#{ ;;verse - DUNGEONS AND DRAGONS - Your Turn to Roll! }

[isekaioracle]

Tag Drop 1!

[iridescentprose]

quest—xenk yendar x fem!reader

summary; being frenemies with xenk

author's note/ warning(s); just fluff; i'm not well versed in dungeons and dragons lore. most of my knowledge comes from the recent movie adaptation. please enjoy!

*header pictures do not belong to me*

The boisterous chatter within the tavern ceased the moment your boots hit the floorboards. Patrons - drunk on ale and joy, or full of whatever obscure meat was on their plates - turned to look up at you. For once you understood their stares. After all, you were clad in blood, guts, and what you hoped wasn't vomit while standing next to an infamous paladin who had not a scratch on his armor.

Despite slaying the same beast together, your partner - who followed you around like a fly to a corpse - survived the battle unscathed. Even his blade was stain-free thanks to some unexplainable magic you didn't bother to figure out.

"Just a water, thank you," you said to the waiter behind the counter as you settled into one of the wobbly stools. You didn't bother to wait for Xenk as he maneuvered his way through the crowd that formed along the walk way. Behind you, everyone was hovering around him, thanking him for slaying the beast that could've threatened a slew of homes.

"Thanks," you muttered to the waiter as you picked up the cup he slid towards you. You took numerous gulps from your drink as the crowd began to dissipate to give Xenk some space. You turned your back to them and found yourself face to face with the waiter and his finger tapping on a slip of paper in front of you.

"Tab's getting full," the waiter tapped the slip of paper etched with numerous food and drink items. Next to them, were accumulating prices, expenses you had yet to pay.

You read the list, some charges dating back from months ago when you were low on funds. You slowly shook your head, unable to find the words to come up with an excuse. As of now, money hadn't been your number one priority.

"Then put it on mine," a voice said from behind you. You could see his noble smile he was bearing even though you didn't turn to look at him. Gingerly, he took the seat next to you as the waiter nodded and sheepishly tucked the slip of paper away before you could protest.

"Thanks, but...you didn't have to do that," you said once the waiter was gone and Xenk had settled at the bar. He looked around, taking in your surroundings as if he were a newborn who was just seeing the world for the first time. You rolled your eyes playfully. "I'm not going to be able to pay you back."

"Consider it a gift," he said, his eyes finding your face after he seemed satisfied with what he saw around the tavern. You look down at your cup, avoiding his gaze.

"You can't keep giving me gifts."

He frowned and rose an eyebrow. "Why not?"

You turned to face him, a look of slight annoyance settling on your features. "Because—"

Because you had no means of paying him back. Because you weren't friends, but rather partners completing the same quest. Because once the quest was complete, you wanted no reminders of what could have been.

But every excuse that you had on your tongue vanished as his hand settled upon on your chin. Lightly his fingers guided your face towards his, as if he was trying to get a better look at you.

"Because, why?" he asked, eyes pleading to know. His thumb swept across the skin of your cheek, swiping away whatever grime had been left over from the creature you split in two.

Your annoyance, now gone, had been replaced with bashfulness. It was as if he had caught you doing some wrong and you were in for another lesson on nobility and righteousness.

But as the noise around you faded and his face drew closer, you were convinced otherwise.

"Y/n?" he whispered, shaking you out of your trance.

"Yeah?"

"You might want to take a breath. I'm not sure how much longer you can hold it."

Not realizing you had been holding your breath, you felt the heat rise to your cheeks. Xenk, who found your flustered nature amusing, smirked mischeviously before a hearty chuckle fell from his mouth. Playfully, you swiped his hand away from your chin and lightly shoved him in the shoulder.

"Forget it," you said before gulping the last of your drink. You rose to your feet and made your way towards the exit with the heat still rising to cheeks and a smile teasing your lips.

And like always, he followed after you.

[watercoloredlie]

Eddie & Nancy’s Book of Dares(Edancy Week Day 7: Free Choice)

Summary: Nancy leaves a book with a handwritten challenge within it in the local bookstore. Eddie finds it and is intrigued enough to join the challenge.

Prompt: Free choice

Warnings: Fluff, a little angst

Notes: Premise loosely based on the book series Dash and Lily’s Book of Dares

Eddie was merely minding his business walking around the local bookstore checking out the inventory. He already had a small stack of books in his hand. A Tolkien, two DnD books, and a Stephen King. On particular shelf nestled between two larger books was a dark red hardcover journal. Eddie picked it up flipping through it not expecting to find anything only to be surprised when he saw handwriting in it.

Hi. If you’re not interested in a challenge or doing dares then put this back on the shelf where you found it.

Still here? Excellent. If you can’t solve this puzzle then please put this book back on the shelf. Still interested? Great. Your first clue is a Russian tragedy that is a classic and also shares the same initials as one of the US States. Don’t use the internet or ask for help. What’s the point of the challenge if you get the answers that easily?

His brows furrowed at the words, but he couldn’t help being curious. Deciding to try, he walked around the store again only to stop when he saw Dustin and Mike talking.

“Hey. You guys wouldn’t happen to know who this belongs to, would you?” He asked holding up the journal.

“Nope. You can put it in the lost and found if you want.” Mike shrugged despite knowing exactly who it belonged to.

Dustin shook his head. “I mean, we sell journals, but not that one in particular.”

“Yeah alright. Thanks guys.” Eddie turned and walked around the store again.

He missed the look that the two younger boys shared. The handsome metalhead stopped in front of a shelf of Russian literature and grabbed a particular copy of Anna Karenina. It’s initials were AK which were the same as Alaska. This copy of the book had a scrap of paper sticking out. He took it and placed the book back on the shelf.

Well done. Now it’s time to roll for initiative and find the next clue.

Eddie grinned to himself and made a beeline for the section of the store where the Dungeons and Dragons books were located. He searched the shelves only to find another scrap of paper in one of the player handbooks.

That’s a hit! Okay admittedly I know how to play, but I’m not that well versed in the game. Anyway for the third clue, look for the green light and you might find her.

He walked around the store searching the shelves unsure of what he was looking for. Then he saw it in the classic fiction section. There was a scrap of paper peeking out of a copy of the Great Gatsby.

Not bad. Congratulations you’ve completed the challenge. Now finish this sentence in the journal. All I want for Christmas is?

Eddie tucked the paper scraps into the journal then grabbed a pen from a display. He considered his answer before starting to write in the journal.

All I want for Christmas is for Christmas to be over. All of this fake cheer is obnoxious though I will admit it is fun to see my friends be excited over whatever they got for the holiday.

You mentioned dares earlier so here is one for you. Go to the coffee shop and order a loco hot cocoa. It’s nothing bad, I promise. With how cold it is outside, it will warm you right up.

He placed the book back where he had found it then went to the register to buy the four books he was going to buy initially. Later that day, Nancy Wheeler walked into the store and picked up her journal from the shelf. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw the unfamiliar handwriting. Dustin and Mike shared a look as she left the store clutching the journal. Her smile faded when she read what was written. How could this person hate Christmas? She went to the coffee shop ordering the drink which earned her a knowing smile from the barista.

Okay you got me there with the loco hot cocoa. It was the spiciest hot cocoa I’ve ever drank, but it warmed me right up so thank you. I also had a brownie with it. I highly recommend.

Well now it’s your turn. Go to Family Video and rent the Christmas Movie that describes your attitude toward Christmas. You know the one.

Nancy left the book where he would find it in the coffee shop. They missed each other by mere minutes. He grinned when he found the book. It was a fun thing, but he was also cautious in case someone was messing with him.

“How the Grinch stole Christmas? Really? Wouldn’t Black Christmas be more your speed?” Steve asked with a chuckle as he rang him up.

“Yes. It’s a long story.” Eddie smirked playfully at him.

“Sure it is.” He slid the movie over to him.

Ha Ha. You’re real funny. Grinch is a good movie though. Listen, I don’t hate Christmas because I’m a grump. My mom died when I was a little boy and, well, I was never that well off wealth wise. So Christmas over the years was pretty bare. I, uh, don’t really know why I’m admitting that to you.

As for your dare, there’s a toy drive tomorrow at the library. They’re looking for volunteers, but you’ll have to dress the part.

Nancy slipped into family video finding the journal on the shelf behind a copy of the Grinch. Thankfully it was a solo shift for Keith and he was on break at that moment. She left the store and eagerly opened the journal once she was in her car. Her heart broke when she read his words. She then drove over to one of the stores in town buying some toys before bringing them to the library. Nancy donated the toys then signed up to volunteer for the toy drive. To her amusement, she discovered that she would have to wear a Santa’s elf costume, ears and all.

I’m sorry for your loss. It’s understandable why you don’t like Christmas then. In uplifting news, the toy drive was a success. Very funny with the elf costume by the way.

Go tell Santa Hopper what you want for Christmas and you just might get a special gift in return.

He walked out of the library with the journal in hand. Of course he had read her note as soon as he could. Eddie sighed as he got into his van driving over to the Starcourt Mall. He met his bandmates there and explained the situation to them.

Gareth grinned playfully at him. “So the only thing standing in your way of getting your dream girl is Hopper’s lap.”

“Shut up! Look, it’s clearly the jocks messing with me. I go up there, make an ass of myself, and they all get a big laugh.” Eddie scoffed.

“What if you’re wrong and it’s legit?” Jeff pointed out.

He grumbled unsure of what to do. Glancing around, he didn’t really see any of the jocks waiting for him to show up. Eddie sighed giving in and walked over to where Hopper was sitting as Santa. He was last in line and Santa Hopper glared at him. A quiet whispered threat was passed from the Santa to Eddie.

“All I want for Christmas… is to know if this girl is for real or if someone is messing with me.” Eddie admitted quietly.

“She’s real.” It was all Hopper said in return.

Eddie was handed a little gift bag by Joyce as he walked away. Confused, he sat down on a bench and looked in the bag. There was a Tupperware filled with Christmas cookies and a little Santa hat. On one side of the hat, the white felt was embroidered with sparkly gold thread spelling out Nancy. A soft smile appeared on his face.

I’m glad it was a success. Hey, elf girls are cute although that might just be the Tolkien fan in me talking. 

That was humiliating, but thanks for the cookies, Nancy. Attached is a mixtape. I dare you to listen to the whole thing.

On the mixtape written in his scrawl was Nancy’s Special Mix. It made her smile. Nancy listened to the mixtape and was surprised to find that she was enjoying it. There was something familiar about the singer’s voice, but she wasn’t sure what it was that she was recognizing. After listening to it, she grabbed a pen and started to write in the book.

Thank you for the mixtape. I really enjoyed it. The singer is really good. Okay full disclosure, my brother and his friend were the ones who came up with this whole thing. They thought it would help me get a boyfriend. Silly huh?

Even though I don’t know who you are, this has actually been pretty fun so thank you for taking part in it.

Eagerly, Eddie flipped open the book and read the now familiar handwriting. His heart sank when there was no dare. Was this Nancy’s way of ending their fun? An idea then struck him and his tongue stuck out a little in concentration as he wrote in the book again.

I’m glad that you’re enjoying it. I hear he’s singing tonight with his band over at the Hideout. I dare you to go. Maybe I’ll see you there.

Hey I don’t mind. I don’t think it’s silly. I’ve actually had fun too. It’s made the holiday season more bearable, at the very least.

Nancy was unsure, but she went to the Hideout anyway that night. There weren’t that many people there so she stuck out like a sore thumb. It made her a little nervous. At ten on the dot, Corroded Coffin took the stage. Of course she recognized the lead singer. It was Eddie Munson. How could she not recognize him? When the band started to play, it was mostly metal until the last song of the set.

“This one’s for you, Nancy.” Eddie spoke in the mic and then started to sing.

Her blue eyes widened as she recognized the song. It was from her mixtape. Had she really been writing with Eddie this whole time? When the song finished, she clapped for the band. Eddie took a long drink of water after setting his guitar down then hopped off the stage. They met each other halfway. 

“Nice to finally meet you, Nancy.” Eddie gave her a playful grin.

She blushed as she looked at him. “Did you know this whole time?”

“No. Of course not. I didn’t know until I saw you in the crowd.” He admitted with a chuckle.

Nancy smiled softly at him. “Well I’m glad that it was you.”

“I’m glad that it was you too. Wait that means Mike and Dustin knew this whole time. Those little shits.” His big brown eyes widened in realization.

She laughed and surprised them both by leaning up to kiss him. Eddie smiled and kissed her back. It was better than both of them had expected. Maybe Christmas wasn’t so bad after all.

[ficsforgaza]

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[ushioink]

(Part 1 of Careful,)

The world’s a little quiet today, or maybe she thinks this way because the AC is on full mode. Her earphones are pressed on her ears, and her fingers are running over the laptop keyboard in light speed. Everything she’s doing is an example of tranquility. She’s trapped in this sphere of solitude, and she loves it. The library is entirely empty, too, considering it’s early in the morning for torture. But whatever, she likes when things are clear and monotonous.

Of course, every good thing is bound to the burden of decomposition, and so her quiet is disturbed. At first, it’s just a body that’s hovering over her table. A large body. Enough to darken her desk and wide enough to block the cool air of the AC gushing over her. She’s intending to ignore it, but she’s not exactly good at that. So she takes off her earphone and pauses her monstrous clicking. She looks up, glare taking place over the dead shapes of her bitch face, ready to confront the person stripping her of her cocoon. Only, she doesn’t see a stranger.

It’s a man, and she’s not familiar with men - usually she’s just a virgin in all aspects of the opposite sex - but he’s not a face well forgotten. He’s one of the dudes that people whispered about in the hallways, and even her, an antisocial not-give-a-shit girl has heard about him. She’s a bit mortified about his sudden station over her table, but she forgets about her curiosity to resume her glaring. He winces a little because of her harsh glaring, especially when she pulls her earphones so she can hear the sound of her eyes going absolutely still in the dangerous motion. Besides him stands another man, a taller one, and he, too, sparks recognition in her well-organized mind. But she doesn’t give this other man attention; she only looks at the shorter guy.

“I have a proposition.” He says, trying to keep his voice steady. She’s a little - a lot - annoyed about his demanding tone, as if he’s used to dropping requests that take no for an answer. So, she scoffs.

“No.”

His eyes, which were narrowed down in a way to intimidate her (as if) widen a little, and he splutter. “You didn’t even hear what I have to say!”

“Don’t care, still no.” She returns back to her speedy typing, just to have something to do and to irritate the guy. God knows how well-versed she is in the effects of ignorance. She hopes he too, is immensely annoyed by it.

His narrowed eyes go a little wide, before he narrows them again. He looks down at the unoccupied chair across her chair, then at her, who’s still pretending to be immersed in her ridiculous writing, before pulling the chair out from under the table and plopping his pretty little butt over it. She doesn’t give him the attention he desires, not even when he releases a big sigh of relief. She keeps on clicking on her keyboard, completely unbothered. This makes him annoyed for some reason. No other female has ignored him like that when he graced them with his pretty, dark presence, and no other person has taken it so far to pretend he doesn’t exist, either. He’s damn well-aware of what he does to people, both genders, whatnot with his beautiful kohl-ridden eyes, his thin, pink lips that perfectly curl into a pout that’s deadly, and his killer body. What’s wrong with this woman? He actually came here by the stupid, stupid convincing tactics of his friend to beg for help, and he’s being swiped off like dirt? Ridiculous!

He curls a fist over his mouth like a fake posh man and clears his throat, making her look at him with her deadly, iridescent eyes. “What if I offered you ten thousand dollars for catching a mice trap in the Dark Dungeons?”

The Dark Dungeons is a place in the university’s library where everyone just pretends doesn’t exist for some reason - probably because of all the boring past researchers of the graduated students stacked there - and ultimately ended up being deserted. A lot of students are scared to venter there alone, recapping fake tales about pale ghosts and demons that are there to hunt them. She’s not afraid of such stupidity.

“Okay,” she shrugs casually, pausing in her rapid typing and closing her laptop. The student blinks at the quick gesture. “Pay it in cash?”

He’s dumbfounded; of course he is. He hadn’t anticipated his dumb proposition (which isn’t even real) to be met with such ease. He continues to blink, “But you just said no.”

She shrugs again, crossing her fingers over her laptop like a CEO waiting for a colleague’s destruction. The fist he’s holding against his mouth is put down on the desk. He wipes his expression clear of his flabbergast. She doesn’t allow him to say anything, though. “It depends on the proposition, really, and my capabilities in doing it. I can catch a mice trap in the presumptuous Dark Dungeons, and I will agree on it for ten thousand dollars. This is, knowing you, the only good offer you’ll be willing to give. I don’t want to hear the rest, because I know the rest, and I refuse the rest beforehand.”

“So you know who I am?” He sounds delightfully surprised. It’s the only thing he caught from her monologue, the fact she knows who he is despite only discovering about her recently.

She gives him a look as if he’s an idiot. Then, she returns to her work and opens the laptop. His cheeks flush at that look, still surprised that she’s not even remotely affected by him. He finally gives his companion, a tall guy who casually slipped on the seat beside him and practically occupying the entire space with his large body, a helpless look; and his friend merely shrugs disinterestedly.

“Hey,” he changes tactics by knocking on her desk with his knuckles, his eyebrows slightly growing narrowed as he frowns.

The man’s a little bit upturned by the mischievous twinkle that goes on like a bell on her eyes as she ignores him, a spark that would have gone unnoticed if he hadn’t been sitting close to her. But it’s strange nevertheless to see her, a woman so poised, a woman full of confidence and empathy, show such molecular emotion. Mind blowing

“Look at me. Hey!”

She looks up at him, the twinkle shifting into deep, rooted annoyance. “Yes? Is there anything of significance that you want to tell aside offering a proposition to a complete stranger?”

He’s dumbfounded yet again. “Is that a way to talk to someone? What a potty mouth you have! Do you use it to kiss people?”

She’s the one dumbfounded now, fooled at her own game of ignorance. “Excu.. excuse me! Potty mouth! Me? I’m a polite person, thank you very much. I’m just in tune with reciprocation at the moment.”

He sounds extremely frustrated when he says, “What the fuck does that even mean?”

The companion of the rotten boy clears his throat before she can retaliate, and she gives him her attention for the first time since he sat himself next to his friend. His face is long and droopy, lazy, and his eyes are squinted as if he’s trying to make sense of her tiny figure sitting across. When he speaks, his voice is husky. “Yah, don’t yell. We’re in a library.”

They glare at him, their eyes holding icicles. He huffs. “The last time I’ve been here, the librarian kicked me out for knocking one of his shelves. If he knows that I’m here again, which he will by your loud voices, I’m going to be staked. I don’t know about you guys, but I’ve seen a lot of vampire movies. Staking seems really hurtful.”

They shoot him disbelieved eyes. He puts a hand over his chest. “I have a sensitive heart. A wooden stake will make my delicate organ scar. That’s not good on my resumé.”

The first guy gapes at his friend, whereas she shakes her head in disappointment of being a part of this conversation. She goes back to her work while poking her tongue on the insides of her cheek, trying to restrain her growing fury.

“What?” The tall companion looks at his friend weirdly, “You haven’t seen the resumés I’ve seen online. They have applications out of this world. What if my beautifully intricate heart is required? Don’t want it marred!”

“Why the fuck would anyone ask for an image of your heart, Yeol? What job even requires the internal lookout of your organs?” His friend rebuts.

“How’d I know? I’m not logged in to alljobs.com!”

“Maybe you should, so you’ll be prepared to have a reasonable answer to your dumb shenanigans!”

“Will you both just shut up!” She snaps, smashing her laptop closed (again). They turn to her, blinking. “Why the fuck you’d even sit in front of a person you don’t know and have this conversation while they’re listening?”

They look scorned, cheeks going red. They regretfully look down at their laps, fiddling with their fingers.

“Now,” she exhales from her nose angrily, resembling a red-faced dragon (she doesn’t actually blush, but the running fury that’s gobbling her up leaves her face looking like a swollen tomato). “What the fuck do you want?”

The smaller man opens his mouth to say his demands once again, but she rudely raises an open palm up, squinting. “Speak gently. And slowly. And politely.”

He glares but complies. “I have something to ask of you, a proposition. Actually, you’re not a stranger, at least not as if now. I know who you are.”

She quirks a sharp eyebrow up, unrelentingly and very judgmentally. She’s not the type of person to be swayed over anything, definitely not over this man, too.

He rolls his eyes. “You’re one of the smartest students in our batch, and I kinda have been going through a lot with one of my assignments, so this idiot here told me to ask you for help.” He points to his companion, who salutes mockingly using two of his fingers. “It’s about the aftermath of war, and the effects it leaves on the intermingled classes of eighteenth century China. I’m very bad at writing shit. I confuse my statements; I fail at rearranging my paragraphs; I suck at choosing intellectual perspectives; and I most definitely can’t be on the neutral side to the point of sounding extremely radical. Would you help me write my research? It’s worth a bit of my marks considering I didn’t take the midterm for, ahem, certain reasons,” there’s a soft hue of red that glows in his cheeks, and feeling his blush, he scratches them with his long nails awkwardly.

“No.” The cute color doesn’t deter her at all, and she begins to collect her laptop and books to leave. Or, pretending to. She does not have any thought about leaving, not even when there’s a handsome stranger trying to invade her tranquil space. But, regardless of her wants, such gesture made the man nervous. He snaps his head up, eyes wide, and pushes himself to his feet quickly to stop her from leaving.

“Why not?” He begins to be angry. “Is this because you know who I am? Does my... Does our reputation precedes us?”

