#EO old question paper

[vexic929]

Child in Time

Chapter 1

Warnings: implied child neglect, mentioned child death

Next chapter: link

By now, Barry Allen was fairly confident that nothing could surprise him anymore. He'd been through so many impossible things, done so many impossible things in just the last few months - he'd run faster than the speed of sound, fought multiple metas and supervillains and won - he couldn't fathom what was left that wouldn't feel like just another Tuesday at this point.

The familiar crackle of Speed Force lightning zipped behind him and Barry turned, startled and prepared for an attack, expecting the Man in Yellow. Instead, there was another crackle behind him as whatever it was left and his attention was immediately drawn to a baby carrier, securely placed away from the glass beakers and chemicals in his lab. He approached slowly, cautiously, his brow furrowing. The blanket overtop shifted and Barry flinched before shaking his head at his stupid reaction. It was a baby carrier, not a bomb...at least he was pretty sure.

The blanket moved again, this time distinctly as though something very small had hit it from the inside, and it drew Barry's attention to a piece of folded paper pinned to the top. 'Barry' was scrawled across the front in his own handwriting. Thinking about how bizarre this already was, Barry carefully removed and unfolded it.

I'm sorry I can't explain more. This is Eo, he's 8 months old. You and Iris need to keep him safe. Thanks, Barry

Barry's hands were trembling as he tugged the blanket off, filled with apprehension.

Inside the carrier, chewing on a teething toy shaped like a storm cloud, was a tiny, pale infant with wide blue eyes and the softest wisps of strawberry blond hair, dressed in a light blue onesie. Barry thought he looked like the most stereotypical baby he'd ever seen, like a Gerber baby with his chubby cheeks and long eyelashes. He reached into the carrier and gingerly picked up the little boy who immediately dropped the toy and reached back in the carrier with a distressed sound. His chubby fingers groped at nothing while his little lip wobbled.

"Oh no, don't cry, please don't- oh," Barry said letting out a relieved breath as he reached into the carrier and picked up a small teddy-bear dressed in a Flash costume. "Is this what you want?" He handed the stuffed toy over and the baby cooed and gurgled happily, nuzzling into its fur.

Barry's mind was racing. Who was this baby? Where had he come from? Where were his parents? Why had he brought him…here? In the past? From the future? God, he really needed to get better at explaining things to himself. He had a feeling Dr. Wells was going to kill future him for this.

On top of all the questions, Barry definitely wasn't ready to be a parent - he and Linda had barely started dating and he was only 24, he hardly felt like an adult himself. But the baby was here, now, and he needed someone to take care of him, to protect him from...something. Apparently that someone was him.

Well, not just him. 'You and Iris' the note had said, also. He definitely couldn't put this on Iris, she and Eddie had only just moved in together. He chewed his lip, looking down at the baby again before making up his mind, cradling the infant more securely to his chest, and speeding out of the lab.

The baby chewed on the bear's ear, wide blue eyes tracking everything he could see as Barry arrived in the cortex. Cisco, who had been making his way across the room, paused and pulled the lollipop from between his lips, using it to point at the infant, his brow furrowed in confusion.

"Um, what's that?" He asked. Eo squeaked helpfully in response, tiny feet kicking at the air.

Barry shifted his grip to hold the baby more securely. "Guys, I think we have a problem."

Dr. Wells' keen blue eyes flickered between Barry, Eo, and the bear plush for a moment, seeming to need that moment to process what he was seeing. Barry couldn't really blame him, he hadn't been expecting to have an infant in S.T.A.R. Labs either. After a beat, he wheeled forward and offered his arms to take the baby. Barry handed him off gratefully.

"Indeed. Who is this, Mr. Allen? Where did he come from?" He asked as the baby settled against his shoulder, babbling in his ear and waving his pudgy fist in the air, the bear swinging and nearly knocking off Dr. Wells' glasses. Dr. Wells removed them and set them out of the baby's reach.

Barry shrugged helplessly. "I'm not sure. I guess I - future me, I mean? - brought him back to me - past me. I-I guess he's not safe wherever - whenever - he's from and I thought that I could take him here?"

"Did you just say future you? As in you time traveled?" Cisco asked, looking torn between surprise and excitement at the prospect. "Bro, that's sick!"

Eo babbled loudly as though agreeing. Barry gave another helpless shrug and Caitlin finally set down her work to cross the room and examine the infant.

"He certainly doesn't look related to you, Barry, he shares none of your characteristics - of course, he could be adopted," she added as the baby reached for her.

"Yeah, I dunno. I left myself a note but all it said was he's in danger, he's 8 months old, and his initials." And that he and Iris should take care of him, but he wasn't about to bring that up.

Caitlin hummed. "He looks as though he's hit the growth milestones you'd expect for 8 months. I'd need to give him a proper exam to know for sure."

"He's kinda creepy," Cisco commented. "Like that creepy Twilight robo baby, Chuckesmee. Uncanny Valley, demon baby creepy."

"Cisco." Caitlin chided, giving him an exasperated look.

"What? You can't tell me he's not creepy, look at him!" Cisco insisted, gesturing towards him.

"What are his initials?" Dr. Wells asked curiously.

"E-O," Barry answered, watching as Caitlin took the baby and bounced him lightly. Eo cooed, pulling at a button on her blouse.

"Well, I suppose we should keep an eye on 'Eo' for the time being and hope your future self returns for him sooner rather than later." Dr. Wells said finally, replacing his glasses.

"I'm going to give him an exam, make sure he's healthy. Barry, why don't you go get some baby supplies; bottles, formula, baby food, bibs, diapers, onesies, teething rings, pacifiers," Caitlin listed off, adjusting Eo to her other arm and carrying him to the med bay.

Barry was back with the requested supplies before Caitlin had even set Eo down. The tiny boy immediately pulled her stethoscope into his mouth as soon as it she brought it close, wide blue eyes watching her inquisitively.

"Cisco, can you come distract him while I examine him?" Caitlin asked as she tried to pull the stethoscope away gently so she could press it to his chest and he grabbed a tiny fistful of her hair instead.

Cisco made his way into the room and Barry made to follow but Dr. Wells stopped him. "Barry, a word?"

Barry turned, surprised by the seriousness in Dr. Wells' tone. "Yeah, sure," he replied, following the older man to a the hall.

Dr. Wells folded his hands together, his expression grave. "Barry, I understand your impulse to take responsibility for this child, but this isn't just a matter of caring for a baby. We have no idea what his presence here could change, what potentially has already changed."

Barry nodded, running his fingers over his mouth anxiously. "I know. But I can't exactly take him back, I mean, I don't even know when he's from even if I could. I didn't even know time traveling was a possibility until like 20 minutes ago. And if future me thought it was important enough to bring him here, then I have to believe there's a good reason for it."

"I understand your concern and I'm sure that your future self had good intentions but our main priority should be returning him to his time." Dr. Wells sighed heavily and removed his glasses. "I must not be present in that future because otherwise I most certainly would have told you that this was a terrible, stupid, dangerous idea. The ramifications of the action of bringing him here alone are entirely unpredictable, much less keeping him here for an extended period of time. We need to focus our energies on getting him back home and minimizing the damage, you especially need to focus on that. Until we can return him, I think it best if he stays with me so you don't risk becoming attached."

"Dr. Wells-" Barry started but Dr. Wells lifted a hand to silence him.

"He'll be in good hands, Barry, you don't need to worry. I have experience in the area - I had a daughter, Jesse, and while her mother certainly did more than her fair share of the work, I'm more than capable of caring for an infant." Dr. Wells assured him.

The past tense 'had' made Barry's heart clench and before he could stop himself he asked, "what happened to her?"

Dr. Wells' expression softened. "Jesse passed away when she was still a young child. The car accident that took my wife took her as well, much too soon. She was three."

"I'm so sorry, Dr. Wells. I had no idea."

Dr. Wells waved off Barry's condolences. "I'm not telling you this to garner sympathy, Barry, just to reassure you that he'll be well cared for."

Barry shifted foot to foot, feeling conflicted. On the one hand, he knew Dr. Wells was right. This was probably the safest option for the baby. But on the other, he couldn't shake the feeling of responsibility, that this child had been left with him for a reason.

"I...Dr. Wells, I know you'd probably - definitely - be the better option but I feel like there's a reason I brought him to myself. I promise I'll come to you with any questions I have but I think I should be the one to take care of him, at least for now. I mean who knows what he's even in danger from, whatever it is could hurt you and him both," Barry said finally.

Dr. Wells regarded Barry for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Finally, he let out a resigned sigh and nodded. "Very well, Barry, if you insist."

Barry nodded and returned to the cortex after a moment, feeling strangely guilty. Cisco and Caitlin had Eo on the floor between them, lying on his stomach on a S.T.A.R. Labs sweatshirt to prevent him from making contact with the cold, hard metal flooring. Caitlin pursed her lips as the infant shuffled his feet and waved his tiny arms, seemingly unable to get them underneath himself.

"How is he?" Barry asked, coming to sit between them, next to Eo. Eo rolled onto his side and watched Barry, tugging the sleeve of the sweatshirt up and into his mouth.

"Healthy, for the most part, but he seems...pretty delayed developmentally," Caitlin said with a heavy sigh. "It's hard to tell for certain; infants can't exactly say what they're capable of, but usually if you put them on their stomachs and they're able to crawl then they will do so or at least start to. At this point he should be trying to stand but he won't even army crawl."

Barry's heart sank at Caitlin's words. He looked down at Eo, who was happily chewing on the sleeve of the sweatshirt, oblivious to the conversation happening around him. The weight of responsibility settled heavier on Barry's shoulders.

"Do you think there's something wrong with him?" He asked, fearing the answer.

Caitlin shrugged. "I'm not a pediatrician. I know what milestones he's supposed to have hit at this stage and he seems to be missing a few but I couldn't tell you if they're significant enough to warrant concern."

Barry's mind raced as he processed Caitlin's words. He felt a surge of protectiveness towards Eo, mixed with a deep sense of worry. What if something was seriously wrong with him? What if Barry wasn't equipped to handle it?

"I could run some blood work on him," Caitlin offered after a moment. "I think he's otherwise fairly healthy. He's a good length and weight, his vision is fine, he tracks pretty much everything, and responds to auditory stimulus."

Barry nodded, feeling a mix of relief and dread at the prospect of finding out more about Eo's condition. "Yeah, let's do it. I want to make sure he's okay."

[tagsecretsanta]

From @ajpendragon

From @ajpendragon to @emtb319

Happy Holidays! 

Secret Santa

“John, what is this ‘Secret Santa’ that you have in your calendar? I know about Santa, but he is not a secret?”

John paused where he was buried headfirst in an electrical panel. “Secret Santa is a Christmas tradition we do. Each person is in charge of buying a present for someone else in the family, but no one else knows who is buying for whom. It’s a supposed to be a surprise, but we always try to guess who has your name.”

“Can I play too?”

