#( ch: just a bit holey. )

[castleinthemist]

ok. Going to try and iron out some thoughts and current questions in my mind about the story for seabed so far (Just started ch.5):

I wrote up a bunch of stuff but it really wasn't making much sense so to summerise -

Narasaki def knows more than she lets on, yet through her own narration via the tips and the main story she herself isn't sure what is occuring with sachiko or what even drives the events around her.

The biggest question that is what the game feels like it is leading me to ask is "when" exactly takako's perspective takes place. Things are not lining up in a chronological way that is in tandem to what characters are saying. It's obvious the mansion and the sanatorium is the same building. At present it is either missing a wing or takako really is in the far past and there's some fuckery going on that has caused sachiko and takako to know each other...?? This feels a bit like a stretch though...

Them not existing in the same time feels like it kinda falls apart a bit since...well other people know them so...we have sachiko's holey memory and takako's more clearer one yet there is something going with her that hasn't really been revealed at all. Idk...this might just be a very good red herring and i do lean more into the fact it's likely it is

ALso like nanae kinda...did she drug sachiko's drink? like what was going on there...there was def like someone else around too who was it. who. there's such a small selection of people it could be but nothing is clear enought to even guess.

I think because there is a huge void about what caused takako's death and what actually happened after that with sachiko is just this big empty mysterious section of the game that might actually be a clue for what's going on at all...

there's some kinda tie with the clinic, the mansion, the way things disappear and re-appear in those places and through time and such that's there's either something supernatural or sci-fi going on and i don't feel the latter would be very enjoyable but the former is kinda already teased about (ghost stories!) but idk....i don't think i'd be satisfied with either of those...

[zenami-pls]

currently: too hungry for bnk content but too dumb to make one myself

[soundsofwinter]

one stop shop

@susanbonethugsnharmony

This was a busy time of year for the shop. The heat of summer meant people were going outside, holding festivals and picnics and other entertainment events where they could use some jokes and gags to keep things lively. Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes had become a staple for some when they came through Diagon Alley, and ever since the grand reopening, George had made an effort to create an Item of the Month, a new piece of merchandise that he would develop to keep his ideas fresh and his mind working. 

It was a much needed change of pace for him compared to where he once had been. The shop was thriving, he was an animated chatterbox again, and his laughs were more frequent and genuine. 

He had been sifting through the crowd, greeting most anyone that he saw and especially encouraging the students to buy loads of merchandise that they could use to liven up their school experience. Neville had even gotten the courage to approach George not too long ago, kindly requesting that he at least not encourage the students to buy items that would explode. Apparently there had been an incident in Herbology where the popping sound had irritated one of the plants. Someone had nearly lost a finger. But just nearly. So there was no real damage done. 

George recognized one of the customers browsing, greeting her enthusiastically, “Yo, Bones. Anything that I can help you with? Love potions, maybe? Wait. Nah, you wouldn’t be the type. Some Sunny Spells would be more your style, right?” 

[official-weasley]

The Irreplaceable Charlie Weasley: Pt. 8, Ch. 10

PART 8: WHERE IT ALL ENDS Chapter 10 - Oblivious Fleur

Charlie

“Will...you...let...go!” I said through my teeth, staring at the Common Welsh Green. The bag, he was clutching with his teeth and I with my hands, was about to rip.

“Stop being so stubborn and release the bag!” I pulled it towards me, but the Dragon wouldn't let go. “You know there's no more meat in it?” I raise an eyebrow at him but he didn't care.

“I will bring you an extra snack before I go if you don't destroy my bag!” I sang at Eero, giving him one final chance. I felt his jaw soften a little bit but he was still holding on to it.

“Eero, love, I don't have time to play with you, you have to understand.” I said softly and knew it was a mistake as he pulled the bag towards himself again, almost making my feet lose contact with the ground.

“I'll be back soon enough, c'mon.” I pleaded and tried hard not to laugh at the playfulness in Eero's posture. He was enjoying this as much as I was.

I loved my job and every single Dragon, big or small, in the Sanctuary. But there was no one as playful and as tamed as Eero and I have to admit that sometimes I visited him just so we could bicker as we did right now. It was my favorite pass time and it reminded me, every time, how lucky I was to work here.

“Charlie!” Eero looked up at the voice and for a split second forgot that he was supposed to take the bag away from me. Me knowing full well who the voice belonged to, I seized the opportunity and snatched it from him.

“Ha! Got you!” I stuck my tongue out at him and moved a few steps backward, just in case he would not be happy about it.

If he could, I knew he would roll his eyes at me but instead he laid on the ground, smoke coming through his nostrils in admittance of his defeat.

“What is it, Andrei?” I turned around and saw him standing by a boulder looking amused.

“It's time. Your Portkey is ready! You'll be late!” He said.

“Bloody hell, is it that time already?” I rolled up my sleeve and looked at my watch. My eyes widened. “I am so late!” Andrei nodded at my realization. Without saying another word I ran down the path, straight to my cottage. I opened the door, grabbed the bag I prepared the previous night, and was on my way to the front gate.

Andrei was waiting for me there, a mocking grin on his face.

“You got your dress robes? Your toothbrush?” He laughed, imitating my mum. “The wedding rings?” I stopped for a second, my face in panic. I opened my bag and stuck my hand into it until I felt the satin box.

“Got the rings!” I said proudly. Nothing mattered more than that.

“Have fun, Charlie!” Andrei half hugged me and opened the gate for me.

—

I got up and dusted my jeans as I landed flat on the ground after touching the Portkey. I stopped for a second, closed my eyes, and took a deep breath. I felt so nauseous. Never liked to use those things much and I hated apparating even more. And mum still wondered why I didn't come home more often.

I looked to my right and a smile painted my face as I saw the tree where Nova and I used to stargaze under. I looked at the sky, imagining she was looking down upon me, wherever she was, and made my way towards the Burrow.

“Charlie!” I braced myself, knowing full well that Ginny is going to crush me with her hug.

“Hi, Gin!” I hugged her back and looked up, seeing George approach me.

“What happened to your ear?” I couldn't take my eyes off him.

I knew that they transported Harry here last week but for everyone's safety, we didn't correspond much these days if it had nothing to do with the Order.

“I became holey, Charlie.” George was trying hard not to laugh and I narrowed my eyes at him, trying to understand his joke.

“Hol...” I rolled my eyes. “Oh.” I facepalmed myself when he took off the bandage and I saw a hole where his ear use to be.

“Please tell me, he didn't tell his unfunny joke.” Fred showed up and put his hand around my shoulders, us both looking at George now.

“Of course, I did.” George beamed. “He got it before you did!” I started to laugh even though I was shaking my head. I missed them too much not to find their jokes funny.

“There he is!” Bill started towards me. “My best man!” With his arms opened, he pulled me into a hug. “You have the rings, right?” He whispered in my ear and I nodded.

“Ron, Fred, and George bet against Ginny and Hermione that you'll forget.” He rolled his eyes playfully.

“Haven't they learned already that Ginny is always right?” I laughed.

“Charlie, dear!” Before I could say another word to Bill, my mum put her arms around me and squeezed me so tight that I gave out a little sigh. As she pulled away, the smile that the hug gave me faded from my face when I saw the fury with which she was looking at my hair.

“It is time for you to get a proper haircut!” She roared and pulled me by my sleeve.

“Mum, give it a rest!” I felt like I was 12 again. There was nothing wrong with my hair. “So it got a little out of control, so what?”

“A little?” She said and sat me down on one of the chairs in the kitchen. Fred, George, and Bill were giggling like 14-year-old girls, watching mum pull out her wand and started pointing it at my hair.

“Are you trying to disguise him like Harry, mum?” Fred was wiping the tears of laughter now.

“Another word from you and you'll be next!” She stopped pulling my hair for a second and pointed her wand at Fred. He gulped and took a step backward.

“There's barely anything left!” I shouted as Ginny brought me the mirror. “Mum!”

“At least it looks nice now!” She defended herself.

“Nice?” I shook my head in horror. “Mum, I had more hair on my head when I was born!”

“Oh, don't be silly.” She tried to ruffle it, but there was nothing to ruffle. My hair has never been so short and if I didn't know how to grow it back, I would probably throw a tantrum right now.

“Looking sharp, mate.” Fred and George said together, Bill winking at me.

“I know the spell as well, want to be next?” I hissed at them and they pressed their lips together, trying not to laugh.

