#I was just shocked that Baro reacted like this ^^

[reotheworld]

i'm sorry i've never done this before i'm still new to this app but if this DOES work i just wanted to share this scene i remembered/thought of??

«*last name *~ *last name *»

and the guy is obviously busy so he's responding mindlessly with, *if you like my last name so much, why don't i give it to you then?" (sounds like something reo would say tbh even tho i thought of isagi 😭)

and then.. a reaction? flustered, shocked, embarrassed etc

anyway its just a thought and i absolutely loved going through your work everything's just rly good (im really sorry if that sounds weird????) have a nice day take care :D

to give you a bigger love

❝ each day with you is heaven to me❞

➜ reacting to their s/o's response to "if you like my last name so much, why don't i give it to you then?"

➜ gn!reader

sugar level: 70%

the soccer player is too stunned to speak. looking away as they hide the tinge of pink on their cheeks.

reo, rin, chigiri, ness, isagi

they open their mouth to say something but they forget their words, so they close their mouth. they open their mouth to speak again to you but ultimately forgets again.

nagi, niko, kaiser, kira, bachira

walks away like nothing happened but is actually rejoicing on the inside like a high school boy.

baro, sae

[borom1r]

FUCK I HIT ASK TOO EARLY SMH

4 5 6 9 12 14 18 19 20 21 22 24 25 and 26 (freebie: favourite h/c or whump headcanons because I’m a Fiend) for Boromir, Faramir, Éomer, and Théodred >:)

ALSO SIR PLEASE STOP DOING HELLA FUCKIN EDIBLES TOO FAST 😭🤣 I WORRY

SKSDHJFKJSDJ TYYYYY

Boromir—

4. If you could put this character in any other media, be it a book, a movie, anything, what would you put them in?

UM. ok this is so fucking. this is SO DUMB but 1) Boromir is just inextricably tied to fantasy to me sorry BUT. im sticking him in The Sword and the Sorcerer bc i think if ANYONE deserves to get to mess around with a three-bladed magic rocket sword its Boromir

5. What's the first song that comes to mind when you think about them?

Shock Me! by Baroness

6. What's something you have in common with this character?

loyalty :3 also bad at quantifying my own emotions sdkjhfsdkjf

9. Could you be roommates with this character?

YE. i think i could totally be roommates w/ him

12. What's a headcanon you have for this character?

Boromir struggling with self harm impulses was sth that just kinda came up naturally in one fic + then got expanded on and now its. a very important hc to me actually, as some1 who also struggles w that

14. Assign a fashion aesthetic to this character.

HRM. this feels like a cop-out answer but truly from the depths of my heart i think modern AU Boromir just dresses like Sean Bean. he'd just dress like a dad

18. How about a relationship they have in canon with another character that you admire?

Boromir&Faramir sibling relationship is Everything to me forever + ever

19. How about a relationship they have in canon that you don't like?

huh. idk? i think all the relationships he has are interesting so there's no specific relationship that's bad on a fundamental level. like i think Denethor is a shit parent and i do not think he and Boromir have a GOOD relationship. but it IS narratively interesting

20. Which other character is the ideal best friend for this character, the amount of screentime they share doesn't matter?

HM. like Merry and Pippin obviously but also i do think he and Éowyn would get on like a house on fire if they got to meet.

21. If you're a fic writer and have written for this character, what's your favorite thing to do when you're writing for this character? What's something you don't like?

hmmmm i like putting him in situations where hes Loved. my Boromir/Théodred/Aragorn fic is one of my favs just bc i like Spoiling Boromir. he deserves to be spoiled sdjkfhsjk

i dont.. Know that theres anything i dont like abt writing him??? hes very cathartic to write

22. If you're a fic reader, what's something you like in fics when it comes to ths character? Something you don't like?

same answer as above pretty much :3 i love when hes treated with tenderness and love by the narrative

+ ive bitched abt this before but fics that just make him a brute are the woooooooooorrrssst. like. thats. thats so antithetical to even the most BASIC reading of his character. worsties how do u get him THAT wrong???

24. What other character from another fandom of yours that reminds you of them?

HM. HRM. idk :3 hes very special 2 me like he is THEE comfort character rn so idk anyone else off th top of my head where im like oh theyre Like Boromir

25. What was your first impression of this character? How about now?

i did not care abt Boromir when i was a child first getting into LotR. Sighs. i was a legolas + merry/pippin stan. NOW he is thee singular guy of all time forever. i wld die 2 defend him <33

26. FREEBIE QUESTION!! — favourite h/c or whump headcanons?

ok kinda already answered in 12 but i do love any fic exploring how Boromir reacts when like. it sinks in tht he doesn't have to shove everything aside to be this unbreakable pillar of strength. u know

Faramir—

4. If you could put this character in any other media, be it a book, a movie, anything, what would you put them in?

oh easy. The Last Unicorn. like again sorry ik its fantasy still but theres such a quiet melancholy to that story, and so much love and care.. I think Faramir would fit right in

5. What's the first song that comes to mind when you think about them?

Living Pyre by Khemmis

6. What's something you have in common with this character?

far too willing to sacrifice ourselves in search of approval

9. Could you be roommates with this character?

ye :3

12. What's a headcanon you have for this character?

he's so autistic. to me <3333333

14. Assign a fashion aesthetic to this character.

i feel like he wld rlly like corduroy. modern au i think he'd still lean fantasy-inspired for his fashion sense

18. How about a relationship they have in canon with another character that you admire?

Faramir&Aragorn and Faramir&Pippin friendships ilyyyyy

19. How about a relationship they have in canon that you don't like?

same answer as Boromir skjhfskjdf

20. Which other character is the ideal best friend for this character, the amount of screentime they share doesn't matter?

Aragorn!! autism2autism communication

21. If you're a fic writer and have written for this character, what's your favorite thing to do when you're writing for this character? What's something you don't like?

