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irisinthemoon · 2 years

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Until I Found You, Pt. 4

[Pt. 1], [Pt. 2], [Pt. 3], [Pt. 4], [Pt. 5], [Pt. 6]

Warning: F!Reader, Spoilers to the Masquerade events, a few curse words, fluff, reader having slight anxiety

Characters: Rollo, Eliott (oc), Jules (oc), Malleus (Mentioned), Grim (mentioned), Yuu (mentioned)

Summery: After your discussion with Rollo, you go back to your routine along with the task you offered to help in. As you finalize the last invitation, talk about the week long festival pops up, making you realize your feelings for a certain third year may be more than just simple friendship.

Info of some of the subjects talked about in this chapter: As I had mentioned in the first chapter, I will be adjusting the whole masquerade event so it first with the story line I am planning. For starters, the masquerade is an event held for an entire week which will end in a ball. This week long event is held around the time winter break ends, basically all six boys will have already went through their overblots, except Malleus.

“The letter was very well written, all I did was check for grammar and spelling. But other than that, you did well.”

You beamed at the praise Rollo gave you. It had been three days since you talked things through and settled in an understanding. The aftermath had been rather calm as the Headmage understood your request and began looking into families that may be able to take you in along with helping you form an identity. He even allowed you to continue your studies at NBC, much to your surprise and delight.

“That’s good! I had to re-write it multiple times. I even searched up how to speak to fae royalty as reference.” Jules chucked from the corner of your room. He was settled in your work table as he typed away in his computer, inputting the last bookings for the guest you finished yesterday. “Knowing you, you also probably searched for how they spoke to royalty.” Eliott laughs and you scoff, feeling a little embarrassed.

Rollo simply huffs in amusement as he hands you another piece of golden thread, to which you thank him. Placing the needle in-between your lips, you rolled your eyes at the antics of your friends. It was Friday and since most of the preparations were done for the Masquerade happening on Monday, Eliott and Jules decided to spend their free time in your dorm room.

Rollo had come along to let you know that the invitation you wrote had been approved and that it would be sent tomorrow. “I gotta say though, you managed to finish the other two Masquerade costumes in two days yet you still are working on the one for Prince Malleus.” Added Eliott, who was sitting on your bed with his book open. You huff and gestured for Rollo to pass you one of the green gems in your work table next to Jules’s laptop. “The only reason I managed to finish the other two so soon was because they were easier to make and dressing them in over the top costumes wouldn’t fit their aesthetics.”

With full concentration, you began sowing the green gemstone right where the chest is located. “For Grim, I decided on a pair of boots, a hat, a cape, a traditional black mask, and last but not least a black belt. All of those may seem simple but they bring out his cuteness.” Doing a small knot, you cut off the golden thread with the scissors the white haired boy offered you.

“And for Yuu, I did a set of dark blue pants that fit around the Renaissance era back in my world along with a shirt to match and a cape that would match Grim’s cape. As for the boots and mask, they all bring out his charms. The hat is meant to add an air of mysteriousness to him much like how Grim’s own costume is meant to portray his cuteness.”

Stepping back, you allowed yourself to get a full view of the costume. Majority of the outfit was done, the more complex designs were done in gold thread that you used the sewing machine Rollo brought for you so as to not struggle much. The boots accompanying the outfit were also done and ready to go.

“Rollo, can you pass me the cape I have hanging in my closet please?” He hums, and goes to your closet. Tilting your head to the side, you busied yourself with fixing the clothes on the mannequin, straightening any wrinkles that may appear. “Here you go [name].”

Giving him a smile and a small thanks, you gently took the coat off his hands and placed it over the mannequin’s shoulders. Clasping the golden chains onto the golden collar, you made sure none of it was tangled. Fixing the black feathers in the shoulders and spreading the cape flawlessly on the back, you did some last minute adjustments before allowing yourself to step back.

“Would you look at that?” Jules let out a low whistle as his red eyes admired the almost finished Masquerade costume. “Wow girl, you managed to outdo yourself! I don’t think even the Fashion club would have been able to pull this off.” Eliott added as he examined every angle of the costume. You laughed, pride swelling in your chest. “I am lucky enough to have managed to do this much in only three days, well four if you count that one time I pulled an all nighter to finish the pants.”

Rollo stayed quiet, his eyes scanning the outfit with sharp interest. He circled the mannequin in the middle of your room, like an inspector checking for any flaws. You watched him carefully, eyes focused on his face in order to see if his poker expression changes.

“Well done.” Then, stepping next to you, Rollo grabs your hand and inspects your bandaged fingers with a small grimace. You smile, even more happy with the result of your hard work. “Don’t worry about my fingers. I mostly used the sewing machine for the harder parts. The only time I used my fingers was when I needed to add last minute details.” Rollo gives you an unamused expression.

But he didn’t let go of your hand, and instead, tangled your fingers together. Smiling, you squeeze his hand and turn to face your masterpiece. “All I need to do is finish the hat which will be the hardest part but I will be done with it before the day of the ball.”

“Then take a break, you spend most of your day shut in this room trying to finish.” Said Rollo, eyes eyeing you with fondness. “Rich coming from you, I can hardly pull you out of your dark cave to get more sun.” You said back, a small smirk on your face. Eliott snorts, flipping another page in his book. “True, but you'd be surprised how often he has been outside this past week. Even more than you do on a daily basis.”

Jules hums in agreement, the typing of his boardkeys echoing in your room. “Even taking up a hobby in gardening.” At this, you turn to face Rollo. “Is that true?” You asked. Rollo covers his face with his purple handkerchief, but you could see his ears turn pink. “I decided to take up a destresser as you call it, when I need to distract myself from my duties.”

“Aww, how cute of you president!” And just like that, all hell broke loose. Eliott began teasing Rollo, his book long forgotten. Jules was trying to (and failing) to hold in his laughter. You joined in, poking Rollo’s chest as you giggled. In the safety of your room, the four of you could let loose. Rollo didn’t have to keep his image of a perfect student, Eliott would let his wild side out, Jules could laugh out loud without being scolded, and you could join in the fun.

It hadn’t always been like this, and from what you knew, Rollo hadn’t even been close to Jules and Eliott until recently. Some of the students said it was because you put them together, others said it was because they finally had a reason to actually be around each other with no school work or duties behind them. Either way, you didn’t care.

As long as you could see your friends happy and healthy, it was enough for you.

____

Folding the paper gently and with great care, you then placed it in the envelope and handed it to Rollo so he could seal it with the school’s official seal. The fire from the fireplace illuminated the room, casting a warm glow into the table both of you were sitting at. After spending most of your afternoon in your room discussing plans for the Masquerade along with your friends offering some tips for the costume you were making, the four of you decided to go your own way and finish any remaining work you had.

Jules went to give the full report to the Headmage regarding the room bookings for the guest while Eliott made sure that the supplies ordered for every guest had arrived and placed where they were meant to be. You on the other hand decided to take a break from sowing and accompanied Rollo to the student council office to help him finish off any last paper work.

“Can’t believe I managed to write a letter for royalty. Man, that would make an excellent addition to my resume.” You said with a small laugh. Rollo simply shakes his head in mock agitation, a little smile on his lips. Placing the now finished letter on the table to allow the wax to cool down, he turned to look at you.

“Are you going to participate in the opening ceremony to welcome our guest?” He asks, green eyes on your figure. “Yes, since I am part of the Equestrian club, I will be doing a small show as the closing ceremony with a few of my clubmates.”

On top of helping Rollo with his duties, you had to also take care of yours regarding the Masquerade. Every student in NBC was required to participate one way or another in the festivities being held in the city. Whether it was welcoming guests, helping the traffic of people, selling food, or helping with the ball preparations, everyone had a part to play.

The ones in charge of the entertainment were those of the fine arts clubs but once in a while a sports team will join in. It just so happened that this year was the Equestrian Club’s turn to participate in the entertainment.

Lucky you, you managed to form a great bond with your horse, a beautiful black stallion by the name of Snowflake. “I remember when you first joined the club, you hardly knew how to mount a horse.” Rollo hums in amusement of the memory. You roll your eyes, expression soft. “Yeah, well all the other clubs didn’t appeal to me and while fashion is something I am interested in, it isn’t something I saw myself do for all three years here.”

Plus, the main reason you had wanted to join the club was because of Rollo. But you would never admit that, lord knows Eliott would never let you live it down.

“And plus, I was interested in horse riding and the poster for the club clearly stated that they could teach me if I had zero experience.” Still, it was a little embarrassing being watched by Rollo as you tried to mount a horse only to fail miserably. Rollo chuckles, shaking his head. “You were lucky that Snowflake took a quick liking to you, only the Great seven would have known what would have happened to you if he decided to take you down.”

“In my defense, no one had warned me about Snowflake’s rather temperamental moods.”

“I gave you instructions to wait while I fetch the stable boy.”

The room became silent except for the crackling of the fire.

“Ok, I might have not paid as much attention to your words as I needed to. But! There was no warning sign indicating that Snowflake was not ready to have a rider.”

“There was a clear warning sign on his stable door written in bold red letters.”

Once again, the room became quiet.

With a huff you surrender. “Fine, I ignored all the warning signs! But who could blame me! I was amazed by Snowflake’s beauty!” It had been the first time you had seen a horse up close, especially one so beautiful. You wanted to see if it was easy riding one like in TV shows and movies. Clearly, it hadn’t as you couldn’t even mount him without falling.

“And you made it look so easy to climb one.” You added a pointed look towards Rollo. “I had formed a bond with Snowball since my first year. And even if I don’t ride her as often, she still remains the same.” Snowball is the name of Rollo’s horse. A black, beautiful and elegant mare who also happened to be Snowflake's sister.

“Yeah, yeah, brag all you want Mr. President.” Laughing, you stretched your limbs, a satisfying pop was heard after. “Man, all those preparations for the Masquerade are tiring. Especially the performance I have to do with Snowflake.”

Snowflake had been hard to tame for the most part, he was stubborn and seemed to have a personality of his own. It had been hard trying to get him to understand most of the tricks but you made it work after two months of working with him. Still, he was rather shy when it came to performing in front of people, which was why when it came to performances you would ride Snowball with Rollo’s permission.

But this time you decided not to, you wanted to give Snowflake a chance. Even if getting him used to performing for a crowd was hard, you managed to get him out of his stage fright little by little by having other students observe while you practiced.