“You’ll have to play fair. No peeking through emails or computers to see who has your name, no finding out and telling people who has them, no using the security cameras to watch everyone.”

“But I need to have access to the security cameras in case of emergency.”

“I didn’t say you couldn’t use them. Just don’t use them to cheat.”

“Ok.” The AI sounded oddly offended that John would question her. 

“And no looking at search history or orders to figure out the gifts, no trying to analyze everyone to see who they have, no trying to figure anything out!”

“Ok, ok.” She huffed loudly. The familiarity of the sound was concerning, and John made a mental note to stop her hanging out with Gordon. He was clearly a bad influence. 

“I promise not to cheat.”

*****************************

They drew names for Secret Santa the next day. EOS managed to randomize the names, draw one for herself, and then print out the rest onto slips of paper, which Scott folded carefully and passed around. 

She observed them with interest, watching the way they barely glanced at the name before hiding it again. Gordon even went so far as to eat the piece of paper so no one could see who he had. They all sat lost in thought for a few minutes, clearly trying to think of gift ideas already. 

One by one, they excused themselves, each heading off back to their normal day. “John.” 

He turned back. “Yes?”

“I may require some assistance. Would it ruin the surprise if I required your hands at some point?”

“I think we can allow it. Let me know when you need me to help. I’ll be in my room for now, trying to come up with some good ideas.”

EOS waited in the lounge for a few minutes before tracking Scott’s signature. He was moving around in his room, but appeared to be on his way out for a run. She waited for a few more minutes to ensure he wasn’t coming back before switching to the camera inside his room. 

She had a vague idea of what to get him. She knew he liked old books, but which book in particular to get was the harder question. She stared at his shelf for a while, memorizing titles and comparing genres to figure out what he liked. And then she found the perfect one. The middle of a shelf was filled with a series, all beautifully bound and matching except for one paperback shoved in the middle. 

A quick glance at the title and brief internet search later, and she had found the perfect gift. It was fairly expensive, which was probably why Scott hadn’t bought it for himself, but it was nowhere near the price limit John had given her. 

The old bookstore that was selling it promised that it would arrive in plenty of time for Christmas, and so she ordered the book, and settled in to wait for its arrival. 

*******************************

When the package arrived, John was roped into wrapping it according to her specifications, which were extensive. John had to remind himself once again to talk to Gordon about their interactions, because he had clearly given her tips on wrapping. The original small package, about the size of a large book, was wrapped, put into a bigger box, wrapped, etc…

It ended up being the biggest package under the tree. EOS was incredibly proud of herself, and waited eagerly for Christmas morning. 

******************************

“Good morning, Scott Tracy.” EOS’ voice startled Scott, and his jump (that he would deny if anyone asked) splashed batter over the edge of the bowl. 

“Good morning, EOS.” Scott wiped the drips from the counter, and turned back to his mixing. “Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas!” The AI sounded excited, and Scott smiled. She had grown so much since they had first met her, and John had done well teaching her. It was almost like having a niece, although one he couldn’t see or touch. 

“What are you doing in the kitchen so early? You normally go for a run at this time.”

“It’s Christmas.” He replied, turning the griddle on to start pre-heating as he finished the batter. “We all do things a little differently on Christmas.”

“John told me about this. You call them traditions, right?”

“Yes. Try looking it up.”

EOS went silent for a few minutes, and he started pouring circles of batter onto the griddle. He had covered half of the cooktop before she spoke back up. 

“These all seem very interesting. But quite a few of them seem to conflict. How do you do all of them?”

Scott dropped blueberries onto half of the pancakes, and scooped up chocolate chips for the rest. “No one can do all of the Christmas traditions in the world. Each person or family choose which ones they want to follow, usually the same ones their parents or grandparents do, although sometimes people add new ones.”

He paused to flip the pancakes, then resumed his explanation. “We always do Secret Santa, which you already know about, and then we have pancakes for breakfast before we open presents. Dad used to make them, but since he’s gone, I make them now. Each person has their favorite flavor.”

EOS was silent for several minutes, and Scott focused on flipping the finished pancakes onto a plate and pouring new ones. 

“What do pancakes taste like?” She finally asked. 

“Uhhhhhhh…” He trailed off. “I’m not really sure how to answer that. They’re usually pretty fluffy. Some of them are sweet, if you put chocolate chips on them. They blueberry ones are a mix of sweet and sour. I don’t really know…”

He cut off as Virgil entered the kitchen. “Virgil, perfect! You’re good with words and uh…describing things. EOS wants to know what pancakes taste like.”

Virgil shot a glare at his older brother, who smiled smugly and went back to his pancake making, ignoring any attempts to draw him back into the conversation. 

*****************************

By the time Virgil had satisfactorily explained the taste of pancakes, breakfast was ready. Everyone gathered around the table, grabbing plates and helping themselves to the stacks of food, scooping fruit and whipped cream, pouring syrup, spreading butter and peanut butter. The table was quiet except for the sounds of eating. 

The pancakes that had taken nearly an hour to cook disappeared in less than twenty minutes. Plates were piled in the sink, but the rest of the cleanup was left for later as they all eagerly hurried to the lounge. 

Scott gave his gift first, a set of old star maps in perfect condition for John. Alan got tickets for a racing event he had been talking about for months from Virgil, and John built an incredible underwater camera for Gordon, allowing him to get amazing footage on his next dives. 

Gordon had drawn EOS. He had spent hours working on and coding a video of his best pranks, as well as compiling all the best videos off the internet. It would have been so much faster if he had asked John for his help, but he had insisted on doing it himself. 

She was delighted, downloading it as quickly as possible. John tried to protest, worried about the inevitable consequences of giving an incredibly powerful child access to so much potential for trouble. But before he could voice it, the download was complete, and EOS and Gordon were busily chattering away about what pranks they were going to try. 

John made another mental note, joining his long list that he really needed to start getting completed. No leaving his door unlocked for the foreseeable future, and no eating anything that Gordon gave him. 

The last of the gifts were passed out, but they all stayed in the lounge, enjoying the rare downtime and each other’s company. Gordon and EOS spent for too long plotting for anyone else’ comfort, Alan joining in eventually with a few ideas of his own, but the amount of joy they were finding was rare enough that no one had the heart to stop them. 

John, Virgil, and Scott retreated to the kitchen, watching their brothers and daughter/niece plan. “We’re going into hiding for the next few months, right?” 

Virgil and John nodded. “I’ll prep Two.” 

“Grab some supplies. Meet down there in twenty minutes.”

They split up quickly, the plotters in the lounge too busy to notice. John knew it wouldn’t last for long. EOS would notice as soon as Two took off, but at least they had a head start. 

They were going to need it!

[mrs-monaghan]

Few jkkrs said that hybe is a money leecher and they know how to get it through BTS. They be using BTS's name anywhere they could to even push other grps so they kind of knows that tkk is the biggest ship in the fandom and if they sell it they gonna get money. Sell in the sense of you know show more content of tk toghter by pairing them together and like that. No but we actually didn't get any jkk paired up together last yr. You see it's mostly tkk they have paired up. The only time jkk was paired together was during that photoshoot where they created their old photos and they went in some of order of the song which leaded to make some pairs and that ended up jkk being paired toghter by the rules. In last run it was cause they chose the cheats/paper of names by themselves and that again landed jkk toghter but in any other content jkk weren't paired together at all....

My question is why now anon? Why now? They've always paired Jikook together in the past. If this is about Taekook having most shippers then shouldn't they have been capitalising on them sooner? 🤔

Lack of Jikook pairings has to do with 2 things.

1) MS is looming. This is not the time for Jikooking

2) How the albums are dropping also determines how they're going in.

Which again circles back to MS.

Yoonmin's albums were next to eo so pairing them is good for them. Another way of promoting them. Again Tkk albums are the last two so pairing them makes the most sense. I don't think its about the cult at all. Its just the timing.

[rahleeyah]

Hi queen I have some questions: why do you think the show made the decision to make elliot not know about Lewis? Did he choose not to ever look her up? Was he abroad at the time? Undercover? Did Kathy know? Do his kids know? Why didnt they tell him? How has he still not heard abt it from someone? What do you think the purpose is? What are your thoughts?? It’s always been so interesting to me that he clearly doesn’t know still and I wanna figure out why that is, why the writers chose to do that

i don't know why they made it, but i know why i would have done it, if i'd been in charge -

bc leaving the door open for liv telling him about lewis herself, and him not knowing, is fucking grade a top tier angst. that is delicious drama. that kind of dramatic irony - when we the audience know something vital that a character does not know - is so, so compelling to watch unfold. it's such a good opportunity for entertainment purposes that the logistics seem to matter less than leaving the door open for that confrontation. narratively, it is a fantastic choice.

however, if we're looking for like meta, in-canon explanations, i actually don't think it's that much of a stretch that he doesn't know. he "went walkabout" for some period of time before starting the private security - which i have always read as like. military contracting work - gigs, which did involve him travelling. i don't recall if he tells us specifically how long he was "walkabout", but lewis is 2 years after he left. idk what exactly he meant by walkabout - how does he go walkabout while kathy is at home with a toddler? did he literally go on a little eat pray love adventure after Jenna, leave behind not just the job and olivia but kathy, too? where was he? in a cabin in the woods? hiding out in jersey patching up his relationship with bernie? what the fuck, elliot - but probably it wasn't 2 full years. i think it's safe to say that by the time lewis happens, he's in the private security work. so it's safe to say a) he's no longer reachable at his old number and b) he might not have been in the country when it happened.

so then the question becomes well does anybody else know what happened?

i think the kids are out; yes, what happened to liv was on the news but like. how likely is it that the kids, who are somewhere between like 18-25, are watching the nightly news? how likely is it that they're reading actual newspapers? how likely is it that any news other than big national headlines (which this wouldn't necessarily be, how often do stories about cops getting hurt become national headlines?) is getting to them when they're that age? not to be like "kids don't keep up with the news" but the scale of this news story and the speed with which stories get replaced in the news cycle and the fact that at this point there's no more physical paper on the doorstep makes me think it's entirely likely the kids don't know. especially if any of them went out of state.

which leaves kathy.

knowing what we know about kathy's relationship to eo on account of the letter, i don't think it's out of the question that kathy found out about it, and didn't bring it up. not bc she's keeping it from him, not even bc she thinks he doesn't know, but bc i do think, only two years after elliot left the job, when he's only just settling into his civilian life and then only barely, the last thing i think kathy wants to do is speak olivia's name. it doesn't have to be vindictive on her part; it could just be straight up self preservation. she doesn't want to know if he knows; she doesn't want to be the one to tell him if he doesn't, and if he does she doesn't want to see him grieving for someone else.

and i love the idea that he purposefully doesn't look her up. bc he can't. bc seeing her face, seeing her live her life without him, would break him. bc he knows if he sees her face, even on a computer screen, the ache he feels for her will threaten the new life he's built for his family. he can't do that to kathy, and he can't do it to himself.

aand i also think it's not unlikely that no one's talked to him about. for one thing, they probably all think he knows, and for another, it's been ten years. it's not a wound anyone close to liv wants to reopen, and it's not something that people who aren't close to her are likely to be talking about much.

honestly i would have more questions if he did know (bc wtf, how could he know and not show up for her????) and i would be really disappointed bc i wanna see liv tell him for herself and i want to watch his anguish at learning this news in real time.

