#&&. Like maybe she gave him one of her scarabs like she did with Claw??

[storybounded]

Gathering screencaps for icons and I just... Not me and @starsweepers sad that they didn't talk to each other once, especially in this scene in the second movie where they sat right next to each other but did not say a word 😑😞

[farmverse]

andif i posted writing. what th

cw; adult discussing his own hypersexuality and as a teenager, mentions of teen pregnancy

“My history is… complicated,” he says lamely. His new jeans are still stiff. He hasn’t properly worn in his boots yet. His only options with his jacket are to keep it on or hold it in his lap, and his prosthetic makes taking it off and putting it back on easier said than done anyway, but it’s uncomfortably warm in the uncomfortably quiet room.

“What isn’t, these days?” The man sitting across from him reminds him almost of his mother. His laminated nametag reads Dr. Marvin Campbell, and his blond hair is starting to thin, covered with a white little hat that Farm forgets the name of. “With that Scarab guy showing up and attacking the city, I mean. Since then, nothing has been the same.”

Farm examines his fingernails. Over the years, he’s mastered the art of biting them cleanly and evenly, since he can’t hold a set of clippers with the claw of his prosthesis. “My complications go back further than that, I’m afraid. I’m… like that Scarab guy, in a way.”

“That’s right — you and your family came from another timeline…” Dr. Campbell’s fingers move lightning-quick over his exceedingly loud keyboard. Maybe the horrible sound is supposed to help him type faster. “Your original world had magic, didn’t it?”

“Not always.” Farm’s kids aren’t here, so he doesn’t bother censoring himself. “I didn’t fuck with it. Tried to stay as far away as I could. At first, I just didn’t believe in it, but…”

Boy, that old fartbag sure proved you wrong, huh!

Technically, the so-called “Vampire Queen” hadn’t done much. That had been Finn.

Farm.

The crown.

And me!

Farm flexes his left hand forcefully, then shakes it out in an attempt to banish his nerves. It sort of works. Almost.

“…It did some shit to me that I’ve… just had to learn to deal with. And I didn’t always do the best or smartest thing. I-I know that. But I’ve… I’ve done my best. Tried to give my kids a safe childhood. Keep them clothed and fed and happy.”

“And that’s commendable. You should be proud of that, Farm.”

He wants to believe it, but it feels empty.

“…But I’ve also done some things I’m not proud of.” He sighs heavily. “When I was a teenager, I put on a magic crown that granted me ice powers and fractured my psyche. I… hurt a lot of people. My own family included. And, afterwards, I made some particularly bad choices.” He shifts. “I think I felt like… I had ruined the morale of the people around me. So I had to boost it, somehow. And, one thing led to another…”

“What do you mean by that?”

“…Please don’t make me say it.”

“I just want to make sure we’re on the same page, here.”

Farm meets Dr. Campbell’s gaze, at once both reluctant and deliberate. “I told people to use me however they wanted. And they did. And I-” (Fuck, why is his throat choking?)

Dr. Campbell is so fucking patient. The look he’s giving Farm now is the same look Minerva Mertens gave him when he first tried to tell her at sixteen that she was going to be a grandmother. But he’d thrown up and stumbled out, and she had never known.

Deep breath. Slow down. Cool off. You got this.

When he tries to speak again, he manages to keep his voice level. “…I gave birth to my first son when I was seventeen. I still don’t know who his other parent is.”

There’s a brief pause before the next question. “How old is he now?”

The question nearly makes him flinch. Its silly, really. But he answers anyway, because to hide away from it would just be pathetic. “He’s almost fourteen. Does great in school, polite, good-hearted — he’s the reason we moved here, honestly. If he and Dez hadn’t snuck out, we’d probably all still be in Farmworld.”

“Farmworld?”

Farm blushes a little. “Uh, my original timeline.” He rubs the back of his neck, idly tucking his light hair back under his cap. “Fionna came up with the name, and it stuck.”

Dr. Campbell laughs. There’s a moment of recognition, like he’s just speaking with a friend’s father, before the veneer of professionalism goes back up over the conversation.

[us2dinosaurplanet]

The Stay on Dinosaur Planet: Chapter 1-Shabunga’s Surprise

After successfully defeating the evil Andross for the last time, Fox and Pikachu landed back in Thorntail Hollow. Tricky: “Fox, Fox!” Fox: “Tricky?”

Fox and Pikachu watched as Tricky ran towards them in an energetic way. Tricky: “Fox, you won’t believe this: Bubbles and Misty flew in this blue fox that looked almost like you.” Fox: “They did? Where are they, Tricky?” Tricky: “Follow me.”

Fox followed Tricky into the chamber where the Queen Earthwalker was held. There they found a crowd of dinosaurs blocking their way towards Bubbles, Misty, the King and Queen Earthwalker, and Krystal. Krystal was lying on the floor. When one of the dinosaurs spotted Fox and the prince, it told the others to move out of the way for the two of them so they could move up towards the girls and the king and queen. Bubbles: “Fox, we’re so glad to see you. Poor Krystal almost didn’t make it. Luckily, we were able to receive help from the King and Queen Earthwalker.” Fox: “Great, how did it go?” Misty: “Not so good, I’m afraid the king and queen’s help just wasn’t enough. She’s still in bad shape. Those Krazoa Spirits did her in good.” Fox: “Will she be OK?” Misty: “Of course. With some rest and plenty of food, she’ll be recovered in no time.” Fox: “OK, then.” Misty: “However, until she recovers to her normal health, we’ll have to remain on Dinosaur Planet.” Fox: “For how long?” Misty: “I’d say…for a couple of days should help her.” Bubbles: “That’s longer than I thought we would stay here for.” Misty: “We should make the best of it and watch over her until she recovers.” King Earthwalker: “Nonsense, after the way you guys saved our planet, you deserve a lot more than this.” Fox: “Yeah, I know, but Misty’s right, I mean, if we’re not going to watch over her then who will?” Voice: “I will.” Fox: “Huh?”

Fox and the others watched as a Cloudrunner came out of the crowd. Cloudrunner: “I’ll stay and watch over Krystal. I’ve known her since the day she first landed on this planet.” Misty: “OK, then. While the Cloudrunner watches over Krystal, we’ll head to Cape Claw and meet the others there. We’ve received a message that they’re there, right now.” Fox: “Then let’s get going.” Misty: “All right, thanks for volunteering to watch over Krystal, noble Cloudrunner. If anything happens to her, just let us know.”

So, Fox, Misty, Bubbles and Tricky headed straight for Cape Claw.

When they arrived, they saw Princess Peach, Rayman, and Banjo. However, Kazooie was nowhere in sight. This was excellent news to Fox. After that, Fox and Misty set up their lounge chairs, took out their sunglasses and lounged on the chairs. (Adeleine painted the chairs out. Yes, Adeleine’s back and boy, was she happy to be painting for her friends again.) Later, General Pepper’s hologram popped up and congratulated Fox and his friends for saving the Lylat System again. Then Fox and Misty did something that reminded Peach of a little deal she made with the Thorntail storekeeper, Shabunga, after Fox bought the Snowhorn artifact. Therefore, she left the beach and headed straight for Thorntail Hollow.

After Peach returned, the storekeeper, Shabunga, appeared out of nowhere behind Fox and Misty’s lounge chairs. Fox: “What the…? The Thorntail storekeeper? What are you doing here?” Shabunga: “I’ve got a little surprise for you and your red-headed friend, but first, I’m going to need to take some pictures.”

Then, he grabbed the scarab he had always worn around his neck, which he used to roll out into a 3-digit #, and somehow rolled it out into a camera. Shabunga: “You, with the ears.” Fox: “Who? Me?” Shabunga: “Yes, you, I need you to stand over there.” Fox: “Um, OK.”

He got up from his lounge chair, took off his sunglasses and walked not too far from where he was. Fox: “Here?” Shabunga: “Yes, there.”

Fox folded his arms. Fox: “So now, what?” Shabunga: “Stay right there, just like that. That’s perfect.”

He then held his camera up. Shabunga: “Now, smile and say “scarab”.”

Then he snapped shot and looked at a projector on the back of the camera to see if she got what he wanted. Shabunga: “Hm, good, you may sit down, now.”

Fox returned to his lounge chair. Shabunga: “You, with the headband.” Misty:” Who? Me?” Shabunga:” Yes, you, now I need you to stand over there.” Misty: “Um, alright.”

She got up from her lounge chair, took off her sunglasses and walked to the same spot that Fox was asked to stand. As she stopped, she put one arm behind her back and grabbed on to her other arm. Misty: “Here?” Shabunga:” Yes, there, perfect, just the way I wanted it to be.”

He held up his camera again. Shabunga: “Now, smile and say “scarabs”.”

Then he snapped shot and looked at the projector on the back of the camera. Shabunga: “Yessssss, perfect, you may sit down.”

Misty returned to her lounge chair. Shabunga: “Now, then, I’ll be right back. Don’t you go anywhere, you 2.”

Then he was gone.

Fox and Misty looked at each other and then back at where Shabunga once stood, er, floated. (I forgot that Shabunga has no legs, just a tail.) Then he reappeared with two lovely lockets: one with a picture of Fox in it, the other with a picture of Misty. He brought the lockets closer to the both of them. Shabunga: “Here you go, I hope you like them.” Fox: “Wow! What a great surprise. Self-portraits! Thank you.”

Fox was about to grab the locket with his picture in it but Shabunga quickly pulled it away from him. Shabunga: “Don’t touch this; it isn’t for you.”

He held the picture of Fox in front of Misty. Shabunga: “This is for her.”

She grabbed the picture, he then held the other picture in front of Fox. Shabunga: “THIS is for you.”

Fox took the locket that Shabunga wanted him to take. Fox: “Gee, thanks but, um…” Shabunga: “What’s wrong, don’t you like it?” Fox: “Yeah, I like it but you just gave me a picture of Misty.” Misty: “Yeah, you gave me a picture of Fox. Don’t you think you have us totally mixed-up?” Shabunga: “Of course, not. I gave you 2 a picture of each other for a good reason; these portraits contain a picture of your loved ones.”

Misty became speechless but Fox was not satisfied. Fox: “Wait a minute, now you’re saying that we’re in love with each other?” Shabunga: “What? Don’t you get all nasty on me! I only gave you the lockets. I could always take yours back if you changed your mind about it.” Fox: “Who told you to give us these lockets? Princess Peach?” Shabunga: “Was that the name of that Blondie who asked me to make you these lockets?”

Fox was angry. Peach’s mind: “Darn it, I thought by giving him those lockets would help Fox realize his true feelings about Misty. I guess I underestimated him.”

Fox got up from his lounge chair and stood in front of Peach. Fox: “So, this is your next attempt; asking the storekeeper to create gifts that does all of your bragging for you, huh?” Peach: “Well, it was worth a try.” Fox: “Well, congratulations, you’ve failed.” Peach: “I …had a feeling you were going to say something like that.” Fox: “Yeah, I know. Come on, Peach, this isn’t funny.” Peach: “It’s wasn’t suppose to be funny, I’m just trying to tell you the truth. Please! You have to listen!” Fox: “I had it, Peach. You’ve changed too much since the day we couldn’t see each other anymore. First you’ve gone from caring to over protected and then from over protected to just plain ridiculous!!! Enough is enough!”

Fox turned his back on Peach and walked away. He then dropped his locket on the floor as he continued walking to the far side of the beach. Peach: “But, Fox, you must understand…” Fox: “Save it!”

Peach bowed her head in great sorrow. Shabunga: “That’s just great; I wasted my time and energy over making gifts for 2 couples who aren’t in love with each other.” Peach: “They ARE in love with each other; Fox is just too stubborn to see that.” Shabunga: “Oh, I see, well, maybe I should take back his locket since…” Peach: “No, leave it; I want him to pick it up after he gets back.”

Shabunga nodded and disappeared. Tricky: “So, what is Fox doing over there, Bubbles?” Bubbles: “Oh, Fox just wants to be alone whenever he gets angry. But, don’t worry, he’ll pull through.” Tricky: “How long is he going to stand over there?” Bubbles:” Don’t know. It depends on how angry he is. If we’re lucky, he’ll be standing there for a few hours.”

