#pretty burned out. not to mention TIRED of my consistent disappointment with the game

[jessamine-rose]

/obey me! vent/

[stolen-pen-name23]

19 for the angst and h/c prompts

Hello! Thank you so much for the prompt and I'm SO SORRY it took so long!!!

(prompts now closed)

Ao3 Link

Here ya go!

---

Anakin nervously tugs on his braid as he awaits his turn to compete.

He can’t stop himself from glancing back at the door no more than he can stop himself from hoping Obi-Wan will walk through it.

He’s just late. He’ll be here.

Anakin says this to himself knowing full well that Obi-Wan is never late. Anakin begins to face the fact that Obi-Wan will not be showing up for him today.

He pulls on his braid again, a little more bitterly this time.

Obi-Wan is away on a solo mission — an important one supposedly. But this is important too. Anakin is competing in one of his first Padawan tournaments and Obi-Wan is supposed to be back by now so that he can watch. If Anakin wins the tournament, Obi-Wan is supposed to be the one to weave a brand new bead into Anakin’s braid.

It’s a big deal.

The Padawan Tournament consists of three rounds: an obstacle course, the Show of Force (pun very much intended by the Jedi Council who all thought they were so funny), and a lightsaber duel.

The obstacle course is difficult for most of the Padawans, but Anakin always breezed right through it in the many practice rounds Obi-Wan made him do.

The Show of Force, AKA, lifting various objects for various amounts of time with only the Force was a little more challenging for Anakin at first, but Obi-Wan drilled him over and over until he got it.

One time, Obi-Wan had drilled him on it for so long, his nose started bleeding and he almost passed out. Anakin remembered sensing Obi-Wan’s overwhelming guilt through their bond, but Anakin didn’t really mind. It was only a minor headache and he got a couple of milkshakes out of the deal. Not to mention, the smug feeling of satisfaction he got from Obi-Wan admitting he was wrong. Besides, he did get pretty good at using the Force in ways he never had before, despite the minor case of Force exhaustion he got out of it.

But out of all the events in the Padawan Tournament, the lightsaber duel is Anakin’s favorite part. Mostly because it meant he got to do extra lightsaber training with Obi-Wan which is his favorite thing ever. Though Anakin is excited about the duel, he can’t help but feel nervous for it.

The lightsaber duel is the main event of the Padawan Tournament. Everyone in the temple stops what they are doing to come watch it.

For months, Anakin has been practicing extra hard with Obi-Wan, but now he is worried that was not enough. Obi-Wan said he was ready, but Anakin had never even beat Obi-Wan. Anakin rarely fought against Padawans his age, so he is not sure what he is up against.

A blaring timer goes off, signaling that the Padawan before Anakin has finished his obstacle course. Anakin looks back at the door one more time. It remains closed.

Fighting back his anger and his disappointment, Anakin steels himself for the obstacle course.

“Are you ready, Padawan?” Master Windu asks quietly. Anakin can hear the faintest hint of sympathy in his voice and it makes the rage bubbling inside of him spike.

“I’m ready,” he growls.

“Alright then,” Master Windu says, stepping to the side.

A whistle blows and Anakin takes off. He soars through the obstacle course like it isn’t even there. He leaps from rope to rope and climbs over walls purposely slicked with oil.

It is nothing to him.

He gets through the obstacle course in record time, easily overtaking the other Padawans and then some. He has hardly broken a sweat by the time he gets to the Show of Force.

Anakin must lift weights onto pressure-sensitive platforms in order to release the next weight from its hold. Anakin repeats this process over and over until finally, he is at the last, and heaviest, of the weights. The final weight is small in size, but dense. It weighs roughly the same as a standard Republic-issue starfighter. Anakin splays out his hands and concentrates all of his will into the heavy object. He feels its weight in the Force and rejects it. He bends the air around it to his will and though sweat beads upon his brow and his arms tremble with exertion, he does it. The weight lifts into the air and lands gently on the final platform. No more weights are released and Anakin lets go.

He pants heavily even as the gathered crowd applauds his success. Most Padawans did not make it to the end, let alone complete the final challenge successfully. He allows himself a moment of pride and glances at the stands in search of Obi-Wan’s face, only to remember the crushing reality of his absence.

Whatever.

He doesn’t need Obi-Wan. He is winning this tournament with or without him.

Anakin marches over to the makeshift ring they set up in the gym specifically for this event. His new lightsaber is waiting for him. The power settings are adjusted to a low frequency to avoid any serious injuries, but a touch from the blade would still sting the opponent. Today, Anakin’s opponent is a Padawan who is thirteen like him, but unlike him, this Padawan is tall. He has clearly hit some sort of growth spurt that Anakin has failed to reach, and the other boy towers over him in the ring.

Anakin hides his fear behind a careful mask. He will not show this other Padawan his nerves.

The two Padawans circle each other.

“So, they put me against Skywalker,” the boy taunts. “How come you never spar with the other Padawans? Too scared to fight with anyone except your Master?”

“I’m not scared!” Anakin says. “You’re lucky I only spar with my Master.”

“Oh, and where is your Master now?” the boy asks, looking around the gym. “It’s Kenobi, isn’t it? I don’t see him around here.”

“He’s on a mission!”

“And that’s more important to him than you are? I think that says enough.”

The whistle shrieks and Anakin growls, lunging forward at the other Padawan. Anakin’s strikes are blocked with ease and with a surprising amount of power behind them.

“Center yourself.”  Obi-Wan’s teachings reverberate through Anakin’s mind.

Even when he’s lightyears away, Obi-Wan still has a way of getting in Anakin’s head.

Anakin takes a deep breath and changes his strategy. He switches from offensive to defensive and lets the other Padawan tire himself.

“Your blade is an extension of your arm. Wield it.”

Anakin twists his blade around the other Padawan’s blade, confusing him and giving Anakin an opening. Anakin lunges forward and delivers what would have been a killing blow if his lightsaber was not set merely to stun.

The Padawan looks at Anakin with surprise.

“Skywalker wins the Padawan Tournament!” Master Windu’s voice carries with a subtle sort of excitement throughout the gym. Anakin lowers his blade and turns to the crowd of Jedi and Padawans, all cheering for him. He smiles hollowly. He doesn’t want them to know that he doesn’t care about any of their opinions of him. There’s only one opinion he cares about and he is not here to offer it.

Master Windu joins Anakin in the ring and escorts him to a platform.

“Not only has Padawan Skywalker won this year’s Padawan Tournament,” Master Windu announces to the crowd, “but he has also broken records for time spent on the obstacle course and weight lifted in the Show of Force. All Padawans performed very well today, but only one has earned the title of champion. For that, Anakin will receive this bead to commemorate his victory.”

Master Windu holds up a bright red bead to the crowd. He stands behind Anakin and silently undoes his braid.