[sapphosarchive]

Eos lipbalms, BBM messanger, chunky mobile phones, iphone 3/4/5s, the iphone 5c and the neon colours, beachy california pictures, Kylie Jenner with the green/blue hair, blogging on blogger, shout and bliss and mizz magazines, shout magazine specifically before like 2013, triangl bikinis, baby lips lipbalm, mousse foundation, John Green, specifically "the fault in our stars" and "paper towns", Bethany Mota, Zoella, those highly edited rectrica photoeditting apps, old instagram, starry galaxy leggings, moustaches on everything including the iconic "I moustache you a question" white tshirt with a black moustache and the black glasses, the ballet flats that were such bad quality they broke and smelled when the school year was over and it felt like walking on the flat ground, chokers but specifically the one that looks like a net tattoo, Victoria's Secret and the PYNK obsession, justgirlythings and the #swag posts, vans shoes, converse, drawing all over said converse, bright aqua and red together, those platform boots that were huge among goth/emos, UGG boots, starbucks frappes specifically the strawberries and cream and the caramel ones, bright orange foundation caked on your face, weed socks, stardoll, pale grunge tumblr ( pale and bruised legs with fishnet tights and the pale grunge shit that romanticised smoking), the horrible internet communities on tumblr/online in general that romanticised mental illness and abuse, the various other subgenres of the time like hipsters, american apparal, boho fashion worn at coachella, 1D, 5S0S, the vamps kinda, x factor, skins, born to die album, artic monkeys am, black and white quotes, the nostalgia of the silly fun things but the horror at looking back at the terrible romanticising of illnesses and abuse.

[tittaapt]

Andromeda glyphs

Andromeda glyphs install#

Andromeda glyphs update#

The bottom two spots on the right were blank, but the presence the "triangle vending machine" glyph in the bottom left means there’s only one place the same glyph can go in the bottom right block. Because we know that’s the only place in that row or column that glyph can appear, we also know where it can’t appear in adjacent blocks. In the example above, the red glyph in the bottom left is one of the provided clues, so it’s definitely right. Sometimes the solution is more about knowing what can’t go there. You’ll often have multiple ways to check your work - in the image above there are three glyphs already filled out in the row, column and block we’re working on.

Andromeda glyphs install#

Just install this mod and all those mysterious alien glyphs. We named these "E sitting down," "square wearing a hat tipped back at a rakish angle," "bucktoothed snake" and "triangle vending machine." Fill in the new blanksĪfter you drop in a few glyphs, check again for rows, columns or blocks with three glyphs filled in and repeat the process. Now thanks to NexusMods user Smorris2012, it can look even more like the age-old pen and paper game. If it helps, name the glyphs so they’re not just abstract shapes. This makes your job much easier - just fill in whichever glyph isn’t there. The first thing to look for is any row, column or block that already has three glyphs filled in.

Andromeda glyphs update#

Scan them, and the puzzle will update accordingly. Use your scanner to follow the yellow power conduits to the nearby glyphs. The very first step for these puzzles is to fill in those question marks. The number of glyphs in each of these units is the same as the number of glyphs available to choose from - four glyphs per row, column and block means you have four glyphs to choose from. There are four of each for you to work with, and these are your basic tools for the process of elimination. The ultimate goal of these puzzles it to make sure that no glyph repeats within each row, column and block. We’re going to use the first one you encounter - the one on Eos you find during the "A Better Beginning" mission - as an example. We’ll give you the basics to get you used to thinking about these puzzles. In case you’re struggling, we’re here to help. The only real trick is filling in the blocks with the unfamiliar glyphs rather than (presumably) familiar numbers. If you’re familiar with the logic puzzle with the Japanese name that was designed by a 79 year-old guy from Indiana (we had to force ourselves to close that Wikipedia tab to keep from falling down that rabbit hole), you’ve got a big head start on interacting with remnant tech. Mass Effect: Andromeda guide and walkthrough - Polygon

[marsbutterfly]

hey love, i don't know if you're taking reqts or not, but i have an idea that i think you'll like idk! lol What if the foreign s/o taught the Tokrev characters to say "I love you" in their native language? (u don't need to specify the language/country if you don't want to, but if you want to accept a suggestion, could it be brazilian portuguese? in this case the 'ily' would be "Eu te amo" omg)

idk i was just here and i had this idea, you can choose the characters ok? but anyway, thanks for the attention!

ᴀ/ɴ: ᴀs ᴀ ʙʀᴀᴢɪʟɪᴀɴ ɢɪʀʟ, ᴍʏ ʟɪʟ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ ɪs sᴏ ʜᴀᴘᴘʏ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴛʜɪs ʀᴇǫᴜᴇsᴛ. ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ <𝟹

Headcanons: Teaching Baji, Hina, Kazutora and Mikey To Say I Love You In Your Native Language

ʟᴀɴɢᴜᴀɢᴇ: ᴘᴏʀᴛᴜɢᴜᴇsᴇ

- Baji can barely speak his own native language, much less a whole different one but he tries so hard.

- He uses google translate to try and start writing letters for you in another language, but as you can probably tell, they aren't very well written.

- One night you caught him looking at an old dictionary you had, trying to decipher what the strange words meant and you had to build up the courage to go and disturb him because it was adorable.

- "What are you doing?" You ask, quietly. You kneel by his side and he gasps, closing the book shut.

- In that moment, you notice a red blush spreading across his cheeks as he looks away, hand touching the back of his neck.

- "Baji Keisuke." You say his full name and his head snaps back, eyes wide.

- "I was trying to find out how to say I Love You in your native language, ok?" He says, raising his hands as a sign of defeat. "But I'm failing miserably."

- Your heart nearly stopped beating for a second and you immediately burst into laughter.

- Tears in your eyes from laughing so hard kind of laughter.

- Baji's blush deepens and he pouts, crossing his arms before his chest.

- "You could have just asked me, you know?" You say, wiping away a single tear.

- "But then it wouldn't be a surprise." He responds and you shrug your shoulders.

- "But that dictionary doesn't have the translations for your native language, you would be looking for the right words for days, weeks even."

- "Can you just teach me how to say it?" He begs and you nod, picking a piece of paper from the floor and a pencil from the desk beside the bookshelf.

- "I means Eu." You begin, writing the word down. "Te amo means Love You."

- "Eo teh amo" He says, awkwardly reading the paper and you smile, wrapping your arms around his neck before pulling him in for a long, well deserved kiss.

- "Eu te amo." You whisper against his lips.

ʟᴀɴɢᴜᴀɢᴇ: ғʀᴇɴᴄʜ.

- Hina has always been so interested on everything surrounding your culture and where you came from.

- She would ask questions about your hometown or the people you grew up with.

- She asks about your parents, siblings, pets, anything that sounds remotely interesting and even the boring parts about your life in another country.

- One day, without letting you find out, she began to take classes in an attempt to impress you before asking you out on a date.

- She knew a few words already but she wanted to be able to fully ask you out.

- Hina became the best student she could be, getting straight A's and perfect pronunciation.

- When the day came, she could feel her heart beating in her throat. A nervous sweat dripping down her forehead as she walked closer to your door.

- She knocked a few times and nearly threw up when it took you longer than a minute to answer.

- But when you did, she nearly stopped breathing.

- The sight of you in your pajamas, messy hair and a mug filled with hot chocolate in hand. A smile on your lips as you ask her what she's doing there and if she would like to come in.

- "I have something I want to say to you." She says, straightening her posture. You are baffled but still curious to know what she has to say.

- "Okay, I'm all ears." You say and she takes a deep breath.

- "Sortez avec moi"

- You widen your eyes, "Really?" and she nods.

- "Je t'aime" She says, pulling you by the waist and you yelp in response, laughter leaving your lips.

- "I love you too."

ʟᴀɴɢᴜᴀɢᴇ: sᴘᴀɴɪsʜ.

- Kazutora is constantly trying to be sexy but he fails miserably most of the time because he is a precious baby boy.

- So when you first told him that your native language isn't the one you use to communicate with him, he was fascinated.

- He thought it was the hottest thing in the world that you could speak more than one language so fluently.

- So, while he was in jail, he started asking other inmates to teach him how to speak Spanish because he wanted to impress you.

- He would write down sentences he wanted to say to you and read them before bed.

- He would leave the small piece of paper by his bed at all times, right next to the picture of you he had in his bunk.

- He left this little detail out of the letters he would write to you while in prison so he could have something to surprise you with once he was out.

- The day he got out, you were the first person he went to see. You couldn't pick him up because you were at work and it broke your heart to not be there for him.

- But as soon as you saw him, your heart filled with so much love that you ran towards him.

- Kazutora wrapped his arms around you and suddenly your feet weren't touching the ground anymore.

- He brought his lips closer to your ear and whispered: "Te quiero."

- "Te quiero más" You replied and he nuzzled his nose against yours. "Since when do you speak spanish?"

- "I have many talents." He says and you giggle.

- "I can't wait to see them all."

ʟᴀɴɢᴜᴀɢᴇ: ɢʀᴇᴇᴋ

- Mikey is the kind of person who would do anything for his s/o.

- When you first started dating, he could tell that you had an accent but he couldn't put his finger on where the accent was from.

- Finally, you told him that you were from another country and he was ecstatic.

- He spent half an hour trying to decipher where you are from but with little to no success. You ended up telling him where specifically you were from.

- He sat there and he listened to your stories about home for hours up until the moment you started to cry because you were so homesick.

- He wrapped an arm around you and allowed you to cry on his shoulder.

- After dropping you off, he drove home so fast that it took him less than 5 minutes to get there.

- He immediately began doing research on how to say things like: you're beautiful or I love you.

- The next day, he showed up to pick you up from class and he had a bright smile on his lips, something you didn't see very often.

- "What are you smiling about?" You ask, planting a kiss on his cheek before taking the helmet from his hand. He didn't respond.

- Instead, he takes you to a Greek restaurant down the road and your heart melts at how thoughtful he is.

- He orders your favorite dish, something you had told him about a few times.

- He has a strange but determined look on his face. You can see the gears moving in his brain as he attempts to say something.

- "Σ' αγ" He says and you furrow your eyebrows at him.

- He doesn't attempt to say it again. Instead, he pulls out his phone on a translator app he found the night before and hits the voice button.

- "Σ' αγαπώ"

- And you realize why he was smiling: because he knew this would bring a smile out of you.

[hipsterarcade]

When I attempt to post something after an extended period of time I find myself questioning every aspect of this page, from my writing style and amateurish photos down to the layout and the name. How much of who I am is in a name? I've been "HipsterArcade" for a decade now. Does one outgrow a moniker and get to change it or is it something we live with and carry with us?

