#✦ ° • ☆ ◣ ▽ ┊visage • i’d rather die than give up the fight. )

[borisbubbles]

My favourite Dorian Quotes

Just as an addendum, since my previous didn’t exactly put across the hilarity of Dorian, here are my favourite quotes/conversations/reactions by Dorian Pavus in Dragon Age 3.  Edit 22/01: added a few more because Dorian just keeps giving.  60.  Dorian: Come on Varric, just answer the question. 😣 Varric: My mother didn’t raise any morons, Sparkler. 🙄 Dorian: But you must have an opinion! And you’re a Dwarf! Completely unbiased. Varric: There is no way I’ll answer “Which Inquisition Mage is the best dressed?”, not for all the gold in Orzammar. Vivienne: Also, the answer is obvious. 🙂 59. Dorian: So what's your estimation, Varric? Think we could win? Varric: 😱 You aren't asking me to give odds on our beloved Inquisitor's success?! 😛 Dorian: What would that look like? Three to one? 🤣 Varric: In his favor?  Dorian: After Corypheus pulled an archdemon out of his arse, are you joking? Inquisitor: You would actually bet against me?  Dorian: Now now, if I weren't here, it would be five to one at least. 😘 Inquisitor: I’ll take those odds, actually. 😏 Dorian: This is why I adore him so.  😍 58.  Cassandra: So Bull, about Dorian... Iron Bull: Yep, it’s true. 😁 Dorian: By all means, let’s discuss this all together. 🙄 Cassandra: If you’re both pleased Dorian: He’s happy, I’m happy, everybody’s happy!  Iron Bull: Awww, you’re happy. 😍 Dorian: 😣 Cassandra: 😄 57. You joke! they’ll be writing books about you, boring ones that will get it all wrong. Just you wait!   56.  Iron Bull: Yesss, we’re going to fight the dragon, boss? Oh THIS is gonna be GOOD.  Dorian: You are way too excited about this. 😑

55.  Blackwall: How do you get your hair to do that, Dorian? With magic? Dorian: With proper hygiene and grooming. Maybe the three of you should get acquainted. 🙄 54.  Cole: You’re happier now, Dorian Dorian: Oh is that what this light tingly feeling is? I suppose you’re right. 😏  Cole: Wishing but wondering, wounded and whistful Cole: What if he doesn’t want me after? Dorian: But he did. 😁 Cole: Now you’re smiling. It’s good.  😃 53. Varric: Does this shit make any sense to you? Dorian: Are you referring to the giant gaping hole in the sky, or the creature from a Chantry cautionary tale pretending to be a god? Varric: Either. I’m feeling generous. Dorian: What’s the matter? Some pretender comes along, tears the place down, declares himself king. That’s half of history. Varric: Corypheus is like that drunk uncle who refuses to leave the party? Dorian: Even after he puts a hole in the ceiling. Terribly common.  52.  Sera: You gonna warn me the next time you’re throwing your magic around? Dorian: As long as you’re careful where you shoot all those arrows Sera: You magic me, I’ll put three in your eye! Dorian: 😅 Now we can live together in peace and harmony!  51. Vivienne: Dorian, what did you think of little Sera’s last Red Jenny mission? Dorian: Hmm... I’d call it ‘medium’. 🤔 Vivienne: ‘Medium’, my dear? Dorian: It wasn’t rare, and it certainly wasn’t well done. 😏 50. Cole: Dorian, what is 'a slave'?  Dorian: FESTISBEIUMOCANAVERUM! 😨 Cole: You said I could ask questions! Dorian: I know I did, just... go ask the Inquisitor that one. 49. An optimist! 🤣  such a rare breed, I have stumbled upon a unicorn. 48. Dorian: What I wouldn't give for some proper wine.😫 Vivienne: Skyhold's steward is a sadistic little man who is trying to kill us. 🤢 Dorian: Perhaps he found a bargain he couldn't pass up, on vats of vinegar? 47. Cassandra: Why are you looking at me like that, Dorian? Dorian: I am trying to imagine what you would look like... in a dress.😈 Cassandra: Keep wondering. If my uncle couldn't put me in one, neither shall you. 46. Dorian: How do you want to be remembered, Cassandra? Valiant yet sexy rebel against the status quo? Cassandra: I don't have any control over how I'll be remembered. 🙄 Dorian: Sword raised high, blue scarf dramatically fluttering in the wind, sun rising behind you? Cassandra: Blue scarf?😒 Why would I be wearing such a thing? Dorian: It's a painting, of course! Work with me( It'll be fantastic! 🤗 45. Dorian: Why is it so cold? How do you southerners stand it? Iron Bull: What's the matter? Not enough slaves around to rub your footsies? Dorian: My ‘footsies’ are freezing, thank you! 😒 44.  Blackwall: Dorian, I’d appreciate it if you stopped refering to me as ‘that hairy lummox”.  😠 Dorian: When did I do that? Blackwall: At the tavern, the blacksmith’s, the stable. You said it to the gateguards when we left Skyhold! Dorian: hmm... 🤔 yes, that does sound like me.   🤗 43. Dorian: Watch out where you point that thing! 😡 Iron Bull: Dirty! 😏 Dorian: Vishante kaffas, I meant your weapon! 😡 42. Dorian: What would you say Blackwall's best feature is, Vivienne? Vivienne: His absence, of course. 🙄 Blackwall: I can hear both of you. 😒 41. Dorian: Did you know we are actually related Inquisitor? Inquisitor: We, what? Dorian: Not first cousins or anything. Can you imagine?  Dorian: I however did a bit of digging in my family tree, and somewhere down the netheregions of my line there was also a Trevelyan. Dorian: Perhaps the one who went to Ostwick to establish the branch? I knew we looked so alike for a reason. 😏 Inquisitor: Um, yay?  Dorian: Indeed! 😁 Yay! 40. I’m always nice. 😏 39. Dorian: I don't know if you've heard, but the rumours are that you and I are... intimate. Inquisitor: That's not such a bad thing, isn't it? Dorian: I don't know, is it? Inquisitor: Do you always answer a question with a question? Dorian: Perhaps you would like me to answer in a different fashion? 🤔 Inquisitor:  If you're capable. 😅 Dorian: 😘🥰😚 Dorian: 'If you're capable.' The nonsense you speak. 🤭 38. Dorian: You caught the eye of a young woman in that last village, Blackwall. Blackwall: I'm sure you're mistaken. 😒 Dorian: You're right. She was undoubtedly looking at me.🤭 37. Dorian: Vivienne, I have only the one question - why the Orlesian fixation with masks? Vivienne: It is The Game, darling. You never show the players your true visage. Dorian: A strange custom in a culture where people assassinate each other for putting too much salt in the soup Vivienne: An extra hurdle to be overcome. Fail at The Game, and you die. Dorian: And you people call Tevinter barbaric. 🙄 36. Dorian: You are smiling a great deal these days, Cassandra. 😉 Cassandra: I am not... smiling. 😒 Dorian: Now you're not, but only because I pointed it out to you. Cassandra: I am not a giddy schoolgirl! 😡 Dorian: That would have been easier to believe if you hadn't just blushed. 🤗 35. You’ll be surprised at the credit my tongue gets me, your Reverence.  34. Dorian: Sera, I see you are having fun with your illustruous paramour- Sera: WHAT? 😨 Is it showin'? Dorian: What? NO, oh heavens NO. 🤢 Dorian: I meant to ask if you're enjoying your new relationship. Sera: Then why not just say that? 🙄 Dorian: I did... in words you apparently don't understand. 😑 Sera: What's the point of words you know and others don't? Who'd you say them to? 🙄 Dorian: Letmejustdobothofusafavorandretractthequestion. 😡 Sera: Pity, because we're doing great. That's why I'm following her around with weirdies 🤗 33. It was fun to goad you, Cassandra. You get that knot between your eyes when you're flustered - Ah, look, there it is! Delightful!  🤗 32. Dorian: I half expect my mother to materialize from the crowd to criticise my manners. Inquisitor: Where would we be if you mother we really here? Dorian: Short one mage, after he's been dragged out by his earlobe. Inquisitor: I have a hard deal imagining that. 😅 Dorian: Picture me a young boy of five years then. She certainly always has. 🙄 31. Dorian: 'Official Mage to the Orlesian Court'. Well that sounds exciting. 🙄 Vivienne: It's an esteemed position, darling. One many mages should envy. Dorian: Yes, I suppose being paraded around like an exotic peacock is better than frantically running from templars. 🙃 Vivienne: Better an exotic peacock than one Tevinter rat amongst many. Dorian: Oh? A dig at my homeland? This should be fun. 😏 30. Sera: Dorian? Those words you say. What do they mean? Dorian: What, you mean like mendicant or ultimatum? 🤨 Sera: No, arse, when you're mad. 'Pish-anty cough-ass'. You're swearing, I know it. Dorian: Ah, 'vishante kaffas'. It's Tevene, relics of the old tongue. We still use the colorful phrases. Sera: And it means what? Dorian: Literally? 😏  'You shit on my tongue.' Sera: 😂 Why not just say that?  Dorian: A mystery for the ages.  29. Sera: Demons! Flappy robes! Dorian: Thieves! Dog Stink! Sera: Culty shits! Dorian: Treacherous teyrns! Sera: Wha- It’s not a proper game of ‘Your people are shit” if you just make up words. 🙄 Dorian: A ‘teyrn’ is a Fereldan title, just below that of a king. I thought you of all people would know that. Sera: Well that’s just... I... smartasses 🤬 Dorian: Too late! I believe that’s my round. 🤗 Sera: Piss! 😠 28.  Vivienne: You’re rather amusing, Dorian. Dorian: Your outfit’s entertaining, I’ll give it that.🙄 Vivienne: Pretending to be a shark from a land of sharks. But you’re not a shark and you’ll never be one, darling. They knew this as much as we do.   Dorian: I could have of course pretended, wore fancy clothes, convinced everyone I’m something I’m not.  Dorian: Then I could take a position at court, whore myself out, and desperately hope no one realizes what a fraud I am.  Vivienne: Such snapping for a fish without teeth! 😂 Inquisitor: I cannot believe the way you two speak to each other. 😨 Vivienne: Inquisitor whatever is the matter? We’re having a perfectly civil conversation. Dorian: It’s true. I’ve heard worse from the gardener back home.  27.   Dorian: Varric, you owe me five royals. I’d like them paid in candied dates. 😉 Varric: I haven’t lost that bet yet, Sparkler. Dorian: You said we would be arse-deep in trouble. This is more like knee-high. Varric: I didn’t specify whose ass, did I? 😏 Dorian: Leave it to a dwarf always lowering the bar. 🙄 26. I hope you tried the ham they were serving, by the way. Tasted of despair. Fascinating. 25. Dorian: Vivienne, we can continue this dance forever if you like. Vivienne: Certainly. Provided both of us are capable. Dorian: I mock Orlesian frippery and nonsense, you slam Tevinter decadence and tyrrany. Dorian: There's however something more important we must remember. Vivienne: And what might that just be? 🤨 Dorian: At least we're not Antivan. Vivienne: 🤢 Quite right. Thank the Maker. 🙏 24. Cassandra: You're not as handsome as you think, Dorian. Dorian: Ah, but I must be! Or you wouldn't have been thinking about it all this time.  😏 Cassandra: Anyone who claims it as often as you must be dreadfully concerned they're not. Dorian: Look at this profile - Isn't it incredible? Dorian: I picture it in marble. 😏 Cassandra: 😒 23. Flying cows over Minrathous? Preposterous! Okay that one is actually true, but the cows didn't have wings. 22. Dorian: I have only one question, Sera: did you cut your own hair?  Sera: Yeah. Why wouldn't I? 🙄 Dorian: You could try using something other than a rusty butter knife. Sera: Oh, excuse me while I dig up my diamond-studded hair-cutting whatevers. 🙄 Dorian: Scissors. 😏 The word you're looking for is "scissors." 😏 21. Iron Bull: Quite the stink-eye you've got going, Dorian. Dorian: You stand there, flexing your muscles, huffing like some beast of burden with no thought save conquest. 😡 Iron Bull: That's right. These big muscled hands could tear those robes off while you struggled, helpless in my grip. Iron Bull: I'd pin you down, and as you gripped my horns. Iron Bull: I. Would. Conquer. You. 😏 Dorian: Uh. What? 😨 Iron Bull: Oh. Is that not where we're going? 🤐 Dorian: No. It was very much not.😳 20. You can't call me pampered, Varric. 🙄 Nobody has peeled a grape for me in weeks. 19. Sera: Dorian are you going to warn me the next time you bust out in demons or sumthin? Dorian: 😂 How exactly do you picture me 'busting out’? Dorian: I am just walking along and *OOPS* - demon? Dorian: I mean it could happen, after years of training. You could also trip and impale your eye on an arrow. 😏 Sera: So are you going to warn me or not? 🙄 Dorian: Certainly. But only because you're so dear to me. 😘 18. Dorian: For being so unnerved by magic, you aren't shy about benefiting from its effects.🤔 Sera: I don't. I use normal things, not magic. 🙄 Dorian: You consider swathing yourself in flame or ice 'normal' and 'not magic'? 🤨 Sera: For one: it comes out a bottle. Sera: For two: I mess up, I get burned. You mess up, your head chucks up a demon. Sera: For three: Bottle, little burned, no demons. So there. 🤗 Dorian: That was only... you know, if it lets you sleep at night, never mind. 😒 17. Festis bei umo canaverum! I swear, if you don't come through this, I will kill you. 😖 16. Dorian: The first time I entered the Fade it looked like a lovely castle full of silks and gold. 😍 Dorian: I met a marvellous desire demon as I recall. We chatted and ate grapes before he tried to possess me. 😇   Vivienne: 🙄😒😠😡🤬 Dorian: Yes? I hear your southern Harrowings are slightly more strenuous. 😏 15. What do they call this place? A "bog"? Lovely word for it.  🙄 14. Dorian: Solas, what is this whole look of yours about? Solas: I am sorry? 🙄 Dorian: No, that outfit is sorry.😷 What are you supposed to be, some sort of woodsman? Dorian: Isn't that a Dalish thing? Don't you dislike the Dalish? Or is it some sort of statement? Solas: No. 😠 Dorian: Well, it says "Apostate hobo" to me. 😏 Vivienne: Unwashed apostate hobo, more specifically. 🙂 13. I AM TOO PRETTY TO DIE 😭 12. Dorian: Amatus, it's been so long. Did you miss me? Inquisitor: A little bit. Dorian:  😂 'a little bit' he says. I'll show you a little bit! Just you wait. 😏 11. Dorian: Sera, where do you get your arrows from? You have so many. 🤔 Sera: From your arse. That's where. 🙄  Dorian: My arse should open up a shop. It's apparently quite prolific. 😁 10. Ah, this reminds me of the time Mother took me boating in summer. Or rather, she had the servants take me on the boat while she sat inside with a cool drink.🙄  09. Inquisitor: Things are going well with the Bull, I take it? Dorian: He's glad I've returned, if that's what you mean. Nearly crushed three of my ribs with that ridiculous hug. 🙄 Inquisitor: You say that as if you don't like it. 🤨 Dorian: For such a great beast, he can be such a terrible sap 🙄 Dorian: [bullvoice] "I want to talk about my feelings, Dorian". Dorian: Ugh. 🙄 Inquisitor: 😂 you do like it Dorian: Quiet you! He'll overhear, and then where I'll be?🤫 08. Dorian: Sera, I cannot believe you, of all people, are scared of magic. Surely you can see nothing wrong with a properly used tool? Sera: What about all the mages waving their proper tools in people's faces? Dorian: There's an image. 😁 Sera: "What about Corfyface? How many proper tools does he have under him? Dorian: That's not... I don't think I can continue. 😬 Sera: I don't care how gifted you are, don't cram it where it's not wanted. 😡 Vivienne: Maker, how does she not know? 🙄 07. Just once we should enter a cave and see normal sized spiders. 🙄 06. Cassandra: After all the places we have been, I hardly expected us to find ourselves in another cave. Cassandra: Still, as mad as our lives had been, I would take any chance to be together.  😘 Dorian: Why seeker, after all these years, I never realized you felt this way!! Cassandra: ... Dorian: ... Cassandra: 😒 Dorian: Oh, you meant him. 😶 05. Mountains! 😠 Cold! 😠 "Let's bring Dorian!". 😒 04. Dorian: I heard a little rumour that somebody has been doing some training. As an assassin no less. Inquisitor: I thought the skills might come in handy. Dorian: Yes, I suppose a little flair is welcome, with all the killing you do. Inquisitor: I don't kill that many people. 🙄  Dorian: Are you joking? I'm only surprised you didn't kill someone walking over here. 🤨 03. Cole: Breath painful, stabbing, and then real stabbing, lungs full, frothing, scent of apples as it all goes black. Dorian: 'Death By Applepie' - A lovely poem by our dear friend Cole.  02. Blackwall: Corypheus, one of yours isn't he? Dorian: One of my mine? 🙄  Like a pet? 🙄 Like a giant darkspawn hamster with aspirations of godhood? 🙄 Dorian: "Dorian, why can't you look after your little friends. Corypheus peed on the carpet again". Dorian: In this analogy, 'the carpet' is Haven. 😏 Blackwall: Is he or isn't he a Tevinter magister? 😒 Dorian: Meaning 'the source of everything bad in the world'? They are the same, yes? 😑 Blackwall: Sigh. Feels that way at times. 🙄 01. Inquisitor: No matter what happens, I wouldn't trade the years I spent with you for anything. Inquisitor: I love you. Dorian: I knew you'd break my heart, you bloody bastard. 😭

[flowesona]

The Midnight Channel [1/2]

Yandere ??? x reader

Inspired by Persona 4 (2008)

“Have you heard about the midnight channel?” (Y/N) dragged her attention away from the rain drumming on the window of her classroom to see her friend leaning over to talk to her. 

“What?”

“If you look at the TV at midnight on a rainy night, you’ll see your soulmate.” Jungkook rested his chin on his hand as he spoke wistfully.

“Come on. Don’t tell me you believe in that nonsense? Sounds like someone made it up when they were bored.” (Y/N) snorted, but ceased her laughter when he didn’t seem to waver. 

“You’re kidding me?” Now, their friend Taehyung, who’s been quietly eating his lunch and enjoying their company joined the conversation to take (Y/N)’s side.

It was ridiculous to say the least. Jungkook was a reasonably intelligent guy. There was no way he could think all that soulmate hokey-pokey was legitimate, right? 

“Well, I know a friend who tried it, and he said it worked. We should try it tonight!”

“Yeah, right.” Taehyung raised an eyebrow, his lunch now forgotten as he dragged his chair closer to (Y/N)’s to help defend her side of the argument.

“Who do you think you’ll see?” (Y/N) humoured, only for Jungkook to shake his head somberly.

“Not saying. But we have to try it, I trust Namjoon to tell the truth-”

“Hey, (Y/N)!” Her friend was cut off by a sudden voice. A young man was standing next to her desk, rocking on his heels. Lunch was coming to a close and people were starting to reenter the classroom and take their seats, yet this pupil was drawn to stand by her desk instead.

“Hey…” She felt guilty for not remembering his name, letting her voice trail away.

“I heard that you’re single. And I was wondering if you wanted to go out with me?” The boy had such a giddy smile on his face it unsettled her to no end. 

“I’m sorry, but I don’t know you well enough.” (Y/N) tried to reject him as politely as she could, but he seemed adamant. 

“Just give me a chance? Please? I know I’m not the best looking guy around, what with that idol back in town, but I promise I will treat you like a superstar!” The raising of his voice was starting to draw attention to the duo, people even peeking in from the corridor to get a peek at the drama going down. 

(Y/N) felt the hairs stand up on the back of her neck. Sure, this boy seemed nice enough, but there was something about his smile that was so forced it hurt to look at.

“Leave me alone, I said-”

“Mr Kang, I don’t believe this is your classroom. Get out.” Before the situation could escalate any further, the student was grabbed by the scruff of his collar and pushed towards the door without the chance to say another word. The onlookers dismissed themselves, their chatter filling the halls.

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If having to deal with one clueless boy was bad enough, (Y/N) found herself being plagued by another before the day was through. Whilst Jimin had an undeniably kind heart and his softly spoken words were often what she leant on when times were tough, she wasn’t in the mood for company.

“You’re sure that you don’t want to come to my place? You know my mom’s an amazing cook, and I rented that new movie just in time for-”

“I’d rather just go home, Jimin. It’s been a tough day. Maybe another time.” (Y/N) gave her friend a reassuring smile before leaving, droplets of rain making her shiver lightly and clutch her parka over her body just a bit tighter.

Even so Jimin trailed after her, hoping to change her mind by gently pushing his umbrella into her hands so she wouldn’t get as soaked as she first expected and whilst the heartfelt gesture was appreciated, she was exhausted and not ready to deal with another person snapping at her heels.

After two minutes she stopped to talk, turning briefly to address the student, whose gaze resembled that of a kicked puppy more than anything.

“Go home, Jimin. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She plugged her earphones into her ears and let herself finally breathe as she heard his footsteps slowly fading, the light rain tapping against her umbrella in a soothing manner to 

Distract her from the embarrassing scene from earlier in the day. She became so caught up in her music she ended up colliding into someone’s chest. 

“Watch where you’re going, idiot.” The stranger spat at her. His blonde hair was becoming matted with rain and his clothes were barely protected by the heavy leather jacket as the downpour became heavier by the minute.

“I’m sorry. Here, do you need my umbrella?” 

The boy grimaced before reaching out to take it. Before he turned away, (Y/N) heard a quiet ‘thank you’ from under his breath as she took off in the opposite direction to get home before she became fully drenched.

Unbeknownst to her in her panic, the boy was staring after her, fingers clenched so tightly around the flimsy plastic handle that it was starting to hurt.

───── ⋆⋅ ☂  ⋅⋆ ─────

Rumours were quick to spread in the usually sleepy town. With its only claim to fame being the birthplace of a famous idol, people clung to whatever excitement they could find, and (Y/N) had already had several people texting her to ask about the dramatic event and offer words of comfort.

As she desperately tried to cheer herself up with a cup of cocoa and the warmth of her blanket, (Y/N) was still restless. She glanced over at the TV in her room, a big enough flat screen she’d weedled her mother into buying with her only child privileges. 

“If you look into your TV at midnight on a rainy night, you’ll see your soulmate.” 

She let out a chuckle at the thought. Yet, she couldn’t help glancing out the window to see the rain pelting down, nor checking her alarm clock to see it was three minutes to midnight.

There was no harm in giving it a try, right? After all, she could shove it in Jungkook’s face when she could conclusively say it was a stupid legend.

Suddenly, as she was caught up in her thoughts not even realising that she’d been staring into the screen in her daydream, the TV crackled to life. Through the heavy static she could see a figure. 

As shadowy as it was, she could somewhat make out Taehyun’s figure, seeing as his visage had all but plagued her for the day. (Y/N) shook her head, trying to make sure she wasn’t hallucinating but the image was gone as soon as she opened her eyes, leaving her kneeling in front of a blank TV screen.

Trying to erase the questions that plagued her mind (Y/N) crawled into bed, closing her eyes to rest for a while.

───── ⋆⋅ ☂  ⋅⋆ ─────

(Y/N) felt completely disgraced the next day. She could hear people whispering all around her about what had happened yesterday, how she’d rejected someone in such a cold manner. The story had flown around the school overnight, much to her dismay.

“Taehyun hasn’t turned up at school today. Do you think he’s heartbroken?” (Y/N) overheard a couple of her classmates gossiping.

“Poor guy. He just wanted a chance but she’s humiliated him in front of everyone.” One of the other girls replied. (Y/N) stood up abruptly, letting her chair fall onto the floor with a loud clang.

The noise drew everyone’s attention to her, but she just walked out trying her hardest not to burst into tears.

“(Y/N)!” She heard someone calling her name but it was white noise.

It wasn’t until there was a hand on her shoulder to stop her in her place that she snapped out of her hysteria.

“(Y/N), are you okay?” Through her slightly blurry vision she could make out Jimin, his face crumpled with concern.

“I-I-I’m fine!” She choked out.

“Is it that guy who was bothering you yesterday? We can just bunk off school today and you don’t have to see him. How does that sound? Let’s-”

“Leave me alone Jimin.” (Y/N) finally said with a heavy sigh. He was sweet, and she could tell he cared, but she just wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

“You don’t mean that, right?” Her friend was shocked at her abruptness, when she would normally find a much sweeter way to reject him.

(Y/N) didn’t reply, turning to walk away and her herself in the library only to have her hand snatched back.

“Whatever is wrong, you know you have me, right? If you want me to fight that Taehyun boy to the death I’ll do it to make you happy.” Jimin was almost pathetic in how he was pleading for her company. “Just let me help you.”

(Y/N) just slapped his hand away.

“Leave. Me. Alone.” She snapped, leaving the rejected boy to wallow in pity as she stormed off. Once again all eyes were on her, and regret was starting to build up, but she brushed it off in her pursuit of some serenity in the library.

The library, whilst still crammed full of students studying for their exams, provided some solice. The kind eyed library assistant had led her to a corner amongst the history books, and whilst he opened his mouth to say something - presumbaly to suggest a book, or offer her a drink - he closed it again upon seeing her stormy expression, and left her in peace.

───── ⋆⋅ ☂  ⋅⋆ ─────

Feeling more isolated and hated than before, (Y/N) spent the evening in bed with a book Jungkook had lent her, trying to immerse herself in the fictional world rather than facing the real one. However, the rain pattering against her window reminded her of last night. Was seeing Taehyun on there a trick of the eye? Was he really her soulmate? Or was there something more to it?

With her restless mind she was still awake as the clock crept towards midnight and, unable to quell her mind and knelt in front of her cold black television screen.

Once again, it flickered to life. But this time, rather than just showing a silhouette, there was something happening.

It was Taehyun, and he was crawling away from some other shadowy figure, obscured by the strong static.

“No… you’re not… I  love…” Through the muffled sound she could hear his voice, crying out as if he was witnessing a monstrosity. Her hand almost wanted to reach out to touch him, but she was frozen in place, only able to watch. She saw a flash of his face, terrified beyond all else, before the image cut out entirely.

She leant forward again, trying to see if it would come back, but the TV stayed black.  Switching it on only showed a late night horror movie, not the scene that she’d seen before. 

Was Jungkook’s friend right about the Midnight Channel showing your soulmate? Was she mistaken to reject the eager boy? And more importantly, what was happening to him? Was he in trouble?

Trying to erase the questions that plagued her mind (Y/N) crawled into bed, closing her eyes to rest for a while.