         Later that night, Fox is still standing on the other side of the beach. Just after he looked back at his friends, who are sleeping, he turned around and walked back. He stopped in front of his locket that he tossed on the ground earlier to pick it up and returned to his lounge chair. He looked towards Misty and at the picture of Misty in his locket. Fox’s mind: “Can it be true?”

Then he closed his eyes for the night.

[rallis-fatalis]

The Prelude to Pandemic

In an attempt to introduce Peg to the life of an adventurer, Adam forces Peg along on a mission well suited to her expertise alongside her first time companion the bouncy cheerful blue dragon of the Legends' Guild, Rallis Fatalis. What starts off as an innocent enough stealth mission with her new scaly friend quickly turns into a matter of life and death, and not just for themselves. There's a monster waiting to be set free, one that could wipe out every last speck of life on the planet, and it's up to a child and a defective dragon to stop it. What could possibly go wrong?

It was a lovely sunny day, warm rays of sunlight breaking through the foggy cold atmosphere of even barren freezing Witchhaven. Rallis was sprawled out on a boulder near the eastern entrance of east Ardougne and nearing the border of northern Witchhaven. The sun felt so nice she couldn't help but lay on the warm rock and soak up the rays while she waited for Adam to join her. He said they had been assigned a job to do and that he would meet her at the entrance of the Legends' Guild to discuss and prepare. Her comfy warm perch might not exactly be at the entrance of the guild, but it was close enough. He could find her if he tried.

The sun grew warmer and warmer, lulling the dragon to sleep. As she was about to take a snooze on the boulder, she heard footsteps crunching through the grass. Rallis yawned and stretched on the rock. "Mmm, took you long enough. What are we doing?" She didn't get a response. She turned around to see not a jolly green giant, but rather a small shy girl dressed in all black, hooded cloak trying to shadow her face. She was nervously clutching a paper as she eyed Rallis warily. "You're not Adam," Rallis mumbled groggily. "Can I help you?"

The girl looked down at the paper and then back at the dragon. "Are you Rallis?" she asked.

"Yep, that's me," she said as she slipped off the boulder. "Who wants to know?"

The girl didn't really know what to do so she just handed her the paper. Rallis took it and looked it over. It was mission paperwork, Adam usually handled it because Rallis couldn't be asked, and sure enough his signature was on the bottom of the sheet. "Where'd you get this?" she asked the girl.

"From Adam," she replied quietly. "I'm going with you, not him."

"Are you now?" She was very confused by all this. The signature didn't look forged but Rallis still didn't like how different this all was. "How do you know him?"

"I uh... met him in the desert," she said. "Treasure hunting. We found something together and... yeah. He's been trying to get me to go on one of these for a while."

"He didn't want to come?" Rallis questioned.

The girl nodded her head. "It's a thievery job. He got all pissy about it, saying it was wrong or whatever. I'm pretty good at picking locks and being sneaky, so he told me to meet up with you and try this whole adventuring thing out."

Rallis rolled her eyes. That sounded like him. "Such a goody good. 'Stealing is wrong, Rallis, you shouldn't take stuff from other people.' Hey, sometimes there's good reason to take stuff!"

"Exactly!" the girl piped up. "Sometimes you just have to!"

Rallis nodded as she read the details over before stuffing it away. "Well! This sounds like an interesting little job!" She stuck out her hand. "Nice to meet you, friend of Adam! The guild calls me Rallis Fatalis but please just call me Rallis."

The girl carefully took her clawed hand. "Peg. Nice to meet you too."

Rallis read the paper over again as she walked into Ardougne. There was something that needed to be investigated on the edge of the poison wastes of the Elven lands, not too far from Lanthus' place. The details couldn't seem to decide what the place was, an old fort, a laboratory, a mage den. All it said was to investigate the place and retrieve a few things listed on the sheets and ensure they remained unseen. Rallis thought about where they were headed and continued into the first bank she found in Ardougne. She was not about to walk all the way to his tournament arena, opting to take something out from a deposit box in the bank. She took out two gold rings, emerald embedded in each, and proudly showed them to her companion. Peg's eyes sparkled at the jewelry, wanting to take them and run.

"One of the most important things an adventurer can do!" Rallis proclaimed. "Always stash away teleportation jewelry in every city! This will get us near where we need to go really quick!" She slipped one on her finger and handed the other to Peg. The girl took it warily, wondering if this was some kind of test or trap. She slipped it over a gloved finger and admired how sparkly it was. "Alright! Just give the ring a rub and prepare for a journey! Go ahead, try it!"

She gave the ring a rub and the world started to change around her, warping into splotches of purples and blues and greens as she was thrown from where she stood in Ardougne to miles and miles away. The world wobbled and shook and spouted colors that made her feel sick. But it was soon over, scenery back to its normal non-wavy and overly saturated self. Peg kneeled on the grass, trying not to hurl from how awful that felt. Rallis appeared next to her a moment later, completely unfazed.

"There! Much faster!" She noticed the girl trying not to puke. "Oh, not used to that, huh?" The girl shook her head, big mistake. The shaking made her head hurt and vision spin and sure enough, she lost her lunch. Rallis' ears drooped in shame. "Oh boy, I'm so sorry." She helped the poor girl up. "Here let's go sit down inside Lanthus' place for a while."

Lanthus let them crash in his arena, place completely empty and eerily quiet with no events going on. Flyers advertising the latest round of Castle Wars fluttered nearby, browning and fraying with age. He had even made them some tea when Rallis told him the poor girl had been sick. They thanked him and Peg leaned against the back of the bench they sat on, wanting nothing more than to take a nap and sleep this off. Rallis pouted at how the adventure was beginning. Getting your new companion sick in a teleport was probably not the best way to make new friends. She gave the girl a glance to see her sullenly sipping her tea, staring off in the distance.

"I'm sorry," Rallis apologized. "I didn't mean to make you sick." Peg grunted as if to tell her it was fine. Rallis didn't feel fine, though. "You know," she started again. "I find I stop feeling sick when I take my mind off it. So let's get your mind off it too! Why don't you tell me about yourself, Miss-Thieving-Friend-Of-Adam's! Who is Peg?"

Peg groaned and had a sip of tea before she began. "Iunno, my name is Peg, I'm a thief, I like treasure, and apparently I don't like magic."

"What's the coolest thing you've ever stolen?" Rallis asked.

Peg's eyes began to sparkle deviously as she recalled her best prize. "I stole something ancient and powerful, hidden away in the tomb of a long dead king. I had to duck passed spears and sneak passed mummies and scarabs and venomous snakes!" Rallis was getting excited listening. "After sneaking passed trap after trap and danger after danger, I lifted open a chest made of solid gold and found the king's own magic sceptre! It was so cool!"

Rallis was in awe. "What did you do with it?"

"I sold it for a ton of money and got this." Peg showed the dragon her blowpipe, a cyan and purple dart shooter in the shape of a serpent. "This thing shoots darts and even covers them in poison! It's my most valued possession." She pulled it closer to her to emphasize the point.

Rallis nodded. "Oh I'll bet! That's so cool though! What an adventure!" Rallis smiled at the girl. "Feel a little better now?"

Surprisingly, she did. "Yeah, I do. Thanks."

Peg took another sip of her tea and eyed Rallis. The dragon caught her staring. "What's up?"

Peg quickly looked away but she had been caught. "I was just-- You're very, uh-- You look--???" She did not know how to word what she was trying to say, fumbling over her words.

"I look...?" Rallis parroted. "What, do you mean my outfit? Pretty, right? I'm a pretty dragon!" Rallis smiled as she sat proudly. That wasn't what Peg was going for but she didn't want to say anything else. It was weird just having a casual chat with a monster like this and she couldn't help but stare and how weird the dragon looked. "You're pretty too!" the dragon exclaimed. "I love the eye makeup." She motioned to her eyes for emphasis.

Peg gasped and pulled her hood down farther. She hoped the dragon wouldn't have seen the markings, at the very least not this soon. And to be called pretty for it? She was obviously being mocked! Rallis smiled at her genuinely. It didn't look like the dragon was mocking her, but it still made her uncomfortable.

"I don't like them..." she mumbled.

"Why not?" Rallis asked. "I think it looks cool! Is it not makeup?"

Peg sighed and removed the hood to show her and rubbed her hand against her eyes to show that the markings wouldn't go away. "Is it a birthmark? It makes you look kinda like a raccoon!"

"It's not a birthmark, it's a curse. And funny you should say that." Peg put her tea down and before Rallis' very eyes, turned into a raccoon. She looked up at Rallis, waiting for her to recoil in fear or abhorrence, but the dragon just smiled and clapped her hands excitedly.

"That's so cool!" she exclaimed, bouncing in her seat. "Are you a shapeshifter? Can you turn into anything else? Or is it just a raccoon? Oh, you look so cute! Can I pet you? Is that okay?"

Peg squinted at the dragon, beyond confused. She couldn't remember anyone ever acting like this when they found out what she was or could do. Most people were disgusted or fearful, but here she was calling Peg pretty and cool and cute. It was weird... but it also felt good.

The girl shifted back into a human. "No, just a raccoon, nothing else."

"That's still amazing! I wish I could turn into something else like that! Well, maybe not actually. I love being a dragon."

Peg had been wary and put off when Adam had described Rallis as a talking dragon. She had expected a vicious monster with sharp mean fangs and large menacing horns and claws with a hunger for blood. Instead she was a tea sipping scaly blue lizard that walked and talked like a person, and was kind and cheerful to boot. And she felt comfortable around Rallis, safe, like whatever she said it would be okay. Peg smiled a small smile under the hood of her cloak. She thought maybe she might like this dragon.

They continued on with their adventure soon enough, much slower this time and with no more teleporting. Peg gave the ring on her finger a disdainful glance before pocketing it. Rallis said she could keep it, but she wasn't likely to use it anywhere in the immediate future with how sick it made her feel. They walked along to their destination, Peg curiously looking at the scenery they passed. She could see the giant walls of the arena they were just resting in, separating the castles and open fields from the swampy pools and grasslands they now trudged through. There was a hole leading into the ground with heavy thick smoke pouring out. Peg choked and coughed as they walked by.

"Smoke devils down there," Rallis told her as she pulled her away from the smoke. "They're pretty nice, all things considered, but very smoky. Don't wanna head down there without a mask!" She noticed how Peg was staring at everything like a child. Everything was so new and exciting, and so Rallis decided to give her a tour of sorts as they walked. She showed off the swamps where you could fill up toads with air and they got all fat and floated. Peg giggled trying to imagine what that would look like. She showed the girl an ogre that happened to be fletching arrows nearby and gave them a wave. Peg hid from the giant beast but Rallis skipped over to say hello.

'This lizard is crazy!' Peg thought to herself. 'She's not scared of anything!' She was secretly hoping that brazen demeanor wouldn't get them in trouble in this stealth mission.

They soon reached a river flowing out to the ocean. Rallis eyed the land on the other side and then the river itself. It was too deep to walk through and she didn't know how good her companion was at swimming. It wasn't too far to the other side, though. Not a short enough distance to jump across, but still not too far. Rallis looked around for ideas and smiled when she saw a gnarled old tree trying to fall into the river. She could just cut it down and they could walk across! ...And then she remembered Adam was the one who usually brought the axe and pouted.

Peg was watching the emotional journey of her companion's face and trying not to laugh. "Are you okay?"

Rallis grinned as she came to a conclusion that satisfied her. "Yeah! Was just thinking of how to cross the river. I figured it out though!" She unfurled her whip. "You may want to stand back a little bit," she told the girl. Peg needed no further prompting and took cover behind a bush.

With a snarl, Rallis slashed at the decaying trunk of the tree over and over, slicing an icy groove into its base. She nodded when it was deep enough and put the whip away, now eyeing a small pouch filled with something that clinked as it moved. She seemed content with whatever was inside, pulled something out, and swung out her hand. Her hand glowed for a moment and from her palm shot jagged shards of ice, striking the groove in the tree and shattering the base with a thud, icy shards and wooden splinters flying every direction. The tree creaked and groaned as it fell into the river, effectively making a bridge.

Peg was astounded. She had never seen ice magic before. She came out from her hiding place and looked at the cracked open and splintered tree trunk, shards of ice glinting unnaturally blue and shimmering on its jagged stump. Rallis hopped onto the log. "That was easy! Now we just walk across! You can do that, right?" She asked more worriedly than condescendingly.

