doomelem-aus

[doomelem-aus]

A new exhibit in the Capital Historic Royal Museum pops up. A journal, said to belong to Lord Zephryal’s many reincarnations. It is cryptic, and only leaves a few hints as to the whereabouts and general actions of this reincarnation. The plaque in front of the glass box that holds the journal displays the title that a 30th century scholar scribbled to describe the journal when it was rediscovered in that era. It simply says, “an encounter recorded in the written word.”  (I had some time on my hands, and also photoshop, and an old fic that Wisp wrote on an old version of both of our Stories. This is a visual metaphor to go with the story, i guess?)

[doomelem-aus]

marco begrudgingly giving cricket plant keeping advice because she sucks at it.

[doomelem-aus]

new concepts

dragon marco?

and dm is the dragon king?

longwei as dm’s dad and their working ontheir relationship.

[doomelem-aus]

wow a clans au update - jan 27

I finally got some new inspo from recent au’s with B. Now with more uptight Marco.

Keep reading

[doomelem-aus]

[doomelem-aus]

brent further adding to the god au

[doomelem-aus]

god doomelem au

Iridona, in retrospect, maybe could have seen this coming.

Multiple times, she’s visited Lord Colis, updating him personally on the status of the research team. It all started as a simple journey up the coast to take note of any environmental or biological phenomena that could hint to the presence of the fated powerful artifacts that can defend the Kingdom against the ever growing threat of the Underworld.

She has spent a handful of afternoon meetings relaying the teams progress to the Head Priestess of the Darkness temple, and eventually to Lord Colis himself. At first, she was intimidated and self conscious around him, considering that he’s the god who was responsible for casting the entire Thousand Knives Army into eternal darkness in the Battle of the Blood Moon ions ago, and a number of other mystical feats. But everytime she stood in his throne room, he’d sit before her, glowing and calm and patient and he would always listen to her reports. His face was half covered, as with all gods, by an intricate mask, one that matched the sleek black and white mosaic that adorned the walls and floors of his temple, and his occasional smirk became a personal goal for her. His whole form has a glow about it, a hazy golden outline that shines the brightens around the black flecked wings of his, ones that flutter ever so slightly when he gets bad news, much to her amusement. Apparently, he thought her increasingly candid remarks on the trip were amusing.

Of course, after awhile a majority of those comments were embarrassingly enough, about the navigator of the trip, a former Knightengale named Marco. At first he was the grumpy asshole of the group, the wet blanket who couldn’t take the stick from up his ass long enough to enjoy the hot springs of Andoria or coo over the adorable Mountain goats and their fluffball appearances. But at some point, the group, Irid included, needed him, his guidance and his reassurance after their carriage was attacked by a group of Underworld dissenters, rebels who were supporting the growing rebellion against Lord Zephyral of the Underworld. She and her group od researchers had no idea to defend themselves, they all ended up nursing their wounds around a campfire to see Marco in a different light. All of his stuffy bullshit about being careful was partially true. After Marco got an infection from his own injuries while defending him, he started to see them in a different light too.

“Funny what depending on someone else does to you, to how you feel about them,” Irid remembers saying to Lord Colis during that report, taking his small smirk as encouragement to express her excitement at the groups growing camaderie.

Even when the group started to learn self defense from Marco, even when their fact-finding mission clearly became a survival trek to Mount Olympus, even when it was clear that they, the researchers, had to find and wield the artifacts themselves in order to stop the growing factions of world-dominating rebels from the Underworld, Marco was there to encourage and train and support and defend the group.

And soon enough, Iridona found herself talking to him more, seeking his opinion or his company, craving his smile and his laugh or even his grumpy attitude so she could nudge him and say something smart-alec and get that little smile he tried so hard to hide.

She even let slip to Lord Colis that even seeing him made her heart flip and her face was burning far to hot to look the god in the eye as she said it, and perhaps seeing his reaction would have made it more obvious for her.