This is wrong. It should be Obi-Wan, not Master Windu.

He can feel the pity from the other Padawans and Masters and he wants to squirm under their sympathetic stares. His eyes burn and he blinks rapidly while Mace weaves the bead into his hair.

This part is harder than anything else he did in the Padawan Tournament today.

“Congratulations Padawan Skywalker,” Mace says as he finishes tying up the braid. Anakin bows politely and tries to refrain from racing off of the stage.

Slowly, he mixes into the crowd until he is camouflaged enough to make his exit. He slips out of the door and into the deserted hallways.

Anakin walks dejectedly back to the quarters he shares with Obi-Wan, fighting back tears the whole way.

***

Anakin spends the remainder of his afternoon slumped rather lazily on the couch. His peers are all out celebrating the day’s events with their Masters, but Anakin sits alone. He tries watching the holo but can’t pay attention. Frustrated, he switches to his datapad and tries to play a few games. His interest is not captured. He sighs and flops backward, staring at the bare white ceiling.

The soft whooshing sound of the front door opening is the only thing that pulls him out of his current thoughts. Anakin sits up straight and watches Obi-Wan shuffle through the front door.

“You’re back,” Anakin says plainly like he doesn’t care at all.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan says, dropping his bag heavily in the foyer. “Anakin, I’m so sorry.”

Anakin rolls his eyes and turns away from Obi-Wan.

“Anakin, Padawan, please look at me. I’m so sorry. I tried. I tried to get here in time, but the situation on Corellia got unexpectedly dicey.”

“You should have expected it. You should have planned for it,” Anakin says, still not looking at Obi-Wan.

“I know and I’m sorry.”

Somehow, these apologies did not feel as good as the time Anakin got Force exhaustion.

He doesn’t have to take this. Anakin stands up and starts to make his way to his room.

“Anakin wait,” Obi-Wan says a little breathlessly. “Ana– Anakin can we please just sit and talk about this?”

“No!” Anakin shouts angrily, whirling back around to face Obi-Wan. “I don’t want to hear what you have to say! You weren’t there for me. Why should I be there for you?”

“I understand, Padawan, but—”

“No, you don’t! You don’t understand! All of the other Padawan’s Masters were there and they didn’t even win. You were supposed to be there! You were supposed to be there for me and you weren’t . We’re a team Master and you weren’t even there.”

“Anakin, I don’t know how to make this up to you,” Obi-Wan says. If he looks a little pale, Anakin doesn’t see it through the red-hot filter of his rage.

“You can’t. It was embarrassing. Master Windu had to put my new bead in. It should have been you!”

“Anakin can we please sit down?” Obi-Wan asks, sweat beading on his forehead.

“No,” Anakin says. “I’m done talking to you.” Anakin begins walking back towards his room.

“Ana— Anakin,” Obi-Wan whispers, and this time, Anakin catches the breathlessness in Obi-Wan’s quiet plea.

“Master?” Anakin turns to see Obi-Wan’s knees buckling underneath him. His face is pale and lax as he crumples to the floor. Anakin lunges forward to catch him, but Obi-Wan is heavier and he drags Anakin to the floor with him.

They land in a pile of tangled limbs and Anakin has to put all of his strength into rolling Obi-Wan off of him and onto his back.

“‘m sorry,” Obi-Wan slurs.

“Master? Obi-Wan?” Anakin says quickly. “Obi-Wan, what’s wrong?”

Obi-Wan groans. “‘m sorry,” he murmurs again. “Sorry I wasn’t there. Shoulda been there. Shoulda found a way.”

“It’s okay,” Anakin says, his panic making him forget about his anger completely. He peels back Obi-Wan’s dark outer robe to reveal a large red stain just under his rib cage. “What happened?”

“Told you,” Obi-Wan mumbles. “Told you things got dicey on Corellia.”

“You didn’t tell me you got shot !” Anakin protests. He pulls back Obi-Wan’s tunic to reveal the skin underneath. There is a makeshift bandage affixed to the wound, but it has been bled through. The skin around the wound is red and hot to the touch. “Master, what? When did this…? Why didn’t you go straight to the healers?”

“Needed to see you,” Obi-Wan says. “I was trying to get to you the whole time, but I couldn’t.”

“Master, this is bad . How long have you been—”

“I’m sorry, Anakin,” Obi-Wan whispers, blue eyes shut behind closed lids.

“No, no, wait. Stay with me, Master. You just got here, you have to stay with me.”

If Obi-Wan hears Anakin’s pleas, he gives no indication. Anakin shakes his shoulders and receives no response.

Anakin scrambles to his feet and heads for the door. He has to go find some help. He knows everyone is out celebrating, but someone has to still be in the temple.

As Anakin opens the door he jumps back in surprise. As it turns out, someone still is at the Temple.

“Master Windu?”

“Oh, Anakin! I was hoping I would find you here. I just wanted to check in on you. You seemed a little upset after the—”

“Master Windu,” Anakin interrupts. “I need some help!”

Mace stiffens. “What’s wrong, little one?”

“It’s Obi-Wan! He just got home and he collapsed. He’s over here.”

Mace rushes in behind Anakin and kneels by Obi-Wan’s side.

“Oh, what have you gotten yourself into now, Kenobi?” Mace says more to himself than to anyone.

Mace manages to pull Obi-Wan up and throw his arm over his shoulder. He begins dragging Obi-Wan towards the door.

“Where are you taking him?”

“To the healers,” Mace says patiently.

“Is he going to be okay?” Anakin asks nervously.

“We need to get him to the healers.” It’s not the reassuring response Anakin is hoping for. Still, he follows along dutifully until they reach the healers.

The halls are busier than usual. The Padawan Tournament has always warranted a few superficial injuries and this year is no different. Masters hover around their injured Padawans and Padawans try to hide their wounded pride. At the sight of the Master of the Order dragging Obi-Wan along with a very frightened Anakin in tow, the crowds part.

“Bring him here,” Vokara Che says, calm and collected as ever.

Anakin watches Master Windu carefully lay Obi-Wan down on a gurney.

“Mace?” Obi-Wan says weakly. “Where’s ‘kin?”

“He’s here, Knight Kenobi. He’s alright. Now let Master Che take care of you.”

“An’kin?”

“I’ve got him, Knight Kenobi. Just listen to Master Che now.”

Obi-Wan lets his head fall back on the pillow and his eyes close. Anakin watches healers swarm around him and take him to a back room.

The young Master and his Apprentice are separated once more.

***

A sharp elbow to his rib cage is what wakes Anakin from his light sleep.

“Ow,” he complains.

“Anakin?” Obi-Wan murmurs. “What...?”

“Master!” Anakin exclaims, sitting up so he can turn and look at Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan rubs a hand over tired eyes before he focuses them on Anakin.