“How far along are you with the performance? I heard from the club president that you will be performing with a group first then by yourself.” Rollo said as he stood up from his chair and began preparing some tea on the small portable stove. You sigh and lean back into your chair. “It’s been nerve wracking if I’m being honest. I am used to having peoples’ eyes on me but doing something I enjoy while being watched is another thing.”

You could handle being judged on your so-called other talents, but this one was something you loved to do other than fashion. You wanted to show everyone in the city an amazing performance, one that will make your school proud to have you as a student.

“You will do well, I have seen you do both of your performances and they are flawless. Much better than when you first started, that is for sure.” He said as he placed a steaming cup of tea in front of you. You said a small thanks and took a sip after blowing on it. Then paused and turned to look at him. “Were you there to watch me practice those few times?”

You didn’t recall if Rollo ever showed up to your practices since they always started around the time he needed to go to the student council after school meetings. Maybe he managed to get a peek on his way to the Bell Tower?

“Eliott took several videos and sent them to me. I have to say [name], I never thought I would see someone fall and land on their legs like a scared cat after attempting the first part of the routine.”

You felt your face burning in embarrassment, “That was one time!” You placed the cup of tea down while trying to cover your face with your hands. “I didn’t think you would see that!”

“Well you can thank Eliott, he is the one who sends me the videos.”

“Of course it was Eliott,” Gritting your teeth, you grumble in misery. Can’t believe Eliott would betray your trust like that, especially when he knew about your crush on Rollo. At that, you paused your pity party, eyes widened in shock.

Crush…?

“If it makes you feel better, he also sent me the ones where you perform excellently and without an issue.” His voice sounded like it was underwater. You still had your mind stuck on the fact that you just realized now that you had a crush on Rollo. Was that why Eliott always teased you about spending time alone with the third year? Or why he would make an effort to make sure Rollo and you ended up alone in the same room?

The blush on your face turned even hotter, you were sure your ears had turned a bright shade of red. There was no way you had feelings for Rollo other than friendship, right? But then, why did you get so flustered when he praised you? Eliott and Jules always do it and yet you never got like that with them.

How about the times Rollo would accompany you early in the morning and late at night for a walk before going your own ways? You honestly thought that little flip your heart did was because you got to hang out with him as friends.

And those moments where he would teach you how to ride your horse, he pressed behind you as he taught you how to handle the reins. The way his chest was pressed on your back, his voice deep and low in your ear as he leaned his chin towards your shoulder. Or how his cool skin would touch your clammy one whenever you got nervous.

“Are you alright [name]?”

Looking at him, you gazed into his piercing green eyes and yep, you were definitely a goner. Because how could anyone not fall for those beautiful eyes of his? Gulping, you gave him a shaky smile, “Guess I will have to kick Eliott’s ass next time I see him.”

Raising a pale eyebrow, Rollo just shakes his head in exasperation. “Language, truly, what am I going to do with the both of you?” He asked, but there was not an ounce of annoyance in his tone or face. Simple joy that was barely visible in his face if you looked hard enough. Giggling, you nod, a tender smile on your lips as you gazed at the boy who had managed to capture your heart in such a short amount of time.

#twisted wonderland #twst x y/n #twst x reader #twst wonderland #rollo flamm x reader #twst rollo x reader #rollo twisted wonderland #rollo x reader #twst fluff #twst grim #twst yuu #twst malleus #twst masquerade #twst oc #twst nbc #noble bell college

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loiladadiani · 1 year

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Gatchina Palace

The House Where Nicholas II Grew Up.

Gatchina Palace, located about twenty-five miles from Saint Petersburg, was built by Catherine the Great for her favorite, Count Grigory Orlov. When Orlov died, Catherine bought the estate from his heirs and gave it to her son Paul. Gatchina would go on to become Paul's favorite residence. He arranged everything to his taste.

When Paul died, the Romanovs continued to use Gatchina. Nicholas I and his consort loved to hunt and relax at Gatchina. Alexander II liked to conduct state affairs while hunting at Gatchina. After the assassination of his father, his advisors told Alexander III that he would be safer at Gatchina than at the Winter Palace. Alexander III spent most of his life at Gatchina Palace. He signed decrees and held diplomatic receptions, theatrical performances, masquerades, costumed balls, and other events and entertainment. Alexander III introduced technological modernizations new to Russia at the Gatchina Palace, such as indoor heaters, electric lights, a telephone network, non-freezing water pipes, and a modern sewage system. His children, including the future Tsar Nicholas II, spent their youth at Gatchina Palace.

Alexander III and his family stayed in the Arsenal Wing; they did not inhabit the luxurious spaces used for official business; the rooms they used for daily life had low ceilings and were small. In December 1844, after the Court had spent two long autumn months in the Gatchina Palace, the Emperor signed a decree ordering to rebuild the Kitchen Wing. Reconstruction of the Arsenal Wing began in 1846.

Gatchina became famous for its paintings, sculptures, furniture, and fine china collection. Gatchina lost a large part of its treasure during the revolution and another part when the palace was looted and badly damaged by the Nazis during WWII. Restoration work on the palace's interiors continues to this day.

#Gatchina Palace #Alexander III #Paul I #Romanov dynasty #Imperial Russia #historical places

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lingy910y · 10 months

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Weekly Tag Wednesday 🎄🎁

thanks @deedala and @energievie for the weekly reminder that it’s already wednesday 😭

favorite nickname you’ve ever been given: hmm lingu <3 it’s not rly a real nickname cause it’s just adding sounds to the back of names but the way my friend uses it is cute 💀

where are you located? ny

what season is it where you are now? winter brrr

favorite tradition this time of year: fandom events (masquerade event save me…gallacrafts save me…galladrabbles save me…)

favorite holiday food: idk, maybe udon cause we go to restaurants during the holidays or eat them at home and it always feels like a big deal 😌

mulled wine, eggnog, or hot apple cider? hot apple cider 🤔

turkey, ham, or nut roast? turkey ig

would you rather spend the december holidays in: a cabin in the woods surrounded by snow, or a house on the beach with sun and sand? 🏖

are you pro-snow or anti-snow? more anti-snow but i’m not a hater

have you ever built a snowman? tried and failed

skiing or snowboarding? never tried either, but i wouldn’t mind learning

do you decorate for the holidays? a little

favorite holiday movie? elf

favorite holiday fanfic? not shamey but i remember reading this the entire time i was on a trip <3<3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/32997163

if you were to star in a holiday movie, who would be your love interest? where would it take place? my crush from elementary school for unresolved reasons 🗿 school reunion cause it kept appearing in my dreams

ok tagging @softmick, @krystallouwho, @mmmichyyy, @michellemisfit, @lupeloto, @jademickian, @vintagelacerosette, @heymrspatel, @sleepyfacetoughguy, @juliakayyy, @tanktopgallavich & @juliakayyy ⛄️❄️

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seoulessrp · 10 months

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IT'S THE MOST WONDERFUL TIME OF THE YEAR ❄️

It’s that time of the year, folks! While we know it’s a busy time for most; we also want to keep you entertained around here! We do have a few things planned for the month of December. As stated before, you do not have to complete all of these. Just whichever you feel like doing, and have the time for!

WINTER GALA : December 18th - location: seoul 📍

roleplay dates: december 11 - 25 (or until end of year) theme: winter masquerade live music + open bar

PLAYLIST CHALLENGE: December 2nd - January 31st

select songs that explain in detail what your muse feels. dedicate a song to friends, loved ones, or share your muses story through music. be as creative as you can with this! reblog music on tumblr, post your playlist on spotify or apple music, create a mixed album (something like this!) or any other creative way!

WRITING CHALLENGE: December 2nd - January 31st

OPTION ONE: love language - dive deep into your muses love language. don't know what love language means? click here. don't have an idea of what theirs can be? take this quiz! after you get that sorted out, then let us know! you can show us your results or write a solo thread of them taking the test. there's no right or wrong way to this.

OPTION TWO: what's your wish? - as the new year approaches, we would love to know what goal your muse has. what they wish for. what's troubling their mind. what do they hope for 2024?

Feel free to stretch the dates by a tad. We wish you a wonderful month! We'll start the year with a trip, but stay tuned for that!

#seoulessadmin

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kadavernagh · 1 year

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TIMING: When the Blue Moon was in full swing LOCATION: The Common PARTIES: Winter and Regan SUMMARY: Overwhelmed by their respective supernatural senses, Winter and Regan lean on each other for help. Neither of them are thrilled.

It started off as nothing too out of the ordinary. Random words and whispers were heard now and again causing Winter to look around her surroundings with a curiosity that would never be satiated. But as time passed more and more occurrences started happening. Out of nowhere she would hear full on conversations or rants that wouldn’t stop, sometimes these conversations overlapping with others. She would frantically look around in hopes of finding a source but one never seemed to come and things only seemed to grow worse. Flashes of ghosts she hadn’t been able to see before would suddenly pop up in front of her only to disappear again as if they were playing tricks or trying to scare her to death.

The sudden appearances along with the multiple conversations going on in her head was becoming too much for her to handle. Pain was starting to set in, a dull ache that only seemed to multiply while mixing in with the various voices running through her mind. It was making everything harder in the long run. She was running into people as she tried to make her way back to her hotel room, stopping now and again to close her eyes and try to breathe through one particular screeching rant that she couldn’t push away, but it wasn’t long before Winter realized that the closer she got to her hotel the worse the voices became in size and volume.

She had to go another way. The ‘where’ was the problem though. In no shape to drive, there was no way she could make it to best friend’s house and Winter didn’t know anybody else in this town well enough for her to randomly show up at their place. Hell, she didn’t even know where anyone else lived. She had turned herself around though and was working on making her way out of Worm’s Row, through the woods, and into the Downtown area. There was no telling how long the medium had been walking trying to find some sort of salvation before she just couldn’t anymore.

The Commons ended up being her resting place, a bench right near the edge of the park to be exact. Winter stumbled onto the seat and bent over, her elbows resting on her knees while she buried her face in her hands. “Leave me alone.” She whispered the words first, the voices only becoming more prominent as she concentrated on them more, making her repeat her previous words in a much louder tone. “Leave me alone!” Who cares who heard her at this point. She sure didn’t.

Leave me alone!

