#I love the choice to make Zahra a little mean | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

alicealder-arc · 2 years

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mini-playlist task !

no graphics bc im too sexy! and i didn’t proofread this bc we die like men! (and also bc im so sleepy) ft. @zahrajackson @ofwannabees @caseyfm

ALICE + ZAHRA

“Disarm” by The Smashing Pumpkins

“I used to be a little boy / So old in my shoes / And what I choose is my choice / What’s a boy supposed to do? / The killer in me is the killer in you / Send this smile over to you.”

August 21st, 2021!May had this to say when referencing that quote and it remains true... only July 27th, 2022!May knows more now... but for some #nostalgia, and to make sure I don’t repeat myself, let’s copy paste!:

I’m really excited about Alice and The Bitch, mainly because they’ve known each other for so long, I think they have more in common than Alice consciously realizes. They were both so impacted by Lux but, even more so, probably by each other! Just because Alice had some romance going on with Lux doesn’t mean her relationship with The Bitch was any less important (just not as covered due to the plot revolving around Lux). While The Bitch may have hints of Choleric where Alice has hints of Melancholic (I’m not sure if The Bitch’s mun added Sanguine in there, but I’m just forcing it under the umbrella right now since it seems they were both extraverted LOL), thus forcing differences in there, I think since they were in each other's' lives for so long, part of the reason Alice also pushed The Bitch away -- even though she was actually trying to stay in -- was because she saw shades of herself. For all of their differences, that was all she needed.

“Lapse” by Envy On The Coast

“I know you know how it feels to make a clean break / My bones are you bones / My home is your home / You must be so confused / Got scared and ran away from you / Oh sweet divine predicament / I can’t hide, I can’t change the evident / Predispose to trust a photograph / To portray the way you used to laugh.”

Okay. 2022!May needs to write now.

So I want to go over the trouble with loving and leaving more with the next song, but I think this is good as, like... a transition. A good song to showcase the transition from where they were as children -- before they were Gone Girl assigned cool girls with Lux, before Zahra took on her hard personality, before Alice fell from grace. Alice and Zahra were with each other throughout so many of their hardships and traumas, watching as they could only use pictures to reference previously instilled happiness. But with everything up in the air, all it took to snap was one hardship the other wasn’t around for. That, and a big change. Running away. (Another reason I chose this song? It has some of the reasoning behind Alice’s distancing -- I mean, it’s literally called ‘lapse’! But that was just a minute and convenient detail.)

“Mr. Blue” by Catherine Feeny

“Mr. Blue / I told you that I love you / Please believe me. / ... / I know that you’re tired / I know that you’re sore and sick and sad for some reason / So I’ll leave you with a smile / Kiss you on the cheek / And you will call it treason.”

HERE IS THE FACT OF THE MATTER: Alice doesn’t know how to let go of Zahra. All those years together, where does all the love go? It doesn’t disappear -- it’s that old adage: the absence of love isn’t hate, it’s indifference. And she can’t bring herself to become indifferent. She would rather keep up the fight with Zahra than lose her entirely. And there have been so many breakthroughs, awful moments that proved the love was still there on Zahra’s end, too. But everything reverts: they love, they leave, they ‘hate.’ What’s the point of showing so much care? What’s the point of keeping up the hateful charade? Will loneliness ever trump ego and pride the way it’s meant to? How long can they go on, pretending not to care at best?

-----

ALICE + KITTY

“Love, Hate, Love” by Alice In Chains

“I want to peel the skin from your face / Before the real you lays to waste.”

I really like this one because I think it fits the vibe just… perfectly. Looking at the surface, it’s so violent (like… bro! yikes!), and it’s been established that their relationship is incredibly volatile. But then the deeper meaning actually basically being ‘I know who you really are, I want everyone to see who you really are’? Like, Alice knows that there’s some kind of weakness about The Wannabe. That is her label for a reason. And she knows because she used to be Lux’s little pet too! Granted, not to the same degree, but… Anyway, it does make the fact that she doesn’t know The Wannabe (and The Thespian) are actually the ones who sent the message kind of funny, though.

(omg tbt to the thespian............)

“Come On Then” by Lily Allen

“I try to keep an open mind / I feel like I’m under attack all of the time / I’m compromised / My head can’t always hold itself so high.”

Ok. Take it away 2022!May!

I don’t have... the mental energy... to explicate a pretty on-the-nose lyric here... and this is ‘due’ tomorrow and besties if I started this all just to not finish it!!! :carl_gun:!!! But... you know.... the girlies are FIGHTING. One day. When we thread together. Absolutely hilarious that she’s in Mac and Alice’s apartment all the time. Imagine there is a lot of ‘do it (be cordial) for Mac’ going on.

“Stars” by Janis Ian (as covered by Nina Simone)

“Some people make it when they’re young / Before the world has done its dirty job / And later on someone will say: / ‘You’ve had your day / Now you must make way.’ / Don’t they always?”

“Cool, smart girl and Lux’s friend, Alice Alder, gets duped by Lux Lewis this month, raising the question: does anyone care about Alice Alder anymore? After all, she was duped by Lux. Here to answer that question, sexy cool new girl Luxkin: Kitty Maddox. Kitty, what’s your take?” “I loved Alice Alder, I grew up watching her with Lux, okay?, and she’s, like, a legend -- but now she is erratic and addled and gross and nobody want her no more, okay, they want Kitty Maddox, BABYYYYY.” “Haha, you’re delightful. So, where does Alice Alder go from here?” “Oh, you know where she should go? She should go wherever has-beens go when they’re done being popular and nobody cares if they live or die.”

^ Okay, that started off as a total joke, then got so long that it just... turned into the explication itself, with perhaps a few caveats regarding how Kitty viewed Alice previously. But how did a joke so perfectly encapsulate the set of lyrics... one of life’s greatest wonders...

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ALICE + CASEY

“Sea of Dreams” by Oberhofer

“I’ll take your word like a good friend should / If the Earth should dry / May your dreams never die.”

Plot-twist! Going for Casey, someone Alice’s skelly doesn’t have a connection with?! Someone who didn’t have a quote in my 2021 application?! Besties, I’m convinced that Casey is the person Alice turns to the most. Like... kinda fucked up that I consider that her truest friendship (Zev, you’re a contender), but everyone else? The communication skills are just not there. Literally, my brain hatched an idea and I needed to think of a character Alice would actually go to and trust with it and I was like “.......damn I think Casey would be the only move.” (Ella, more on that idea when I work out a few kinks.) So basically! My favorite song about friendship <3

Find it hilarious that this would further complicate Alice’s relationship with Zahra, though.

“Trigger Bang” by Lily Allen (ft. Giggs)

“When I was young / I was blameless / Playing with rude boys and trainers / I had a foot in the rave / ‘Cause I was attracted to danger / I never got home for Neighbours, hey.”

Aha, but it’s also built on the back of things the kids in Skins do (I did not know the actors were literal teenagers, mostly minors, until today and I’m still reeling over that one scene Effy had in the first season, now realizing Kaya Scodelario was only 14 and---------)! By which I mean - school projects! Making sure Casey passes his tests! ...Then meeting each other in an alleyway - one the dealer, one the buyer. That said, if you listen to the full song, you come to see that the absolute opposite of blame is being placed on the other party -- so, the absolute opposite of blame would be placed on Casey. Everything is free-will, isn’t it? Just along for the ride!

“Escapism” by Rebecca Sugar

“I guess I’ll have to face / That in this awful place I shouldn’t show a trace of doubt / But pulled against the grain / I feel a little pain that I would rather do without / I’d rather be free.”

I think Alice always feels constrained in one way or another. I mean, choosing Casey to fill this final slot wasn’t just because I apparently don’t listen to enough music about interpersonal relationships (...though that did factor in...). Going through everyone else in the Gang, going through the other skeletons, going through the other townies -- as I implied in my first blurb, I feel like there’s only one person Alice actually feels a semblance of freedom around. A semblance of self. Casey is a genuine friend, someone who doesn’t seem to have a judgmental bone in his body, and that’s something that Alice has always needed -- but has seldom had -- in her life.

#cusatask #hi casey [twirls hair]

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cherrybombusa · 3 years

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GROUP THREE - THE FINALE.

PLAYERS:

THE WANNABE - Virginia Ann Virginia. THE BITCH - Zahra Jackson. THE REPORTER - Clarissa Teller.

MEMORABLE MOMENTS:

-The Intrepid Reporter, Clarissa Teller stood in for one of the Gang! She now has firsthand knowledge of the Candy Girl. The Gang chose luck, and passed! They gained extra hints on their puzzle due to their success. -The Gang used all three tries on their puzzle, and succeeded. -Zahra chased the Candy Girl. -The Gang ran away from Dean Hargrove when he confronted them - this will come back to bite them later.

The kissing booth had been a successful venture for the lifeguards every year, but with Virginia Virginia at the helm of the booth this year, the sunscreen fund was far from suffering. She was helping to count the money when a little note fell out of one of the stacks of cash. What it said? “MEET ME BACKSTAGE AT 7:30 SHARP, OR I SPILL YOUR DIRTY LITTLE SECRET. SEE YOU SOON!” @virginiacherries

Zahra had spent most of the day on Roller Coaster Row along with the rest of the Boardwalk’s patrons, but now that the day was winding down to a close - and the Coasters were taking a break to draw the crowd down to the stage - she’d better go find her friends. It probably would have been difficult had she been on her own in the endeavor, but like a miracle worker, a Boardwalk worker shows up and tells her that Rory has been looking for her. Apparently her cousin is backstage waiting for her. Huh. She must be with the band -- and Zahra better hurry to get there before the ribbon cutting starts. @zahrajackson

THE NARRATOR: Reunions were supposed to be pleasant occasions, weren’t they? They were supposed to bring feelings of joy, and nostalgia; you were supposed to forget the awkward haze that had plagued your last year all together in high school, and just… pretend like the good old days were actually just that. Good. Absence did make the heart grow fonder and all that, didn’t it?

Though, maybe it’s silly to wonder why this little reunion, hanging out in the wings of the Main Stage, might not be so pleasant. It had only been a week ago that Virginia was drugged in Harvey’s basement, after all. Playing at the whims of a suspected lunatic, baring their souls - and their tongues - to each other. Not even ‘a Day in Carousel Cove!’ could smooth over that awkward little blip, could it? And the fact that Clarissa could just tell something was up with the little group definitely didn't help.

Still, the three of them made their polite-ish, familiar conversation. Zahra was wondering where Rory was - Clarissa was wondering where the heck that hunk, Harvey Hargrove was - and Virginia… Well, she was wondering where the hell this Candy Girl was.

ZAHRA: Zahra was getting a little annoyed to be honest. Going backstage would definitely not help keep her... whatever with Casey on the down low, and being caught in semi-awkward, semi-polite conversation with Virginia and Clarissa was nowhere in her day plan. The sooner she could find where the hell Rory was, the better as far as she was concerned. "Okay, let's skip to the part where we're done talking," she interrupted abruptly, clearly having been paying little attention to what was being said. "Have either of you seen Rory or can I go?"

VIRGINIA ANN: Virginia wasn't shaking in her boots just yet, but she couldn't help but feel the lump in the back of her throat when she had read that little note. So cryptic, but so telling. The last thing she wanted was for everyone to find out her dirty little secret(s) so she showed up and played nice, as much as Virginia Virginia could play nice. "Um, hello? Were you like not given a lesson in Polite 101?" Virginia quipped back, motioning between herself and Clarissa. "Do we look like we'd know where Rory is? She's probably somewhere making out with Libby." Frankly, Virginia didn't give two flying farts about where Rory was, she was just wondering about where this coveted Candy Girl was. She wasn't expecting whoever they were to show up, but there was a part of her that kept her eyes flocking between everyone. Maybe it was Zahra or Clarissa who had sent her the note. Or maybe Virginia was just letting this get under her skin a little too much.

THE NARRATOR: Clarissa is just about to question the statement - um, Rory and Libby? Hello, how had she never thought of the angle?! - their conversation is cut off by the sound of Dean Hargrove on the stage to their left, welcoming the citizens to the boardwalk, thanking them for a great day, and more; but before the man can introduce Lux’s parents who have just joined him onstage… Before he can start in on his plans to announce the renaming of the ‘Lux Lewis Memorial Carousel’, he’s cut off by a voice that none of them quite recognize… a voice that might just damn them all.

CANDY GIRL: “REST IN PEACE TO OUR DEAR OLD LUX, BUT I HAVE NEWS THAT THE CHERRY TIMES IS TOO SCARED TO TELL! THIS WAS NO SUICIDE. LUX WAS MURDERED. THE QUESTION IS - WHICH ONE OF HER FRIENDS DID IT?”

THE NARRATOR: At that moment, a sheet unfurls behind Dean Hargrove, and a projector that seems to have been installed into the soundbooth across from the stage flips on. The image it casts should be a shocking sight, but to our little ragtag slice of the gang, the Cherry Bomb logo is all too recognizable. The image is a blown up cover of her latest issue, and - surprise, surprise! - Lux is once again the star.

It would have been hard not to hear the collective gasp of the crowd - to feel the tension that had pulled it’s way into the air around them - but this little slice of the gang is too focused on copy after copy of the Cherry Bomb falling from the catwalks above the mainstage to notice. Everyone is looking up, away from the sick slideshow that’s now showing crime scene photos from the night of Lux’s death - trying to get a glimpse of whoever is throwing them - but nobody can quite see who is responsible. One thing is for sure, though. Whoever they are, they’ve got Boardwalk Employee shirts on.

CANDY GIRL: “AND TO THAT LITTLE GANG! MAKE SURE TO CHECK OUT THE LATEST ISSUE. SOMEONE IS MISSING, AND YOU’RE THE ONLY PEOPLE WHO CAN FIND THEM BEFORE IT’S TOO LATE. GOOD LUCK!”

THE NARRATOR: Just as the little message is over, and the vicinity is filled with the all-too-loud sound of Cherry Bomb by the Runaways bursting their eardrums… Something slaps to the ground behind them. The three of them turn, just in time to come face to face with a figure in a black hoodie - at their feet? An issue of the Cherry Bomb.

They can’t quite tell if it’s a woman or a man; they can’t quite tell how tall they are without the help of their boots, or what the color of their hair is. The only thing distinctive enough to notice is the fucking mask that’s staring them all right back in the face; smiling like a lunatic, and sending chills down their spines.

Could this actually be her? Could it… Could it actually be the Candy Girl?

Nobody moves for a moment; a long moment. So, when the figure finally kicks a foot out to slide the magazine toward them - the issue only stopping when it hits their own shoes - they can’t help but flinch… And then again, when they take off running.

MAKE A CHOICE: WHOEVER THE HELL THAT IS - THEY’RE GETTING AWAY! DO YOU WANT TO CHASE THEM [STRENGTH], OR LET THEM GO [CALM]?

ZAHRA: Zahra's mind was moving a million miles a minute, jumping from Lux's potential murder to the copies of the Cherry Bomb raining down to frantically trying to remember when she had last seen any of the rest of the gang, to the likelihood of the person in front of her being the Candy Girl. A hundred little things were in her brain, so when she took of running after the hooded figure she wasn't even fully thinking about it. The math was simple and instinctive - whoever they were, they were involved. If they were involved, they had information. Information means one step closer to making sure she doesn't lose another member of her little found family. Not to mention that if they were involved, they were at least partial responsible for this whole clusterfuck and that could not go unpunished. Never before had she been so glad she hadn't worn heels (sandals and painted toenails were much more beach appropriate, anyway).

THE NARRATOR: Ha. The figure had been expecting them to give chase, and they fell right into the time trap. Zahra gave a good chase - ducked when they did, dove through every sudden turn they made. She was good - better than they thought she would be - but she wasn't good enough.

It was somewhere in the crowd that figure finally managed to get the jump on her. She was being pushed in every direction - pulled by the chaos of people trying to get the hell out of the chaos - when she finally lost sight of them. What she did find, though? The supposed ‘Candy Girl’s’ mask on the ground, trampled by the onlookers, but still there... at least she had proof, right?

So much for throwing hands. She better get back to Clarissa and Virginia.

MAKE A CHOICE: THE GANG HAS SUFFERED A TIME PENALTY FOR THEIR ACTIONS.

THE NARRATOR: Zahra's losing the masked lunatic or not - however annoyed Virginia was that she hadn't caught her - they were personally delivered a copy of the Cherry Bomb for a reason, right? The Candy Girl wouldn’t just show herself if there weren’t some grand scheme involved.

Clarissa wants to go get her father, like, ASAP, but somehow the other two manage to convince her not to do it. They have to open the Cherry Bomb alone - they would surely get punished if they went to the police. Right?

The cover is collaged with photos of Lux, the inside? Crime scene photos. There’s no pictures of her body, of course - that would be crude, even for the Candy Girl… kind of. But images of the blood soaked into her carpet; still pictures of her bedroom, flaunting a life once lived, those are there. A shot of her suicide note, ‘I’m sorry, I love you,’ and all.

And right there, in the middle of the spread, like a centerfold? A note, written in Sharpie - just for our ragtag little slice of the gang.

CANDY GIRL: GET OUT,,, GET OUT, WHEREVER YOU’RE LOCKED!!!! NOT A FAN OF SMALL SPACES?? I’LL STICK YOU IN A BOX. SOMEONE IS MISSING, BUT I WON’T SAY WHO… FIND THE KEY, AND FIND OUT WHO.

BUT WATCH OUT, WATCH OUT! YOU’RE ON THE CLOCK! LET IT RUN OUT, AND THEY’LL STAY IN THE BOX. WILL THE TIDE COME IN? HMM, MAYBE IT WON’T. OR BETTER YET? MAYBE YOUR FRIENDS WILL FLOAT.

THE NARRATOR: Oh...my. Now, that’s a predicament, isn’t it? I suppose we’re at least lucky that the Candy Girl leaves the rules simple, right? Find a key, and… Maybe she doesn’t kill one of your friends. Maybe.

MAKE A CHOICE: YOU MUST FIND A KEY, BUT HOW DO YOU IT? BY LOOKING FOR CLUES [PROBLEM SOLVING] OR BY TEARING BACKSTAGE APART? [LUCK]

VIRGINIA ANN: Virginia didn't know if it was her lack of critical thinking, Zahra running off, or the photos within the Cherry Bomb, but after the initial shock of the crime scene photos, the last thing Virginia wanted was someone to end up like Lux again. Virginia had never considered murder, she thought she had pushed Lux to the edge of her suicide but was Candy Girl right? Had Lux been murdered and if so, was this lunatic the one who was doing it? And were they planning on doing it again if the three of them didn't act fast enough? A key, Virginia could do that. She could find that. Immediately after reading the note, the blonde began tearing apart every surface she could. Tearing tarps away, moving cords, opening boxes, anything that could lead her to the puzzle piece they needed.

THE NARRATOR: It shouldn’t have worked - it definitely shouldn’t have worked! But, somehow - with the heads of Zahra, Clarissa, and Virginia on the case - the three girls actually manage to find something. It’s a Cherry red briefcase with a lock on the top; a place for a four digit code. And get this, Clarissa was looking at the note, and it turns out that it was a clue all along!

MAKE A CHOICE: SUCCESS. YOU HAVE GAINED EXTRA HINTS FOR THE RIDDLE, AND MADE IT EASIER TO RESCUE YOUR FRIEND.

ZAHRA: Zahra enters 2134 into the lock.

