#Australia Smedry

[thesmileystudio]

Is it a bad thing that I want to see a villain Australia arc?

I mean the most silliest characters make the best villains

[moonzie-writes-stuff]

(Idea by @thesmileystudio but with the singular change of nOBODY ON THE SHIP KNOWING ABOUT IT)

So there I was, being rudely interrupted from my first dreamless sleep since the Highbrary by a frantic Bastille.

One thing we need to clarify. Don’t wake people up to help them after getting sick. I mean really, that’s extremely counterproductive to everything that any foster parents (or other Smedrys) have ever told me. (Surely there’s no oddly backwards Free Kingdomer logic about THAT, right?)

Of course, this situation might have possibly been different, since usually sickness isn’t caused by proximity to an acclaimed Hushlands landmark.

(No, I’m not kidding. In hindsight, why else would anyone build a giant metal arch in the middle of nowhere? For the “aesthetic?” Yeah, right.)

I’m going to assume you guys need context. I’m also going to assume I’m going to have to be the one to give it.

Fine. Here we go again.

“Why are we flying this way to Nalhalla? Isn’t it the other way?” I asked.

Kaz nodded. “We’re picking up Aydee on the way. I’m sorry, kid, but we’ve got to tell her the news about Attica.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Silence filled the aircraft after that.

For those of you reading this WITHOUT having read the last five books of my autobiography and Bastille’s sixth installment first of all, why? Why are you here? You don’t even know my name, do you? Those of you in the Hushlands are probably questioning why a prison in France is shaking me awake, aren’t you? Read the other books first, you sicko. Secondly, since of course you’re probably still here despite my admonishing, accept this recap.

My name is Alcatraz Smedry. My family is known for having Talents for stuff like breaking things (me), getting lost (Kaz), and being bad at math (Aydee). Or at least that’s how things used to go, until I accidentally released the Dark Talent upon the world and broke the talents. (You know, as one does under pressure.)

The Librarians control the Hushlands. (lands such as the United States or China) and hide that fact from everyone who’s not in their cult while simultaneously trying to take over the free kingdoms (lands such as Nalhalla, Mokia, etc.) and incorporate them into their ever-growing empire.

The last volume I wrote detailed our infiltration into the Highbrary (Or as Hushlanders might know it, the U.S. Library of Congress) and introduced “Cousin Dif,” aka Biblioden, aka the Scrivener, aka the original head of the Librarians who was supposed to be dead years ago.

He betrayed us all when we least expected it, then sacrificed my father on an altar and shot my grandfather, leaving me the last surviving member of the true Smedry line of Oculators, who can use special glasses to do cool stuff.

So, basically, we failed completely.

Or so I thought.

Bastille’s recently released installment covered a LOT of happenings, including but not limited to Grandpa Smedry somehow managing to get his talent back in time to save his life, (He’s still arriving late to his bullet wound to this day.) gravity breaking across the entire world, (I plead the fifth on that one.) a diplomatic discussion with the Dark Talent itself that ended in the other talents coming back, and me having no choice but to give a little bit of Smedry Talent to everyone in the world.

So if you ever find yourself waking up looking uglier than usual, or tripping over nothing, or putting something in one place and coming back to find it gone, that was probably my fault.

Sorry about that.

“Hey, Kaz? Can we stop for food somewhere?”

“Sure, kid. We’re coming up on St. Louis, so we can find a place there if anyone has any Hushlander currency.”

I had, in fact, procured some from the Highbrary, and I told Kaz so.

“Alright! Lemme just set the detour real quick,” Australia said.

“Nice, I’ve always wanted to see the Gateway Arch,” I said, sitting in the nearest empty chair.

Bastille scoffed. “I don’t understand Hushlanders. Lots of gates have arches. Why is this one so special?”

I shrugged. “Mostly because it’s big and metal, and I think you can go inside it, but that might be a different landmark. I guess we don’t have to see it.”

“Well, if we’re gonna be there anyway, I suppose we can stop by it for a few minutes,” Bastille said, rolling her eyes.

“Actually, if you’re in full armor and the rest of us minus Kaz are in formalwear… if we go somewhere that public, we’re definitely going to attract unwanted attention. We probably shouldn’t stop in a city that big at all,” I rationalized.

