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[ray-gt]

Wardens

also been a while since i posted this preview lmao. repost from my patreon!! so i saw this image a long while ago, & it's lived rent free in my brain ever since. & now the inspiration from that image is here in words. mind, the size difference isn't as extreme as depicted there, but the big fella's still 358ft tall 👀💦 OCs | ivy of paesaal & the warden 3,475 words mentions of death & vomiting thanks for reading!! reblogs > likes!! patreon ✨ ko-fi

There were many words for the giant beings. Sentinels. Guardians. Watchers. Keepers. Most called them Wardens. They were gargantuan, towering beings, standing taller than most buildings. They wore armor like that of a knight, made of an unknown metal that could not be dirtied, that no conventional weapon could pierce or scratch. What they looked like underneath that armor, no one knew. A brave few had tried to slip in through the gaps, hungry for knowledge that seemed so within reach, but there were no gaps to be found. Not even the helmets far above, where there were slots, presumably for the beings to see through, granted any entry. Some invisible barrier kept even the light from penetrating into that armor.

Be it legend or history, it was said that the Wardens were gifts from the Gods, sent to protect the land and its people from otherworldly threats. They were mighty, unbreakable warriors, able to repel the worst evils any realm could produce.

Or so it was said.

No one could remember a time when any ungodly monsters ever descended upon the land. No one could remember the Wardens ever waking from their slumber to fight and defend. No one could even remember the last time a Warden moved. Believers claimed that they were simply dormant, and only came to life when truly needed. Nay-sayers thought the whole tale was a crock of shit, that they were nothing more than huge, decorative statues that royals used as symbols of their egos.

It was true that royalty in Palendra regarded the Wardens highly. Monarchs of the past few centuries liked to claim the Wardens’ as their own, though they had no means of actually harnessing their would-be power. Royal crests and seals depicted the Wardens, and the royal guard donned shining armor styled after them.

One such guard in Warden armor sighed loudly. He stood at attention as he was supposed to, but there was a laziness to his posture.

“Princess Ivy,” he said, doing his best to temper the exasperation in his voice, “there are storm clouds gathering from the south. We should head inside before they let out.”

Seated on the wall against a stone pillar, Ivy continued with her charcoal, scraping it across the parchment in her book. She regarded the new strokes for a moment, then smudged at them with her blackened fingers.

“Princess,” the guard said, sounding more annoyed. “Princess.”

Ivy rolled her head back and groaned. “Ugh. Golrin, you’re interrupting my process! If you have to go take a piss so badly, then by all means! You’re dismissed!”

Though his face was hidden under his helmet, she could tell that Golrin was rolling his eyes at her. He’d been her personal guard for nearly ten years now, almost half of her life; she knew how to read him through his armor.

“Oh, pardon my interruption, Your Highness,” he said, speaking much less formally than he would had they not been alone. Ivy liked it better when he talked to her like this. All of those fake, flowery manners that people were supposed to use around her got so exhausting. Golrin continued, “Much as I would love to do just that, I’m afraid your parents would have me drawn and quartered if I dared to let you out of my sight. Dismissed or otherwise.”

Ivy snapped her book shut, the charcoal piece held between the pages, and slid off of the wall. She tucked the book under her arm, and gestured to the towering metal form behind her. “Nothing’s gonna happen to me while he’s around. You can go!”

Golrin snorted. He crossed his arms over his chest and tipped his head up, regarding the Warden. Where they stood, on one of the highest rooftops of the castle, they only just barely reached the middle of its chest plate.

“You don’t actually believe that,” he said. “That Warden’s never moved before. And it certainly isn’t going to move for you if you decide to take a tumble over the wall.”

Ivy looked over her shoulder at the Warden, a gentle smile on her lips. No, she didn’t actually believe that the Wardens were guardians of royalty. But she did take comfort in this one’s vigil. Whether they were actually ancient protectors or not, it made her feel better to at least pretend like someone was watching over them.

She’d spent countless hours up on these rooftops over her lifetime. She liked to talk to the Warden sometimes. She didn’t feel like a princess when talking to it, and it would listen to her without judgment—at least, none that she could perceive. Over the years, it had heard many a rant from the Princess, and confessions she dared not tell another soul—not even Golrin, nor her parents. In a sense, the Warden knew her better than anyone else did.

A small stone bounced against the Warden’s armor with a sharp ping, making Ivy jump. She whirled around to face Golrin again, who remained at attention, though he stood properly now. She glanced down at his feet, noting a gap in the cobble that looked suspiciously like it had just housed a stone a moment before.

“That was rude,” she said. “What did he ever do to you?”

“Not a damn thing,” Golrin replied. “That’s the problem. That thing’s nothing but a shiny waste of space.”

Ivy shot an apologetic look to the Warden, then turned a sour face to Golrin. “We’re lucky to have a Warden here. There aren’t that many of them in Palendra, you know.”

Golrin shrugged. Ivy could picture his face, brows raised and lips pressed together, like he couldn’t care less. He was allowed to feel how he did about the Wardens—after all, no one really knew where they’d come from or what they did—but she didn’t understand how he could look at one and not feel the same awe she did.

“Princess, those clouds are right over us,” he said, changing the subject. “I insist we get inside. It’s looking like it’s going to be a nasty storm.”

The sky was growing noticeably darker, Ivy couldn’t deny. The wind was picking up too. She looked up to the clouds in question. They roiled angrily in the skies, like the heavens themself had a grudge against the land. The first drop broke free, splashing down right in the center of her forehead. She blinked in surprise, lashes catching some of the smaller droplets. Golrin reached for her wrist, armored fingers wrapping fully around it, and gently tugged. She took two steps to follow him, but paused when movement caught her eye. Her head snapped back up to the Warden. A sharp gasp left her, her free hand dropping her book to cover her mouth.

The Warden looked different. Its head was turned, tipped upwards towards the clouds.

“Golrin—the Warden! It moved—!”

An explosion of green light shot down from the clouds, striking the land with a force so violent that it shook the tower Ivy and Golrin stood upon. It tossed them to the floor and knocked the air from their lungs. Ivy could feel herself screaming, but couldn’t hear over the new ringing in her ears. She curled in on herself, knees to her chest, arms over her head, book forgotten. Golrin threw himself over her, shielding her further from—from whatever madness was happening.

When the shaking stopped, Golrin wasted no time. He was on his feet in an instant, dragging Ivy up with him. He half-carried her to the door, into the spiral stairway down the tower. She stumbled down the first few steps, her heart pounding in her chest. A look through one of the windows made it stop altogether, though. Her whole body went rigid and numb, frozen in place.

“Princess! You need to—” Golrin started to shout at her, but he too froze when he saw what she saw.

In the explosion’s crater, opposite of the Warden, stood another titan-sized being. It wore armor not unlike the Warden’s, but it was much more jagged and asymmetrical. The being was hunched over, its arms hanging limply, its head moving left and right in unnatural, jerky movements. A sound—what could only be described as a guttural growl—rumbled from somewhere deep within the being. It rattled Ivy’s bones, made her teeth chatter. Seeing, hearing, witnessing this creature struck a fear deep within her that she’d never experienced before. That thing… was no Warden. It was something else. Something sinister. Dangerous.

Golrin gave her a rough shove, snapping Ivy from her trance. “Keep moving!” he shouted, pushing her along. With her blood flowing again, the princess sprinted down the stairs as quickly as she could, her guard hot on her heels. By the time they were nearly halfway down the tower, she heard—no, felt—movement beyond the stone walls. She caught a glimpse outside, just a moment’s look, to see the new titan tackle the Warden. The crash of their metals, louder than any thunder, brought another ring to her ears. The Warden and the intruder fell to the ground only feet away from their tower, the impact creating another wave of tremors. Golrin pushed her again, hard enough this time to send her tumbling down the stairs until she collided  with the curve of the wall. She cried out, but her pained wail quickly turned to one of horror and anguish. Just as she looked back to Golrin, a massive, metal-clad fist tore through the stone like it was paper. The entire upper section of the tower fell away, like a stack of toy blocks being knocked over by a careless toddler. Golrin was there one second, and then he wasn’t. Ivy shrieked his name, her throat already raw.

Another jolt shook the tower—an impact from the wrestling titans at another wing of the castle. More rubble rained down around Ivy, spurring her into a half-stumble half-sprint down the stairs.

Distant screams reached her ears over the cacophonous clashing of metal & brick. The thought of people getting crushed under the titans made Ivy’s stomach roil. It was a miracle in and of itself that she hadn’t yet vomited.

Her shoes hit the ground floor tile, where her legs gave out under her. Ivy collapsed to her hands and knees, head bowed, lungs straining.

Run. Keep running. Her brain shouted, but her limbs wouldn’t move.

Golrin was gone. Where were her parents? The castle staff? The citizens? How many were d—

Her stomach lurched painfully. Ivy’s shoulders shook as she heaved, the contents of her gut spilling out through mouth and nose onto the floor. She was going to die here. The tower was going to fall on her, or she’d get caught underneath a titan, and all she could do is sit here and throw up until it happened.

That wasn’t how she wanted to go. Ivy balled her hands into fists and spat out the last of the bile in her mouth. If she was going to die, it wasn’t going to be in a pool of her own vomit. Despite the wobble in her knees, she pushed herself to her feet, and ran. She shoved the tower door open with her shoulder, and stumbled out onto the road, where she could once again see the Warden and the intruder clashing. The intruder wailed on the Warden viciously with punches, kicks, headbutts—any part of its body it could strike with. The Warden held a defensive stance, arms up, deflecting and dodging when it could. Whenever it did strike out, the intruder slipped out of the way. Clearly it was the faster of the two titans.

Ivy felt like she couldn’t breathe. Seeing the Warden not only move, but fight, filled her with an emotion she couldn’t place. All her life, she’d known the Warden to be silent and still. But now, seeing it fight with another otherworldly being, there was no doubt in her mind that it really was a godly warrior sent from the heavens.

But where had the intruder come from? And why was it here? Why now?

The intruder tossed its head back and let out a piercing shriek. Ivy’s hands flew to her ears, and her knees buckled under her. She may have screamed, but she couldn’t be sure; she couldn’t hear anything over the horrible noise. It felt like every cell in her body, every molecule, was being shaken. Violently. Blood sprang from her nose and her ears, dripping down onto the ground beneath her. She felt like her brain was going to burst inside her skull, and the rest of her organs soon after.

She felt more than she heard the noise stop. For several seconds, Ivy remained curled in on herself, clutching her head between her hands. She couldn’t hear. She couldn’t think. She couldn’t move.

A crash shook the air from somewhere up above. Ivy forced her eyes open to see the Warden stumble, reeling from the intruder’s assault. It stepped backward, its massive boot sailing over Ivy’s head. She felt herself scream as the Warden started to fall, and thrusted her hands upward, as if she alone could prevent the tower of metal from crushing her flat. Its knee slammed into the ground a few yards from her, and then its fist, both stirring up dust and debris. Once the dust settled, the princess found herself staring up at the Warden, and it staring right back down at her. She couldn’t see any features through the openings in its helmet, but she knew in her heart that it could see her—that it was aware of her. Her blood turned to ice.

For several long moments, neither of them moved.

Then a bright flash of green light grabbed both of their attentions. The intruder produced another horrible shriek—one Ivy could no longer hear through the blood in her ears. The seams in its armor started to glow and flicker with a ghastly, green flame that steadily grew brighter. More intense.

The Warden looked back to Ivy, and she to it. “You’re supposed to protect us!” She yelled. It was surreal to speak and not hear her own voice, but she continued, “Get up! You have to get up!”

It had to get up! It had to get up and fight that—that thing! That monster!

The Warden stole another glance at the intruder, now almost fully engulfed in flames. Its face stayed hidden—if it even had a face—but she thought she could see determination surge in its body language.

Its hand moved. To Ivy’s horror, the Warden’s hand moved towards her. Fingers extended, palm open.

It was going to crush her.

She threw her hands over her head, screaming so loudly, so hard, that she was sure her throat was bleeding by now. The light vanished, blotted out by the Warden’s hand. Ivy squeezed her eyes shut, and waited for the violent end to take her.

Dizziness overcame her. In the last moments, her consciousness faded.

The hand pressed into the ground, then its fingers curled in, leaving deep gouges in the dirt.

The intruder let out one last shriek before it exploded into a shockwave of green. The Warden turned its back to the blast and braced as flames swelled around it, incinerating everything.

Ivy breathed in with a start. She gasped for air, and pawed at her throat as if she were being choked. She couldn’t see anything. She couldn’t—

No, that wasn’t right. She could see herself. She held up a hand and inspected it. It looked as if she were standing in the midday sun, but there was nothing around her but blackness.

She realized too that she wasn’t actually standing, nor was she lying down. It felt almost like she was suspended in water, or floating in the air.

Was this a dream? It had to be a dream. Or perhaps a nightmare. Or… or the afterlife. Ivy grimaced. She was dead. She had to be. The Warden… the Warden killed her!

“That bastard hunk of—ah!” She binked, and gingerly touched the lobe of her ear. She could hear! There was no blood crusted on her skin, either, nor on her clothes. In fact, she was completely clean.

This had to be the afterlife.

But… why was it so dark? And empty?

Would Golrin be here…?

Nervously, Ivy called out. “Hello…?” No response. “Um. Hello…? Golrin? Is anybody here? I can’t see anything. Hello? Hey—!” Her body lurched, like it was being lifted. She flailed her limbs, trying to fight off whatever had ahold of her, but there were no hands, no ropes, no chains—nothing tethered to her. “Hey! What are you—let me go!”

A low, rumbling noise echoed all around her, stilling her movements. It almost sounded like the noise that the intruder had made, but somehow… gentler. Kinder. Ivy studied the darkness, and listened until the echoes faded. She couldn’t see anyone, but she could swear that she felt a presence nearby.

“Where are you? Where am I?”

The rumble sounded again, this time with softer, lighter notes interlaced. Ivy’s brows furrowed. There was something to the sound. It wasn’t a voice, per se, nor were there any words, but there was something in it that she could understand.

“You’re… ‘sorry’?” She said. There was sorrow in the rumble, and emotions in her head that did not belong to her. “Are you… talking to me? Who are you? Why can’t I see you?”

Far up above, Ivy noticed light pouring in through what looked to be several tall openings. Windows, perhaps. As the force carrying her brought her nearer, she shielded her eyes until they adjusted to the brightness beyond. Once she could look, she leaned forward to peer through one of the openings.

And her jaw dropped.

From somewhere high up, she looked down upon the charred remains of a kingdom—her kingdom. The earth was blackened, everything reduced to ash and dust. Much of the fire was gone now, though she could still see a few patches of burning green on piles of rubble. At the center of the explosion, there were charred pieces of shrapnel and debris. Remains of the intruder?

Again the… chamber rumbled.

“I… I’m having trouble understanding. Are you saying that I’m alone? What does that mean? Where am I?”

The view outside swung to the left, then to the right, like whatever this place was was mounted on a swivel.

Rumble.

Ivy shook her head. “What do you mean ‘you’ll protect me’? Please, I don’t understand! Let me out of here!”

Rumble.

“I don’t care that it’s not safe! I don’t feel safe here!” She tried her luck with flailing again, to no avail. “I am Ivy of Paesaal, Princess of Palendra! You will let me out of here immediately!”

Suddenly, Ivy was pulled down. The windows vanished, leaving her blind once more. She shrieked and thrashed, kicked and clawed at nothing. So busy was she in her frenzy that she failed to notice when her feet touched solid ground, and the sensation of being suspended left her. Only when she spotted cracks of light in long, straight lines overhead did she realize that she was somewhere else. And she could see! At least a little bit. The room—if it could be called that; it was far too cramped to be a proper room—around her looked like it was made of metal. The walls were unusual, like segmented pillars that curled over her. The floor was a mesh-like material.

