands, who was known for his mindfulness and resourcefulness! A lot of my dormmates are the careful, thoughtful type that consider all their options before doing something; I'm a little different from a lot of my dormmates in that regard. I do my best plan-making under pressure, honestly, and lean more towards the resourceful side of things. Usually the housewardens in this dorm are determined by who's the best at astrology and ancient incantations, along with also being the most cunning and resourceful! Unless if you're me, I guess. Then money can buy you whatever position, apparently. I'm doing my best to prove that I actually do live up to the title I didn't earn.

Pomefiore: inspired by the Fairest Queen's spirit of tenacity! Most of the students in this dorm tend to be from more well-to-do families, but that's not always the case. With Vil as the housewarden, appearances and manners are very important here! Housewardens are selected by being able to make the most potent poison - and also an antidote for it, so you show that you understand what, exactly, you made.

Ignihyde: inspired by the King of the Underworld's diligence. Most everyone in this dorm is very good with technology! I'm not entirely sure how they choose their housewardens, and they're known for being fairly reclusive. Even a lot of the more gregarious students here claim they have no friends from Ignihyde, which I feel like has to be an exaggeration, honestly.

Diasomnia: based on the Thorn Queen's spirit of nobility! I'm not exactly sure what that means and I'm not sure the students of Diasomnia know what that means either. If you're really good at magic all across the board, you're put in this dorm! Which is probably why the few fae students we have are in this dorm, since magic comes a lot more naturally to them than any other race in Twisted Wonderland.

Oh... I'm so sorry. I understand. I might tell Ortho; I'm just worried about how Idia will react, personally. I don't want him to get upset or jealous.

True also! I guess my concern is that I feel like it's not "creative" enough, even though I... really know that's not the case. But I will! I might make a point of asking him directly, honestly. That would be easier.

It is generally a lot more convenient! The merfolk cities closer to the surface are safer, but the ones deeper down require you to be... a lot more on your guard. You might be able to change the duration! I'm under the impression that it's as good as it's going to get for now, but... I might ask my boyfriend! He's really good at making potions, and he's very familiar with transformation potions as an octopus merperson! And right? Me too! Without that, it would be a lot more difficult to establish communications and everything with them!

Me too... most of the fae here get along with us! A lot of people fear Malleus because he's a very powerful mage, but Lilia gets along with a lot of people. Sebek is a lot more... prejudiced. But I think he means well. I think he has a lot of internal problems going on.

It honestly is a little terrifying. I've... had some up-close experience, and it's horrible. I will say that mages here also get pretty hungry and tired casting spells! I mean, just a trip to the cafeteria here makes that obvious. But blot is... certainly something. I have to say though, if it gets visible on YOU, then... it's already too late, haha.

Yeah, that sounds extreme... I hope they don't end up succeeding. No amount of salvation is worth that for anyone.

I do!! I also grew up in the desert, though thanks to the founding families, the area is very well irrigated and we have a lot of waterways to help, so my spell isn't particularly helpful in the Silk City. But I know other places where it would be useful! Really, any mage can summon water, but the difference with me is that it takes almost no energy to summon a LOT of it. It's incredibly efficient and versatile! And I hope so!! I mean, a lot of the classes involving creativity (art, music, etc) are meant more to help you be able to imagine the effect of your spells, and the better you are at visualizing what you're doing, the better your spellcasting is!

[genshinmp3]

by context (archon quest/version patch)

Master list by archon quest and version patch. Since story quests usually pertain to the specific character, please use the character navigation for those.

by archon quest

All tagged under #archon quest

Prologue: The Outlander who Caught the Wind

Chapter I: Farewell Archaic Lord Chapter II: Omnipresence Over Mortals Chapter III: Truth Amongst the Pages of Purana Chapter IV: Masquerade of the Guilty Chapter V: Incandescent Ode of Resurrection

Interlude, Act 1: The Crane Returns on the Wind Interlude, Act 2: Perilous Trail Interlude, Act 3: Inversion of Genesis

Traveler Quest (focus on the Twins and Dainsleif)

by version patch

All tagged under #version x.x

version 5.x (natlan)

5.6 Paralogism 5.5 Day of the Flame's Return 5.4 Moonlight Amidst Dreams 5.3 Incandescent Ode of Resurrection 5.2 Tapestry of Spirit and Flame 5.1 The Rainbow Destined to Burn 5.0 Flowers Resplendent on the Sun-Scorched Sojourn

version 4.x (fontaine)

4.8 Summertide Scales and Tales 4.7 An Everlasting Dream Intertwined 4.6 Two Worlds Aflame, the Crimson Night Fades 4.5 Blades Weaving Betwixt Brocade 4.4 Vibrant Harriers Aloft in Spring Breeze 4.3 Roses and Muskets 4.2 Masquerade of the Guilty 4.1 To the Stars Shining in the Depths 4.0 As Light Rain Falls Without Reason

version 3.x (sumeru)

3.8 Secret Summer Paradise 3.7 Duel! The Summoners’ Summit! 3.6 A Parade of Providence 3.5 Windblume’s Breath 3.4 The Exquisite Night Chimes 3.3 All Senses Clear, all Existence Void 3.2 Akasha Pulses, the Kalpa Flame Rises 3.1 King Deshret and the Three Magi 3.0 The Morn a Thousand Roses Brings

version 2.x (inazuma)

2.8 Summer Fantasia 2.7 Hidden Dreams in the Depths 2.6 Zephyr of the Violet Garden 2.5 When the Sakura Bloom 2.4 Fleeting Colors in Flight 2.3 Shadows Amidst Snowstorms 2.2 Into the Perilous Labyrinth of Fog 2.1 Floating World Under the Moonlight 2.0 The Immovable God and the Eternal Euthymia

version 1.x (mondstadt/liyue)

1.6 Midsummer Island Adventure 1.5 Beneath the Light of Jadeite 1.4 Invitation of Windbloom 1.3 All That Glitters 1.2 The Chalk Prince and the Dragon 1.1 A New Star Approaches

[gumnut-logic]

We’ll Be Home For Christmas 4.5

Title: We’ll be home for Christmas

Day Four – Five Billionaires and No Wives – Part 5 Prologue | 1.1 | 1.2 | 2.1 | 2.2 | 2.3 | 3.1 | 3.2 | 3.3 | 3.4 | 3.5 | 4.1 | 4.2 | 4.3 | 4.4 | 4.5

Author: Gumnut

29 Apr - 11 May 2020

Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS

Rating: Teen

Summary: The boys can’t fly home for Christmas, so they have to find another way.

