#Adventure of the Great Vanishing Act

[alynnl]

I have one more Great Ace Attorney AU that I actually came up with as I was actively playing through case 2-3 (Return of the Great Departed Soul.)

My notes aren't quite polished enough to share the long version, but I have a few key ideas I can share.

It all started with a question. "What would happen if Albert Harebrayne got kidnapped and held for ransom?"

And Barok van Zieks gets the ransom note

Only the demands aren't for money, but instead for Van Zieks to get a guilty verdict in an upcoming trial

Kazuma has gone off on "personal business" so he's not Van Zieks's co-counsel this time around

Ryunosuke and Susato are the opposing counsel, of course

The trial is a murder trial because in Ace Attorney, it's always murder

In this case, it's the murder of someone who'd been recently reported missing

The defendant is a young Italian stage magician who was just making his debut (who I really want to come up with a pun name for)

Herlock Sholmes is there. He's been investigating a string of missing persons cases in the background

Stage magic + missing persons cases = a great idea for a title. Adventure of the Great Vanishing Act

After a very stressful first day of trial and additional investigation, Ryunosuke and Susato approach Van Zieks because they know he's not himself

It takes some effort on Ryunosuke's part, but Van Zieks comes clean about the ransom note, and how he doesn't want to lose one of his friends the day he was supposed to get him out of England to save him from the Reaper's Curse

Sholmes arrives and he's heard everything. And he reassures everyone that he can rescue Albert, since he's close to cracking the missing persons case

There's a major moment (reminiscent of Farewell my Turnabout) where Ryunosuke, Susato and Van Zieks agree to prolong the trial as long as they can to give Sholmes enough time to get Albert out of danger

I'm floating the idea of Iris being Sholmes's investigation partner during that part of the story because you can't have a Dance of Deduction solo

Albert takes matters into his own hands and sets off a small explosion (on purpose this time) just to let people know where he is (when in doubt, blow something up!)

This explosion tips Sholmes off to his location, and after a brief reunion, the Great Detective whisks Professor Harebrayne away to the Old Bailey

Ryunosuke and Van Zieks have given it their all in the courtroom. Van Zieks has no doubt that the young magician is not guilty. Sholmes hasn't arrived yet, but there is no other way to stall the trial. He knows he couldn't live with himself, nor would Albert forgive him if he sent a perfectly innocent young man to the gallows

"The Prosecution... Rests."

Ryunosuke can't come up with anything else either. "The Defense... Rests."

Mere minutes before a verdict is called, there is a last minute "Hold it!"

Sholmes arrives, with Albert in tow. "Forgive my tardiness, ladies and gentlemen! I had a very important promise to keep!"

The Judge asks why they're even here, since the trial seems to have reached its logical conclusion

Sholmes goes on to suggest that the proceedings can't end here, since it's possible that the true culprit behind the murder and the vanished Londoners might be sitting in the gallery.

Ryunosuke suggests that both Albert Harebrayne and Herlock Sholmes testify, since they are both important witnesses. "We have a survivor and... The Great Detective who discovered one of the culprit's hideouts!"

Van Zieks agrees to let them testify. He looks at Albert in particular when he mentions he fully supports the idea.

Their testimony and evidence (including the ransom note sent to Van Zieks) point out the actual mastermind

The culprit is desperate (and perhaps foolish) enough to try and attack the witnesses. Sholmes gets Albert behind him, and quickly has the suspect on the ground with a single blow.

The bailiff takes him away, much to the relief of everyone present.

When there's once again order in the court, the Judge finally calls a verdict of Not Guilty for the young magician, who can hardly believe what just happened in his trial

I'm still working on the post-trial scenes. (As much as the other scenes.) But I have a few details worked out.

The young magician will go back to Italy, both to escape the Reaper's Curse and reconcile with his family

Van Zieks doesn't directly thank Ryunosuke and the others but he recognizes their abilities. And he knows when they're in the courtroom, the truth will be brought to light

Albert apologizes profusely to everyone, feeling like he's just caused them all a great deal of trouble once again

Ryunosuke gets the feeling of de ja vu as he gives Professor Harebrayne the reassurance that none of this was his fault at all

Van Zieks can tell how tired Albert is and offers to take him home. "You need food and rest. You've been through a lot, Albert."

Ryunosuke is completely taken aback on how gentle Van Zieks sounds. He accidentally says this out loud and receives an icy glare in return

Barok and Albert share supper together at the professor's home. They also share a conversation.

Barok isn't proud of the way he first responded to the ransom note

Albert tells him "I might have acted the same way, if I was in your shoes."

In the very end, it's seen as the best thing for Albert to leave Britain after all (in this AU he was trying to stay to prove a point.)

Barok quietly agrees. Then he humbly asks Albert to write to him once he's reached Germany, and mentions that he will keep in touch.

At Baker St, Ryunosuke, Susato, Iris and Sholmes are having their own supper. Sholmes excitedly explains how he found a notebook with details about the other missing Londoners in the same building he found Albert Harebrayne. Since then, the rest of the citizens have been returned home

Ryunosuke couldn't believe how tough (and how personal) today's trial became, but he knows as long as he has the others to help him, he can overcome any challenges in the courtroom

Everyone at Baker St. shares a toast with Iris's tea, to victory and unbreakable bonds

[specialagentartemis]

godddddd i have disliked becky chambers' work since long way to a small angry planet and I agree that that fish scene is SO much of what is wrong with contemporary SFF especially queer SFF. refreshing take, great review, thank you. would love to hear what authors or works you think of as the antidote to that sensibility.

The thing is, I enjoyed The Long Way to a Small Angry Planet when I first read it - it was a fun, light adventure, clearly a debut novel but I was excited to see where Chambers would go from there. And I actually really do think the sequel, A Closed and Common Orbit, was good! It did interesting things with AI personhood and identity.

... and then Chambers just kinda. Did not get better. She settled into a groove and has a set number of ideas that I feel like she hasn't broken out of, creatively. And they I M O kind of rest on an assumption that "human nature" = "how people act in suburban California."

As an antidote to that sensibility, I'd say... books where people have a real interrelationship with the land they inhabit, a sense of being present, and reciprocal obligations to that land; books that recognize that some things can never be taken back once done; books with well-drawn characters, where people have strong opinions deeply informed by their circumstances, that can't always be easily reconciled with others, and won't be brushed aside; books where these character choices matter, they impact each other, they cannot be easily gotten over, because people have obligations to each other and not-acting is a choice too.

And it's only fair that after all day of being a Hater I should rec some books I really did like.

Piranesi by Susanna Clarke - A man lives alone in an infinite House, over an equally infinite ocean. Captures the feeling that I think Monk & Robot was aiming for. Breathtaking beauty, wonder at the world, philosophy of truth, all that good stuff, and actually sticks the landing. The main character's love, attention, and care to his fantasy environment shows through in every page. (Fantasy, short novel)

Imperial Radch by Ann Leckie - An AI, the one fragment remaining of a destroyed imperial spaceship, is on a quest for revenge. Leckie gets cultural differences and multiculturalism, and conversely, what the imposition of a homogeneous culture in the name of unity means. (Space sci-fi, novel trilogy)

Machineries of Empire by Yoon Ha Lee - An army captain's insubordination is punished by giving her a near-impossible mission: to take down a rebelling, heretical sect holing up in a space fortress and defying imperial power. She gets a long dead brain-ghost of a notorious criminal downloaded into her head to help. Very, very good at making you feel like every doomed soldier was a person with a past, with a family, with feelings, with hopes and dreams and frustrations and favorites and preferences and reasons to live, right before they brutally die in a space war. Also very much about the imposition of homogeneity of culture as a force of imperialism. (Space sci-fi, novel trilogy)

The Fortunate Fall by Cameron Reed - Maya Andreyevna is a VR journalist in high-tech dystopian future Russia, and she decides to investigate the truth that the government doesn't want her to. She might die trying. It's fine. Also has digital brain-sharing, this time in a gay way. It's bleak. It's sad. It feels real. Not making a choice is a choice. Backing out is a choice. And choices have consequences. Choices reverberate through history. About responsibility. (Cyberpunk, novel)

The Vanished Birds by Simon Jimenez - Nia Imani is a spaceship captain, a woman out of time, a woman running from her past, and accidentally adopts a boy who has a strange power that could change the galaxy. Spaceship crew-as-found-family in the most heartbreaking of ways. Also about choices, how the choices you make and refuse to make shape you and shape the world around you. How the world is always changing around you, how the world does not stay still when you're gone, and when you come back you're the same but the world has moved on around you. About how relationships aren't always forever, and that doesn't mean they weren't important. About responsibility to others. It's a slow, sad book and does not let anyone rest on their laurels, ever. There is no end of history here. Everything is always changing, on large scales and small, and leaving you behind. (Space sci-fi, novel)

Dungeon Meshi / Delicious in Dungeon by Ryoko Kui - A D&D style fantasy dungeon crawl that stops to think deeply about why there are so many dungeons full of monsters and treasure just hanging around. Here because it's an example of an author thinking through her worldbuilding a lot, and it mattering. Also because of the characters' respect for the animals they are are killing and eating, their lives and their place in the ecosystem, and the ways that humans both fuck up ecosystems with extraction and tourism, but also the ways that you can have reciprocal relationships of responsibility and care with the ecosystem you live in, even if it's considered a dangerous one. (Fantasy, manga series)

Stories of Your Life and Others by Ted Chiang and How Long 'Til Black Future Month by N. K. Jemisin and Everyone on the Moon is Essential Personnel by Julian K. Jarboe - Short story anthologies that were SO good and SO weird and rewired the way I think. If you want the kind of stuff that is like, the opposite of easy-to-digest feel-good pap, these short stories will get into your brain and make you consider stuff and look at the world from new angles. Most of them aren't particularly upbeat, but there's a lot of variety in the moods.

"Homecoming is Just Another Word for the Sublimation of the Self," "Calf Cleaving in the Benthic Black," and "Termination Stories for the Cyberpunk Dystopia Protagonist" by Isabel J. Kim - Short stories, sci-fi mostly, that twist around in my head and make me think. Kim is very good at that. Also about choices and not-making-choices, about going and staying, about taking the easy route or the hard one, about controlling the narrative.

The Murderbot Diaries by Martha Wells - Security robot with guns in its arms hacks itself free from its oppressive company, mostly wants to half-ass its job but gets sucked into drama, intrigue, and caring against its better judgement. This is on here because 1) I love it 2) I feel like it does for me what cozy sff so frequently fails to do - it makes me feel seen and comforted. It's hopeful and compassionate and about personal growth and finding community and finding one's place in the world, without brushing aside all problems or acting like "everybody effortlessly just gets along" is a meaningful proposal. also 3) because it is one of the few times I have yet seen characters from a hippie, pacifistic, eco-friendly, welcoming, utopian society actually act like people. The humans from Preservation are friendly, helpful, and motivated by truth and justice and compassion, because they come from a friendly, just, compassionate society, and they still actually act like real human beings with different personalities and conflicting opinions and poor reactions to stress and anger and frustration and fear and the whole range of human emotions rather than bland niceness. Also 4) I love it (space sci-fi, novella series mostly)

[goodnightmemes]

HOUSE OF THE DRAGON SEASON TWO SENTENCE STARTERS

❛ Duty is sacrifice. It eclipses all things, even blood. All men of honor must pay its price.

❛ War is coming, to the whole of the realm.❜

❛ I am indebted to you. ❜

❛ I'm afraid. ❜

❛ We should've just killed her when we had the chance. ❜

❛ When the king speaks, Your Grace, all hear it. ❜

❛ I find myself wondering...do we pursue the same end? ❜

❛ You must accept that the path to victory now is one of violence. ❜

❛ Did you think I would wither in your absence? ❜

❛ You only blame me because your true enemies are out of reach. ❜

❛ She holds love for our enemy. That makes her a fool. ❜

❛ I promise you, you will have all the vengeance that you seek, but you must keep a grip on your impulses. ❜

❛ Do anything but what I ask, and I'll bleed the whole lot of ya. ❜

❛ The gods punish us. They punish me. ❜

❛ This is not the time for blind accusations. We'll know who did this soon enough. ❜

❛ I will not be seen as weak. ❜

❛ Sometimes, we have to pretend. ❜

❛ I cannot trust you. I've never trusted you, wholly, much though I wished to, willed myself to. But now I have seen that your heart belongs only to you. ❜

❛ You think me some kind of monster. ❜

❛ You're pathetic. ❜

❛ We can afford no further mistakes. ❜

❛ You are mad. Mad! You cannot think that I did this! ❜

❛ You would send me to my death. ❜

❛ I would remind you only that when princes lose their temper, it is often others who suffer. ❜

❛ I see all your great adventures have done nothing for your looks. ❜

❛ For too long, I made it my aim to be of consequence. But now, I see that was the wish of a child. ❜

❛ I wish to spill blood, not ink! ❜

❛ Instead of judgment, you display impetuousness, and diminish us in the eyes of our enemy! ❜

❛ Fuck dignity! I want revenge. ❜

❛ They wish now not for the good of the realm, but for the petty satisfaction of vengeance. ❜

❛ Soon they will not even remember what it was that began the war in the first place. ❜

❛ There is no war so hateful to the gods as a war between kin. ❜

❛ I'm as fearsome as any of them. ❜

❛ You showed me grace when you could have withheld it. I'm not often surprised. ❜

❛ I cannot promise to make you happy. But I ask you: make this sacrifice willingly, for all of us. ❜

❛ If you've not yet surmised, you are welcome here. ❜

❛ Sin begets sin begets sin. ❜

❛ If dragons begin fighting dragons, we invite our own destruction. ❜

❛ Do not coddle me. Grant me at least that dignity. ❜

❛ Sadness is a condition of motherhood. ❜

❛ You have as much claim to grief as anyone. ❜

❛ Tales take on a life of their own, like weeds. Unless they are tended. ❜

❛ Always coming and going, aren't you? And I have to clean up afterwards. ❜

❛ You will die in this place. ❜

❛ I have been, at times, unkind, but never untrue. ❜

❛ You must go before you are discovered. ❜

❛ Your mother must've been very beautiful. ❜

❛ You should've burned them when you had the chance. ❜

❛ Is there no honor left in this world? ❜

❛ This is a better death than a traitor deserves. You should thank me for it. ❜

❛ I will not be made to look a fool in front of my allies and enemies. ❜

❛ I believe it is a sin to deny your appetites. They are what make us fully alive as mortal men. ❜

❛ If I may be so bold, you have not seemed yourself of late. ❜

❛ I've barely had the hours to grieve one tragedy before suffering the next. ❜

❛ I've come to know the face of tortured rest well enough. ❜

❛ Do you think simply wearing the crown imbues you with wisdom? ❜

❛ You have no idea the sacrifices that were made to put you on that throne. ❜

❛ What would you have me do? ❜

❛ Do simply what is needed of you: nothing. ❜

❛ Where have you been, these last days? You vanished without so much as a word.❜

❛ There are those who have mistaken my caution for weakness. Let that be their undoing. ❜

❛ If you die, all is lost. ❜

❛ The horrors I have just loosed cannot be for a crown alone. ❜

❛ Do you take issue with me? ❜

❛ I can sit still no longer. I must act. ❜

❛ I did not think they would be so eager to die. ❜

❛ I need them alive. I came here to raise swords, not corpses. ❜

❛ Will you goad me? When your bread and shelter now depend on my pleasure? ❜

❛ I mislike feeling powerless. ❜

❛ I do not know my part. The path I walk has never been trod. ❜

❛ What you cannot do, let others do for you. ❜

❛ There is more than one way to fight a war. ❜

❛ I do not wish to stand alone. ❜

❛ Has your loyalty faded? Or does it flourish only at night and flee the sunrise like a moth? ❜

❛ What we must do now is... terrible. ❜

❛ This is not war. These are crimes against the innocent, that any upright man would repudiate. ❜

❛ And once again, in the name of power, it's the weak and the women who must endure. ❜

❛ Was it worth the price? ❜

❛ I caution you, boldness is one thing, but overconfidence… ❜

❛ You have the impetuousness of youth, and its arrogance, neither of which is to be desired in a king. ❜

❛ Have the indignities of your childhood not yet sufficiently been avenged? ❜

❛ To claim a dragon, you must also be prepared to die. ❜

❛ You can't possibly still be angry about this. ❜

❛ You weren't going to bid me farewell? ❜

❛ It is your way, is it not? When something does not please you, you run. ❜

❛ There are older things in this world than you or I, or living memory. ❜

❛ You are not the player, but a piece on the board. As am I, for that matter. ❜

❛ It is my fault, I think, that you have forgotten to fear me. ❜

❛ It was worth the risk, no matter the outcome. ❜

❛ The enemy without may be fought with swords. The enemy within is more insidious. ❜

❛ Do you take me for a fool? ❜

❛ Oh, you make an art of provoking me. ❜

❛ Stop wasting your life waiting for something that'll never come. ❜

❛ I'm sure you did your best. ❜

❛ They will underestimate you, and this will be your advantage. ❜

❛ If the gods call me to greater things, who am I to refuse them? ❜

❛ Nothing is clean here. ❜

❛ The order of things has changed. Why not embrace it? ❜

❛ It does seem to me that you've made rather a mess here. ❜

❛ I don't need their love. I need their swords. ❜

❛ Mind your tongue. ❜

❛ I mislike all of this. ❜

❛ It seems you need us more than we need you. ❜

❛ So, what was the fucking point in all this then? ❜

❛ It's best to live, I think. However you do it. ❜

❛ You are not alone. ❜

❛ Will you prepare to face such an enemy? Or will you stay here and make yourself easy? ❜

❛ If you hinder our efforts through sloth or unreadiness, I will see you hanged, and your body fed to the dogs in the street. ❜

❛ You've arrived just in time to see my new army. What do you think of it? ❜

❛ This place will have you barking at the moon. ❜

❛ We must all make our sacrifices. ❜

❛ 'Tis no longer our rule that is threatened, our very lives. ❜

❛ Perhaps all men are corrupt and true honor is a mist that melts in the morning. ❜

❛ The dragons dance, and men are like dust under their feet. ❜

❛ We march now toward our annihilation. ❜

❛ There will be time enough to see which one of us is a coward. ❜

❛ There are omens here for those who seek them. ❜

❛ It's all a story and you are but one part in it. You know your part. ❜

❛ I am meant to serve you, and all of these with me, until death or the end of our story. ❜

❛ Be strong. You know you are just. ❜

❛ History will paint you a villain. ❜

❛ I am at last myself, with no ambition greater than to walk where I please and to breathe the open air. To die unremarked and unnoticed and be free. ❜

❛ You speak as if from a distant dream. ❜

❛ Come with me. ❜

❛ My part is here, whether I will or no. It was decided for me long ago. ❜

[aceistheplace86]

What if

//Stan Pines having a crush on you, but never getting to admit it.