“You’re in my bed,” Obi-Wan observes.

“I was tired,” Anakin says defensively. He, of course, can’t tell Obi-Wan that he had squeezed himself into the tight medical bed because he just wanted to be as close to him as possible. He can’t tell him that he needed the physical confirmation of his chest rising and falling to know that he still breathed, still lived, even after the healers insisted he would be fine.

“Fair enough,” Obi-Wan says mildly. “Though, you could have slept in your own bed.”

Anakin remains silent and looks away.

“But I’m glad you’re here,” Obi-Wan amends.

Anakin’s chest warms and he perks up to meet his gaze.

“You didn’t have to be here. Especially after I… Well, I’ll make it up to you. I promise,” Obi-Wan continues. Anakin can feel the guilt through their bond.

“Am I sensing more milkshakes in my future?”

“Your senses have become quite attuned, my Padawan.”

Obi-Wan gives him a conspiratorial grin and Anakin giggles at him.

Anakin lays back down and rests his head in the crook of Obi-Wan’s shoulder. “I’m glad you’re here, Master,” he says softly.

“I’m glad I’m here too, Padawan.”

[megwritesfanfiction]

Let Go, Chapter 7/?? (Raven/??)

Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Titans. This is a work of fiction that I am not making a profit off of.

A/N: So I’ve gotten a lot of people asking why don’t I update faster if I’m ahead. I try to work ahead so I can update every other week consistently. Because last week I didn’t feel like writing and a lot of stuff came up, also yesterday I slammed my thumb in my car door... Sometimes things happen to prevent me from writing. So, I am trying to avoid that and not take two years for this... Hopefully... 

Do you need to catch up? I got you! ->

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

WARNING - FLASHBACK CONTAINS LIGHT MENTION OF DRUG USE.

Flashback

Sweat blurred his vision as he curled the blanket tighter around his shoulders. Teeth chattering, Roy’s head dropped down to his chest as his chest heaved. “No,” he gritted out between stuttering clenched teeth.

Karen sighed, stepping in front of him. “I hear your con-“

His head snapped forward, falling to the trash can in between his legs as he emptied his stomach once again.

Karen rushed to his side, steadying him. “Roy,” she started, helping him lean up once more. Bringing a cold towel to his face, she wiped his chin. “I think you need-“

“No,” he told her, falling back against the medical cot. Eyes rolling to the ceiling, Roy tried to focus on anything but his pain. His head throbbed, and it felt as though every nerve in his body was on fire. His stomach rolled in wild waves of nausea and chest clenched tightly with panic. Breathing labored, Roy’s body was coated with sweat as he shivered from the cold. “I don’t n-ne-“

“Then let me monitor your vitals,” she huffed, placing a tired hand on her forehead as she watched him. “You could go into cardiac arrest or have a seizure.”

Roy chuckled tightly, looking at her as cheekily as he could manage. “I’m still,” he inhaled sharply, chest constricting. Cardiac arrest sounded pretty good if it meant he got a moment without pain. “Awake.”

“For now.” She pulled the monitors closer to his head. “And I wanna make sure you stay alive if you pass out during the detox.

“I d-don’t think,” he wheezed, laughing, eyes fluttering closed for a moment. “I’m going to pass out.” He was pretty sure he was dying though.

“We can still do the chemical detox,” Karen told him gently. Taking his left hand, she tied the tourniquet around his arm.”You can sleep dur-“

“No drugs.”

“You’re not getting high-“

“No.” Though weak, his voice was firm. “No,” he whispered, eyes closing as he focused on breathing. A small gasp escaped his lips as he felt the needle prick his skin.

“Sorry,” Karen mumbled with a small grimace.

The prick hadn’t hurt him.

Roy had injected heroin between his toes in a gas station bathroom.

Pain wasn’t the problem.

That needle stick brought a flood of nostalgia and wave of doubt. Not even twenty four hours into withdrawal, and he already missed heroin.

Alcohol.

Percocet.

Ecstasy.

Heroin.

And the long list of things he tried from strangers hands and bodies.

The conscious decision to detox meant he was going to work toward sobriety. It meant that he was going to try to deal with the long list of problems repressed.

His mother’s abandonment.

Witnessing his father burn to death.

Brave Bow’s death.

His estranged relationship with Ollie.

Jade.

Lian.

Roy squeezed his eyes shut, swallowing bile and the craving to numb his feelings. “I need,” he gasped sharply, teeth gritting together as his head throbbed. “I need this to hurt.” He wanted the consequences of relapse burned into the front of memory. His fingers dug into his arms as he trembled.

Karen finished the IV, hooking her friend up to the monitors. “Okay,” she told him quietly, placing a comforting hand against his shoulder.

“I-“ he inhaled. Eyes blurred as he watched the the floor crash against the ceiling.

“Roy?” She placed a gentle hand against his chest, shaking him. “Roy?” Karen checked his pupils, then placed her fingers against his neck for a pulse.

The steady note of asystole echoed in the med lab.

“Shit!” She cursed, immediately applying chest compressions. “Roy!” Karen shouted, as she pumped his chest.

Flash Forward

“What time is it?” Raven murmured, panicking as she pushed the hoodie draped over her. She faintly wiped the line of drool running down her chin.

Between listening to Changeling’s voicemail messages, Roy offering to take her back to Jump, and the noisy dialogue running through her mind, Raven had reached her limit. Her lighthearted morning had quickly spiraled down into overwhelming anxiety and panic. When Roy exited to the interstate, she’d hastily crawled into the back seat to locate her backpack to locate her pills for panic attacks.

She wasn’t worried about the clothes and underwear thrown during her search.

She didn’t care that Roy could hear the pills rattling in the plastic bottles.

Raven popped one of her pills in her mouth and settled back into the passenger seat, leaning back into the seat as she closed her eyes in relief. The last thing she remembered was the melody of the radio becoming quieter and Roy’s quiet humming as the world faded to black.

“Hey sleepyhead,” Roy smirked, taking a quick glance at his companion. “Have a nice nap?”

Raven roughly rubbed her eyes, leaning down as her back arched. “What time is it?” She repeated, looking at the clock in front of her.

“Almost six,” he answered with a sure nod. “I tried to wake you up when I stopped for-“

“Grilled cheese,” she smirked, shaking her hair out as she looked out at the road.

“Actually I got a double cheeseburger and a strawberry milkshake.”

“What? No fries?” Raven teased, resting her head against the seat. Her eyes moved toward the dashboard. “You’re slipping.”

He scoffed, “The fries were implied the moment I said double cheeseburger.”

“Roy?” She drawled, her head tilting at the black screen of the GPS.

“I mean they weren’t great fries,” he shrugged as he continued driving. “I’ve been hoping we could find a place that had some potato wedges.”

