#ALSO i know the moon is flipped on the third adopt.. i can fix it if you buy them and want that LMAO. or it could just be reverse moon =

[oleaspur]

selling these for $16 each obo if anyone here is interested ^__^

[writesandramblings]

The Captain’s Secret - p.84

“Blue Moon”

A/N: Completes the events of episode 12, "Vaulting Ambition," and begins episode 13, "What's Past Is Prologue."

Also, slightly worried I might have lost everyone on the last chapter. I sincerely hope that's not the case! Gah, I knew Allan was a risk, but it had been so long planned (I mean, he essentially told you who he was in chapter 62) and everything's held together in such delicate balance, I don't dare deviate now. Not when we’re in the home stretch!

Full Chapter List Part 1 - Objects in Motion << 83 - In Due Time 85 - I Could Never Be Your Woman >>

They slipped past and around security measures, deftly sidestepping guards and slipping into maintenance shafts to avoid being tracked. "It is amazing that there is no alarm yet," remarked Lalana as they narrowly avoided a pair of guards on patrol.

"We didn't leave much evidence." The door guards and agonizer techs were currently piled on top of Maddox in the back of the torture chamber. Eventually someone would notice when it came time for a shift change or when Georgiou tuned back in to what Lorca was sure was her new favorite show only to discover the star had left, but for the time being, it seemed the miraculous return of Michael Burnham was keeping Georgiou sufficiently distracted and the lack of guards on the door was an easy thing to overlook.

There was another point to consider, too. "Not to mention," added Lorca after a moment, "the thing about ruling through fear is everyone's too scared to tell you when they fuck up." He knew a little of that firsthand, but not to the extent Georgiou did.

The implication of this was easy enough to work out. "Meaning someone may know but has not reported it."

"Maybe," said Lorca, not certain of his own logic for a moment. Also possibly someone would rush to report the incident because it reflected poorly on others and offered a chance to curry favor with Georgiou. Dealing with the emperor was like flipping a coin. One side of the coin, the emperor rewarded you for your attentive service. The other side, she killed you for bringing her bad news. If you were really lucky, the coin landed on its side and you never had to find out which, because both options entailed deadly risk.

"This would be much easier with the pineapple," noted Lalana.

Lorca winced. This was the second time Lalana had mentioned it. "What pineapple?" he repeated incredulously. When she explained it was a system-hacking device designed by Groves, Lorca groaned. Of course that godawful moniker came from Groves. Even far removed from Discovery, the universe's most annoying non-crewmember was still finding ways to taunt him.

They were almost at the aft hangar now. Lorca paused around the corner. He could just about picture the hangar doors and guess at the placement of the guards because Imperial guard placements were frequently predictable. "Two guards. Two shots." For a moment he wished he had Tyler with him. Then he remembered there was no Tyler, that had been Voq, and it colored his face with revulsion.

He spun around the corner. First shot a hit, second a miss, but a third in quick succession had the right adjustment to find its mark. This was essentially the far reaches of the ship, not strategically important, and it seemed unnecessary to post too many guards on what amounted to long-term storage facilities. A fine folly on the part of all responsible parties.

They started down the hall to the hangar doors.

"Now we can save your people," said Lalana.

Lorca stopped. His people were not going to understand Lalana at all. He barely understood her, and he knew her and the lengths she would go to protect him.

"You need to hide," he said. "And this time, no coming out unless I tell you, even if someone walks out and calls your name, got it?" He looked around. The hallway ceilings were much too low and too bright. He spotted a vent. "In there."

Another shot blasted the vent open. It was dark within. Lalana disappeared inside. How deep she went, Lorca could not tell. She might have gone in some distance or been hunched right by the entrance. She was functionally invisible either way. He hoped she was far enough in to not get caught in a firefight in the event one erupted.

The sight of the rows of agony booths dozens deep in the hangar bay filled him with encouragement. The two techs on duty were in the middle of escorting someone into the booth nearest the door and Lorca took them by surprise, but the surprise was equally his to discover himself staring once again at Einar Larsson.

"Captain," said Larsson.

"You have the devil's own luck," grinned Lorca, though Larsson's presence was simultaneously a benefit and a problem. Lorca was not entirely sure how he was going to explain himself to Larsson, who still thought Lorca was the rightful captain of Discovery from the other universe. Lorca offered Larsson the rifle he was holding. "Guard the hallway."