───── ⋆⋅ ☂  ⋅⋆ ─────

Maybe it was the caffeine from doubling the espresso in her usual coffee, but (Y/N) knew from the moment she stepped out the door that something was wrong.

The fog was so thick that (Y/N) could barely see ten metres in front of her. Still she persisted, hoping that by being early she could get an extra hour of studying in before someone would bother her. There was the occasional passerby - one of the school librarians hurrying past with a heavy book bag weighing down his back, a shopkeeper with their keys in hand to open up in time, and a leather-wearing stranger on a noisy motorbike. Even with these small reminders that civilization was alive and well amidst the weather, there was still an eerie atmosphere.

And (Y/N) was right to be afraid. The fog’s density was not enough to hide the secret waiting for (Y/N) as she turned the corner. When her eyes landed on the sight she staggered back, the urge to puke stronger rising up.

There was a corpse dangling from the telephone line.

Everything seemed to blur together, from her screaming for help to one of the passersby calling the authorities in the place of the shell shocked (Y/N), to someone finally pulling her away and covering her eyes.

Her mind was static as she felt someone comforting her, pressing her face to their hard chest. The regular heartbeat helped soothe her breathing, and the scent of cologne enveloped her sense to numb the pain. 

She didn’t question the comfort for a second, relishing the warmth and protection from the sight that was sure to haunt her for the rest of her life. The sight of her former admirer, a sweet innocent student, hanging from the telephone pole.

“You’re okay, (Y/N). Don’t look. You’re safe.”

───── ⋆⋅ ☂  ⋅⋆ ─────

“So you’re telling me prior to yesterday you had no contact with Mr Kang at all?” For what felt like the hundredth time that day, (Y/N) shook her head.

“Well, as soon as you sign your statement you’ll be free to leave. Take care.” The detective didn’t offer her any consolation as (Y/N) attempted a signature with her shaky hands.

She was so ready to collapse into her bed, but there was still something tugging at her.

“Do you know about the midnight channel?” She spoke up, her voice slightly hoarse.

“Is this related to the case at hand, Miss (L/N)?” The detective had a sour grimace, his forehead creased with the stress at hand, and (Y/N) felt slightly worried about poking the bear.

She shook off the feeling.

“I’m not sure. But thank you, I’ll go now.”

It couldn’t be just a coincidence. There was some connection, and (Y/N) wanted to seek the truth even if the police force could not.

Stepping outside, she felt a weight on her chest as heavy as the fog. Somewhere in the sleepy town was a murderer. They were perfectly blended in, you could see that much. Life was going on, people briefly discussing the murder under hushed breath before discussing the more conventional gossip aloud.

Even with some unknown guilt burdening her mind, (Y/N) could slip into life again as she found her friends waiting outside for her, Jungkook giving her a warm hug and Taehyung offering her a bottle of water seeing how wearing the morning had been. 

Even as she walked home with her friends, there was still something amiss in their sleepy town. And the trouble lay closer than she could possibly imagine.

Part 2/2 coming 11/09/20

[draven-imani]

Journal 5 (part 1)

We’ve had an…extremely productive day. We found a note on Hosilla’s person that detailed three safehouses of the cult of Baphomet: Nyserian Manor, Topaz Solutions, and the Tower of Estrod. The note was signed SV—which I’m assuming is Stauton Vhagn. Looks like he came back and finished the job of destroying the Wardstone after Commander Tirabade stopped him the first time.

After talking to Aravashnial, Anevia, and Horgus, we pooled our information together. Nyserian Manor was owned by a noble who sometimes worked with Horgus, and had taken out a loan from him once to buy Commander Tirabade’s sword from her. Anevia hadn’t been aware Irabeth had sold her sword—apparently she’d told her wife she’d lost it. Anevia was going to be having words with the commander of the Eagle Watch upon seeing her again.

The Tower of Estrod was of interest to Aravashnial, as it was a place of arcane studies. He also requested that we look into the Blackwing Library, where the Riftwardens would be located.

Anevia wanted to look for Irabeth, and therefore would like to look into going home as that was the only lead she had on where her wife may be.

As we discussed, we exited the subterranean tunnels and entered the sewers. And came upon three orphan kids and a middle aged pinkish tiefling woman with many piercings and a bow. The orphans immediately ran to Luna, clearly familiar with her. Another point in her favor for ‘good person, not a murderer/serial killer/whatever else the rumor mill decides to say’.

“So you must be ‘Una’,” the tiefling said, imitating the orphans mispronunciation of her name. Or maybe legitimately mistaking her name for that. “Nice to meet you, incase you haven’t noticed, everything’s gone to hell.”

The tiefling introduced herself as Hiskaria. She had arrived in town from Numeria recently to join the Raven Corps, actually, although she was apparently a Kenabres native initially. She was on lone by one ‘Kevoth-Kul’, because she was a criminal on parole, and joining the Raven Corps was her penance.

Ouch.

Aaaaaand as the only member of the Raven Corps around that means it fell on me to keep her around until we could either find her handler or someone with more authority. That and strength in numbers. We couldn’t exactly leave her behind, even if she is a confessed murderer.

Oh, yeah, I didn’t mention that her crime was murder did I? Yeah, our new buddy’s a convicted murderer. One fake murderer and one real one, and if I had to put money on it, everyone’s going to get who’s who wrong.

After some discussion, we decided to head for Horgus’ manor first. It would provide a safe place to leave the orphans, so that we wouldn’t be dragging them around in the open where every demon still lurking around might decide to swoop down on them.

We made it there with only minor incident, some rat demon ripping up a clothing store who dubbed himself ‘the rat king’. He was of personal offense to Melody given that he was in the process of destroying things of beauty. That and the owners of the shop were still there and might be able to salvage some things.

Given my studies I was able to identify the demon as an Abrikandilu, a wrecker demon. A destroyer of beauty, not just of artwork like the dresses, but of physical beauty, using their fangs to cause horrible scarring on those they attack. I also knew that Radiance was the only weapon we had that would pierce its defenses, although it also had a unique weakness to mirrors, due to all demons of this kind having an abhorrence of their own visage. That being the case, I suggested that Luna and Melody slip into the store to get one of the mirrors from the changing rooms within while I distracted and fought it with Radiance and Hiskaria took pot shots at it from a safe distance.

Radiance and I were both more than happy to finally be putting a demon to the blade.

Spilling demons’ blood, at least, we both agree on.

Things went off about how we’d hoped. The Abrikandilu was a bit faster than I’d anticipated and it rushed me rather than me pinning it by the building as I’d planned, but I stopped its fangs with my shield and avoided any new scars. Melody and Luna came out with a mirror, which drew the demon’s attention. Luna’s axe stuck into it. Then Radiance slew it.

Radiance roared in my head each time it drew blood against a demonic foe, in what I can only describe as ecstasy. They, at least, get joy from battle. I wish I could say the same, but the demons die all the same. I feel good about it, that we slayed the demon and helped those people. It’s something good. Not joy, that’s too strong of a word. I feel—satisfied, maybe?

Regardless, the shop owners thanked us. They had little to offer and we tried to assure them that we didn’t need anything, but they insisted on at least providing us with a nice outfit each in thanks. I don’t think I’ve ever owned anything so fine. An orphan and a soldier don’t exactly make for elegant living.

Afterwards we made it to Horgus’ manor with no further incidents. His holdings were untouched. Melody mused at first that perhaps someone was trying to frame him. However after some thought, Hiskaria and I disagreed with that assessment. Demons by nature would seek out where the most people are, the places where they could wreak the most havoc. And as we approached it was clear that his manor was devoid of life. It would seem that his men and his servants had fled their posts when the attack happened, and as a lucky result the manor had been untouched. I’ll give Horgus some credit here. While he was clearly visibly upset that the men he’d hired to protect his holdings had left their posts, he tried very hard to be reasonable that it was for the best that they’d left and protected the servants, and that it had indirectly kept the demons from destroying his things. He was however very upset that they’d taken all of the mints from the little bowl at the front entrance—as was Miss Melody, who bemoaned that it was quite rude of them. Ah what I would give to have her priorities.

Luna was shepherding the orphans—one of whom, Hamm, had taken a shine to Hiskaria’s magic and gotten it into his head that he was going to…what was it? Summon demons in his snot bubbles? Charming kid. Glad his entire world falling apart around him didn’t completely destroy his sense of innocence and wonder. Suppose he was lucky he ran into Hiskaria so the three of them didn’t get killed or worse. That’s a point in her favor.

After gathering up food from the kitchen and some entertainment for the kids from a room formerly used for the staff’s children while they were on the job, Horgus went down to the safest part of the manor: the vault. He opened the safe, which proved to have been completed untouched. Inside was more wealth than I’d probably ever seen in one place before, or ever will again. He paid Luna that looked like a rather hefty sum. Then he also paid myself, Melody, and Hiskaria 1000 gold for returning him here safely, although payment had never been promised. Hiskaria tried to argue that she’d only just joined with us, but he said that it was payment due to someone who couldn’t be here to take their cut.

Horgus…is a complicated man, I am beginning to realize. I cannot pin him down yet. Even more than most people, his words and actions do not align. And even some of his actions I think are more masks on top of that. Luna insists he’s a good man but won’t give details beyond that. She’s had a few private conversations with him, so I’m inclined to believe she knows something that’s given her that impression. And I trust Luna’s judgement in people.

As Horgus locked himself away, we heard the beginnings of him teaching the kids something or another about some…math thing. I don’t know, look, I’m not the one to look to about Abadar tax bracket stuff. Luna was just glad he was hopefully keeping Hamm from thinking about snot demons.

From there we went next door, to Nyserian Manor. Or what was left of it. Which was not much. At all. Or anything, really. See, the demons hadn’t been very discerning in their building demolition. They’d destroyed their own safehouse. Idiots. Served anyone who was inside right for betraying humanity to the demons.

Next up was Blackwing Library.

Oh Blackwing Library. This one made me angry.

If you know me you know that’s bad. Of course, you don’t know me, because you’re just a bundle of inanimate papers sandwiched in leather that I’m writing in to keep my tenuous grip on sanity together. Suffice to say: that’s bad. I don’t get angry easily. Unless you’re a Deskari worshipper or waving his symbol in my face like I’m a bull, but I mean, that’s just asking for trouble from any Iomedaen, really.

As we approached the library, it was immediately apparent that the entire thing had been decimated. Aravashnial was despondent. All of his friends and colleagues with the Riftwardens would have been there, and he feared the worst. While Melody and surprisingly Hiskaria tried to comfort him, Luna tried to sneak closer to look into the library. I stuck close to her, although not so close as to blow her cover.

What she saw was a turncoat Iomedaen with five librarians bound and gagged, and a sixth librarian being forced to pile books around them, to serve as both a book burning and a funeral pyre.

We didn’t have long to think as he pulled out the flint and tinder. Luna downed a potion of invisibility and vanished. We had to put our faith in her. And as usual, she didn’t let us down, as a moment later blood splattered across the floor and she reappeared behind the armored man with her hood up and a declaration that she was “the Butcher of Balestreet, Bitch”.

The cavalier’s two tiefling thugs tried to flank Luna, but I helped fight off one and Hiskaria finished them with a potshot from outside the door that got him right between the eyes, while Melody swooped in to take a stab at the other.

Luna clearly outmatched the man she was facing, and he was smart enough to realize it. He dropped his weapons, and offered to surrender. He swore if we let him go, he’d never do such a thing again.

The others seemed ready to let their guards down.

I didn’t buy it.

I could feel it. This was an evil man. The kind who would just turn around and do something like this again the second he had an opportunity, if we let him live.

Luna lowered her weapon to go deal with the tiefling thug. I told her what I just wrote, that if we let him go he would just harm others. She said it wasn’t going to be her choice to make.

If anyone was making this choice, it was going to be me, and me alone.

Melody tried to reason that maybe we could get some information out of him. That we could take him alive, and question him. After all, that’s what she was best at.

And then what, I asked her. What do we do with him after that? There weren’t any jails. The city was in chaos. Where do we put him when we’re done questioning him so that he doesn’t hurt anyone else?

He swore again that he’d just go away and be good. I called bullshit.

Melody said maybe he’d know more about the safehouses, or the other plans. What we’d potentially be walking into.

Fine. For the safety of the rest of the group, I’d take him alive.

So I punched the cocky bastard in the face and left him to Melody.

Hiskaria and Luna went about helping the librarians while Melody did her thing. She manacled the man and tied him up for a nice friendly chat. I stuck around. I didn’t trust this man. Kaleb, I learned his name was. Much good it did.

Melody woke him up. First thing he did was tried to play ignorant. Tried to pretend like he’d been possessed, like he hadn’t been in control of his own faculties before.

Bullshit. More lies.

Melody saw through his lies this time just as much as I had. She told him to start over and try again.

Next he tried to weave a sob story about how he’d been coerced into doing what he’d done. How he was a crusader who’s unit had been taken captive, and he’d been forced into committing evil acts out of desperation.

Again, nothing but lies. All he knew how to do was lie, habitually, spew whatever falsehood he thought would get him in our good graces.

When Melody and I called him out on it again, he snapped. In a final act of rebellious desperation, he finally told the truth. He’s nothing but scum of the earth. He was a crusader, and his unit had been wiped out, that was the one honest thing that had left this mouth. Afterwards he’d decided to hedge his bets and side with the demons, so he started committing every atrocity he could to try to win their favor. And he swore that when he died and went to the pits of the Abyss to be reborn he’d come back.

And flay us alive.

Bad choice of words.

I think the bull metaphor before was apt, because I certainly saw red for a moment. I don’t think anyone was in disagreement when I stabbed Radiance through his blackened heart at this point though.

We didn’t learn anything though. Except that he wasn’t a cultist. Just a psychopath who found an excuse to start killing people.

As we discussed our next course of action, the librarian we’d rescued approached us. He knew that Aravashnial was with the Riftwardens, and he knew what had happened to them. The Riftwardens after locking what they could in their vault had teleported to a different location, meaning Aravashnial’s friends were safely somewhere else. Unfortunately, a day later someone else arrived. Xanthir Vang. Another of Deskari’s generals. A worm that walks, a terrible creature that is both a swarm and one being bound to Deskari’s will. Xanthir cut through the floor, right above where the vault would be in the secret Riftwarden floors below, and lifted the entire vault from the floor. Then he ripped it apart like it was nothing. He seemed disappointed that the Riftwardens weren’t there—predictably, I suppose, since he had a personal grudge against them.

We found a single dead and dried up worm husk in a corner of the room. I don’t like this. It’s probably my imagination that my arm itches. Probably. Another of Deskari’s generals so close. That’s…terrifying.

With this information tucked away, we decided to head for Anevia’s home to look for clues of where Commander Tirabade may be. Mostly to make sure her wife was safe, and to inform her of everything we’d found out thus far, and a little tiny bit to ask her about that sword she’d apparently sold behind her back.

On the way, we were accosted by a skeletal demon from atop a building, who also called himself the rat king. He claimed the one we’d defeated before was a usurper, and then summoned a swarm of dire rats to attack us. We dealt with the dire rats handily enough. They took a few chomps at me, annoying little things. Between rats and lizards, do I just taste good or something?

Nope, just licked my hand to test it, I’m quite certain I do not taste good.

We arrived to a small unassuming house. Irabeth’s funds clearly went to things other than worldly possessions. Not that it was a bad house. I’m not trying to be judgmental of Irabeth Tirabade I’m just saying with her position most people would have much larger quarters, so she clearly puts hers to good use elsewhere. I’m not one to judge small living quarters, I live in the barracks. Which probably are in ruins now. Ah, well. Not like I had anything of sentimental value in there anyways. My fiddle, my sword, and my shield were on my person, those were the only things I might have cried over losing. And then my sword got forcefully replaced by a talkative holy blade anyways.

I wish I could say Radiance is growing on me like Horgus. Unfortunately, we got off an extremely wrong foot and they haven’t exactly tried to mend any bridges. Luna says I should be more assertive with them, since I’m the only one who can wield them, they need me to do their holy mission they want. And Radiance even agreed with her, because of course they did.

Figures. A guy tries to be nice to the holy sword who he’ll have to be working with for the foreseeable future and apparently even trying to just not make waves with the being you’ll have to work with talking in your head is the wrong move.

Fine…assertive. What do they want me to do, put Radiance in time out in their little box when they get uppity? That is a funny image though.

I’ve completely lost my train of thought.

Right, reread a few paragraphs, Anevia’s house. So, Luna and Melody took a peek inside to make sure nothing was lurking around inside.

Predictably, something was lurking around inside.

He was invisible, but when Melody began using detect evil he ‘pinged’, so she had an idea of where the invisible presence was. The invisible presence summoned a fire beetle outside to attack Anevia, but Hiskaria turned and shot it dead before it got a chance.

Melody and Luna had a good idea where the invisible foe was, and began to force him back into a corner, although their swings of axe and glaive kept hitting nothing but air.

I came in, and I swear to you Iomedae guided Radiance’s blade. Not only did I strike true, from the amount of red that splattered across the ground, I’m certain I hit something vital. That, and I made him very angry. The next thing I saw was an enraged orc, whose invisibility faded away as a blast of fire was released from his hand point blank in my face. Too familiar. Far too familiar. And then darkness.

And then I was awake again, Melody tipping one of my potions into my mouth. Luna had bloodied the orc, but he’d refused to go down in his blind frenzy. Then Hiskaria had stepped in and finished the job.

I proceeded to heal myself a little more thoroughly while the ladies talked to Anevia about what just happened.

Huh, now that Aravashnial and Horgus are gone I am the only guy in the little group of ours, aren’t I?

The prettiest guy in our group by default as well, not that that’s saying much.

Anevia recognized the orc, he was someone who Irabeth had stopped from some previous scheme years back, who she’d left out in the world alive. Apparently, he came back for revenge. He won’t be getting a third chance.

With that settled and no more assassins lurking about, Anevia went to her and Irabeth’s bedroom and opened a secret compartment. Inside she read a note and took out some supplies. She told us that Commander Tirabade and the other remaining Crusaders were hiding out at the Defender’s Heart tavern, and the passcode to get in was “Silverstrong”.

We decided to go straight there, as it was closer than any of the safehouses, and allies were still more useful than victories at the moment.

I was especially feeling that way when that damn skeleton ‘rat king’ showed up again, and threw a flock of vultures at us. Most of which decided to descend upon me. I know vultures are a bad omen but come on, that’s too on the nose even for me. What’s worse? Do you know what’s worse? What’s even worse than vultures? Fiend vultures. These things could smite. I had, no joke, five buzzards smiting me like a bunch of feathery antipaladins.

Just my cursed luck again. Why does Desna hate me?

So, yeah. I was hurting. And really wanting some rest. While everyone else was ready and raring to go for two more safehouses after we finished meeting with the Commander. I finished healing myself again and I was almost tapped out of spells, and completely out of potions. My fervor was wearing thin as well. Luna was all well and good, she didn’t use spells. Hiskaria was fine, she mostly only used her cantrips to empower her bow to fire twice—a neat trick that didn’t really cost her anything. Melody had used one judgement and some spells but she was just fine and equally ready to go.

Ever the weak link.

Eh, no point thinking like that, right? Plenty more happened after that. We arrived to Defender’s Heart and gave them the passcode. They came out to meet us, initially excited to see Anevia.

Then they saw Luna, still with her hood up in her Butcher guise from our fight earlier.

Oops.

We tried to explain that this wasn’t what it looked like. That she wasn’t actually a murderer. That the rumors and stories and reports were wrong. Anevia tried to back us up. Luna took off her hood, and pointed out that she drank one of the two of them under the table at this very tavern just a few days prior, and no one got hurt. Despite our best efforts, tensions were raising. The guards were going for their weapons, and we were surrounded. The paladins were throwing accusations, and no one was listening to our words, they were only hearing what they believed to be true.

Then a strong hand came down on both of the guards’ shoulders. A voice spoke, and told them that maybe sometime they should try actually using the gift Iomedae grants them to detect evil.

Irabeth Tirabade stood behind the two guards, in the flesh, as…everything as I ever would have imagined. Tall, proud, honorable, noble.

The guards scrambled to cast the detect spells, and predictably found that Luna was not evil. They were puzzled but relaxed somewhat. Then jumped and went for their weapons again when they looked in Hiskaria’s direction.

The Commander told them that it was alright, and held up some papers, saying all the paperwork was in order for Hiskaria.

It looked like she was officially Raven Corps now.

Commander Tirabade picked up Anevia and carried her inside, and asked the four of us to follow. She got to quarters where she could lay Anevia down, then turned to me.

And the conversation went something like this.

“Acting Captain of the Raven Corps,” she said.

I was flabbergasted for a moment then realized she had to be talking to me because there was literally no one else she could be talking to. “Me?”

[permian-tropos]

Daniil - Liberosis

Didn’t think this prompt word would become so poignant so soon. The subject matter wound up kind of surreal and taking whatever path I thought might be interesting but sometimes it’s nicer to let other people search for meaning in something. 

IDK yeah I just wanted to publish this. Contains canon-typical misery.

Liberosis: The desire to care less about things.

-

It rains again, always with that damn rain, and inside of each puddle in the street is the reflection of a man with cold eyes. They’re a little bit sardonic, as if the protective cloth tied over his mouth obscures a world-weary smirk. They track movement deliberately, and never dart or flash.

When did this happen? When did his features freeze in place like this? It’s interesting. The last time Dankovsky saw his own reflection, he was burned out like a candle stub.

This is better. You’d rather see a second wind from the Capital doctor on his rounds, a man who cares less and does more, even if what he does isn’t much use to anyone. It’ll give people less reason to panic.

The plague is spreading on the wings of panic. That’s why the patrolmen show no mercy to the sick, those shambling mummies, when they stray into the streets.

Dankovsky never gave such an order. The man in the puddle wears his intentions well: But I wouldn’t countermand it.

When you think about it, the only way to fight the plague is to resist your natural human desire to seek help, or even the comforting touch of another; instead you must succumb in solitude, to save others.

The nature of epidemics really is to target the most precious aspects of our being…

“What do I do? What do I do? I’m lost…”

Dankovsky first expects that wheedling voice to come from a child, but it’s too knowing, like it’s playing a game.

Sometimes they’re called mimes, but they talk too much. They’re more amused by the circumstances than the name Tragedian suggests. Subconsciously, Dankovsky has gotten into the habit of treating them as if there is not a human under that patchwork black cloth, but paper stuffing, or an animated wire frame. They’re an oddly useless counterpart to the orderlies, and they certainly don’t answer to the Bachelor.

“One of you?” he sighs, backing up a few steps. “What do you want from me this time…? Get it over with.”

The masked man dawdling under the streetlamp tips its head slowly one way, then the other. “His Excellency thinks I spoke to him?”

“I’m the only one on the street. Unless you’re raving, in which case I have no time for lunatics.”

“How cruel. In any case… I’ve lost my mask.” The Tragedian shields its eye-holes from the rain with a hand, and looked far and wide.

“It’s right on your head,” Dankovsky grouses. “Now what’s my reward for finding it, a bag of marbles? Or wait, you’ve lost those too.”

“Oh, no, not this. This is my face. You see how blank and plain it is? It wants a character, a role to play. A mask, a mask.”

Dankovsky folds his arms. “What about playing a man who doesn’t leave his house… wherever he comes from, his burrow, his den, and doesn’t get himself into trouble?”

The Tragedian offers an apologetic shrug and spread palms. “I tried it but alas, it weren’t for me. I didn’t know my lines, and came too late…”

The Bachelor mutters, “You’ll be a dog soon – playing dead.”

“I’ve lost a mask of careless cruelty… I think it would be fun to wear a while. It grins at simple victories and doesn’t shed a tear for those less fortunate. I’d like to be the one who laughs in Hell…”

“Fine, I’ll look for something like that… I suppose.” It wasn’t the first bizarre request he’d taken, and been able to fulfill despite not understanding it at first. Whatever the Tragedian was looking for, it would turn up eventually.

Now the Tragedian was clasping its hands together, pleading. It was remarkably expressive for having, as it said, such a blank face. “But if perhaps you’d let me borrow yours…”

“That’s completely unsanitary.” What kind of idiot request was that?

“I mean the one behind the cloth, the visage that regards the world so icily…”

The Tragedian pokes an impudent, spidery finger right between the Bachelor’s eyebrows, which pinch together in great chagrin.

“I don’t know what you’re getting at… but I get the impression you’re not asking for a real object.” He slaps the finger away. “If you want to wear my face, playact all you like. Just don’t impersonate me to anyone important, or use my name for any stupid ventures. Or you’ll regret it.”

Dankovsky leaves the actor to mime out his gratitude, head fervently bowing, clasped hands pumping up and down. He’d expected to get something out of this exchange, but perhaps it’s a longer-term investment. Or it’ll be quite the farce when the thespian starts wandering around the town pretending to be him. He’s not sure what he’s given away.

Signal fires mark the start of an infected district. He tightens the cloth around his mouth and nose and rushes in. There’s one house in particular he has to visit, so he very much intends to keep his head down all the way there.

His ears are assaulted by wails of the dying, carried far even by stagnant windless air.

At first he doesn’t understand why his skin is prickling. Senseless paranoia.

I gave away my mask…

It doesn’t mean anything!

But something’s changed in him for sure.

Even though it’s illogical, he’s shivering like ice has been poured down his shirt.

His eyes catch movement and he jolts away at first, because he’s learned to flee whenever a human shape stumbles across his path in districts like these. One filthy touch from any of these walking corpses could pass on the infection.

“Don’t,” he whispers. “Don’t come near me…”

“Help us…” the mummy gabbles. It’s sobbing under the linen wraps, but those cries might be of relief as well as pain. “Please, please, you’ve got to help us… I’ve been looking all over for a doctor… You’ve got pills, haven’t you? Kind sir… spare us something… even just a sleeping draught…”

Dankovsky should be fleeing, and he’s frozen instead. He should do the compassionate thing and put a bullet through this faceless cloth-wrapped head, and he cannot. He has the unsettling thought he would rather turn the gun on himself.

The supplicant takes his inaction as permission. Its hand has seized him and is crawling up his forearm, creeping as surely as a mold on a wall.

“There must be something…” the infected one pleads. “If only to… I just wanted to… oh, but it’s so… my head’s spinning… I can hardly hear myself, can you hear me? Am I speaking? Are you there?”

More dying souls are shambling out of the alleys and either they can smell healthy skin like sharks smell blood or they’re spotting him through the gauze over their eyes and immediately recognizing him. Two have emerged from behind one building… a third and fourth from a park…

The dead come to drag him down into the earth. Rain pours down his cheeks.

“Hey!”