This probably sounds silly as you, dear reader, understand well that I can and have changed my name with a few presses of the smartphone screen but somehow it feels disingenuous. I'm not sure I have a real point to what I've said so far except to say that I'm not sure how to identify myself anymore. Not that I've ever been too sure of that but lately I feel even less so. I find myself mentally weak. Crippled by addictive tendencies and poor impulse control. I've wasted years running the same laps on the metaphorical treadmill.

I want to revive this blog, try to post semi regularly again. I'm not sure how much of a community Tumblr has these days but I've had this account for nearly a decade and so much of who I am is embedded in this blog. So whether anyone is out there reading or not, here is my shout into the void.

Last month, in August of 2022, I bought a new camera. A Canon EOS 80D which I named Milo, a worthy upgrade to my decade old Canon Rebel T2i (aptly named Gertrude). Now I am working on learning this camera in and out and figuring out how to do new and creative things with it. For someone who has been doing photography this long, I'm pretty piss poor at it. But I'm learning and adapting and upgrading my hardware and soon I'll be trying to learn to edit. In the meantime my girlfriend has inherited Gertrude and her high school photography classes have proved to have not been a total waste as she takes some really great photos. Though I've had Gertrude for over ten years she only just yesterday took her 10,000th photo. Whereas my 80D was bought slightly used and passed 10,000 last month. I'm not sure Gertrude will ever catch up in terms of shutter count but it's always good to have a backup.

I've been in a committed relationship for nearly two years now and it is going better than any I've ever had before. I fully believe I've found the one for me and that someday I'll be calling her my wife. Sometimes I find myself wondering, though. The negative thoughts creep in.

Would she still love me if she knew the totality of who I am? Would anyone? I truly don't think so. I struggle to reconcile who I've been with who I am and who I want to be. Who I've been is most unfortunately not too different from who I am, while who I want to be is so far off it feels unattainable. Yet still I feel compelled to try. Because I'm not sure I can take another day of the mediocrity I subject myself to. I have notebooks and web pages full of ramblings just begging myself to be better than I have previously been and I continuously come up short. How much of my life will be comprised of the same pathetic plea to myself to be accountable and to be better?

There's so much I don't remember. Years of my life that I remember less than a dozen memories from. So many people I've let down by not showing up when I said I would. So many events I was supposed to be at that I instead ended up flaking on. I can't bear to think of all the people I've let down, the ones I remember and the ones I've forgotten. As I've said so many times before, I want to be more than I am. But who am I?

For now I am Ryan. AKA HipsterArcade, and tomorrow, September 12th starts my journey. Who knows who I'll be at the end of this. Still Ryan, of course. Too much hassle and paper work to change that at this point. But maybe my URL will be different. And maybe, just maybe, somewhere in my core I'll be different too.

I hope so.

[gumnut-logic]

It was late.

It had been a very long day.

A very, very long day.

Scott had been held back at the danger zone by bureaucratic nonsense and a CEO throwing a fit over a couple of Thunderbirds parking in his carpark and the resultant damage to a nearby building.

The insensitivity and self-involvement had John reining Scott in over comms. It wasn’t like he was going to hit the guy, really, no matter how satisfying it might have been. But it had been a gruelling and messy rescue digging people out of a collapsed shopping mall.

He and his brothers had been digging for hours.

Eventually he had to call it and had sent Thunderbird Two back to base.

He had intended to follow shortly after, but…obstacles.

It was just past three in the morning when One streaked into a hover above Tracy Island. The shift to vertical flight was smooth and mostly subconscious. Scott felt his ‘bird in his bones.

As he lowered her through the gap left by the pool, a dim light from the lounge told him he wasn’t the only one awake.

He had his suspicions who it might be and that only had him working through post-flight faster.

It could be Grandma, but chances were it was Virgil waiting for him to come home.

He didn’t always do this. Only after the difficult ones.

And this one had been far from easy.

Scott hurried up to the locker room and, shucking his uniform, washed the sweat and grime from his skin. It felt good to be clean, an extra step further away from the tragedy they had left behind.

He didn’t bother getting dressed other than to throw on some pyjama bottoms and an old t-shirt. he would check on his brother, possibly grab a quick bite of food and a drink, and then hit the sack.

The house was quiet as he made his way to the lounge. No doubt Grandma and Virgil combined were a force that saw the younger Tracys safe in bed. Virgil likely then turned on his partner in crime and bundled her off as well.

He was determined like that.

Sure enough, a quiet step into the lounge and he found his brother in their father’s chair.

Asleep.

Dark curls let loose from their product by a long-ago shower were a hastily combed mess on his forehead as Dad’s chair held Scott’s brother as if it were its owner. The worn upholstery cradling worn out rescue operative ever so gently.

Scott’s bare feet made little sound as he stepped across the hardwood floor. It was a warm night. The open windows let in a soft breeze off the Pacific laced with the honey scent of flowering pōhutukawa trees.

Virgil muttered and shifted in his sleep.

The sound drew Scott’s attention back to his brother. The desk lamp was the only source of light in the room beyond the starlight far above. The moon had already set and outside was almost as dark as it got, the ocean murmuring in the distance.

There was paper on the desk.

Scott didn’t use much in the way of paper himself. Most of his work was digital, often holographic and as ecologically sound as he could get it.

Virgil, however, did keep a stash of different surfaces to art on in his studio. Paper was one of them. Obviously, some had made it out tonight.

Pencil sketches covered the white sheets. Eyes, half drawn faces. Gordon popped up in one corner, a familiar smile on his face. Thunderbird One had her grapple out and was lifting something half-drawn.

He found his own face staring out of the paper. His drawn self was obviously angry and glaring at a faceless head.

Scott arched an eyebrow at the obscenity scratched into the cartridge under the non-person creature.

Virgil had obviously not been happy that Scott had been held up.

There were other words on the page amongst the drawings. Virgil doodling and possibly venting in the process. Even Scott could see the emotion drawn in graphite.

He sighed.

As if agreeing, Virgil snorted and tried to turn over in the chair, a manoeuvre that wasn’t recommended.

Scott caught his brother under his arms as he tried to slide off the leather upholstery.

He earned a grunt for his efforts. Bleary brown eyes opened and stared up at him. “Sc-t?”

“Hey.” A soft smile. “You planning on camping out tonight?”

Another grunt and his brother tried to right himself in the chair. “You took too long. Why didn’t you sic John on ‘em?”

“I did. But not until tomorrow. John needs his sleep as much as you do.”

“Yes. Yes, he does. Tol’ him.” Virgil’s eyes drifted closed again and he began to sink back into the chair.

“Oh, no you don’t. You’re going to bed, little brother.” Scott gripped Virgil a little tighter and pulled him up and out of the chair.

Various limbs pinwheeled a little and Scott ended up with his arms full of dopey brother, but he got the man on to his feet.

Virgil grumbled into his t-shirt and Scott let off a snort of a laugh. His biggest brother was hopeless when his sleep was disturbed. It was an ongoing source of prankdom – at the risk of the perpetrator’s life.

Hell, Gordon had managed to draw in a second pair of eyebrows on Virgil’s forehead once – while the man was supposedly awake and nursing his coffee.

The double-eyebrowed death monster that had resulted once enough coffee had been ingested was of legendary proportions. Grandma had literally roasted Gordon alive and a ban on markers on anyone’s faces had been instituted for all eternity.

Gordon was a multitalented artist, however, and simply switched mediums.

The honey had Scott blowing a circuit.

But dopey Virgil was a familiar and smile-inducing feature of the Tracy household.

Scott found himself grinning.

“Shuddup.”

Well, at least Virgil had managed a couple of neurons worth of thought.

Scott’s smile only got wider.

Virgil groaned and pushed his brother away and stumbled a little. “’M gonna bed.”

“You do that.” Scott had to stick out a hand and steady him as he wobbled into the side of the desk. “Need a hand?”

That triggered some incoherent grumbling that threatened bear territory. Scott couldn’t help himself and just grinned more as Virgil teetered away in the direction of the elevator.

The fact Scott had to save him from falling into the sunken lounge was probably a sign that the answer to his question was a definite ‘yes’.

A hand on his brother’s elbow prompted more grumbling, but the elbow wasn’t yanked away and by the time they made it into the elevator, Virgil had pretty much faceplanted himself into Scott’s shoulder.

The grin turned into a fond smile as he hit the button for the residential levels.

“You neeb togoto bed too.” It was muffled by the sleeve of Scott’s t-shirt.

“That’s the plan.”

“You bedda.”

Scott wrapped an arm around his brother’s shoulders. “Or what?”

More incoherent grumbling.

Scott pulled him in a little tighter as the elevator doors opened.

It was like leading a zombie down the corridor, though Scott could easily empathise. He was looking forward to his own pillow as soon as he saw Virgil to his.

A yawn escaped.

His brother looked up as if the medic had bypassed his brain and booted in safe mode. “You need sleep. Go to bed.”

He gestured towards door to Virgil’s rooms. “After you.”

Virgil frowned. “You first.”

Scott rolled his eyes and, reaching around his brother, activated the door and, with a little manoeuvring, manhandled Virgil into his rooms.

“Hey!”

His hand returned to his brother’s elbow and he marched him into his bedroom, amid protests.

“You need to look after yourself.” Virgil finger was jabbed into Scott’s breastbone.

Was it possible for a human to have one half of his brain awake and the other asleep at the same time? Apparently, some birds could do that. Gordon had gone into great detail that year they spotted some migratory waders landing on their beaches mid-transit.

In any case, Virgil obviously wasn’t all there as Scott backed him up against the end of his bed and pulled back the covers. Virgil continued to nag Scott to bed with varying levels of coherence. Smiling, Scott gave his rambling brother a gentle nudge and their gentle giant went Gulliver, flat on his back.

“Scott?!”

The eldest yanked up the covers and muffled the outraged mutterings. “Yes, Virgil?”

But his protests began to fade away and, as Scott pulled down the covers a little and tucked them in, he realised Virgil’s eyes were already drooping again.

Dopey indeed.

He brushed curls off his brother’s forehead. “Sleep, Virg.”

“Mmm, Sco’, go bed.”

Softly. “I will.”

“Mmmhm.”

Scott couldn’t help but smile a little more as Virgil drifted off.

A final touch to his brother’s hair and Scott straightened, his body creaking enough to remind him, that yes, he needed his bed as well.

He slipped quietly out of Virgil’s room and secured the door. A glance down the corridor, a thought, and he walked quietly down to check on Gordon.

The last he had seen of his fish brother had involved sad eyes and concrete dust. A quiet step into his rooms and he found Gordon as he had suspected he would.

The aquanaut was tangled in his sheets and throttling his pillow.

There was a frown on his face.

Much practised manoeuvring and he managed to straighten the Fish out and untangle him from his bedclothes.

Half asleep protests were halted by a plushie squid that awake Gordon would claim to his death never left the mantle above his bed.