Bastille rolled her eyes. “There are extra clothes on this thing for a reason, Smedry. We can make something work.”

“Alright, then. Australia, I’m afraid you’re going to have to hover and let whoever’s coming with me down on the ladder. A giant penguin landing in the middle of the city would be way too noticeable. Speaking of which, who’s coming with me?”

Bastille, Sing, and Kaz volunteered.

“Alrighty, then. I’m going to need some way to keep contact with you guys. Australia, how do you feel about Courier’s Lenses?”

“Um… better than the first time the two of us used them?”

“That’ll work. Australia, you’re gonna have to take everyone’s orders and pass them onto me through the lenses. Can you do that?”

“Um… maybe? Do we have a backup plan?”

I shrugged. “Only if Kaz still has his cell phone.”

Kaz gave me a thumbs up. “Yup! Sure do!”

“Leave it with Australia and there’s our backup plan. Now, I’m still going to be at least acting like I’m using the phone. Hushlanders aren’t exactly… used to lenses, so don’t freak out when you see me on the phone. It’s purely for aesthetic purposes.”

“Okay.”

“Bastille, Sing, and Kaz, you go change into T-shirts and shorts. I’ll be doing the same. I’ll tell you if they’re on wrong when you’re done.”

And so began a somewhat infiltration into St. Louis.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When we came back together, we found out that Sing had no taste in clothes. At all.

At least Bastille had chosen a fairly normal-looking black tee-shirt with some sarcastic comment on it and a pair of bermuda shorts.

And it turns out Kaz looks pretty good in a sweater vest. (Who knew?)

Sing, however… Well, some things are better illustrated in pictures.

I looked at Sing. “Okay, you know what? Sing, can you just find a plain, white shirt?”

Sing nodded. “Alright!” he said, already running (tripping once) to the room he’d claimed on Penguinator.

“Bastille, that’s perfect. Great job.”

Bastille smirked. “Thanks, Smedry. You don’t look to bad yourself.”

(A/N: If you’re wondering what he’s wearing)

I blushed, quickly changing the subject when Sing came back, wearing, as I’d asked, a white t-shirt.

“Alright, Australia, drop us down there. We can walk from here.”

It was true. There was a Steak ’n’ Shake not too far from the edge of town we were approaching, so I told everyone ahead of time what their options were.

Australia dropped us off, and I put on my Courier’s Lenses as we walked to the Steak ’n’ Shake.

“Alrighty, guys. Check out the menu while I call Australia.” I said, pulling out the cell phone and acting like I was putting in a phone number.

“Hi!” Australia gasped. “OH MY GOSH ITS WORKING SO WELL??? WOW!”

I winced at her volume. “Okay, Australia. Ask everyone whether they want chicken tenders or a burger, and write it down so you can tell me.”

“You got it!” the Courier’s Lenses blinked out as Australia took them off.

Kaz grinned. “The cheeseburger looks pretty good. Also, what are milkshakes?”

I gasped, faux offendedly. “Okay yeah we have to introduce everyone to milkshakes. Wait, Kaz, do you know if anyone with us is lactose intolerant?”

Kaz shook his head. “Nope, nobody on Penguinator is lactose intolerant.”

“Great! Now I just have to-” at that precise moment, Australia’s Couriers Lenses were turned back on. “Nice! Australia, ask around for milkshake orders. They’ve got Vanilla, Chocolate, Strawberry, Banana, Oreo Cookies 'n Cream, Mint Oreo, Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough, Birthday Cake, Cotton Candy, M&M's, Reese's peanut butter cup, Reese's peanut butter, Reese’s chocolate peanut butter, Nutella, Butterfinger, Kit-Kat, and Snickers.”

(A/N: yes I did have to copy and paste the shake menu and delete the calories and ingredient information this hurt me)

Australia dutifully wrote down each flavor and made a saluting motion before turning off her lenses again.

“Alright, guys! Any minute now and we’ll be able to order.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

About half an hour later, the four of us returned to Penguinator with plenty of fast food for the others before immediately going back down to see the Gateway Arch.

A few minutes in, Sing tripped.

Of course, we made nothing of it.

A few minutes later, the milkshake started to disagree with me.

“Oof. I should NOT have gotten a large.”

Bastille scoffed. “Obviously.”

We came within sight of the arch, and my head began to pound.