Word count: 4259

Spoilers & warnings: language and so, so much fluff. Science!Gordon. Artist!Virgil, Minor various ships, mostly background. A little angst in this one.

Timeline: Christmas Season 3, I have also kinda ignored the main storyline of Season 3. The boys needed a break, so I gave them one. Post season 3B, before Season 3C cos I started this fic before we saw it.

Author’s note: For @scattergraph​​​. This is my 2019 TAG Secret Santa fic :D

I’ve been staring at this too long and it is late. I hope I don’t regret posting this. Especially as Alan misbehaved and threw an unplanned scene at me.

Many thanks to @i-am-chidorixblossom​ @scribbles97​​​ and @onereyofstarlight​​​ for reading through various bits, fielding my many wibblies, and for all their wonderful support.

Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother.

-o-o-o-

He didn’t sleep long.

Virgil was woken so they could drag him onto A Little Lightning. Scott marshalled him out of his wet clothes, into a shower and quietly redressed his healing incisions. Lunch was demanded and a sandwich shoved into his hand. Coffee was denied him and orange juice substituted.

He found himself dozing at the table.

Mel and Sam were invited for lunch aboard the boat. Gordon was busy being host, but never quite seemed to be very far from Virgil.

Sam mentioned the whales several times, but Gordon shut him down and at no point did he have a chance to corner Virgil.

Virgil felt sorry for the cetacean biologist. He must remember to talk to him at a later time. Once he had finished processing today himself.

The whole experience was otherworldly. He didn’t quite know how to express it. It was as if the music had shape and form, his mind’s eye producing a kaleidoscope of imagery sculpted by sound.

And it meant something.

He knew it meant something, but he couldn’t decipher most of it. Bits were missing, the shapes fragmented, but he did feel the emotion that travelled with it. Multidimensional, the song communicated in a way he wasn’t capable of fully comprehending.

“Virgil, you should go to bed.”

Scott again.

“Mmm-hmm.”

“C’mon.” A hand landed gently on his shoulder.

“Mmm...” Musical shapes danced in his mind and he realised there was colour. Greens, violets and yellows. Patches torn from an unseen spectrum. It was frustrating to not be able to pull it all into focus and understanding.

“Virgil?”

It would be interesting to try and paint. Yes, maybe that would be a way to understand it better. He visualised forming those shapes with pencil and brush. Three dimensions...no four. They shifted according to time.

Hell. So confusing.

But he could try.

“Virgil? You with me?”

Huh? He blinked and looked up at concerned blue eyes.

A sigh. “Just thinking.”

“I can see that. You need rest.”

He did, yes, but he also needed to think, to doodle, to work it all out. He caught Scott’s eyes. “Sit with me?”

A blink. “Of course.”

There followed farewells, Virgil pre-occupied throughout. At some point Mel kissed him on the cheek, but he barely registered it. Sam said something but was interrupted by Gordon. Virgil felt completely spaced and somewhere at the back of his thoughts he was embarrassed at his lack of response and manners.

Scott didn’t leave his side.

Gordon made excuses and apologies.

John was speaking to Eos...which meant their guests must have left. Man, he was out of it. Brain overload.

Alan had concerned blue eyes so much like their eldest brother.

The yacht’s engine starting up scared the living shit out of him. It shattered his mindscape with aural static, those careful shapes disintegrating.

“Hey, hey, Virgil. It’s okay.” Scott had his hand on his arm again.

Virgil’s heart was thudding in his chest. A blink. A calming breath. A moment. He forced calm. “I’m good.”

He was, really. He just had a lot to think about.

“You sure you don’t want to sleep?”

“I’m sure.” But there was something he did want to do. “Come up front with me?”

Scott frowned at him.

“I just want to feel the sun on my face, the wind in my hair.” And get as far away from the engine as possible.

“Sure.” A pause. “But you’re sitting down.”

“Sure.” Virgil pushed himself to his feet.

They found a niche on the bow, enough to sit comfortably with some back support. They could see Gordon frowning at them from the cockpit.

Virgil caught the thought and had to stop himself from laughing out loud. Apparently, he was as much a flyboy as his big brother.

The boat was moving at a reasonable speed, Gordon, no doubt, wanting to get home fast due to the day’s events. That and now they were behind schedule and had quite a long, final stretch to make it before sunset.

Raoul was little more than a smudge on the horizon already. Virgil stared at it a moment before turning and facing the wide ocean ahead of them that ultimately would contain their island. Wind streamed through his hair.

“It will be good to be home.”

Scott didn’t hesitate. “Definitely.”

Virgil snorted. “Missing your ‘bird?”

“Missing land.”

“You spent last night on land.”

“Not the right land.”

Virgil raised an eyebrow at that. “You seemed quite happy with at least one of the inhabitants.”

That prompted a smile on his big brother’s face. “Fishing for details?”

“Some. Not too much.”

Scott turned to him and shrugged. “It was fun. Mel is an interesting woman.”