There’s someone behind him, shouting, but he doesn’t realize it’s directed at him until—  

“What do you think you’re doing, dummy? Dummy Dankovsky!”

“Hah?” He’s unstuck when that strident childish voice pierces his ears through the white noise.

In comes charging none other than the wandering saint girl, shoes pattering and splashing through the sodden pavement. She spreads her palms out like she’s pushing out a great wave of force from them, some kind of heavenly wind, and even though no immediate magic goes off with a theatrical bang and puff of smoke, the sickened townsperson withdraws.

Clara catches Dankovsky’s arm. Her grip is mighty steel.

“You didn’t think you could heal them with your touch, did you?” Her tone is either mocking or heartachingly sincere. She’s too peculiar to ever be one thing or another, so maybe it’s both. “Don’t… don’t get those funny ideas into your head, okay? You’ll make people worry about you…”

Of course he finds her words ironic, but not surprising. It’s the usual way that young people parrot the things they’ve been told by others, as a way of expressing concern.

Especially ironic now that she’s extending her free hand towards the bandaged wretch, with a strained but beatific smile, flashing white teeth. Her fingers unfurl, flexing, preparing for an incredible sleight-of-hand.

“Don’t be scared,” coaxes the Changeling. “I’ll take care of you!”

“Careful—!” the Bachelor croaks, voice stolen by panic. But he still waits with bated breath, wondering if he’s about to witness a miracle.

But as soon as Clara’s palm brushes the gauze-wrapped fingertips, the infected person’s hands turn to claws. They gasp and clutch their chest, rocking on their heels, head bobbing.

It’s almost as if they’re trying to express a profound devotion and love that cannot fit inside them. Then they exhale without a word, collapsing in a heap, like a thread over their head has been snipped.

Clara’s smile shrinks by millimeters. Water droplets slide off it, dropping from the corners of her lips.

“Why…?” Her query is a quiet chime, a small tolling bell.

“Leave it, leave it. It was a myocardial infarction,” Dankovsky mutters. “Plainly, a heart attack. It’s usual for them to die like this in the end… Perhaps they were startled by us… Overwhelmed by a moment of hope.”

“I thought I was the one who healed…” the girl says, eyes fogged with confusion. “I mixed it up… Even we can’t tell us apart anymore…?”

Damn this… The girl’s delusions are only going to worsen now. Whoever’s been letting her roam about without supervision needs to rethink their priorities. She used to irritate Dankovsky with her proud preaching, and he was afraid she’d be able to stir the town’s population into a fervor. They come out of their homes in search of her sometimes.

Still, it’s possible she’s been witnessing frightening things for days — or longer? who knows where she came from or what she’s suffered to be without a family now — and has convinced herself she must have a purpose. Whose mind doesn’t falter like that in the face of an insane world?

The Bachelor doesn’t think he’s nearly as paternal as his rough-and-tumble counterpart, the favorite of the orphan underclass, Burakh. But Burakh’s not here right now.

Dankovsky slings a strict enclosing arm around Clara’s shoulders.

“You didn’t do it, Clara…” he commands her to believe, as his heart keeps minutely panging in that new way that he’s not accustomed to. “Don’t think about it. Pull that ratty scarf over your mouth and nose and keep moving.”

She’s stumbling after him, reluctantly keeping apace. “But can’t you see I’m not her…?”

“Whoever you are, I don’t care,” Dankovsky mutters. He stares only ahead, at the distant waterlogged signal pyre marking the invisible border between poison and safety.

[walpurga-nacht-academy]

Djinn’s Bride! ~A Celebration of Love~

Part 6

[Walpurga Nacht Academy]

[Djinn’s Lamp]

Rosa/Marcia: THIS IS THE WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORST-

Rosa: OUCH!

Marcia: OOF!

Cass: EEK!

June: SHIT!

Blanche: UGH!

Diana: …

Vita: My~ That was quite a fall, was it not, my dear Agatha?

Agatha: Hehehehe… It… was… scary… but… Big… Sis… always… lands… on… her… feet…

Vita: Certainly~ It would not do otherwise~

Blanche: Di-Dies-senpai?

Vita: Hm~ What it be little hare?

Blanche: Could you and Agatha please get off. We’re all squished undern-

June: HEY, SHITHEAD, GET OFF!

Rosa: OUCHOUCHOUCHOUCHOUCH- THIS HURTS! YOU’RE ALL TOO HEAVY!

Diana: …

Marcia: Aaaah, this is where we meet our end… Goodbye my wonderful future full of riches…

Rosa: THAT’S WAY TOO DEPRESSING! MARCIA STOP SAYING THAT!

June: SHUT YET TRAPS!

Blanche: Ugh!

Vita: My, my, what strength~

Agatha: … Ugh… stupid… big… chowder… sat… up… all… of… a … sudden… and… we… all… feel… off… No… grace…

June: HAAA? YA WANT YER HEAD OFF OR SOMETHING?!

Cass: Uuuummmm…

June: Ya ok ‘here, Cass?

Cass: E-Eh? Ye-Yes! Though for a mo-moment the wind was knocked o-out of me…

Rosa: I thought for sure we were going to die…

Marcia: Haaaa, that would have been better…

Rosa: It really wouldn’t have!! Maybe you’re fine with dying young, but I’m not!! I still have a ton of stuff to do, you know?! Dying like this would be way too inconvenient!

Marcia: Haaaaa…

Rosa: Grrrr! What’s with this attitude anyways?! After making so much trouble for the rest of us by getting that djinn out of the lamp, you decide to stick your head in the sand too?!

June: Tsk. That’s ‘hat happens when yer so fuckin’ greedy.

Marcia: Hm? Why are you looking at me when you’re saying that? I really don’t get it.

Rosa: Weren’t you the one who brought the lamp to the meeting?! Why do you think we’re blaming you?!

Marcia: Now wait just a sec! Yeah, I’m the one who brought the lamp in, but it was senpai who released the djinn inside! If anyone’s to blame, it’s her!

Blanche: That’s a foregone conclusion.

Marcia: Eh? Wh-What’s that supposed to mean?

June: Ya should have expected the shitty ghoul to pull shit like ‘his.

Rosa: That’s right! That’s right! Dies-senpai is a heartless person who only likes to amuse herself by making others miserable! You should have known beforehand she’d take advantage of the situation to make a mess like this! Seriously, Marcia! What were you thinking?!

June: Yeah, ya fuckin’ moron.

Marcia: HAAAAAAAAAAA?! You’re blaming me?! You’re seriously blaming me?! After all that was said?! Your heads seriously are screwed on wrong!

Rosa: Grrr!

June: YA WANNA PICK A FIGHT?!

Marcia: I’LL PICK ONE ALRIGHT! I’m not gonna stand here and let you dump on me like that when there’s only one person at fault!

Vita: Hm~?

Agatha: Don’t… point… your… stupid… finger… at… Big… Sis…

Marcia: Shut it! I’m serious right now! Even if you bite it off I won’t care, you brat!

Agatha: GRRRRRRRRRRR.

Marcia: Senpai!!

Vita: My~ Your furious face certainly adds a certain allure to your visage~ It sends shivers down my spine~

Marcia: Yo-You’re not gonna distract me with your weirdness now! I’m too worked up to think through what you’ve just said! Senpai!! Please explain yourself!

Vita: Oh? Explain myself? Whatever could you mean?

Marcia: You know perfectly well what I’m talking about!! Why did you let the djinn out?!

Vita: Ah. That.

Marcia: Yes! That! You knew there was a magical presence in the lamp and you set him loose on all of us! Please explain your reasoning behind that!

Vita: Hm~? ‘Tis not obvious?

Marcia: Not at all!! I can’t wrap my head around your thinking process at all! It’s like trying to navigate a maze with no exit!

Vita: My~ The compliments are pouring out of your mouth today, are they not?

Marcia: Senpai!!

Vita: Fufu~ But very well. Sweet nothings should be rewarded after all. ‘Tis always been my policy. If an answer you seek, then cease your wandering, my dear~

Marcia: … Wh-What’s that supposed to mean? I don’t get it at all!

Diana: Curiosity is man’s downfall.

Marcia: Eh? Curiosity? Downfall?! What are you talking about now, Diana?!

Blanche: … I’m afraid I understand what she’s talking about.

Rosa: You do?! Just from that?! You’re amazing, Blanche!

Blanche: … Th-That’s… Ahem. I advise you to restrain your enthusiasm, Rosalia. I’m doubtful you’ll be happy with what I’m about to say…

Rosa: I-Is it that scary?!

Blanche: Scary… Perhaps we could look at it that way too… But more importantly, I would say the right word for it is-

Vita: Gratitude~

Blanche: …

Rosa: Gra-Gratitude? For what exactly…

Agatha: The… stupid… amoeba’s… brain… is… so… small… eheheheheheheheh…

Rosa: GRRR!

Vita: Now, now, my darling Agatha~ We must always show patience, remember? ‘Tis not her fault for her deficiency~

Rosa: … I didn’t get that but it was an insult, wasn’t it?! I can tell, you know!

Vita: How perspicacious of you, little rose~

Rosa: Another one! That was another one, wasn’t it?! Is this really the time for that though?! Don’t we have bigger problems?!

Marcia: Give it up, Rosalia.

Rosa: Eh? Marcia?

Marcia: There’s no way you’re going to get through to senpai. Her mind is too warped. Like this issue of gratitude… I think I’ve got a grasp on it…

Vita: Hm~?

Marcia: That gratitude you’re speaking about… is it that you wanted to thank me for bringing such a fun ‘toy’ for you to play around with?

Vita: Correct~

Marcia: AAAAAAAAAH! I WAS AFRAID YOU WERE GOING TO SAY THAT! JUST DOING EVERYTHING AT YOUR OWN PACE WITHOUT CARING ABOUT ANYBODY ELSE. THAT’S RIGHT! THAT’S RIGHT! THAT’S THE WAY OF THE MAD FREE PEOPLE, ISN’T IT?!

Rosa: Ma-Marcia! Calm down! You’re having a breakdown!

Marcia: Right.

Rosa: .... Eh? Th-That was a quick turnaround…

Marcia: After some meditation-

Rosa: Meditation?! What meditation?!

Marcia: I’ve come to a conclusion. SENPAI!

Vita: Hm?

Marcia: I’m returning the lamp to you~

Vita: No need, my dear. Consider it part of your dowry~

Marcia: Eh~? No way~ I couldn’t possibly steal this magnificent item from its rightful owner~

Vita: My~

Marcia: And since you’re the rightful owner~ Because you are~ You should stay here and marry this guy instead~

Vita: Oh~? I simply could not~

Marcia: Are you thinking about my feelings~? How kind~! But you really shouldn’t~ I’m giving you my full support~ So don’t hold back~ Don’t hold back at all~

Rosa: … She’s really trying to skirt her duties.

Marcia: I heard that!!

Rosa: !!!

Marcia: If you think I’m taking the fall for senpai’s blunder, then you’re dreaming!! I’m washing my hands clean of this whole thing!! Ya hear me?!

Rosa: … Just a second before you begged her to give you the lamp.

Marcia: That was when I thought I could make a quick madol with little to no consequences!! Things are different now!! The consequences have come back to bite me in the ass!!

Blanche: She’s so frustrated everything is spilling out.

Diana: Mm.

Marcia: So, senpai!!

Vita: Hm~?

Marcia: Step up and do the right thing!! Take this creepy guy and marry him so we can go back!!

Vita: I refuse~ I despise men with such bland features~

Marcia: WHO CARES ABOUT THAT?! You think I want to marry a guy with such a lame sense of humour?!

Vita: Hm, that would be rather unfortunate~ But his overly excitable attitude is simply revolting. I will concede to you.

Marcia: I DON’T WANT HIM! HE’S REALLY OFF-PUTTING! YOU TAKE THE CREEP!

Vita: No~

Rosa: They’re really annoyingly stubborn!! Seriously, I know that marrying such a weirdo is not the best outcome, but aren’t they going too far? Don’t you think so, Blanche?

Blanche: … Rosalia.

Rosa: Eh? Blanche! But- Huh?! Wait! If you’re on my right, then who’s the one-

Djinn: …

Rosa: AAAAH! SO YOU’VE BEEN HERE ALL ALONG?!

Djinn: ...

Marcia: YOU TAKE HIM! I’D RATHER DIE THAN MARRY HIM!

Vita: ‘Tis a mutual feeling~

Djinn: …

Rosa: YOU MONSTERS! STOP TALKING! THIS SORT OF ABUSE WILL BREAK ANYBODY’S SPIRIT! JUST BECAUSE HE’S UGLY AND LAME DOESN’T MEAN THAT HE SHOULD BE FORCED TO ENDURE THIS!

June: … Yer one to talk.

Djinn: ...ugh..

Rosa: Eh? What was that?

Djinn: ...ough…

Blanche: ?

Djinn: ENOUGH!!

Blanche: !!!

Rosa: MY EARS!!

June: NOT ‘HIS SHIT AG’IN!

Djinn: ‘Monster’ is too light a word for you people!! Even ogres have more compassion! You devils! Don’t you know a young man’s heart is really fragile?!

Rosa: I-It kinda hurts how right he is...

Djinn: That’s it. I’ve decided.

Rosa: Eh? You decided?! What did you decide?!

Djinn: I really wanted a cute wife to come live with me and cheer me up when I am down and share my joys and sorrows! But you girls are much too troublesome and unpleasant!

Rosa: Eeeh?! But I didn’t even do anything?!

Blanche: That’s obviously a lie.

Djinn: So you’re all evicted from here-

Marcia: YAHOO!

Djinn: -except for my master!

Marcia: …

Vita: Fufu~

Marcia: DON’T YOU DARE LAUGH! And you!!

Djinn: Ah, don’t shout like that. I have delicate hearing, you know?

Marcia: Like I care!! More importantly, didn’t you just say you couldn’t stand any of us earlier?! What’s with this sudden switch, huh?!

Djinn: … Well.

Marcia: WELL WHAT?

Djinn: I guess spending eternity with you is still better than being alone.

Marcia: …

Diana: … He must dislike loneliness.

Rosa: Haaaa?! Aren’t you too casual about this?! The way he just spoke was super insulting, actually!!

Blanche: Indeed. But that aside…

Agatha: It… still… means… one… will… have… to… stay… behind… We… should… make… the… stupid… amoeba… do… that… hehehehehehehe…

Rosa: NOOOO! ANYTHING BUT THAT! DON’T LEAVE ME BEHIND! I DON’T WANNA! IT’S MARCIA’S FAULT SO SHE SHOULD STAY!

Marcia: IF ANYONE SHOULD STAY IT’S DIES-SENPAI!

Vita: Fufu, are we to cast votes? Then I believe that the world ought to be spared of violent brutes with barely a sliver of intelligence~

June: …

Cass: Mi-Mi-Miss Himalia?

June: … I... ‘nough…

Cass: Um…

June: I HAD ‘NOUGH OF ‘HIS SHIIIIIIIIIIIIT!

Djinn: !!! E-EH?!

back | next

[achtung-attitude]

CHAPTER 44: Gangsta’s Paradise - Part 2

Time becomes strange. Things seem to move painfully slow, but also faster than Shizuka can react. All she can do is watch the curious, organic glow of the chandelier’s pulse.

She had jumped to kick the preacher man in the face, and was satisfied to feel her shin connect with his jaw. But in the next instant, she faltered, sensing none of the familiar feedback. The old man didn’t reel back or yelp in pain. Instead, Dust keeps smiling, though the predatory look remains in his eyes. The wrinkles on the left side of his face become clear; the skin around his jowl is now smooth, a little strip of his beard now colored dark a light shade of grey instead of white, incongruent with the rest of his aged appearance.

The organic chandelier that is his Stand pulsates, as if a ghostly heart beats within it.

Brother Dust reaches out a lazy hand, and as she descends to the ground, the old man gently strokes her calf with the back of his hand. Sick chills run up Shizuka’s spine, and a CRACK fills the air. She thinks first to look for broken glass. Then the pain crawls up from her leg and fills her brain.

Shizuka hits the ground, and GANGSTA'S PARADISE flashes at its brightest. She hears a scream that may be her own, but she has no time to consider it as an explosion of colored light ripples out from the unearthly chandelier. Shizuka turns her face away as the ripples extend outward, shutting her eyes.

When she opens them, she yelps and raises her fist at the face that appears right in front of her. But instead she finds her own visage staring back at her, reflected in something that appears to be glass, but definitely isn’t.

She leaps away and howls when her broken leg bends beneath her weight. Her back strikes the opposing wall and the wind is knocked out of her. She fights to catch it and her bearings. Once she readjusts herself, Shizuka is stunned at where she finds herself.

It is a room of mirrors. Not only the four walls, but also the ceiling and floor are perfect, clear mirrors. Shizuka pulls herself up to stand on her good foot, keeping one hand pressed against the wall. When she looks at the wall, her twin in the mirror presses her palm against hers. She looks down and the reflection looks up. They watch each other become dizzy, as their only footing is the sole of the other’s foot. At the center of it all lingers the glowing chandelier.

WELCOME TO MY WORLD.

The voice is a dreadful whisper which batters her eardrums and makes her scream in shock and pain. She falls to the floor again, and the voice, Brother Dust’s voice, speaks again, seeming to come from inside her own head.

This is the world created by GANGSTA’S PARADISE. In this space, EVERYTHING is turned on its head. Time. Space. Matter. Even reality itself. No-one has ever seen this place and lived to tell about it. But you can, Shizuka Joestar… You still have a chance. But if you reject it.... you will die here. Alone. And afraid.

Shizuka staggers to her knees and stares all around. She cannot see Dust. He is a disembodied voice, untouchable. She looks down at her leg. A shard of bone pokes out from the flesh, and blue fluid drips from the end of it. With a shivering hand, she dabs at the dark blue that runs down to her ankle.

“Is that… my blood?... but, I... why is it...?”

She is now very afraid. She does not understand what’s happening. She shivers and her breath is wild and unsteady. A familiar impulse calls out to her, one she has known since before she can remember. The urge to turn invisible. Almost beyond her control, she feels the ability take effect, ACHTUNG BABY manipulates the light around her to make her disappear.

And then a cloak of darkness covers her sight and she goes blind.

“Aaah…!!” she shrieks. “What’s happening now…?!” She grasps the air in front of her, trying to find purchase. Her fingers brush against something like a curtain, then she recoils. Still, she can’t see, but the movement of the cloth reveals to her what is standing in front of her. Brother Dust has emerged from whatever realm he disappeared into and stands before her in physical form.

Unbeknownst to Shizuka, rather than turning invisible, her body shines from within, becoming a human beacon. He stands over her and looks at his reflection in the mirror wall, touching the newly youthful portion of his face while muttering to himself.

“Neither hath this man sinned, nor his parents: but that the works of God should be made manifest in him… I must say, though, very nice,” he says, looking down at Shizuka. “It's been quite a while since I've had skin this smooth. Hey, do you think you could get the other side of my face? Just to even things out…”

“What did you do to me?!!” she yells. She keeps her fists up, but makes no attempt to lash out at her unseen enemy.

“Oh? I thought that I said so already. This is my power: GANGSTA'S PARADISE. An extraordinarily weak Stand, with no destructive power at all. All it does is put things in reverse. But don’t misunderstand, I don’t mean ‘reversing’ in the way one might rewind a video tape! GANGSTA'S PARADISE does not affect the actions themselves, but rather, the intent that drives them!”

When Shizuka doesn’t respond, he continues, “I can see you’re still confused. Allow me to instead demonstrate: I’m going to shatter that leg of yours even worse,” he declares, a dark menace entering his tone.

She senses him raising his foot, but reacts too slowly. Her mind is shuddering, the shock making her limbs slow. She feels the rush of air as Dust brings his foot and screams before he makes contact with her leg, stomping right on her exposed bone. “AAAAGHH!!”

But the strike doesn’t hurt. She feels a burning sensation in her leg, but not the white-out agony she expected. “What…?” she whispers as Dust steps away from her. When she reaches down and touches her leg, she feels the bone retracting back in place. Even the dark blue blood has returned to her veins, as she feels her leg is dry and whole.

“When you strike at someone, your intent is to cause harm,” Dust says, crouching over her, “whether with fists, blades or bullets, in your heart, you desire to cause harm to your neighbor. GANGSTA’S PARADISE turns that desire on its head: transmuting the intent to harm into an action that heals.”

“Th-that doesn’t explain the mirror world…! Or my eyes…!!!” Shizuka spits, shrinking away from the preacher.

“Places have intent as well,” Dust answers, explaining slowly as if talking to a small child. “GANGSTA’S PARADISE acts upon the space around it, resulting in this dizzying place. An impossible world, where I hold sway… As for your eyes, you mustn’t blame that on me. It’s simply your own power working against you. How pitiful…!”

“What do you mean…?”

“You need to think about it! I heard you were clever…! Did you know that you’re glowing right now?”

“Eh…?” she says, confused.

“Ah, nevermind! You’re under some stress right now. I’m sure you’ll figure it out, eventually. Let’s come back to harm and healing,” Dust stands and straightens the front of his long coat, sounding vexed. “You may ask, who in this world can attack another without harmful intent behind their actions? And what can a person do when their intentions are constantly turned on their heads? The answers are: nobody, and nothing. There is nothing you can do. Nothing except surrender, or die.”

“Wanna bet…?!” she blusters, standing up and testing the strength of her newly healed leg, but still shining and blind. “You bastard… I told you I’d kick your ass… now I’ll do it twice as hard!!!”

“My parents were happily married, thank you!” Dust laughs. “It seems you’re still too stressed to understand. You’re only alive because I allow it to be so. And I allow it because I’m trying to give you another chance.”

Dust moves away from Shizuka, pulling a little black book out of his tunic. She pants in pain, and hears the shifting of paper as he opens it up.

“How well do you know the Good Book?” Shizuka doesn’t answer, her blind eyes shut in spite of him. “Ha…! No matter. You’ll know all you’ll need to before too long.”

The old priest walks towards the mirrored wall, then stops just before his reflection and turns to face Shizuka again “One hour. That is the time you get to make a decision. You can either join my cause, or die here. I hate to waste a talent like yours, but the decision is up to you.”

As he steps backwards into the mirror, he performs the sign of the cross and recites a Latin chant. “In nomine Patris, et Fili…”

Spiritus Sancti.

Shizuka is alone again, with nothing but her frantic breath and fear. She grips her leg, healed by a punch, and squeezes it hard. She cannot see. Yet in the darkness, she sees Dust’s smirking face. She grits her teeth, feeling a black pit hollow out her insides.

And then the voice returns. It whispers right next to her, but when she throws her hand out to strike, there is nothing but air. She puts her hands to her ears, but doing so only penetrates her ears even worse, the sound seems to broadcast directly from her palms.

In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth. And the earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters.

She sees him. Her eyes are blind, but she can see his face, leering at her from the infinite mirrors. The same sneer, repeated over countless lenses. Like the infinite staircases of MC Escher, imagery that boggles the mind and confuses the senses. Shizuka was trapped in this world distorted by Brother Dust, where he is lord and master.

[thetravelerwrites]

Monster Match #24: Bugul Noz

The Traveler's Masterlist

For: @voxnipop​: Hi there! I'm Ariel (Voxni on Kofi). I'm female-presenting agender, and use they/them pronouns. For a brief description, I'm a software engineer and genre-fiction writer. I love learning new languages and skills in my free time. Physically, I am clearly the designated nerd in a family of badasses. Tall, pale, and soft with curly red hair and thick thick glasses. (Compared to the rest of my tattoo-ed, super-athletic family. I love them though, do their taxes for them every year lol.) Always down for a fight to defend my family or friends, but thankfully as a super-soft sweet female-bodied person in the Southern US, most people disengage quickly after that.

In a partner, I honestly want to feel valued and protected. I know my default is to take control and basically be the protector and nurturer, but I'd like someone who reciprocates that care that I give. Intelligence isn't all that important as much as sweetness, and also maybe the ability to cook? I'm living that takeout lifestyle haaaard. Physically, I have a slight preference for larger partners, but I'd be pretty excited to see whoever the match happens with! No preference on SFW vs NSFW, whatever you feel more inclined/simpler to do. Thank you, and hope you hit your goal soon!

You’ve been matched with a Bugul Noz!

In Breton beliefs, the Bugul Noz, or "Night Shepherd"), is a fae-like being who lives in the woodlands of Brittany. He is the last of his kind and is said to be incredibly ugly, which causes him distress. His appearance is so awful that even woodland animals avoid him, and he sometimes cries out to warn others nearby of his approach, so that he won't frighten them and that they’ll go home. He is called the night shepherd because it is generally not safe in forests late at night, when he is most active. The Bugul Noz is not malicious (indeed, rather kind and gentle), he is always alone because of his hideous visage.

Rather than being a spirit to be feared, he’s said to, "fulfill a beneficial office, in warning human beings, by his coming, that night is not made for lingering in the fields or on the roads, but for shutting oneself in behind closed doors and going to sleep. This shepherd of the shades would then be, take it altogether, a kind of good shepherd. It is to ensure our rest and safety, to withdraw us from excesses of toil and the snares of night, that he compels us, thoughtless sheep, to return quickly to the fold."

It was the baleful moaning that alerted you, making the hairs stand up on your neck.

When you first heard the sound, you were spooked but unsure what you could do. You only had your bag, which had a map, compass, and a cellphone that had no service. You’d gone hiking before and never had a problem, but it only took one wrong turn in the woods to lead to disaster.

You didn’t work out much, as you kind of enjoyed being squishy, but walking along hiking trails was your favorite form of exercise because you could take it in your own pace and sit to sketch if you were tired.

You’d gotten lost while hiking during your vacation in France and night had rapidly come upon you. You eventually found yourself in some sort of ravine with a sheer cliff face preventing you from leaving. You followed it until you’d become tired, finding a cave-like cliff hollow to shelter under.

It was then that a gigantic brown bear decided to come back to what you realized was its den, and panicked. It reared up on its hind legs and bellowed at you, and you shrieked in reply.

“Oh, god, please don’t let me die,” You prayed. “All I wanted was a vacation in Europe before I became a serious adult! Please let me live to see the Louvre!”

You heard the moaning again, but it wasn’t coming from the bear. The bear came down from its hind legs and looked behind itself. It stiffened, and then jumped as if startled. The moaning grew louder, and the bear grunted, shying away from whatever it was. Apparently deciding that a fight with whatever it was looking at wasn’t worth it and moved on.

After a moment of waiting for the bear to return, you cautiously stood up. It was still dark out, the stars were clear and bright, but not enough to illuminate the way out.

“Hello?” You called to the darkness. “Who’s there?”

“Est-ce que tu vas bien?” The voice called. It was deep and scratchy, like someone who had a cough.