“Roy?”

His disappointment was evident, “At the very least some waffle fries…”

Raven shook her head, refusing to be amused by his antics. “Roy?”

“I can’t wait till we get to Chicago. I gotta see a man about a deep dish pizza.”

“Harper!”

Roy’s head snapped over to her for a moment, “Roth?”

At least she had his attention. “Why is the GPS off?”

“Oh that,” he answered, wiggling his fingers around the wheel. His neck stretched as he gazed into the rear view mirror and lowered the sun visor. “I know where we’re going.”

“You know how to get to Chicago?”

“We’re not going to Chicago.”

Raven’s eyes widened in confusion as she sat frozen in the passenger seat. She reached forward, snatching the GPS from the dash mount.

“I know where we’re going,” Roy assured casually.

“I didn’t know you were so familiar with Utah.” Her head bounced against the headrest as she waited for the GPS to start. Her fingers tapped against the outside of the device as her eyes narrowed at him.

“We’re not in Utah.”

Raven didn’t have to turn her head to see his smug satisfied grin. “Well,” she started, looking down at the map loading in her hands. “Colorado then.”

“We’re in Arizona,” Roy told her factually. “You hungry? I know you haven’t had lunch, and I could totally go for a sn-“

Arizona? “Why are we in Arizona?!”

“Why wouldn’t we be in Arizona?”

“Because it’s off course.”

“We have a course?”

“She growled, ”Pull over. I’m driving.”

“No-“

“Pull. Over.”

xxxxxxxxxxxx

“Think she’s gonna call him?”

Nightwing allowed his masked eyes to slide to his peripheral vision as he looked at the changeling sitting in the kitchen behind them. “Not my business,” he murmured quietly as he selected his character for the game. Nightwing cleared his throat as he straightened his back against the couch and focused on the big screen in front of him.

Changeling hadn’t moved from the table since breakfast.

After his brief conversation with Raven, Nightwing ventured into the kitchen for breakfast. Changeling had already been at the table with a bowl of cereal in front of him, spoon in his right hand, and cell phone resting beneath his left. Green eyes locked on the wall in front of him, he didn’t bothering acknowledging Nightwing or Cyborg when either greeted him. He barely shrugged his shoulders to reject their offer to play GameStation with them.

“Well he better get his act together,” Cyborg grumbled, twisting to face the Changeling. “Before he eats all of the Sugar Cocoa Noms,” Cyborg‘s voice boomed echoing through the main room and into the kitchen.

The sound of the cereal bowl clanking against the metal sink echoed loudly, followed the changeling’s angry footsteps. “Fuck you, dude,” Changeling growled, showing Cyborg a choice finger and hugging the box of cereal against his chest.

Cyborg chuckled, watching the changeling retreat.

“Did you have to antagonize him?” Nightwing sighed, tiredly shaking his head as he paused the game. “Really?”

“What?” Cyborg shrugged, innocently. “I just bought that box of cereal. If he wants to eat his feelings, then he can go buy his own damn box.”

Nightwing huffed loudly, head dropping forward between his shoulders, “I can not believe you, Victor.”

“Don’t you “Victor” me!” Cyborg scuffed proudly. “I am all about supportive because he got his little feelings hurt by his little girlfriend-“

“Girlfriend?!” That was certainly an interesting word choice.

Cyborg rolled his eyes. “I’m half robot, not blind. Those two have been hot and cold since day one, so I’m not surprised that he’s upset about her leaving.”

Nightwing nodded. That was fair.

“I am surprised Raven didn’t bother telling him about her move, though,” Cyborg spoke slowly. His eyes carefully shifted to the masked Titan next to him. “Considering she told everyone else.”

“She didn’t tell Terra.”

“Her and Terra were never close.” Nice try.

Nightwing shrugged, fingers fiddling with the controller. It really wasn’t his business.

“You know something,” Cyborg’s eyes widened with interest. “What do you know?”

“Well,” Nightwing inhaled deeply, looking up at the television and adjusting the controller in hands. “I know that it’s none of my business.”

That was a cop out. “And?”

“You might wanna pay attention before I whoop your ass,” Nightwing smirked, immediately starting the fight on screen.

“I wasn’t ready!”

Raven had watched the sun disappear below the horizon, her fingers nervously clutching a bag of french fries. They’d been driving through miles of the endlessly empty roads of Arizona desert. She’d given up counting tumbleweeds and brightly striped boulders. Instead, Raven passed the time by keeping her eyes peeled for the rare sight of lights from a gas station, motel, or some sign that they hadn’t strayed so far from civilization.

“Will you chill out and eat your fries?” Roy chuckled, shaking his head as he continued to drive.

“I’m saving them in case we get stranded in the desert,” she told him with a sigh that was somewhere between teasing and annoyed. “I can start with the fries, then work on eating you to survive.”

He laughed, “You know a lot of people who are lost in the desert are found dead with food and water on them.”

Raven’s eyes narrowed, her nails stabbed through the damp paper bag as she eyed him strangely. “Was that supposed to comfort me?” She wondered. “Cause it didn’t.”

“These are important survival tips,” he nodded confidently, flipping the high beams. “Eat when you’re hungry and drink when you’re thirsty.”

“Nice for you to mention this now.” The car jerked and wobbled as he turned unto the dirt path. Raven leaned forward in her seat, eyes squinting. “When you’re going off road,” she nodded, her lips tight. “Into the desert. Miles from civilization.”

“I know exactly where we are.”

Dust swirled around the car as they road over rocks and gravel. “We’re driving in the middle of the desert.” The lights from the little service station were fading into the night in her side mirror.

“We’re on a side road headed toward our destination,” Roy assured.

“You know know the word road has certain implications, right?”

He cast her a quick affirmative glance as he continued driving, “I know.”

“The word road literally means an open way for vehicles.”

He couldn’t argue with that.

“We,” she looked out into the darkness, dust, and dirt. At least the moon was coming out. “Are not on a road. I can’t recall the last time I had to avoid shrubs in the middle of the road.”

“Just because there isn’t a sign pointing to it, doesn’t mean it’s not a road.”

Raven huffed defiantly. There wasn’t much she could really do in this situation, so she may as well relax. “You know that would be really profound if we weren’t lost.”

“Again, not lost,” Roy told her as he continued to drive. “I know exactly where we are, and where we’re going. Even if we were lost, there’s nothing wrong with that. You get somewhere eventually.”

“How could you possibly know where we are?”

The corners of his lips turned down as he inhaled sharply. “My father,” he struggled, clearing his throat to keep his voice steady and to the point. “My father was a forest ranger and after he passed away the Navajo took me in.” Roy looked at her with a sad smirk, “I know a thing or two about navigating the land, Rae.”