The pillars jolted with a soft groan, startling Ivy. She fell onto her backside as they shifted, and slowly unfurled, revealing the ash-filled sky beyond.

One, two, three, four pillars… and a fifth one off to the side… Ivy glanced down at her hands, then back at the pillars. The four had three segments, and the fifth only two… just like…

Ivy whipped her head around, and felt her heart leap into her throat.

She was in the Warden’s hand, high above the kingdom—or what remained of it. The Warden stared down at her, watching her through the black openings in its helmet.

Openings that looked like the windows she’d been looking through only moments before…

By the Gods… had she been inside the Warden’s head?

The Warden rumbled.

“There’s… no one else…” she echoed. And it was sorry. Through her fear and adrenaline, the princess felt another surge of anguish. Moisture welled in her eyes, threatening to spill over onto her now cleaned cheeks. She crawled nearer to the edge of the Warden’s expansive palm and peered over, her shaking hands pressed to its thumb for balance. Just as she saw before, there was nothing but ash down below. All of the buildings, statues, roads—everything was gone.

“No… No, there… there has to be someone else…”

[ray-gt]

Rules of the Party: Luck of the Draw

The party play a game of Potion Roulette. What could possibly go wrong?

(Had to split this one into two parts because it was getting too long. Hope to post Part 2 soon!)

_______________________________________________________________________

There was a lull over the party that afternoon when they sat around camp in the deep woods just outside of the great alpine market of Halambad. Situated in a deep, wooded valley between the three tallest peaks of the East Continent, Halambad was the capital of magic users from all across the land. Sorcerers, witches, wizards, tieflings, clerics, drakes, druids - all and more traveled to Halambad to practice, to trade, to learn. The air in the valley smelled of it, the ground thrummed with its energy, the woods were alive, calling out to it. 

A traveller, on first visit to Halambad, may find this sensation euphoric, transcendent even. However, many of the company had journeyed to the market before and knew that, behind the mystical spells, pretty trinkets, and winking faces, was just another city filled with people doing what people usual do at market: trade and scam. 

 They’d arrived in Halambad more than three days prior with two primary goals in mind: to stock up on supplies, and to scout out a job. By the afternoon in question, even Quinn, who found every aspect of the East Continent new and wonderful, was beginning to tire. 

 Two more days. 

They’d found a merchant in town that would pay handsomely for an armed escort through the mountains and down to Lile, the human city of The Flats. It was an easy job for good money so they’d accepted eagerly. The only issue was that they had to wait until the merchant closed up shop in Halambad and was ready to move on. 

Two days. 

Around the fire, Kip sat with Heron on his shoulder. He was plucking aimlessly at a fiddle. Jade had made Oberon buy him a new one at the market on account of him throwing the last one overboard. It needed to be tuned, but he didn’t seemed bothered. 

Oberon and Almara were paying cards, though neither seemed particularly invested in the game. They stared at their cards with blank expressions. 

Jade was restringing her bow and sharpening her arrows even though she’d done both the day before, and Gallon was snoring with his back against a tree and his arms crossed. 

Quinn looked around at them. It’d been weeks since he’d run off with them and journeyed East on the Burnt Sienna, and for the most part, he’d enjoyed the journey and the company. However, on afternoons like this, a twist in his gut couldn’t help but make him think he’d made a huge mistake. 

“I’m bored.” He said at last, resting his chin in his palm. 

The rest of the party looked up at him, shaken out of their stupor by his voice. He found he had that effect on them - he was, for better or worse, impossible to ignore. 

“It’s like traveling with a pygmy wolf.” Kip muttered. 

Almara rolled her neck on her shoulders. “Sometimes, Quinn, my love, that’s the life. Flashes of excitement, punctuated by a whole lot of terrible boredom.” She said. She plucked a card from her hand and placed it on top of the stack between her and Oberon. “Vantinyulf. I win.” 

Oberon rolled his eyes and huffed. “Well done.” He conceded with a grumble. “That was the last round. There are only so many hits to my pride I can take.” 

“You have pride?” Kip asked from the other side of the fire. “I learn something knew about you, Oberon, every day. What a marvel.” 

“I can teach you something now if you’d like, Elf.” Oberon retorted. 

Kip grinned, “Is that a promise?” 

A sound, halfway between a growl and a groan, emanated from Jade’s throat. “Enough.” She said. “Can we go 5 minutes without bickering?” 

“Unlikely.” Kip said, and it was unhelpful. Then Quinn watched as an idea bloomed across the bard’s expression. “I know how we can pass the time.” 

“If you’re suggesting what I think you’re suggesting, for the last time, no.” Oberon said, but Kip waved him off. 

“Oh, you wish.” He laughed. “But no, not what I was hinting at this time.” His bright eyes landed on Almara who met them and, after a few moments, grinned in turn. 

“Oh, that’s such a bad idea.” She said, already onboard. She looked around at the rest of the group. “Anyone up for a round of Potion Roulette?” 

Jade pinched the bridge of her nose. “No. I hate Potion Roulette.” 

Oberon laughed, “That’s because you’re bad at it.” 

Jade sent him a quizzical look. “You can’t be bad at it. It’s a game of chance. It’s not even a game - it’s just suffering.” She paused and shook her head. “And I always get the worst one.” 

“That’s the spirit!” Almara said, a conspiratorial air overtook her. “So, are we all in?” 

“No,” Heron said, floating off of Kip’s shoulder. Quinn didn’t his best to not stare and failed. Her bright orange wings and amber hair shone amongst all the greens of the forest. She’d kept her distance ever since they’d met, and while he respected it, Quinn couldn’t help but be drawn in by her presence. “It would probably kill me. And I don’t want to be around for whatever chaos you land yourselves in. I will go stay with some local Fey. But you all enjoy.” 

“Alright, Heron.” Kip said with a smile. “You have fun now.” 

She blew him a kissed and flew off into the woods, leaving a train of copper dust floating behind her. 

“I’m in.” Oberon said, returning to conversation. 

“In.” Gallon grunted without opening an eye, making the rest of the party jump. 

“I’m always in.” Kip smirked. 

Almara looked at Quinn. “Quinn, darling?” 

Quinn looked around, they all had a fey look on their faces. However, he’d take that over being bored. 

“I don’t know the game.” He started. 

“All the better.” Kip winked up at him and made his stomach somersault. “That just leaves our lovely Jade?” 

Jade squinted but eventually let out a long breath. 

“Fine.” She said. “But I have a couple of rules. Remember, we have a job and a long journey in a couple of days.” 

“Always a killer of fun.” Kip muttered. “Fine. Let’s have them.” 

“First, non-permanent modifications only. I don’t want to have to go through what happened last time again.” 

“For the record,” Almara purred. “I think Oberon looked rather fetching with a drake tail.” 

“You and every drake hide trader on the Continent.” Oberon grumbled. “I had to trade a pure-bred Lillian horse to get it removed. I support the rule.” 

“Second.” Jade said. “24 hours only. I don’t want anything lingering by the time we start the job.” 

“Makes sense.” Kip conceded. “Third?” 

“We’re adding a blank.” 

There was so much outcry in response to this final rule that you would have thought she was rationing their food, or banning them from drink. 

Quinn, beginning to tire of constantly being confused, sighed. “What’s a blank?” 

“Just the best way to ruin a good time.” Kip muttered, plucking angrily at a string of his fiddle as if to emphasise his point. 

“No blank.” Gallon agreed. 

“Thank you, Gallon. Ever the voice of reason.” 

“Come on, my love.” Almara whined. “Don’t spoil the fun.” 

Quinn watched as Jade’s expression morphed through confusion, exasperation, frustration, back to mild annoyance in a matter of moments. “Have you all forgotten that we’re running hot right now? We need someone with full control of their senses. Lindesse would do anything to catch us unawares.” She said and Quinn felt his cheeks redden. 

“We haven’t heard anything from the Thelebar’s since we crossed the Isle.” Oberon countered. 

“And when have you ever trusted perfect silence?” Jade rebuked and Oberon bowed his head in submission. 

“Ok,” Kip said, standing up and holding his hands in a placating gesture. “Ok. Jade, of course we will agree to the your terms - even if they are cowardly.” 

“Thank you, Kip.” Jade said, flatly. 

“Now that that’s settled.” Quinn spoke up. “Can someone please explain to me what in all realms I’ve agreed to?” 

 *** 

Potion Roulette was a rather simple game. It was popular across the East Continent and most alchemists, brewers, and apothecaries were familiar with it. Though the more professionally-aligned of the craft looked down upon the game, they couldn’t deny it was profitable. It was a good way to shift potions that were close to expiry (or, in the case of ‘Spiked Potion Roulette’, actually expired), to sell off more expensive merchandise, or, as was often the case, to test out something a little more experimental. 

The rules are as such. The players approach a potion seller with a sack of gold and any conditions, rules, or exceptions (in this case, all those listed by Jade) and the seller will, in their turn, provide potions respective to the number of players and value of gold. 

It was commonly understood that a good game of Potion Roulette required at least 5 gold per player - 10 if you were really looking for fun. As the party were including a blank - that is a potion with no effects - they settled on 7 gold per potion. At that range, they could get good quality, mid-range varieties without the usual risks associated with the cheap stuff. 

After acquiring the potions, the players - each blindfolded - take turns choosing a potion. Then, when all have been chosen, the players drink their potions at once and then...well, who knows after that. 

Thankfully, in Halambad, there was no shortage of brewers, though they ranged across a spectrum of reputation. Despite their protests, Kip and Almara eventually agreed to purchase from guild-aligned sellers only. Though that didn’t stop them from seeking out the most interesting of them. 

Ti-afren was a Bog Elf. The Bog Elves are, in Kip’s opinion, strange and unsettling. Though they have a natural gift for brewery and “tapping into the essence of things”, which makes them powerful brewmasters. As such, ‘Ti-afren’s House of Drink, Slink, and Stink’ was known amongst those in the know as the place to go for all things odd. And not long after entering, Kip and Almara left with a crate of six identical opaque silver bottles, shining in the afternoon sun. 

They had no idea what they contained, or what they would do, only that one did absolutely nothing. 

 *** 

They all gathered around, empty potion bottles were strewn about the campfire, silver flickering white in the firelight. To Quinn, it almost felt like ceremony. 

Kip pinched a small piece of parchment from the crate and unfolded it with delicate fingers. Though he couldn’t make out what it said, Quinn could see that scrawled across the page in a jagged, pointed script were Ti-afren’s notes. 

“Ok.” Kip said, Quinn watched the half-elf’s sparkling eyes squint as they quickly scanned across the page. When he came to the end of it, he closed his eyes briefly and hummed. It was like whatever he’d read was honey on his tongue and he was savouring the taste. “This will be interesting.” 

“Enough jest,” Oberon rolled his eyes. “Out with it, Elf.” 

Kip tutted. “No theatre with you, Oberon. Oh well, I suppose you are right - enjoy it, it doesn’t come often.” Before Gallon could demonstrate his dislike for that remark, Kip continued, occasionally glancing back at the parchment for reference. “It says here that the potions should take 10 minutes after ingestion to take effect.” 

“Love that.” Almara nodded appreciatively. “Ti-afren knows what he’s doing. I do enjoy a bit of suspense.” 

“I don’t.” Jade muttered. She’d been nervous ever since Kip and Almara had returned with the order. She’d been the most hesitant to down her potion. “I don’t like any of this.” 

Almara draped a long arm over Jade and held her close. “I know, love. But I think a bit of uncertainty is good for you.” 

Jade just crossed her arms. 

Quinn had a similar twisted feeling in his gut and he was yet to determine if it was nerves, excitement, or the potion not sitting well in his system. Maybe it was all three, or another option he hadn’t considered. He wasn’t sure. 

Regardless, the energy around the group was intoxicating, made even more electrifying by the natural magic that thrummed through the glade. He imagined what his mother would think of him in that moment - playing a dangerous potion drinking game with armed mercenaries, unsure of what would happen. The image of her expression caused him to grin. She’d always kept him so close, under the strictest supervision. No unvetted friendships, no journeys on his own, nothing that would present any risk to him. The only night he’d been granted any space at all was his betrothal. And maybe she was right to be cautious, because look what he’d done with it. 

His smile broadened and a heat bloomed from his centre. He’d taken action. He’d made the decision. There was no way he was going back West. And so with that commitment in his heart, he said. 

“What’s so interesting, Kip? What are the potions?” 

Kip looked up, and seemed momentarily caught of guard by his smile, his forwardness. After a second’s recovery, Kip’s expression was conspiratorial, he rested a gentle hand on Quinn’s thigh and laughed. Quinn hoped the night would hide the heat in his cheeks. 

“I knew you’d have fun, my Prince.” Kip said in a voice that flowed like liquid gold. “We have a good mix of things it seems.” With his free hand, he re-read the list of potions. As he did, Quinn felt his whole body buzz. “Ok, first up, we have Jade’s nasty little blank.” 

Jade’s dour face twisted into a scowl. It was the angriest he’d ever seen her. From Quinn’s observations over the last few weeks, she’d always been the voice of reason. The party respected her as their leader, they accepted her judgement and followed her call, she broke up the fights, and usually put up with Kip’s hyperactive tongue. But here, stripped of surety, she was a lot less tolerant. 

 Kip seemed to notice too and quickly moved onto the rest of the list. “Ok, looks like we have a set of twin potions - at least that’s what I gather from their names.” He frowned. “One is The Upgrade and the other is The Downgrade.” 

“That last one makes me nervous.” Oberon chuckled. He elbowed Gallon in the ribs. “Bet you get that one, brother.” 

Gallon huffed and elbowed him back - hard enough that Oberon lost his footing and landed on his arse. They both laughed. 

“Did the brewer include a list of effects?” Jade asked through a tense jaw. 

“It doesn’t look like it.” Kip said, scouring the page as if that information were hidden somewhere and he just couldn’t find it. “Ti-afren just provided the names, I’m afraid.” He even looked it - just a little. “We’ll find out effects soon enough.” 

Jade paled again and her arms tightened around her chest. Almara crooned and ran her long fingers through Jade’s short hair. In the dark, Quinn could see the tips of her fingers glowing. He wondered if that was just something she did, or if she were using magic to calm Jade’s nerves. 

“What about the rest?” He found himself asking. Kip looked gratefully up at him. 

“We have The Heart Trap - I’ve been the victim of enough of these to have a good idea of what it is.” Kip shook his head as if recalling a memory - or many. He continued. “The Truth Sleuth - not quite sure what that is, maybe a truth serum? And, finally, The Delusion Illusion Solution - Ti-afren does love a triplet rhyme. I can’t say I blame him, I’m guilty myself.” 

He folded the parchment again and put it in his coat pocket. That was that. The potions were known, they’d been drunk. All they had to do was wait. 

Around the group, eyes scanned, trying to guess who’d drunk what, and when they’d take effect. 

Turns out, when you’re waiting, 10 minutes is a long time. 

 *** 

Oberon was first. 

One moment, he was standing among them, a wicked grin on his face and eyes flashing. The next, his whole face went slack, his dark eyes glazed over, and he began to twirl in place, like a village girl during midsummer festival. 

“Dance with me!” He pleaded no one in particular as he laughed and flung his hands around. 

The look on Kip’s face was nothing but unbridled delight. He tapped Quinn on his thigh. 

“I’m guessing that’s The Delusion Solution. Quick, Quinn.” He said. “Remember all of this. Exactly what he says, how he moves, what he does. This is too good for only us to witness - we will turn it into a song.” 

