#//but shes keeping a really close eye on the chroma house as well

[prof-polaris]

Where are you right now?

Wouldn’t you like to know weather anon

[acciocriativity]

Tetrachromat ||Harry Potter

Pairing: Cedrico Diggory x Reader // Hermione Granger x Reader

Summary: In a world where you can see 100 million different shades, every day means a new discovery. But among so many, you find something completely different in someone

Word Count: 2,6k

N / A:  tetrachromatism or tetracromacia comes from the mixture of two words of Greekorigin,"tetra" means "four" and "Chroma" which means "color". A tetrachromat person has 4 cell cones, instead of 3 which is more common, and this makes him sensitive to a wider color spectrum. 

Part II

 I had just come home after a tiring day at work, when I came across a scene that I hadn't seen in a long time. There was a brown owl on the steps of my house, I looked around and then walked over to it, took the letter that was tied to one of its legs, and a few seconds later I saw it flying across the London sky back to Hermione, after all there is no one but her that I know in the Wizarding World. As she was waiting for me there for a long time, I'm sure my parents haven't arrived yet, as they would have let her in. 

I left my bag on the sofa and sat down to read it immediately, I hadn't heard from her in over a year and sometimes I feared the worst had happened. The last thing I received was a warning, she had told me that she couldn't get in touch because she had an important mission to do and that when it was over, we could talk again. 

“Dear friend, 

It has been a week since the war ended, the Wizarding World is turned upside down but we are at peace and rebuilding ourselves now. I'm sending this letter to let you know that I'm going to visit my parents' house in a few days and I would like to see you too. After lunch next Saturday it seems like a good time. 

I have more things to tell you than I can put into words, I would also like to ask you a favor, but we can resolve this later. 

 With love, Hermione. ”

This visit was only the first of many. We talked as far as she could tell me, some issues were still sensitive and very recent and I obviously respected that, but even without many details, knowing the things that happened was difficult to process and she also respected that. 

We started seeing each other more than once a week, my parents managed to help locate Hermione's parents very easily, since our families have been neighbors and close friends for a long time. That was the favor she asked for and I immediately agreed. 

Over the course of two months, things were returning to their proper place and I had been officially invited by the brunette to visit their version of London and of course, I accepted. I was looking forward to that day, in the last letter I received, she told me that she would like to introduce Harry and Ronald, her boyfriend, to me. It is strange to think that I had heard everything about them, literally everything that happened at Hogwarts I knew from letters, but that we never actually talked. 

On the day that the visit was finally going to happen, I was more nervous than I had imagined. At 9 am, I was just getting ready when I heard a huge noise in the living room and for a few seconds I was scared, until I remembered that the girl warned me that this would happen. 

I could hear my parents' voices downstairs and I didn't even have to worry about hurrying, the only thing that caught my attention were the steps on the wooden stairs and then a light knock on the door. 

- Come in, Mione - I replied calmly, knowing who I was as I finished putting on my boots. 

- It's really impressive how you always guess right - she replied with a smile and came in, sitting next to me. 

- It's not very difficult, nobody in this house really knocks on the door before entering, although I keep complaining about it - we both smiled at my comment and I continued - I thought you were going to bring Harry and Ronald - I commented getting up and she immediately laughed , leaving me confused. 

- It is weird to hear you saying "Ronald" so formally, it seems that you do not know him- she explained to me and I had to laugh too.

- I think so too, but as I don't know him personally, it doesn't feel right to be informal, I can't explain it, but anyway, I'm ready to go. 

 We said goodbye to my parents before apparating to a street with several different stores. We walked a lot and it was nice to see how people were happier after all the terror that happened. 

Many people stopped to talk to Mione, she tried to disguise it but I noticed perfectly how well it did her, as if the whole sacrifice was worth it because no one would have to suffer or be afraid anymore. 

It was only at lunchtime that we met with the others at a restaurant, that I had to insist a lot to go and exchange my money because Hermione wanted to pay, since I was the guest of the day. 

Along the way, I noticed how this London is more normal than I imagined it to be, I have to look closely to see the less drastic differences.

- Is it true that you see different colors from everyone ?? - the redhead asked unable to hold himself and I just laughed at Hermione's indignant expression - Ouch! What? It’s not true? - He put his hand behind his head, where he had been slapped by the brunette next to him.  

 We had come in less than 5 minutes ago, I thought it was going to be a lot more uncomfortable than it really was. Right after the introductions, Ronald asked me that question and I admit that I was a little surprised. I had no idea that Mione talked about me for them. 

 

- It is true, colors work in a different way for me. Around everything there are colors popping out before my eyes - I tried to explain as easily as I could with a smile. 

- Around people too ?? Around us now, have colors ?? - his eyes sparkled with excitement when I agreed - what do you see around me ?? - he added with interest in his voice. 

- Many shades of red, blue and orange - I said after analyzing him for a few seconds.

- Hey, it reminds me of that book you gave me. The psychology of colors - her smile opened immediately when she remembered.

- Psychology? It couldn't have a better word for a title? Nobody in their right mind would read that - Ron leaned back in his chair and Harry's posture changed, as if he expected what was coming. 

- That book has the meaning of each color, I like to think that colors describe people but since you are not interested, I will not say it - the two went from water to wine in a matter of seconds.

- We are interested, how could I not have been told about this before ?? - The brown-eyed boy looked at her as if he had been terribly betrayed. 

- We had bigger concerns Ronald, since the first year you two took me into trouble that could have cost our life or our expulsion - she stared at him seriously and not a trace of remorse stamped his face.

- But you don't regret living all these adventures, right? It was fun at least, most of them - he replied leaning over to her with a wide smile. 

- Well, some choices could be decided much more sensibly, we weren't that much of a child - she said moving away to the side as the other approached - what are you doing, Ronald? - her cheeks burned a light pink. 

- What is the definition of red? - Harry said suddenly, taking my attention from the couple next to me, he looked as comfortable as I did. 

- Well, usually strong emotions. Passion, love, anger .. I see it in all of you, but it is not up to me to point out exactly what it means in each case - I said looking at the three since I received attention from the lovebirds. 

- And do you have proof of that? Is it really true ?? - He asked me again, even more curious. 

- In terms of colors and meanings, yes, but as there are few people with my condition, no researcher has identified the relationship of colors with what is around them. I like to believe it's true, so far it's not wrong and I have tested it several times. 

 We continued talking animatedly, even after our orders arrived. The topic of colors continued until everyone was satisfied with their definitions and then they decided to tell me some mini adventures that they lived together, which I still didn't know about. 

- And after all this episode with the spider, he had the courage to say that they didn't do it wrong, as if my head had almost been eaten by mistake - Ron said with wide eyes while gesturing non-stop. 