Distressed as the voice was, it gave Regan something to wrap her thoughts around and pull her free of the thing that had overtaken her. It masqueraded as death, but it couldn’t be. Death would never do this to her. She tried to tighten her focus, knew she needed to find out if someone was being harassed or in danger, but she was being pulled in so many directions. There was a dead shrew two feet below her. A bird plucking a worm from the ground and swallowing it whole. Her brain felt like it was going to ooze down her ear canals. She ran by someone, another someone. For all she knew they were dead. Everything was coated in it. The attack had come suddenly. Just as it had with Beau. She knew what had to be responsible: Siobhan, and every crawling, unsanctioned emotion that came with her.

She followed the voice like it was a string passing through her hands in the dark, all surrounded by labyrinthian death. The bench blurred beneath it. Regan stood, dazed, and needed a moment to get her eyes to accommodate to what was actually in front of her. A woman, though not being harassed. She was alone, actually. Curled in on herself and away from the world. It had been her, right? The one who called out?

“Was someone here?” Regan’s eyes narrowed and she looked around. She barely even saw the woman or the bench. It got lost, swallowed again. Instead her skin went numb and her body felt strange and out of her control, like she was a flayed animal. She felt all of it. There was a deer in the woods behind her, vultures picking off its exposed entrails. A tree next to the bench was dying, trunk overtaken by bulbous galls. She had stepped on an anthill. A scream lapped at the back of her throat but as the world came back into focus, she was able to swallow it down. It should have been far easier. “I – sorry. I’m – little lightheaded. I would like to help. I’m a doctor. What’s wrong?”

A voice cut through all of the others, Winter thinking that it was yet another disembodied person joining in on the fun of driving her mad. She didn’t even bother looking up to find out whether or not she could see this one, instead answering the voice while knowing it would be futile. “Too many here…I just want it to stop.” The medium pressed her face harder into the palms of her hands while rubbing against her forehead. No matter how hard she tried to make it go away Winter couldn’t seem to get them to stop. Focusing on one only seemed to make the others compete to be heard, making things much louder.

It wasn’t until the voice spoke again that she realized it was a lot more distinct than the other ones drifting around her. Something about it was different, making Winter lift her head to come face to face with a woman she didn’t recognize. But she was there. She wasn’t flashing in and out like several other bodies behind her and she was solid. With so much going on though she wanted to be certain. Reaching out, Winter poked her index finger into the woman’s arm to confirm that she was, in fact, standing in front of her.

Solid. Oh, good. Maybe focusing on someone else would help her block out the rest of the noise around her. It shouldn’t be too hard, considering she looked like she was about ready to pass out herself. The doctor needed some attention too. “No offense, but I don’t think you’re the kind of doctor I need right now.” Even with the weakness her massive headache was sending through her body and despite the rasp in her voice from lack of sleep, Winter’s sass was shining through quite nicely. She hadn’t meant to be rude but the girl had never handled pain too well and it was easier for her to not bite back the true meaning behind her words than try to mask it with niceties she wasn’t much known for in the first place. “Maybe you should sit down yourself. You’re not looking so hot.”

“No, probably not.” Regan admitted, though she wasn’t sure the two of them were on the same wavelength. What kind of doctor did the woman think she needed? Probably not a forensic pathologist, but it raised other questions. “Is this some kind of medical emergency?” The urgency of such a matter helped Regan push away a scream as it tried to scale back up her esophagus. The woman, present as she was, flitted in and out of focus, shrouded by the overwhelming death surrounding her, surrounding everything. When Regan could see her clearly, her distress was obvious. Worn and jumpy, her sweat-slicked hair stuck to her temples and her eyes were stretched wide as a rib-spreader.

Regan brought a hand to her forehead and closed her eyes for a moment. Cliodhna would have insisted that this – whatever it was – was an extraordinary gift. It should be received as such. But Regan could not hold it. She trembled on unsteady feet. Several more ants perished, popping off like fireworks in her brain. “I look fine,” Regan hissed, though she knew she didn’t sound fine. People who were actually fine didn’t insist they were fine so emphatically. But banshees were always fine. So why was she not?

“This is not some anxiety or weak-willed panic or –” She paused, glancing over the woman, who still seemed to be trying to shrink into herself as much as humanly possible. And who looked terribly, terribly anxious. Regan’s face fell. Regardless of her relationship with fear and anxiety, this other woman had no such history, and as a physician she ought to be more sympathetic. Or fake it. As much as she could manage, anyway. She never was good with the live ones. Her head swam again as a jogger breezed by, unaware of the ballooning aneurysm in his frontal lobe. Regan steadied herself, hand on the bench. “What’s the matter with you?”

“What?” What was this woman even saying to her? She couldn’t focus long enough to know what she was talking about. Something about anxiety maybe but she knew this wasn’t anxiety. At least not on her end. Had she even been talking about Winter? With the other voices mixing with the woman in front of her it was very easy to get lost in this conversation. Someone, or something, was shouting about a building being torn down while another voice whispered about a photo album she’d lost in the fifties. It was all so strange but she did her best to focus on the doctor, taking in a deep breath as she looked straight at her.

“I’m hearing voices and I don’t know wh-” She stopped, the comments about the building getting shrill enough for her to close her eyes again. It took a second for her to regain her wits, eyes opening to land on the other woman once more. “I don’t know where they’re coming from. They won’t leave me alone but I’m not even sure they’re talking to me specifically.” Was it wise to tell a random stranger that she was hearing things that nobody else could? No, it definitely wasn’t. Especially if this person was a real doctor. But Winter was having a hard time caring right now as people started to flash in and out of reality around the park, one thing she definitely wasn’t mentioning.

“Still think you can help?” For all she knew, the doctor was experiencing the same thing. She looked as unfocused as Winter felt, like she was also hearing these voices that didn’t seem to actually exist. But she watched as someone else flashed in and out right next to them and noticed that the other didn’t flinch like her. So, maybe she could only hear them? Or maybe her issue was a completely separate thing altogether. “What’s wrong with you? You can say you look fine but I don’t see a mirror around here, I’m the one actually looking at you.”

Voices? She was hearing voices. Regan was familiar with that in a couple of different senses, though there weren’t any she could hear right now, real or imagined. She could barely hear her own voice over the sensation of her body tearing in every direction. "I... I don't think I can help with the voices," Regan admitted, her tone softening slightly as she tried to gauge the woman's mental state. "It sounds like you might need to speak to a psychiatrist or a psychologist for that. Hearing voices can be a symptom of various conditions, and they'd be better equipped to assist y–” A sizzling wave washed over her. Bones. There were so many bones buried here. A crow’s coccyx feet away, an entire mouse a couple of feet down, a deer in the copse ahead. They all called to her. She needed them. But they were so numerous, so insistent, that her skin burned with awareness of their presence, and she felt like she was being dragged down to meet them where they lay.

What she could pull out of the chaos was the woman’s reiteration that, actually, Regan didn’t look that fine, and the insult to her stoicism was – ironically – not well-received.

“I am fine.” This time, the word sliced into the air as a high-pitched whistle, and her stomach seized at the lie. A few more bugs beneath Regan’s feet perished, usually imperceptible to her, but now it rocked her. Her eyes darted between the women and the path, where there were fortunately no joggers to stun. At least… she didn’t think so. It was still incredibly hard to focus on anything with death constricting around her. At some point she ended up on the bench rather than using it as a support. When did that happen? She curled her fingers around the wood and became painfully aware that it, too, was dead.

Right. The woman. Regan squinted at her, then her eyes widened as she became better oriented to the living. But death still drummed against her bones. “I’m sorry. Are you – obviously you’re not okay. I’m –” It was not worth another lie, she decided. “It’s like I’m being boiled alive. My skin is burning. I need to get out of here. Somewhere – away from death.” That thought, those words, filled her with shame, and she wasn’t sure if it was her own or her grandmother’s. It was easier to focus on something that was not her problem. “Where do the voices come from? If they’re – I mean, not that I don’t believe – where would you find relief?”

“I don’t need a physiatrist.” Even if she had implied as such earlier, even if she was currently seeing a doctor for such a thing, Winter didn’t like hearing that from anybody much less someone she didn’t even know. But something else was causing the chill in her tone during that simple sentence, something that scared her more than anything that could be crawling through this town: What if she did need one? Hearing voices wasn’t common for her if there wasn’t a ghost around and this had been happening gradually. There was a small part of her that feared her mind was turning on her. But she knew where she was as well. She knew this town had a knack for this sort of thing having already been cursed once. Besides, she wasn’t the only one acting out of sorts here.

The doctor was sitting next to her now, Winter’s eyes locked on her even with Henry trying to get her attention. He was the hardest to look at out of all of them, his image flashing in and out at such a high rate of speed that it made her nauseous so she was doing her best to also ignore the ghost that was attached to her. He was trying to help, she knew that, but he was only making things worse as his voice mixed in with the others.

Her eyes shut again as the high pitched sound overtook all of the other noise, her left ear starting to ring as she brought a hand up to cover it. What in the hell was that? It was new, that’s for sure, but could she rule out this overstimulation of sound being thrown at her from every direction? Whatever it had been though, it had confirmed something for Winter. With her ear ringing the way it was, no sound was reaching it. All of the voices were filtering into her right ear and that told her that this was a physical thing happening to her, not a mental one. Despite her discomfort and the overwhelming need to plug her right ear a sense of relief washed over her. She definitely didn’t need a psychiatrist.

“What?” Had she heard the woman right or was it another disembodied voice? Away from death? Her skin was burning? This was definitely not the same issue that Winter was having but the two of them seemed to be in the same situation despite this. “What do you mean your skin is burning? And what death?” This whole interaction was just causing more confusion than anything and it was doing nothing to help her splitting headache.

Still, something stuck out in her mind. Where would you find relief? She knew the further she got away from the hotel the better things seemed to get. She didn’t know the why of that but it seemed to work so maybe it would help this other woman as well. Winter was so tired of walking but the slight relief she’d gotten earlier as her left ear started ringing was motivation enough to get going. “Just...let's go that way,” she nodded towards the edge of the park as she spoke. “It was getting better the further I went that way.” She got to her feet, jumping slightly when Henry came into view right in front of her face before she reached out a hand towards the other, ignoring him completely once again.

Regan was pretty sure this woman did need a psychiatrist, but so did most of Wicked’s Rest. She kept looking around, staring into nothing, like she was seeing something beyond the perception of others. To Regan, it wasn’t entirely unfamiliar. If she were to look with her asfís bháis, would there be someone or something there, or was the woman really just a run-of-the-mill loon? Even if she was, she was currently Regan’s run-of-the-mill loon. And Regan needed her. She hated being so disgustingly reliant on others; banshees should never have need of others.