Faramir is so versatile w/ writing skjdfhskj i love him for angst, i love him for fluff... guy of all time (he deserves so many hugs)

he's very introspective so character studies are also very fun w/ him

(nothin i dislike wrt writing for him)

22. If you're a fic reader, what's something you like in fics when it comes to ths character? Something you don't like?

sth i like? love reading character study moments w him as much as i like writing them :3

dislike? woobification. he's an extremely capable soldier in his own right and captain of Ithilien's rangers. he does not need to be Babied

24. What other character from another fandom of yours that reminds you of them?

ties in2 my answer for four but the Lady Amalthea from The Last Unicorn actually. like again idk Faramir is so autistic-coded And trans To Me and just. yeagh. ethereal otherworldly magical creature trapped in a body that is fundamentally wrong + suddenly dealing w/ people who expect things of her that she just doesn't comprehend/expect certain reactions she cannot/does not give.

and her growing to love Lír because Lír takes the time to learn how to woo her in ways that truly work for her (instead of the ways princes are Supposed To woo their loves).

i think if Faramir got to watch/read The Last Unicorn it would rewire his brain love + light

25. What was your first impression of this character? How about now?

again i never rlly thought much abt him originally. now tho? [aragorn kinnie voice] thats my whole entire little brother

26. FREEBIE QUESTION!! — favourite h/c or whump headcanons?

HRM. i think he does wind up with burns on his torso/arms at Least. at least. i do like the tenderness of him letting Éomer help look after the scarring

Éomer—

4. If you could put this character in any other media, be it a book, a movie, anything, what would you put them in?

ummmm not so much sth i would put him in but i do think he should be allowed to marathon the Fast & Furious movies while intoxicated. fast cars hunky guys ridiculous stunts, 10/10 extremely fun

5. What's the first song that comes to mind when you think about them?

HM. ok this is like. in the context of Éomer/Faramir but Ride On by Cruachan

also Hulde Aan De Kastelein by Heidevolk

6. What's something you have in common with this character?

HRMGH. big fan of horses

9. Could you be roommates with this character?

uhhhhh yea?? maybe?? I feel like we might butt heads a little but not too bad

12. What's a headcanon you have for this character?

he’s nonbinary to me :3

at some point I’ll continue that post expanding on th theoretical overlap between Iron Age Norse conceptions of gender/mysticism and Rohan. but he is nonbinary To Me

14. Assign a fashion aesthetic to this character.

farmer fashion lmao. again modern au Éomer is like. jeans work shirts boots etc. purely practical clothing + 100% has a farmer’s tan

18. How about a relationship they have in canon with another character that you admire?

I love his relationship with Éowyn like I do love sibling relationships so much. also really love his relationship with all of the Three Hunters like they’re so funny together

19. How about a relationship they have in canon that you don't like?

same answer!! nothin I really dislike bc even his negative relationships are super interesting

20. Which other character is the ideal best friend for this character, the amount of screentime they share doesn't matter?

i genuinely really enjoy his + Gimli's banter i think they should get to be Actual Friends. that wld be a really fun dynamic i think

21. If you're a fic writer and have written for this character, what's your favorite thing to do when you're writing for this character? What's something you don't like?

again idk anything super specific?? soz skjhfsjk i feel like im giving lame answers but i will say i do think its very funny that every time ive written a sex scene with Éomer its been outdoors. no beds for that Rohir

22. If you're a fic reader, what's something you like in fics when it comes to ths character? Something you don't like?

hmmmm im a weak bitch for Éomer/Faramir fluff fics :3

for dislikes— similar vein to Boromir but fics that make him a brute or treat him like hes stupid. feels weird besties

24. What other character from another fandom of yours that reminds you of them?

HM. i feel like i Should have an answer for this but i dont -_-;; th brain has been on 24/7 LotR lockdown for. So Long now. so i try to conjure other characters n my mind goes Blessedly Blank

25. What was your first impression of this character? How about now?

look man. look when i first read lord of the rings all the way through, i was a weird trans autistic teen dealing with chronic depression and such a massive disconnect from humanity i was fully convinced i was a changeling. i was NOT paying attention to the Men in these books i was paying attention to one (1) elf and two (2) hobbits

impression of him now is [kinnie voice] brother in law :]

26. FREEBIE QUESTION!! — favourite h/c or whump headcanons?

touched on this briefly in one fic but i do think Éomer falls into a similar trap as Boromir where its like. "why should i bother Processing Emotions when i could kill 20-30 orcs instead. i will certainly not regret killing 20-30 orcs. wdym 'how am I feeling?'"

sth sth sth throwing himself recklessly into battle to combat crippling feelings of uselessness bc his cousin/practically his older brother is on his deathbed, his uncle is close behind and he's been exiled from his homeland, leaving his sister in the clutches of a skeezy little slimeball. getting hurt + not having the injury properly seen to until After bc, you know, he's got 20-30 Orcs To Kill

(don't be like Éomer. take care of yourself)

Théodred—

4. If you could put this character in any other media, be it a book, a movie, anything, what would you put them in?

idk how much this counts but i wrote a fic retelling the story of Aran + Asmund with Boromir + Théodred, so that :3

5. What's the first song that comes to mind when you think about them?

ok well i feel like Théo is such a blank slate character with how little we know of him in canon that i can't give as solid an answer, but I'll drop the songs I've used to title Théo-centric fics:

Shine by Baroness (Boromir/Théodred)

Blot by Månegarm (Boromir/Théodred/Aragorn) < this one fits my personal vibes for him extremely well

+ technically, My Mother Told Me (Théodred&Éomer&Éowyn)

6. What's something you have in common with this character?

Big Sibling w/ two younger siblings sdkfhd

9. Could you be roommates with this character?

ye!! we could vibe i think

12. What's a headcanon you have for this character?

Well Again, I Think Théo Is An Extremely Blank Slate. BUT Théo being trans is deeply deeply important to me

14. Assign a fashion aesthetic to this character.

modern au Théodred dresses practically when he needs to but otherwise very cozy. hygge is real and he Is embodying it

18. How about a relationship they have in canon with another character that you admire?

sth sth i feel repetitive im sorryyyyyyy but his sibling relationship w/ Éomer + Éowyn is SO important to meeeeeeeeee

19. How about a relationship they have in canon that you don't like?

Same Answer As Everyone Else lol

20. Which other character is the ideal best friend for this character, the amount of screentime they share doesn't matter?