Well, that’s not the milkshake, is it, I thought.

My stomach turned as we walked closer, and I found myself suddenly drained of all energy. Where before I’d had the quickest strides out of the team, now I was lagging about two feet behind Kaz, very much in last place.

Needless to say, Bastille noticed. Also needless to say, she decided to make fun of me for it. “You’d better not be falling asleep back there, Smedry,”

“No, m’fine,” I said, although I definitely was feeling a little sleepy.

We were so close; I couldn’t give up now. Bastille was gonna lose her mind when she found out we could, in fact, go inside the thing, up all the way to the top. There were windows up there, I was pretty sure.

She wanted to make fun of me for lagging behind? Well, we’d see how she felt about going ahead of everyone else when we were up six hundred thirty feet in the air.

The world seemed to spin all of a sudden, but on the bright side, we were almost to the ticket center.

“Hey guys! We can go inside it! Let’s go!” Sing exclaimed, pointing at a sign.

Kaz hung back. “I don’t know, guys. Are you sure you wanna go in? I mean, think about Bastille, that’s pretty high up…”

Bastille shuddered. “Don’t remind me.”

I gave a small smile that probably looked like a grimace.* “That’s the idea. It’s time I get some teasing ammunition for once.”

Kaz looked at me. “Al, you’re not lookin’ to good. I don’t know if you’d survive up there without passing out.”

“M’fine, Kaz. C’mon, let’s get our tickets.”

We waited in line at the ticket center for what felt like hours but was probably only a few minutes. My legs felt like gelatin, but Sing looked so excited, and I sure as heck wasn’t gonna be the one to rob him of this experience.

I inhaled sharply. White-hot pain stabbed through my head, uncannily reminiscent of the headaches I’d get as a child. (I now knew they were a result of Oculatory power building up in me at unhealthy levels.)

“You alright, Smedry? We can’t have you fainting away on us.” Bastille snarked.

“Fine, fine. Just a headache.”

“Drama queen.”

“Okay, Bastille.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Guys! The line’s moved!” Sing said, effectively finishing the argument for us.

I hobbled forward, swaying like one of those inflatable tube men you see in the Hushlands sometimes. (For you Free Kingdomers reading this, think holding a singular cooked noodle vertically and moving your hand back and forth slightly, but upside down and with two smaller noodles attached to the first one.)

Bastille steadied me. “Whoa, there. Don’t go fainting away on me, Smedry.”

I tried to think of a good comeback, but my mind wasn’t working and my vision was fuzzy and when I looked back at Bastille all that came out was, “S’rry.” (Brain-clouding radiation. Obviously.)

I don’t really remember what happened after that, but I woke up an indeterminate amount of time later, perfectly fine, with Bastille shaking me like a child rolling out play-doh.

“Bastille, stop, I’m awake!” I got up and looked around, taking in my surroundings, which seemed to be some sort of makeshift infirmary. “How and when did we get back here?”

“I carried you, idiot.”

“Oh.” I could feel my cheeks reddening at the implication that Bastille had been lugging me around like a sack of potatoes back to Penguinator.

I looked back up at Bastille, and immediately received a smack to the face as a reward for my eye contact.

“Ow… what the heck?”

Bastille then proceeded to tackle-hug me back onto the bed. I stiffened.

This is once again a time to tell the women reading this to please give us men a warning before you hug us. We need warning. (You know what, just everyone give people warning in general it doesn’t matter the gender.)

“Alcatraz, please NEVER do that again; Sing said he could feel your pulse slowing down. You could’ve died, Smedry. I…” Bastille got up and paced around the room, stopping at a window. “I can’t lose you.”

I blinked stupidly. “You can’t lose me?” What on earth was that supposed to mean?

Bastille looked down, and I wasn’t sure if it was the lighting or if her cheeks were genuinely as red as mine. “For one, your entire family would kill me, and for two, the knights would kill me again.”

“So, purely diplomatic, then,” I said, not sure why I was feeling strangely disappointed.

“That, yeah.”

I looked down at the ground, trying to hide the fact that my face was probably tomato red. We were flying closer to St. Louis, and as we approached, I could feel a headache flaring up again. I wobbled back to my bed as spots swam in my vision, and the last thing I remember before passing out was seeing the top of the Gateway Arch through the floor.