Scott knew better.

His little brother quietened, falling into a deeper sleep.

After that, Scott couldn’t help but check in on Alan. It was probably a fortunate thing, because opening the door found Alan asleep in front of it.

The littlest Tracy had a history of wandering in his sleep. Scott had it checked out and it was directly related to early childhood trauma. Which one was a game of pick one.

It was managed, but occasionally it flared up. One of the most common symptoms was climbing out of bed and sleeping on the floor. Sometimes, the piece of floor chosen was a little inconvenient.

Scott was just happy the piece chosen wasn’t a balcony. Five and now Eos had been tracking Alan while he slept for years and issued alerts if he should wander too far.

Scott slipped into the room sideways and, with cracking knees, lifted his little brother off the floor.

Fortunately or unfortunately, Alan shared his sleep type with Virgil and slept like the dead. So, it was easy to move him over to his specially plush rug and snuggle him up with a pillow and quilt from his bed.

Alan muttered something about Virgil pulling him up, possibly something to do with the day’s rescue.

Scott reached out and touched Alan’s cheek.

His little brother mumbled his name and leant into his hand.

Scott blinked. The emotion that suddenly gripped him was just a sign of how tired he was.

Letting go, he pushed to his feet and slipped from the room. In the corridor, he closed his eyes and leant back against the wall for a moment.

One to go.

He tugged at the collar of his t-shirt. “Eos? You there?”

“Where else would I be?” Despite the smart-ass remark, her voice was quiet. Something she had learnt the hard way.

He ignored the comment. “John’s status?”

“John is currently in REM sleep. No signs of nightmare. Pulse regular, respiration as to be expected, body temperature 36.7 degrees Celsius. John is well, Commander.”

Scott let out a breath. “Thank you, Eos.”

“You’re welcome. Kayo and Mrs Tracy are asleep in their rooms, as is Hiram. Which is a concern, if I may say so, because he left Max on the ceiling.”

A blink. “Again?”

“It would appear so.”

Scott groaned. “Keep him out of the hangars this time.”

“I will try. But you know how he is.”

A grunt and Scott pushed himself off the wall. “I’m going to bed.”

“Good. Virgil was adamant you do exactly that.”

A frown. “Or what?”

“He said ‘or I’ll knock his ass out and drag him there myself’. His tone seemed humorous, however, John said it was a half-truth.” A pause. “Which half, I’m not sure.”

Another grunt. “Both halves, most likely.” To stave off a round of questioning at that, Scott quickly followed up with, “Tracy Island out.”

The house fell quiet after that and he let his shoulders drop, rolling his neck as he made his way to his own quarters. In his rooms lay freedom. A moment where he could just be himself, relax and sleep.

Sleep.

The door clicked shut and exhaustion caught up with him. It was a matter of steps to his bedroom, a modicum of the last of his energy to shove the covers aside, and he let himself fall face first into his pillow.

His body melted into the mattress.

It had been a shitty rescue, but his family was all home, safe, uninjured and resting.

He could let go.

So he did.

-o-o-o-

[darrowsrising]

Dark Age or Dark Age - therein lies the question!

People look at the war on Mercury and they question the morality of trying to liberate people who do not want to be liberated. That's the wrong question to draw out of what happened.

Slavery is bad regardless of how kind the slavers are. Yes, destroying slavery has the ripple effect of chaos and having people saying the old regime was better, because at least their lives were predictable and quiet. The question of the war on Mercury is actually - is it worth it? Is it worth fighting? Is it worth dying? Is it worth the sacrifices for that one hope that on the rubbles of destruction, a new better world will rise?

You think Red Rising is the first to have ensalved people siding with the slavers after decades or centuries of a system that brain-washed them into obedience? It's kind of a real life thing as well, if you haven't noticed, that inspired quite a lot of discussion, non-fictional and fictional books alike, as well as studies and papers.

What Pierce himself said he wanted to evoke with Dark Age is - can Eo's dream survive the test of time? Now, I am not trying to enforce the author's words, least of all mine own, but the idea that Darrow shouldn't try to liberate planets that 'don't want freedom', as though that is their actual choice, is bullshit.

I also understand the 'you can't help someone by force', but slavery creates such circumstances, that the necessity to destroy it overrides the chaos it causes. A majority can be wrong, a majority siding with their slavers is not exactly a choice when said slavers have a propaganda machine and other means of enforcing obedience as they did for centuries.

Before anyone wants to bring up the failures of the Republic, those were cause mostly by the enemies of the Republic who wanted it to tear itself apart. If there was no war, it could have accomplished more and better. Even so, it provided lots of good things for its citizens.

In short - please stop trying to excuse slavery, I know it's fiction, but when even fiction says its wrong, IT'S FUCKING WRONG!

[secret-engima]

....I lied. If you’re still doing the title thing - if I go down gonna burn with the sun

I thought there was a few more title asks still lurking in here for me to answer. *cracks knuckles* RAMBLE TIME.

-Star Wars AU. Star Wars FFXV sorta-x-over AU where the Astrals decide that Aera and Ardyn deserve a chance at happiness, just not on Eos, and therefore go YEET. The Force, finding these two wayward and powerful souls is like- Sure okay and boom. Ardyn and Aera are reborn in a galaxy far, far away.

-Purely not coincidentally, far away, on different worlds and in different star systems, one Satine Kryze and one Obi-Wan Kenobi take their first breaths.

-Yes I’m serious.

-This would be- SUCH a chaotic fixit AU, both because Aera loves peace but she is NO pacifist and not about to let an entire Culture DIE just because some so called New Mandalorians cannot see the dangers of burying their own past. Two because- well.

-Ardyn has already BEEN a Chosen One and an Accursed, a Hero and a Villain. He has walked the path to salvation and damnation both and seen the worst sides of himself and humanity, and for all they look different, every species in the galaxy isn’t far different from humanity in those regards.

-Obi-Wan Kenobi grows up in the Jedi Temple and he is a Troublesome Child. Too quiet and too reckless by turns, a smile that could melt butter and a tongue that can strip flesh from the backs of whatever bully goes after him this time. The Jedi ... worry. He is Dark, they whisper, was born with shreds of Darkness in his soul. He is manipulative, they worry, he has a temper, they gossip.

-Ardyn hears them all and inside a part of him screams. Because of course he is Dark, they did not have their souls swallowed by a plague for others’ sake, were not consumed with madness until dying (being freed) at the hands of a nephew two thousand years removed. As for manipulation ... he doesn’t mean to. It’s just ... he’s so much OLDER than the other children mentally, older even than any Jedi there (even YODA), he can’t help it that he thinks rings around people sometimes, or that he is so in tune with the Force (with a galaxy-spanning magic that burns beneath his skin like a hundred newborn suns that he keeps buried so the Jedi will not sense it so clearly, will not know how strong and old he really is inside) that he can practically read minds and knows what to say to get the best outcome. He has a temper. Who doesn’t? You try being reborn after a lifetime of AGONY and see how patient you are with petty morons and small minded bullies.

-He says none of those things, and when his time grows near to be sent away without a Master, he does not fight it.

-He looks at the shadow of Qui Gon Jinn in the doorway and something in the Force ... sings. Sad and soft. It speaks of heartache and betrayal and a fear of being hurt again. Ardyn can almost FEEL the two paths branching away under his feet, one with Qui Gon in it, and one without, and he does not know which one will bring him less pain.

-Ardyn does not try to impress anyone in the sparring ring, but after he is done, he slips away. He finds Jinn in the garden, trying to meditate, and settles down across from him without invitation.

-Qui Gon opens his eyes in annoyance. He knows that the Council wants him to take a Padawan, and that this one is almost at the age of being moved to the Corps. He expects the boy to beg to become a Padawan, or to try to impress him somehow.

-Instead the boy just smiles, thin and sharp and knowing in a way that makes Qui Gon feel ... exposed. Like every thought and wound in his heart is on display for this child, “The Council wants you to take a Padawan. That’s why they keep making you watch us.” It’s a statement, not a question.

-Qui Gon raises an eyebrow, “And you think I should take you?”

-The boy shrugs, but his blue eyes are still sharp as knives behind his friendly mien and Qui Gon doesn’t like the feeling crawling up his spine, “That’s your choice to make and yours alone. There’s nothing I can say to change your mind one way or the other.”

-“Then why are you here?” He asks suspiciously.

-“Because you’re lonely, and it makes the Force feel sad.” The answer is so blunt, so sure of itself. Qui Gon feels his stomach twist, and old anger makes him snappish without meaning to be (he’s heard of this boy as well, he’s heard that he’s got a manipulative streak and a tendency to twist his Force empathy to his own ends, he’s heard many things).

-(Qui Gon forgets that it is not a good idea, to base judgement on rumors) “I am not, and if I was, I would not need your company to ease it.”

-Obi-Wan Kenobi, Initiate of the Jedi Temple Ardyn Lucis Caelum, Sage and Healer King and Accursed, tilts his head thoughtfully, then nods and stands up, “Then I will take my leave. Take care of yourself, Master Jinn.”

-Initiate Kenobi Ardyn the Accursed and Healer King walks away, and a breath later the Living Force twists, like the snapping of cables, and Qui Gon gets the fleeting, distinct impression that he has failed some kind of very important test.

-Ardyn is assigned to the AgraCorps. A life as a farmer for others awaits him.

-The day before he’s to be shipped off, he walks out one of the Temple’s side-entrances and into the underbelly of Coruscant with only the clothes on his back. He doesn’t look back even once. It takes until the next day for anyone (for his friends, if he can call them friends when they are so much YOUNGER and painfully more innocent than him) to miss him. It takes another day for the Jedi to realize Obi-Wan Kenobi is well and truly missing.

-Deep in Coruscant’s seedy side, at the dockyards manned by those who are less than concerned with legality, a boy in ratty (stolen) clothes asks to be taken aboard as a maintenance worker. He calls himself Ardyn Izunia, and there are no Force Sensitives close enough to feel the sunlike fire burning in his blood as he smiles.

-Skip forward several years and Satine Kryze (Aera) is on the run from Death Watch, civil war is on the horizon and her father asks for Jedi protection to keep her safe.

-The bounty hunter who calls himself Adagium finds her first.

-A sword that glitters like blood and cuts through metal like a lightsaber (that hums-hums-hums with magic none but a Force sensitive can see blazing like bloody fire down the ancient blade) finishes off the Death Watch assassin that Satine hadn’t had the chance to shoot yet, and under his hood, Adagium smiles. Satine stills, head tilted as if listening, then she collapses into the teenage bounty hunter’s arms in joyous tears. Adagium- Ardyn- holds her close and cries with her.

- “I finally found you, My Aera,” he breathes and for a moment he lets his magic loose and it burns like the sun through the Force, lancing through the growing shadows in the Force like they’re fragile paper and somewhere far away Sidious feels Doom™ crawl violently up his spine.