You and Stan had been inseparable since elementary school when you guys met. He convinced you he could do the monkey bars faster than you, but promptly fell on his face while running over to the set.

You two only getting closer as you got older. Now you guys were nearing the end of high school and neither one had admitted their feelings to each other. Yet they both had to Ford.

You always confided in Ford about your feelings towards his twin brother and he always urged you to tell him. You always backed out.

Tonight was no different. Stan was lying in bed staring at the ceiling while his brother sat at his desk writing in his notebook. He sighed heavily and looked over at his twin “Do you think I’m being stupid?”

“You’re going to have to be more specific,” he said in a playful manner

“Ha Ha” Stan said sarcastically “No but I mean, with not telling Y/N how I feel?”

Ford paused for a second. “A little bit”

“What if I get the chance to say how I feel and I mess it all up?” his voice was quiet

“Remember a few years ago when you asked me, ‘What if I don’t find someone to love’? Well, now you’ve got the biggest crush on Y/N that I’ve ever seen. So why not try?”

Stan thought for a moment. What if love just wasn’t for him? He was historically heartbroken, girls weren’t flocking to him, and when he did get a date, they never lasted long.

No one could really tell because he always tried to play it cool around everyone, his parents, the kids at school, even his own brother. There were rare moments, like tonight when only Ford got to see how lonely he felt.

He always felt like he was drowning in his own emotions, always just one minute from breaking down. He tried ways to keep himself distracted, like boxing, and adventures with his brother. But as they get older, the adventures seem few and far between.

But his time with Y/N made all of his anxieties about being alone for the rest of his life vanish. He enjoyed their time together, he felt like he could be himself. He didn’t feel like he had to be some fake version of himself to be loved, he didn’t have to put on an act. He didn’t feel like the dumb twin.

He shifted his focus back to the ceiling “What if I don’t deserve it?”

Ford didn’t respond. He stared blankly down at his notebook. He had no answer. He knew Stan deserved love, deserved a partner for life. How could he tell him that? He wouldn’t listen, nor would he really believe him. “What if you do?”

Months had gone by, and Stan made no advances to telling Y/N how he felt. Until today, he knew Y/N was out of town for a few days so it gave him time to prepare what he wanted to say. He paced the living room trying his hardest to not make it sound cheesy. He wanted Ford to come home from the science fair so that he could talk strategy with him. Ford wasn’t great at girl talk but he could at least keep Stan from making a fool of himself.

Just then, Ford stormed into the house. Slamming the door behind him.

“Sixer! Just in time, I’m trying to figure out what to say to Y/N” He says sheepishly “Want to help me?”

“Help you? Why would I want to help you!” He says showing his twin the bag of Toffee Peanuts. “Explain this Stanley”

Stan stared at the bag quickly remembering what happened. “I-I didn’t mean it Ford” He had learned that Ford might go to some fancy school, but he wasn’t ready for him to leave. Ford was the one person he could count on. There was no guarantee that Y/N liked him back, but he would always have his brother. The next thing he knew he was leaving the school after covering Ford’s, probably fine, project

“I was messing around and I accidentally-“

“This was no accident, Stanley! You did this! You did this because you couldn’t handle me going to college on my own!” He shoved him “You sabotaged my entire future!”

“You did what?” His father appeared and grabbed him by his collar

“I-It was a mistake!” Stan pleaded, there was no chance. He got thrown outside landing hard on the ground.

“You are not welcome in this household until you make this family millions!” His father threw a duffle bag at him.

Stan stared at the bag, briefly wondering why his father already had a bag packed, before looking up at the window to Ford. “What?! Stanford, tell him he is being ridiculous!”

Ford looks at the West Coast Tech pamphlet their family was given the other day before he closes his curtains.

“Stanford? Don't leave me hangin'. High six? His father slams the pawn shop's front door in his son's face. He stared at the now-closed door and tried to get his mind straight. He didn’t have anywhere to go. He was losing ahold of things fast.

He wouldn’t be able to go to Y/N’s house like he did when things felt a little too confusing.

 Y/N. He wouldn’t be able to say goodbye, and there was no way he was sticking around here and risking possibly running into his father. He looked up at the window one more time “Please Ford, will you at least tell Y/N how I feel?”

Stan looks sadly at the window before he straightens his posture and hardens his look. “I can make it on my own!” he mumbled climbing into his car and speeding off.

Stan decided he wouldn’t show his face at home until he had made a name for himself. The days were hard, the treasure-hunting business was a bust and when he found sales, he realized he was a good salesman but had crappy products. However, the nights were the hardest. He slept in his car and crappy motels. There wasn’t a day that he didn’t think of what he did to his brother. He was angry, but he missed him. He often found his thoughts drifting to Y/N. Ford must've told them how Stan had felt, and apparently from the lack of communication, it seemed that those feelings were not reciprocated.

Maybe love wasn’t for him.

//I hope you guys liked this! I had the idea and hoped it didn't seem rushed. I think I'm getting sick so I don't feel like this is my best work. Should I do Ford’s perspective after being asked that favor from Stan?

[void-ink-studios]

Touch of Light

This is in the same timeline as "Wrath of the Wishmaster" which you can read here! Specifically, this is a bit before the events of that fic. They're not officially together yet, but they're getting close.

Do I have two other WIPs I should be working on? Yes. Will I write this instead? Also, yes.

Enjoy, y'all.

Word Count: 2,300

Scarab had gone missing again.

While Prismo was not the type to take much stock in what the beetle got up to in his spare time, the disappearing act he's been pulling lately is getting... concerning.

It wasn't as if it was a problem per say... Scarab lived here now too, and he had as much right to explore the space as Prismo did. Plus, it wasn't as if Scarab was necessarily required up in the main chamber all the time.

But Prismo was starting to miss the company.

Him and Scarab had seemed to finally strike up some kind of peace. He'd help the Wishmaster with his fanfics that needed a certain bloody zest, he'd talk of his adventures across the multiverse, and he'd been slowly teaching him his strange language of chirps, clicks, trills, and buzzing.

The Time Room just felt more alive ever since that blue shadow was added to the routine. And it felt like they both had finally gotten used to each other enough to just... be. Relax. Smile.

It'd been a long time since Prismo smiled in earnest.

But now Scarab was gone. Well, not gone, but it's not like Prismo knew where he was.

The disappearing was relatively new.

Once, every few weeks or so (maybe, time was always strange here), Scarab would open a hatch to the Time Room's basement, slink away, and vanish for the rest of the day (probably). He'd be back after a while and not acknowledge he was even gone.

It never exactly sat well with the Wishmaster. What's with the sneaking around? Was he hiding something?

Maybe he thought Prismo wouldn't notice?

That would make sense, considering how Scarab would always cast quick glances at him before slinking away. Like he was checking if Prismo was watching.

Prismo shut his laptop. He pondered for a second.

Should he try and go find Scarab? He wanted to give him the privacy he deserved but this whole thing was starting to freak him out.

A small part of him wondered if perhaps he was looking for a certain sleeping old man.

Prismo shook his head, scolding himself for even the thought.

They were friends now.

Hopefully.

Maybe...?

Hmm.

The more he thought, the more he freaked himself out. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to just take a quick peek.

He sent duplicates down into the basement, just to poke around, of course.

One stood guard over his old, sleeping body. Just in case.

He pondered where Scarab would wander off to. The Time Core, perhaps? He always did have quite the awe for that place, despite how bright and loud it was in there.

But nope. Nothing.

He searched every nook and cranny of the Time Core, but nothing. No hint of blue on the wall, other than the light fromt the time waves.

Okay, plan A was a bust.

And while Prismo was pretty good with plan Bs, he didn't really come prepared with one for this adventure. Great.

Okay, it's fine, it's just one guy, potentially anywhere, in an infinitely extending downward pocket dimension that's walls could shift and move.

This was fine.

Prismo had to take a moment to breathe. Scarab managed to find his way back up before, so it's not like he was lost forever. Probably not.

He pondered if he should give up the search.

Until one of his duplicates passed through the pickle room on a whim. It was quiet. Almost too quiet to hear. But it was there. A soft chirping.

Almost all at once, Prismo's form condensed into that room as he looked around.

It was definitely Scarab's chirping. But was that also... crying?

Now Prismo was sweating. He'd known Scarab for eons, even before they became roommates. But he's never... never... heard Scarab cry before. No one had, as far as he knew.

He peered into one of the empty cubby shelves from his pickle stash, and... sure enough, there he was.

Scarab was curled up into as tight a ball as he feasibly could. His arms covered his head, and his knees tucked up into his chest. He laid on his side, shivering.

And... his mask was off. Granted, his face was covered by his arms and hands, but Prismo could see the spots of a lighter blue where his shell was parted.

The Wishmaster didn't know what to do. What could he do?

He gently reached a hand into the hole, fingers lightly brushing against the edge of Scarab's form.

"Scarab...?"

Several things happened at once.

Scarab's mask flew right back into place, save for his mouth, which he bared in a primal hiss. All his limbs shifted into some kind of spring-loaded position, ready to bolt at a moment's notice.

"Woah, woah, Scrabs, it's me. You know, your buddy, Prismo?"

But Scarab didn't relax. His growl ended, and he closed up the lower half of his mask, but none of the tension left his shoulders, his legs, his back, even though all of it was shaking.

"Go away!" the beetle hissed, swiping at Prismo's hand. It's not like it hurt, but it was enough to startle the Wishmaster into pulling back. Scarab seemed to regret the action almost immediately, tucking himself further back into the cubby. "Don't touch me!"

"Okay, okay, I won't touch you. But... what are you doing down here, buddy? Didn't think you were the type to enjoy pickling." He laughed to himself, but it puttered out when his friend didn't return the sentiment.

Scarab just kept his body low to the ground. Even behind the mask, Prismo could hear his mandibles clicking together. While he wasn't fluent in all the noises his roommate made, he could put together this one's meaning. He's afraid. Deathly so.

"...You I'm not gonna hurt you, right? Remember, we're friends. Friends don't hurt each other. Right?"

"...I-I'm sorry."

"It's okay, I startled you, I get it. But... can you tell me what's going on, dude? I've never seen you like this."

"It's... It's nothing! Nothing!"

It was a lie. An obvious one. A desperate one. Prismo didn't even have to say it. He just continued looking into Scarab's eyes.

"I... I won't do this again, if that's what you're concerned about..."

"That's not it, Scrabs. I just want to know what's going on. And... why the pickle room?"

Scarab seemed to consider his options in answers.

"...This is the only room with holes in the wall I can get to..."

"Why did you need a hole in the wall?" He gave Scarab a soft look, a little encouraging smile.

"It... It makes me... feel... safe."

Scarab ducked his head in shame. Prismo frowned at that, for many reasons.

"Did you feel... unsafe up in the main chamber? Did I do something wrong?"

"N-No... No, it isn't you... I just... I needed to feel isolated... just for a little while..."

"Is this where you've been going recently?"

"...Yes."

Prismo sighed.

"Scarab. You don't have to if you don't want to but... Can you tell me why you've been disappearing? I'm worried about you, dude." He slowly, gently extended a hand into the cubby again, leaving it a few inches away from Scarab's silhouette.

There were a few beats of silence before Scarab's little hand extended to rest overlapped with Prismo's. The Wishmaster smiled but didn't otherwise draw attention to it.

"I... I wanted to feel safe because... my body... even in this form, it fights against me."

"What do you mean?"

"...I'm in pain, Prismo. I'm in pain and disoriented. And... my instincts make me need to hide while I'm like this. This... is the closest I have to a burrow in the Time Room."

His voice sounded so small. Much smaller than Prismo ever would've suspected the might scary God Auditor Scarab to make.

"Oh... I'm sorry Scrabs, I didn't know..."

"No one does... When I... had my job, I could ignore it if it got this bad. I was always moving. On the hunt. I could avoid listening to my own body long enough for it to fade away. But now... the Time Room is so still... so... I've gone back to... hiding."

He said that last word with a lot more contempt than Prismo expected.

"Hey. Thank you for telling me, Scrabs. How about this. When you're feeling a bit better, you can come with me, and we can make you some better hiding spots than the pickle room cubbies. I bet it's not really relaxing when everything smells like vinegar, right?"

"I... I actually can't smell it much."

"...Really? I thought beetles and stuff had, like, really good smell. With their antenna and stuff?"

Scarab flinched at that. Prismo's eyes widened.

"...Scarab... Oh no..."

The beetle sighed, slowly scootching out of the cubby, closer to the Wishmaster. His mask rearranged slightly, showing the cropped little stumps where antenna clearly used to be.

"It's... part of why I'm here. It's... disorienting, some days... And... it's not the only reason..."

Scarab seemed to hesitate again.

"...You don't have to show me if you don't want to, Scrabs."

"...But I think I do... because... well..." he trailed off. He turned around, slowly opening his elytra. "...you make me feel safe, Prismo...

The Wishmaster swallowed down the gaps he felt trying to climb up his throat. He never thought about why he'd never seen Scarab fly, either in the Time Room, or on his hunts. But... he'd never suspected this to be the reason...

His wings looks awful. Or, more accurately, what was left of his wings. It resembled pages ripped out of a book, the edges jagged and tattered. One was bent at an awkward angle, twitching ever so slightly.

"Oh Scarab..."

What could he possibly say? Sorry? It'll be okay? There wasn't anything to add. So he didn't.

He reached slowly with his other hand. Scarab flinched a little when it began overlapping his back, but his shoulders eventually relaxed as Prismo began rubbing soft circles in the center.

"...Is there anything you'd like me to do, Scrabs?"

"...I'm usually able to ride days like these out if I just stay put... I can manage."

"Yeah, I guess but... is there something that could make you more comfortable? I like blankets, personally."

"I..."

Scarab looked to the ground, like he was pondering.

"I... Don't know... I've never... thought about it before."

"...Give me a few minutes. I'll be right back."

Prismo left a silent duplicate behind to continue petting Scarab's back as he went to make his little preparations. A lot was on his mind, top of which was "What happened?"

Because something clearly did. The injuries seemed too... deliberate to be just part of the dangers of being a God Auditor. It was too specific. It was meant to hurt, but not kill.

Prismo felt his form shiver and darken the more he thought about it. He shook his hand, watching the purplish black lighten back up into pink. He couldn't get mad yet, he was on a mission.

Just as promised, Prismo returned a few minutes later, now finding Scarab's eyes closed, lightly purring at the feeling of the hand on his back.

"Hey Scrabby. I've got a surprise for you. Can you walk, or do you need help?"

Scarab slowly opened his eyes again, looking at the Wishmaster carefully.

"...I can walk, I suppose. Just... slower than you might like."

"That's okay. It's not going anywhere."

The two walked through the halls of the Time Room's basement in relative silence. Prismo occasionally hummed, and Scarab sometimes joined in with a soft trill, but neither felt the need to speak at the moment.

"Alright man... here we are."

Prismo gestures to a new hole in the wall. Scarab raised an eyebrow, curiously crawling up the wall into the hole. The Wishmaster smiled at the surprised little gasp he heard.

Tucked into the back of the hole, which was much deeper and cozier than the pickle cubby, was essentially a nest. A soft heated blanket covered the bottom, a white noise machine, and a thermos of hot tea waited for Scarab.

"Prismo... you... you didn't have to do this..."

"I guess not. But... well, maybe I wanted to. I didn't know you were in pain, but now that I do, I'd be a pretty bad friend to let you wallow in it. So... think of this as your space to get away if you need it. We can make more when you're feeling better, but I think this is a good start, yeah?"

"This is... all mine?"

"Yep. There's a little remote in there too, with a little screen. If you want to watch something, or whatever. If need anything else, just push the big red button on the bottom, and I'll send a dupe down here to help."

"I..."

Scarab sounded like he was on the verge of tears again, but the beetle choked them back down.

"...Thank you, Prismo."

Prismo couldn't help but smile.

"Feel better soon, Scrabs. We still need to figure out the next chapter for this mystery drama we've been cooking up, yeah?"

Scarab let out a soft chuckle as he curled himself into the back of his hiding spot. "Yes, indeed."

The Wishmaster nodded before leaving the beetle to his rest. It wasn't common for him to help without a wish but... Well, he had a feeling he might be more than willing to bend the rules when it came to things like this.

And, with the tired smile in Scarab's eyes still fresh in his head, Prismo couldn't find it in him to mind.

[dream-meister-translations]

DREAM MEISTER & THE RECOLLECTED BLACK FAIRY

KAI - VOICE COLLECTION

━

"Ugh. Professor Est's assignment is so incredibly difficult. It's giving me a headache."

"Hey, you feeling okay? You're not pushing yourself too hard, are you?"

"Take a break today, it'll be fine."

"If you ever feel unwell, don't hesitate to rely on me."

"I'll make sure you recover properly."

"How's your health? Your body is your most valuable asset."