BOROMIR. like i think they were more than best friends (wink) but also they are just. Best Friends. the basis for every lasting healthy relationship

21. If you're a fic writer and have written for this character, what's your favorite thing to do when you're writing for this character? What's something you don't like?

he's very lighthearted 2 write. i love writing silly lil romantic fics w/ him. nothin i particularly dislike sjnjsfd

22. If you're a fic reader, what's something you like in fics when it comes to ths character? Something you don't like?

i havent actually read any Théo fics other than the ones i wrote sorryyyyyyy sdnfsjdfhk

24. What other character from another fandom of yours that reminds you of them?

i think i have actually pulled some of my voice for him from Lír in The Last Unicorn and Taran in the later books from the Chronicles of Prydain, so there u go :3

25. What was your first impression of this character? How about now?

Forgot He Existed. now i have a big soft spot for him lol

26. FREEBIE QUESTION!! — favourite h/c or whump headcanons?

ok this was sth i totally misremembered based solely off of the supremely excellent skeeziness of Brad Dourif's performance and just the way he says "oh.... he must have died sometime in the night" when he visits Éowyn while she grieves... anyways i think that could easily be read as Gríma having sabotaged Théodred's recovery

[movedtoferinehuntress]

Baroness, what was it like being 'raised' by Silco and having Jinx as a foster sister? How does your Zaunite family compare to House Kiramman?

Caitlyn spun around in her chair, her head leaning back as she glanced over at Miss T. "Bold," She whispered, as she waved her finger for Miss T to come closer, encouraged by her deputy who took her shoulder and pushed her down into a chair in front of her desk. "Not sure why you believe you are privy to such information, but I'll entertain. No one really asked about what happened after I fell into that strait and found myself down in Zaun," Caitlyn said, as she waved her hand back as her Deputy stepped back, standing by the door; the only way in and out for escape.

"It should have been a culture shock, we are taught in Piltover that Zaun is this big, scary, monster, with no rules and just lives in chaos. Perhaps some of that is true, it's a very violent nature, but it's not senseless. Piltover likes to make themselves look so pretty in the light of their own monstrosity. Piltover isn't so different, they just put a mask on to hide the monster they are," Caitlyn said, as she picked up a switchblade and started to spin it in her hands. "Jinx was perhaps my first friend in Zaun. I never had friends in Piltover, I punched the people who made fun of me and then I was ridiculed for protecting myself. My mother would lock me away in the house and I never got to be me. Jinx didn't treat me like that, in fact, I almost felt like she took me under her wing even though I was older. What I saw so many years ago with the violence of Zaunites now became something I could embrace. Jinx encouraged it, and I thrived in it. I finally felt as if I belonged, as if… I mattered. No longer were my wings clipped, my beak taped shut and caged like a pretty little songbird," Caitlyn said as she stopped twisting the blade and slammed it into her desk.

"House Kiramman locked me away, they wouldn't let me be anything but their perfect little Kiramman daughter. I was to be molded in their shape, conformed, to be exactly like everyone else. I hated it," Caitlyn sneered, as if poison dripped from her tongue and the bitter anger glistened in her blue eyes. The shadow ran over her as she spoke before the neon lights that were briefly obscured came back into view and Caitlyn's eyes focused on her target in front of her. "Piltover is about control, if you do not fit into their mold, shaped by the councillors who control the city, then you are nothing. No form of expression, no individualism. The Kirammans did not care about me, only that their daughter took the position of heiress apparent to continue with the manipulations and lies. House Kiramman is not my family, and I will never associate with that again,"

A soft breath left her lips, as talking of her old family brought out bitterness and betrayal on her lips but then a smile replaced her thoughts as she waved her hand to the side. "With Silco though, he never once tried to cage me. In fact, his support and encouragement of my skills made me realize just how valued I was. I wasn't an heir or a pretty bird, meant to be seen but not heard. He would take me to meetings, cultivating my ability to see what others do not. I would shadow him, but never felt overshadowed. The chem barons never once blinked an eye at my way; perhaps because I was Piltovan or maybe because I was a child. That came with an advantage, one I eagerly embraced. I listened to him, took in everything he had to say; he was as observant and his ability to read people matched my own," Caitlyn reached over to grab a cup of tea, lifting it to her lips to take a sip as she watched Miss T right now, seeing how she reacted, what her eyes spoke. Language was not just words, it spoke in the body and the way one reacted. Setting the cup down, she gave a sweet smile again and waved her hand toward her with her palm up. "He was more of a father than Tobias or Cassandra could ever be. He could have easily killed me when I came down here lost and alone. From what I know now, I wouldn't blame him. A piltovan child of money and luxury? Why wouldn't he? Yet here we are, and everything I am is because of what he offered to me. Never by force, never by demand. He didn't mold me like a piece of clay, he guided me and encouraged my development. It's why my office reflects his, and why I take on a similar position," As Silco was a kingpin, she was a mob boss. As she read the habitus of people, silco did as well. She reflected his political rule in so many ways, she has her assassins while Silco had his shimmer monsters.

Caitlyn reflected on the man who raised her, and she didn't regret it.

"Now, the question Miss T, is what are you going to do with this information? I'm not sure it best if you walk out that door, so you better start telling me what you want with this truth," The smile slid from Caitlyn's lips, shadowed now with a glint of darkness as she stood up to lean over the desk, staring down at the other.

[banacafe]

“Don’t call me ‘Sunwoo’.”

[fae-knight]

The backstory i have written ~~so far~~ for my beloved DnDestiny OC Pyriks!

More below the read more

Pyriks: First life.

Pyrkis had never known true peace. All their life they and their House had been on the run, trying desperately to survive in a hostile world. They were House Dusk. A House relatively new to Guardians, but to the Eliksni it had existed for decades. Underground and hidden. Away from the prying eyes of other Houses but always welcoming to new members. Pyrkis was brought into the House by their birth parents. They died trying to get Pyriks to safety after deserting, escaping from House Devils. And their effort, their sacrifice was rewarded. Their only surviving child lived. Their legacy could be carried on.

But sadly their sacrifice was not to be remembered by Pyriks. Being a mere hatchling under so much stress made remembering such early memories difficult if not entirely impossible for them. Not that they ever tried to remember them anyway. They had 2 loving fathers who took them in when they were all alone in the world. Not knowing better and never being told otherwise, they just assumed these were their actual parents. Their names were Syfaks and Bykis and they were the people Pyriks loved most.

Pyriks was barely 17 winters old when the Cabal invaded the Solar System and the fighting started. The House had to be protected but Pyrkis was too young to fight. Instead, they offered to learn to smith, to repair, to create for the fighters and the rest of the House. So that they might count upon the armor they don, and return home safe. And it did seem to have it's effect. The better Pyriks grew in their skills the more Eliksni came home alive, the less were brought back lost to them.