“I zink you ztill look 'andsome, Charlie.” I turned around to find Fleur glaring at my 3 brothers, her arms on her chest.

“Thank you, Fleur!” I said, even though I couldn't agree and I couldn't wait for everyone to go to sleep to regrow my hair.

That evening, when most of the house was already asleep, I was sitting in the kitchen with Bill, Fleur, Ginny, Hermione, and mum. Ginny and Hermione were discussing different types of hairdos they are going to try for the wedding tomorrow. Mum was telling Fleur about the tiara aunt Muriel is going to lend her for the wedding and I was explaining to Bill how I got one of my new scars.

It was nice being home. I was worried sick when they were transporting Harry and I knew I wouldn't know how it went without a few days passing by. It was a blow when I heard that Moody was killed and Bill wrote to me how disappointed he was when they couldn't find his body.

On the one hand, I was glad that I was away from everything. I experienced being attacked by the Death Eaters and it didn't matter how long ago it was, it still left a bitter taste in my mouth. Being tortured by the Cruciatus Curse. Seeing so many of my friends die. The Dragons being hurt. Losing Nova...

But on the other hand, I felt like I wasn't doing enough. Recruiting Wizards felt like nothing compared to all the work the Order was doing here. I didn't have an opportunity to take a desk job like Bill. There was nothing desk-job-like about Dragons. I wanted to help, I wanted to be more involved but dad said that I already fought my battle and Bill said that he is certain the time will come when we will have to fight again.

“Charlie!” Fleur's exciting voice snapped me out of my thoughts. I looked at her. She was leaning on her hands on the table, looking at me.

“Yes?” I liked Fleur. I think she was perfect for my older brother but we didn't talk much, at least not without a bunch of people around us, so she startled me when the whole room went quiet and they were waiting for what she was going to say to me.

“You are zo 'andsome!” I raised an eyebrow at her. “Bill iz getting married now, you are next!” She lifted her hand confidently in the air.

My heart started to beat faster. I didn't want to talk about my love life. Not to her, not to anybody.

“'ow come you don't 'ave a girlfriend? You should 'ave found someone by now!” Hermione gasped. All eyes were on Fleur. Nobody dared to look at me. The room was now so quiet that I was sure they could hear my raising heartbeat.

“How dare you!” Mum stood up and started towards Fleur. I extended my arm just in time to stop her.

“You...didn't...tell...her?!” Ginny hit Bill in the arm with every word. I turned to him, an apologetic look in his eyes.

“I didn't...I...” Bill was lost for words. Hermione and mum looked like they were going to burst into tears at any moment.

“What did I zay?” Fleur whispered. Her hand over her mouth, her face puzzled.

“That's enough!” I snapped. “Mum, stop piercing Fleur with your eyes. Ginerva stop hitting your brother!” Ginny stopped, her eyes on me now, her hand still clenched into a fist.

“I'm sorry, Charlie...” Bill started, his voice trembling. “I...I didn't know how to tell her and it was never the right moment and...”

“Bill...” I took a deep breath. “It's okay.” I lifted a hand at him to make him stop talking. I closed my eyes, then looked at Fleur.

“You didn't do anything wrong.” I reassured her. “There was someone. Her name was Nova. She was my schoolmate. We were best friends since our First Year.” I swallowed hard. Years might've past but it didn't mean it was any easier to talk about her. “We started dating in our Sixth Year and she worked with me in the Sanctuary.”

“Oh.” Fleur breathed. Both her hands over her mouth now.

“The Summer after He Who Must Not Be Named came back, Death Eaters tried to steal our Dragons. Between fighting them and trying to save the Creatures, they attacked one Dragon and he breathed fire at us from the pain they've caused him. We were both supposed to die, but she...” Fleur was now shaking her head, tears in her eyes.

“She saved me and the burns were too severe to save her.” I blinked fast a couple of times. I didn't want to cry in front of my mum, otherwise, she would hex Fleur.

“We were engaged. One month away from the wedding.” I said in a barely audible voice.

“Oh, Charlie!” Fleur jumped from her seat and wrapped her arms around me. “I am zo zorry! I didn't know!” She cried.

“It's okay. You couldn't have known.” I said softly. I didn't blame her as much as I didn't blame Bill for not telling her. Why would he tell her anything like that? Things like this don't just come up in a conversation and I know how close Bill was to Nova, it probably isn't easy for him to talk about it either.

Mum's look softened as she sent Hermione and Ginny to bed. Fleur gave me one more apologetic look and her and Bill went upstairs as well.

“Charlie.” I looked at my mum. “I am sorry for the way I reacted.”

“Mum, it's okay. Don't mention it.” I smiled faintly.

“It's just...”

“I know. Mum, don't.” I raised my hand to stop her. I already planned on talking to her before I leave back to Romania and I really didn't want to talk about Nova twice. Not to her. It was painful for both of us.

“She is just so...” Mum was looking towards the stairs leading to the floors above, frowning.

“Mum...” Her eyes turned back to me. “I think you shouldn't be so harsh on Fleur. She proved times and times again how much she loves Bill and I don't think it's fair how you're treating her.” Her expression softened, her mouth open at my words.

“I know. I don't know why I am so strict with her. I never was with Nova.” Her voice shook, saying her name. “But then again, Nova was...” She sighed, looking at nothing in particular behind me. “Perhaps it's because of her. I am trying to compare them too much.” She swung her hand.

“Don't. Fleur is great and Bill is happy with her and that's all that matters. She is just as worthy of being in our family as Nova was.” I said gently.

“You're right.” She came closer and cupped my face. “You're just like your father.” She whispered and kissed my cheek. “You both have the biggest loving heart that sees the best in everyone.”

She nodded her head to the stairs, indicating that I should go to sleep as well while wiping a tear off her cheek. I didn't dare say another word and slowly started going upstairs.

[grangergetsthegold]

Seeing Blind - Ch. 1

Summary: After years of wasting their time, Harry and Hermione make a promise to swear off blind dates, forever this time. A pair of meddling friends are determined to change their minds -- and help them see each other in a different light.

-----------------------------------------

It was Friday night, and Hermione was sitting on her couch in her favorite holey pajamas, reading the latest copy of Potioneers Monthly. It had become a bit of a habit for her. She came home from her job in the Department of International Magical Cooperation, changed into her most comfortable clothes, and settled in with the newest academic publication that caught her eye. Part of her thought it was a bit sad, really, but it beat the alternative. Hermione was single, and she had zero faith in the current dating scene. She occasionally let a friend set her up with someone, but that rarely ended well. So she’d created her own weekend rituals, things to keep her mind busy and her heart content. Well, content enough.

She was engrossed in an article about the mutable properties of lacewing flies when her Floo roared to life.

“Shit—Hermione?” a frantic voice hissed through the flames. “Hermione? Are you still awake?”

She dashed across the room and crashed to her knees in front of the fireplace. “What’s wrong, Harry?”

Even blurred by the embers, she could tell his responding grin was a bit sheepish. “Uh, nothing’s wrong, not really. I was just wondering if you were awake, and I didn’t realize what time it was until after I’d already started the call, and I didn’t want to wake you if you’d already gone to bed—”

“Let me rephrase then: What’s going on, Harry?” she asked, unamused.

His smile twisted into a grimace. “Would you mind coming over for a little while? I had a shit night, and I don’t want to end the day that way.”

“Of course,” she said immediately. “I’ll be there in five minutes.”

Hermione quickly changed into more presentable loungewear and Apparated to the living room of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. Harry was sprawled across the warm leather sofa, his tie hanging loose around his neck. His shoes had been toed off and allowed to fall haphazardly beneath him, and his dark hair stuck up at all angles, as though a hand had been run through it many times. The image was a bit forlorn but not unfamiliar to Hermione. The open bottle of firewhiskey on the table and the empty tumbler dangling from his fingers, however, sent her eyebrows rocketing upward. “It really was a shit night, huh?”

“Shit week, really.” Harry grunted as he sat up. “I had a rough few days revising with this Auror class. They’ve got a Stealth final next week, then a few more tests before the final practical exam. Ron thought he was helping ‘relieve some of my stress’ by setting me up on a blind date.”

Hermione groaned and collapsed on the sofa with him. “Not Ron and his blind dates. You know, last time he set me up with a reserve Beater for the Arrows. The guy never took his eyes off my chest—not once the whole night!”