"If you feel any discomfort, let me know."

"Don't push yourself too hard. I'll heal everyone. Radiant light."

"Damn…I still have a lot to learn."

"We should make some medicine together later. I'll make sure to heal you properly."

"This is the first time Magia Seminar has ever had a Guild Keeper. If you ever run into any problems, just let me know.

"Leave injuries and illnesses to me."

"Don't neglect your efforts to stay healthy, okay?"

"You've really settled into the guild. Your support is great, I'm relying on you."

"Watching you makes me feel like I can't lose. It's seriously motivating…Keep up the good work!"

"The desire to help someone is the same for both doctors and Guild Keepers right? So many you and I will get along well."

"Between lectures and patient treatment, there's a mountain of things to do, but we can't afford to stop here."

"As long as you're here, I can chase my dreams without hesitation."

"Alright, let's start another day of medical care!"

"If you're not feeling well, it throws me off too. That's why I want you to let me nurse you back to health."

"Taking a leisurely stroll is good for your health. How about going for a walk today, Emma?"

"Ah, it's been a while since I took a walk! Let's have a good dinner tonight and get to bed early…"

"I've got quite a few piercings, you know. Even though I'm a doctor. Do you think it's a bit too flashy?"

"Did it hurt getting my piercings? Not at all."

"My piercings are like my good luck charms. I try not to lose them, but sometimes they vanish and it gets me all worried."

"Actually my little sister bought me these piercings. Pretty cool, right?"

"Could it be that you're thinking about getting a piercing too? If you do, make sure to disinfect properly."

"If you're scared, I can give you a piercing myself. I know how to make it painless."

"Hobbies, huh? That's a sudden one. Well, I enjoy going on little food adventures."

"I like hanging out with Ange. Even though she doesn't like me that much. At least I'm more liked than Sion, right?"

"I'm really into card games too. People often say it makes me childish, but what can I say, I like what I like."

"But you know, the best thing is when I'm learning with the others at Magia Seminar. Like when we decipher Sensei's cryptic lessons, or I mess around with Sion. It's a blast."

"Now that you're here, it's even more fun."

"It's kind of unsettling when someone's checking your pulse, right? Oh, wait, is that just me?"

"Your arm is pretty slender, isn't it? Are you eating properly? If I put too much pressure, it might just snap."

"You want me to check more? Is it that much fun for you? Haha, sometimes you act like a kid."

"Here, let me see your wrist. Huh? Did your pulse just speed up a bit? Why is that?"

"Your face is kinda red, too…Do you have a cold? Hmm…Doesn't seem like it."

"Doing this…It reminds me of the old n' days when I used to wander around aimlessly just for fun. Huh? Oh, I'll tell you about it sometime."

"Ah, I've been sitting in the clinic all day, so it feels nice to stretch my body. Alright, where are we heading today?"

"Huh? Is my hat a bit crooked? Weird. I thought I was wearing it like I always do. Anyway, thanks."

"Hats are pretty cool, right? They can hide bedhead in an instant, and, most importantly, they look stylish!"

"Whenever you reach up to fix my hat it's so cute. Haha."

"Heh, my bad. From now on, I'll squat down so you can fix my hat. Thanks."

"You know what, since we're talking about it, let's buy you a hat! We'll pick one out together!"

"Ah, thanks for the massage, you're a lifesaver, seriously. I've had a string of consultations lately, and I was getting really stiff and uncomfortable."

"Ah, your thumb is hitting just the right spot, right below the shoulder-blades."

"Whoa, that feels…Mmm…You're quite skilled, aren't you?"

"Your arm must be getting tired, right? Let's switch and I'll give you a massage. Just so you know, I'm really good at this."

"Damn, you're super tense. Been accumulating stress, huh? Even if you're busy, don't push yourself too hard."

"I've been relying on you for everything. I'll gladly give you a shoulder massage anytime. Just ask without hesitation, okay?"

"Thanks. Mmm…It's incredibly tasty! Want a taste of mine?"

"Hey, aren't you a bit too close? It's not that I dislike it, but well, it's just making me a bit nervous…"

"You must be tired. I can tell just by looking at your face. Don't push yourself, please."

"Being with you is a really soothing experience."

"Hey, what do you say we don't head home just yet? Let's take a detour."

"Sorry, I just don't feel like letting you go just yet. I'd like to spend a little more time alone together."

"You're quite assertive sometimes, you know? It's not that I mind, but…I can't help but worry about if you're this intimate with anyone other than me."

"Your hand is so soft…I didn't mean it that way!"

"You don't want to let go? That's a cute thing to say…Alright, let's keep walking hand in hand."

"Normally, I wouldn't let anyone touch my eyes, but with you it's perfectly fine. It's really strange, isn't it?"

"What's that? My eyes are beautiful? Aren't you going too far with that flattery?"

"I have dark circles under my eyes? Well, it doesn't bother me. Besides, even if I am tired, you're here to comfort me."

"Make sure you only show this side to me, okay? I don't want anyone else seeing you so defenseless."

"You know, being with you really lifts my spirits. I'd like to be your personal doctor. Haha, what am I even saying!"

"Wait, is this…A birthday present?! Even though you're so busy, you still made time to get me something? Oh man, I'm so happy I can't help but smile."

"Listen, Emma, a person only has two arms…Haha, I appreciate it, but really, it's too much."

Gift (Likes) : "Oh, I love this! My spirits just went through the roof! Thanks a bunch!"

Gift (Likes) : "Wait, you got this for me?! Woah! I'm honestly so happy about it. Um, how should I return the favor?"

Gift (Neutral) : "Oh, what's this? You got it for me? Thanks, I'll gladly take it!"

Gift (Dislikes) "Uh, well…You know, I was hoping for something a bit different. Did you maybe forget something?"

-

KAI : Hey, Oboro, there's a dried fruit mentioned in this book, but I'm having trouble with the drying process. Can you help me out?

OBORO : Before relying on others, did you make an effort to research it yourself? I won't lend my wisdom to a slacker like you.

-

KAI : I'll make sure I get a better score on the next assignment than you do…! Prepare yourself, Sion!

SION : You never get tired of saying that, do you? How about learning at least one magic circle while you're busy bickering with me?

-

KAI : Huh!? Est-sensei, you put chili peppers in the coffee again…? Consuming too many stimulants isn't good for you! It's not healthy!

EST : Actually, I feel much better with a little spice…Why don't you try it, Kai? If you get injured, let me know right away.

-

KAI : Don't slow me down, Sion!

SION : That's my line, you single-celled organism!

-

KAI : I'll heal you. So show them what you're made of.

OBORO : I'm not thrilled about this.

-

KAI : Hey Sion, you have a scratch. Let me heal it.

SION : Heal your own injuries first!

[tenebraevesper]

Sonic Cyber Revolution, Entry 47: Cream's Rough and Tumble Adventure

''Once upon a time you could be a bad guy, and you'd live to see another day. But now you'd never manage boy, you'd be brain damaged, just to think that you could get away!''

– Team Chaotix by Sonic Heroes (Team Chaotix Theme)

xXxXxXx

Touka took a deep breath, her feet aching as she, Shadow and Knuckles shared the couch in the clothes store. They were observing Rouge, Amy, Minami and Lily as they marveled over the clothes at this particular store, having been walking around for hours at a particular giant shopping mall in Sentoraru.

''I've only said that I wanted a pair of new sneakers. How did we end up like this?'' Touka muttered, sighing.

She had accepted Rouge's offer to go shopping with her, with Shadow accompanying them. Rouge then revealed that she also invited Amy, Minami, Knuckles and Lily, talking about how it would be a nice bonding time between girls, both Knuckles and Shadow pointed out how they're clearly not girls, and merely keeping their respective partners company. Rouge agreed with that, telling them how she would find some use for the two, managing to somehow rope them into carrying her bags. Touka had to admit that there was something scary about how Rouge just had to do some light teasing about how neither Knuckles nor Shadow would be able to last a shopping trip with her for the two to get fired up and tag along while also acting as the group's pack mules. It was obvious that she knew how to mess with their ego to convince them into doing whatever she wanted.

It also didn't help that, in Knuckles' situation, Lily was actually happy with this shopping trip and as her Guardian, he had to keep an eye on her. As for Touka, she was basically being dragged around by Rouge who tried to convince her to try on cute outfits, even though Touka was adamant that she didn't want to buy anything. She had already gone to the shoe store, found herself a pair of high top sneakers looking almost identical to her old ones, bought them and put them on. From her perspective, she was done, but she and, by proxy, Shadow just kept being dragged from one store to another.

''What do you guys say?'' Lily emerged from the dressing room, now wearing a red sundress and a matching cream sun hat.

''It really looks great on you!'' Rouge said, giving Lily a double thumbs up.

''It's a cute outfit!'' Amy said, with Minami nodding happily. Lily took a look in the mirror, humming.

''I don't know if it really matches my style… Knux, what do you think?'' she asked the red echidna.

''It looks quite flattering on you,'' Knuckles responded, with Lily turning back to the mirror.

''Maybe I should try on the lilac one with the star pattern,'' she said, with Rouge suddenly appearing next to her, carrying the dress in her hands.

''Here you go!'' she said. Lily then vanished back in the dressing room, with Rouge turning back to Amy.

''It's really great to have some girlfriends to go shopping with. It makes things much more fun,'' she said innocently, only to shoot a smug gaze towards Knuckles and Shadow. These two, in turn, were glaring daggers back at her, knowing full well they got set up, but were too stubborn to admit that they fell for it hook, line and sinker. Knuckles had also been planning to get revenge on Rouge for what happened the night before, but he couldn't plan anything like this.

''Oh, Touka!'' Touka suddenly got startled when Rouge appeared before her, carrying a short-sleeved tunic. ''What do you think about this? Do you want to try it on?''

''I…'' Touka glanced to the side, taking note of the annoyed look on Shadow's expression. Clearly, neither he nor Knuckles were going to protest against being dragged around because that would mean a victory for Rouge, with Touka figuring that she could allow the two a little break from this. ''Actually, I'm feeling hungry and I've been thinking if you guys want to go somewhere for lunch.''

''Well… I don't know. I'm not that hungry,'' Minami said, glancing at Amy. ''What about you Amy?''

Amy shook her head, and even Lily responded with a ''No, thanks! Maybe later!'' from the dressing room. Touka then glanced at Shadow and Knuckles. ''What about you two?''

''I wouldn't mind going for lunch,'' Shadow said in his usual business-like tone, but frankly, he was relieved to get a break from this. As for Knuckles, he was a bit torn.

''I'd like to go for lunch as well, but unfortunately, I cannot. I am Lily's Guardian, and I cannot leave her side even if it's just for lunch,'' Knuckles replied in a stoic tone, his arms folded across his chest, and his muzzle flushing red in embarrassment when he heard his stomach growl. Shadow gave him a look that just screamed 'You're wasting your opportunity'.

''You can leave if you want. I'll be with Minami, Amy and Rouge for the time being,'' Lily said, exiting the dressing room, now wearing the lilac dress. Knuckles, however, remained stubborn.

''While I trust Amy and Minami, I don't trust Rouge,'' he replied, with Shadow rolling his eyes as he heard this response. Rouge, on the other hand, giggled.

''What's the matter? Are you afraid that I'll rob this place?'' she asked, with Knuckles giving her an annoyed look. ''Don't worry, Knuckles. I have no reason for doing that since this isn't a jewelry store.''

''If it helps, Minami and I will keep an eye on Lily and Rouge,'' Amy added, giving Knuckles a sheepish smile. Knuckles remained silent for a moment, then sighed, getting up.

''Let's go then,'' he said, with Shadow and Touka following him outside. Once they were a bit further away, Touka groaned.

''Finally! I thought we'd never get a break,'' she said, only for Shadow to glare at her.

''Why did you suggest that earlier? We could've left ages ago,'' he asked in an irked tone.

''You could've also said something, but you didn't,'' Touka pointed out. ''Whether you want to admit it or not, Rouge played both of you.''

Both Shadow and Knuckles had a look of annoyance and defeat on their expressions, but still didn't want to admit that Touka was right.

''That's… an unfortunate blow. I need to learn how to read her better,'' Knuckles stated.

''So, have you two decided where should we go for lunch? If not, I actually saw a place I wanted to go to,'' Touka suddenly said, with Shadow and Knuckles exchanging glances, and then shaking their heads. ''Okay, then follow me.'' She had led the two to a rather peculiar place, which certainly didn't look like an ordinary food place. ''This is the vending machine café I saw when we passed through this part earlier. It looks like this is a self-service place where there are only vending machines with various food and drinks, as well as a dining area and no employees…''

''We're going inside,'' Shadow immediately said, with Touka letting out a soft giggle. She figured that, so long he didn't have to interact with anyone, he'd be fine, and she and Knuckles followed him inside.

''Let's see…'' Touka muttered as she looked around the café, while Shadow and Knuckles already walked ahead of her. Knuckles had found a vending machine dispensing various fruit and was currently eyeing the grapes on display. Meanwhile, Shadow beelined towards the coffee machine, selecting the black coffee option and waiting for it to brew. Touka walked over to her dark hedgehog, just as he picked up the cup of black coffee. ''I hope that you'll also buy some actual food to eat with that coffee.''

''What if I don't?'' Shadow responded in a deadpan tone. Touka huffed.

''Honestly, as your responsible older sister, I want to make sure that you eat properly,'' she responded. Shadow just gave her an irritated look, but did walk up to the food section of the café and looked at his options.

Meanwhile, Touka spotted a particular vending machine that sold cakes in a can and quickly walked over to it, picking the strawberry sponge cake option. She then started deliberating between the matcha and chocolate cake and mango and passionfruit option, when she got startled by a voice from behind.

''I hope that you'll also buy some actual food to eat with that cake.'' Touka turned around, seeing Shadow, who gave her a look of disapproval, arms folded across his chest, only for it to fade into a look of smugness. ''As your more responsible younger brother, I want to make sure that you eat properly.''

Touka, while annoyed, knew well that she had it coming, even though she had fun messing with Shadow. The two were then approached by Knuckles, who was carrying a plastic bag filled with grapes and happily munching on some. ''Is something wrong?''

''Nothing, just a bit of sibling banter,'' Touka said, turning to Shadow. ''Do you also want one?''

Shadow stepped next to her, looking at the products. ''I suppose they don't have tiramisu flavor.''

''No, but they have matcha and chocolate cake. I think you'll like that one,'' Touka said, with Shadow rising an eyebrow. Touka forced an irked smile. ''Don't worry, I'll buy myself something besides dessert so long as you get yourself something to eat as well.''

Both then just stared at each other, as if exchanging a conversation in their minds, while Knuckles was wondering what their problem was.

xXx

''Now, that was delicious!'' Touka said, leaning back in her seat, the box of hot chicken curry rice she had bought being empty. Knuckles was still eating his katsudon, having grabbed a fork since his gloves didn't exactly allow him to use chopsticks, while Shadow just finished the tonkotsu ramen, placing the plastic bowl on the table.

''It certainly was better than going to a restaurant,'' he said, glancing around. There were a few other people inside the café, either eating or ordering food from the vending machines, but nobody payed attention to them.

''What's wrong with a restaurant?'' Knuckles asked. Shadow just folded his arms, his eyes darting to the side.

''It's too noisy…'' he muttered, only to notice Touka offering him the matcha and chocolate cake in a cake she had bought for him, and took it from her. Knuckles just rose his eyebrow, but didn't think too much about it, while Shadow ate the dessert.

''From what I know, Neos City actually has a lot of restaurants for people who value their privacy. Kisaki actually took me once to an individual dining BBQ grill and hotpot restaurant,'' Touka said, opening the can with the strawberry sponge cake and took a bite. ''They did have a seating for two, and the food was also very delicious and cheap. She told me that, since she isn't at home due to work, I could go to those places to eat.''

''Do they also have an all-you-can-eat buffet?'' Knuckles asked, with Touka nodding. ''Then I'll have to ask Lily whether she'd want to go there. She had told me that she wanted to try out new things, an an all-you-can-eat buffet was on her list.'' He then placed the fork into the empty bowl. ''I wonder if she, Amy and Minami are done shopping. For all I know, Rouge could be holding them hostage.''

Touka snorted, while Shadow rolled his eyes, responding, ''I sincerely doubt that.''

''I still need to find a way to get my revenge… Do you two have any suggestions for how to approach this situation?'' Knuckles asked, giving both Touka and Shadow a serious look. ''After all, you have been teammates with Rouge for the past few days.''

''Honestly, I'd rather stay out of this situation,'' Touka replied, her and Shadow having heard what exactly happened the previous night from Rouge. Both of them were stunned by Rouge's bold move and decided that they didn't want to involve themselves with this.

''I agree. This is between you and Rouge,'' Shadow added.

''Thanks for nothing, both of you,'' Knuckles replied in an irked tone. Touka just gave him a sheepish smile, while Shadow's expression remained impassive. They were all done with their lunch and were prepared to leave, when they suddenly heard crying from outside. The booth they were sitting at had a one-way window, showing them the inside of the shopping mall inside and outside it had an advertisement for the café. All three looked to their side, seeing a security guard trying to calm down a crying rabbit ARNav.

This rabbit was small, cream-furred, with cinnamon-brown eyes, a small brown nose, and a white muzzle. She had princeton orange markings around her eyes, on her head and at the tips of her long ears. She also had one long eyelash on each eye, and a short, fluffy tail that stuck out of her dress. For attire, she wore a simple sleeveless vermilion dress with a white collar and a light blue cravat, white gloves with a gold cufflink on each cuff, white socks, and vermilion and yellow slip-on shoes with gray soles. Her ears also had pink-colored canals, and were swiveled back and flop behind her head.