But the real clincher came when Iridona was plunging, free falling in the air after the Rebels destroyed the stone platform they were battling on, watching with laughter in their eyes as they fall, and Iridona thought that dying in Marco’s arms wasn’t the worst way to go, if a bit ironic.

She struggles a little as he holds her closer, deliriously wanting to crane her neck up to get a look at him before they fall to their death, when they suddenly jolt mid-air, and are inexplicably no longer falling.

There’s growing cries from the distant ruins above them, and the bright flash of light above Iridona’s head.

She looks up and-

Golden, black flecked wings flap, jolting them both until they catch the air current, and tendrils and light and darkness swirl around what was Marco’s form and is quickly becoming the Holy Lord Colis’ fucking winged ass carrying Iridona and himself away from certain death.

Marco-Colis looks down at Irid, who’s too shocked to be angry and too shocked to glare at Marco-Colis’ glowing golden eyes meet hers. His brows furrow (because of course she can see his Holy face sans masknow of all times), mouth pursed as he looks back at the rebel faction, and Iridona has to hold back the urge to slap him, because Hello, God, and also he’s keeping them from becoming a human shaped splat on the ruins below.

[doomelem-aus]

brent grent drabble challenge wip

Brent drabble idea: Irid and Marco getting super weirdly into a board game

maybe a game that involves strategy that Irid keeps winning by luck

and it infuriates Marco, he's like, inwardly seething

Marco makes a face, so far past his usual composure that he doesn’t even bother trying to hide his irritation. 

Iridona smirks, throwing more black pebbles into the little play cauldron that came with the game of Serendipity that they’ve been playing for an hour now. If you asked Marco, it felt more like they had been playing for hours. Days, even. 

The whole thing was a fluke, really, that Iridona had won three games, all three games that they had been playing. The whole game is a game of chance, one designed to teach little kids that magic could be tricky and temperamental for everyone and was played by adults at parties to make the drunk chortle. Hilariously, Nads refused to get rid of it because it shared the same middle name as her brother.

Each player picks a token, places it on the little maze on a board with simple animated embellishments and throws little things into a plastic cauldron with a swirling illusion inside. A rock, a feather, even different liquids could be thrown into the cauldron, which determines where a player goes on the board for each turn. It’s ridiculous and childish and, as Orb put it, a game for fools. 

And Marco is losing, badly. 

“Aw, Marc-y, come on,” Iridona jeers, and punches his arm lightly. “It’s just for fun.” 

And she tosses a cracker into the glowing green ooze in the cauldron with a flick of her wrist. 

The cracker disappears and words swirl into focus. 

“Huzzah! Step forward 8 paces, adventurer!”

Iridona skips her token 8 places forward, literally bouncing her character across the game board with a flourish and Marco has to restrain himself from flipping the table over. 

After taking a Goblet of Luck card from the dinky little plastic goblet that came from the game, at the Cauldron’s request (“Take a card from the Goblet, there you will find your fate!” “Take 5 paces back, you’ve tempted the Gods and lost!”) Marco sets his token down with what must be too much force, because Iridona flinches.

“Marco… look it’s just a game,” she says, and it makes Marco’s stomach drop with something other than anger. Something colder, like guilt. 

He looks away. “Yeah, I just- Sorry, I get too competitive, I guess.” 

Iridona fiddles with the token. “Yeah, yeah you do. You don’t see me getting all upset when you keep beating me at hand-to-hand sparring.” 

Marco snorts, unbidden. “Yes, you do.” 

Grinning, Iridona throws a cracker at him. Technically, it’s true. “You know what I mean.” 

Marco feels his face warm with embarrassment, of his own slight shame. And he nods.

[doomelem-aus]

princess au - 5 min drabble

post marco saving... the world, I guess? or he helps everyone with saving the world. i’m basically getting at something that would justify the Great King pardoning desantos so he can marry/court irid with as little backslash as possible. 

Marco looked up, losing the composure he was so desperately trying to cling to in front of the motherfucking King of the whole entire God Realm. Like basically Queen Carla’s boss. “Sorry?!” he asks, incredulous, because you might not speak to the ruling god of the whole thing respectfully, but you might forget to not almost shout at his face because you can’t believe what he just said.