"Aye sir," said Larsson, taking the weapon and the position ordered. "You know, I saw Matt Kerrigan. They took him away, but he was in here."

"Did you now," said Lorca. "Well, maybe you'll see him again."

Georgiou allowed Burnham to contact Discovery, make the offer to trade the engine technology. Saru agreed to it, just as Burnham assured Georgiou he would, and Burnham sent them the coordinates of the Charon to rendezvous.

Georgiou sneered as the transmission ended. "The Federation, through and through. They would never abandon you and your captain. Rules to live by. Rules to die by."

Which reminded Burnham that, just like on the Shenzhou, she was standing here relatively safe and comfortable while Lorca was locked up below being tortured. "I need to see my captain. He won't survive your agonizers much longer, he's suffering!"

"Let him," said Georgiou. "If your bond to me crosses universes, then so does his treachery. The Lorca I knew was my right hand. I trusted him with the empire's most sensitive missions. I... trusted him with you."

"I don't understand."

Georgiou told Burnham of her mirror self. "When I adopted you, you gained a mother. But despite my constant guidance and affection, something was still missing. In Lorca, you saw a father. Until you grew up and it became more."

At first, Burnham thought she was hearing wrong, or that this was some sort of joke. "You're saying Lorca and I..."

"He groomed you," said Georgiou. "He chose you. He told you that destiny brought you together. He said he'd cross time and space itself to take what was rightfully his."

As the light of the mycelial reactor that powered the Charon surged, Emperor Georgiou winced and turned away from the window.

"You're sensitive to light," realized Burnham.

"Only compared to a human from your universe," Georgiou told her. "It's the singular biological difference between our two races."

Her Lorca was sensitive to light, too. An idiosyncrasy he claimed was a result of the Buran yet refused to fix. He had not brought his ocular spray with him on this mission. He had not used it once since their arrival here.

Moments flashed through Burnham's mind, memories of her time spent with the Lorca she knew. How he said he had chosen her, how he kept insisting there was some destiny to their meeting, the filled-in map of the mycelial network proving the existence of parallel worlds—a map Lorca could not have made himself, could not have even dreamed up unless he had somehow known about it in advance.

"He needed me," she realized, "to get onto this ship. You wouldn't have let him on otherwise. He needed me to get to you. None of this was an accident. My so-called captain's not from my universe. He's from yours."

But of course, Georgiou had already known that, because in his pocket they had found the insignia of her Michael Burnham. It was satisfying, watching Burnham's sense of betrayal unfold upon her face. Georgiou would never get to witness this on her own Burnham, but she now knew a truth of her own.

When the person you wanted to see suffer was dead, it meant everything to be able to see that suffering on their face, even if it belonged to another person.

There was an alert. "Emperor," reported a voice, "the traitor Lorca has escaped. Captain Maddox is dead."

"Assemble my battalion captains," ordered Georgiou. She turned to Burnham with a terrible look of disappointment and accusation once more. "You knew."

Burnham's head shook. "I swear to you, until a moment ago, I had no idea the true nature of my captain."

"Hm," went Georgiou. "You wanted me to let him go. You love your captain so much, you can watch us hunt him down like the rat he is."

"I don't love him," insisted Burnham, eyes wide with disbelief. "I don't even know him."

One by one, the booths opened. As Lorca released people whose faces had been haunting him ever since his arrival in the other universe, he saw the looks of relief and elation and heard their voices tremble with awe and excitement. As glad as they were to see him, he was equally glad to have come back and found them waiting.

There were so many more faces missing, though. Maddox's claim that Georgiou had rounded up all his followers was either a gross exaggeration or indicated many of them had not survived to make it to the booths. That was worrisome, but he was already preparing to counter it. The better part of tactics was being prepared for every eventuality, and he was wholly prepared.

People began to cluster around him as they emerged, eager for reassurance. He was more than happy to provide it. "One year, 212 days of torture, of agony, my friends, my followers," he said, his tone and rhetoric a mixture of comfort and sweeping inspiration, "but I have returned to give meaning to your suffering. Today is the day we reclaim our empire."

They responded to him with adoration. Choruses of "Captain!" and "Long live the Empire!" in response.

In one of the central booths he found someone who was a friend in both universes. She was sitting on the floor of the booth, rubbing at the soreness in her legs, but she moved to stand as he neared and she was halfway up when the booth door opened and she looked up at him with tired, dark eyes.