MAKE A CHOICE: WRONG CODE. TRY AGAIN.

VIRGINIA ANN: Virginia enters 3214 into the lock.

MAKE A CHOICE: WRONG CODE. TRY AGAIN

CLARISSA: Clarissa rolls her eyes. "Ugh, fine! If you, like, seriously need me to be the one to put it in, then I'll do it, but don't blame me when the thing blows up!" The blonde was terrified - of course it was this gang of weirdos who got her pulled into this kind of trouble - but as she clicks '3142' into the briefcase... miraculously it clicks open. And doesn't explode. Thank god!

THE NARRATOR: Finally, the box pops open, and as promised, they’re granted a shiny little key on a ring… But along with it, they’re also given another note from the Candy Girl. Another riddle.

CANDY GIRL: SOMEONE IS MISSING - YOU HAVE THE KEY.

BUT YOU NEED TO MORE, FROM YOUR FRIENDS, YOU SEE.

ONLY THREE WILL PLEASE THE LOCK - ONLY THREE UNLOCK THE BOX.

TWO MUST RUN, THEY MUST RETRIEV!

BUT THE ONE, MUST SCOPE THE BEACH. MISSINGS THE THEME, MISPELLED IS THE CLUE, FOR THE DIRECTION THAT YOU’LL WANT TO DO.

TO THE RUNNERS, HERE’S YOUR CLUE! LOOK FOR SOMEONE WHO HATES ONE OF YOU! BEST FRIEND OF YOUR BEST FRIEND - TWIN FLAME OF YOUR GUY. OMEONE YOU BOTH KNOW IS HIDING THEIR LIES.

THE OTHER KEY HIDES WITH THE KEEPER OF PROSE - AND MAYBE THAT ONE IS TOO ON THE NOSE. BUT IF YOU DON’T FIND HIM, NOTEBOOK AND ALL, THEN WATCH OUT, WACH OUT…

IT’S YOUR BABY THAT FALLS.

THE NARRATOR: Their hearts are pounding in their chests so loud they’re all convinced they can hear it echoing off of the walls - even over the music that’s still playing - but… Nothing could mask the sound of the Dean barking their name from behind them; Lux’s parents watching, horrified, as they pick up the copy of the Cherry Bomb that’s still laying there on the ground, where they left it. “Would any of you like to explain to Mr. and Mrs. Lewis what the hell is going on here?”

No, no, no! There’s no time for this. They have to solve the riddle - they have to find the keys before it’s too late. Somebody needs to get rid of the Dean… or maybe they just need to run.

MAKE A CHOICE: SOMEBODY GET RID OF THE DEAN, [CHARISMA, BRAVERY, HONESTY] OR RUN! [BRAVERY, FIGHTER, SURVIVOR]

ZAHRA: Zahra didn't even register the words of the Dean. Her mind was stuck on that line - IT’S YOUR BABY THAT FALLS. Icy fear filled her at the implications - this was Rory they were working to save. With those five words the Candy Girl had reached into her heart and wrapped a hand around it, threatening to rip it out entirely. They didn't have time to hesitate or explain - not with Rory on the line. Fuck. Fuckity fucking fuck. The Dean's voice was a faded muffle, drowned out by her pounding heart as she looked at Virginia and Clarissa. Her eyes had narrowed and her hands had curled into fists, crushing the second note with the force of her anger, panic, and pure terror. "We're running," she said simply, determination and fear both audible in her tone. And, for the second time that day, she took off as fast she could, holding onto that note and the hope that they'd solved the riddle correctly.

MAKE A CHOICE: SUCCESS. EVERYONE MUST RUN! SPLIT UP. FIND THE CORRECT FRIENDS. RUN THE CORRECT DIRECTION ON THE BEACH. IT’S THE ONLY WAY TO WIN. EVERYONE RESPOND. [STRENGTH, BRAVERY, OR FIGHTER]

CLARISSA: Clarissa thinks it's a bad idea to leave her to run for the keys... and then all the way back to the beach. Like, did they think she was Superwoman, or something? But if this Candy Girl was really as sinister as she seemed to be - well, Rissa couldn't exactly let Rory Collins, like, die on the beach, could she? Besides the fact that her Dad would be pissed at her, even she had to admit it would totally hang onto her conscience until she bit the dust too. So with a groan, she just takes off toward wherever the hell Noah is and hopes that he has this dumb key. He better. She didn't want to be seen talking to Noah Russell, for like. Any other reason.

MAKE A CHOICE: CLARISSA WAS SUCCESSFUL. SHE MUST GET TO THE BEACH.

VIRGINIA ANN: As soon as Zahra said that they were running, it took no time for Virginia's feet to start going. There wasn't much going on in her brain, but it didn't take a genius to deduce that Zahra would be the one going after Rory and that it would be Virginia and Clarissa getting the keys. With her legs moving as quickly as she possibly could, Virginia hunted for Libby who she hoped would have a key for her. It's not like she wanted to go to another funeral before her 19th birthday.

MAKE A CHOICE: VIRGINIA WAS SUCCESSFUL. SHE MUST GET TO THE BEACH.

ZAHRA: Zahra ran as fast as she could, for once uncaring about keeping her hair perfect or her clothes pristine. She just ran west, heading for the beach. Her legs burned with exertion but the adrenaline had well and truly kicked in. Losing Rory was unacceptable - especially so soon after Lux. Especially not when she was here this time, actually able to do something.

VIRGINIA ANN: After getting the key from Libby, Virginia prayed to the stolen Louis Vuitton bag in her possession that she had gotten everything in time. With a huff, she took off in the direction of the beach, her legs pumping more than she ever thought they could. If there was a list of things Virginia was grateful for it'd be that stolen bag and the years of cheer conditioning that prepped her for a true life-or-death moment.

CLARISSA: Yikes. So, apparently the little group had been through more hell than she thought. She had retrieved the key from Noah, and along with it she had gotten a sneak peek at another little piece of the gang that had been tormented over the last half hour. Had it really only been a half hour? Christ.

She had to stop thinking about it, though - she had to stop thinking about how much she wished she had actually stuck to her cardio, like she had insisted she would over New Years - and keep pushing. She wouldn't let Rory Collins die. The Lux news cycle was barely even over!

MAKE A CHOICE: SUCCESS... KIND OF.

THE NARRATOR: Zahra scopes the beach far and wide, it’s an exhaustive effort, but after a mighty search, they finally spot it. The tide has been coming in - barely the top is visible… and it’s filling with water fast. She could already be gone. They sprint toward it with all of their might - they pray that she’s still breathing in her little prison… But is she?

MAKE A CHOICE: UNLOCK THE BOX.

ZAHRA: Zahra had never been as grateful for Virginia, Clarissa, or several years of competitive commitment to cheer as she was right now. Maybe this was the first time she'd been truly grateful for Virginia in, like, ever. She'd never admit it, but her hands were shaking as she fit the keys into the locks, holding them a little too tight to make sure there was no chance of dropping them and having them be washed away by the tide. With her heart in her throat, she unlocked the locks one by one, threw the box open, and pulled her cousin out into her arms.

RORY: Rory wasn’t sure how long she had been locked in here. Her throat was raw from screaming for help, from crying between shouting. No one seemed to be coming. At that realization, she’d curled up as small as she could in the claustrophobic little box, with her arms wrapped tight around her ears as she tried to block out the sound of the waves that were so nearby. Too close for comfort.

If those people with the masks came back - god, she wished they would just come back - she wasn’t going anywhere without a fight. Not that it had helped when they grabbed her. Rough hands yanking her into the dark.

Her hands was sore from throwing herself against the top, trying with everything she had to break through. After a while, she’d given up on that, certain that an ugly bruise was already blooming on both palms. She promised herself she’d keep trying anyway if no one came in the next few hours. Surely someone would realize she was gone soon, wouldn’t they?

God knows how long it had already been. At least 3 hours - maybe more. Maybe a lot more. Rory wished she had a watch. Or a light. For the first time, she wished she was more addicted to the cigs she occasionally bummed off of others. At least a lighter’s meager flame would have offered some comfort in the pitch black box. Rory couldn’t even see her hand when she held it in front of her face.

She hated the dark. Hated it. She hated the water more… so when she started to hear the sound of those waves, crashing up against the walls of her tiny prison? When she began to feel her clothes getting wet, and smelling the salty foam in her nose? When what little air she had became a crack in the corner of the box, and when she got so tired that she began sputtering on water?

Rory was going to die here, wasn’t she?

The sound of someone running on the beach - someone shouting her name - jarred her from her spiraling thoughts. It pulled her from the haze of near-death, and giving up. She let out a bloodcurdling scream, and pounded on the top of the box with her hands. “HELLO? LET ME OUT OF HERE!” She shrieked, her voice sounding hoarse even to her own ears. Her thoughts tripped over one another as hope flooded her brain. They came- they came and they got her, her friends -

As soon as the top of the box started to crack, she bolted through the opening and threw her arms around the first person she saw in a death-grip hug. She was shaking, tears spilling down her cheeks, and unable to stop the words from tumbling out of her mouth. “Oh my god you came, you guys came,” before her throat was too tight to speak anymore.

MAKE A CHOICE: YOU HAVE SAVED RORY AND SUCCESSFULLY COMPLETED YOUR PLOT EVENT.

#bio rp #town rp #oc rp #skeleton rp #small town rp #secrets rp #gossip rp #gossip girl rp #90s rp #classic rp #plot event 001.#plot event 001 - the finale.

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ladyseaheart1668 · 4 years

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Endless Summer Book 4: Daughter of Vaanu (Chapter 54)

Description: A race to reach Diego and Alodia ends with a highly-anticipated arrival.

Tagging: @endlesshero1122 @feartheendlesssummer @mysteli @whatmcsaid@xo-endlessmayhem-xo @tigerbryn11

Chapter 54 : River Skye

Jake

“Sean! Pull over!” Varyyn’s voice comes over the car’s radio communication system without warning, startling me out of an anxious trance. It apparently startles Sean, too, because the car swerves sharply for a second before reorienting on the road.

“Holy mother of god, Varyyn!” he yelps. “Don’t shout at someone who’s trying to keep three tons of speeding metal under control!”

“Is everything okay back there?”

“Alodia made contact!”

I almost drop the Prism Crystal as electric energy shoots through every nerve in my body. I suddenly feel like my stomach, lungs, and heart are playing musical chairs in my torso and getting tangled up in each other in the rush.

“What did she say? Is she okay? Where is she?!” The questions tumble out of me, and I have to force myself to bite my tongue to let Varyyn answer.

“I don’t know exactly where she is, and I’m not sure if she is alright. Sean, I need you to pull over so that I can touch the Crystal. I think I may be able to get a better lock on her now if I can handle the Crystal.”

That’s all it takes to convince everyone to pull over. We stop at the side of the road and I scramble out to hand the Crystal off to Varyyn, willing myself not to pester him as he closes it between his palms and closes his eyes to concentrate. I can’t help pacing, but I don’t pester him. Finally, he opens his eyes.

“...We are heading in the correct direction. I’m not sure how far off we are, but we are on the right track. She and Diego are in...I think it’s an abandoned house.”

“But you don’t know?” I press him. “What did Alodia say when she made contact?”

Varyyn purses his lips for a moment before answering. “Very little that was clear. She is scared, and I don’t think she is well.”

“What makes you think that?” Michelle asks.

“Her thoughts were very unfocused. And certain images that pervaded them invoked...well...fever. Illness. Pain. She seemed to confirm that she was hurt.”

“Shit!” I hiss, grabbing fistfuls of my hair and pulling viciously to keep myself from punching either a car or one of my innocent friends.

“...I-I really should go ahead,” Tahira says.

Michelle shakes her head. “No. Not alone. We don’t know who we might find there apart from Alodia and Diego, and you’re still not completely healed. It’s best if we stick to the plan. We know the Crystal is leading us in the right direction, so we stick together and follow its path.”

“And who the hell made you the dictator here, Maybelline?” I snap. Michelle fixes me with a steady eye.

“I am aware that your wife is usually the leader in our family, but given that she is the one we’re currently trying to rescue, it seems like it falls on me to be the voice of reason. Tahira might need backup. If Alodia is hurt or sick, I need to be there since I’m the only one of us with a medical degree. And if Tahira takes the Crystal ahead, we lose our only compass, and we possibly lose valuable time trying to find our way--especially if Tahira can’t get past whatever guards Fiddler might have put on them. That is time that I could have spent making sure she and your baby were stable. If you or anyone else can refute any of those points, I am happy to listen.”

Of course, no one really can refute those points. Tahira may be a superhuman, but the rest of us have actually fought Arachnid before. If they still have any of the technology they had on the island, being a superhuman might not be enough. Michelle nods, satisfied.

“Right. Good. There is just one thing first.” She pulls out her phone and taps the screen a few times. We hear the purr of the line ringing on the other end.

“What’s up, Michelle?” Zahra asks on the other end, not quite succeeding at nonchalance.

“Quick version is that Alodia made contact with Varyyn and we know we’re heading in the right direction, but we don’t know much else, and Alodia might not be in the best shape. I think I might need Iris’s medical scanner when we get to her. We’re about six hours out from Northbridge now. Can Iris track us? Like with my phone’s GPS or something?”

“Pfft. Child’s play. I’ll have her in the air in two minutes. You heading towards Northbridge or away?”

“Towards for now.”

“Good. Unless you veer wildly off course or turn around completely, I’d estimate Iris will find you in under three hours.”

“... I just hope that’s fast enough.”

Diego

Eyes screwed shut, sweat running down her ashen face in rivers, Allie pushes shaking, hissing breaths out through a narrow, round gap between her lips, gasping as she inhales. Her ragged fingernails dig uncomfortably into the skin on the back of my hand, but her grip isn’t strong enough to hurt. That’s the part that scares me. She’s feverish and weakened by captivity and infection. She can’t have her baby here. Not like this. I wait for the contraction to pass and blot the sweat off her face with what I think is a relatively clean washcloth that I found in the closet.

“...I have to get help.”

Allie whimpers, shaking her head. “...No…”

“Allie, we don’t really have a choice here. You’re hurt, you’re sick, and now you’re in labor. I--” I feel my voice catching and struggle to keep it under control. “I am way out of my depth here.”

“Varyyn is coming.” Her voice comes out in a weak, strangled moan. “Th-this is my first baby. We have time…”

“Last we knew, your baby was breech, and you were possibly going to need a C-section. If something goes wrong…” I bite my lip against the swell of tears rising from my throat. “Allie, I can’t let you die…”

“I’m...not going to die.” She opens her eyes and turns her gaze to meet mine. “...Don’t leave me alone. If F-Fiddler finds me...you won’t know where she takes me...Rourke will have River. ...Varyyn is coming. He’ll come for us.”

“...Allie…”

“Please…” she whimpers. “...I can’t do this alone. I need you. You’re my best friend. You’re my brother. Please don’t leave me alone…”

I grimace, my teeth clenched against the rising surge of terror that threatens to come out in a frantic scream. There’s no way I can leave her when she’s begging me to stay. My hand shakes as I brush the sweat-soaked hair off her forehead.

“Okay. Okay...I’m not leaving. I promise. Just...tell me what you need. What do you need me to do?”

“H-help me time the...contractions. And...I need you to help me...get my pants off…”

“Already? But...won’t you be cold?”

“I have blankets. My pants are soaked. I’ll be colder with them on.”

“Okay, fair.” I push back the blankets, wincing a little at the dark fluid stain on the crotch of her sweatpants. I force myself to smirk at her. “I won’t deny I feel weird about the idea of seeing my sister’s galleta, but I will endure because I love you.”

She rewards me with a weak smile. “And I love you for doing this.” Her smile twists into a grimace as she attempts to lift her hips to give me room to draw down her pants and underwear. “...I’m sorry...for anything else I put you through before this is over. I’ve read...everything I could find about the process...if I...say anything mean…”

I shake my head, almost smiling for real. “I won’t take it to heart. I promise. And just so you know, if it comes to it, I will absolutely deliver your baby.”

“I hope it doesn’t come to that…” She abruptly falls back with a gasp, clutching wads of the blankets in her fists. I hastily peel one hand away from the blanket to hold in mine.

“I’m here. I’m right here.”

“...It’s...going to get worse…” she groans through clenched teeth.

“And I’ll be here when it does,” I promise. ...Though when it does get worse, I really hope someone else is here, too.

...Hurry, Varyyn. Please hurry...

Caleb

“Zelda needs to go potty!” RJ’s singsong voice floating up from the back of the van makes me groan.

“Jesus, again? Didn’t she go an hour ago?”

“She’s a dog,” Dylan points out reproachfully. “She doesn’t understand time. Besides, she’s nervous. That makes her have to pee more often.”

I don’t particularly feel like cleaning dog piss out of the upholstery, so I grudgingly pull over to let the kids take care of their dog’s business. Might as well take the opportunity to have a smoke, too. The kids complained about the smell when I tried to light up in the van.

At the side of a long stretch of road running through a forest preserve, we pile out of the van. Dylan takes it on himself to clip Zelda’s leash to her collar, and the kids venture a little ways into the trees while I lean against the van and fix a cigarette between my teeth, lighting up with a quick snap of my fingers. I space out as I puff, just barely paying attention as the kids move through the trees. But then I see Ysa take off at a run.

“Ysa!” Dylan yelps. He quickly passes Zelda’s leash to Alex, taking off after his cousin. I move to follow, shouting over my shoulder for the younger boys to stay put where they are. It doesn’t take too long to catch up to her. She’s stopped at the edge of a side road where a jeep is awkwardly parked on the shoulder. The distance is probably the equivalent of a city block ahead of where the van is parked. But I am breathless by the time we reach her.

“What the heck, Ysa?” Dylan says irritably. “What did you run off like that for?”

As I’m catching my breath, I get a look at Ysa’s face, and my gut gets cold as I realize she looks scared.

“What’s wrong?”

“They need help.”

“...Who needs help?”

“The people who were in this car,” she says shakily. “They’re in trouble.”

My eyes find Dylan’s and we exchange a bewildered glance. Clearly he doesn’t know what the fuck to make of what Ysa just said any more than I do.

“Ysa, what...what do you mean?”

“I mean that the people who were in this car are in trouble and they need help,” she replies with an impatient edge in her voice.

“How...do you know that?”

She shakes her head, scowling. “I don’t know how I know. But I know.”

“Who are the people who need help?”

“I don’t know!” she snaps, frustration clearly mounting. “There are two of them. I think. Caleb, we should help them!”

In my opinion, going on some kind of wild goose chase after some unknown people who are supposedly in some possibly imaginary trouble sounds like the last thing we should be doing. But I feel like I can probably phrase it a little more diplomatically.

“Easy, kiddo. I’m sure the people in this car are fine. They’re probably just hiking, and they’ll be back soon.”

“But it’s going to be dark soon!” Ysa protests. “And cold!”

“All the more reason we should be getting back to the van and moving on. We’re gonna need to stop for the night soon.”

“But we can’t just leave them!”

“Ysabel, we don’t know anything about these people! We don’t know if they are even in trouble at all!”

“They are!”

“Caleb,” Dylan interrupts. “...There are footprints near the car. Maybe we could follow them just for a little ways?” Just to satisfy her, is the part he doesn’t say, but I can still hear. “If the people in the car are on their way back, we’ll probably run into them pretty quickly.”