She gives him a cooly leveled look. “I only give favors to friends. You’re not a friend. Very simply. I couldn’t care less about your reputation, which does in fact precedes you. People tend to talk about things they don’t understand. The juiciest the gossip, the more people want to talk about it.” She pauses a little, confusedly staring at them. “Don’t you guys know that? When you wear these clothes, pierce all parts of your body, flash all of your tattoos, and walk around intimidating people, they will talk badly about you. Huh, I thought you guys are smart enough to discover this much about the nature of people.”

Whereas he looks startled out of his way with the sincerity in her words, It’s the companion who takes the time to speak. He asks her, his eyebrow raised. “Why’d you think we’re smart?”

She smirks at him, and he’s surprised that it’s actually playful, not malicious. “It’s only those that rebel the constant demands of society that have their heads teetered towards either intelligence, or insanity.” She slings her bag on her shoulder, her face going back to its previous expressionless slate. “Bye now.”

She doesn’t leave. She merely just stands and watches them watching her. It takes the two university boys a second to understand the implications behind her words, and when they do, they groan. They stand up, albeit slowly, and the shorter one dares to shoot her a grumpy, malicious glare, before walking away. The taller one simply tilts his head downwards in a respectable nod before following his friend.

Once they leave, she smiles, and the curl of her lips makes her face radiant, a whole lot flowery than the actual blanket of monochromatic nothingness that usually sticks on her all the time. She sits back down on her seat, opens her laptop, and begins to type again.

-

Oh the long road. Oh the long road. She sighs in her head, her legs heavy and unbalanced, almost sending her to the ground with how weak they feel. After almost six hours in university, with three classes and breaks in between, she’s finally done with all the nonsense that she, daily, has to face. Actually, university hasn’t been on her mind before in high school when she was in her senior year for this exact reason. She is too lazy for something overloaded like university. But, if she is being honest with herself, she doesn’t see herself in any place besides university, especially if she wants to have a ‘decent’ job. So, she tries to succumb to the voice compelling her to move forward, and ignoring the one that tells her to fuck everything and flop on the ground, dead.

A sound calling her name stops her in her long, angry strides, and she turns to the back to see her friend, Sami, waving for her, smiling so preciously that actual stars appear on her eyes. She’s not oblivious to the crowd gathering behind Sami, all males (and some females) staring at her with eyes twinkling with hearts. She reluctantly wave back, and Sami comes running towards her, beaming once she’s standing in front of her.

“You’re heading home?” Her friend asks.

She hums without a verbal consent. Her friend beams again.

“Great!” Sami loops their arms together. “Lets go together, and while we’re on the way, buy me a cocktail.”

“Alcohol this early? And why should I buy you one?” She raises an eyebrow up in ridicule, even though she already knows the answer to her rather dumb question.

Sami rolls her eyes. “No, an actual cocktail, with fruits and all. And you should buy me one because I’m your humble friend who asks nothing of you at all.”

“You ask for things all the time,” she narrows her eyes, and points at Sami’s earrings. “I bought you those earrings,” she points at her bag. “And I bought you this bag. And those shoes. I might as well buy you a house to live in if I’m already this much husband material.”

Sami grins, beaming, and her grip over her arm tightens. “It’d be so great if my future husband actually pays for all of my things. I’ll be a pretty, studious, working housewife that do things for him and accommodate all of his precious needs. Aw, I miss him already.”

“You should be careful not to say this in front of another woman that isn’t me.”

Sami blinks cluelessly. “Why? I didn’t say anything infuriating, did I?”

She pats her head sympathetically, her hand calloused despite the gentle, sardonic gesture. “Not at all. Not at all.”

They walk out of the university’s large grounds with Sami the one doing most of the talking, the bouncing, and the gleeful intervals; her grip tight around her arm, and her soft laughter surrounding them whole. She wouldn’t say that she was entirely comfortable about the concept of having a friend, but it has been two years now since she knew Sami, and she began to understand that in order to enjoy something beautiful, you have to watch it burn first, which’s why she, despite not liking it, disposed herself of her antisocial behavior, and stuck around with Sami.

Upon the huge gates of the university, she catches sight of the two students who had interrupted her morning study with their obnoxious presence. They’re standing in front, one of them - the tall one - is leaning against the large beige wall beside the gates, and the nuisance - the one requesting - is crouching on the floor right beside him, a fake cigar made of paper in between his fingers. They’re already staring at her, anticipating her exit. When her eyes meet the dark ones of the crouching guy, he smirks, his pink lips thin and inviting. He puts the fake paper in his mouth, pretending to inhale, and then pulls it off to exhale loudly, his eyes suddenly half lidded. He’s staring at her. She stares back, then she narrows her eyes, ticking her chin to the side in a silent request for him to look away. His smirk widens, and he doesn’t look away; his eyes invading her soul to the point she feels something scratch at the surface of her skin, begging to be released.

She scoffs. And almost as if he’s hearing her, he waggles his eyebrows teasingly. She blanches, disgusted, and her facial expression catches Sami’s attention.

“Who’re you looking at?” Sami turns to follow her friend’s eyes before she can look away, furrowing her eyes upon seeing the two boys. She turns to her friend curiously; nervously. “Do you... do you know them?”

She’s quick to shake her head, “Nah, I don’t know them outside the rumors that I heard circulating about them. I think one of their names starts with a B? Or an H? Anyhow, I don’t know who they are.”

“Why are they looking at you?”

She shrugs. “Beats me. Probably think I’m a visible, touchable time loop or something. That’d be cool. Have you ever seen Doctor Strange?”

Sami stares at her as if she’s an alien. “What on earth are you talking about?”

She shakes her head. “Never mind. Let’s quicken our pace. Maybe we’ll lose them in the crowd.”

As if hearing their words, the two boys jump to their feet (the one standing merely bouncing around) and they follow after them like two little creeps. They don’t say anything for a while, like announce their already large presence, and she ticks her head backwards with raised eyebrows, meeting their amused - yet frustrated - faces. She tilts her head, silently asking them about what the fuck they’re doing, and the shorter one of the two shrugs, the taller one smirking a little, the cigarette roll that was wrapped around the other’s mouth now in his. She looks away.

Sami notices her friend’s head going forward and backward, and turn around to give them a funny look, a little nervous for some reason. She looks back at her friend and pulls at her sleeve, a frozen smile on her face. “They’re following us.”

“If there’s an ice cube, large enough to have legs and is following me, and the world is so flabbergasted by it’s appearance, but you’re only concerned about taking your way home without interruptions. Would something happen if I gave it attention? No, you know why?“ she leans closer to Sami and with her big, wide eyes, she whispers. “Because it’ll melt away.”

Sami shakes her head in exasperation. Even after two years of being friends with her; she’s never getting used to her random thought processes. Either-way, Sami doesn’t feel entitled enough to say anything against that, and although she releases a little grumble from her chest in irritation at the skin contact, she doesn’t remove her arm away. Smiling, she leans her head on her shoulder.

“Yah. You can’t just pretend we don’t exist.” The shorter one says, or yells really.

His friend scoffs, and it’s strangely shudder-inducing because of his low grating voice. “We’ll follow you home if destiny calls.”

Sami lifts her head to peek at them, then quickly looks at her calm, astute friend. “Are you not going to answer?”

“A bird could constantly peck on my window and I wouldn’t shoo it away. I’m too lazy.”

Sami’s eyes mellow down, and her lips smile. “But that’s exactly what you do, sweetie. You can’t handle disturbances, especially when it affects your general surroundings.”

“You’re right. I’m going to kick their ass.” She stops in her gait, turns around, and glares; Sami stopping next to her. The two university boys pause in their strides, blinking.

“Question, exactly why was I chosen among the high grades receiving bastards in our class?” She raises her eyebrows up. “Is it because you think I’m easy? Or I’m a woman? Is it because you think I’m nice?” She says nice as if it’s a heinous word created for her personal offense.

The boys share a confused look. Then, the tall one clears his throat, readying himself for the paragraph he’s about to spout. “I’ve never once thought you’re easy, and neither have Baekhyun. We’ve seen the way you talked back to the teachers, and man, do you have a temper. I’m actually a bit shaky right now because I’m asking this favor of you. I’m not a misogynist, man. Why’d you make me something I’m not. love women. I love all wonen. Perhaps a little too much,” Baekhyun, the short guy beside him, is nodding his head sadly, “I’d have told Baekhyun to choose Dahyeon if I thought she was as responsible as you are. But the girl’s a klutz. She ruined a paper of mine once. Won’t let her do it again,” he then tilts his head, his confused face getting graver. “I’m sure as fuck you’re not kind, or nice. I wouldn’t have already been going through emotional trauma just by the thought of approaching you, yet, here we are.”

“Here we are.” Baekhyun spreads his arm with a surrendering look flashing on his handsome face.

Sami turns to her friend and analyzes the stone cold expression on her face. She hesitates, for a second, before she says. “They do have a point. You’ve traumatized half of the population in this university.”

“We still have two more years for you to traumatize the rest.” Baekhyun comments cheekily. When she shoots him a glare, he winks. She’s a little surprised. She hadn’t met anyone who winked at her deadly stare-offs. People are terrified of her, not amused of her.

“How many pages do you want your assignment to be? Mine’s going to be a minimum of eight, considering it’s only a meager homework, so I’ll try to shove your own pages between my breaks to save time.”

Their eyes go wide. Baekhyun actually gulps, unprepared for the challenge. “You write eight pages for an assignment worth ten marks?”

She raises her eyebrows. “You’re here begging for help for this stupid assignment, so I guess we’re both pulling up our shits, right?”

He shuts up.

It’s the tall one that answers. “Any page number is fine. Take your pick.”

She nods, “You’ll have five pages, then. I take breaks in between my classes. I have two-to-three classes for five days aside Saturdays and Tuesdays, so we’ll write two pages every week until its due date in three weeks’ time,” she takes her phone and shoves it in the chest of the short guy. “Give me your number so I text you the hours I’m free on. I don’t give a shit if our schedules overlap. When I tell you to come, you come, with your laptop and all of your writing necessities with you. One mistake and you’re out, get it?”

Baekhyun sweats, especially since her expression is deadly serious and her hand, which is still clutching her phone on his chest is cold, deadly so. He gulps anyway and nods. “Thank you, really. Appreciate it. Is there anything I can do for you to repay the favor?”

She smirks, and pulls her hand off of his chest after he accepts the phone. “A bad boy who knows how to say thank you? That’s a new one. And keep the favor until after you deliver your assignment. I’m not sure you’ll wanna give me any favors after I’m done with you. Say, are you willing to pay money?”

He pales. “I’m poor as fuck, ma’am, expected of a university student, right? Please say yes.”

She smirks again, amused of the panic in his eyes. “Relax, idiot. Just wanna check something.” She turns to the tall one. He’s staring right back at her, eyes wide and brown hair fluffy. For a bit, she’s taken aback by the actual fact of how gorgeous he is. Wide, almond eyes, soft hair, tall girth like a skyscraper, and she fucking loves skyscrapers, the taller, the better. He’s wearing a weird mesh of jeans, a t-shirt, and a jacket, but he’s also wearing a sweater on top. He must be sweating in there. His wide eyes turn a little confused when she merely gapes at him, and she notices. She clears her throat, and rolls her eyes so the spectators don’t notice she’s a weird bitch.

“What’s your name?” She asks coldly. There’s a strange warmth circulating her body, but of course, she ignores that.

“Sorry?” He splutters.

She lifts a sleek eyebrow up, holding herself from smirking widely. “Your name,” she points at Baekhyun, who’s blinking down at her phone like it’s a foreign industrial scam. “This moron’s Baekhyun. Kinda noticed you mention his name. What’s your name? I’m a bit curious to know about the chaperone’s name, considering they’re always so ignored and unappreciated in movies.”

He looks a bit flustered, as if he hasn’t noticed he has been a chaperone all this time. He wipes the slight vulnerability that flashed earlier, twirls the paper stick in his mouth, and gives her a mock salute. “Chanyeol, ma’am, but don’t bother memorizing it. We wouldn’t be seeing each other enough for the need of that.”

She doesn’t comment on his words even though she’s curious. She merely tells herself he’s as weird as she is, probably a little arrogant, but of course not as her. No one’s as arrogant as her. She sits on the throne of arrogance. Her parents once thought she had narcissistic syndrome, those assholes, but dismissed it later on when she gave them enough evidence she wasn’t. She pays attention to Baekhyun, coughing to alert him of the actual fact he has been taking too much time typing gibberish on her phone, and not his phone number. She swears to God he probably failed to reach her contacts. He looked like a dumb loser up close like that, but she didn’t want to judge him so severely. A guy who winks at her instead of shit his pants must be a dumbass, but again, she doesn’t want to judge.

Baekhyun looks up from her phone upon her cough, smirks his annoyingly attractive smirk, and juggle the phone towards her (after locking it, for some reason) she tries catching her phone, and thankfully she succeeds. She glares, about to scold him about the degrading act of her precious gadget, when he all but announces.

“We’ll go see our own way now. Thank you for such precious moment. Perhaps we’ll be able to create more while avoiding chopped heads, from your part, of course. May the grounds open up to present you with a fortunate gift,” he does a whole theatrics of bowing, while simultaneously taking a step back, bumping into an unamused Chanyeol. “Adios, my lady.”

He turns around to Chanyeol, who whispers something to him. They begin to walk away, and Baekhyun says something to the taller guy, in retaliation, which earns him an eye roll. Not taking this lightly, Baekhyun jumps - to reach the tall giant - so he can wrap his arm around his neck, and pulls him into a headlock. Chanyeol doesn’t fight. He lets himself be dragged like a deadweight doll, like he’s used to such abuse, and she shakes her head. Chanyeol seemed cool with his indifference, but perhaps he isn’t the one in total control here.

Sami calls her softly, and forgetting her only friend for a bit - the two boys have extremely large presence - she turns to her. She offers a small smile, showing a dimple to her left side, and Sami beams.

“I’m not even going to ask what the heck just happened,” she offers her a hand, Sami; and she looks at it weirdly. “Ready to go home?”

Sighing, she accepts the hand, and agrees to be dragged home. Sami looks down at their hands; and thinks a little, her brows going all intersected. She shrugs, cooly intertwining their fingers together. She doesn’t even blink at the gesture, having been used to it. Out of character, the only thing on her mind at the moment is those two, strange university men.

-

Author Note:

So?

We haven’t got anything grounded yet. We still have a lot to cover! The personality of ChanBaek is beautiful, stick to see our dumb yet gorgeous boys.

Also, if you haven’t noticed already, our OC is freaking DANGEROUS! Chanbaek are in for a ride!

[targaryenimagines]

May We Meet Again

Daenerys Targaryen x Sister!Reader

Word Count: 2,121

Summary: You know what's going to happen. You know that with utter certainty, but at least you get to gaze at your angel for one last time. (Continuation of Blackened Heart, for @hains-j)

Warnings: Incest

Drip

Drip

Drip

The sound of a steady flow of water hitting stone kept you awake. Your eyes staring resolutely at the wall in front of you. Tracing over every minute imperfection with keen eyes. You could see the abrasions a pointed object made against the rough surface. What you could clearly see as a last ditch attempt at freedom. Someone who hadn't yet given up on life trying to keep it in their grasp.

You, however, couldn't bring yourself to care if you lived or died. Each breath that you took seemed more like a task, a burden then the neccessary action for you to survive. Each inhale and exhale was laced with the feeling of fatigue and an overall sense of tiredness.

Leaning your head against the cool stone of your prison cell you allow for your eyes to slip shut. Your body relaxing, as much as it could, into the ragged embrace of it. The less refined parts of it digging into your back, but you didn't try to move away from it.

No, the pain and how uncomfortable it was kept you awake. It kept you aware of all of your surroundings. Every minute sound registered in your mind and was stored. You have no idea how much time has passed but by now you were well versed in the sounds of the dungeons. Clearly being able to decipher what sounds should and shouldn't be there.

So hearing the sounds of clanking metal approaching you causes your eyes to open. A small smirk pulling on your features as you continue to stare at the wall. Refusing to allow any emotion to appear on your face.

You had allowed them to capture you. You weren't going to allow them the pleasure of seeing you beg.

Even though there was nothing to beg for.

Moving your head in a lazy arch you stare at the door of your cell as the clanking halts in front of it. Blinking slowly as it is thrown open and the man who jailed you stands with a torch grasped in his hand. You watch as his eyes assess you with nothing short of contempt, but you only give him a smile when he stops at your face. You couldn't bring yourself to care what he thought of you.

You couldn't bring yourself to care what anyone thought of you.

Not anymore.

"Stand," he says, his voice coming out in a harsh bark that simply causes your eyebrow to raise. Did he really think barking like a dog would intimidate you? You had dealt with the Dothraki and raging dragons, his little dog imitation was cute but it was far from effective.

You watch as his face grows redder and redder the longer you stay seated. For a moment your worried his head might explode, and you didn't want the smell of a dead body in your already small living space.

Not wanting to deal with the stench of a decaying body you stand with a sigh. Straightening your back in a quick stretch that helps relieve some of the tension. Moving towards the man you could see the arrogance already brimming in his gaze. You had to restrain yourself from rolling your eyes. Did he truly think he was that intimidating? You have met children with a more frightening presence than the man standing before you.

Keeping your annoyance in check you raise your arms in front of you. Already knowing what was going to happen next, and a moment later the cool caress of metal graces your skin.

You're soon being led out into the hallway of the dungeons. Your attention not on the path you were going, no you had no use for that, but rather the doors that marked the hallway. You wonder how many people were behind them? How many people were simply wasting away in the damp recesses of the Red Keep?

You hadn't realized you had slowed until a sharp tug reminds you of your position. Quickening your steps you're soon climbing the stairs towards the outside world, and you couldn't help but feel a jolt of happiness at the thought.

Seemingly sensing your mood your jailer changes his course and takes you down another dark hallway. Leading you away from the sunlight and the cool breeze of the day. You couldn't help but be disappointed that you wouldn't be able to see the sky and feel the wind for one last time.

"A monster like you doesn't deserve to feel happy. You deserve to burn for what you've done," the man sneers as he tugs your chains harder. Even though you're right behind him.

A cold smile works its way onto your face, and your voice comes out in an icy whisper. "Didn't you hear? I don't burn, so the place you want me to go would be like heaven."

He only hisses in response and you suppress the urge to smirk. People were so easy to get a rise out of and this was just another example. Tell them what they don't want to hear or show them what they believe in is false, and they will turn into children. Raving, foaming at the mouth children but children nonetheless. Which is why you've always been amused by the social proceedings that happen before a trial. The intricacies that must come into play. Talking about it just enough to gain interest, and with that interest a buzz of excitement would run through the city. Talking about the person being tried and what they believe the verdict would be.

Never even knowing that the verdict was already decided before the trial even began.

You know that you were going to die, but at least you were going to die without any regrets.

Well, besides one. You never wanted to hurt her but the casualties of war and all that. It was inevitable that one of you in the end would be hurt. You were never going to end up together and that's a reality you lived with for months before this moment. Before you did what you did, you knew that Daenerys was never going to be yours. She had already started to give her heart to another.

Even though she still had all of yours.

Maybe that's why it was so easy to do what you did? People have called you a heartless monster and maybe they're right. You didn't have a heart and that's because it was in the clutches of your sister.

You're not even sure you want it back. You just hope that Daenerys will be happy with the new role she's in. You hope that despite everything she gets her happily ever after, because she deserves it. Even though it's not with you, you hope that everything turns out alright.

No one in the world deserves it more than her.

Soon your feet meets the refined stone of the inner part of the Red Keep. The polished stone glowing underneath the torchlight. It was a sight that twisted your stomach into a knot. Your ancestors walked this very hall. Your father walked this very hall when he was still king. When he was still killing hundreds of innocent people.

Like father like daughter, you suppose, as you continue down the hall. Only this time you were being tried for your crimes, and your father never was. Even though he deserved what he got, and so do you.

You deserve to be killed for what you've done, but even knowing that you couldn't bring yourself to care. Couldn't bring yourself to scrounge up any emotion, besides tiredness, into existence. There was nothing but emptiness in your body. Thoughts and feelings you know should be there were absent. Leaving you a husk of who you used to be.

You used to be the benevolent one. The one who hated the thought of violence and unnecessary bloodshed. The one that everyone thought was weak.

Look at me now, you think wryly and even your thoughts have a poisonous edge, you weren't quite sure when that happened. You're not sure when anything truly happened anymore. All you know is what you are now.

Empty.

Raising your gaze when you stop, you couldn't help the confusion that sweeps your body. Your brow furrowing in thought as you stare at the door in front of you. A much smaller door than what you were expecting for the Great Hall. Meeting the gaze of your jailer you could see annoyance in his gaze, but before you can say anything he knocks on the door.

The sound resonating, dully, down the hall.

Within a moment the door is swung open and Daenerys stands before you. Her chest rising with the force of her breathing and you felt worry start to worm it's way into your heart. The first emotion you have felt in a long time.

Again before you can speak Daenerys grabs you by the arm and pulls you into the room. Not even giving the man a chance to speak before she slams the door shut. Her eyes are frantic as she looks at you. Clutching your face with a desperate air that only causes your worry to grow.

Then, finally, she speaks her voice coming out as a sob. "They're going to kill you."

Understanding washes over your body as you stare at her. Meeting her tearful gaze with your own, unaffected, one.

"I know."

You watch as your nonchalant answer enrages her, and you weren't even surprised by the slap that happens a moment later.