You heard me, young wolf... I grant you pardon of your past crimes. Of the negative consequences of the vigilantism of the past 3 years. 

God King’s voice feels like it is dipping in and out of this dimension, transmitting beneath Marco’s skin into his bones and through his nerves into his brain even though his Majesty’s mouth is moving, and it explains partially why everyone looks so on edge. The King even looks down at Marco with what Marco would call fucking amusement (did he quirk his incorporeal eyebrow?) before looking at Queen Carla, who stood to his side. 

This werewolf boy has contributed more to the marginalized communities in the Kingdom Would you agree, Lady of the North? 

Carla almost fully grins before remembering to temper it to something more solemn. Her eyes now flicking to the shackled lackeys of Demetrie, at least the most powerful ones that were under him, who looked a mixture of terrified by the presence of the God King and outraged at the pardoning of Marco’s apparent sins. “Of course, Your Reverence, you stole the decree right from my mouth.” 

Marco’s feels his shock on his face, his eyes must look wide and his jaw must be slack, because when he looks over at Iridona, she breaks into a chuckle. It’s a way better look than the worry over the King’s visit that she tried and failed to hide from her face. 

“Well, I guess now we can make this thing official, maybe?” she murmurs, and Marco’s face burns. He’s never been more self conscious of all of the other people in the room. 

“Yeah,” he nods, “of course.” Because that’s what you say when the love of your life asks to make your fake-real-relationship for real. 

He hears a snort from behind them and locks eyes with Samir, standing crossed armed and off to the side. Marco raises an eyebrow at him.

“Well, I guess I’m gonna have to deal with you forever now.” 

[doomelem-aus]

because this is too good

Brent, on Starlings, her creation:

I feel like having a baby starling is kinda like having a kitten or puppy that eventually grows up into a whole ass person that pays taxes

a bby starling: [chases after laser pointers, plays with string, chews EVERYTHING]

 that same starling 20 years later: dammit, the printer is acting up again

[doomelem-aus]

sam the knight, ds the rogue, iridona the princess au

ft. barnes the newest royal librarian, nads the newest potionmaker, and also the local trouble making Witch.

Nads and Barnes being DeSantos, having been adopted at a young age

Marco still remaining a rogue at he beginning of the story

Nads the Witch constantly kidnapping Princess Iridona, and while it’s annoying at first, Nads and Irid become friends, and Nads becomes enamored with Irid’s personal knight, her adoptive brother Samir

Grent: I’m really into the exploration of Sam being a knight, being all pissy at the things that threaten his family and him and Irid having a really close friendship as brother and sister and them not letting her royal status get in the way of that. 

AlsO Q uEEN CARLA :DD ????

Marc dropping by to bug all of his lil sibs c:

Marse visiting home in between her top secret Knightengale missions

DS being seen largely as a vigilante, and some circles of the public regarding him as a Robin Hood esque figure, some calling him a nuisance, and the police/knights at large being instructed to bring him in. Half of them, his former classmates, so half disregard the order.

Ds dropping in on Nads when she has captured Iridona, and striking up a conversation. Ds sneaking around the castle, bickering and bantering with Iridona, eventually leading to them texting and talking all the time.

Ds sneaking into a royal ball and dancing with Iridona as Marco Latorre.

Sam seeing Nads as a local pest, Iridona cheering her on, Ds being protective of his siblings against Sam once they start vying for Royal castle jobs.

DS and Sam having Pissbaby banter. Because they so can’t stand what the other’s whole- the other’s whole steez.

Demetrie plotting up a contest of sorts to “Strengthen country bonds’ which is in reality a ploy to use Iridona as a pawn for a power play. 

Sam gleefully telling Ds the news, knowing how attached her is to the Princess. 

But also giving Iridona that look when she gets all swoony over him.

Sam hinting to DS that he should cause trouble, and after Ds tries to sabotage a constest (probably archery or something) a hilarious sitcom/romcom type of mix up happens and Marco ends up having to compete as Mr. (or Lord?) Latorre.