They should also never cringe away from death. But the weight of a million decompositions in a million directions was drawing and quartering her where she stood. Regan hadn’t realized she’d done it until she already had: her fingers curled around the woman’s sleeve, seeking out some kind of tether, something that was alive. Looking past the woman, beyond the dead crow and the pesticide-fallen butterflies and flowers snipped off their stems, something pulsed like an inexplicable heartbeat from within a cadaver. She squinted, though she wasn’t sure she was seeing something real. Then she realized, identified what it was. It jutted from the earth at ragged angles, shiny and sharp. The mineral palpitated in an eerie blue glow, even in the daylight, and the faintest possibility of a connection crossed Regan’s mind. Arden and a couple of others had asked her about them, about how they might be affecting people. Could this be…

“You couldn’t possibly understand,” Regan said through gritted teeth, not fully seeing the irony that they each seemed to be living in their own world. Despite it all, she would put the tiniest degree of faith into this mentally infirm human. “It’s wrong right now, too much. Normally I can sense it, feel it. I am connected with it. And it is everywhere, but I don’t –” Her tongue pinned against the roof of her mouth as she tried to think of how to explain it to someone who wasn’t capable of getting it to begin with. “You filter out some of what you sense. You don’t take it all in at once. I do, too. But I can’t.” And she wondered, briefly, if that was the issue this woman was having too, in her own way. What if she was hearing everything? Distant arguments and playing children and every singing bird that Regan knew was eventually going to plummet to its death.

What else was there to do but follow the woman? The light lapping of death around her that previously provided so much comfort had become snapping jaws. Regan couldn’t hold her gaze in one place, and certainly not straight ahead. There were too many things demanding her attention, too many deaths. But it was getting easier; slowly, gradually, something was lifting and revealing green grass and breathing skin and fluttering leaves where before she could only see what would inevitably happen to it all. The woman froze, and Regan noted her muscles stiffening. Only for a moment, but long enough for Regan to question. “What is it? Did you – what did you see?” Regan tightened her grip on the woman as if they were navigating through a dark room together.

She was telling Winter that she wouldn't understand but almost everything the doctor was saying sounded very familiar to her own situation. Maybe it wasn't exactly the same, maybe they weren't exactly the same, but Winter knew that somehow she could understand what was going on with her. And the doctor explaining what was going on hit the medium like a ton of bricks. Not being able to filter out certain senses, seeing and hearing these people everywhere she went even without a physical presence near her...It had to be the ghosts. Ashamed that it had taken her so long to realize it, she shook her head softly so that she wouldn't make it hurt even further while she worked out this realization in her mind. The voices were physical, the images of people who were definitely not alive were flashing around her, Henry was doing the same...she felt so stupid. Her only defense was that she couldn't think properly while in this state of mind.

But did that mean the woman next to her could see them too? She had said something about her skin burning and Winter had never once experienced anything like that nor had Lil told her of such a thing so she didn't think their abilities were the same...but it did sound like this woman had other abilities of her own. “I may not understand what you're going through personally but I understand not being able to filter certain things out.“ She looked around, the medium taking a deep breath while she tried to focus on one thing at a time. Somehow it was getting easier to do so, this only reinforcing what the medium hypothesized. The further she got away from Worm Row, the better. ”What exactly is overwhelming you right now?“ Maybe in some way Winter could help. She wasn't sure how she could when she was fighting her own battle but if they worked together that was better than them trying to figure this out alone, right?

”Remember how you said that I wouldn't understand?“ She gave the other woman a pointed look, showing her disapproval and at the same time showcasing how petty she could be when she wasn't fighting back against the rolling of her stomach. ”I don't think you would either.“ This woman already thought she needed a psychiatrist, she would think that Winter needed to be heavily medicated if she said she was hearing the ghosts from around town. Still, as the medium started to notice more and more of the voices being silenced she couldn't quite hold her tongue, the sound of her own voice not being drowned out by the shrieks of what she now assumed to be ghosts anymore.

”It was a ghost. I think it was a ghost.“ It wasn't like she kept her abilities a secret anyway. Even before she could see them she was screaming about her talents to everyone that would watch Spirit Speak so she couldn't hide it from anyone even if she wanted to. Winter wasn't ashamed of who she was though, especially now that she was certain this wasn’t a breakdown she was having after the stress of this town had hit her, and if people thought she was crazy for even suggesting ghosts were a thing then that was their problem. Besides, this woman had something of her own going on, that much was obvious. That would make it easier for her to believe Winter, right? ”They're flashing in and out...like static on a broken tv. I think that's what I'm hearing too now that you said something about not filtering out what I can sense. Are you seeing them as well?“

Ghosts. Regan had heard plenty about ghosts. The others constantly spoke of them, claimed to see them, hear them, but what they thought to be ghosts, Regan preferred to think of in less fantastical terms: strange, spectral post-mortem artifacts that most couldn’t perceive. Some jumble of words that probably meant more or less the same thing but that she did not feel was so distasteful the word needed to be scraped off her tongue. Ghosts were plucked from horror movies and Stephen King novels. This was real life. This woman was not the first in town who believed them to be real, and Regan knew she wouldn’t be the last. But the real question was, was she referring to what Regan could see, too, or was she really just a common loon like she suspected earlier? For now, Regan would need to live with not knowing. She was not going to scare the woman by calling upon her asfís bháis. She was shaken enough. Both of them were.

The Ballard child claimed to have seen ghosts, even without the type of death vision Regan was familiar with. Perhaps this woman was the same.

Whatever the case, something seemed to click for the woman. Before, Regan wouldn’t have noticed. But as they got further away from the park’s center, filtering was becoming easier; life returned to the world, even if it was more faint than usual. She looked down, embarrassed, and peeled her hand away from the woman’s sleeve like it had never actually been hooked around it to begin with – it was imagined, obviously. A disgusted look crossed her face for a moment, lip curled. “Bás glac chugam,” Regan muttered, distancing herself. “Perhaps if I attempted to, I could see what you’re referring to.” But she had enough problems of her own right now. Her eyes shifted around from building to building as she realized they had fully made their way out of the park. Death still pulsed around her, but it did not pull her away from everything else. And, now that crisis had been averted, she was not pleased she had made the admissions she already had.

“You seem better oriented now.” And Regan felt similarly. “Has it improved? This… static? Has this ever happened to you before? I have never – it has never struck me in such a way. It betrayed me. I have failed my calling and it let me know.” Her fingers clenched into tight fists. “Are you a failure, too? Is that what this is?” She looked past the women, into town. The source of her growing failures. She could escape them no more than she could really escape death. Slowly, she looked back at the woman – who, Regan now saw, seemed exhausted to her very bones, like she had fought off an invisible goliath. “If you’ve recovered adequately, then you are dismissed. But if you require assistance… I would be willing to help.”

With the disembodied voices starting to dull enough for Winter to focus on her surroundings more, she became hyper aware of the other's hand wrapped around her arm just before the woman dropped it, as if the medium's skin was the one burning her this time. The disgust in the other’s voice was almost offensive to her but she didn't care enough about her to feel as such. Besides, there was enough to work through already between the two of them having similar ailments. She wasn't seeing what Winter was seeing, that was clear. Unless this doctor was trying to save face and not allow Winter to know more about what was going on with her in the first place, she wasn't getting the flashes of the dead or hearing them wail about unimportant things. Her previous claims of what had been happening to her didn't quite match up. Still, who was she to assume that whatever was happening to them would affect them the same if the doctor was a medium herself? She barely knew anything about what she was, much less how much she could do with her third eye.

The barrage of questions from the doctor had Winter cutting her eyes towards the woman once again, not amused. She already had a headache, there was no need to make it worse. Then again, she had questions herself and it was only fair to share information if she wanted the same to be reciprocated. Hopefully she would feel the same. “It's better, yes.” Not completely gone but not as loud as it had been before they'd gotten away from the park. This seemed to happen though. Winter would get to a point where she thought things were good and then all hell would break loose around her. She was waiting for the other shoe to drop. “No, it's never happened before.” But she also hadn't been able to see ghosts for very long. Was this a normal thing mediums had to go through? “Usually they show up out of the blue but they've never spoken to me without me being able to see them. And they've never looked like this before.”

And she thought she could be rude. A failure? How dare she assume such a thing. Winter was anything but a failure, she refused to let any such thing happen. Achieving her goals, doing what it took to reach them, her pride stood in the way of the failure that threatened to seep in and take it away from her. Still, knowing that something wasn't right with this person and wanting to get information out of her, it wasn't prudent for her to go off the rails. “What do you mean you've failed your calling? I don't think I have. How would I have failed it?“

Dismissed. Wow, she really was a piece of work, wasn't she? Winter wasn't some house maid that was being sent home for the day, she was a woman who had been in trouble and was also trying to help another who'd been in trouble. ”I'm feeling better...but I still have questions. If you'd rather meet up another time to discuss them then I wouldn't protest that. Especially since we’re both still dealing with whatever is going on.”

Death’s clouds had parted, and Regan could now fully see the woman in front of her for what she was: someone deeply confused who had been betrayed by their own mind yet managed to piece together enough to steer both of them toward sanctuary. She did not trust her. But Regan could not deny that her presence here had been useful, and her account of what happened held value. “It is as if your typical experiences have been amplified,” Regan remarked with some understanding, though she still didn’t quite grasp what the woman was referring to. “I don’t know. You tell me. Are you a disappointment to your kind, a stain on the tapestry of Fate?” Regan lifted a brow. “I am.”

“Questions?” Regan snapped. She could hardly believe her ears. “What right do you have to answers? You think you’re being gracious in saving them for another time, when the reality is that I don’t owe you anything at all.” But… was that true? The woman had helped Regan navigate out of whatever epicenter she’d managed to get lost in. Had she not been there, Regan might’ve just languished under the weight of a thousand deaths in the middle of the park for centuries. The thought made a shudder creep down her vertebrae, exaggerated though it probably was, and she crossed her arms with a huff. Even Cliodhna would have acknowledged that a good turn should be returned, though she never would have found herself in such a vulnerable position to begin with. Cliodhna did not know what the word vulnerable meant. “Fine. Perhaps I do owe you something. Or we can arrange a trade. Answers for answers.” She certainly had some questions of her own. “Here.” She fished a business card from her pocket and handed it to the woman, a bit begrudgingly. “You now know where to find me.”