"How could you be so unfeeling about the fact that you're about to be killed?" Daenerys asks, her voice coming out in a hiss. Her eyes starting to blaze with the familiar fire you grew up with.

Putting your hand on her shoulder to calm her down, you begin to speak. Trying with all your might to get her to see. "I knew the moment Rhaegal's fire hit the first house that I was sealing my fate. I've known what was going to happen the moment those shackles went onto my wrist. Every breath that I've taken since has only been because I'm on borrowed time. The only thing I'm surprised about is how long it's taken for me to get here."

"Then why didn't you run? Why didn't you leave if you knew what was going to happen to you?" Daenerys asks, her tone once again taking on a desperate air.

A sad smile pulls at your lips as you cup her cheek. Feeling your heart warm when she nuzzles into it. Brushing some of her tears away you gather your thoughts. Trying to desperately stop the breaking of your own heart.

The heart that was returned to you the moment you were in her presence again. The moment you saw how much she still cared for you.

"I stayed because I promised that I would never leave you," you say, dropping your voice down to a soft whisper. "I promised you that I would never abandon you, and I wasn't about to then."

"Even if it means you're going to die?"

"At least I get to see you one last time before that happens, and I deserve to pay for my crimes Dany. I deserve what's coming and at least I get to see my angel before it does."

You watch as tears start to steadily fall down her face now, and without a second thought you wrap your arms around her. Happy that you were able to because you had been released from your shackles moments before Daenerys had opened the door.

Bringing your lips to her ear you begin to coo sweet nothings to her. Like you used to do when nightmares plagued her. Telling her that everything was going to be okay, and that no matter what you would always be by her side. Nothing would ever, truly, make you leave her.

And as you stand in front of the crowd of people crying for your blood, you couldn't help but raise your gaze to her. Meeting her violet eyes with your own and you allow a small smile to appear on your lips. Trying to show her that everything would be okay and that you would be together some day.

That even though you were gone, you would always be by her side. In spirit and in strength you would be there.

Even as the axe comes down you kept your gaze locked with hers.

Gazing at the face of your angel for the last time as death comes closer and closer.

Knowing that nothing would ever stop you from gazing upon it again.

[wistfulcynic]

undefined

“...for we all have stripes, and we all have horns, we all have scales, tails, manes, claws and thorns

and here in the dark is where new worlds are born...”

It’s Halloween, when all the weird and wondrous beasts of the world creep out of the shadows and throw themselves one hell of a party.

For Emma Swan and Killian Jones, witch and shapeshifter respectively, it’s a chance to kick back, get high, and watch the mayhem unfold...

Rating: M Words: 1200 (Chapter One) On AO3

To accompany this brilliant piece of art from @allons-y-to-hogwarts-713 for the @csrolereversal, and also I think suiting today’s @cshalloweek theme of Fright Night, we have witch!Emma and shapeshifter!Killian, and a Halloween party that’s literally out of this world. 

-

come sit at our feast

Of course we’ve all heard the stories. Centuries of them, handed down, tales of things that belong to the darkness and the eerie edges of this world. Tales of ghoulies and ghosties and long-leggedy beasties and things that go bump in the night. Of witches and goblins and banshees and djinn, of wendigo and yaoguai, mokèlé mbèmbé and yara-ma-yha-who. They come from every culture and in every land we tell of them. We sing them in verse and scribe them in books, we paint them and carve them and we hide behind our hands in darkened rooms when they leap out from nowhere on our TV screens and we scream with all the breath in our lungs though we’ll later swear we knew it was coming.

We love the stories. We love to be spooked, scared even, love the pounding rush of adrenaline through our veins, our hearts racing, terrified yet always safe, knowing that it’s not real, not really.

Except when it is.

—

She’d put the scarecrow on her lawn. That was the first thing he noticed. Smelt it, actually—pine resin and straw and sweet decay wafting down the darkening streets from at least three blocks away. The scarecrow was on her lawn and there were pumpkins in her windows that had faces.

He paused just outside the gate, a large black dog with chalcedony eyes, one with the shadows until he chose to emerge from them, always felt but rarely seen. At least, not by most.

“This is your fault,” said the scarecrow, in a voice raspy with disuse. Its dead-eyed face turned stiffly on its neck and glared at him with all the feeble power of its clumsy features. Its ratty top hat teetered on its cloth head. “You told her to ‘lean into it.’”

Brightly coloured leaves adorned the porch and candles lit the way along the path that led to it. The gate swung on creaky hinges in the chill breeze. It seemed she had ‘leaned into it’ with a vengeance.

He cocked his head at the scarecrow with the closest thing to a shrug a dog can manage then trotted through the gate and along the candlelit path, ignoring the hollow glare of the eyes that followed him as the scarecrow spun on its wooden stake. If Jefferson didn’t wish to be displayed on her lawn like wares in a secondhand shop then he shouldn’t have messed with her.

Everyone knows you don’t mess with a witch.

She stood in her doorway, framed by the flickering glow of firelight, holding a besom broomstick and wearing a black and pointy hat at a jaunty angle on her head. He wished he could roll his eyes. Perhaps she had leaned in a bit too far after all.

The trio of small girls standing bravely on the porch seemed suitably impressed. The tallest of the three, dressed as Captain America, held out her candy bag with arms that barely shook and the small princess at her side, after a nudge of encouragement, did the same. The smallest girl, almost lost in her dinosaur costume, was too interested in the dog presently absorbing light at the top of the steps to care much about candy.

“Hi,” she said, her brown eyes wide with wonder. He adopted his friendliest expression and let his tongue loll from the corner of his mouth. She giggled.

The tongue loll gets them every time.

He allowed the dinosaur to pet his ears and gave her hand a sloppy lick that had her giggling again. Captain America observed the exchange through narrowed eyes.

“Is that your dog, miss?” she asked.

“Oh, he’s definitely mine,” replied the woman in the doorway, smiling with just a few too many teeth. “He showed up as a stray a few years ago and he’s just so cute I had to keep him.”

He huffed a deep, indignant bark. {Stray indeed.}

The woman smirked at him and Captain America stumbled back, grabbing the startled princess by the sleeve of her dress and pulling her down the porch steps, but the dinosaur was unfazed. “My sister doesn’t like dogs,” she informed him in a quiet voice. “But I love them.” She leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. “You have really pretty eyes. Like the sky.”  

“Eva, come on,” called Captain America, who was by then halfway down the path, clutching her candy bag tightly in one hand and the princess’s sleeve in the other. “Let’s get out of here.”

The dinosaur kissed his head. “Bye, puppy,” she said, and ran after her sisters.

He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had called him “puppy.”

The woman was leaning against the doorjamb, watching the proceedings with great amusement. “I see you’ve made a new friend.”

{What can I say, love? Women adore me, even the extinct reptilian ones.}

She laughed. “Well, you’d better come in before any triceratops show up. You know what they’re like.” She set her bowl of candy down on a chair next to the door, and with a wave of her hand produced a sign that read “Take one, if you dare.”

“I don’t think many more trick or treaters will show up but just in case,” she said, closing the door behind them and locking it with a flick of her wrist.

{And what if they take more than one?}

“They won’t.” She flashed him that slightly-too-toothy grin. “At least not if they know what’s good for them. Catching sight of her reflection in the hallway mirror she frowned and snapped her fingers. Her casual jeans and sweater, the loose ponytail and the absurd pointy hat disappeared, replaced by a dress that hugged her slender form, short and strapless and blood red. Riotous curls tumbled over her shoulders and down her back, and her eyes were smoky black. She smoothed the dress over her hips with a satisfied nod, then turned to him. “Are you going to go like that?”

Spears of bright white light rose from the ground, whirling in a dizzying spiral around him, and when they spun away the dog was a man, with hair as black as his fur and the same blue eyes. “You prefer me like this, then, love?”

“I do,” she purred, pulling him towards her by the collar of his leather jacket and into a kiss that fired his blood. He grabbed her hips to draw her closer, backing her against the wall and plundering her mouth. It was far too long since he tasted her, that rich, dark flavour headier than the finest rum. She nipped at his lips with enough force to sting, challenge glinting in her eyes. With a hungry growl he fisted his hand in her hair, tugging her head back to return the favour with his teeth on her neck. 

“You know, we don’t have to go,” he murmured against her skin. “We could stay here.”

“We could,” she gasped, in a breathless voice that made him ache. “Or we could go, get high as a pair of kites then come back here and fuck until sunrise.”

He ground himself against her, chuckling at her helpless moan, then stepped back with a smirk. “As you wish, my love. Lead the way.” 

-- 

For anyone interested, the full text of the amazing poem quoted in the summary:  If you are a monster, stand up. If you are a monster, a trickster, a fiend, If you’ve built a steam-powered wishing machine If you have a secret, a dark past, a scheme, If you kidnap maidens or dabble in dreams Come stand by me. If you have been broken, stand up. If you have been broken, abandoned, alone If you have been starving, a creature of bone If you live in a tower, a dungeon, a throne If you weep for wanting, to be held, to be known, Come stand by me. If you are a savage, stand up. If you are a witch, a dark queen, a black knight, If you are a mummer, a pixie, a sprite, If you are a pirate, a tomcat, a wright, If you swear by the moon and you fight the hard fight, Come stand by me. If you are a devil, stand up. If you are a villain, a madman, a beast, If you are a strowler, a prowler, a priest, If you are a dragon come sit at our feast, For we all have stripes, and we all have horns, We all have scales, tails, manes, claws and thorns And here in the dark is where new worlds are born. Come stand by me.

― Catherynne M. Valente

[brainbuffering]

They say that there has never been a greater time to be a Nerd. Marvel Movies rule the box office, indie comics are getting full multi series tv shows, Star Wars is back on the big screen, and even Dungeons and Dragons, has become mainstream! With BAFTA and Emmy Award Winners gracing our tables to roll dice and act out fantasy adventures.

Yet at the exact same moment Nerds are told to celebrate, there are those amongst us who have aren’t even invited to the party, those with photosensitivity. It is well known that movie theatres had to provide warnings for the Incredibles 2 because it triggered seizures. Yet it wasn’t the only film that year to do so! It was just the most well recorded. Into The Spider-Verse proclaimed that “Anybody Can Wear The Mask” and yet if you spoke to a photosensitive person they’d tell you that the information for that never came across, since the opening sequence featured so many flashing lights that it practically took them by the arm and threw them out of the cinema by force. And if they managed survived the opening then there were plenty of other strobe affects used throughout the movie to trap down those last bloody blighters who thought they might still be able to enjoy the film!

Other Top Nerd Hits from the last year to feature heavy strobing effects include: Aquaman, Umbrella Academy, Titans, Captain Marvel, Avengers Endgame… essentially every major superhero franchise out there has a big sign on it saying “Photosensitive Folks Back The F Off”. And let’s not even go there with Video Games, I’ve already had to block most company’s twitters because their promotional tweets contain video adverts that make my brain hurt.

Yet, it isn’t all doom and gloom (or should that be brightly lit and causing fits?) in the Nerd World. As I mentioned, live streamed DnD is now a thing! Where you can watch amazing actors pour their hearts and souls into a world of magic and without having to fear for your health from watching it. They’ve become one of the few safe havens on the internet. Some even have comic books out there now, which are proving to be a massive (yes Jody massive) success even outside their existing communities!  

And that’s where this blog post comes in. I am, will full blatant honesty, now talking directly to the wonderful people at Critical Role. Hello! I do hope you’re reading this, you may remember me as That Girl With The Weird Laugh At The Live Show Who Was Totally Not A Chair Travis Thanks For That. Aside from weird laugh, depression, chronic jaw pain and an inability to watch Marvel Endgame without crying, I am also Epileptic, and whilst I personally am not especially photosensitive, there are PLENTY of Critters who are.

After watching the advert again for fully funded animation series, it occured to me that suddenly there may well become a version of Vox Machina that I have to warn people not to watch. The last safe haven on the internet for the photosensitive could very well all go to bust with the casting of just one spell…

The very thought of it breaks my heart. So I feel I have to say something, and it is best to say it now before anything else gets made. Never before have i trusted a company more than to actually listen to me when I say: Please, I beg you on hand and knee, please do not use flashing lights in your new series.

By this I mean:

Please keep the number of flashing lights per second as low as you can. In extreme cases, seizure trigger occurs with 3 - 60 flashes per second, but the more standard rate is 5 - 30 flashes per second.

Please make sure to include a warning before an aired episode if there is going to be flashing lights, and since this is also going to be streamed online, time stamps can be given so as people can skip those scenes, or know to turn away.

Please keep in mind why you are including strobe light effects, and if they actually help tell your story, or is it just for show? Are there other ways you can tell this part of the narrative without resulting to strobe effects? This may require some more creative thinking on the part of the animators, but that’s all part of the challenge of creating a tv series, right? Regardless, you have to way up: Would you rather you got 10 seconds of animation that had flashing images, or would you rather trigger a seizure in someone? These are the questions you need to ask yourself, and I beg you to please do just that because God Knows none of the major animation companies are doing it.

I can go into more technical information here, but I fear it would just come off as overly complicated and kind of preachy.

So instead, I am going to link you to the Ofcom* guidelines on flashing images for television. These can be found on pages 18 - 21 and details everything from frame rates to screen sizes: 

https://www.ofcom.org.uk/__data/assets/pdf_file/0023/104657/Section-2-Guidance-Notes.pdf

Following the infamous Pokemon Incident, TV Tokyo also implemented guidelines for their animation so as not to cause anymore seizures as a result of their shows! You can find an english translation of those guidelines here:

https://www.tv-tokyo.co.jp/kouhou/guideenglish.htm

The Epilepsy Foundation and Epilepsy Action are also both excellent sources should you wish to learn more about photosensitive epilepsy, or any kind of epilepsy for that matter!

And whilst all of this has a focus towards photosensitive epilepsy, please remember that not there are a wide range of other photosensitive conditions out there! And by keeping these things in mind, we can maintain a diverse and welcoming community that is unprecedented within other fandoms. 

A final big thank you to @justepilepsy for providing me with sources and information! They wrote their dissertation on flashing lights in animation, and are in general just a Top Notch Person worth checking out <3

Stay turnt, and don’t forget to love one another,

Anna M.

*Ofcom is the Office for Communications, the UK Government approved regulatory for broadcasting, telecommunications and postal industry within the UK.

[wxldchxld]

Every third question for our favorite fox

Oh y’all better buckle up.

003. Does your character like coffee better, or tea?

Beck’s not allowed to have coffee. The world isn’t ready for that degree of energy. But also she just enjoys tea better.

006. What sense do they most rely on?

It depends on the form she’s currently in. For instance in hawk form it’s definitely sight, fox form most of it’s hearing, bear form it’s smell. In her human form idk if she relies on this the most but she’s probably at least the most aware of her sense of sight?

009. Do they believe in happy endings?

Sure. She’s not really the Debbie Downer type, and she fully believes she could have been truly happy with Harper if not for her penchant for self-indulgence and her overwhelming anxiety when it comes to conforming to society.

012. What makes your character embarrassed?

I’m not super sure this is a feeling Beck has tbh XD. I have a whole headcanon about this somewhere that I’ll link if you can find it. But like, it’s near impossible to embarrass Beck.

015. Are they most likely to fight with their fists or their tongue?

Beck’s not very likely to fight at all. She loves to stir shit up and rile people that she doesn’t like especially (or ones she wants to fuck lmfao), but when things turn into a real fight even if it’s just an argument, Beck’s more likely to head for the door. She dislikes confrontation. It makes her very uncomfortable.

018. Your character wakes up to find that war has been declared. What do they do?

Probably leave. If leaving it’s an option she’ll keep her head down until she has to do something. Like I said Beck doesn’t do fighting unless her back is to the wall and she has no choice. If she had to take some sort of role in a war it would probably be more espionage related.

021. How do they display affection?

All of the ways. TBH Beck is very affectionate even to her friends. Most prominently she wants to touch you and be touched. She’s very touch motivated. But she’ll also make things like knitting scarves and hats or cook food for her loved ones. She spends a lot of time with that person rather than running off into the woods constantly. She’ll sing to you a lot. And basically she’ll just kind of actually listen to you and respect you. Like if you tell her something to do she’ll do it rather than being an asshole.

024. What do they consider ugly in others physically?

Beck’s not super down with bodily hair. It’s one of the big reasons that even tho she’s bi she doesn’t fuck a lot of dudes. She’s never understood why women’s hair is supposedly gross and men can just grow a fur pelt on their legs/arms/chest/underarms and no one says shit. She’s a million times more likely to sleep with a man who shaves. 

She also just finds a general lack of hygiene to be a real turn off. Beck makes it a point, even living in the woods, even without the constant use of magic, to look presentable. She doesn’t like people that look nasty. Wash your hair. Take a bath. Brush your teeth. Otherwise she’s taking a hard pass.

027. What is their idea of perfect happiness?

Beck’s idea of perfect happiness is finding someone who will live with her and travel with her and they can be wild wanderers and roam the world together unburdened by people. Where her familiars are happy and safe and she’s free.

030. Do they believe in the afterlife?

Sort of? Witch opinions vary just as much as ours when it comes to what happens to you after you die, with each theory holding a significant amount of weight. Beck’s in the unique position where she doesn’t often thing about it, because she knows her “death” it’s really going to be a thing. As a feral witch her life, unless abruptly ended through murder, is going to end with her spirit being reclaimed by the wilds, and never returning to the world of men or the life she knew before.

033. Do they keep their promises?

Beck generally doesn’t make promises. If she does, whether or not she keeps them depends on who you are to her. She’s a liar and a manipulator and a con-woman, of course she’s going to break promises. When she makes a witch’s deal (something she can’t break) she makes sure only to make them if they’re stacked in her favor and she’s able to fuck someone over if the desire strikes her.

Beck does try to keep promises she makes to people she genuinely likes. Like there are a couple of promises she made to Fen when they were kids, and even though he’s been warped and changed over the years, she still keeps her promises to him, even though he can’t hold her to them.

036. How honorable is your character?

….I mean not really at all.

039. What do they think is the worst thing that can be done to a person?

Imprisonment, probably? Or being forced to change who they really are.

042. What is their greatest achievement?

She’s a very good shifter and a decent dream walker. These are both abilities she was born with, sure, but having any control over your dream walking takes a lot of time and practice, and most witches never learn to take the form of anything aside from their clan symbol.

045. Does your character have any chronic medical conditions?

Not really

048. Do they have any allergies?

She often claims to be allergic to people who annoy her but that’s 100 percent not true and she’s allergy free. Witches on the whole tend to be very healthy creatures.

051. If they knew they would die tomorrow, what would they do today?

Probably contact Fenris and Harper and Cora and her amma. Mostly Fenris and Harper, because there’s still a lot unsaid between them. She’d want to say goodbye to Cora and her amma, but one of her greatest fears is dying without talking to her brother one last time and letting him know some things. Harper isn’t as dire to where it causes her anxiety to even entertain the thought that she might die without having one last talk, but if she KNEW she was dying, she’d want to try and give Harper closure, to let her know their fall out wasn’t Harper’s fault, and to tell her that she still loved her.

054. Does your character want power or authority of any kind?

Nah. Beck’s attracted to women that have both power and authority, but that’s just her type. Beck herself really has no interest in being in charge of anything. That’s too much responsibility. And the only power she needs is the power to do what she wants—which she has.

057. Has your character ever killed anyone?

It depends on the verse. In her verse for t100 yes she has killed and more than once. Each time was out of self defense and she had no other options.

060. What is your character’s attitude toward education and learning?

As an educator myself her attitude toward education is frustratingly apathetic. She was so severely neglected as a child that paired with her dyslexia she never really learned how to read beyond some very basic shit. Math was always frustrating for her. Service was hell for Beck because when it comes to reading spell books she’s useless, and she’s not particularly interested in learning spells she doesn’t feel will be of use to her. So like, she’ll encourage other people if they want to get an education, but she’s going to take a pass.

063. How well does your character handle difficult people?

Fairly well? I guess it depends on the type of difficult. Like I have a verse with @lcgioned where Beck’s life goal seems to annoy Lexa into an early grave, and yet she gets along with post-dictator Octavia just fine. Beck doesn’t really have a temper, and she doesn’t really do fights, so it’s hard to be too difficult for her. She just kind of rolls with it. 

The kind of person she really struggles with is the one that wants her to conform. The one that tells her she can’t act that way or scolds her because her behavior reflects poorly on them. If Beck doesn’t already like that person, for example she’s more than willing to behave to make Asha look good in my verse with @ashayara, then they can fuck off. Respect from Beck, in large part, comes from affection, and she doesn’t just listen to people because she should or she was told to. She won’t be controlled and micromanaged, so in order to curb her less desirable habits you have to be smart and endear her to you so that she’ll care about what you think. Because in general she doesn’t care how people see her. She doesn’t care if they think she’s strange or crazy, she’s living her gd life and it’s not their business.

066. Does your character prefer city life or being out in nature?

Nature. She doesn’t even tolerate cities well. They make her irritated and sometimes, if she’s subjected to them long enough, physically ill from all the anxiety they cause.

069. What about your character is heroic?

Hahahahahahahahahahaha………. I don’t know?????? I’m so sorry. I don’t see anything about Beck as heroic. Beck won’t like, stand by and let you murder a child or something horrendous if it’s like, right there in front of her. Like if she’s faced with something that she can put a stop to without it being too much of a risk to herself or her familiars she’ll do it, but Beck isn’t going out of her way to help people because it’s the “right” thing to do and she’s rarely going to put herself in danger unless it’s someone she loves on the line.