“Hey!” Almara tutted, her arm still slung around Jade who watched Oberon with fear. “Potion Roulette is a safe space, Kip. We agreed to that years ago.” 

Kip sighed. “But -“ 

At that moment, Gallon perked up. However, instead of lumbering over to Kip to punish the bard for mocking his brother, he just stared at Kip, turned, and then dashed into the woods. They all looked on after him a while, puzzled. 

“We’ll see what eventuates of that.” Kip mused. Then he turned back to Almara. “My darling, I’m a poet surrounded by muses! I can’t help when inspiration strikes!” 

Quinn hadn’t been listening. He was focussing in on his own body, wondering when he would know the potion was taking effect. A cold thought hit him and he groaned internally at the possibility that he’d been given the blank. That would be just his luck wouldn’t it? He blamed his mother. It wasn’t logical and it wasn’t fair, but he did it anyway. 

“I don’t care about your inspir-“ Almara stopped. Her face blanched and she looked like she was going to be sick. 

Behind her, Oberon continued to sing and frolic around the fire. 

Kip’s face was awash with concern. It was one of the most genuine masks Quinn had yet to see him don. He took a step towards her, but Almara stuck out an arm telling him to stay back. With a swift movement, she push Jade to the side before collapsing on her hands and knees. 

“What-“ she began but the rest just came out as a long string of pain and curses in a language Quinn didn’t recognise. 

Then Quinn had to blink a couple of times to make sure he was seeing clearly because she began to grow. Every second that passed saw her shoot up bigger and faster until at last it stopped. 

Still bent on all fours, she panted, her periwinkle skin coated a film of sweat that shone like glitter in the flickering firelight. 

Kip and Jade looked up at her - Kip in wonder, Jade in horror. 

Quinn was stunned. She was still shorter than him - that much he could already tell - but on sight only he guess she’d come up to his chest if they were both standing, which would make her about 12-13 feet tall. It was odd, seeing her like this. He could make out the details of her face, the intricacies of the jewellery that decorated her horns. He could see her as he’d been able to see his own people back West. 

When the pain had past and the shock of the transition wore away, she let out a long breath and laughed, running her fingers through her long hair. 

“This is…” She paused, pressing back up onto her knees and examining herself. “Incredible! Ok, stand-up, Quinn. Let’s see!” 

Quinn grinned and got to his feet. 

He was right. He still stood over a head taller than her, but that didn’t seem to dampen her spirits. She looked up at him beaming. 

 “Definitely The Upgrade.” 

Quinn nodded, “I’m biased, but I’d say so.” 

She laughed. Then her gaze turned down to Kip and Jade, who stood with their necks craned. “What do you think?” She asked. 

“It’s fantastic.” Kip appreciated. “You really are a force of nature, love.” 

Almara winked down at him before turning to Jade. Their leader was looking worse for wear. With each new effect, she became more and more skittish. It struck Quinn that maybe for her getting either a potion or a blank was undesirable. They meant she had to either give up control or try to maintain it amongst chaos. The way she looked at Almara though was a whole different emotion.

“Jade?” Almara crooned down at the ranger. “What are you thinking right now?” 

“I’m afraid and confused!” Jade exclaimed. The remaining group stared at her. Her eyes bulged and she frowned, seemingly thrown by her own words. “I don’t know why I said that.” 

Kip squinted his eyes at her and hummed. 

“Interesting.” He purred. “Jade, who do you like more, Gallon or Oberon?” 

“Gallon.” Jade replied without hesitation. She blushed. “Wait, what? I-“ 

Kip laughed, “I was right! It is a truth serum.” 

Jade put her head in her hands, “I hate this game!” 

And she’d never said anything truer. 

Quinn looked at Almara who was studying Jade. There was a fey gleam in her eyes. “That’s fun.” Was all she said, but before she could do anything more, Kip crossed his arms and tutted. 

“You are such a hypocrite!” 

Almara feigned innocence, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“I know for a fact that you do.” 

“Whatever.” Almara grumbled. She looked between Kip and Quinn. “Only two left.” 

Kip considered this. “Well, we don’t really know what drove Gallon out into the woods.” He said, running a thoughtful hand through his sea-green hair. His bright eyes met Quinn’s and at that moment, the giant was glad he wasn’t in Jade’s position. “Do you feel anything?” 

Quinn shook his head. “No. Though I don’t really know what to look for.” 

Kip nodded, “I don’t feel anything either. There’s just the blank, The Heart Trap, and The Downgrade left. Based on Almara, I guess we can assumed what The Downgrade would be.” 

His gaze became unfocused and his eyes wide, as if he’d only just realised what that would look like in practice. 

“Well,” Quinn intervened before the thought could spiral. “Maybe that’s why Gallon ran off?” 

Kip came back to himself. “That would make sense, we should probably find him.” When no one made any move to act on that, Kip continued. “Well then. Quinn? Are you desperately in love with me?” 

The bard’s question was so blunt Quinn choked on his own breath. 

“What?” He stammered out, his neck grew hot. He winced when he felt Almara’s knowing eyes bore into him. “No! Why would you even ask that?” 

Kip shrugged, “The Heart Trap sounds like a standard love potion. Not the most original of Ti-afren, but they are fun because they’re always messy.” He paused, contemplating. “My feelings for you remain the same.” 

At that moment, Quinn desperately wished Kip had been the one to get the truth serum. Then he could ask what those feelings were. It was impossible to know what the bard really thought. 

“Well then -“ Quinn began but he stopped. 

His skin grew impossibly cold and his lungs were sucked of oxygen. In that moment, regret flooded him. 

Why had he agreed to this stupid game? 

What was happening to him? 

His stomach churned and twisted, like a wild animal trapped in a snare. His vision continually shifted in and out of focus as he stumbled on his footing. Almara grabbed his shoulders to steady him. 

Huh, strange. 

She must have grown taller, because now they were eye to eye. 

A ringing grew in his ears and his brain felt like it was sizzling in a cast iron skillet. He couldn’t focus, he heard a distant voice call out before the world fell away. 

“Quinn?” 

 *** 

“Quinn!” 

He was being shaken, and none too carefully. The owner of the voice was close, face not too far from his own. Quinn was sitting upright, resting against a tree. 

 No. None of the trees in Halambad are this thick. 

The owner of the voice he’d heard returned to both metaphorically and literally shake him out of his thoughts. 

“Wake up, you annoying little - Gallon, please, a little personal space? Ugh, Quinn!” 

Quinn finally had it in him to open his eyes. What he saw made him desperately want to close them again. There, in front of him, was Kip. The half-elf's beautiful, golden face, painted with freckles, was the same size as his own. The bard’s hands cupped either side of Quinn’s face as his cerulean eyes searched him for some sign that he was ok. 

Quinn reached out with his own hand and brought it to rest on Kip’s shoulder. It fit. It wasn’t too big, it didn’t crush him. Quinn didn’t have to think about how much pressure to apply. There was his hand on the shoulder of the bard, his thumb resting perfectly in the curve of his collarbone. 

It took another moment for Quinn to panic. 

“What’s going on?” He asked, heaving through lungs desperate for air. “I don’t understand.” 

“The Downgrade.” Came a voice from above him. 

Quinn’s eyes scanned upwards to find Almara looming above him, a frown plastered on her much larger face. 

Whatever Kip may say after the fact, Quinn definitely didn’t scream. He didn’t. 

He didn’t. 

“Yes,” Kip grumbled once Quinn had recovered. He used gentle hands to move Quinn’s face around, still scanning for damages. Quinn could feel the calluses on the half-elf’s fingertips, caused no doubt from years of fiddle playing and sailing. “Looks like you lucked out. I think you might be alright now. How do you feel?” 

“I don’t know.” Was all he managed to reply. 

 It turned out that Quinn had only been out for about an hour. However, in that time, quite a few things had progressed. 

Oberon was no longer dancing. Apparently his hallucinations had changed and he was going around knighting anything and everything. While he was unconscious, Quinn had been knighted three different times in three different kingdoms. Kip had at least been smart enough to wrestle Oberon’s sword from him as soon as he’d noticed the change. Now, the knightings were all done with the bow of Kip’s fiddle - something the bard was less than thrilled by. 

Gallon had also returned. Instead of running away due to the effects of The Downgrade as they’d all assumed, he’d run off to “collect things” as Kip put it. He’d returned to camp with arms full of fine clothes and jewellery, bottles of expensive wine and perfumes and had placed them lovingly at Kip’s feet. 

“Where’d he-“ 

Kip pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“He stole them from the market.” He turned to the orc, who’d been standing very closely behind Kip throughout the whole conversation. Upon turning, Kip found himself surrounded by a wall of thick, green muscle, eye-level with Gallon’s chest. He paused a moment to appreciate the view before he met the orc’s big doe eyes. “I’m flattered, but you will return it all in the morning. I don’t fancy another trip to the Halambad jail. You aren’t ready for what you’d have to do to get out.” 

“Ok.” Gallon grinned and brought his face down towards Kip’s, but Kip pushed it aside with a frown. 

“Not when you’re like this, Gallon. It’s no fun.” Then he placed his delicate hands on the orc’s chest and gave him an encouraging push. “Go on. Go gather more fire wood, we’ll need it tonight.” 

Without any rebuttal, Gallon was off again into the woods. Gallon, whose main interaction with Kip was calling him stupid or threatening to kill him, put up no fight whatsoever to the order. 

“That was,” Quinn began but didn’t know how to finish. 

He’d been struck silent by how large Gallon was. At 9 feet, the orc had always been bigger than the rest of the party, but never anything remarkable to Quinn. Now, he was a force to be reckoned with - an immovable object. Living rock. He understood now why they all got so tense when he was upset. 

“The Heart Trap.” Kip groaned. 

In the background, Oberon knighted Jade as she sat around the last remnants of the fire. She told him she thought he was being ridiculous and that exiled princes can’t knight anyone. He knighted her again for her frankness. 

As he went through all the potions and the members of their party, Quinn eyed Kip. 

 “You drank the blank.” 

Kip clicked his tongue, “I knew that this would happen. I knew as soon as Jade pushed for it that I’d be the one to drink it. She had some part in it, I swear.” 

“No, I didn’t.” She called. 

“She’s telling the truth.” Almara said from above them. 

“Why does that matter?” Kip scowled. 

At that moment, there was a loud dragging sound coming from the edge of the forest and Gallon emerged, pulling an entire uprooted tree behind him. 

“No, you big dumb orc!” Kip yelled, stomping over to him, much to Gallon’s delight. “That’s not what I meant!” 

By midnight, Kip had had enough. And while it wasn’t in the spirit of the game, he’d asked Almara to put Oberon, Gallon, and Jade to sleep. She did and assured him that she’d keep watch through the night. 

As he lay on Almara’s bedroll, her shadow looming over him in a way that still caused his heart to panic, Quinn looked up at the trees, standing so much higher above him and the stars that felt so much further away. 

His stomach writhed. 

“Relax.” Kip said from behind him. He’d set up his bedroll next to Quinn’s. Quinn still hadn’t gotten used to how close - how real - Kip was to him at this size. It made his heart dance. “Remember, it’s temporary. But if I go mad in the interim, you have my permission to kill everyone when you’re back to being huge and brutish.”

_______________________________________________________________________

(More shenanigans to come! I’m aiming to post part two within the next week. Hope you like it! - ray xx)

[ray-gt]

Something’s Shifted Short: I’ll Be Home for Solstice

Hello!   Thank you so much and I'm so sorry it's taken forever for me to reply to this (we are well and truly past the holiday season, so this is very much too late.) I'm so grateful that you still enjoy my stories, even though I don't post nearly as often as I used to. I love this idea though! And it's been forever since I've written about my girls, so I'm excited to dive back in with them. To answer your question, in my head Lilah's people don't celebrate the same big end of year holidays that humans do. Instead, their major holidays fall on the solstices. In this instance, it is the summer solstice, because I'm from the Southern Hemisphere and I've only ever experienced summer Christmases, so that's what I think of when I think of the holidays! (I know, I'm criminally biased) I wrote a little thing below about all the fun things (and less fun things) that go down when you go to your giant girlfriend's house to celebrate the holidays.   Enjoy! ray xx   

______________________________________________________________  I'll be home for Solstice  

"Remind me," Dani said, turning off the highway. By now she'd done the drive to Lilah's parents' place enough times to memorise it. "The Solstice is..?" "Well, that's the closest to what humans would call it." Lilah said, she was looking in the passenger mirror and running her fingers through here long, dark hair. "This is the Summer Solstice - Athra Estra. In myth, it's the day our goddess, La-Athra, conquered the long dark and brought the everlasting sun to the world." She turned to Dani and her eyes, deep and dark like the sky at midnight, gleamed. "It's my favourite holiday. Everyone you love - friends and family - gathers together to eat, dance, give gifts. And at the end of it all, at sunset, we set off fireworks. It's meant to be symbolic of us continuing La-Athra's battle against the dark, but really it's just a bit of fun." Dani smiled, "I feel bad, you know so much about human culture, but I know nothing about yours. I'm excited." She felt Lilah place a gentle hand on her thigh. "And I'm excited to be able to share it with you. My family always hosts. It felt so strange last year when I was there while the most important person in my life was back at home, completely unaware of who I was. I actually almost invited you." Dani cackled. "That's one hell of a Christmas present, Li. 'Hey, do you want to come to my parents' house for the holidays? By the way I'm a giant and everyone there will also be giants. You in?'. I barely made it through when I actually found out, and that was just your family." Lilah laughed her way through a groan and flung her head back against the headrest. "Oh my god, don't remind me!" Dani smiled and looked over at her girlfriend. She really was beautiful. Her walnut skin glowed in the bright sunlight and hair fell in beautiful, sable curls to her waist. She wore a long, white summer dress that made her look like she'd just appeared out of some long-forgotten fairytale. Dani was similarly dressed in white - though she'd opted for a pair of long white linen trousers and a matching cami. Lilah had told her that wearing white on the Summer Solstice was a sign of good luck for the year. With Lilah's random shifting, we'll need all the luck we can get. Dani thought. "I'm just so glad you're going to be there." Lilah repeated. "So am I," Dani said. It's just a huge celebration of giants all gathered in the one place. What could go wrong?  