I woke up with Australia on the bed next to me, trying to calm down a panicked Sing.

“It’s fine, Sing. It was just a little headache.”

Sing raised an eyebrow. “You said you were really dizzy.”

Australia looked at me and slowly shook her head. “You should be worried about Alcatraz; he passed out again, but he’s awake now. Go interrogate him.”

With my luck, that did the trick, and Sing immediately ran over to (for some bizarre reason) check my vitals.

“Sing, I’m fine now. I don’t know what came over me.”

Sing looked about to cry. “You said you were fine last time and look what happened!”

“Yeah, why are we suddenly fine now?” Australia wondered. “Like, I was REALLY dizzy. Sing, you saw it. I almost fell over.”

“I don’t know, but I think I passed out again when we were over the arch.”

Australia nodded. “Yeah, the thing was, like, wiggling and stretching through my lenses. I got a headache just looking at it through them, but when I took ‘em off, it just went away.”

“Huh.”

“I might be crazy, but I think it’s the arch.”

“But if it’s the arch, why were only the two of us affected?”

“Good question.”

We sat there in silence, thinking about why the arch would give an adverse reaction to the two of us specifically.

“Oh,” Australia said, tapping her head like she’d just found out that the most obvious answer was, in fact, the right one.

“What?”

“I think it’s an Oculator thing.”

“Then why would I have passed out while you didn’t?”

“By the first sands, Smedry, isn’t it obvious?” Bastille’s voice came from behind me and I started. I’d forgotten she was there.

“Bastille, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but there are three different Smedrys in the room right now, so you’re gonna have to learn everyone’s first names at some point.”

“Shut up.”

“No.”

“Alcatraz…”

“What?”

Bastille then made a noise that sounded uncannily like a horse muffled into a pillow.

“Okay, what’s so obvious, then?”

“It’s because you’re so shattering powerful. I mean, have you ever seen Australia use Courier’s lenses from halfway across the country? On instinct?”

“Uh… no.”

Australia nodded. “Yeah, I can confirm I could NEVER.”

“Oh.”

*I know EXACTLY what a good number of the Hushlanders are probably thinking, and you’re thinking of the wrong fast food chain. Go smell some grass, or whatever it is the Hushlands kids say nowadays.

[threemoonwatchers]

Okay can we PLEASE get Australia Smedry in one of those T-shirts that says “I woke up like this”

I would draw this if I could art but I can’t art

[le-velo-pour-dru]

OMG DUDE I'M THE SAME AGE AS AUSTRALIA SMEDRY 🤯

[libralita]

I just realized that Australia Smedry is named that because Australia used to be where the British sent their prisoners.

Brandon can you not pun for five minutes.

[eevee-miscellaneous]

Australia by Eveart13

[doe-in-headlights]

Concilliabule for whatever strikes your fancy. (I'm thinking either for your good good boi Dipper or for Magica Madoka. Or for the Alcatraz and the Librarians series. God I hope I spelled that second one right.)

You spelled it right! The Alcatraz suggestion gave me an idea (and I’ll take any excuse to write about them honestly) so I think I’m gonna go with that!

Concilliabule - “A secret meeting of people who are hatching a plot.”

“Are you sure he really asked her out?”

Kaz nodded. “Would I ever lie to you?”

“How did she respond?” Australia chimed in as she leaned in to listen.

Kaz paused to think. “She didn’t really seem to know what a movie is.”

“But did she say yes or no?”

“Neither.”

“Really?” Australia’s eyes widened. “Not even a hint?”

“Not even a hint.” Kaz sighed as he leaned back in his seat. “Honestly, those two are going to be married and living together before they realize they like each other.”

“These things take time, you know,” added another Smedry. “You can’t force it.”

“Come on, Himalaya! It’s one thing to leave things alone, but those two really have something going there!”

Murmurs of agreement came from the various Smedrys came from all corners of the room. While the scene was a typical Smedry family meeting, the topic of choice was causing quite a bit of frustration. 

(It should be noted that one key Smedry had not been notified of the meeting: one Alcatraz Smedry. It should also be noted that Bastille Dartmoor, knight of Alcatraz Smedry, was not present in any form either.)

“Let’s think about this; are we sure they have something going there?” Folsom asked. “What’s he like when she’s around?”