Flying next to her and trying to comfort her was a little creature resembling some kind of fairy. This creature was light lapis blue and had light honey mustard yellow markings at the tip of their head, hands, feet and tail, a bulb-shaped head, a floating light honey mustard yellow ball hovering above the top of their head that changed appearance corresponding to their emotions, lapis blue eyes, two light fuchsia/magenta pink butterfly-like wings and a small circular tail. The creature also had a cherry red bow tie.

''What's going on?'' Touka asked, with her, Shadow and Knuckles getting up, wondering if the rabbit ARNav was in some kind of trouble. The security guard, meanwhile, looked rather uncomfortable as he had no clue how to comfort the young rabbit.

''I'm sorry, but the next bus is scheduled to return in two hours, not earlier, and as for the ruffians that stole your package, all we can do is to write a complaint. I cannot help you find them if they aren't at the shopping mall,'' he said.

''Is something wrong?''

The security guard, the rabbit ARNav and the blue fairy turned to Touka, Shadow and Knuckles, who gave them questioning looks, albeit the security guard did note that the dark hedgehog and red echidna glared at him, clearly thinking that he was behind the little rabbit crying.

''Do you know her?'' the security guard asked in return. Touka shook her head, with the rabbit wiping her tears and sniffling, giving her, Shadow and Knuckles a pleading look with her big eyes. She was in so much distress, and the three had no clue why they felt like this, but they immediately felt compelled to help her. Call it big sister/big brother/Guardian instinct, but all three made the decision to take action.

''My name is Touka Kageura, and these guys are Shadow and Knuckles. Could you please tell me who you are and what happened?'' Touka crouched down to be at the rabbit's height, asking her in a gentle tone. The rabbit nodded.

''M-My name is Cream and this is Cheese. We were supposed to deliver a package to my mother, but we got lost and then two bullies stole the package, and now we don't know what to do,'' Cream explained, with Cheese patting her back in order to console her.

''I'm sure that we can help you,'' Knuckles said, stepping up. ''All we need to know is who those thugs are and we'll get your package back.''

''Really?'' Cream wiped her tears off, giving them a hopeful look. ''Thank you so much for helping me out!''

''Chao, chao!'' Cheese cheered. Cream smiled, giving them a look of relief. The security guard who was with them had left, quite relieved to not have to deal with this, while Knuckles, Shadow and Touka followed Cream and Cheese outside, with Cream pointing at a particular spot.

''That's where I got attacked. Those two bullies were so mean,'' Cream said. Knuckles hummed in thought.

''There are a lot of people here, so someone must've seen what had happened,'' he said. ''Still, if we want to go search for them, we are going to need professional help. We should get Team Chaotix on the case.''

''The Chaotix are situated in Eas. Even if we leave now, it will take us some time to get there and back,'' Shadow pointed out. ''Any trail we have here might go cold by that point.''

''Well, we could use Chaos Control to warp to Eas, get the Chaotix and warp back,'' Touka suggested. Shadow went silent for a moment, glancing at Cream, who gave him an innocent and hopeful look, then narrowed his eyes. He was not going to let her down.

''We'll do that,'' he said, with the three taking note of Cream and Cheese's smile of relief. They couldn't help but feel glad to see these two so happy.

xXx

''I see, so two ARNav ruffians have stolen an important package from you and now you need to get it back,'' Vector said, then grinned. ''Don't worry, kid. The Chaotix will take care of this in no time.''

''Thank you so much!'' Cream clasped her hands, her eyes sparking in joy. Cream, Cheese, Knuckles, Shadow and Touka had warped to the Chaotix Detective Agency, giving Vector, Espio and Charmy a quick rundown on what had happened.

''Well, that's our job. We need to know how those two ruffians look like. Could you give us a description?'' Vector asked, with Charmy suddenly flying up, holding a paper and crayons.

''We could also make a sketch,'' he said. Cream nodded, instructing Charmy on what the thieves looked like, while Vector and Espio turned to the rest of the group.

''So, where did this theft take place?'' Vector asked.

''At the Supernova Shopping Mall in Sentoraru,'' Touka replied.

''We should leave as soon as possible as Charmy and Cream are done with the sketch,'' Espio said. ''If it's a place like the shopping mall, there should be witnesses we can question.''

Speaking of the sketch, Charmy and Cream walked up to them, holding two pieces of paper showing very crude drawings of two skunk ARNavs. Charmy was particularly proud of his sketch. ''There! We should find these two in no time!''

Vector and Espio felt Knuckles, Shadow and Touka's eyes on them, with Espio sighing. ''Look, we don't have the resources for a more professional drawing.''

''This should be enough. After all, how many skunk ARNavs looking like this walk around in Neos City?'' Knuckles said.

xXx

''Haha, that was amazing bro!''

''Don't mention it bro! Those weaklings had it coming!''

Two skunk ARNavs were laughing their ass off after managing to bully and scare another victim into giving the duo their hoverboard and run away in fear.

One of the skunk ARNavs was medium-sized with blue-gray and cream fur. He had a tall, cream mohawk that extended down to his back. He had cheek tuffs on the sides of his cream-colored muzzle and had a scruffy hairstyle along with a long, cream-striped tail that could extend over his own head. He beared a blue-grey V-shaped patch on his cream white-furred chest. He also beared pink canals, a black nose, and sharp teeth. His eyes were red with yellow sclera along with thick black outlines along the outer corners. For attire, he wore amber gloves with white volar surfaces and amber boots with tan volar surfaces, a red oval on the tongues and cream soles, both having red lining on the wrists and ankles, and white socks.

The other skunk ARNav was muscular and tall with cream and beige fur. His mohawk ran down his back with his cream stripes reaching the ends of the stub where his tail once was. He had quite scruffy fur, with his chest and muzzle looking connected. He had a pink nose with a triangular shape and short ears. He beared a W-shaped patch in the center of his chest and beared fangs. Around his black eyes with red sclera, he had extremely defined purple bags under his eyes. For attire, he wore two black, spiked bracelets with gold buckles on them and wore black and gray boots also with golden buckles.

Both of the skunk ARNavs intertwined their arms, grinning in malicious glee, and exclaiming in unison, ''Nobody can stand up to ROUGH AND TUMBLE! We're the best!''

''Setting up camp at Supernova Shopping Mall was a great idea. We just have to look at people and take whatever we want, and nobody can do anything to stop us,'' Rough said, grabbing the hoverboard he and his brother stole and started playing with it.

''Yeah, but I wish they had something better than just clothes or toys or hoverboards… Why doesn't anyone buy weapons? Or a tail?'' Tumble asked, giving his tail-stump a sad gaze.

''That's because they're not as smart as us. But don't cha worry, I'm sure we'll score big soon. We also got that package we nabbed from that rabbit,'' Rough said, pointing at the white box on the nearby dumpster lid. ''That kid fought like a maniac for it. It must be valuable.''

''Then why don't we just open it? Com'n, bro! I want to see what's inside!'' Tumble asked.

''Haven't ya heard of the saying 'best for last'? We should first see what else we can get and then open the box up when we're back at our lair,'' Rough replied, grinning.

''I guess that makes sense,'' Tumble said, immediately agreeing with his brother. Both of them were then looking out of their hiding spot at the crowd that was entering and leaving the shopping mall, and to their surprise, they did spot Cream and Cheese, now in the company of a crocodile, a chameleon, a bee, a hedgehog, an echidna and a human girl, all of them questioning the people around the mall, looking as if they were searching for something… or someone. Tumble rose an eyebrow. ''Hey, bro, isn't that the rabbit from earlier?''

''Yeah, and she decided to tattle,'' Rough growled. Both were observing as another kid talked the crocodile, only to feel a cold sensation when the kid pointed towards where they were hiding. The crocodile then called for the rest of the group and started walking towards the alleyway where Rough and Tumble were at.

''Uh, bro, we got discovered!'' Tumble said. But, instead of panicking, he and Rough exchanged. ''Finally, there's gonna be some action!''

Meanwhile, the Chaotix, Knuckles, Shadow, Touka got a lead, with Cream and Cheese following them with a worried look on their expression. She walked up to Shadow, giving him a slight look of guilt. ''I hope that none of you will get hurt because of me, Mr. Shadow.''

''No one will get hurt besides the bullies who stole from you, Cream,'' Shadow replied, but Cream remained concerned. ''We're all capable fighters.''

''I don't really like fighting. Mother always said that I should resolve any arguments peacefully,'' Cream replied, lowering her head, only to look up and smile. ''But, I'm happy about the support.''

''Chao!'' Cheese cheered, glad to see Cream cheering up. Shadow nodded in response, only to stop when they arrived at an alleyway between two buildings. Vector, Espio and Charmy glanced into the alleyway, spotting several stolen things lying on the ground and a dumpster positioned in the middle of the alleyway. As the group entered it, two skunk ARNavs suddenly leapt from behind the dumpster and onto it.

''Prepare to be in awe-''

''Because we're ready to rumble-''

''Meet the Skunk Bros, Rough and Tumble!''

The Chaotix, Cream, Cheese, Knuckles, Shadow and Touka were a bit baffled by this sudden entrance, with Rough and Tumble striking a pose in hopes to intimidate them. Knuckles narrowed his eyes and took a fighting pose.

''Be careful, these guys are highly coordinated,'' he said. Shadow, who was standing next to him, had his arms crossed on his chest and the most unimpressed look he could manage. Only a couple of days ago, he had defeated one of the most dangerous entities on Earth, and now he was dealing with two ruffians. They were nothing to him.

''They're not a threat to us,'' Shadow responded. Vector crackled his knuckles.

''If you're done with your introduction, then it's our turn!'' Vector fist-pumped, as he continued in a mix of sing-song tone and rap-speaking, ''Team Chaotix! We're detectives you want on your side! Team Chaotix! We have directives, tracking down your crime! Come along for the ride, truth can run but not hide! For long, the game is on now!''

''Shut up! You can't just steal our thing!'' Tumble growled, suddenly leaping in order to punch Vector, but the crocodile dodged it and swung with his heavy tail, sending Tumble flying and slamming against the dumpster. ''Grrr, not fair! You have a tail and I don't! You'll pay for that!''

''Leave them to me, bro!'' Rough now leapt in, only to be forced to dodge when Espio suddenly fired a barrage of shuriken at him. He grinned, only to cry in pain when Charmy stung him in the back. While the skunk brothers were busy with the detectives, Cream had spotted the box she was supposed to deliver on the ground and quickly ran over to it to pick it up, but before she could do that, she was grabbed by the scruff of her dress by Rough.

''Not so fast, kid! We stole that package fair and square and you ain't getting it back!'' Rough growled, with Cream trembling back in fear. He then saw Knuckles and Shadow rushing over to him, only to hold up Cream like a meat shield before him. ''If you two try anything, the kid will get hurt!'' Knuckles and Shadow shot him a glare, but didn't move as they feared for Cream's safety. ''Oi, detectives! Let my brother go!''

Vector, Espio and Charmy, who had managed to corner Tumble, turned towards Rough and Cream, and then slowly backed away. Both Rough and Tumble grinned, realizing that no one was going to do anything while they had Cream with them. As for Cream, she gave her newfound friends an apologetic look.

''I'm so sorry, this is all my fault!'' she cried out.

''Don't worry, kid, we'll get you out of there in no time! Crooks like these two won't get away so easily,'' Vector assured her. Cream gasped in surprise when Rough suddenly placed her down, keeping a tight grip on her arm.

''That's what you think, leatherhead!'' Rough replied, with Cream feeling her arm bruising. She suddenly spotted an angry Cheese shouting at the skunk brothers, clearly demanding to let go of her. But the skunk brothers just laughed at the Chao.

''Oh, and what do you think you'll do, squirt?'' Tumble asked while laughing his ass off. Cream and Cheese exchanged determined glances, with Cream exhaling in resignation.

''I really really don't like to fight but… it can't be helped,'' she said, then took a deep breath and shouted, ''Cheese, get them!''

Rough and Tumble stopped laughing when suddenly they were hit with a barrage of punches from Cheese, causing Rough to let go of Cream and allowing her to escape. ''Why is that little thing so vicious?!''

Once she stopped next to Touka, Cream turned around. ''Cheese, I'm safe!''

Cheese then flew back to her, with Rough and Tumble turning towards the group, clearly furious about this humiliating defeat. They were about to get their revenge, but their eyes widened in shock when Knuckles and Shadow suddenly appeared, punching both of them in the gut and sending them flying and hitting the ground hard.

''Ughh… What happened, bro?'' Tumble asked, still dazed from what had happened.

''I don't know, bro…'' Rough replied, rubbing his head, only for both him and Tumble to get startled when they saw Knuckles and Shadow approaching them with murderous looks on their expressions, both of them ready to beat the two skunks up. ''Uh, bro?''

''Yes, bro…'' Tumble glanced at his brother.

''Let's scramble!'' Rough suddenly shouted, with both getting up and running away, shouting, ''This wasn't the last you heard of Rough and Tumble!''

''Scramble doesn't even rhyme with Tumble,'' Knuckles said, glancing at Shadow, who looked like he was about to go after them, but decided against it. They turned back to Cream, who managed to pick up her package, while the Chaotix and Touka picked up the stuff the skunk brothers had stolen.

''We should bring these to mall security to they can return them to their owners,'' Espio said. Vector nodded, grinning in satisfaction.

''I'd say that this was another case completed,'' he said, only for his expression to fall. ''Although, I suppose we won't get payed for this.''

Espio elbowed him, with Vector giving him a sheepish look, while Charmy just laughed. Cream and Cheese approached them, both smiling happily.

''Thank you so much for helping me! If you have free time, you could come to my house for tea,'' Cream told them.

''I guess that wouldn't be a bad thing,'' Vector said, glancing at Espio and Charmy, who nodded in agreement. ''Yeah, we have free time!''

''Great!'' Cream then turned towards Knuckles, Shadow and Touka. ''You are also invited!''

The three in question also agreed. If anything, they could at least accompany Cream and Cheese back home. Touka then turned to Cream with a curious look on her expression. ''I was wondering, what's in that package?''

''You'll find out once we're back home,'' Cream told her.

xXx

Once they had arrived at Cream and Cheese's home, which was at a suburban area at the eastern side of Kita, they were greeted by another Chao, this one being brown in coloration and wearing a light blue bow tie. The Chao was then followed by Cream's mother, a tall, cream-furred anthropomorphic rabbit with a white muzzle, a small brown nose, brown eyes, and a tuft of dark orange hair on her forehead. She had brown eyelids and dark orange markings around her eyes and on the ends of her lopped ears. For attire, she wore a long lavender dress with a white trim at the bottom of the puffy sleeves and the skirt, a burgundy-fitted vest with golden buttons, a blue or orange ascot, white gloves with gold cufflinks, burgundy low-heeled shoes with a yellow detail and gray soles, and pink lipstick.

''Oh, my, Cream, Cheese; are you okay?'' Cream's mother checked on her daughter. ''You've been away for much longer than I had expected.''

''I'm sorry, Mother, but I got lost and then there were those two bullies who stole my package…'' Cream said, trailing off, but then gave her mother a confident look. ''But, my friends helped me to get it back, so I asked them to stay over for tea as a 'Thank you'.''

''That's really kind of you, sweetheart.'' Cream's mother turned to the group, giving them a kind smile. ''My name is Vanilla, and I want to thank you for helping my daughter. I hope it wasn't much of a trouble.''

''Heh, don't worry, Miss Vanilla. It was no trouble at all,'' Vector said, rubbing the back of his head and giving Vanilla a surprisingly nervous and shy look, feeling his own heart beating fast the moment he saw her. Espio and Charmy gave him a questioning look, wondering why Vector was acting so strange. ''It is our job as detectives to help people.''

''Hey, Vector, why are you so flustered?'' Charmy asked. Vector froze, suddenly turning to Charmy with an annoyed look.

''I'm not flustered,'' he hissed, with Espio sighing as Charmy remaining confused.

''Don't worry, I'll explain it to you when you're older,'' Espio told Charmy. Behind them, Touka cracked a grin, glancing at Knuckles and Shadow.

''I suppose you two can relate to Vector,'' she said, with Knuckles and Shadow giving her a puzzled look.

''What are you talking about?'' Shadow asked her, shooting her a glare. Touka snorted.

''You'll figure it out soon enough,'' she said. Vanilla then clapped her hands.

''Then, let's go prepare the table for tea,'' she said, turning to the two Chao. ''Cheese, Chocola, you can help Cream with the pie.''

''Chao, chao!'' Cheese and Chocola responded in unison, with Cream turning to her newfound friends, showing them what was inside the package.

''That's what I was supposed to deliver. Mother had sent me to get the cheesecake pie we had ordered from the bakery,'' she explained.

''Can't believe that Rough and Tumble went through all that trouble just for a pie,'' Touka said, giggling in amusement, only to hum in thought. ''Uh, is it just me or did we forget about something?''

''What do you mean?'' Shadow asked, only to get an answer from Knuckles whose eyes widened.

''We forgot about Lily, Rouge, Amy and Minami at the shopping mall!'' he said.

xXx

Rouge huffed, tapping with her foot, while she, Amy, Minami and Lily were waiting at the entrance to the shopping mall. ''How could Knuckles forget about us?''

''I guess he got caught up in something, along with Touka and Shadow,'' Lily said. Rouge just pouted, folding her arms.

''You'd think that he would put a bit more effort now that I'm back,'' she said. Lily, Minami and Amy exchanged sly glances.

''I don't think you'll have to worry about that. From what I've seen, you live in Knuckles' head rent free,'' Lily replied. Rouge grinned.

''That's a consolation I'm happy to accept.''

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[lackadaisy-headcanon-supply-unit]

Hi I hope this isn't too much trouble but

Can you do a child rocky x child reader? (The reader has a younger sister in this) fluff to angst to fluff It's basically how rocky met reader and their sister as kids and then one day reader and their sister have to move (you can decide why if you want) and rocky gets sad by this but they meet again as adults working together at lackadaisy

(Hope this isn't too much)

I probably fudged a few things from canon here, so forgive me if anything is put in the wrong place in his timeline.