“This girl wasn’t any better,” Harry lamented. “She kept dropping little hints, asking all these probing questions about my investment portfolio, the Potter estate, ‘wondering’ how big the diamonds in my cufflinks were.” He allowed himself a little chuckle. “You should have seen the way she snatched her hand back when I told her they were fake.”

“But they’re not,” Hermione said with a frown. “I bought you those last year for your birthday.”

Harry shrugged. “I know that, and you know that. But I wanted to see how she would react. She practically ran out the door after she finished her glass of wine.”

“God, where does Ron meet these girls?”

“I guess that’s Quidditch fangirls for you. On the bright side, at least I didn’t have to suffer through dessert, too.”

Hermione threw her head back and laughed. “I think I can take care of that one. Want to put on a movie and eat ice cream straight from the carton?”

Harry grinned. “Most definitely. How would you feel about The Maltese Falcon?”

She stood up and headed for the kitchen. “That sounds perfect. You go upstairs and change, and I’ll grab the ice cream.”

Hermione was popping the DVD into place when Harry came back into the living room, clad in comfortable sweats and carrying a thick blanket. “Did you remember to get two spoons?”

She grabbed the pair of spoons from on top of the carton beside her and waved them at him.

“Stupid question,” he muttered, settling under the blanket and then lifting it to let her crawl under too.

Hermione passed him a spoon and then clinked her own against it. “Here’s to dumping a crappy blind date for Bogart and Butter Pecan.”

“Ugh, you picked this flavor, didn’t you?”

“I won the coin toss!”

“You always win the coin toss,” he grumbled, popping the lid off the carton anyway. “And I’m quitting blind dates. For good.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “You said that last time, and the time before that, and the time before that. So did I.”

“And look where that’s gotten us!” he cried.

She tilted her head in capitulation—she never wanted a repeat of her last blind date.

Harry sighed deeply. “I’m perfectly content with my life as it is. I don’t need to go on a date just for the sake of going on a date. Next time, I want it to be because I like the person. I want to go out knowing there’s a good chance I’ll enjoy myself.”

“You’re right,” Hermione said, sitting up straight. “Why should we continue to subject ourselves to hours of sub-par social interaction for the sole purpose of going on a date? We’re perfectly fine as single people.”

“Hear hear!”

She held up her utensil as if it were a champagne flute. “Here’s to the end of crappy blind dates.”

They clinked their spoons together and tucked into the slightly melted tub of ice cream.

------------------------------

Read the rest on AO3 or FFN

[deartimekeeper]

Roses and Distant Echoes Ch. 2

Find on: AO3

Pairing: Nine x Rose

Rating: General

Summary: The palace fluctuated between one world and another. Time slowed and quickened its pace, never staying consistent. Now Rose found herself confined to the echoes of the past and future with a beast as her shadow.

Chapter Summary: In which Rose follows footprints.

It was often said that the orphans at the Powell Estates were unworthy of the kindness they were shown. The truth of the matter was that they were rarely shown any kindness at all.

As the lonely unwanted children they were often reminded of being, they were forced to meet the strict requirements those in charge of the orphanage put in place.

Winters were perhaps the most difficult to overcome; the cold unforgiving temperature of the outside world reflecting the manner in which they were treated. With little to no money from benefactors, the threadbare clothes they wore allowed the freezing weather to seep into their bones through the stone walls of the drafty old building. The younger children in particular suffered more than others. Those that made up the older faction bullied them into giving away extra blankets and the little food they were bestowed with, that is of course, unless Rose was around.

As one who had known the orphanage for most of her life, Miss Rose Tyler knew the inner workings of the hierarchy within. She had suffered the same fate as the younger children when she had first arrived at the orphanage as well.

Having arrived at age 5 to the unaffectionate world of orphan hood, Rose made it her mission to provide the motherly love all the children craved and had rarely ever experienced. She had been more fortunate than the other orphans she befriended. She had come from a loving home. After the death of her father, her mother had done her best in providing Rose with everything she could through her hard work. She still remembered seeing her mother washing and drying clothing, her hands red and cracked from the work they did. Although, they never had much, Rose had never felt in need of anything. She had been content having her mother’s warmth, affection and love, than the coldness she witnessed in the streets when the wealthy went by in their carriages. As soon as she had reached age 16, the indispensable help she provided to the women stuck with the duty of caring for the children, allowed her to become a part of their staff. She did not work for money, but for room and board, as it was the only way to ensure her stay. If the women were to be quite honest, they would be horribly lost without Miss Tyler to help with the unruly and ungrateful children.

Now 20 Miss Rose Tyler had developed a routine in caring for the children and the children in return had grown to respect and admire her caring nature. She had also grown accustomed to seeing children come and go. It was a melancholy sadness that filled her on such occasions. The children were given apprenticeships at a young age in order to have some means of compensation. As soon as children were of age, they were expected to find a job to support themselves and leave the orphanage in order to allow more room for other children without families. Rose did her best to prepare the children for the world in which they would be pushed towards all alone, but having never experienced it herself firsthand, she found it difficult to approach the subject.

On this particular afternoon, Rose felt a bit unsettled. She was never one to ignore her instincts, and the foreboding feeling at the pit of her stomach that had presented itself upon her awekening, left her concerned.

Rushing past the dining hall, arms busy with the clean sheets for the sick children in the nursery, Rose noticed a strange silence come over everyone. As she paused in her hurry, she saw eyes shifting away from her and children nudging each other, fidgeting in their seats. Curious as to what trouble they could have possibly gotten into that even she was being kept in the dark, Rose gazed suspiciously at all those that dared to look up.

“Well?” She put a hand on her hip as she shifted the sheets she held in the other, “What are you all hiding?”

She caught the eye of one of the older kids, Matthew,  a very quiet tall boy that tended to keep to himself. He glanced meaningfully at the empty chair by the right corner of the room. Rose furrowed her brows and looked around the room once more.

“Where’s Tim?” She turned in a circle, her dress fluttering around her ankles and at their reluctance became greatly concerned. “Someone answer now or I’ll bring Matron Redfern in here,” she threatened, aware that dealing with the strict Matron was something none of them would want to be subjected to given the chance. She was avoided by all when she cared to leave her office.

A small voice from one of the younger children, quickly answered, “He’s left Miss. Early this morning he set out. He said there was a way to climb the gate he’d found during his lessons and that he was heading North, to town. He’s only trying to get away from Baines Miss. he’s awfully mean to him.” Her shaking figure dropped back to her seat as other kids glared at her. Rose quickly ran out of the room, leaving the pile of sheets behind on a clear table. She hurried down the hall, skidding to a stop in order to climb up the stairs, skipping steps to get to the matrons study, a behavior that would have instantly been reprimanded had one of the tutors been present.

A missing child in this weather greatly concerned Rose, especially considering how small young Timothy was. He was a very clever child with a timid character, but sometimes he would get the strangest ideas. Normally he was encouraged by Rose to prod at what his imagination came up with, but in this case it was the wrong choice to make.

“Matron Redfern,” Rose burst through the door of the study, causing the blonde woman with the stern face to spill the tea that had been on its way to her mouth.

“Miss Tyler! What is the meaning of this behavior! You must always knock before entering a room!” She dabbed at the tea staining the bodice of her dress while scowling at Rose.

“I’m terribly sorry Matron, but one of the children is missing. Young Timothy Latimer,” she bowed her head twisting her hands that were clasped together in worry.

“Miss Tyler, as an orphanage we always tend to have some children run away from time to time,” it was clear by the look she was giving Rose, the Matron thought her to be too attached to the orphans, such sentiments were not correct in her view.

“I’m aware Matron, but it’s not right just leaving him out there. It’s winter and this snow storm is picking up the more we wait here instead of going out looking for him!” Rose’s voice picked up as she realized she would get nowhere. The Matron although not uncaring, always followed the rules she was given, never deviating from order.

“I will remind you of your position here Miss Tyler,” she said, leaning towards her, “You care for the children that are in our care, since Mr. Latimer clearly does not appreciate what we have been providing for him, he is no longer our concern.” Rose tried to argue, about to interrupt as her anger at the Matron grew, but she rose from her chair and lifted her hand to silence her before she could get any words out. “All I can do is notify authorities in town to keep an eye out for him and perhaps look through the outskirts of the woods, but there is nothing else.”