 We all laughed but I lost focus on the conversation as soon as two men stopped by our table, clearly father and son or something, due to the clear age difference. Both had friendly smiles on their faces, but the youngest one caught my attention the most. 

I just managed to hear an echo in my head of what the conversation was about, I obviously wasn't looking at him because it would be rude and it's not the kind of thing I would have the courage to do shamelessly. 

- We haven't seen each other in a while, Mr. Diggory, oh by the way, this is a friend of mine - Mione nodded at me and I smiled, just before I introduced myself and they did the same.

 Cedric, it’s his name. I remained distracted by my own thoughts until a tap on the shoulder woke me up, they were no longer there but I could tell they were at a nearby table. 

- Hey, I was talking to you - she said with an expression of indignation and a little bit of concern too - oh, finally back to this planet - she completed it as soon as she got my attention again. 

- What were you going to say, Mione? - I felt my face heat up but I tried to hide it as much as possible, the less attention for this moment of mine the better.

 The brunette decided to leave the questions for later and I thanked her internally for that. After we finished eating, it was just the two of us again since apparently both of the boys had plans for the rest of the day. 

- Did something bother you earlier? You didn't even look at us - I heard her say as we walked out of the restaurant.

- Yes, but you don't have to worry about that, I just needed a few seconds to put my head in place - I hadn't even realized what that could mean until I saw the smile on her face. 

- Was just one "hello" enough for your head to get out of place? Not that I'm judging, that's usually how it was at Hogwarts - her tone was a little bit malicious and I instantly slapped your arm. 

- It was nothing like that, I had never seen anyone or anything with so many colors before. He had a rainbow of colors, I couldn't even process it properly - I used the lowest tone I could, after all we were still in public. 

- Are you sure?? Your vision may have confused him with the whole background -  the rational side spoke first and I shook my head - well, it doesn't seem like a coincidence. Cedric has always been the definition of Hufflepuff, I couldn't think of anyone else who could be a rainbow, literally speaking - her smile returned even more prominent. 

 As a last stop, we went back to Diagon Alley because apparently the desserts there were the best. I was about to find out if this is true or not, when Hermione told me she was going to get a book, which really isn't a surprise to anyone, so I enjoyed my chocolate cake alone, sitting at one of the round pink tables. 

- Hey, I didn't expect to see you here - it definitely wasn't a female voice, so as I looked ahead there he was again. 

- I would go anywhere to have such a good cake - we both smiled and I motioned him to sit on the currently empty chair - and what is your reason? I asked with one eyebrow raised. 

- I'm working as a house elf today, my dad ordered a huge order here and I came to get it - maybe I had paid more attention than necessary to his smile, but who can judge me?

- I don't want to disturb you, it must be important - I tried to be the most sincere in those words, but most of me wanted his presence for a few more minutes. 

- He won't mind waiting longer, I couldn't miss the opportunity to spend a few more minutes with such a beautiful girl - he dared to wink at me. 

 Before I could answer, the cashier who also owns the place came to our table personally and what she said made me blush hard. 

- Hello, your father's order is ready, Mr. Diggory and we also have a special promotion for couples, if you are interested - her smile was loving. 

 Cedric was as speechless as I was, both overflowing with redness in our face and the lady did not seem to understand the situation at all, she brought another menu with options for couples to our table before leaving us alone again. 

- This is not what I expected to happen, but this colorful cake looks really good - I blinked slowly and couldn't resist it, I had to laugh and the confused expression on his face made me laugh even more. 

- That was a very HufflePuff way of dealing with the situation and, by the way, you should try it. It suits you after all - I commented before eating my own cake. 

- Do you study at Hogwarts too? I mean, studied when it wasn’t destroyed. 

- Oh no, I'm not a witch. I know a lot about it ‘cause of Hermione, apparently you're quite popular - again I noticed the pink on his cheeks increase and I must say, it's amusing  to watch. 

- Not quite popular for sure, what else you know about me? - He regained his confident posture and raised an eyebrow in my direction. 

- Not beyond what I have already implied, but I would love to know more if it’s okay for you.

 Where did I get that confidence from? I'm not sure, but I couldn't pass up the opportunity and my attitude seems to have taken him by surprise as much as me. The words disappeared from his mouth as I grinned. 

- Is there a problem Cedric? - I was having more fun than I expected this afternoon. 

- I should have asked you out, but you were faster - he said so seriously frustrated but my only desire is  just to laugh.

- Oh, do you want to go out with me? I meant to get to know each other as friends - he stopped to analyze me and I tried to be serious but before he apologized, I held his hand - I was just kidding, I would love to go out with you - I winked at him before letting go. 

- You are really ... my heart is not going to have a minute of peace from now on, is it? 

- I will try to take it easy on you Diggory, but I don't know if I will be able to do it for long.  

 An hour later I left to look for Hermione with a promise from Cedric, we would meet again next week.

Harry Potter Masterlist

[shadowdianne]

Candor

In another less dark news here I present a small ficlet I wrote for my roommate's (yes, the one and only) dnd character. We are playing in the Tal'Dorei setting and she created the most delightful background to work with.

Since I can't draw for my life but I adored the possibility of writing I asked to be left with my own devices and she, despite fearing I was going to write angst, let me do it. She also has given me the permission to repost this here.

M, just a clue, a small one, of which is your account, pretty please xD

Candor

The sound of the nearby chapel’s bells wasn’t strong enough to drown the noise of those chatting while walking between the haphazardly-looking stalls but Freya focused on it as she rolled her shoulders onto the cape she had been wearing non-stop ever since she had walked into Whitestone.

She missed the ability to wear her hair down, the lack of chaffing on her slightly pointed ears or the uneven feel of paint onto her cheeks, the symbols made out of carefully bought paint an important part of her morning routing she had needed to cut off in order to not stand out among the majorly human crowd of the town. Biting on her bottom lip, the half-elf stepped away from two women, their gaunt faces not dissimilar to the ones she had already gotten used to see among the cobble-covered streets of the northern place. Chill air gripping her throat, puffs of air floating through the air as the chatting won against the dying toll of the bells, she hummed as she kept on walking, throwing glances to the product present in some of the stalls.

The effects the battle against the Chroma Conclave were still visible in many parts of Tal’Dorei; the lack of what had been common commodities once upon a time the most jarring difference as well as the slowly rebuilding cities but the lack of light on the ones around her, the way children played close to their parents, not really willing to move too far from them, made her feel the same weariness that had called upon her the first time she had heard the news about how the former Lord of Whitestone had, apparently, returned to his rightful place.

De Rolo. The title and surname had meant something for her once upon a time and as she rolled the name once more against her tongue, feeling the soft tap of its tip against her velum, she glanced beyond the stalls that circled Pelor’s tree, the golden shimmer of its bark, its leaves, paling against the white beauty of the castle from which every part of the city -from its slums to its richest neighborhoods- could be seen.