Brent quote:

“I was thinking of doing like nads knows she's in love and accepts it but sam is completely in denial”

[doomelem-aus]

hellhound au

Marco as Sam’s hellhound, who he serves in repayment for healing his near-fatal wounds on the battlefield, and is sent to investigate two young women who might bring the foretold end of the world, according to prophecy. 

When Marco drags his feet bringing them to Zephyral, (because he befriends them), Sam arrives at a city they’re traveling through, by chance. And after totally ratting Marco out, the group decides to band together to ward off the Gods in Charge, who wantto destroy any and all threats of world ending apocalypse. 

[doomelem-aus]

demonknight au

Dany and Marse talk about Ser

Dany leaned against the kitchen island, tapping his nails against the wooden surface.

Marse glanced up at him, giving him a friendly, if polite smile. She went back to her brief on her new assignment for the Academy only for a few moments before looking back up at the smirking Starling. She enjoyed Dany’s company, mainly after he stopped being the mysterious, terrifyingly powerful elemental demon that helped stop a war.

“Hey, Dany, what’s up?”

Dany’s smirk grew as he suddenly started inspecting his claws, the short, almost plumage like tuft of hair on top of his head rippling like the drumming of his fingers. “Oh, I was just thinking, you know me.”

Marse raised a brow. As much as she enjoyed their friendship, she also knew by now when Dany had something under his sleeve. Like right now, when it was obvious. “Thinking?”

Dany hums, apparently finding some speck of dirt or imperfection in his claws to fiddle with before continuing. “Thinking, observing, you know. Eternal being with almost-omniscient power things.”

“Huh,” Marse responds, wondering if she should just go back to her notes or find out what Dany is getting at.

She glances down at her work again, only  for a second, when Dany’s neatly manicured claws cover her own hands.

Looking up, she sees Dany smiling at her, his eyes soft.

“Ask out the boy, Marceline. We all know how crazy you are for him.”

Marse glares, trying to ignore the growing warmth in her cheeks. “No,” is all she can come up with as a response.

His smile grows and indignation niggles in Marse’s chest.

“Well, what about you and Seren getting all cozy?”

Marse regrets it once she hears herself say that out loud, and the feathers that make up Dany’s crown flatten, his eyes narrow. It’s the closest she’s ever seen him to look hurt besides during the loud arguments he’ll have with Samir that he abruptly ends when Marse or her brother neter the room. It makes her feel even guiltier.

“I’m sorr-”

Dany sighs, chest plumage ruffling and fluffing up and back down as he exhales. “It’s fine. It’s not like I have a reason to pine over some little starling boy.”

Marse looks down at her hands, pained over resigned Dany sounds despite his statement. This is the first time she’s ever heard him admit out loud, even if indirectly, that he has interest in Seren. It didn’t take long for her and Marco to notice how the two would look at one another, especially when alone, working on gathering supplies for magical experiments or when Seren would help patch Dany up after a rough battle.

Of course, Marse doesn’t blame Dany for not saying anything. Seren is the brother of a Starling who helped, who was essential to his and his brother’s containment. Imprisonment.

He doesn’t have the luxury of pursuing Seren, at least not without heaping more strain onto his already strained relationship with Sam.

“Really, Marceline, while harsh, you don’t have anything to apologize for,” he continues. “I didn’t work my tail off to ascend to elemental-hood, only to spend part eternity pining for some boy.”

He puffs out his plumage once more, only to smooth over his crown with a claw, returning to his usual sleek-feathered glory. Shaking off the past, Marceline, he told her one day.

He makes more jokes about Marse pining over Weylin, all the while worrying a claw into the island countertop.

[doomelem-aus]

sister focused snippets

may 11, 6p

Iridona flopped onto her bed, flower petals rustling into the air as she did.

Ollie must have left then there, a tease after Iridona incorrectly identified a poisonous flower species in class that would have likely killed her were they on-mission. Hilarious.