*** Actually, to Dani's surprise, Athra Estra was going well.   As always, Lilah's parents, Ava and Elijah, were lovely and made an excessive fuss over Dani, which was always a lot but also touching. So far, she'd spent the majority of it with Lilah and her brothers, Jasper and Conrad.   She had to admit that every time she was introduced to one of Lilah's relatives or friends, she was on edge. Dani didn't love being ogled and stared at constantly, but she wondered what would happen if the roles were reversed - if Billie brought home a partner the size of a phone, would she be any better? She had enough self-awareness to know she wouldn't. At least she could appreciate that everyone was respectful and kept a safe distance and never lingered too long. Overall, despite being near constantly overstimulated by the volume and crowd, Dani was having a good time. However, towards the end of the day, Dani was reaching her limit and Lilah noticed immediately. She tucked her tiny girlfriend in her hands and carried her, close to her chest, to a quiet backroom off the kitchen. The closest Dani could equate it to was a mud room with a door to the backyard, hooks and storage for coats and boots, and a small table and chairs to rest at. It was on this table that Lilah gently placed Dani down.   Dani looked up at her and smiled. "Thank you," She breathed. "I promise, I'm having a good time but, you know, it's a lot." Lilah nodded and smiled. "Totally fine, even I get overwhelmed some times when we have so many people over. I'm amazed you've lasted this long." "What can I say, Li?" Dani shrugged. "I'm pretty tough." Lilah snorted, "Yeah sure. Miss 'I need to take an hour-long bath every Saturday night to decompress'. You're a real soldier." Dani laughed and made to reply but was distracted by a figure opening the back door.   The giant woman that entered through it was striking to say the very least. Golden skin, bright copper hair that fell to her chest, eyes so blue you risked being caught adrift in them. Dressed in a long white flowing slip dress, she was like an ancient goddess. When she saw Lilah she smiled broadly and stretched her arms out wide. "Lilah!" She said with a voice that sounded like it should be paired with red wine. Lilah turned and delight spread across her face. "Oh my goodness! Tia?" She stood up and ran to the woman, embracing her totally. "I didn't know you were coming?" "Of course!" Tia said with Lilah's head tucked against her shoulder. Then the giant's bright eyes zeroed in on Dani and something she couldn't quite define passed over them. "How could I turn down the opportunity to see you? When your ma said you'd be back for Athra, I cancelled all my other plans." Dani watched as she wrapped her long arms further around Lilah's waist - coiling around her like a snake and holding her there, pressed close, one against the other - and a feeling she wasn't proud of stirred in her. When she uncoiled, Tia cupped Lilah's beaming face in her hands and brought it so close, Dani thought she might kiss her.   Maybe this is just a giant thing. You don't know. Don't assume. "Lilah, my love, it's been far too long since I've seen your beautiful face and I've missed it dearly." She said, and as she said it, it was like her tongue was drenched in honey. This is fine. "I was afraid the humans would rub off on you, but you are just as lovely as ever." Less than fine. Dani clamped her teeth down on her tongue. The giant knew she was there, and either she didn't care that Dani would hear or was explicitly saying it so she would. She could hear her sister Billie in the back of her head screaming at her to not back down, to take out her earrings and call the larger woman out. And maybe Billie would be the only human actually willing to go through with that, but Dani certainly wasn't. She knew her strengths. If she could take a major construction corporation to court over WHS concerns and win, she could handle whatever the hell this was. 

"Speaking of," Lilah said, letting the comment slide. She walked back to Dani and crouched beside the table so that hers and Dani's faces were aligned. "Tia, this is my girlfriend, Dani." 

Lilah's smile was so wide and excited that Dani forgot every doubt that had just fluttered through her mind. She couldn't help but smile back. 

Until she heard a laugh from high above her. 

She turned to find Tia's eyes stabbing into her, icy and sparkling. Dani felt the stare ripple through her whole body, knocking loose all her muscles and bones until she felt like she was just jelly in the shape of a person. 

Tia had a sharp eyebrow raised and she crossed her arms over her chest. 

"So, it's true." She said with a half-smile, crooning like there could be no other news that would delight her more. She raised her chin. "I thought it was a joke. Dani, is it? Did I hear that right?" 

Dani nodded. "Yep, nice to-" 

"- Speak up, love." Tia interrupted, emphasising the command with a wave of her hand. "I can't hear you from all the way down there." 

Dani frowned and a number of potential responses rose like magma from her chest, but before she could use any of them, Lilah laughed. 

"Don't worry, Dani. Tia's just messing with you. That's just what she does." 

Tia shrugged casually but her eyes were stony and cold. 

"Lovely." Was all Dani trusted herself to say. 

Then, from the kitchen, Ava called out. "Delilah, I need you in here washing dishes! Come help me." 

Lilah sighed and rolled her eyes. "Ugh, she always has such wonderful timing." She glanced at Dani. "Want to come?" 

Before Dani could reply that 'yes please, she'd do literally anything to get as far away from whoever Tia was and never come across her again', Tia protested. 

"No!" She said, pressing clasped hands to her chest. "Don't take her away. I'd love to get to know Dani a bit better." 

Dani met her eyes and saw a glint in them. There was something predatory about the way they scanned her up and down. Dani paused. Tia had put the challenge before her - would she rise up to meet it, or would she run? It reminded her of something one of the partners of her firm told her after a run-in with a particularly nasty client. 

'O'Brien, the worst kind of people will inflate themselves to feel big and make you feel small, but it's always an act. All it takes is one well-timed hit to their ego and they run off, tail tucked and whimpering. Know your value, don't back down.' 

She wondered if that still applied in this moment. 

Lilah blinked, taken aback seemingly by Tia's eagerness. Brief glimpses of different reactions flashed across her face in a moment. 

"Oh, ok." She said before looking at Dani, searching for confirmation that she was comfortable with the request. "Is that alright?" 

Dani glanced back and forth between Lilah and Tia and closed her fists. 

"Yep." She forced a smile. "I'd be happy to." 

Lilah's stare lingered on her for a second longer. She was unconvinced, but didn't argue.  

"Ok," She said. Then she kissed Dani, covering the whole side of her face with her lips. "Love you." 

Then Ava called out again and, with a huff, Lilah left the room, leaving Dani and Tia alone.  

***  

"So, how do you know Lilah?" Dani asked, staring up at Tia who had sat down on one of the chairs at the table. The giant had her elbows up and was resting her chin on her interwoven fingers, staring down at her. 

"Well, it's funny story actually." Tia replied, drawing it out slow. "Let's just say, I was you before you. If that makes sense." 

Fantastic. 

Dani had met plenty of exes before, finding that they span a spectrum between the loveliest people she'd ever met and people she'd rather die than meet again. And while it was always unpleasant to begin with, she usually felt like she could hold her ground. Now, her ground was a kitchen table the size of a house, and the ex a towering giant far above her.  

"You know," Tia continued, she undid her hands and brought a pointed nail to draw loosely on the table in front of Dani's feet. "We took a break when Lilah wanted to have her little 'adventure with the humans'." At this, she fluttered her fingers as if she found the whole idea a childish fantasy Lilah just needed to get out of her system. "And, I couldn't believe it because, after three years, she's still playing pretend with them! And what's even crazier is that, a year ago, she comes back and tells me that we won’t get back together because she's met someone." 

Oh no. 

"And not just anyone. A human!" She shook her head in disbelief and her copper locks swayed like curtains in a breeze. Her frown was low and dark and Dani hated that the entirety of if was directed at her. "So, when I found out that the human in question would be coming to Athra Estra, I knew I had to see what the fuss was all about." 

Dani clenched her jaw, planted her feet, and cross her arms. 

I won't be bullied. 

"And?" She asked, tilting her head and swallowing down the terror when she met Tia's stare. 

Tia squinted her eyes, and her long, dark lashes blinked slowly. Her brow lowered and she smirked. Dani watched with dread as an idea bloomed across the larger woman's face. 

"And," Tia drawled. She raised the finger she'd been drawing across the table surface and, before Dani could appropriately react, Tia brought it under her chin. Lilah had done something similar before, but this was different. Very different. Lilah was gentle and soft. In those instances, Dani felt more like her chin was resting on Lilah's finger than Lilah pushing her to do anything. She'd never had any other giant come so far into her personal space before, let alone touch her. Tia's nail held her captive. It dug into her skin and forced her to look up. She swallowed and the nail dug deeper.  

"Well, I can see how a human could be a little bit of fun for a while. Especially one so pretty." She purred through it and Dani couldn't stop her breath from becoming haggard and desperate. Her heart was pounding beneath her ribs. Her hands gripped the finger, trying to push it away but it was no use against the larger woman. Tia tutted her tongue and shook her head. "But I think Lilah will come to her senses soon and realise just how silly it is." 

Dani fought everything in her body telling her muscles to freeze and managed to push herself backwards and away from the nail. 

"Don't touch me." She said, and her voice was softer than she'd liked. She rubbed her neck and the feel of the dent on her skin made her burn hot. She cleared her throat and when she next spoke, her voice sounded stronger and firmer than she felt inside. "Don't touch me. Don't talk to me like that. I really don't care if you like me, but I'm a person, and I refuse to be treated like this." 

Tia snorted. "You refuse, do you? That's sweet." 

Then she slammed her fist down on the table right next to Dani making her yelp and stumble back and lose her footing. She fell back on the table, staring with horror at the hand half the size of her own body curled in a tight, white-knuckled fist. 

Above her, Tia laughed. 

"Sorry, darling," She said. "I think my elbow slipped. I really should be more careful." She paused and looked down at Dani. "What were you saying?" 

Tia adjusted her fist and Dani couldn't help but flinch at the movement. She felt her face blanch. Tia hummed. 

"Now, this?" Her smile showed teeth. "This explains Lilah's interest. This is fun." 

Before Dani could scramble away, the fist unfurled and scooped her up from the table, and as she felt the giant fingers curl around her and yank her into the air, Dani couldn't help but scream. She squirmed in the grip as Tia brought it close to her huge, beautiful face. The giant used a finger from her other hand to brush against Dani's hair and every time it made contact, Dani shuddered. 

"Let me go." She managed. 

Tia laughed again but now it was impossibly loud, and the sight of her huge teeth so close sent every one of Dani's nerves into overdrive. 

Lilah, please come back. 

But she knew if she called out, no one would hear her. 

"If I were you, Dani." Tia warned. "I'd be more careful of what I demanded of people who were so much bigger than me. Who could tighten their fingers," At this, Dani felt the grip around her constrict and she struggled to breathe. "A do some real damage. My, with even the smallest movement, I could kill you. And that would be so terrible!" 

Know your value. Don't back down.  

"Then do it." Dani challenged with a strained voice. She did her best to raise her chin. 

In that moment, confusion flicked across Tia's glacial eyes and, for a moment, she seemed unsure. 

"What?" She snarled. 

Dani swallowed down her thundering heart and hoped her face didn't betray just how terrified she was. She’d mastered what Lilah had called her "lawyer face", which was what she used to drive away the flood of imposter syndrome that always came when she was given an important case. So far, it had carried her through a lot of uncomfortable exchanges. She hoped it would see her through now. 

"All you have are empty threats." She said, doing her best to ignore just how much bigger Tia was than her - that she very much could go through with whatever cruel fantasy she'd conjured behind her crystalline eyes. "You say you could do anything to me, that you could hurt me, and I believe it. But you won’t follow through." She lowered her voice and, whether she was conscious of it of not, Tia leant in. "If I were you, I’d think just a little bit. Are you really going to hurt me here? Here? In Lilah's family home, with her in the very next room? With potential witnesses coming in at any moment? That is really, really stupid. If I were you, I’d be smarter than that." 

Tia's expression darkened to a terrible scowl but, to Dani's surprise and relief, the grip around her body loosened. Tia used her free hand to comb through her long hair as she slowly lowered the one holding Dani. When it was back on the table, she opened it and Dani sprawled out, panting.  

"Clearly," The giant said, though her tone wavered. "Humans don't understand a joke when it's right in front of them." She shot a glare down at Dani. "But I would be careful, Dani. Darling. You'd be so easy to lose in this big world. And that would be a tragedy." 

Then she stood up and walked back through the door to outside, leaving Dani heaving in a pile of stress and sweat. 

Eventually, Dani forced herself to sit up. She placed a hand on her chest and felt the drumming beneath her ribs. She let out a long breath and slowly it returned to a normal rhythm.  

She realised just how naive she'd been. All the giants she'd me before were unbelievably kind. She hadn't even considered that one may actively dislike her or take advantage of their significant power over her.  

"I need to be more careful." 

Then from behind, she heard a voice that cleared all the stress and tension away. "Dani!"  

She turned to see Lilah glowing in the doorway, her face framed with her long dark hair. 

When Lilah saw her, she frowned. "You ok?" She walked over to the table and bent down again. "Where's Tia?" 

Even the name sent a ripple down Dani's spine.  

"She left." She said simply, then she ran a hand through her hair, feeling where her sweat had drenched the roots. "Christ, Li, she's a piece of work."  

Concern flashed on Lilah's face and she scanned Dani for any sign of injury. "What did she do?" 

She didn't know why she didn't want to tell Lilah what had really happened. Maybe there was part of her that thought Tia was right - that if she knew how dangerous this relationship could be, Lilah would leave it.  

So Dani just waved her concern off. "It's fine." Then she forced out a laugh and winked. "I scared her off." 

Lilah grinned. "Did you now?" 

"I'm very intimidating, Lilah." 

"I don't doubt it, love." Lilah laughed. "Come on, it's almost sunset. I want to show you something." 

As Lilah stretched her hand towards her, as she had so many times before, Dani flinched. It was something Lilah noticed and something Dani tried to hide. Neither of them addressed it. Dani took a deep breath and stepped onto Lilah's palm and at once, it was familiar again. 

Lilah took her outside. The sky was almost dark and all around, Lilah's friends and family gathered, looking up.  

Then the moment they were waiting for came and from somewhere out of sight, huge fireworks shot up into the black sky like paint splattered onto a canvas. 

They exploded into a thousand different colours and rained down like falling stars from above. Each one sent a boom through Dani's whole body, and behind her, she could feel the jump of Lilah's heart every time. And, despite herself, in that moment, Dani believed in magic. 

"Happy Athra Estra, Dani." Lilah said from above her. 

Then she felt her girlfriend raise her hand and kiss her head. Dani smiled, staring up at the sky, all her fears forgotten. 

"Happy Athra Estra, Li."

_______________________________________________________________________

(Thank you again for the ask! This was really fun to write. I’ve missed my girls. - ray xx)

Read more of Dani and Lilah’s store here!

[ray-gt]

Rules of the Party: Art of the Deal

Kip and the Prince of Giants come to an agreement.

______________________________________________________________________

After negotiations with the Queen's Guard failed, Kip was reluctantly marched out of the hall, down a long corridor, through an unlit room whose purpose he couldn't discern, and out onto a balcony overlooking the sea. Well, Kip couldn't actually see the sea, the stone wall marking the edge of the balcony stood well above his head. However, he knew it was facing the sea because the rising moon was in full view and the evening had not yet reached maturity. Kip knew the passage of the moon and the patterns of the unrelenting stars better than most - he'd studied them for as long as he could remember. A constant guide over an ever-changing sea, it was the map of a wandering heart. 

On the balcony stood the expectant prince, tall and proud and quiet. The breeze from the coast wound through his chestnut curls, and the moonlight made his white tattoos shine. His gaze was distant, focussed far off on something Kip couldn't see. 

It wasn't until Kip cleared his throat that he turned, seemingly shaken from some hungry thought. He glanced at Kip before dismissing the accompanying guard with a quick wave of his hand. 

The guard bowed low and exited without a word. Once they were alone, Quinn studied Kip in silence. His dark eyes, black as volcanic ash, scanned over him in a way that Kip was used to but never much liked. 

Let's just get this over with. 

"So," He said. All this smiling was making his cheeks hurt. That was the problem with royals, they demanded too much courtesy. He spread his arms wide in question. "A private audience with the Thelebar heir, on his betrothal night no less. What makes me so lucky?" 

The Prince cringed when Kip mentioned the occasion. His hands tightened and knotted themselves together. 

Quinn's voice was soft but steady, like the tread of green grass underfoot on a spring morning. He didn't have the grit or haughtiness Kip was used to hearing from those told from birth that the world existed in service to them. Kip didn't have that. No one had told him, he'd just always known. That presents differently in one's tonal quality and overall disposition. 

"That was quite the display." Quinn said, his tone even if unsure, stealing a glance at Kip whenever he felt brave enough. 

Kip found his best laugh and bowed low. "The best art uses the best muses, my Prince." He watched as Quinn looked away. He grinned. This was so easy. Then he remembered why the guard said he'd been summoned and he quickly backtracked. "Of course, to entertain is the burden and the privilege of any bard. We exist to perform." 