072. In a Dungeons & Dragons game, which class would your character be? (wizard, fighter, bard, priest, ranger, etc.)

I have never played D&D, so I honestly couldn’t answer this? I would assume either a wizard or a ranger just from what the name sounds like, but Idk.

075. Is your character ticklish?

Very and in all forms so think on that for a good while.

078. How emotionally stable is your character?

Beck lives in a stone fortress of denial that can only fall if you hit her with some major shit. Like she’s obstinately, often unshakably happy. Even if she slips for a few seconds, even in the worst and weirdest situations, she’ll turn around and be a smiling, ball of sunshine after a few seconds to gather herself.

Of course she does have a history of abuse, and especially in verses like ours she’s going through a lot, so she isn’t on as firm a footing as normal, but Beck’s not easy to shake in general.

081. Is your character religious?

Not really? Which is strange because she’s nominally a priestess to her people. But it’s more of a cultural thing. Like, witches in and of themselves don’t worship gods per se, but they hold their traditions and myths and stories in an almost religious regard. It’s very strange, I have a couple of deeper headcanons on it, but to make it kind of simple: Beck isn’t at all what we would likely call “religious” in our society.

084. Describe your character in one word.

If I’m being serious? Asshole. If I’m being nice? Witch.

087. How would your character describe themself in three words?

“One Foxy Lady”

090. How bodily expressive is your character?

I’m… not super sure what this means. If it means is she like, an animated person to talk to then yes. Unless she’s specifically trying to stay calm and use that to influence the emotions of something else, Beck’s never still. She’s almost kind of dizzying to talk to not because she moves in any crazy, major way, but just because it never stops.

093. What is your character’s goal in life?

To be free.

096. How do they move and carry themselves? What energy do they project?

Beck’s energy is best described as “a lot.” She’s got a big presence and like I just mentioned, she’s very active and animated. She doesn’t walk around slumped over, shy, or ashamed of herself. Unless she’s specifically trying to like fade into a crowd, she’s generally someone who grabs the eye because she’s confident and active and engaging to deal with and it’s almost overbearing over long periods of time.

099. Do they talk to inanimate objects?

She’s got a weird concept of inanimate. Like, in her world there are spirits all over the place, and they have a varying degree of sentience depending on the spirits, their age, their type, and the population density. So she’ll compliment a waterfall on how lovely it’s looking today but a small part of her thinks that like the spirits in the area take note of that and enjoy it even if they’re only semi-sentient. She struggles with seeing how those things aren’t transferable to stuff like computers and cellphones. In cities where most of the natural, open spirits that interact with everything without their own ulterior motives have been driven out, there aren’t any “cell phone” or “computer” spirits, but she’s so in the habit of it that (generally when she’s frustrated she’ll forget) she’ll curse at them or ascribe motive to something an inanimate object is doing.

Harper once bought Beck an extremely expensive sports car, only to immediately sell it after Beck amassed 4 speeding tickets in a month and got her license suspended because, as Beck put it, “the car wanted to go fast.”

[hellaoldfander86]

The Grey Mage’s Quest Ch.19

Word Count: 3603

Tags/Warnings: None

Chapter 19: The Mage’s Fate

Karybdis walked behind the guard along the castle hallway, dressed in his very best grey pants, shirt and cloak with swirly silver embroidery around the edge of the hood with matching gauntlet style leather gloves and grey suede knee-high boots, nervously looking at the bustling activity around him as staff hustled from one task to another. He heard whispers in passing of the elusive “High Lords” being within the castle, the mage knowing full well who they are referring to.

He was happy to see the royal flag fluttering above the castle the day after he was rudely dismissed by the Dragon Witch. He wondered what had transpired after he was ousted, obviously his information about the reversal agent was right, as evidenced by the normal Prince Roman and Virgil that had stood in the cave before he was rudely banished back home, not even given the chance to see Patton and Logan take the reversal agent, and see the quest come full circle, let alone find out what the reversal agent actually was.

Perhaps he now has a second chance. By all the whispers, they are all in attendance in the castle, and he is being ushered towards an audience with them all. He will be able to see them back to normal with his own eyes.

He thinks back to the first morning, at what Logan had told him as the rest still slept after what he had forced them to do the night before, “I hold no ill will towards you, neither will Patton, because that’s just the way he is, but Roman and Virgil will be another story.” Logan had also said that he and Patton would plead his case to the Prince if he is undecided of his fate. He prays to any deity listening that his highness is merciful and that some kind of camaraderie was formed within the group of questors. He and Logan had many conversations that were wonderful and mentally stimulating. He did count Logan as a friend at the very least. Virgil had seemed to be less angry at him as they got closer to the end of the quest, the mage had the hope of some semblance of mercy upon his person.

The guard stopped at a large door and entered. “Your Highness, My Lords, the mage Karybdis the Grey, as requested.” The guard says with a bow to the assembled men within the conference room and steps aside to allow Karybdis to enter. “Thank you, you are dismissed,” Roman says and the guard slips back out the door and closes it, and the mage bows before the men standing before him.

Roman clears his throat and glances at the other sides. “You do know why we summoned you here today?”

“Yes, My Prince. I am to answer for the kidnapping and forced the magical transformation of you, Virgil, Logan, and Patton. What I did was inexcusable, regardless of my good intentions. I throw myself at your mercy.” Karybdis hangs his head in shame.

“Yes, well, there are a few things that are in your favor,” Logan says as he steps forward to stand in front of the mage. “You could have just changed us and told us where to go and made us go get it without your help. But you came along and made the journey as comfortable as possible, providing the transportation, food, and shelter along the way, and even helping Patton when he needed it with the poisoned crossbow bolts. For that, we are grateful.”

Hope nestles within the mage’s heart and he looks up into Logan’s eyes, startled to see that they are a deep blue, since both he and Patton opted to wear their “uncharmed” spare glasses, Roman wore a spare sash, and Virgil had on his old hoodie, so Karybdis will see the side-effects for himself. “I am not a cold-hearted man. I would not just send you into the unknown without the means to survive it. It was my duty to My Prince that I help him, even if I was the cause of the predicament in the first place.”

Roman nods and clears his throat, “And that is why I am not going to toss you into the dungeon. Your skills would go to waste there. No, I have a much better ruling for a man of your skills, since you took the initiative to obtain the reversal agent after hearing of its existence. We will call it community service, at the least.”

Karybdis blinks and stares at the royal side, who smiles at the mage. “Your Highness….?”

Virgil and Patton walk over to the mage and each put a hand on a shoulder, “What Princey wants to say is that he has a job for you.” Virgil says with a shoulder squeeze.

“Y-You would offer me a job after I have kidnapped you and forced a previously un-reversible change upon you to selfishly help me in my quest?” The mage stammers, looking at each of the sides individually in the eyes, seeing no hatred or malice within their stares.

Roman crosses his arms. “The rumors saying that the castle mage is in ill health are true. He has been hounding me for ages about getting an assistant. Since you are well versed in the magical arts you would be a perfect candidate. Plus you can help with the fairy visit preparations, since you know them better than I do, and I already have my hands full with other Realm-related issues that cannot wait.”

“I am flattered that I am being considered. I humbly accept.” Karybdis says quickly before Roman can change his mind.

“Yay! Jasper would love the castle stables! All the apples he could want!” Patton bounces and claps his hands, and pulls the mage into a hug, and Virgil and Logan shake the mage's hand after Patton releases him.

“I am sure you want to publish notes about the after-effects of the reversal of chaos water, being the first to see them,” Logan says with a small smile. “Your colleagues within the Mages Collective would be envious.”

“Indeed they would. But I will leave out names, due to the “sensitive” nature of who was changed in the first place. That is something they do not need to know, and never will.” Karybdis says with a nod to Logan. “You have my word.”

“In that case,” Logan turns and retrieves a small stack of papers from the table behind him. “These are my notes on the experience, and I have interviewed the others, and included their observations, and listed the side-effects. Of course, it is only our eye color that was affected, and nothing else, but it still needed to be written down to be thorough.”

“Thank you, Logan. I appreciate this. I was not in attendance when you and Patton took the reversal agent, and I am grateful for the information.” The mage takes the notes from the logical side, and rolls them up and slips them into a pocket inside his cloak.

“Oh! Your Highness, Virgil, I have something for you both.” Karybdis pulls off his right glove and retrieves something from a pants pocket. He opens his hand and within are two small bottles about the size of a man’s thumb attached to thin gold chains, a glittery substance within each. He then examines the first bottle quickly and hands it to Roman, the second is placed in Virgil’s hand. The anxious side looks at the bottle and raises his eyebrows at the mage. “My fairy hutch beds are designed to collect fairy dust. It is part of my agreement with the fae that stay with me, that I can collect the fairy dust that is shed to use as a potion ingredient. It wouldn’t be right if I kept the dust shed by both of you since you had no knowledge of the agreement I had with the fae, as they consider their dust personal property.”

Roman examines his bottle, turning it so the red fairy dust within shimmers in the light. “Thank you, Karybdis. I appreciate your honesty. You could have just kept it since we did not know of the special purpose for the fairy hutch, but you are well versed in the beliefs of the fae, which demanded that you give it back to us, even if we are no longer fae ourselves. You are indeed a good man.” The mage smiles and bows at the compliment from the royal side.

Virgil looks at this bottle, then hands it to the paternal side standing next to him who smiles brightly as he turns the bottle to make the purple shimmery dust sparkle in the light. “Yeah, thanks,” Virgil says as he takes back the bottle from Patton, and makes the dust shimmer himself.

Roman clears this throat and smiles. “Now since that is out of the way, I am sure you would like to see your quarters and meet Foley, whom you will be assisting for the time being. I have to warn you, he is a bit...eccentric. Even if he is in ill health, he still is very sharp mentally. I suggest you keep an eye out. He likes to play pranks. I surely hope that you can give as well as you can take. The old codger needs to learn a lesson, you have my permission to do so. There is a fairy visit planning meeting day after tomorrow after lunch. I will send for you. We will welcome any input you have to offer, especially on where to locate the fairy accommodations within the castle. Use the rest of today after you meet Foley and tomorrow to move into your new quarters. Jasper will be expected at the royal stables when you are finished moving whatever you need into your room.”

The royal side pulls a cord on the wall, and a young man enters, dressed in white, with Roman’s emblem emblazoned on the front of his tunic. “Your Highness.” He says with a bow.

“Take Karybdis to the mage’s wing when he is ready and show him the quarters that have been prepared for him. Then take him to the castle mage.” Roman picks up a single roll of parchment, sealed with red wax, Roman’s crest pressed into the wax in sharp relief. “Give this to Foley.” He hands the parchment to the guide, who bows, then moves to the door to wait for the mage to be ready to depart.

“Before you go, mage. Here is your letter of appointment.” Roman says as he hands a rolled parchment tied with a string to the mage. “This will grant you unescorted entry into the castle. Until every one of the guards knows your face, it would be advised that you carry this with you at all times. I have included a map of the castle, but if you ask any of the staff in the halls for help, they will point you in the right direction until you can get your bearings.”

“Thank you, Your Highness,” Karybdis says with a bow, holding the parchment to his chest. “This job is a dream come true. Ever since I woke up in the forest soaking wet while scrounging mandrake root after being struck by lightning, and saw the castle restored to its former glory walking back home afterward, I had the fervent wish to work within its walls. I will forever count my blessings that my ill-conceived plan didn’t land me in the dungeon.”

“According to Metty, that is where you belong,” Roman says with a chuckle after taking in the startled glances his way after the mage’s statement. “Virgil and I may have forgiven you, but she will take a bit longer. You are greatly fortunate that she didn’t turn you into a frog.”

Karybdis winces. “I would rather stay human, thank you. I think I will tread carefully whenever I hear that she is involved in something. With your permission, My Prince.” The mage bows and walks toward the waiting guide. “Let us go. I am eager to see my quarters and to meet the castle mage personally. Be well.” With a wave to the gathered sides in the room, Karybdis follows the guide out, closing the door with another wave.

“Well, that was a shocking revelation!” Patton chirps with a giggle.

All eyes shift to Virgil. “What?” The anxious side growls. “How was I supposed to know what was happening in the Imagination? I was kinda busy! Stop looking at me like that!”

Patton chuckles. “It’s not Virge’s fault! What’s past is past. How about we take a look at that “High Lord’s Wall” that Roman mentioned. I would like to see it myself.” The paternal side says as he gives the anxious side an affectionate shoulder squeeze and looks at Roman.

“I, too am interested in seeing it,” Logan adds.

“I can give you all a personal tour of the castle!” Roman says with a flourish of his arms. “If you don’t mind the staff we meet bowing continuously, that is. I am pretty sure the whole castle knows you all are here anyway. You all simply must let me show you my home away from the mind palace!” All eyes shift to Virgil, who simply shrugs and flips his hood up over his head. “Okay, Princey. Give us the nickel tour.”

Roman claps his hands and strides to the door, throwing it open and with a flourish of his arms proclaims, “This way, everyone!” and walks out of the room, stopping outside the door to make sure everyone is following and continues on.

Roman shows them the gardens, the kitchen (and his favorite thing to do in the kitchen, sneak cookies out of the cookie jar) “Not as good as yours, Padre. Don’t worry.” as he distributes the purloined treats to everyone. “He’s right. Not as good as yours, Super Dad.” Virgil agrees after trying his cookie. Patton just gives a small smile as he eats his. Logan simply munches on his, stoic as ever, and silently agrees.

Roman continues the tour with his living quarters, the medical wing, and the mage’s wing, having just missed Karybdis as he had left a few minutes before the group arrived. But they did meet Foley, who besides being painfully thin and pale, seemed in good spirits.

“I believe that young lad you appointed as my assistant will do well if he survives the hazing I will be putting him through.” Foley chuckles as he runs his hand over his long, flowing white beard.

“Don’t get full of yourself, old man. I gave him my blessing to put you in your place as he deemed fit.” Roman says as he crossed his arms with a smirk. “He may surprise you.”

Foley waves a hand in dismissal. “Perhaps. I have yet to see anyone go “wand to wand” with me in a prank war and come out not covered in warts.” The old mage perches a pair of spectacles on his nose and looks up. “My goodness! You didn’t tell me that you had brought visitors with you!”

The royal side chuckles. “If you weren’t blind as a bat, you would have seen them when they came in with me.” He clears his throat, and continues, “Logan, Patton, Virgil. This is Foley, the castle mage.”

Foley’s eyes widen. “You brought the high lords to visit me? I am honored!” The old mage shakes each of their hands vigorously. “It is a pleasure to meet you all!”

“I was giving them a tour of the castle, it was only common sense that they should meet you. You are still recovering from your illness, you should rest. We will be on our way now, make sure you take your medicine.” Roman says with a pointed look.

“Yes, yes,” Foley mutters as he shuffles toward his bedroom. “It was wonderful meeting you all. Be well.” He says with a wave as Roman and the sides leave him to rest.

“Here it is, the throne room,” Roman says as he pulls open the huge meticulously carved wooden doors. The sides file in and look around. White marble floor, four huge stained glass windows showing a green dragon, a knight, a red rose and a white horse, Roman’s gold and white throne upon a raised white marble dais with red cushions and Roman’s red and gold shield crest above the throne framed by huge red and gold curtains at one end of the room, a deep red carpet runner starts at the throne and continues down the center of the room toward the opposite wall, where it stops, dividing the room into equal halves. Beautifully woven tapestries along the walls and an enormous gold chandelier in the center with brightly glowing orbs within it casting the room in a warm light. Everyone’s eyes are drawn to the three large shields on the wall opposite the throne, the shields themselves framed by huge gold and red curtains on each side.

“Wow, Roman. These are wonderful!” Patton says with admiration in his voice. “The dogs and cats on mine are adorable!”

“I am quite impressed,” Logan says as he gazes at his shield. “The table of elements serving as the frame is quite adequate.”

“I had a hard time designing yours, Logan. The table of elements around the edge sort of came to me.” Roman says with a smile.

Virgil gazes at his shield, taking in the meticulous way his symbol was recreated with amazing accuracy and the swirling shadows around the edge. “You painted all of these? How long did it take?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Roman sighs, “Maybe a month and a half? I know it took me at least 2 weeks for each, even Logan’s.”

“Impressive,” Logan says while Virgil and Patton pull out their phones and take pictures, and the logical side quickly does the same.

“I would love to get a picture of you on your throne, Roman,” Patton says as he walks up to the ornate throne on the other side of the room.

“Of course!” Roman says as he bounds up to the chair and flops down, one leg over an arm, looking very casual.

“That doesn’t look gay at all,” Virgil says with a chuckle

“Oh really? I could be gayer!” Roman says while putting his hand up to his mouth and “fake yawning” and switches to a piercing “come hither” stare, complete with beckoning hand.

Patton giggles. “Now how about a more serious looking one.”

Roman stands up, straightens his clothes, and sits back down, back straight, putting his hands on the armrests and smiling down at Patton, but then raises his right hand and bends down slightly to rest his chin on his index finger and thumb and softly smiles. Patton takes the picture with a huge smile. “Amazing! Thanks so much for the tour, Roman. I loved seeing your castle!”

“As did I. It was quite educational,” Logan adds with a small smile.

“Yeah. It was really cool seeing where you go when you leave the mind palace.” Virgil says as Roman stands up and walks to a nearby door.

“The pleasure is all mine,” Roman says with a small bow. “You had never been to my castle before, so it was only common courtesy that you get the royal tour!” The royal side places his hand on the doorframe and it glows yellow for a couple of seconds. “Here we are, one door to the mind palace.”

Logan opens the door and sees the interior of Roman’s room. “Please let me know what you come up with regarding a system that lets Karybdis and I exchange correspondence.”

“I certainly will. If you two want to be pen pals, who am I to stop you? Between me and the mage, we should come up with something a bit more reliable than using me as a letter carrier.” The creative side says with a chuckle.

“Hey princey, do you want me to put your bottle of fairy dust on your dresser? I don’t think you want to lose it.” Virgil says as he steps up to the door to go in.

“Certainly, Virge. Most appreciated!” Roman says while handing the anxious side the small bottle he had been holding in his hand for the entire tour.

“I think what we did today was a good thing,” Patton says with a smile. “You did want to keep an eye on him, and this makes the perfect way to do it. Maybe someday I will visit Jasper in the stables! Oh! It’s time for lunch, are you coming with us, Roman?”

“No, I have more meetings to attend, and I will grab something from the kitchen before they begin, but I will be there for dinner. I don’t want to overwork myself. I intend to set a strict schedule to manage all the chaos that is happening right now.” Roman says as he runs a hand through his hair. “I can’t afford to lose sleep or miss too many meals or my mental state will suffer. I will always make sure to make it to the mind palace for dinner, and to get a good night’s sleep.”

Patton nods. “Fair enough. See you at dinner then.”

The three sides file past and enter Roman’s room in the mind palace, and the creative side closes the door after them.

Roman takes a deep breath. Back to managing the kingdom. After getting a sandwich or two from the kitchens, that is.

Chapter 20

[rhodesmystery]

cosmos

July 27, Day 6: Potions

“That seems… quite specific,” is all Penny can say

Seventh year again! And I’m honestly 100% sure Penny could whip up something this powerful by then, too.

There were a small number of people Natasha had expected to run into partway through an afternoon in the potions classroom with Penny. Andre had not been at the top of her list. 

Never mind that it was only a few hours out from the Ravenclaw v Hufflepuff match, and she was quite aware that Hufflepuff wanted to pay Ravenclaw back for the disgrace from the previous year. Surely he should’ve been out with the rest of his teammates, at the very least, doing some last minute checks. Maybe a few strategies.

Instead, Andre had made his way, down into the dungeons, as Penny was busy messing around with high level potions, whilst Natasha herself simply doodled. A new plan of attack for the vault, but it had dissolved into little more than scribbly dragons burning buildings. 

“Andre, hey, what’s up?”

Natasha’s greeting was met with a loud sneeze, that did nothing but have both Penny and her share a smile. “What’s this? Star player, caught a cold? What would your team think?” 

Penny finished with a scandalised gasp, yet continued to carefully stir with her free hand. For his effort, Andre could only grimace, and pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket.

“Har har. I’ve been so careful all week, until Arnold left the window open overnight. And now I’ve got,” with irritation that could only so strong, Andre pointed at his nose, “this!”

“Why don’t you see Madam Pomfrey? You’d be better in minutes with her.” Natasha raised her brows, as Andre took a seat at their table. Only a few other fellow students turned at the scrape of the chair on the floor, and Natasha waved them off. 

“I can’t. Hufflepuff have the Hospital Wing locked up.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I heard you right.” Penny actually stopped then, hand raised over her cauldron. “‘Locked up’? But that’s a—” and then she pauses, side eyeing Natasha. 

With a snort, Natasha finishes her sentence. “Slytherin thing to do, yes, it’s fine. Granted, I haven’t orchestrated such an action. Been trying to play fair this year, after all.” 

“Apparently, Hufflepuff has thrown in with Slytherin. They want us out of the final, and if Hufflepuff beats us, they go into another round with Gryffindor, and Slytherin don’t have to verse us again.” Andre explains, as if the allegiance between the two houses shouldn’t surprise anyone. 

It did, of course. A slow sort of blink leaves both Penny and Natasha, as they survey Andre before them. “That seems… quite specific,” is all Penny can say, while Natasha went towards another stream.