So imagine you’re Rocky for a moment. You’re bouncing between two households because your mom’s in and out of someplace you can’t go and your dad couldn’t be fucked to look after you. Aunt Nina’s great and all, Freckle’s swell, but you’re getting the wires crossed on what’s home and what’s temporary lodging. And then a kitten your age and her sister (Freckle’s age) move in next door.

Y/N and her family expected a welcoming party and boy did they get it. Aunt Nina baked a little something, dressed up her boy and her sister’s unfortunate little drifter and brought them over. Rocky kept up a  “prim and proper” facade until Y/N peered out from behind their parent’s leg and it was torn down in favour of talking at a mile a minute. Before Y/N likely knew what was happening they were invited outside and listening to Rocky lay the foundation for a pretend adventure story while his cousin looked sheepish and their sister was utterly enraptured.

His Designated Second Best Friend (second Only to Freckle, his Platonic Soulmate) having moved in, things started to become a little more solid for Rocky. Which is a good thing, because about as soon as he and Y/N declared each other best friends Nina got the news that his mother was gone, his father had vanished into thin air and custody of Rocky had gone to her.

So he was both uprooted and barely moved. Y/N and their sister sat with him at the wake held at Nina’s house, but he was a little confused and ashamed of himself because he hardly remembered his mother. She got sick when he was about four years old. Now seven, the only memories he had were foggy at best.

That was the start of a tough time for him. He acted out more often yet couldn’t understand why. He had anger outbursts that ended in grounding and forgot about them. Since whatever was going on upstairs couldn’t be diagnosed at the time, nobody had any idea what was going on in his furry little head. Yet Freckle and Y/N stuck by him through it, even after he shaved Freckle’s face and deliberately slammed Y/N’s tail in a door to see if he could break it. (They forgave him, but they also tucked in their tail or wore it in a belt for a little while after.)

Idle curiosity turning deadly aside, he was wonky but stable. Y/N’s family suddenly having to move away after a house fire was a hit to his morale, but he was fine. Yep, perfectly fine. Until he got kicked out. But that was fine too, because he could share letters with Freckle.

After spending a few years doing whatever the Hell he felt like and bouncing around from place to place (his favourite stint being at a circus), he was back in Saint Louis. Home sweet home.

He wound up in a speakeasy band as the violinist (and rum running part time). It wasn’t a bad gig, all things considered. It was nice to be able to improvise and not set everything on fire because of it, Zib gave him the leeway to go wild if he saw fit, it was nice to see the place fill up every night and the people liked tolerated noticed

Well, it was nice to see the place fill up. He even started picking out a familiar face here or there after a few months.

When Ivy started bringing a newly-of-college-age queen in with her, Rocky took notice. Something about the girl felt strangely familiar. Was it the bold glint in her eye that commanded adventure or the strange little lisp in her voice? Maybe she never grew out of it.

Ivy caught on to Rocky’s notice of her and dragged her over to meet him after a set…Along with a genderless feline whom Rocky would recognize anywhere. The rest of the pieces fell into place then and there.

The reunion between Y/N and Rocky was unfortunately cut short due to a silly little shootout over a few bottles, but the two got away safely so there’s no harm done. They’ll be back.

The thought of seeing Y/N and their sister again gives Rocky new appreciation for Lackadaisy. The place gave him a safe space, some friends acquaintances and even brought his best friend back to him.

[britishassistant]

Gale’s Excellent Adventure (3)

Once upon a time, the sight of Elminster strolling into his general vicinity would be cause enough itself for gladness and joy.

Now though, as Gale watches the wizard follow the scouting party into their camp among the strange red-leaved trees, he’d do anything to ensure the man vanished into thin air as he’s so fond of doing whenever the tab comes due.

“Elminster? What are you doing here?” He hears himself ask.

“The very same, Gale.” His old friend scolds. “And a fair bit miffed he is too, finding himself forced to expose his best pair of boots to so many miles of country road on your behalf. Why, if your young friend hadn’t lead me here, I’d be wandering still.”

Yuu ducks their head as they mumble a reply, skin slightly too dark and too vivid a pink to really show them blushing. It dawns on Gale that they might be starstruck.

The already short wick of his patience is rapidly dwindling with every passing moment.

“Yes, yes, yes, be that as it may, you said you’ve come here on my behalf, did you not? For what purpose?”

“I was bid to spare neither time nor my own self to find you.” The older wizard intones. “She sent me, Gale. You know of whom I speak.”

He can’t feel his fingertips or toes. There’s a feeling weighing down the pit of his stomach, but he’s unable to tell if it is elation or despair.

“But why?!” He hears his own voice demand. “Out with it Elminster, tell me!”

“Young man, has your time away from Waterdeep washed away your decorum as well as your patience?!” The scolding tone is a familiar but unwelcome reminder of Gale’s mentoree days, usually when he’d forgotten to take proper precautions. “Nigh a tenday I’ve gone without honest fare worthy of the name—drank naught but what the sky entitled my thirst! Why, some bread, cheese, and a cup of wine would appear unto me a feast! Surely you won’t begrudge me a mite of rest and respite before I get ‘out with it’?”

“We can always share a meal afterwards.” Yuu offers diplomatically. “Gale’s cooking is excellent, and it’s always best to enjoy the small pleasures only once all business has been cleared out of the way.”

Elminster inclines his head, a grandfatherly smile on his face. “And a great kindness that would be, my child. Even now, I do treasure my fond memories of his culinary talents! See Gale? Even in these barren parts, the art of hospitality can beget inspired new acts if only one keeps up the practice.”

“Oh, for the love of…” He mutters, rolling his eyes.

“Fine, fine!” Elminster raises his hands, a twinkle Gale does not trust in his eyes. “I’ll turn a deaf ear to the clarion calls with which my scorned stomach beseeches me. Graver matters are at hand. Plenty to digest, after all. A good deal to stew over, if you will. Words ladled with import should be savored so as to better absorb their meaning, wouldn’t you agree?”

And there goes the last of Gale’s patience. “Elminster!”

A shadow comes over Elminster’s face, dropping the facade of genial old man he enjoys donning to delight the unwary.

After hemming and hawing for a moment, the older wizard sighs. “Gale, m’boy, I’ve come to address a most pressing matter. So I shall speak plainly, without any of the frills that usually ornament my speech.”

Gale feels his throat go dry. There’s a sudden warmth at his side, and he looks down to see Yuu glancing up at him, concern writ in their brow.

“I’m here on behalf of Mystra. The message and charge I bring you are hers.” Elminster says, slowly.

“Wait, so you’re here as an actual, divine messenger?” Yuu pipes up. “Is this usual for you, Master Elminster?”

“Oh yes,” Gale adds, leaning in conspiratorially. “After all, it would hardly do for Mystra to ever deign to dirty her delicate feet on these roads. What if she gained a callus?”

He feels rather proud of Yuu’s surprised snort of laughter, and of Elminster’s disapproving stare at the two of them.

“You know where you went wrong, Gale. We needn’t dwell on that here and now. But even so, you are to be given a chance at redemption.”

He can hardly believe it, his heart soaring. “Mystra is considering forgiveness?”

Elminster sucks in his teeth. “She is considering what she considers forgiveness. Mystra knows well of your misadventures, and how they have brought you into contact with that more dire of evils, the Absolute. Given that she is forbidden from interceding herself by Lord Ao, she feels it is imperative that, given you have provided yourself with the perfect subterfuge through misrepresentation, you ought to obtain absolution through ensuring this threat is annihilated in such a way that is nigh unutterable in its thoroughness. In such a way that only you are capable of unleashing.”

Gale’s not sure he can feel his limbs. His head feels somehow light, floaty.

“I beg your pardon?” Yuu asks, voice gone low and dangerous.

“Mystra wants me to detonate the orb in my chest to end the Absolute.” Comes his voice, as though from far away.

“I, I understood that bit, although I will say my informed and final response is fuck that and fuck Mystra all the way to Amn.” There’s a flare of warmth and slight pinching around part of him that Gale determines is his hand once he focuses. “But what in all the hells does ‘subterfuge through misrepresentation’ mean?”

Somehow, impossibly, Gale feels his blood run even colder.

“While I know not your reasons for doing so, Mystra has judged that you have done well to pass yourself off as infected, to integrate yourself with these fine adventurers who were key to uncovering this cult’s machinations.” Elminster continues, condemning him almost gently. “But she decrees it is time to end the theatrics, Gale. You have placed yourself into the prime position to destroy the Absolute, and earn Mystra’s forgiveness. I have been instructed to gift you the means to do so.”

The feeling of the orb’s grasping hunger suddenly diminishing as if muffled does nothing to soothe the looming dread he feels hanging over his head.

“Gale, what’s—this is. What he’s saying is all nonsense, isn’t it?” Yuu beseeches, horror evident in their tone. “Isn’t it?”

Gale opens his mouth, to tell a lie, to explain himself—!

Under the teenager’s piercing gaze, he finds it closing without a sound. His shoulders slump.

A myriad of emotions flash across their face as they stumble away from him, each slipping away like quicksilver before he can identify what they could possibly be.

They bury their head in their hands and let out a short, slightly despairing scream.

“Yuu?” Comes Shadowheart’s worried query, like she and everyone else haven’t been eavesdropping from the first word. “Is everything all right?”

“Right.” Yuu states, pinching the bridge of their nose. “Right. Raise your hand if you knew that Gale does not have an illithid tadpole in his head.”

There’s a moment of silence.

“What?!” Astarion laughs, only a tad too high-pitched. “Why darling, that’s patently ridiculous!”

“Yes,” Shadowheart cuts in quickly, a conciliatory smile on her lips. “If he didn’t, we’d have all noticed in a matter of days, right?”

“R-right!” Wyll confirms. “And besides, Gale’s been nothing but a loyal and faithful companion to us for our entire journey thus far.”

“Too right!” Karlach agrees. “He didn’t even eat that many boots, really!”

“The wizard is integral to this camp.” Lae’zel insists. “Even with the ghaik tadpole, losing him would be the gravest error a fool could make.”

“So all of you then.” Yuu concludes with a fold of their arms.

“Every last one of you knew Gale was uninfected, and yet none of you saw fit to tell me, even when you knew we would be bringing him face to face with the Absolute’s forces? Knew what could have happened to him, if Minthara, or Priestess Gut, or the duergar had worked out he was uninfected?”

There is a long, uncomfortable silence.

“Well—!” Wyll starts.

“And don’t say we would’ve been able to protect him, because how could we properly arrange that if not everyone knew he needed it?!” Yuu blinks furiously, voice growing strained. “Gods, it’s just—! What did I do that—?! You do know I care about all of your wellbeings, right?!”

He blinks at them, discomforted at the not unfamiliar feeling of being chastened.

Karlach murmurs, “Course we do, soldier. Course.”

“Then in that vein,” Yuu jerks themself upright, advancing on Elminster so quickly it gives Gale whiplash. “Master Aumar, you would say that a great deal of your current notoriety and positive reception among the general public of Faerûn is contingent on the stories various bards, including the renowned Volothamp Geddarm, have spread about your magical prowess, yes?”

Gale is unsure that they should be calling the man who attempted amateur eye surgery on them “renowned”.

At any rate, Elminster humors them by nodding along. “Well, I would owe a certain part of my acclaim to Volo and others of his ilk, yes.”

“So you would agree that if, all of a sudden, those stories suddenly took a turn that cast you as a villain, a, a reviled cad whose deeds even devils frowned upon, your current existence and reputation would become much harder to maintain?” Their head is cocked to the side like some sort of demented corvid, eyes blazing coldly. “Or, for example’s sake, the existence and reputation of a goddess who may not thrive on faith but would certainly be diminished from her current station by a lack of it? By people renouncing their worship, tearing down her temples, that sort of thing?”

Elminster, Gale notes with a certain amount of trepidation, is no longer smiling. “Take heed of your words, young one. What are you implying?

“Nothing, really. Just, it’d be an awful shame if Mystra’s cult became as accursed as that of Bhaal or Bane.” Yuu murmurs silkily. “And let me assure you, Master Aumar. If anything happens to Gale of Waterdeep, I will personally ensure that Mystra is ripped from the Weave so I can hunt her down like the dog she is.”

Gale can’t quite hear what Elminster says in response to that. His heart is beating too loudly in his ears.

Yuu tilts their head. “You were the one to pronounce us god-killers. You don’t get to be surprised when we say we’ll fulfill the role you’ve given us. But perhaps I’m getting ahead of myself. All those in favor of telling Gale’s miserable ex to sod off?”

“Aye.” Wyll’s voice startles him as the Blade of Frontiers appears at his side.

“Aye.” Shadowheart steps out of nowhere to flank his other side, mace in hand.

“Fuck yeah.” Karalch snarls, looming in a way that promises barely contained violence.

“If this so-called goddess cannot recognize the intelligence and guile of one of her most exalted paramours, then she is far from worthy of the title.” Lae’zel decrees, one hand on the hilt of her greatsword.

“Well,” Astarion heaves a dramatic sigh. “It would be such a waste of a perfectly good cult. And a perfectly good Gale too, I suppose.”

He can’t help rolling his eyes, even as he has to blink away the sudden wetness springing to them.

“My child, I have no wish to place Gale in harm’s way,” Elminster soothes. “He is a dear friend, and nothing would make me happier than to see him whole, happy, and freed of the orb. But as Mystra’s chosen, I have the duty to deliver whatever missives she demands. The obligation to see them through, however, is something I am happily liberated from.”

Yuu’s hackles are still raised, so Gale attempts to clear the frog in his throat and sets a hand on their arm. “Thank you, Elminster. Even with this sorry news, I’m, I’m glad that it was you who I received it from.”

Elminster thankfully has the grace to nod to him. “I see I have throughly worn out my welcome, so I will take my leave of you all now, with the hope that a day may come when we are able to break bread together as promised. However, before I go, take heed of these words.”

He stares off into the distance, like he used to when tracing out certain threads in the Weave to form the most beautiful patterns Gale had ever seen. “Like moons make swell and wane nescient seas, so too do the sky-strewn gods ordain the fates of mortal days. And yet—a notion born of lonely hours—come ebb, come flow, come all that is beyond the breadth of our dominion: be a moon unto yourself.”

Yuu squints at him. “…Yeah, no, I’m sorry, but I’m training to be a bard and I can’t even make any sense of that.”

Elminster chuckles. “Then perhaps I shall leave the twists and turns of phrasing to storysingers like yourself and Volothamp. Farewell, my friends. May we meet again under more favorable circumstances.”

And with that, his old friend vanishes into thin air.

The rest of the camp stays gathered around him for several moments, which does nothing to help his runny nose or inconveniently leaking eyes.

Gradually though, the rigid, battle-ready postures slump slightly, weight shifting from foot to foot and back again.

Karlach, bravest of them all, decides to take the plunge. “Yuu—”

“Don’t.” The teenager’s voice cracks like a whip as they pull themselves away from the group, shoulders still tense and trembling despite the absence of danger. “Not. Not right now. Just.”

“Come now darling, be reasonable.” Astarion coaxes, feigned impatience thinly veiling what Gale realizes might be genuine worry. “After all, this is hardly the first time any of us have kept secrets from you before, is it? Water under the bridge, surely.”

The glare they give in response to that particular pacification is enough to have even Gale flinching back slightly.

Then the tailless tiefling buries their face in their hands with a harsh exhale.

“Give. Give me five minutes.” They say, not looking at him. “Just. Just give me that and I’ll be. I’ll be better, I promise.”

Without waiting for an answer, they stride off between the trees, small form vanishing into the gloom.

“I feel I may be missing something.” Comes the deep voice of the druid from behind them.

“Hardly.” Pipes up a voice from around about hip height. “It’s rather simple altogether.”

Gale looks down to see that gnome Yuu is inordinately fond of frowning hard up at them all.

“After all, should you discover that your dear friend has been going behind your back and maintaining all sorts of deceptions and consorting with those who can only mean him ill, well. I should think that one has every right to feel a sense of, of betrayal when those sorts of things happen.”

“Can we kill him?” Astarion hisses, not quite quietly enough. “Please, can we? I’ll be ever so quick, I promise.”

“Yes, because that’s precisely the way to get back into their good books!” Shadowheart retorts. “Why not just murder Scratch or Munch too while we’re at it?”

“Nonsense. The dog is of great strategic value, and the cub has the potential to grow to be a strong ally.” Lae’zel dismisses. “The gnome is an acceptable loss.”

“Wh—I can hear you plotting my demise!” Barcus Wroot squawks.

“Nobody is murdering anybody.” Wyll decrees firmly, ignoring Astarion’s irritated click of the tongue. “But, it may be best if I to go after them. Make sure they don’t wander too far into the curse and get hurt.”

“You sure?” Karlach asks doubtfully. “They don’t exactly look like they want company. Might be better to let ‘em vent, yeah?”

“I’d rather ensure they’re alive to be cross at me than hollowed out by the shadow curse and left to rot.” Wyll insists.

“While that is a wise course of action.” Halsin rumbles, setting one hand on Wyll’s shoulder. “I am not so sure that it would be best for you to undertake it, my friend. This issue is one that must be treated at the root, rather than merely balming the symptoms.”

He pins Gale in place with an intent gaze. “What did you seek to obtain by feigning infection, Gale of Waterdeep?”

His mouth is dry as his tongue uselessly attempts to wet his lips.

“I wanted to help. I longed for the chance, amidst all my folly, to prove that surely I could do something good, for once?” The words croak out of him, shame a blazing bonfire in his gut as they escape. “I just—! I couldn’t bring myself to go back to my tower and lock myself away again. A stronger man, a wiser man would have. Alas, I am neither.”

He waits for the recrimination, for the disgust at his pathetic display. For the demand, finally, that he take his leave now that he is of use no longer.