I groan. What did I get myself into with these kids? For fuck’s sake, I’m actually considering going along with this…

“Okay, fine! But wait here for a minute, okay? I’m gonna get the van and the boys and the dog. I don’t wanna leave the van on the shoulder out in the open.”

Alodia

There are ghosts in this room.

I’m being wrapped in a corset of white-hot barbed wire. My hands and feet are numb with cold, but the blood in my head has been replaced with boiling magma that melts a block of ice deep in the center of my brain and sends alternating trickles of ice and unbearable heat down my spine. I’m sweating and shivering as I cling to Diego, my brain flickering between lucidity, delirium, and something in between. In the space between, I find the ghosts. I am not the first mother to labor on this spot.

I can hear the noises I’m making. Clumsy, gulping sobs interspersed with animal groans, grunts, and howls. The ghosts hear me, too. Many of them are making the same noises in their struggle to bring their children into the world. I am one with them, with every mother in history who opened her legs on this spot to sweat and push new life from her body.

Some babies come easily. The house I labor in is new, and a young mother who is probably still alive somewhere in the world breathes through her labor and delivers her son with such quiet effort that her little daughter feels no fear as she plays at her mother’s head. The child absorbs an atmosphere of excitement as her new baby brother lets out his first cry. But not every mother is so fortunate, and as each contraction swells to excruciating heights, the lucky mothers’ happy tears are washed away in blood as an immigrant woman’s baby girl refuses to draw breath, or an indigenous mother bleeds out over her howling son.

Children born dead. Mothers killed in the process. I meet the dark eyes of a girl who can’t be more than fifteen, the first human to give birth on this spot more than ten-thousand years ago, whose ancestors had made a journey across lands that were later swallowed by the rising sea. She is not a primitive creature. She speaks in sentences. She has a family and a culture. The child she bears was conceived with a boy to whom she had given herself willingly, with the intent of creating new life. But her humanity is tested when the pain sets in, pain that has been a part of child-bearing for so long that no one remembers the days when we were apes and we gave birth with minimal effort. She is scared, and her fear is my fear. My pain is her pain. But my labor is not her labor. Hers was over ten-thousand years ago. Every other woman who has labored on this spot is past her pain, but I’m in the thick of mine. Still, their long-dead labors cling to me like the ropes of seaweed that drape treasures drawn up from a shipwreck.

She won’t die. I won’t let my baby die. I won’t let her be sacrificed to the bloodthirsty deity who has circled mothers on this spot like a vulture for ten-thousand years, choosing whether to separate mother and child in death, or whether to take or spare them both. Whoever this deity is, they can’t have my baby. They won’t have her.

...But as I feel delirium encroaching on my mind again, and pain rises to meet it, I have to admit that I am less confident they won’t have me.

Caleb

We’ve been walking for awhile now. The younger boys are starting to complain, but Ysa is insisting we push on.

“We’re going the right way,” she says confidently.

I know she’s right because the trail we’ve been following hasn’t gone cold yet. Whoever these people are, they haven’t turned back toward their jeep yet. It’s a bad sign. As late as it is, hikers would have turned back by now, or set up camp if that’s what they were planning to do. As far as we’ve come, it’s not likely they’re either hikers or campers. Even if they were hurt and unable to move, we’d have found them by now, or the trail would have dropped off. It’s looking more and more likely that they abandoned their jeep because of some kind of mechanical failure and struck out on foot. Why the hell they didn’t just stay with the jeep and call for help is anyone’s fucking guess. But I’m starting to think Ysa’s right about them being in trouble.

That feeling only grows when the area we’re in starts to look real fucking familiar…

...Oh, shit…

“Okay, that’s enough!” I say firmly, reaching out to grab Ysa’s shoulder and stop her advancing. “Time to get back to the van.”

“No!” Ysa cries. “No, we’re so close!”

“And we wanna be getting a lot farther away!”

“Caleb, what’s wrong?” Dylan asks.

“I know this place. It’s very near to where a very dangerous person lives, and we should get outta here and get back to the van.”

“But what about the people?!” Ysa wails. “We’ve come so far, we can’t just leave them!”

“Ysa, you heard Caleb. It might be dangerous. If he thinks we should go back, then we should go back.”

“No!”

I gotta admit, I wasn’t expecting sweet little Ysabel to pull away from me. And I definitely wasn’t expecting her to take off running again. Where the shit does she get so much energy?

“Dylan, you stay here with the boys and the dog!” I order. “Keep yourselves hidden and wait right here! I’ll bring her back!”

Diego

“Dios te salve, Maria. Llena eres de gracia: El Seńor es contigo…”

I mutter the old, familiar words under my breath. They taste foreign on my tongue. You might think that being raised Catholic, the prayer would come naturally to me. It doesn’t. Prayer in general doesn’t come naturally to me. The God of my mother and father has been a stranger to me for so many years. The gods of my lover and my found family are...well...me, and the members of my found family, and the most powerful of them is the very woman I am trying to pray for. But prayer is all I have to turn to right now.

“Bendita tú eres entre todas las mujeres…”

At first I thought about praying to Vaanu. Surely if any deity could protect Allie, it would be her father, right? But Vaanu isn’t really a god. Any more than I am, or Allie as the Endless, or any of the Catalysts. Vaanu is an alien with weird alien powers, but he’s not a god to be prayed to.

“Y bendito es el fruto de tu vientre, Jesús.”

The words are sticking in my throat. At first I tried to think back to my mother’s book of Saints, see if there was a patron saint of childbirth buried in my subconscious whose name I could invoke to protect Allie. Of course multiple such saints exist. There are patron saints of television and the internet, it would be stupid if there weren’t any saints watching over such a messy, dangerous, and common process that has been going on throughout human history. But what I mostly remember about patron saints of childbirth and mothers is that a number of them are weirdly sans childbearing organs. If I believed in a Mother Goddess, I might have called on her. Instead, I’m softly crying out to the only blessed being from the religion of my childhood that I vaguely imagine might hear me.

“Santa María, Madre de Dios…”

Allie buries her face in my chest, clutching my sleeves as she screams. Her body is slick with sweat, feeling like she might slip out of my arms. I hold her tighter, rocking urgently as I stroke her damp, greasy hair with a shaking hand.

“...Ruega por nosotros pecadores,ahora y en la hora de nuestra muerte…”

Caleb

I was right about where we are. Gigi’s abandoned squat is looming in the distance, and Ysabel is barrelling toward it. Fuck, does this kid ever get tired?! Call it adrenaline or a second wind or whatever, but somehow seeing where she’s headed gives me a burst of speed, and I finally overtake her enough to wrap my arms around her and roll us both to the ground. Of course she struggles, but I’m prepared for that this time, and I don’t loosen my grip.

“Let me go!” she shrieks, desperation in her voice. “Caleb, let me go!”

“I will, if you promise to stand still long enough that we can talk about this!” Ysa rapidly stills, apparently thinking this over. I prompt her, “Do we have a deal?”

“...Yeah.”

I cautiously loosen my grip, and when she doesn’t immediately take off again, I give her space to get up. I get into a crouch in front of her and take her by the upper arms, not hard enough to hurt her, but not loose enough that she can break away again without a struggle. I hold her gaze with mine.

“Listen to me, kiddo. You don’t want anything to do with that place, okay? I know the people who hang out there, and they’re really, really dangerous. Especially for a kid like you. It’s time to go back to your brothers and cousins.”

The moon is bright overhead, and I can see Ysa’s dark eyes shimmer with tears, her lips quivering. “But...the people...we have to help them…”

I’m about to protest, but I’m interrupted by the faint, but unmistakable sound of a scream drifting out from inside the house. Fuck. Not like I’m gonna be able to convince her no one’s in trouble in there now. I groan through gritted teeth, briefly tightening my grip on the kid. I shake my head briefly to clear it, then sigh and look back at her face.

“Look...I’ll take care of figuring out what’s going on in there, okay? But while I’m doing that, you need to hide, got it? Hide in the trees, and if anyone comes after you, you scream your lungs out. Understand?”

After the briefest hesitation, she nods. When I release her and stand up, she moves back into the trees. I nod my approval, then steel myself to go back into Gigi’s squat. I don’t know if I’m gonna be able to help whoever’s in there. I’ve at least got some hope that whoever it is, it’s not Gigi or any of her crew, that they really have abandoned the place. But no way Ysa’s gonna go back to the safety of her family or the van if I don’t try. I try to keep to shadows as I creep up to the front door. I press my ear to the door and don’t detect movement immediately behind it, nor are there any flickers in the front-facing windows. I know from experience that the door creaks when opened slowly, but usually if I open it fast, it mostly makes a faint squeak. I make a calculated decision and push it open quickly. Unfortunately, I am rewarded with the sustained, thunderous crash of dozens of unopened cans of food clattering against worn tile. A crude intruder alarm. Way too crude for Gigi, but it definitely destroyed any hope I had of sneaking in and stealthily assessing the situation.

Well...I’m in it now. Might as well see what the screaming is about.

Diego

I’m aware that I’m sobbing as I replace Allie on the mattress and stand with the fireplace poker clutched in my fist. Someone’s in the house. Maybe. I hope against hope that the crash of cans scared them off. But if not…

I plant my feet and raise the poker in front of me like a sword. Allie whimpers and moans behind me. I blink fiercely to clear the tears from my eyes. I need to be able to see. If I have to fight to protect her, I will. But I hope I don’t have to. Maybe it’s okay. Maybe even if the cans didn’t scare them off, it’s not actually someone who wants to harm us. Maybe it’s just someone desperate for shelter like we were. Maybe it’s even Varyyn, come to rescue us, or…

The shadows under the door shift as someone moves in the corridor beyond. The doorknob rattles as whoever it is tries the handle, but the lock holds. The next sound is a pounding knock.

“Hello?” An unfamiliar male voice drifts through the door. “Everything okay in there?”

“Wh-who are you?!” I hate how high and shaky my voice sounds. The last thing I want is to sound weak and scared, however well that describes how I feel.

“Uh...well, my name probably doesn’t mean anything to you...but I’m not here to cause trouble. It’s just I know this area, and if you’re not from around here, you probably don’t want to hang around...Listen, it kinda sounds like someone’s hurt in there…”

“M-my friend…” I hear myself admitting. I find that I’ve stepped closer to the door, too, as if drawn by the prospect of a friendly--or at least non-hostile--face on the other side. “Sh-she…she’s…”

“I’ll level with you, I stumbled across your jeep a ways back, followed the trail you left. I got a van...I could help you get her to a hospital. Or...I got a phone if you wanna call for help…”

“The phone,” I answer promptly. “Slide the phone under the door.”

“Hey, hang on. How do I know I’m gonna get it back?”

Irritation needles at me, temporarily distracting me from my fear. “My friend’s not in a condition to get out the window, and I’m not gonna leave her behind.”

He groans. “...Yeah, okay. Fair. Fine. Just a sec.”

I never thought I would cry at the sight of a smartphone, but right now, the shiny rectangle that our visitor wedges under the door is the most beautiful thing I’ve seen in days. I drop the poker and pounce on it, my hands trembling as I thumb the home button. Just one further obstacle to get over.

“...Passcode…?”

Varyyn

I don’t recognize the number of the call coming through on my phone. But I answer, because the situation I am in is not one where a person ignores calls from unknown numbers.

“Hello?”

“...Varyyn?!”

My heart drops into the pit of my belly as a knot of tangled emotion wraps itself around my throat. I feel myself begin to shake.

“...Diego…? ...Diego, my darling, is that you?”

In the driver’s seat beside me, Estela stiffens. Her hand moves toward the switch that would allow our friends in the other car to listen in, but I block it with my hand, and she grips the wheel again. Not yet, I signal with a shake of my head. Not until I have something more to tell them.

“Yes! Yes, it’s me! Wh-where are you? Allie said she reached you, and you were coming for us…”

I bring my free hand back to caress the phone with my fingertips, as if I can reach through it to touch his beautiful face. My breath quivers in my throat.

“We are coming, my own sweetheart. I promise. We’re following the Prism Crystal to reach you. You...you’re together, right? Are you all right? Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine,” he answers with a catch in his voice. “But Allie…”

“She seemed unwell when we spoke…”

I can almost feel him nodding. “We escaped in a jeep. We were heading toward Northbridge, but it broke down. Allie was hurt, and then she got sick, and now she’s in labor, Varyyn, and I don’t know if she’s going to be okay…”

“Wait, you were heading toward Northbridge?!” I sit up straighter, my heart pounding violently against my ribs. “Where did the jeep break down?! Where are you now?!”

“We’re in an abandoned house somewhere. We were on highway fifty-eight, somewhere past mile-marker twenty-four, I think. We had to walk for awhile…”

“Twenty-four…we just passed that, just before you called! ...Estela, what…?” I suddenly realize that Estela has brought the car to a stop. She nods at the windshield. Ahead of us, I can see that our friends have stopped, and Tahira has emerged from the car with the Crystal in her hand. She turns slowly in place and leans over to speak to the others.

“...Varyyn…? Are you still there?”

“I’m here, my love. ...I…”

The radio crackles to life, and Jake’s voice comes through. “Crystal’s pointing into the trees now. Don’t think we’re gonna find a straight road through. Might be best to continue on foot.”

“Diego is on the phone!” I practically yelp in my excitement, and turn my attention back to my partner. “We’re close, my darling! Do you hear me? We’re very close now, my love, so just hold on for a little while longer and we’l--”

A massive noise that I cannot decipher on the other end of the line swallows my words. My veins turn to ice as I hear Diego cry out.

“Diego?!” I am answered only by the sound of scuffling and unintelligible voices just before the line goes dead. And then I hear my own voice, strangled and foreign to my own ears. “No!”

Diego

I’m rooted to the spot, frozen in shock as I take in Stonewall looming in the destroyed doorway. I don’t recognize the brown-haired woman grinning in front of him, nor the shaggy-haired man slumped against the wall just outside. But the woman is staring at me like she knows me and I can’t take my eyes off her face. Then Stonewall, moving with shocking speed for a man made of rocks, lunges at me. The phone slips out of my hand as he grabs my wrist. I’m pulled like a rag doll, and in the dimly lit room, I can just make out the sight of the phone being crushed under his stone foot before my arm bone and the socket of my shoulder are forcibly separated. The pain is white-hot, shooting through my shoulder like a lightning bolt and temporarily blinding me. My own scream is distant in my ears, overpowered by the screech of static as my consciousness threatens to detach from the agony. When the world finally rights itself, I am crumpled on the carpet, sobbing as I clutch my arm. It’s still attached to my body, but it won’t move. I weakly probe my shoulder, but the flashes of pain and unnatural softness I feel there make my gorge rise. I try to focus on the face above me, the grinning, girlish face of the unfamiliar woman.

“So it’s true. I do have Selected staying under my roof. And not just any Selected.” She turns her gaze toward the mattress where Allie is struggling to sit upright, a desperate attempt at a defensive posture. “...The Mystery herself. My killer.”

She turns away from me, drawing something out of her pocket as she crosses to the mattress. A switchblade. I see it gleam as she flicks it open beside her.

“Looking a little worse for wear, Alodia,” the woman purrs. “And what’s that going on with your stomach? Got a little parasite?”

“...Who are you…?” Allie croaks out the question in something that’s equal parts a whimper and a growl. The woman kneels on the edge of the mattress, trailing her fingers along Allie’s leg over the blanket.

“Not surprised you don’t recognize me. Had this pretty face hidden behind a helmet on our last encounter. But maybe you’ll figure it out when I tell you that on the day I died, you were dressed like a pirate straight out of a Disney ride. You and your friends boarded our ship, and thanks to you, I ended up overboard. I wasn’t someone anyone cared about enough to save, so I drowned.”

“...I killed you…” Allie whispers.

“Yeah, you did.”

“...You...you were holding Sean and Craig prisoner. We had to get them back.”

“Yeah, not really interested in excuses. Honestly, I find your reasoning totally understandable. I’m also probably not the only rank-and-file Arachnid you killed without regretting it.” Her hand is trailing further up Allie’s thigh now as she leans forward. “...I don’t want revenge because I think I was right and you were wrong. I want it because you killed me. And that’s just the kind of thing that needs to be answered for. I suppose if I were still dead, I wouldn’t even care. But somehow...I’m not.”

Allie’s only answer is a strangled cry of pain. It’s probably another contraction, but it makes me try to sit up sharply, only to be forced down again by a flare of pain in my shoulder that knocks the breath out of me. The woman grasps the blanket and yanks it back, exposing Allie’s naked lower body. My heart wedges in my throat as she recoils, her expression twisting in pain and terror.

“Stop!” I shriek. The woman ignores me as she grasps my friend’s knees and forces them apart.

“Just as I thought. Little parasite is probably about ready to emerge. The question now is how to play this.” The blade in her hand flashes menacingly as she brings it to hover between Allie’s legs. “I could cut it out right here. Or reach in and yank it out and brain it against the wall.”

“No...please…”

“Leave her alone!” I plead. “Please don’t hurt her!”

“Gigi, stop!” The male voice from earlier apparently belongs to the man who was slumped outside the bedroom door. The room is suddenly brighter, and when I realize his hands are engulfed in flames, it hits me who he is.

The woman--Gigi--turns to raise an eyebrow at Caleb. “Really? You’re going to threaten me with fire in an enclosed space like this? You think you can burn me without burning up this bitch or her crotchfruit?”

“I might be reckless enough to try.”

“No you’re not. I know you well enough, Caleb. You’re a weasly, immature anarchist. But you have a soft spot for kids. You always have. And you don’t want a repeat of the DMV again. You don’t ever want to come that close to burning a kid alive again.”

Caleb clenches his fists, lowering them slightly, but the flames don’t go out.

“...You’re right. I don’t.” He raises his head, smirking. “...So I’ll let someone else worry about taking you out.”

A terrible noise drowns out whatever response Gigi might be making, a deafening cacophony of twisting, groaning metal, splintering wood, and crumbling masonry. I instinctively curl in on myself, screwing my eyes shut as a blast of icy air washes over me. Even as the noise fades, I don’t let my eyes open again until I hear a familiar voice.

“Nice of you two to join the party,” Tahira says blithely. “How did you find me?”

I open my eyes and crane my neck to take in the scene through a slowly settling cloud of dust. Tahira--or Dragonness, I guess I should call her while she’s in costume--has Gigi by the throat and pressed against a wall with one hand, held up so her toes are barely touching the floor. It looks like she decided to rip the entire window out of the wall to get inside, frame and all. Talos and Minuet are in the doorway, with Minuet holding Stonewall captive in a shimmering time field.

“Got an anonymous tip that you might need help,” Minuet explains. “Kinda seemed like a trap, but also too much fun to sit out.”

“We’ll probably want to stake out the perimeter once we’re clear here.” Dragonness turns her masked gaze to me and Allie in turn. “How’re you two holding up?”

“Th-think we’ve been better…” I manage to croak. “...Is...is Varyyn…?”

“He’s not too far behind,” she assures me. “Jake and Michelle are with him. And Sean, Estela, and Rebecca.”

“...Jake…?” Allie whimpers.

“He’s coming. So you two just hang tight for a few minutes. In the meantime, Marci, can you connect me to emergency dispatch? Get the coordinates for this place ready for them, too.”

Michelle

The sounds Varyyn heard as the call from Diego was cut off finally convinced us to let Tahira suit up and fly ahead. Luckily, by that point, Iris had reached us, and it was simple enough for her to connect with Marci in order to keep the rest of us on the right path.