“I’m sorry,” You said. “I don’t speak much French.”

“Parlez vous anglais?” They asked.

“Angl--English! Yes, I speak English,” You replied, relieved.

“My English… not good,” They said in a very heavy regional French accent. “Follow, s'il vous plaît. Lead you to trail.”

“I can’t see you,” You said.

“C'est pour le mieux,” They replied. “Come now. Not far.”

“How can I follow you if I can’t see you?”

They were quiet for a moment. “Sing?”

“You’ll sing?” You asked, slightly amused.

“Oui,” They said. “Ça va?”

“Okay,” You said, unsure whether or not this was a better option than the bear. “Lead the way.

The… person… began to sing in French a song you didn’t know. Their voice was coarse, but they could carry a tune, and you could follow it well enough to be able to join them for the refrain.

“Singing est très jolie,” They said during a pause in the song.

“Thanks,” You said, smiling. “I like your voice, too.”

“Merci,” They replied with a happy, sing-songy tone. “Sing alone often. Nice to have… partenaire.”

“Do you live out here?” You asked as you walked.

“Oui,” They said. “Près de.”

“Close?” You asked. “I don’t want to impose, but I’m very tired and thirsty. I ran out of water hours ago. I just want to rest for a little while and have a drink and I can manage.”

They were quiet, and for a moment you wondered if they had understood you. You opened your mouth to rephrase it more simply when they said, “Juste une minute.”

“Thank you. Uh… Merci,” You said.

You followed their humming until you reached a hut made of stones. It looked old, like centuries old. It looked like someone had been keeping it up by replacing the old crumbling stones with newer ones. There was a simple door made of sticks and vines.

“Il y a un puits sur le côté de la maison,” They said. “Water. Must draw bucket. Go in. Sit. I get.”

Inside, there was a small fire inside a stone circle on a dirt floor. There was a rudimentary chair sitting next to it, and a simply carved table next to it with a bamboo cup. At the farthest end was a straw and large leaf pallet that you assumed they used for sleeping. Maybe it was an old man who shunned modern society and made his life out of leading lost people out of the woods. That would be noble.

Well, it was much better than your worst imaginings, which were running rampant in your head at the moment.

There was a thump at the door and you heard their voice again.

“Water,” They said. “Outside. You drink. I wait.”

You opened the door slowly, and there was a bucket sitting on the ground full of water. Though you couldn’t tell in this light, it looked clean enough, and you were too thirsty to complain.

“Where are you?” You asked.

“Here,” They said, though you couldn’t see them. “Go now?”

“Why won’t you let me see you?”

“Ugly,” They said. “Scare you.”

You laughed. “That’s silly. You won’t scare me.”

“I scare toutes les choses,” They said sadly. “Best no see. Get you home.”

“If you say so,” You said. “Okay, I’m ready.”

They began to sing again, and you followed the sound of their voice until you eventually came upon a trail. You laughed in relief and rushed to it.

“Go west,” They said. You heard shuffling, as if they were moving away.

“Wait!” You called. “What’s your name?”

“Auberi,” They said. “Be safe.”

You made it back to the town where you were staying as dawn broke. There had been a search team out looking for you, and they were relieved to hear you were alive and unharmed for spending an entire night in the woods.

You insisted you were fine, but they called an ambulance anyway. At the hospital, you asked the nurse, “Have you heard about someone living out in the forest?”

“Que voulez-vous dire?” She asked. “Did you see someone else out there?”

“Not see,” You said. “Heard. There was a person out there who led me out of the woods, but they wouldn’t let me see their face. They sang a song and I followed their voice out of the woods.”

“Ah,” The nurse said with a knowing smile. “You must have met le Bugul Noz.”

“The what?”

“Night Shepherd,” She translated. “It’s a kind creature that helps keep people and animals safe, but it’s said to be so ugly that it scares everything away from it. Not even animals will go near it if they see it. It is lonely and cries because no one will be friends with it.”

“Is the Night Shepherd real?” You asked.

“It’s a fairy tale,” The nurse replied. “But who’s to say it is real or not?”

A week later, you went hiking on the same trail, with a GPS this time in case you got lost again, and went searching for the Night Shepherd. You tried to sing the song they had, but you could only remember the refrain, so you sang that over and over, hoping it would draw their ear.

After a few hours of nothing, you sat down on a large stone and sighed unhappily. Perhaps you had hallucinated the voice, but how would you have hallucinated a song you’d never heard in a language you barely knew?

“Lost again, petit oiseau?” You heard the rough voice say.

“Auberi!” You said, jumping up and looking around only too see nothing but forest. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you?”

“Moi?” They said, sounding surprised. “Pourquoi?”

“I heard a story from the nurse after I made it out of the forest,” You said. “About a creature so ugly that no one would stay with it. Is that you? The night shepherd? Le Bugul Noz?”

They sighed heavily. “Oui,” The admitted. “Je suis.”

“Is that why I heard you crying before you drove off the bear?” You asked gently. “You are lonely, aren’t you?”

They were silent.

“You saved my life,” You said earnestly. “No matter what you look like, I want to thank you for that. Please, can I see you?”

“Je ne veux pas te faire peur.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Scare you,” They said. “Don’t want.”

“You won’t,” You said. “Come out, please? I have a gift for you.”

“Not ask for gift,” They said. “Just want safe.”

“I know,” You said. “But I brought you one anyway. Please? Please let me see you.”

There was a large breath followed by a deep, heavy sigh that blew the low branches around. Then the saplings in the low brush were moved aside as the creature came out into the light.

They were hunched and crooked, with a long neck like a horse, complete with a main of tangled, coarse tan hair. They had three pairs of arms, one of which worked in tandem with their feet to propel their large body forward. They were covered in the same coarse fur as their mane, only shorter and curlier. Their face was flat and revealed a dark hole that seemed to lead to nowhere. They had no visible eyes or ears, but they seemed to hear and see just fine. There was a long tail stretched out behind them that dragged the ground as they walked. You had no way to determine their gender, so you didn’t try.  

They were certainly unusual, but you didn’t think they were ugly.

“Not running?” They asked, their head turning in surprise. You had no idea where the voice was coming from, as they had no mouth, just the dark maw in the middle of their face.

“Not running,” You said. “I told you, you saved me. As far as I’m concerned, you’re as handsome as a prince.” You reached up to touch them, and they shied a little in fear, but allowed you to put your hand on their neck. You stroked their hair and scratched their skin, and there was a strange guttural purring sound from the maw.

“I’m going to be in the village for another month,” You said. “And I came to France to learn about it’s art, it’s culture, and it’s people. You’re part of that. I think I’d like to spend my month with you.”

They leaned their head against your cheek, and there was an odd hollow whistling from the maw, but it wasn’t so bad.

“Teach you all my songs,” They said. “We sing together, petit oiseau?”

“I’d love to sing with you, Auberi.” You said, laughing and snuggling against them.

To get your own Monster Match, buy me a Kofi!

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Thanks for reading!

My Masterlist

The Exophilia Creator’s Masterlist

[anothersillyfanblog]

The Caveway To Hell

Day 13: Door. I did- so with something like this, you either have to take it 100% serious or go crack fic. By “something like this” I mean a Sanders Sides/Devil May Cry crossover, I did a DMC crossover, you don’t need to understand it, I don’t understand it. ------------------

Remus had been dead for two-and-a-half-years. Until, unfortunately for museum curator Janus William, he wasn’t.

“Where is it?...” something may or not have whispered from the dark.

It was late into William’s shift, and the slight patter of footsteps he kept fooling himself weren’t his own wasn’t helping the night pass any quicker. He’d done this enough times, he thought, backing against one of the glass cases, there was no reason to be nervous. Then? Then the glass smashed behind him.

A figure, somehow stood in the container, holding a recently-procured-mace and clad in an emerald-green leather jacket. Janus tried to look past the large shards of glass stuck in his face and see who this was, maybe get a better description for the police, but he didn’t get the chance. This man, antique mace in hand, ran towards the museum curator- and swung.

-Four weeks later-

Posters up for ‘the man in green’. Lots of people wear green. Roman’s heart still jumped five feet, it’s not as if ‘lots of people’ steal antique maces. Hell, the young devil hadn’t even known his brother’s mace was in a museum! If he had, HE’D have been the one committing theft. Might’ve been a different antique mace? Might not have been “Harmsway”? Maybe?

Any information contact the police.

….

Or the museum, okay so that worked.

-

“He looked like you-” Roman rolled his eyes “Are you blind? He probably had a shitty moustache and dyed thingy up here!” “Blind?!” scoffed the man sat in front of him “well yes, I just had half of my fucking face smashed in with a mace, and I couldn’t really see him properly at the time so.” “Oh, well!” Roman laughed “No need to get antsy, just sayin’. Anyway, he should look a bit like me, if he’s who I think, he’s my twin brother.” He became a lot more sombre now “except he can’t be- or really shouldn’t.” “What do you mean?” Janus asked. “My brother, Remus, died nearly three years ago now. I saw him fall from Mikaw Mountain- and that mace, Harmsway, too. I ran to the bottom of the mountain, but... Do you know how many creatures are around there? How many demons? I mean, I’m me and I struggled to make it out of there… I really- I just-” Roman took a deep breath “Look, Janus, if he’s alive then I have to see it with my own eyes. Coz It could be any random guy (who looks like me) in green leather breaking into a museum to steal my brother’s mace back!” Janus nodded “Sure could…” he smiled “so how are you going to find him?” “Oh now that!” Roman began “might take a while.”

-

It was like one of those optical illusions, at least when Logan had questioned what they were doing there: the cave looked like a door to hell (when you squinted slightly), and the door to hell looked like a cave (you didn’t have to squint for that).

Either way, as long as they were getting closer to the goal, that was what mattered. And if this goal involved trusting a devil- or half-devil, either one- then whatever.

“Can you see it?” the man in front of him wielding the mace asked. “See what?” Logan replied. Remus tutted “That’s your humanity, you, can’t see what’s standing right! In! Front! Of! You!” he hit the snowy cliffside on each pause, to the protests of Logan (who astonishingly didn’t want to cause an avalanche), and the rocks split- revealing a dark passageway. “See?” Remus began to cackle. “You think you can handle the devil world? Get ready for a funky old time, my friend!”

-

So how were Janus and Roman going to find them? Ultimately, through one very anxious ex-lab-partner. This being of Logan’s, of course.

Virgil Dagon had woken to find the lab eerily quiet. Usually he could at least hear the breathing of his work partner, but not at this moment. Right then, he went to put his food in the fridge, then- like clockwork- walked over to check on the micro-samples.

It was then he found the note.

--To Virgil: I did not feel quite right leaving without writing something, though my, shall we say, new partner encouraged against it. I have found an extraordinary opportunity, the likes of which this world cannot provide me, and so I am leaving it. There are studies to be sought elsewhere and I will seek them for I can. I wish you all the best; Logan. –

His heart leapt. Well, actually it summersaulted, but he wasn’t getting caught up on the details. Well, he was. Logan was not the kind of guy to just leave, or to ‘just do’ anything, and it really wasn’t an over-reaction to find this suspicious. Unless it was? No, Logan was the kind of guy who would skip out on meeting with friends to study, but not the kind to actively abandon those friends. Especially not…

‘This world???’

So began these new sleepless nights- sifting through his friend’s emails, notes, even the lab’s security footage (indoor and out). By the end, he had more than a few ideas.

-

A cave. Or, so Janus was told, the doorway to hell (if you squint). And it was two guys, from the same lab, in fairly close succession, both quitting their jobs to get plane tickets to Mikaw Mountain that tipped off one of Roman’s many informants.

“He’ll have a head start” Roman stared at the split in the cliff face momentarily “and quite a big one, so!” he grinned, then sprinted into the darkness, leaving Janus calling behind. It’s not like a half-blind man could keep up in a cave full of demons- he’d just have to die or run, either of which didn’t sound like a Roman problem.

In fact, without that curator guy, he was having a grand old time. It had been a while since Roman had done any serious hunting, any REAL fighting, and it was good to be back at it! Hacking at the sorts of bloody creatures he hadn’t fought since he’d last seen his brother…

Just simple, caped, skeleton-like things, many of them were- nothing too difficult- and nothing that him and his blade (Starcrossed) didn’t handle well enough. He was just propelling himself off of the cavern wall, slicing through the necks of several creatures as he leapt across, when he heard the scream. From up ahead.

So not the curator (probably).

And either way, he had already gotten started. Better finish.

-

“Is it done?” Remus whinged, almost childlike, whilst attempting to balance Harmsway on his finger. Logan didn’t look at him, remaining focused on the device in his hands “Almost…” he tapped the screen “there.” Remus snatched it off him, grinning, before instantly frowning again and giving it back. “What does, so, what does it mean, then?” “It’s a map to the door.” “But the cave is the door-” Remus started, before a figure behind interrupted. “Not quite,” Janus pointed a cane at Remus “bitch.”

The two swivelled round immediately, with Logan looking at his new partner with confusion and that partner proceeding to break out into hysterics.

“You? You?” he cackled “I can hardly remember who the FUCK you’re supposed to BE, let alone why you would know shit about the doorway to hell!” “Really?” Janus stepped closer “you, uh- robbed my museum and did this to me with a fucking mace you psychopath.” He gestured to the still-bandaged half of his visage, smiling with absolute hatred. Logan coughed “I’m not sure you have a diagnosis of psychopathy-”   “I DON’T GIVE A SHIT, HE SMASHED HALF MY FUCKING FACE IN.” he glared directly at Logan now, shouting, a tear pricking his eye. Remus tutted “Well, if you keep screaming at my friend, then I can do the other half- if you like?” he stepped forward, this time successfully balancing Harmsway on his finger. Janus turned slowly and lifted his cane- the end turning into spike after pressed a seemingly invisible button. “Or we could match- ‘if you like?’” he taunted.

Janus made very precise, delicate moves, attempting to finely swipe or jab at Remus’ figure. The latter was extremely different. He leapt dramatically out of the way of every move, then would charge back with astonishing speed- mace overhead.

They kept on like this for a while, evading and attacking, leaping and swiping, until Remus stayed still. He just stood there as his opponent dived in. And then, of course, he grabbed the cane- flinging Janus round and into the cave wall, who then let out a sharp cry.

Remus drove into him, winding him further with Harmsway, then quickly snatched his cane-arm and held it above his head. “If you want MY mace in your pussy-ass museum,” he snarled “then you can take it where it belongs.” “Thank you for the invitation but I think I’d rather, ooh, go to hell?” Roman stood, beaming, to their right.

“Hi again, Remus.” --------------------------------------------- Yeah so I haven’t finished this and, due to college, probably won’t for all of October. Also I don’t think anyone will like it so uh yeah no one will want me to continue. I had TOO much fun though!!!

[strxga]

Adam Taurus, Bumblebee/y and Seeing Red from the lens of someone who hasn’t been in the FNDM since 2015

Let me preface this by saying that I’m not particularly someone who really is into shipping or really defends or excuses Adam’s actions. I like most characters in RWBY - Adam, Blake and Yang included, but I’m someone who likes to analyze from an objective standpoint and I hope I can get my point across without drawing any ire. If you wish to politely discuss things respectfully and in a friendly manner, my DMs are always open! But with that out of the way, let me get right into it.

I’ll dissect this in two segments: the first half regarding RW, JPR, Qrow, Oscar and Caroline and then the Adam vs. Blake and Yang section.

Let me get this out from the get-go: the main characters in this circumstances are, indubitably, the bad guys. This sounds like a very harsh and extreme assessment, but really there is no other way to put it. Ruby addresses Caroline most of the time in a way that makes it sound like, in a way, she feels she is entitled to travel to Atlas because she has set the burden of Remnant on her shoulders, and she has! But Caroline knows nothing about Salem, about WTCH and about her and Ozpin’s centennial long feud. She is merely a high-ranking soldier defending the base in Argus after she was entrusted with it by General Ironwood himself. Now, I’m saying that our main characters are the bad guys, but Caroline herself is also being extremist. We’ve already seen glimpses of her incredibly patriotic personality and her radical way of treating our main characters, threatening to send all of her armed forces against them.

While she is justified in her demanding our main characters surrender herself considering they’ve stooped so low as to committing highway robbery (or would it be airway robbery in this case?) and assaulting members of the Atlas Military. At this point they are actually, inexcusable criminals! And yes, I do understand that Caroline stood in their way and that she blatantly denied their request to at least confirm what they were saying with General Ironwood. Does this make her, from a narrative standpoint, an antagonist? Yes! But let’s remember that she has absolutely no reason to believe these groups of teenagers who refuse to tell the full truth to her! Not to mention that, if the Atlas Military does indeed follow the real-life rules of the military, then lower-rank members can’t just contact high-ranking soldiers willy-nilly. Often you even need a permission and appointment to just speak with them. Is Caroline justified to deny our main character’s request? Yes! But this doesn’t mean she’s in the right either.

The moment she was defied she not only used excessive force but also busted out a giant mech suit to use against the protagonists. It’s overly-ridiculous why she would even do something like this! At this point, it was only a matter of time before the two of them engaged in battle considering they’re in opposite sides. Now, regarding the fight itself, I won’t comment too much other than it’s just laughable a group of not even fully experienced hunters are able to tear holes through the robot... Not to mention how silly it is for the mech’s shield to not cover its entire body and it’s just blatantly awful how easily it was to dispatch of its shields and its rocket launcher design is just practically unreliable in any and all ways. The mech is just filled with unnecessary weaknesses that are very exploitable, so much for the might of high end and cutting edge Atlas technology... But that’s besides the point. It just, ultimately, feels like both sides are wrong but, from an objective standpoint, our main characters are ultimately causing Caroline to have to resort to forceful military intervention seeing as they won’t listen to her and she won’t listen to them.

Now this can only end up badly for Argus considering it’s been left entirely unprotected because Ruby and Jaune thought it would be a good idea to attempt and cross the Atlas Military. Ultimately, this is like saying the Brothers were the villains to Salem’s story, as they refused to upset the balance of Life and Death by bringing Ozma back after he expired even though it was Salem’s own selfishness that ultimately lead the Brothers to wipe the board clean after all of humanity had unified under Salem and decided to reject them, forcing them to get rid of Humanity until its eventual restoration. And now that Ruby, in her selfishness, decided to take down Argus’ greatest defensive weapon against supersized Grimm because she wanted to travel to Atlas fast and as soon as possible, it’s likely several more lives are going to be sacrificed. In the end they decided their own goals are more important than the rest of the lives in all of Argus, including Jaune’s sister’s family and likely Pyrrha’s relative too. It feels like they didn’t not only earn their victory against Caroline due to that robot’s massive defects but also like they learned nothing from the Battle for Beacon and Haven.

Now, of course there’s the second part and... This one is frankly the one I’m the most afraid of discussing, but... Just hear me out. Please don’t instaclick your ‘Block’ buttons and just take your time to listen to me.

I’ll summarize this first by saying the following things: Did I think Yang’s PTSD was accurately represented not just in this battle but throughout the Volumes? Arguably... Yes. Did I think Blake and Yang overcoming Adam was done fruitfully? Yes. Did I think Adam deserved to die? Yes. Did I think he deserved to die now? No. Did I think he deserved redemption? Hard no. Did I think Blake and/or Yang should’ve been able to individually defeat Adam? Hard no for Blake and an arguable no for Yang, but if it I had to decide I’d say she’d be able to keep up with him the most. Lastly, should Blake and Yang be able to take down Adam by working together? Absolutely.

Now to elaborate, let me say this... I know PTSD and abusive relationships from experience, and neither are pretty. This is obvious of course. PTSD is a mental condition which you can work at to get better but you can never truly get rid of it. Some of the more common symptoms are anxiety, paranoia, hallucinations, nightmares, flashbacks, body tremors and overall very nasty reactions to things that remind you of your trauma. Yang’s PTSD throughout the volumes was related to Adam and to fights in general, but while her PTSD was shown affecting her severely at first, besides handshakes and hallucinations, there wasn’t really much shown regarding her condition. I understand she talked and sparred with Taiyang, but truthfully you can talk to someone and that’ll still not really help you overcome entirely such mentally and emotionally taxing condition. Even with her PTSD and fear of battles, Yang still jumped recklessly into battles and she still came out winning. It genuinely feels like while she did get better, she didn’t truly learn anything from her past experiences. I don’t think she should’ve had a mental breakdown upon seeing Adam, but rather that more than her just shaking should’ve been shown.

Throughout the volume she still does experience visions of Adam and is utterly horrified by his mere visage, this very vividly represents to us that, despite what we might want to believe, Yang isn’t truly over her condition and still struggles dealing with even the idea of Adam being nearby! So, with this, the least we can realistically expect from her fight with Adam is to, for once, NOT recklessly dive in to fight him... Except that’s exactly what she does. She’s gotten training with Taiyang, sure, but Adam is a skilled swordsman who has been fighting for far longer than Yang has, so the very least is for her to be able to keep up with him but not have the massive advantage she displayed in The Lady in the Shoe. It would’ve been pleasant to see her hesitating more and being shown how she’s struggling to not give in to her fear of him. If, in the previous episodes, they would’ve shown her have a more relaxed and accepting response to her hallucinations rather than the fearful expressions she displayed then it’d make more sense for her to be so confident and reckless fighting Adam, but this wasn’t what happened, so it feels like she just had a massive boost to her mental and physical capacities that came out of seemingly nowhere.

Now as for Adam himself? While I understand he was meant to be nothing more than a foil to Blake and - to an extent, Yang - I still feel like his character was misued. For all the show tells about how Faunus are discriminated against, the truth is we’ve never seen true discrimination throughout the Volume. Adam is the only Faunus that we have canon evidence to have been witness and victim of Faunus oppression through the branding of his face and for having constantly fought Humans who tried to hurt those he cared about while the White Fang was being led by Ghira. His radical views could’ve made a great foil for not just Blake throughout the series but he could’ve represented the ideology that Humans help only in creating monsters like Adam by treating them the way they do and a great opposite on how Adam and Blake go about bettering the Faunus’ conditions; with Blake’s kind but seemingly ineffective method and Adam’s more sadistic and merciless tactics. In short, I feel like he still could’ve played a more important role in the whole Humans vs. Faunus debacle going on in the background.

The world is not black and white, it’s grey, and these two could’ve been great polar opposites; the fire to each other’s water, but this idea wasn’t sadly explored. He could’ve been more than just the former, stalking, abusive and controlling ex-boyfriend. Especially with recent revelations of his suffering at the hands of the Schnee Dust Company. His personal vendetta could’ve even been centered against the Schnee Dust Company or even Weiss herself instead of just Blake. He could’ve been more than that, but I respect and understand the decision Kerry and Miles took when writing him. I wouldn’t call it bad or lazy writing as much as I just feel like it is a greatly missed opportunity.

I understand Adam, or for the matter, any other ‘minor’ characters are only part of Team RWBY’s story and not truly 100% part of it, but what I don’t think many people grasp is that they’re STILL part of the story and they should be fleshed-out some more than just being given tiny glimpses of their past. And this doesn’t apply to just Adam. It applies to every other character besides the members of RWBY! We know barely anything about JNPR and about STRQ, SSSN or CFVY. We don’t even know anything about WTCH’s motivations or even Emerald and Mercury and they’re the main villains! They feel, comparably, flat to the main cast. They’re all part of THEIR story. They’re not the focus but time and effort should be put into getting to know these characters more. I won’t fault them for their writing, but it’s inevitable for the fans to think that they could’ve done better, but that’s true for almost every piece of media, because no one’s a perfect writer and there’s always going to be faults.

While I am not really pleased to see Adam go and do indeed feel like he was a missed opportunity for a great villain, it is what it is. His death, however, was executed marvelously. Ideally, for me, it would’ve been better if individually the two wouldn’t be able to overcome Adam because he would be faster, stronger, every single bit the monster Yang imagined him to be, but once together and understanding each other again, they’d slowly get the advantage on him and defeat him. Symbolically, it would’ve made a lot of sense considering how intrinsically tied to each other Blake and Yang are, but frankly with how Chapter 11 went, it doesn’t really feel like Blake even had to fight at all considering how easy Yang was beating him around without him landing a single hit on her. It could’ve been performed better but ultimately the way he was killed fell more in line with what I had in mind. 

His death feels bittersweet. Sure, they got rid of a terrible person, but one you couldn’t help but feel sympathy for because he wasn’t born a monster, he was made a monster by humanity. He was spiteful, but he was also broken and damaged inside, and rather than heal, he followed on the path of revenge. I’ve formed part of an abusive relationship. I was mentally, emotionally and verbally manipulated, deceived, cheated on, and gaslighted. I felt connected to Adam in a way because he, too, was likely treated that way by the S.D.C. but I saw him as a victim of his circumstances. That’s what made him so powerful. There’s rarely any characters that are truly shown to be the producers of what they were once the victims of. I wanted Adam to continuously evolve and direct his hatred at the S.D.C., at humanity. Him to confront Weiss so she could see his scar and show the kinds of racism and crimes her father was responsible of. Adam’s actions were deplorable and that’s why I, personally, wanted him to continue hurting others in his effort to ‘right’ the Faunus against humanity. He could’ve been an interesting side-villain completely unrelated to Salem’s circle, but again that’s just why I feel he shouldn’t have died at this current moment. Death wasn’t necessary for Blake and Yang to overcome him, but for the narrative it presented it made sense.

It’s not a happy moment for anyone. Blake breaks down and Yang does the best she can, which is to support her friend through her pain. Adam did once care for her after all and she was likely the first person to show him any compassion or anything like that regarding his branding, hence why I think she’s so attached to her, and she was attached to him too. His descent into the madman he is now was slow and gradual and Blake herself says that while they were together as both mentor and student and potentially lovers he was a different man. He let his revenge drive him where he was now and she no longer saw eye-to-eye with him. She left because she stopped believing in him. And now parting with him permanently hurts her. It’s not a time for jokes about how he’s finally gone, it’s not a Bumblebee shipping moment where they could kiss. It was an emotionally-charged scene where we see two broken but healing girls finally overcome their biggest hurdle yet, but to do so they had to take a life, and that’s something that’s certainly going to weigh heavily on them because no matter what Adam did to them, they’re Huntresses and their job is to protect life, not get rid of it. But ultimately they did what had to be done. Adam was far too gone to truly be redeemed or reasoned with.