Peg snorted. Could she do it? Did the dragon take her for an amateur? Peg stepped around the dragon and went first, easily and quickly hopping across the log and jagged branches like it was the most natural thing in the world. She jumped off on the other side of the river and turned back with a mock bow. Rallis clapped and laughed as she crossed over, not as well as her partner but still pretty agilely.

"Wow, you are fast!" Rallis exclaimed as she joined the girl. "You weren't kidding! I bet you're real sneaky."

Peg beamed at the praise. "Yeah, I'm pretty good."

Rallis looked over the paper again and scanned the area. "We've got some climbing to do," she said. "Hope you're ready for a hike!"

The terrain quickly changed from calm grasslands to crumbling brown earth vaguely in the shape of a hill. It was extremely slippery, earth falling away with every misstep. It was obvious no one had tried climbing the mountain, no one was stupid enough to try. The two managed to find a firmer more flat part to rest on. Peg looked over the edge of the flat and saw the river much farther away now. She could see the ocean in the distance and the swamp dotted grasslands they had walked earlier.  

She shuffled away from the edge and sat down to catch her breath. Something rancid filled her nose as she breathed in, coughing and hacking and trying to fan the smell away. "Ugh, what is that?!" she said between gags.

Rallis scrunched her face as well. "The wastes," she said. "Ugh, you can even smell it from here, that's so gross. Where we're going there's a poison swamp full of death and who knows what. It's really toxic."

Peg started to think about that and worried. "Won't we get sick then?" she asked. "With no protection and all?"

Rallis shook her head. "Nah, don't worry, I brought stuff. I just didn't think it would reek this badly this far away!" Peg gagged again at a whiff of the smell and pulled the mask of her hood up to cover her nose and mouth. Rallis unhooked a rather large spined thing of metal from her sword, hanging off the handle by a few loops and hooks, and split it into two pieces. Peg couldn't tell what it was but it was spiky and menacing. Rallis pulled something crumpled up from inside the metal case and handed it to Peg. The girl unfurled it and found it was a piece of cloth with a thick string to tighten or loosen it.

"Put that on over your face," Rallis told her. "Over your own mask works fine too. Just make sure it's on reeeeaaaallllyyyy tight otherwise it won't work."

Peg looked at the cloth dubiously. She didn't think a scrap of fabric with some string would help keep out that horrible stench. "Just trust me," Rallis said as if reading her thoughts. "It works. You could be in a room filled with dust devils and aberrant spectres and not smell a thing!"

Peg looked at the cloth thoughtfully and threw off her hood to put it on. Rallis helped tighten it on her face and secure it before putting the hood back on her head. She was right. Like magic, the rotten stench was gone. She breathed a sigh of relief she wouldn't have to smell it any longer. "What about you?" she asked the dragon, muffled from the cloth covering her face.

She frowned at the metal contraption in her hands. "I've got this uncomfortable thing. I hate wearing it but it works." Rallis slipped the first part over her head like a mask that covered her face and top of her head and groaned as she flipped the other piece in her hands. She never did like putting anything over her face, especially not a metal mask of pointed edges and uncomfortable bindings. "Problem with things only being made for humans is that nothing is designed for me. Your fancy 'slayer helmets' with all their cushy padding inside doesn't work for me." She angrily waved the metal piece in the air, shouting at no one in particular. "Do you know how hard it is to make something like that fit to a dragon?! Very! And equally uncomfortable!" She stopped complaining and slid the second piece under her chin, snapping it into place and pulling at a strap under her chin and around her neck to tighten it and hold it in place.

With a grumble and a groan, the metal mask was on. Rallis may have hated the thing but Peg thought it made her look intimidating, what with the spines and all that. Rallis pointed up the mountain. "Shall we continue?"

The higher they climbed, the less crumbly the ground became. The air grew thicker and murkier, like sludge trying to be passed off as something breathable. Peg was glad she couldn't smell the stuff, mask doing wonders. As they neared the top, they could no longer see the land below, obscured by murk and clouds of poison. Rallis tapped Peg on the shoulder to turn her around and pointed down the other side of the mountain. In a much less steep climb lay a sprawling swamp, green soggy trees melting away in its depths, earth dripping off the mountain like sludge. It spewed bubbles of gas and stench into the air, dyeing the world murky greens and greys.

Rallis pointed at the base of the mountain. "Where we're headed should be somewhere down there," she said, voice warping inside the metal mask. "Be on your guard. We don't know who or what is there. Stay quiet, stay low, and follow me." Peg nodded as she quietly snuck behind Rallis to follow her. Rallis skid to a stop suddenly, Peg bumping into her and stumbling into the dirt. "Sorry! I just remembered! Obviously, don't take the mask off, but also! You don't have fire runes or a torch or anything that might spark, right?"

Peg shook her head. She just had some darts in her blowpipe and knives and a dagger. "Ok good, because the air here is flammable. So don't spark anything!"

The girl started to sweat nervously. Not only was the air poisonous, but it was also flammable?! That wasn't comforting. Then something sunk in and she felt even more unnerved. Wasn't she traveling with a dragon, something that breathed fire? 'I think I'd be more worried about you lighting the place up!' she thought to herself. She dare not say that aloud though. Rallis had gone on adventures before, Peg had to hope she knew what she was doing and not misremember something like that in the heat of the moment.

With no more interruptions, the two snuck down the mountain, hiding behind piled up debris wherever they could to scope out possible dangers. They were nearly at the bottom now, swamp gurgling excitedly. Peg hadn't seen anything like an entrance to a secret lair, but Rallis was slowly creeping towards something. The dragon nudged the girl and pointed to a mound of swamp debris jutting out over the muck, soggy melting tree perched alone atop the mess.

Peg didn't see what was so special but followed Rallis along anyway. They crawled over to the mound and investigated. It was bigger than most other mounds of debris, granted, but it still looked to be just that: debris. Rallis ran her hand along the part facing the swamp and motioned Peg over. Rallis was right to be suspicious of the mound, as when Peg came closer she found what looked like a seam in the pile. They tried pulling the seam apart but no dice. It didn't budge. Rallis continued to scrape at it while Peg looked around for clues. She flipped over sinking rocks and rotting branches, being doubly careful of putting them back exactly how she found them, but she didn't find anything suspicious.

Peg then eyed the tree. It didn't look that out of the ordinary, leafless and soggy and warped like the other decaying ones dotted around the landscape, but she investigated closer anyway. She poked and prodded at it, it certainly felt like real wood, but it also didn't. Peg started to pull at the branches and one had some resistance to it, an unnatural amount for something that should have been soggy and rotten. With a grunt, she pulled the branch, and it snapped down like a lever. The mound of debris shuddered as it cracked open like a vault door. Rallis jumped back, hiding by the tree above the mound with Peg, and the two watched and waited for something to happen. They waited, and waited, and waited, but nothing happened, no one and nothing came out.

Rallis hopped down and cautiously poked her head inside. It was dark inside, the only illumination being something flickering down the way. It was much cleaner inside as well, no swamp muck or the like, but firm smooth ground and stone walls. The two slowly stepped inside, hands on their weapons and on high alert. No one was coming to greet them, they seemed to be in the clear and snuck in. Peg found a switch on the walls near the entrance and pulled it down. With a groan, the entrance shut and they were left in darkness.

"Don't want anyone knowing we're here," Peg whispered, voice bouncing off the walls despite how quiet she was. She flinched from the noise.

"Come on," Rallis whispered as she stepped into the darkness. "Let's get to work."

Wherever they were was near pitch black, only light source being glowing crystals embedded in the walls, flickering from how shattered they were. Luckily neither of them needed too much light to see, both having enhanced vision in the dark. They could vaguely make out the shapes of heavy metal doors lining the walls of the corridor they now walked through. Most were locked with some sort of mechanism neither of them could figure out, diamond shaped impression acting like a lock that even Peg couldn't figure out how to pick.

They continued to sneak around the dark, eventually finding an open door. Peg stood by the door frame, watching for guards and ensuring the door didn't shut and possibly lock them in. The room had some drawers and files inside, all meticulously sorted and labeled. There were some metal sticks with loops hung on the walls as well, like things you would catch wild animals with. Rallis sifted through the files, looking for anything that described what was happening in this facility. The mission statement listed that they were to bring back any physical information on what the purpose of the facility was, and if possible, how to replicate whatever was being done. There was next to no information about this place so the guild was desperate to get their hands on any scrap they could.

So far all Rallis was seeing were files on the workers. 'Boring human, boring human, another boring human, oh look another boring human,' she ticked off in her head as she flipped through the files. She stopped on one and gave it a glance. 'Elf?' It was intriguing to find an elf among a crew of humans, but it still didn't give her any information she was looking for. The rest of the drawers were empty. Rallis huffed as she relieved Peg of duty and carried on.

They found two more open rooms but there was even less to be found in them, just more metal tools and heavy white suits hanging from a rack. They reminded Rallis of the mourner outfit and she shivered.

"What exactly are we looking for?" Peg asked in the safety of the small room.

"Paperwork," Rallis told her. "Or anything that says what this place is and what they're doing here."

Peg nodded, making sure to keep an eye out for anything like that.

They headed back down the corridor again. A hiss and whine echoed throughout the room, alerting the two and putting them on guard. Suddenly, there was a pop and a shatter as a crystal light exploded in a shower of light and dust, illuminating every minute detail of the hallway at once. Peg gasped and yanked Rallis into the nearest open room and pushed her against the wall.

"What's wrong?" Rallis whispered as she crouched next to Peg.

"In the flash," Peg panted. "There was someone, a person! I swear!"

Rallis believed her. "I'll take a peek. Don't come out." Rallis nervously poked her head out the cracked open door and stared down the hallway, waiting for her eyes to adjust. It took a moment, but outlines soon started to take shape, and sure enough there was a humanoid shape down the hallway, standing completely still. Rallis had to fight her instinct to duck back in the room and strained to see more details. She could see the ceiling was weird, like part of it was coming undone, as was a part of the ground. It was there where the two areas were messed up that the shape stood. Rallis leveled herself with the ground and crept a few feet forward, Peg harshly whispering for her not to.

As Rallis drew closer, she could make out more. The figure seemed to be floating, like one of the people on Lunar Isle. They floated in the dark, unmoving, standing vigil in the middle of the hallway. Feeling confident Rallis crept closer, just a little. It was then she saw something hanging from the ceiling, something thick. It swayed ever so slightly, as did the figure.

Another hiss and a whine pierced the silence as another crystal light popped and exploded. Rallis recoiled in horror and shock as she saw the briefest glimpse of the figure before spots filled her vision. She scurried back to Peg, trying not to hurl in her mask.

"What is it?!" Peg questioned, shocked at her partner's reaction.

Rallis shook her head. "A man... hanging from the ceiling. Something was around his neck, something black and sticky, like a vine but rotten. And..." She shuddered. Peg leaned in, wanting to know more. "He was all... swollen. His face, his neck, his hands, they were all black and puffed up and covered in yellow spots. The black vine around his neck, it was the worst there, like a frog, like it would pop open."

Peg grimaced. It sounded disgusting. "Is he... dead?"

"He has to be," Rallis told her. "If he isn't, that's horrible."

Peg didn't want to take any chances, risks got you caught which got you killed, but from what Rallis described it didn't seem like the man could be alive. Rallis collected herself and the two slowly crept down the hall, being careful not to touch the hanged man when they walked passed. Up close, Peg could see what she was talking about too. The girl covered her mouth and looked away. It was horrifying, beyond disgusting, like nothing she had ever seen. She'd seen dead people before, but not warped and swollen and blackened like this.

They moved much more slowly and warily from then on. Where there was one person, there were more. The farther they went, the more the ground cracked and and ceiling crumbled. They thought of that weird black vine and how there could be more beneath or above them, but forced the thought away. They had a mission to focus on and getting worried over that would not help one bit.

The facility grew more ransacked the farther they went, more parts of the floor and ceiling pulled up and crumbling, shreds of black oozing vines peeking out from the cracks (which they were very careful not to touch), heavy metal doors hanging off their hinges or crumpled to the floor. The two investigated one of the fallen metal doors to find it squished and crumpled like a discarded piece of paper and started to fret. That didn't bode well.