Iridona is more patient, a little less conscious of how she may appear to her classmates. Serena worries that she might not be suspicious or guarded enough to be a good warrior or whatever the hell the Academy wants them to be.

Serena tries to keep a low profile, it doesn’t help that she was once persecuted in the Council’s sham of a justice system and it was reported in the newspapers and everything. But anyway, she’s tried to keep a low profile and then hears that her mother and sister have gotten swept up in some bullshit conspiracy theory garbage about the Elements being alive and well and just hiding around somewhere out there like so much fucking Easter eggs. Whatever. It doesn’t change the fact that Serena has dragged one of the DeSantos brothers into her journey to track down her family and drag them out of all of this shit.

Iridona worries that Serena is too hard on herself, to afraid of putting herself out there. Iridona was there when everythinf blew up after that Lord died, and was there when she held her mom’s hand in the seats of the court room. She was there for almost all of it, everything Serena would let her be present for. Even after carving out her own business, she still doesn’t advertise that much. Iridona kind of gets it. She’d be terrified, too, in her shoes and it keeps Iridona’s mouth shut. How do you tell someone who went through that to take more risks like she used to?

Serena felt like Iridona spent too much time minding her tongue and other people’s feelings a little too much. Sometimes people needed a good punch to the gut metaphorically (or physically) and as someone who grew up on the recieiving end of Irid’s sometimes, she would definitely prescribe it for some of the choice assholes around.

[doomelem-aus]

supers au - marinerna pt 1

Serena visits her sister, who’s powers are left somewhat unstable after the fallout of the defeated Spirit invasion from Demetrie, and keeps bumping into the very attractive, very sweet, definite distraction of a superhero that is Marin.

Serena jogged up the steps of the LaChance tower, preparing herself for another day of not-babysitting her sister’s recovery after the dark spirit invasion and maybe also trying not to bump into the handsome superhero who recently became world famous for delivering the final world saving blow and also maybe some other heavy shit that Ser can only begin to imagine.

LaChance’s assistant, Ezra gives her a curt nod as he rushes past her as she exits the private Doomsquad elevator, shouting into his phone and looking just as annoyed as he always did.

“Hey Nadia,” she greets the Starling sitting at the common room kitchen island, a spread of notebooks and tomes and scribbles surrounding her.

“Hey, Velezquez. There’s some leftover protein smoothie on the counter if you want some.”

She gestures toward a bright pink filled blender on the counter behind them, and starts scribbling down more notes as the tablet on the table flickers between different schematics and articles.

Deciding not to disturb her concentration, Serena walks down the hall and toward the “guest” rooms in the Doomquarters, and knocks on her sister’s door.

“She’s not back from training yet,” says a smooth, deep voice from down the hall.

Serena looks up to see Marin aka Mirage aka the fucking savior of the world, according to the tabloids and news and even the ONN’s morning broadcast  headline that Serena watched that morning. He’s in a grey tee and black joggers, long black hair half up and little wisps coming out to stick to his slightly sweaty face because of course he looks nice even after working out.

Completely attractive in some superhuman ways and completely not someone she should even consider pursuing,

“Oh, uh, thanks,” Serena nods, not sounding at all uncomfortable and turning back toward the common room.

He raises an eyebrow before returning to his room.

[doomelem-aus]

ds crush au part 2

Iridona made her way to the Elem’s office space, a room tucked into the main building, off the main hallway (so they weren’t bothered quite as much as the Council or Dad Marco) trying to sort her notes from her last eval from her combat mentor while juggling a microwaved plate of something that was once frozen and was now oozing piping-hot cheese.

Walking past Ollie’s desk, filled with plants and pointy succulents and her latest fascination of the week, she stepped over loose vines and carefully set the paper plate down onto her desk. She made the decision, last minute, to let the plate sit atop the flower notes in particular. Word had gotten out, at least among her closer circle of friends and coworkers, about her gifted flowers from DeSantos during the week. She gotten a few comments here and there, a curious question she easily deflected, and even Charlie asked her to just “answer him already.”