Instead, he feels a large hand come to cup his arm and squeeze.

Halsin’s eyes are kind when Gale looks up at them. An oak inviting shelter in place of thorns warning intruders away. “I believe that, should you explain all of this to our young friend, you will find you have more of both qualities than you credit yourself for.”

It only takes half a minute or so of walking before Gale comes upon a raised, dilapidated shack that is miraculously within the light of the torches they set up at the perimeter.

The wood creaks under his boots as he climbs the steps, then passes through the empty doorframe.

His eyes pick out a faint glow of light through the worn boards of the walls, which he’s able to use to pick his way towards a doorway and peek through it.

What greets him is a ruined bedroom, the remnants of some family’s lives and furniture, and a small fire struggling valiantly in what’s left of a hearth. A strange, lumpy figure is silhouetted by the flames.

“Yuu? Is that—” He gets close enough for the figure to resolve itself into three. “—ah. May I inquire as to why you’ve embarked on a new career as a bedroll?”

Scratch gives a little whuff where he’s lying across Yuu’s chest, unable to move much from where the owlbear cub has its head pillowed on his back, the rest of it gently crushing Yuu’s legs.

“Helps.” Comes the small reply. “The, the weight. Keeps me here. Makes my thoughts stop corkscrewing my brain.”

“Huh.” Gale considers this. “So, if we gave you a particularly heavy rock—”

“Doesn’t work as well.” Yuu says. “Maybe if it were in a backpack? But being soft and fuzzy is part of it, I think. One of my friends from Night Raven, a druid. He’d wildshape and do this because he worked out it helped. Stop me going off the deep end during the Descent.”

“Hm.” Gale has never found the Descent of Elturel into the Hells a pleasant topic to contemplate by any means, but he’s only recently developed the visceral hostility he feels towards the event with every reminder that Yuu was one of its unfortunate survivors.

They must misinterpret his vocalization, as their eyes dart to him, blue irises glowing eerily against black sclera.

“Well,” They clear their throat as they begin to shift upright, nudging at Scratch and gently displacing Munch the owlbear with a displeased chirrup. “I suppose it’s been near enough to five minutes—”

“Actually, I was wondering if I might, might join you?” Gale’s words trip over themselves in his haste to get them out. “I feel as though I. No, I unequivocally owe you an explanation. An apology, at the very least.”

They pause in the act of sitting up with a weary sigh while one hand pinches divots into the bridge of their nose. “Gale, you don’t—! I’m not going to abandon you out here, or impose some ridiculous punishment, or whatever it is you think will happen if I’m not pacified—”

“That, This isn’t about making excuses for myself!” He insists, perhaps a trifle too heatedly for the tone he’s trying to set.

Watching the teenager tense, staring up at him warily with a protective hand on Scratch’s back, that leaves a foul taste on the back of his tongue.

With a few grunts as his knees protest their ill-treatment, he sinks down to a seated position next to them on the hard, uneven floor. He has no idea how they could stomach lying on it with two animals atop them.

“I didn’t come here to beg clemency in hopes of lessening any retribution.” He does his best to keep his voice soft and level, intent to soothe. “I came to apologize because I took advantage of a misunderstanding to mislead you, even as I imposed upon your trust and aid. You did not and do not deserve that, and I would like to make this wrong right by whatever means you deem fit.”

The tiefling stares at him in silence for several moments.

Munch the owlbear decides to live up to his name by taking small, cautious nips at the laces of his boots.

“You get a furrow in your brow,” They say abruptly. “And you tilt your head to the right slightly whenever I say or do something you disapprove of.”

Gale can only blink at the non-sequiter.

“Shadowheart tilts her head forward and exhales through her nose,” They continue, “But Lae’zel rolls her eyes and clicks her tongue. Astarion does this sneer with his left eyebrow arched, Wyll scrunches his nose like there’s a bad smell, and Karlach scoffs and crosses her arms right over left instead of left over right.”

“That…is oddly specific.” Gale declares, reduced to stating the obvious. He tries to covertly tug his laces away from Munch’s beak without getting bitten himself.

Yuu shrugs, fingers carding carefully through the fur of the dog in their lap. “I notice. I’ve always had to. We keep seeing so many others who don’t make it, who become gnoll food, prey for the Absolute, or orge food, or Hells, Nadira survived the Grove and then got tortured to death by Gith!”

Gale searches his memory, but is unable to match a face to the name. “Sorry, who was…?”

“The lady we saved from the bugbear, with the soul coin. The one Shadowheart didn’t like.” Yuu clips out. “Point is, she’s dead, and I have no worldly clue if the others from the Grove are as well, and the only reason I can parse as to how I’m somehow not is that all of you are with me. And given that I have unfortunately grown rather attached to the lot of you, if there is anything I can do to ensure that we stay together, that we survive whatever Moonrise Towers and the cult will throw at us, I’ll do it.”

Tremors wrack their frame as they speak, words pouring faster and faster as if escaping a dam.

“And I thought I had it under control. I thought I knew how to keep everyone happy so they wouldn’t get fed up with the kid who isn’t even a real bard and just fuck off. I actually thought, ‘hey, maybe this time I’ll be able to keep all my people safe!’ And then it turns out you weren’t hiding what I thought you were, and everyone else was in on it too, and to top it all off a fucking goddess has ordained your demise, as if I could have seen that coming.”

Their shoulders round as they slump in on themselves, curling around Scratch while the hound noses at them, letting out a soft whine.

“I’m scared.” Gale has to lean in to catch the whisper of the words. “I’m so, so scared. I barely know what to do, and even if we’re, we’re fine now, I can’t stop thinking about what would happen if we weren’t. About what could happen so we aren’t. And I’m so tired.”

Gale will be the first to confess he’s never truly had much experience with offering comfort. Tara, his mother, and Mystra all were far too indomitable to need soothing from him, for all that the former two seemed to exist in a permanent state of mild worry about his wellbeing and exploits. And though he has obtained some trifling experience on his travels of late, he still feels very much a dilettante rather than an expert. All the more so when an overeager owlbear cub has decided his subtle attempts to extricate himself must be precursor to a marvelous game of tug of war, and has been in the process of removing one of his boots from his person.

But it feels right to reach an arm around Yuu’s shoulders and tug them into leaning against his side, his other arm coming up to encircle them in a loose embrace.

There’s a tense moment.

“What are you doing?” Comes an honestly bewildered voice in the vicinity of his shoulder.

“Ah,” His fleeting confidence begins making its way to the door. “Hugging you?”

“Huh. Why?”

“Seemed the thing to do. Best way to express my sentiments, though I’ll admit I’m out of practice.”

Then he feels the weight of their head settle slightly more firmly on his shoulder, body shifting closer to him, horns poking his chin.

“S nice.” Their voice is small.

Gale rests his chin out the crown of their head, exhaling.

If their shoulders begin to hitch under his hands, and if he feels the fabric over his own begin to grow ever so slightly damp, well.

He won’t be the one to tell.

As touching as the moment is, however, it becomes rather difficult to maintain once Munch’s tugging at his boot starts to feel like it’ll take his ankle off along with it.

“Augh, ow, ow, stopit, OW!”

Yuu pulls back to look. “Ah—no, see, pulling’ll only encourage him, hunting instincts, can’t help them. C’mere Munch! Come on!”

At the sight of the teenager’s outstretched and wiggling fingers, the owlbear finally releases Gale with an excited hoot, near bowling him over in its eagerness to shove its head into Yuu’s hand.

They snort out a laugh as they pet between the tufted ear feathers. “There we are, there’s my fine fellow, this is what you were after all along, wasn’t it? Yes, yes, you’d like more, wouldn’t you? Your wish is my command, mi’lord Munch.”

Gale can only sit back and huff out a chuckle as Scratch, who had admittedly been quite patient during up until this point, began whuffing and pushing himself into Yuu’s space for petting himself, forcing them to split their attention and hands between both animals.

He reaches out and tries to mimic their scratching motions on the owlbear’s forehead.

Munch lets out a pleased coo, butting his head insistently into Gale’s hand instead.

Yuu hums, a soft smile playing over their face. “He’s saying that he won’t bite you anymore, no matter how delicious you smell. You’re a friend now.”

“Well, if it saves my poor boots, I’m glad to be.” He jokes, his tone softening to sincerity as their laughter fades away. “I’d enjoy getting to be a better friend to you, as well. You needn’t shoulder all this on your own, Yuu. We aren’t about to, to vanish the moment something goes wrong. I mean, look at Lae’zel! You asked her to turn on Vlaa’kith—!”

“That was different!” They try to argue. “She would’ve died in that machine, and if we’d given up the artefact—!”

“But she trusted in you, trusted in all of us enough to turn her back on everything she’d known and believed without question, because of the flaws we helped bring to light.” He takes a hand away to tap their chest, returning it to the owlbear at the disgruntled grumble. “Karlach’s only hale and hearty because you convinced Wyll and us that there had to be more than meets the eye to the situation, and lo and behold! Halsin, Barcus, the tieflings in the grove, the druids, the gnomes, the myconids, that rather unpleasant pregnant woman, all of them owe us their lives because you convinced us to intervene, and you could not have done so were you not someone worthy of the faith we placed in you. Someone we would need to be most foolish indeed to abandon, and I, for one, pride myself too much on my intelligence to ever submit to being a such a thing and would strongly discourage it in anyone else.”

There’s a moment of quiet as Gale lets them digest his impassioned tirade.

“You know what would really convince me of the truth of all this?” The gaze they meet his with is all steely conviction, forged in the fires of their journey thus far. “If you would swear to me that you wouldn’t blow yourself up to destroy the Absolute, or for any other reason.”

He can’t keep eye contact, dropping his face to scrub one hand over it and through his beard. “I—! It’s hardly that simple, Yuu, you cannot tell me that should it grant us the opportunity to rid the world of the Absolute for good—!”

“—It wouldn’t be worth it.” They retort, head held high. “A world without you in it, Gale of Waterdeep, is hardly one that merits saving. It comes far too high at the cost. And if you’d like me to, I will march back to camp right now and ask all the others to tell you exactly the same, since you’re so keen on doubting my word.”

The lump is back in his throat, and he nearly forgets the point he wants to argue. That he must argue.

“It’s not that I’m doubting any word of yours, but, but why? I’m hardly anyone—maybe I was worthy once, while Mystra favored me, but that does no credit to my name now, especially not with the long list of fraud to add to my person! I’m not even infected, for pity’s sake! Like as not I wouldn’t even be here if I had simply told you the truth from the outset!”

“Gale. You’re a talented wizard with whose knowledge of illithids is only outclassed by Lae’zel.” Yuu says, tone flat. “Who is a devotee of a people whose entire culture is dedicated to destroying them. If I’d known you were uninfected when we first met, I’d have given you all the gold in my pockets to keep you with us, and then some. Even more so once I worked out what a kind and loyal man you are.”

“Oh.” Gale replies. “Hm.”

“The offer doesn’t stand now though.” They take no small amount of glee in informing him. “You’re trapped by the cute owlbear and all of our friends loving you. Such a shame. Should have taken it when you had the chance.”

He rolls his eyes for the second time that night, elbowing the giggling teenager. “Be serious, you.”

As their mirth subsides, the two of them stare into the struggling fire, the animals accompanying them slipping off into dozes with the weak crackles from the hearth.

“I cannot swear to never activate the orb.” Gale starts hesitantly. “That would be far too reckless and irresponsible of me, regardless of what anyone says given the threat we face. But. But I will swear only to consider it as a final resort. Only if all other options have been exhausted, and there seems to be no light out of the darkness we find ourselves in.”

“And that’s the best I’m going to get?” Yuu asks. At his nod, they exhale heavily, jaw set. “Fine. But only after all other options have been tried and failed. And I do mean all of them, no matter how…unpleasant. Do you so swear?”

He holds up his hand, solemn. “On the Weave itself, I swear. May it recognize and enforce my vow.”

There’s a slight tingling in his vocal cords, his fingers, around the newly muffled orb in his chest. Magic taking his words and binding them tight as any promise ring.

Yuu smiles shakily at him.

“Well. We’d best be getting back to camp then. Need all our heads together if we’re going to think our way out of this.”

“Right,” Taking the hand they proffer to pull him up as he steadies himself on aching knees, Gale smiles back. He feels lighter when he follows them out of the cabin than he has since he woke aboard the Nautiloid.

“Excellent. Lead on.”

[alynnl]

It's taken me longer than I've planned to write the extended, unabridged version of my notes for my TGAA fan case, "Adventure of The Great Vanishing Act."

That being said, I'd like to share one of my favorite parts of it because it was so fun thinking all this up. Just this scene alone is quite long but I didn't want to leave any of it out! I hope you all enjoy!

To set the scene: Sholmes and Iris are investigating together to find Professor Harebrayne after he goes missing. With some deductions, they manage to get on the right track.

**** They begin in the last place Albert was seen - in his home, a first floor room of a three story building.  At a glance, Sholmes can tell that there were no signs of forced entry.  The door is still locked, windows are intact, as is the rest of the furniture and scientific equipment inside of the room.  

Iris points out the most notable difference - that there is no coat or scarf on the coat hanger.  It’s a clear sign that Albert must have gone out, and never made it back home. 

Sholmes takes note of the businesses nearby.  There are two places that Albert may have stopped by: a pawnbroker and a pub.  Sholmes reasons that these are places that anyone down on their luck would visit (not that he would know from personal experience!)

After Sholmes and Iris ask a few questions to the pawnbroker and tavern owner, they make their way to one of the back streets between the pub and Harebrayne’s home.  They each go forward with extreme caution into a dark alley.  The street appears quiet with very few people walking the sidewalks, and many buildings look to be in varying states of disrepair.

Iris teases Sholmes to lighten the mood, asking if he’s still afraid of the dark.

“A little fear is healthy in a place like this, my dear Iris.  But if we face our adversary, I shall be braver than ever!”

Underneath the streets that Sholmes and Iris are walking, Albert Harebrayne is alone in a dark cellar. It has very small windows near the ceiling, much too tiny to crawl through, and too high to reach.  The only entrance and exit is a heavily locked door on the top of some very steep stairs.  

After waking up and coming to his senses, Albert has spent his time trying to figure out how to escape.  Unfortunately, he came to the conclusion that he can’t get out on his own.  

(“But I can’t give up!  I owe it to Barok and Mr. Naruhodo after everything they’ve done for me!  I’ve got to find a way out of this, for their sake… and mine!”)

Albert frantically scribbles on the walls with chalk, a mix between words and equations.  It all adds up to a simple fact: if he can’t leave on his own, he’ll need someone outside to free him.  But he’s had virtually no contact with the outside world, so no one is even aware that he’s confined, much less where he is.

That’s when it dawns on him.  He needs to light a signal to let someone, anyone know where he is, and hope they’ll come to his rescue.  And to Professor Harebrayne, there’s no better signal than an explosion.  

Albert notices a rack of wine bottles behind him.  He takes a few odds and ends from his lab coat and mixes them in with the wine bottle.  He knows he will have to throw it in just the right spot.

“Right.  Here goes nothing!”

Albert tosses the bottle and it lands right where it needs to - into one of the tiny ceiling windows.

Just above, on the street level, a small fireball erupts.  A few pedestrians see it, including Iris and Sholmes.  Chaos ensues from the small fire, but Sholmes keeps a cool head.  He and Iris enter the front entrance of a rundown building.  They’re aware they only have a few minutes to act, and search frantically for any hidden rooms or passages.

Iris points out skid marks on the wooden floor, and Sholmes follows where they go.  They enter a room with a tall wardrobe, and a noticeable draft.  With great effort, both Sholmes and Iris push the wardrobe aside to reveal a door.  It’s locked by three different locks, prompting Sholmes to use his lock picks.

Once the locks fall away, Sholmes and Iris head down a steep staircase.  

Halfway down the steps, they meet Albert, who was hastily going up once he saw the heavy door finally open.

“Mr. Sholmes!  And Miss Iris too!  What are you two doing here?”

Sholmes gets to the point. “To make a long story extremely short, we’ve come here to save you.” 

Iris chimes in. “That’s right!  With our powers of deduction, we were able to find you, Professor Bunnybrain!  I hope you’re doing okay.” 

“I’m… fine.  Actually, I’m better than fine!  Thanks to your strokes of genius, I’m finally free!  I can’t wait to be home again…”

Sholmes puts on a more serious expression.  “Ah.  It’s good to know you’re not injured, Professor, but I’m afraid you won’t be going home just yet.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Sholmes takes Albert by the hand and begins to lead him up the stairs with Iris trailing closely behind.

“We must hurry to The Old Bailey.  I will hail the first cab I see.”

“The Old Bailey?  You mean the courthouse?  But that’s the last place I want to be!”

Iris shrugs.  “I get why you’d feel that way after your trial last week, but I would still listen to Hurley if I were you.”

“Quite so.  We are under rather trying circumstances at the moment.  If you don’t show that handsome face of yours in the courtroom, a certain friend of yours may completely give in to despair.”

"A certain friend of mine...are you talking about Barok?  Is he in some sort of trouble then?"

Sholmes stops after they walk briskly down the streets of London, a little ways from the pawnbroker’s.

"Oh dear.  You really have no idea what's happening, do you?"

“Of course I don’t know!” Albert exclaims frantically. “If my calculations are accurate, I’ve spent about thirty six hours in that cellar with no word from the outside world whatsoever!”

Sholmes flags down a passing horse drawn cab, and it stops.

“I will have to explain everything on the way there, Professor.  Your friend Van Zieks is in the middle of a trial, and we must arrive before it ends.”

Iris does her best to sound encouraging. “Hurley and I will be right there with you, so there’s no reason to be scared.  You can count on us!”

Albert seems a little nervous as he speaks his thoughts. “I can’t even begin to form a hypothesis about what’s really going on.  But it’s clear that Barok needs my help somehow!  I’ll go with you, Mr. Sholmes.  It’s the least I could do.”