The atmosphere of the place was growing more eerie as well, faint glow of the crystals giving everything a sickly jaundiced feel. Scratches and scrapes were dragged across the floor and walls, like something was unwillingly pulled away. Rallis and Peg checked every room for answers, now looking for themselves as much as the guild, wanting to know just what the hell happened and if they would be safe. The air was growing worse as well, flakes of who knows what floating through the air like a snow globe.

"I think I'm starting to see why there were suits back there," Rallis told Peg. The place felt gross to be in, hazardous and sickly.

Despite the fact that both of them were clothed pretty well, little to no skin showing at all, Peg couldn't help but agree. "Doubt they would fit, sadly. And they don't look easy to sneak in."

Rallis grimaced. That was true. But she was starting to wonder if sacrificing some stealth for an added layer of protection wasn't such a bad idea. Especially since it seemed to get worse as they went. The corridor started to take sharp turns every now and again now, and things looked bleaker every time. There wasn't even a point in checking the rooms they stumbled across anymore. The contents were smashed to bits or covered in weird black oozing growths.

As they turned another corner, they froze. Massive black tendrils had cracked open the floor and poured out like a venomous bouquet, clawing their way out of the earth and up the walls. Crushed underneath the vines and blackened and bloated was a human, exposed flesh rotting and bubbling away from the touch of the vines. Their exposed hands were melting off at the wrist, like candle wax left burning for too long. Another human was caught on the wall, vine piercing through his stomach and out his mouth, ichor dripping slowly out of the wounds. Another human was slumped against the floor and wall, tendrils coiling around them like snakes, trying to rip the protective suit off but failing, finally settling on slipping through the seam between the hood and top, turning their head into black paste with yellow sprinkling.

Peg gasped and backed away, not ready for what she just saw. Rallis quickly pulled her back around the corner, dragging her away from the scene. The girl was starting to freak out. She thought she was going on some simple but exciting thieving adventure! She would get to do what she did best and sneak in and steal something, show off that even she was good at something! But this? Melting people and this sense of dread... it was making her sick.

She hardly noticed Rallis shaking her by the shoulders and trying to get her attention. She snapped out of her trance at the sound of her name and saw Rallis looking worriedly at her. "Hey, hey, it's okay," Rallis tried. "Calm down, it's okay." Peg was giving the corner worried glances like one of the melted men would come crawling with black ooze. Rallis could feel the girl shaking under her hands she was so scared and did the only thing she could think of and hugged her. Peg stop shaking for a moment, completely confused, and before she could be uncomfortable enough to wriggle back, Rallis let her go.

"I'm so sorry our adventure is turning out like this," she said apologetically. "I had no idea." Her voice grew firmer, more protective and stern. "But we need to keep moving forward. That's what good adventurers do. And I'm not gonna let any of that happen to you. I promise."

Peg had calmed down much more now. Something about how her companion spoke made her feel like she was right, that everything was going to be fine. She was like a mom. She nodded and froze, ears training on a distant sound. Rallis picked up on it too, training in the direction it was coming from. She motioned for Peg to stay put and quiet as she slunk around the corner and looked down the hall where the noise was coming from. She could see the three rotting men and the mess of black goop, but beyond that the hall was dark, vines presumably having covered or shattered the lights. Rallis couldn't see what was making the noise, but it sounded like something very heavy shuffling along and it was definitely headed their way. She turned around the corner and back to Peg, not waiting to find out what was making the noise.

"We need to hide," she hissed and pulled Peg along, sprinting to the nearest unlocked room. They dove inside, trying to quietly find a place to hide. There wasn't much in the room, a couple of broken chairs and a counter littered with shattered syringes, but there was an overturned table, splintered like something had rammed into it. They ducked behind it, crouched against the wall next to the door frame, hiding behind the broken table, and waited. The shuffling was much louder now, accompanied by heavy breathing and the occasional grunt. Rallis motioned for Peg to not make a sound as she pulled the girl to the ground with her. The two were hidden from view, able to peek out through a small crack between the broken table and floor.

Whatever they were hearing was right outside now, its footsteps dragging along the floor. It bumped into the nearby wall with a growl before trying again and managing to stick its head through the doorless frame. Rallis could feel the girl tense next to her and quickly covered her mouth, fearing she would give their position away, though even the dragon was having a hard time remaining stoic over what had come through the door.

It was a horrifying visage, a massive head that could barely fit through the door. It looked like a dark beast, only its imposing horn was gone. Little bits of bone poked out through a coagulated sore of black puss, the only indication there had been a horn there at all. Even the spiked points of its shield-like head were chipped and cracked. It panted heavily, showing row after row of warped razor sharp teeth, like a shark's but much more misshapen and malformed. A chunk had been taken out of the right side of its face, letting one see the inside of its mouth through its cheek and even part of its skull. The wound oozed black sludge, as did its mouth, blackened waste dribbling onto the floor with a sizzling splat and clumping its fur together to give it a sickly glossy look. The worst part were its eyes. It's right eye had been torn out, hanging on by a thread as the eyeball dangled out of the socket by slippery yellowed strands of nerve and muscle. The nearly empty socket seemed to cry a shadowy ichor. The other eye was just a glowing green light in a pit of black. It turned its head in such a way that made it apparent the beast had only one working eye and it was not the dangling one.

The beast carefully turned its gaze around the room, sniffing and snorting as its tongue lolled like a starving dehydrated dog. It growled and chomped at a broken chair, shattering it in a rain of splinters. Rallis crept closer to Peg, practically on top of her now, heart racing a mile a minute. She begged in her head for the beast to turn around, leave, not look this way. The beast nudged at the overturned table, giving it a long sniff. It leaned back with a growl as black ooze dripped out of its nose. Slowly and carefully, the beast backed out of the room and continued onward toward the entrance of the facility, heavy dragging footsteps disappearing down the hall.

When Rallis was good and sure the beast was far away, she let go of Peg and sat up, leaning against the wall for support. Peg didn't get up from the floor, staring wide eyed at Rallis for answers. The dragon couldn't even shake her head, she was so shaky from the encounter. Peg crawled along the floor and poked her head outside. There were remnants of footprints streaked across the floor and droplets of black sludge dotting the cracked stone indicating where the beast had gone.

Rallis tapped Peg on the shoulder, girl spinning around with a fearful start. "Let's go quickly, before it comes back," Rallis whispered. Peg didn't want to, she honest to god did not want to, but staying put was just as bad an idea as moving forward, if not worse. The girl hesitated however, body not willing to move ahead as her mind wanted. Rallis helped her from the floor. "Don't worry, I'm not going to let that thing hurt you. But we need to keep moving." Peg nodded as she held onto Rallis' hand and continued onward. "You know, I have friends who are bigger and scarier than whatever that thing was!" She smiled down at the girl. "You'll be fine with me."

She held onto the dragon's hand tighter like it was a lifeline. This is what Kananga did for a living? What a lunatic. How anyone could do anything like this was beyond her. But she followed Rallis onward, ready to see this through and leave. She really did feel like everything would be okay if she stayed with the dragon, following along like a child trailing after their mother.

They moved with more urgency now, fearful of the beast making its rounds. The air grew thicker the farther in they went, and the floor almost seemed to become viscous and swampy. It was growing more dangerous to stay for long and even through their masks they were starting to feel off. Piles of black goo melted into the cracking swampy floor, presumably the rest of the humans who worked here and meeting a gruesome demise. Black ooze dripped from vines poking through the ceiling, creating a rain of death that was soon hazardous to traverse. A droplet splashed onto Peg's sleeve and fizzled.

"Ow!" She flicked the goo off her shoulder to find a new hole. Rallis spun on her in an instant.

"Are you hurt?! Did something touch you?! Let me see!"

Rallis poked around the hole and thankfully it hadn't touched her skin. "I'm fine," Peg said, eyeing the worrying dragon oddly. She sure got worked up. "It was just hot. Burned a bit."

Rallis growled. "I'm confident everyone here is dead. This isn't a stealth mission anymore. Not against humans anyway. Next suit we find, I'm making it fit."

Peg pouted at the thought. Those things looked heavy and cumbersome and honestly a bit useless. So much for being sneaky, though she supposed Rallis was right. It wasn't a matter of stealthy thievery anymore.

They soon reached a massive set of metal doors, torn to shreds on the ground and leaving a gaping hole in its wake. To either side were smaller doorless frames that led into what appeared to be observation decks with how long they were and how they curved around. Rallis was about to investigate one of the smaller rooms when Peg noticed something peculiar inside the shadows of the larger room. She tugged on Rallis' hand and pointed. The dragon squinted but she saw it too. Something was in there, standing still in the center of the room. Rallis pulled out her rapier and tiptoed inside, absolutely silent. Peg was right behind her.

The large circular room was nearly pitch black, only slivers of light eating away at the shadows. The light crystals must have been pretty busted up if they were only lighting such little rays. The ground was almost completely covered in squishy filth, every step warranting a great deal of caution. The two slowly crept closer to the figure in the center. They couldn't quite make out what it was still. It was just too damn dark!

Something slithered across the ground behind them, Peg spinning around to face it, but it was just one of the creepy black vines. Wait. Why was it moving? Plants don't generally move like that, if it was even a plant to begin with. More began to slither across the ground aimlessly, as if simply enjoying the fact that it could indeed move. Peg crept over to investigate while Rallis sniffed around the figure in the center of the room. It just seemed like an amorphous blob at first, but upon closer inspection it seemed like two things, a flower bud and a man.

Peg chased after the vines and found them trailing up the walls. Upon closer inspection, she found the room wasn't dark at all. It was covered in black vines, secreting ooze as they slithered. They covered the lights and made it seem as if a living shadow rest inside. One vine slithered and fell off the wall, casting the room in light. She could see Rallis leap back from the corner of her eye. The girl was about to ask what was wrong but the words caught in her throat. There in the center of the room was something horrid. Crawling out of the blackened wet ground were the bodies of everyone else posted to work here, faces warped into melting screams and vines curling through their eye sockets and mouths and wrapping around their necks. Their bodies melded together, making a disease-ridden base for the beast atop the pile. The vines came together atop the pile to form a flower, petals partially closed into a bud. Black ichor drooled out of its center from between the petals and trickled to the floor below. Yellowed fangs adorned its fleshy petals like a mouth. Carnivorous plants were one thing, but this was a whole new beast altogether.

Peg was horrified, all the screaming melted bodies, now knowing they were in a room made of deathly flower vines. Rallis motioned to her and put a finger to her lips and motioned for her to stay where she was. Peg nodded and waited for the dragon to carefully tiptoe over. Rallis scooped the girl up when she reached her and ran, not looking back and diving into the nearest room. The two sat on the floor for a moment before letting their fear sink in a bit. Peg was shaking in the dragon's arms, trying to push the disgusting image of human fertilizer from her mind. She was on the verge of tears.

"What the hell is that?! What the hell is any of this?! What are we supposed to do about anything?! We can't! We need to run!"

Rallis grabbed the girl by the shoulders. "Calm down. It's going to be fine. What was in there was fowl, yes, but now we know we don't need to go back. There's only two rooms left to check, and once we do we can leave. We need to get this done, Peg, but once we do, you leave and never come back. Understand?"

Peg swallowed and shook her head nervously. She was ready to burn the experience of today out of her mind. Rallis took a look around from her spot on the floor with the girl and found three protective suits of varying sizes hung on the wall. All were far too big for either of them, but she pulled the mask off the smallest one anyway and slapped it on Peg's head. The faulds flopped over her shoulders like sleeves and the back became a second smaller cape and the front a bib.

"To help keep you safe," Rallis told her. "It's more important than being hidden now."

Peg wasn't about to disagree anymore. She tugged on the floppy helmet timidly. Now every part of her was covered, from head to toe. "Still don't take that face mask I gave you off." Peg nodded. She wouldn't dare. "Can you help me one last time? We need to find what we're looking for before leaving."

As scary as this all was, she wouldn't shirk work now. She rose from the floor and got to work, keeping her mind off everything. There were cabinets all over the place, some ajar and filled with muck, some locked and pristine. There was a long table in front of a window on the side of the room. Scratches and splotches of black marred the table's face but nothing else of note lay upon its surface. The window was pitch black. From its placing, Peg realized it was black from vines covering it. The plant was on the other side. That didn't make her feel any better.