We arrive at the abandoned house to find a fresh gaping hole in one wall. Surprisingly, we also find Minuet outside, holding two figures face down on the grass in front of her in a shimmering time field. Light pours through the hole in the wall--and unmistakeable cries of pain.

“...Alodia!” Jake picks up speed, sprinting toward the door, Varyyn close on his heels. Iris has already flitted in through the hole.

“Emergency services are on the way,” Minuet tells me. “Dragonness has gone after Caleb and Talos is inside with Alodia and Diego!”

“Caleb was…?” I shake my head. “No, never mind. Are you all right out here?”

“Wouldn’t object to you sending the bronze idiot to give me a hand. Can’t hold these assholes indefinitely.”

“Understood. Thank you.”

“Oh, and watch for the canned goods in the front hallway!”

Sean, Estela, Rebecca, and I make it to the front door and pick our way over the scattered cans before following the light and noise to the bedroom at the end of the hall. Jake and Varyyn are already there, cradling their respective spouses in their arms. They both look to be in bad shape. Unfortunately, I am only one doctor, and at a glance, it’s pretty clear that Alodia needs my help first. I strongly suspect Diego would agree with me, too. Jake looks fearfully at me as I approach.

“She feels like she’s on fire…”

I kneel beside her, giving her a quick once-over glance. The degrading bandage on her lower back doesn’t escape my notice, nor does the faint, foul odor wafting off it. It looks like sweat has been wearing away at the medical tape. But that’s not my primary concern at the moment. I quickly tie my hair back, securing it at the nape of my neck, and open my bag. I need hand sanitizer, and a fresh pair of vinyl gloves.

“Iris, what’s the medical report?”

“Alodia’s temperature is one-hundred two degrees Fahrenheit. Pulse is one-hundred thirty. Rapid respiration, BP is 90/60. Staphylococcus aureus infection is detected. She is also in advanced labor. Cervix is dilated nine centimeters. Fetal heart rate is 149. Frank breech position is detected. No signs of fetal distress.”

I can feel my own heart pounding frantically against my ribs as I pull on my gloves, but I manage to keep the tremor out of my voice as I respond. “Thank you, Iris.”

“What does that all mean?” Jake asks anxiously.

“The baby is doing fine,” I reply with practiced calm. “Alodia has an infection that will need to be dealt with, but the priority now is going to be getting the baby out. Iris, what’s the report on Diego?”

She rattles off his vitals, and her assessment of his condition: mild hypothermia, mild dehydration, anterior dislocation of the shoulder.

“Rebecca, do you know how to stabilize a dislocated shoulder?”

“Yeah, I’ll get on that.”

“Thanks. There are cold packs in my bag. Should help with the pain for now. We’ll hold off oral rehydration as long as his symptoms stay mild in case he needs sedation for reduction. Alodia? Can you look at me, sweetie?” It clearly takes effort, but Alodia lifts her head off Jake’s shoulder and meets my gaze. I smile. “Good girl. I’m gonna help you through this, okay? But I’ll level with you that I’m a little outside of my wheelhouse. So I’m just going to make sure I’ve got someone over my shoulder to guide me. Sean, I need you to get my phone out of my pocket, and I’ll tell you the number to call.”

Sean does as I tell him, setting the phone on speaker beside me once it’s ringing. It’s barely two rings before I hear a voice on the other end.

“Northbridge General, Labor and Delivery.”

“This is Dr. Michelle Nguyen. I need to speak to the nearest OBGYN, midwife, or L&D nurse. Tell them I’m in an abandoned house with a mother in labor and the baby is presenting breech. I’ve got EMS en route, but it’s not likely they’ll make it before she delivers and I could use a little advice.”

“Understood, doctor. Someone will be with you in just a sec.”

Jake

I don’t understand most of what’s said between Michelle and whoever she got a hold of at the hospital. Maybe I’d understand a little better if I paid more attention, but I can’t think about that right now. All I can think about is Alodia. All I’ve wanted for...how many days or maybe weeks now is to have her back in my arms safe and sound. Now she’s back in my arms, but she’s not safe. Her skin is searing hot against mine and she’s drenching in sweat, even though she’s shaking like she’s been out naked in a snowstorm. I try to steady her against me as she whimpers in pain, her teeth rattling in her mouth.

“She’s shaking like a leaf, Maybelline. Should we get her warm or something?”

“We’re gonna keep her cozy as we can,” Michelle agrees. “But shaking during labor is pretty common. She’s doing a lot of hard work here.”

“What can I do? How can I help?”

“She’s the one to ask there,” Michelle replies, gently but pointedly. I feel a little stupid, but my embarrassment is fleeting. I look down at my wife’s flushed face, bringing a hand up to cup her cheek.

“What do you need, Princess? What can I do? I’ll do anything.”

She brings a hand up to wrap her fingers around mine. “...Don’t leave me…” Her voice is weak, but the message is clear. I kiss her hot, sweat-salted forehead, and bring mine to rest against it.

“I’m right here. I ain’t leaving you for a second. I swear. ...Don’t you leave me, either, okay?”

The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them, and their implication hangs heavy in the air around my head. I’ve been imagining my daughter’s birth for months, letting so many scenarios play out in my head like movie scenes. I knew it would hurt Alodia. I thought she’d have the option of pain relief, but I knew I’d be holding her hand through some rough moments. I didn’t always imagine the perfect happy ending, either, with River healthy and perfect in our arms. I let myself imagine complications. C-sections, River having trouble breathing. I even let myself face the possibility of a stillbirth or some other tragedy. Maybe it’s just my military background, but I felt like I had to at least acknowledge the worst-case scenarios. But now that the moment is here, I realize that I never did face the worst of the worst possibilities. I never accepted the possibility that Alodia would die in childbirth.

I look over at Michelle, knowing she heard what I said. She meets my eyes. Her gaze is steady, but there’s concern that can’t be totally disguised.

“...You said the baby was doing fine...” I murmur. My emphasis is subtle. I can’t ask the question out loud. I don’t want to ask it where Alodia can hear me. I don’t want to ask it at all.

“Alodia’s vitals are concerning,” Michelle confirms. “Most likely due to the infection. But that can’t be dealt with until the baby is born. We have to focus on what we can do here and now. Alodia, it’s almost time, so we’re gonna get you into a good position. We’re going to try getting you upright since the baby’s coming breech. Sean, grab my phone, please. Rebecca, please grab that folding chair by the desk. Nurse Michealson, are you still there?”

“Still here, doctor,” the man’s voice on the other end assures her. “Let me know when you’ve got the mother in position.”

I feel Michelle is a photographer, posing us for the world’s weirdest family portrait as she directs us to get Alodia in position. I’m instructed to sit on the chair with my knees apart and let Alodia straddle my lap so I can support her from behind and help her keep her legs open. Sean and Estela kneel on either side, supporting her feet and ankles and giving her something to push against. I wrap one arm around her chest, taking her hand with the other.

“I’m right here, Princess,” I murmur into her ear. “I gotcha.”

“Jake…” She whimpers, her free hand shaking as she reaches back to caress my cheek with sweat-damp fingertips. “...She won’t die. River won’t die…”

“You’re right. She won’t. She’s gonna be just fine.”

“...I’m scared…”

“I know. But you got this. You’re not alone. We’re right here. You can do this.”

“Okay, Alodia, this is it.” Michelle grips Alodia’s knees, smiling encouragingly. “You’re almost through this. Remember you’ve got millions of years of instinct behind you, so don’t be afraid to trust it.”

Alodia nods, and I feel a wave of calm washing over both of us. There’s no more choice in the matter. Nature has taken over, swept up my wife and child, and there’s nothing for Alodia, River, or me to do but let the currents carry us to shore. I brush my wife’s ear with my lips.

“I love you more than anything, Alodia Rose Chandler,” I whisper.

“Deep breath, Alodia,” Michelle instructs, her eyes never leaving Alodia’s face. “And...push.”

I close my eyes as Alodia goes rigid in my arms, her hands squeezing me for dear life. I grip back, speaking whatever encouraging words I can come up with into her ear. It’s not like I have to think hard to come up with them. I’m barely thinking at all as I tell her that she’s the strongest, bravest person I’ve ever known, that I love her with my whole soul, that I’m right here with her, that I’m never going to leave her. I can’t take her pain away, and I can’t labor for her, but I’m riding the currents of it right beside her, responding to keep her feeling secure and protected. She pushes. She rests. Push. Rest. She stiffens with a weak cry, tears rolling down her cheeks.

“It hurts…”

“I know, Princess. It sucks, but I’m told having a baby tends to kinda smart.”

“Bottom’s getting ready to deliver, Alodia,” Michelle says. “It’s going to sting for a moment or two, but then the worst will be over. Need you to pull back a little, just small, gentle pushes.”

Alodia gathers her strength, and I try to add mine to hers. I dare to glance down, and catch a glimpse of tiny feet and legs. Then, a moment later, she’s here. My daughter is here, shrieking her little lungs out like she’s come out ready to fight the whole world.

Something halfway between a laugh and a sob tumbles out of me as I look down at the furious creature flailing and howling on the blanket at Michelle’s knees while she clamps and cuts the umbilical cord. She’s like something out of a horror movie, wrinkled and wet with blood and god knows what else, but she’s so goddamn beautiful. I kiss my wife’s cheek over and over, rocking her as gently as I can manage with all the emotion coursing through my veins.

“You did it, Princess. She’s here and she’s perfect…Princess…?” Her grip on my hand has begun to slacken. And just like that, elation turns to terror as my wife goes limp in my arms. “Alodia!”

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be-ready-when-i-say-go · 4 years

Text

In Sorrow and In Joy-Part 1: Fault

Luke learns the hard way what it means to be a dad and how to keep his family safe and together. Dad!Luke with a South Asian Reader. This is a collaborative experience with A Family of Five.

CW: Over the course of this series, themes of racism and prejudice on the basis of religion are present. Please read or skip as necessary.

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No one has my permission to repost my work of fiction. This includes translations as well.

__________________________

Luke wants to vomit. It hits him hard and fast in his gut how much he’s not ready to be a father. But there you are, staring at him, the fear clouding your brown eyes. He can’t bolt. Even though he definitely wants to. He can’t. He’s not ready to be a father. He wanted kids, but much later in life. When the band wasn’t in a whirlwind of touring and music. When he felt like he could breathe for more than three seconds.

“It’s going to be okay,” he says. “It’s going to be alright.”

“We’ve barely been married a month,” you whisper. “Are we ready for a kid?”

No, he’s not even sure in the slightest if he’s ready for a kid. But here you are, hands trembling with the pregnancy test. He has no choice but to be ready. “We’re going to make it. We can do this.” Even the sound of his own voice betrays him. He wants to be strong for you. Just because he wants that doesn’t mean it will happen of course.

Over the course of the pregnancy, Luke’s fear subsides. It’s not as bad as he thinks. Yes, it’s hard. You have to cut back on the coffee and that makes you a little grumpy. Sometimes you get snappy, but he finds it endearing. Luke gives up alcohol to help with morale. Luke watches his baby grows everyday. You start glowing; though it’s hard to keep up with the dietary restrictions. But Luke’s there. He’s right there at every appointment, he’s there to rub your feet; he starts cooking more for the two of you. He sets up with nursery with Calum’s help. You direct the both of them.

Birth is taxing, your body feels like it’s been hit by a mack truck. But you keep going. Luke’s there, holding your hand for every push. He brushes back you hair from your sweaty forehead. He whispers in your ear how strong you are, how great you’re doing, how it’s only one more push. Then finally Zahra’s scream pierces the chaotic hospital room and you’re body is filled relief. She’s here; she’s placed on your chest. It’s strange, this tiny baby--yours and Luke’s. Your heart swells.

She’s here.

__ Luke’s not home. He said he would be; he said he would work late tonight but be back home well before the wee hours of the morning. The album is a slow, painstaking process for you. Luke alway seems to be upstairs, writing, playing, gone out with the boys. You are alone, bouncing, feeding, cooking, changing diapers. You think you just need patience; give him some time to adjust. The two of you have a child, though. How much time does he need? You can’t do it alone. Ra cries in your arms. You’ve tried giving her a bottle. You’ve changed her diaper. She still cries. You don’t want to call Luke; if he doesn’t want to be here, you’re not going to bother him. But nothing is working. Nothing in the slightest.

His phone rings, then a second time, then a third. Then a fourth. “Hey, baby,” Luke answers.

Ra cries. You sigh. “When are you coming home? You said you’d be home by now.”

“Shit, I’m so sorry! I’m on my way. Does Zahra need anything?”

“You can’t drive if you’ve been drinking.”

“No, no, I haven’t been.”

Luke arrives home ten minutes later. Zahra’s not screaming anymore, but she’s still fussy. “Oh, how’s my sweetie?” he coos, picking her up of your arms. She calms immediately. “Did you just need Daddy? I’m sorry I didn’t come home earlier. I’m so sorry,” he whispers into her ear.

__ Zahra giggles, clapping her hands. You coo at her, brushing a hand over her hair. “Yeah, is someone excited?”

She responds with another laugh. Holding out another spoonful of the applesauce, you make some airplane noises. Applesauce is her current favorite snacks right now. You glance up to the clock, almost afternoon. Luke hasn’t surfaced yet. But judging by his inability to almost walk last night, you’re not shocked.

Sometimes Luke does well. He’s present; he’s here. He’s playing with Zahra, talking to her. He’s changing every other diaper. He’s cooking for all of you. Then sometimes he’s still acting like a teenager. He’s coming home drunk; or he’s staying out at all ungodly hours. Tomorrow is Zahra’s first birthday. There’s a big party planned, but there’s still so much to do today. You’re not even sure Luke’s going to be sober enough to remember his own name.

Just as you scrape the bottom of the little cup, giving Ra the last scoop Luke descends the stair. He’s squinting, rubbing at his temples. It would be so easy to start an argument with him. He’d cave easily because he’s head is no doubt pounding. Instead you point out the water and advil. “Welcome to the land of the living,” you say.

All three of you manage to get the rest of the things for the party, the pitchers, streamers, plates and ribbons. Luke even convinces you that you need a Instagram wall, so you two discuss fabrics to put on the wall. Luke pulls down a soft pink fabric with crowns all over it. “Because Zahra’s a little princess.”

The sentence makes you smile. But when you look at him, you see the tight skin, the sunken eyes. He is visibly still hung over. The soft moment shatters just as quickly as he comes around. Later in the night, Luke’s finished putting Ra down for bed when he crawls into your shared bedroom. He rests his head on your chest, wrapping his arms around you. “I’m so sorry,” he says quietly.

Luke knows he’s spiraling. He know he’s pushing away from you. He wishes he wasn’t so terrified. But he can’t help but feel a little cheated. He loves Zahra but she came so fast. A little bit of Luke’s youth feels snatched away. He’s trying to snatch it back, chase it down. But he’s hurting you.

“I need you here, Luke. I need you to be here and if you can’t do that, I can’t stay here.”

Luke’s heart seizes. Tears are starting. The back of his head throbs as the hot water falls down his cheeks. “Please don’t leave me. Please. I can’t lose you two.”

“Then act like it.”

And he does until six months after Zahra’s second birthday. When he does come home he reeks of booze. Sometimes you don’t see him for two days. He’s spiraling. You can’t do this. You can’t fix him, baby him and raise an actual kid. You’ve asked Calum and his wife, Ra’s godparents, to take her for the weekend. You need to have this conversation with him with no interuptions. They happily take the giggly baby for a couple days.

When Luke comes home, he spots Calum’s wife with his baby. He knows it’s bad. He rushes over, pulling Ra into his chest. “Hey, princess,” he smiles. She babbles back to him. “Going over to Uncle Cal’s for the weekend?” he asks Ra, but looks to Calum’s wife.

“C’mon, Ra, let’s go baby girl,” she says taking the girl back.

Luke’s heart is in his ass. He stomach threatens to pour out every bit of his lunch and every ounce of tea he drank while recording vocals. With one hand on the doorknob, Luke thinks about just driving away from the house. This has been a long time coming. He’s fucked up too many time. He wants to stop, he really does. But being a parent terrifies him. How can he take care of someone else when he can barely take care of himself? How can he expect you to put up with his bullshit?

Instead of running, Luke inhales deeply before releasing it. He turns the knob, pushing the door open. You sit at the kitchen counter, hands folded over a manila envelope. Tears are in your eyes. He can see them streaking your face. He’s fucked up. When he approaches you, he reaches for the pen. “I’m sorry to do this,” you cry. “I am so fucking sorry.”

His chest hurts, eyes clouding up with tears. Luke shakes his head. “There’s no need for you to be sorry. It’s my fault. I didn’t clean up my act.”

“I love you, please know that. I love you to the ends of the earth. But I’m thinking about Zahra. My past, all the shit that I went through.”

Luke strokes your arm, voice cracking as he speaks, “I know you are. That’s what makes you such a great Mum, and person.”

“Fuck, I’m so sorry.”

Luke kisses your forehead, the top of your head, arm sliding around your shoulders. “It’s my fault. Don’t cry, baby, please. Not over the likes of me.”

Your head falls into the crook of his shoulder, your face a mess of tears and shot. He rubs your shoulders. “I’ll go get help. I’ll clean up my act. Don’t give up on me for forever. I’ll sign these papers. But please, please, don’t give up on me. Let me still be in her life. Please. Give me another shot in the future.”

“I could never take her away from you fully. That would be horrid.”

Luke pulls the envelope from underneath your arms. “I’m not going to fight you. Let me just have a lawyer look over this. But I promise I’m going to go to help. I promise you, baby. I promise.” His blue eyes are so full of tears. You nod. You’ll give him a second chance.

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utilitycaster · 5 years

Note

Your fav character from each class in all the actual plays you’ve watched?

THE BEST QUESTION (if hard). I’m only counting regular PCs here; see the end for some guest/NPC/one-shot mentions. As you can see I love basically all characters but I do have my favorites.

Barbarian: there is a high potential, now that Ashley is back for good, that Yasha will win this next year but for now Gorgug and his sweet awkwardness and confused attempts to find his dad wins. (some other good barbarians: Grog, Beryl from Relics and Rarities who was a. kind of a stoner and b. an absolute delight and c. a cool depiction of path of the ancestral guardian, and Sir Fitzroy Maplecourt, sweet crepe loving failure)

Bard: I love Fig, but I have to go Scanlan. You know that art piece of the Vecna battle that’s overlaid with the All Work No Play “what would the worst character be” line? Yeah. From “I’m snoring after having sex” to “I was saving it for Vax”. You just can’t beat that. (some other good bards: Annabella from Relics and Rarities, Misty from Dimension 20)

Cleric: this is probably the hardest category (shout out to a lot of clerics. Jester, Kingston, and Kristen are tied for second place) but I think I have to go with Caduceus. I love how much he sees of everyone else and how little we know of him. I love how not-so-secretly judgemental he is. I love his bone flute. I love that he’s quietly trying to save his dying home, and perhaps find family that might be dead. Someone hug him for me. (I would like to recognize Pike and Merle of course, as well as Efink Murderdeath here, and while I’m only 7 episodes in I think Zolf is already my favorite of RQG. )

Druid: Keyleth. I feel like TAZ is at a disadvantage because they’re so early on in Graduation, but also I love the Firbolg but I am not sure a druid will ever surpass Keyleth, with all her messy awkwardness and genuine desire to do good at any cost. (shout out to Ricky Huckster for being a really unique take on the druid, Lillith from Escape from the Bloodkeep for being a great wine mom, and to Kugrash who is currently ripping my heart out)

Fighter: I’m surprising myself here but the recent developments with Fabian Seacaster have put him in the forefront, I think because his story is still ongoing and because I’m a sucker for an arrogant jock suddenly confronting mortality and failure. I do still love Percival De Rolo a lot though. (shout out to Magnus Burnsides who is good at everything, and Veros the O.G. Himbo from Relics and Rarities)

Monk: Beau. This is another case of like, I love Sofia Bicicleta too, but Marisha Ray has some kind of genius for playing female characters that really tap into like, things that many women I think feel but don’t know how to express (at least, I, a woman, feel these things and don’t know how to express them). Beau is such a complicated abrasive character who feels things deeply, and who has genuinely tried and succeeded in changing. She’s so dynamic and wonderful and I love her to bits.