Half a smile. “I’ll give her that much.” A curious eyebrow. “See it going any further?”

Scott’s expression was thoughtful. “Maybe.”

“Invite her over for Christmas.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Why not?”

“Late notice.”

“You have a Thunderbird.”

That thoughtfulness increased and a slight smile curved his brother’s lips.

“Invite Sam and Liam while you’re at it. We owe them cake. Alan ate theirs.” And Virgil owed Sam an explanation.

That frown returned. “You sure?”

“Sure. The more the merrier.” A snort. “Hell, have them over for a few days. It will give Melissa the chance to check out our ecosystem, she’ll be ecstatic.” A pause and then quietly. “It will give me a chance to speak to Sam about...” A fractured image came to mind and he realised it meant whale. An indrawn breath. Oh god. One concept. He understood something. He could not reproduce it. It wasn’t just sound. It was something else. A combination of visual and auditory. How? His throat froze up. Hell.

“Virgil?”

“I...” The concept tantalised him. His fingers itched for his pencils, his paints and his piano all at once. How?

How?

He swallowed and realised his heart rate was up again. “I...need my tablet...and stylus.”

Scott stared at him a moment before standing up and making his way aft.

It was a sign of how preoccupied Virgil was that his tablet appeared almost immediately in his hands.

He didn’t hesitate. His fingers pulled up his drawing app, his stylus connected with the surface and lines appeared.

Lines. Curves.

Shapes.

Interwoven.

No.

Not right.

The stylus squeaked across the screen.

More lines. More shapes.

The screen became black with them, so he added colour. It splashed and bled across the lines.

“Virgil.”

It still wasn’t right.

Frustration stirred and he groaned at the image.

A blink.

Sound.

He scratched more lines, but the moment of inspiration faded.

He couldn’t do it.

“Virgil.”

It wasn’t a single dimension. It was many. Visual, sound and...and...

Emotion.

How?

It all came back to that question.

He let the tablet and stylus drop, clenching his eyes shut and rubbing his face with his hands.

How the hell could he communicate emotion?

-o-o-o-

John squirrelled himself away. Eos had contacted him to give her report, but there was something in her tone that told him not to take it on an open line.

So, he waited until Gordon got the boat moving and Scott had corralled Virgil before retreating to his cabin for some privacy.

“Did you receive a clear enough signal?”

“Affirmative, John. The upgrade to Virgil’s comms worked perfectly. I am confident I received the full spectrum of the whale’s emissions.”

“Any conclusions?”

“Tentative. And at least an explanation why Virgil is so relaxed in their presence.”

John frowned. “Show me.” The tablet in his hand, the same waterproof device he had clung to as they were tossed from the boat, lit up and a hologram hung above it.

It was a series of graphs mapping sound waves, several equations scrolled down one side. The frown on John’s face deepened. That was some seriously complex math. “Talk to me, Eos.”

“Multiple carrier waves interact synergistically to create other waves which also carry data. This is truly a multidimensional sound.” The waves on several of the graphs split up to show their originating structures.

“Can you decipher a language?”

“Not a simple language, no. Initial assessment leads me to believe this is at least partially a graphical language. The mathematics reveal vector information is part of the transmission.”

John’s eyes widened. “Any interpretation?”

The graphs disappeared to reveal fragmented moving lines and clouded shape. “These images are calculated using a section of song the mother whale was singing to Virgil.”

“Can you see a pattern?”

“Not presently, however, I am still analysing. One aspect to be considered is this...”

A second grouping of graphics appeared beside the main display. This was smaller and lacked colour, the lines far more fragmented and the whole composition was fogged with what appeared to be static. “What?”

“That is Virgil’s vocalisation while he was in contact with the whale, if it is run through the same mathematical algorithm.” The two graphics were suddenly overlaid together. Virgil’s section fit like a piece of a puzzle into the larger composition, as if it was an unfinished section awaiting colour.

“How? Why is Virgil picking this up, but the rest of us are not?”

The graphs returned along with one new one. “I retrieved Virgil’s EEG readings from his last head injury.” Lines lit up in red on several of the graphs. “Several of the carrier waves create a binaural beat. The result is that at least part of the whale’s communication is nestled in frequencies that resonate with human brainwave activity. Virgil’s, in particular, appear to align well. I hypothesise that this facilitates his receptivity.”

John stared at the lines denoting Virgil’s delta wave production. A flick of his fingers and the graph overlaid that section of the whale’s vocal output. Delta waves were well known for their calming effect and their influence on sleep. It would definitely explain his brother’s thrall and lethargy during each encounter.

The red lines glared at him.

An exhaled breath. “So, no chance of a translation?”

“Not any time soon. The transmission is extremely complex and I have yet to reveal all of the carrier signals, much less decipher the entire data stream.”

Eos fell silent a moment and John stared at the graphs, watching them move in rhythm with each other. “Why hasn’t this been discovered before?”

“Recording equipment. Of the recordings I have examined, only three have managed to record enough detail to even hint at the complexity. Today’s samples are of the highest resolution ever taken. Further clarity would be achieved with multiple recordings.”

Which meant more encounters. The sight of Virgil singing on the whale was eerie and unsettling. He may have held back Scott from going to Virgil’s assistance, but the truth was he had to hold himself back just as much.

“Is it causing Virgil any harm?”

Eos didn’t answer immediately and it gave John the chance to ramp up his concern just a notch.

“I cannot locate any medical effects beyond a tendency towards inducing sleep due to some of the frequencies involved. I would recommend further monitoring, however.”

“I agree.” An indrawn breath. “Thank you, Eos.” He blinked and realised exactly what his daughter had just done. His eyes widened just a little. “Continue analysis. This is an important scientific discovery and you have done some excellent work.”