“They bicker somewhat,” Sing added. “But I haven’t been around them for too long since the Downtown Library invasion.”

“My boy, it’s clear he cares about her!” Leavenworth added. “You can see it in his eyes. There’s definitely something there.”

“And he gets all red-faced when she gets close to him!” Australia laughed.

“He does? When did you see that?”

“In the Library of Alexandria. He gets this dazed look on his face; it’s like he forgot how to think!”

“Well, how does she act around him?”

“I really don’t know how to read her,” Kaz sighed. “Pops?”

Leavenworth paused to think. “She’s definitely different. You can tell when she cares about something, really cares, and she cares more about him than she’d like to admit.”

“Then why does she insult him all the time?” Folsom asked.

Kaz shrugged. “Denial, maybe. Himalaya?”

“Could mean anything. Maybe it’s her way of trying to tell him she likes him?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Sing said.

Leavenworth sighed with false exhaustion. “What are we going to do about these two?”

Folsom nodded. “I’d give their chemistry a four-and-a-half out of five; it’d be perfect if it had a payoff.”

A long pause settled the room into silence; then a wry smile settled across Kaz’s face as he spoke up again. “What if we gave them a payoff?”

Leavenworth raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, let’s give them….y’know, a little nudge.”

“Are you sure that’ll work?” Himalaya asked. “Like I said, forcing things isn’t a good call.”

“He asked her own on his own, and she would have responded if she knew what he was asking. I’d say they just need an icebreaker.”

“Alright, alright,” Himalaya smiled. “I’m on board.”

“Me too!” Australia chirped.

Folsom leaned forward in interest. “A solid idea, Kaz. What do you have in mind?”

***

“What kind of training did you say this was again?” Alcatraz asked as Grandpa Smedry led him through the halls of Keep Smedry. “I already had additional weapons training yesterday.”

“Not weapons training, lad!” Grandpa Smedry didn’t slow down, even as he turned corner after seemingly random corner. “Formal events training!”

“Formal what?”

“Ah, here we are.” Grandpa Smedry came to a stop in front of a massive door. “Althought we gave up the title, we Smedrys are still considered a royal family, remember? You’ll be getting invited to a lot of formal events, especially as you get older, and you need to know what to do should anything arise!”

Alcatraz raised an eyebrow. “This seems awfully short-notice. And weirdly specific. Besides, didn’t I do fine at the party on the day I arrived?”

“Ah, but that party didn’t have any formal dancing!”

“Formal dancing?” Alcatraz could barely open his mouth for another question when Grandpa Smedry pushed him through the massive doors.

“Enjoy yourself, lad!”

Alcatraz stumbled forward, and found himself in a stunning ballroom. A crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling, glass glittering in all colors of the rainbow. The floor sparkled with other, more opaque pieces of glass, set in a mosaic design. Himalaya and Folsom stood at the center of the room, with Kazan leaning against the far wall.

“What’s this about?” Alcatraz quirked an eyebrow.

“Exactly what he told you,” Kazan smiled coyly. “Himalaya and Folsom are going to teach you how to waltz.”

“Then why are you here?”

“I’m chaperoning.”

Alcatraz paused. “Like a school dance?”

“Exactly.”

He shook his head. “Fine, fine. What exactly do I have to do?”

Half an hour later, Alcatraz felt like he had some grip on waltzing. He copied Folsom’s movements as he and Himalaya spun circles around the room, with Alcatraz following behind by himself. There was no music (couldn’t risk setting off either of their Talents); instead, Himalaya kept time by counting out loud. It seemed rather pointless; but then again, didn’t a lot of this training feel pointless?

In fact, Alcatraz was rather proud of himself for being able to pick up any of the steps at all. Grace was not your strong suit when you naturally broke things at every turn, so any success was an achievement to him. When they finished with a final turn and bow, he felt he had done quite well for the day.

“Alright, now that you understand all the steps, we’ll have you do it with music,” Himalaya said as she and Folsom began to leave the room. “We won’t be here to help, but you understand.”

Alcatraz nodded, then turned to find the starting spot in the room.

“Oh! And you’ll have a partner,” Folsom added, just before they disappeared out of sight.

 “I-What?” Alcatraz turned around to see Bastille entering the ballroom.