She relaxed allowing her back to fall against the seat. Her fingers loosened their death grip on the bag of fries as she cast him a soft glance. “Okay,” she told him quietly.

“We’re almost there,” he whispered. Placing a reassuring hand on her knee, Roy gave it a little squeeze.

Wherever there was.

Raven glanced at the darkness in front of her focusing on the dark sky and stars glimmering above them. Leaning into the headrest, she exhaled loudly as she felt her body sinking into the soft upholstery. Her eyes slowly closed as a little yawn escaped, pressing the button to roll her window down.

Might as well meditate.

Her lips mouthed her mantra as she focused on her breathing.

The gentle rocking of the car.

Roy’s warm hand against her leg.

The cool blast from the night air.

The crackling of gravel and dirt beneath the rough tire treads.

“And,” Roy’s voice chirped excitedly, pulling to a smooth stop. He shifted the car into park and unbuckled his seatbelt. “We’re here!”

xxxxxxxxxxxx

“Really?”

He didn’t even flinch, phone still firmly in his grasp as his thumbs tapped out word after word. Brows knitted in angry concentration and fang sinking into his bottom lip, Changeling hadn’t even noticed her.

“Okay, look,” Terra huffed, snatching the phone out of his hands.

He frowned, looking angrily at his girlfriend. “Give it back,” he requested, too tired to really argue with her.

“No,” she stated firmly. “It’s almost midnight, don’t tell me you’ve been sitting here all day eating cereal and texting Raven?”

Actually, he’d hung out in their room and the roof before coming back to the kitchen to eat cereal and stare at his phone, but he thought it wise not to argue the details. Changeling groaned running his hands over his face in frustration, “What the hell else am I supposed to do?”

“Let it go!” She exclaimed, gesturing to the walls around them. “Like everyone else in this tower!”

“Why is everyone’s acting like this is okay?” He frowned, slouching in his chair. Changeling placed his fingers against his temples massaging the area in firm slow circles.

Raven would do the same thing anytime she was frustrated.

Terra sighed, dropping into the chair next to him. She set his phone aside, gently taking his hands as she faced him. “I am really trying hard to be supportive of whatever you’re going through, but-“

“I’m not going through anything!” He snapped bitterly, flinching. “One of our teammates just up and decided to ditch us! No one is upset! No one is talking about it!”

“What exactly do we need to say, Gar?” Terra questioned. She inhaled sharply, forcing her tone to be even but firm. “Because I don’t know. I don’t understand what’s going on.”

His elbows crashed against the table top as he hung his head in his hands. Fingers ripped through his scalp as he growled with frustration. “She just…” He shook his head, breathing sharply. “She just up and left us. Not a word, a goodbye, not a hint, not a fucking clue. And it, absolutely, bothers the fuck out of me, Terra.”

“Okay,” she nodded, sympathetically. “So what can we do about that?”

His spine slowly straightened, eyes wide and with hopeless confusion as reality flooded his senses. What could he do?

“You’ve spent the last day calling and texting her nonstop, and she hasn’t responded,” Terra explained softly. “Nightwing isn’t worried. Cyborg isn’t worried, and for god’s sake, neither is Starfire.” The blonde shook her head in disbelief as she gave another shrug. “And if Starfire isn’t worried, then…” She trailed off unsure of what to say.

“That’s my point,” he growled. “They should be worried.”

“For what? She’s gone.” Her fingers gently threaded in his hair, tracing soothing circles against his scalp as she watched his mind work furiously to understand. “Okay, we miss her, but the world keeps going, Gar. You get over it in time.”

Changeling felt his eyes open as realization washed over him. “They knew,” he whispered.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

“Where exactly is here?” Raven wondered quietly as she slowly followed Roy out of the car. Eyes focused on the stars, she stepped in front of the car.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen so many stars.

Maybe on Azarath under a different sky.

“Watch your step.” Roy gently grabbed her arm, stopping her from moving forward. He reached inside his pocket. Clicking the key fob, the headlights illuminated through the impossibly black night air around them.

A large fire pit was nestled between two large tipis a few yards in front of them. Small desert shrubs and cacti decorated the deep orange dirt of the desert and beyond the small camp, a large cliff.

“We’re camping?” She asked slowly looking at him and then back at the tipis.

Roy nodded, “We are. I figured you could use a little nature.”

She took a few steps forward, running her fingers over the heavy material of the tipi. She slid her head inside the large opening, taking a step inside.

The bright lights from the headlights permeated through the white cotton of the tipi allowing her to see. A large rug with bright geometric designs was spread in the center with an ornate low table resting on top. A small silver oil lamp sat on top of the table next to a decorative statue. There was a small bed against the wall opposite the opening, fully set with traditional blankets and a bright white fur blanket at the end. Decorative floor pillows were spread through the tipi and deep red chair sat on the side.

This certainly wasn’t what she was expecting to find in the middle of nowhere.

“Welcome to the Navajo Reservation.”

Her fingers touched the soft blanket at the end of the bed, curling around the fur. “Navajo Reservation?”

“Yep,” he confirmed stepping into the doorway with a smirk. “Granted, this experience is more for the tourist, but…” He shrugged, trailing off.

“Cause all Native Americans used tipis, right?” She smirked knowingly.

“I mean the hogans are down the way a bit, but the tipis are a bigger attraction, especially during the warm weather months, but neither here nor there,” Roy admitted with a small sigh. “I figured you could use some quiet time.” He tilted his head to the sky. “With stars.”

Raven smiled, eyes drifting to the very top of the tipi, “I think you’re right.”

To Be Continued

[cioty]

At Scale

The Rebuild games are incredible, I would be doing them a disservice if I didn’t mention that upfront, but I’m not here to talk about how good they were. As far as mechanics go, every entry in the Rebuild series has the same premise and basic mechanics. You play as a band of survivors who have control over a few blocks in the middle of a zombie-infested city. Your job is to reclaim the city and rebuild.

The moment to moment gameplay consists of choosing survivors that specialise in various skills and sending them out into enemy territory to accomplish a goal. There are 5 main goals. You can kill zombies, you can reclaim a square that has no zombies on it, you can scavenge for food and items and you can recruit survivors hiding on a space. Every one of these tasks except reclaiming has danger and can kill or injure one of your survivors. Hordes periodically spawn to attack your base and events fire from time to time. Some of these events are triggered by missions, but others exist to simulate the city. These include moral decisions and allow the player to express themselves. 

However, as you gain more survivors, each with unique talents and a new token to move across the map, each turn of the game takes longer to play and both the rewards and punishments that are given to you during the game loop become less consequential. Simply put, the beginning of a game of rebuild has you making interesting choices and tactical decisions with outcomes that meaningfully effect the outcome of your game. However, none of these things are maintained as the game scales up. The game isn’t simply the sum of its parts.