She had arrived a few days ago, not entirely sure what was what she expected as her usual playful demeanor changed to one she had very rarely used ever since she had fled from the continent that waited beyond the Shearing Channel; the scent and taste of salt from the sea that awaited to those stupid enough to transverse it strong and powerful against her nose. She had thought she had forgotten it; the way her spine would protest as she hold herself to the top of her height, the way her mannerisms would transform from practical to elegant, the slowness of them ricocheting against her bones in the same way she had very quickly gotten bored on her lessons back when she had been younger. Sadly, however, it seemed like the ways of someone from the highest parts of society were never truly erased: no matter how much one tried to.

“Are you going to buy something or are you going to keep on staring?”

The question, made in a thick Tal’Dorei-an accent woke her up from her reverie, thoughts of long-forgotten mornings spent under the watchful eye of her tutors gone in a cloud of smoke as she blinked back to the present; to the forever warm roads that run through the city as blood and ichor alike. Tilting her head while grasping the ends of her cape so it didn’t flare up with her free hand, she grasped the middle of her staff with the other, the magic from the wind that played with the forever autumnal leaves of The Dawnfather’s tree swirling by and towards her, feeding her own power.

“I was just looking.” She smiled, knowing that her mouth and nose were clearly visible to those with human eyesight and regaling herself with the vision of the slightly elderly woman who puffed for a moment towards her before she returned back to the meagre metallic plates she offered -ideal for those who couldn’t afford a full set of armor! -. Staring as the pale complexion of the woman turned red from the exhaustion one must always took whenever they dealt with difficult customers, Freya walked past the kiosk before stopping by in a smaller one, bags of grain and spice laying around and against the cracking wooden planks that seemed almost strange within a city that prided itself from the rock and mountains that named it.

The merchant there was definitely more affable, younger and must had some genasi ancestry on his blood; the runes and symbols on his arms and the slightly strange shade on his skin not enough to suggest Tiefling or Drow. Feeling less exposed, Freya watched as the man smiled to a couple of young human girls that, blushing, paid for what must had been something under their mother’s request before it was her turn. The scent of slightly musky grain felt stronger as soon as her booted feet moved forward, the rustle of her cape making the man look up from the coins deposited on his hand. Nodding towards her, eyes going to the hood that protected her skin and eyes from being watched, the man pointed at what he sold.

“Everything is from the farmlands attached to the city, I wouldn’t suggest the wheat though; little bit too weak this time of the year.” His accent wasn’t as thick and it suggested some time spent learning the basics back at Emon or any other bigger city and Freya, almost out of habit, glanced down towards his hands, calloused but nimble. Smiling herself, she let her mind wander back momentarily to when she had been young enough to not be subjected to her tutors, to when she had had the ability to escape those and run to the marketplace that spread itself as much as possible with the shoreside as its frame back into her homeland. There, close to a much warmer sea, she would put her hand against the sack of grain only to simply push her fingers onto the packed bags, the feeling strange and ticklish as she dug deep into them. She found herself stopping the old and mechanical movement, the need for it obvious on her posture if the quiet chuckle from the man was anything to go by.

She was saved from some further inquiry as she felt two hands pushing against her upper thigs, the size of them human and tiny enough to suggest a kid, one that moved away with much more light on his eyes than what she had been able to spy on many of those who walked alongside her for as many days. Checking her pouch and finding it still attached to her hip, Freya stared as the kid stuck out his tongue, his blonde hair and clear green eyes a soft and sweet relief to her own sore stare. It felt almost painful, in a way she wasn’t ready to dwell on, the way the child’s bubble-like laugh reached for her before he was pulled away from his mother, curiosity obvious as his angle from beneath let her see not only her half-elven traits but the way she kept on nervously glancing every part of her magic hidden and tucked away.

Not out of fear, she would say, not out of terror or worry about the magic on itself as divinity, nature, pacts, were the usual on every other part of Tal’Dorei but she felt uneasy as she tried her hardest not to think on who the boy made her think of, on who the boy -out of sweetness- resembled another one, several others, who she had seen grown up until she had returned to Father’s summer house one year only to find the one next to it empty and cold and lacking.

Feeling magic crackling against her skin, the easy spell made out of two symbols with the aid of her thumb and forefinger almost escaped her as she considered fire, water and air as possibilities the small human child could enjoy. She halted herself on the very last second though, the wood of her focus warmer to the touch by the moment she glanced away, a small smile on her lips despite the weight of her memory as she was transported back to long afternoons and even longer evenings in where she would been spoken excitedly about objects and ideas that were still just a boy’s dream, a shadow of the reality that peppered now through Tal’Dorei: light and firepower and warmth echoing the name of an inventor, a fighter, whose title had been as evoking as the possibility of not one but two re-appearing back in the place from where they had been eradicated; their demises ones that had felt rough and sand-paper-like against Freya’s still too raw skin.

But they were alive, she said to herself as she muttered a soft apology to the man, his boyish smile as if he truly didn’t mind the lack of any sale easing up her steps while she walked further down the line of stalls, the cry of an eagle breaking through the morning air. At least two of them if the news were true and a part of her hold onto the possibility of it.

Because, she thought; at the end everything finished down the same shoreline, being it steep and cold or easy and warm: she needed them to be alive and she longed for them to be well. Even if her decision of leaving behind her own self-inflicted loss put her in a vague kind of danger she still didn’t know how to name. She had forged her own death after all; no one had told her that she would need to not pursue the lives of those who she had cared about. And she longed for that care and warmth and those stories whispered atop the tallest turret of a castle she had known like the palm of her hand back when titles and possibilities had been squandered into the wind. Shaking her head but heart beating lighter, she quickened her steps as she walked past the boy and his mother, mind made up by the time she brushed past them. She moved her fingers, magic minute but powerful a tiny flame danced between her fingers momentarily before it jumped right in front of the kid; his cheers of surprise making her burrow herself further into her hood as she suppressed a smile.

She looked back for one last time, the spell disappearing as soon as her concentration dropped; starry eyes following her, following her staff and clothes in a way that didn’t make her feel naked or raw but seen.

It was about candor, she thought as she left the castle and the marketplace behind, letting herself wander back to the Scarlet Pimpernel, the promise of some food and Valanthe’s easy small talk one she couldn’t truly deny. It was about the warmth that hid behind decisions and journeys.

The eagle screeched again, its call echoing at her back weak enough for her to not think about it twice.

[minescript]

Candor

Candor

The sound of the nearby chapel’s bells wasn’t strong enough to drown the noise of those chatting while walking between the haphazardly-looking stalls but Freya focused on it as she rolled her shoulders onto the cape she had been wearing non-stop ever since she had walked into Whitestone.