And this continued for about 3 more winters. The fighting became more prominent in the lives of the House members and fewer and fewer returned home. The Barons tried to tell them that it was the armor's fault, that the weapons were not good enough. And perhaps they were right, in a way at least. All throughout the system there was talk of a new House. A House that spoke of peace for those who wished it. And there were those that wished for it. They were tired of the fighting, of having to wear the armor.

And Pyriks and their dads were too.

Syfaks and Bykis found an answer to their wishes, or, at least a partial one. Radio chatter was hot with word of The Spider, the leader of a House on the Tangled Shore. There was still talk of fighting, but no word of it being with Guardians. It was their safest bet of survival and so they took it. They managed to contact an associate and set up a rendezvous point during a supply run. But their communications with the associate were discovered by one of the Baronesses and she wished to make an example out of them to teach the rest what trying to leave would lead to.

But she would not do so in the safety of their home. No, she would give them hope. Hope for a better future. She would let it grow right until it was within reach. And then she would take it all away. Or at least, that’s how the plan was supposed to work out. But whether you call it fate, or maybe even destiny [Hehe], other plans were made for Pyriks and their family.

The day had arrived. They were packing whatever they could carry but wouldn’t be missed and said their last goodbyes to those close to them. Once they were done they left. They gave the place they called home for so long a last look and then turned away, hoping that they would never have to look back.

They made their way to the rendezvous point and met with Spider’s Associates. After some talking about what would be expected of them and moving what little stuff they had into the Skiff that was going to bring them to their new home. Right as they were putting the last of their belongings on the ship the Baroness saw her chance to strike, and so she did. She and a small group of subordinates opened fire upon the Skiff and it’s crew. The crew responded in kind while trying to get everyone safe inside the ship ready to fly off.

Wounded and scared, Pyriks barely escaped the crossfire. But their troubles did not end here. They were bleeding profusely, Ether was escaping from the wounds, they were not long for this world. With nowhere to go and nowhere to return to they fled into a nearby forest hoping that they would not be followed and discovered by their old House.

They kept running until they could run no more. Their body gave out, the last of their ether spent. They slumped down against a tree. The woods were quiet, save for the birds singing the songs of a new day. But those sounds slowly dulled as Pyriks lost focus, their eyes turning a dull grey. They died from violence, but surrounded by peace, witnessing their last sunrise.

Pyriks: First resurrection.

A year had passed since then, their body, or what was left, was overgrown with plants but continued to enjoy undisturbed peace. Until a small Ghost who was still looking for her one, her chosen, was scanning her way through the forest. She was scanning every rock she could see, every log or mound where she thought a person might be.

And so she came upon this shield of flowers and thorns, protecting a body from the rest of the world. But this would not do for the Ghost. she could sense the Light within the body. She connected with it and knew in an instant that this body would soon become the Guardian she had been searching for since her creation.

She gathered the Light around herself and like a guiding star, brought this body back to the path of life. But where she was expecting a human, awoken or exo to be, instead appeared an Elkisni, reborn in the Light, witnessing their first sunrise.

Pyriks: First meeting.

To say that she was shocked would be an understatement. She had never even heard of it being a possibility. Though she had been away from the City for quite a while, she was probably just out of the loop, she thought to herself. But never mind that. She had found her own Guardian and she would protect them no matter what.

The Ghost asked her Guardian for a name to call them, but the Guardian did not react. Their eyes were blue, but still dull, dull with pain and grief long since forgotten, but still felt. It was quiet until the Guardian spoke for the first time. "Pyriks" they said. No explanation followed, but their pained expression spoke a thousand words.

The Ghost nodded and told them that that was a fine name. But no reaction came. The Ghost decided to bump into Pyriks at a seemingly reasonable speed and managed to shake them out of their waking dream. The Ghost was about to ask if Pyriks would like to name her too, but a Robin's chirp caught Pyriks' attention first. What was that sound they asked her. "A bird's chirp" she replied. "...Chirp. I like that sound. I will call you that'' They said.

Pyriks: First City.

After getting to know each other a bit, Chirp proposed the idea to go to the Last City. With nowhere else to go Pyriks agreed and followed Chirp to what would become their new home.

Chirp managed to make contact with the City and explained their situation. With no way to make it to the City on foot all the way from the EDZ she requested for her and Pyriks to be picked up and transported to the City. The City complied with the request. It didn't take long for the ship to arrive and pick up the pair. And so they flew to the City, their new home.

After some time to settle in Pyriks was brought to the Eliksni Quarters to meet with Mithrax, Kell of House Light. Pyriks hadn't seen anyone who looked like them before and listened attentively to every word he said.

He asked them what house they belonged to. They could not answer. And so he offered them something: a place in House Light, a family within the City. Pyriks could not explain it, but the word "Family" made them think, made them want, made them need. They accepted Mithrax's offer and began meeting their new family.

After they had settled in once more they began tinkering with scrap, partially out of boredom, but also because it felt so familiar to them, like they had done it a hundred times before.

This hobby eventually turned into something more serious. With the Vanguard not certain about sending Eliksni Guardians out into the field they instead offered Pyriks a position in Banshee's shop. Helping him build and repair weapons and sometimes even armor.

They and Banshee grew to be close friends in no time, bonding over the care and passion that went into what they did. Pyriks continued to help the City in their own way, with their trusted Ghost and friend Chirp by their side every step of the way.

[stillebesat]

Breaking Nightmare’s Grip

Detective Conan/Magic Kaito: Kuroba Kaito, Hakuba Saguru Blurb: Struggling to come to grips with how his heist with Nightmare ended, Kaito ends up finding comfort from an unexpected source. (Takes place after the Dark Knight episode.) Fic Type: Hurt/Comfort Overall Fic Warnings: Death Talk, Minor Character Death mention. 

Ao3 Link  FF.Net Link

His hand was cold. Had been cold since Jack Connery had slipped from his grip, taking KID’s white glove with him as he plummeted to the floor below.

Let them go! Let the jewels go and grab my arm with both hands!

I can’t! This is Kenta’s--Kenta’s surgery. 