"Captain?" she asked, voice rising with hope and disbelief.

He smiled. "Welcome back, Commander Landry."

She looked thinner, gaunt, and he offered her his hand to help her to her feet. He was relieved to find, despite the loss of muscle mass, Landry was entirely capable of standing and gave a small nod to indicate the majority of her current dazed state was mental, not physical in origin. Shock at his arrival. "They told us you were dead."

"And you believed them?" he replied, face lifting in mild question.

"Not for a second, sir."

A bald officer Lorca recognized as being a munitions expert was already disseminating available weapons to people. Lorca took a rifle from him and gave it to Landry. "Let's get you geared up."

"Sir," said Landry. "Charon has ten battalions of Imperial guards on station." While Landry in the other universe had essentially been an overzealous warden, this Landry was entirely the tactical officer Lorca remembered her to be and her first concern was updating him as to her knowledge of the tactical situation. "I don't know how you got here, or how you got us all out alive, but we should withdraw, regroup. We still have supporters on several worlds."

"The emperor's ship is exactly where we need to be," Lorca assured her. "I have been to another universe and back. You think I'd come all this way without a plan?"

His smile was entirely confident. As Landry gazed up at him, he could see her strength returning to her in mind and spirit.

"Now take all available guns and secure that hallway."

"Yes, sir."

Landry hastened to execute Lorca's command. The doors opened and Larsson was startled to see her. "Commander," he greeted, like he was seeing a ghost.

She was equally surprised, having thought him dead on the Buran. "Lieutenant Larsson. Look alive." As she moved out with several others to secure the far end of the hall, Larsson marveled at the ingenuity of it. Freeing the people in the agony booths as backup. Then he began to wonder two things. What precisely were they doing, and where was Lalana?

Lorca made his way through the hangar, trying not to get too distracted by the throng of desperately hopeful people who were clamoring for even the smallest word of encouragement.

There was someone else he still had to find.

She was all the way in the back, scratching idly at welts on her arms. Her hair was longer and there were scars across her cheeks and neck and everywhere else, but there was no mistaking those all-too-familiar and entirely unsettling mismatched pupils, even if they were missing the light that someone had once described as the enduring feature of those eyes. Lorca looked at her coldly. "Hello, Petra."

"Captain," said Emellia Petrellovitz. For all that she looked wretched, her voice was as coldly demanding as ever. She was not shocked to see him, nor was she elated in any sense of the word. She could care less about him. There was only one thing she did care about where Lorca was concerned. "Did you find Michael?"

That question was going to take some answering.

Part 85

[immoralrpg-blog]

Congratulations, GRAY, you have been accepted for the role of JAMES POTTER, with the faceclaim of JORDAN FISHER. James’ ambition is what really drives his character, and you knew precisely how to play to that strength without making him seem entirely like the villain. I like the way you played up his ego a little --- he’s a teenager, and those flaws made him seem all the more fleshed out as a character. His loyalty also made him rather endearing, too. Nice job! Please head along to the CHECKLIST for your next steps.

IC

CHARACTER NAME: James Fleamont Potter GENDER & PRONOUNS: Cismale & he/him pronouns (I do have some interest in him exploring his gender identity as things go on, if that’s alright) FACECLAIM: Jordan Fisher, John Boyega, Keiynan Lonsdale 

BIOGRAPHY:Born to older parents, who had always wanted a child and nearly given up hope of it ever happening, James was treated like a little miracle from the start. He never wanted for anything. Though he was taught he deserved the world, his parents also did their best to instill a deep sense of right and wrong in James to… mixed success. They were certainly able to teach him how to love and feel and want with his whole heart, without hesitation.

From his first steps into Hogwarts, James found himself surrounded by all the friends he could want, though he was still careful to pick and choose who he let closest. There’s a difference between friends and fans after all. And while the adoring smiles and cheers from most of the school were nice, James knew without a doubt who he’d want at his side should the world ever turn on him. He befriended Sirius and them Remus and Peter in his first year and the four of them were inseparable from that point on.

While school was interesting enough, James’ interests lay more with bending the rules or finding ways around them with what he learned in class. While his first love would always be quidditch, he was always looking for a new project to keep him busy. Mapping the castle was one such endeavor.