Paladin: Vax. I wrote a whole piece about my experience of listening to CR campaign 1 episode 57 that I never published or posted. I think there’s something deeply profound and beautiful about sticking to an oath that you didn’t ever think you’d choose, and to a promise you fell into. (also, spoilers but Fjord’s going to be my choice for Warlock so I cover that there even though one of my favorite things about him is his switch to Paladin). (shout out, of course, to Ricky Matsui)

Ranger: Vex. Due to some valid and some invalid complaints about the ranger class few people play it, which is a shame because the revised ranger options are pretty great (Horizon Walker is amazing, I say as an admitted fan of weird planar shit) and because like, Aragorn was my favorite LOTR character. But yeah, everything I’ve said about Keyleth and Beau applies to Vex, the D&D character I think I relate most to despite my irl stats not matching hers at all (I do not have 17 Charisma). The imposter syndrome, the need to appear that everything is under control, the sibling loyalty, the stubbornness, the quiet leadership - it’s all so perfect and so unique and I love her very much. (Sokhbarr was a fun take though)

Rogue: put Vax as Paladin so I could nominate Riz as my favorite rogue (and again, I love Nott and enjoy what I’ve seen of Argo, and to be fair, Sasha seems very good as well) but I think the inquisitive subclass is so cool and Riz has such a wonderful arc. Also, goblin with gun is great but goblin high schooler with gun is straight up genius.

Sorcerer: a very rare class, tbh, with Pete getting it by default. He is indeed a fascinating character though, and tying his sorcery into the mythology of the world is a pretty brilliant DM move. (I also am very into Hamid thus far, not in the least because I love halflings)

Warlock: Fjord. I liked Fjord from the start, and even when he was being an ass during the pirate arc found him relatable. I think it might be my background as a bard player that makes me love this disaster who survived for years on just a high constitution and being really good at talking and playing roles; I also love someone who isn’t the greatest leader but falls into it, and someone with control issues working through it (see also: Vex, Percy) And finally, I don’t know if Travis was telling the truth about him being lawful good but he genuinely does want to make things better for people and he takes responsibility very seriously. (obviously, I also really liked Leland, and while I think of both Fig and Sofia as primarily of their main classes of bard and monk, they are cool as warlocks. I get why Emily Axford keeps gunning for Hexblade).

Wizard: Caleb. Given all the other sources of magic it’s always fascinating to see why someone becomes a wizard specifically, and I also like how complex Caleb is - not just the trauma, though that’s part, but the humor and the versatility. (Adaine was a close runner-up though, and Taako was my favorite of THB but is a little too goofy to be a favorite).

Artificer: I mean, obviously Tary.

NPCs and guests, with less commentary:

Barbarian: gonna go with Lionel the True Polymorphed Duck here.

Bard: Hazel Copperpot, she of the 1930s radio accent

Cleric: again very difficult, but then again, not so difficult. Lieve’tel was great.

Druid: Nila, the sweet and calming presence in our hour of need.

Fighter: oh god I don’t know if I can choose between Keg, bisexual dwarven disaster, and Brian David Gilbert’s Hargis, awkward goliath theater kid.

Monk: Ferriwen Breeze, who I do hope shows up again because she was my favorite Darrington Brigade character and I really love Genasi; also Expositor Dairon, natch.

Paladin: few people play paladins as guests which is weird. I do like Kerrek, and I do like Arkhan, but like, Kima, clearly.

Ranger: Sandralynn Faeth, hands down. A wonderful NPC.

Rogue: I do love Cathilda, and I do love Twiggy, but I laughed about the Owlbear for the entire Darrington Brigade one shot.

Sorcerer: I mean...it has to be Gilmore, right? Calianna is great but no one can beat Gilmore.

Warlock: Zahra, who also, incidentally, is the only non-Hexblade Warlock who’s shown up. I mean hexblade is objectively amazing but Zahra is too.

Wizard: there have been many wizard NPCs across games and it was a very difficult choice but who else is graceful, unendingly kind and patient, and reliable in all situations? Allura Vyesoren is the wizard you wish your wizard could be. Yussa and Essek and Lup and Arthur Aguefort and Barry and Lyra and Ranier and far more wizard NPCs and guests are all wonderful in their own ways but like, did you think you could come for Matt Mercer’s self insert? you could not.

#d&d #critical role #relics and rarities #dimension 20 #TAZ #Anonymous

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grayintogreen · 2 years

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Since I hit 200 fics posted to AO3, I thought I'd do the ABC's of fic meme, because I'm only four letters off from having the full set and I'm not entirely sure WHEN I might fill those letters. If I do, I'll just do another one with DIFFERENT FICS.

Fun facts: I have 15 fics that start with "and" and 9 that start with "this."

Given CR is my main fandom and makes up the bulk of my fics, I tried to make them all CR unless I couldn't (note: I could) and stuck to one-shots only (if I could- note: i could). If at all applicable, I chose the ones that I love that don't have as much attention because why not circulate them a bit?

I'm not apologizing for how many are Tombtakers-related. Those are my children and also have the least attention because... I'm fixated on minor characters.

OKAY LET'S DO THIS.

A: all the things we gave up for the things we could gain. (Creecien) I have been told that this fic actively punches you in the face and steals your lunch money.

B: born for the scythe and the thorn. (Jayne Merriweather) Most of my B fics broke the threshold of "a decent amount of attention." This one was written for Critmas last year and I can't even remember if I actually let it hit the main tag. It's just a little Jayne backstory fic.

C: cut my teeth on the bread of pure temptation. (Essek & Lucien) This is one of my only Essek POV fics. Just a random meeting between Essek and the Tombtakers in the style of the Last Temptation of Christ, because I'm a pretentious asshole.

D: don't be chosen- make the choice to choose. (Kingsley & Orly) Another fic I wrote for last year's Critmas. A little conversation between Orly and King.

E: every dream i dream is founded in what came before. (Lucien) I know I link this one a lot and I didn't want to do it again, but it's one of my favorite Lucien character studies.

F: for the laughter in her eyes, i'd be a madman to refuse. (Lucien & Jester) This one actually broke my kudos threshold but shhh. I love it.

G: give me black cat bones as the clock strikes thirteen. (Tombtakers) A Tombtakers caper-fic that I love dearly.

H: he'll never know how much you've done. (Creecien) This one is set in the same timeline as this church takes no conversions but it doesn't require you to have read it. It's just some weird Creecien h/c with the usual Lucien bastard shit.

I: it's all swords and spades so cut me slowly. (Kash & Zahra) a rare CR1 fic from me. I just love writing Kash POV.

J: just tell me i'm allowed to stay right where you are. (Creecien) LOOK THIS WAS THE ONLY J FIC. I'm not picking the Creecien fics on purpose. (mostly)

K: the king lies bleeding. This one is, admittedly, the ninth part of an overarching fic series so it means nothing to most people unless you just wanna read Lucien getting dom-bombed by Cree for being reckless while Caleb is just like "that's hot." It's my only K fic okay.

L: life is not a game that has a clear and present winner. (Beau & Molly) A little Beau and Molly friendship fic with Molly character development.

M: may your princes understand you (may your wolves get out alive). (Jester & Artagan) This one also beat my kudos threshold but it was the lowest of the CR M's. And I still love this fic- the villain of it was the OC that Ira replaced in OUADYA.

N: never trust the tenor of the skies. ANOTHER FIC FROM EARTHQUAKE WEATHER. IT WAS THE ONLY N. Whatever man. The combination redemption arc/corruption arc is great. You just probably don't want to come in on the middle. (also yes I know i got the god wrong from Caleb's backstory, but it's an AU)

O: once you see the midway, you've already lost. (Jester and Artagan) I think we're seeing a theme in what I write. This one is a cute little thing I wrote for Critmas. I love writing Artagan interacting with other fey.

P: prayed at your altar with a pilgrim's devotion. (Creecien) Yeah, look, shut up. This one is just MEAN. And a horror story.

Q: No fic.

R: remember me as something bigger than i was. (Yasha & Kingsley) Another Critmas story. I love writing stories about the Nein accepting Kingsley's decision to treat Molly like a brother and adopting him as THEIR baby brother too.

S: said the fool to his majesty dethroned. (Molly & Lucien) I was trying not to do super recent fics, but most of the S-fics were either multichapters or fics that had plenty of attention and this one was my favorite Mollymauk Week fic.

T: trapped in the walls of my skin. (Lucien) WHO WANTS TO READ A HORROR STORY ABOUT COMING BACK TO YOUR BODY USED AND VIOLATED. SURE YA DO.

U: No fic.

V: a victim that doesn't play fair. (Beau) This one was the only fic that started with v. Warnings for gladiator slavery, etc. It has a happy ending.

W: when the ice melts, will we still be skating circles?: (Creecien) This was my first Creecien fic, guys!! It's just as terrible as you'd expect of these assholes!

X: No fic.

Y: you will be the king no longer when we reach the glade. (Jester and Lucien) Every great Lucien redemption story starts with a panic attack. Also I love the reoccurring lines in this one. And also star Molly.

Z: No fic.

#critical role fic #critical role fanfic #lucien nonagon #cree deeproots #beauregard lionett #mollymauk tealeaf #jester lavorre #creecien #kingsley tealeaf #artagan

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justcallmehermione · 4 years

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Another update...

Story: Small Bump Rating: M for some delicious smut Pairings: Linzin, Tokka, and Kataang

FF.net

AO3

Chapter 9: Under Pressure

Ring! Ring! Ring! The phone started trilling, waking Tenzin from a sound sleep. He looked to the window and saw the first morning rays starting to peak in through the curtain. He saw his beautiful wife starting to stir in the bed next to him.

“I’ll get it, stay resting,” he whispered to her as he slid out of bed and crept to the kitchenette area of their apartment. He grabbed the phone and without thinking whispered, “I’m sorry, but it is too early in the morning to be speaking on the phone. I’m still trying to sleep. Try calling back later today.” And he hung the phone up without waiting for a reply.

“Who was that?” Lin mumbled sleepily.

“No clue,” he replied while sliding back into bed, “I told them it was too early for phone calls and that they were very rude for calling so early and interrupting my amazing wife’s beauty rest.”

Lin laughed and snuggled close to the now prone Tenzin, “I’m sure you did, tough guy.”

Tenzin pulled Lin close to him and kissed her forehead, “Well I’m not wrong. Now let’s stay in bed a while longer. I can’t leave you two yet.”

Lin nuzzled closer, “I hope you never leave.” They both smiled and continued to rest until the sun was fully up.

…

“Well I’m off to visit Mom for lunch!” Lin called to Tenzin as he was in the bathroom finishing getting ready.

“Enjoy, love!” he replied.

Lin headed the few blocks to the RCPD headquarters where she agreed to meet her mother so they could get a bite to eat and catch up. The apartment wasn’t far from the police headquarters, but the cold breeze wafting through the city air made Lin regret the outdoor exercise. Winter may just be starting, but it was not shy at making its presence known. She tugged her coat tighter around her and dipped her mouth lower in her jacket to help cover more of her face from the cold sting.

As Lin rounded the final corner that would bring her to RCPD HQ, a newspaper stall caught her eye. She spotted a photo from her and Tenzin’s wedding on the front page of one of the papers sitting in a pile on the cart. Lin stepped closer and focused on that paper. Bold letters on the latest copy of The United Republic read: NEW AIRBENDER ON THE WAY with a subheading that said: Newlyweds Tenzin, Master Airbender, and Lin Beifong, RCPD detective are expecting their first born, the next member of the extinct Air Nomad race.

Lin snatched a copy of the paper and growled. The young man working the booth chided her and said she needed to pay for that now it was ruined. She tossed some Yuan on the counter and stomped away, seething. She couldn’t believe what she was reading. As far as she knew, only her closest friends and family members knew about the pregnancy, after all she was barely showing yet, despite the end of the first trimester approaching. Lin also could not believe the journalist’s choice of headline.

“New Airbender on the Way…” she murmured to herself, “I can’t believe they would be so bold to put that. I don’t even know if the baby is a boy or girl yet, and they’re already pegging the future of Aang’s race on him or her.” Tears started forming in her eyes again as all the pressure she’s felt on and off throughout the pregnancy started to resurface in her mind.

Lost in her thoughts, Lin didn’t realize that someone had approached her until she heard, “Now, now, little badgermole, I know you’ve been away on your honeymoon for some time now, but there’s no need for tears to show how much you’ve missed me.”

Lin turned to see her mother had left the building and found her standing dumbstruck on the sidewalk. “Mom,” she managed while gesturing to the newspaper in her hands, “Have you seen this?”

Toph took a step closer to her daughter and said, “Jeez, have you been hanging around Sokka more? You know I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

Lin sniffled, a small smile playing on her lips, “I know, I was just trying to joke to make myself feel a little better. It’s a newspaper and its headline is just, absolutely ridiculous!”

“They usually are, that’s why I never bother to peruse the periodicals,” Toph stated dryly.

Lin rolled her eyes, “Very funny, Mother. This one is about me, or rather my baby.” She absentmindedly brought one of her hands to rest on her slightly protruding abdomen. She continued, “They’re already claiming the baby will be an air bender and that Aang’s legacy and by extension the legacy of the Air Nomads rests entirely on me producing an airbender.” The tears started to reach her cheeks again.

Toph reached out and squeezed her daughter’s shoulder and tried to comfort her, “Well now that is completely unfair. The only one who should be planning this baby’s future is her award-winning, master bender of a grandmother, Toph Beifong.”

Lin chuckled a bit and said, “Mom, please. This is a really sore subject for me.”

“Okay, okay,” Toph conceded, “Let’s go get some meat and noodles and talk about this.”

…

“So, what does Tenzin have to say about all this?” Toph asked her daughter. They were now seated in one of their favorite restaurants, enjoying a delicious lunch of grilled meat and spicy noodles, their two favorite foods.

“I don’t know if he’s seen the headlines at all yet…” Lin began.

“Not about the newspaper, I mean about the baby. Has he said anything to make you think he would resent you or even the baby if she isn’t an airbender? Because if he has you know I’ll come over and---”

“Mother, please,” Lin interrupted, “No, on the contrary, Tenzin has shown that he will do nothing but love and cherish both me and the baby no matter what.”

“Bleck,” Toph stuck her tongue out, “Hearing about my daughter and her supportive husband is giving me the oogies.”

“Very funny, Mom. But I’m being serious here. Tenzin and I have already talked about this. We both just want a healthy baby. It’s gender nor it’s bending abilities will affect how much love we will show this baby,” Lin assured her mom, and herself with these words.

“Well then, you know how I feel about other people’s opinions. They can shove it up their--” Toph started to say, but was interrupted by the presence she now felt at the table. She turned her face to the newcomer and said, “Perfect timing, waiter. We would like the check, please.”

“I’m s-sorry, b-but I’m not your w-waiter,” a young man who looked visibly nervous replied to Toph. Lin’s eyes narrowed and stared at him. She couldn’t quite place the face, but she was almost positive she’s seen him somewhere before.

“Unless you’re here to report a crime or ask for an autograph, then I think you best be moving on, kid,” Toph told the young man firmly.

He took a deep breath before he began, “My n-name is Jeong and I’m a reporter for--”

“That’s enough. Like I said before, unless you want to report a crime, you need to leave my daughter and me alone while we’re trying to eat lunch,” Toph interrupted him.

“I’m so sorry,” Jeong cried out while bowing to the women, “It’s just, I’m trying to become a more well known reporter and getting the inside scoop on Ms. Beifong’s pregnancy would really help me.”

Lin stood up, “Sorry, Jeong, but if there’s one thing you should know about me, it’s that I don’t want my life broadcast to anybody and everybody. My pregnancy is my business and no one else’s.”

Jeong persisted, “Yes, but you’re carrying the next Airbending Master! This is huge news and the public would be so pleased.”

Toph slammed Yuans on the table to pay for their lunch and said, “I’ve heard enough. Let’s go Lin!”

Lin stared daggers into Jeong and left him with one final statement, “Why don’t you take this story back to wherever it is you work: My child is going to be whoever he or she wants to be. Only the spirits know what gifts the baby will bring to this world and all you cheap gossips need to stop trying to label him or her too early.” She stalked after her mother and joined her in the car they drove to the restaurant.

“I can’t believe that vile weasel-snake!” Lin exclaimed and punctuated it with slamming the car door.

“Easy on the car door, badgermole. This is technically city property,” Toph chided.

Lin rolled her eyes and continued her lamentation, “He must have some really confident guardian spirit to approach us like that while we’re trying to enjoy a nice lunch.”

“I’m sorry, Lin.” Toph apologized.

“Oh, please, it’s not your fault he sauntered up to us and felt the need to try to pry into my personal business,” Lin replied.

“Well, isn’t it?” Toph probed, “I mean, you are the daughter of one of the greatest living Earthbenders, who helped save the world when she was just a kid.”

“Mother, please. This isn’t time for your ego to join the conversation.”

“I’m not trying to be my confident self, I’m being serious. If you had any other mother on the planet, then things would be so different for you--” Lin glanced over at her mom. She noticed her head was drooped more than normal. Lin reached over and grabbed her mother’s hand to give it a gentle squeeze.

“Mom, even if you weren’t famous, I’d still be married to one of only two living Airbenders. I’d be all over the media, regardless,” Lin said in comfort.

Toph turned her head slightly towards Lin, “You think even if I weren’t friends with the Avatar you and Tenzin would still be married?”

Lin took a deep breath as she blinked back tears not of stress and worry, but of a deeper, stronger emotion she felt. She replied, “I’m positive that no matter what lifetime we shared or what planet we lived on, his soul and mine would always find each other and never let the other go.”

…

“And now, here’s Zahra with the latest news from the lives of the socialites of Republic City,” the voice on the radio crackled. Lin was lying on the sofa half reading a book while Tenzin stood at the kitchenette in their tiny apartment, making them a delicious dinner.

“Want me to turn it off?” Tenzin inquired.

“No, you’re busy. I can get up to change it,” Lin replied as she started to make her way to the radio.

“Thanks, Li,” the now feminine voice on the radio replied, “In today’s news, we’d like to highlight Republic City’s cutest and most romantic couple, Tenzin, Master Airbender, son of the Avatar and Lin Beifong, daughter of Police Chief and Master of Earthbending, Toph Beifong.” Lin’s hand hesitated as she reached for the dial to change the station. She hated being in the spotlight, but she had some morbid curiosity that made her wait to listen to what they had to report.