Now, after all that, I want to talk about Downwell.

Downwell is an incredible game. It has incredibly tight gameplay. Its systems feel into each other with an almost ethereal elegance. Again, it’s good.

It’s also a game that grows with its players. You can get pretty far in Downwell by just following your instincts, but eventually you will discover the combo system. It is this system that allows Downwell to grow alongside you as a player. As you get better, Downwell encourages you to play in harder and harder ways.

However, it doesn’t grow alongside you forever. I do not play Downwell anymore.

When you first start playing downwell, your runs are only a few seconds, maybe a minute if you’re lucky. Each run brings new promise, novelty. There’s a special spontaneity to it. Each run carries no weight behind it. Contrary to the spirit of my “Raise the Stakes post”, sometimes you want no stakes. Sometimes the player has to feel free to experience the sensation of a game without strings attached, without feeling like you’re starting an obligation (though there are definitely stakes when you get further in, so this is almost the best of both worlds).

However, I’ve put in a significant amount of time into Downwell. When I start a run, I know it’s going to take 20 or so minutes. It’s tiring to consider starting a game. What was such a free experience of testing my limits against the game has turned itself into a chore. When it comes time to stop, I feel disappointed that it was me who had to end the game for myself and not the game. I feel disappointed that I died because I was playing stupidly because I wanted to make the game a little harder, a little quicker and more deadly.

Rebuild has a similar problem to downwell. The game becomes significantly less fun after you’ve carved out a moderate section of land. Specifically, you have a lot more survivors at that point, so assigning them all the missions becomes more of an exercise in spending your own time to figure out logistics than in making snappy, pithy strategic decisions. Each survivor and gun and city block also matters less. “Who cares if I lose that apartment? I have 9 more”, “Who cares if I lose one solider? I have 8 of them”. Each individual loss is robbed of its significance and any string of them that could result in you being in significant peril starts to not just feel like a punchy loss, but distinctly unfair. This goes the other way too. Deciding to try and reclaim a farm, for example, has significantly less weight when it will account for 1/9th of your food supply as opposed to 1/3rd. Of course, the situation is a little more complicated than what I described, but the underlying phenomena is still there. Why do all these games refuse to scale well?

^^^This is just one example of how large rebuild 3 can get. 

In some ways I’m sure this is a bad question. Both these games seem to fail to scale in different ways. The specific mechanics that cause them to play out differently across the late-game of each run and skill level respectively are completely different. 

However, I think that despite their differences, they’re interesting case studies that may or may not share underlying patterns in how we perceive them that, if not applicable to each other, will be useful to watch out for in any system we design in the future.

To start with, Downwell has a very strong feedback loop that drives early gameplay. You play, you quickly die, you come back. Progress in this is tied to the amount of time one stays alive, which has the eventual result of making this loop become obsolete. Downwell supplements the moment to moment loop and the game loop that I just mentioned with a combo system. This system functions similarly to the feedback loop I just mentioned, but it only kicks in for players who have a level of mastery over the game’s systems high enough to find it. Discovering this system transforms the focus of the player from the scale of minutes to the scale of seconds. It reinvigorates the game by giving your inputs meaning and purpose beyond the broad goals not taking damage and moving downwards. This cycle of success followed by inevitable failure introduced by the combo system happens on the scale of seconds at first. however, as the game progresses, it might take a minute or two before you hit the ground. The last zone in Downwell is called the void for a reason.

It’s tempting to blame Rebuild’s balance for the single note end-game. After playing all 3 games in the Rebuild series for an unreasonably long amount of time, one of three things tends to happen.

You die very quickly. You fail to generate enough of an advantage early on and you lose.

You reach a critical mass and there’s nothing the game can throw at you that can destroy you.

You hit a spot right in the middle. You gain enough of an advantage in the early game to survive, but reclaiming land becomes exponentially slower. Eventually you don’t get to reclaim any land at all, but the hordes can’t overpower your walls (these walls are stationed by the soldiers that would normally be clearing land for you.). The game keeps spawning more zombies around you and in this state it might take hours of real world time to die (assuming you don’t quit). (Interestingly this is a much bigger problem in rebuild 3, as 2 is very gung-ho about killing survivors who go on dangerous missions).

In a way, Rebuild’s balance reminds me of a specific symptom that MOBAs have: the tendency for games to be decided in the first 15 minutes, but for them to take 30-60 minutes in total to play out. However, there are more factors at play in a player’s enjoyment than just time and their ability to affect the outcome of the game.

Last year, I made a board game where you controlled two sides of wizards hurling fireballs at each other. It would take a long time to explain the rules, but the fireballs behaved somewhat like the infection in pandemic. They would persist and explode if enough fire was in a specific location. The fire would also fade over time, which was represented by faces on dice. It wasn’t a particularly difficult game to think about, Due to rules governing the fire, it was easy to compartmentalize the board into a few areas. We didn’t think about the game in terms of individual tiles that were in one of two states. We’re humans, we’re pattern recognition machines. While computers might need to sort through data using rigid methods that take into account every rigidly defined detail they’re fed, we perceive the world fundamentally differently.

At the end of the round in this game, we would have to adjust the face on every dice to represent the fire burning out. The time that decrementing the dice took was a reminder that our perception didn’t match up with what we were required to do to carry out the game: while we saw patterns, the system saw individual cells. In an ideal game system, we might send instructions to the game based on how we perceive it, and the game would carry out our instructions at the same rate it took to think up a plan. This disconnect between how we perceive and interact with these games is interesting. We also see this kind of thing in rebuild. One good illustration of this is the survivor management system in rebuild 3. Once you’ve bothered to reclaim a specific tile that allows you to do research, you can research a technology called survivor management. This allows you to periodically pick up perks for your survivors over time. These do things like give them a bonus in a random stat, or provide a bonus while doing a certain mission, or even provide happiness bonuses while on a mission with others because they’re a musician.

These perks are very flavourful and could add a whole lot of personality to the game. However, these perks will become a nuisance soon after you get them. The differentiation between survivors here becomes a source of meaningless noise rather than a source of tactical decision making because of the amount of perks each survivor has and how many survivors you have to manage. In short, they prevent you from easily compartmentalizing the game in a way that you really should be able to. They exacerbate the existing problem of “placing 20 individual units each turn is frustrating” by making you commit each individual survivor’s parks to memory and preventing the formation of more coherent structures.

However, this whole idea about rebuild not being good at presenting information in a way that we can easily compress and process is only half right. Rebuild does a ton of excellent compression. For example, combining your tiles into a fort compresses the complexity of previous gains. Only the stuff on the edge matters, because that’s where zombies might try to tear down your walls. Losing tiles peels back the complexity of the fort like an onion, which is a really elegant system. The tokens that represent survivors can also be placed on top of each other to form a stack. This stack can be moved everywhere and otherwise function as if they were one survivor for the purpose of sending them on missions. The structure of the cities can also be compressed to a degree. While meaningful variance in the tiles around you at the start of the game is almost guaranteed, the cities also have rural areas with lots of farms and fields and urban centers with Apartments, Chinese food shops and power plants.