Then of course came the discovery of Remus’ secret. James would always beat himself up later for not realizing sooner. From the very start, it was clear there was something off with one of his closest friends. Sneaking out on one full moon toward the beginning of third year and hearing the howls just confirmed what he had suspected for ages. There had to be a way to help Remus… or at least something to do to keep him company. He was never sure just how the book of animagi found its way to him, but James wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. The process was a long, complicated one, and there were plenty of false steps and nearly disastrous mistakes, but eventually, he, Sirius, and Peter managed it.

Of course, it wasn’t all sneaking around after hours or running through the woods on four legs. James still had plenty of time to fawn over dear, sweet Lily. She was perfect, the girl of his dreams, and–naturally–one of the only people in school who wouldn’t give him the time of day. Still, James kept up the playful flirting, eventually growing enough to deflate his ego just a bit, just enough for Lily to let him in a little closer.

Though for years, he was sure the one and only obstacle between him and Lily was one Severus Snape. The animosity there was brewing from day one. James would push and Snape would shove. He was a worthy adversary, that much was certain, though James couldn’t pretend there wasn’t a touch of jealousy spurring him on. But as long as they stood on even ground, it was alright, then he wasn’t just a bully. They were more rivals than anything else. It was easier to think of it that way. Then he wasn’t the bad guy. Though the more he pushed, the more he wondered… what would be too much?

Sirius would be the one to answer that for him.

The night of the full moon, when he yanked Snape away from werewolf claws and dragged him from the Shrieking Shack changed things. They had been running unchecked for too long, he needed to change, to get better. James was no killer, and he would be damned if he let any of his friends end up there either. So he began pulling back, reining himself in a bit more. That left more time for quidditch anyway, something he needed as much as possible if he was going to make the international team once he left school.

Injuries here and there, including a particularly nasty one that left him bedridden for weeks, weren’t going to hold him back. For as long as he could remember, being a star quidditch player was all he wanted to be. Being an auror like his mother would’ve been nice, but his heart was always on the pitch. So imagine his disappointment when the talent seeker arrived and told him no before so much as letting him off the ground. They weren’t looking for chasers that year, the seeker told him, and really hadn’t James had too many injuries this year? That didn’t look good for a potential pro.

So James acted without thinking. There was no one else around to see, no one who could’ve possibly overheard him cast the spell. Like a switch had been flipped, the talent seeker changed his tune, guaranteeing James a spot on the team. James had accepted with a wide grin and taken the man’s hand, doing his best to ignore the strange hollow feeling in his chest. This was his dream, what he had always wanted, but… but he hadn’t earned it. Not really. Not yet. James did his best to force all that down. He could prove himself in time. Of course he would. And as long as no one else was the wiser, his dream was his for the taking. Now, if he could just make it that far before the guilt swallowed him whole.

QUESTIONAIRE

describe your secret in your own way.

James shifts in his seat, discomfort creeping along the line of his shoulders, though he does his best to fix a smile into place. “Alright, I know how it looks. And I’ll admit to it. I confunded him, yeah. He wasn’t going to even give me a shot otherwise. Said they weren’t looking for chasers this season, can you believe that shite?”

Scoffing, he shakes his head, sitting up a little straighter now. “Once I get out there with the team, it won’t even matter, now will it? I’ll earn my spot, same as any of them. I just… I just needed a chance, alright? But I’ll prove I deserve to be there and then it won’t matter how I got there. No one needs to know. It… it doesn’t matter.”

Maybe if he says it enough time, he’ll start believing it himself.

your family life. how’s it like?

“My family? They’re great.” James’ smile is easy and fond as he crosses his arms behind his head. “My mum’s a bit strict, but she’s the toughest witch you’ll ever meet. She worked as an auror for ages, only retired a few years ago and I still reckon she could take down any dark wizard who crossed her. Very proud, my mum, doesn’t take anyone’s nonsense, y’know? But she’s softer than she’ll admit. I think she was about ready to adopt Sirius on the spot the first time he came to visit, Remus and Peter too.

“My dad’s well… a bit more like me. But I’ll be damned if I end up as forgetful as him. Mum says he’d lose his head if it weren’t screwed on, and I think she’s got it right there. He’s brilliant though, a potions genius. I think he’s always been a little disappointed I didn’t take after him there. It’s not that I’m bad at potions or anything, I just… I get a bit carried away sometimes and add a bit more than the book says I ought to or change something to what dad’s taught me. Sometimes it works… sometimes it doesn’t. But I know he’s proud of me. If I end up half the man he is, I’ll be happy.”

expand on one ( or more ) of your connections. tell us about them. your relationship with them.