-Aka that Fixit AU where Aera is a Mand’alor that DOES want peace for her people but NOT at the cost of burning history to the ground (or being defenseless, she has died to the sword once already she will not go quietly into the night a second time, not if she has to paint the walls in blood to protect her life and the lives of her people), the Jedi are Confused™, and Ardyn is incredibly content to be Aera’s former bounty hunter trophy husband with a tendency to adopt strays (read: Anakin and Shmi who he frees as well as Anakin kthanks, and quite possibly Savage and Feral too tho no one is quite sure how) until the Clone Wars start and Ardyn takes one (1) look at the war and goes: ah. I know this plan. This is a stupid plan. And all of Sidious’s plans go fwoosh.

-Because I’m sorry but there is no way you can convince me that Ardyn wouldn’t EAT SIDIOUS ALIVE in any kind of fight, mental, physical, Force, or tactical. This man is 2k years old. It took Sidious until he was an old sack of bones to get his Empire and that was with GENERATIONS of Sith serving as his foundation, and then he got yote down a reactor shaft by his minion 19-25 years later. Ardyn was able to manipulate an entire Empire into engineering its destruction and fulfill ALL HIS REVENGE GOALS (giving Bahamut a headache, driving the world to darkness and ruin, and ending the line of Lucis Caelum INCLUDING HIMSELF) in like- 30-40 years. While MENTALLY AND PHYSICALLY ILL thanks to the Scourge. Fully healthy and in control of himself and with people (Aera) to protect? Sidious would just be fresh meat.

-Also Ardyn adopts a bunch of the clones, possibly all the clones, on the excuse that since they were raised by Mandalorian trainers they count as Mandalorians and as genetic sons of Jango Fett that makes the Mandalorian CITIZENS by BIRTHRIGHT and the Republic can only watch in confusion as their army gets mass adopted by the Mand’alor’s trophy husband who also exposed their new Chancellor as a Sith. Bail Organa, the new Chancellor, may or may not be sweating quietly at the thought of accidentally gaining the ire of the so called Trophy Husband because he’s smarter than most and knows that Ardyn is Very Very Dangerous.

-Also also Qui Gon doesn’t die somehow because I do really like him and I think he’s a good Jedi, just not a good fit for Ardyn as a master.

[trueromantic1]

The Myth of Me and You Is Fiction Turned To Truth

Summary: After the events of both seasons (SVU 22x16 and OC 1x08), Olivia and Elliot find themselves in the unique position of knowing where there love story will end up, but having no idea what exactly will transpire to get them there. One thing they do know? Their love can only grow deeper, and that they’re bound to enjoy the journey.

Author’s Note: For the purposes of this story, SVU 22x16 ended on May 28 (canon) and OC 1x08 ended on June 4 (not canon). This picks up on June 7.

Title comes from Great Ones by Maren Morris. It’s definitely an EO song.

Rating: M, possibly Explicit eventually

ff.net: here

AO3: here

Her phone beeped, drawing her distracted gaze away from the paperwork in front of her. Seeing the text message notification lighting up the screen, Olivia took off her glasses and put her pen down, picked up the phone, and leaned back in her chair with a sigh as she unlocked it.

Can I buy you dinner? There’s news.

She frowned, trying to tell his mood from those few words. Realizing it would be impossible, she glanced out at the nearly empty squad room before hitting the call button instead.

“You didn’t have to call. I know you’re at work still Liv.” Judging by the voices she could hear in the background, he was still at work as well. She knew they’d been dealing with the lawyers and IAB ever since Morales turned out to be a mole and decided suicide by cop was the best way out.

“It’s fine El. I needed a break from the paperwork for a minute anyway. The one thing they never prepare you for is just how much paperwork you do when you’re in charge of a squad. So, what’s going on?”

He chuckled, and she could hear the creak as he leaned back in his own chair. “That’s what dinner is supposed to be for Liv. If I tell you now, what would be the point of dinner?”

She smiled, recognizing his tone as the slightly flirty one she’d been hearing more of ever since what was supposed to be Fin’s wedding. Neither one of them was ready to jump into a relationship, but they’d come to a silent understanding that night by the water. “I don’t know Elliot. We’ve never needed a reason for dinner before. Why don’t you just tell me the news now, and then you can come over to my place later and we’ll get Chinese. Noah’s taking advantage of it being summer vacation and is at a sleepover so his friend’s mom can take them to an early show of a ballet she worked on costumes for. Apparently, they allow friends and family to come for free on Tuesdays, but it’s normally during the school day.”

“Oh, I bet he’s excited. Sleepover during the week and going to a professional ballet performance?”

“Yes, he’s thrilled. It’s all he talked about all weekend. Now quit stalling Elliot. What’s going on?”

“I never could get one by you, could I? Okay. Well, Angela Wheatley woke up earlier today, and is expected to make a full recovery. Bell and Washburn went over to the hospital once they cleared her for visitors. And we’re finally supposed to be done dealing with IAB and the lawyers over this. We still have to wait for IAB’s official report, but I got the feeling none of us were going to get in trouble for what happened. They told Bell they’d already spoken to you as well, so you should be done with them for now too. And then on a more personal note, you remember I told you I was looking at apartments in the city? At Fin’s not-wedding and then that I had some more appointments the rest of that weekend? Well, I found one, and I went down and signed the lease today during lunch.”

“El, I’m glad things are working out with the case, and that IAB will be out of all of our hair. It’s still bothering me what exactly Richard Wheatley was planning with that fake text sending me to the hospital. But I guess we won’t know unless he decided to tell us. But way to bury the lead! El, that’s great! I can’t believe you found a place in just a week. You didn’t just settle for something did you? You need a good place for you and Eli to make a home.” She knew he’d been anxious about getting out of the one bedroom short-term he’d rented after Kathy’s death, so she hoped he’d taken his time to find something he really liked.

“It’s nice, knowing you worry about us. And thanks. Don’t worry, it’s actually a great place. Rent’s a little higher than I’d planned, but I can make it work. It’s about halfway between here and the one six actually. About two blocks from the school Eli will be going to, assuming they’re back to in person by then. And it’s a three bedroom two and a half bath, which I figure will come in handy if any of the kids decide to visit and don’t want to drive home ever. And it’s near a park, in case anyone else wanted to visit. I take possession this Sunday, and Bell gave me Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday off so I can get some stuff moved in. I’ve got some furniture scheduled for delivery on Monday.” The calm she’d been hearing more and more in the last few weeks shone through, which she knew was at least in part because he’d finally started talking to someone. But she thought a lot of it had to do with settling back into the city, since he’d confided that as much as they’d been happy in Italy, the energy had just never been exactly right to him.

“I’ll always worry El, you know that. I’m glad though. Now you and Eli have all summer to get settled in. Hopefully he’ll meet some of his future classmates, so he won’t fell so new when school starts back up. And you know, it just so happens, I might know someone who could come help you get things set up. You know, if you were interested.” She made sure to infuse her voice with a hint of suggestion, upping the playful flirting they’d been indulging in just a bit. She mentally patted herself on the back when she heard the hitch in his breath followed him clearing his throat. His next words, voice lowered and with a hint of a growl, proved he hadn’t lost a step either, as she felt herself flush with arousal and a corresponding dampness between her thighs that she was fast becoming reacquainted with that caused her to cross her legs and shift in her seat to try to alleviate the pressure.

“Is that so? Well, far be it from me to turn down someone willing to work up a sweat with me. Why don’t we discuss it more over dinner? I should be able to be to your place by 7, if that works for you.”

She checked the time, then the stack of papers she needed to finish, then glanced into the squad room. Seeing her people were now at their desks, folders open in front of them, she quickly calculated it’d be at least another hour before she could even think of leaving, especially if she planned to take three days off next week. “Make it 8?”

“8 it is. Want me to pick up our usual on my way over, or are we having it delivered?”

“Hmm, better pick it up. You know how busy they get. If you call it in when you leave, it’ll probably be just about ready by the time you get there.”

“Sound good. I’ll let you go so you can finish up all that paperwork. See you in a few hours Liv.”

“Alright. Bye El.” Hanging up, she pressed the phone against her chest a moment, savoring the warm feeling she always seemed to get when she talked to Elliot these days, before standing up and walking out into the squad room.

“Anything you guys haven’t finished by 7, you can leave until tomorrow. Short of a new case, you can all clock out then, since we’re currently between cases.” She turned to head back to her office and the stack of paperwork, but turned back around when Amanda spoke.

“Are you clocking out then too Cap? I know Noah’s at that sleepover. You shouldn’t stay late finishing paperwork anymore if we aren’t.” Her detective’s voice was concerned, and she realized just how much her stress and worry over the last three months must have shown, despite how hard she tried to hide it.

“Yes, he’s already called me to say goodnight, because apparently they will be too busy the rest of the night with sleepover stuff to worry about me. But don’t worry, I’m clocking out then too. Even if that pile of paperwork is only going to grow when you all turn in your paperwork.” She turned again, hoping to make it into her office before anyone thought too hard about her clocking out when she didn’t have to, but Fin’s teasing voice told her she was too late.

“You? Clock out early when you don’t have Noah waiting at home? What’s up? You got yourself a hot date or something?”

She was a Captain. Had been a police officer for over twenty years. She’d had to keep her cool when being questioned on the stand by lawyers all the time. But she knew, she knew, that she couldn’t hide the hitch in her step or the slight wince as he asked his question. Even as she turned back around, her face carefully blank, she knew he’d caught her. “Date? No, I don’t have a date. Who would I even have a date with?” Internally, she winced again as she heard a voice that sounded suspiciously like Elliot Stabler tell her that asking that many questions just made her sound defensive, and therefore all the more suspicious. Registering the varying degrees of shock on the three’s faces, she smirked to herself for surprising them at least.

“Oh, I don’t know. A certain Detective, maybe? I saw you two together at the ceremony, off in your own little world by the water. Almost like old times, ‘cept the flirting was a little too obvious.”

Trying to control the embarrassed flush she could feel, she internally cursed. She’d hoped everyone had been too preoccupied to pay attention to her and Elliot, but knew that had probably been too much to hope for. She knew the rumor mill had picked right back up when he’d returned, and people realized they were talking again. “Alright, yes, I’m meeting Elliot for dinner. But it’s not a date. We’re just going to do some catching up over Chinese. We haven’t really had much time to just talk since he came back.” She ignored the pointed look he shot her, and appreciated that Amanda and Kat at least pretended not to be interested, as she finally made it back into her office. She heard his footsteps though, saw him shut the door behind him as she sat down behind her desk.

“You sure about this? I just don’t want you getting hurt. Don’t forget, I was here when he left.” She could see the worry clouding his face, and resigned to give him the truth. After all, he’d been there for it all.