Prince Quinn's stare returned to the view that Kip couldn't see. He was silent again for a while and Kip took his distraction as a chance to glance at the door. On the other side of the dark room stood the silhouette of the giant guard - too far away to listen, but definitely blocking the path of escape. Clearly, Kip wasn't going anywhere until the Prince was done with him. Well, if that were the case, he wished Quinn would just hurry up with it. Kip was, despite his peril, becoming rather bored. There was something about brooding types that he couldn't stand, or understand for that matter. They, in his opinion, spent far too long thinking about things that never mattered, and not enough time actually living. It was why he avoided any one-on-one interactions with their beloved leader Jade. Any joke he made she would turn into an opportunity to philosophise. Every quip was taken seriously. Every story was a tragedy. If Kip was a shanty, Jade was dirge. 

He'd done his best over the last few weeks to save her from that fate, but no matter how many times he'd told her that rogue ranger types were only interesting in the back of remote taverns, smoking pipes, and telling stories of histories long forgotten, she never listened. She always opted to be the 'silent observer' and, frankly, Kip thought it was played out. 

Quinn was becoming more dirge-like by the second. 

Such a waste of a pretty face. 

Then, as if prompted by his thoughts, the Prince spoke once more, nervous. "It is expected that, after such a declaration, I am to invite you to the contest for my hand, regardless of how... unconventional that may be." Kip watched as Quinn regarded his much smaller figure with a perplexed expression. "But, if I were to do that, you would surely die, and," He paused and muttered breathily. "I wouldn't want that." 

Kip pressed his lips together and frowned. He looked at his hands, scanning them for any potential hangnails. "I can't say I'm fond of the idea either," He said. "But thankfully, there is a simple solution. Don't invite me to contest, and then you can pick a suitor you actually want, and I can leave and never return. Easy." 

"You don't seem to understand." The Prince said. "If I don’t, the court will assume you've refused the invitation, which would not be taken kindly." 

The image of Queen Lindessë's cruel eyes flashed in Kip's mind. He couldn't imagine her extending any further lenience his way, particularly after potentially insulting her son's honour. She had proven, in his opinion, fickle that way. 

Fantastic. 

Kip sighed and rested his hands on his hips. Staring up at Quinn's face, he raised an eyebrow. Somewhere there, hidden behind the glow of his skin, the ridge of his high cheekbones, the shine of his pretty midnight eyes, and his blushed lips was something Kip knew too well. It was the look of someone with something to trade. He groaned internally. 

"I'd never want to offend the court." He ventured, rolling his head on his shoulders. "And I'm assuming you may not feel inclined to explain that misunderstanding away out of the goodness of your sizeable heart." 

The Prince loomed above him, more than triple his height. Kip raised his eyebrows and waited. Finally, Quinn let out a long sigh. 

"I want to come with you." He said at last, his voice was so laden with hope and boyish wonder that it caused Kip to choke on a laugh. "I want to travel with you and your party. See the world. Adventure. All of it." 

Kip couldn't help but grimace. Suddenly, being violently executed didn't sound so awful after all. Anything to get out of this. He looked around. Usually in these situations, he'd find some excuse to remove himself. He'd fake an illness or start a bar fight - anything to give him just enough time to get away. This time was presenting itself as more difficult. 

He sucked his teeth and scowled. 

"Adventuring is one way of phrasing it." He conceded. "Most would call it thievery." 

The Prince's doe eyes widened. "Is that what you are? Thieves?" 

"Yes, most of the time,” Kip droned. "Sometimes mercenaries, sometimes smugglers. It really depends on the job. Anyway, you're set to inherit the most powerful kingdom either side of the Isle. Why turn now at the passing of the sceptre? Believe me, you don’t want our life - I find you like the world a lot more when you haven't seen it." 

"I don’t want to rule." Quinn muttered quietly, turning and resting his arms on the stone railing. "And I definitely don't want to get married. At least not now." 

Kip paused and a deep feeling he usually ignored awoke in him like the stirring of an old memory, shaking off dust. As soon as he'd first seen Quinn, Kip noticed it - the Prince's reluctance, his embarrassment, the weight of a crown too heavy on his head. His desire to run. 

"My condolences. Truly." Kip said with as much sympathy as he was known to openly display. "But there's nothing I can do about that." 

Quinn set his jaw. He was beginning to look more and more desperate. He turned and crouched down in front of Kip so that the bard didn't have to constantly recline his head to look up at him. This close, the giant was remarkably striking. Kip could see every intricate element of the design of his birthright tattoos. He studied each of his long lashes as the Prince blinked, stunned each time he closed his eyes and opened them again. The colour of them - black as the space behind the innumerable stars - seemed impossibly new. He could feel the steady tide of the larger man’s breath wash over him in gentle waves. It took Kip a moment to remember that Quinn was blackmailing him. 

These are the faces that get you into trouble, Kip. You never learn. 

Unaware of his own effect on the half-elf, Quinn continued his plea. 

"Your party seem like interesting folk." He pushed, listing them off on his fingers. "A half-elf, a tiefling, an orc, and two humans?" 

"Yes..." Kip said, drawing it out slow, drowning it in suspicion. He decided not to mention the Fey that was waiting back on the ship for them. He feared the reaction it might elicit. 

Quinn smiled a brilliant smile and shrugged casually, like he were haggling down the price of maize and not proposing to disown his kingdom and leave them as fleeing fugitives for the rest of their days. 

"Well, then, what's a giant in the mix?" 

Kip cross his arms, deciding to speak slowing, punctuating each word to emphasise the gravity of the suggestion. In his opinion, beautiful people were often stupid - it was why Gallon was so handsome and Jade was so plain. Thankfully, Kip was the exception to the rule. However, he could hardly say the same for the Prince and, as such, he needed to be clear. 

So beautiful, but so hopeless. 

"If the giant is the sole heir to the Thelebar throne, then that means we get hunted across the world like rats. That's a giant in the mix." 

Quinn frowned and a shadow passed over his face. In the silence, Kip could almost see the response forming. Then, the Prince stood once more, towering high above Kip and making him crane his neck in a way he never enjoyed. He rolled his eyes. 

Why do the big folk always throw their height around like anyone cares? 

Quinn clenched his huge fists together and stared down at the bard. 

"The way I see it." He said, in a calm tone that sent a shiver over Kip's skin. "You have three options: (1) you can refuse my invitation to contest the betrothal and my mother will certainly kill you for the insult. Violently, I might add. (2) you can accept my invitation to contest the betrothal and one of my suitors with certainly kill you - again, violently. Or (3) you can let me journey with you and your party, and we can just disappear tonight." He pressed his lips together and shrugged. 

Kip's mouth gaped as he met the Prince's eye. He scanned the length of his massive body, taking in his height and width. 

He does understand how large he is, doesn't he? 'Just disappearing' might not be an option. Where would we go? Heron is going to lose her mind. 

For the first time in a very long time, Kip found himself speechless. The last time was when a courtier in Halambad spiked his drink with 'stone-tongue' when she caught him having too much fun with her brother. Though, in Kip's defence, that could hardly count. If he included every time he'd been cursed, drugged, charmed, gagged, enchanted, poisoned, and/or captured, there wouldn't be many days left for him. 

"Well," He exhaled with flared nostrils, biting his lip. "Aren't I the envy of all? Spoiled for choice it seems." 

The Prince eyed him with a stare he was all too familiar with and one he'd come to dread - the kind that said, ‘save me’. It called to mind a terribly awkward break-up with a former, very influential dalliance. What was her name? He couldn’t quite recall. 

'You have a tongue of fool's gold, Kip.' She'd said through wet sobs. 'Pretty, oh so pretty, until you find it is nothing of what it pretends to be. Enchanting in the moment, worthless in the end. I would have forsaken everything for you. I would have followed you anywhere. Only now, I realise you never planned on taking me.' 

Really, it had all been rather awkward. In that instance, starting a bar fight had worked, and he was able to slip away before he had to answer. He never saw her again, but news from his contacts at various ports along the West coast confirmed the same thing: Kip was no longer welcome in Sullis. It was a shame, he liked performing for the Suls. 

Now, he saw that same naive, enchanted hope in the Prince's gaze as he’d seen in hers when they’d first met. He pursed his lips together. He knew this was a bad idea. He knew the party would think it was a bad idea. But none of the alternative options thrilled him either. What had Jade said? No good can come from charming a giant? Squinting up at Quinn’s massive face, Kip had to admit that for once, she might have be right. 

He sighed and clapped his hands. 

"Alright, Master Thelebar. Let's talk terms." 

 *** 

Jade scanned the tree line and set her jaw. 

 Nothing. No sign of their bard. 

After Kip was escorted off, Jade made the executive decision to abandon the job. This business with the Thelebar Prince had made her suspicious from the beginning, no matter what assurances Kip had thrown out to placate her. When she was young, her mother had told her to ‘only wade out in water you can swim in, and never so far as to lose the shore’. 

This job, to rob the prince of giants of his dowry, was already wading into more treacherous waters than she was comfortable in. But now, after being discovered by Queen Lindessë, Kip being personally singled out by the Prince, and having every eye of every giant fixed on them, they had well and truly lost sight of the shore. 

The rest of the group had mixed feelings about the retreat. Almara thought there was greater opportunity to be had and walking away meant potentially never having the chance again. Oberon, though tempted by the promise of the dowry, sided with Jade, muttering something about the ‘Elf being more trouble than he’s worth’. Gallon, as expected, backed Oberon in whatever he decided, though Jade sensed some reluctance in their orc companion. Whether it was the prize of the job or the retreat itself that left him dissatisfied, Jade wasn’t sure, but his large face was stuck in a frown as they packed up camp and loaded their supplies onto the Burnt Sienna. 

Jade stood tall and still on the beach. The breeze had changed direction and was now coming in from the West, which would assist them in leaving the giant shores and crossing the Isle as quickly as possible once, of course, their captain returned. 

Almara had been firm on waiting for Kip. While the thought was tempting after Kip’s own actions had led them to this point, there was no real chance of Jade leaving him behind. For one, he was one of the best sailors to traverse the Isle and they’d never make it far without him. Two, he was a member of their party, warts and all, and she would not abandon him. 

 A small smirk tickled her lips as she pictured how horrified Kip would be at the suggestion of him having literal or proverbial ‘warts’. 

 The Burnt Sienna stood tall and proud behind her, its deep reddish-brown exterior now almost black under the cover of night. It was a large ship. Kip had explained to them early on that a bigger ship meant better jobs. He’d been evasive when she’d asked how he’d procured one so beautiful. Then again, none of them had records a mother could love, so she couldn’t fathom it was through the usual markets. 

Gentle waves lapped at its sides in such a calming way, it would almost be easy to forget that these waters circled the most perilous territory in the world - that this was giant country. One only needed to turn away from the shore, as she had, and look at the tree line to be reminded. These trees were far larger than any found on the East Continent. The smallest ones, where the woods were thinnest, towered at 100 feet at least. Thankfully, Jade’s long years navigating the dark forests of the world had seen them through to the Thelebar Halls, she can’t imagine anyone unfamiliar with the territory attempting to pass unaided. 

This brought her mind back to Kip who, as he often said, had many skills, talents, and delights. However, none of these would help him to find his way to the beach from the Halls alone. She tucked a short black strand of hair behind her ear and shook her head. 

“Kip has been a while.” She said at last. “Shall we look for him?” 

Behind her, leaning against the bow of the Sienna, Oberon snorted. “If the Elf’s dug his own grave, who are we to interrupt the funeral? I say we leave.” 

Sitting on the railing on the deck of the Sienna, Almara made a strangled sound. 

“Shame on you, Oberon! Mind your tongue. Kip is a dear friend of mine, and he saved us all no less than an hour ago.” 

Jade turned to find that Oberon had removed himself from the shadow of the bow to get a view up at Almara. He spread his hands. 

“He saved us from his own error! Since when was settling a debt considered a noble deed?” 

Almara just tutted and shook her head at him, before directing her attention down at Jade. 

“I say, if he’s not back by midnight, we look for him.” 

Jade turned to Gallon. The orc had decided to rest after loading the last of their supplies below deck. He sat on a log, poking at the burnt remains of last night’s fire with a stick only he could reasonably hold. She raised an eyebrow at him. 

“Gallon? What do you think?” 

The orc grunted. His thick green lips curled over his protruding canines. 

“Gone by morning.” He said simply. 

Jade nodded. He was right. Queen Lindessë had extended them guest rights for the night only. They couldn’t be harmed until the dawn of the new day. She had strongly advised that they be gone by then, and Jade was in no mood to discover what cruelty the queen of giants was capable of. What she’d heard in her travels hadn’t brought her any comfort. 

“Should we ask Heron?” She said to no one in particular, knowing one of them would answer. 

“She’s asleep.” Oberon said. 

 “And we know what she would say.” Almara added, glaring down at Oberon. “You try explaining to her why we left Kip behind. She’d probably set the ship alight just to spite us.” 

Oberon rolled his eyes but his expression said he knew Almara wasn’t too far off the truth. That was another thing Jade’s mother had always warned her: never upset one of the Fey. 

Almara met her stare. The tiefling’s periwinkle skin took on a silver quality in the moonlight. Her indigo hair was delicately braided around her horns, decorated with gold jewellery, and pulled into a long ponytail high on her head. She wrapped her cloak further about herself and shrugged. 

“I can go with you.” She said. “The boys can stay with Heron and the Sienna and prep for a quick escape if need be.” 

Jade looked at Oberon, who seemed amenable to the idea. He crossed his arms over his leather cuirass, his ebony skin rippling over his biceps. 

“Why is it that ever since the Elf joined the party, ‘a quick escape’ has become the norm?” 

Jade smiled. Before she could reply, a rustling sound from behind drew her attention back to the tree line. Automatically, her hands flew to her bow and she notched an arrow from the quiver on her shoulder. Around her, the party similarly readied themselves. Oberon drew his long sword, Almara’s hands lit up with flame, and Gallon rose to full height, his hammer hanging ready at his side. 

 One eye closed, Jade zeroed in on the source of the sound. 

‘Calm. Never shoot until you see the target, love. That’s not our way.’ 

She waited, and the rest of the group waited for her. They knew the score by now. Whatever complaints they had over her leadership every now and then, in the heat of the moment, Jade made the call. 

Then the moment arrived and they collectively let out a sigh. 

Kip emerged from the undergrowth as though the trees were theatre curtains and he was waltzing out to perform before an eager audience. His arms were spread and his smile was broad as he made his way onto the beach. 

“There’s been a change of plan!” He announced. 

“Oh joy,” Oberon grumbled, lowering his sword. “The bard lives.” 

“Hush, Oberon.” Kip said with a dismissive wave. “Your voice is too abrasive for the place and the hour.” 

At this, Gallon’s whole body - a wall of green skin, scars, muscle, and power - tensed. It was the kind of thing everyone felt. Gallon was, for the most part, mild-tempered. However, he had little tolerance for insults directed at Oberon. They’d all learned that at some point - Kip faster than most. It didn’t stop Kip though, in fact, it seemed to egg him on. 

Kip directed his keen glance over to the orc and placed a gentle hand on his chest. 

“You needn’t worry, my dear Gallon.” He said. “Your voice is rough and rich, and I would listen to it until old age and the cruel wear of time stole my hearing from me. Unfortunately, your brother has not been blessed with your gifts.” 

After a long moment wherein everyone held their breath, the tension left Gallon’s body and the orc grinned. Oberon shook his head, doing his best to restrain a smile. 

“You are so easily bought, brother.” 

Gallon merely shrugged in response. 

Almara descended from the Sienna’s deck, jumping off the railing with the deft skill only a tiefling managed to have. She landed with bare feet deep in the damp sand. 

“So,” She beamed at Kip. “What’s the change of plan?” 