She missed the ability to wear her hair down, the lack of chaffing on her slightly pointed ears or the uneven feel of paint onto her cheeks, the symbols made out of carefully bought paint an important part of her morning routing she had needed to cut off in order to not stand out among the majorly human crowd of the town. Biting on her bottom lip, the half-elf stepped away from two women, their gaunt faces not dissimilar to the ones she had already gotten used to see among the cobble-covered streets of the northern place. Chill air gripping her throat, puffs of air floating through the air as the chatting won against the dying toll of the bells, she hummed as she kept on walking, throwing glances to the product present in some of the stalls.

The effects the battle against the Chroma Conclave were still visible in many parts of Tal’Dorei; the lack of what had been common commodities once upon a time the most jarring difference as well as the slowly rebuilding cities but the lack of light on the ones around her, the way children played close to their parents, not really willing to move too far from them, made her feel the same weariness that had called upon her the first time she had heard the news about how the former Lord of Whitestone had, apparently, returned to his rightful place.

De Rolo. The title and surname had meant something for her once upon a time and as she rolled the name once more against her tongue, feeling the soft tap of its tip against her velum, she glanced beyond the stalls that circled Pelor’s tree, the golden shimmer of its bark, its leaves, paling against the white beauty of the castle from which every part of the city -from its slums to its richest neighborhoods- could be seen.

She had arrived a few days ago, not entirely sure what was what she expected as her usual playful demeanor changed to one she had very rarely used ever since she had fled from the continent that waited beyond the Shearing Channel; the scent and taste of salt from the sea that awaited to those stupid enough to transverse it strong and powerful against her nose. She had thought she had forgotten it; the way her spine would protest as she hold herself to the top of her height, the way her mannerisms would transform from practical to elegant, the slowness of them ricocheting against her bones in the same way she had very quickly gotten bored on her lessons back when she had been younger. Sadly, however, it seemed like the ways of someone from the highest parts of society were never truly erased: no matter how much one tried to.

“Are you going to buy something or are you going to keep on staring?”

The question, made in a thick Tal’Dorei-an accent woke her up from her reverie, thoughts of long-forgotten mornings spent under the watchful eye of her tutors gone in a cloud of smoke as she blinked back to the present; to the forever warm roads that run through the city as blood and ichor alike. Tilting her head while grasping the ends of her cape so it didn’t flare up with her free hand, she grasped the middle of her staff with the other, the magic from the wind that played with the forever autumnal leaves of The Dawnfather’s tree swirling by and towards her, feeding her own power.

“I was just looking.” She smiled, knowing that her mouth and nose were clearly visible to those with human eyesight and regaling herself with the vision of the slightly elderly woman who puffed for a moment towards her before she returned back to the meagre metallic plates she offered -ideal for those who couldn’t afford a full set of armor! -. Staring as the pale complexion of the woman turned red from the exhaustion one must always took whenever they dealt with difficult customers, Freya walked past the kiosk before stopping by in a smaller one, bags of grain and spice laying around and against the cracking wooden planks that seemed almost strange within a city that prided itself from the rock and mountains that named it.

The merchant there was definitely more affable, younger and must had some genasi ancestry on his blood; the runes and symbols on his arms and the slightly strange shade on his skin not enough to suggest Tiefling or Drow. Feeling less exposed, Freya watched as the man smiled to a couple of young human girls that, blushing, paid for what must had been something under their mother’s request before it was her turn. The scent of slightly musky grain felt stronger as soon as her booted feet moved forward, the rustle of her cape making the man look up from the coins deposited on his hand. Nodding towards her, eyes going to the hood that protected her skin and eyes from being watched, the man pointed at what he sold.

“Everything is from the farmlands attached to the city, I wouldn’t suggest the wheat though; little bit too weak this time of the year.” His accent wasn’t as thick and it suggested some time spent learning the basics back at Emon or any other bigger city and Freya, almost out of habit, glanced down towards his hands, calloused but nimble. Smiling herself, she let her mind wander back momentarily to when she had been young enough to not be subjected to her tutors, to when she had had the ability to escape those and run to the marketplace that spread itself as much as possible with the shoreside as its frame back into her homeland. There, close to a much warmer sea, she would put her hand against the sack of grain only to simply push her fingers onto the packed bags, the feeling strange and ticklish as she dug deep into them. She found herself stopping the old and mechanical movement, the need for it obvious on her posture if the quiet chuckle from the man was anything to go by.

She was saved from some further inquiry as she felt two hands pushing against her upper thigs, the size of them human and tiny enough to suggest a kid, one that moved away with much more light on his eyes than what she had been able to spy on many of those who walked alongside her for as many days. Checking her pouch and finding it still attached to her hip, Freya stared as the kid stuck out his tongue, his blonde hair and clear green eyes a soft and sweet relief to her own sore stare. It felt almost painful, in a way she wasn’t ready to dwell on, the way the child’s bubble-like laugh reached for her before he was pulled away from his mother, curiosity obvious as his angle from beneath let her see not only her half-elven traits but the way she kept on nervously glancing every part of her magic hidden and tucked away.

Not out of fear, she would say, not out of terror or worry about the magic on itself as divinity, nature, pacts, were the usual on every other part of Tal’Dorei but she felt uneasy as she tried her hardest not to think on who the boy made her think of, on who the boy -out of sweetness- resembled another one, several others, who she had seen grown up until she had returned to Father’s summer house one year only to find the one next to it empty and cold and lacking.

Feeling magic crackling against her skin, the easy spell made out of two symbols with the aid of her thumb and forefinger almost escaped her as she considered fire, water and air as possibilities the small human child could enjoy. She halted herself on the very last second though, the wood of her focus warmer to the touch by the moment she glanced away, a small smile on her lips despite the weight of her memory as she was transported back to long afternoons and even longer evenings in where she would been spoken excitedly about objects and ideas that were still just a boy’s dream, a shadow of the reality that peppered now through Tal’Dorei: light and firepower and warmth echoing the name of an inventor, a fighter, whose title had been as evoking as the possibility of not one but two re-appearing back in the place from where they had been eradicated; their demises ones that had felt rough and sand-paper-like against Freya’s still too raw skin.

But they were alive, she said to herself as she muttered a soft apology to the man, his boyish smile as if he truly didn’t mind the lack of any sale easing up her steps while she walked further down the line of stalls, the cry of an eagle breaking through the morning air. At least two of them if the news were true and a part of her hold onto the possibility of it.

Because, she thought; at the end everything finished down the same shoreline, being it steep and cold or easy and warm: she needed them to be alive and she longed for them to be well. Even if her decision of leaving behind her own self-inflicted loss put her in a vague kind of danger she still didn’t know how to name. She had forged her own death after all; no one had told her that she would need to not pursue the lives of those who she had cared about. And she longed for that care and warmth and those stories whispered atop the tallest turret of a castle she had known like the palm of her hand back when titles and possibilities had been squandered into the wind. Shaking her head but heart beating lighter, she quickened her steps as she walked past the boy and his mother, mind made up by the time she brushed past them. She moved her fingers, magic minute but powerful a tiny flame danced between her fingers momentarily before it jumped right in front of the kid; his cheers of surprise making her burrow herself further into her hood as she suppressed a smile.