“Really?” Her voice was ever so hopeful, ever so young.

“Of course. I’m looking forward to working on this with you.” There was definitely work to be done and soon.

“Thank you, John.”

“No, Eos, thank you.”

Her giggle bounced across comms. Sometimes so old, yet always ever so young. Her youth was always surprising as was her need for guidance. “Could you please send me Virgil’s vitals, both during the encounter and now?”

“Yes, John.” More numbers appeared above his tablet. Fortunately, they were all healthy numbers, though Virgil’s heart rate was up somewhat. A flick of his fingers and Scott’s vitals appeared beside Virgil’s. Both brothers’ heart rates echoed each other.

John would have felt like he was spying on his family, but he did it so often for reassurance on Five that it now barely registered. Another flick of his fingers and he directed Five to focus on A Little Lightning. He found his eldest brothers on the bow of the yacht. Virgil appeared to be drawing on his tablet.

“He is well, John. I can see no after effects from his encounter.”

John wondered if he could coerce his brother into an EEG exam when they made it home. Roping Scott in would probably manage it, but the stress on both of them would be considerable and he hesitated to aggravate either of them.

Perhaps further down the track, or if Virgil gave him any reason for concern.

God, he hoped not.

A sigh. He had probably jinxed himself last night acknowledging the vacation they were on. Since he woke up to Virgil’s snoring early that morning, things had changed. Sure, surfing with Gordon had been fun, but seeing Scott stressing over Virgil on the beach and the events that followed right up until they returned to A Little Lightning had been anything but relaxing.

One of Virgil’s piano sonatas started playing over his tablet ever so softly.

Despite himself, he smiled. “I’m fine, Eos.”

“You’re worrying again. This is not good for your hair production.”

He blinked. “What?”

“Several sources state that stress can disable the pigment production in human hair follicles, resulting in white, often termed ‘grey’, hairs. I believe this is a negatively viewed characteristic and I have noted that your elder brothers have encountered this issue already. It causes distress, therefore it should be prevented.”

Another blink. “Both of my older brothers have dark hair. Grey becomes very apparent in contrast.”

“It will turn your hair pink.”

“What?” This conversation was ridiculous. “It is a natural ageing process. There is very little that can be done about it.” A breath. “I’m not vain, Eos.”

She didn’t answer immediately. “But your brothers are?”

“My brothers are my brothers, Eos.”

“Well, that makes little sense.”

“Just accept them as they are.”

“Is it possible to accept them any other way?”

“No, not really.”

“Then that statement is redundant.”

“Eos.”

“Yes?”

Frivolous distraction, Eos-style. She had become quite adept at it. Moving his thoughts off worrying topics. A sigh. “Thank you, Eos.”

She didn’t answer immediately, but then...

“Did you know Virgil dyes his hair?”

-o-o-o-

Scott watched his brother draw somewhat manically on his tablet. The resultant art was far from what the artist usually produced. This was all sharp lines and angles followed by random blob shapes. At first it was all in pencil, but then Virgil started adding colours. There was no pattern, it was all haphazard and, worse, it appeared to be aggravating him.

“Virgil.”

His brother groaned in frustration, his eyebrows creasing his face in half and swallowing the scar on his forehead.

“Virgil.”

But he suddenly stopped, realisation on his face morphing into disappointment and more frustration.

The tablet and stylus slipped from Virgil’s hands and Scott was hard pressed to catch them.

But he did.

Virgil’s eyes were scrunched shut and he rubbed his face with his hands.

Scott glanced at the mess on the tablet and shoved it to one side, turning to his brother. “Virgil, talk to me.”

“I can’t.” It was small and hoarse.

“Can’t what?”

“Can’t...express, explain...trying to understand...it’s a mess...”

Okay, this was well outside his realm, but he knew Virgil. He slipped off his seat and knelt in front him. Gently he pulled those hands away from his brother’s face to reveal worried brown eyes. “Stop. Take a breath.”

Virgil stared at him a moment before the soft command was obeyed and he drew in air. Those eyes closed briefly and his brother’s shoulders dropped. “Sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about.”

“I ruined it again. I’ve stressed you out.”

“This time, I don’t think you had much say in it. Mamma Whale was very determined to say hello.” A small smile. “I think you have a music fan.”

Virgil snorted softly and Scott knew he’d broken through even if just a little. “She definitely wanted to talk. I just wish I knew what she wanted to say.”

“You picked up something, though, didn’t you?”

A quiet sigh. “She was happy and surprised.” Virgil looked up and stared out into the ocean, but Scott could tell he wasn’t seeing the waves.

He wondered what he was thinking.

“How could you tell?”

The frown returned. “I don’t know.” A pause caught in thought. “The sound makes me feel? The sound is...everything.”

Virgil stopped speaking, lost again to whatever was in his head.

Scott swallowed and tried a different tactic. “I think you made a mistake.”

Brown eyes snapped to him immediately. “What?”

“You should have asked Mel out. Lost opportunity, bro.”

Virgil stared at him. “What?”

“She had the hots for you, Virg, and you ignored her.”

“Last time Raoul erupted? She tried to climb me like a tree. Kay had to drag her out of the cockpit.”

It was Scott’s turn to stare. “Really?”

“She was very exuberant in her thanks.”

Scott smiled. “She knows what she likes.” And yes, admittedly, she was very good at climbing, after all Scott was taller. His smile widened.

Virgil’s stare intensified until plain, straight human communication got the message across and his brother groaned. “God, Scott, TMI.”

Total innocence. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to. The image is radiating off your skin.”

Scott sniggered.

Distraction achieved.

“Well, I did say you lost an opportunity.”

“That’s fine, Jungle Jim, she’s all yours.”