“I’m going to throttle them. All of them. Honestly, what a bunch of pricks. I told them to not interfere.”

Andre looks at her then, a mild amount of alarm. “You knew they wanted to do something?” 

“To Gryffindor, yes. But I put it down before anything could happen. Selwyn wasn’t particularly impressed, so I wouldn’t be surprised if he put Flint up to this.” Oh, they were all doomed once she got her hands on them.

If the conversation was going to go any further, it didn’t, as Andre sneezed once more. “Anyway, back to my original point,” he begins, fishing out his handkerchief once more. He didn’t put it away, this time. “I need something — anything — to get rid of this cold.”

“Pepperup?” Penny was up and out of her chair before anyone had a chance to comment, already fiddling with jars. 

Natasha took the cue, dragging another cauldron closer while edging the one Penny had been working at to the side. “This one done?” It was bubbling gently, a soft sort of sheen to it. Distinctly, Natasha could smell honeysuckle, grass, and something she would consider an open fire. How strange.

“Need it to sit for half an hour before I keep going. I can make this quickly while we wait.”

Penny was nothing if not efficient, with how quickly she got the pepperup potion going. Andre too, was staring at the other one with some intent, frowning as the shimmer of silver seemed to turn pearly. “What?” Penny finally asks, as she’s stirring the contents of her second potion, until it resembled something thick and orange. At least that one smelt familiar and distinct, while the other one just. Kept dragging Natasha’s attention back.

“What’s that one?”

On one hand, Natasha could list the number of times Penny actually looked embarrassed. This was the fourth time. “Nothing, just messing around with a recipe.”

“It smells like honeysuckle.”That comment earns Natasha a very confused look. “… doesn’t it?”

“I—no, I smell broomsticks, and fresh rain…” from how Andre trails off, and with how Penny starts to look particularly proud, Natasha finally wrestles her book from her.

Flipping it around, Natasha pours over the details, before only being able to gape. Had Andre not taken the book off her next, they might never have questioned her. “‘Amortentia’? Penny,” and he sounded so scandalised, that she shushed him immediately.

“I was just experimenting! And I wanted a challenge. What better than… this.” She sniffs then, a small frown on her face, before returning to the bubbling orange concoction. “If you can smell something, that means it’s worked! My last few didn’t go as well.”

“You’ve tried this before?!”

With a shrug, Penny whips out a vial, administering some of the pepperup into it. Handing it over, she can only roll her eyes. “Oh, stop. I’m not going to give it to anyone! I just wanted to see if I could do it.”

Andre stares as he drinks, while Natasha finally snaps her jaw shut. “Penny, I’m am so proud, yet so terrified, of you sometimes.”

“Thank you.” A pause, as steam begins pouring from Andre’s ears. But he no longer needed his handkerchief, and was considerably clearer in the face. What a grand success. Until she smiles, noticeably wicked. “‘Honeysuckle’? ‘Rain’? Who are you two thinking of?”

“No one at all,” Andre answers, a little too quickly, and all Natasha can do is nod, before ending in a stare at the pearlescent sheen of the cauldron. Huh, who was she thinking of, anyway?

[infernosmelody]

BEYOND LEVEL 1 ( BARD ) 

–「 canon 」    due to Mordai not being within a campaign, he will be RP’d based off of milestone EXP, meaning that as the threads go on, he will gain experience and level up !!! But, due to this, his bard ( and later on, his other class, ▆▆▆▆ ) ways, and how the dungeons and dragon’s system works, I want to plan out his actual course of actions and spells, yet, these can change, especially depending on the people he meets and how desperate he becomes. Below the cut, everything will be broken down into sections, from FEATS to SPELLS. 

( official 5e bard information. ) 

FEATS. 

Jack of All Trades. ( lvl 2 )

  Starting at 2nd level, you can add half your proficiency bonus, rounded down, to any ability check you make that doesn't already include your proficiency bonus.  

Meaning that in threads, he can wiggle and bullshit his way out of most situations if he’s desperate enough.

Song of Rest. ( lvl 2 ) 

Beginning at 2nd level, you can use soothing music or oration to help revitalize your wounded allies during a Short Rest. If you or any friendly creatures who can hear your Performance regain Hit Points by spending Hit Dice at the end of the Short Rest, each of those creatures regains an extra 1d6 Hit Points. The extra Hit Points increase when you reach certain levels in this class: to 1d8 at 9th level, to 1d10 at 13th level, and to 1d12 at 17th level.

Meaning in threads, he can attempt to heal others with his music,  ( using his viol typically ) and while it may not heal major wounds it can heal another from any scuffle that they might’ve gotten themselves into. 

Expertise. ( lvl 3 )

  At 3rd level, choose two of your skill proficiencies. Your proficiency bonus is doubled for any ability check you make that uses either of the chosen proficiencies. At 10th level, you can choose another two skill proficiencies to gain this benefit.

aka, this jerk will become double proficient ( expert ) in acrobatics && sleight of hand. 

Countercharm. ( lvl 6 ) 

At 6th level, you gain the ability to use musical notes or words of power to disrupt mind-influencing effects. As an action, you can start a Performance that lasts until the end of your next turn. During that time, you and any friendly creatures within 30 feet of you have advantage on Saving Throws against being Frightened or Charmed. A creature must be able to hear you to gain this benefit. The Performance ends early if you are Incapacitated or silenced or if you voluntarily end it (no action required). 

Meaning in threads, he can attempt to disable charms && fright upon other characters, but only if he has time to do such an action ( as in, pulling out his viol ). 

Magical Secrets. ( lvl 10 )

By 10th level, you have plundered magical knowledge from a wide spectrum of disciplines. Choose two Spells from any class, including this one. A spell you choose must be of a level you can cast, as shown on the Bard table, or a cantrip. The chosen Spells count as bard Spells for you and are included in the number in the Spells Known column of the Bard table. You learn two additional Spells from any class at 14th level and again at 18th level.

Meaning in threads, he has the possibility of learning a few different spells from other classes, but that will depend on the partner. 

COLLEGE OF LORE. 

Bards of the College of Lore know something about most things, collecting bits of knowledge from sources as diverse as scholarly tomes and peasant tales. Whether singing folk ballads in taverns or elaborate compositions in royal courts, these bards use their gifts to hold audiences spellbound. When the applause dies down, the audience members might find themselves questioning everything they held to be true, from their faith in the priesthood of the local temple to their loyalty to the king. The loyalty of these bards lies in the pursuit of beauty and truth, not in fealty to a monarch or following the tenets of a deity. A noble who keeps such a bard as a herald or advisor knows that the bard would rather be honest than politic. The college’s members gather in libraries and sometimes in actual colleges, complete with classrooms and dormitories, to share their lore with one another. They also meet at festivals or affairs of state, where they can expose corruption, unravel lies, and poke fun at self-important figures of authority.

Such is gained at level 3, though unlike many bards of this college, he tends to just listen to the people, talk around the campfire, find out what the people believe. 

Cutting Words.  ( lvl 3 )

Also at 3rd level, you learn how to use your wit to distract, confuse, and otherwise sap the confidence and competence of others. When a creature that you can see within 60 feet of you makes an Attack roll, an ability check, or a damage roll, you can use your reaction to expend one of your uses of Bardic Inspiration, rolling a Bardic Inspiration die and subtracting the number rolled from the creature’s roll. You can choose to use this feature after the creature makes its roll, but before the GM determines whether the Attack roll or ability check succeeds or fails, or before the creature deals its damage. The creature is immune if it can’t hear you or if it’s immune to being Charmed.

An addition to countercharm almost. Mordai will be able to use his sharp tongue to at least distract or completely get out of a situation if it arises. However, this most likely will not be his only use for sharp words, and he can use it as a more so ‘ bluff ‘ than anything. 

Additional Magical Secrets ( lvl 6 )  

At 6th level, you learn two Spells of your choice from any class. A spell you choose must be of a level you can cast, as shown on the Bard table, or a cantrip. The chosen Spells count as bard Spells for you but don’t count against the number of bard Spells you know.

Spells will be listed below, but, they can change depending on who his partner is at the time ( as all threads with each character is in a technical ‘ different ‘ verse unless stated otherwise ). 

Peerless Skill ( lvl 14 )

Starting at 14th level, when you make an ability check, you can expend one use of Bardic Inspiration. Roll a Bardic Inspiration die and add the number rolled to your ability check. You can choose to do so after you roll the die for the ability check, but before the GM tells you whether you succeed or fail. 

It practically gives him the ability to be a show off ( depending on the situation, I will typically roll a dice actually to see if he’d even attempt such a thing ). 

KNOWN SPELLS. 

as someone who’s played dungeons and dragons a bit differently in the past ( where the dm allowed characters to have a ‘ spell book ‘ of sorts of spells that they could use, just not always prepared ) that is going to be the same way as I write them down here. Mordai would have a leather bound book with spells that peaked his interest, considering he has made quite a few deals with sorcerers and the like to gain access to some of their knowledge. Because of this, he will only use spells within reason ( never pulling out his spell book mid - fight ). 

The spells listed below are specifically from his bard spell set. Other spells that he gains from FEATS will be decided within threads. 

CANTRIPS. 

Mage hand, Vicious mockery, Minor Illusion, Mending. 

1st LEVEL. 

Cure wounds, Thunderwave, Faerie fire, Feather fall, Sleep. 

2nd LEVEL. 

Cloud of Daggers, Calm Emotions, Blindness / Deafness, Enhance Ability, See invisibility.

3rd LEVEL.

Nondetection, Leomund’s tiny hut, Dispel magic.

4th LEVEL.

Dimension door.

5th LEVEL.

Dream, Seeming, Modify memory, Legend lore, Greater restoration, Geas.

6th LEVEL.

Guards and wards.

7th LEVEL.

Teleport, Resurrection, Regenerate, Forecage.

8th LEVEL.

Dominate Monster.

9th LEVEL.

Power word kill.

[fanfic-from-a-67-impala]

A Supernatural x Reader Story Chapter Seventeen: The Girl with the Dungeons and Dragons Tattoo, Part One

Word count: 4690

(You can also read it on Wattpad here)

Master Post

Here's when the Charlie x Reader part comes in.  Enjoy!

– Amelia

You don't know how it got stuck in your head, but you have been humming a catchy Katrina & the Waves song since you woke up.  Not even the sharp whistle from the red tea kettle on the stove interrupts the soft, slightly off-key melody.

Instead, you tip the spout of the kettle into the plastic Star Wars-themed thermos, into which you drop a green tea bag and screw on the cover, sliding it across the counter where it rests near a brown paper bag before pouring yourself a mug of the steaming water.

Not even the shuffling of sock-covered feet on the wooden floor stops your humming or the drumming of your fingers on the counter to the imaginary beat.  If anything, the volume increases as the steps get closer and closer.

"Who-o-oah!" a beautiful, similarly off-key voice sings when you reach the respective verse of the song, biting your lip as the smile you hadn't realized had been playing on your lips widens.

Your back straightens when you feel hands sliding onto your hips and across your stomach.  "Mmm," you let out between your teeth releasing your bottom lip.  "'Morning."

"You're up early," she says.  "Thought you were off this morning."

Without warning, or much thought, you whip around to face her in what you hope will be a fluid, sexy movement, only to have the full length of your hair lash across her face.  You are the first to let out a snort in an attempt to cover up a hysterical, uncontrollable laugh as you gasp out an apology, eventually giving up and letting your forehead fall onto her shoulder, which also shakes with laughter.

"Well, that's what I get for trying to be intimate," she pants between giggles as they finally settle and you are left staring in admiration of the beauty of her smile, the sparkle of her green eyes, the tinkling sound of her laugh.

When you first met Charlie, you were living in the cheapest, crappiest motel in town and bussing tables in the bar down the street for minimum wage.  You could never feel completely clean, and the looks you got from your coworkers were so full of pity that it made you uncomfortable, but you couldn't bring yourself to let it deter you.  Anything was better than...

You hand her the paper bag and the thermos, earning you a quick "thank you" kiss on the cheek.

"Don't work too hard," you call, placing a tea bag into your own mug.

She slides her arms into the sleeves of her blue jacket and places her headphones over her ears.  "See ya."

You knew you loved her the moment you saw her.  She was a cute, quirky mystery, the love of your life, even before you got up the courage to talk to her.  You have never felt uneasy not knowing anything about her history, and she never asked about yours, much to your relief.  You could hide the nightmares – you don't toss or turn or cry out.  You just lay there, paralyzed with the fear that you never escaped, eyes closed as if that could keep it from being true.  But if you could feel her there, next to you, it would be okay.  It was enough.

As soon as you hear her yellow moped flying down the street, you take your tea cup to the coffee table, open up your laptop and your notebook, and begin working.

For weeks, you have been scouring the internet for updates on where the leviathans have been and everything they have been doing, trying to prove a theory that would link everything together – that Richard Roman is their leader.  If you can connect him to all of the drugged fast food consumers that seemed to be eaten and replaced by the shapeshifters, it would all make sense.  If you can figure out how he has been managing to take away the senses and reflexes of everyone in the country, you could figure out how to take him down.

Most importantly, you could get Charlie out of his building.

Before you realize that more than an hour has passed, the sun is setting over the Chicago cityscape.  You check the time, not believing how long you have been staring at the computer screen with so little to show for it.

You jump in surprise when your phone vibrates on the end table.

Stuck at the office. Be home tomorrow.

Your brow furrows at Charlie's text message, wondering if she would be all right, wondering what she could be doing at work that would take her all night.

You try to push the thought aside as you close your computer and put your notes away, but it still pulls at your mind while you pull on a tee shirt and jeans, get your make up on, and head out the door.

The walk to the bar where you work is warm enough now that springtime is nearer that you only need to use a light jacket, which you remove as soon as you step into the stuffy, crowded bar.  After you had been working for a month or so, the regular bartender quit, leaving you to pour the drinks.  The hours take a lot out of you, but the pay is enough to keep you on your feet.

• • • • • • • • • • • •

The sun has already risen again by the time your shift is over.  The sun warms the air and makes the top of your head hot to the touch.  It isn't until you are about to enter the lobby of your building that you hear the familiar revving of Charlie's moped racing up the street.

"(Y/N)," she pants after she dismounts.  "We have to go."

"What –" you begin, letting her pull you by the arm across the lobby, up the stairs, and through the front door of your apartment.

"Charlie, what happened?" you ask as she pulls down a bag from the top shelf of the shoe cabinet and frantically begins to stuff into the largest pocket her laptop and jacket and almost everything within reaching distance.

"Charlie," you try again, catching her hand and meeting her eyes, which are so widened in fear that you can see the entirety of her clover green irises.  The sight deepens the pit in your stomach.  "Babe, talk to me."

You see her chest rise and fall as she manages a few deep breaths before nodding.  "Sh-shapeshifters."

Your heart clenches because you know she is not talking about ordinary shapeshifters, and, with all your heart, with every fiber of your being, you want her to never know that there is more to this world than she thinks.

"How do you know about leviath–"

You whip your head around when you hear a thumping sound at the doorway.  No, not the doorway, the bathroom.

Looking back at Charlie, you see that you have already moved in front of her, instinctively, with one arm out as if that could offer any more protection.  Turning back to the direction of the bathroom, even as your heart pounds and your palms sweat, you creep forward to reach underneath the entry table, where you have hidden a loaded handgun, and release the safety.  You don't turn back to see the surprised expression you are sure is on Charlie's face.

"You can come out now," you call, though even you can hear your voice shaking.

For a brief moment, you think that maybe the sound was your imagination, or a neighbor, or the wind, until you hear slow, rubber-soled footsteps on the bathroom tile, eventually crossing over to the hardwood floor of the entryway.

Your heart sinks as soon as you see those legs, wrapped in denim and confidence, even when he sees a gun on him.  Somehow, you know – you know – who it is.

You look up to see his arms, a gun in his hands, raised toward you.  Then his head comes into view, and then all of him.  Not out of fear of the gun, or the knowledge that he would shoot you if he thought you weren't you, but a reflex long-ingrained into your mind, you feel yourself flinch and take a long stride backward.  A look of confusion passes over his face when he sees you before it fades into anger.

Another figure, a slightly taller one, comes up from behind him.  "(Y/N)?" he breathes in surprise.

You have to dart your eyes away from his, the guilt hitting you like a truck.

"That's not (Y/N), Sam," Dean snaps, his eyes not leaving you.

"Dean, I'm me," you reply, slowly uncocking your gun and setting it on the shelf next to you before raising your hands to show that you don't intend to hurt them.  "I promise."

When his expression doesn't change and Sam's looks wary, you, with no sudden movements, reach up to the pocket of your jacket that hangs on the coat rack mounted to the door.  Without missing a beat, both of their guns are pointed at your hand.

"Easy," you warn as you take out a small knife and explain.  "Silver."

You drag the length of the blade across your palm, barely feeling the sting as a dark red line forms and widens, eventually pooling in your hand.

Dean's expression changes from angry to shocked as his eyes travel from your hand up to your eyes, almost questioning.

You give a small nod in confirmation and feel Charlie inch her way toward you from behind before you wipe your hand and the blade on your jeans and flip it over in your hand to hold the hilt in Dean's direction.  "Your turn."

Both he and Sam roll up the sleeves of their jackets and trace a line with the knife in their forearms.

A small part of you, you realize, was expecting, even hoping for, the thick, black ooze that leviathans bleed.

"Look, I'll explain later, okay?" you promise.  "But right now we need to –"

Your words are cut off by the sudden but not unexpected splash of cold liquid in your face, definitely smearing your already smudged eyeliner.  You run your fingers underneath your eyes to brush away the holy water.

"Sorry," Dean mumbles.

You shake your head.  "Don't be," you assure him.  "It's the job."

"What job?" Charlie's voice pipes up beside you.  "And who the hell are you guys?"

• • • • • • • • • • • •

You count Charlie's steps across the living room floor, matching each pace to a stroke of your thumb against your anti-possession necklace.

"So, you're saying you guys are monster hunters?" she asks, uncertainty and nervousness flooding her voice.  "So, there are other monsters?  And you used to hunt with them?"

You nod at her gesture to the boys.

"Why'd you quit?"

As what must be a reflex, for an answer, or maybe just for comfort, your eyes drift to Sam, flicking away just as quickly in guilt.

"Never mind.  I mean, why wouldn't you quit?" she interrupts before you can stutter out an answer, and turns her attention to the boys.  "Okay, I get how you tracked the drive – straight GPS – but it's still at the office.  How did you find me?"

Sam clears his throat before opening his own laptop and pulling up a video stream of red hair and graphic tee shirt and office supplies.

"Son of a gun jacked my webcam?" Charlie exclaims.

"Welcome to Frank," Dean says in hardly a welcoming tone.

She sighs in defeat.  "It's creepy," she comments, "but I'll give it to him."

"Wait a second," Dean's gaze shift to you.  "How did you know about the leviathans?  I thought we were alone in hunting these things."

"It's not like you two are the only hunters in the world," you respond.  "And they're not exactly subtle.  I mean, they've been turning the entire country into walking vegetables."

"They've been what?" Charlie exclaims in the highest pitch you have ever heard from her voice.

"Wait," Sam holds a hand in the air, "how long did it take you to crack into Frank's drive?"

She shrugs.  "A day or so."

Sam's eyes go wide as he looks from her to you to Dean.  "Is there anything you can't hack into?"

"Not yet."

"How about Dick Roman's email?"

"Why would I..." Charlie trails off as realization creeps onto her face.  "Oh, he's one of them."

"No," Sam says, "uh, he's their leader."

Your heart twinges when you see the gears turning in her head.  She was never supposed to know about this, about any of it.  She was supposed to live her life, maybe with you, without having to worry about ghosts or demons or the supernatural.  You were supposed to take care of it.

"The bottom line," you interject, "is that, right now, every human on the planet is meat."

Charlie looks from you to Sam and Dean in disbelief before she seems to accept the overload of new, terrifying information.

"Okay," she says, sitting down at the dining table and opening the laptop in front of her.  "All right, let's do this.  What am I looking for?"

"Well, for starters, anything about archaeological dig sites," Dean begins.

"Like Indiana Jones stuff?" she shoots him a questioning glance.

"All we know is that Dick has been digging all over the world," he explains, "and we need to know what he's looking for."

To the clacking sounds of her keyboard, Charlie mumbles something about the good week she had been having before being dragged into –

"Oh, crap," she mutters loudly enough for you and the boys to hear.

"Look, we get that it sucks," Sam empathizes.

"No, not that," she says.  "This.  Dick's email isn't on the company server.  It's on a private one, in his office."

"Meaning?" Dean asks.

"You can't get in it unless you have his phone or you're at his desk."

"So, you're saying that if we're inside Dick's office, then we can hack into his email?"

"You can't.  Only someone like..." she trails off, realizing what she could be getting herself into.  "But I sure as hell ain't doing it.  I am doing my job, and... What are the chances I see everything on that drive and Dick lets me live anyway?"

Her eyes dart between the two boys, eventually settling on Sam when he speaks up.

"I think you know," he says.

You can see the gears turning in her head as she forms a plan, undoubtedly a dangerous one.

"So, I erase the drive first, protect me and you," she concludes.  "Then, I go back to my old life, right?"

Her eyes dart between you and the boys, who give her uncomfortable looks of doubt.  "What?"

"It's not that easy," Dean says.  "You're on Dick's radar, which means you don't have an old life anym–"

"Dean, a word," you interrupt and nod to the front door, barely catching a glance of Dean raising his eyes to his brother with a shrug before standing and meeting you in the hallway.