She looked back for one last time, the spell disappearing as soon as her concentration dropped; starry eyes following her, following her staff and clothes in a way that didn’t make her feel naked or raw but seen.

It was about candor, she thought as she left the castle and the marketplace behind, letting herself wander back to the Scarlet Pimpernel, the promise of some food and Valanthe’s easy small talk one she couldn’t truly deny. It was about the warmth that hid behind decisions and journeys.

The eagle screeched again, its call echoing at her back weak enough for her to not think about it twice.

[authorloremipsum]

Profoundly Unprofessional

A “The Glass Scientists” fanfiction

Words - 3478

Characters - Sergeant Brokenshire, Dr. Jekyll, Mrs. Cantilupe, Ms. Lavender, mothman

Summary - Sergeant Brokenshire realizes that he and his men have encountered something, curious, and goes to the one place where he knows they might get some help. In the process, he glimpses a side of Doctor Jekyll he didn’t know existed.

Inspired by and written for @zolotaya-orda

    Sergeant Brokenshire saw a lot of strange things in his time working in London, monsters rampaging in the streets, houses destroyed by extraordinary circumstances, and murders more horrific than anything that could be dreamed up in the minds of men. Thank goodness all those kinds of events were few and far between, otherwise one would probably lose their mind. However, the fact of the matter was that these things did happen and that made every day a luck of the draw as to what mad event was going to happen.

    This week had started with the discovery of a thieves’ den near the outskirts of Soho, and after months of looking for these  burglars, they’d finally been lead right to the source. It went well though, plenty of arrests and only a few of the suspects getting away, but there had to be a catch. When they moved to enter the basement, something was waiting, and it scratched a sleeve of of poor Wipple’s coat!

    The man was fine of course, if a bit spooked, but the officers assembled had a unanimous agreement. Whatever was down there was not something they could deal with, and it didn’t help that they’d released it into the rest of the house running from the cellar. They’d need someone to catch it.

    And, unfortunately, Brokenshire knew precisely where to find such a person.

    In truth he had no qualms with the Society of Arcane Sciences, mostly a high level of suspicion for most of their “activities” and a few of their Lodgers. The Sinnett fellow, as shy and polite as he seemed, had caused quite a bit of trouble in the past, same for that man Luckett and his stupid hat. But that didn’t make them bad people necessarily, just incredibly odd.

    Of course it started raining as he climbed the few steps to the front door, knocking politely but firmly. When a moment passed and no one answered, he rung the doorbell, impatiently folding his arms against the cold, glad the overhang shielded him from the cold drizzle. There was the sound of a lock sliding and one of the doors was pulled open, revealing a young woman with ash, was it ash? All over her face.

    Brokenshire frowned, “Madam, I’m looking-”

    “For Doctor Jekyll,” they said, frowning a little. “What’s happened?”

    “I, seek his assistance,” the sergeant said, well, admitted really. The woman nodded slowly and pulled open the door, “You’re probably freezing out there, it’s warmer inside.” He stared at them a moment, only then realizing he was being invited inside.

    With a bit of apprehension, he stepped through the door and it shut behind him with a click. It smelled a bit like smoke in here, but also like cinnamon and peppermint, and odd combination that wasn’t actually pleasant to smell. Brokenshire fought the urge to wrinkle his nose at it as the woman passed by, hurrying towards a room he could see with the door wide open. A familiar ginger-haired man with only one hand was on the landing outside, fanning his face and coughing.

    As the woman neared he called down: “Maybe we should start with a simpler base?”

    “I think so!” they answered, climbing the stairs. The man glanced up towards Brokenshire, went pale, and darted back into the smoke-filled room, clearly intimidated by the presence of an officer.

    And so Brokenshire had been left there in the lobby, lit with the grey light drifting through the skylights overhead, dripping cold water, only the slightest bit nervous about the strange things that took up the lobby. Ahead, the large double doors were pushed open and the exact scientist Brokenshire had come to find stepped out with a book in hand, reading.

    He caught sight of the guest, closed the book, and hurried over. “Why, Sergeant Brokenshire! What brings you to our humble Society? I do hope nothing has happened.”

    “Nothing’s wrong,” he answered, shaking with Jekyll upon his approach. “In fact I, and I don’t want to impose, but we found something curious in a thieves’ den that seemed to er, fit some of your Lodgers’... Expertise.”

    Jekyll frowned a little, folding his arms and tilting his head curiously, “Your tone implies it is some sort of animal, I do hope no one was injured.”

    “Constable Wipple was scratched, but it’s nothing serious, we were lucky no one else got hurt.”

    “And it’s entirely possible that scratch could be far worse than we know, some creatures are known to spread diseases in such a manner, it was wise of you to come for our help,” Jekyll said, putting a gloved hand to his chin in thought, the other tucked behind his back. He gasped, “Oh! You must be frozen to the bone! Can I take your coat?”

    “As much as I appreciate it, I think we have more pressing matters than my coat,” Brokenshire deadpanned. Jekyll nodded, “Of course, please follow me, I know precisely who can help with your situation.”

    “Thank you doctor.” Brokenshire took a moment to shake his cloak free of any clinging raindrops before following Jekyll into the Society. He’d seen the lobby many times before, but never the interior corridors which seemed to branch in many impossible directions as they walked. If he wasn’t with the doctor, he certainly would’ve been lost in no time!

    After a minute or so of peaceful walking, Jekyll began to speak again. “We’ve two zoologists on our roster. Mrs. Cantilupe, senior extremofaunic zoologist, and Ms. Lavender, her pupil.”

    “Extremofaunic, implying monsters,” the sergeant said, watching Jekyll with a small frown. “You aren’t keeping a lab full of monsters are you Jekyll?”

    The doctor chuckled, “Certainly not! And even if we were, I have the utmost trust in those two to keep it under control. They’ve tamed some very ferocious creatures, and I have no doubt you will be at least somewhat impressed by the creatures they’ve got.”

    “Then you admit they are out of the ordinary?”

    “Of course! What about the Society would you call ordinary Sergeant?” He chuckled again and Brokenshire couldn’t help but frown, furrowing his brow a little bit. Eventually they came to a heavy looking door that Jekyll had to use his whole weight to open and keep open. The sounds of animal cries, which had been quiet before, rose to a crescendo and Brokenshire was hesitant to walk in.

    Not that he’d let that show on his face, especially in front of Jekyll who was someone he definitely needed to keep intimidated. If this doctor who clearly knew more than he let on about thought he had an upper hand on the police, he might try to do something more drastic than taking criminals and monsters under his wing. So Brokenshire shelved his anxieties and strode into the lab.