“I’m sure. We’re…Taking things slow. We’ve talked, and while neither one of us is ready to just jump straight into a relationship, we’ve discussed it, and have agreed that’s where we’re heading. So we flirt some, and we spend time together, and we talk. We’re not defining it yet. I know it sounds like dating, and maybe in a way it is. But what’s important to us is rekindling our friendship, first and foremost. We’ve already talked about why he left, how he left. And I’ve told him not only what it did to me, but I’ve told him what he missed. He was…Devastated. It turns out the whole family was in France at the time, and by the time the kids came back, it had already become old news. He swore he would have come back had he known, and I believe him. I’d always wondered if he’d just stopped caring, but if you’d seen how he looked, you’d have had to believe him too. So yes, I’m sure about this. We’re going to take things slow for now, but we know where we’re going to end up, even if we aren’t sure when that will happen. Speaking of Elliot though, I’m going to take a few personal days next week to help him get moved into his new place. He gets the keys on Sunday, and his furniture comes Monday.”

He still looked a little worried, but she could tell he would take her at her word. “If you say so. I have to say, I’m surprised you guys already talked about that. But I’m glad. You deserve to be happy Liv, and I think he’ll make you happy. And don’t worry, I’ll cover next week for you. And I’ll let the others know you’ll be taking some time, and make sure they don’t ask you any questions.” He turned and left the office, leaving the door open behind him as he went back to his desk, stopping to talk to Amanda and Kat on his way.

Putting her glasses on and picking up her pen, she smiled to herself as she went back to her paperwork. She still had a lot to work through before it was time to head out, though she was hoping the anticipation would make the time pass faster. Afterall, it wasn’t every day she got to head home to a hot meal and an even hotter man, not that she’d tell him that. His ego was already inflated enough.

[carewyncromwell]

“And at last I see the light! And it's like the fog has lifted... And at last I see the light, And it's like the sky is new! And it's warm and real and bright, And the world has somehow shifted... All at once everything is different Now that I see you...”

~ “I See the Light (cover),” by Elsie Lovelock and Kestin Howard

x~x~x~x

It’s interesting how, even when two parties know they have something special, it can still take a while before they find the right words to express how they feel and what they want. Even when Orion Amari and Carewyn Cromwell had each come to grips with their romantic feelings, it didn’t really change how many obstacles would be in the way of them living a traditional “happily-ever-after” with wedding bells and a little house of their own. Although yes, Orion felt deeply for Carewyn, as she did him, they both also greatly valued their own independence and autonomy. Carewyn and Orion didn’t even live in the same country anymore, one residing in England and the other Scotland, and their respective careers -- one at the London-based Ministry of Magic, the other for the Montrose Magpies Quidditch team -- would make it close to impossible for them to move. Merging households would be a nightmare under such circumstances...and yet, at the same time, neither Orion nor Carewyn was comfortable giving only part of their heart away. They both knew that the subject of their affection deserved everything and more from whatever partner they chose -- they just had no idea if they could be that “everything” for them, even if they wanted to.

That all changed, though, one day in December 1999, a year after the Second Wizarding War ended.

Carewyn’s feelings for Orion had not gone unnoticed by her closest friends. The lawyer’s unofficial twin and fellow “Fireball” Charlie Weasley had been almost affronted when he caught wind that Carewyn had let Orion stay the night on the futon in her living room without having made plans ahead of time -- Carewyn was a planner first and foremost and she never let Charlie crash at her place without giving her fair warning. Charlie vented his disbelief to Ben Copper and his wife Wendy @drinkyoursoupbitch, and they were both pretty shocked too. Wendy ended up following up with Carewyn later that week when she stopped by Carewyn’s office one evening for some coffee.

“On your futon, huh?” she said, her blue eyebrows raised and her lips spread into a playful smile.

Carewyn rolled her eyes up toward the skylight in her ceiling, her red lips turned up in a smile. "Charlie's that jealous about it?"

Her smile faded as she turned her focus toward her paperwork rather than look at Wendy. She wasn’t uncomfortable, of course -- she just had a lot of work to do that night before getting back home and starting dinner for herself and Erik, that was all.

“ ...Orion had had a late night, and he'd have to be back in London early the next morning. It'd be cruel to force him to go home and then lug himself and Eos out of bed so early, just to get back where he already was..."

Wendy's eyes twinkled knowingly. "Oh, of course. But still...is there something there?"

Carewyn kept her focus on the files she was sorting through, her blue eyes narrowing ever-so-slightly as she siphoned through them.

"I suppose it depends on what ‘something’ you're referring to,” she said after a moment. “If you're referring to a romantic relationship, then no, there is not." 

Was that a touch of melancholy in her eyes? Surely not. 

Wendy studied the other woman over the rim of her coffee cup as she took a long sip.

"I mean, Carey," she tapped the porcelain, considering her words carefully. Her tone shifted to a gentle sincerity, "is there an attraction there for you?"

Carewyn stopped rifling through her papers. She paused, before slowly closing her eyes and exhaling through her nose in a heavy sigh.

"...Of course there is," she admitted very softly. "I've always been fond of Orion -- I liked him pretty much immediately, and I respected him all the more, as the years went on. All I wonder is when that fondness...grew to the point that it had to plant roots. And what to do about it, now that it has..."

Wendy smiled fondly. "Well, I suppose the big question is, do you want to do anything? I mean...if you were looking for a tofu-eating Quidditch player to pine over, you certainly picked the best one."

Carewyn rested her head in her hand on her desk, her eyes falling onto the wood instead of looking up at her friend. "That's just it, Wendy, I...I do want to do something. I don't want to have to bottle this up -- I want to protect him, to take care of him and Eos, to...love him with everything I am. But..."

Her gaze moved up to the skylight too, her blue eyes deepening with more of that odd melancholy.

"...At school...when I dated Andre...I didn't know myself like I do now. I probably would've accepted a marriage, and a family, and frequent sex, at that time, not knowing any different. But now that I do know myself...know that I don't want that happy ending attached to most romances...how do I pursue a romantic relationship? How do I ask someone to date a woman who wouldn't give up her job and life for him...no matter how deep my feelings are?"

She closed her eyes, visibly hurting at this thought.

"Especially when...he's already been hurt before...when he's already had partners who tried to force him to give up everything, to please them?"

Carewyn bowed her head.

"...How can I love him the way he deserves, when I'm so selfish?"

Wendy considered her answer, her eyes drifting up to the skylight in Carewyn’s ceiling that reflected the London sky miles above them.

“They say that sacrifice is a foundation of love, and it’s true,” she said slowly, “but...sacrifice between two people who love each other is a two-way street. I love my work — you know I do. Ben knows how much I love it. But if he ever asked me to give up,” she gestured broadly, “everything...I’d do it. I wouldn’t want to, and Merlin, it would hurt like…well, more than anything in the world! But I’d do it. And…I know in my bones he would do the same for me. Hell, he’s almost died for me a few times...”

The old memories made her pause, closing her eyes briefly to try to block them out.

“Thing is…he doesn’t ask for that. He…won’t ask for it.”

Wendy looked back down at Carewyn seriously.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is...sometimes loving someone -- not just being in love, but really loving them -- means that you know you could ask them to move heaven and earth for you and they’d do it, no matter how much it’d hurt...but you won’t ask that. It’s good that you’re thinking about this now, of course -- but you don’t have to have it all figured out just yet. If you want this...don’t be afraid to let Orion in. Let him see everything you have, and everything you fear, and let him decide. Maybe he wouldn’t want you to give up everything you’ve built here for him. Maybe he would. Maybe he’d want you to meet him halfway, somehow. But…let him make that choice to love you, whatever it might look like. You’ll never know if it’s meant to be if you don’t ever ask if it could be.”

Although Carewyn didn't look Wendy in the face nearly at all as she spoke, it clearly was because she was taking in what she said and thinking hard, not because she wasn't listening. When Wendy was finished, Carewyn brought a hand up to brush her bangs out of her face, her hand sliding past her right eye as it went. Then, with a swallow, she forced herself to look Wendy in the face at last, even though her eyes were still full of so much emotion.

"...Thank you, Wendy.”

The lawyer couldn't keep eye contact very long. Soon her eyes once again almost of their own accord drifted off to the corner just over Wendy's shoulder.

"I suppose...I always have had a bad tendency, to put the bar too high for myself. Orion's never expected perfection from me, however much I expect it from myself..."

Her eyes softened noticeably.

"He’s always been happy with what he has, even while he’s reaching for something better. But I know he appreciates the work and time I put in, too...how much I care. Even when I care too much, and 'flare up like a Fire Crab.'”

She brought a hand up to try to hold in her giggling.

Wendy’s lips spread into a mischievous grin. “Hey, at least he doesn’t compare your temperament and coloring to a Billywig. But I guess it’s his way of getting back at me for calling him the Tofu King -- ”

In that moment, Ben Copper had abruptly run down the hall, skidding to a halt in the door frame of Carewyn’s office.

“Carey,” he said urgently, his face very white and grave, “the Aurors have just been sent to your street.”

Carewyn and Wendy both shot to their feet in alarm.

“What!?”

As the prosecutor for nearly all of the cases involving ex-Death Eaters, Carewyn had received a lot of recognition and praise, but she’d understandably also gotten a few anonymous death threats from people who had Death Eater sympathies. She wasn’t the only one -- quite a few other prominent members of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement like Talbott and the newly hired Harry Potter got them too. This day in particular, however, a swarm of dementors -- newly banned from Azkaban by Minister Shacklebolt, in part due to their association with Lord Voldemort during the War -- had been set loose in several areas of London that contained the homes of prominent Ministry employees...including Carewyn’s. Naturally Carewyn herself was not home yet -- but her ward Erik had just returned from Hogwarts for winter break in the midst of his first year, and he as a latch-key kid was at their flat  completely alone until Carewyn got off work. 

Carewyn immediately dropped everything and rushed home as quickly as she could, Ben and Wendy in tow. When she arrived on her street corner, she found the neighborhood in chaos. The entire street was blanketed by unnatural, heavy black fog, as if it was being suffocated by a blanket made of mist and tar. Muggles were running blindly in all directions since they couldn’t see the dementors, while the Aurors who could cast Patronuses shot them at every part of the darkness they could reach. Ben, Wendy, and Carewyn immediately all cast theirs, and their dun stallion, unicorn, and Abraxan winged horse charged into the fray to help the Aurors’ other pearly white creatures in their fight. Carewyn herself was determined to find Erik and raced in the direction of her flat. As she and the Coppers drew close, however, they were startled by what they saw.

Carewyn’s Abraxan Patronus had charged to the front, flapping its wide wings in an attempt to break up the suffocating darkness. As it did so, another bright white Patronus soared through the air toward hers, gliding through the air with incredible grace and helping it beat the dementors back.

It was another Abraxan winged horse.

The second graceful Abraxan Patronus’s wings seemed to brush lightly over the wings of Carewyn’s before flying back in the direction it’d come from. Her eyes very wide, Carewyn raced after it, her own Patronus flying over her as she went. The second Abraxan Patronus ended up landing a short ways away, its wings spread protectively over two people knelt down on the ground -- a small almost-thirteen-year-old boy with curly blond hair and tears streaming down his pale face, and the Patronus’s caster, an olive-skinned man with an uneven haircut, a beard, and black eyes, dressed in harem pants, arm warmers, and loose-fitting robes.