Once he closes the door behind him, he throws his hands out to his sides and gives you a questioning look.  "You want to explain to me how the hell you're alive?"

"Not particularly," you mumble, arms crossed over your chest and backing several steps away from him in what you hope are subtle movements.  "I will, later.  But one thing at a time.  We're not sending her in there."

His questioning look fades to one of regret, of sympathy.  "I know it's not what you want to hear," he says, "but it's the only way to shut this thing down, to save people."

"Since when does saving people mean risking innocent lives?"

For a second, he looks hurt, and you bite back the rest of your speech.  It has been years, but you know Dean.  You know he wouldn't put anyone in danger unless he absolutely needed to – unless it was world-saving – and not without a great deal of guilt.

"All right," you concede.  "But we're not going into this without a plan."

• • • • • • • • • • • •

From the bottom of a great steel pillar, you, with all your might, throw the end of a rope up to the balcony-like structure on the second story of the Richard Roman Enterprises building in hopes that it will wrap around the pillar and fall back down to meet you and the opposite end of the rope.

After your third attempt, you finally manage to get the rope to reach the second floor and, with quite a bit of prodding agitation, push the end off the ledge.

Letting out a sharp, relieved breath, having been vaguely aware of Charlie and the boys' conversation over the Bluetooth in your ear, you are snapped back into the bigger picture when she replies, with a slight smile and more confidence than you have ever heard from her voice, "I'm going to kick it in the ass."

In the corner of your eye, you catch sight of a familiar brown flask in the side pocket of her bag, but look away quickly.

When her head turns, almost reflexively, to you, you pull her into a tight hug, not letting go until she begins to gently pull away and you know it is time.

"Be careful," you plead into her ear before kissing her on the cheek.  "We'll get you in and out of there, and I'll be watching you the whole time.  Just promise me, no heroic moves."

Her green eyes look up into yours and she nods.  "Promise."

You let go of her hands and she grasps the long metal handle of the glass double doors and pulls it open.

From a dark corner of the glass, you watch her as she walks through the lobby, past the security guard  behind the desk, and to the elevator, her expression wide-eyed and anxious.  The guard looks at her with curious eyes before shrugging it off, deeming whatever suspicion he had unimportant.

As she disappears behind the elevator doors, you begin to climb the rope, with your feet stepping up the pillar as leverage.  Though you trust in Charlie's hacking skills with the security cameras that the boys are watching from the van, you need to see for yourself that she is safe in the nooks and crannies the cameras don't see.

You throw the rope up two more times, following her up to the fourth floor.  The second and third times, you find, are much quicker than the first.

From the fourth floor, while Charlie switches elevators and access card strips in order to get to the the executive floor, you use the service stairs to climb up to the eleventh floor.

"I'm in," she alerts you and the boys when the doors close.  "I've always wanted to say that."

You can practically feel the eye roll from emanating from Dean as his voice comes through your earpiece.  "You're on the clock.  Move."

With as much adrenaline-powered strength as you can muster, you run the seven flights of stairs before reaching the eleventh floor, breathless and clammy.  Charlie has already stepped out of the elevator and now stands, pressed against a wall, hiding from another guard on the other side of the doors.

"Hey," she breathes through the Bluetooth.  "There's a big-ass guard up here blocking the door.  What do I do?"

"Just wait him out," Dean says.

She turns to peer through the glass at the guard, who sits on one of the benches, flipping through a book.

"He's not going anywhere," she insists.

A pause from all ends of the line before Dean's voice.  "Okay, uh, you work there everyday.  Do you know the guy?"

"I guess," she says.  "I mean, I've seen him.  I've never talked to him."

"Okay, when you see him, does he look at you, or does he just kind of slide his eyes by?" Dean asks, more anticipation in his voice than you would expect.

"Um... eye contact?" she struggles.  "I don't know.  He always kind of smiles a bit.  I don't really –"

"Good," Dean interrupts.  "What you're going to do is you're going to walk right up to him, and you're going to flirt your way past."

You have to cover your mouth with your hand to stifle a laugh.  She lets out a sigh and rolls her eyes.  "I can't," she says.  "He's not my type."

"You're going to have to play through that," Dean says.

"As in, he's not a girl."

"Oh," you hear from Dean's end.  "Oh, so you two... Oh.  Pretend he has boobs."

Charlie's expression turns to a confused grimace.  "Worse."

"I don't know.  Um..." Dean stumbles.  "Do you have any tattoos?  Give him a little sneak peek there.  All tattoos are sexy."

You smirk to yourself, envisioning hers.

"Mine is Princess Leia in a slave bikini straddling a twenty-sided die."

A silence ensues as you imagine the boys attempt to comprehend the design.

"I was drunk," she explains.  "It was Comic-Con."

A pause, then, "We've all been there," from Dean.

"Okay," he says, "I'm going to walk you through this."

Charlie takes a deep breath and exhales before reaching for the handle of the door, at which point, you need to climb further up the building to peer through the glass roof.

"Start with a smile," Dean says.  "Relax, Charlie.  You just got home, and Scarlett Johannson's waiting for you."

Though you can't see her face, you know it looks more relaxed, and you ignore the smallest twinge of jealousy in the pit of your stomach.

As she exits the hallway and crosses into the main room, the guard rises, alert.  "Can I help you, miss?"

"Hey –" she leans to check his name tag as she hold up hers, "– Bill.  Charlie, from I.T."

"Oh," he says, slightly intrigued.  "Burning the midnight oil, huh?"

"Just like you," you hear Dean coach.  "I mean, when you're not at the gym.  What, do you work out with all your free time."

"I try to get to the gym at least three days a week," Bill says in response to Charlie's repetition of the line.  "Just trying to get back to my fighting weight."

"It shows," Dean says.  "You look amazing."

Charlie repeats the compliment to Bill, who seems to stand taller in front of her.

"You ever do anything else with your free time, like take a girl out for a drink?"

"Stop laughing, Sammy," Dean warns under his breath, which Charlie accidentally repeats.

"Um," she stumbles, "y-you don't know that bar – Stop Laughing, Sammy?  That place is bringing sexy back, which is easy 'cause they kept the receipt –"

As she tries to explain her way out of Dean's words, you can hear a stifled chuckle from the other line, followed by, "Stop talking, Charlie," which she also repeats, adding a "Right," under her breath.

"So, um," she continues, playing with her hair, "you were saying about going out, drinks?"

"Um," Bill stutters, "yeah, that'd be great."

"Cool," she says, a bit too excitedly.  "Pencil that in.  Hey, can I ask you a favor?  The ladies' room downstairs is nasty.  Can I use the exec washroom to powder my nose?"

He pauses, considering, before answering with uncertainty, "Yeah, why not?  It's right down the hall.  It's the first door on the right."

She walks past him with a smile but without another word.  While his back is turned, she looks over her shoulder before walking down the hall and out of your sight.

"I feel dirty," she admits.

"You and me both, sister," Dean responds.

After a bit of shuffling, she lets out a sigh.  "The eagle is landing.  Going radio-silent."

"Let us know when you're out," Dean responds.

Soon after hearing the click of Charlie's earpiece, you feel a chill in the air.  You wave it off as a breeze until you see your breath turn to fog and realize it is too late in the year for the air to be so cold.  Your stomach clenches and your hand flies to your necklace, though you know it will not be able to fend off a ghost.

"Guys, do you know if this building is haunted?" you ask.

Silence, then static.

You switch off the earpiece, and a chill runs through you again.  Your stomach clenches in nervousness and you force a deep breath into your lungs, the image of the flask in Charlie's bag flashing through your mind, reluctant to accept what you already know.

"Bobby?" you call into the night air, your shaky voice barely a whisper.

For what seems like minutes, you can only hear your heartbeat and the sound of wind drifting across your ears.

"(Y/N)."

You turn around slowly to face him, but not before rebellious tears begin to well up in your eyes upon hearing the familiar voice you have missed for so long.

Bobby, in all his flannel-and-worn-cap glory, stands before you, only he looks paler, almost translucent.  His expression, you imagine, mirrors yours.

"How...?"

"It –"  You have to clear the lump in your throat and continue.  "It's a long story.  How did you...?"

"Dick put a bullet through my brain," he says, almost casually.

In another circumstance, you would have found it ironic that a human-eating monster would have to use a gun to kill Bobby Singer.  You never thought he would die at gunpoint.

You never thought he would die.

In spite of your rapid blinking, the tears manage to inch their way out.  You don't bother to wipe them away.

You left him.  You knew you would when you made the deal and you didn't tell him.  You saw what it did to him.  Maybe if you hadn't sold your soul, things would have played out differently and he would still be alive.

"I'm sorry," you manage to choke out, though you know you don't deserve forgiveness.  

He reaches a hand out to your shoulder, only for it to pass through, leaving you with a chilly feeling where he would have touched you.  You are almost relieved, knowing you don't deserve his comfort any more than Sam's.

He curls his hand into a fist, upset with himself for not being able to be solid.  "Listen, kid," he says.  "You and Dean put us through a hell of a time.  But I get why you did it."

You are vaguely aware of your nodding as you try desperately to swallow back the tears.

Before you can pull yourself together enough to say anything, his projection seems to glitch and eventually disappears altogether.

As soon as you are sure he is gone, you reach out your hand to grasp the rail for support as your knees hit the metal screen-like material of the steps, letting the tears stream out of your eyes freely.

After several minutes of soaking the shoulders of your tee shirt, you rise to your feet, switch the Bluetooth back on, and begin the trek down the steep steps to the fourth floor.

"(Y/N), where the hell have you been?" Dean asks once you are connected, a significant note of annoyance in his voice, but also a slight twinge of relief.

"Sorry, I..."  Realizing you do not have a good answer to his question, you change the subject.  "What'd I miss?"

"We're on our way to the airport," he says.   "Charlie found an email in Dick's account that says he's expecting a package.  Whatever it is, he wants it bad, which means we have to get to it before he does."

"Are you thinking whatever it is is what he was digging for?"

"His emails showed that he stopped digging weeks ago, which means he found whatever he was looking for.  It's a good bet."

"You guys have a plan?"

A pause on the line, then a less-than-confident, "We're working on it."

[ravenclawlitza]

❛  galinda upland & elphaba thropp, sorcerers

                   original characters for DUNGEONS & DRAGONS fifth edition

galinda:

STR  10 / +0 / +0   •   DEX  12 / +1 / +1   •   CON  11 / +0 / +0

INT  16 / +3 / +3   •   WIS  12 / +1 / +4   •   CHA  18 / +4 / +7

HP:  22   •   AC:  11   •   LEVEL:  5   •   HIT DICE:  5d6

PROFICIENCY:  +3   •   ARMOR:  none   •   SPEED:  30ft

LANGUAGES:  common, +3

STR:  +0 athletics

DEX:  +1 acrobatics  •  +1 sleight of hand  •  +1 stealth

INT:  +3 arcana  •  +6 history  •  +6 investigation  •  +3 nature  •  +3 religion

WIS:  +1 animal handling  •  +4 insight  •  +1 medicine  •  +1 perception  •  +1 survival

CHA:  +7 deception  •  +4 intimidation  •  +4 performance  •  +7 persuasion

CROSSBOW EXPERT:  you ignore the loading quality of crossbows with which you are proficient, being within 5 feet of a hostile creature doesn't impose disadvantage on your ranged attack rolls, and when you use the attack action and attack with a one handed weapon, you can use a bonus action to attack with a hand crossbow you are holding.

WEAPON MASTER:  you have practiced extensively with a variety of weapons, and can increase your strength by one and gain proficiency with the rapier, light crossbow, hand crossbow, and net.

elphaba:

STR  11 / +0 / +0   •   DEX  14 / +2 / +2   •   CON  12 / +1 / +1

INT  14 / +2 / +2   •   WIS  11 / +0 / +3   •   CHA  18 / +4 / +7

HP:  27   •   AC:  15   •   LEVEL:  5   •   HIT DICE:  5d6

PROFICIENCY:  +3   •   ARMOR:  natural draconic   •   SPEED:  30ft

LANGUAGES:  common, draconic, +3

STR:  +0 athletics

DEX:  +2 acrobatics  •  +2 sleight of hand  •  +7 stealth

INT:  +2 arcana  •  +2 history  •  +5 investigation  •  +2 nature  •  +2 religion

WIS:  +0 animal handling  •  +3 insight  •  +0 medicine  •  +0 perception  •  +0 survival

CHA:  +7 deception  •  +7 intimidation  •  +4 performance  •  +4 persuasion

MAGIC INITIATE: you learn two cantrips of your choice, using intelligence as your spellcasting ability, and you learn find familiar and can cast it once per day.

BAT FAMILIAR:  tiny beast.  ac 12, hp 1, str 2, dex 15, con 8, int 2, wis 12, cha 4.  speed 5ft, fly 30ft, echolocation 60ft (blindsight if it can hear), advantage on perception checks that rely on hearing.  bite, melee attack, one creature, +0 to hit, reach 5ft, 1 piercing damage.

abilities:

SORCEROUS ORIGIN:  galinda’s innate wild magic comes from the wild forces of chaos that underlie the order of creation, giving her the ability to manipulate the forces of chaos and choose to gain advantage on one attack roll, ability check, or saving throw once per long rest.  elphaba’s magic comes from the bloodline of a green dragon, giving her a bonus to ac, advantage to charisma checks when interacting with dragons, and vivid green skin speckled with scales that run from her temples to her collarbones.

SORCERY POINTS:  they each have 5 sorcery points.  2 points can be exchanged to gain back a first level spell slot, 3 points for second level, and 5 points for third.  alternately, a spell slot can be exchanged to gain the number of sorcery points equal to the slot’s level.  points can be spent on metamagic options when casting a spell.

galinda’s metamagic:

CAREFUL SPELL:  when you cast a spell that forces other creatures to make a saving throw, you can protect some of those creatures from the spell’s full force, spending one sorcery point and choosing a number of creatures up to four to automatically succeed on their saving throws against the spell.

SUBTLE SPELL:  when you cast a spell, you can spend one sorcery point to cast it without any somatic or verbal components.

elphaba’s metamagic:

EMPOWERED SPELL: when you roll damage for a spell, you can spend on sorcery point to reroll a number of the damage die up to four and must use the new rolls.  you can use this even if you have aleady used a different metamagic option during the casting of the spell.

TWINNED SPELL: when you cast a spell that targets only one creature and doesn’t have a range of self, you can spend a number of sorcery points equal to the spell’s level to target a second creature in range with the same spell, using one sorcery point for a cantrip.

spells:

SPELLCASTING:  they each know 5 cantrips and six spells, and can cast 4 first level spells, 3 second level spells, and 2 third level spells per long rest.

SPELL SAVE DC:  15

SPELL ATTACK MODIFIER:  +7

galinda’s weapons:

2 HAND CROSSBOWS:  +4 to attack, 1d6+1 piercing, ammo, light, range 30/120

RAPIER:  +4 to attack, 1d8+1 piercing, finesse

2 DAGGERS:  +4 to attack, 1d4+1 piercing, finesse, light, thrown 20/60

NET: +4 to attack, thrown 5/15, can only make one attack when you use the net as an action, reaction, or bonus action, a large or smaller creature hit by a net is restrained until it is freed, with a dc 10 strength check to be freed, or 5 slashing damage to the net (ac 10)

elphaba’s weapons:

QUARTERSTAFF:  +3 to attack, 1d6 bludgeoning, versatile 1d8

LIGHT CROSSBOW:  +5 to attack, 1d8+2 piercing, ammo, loading, two-handed, 80/320

2 DAGGERS:  +5 to attack, 1d4+2 piercing, finesse, light, thrown 20/60

equipment:

CLOTHING:  fine clothes for galinda, dark common clothes for elphaba

GALINDA’S PACK:  a small bag holding 40 crossbow bolts, a waterskin, and a component pouch

ELPHABA’S PACK:  a backpack, 2 bedrolls, a tent, a change of common clothes, three changes of fine clothes, a waterskin, a tinderbox, 2 mess kits, 20 crossbow bolts, 20 torches, 20 days rations, a component pouches, 2 coils of hempen rope

backgrounds:

ELPHABA:  as a rank 3 brightcandle faction member of the harpers, she has completed secret missions in their name and proven herself trustworthy of their secrets and support.  despite her often acerbic nature, she strongly believes that no one should be left powerless, and is unflinchingly committed to the harpers’ goal of thwarting tyrants and promoting equality.  she will help any member of the harpers provided it does not directly conflict with her current mission, though she has a great deal of difficulty being told exactly how to do her job.

GALINDA:  raised as a member of the nobility, she is welcomed openly in high society, and common folk generally make an extra effort to be accommodating to her.  well versed in eloquent flattery, she’s able to turn every conversation to her advantage and get almost anyone to like her, making them feel like the most wonderful and important person in the world.  she respects the law and believes that working within the law (or, at least, in its shadow) is the best policy.  still, she grows more uncertain the longer she is friends with elphaba, and often finds herself torn between supporting elphaba’s causes and maintaining her own prim and proper image.

[kittyxuchiha11]

The study group - Chapter 1 - The Caltriax academy

Summary: Elyza wanted to be a good person. She thought that maybe a change in careers would help that. I mean, a con artist isn't exactly the best profession to be when you're trying to be good. By some stroke of luck (or misfortune, depends how you look at it) she finds herself traveling with 4 students of the famous Caltraix academy. The worst part, she's been assigned to protect these idiots from harms way. Great, just what she wanted.

A novel based on the events of my groups Dungeons and Dragons campaign.

READ ON A03

___________________________________________________________

The Arcturus company likes to think of itself as one of the highest and most well versed mercenary companies there is to hire in these lands. It’s no wonder they've been hired to guard the wondrous Caltriax academy, home to many young students studying and learning how to perfect their magic ways.

The students take their classes in the day, living in the Equitus Spire the rest of the time. The mercenary guards have their own living quarters in the Thorn Spire, although they work in shifts to guard the students day and night. There are a few classes held in the evening, extra curricular ones which both students and guards are able to attend since many of the guards have magical abilities of their own.

Any relations between guards and students aren’t forbidden per say, but definitely frowned upon. Mercenary captain varin keeps his troops in line, but some slip through the cracks of course. So it isn’t a surprise to find a purple tiefling guard making her way into the dorms, making it look like she’s just on her way to do her assigned patrol route, before quickly sneaking her way towards the stairs.

When she turns the corner, she doesn’t expect to find a cute black haired human girl with large glasses, who quite literally bumps into her. “Oh, Elyza. Hi”

Elyza just gives her a once over, her expression obviously saying much more than words ever could because Chell, the girl in question, looks sheepish before smiling shyly. “I’m just going to the library. Couldn't sleep so decided to do some late night reading...I won’t tell if you won’t.”

Elyza gives her a grin, laughing softly to herself as she steps aside and lets Chell past. “Go on then. Just be back before I can ‘catch’ you.” 

Chell nods excitedly, hurrying down the hall and out of sight before Elyza can say another word. She shakes her head slightly, a small smile still on her face as she proceeds. Chell is cute, in like a nerdy bookworm way. Not really Elyza’s type, but they get along well enough when they bump into each other while Elyza is patrolling. It definitely isn’t the first time they’ve met like this.

Elyza makes her way up to the next level, smirking to herself confidently. It's almost too easy to sneak past the Tabaxi stationed to patrol the fourth floor. She watches him pass from where she’s hidden around a corner, easily managing to sneak past the path he’s just crossed to get where she needs to go.

Just as before, Elyza manages to sneak past the dwarven man on the fifth floor as well, having to wait for him to move out of sight before very quietly giving her signature knock on the door she’s looking for. As if on cue, the door opens quickly, Elyza basically being dragged inside the room. Once inside she blinks a few times, her eyes adjusting to the light interior compared to the pitch black of the corridors. 

A human girl stands before her, her long brown hair spilling over her shoulders. Her blue eyes looking at Elyza with a look of wonder and awe. “You’re here. You actually came” she says softly, a small flush rising to her cheeks as she realises how silly that sounds.

Elyza just smiles at her, relaxing slightly as she closes the gap between them “Of course I am. You think I'd miss our date? Especially after that adorable letter you left, Miya?”

Miya looks away, definitely flustered if her pink cheeks are anything to go by “I didn’t think I- you flirt with a lot of girls, I didn’t think I was special enough…”

Elyza seems to falter for a moment, the flirty comment on her tongue dying as she looks at Miya. She is known for flirting, it's what she does best. Being able to twist anyone she likes around her finger to get what she wants. It’s how she made it so long in Pyke, her charm and wit perfected so no one could see through her. She left that life behind, coming here trying to kid herself that she could change, be better than she was. Hoping she could change so she doesn’t turn out like him.

Miya seems to sense her moment of inner turmoil and looks up at her with her big beautiful blue eyes. So clear and pure, no one’s ever hurt her before. Elyza knows its wrong, but she keeps going, leading her on like this means something. She smiles, knowing it doesn’t reach her eyes as she cups Miya’s face and rubs a thumb across her cheek bone.

“You’re beautiful Miya, I’m lucky to have you.”

They spend the night together, hours later lying in a tangle of blankets and furs. Elyza normally isn’t one to stay, but the way Miya is nuzzled into her neck and clinging to her keeps her put. She runs her fingers through the younger girl’s long brown hair, finding it oddly calming. Her mind is far away, thinking about anything and everything, when the thought comes to her that her shift will be over soon and she’ll have to head back to the Thorn Spire to rest. Just as she’s about to speak, she hears Miya’s slightly muffled voice.