Sholmes sees to it that all of them are seated in the hansom.    

“Let us make haste then!  We haven’t got a moment to lose!”

Sholmes presses a pile of coins into the cab driver’s hands.  He mentions that there will be a bonus if they reach The Old Bailey before the trial concludes. The small open carriage practically flies down the streets of London towards its destination…

[mostlysignssomeportents]

This day in history

On July 14, I'm giving the closing keynote for the fifteenth HACKERS ON PLANET EARTH, in QUEENS, NY. Happy Bastille Day! On July 20, I'm appearing in CHICAGO at Exile in Bookville.

#20yrsago ESC-key creator dies https://www.nytimes.com/2004/06/25/us/robert-w-bemer-84-pioneer-in-computer-programming.html

#20yrsago Orrin Hatch criminalizes the iPod https://web.archive.org/web/20040627001053/https://www.eff.org/IP/Apple_Complaint.php

#20yrsago Schneier: More police power = less security https://www.schneier.com/essays/archives/2004/06/unchecked_police_and.html

#20yrsago Ernest Miller savages Orrin Hatch’s grotesque new law https://corante.com/importance/the-obsessively-annotated-introduction-to-the-induce-act/

#20yrsago MP candidates on the “Canadian DMCA” https://web.archive.org/web/20040812131225/https://ddll.sdf1.net/archives/002667.html

#15yrsago How the Canadian copyright lobby uses fakes, fronts, and circular references to subvert the debate on copyright https://www.michaelgeist.ca/2009/06/copyright-policy-laundering/

#15yrsago Julian Comstock: Robert Charles Wilson’s masterful novel of a post-collapse feudal America: “If Jules Verne had read Karl Marx, then sat down to write The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire“ https://memex.craphound.com/2009/06/24/julian-comstock-robert-charles-wilsons-masterful-novel-of-a-post-collapse-feudal-america-if-jules-verne-had-read-karl-marx-then-sat-down-to-write-the-decline-and-fall-of-the-roman-empire/

#15yrsago Health insurance versus health https://web.archive.org/web/20090709060418/http://voices.washingtonpost.com/ezra-klein/2009/06/the_truth_about_the_insurance.html

#15yrsago Guards are the worst prison-rapists https://web.archive.org/web/20090624183205/http://nprec.us/publication/report/executive_summary.php

#15yrsago Great Firewall of Australia to block video games unsuitable for people under 15 https://www.smh.com.au/technology/web-filters-to-censor-video-games-20090625-cxrx.html

#10yrsago Thomas Piketty’s Capital in the 21st Century https://memex.craphound.com/2014/06/24/thomas-pikettys-capital-in-the-21st-century/

#10yrsago How accounting forced transparency on the aristocracy and changed the world https://www.bostonglobe.com/ideas/2014/06/07/the-vanished-grandeur-accounting/3zcbRBoPDNIryWyNYNMvbO/story.html

#5yrsago America’s super-rich write to Democratic presidential hopefuls, demanding a wealth tax https://medium.com/@letterforawealthtax/an-open-letter-to-the-2020-presidential-candidates-its-time-to-tax-us-more-6eb3a548b2fe

#5yrsago You can’t recycle your way out of climate change https://www.vox.com/the-highlight/2019/5/28/18629833/climate-change-2019-green-new-deal

#5yrsago US election security: still a dumpster fire https://www.wired.com/story/election-security-2020/

#5yrsago “I Shouldn’t Have to Publish This in The New York Times”: my op-ed from the future https://www.nytimes.com/2019/06/24/opinion/future-free-speech-social-media-platforms.html

#5yrsago Bernie Sanders will use a tax on Wall Street speculators to wipe out $1.6 trillion in US student debt https://berniesanders.com/issues/free-college-cancel-debt/

#5yrsago Mandatory childbirth: how the anti-abortion crusade masks cruelty to women in the “sacralizing of fetuses” https://www.nytimes.com/2019/06/23/opinion/anti-abortion-history.html

#5yrsago The internet has become a “low-trust society” https://www.wired.com/story/internet-made-dupes-cynics-of-us-all/

#5yrsago “PM for a day”: dissident Tories plan to bring down the government the day after Boris Johnson becomes Prime Minister https://www.bbc.com/news/uk-politics-48742881

#5yrsago Report: UK “Ransomware consultants” Red Mosquito promise to unlock your data, but they’re just paying off the criminals (and charging you a markup!) https://www.propublica.org/article/sting-catches-another-ransomware-firm-red-mosquito-negotiating-with-hackers

#5yrsago Lessons from Microsoft’s antitrust adventure for today’s Big Tech giants https://web.archive.org/web/20190622131345/https://www.sfgate.com/business/article/Microsoft-s-missteps-offer-antitrust-lessons-for-14030092.php

Support me this summer on the Clarion Write-A-Thon and help raise money for the Clarion Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers' Workshop!

[foundtherightwords]

The Firebird - Chapter 14

Pairing: Prince Paul (Catherine the Great) x OFC, Fairytale AU

Summary: When Paul, a spoiled young prince, spots a strange bird in the forest near his palace, he impulsively chases after it, hoping to both escape from and prove himself to his disapproving mother. Thus he is plunged into an exhilarating adventure across a magical realm populated by enchanted princesses, dangerous monsters, and powerful wizards, an adventure that may change him more than he can ever imagine.

Chapter warning: violence, fire, gore

Chapter word count: 3.8k

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 - Chapter 12 - Chapter 13

Chapter 14 - Deathless

After everything he'd heard of Zhara's brother, after witnessing every act of cruelty Illarion was capable of, Paul was expecting a villain, someone who exuded power and wickedness. What he saw instead was a boy, looking no older than sixteen, of the same tall, slender build as Zhara, with the same red hair, though it was a shade darker, almost auburn, and the same freckles. There was even something of Zhara's impishness in the turn of his mouth as well. Only the eyes were different. When Paul looked into those eyes, his heart sank, and all his doubt about the boy's true nature vanished. They were the same glittering green as the medallions, hard and cold. Zhara's eyes were always human even when she was transformed into a bird. This boy's eyes didn't even seem alive; the only hint of life in them was a glare of hate.

But Paul didn't spend too long contemplating those lifeless eyes. His attention was riveted on a large mesh cage at the window. Zhara was fluttering in it, while the setting sun cast its light on her plumage, turning her into a fireball, just like the first time Paul had seen her in the forest of Tsarskoye Selo.

Underneath the cage, laid out on the table, were an array of strange items and instruments—a gold chest, a hare, a duck, and an egg. The animals each had an angry red slash on its chest. It seemed Illarion had everything he needed for the Deathless ritual, except for the most important one—the needle containing his death. This the boy was twirling between his thin fingers while he leaned casually against the throne, watching Paul with a curious, almost fascinated expression. Under the disconcerting gaze of those flat green eyes, Paul became too aware that he was no knight in shining armor, with his torn and bloody shirt and mismatched weapons. He could only hope that appearances may be misleading.

"For a mere mortal from Rus', he did quite well, did he not, Zharissa?" Illarion said conversationally. "Much better than those bumbling bogatyrs of yours. I wonder what other surprise he may have in store."

To Paul's shock, Zhara spoke. "Paul," she said. "You shouldn't be here. Go! Save yourself!" He stared at the bird. It was Zhara's voice, desperate and full of tears, coming out of her beak. What trick was this?

"Oh, now she talks," Illarion said, sounding annoyed. "I gave you the power of speech so we could have a chat and make the waiting a little less tedious, and you refused to talk to me, but the moment he showed up, you started chattering away?"

"If you don't want to wait until I'm human again to perform the ritual," Zhara said, "why not undo the curse and just kill me now?"

"I would if I could!" Illarion shouted. "Do you think I want to wait? But they are very imprecise, curses. I never meant to curse you, you know. This avian form greatly diminishes your power. If you would only agree to wear that medallion—"

Why, he doesn't know how to undo the curse, Paul realized. He's nothing but a boy, in over his head. He wondered if Zhara had realized this as well and was stalling for time.

"You didn't have to control me," Zhara said to Illarion, spreading her wings in an imploring gesture. "I would've gladly let you rule—"

"What, so you could go behind my back and gather the support of the boyars?" Illarion hissed, baring his teeth in anger. "So you could play the victim and undermine my rule? I know you too well, sister."

They sounded like siblings bickering over a game rather than discussing matters of life and death. Paul took a tentative step forward, reaching for the skull in his knapsack, the only weapon that might stand a chance against Illarion's magic. "Let her go," he said. At least his voice was steady.

"Or what?" Illarion snickered. "Are you going to throw that skull at me?"

In reply, Paul raised the skull. Fire shot out of its eye socket. He meant to aim it at Illarion, but the flame hit a corner of the velvet curtain instead, setting it ablaze. Illarion shrugged, looking almost bored. "I never like those curtains anyway," he said. "You're going to have to do better than that."

"How's this for better?" Paul aimed the skull at Illarion's robe. There was a flash, and the robe caught fire. Illarion didn't even flinch. He beat out the fire with his bare hand, as casually as blowing out a candle. Refusing to be intimidated, Paul advanced upon the boy, the skull held in front of him like a musket. He shot another bolt of fire; Illarion dodged it, and the flame hit the corner of the throne in a shower of sparks.

"Enough of this," Illarion growled. He pinned the needle to the shoulder of his robe before slipping something out of his belt and throwing it at Paul.

Belatedly, Paul saw that it was a medallion.

He threw up his arms, but the medallion hit his chest, burned through his shirt like a cattle brand, and adhered itself to his skin.

The pain was unbearable. He'd thought being pinned under an iron-and-copper dragon was bad, but it was nothing compared to this, this red-hot agony, this hellfire that seared his very bone, that reached all the way to his heart, that spread through his blood. Was this how it had been for Afron when he foolishly cast in his lot with Illarion? Was this how it had been for poor Alyosha Popovich?

Paul collapsed, clutching at his chest. The last thing he heard was Zhara's panicked voice, calling out his name, as the white-and-gold room around him faded to black.

***

When the darkness cleared from his eyes, Paul found himself on a bed, a large bed, with the silk cover of a pillow under his cheek. There were blue velvet drapes with gold fringes around the bed. The room around him was blue and gold as well, and strangely familiar. It took him a moment to realize this was his bed. His room, the one at the Winter Palace in Saint Petersburg. An untrimmed candle still flickered on the bedside table, but the morning sun was pouring in through the curtains being swept back by a servant. The door opened, and his mother walked in.

"What, still abed at this hour?" she said, though she didn't sound quite as harsh as usual. "And on such a big day?"

Paul sat up, blinking stupidly. His hand flew up to his chest. The pain was gone. Had there been a pain there at all, or had he dreamed it?

"A big day?" he repeated.

"Your coronation, of course!" his mother said, laughing and clapping her hands together.

Paul stared at her, too stunned to speak. His mother seemed almost giddy, quite unlike herself. "Are you—are you abdicating?" finally he asked.

"That was always the plan, wasn't it?" She briskly walked over to an array of frock coats and robes being laid out by the servants, pointing to several. "That one, that one... no, that one. Yes." Turning back to Paul, she said, "It was agreed that I would only rule until you reached your majority. Now that you have, it is time for me to step down."

Something was not right, but Paul couldn't quite put his finger on it. He felt dazed, half-asleep, as though he'd just come out of a nightmare and was not quite awake. Yet he vaguely remembered that it was true, the council had finally convinced his mother to pass the throne to him. He let himself be dragged out of bed, washed and dressed in full ceremonial regalia, and before he knew it, he was standing in the cathedral in front of a crowd, while priests chanted over him and the crown, the crown he'd seen on his mother's head hundreds of times and coveted each time he saw it, glittered on a velvet cushion before him.

Could it be? Could it be that he had finally achieved what he desired the most?

He looked at the crowd, at their adoring faces all turned toward him. Yes, this was what he wanted, to be seen and respected and appreciated. But he couldn't shake the feeling that there was something else he wanted, something missing. He noticed a young lady standing by his mother, doll-like with her porcelain face and tiny rosebud mouth, eyes cast down demurely. Paul didn't remember having seen her before.

"Panin," he said to his old governor, who was standing by his side, "who is that young woman?"

"Why, that is your betrothed, Your Excellency."

Startled, Paul wracked his brain. Again, he had some vague recollection of having chosen one of the princesses from all the miniatures given to him, but try as he might, he couldn't remember her name. Why couldn't he remember her name? It would be terribly embarrassing to ask Panin her name, wouldn't it?

The young lady lifted her eyes to look at him, and Paul suddenly found himself expecting her eyes to be a warm, golden color, honey held up to sunlight. How strange. Her eyes were blue, perfectly pretty, but for some reason, he kept thinking of those amber eyes. Where had he seen such eyes?

And then, to his shock, the young lady's face began to change. Her eyes turned golden just as he'd imagined; her powdered wigs became a long, red braid, and freckles splattered across her skin. If he looked closely, he could see seven freckles curve around the corner of her mouth... he remembered kissing them... he remembered running his hand over that hair, having those eyes look into his in the moonlight...

"Your Excellency," Panin said in his ears, but it wasn't Panin's voice, it was a strange voice, oily and cold, a voice he'd heard once before in a dark forest. "This is what you want, isn't it?" the voice continued. "You can have all that, and more. As long as you obey me."

Paul turned to his old governor in horror. Panin was looking at him with eyes the color of malachite.

"If you want her," Panin said, still in that spine-chilling voice, "well, I cannot give you the real thing, you understand, but I can give you something very similar." And he nodded at the young lady who looked like someone Paul both did and didn't know.

There was a weight on his chest. He couldn't breathe.

The young lady opened her mouth. She was standing not five feet from him, yet her voice seemed to be coming to him from far, far away. "Fight it, Paul!" she was screaming. He knew that voice. He knew her.

The crowd around him faded, leaving only her eyes and her voice. Holding on to them as an anchor, he clasped a hand to the base of his throat. His fingers closed around a hard disc, something like a pendant or a medallion that was stuck to his skin. It burned. He pulled it out, screaming as it took some of his skin and flesh along with it, and flung it as far away as he could.

The cathedral vanished. Paul found himself on the floor of the throne room, the marble cool under his cheek. The burning sensation on his chest had gone, but the pain lingered, weakening his limbs. Lifting his head with difficulty, he saw that Illarion stood over him, nostrils flared in fury, while the cage stood empty, with a gaping hole in its side—fragments of the medallion scattered nearby told Paul that he must have hit the cage with the medallion by accident and broken it open. Where was Zhara?

The thought of Zhara finally cleared the cloud in his head. She had saved him. She had pulled him out of that—that vision or hallucination or whatever it was that Illarion had used to tempt him, and brought him back to reality.

This, this was real. Not his mother's palace, not his coronation, not his nameless betrothed. This was real. Zhara was real. And he must save her.

And there she was, a spot of red circling close to the ceiling, out of Illarion's reach. Illarion was flinging his hand at her with his fingers outstretched, launching all sorts of things at her—lightning bolts, stones, even sharp icicles—anything he could conjure out of thin air, it seemed. Strike after magical strike hit the ceiling and the walls, and bits of marble rained down. Zhara flew on agile wings, narrowly avoiding the missiles and the debris that flew off the ceiling and the walls. But she could not hold out for long, not when the sun was getting lower and lower by the minute. Why wasn't she fighting back? Her power may be weaker, but she could still throw a few fireballs, surely? Or did she hesitate because she still thought of this crazed boy as her little brother? Well, if she refused to fight him, then Paul would.

As Illarion twisted and turned like he was battling a particularly pesky fly, Paul struggled to his feet and pulled out his broken sword, holding it ready. At one point, Illarion turned fully toward Paul, arms wide open as he tried to hit Zhara with a whirlwind. This was Paul's chance. He ran at the boy at full tilt and stabbed the sword through Illarion's chest.

Staggering back, Illarion stared at the sword's handle sticking out of his chest in astonishment.

Then he started to laugh.

"You fool!" he said, still laughing. He pulled the sword out and threw it to the floor. There wasn't even any blood on it. If it wasn't for the torn patch on his robe, nobody would know he'd been stabbed.

He truly was Deathless.

With a flick of his hand, Illarion threw an invisible force at Paul, sending him sprawling.

Paul's eyes caught a glint on Illarion's robe. It was the needle, reflecting the red rays of the sun.

The needle! Of course! To defeat Koschei, one had to destroy the needle. Paul picked himself up on trembling limbs and aimed the skull at it. If he could at least damage it somehow, that would distract Illarion long enough to give them a chance...

Illarion spun around. Another unseen hand slammed into Paul. This time the force knocked the air out of his lungs and hurled him across the room. The back of his head hit the wall. Stars burst in front of his eyes. Golden ropes sprung out of the floor like tree roots, binding his wrists and ankles. He strained against them, but they only tightened, threatening to slice off his hands and foot. The skull clattered away, rolling to the foot of the throne. Illarion's boot came down, smashing it into bits.

Paul was still staring at the smashed skull, his last hope, when Illarion came to stand in front of him.

"Stupid mortal!" he spat at Paul. "How dare you defy me! Now you shall pay!"

He pointed his hand at Paul and curled his fingers into a fist. Paul gasped. It felt as though there was a claw inside him, squeezing his heart, cutting off the flow of blood in his veins. Incredible, indescribable pain radiated from his heart to his ribs, his neck, his arms and shoulders, and the rest of his body, choking him, paralyzing him. He could feel his life force draining away, but he was helpless to stop it.

From the ceiling, Zhara came barreling down like a golden arrow. She dashed past Illarion, who made a grab for her but missed her by just a hair's breadth. The pressure around Paul's heart loosened, and he collapsed to the floor, coughing. Zhara shot back to the ceiling, and Illarion clasped a hand to his shoulder, the first hint of fear creeping to his face—the needle was gone.