Her body had urged her forward before, but now that the threat (threat, like death was a threat to her) had passed, she realized how weary her bones felt. Maybe it was time to go. Regan gave her one last glance, mouth flattening into a firm line, before giving an abrupt wave. “When you see me, we will figure out how you have failed. Then we might understand.”

#c winter #writing

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memento-morri-writes · 10 months

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Happy World Building Wednesday!

We're approaching that time, so does your work have any kind of solstice festival? Or New Year's festival? What are the traditions?

Hi TC! Thanks for the ask! This is actually a really good question!!

So, in the world of ATQH, there are a few different festivals that take place every year. The ones that I mention in the story are:

Midsummer / Summer Solstice (relatively similar to Midsummer in the real world), which happens on a date equivalent to June 21st.

Harvest Festival (somewhat analogous to "OctoberFest"if your location has such a thing. But also has some elements of Halloween and Thanksgiving mixed in.) which happens on a date equivalent to October 31st.

Winter Solstice (somewhat equivalent to a combo Christmas and New Year's, but doesn't have religious origins), which happens on a date equivalent to December 21st.

Midwinter, which happens on a date equivalent to February 21st.

I'll talk about the traditions for each under the cut, since I worry this is going to get rather long. (I'm focusing on Anvia and Anvia's traditions and celebrations, since that is where the story takes place, and if I were to talk about traditions and holidays in Oraine and Oryn, we'd be here til next year.)

Midsummer / Summer Solstice

Most commonly referred to as just "Midsummer", this is generally a very cheerful and happy festival, held to celebrate the longest day of the year. The celebration involves feasting and dancing. Small towns or villages will have one massive town feast where they put tables outside and everyone is invited. Larger towns will have more concentrated or divided celebrations, kind of like block parties, I guess. In rural areas, it's traditional to light a bonfire when it gets dark out. Music and dancing is a huge part of the tradition, and there's usually nonstop music from the time the party starts until it's end.

Floral decorations are very common, as well as bright and colorful fabrics. It's common to see houses with colorful ribbons hanging from their eaves, or wrapped around fences. It's generally considered a bad idea to wear dark and dour clothing to a Midsummer celebration, since it is a celebration of life and growth. Colors like yellow, green, as well as floral colors like light pinks, purples, or blues are most common.

At the Palace, there's always a ball held on Midsummer, with a feast held before it. The general air is a bit more formal, as it always is when royalty and nobles are involved, but the air of joy and celebration remains.

Harvest Festival

Harvest festival happens at the very end of the harvest season, once every crop has been harvested. It is also celebrated with a feast, with every farmer in a village donating a portion of their harvest to the meal. Ale is also a common part of the celebration, as well as perhaps wine among the more "upper class" folks. Less dancing for the common folk for this one, and more of just a celebration of being together. (Though dancing is still likely to happen.) A person is liable to have at least one drunk relative crashing at your place by the end of the day, which can be good or bad, depending on the relative.

It's a celebration of being thankful that the harvest has been successful, and marks the end of the harvest season and the beginning of preparations for winter. Decorations include taking down your scarecrows and dressing them up in silly clothing, as well as using excess produce you are unable to preserve as decorations. (Some things like gourds, pumpkins, etc. will be carved for decorations.) Extra animals that might not survive the winter or would be too expensive to feed are killed and prepared as food for the feast. The idea is that as little should go to waste as possible. If it cannot be saved or preserved for winter, then it will be used for for the harvest festival in some way.

Every year, the Palace holds a masquerade ball for the Harvest festival. The exact origins of the reasoning for the masquerade are uncertain, but this tradition has been ongoing for at least a century at this point, and it's a beloved tradition.

Winter Solstice

Winter solstice takes place near the end of the year, on the shortest day of the year, and is somewhat of a combination between Christmas and New Years in our world, I suppose. It is traditional to exchange gifts with loved ones on the Solstice. It is also traditional to light candles as the sun begins to set, and at the end of the night, around midnight, each person blows out their candle and makes a wish.

It's a celebration of looking back at the year, reflecting on what has happened, and having hopes for the future. It's also general a more cozy and relaxed holiday, in comparison to the potentially raucous or overwhelming celebrations of Midsummer or Harvest.

Aside from the candles, traditional decorations include winter-growing plants. Another tradition is the making and eating of Solstice Cookies, which come in many shapes, and are usually elaborately decorated. (However one of the most common shapes is that of a stylized sun.)

Midwinter

Midwinter happens early in the new year, at the point when the worst of winter is supposed to have passed. It's a celebration of having made it through the worst of it, and that spring will soon be here. (Its origins are among farmers, relieved to have had enough stores for the winter, and that their animals have survived, etc.) It's one of the smaller celebrations of the bunch, with the least defined traditions. But it's generally a very happy and positive celebration.

While each individual family might celebrate it in their own way, the Palace traditionally holds a ball on Midwinter. In rural areas, people might pull out the best of the food they have, or splurge and bake a cake or other fancy dessert.

(Side note: While Midwinter isn't a very defined holiday in terms of traditions, it's probably the most important one in my story, seeing as it's the night that Lavinia attacks Fallon...)

#tc-doherty #morrigan replies #wbw #wbw asks #worldbuilding wednesday #worldbuilding #wip: atqh #atqh: worldbuilding

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the12thnightproject · 1 year

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Chapter 44: Full Circle. As they head toward Togakushi to (hopefully) greet Shingen, Katsu discovers an odd connection with her modern life and Yukimura's.

And Chapter 45: Shingen's POV - Missing Person - Checking in with Shingen on the other side.

Shingen x OC; Kenshin x MC (Mai)

Previous Chapter: Here

Logline - Disguised as a boy, Katsuko finds herself working for Shingen, but her dangerous masquerade becomes difficult to sustain when she falls for the man with a fatal secret.

We stayed several weeks with Toshiie, which, among other things, allowed my brother and I to celebrate our birthday together. But once the weather changed from Autumn to almost-winter, we took our leave, with hugs and good wishes from Hana, one last ‘Uki’ piggyback ride for Nao, and promises to Toshiie that I would return as soon as I was able.

I gave Toshiie directions to Kasugayama as well as Aki’s house on the mountain in case he needed to get in touch with me. “Where will you be – I mean… which place? I don’t want to lose track of you now that we’ve found each other again.”

“I’ll let you know.” I couldn’t make any decisions or plans until after the wormhole opened at Togakushi. “There’s also a bookseller in Azuchi where you can always leave a message that will find me.” I gave him the location of that as well. That would be the most convenient for him since Azuchi was so much closer to Ikuno than the other two locations.

One last bro-slap between Yuki and Tosh, and one last long hug between my brother and I, then we were off. “See you soon!” he yelled after us. Tosh still hates saying goodbye.

As we made our way out of the town, Yuki gave me one of his suspicious side-eye glares.

“What?” I hoped he wasn’t going to question all the sly glances and eyebrow raises Toshiie had been unsubtly deploying. If he did, I was going to ruthlessly shit talk my twin and claim it was a tic.

“Bookseller. Azuchi. I knew I’d met you before. You were the old man who spied on me.” He punched my shoulder. “What the hell were you doing there?”

“I wasn’t spying on you… or anyone… exactly. It’s a long story.” Although I supposed we had plenty of time.

The journey to Togakushi took a week – which was faster than I had anticipated – as I had been worried we would be delayed by early winter storms when we got into the mountains. We had so much extra time that Yuki suggested we spend the night in his castle, which was less than a day’s ride from the shrine.

“I didn’t know you had a castle.” I tried and failed to picture Yuki as a Kenshin-like lord of a castle. “Of course, you should visit it.”

“Thanks. Except I shouldn’t thank you – I bet there’s a pile of tasks waiting for me,” Yuki said, and further explained that he hadn’t been there in months.

We turned our horses in the direction of what one day would become Nagano. The landscape was both familiar and unfamiliar in a way that felt jarring. Like a puzzle piece that looked like it would fit, until you tried to place it. “I grew up in this area. It still weirds me out, seeing this part of the country without a big city in the middle of it.”

“How big?” We were riding along the banks of the Chikuma River, and I looked around, feeling the displacement in time more vividly than before, especially since this was close to where I had gone to high school… years that I definitely had not enjoyed (hence the truancy to go snowboarding whenever I could get away with it).

“Um, I guess something like three hundred and seventy-five thousand people? So not huge, but bigger than a village.” I shrugged. “It seemed like a lot of people when I was growing up, but the first time I visited Tokyo, I realized it wasn’t that much, comparatively.”

Yukimura paused and looked out at the mountains in the distance, and the war damaged land in between. “I don’t know whether to be glad that the area came back from this, but that many people is kind of… well, it’s a lot… And this… Tokyo is bigger?”

“A hundred times bigger, I think. Tokyo – well in this era, it’s Edo, but in my time, it’s one of the biggest cities in the world. Maybe the biggest? I’m not sure.” The few times I had visited, it had seemed too big to me. But I had always been one to prefer outdoor spaces. “Maybe I shouldn’t be giving you all this information about the future.”

“Eh, I don’t know what I’d do with it anyway. It won’t change the way I live.” He turned his horse northward, and I got a good look at the building on the hill overlooking the river.

“Ueda Castle? Your castle is Ueda castle?” Had I known that? I should have known that. Not only should I have paid attention in school, I should have paid attention to it. Or, technically, I guess I hadn’t connected the Yuki I knew with the Sanada clan of Ueda castle.

“Yeah… why? Is it still there in your time?” He grinned at me. “I like the idea of it lasting that long.”

“Parts of it have been reconstructed… but yes, it’s still there. It’s a school now. It’s where I went to school.” I laughed suddenly. “I should leave a note for my bratty fifteen-year-old self to find.”

“A school? That’s really great. I mean, if it was no longer needed for defense… yeah… a school.” Yukimura smiled, then pointed to the castle gates. “Race you!”

Yuki was mobbed when he made his unexpected appearance, not only by vassals with issues he needed to solve! Right! That! Instant!, but also from people who were plain old happy to see him. I felt guilty that he’d had to spend so much time escorting me across the country, but when I tried to apologize, he’d gotten all bristly. “Stop that. I wouldn’t have been here either. I’d have stayed in Kasugayama.”

As soon as he crossed the threshold, he was borne off to his main audience room to deal with those urgent issues, so I followed a maid to the guest quarters, then used the bathhouse to clean the week’s travel off me.