    Only for there to be a shriek like a banshee to his left that caused him to nearly jump out of his skin.

    “Mrs. Cantilupe?” called Jekyll as he shut the door and walked into the lab, sounding only the slightest bit unnerved. Oh, oh he was good, how many other things could he hide behind that porcelain facade? “Ms. Lavender? Are you in? Sergeant Brokenshire is in need of your help with a pest in, oh where did you say you found it?”

    “Soho, in a house where a number of Jewel thieves had been hiding,” he answered, suddenly distracted by a snake watching him from a cross hatched cage nearby. Its scales seemed to change colors and he squinted, stepping closer to get a better look. Canvas suddenly dropped over the cage, obscuring his view, and he looked up to see a young woman with dark hair and glasses grinning at him while leaning over the stack of cages and crates.

    “Careful Sergeant, Chroma here normally hypnotizes prey with that little trick you just saw,” she said, patting the cage and giggling at the resulting hiss from inside. She climbed down and walked around to meet them, “Soho you said?”

    “And you are Mrs. Cantilupe I presume?” Brokenshire asked, gesturing to her. The woman blinked and laughed, “Oh no! I’m Lavender, her student, Mrs. C should be around here somewhere.”

    “GANGWAY!!” shouts a voice, accompanied by a rumbling sound. They all looked down the alley of cages to see a very fat lizard with a colorful frill charge around the corner, scrambling towards the door behind them. (thankfully shut)

    It didn’t seem to care there were people in the way and ran at them, claws scratching on the wood floor as it barreled past, massive tail swishing side to side and knocking into things as it ran. An older woman skid around the corner barely a second after it, a rope with a loop on the end in hand. She let out a war cry and gave chase, practically shoving Brokenshire aside as she lunged for this massive lizard.

    The loop went around its neck and the woman pulled, watching it slip behind the frills and go tight, catching the creature in its tracks. She placed a foot on its back and held it in place, “You hang on now, I’ve business to attend to!” With a firm nod, she looked up at the guests and pulled down her goggles, replacing them with a pair of respectable spectacles. “Now, Doctor I see you’ve brought our good friend the sergeant and I heard something about a creature in Soho? Do tell, did it have teeth?”

    “Many,” Brokenshire answered, thinking back to it. “Though, more like a beak. And it had wings and these odd things sticking up from its head. It was covered in fur and feathers, with bright red eyes. Was perfectly silent till we came down the stairs, and then it lunged at Wipple.”

    “Did it bite him? Scratch him? Or did it go for the throat?” Cantilupe asked, casually tying the lizard up like a cowboy tying up a calf. Brokenshire blinked, surprised by this, before answering: “It bit him, cut right through his sleeve the poor bloke. But it ran before anyone could catch it, after chasing us out of course. Ferocious little bugger.”

    “It’s not that big then?” asked Lavender, walking to help her mentor pick up the wiggling and irritated lizard. It was only then that Brokenshire realized just how bloody long that animal’s tail was.

    “It was about the size of a small child, and just as angry,” he explained, earning a polite chuckle from Jekyll. Cantilupe and Lavender shared a look before the senior zoologist said: “Go get our net traps and that unfortunate mouse from a week ago.”

    “For bait Missus?”

    “Indeed. We’ll also need a rope and a medium cage. Oh! And make sure you grab our defensive jackets.”

    “Yes ma’am.”

    “Defensive jacket?” Brokenshire asked, eyes going wide. Cantilupe chuckled and easily picked up the trussed up lizard, “Of course! Can’t have everyone getting injured now can we?” He stared as she strolled off, waving to them. “Do wait for us dearies, we won’t be ten minutes I promise.”

    A beat passed and Brokenshire slowly turned to look at Jekyll, who smiled pleasantly after Mrs. C. When he noticed the Sergeant’s stare he said: “Yes? What’s that look for?”

    “You expect them to catch this thing?” he demanded, gesturing with his hands. “They’re-”

    “They best suited for this job,” Jekyll interrupted before his friends could be insulted. “Sergeant, would I lie to you? Honestly?”

    Brokenshire squinted suspiciously, and did not answer, watching as Jekyll turned with a nod and strolled towards the door. He hesitated to follow, only hurrying after when something barked in a cage nearby and made him jump.

~

    They arrived at the house in Soho a little less than half an hour later, and it was still raining. Though, doctor Jekyll was so kindly sharing an umbrella with the Sergeant as he silently opened the door to the house, allowing the Rogue Scientists entry. He’d already warned them that the creature was loose in the house, and upon arrival they received confirmation that it was still contained within the house. Every so often a horrifying shriek would come from within when one of the officers spotted it through a window and it darted away before they could get close.

    Lavender and Cantilupe singlehandedly carried their gear in, and even as Brokenshire insist Doctor Jekyll wait outside, he insisted with equal confidence that it was of utmost importance he was a part of it, to act as a sort of overseer. Lavender whispered behind his back that he was just as eager to see this strange creature as she and Cantilupe were! Brokenshire had to marvel, you wouldn’t have even been able to tell!

    In any case, the house was very quiet as Cantilupe and Lavender surveyed the first rooms, setting up a few traps and going to do a search of the house. Their footsteps could be heard along the floor as Jekyll and Brokenshire waited patiently in the meagerly furnished parlor. It smelled of pipe smoke and something else foul, the silence set everything on edge, and it  clearly unsettled Brokenshire, for he kept a hand on his nightstick and couldn’t manage to stand still.

    Jekyll, on the other hand, appeared wholly calm, writing in a small notebook without a word as he listened to the room around them.

    There was a small scratching noise and he shut his book. Brokenshire visibly stiffened at the sound, grip becoming tigher on his weapon as he slowly looked towards a dark hall, the source of the sound. Out of the corner he saw Jekyll stand, placing his tophat aside and unclasping his cloak, holding it out before him like a blanket. Was he going to catch this thing as one tries to catch a stray cat?

    Did he not see the wound on Constable Wipple?

    The scratching sound came again and Brokenshire watched as Jekyll approached the hallway, silent as the creature he was watching for. If he was afraid, it was impossible to tell.

    Well, until a creature lunged from the darkness in a black blur with red eyes and sent him stumbling back with a shout. Brokenshire stepped back in shock, watching it slam first into Jekyll’s cloak and then into the doctor himself, sending them both falling back. Though he tried to wrap it in the blanket and contain it, sharp taloned feet tore through the fancy dark fabric as it flailed and screeched.

    The Sergeant stood frozen unsure what to do as it suddenly leaped from Jekyll and darted behind a sofa. The doctor rolled over onto his knees, looking a bit startled with a nasty looking scratch across his cheek, and a tiny grin tugged at his mouth. He pulled off his gloves and coat, throwing them both aside and picking up what remained of his cloak before approaching the sofa.