Scott shrugged. He could always hope. She certainly knew how to press all his buttons. “Still think we should have her over for Christmas?”

“Yeah, Gordon will love it.”

“What about you?”

“I need to speak to Sam.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to.”

“Okay.” A breath. “Just take it easy.”

His brother nodded and returned to staring out at the ocean. “It will be good to get home.”

Scott stood up slowly and sat back down beside his brother. “Yeah, it will.”

So good.

-o-o-o-

“Are we there yet?” Alan’s voice was particularly whiny, no doubt, specifically designed to irritate.

Gordon turned away from the helm to look at him. “Do you see an island in front of us?”

Alan shoved his hands in his pockets. “Nope.”

“There’s your answer.”

It had been quiet on the bridge for the last few hours. Gordon was grateful for the time to think. A Little Lightning cut through the water ever so smoothly. It was satisfying to see the swell pass by knowing that they were one wave closer to home.

Gordon loved being out on the ocean. It was his native element. But at the moment he longed for the safety of Tracy Island. That last encounter with the whales had its own sense of wonder, but until he understood exactly what the effect was on his older brother, he wasn’t entirely comfortable.

It was weird and unnerving.

And it worried him.

“They been out there long?” Alan was staring at the two men sitting on the bow of the boat.

“Yeah, couple of hours at least.”

“Do you think Virgil is okay?”

No. “Yeah, he’ll be fine.”

Alan eyed him. “I’m not a kid anymore. I don’t need protecting. Since when have you become one of them?” He pointed at his eldest brothers.

Gordon sighed. “I’m not. It’s just...I don’t know, okay? It was weird and amazing and I need to talk to him and he was spaced out and his singing was...”

“Weird?”

“Yeah.”

There was silence for a moment, but Gordon knew it wouldn’t be long.

Sure enough.

“Do you think Virg can talk to whales?”

“I don’t know, Alan.” It was said on one long exhale.

“He communicated something, didn’t he?”

“I don’t know, okay?” And that was the problem. There was so much they didn’t know. Gordon was itching to get into the in-depth literature, to find out more and fill the gaps in his knowledge so he could help his brother. He would be speaking to Sam as soon as possible, but for the moment, the priority was getting Virgil home.

“Some vacation.” It was said with a pout.

Gordon sighed and shoved on the autopilot before turning to his younger brother. “Alan, out with it.”

“What?”

“What’s bugging you.”

“I thought that was obvious. Virgil going zombie and singing to a whale is enough, don’t you think? As if appendicitis wasn’t dramatic already.”

Gordon stared at Alan. “He is going to be okay.”

“You don’t know that. You just said so!”

“He sang to a whale, Alan. They are one of the gentlest creatures on the planet. If he was going to choose a weird conversation partner, he chose well.”

“But you don’t know what it did to him!”

“It didn’t do anything to him.”

“You don’t know that!”

“Alan-“

“Don’t lie to me!” The words shot across the bridge and slapped Gordon in the face.

Voice calm and quiet and not a little hurt. “I have never lied to you, Alan.”

Blue fire glared at him. “You haven’t? Not even to protect the littlest one? Scared I might burst into tears.”

Gordon stared at his little brother. “What is it?”

“Have you?!”

“No! I’ve always told you the truth. You know that!” He let out an aggravated breath. “What is wrong, Allie?”

“What do you think? First you, then Virgil, and now this!”

“What?!” Him? Virgil? Oh...shit. “Virgil is okay. Hell, I’m okay. Allie, we are all fine.”

“That’s what he keeps saying!” Alan shoved a finger in Virgil’s direction. “He’s always fine, even when he’s not. You’re all the same. Big tough guys, nothing is ever wrong. You could be bleeding to death and you’d ‘be fine’. What is wrong with admitting you’re hurt? What is so wrong with being hurt that you have to hide it?”

Gordon opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

“Well, you know what? I’m scared and I’m sick of hiding it. Virgil nearly fell out of the damned sky with his infected appendix. It could have killed him. And now he’s scaring everyone with this whale thing.” A harshly indrawn breath. “Don’t tell me Scott’s not worried. I’m not stupid.”

Two steps and Gordon was in front of his brother, his hands landing on shoulders that were just that touch higher than his own and tighter strung than Virgil’s piano. “Allie, he’s going to be okay.”

“You keep saying that.”

“Because it is true.”

Something unintelligible and Alan was wrapped around him like a limpet. Gordon held his little brother. It was unusual and alarming. Alan usually went to Scott for comfort. Gordon was for pranks and cohorting. “It’s okay to be upset. It’s okay to be worried. You can cry if you need to.”

“I’m not going to cry!” Alan pulled away and glared up at Gordon.

“What?”

“Now you think I’m the baby that needs to bawl on your shoulder?”

“What?!” The hell was going on? Some conscious part of his brain was aware of the yacht’s engine, the high speed they were travelling and the fact autopilot on water was vastly different from the sky and he really should be paying attention. But Alan needed...something. “Allie, you’ve lost me. What do you want?!”

“I want Virgil to be okay. I want you to be okay.”

“We are okay!”

“Then stop scaring me!”

“I didn’t scare you!”

“You....you terrified me, Gordon. You terrified all of us.”

“I didn’t do it on purpose.”

“Still hurt.”

“Aww, Allie...” What could he do?

“And now, here you are ‘okay’, and it could happen again, and...” A shaky swallow. “I’m scared, okay? You’re fine. Virgil’s fine. But you’re not, and...I’m not okay...okay?”

This time it was Gordon wrapping his arms around his not so little brother. “I’m sorry, Allie.”

Muffled into Gordon’s shoulder. “Not your fault.”