Despite the convincing story the bard’s smile was telling them, Jade noticed his left eye twitch. He ran his delicate fingers through his greenish-blue locks before resting them on his chin. His usually sun-baked golden skin was slightly paler than usual. 

“Well,” He said. “Funny you should ask that actually. It’s a very interesting story, and -” 

Oberon groaned and pinched the bridge of his prominent nose. “Just say it.” He growled. “What mess have you landed us in? Just tell us.” 

Kip’s genial expression flickered and he rolled his shoulders. He opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it again. His sparkling eyes, the colour of rock pools, blinked. 

“Right.” He said. “Prince Quinn would like to come with us.” 

Jade’s brain went foggy and she questioned if she’d heard him correctly. However, the reactions of the crew were enough to confirm that she had. 

“What?” Oberon said, jaw slack. 

“Please, tell me you’re joking.” Almara added. 

Even Gallon raised an eyebrow. 

Kip avoided all their eyes and shrugged innocently - or as innocently as Kip could ever do anything. 

“He wants to ‘join us on our adventures’.” He explained, using his fingers to mime out the quote. “I think that’s how he put it.” 

“Adventures?” Almara repeated. “Does he know what our lives are like?” 

“I tried to tell him.” 

“Prince Quinn.” Oberon said emptily, as if he were still processing. “As in, the Thelebar Heir. Son of Queen Lindessë, ruler of giants. That Prince Quinn.” 

Kip frowned at him. “You’re slower than usual tonight.” 

“Kip.” Jade warned. 

The bard sighed. “Yes, that Prince Quinn. He cornered me and I was short on options.” 

Jade frowned. “Why leave now?” 

Kip cast his stare in her direction. “Apparently, he’s not too fond of the idea of being betrothed. Or becoming king.” 

A snort escaped Almara. “After that performance, my dear, I think he might just be too fond of the idea of you.” 

Kip raised his chin and winked at her. “He wouldn’t be the first, love.” 

“Can we focus, please?” Oberon chastised. Jade had never seen him so tense. “The Prince wants to leave his kingdom… with us?” 

Kip clicked his tongue. “Didn’t you do the same?” 

Oberon’s face looked like Kip had just slapped it. 

“I was exiled, you dimwit.” Off to their left, Gallon huffed. “Sorry.” Oberon corrected. “We were exiled.” 

Kip’s patience for the minutia of the details was quickly waning. Ironic, since he was the one, once again, changing the details. 

“Right,” He said. “Yes, very tragic. Both of you. But really, what is escape if not self-imposed exile?” 

At this, something clicked in Jade’s brain. She studied Kip and he was soon aware of it, flinching just so under her stare. Kip had always avoided spending too much time with her and yet, she felt she understood him fairly well. 

“You’ve already agreed to this, haven’t you?” She asked. 

The group turned to Kip and waited. 

The half-elf gasped. 

“Without consulting with the party?” He said. “Absolutely not. I would never.” 

At that moment, before any of them could ready their weapons, a huge figure emerged from the tree line and presented themselves on the beach. Standing approximately 17 feet tall, he looked remarkably like the giant prince from the Thelebar Hall. Jade and the rest of the group, bar Kip who still had his back to the trees, stared up at the stranger. Jade’s stomach lurched. 

“Hello!” The giant waved a massive hand in their direction. 

Kip clicked his tongue again. 

“Then again.” His voice was strained. “I might have. Yes. Now that I think about it, I did. Yes.” 

“Lindessë will hunt us down to the end of the Earth and march us off the edge by the point of her sword.” Oberon whispered, his gaze never leaving the Prince. 

“There is no end of the Earth.” Kip replied. “I’ve looked.” 

Jade shook her head. “Not the point, Kip.” 

There was an awkward pause wherein nothing happened and nobody moved. The party was, largely, unfamiliar with giants. All of them, save Kip, had seen them for the first time that night. Now, one wanted to join them? 

A million questions raged around Jade’s head, though she asked none of them. The main one was “How?”. How would a giant in their group work? How would they get back across the Isle with one on board? How could they escape Lindessë? How could they continue their work back on the East Continent with one shadowing them the entire time? She didn’t know. They had well and truly waded out too far. 

Thankfully, Jade wasn’t forced to break the silence, Almara took that role upon herself. She forced a smile and walked over to the Prince who awkwardly knelt on one knee before her. 

“I for one,” She said, doing her best to appropriately project her voice, “Am intrigued by our new addition.” She turned to the Prince and extended out her arm - an act by any account worthy of praise. “I am Almara Blackstrand, and I look forward to a long and prosperous friendship with you, my Prince.” 

The Prince swallowed and stared down at her small hand before he took it in his much larger one and, with a concerted effort, lightly shook it. 

“Uh, thank you.” He said, shuffling in his squat. “You can just call me Quinn.” 

Almara grinned again and nodded, retracting her hand. “Ok, Quinn.” 

“He’s going to get us killed.” Oberon whispered to the rest of the group. 

 To his chagrin, giants proved to have better hearing than they’d otherwise assumed, and Quinn’s dark eyes found him. The giant’s face reddened but he pushed through with a smile. 

“I will try my best not to.” 

“Great.” Oberon grumbled. “I’m convinced.” 

“Stupid, Kip.” Gallon shook his head. 

“Yes, Gallon,” Kip nodded, his expression tight. “Noted. Thank you.” 

Oberon turned to Jade and, slowly all eyes present followed suit. 

“Jade?” He said. “What do you think? We will follow your call.” 

Jade let out a long breath through her nostrils. She glanced at Kip and whispered in the lowest voice she could manage. 

“No other options?” 

For the first time in a long time, Kip looked genuinely unnerved. He replied with an almost imperceptible shake of his head. His perfect hair fell about his freckled face in a mess. 

“None that would end well.” He whispered back. 

Jade nodded and her attention went to Quinn who remained kneeling on the beach. She walked over towards him, marvelling at how much bigger he was than the rest of them. 

And she thought Gallon was large. 

She swallowed down the innate dread urging her to retreat, and crossed her arms. 

“My name is Jade Cavernthorne. I think all of us can, in some way, empathise with your situation.” She said. “We may not always operate on the right side the law, but we can still make some claim to honour.” She grew serious. “If you come with us, you follow our rules and you pull your own weight. Understand?” 

“I mean, who else could?” Oberon muttered loud enough for Jade to hear, meaning that Quinn heard it too. 

For his part, the giant ignored the comment. His large dark eyes were focused solely on Jade and she did her best to remain calm under it. After a moment, he beamed. 

“I can do that.” He promised with more surety than Jade thought he could afford. 

Jade sighed and nodded. Behind her, Oberon groaned. 

Almara smiled and pat a gentle hand on the giant’s leg. “There we are.” She said. “Welcome to the family, Quinn.” 

From beneath the shadow of the Sienna, Kip balked. “The what?” 

Jade turned, eager to get the giant out of view, and marched back to the ship. “Ok, it’s settled.” She called so that all present could hear her. “Get ready to depart.” 

As she passed Kip, she grabbed his bicep and pulled him close. 

“He’s your responsibility now, got that?” 

Not waiting for his response, she released the half-elf and made her way towards the ship. Before boarding, she heard Oberon whisper to Gallon. 

“I don’t know if you’re still the strongest, brother. We have more pressing concerns.” 

 *** 

As they sailed away into the East, Quinn, cramped on the deck, stared back at the continent that had been his entire world. Everything he’d ever known was everything he was leaving behind. The breeze whipped through his hair. 

I’m really doing this. 

Other than Kip standing behind him at the helm, there wasn’t a soul on deck - the rest of the party were below. Suddenly, Quinn heard the bard begin to sing in a cracked and husky voice - softly, as if only to entertain himself on the long journey through the night. 

“West is where the traveller goes  when the wandering days are done. It’s where the night farewells the day, at the setting of the sun. West is where the oldest shore fights back against the swell. It’s where a story goes to die, when there’s no one left to tell. 

But if, my dear, you seek to roam, upon the Eastern shore - come, meet me there. Come, meet me there! We’ll walk forevermore. 

 In Camroth-Kar and Dannedah, in Halambad and Lile, in Finryeth and Gal-Rok-Nash, and Sullis-on-the-Isle.  We’ll journey there. We’ll journey there. If you’ll walk with me a while. 

 But if nothing else could bid you come to walk this life with me, perhaps, far West, I’ll meet you there on a shore across the sea.”

_______________________________________________________________________

I will emerge from my hole to post this and disappear again because I’m in my goblin era. A follow-up to a story I wrote forever ago. Enjoy! - ray xx

(Part One: Tongue of the Bard)

[ray-gt]

Fermi Paradox (Pt. 7)

There are no benefits to being a microbiologist.

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 /

_______________________________________________________________________

Part 7: Close Encounters of a First Kind.

Day: Cycle 44  Location: Drun Spaceship (Long-term Holding) Mission: Be Nice to the New Roommate / Work on the Plan / Project Wayfinder (Enceladus) 

Daksh clutched his spacesuit helmet close to his chest as his new cellmate made her way over to the table on which he stood. Whether it was a poor attempt at shielding himself, or simply a lifeline of normalcy to cling to as his reality broke, shifted, reformed, and shattered for the thousandth time that day, he really couldn't say. As she waltzed over to him, grinning in a way he very much didn’t like, he backed up until the small of his back pressed against the railing of the platform and he could move no further. 

When she was standing right in front of it, the table came to her hips and she stole a moment longer to tower over him, raising her eyebrows and smiling just enough to flash her pointed canines at him. Her dark blue hair shone under the white light of the cell in a way that, from Daksh's viewpoint, looked like a halo. 

Daksh watched as she crouched down so that her face was level with his and she rested her crossed arms on the table, leaning in to study him closer. Again, he pushed back against the railing of the platform, somehow hoping that he could faze through it. 

Then again, would that land me any better? I'd still be stuck on a table far above the ground, inside a locked cell. With… her. 

Her dark eyes, glossy like black jade, scanned him. Again, she grinned, though this time like she were about to laugh. 

"A human?" She said, her voice husky yet melodic as it washed over him and surrounded him with sound. "I didn't realise they'd left their burrow yet. And who knew they were so small!" 

Daksh stared at the face filling his entire view as she waited for a reply that wouldn't come. Somehow, this was worse than the Drun. Though they were bigger than his cellmate, there was something impersonal and clinical about the militarists. But here, with her, it all felt like a game he was destined to lose. He swallowed thickly and clutched the spacesuit helmet closer to himself, breathing heavily. 

After a sustained silence, the giant frowned, and Daksh didn’t know if that was worse than the grin. She straightened a little and placed one hand on her chest. 

"I'm Shami." She said before looking at him expectantly. 

Daksh felt like all the connections between his brain and his mouth were fried because, despite his brain telling him to 'Hey, man, oh my god, just say something. Literally anything.', no words came. Rather, his mouth hung open pretty uselessly. Though he'd never admit it aloud, he bemoaned the fact that McBride wasn't there. It was so much easier to look a giant alien in the eye and tell them to fuck off when there were two of them. 

Shami rested her head on her crossed arms, tilting it to one side as she studied him. 

Christ, does she even blink? 

Daksh yelped as she lifted a hand and brought it towards him, clawed index finger extended out. He stared, dread rippling through his body and making his knees wobble, as it landed on his chest and poked him. Thankfully, the railing was already flush against his back, or he would have stumbled back from the force of it. 

"Fuck!" The cursed slipped out of him and it seemed to delight the giant. 

"There we go. Come on, don't be shy!" She purred. "Say hello. What's your name?" 

Her clawed finger moved to lift his chin and force him to look at her. Daksh's breath hitched in his throat as his own dark eyes met hers. He made a note, when and if he ever retold the story, to omit how panicked he sounded when he finally found it in him to speak. Rather, in the retelling, he'd be quick-tongued and suave, with a charming smirk to top the whole thing off. Unfortunately, this wasn't the retelling as Daksh would have it, this was the retelling as it was. 

"Daksh." He forced out with a wavering intonation. He cleared his throat. "My name is Daksh." 

She hummed, contented with his response. She repeated his name, inhaling it like sweet smoke and letting it roll over her tongue, filling the air with it. 

"Daksh." She mused. "I like it." 

"Umm, thanks." He said, daring to glance down at the long, pointed nail that was holding his chin hostage. "Could you - uhh - move that?" 

Shami considered the request and, though she didn’t say anything, Daksh felt her pull the nail away. However, her massive hand still lingered at a proximity that couldn't be considered anything other than a violation of personal space. Shami's head rested on one arm while the other was stretched out towards him. The finger that had already pushed him and threatened him now tapped against the glass of his spacesuit helmet. 

"What's this, Daksh?" She asked. "They don't usually let us bring personal items into Long Term Holding." 

Daksh's heart plummeted as the giant hand pinched the helmet and started to pry it from his grasp. 

"Wait!" He said, doing his best to maintain his hold on it, using all his strength, bracing with his legs, as she used very little, if any, of her own. 

Daksh could feel the helmet slipping from his fingers as she pulled it from him. Eventually, she tugged it from his grasp and the inertia sent him back into the platform railing. 

"Shit!" He said, rubbing the impact point. 

He looked up and felt the blood drain from his body as he watched her hold it up to her eye and examine it. She turned it over in her large, powerful fingers and every move sent his heart into overdrive. 

It she breaks that, I'm fucked. Well, more fucked that I already am. 

"Please," He pleaded and instantly it reminded him of a scrawnier, primary school version of himself, being bullied by the bigger kids during break. He set his feet. "Give it back." 

Shami's glance darted from the helmet to him and his stomach curled under her attention. "Is it important to you?" 

"Yeah, I'd say so." He said, trying and failing to mask the urgency building behind his voice. "Kinda." 

Shami pressed her lips together and hummed again and Daksh couldn't help but feel like she were teasing him. Her eyes squinted and she grinned, flashing her pointed canines. 

"Come get it then." 

Daksh swallowed his thundering heart. "What?" 

Her grin widened and she shrugged with a smug nonchalance. "If it's so important to you, come get it." 

She held the helmet so that it was level with him, but so that he'd have to come off the platform and within a couple of meters of her face in order to do so, neither of these he liked. He stared at the helmet. 

"I mean," He shrugged, wrapping his fists around the railing behind him. "You could just give it back." 

"I could." She replied but made no move to follow through with that. 

They sat there in the tension - neither moving, neither conceding. When it became apparent that the only way he'd get the helmet back would be by playing along with whatever Shami had in mind, he groaned. 

"Ok," He said shakily, his hands loosening on the railing. "But no funny business.” 

Funny business? 

Shami just smiled and it did nothing to reassure him. 

He inched his way off the platform, closer and closer to her face, within proximity of her claws. 

Don't think about it. Just get the helmet. 

The closer he got, the more he could hear and feel her breathing and the further her shadow engulfed him. Once he got to the hand that held his lifeline, he frowned. She'd moved it higher so it was now just out of his reach. 

"Really?" 

"What?" 

"Could you - uh - lower it?" 

"Too high for you?" She said but she lowered the helmet so that, if he fully extended his arms and got up on his tip toes, he could just wrap his fingers around the base of it. With a definitive tug, he pulled it from her grasp and clutched it close to his chest once more, breathing deeply. 

Shami let out a like chuckle, or what Daksh assumed was a chuckle. What if on her planet, that was actually a sign of extreme aggression, or hunger? He watched with apprehension as she rose to full height once more. 

His gaze followed her as she wandered to the corner of the cell, grabbed the back of a metal chair and dragged it over to the table where he remained standing, trapped and frozen. The chair seemed to be the only piece of free standing furniture in the cell - the table and bunk were both bolted to the wall. She sat down in it and leant back. She then raised her legs and crossed one on top of the other on top of the corner of the table. Standing only a few meters away, Daksh couldn't help but stare in horror. 