    “Sergeant, the other side, if you would,” he asked politely, voice as charming and polite as ever, as if they weren’t after a creature that had just attacked him. Brokenshire nodded firmly, not quite sure why he was following orders, and stepped around the couch. Whatever it was hissed at him and backed away, its glowing red eyes narrowed, the strange antennae on its head bent back in anger.

    Brokenshire knelt, staring at this black, feathered creature with curiosity, not noticing as Jekyll reached behind the sofa and grabbed it. With a sharp pull, he pulled it out by the leg with a horrific shriek, only managing to hold it for a second before a clearly powerful wing smacked him in the face and caused him to drop the creature in surprise.

    It scrambled to its stubby, turkey-like legs and ran at Brokenshire, he gasped and raised the nightstick in defense.

    Only to lower it in surprise when this small, black, fluffy thing didn’t lunge, instead darting at his feet and trying to hide behind him. It seemed to be cowering like a child behind his rain cloak, still wet from before.

    Jekyll sat up and spit a single black, fluffy feather from his mouth. His clothes were covered in dust, normally neat fringe a fluffy mess, and he had multiple scratches on his arms and face. Despite this, he wore a wide grin like nothing Brokenshire had seen before, eyes sparkling. “It’s a chick!”

    “This thing is a chick?” the sergeant asked, utterly dumfounded at how the child-sized animal at his feet could possible be a chick. Jekyll stood, dusting himself off, eyes wide with awe, “Look at the feathers, they’re all fluffy and only a few primaries have grown in! The beak is still soft, but sharp enough to-” he paused, as if listening to something, before chuckling and standing up a bit straighter.

    And suddenly the mask was back on, or so Brokenshire noticed as Jekyll began to dust off his clothing. He had just had a glimpse of the real Henry Jekyll, and had nearly missed it in his fear of the animal that was very clearly afraid and cowering behind his legs.

    “It’s, just scared, is all I meant to say,” Jekyll said coolly, smiling and gesturing slowly with his hand. “Kneel slowly, keep your hands open, and put the nightstick away.”

    “I’ve dealt with frightened animals before Doctor Jekyll, I can handle it,” Brokenshire said, lifting his cloak a little and slowly kneeling to be on an equal level with this strange creature. It seemed startled, and shied away from his touch at first, but it didn’t bite or claw when he tried to smooth down its fear-fluffed feathers. In fact, after a few pets, it let out an oddly human sounding chirp noise, head tilting to the side.

    It was, bloody adorable.

    Of course the sergeant would never admit this, not in front of his men and especially not in front of Jekyll, who was now able to pick up the creature.

The women zoologists came running moments after the sounds of scuffle had died, and Mrs. Cantilupe let out a delighted sound upon seeing the creature in Jekyll’s arms. She and Lavender acquainted themselves with the creature, who seemed much more comfortable now that it wasn’t being chased and knew these strangers weren’t going to attack it. Its bright red eyes looked to Brokenshire though, as if it were curious

    It took some coaxing, but eventually Lavender could get it into the cage they’d brought. Her mentor remarked that its feathers seemed similar to some american birds, perhaps it had been smuggled. The whole exchange had Brokenshire staring at her and at the mussed up Jekyll with a look of confusion and subtle fear.

    They weren’t afraid of this thing or the prospect that strange American creatures were being smuggled into London, in fact, they seemed thrilled to meet the little devil. (What else could it be?)

    Before long though, they’d loaded the boxes into a carriage, gathered their supplies, and the zoologists certified that there was nothing stranger in the house than some large mice. Brokenshire kept silent when his men asked him where the creature was being taken, because he didn’t quite know. He’d overheard the older woman, Cantilupe, remarking how she was going to send a letter to an associate in the states about him coming to take the, oh what had she called it, Noctuidae sapien?

    He was going to call it a crow-child.

    Jekyll sent his Lodgers on their way, watching with intrigue as the police investigation picked up where it had left off, and only after a few minutes did Brokenshire realize he wanted to speak.

    His hair was still mussed from the scuffle, but the cut on his face had stopped bleeding. “Sergeant, thank you for coming to me with this, I do imagine you’ve just assisted my friends in their science quite a bit. Not every day you find a creature from the States in London after all.”

    “Yes well, I didn’t want anyone getting hurt unnecessarily,” Brokenshire answered, folding his arms behind him, giving Jekyll a meaningful look. The gentleman laughed, “You mock me for my impulsivity, but I was merely following my, better judgement. Better I put myself in harm’s way than someone getting hurt on accident.”

    “You knew you risked injury then?”

    “Of course! No action is without risk Sergeant, it merely takes a bit of, prodding, to take that risk,” Jekyll said, nodding. And again, the mask slipped from Jekyll’s face. His smile was a little wide, his eyes held a dangerous twinkle that dared to ask: What if? And just like before, it was only for a second that he could be seen.

He donned his hat, opened his umbrella, and set off into the rain. “Good afternoon Brokenshire, perhaps I will see you again soon under better circumstances yes?”

[eponymous-rose]

Weird request, but you summarize stuff. I've only caught a few episodes of Critical Role but am curious about Kima and Allura. What's the story there? Don't worry about spoilers, I'm never gonna get caught up on this show anyway, but I am curious!

Oh gosh! Okay. This actually dovetails nicely with some logistical stuff I need to figure out for reasons, so hey, here’s my really long-winded summary (and other folks, please chime in if I get something wrong, there’s a lot of ground to cover here ranging from pre-series to right up where we are now):

So, basically, Allura (human wizard) and Kima (halfling paladin of Bahamut) were part of the same adventuring party, and their exploits culminated in a big ol’ boss battle fifteen years before the start of Critical Role against an ancient red dragon named Thordak. Their party managed to seal Thordak in the Elemental Plane of Fire, but in the process three members of their party were killed (Sirus, Dohla, and Ghenn), leaving only Kima, Allura, and their elementalist friend Drake Thunderbrand standing at the end of it.

In the wake of the battle, the three of them went their separate ways, despite the romantic relationship that had developed between Kima and Allura. Allura accepted an offer to become a member of the Council of Tal’Dorei in the capital city of Emon, but Kima wasn’t exactly keen on a political position and traveled north to the holy city of Vasselheim instead, where she worked with Highbearer Vord, the leader of the Order of Bahamut. Kima mentions in early episodes of the show that she and Allura would still try to meet up every few months for drinks, but their lives were pulling them in different directions. 

Matt’s made it pretty clear that Allura still spent a lot of time thinking about Kima during those years---in his playlist he posted way back in 2015, he says of Allura: “So long as protecting the realm means protecting this one person, then all the toil and challenge is worth it.” Kima also wound up struggling a lot with her faith in the wake of all the evils she’d seen, and frequently butted heads with Highbearer Vord and the more straitlaced folks she worked with.