Now, I’ve been in the FNDM since 2015 and let me tell you though, male characters have almost always been bashed by the majority of fans... Jaune, Mercury, Neptune, Sun... All of them have received such a huge amount of hate with the only one exempt from this being Lie Ren, though I feel that’s more because his character was, at the time, seen just as Monty’s self-insert. Regardless, it just feels like female characters don’t nearly receive the same amount of scrutiny and hatred as male characters do... People in the tags are calling Adam an abusive and pedophilic, psychopathic bastard, and while I agree on most of those, isn’t it kind of hypocritic to call him out on that when there’s another character who falls on the same category? I’m talking about Ilia. I understand and respect Ilia, but she, too, preyed on Blake while she was young considering she doesn’t look any different than Adam does in the Adam trailer too. I’ve seen the tag and I see nothing but love and praise for her and I just ask to myself if the FNDM’s changed at all from these past three years... And then there’s another character who shares many traits with Adam but sees no criticism other than “she’s flat and boring.” This character being Cinder Fall herself.

Adam at the very least could’ve been a vehicle to represent how oppressed and endangered Faunus could and would fight back in such extremist and reckless ways if left unchecked or unsupported but Cinder just falls flat precisely because she doesn’t represent anything, and I just ask myself...  Where's the Cinder hatred for also abusing and manipulating Emerald and Mercury? Where's the Cinder hatred for leading to the mass-death of several innocent Vale civilians through Grimm attacks? Where's the Cinder hatred for killing Pyrrha? Where's the Cinder hatred for being even more obsessed with hurting and killing Ruby than Adam was with Blake? Where's Cinder's hate for killing Ozpin's previous incarnation and scarring Weiss in the same way Adam did with Blake? Where's the Cinder hatred for being a terrorist? It feels almost like all of these awful actions are either ignored or just, swept under the rug either because no one cares about Cinder or because she’s a woman and it’s just honestly saddening how hypocritical the FNDM can be sometimes...

Anyways this post is already far too long to the point I doubt anyone’s going to read it so I’ll just leave it there. If anyone wants to talk to me and engage in friendly and respectful discussion, my DMs are completely open! Just, please no insults or slurs. I know there’s bound to be hate comments but let’s try to keep it respectful ok? 

[jarienn972]

Curse of Undoings - Part 1

So, I sat down a few days ago fully intending to finish the next chapter of my WIP, but when I put pen to paper, the muse had other ideas - some rather evil, whumpy ideas that resulted in this. Essentially, the thought popped into my head to have a cursed Emma torture Killian so I decided to set it as part of the Black Fairy's maniacal plans. Keep in mind that the Emma we first encounter here is cursed to do Fiona's bidding as she heads toward the final battle, and she absolutely should rub some the wrong way. While this is at heart a CS story, it is definitely not going to be an easy road so I'm giving fair warning to anyone not looking for a very bumpy, whumpy ride.

This opening chapter is pretty tame, but I rated it M on both FF.net and AO3 due to some intense scenes that will be coming in future installments.  I’m going to give trigger warnings for physical torture here but at the same time, tag a couple of my fellow whumpers - @hookaroo and @killian-whump who I know will appreciate where this tale is going to go.

It seemed that so much more time had passed than the scant hours since he'd experienced the happiest moment in his several centuries. Mere hours ago, he'd voiced his vows, committing himself to his new bride and then they'd sung and danced in pure bliss, surrounded by family and friends until…

Dark, imposing clouds of pure evil descended upon them, filling minds with the uncertainty of where the Black Fairy's curse might land them. No one knew her plan or her motives except that she intended to enact the final battle, whatever that would entail. So, he'd drawn his wife in closer to his chest as the darkness enveloped them, fearing this may be the last time he would feel the warmth of her body against his. And then all went black.

As he awoke, Killian Jones really wasn't overly surprised to find himself imprisoned, chained to the floor of some dingy, dank concrete-block dungeon. A heavy iron shackle weighed down his right ankle which he could see in the dim light was padlocked to a length of equally heavy chain that ended at a steel ring embedded in the cement floor. A similar shackle encircled his wrist, the tethers long enough to allow movement within his prison cell – from the lumpy cot he lay on that stank of mildew, dust and assorted unmentionable odors to the latrine hole cut into the floor. The chains weren't quite long enough to reach the door of the windowless prison, not that he felt escape would be possible.

Upon awakening, he'd discovered himself to be clothed only in a pair of black boxer briefs and a thin white cotton tee-shirt. He'd been supplied with a scratchy wool blanket that wasn't much thicker than the shirt he was wearing and was scarcely large enough to cover half the length of his body. It certainly did nothing to offset the chill of the concrete cell, not that his comfort would be at the forefront of his captor's mind. Most troublesome to him though was the discovery that his brace and hook had been stripped from him, leaving him feeling more naked than his lack of clothing.

So this was what that infernal fairy had in mind for him? Imprisoned, chained down like some rabid animal, but for what purpose? Did she intend for him to wither and die here while Emma hunted for him? Was Emma locked away in a similar cell? There was no sign of nourishment or water being provided, although he still had no confirmation of exactly how long he'd been imprisoned at this point.

He squeezed his eyes closed, needing to picture his wife's golden tresses and beaming smile, trying not to think of what torrid fate may have befallen his beloved. Would she awaken to a sight as dismal as his? Was she nearby or had they once again been torn away to separate realms?

"I love you, Swan," he whispered as a tear rolled across his cheek, falling onto the filthy mattress. "We will find each other again…"

Her day began as any other – waking at dawn, grabbing coffee at Granny's and then strolling into her office at the Storybrooke Sheriff's station at 8:30am, but this wasn't just any other day. She shrugged off her camel colored leather jacket and hung it on the back of her chair as she leaned in to power on her computer. Yesterday had been a painful day, one she'd spent mostly sequestered from the world and while her day was just beginning, she was already looking to put it behind her.

A stack of open case files awaited her, piled neatly in the middle of her desk. Most of them would be passed on to her deputy – as soon as he decided to show up. Of course, what did she expect after agreeing to hire the Mayor's grandson as deputy? She hadn't really been given much of a choice – if she wanted the extra resources to pursue solving her personal case, she had to do the Mayor a favor. She had to admit though, sometimes it was nice to delegate, and she certainly had plenty of minor cases the young deputy could cut his teeth on.

A minute or so later, she heard the bell attached to the station's front entrance jingle. "Sorry I'm late, Sheriff," the young man shouted as he tossed his jacket onto his desk before scurrying toward her office, trying to avoid direct eye contact with his boss. "Mother Fiona took me out for breakfast this morning to congratulate me for breaking a huge case…"

"Congratulate you for what?" Sheriff Emma Swan scowled. "For being late to work for the third time this week?"

"I know… I'm really sorry about that… I'd say that it won't happen again, but you know…"

"Yes, unfortunately I do, Gideon. Promptness isn't exactly your strong suit but seriously – what's this about you breaking a big case? I wasn't aware we'd had any major crimes around here recently…"

"Ma'am, I broke our biggest case – I captured the criminal we know as Hook. The man who murdered your parents."

"Deputy, you really need to learn to lead with news like that," she scolded, eyes capturing his as she sought more details. "How exactly did you manage to capture such a dangerous criminal yourself and considering that our holding cell over there is vacant, what exactly did you do with him?"

"It was almost by accident, ma'am. He stumbled out into the street drunk and I nearly ran him over with the cruiser. I tried to call you, but your phone kept going straight to voicemail so I called Mother Fiona instead to see what I should do. We decided that the safest thing to do would be to lock him in one of the special cells beneath the town hall."

"That was probably a good idea. You know that yesterday was the anniversary of my parents' deaths… I can't believe that Hook would have the audacity to show up here in my town on such an important date…" She was practically seething with anger at this point but now the man she'd hunted for the past decade was in one of her prison cells. "C'mon, Deputy, its about time that I got to ask that son of a bitch a few questions. Go set up an interrogation room…"

"Yes, ma'am," Gideon replied, barely concealing his giddy smile.

Killian blinked as the door to his cell was suddenly yanked open, flooding the eight foot square room with more light than the bare, flickering bulb dangling from the ceiling provided. He had no idea what to expect as he drew back against the rough block of the cell wall, not quite cowering (Captain Hook didn't cower), but still taking a defensive position. He had no idea which of Fiona's minions might stroll through that doorway and he was hardly in a position to put up much of a fight.

But what he absolutely wasn't prepared for was the face that emerged from the shadows, his features widening into a huge smile as his grateful eyes took in Emma's visage. In stunned surprise, he said a silent prayer that his Swan was okay and that she had found him!

"Swan!" he exclaimed in relief as she stepped closer to the creaky cot he sat on, but instead of reciprocating his joy, her face darkened and she lashed out, slapping him across the face with as much ferocity as she could muster.

"Don't Swan me, you son of a bitch!" she snapped angrily at him as his smile faded into a confused scowl. "How dare you sail back into my town right now!"

"Emma, Love, I don't know what you're talking about. Please, we've got to get out of here…" he pleaded, rattling the chain attached to his wrist, but his plea only earned him another blow, this time from her knuckles backhanding his cheek.

"You think you're getting out of here?" she laughed haughtily. "I finally have you right where I want you, and after a decade of suffering, you will pay for your crimes - as soon as you answer all of my questions about what you did to my parents and where you abandoned their bodies…"

"Emma, I've no idea what you've been led to believe, but your parents are alive and well… This must be the curse, Love… You need to fight it…" He flinched as she brought her fist towards his face again, but this time, she stopped short of striking him.

"Deputy!" she shouted to someone who had lingered on the other side of the heavy cell door.

"Yes, Sheriff?" an eager voice that Killian recognized as belonging to Gideon Gold answered before popping his head around the steel door.

"As I thought he might, our prisoner is resisting answering my questions," she replied with an authoritative glare darkening her emerald eyes. "We'll need to move him into the interrogation room."

"Emma, don't do this," Killian urged, his blue eyes boring into hers, trying to soften the hatred he saw reflected back at him, but instead of breaking through any of her armor, he was rewarded with a taser jabbed into his abdomen. His body convulsed momentarily with the burst of electricity that flowed through his muscles until he collapsed to his knees before her.

"That's more like it," she quipped as she switched off the taser, motioning to her deputy to move in as Killian struggled to catch his breath and regain some of his composure. "If he resists again on his way to interrogation, zap him again." She passed the stun gun to her deputy as she gave the instruction. Gideon nodded, pocketing the device as he withdrew his keys to unlock the padlocks on his prisoner's shackles, yanking Killian's arm painfully behind his back as he forced the pirate to stand.

"You heard the lady," Gideon spat directly into Killian's ear as his boss exited the cell. "Time for phase one of your interrogation and I'll tell you, she always finds a way to get people to talk."

Killian squeezed his eyes closed as Deputy Gideon roughly shoved him towards the open cell door, taser pressed against the small of the pirate's back. Killian took a step forward as well as he could, legs still shaking from the blast of the stun gun and encumbered by the heavy shackle still secured around his ankle. He had absolutely no idea what this interrogation would entail, but after the bizarre exchange with his cursed wife, he was quite certain it wouldn't be pleasant.

Note: I’ve already finished part 2 so it will be posted as soon as I get a chance to upload.

[texanredrose]

Dishonored Ch 8

Winter awoke with a start as something metallic clanged, jolting upright and wiping at her face. Or, rather, she would’ve done the former if a weight wasn’t pinning one of her arms down. Turning her head, she took note of having rolled onto her back sometime during her sleep while Ruby shuffled over, still on her side but now using Winter’s arm as a pillow, her bedroll forgotten. However, the woman didn’t have the heart to wake her just yet, even as the sounds of the camp being torn down around them continued. There were more than enough hands for them to not be missed and Ruby could use a bit more sleep.

Idly, she reached over and brushed a lock of hair behind the woman’s ear, causing her to lightly stir with a murmur before settling again. The face of a rebel, a leader of fighters spanning the globe, looked so different in slumber, when the weight of Remnant had slid from her shoulders. The bit of saliva that trailed from her mouth seemed almost childish, sloppy, while her waking self had to keep track of so much that she couldn’t afford to be such. Even in the darkness, she could see how the lean look to her face hadn’t quite erased the roundness that clung to her cheeks, making her appear almost innocent when those flashing silver eyes were closed. The smoothness of her brow now that she had no worries… Winter found it a little difficult to reconcile the visage before her with the scowling, defiant resistance fighter who’d been laid before her hardly a week before. She’d lived almost her whole life seeing only a handful of emotions from those closest to her, molding her own expressions to keep as much locked away as possible, but in the days since ‘Rose’ became ‘Ruby’, she’d seen far more, from all those who sought to oppose Atlas’ rule.

Strange, she thought, that for all their freedoms, they still wore shackles. Not as heavy, not as damning, but there they hung, like the guillotine poised above their necks, ready to strike down any who would speak out. Only now did she understand what the word ‘freedom’ meant.

“Hey, Rubes, you gonna- oh.” She turned her head to regard Yang, who removed her mask and favored her with a small, soft smile. “You made a mistake, huh? She’s a bit of a cuddle bug when she’s dead tired.”

“I hardly think it a mistake,” Winter replied, keeping her voice soft so as not to disturb the woman. “If it helped her sleep, it’s no trouble at all.”

“Yeah…” For a moment, her expression pinched, lips turning down at the corners before she stepped closer and sat down, resting her mask on her knee. “Say, what are you going to do after all this is over?  We take down Atlas Command, we come back here- Ruby and I, we’ve still got a lot of fighting ahead of us, and not all of it can be solved with explosions. How do you figure into all that?”

“I… don’t know.” She looked at the ceiling of the tent, mulling over the question. “Frankly, I’ve been avoiding thoughts of the future.”

“You really don’t plan on coming back, huh?”

“You’re not wrong… but it’s not just that.” She let out a thoughtful hum, buying herself time to arrange the words. “I meant what I told Weiss. We have only each other for family now; I have no home to return to, no skills to offer, and no identity outside of that which I’ve rejected. In a kingdom without the Atlesian military, I have no place.” A sigh slipped past her lips and she paused, listening, as Ruby stirred slightly. Confident she hadn’t awoken, Winter continued softly. “At the same time, I can’t very well sit on my hands. If… when we return, I’ll have to find some way to apply myself. Perhaps I can’t make up for the mistakes I’ve made but I can die trying.”

Slowly, Yang smiled. “When, huh?”

“I did make a promise.” She indicated the white cloak she wore. “Ruby’s rather clever, using my own predilection to keeping my word against me.”

“Yeah, she’s good at that.” Shaking her head slightly, the woman got to her feet and walked over to a chest tucked into the corner, pulling out a few more masks. “The White Fang are about to move out, use the night to their favor. She’s probably got another hour before there’s too much noise for her to sleep.”

Winter glanced over and weighed her options before trying to, carefully, extricate her arm. “I should go with them.”

“You can’t see in the dark.”

“No, but I might be able to give us an edge.” It took a few tries, seeing as Ruby kept trying to dig her fingers into the fabric of her shirt or the cloak- whatever fabric she could get hold of- but eventually she managed to get free, reaching over and grabbing her discarded coat and repositioning the bedroll. The coat she put in the woman’s arms, giving her something to hold, and the bedroll replaced her arm to prop up Ruby’s head. Confident she’d get at least a little more rest, Winter got to her feet and brushed herself off, stretching out the slight ache in her back from sleeping on the ground. “The commanding officer of the base is… a unique character. I’m fairly certain I can get her to stand down without a fight.”

“Huh, really?” Yang held up her mask. “You can convince her to let the Mistral resistance fighters waltz in and steal half their docked airships?”

“Honestly?” A smirk curled her lips. “I might be able to convince her to join us, in a manner of speaking.”

A few blinks. “You’re kidding.”

“She’s always been an oddball and descended from a long line of Hunters. She’s rather loud and proud about it, despite the decline in the profession since the Pa- since the Great War.” Winter grabbed her mask and set it in place. “If I play my cards right, I should be able to convince her that, were Atlas Command to fall, Hunters will be necessary once again. I daresay she’ll jump at the opportunity.”

Suspicion showed plain in the woman’s face as she passed, lilac eyes following her until she reached the tent flap. “And that’s the person you put in charge of your airship and logistics base?”

“It’s the safest place for her to be.” Winter winced. “She has a rather nasty habit of terrorizing her soldiers in order to attract Grimm. At least the stresses of maintaining ter- kingdom wide supply lines made it so she didn’t have to use her more… extreme methods.”

“Sounds like a regular ball of sunshine.” Yang sighed. “Well, good luck. I’ll tell Blake to hold the attack order until your signal.”

“Thank you.” A mirthless chuckle left her lips. “If she sees my summons, something’s gone terribly wrong and I’ll need all the help I can get.”

“You need some help? I think Terry and Weiss are with-”

“They’re where they need to be.” With a nod, she continued out of the tent. “We’ll link up at the base.”

For a moment, the woman watched her before shrugging. “Alright.”

Winter brushed out, nearly running into Fireheart but carefully stepping around her with nothing more than a nod exchanged between them. All around, people were moving quickly but quietly to break down tents and pack up as much as they could into the few vehicles the resistance had acquired, likely in preparation for transport to a secondary location. Despite the shattered moon beginning to dip over the side of the canyon, they moved efficiently, and she thought, perhaps, her former soldiers could learn a thing or two from the deft motions.

In the back of her mind, she thought about the explanation she’d offered to Yang. Technically, she hadn’t lied, though she had exaggerated the Major’s demeanor. She wasn’t quite as vocal about her dislike of the declining regard for Hunters in favor of the military might but something in the twist of her lips whenever the old tradition came up in conversation spoke volumes to her opinion on the matter.

However, she believed she could accomplish exactly as she said regardless. One way or another, she’d secure the necessary airships without losing any of the resistance fighters in the process.

“Now where are you going?”

“Ah, there you are,” she said as Terry fell into step beside her. “I’ve got an idea and I’m off to see it through. Would you be able to keep an eye on my sister for me in the meantime?”

“What foolish idea has gotten into that head of yours this time?” They put a hand on her shoulder, bringing her to a halt. “I’m not sure how many times you plan on facing death on your own in the next forty-eight hours, but if it’s more than once, I’m afraid I need to step in and object.”

“I’m going to try talking the base commander into giving us the supplies we need-”

Fury filled their tone immediately. “You dust damned moron-”

“It’s Major Semper.”

Terry’s mouth clicked shut as they visibly drew back, looked down for a moment, then nodded. “I stand by my assessment; you’re a dust damned moron- for putting her in charge of anything larger than a puddle.”

“She’s served admirably in the short term.” Winter coughed into her hand. “And I do rotate soldiers through the base at twice the pace as usual.”

“Congratulations; you’re a lucky moron.” They shook their head and made a dismissive gesture with their hands. “Fine. You go deal with that hothead and I’ll keep an eye on your sister.”

She almost continued on her way but paused and turned back. “The others, too.”

“Others?”

“Rose, Dragon, Fireheart, Cat- all of them.” Reaching up, she adjusted the cloak. “In the event I talk myself into trouble, ensure they know what to expect before charging into the base.”

“Well, at least you picked an easy favor.” Terry sighed, their shoulders dropping slightly as they spread their hands. “Think you can try to be careful? I’d rather not explain to your sister how and why you went off on your own like this, much less the others.”

“Dragon knows.”

“And she’s letting you go?”

“Frankly, I don’t think she cares for me much.” A shrug. “To her mind, I’m sure it’s either I die and I’m out of her hair or I live and her friends and family are saved additional losses.”

“I’m so happy you’re nonchalant about this.” They crossed their arms over their chest. “Well… you’d best get going if you plan on beating the White Fang out there.”

“Oh, that won’t be too much trouble,” she said, pulling her sword from her hip and summoning a set of glyphs. “Though, if you’d like to stall, that would be rather helpful.”

Terry tilted their head. “Concerned they might go charging in, guns blazing?”

“Sword at the ready would be more appropriate.” She frowned and glanced in the direction of the White Fang, whom she could see congregating while waiting for the signal to go. “I’ve no doubt… Cub would strongly object to me walking into that base without back-up.”

“She’s not the only one.” Another sigh, this one defeated. “But I’m not wasting any more energy fighting with you over this. I don’t have your stubbornness.” They held out their hand. “Good luck with Semper. You’re going to need it.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” she replied, grasping their forearm briefly, long enough for it to be returned, before turning start running along her glyphs towards the base.

As long as she had time, she could probably succeed.

Probably.

The shouts of people moving about the camp eventually roused her, and she had to wipe away the drool from her mouth when she felt the sticky wetness trailing down her chin. Briefly, she had the presence of mind to hope Winter hadn’t seen it- Yang teased her enough about her messy sleeping habits, she didn’t want to lend credence to any of it- but found the woman nowhere to be seen. Then, belatedly, she realized she’d somehow grabbed her military coat, which hadn’t been near either of them when falling asleep.

“Oh, good, you’re awake.” She looked up, scrubbing at her eyes while Pyrrha stepped over and knelt down, holding out a bowl. “Yang wanted to make sure you ate.”

“Where is she?” More stew, it hardly had a taste anymore.

“Supervising the storage of our camp. She’s already tasked out the tribemates staying behind to get it moved back home.” Pyrrha fidgeted a little bit. “Blake took the White Fang to stand by near the base.”

“Stand by?” Her brow furrowed. “What are they waiting for?”

“Winter said she might be able to convince the base’s commander into joining us.” A pause. “Though, she did warn that it might not work out that way.”

Ruby’s eyes went wide. “Well, who went with her? Terry? Weiss?”

Pyrrha shook her head. “She went alone.”

“And you let her?” Ruby shot to her feet, dropping the bowl and bending down to snatch up her cloak. “When have we ever just let someone go off on their own?”

“You mean besides when you did?” Although a bit of teasing hung in her voice, she did also hold a bit of seriousness in her eyes. “She assured Yang she could handle it.”

“She’s also got a habit of plunging headfirst into serious danger!” She objected, reaching for her weapon. “I’m going after her.”

“Wait, Yang said-” When she rounded on Pyrrha, a bit of silver bleeding from her eyes, the redhead put her hands up in a placating motion. “She just said that, if you were going to run after her, you should keep in mind that we’re not looking for a full scale fight. Use your head.”

For a moment, she considered pointing out the irony of that advice. Then, she discarded it with a roll of her eyes and started running out of the tent, her semblance lending her speed as rose petals trailed behind her.

It really shouldn’t surprise her that Winter had coaxed her into sleeping only to leave off on her own. The woman had a reckless streak that made their run at Atlas Command look tame in comparison. Hardly any action she’d taken recently passed the common sense test, by her own accounts. Now, she was walking into a base on the hope she could flip another officer?

Ruby liked to be an optimist but she didn’t like gambling; this definitely felt like the latter.

She wove her way through the trees, moving as fast as she could- a red blur to any eyes trying to see her. The shattered moon had started its descent, leaving very little light in the pre-dawn hours. If she hadn’t traversed similar terrain for the majority of her life, she might’ve tripped on a rock, or missed a foothold when scaling the worn trail leading up the canyon wall, or slammed into a tree in the forest surrounding the base. However, she managed to avoid all those pitfalls while keeping her eyes open for any sign of Winter.

All too soon, she reached the edge of the main road leading to the base, where she would be entirely exposed. Instead, she crouched next to a tree, scanning to see if there were fresh bootprints or some sort of sign. However, nothing jumped out at her and the base’s entrance sat a mere click up the road. If she couldn’t see the woman from here…

Something dropped down beside her from the trees overhead and she immediately swung Crescent Rose, the weapon still in its collapsed sniper form and ready to blow the head off of whatever thought to sneak up on her.

Or, it would’ve, had she actually been able to follow through. Whoever had caught her off guard also caught her weapon in one hand, just barely keeping it from pressing against her temple while the blade in her other hand came to rest against Ruby’s throat.

“Good morning to you, too,” Winter said coolly, her voice soft.

Relief surged through her as she lowered her weapon. “I would’ve given you a normal greeting if you hadn’t run off on me.”

“Forgive my poor manners.” The dagger came away from her throat and returned to its home in her saber. “I thought sparing your family the pain of an extra battle would be better news to awaken to.”

Ruby rolled her eyes, catching the slight smirk. “I can’t leave you alone without you running off on some ‘I might die but it’s for a good reason’ mission, can I?”

The woman regarded her for a moment, her expression almost impossible to read thanks to her mask. “You technically didn’t leave me alone.”

“If you have to use the word ‘technically’, your argument is flawed,” she replied, glancing up the road. “You haven’t gone up there yet?”

“No. I’m waiting for the change of guard.” She motioned towards the base. “The night guards will be jumpy and eager to go to bed at the end of their shift; they’ll be more inclined to… deal with matters in a method that requires the least amount of paperwork.”

“Shoot first, ask no questions, and hide the evidence.” Ruby hummed, slowly turning to look at the woman. “You knew that before you left, didn’t you?”

“If I’d waited, you would’ve somehow talked me out of it.”

At that, she chuckled. “I would’ve just insisted on going with you.”

“Yes, because not only am I approaching an Atlesian officer in the hopes of flipping her to our side, I’m going to do it with the leader of the resistance beside me.” Winter’s lips twitched into a smile. “You do enjoy taking the dangerous jobs.”

“Says the woman who came out here alone.” Shaking her head, Ruby glanced up the road. “How long until the guards change?”

“The new shift arrived about the time you did.” All traces of mirth faded as she stood tall and stepped out into the road. “You should probably wait here.” Winter glanced her way and something must’ve shown in her eyes because she immediately relented. “Or just stay close.”

“Now you’re getting it.” She moved to stand beside the woman, tucking her weapon away for the moment and adjusting her cloak to cover it. “Will we even make it to the gate before they start shooting?”

“Of course.” A pause. “I’m fairly certain, anyway.”

“That’s not very comforting… but we’ll make it.” Ruby nodded, shifting her weight. “If nothing else, we can retreat and regroup with the others.”

They started on their way down the road, walking side-by-side, with the taller of the two shortening her strides to make it easier for her to keep up. Winter didn’t have to, of course, but make no move to acknowledge it, so she remained silent. The only sound aside from their boots crunching on the dirt and rocks was their cloaks lightly flapping in the breeze and the rustling of leaves.

As they reached the last bend towards the base, Ruby had to steel her nerves. Much like the central base, this one had big, bright spotlight illuminating the walls, a Paladin sitting on either side of the entrance, and at least a full score of Knights standing at the ready, plus a few flesh and blood soldiers. However, the closer they got, the more she noticed the Knights and Paladins seemed… strange, as if they weren’t online for some reason and merely propped up as if they were.

“Be ready to run,” Winter said as the soldiers began straightening up, noting them coming up the road.

Then, two rifles were pointed at them as one of the soldiers shouted. “By the count of five, you’d better be frozen!”

“But I have a delivery of flowers for you.”