Then something happened that Daksh did not expect. 

Suddenly, from behind him, Shami's other hand swooped in and wrapped its long fingers around his waist. 

"What - FUCK!” He cried out instinctively as his feet were hitched up from the surface of the table. His stomach lurched with the motion, and he squirmed in Shami's grip, clutching at the fingers wrapped around his middle with one hand and doing his best to maintain his hold on the helmet with the other. The sensation was so foreign - so wrong - that his brain couldn't help but register it as a threat. 

Shami brought him down to sit on her perched knee so that they could look each other in the eye without him having to crane his neck or her having to crouch down. 

This wasn’t an ideal position for Daksh, noting how he could feel every tiny micro-movement of her body beneath his - so small she'd never know she was making them. But he did, and he did his best to put them out of mind. That and the fact that any wrong move by her would lead to his early funeral. Seeing as he'd already told McBride that he'd outlast her, that would be beyond embarrassing. 

Once he was as oriented as he could be in that situation, he looked up her. 

"Can you please not do that?" He said through a tight jaw. 

She crossed her arms and shrugged, feigning ignorance. "Do what?" 

He gestured back down to the table where he'd been standing moments before. 

"That! Don't just grab me without warning!" He said, running his hands through his hair. "Not ok." 

She laughed and he felt it ripple through her whole body which did nothing for his sense of security. "Ok, I'll let you know before I do it next time." 

Daksh frowned. "Not what I meant at all.” 

She dismissed him with a wave of her huge hand. Her eyes closed almost totally in a playful squint as she smiled at him. Up on her knee, totally at her mercy, Daksh couldn't help but feel exposed and vulnerable. 

“Now.” She said. “Let's talk.” 

Daksh swallowed. 

I’m definitely going to die. 

***

Communications Technician Dr Julian Halliday  Age: 26 Log No.: 198 Cycle No.: 192 Year: 2199 Location: Garbage Disposal Deck, Extra-Terrestrial Vessel. 

This is Dr Julian Halliday, logging and reporting on the status of the ITV Europa Vessel and its crew. 

Despite my misgivings, we have successfully tracked and boarded the extra-terrestrial vessel with all crew members suffering relatively minimal injury - 

(- see, halliday? nothing to worry about! -) 

- nari, i'm making a log! - 

We have yet to sight any of the ship's inhabitants. Captain Barnes is currently out of action as a result of the perilous free flight and is recovering in an ITV pressure cell. According to their own assessment, the Captain should be operational in a few hours, but we don’t have any qualified medical personnel with us to confirm that prognosis. That can happen when you barrel head-first into danger without a second's thought. 

(- calm down, halliday, we made it here in one piece, didn’t we? -) 

- calm down? how am I meant to calm down, nari? we just free flew onto an alien spaceship with no idea of what we're doing or what we're up against. we don't know if the ITV's taken damage - but I can almost guarantee that it has. at any given moment, the ship that we're currently on could jump to light speed, and if that happens, we'll never be able to get back. we know for a fact that the species that have malik and mcbride are at least 60ft tall and are heavily armed. oh, and barnes is out, leaving one lieutenant and a comms tech to carry out a fraught rescue operation. did I forget anything? - 

(- yeah, you did. i think i have something stuck in my teeth - maybe from lunch? could you make a log of that too?-) 

- this is serious, nari. we're probably gonna die here, you realise that right? - 

.

(- look, jules. i know, things are pretty intense, but freaking out about how fucked we are isn't helping anyone - not me, not you, not the two techs we're here to help. things are shit, but we'll just have to take it one step at a time until it's a little less shit. if we do that, i think we'll be ok. -) 

- you're not worried? at all? seriously? - 

(- seriously. -) 

. 

 - i don't understand you... How do you- whatever. what should we do first? - 

(- good question. we need to check for any damage on the ITV. once we know, we can figure out what to do next. ok? -) 

. 

. 

. 

- ok. - 

(- so stop the log and come give me a hand. -) 

. 

- ok. - 

This is Dr Julian Halliday. Log 198. Signing off. 

***

They'd spent about an hour doing checks and repairs. Jules couldn't believe they were wasting that much time but, in a rare display of patience, Nari insisted they make sure no critical damage had been done and that any necessary repairs were noted and made before they had to escape with the Enceladus crew. 

She now stood beside him and dusted off her hands on her uniform, staring back up at the ship. 

"No major damage." She said. "Not bad, if I do say so myself." 

"I don’t think I'll ever recover from free flight." Jules said, looking at the ITV, parked in the alien garbage disposal bay. "I don't know if the ITV will either." 

"Hey!" Nari snapped. "You try navigating your ship up the waste disposal shoot of a bigger ship. It's rough." She paused, biting her bottom lip and shaking her head. "That sounds really bad, said out loud." 

Jules frowned at her and reluctantly laughed when he met her eye. 

"Hopeless." 

Nari shrugged, "Won't argue with you there." 

She scanned up and down the ship and nodded. 

"It'll need a few repairs, but nothing critical." She nudged Jules with her elbow. "Not as bad as you thought, aye, Halliday?" 

"Touch wood." He replied. "What about Barnes?" 

"Captain's still out of commission. Free flight can really take it out on older folks. Barnes has done better than most, but won't be on their feet for a bit. Hopefully sooner than later." She exhaled deeply through her nose. "I've left them with the list of repairs, so they can start on them when they wake up. Meanwhile," She clapped Jules on his shoulder. "Looks like you're with me, Halliday." 

Halliday was about to protest, she could tell immediately from his panicked eyes and high-pitched voice, but she cut him off with a raised hand before he could spiral too much. She put both hands on his shoulders and turned him to face her. Gripping him steadily, she did her best to centre and ground him. 

"Look, Jules, I know this is a lot to process." She said. "But I need someone to watch my six. Barnes is out and I'm not exactly spoiled for choice here. You just need to follow my lead and, I promise, you'll be fine." 

She ignored the tickling of doubt at the back of her mind and released Halliday. Chewing the inside of her cheek, she frowned. 

"Ok," She said after a moment's silence, more to herself than him. "We're going to go arm up, and then we'll set out. I want to scope out where we are on the ship, get a look at these aliens, and see if we can get a read on where the techs are being kept. After the scout, we can come up with a rescue plan." 

Jules was pale. 

"I'm not trained for any of this." He said softly, blank-faced and dazed. 

"If it makes you feel any better, Jules." Nari said, looking around at the giant room they were in, hands firmly on her hips. "I wasn't exactly trained for this either." 

With a short nod and a set jaw, she began walking back towards the ITV entrance. From behind her, she heard Jules balk which made her smile through the uncertainty. 

"Why would that make me feel better?" 

*** 

Rationally, Daksh knew that if Shami really wanted to hurt him, she would have done it already. At least, that's what she'd told him, and Daksh had believed her - truly a sucker for a pretty face (even if that face was almost as tall as he was, was purple, had horns, and belonged to a criminal.) 

Then again, technically I'm a criminal. My parents would be so proud. 

"No one's ever met a human before, and now there's one in my cell, sitting on my knee." She said, shaking her head in disbelief before fixing him with an impish stare. "Do you know what the Drun call your planet, Daksh?" 

Daksh frowned. It was an odd question. Immediately, the thought that 'Earth' wasn't the universal name for their little blue planet was strange. Of course, logically that made sense, 'Earth' wasn't even the name used by all its inhabitants, but it was the privilege of the residents to call their home whatever they liked. The idea that strangers looking in had their own name for it felt wrong to him - like they didn’t have the right. Then again, he couldn’t imagine the inhabitants of any of the exoplanets humans had 'discovered' would be too fond of the names they'd been christened with. 47 Ursae Majoris b, wasn't exactly catchy. 

"What?" He said, drawing it out. 

"Tukni." She answered. 

Daksh glanced around and shrugged. "You say that like it means something." He paused and frowned before looking at her. "Does it mean something?" 

"Yes," She grinned. "But you won't like it." 

"Wouldn't be the first thing today." 

She laughed again, a long rich sound that bounced around the cell. "Bad day?" 

"Not a favourite." 

She hummed and nodded. "A Tuk is a small rodent on the Drun's home planet. It’s very loud for its size and quite ugly."

"Oh." Daksh's voice was flat. "Charming." 

The look Shami gave him made his cheeks flush. 

"Earth is very loud." She explained. "It is always broadcasting, sending out messages - shouting into the void and waiting for the echo. The Drun find it very annoying. 'Tukni' means 'of Tuks'. They don't like you very much." 

"Well, I can't say I'm a fan of them either." Daksh grumbled. "But it's not like we've done anything to them. Why do they hate us so much?" 

For the first time since the Drun had entered the cell, Shami's face darkened and grew sombre. And while it was a terrifying sight in and of itself, Daksh knew it wasn't directed at him and so, strangely, he felt vindicated. Finally, there was someone else who hated the Drun as much as he and McBride. 

"The Drun are tyrants." She said. "They control everything in the sector - they monitor all communication, all interaction between systems, transport and trade, everything. The systems that are advanced enough to be a threat are kept under constant surveillance. You humans have walked that line for a while. You're not advanced enough to leave your own system, you don't know anything, and you're definitely not a threat to the power of the Drun. But you just keep broadcasting and that's dangerous. Most of the time, we don't understand what you are trying to say, but it's like a beacon of hope for the rest of us under Drun control." 

"Really?" 

Shami nodded, almost nostalgically. 

"Yes. Really. Unaware of the danger, not knowing what was out there or who was listening, there was this little planet, surrounded by tyranny and oppression, out on a wayward spur. It kept sending out messages, and pictures, and music, reminding us of love and freedom and curiosity. Somewhere there was life uninhibited." Her face fell again, and her eyes glazed, drawing back in on herself. "You will never know what lengths some went to just to send something back… or what it cost." 

"We never got anything back." Daksh said, his brain feeling numb. "If our broadcasting was such an issue for the Drun, why didn't they just shut us up? Gag order, that kind of thing?" 

Shami shrugged. "I don't know. I'm sure the Drun have their reasoning for keeping their distance from your kind. Though," She said before shaking herself out of the mood she'd created. Once again, the sly, playful grin returned, leaving Daksh to recover from the jarring mood shift. She brought a large finger to rest on his head and ruffled his long hair. "That seems to have changed with you, Tuk." 

"Ok, that name better not stick." Daksh said, fixing his hair with mixed results. Shami hummed. "Really? I think it suits you." 

They sat in silence for a bit before Daksh worked up the courage to ask something that had been plaguing him since they first encountered the Drun. 

"How are you speaking English, Shami?" 

Shami tapped the side of her neck. 

"It's the chip. There are far too many systems in Drun territory - thousands and thousands of native tongues. They realised fairly quickly that that makes it difficult to maintain control. So, they developed a database of all known languages in the sector and, using the chips, the Drun can upload any language they want into your brain. Everyone with the chip can speak Drunan, or, more importantly, everyone with the chip can understand Drunan." 

"So, it is a babel fish!" 

"What?" 

"Nothing! So, you got English? Why?" 

"I 'got English' because I was getting a new cellmate. Lucky me.” Shami paused for a moment, as if caught by a sudden idea. “It is a bit odd. Usually they limit access to Drunan only so that, if you want to speak to other prisoners, you have to speak a language the guards can also understand. It prevents any kind of organising. The prison population here is so diverse, that almost no one speaks the same native tongue anyway.” 

Daksh frowned. His hand went to the chip on his neck or, more accurately, the swollen bump where his skin had forcibly grown over it - red, and painful, and irritated. He winced, and the memories of Dr Mei pressing a gigantic pair of tweezers to his neck flashed through his mind. 

He tried searching his brain for any traces of a language he didn’t know, but it proved a challenge. Apparently, it's hard to look for knowledge in your head that shouldn't be there. 

"I don’t think anything's changed with me." He said when the search came up empty. "I don't think I can speak… What was it? Drunish?" 

“Drunan.” Shami corrected. “Well, that would explain why they gave me our language. Yours is a pretty small brain, Tuk. It might not be able to take the upload." 

Daksh crossed his arms. ”I have two PhDs, Shami." 

"That doesn't mean anything to me." 

"It means… I'm smart, ok?" Daksh said, feeling a bit like a dork. "I'm pretty sure my brain could take the Drun DLC download. I'm an expert." 

Shami cocked an eyebrow. ”What are you an expert in?" 

Daksh began listing on his fingers, feeling just a bit smug. ”Microbiology, Astrobio-." 

“-Microbiology?” Shami interrupted. “What’s that?” 

“Oh right, it’s the study of tiny organisms." 

Shami’s eyes glinted. ”You would be an expert on that." 

"Moving on!” Daksh grumbled. 

"Is that what you were doing on your moon?” She asked. “Researching?" 

Daksh was quiet. Suddenly embarrassed, he nodded. 

“What were you researching?” 

Daksh stared the alien in the face as they shared a cell on a ship full of aliens. 

"Well, it's going to sound stupid now." 

"Come on, tell me!” 

Daksh signed and ran a hand through his long hair. He rested his elbow on the helmet is his lap and his chin in his hand. ”I was looking for signs of life beyond Earth." 

Shami made a face he didn’t enjoy and pressed a hand to her chest. 

”Oh, that is so sweet." 

"Ignoring that.” He groaned, eager to redirect conversation towards something where he wasn’t the punchline. “Anyway, why did they chip me if they weren't going to give me the Duo Lingo cheat code?" 

"I don’t know what that means, but I wouldn’t be so eager for it if I were you.” Shami warned, her tone growing an edge that hadn’t been there before. “Using the chip, the Drun can give you access to any language, yes, but they can also take it away. They have a direct line to your brain now. Think about that." 

Daksh swallowed. He felt a twirling, writhing sensation grow in his gut, and bile build in his throat. He stared up at Shami, her expression downcast. 

“Did that happen to you?” 

She took a long breath. "I don't remember my own tongue anymore. I wouldn’t recognise it if I heard it. I couldn’t speak it if I tried. My name had meaning once but the Drun took that from me a long time ago. I feel like I’m wearing someone else's skin." 

Daksh felt a sudden cold clamminess wash over him. His mouth hung open in a way he was aware of but couldn’t seem to correct. What would it be like to no longer be able to remember your own language? How would it feel to not only have to speak but think in the language of your oppressors? He couldn’t fathom it. As he thought, the bump on his neck throbbed angrily. He did his best (and failed) to ignore it. 

Suddenly, he felt like humans were better off being left in the dark. 

”Why'd they take it away?" 

Shami ignored the question and his gaze. 

"They can track you with the chip, you know. That's probably why you have it.” She said, then she forced a smile that almost convinced him. “You’d be fairly easy to miss - so small they need a computer watching your every movement.” 

Daksh groaned, deciding that if the giant alien criminal didn’t want to discuss the details of her punishment, it would be unwise to attempt to push it. He still remembered what the Drun had said about the last person to share her cell. Best not push his luck. 

”Ok, Shami.” He said. “You've had your fun. You know, back on Earth, I'm actually above average height." 

Shami hummed. “That’s funny, Tuk." 

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(My space idiots are back! Daksh made a new friend that makes him uncomfortable, Jules and Nari are way out of their depth, and McBride is nowhere to be seen. As always, let me know what you think! - ray xx)

Part 8 coming soon!

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I SUBMITTED MY THESIS! IT’S DONE. I’M DONE. I’VE FINISHED UNI!