Rose’s hands clenched into fists and she took a deep breath, “I would like to go out to search for him Matron, just around the grounds.” The Matron sighed looking at her shrewdly. Rose had never liked how that particular look made her feel. Like she was being examined and found wanting.

“I do not think that’s wise Miss Tyler, as you yourself said, the storm will only get worse.”

“I will stay close to the building Matron,” Rose fidgeted, wanting to rush out of the office before the storm worsened. Normally Matron Redfern would have attempted to dissuade her, but Rose’s words had that stubborn undertone everyone knew not to argue with.

Receiving a hesitant curt nod, Rose rushed out quickly, going down to her quarters to retrieve her coat. It was a threadbear thing, patched up with different pieces of cloth she had managed to scrape together. She wrapped an old scarf she had knitted around her neck and thrust her hands into holey gloves as she shut the door and once again skipped down the stairs. Her worry amounted as she pushed open the main door to the orphanage and her eyes started watering from the icy wind.

Timothy was a small boy, not frail like the other boys teased him to be, but nonetheless a small child. And no child could survive out in the cold for too long.

Holding her scarf close to her face, blocking the icy wind from her mouth and nose, she stepped out into the quickly building snow. Her boots luckily, were still in pretty good shape. It would be a while yet before she had to resign herself to come back, unless she was willing to suffer through frostbite.

After walking past the gates that separated the orphanage from the woods that lead to the mountains, Rose began calling  Tim’s name. Walking for several minutes on the path to town she continued yelling for him.

“Tim!” She called, stepping closer to the outskirts of the woods. Her voice hardly discerned through the sounds of the wind picking up. Rose trudged across the snow, moving closer to the trees. There on a low branch was a torn scarf. She picked it up and squeezed it in her hands.

“Oh no, Tim.” Rose sighed, in frustration and determination. Tim had clearly strayed from the path into town. While the closely growing trees in the woods provided more shelter from the wind, it also meant, finding him would be significantly more difficult. Rose realized that while she had promised not to wander too far, and to return shortly, she in all good consciousness could not go back to the orphanage without taking a risk in finding Timothy. He had often taken refuge from the other children with Rose, helping her with her chores and peppering her with questions. She had begun thinking of him as a little brother of sorts. She cared for all the children of course, but Tim needed more of her affection and advice than all the others.

Taking high steps through the snow, she wandered off the path, following barely discernible footprints that the wind and snow had been incapable of hiding amidst the closely packed trees. She continued calling his name as she made her way, her voice breaking from the strain and cold. It occurred to her halfway through the journey that it was rather foolish of her to wander off without telling anyone. She was close to giving up. The longer she trekked through the woods, the more unlikely it seemed that she’d find Tim. She had been out for over an hour if the fading light was anything to go by. Her fingers were beginning to feel numb and her body shook as the cold seeped through her clothes. Yet at the moment she looked up from the faint prints she followed, about to resign herself to failure, she saw something in the horizon. It flickered, and if she had blinked she would have missed it all together.

She often wondered about that moment many years later. One second off and her life would have been completely different. It is disconcerting how small fractions of time can quickly change the direction a life can go

But at that moment, when failure and disappointment were washing over her, she could have sworn she saw a palace up ahead. Just for a fleeting second, before the wind dragged falling snow across her face. Before the image of the palace seemed to blend into the color of the snow and gray mountains she knew were beyond the woods.

Not one to leave questions unanswered, Rose chose to go further into the woods, avoiding the fact that the sun would soon set. It was an unwise decision many would say, but she remembers it as the best choice she made.

She headed in the same direction the prints led thinking that maybe Timothy had found shelter from the storm in the palace she saw.

As she emerged from the thinning trees she approached a clearing and her steps faltered. The wind felt different as she took a step out from the shelter of the trees, warmer and softer. There was a soft haze of light that gently dimmed the longer she stood in shock.

The mountains that surrounded the region of land she was born in, loomed kilometers ahead of her but just before that there was the same flickering she had seen before. It was like a haze of light blue bothering her eyes. She squinted trying to see beyond the blurring blue flickering in and out.

Something was there, but it wasn’t. She took a step closer and suddenly it flickered back into focus.

With a gasp Rose looked wide eyed at the palace that appeared before her eyes. It lay several minutes walk from where she stood, but with its grand size, it was easy to discern.

To her it seemed like the haze that was hiding the castle away was suddenly lifted. Tall gray white towers rose high into the clouds and the back of it seemed to be built into the mountain behind it. There were dozens of windows spreading in either direction. Before it was an open iron gate that looked as though it surrounded the whole clearing. She began walking closer, in awe of what she had never known to be just beyond the orphanage. In front of the gate was a path of gray stone, with shrubbery growing on either side. She saw large bushes to the left, overgrown next to tall weeping willows. It seemed like a large garden but the bars from the gate made it hard to see. To the right expanded another path that led to what looked like a worn gazebo and beyond it she could hear rushing water, although again her view was obscured. Rose had never seen anything like it.

The only palaces she was privy to where those in the books she was capable of reading. Even there her imagination had never come up with anything of this magnitude.

The snow, that in the woods had reached above her ankles was only an inch as she wandered closer to the frosty shrubs that stood on two sides of a stone path leading beyond the gate and to the entrance of the castle. She hesitated for a moment before stepping on the path and finally getting a closer look as to what the grounds of the palace looked like.

In awe Rose’s eyes strayed to the flowers blooming in the light dusting of snow. The roses grew on both sides of the path, a pale yellow color that seemed to brighten the longer she looked at them. The crunch of snow under her feet seemed deafening in such a silent surrounding. While it was serene to an extent, it also felt foreboding and she shivered once more, wrapping her arms around her damp jacket.

Her pace quickened and she looked ahead of her once more. The palace still lay so far away. Her steps hurried, hoping that she’d find Tim safe and sound.

As she approached the tall doors, she looked down at her attire and tried to straighten her coat out. The people living here would surely be used to seeing things better than what she had on.

She felt terribly small gazing up at the top of the doors, which loomed above her three times her height.

Raising a shaking hand towards the iron knocker she took a deep breath and said a short prayer, then hit it against the door three times.

Fidgeting in place, she waited for a minute before knocking again. As she worried her bottom lip she heard slight rustling from beyond the door

Clearing her throat Rose called out, “Hello? Is anyone there?” She paused listening to what sounded like strained whispers. “I’ve lost a friend of mine, his name is Timothy. I just want to take him home.” She stopped to listen again but everything was silent. Her breathing seemed louder somehow. Was it always like that?

The groan of the opening door made her jump and she felt the thudding of her heart against her ribcage. Her trembling hands nervously twisted into the clasp of her jacket.

No one stepped out of the slightly open door and Rose wondered if it would be sheer stupidity to enter the ominous palace that had appeared out of nowhere.

She leaned in closer trying to see inside.

“Hello?” She heard her voice echo in the dark room beyond and stepped closer “Can I come in?”

Her hand touched the door and she pulled it away quickly as it swung open completely. Rose looked back to where she came from and noticed it was getting darker out. Taking another deep breath and holding onto the small amount of courage she had left, she stepped inside.

There was a dim light coming from lit candles by a large staircase. Other than that it was dark everywhere she strained to look at.

“Umh, hello?” she tried again, her nerves making her voice shake. She walked further into the foyer, contemplating whether or not to leave. Even if Tim was somewhere in the castle, the size of it would make it close to impossible of looking for him. The darkness and dust she could see made her wonder whether anyone even lived there. But then again, who had lit the candles?

“Careful,” a voice called out and Rose spun around quickly, “that rug is easy to trip over. The corner sticks up a bit.” A woman stepped out from the shadows her brown hair pulled back at the nape of her neck, and her dress, a simple brown one with an apron tied around her waist, reached her ankles. She gave Rose a kind smile before approaching her. “I’m Sarah Jane. Why don’t you come into the kitchen for some tea?”

Before Rose could respond another voice joined in.

“Oh no, you brought another one?” Rose’s eyes darted behind the woman, Sarah Jane, and saw a man nervously looking past the staircase.

“I didn’t bring her Jack. Clearly she is welcome. The doors opened for her. And the poor dear was just searching for Tim.” Rose’s eyes darted from Sarah Jane to Jack, unsure of how to respond.

“I didn’t mean to cause any problems…” her voice trailed off as Sarah Jane glared at Jack.

“Nonsense dear,” she smiled at her. Jack rolled his eyes and hurriedly ushered them towards the hallway to the left of the entrance.