"Please, Lariosha, stop this," Zhara said, the needle tightly grasped between her talons.

"Do not call me that!"

"The magic is killing you! If you go through with the ritual, you'll be dead! Baba Yaga told me—the same thing happened to Koschei—"

So Baba Yaga had told Zhara the truth after all. Was that why she wasn't fighting Illarion? Was she still trying to save him?

"See, that's where you're wrong, sister," Illarion said, though he indeed did not look well. The boy's face was pale, as pale as the marble walls around them, his hands shook, and he was breathing hard, spittle spraying from his lips. Only his green eyes burned feverishly. "Koschei was an old fool. He put his death into an ordinary needle. But I am cleverer than that. This needle will be indestructible once I temper it in your fire. Don't try anything stupid. Whatever you do to it will only make it stronger."

"I'm sorry," Zhara said. "I can't let you go through with this." Turning to Paul, she said, "Hold on to Baba Yaga's handkerchief. It will protect you."

"Protect me—from what?" Paul gasped. He still hadn't quite regained his breath after Illarion's attack.

"From me."

With that, she pointed the needle at herself and plunged it into her chest.

"No!" Paul and Illarion both screamed.

Blood spurted from Zhara's breast, dying her red feathers a darker shade. Blood dripped to the floor below her, and wherever the blood fell, fire sprang up and spread around the room as though the floor was made of the oldest, driest wood and not cold, hard marble. Flames surrounded Zhara, turning her whole body into a fireball, burning the needle white-hot. Flames swallowed up the table with its instruments of magic. Flames licked around Paul, but he strained his bound hand to find Baba Yaga's handkerchief in his knapsack, and the fire never touched him, though he felt its heat on his skin.

"You think you can stop me by killing yourself?!" Illarion hissed. "No, no, dear sister, you will live—at least long enough to serve me!"

He raised his hand. Zhara was pulled toward him on an invisible string, her wings flailing uselessly against his force.

"I have taken Koschei's powers," Illarion said, "and now I'm going to take yours!"

Just as he had done to Paul, Illarion curled his fingers into a fist. Paul knew now that the gesture meant Illarion was draining his victim's life force. And there was Zhara's life force—flames rolled along the string of air between them, flowing from sister into brother, until they were connected by a rope of fire. Paul could only watch, powerless, while Zhara's eyes rolled to the back of her head, and she made a strangled sound. Her plumage started losing its color and luster. The paler she got, the stronger Illarion seemed to be—his face was no longer deathly white, his hair became redder than the fire itself, and his eyes burned more brightly.

The fire was almost gone from around Zhara's body now, her feathers a dim, dark shade of purplish brown, like old blood. She was limp, only held up in midair by the force of Illarion's magic. The needle was lifted from her chest by that same force and flew into Illarion's hand. He caught it, laughing, paying no heed to the incandescent metal.

"Yes, yes!" he shouted. "Why didn't I think to do this sooner? This is so much better! Now I can temper the needle with my own fire! I shall be truly invinci—"

He didn't finish the sentence. The smug smile vanished from his face. The fire continued to blaze around his body as it blazed around the room, sucking out all the air, turning the whole place into an inferno. Despite the protection of Baba Yaga's handkerchief, Paul could still feel the heat blasting him in the face and scorching his lungs.

"No, this is enough—" Illarion was saying. "The tempering is done—I want it to stop—Zhara! How do I get the fire to stop? Help! Help me, please! "

Zhara, who was suspended lifeless in the air with her head lolling back and her wings drooping, gave no answer.

"It burns—oh gods, it burns!" Illarion moaned. He tried to throw the needle away, but it had melted into a puddle of liquid metal in his palm. Still the fire raged on. "You witch!" Illarion screamed at Zhara, his face twisted with rage. "You've tricked me! But you won't get away with it! If I die, you shall die too!"

He clenched his fist again, and some of the fire flowed back to Zhara, searing her feathers. She remained unconscious. Soon, the fire would consume both brother and sister...

Paul took his hand out of the knapsack and dropped the handkerchief to the floor. The moment it left his fingers, flames roared up around him. He angled his body toward it, letting the fire burn the ropes around his wrists and ankles to ashes, biting back a scream as it scorched his skin. As soon as he was free of the ropes, he got to his feet.

Illarion saw the handkerchief, and his eyes went wide. They both dove for it. Paul—perhaps by sheer luck—was a fraction of a second quicker. He scooped the handkerchief up, jumped at Zhara, and snatched her out of the air, wrapping her in the square of fabric.

"No!!!" Illarion, now nothing more than a pillar of fire with a vaguely human shape in its middle, charged at Paul. Paul leaped aside, and Illarion crashed through the window, plummeting down the sheer cliff, burning like a falling star.

A long while later, a blast from the sea below told Paul that the boy had met his end.

The flames rose all the way to the ceiling in one last furious eruption, and then, with a rushing sound of air being sucked inward, they vanished, leaving behind only a few scorched patches and an acrid smell.

Paul looked down, not quite believing what he was seeing. Zhara was lying there, in his arms—Zhara, as he'd seen her that first night in the woods of Lukomorye, freckles standing out on her skin, her hair covering her body like a cape, her eyes closed, the wound on her chest still bleeding. Outside the broken window, the sun was taking its plunge into the sea, turning the water into molten gold for a moment before winking out, and darkness descended on everything.

Chapter 15

Taglist: @ali-r3n

[curscival]

There's something Wrong about the Warrior of Light

[Written for FFXIV Write, with the prompt surrogate. 512 words]

Brief Introduction to another WoL I have; Lucian, who replaces the original WoL after their unfortunate death.

There's something wrong about the Warrior of Light. 

I admit I only chanced to meet him once before but I can't soon forget his laugh and the way his voice lit up the room. It was as if he had the whole bar in a trance with the way he retold his stories of adventure. He was everything I expected a hero to be.

But, that was not the man I saw today. 

No, instead I glanced to see someone completely different. Gone was his ginger hair and emerald eyes, both replaced by a stark colorless white. His expressive face and wide grin all but vanished on a slate of emptiness. 

I'm sure you've heard the rumors of the hero's death in Ishgard and how he was cut down in the midst of the Dragonsong War. After what I've seen here today I have no choice but to believe these whispers for the man I saw was the empty husk of the hero we knew. 

Something is terribly wrong with the Warrior of Light.

I know I mustn't share frivolous rumors but I feel I must tell someone what I saw. He acted as if he was a stranger in his own body, a corpse piloted by some unknown entity; utterly unfamiliar with himself and the world around him. Even amongst what I had assumed to be his friends he seemed separated, like a stranger unsure where to be. 

His companions seemed weary too, conversations stiff and blunt with expressions unreadable. It was at this time I noticed another strange phenomenon; when my eyes wandered to someone else I utterly lost track of the Warrior of Light. It was as if he blended entirely with his surroundings, registering in my mind as naught but a backdrop against the winter storm. 

When I realized I had lost him I'd quickly return my gaze to his form only to see he'd never moved at all. I even began to wonder if he was a statue, lifeless and devoid of color.

Until his eyes met mine. 

It felt as if I was staring into the maw of a great wyrm with no weapon in hand. It's eyes pierced into my very being, studying every minuscule detail. I couldn't help the chill that ran up my spine and the overwhelming need to look away. 

But just as quickly as it spotted me it's gaze returned to its companions leaving me frozen as if I'd just looked death in the face.

Perhaps I did. Those eyes it wore shone brightly against the dim candlelight. Perhaps this thing wasn't as empty as I thought, rather it resided in those terrible, terrible eyes. 

I know not what to do with this information but I fear the consequences if I stay quiet. Something happened to the Warrior of Light and left us with this false mockery of his image. I can only hope those more informed than I can subdue my fears though if I'm proven correct I fear none of us will be safe. 

May Halone save us all. 

[carsonian]

Cap-IM Rec Week: Hidden Gems Saturday

@cap-ironman, cutting it close this Saturday:

"Stark Disassembled" series by Crait

"Zero Sum": Did you do your best, Anthony? And did your best only make things worse? "The Bleeding Edge": If people reach perfection they vanish, you know. "Satin in a Coffin": Careful. It's so heavy only I can lift it.

Y'ever read something that terraforms (yes, that's the right word) your brain? If you haven't, read this. If you have, read this. This is so criminally underrated it makes me mad if I think too much about it. Tee El Dee Arr: read this.

"Meso Park" by Captain_Panda

As the head theropod keeper for A.I.M.'s extraordinary new project, Steve Rogers wants a smooth summer opening. Then the unthinkable happens, on the same day the investor of a lifetime arrives, ready to throw his support behind the world's most ambitious theme park. Can Meso Park survive the upheaval? Can Steve? Tune in to this dinosaur-themed adventure inspired by Michael Crichton's classic, Jurassic Park.

Speaking of criminally underrated. . . I consider being a Meso Park stan a core part of my SteveTony fan-foolery. Why would I do that? Because it's a fucking beauty of an AU!!!! Do yourself a favour and tune into this masterpiece.

"Stuff We Did" by Captain_Panda

When the end comes, there is no last act of defiance from the great Tony Stark. The "Up" AU prequel to Married Life.

Just heartwrenchingly good. I have to be careful about when I re-read this because it can easily ruin me for a week.

Precious few gems but they are true, honest-to-god gems! I clutch these treasure chest items very close to my heart and hope you do too!

Go forth: SteveTony lovers, fuckers, ambassadors, champions, perverts, freaks, losers, dreamers, legends! Read, re-read, kudo, comment, spread legs and spread love.

[wurdulac]

last year i wrote a list of media that touched me. bcs i have shit for memory i was noting down things i watched, played etc. this year. so here's the list.

the city and the city by china miéville - loved it...

the longing - idle game that felt quite promising in the beginning. you play as a lonely shade that has to wait 400 days for his king to wake up. it can get kinda weird and idk how i feel about this anymore.

rain dogs - extremely bleak life circumstances, intense toxic friendship. 'fast food isn't good for you. but i fucking love it'

deadwood - very intriguing way of plotting a story of a settlement but some things abt were fucking stupid and i'm still frustrated when i think abt it. haven't finished the final season and i don't really feel like it.

vanished birds <- read this or else

dungeon meshi - most beautiful art with dynamically drawn creatures and beasts that then get shown being cooked into delicious (and nutricious!) meals in great detail. setting is a spoof of a stereotypical party adventure world but it tries to make sense of its rules and creates in turn something quite unique. great characters too.

wuthering heights - extremely good narrative device. never knew that we learn this story through a tale being told by a servant to some cringey guy. surprisingly well depicted psychology of the characters. reading abt child abuse upset me so bad. society will fuck you up. some ways to better your lot are closed to you based on your gender and race. fucking up people over generations. also moors. they're important.

ghost in the shell

barry - the fact that the show never lets him forget. the satire on show biz, loving the veterans. it's like a more clownish version of breaking bad in a way (both being concerned with morality). characters are caritaturish but everything they do is taken extremely seriously. also it's quite inventive with filmography. solid. loved it.

sangfielle - weird fiction arc of FaTT podcast.. extremely good setting

andor - they didn't lie when they said star wars can be good. abt opression and imperialism.. and droids done well.

repo man - plotted in a very fun way... unforgettable ending.

hellraiser - it was so promising. shouldn't have turned into tense rubic cube solving under most dire circumstances ever imo.

bg3 - the themes have made me insane. it managed to be cohesive. it's the. carousel of violence. cycle of abuse. relationship with power. trusting the other not to use violence against (even though they could). male manipulators. the dark urge. it's not without its faults and it should have been tighter (durge should be the main protag and no tav, chop down act 1, erase halsin)

the terror - such a mixed bag. a very good and tense thriller about imperialistic hubris but. they put a beast there. and the villain was??? idk man.

iasip (well technically i've been trying to watch it for years, but this year alone i watched like 4 seasons or maybe more) - i simply love iasip. its style of comedy that is irreverent. the mad schemes. awful dynamics. touching real darkness.

blowback (podcast) - about american imperialism. first season abt iraq war tone-wise feels like if behind the bastards and citations needed had a baby. recommended.

roadwarden - loved it. loved the setting!

anyway... i kinda stopped reading books after i quit my job (no longer commuting somewhere regularly so i stopped using my kindle). had plans to watch more movies but it's always a struggle to sit down and start watching. went to more than 0 galleries but not that many tbh. i sometimes don't know what to say and most of my comments are still pretty general and feel trite.

[fuckyeah-jessicabiel]

Jessica Biel for CosmoGirl October/November 1999 by Jodi Bryson 

Find out why this 7th Heaven star is the coolest friend a girl could have!  

"I'm definitely weird," Jessica Biel confesses as she digs  through the knick-knacks in her bedroom.   "I have some really wild  stuff."  She points out her collection of vintage sunglasses, a bunch of  so-bright-they're-blinding wigs, dozens of phone numbers taped to the  wall, and her favorite Abercrombie & Fitch ad.  "He is the hottest  Abercrombie model ever," she says.  

The 17 year old star of 7th Heaven just finished her third season  on the show and aced her junior year of high school.  Now she's  flinging clothes around her bedroom to prep for a European vacation with  two of her closest friends.  "I want to go someplace I've never been  with people I really love hanging out with," she says.  "I want to see  some amazing things."  

Jessie has that I'll-try-anything-once outlook down pat.  She  started her career as a model, but at 14 decided to give acting a whirl.   Like in a Hollywood fairy tale, she flew to L.A. and had just a few  auditions before scoring the primo role of Mary Camden.  

Jessie works on 7th Heaven six days a week, nine months a year.   But as soon as she steps off the set, straight-arrow Mary vanishes and  the real Jessie charms everyone around her with warp-speed chitchat  about her big plans for the future (a backpacking trip with her best  friend, college, and maybe a second career as a photographer).  Clearly,  Jessie is ready to take on the world.  First stop, Europe!  

The Big Trip 

"I have no idea what to expect," Jessie says of her European  vacation, "but I just can't wait to eat that good food!"  Is she worried  about travelling to strange countries where she doesn't know a soul?   "No, I'm very excited.  My mom has a checklist of things for me to do  before I go:  Make copies of my passport, driver's license, and credit  cards; pack these things close to my body but separate from my wallet.   My mother has planed it all out -- I just gotta do it."  

Jessie makes a surprisingly small pile of clothes at the bottom  of her bed, then crams it into a backpack.  "I'm honestly taking one  pair of pants, a T-shirt, a couple pairs of shorts, a few tank tops, a  sweatshirt, a bathing suit, and two pairs of underwear that I'll keep  throwing in the sink.  My camera is the most important thing."  

In addition to taking tons of snaps, Jessie has dreamed up the  coolest way to keep track of her European adventures.  "Instead of a  private diary, I'm going to take a big book, like a communal journal,  and anyone can write in it," she says.  "If someone says, 'Can I see  your journal and write a little entry?' that's cool.  It will be nice to  look back and read what we all did and what we felt together."  Bon  voyage!  

Best Friends  

Her travelling companions are her friends Shane Nelson and Light  Dreamer Eternity.  "Light rocks so hard," Jessie says.  And even though  she lives in L.A. now, Jessie is still supertight with her best friend  from her hometown of Boulder, Colorado, who's also named Jessie.  "I  have pictures of Jessie and me stuck all over my room," she says.   What's her secret for maintaining such strong friendships?  "There's  never the silent treatment," Jessie explains. "If I was in a fight with a  friend, I would just call and be like, What is the deal?  What did I  do?  What do we need to talk about?  How can we get it over with?"   Jessie's the kind of friend who wouldn't let you stay mad at her.  

A Special Guy  

Will her absence make anyone's heart grow fonder?  Jessie let it  slip that she has a long-distance boyfriend, but then she wouldn't spill  a single detail! (And believe us, we begged!)   But she did share her  sure-fire hook-up advice.  "I'm pretty forward with guys," she says.   "I'll just walk up to somebody and I'll be really blunt and say, 'What a  great-looking person you are!  Have an awesome day.'"   Does that  really work?  "Well, I don't say that to a guy because I want him to be  my boyfriend," she says.  "I just want to tell him."   What guy could  resist?  

Prom Night  

Unfortunately, Jessie didn't get to take her secret boyfriend to  her junior prom.  "I promised Beverley Mitchell [who plays her younger  sister Lucy on 7th Heaven] that I'd go to her friend's prom.  And she  made me promise that I wouldn't back out.  I found out a week later that  my prom was the exact same day!  So I missed my prom to go to another  prom with this kid who didn't have a date," she says.  She didn't skimp  on glamour for her first prom experience: She wore an elegant white  cami-and-skirt combo with superhigh-heeled sandals.  "It turned out that  we had a good time, but Bev totally owes me!"  

Bad Behavior  

Jessie doesn't always play it so straight and narrow.  There's a  sneaky story about the pink flamingo hanging from her bedroom ceiling.  

"We had just sold our house in Boulder, Colorado, and I loved  that house," she says.  "I wanted to see it one more time.   When my  best friend Jessie and I drove up to it, my eyes welled up -- there was a  pink flamingo sticking out of my front yard!  It was the chessiest  thing I'd ever seen.  I was not happy with that flamingo.  I thought,  This has to go.  So I ran and ripped it out of the ground.  I busted to  the car and yelled, 'Go, Jessie, go!' and we just took off.  I pulled  out the stick and put the flamingo in my suitcase, and took it home with  me," she says.  "I don't think the family even knew it was missing."  Um, Jessie...they do now.  

BRIGHT FUTURE  

Even though Jessie's a totally fearless adventurer, she still  gets homesick for Boulder.  "I miss the people, I miss the mountains.   It is so laid-back there," she explains.   Does she ever see herself  going back to settle down in the Rocky Mountain foothills?  "I have one  more year of high school, which seems like it's going to take forever --  and then I'm on my own!  I can be wherever I want to be!"   Look out  world -- here she comes!"