“Elyza?” 

Elyza hums in reply, opening her eyes to see Miya has now moved her head and is looking at her, trying to make eye contact the best she can from their current position.

“Will I see you again?”

She doesn’t reply, not immediately. She just looks, searching Miya’s eyes trying to gauge how sincere she is. 

“Of course you will, i’ll be around”

“No, I mean like this...will you come see me again?”

Elyza knows its wrong to string her along like this when Miya obviously really likes her, and Elyza is just using her as a distraction, something she can easily get. But she nods and smiles, moving to kiss Miya, hoping she can crush the tiny feeling of guilt in her stomach with something else. 

About an hour later Elyza leaves, just as the morning sun is coming up and the other night guards are heading to bed as she should be. It isn’t hard to sneak out and pretend she’s been at her post all night.

As she arrives back at her living quarters, she finds the tabaxi man waiting for her, arms crossed as if he’s just caught her sneaking back in.

“Yes Vale?” she asks after a moment of them both just looking at each other. His expression darkens slightly as he takes a step towards her. She takes a step back instinctively, falling into line like she was always taught. She mentally kicks herself for it, giving Vale a hard stare as she steps back up to him.

“I know what you were up to last night”

Elyza simply scoffs at him, rolling her eyes. “What are you talking about”

He seems to squint at her slightly before leaning in just the slightest bit “I heard you. I know you weren’t at your post”

“I was. I was there all night. You must be losing it finally, Vale.”

He gives her one last hard look over before backing off. “Don’t make a habit of it. We all need to pull our weight around here” 

Elyza watches as he leaves, breathing a sigh of relief as she hears his footsteps fade. She knows he’s always like that, always weird and creepy. She shrugs it off, starting to take off her armour and ready herself for bed.

Suddenly, there’s a sharp knock at the door. “Elyza! Get the hell out here right now!”

She knows immediately who it is and scrambles to get the door open. Sure enough, Captain Varin is standing there, a face full of thunder as he all but glares at her. “You! With me, right now!”

__________________________________________________________________________

Varin doesn’t say a word to her, just marches her out of the Thorn spire and back towards the Equitus. She knows better than to ask questions, knows it will not end well for her. So she stays quiet, and before she knows it, she’s being lead towards the common room of the dorms. He gives her another harsh look before he opens the door and leads her inside.

Elyza doesn’t know what to expect when she walks in, but is sure isn’t what she’s met with. There stands Trizzi Vastres, an adorable red tiefling with short curly white hair. Elyza hasn’t exactly gotten to know Trizzi, but she’s seen her around a few times. She may have a slight crush on her, but she’d never act on it. She isn’t that stupid.

On the other side of the room standing near Trizzi is a young human man with curly black hair. A...a mouse who stands about 3 feet tall, wearing a white shirt and black shorts. Elyza vaguely remembers seeing him around the academy, but thought it must have been some sort of illusion. Apparently not. Next to them is a weird blue lizard looking thing in a long blue dress. And at the end of the group very much seperate from the others is what Elyza can only describe as a weird sunburnt looking elf with long black hair wearing a suit. 

Everyone seems to look at Elyza as she enters, most of them looking with intrigue and confusion. She still doesn’t say anything. Just stands there, hands behind her back as she looks to Varin for further instruction. He’s moved to stand beside Trizzi now as he looks over the group, still looking incredibly pissed off.

“Right, listen up. A student has been found dead, we suspect a murderer is among us. Chell, a young human girl. Dark hair, big glasses. Yeah, we found her in this floors library with a knife in her throat.”

“What?” the curly haired man asks sounding incredibly shocked, his eyes immediately darting to the mouse beside him as they share an almost horrified look.

“Here.” Varin holds out a bloodied steel dagger, the pattern on the base recognisable instantly as a standard issue for the military guard. 

“Right now we have no idea who’s done this. The Archmagi are coming down hard on this, they need someone to blame for an innocent girl’s murder. Unless we know who did it, the heads will expel all of you to be safe.”

“But we didn’t do anything wrong!” the mouse pipes up, his voice sounding somehow exactly how Elyza imagined it would.

“And so you say. But you all live on the same floor as her, you all know her” He says pointedly looking towards the four students in the room.

For a moment Elyza thinks she might be about to get away with abandoning her post as Varin’s anger seems to be mainly directed towards the students. That is until he turns towards her, eyes like daggers piercing into her.

“And she was killed on your watch! You’re just as guilty as far as we’re concerned.”

Elyza grimices slightly at the loudness of his voice, opening her mouth to try defend herself but then shutting it immediately as she sees the look he’s giving her. He seems to collect himself and sigh softly. The frown seeming to be permanent on his face as he looks up to address them all once again.

“As of right now, you’re all suspects. I suggest you quickly find out who the killer is or you’re all fucked.You have 24 hours.”

And with that he leaves the room, leaving pretty much everyone in shock if their faces are anything to go by. Trizzi is the first to move, her nervous energy even more apparent today as she quickly tries to give them all more information.

“Erm, we have compiled a list of people who last saw Chell, the poor girl: Jorin the guard who watches the stairway, Kervos was last seen with her in the library yesterday, and Vale, the Tabaxi from the Gahren company who patrols at night. I wish you all luck, but I must go now, I've got a lot of paperwork to do unfortunately.”

Soon enough it’s just the five of them left in a room alone together. The shock of the murder of one of their friends seeming to hit most of the students hard. And Elyza, well she’s never felt so guilty in her entire life. Chell was alive and well when she’d seen her no more than eight hours before. What the hell could of happened?

The tall woman seems to clear her throat, grabbing everyone’s attention before she speaks, her voice almost like silk with an accident Elyza recognises immediately. “So, it seems we have a murder to solve. I don’t know about you lot, but I don’t exactly want to be expelled over this.”

“How can you be so calm and about this Cornelia? Chell was our friend, and now she’s dead.” the black haired man says with a tight frown, his expression seeming to be mirrored by the mouse somehow. 

Cornelia seems slightly taken aback by this, but soon collects herself and just looks back at him “She may have been your friend, but not mine. I don’t even know who you people are.”

“Cariston, Cheese, and Naliah” The mouse- Cheese says as he points out who’s who. “We’ve all been living together for the last year at least, how can you not know?”

“I stay in my room, go to classes. I have no interest in making friends”

“I’ve only seen Chell a few times in passing, never really talked to her” Naliah, the blue lizard girl says quietly, seeming like she doesn’t exactly want to be involved in this conversation either. 

Cheese seems to ignore her comment altogether as he seems way too shocked at Cornelia. “We had a party a few months ago and made cupcakes and everything for you.”

“Oh. Is that what those were for?”

“They were friendship cupcakes Cornelia! how did you not know?”

Elyza just watches them for a moment almost in amazement at how the hell these idiots are supposed to be powerful enough to even still be at this school. Elyza has seen her fair share of stupid people in her time, but these guys really take the cake, arguing over such trivial shit.

“If you’re quite done” she says, trying to keep the annoyance out of her voice “We only have a day to solve this, don’t you think we better get a move on?”

“She’s right” Naliah says after a short tense silence. “We better go over what we know” Elyza makes her way across the room to gather with the group, noticing the pout on Cornelia’s face since she didn’t get to win her argument.

“Elyza, by the way” she says, giving Cornelia her signature wink that normally will make even the sternest of girls swoon. Cornelia instead just rolls her eyes, deciding helping the group will be miles better than being flirted with by the academy’s flirtiest tielfing. Instead of deferring her, it brings a smirk to Elyza’s lips. Looks like she has a challenge ahead of her if she really wants to pursue it.

They discuss their options, what they know, trying to figure out who the hell would want to hurt poor Chell. Chell who was quiet and kind, always helpful and cheerful. Figuring out the motive is the hardest part. Was it a coincidence? Or did Chell get herself in some kind of trouble. They manage to narrow it down to a few options, those being: Visit the library, interview people who last saw her, and just ask around to see if anyone saw anything.

“Trizzi said there was a guard that found her. Jorin, right? Maybe he can tell us something?” Cariston asks them, obviously thinking about more than just that by the look on his face.

“Yeah, it’s somewhere to start at least.” Naliah replies, already looking towards the exit “I think I heard Trizzi mention he was in the infirmary”

Without much more discussion, the group move from the dorms, heading downstairs to the infirmary. It’s a short walk there, one spent in silence. There are several other students roaming around, everyone seeming on edge and the rumours already spreading by the stares they’re all getting. 

There are several whispers and conversations not being had as quietly as they should be, but Elyza doesn't pick up anything too important. Just some gossip about Jorin being blood soaked and crying as he reported the crime. Whispers of secret lovers and other crazy intentions behind the murder. She knows to ignore gossip mostly. Some of it can be good fun when it's all to do with affairs and such, but not when it surrounds something like this.

They arrive at the infirmary without issue, Cariston seeming to lead the group into the room where sure enough Jorin is lying in a nearby cot, propped up by some pillows behind him. He notices them arrive but doesn’t give them an indication he’s happy to see them which is strange because from what people know of him he’s normally a fairly happy guy. Although, the fact he found a student dead less than an hour ago might have something to do with that.

 “Hi Jorin. We’d like to ask some questions” Cariston leads with, giving the rest of the group a quick glance as if to ask them to step in and help. Cheese seems to happily take the invitation and starts asking questions.

“You were the one who found Chell, what were you doing in the library?” Cheese asks as he tries to stand up as tall as possible to have a look at the man obviously still in shock.

“I, uh. I always do a quick check of the library before the start of my watch. I went in there as usual, but that’s when I saw the blood”

“I heard you were covered in blood when you reported her death, is that true?” Cornelia says with a pointed tone, drawing a few looks from the others. Elyza is impressed more than anything that she picked up on the gossip she’d also head. So far Cornelia hasn’t exactly come across as the most perceptive person.

“I, uh- of course I was. I saw her lying there and tried to see if she was okay, hold her and shake her awake. I-I thought maybe she’d fallen and hit her head. That’s w-when I saw the dagger” He breathes shakily, his eyes filling with tears at the memory “I-I’m sorry. Who could have done something so terrible to her? She was liked by everyone. I just can’t-” he cuts himself off with a sob, his head in his hands as he cries.

Elyza has seen a lot of people lie. She lived around people who lied for a profession for many years. She wants to say this guy is just a really good actor and accuse him and try get this solved now. Everything points to him, whoever has done this has planned it out very well. It is incredibly hard to deny murder when your hands are soaked in blood. But she knows Jorin didn’t do it, she can just tell. She could just accuse him, but it wouldn’t be right, she owes it to Chell at least to find her murderer. 

“Come on, lets leave him be” She says, turning to walk out the room. The rest of them, especially Cheese, seem to give her a strange look but follow her. Once outside the room she leans against the wall, looking over the rest of the group “He’s telling the truth, he didn’t kill her. We should probably go to the library to see if we can find anything.”

“How do you know? He looked guilty to me.” Cornelia says with a shrug, not seeming overly bothered if he is guilty or not. 

“I think she’s right. He seemed too upset for it to be him. Would he really be in shock if he’d done it?” Cariston pipes up, looking over to Cheese and Naliah for back up. Cheese simply nods in agreement, where as naliah doesn't say anything, just looks at the ground as if she doesn’t have anything to say on it. 

“Guilty or not we need some evidence.” Cornelia says plainly, already turning to walk back to the Equitus spire. “And we sure as hell aren’t going to find it standing here.”

They make their way towards the library, even more people seem to be staring and whispering at them this time. It seems everyone now knows that they're suspects, it isn’t the sort of attention Elyza really wants honestly. 

As they’re walking past the laboratories, a worried looking halfling girl with light brown hair spots them and seems to almost jump out in front of them. “Oh, uh, Hi there! My name’s Beree. I uh, I kinda have a problem. Could you guys help me out with it?” she says skittishly, her voice a higher pitch than expected.

“Oh, yes of course. How can we help?” Cariston asks happily, seemingly forgetting they’re in a hurry to solve a murder.

“So, uh. I was just doing my work in there and, uh. There’s no way to say this apart from I think my components came alive?”

“How did they come alive?” Cheese asks with a bit to much eagerness “Can we go in and see, oh this could be interesting!”

“Wait, Cheese-” Cariston starts to say but Cheese speeds off through the door before anyone can think to stop him.

“We’ll be back” Cariston says to Beree, going in after Cheese. The rest of the group look at each other, Elyza sighing to herself softly before following suit, as do the rest of them. 

Inside the room there seems to be a hell of a lot of dust in the air, obscuring the tables and workbenches. At first, it just seems like someone was using something which produced this much dust, that’s when they hear a voice coming from the dust.

“Who are you?!”

“Great, the dust is talking to us. Just how I wanted my day to go” Cornelia mumbles to herself, receiving a small smirk from Elyza in response. The others, mainly Cariston, seem more worried by the voice. But before he can say anything, Cheese replies to it.

“I’m Cheese and these are my friends. Why are you here, what are you?”

“Why does that matter? We’ve come here because we want to. There is death about, we know this.”

“What do you mean you know about death? Our friend Chell was killed, do you know anything about that?” Cariston chimes in with, taking a step forward. Elyza isn’t really paying that much attention, assuming this is all some sort of really elaborate prank, that is until she sees something move in the dust. She by instinct goes for her longbow on her back, her eyes scanning around the rest of the room. 

“Yes we know she died. Such a wonderful thing, isn’t it? She died, and now you all should too!”

Before anyone can react there’s a sudden burst of air and the dust flies towards the group. Elyza already ready to fight jumps out of the way and shields her eyes, feeling dust batter against her face. She opens her eyes, immediately looking around to check on the rest of the group. She meets Naliah’s eye and nods, hoping she’ll understand what she’s trying to say. She nods back at her, taking a step forward toward these creatures.

Elyza closes her eyes for a moment, looking right at the creature when she opens them again. she knocks an arrow into her bow as if its second nature and fires at the ugly long nose poking out of the dust. She watches with a smirk as it hits and the creature shrieks in pain.

Cariston seems to hold his hand forward and the creature seems to hold its head, whimpering as it starts to crumble in on itself before there’s another burst of dust. Elyza gets ready to shield her eyes again but the dust doesn’t travel very far. She looks around, seeing cheese rubbing dust from his eyes, Naliah seemingly growling as another creature appears out of the dust and starts to move towards them.

Elyza takes a few steps back, getting ready to shoot again, when Naliah summoning a sword out of thin air makes her stop. She watches for a moment, completely dumb struck on how the hell she managed to do that.

“Disgusting creatures!” Naliah grunts as she slashes through its dusty body. She then looks surprised, looking around at the rest of the group as if she’s seeing if they heard her speak. Her eye catches Elyza’s again and they both share a confused look for a moment before a bolt of fire hits the creature beside her. The same as the last one it seems to shrivel up and then burst into dust violently. Naliah isn’t prepared for it and chokes a little, stumbling out of the cloud but still keeping her footing.

Suddenly Elyza hears a small yelp of surprise as one of the creatures emerges from the dust and swipes at Cariston. He quickly lifts his shield and manages to deflect it, its long claws scraping loudly against the metal.

Elyza doesn’t see another creature emerging beside her before it’s too late. She goes to move out of the way but its claws catch her and she grunts in pain as it tears into the skin of her arm. She turns around angry, ready to shoot this thing in its ugly face when a flame slams into it. Elyza glances back to see Cornelia with flames surrounding her, as she readies her next attack. Naliah also seems to have joined in, wailing on some other poor creature that decided to try to attack her.

The creatures seem to be never ending, appearing then disappearing again into the dust, making it impossible to keep track of them. Cariston gets surrounded easily, the dust swirling around him as claws swipe at him. He tries to spin around to face them but they’re faster than he is. 

“Cariston, move!”

Cariston’s eyes widen as he hears Cornelia’s demand and barely has enough time to raise his shield before a cone of fire explodes where he’s standing. The creatures surrounding him yelp in pain as the flames glow and flicker, burning them as they try to retreat into the dust once again. Elyza feels a surge of adrenaline and joy as she watches it happen. But then it quickly turns to dread as the smoke clears and Cariston isn’t standing.

Time seems to slow down as she sees the shape of Cariston’a body slumped against the floor, scorch marked shield lay forgotten beside him. Naliah and Cornelia both seem to notice too which seems to spur them on to keep fighting. Elyza’s stomach drops as she realises it's up to her to help him.

She rushes over, it not catching up to her actually what she’s doing until she’s crouched down next to him laying her hand on him as it glows with a soft white energy. She stops, her eyes widening as she just stares at her hand. She tries to take deep breaths to calm the hell down and help. 

“F-Fuck. Shit.” She stammers, her eyes wide and her breathing erratic as her shaking hands make contact with his arm. She closes her eyes tight, feeling tears well there as images flash through her mind. She wasn’t strong enough, she’s never going to be-

The feeling of him jerking awake under her touch brings her back out of her own head. Her eyes dart to him as she tries to steady her own breathing again, giving him a hand to his feet. She notices the strange look he gives her as she quickly wipes at her eyes and readies her weapon again.

She fires off a few more shots, the rest of the group following suit until the dust in the room slowly starts to dissipate and no more creatures can be seen. It’s only as the room begins to clear that she notices Cheese isn’t standing with them.

“Cheese?” she calls out unsurely, scanning the room to see if he’s hidden by some taller object or something. To her surprise, he suddenly appears by the door, picking up some coins he seems to have dropped. He gives her a sheepish grin and explains he thought maybe the monsters wanted some gold so he tried to leave a trail to get them to leave the room. She simply just stares at him, definitely not going back on her statement that she’s stumbled across a bunch of absolute idiots. 

“Hey guys, check this out” Naliah says, holding up some sort of wand looking thing she seems to have found in the corner. Cariston’s eyes light up at the sight of it and he hurries over, examining it for a few seconds before he starts to mutter a few words under his breath. Elyza realises he’s casting some sort of spell but before she can ask what he seems to perk up again.

“It’s a rod of communication. That’s why we could understand those things, I doubt they spoke common.”

“Yeah.” Naliah says, nodding in agreement “I was not speaking in common earlier, yet that’s what came out.”

“We better get back to Beree and tell her about this.”

Outside the room exactly where they left her, Beree stands there looking even more worried than before, her worry turning to relief as she sees them all. “Oh, you’re back. What did you find, did you stop the weird voices?”

“We took care of them. They were a pain in the ass, got my jacket covered in dust” Cornelia says, sounding annoyed as she brushes some dust off of her sleeve. “Found some weird rod thing as well”

Cariston holds up the rod as if on cue and a look of realisation crosses her face “Oh, my rod of communication. It all makes sense now, that’s how they were able to talk. Thanks so much for sorting that out, I'm working on my thesis and needed the lab to continue. Here, take this. It isn’t much but it's a reward for helping”

She holds out a giant key sort of looking thing, telling them its a wand of knocking. If they point it at something locked, it’ll cast the knock spell and unlock it. She gives them a final thanks before heading back into the laboratory room. 

__________________________________________________________________________

Elyza has only been in the library maybe once or twice in the two years she’s been working at the academy with The Arcturus company. It’s normally filled with bright natural sunlight, lots of students writing and reading at the many desks set around the room. However, today it seems like a completely different place. The room seems darker than usual, the sky overcast with the sun struggling to peek through. There’s no life, no hustle and bustle. Just an empty room with a blood stain still very prominent on a desk to the right of the room. 

They all seem to just stop and take in the sight, maybe a few of them having similar thoughts to Elyza. She doesn’t know, doesn’t really want to know honestly. She was feeling okay, feeling confident they could do this and everything would be okay. But seeing this, seeing Chell’s blood still in the spot where she was murdered makes her stomach sink. The guilt she’s managed to keep at bay until now comes creeping back, clawing its way from her stomach up into her throat until she feels she can’t breathe. 

“I’m going to check the shelves and see if I can find any clues.” Cariston says, grounding Elyza slightly as she manages to take a deep shaky breath and nod. The rest of the group disperse, wandering over to different parts of the room. Cornelia mumbling to herself about how she's never even been in here before, what kind of weirdo enjoys being in a library.

Elyza finds herself walking over to the blood stained floor, her eyes wide and chest uncomfortably tight. If she’d been at her post, been actually doing her job rather than having a night of fun with some naive girl just because she could, maybe this wouldn’t have happened. Maybe Chell would still be alive and this disaster could be avoided, but maybes won’t bring her back. Elyza knows all too well that maybes and what ifs aren’t useful. They can’t bring anyone back, no matter how hard you wish.

“Is there a book missing up there? Look, there's a gap I think” Cheese’s voice is loud in the silent library, drawing everyone's attention. Elyza shakes her head, trying to push back all the bad things running through her mind as she goes over to join Cheese and Cariston standing at a bookshelf. There is in fact a gap in the row of books, seeming to be the only one out of place.

“Our guy could have that book. If we found out who has it, we might find another clue at least” Elyza says to herself, more thinking out loud than anything else.

“Trizzi should have a list, right?” Naliah asks, also coming over to join them with Cornelia trailing behind her.

Cheese and Cariston both nod, talking about how they’re both never out of Trizzi’s office with how many books they check out. They all seem to agree they better go talk to Trizzi then and hope they can find another lead. Because so far, all they have is it wasn’t Jorin and that’s it. 

As they’re all leaving the library, Elyza finds herself eyeing the blood stained floor once again. The guilt suddenly so unbearable that she actually stops and just stares at it once more. She's normally good at lying and keeping secrets, she spent many years being this unreadable mystery. But now, now she feels like she’s some sort of criminal. Guilty, so incredibly guilty.