After I cleaned up, I took some time to wander through the castle’s garden. Over the past couple of months, I’d had very little alone time, both a blessing and a curse. No time alone meant no time for dwelling on what I was going to say to Shingen when (not if) we were reunited. My time with Toshiie had given me some perspective on my feelings and behavior, but the dreaded worries were returning and I needed to be away from other people to drop the masks I’d been wearing during all of my interactions.

The garden in Ueda Castle allowed me that time and space. I spent an hour or so with my eyes closed and my face turned up to the sun. How do you apologize for something you would do again? I was sorry for how things had played out, but if modern medicine cured him, I would be happy. If it didn’t… then I’d robbed myself of time spent with him. But until I knew the result, I couldn’t regret. I could only hope.

Beyond the apprehension though, I simply missed him. Everything about him: his wicked smile, easy confidence, vast intelligence, and that way he could walk into any situation and know what to do. I missed the way he’d always had of making me feel smart and valued and cherished.

In a day – presuming Sasuke’s theories of time travel were correct – that wicked, smart, confident man would be back. What I didn’t know was whether he would still want to make me feel cherished or whether he would never want to talk to me again.

But… if he was alive, and healthy, it would have been worth it.

I stayed in the gardens until the wind became bitter, the sky became dark and my stomach became hangry. No one had come to look for me (possibly no one remembered that I was there), which likely meant that Yukimura was still trapped doing business with his vassals.

After a few wrong turns, I located a kitchen and begged a tray of food, which I then brought to Yuki’s audience chamber. The poor guy was huddled over a stack of reports. And yup… hair was standing in all directions – I imagined he had raked his hands through it multiple times over the day.

“As much as you’ve yelled at Shingen to not push himself, you’re just as bad.” I carried the tray into the room. “Eat.”

He laughed suddenly, sounding half-amused, half-something else I was not able to determine. “You’re always feeding me.”

“I am?” I thought back. Yeah, I had shoved a bowl of rice or a cup of tea at him on more than one occasion. “Huh. Well, maybe that’s a sign you need to pay more attention to mealtime.” I set the tray down at his elbow. “Anyway, you look busy, so I’ll leave you to it, but… eat.”

He nodded and set the paper he was reading aside. In the process, he knocked the chopsticks off the tray. Both of us jumped to catch them before they hit the floor, our hands touching in the process.

Yuki yanked his hand away as if it had been burned, and he resolutely stared at his reports… but not before I had gotten a look at his face.

Shit.

Toshiie had been right.

I set the chopsticks back on the tray. “Eat,” I repeated one last time before leaving the room. There was absolutely nothing I could say that would not make things worse.

Yuki was my friend – and I loved him like a brother. All I could offer him was, as Toshiie had put it, a steady affection. I could imagine what a life with him would be like… and it was not unpleasant… but it was not what I wanted for myself. It was not what I wanted for Yukimura either.

Even if I could envision a life on a different path than the one I had set myself on, a life that even offered a contentment, a life similar to what Toshiie had with Hana, I knew that I would never take a step on that path. I was not my brother, and Yukimura deserved better than to become someone’s Plan B.

The late Autumn blizzard began that night. It was probably heralding the arrival of the wormhole, which obviously enjoyed creeping around in storms. At least the weather gave Yuki and I something to focus on. I didn’t think that Yuki was aware that I had discovered his feelings, and I certainly didn’t want to embarrass him (or me, for that matter) by calling attention to them.

“Damn Fume and her weather forecasting knees.” Ice pelted my face like little stinging arrows. Besides the snow and sleet, it was even thundering.

“Is that another one of your modern expressions?” Yukimura asked. There were icicles hanging off his hat. He broke off one and tossed it away.

“Sadly, no.” I pointed to another mountain off in the distance. “Before I came to Kasugayama, I was based over there. Fume is the chatelaine and claims she can tell months in advance when we’re about to have a bad winter by how much her joints ache. She started foretelling a bad winter as soon as last winter ended.” Actually, she was always claiming we were going to have a bad winter. And we always had a bad winter. I do not think the two were casually related.

“Oh yeah. One of my vassals is the same way.” He paused and glanced over at the mountain. “You didn’t want to visit her?”

“No. First because if we make it up there, there’s no guarantee of getting down again until Spring.” The path to Aki’s manor wasn’t exactly vertical, but it sometimes felt that way. “Also. She hates me.”

“Maybe she’s grumpy because her knees hurt,” Yuki offered.

“No, she actually hates me. She calls me ‘that- “. I pulled Moonlight to a halt, catching sight of what was ahead of us. “Son of a bitch.”

“You’re right. That is mean—Son of a bitch!” Yuki had belatedly seen what was ahead of us.

Right about where Sasuke had predicted the wormhole would open, a group of armed bandits was camped out. Most were carrying swords, but at least two of them had muskets within reach. Maybe more than that… it was hard to tell with the snow slapping me in the face.

“I think this is where I came in.” Bandits armed with muskets – just like the ones who had attacked Shingen, Yukimura and Sasuke this summer.

“Why here?” Yuki asked quietly. “There’s nothing out here but the shrine, and it would be stupid to attack anyone going there.”

“Fate.” Shingen had once said that we can’t fight fate. Was that what this was then? Had I saved him from that first sniper, sent him to the future to be cured, only to put him in the path of another bullet? Because if the wormhole opened up and dumped Shingen and Sasuke here, they would not be expecting an attack.

“I don’t believe in fate. We make our own futures.” Yuki eyed the bandits. “Something else is going on.”

We observed the group for a little while – were they simply camping here coincidentally? Why would you camp on the side of a mountain in a blizzard? Then the apparent leader of the bandits stood up and stretched, twisting to give us a full view of his face.

Iekane.

Of course, it was Iekane.

“Son of a bitch,” I said again. While I otherwise would have welcomed the opportunity to capture him, the timing… sucked. And we needed to get him and the others away from here before the wormhole opened. The sound of thundersnow in the distance was a warning that we didn’t have much time.

Yuki and I retreated a few paces to be sure our voices didn’t carry. “What do you think he’s doing here? Do you think he’s after you?”

“From what he said at Kasugayama, it’s Akihira he has some sort of grudge against, not me. Although I’m sure if he had the opportunity to hurt me, he wouldn’t turn it down.” There was only one path to get to Aki’s home and we were on it. Iekane could be lying in wait for Aki to either come or go. Or potentially, I supposed they could be on their way to attack his manor. It wasn’t all that well defended, as its location in the mountain terrain made it an unattractive prospect. You’d have to be extremely motivated to attack it. For whatever reason, Iekane was extremely motivated, although I never understood why. “Besides, how would he know I’m here?”

It didn’t matter why they were here. They were here, and they were in the way.

Yuki peered through the trees. “There’s not that many of them.” He indicated the cover of trees surrounding the bandits. He nodded at my bow. “How many can you shoot before they take cover?”

“Three. Maybe four if they’re slow.” Obviously, I’d want to take out the ones with the muskets first. “The storm is going to add to the confusion on both sides.”

“Three’s enough.” Yuki said drew his sword. “If I outflank them from the left, I should be able to take care of the rest. I’ll give a signal when I’m in place.”

He sounded confident – and if those were run of the mill bandits, then I’d have the same confidence. But Iekane had trained with Aki, and then for an unknown amount of time with Kenshin, so he was a higher-than-average threat. Still. Yukimura was the commander of the Akazonae. He knew what he was doing. I wasn’t about to insult him by telling him to be careful. “Sounds like a plan.”

Good luck.

We peeled off in opposite directions. As soon as I was able, I climbed into a tree and made my way to the best possible blind. The tree limbs were icy, and twice I nearly slipped off – but Shingen’s often repeated claim aside, I’ve never fallen out of a tree, and I don’t intend to start now. Eventually, I settled against the trunk of a beech tree that overlooked the bandit’s campsite and readied my bow.

The storm intensified, with fat flakes of snow whirling from all directions, making it impossible to see whether Yukimura was in position. While I waited for his signal, I kept my arrow aimed at Iekane.

Unfortunately, with the worst timing known to mankind, one of the bandits decided it was time to take a leak - at least that was my assumption given he had untied his hakama and was already rooting around in there as he headed off to the same shelter of trees where Yuki was hiding.

One bandit wouldn’t have been a problem for Yuki. And he wasn’t. But everyone in the camp was able to hear, “Hey! Who are-” before the words were cut off with a gurgling cry.

Iekane leaped to his feet, just as I sent my first arrow winging his way.

Dammit.

He dove behind a boulder, sending up snow flying in his wake.

As fast as I could, I shot the two gunmen, then aimed at where Iekane was hiding. He’d have to come out sooner or later, to either face me or Yukimura, who came charging out of the trees, sword swinging. While the other bandits converged on Yuki, Iekane grabbed the musket abandoned by his fallen comrade and aimed it at where I was hiding. The storm winds were whipping the tree limbs, alternately revealing, then concealing my position on the branch.

“Kaya! I know you’re up there.” He clamped the fuse on the gun. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to bring an arrow to a gunfight?”

“That’s knife, you dipshit,” I said to myself as I shot two arrows in succession. Once bounced off his armor and he ducked out of the way of the second.

As I reached for another arrow, Iekane pulled the trigger. The shot was low. It missed me, but it hit the branch I was perched upon, weakening it enough for it to break underneath me.

Good thing I know how to safely exit a tree (I’ve had enough practice these days). I tumbled into a snowbank and scrambled to my feet.

Iekane frantically tried to reload and light the fuse, but the snow was coming down hard enough to make that task more difficult than normal.

My bow sadly had not fared so well in the untimely exit from the tree, so I grabbed my sword – this was one time that I had ample motivation to attack. Shingen would be proud of me.

Above us, the clouds were swirling and churning – the wormhole was materializing.

Seeing my weapon, Iekane gave up on the musket and drew his own sword. “You never were very good at this, Kaya.”

“I’ve gotten better.” Kenshin had been killing me all summer. I could now last several minutes against him – and Iekane was not nearly the swordsman Kenshin was. “And my name isn’t Kaya.”

“Katsuhira. You’re the only one he gave his name to.” Iekane advanced on me, sword swinging randomly. I spun and tumbled under several wild lunges, but the strikes that did connect nearly disarmed me. Rage may have lessened his accuracy, but it also increased his strength. He followed up one vicious strike with a spinning kick, that I was barely able to block with my shoulder. Forget rules of combat. I grabbed a handful of icy snow, and hurled it at his face, hoping to temporarily blind him.