It was Orion. And although Carewyn halted mid-step several feet away, her breath stilling in her throat, her Patronus flew down to meet Orion’s, the two Abraxans’ noses touching when they met.

Orion had known for years that his and Carewyn’s Patronuses were the same. The knowledge had surprised him, but he’d managed to keep his emotions in check at the time. Carewyn, however, didn’t do as well in containing hers -- her hands flew up to her mouth to try to suppress the choke that left her throat and although she didn’t cry, her eyes flooded with tears.

Her Patronus disappeared in a puff of white smoke as she barrelled over to them, collapsing onto her knees so she could pull Erik into her arms and hug him tightly, her face white with terror.

“Erik! Erik, thank Merlin -- ”

Erik was very pale and shaking in her arms, but he had trouble looking her in the face. His jaw was clenched hard as he clutched at Carewyn’s sleeve. Ben and Wendy rushed over too, looking just as harried.

“Erik -- kid, you okay?” asked Wendy.

Ben glanced from Erik in Carewyn’s arms to up at Orion and his Abraxan Patronus hovering over them, his brown eyes slightly narrowed. Orion’s face was just as solemn.

“I was in the area when I felt the dementors’ presence,” he explained. “I found him out here, shooting Lumos charms and Knockback Jinxes at the dementors to try to drive them away...it’s possible he may have come out to help, knowing Muggles can’t see them...”

Carewyn cradled Erik in her arms, her hands resting on his back and the back of his head protectively as she squeezed him tight and gently stroked his hair.

Leaving Erik at home alone was never an arrangement she’d liked, but he was old enough to be there at her flat without supervision, as long as he stayed inside and didn’t let anyone in. But clearly the protective enchantments she’d placed weren’t strong enough to prevent the dementors’ draining influence from creeping inside...and once Erik felt that, it was unsurprising to Carewyn that he’d wanted to do something about it. His history in dementor captivity when he was rounded up by Umbridge’s Muggle-Born Registration Commission was explanation enough.

She hadn’t done enough. She hadn’t thought that anyone would go so far as to threaten her son ward, while she wasn’t there to protect him...

Carewyn swallowed the huge, painful lump that had formed in her throat, closing her eyes tight to try to force back her tears. She had to show a brave face for Erik: he was scared enough as it was.

The image of Orion’s and her Patronuses touching noses rippled over her mind. The memory of their light, equally bright and perfectly matched, seemed to weaken the grip of the fear strangling her heart.

His Patronus was the same as hers. His soul...was the same as hers...protecting Erik when she hadn’t been there...flying to the side of hers, when it was most needed...

The memory filled her up with such courage and warmth that Carewyn thought she’d likely never struggle for ammunition to create another Patronus again.

“Erik...we need to get you inside,” the lawyer said at last, her voice coming out as a low, steadier whisper than before. “Some chocolate will help.”

Ben brought a hand onto Carewyn’s shoulder and squeezed it. “We’ll take care of things out here with the Aurors, Carey. You stay with Erik.”

Wendy glanced at Orion.

“Orion, maybe you should go with them with your Patronus...clear them a way back home, you know.”

Although her eyes and face were serious, the way her eyes flickered between Carewyn and Orion spoke volumes. Orion, his head bowing almost self-consciously, nodded. He tentatively brought an arm around Carewyn’s shoulders, his black eyes trailing over her face to down at Erik.

“Erik,” he said softly, “can you stand, little Jarvey?”

Although he wasn’t able to speak, Erik clutched onto Carewyn and Orion’s arms and used the grip to hoist himself up onto his feet. Sensing that he was still too weak and disoriented to walk on his own, Orion quickly swooped in and snaked one of his strong arms around the boy to hold him up.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured. Carewyn moved to Erik’s other side and wrapped her own arm around Erik too, so that both she and Orion were supporting him. “...We’ve got you...”

Orion’s eyes met Carewyn’s over Erik’s head. The light from his Patronus reflected in their depths, making them resemble two tiny night skies flecked with stars. A perfect match for Carewyn’s, the color of which could be compared to a cloudless blue daytime sky.

((OOC: Thanks to @drinkyoursoupbitch for roleplaying that first scenario between Wendy and Carewyn with me so many months ago!! I’m so delighted I finally got to include it in this! 💙))

[reikhafaara]

day 7 - speculate

Day 7 - Speculate

Tags: Past Emet-Selch/Azem, Implied G’raha/WoL, Theo, absolutely made up Sharlyan science about souls and the Lifestream

"And what do you think you're doing here."

Theo opens their eyes, smile already on their face, to see the ocean. Shimmery blue and black, fish flitting nearby. They laugh.

"Here? Really? Did you like the ocean that much?" Theo says. They turn. Emet-Selch stands before them, arms crossed, face severe, and Theo has to smash the urge within them to run to the man.

It worked. Of course, they speculated that it would--their calculations are rarely wrong, and they had the help of G'raha, reluctant though he had been--but to see the fruits of their labors, well. There was a rush to it, to be sure.

Judging by the severe look in Emet-Selch's eyes, he's less than amused by Theo's presence. They shake their head as they step closer to the man.

"I'm not dead or anything, so don't worry about that," Theo says. Emet-Selch flinches, but his posture relaxes anyway. "I just wanted to try something out."

"You are a reckless fool," Emet-Selch says; yet there's no hesitation when Theo slips up to him and reaches for his hand, lacing surprisingly solid fingers together. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Theo bites the inside of their lip. _I kind of missed you_ is what they'd like to say, but then they'd really sound like a fool. Missing the man who tried to kill you and your friends to usher in the end of your world cannot possibly be healthy, no matter what you may have been in a past life.

"I wanted to thank you for your help," Theo says instead. When Emet-Selch had reached between worlds to pry Theo and their friends from the grips of that dark abyss, Theo had been filled with more than a few complicated feelings, the strongest being a desire to actually thank the man for his intervention.

Emet-Selch laughs. He shakes his head, but there's genuine amusement in his face, even if he's doing his best to remain impassive. "What a trite reason to cross into the Lifestream."

"I don't think so," Theo says with a shrug. They inch closer, their chest mere inches from Emet-Selch's.

Is he in this body because it's the one Theo knows best? They're not sure what else to conjure up--Hades had been a strange creature born of desperation, and Solus is nothing more than a vessel, but Theo doesn't know what Hades actually looked like, back in their previous lives, to come up with anything else. And this place is likely a reflection of their thoughts as much as it is Emet-Selch's; at least, in theory.

"I've started remembering," Theo says, when the silence has stretched on too long. "Nothing concrete. Little fragments. A taste or a smell will suddenly come to me while I eat, and I think, 'Oh, this is familiar.'"

Emet-Selch glances down at their face. "It's not enough."

"Oh, please," Theo says, rolling their eyes. "Be happy that I've even managed that much, with how busy I've been lately. Which is your fault as well, mind."

Theo reaches up and rests their hands on Emet-Selch's chest, then slides them up to his shoulders, exploratory and curious. How can they touch here? Is it because their brain perceives the contact and simulates the sensation? Can they really share physical contact, here in the space between life and death?

...eo...

Theo curses under their breath. Emet-Selch reaches up, resting his hands over theirs. "Your friends can hardly go a moment without you."

"So it seems," Theo says, absently. They sigh. "This is a risky maneuver and G'raha was quite insistent I only try it for a brief period of time."

Well, to give him credit, G'raha had insisted Theo not try it at all; but they were not one to be swayed from a scientific pursuit so easily, especially not when there was an important goal on the other end, and after much cajoling they had convinced their Sharlyan friend to aid in the plan.

"Why did you come here," Emet-Selch asks again.

Theo can feel themselves fading, slowly. Their aetherial signature being pulled back into the land of the living. They reach up and cup Emet-Selch's face, and he stares at them, unmoving yet uncertain.

"Because I wanted to," Theo says, then: "And, truly, just to thank you. And to say I'm sorry."

Emet-Selch frowns, and Theo shakes their head, leaning the slight distance needed to plant a chaste kiss on the man's mouth. "See you on the other side some day?"

Emet-Selch scoffs. Whether or not he will enter the cycle of the planet and begin the life and death and rebirth journey that all souls pass through is still to be determined, no doubt. Does he even have control over the matter, Theo wonders. Perhaps that's a hypothesis that can be put to the test.

"Perhaps," he says, and then the ocean fades around Theo and they find themselves blinking back into reality on their bed in the Rising Stones, G'raha hovering over them with open concern twisting his face.

"You're back!" G'raha says, pulling Theo upright into his arms. "Thank the twelve."

Theo groans. Their head pounds uncomfortably and there's a tingling numbness settled over their limbs, a bit like the out of body experience they'd had in Castrum Abania, when that crazed scientist had knocked their consciousness loose. A grotesque feeling, to be sure, but definitely not life threatening.

Theo reaches up and pats G'raha on the chest, offering him a confident smile-grimace. "Oh I'm fine," they say, grumbling in discomfort as G'raha's fussing jostles them a bit more than their throbbing head can stand. "A headache and some numbness, but nothing that will kill me."

G'raha clicks his tongue, clearly distrustful of Theo's own self-assessment. But he cannot hide the curiosity in his face, either, as he helps Theo sit on the end of the bed and then takes his place on the mattress across from him.

"So... did it work?" G'raha says, eyes wide and tail flicking at his side. "Did you manage to go into the Lifestream? To find him?"

Theo nods. "Yes, actually. I am not entirely sure if I conjured him or if he humored me and intervened, but I did manage to find him."

G'raha's ears stand to attention. "Well! What was it like? What did you see?"

Leave it to another Sharlyan scholar to leap from genuine concern to single-minded interest in the matter of seconds, Theo thought, and while G'raha's questions were, of course, good ones in the course of scholarly pursuit, they were unwelcome ones with the throbbing headache.

"How about this," Theo says, taking G'raha's hand and patting it amiably. "Heal this splitting headache and we can take all of the notes that you'd like."

G'raha nearly trips in his efforts to leap to his feet and place his hands on Theo's shoulders, white magic already glowing faintly around his hands. Were it not for Theo reaching up to steady him, their hands slipping around his waist, they suspect he would have tipped over onto them entirely.

It provides a convenient excuse, at least, to lean their head against G'raha's stomach as he gently rests his hands upon their head, soothing magic courses through their veins to lessen the lingering sensation of discomfort. It's comforting, feeling him close like this. Solid and warm, smelling faintly of herbs and ink and old paper.

Between the events of the first, still so fresh in Theo's mind, and their conversation with Emet-Selch, it's a relief to feel G'raha here and alive at their side. They savor his touch for a lingering moment, past when the pain in their head has subsided and G'raha's magic has slid off of their skin like water, before they finally pull away with a grin.

"Now then," Theo says, clearing their throat as they get to their feet. "Shall we document our findings?"