“He’s been a bigger pain in the ass than usual,” Charlie explained, tossing his gear down after he gave the Elems a lesson in cliffside combat. “And he’s all anxious about your reaction to the damn flowers and taking it out on the new security recruits. I need those idiots to last longer than their first week of training.”

Irid chuckled and asked if it wasn’t better that they got a taste of what DeSantos could dish out early and was rewarded with Charlie shooing her away from the sparing field.

“What’s so funny, Irid?”

She jumps in response, and whips her head around to see DeSantos sitting on the large window opposite the Elemental’s desks.

He looks…. casual. In a dark but fuzzy sweater, making the picture of a teen heartthrob, all leaning against the side of the window and looking soft as hell and dreamy with the light filtering through the window reflecting in his eyes-

No, no, no. She doesn’t need to be romanticizing him. Not after a week of bullshit teasing. Plus, she  isn’t even sure if he’s actually into her. Like that.

Romantically.

DeSantos is staring at her, an eyebrow raised, still waiting for an answer.

Ignoring the rising warmth in her cheeks, she glared. “None of your business.”

He rolls his eyes but steps off the sill. Arms crossed, he makes another picture of heartthrobery, strong arms being shown off by the corded sweater.

Irid shakes her head, at herself as DeSantos leans himself against Wey’s desk, the one that neighbors her own and she fights to keep focus on the fact that DeSantos is Very Close and Very Soft and smells like Sandalwood. Of all fucking things.

“So, working lunch?” DeSantos asks, eyes roving over her mess of a desk.

Iridona studies, in a legitimately non-thirsty way, (really) and DeSantos looks… half relaxed with all of his leaning and posturing and slim fit jeans, but also… pensive. His thumbs keep rubbing over his arms where they’re crossed, his eyes flick over the clutter on the desk, and he isn’t the usual cat-like DeSantos.

His eyes snap up to hers, again waiting for an answer, but Irid decides to answer with a question.

“So, are you hitting on me?”

DeSantos, for once, is the one blinking at her in surprise and not the other way around. “Well- I was trying to take that slow, lead up-”

Iridona relishes in this, in seeing DeSantos’ face redden, looking away in embarrassment and look off-kilter. Such a nice role reversal. “Super subtle, my man.”

He cuts off his rambling with a glare. “Oh get off it, you clearly liked the flowers, at least.”

Iridona blushes in response. He’s not wrong and it’s clear, by the mason jar holding a bouquet of flowers snatched from the flower bed DeSantos created.

“So, what?” Iridona asks, eager to put him back on the spot. “You like me? After everything? All of the teasing about how incompetent and silly me and my teammates are?”

DeSantos uncrosses his arms, looking away and picking off invisible lint from his sweater before re-crossing his arms. He mumbles something toward his biceps.

Iridona huffs. “What? I can’t hear you.”

“You’re cute,” He looks up, brows scrunched in that same expression he sometimes gets when actually faced with a challenge. “And smart. And have come incredibly far in such a short time as an Elemental. It’s kinda crazy actually.”

Iridona can’t ignore the way that warms her insides. She heard from a few mentors that her progress was impressive, but hearing it from an asshole like DeSantos, with all of his bluster, is...nice.

“Look, you’re just… you’re funny and actually witty sometimes,” DeSantos continues, tilting his chin up and leveling a stare that Irid that reminds her of the look that army generals have before they march into battle. “I can’t believe I’m just standing here, pouring out my feelings like some lovesick teenager but whatever. Fuck it.”

He throws open his arms, letting them slap against his hips when they fall. “I like hanging out with you. I like when we bicker and go back and forth and I started looking forward to us bumping into each other. ‘S nice. You’ve been thrown into this world and you hold your own among people who’ve spent their whole life in it. When you’re not actively bitching at me, you’re actually kinda sweet. And courageous. It’s annoying”

Iridona can’t hide the smile that grows on her face. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t feel the same way, at least about bickering back and forth with him. That weirdly snappy tension between them when they glare at each other and snark. Even when DeSantos is being a little shit and looking down his nose at her, she can’t wait to serve him up with a smartass comment.