“Don’t be rude, Smedry. I can dance just fine.”

“But….um….” Alcatraz tried not to admit to himself that he really would like to dance with Bastille. “Don’t you need the training too?”

“I already know how to waltz.”

“How?”

Bastille raised an eyebrow. “I’m a princess, remember?”

“Oh, right!” Alcatraz quickly tried to look somewhat nice, running a hand through his hair and dusting off his jacket. “Well then, um….” He shakily extended a hand to Bastille.

She took his hand, her arms falling almost automatically into the proper positions, and looked at him skeptically. “Why are you so nervous?”

“Nervous? I’m not nervous!” Alcatraz tried and failed to distract himself from the fact that she had a hand on his shoulder, and that his hand had now moved to rest against her back. He smiled sheepishly. “What makes you think I’m nervous?”

“Well, you’re shaking slightly, and you’re sweating quite a lot.”

The boy tried to come up with a response, but paused as he heard voices from just outside the room. “Australia! The lights!”

“Right!”

“Did you hea-” Before he could finish, the lights had suddenly dimmed. The chandelier now seemed to shimmer, letting off small flecks of pink and gold.

“Alcatraz, are you alright?” There was a genuine note of concern in Bastille’s voice.

“Me?” Alcatraz focused back in Bastille. Sands, she was close, and she seemed to carry all the grace and poise that he was lacking. She smelled like soap-she always did, so why did it still make him feel so dizzy?-and in the low light her silver hair seemed to shine like silk. He wasn’t sure if his legs would be able to carry him enough to dance. “I mean, uh, I’m fine!” Hopefully she couldn’t tell that the sound of his heartbeat was pounding in his ears.

The slow music began to quietly ring throughout the room (if his heartbeat hadn’t been so loud, Alcatraz might have heard someone cue Sing to start the music), and the two began to drift around the room together. As they danced, Alcatraz found himself transfixed by Bastille’s eyes; he had never truly noticed it before, but they were a pale blue, like crystals reflecting the sky. The gold flecks of the chandelier shifted in and out of her gaze. They were, in a word….

“Beautiful.”

“What?”

“Gak!” Alcatraz squeaked slightly as he realized that he had finished his train of thought out loud. “I mean, uh….” Brain-clouding radiation strikes again!

“Did you call me beautiful?”

“Well, I….”

Bastille glared at him, and Alcatraz scrambled to recover. “I, uh, I was looking at, um….” He managed to choke it out. “Your eyes.”

She paused. “My eyes?”

“Yeah, um….”

“That’s….” She paused, seemingly surprised. “That’s really sweet, Smedry.”

He blushed, glancing down. Had he really just told her that? “Thanks.”

As Alcatraz raised his head to refocus on the dance, he briefly paused; a crack of light was entering the ballroom, caused by Kazan opening the door. It was clear he was on his way out. “Kaz?”

Kaz only turned back, paused, then winked at Alcatraz before leaving. Alcatraz sighed.

“What is it?” Bastille tried to look behind herself while still dancing.

“Uh, nothing!” Alcatraz turned his attention back to her as the realization dawned on him: they were alone.

There was a long, silent pause as he tried to work out what he wanted to say. When he finally spoke up, his voice seemed weaker than it ever had before. “Bastille, what I was trying to say before in Mokia….”

“Yes?”

“When I said we should catch a movie, I, uh…..I meant that, um…..I mean…..” Bastille only stared back at him. 

“Ilikeyoualot.” The words came out in a jumble, and Alcatraz winced, bracing for impact. 

“I know.”

He looked up at her. “You do?”

“I like you a lot too.”

“You do?”

She smiled. “You idiot.”

Alcatraz slowly carried out the final steps of the dance in shocked silence. She likes me? She likes me a lot? She really really likes me?

As the final chords played, she smiled as he stared blankly at her. “If that’s what catching a movie means, then I’d love to.” Instead of bowing to each other, when the dance ended, she stepped closer to him, laughing at his expression. “You nerd,” she whispered, just loud enough for him to hear.

With that, she walked out through the giant doors. When they shut behind her, Alcatraz’s legs officially stopped being able to support him.

***

“What did she say? I couldn’t hear her!”

“Who cares?” Kaz grinned. “We have a genuine confession!”

“I guess Alcatraz has a date, then.” Himalaya laughed. “I didn’t think that would actually work.”