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Wind whipped in all directions with a bitter chill, nipping at each and every one of Clarence's extremities with a vicious and cruel bite; even worming it's way through his thick, warm coat and unto his body, sending shivers up and down every inch of his form. His boots, heavy things made to endure, sank deep into snow as he trudged forward, pushing against the harsh cold; determined to carry on along his journey. Up ahead was nothing but a white expanse, a featureless blank canvas interrupted only by a few grey rocks jutting up like the skeletal remains of giants who'd fallen to their demise in the cruel arctic wastes. He pulled his arms in round himself and hid his face in his coats collar, eyes screwed shut, frost forming on the tip of his nose and the ends of his eyelashes; teeth chattering, lips sticking together....how long had he been there, struggling against natures wrath, searching for what he'd come for- the northwest passage, it had to be out there, it had to be; and he would be the man to find it, if only he could hold out for just a little......

"Clarence? What are you doing out here?" A voice from the heavens boomed and Clarence locked up, coming to a halt as he stood there in the snow, just outside the back doorstep. He turned, brushing himself down with an embarrassed cough, and craned his neck back to see a very familiar pair of legs beside him; though he couldn't quite see much else, not with how gargantuan people seemed to him when he stood at ground level, and for once he was somewhat glad he couldn't see the puzzled look he was no doubt being give.

"O-oh hello Elias, i was just...." Clarence trailed off, glancing around. Should he tell him he'd been playing pretend out in the garden? Imagining he was a great, heroic explorer? Hm. No, that felt rather embarrassing.

"Just taking a walk my dear!" Clarence smiled, staggering back as the air around him thundered with movement; Elias was merely kneeling down, but it felt like the earth itself had come to life before him, the sheer scale of the man he loved so dearly just....far too much to easily comprehend.

"Well, it's getting real cold; you wanna come inside now or stay for a bit longer?" Elias asked, a huge hand slowly sneaking out from where it'd been tucked in his pocket and being offered to Clarence, palm outstretched...warm.....inviting. He can feel the body heat thaw the frost off his ceramic skin.....

Perhaps his moments frivolity would be better continued indoors; maybe the great explorer Henry Clarence Fairwater could find himself somewhere warmer, perhaps accompanied by a nice hot chocolate or other soothing beverage....

"Yes, thank you, i think i would rather like to come in now." Clarence nods, placing his hands against Elias's palm and heaving himself up onto the plush surface, barely even flinching as it tilts to better hold him and lifts him up high; so he may be cradled gently against Elias's chest. In mere seconds the harsh arctic landscape of the back garden is replaced by the overwhelmingly pleasant warmth of the house, and Clarence curls up with a smile on his face in Elias's hold. He may not be some grand explorer, but he has found something that means more than anything else....

"You know, next time you wanna play out in the garden you should let me join you; i'm sure i'd make a pretty good captain's mate!" Elias chuckles as he settles down in front of the fireplace in his favourite armchair, letting Clarence lounge against him.

Clarence has never felt more embarrassed in his life.

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found this and i think it’s the perfect character meme

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I’ve been Going Through It™ today, but on the upside, it did get me writing.  It’s still short and a bit rough, but that’s just how I play the game, I think.

Anyway, this story does happen to be based on the fact that I have a bit of a problem with anxious skin-picking myself, and in the case I’ve applied that to, it gets a good deal squishier, so I’ll preemptively warn for some blood and gore.  *cracks knuckles* here goes nothing:

“SEAM RIPPER”

Keep reading

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i hope my mutuals know that every time they leave me nice tags or a kind ask i am personally handing them warm cinnamon muffins and hot chocolate and patting them on the head. you all mean very much to me and i wish you well

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She’s Kinda Forward

A/N: I had plans for today. Gwen said no ahdjkdjks. Anyways au with borrower!Gwen meeting human Vivian. Just a lil snippet :)

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It had been a great plan, a marvelous plan, hell maybe even the best plan Gwen had thought of in months…if she had simply not gone through with it at all.

“I–you–this–” She was a stuttering mess, sitting with her hands behind her back. Her bent knees knocked together as she shook, eyes trembling as she frantically glanced around. Gwen couldn’t bring herself to look up, scared shitless of the large brown eyes staring down at her. This was a bad move, a terrible move, an insanely stupid move–

Gwen had determined she was going to die. Six feet under and destined to meet her maker because of her own idiotic self. She was finished as a borrower, flinching when a shadow fell over her. How is it even possible to be this large? What’s the use of it but to scare the living daylights out of me? How she ever thought climbing up onto the table the human was sitting at was a good idea, she’d never know.

But why on earth had she taken it a step further and tried to talk to her?

Pretty. It was the first thing Gwen had thought about the girl, breathless in awe. A soft summer breeze blew her long black hair in the wind, and she seemed to dazzle under the summer sun. The borrower had never felt this before, clenching her chest as though she was in pain, gripping the bark of the tree to steady herself. She let out a hot, trembling breath, heart thumping a thousand miles a minute.

“Why must my heart always choose things that’ll ruin me?” 

Keep reading

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Did Charlie ever meet Avery in person?

yes! it didn't go too well at first though.

anon i'm really glad you asked this bc i have not developed Charlie at all so i'm glad i have a chance to do so now!

for those of you who don’t know them - Charlie is V’s borrower friend (mentioned in a few of the written shorts), who lives in the walls of the apartment next to Avery’s. the times i’ve mentioned them, i’ve used she/her pronouns, but now that i’ve thought about the character more i’m realizing that a non binary identity fits them best. 

aaaand how Charlie’s first time meeting Avery went (this is only like 550 ish words):

“Oh no no no no no, no V, I can’t do this…” 

Charlie was shaking and pale, gripping their friend’s arm tight in fear, flinching at the slightest movement from the figure before them. I knew humans were big, but seeing our size disparity up close? Terrifying. 

Charlie was never particularly scared of humans - sure, they didn’t want to interact with them, but overall their feelings were just distrustful. They were sure of their ability to defend themself, or make a quick escape if need be - when borrowing, Charlie was always collected and level headed. However, actually being face to face with one was a whole different ball game. Charlie felt their confidence quickly fleeing. 

“Um… uh. I’m sorry.” Avery finally spoke, interrupting the frightened borrower’s racing thoughts. Even her soft tone of voice had made the figure jump. Avery’s eyes darted around the room, trying her best to avoid eye contact as she fidgeted with the hem of her sweater. 

“Should I leave now? Yeah, I think I’ll leave now,” she said to no one in particular, then slowly backed up and headed for the bedroom. She flashed V a quick I’m sorry glance - she knew how important this was to V, and she hated to see her girlfriend disappointed.

Shit. This was definitely a disaster, V thought to herself as she heard the bedroom door softly click shut. 

“It’s okay!! She’s going to the other room now. She’s not going to hurt you, I promise!”

Charlie let out a shaky breath, feeling like a weight had been lifted off of their shoulders. “I trust you, V, but no offense… I don’t always trust your judgement.” 

V could hardly be mad about that. I have made some really really dumb decisions before… but! This is different! This is Avery, she isn’t a threat! 

“What can I do to make you trust her?”

“...I’m sorry V. I’m...not really sure.”

---

I get it. Of course I’m not pleased, but I get it. 

Avery hardly ever thought about how she could be perceived as frightening. Most of her size-related concerns surrounding V were about accidentally injuring her - it had been so long since she last worried about being scary to V. They’d been dating for a while now, and both women were pretty desensitized to their size difference. 

The look in the little borrower’s eyes was so upsetting to Avery - they looked shaken to their core. She wanted nothing more than to reach out and scoop them up and reassure them that she wasn’t a threat, but she knew that would only be more distressing to the borrower.

Avery put her head in her hands and let out a sigh. Though, I guess if I were them, I’d be pretty frightened too. She was sitting on the edge of her bed, her eyes focused on the ajar bedroom door. V and I did not think this through…I hope she’s able to calm Charlie down. 

Before Avery’s thoughts were able to spiral again, she heard a soft knock at the door. V was standing in the crack of the door, with her friend cowering behind her. The small being took a deep breath, then stepped forward.

“...Hi Avery. I’m… sorry… for my reaction. Could we start over?” 

Avery gave them a soft smile. “Don’t be sorry, I get it. And of course!”

---

check out the V!! and Avery masterpost here !! <3

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Promise?

A/N: I may be in the middle of class but nothing will stop me from uploading this fic.

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The room was wrecked, glass shards littered across the wooden floor. Books were scattered about, papers torn and spines destroyed–barely reminiscent of what they once were. Multiple knives were embedded into the walls, with their pretty handles sparkling under the candlelight. The bed was in tatters, ripped and shredded apart as though a cat had raged war against it. Feathers from destroyed pillows floated listlessly in the air, swaying as Xena took a step into the room. Her eyes landed on the curled up figure in the room, and she felt her stomach drop to the floor.

Clemin was rolled up into a ball, arms wrapped around her knees, and Xena felt her heart break.

Her body was riddled with tremors, eyes squeezed shut to block out the rest of the world. Tears stained her little cheeks and blood painted the palms of her hands. Clemin… Xena couldn’t breathe, didn’t feel like she had a right to–not until she had her princess in her arms. 

“It’s okay. It’s alright love, I’ve got you.” She knew it had been too much, and the knight wished she had checked on Clemin sooner. That twisted smile she’d given me was a mere mask over a sea of despair, and I was foolish to not have noticed. The princess shuddered, holding back a wretched sob as she frantically gripped the floor, refusing to let Xena pull her into her hands.

“Stop it! Xena let me go–!” Clemin gasped as the giant roughly pulled, and she found her grip useless against Xena’s strength. She struggled as arms as large as her own torso wrapped around her, pressing her back against the giant’s chest. The giant ignored the angry command, humming low in her throat as she enveloped Clemin. It was as though the princess had disappeared, visible only if someone stood directly in front of them. No, no I don’t want her here–Clemin heaved, gritting her teeth as more tears fell down her face, eyebrows knitted together.

“No. You’re hurt and bleeding–I’m not letting you go until you’ve calmed down–so breathe Clemin.” Xena’s voice seemed to echo all around the princess now, a calm rumble rolling throughout her entire body. Clemin shook her head, the agony she felt before still eating her up inside. Get away! Leave me alone…I have to be alone. She didn’t want this–to be in such a state with Xena able to witness it all–and she dug her little fingers into the thick flesh encasing her.

Keep reading

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very scratchy looking animation thing i did during my zoom calls today… 

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art stamina currently zero but i do have a new au! insp very much by yeenybeanies’ post and developed with folks in the wrestling discord. in this universe, humans and giants are similar heights all throughout childhood, until their early twenties, when giants hit their final growth spurt. but giants can be born to human parents and humans can be born to giant parents, so it’s a bit of a crapshoot trying to figure out who’s who.

cam and luther go to the same high school together, but luther goes off to a big fancy college on the other side of the country and cam stays home to take care of his folks. when luther comes back for their high school reunion, he’s got a big surprise waiting for him… also it’s a hallmark movie and cam’s gonna teach luther the true meaning of christmas or some shit

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Shaft-Walking

A stand-alone story for Halloween!

This one’s a little different but I wanted to challenge myself. I’m trying to get better at writing short stories. So, here’s one about small-town legend, a group of friends, some abandoned mines, and memory.

Words: 9310

CW: death, mentions of death, violence, injury.

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A NOTE ON MIDDLEBROOK 

Middlebrook was a small town that could only really be identified by its relative location to other, larger towns nearby - though ‘nearby’ really meant over an hour’s drive away. It was littered with quiet, suburban neighbourhoods, cul-de-sacs, and roads that council never had the budget to repair. Middlebrook was old, built on the bones of a long dead mining town, clinging to the remains of the decommissioned mines. However, unlike most towns of its age and purpose, when the work stopped, it wasn’t abandoned to time - families replaced the miners, a school replaced the brothel, there was a general store where the old hotel used to be. Old scars of what Middlebrook was could be found here and there, lingering like ghosts, but for the most part, the town was nothing more than one amongst countless others. 

People didn’t leave Middlebrook and it was unclear why. It was a running joke among the locals that you might as well buy a cradle and a coffin at the same time - your life was mapped out for you. And perhaps that was macabre, but it wasn’t too far from true. 

In the middle of town, flooding into it like a wilful tide, were the Middlebrook Woods. They had an official name listed somewhere by someone, but no one ever used it and soon it was forgotten. The woods acted as a barrier between the town and the old mine, a thick wall of foliage to help the townsfolk forget it was even there at all. And wrapping around the woods on the town-side was the Strip. A wide street of small stores, a couple of eateries, and the local council chambers, it was the main artery of the town, connecting Southside Middlebrook to Northside. 

There was a faster connection though. 

If the Strip was an artery, then pulsing like the faintest capillary was the Path. The dirt trail carved its way through the woods from Southside to Northside and was about as old as the town itself, unsealed and winding. Formally, the Path was Merewether Lane, but it’d only been Merewether Lane for about 20 years. When Old Man Merewether passed away, his estate donated all the abandoned mines and the surrounding woods to council - more of a burden than a gift if you asked around but the mayor accepted the donation nonetheless and named the Path after him in thanks. There was even a small ceremony and a nice little sign commissioned to commemorate it. 

Before it was Merewether Lane, it was the Old Dust Path, and before that it was Dustman’s Walk. It once served as the only route from the mines back into town. Every day, when the workers would clock off, it’s said that all the dust and dirt from the mines would shake off their clothes and onto the trail, and so it was christened Dustman’s Walk as a result. 

For the living locals though, it was and always would be the Old Dust Path. 

To stop kids from going to the mines and getting hurt, the mayor ordered the section of the Path that led up that way be planted out and a new path through to Southside be marked out. Some folk avoided it at all costs - old things have that effect on some types - but many felt that, if you’re walking, it’s a good way to get from Northside to Southside without having to go around the woods. Some liked to get high there, some called it a nature trail and walked their dogs on it in the mornings, but no one used it after dark. 

Even the most rational voices of the community would opt to take the longer route on the Strip than take the Path when the moon was up, though those same voices would insist it was nothing more than a trail through the woods. 

That was Middlebrook. A little old, a little young. Outwardly pragmatic, and quietly superstitious. A school, a strip, and a path through the woods that used to lead to the mines. 

 *** 

Laurie: 

‘If you’re ever in danger, or you think someone’s following you, you give that whistle the hardest blow you can, you got that? If someone’s trying to get you, you blow and you run. Do you understand?’ 

Laurie blew. 

She blew as hard as she could as her breath grew shallower and shallower. In a panic her head flew from side to side, hoping- pleading- that someone would see her. But in the clouded, munted haze of evening, she saw only shadows on the trees as she ran, her sneakers pounding against the dirt path. Behind her, the rabid cracking of branches and menacing growl from high above told her that the distance between them was closing fast. 

He- it- whatever- was coming. 

And the closer it got the more she blew, and the more she blew the less she thought she’d be heard. 

Why had they taken the Old Dust Path? No one takes the Path after dark. Why’d she let Joy talk her into it? 

Joy. 

Laurie didn’t even want to think about where the other girl might be. All she had to think about was running. 

“Blow and you run. Blow and you run.” She thought to herself, trying not to swallow her own heart in the process. 

There was only a bit further until she would be out of the woods and on the Strip. Maybe then she could run to Larry’s diner, it’s always open late. Larry would help her. Larry would know what to do. If she could just make it to the Strip. 

There was the loud thud of a foot colliding with earth right behind her and, even in the dark, she could feel the enormous shadow of a nightmare fall over her, blocking out the remaining traces of the moon. 

Laurie blew with everything she had left. 

Why couldn’t anyone hear her? 

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ahhh i’m a day late but here’s the ladies dressed up for halloween !!

check out the V!! and Avery masterpost here !! <3