Rallis sifted through the salvageable files while Peg investigated on her own. One of the cabinets was locked. She snorted. Like that was a challenge for a thief like her. She picked all the locks with ease and sorted through the contents. One set of files piqued her interest. It had red lettering on the front in some other language. "This looks important," she called over to Rallis.

The dragon came over to give it a look. "It says 'Plague Beast.' More than a little ominous, huh?" She read through and narrated the important bits to Peg. "Seemed some people weren't too happy with the idea of the Ardougne Plague being a hoax after all. They enlisted the help of an elf with knowledge of biology and viruses to create a real threat, just in case."

Peg looked at the dragon in confusion. "What do you mean the plague is a hoax? Hasn't it killed a ton of people?"

"Oh right you wouldn't know. No, the Ardougne Plague is fake. Though it seems they were certainly close to making it a reality." Rallis continued on. "This facility was a testing ground for potential plagues to use for the scare. Make a plague, kill your enemies, have an antidote in case things go wrong. Unfortunately, things went wrong." She pointed to the blackened window where the plant monster resided. "They tried a plant based one. The plant died, or so they thought. They used its corpse to make the base for their next attempt, a monster based one. The beast went mad from the experiments and began to rampage. They cornered it in the room with the diseased plant failure and locked it up. They didn't dispose of either of them fast enough and they festered, turning them into what we've now seen." She closed the file. "There's more but that's the gist. This is what we needed, good eye."

Peg smiled, relieved. "So now we can leave this horrible place!"

Rallis smiled sadly and shook her head. "Not yet."

Peg staggered back in shock then barked back, furious. "What do you mean not yet?! We found the stupid papers now let's go before we die too!"

"One part of being an adventurer is doing what isn't in the job description," Rallis told her. "I can't leave knowing this sickness, this plague, and these beasts could get out and hurt people." She handed the girl the documents she held. "Go. Run back and get yourself and these to safety. There's no reason for you to stay in harm's way any longer. You did what you were told and no one can fault you for leaving now."

Peg's mind started to race. She could leave now? That was okay? She should leave! This place was dangerous! If she wasn't careful she'd die here! Her mind went back to the people she had seen here, melted and screaming in pain and terror and she shuddered. She wasn't going to end up like that, no way! She was going to forget any of this ever happened and hide in the safety of a tree. But Rallis...

The dragon was thinking of a plan of action, checking her runes and looking around for anything useful. Why was she staying? Some stupid adventurer code of honor? Well Peg wasn't that stupid. She felt bad leaving the dragon here alone but she wasn't going to risk her life for a stranger she just met. But...

"Why don't you come with me?" Peg tried. "We could get more people and come back and fight with better equipment!"

"By the time we get back, we could have more unsavory guests. People will come looking once they stop getting updates on this project. Remember, this was also a stealth mission at first. People aren't supposed to know this place exists. Who would we go to?"

Peg scowled. "You're so stupid!" she blurted, startling the dragon. "Risking your life for people you don't even know, fighting something you don't even know how to stop, how ridiculous. Why would you do that?! Why would you risk dying for someone?!"

Rallis softened a bit and placed a hand on the girl's shoulder. "Just because you don't know someone doesn't mean they aren't worth fighting for. Imagine if this got out and a city got sick. All the children and parents and innocent people. Sometimes what's right puts yourself at risk." Peg didn't understand, she didn't want to. "I don't intend to die though, don't worry."

Peg looked to her feet. She better not. Peg didn't need someone dying for her. So would she stay with Rallis after all?

Before she could make up her mind, a shadow fell across the room. The two looked to the doorframe to find the beast, drooling over the thought of a pair of snacks. Rallis gasped and threw Peg behind her, slamming her into the wall roughly. Peg cried out as she hit the wall, hissing in pain. She froze as a ferocious roar shook the room. Rallis was staring down the beast, whip and shield drawn. It roared and slammed a foot down, aiming to crush the dragon. Rallis rolled out of the way and slashed a claw off, enchanted icy whip slicing through the squishy rotten flesh with ease. It screeched and staggered back, bleeding black ooze and corroding the floor. Rallis launched a shard of ice near the ceiling of the room, above one of the cabinets and into a rusting vent.

"Peg, take the papers and run! I'll be right behind you."

Despite being faced down by a toxic rotting monster, Rallis sounded eerily calm, eyeing the monster's every move. Peg couldn't understand how she remained so stoic in the face of danger like this. She hopped up the cabinet and began to pry off the remaining frozen shards of metal so she could crawl through. Rallis was slashing at the monster to drive it back so Peg could get a head start. She pried the last piece loose and began to crawl into the safety of the vent. "Alright, let's go!"

Rallis slashed at the monster's warped face, ripping off a piece of its nub of a horn. It howled and clawed at its face, trying to paw away the pain. Rallis spun around and sheathed her equipment. "Okay go! I'm comi--!"

CRASH!

The shatter of glass cut off her cry as the vine covered glass broke open, oozing tendrils filling the room. They hovered, as if waiting for a command. The beast stopped shrieking and crying long enough to lock eyes with Rallis and roar. At once, the vines shot toward the dragon, wrapping around her feet and crawling up her body. The dragon howled at the burning of the vines and tried to claw them away, each vine she severed having two more replace it.

"RALLIS!"

The beast turned toward the shout to find another intruder peeking out of the vent. It roared at the girl, vines creeping up the walls to get at her.

"LEAVE HER ALAAAGH!"

A black tendril wrapped around Rallis' neck, cutting off her plea. She couldn't tear it off, her arms bound by the vines. Peg was panicking. Her blowpipe would do no good here with her mask on. How could she help?! And once the vines reached the vent, she would be caught in a second.

Rallis wriggled her hand into a jingling pouch at her side and grabbed a few runes between her fingers. "Run!" she choked before the runes crumbled to pieces. The vines reached the vent and readied to strike at the girl only to find their path suddenly blocked by a frozen barricade. A sturdy wall of ice now blocked them from their target.

Peg pounded against the ice. "Rallis!" She watched in horror through the ice as the vines carried her away, back into their lair, and the room turned to inky black.

...

.....

.......

It was quiet. No one would think anything had happened in the facility with how silent it was. Peg shuffled through the vent, following its path back to what she hoped was the entrance. She huffed into her mask, upset, furious, shocked. She didn't understand. She didn't understand how this person, this beast she had just met was willing to save her life. They were just fine moments ago. They found what they were looking for! Their adventure was almost over! And yet... in the blink of an eye, Rallis was gone. She continued to shuffle in silence as her thoughts raced.

Pale jaundiced light trickled at the end of the darkness. She had found her exit. With a forceful shove, Peg knocked the grate loose and fell into the room below. It was one of the rooms much closer to the entrance, one of the rooms with all the protective suits. The air was nowhere near as filthy and the floor still stood solid and mostly pristine. No black puddles of muck to be found. She peeked out the door and into the hallway. No monsters in either direction. She sighed and clutched the files Rallis handed to her. She should go. She should get these back. These were important, Rallis said so. She needed to get out of here and deliver them. And yet...

Peg turned her gaze down the hall, back into the depths of the laboratory. She couldn't leave Rallis here to die. She could be turning into one of those gross warped people right now and Peg was standing around doing nothing! Running head first into danger wasn't something she was keen on doing, she avoided confrontation and danger her whole life. But this... she couldn't avoid it anymore. She was tired of people dying for her and putting their lives on the line to protect her. She was going to do something about it.

She placed the file on the nearby table and strode down the hall.

The corridors were darker than last time and much more active. Vines angrily wriggled about, popping up sections of the floor and feeling around as if searching for something. It grabbed onto a shoe of a corpse and at once the body was consumed by vines, only for them to reemerge, almost angry they hadn't found what they were looking for.

'Is it trying to find me?' Peg thought.

The vines were searching blindly, latching onto anything humanoid in shape. She carefully weaved her away around the tendrils. 'Guess so. But it can't see me. But the beast did. It told them where Rallis was so they could catch her. So long as it doesn't see me I should be fine.'

She tiptoed her way back to the place they were separated. The entire corridor was now a sea of black murk, stone tiled floor all but floating on the putrid waves of death. The room they were just in was flooded with vines. No way she would get back in there. It was just her and the room with the flower, the source of the plague and its beast. Peg took a breath to steady herself and stepped inside.

The vines were much less frantic in here, milling about for no particular reason. It was hard to make anything out but once her eyes adjusted she began to identify shapes. There was the flower atop its corpse pile in the center, and the faint glowing outlines of light crystals on the walls, but she also saw amidst the molten pile of corpses a familiar shade of blue.

"Ra--!"

The word caught in her throat. The beast stomped around the flower, sniffing the air. Peg held her tongue and froze. Its one working eye glowed green in the darkness, a watchful emerald floating in the shadows. She crept out of its line of sight, always staying on its blind side. As long as she wasn't seen, she could rescue Rallis without a hitch. With careful footwork, she made her way to the base of the pile where the flower and Rallis resided. The plant hadn't seemed to notice she was there as she yanked on Rallis through the muck. The dragon was unconscious and hot to the touch. The muck burned through her gloves, threatening to burn the fingertips right off like the droplet did to her sleeve. She grabbed the dragon by the metal of her snout and shook, hoping to wake her up. Rallis groaned and blinked awake. Peg grinned under the mask. She wasn't dead!

"Peg... Where...?"

The flower seemed to notice its food was now awake. It's hissed and wrapped a vine around her neck and pulled. The dragon was yanked free with a squelch and brought to the flower's mouth. Peg choked on a gasp as she saw Rallis' condition. She was mostly covered, just like Peg, but her tail was out in the open. Black and yellow spots popped up between her scales, making them bleed and threaten to fall off, and her feathers began to rot and crumble as if burnt. The flower brought the dragon's face closer and chomped down and pulled, trying to tear her metal mask off.

"No, stop!"

The beast turned at the noise, gaze locked on Peg.

'Oops.'

The beast roared and stomped forward, trampled vines angrily shooting forward to help. The entire room was alive with the angry flailing of the plant's tendrils, writhing like shadowy tentacles. Peg ran and dodged artfully as she tried to think.

'Shit, shit, shit what do I do?!'

The beast slammed its claws down only to crush sludge. Three vines tried to entangle her feet but a well placed leap carried her away.

'As long as that beast has an eye, the plant can see me. What do I do?!'

The monster roared and vines lashed out from the ceiling to grab her. They couldn't even graze her she was so fast.

'What weapons do I even have that will work? I can't touch it, my dagger is out of the question. I can't take my mask off to shoot my blowpipe. Maybe the throwing knives?'

Peg spun around and pulled a perfectly balanced knife from her belt. She threw it with pinpoint accuracy toward the monster's eye. It was going to hit! But alas a vine smacked it out of the way, knocking it to the floor to be eaten by swampy goo.

'Maybe not the knives then. So what can I do?!'

She dodged another set of attacks when an idea came to mind.

'Poison! There's poison in my blowpipe! I just need to get some scales out!'

Peg put distance between her and the beast and beat on the blowpipe until a handful of scales fell out the serpentine weapon's mouth. Scales and pipe in hand, she scaled the pile of melted corpses and vines, right up to where the flower was still trying to chew Rallis' helmet off, and slammed the scales into the bud's drooling mouth. It dropped Rallis at the sudden feeling of something striking it, dragon crashing to the floor. Peg was flung from the pile as the flower twitched and shuddered. Her protective helmet went flying, leaving just the mask. She grinned from her spot on the floor. Had she killed it?!

The flower went still, the beast staring at it worriedly. The room grew quiet. Suddenly from underneath her, two vines wrapped around her legs, pulling her to the ground. Peg yelped as the vines burned at her clothes, heating her skin as they continued to crawl up her body. The poison didn't seem to have an effect at all. The monster was stomping over now, drooling from excitement and hunger. Peg whined and struggled to free herself, but the vines only wound themselves around her tighter. She clutched onto her blowpipe for dear life as the beast towered over her, black and yellow drool trickling to the floor.