“I knew they could do it!” Australia cheered.

“Yes, I’d give that a 10 out of 10 in terms of romance,” Folsom added.

Laughing, Leavenworth enveloped the other Smedrys in a massive hug. “Kazan, go get my grandson up off the floor! He has a very important date to prepare for!”

[incorrectalcatrazquotes]

Australia: Alcatraz? Alcatraz! Whatcha looking at?

Alcatraz: An ancient slab with all of our darkest fears written on it.

Australia: Aw man, again?

[thesmileystudio]

Australia doodles ig

Both cursed and normal ones

[thesmileystudio]

I'm just thinking about headcanons again

I wonder is there any place where oculators gets dizzy? Like we all know when the mindstone got corrupted all the knights got weak

But if this was the other way around? What there was a place where only Free Kingdomers know that it exist? And what If this place makes oculators feels dizzy? Like,

"Oh dear glass, we getting closer to the [location] everyone, keep the oculators away!"

If this place actually existed, and Smedries had to there with Alcatraz (and maybe with Australia)?

I need a fanfic about this

@moonzie-reblogs pls I trust you

[threemoonwatchers]

Smedry gang and their knights!!! :D

(Featuring a few headcanons)

In order: Alcatraz, Bastille, Australia, Shasta, Aydee, Kaz, Grandpa Smedry, Draulin, Himalaya, and Sing!

(I also have Attica but only ten pics are allowed so I guess either tough luck or I make Folsom, Quentin, and maybe Angola, Brig, and Rikers to go with him)

[thesmileystudio]

Is anyone gonna talk about Australia Smedry? I'm just gonna make a head canon that she has ADHD

[moonzie-writes-stuff]

The marching band AU nobody asked for: AVTEL edition!

(All of these are based on kids who were in my band at some point. Some of them are gonna be the future of the kid and some of them are the past and some of them are now. Guess which one(s) is/are me! Pronouns will not help u because they’re adjusted to the character)

Alcatraz: that one confused freshman who went to a school with no extracurriculars and plays by ear most of the time, thusly forgetting to read the music when he has ten measures of rest during a song and playing the melody really loudly when he’s not supposed to. Broke his instrument right before his first ever competition and couldn’t play D’s for an entire season

Bastille: the sophomore who’s only section leader because she’s the oldest. She terrifies everyone, including the previous year’s seniors

Kaz: the kid who signed up as clarinet and then changed his mind halfway through the season and now plays tenor sax. (Ironically this kid in my band is actually really tall but gives off a LOT of Kaz vibes)

Shasta: the No-nonsense section leader who lowkey ruins the fun of band for everyone

Dif: has his flute at a 45-degree downward angle and STILL tells everyone else to keep their flutes up

Quentin: The Jack-of-all-trades instrumentalist who uses his prowess to play meme songs every chance he gets

Aydee: The singluar trumpet in the band. Somehow plays really quietly and everyone assumes she can’t play her instrument. She agrees. Her flutist friend doesn’t.

Australia: the very British drumline kid who has perfect pitch but for some inconceivable reason chose to play drums instead of an instrument where that’s actually useful. (Very rarely plays mallet percussion)

Pattywagon: the chaotic gremlin flute who the teacher always asks to play stuff as an example but adamantly refuses to ever be section leader

Sing: one of two drum majors, and thusly the only one called drum major

Draulin: other drum major, called “drum minor�� which she hates with a burning passion. People wish her happy birthday every day because her birthday was during band camp.

Grandpa Smedry: he’s either the kid who ALWAYS arrives exactly ten minutes late to early morning practices without fail OR the band director who everyone thinks of as a second dad and makes as many puns as he can. I can’t decide.

@obsessed-with-words-on-a-page help me add more I’m struggling rn cuz I’m running on like five hours of sleep thanks show choir qwp

[libralita]

“Or you could be a serial killer who specializes in reading books, then seeking out the authors and murdering them in horrible ways. (If you happen to fall into that last category, you should know that my name isn’t really Alcatraz Smedry, not is it Brandon Sanderson. My name is in fact Garth Nix, and you can find me in Australia. Oh, and I insulted your mother once. What’re you going to do about it, huh?)”—Page 214

What did Garth Nix ever to do to Brandon?