“As many of you may know by now, Ms. Beifong and Master Tenzin wasted no time while on their honeymoon and have already announced they’re expecting their very first child after just two months of wedded bliss! One of our reporters, Jeong, was fortunate enough to run into Ms. Beifong and her mother while they were out to lunch, presumably after a lovely day out shopping, preparing for the new bundle of joy headed their way. Jeong was able to get a statement from Ms. Beifong and he’s here now to share what she said. Over to you, Jeong!”

Tenzin had finished cooking and plating their food and now had his full attention on the radio as well. Lin hadn’t mentioned running into any reporters today. His brows furrowed and he waited with baited breath to hear what this Jeong person had to say. “Thanks, Zahra! That’s right, I ran into two thirds of the Beifong family today. They were both enjoying a lunch of assorted meats and spicy noodles, which after speaking with an expert on rearing and raising healthy children, I now know is not the healthiest thing for a pregnant woman to feed her baby. The meat is rather fatty and greasy and the spiciness of the noodles could give her terrible heartburn. The expert recommended she eat more fruits and vegetables going forward to ensure the baby gets all the help he needs!”

Lin rolled her eyes, “Is that really all he has to say? He needs to give me so-called advice on what to eat?”

Tenzin shrugged, “Let’s just ignore him for now. Change the channel and let’s sit and eat.”

Jeong continued on the radio, “I would also like to add that Ms. Beifong seemed to care little about the baby’s Air Nomad heritage. She stated that she would not go out of her way to ensure the child is raised in the ways of the Air Nomads and instructed to become a Master Airbender like his father and grandfather.”

“But that can’t be!” Zahra interrupted.

“Afraid so,” Jeong continued, “Now, I’m no expert on Air Nomad culture, but last time I checked, there were only two airbenders alive today and I think--” zzt. The radio went silent.

Lin spun to look at Tenzin who had silently crossed the room and ended the slander and lies being broadcasted to a couple thousand people in and around the city.

“What did you do that for!” Lin exclaimed.

“I don’t believe what that man had to say was true. At least, I hope it’s not,” Tenzin said, staring at his wife’s face, searching for any hint of how she was feeling.

“Of course it’s not true! I didn’t say anything about ignoring any part of the baby’s heritage!” she countered.

“I figured as much,” Tenzin said as he stepped closer to his wife, reaching out to give her a hug.

“I just told him to mind his P’s & Q’s and to stop making assumptions about our baby!” Lin shouted at him as she began trembling. Tenzin’s arms enveloped Lin’s frame. He held her close for a few moments as she let the anger and stress flow through her body, the tremors a reflection of the power the emotions had over her.

“I believe you, Lin,” Tenzin said slightly pulling away from his wife so he could look down at her, “I love you and I know you love our baby. I’m sure that man is just trying to spice up his story to get more listeners.”

Lin sniffled, “I just can’t believe him! Him and all the other media eel-hounds. Making up all this information about our baby.”

Tenzin started gently rubbing Lin’s back as he continued to comfort her, “I’m not sorry that you’re carrying my child, but I am sorry that this has placed you center stage for everyone to make comments about you and try to give you unwarranted advice.”

Lin nodded, “I know. I’m not sorry we’re bringing new life into this world either. I just wish circumstances were a bit different.”

“Well, why don’t we sit and eat dinner and then plan the next leg of our honeymoon world tour?” Tenzin offered, leading Lin towards the small table that had the food he prepared laid out.

“Let’s get as far from Republic City’s gossipers as possible. Why don’t we go visit Kya at the South Pole?” Lin agreed.

“As you wish, my dear,” Tenzin said before they tucked into their dinner.

#linzin #atla #lok #fan fic #fan fiction #justcallmehermione

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uglyducklingpresse · 5 years

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“WE ARE ALL SOMEWHAT COLONIZED IN OUR EXISTENCE”: JAMIE CHIANG IN CONVERSATION WITH ZAHRA PATTERSON

UDP apprentice Jamie Chiang interviewed writer and educator Zahra Patterson in February 2019 after the release of her UDP title Chronology, recent winner of the Lambda Literary Award for Lesbian Memoir/Biography. They discussed Zahra's journaling in Cape Town; her friendship with Liepollo Ranekoa, who passed away in 2012; the impact of language choice in postcolonial literature; tattoos; and more.

Taking as its starting point an ultimately failed attempt to translate a Sesotho short story into English, Chronology explores the spaces language occupies in relationships, colonial history, and the postcolonial present. It is a collage of images and documents, folding on words-that-follow-no-chronology, unveiling layers of meaning of queering love, friendship, death, and power.

Can you talk about the background of your decision to go to Cape Town to find who you are or the meaning of life? Did you find it? (In Chronology, Zahra refers to her journey to Cape Town as a search for herself.)

Yeah, I mean sometimes I get a little dramatic perhaps when I'm writing in my journal.

How old were you? How many years ago was that?

It was the end of 2009 into 2010, so I would have been in my late twenties. I feel a journal is a place to express one's ideas, but it's also a creative space. I wouldn't take myself totally seriously in everything that comes out in a journal. I think there's definitely some self-awareness of one's own—my self importance, but also the quest to find oneself is not just to be made fun of. I think it's an important concept.

How long did you stay in Cape Town?

I was there for around five weeks. As far as the decision to go, it was more spur of the moment. I was in South Africa for a wedding. My cousin got married and instead of going off traveling that far for a week, I thought I would just spend a couple of months if I had to go to that part of the world; there's no point in going for a week, so I was going to stay. I hadn't actually decided where I was going after the wedding until I got there, and Cape Town seemed to make the most sense to me.

It perhaps felt the least imperialistic to go and spend time in such a cosmopolitan, international city as opposed to going somewhere more remote. You're either a tourist or a local, whereas Cape Town is an easy city to integrate into.

I see. On page 33, you mention that you have a tattoo, and in the caption there is this word ke nonyana. What does ke nonyana mean?

It means I'm a bird.

That's the first word you spoke in Sesotho?

Yes. I found the words in Liepollo’s English-Sesotho dictionary one day, and when she came home I spoke them. It meant a lot to her that I’d engaged with her language.

If you don’t mind, could you elaborate the story behind Liepollo’s colleague’s Facebook profile picture. What happened?

It was the day she died, and his Facebook profile changed to her picture. It was an image of her. That was jarring because why somebody would put an image of a friend up, and there are very few circumstances that someone would do something like that and usually it's because they're dead. So when I saw that his Facebook picture changed to her face, it occurred to me that something terrible had happened. And I was at work at the time, so it was just very disorienting.

Sorry to hear that. Did you get your tattoo because of this?

Yeah, so I didn't have anybody to mourn with because I had met Liepollo in Cape Town and we didn't have friends in common. Actually, we had a friend in common—an American who interned at Chimurenga while I was staying with Liepollo who I met once at the house in Observatory and once for coffee in Brooklyn—but she had moved to D.C. by that time, so I didn't reach out to her. It was a very isolated mourning experience. That's kind of why I got the tattoo, just to have her with me and to have that symbol and to think of her every day. Because when you have a long distance friendship, you're not going to think of the person every day. We were in touch every few months. I don’t want to forget her due to not having a lot of people to remember who she was with, so I needed to make her memory permanent on me. I think everybody thinks about getting tattoos in this day and age. My rule for tattoos is if I want it for a full year, then I'll get it, and I've never wanted anything for a year. So it’s my only tattoo.

And ke nonyana sounds beautiful.

Thank you. I think it's beautiful also.

And on page 37 and 38, there’s an interesting conversation you had with a Muslim guy named Saed. I found some of his talk kind of sexist. What was your reaction when you were talking to him? It sounds like he's almost preaching to you, trying to change your idea about what a woman's purpose is in this world.

Exactly! But he also wasn't that; he was as if playing the role that he thought he was supposed to play and open to other ways of thinking. We're socialized beings, all of us. He wasn't terribly dogmatic. I don't think he'd been challenged too much in his way of thinking, but at the same time maybe he had because he was open to being challenged. So yeah, it was very interesting.

On page 47 to 48, you write about the panel What is the value of age and wisdom? at the Bronx Museum of Art. The five panelists are: Vinie Burrows, Boubacar Boris Diop, Yusef Komunyakaa, Achille Mbembe and Ngũgĩ wa Thiong’o. There’s a quotation from Mbembe: “If the language we use is in itself a prison...We have to put a bomb under the language. Explode language!” Could you tell us more about the context?

Achille Mbembe is a leading postcolonial theorist. I think his words are also quite poetic, so he's speaking metaphorically. The context of that part of the conversation is imperialism and language. That intellectuals from formerly colonized nations use the colonial language to express decolonial ideas is problematic, but it's still very accepted. And even these intellectuals who are on the panel, they write in English and they write in French, but they also find it problematic that they do that; however, it's also part of their survival. Ngũgĩ wa Thiong’o wrote Decolonizing The Mind in the early eighties, where he swore off ever writing in English again, but then he is put into prison and he's exiled, so he can't actually exist in his mother tongue and his mother land; the government there has ostracized him because he speaks out against what they're doing to the people. Therefore, he has to make his life in English in America, he teaches in California.

Circumstances don't necessarily allow a person to decolonize their lives because in order to survive in this society, we are all somewhat colonized in our existence. I think that saying to put a bomb under language is saying that we need to just get our ideas out there. There’s also the visual aspect of it, I see words and letters, like, splattered. Like fucking. . .we need to fuck with language; we need to push the boundaries of language.

As Diop said “Teaching Wolof enhances self-esteem.” Does Wolof have a writing system?

I’m not positive about the history of Wolof’s writing system but I know some, especially in more northern Sub-African countries had created writing systems using Arabic script and maybe some of them now use the Latin alphabet, so I would have to look that up for Wolof specifically.

You use your mother tongue to express yourself because ideas in a specific language can't be translated. When you lose the language, you lose the culture and the history of people. Also if you're writing in any of the indigenous languages to Africa, you're not writing for the colonizer; you're writing for the people who speak that language, which is also important.

A lot of this theory, especially academic theory that is taught in universities, is very limited in its reach. I think even though these are serious intellectuals who write academic works for academia, they're aware and they're problematizing the limits of writing scholarly work for institutions that isn't necessarily reaching the people.

What other languages do you speak?

I speak French. I lived in France for awhile. I would say I used to be bilingual; I'm kind of monolingual at this point in my life.

What about in Sesotho?

I was working on the project (an attempt to translate Lits'oanelo Yvonne Nei's short story “Bophelo bo naka li maripa” from Sesotho to English) originally, but the access to the language was limited. I wasn't able to access decent grammar books, I wasn't able to access the orthography that I wanted to access so I gave up pretty quickly...but it wasn't as simple as giving up. I stepped back because I didn't really feel it was totally appropriate for me to do what I was doing. I think that’s a hugely important part of my text, the part where I put myself into conversation with Spivak and she tells me, via an essay she wrote about translation, that what I’m doing is wrong. I want to learn a language in which I'm going to be able to speak to people. I’m still not totally sure if I should have published what was supposed to be such a personal exercise, so that section with Spivak is essential to me.

On page 72, you wrote Liepollo an email about a friend who taught you how to say Your sister is a whore in Tagalog?

A friend of mine, her first love was Filipina so she knew how to insult people in Tagalog. When she said it, it sounded Spanish to me so I was wondering if that kind of insult comes with colonialism...also a misogynistic perspective can come. Not to say that misogyny doesn't exist in all cultures, although I think there are probably some cultures where it doesn't exist. Just problematizing the way language can infiltrate into a culture and then become part of the existing language but isn't part of that cultural history—the etymology isn’t actually Filipino; the etymology is Spanish.

Are there any books and authors that inspire you a lot?

For this work, Dictee by Theresa Hak Kyung Cha, that was a huge inspiration. Mouth: Eats Color by Sawako Nakayasu in terms of thinking about different ways, different things that can be done with form and then different things that can be done with translation. It was very liberating to read those two authors. I don't identify as a translator nor as a poet, so most of the things I've read are novels. My background is primarily in postmodern and postcolonial pieces of literature. I also thought about the nature of collage while I was working on Chronology. I looked at Wangechi Mutu’s work specifically for inspiration, but I’ve loved Romare Bearden’s work for years.

Thanks for sharing. The last question, what are you working on now?

I've started writing and hopefully I'm able to continue it. It's a piece that will potentially be called Policy. I'm an educator and I'm pretty passionate about how distorted and messed up the reality of public school systems is in this country. Although one could say I've been researching since I've been an adult, I started specific research for Policy last summer and I didn't start writing it until a couple of weeks ago. It's experimental in form. I'd say it's fiction meets theory, whereas Chronology is memoir meets theory. I'm not sure exactly where it's going but I'm thinking critically about charter schools and desegregation efforts in New York City and also the history of that. So going back to Brown versus the Board of Ed. . .I'll probably address school shootings, the school-to-prison pipeline, school lunches, teachers’ strikes; it’s about as intersectional an issue as there is—how we educate ourselves as a nation, and on the stolen land of our nation.

I think right now, especially with the current administration, though public schools have been in danger for a very long time, our current secretary of education is a billionaire who wants to privatize education, so her agenda is to destroy our public school infrastructure. It's worrisome. Processing this information in a way makes me very angry because it's systemic. It's how you keep people oppressed. If you don't give people access to education, you're not giving them access to themselves. Never mind the tools they need to achieve and succeed in a capitalist society.

I don't feel the United States has a liberatory agenda for education and I want to explore that a little bit in the history of curriculums and pedagogy because there have been, at the turn of the century, there were some really interesting education theorists like John Dewey and Ella Flagg Young, and their ideas for public education were very progressive, such as student driven classrooms, and not having really punitive systems. You find that education in private schools but rarely in public schools, so why are we not educating our youth in ways that let them think critically about the world that they're living in? Educating children to just follow rules and memorize doesn't work for most children. How many do you know in public schools who are excited to go to school every day? I think humans naturally are curious and want to learn and know things. So why is education taking that away from children?

I don't know exactly how the project is going to manifest. It will be weird.

Zahra Patterson’s first book, Chronology (Ugly Duckling Presse 2018), won the 2019 Lambda Literary Award for Lesbian Memoir/Biography and received a Face Out Fellowship from CLMP. Her short works have appeared in Kalyani Magazine The Felt, and unbag (forthcoming). A reading of her play, Sappho's Last Supper, was staged at WOW Café Theatre. She is the creator of Raw Fiction and currently teaches high school English at a Quaker boarding school. Her writing has been supported by Mount Tremper Arts and Wendy’s Subway, and her community work has been supported by Brooklyn Arts Council, The Pratt Center, and many individuals. She holds an MFA in Writing from Pratt Institute.

#author interviews #read #zahra patterson #chronology

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santamonicaroleplay · 5 years

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Secrets Masterlist

GROUP A

Marco

━ Marco suffers with OCD, but keeps it well hidden most of the time. He’s had periods where it’s been so bad that he’s washed his hands until they were red raw, though —- usually when something’s happened to upset his normally happy life. ━ When he was sixteen, he stole his best friend’s girlfriend. It was unintentional, but she was also a surfer and they spent every day together, things just “happened”. ━ Marco totalled his dad’s car when he was 18 and DUI. His dad still thinks it was the other driver’s fault.

Jason

━ He is a half sibling but is not aware of it yet, his mother had an affair. ━ Got in a car crash with a friend when both fell asleep and it resulted in the death of an old man. Luckily the mans family decided not to press charges. ━ Overdosed in his sophomore year of high school and nearly died but his family kept it under wraps.

Phobe

━ Use to be a drug dealer ━ Became a camgirl for a while to pay bills ━ She only thinks that she knows who the father of Dani is. Phobe is still completely uncertain even if she has a hunch of who it is

Beckett

━ sells drugs ━ made out with his 27 year old college professor when he was in his junior year of college ━ has always claimed he’s had sex but is actually a virgin

GROUP B

Amy

━ Amy sold weed in high school and college. ━ She accidentally killed her daughter’s fish and replaced it with an identical one. ━ She still has feelings for her ex-husband (Nathan)

Enrique

━ Enrique has hired a private investigator to locate his estranged mother. ━ Contrary to the ‘bad boy’ image that Enrique exuded throughout life, he is actually very intelligent. ━ Enrique watches a lot of cartoon reruns before he falls asleep at night.

Olivia

━ Once kissed her sister’s boyfriend when drunk at a party ━ Is quite the nerd when it comes to fantasy movies/television, though she'll pretend she's not ━ Suffers from intense nightmares sometimes

Gemma

━ She lost her virginity while drunk. ━ Feels like she’ll never measure up to her family. ━ Still has a stuffed animal her parents won for her at a fair that she sleeps with when she’s having a rough night.

Summer

━ summer tells everyone her movie genre of choice is romance (drama, comedy, all things romance-related). but truthfully, she has a soft spot for dark psych thrillers with a tinge of horror - a little known fact that hardly anyone but the people closest to her know. ━ summer has only ever been in one serious relationship her whole life. they dated for two years in high school and saw a future together past graduation and into adulthood. however, summer had a pregnancy scare at the end of their senior year, prompting her to end the relationship. since then, she’s avoided dating anyone steadily and has stuck to short-term flings. so far her older sister is the only person who knows about the pregnancy scare. ━ summer used to thrift-hunt for rare designer finds and vintage clothing at the local secondhand shops in monterey, freshening them up and selling them online for a profit. it was a hobby she took to when she was still a kid, but she’s refrained from telling anyone given her current status as a well-reputed stylist.

GROUP C

Wes

━ there have been a few songs written by him that have made it onto Reckless albums about the relationship between him and Sutton Barnes and the aftermath of their relationship ━ had to take depression medication which he has been off of for 3 years ━ attended therapy twice a month for two years after his mother’s death

Alondra

━ She is afraid of crows. ━ She is a cosplayer but does really extravagant cosplays that always cover or modify her face ━ She has an insane funko pop collection, she keeps them in her spare bedroom along with all of her other nerd things

Brooklyn

━ Dealt with breakdown after fiance left and before moving to L.A ━ Stole a CD back in high school ━ (Was wrote down in Diary) Holds resentment towards her brother Jason for leaving her.

GROUP D

Hannah

━ Got pulled over for ‘drunk driving’ when she wasn’t even drunk. Just a bad driver ━ Hasn’t had sex in over 5 years ━ Still in love with her ex-fiance Hanson

Ivy

━ she has embarrassing videos she made with her friends online when she was young and in Australia ━ she's not sure if she's really over her ex like she thought ━ she's planning on dropping out of her last year of vet school to use the loan money with the home and grandmother

Caroline

━ Got a secret tattoo in HS without parents knowing ━ Suffered miscarriage after husband passed away ━ Learned how to kiss through a female friend back in HS

Hunter

━ Hunter often lies about his relationship with his family. He and his father have always been at odds and they haven’t talked since Hunter left home to move to LA, though when asked about his relatives, he’s publicly stated that they get along well and are very close, not to cause a bad impression. ━ Hunter has grown to despise the show he stars in, (which I have terribly named) “Dead or Alive”. Another thing he constantly lies about, after all, it would be terrible publicity for both him and the show, but he can’t wait for either the series to be cancelled, or his contract to be terminated. ━ Hunter has struggled with depression, and still struggles with anxiety. It’s not something he particularly lies about, but definitely tries to hide. Hunter has never really recovered from any of his past traumas – from the loss of his mother, to his father’s abuse, he’s always tried to ignore his pain until he couldn’t, and now his mental health is at an extremely fragile state, in desperate need of constant medical assistance.