If we apply this idea of information compression to Downwell, the most immediate example is that some sections of the screen are dangerous, but others are not. This is possible because there are only two consequences when interacting with an enemy. You might land on top of a safe enemy, in which case you refuel and avoid damage, or you touch an enemy in any other way, in which case you take one damage. This is one of those cases where this factor probably helps Downwell to become more complicated. To make the game more interesting as the player becomes better, Downwell chooses to add mroe enemies. If the enemies in Downwell had a more diverse range of effects, it would be much harder to read the screen. 

This wasn’t the most focused post. I think that both the Rebuilds and Downwell have loops that doesn’t necessarily deal well with one or more of the variables that effects them. In Downwell’s case, both the main loops, (dying > respawning and the combo loop) are tied to time, which means that as one gets better, it takes more time to reach the reward part of the loop.

Rebuild’s main loops (gaining and losing resources, survivors and territory) do not get longer, but the reward or punishment diminishes in value, meaning that it takes more time to achieve the same result (which translates into lower enjoyment).

Rebuild’s enjoyment as it scales up its systems diminishes as a result of needing to process a lot of non-compressible information. I think I would like to analyze more games in this way in the future. In this post I think I fell into pointing out “Here is an example of this existing, and therefore I can make conclusions about it based on a shallow understanding of its nature”. However, I think the mechanisms behind pattern recognition and and other areas of cognitive psychology are a bit more complicated than that.

I hope you enjoyed reading this, whoever you are.

[riverofmemoriesft]

. Between the Lines . 179

"Are you sure about this, Luce?" Natsu asked. They stood together in the entrance to the arena, Cana nearby. "You don't have to do this, you know."

"No, no, it's fine," Lucy disagreed with a hum, strapping the gauntlets that Sting had given her on. She gave Natsu a quick smile, propping her hands on her hips. "I've got Cana going in there with me and Yukino, too," she added, gesturing to where the Twin Dragons were giving Yukino a similar talk down. She gave him a comforting look. "I'll be fine, Natsu, trust me."

"I do," he huffed. "It's that princess and your stalker that I don't trust."

Lucy laughed and gently pressed her forehead to his in a reassuring touch. "It'll be fine, Natsu," she repeated, closing her eyes. He copied, his eyes fluttering shut, and then pulled back. She smiled warmly at him. "Go sit with our nakama and cheer for me, okay? I'll do my best to win."

"Kay," he rumbled. "I'll make sure no one comes after you."

She merely smiled and sent him off before taking her place beside Cana. Yukino joined them along with the three mages of the other guilds - one of which was a friendly Chelia. Chelia offered Lucy a beaming smile and then focused as the announcer called for them to enter.

"Welcome to the last game of the Grand Magic Games!" the announcer shouted as they all walked in. Lucy exchanged a determined look with Cana. "Tomorrow marks the duo fighting and the last day will contain the battling of the entire team!"

Cheering exploded from the crowds.

Lucy grinned, somewhat excited to be given another chance at fighting. She and Natsu would be put up against Sting and Rogue, and Lucy had heard Mavis giving a lecture to Natsu about how to use a Unison Raid. She was sure she'd get a lecture that night and they'd kick Sting and Rogue to hell and back the next day.

"Today's game will consist of one simple idea: tag, you're it!"

"What?" Cana muttered, bewildered.

"The goal is simple: touch as many people as you can! Whether it be through magic or through physical touch, each touch gets you a point! The one with the most points wins!"

Lucy grinned. She had this one handled. She raked through the Spirits she held and decided on Loke and Virgo. Loke would enjoy the challenge and the flirtatious Lion would be more than willing to run around grabbing women - which she hoped Erza went after him for later - and Virgo would have the advantage of sneaking around under ground.

She could see Yukino's gaze searching nothing as she, too, picked out who she'd be summoning, and they exchanged looks of amusement as they spread themselves out at the announcer's demand.

"Go!"

"Open!" Lucy shouted, snapping her keys out. "Gate of the Lion! Leo!" She ducked to avoid Chelia as Chelia flew at her, laughing. Loke spun her safely out of the way of Lamia Scale's mage, grinning. "Open! Gate of the Virgin! Virgo!"

"At your service, Princess," Virgo greeted, bowing respectfully. "Shall I deliver their punishment?"

"Touch as many as you can!" Lucy ordered, and then laughed when Cana sprung at her, cards chasing the others around. Loke used his light to burn her cards away. Virgo dove into the ground with determination on her face.

As they chased one another around the arena, Lucy found that she was pretty good at the game, which had been slotted for ten minutes at most. She miraculously swept out of Pisces' touch when the Spirit lunged at her on Yukino's pleading demand and she somehow avoided Cana's cards.

And when the timer went off, Loke and Virgo returned to her side, both panting softly for breath. Loke grinned. "I touched plenty of women for you, Princess."

"Not surprised," she muttered, rolling her eyes and planting her hands on her hips.

Everyone heaved for air, looking expectantly up to listen for who'd won how many points. "In sixth place we have Mermaid Heel," the announcer said after a moment of waiting, and Mermaid Heel cheered despite the disappointed look on the woman's face. "In fifth comes Blue Pegasus. Sabertooth takes fourth!"

"Good job, Yukino," Lucy praised, calling her words to Yukino, who flushed when her guild joined in and shouted her name.

"Third place goes to Lamia Scale and second to Fairy Tail Team A, leaving first with Fairy Tail Team B!"

Lucy blinked, and then smiled so big, she thought that her cheeks would split. Excitement lit her face as she threw her arms around Loke in a tight hug, thanking him and Virgo excitedly. Fairy Tail exploded into cheers, shouting praise to Lucy and Cana, and Lucy felt the despair over her loss to Minerva vanish.

She'd done well, she felt. Cana gave her a huge grin and a thumbs up as they made their way back to the entrance of the stadium. Lucy sent Virgo and Loke back to their own Realm after thanking them again and Yukino joined the pair of women a moment later, eyes warm.

"You did well," she praised Lucy, her eyes glowing. "And I'm sure you'll do well tomorrow though I do hope that my team wins, you understand."

Lucy laughed. "Of course. It'll be fun to spar with Rogue and Sting."

She wouldn't have to worry about them doing anything brutal at least.

Yukino left them soon after and Lucy and Cana were met by an excited group of individuals just outside of the entryway to the stadium. "Lucy!" Happy shrieked, slamming into her. Lucy hugged him tightly, and he purred proudly at her. Natsu was next, throwing an arm over her shoulders with a proud look, and the rest of their team filed in to praise her.