“Elyza, you coming?” Cornelia asks glancing over her shoulder. The rest of the group notice she isn’t following and stop as well. Suddenly, she has all eyes on her, and that’s when the panic begins to really hit.

“Okay, fuck. I...I have to admit something to you guys.”

“What is it?” Cheese asks, his little voice and big eyes staring up at her is almost too much to bear. They may all be giant fucking idiots, but they’re good. They're good, and kind. Everything Chell was too. 

“I...I saw Chell last night. She was out of her room when she wasn’t supposed to be. She just wanted to go to the library. I let her go, I didn’t think anything would happen to her. I was supposed to be on guard, to be keeping her safe, but…”

“But what? It’s not like you knew this would happen.” Cariston says softly, a look in his eyes Elyza recognises as pity, and she absolutely hates it. She doesn’t deserve pity, she doesn’t deserve anything.

“I was supposed to be on guard, patrolling this floor and keeping you safe, but I wasn’t. I made...plans with someone. I abandoned my post to spend the night with her.”

She watches as her words seem to wash over the rest of them, some of them understanding a lot faster than others. Cariston has an expression she can’t read on his face. She decides that’s a lot worse than pity ever could be.

“So, let me get this straight.” Cornelia starts, the most emotion you’ve ever seen on her face “You skipped out on your job, just to sleep with a girl?”

“It’s not- it wasn’t like that. Look, I’m sorry. I just took some time out of one night and this shit happens. Do you think I wanted her to die? You think I want anyone to get hurt and for it to be my fault?!”

She doesn’t realise she’s shouting until silence falls over the room. It’s deafening, everyone’s stares not helping the panic and guilt still bubbling in her chest. “I couldn’t save her. Maybe I could have, but it’s too late now. I...I just wanted to tell you, to let you know…No matter what, we have to find out who did this. For Chell.”

“We do, and we’re running out of time. You nerds better be right about this book thing” is all Cornelia says before turning and walking out of the room. Everyone seems to look at each other before following her out. Elyza tags along at the back, still feeling like she isn’t forgiven, but honestly she doesn’t care. 

The walk to Trizzi’s office is short, and within seconds of knocking on her door they hear scrambling from within. She answers the door looking a bit more flustered than usual, but seems to relax as she sees who it is. 

Cariston does most of the talking, which he seems quite accustomed too. Trizzi is happy to help of course, inviting them into the office and telling them to ignore the mess. The mess, as she describes it is just stacks and stacks of books and papers. She gives them a sheepish grin as she has to move a few creating an even bigger pile to retrieve the log book from her desk. She tells them Kervos was the last one to have that book checked out.

Trizzi tries to ask them if they’ve found anything yet, but their lack of progress seems frustrating even to her. She tells them to be careful and good luck before going back to her work. With them all stood outside Trizzi’s office and the knowledge that kervos definitely has more ties than originally thought, it’s obvious where they have to go. 

It’s Naliah who ends up taking the lead as they walk down the hall to Kervos’ room. She seems to have a strange determination in her stride as she’s several steps ahead of everyone else. Maybe she’s made up her mind that he’s guilty and she’s ready to beat the shit out of him, she definitely could after all.

After several hard knocks on the door and no reply or even movement heard from within, it’s obvious he isn’t in. Cheese immediately goes for the handle to try to open the door but is met with a stern look from Cariston.

“What?” he asks. “He might be a murderer, we have to investigate.”

Cariston just sighs in response. “I guess you’re right. I’d hate if someone went in my room without permission is all.”

“You’re not some crazed murderer as far as we know. So don’t worry, your precious nerdy books are safe in your room” Cornelia says with a smirk, pushing down on the handle and then pouting slightly when it doesn’t open.

“Well, that sucks.” Elyza says dryly, looking around the group to see if anyone has anything else to add. No one seems to do anything, a few of them looking thoughtful before Cariston reaches into his pocket and pulls something out. Elyza watches in disbelief as he crouches down beside the lock and starts to pick it. There’s a tense moment where everyone seems to hold their breath waiting for the lock to click, but it doesn't. 

“That’s one tough lock.” He mumbles to himself, standing up again.

“Can I try?” Cheese asks, already making his way over and taking the tools out of Cariston’s hands before he can reply. Cariston seems to watch in horror as Cheese just shoves the delicate tool into the lock and shakes it about a bit.

“Cheese-”

“-You’re doing it wrong, this is obviously how its done.” Cornelia says as she all but shoves cheese out of the way and starts to wiggle in from side to side instead.

“Please don’t break it.” cariston says quietly, looking like he’s completely given up. Eventually both Cornelia and Cheese realise it isn’t working and let Cariston try again. He spends a good twenty or thirty seconds, moving the tools ever so lightly. His eyes squinting slightly in concentration when- click.

The door opens finally, and they all pile in quickly, suddenly aware that they’re quite literally breaking into someone's room. Like before, each of them start looking around the room for anything that could be a clue. It doesn’t take long for Cheese to find the missing book from the library, which him and Cariston seem to be fascinated by. Elyza doesn't really care for the book, she doesn’t understand all the magic stuff they all talk about. Instead, she spends her time in the room looking everywhere she can think of until she finds another kind of book. Flicking open the pages, she realises it’s a diary. 

Flicking through, the entries start long, ranging over several pages rambling on and on about classes and people. But then they start getting shorter. Slowly, one by one they’re shorter and shorter until the dates seem to span over months rather than days. They mention him being frustrated at his lack of progress, how he needs more power to succeed. The latest entry makes Elyza’s stomach sink as she reads it.

‘All the lessons, all the teaching, they don’t tell you the truth. It’s not learning that gives you power. Kalira, she showed me the truth. Its bargaining that gives you true power. That's how she gained her power. Now to learn how to use it. It keeps telling me it needs blood. The first only fed it for so long. Though now he serves me, and it granted me power. But I want more. I need more! Perhaps if I feed it a more gifted subject, it will grant me more strength. I have the perfect candidate in mind. When I graduate, I'm to meet Kalira and the rest of the cult on the fringes of the forest to the east. There our plans will unfold. But for now, I must grow in power’ 

“I, uh. I think we found our guy.” Elyza says, handing the diary to Cariston who’s frown seems to deepen as he reads. Everyone crowds around, trying to read over his shoulder. There’s almost a moment of excitement among them, that is until the words hit them and they all start to understand exactly what this means.

This wasn’t just a one off thing. This was planned, and there really is some psycho murderer among them. Elyza finds herself walking away from the group, the anger bubbling up inside her at the thought of this idiot killing an innocent girl, all because he has some deluded thought that he’ll gain power from it. It makes her feel so sick, and so fucking angry.

“Hey, this wardrobe is locked” Cheese says, drawing Elyza back to reality. He pulls the door trying to open it but it won’t budge. Cariston comes over to try, getting the same result before he also tries to pick the lock on it. It’s a lot easier than the one on the door and clicks open after a few seconds. Cheese thanks him and opens the door, instantly recoiling as something swings out at him. 

As Cheese and Cariston back up a smell of death and decay washes over the room. Elyza nearly gags from the smell of it, covering her mouth with her hand as she looks towards the now open wardrobe. There, climbing out with impossibly long limbs is a humanoid creature with white decaying skin. It’s hands are like claws, sharp nails scratching against the wood as it moves. It looks at them and gives this terrifying smile of razor sharp teeth.

ELyza’s first instinct isn’t to fight for once. It’s to run and get the fuck out of here. She takes a step back from where she is closest to the door, watching in disbelief as everyone seems to ready themselves for a fight. She just stares for a moment, it taking Naliah summoning her sword and running at the thing to snap her out of it. She quickly readys her bow and shoots an arrow, being careful not to hit Naliah who’s now slashing across it’s disgusting body. 

"Oh fuck no" Cornelia says with a snarl, flames erupting in her hands as she glares at the horrifying creature. She throws a bolt of fire at it, watching as its skin begins to burn, but it doesn't react. So far Elyza hasn't seen Cornelia show that much emotion, but now she sees it clear as day on her face as she takes a step back, firing off more fire attacks at it. Fear, she's scared.

Elyza shivers in disgust as she watches this monster get hit by attack after attack, only for it to grin wildly, looking completely deranged. It strikes back against Naliah, her crying out in pain as its claws rip against her chest. She seems to wobble on her feet, but manages to stay up right. Elyza thinks about running forward to help her, but she honestly does not want to get close to this thing. Naliah growls and attacks it again with her sword, speaking in a  harsh tongue that no one understands.

"Naliah, watch out!" Cheese shouts as he pulls something out of his pocket. Suddenly he throws his hands forward and a large puddle of grease appears beneath the monster. Naliah seems to slip slightly, but stands her ground. The creature on the other hand seems to shift and buckle to its knees before falling into its side when it tries to move again.

Time seems to slow down as they hit it with everything they’ve got. The creature doesn’t stay down for long, seeming to find its feet and stay up. Elyza fires as many arrows as she possibly can into it while avoiding everyone else in the room. Cornelia seems to be trying to do the same with her fire magic, but the small size of the room and how crowded it is is not helping at all.

It slashes and bites at Naliah, Its sharp claws slamming against her shield as she snarls and manages to push it back. Just as its broken bloody body looks as if it’s finally about to give up on it, Its eyes go wide and it tries to rush past Naliah to take a swipe at Cariston. Naliah seems to say something else in that same language from before as she stabs her sword into the creature stopping it in its tracks. It makes this horrifying moan that turns into a soft gurgling as it starts choking on its own blood. As she pulls her sword back with a scowl, it drops to the ground unmoving.

Elyza sighs a sigh of relief, finally being able to place her weapon away. The whole group seem to do the same, Elyza and Caristion both seeming to start checking everyone is okay at the same time. Their eyes meet, and for the first time that day Cariston doesn’t look so guarded and on edge. He smiles at her, making her stop what she’s doing for a moment. They seem to have some sort of unspoken conversation before she simply nods back at him. 

Cheese, who so far seems to have avoided getting even a scratch on him, quickly starts investigating where the creature came from. Cariston tries to warn him to be careful while he quite literally has his hands full with healing Naliah, but if course Cheese doesn't listen. 

He finds strange wards and spell tokens, things Elyza has never seen before in her life, but really that isn't that much of a surprise. Cariston seems to abandon his healing duty immediately to investigate them with Cheese. They talk quietly about what this all means. Elyza doesn't understand a lot of it, but she understands that Korves was doing really fucked up shit that they definitely did not teach him at the academy.

With everyone tended to and the creature definitely dead, they all instinctively know what they have to do now.

__________________________________________________________________________

When Trizzi is shown the diary, she pales considerably. She seems to just stare at the pages for a moment, looking lost in her thoughts as a tight frown pulls at her lips. Something about it troubles her dearly, which really it should. It’s probably the fact that one of her own students has been murdering his classmates for some greater being he’s decided he needs to grab favours for. 

She makes them all wait in the common room as she finds Varin to show him the diary. They only have to wait about twenty minutes before Varin appears with a few of his men. Elyza recognises most of them and they seem to give her strange looks to what she’s doing there. She has no doubt the rumours have spread by now about her.

“So, you found this where exactly?” Is all Varin says as he flicks through the pages of the diary.

“In Kervos’ room, obviously. I mean, it is his diary” Cornelia replies in her usual manor. 

Varin looks like he’s about to say something in reply to her disrespect, but he doesn’t. His mouth forming into a thin line as he reads through the last entry. “Well, this certainly does give some proof that he’s to blame. Do you have anymore?”

“There was this creature which he kept locked in his wardrobe. As soon as the doors opened, it attacked us. It nearly killed Naliah” Cariston says with a pointed stare, obviously not backing down just because Varin has more authority. “Go to his room, see for yourself.”

Varin stares him down for a moment before he turns to his guards and waves them off. They take the hint and quickly make their way down the hall. There’s a yell of surprise as the first one enters the room. A few seconds later a very startled looking guard reports back that there is in fact a dead horrifying creature in the room.

“Well, I think that solves it then” He says looking at the group. “Trizzi? Call him back.”

Trizzi seems to concentrate on something for a moment before she starts to speak “Erm, Hello Kervos. Can you please report back to the dorms, I need to see you” She waits a moment, looking over the group “Well, he got that message. So, erm,I imagine he should be returning soon. 

They wait. First about half an hour, then an hour. Time seems to go by at an incredibly slow pace. Elyza is just about to ever give up hope of catching this guy, when he walks into the room. He looks around, confused at first until it clicks exactly what is happening. He turns to leave again, but guards move to stop him. He turns around panicked, eyes darting around the room desperately.

“Don’t try anything, or we will harm you.” Varin warns in a stern tone. “Surrender. Now.”

Korves’ face crumbles as he realises what’s going to happen and he seems to give up in that moment. Seizing the opportunity, the guards flank him and bound his hand behind his back. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t scream or shout like you'd think he would. He just lets them do what they want. 

Elyza badly wants to plant an arrow right between his eyes for what he’s done. To Chell, to anyone else he’s hurt to try do something as stupid as win favours from a stupid higher being. She hates him, and she wants to use that hate to destroy him. But really, that doesn't make her any better than he is.

__________________________________________________________________________

Korves was found guilty for the murder of two students at the academy, and was executed for his crimes. The academy hasn’t felt the same since, but it's getting better. Elyza has stuck to her patrols, keeping out of any dramatic business. She’s seen the students around, shared odd glances and smiles with them, but that’s it. 

She’s heard rumours that they’re graduating early and going with Trizzi on some business for the academy. She’s also heard much more outrageous rumours that they’re only getting to go because they killed an army of demons, or that Cariston is sleeping with Trizzi. Elyza just laughs when she hears that one, gossip really can be a lot of fun when it's that ridiculous.

She doesn’t think that much on it all, happy for them that they’re getting out of this place. That is until she hears rumours that a guard will be getting chosen to escort them to the city they’re traveling to. She finds herself fantasizing about it while on the night guard, being able to leave this place and travel. 

She’s traveled before, but long ago and she definitely didn’t enjoy it. She’s older now, in a much much better pace than she was back then. She reckons she’d like the chance to get to go explore the word once again. Sure she’d be with a bunch of idiots who set each other on fire, but they work well together. If she had to have anyone watching her back, they wouldn’t be the worst people for it.

 A few days before they’re due to leave Elyza gets called into Varin’s office. She’s a bit scared she’s fucked something up and he’s going to scream at her. But as she walks in the room he offers her a drink as she sits down. She then nearly chokes on that very drink as he tells her that she’s going to be the one escorting them to Strasa. 

She has questions, of course she fucking does. As far as she was aware, she was going to be living out the rest of her miserable life working with the company. But apparently, he has other plans for her. He mentions how impressive it was that they not only managed to work together and bring korves to justice, but also killed that creature which he informs her is a ghast which should have definitely killed them. 

The job is simple: She has to escort and protect the kids as they travel to Strasa, after that she’s free to do what she wants. She can’t believe it. He gives her some money as a forward payment which she pockets eagerly, feeling like this must be a dream and she’s bound to wake up soon. 

It isn’t a dream. She wakes up the next day, then the next after that, and it's still as real as ever. Until the day they leave, everyone standing at the gate with their bags packed and loaded onto the cart. Trizzi fussing about, checking everything is ready. It’s real, it’s all real. 

She can’t help but smile as she boards the cart with the rest of them, ready to get the hell out of here and see what’s waiting for them.

[catescrit-blog]

FINAL: POSTMODERNISM AND REMIX CULTURE WITH “WEIRD AL” YANKOVIC

Music today have a lot to do with love, revenge, politics, and other topics. One musician on the other hand took popular songs on the radio and parodied them. “Weird Al” Yankovic writes and sings about things you don’t expect to hear on the radio or rarely in your life. Two songs, “White and Nerdy” and “Amish Paradise” are parodies that integrate with remix culture and postmodernist ideals.

Weird Al’s song, “White and Nerdy,” is a parody on Chamillionaire’s “Ridin’.” “Ridin’ ” is a serious song about the African american community while “White and Nerdy” is about a nerdy white man’s hobbies and lifestyle. The song satirizes and celebrates geek culture, referencing Dungeons and Dragons, renaissance fairs, coding, action figures - anything that’s nerdy. The music video even parodies other pop culture media. Examples are: Star Wars Kid, “Carl Sagan is my homeboy” shirt (originally “Jesus is my homeboy” shirt design), and MySpace.

He makes fun of caucasian stereotypes, such as “eating all of my sandwiches with mayonnaise”, watching “Happy Days”, and drinking earl grey tea. The music video starts with gangsters (comedians Keele and Peele) stopping the car, watching a white man mow his lawn. When noticed, Keele and Peele drive away, but Weird Al still wants to “roll with the gangsters.” Instead of the stereotype of caucasians afraid of african american gangsters, it’s the other way around in this video. No african american wanted Al to join their group because he’s a cringy, nerdy, white man. Scenes in the video show Al rejected by gangsters who give him the middle finger and confused looks.

In Chamillionaire’s music video of “Ridin’,” Chamillionaire visually depicts racial profiling, police brutality, and african american stereotypes. The police abuse their powers and treat african americans badly in both the video and real life. They think Chamillionaire is a criminal and fails to find illegal actions they think he pulled. A particular scene in the video shows the police looking at whoever is in the red car. Chamillionaire and the girl in the car turn into caucasians, which is a stereotype on how the police don’t arrest white people. Going back to “White and Nerdy,” Weird Al films a scene where he’s going to an african american dealer in a back alley. You’d think he’s going to the dealer for drugs, but since he’s a nerd, inside the paper bag is a copy of Star Wars: The Holiday Special.

Weird Al visually stays similar to Chamillionaire’s shots, such as the outfit, red road flares (Pacman vs a chameleon), and the white background with a featuring member (Donny Osmond/ Schrödinger equation vs Krayzie Bone/Chamillionaire). Both songs deal with two different ethnic communities, except Weird Al raps it in a hilarious way.

Another song Weird Al parodies is “Gangsta’s Paradise” by Coolio, but his titled  “Amish Paradise.” It’s another example of two different communities’ lifestyle in two different videos. The Amish are a group of Christians that still do everything traditionally. They do not associate with technology and communicate with outsiders, so they are never found in big cities.

The beginning of the video displays the environment the Amish are surrounded by, and that being nothing but nature. A horse and carriage go by, a first read that the Amish are still behind on transportation. Al looks menacing posing in black clothing until he starts to sing the first line. The long beard and loads of hair around his face is what an Amish man looks like. Everyone is dressed in plain, black clothing that hides most of the skin. Because they “shun electricity,” the the scene shows Amish stomping on telephones, laptops, and a Slim Whitman LP album. The next scenes are of Al milking a cow (but milking it into a bowl of Corn Flakes cereal), a friend feeding chickens with pizza, and another plowing the field. In a dark barn, a scary looking Amish woman appears in front of Al and sits on a chair. It’s the same style with “Gangsta’s Paradise,” when the woman in Coolio’s video sits on a chair and listens to Coolio speak. The chorus in both videos are similar - Al and L.V.’s (from Coolio’s video) side profiles are filmed while they sing the chorus in a steamy, dramatic atmosphere. Next scenes parody other things Amish do. A man looks at his stone-made watch and then up at the sky, because watches are another part of technology the Amish don’t have. Behind him is a person playing golf. “We sell quilts at discount price” plainly shows women selling quilts at a wooden booth that advertises, “our prices art insane!!!” It’s a parody on the Crazy Eddie advertisements. Next scenes are about the tourists and how they treat the Amish. A kid kicks Al, the obese tourists laugh and point, and two Asian tourists are bored as hell. The traditional phone is covered in webs because, “we haven’t even paid the phone bill in 300 years.”  Instead of road signs seen in the city, the signs in the video say “sin free zone” and “no fun.” The Amish do not live in luxury, but a plain life like Al said. Two Amish boys look at a parodied version of a porn magazine called Amish Babes, and inside is a centerfold of an Amish woman showing her leg up to her knee, which is considered a scandalous act among the Amish. In verse three of the song, Al states the Amlettes (a pun on “omelette”) want to be like him, and in the video it shows young children with beards sitting on his lap. “On my knees day and night scoring points for the afterlife” shows Al taking off his hat and his hair resembling his album cover “Bad Hair Day,” which both are a parody of Coolio’s hairstyle. The Amish woman who was sitting on the chair pushes it to the ground, like the lady in Coolio’s video does. The dramatic side view shot becomes humorously entertaining when water is poured onto Al’s face. The end of the video is interestingly filmed with Al syncing and walking forward but everything around him is in reverse motion. For this to perform correctly, Al is lip syncing while walking backwards, then the video is played in reverse. This is an inspiration from The Pharcyde's “Drop” music video.

“White and Nerdy” and “Amish Paradise” challenge the subject of stereotypes. These songs are a part of the remix culture due to the original songs turned into parodies, making fun of a community or using hybridity to compile multiple artistic references into one video. “Weird Al” Yankovic is became a celebrity because he made fun of other celebrities’ songs. It’s postmodernist because he is identifying societies and changing music in a hilarious way. Especially with “Amish Paradise,” the song displays traditional views of one community rather than the modern, city-life aesthetic. He’s making fun of certain groups, but we are learning about who and what these groups even do through song. That’s what makes “Weird Al” an artist who stands out using these styles.

White and Nerdy: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N9qYF9DZPdw

Ridin’: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CtwJvgPJ9xw

Amish Paradise: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lOfZLb33uCg

Gangsta’s Paradise: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fPO76Jlnz6c

Drop: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wqVsfGQ_1SU