Christopher

━ Toph is dyslexic, and even though he’s invested hours and hours into tutors and therapies ━ Topher has Ehlers-Danlos syndrome so his joints are hypermobile and weakened from a lifetime of various sprains and dislocations. He originally took an interest in yoga in an attempt to quell fear that his body would start irreparably deteriorating from his progressive injuries, and while he’s found that it’s offered him some relief and reassurance, he’s still prone to stretched ligaments and dislocations. Though he wouldn’t deny it if asked, it’s not offered knowledge about the gardener. (Save for a handful of rec center yogis who once watched his shoulder pop right out of socket mid one-handed tree pose.) ━ Every now and then, he’ll pull the curtains and open up all of the windows in his loft apartment to let the sunlight and fresh air in, turn on a good song strip totally naked, and enjoy a very relaxed and unhindered yoga / meditation session to refresh and realign his chakras and reconnect with his body. He’s pretty sure his windows aren’t visible from the sidewalk several stories below anyway, but his cat has walked in on him in compromising positions once or twice.

GROUP E

Skyler

━ Searches for his birth family online when he's drunk ━ He can quote Pretty Woman word for word ━ Once cried for an hour straight at a Cher concert because he thought she was so wonderful

Mai

━ She has the biggest crush on her best friend Beckett and it terrifies her. ━ She suffers from nightmares, so she chooses to use night time for writing or going on walks to avoid sleeping. ━ Though she says she has, she still has yet to let go of her mother’s death after almost nine years of the event passing.

Zahra

━ When Zahra moved to New York, her parents thought she was enrolled in university, but she actually dropped out to become a singer. ━ The night before the day her brother went missing Zahra ignored several phone calls from him because she was auditioning for a gig. ━ Since her return to Santa Monica 2 months ago, Zahra and her parents have been seeing a therapist.

Ophelia

━ The summer before college, Ophelia had a fling with one of her father’s associates. ━ When she was 7, she accidentally melted the face off her sister’s favorite Barbie doll by trying to blow dry her hair. Her sister thinks the dog mangled her doll to this day. ━ When filming her first television show, Ophelia had a crush on her co-star.

GROUP F

Nathan

━ Before making it big, he had a very brief fling with his boss at the magazine he was working for, who had promised to help him with his career. They lied and he soon realised he needed to do it all himself ━ During his time on the football team in high school, he spent most of his time smoking weed under the bleachers than actually putting the time into practise. ━ Despite still being a major flirt from time to time, Nathan’s avoided dating and everything that goes with it since his divorce for fear of messing that up just like he did his marriage.

Adelaide

━ Has struggled with anorexia for years. ━ Cheated on an ex boyfriend with his best friend in high school ━ Was a bully/mean girl in high school

Alexandra

━ Former worked as a dominatrix Madame Mercy ━ During a weding reception she made out with the groom while everyone else was dancing. ━ Gave her panties to a random guy in order to get a cab, then had sex with said guy in order to get a free ride

Diana

━ Has never learned to drive ━ Will always take the stairs instead of the elevator as they suffer from claustrophobia ━ Walked out on her last boyfriend while he was unconscious in hospital

GROUP G

Iris

━ cried once in order to get out of getting a ticket ━ is obsessed with watching old 90’s cartoons and anime at odd hours of the night ━ had a miscarriage courtesy of her abusive ex-boyfriend

Noah

━ Was actually born in to the Aldridge family, but was kept from the truth his whole life. ━ Failed his drivers test multiple times ━ Used to be bankrupt when taking care of his siblings and had to take loans that took him years to pay off.

Ava

━ Lost her virginity to Alex’s boyfriend at the time ━ Still sleeps with a stuffed animal dog ━ Tells people she graduated from college even if she never attended

━ RJ is not over his last relationship because he still has feelings for his ex-girlfriend. ━ RJ once ran a popular twitter update account for Rihanna when he was in high school. ━ Before he struck fame with Reckless, RJ was a featured artist on a song, the collaboration was horrible; they also had an accompanying cringey music video produced; https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sX6IhJ8wAKw

GROUP H

Jackson

━ Kissed Kourtney Kardashian ━ Almost got caught trying to shoplift but played it off as an accident ━ Lied on his resmue about knowing how to tap dance.

Bianca

━ plays pokemon go religiously ━ truly believes in the supernatural ━ is a published romance author under the pen name Veronica Vanburen

Kaden

━ Never disclosed the fact her parents are criminals and drug addicts to the police academy. ━ Had an affair with a married man ━ She constantly uses hot sauce on any food she can--pasta, sandwiches, burgers, etc.

Abigail

━ In the week before her wedding she had one too many and kissed a girl in a bar restroom. ━ Still rings home once a month and leaves a message despite her parents never returning her calls. ━ Once drove 36 hours to the house she’d once shared with her fiance only to lose her nerve and turn around once she saw he was home.

Jack

━ From age 5-12, Parker has swallowed every piece of gum he's ever chewed. ━ He hates needles and faints very easily at the sight of blood draws ━ He slept with a girl who had a boyfriend four times in one night and then fell in love with her although she decided to stay with her long-term boyfriend.

GROUP I

Emre

━ purposely let his academic progress go to waste while attending Dartmouth and was put on academic probation twice ━ had a relationship with a woman that was a close friends to his parents when he was 21 and she 42; the relationship wasn’t serious and they only saw each other for about three months ━ one of his first investments fell through with two million dollars on the line from his trust fund

Breeland

━ She is aware of the fact that her drinking has gotten out of control and has been talking to someone about it quietly. ━ Agreed to go on a date with a cop to get out of a speeding ticket. ━ Almost had a drunken hook up with the head of the label she works for even though he’s married

Spencer

━ She catfished a guy on Tinder after he broke one of her best friends’ hearts. ━ Spencer was arrested for assaulting a classmate in high school and had to do counseling and community service. ━ Spence was being stalked by an ex-boyfriend last year and had to get a restraining order against him.

Logan

━ Likes pineapple on pizza ━ Enjoys fruity alcoholic drinks. ━ When he goes out he loosen the salt shakers tops so it spills on whoever is after him/around him.

GROUP J

Richie

━ The first ever guitar Richard has, he stole. He didn’t want to ask his parents to keep buying him things when they disagreed with his chosen career path, so he went out and stole it so he could write music. ━ Richard cannot remember most of the women he’s been with, by not remembering their names; he came up with a system so that he tells them apart by numbers. ━ Although it may not appear so in every day life, Richie sometimes struggle with his self image while under the pressure of social media comments and expectations for what he should look like.

Mara

━ had a miscarriage when she was 22 ━ she knows that Noah Sinclair is their half brother ━ she used to write fanfictions

Freya

━ she is still a virgin but secretly wants to have sex. ━ she still suffers from partial memory loss of certain major events but tries to act like she knows what her family is talking about. ━ she’s having blackouts and sleepwalks to random places.

Kessa

━ Spent a week in a mental hospital after finding out about her biological family. ━ Constantly feels disconnected with her biological family/because of that disconnect she’s forced to do therapy twice a week by her moms. ━ Was a married couples third for over a year.

GROUP K

Faye

━ While back in the UK, she made the decision to track down the child she gave up at birth and was rather swiftly denied any contact. ━ Faye recently found out that her family is broke following her father’s scandal. She was the only one with any money, most of which she used for her education in Washington. ━ She returned to the US stressed and feeling out of control, so her friend took her on a vacation to Vegas where she could be out of control. The weekend ended up very messy and she ended up married to someone she’d only just met.

Sutton

━ Was aware her ex-fiance was cheating, but was too scared to be alone so she pretended to not know. ━ Skinny dips every third Sunday of the month before dawn. ━ Even though she should have gave the ring back, Sutton actually paid and kept her engagement right after her engagement ended, it is now in her jewelry box.

Thalia

━ When she was a tween, Thalia tried and failed at becoming a popular ‘youtuber’. At the time her channel featured vlogs, dancing, baking, and makeup tutorials. ━ Thalia cheated during monopoly at her family’s game night and still feels guilty. ━ Thalia uses popular hookup apps for the attention she gets, but she never actually meets up with anyone.

Leyla

━ Slept with one of her professors at Harvard ━ Still watches Disney films when she’s having a bad day ━ Once escaped a one night stand by climbing out of a top floor window

#santamevent2

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mind-reader1 · 6 years

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My Promise (Jake x MC)

A/N: So this idea just popped into my head the other day, and I’m sorry in advance. This is an AU that takes place after the battle on the Celestial roof. Stay tuned for the sequel!

Warnings: Angsty af

Word Count: 2,896

Taylor stood on the rooftop of the Celestial, time frozen around her, all of her friends locked in place, completely unaware of what was happening. Taylor wasn’t even really sure what was happening until she saw Vaanu floating in front of her, the omnipresent transparent spirit sent a chill down her spine, she had the feeling that something terrible was about to happen. She could feel Vaanu staring at her, neither of them speaking, she wandered amongst her friends, making sure to memorize each and every one of them.

Zahra’s dark red stripe of hair now grown out, the shaved side beginning to grow back into place creating a kind of fuzzy look, Craig keeping a close eye on her, his brown eyes revealing the teddy bear he was inside, the love he felt for her boiling over.

Sean, the fierce protector of them all, his hazel eyes trying to hide the concern as he desperately searched for a way to stop Rourke from completing his plan.

Quinn, the bubbly red-head who had come into her own on the trip, and who had saved them more than once, even if it could cost her, her life, the selfless queen.

She even appreciated Aleister who was there, despite all the terrible things his father had done to him, and temporarily siding with him, back to protect his new family, the ones who truly appreciated him.

Grace, sweet timid Grace with her bouncy girls and big brown eyes shielded from the world behind her glasses, the girl who finally stood up for what she wanted and found an unexpected love along the way.

Raj, the secret stoner genius, the prodigy who had brought them all together when everyone else thought it was impossible, even Taylor, the one who made sure that she and Jake had the best wedding they possibly could.

Diego, her best friend, the only reason she was even here was because of him because he had willed her into existence as if he knew somehow, they all needed Taylor for different reasons. Her best friend who had finally found love, the only thing he had ever really wanted for in this life.

Estela, the girl who had come on a mission of vengeance, only to find that there was more to life than revenge and that she could be happy without it.

Michelle, the beautiful pre-med who had been hardened by the experience with her so-called friends, who’d finally opened her heart to Taylor and become one of her best friends, they had all become her best friends, her family, especially Jake.

Oh, Jake. Taylor stopped in front of him, gently tracing her fingertips down his chiseled jaw, running them through his sandy blonde hair, down his misleadingly strong biceps to his rough, calloused hands that held her every night, kept her safe and warm, the only place she could forget about the rest of the world and be present in the moment. She intertwined her fingers with his, sighing when they didn’t entangle themselves with hers, letting go she wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her head against his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. It was a sound she had fallen asleep to so many times now, her own personal lullaby, and she knew her heartbeat matched his, perfectly timed. Cupping his face with hands, she looked into his cerulean blue eyes, the ones she had been avoiding, she could see the fear in them as he was reaching out for her, she never wanted to see that look in his eyes, and she most certainly never wanted to be the reason for it, he’d just lost the last person he had left beside her, his best friend.

“You know what you must do to end this.” Vannu’s voice rang in her mind, and it felt like a thousand tiny needles pressing against her head, it was agonizing, the visions of her home planet filling her mind.

“I can’t.” She pleaded, crying, staring at Jake. The last thing he’d said to her before time froze was, “that look in your eyes telling me that I’m gonna lose you, Princess.” He was right, Vannu wanted her to return with him, to make him whole again, just as she had done for her friends and Jake had done for her, Jake made her feel whole, not Vannu.

“It is your decision, but you know what you should choose.” She turned back to Vannu, an idea crossing her mind.

“I’m a part of you, surely you can sense how much Jake means to me. Please, I promised him a year and a day, at least let me fulfill that. I can’t just abandon him.” Taylor could sense Vannu thinking, could tell that he was torn up inside as well, sensing the pain radiating off of her.

“There would be no more time resets, no more loops, no more anomalies, if something happens to one of your friends or to Jake that is the end, there is no turning back.”

“Fine, just let me fulfill my promise.”

“Very well.” Taylor covered her eyes from the flash of blinding white light, time beginning to move around her again, Jake rushing forward and enveloping her in his arms.

“You can’t leave me, Princess.” Taylor could feel Jake’s heart practically beating out of his chest.

“I’m not going anywhere, Jake.” She couldn’t look him in the eyes, so she pulled him flush against her, feeling the tension leave his body. Rourke’s outburst broke them from the moment.

“No! I don’t understand!” His omega mech had shut down, allowing Estela to escape, the rest of the group subduing the crazed man as he looked pointedly at Taylor.

“What did you do!”

“I sent Vannu home, it’s over Rourke.”

“No! There will be consequences!” He snarled, lunging for Taylor but it was no use, the others hold on him was too strong and they dragged him down to the dungeon where he could be locked up until they figured out what to do with him. Time in the outside world wouldn’t be completely reset until Taylor left, and Vannu had returned, no one would come looking for them until then. The group celebrated their victory for days, no one seemed to notice that something was haunting Taylor, not even Jake who was just so relieved that his wife was still here with him. She couldn’t bring herself to tell him the truth, that with each day that passed their time together got shorter and shorter. She knew Jake wanted to start a family with her, and she wanted nothing more than to have a family with him too, but deep down she knew that wasn’t possible, she knew that she would never be able to completely give him what he desired. Those first few months, they hardly left their room, Taylor wanting to enjoy every second she had with him, Jake lost in marital bliss, they had been so careful, until one day they weren’t. The day she found out she was terrified, the baby would only be a few weeks old when she left, assuming she did her math right. Jake would be left to raise the baby on his own but he had no idea that was going to happen, she hadn’t had the guts to tell him, to ruin his happiness.

Jake was overjoyed, scooping her up off the ground and spinning her, chanting over and over. “We’re having a baby. We’re going to be parents! I’m going to be a dad!” The look of pure unbridled joy on his face broke something in Taylor, she began crying and Jake wiped her eyes, kissing her until she stopped crying.

“What’s wrong? Aren’t you happy? He whispered, she could hear the edge in his voice.

“Yes, I’m so happy Jake, I love you.” She rested her forehead against his, she couldn’t let him see how scared she was, she should’ve been as happy as him, but it just made the inevitable truth that much closer for her. He went through the hotel, banging on everyone’s door to tell them the good news, they weren’t amused at first, but once they’d all had their coffee, they were happy and congratulating them. It put Taylor’s mind at ease just a little because she knew that Jake would have a village to help him raise the baby once she was gone.

Every day that passed, she could swear her belly got bigger and bigger as if it was some kind of sick joke, of Vaanu’s way of saying “this is what you wanted, there are always consequences for choices.” Jake and Taylor couldn’t agree on a name, for a boy or a girl, it’s not like they had any way of finding out on the island.

“I think we should name him Jacob McKenzie junior.” Jake teased, kissing her large belly, she looked like she would burst any day now, and she was due any day now as well by Michelle’s count.

“And what if it’s a girl?” Taylor raised her eyebrows. Jake chuckled and pulled her close, protectively wrapping an arm around her belly.

“I’m sure it’s a boy, but if it is a girl then she’ll be just as beautiful as her mother and we’ll try again so we can give her a little brother.” He teased, gently nibbling her ear, making her squirm under his touch. He was already thinking about another kid, and she would never be able to give that to him.

“So, you want a son?” Taylor prayed to Vaanu that their child would be a boy, that she could give him at least one thing he wanted before she left him forever.

“I just want a healthy baby with my beautiful wife, Taylor.” He could sense that something had been off with her, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Their beautiful baby girl was born that next week, Michelle helping her through the process and keeping her from breaking Jake’s fingers.

“It’s a beautiful baby girl.” Michelle held up the screaming baby for Taylor and Jake, Taylor cried as she held her, admiring her. She looked just like Taylor, a small patch of platinum blonde hair, crystal blue eyes curiously shining up at them.

“She looks just like you, Princess.” Jake kissed the top of her head and Taylor pulled them both close, refusing to let go until she was so exhausted she couldn’t hold on anymore, she wanted to treasure every possible moment she had left with them. She would be up in the middle of the night to feed or change the baby’s diaper, they had resorted to calling her Baby since they still hadn’t come up with a name. Despite being exhausted, constantly up with Baby, she couldn’t sleep, she would lie on her side facing Jake, memorizing his sleeping features. He looked so much younger and relaxed when he was sleeping, his breathing even and deep, his heartbeat strong and steady, reminding her that for now she was still alive and still had some time with her family left.

On their year and a day, Taylor refused to leave Jake and Baby’s side, she knew that this was their last day with them and she wasn’t going to waste a second of it, not knowing when Vaanu would be coming for her. They took Baby for a walk, having lunch with everyone to celebrate their anniversary and Diego and Varyyn’s. Taylor stood, clearing her throat to make a toast.

“I, I just want to thank you all for sharing this special day with us and to let you know that you’ve all become such a special part of my life. I would not trade anything for the time we’ve had together, I love you all so much, especially you Jake. I couldn’t have asked for a better partner on this crazy journey. Cheers.” Everyone raised their glasses and Taylor fought tears in her eyes.

“Okay Taylor, it’s not like this is goodbye or anything, I don’t know that I can follow that emotional speech.” Diego teased when the group began chanting, expecting a speech from him. She forced a small smile, if only they knew, this was goodbye. That night, Taylor and Jake returned to their place with Baby and set her down to sleep, Taylor crashing her lips onto his the second they were in their room. Jake was caught off guard but responded to her instantly, sensing the passion and desire rolling off his wife. At first, it was rushed, desperately clawing, trying to bring the other closer, to feel the other pressed against them completely; but then it was slow and sweet, taking their time, savoring the moment, pouring all their love for the other into it. As they laid there tangled up together, breathing heavy, Taylor traced idle circles on Jake’s chest.

“I’m not complaining, but what’s gotten into you, Taylor? You haven’t jumped me like that since our honeymoon.” She turned, her chin resting on his head, staring into his blue eyes. He could sense some swirling in the depths of her ocean blue eyes, it’d been there for a while, but he still couldn’t figure out what it was.

“I just love you so much Jake, I wanted our year and a day to be special,” she whispered, she couldn’t let him see the fear she felt boiling up inside her, the strength it took to fight back the tears and keep her heartbeat in time with his.

“I love you too, Princess. We’ve got plenty of years and days ahead of us.” He sighed and fell into a deep sleep with her wrapped in his arms. She carefully snaked her way out and began writing him a letter.

Jake,

My love, my husband, my one true love, Top Gun, if you’re reading this then I’m gone. I’m sorry, and I know that doesn’t even begin to make up for it, but I had to do it, and I hope you can understand. It was the only way I could save you all, to make sure that you had a chance at a real life, I promised you a year and a day, and so when Vaanu came to me, I begged that he let me fulfill that promise. I wish I could have given you all my years and days, but at least we were able to have one together, and let me tell you, Jake, it was the best year and a day of my life. You gave me the chance to be a mother, to have a real family, and I will forever be grateful for that. I know that it might not make sense, but I promise it will all work out and you will be the best father to our baby girl and name her something absolutely beautiful. Now you both carry a piece of me with you, and I will carry with me a piece of you both. I didn’t tell you because I knew that you would spend our time together searching for a way to undo it, and I didn’t want that for you, for us. I wanted you to remember the happy times together, to enjoy and savor every moment, like last night. I couldn’t have asked for a better parting gift. I hope you understand, I will love you forever Jacob Lucas McKenzie.