“Just get to the kitchen quick please,” he smiled tightly at Rose before heading in the opposite direction with rushed steps

“Come along, dear,” Sarah Jane called as she turned and walked away. Rose looked back to the door, considering her options, but the doors suddenly shut, blowing out one of the candles. Bewildered, she quickly rushed after Sarah Jane. The sooner she found Tim, the sooner they could go back to the orphanage.

[hellaoldfander86]

The Grey Mage’s Quest  Ch.2

Word Count: 2410

Tags: Magic, Transformation, bit of angst. Any more please let me know

Read it on AO3 here

Chapter 1

Chapter 2: Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes

Virgil stared with wide eyes and odd fascination as Roman began to glow, then gasped and dropped to his knees. His hair turned red with gold streaks and began to grow, stopping at shoulder length, his ears grew slightly pointed, and what Virgil could see of Romans features, they seemed to grow more angular. Then he began to shrink, clothes and all, and then Virgil knew, as well as their captor what he was becoming, and the mage grabbed a small sturdy cage from beside his work table, unlocked Romans cell door and quickly and carefully deposited the still transforming royal side into the cage, closed the door, and locked it as he sat the cage on a clear side of the large work table.

Romans size seemed to stabilize, and Virgil wasn't sure how tall he was now, since he was still hunched over in the cage. Roman suddenly arches his back like something was raking its claws across it. He groaned in pain, and suddenly dragonfly wings erupt from the royals back, still curled up and damp, but begin to uncurl quickly as blood is pumped into them. He then collapses in what seems like relief, the wings beginning to flutter slightly, as they finish unfurling and begin to air dry as the magic gives Roman all the necessary muscles in his back to control his new body parts.

Roman felt like he had been hit by a truck, but then the truck backed up, running him over again, then was hit by the truck going forward once again.

The transformation was almost done. Small changes to his form were still happening, slight lengthening of his fingers, his waist slimming a bit, chest broadening and gaining musculature. He had shrank, which felt like he was being pressed flat at the time. He stayed on his hands and knees on the bottom of a cage he didn't remember being transferred into, concentrating on the fluttering of his new wings against his back. He was still fully clothed, thank goodness, and the split second he felt the back of his jacket change to accommodate the soon to erupt wings, realization set in. He was a fairy now. His tunic was still white, so a light fairy. The chaos magic would have changed it if that was not the case. The tingling of the magic subsided, and he gave a sigh of relief. It was done. To become his old self he needed the reversal agent. They all would, when the rest are changed into who knows what.

“Your Highness, look at me.” Roman hears a voice murmur. He looks up and turns his head in the direction the voice came from, looking into the now large face of the Grey Mage. “The change is complete.” the mage says with a smile. “You are beautiful! A fine specimen of a light fairy!” Roman stands up in the cage and mutters “I’m so glad you approve.” As he crosses his arms over his chest.

The mage smiles once more. “I heard that! Good. You have the voice amplification magic that all fairies have, which means you will have all the abilities of a light fairy. We may need the healing on our journey.”

The mage turns to the rest of the captives. “Who’s next?” He asks. Patton immediately raises his hand. “Me.”

The mage retrieves the light blue glowing bottle and presents it to the fatherly trait, who accepts it gingerly. Patton follows Romans example and downs the potion quickly and hands the bottle back to the mage.

Logan watches Patton begin to sweat heavily as the transformative magics take effect. But then Patton’s body stiffens and he throws back his head and opens his mouth, and a thick light blue glowing cloud flows from Patton’s mouth, but stays within the confines of the small cell even though it should have flowed out through the bars. The cloud fills the small cell in moments, and all Logan can see is a vague shape within the cloud that is the fatherly trait.

Patton stiffly stands in the middle of his small cell, unable to see anything but the cloud surrounding him. He suddenly gets the odd sensation of hands that grab his arms and hold them straight out from his sides and keeps them there. He feels an odd sensation building within his body, like he is being stretched and pulled, and his skin begins to tingle, as his chest broadens, and  his arms and legs seem to thicken, to put more substance to his thin body.  The cloud suddenly absorbs back into Patton’s body through his skin, and as the cloud clears, He only has moments to realize that the headroom in his small cell has greatly diminished before he drops to his hands and knees and every muscle in his body seems to start twitching all at once. He suddenly begins to swell, and muscles begin to grow starting at his legs, and Patton struggles to stand back up, grabbing the cell bars to pull himself up as his legs become more muscular and fill out. His abs are next, and the fatherly trait feels them lock into a six pack, and his chest fills out and his arm muscles swell and define into impressive but not overdone cords of thick, strong muscle. But before he can wonder if something else is going to happen, searing pain causes him to close his eyes and stand stiffly straight as a set of arms burst from his sides ripping through the sides of his polo, gaining the exact musculature of his already existing set within moments, forcing a groan from Patton’s throat as the magic shimmers around him and his polo remakes itself, with extra sleeves where needed.

Patton stands in the suddenly even smaller cell and stares down at his transformed body, taking in his extra height and arms. “Holey cow! I’m like the Incredible Hulk!” he mutters in a deep voice and looks over at Virgil with wide startlingly light blue eyes.

Virgil stares at the fatherly sides new 6 foot 5 thickset form. Two down two to go. But he has a feeling he knows what he will transform into. He just has to take his potion to prove himself right.

Karybdis alternates looking at the two remaining untransformed captives and raises his eyebrows in an unasked yet understood question.

“I’m next.” Logan says before Virgil can draw a breath to speak.

The mage retrieves the dark blue glowing bottle and hands it to the logical captive, who, like the other two, drinks the potion down and gives the bottle back to the mage, who steps back toward the work table and the transformed Roman.

Logan still tastes the bitter herbal potion even after he swallowed the vile concoction down. Magic and fantasy was Roman’s realm, not his. And the could not help but be concerned about what will happen when the magic has its way with him.

Logan stiffens as the magic travels through his body like an electrical current. Buzzing and crackling, his muscles lock up and his head is forced to stare upward. He is unable to move, even just a little bit.

Roman watches Logan’s transformation closely. The logical side stands in his cell, muscles locked, head looking upward, mouth slightly open, it looks like Logan is beginning to sweat, but there is something odd about the color. Liquid silver oozes from every pore on his body, as Logan closes his eyes tight. The exposed skin on his arms are quickly covered, his face follows suit. What stands in the cell now is a smooth shiny silver mannequin wearing Logan’s clothes, that begins to grow. It only grows a few inches and his clothes get larger with him, and it puts Logan at 6 foot 3. The silver form fills out a little bit, to give him a slightly thicker build, then his skin begins to dull to a brushed look. His elbow and finger joints form, able to bend once more, his neck becomes overlapping segments, to facilitate head movement. Logan lowers his head, and Roman sees Logan’s mouth open and close, and it seems like Logan will be able to talk with a mouth that mimics a humans, with a complex looking collection of delicate segments, making it possible for him to emote with his mouth at least, by being able to articulate the corners of his mouth. Logan’s eyelids settle to their segmented, metal form, and are able to finally open, and Roman is greeted with glowing indigo eyes behind Logan’s glasses, which look to be fused to his face.

Logan brings his hands up to his face and flexes the fingers, he then places a hand on his chest, and is met with an unyielding surface beneath his shirt. He doesn’t even remember when he had stopped breathing. He touches his hair that seems to be some kind of synthetic material, still styled in his preferred way. He crosses his arms and looks around the cave, noticing that he is also a bit taller.

Karybdis stares at Logan. “An automaton!” He murmurs. “Fascinating!” He then picks up the purple glowing bottle. One last transformation to go.

Virgil takes a deep breath as Karybdis brings over the last potion, and hands it to the anxious side, who steels himself and drinks it down in one gulp, like the others. “If you have another of those fairy cages, you better get it ready.” Virgil says to the mage as he hands back the empty bottle wincing at the nasty taste of the potion.

Virgil closes his eyes and the magic flows from his stomach outward, bringing pins and needles to his extremities, and a sudden cramp forces him to his knees as he feels his scalp itch as his hair grows down to his shoulders, and the pinch on the tops of his ears that signify the points they now sport. His gums begin to tingle, and suddenly his teeth are being forced out of his gums and being replaced by sharper alternatives growing in quickly as he spits out the ejected teeth. He suddenly feels like he is being squished flat as he begins to shrink. He hears the mage open his cell door and feels him carefully transfer his still transforming body to the cage. The door shuts and locks, and he catches a glimpse of Roman as he is set next to the creative sides prison.