This was it. This was how she died, wasn't it? By the jaws of a monster where no one would find her. Peg shut her eyes and gripped her weapon until her knuckles turned white under her gloves. This couldn't be how it ended, it just couldn't! She began to tear up at all the regrets racing through her head, but what she was about to do next she wouldn't regret, even if it was stupid. She took a deep breath to steady herself, calming herself as the fangs of death dangled over her head. In the blink of an eye, she ripped off her mask and brought the blowpipe to her mouth, shooting the monster dead center in its eye. It howled and screamed and rampaged around the room, ramming into the walls, the glass, the vines, the flower and its mound in the center of the room. The flower shrieked and let go of Peg as the beast plowed through it and its pile of human fertilizer. Peg shakily put the mask back on, hoping to the gods she didn't breathe any of the air in.

As the beast screamed and rampaged, Peg grabbed Rallis off the floor and ran like a bat out of hell. She carried her out the room, passed the vine filled observation room, down the hall, and collapsed to the floor. She could still hear the monsters screaming but she had put distance between them now. Rallis was finally properly coming to now, groaning in pain. "You didn't leave?" she trailed slowly.

"No," Peg replied. "Not yet. I wasn't done. I still had to get someone."

Rallis smiled. "You'll make an adventurer yet."

The roaring cut off with a yelp, submerging them in silence. Rallis staggered up, shuffling along with Peg. "Where did you put the files?" she asked the girl.

"In a room near the entrance. I didn't want them getting messed up in a fight since you said they were so important."

Rallis nodded. "Good thinking. We'll grab them and go. From the silence it sounds like you took care of the monsters."

Peg sure hoped she did. She hoped the brute trampled the flower to shreds and bled out. "Yeah. The files are this way, come on."

The two began to make their way down the hallway when the lights began to flicker. They hummed and sizzled before exploding in a flash with a pop. One by one they exploded, leaving them blinded and plunged into darkness. Soon there was only one light left, determined to stay alive unlike its brethren. The air grew dense, the atmosphere tense. Rallis unfurled her whip instinctively and Peg backed away.

Stomp.

Stomp.

Stomp.

Something was coming, slowly making its way towards them. "They aren't dead?!" Peg shouted.

"Apparently not. Get ready."

The stomping grew louder as the beast grew closer. Outlined in the shadows, the warped rotting face of the monster came into view. Blood and puss dripped from its eye, bolt buried into its skull. It didn't roar its usual greeting, oddly quiet and sluggish compared to how it behaved earlier. Peg whispered to Rallis. "What's wrong with it?"

"I don't know." She held up her shield. "Be on your guard."

Something slithered around the beast's legs, forcing it to step closer. The two gasped as the monster grew visible. The flower was latched onto its back, vines coiling around its legs to make it move. It wrapped around its neck to keep it in place as well. Vines writhed angrily through the hole in its cheek and empty eye socket, dangling next to its cloudy useless eye. The beast stepped forward and the flower hissed, vines cracking through the ground and walls to creep toward Rallis and Peg.

Neither of them wanted to be anywhere near those toxic things again. "What do we do?" Peg fretted. "We can't go near it or else we'll be trapped again!"

Rallis thought as they slowly backed away, eyes on the enemy. A jingle in her pouch caught her attention. She peeked inside. Runes for ice spells, runes for healing, runes for teleports, and...

That was dangerous. That was a really dangerous idea. But there weren't many other options. This would definitely destroy the monsters, but it could just as easily do the same to them. "I have an idea," Rallis said. "But its as dangerous to them as it is to us."

"What is it?! It can't be as bad as rotting alive by them!"

Rallis dug into her pouch and pulled out a fistful of runes. There were bloods, airs, and...

"Fire runes?! I thought you said lighting a fire here would cause an explosion!"

"That's right, it will. And it'll cook those monsters alive... and us too."

Peg shook her head. "That's too risky! We'll die!"

"Grab the documents and run. You'll be safe and I'll light them on fire with you safe outside and the door closed."

So just like before, she was expected to run and abandon her? "No! I'm not doing that again! I'm not running away again!"

"Damn it Peg there isn't time to argue!"

The beast lunged forward, ready to kill.

"You're right, there isn't!"

Peg snatched the runes out of Rallis' hands, and before she could stop the girl, Peg was slamming them together as hard as she could. She dropped the now cracked sparking runes as her gloves burned away and soon found herself slammed against the floor and covered by dragonhide.

The sparks turned into a fire, and the fire into a blaze, and the blaze into an inferno. The flecks falling through the air sparked and exploded, like little bombs of poison. The beasts howled at the sudden explosions and soon choked as fire burned every vine alive, blaze speeding toward the flower with the intent to kill. The flower erupted in a blaze of glory and the beast's fur burned away like dried grass as the air itself caught fire, filling the entire facility with hellfire. It howled until it grew hoarse as the world around them exploded in a shower of falling rock and flame.

The last pop of fire fizzled through the air and faded away, leaving them in the dark. Peg was sweating from the heat and being curled in a ball and covered by dragon scales. She coughed and pushed the scales off. "Rallis, you good?"

It was hard to see at first, but when her eyes adjusted, she found her companion on the floor crumpled in a heap. That wasn't just scales she pushed off her, that was Rallis! It was her shirt! Peg shook her and hissed at how hot she was. That was when she noticed her scorched back and gasped. She was smoldering hot and burnt from the fire. Her front was fine though, just her backside was burnt. Peg covered her mouth in horror when she realized. When she set off the fire, Rallis protected her. She covered her from the blow. Dragons may be resistant to fire but resistant and immune weren't the same things!

Peg shook her more harshly this time, not caring about the heat burning her hands. "Rallis get up!" She shook the dragon's head and metal clanged to the floor. Her mask had cracked and broke from the blast. She had nothing to protect her from the poison of the plague and the wastes now. Luckily, she was still breathing, meaning she wasn't dead. But unluckily, she was sprinting towards her death with every breath. "No no no no! This can't be happening! It can't!"

She began to pull the dragon along, too weak and tired to carry her far, before collapsing to the ground next to her. 'The ring! She has to have the ring!' Peg remembered. She rifled through Rallis' many small pouches, breathing a sigh of relief as she found a gold ring inlaid with emerald. She slipped the ring over Rallis' finger and all but slammed it against the ground. "Get her out of here! I don't care where! Just go!"

In a flash, Rallis was gone. Peg pulled out her own ring, the one Rallis let her keep, and did the same, disappearing in a flash of technicolor. She didn't know where they ended up, the teleport took everything out of her. She saw Rallis out of the corner of her eye and someone worriedly rush over. That was all before she passed out.

The next few days were rough. Peg got into contact with Adam and told him everything before getting sick. Rallis hadn't woken up. He scolded their idiocy, the dangers of the stunts they pulled, of the possibility they might spread whatever was in there, of whatever they were sick with being lethal. But he was happy they were back. Luckily the man happened to know someone who knew a thing or two about how to handle illnesses, from common colds to world ending plagues. Elena, he said his friend's name was. Nice lady, and smart and pretty too. Adam was unusually awkward around her, Peg noticed, and the woman was rather brusque with him. Her nosy self definitely wanted to know more but she learned nothing. Peg was fine after all of a day of sleep, clothes and belongings disinfected and ready to get back to adventuring. Rallis was still asleep though and it made her worried.

"You don't need to be," Adam assured. "She's been through worse. She'll be fine."

"And one of those 'worses' I fixed too," Elena chimed it. "She'll be fine. Go do whatever it is you have to do. Now get out!" She all but pushed them out of her house so she could sleep.

Adam and Peg began to make their way to the Legends' Guild beyond the other end of town. Peg pouted as she trudged along. "What the matter?" Adam asked.

Peg huffed. "You're sure she's going to be alright?"

"Rallis? Yeah, don't worry. She's a tough one. This is nothing for her."

Peg huffed again. "I don't get her," she said. "I'm not saying I don't like her! I just don't get her." Adam gave her a look as if to say 'continue.' "We've known each other for barely a couple days! Less than a day at the time we fought that beast down there. And yet she risked her life to protect me. She could be dying from that disease right now because of me! She barely knows me and yet!"

Adam shook his head with a smile. "Yeah, that's just how Rallis is. Loyal to a fault. She trusts easily and when she trusts someone she'll protect them from the wrath of the gods themselves. She really likes you!"

Peg looked at him like he was crazy. "But that's stupid! That'll just get her killed!"

"I don't think she cares," he said with a sigh. "She could know a guy for 10 minutes and would fight the chaos elemental tooth and nail for them. Or I suppose in my case it was more like 10 hours." The girl was still shocked. "You'll get used to it. She really is great, I think you'll like her. You're really part of the team now so get ready to see her more often!"

Adam barked a laugh as Peg steeled herself for the inevitable barrage of excitement and bounciness when she saw Rallis again. While she groaned on the outside, she was secretly happy she would see the kind dragon again, and hopefully be much better than she was currently. Peg smiled at the thought but stopped in her tracks with a groan of realization. Adam looked as if to ask what was wrong and Peg buried her face in her hands. The one thing they were supposed to do, the one thing they were supposed to retrieve, the files of notes on the plague research... She left them in the lab... And they were now burnt to ash.

Peg groaned at it all. The poison air, the dangerous sneaking, the visions of horror, the brutal monsters, the near death experiences, the panicking and worrying, being sick afterward, forgetting the mission and forgetting to bring back the target... Maybe adventuring for guilds wasn't for her after all. She smiled at the one ray of sunshine from the ordeal though, her new blue friend. Well, maybe.

[vide0-nasties]

PROMPT: *whispers reverently* that cut scene from moon. eustacia washing julian's hair. I need it

2.5k of deleted hair washing scene, just 4 u cathleen! :***

post-book viii: strength, deleted scene from my fic ‘whatever a moon has always meant’ Julian/MC sfw

Julianwatched Eustacia wash her hair out, hunched over the sink, and he'dwatched her bottomlessly black eyes track to him. She had asked,“When was the last time someone else washed your hair for you?”

Hecouldn't remember.

Now,he sits in the chair she turned around for him at her rickety kitchentable, stripped to the waist. He's exhausted, and wired, with onelittle triumph under his belt in the form of a scarab-shaped key, andeven that is outweighed one-hundred-to-one with questions.

"Canyou comfortably tip your head back for me?" she asks from behindhim, and her rolling dark brogue floods his spine and empties histhoughts of everything except the facts that the hair prickling onhis arms and neck is freezing, and the sudden surge of blood underhis skin makes him feel like a furnace. That voice,deep-deep-deep—he could imagine a trillion things for her to say,and he'd not find a single one of them unattractive.

Thereis one win: he doesn't shiver when she sets the basins down—a mutedsound of copper against wood. He lolls his head back, over the backof the chair, and peers at her. "I could comfortably bend overbackwards for you. Would you like me to try?"

She'sscrubbed pink, cleaner, barer, and more gaunt than he's seen her.Without her makeup, she looks very familiar—all nose, all bone, allbruise-y bags sitting heavy under her eyes. She looks like him. Shelooks exhausted. With two fingers to the crown of his head, she rollshim back up some, but it makes him no less pleased that he caught herlooking at his throat, and that he caught her swallowing.

Oh,he's positively incandescent.

Shehasn't come back into view, so he looks at what he can. Namely, theceiling. It's an inverted and dried botanical garden, strung up onfishing lines. Mesh sacks of potpourri, dried wedding bouquets andclutches of roses, wildflower crowns of all sizes. Every petal adried and muted version of its quick self, brittle and faintlyfragrant.

He'salmost shocked that he'd never noticed, but he didn't—or wasn'tallowed to--spend much time up here. Any? Did he ever come upstairs?Did he ever come—that's enough, and, anyway, the ceiling ismuch taller in only that spot, where the roof peaks into a dormer.His head wouldn't brush against them the way it does in most of theseold houses.

"Huh,"he wonders, staring at all the arrangements. Part of him wants to seehow easily they could crumble under his touch, if they'd continue towither. Another, bastard part of him wants to ask if Asra gatheredthis dead garden for her—no-no, enough of that, the horse is dead.

Eustaciaand Asra are close—a jab at him would leave a bruise on her. She'smuch softer than she looks, and, yet, she isn't. The claws and fangsaren't for show, he's quickly learning, though he's really never hadno doubts.