“What are you talking about?” I gripped my sword in both hands, hoping to hang on until Iekane tired himself into a mistake that I could take advantage of.

“Iekane. Okitane. Takauji – he named us. I came here with him, and he never treated me like anything more than a student.” He chopped down at me, but I spun out of the way in time.

Behind him, that bank of fog crept closer, a wall of writhing grey, as the wormhole began to form.

I jumped backward a few paces – anything to keep Iekane away from Sasuke and Shingen when they came through.

“So what? He ran out of names. Or he couldn’t bother to get creative when he got to me.” It was getting harder to see, as the wormhole’s fog churned around us. Behind me, I could hear the clanking swords, telling me that Yuki was still holding his own against the remaining number of Iekane’s men.

“Why you? A stupid useless girl, and he treated you like you were his son.” Clearly Iekane had missed out on the conversation where Aki slut shamed me, but… details.

If Sasuke and Shingen were coming… shouldn’t I be able to see or hear them by now? I wasted a valuable second of attention to look for them, just as Iekane whirled out of my blind spot and almost hit the sword out of my hand, slashing my arm in the process.

I felt a sting of pain across my forearm, but I’d learned my lesson and didn’t take my attention off Iekane, even to check myself for serious damage.

He charged again. I repositioned myself and whirled away, finishing that up with a kick right into his stomach. He grunted, nearly doubling over, and I advanced on him—

--sword swinging—

-- pushing forward –

and then in my ears, a worried shout from Yukimura-

“Katsu, dammit, be carefu-”

…as momentum carried Iekane and me into the center of the wormhole.

Grey.

Iekane’s fingers dug into my shoulder. His voice rasped in my ear. “You are indeed stupid, putting me right where I wanted to be.”

Then he flung me away—

Far--

Past the center of the wormhole.

This… this isn’t what I remember… at all.

My world filled with the numbing grey.

Was… I… dissolving?

Chpater 44 - SHINGEN POV CHAPTER – Missing Person

Kyoto, present day…

“Much better, Mr. Takeda. Your FVC and FEV readings are in the normal range for your age and build.” Endo Minori, the respiratory therapist Shingen had been working with for the past few months, examined the spirometer. “I wish all my clients were as faithful with their exercises as you.”

Though Shingen nodded in response – why go to therapy if you weren’t going to do everything in your power to ensure its success – he also acknowledged that restlessness had driven him to it. Learning about the modern world through books and film had been his main activities in the early weeks of his recovery, however as soon as he was feeling more energetic, he’d needed exercise. With Minori’s permission and guidance, he’d added to the assigned rehab activities by taking walks around the city and swimming laps in the University’s pool.

Still, there was only so much he could find to do with his time, especially after Sasuke stopped him from dissecting the furniture and appliances. Shingen had thought that was rather harsh, given that not only had he repaired a too-short leg on the coffee table, but he’d gotten the toilet to work better (once he finally managed to put it back together). It wasn’t as if Sasuke wasn’t used to a lack of running water, given that he’d lived in Kasugayama for four years.

Of course, as soon as Sasuke had left on a trip back to the Sengoku era, Shingen had disassembled and reassembled the toaster, the electric tea kettle, and the shower without any problem. Any leftover hardware… probably was unnecessary. Everything still worked. What Sasuke didn’t know, wouldn’t harm him.

“Mr. Takeda…?” Minori cleared his throat to catch his attention. “I’ve uploaded the next series of exercises to the therapy app – but to be honest, they’re mostly for maintenance at this point.”

“Which means?” His phone chimed, alerting him to the successful upload.

“Your follow-up is complete. Continue these exercises daily… but I see no need for additional outpatient visits. The pulmonologist will want to review your chart, but I expect he’ll concur with my assessment. There’s still some scarring left from the surgery, but no reason to expect you won’t have a long and happy life.” He bowed to Shingen. “Er, at least as long as you look both ways before you cross the street.”

Later, after stopping at the Nishiki Market to pick up dinner, and indeed, looking both ways before he crossed the street, Shingen let himself into Sasuke’s high rise apartment. Three months ago, Sasuke had returned to the Sengoku era via the Togakushi wormhole as planned, intending to meet up with Katsuko and Yukimura. At that time, Shingen had only been out of the hospital a few weeks – he’d been told that in order to recover completely, he would need several months of therapy in the Kyoto rehabilitation clinic.

He toed off his boots, then opened the shoe cupboard and – Sasuke’s shoes were in there. He was back. Shingen stared into the cupboard, looking for - and not finding -shoes that would belong to Katsuko. Shingen had hoped that Sasuke would have found a way to bring her back with him, especially since Sasuke’s route had been through Togakushi.

Maybe… she didn’t want to come?

“Sasuke?” Shingen saw the younger man’s shadow behind the frosted glass bedroom door.

Sasuke slid the door open and peered out. He wore one of those absorbent yukatas and was towel drying his hair. “Lord Shingen. You’re looking… I’m pleased that you’re looking well.”

Though he knew he ought to say welcome home or ask how the treks through the wormhole had gone, Shingen went straight to the one question on his mind. “How’s Katsuko?”

Sasuke gazed at him steadily, but as usual, without any expression to hint at what was going on in his head. “Er… we should sit down. I’m told that is the best way to relay… unwanted information.”

Togakushi Shrine Area: Eight months later...

Another wormhole had materialized, then closed, and still no Katsu. Shingen glanced up at the clearing sky, and wondered, for the thousandth time, if she was in another year, or if Iekane had killed her when they’d tumbled into the wormhole together. Next to him, Sasuke straightened from the tense crouch he’d been holding, and Shingen sensed an apologetic platitude was on the way. To prevent hearing another one, he said, “She’ll figure it out. Or you will. I have faith in both of you.”

Sasuke had been apologizing, and theorizing, for months. The apologies never got any better, although they’d never been worse than the first one… the night when Sasuke had explained that Katsuko had disappeared into the wormhole, and apparently not reappeared anywhere. “I was hoping she and I had unknowingly crossed paths in the wormhole,” his friend had said, “and that she would be here with you. But clearly… that isn’t the case. I’m sorry. Theoretically, she-.”

Shingen had been unable to listen any longer and retreated to the balcony of the apartment. Resting his forearms on the metal railing, he looked at the horizon, wondering if the sky had any answers for him. Sasuke always found answers in the cosmos. But Shingen preferred to simply look for beauty in the night sky and find answers in text. Words had a pattern for him that, in spite of all of Sasuke’s impassioned explanations, the sky didn’t contain.

It’s been over a year…

They hiked back to the parking lot, feet splashing in the puddles left by the storm that accompanied the wormhole. “I’ll go back to the observatory in Nodeyama – maybe there’s something I missed.” Sasuke’s voice broke the silence.

“Sounds good.” But Sasuke never missed anything. Though Shingen didn’t want to give up… wouldn’t give up… he was starting to wonder if they’d be better off going back through to the past at the next opportunity. It was possible that Katsuko had found her way back to the Sengoku era. But what if that simply started them on a cycle of endlessly going back and forth and continuously missing each other?

“I will see you at the hotel tomorrow morning,” Sasuke said, as he climbed into the SUV that he used to haul his astronomy equipment around between Kyoto, Nodeyama, and Nagano.

Shingen nodded. He’d rented a motorcycle to get from Kyoto to Nagano. The experience wasn’t at all like riding a horse, and yet he preferred it to being trapped in a four wheeled box… especially if Sasuke was behind the wheel. The ninja-scientist had many many skills… but driving was not one of them.

Once Sasuke drove away, Shingen was in no hurry to leave, especially not to return to the impersonal hotel suite. He wandered over to a soba restaurant that popped up on his phone mapping app – how quickly he’d become used to these modern shortcuts – and ordered a light snack. He’d timed his entry into the restaurant well – managing to avoid a short rain shower that ended just as he left the restaurant with a takeout order of cold noodles.

He made his way to bench that was sheltered under enough tree cover to have escaped the worst of the recent rain and swiped the rest of the wet off with his hand. After finishing off the noodles and washing the snack down with a cup of tea, he reached in his jacket pocket and pulled out the puzzle box that he carried with him everywhere. He’d long since solved it, but it made him feel closer to Katsuko to keep it within reach. The rote sequence of slides and levers was soothing to him, and he occupied himself by running through the series to open it.

Inside, a length of her hair (by way of Yoshimoto who’d saved it after he’d given Katsu a haircut) and a letter that she’d sent via Sasuke. He didn’t need to open the box to re-read the letter. At this point, he had it memorized. She’d obviously been feeling emotional when she composed the letter, it had a rushed quality to it, as if she’d blurted everything out on the page without taking time to craft something poetic. Somehow, that made the contents feel even more intimate.

Dear Shingen, I hope you are reading this, but I wouldn’t blame you if you threw it away unopened. In which case you are not reading this. Maybe Sasuke will fish it out of the trash and you will read it someday. I know that sending you to the future with Sasuke is against your wishes, and if Sasuke would let me, I would go with you. I guess have gone, because if you are reading this, you’re reading it in the future. I want to be there when you speak with the doctor, be with you whether it is good news or bad, and be by your side while you were treated. I know that was how you wished it too… but I’m scared to wait. No, that’s not exactly true. I once watched someone I loved choose to die a little day by day, and no matter what I did, I could not keep her alive. What I’m afraid of is not being able to keep you alive long enough to get you to a hospital. And you need to live. I can’t tell you what I know exactly, because it might be some kind of time paradox if I do (ask Sasuke, he will explain time paradox), but you do amazing things in your lifetime, things that saved a lot of people’s lives. I don’t know if I’ll ever have the courage to tell you in person, or if I’ll get the chance to, so I’m writing it down here. You are the smartest, kindest, person I know. You made me feel like I mattered, even when I was just Katsu, the “boy” who delivered your messages. You matter to me too. When I’m with you, or even when I’m not with you, you inspire feelings that I never imagined feeling. I love you.

What she hadn’t said in the letter, was that sending him to the future against his wishes had not been her idea, but Yukimura’s. Sasuke had told him that Yuki had initially gone to Kenshin and cooked up this scheme. Only then had they brought it to Sasuke and Katsuko. “She was really torn about the idea… we both were, because in our time, the wishes of the patient are honored. And she was willing to risk coming with us, but I told her that if something happened to her in the wormhole, it could make things worse for you.”