Love your princess,

Taylor

Jake sobbed, falling to his knees as he held the note to his chest. His heart was completely broken, his wife was gone, she’d made a deal without him knowing to save him and their friends. Now he was left alone with a newborn, this is what he had seen in her eyes, what she was so afraid of, it all made sense now. The only thing that broke him out of his downward spiral was the cries of Baby. He rushed to her side, worried that Vaanu was trying to take her too, but it was just him and Baby. He picked her up, rocking her gently, to soothe her, whispering sweet nothings. She finally calmed down and when he pulled her away from his chest he saw that she was sleeping peacefully again.

“Aurora Taylor McKenzie. Named after your mother, my princess. Mommy isn’t here with us anymore, but she’s out there, waiting for us to find her, a sleeping princess.”

“It’s beautiful Jake.” He swore he heard Taylor’s voice and whipped around, but there was nothing other than a slight breeze, carrying the scent of her perfume to his nose.

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

Jake’s little girl came bounding into the room, jumping onto her Daddy’s lap and wrapped her arms around his neck, staring at him with her large ocean blue eyes.

“Daddy, tell me about Mommy again!”

“You’re supposed to be in bed Squirt.” He carried her back to her room and laid her down in bed, pulling the covers up once more.

“Please, just tell me the story about Mommy one more time.”

“Okay, but then it’s bedtime.” The little girl eagerly nodded and settled in for her favorite story.

“It all started when the most beautiful princess in all the realms woke the dashing knight up from a nap in the front of the carriage.”

Find Part 2 here!

Perma-tag: @brightpinkpeppercorn @sleepwalkingelite @ooo-barff-ooo @endlessly-searching-for-you @agent-bossypants @roonarific @likethetailofacomet @zaffrenotes @mysteli @vickypoochoices @kayann9 @jlouise88 @zigortega4life @findingdrake @bbaba-yagaa

Jake -Tag: @endlesstaylormckenzie @sophie-summer @feartheendlesssummer @darley1101 @emomoustache @xo-endlessmayhem-xo

#choices #choices stories you play #choices fanfic #choices fanfiction #choices you play #endless summer #jake mckenzie #jake x mc #jake x taylor #vaanu #vaanu ending #year and a day #handfasting #aurora taylor mckenzie #choices endless summer #angsty

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jumukus · 6 years

Text

A3! Event: Harugaoka Quartet Chapter 6 Translation

Itaru comes to Tangerine’s rescue when the latter is depressed

Tangerine: ….*sigh*.

«It’s been several weeks since I left Zahra…. But I could hardly talk to Onii-sama. Just what am I doing here, really….»

Itaru: ….Heey.

Tangerine: ?

Itaru: Come here, come here.

Tangerine: ???

Itaru: Take a seat here.

Tangerine: Okay.

Itaru: Here, for you. One should bring a souvenir when they go home.

Tangerine: This is….a toy, right?

Itaru: It’s shokugan*. It’s one of the specialties of his country.

Tangerine: Oh! I’ve heard about it from Onii-sama! This is very popular among those scary-looking people, right?

Itaru: Yes, yes.

Take this one, too.

Tangerine: This one is?

Itaru: This game has been hot lately, so let’s play together.

Tangerine: !! Yes!!

Tangerine: Yeaay! I won!

Itaru: Ah, you did well, good job. You’re already used to it on your first try.

Tangerine: I used to play this with Onii-sama at the royal palace in the past. Onii-sama secretly got himself a gaming device.

Itaru: I see.

Tangerine: Onii-sama was the only one who would play with me at the royal palace. I am a good-for-nothing prince, after all….

Onii-sama was the only one who was kind to me. He taught me a lot of things.

Itaru: Do you love Citron?

Tangerine: Of course. He’s the person whom I respect the most.

Despite that…. I caused troubles for Onii-sama. I’m sure he hates me now.

Itaru: Ah….

Don’t be depressed. I don’t think Citron hates you.

Tangerine: ….You’re kind, Itaru.

Itaru: I’m not used to this kind of thing, though. I’m the youngest child in my family, after all.

Chikage: ...What are you doing?

Itaru: You can tell by looking, right.

Chikage: Chigasaki is using the iron claw technique** on the prince after losing a game?

Itaru: This guy sure likes having baseless suspicion.

Tangerine: So Chikage likes to suspect people unjustly, huh?

Chikage: You don’t have to remember that when you return home.

Tangerine: I got it.

Do you want to play game too, Chikage?

Chikage: ….Well, if it’s just for a short time.

Itaru: ….How rare.

Chikage: Do you have any problem?

Itaru: No, not really?

It looks like Citron is going out to attend some business, so why don’t you play with the Japanese onii-sans for the time being?

Tangerine: Onii-sans?

Itaru: Tsuzuru has said it before, but Citron’s little brother is like the Spring Troupe’s little brother.

Chikage: That’s right.

Tangerine: Everyone in Spring Troupe’s little brother…

Itaru: Tangerine, let’s use the techniques I taught you earlier and crush senpai together.

Tangerine: Yes!

Chikage: How interesting. Bring it on.

Masumi: ….

Tangerine: You’ve gotten better, Masumi.

Masumi: That’s obvious.

Tangerine: I’ve become good at playing games, too. I played with Chikage and Itaru.

I was also told that Onii-sama’s little brother is everyone in Spring Troupe’s little brother.

Masumi: Don’t just make me your big brother as you please.

Tangerine: So Masumi is a little brother?

Masumi: That’s not what I mean. Never mind that, teach me how to play violin again.

Tangerine: Masumi’s tone is already beautiful, though. That’s enough.

Masumi: It’s not. I won’t defeat that guy at this rate.

Tangerine: ….Defeating Onii-sama is hard.

Masumi: I still intend to win.

Tangerine: ...Hmmm.

Onii-sama once told me pinterkretation is the important thing in music.

Masumi: Pinterkretation…. Interpretation?

Tangerine: That’s it.

Performing music is not all about following the score. You need to interpret what message the composer was trying to tell through his music, and express it during performance.

Masumi: ...It’s the same as acting.

Tangerine: From what I hear, Masumi is still following the score.

Masumi: Try playing it yourself then if you’re able to talk big like that.

Tangerine: ——.

Masumi: What? Are you not going to play?

Tangerine: That’s not it.

….

Masumi: Hmm, you’re not just talk.

Tangerine: But this is no good. The sound that I want to hear isn’t this one.

I want to make the sound that Onii-sama usually makes.

Onii-sama’s violin performance is… filled with warm sounds that express heartfelt gratitude to all the soldiers who are conferred.

Tangerine: And I’m still not good enough to play that.

«I want to hear it once more….»

Masumi: ….

Tangerine: *Sneezes*

Masumi: Let’s go inside before you catch a cold.

Tangerine: All right.

….Masumi.

Masumi: ?

Tangerine: Can we sleep together again, like before?

Masumi: ….*sighs*. I’ve got no choice.

Tangerine: Masumi, phanks.

Masumi: It’s “thanks.”

t/n: *食玩 (Shokugan): small toys sold with food. ** Iron Claw technique: a wrestling move where one grips the opponent’s face (https://animewriter.files.wordpress.com/2009/02/the-iron-claw-move.jpg)

< Chapter 5 | Masterlist | Chapter 7 >

#a3!#a3! translation #spring troupe #sakuya sakuma #masumi usui #tsuzuru minagi #Itaru chigasaki #citron #chikage utsuki

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be-ready-when-i-say-go · 4 years

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In Sorrow and In Joy- Part 10: Adventures Awaits

Luke learns the hard way what it means to be a dad and how to keep his family safe and together. Dad!Luke with a South Asian Reader. This is a collaborative experience with A Family of Five.

CW: Over the course of this series, themes of racism and prejudice on the basis of religion are present. Please read or skip as necessary.

Enjoy my masterlist | Series Masterlist

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No one has my permission to repost my work of fiction. This includes translations as well.

_____________________________

Luke reclines back into the cushion of the seat. In hand, a glass of lemonade. The dry heat melts the ice, the glass coated in small droplets of water. They run down the clear glass, in races that go unnoticed by Luke or anyone for that matter. But Luke’s the only one close enough to see them if he cared to look. Behind his sunglasses, his eyes are closed, body welcoming the warmth. He was lathered by you in sunscreen nearly first thing this morning. He managed to get breakfast first for you and the kids.

The four of you are still inside the room, looking over things to do, how far away places are. But the door creaks open, the chill and hum of the AC unit hitting Luke’s ear. “I want to explore the city.”

It’s Noor, standing in the cracked door, leaning into the frame. He sits up, and turns, feet hitting the warm concrete and looks over to his daughter. How she looks so much like him but distinctly different–distinctly other. He remembers the time in the grocery store when she was about five, the man shouting to send them back, calling them terrorists. He’s not sure why the memory comes flooding back to him. He’s not sure why when she says that his heart race.

Maybe because it’s not home–he’s not on his own turf. When the ugliness is at home one knows how to play the game. He feels partly insane for the moment’s panic. He’s traveled with them before, they’ve been with him, city to city sometimes during the summer when they’re on tour. They’ve traveled to some pretty cool places, like the time they explored parts of Japan with him. They’ve been fine.

Though the news tells a different story. He scrolled through the channels this morning before he got breakfast. The news always frightens him now. That is not the call he wants, that one of his kids is hurt or worse. It terrifies him that they go out into the world without him. He can’t protect them from everything. But he can’t hold them back either. Noor’s request isn’t terrifying. Her want to wander, to see is something she’s always had. He cannot squander it because of his own fears.

“With you,” she adds. Hoping, praying he says yes. It’s not like she thinks he’ll say no. But she wants him to know that is a distinct and thought out choice. That she wants to spend time with him.

She overheard Luke talking to you. How he felt so useless. That was years ago. But the thought of it haunts her a little as she prepares to leave for college. This is partly her graduation present. She wanted one last big family vacation together. It took a lot of planning, shifting schedules but it worked. They are here. In Spain. Together.

Luke nods, pushing the glasses up into his hair, holding back the mid-length curls. “Might want to grab yourself a map and mark the places you want to go.”

She smiles, revealing her hands, a map already littered with red ink. “Beat you to it.”

“Put on your walking shoes then.”

Noor turns back inside. As Luke and she get their shoes tied and he packs waters, and some snacks in his backpack, Noor looks over the map of Bilbao, pointing out the first stop of their journey.

“Meet us back here, so we can head to Guggenhiem together,” you note, rattling off a time towards the evening to reconvene. Noor nods with a tiny salute and hurries to the door. There be not a second to waste.

Luke slides the tinted glasses back down. “Lead the way, little adventurer,” he says with a smile.

Her gaze is locked on the map before gathering her surroundings, locating the street name. Luke stands behind her, looking at all her markings. “Do you remember your first time to Japan?” he asks quietly.

She hums with a nod. “It’s where it all started,” she jokes, before decisively turning on her heel and starting down southbound.

“I’ve kept all the maps.” This is their tradition–Luke and Noor. Whenever they got somewhere, she grabs a map and marks all the places she wants to visit and the two of them venture out, usually on foot or if need be on the bus. It started in Japan when Noor was 10. Luke sat her in his lap and the looked over the map. He has a printed list of the things she said she wanted to do and they marked the map of all the places.

It was as they were getting ready to get onto the bullet train that she asked how it worked. Luke didn’t know, he did his best to research it later after their trip. But all during their exploring, she pointed out all the different architecture and statues. She was lit with an awe, eyes bright and excitedly pulling Luke in all different directions. She went into a bookshop and got as many books as she could on the art and culture.

And here, 8 years later, Luke knows for certain a bookstore will be on their list. Here eight years later, with a red pen tucked into her low bun, she navigates through the streets. Occasionally she points out a landmark, a building and rattles off the type of window or what year it was erected. “You know, a window’s sometimes just a window,” Luke jokes.

Noor rolls her eyes. “A window’s never a window. A window is a story.”

“So are you my little adventurer or are you a tour guide?”

“Both. You’d be lost here without me.”

With a gasp of fake offense, Luke pauses for a moment. “That is no way to talk to your father.”

Noor turns to see him, holding a hand over his mouth. She can envision behind the glasses the widen eyes. “Love you!”

“Hm, you have to say that because I’m guarding the snacks.”

She huffs, crosses back to him and wraps his torso up in a hug. She’s careful not to crush the map. Luke kisses the top of her head, arms encasing her as well. “I do love you, Dad. Why do you think I choose to hang out with you?”

With soft tufts of laughter, Luke nudges her. “How close are we?”

“Four more blocks.”

They continue on, his arm slung over her shoulder. It takes longer than anticipated to finish the rest of the walk, with stops to take pictures of buildings. The streets are busy, but the fullness is welcoming. They can just continue down in the sea of people as nothing but two specs. As they venture through, Luke makes a pit stop at one of the shops. It’s no bookstore, but the storefront is inviting, much like most of the reds that decorate the city.

“Should’ve brought Zeek. His Spanish is better,” Noor laughs when the owner rapidly greets the pair. Noor is able to navigate most of the conversations and can’t turn down the woman’s high praise about a scarf. She grabs one for you, Zahra and herself. Luke passes over the bills with a smile and a quiet, “Gracias.”

With the scarfs tucked safely into the backpack

More check marks start to replace the red stars Noor made. Before evening dawns, they head back to the hotel, gathering you, Zahra and Zeek. The excitement bounces off Noor as they approach Zubizuri. She rushes ahead of them, unable to contain the burst of energy. She’s dreamed of seeing this in person, of how it feels to be right in the middle, glass brick under her feet and the river rushing below her.

Luke watches her, her small pouch bouncing against her hip as she jogs. Zeek tries to catch her arm, to pull her back so he can get their first. He fails at restraining her, “Shit,” he mutters. “Wait up!”

A quick, “Rook sha,” falls from Noors lips along with her laughter. “You’re a cheater!

You shout at Noor. “Language!”

Zahra snickers from next to you. “Oh, Ma, let ‘em live a little,” she interjects.

“Sorry!” they chorus, not the least bit sorry caught cursing at each other.

“Be careful,” Luke calls out before the panic hits his chest. Are people staring at them? Something in him dares someone to say something to his children. It would be the last time they do something like it again. They are young, carefree in some ways. He wants them to stay that way. To race to the center of a bridge because that’s what they do.

He knows he can’t keep them young and he can’t save them from everything. But he’ll be damned if he doesn’t try. And he won’t have any powers when Noor and Zeek leave. Noor going to study art history and Zeek going for art and graphic design. He was more than happy to let Noor pick the destination for the trip, giving a genuine comment that she would have better taste than he would. Just as long as the place had a beach. That comment earned him a tap on the back of the head.

That’s what terrifies Luke, he realizes as he watches the two of them breathing hard waiting for the rest of them to catch up. He’s protected them for so long, taught them all he can teach them. He’s been there when the bullies were extra mean that day, he was there when they excelled. But now they are going to be flying out from underneath his wings.

He jogs to catch up to them, catching Noor and Zeek each in one arm. He can hold them close for just one more moment. They laugh before Noor pulls away. “C’mon. There’s this amazing statue. You gotta see it. And just the building itself, stunning.”

This is just the first museum during their trip, knowing tomorrow will be another run of them. This is one of the two she was most excited to see. “Okay, baby girl, the statue. Let’s wait for the rest of them.”

Noor tucks herself into Luke’s side. “I’d never dream of designing something like that.”

“You could,” Luke squeezes her shoulders.

“You know, I want to curate shows for museums like this,” she confesses silently. “I want to see kids be just as excited as me.”

He likes her talking like this, thinking of her future, dreaming her dreams. As they enter the museum, Noor takes a map to look over the exhibits. Zeek taps her shoulder pointing up. She hands him the map, gasping at the way light moves across the rounded walls. The metal beams crossing and supporting each other. She’s sure she’s ascended in the lobby of this museum.

___

It’s not sad when they pack up their luggage. Though Noor lingers behind as they travel through the airport to their gate. Zahra settles in next to Noor, grinning at her younger sister. They both wear the scarves bought earlier in the trip. “You totally beat Zeek on that bridge.”

“I can you hear you,” he huffs, pencil stilling in the sketchbook.

“I didn’t whisper it,” she retorts before turning back to Noor. “You picked a pretty cool place.”

“Thanks,” Noor nods with a smile. Zahra’s away now and they don’t see each other super often, mostly during her breaks. But she calls every week, sometimes multiple times just to chat and see how they are.

Digging into her bag, Zahra unearths a small little book, Building Art. Noor grins. She eyed the book in the shop, but settled on getting some earrings and the Frida pin the shop had. But Ra knows her sister, knows she was eying the book but had no space in her bags for it. Luke was offering to get it for her, even though Noor insisted on not getting. But Ra told him she would get it.

“I bet Dad bought it,” Noor teases, taking the book.

“I’ll have you know I bought it myself,” Ra laughs. Luke watches them, laughing at each other, before returning to their respective phones, but leaning into each other. Ra’s doing well in school and hasn’t had too many issues. He worries though, the way she likes to be strong all the time. But then there’s Noor, almost been a bit softer in the world and he’s proud that she’s remained that way too. It’s easier to turn hard when the world is cold, but she’s remained warm and soft and kind.

Three weeks after returning up, Luke returns home from helping some friends in the studio to music playing from upstairs. Zeek’s car isn’t in the driveway and Ra’s not staying home for the summer, having an internship.

“Who goes there?” Luke shouts into the house.

“Stay downstairs,” Noor returns. “Please.”

“Yeah, sure, I’ll just not roam around my own house freely.” He drops his keys into the bowl, shedding his jacket. He pours himself a glass of water. A few minutes pass before she climbs down the stairs. Luke looks up from the TV. She holds a scrapbook close to her chest, grinning. In two more weeks, they’ll be taking her for move in. Luke will be helping Noor move in and you’ll be helping Zeek move. They move in on the same day, but thankfully it all works out.

“What’s that?”

“It’s for you.” She holds it out, watching his face. Luke takes it with both hands, looking over the glossy black cover. Our Adventures is written in white cursive. He flips it open and is greeted with a picture of Luke and Noor in Japan. Next to it is a piece of the map that he saved. Written in dark red is Japan at the top. He continues through, more and more photos of them, next to the piece of the map with the red start covered in a check mark.

It ends with their trip to Spain. Her posed on the footbridge and on the streets of Las Siete Calles, in front of the cathedral. More pages in the back are blank. “For more adventures,” Noor says softly.

Luke can feel his tears stinging. His chest squeezes for a moment and he sniffles, wiping at tears slipping down his cheeks. “I love it.” He pulls her into a hug. It’s tight and Noor tries hard not to cry herself. But her cheeks grow hot and the tears fall. Truth is, she’s a little scared. She’s been away from home. But she knew she’d always be coming back.

This is completely new. Going and in some ways staying gone, finding new roots somewhere else. “I love you, Dad. So much.”

He can hear the croak in her voice and pulls away, cupping her face. “No, no, no, don’t cry. It’s okay.” She inhales, trying to stop the tears. It feels stupid to be crying. But change is hard. So hard sometimes.

“We’ll have plenty of adventures. And you’ll have new friends and more adventures will await you there,” he encourages.

She nods, cheeks still smushed back his hold. “You’re right. You’re right.”

He grins. “It’s why I’m the dad.” The two giggle and look through the photos, reminiscing about the trips. Luke hopes her future adventures are even better than these trips. He hopes and prays her future is brighter than he can ever imagine.

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