“Sirius is my best mate. I don’t have siblings and… I had friends growing up, but it was always a little lonely. It’s not like that now. Hasn’t been since I met Sirius. I expected him to be a right prick at first, all that blood purity his family goes on and on about. I never cared for any of that shite. But Sirius… he’s not like that. I know he can be a bit much sometimes, but he’s a good person. Don’t care what anyone says, he is.”

Grinning, James cocks his head to one side, his eyes warm as he thinks back. “We’ve been friends since we met just about. Sirius just… he understands me, y’know? I know I can be a bit of an arse sometimes, but he knows when I’m joking and I don’t have to hold anything back around him. He’s been living at my place for a while and I can’t believe I didn’t make him stay sooner. It’s gonna be brilliant once we’ve got our own place. Just the two of us, no rules–and we’ll have the best parties. Sounds a bit sappy, but… he’s my other half. Dunno what I’d do without him.”

why were you sorted into your house? do you think you belong there?

“Damn right I belong in Gryffindor. I mean, I’ll do the hard work when I have to and I’m not an idiot, but if there’s anyone out there braver than me, I’ll eat my broom. There was no other place I could go really. It only makes sense.”

worst moment of your life?

James fidgets, playing with the end of his sleeve, trying to force a smile, but he can’t make it stick. “It uh… it’d have to be that night when Sirius convinced Snape to go out to the Shrieking Shack. I never thought he’d pull something like that. I mean, we pull pranks on Snape and I’ve landed him in the hospital wing a few times myself, but… that was too far.”

He swallows hard and shakes his head. “Just knowing that he could do that to Snape and to Remus… I-I dunno. But the worst bit wasn’t until I got out there to stop him. For a second I thought… I thought I was too late. If Remus had hurt him or… or worse… I dunno what they would’ve done to him. And I can’t stand Snape, but I’ve never wanted him dead. He’s a prick, but he doesn’t deserve that…”

what can you see yourself doing in the future? what side are you on? order of the phoenix? death eaters? neutral? Why?

“Order of the Phoenix, obviously. I expect I’ll get wrapped up in the fighting eventually… seems like everyone does, but of course I’m fighting that load of tossers. You don’t just get to go around saying who should have magic and who shouldn’t. It’s not right. They’re a bunch of cowards if you ask me, too afraid to move with the times. The Order’s got it right, working from the shadows to take care of them. The ministry isn’t doing enough and that’s not likely to change, can’t be rocking the boat and losing the old pureblood money. Once I’ve had a few good years on the International team, I reckon I’ll join up with the Order, it’s the only thing to do really.”

what do you smell in amortentia?

“Made that in potions last year, mine came out a little weak cause I over did it with the stirring, but I remember smelling the ones from the next table over. Evans and Sniv–Snape made it perfectly, of course,” he says, failing to resist the urge to roll his eyes.

He closes his eyes, trying to think back, an absent smile spreading over his face. “It smelled like the quidditch pitch on the first day of practice, when the grass is fresh and the air’s clear. And a bit like the forest, old trees and kicked up dirt. Like those cakes my mum makes when Peter and Remus are over and that old leather jacket Sirius won’t get rid of. And… flowers, soft and sweet, and clean robes fresh out of the laundry and… something that’s a bit like the potions classroom, the smell of a fire under a cauldron…”

A slight frown replaces the smile as his eyes flick open. “Although… that part could’ve just been being in the classroom. It’s sort of hard to tell. I wonder if it smells different as you get older. I might have to try whipping up a batch again and see if it’s any different this time around.”

what’s your boggart?

James frowns, suddenly uncomfortable. The room feels a bit colder and his stomach turns unpleasantly. “Oh, that? It’s uh… it’s always different for me. Sometimes it’ll change a few times before I can beat it. Usually it’s my mates dead or… or dying. Or my parents. I know they’re older. Never uh… never really know how much time they’ve got left. Don’t like thinking about it, but I know they won’t be around forever.”

He blows a breath out his nose and drags a hand through his already unruly hair, sending his curls a dozen different directions. “Suppose that’s nothing too shocking, there is a war on after all. People die… doesn’t make thinking about it any easier. I dunno what I’d do if… if–y’know, it doesn’t matter, cause it’s not gonna happen. I won’t let it.”