“No.” But he should have realised it was still messing with his little brother. Alan was the least experienced of them all. Gordon had seen things, done things, things that hopefully Alan would never have to experience. Quietly. “I think Virgil is a little freaked out. I don’t think he understands what happened much more than we do. But we are going to find out. I’m going to speak to Sam. We’re going to do some research and we will find out why the song affected Virgil the way it did. But he is okay, Alan. Tracy’s honour. A little shaken up. A little worried. But he is okay. We’ll work through this like we always do.”

His brother’s arms tightened around him just that little bit more, but Alan didn’t say anything.

A rustle of fabric and Gordon looked up to see John standing in the doorway staring at them with a hint of worry in his eyes.

“John?”

Alan startled and pulled away immediately. Turquoise followed his every move.

A slow blink and John stepped onto the bridge. “Eos is deciphering the song. We have a good idea as to why Virgil reacted the way he did.” It was said calmly and factually for such a great discovery.

“You do?” Alan found his voice first.

Those eyes latched onto Gordon’s. “We do.”

The helm beeped.

A blink and Gordon was back at the wheel, scanning their position. A mass of volcanic rock and tropical reef appeared on navigational sensors.

A familiar chunk of rock and reef.

Tracy Island.

Home.

-o-o-o-

End Day Four, Part Five.

[witchofthescions]

@nameless-brand replied to your post “Gods damn it all. Alisaie and Gohnoh'a are out...”:

What the hell is wrong with that Calling person?

​Hells if I know. Soon as I can get my hands on 'em I'm giving 'em a piece of my mind, I'll tell you what.

[witchofthescions]

Nice to see you around again, Lev! Hope going on Tumblr in your sleep doesn't mess with you too much, haha.

This sucks. So I really can only go on Tumblr when I'm asleep. And it's not consistent either. I can't sleep on command - and I'm immune to mental status effects.

Anyway, I'm officially back on Tunglr. No longer needing Sato's benevolence to relay important stuff to me.

[bookkeeperofthescions]

Why yes, I am quite the talented seamstress! :)

[sageofthescions]

14 What’s their self-image like? Do they like their body? What makes them feel good in their skin?

July Headcanons

((He has, quite ironically, gotten a bit more comfortable in his own skin after accidentally getting yoinked off to [Parts Unknown]. Having an opportunity to actually explore his identity and preferences in a place without the sorts of preconceived notions he's grown up with has been remarkably liberating for some reason.

That being said, he's always been fairly neutral about his body. Not quite an "I just work here" mentality, but more of a "this is my house and it's good enough for me" mentality, if that makes any sense alsfkehasldh))

[witchofthescions]

[A bee friend is here. For as long as she’s wanted around, she isn’t going to leave Erna to face this alone. There isn’t much she can do to fix anything, but whatever comfort she can offer is Erna’s. No hesitation.]

The company is more than appreciated, even if Erna is doing her best to pretend she's Perfectly Okay™️. She's certainly not in any hurry to tell her bee friend to go home. Once she's gotten her stricken friends safely to the Rising Stones and things have calmed down a bit, Crowley can expect to be grabbed up in a tight hug.

[witchofthescions]

Dresses are pretty nice. Bet you look fabulous in 'em too, haha!

Ooh, that sounds nice, actually, I'd love that!

#Hey it's a good outfit!#And it really suits you haha

@witchofthescions

It does, though I do appreciate dresses time to time.

Oh. Maybe the next time you come by, we could find you a vest and pants combo to wear haha.

[witchofthescions]

[witchofthescions]

Erna tugged the borrowed tunic around her as she made her way into the Rising Stones. Nails picked absentmindedly at the fabric as half-formed thoughts chased themselves around her head. She wasn't sure what she'd say when she showed up. "Sorry I almost died?" "Tales of my death were greatly exaggerated?" "Hey, Tataru, can you make me a new shirt because my old one got kinda destroyed."

It didn't take long for someone to notice her striding into the establishment. And it didn’t take long for her remaining friends to gather around.

And it especially didn’t take long for Tataru to come barreling over to her, arms held up for a hug. Erna barely had time to kneel down before the lalafell leapt into her arms and hugged her tight.

"Oh thank the gods you’re safe." Tataru buried her face against Erna’s shoulder. "I was so worried that you’d..."

Tataru held her a little tighter, her voice dropping to a whisper. "That you’d been taken from us, too."

Erna said nothing, simply squeezing her friend back. They stayed that way for a few moments. Hoary Boulder knelt down and hugged the both of them (and for a moment Erna felt a twinge of longing, wishing it was her own brother) before Tataru finally pulled back, gesturing for Erna to place her on the ground. She wiped her face, one last sniffle getting through before she regained her composure.

"What happened out there? I’ve heard bits and pieces, but... but I’d rather hear it all from you."

Erna launched into a recounting of the events that day, wrapping up with her conversation with the mystery caller. The others all listened intently, wearing different looks of concern.

"'The better path leads you here,' huh?" Tataru repeated, frowning. “And you said he seemed familiar, somehow?”

"Yeah. Like... like I’d met him before somewhere, but fuck if I can remember where or when."

"What could you make out of his features?" Hoary asked. Erna shrugged.

"Not much. He was wearin' robes and a hood. All I could make out was patches of pale skin, but that don't exactly mean much, considering how many folks I've met are pale as sheets." She punctuated the point by gesturing towards some of the assembled Scions who, of course, were very much on the paler side of the spectrum.

"Whoever he is, if he's really the same person who's been contacting you this whole time, then perhaps the others are with him." Tataru lowered her head, momentarily lost in thought. "The fighting's hit a stalemate, according to Ser Aymeric, but... but if that monster in Zenos's skin comes back, you're going to need everyone's help." She raised her head and fixed Erna with a stern look. "And I forbid you from going to face him on your own. Do you hear me? So if you must leave... Go and find the others. Bring them home."