Lucy didn't care much for other people's opinions on a normal basis, but she was excited that she'd done something good for the guild and appreciated it.

"Good job, Luce!" Natsu cheered. "Tomorrow, we're gonna kick Sting's ass!"

"Rogue's going to be there, too," she reminded.

"Yeah, but who cares."

"You should, he can hide in your shadow," Lucy pointed out.

Natsu shrugged carelessly as Makarov and Mavis came over to greet she and the equally as excited Cana with warm gazes. Mavis turned a gentle smile on Lucy as Wendy told Lucy that she'd been cheering extra loudly for her, and Lucy giggled, hugging the dragon slayer.

No one took notice of the tired and haunted look on Charle's face.

Natsu could barely hold still and it was driving the blonde crazy as he bounced back and forth beside her, his onyx eyes full of impatience as he glanced back and forth between the line they were in for some quick food and Gajeel, who stood nearby with Levy and her teammates, speaking to the cat in her arms with a thoughtful look. Finally, holding Happy, Lucy jabbed him with her elbow, bothered. "Natsu!"

"Huh?" he muttered, looking at her.

"Stop with this...moving thing you're doing!" she demanded with a huff. "It's driving me crazy!"

"Sorry," he muttered, forcing himself to stand still as she retrieved their food. She handed it to him, grateful to food for distracting Fairy Tail's Salamander from his excitement. Natsu chowed down without hesitation. Lucy ate her food a little slower, but enjoyed the cheer with which Natsu ate.

"Hey, Natsu!" a voice suddenly called.

He looked over his shoulder. Romeo came sprinting out from between two people, his eyes narrowed. He grinned at Natsu faintly. "Natsu," he gasped, doubling over and panting for air. Natsu impatiently waited for him to catch his breath and finally, Romeo rasped, "Mavis wanted to talk with you in private."

Natsu fumbled his food, nearly dropping it. "What?!" he muttered, stunned. "Why?"

He shook his head. "I don't know. She told me to come find you."

"Okay, I guess I can go talk with her…" His gaze shifted to Lucy uncertainly, not wanting to leave her alone, but Lucy waved him off with the promise that she'd find someone. "Okay," he repeated. Romeo led him away and Happy cheerfully purred from atop her head that he'd protect her.

"Thanks, Happy," she chuckled and then jumped when something jabbed her in the back. She whirled around.

"Hey, Blondie," Cobra said with an impatient huff, narrowing his eye. He was alone, his hands on his hips. His good eye never left her face as he suddenly leaned in, muttering in a low voice, "Thought ya should know. Heard something weird earlier. Couldn't figure out where it came from though."

"Okay?" Lucy said. "What was it?"

Cobra looked agitated as he said bluntly, reciting what he'd heard, "'How do I get around this? I can't allow it to happen. Should I kill them? Disable them? Is she against me or with me? Do I kill her? Who do I dispose of? Who is going to cause the worst of problems? Definitely them. I have to figure out how to deal with them.' Kept goin' on like this. Couldn't decipher who they were talking about. Kinda have to focus to hear thoughts. Was some kind of person muttering to themselves."

Lucy shivered. "Great. Thank you for telling me. But why haven't you told anyone else?"

Cobra shrugged. "Kinana would tell Master. Don't want this gettin' around and causing a panic, ya know? I don't know who was saying it. Can't even give you a clue as to who to look out for except that it was definitely a guy."

"But why me?" Lucy demanded.

Cobra made a sound that was akin to a growl. "You're the one everything's centered around, ain't ya?"

"Yeah," Lucy admitted. "For whatever reason."

Cobra snorted, rolling his eyes. "Damn it, Blondie. You're kinda blind. I'm thinkin' you might be one of the ones the bastard was talkin' about, 'cause he mentioned keys a couple times. He needs keys."

"Don't let him get them."

Lucy's eyes widened just a fraction. She whirled on her heel and Cobra swished some venom in his mouth, ready to fire it off should he need to. No one took notice of the person cloaked in black. This person was clearly different from the one who'd been stalking her, Lucy realized. So much smaller. Petite. With a high-pitched hoarse voice that didn't match anyone Lucy knew. Yet, it was familiar.

"What?" she whispered.

"Don't let him get the keys of the Zodiac," the cloaked girl said angrily. "You can't let him. If he gets the keys of the Zodiac, you've doomed us all." Her voice trembled. "Please."

"Who the hell are you?" Cobra huffed. He looked almost panicked, nervous. Lucy found out why when he rasped, "Why can't I hear your thoughts?"

The woman gave a faint laugh. "Because we figured out how to block them. Please," she continued, turning her head back to Lucy. Lucy couldn't see her face, but she could feel the sharp pleading eyes on her. "Please. You have to stay with Natsu, Lucy. You can't let anyone separate you from here on out. The second you do...they'll strike and bring hell upon us."

"Who are you?" Lucy croaked. Happy shivered atop of her head, his tail lashing back and forth desperately, and the cloaked girl shifted back as she realized they were gaining the attention of the nearby Levy and Gajeel, who was staring harshly at the girl in the cloak.

"I can't tell you," she answered hastily, "But please. We're doing our best to help you. Don't judge us too harshly. We're...trying. We're trying and he's trying so hard, even if he keeps breaking our rules. He can't help it. The one following you that is. I'll have a word with him. Don't approach him." Without another word, she spun around and bolted.

Gajeel suddenly sprang forward, a scowl on his lips, and Levy called his name as she watched him in confusion. He caught the girl by her cloak, but she hissed something that no one but Cobra heard.

Cobra's gaze darted over Lucy's head to stare at someone.

Gajeel released her with a shocked look and then she was gone, his crimson gaze staring at the cloaked girl as she slid out of view. "Gajeel!" Levy called, rushing over with a frown on her face. "What-"

"Her face," he rasped without prompting. Lucy frowned at the odd way his voice trembled. As if he wanted to say something, but didn't dare. As if he wanted to tell them more, but if he did, it would hurt them. Without another word, he shook his head and stalked away as quickly as he could. Levy exchanged worried looks with Jet and Droy and then jogged after him, her brow furrowed as she called his name.

"Did you figure out who it was?" Happy asked as they turned to Cobra. Lucy pressed her lips together when he hesitated before saying hastily that he didn't.

Liar.

Cobra snorted, but said nothing more, only, "Here comes your boyfriend, Blondie. I'm out."

"What happened?" Natsu demanded as he approached, out of breath from running full speed for them. Happy launched into the tale for her, too lazy to remove himself from Lucy's head, and Lucy continued to watch after where the girl had disappeared to, stunned.

Just how many strangers were running around?