Kaito flinched, trying and failing to get Connery’s face out of his mind as he slid to the ground outside his bedroom door, pressing his back against the wall as he buried his head into his knees, the mask he’d been desperately trying to hold onto cracking as the weight of it all became too much to bear. Breath hitching, Kaito made no attempt to stop the hot wet trails that streaked down his cheeks. 

“Why?” He whispered into the darkness, his voice cracking.

Why. 

Why hadn’t Nightmare let go of those black opals and grabbed his arm? If he had he wouldn’t---wouldn’t be--

Kaito grimaced, trying and failing to no longer see Connery’s body falling away from his outstretched hand. 

Yet, he couldn’t stop replaying the moment. His mind desperately churning through various options, trying to find a way where it could have ended differently. Where KID could have saved Nightmare. Saved Kenta from having to now live without his father in his life. 

Kaito drew in another shuddering breath, his right hand spasming from the cold, from the phantom feeling of Connery’s fingers slipping out of his. 

There should have been something KID could have done differently. 

But no matter what he’d planned, how many possibilities he’d prepared for. He hadn’t expected Nightmare to end up...dead. 

He shuddered, curling up tighter into a ball. 

With how many times he’d had run ins with his favorite detectives on their cases where people ended up dead, he should be--well not reacting like this. He’d seen dead bodies before. Even talked to the victims before they--died.

He sh-shouldn’t be--

Kaito swallowed, struggling to get air into his burning lungs as his hand only seemed to grow colder. 

He hadn’t watched the life vanish from those people though. Hadn’t seen their last breaths. Hadn’t tried to sa--save---

The baka. 

He could have lived. 

If Connery had only let go of those stupid gems. If only he had thought more about saving his own life rather than--

Warmth.

Kaito jerked, head shooting up as someone’s hand took his own in a firm yet comforting grip. 

He blinked, breath catching in his throat at the shadowy silhouette crouched down in front of him. 

A silhouette he recognized despite his blurry vision. 

A silhouette that shouldn’t be here, in his house.  

“Ha-Hakuba?!” He asked, internally wincing as his voice again cracked. 

Kaito had no reason to be upset right now. Kaito shouldn’t be--be---mourning anyone’s death yet because Kaito has no idea what has happened and now Hakuba was here which meant there had to be some clue that lead Hakuba to him and now the Detective was--

“Shh.” Hakuba squeezed Kaito’s hand between both of his own. “Breathe, Kuroba-kun. I believe you may be going into shock.” 

Shock. Him? Go into shock? Ha. “Y-you sho-shouldn’t--be-be-”

“Here?” 

Kaito jerked his head in a nod, using his free hand to wipe his cheeks as he caught a glimpse of a smile in the faint light coming from the window. The Detective exhaled, shrugging a shoulder. “I’m only here as a…” His fingers twitched against Kaito’s. “As a concerned….friend. Nothing more, Kuroba-kun. So put that particular...worry away from you.” 

That was like telling a bird not to fly. A fish not to swim. A detective to not solve a crime scene. 

And as a friend? Kaito scoffed, fighting to draw the torn pieces of his mask back on. They were hardly friends. “W-worry?” He asked, conscious of how he should be freeing his hand from Hakuba’s grip. Only...it was warm. Warmer than the frozen empty void that had been present there since Connery’s hand had left his. 

Don’t THINK about THAT!

“Ov--Over--??” He drew in a deeper breath, rapidly blinking as he fought to keep eye contact with the Detective. “Why should I be-be worried? Be--because you...bro--broke into my house?” 

He was certain everything had been locked. After all, Kaito had entered from the skylight on the roof after discarding his KID outfit. He doubted the Detective would have taken that route.

Hakuba shifted, giving a slight bow with his head. “My apologies for the intrusion.” He said, simply. Formal as always. “As I said before…I was concerned.” 

Concerned enough to act more like a thief than a detective apparently.

Kaito brushed at his burning eyes, taking a more steady breath. Despite the reason...he was grateful to have someone else here. “Why?” 

Hakuba exhaled. “May I sit?” He asked, not waiting for Kaito’s response before he settled down next to him, hand never leaving his as he leaned against the wall. 

“I didn’t say yes.” Kaito muttered as the detective made himself comfortable.

“I came...because seeing death is never an easy thing.” Hakuba said just as softly. “Especially when the life of another is extinguished right in front of you.” 

“Me?”

“The general usage of you, Kuroba-kun. I am not here to insinuate any potential connections to a certain thief and his activities tonight..” 

Kaito rolled his eyes, hand trembling in Hakuba’s. He didn’t WANT to think about it. Think about how he’d failed. “I think you just did, Hakubaka.” 

“Apologies. Regardless.” He adjusted his grip on Kaito’s. “Tonight the others involved have found sources of comfort. I couldn’t help but feel...that since this---death can’t really be talked about due to certain implications. A certain individual would have no one to go to.”

That was true. With his mother who knew where, Aoko in the dark about his identity as KID and Jii still on vacation in France….he had no one. 

“And in this case...while I am probably not the best source to keep you company due to our...antagonistic history in school and my position as...a detective going after KID...I felt, regardless, that my presence may be of some help to you, even if it is a negative reaction. I felt it would be unwise for yo--ah...well...unwise to be left alone when...when...ah...KID isn’t often exposed to the--darker side of breaking the law, especially when it’s obvious KID tried to prevent--

Kaito tilted his head, studying Hakuba as the detective blabbered on. Nerves? Possibly. This was--well semi out of character for tantei-san. Phone calls before heists were one thing, but having him physically come here to...help?

The detective was right in one aspect though.

Kaito really didn’t want to be alone right now.

He exhaled. Dropping his head back to his knees. If this was a truce. He wasn’t of a mind to break it. Even if this was blurring the line between his ability to deny being KID a bit too much for his liking. 

“Baro, stop talking. It’s fine.” He said interrupting Hakuba as he squeezed his hand tightly. As tight as when he’d been trying to--to save Connery’s life. 

He needed something..someone to keep his hand from feeling the cool void that Nightmare’s presence had left, to keep his thoughts distracted from what had occurred earlier tonight. Even if that someone was Hakubaka. 

Kaito would figure out how to explain this...this break down later. Figure out just how the detective had entered his home. For now though… He took a breath, keeping his voice low as he felt Hakuba relax. “Thanks for coming.”