Tataru's eyes welled up again as she looked at her, and Erna couldn't help but shy away like a chastened child. But she smiled back at her friend, and nodded in reassurance.

"I will. I promise I will."

Tataru smiled back. "Good. I'm holding you to that!" She sniffled and wiped her eyes. "Now, you said he'd left a beacon for you at the Crystal Tower? But how are you to find it when the tower has been sealed shut?"

"Hells if I know." Erna shrugged.

"Well, if anyone's likely to know a way, it's Cid and the researchers at Saint Coinach's Find," Tataru said, nodding to herself. She fixed Erna with a determined grin. "Don't you worry. We'll find that beacon for you!"

Cheers erupted amongst the other assembled Scions. Erna looked around, somewhat surprised at the show of solidarity.

You know... other people don't really come to our aid that often, do they?

No, not like this at least. It was... refreshing to have so many people ready and willing to help her for a change. Usually it felt like she and her team were on their own.

But that's never really been the case, has it? Fray mused. The other Scions have always had our backs. And we've had plenty of other allies besides, both from our own star and from across the multiverse.

Fray was right. She was never truly alone. Not when she had so many allies to draw upon. How could she have ever thought otherwise?

"Oh, right, before I set out to speak with the researchers," Tataru said, bringing Erna out of her musings. "I have something for you!"

She disappeared behind her desk as the Scions dispersed, and came back with an armload of clothes and beaming ear to ear.

"I made these for you." She held the bundle out to Erna, who took them with a measure of excitement. "And I had Nero make you a custom weapon that I think you'll appreciate." Tataru beamed up at her dear friend. "Happy belated nameday." Erna scooped Tataru up into another hug. "Thank you, Tataru! You're the best."

"Thank you!" Tataru squeezed her back. "I wish I could see how those clothes fit on you, but I'm afraid I should be going. The sooner I contact them, the sooner we can find that beacon, after all. But you must show me how it all looks once I get back!"

"Oh, you bet!"

"Good!" Tataru smiled again. "Oh, but! I want you to get some rest while we work, do you hear me?" Erna was a little taken aback, and it must have shown on her face because Tataru put her hands on her hips and gave her a stern look back.

"I know what you're like, young lady. Did you leave with the chirurgeon's permission, or did you sneak out against their express wishes?"

Ernastral's gaze drifted away from Tataru and towards a particularly interesting formation in the ceiling. Oh, would you look at that, how absolutely fascinating.

"I thought so. That's why I'm going to strongly encourage you to stay here and rest. Do you hear me? Rest."

"Alright, alright, I'll get some rest. After I try on your new outfit."

Tataru giggled. "Perfect! Well then, I shall see you later!"

Tataru gave her one last wave, and then marched off to see to her own tasks. Erna watched her leave, then took a moment to examine the clothes she'd just been given. There was a cute pleated skirt, some really nice looking boots, a crop top shirt, and a really nice looking jean jacket. The latter caught her attention the most. She'd never seen anything like it before. Sure, she had a pair of jean pants, and those were nice, but she didn't realize you could make that material into a jacket.

We have to put this on right now.

No, she was going to find somewhere private to change first, and then she was going to put the whole outfit on. She wasn't just going to put on the jacket without trying on the rest of the clothes Tataru made.

Alright, fair enough. Let's see how this all looks, then.

[witchofthescions]

Erna had never been one for sitting idly. Everyone who knew her knew this. So it was no surprise that she was up and about, even if she found herself still limping and wincing as she went. She was too stubborn to stay still, especially not when she knew there were people waiting for her at one of the places she called home.

She'd hoped to slip out quietly, unnoticed. And for the most part, she had succeeded. No one had stood between her and freedom, not even the few chirurgeons she had run into along the way. They had given her some warnings to take it easy, of course, but otherwise hadn't tried to stop her. Except for the one who demanded she put on a proper shirt if she was going to be wandering around, and had fetched her one to take with her. In truth, she was thankful for that as she had almost forgotten she was in bloody freezing Ishgard of all places, and the walk outside would have been rather unbearable with nothing but a bunch of bandages covering her.

"Well, this is a most unexpected surprise. I thought you confined to bed."

Count Edmont de Fortemps strode up to her, his tone a mixture of mirth, relief, and an undercurrent of parental chiding. Erna smiled back rather sheepishly.

"When I heard that you had collapsed on the field of battle, I confess I feared the worst." Erna's gaze dropped to the floor. "Your mother was beside herself as well when she received the news. I suspect she would have broken through the Gates of Judgement on her own had no one had the presence of mind to send me to speak with her. Seeing you standing here before me, though, I see now that the reports of your defeat were greatly exaggerated, thank the Fury. I should be glad to pass the news along to your mother at the first opportunity."

"Thanks," Erna said, lifting her head with a smile. Then a thought occurred to her. "Oh, did my ma send me flowers? Cause there was a vase full of Farreach wildflowers on my bedside when I woke up."

To her surprise, Count Edmont hesitated, looking to be choosing his words carefully. "Yes, your family did send flowers, to my understanding. Ah, and it is also my understanding that it was your nameday recently. 'Tis good to see you still here to celebrate it, however late those celebrations may be."

Erna laughed. "Yeah, I can think of better ways to spend one's nameday than on a battlefield. Still, I'm all of 22 now, so that's pretty cool."

"It has been a long time since I was that young," Edmont mused, "but you would do well to treasure your youth while it lasts. With your profession..."

Edmont trailed off, a sad look crossing his features for a brief moment. He sighed, shook his head, and smiled again.

"No, let's not dwell on such morbid topics. Dark days lie ahead, of that I have no doubt, but the light of hope shall ever guide our steps so long as we have the will to press onward. And press onward we must." He reached up and gave her a pat on the shoulder. "Now, you have the look of one who has somewhere to be, so I shan't keep you. Farewell, my friend. I pray our next meeting will be under happier circumstances."