Although Ruby didn’t quite understand that response, it did cause the soldiers to relax… slightly. Somewhere in the back of her mind, a voice that sounded suspiciously like Yang’s pointed out that, being ‘Rose’, she could very easily be the ‘flowers’ to be delivered, but she quashed the thought immediately. Winter wouldn’t go through all this trouble just to offer her up to the Atlesian military.

“Identify yourself.” The soldier, although seemingly confident they weren’t foes, hadn’t quite dropped his weapon just yet.

Slowly, deliberately, the woman reached up to pull off her mask while brandishing her saber with her other hand. “Do you honestly need an introduction, Sergeant?”

“C-colonel.” Instantly, both soldiers snapped to attention. “We received word from the central base; we thought you were killed by the resistance, Ma’am.”

“I should be offended you thought so little of me,” she replied, though a bit of amusement curled her lips. “How did you establish communications?”

“By using the old shortwave communications system. We found a few tucked away in the supply shed; several of the other bases across the territory have also found their outdated equipment and got them up and running.” He fidgeted slightly. “Should I send word back to the central base that you’ve arrived, Ma’am? Is the General with you?”

“No, on both accounts.” Winter straightened up, her voice taking on a serious tone, the same voice she’d used when ordering her soldiers. “Get Major Semper down here. I need to speak with her immediately.”

“Uh, yes, Ma’am, right away.” When neither moved, the Sergeant smacked the shoulder of the soldier standing next to him, sending him scurrying into the guard shack set beside the wall. Then his attention fell to her and, beneath her cloak, she wrapped a hand around Crescent Rose just in case. “Uh… Ma’am, is… that-”

“Oh, how rude of me. Allow me to make the introduction.” The woman waved a hand towards her. “This is the one and only Rose, leader of the Mistrali resistance.”

The Sergeant nodded slowly, as if he was more than aware of her identity. “Did you… capture her, Ma’am?”

“No. I’ve decided to join her cause.” He blinked, slowly. “If you’re planning on acting on that information, Sergeant, I advise you do so quickly. I’d like to have my conversation with the Major in relative peace.”

Ruby watched as the grip on his weapon shifted, her weight moved from side-to-side, as if he couldn’t decide whether or not to raise his weapon. “But… why?”

Winter paused, as if she genuinely didn’t expect the question, and then chuckled. “Why? Look around you, Sergeant. Look at what we’ve done to Remnant. The wars we’ve started, the people we’ve slaughtered, all in the name of things we never intended to deliver. Who are we protecting when we execute anyone suspected of having objections? What safety do we provide when the people cower away from us? What are we doing here, except exerting a control on people who should have just as much a right to live as any of us? This land isn’t ours but we’ve taken it, enslaved its people, and desecrated its sanctity, all for the gain of Atlas.” She stopped then, gesturing towards him. “Consider your own position. Were I to simply speak it, you would be killed. Why? Because I am born of Atlas and you are not. Is that fair? Is it right?” A shake of her head. “I don’t believe so, not anymore. It doesn’t absolve me of my crimes, of the blood on my hands, but I’ll not add more deaths to my name if I can help it. Except those who’ve pit us against each other in the first place.” A very deliberate pause. “And those who stand in my way.”

This was part of why she’d made the decision to try reaching out to the woman beneath the soldier. Ruby didn’t have any idea how it looked from a soldier’s perspective; Ilia’s inclusion into the White Fang filled in some gaps but she wouldn’t be able to appeal to those who’d lived and breathed Atlas Command’s dogma their entire lives. Winter, on the other hand, had the same perspective, or at least a similar one to any soldier they came across.

“So… the… central base… is breaking away from the command?” The Sergeant seemed conflicted, fearful- as if he couldn’t decide how to react.

“I didn’t say that.” The severe line of her shoulders dropped. “The General and I defected on our own. I left Major Thorn in charge of the soldiers at the central base; they’re unaware of our changed allegiance as of yet. You’re free to inform them, if you’d like. It doesn’t make much difference to me.”

Tilting his head, the man regarded her with bare faced confusion. “Wait… you didn’t order your entire base to follow you?”

Much to her surprise, Winter laughed. “I hardly think I could proclaim myself to be fighting for people’s freedom while ordering people to follow me into doing so. I simply left instructions for Major Thorn to take care of the soldiers and protect the civilians around the base. I can’t make the decision for them, nor for you.” She raised her sword, then set it back to her hip. “I meant what I said, Sergeant. I’ll only fight you if you force me into it; there’s been too much death already.”

The other soldier returned, a bit of a shake to his voice. “M-ma’am, Major Semper is on her way, and she’s, uh, well, she’s-”

“Angrier than a Lancers’ nest, I imagine. That’s perfectly fine.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “She’s much stupider when angry.” The immediate coughing that followed probably meant that Winter’s assessment had to be close to the mark but she couldn’t help but turning a questioning brow towards the woman. “Not everyone is cut out to be a soldier and fewer make for good officers. Semper falls into neither category.”

“Then how did she get the job?” Ruby noted the soldiers’ stiffening, as if asking the question tread on some unspoken rule.

“Nepotism, mostly. Military lineages are shown preference but Semper descends from a long line of the Hunters. Unfortunately, when Atlas Command dismantled the Hunter profession, they were ultimately absorbed into the rank and file. It’s historically not sat well with any of the Semper family and they’ve become increasingly loud and destructive in their means of announcing their displeasure.” A brief, mirthless chuckle. “She’d much rather fight Grimm than sit around in a uniform. Giving her a command, however, provides her with a few too many opportunities to do the former.”

Some soldiers- like Winter herself- she knew by both name and reputation; others, she only ever heard the latter. “Is she the Terror of Torren?” The nods that answered her weren’t exactly comforting. “And you want to bring her to our side?”

“In a manner of speaking.” A grin curled her lips. “I actually plan to simply set her loose in Atlas. She’ll do the rest on her own.”

Ruby pressed her lips into a thin line. “You’re playing a dangerous game here, Wolf.”

“You’re really not one to talk, Rose.”

Perhaps she had a point there.

Winter tilted her chin up as she heard the shouts from beyond the wall, a sure sign that Major was stomping her way through the base. Really, amongst all her headaches while acting as the commanding officer of Mistral, the woman came in close to the top, but she’d been relatively quiet in recent months. Frankly, no news constituted good news with regards to the Major, so she hadn’t looked into it any further than that.

The commotion coming from within the walls, however, proved she should’ve investigated a while ago.

When the gates opened, she laid eyes on Major Dal Semper, a woman who seemed to revel in disregarding and disrespecting as many regulations as possible. How Winter hadn’t realized all the problems that Atlas Command’s methods caused truly marked a testament to how deeply ingrained their way of life had become, only recognizing the problem when someone else suggested a better alternative.

Her uniform had the sleeves ripped off, the shirt untucked, and while she had her pant legs bloused, the boots had scuff marks and gouges, and her long brown hair fell around her shoulders like a cloak of her own, far past her hips. And she did not look pleased.

“Which one of you idiots woke me up?” She called, her voice bellowing out in the early morning air. “And which of you idiots is pretending to be the Colonel?”

“What makes you think I’m pretending?” Winter’s dry tone made the woman’s steps stutter but she managed to continue on as if nothing was remiss. “You’re looking well rested, Major.”

“You’re not lookin’ too shabby for a dead woman yourself.” A shake of her head as green eyes briefly fell on Rose. “I get the feelin’ I drank too much last night.”

“Your preference for indulgence aside, perhaps we should speak later.” She turned, as if to leave. “I’d rather have you sober before I present a solution to your… disagreements with military protocol.”

“Now, hold on a sec.” She turned towards the soldiers. “Hey, either of you have a cig?” Once provided with a cigarette and a lighter, Semper lit it and blew out the first puff before continuing. “What sort of ‘solution’ does Colonel I’ve-Got-A-Stick-Lodged-Up-My-Ass have for me, huh? It’s not like you to go against the rules.”

“Perhaps not before but, as a defector, I’ve found quite a distaste for them.”

“Defector, huh?” Her gaze flicked over to Rose. “I might buy that. Would certainly explain how half a day’s trip turned into two. Had to stop by and get your new orders.”

“Essentially, yes.” Most of their interactions went along these lines, with the Major trying her hardest to dig under Winter’s skin. The woman always craved a fight, some sort of conflict, and it would worry her if she didn’t content herself with fighting Grimm. Were those destructive inclinations ever turned on her fellow soldiers… well, that had been a concern before. Now, she was banking on it. “The resistance will be launching a decisive strike against Atlas Command using your airships.”

“The resistance, huh? ‘Cause a report came in yesterday about some White Fang bastards piloting a few airships across Mistral.”

“They’re with us.” A smile curled her lips. “We’ve got the numbers to make a real go at this.”

“And how does this solve my problem?”

Now, all she had to do was bait the hook and wait. “When Atlas Command falls, all of Atlas will be thrown into disarray. If the government doesn’t collapse, it’ll come close enough that news will spread- and quickly. That sort of instability… I’m sure many people will become scared and confused. Times like that can become dark, quickly.”

Although she made an impressive show of keeping a neutral expression, Semper’s eyes lit up. Despair and confusion meant a host of negative emotions, and negative emotions meant Grimm in large numbers- just the sort of battle the Major favored. “That could be interesting for the five minutes it’ll take for me to clear out the Grimm.”

An overstatement of her abilities happened to be another quirk the woman possessed that Winter found herself grateful for now. “I can imagine but what interests me more is what will replace Atlas Command.” She made a vague motion with her hand. “People might be hard pressed to put their faith in the military after such a catastrophic event. They may even be inclined to turn back to something that hasn’t failed them in the past… like the old Hunter guilds.”

“That so?” Semper took a long drag on the cigarette before throwing aside, the smoke curling out of her mouth and dispersing. “I don’t suppose you’ll be trying to spearhead that initiative yourself, eh?”

“I have no interest in what happens to Atlas after the command structure is compromised.” Nodding towards the base, she did her best to keep a straight face through the lie. For all their faults, she could only hold the general population to the same amount of guilt she herself carried. If they sought redemption or amends, it wouldn’t be up to her whether or not they would be granted it, but she knew very well that it wasn’t Semper’s concern. The Major wouldn’t dare harm the people, lest she lose the audience she so badly wanted to impress. “I’ll collect my flagship and half the fleet of airships. What you do with the rest and whatever rabble you’ve accumulated who are inclined to your… ideas are none of my concern.”

Over the years, there were soldiers who requested to be stationed at the logistics base. She thought them insane but honestly needed a permanent party to keep things running smoothly so she didn’t question it; what they did aside from keeping her supply lines intact, she couldn’t be troubled with on top of everything else. A large part of her suspected they were of like minds, content with making each other’s lives hell so long as it drew Grimm to them, and enough reports trickled in to indicate they succeeded in many ways.

“So... “ She made a motion with her hand, another cigarette offered up and lit before she continued. “You’re proposing I assist you in launching a strike against Atlas Command- or, at least, do nothing to hinder you- and I’ll be free to reinstate Hunters as a legitimate profession? That right?”

“More or less.” She held up a finger. “A caveat I will include is that, whatever you might do, you keep it in Atlas. The other kingdoms of Remnant are not your playgrounds.”

Semper raised a brow at ‘kingdoms’ but didn’t object to the designation while taking a long drag on her cigarette. “A worldwide rebellion’s going to cause a lot of hurtin’, one way or another. That’s a lot of places Grimm might be heading.”

“I’m sure if anyone’s in need of your services, they’ll find a way of contacting you.”

Winter could tell she’d taken the bait, had bitten deep enough that the hook wouldn’t dislodge, but waited until she’d blown out a long stream of smoke before allowing herself to relax by the smallest amount. “Alright, Colonel. You’ve got yourself a deal.” Then she hiked a thumb behind her. “Now what are you going to do with these bastards?”

“I’ll worry about the soldiers here. You just concern yourself with those who are eager to fight Grimm.”

Semper smiled, and it looked just as much deadly as disconcerting. “Best news I’ve ever heard and probably the only order I’ve looked forward to following.” She turned. “I leave command to you, Colonel.”

“It’s Wolf now,” she said, feeling now to be the appropriate time to correct the Major. “I don’t serve Atlas anymore.”

“I never did, but you still called me ‘Major’,” she replied, turning around and heading into the base, making a vague motion over her shoulder. “We’re not soldiers anymore so, honestly, fuck it. Put the Sergeant in charge.”

Once certain Semper was out of earshot, she muttered under her breath. “I hate that woman.”

“That was impressive.” She turned her head to see the smile shining in silver eyes. “You played her like a fiddle.”

“I have my moments of brilliance.” Then she winced. “Of course, I’m quite certain my inattentiveness has caused more than a few of the problems here.” Then she shook her head to dislodge the thought. Right now, additional guilt would do her little good. “Semper’s been a thorn in my side for years but at least now I can have her plying her talents to someone else’s aggravation.”

“Ma’am? Er, Wolf?” She looked over to the Sergeant, who seemed to be wrestling with something. “What will happen to those of us outside of Atlas if you succeed?”

“Rose?” Ultimately, the decision didn’t fall to her. Frankly, she’d much prefer the option that led to the least amount of bloodshed, however that might work out.

“We’ve talked about it.” Although the mask obscured it, Winter had seen the woman’s expression enough to guess at the thoughtful frown on her lips just by the way her eyes tightened. “We’re not going to start an all out war- not yet, anyway, but we’re going to take our homes back. Mistral will be ours again. If any Atlesians don’t like it, they can go back to Atlas. Otherwise? In time, I think we could learn to coexist.”

The Sergeant didn’t look too comfortable with that answer. “In time?”

“Honestly, a lot of people are pretty angry with Atlas as a whole and Atlesians by extension. There’s probably going to be some push back, some lingering resentment. The scars that have been inflicted on us won’t heal overnight.” Then Rose looked at her for a moment. “But if we try, together, we can eventually bridge those gaps.”

“Rose is right. There’s a lot of damage to be undone before we can expect the sins of our pasts to wash clean,” Winter said, suspecting her opinion might carry a bit more weight. “For those who wish to stay, it will be worth it to listen to those we’ve harmed, however unintentional or indirect that harm might’ve been.”

The Sergeant nodded, though fear lingered in his eyes. “So… for now, I guess it’s load up in an airship and see what happens?”

“With Major Semper relinquishing her command, the next officer in line assumes the position, not me.” Her eyes narrowed as she tried to recall the name of who that might be. “I believe that’s Captain Wilder. Have him informed of the situation.” Then she turned towards Rose. “I believe moving Dragon’s forces into the base should be safe now. We’ll need to load up soon to make it to Atlas.”

“Right.” Silver eyes bounced between her and the base. “Are you sure…”

“I’ll be fine.” She reached out, putting a hand on the woman’s shoulder and offering a small smile. “They might not be the most appealing of allies but Semper won’t let anything delay us if it means she has a chance of realizing her little pet dream. She’s not the easiest person to work with but she’ll do whatever it takes to see her aims through.”

“None of this is comforting, just so you know.”

“I’m touched you’re worried about me but you shouldn’t.” Reaching up, she set her mask back in place. “Dawn is coming. We can’t delay for the sake of an argument.”

Rose huffed, turning her head away. “Send a summon if you get into trouble.” She nodded. “And be somewhere I can find you when I get back.”

“Of course,” she said, squeezing lightly before gently pushing the woman on her way. “Now go. If you delay much longer, they might think something’s wrong.” Although still reluctant, Winter watched Rose turn and leave, becoming nothing more than a blur of rose petals through the trees in the breaking light of dawn. Then, she turned her attention to the soldiers. “Now, Captain Wilder?”

“Uh, right.” The Sergeant nudged his counterpart again- who seemed rather used to the treatment- and hurried off to call for the Captain.

Ruby made it back to Blake and Yang in record time, wanting not a second wasted. She didn’t trust the Major in the slightest nor the soldiers under her command and leaving Winter in the midst of them made her stomach churn. It felt too much like abandoning an ally, a friend, family- like if she’d left Blake or Yang or Pyrrha or Ren behind in a snake pit. Could they handle it? Probably. Did she like it? Absolutely not.

“Welcome back, Rubes.” Her sister smirked, the expression audible despite being covered. “I’m guessing Wolf managed to talk her way in.”

“No thanks to us,” she replied, setting aside her frustration with Yang’s decision to let the woman go off alone aside for the moment. “We’re good to move into the base. Cat, go grab your airships; we’ll use the base’s docks to load supplies and people after going over the plan.”

“Really? You wanna do that before we start for Atlas?” Despite the question, her sister didn’t seem critical of the decision- merely curious.

“We might come across enemies in the air and there’s always a chance there won’t be time when we need it; we have to know what we’re fighting for before we leave for the battle,” she replied, then beckoned the woman closer. “And I need to talk to you.”

“Right. Cub, Tiger, come with me,” Blake said, recognizing the tone in her voice and opting to move as many people away from a ticked off Ruby as possible before the argument started.

Meanwhile, Yang sauntered over nonchalantly, shrugging her shoulders. “Hey, she had a plan, who was I to stand in her way?”

“I wish you had that mentality when I had my plan.”

“That’s different; you’re my sister-”

“That doesn’t make her less important!” Frustration colored her tone, causing Pyrrha to step away and at least feign that she wasn’t listening to the conversation while directing Ren and Nora to lead the way for the others to follow. The three of them would catch up later. “One life doesn’t mean more than another, that’s why we’re doing this in the first place!”

“Look, I’ll buy that she’s genuinely on our side. I’ll even give it to her that she’s probably too hard on herself, all things considered. But don’t ask me to worry after her like I do for you.” Yang shook her head and waved a hand, her stubbornness rearing its head. “She hasn’t spent this whole time wondering how many friends she’s going to lose- friends who might not have done anything wrong, who were just trying to survive. She wants to gamble with her life? I’m not stopping her.” Her eyes flashed red beneath her mask. “You want to say she’s one of us? Let her feel like one of us. She could do with a bit of fear, of feeling like she’s alone in a world trying to kill her.”

Ruby’s hands balled into fists. On a rational level, she understood this was just displaced anger, a lifetime of fury finding a willing target who wouldn’t question it in the slightest. However, if her sister kept thinking like that, it would just cause more problems down the line, so she had to pull out all the stops. “So I guess when she abandoned her post, came to us with vital intelligence, fully knowing it would likely mean her own sister would call for her death- that doesn’t mean anything, huh? Not even her willingness to fight and possibly kill her own mother so we can succeed. That somehow doesn’t compare, because that’s something we’ve felt, too, right? With Raven? Mom?”

The woman drew back, obviously not expecting such a low blow. Yang’s feelings regarding both Raven and Summer were… complicated, to put it lightly, and they talked about it rarely because of how confused it made her sister. Throughout their lives, Yang never called Raven ‘mom’, because that was Summer, and Raven demanded more of Yang without really acknowledging their shared blood. She wasn’t a kind woman, not in the sense of freely given affection, and she could be harsh, especially towards Ruby… but she’d never think of fighting her. Even if she wasn’t good at being a mother, she did try on occasion, and that meant something to both of them.

“How we came to be here doesn’t matter,” she said, taking Yang’s silence as a sign she’d won some ground. “We’re here now, fighting on the same side. But if you’re going to keep holding her past against her, we’re going to defeat ourselves before we start.” Even though she felt more than a little annoyed with her sister at present, she still reached out and set a hand on her shoulder. “Everyone makes mistakes and, yeah, hers probably mean a lot of people died. That wasn’t her choice, though, and if we’re going to hold it against her that she didn’t break free of a brainwashed populace earlier in her life then we have to acknowledge what she’s sacrificed- what she will sacrifice, just to keep standing beside us. And how many times we did the same thing.”

She immediately turned her head, looking towards the rising sun just beginning to break over Mistral. Hopefully, its last sunrise as a territory under Atlas Command. “Okay, fine. I should’ve sent someone with her. I’m sorry.”

Ruby probably couldn’t ask for anything more. “I’m not the one you should be apologizing to.”

“Hey, she’s the one who wanted to run off in the first place. I trusted her to know her limits!” Her hands went up, a futile gesture of frustration. “Whatever. I won’t do it again, alright? Besides, it’s not like anything-”

The sounds of explosions and gunfire echoed out from the base, tongues of flames leaping up and over the walls and treetops.

“Uh… retract last statement, I guess.” Yang puffed out a breath. “Guess Wolf wasn’t able to get quite as clean an agreement as she wanted.”

“Or someone went back on her word.” She definitely shouldn’t have left Winter alone within the walls of that damned base. “Come on, we gotta move.”

“Don’t need to tell me twice,” her sister said, her gauntlets expanding a moment before she turned, grabbing Pyrrha’s hand and swinging her around, throwing her girlfriend into the air before launching herself after.

Meanwhile, Ruby flipped out Crescent Rose, giving herself a bit of a boost while petals trailed in her wake.

It looked like there’d be a bit of a fight after all.

Winter brushed dirt from the borrowed cloak, a frown twisting her lips. As accustomed as she’d become to being wrong about various things in the past week or so, she still didn’t like it, and she should’ve guessed the soldiers serving under Semper would have decidedly less patience for her in particular than those back at the central base. Naturally, quite a few would have an objection to the idea of standing idly by while a combat force mounted an assault on Atlas Command, and she expected the majority of those loyal to their homeland would remain silent for the time being out of fear of being outnumbered.

However, seeing as Semper actually wasn’t too keen on ensuring her subordinates kept their damned mouths shut for the time being, word had gotten out, and a few soldiers opted to try stopping the attack before it began. That meant a small hail of bullets and a few dust grenades headed her way, among other things.

Blue eyes scanned the area around her, taking note of the groaning and wounded fools who’d thought they could take her by surprise. Although she might’ve been resigned to her desk position, she could still fight, Terry’s criticisms notwithstanding. Only a few managed to slip through her defenses, mostly because it seemed more like a free-for-all where those who dared try and stop the resistance worked up the nerve to attack only when it seemed like they might actually win, forcing her to not attack the various bystanders until they showed aggressive action first.

She rather hated being on the back foot.

“Uh, C-colonel?” A man spoke up, looking around and the smoldering holes left by the explosions and the few summons she had still roaming around after using her would-be attackers as chew toys. “You want-wanted to see me?”

Turning, she lifted her saber until the point of her blade rested just beneath his chin. “First, I’m planning on aiding a revolution to bring down Atlas Command. Are you going to try and stop me?”

He swallowed hard. “N-no? Ma’am?”

“Good man.” Removing her sword, she set it back at her hip. “Now, I’m sure you’ve heard Major Semper will be departing with us on a mission of her own; that leaves you in charge of this base, Captain. You will be charged with protecting the soldiers here, as well as any civilians who come under your care.”

Confusion splayed across his expression, just beneath the fear as his eyes darted around to the wounded. “Protect them?”

“Yes.” She paused, trying to find the right words. “I realize that many will not understand what I’m doing here, Captain. All of us have lived our lives believing that Atlas Command has our best interests at heart. But I no longer believe that to be the case and I cannot stand idly by while innocent people are murdered for the benefit of a select few. That is not why I put on that uniform.”

He looked down, first at his own attire before taking in hers. “What will happen if you succeed?”

“Those who wish to remain loyal to Atlas will be sent back. Those who wish to build a new future, one where we treat each other with the respect each of us deserves, may remain here, though it will take time for us to find our place.” She turned her head, looking at the forest beyond the base, picturing the canyon that stood between the trees and the mountains in the distance. Mistral will be returned to those we stole it from, just as Vale and Vacuo will. Menagerie will become a proper kingdom. The face of Remnant will change.”

“And… this… this is what you think is right?” Change sparked fear in even the most hardened soldiers, because change brought with it the unknown.

Winter never feared the unknown; she saw it as a challenge to overcome, a test to see how much she could learn and what she could do with that knowledge. She sought answers when others preferred lies. “Yes.”

“But… why?” He looked so lost then, and she could see how the others who’d gathered and watched, who traded whispers and looked like they might intervene as well, seemed to all pay close attention to her answer.

She squared her shoulders and looked him dead in the eye. “Atlas Command charged me with leading an extermination force to murder every single last person in Menagerie. Genocide, Captain, and to quote a man smarter than I, I’ve grown rather tired of everyone else being ‘other’, and ‘other’ being code for ‘lesser’. I’ll not become a mass murderer.”

“But you’ll wage a war against Atlas Command?” Someone called out, and she looked around but found no one would meet her gaze.

“You truly believe they compare?” Winter raised her voice so everyone could hear- so they would hear, whether they wanted to or not. “You, soldiers of Atlas, who proclaim to be willing to lay down your lives to defend her, would balk at the idea of someone actually taking you up on the offer? If you do not believe in what you’re doing enough to put your own lives on the line, as you have sworn to do, perhaps you should re-examine your motives and your conscience, if you possess one.” Her frown worsened. “Children, unarmed civilians, effective slaves- murdering them in cold blood is a world away from meeting an opposing force on the field of battle. To call them the same proves that you’ve blinded yourself to the horrors we’ve committed with our own hands. If I were to strike you down now, simply because I could, would that be fair? Would it be right? Would it be just?” No one met her gaze, because judging by the insignias on their shoulders and lapels, she very well could do exactly that, and face no repercussions for her actions, and while they might secretly curse their lot in life, they would never voice that displeasure out of fear. From the corner of her eye, she spotted Rose appearing in a flutter of petals, her cloak whipping about her, but this remained something she had to do herself. For as compelling as the woman could be, Winter realized that the soldiers around her still held her in some regard, and her voice would carry farther for that fact alone. “I will not have innocent blood on my hands again. I will join the march on Atlas Command and hold them accountable for the suffering they’ve caused and I will destroy any who seek to protect them, to defend them, to assert that Atlas, as conquerors and traitors to their own allies, to their own people, hold any greater right over the world than those from whom they stole it away.” She paused, long enough to pick up on the faint shouts, the rhythm of boots running through the forest, of Dragon’s voice rallying the resistance into a potential assault. They likely took the little… disagreement earlier as signs of trouble. “You can fear the truth all you wish; that won’t change it. We’ve done terrible things in the name of Atlas and we’ve justified them in whatever way helped us sleep at night. I did, too, but I’ve since come to see the world not as Atlas Command wishes it to be, but how it is. We are monsters of our own design, and, if that is all I can be, I will turn on those who made me what I am. They deserve no better fate for daring to proclaim themselves better than others. If it were even the slightest bit true, then they’d have nothing to fear; the truth is, we’re all the same yet different. And no one is above or below anyone else.”

Silence prevailed among the soldiers, gradually impeded upon as the resistance arrived, all ready to join a battle that hadn’t occurred. Or, rather, hoping for one they could actually fight, for a war did wage within every soldier standing in the yard just then. However, it wasn’t the physical sort.