[torendheavenandearth]

1.2

“As they fought, Radya Indarapatra slashed Omaka-an one hundred and fifty times, but Omaka-an’s star body was not cut completely. The great starlight beast roared in laughter ‘YOU HAVE NOT CUT ME!’

Radya Indarapatra, the Immortal Heaven Hero of Mantapoli, sheathed his kampilan and responded: ‘The way a datu kills is not by cutting the body into pieces.’ And with that, the Omaka-an fell dead.” - Radya Indarapatra, the Hero of Mantapoli

▼

“W-Wait--” The demon lady grabs Angela’s hand--causing her to yelp--and pulls her away from the procession, walking past the throngs of people that are now rushing up to the procession with baskets of food and other trade goods. They walk-run almost expertly through the throngs of people until they arrive at a relatively sparse area that has bamboo stilt houses stacked on top of each other, connected by ladders and walkways and suspended bridges. Angela follows the demon lady up the ladders all the way to a fourth house upon a stack--the tallest ones only go for five stacks--and yelps again when the demon lady slams the door shut behind them.

Angela didn’t notice how hard she was breathing. She looks down upon herself and finds her skin sticky against the fluffiness of her hoodie.

“Your raiments,” says the demon lady, not looking like she had just run a sudden walkathon. “You should change. It is too hot and humid for that.”

“Yeah,” Angela says in between gasps for breath. “Tell me about it.”

“Remove them now. I have some clothing you can change into.”

Angela nods and removes her hoodie, revealing her school blouse underneath--a simple white blouse with a dark blue collar. She fixes her hair and puts the hoodie down on a wooden chair. The woman vanishes into the only room: a partitioned off part of the house.

While waiting, Angela looks about and inspects the house. Of course, the first strange thing she notices is how the bamboo stilt houses are stacked on top of each other. They had bamboo stilt houses back in the Philippines: nipa huts or bahay kubo they called them, but they were never built up like this. They look and feel like… strange, retro classical apartment complexes.

The house itself is relatively small, although there is more than enough space for two people. There is a sort of kitchen on the far side, where there is a stone top stove and some cast iron pots and pans. There is plumbing, Angela realizes, as she hears water swooshing down near her. The pipes are made of bamboo. There is a wooden table in the middle, and there are two chairs that flank it, both made of some sort of hardwood. Another table sits upon the corner in an L-shape, and upon it is a horrible mess of paper, flasks, alcohol, and ink.

Perhaps the most interesting thing to Angela here is the candle, which burns upon the table. There it illuminates a single piece of parchment. The flame that dances upon it, however, has eyes. When the being notices that Angela is looking at it too, its mouth opens. “Yo.”

“Y-Yo.” She lifts her hand up half-heartedly and waves in a non-committal wave.

“Name’s Muntiliyab. You?” 

Angela blinks.

“Muntiliyab,” says the woman, as she comes out of her room and gives her a stack of folded clothes. “Means ‘Small Blaze’. You should go change.” The lady herself has changed into a loose baro--one that has wide flared open sleeves-- that is made up of what looks like pina fiber, which makes the blouse somewhat transparent, allowing Angela to see the black brassiere that she has underneath. Her muscles are taut, and when she moves, Angela notices the outline of her abdomen.  Below that, the demon lady wears a beautifully colored white and red tapis. A tapis that is much too wide for her and shows off her pale leg through a slit.

Now, this is weird for Angela, since she’s used to having the tapis be put over the saya skirt. She supposes then that it’s the fashion here, and that it is somewhat freer to move in than others.

Another thing that’s now awfully obvious and striking through the see-through baro is that almost every inch below the demon lady’s neck is covered in tattoos. An intricate latticework of abstract depictions of snakes, the sun, swords, crocodiles, and eagles. They’re the traditional batuk tattoos that Angela had read about. Very similar to the ancient tattoos of Precolonial Philippines. Every part of her is covered in those tattoos, with the only parts not being covered seemingly being her neck and head, her hands, and her feet.

“Okay, but what’s your name?” Angela asks the demon lady.

The woman walks over to the kitchen and puts a pan on the stovetop, which is a simple steel grate with a couple of coals beneath it. The woman snaps her fingers once, leans in close to the coal, and then whispers something inaudible. In the next moment, a flame comes to life, dancing happily on the coals. “More stuff to cook?” the embers say and giggle. “What you got today?”

“Eggs,” replies the woman, cracking a few over the cast iron pan. 

“Gotcha. Leave it to me!”

Absentmindedly, Angela asks: “How can the fire talk…?” 

“Ang Nilapastangan. That’s my name,” says the woman, turning around. She has removed her salakot, showcasing her white hair and pink horns. She stares at Angela for a bit before shrugging and then turning back to the egg that she’s cooking. “But that’s a mouthful, so you can just call me Nila.”

Ang Nilapastangan. The Blasphemed. “O-Okay. Nila.”

There is a knock on the door. The sound of the rapping doesn’t even finish ringing out yet when the door swings open and in comes a tiny creature with black bulbous eyes and lanky arms and legs. Angela considers him tiny because he only goes up to her knees, and Angela already isn’t exactly the tallest of the lot. Additionally, he’s wearing a simple collarless white shirt, brown pants, and no slippers. Farmer’s clothing. “Nila! All right so about your taya in the cock-fighting ring--” he stops and then looks up at Angela. “--teka, who the fuck are you?” He turns to the demon lady. “Nila who the fuck is this?”

Angela blinks and then looks down at him. “Are you a duwende? Like the ones from outside the village?”

The duwende freezes. And then, like a sudden whistle, his bolo is out, flashing, pointing at Angela, ready to skewer her right here and then. Due to the duwende’s size, the bolo looks like a longsword in his arms.

Angela yelps and takes a step back, slamming onto the rattan wall of the nipa hut. The clothes in her arms fall onto the bamboo slat floor of the house, scattering into a messy heap. Before Angela can react, the duwende boy is up clinging on the wall that she’s backed into and, with his bolo pressed against her neck, snarls: “I knew it! You’re some kinda underworld spy! I’m never going back, you hear?!”

Angela blinks, but the shock of the moment blocks her thinking, and she cannot speak.

“Calm down, Makabintang, you’re jumping into conclusions again.” Ang Nilapastangan is behind the duwende, lifting him by his neck and then throwing him against the wall on the other side, narrowly missing the window. The boy doesn’t slam onto the wall but instead flips in the air and lands on his feet.