Fast-forward fifteen years, when Kima starts to get visions of a terrible evil brewing under the dwarven city of Kraghammer and rushes in half-cocked. Allura starts to get worried after several weeks pass with no word and hires a group of adventurers that she’s worked with in the past to go find Kima---the adventurers, of course, are Vox Machina, and this push was the impetus for the first on-stream plot arc of the show.

Vox Machina manage to get Kima out of a bad situation in the Underdark, and then they all wind up embroiled in a conflict against a particularly corrupted beholder named K’Varn, who’s managed to get his hands (eye-tentacles?) on a Horn of Orcus and is sort of chilling with his mind flayer pals as a lowkey champion of the god of undeath, which is not fantastic. VM kill K’Varn, and together with Kima (who’d been turned to stone by a basilisk, thus beginning her longstanding pattern of bad luck on missions involving VM) just barely manage to escape via teleportation circle back to Emon.

After a Weekend-at-Bernie’s-esque pub crawl with Kima still in stone form, the party finally manages to restore her, and they all head over to explain the events to Allura. Allura is delighted to see Kima again, and they have a tearful reunion. Kima does travel with VM back to Vasselheim to seal the Horn of Orcus in the Platinum Sanctuary (a temple of Bahamut), leaving Allura in Emon. VM eventually moves on to the next plot, leaving Kima in Vasselheim.

Once VM finishes dealing with the next major arc of the show, the end result is a tiny floating, spinning ball in a forgotten ziggurat under the human city of Whitestone that also happens to nullify all magic for a wide radius in its vicinity. You know, your standard everyday stuff. Completely out of their depths, they ask Allura to travel to Whitestone and check it out while they return home to Emon, a decision that possibly winds up saving her life.

Allura heads to Whitestone and brings Drake Thunderbrand on board to evaluate the situation with the orb. When some of her arcane connections with cities across Tal’Dorei start to go dark, she heads back to Emon to report in to VM at their Keep just outside the city and figure out what the heck’s going on.

She and Drake arrive to find the party in the middle of a very serious argument, on the verge of an all-out brawl, over a magical skull housing some sort of entity that claims to be able to grant any wish. Why is a wish particularly tempting right now? Oh hey, turns out four ancient chromatic dragons, the Chroma Conclave (excellent 80s band name), just attacked Emon, killed most of the Tal’Dorei Council, made a beeline for and destroyed Allura’s home, and are spreading out to destroy most bastions of civilization across the continents of Tal’Dorei and Wildmount. When VM reveals that the leader of the group was Thordak, the same dragon that Allura and Drake barely survived sealing in the Plane of Fire, Allura is in shock.

Allura and Drake head out to the ruins of the Cobalt Reserve in Westruun to try and find some information that could help them defeat the Conclave. VM eventually make their way to Vasselheim in search of allies, and are startled to discover that the city is unaware of the devastation happening across the ocean. When Kima finds out about the destruction of Emon, she’s frantic and her first thought is to find a way to get to Allura. VM manage to assure her that Allura is as safe as anyone can be right now, and Kima joins them on their disastrous journey to the sunken tomb, where they face another beholder and Kima is nearly killed by a long fall in the battle. In the aftermath, she makes her way with the party back to Whitestone, and finds out for the first time that the leader of the Conclave is indeed Thordak---the news puts her into an uncharacteristic state of panic.

While VM travels around in search of ancient weapons to help defeat the Conclave, Allura eventually turns up in Whitestone, which has become the unofficial seat of a new war council. By the time VM shows up again, having killed one member of the Conclave, Kima and Allura are both there to greet them. At this point, the two of them have moved into a house in Whitestone together (there’s a cute moment where Vex knocks on Allura’s door early in the morning and Kima answers it in a too-big nightshirt) and are helping to coordinate studies of the orb under Whitestone as well as the defense of the city itself, once it becomes clear that forces are amassing there. Kima takes out a would-be assassin who comes after them in their home (part of an elaborate rakshasa revenge plot; Gilmore pulps his assassin, it’s a whole thing).

Kima winds up accompanying VM on their mission to Draconia to kill Vorugal, a member of the Conclave, and discovers before leaving that another member of the Conclave, Raishan, has been (in disguise) in Whitestone for some time, that she knows all of their secrets and could wipe out the last form of resistance in an instant, and that the party has worked out a very shaky secret deal with her, since it turns out they all want to kill Thordak. Despite Scanlan’s attempts to modify her memory to make her forget this revelation, Kima knows about the infiltration, and agrees to move forward with the plan regardless. The party manages to kill Vorugal and return back to Whitestone, at which point Raishan’s identity is revealed, for better or worse, to the entire war council.

Kima and Allura go to Fort Daxio to help coordinate troops for a final push against Thordak, who has settled down over the city of Emon and is slowly shaping the land into some sort of super-evil volcano. As you do. At Fort Daxio, Gatekeeper Xanthas, a former ally from Emon, reveals himself to have switched allegiances to work with Thordak, and manages to cast a Feeblemind spell on Allura. VM shows up in time to take Xanthas out and reverse the effects of the spell, at which point an extremely shaken Kima and Allura have their first “on-screen” kiss.

After Thordak is defeated, and Raishan escapes an attack from VM in the immediate aftermath of the battle, Kima and Allura accompany VM to Raishan’s hideout on the Island of Viscan, which once served as the home base of long-dead necromancer Opash. After some shenanigans with gravity-reversal and a whole lot of undead bodies, the party battles Raishan, with both Allura and Kima coming very close to death in the fight. In the aftermath, the party tries to escape the island with their dead and wounded... and discovers when their first spell fails that this island has some defenses in place against transportation magic.

Allura eventually manages to put down a teleportation circle and step through, but Kima hangs back a second, telling VM that something looks off about the circle. Before anyone can decide what to do, Kima resolutely steps through after Allura, and they both vanish. Keyleth manages to scry on them and discovers that they’ve landed in open ocean somewhere, which is bad news if you happen to be in full plate armor, like Kima. Through a complete fluke of a dice-roll (natural 20 on a perception check), Keyleth manages to spot them from the beach---swimming in the wrong direction and already exhausted---and Vex shoots out after them on her broom. 

She grabs Allura, Allura grabs Kima, and bookish-wizard Allura, zero-strength-modifier Allura manages to roll a natural 20 on her strength check to hang on to Kima until they get to safety.

In the aftermath, Allura and Kima are helping to put things back in order in Emon, ensuring together that more shadowy organizations like the Clasp don’t make too much of a bid for power in the chaos. When VM heads out on their next adventure, Kima makes sure to tell them that if they see Highbearer Vord, they should just pretend they haven’t seen her; she’s staying with Allura.