Roman looks on as Virgil’s transformation continues. He was confused at first when Virgil told Karybdis to get another fairy cage ready, but he soon came to understand. You can’t have light without dark.

Virgil runs his tongue carefully along his new mouthful of sharp teeth, feeling his face become more angular like Roman’s. He crouches on his hands and knees on the bottom of the cage, feeling his hips narrow and his shoulders widen and the muscles on his torso become more pronounced, as he readies himself for the inevitable pain in his back signifying the emergence of his wings. His hoodie and shirt suddenly feel different on his back and the pain begins, and he arches his back involuntarily as the pain forces a shout from his throat.

Roman watches as Virgil’s back arches and his new wings emerge, curled up and a bit damp, like his was, but as the wings begin to uncurl as blood is being forced through the veins and membranes within the delicate structures, He sees that Virgil’s wings are a clear membrane with a black frame around the outer edge, and they closely resemble butterfly wings. They begin to slowly move, the magic making the wings fully functional and they slowly open and close automatically, to begin to dry the rest of the way.

Virgil stares at his hands as his nails grow sharp and tough, and he grabs the cage crossbars to help him stand up. He brushes his long purple and black streaked hair out of his now purple gem-like eyes, and is met by the sight of Roman, looking at him from his own cage, not too far away. The newly transformed light fairy looking at him with concern in his red gem-like eyes from a slightly angular, but still Roman-looking face framed by his red and gold streaked hair and with his dragonfly wings fluttering nervously behind him.

“Virge? You gucci?” Roman asks him.

“Yeah.” Virgil answers. “But I feel like I was repeatedly hit by a bus.”

“You and me both. Welcome to the eight inch high club.” The royal side answers with a sigh.

Karybdis walks over to the two occupied cells and unlocks and opens them, letting Patton and Logan out.

“There is now no reason for the cells or cages anymore.” the mage says as he unlocks the fairy cages and props the doors open.

“Yeah, since we are being blackmailed into helping you, and can't go home looking like this, now!” Virgil growls stepping out of his cage and sitting down with his legs dangling off the work table edge.

“Hopefully we can find the reversal agent within a minimal timeframe.” Logan adds, as he walks up to examine the two sides-turned-fairies closer.

“One can only hope.” Patton adds in his new, deeper voice, as he crosses both sets of arms across his torso, and sitting on a sturdy nearby bench with a sigh.  

“I truly regret having to do this to you all.” Karybdis sadly says. “But lives can be saved if we can get that agent.”

“Sure, but the way you go about it leaves something to be desired.” Roman adds with a glare and an unconscious buzz from his wings, as they react to his agitation.

“Nonetheless, we will begin our journey tomorrow morning.” The mage declares as he sets down a large box with a door large enough for the fairies to enter it on the work desk after setting the cages back on the floor.

“A fairy hutch?” Roman asks. “I wouldn't peg you as a guy that would actually own a fairy crash pad.”  

“I have fairy friends that stay over sometimes.” Karybdis quietly answers. “Hopefully the cots in the cells will be enough for the others. See you in the morning.” the mage says as he steps through a large wooden door that Roman hadn’t noticed before, leaving the sides alone.

Chapter 3

[lxiewrites]

Racing and Volcanoes

Ch. 5 of Altea High

“Uff!” Keith glared at the back of the douche that shoved him into the lockers. He barely repressed a snarl as he pushed off of the locker, his hands imprinted in the now-soft metal. Wincing, he scurried off before the owner of the locker came by, if it’s any consolation his gloves are ruined too, but they’ll probably not see it that way.

He softly clapped to put out the smoking fabric and hurried down the nearly empty hallway. The rest of the people didn’t shove him against the locker, in fact, gave him a wide berth. He’s not sure which one’s worse.

He knew high school was going to suck ass. Evidence: see four years ago. He’s already gotten shit from a bunch of people the first few days of school for having not one, but two, supervillain parents. And it’s not like he can’t hear the whispers, malicious, curious, or the ones with the slight undertone of fear. He didn’t blame them, they have the right to be afraid, it didn’t stop the fact it was very isolating though. He did like being alone but being forced onto the fringes of school society rubbed him the wrong way.

Yet…

He was relieved.

Two weeks into his high school career and nothing but just some dumbasses being dumbasses. Nothing on fire, nothing exploding, hell, he even made some quasi-friends. Even if those friends are friends with one of the most annoying idiots on this whole damn Earth.

Honestly, what’s his deal?

Whenever he had an answer in class Lance would try to beat him to the answer. He challenged him to who could get more points on a worksheet. He would subtly try to be slightly faster than him when walking down the hall. Starting random arguments about something that was said until they ended up in a shouting match over the quality of the school’s pudding. Just really random annoying shit. Keith wasn’t even trying to do anything! And if Lance wasn’t looking like him like he insulted his mother Lance was looking constipated. The first time Keith noticed he asked if the other boy needed to use the restroom but that just resulted in Lance declaring he was besmirching his honor or something.

Keith didn’t understand Lance. Sure he has to be around him whenever he’s at school but he still included him with his friends? Being partners during class was a requirement when needed but he didn’t have to sit with him or include him with his friends. He just needed to be in the same room as Keith really.

He’ll worry about it later. It was Wednesday and he needed to meet Coach Rush for moving the lava walls for the Terrain class later. One of the few times Lance didn’t have to babysit him.

Keith speed-walked down the hall, taking the longer but least crowded pathways. He stopped in front of the stairs and paused, around the corner was the elevator, and it was six floors down. Stairs? Or elevator? He should probably conserve energy for the lava walls.

He punched the down button with his thumb and crossed his arms to wait for the old elevator. It finally dinged down to his floor and opened to reveal Shay. Keith offered a smile as he stepped in.

Shay was the other person who was working for Coach Rush on the lava walls. She was a tall girl with coffee bean skin and warm amber eyes, and one of the nicest people he has ever met. Add to the fact he doesn’t have to worry about accidentally hurting her, she was aces. Her powers were to physically turn into crystal and in that state it’s nearly impossible for her to get hurt, but she’s slow, mobile but slow. He’s hypothesized that it was possibly diamond but she just laughed and said it was a lot better than diamonds.

“Hi, Shay.”

“Hello, Keith! Are you ready for the lava walls?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be. Think you can keep up?”

She laughed airily. “I’m sure I’ll manage.”

Keith was about to quip back but flickering lights interrupted him. They both looked up as the lights flickered on and off like they were in a bad horror film before they finally gave up the ghost and the entire elevator stalled.

The two looked at each other before looking at the control panel. Neither moved as the dim emergency lights came on. Shay broke the silence. “So, should we press the emergency button?”

Keith pursed his mouth before shrugging. Licking his lips he asked, “Does this normally happen?”

“It has happened, it’s an old castle, but it’s never happened to me.”

Before either could move the elevator stuttered and was descending again. The emergency lights turned off as the brighter yellow-toned fluorescents took over. Keith noticed the sheen of sweat on Shay’s dark skin he didn’t notice before.

He swallowed the upcoming lump. “I’m, uh, really sorry about…” He made a vague gesture indicating… everything.

She smiled kindly, eyes sympathetic. “Don’t worry about it Keith. I hope you don’t find this rude but, it doesn’t seem you…”

“Have control?” She nodded. “I… struggle with it sometimes.”

“Well, that’s why you’re here right? I’m here because, well, I really want to see the world and being here… helps.”

He looked at her curiously; she seems to have perfect control over her powers. He couldn’t imagine her hurting anyone or having issues with her powers that she needs help with.

She noticed his look and fiddled with the gold hoops in her ears, blushing slightly. “Uhm, as you know my powers is to turn my body into crystal, Balmarean crystal actually, and for me to make the crystal it actually takes some of my… energy? From me. And the crystal is physically a part of me, even when I’m not transformed, so it… saps? Life force from me. And being here has helped me stabilize my life force with the crystal so it doesn’t take so much out of me.”

She looked over to see his eyes wide and mouth ajar, she chuckled softly under her breath. “Uh, oh, wow. I—I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” He stammered.

“It’s fine, I’ve had my powers since I was a youngling. I’ve grown used to it but being at Altea has only helped me with my powers and it can help you too.”

He smiled at her. “Thank you, Shay.”