In truth, he had been furious. At her. At Sasuke. At Yuki and Kenshin. The anger hadn’t lasted. Not after a discussion with the doctor who had immediately admitted him to a hospital following a series of tests. “While often we watch and wait benign tumors such as these, yours has already obstructed seventy-five percent of your airway. This in turn is putting stress on your heart and could lead to heart or multi-organ failure.” He didn’t have to understand modern medical terminology to get the gist of that. Though he disagreed with their methods, his lover and friends had likely saved his life.

By the time he had been released from the hospital, all he’d wanted was to see her again. That feeling had only been magnified once he learned she had vanished. These days, there wasn’t much left except love and hope. Katsuko was resourceful. If other timelines existed, and she was in one, she’d find that timeline’s Sasuke, and he would help get her back to where she belonged. And if history had simply erased her? He’d go to another timeline and find her in that when.

It was a plan that Sasuke likely wouldn’t approve of, but at least Shingen would be doing something more than waiting for the sky.

@bestbryn

#TBT12Lies #ikemen sengoku #fanfic #ikesen shingen #shingen takeda #ikesen fanfic #twelve lies i told shingen takeda #ikesen yukimura #ikesen sasuke

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jazzykitten · 9 months

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Closed starter for: @lioncssv Location: Winter Masquerade Ball

Berlioz wasn't thrilled to be at the masquerade. He thought the whole thing was sort of neat, but also there were way too many people for him to deal with. He hadn't surfaced much since his overdose, trying to stay on the down low, but that didn't mean his habits bit the dust. He'd had a few drinks already, and was avoiding his sister all night like the plague. He was about to head outside for a cigarette when he saw someone who he thought he might know. Someone familiar enough that he should know, but couldn't place it. The person in question had a beautiful dress, Berlioz could appreciate that much, but with half her face hidden with a mask it was difficult to determine who was behind it. Berlioz approached her despite that, two champagne flutes in hand. Had he known it was Vitani he likely would have avoided her too. He hadn't been to work in weeks. "Champagne?" he offered in greeting, holding out the glass. A smile crept on his face, a rarity it seemed for too many days to count. "We know each other, but the question is from where?" He cocked his head slightly to the side. "Or, maybe we don't. I guess...that's sort of the point of this thing. The mystery and shit." Berlioz shrugged and took a sip of the champagne. "Oh, well. I'm certain we could figure it out."

#chat:vitani #lioncssv #🎹 interactions #tw: overdose mention

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lightthematches · 9 months

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Closed starter for: @hexxgirlthorn Location: Winter Masquerade Ball

Maddox was a few drinks in at the winter ball, eyes looking through a mask at all the different outfits on people. His arm was leaning against the bar as he waited to order a drink when he looked closer to the person next to him. He knew her, but not behind a mask. The woman was familiar but as the drinks slowly seeped in his memory was blurred. Someone close enough to recognize but at enough arm's length to be distant. "Let me buy your next drink," he said as he leaned over to speak to her. Maybe he would recognize her voice and he could put a name to who he was speaking to. "I know you're not going to say no," he said with a smirk.

#chat:thorn #hexxgirlthorn #🐉 interactions

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bripops · 10 months

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Writing Patterns

Rules: Share the opening of your last ten published works or as many as you are able to see if there are any patterns!

I was tagged by @redtoblack and this seems fun! I'm including WIPs though because I think that'd be interesting and might spark some motivation to write lol

tbh looking at these I'm seeing a pattern that I start with the setting before anything else, like even if it's not the physical location, it's establishing where the narrator is at mentally. this is neat! tagging @jtownnn because she's so good at tagging me!

Feel the Earth Move (WIP, Dirk Gently/Forces Unseen Sequel)

It wasn’t that Dirk knew Todd was going to propose, not for certain. There were actually frighteningly few things in life that Dirk knew with total certainty. Gravity was just a theory after all. Time wasn’t linear. Even the universal constant of taxes could be disregarded far more easily than was widely believed; he’d seen as much for himself, and Farah had nearly had a coronary when she’d tried to issue him a W2 and discovered that he didn’t know what his social security number was, if he had one at all. Just about everything was a matter of guesses, some more educated than others. Sometimes though, when the stream of creation saw fit, Dirk didn’t need to guess, his hunches filling in the blanks for him. He learned to trust them, even when he didn’t quite understand how it all worked. So when he developed a lingering hunch that Todd was going to propose, Dirk took it at face value and panicked.

we could call it even (WIP, 'tis the damn season seblaine AU)

It was cold when Sebastian stepped off his plane in Columbus, but he hadn’t lived in California long enough yet to forget what winter felt like. He hadn’t been home since August, had purposely stayed in LA for Thanksgiving weekend, but this wasn’t exactly his first white Christmas. He had a hoodie in his backpack for now, and when he got up to the gate he pulled it on. The one from Dalton Academy lacrosse was one of the few he’d brought to school with him and he was comfortable in it; a Dalton boy even now.

hopeless, breathless, burning slow (Dirk Gently)

Dirk is so rarely still that he often forgets what it feels like. Really, he’s always in motion. He runs so much, too much for someone who doesn’t actually like running and whose footwear is almost never appropriate. Too often he finds himself running away from danger, sometimes for his life. The night he’d run away from Blackwing for good, he hadn’t stopped for miles. But it’s not just that.

don't really wanna cool it down (Dirk Gently)

When Tina had asked him and Todd to check out some “weird shit” that had been happening around her friend Jenny’s cabin near the Kaniksu National Forest, Dirk hadn’t necessarily expected to find anything. He’d met some of Tina’s friends, and they all seemed to be on quite a lot of drugs most of the time, so he and Todd agreed that it was more likely than not some kind of hallucinogen making Jenny hear things. Still, they owed Tina after she’d gotten shot on their behalf, and Idaho was halfway to Montana anyway, so they could work in a visit to Bergsberg afterwards.

only one thing left for us to do (Dirk Gently)

The first thing Adrienne said to Dirk the morning after the fight with Rowen was that he looked like a “well-fucked idiot,” which was so far from what Dirk had ever expected to be called that for a split second he forgot he was fluent in French and wondered if he’d mistranslated.

merrier the more (The Magicians, Eliot/Quentin/Fen)

Quentin isn’t sure if he’d forgotten about the masquerade of if no one had told him in the first place. Either is equally possible, but he strongly suspects the latter. Margo and Eliot and even Fen are in their element, fussing over every small detail before they leave for the party. Quentin’s watching Margo adjust the the cascade of curls that’s tumbling down Fen’s back when Eliot’s voice behind him makes him jump. “Aww,” Eliot says, bending so that he can hook his chin over Quentin’s shoulder. “You like her.”

that deviant ingredient (The Magicians, accidental aphrodisiac)

“Hey Q,” Eliot says lightly, leaning against the kitchen counter and enjoying the way Quentin jumps in surprise. “Whatcha eatin’?” He’s not surprised that Quentin is stealing someone else’s food, not really; they all do it and it’s generally accepted that if you don’t ward it against thieves it’s your own fault if it goes missing. What’s surprising is that Quentin is eating Josh’s food. He must be feeling either particularly brave or particularly hungry because even on a good day eating whatever Josh leaves lying around is a risk. “Nothing,” Quentin says, as if he hadn’t just gotten busted with half a cookie still in his mouth. He moves to try to hide the box, but knows he’s been caught and gives up quickly. “Cookies.”

Feels Like Heaven To Me (Dirk Gently, wing!fic)

“You hate them.” “What?” Todd asked, eyes back to Dirk’s face from where they’d been staring at the literal wings that had manifested between his shoulders. “No, I don’t hate them, I’m just… wow.” He and Dirk had been together for about three months when Dirk had said very seriously, “I need to show you something.” When he’d taken off his shirt Todd hadn’t known what to expect; they’d seen each other naked countless times, but he’d never seen Dirk like this. He’d never seen anyone with wings at all, and quite frankly he wasn’t surprised as he probably should have been. It wasn’t even in the top five of weird things he’d seen that month. His life was kind of insane.

cross my heart (and hope to die) (Dirk Gently)

It started as most things in Dirk’s life did: with a crisis. Dirk hadn’t previously been aware that there was such a thing as an orchid crisis, but as he hid on a boat somewhere between Vancouver and Seattle, he knew it was very real. Over $100,000 in rare orchids had gone missing, and for whatever reason, their client was extremely eager to get them back. While following a lead, he and Todd had uncovered a massive botanical smuggling ring, a fact that Todd was not happy about. “I hate boats,” Todd said, looking a little green. “I haven’t stepped on one since the whale watching incident of 1999.” Dirk didn’t ask what the whale watching incident of 1999 was; judging by the look on Todd’s face it likely involved some sort of sea sickness and quite possibly an actual whale. “We’ll be back in Seattle soon,” Dirk said, ignoring the fact that they’d technically crossed the Canadian border illegally twice. “Farah and the police will meet us there, and we’ll be back on land before you know it. All we have to do is stay hidden for the next half hour, and then we’ll be fine.”

Forces Unseen (Dirk Gently)

It was October in Seattle; mild but gray, clouds covering the view of Mt. Rainier, with just enough rain to remind everyone that in a few weeks they’d be getting ready for winter. Todd was bored and Dirk was antsy and Farah was ready to kill them both. Boredom made Todd grumpy, which was made worse by Dirk’s inability to keep still or stay quiet for more than twenty minutes at a time. Farah just wanted them to submit their damn expense reports, but no one seemed willing to do that for a month that hadn’t had any real case-related expenses. Todd was fully prepared to eat the $15 he’d spent on snacks for a stakeout if it meant he wouldn’t have to do any paperwork, but Farah was insistent. Needless to say, things around the office were a bit tense. Todd hit his limit after five minutes of listening to Dirk slowly peel the foil off a chocolate coin. “Unwrap it or don’t,” he snapped, only partially because he was mad that Dirk had chocolate he hadn’t offered to share. “The chocolate will still be there if you rip the foil.” Dirk had the nerve to look offended. “And risk destroying potential clues?” he asked. “I think not.” “It’s a chocolate coin you got at the dollar store,” Todd intoned. “It’s probably not even real chocolate.” “You’re probably not even real chocolate,” Dirk responded, not looking up from his work. It didn’t make any sense as a retort, but Todd threw a pencil at his head anyway.

#writing meme

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