[witchofthescions]

The ceiling that greeted her was unfamiliar. She recognized the style, at least; something Ishgardian. She pushed herself into a sitting position and winced, reaching for the bandages wrapped around her torso. Bandages? Oh, right. Last thing she remembered, she was in the middle of a fight. She must not have noticed how injured she was in the chaos.

There was a soft gasp beside her. She turned, half expecting to see Lenar by her bedside, even as she knew that couldn’t possibly be the case. All she saw was a black-haired youth rushing for the door. With a sigh, she shifted in a half-hearted attempt to sit up, before a sharp pain in her side stopped her. She grimaced and reached for the source, her hand brushing against tightly wrapped bandages. She found herself idly musing over how many more scars she’d be sporting now.

She took a moment to take stock of her surroundings. Definitely Ishgardian. Not somewhere she could ever remember being... until it clicked. This was the infirmary, the same one Lenar and Estinien had been taken to after the confrontation with Nidhogg. Had she... fallen on the battlefield, then?

Well, I'm sure Cid was less than pleased to see me.

Her eyes fell on the table at her bedside. There was a vase full of carefully curated flowers, most of which she recognized as growing in the nearby Twelveswood. But there were a couple more that she recognized in an instant: wildflowers from her homeland in the Farreach.

Armored footsteps at the door drew her attention as Ser Aymeric dashed into view. He took one look at her, smiled in obvious relief, and nodded to the youth Erna had seen skittering away mere moments ago. He strode into the room and right up to her bedside, his smile only growing.

"You're awake," he said, the relief in his voice almost palpable. "Thank heavens!"

Erna forced a smile as he sat down, though it lasted only a few seconds. "What happened?"

Aymeric's smile disappeared, replaced with his "serious business" face, the one she'd seen him wear countless times before. "Do you recall the confrontation with Zenos?"

Erna nodded.

"You were the first to come to the aid of Mistress Lyse and the others on the front line."

Erna's heart froze. She shot up, and immediately regretted the motion as more pain shot through her injuries. Aymeric reached out, concern flickering across his face, but Erna didn’t give him a chance to speak.

"How—is she alright?" Erna asked.

Aymeric nodded. "Last I knew, she was alive. Though she was among the many casualties of that confrontation." He paused, his eyes meeting hers for a brief moment. "In the midst of your duel, it is said you faltered."

"Yeah, thanks to a poorly-timed Call," Erna quipped.

Aymeric's mouth pressed into a thin line as his gaze drifted towards the bandages around her torso. She unconsciously wrapped her arms tighter around herself.

"I swear, that's what did it. We'd both gotten a second wind, and I was just about to rush him when—y'know, that shootin' pain that's not quite an Echo hit."

Aymeric sighed and leaned back ever so slightly. "Poorly timed, indeed. Supposedly, the crown prince seized the opportunity to deliver a mortal blow."

Erna glanced away. Her voice grew quiet. "I... I can definitely confirm that."

Ser Aymeric's expression softened. He reached out and placed a hand on her arm, giving her a gentle squeeze of comfort. Erna glanced at his hand, then back to his face. She was too tired to offer him a smile, but she appreciated the gesture all the same.

"That's the last thing I remember, though. So there's no way I got out under my own power."

Aymeric nodded. "Before his blade could find its mark, he was distracted by the arrival of... unexpected reinforcements, who bore you away from the battlefield and into the hands of our chirurgeons."

Erna stared at him blankly.

"Lest you wonder, they left before you awoke." Aymeric gave her something of a playful smile. "As is his wont. Estinien never was one for emotional farewells."

Erna sat up straight, ignoring the pain for a moment. "Estinien?"

"He did not linger long enough to give an explanation as to why he was there, but the assistance was appreciated nonetheless."

Ser Aymeric went on to explain how the battle went: Zenos retreated, and the imperial forces went with him, allowing the Alliance to rush in and reestablish their position. Other rebellions across the Empire were brewing, and there was unrest in the Garlean capital. Things were finally starting to look up for their side, at least. Erna was relieved to hear it.

But there was something else on her mind.

"What about the Scions?"

Aymeric sighed quietly. "Yet to awake, I'm afraid." He placed his hand on her arm again, his diplomatic expression giving way to friendly concern. "But, please, concentrate on your own recovery for now. You have carried the hopes of some half-dozen nations—and we are all eternally grateful for your efforts—but no one is without their limits. Not even you."

Erna glanced away for a moment. Aymeric gave her arm a squeeze.

"Leave this fight to us, my friend. You have earned your rest."

Erna sighed, her shoulders slumping in defeat. "Fine. Fine..."

"Ah," Aymeric said, "but before I forget..."

Erna blinked up at him.

"I was asked to deliver a message as soon as you awoke. A reminder that you are not alone, though many of your allies have fallen. When you are well and rested," the particular emphasis was not lost on Erna, "you are to return home, where friends will be waiting for you."

Erna smiled despite herself. Return home, huh? She had a feeling she knew which home was meant. Aymeric gave her arm one last pat.

"Now, if you will excuse me, I must return to the front. May we meet again soon. Under happier circumstances."

Aymeric stood up, and made to leave the room. Erna hesitated a moment before she called after him, "Take care out there, yeah? Don't get stabbed again."

Aymeric paused and gave her a shocked look, before bursting into laughter. "I shall try not to. I should hope it shall be easier to see the blade coming this time."

Erna grinned back, and Aymeric gave one last wave as he left the room. She wanted nothing more than to get up and leave, but... maybe she'd do the smart thing for once and lay down for a little longer. At least until she stopped aching quite so much.