“Ma’am?” She turned towards Captain Wilder and nodded, bidding him to speak. It took him a moment before he found the words and fear threaded through them, plain as the day breaking. “Atlas is my home. I don’t- I- what happens to Mistral isn’t-”

“Then I suggest you return,” she said, reaching out to put a hand on his shoulder. “And stay out of our way. When Atlas Command falls, it’ll be up to people like you to rebuild her into a kingdom worthy of serving.” Very deliberately, she put a hand on her sword. “Though I caution you to remember that, once liberated, the kingdoms of Remnant will never bow to Atlas again. The future is one of cooperation, seeing each other as equals, and nothing less.”

He nodded, taking a step back, and in what little she could glean from the soldiers crowded into the yard, many would follow the Captain rather than Semper or her. A few looked disgruntled, displeased with the charges she’d laid out, but they hid their emotions as best they could as a few seemed to sneak glances at the Faunus who’d gathered, hope shining in a few faces while others obviously remained skeptical.

She didn’t expect to take any of these soldiers with them against Atlas; upon revealing her allegiance, she’d frankly anticipated some resistance, but nothing that would impede their departure. With communication restored to the bases around Mistral, though, there stood a chance they’d return to a kingdom under siege by the Atlesian forces that remained.

Winter swallowed past the lump in her throat as she realized she may have already lied. More innocent blood might very well be on her hands in the near future.

“Ma’am?” She turned her head, noting the soldier who approached and faltered, unable to tell if he should salute or not before opting against it. At any other time, she might’ve considered it a slight, but now she could see something akin to respect- confused, admittedly, but sincere all the same- as he continued. “Major Thorn would like to speak with you.”

“Very well.” With a nod, she turned to follow him, but found her arm caught by Rose.

“You’re not a monster.” Silver eyes flashed, demanding she brook no argument. “But if the things you’ve done in the past make you a monster, the things you’re doing now make you a hero.”

The corners of her mouth tugged, almost a smile. “I hope I can believe that one day.”

Somehow, she felt like Ruby took that as a challenge. “Hurry back, Wolf of Mistral. We don’t have much time.”

She nodded before turning away, and then a small grin did claim her lips.

Wolf of Mistral. She rather liked the sound of that.

[pikelanette]

A Pirate’s Life For Me (chapter 1)

Pairing: pikelan Words: 2704 Rated: M (for language) Link: ao3 

a multi-chapter pikelan pirate AU

He is thrown into the cellblock unceremoniously, tasting dirt as his face slams into the wood of the brig. His head spins and the air is pushed out of his lungs. Part of him wants to get up and knock someone’s fucking lights out, but he forces himself to remain on the floor.

“There ya go, lass,” the man who dragged him here snarls, “Fix him up, will ya?”

“Go fuck yourself,” another voice retorts immediately.

Scanlan looks up to assess who else is in the room with him, but as soon as he does a boot slams into the back of his head and it whacks back against the wood.

“Get off!” the voice yells, distraught, and the pirate behind him chuckles.

“Thought you might like a challenge.”

He tries to open his eyes again, but the entire room is swaying and his vision is blurry. His head pounds and he tastes iron and rust.

Someone grabs him by the shoulders and drags him further into the cell.

“I’ll take him.”

The voice is close to his ears now, and he vaguely registers the way the person is holding him as protective. They’re shielding him from more blows.

“Just go,” they tell his captor, the voice bitter and angry.

The pirate just chuckles again and walks off, locking the door behind him.

Whoever is with him waits for the pirate’s boots to hit the deck above them before they carefully wipe his hair out of his face. Since in his disguised form his hair is shorter, it doesn’t really help, but she gets a clear look at his fake visage.

“Gods damn it,” his companion says, and then a warm glow rushes over him that is both familiar and strange to him.

He’s had his share of healing magic before, of course, but there is something different about this – something radiant. This person is using divine magic. He doesn’t come across that, usually.

He groans in relief as the pain in his head subsides and before long he feels confident enough to open his eyes. His gaze falls on someone who is definitely not what he had expected to find.

She’s gnomish, for one, and absolutely gorgeous. Her stark-white hair is braided and wrapped up around her head like a crown, although she looks ragged, and small freckles dot her face. Her eyes are clear blue and she is looking down at him with a look on her face that dangles between accusatory and worried.

“There you are,” she says, “What did you do to end up here, huh?”

Scanlan just lays on the floor, frozen, staring up at her with big eyes. He’s half in her lap, with her hands on his neck and shoulders, and to his great surprise there is no place he would rather be at the moment than right here. This was already worth it.

“No matter. It probably wasn’t anything impressive, hm? It didn’t take much for me to end up here.” The woman shakes her head and presses one of her hands against his forehead. “I’m Pike. I’ll get you back up in no time.”

Oh, he was sure of that.

He bit his tongue to keep himself from saying anything stupid. This was not the time to hit on the gorgeous lady.

“Thank you,” he croaked. He felt another pulse of warmth spread from her hand into his forehead and the last of his headache dissipated.

Anger flared in her eyes when she heard how weak he sounded and she glared up at the ceiling as though she could curse the crew from down here. Maybe she could. He knew nothing about clerics.

“One of these days I’ll Guiding Bolt them up their butts,” she grumbled.

He groaned again and tried to sit up a little straighter, looking at her over his shoulder. “Why don’t you?”

Pike sighed wistfully, and almost absent-mindedly pushed against his shoulders again to force him back into her lap. She was really strong for a gnome and the action turned him on just a little.

“Because of my brother,” she said.

She looked down and smiled at him, blatantly ignoring that she had just manhandled him. How had he managed to find such an angel?

“Although Grog would be extremely proud if I died while taking on a ship full of pirates… He would also be extremely sad. I don’t…” A pained expression appeared on her face. “I can’t die here. I can’t do that to him.”

Fast as lightning, her eyes shifted back to anger and she glared up at the ceiling again. “So I’m stuck here.”

“Well,” Scanlan said carefully, catching her attention enough for her to look back down at him. He sent her a hesitant smile, trying to stay in character. “So am I.”

She smiled back. “Yeah. I’m really sorry for you, but I’m happy for the company, I must say.”

He attempted to look around the room they were in without getting up again. He felt like that probably wouldn’t go too smoothly this time around either.

The cell was small and damp, and had only a few blankets in the corner, no bed, and a bedpan somewhere to the left. It was closed off with floor-to-ceiling bars that had been locked with something he didn’t think he’d be able to pick. Home sweet home.

“How long have you been here?” he asked as he reviewed their surroundings.

“A couple of weeks?” Pike answered, “I’m not sure, really. They don’t let me up, and I have nothing to mark the days with. I lost track.”

He looked back at her. “How’d you get here?”

She sighed again. “Do you know what an Extra Sail is?”

Scanlan repressed a smile and nodded. Of course he did – an Extra Sail was what sailors called the clerics that were brought onto large merchant vessels for long trips. They worked as a sort of medic and a guard simultaneously – healing when they must, fighting when they could. They were usually hired by the more savoury types of businessmen on the water.

“Well, I was one of those,” Pike said, “Until my ship was attacked a few weeks ago. They threw the captain overboard very quickly and from then on it was mayhem. They took everything and dumped my crew into the water. They only spared me because they figured they could use me.” She grumbled again. “I wish I could say that wasn’t true. But here I am, cleaning up their dirty work. No offense.”

“None taken,” he said. She looked troubled, staring off blankly into the distance for a moment, probably remembering her fallen companions. “What was your ship called?”

“The Broken Howl,” Pike muttered.

Ah. He’d heard of that one. She was sturdy – or she had been. Word was that she’d been lost at see for over a month now. The timeline fit.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

She smiled at him again, putting on a brave face. “It’s okay. I’m just not sure what to do now.”

“Me neither. But Pike…” He attempted to get up again, and this time she let him. Her hand fell from his forehead, finally, and he grabbed it and looked at her intently. “You seem very trustworthy. You’re a victim here, like me. I trust you. So, I need to tell you a secret. You have to promise to keep it, okay?”

“O-okay,” she told him, her eyes wide.

Scanlan dropped his spell, revealing his own gnomish form to her – the long, brown ponytail, upturned nose, dark eyes, and slightly pointed ears.

Pike gasped, obviously surprised, and he scrambled to explain himself.

“I-I-I-I panicked! I didn’t know what to do! They just boarded the ship and plucked me from it, so I figured I’d pretend to be some rich halfling guy I know, and maybe they would let me live!”

“Oh, man…” Pike muttered, her eyes shooting up to the opening in the deck to make sure no one happened to come in just then.

“I know, I know,” he added quickly, “But I can’t drop it now. They’ll kill me!”

“They’ll also kill you once they realise you won’t get them any money!”

“It’s okay!” he said, “We’re still a ways out of the next port town. I’ll figure something out before then. Maybe we can escape!”

He squeezed her hand, hoping to convince her. Pike looked at him doubtfully, but she didn’t pull away. He was counting on her need for a friend in this time to save his ass. He hadn’t expected there to be another prisoner – these pirates were notorious for not keeping any.

“Fine,” she said, “But we have to be careful! I told you, I’m not risking my brother’s sister.”

“What?”

“I’m not risking the life of the sister of my brother! Me! I won’t – I won’t risk that my brother’s sister dies. Who is me!”

“Yeah, yeah, I got that that the first time. The last part, that is. The rest makes zero sense to me.”

She sighed again. “Look. I would gladly give my life trying to escape from this ship. But I won’t risk Grog having to mourn me. So we have to be careful.”

“Sure,” he affirmed emphatically, “I can be careful.”

“How often can you do that?” she asked.

“The disguise? A few times a day.”

“How long does it last?”

“Eight hours.”

She nodded. “That should do it.”

After that, she inspected him for a moment, her gaze swiping over him in a bit more detail. He hoped the worn-out, rugged look he had going on was doing it for her.

“Another gnome, huh?” she muttered. Her gaze landed on his eyes and they stared at each other for a few seconds. After they had passed, the smallest of blushes appeared on her cheek and wow, he could die, that sight was not for this world.

“You should probably change back,” she whispered, and she pulled her hand away.

“Ah, yeah.” He muttered the incantation and quickly recast his disguise on himself, moving back into his halfling form.

Pike hesitated for a moment, but then she reached out and touched his ponytail, which was still there underneath the illusion. She dragged her fingers down it for a moment and Scanlan’s jaw went slack. He stared up at her unabashedly as she touched his hair. However, she suddenly seemed to realise what she was doing and pulled away again, moving a foot or so away from him.

“We’ll share the blankets,” she said, and that sure was music to his ears. Pike sent him a small smile. “I guess we’re roomies now. What’s your name?”

“Scanlan,” he said, before he could actively decide whether or not to use a false name.

“It’s nice to meet you, Scanlan. Let’s see how this goes.”

Oh yes, he thought, let’s.

They spent the afternoon exchanging tidbits of information and just sitting around the space, going over what had happened that day in their heads. At some point, the guy who had thrown him in there returned with some disgusting food and basically threw it at them, spilling part of it over the floor of their cell.

They waited for him and his barking laughter to disappear from their space before starting to eat the rest of it. Pike cast a cantrip and the spilled food disappeared immediately. It explained why she didn’t smell like shit after being in this cell for so long, and he was extremely grateful at the prospect of being able to magically clean himself every day. He didn’t do well when he felt dirty. He was better than that.

At night, they huddled together under the blanket, big spoon and little spoon, and she was so matter-of-fact about it that he didn’t mistake it for any sort of invitation. She was a little cold, and her hands held onto a clasp on her collar tightly. He’d seen her touch it absent-mindedly throughout the day, but he hadn’t asked about it yet. He didn’t recognise the symbol.

He cleared his throat in the dark that had fallen over them and lightly touched her hand. “Is that from your god?”

“What? Oh.” She looked at the symbol in her hands. “Yes. From Sarenrae. The Everlight.”

“Have you been a follower of her for long or…?”

“All my life.” Pike shifted against him a little and he dropped his arm over her waist, trying to warm her up a little. She must be uncomfortable, feeling so cold. “My grandfather taught me about her. He’s… He’s a longtime follower of hers as well.”

“I don’t really know much about her,” he admitted.

“Few people do. But she’s amazing. Kind, and strong, and powerful. She’s kept me safe a million times.”

“She’s not doing a great job right now, though.”

He could smack himself for saying anything. However, Pike seemed unbothered.

“I don’t know,” she said, “You showed up.”

He let out a mirthless chuckle. “I’m not sure I’ll be of much use to you.”

“Most people underestimate how strong people are when they work together,” Pike just said, “But I don’t. If we want the same thing, we’ll work something out. I haven’t given up yet.”

“You really haven’t, have you?”

He was a little awed by it, to be honest. Even after weeks stuck in this tiny cell on her own with nothing but a bedpan and a blanket, Pike still seemed strong and unbroken. She had an undeniable air of hope around her, but it didn’t seem small and weak like it did in most people he faced – instead, it was like a beacon, a burning flame that kept her fed and well-kept, ready for whatever life would throw at her next. It was admirable, really.

And, possibly, useful.

“Well, I could use some strength,” he sighed. His lips curled up into a mischievous smile. “Maybe I should pray to your Sarenrae.”

She ignored that he clearly wasn’t serious. “Maybe you should. She might like you.”

“I doubt that,” he snorted.

“Why’s that? You seem pretty agreeable to me.”

“Well, you’ve only known me for a few hours, darling.”

The endearment slipped out of his mouth without his consent, and he noticed that a bit of his sailor’s accent had come through as well. He had to be careful with this lady, or he would end up telling everyone exactly who he was.

“You might change your mind,” he added quickly in his usual voice.

Pike yawned in his arms and something warm spread through his chest for a moment.

“We’ll see,” she said, “Looks like I’ll be seeing a lot of you.”

“Looks like,” he affirmed. But Pike had already fallen asleep.

Scanlan stayed up for a little longer, holding her against him. The next few weeks he’d be walking on eggshells. He had to find the best way to refrain from antagonising anyone on this ship – not the pirates, not Pike. He pondered for a while longer, trying to figure out how to do what he had come here to do without putting Pike in danger.

She murmured something in her sleep, and Scanlan reached up to idly wipe a strand of her white hair from her face. It was a peculiar colour – he’d have to ask her about that sometime.

It had been a long time since he had just slept with someone like this. It was comforting and unsettling at the same time, and it caused a whole array of thoughts and plans to shoot through his head at the same time.

He had to seduce her. He had to get rid of her. He had to protect her. He had to help her escape. He had to keep her with him.

He tried to focus on how to go through with his plan from tomorrow on, but he kept being assaulted by thoughts of the gnome in his arms, and eventually he gave up entirely and drifted up to sleep.

Right as he closed his eyes, there was a spark of light that he barely caught. But before he could see that it was the symbol of Sarenrae that was glowing, he had passed out.

[ashaywalker-author]

Natural Instinct (Poe Dameron/Reader Fic)

SUMMARY: Reader is a simple Jakku miner who finds herself in the middle of a First Order assault on Tuanul. Although unaffiliated with the war, she steps in for a Resistance pilot, and has to face the consequences.

CHAPTER WARNINGS: Some strong language, references to death

PAIRING: Poe Dameron/Reader (slow burn)

A/N: There is not NEARLY enough Poe Dameron in the fanfiction world. This fic makes a couple of very minor changes to The Force Awakens (specifically Poe’s capture, interrogation from Kylo Ren, and his escape with Finn) but don’t worry, this isn’t going to be a repeat of the movie’s action. It’s 99.9% original ideas. Please enjoy

Chapter 1 - THE WRONG PLACE AT THE WRONG TIME

Mining in Cratertown had become a kriffing joke. If it hadn’t been, if operations hadn’t become as flighty as the sand, I wouldn’t have had to travel further west on Jakku’s unforgiving wastelands, and I certainly wouldn’t have found myself stuck in the middle of a First Order assault. If I hadn’t been hunched over from dehydration and heat exhaustion, I would have hightailed it immediately once I saw the X-Wing parked a little way up the Kelvin Ravine, on the outskirts of Tuanul. What was it Ergel had said when I had complained of the lack of work while throwing a can of Knockback down my throat?

“Nothing good comes from Tuanul. Force worshippers, Jedi sympathizers. You’d do well to walk a long ways ‘round the Ravine.”

Not that Ergel cared who worshipped what—he was friendly with anyone who could hold their alcohol—but anything that put any of us miners and un-allied Jakku scavengers at risk wasn’t worth the trouble. We wanted nothing to do with the Cold War. Nothing to do with the Resistance, or the First Order. But I hadn’t planned as effectively with my supplies as I had assumed, and so I found myself in Tuanul, the morning before a battalion of stormtroopers decided to pay a visit.

A great majority of the religious villagers had sprung up upon noticing the impending ships, blasters out, ready for a fight. Whatever they were willing to die for, I wanted no part of it. I ran in the opposite direction, dumping off a rucksack filled with gathered goods that ought to pay for my meals for a week. The weight was too much, and I hadn’t acquired a beast or a speeder with which to carry it. Sand billowed around huffing engines as I heard them land behind me, and the clunk of heavy boots against the ship’s ramps had me careening up a small dune. When I heard shouting far too close for comfort, I froze and turned to the source, where I saw the X-Wing’s pilot several meters away. He was running as well, a frantic orange and white droid hot on his heels, rolling small craters into the sand. If the insignias on his bright jumpsuit were at all legitimate, he was Resistance. So why the hell was he running?

I pulled away from it all and continued to move far, far away from the sharp squeal of blaster shots and the distant but obvious void when one by one, Tuanul’s villagers died. The sounds of boots and blasters were already far outweighing the sound of human life. And then the chaos was warped and swallowed within the sound of an explosion. It made the sand around my feet tremble and the heat blow a lasting breath against my back. The X-Wing was nothing more than a heap of hot, smoking metal. It didn’t matter. It was one more Resistance fighter down among an innumerable group of dead, not the first, and certainly not the last. But I still turned back.

The screaming had stopped. The village below the dune was crouching in bated breath around a masked black figure, tall and broad in the shoulders. Even from where I was, next to the remains of the destroyed ship, I felt his power. I felt the tendrils of raw, tainted energy flicking in the air even before I witnessed the blaster shot, still but writhing against an invisible force. I’d never seen anything so unnatural as that. Then there was the pilot, a tremble himself, his blaster arm forced down against his hip and his body frozen mid-step. This was beyond me, completely beyond a simple miner’s paygrade. Nothing good comes from Tuanul. I wouldn’t call what I did next bravery; simply, it was idiocy.

I didn’t have a weapon—not that it would have made a difference—but I still slid down that dune, kicking up clouds of earth, creating enough of a disturbance to capture the masked man’s—if he could be called that—attention. Just the slightest tilt of his mask’s chrome embellishments, and I knew he saw me.

“Leave him alone!” I screamed at the expressionless visage.

There was a beat of silent apprehension, and then every blaster in the area was on me. I resisted the urge to hold out my hands in surrender. Out the corner of my eye I saw the pilot, still unmoving, along with the pale blue bullet streaking the sky. Damn myself to hell.

The masked man in black—who I assumed was Kylo Ren; I was a Jakku miner, but I still heard the important rumors—motioned toward both me and the pilot, and we were drug toward him. I didn’t give the armored soldiers any trouble. I’d dug my grave, but I wasn’t too keen on just diving head-first into it. The pilot drug his sand-caked boots along, not really fighting, but not too eager either.

When we were both forced to our knees in front of Ren, I didn’t look at the pilot. Instead, I stared straight up the long legs of the First Order’s most deadly weapon. He was horrifyingly large; broad shoulders, towering, the air around him crackling so much that I couldn’t find it in me to pull enough breath into my lungs. Then he stooped, mask inches from my nose. He tilted his head back and forth between the two of us, maybe considering the most entertaining form of murder. I was such a kriffing idiot.

“Do you talk first or do I talk first?”

Okay, scratch that. I wasn’t quite up to par with the idiocy the Resistance pilot showed. I considered smacking him, but I could barely move for fear.

“The old man gave it to you.” Ren said, his deep voice laced with the barest metallic echo.

“It’s just very hard to understand you with all the…” the pilot waved his hands, “apparatus.”

“Search him.”

The pilot was hauled back up and patted down. I stayed put, preferring to stare down at the grains of Jakku’s earth, wishing I had kept running. Shouting did nothing. What did I change? Nothing.

“Nothing sir.” One of the troopers said.

“Put him on board.”

Ren turned his masked face down to me, tilting it softly.

“Put them both on board.”

Despite being on our best behavior—or, at least, decent behavior on the pilot’s part—we were pushed and pulled down hallways of a First Order Battlecruiser. Kylo Ren had disappeared on his own transport ship after ordering the murder of every person in Tuanul. I hadn’t known anyone, not specifically, besides the dark-haired woman who had offered me water when I stumbled into the village. Regardless, I felt like a Sarlacc had wormed its way into my stomach and was slowly eating me from the inside-out. I was terrified on the inside, so much so that I felt blank on the outside. I went everywhere I was ordered without a second thought. It was all I could think of to survive.

“I’m Poe.”

It took several seconds for the pilot’s greeting to get through to whatever part of my brain was still functioning. I turned my face to him, blinking a few times. He looked… okay, meaning he didn’t look like he was walking to an execution. In fact, his eyes were bright. When I didn’t respond at first, he looked around the bridge we walked through, as if taking the place in with genuine curiosity and not indominable fear.

The stormtrooper guiding me pushed me more roughly when my steps slowed a tad. His blaster poked against the small of my back, a simple but effective reminder.

“I’m… (Y/N).”

Poe nodded, smiled, and that was that.

Finally, we were dumped into a cell. I was a bit surprised that they would keep us together; it felt to me that isolation typically came with true imprisonment, but I had never actually been in this type of trouble, so what would I know? Our supposed cell also wasn’t what I would picture. It was dark, yes, and heavily unfurnished. The ducting lining and twisting the ceiling was uncovered, and the floor was unheated and void of any rug or padding. Bright red lights popped from each corner of the room, and I knew immediately that they were cameras. Off to the far-left corner was a chilly-looking chrome toilet, and I balked at the idea of having to relieve myself in front of Poe and whoever was manning the surveillance cameras. Luckily there wasn’t much in my system to get rid of. The last thing I noticed was the single bed in the far-right corner, which was rather more like a built-in shelf with a thin, foam covering.

I stood in the middle of the room for a while, the door the stormtroopers left through having long since merged with the rest of the wall, barely a groove to show its existence.

“You’d better rest while they let you.” Poe said.

He sat on the edge of the bed, pulling his boots off his feet. What was with this man?

“Do you get captured and imprisoned a lot?” I asked, unable to keep the snark from my tone.

He looked up with his broad eyebrows raised, a bit surprised I spoke up the way I did. My nerves were making me testy. I wasn’t usually the type for confrontation, but I was pissed at myself, and scared shitless. Anger seemed the safer option at this point. He considered me a moment and I considered him back, taking a moment to really see the person I stepped out of my relative safety for; messy brown-black curls, round eyes, a strong, square chin free of stubble. What I noticed most of all was how soft he looked. Or maybe soft wasn’t the right word. Whatever it was, it was nothing you found on Jakku. Everyone on the desert planet was made of some sort of stone, the sand constantly etching away at their surfaces. Frowning and exhausted was the natural state of being on Jakku; hard-eyes and an angry, stubborn resilience came with weathering the planet for many years. For someone who fought in a war, Poe looked decidedly less cauterized than anyone else I had ever met.

“This is actually my first time,” Poe said, gesturing to the small, square room we found ourselves in.

“Well you seem to know the ropes.”

“The supposed ropes you get with the First Order are pretty damn short. I’ve been dealing with these assholes for a while now.”

I truly hoped the cameras were not equipped with sound as well.

“Well then what do we do?” I asked.

He looked up at me with those frustratingly bright eyes and smiled. It was an actual smile too, one with teeth. That’s another thing you don’t see on Jakku much.

“You rest, (Y/N),” he said, patting the empty spot on the bed. “Within the next thirty minutes or so some stormtroopers are going to burst in here and try to torture information out of me. I’m not going to give it to them.”

“Then what happens?” I said, deciding not to sit quite yet.

“That’s a good question.” Poe said, cracking his neck. “I’m sorry, you kinda throw a wrench in the typical torture scheme. I don’t know what they intend to do with you.”

I tried not to panic, and I thought I was doing a pretty good job of it. But somehow Poe must have seen something of the new and realized fear that encapsulated me, because he reached out and grabbed my hand. I started at the contact. He had taken his gloves off at some point, so it was just skin, calloused and warm.

“Try not to worry,” he said, and I almost laughed out loud. “You don’t know anything. Do you have an allegiance?”

“No,” I insisted, glancing once at the nearest camera. “I was searching for places to mine outside of Cratertown. I only went to Tuanul because I needed water and some food and rest.”

“They will see your stepping in for me as a pledge to the Resistance. When they question you, you need to insist upon your neutrality. Although its likely they will force you to pledge to the Order instead.”

There was nothing accusatory in his voice or gaze, as if he would understand if I chose to become loyal to the First Order to survive. I would have thought he would urge me to deny the First Order, even if it meant death. Looking at him, I was sure that’s what he would do.

“Thank you, by the way,” he said, giving the knuckles of my hand the briefest swipe with his thumb. It felt nice. I was amazed that I could feel even a grain of safety when I had no idea whether I would be dead by morning or not. “That was brave of you, stepping forward.”

“It wasn’t bravery. It was stupidity.”

A soft chuckle, and he released my hand. “You’d be shocked how often those two traits go together.”

Then there was a pause. Something in the way he looked off took a small bite from his buoyant spirit.

“Can I ask why you did it?” he said.

I didn’t answer. I don’t know for how long it was silent, but somewhere in that void between his question and my answer the door to the holding cell slid open, and as Poe had predicted, stormtroopers filed in.

“That’s my cue.” Poe said, standing and brushing down his flight-suit. He left his boots at the side of the bed. “See you later, (Y/N).”

Once again, his shoulders were roughly taken, and with them he was pushed out and through the doorway. Not one word was said to me, and in a moment I was alone, standing in the same spot I had planted myself on upon entry.

“See you.”

[homogrimoire-archive]

The Remnant Branches

CH. 2 - Vile Toxic Intent

Part 3: Tyrian "Helping Children" Callows

Tyrian sees that he has been transported into another world, and makes the best of the situation.

“Hey Z, who’s this nutcase?” Dito asked.

“Don’t know. He doesn’t seem so bad though.” she shrugged as an arm flew into the air. Dito stared at it in amazement as rusted wires and rancid fluids spurted out of it.

“Yeah, fun fact! People don’t have tails. I say we get your sword and go. He’s giving me the heebie-jeebies.” Cent shuddered.

“Hold on, I think he could be useful. I’m getting tired of having to do all the killing around here, and he seems like he likes killing.”