“What if she’s some sorta duwende glamour that’s trying to get me back into the under-lungsod?” He shouts without missing a beat as if he hasn’t just been thrown against a wall and would’ve been falling out a four-story tall complex if Ang Nilapastangan had aimed just a bit wrongly.

“The duwende don’t care about you,” replies Ang Nilapastangan. She turns to Angela, who’s still pressed up against the wall, and tilts her head up by pushing her chin up with her fingers. Ang Nilapastangan checks if there are any wounds from the bolo. Angela feels time slow down, and she feels the very deliberate decision of gulping.

When Ang Nilapastangan confirms that no wounds have been left, she sighs and nods. “Angela, this is Makabintang. Makabintang, Angela.”

Angela nods. She doesn’t say anything. “Angela, go into the room and change.” Angela nods again and follows Ang Nilapastangan’s orders.

Ang Nilapastangan picks up the clothes that have been scattered on the floor and gives them to Angela. Angela takes them and walks into the room. With that done, Ang Nilapastangan turns to Makabintang. “Now, what are you doing here?”

Makabintang still squints at her. He drops down to the ground and “sheathes” his bolo by shoving it behind him. When he lets go of it, the bolo is nowhere to be found. “You’ve pre-betted on the next big sabong fight right?”

Ang Nilapastangan nods as she walks over to what she’s cooking. She removes the already cooked egg, cracks another one onto the pan, and then places a few pieces of pork tocino onto the pan. “Tocino?” asks the flame. Ang Nilapastangan nods, and the flame shrugs seemingly in response.

“Well, the fight? It’s been canceled. The authorities are tightening up for some reason. There’s been no announcement or official missive. The Guwardya Sibil are just coming in and stopping everyone from doing stuff.”

Ang Nilapastangan sighs. “I think I know why.” She turns and glances at the room where Angela’s changing.

The duwende blinks. “And?” He turns to the door and blinks in confusion. “Uh, what are you glancing at the room for?”

“The Hagdanan. It has begun.”

Makabintang works the cogs in his mind. He smirks and then shakes his head. “No, all right, let me get this straight. THE Hagdanan has begun? That thing that all the old people talk about but doesn’t really happen? The one that old babaylan would cryptically talk about but no one believes? THAT Hagdanan?”

Ang Nilapastangan nods as she begins placing the fried eggs and tocino upon a porcelain plate. 

“THE Hagdanan, that I never thought I would be able to see in the 32 years of my life. It’s happening right now?” As he says that, Angela appears out of the room--which curiously only had a banig, a rattan mat for sleeping on, a box or stack of presumably Nila’s things and valuables, most of them simply scattered across the floor, and what looked to be a small wooden shrine with a single wooden idol seated atop them. That idol is mostly made of wood, with a strange crown rising from her head, shaped like the rays of the sun encircling a great turban, and then the idol is depicted as sitting, while their two other pairs of arms are stuck in strange poses, as if mid-movement to attack. 

A larawan, Angela somehow recalls.

Angela has shed her school blouse and skirt for a longer saya that reaches her calves and a shorter, thinner, and lighter fabric baro, colored the brightest yellow. The sleeves were left widely open, instead of the other baro she’s seen before, so Angela appreciates the movement and the brisk cool air that now wraps around her body, unimpeded by her hoodie. That hoodie she has neatly folded and put into a corner in Nila’s room.

Ang Nilapastangan nods in approval of her new change of clothes. “I suppose we owe you an explanation.”

Angela scoffs. “That’s an understatement.”

“Wait,” the insufferable Makabintang interjects again. “She’s not from here?”

Ang Nilapastangan shakes her head. “She is not of Sansinukob at all.”

Angela nods. “Yeah I’m from the Philippines, I think.” Angela then begins picking up the pieces of clothing she’d dropped and put it on the table next to her. Ang Nilapastangan gestures for her to remove it from the table as she puts the tocino and egg on the table. “I… I think I’m remembering a bit. Although I can’t remember past a certain night.”

“Philippines? What the fuck is a Philippines?”

Angela snorts. “Some say it’s hell.”

“Impyerno?” asks Makabintang.

“The food is ready,” Ang Nilapastangan interjects. She turns to Makabintang, raising an eyebrow. “And I know why you’re really here.”

“What’re you talking about? I got here because I had to deliver the sabong news!” he says as he hops up on one of the chairs flanking the table and beginning to feed on the tocino and egg. Nila also puts a bowl of rice on the table. 

“Come and eat,” says Nila to Angela. “We have a long explanation ahead of us. But perhaps, this is a good time to explain a bit about yourself?”

Angela shakes her head. “Like I said…” she says as she sits down on a carved wooden chair. Nila takes it upon herself to give her a cup of rice and some tocino and egg. “...I don’t remember much. Just what happened that night.”

“That night?” asks Makabintang.

Angela nods. “The night where… where I was taken by those strange beings made of flame? I was stolen by a creature of burning blue fire.”

“An Anghel,” says Makabintang.

“Not just an Anghel. A Serapin. You were abducted by the group known as Para sa Luklukan.”

Makabintang blinks once and then turns to Ang Nilapastangan. “Are you sure, Nila? THAT Luklukan?”

Angela lets out a short, amused snort at that. “Is that what you usually say Makabintang every time Nila says something?”

“What’re you--shut up.” Makabintang rolls his eyes and goes back to devouring his food.

Angela turns to Ang Nilapastangan, but she is staring straight into her spoon, her brows furrowed and her mouth in a downward curve. Angela waits for her to finish her rumination.

After a full minute of stillness, she says: “Para sa Luklukan is, in the simplest terms, a sort of mortal trafficking ring conducted by the anghel. Anghel being the servants of the Holy Trinity. They are probably called Angels in other languages and universes--that word came from anghel after all. Now the purpose of the Ring is more or less unknown. Some say it's for some strange ritual. A blood sacrifice, some underground circles say, to revive God. Others say it's to keep providing souls to the Holy Trinity, since apparently their diyostek works not on electricity but on souls and diwata since those are the ones that burn with Gahum.”

Makabintang is nodding. Angela is blinking in confusion. “All I understood is ‘mortal trafficking ring’,” says Angela. “So, what, I was a victim of some illegal smuggling operation?”

“An interdimensional angel-led smuggling operation that’s right,” answers Makabintang in between bites.