Hejust wants to—he wants to ask her, just get it over with,get it out of his system—have you—did you ever—when was thefirst time you—when was the last time you—

Julianhas had all number of run-ins with unsavory characters: muggers,pick-pockets, people out looking for a specific and cruel type of'fun,' pirates, and warlords turned nobility, àla the Count. He's met soldiers of fortune, bandits, and murderers.

Hehas never met anyone like Eustacia Barbary. And he thinks he wouldfear her, were her feet not planted firmly in his corner, were herclaws and fangs not primed for use in his defense.

Evenbleeding out from the blood eel's bite, she had turned the tables onhim and boxed him up against the wall, shielding him from the guardswith her back. Constantly, she makes the ground shift under his feet,and it's exhilarating to try keeping up. Being defended, being deemedworthy of defending, is foreign territory.

Buta grape knows a grape. Eustacia is wonderfully and fearfully made,her claws are cursed unbreakable, her fangs are capped in gold, andshe lives under a canopy of love-soaked flowers. Julian isunforgivably wild about her.

Avery tiny and very loud part of him rises up, pushing the questionaway, wanting the long, pale hand of the topsy-turvy, static garden'skeeper to feed him the fragile petals, to see how many he could takebefore the perfume made him sick.

She begins tofingercomb his hair, humming thoughtfully under her breath as hernails scritch over his scalp. “Our hair is similar,” she says,twirling a nail through a formative curl at the nape of his neck.“When I've started growing out mine, that is. Come wintertime, Ihave enough to cover my ears. It's the picture of seaweed.”

“I'd like tosee that,” he tells her, looking at the stubble that darkens thesides and back of her skull, almost long enough to call actual hairnow, due for a shave. The hair on the top of her hair is still damp,but beginning to dry, letting the waves begin to come through.

She gives him aweary smile under wearier eyes, nodding her head. “I'd like you tosee it,” she sighs, her finger in his curl slowing to somethingthoughtful. They both know where they each stand—they both know hemight not see another winter.

“Eustacia,I...” He trails off, frowning and flattening his lips into ablanched line. What can he say? There is no comfort that isn't acradling fabrication, a lie. No comfort for her when it comes to him,anyway. He has her, and she'sgiven of herself freely. What does he have to offer in return? Sofar, whiplash volleys of thrill, endangerment, and unhappiness.

“Tellme if this is too hot or cold,” she says, saving him from hisrunaway mouth.

Thewater she pours on his hair from her cupped hands is a touch too hot,searing his scalp, but he melts into it. It's been days since he'shad a proper scrub, and he's always preferred his water somewhatscalding. He groans, just a little, and feels the muscles in hislower back release a fraction.

Oncehis hair is soaked through—water rolling over his neck andforehead, dripping over his ears, a few scattered droplets cooling onhis shoulders—she begins lathering up a shampoo bar between herhands. The smell is wonderful—lavender, rosemary, and aloe, pepperyand clean—and he goes slacker by degrees, legs stretching out, armsloose with his hands in his lap. His jaw unclenches, and his browgoes smooth as she works over his scalp, nails and fingers andhatchmark-scarred palms.

Ifhe had any decency, he would be embarrassed; he's actually gruntingand moaning—little noises, more like sighs with some intonation—butthe unevolved part of his brain is in revelry, and everything is calmand quiet.

“Doesit actually feel that good,” she begins, “or are you bullshittinglike the girls in the carnal shows?”

Oh-ho-ho?

Asmirk cracks over his mouth. “And what do youknow about carnal shows?” he returns in a purr, dripping teasingsarcasm that's blurred around the edges.

“Themore you pay, the worse they are,” she drones. He barks a laughthat resounds in the air around them, and it seems she can't help butbark in return. That's one of the things he enjoys about her, onethat he hopes is something she feels in return—that he finds herlaughter infectious.

Shebegins to rinse his hair, and all he wants to do is bury his faceagainst her neck with his arms wrapped around her waist, to laughagainst her, and feel her laugh ring through his body.

Asit is, she simply scrunches some excess water from his hair into thesoapy basin, and rubs some oil through the ends of his hair. The oilsmells of nothing, but he knows he will close his eyes when it fallsin his face, and he will imagine that he can smell her—apples,petrichor, orchard-after-storm.

Somethingbumps against his lower lip, and he remembers the bottle glass shewears on a chain around her neck. Without much thought—any thought,really, would've stopped him in his tracks—he takes it between histeeth and glances up at her.

Shehas stopped dead, staring down at him with something he might callconfusion, a hand splayed on her chest. She frowns, her thick, sharpbrows knotted together, but there is worry in her eyes. The glassingscar around the right one warps the skin, pulling it into littlelines. Concern, maybe. Or trepidation. Her concern and her worry havea more jagged feeling, a broken glass quality.

Helets the moment linger, he lets her figure herself out, because herface twists, and her hands clench, and her lips peel away from herteeth when she is coddled, so he has stopped coddling, tried to stop.

Heclicks his teeth against the bottle glass. He waits for her.

Whenthe hand over her heart loosens, comes away from the bare skin overher camisole, closing in a loose fist, she asks, “Julian, can Ikiss you right now?”

Shealways asks, he always tells her she doesn't have to ask, and healways say yes anyway. “You know you can just kiss me. You don'thave to ask permission, or go looking for my chaperone,” he teases,dropping the pendant and reaching for her hands, slowly drawing themcloser, laying them on his shoulders. There is no demand, noinstruction, only suggestion. She is free to do as she pleases, andalways has been.

Hervoice and eyes go a little flinty, but not at him, palms sliding tohis chest, “Haven't enough people taken from you without asking?”

And,there she goes, branding her name into him without meaning to, a markhe would love to wear, even when her intentions are forhim, and not herself.

Itmakes him think of the kiss that will last forever, the gift she gavehim after he'd tried to end things on the docks. A napkin stolen fromsomeone's pocket during dinner at the Raven, a hole bitten into herown cheek, the glimmer of red on her lips and teeth, and a stain onthe linen that would never wash out.

Akiss that will last forever, one that lives in the breastpocket ofhis jacket, an acknowledgment that he is not alone, not anymore.

“Wouldyou please kiss me, Eustacia?”

That'sall it takes. He forgets that her wants are simple—the ones sheshows him, anyway. That anything hewants is only a question away. That she gives easily and freely, butshe takes with care.

Herhands slide up the column of his throat, to the sides of his neck.Her grip is no feather-light touch. It's firm and grounding, and notclose enough to a choke that might get him going. Weight to remindhim she is there, her thumbs coming up to sit over his sideburns.

Shebends at the hips to close the distance between their mouths, and hesits up straighter to bring their bodies closer together.

And,it's just like the world's gone quiet, isn't it?

Theplace where his brain used to be is a big, fat question mark, beddeddown in cotton. The whole of Vesuvia blurs outside of the feeling ofEustacia's lips, her fanged canines sometimes catching his lip andstinging. His mark is gone, Count Lucio is gone, the murder is gone,and the gallows are gone.

Asra,Countess Nadia, Valdemar, the palace—all gone. Gone, gone, gone.

Thereis Julian—Ilya—some overgrown, gangly boy from Nevivon, who stillfeels the saltflats dust on his skin when he is faraway in his head,and Eustacia. Whatever she is—soldier, murderer, monster, whateverelse she is and isn't—she has bruises that ache for him, littlesoft spots she likes to prod. He doesn't know her, or her history,but she's let him see her vulnerable, and she's let him see into herthoughts, and she's let him see into her home.

Shetreasures beauty, and poetry, and she lives in a home with anupside-down garden. She makes up dirty limericks, and poses riddles,and snaps her teeth together when she's pleased.

Shecan't abide people being lonely and alone. She can't abide it inalmost anyone.

Shehas decided she will be there when he is ready to stop being lonelyand alone.

Hebreathes into the empty spaces she leaves, pressing forward, alwaysgreedy for more, always desperate to please. He arches his back, healmost stands, he wants to give of himself, return affection foraffection for affection, to let her know he can and will and wants togive, as well.

Hewants to be good, fucking hell,he wants to be good for her.

Butshe keeps him sitting, keeps him prone and unmoving, slowing thepace, pulling back when he gets to eager. It borders almost onchaste. There is a bigger feeling backing this maneuver, this is notthe lingering goodnight kiss at Mazelinka's, or the recklesswe-could-get-caught kiss in the repurposed tea house.

Whenshe pulls back, he tries to follow, and she laughs. Very quiet, verypleased, her lips shining and pink(er). For a fraction of a second,he fears, as always, she will wipe his kiss away, that she will callthis whole thing off—even when that had been the goal he thought hewanted to chase.

Withoutany spare words, she straightens up and begins running her handsthrough her short, thick crop of hair. Pass after pass, until Julianrealizes what she's doing.

Herhair dries into thick waves, waves like octopus tentacles, and itfalls over the side of her skull, over her eyes, looking for all theworld like the frayed black ribbons on old mourning gowns.

Holdingup her hand—pink now, too, from whatever magic that had been—ingesture at his own hair, she, again, asks, “Your turn, heartsweet?”

“Oh,yes, please,” he tries to laugh, but it might've come out a slur.

Carefully,she settles in his lap, and he loops his arms around her hips.Wherever he sees skin is a place he desperately wants to touch. Hewants to get to know every tattoo, freckle, dapple, and scar of hersvery personally, wants to know them by name and date and cause. Hesettles for proximity, her hands in his hair, her weight on his legs,her mouth against his.

Theremight not be time for it in the future, there might be the longest,short walk he's ever taken, deserved or not, but he thinks of—hopesfor a future where he can dothese things, and a thousand others.

Forthe first time in a very long time, he hopes for a future, and itglimmers gold when he closes his eyes.

[whitbitgitzgud]

Cultural Appropriation (Rough Draft 1)

This was a writing exercise inspired by a night of watching QVC. I’ll probably improve this later, I kinda was working from a negative, film noir detective kinda voiceover mixed with a Tales from the Crypt vibe, but I’m not sure if it worked out

. 

It was a lesson she should have learned. Had she lived, maybe she would have actually learned it. Not sure when she started to take an interest in this type of thing. Maybe her parents were hippies or she was trying to live in "the good old days" of "peace and love" that everyone told her took place in the clearly fictional past. Maybe she thought she was being different than the billions of other white American women trying so desperately to use someone else's culture because she had to personal connection to her own. Had she taken up Irish dancing, maybe none of this would have happened. Hell, if she had just done a little more research maybe she could have skipped the curse altogether.

It all started one day scrolling through Etsy, Wikipedia articles about Egyptian mythology, and d.i.y. jewelry making sites. Would she shine her sparkling personality with a chunky necklace, an ankle bracelet, or large cuff bracelet? Silver gave her connection to the moon, just as werewolves and what other nocturnal creatures came to her mind. Blue beads will be the sky, will be the night and the day and be the breeze flowing through her soul. But what symbols to use, what mythology to borrow that would really show her inner light, her inner glow that the world needed to recognize?

 She chose to make a large cuff bracelet, using the beads to make random patterns of hieroglyphs to draw on her strong feminine power. She loved it the minute she made it. It just gleamed with an energy she could swear was coming from her, of course, she was wrong. When first placing it on her wrist, she felt a shiver up her spine, both cold and warm, unnerving. Despite this, she never wanted to take it off. The energy spoke to her and the bracelet beautifully matched all of her outfits.  

 It started simply enough. A slight rash here and there, nothing that some Cortisone and some crystal couldn't fix. But it didn't fix it. Soon she had a pustules covering her entire arm, yet she figured it'd get better with a little at home therapy. But that didn't fix it either. Soon her hair was falling out, little by little every time she showered. Soon it was coming out in clumps. The bracelet had become affixed to her skin, leaving the hand and surrounding bit of wrist swollen, purple, and ready to burst. Finally, she went to get some help.

 She showed up to the hospital E.R. in the most pitiful shape. Barely breathing, barely walking she approached the front desk. The person at the desk just looked at her in disgust and asked the usual questions: "Do you have insurance" "Are you experiencing flu-like symptoms." The answer was "no" to all the above, the person at the desk nodded, handed a mask over, nudging it along slowly over the desk, careful to not come close to touching what looked like a leper staring at him over the desk. Even then, he feigned a smile and said" What a beautiful bracelet"

 Sitting in the waiting room for hours upon hours, slowly fading and drying and sliding into her seat. Time slowly passing at a glacier's pace. Finally a doctor walk's up and beckons the patient into the back, all the while covering their nose and mouth, trying not to ingest the smell of decaying flesh this dry woman walked by. It did little to help, and deep down the doctor had wished for a bit of VapoRub to cover the stench, as they had done so many times during cadaver studies in school.