Plus, he’s annoyingly handsome.

Iridona squints up at DeSantos. “Fine.”

His brows shoot into his hairline. “Wha-”

“I said fine. Let’s do this. Date or whatever,” Iridona blushes hard, trying to rearrange her leaning onto her desk to look more casual.

DeSantos’ brows don’t leave the top of his forehead until well after they agree on a first date- date.

“So it’s more of an aesthetic choice above all else,” DeSantos explains, as he sets his water glass down. Irid agreed to their first date to be dinner on the rooftop of one of the Academy back buildings. He lead her up the rooftop, a hand perch toward the top of her back gently as they walked up the steps, and she was greeted with the sight of a tabletop filled with small horderves, and a pitcher  of fruit filled lemonade and two glasses. There were even candles and everything.

Iridona nodded at DeSantos. “So the all-black uniform isn’t because it matches your angsty soul?”

“No,” he tuts. “That’s a coincidence.” And he has the audacity to flash one of those brilliant amused smiles at her like it’s nothing.

Iridona picks up one of the fancy little bruschetta looking appetizers, still warmed by the fact that DeSantos picked a dinner of finger food, which Iridona had mentioned being the only part of fancy dinner parties or weddings she actually liked.

Iridona finally worked up the courage to ask about DeSantos’ tattoos.

“You know she was a part of the Botanical Research Department, and she loved flowers,” He smiles, and does that thing where someone’s eyes soften and are a mix of nostalgia and old pain and Iridona really didn’t ask to make him remember his grief, but she always was curious about his relationship with his mom.

He pulls up his sleeve to reveal a small spindly looking flower tattooed on his inner arm, telling her about it’s meaning (strength of character, honor) and how it was her favorite flower. He tells about his childhood and how it was growing up as a knight whose family was embroiled by the secret-not-secret ire of the Asrani family. She made sure to avoid asking directly about his time as a rogue and she noticed that he didn’t ask about her sister’s persecution.

He asked about how she liked being an Elemental, about her hobbies, teased her a little for not having picked up anything outside of work to do and laughed when she pointed out his own hypocrisy.

It was nice, to watch DeSantos relax a little. His usual cat-like grace was slowly becoming something more organic and sweet and smiley.

He legitimately smiled as he sat across from her, telling an anecdote about how he ruined his brother’s garden when he was little, and how Dad Marco still has a polaroid of a tiny Marco dragging an almost empty bag of potting soil across the pristine white Research lab in the middle of the garden.

A couple weeks and a few dates later, Iridona and DeSantos take a walk on the path in the garden. There are many smaller paths that diverge from the main one, and wind their way through the grounds.

“They must have changed this branch of the path,” Iridona observes as she studies the flowers at her feet and the pretty dark marble of the stone pathway they’re walking on.

“Hm,” DeSantos responds, and she can see him look up at her from her side.

“It’s just… this part. This part of the path is totally different,” She motions to it. Now that she’s looking at the flowers, they appear super exotic and something that would be kept inside the Research lab.

DeSantos is noticeably quiet and he looks down at the flowers.

“Do you like them?”

Iridona blinks. “What?”

DeSantos pauses, scuffing a stone in the path with the tip of his shoe. “You said you liked the flowers I got you. They were technically slight genetic mutants from the typical variety of each flower that was in that flower bed, so I did a whole bunch of different types of flowers and mutants and just kinda improvised with these.”

DeSantos’ face flushes and he turns his back to her. “Look, you said you loved getting flowers and I got you some.”

Iridona gapes at him, but gesturing to the whole path. “But… is this whole thing for me? This whole new part of the path?”

“Yes,” he murmurs, brow doing that scrunchy thing he does when he’s flustered. Iridona has started to call that his emotionally overloaded look. She runs to catch up to him on the path and teases him about how sweet he really is deep down until she sees the back of his ears go red, and wraps her arms around him from behind in a backwards hug.

[doomelem-aus]

magic - plot point

valley inspired, marco goes back to rogueing against the team?