The door dinged and the doors swooshed open. He let Shay out first and followed her down the hall to the Terrain room. It was the same room where they play Save the Citizen, there was always the classic of the citizen being dangled precariously over sharp rotating blades but they liked to mix it up with the Terrain class.

Terrain class went over different scenarios that could happen and how to survive in those environments with or without a supervillain or monster. Save the Citizen was more of a game that everyone liked to compete against each other but still good training, especially with teamwork. They liked to put the Citizen in more and more ridiculous scenarios that was originally part of the Terrain class. There hasn’t been a situation where a real life citizen has ever been held over an active volcano in decades. Some of the scenarios that they’re putting this fake doll in are only seen in movies or comic books. How is knowing the best way to escape boiling lava preparing future superheroes he asks you?

The weird scenarios of Save the Citizen were so popular that it eventually became a tournament that happens during the school year. There’s some sort of prize at the end and people pair up in teams unlike the random pairs chosen during class. Villains and heroes duke it out until there’s one big showdown between the top hero and villain team. None of the teams have been decided so far from what Shay said. They want the students to get used to classes before some bite off more than they can chew. It’s only rarely that it becomes unbalanced where the final battle is between two heroes or two villain teams, but if it does the heroes compete who can rescue the Citizen the fastest and the villains just try to defeat each other.

Keith found it kinda stupid. He can understand some of the lessons that come with it, teamwork, home advantage and disadvantage, unknown situations, and it would be useful to fight against other supers, but he still finds it stupid. The future superheroes that might actually have to save people should be learning the most common scenarios that would be happening, which would be in cities and for protecting real citizens. Not for stupid reasons like prizes or a tournament. What are the chances that someone is going to be battling other supers in some underwater cavern or a foreign jungle and not some building?  Or even a street?

“And the last one!” Cheered Shay as she deposited the dormant lava wall from her crystalized back. She turned to him and gave him an angular smile, the crystal giving her sharp edges and straight lines but glowing from within, a physical representation of her disposition.

The teal, glowing crystals that made up her body dulled and cracked as bits and pieces chipped off of her. Perfect Balmarean shards fell into a pile at her feet, no longer glowing with her life force, until all that was left was a smiling Shay.

Kicking aside some of the discarded jewels she slipped off to the side to the Safe Zone. “Your turn, Keith!”

Keith looked over at the field in front of him. Seven craggy miniature volcanoes dotted across the floor. Bumpy with carved out lines from use but wide and tall enough that it could be scaled. The floor itself was reminiscent of the soil and land surrounding a real volcano but with that Hollywood effect. Raised platforms as solitary islands for when the lava starts flowing and surrounds the isolated landmasses for the superkids to maneuver from.

While the heat from the manufactured lava didn’t hurt him it did a bit more damage to his clothing despite being fire retardant. In the contained environment of the gym he felt confident enough to at least strip down to his T-shirt and leggings. He wasn’t risking his boots so he toed them off too and tossed them to the Safe Zone.

In his holey socks he climbed up the fourteen feet to the mouth of the mini volcano and dropped down, bending his knees on impact. He should probably climb down as this killed his knees but who had the time? Shuffling around he felt for the thick metal tube in the faux volcano and the connector in the floor that would transfer the magma. Slotting them together he scrambled as quickly as he could out of the throat of the volcano and slid as best as he could down the face to the others.

One by one he attached the mechanism as the former dormant volcanoes filled with lava and sluggishly spilled over the lips. The molten rock flowed down the worn crevices and onto the floor forming the deadly terrain for the freshmen. Keith doesn’t know where the lava goes after the class but he’s just happy he doesn’t have to clean it up.

When he attached the last one he scrambled down the last fake volcano skidding over to Shay with quite a few more holes in his clothing than before. He stopped quite a few ways away as she wasn’t in her crystal form and started to add his layers back on. He was in the midst of poking his head through his dark red pullover hoodie when a shout paused him.

“Kogane!”

He looked up to the top of the bleachers to see Coach Rush in all her glory, sweats and a zip-up. In a blink she was in front of him, hot air blowing his bangs back, she smoothed her brown ponytail before smirking at him. Coming up at five foot nothing she came up to his chin but that didn’t stop her from being one of the more intimidating teachers at Altea with her tendencies to just throw the kids in any situation that might prove difficult. Literally. The first week he was there he saw her throw a sophomore into a pit of snakes for class. The kid’s superpower was transforming into a mouse.

She looked at him with mischievous green eyes, “Has someone told you about the SC Tournament?” Slowly, he nodded.  She nodded, half a smile on her pixie features, and pointed at him. “You would be great at it, have you thought about entering?”

His eyes darted around him landing on the bleachers, the glass barriers separating the seats from the fiery topography, Shay, and back to Coach Rush. He scooted a little farther away, snatching up his shoes and slipping them on, keeping his focus on tying firm knots. “Not really.” He started on the other. “I haven’t even played Save the Citizen yet or know anyone to be my partner.”

She hummed. “Shame. You’re quick, and that’s from me. We’ll play Save the Citizen next Friday; we still have about a week after that to set up the roster let me know by then. I think you’d be good. I gotta go grade stuff, good job you two!” She flashed a quick smile and a double thumbs-up before disappearing in a…rush... of wind.

Keith looked over at Shay who only laughed. He finished putting on the rest of his clothes and firmly putting his beaning back on his head before prodding the comfortable silence with a question. “Are you planning on entering the tournament?”

“Yes actually! My brother Rax and I are participating.”

“You have a brother?”

They started to walk back to the elevator, Shay pushed one half of the double doors open and Keith ducked under her arm. “I do. His powers are very similar to mine, he can form the crystals separate from his body but it’s a similar effect.”

He felt relief when the elevator doors opened, not because he didn’t like talking to her but he didn’t really have anything to say to that. That relief died a swift death when those doors revealed Lance.

He didn’t notice Keith yet too distracted with talking to a pretty girl next to him. His hair was wet, slightly curling as it dried, and his blue baseball tee and jeans were damp and clinging to his body drawing attention to his shoulders and waist. Keith scowled. Who put their clothes on directly after swimming? That’s disgusting.

Lance looked over, a bright smile on his face, at least before he saw Keith. The girl next to him nudged him, the petulant frown on his face relaxed into another big grin when he saw Shay. “Shay-bae! How’s it going?”

“Nothing much. Keith and I just finished with the volcano obstacle course.”

“Keith helped?! And they’re going to allow children on that?!”

“Hey!” Keith shouted, taking an unintentional step forward.

“I-I’m sure it’s fine!” interrupted Shay, waving her hands an attempt to calm the two boys down. “Even Coach Rush said that Keith was good, she even said he should sign up for the Tournament.”

The doors were about to close until Lance pushed them open again. ”Reeeaally? Keith here? Epic emo child, I-work-alone boy wonder? I don’t think I’ve ever seen him work with anyone. He couldn’t do it, it would be against nature.”

Keith could feel his eye twitch. Where the hell does this guy get off on thinking he knows him so well? They’ve only known each other for a few weeks and most of that time they were bickering! He could work on a team if he wanted to, if he wasn’t working with an idiot. Which doesn’t seem likely at this point since Lance was going to be his partner. Granted, he’s actually right in the fact that he prefers to be working alone and has for pretty much the entirety of his school career but he could work with others if he wanted to! He could do well it Pidge, or maybe not since her powers are plant based, Pokémon did teach him something… He could work with Hunk, at a distance, or even Shay! Hell, with Shay’s powers he wouldn’t have to worry about burning her! But she said she’s teamed up with her brother.

Bottom line was that he could kick ass in the Tournament with the right person.

When he said just that Lance just gave him a smirk and pushed the door open again. “Please, with your prickly personality it would be a miracle that someone would put up with you’re as—butt.”

The girl next to him burst into laughter, her teal-blue hair drying in the proximity of Keith’s powers. “Oh my God, Lance! You’re still doing that? You’re mother’s not here, I’m sure you’ll be fine to swear.”

Lance looked seriously at the girl, tipping his head down the slightest bit to make sure his navy eyes met her cerulean ones. “Plax,” He paused, his eyes squinted and turned into something towards pleased surprise. “…You might be right. My mother isn’t here! Ha! Keith! You are an a—“ His pants buzzed. He reached into his pocket and swiped a few times on the screen, his face going through a series of emotions before deciding on a deadpan stare he leveled a Plax. “That’s a my mother.”