 Finally, the patient was seated in an exam room, kept far away from the other patients. Rumors were passed around the hospital about the possible contagious woman that was walked towards the back of the hospital. The doctor tried to listen to the patient's labored breathing, hearing intense rattling. Scraping. Crawling. All at once the patient began coughing uncontrollably, scarab beetles clawing their way through her lungs and up, up, up, scattering and spilling out of her mouth and skittering to all corners of the room. The doctor, shocked and terrified, jumped towards the door and ran screaming down the hallway as the patient to her final breath, alone, covered with beetles and sores, almost mummified in place.

 After the fumigation, and the CDC report, it was found that the patient wasn't contagious after all. What had happened to the patient had remained a mystery until an off-hand comment by an intern at the county morgue. "What a beautiful bracelet, but why on earth would anyone put a mummy's curse on a piece of jewelry?"

[thrownsoula]

@neverthedark. aftermath.

  Two years after she kills Luke, she remembers how to pray, and it isn’t for forgiveness.

  She was hiding out --- really, though, working --- in as-yet-unliberated territory in the Outer Rim. The fact of its being isolated was both blessing a curse, because away from large populations meant far from the Reach, but equally that she couldn’t disappear in a crowd. And for someone with her training, it didn’t take her long to locate the rebel effort on this particular moon.

  She had helped, where she could. For the first month, from the outside, drawing innocent attention to herself when they needed a distraction or simply dropping supplies. She never used scarab or her armor to help cover them. Once the rebels realized she was, in some sense, with them, the second month passed in relative peace between herself and them. The partnership was somewhat mistrustful, but willing.

  Then she ruined it by getting too close.

  There was this kid, not quite out of his second decade yet, dangerously reckless. For a few weeks she watched him almost out of habit, her eye drawn to the people who were vulnerable. And not always to protect them, but she was trying, she is trying --- 

  She still wouldn’t show them scarab, but she taught him some of her less brutal training. How to stand, where to hit, how to hold and aim the blaster. At first he reacted with typical teenage stubbornness, but she could tell he knew she had a point, so she responded with patience, and waited to see what he would do with what she gave him.

  What he did: found her when she was alone one evening, exhausted; offered his hand; invited her to a meal as a thank you. She stared at him for a long moment and didn’t see a single detail of his face.

  It replays in her head whether she wants it to or not. How his chest caved around her, his heart fitting in her hand, and then ripping. This wasn’t her, it wasn’t me, but he’s still dead. In that moment, all she could picture was what could happen to this boy next. The whole rebellion wiped out because of one weapon. A little more hope snuffed out.

  She took the boy’s hand to let him help her up, and ate with his family, and the next day she left their moon.

  She only armors up to fly long distances. In the dark spaces between the stars, she learns another blessing/curse of isolation: no one to hurt but yourself.

                    why did you run, alice? you could have helped them. 

  The soft voice is her mind playing tricks on itself, she knows, not any latent force sensitivity. Not for the first time, either. So she doesn’t bother saying she doesn’t use that name anymore.

     You told me to find the light again. Can’t do that if I’m hurting people.

                    you’re stronger than that.

     If I’m going to let the light guide me then sometimes --- right now --- this is what that means. Please...

  It’s her own please that make her draw in a breath, because she has never pleaded for anything. She has wept and railed and clawed at herself, but what good would it do? Is she supposed to beg the Force for some kind of sign?

  ------She knows what she would ask.

  That it would take a trade, her life for his.

  That he can unforgive her, and finally release her, so she is allowed to give up. 

  That he can just... still hear her.

     You didn’t have to die for this, you know.

  What’s that? No response from the universe? Surprise.

     I didn’t have to hold your heart to know I loved you.

  A month after she kills Luke, the Reach guards let her out of her containment cell. Dried blood streaks the glass from when the skin of her hands split from beating on the inside wall. She’s given that up by now. Curled up at the bottom, she doesn’t stir and barely blinks when it opens. Part of that is physical inability. They forcibly deactivated her armor before leaving her here, and she shouldn’t be able to go this long without food or water. 

  But that’s what you do when you’re done with her. Anyone puts a knife in a drawer in the kitchen once it’s no longer of use to them. And if the knife is a risk, they lock it up, too.

  The Negotiator in charge of her now ( not the same one, she thinks, who hunted her years ago, but why does it matter who he is ) still isn’t pleased about her outburst when she returned after the mission. Twelve injured. An enforcer dead. A lot of damage by one little infiltrator --- but an acceptable cost to buy the death of the last of the Jedi.

  Since serving the Reach a galaxy on its knees, she has become inconsequential. She functions as needed, but no more. Days and nights blur together. The whole time she can’t even think of him, because when she tries her mind comes up against another kind of cell wall and she can feel the blood running down her hands again.

  She can’t think of him, so she feels and pulses and breathes with the thought I am never going to hurt someone because of the Reach again.

  She plans. She waits for an opening, a crack of light, a slip of the leash.

  The identity of the Negotiator who ordered the hit does matter to her a little, in the end. Enough to risk her escape by skewering him before she flees. Right through the gut, and when she twists her claw she ignores the noise he made. Instead, she listens for the crack of his carapace, and she doesn’t draw out the claw until he sags into her.

  She pushes him off her. After a long moment of staring at him on the floor, waiting for any emotion to flood her empty chest, she turns and leaves.

  One week before she kills Luke, he’s doing training exercises, and she is playing the game where she tries to sneak up on him. Some people would call taking a Jedi by surprise improbable at best, not to mention ill-advised. ( Luke was one of those people. )

  The fact that he extinguishes his lightsaber gives away that he senses her coming, but he lets her tackle him anyway. She kind of bowls him over, a softer landing for her than for him, as she ends up perched on him. She leans her weight on her right arm, bracing him on one side, and tucks her legs over the other.

     Her free hand pushes her hair over her shoulder, then rests against her collarbone.   “I win.”

     “Alice...”

     “What? I did win.”

     “And you didn’t have any help.”

     She shakes her head emphatically.   “None. Why are you smiling like that?”

     He hesitates, as if he’s not sure he wants to say what he’s thinking.   “Because you’re going to kiss me.”

     “Oh? The Force tell you so?”

  But that infuriatingly genuine smile stays put, and all she can do in the end is press her lips to it. He knows her too well, maybe. Then she kisses his cheek, the very top of the bridge of his nose, his forehead --- kisses him until she feels some of the tension leave his body, and knows he’ll be able to rest.

  One year after she kills Luke, she still hasn’t been caught. It’s not the Reach she runs from anymore. It’s the New Republic.

  The thought that she should turn herself over to them beats in her faster than a heartbeat. She knows his family... doesn’t need her to report his death to him. The Reach didn’t keep them in any doubt about his fate. They wanted the former rebels to feel their hope die.

  His sister would have felt it through the Force.

  But they might not know who killed him. They would have to be told, or know enough about her scarab to connect her to the mass of insectile soldiers the Reach already had before her and after her. What seemed to matter so much to Luke --- that she wasn’t in control --- means nothing to her now. If she were the New Republic, she would want to find her and chop off the claw that dug out his heart, screw her into a glass case and watch her struggle. He was so strong. She shouldn’t have been able to touch him, love or not, but then ---

  But then, it’s not as if no Jedi ever died before.

  She decides if they catch up to her and put her to trial, she won’t resist. But until then she owes it to stay... alive, at least. Not only to Luke, but to the living he left unprotected because of her. He would never have given up; so she can’t. Nor did he ever stop trying to save her, but again, and again, she wishes he had.

  When her father warned her about grief, he never prepared her to be furious. Most of the time she carries it in her, silently, like a bright, dense coal. But on the day she decides to repay her debt to Luke, she’s alone in her room in a run-down inn. Every time she’s alone the coal burns harder. On impulse, she grabs up the tin cup on the table by the bed and pitches it into the wall. 

     Why did he say that?

  The metal clang isn’t enough. She throws it more than once, harder each time, and finally dents it. She searches desperately for something she brought that will make noise or shatter. She breaks a holobook this way. If she had anything more, she would throw it too, but there’s nothing else left in her.

     Why did he smile, how could he think --- 

  The bed groans as she falls into it, shaking. She doesn’t know if the tremble comes from pushing herself past exhaustion, or bearing up under all the things she can’t say to him.

     Luke, there’s no light in me, you were wrong.

  She hates his faith, and she hates his absence, and after a year she still she loves him too much to turn away now.

  One day before she kills Luke marks the third since the Reach reclaimed her. Call it reprogramming. Call it torture. They are trying to get back inside her head.

  When the pain subsides enough for her to think straight, she struggles to stretch out to him. Her, with no sensitivity, no ability, no connection to the Force. How is he supposed to hear her? But in her head she screams it: I’M AFRAID, I’M AFRAID, I’M AFRAID, PLEASE, LUKE! I’M AFRAID.

  She already lost her mind, her body, and her soul to them once. And she already knows if they hijack her again, there will be no coming back, no forgiveness, nothing. The last time, the Reach anesthetized her, fed up with hours of endurance. She required, it seemed, too much breaking.

  This time, it takes them days.

  One hour after she kills Luke, she still wants to scream, but can’t. And there’s no one to hear her anyway. She landed on her knees some time ago, a puppet with cut strings, and shut out the persistent tug at her spine. ( It wants to recall her to the Reach ship. ) For as long as possible, she even pushes down nausea in her gut, just memorizing his face, because this is her last chance. His blood has all but dried on her.

  When she finally returns for further orders, she brings his body with her. The Negotiator observes that merely his heart would have been sufficient proof of kill, but the body is acceptable. Then they try to take it from her. She says no.

  With a wave of his claw, the Negotiator dismisses this refusal and signals two soldiers forward. She doesn’t stir till they’re in range, then snarls and lashes out. No. A wide slash broadside. They can’t take him again. It’s not until more come to pull her away that chaos erupts --- Luke’s body, at the eye of the storm, and Alice standing over him, fighting claws-first.

  A djo-class scarab steps in to put an end to it --- enforcer, species unknown but size of a tank and better armed. She has to tumble out of the way of his swipe --- he’s too big to overpower --- then attacks from behind. Her claws grow three inches longer into hooked nails. She leaps up, wraps her arm around his neck, and digs the talons into the most malleable part of his armor. And she pushes against the resistance until something has to crack open, and when that something is his armor and not her fingers, she tears out his throat.

  But as he collapses under her, she sees it --- she’s lost her ground. Left Luke unprotected. That last sight of him hits her, as the rest of the cohort swarms and subdues her, and won’t stop hitting her. It feels as if it will never stop slamming against her ribs.

  Loss, after loss, after loss.

  Five years after she kills the boy she loves, she’s stopped asking herself whether he would have forgiven her, because she knows the answer only infuriates her. Getting angry with Luke is never going to bring him back. Except, in a way, that it does, because it reminds her, eventually, of his anger. The quiet, confident fury and the hell-breaking rage, both parts of him she would trade anything asked of her to witness again.

  It’s the first thing about him outside the last moments she lets herself remember. Softer things return to her in pieces and in dreams: smiling, rare laughter. His metal hand meeting her scarab, in understanding. Kissing her temples like anointment. And of course, she still hears him sometimes.

                    you’re strong enough for this.

      But you’re still dead, and irreplaceable. You must know that by now.

  ------There are new Jedi. That’s the news across the galaxy, anyway, a blossom of hope she never expected to grow once the Reach trampled through. There’s Leia, somewhere. Though it’s a mystery who she’s learning from...

  Luke would have loved to teach her. He would have been five years older now.

  He would have been beautiful.

  This is not a loss she can ever fill, nor a debt she can ever pay back in full. And if that’s the guilt speaking, well, she’s guilty. She is guilty, yet here she is, living with it. Trying to scrape out something human with it.

                    you’re strong enough for that, too.

     I miss you.

                    i know.