“I agree with Lady Zero. The more people we have, the less energy she wastes by killing soldiers and monsters, and the more energy she can use to kill her sisters.”

“It’s settled then. Hey, scorpion tail! You good now?” Zero shouted as she walked towards him. He let out a huff as he drove in the sword one last time.

“I’m, good now.” he huffed. “I’m very good now!” He let out a loud cackle into the sky.

“You done? I don’t have all day.” She was starting to get annoyed.

“Yes. I’m much better now.” He said as he handed the sword back to her.

“Good. Let’s cut to the chase. I’m on my way to kill my sisters. They call themselves goddesses, so why don't you join me and help me kill them in the name of your goddess?” she offered. She saw him jump at the opportunity, then hesitate for a moment.

“Suuure,” he began, “but on one condition! You tell me about magic! One of my objectives is to learn about magic, so help me with that, and I’ll help you out. Deal?”

“Ugh. Deal.” Zero replied. “Now hurry up. I’m not going to sit around and baby you. We’ve got Intoners to kill.”

-

“Zero, why are we going after One first? Wouldn’t it be better to start with a weaker Intoner?” the young dragon asked.

“Never thought I’d agree with the big baby, but are you sure it’s best to go after One first?” Dito asked.

“Yeah. I’m sure. Once she’s out of the way, taking down the rest of them will be a piece of cake.” She explained. “Would you rather things get easier, or harder as we go?”

“I usually prefer it when its hard, but I suppose tha t this isn’t one of those times. But if you’d like, we could have a hard time right now.” Octa winked at Zero as she decapitated a man.

“I don’t know, does it seem like a good time Octa?” she said as a man fell to his knees to beg for mercy. His pleas fell on deaf ears.

“Hmm, that’s not a no.” he beamed.

“Ugh, why can’t you guys just focus on killing, like him?” she berated as she referred to Tyrian tearing through a group of soldiers in the distance. His laughter was somewhat annoying after a while, but at least he killed, killed, and killed some more.

“Cause he’s literally insane, Z. The guy voluntarily follows a self-proclaimed goddess.” Dito said, exasperated.

“That, and frankly I just don’t trust him. Heh, I mean, I have impeccable judgement, so if I don’t trust him, he just shouldn’t be trusted.” Cent reasoned.

“I don’t know. I think he’s alright. He has a tail, like me! Hey Zero, watch this!” Mikhail shouted, and proceeded to slice a horde of monsters with the tip of his tail. “Did you see Zero? Did you see? I learned that from watching him.”

“He’s not that annoying, he’s a good influence on Mikhail, and he’s good at killing. Can't say all that that about the rest of you, can I? Hey, dummy, go and get some more pointers from him.” she barked at him.

“Yes Zero!” the dragon said happily as he flew to study the tailed murderer.

“But you can say we have an amazing time fucking.” Octa stated.

“... Fine. You guys are good for sex, I guess.” Zero admitted. “Goddamnit, now I’m horny.We’re fucking right now. I don’t give a damn where we are.”

“I guess we can help with that.” Dito sneered.

“Oh ho ho! you know you can count me in anytime, my lady!” Octa exclaimed excitedly.

“I guess I’ll have to join in then. Someone with my unparalleled skills simply needs to be there. But uh, shouldn't we take care of the soldiers first?” Cent asked.

“Mmm, I think they’ll be busy.” She said as they paused to look at the reinforcements heading towards Tyrian. “Hey, hold on, where’s Decadus?”

“Hell if I know.” Cent shrugged.

“I say we start without him.” Octa urged.

“Knowing that freak, he’s probably trying to get stabbed by the new freak in town.” Dito joked, looking at the bloodbath behind them as he began to take off his shirt. “Wait, holy shit. He actually is.” Among the soldiers, Dito could just make out the huge freak.

“You better be fucking joking.” She sighed. She went to look in the distance to see that Decadus was indeed among the soldiers. “Fuck it. If he dies, he dies. That’s on him.” At least the dragon was getting better at killing.

“I knew he was a freak, but damn, he really is on a whole other level of freak.” Dito remarked.

“Fun fact, did you know that a scorpion’s poison can kill a grown man in mere hours, even a big guy like Decadus? Food for thought.” Cent commented.

“Can you two shut up so we can start fucking already?” she demanded to know. While Octa was already undressed and having fun, the other two were barely removing their underwear. Despite missing a man, it was a good time, perhaps even better than usual. All they knew was they they would have to try fucking in the middle of battle more often.

-

“Hey! Hey mister! I’m here! I’m here so I can learn to get better at fighting!” Mikhail exclaimed as he flew closer.

“Oh how wonderful, a pupil!” he yelled joyously as he slashed the chest of one man, the stomach of another, and poisoned a third. However, that fact that he was stabbed in his throat meant he would die from the wound before the poison. “Give me a ride, would you?” he said as he jumped onto Mikhail’s back. “Thank you.”

“Are you gonna give me some pointers? I don’t really like killing, but I’ll do it if it makes Zero’s life easier.” Mikhail explained.

“Well that won’t do. If you don’t like killing, then you shouldn’t be killing. I guess I’ll be taking my leave then.” Tyrian said, readying to jump back into the fray.

“No, wait, wait! I like killing! I like killing if Zero they’re Zero’s enemies! I love killing them! Grr! Kill!” he growled.

“Alright. Good enough. The trick to being a good killer is to love killing. You have to love all the pain and death and suffering you’re creating!” Tyrian explained to the youngling. “Torch those fools below us, would you?” The dragon followed the order, incinerating the many soldiers and monsters.

“Aah, hear that? Smell that? See that? If you wanna help your friend, wanna be a good killer, love that.”

“But couldn’t we have just talked to them instead? I’m sure we could have solved things peacefully.” Mikhail said somewhat sadly. Tyrian laughed at the suggestion.

“Talk? To your enemy? How are you even still alive? Listen kid, why don’t you land down there real quick and talk to them.”

“Really? You’ll let me try to talk to them? Zero never lets me try that.”

“Sure. Gooo right ahead. See what happens.” Tyrian cackled sinisterly as the naive dragon descended.

“Umm, hello. I― ow, stop that!” he said as soldiers stabbed at his thick scales with their puny weaponry. “Hey, I just want to talk with you. Ow, stop that! That kinda hurts!” Mikhail whined.

“Why isn’t it even slowing down?!” One soldier demanded to know.

“Stab it enough and it’ll die eventually!” another responded.

“Kill the traitor intoner’s dragon! Filthy beast!” insulted a man stabbing at the dragon’s feet.

“Hey, that’s not nice! Ow. Listen, I just wanna talk to you! We can solve this peacefully! Ow!”

“Kill, kill, kill!”

“Die, die, die!”

“Perish, perish, perish!”

“Shut up and listen to me!” Mikhail roared, flapping his wings angrily. The powerful gust sent the men flying back.

“Attack!” screamed the soldiers as they rushed back towards the dragon.

“They’re not going to listen, are they?” Mikhail asked himself, though he knew the answer. Tyrian laughed in response.

“See? See why I like killing? You get to rid the world of people who don’t listen to reason! You get to make them suffer! Now, if you want some real pointers, treat your whole body as a weapon, because it is! Crush them! Burn them! Poison them! Bite their throats out! Kill them!” Tyrian giggled maniacally as he jumped back down to spill even more blood. “Killl, alll yourr enemies! And loooove it!”

Soldier upon soldier, monster upon monster. The bodies piled high. Blood was freed from its prison and flowed as it pleased. Smoke bellowed out from the newborn pyre. A song without the power of a flower could be heard. And yet the enemies still ran towards the visage of death. Soon, the last wave arrived. It was composed of humans enhanced by magic, and monsters made of magic. It was a sight that would bring hope to the followers of the Intoner sisters. It would soon become a sight that would inspire despair in them. Only a single man lay alive amongst the order of slaughter.

“Ooh, looks like someone’s still hanging on.” Tyrian cooed.

“Nngh, so, much, pain.” he moaned.

“Huh? Wait! That’s Decadus! Waahhh! I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Mikhail profusely apologized as he headed towards the suffering disciple.

“So much, delectable pain, uhmmn…” he groaned.

“You know, you’re not supposed to like it.” Tyrian told him.

“Hurry, put him on my back! We’ll take him back to Zero!” Mikhail told Tyrian.

“I say we just put him out of his misery.”

“Nghnn, to deny me the suffering of life… so cruel.” he moaned again.

Tyrian was taken aback by the disciple’s desire to suffer. It was so illogical to him. It went against everything he knew. People hated to suffer, and feared death, which is why he loved to make them suffer and die. But this guy, it didn’t matter. Whether or not he was suffering, he was getting what he wanted. There wasn’t a way he could truly hurt. It was plain wrong to Tyrian, disgusting even, and he didn’t know how to react to it. So he just did what the dragon asked of him and they made their way towards Zero.

“Don’t worry Decadus! Zero will fix you up!”

“Must she?” he complained.

“Is he alright?” Tyrian asked.

“What? Is he alright? Look at him! Poisoned, burned, broken bones probably, and cuts everywhere! Of course he isn’t alright!” Mikahil stated.

“No, is he alright, like, in the head? Cause, uhh...” Tyrian looked back at the suffering man who enjoyed suffering, and therefore wasn’t really suffering in his eyes.

“Well, probably not. I mean, it was preeeetty crazy back there, so I’m sure he hit his head a few times. Just hang in there Dacadus, we’ll be there soon!”

“Please, nngh, take your time.” he lewdly groaned again. To the joy of Mikhail, they found Zero and the other disciples soon. They were resting peacefully.

“Zeroooooo! Zeroooooooooo!” he yelled as he neared them. Being in the frantic state he was in, he loudly crashed into a nearby rock face. Tyrian managed to jump off in time. Decadus, however… “Waaahhhhh! I’m sorry! I’m sorry again!”

“Can’t ever have a goddam peaceful fucking moment can I?” she sighed. “What!?” she turned to look at a very beat up Decadus, moaning in pleasurable pain. “Oh fucking fuck! Just fucking die next time, god!”

“Guuhhh. So cruel...”

“Eew look! The bone is sticking out!” Dito exclaimed as he giddily ran towards the body. “Ohh, gross!! You can see the bone marrow! And look at this vein! God that’s disgusting! Man this cut goes deeeep! Holy shit, this burn!” he gasped with excitement, like a kid getting free candy.

“The big guy, is there something wrong with him, or…” Tyrian wasn’t sure how else to describe it, so he just motioned vaguely with his hands.

“I ask myself that everyday. Every. Single. Fucking. Day. Alright, out of the way shorty.” She pushed Dito out of the way as he was poking at a wound with a stick.

“Hey!” Dito shouted. Zero ignored his cry.

“Pay attention scorpion. You wanted magic, here it is.”

She began to vocalize ever so softly, and began a dance. Her lower body remained stationary as her upper body danced odd movements. A glow began to envelop his body as the flower in her eye began to glow. Soon, her movements quickened and her voice became louder. The glow became so intense it was blinding. When the glow faded, and the song and dance stopped, and a healed Decadus was what they saw.

“Thank you, Lady Zero...” he said rather sadly. She lifted a leg, and kicked him in the dick, sending him flying into the wall of rock. The rest of the guys looked in horror, clutching their own dick through their clothing in fear.

“Fucking do that again! I fucking dare you! Goddamn disciple...” she grumbled.

“Understood, ghhhnn, Lady Zero.” he cried. He looked like a kicked puppy that liked being kicked.

“I didn’t get to look at the poison wound on his back...” Dito lamented.

“At least we still have our dicks in one piece.” Tyrian said as he looked at Decadus in horror.

[unabashedrebel]

Echoes of Heartbreak

{Continuation from this}

Days began to blend together in this new form of hell he had been tossed in. When lucid Kirollis was able to surmise the dire nature of his situation. A Legion experiment aimed to place heroes into a docile state, oddly enough with pleasant memories. Though that couldn’t be all, he knew that. The best guess lending to his theory was the unsettling feeling of his veins smoldering beneath the skin. Lucidity however was few and far between. Only snippits of the dreary ship came into his restricted view. Coupled with the voices of the damned as they continually taunted their victims.

Most days, however, the rogue found himself lost in the dream. How could he turn it down? It was everything he ever wanted, even if it was a lie. Every fiber of his being wished it to be true. It dulled the senses, clouded the mind, to the point where he willingly gave himself to it. Absorbed every second he would get with the echo of his late wife. Nothing else mattered, not as long as he had her. The only thing that pulled him back from the brink of insanity was painful memories. Ones he remembered no matter how many substances they pumped into him. Whether it was a misstep in his mind, or a call to action, he didn’t know nor care. He only wanted to go back to the fantasy, even if he knew he couldn’t. Perhaps that was the most painful part.

With each abrupt jerk back to reality he would go back into attack mode. Barking to his captors about all the ways he was going to kill them, with the passage of time those methods only becoming more bizarre. But threats were never the point for him. They were made to distract the demonic jailers.

For what seemed liked weeks the rogue had been working his way out of the restraints. They were crude by design, and nothing he would use to cage champions. A simple screw tethered the clamp around his wrist. With an uncomfortable bend and a well of determination Kirollis turned that screw each time he was ripped back from the dream.

Clink….

The screw finally gave way to the clamps. With deft hands and slow movements Kirollis slid that hand from its restraints. No threats were uttered, nor was attention anything he was seeking. His hope was that the demons stuck to whatever they were busy with. He needed his line of sight back, knowing full well he wouldn’t be prepared if caught and any escape attempt would only lead to tighter security.

“You really want to leave?” A familiar voice said. Soon the sight of her golden curls and warm smile hovered, staring down at him. A delicate, ghostly hand came to cup his cheek. “Do you remember the last time you left me? What happened?”

The rogue cringed at the voice of his great love, Nelah. “I have to..” Kirollis begrudgingly replied. Her words cutting deeper than any knife as the knot in his throat began to swell. The specter had only momentarily halted his intentions as his free hand to work on the collar that kept his head in place. With full mobility now the restraint easily came undone.

“Are you awake again, funnyman?” The Felguard barked. “Are you losing your spirit? No threats today?” Though as the creature turned he was greeted with a full view of the duelist sitting upright working on the clamps on his feet. With a roar the demon reached for the closest weapon to him, and unfortunately for the rogue it was a rather large axe.

Clink….

The final clamp tethering the rogue to the table was undone, and without a second to spare. As the Guard rushed with his weapon cocked far overhead, Kirollis rolled from the gurney to the floor. While normally the duelist was quick with his reflexes, this time was different. Instead he fell face first from the table, unable to catch himself on the floor below. Rolling further with a groan he just barely evaded the axe that crashed into the table, cleaving it in two.

“Gonna try and make good on them.” The rogue replied in a groggy voice to the Felguards earlier comments. Pushing himself from the ground and back to his feet for the first time Kirollis would instantly recognize the sluggishness in his movements. How long have I been here? Was the only question he could afford to ask himself. The room began to spin, as the feeling of lightheadedness continued to weigh on him.

The Guard wasted no time closing the small gap to attack once more. Kirollis himself trying to focus long enough to dodge, though it was without any of his usual flare or strategic planning. The duelist had nothing but survival instinct to rely on, but the weapon was slow and he was quick. With another swipe horizontally Kirollis would duck into a squat before his leg gave out on him, forcing him down to the ground.

The Guard laughed at the rogues misfortune. Aiming to capitalize on the downed opposition, the demon drew his axe back on the overswing. Using the bladeless end of it’s weapon like a bat to swat the rogue to a far off wall. Kirollis flung like a rag doll into gurneys set up along the edges of the room.

With a groan Kirollis tried to get himself up. But as the demon approached any notion of preparing himself for a fight was left up in the air. With a heaved breath he would look to the side as the guard continued to close the gap. A collection of green vials had been knocked over as the rogue collided with a patient recently prepped.

The guard came up quickly, reaching down and lifting Kirollis by the throat. One arm flailed rapidly before ultimately settling on the forearm of the demon. His legs kicked as his airway blocked off and every breath became a fight. Finally with the distance closed and the fight at it’s climax, Kirollis would cock his arm back before sending four of those vials into the Felguards neck. Releasing the rogue and stumbling back as it grasped at the afflicted area, finally falling back to rest motionlessly on the ground.

Kirollis grasped at his own throat as he collapsed down to the floor. Coughs came in bunches as he tried to stabilize his breathing. “Yeah, I bet that feels great.” He said with a stare in the Felguards direction.

Shaky hands would reach up to grasp at the table next to him. Using it to steady himself long enough to get to his feet. With slow movements the rogue would run his hand against the wall as he made his way towards the exit.

“Why do you care what happens to them?” The voice once again halted Kirollis as his heart was once again assaulted by the one person who always had it.

“Why is it that every time you pick them over me? Why can’t we be together anymore, Kirollis?”

“That’s not true…” The rogue said pushing past the ghost of a memory.

“You left me to die.”

“I-...”

“I’d still be alive if I never met you. I wouldn’t have been a casualty in your war against your parents. Was it worth it, Kiro? You took everything from me. Everything! You call that love!? And here you are. Once again ready to leave me like all the rest.”

She continued to haunt him as he made his way down the dimly lit hallway. As soon as he passed one projection another would spawn. All of his insecurities, all of his fears, everything he’d assumed about what happened continued to stream out of the visage of Nelah. The one voice he couldn’t justify himself to.

“I can’t change the past… I’ve tried…”

“You can change the present. Just give up. Let go of it all. Do what you set out to do all those years ago.”

“I can’t do that either… You know that. You want me to do the same thing I did to you to our kid? Just leave her alone? I can’t do that again. I won’t do that again. You can’t be Nelah..” he choked out as the tears began to well. “You look like her. You sound like her. But you’ll never be her.”

“Whatever you say, Ace. You can try and leave all you want, I’m not going anywhere.”

[imcomedic-sans]

What would you do

The following is a drabble between both my muses: Babyteeth and Twitch

Babyteeth was adjusting a log into the fire place when he arrived. The skeleton had become less twitchy as of late, but his presence hardly seemed any less ominous. He was seated right on top of the dinning table, hands propping himself on either side as he had a leg draped over the other in a lazy manner. He stared at his alt's back with an expression of airy amusement, and very faintly, his signature, clacking chuckling could be heard.

“you rang..?”

Babyteeth had already sensed him coming in. The voice didn't startle him even if he had his back to him, and he proceeded striking a match to set the pieces of newspaper tucked under the wood on fire. Once it was hot enough, the wood would catch fire itself.

“...i have a question for you.” His sockets were fixed on the growing flames, and as they began licking at the logs, he stood. Twitch had removed himself from the table when Babyteeth turned, his hands dug into his pockets and body leaning to one side as if Twitch were trying to look around him at the flames. Except, he wasn't. A singular, dark red eye was pointed toward the other skeleton. The fire behind Babyteeth obscured the small shack into shadows, yet Twitch seemed to carry one all on his own. The orange glow did not touch him. For a moment, all Babyteeth could see was the one eye, and fighting back a shiver he made his way to the couch.

“.....” Twitch straightened slowly, following him with his gaze. “...well? aren't you going to ask?”

It was strange not hearing that stutter anymore. It made Babyteeth uneasy; another reminder of who the other was. Or... used to be. Babyteeth took a seat.

“...it's a delicate question.” He forced himself to look at his alternate. Meeting his gaze levelly. “and i'm only going to ask if you're going to be okay with it. and, even afterward, if you don't want to answer... i understand.”

The reassurance did little to appease Twitch... The single pupil still remained, and his sockets narrowed. Regarding Babyteeth silently. He had a suspicion to what his question could be relating to, and Twitch didn't want to talk about it.

Withdrawing a hand from one pocket, soft clicking noises are sounded as Twitch absently played with the toy given to him by Reset. Thoughtful. The silence was long and stretched between them, but the antsy skeleton eventually moves. He makes his way back to the table and, hopping on top of it, sits crossed legged on its surface. Babyteeth wondered if there was a specific reason for that or if he just wanted to be a general nuisance and not use a chair. Either way, he didn't look at Babyteeth and kept his gaze on the cube.

“...ask away.”

He almost didn't want to. But Babyteeth had called him here. It was too late to back out now, and taking in a deep breath, he forced the words out.

“why didn't you do it?”

Twitch glances over to him.

“why didn't you do it..?” Babyteeth repeated. Resolved. “what stopped you?”

The blue-jacket wearing skeleton watched the other evenly. Searchingly. Waiting for the slightest motion of discomfort or threat. And as if he were stepping on thin ice that cracked dangerously, he spoke with caution. “when edgy... your edgy... when you found him and he was... he was...”

It didn't matter. What confidence he boosted up had failed him as he faltered. It felt like his words had turned to stone. They sank back down his throat. He felt Twitch's narrowed gaze as intensely as the flames in the fireplace, he wasn't able to keep his focus on him anymore. He had to look away.

But Twitch, yet again, removed himself from the table to make his way to him. He stopped across the coffee table from him and laid his hands on top of it, and- while Babyteeth still felt the intensity of the gaze- when he glanced up he saw Twitch was grinning at him, visage one of laid back appeal.

“go on.” He encouraged. “spit it out.”

Red eyes met darker ones, and for the first time, Babyteeth actually looked at Twitch. Not just glance at him, not just look over him, but at him. He never wanted to focus on him. Never wanted to acknowledge that they were similar in any way and that he really was just a 'what if'. A path his life could of taken or maybe even still take.

Babyteeth was afraid of Twitch. But not in the same way others were. He was afraid of what he represented. Of what he himself had the potential of doing, if just the right circumstances fell into place. He was reminded of his hatred. His temptation to kill. To screw the risks and get rid of the problems permanently.

To just... give up.

Very slowly... Babyteeth took in a deep breath. He didn't avert his gaze this time. He made himself look back at him, not just through him. And, placing a hand to his chest, he answered.

“...i would've done anything.” His hand tightened on his shirt. That's right. Anything. That was just the kind of impulsive reaction he'd give. “i would've tried anything to save him.”

He lowered his gaze. Faintly, he could feel his soul beat beneath the material.

“...i would've given anything.”

The grin was still there on Twitch's visage. Yet, somehow, it's absence was signified as if it wasn't. Babyteeth couldn't see the dark pupil anymore, but he knew Twitch was looking at him.

Slowly, the other skeleton pulled away. His hands went into the pockets of a jacket that didn't truly belong to him.

“....paps.”

It was all Twitch would say before he turned away. He took only several steps, however, before he paused.

“...you're right.” He went on. “i was going to do it. i was willing to risk anything.”

He cocks his head slightly to the side. The pupil there once more. “anything. if his soul was damaged... a whole one could fix it... right?”

“...but paps stopped me. i was so close to going through with it. but either by chance or because he found out, he put a stop to it. he begged me not to do it. and you know what he said to me?” Twitch turned fully to him now. “'i can't lose you, too', he said.”

A silence fell between them before Twitch would say anything else. He looked even smaller within the shadows, and for a moment, he didn't look like a sickeningly, creepy threat ready to strike. He looked... vulnerable.

“i didn't want to die.” He went on. “i didn't want to be lost in the process. i just... had to try. but after that..? heh... i had to give it up.”

Babyteeth didn't have a stomach. But if he did, he would have felt it sank. If he had skin, his arms would have been prickling with goosebumps. The reality of the answer... it hit him hard. Like a rolled up punch. And it hit him because he knew, knew, he would have been close to doing the same thing. And it was because of that he had to ask his next question.

“...did you ever regret it?”

Twitch gave a shrug, absently fiddling with the cube. “almost everyday. recently, though..? not so much.”

“only two things could of happened,” he continued. “either it would have failed, and we'd both be damaged. then i'd be leaving both our brothers to deal with the repercussions. or, it would have worked. edgy would be fine. but guess who'd be the one broken?

“....” Slowly. Twitch lowered his hands. “...edgy wouldn't be able to live with that. i wouldn't want to put him through that. our roles would have been reversed...”

“and, even then... would edgy be the same? souls are complicated things. if i had given him my entire soul and his body didn't reject it, would he still be himself or retain my memories and feelings? i could of possibly end up a lifeless husk if my soul fused with his and mended it rather than erase or replace it, i suppose.”

“but on top of dealing with me being gone, one way or another, edgy would still have everything else he'd need to cope with, too.” Twitch stopped speaking abruptly. His hands were lifted once more and his hands were squeezing the cube tightly between them. For awhile now, his gaze had grown distant and Babyteeth was almost convinced he had lost him now. He didn't dare say a word lest he disrupt this spell and anger him.

It didn't matter. Twitch's eyes flicked back to him and Babyteeth nearly jumped, startled. Twitch stared at him long and hard for a few solid seconds before his visage suddenly relaxed to another one of his grins. The skeleton chuckling.

It was short lived, though. It died quickly, and while he couldn't frown, it was reflected in his sockets. “...i don't know what that would of done to him. i don't want to think about it. he's gone.”

An abrupt laugh bursts out of him and Twitch bites the rest of it back, planting a knuckle between his teeth and sucking in air. He seethes as if he's in pain, visage contorted, but it soon twists as more laughter bubbles out from him. Before it could rise into a crescendo, however, he takes in a very sharp, deep breath. Holds it. Then... releases it slowly.

“...he's gone.” He repeated. Matter of fact. “and... it's probably better that way. in the end...”

Even so. Twitch looked far from happy about it. He seemed to reflect on this for awhile before he turned furrowed brows on Bbt.

“so why do you ask?” He said, bitterly. “your edgy is fine. he's not in need of any souls. why bring this up?”

“i'm... i'm sorry...” Babyteeth glanced away. “i'm just... trying to understand. i guess...

“...my dad didn't have a soul. but he was saved. your- reset. he was shattered, too, and...” He drifted off.

“hm...” Twitch flips his cube around. “so what of it? i hope you're not implying the same could of happened to my edgy. i've already had to deal with that roller coaster and it's a never ending ride, i don't need the reminder.”

“i- no... no. i think.... whatever happened, you did the best choice. the best choice.”

Twitch paused, and looked at him oddly as Babyteeth rose from the couch.

“there was no wrong or right in your situation,” Babyteeth continued. “that's just... not fair to call it either one. you did what you had to. what you felt you had to. there was little choice given. it's like asking to jump in a pool of sharks or a pool of lava. to pick which person to save out of two even though you care about them both deeply. any of the results would suck, to put it lightly...

“you only did what you had to.”

“....” Silence. Twitch didn't respond for a long while. Nor did he have his gaze on him. At length, he turned and started heading for the door.

“if you're asking because of that weed,” he grumbled, “talk to reset. he would know better than i would.”

Babyteeth was taken aback. “w-wait, how did you..?!”

But Twitch had already vanished.