Despite the dead serious delivery of that statement the taller boy’s lips twitched and the girl, Plax, sputtered out a bark of laughter before giving up and snorted while Shay gave a polite giggle.

“Oh my God, your mother knows all,” Plax breathed, hand to her heart.

Lance shrugged and stopped the doors from closing once again. “She always seems to know. And oh my God, just get in the elevator!”

While Shay hurried in Keith paused. The elevator was on the smaller side and there were quite a few more people, in the forms they are now he could hurt all of them. Would it be safe with his kind of powers?

“Are you coming, Keith?” Shay asked.

“Umm…”

“Just get in here, Mullet. You were just using your powers right? I’m always colder when I use my powers. If it gets too steamy I’ll just turn up the AC.”

Okay, this. This here is why Keith doesn’t get Lance. He acts like a jerk eighty percent of the time but then he does other stuff like this! Covering for him for his lack of control. He’s not blind and he’s not stupid but he just doesn’t understand what’s going on in that frosted over brain of his! Either be a jackass or not, he’s fine with either; just pick one!

Nonetheless, he crosses the threshold before the doors close again. He goes to stand as far away as he can from the rest.

Until Plax started to move closer to him. “Lance,” she whined. “We just got out of the pool and you’re making me freeze to death. I’m standing by Keith.”

Eyes wide Keith practically lurched towards Lance, scrambling to make sure that he didn’t touch anyone. When he was on the opposite side of Lance everyone stared at him and his face flared with new heat, smoking his hat and counteracting the cold he could feel from Lance. “I—uh—I’m a little too hot right now.”

Lance looked physically pained for a brief moment. Keith checked to see if he touched him before Lance blurted, “Hot damn!”

Keith looked at him, face screwed up in confusion while Shay giggled and Plax snorted again.

”What?”

“You know the song? By Bruno Mars? I’m too hot! Hot Damn!”

”What?”

Lance looked him up and down, but not in the constipated or disbelieving way that Keith’s used to but more contemplative. “We’ll work on it.”

It was then that Keith noticed how chilly where he was. Plax was right; standing next to Lance was how he imagined being in a meat locker was. He was actually cold, and he was never cold. Except for that one time, but it still threw him for a loop.

Was it just Lance trying to out-do his heat powers? Sounds like something stupid he would do. It also occurs to him that he might not be producing enough heat, but he’s been sending off heat waves enough to roast marshmallows to a perfect golden brown since he was thirteen, why would he stop now?

The cold was starting to recede a bit. “Dude, you need to chill out. Heh, get it? Chill out? But I have an idea, here.” Lance reached for his hand and Keith bodily recoiled, left hand as far away from his as he could get.

“What? No!”

Lances brow furrowed. “Dude, like I said, chill out. It’ll be fine; you won’t get cooties or anything. Just—let me—c’mon—dude! Just give me your hand!”

“No! I’ll burn you! Are you stupid?”

“You won’t burn me! My powers are ice; it’ll be fine! I wanna try something! If you would—just—work with me here, gah!” Lance stepped back heaving a breath, hands up like Keith has a gun on him. “Fine. Okay, you win.”

Slowly, Keith lowered his guard. Lance stuffed his hands in his pockets so Keith crossed his arms. He shifted his weight to one hip, waiting for their floor. Looking over he noticed that Lance engaged Shay and Plax in a conversation. It made him frown, he didn’t want Lance to burn himself by trying to do something stupid but he so easily forgot about his existence for a couple of cute girls. Some guide.

He turned to look at the numbers at the top of the elevator, only two more floors left. He could feel their powers trying to battle each other; every so often the temperature would get slightly warmer or colder. Not enough to be uncomfortable but enough to be noticeable.

“AH-HA!”

“AHHH!”

Lance straight up tackled him to the floor! This guy had a fucking death wish or something! He shoved at the body on top of him with his clothed shoulder and elbowed him in the stomach. “What the fuck, Lance!”

“Ha! Told you it’ll be fine!”

Keith looked down to see Lance grasping the back of his hand. The hand with the ruined fingerless gloves that showed patches of skin through. Lance didn’t recoil or shout in pain but there was steam hissing from their two hands.

“What the fuck.”

“Mamá told me that with our powers like they are they should naturally cancel each other out. Like if we focus our energy on one point, like our hands, everything else should be relatively the same temperature. Mamá Martinez knows all.”

“I thought your last name was McClain, Lance?” Shay asked.

“That’s his last name, his mother just didn’t take his father’s last name,” Plax replied. “And his mom works with super-powered kids, she should know.” Plax sounded proud, almost like she’s speaking about her own mother than her friend’s.

“Oh! That’s interesting, what does your mother do, Lance?”

Lance pulled Keith up by the hand but Keith kept staring at Lance’s hand in his. In all honesty the entire conversation seemed very distant, like all these people were shouting from across the school.

He guessed it makes sense; Lance and him did have completely different powers so one theoretically would cancel the other. He focused his attention to the temperature and for once since he was eleven he wasn’t running hot. He shivered, not used to the lack of heat.

The doors opened on their floor not long after. Once Shay and Plax stepped off the elevator Keith quickly, but not too quickly, it didn’t bother him at all, ripped his hand out of Lance’s and crossed his arms.

Lance’s face was red high on his cheeks but he rolled his eyes dramatically. “Come on, we have Slav next. You need to make this class more than anyone.”

“What the hell does that supposed to mean?”

“It means we need to get to class, you pyro.”

While he would have loved to stay and put Lance through the inquisition the warning bell rang and they only had two minutes to get to the Analysis of Property Destruction and Prevention on the second floor.

Lance sprinted off in the direction of the stairs. “Race ya!”

“You cheater!”

Keith briefly wondered if the flying school bus could just drop him down the chimney. He might ask the bus driver next time because trudging all the way from the bus stop is way too much work after Wednesdays. He’s done exercise before but he’s been homeschooled for four years and there’s not much required physical labor with that unlike activating seven volcanoes.

“Scarlet, I’m home!”

“I’m in the kitchen!”

Keith walked in expecting her to be cooking something; usually he helps by taking things out of the oven with no oven mitts. He’s really helpful cooking bacon in the morning when the hot oil starts attacking.

What he didn’t expect was Scarlet frowning hard enough to pull a deep V in her brow, staring at the envelope in her hand like it did her a great injustice. Her amber eyes darted up to him and back to the mail. She frowned even harder and bit her lip. Finally she sighed and pulled out a chair for him and handed him the letter when he sat down.

Carefully, he took it, holding it by the edges. “What’s this?” The address on the envelope was messy and looked like the pen was losing ink by the repeated indents and sputtered out ink. In a handwriting that decorated his childhood with notes and permission slips.

“It’s a letter from your mother.”

Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4

Ao3

[soundsofwinter]

under the waves

@taleoftwoindies

He couldn’t stand it, being in the Burrow for long stretches of time. It wasn’t that it was quiet. No, noise vibrated through the walls once more, the house plum full of gingers and guests. Even Bill and Charlie were home. Add in Fleur, Harry, and Hermione, along with an assortment of others, and the Burrow was as animated as it’d ever been. They were all gathered for a Christmas get-together. The first Christmas since the war had ended. Ginny and Hermione were back from school for break and his mother insisted that they all celebrate. 

The traditional sweaters had been passed out, and George had to fight against lingering too long on Fleur’s, the embroidered ‘F’ familiar yet misplaced. 

He quietly excused himself from the festivities without a word. Everyone was caught up in their own conversations, tucked away in their little worlds where they were all moving toward the future. Meanwhile, the jokes’ shop doors were closed and if he had any initiative, he would look into selling the property. As it was, he had no motivation. He hadn’t come up with an invention in ages. The most he’d done was move out, only able to handle being around his family in short bursts. 

He’d only come to this shindig through a massive amount of persuasion, and George had been too tired to resist forever. Besides, he needed to show his face every now and again to assure his mother that he was alive and well. Otherwise, she’d show up at his doorstep with a casserole in hand. 

He tucked further into his coat, snow crunching beneath his boots. He sauntered out until he could no longer hear the hum of laughter from the Burrow, leaning against the fence. He was fed up of having to insist that he was fine, wanting to be left alone. Because that’s what he was: alone. And he had accepted that, but he was still learning on how to live with it. He didn’t want to be treated as if he were made of glass, knowing that he was far from the only one who had experienced loss.