“Thanks, really helpful,” Angela mutters under her breath.

“But what’s interesting is that it coincides with the Hagdanan--” Angela opens her mouth to say something, but Ang Nilapastangan doesn’t stop, “--the Hagdanan is a multiversal blood competition wherein one hundred and fifty souls are transported into Sansinukob and made to fight against each other to find out who is strong enough to be the next MAYKAPAL, the creator of the next universe.”

Angela blinks. “What?”

If Ang Nilapastangan noticed Angela’s confusion, she doesn’t show it. “There have been three so far. The first two Hagdanan have all ended in bloodbaths where no one won. That was the preferred outcome, I am told. The Trinity gets to keep their hold in this current universe.”

“What about the third one? Did someone win?” asks Angela.

“Yes. In the third Hagdanan, after growing into godlike power and killing the rest of the contestants in a bloody duel to the death, someone finally won.”

“Who?”

Ang Nilapastangan goes back to eating a piece of tocino. “Me.”

▼

Angela blinks. She looks up and down the demon lady, at Ang Nilapastangan, at the horns that grow out of her brow and her weird, edgy red and black eyes. “So… you have the power to become the next MAYKAPAL?”

Ang Nilapastangan shakes her head. She opens her mouth to say something more before she is interrupted by a thud-thud-thud on her door. All three of them suddenly pause, as if some invisible god grabbed them by their necks. Angela looks at Ang Nilapastangan and Makabintang, blinking rapidly in confusion.

Ang Nilapastangan turns to the door and squints. “Angela, hide in the room. Makabintang, keep eating.”

“On it,” says Makabintang, doing a small kind of salute, before going back to devour his food.

Angela follows Ang Nilapastangan’s orders again, walking into the room and closing the door, although she keeps a small slit open so that she can peek out and see what’s happening. When Ang Nilapastangan is sure that Angela is hidden, she walks up to the front door and flings it open. 

On the other side of the door are two beings wrapped in that strange armor. Both of them look like perfectly handsome human males: one has dark red hair and the palest of skin, the greenest of eyes. In his back is strapped a shield, and then on a scabbard is a strange bulky sword. His posture is lax, leaning against the railings of the walkway.

The one that opens his mouth to speak is wearing a pure black coat that falls to his knees. Within he wears something that looks like a kevlar vest. He has white hair that is slicked back, and he has a European style saber that he holds in one hand. He stands with his back straight, his shoulders held back.

They both stood a full two heads taller than Ang Nilapastangan, but she--wearing that loose baro and tapis--somehow looks as if she’s looking down on them.

“Good day. We are the Celestial Sword wing of the Hukbong-Katihan and we’ve come to ask a few questions if you wouldn’t mind, binibini.” Hukbong-Katihan? The land army? Thinks Angela to herself, as the words are familiar to her.

Ang Nilapastangan puts her hand on her hip. “What is the Hukbong-Katihan doing here in the lowly village of Laurel? And even more so: coming to a random balay in the stacks?”

The white-haired one’s eyes flicker to where Angela is. For a split second, she could’ve sworn that she saw him stare at her. “I would suggest that cooperation is in your best interest,” says the white-haired one. His grip on his saber is loose, relaxed. “We have spent the last few days tracking down a young lady that has escaped our care. We are supposed to be rehabilitating and helping her get accustomed to Biringan life.”

“Oh yeah?” from out of one of her sleeves, Ang Nilapastangan brings out a cigar and lights it with a snap of her finger, which causes her finger to glow a bright red. She drags one out and then blows the smoke into the white-haired one’s face. The red-haired one’s face grows wild, like a tiger finding prey, and he surges forward, but the white-haired one simply blocks him with his hand.

“Yes,” says the white-haired one, staring at the red-haired one and then back at Ang Nilapastangan. “Look here, Ang Nilapastangan. We do not need to do this smoke and mirrors--”

“--heh--”

“--simply surrender to us the girl and you will go undisturbed for the rest of your days. I am sure that is in your best interest, yes?”

It’s raining outside, Angela notices. The water streaming down behind the two men is harsh. A storm?

Thunder roars. 

Definitely a storm.

Angela can feel the bamboo slat floors beneath her rattling. Vibrating. As if in anticipation.

She looks up at Ang Nilapastangan once again. Her feet are glowing that same hot crimson color, and the bamboo slat floor beneath her is… smoking?

“I’m kinda stupid,” says Ang Nilapastangan. “I don’t always choose the things that are in my best interest.”

And then, in conjunction with a bolt of lightning striking the ground behind them, the white-haired one’s hair blazes into a bright blue, and a halo of swords materializes behind his head. He unsheathes his saber at the same time as Ang Nilapastangan flicks her cigar towards him and then swings her foot. The blue one isn’t able to do anything but raise his saber’s blade to block her kick.

Ang Nilapastangan’s glowing foot, on the other hand, connects with his blade and sends him flying straight out of the small platform he is standing on and into balay on the other side of the street. After that, she turns around and closes the door. 

“So the Hagdanan has begun,” Ang Nilapastangan turns to Angela. “And the Para sa Luklukan has been a bit more proactive in looking for new people to smuggle. Something smells fishy, and they definitely sound connected.” She walks over to Makabintang and picks him up by his neck. “You’re going to help me get the cute little girl out of here, klaro?”

“Wh-what? What the hell are you talking about?” She throws Makabintang straight through the door and into the room where Angela is hiding. Makabintang slams against the rattan walls and he groans as he slides to the floor. 

Before long, he picks himself up and starts walking back towards the other room. “Now you listen here ya lil puta, you’re going to--”

Before he can say anything else, however, Ang Nilapastangan is struck through her chest with a saber as the blue man suddenly materializes behind her, seemingly out of thin air. The entire front portion of the hut is ripped away by a wild wind. The blue man now has a pair of blazing azure wings exploding from his back. 

Behind Makabintang and Angela, the wall is ripped open by a crimson sword, wielded by the red-haired man. Now he’s wearing a strange a smiling mask: one of the Pained Saint, and crimson wings are exploding from his back. A crimson and azure angel duo.

Angela screams. Makabintang curses: “Putangamang diyos ko!” My bitch father god!

A flood of events happens in that Setsuna moment and somehow, Angela manages to reasonably keep track of it: she sees Ang Nilapastangan roll her eyes and slam her heel against the Azure Angel, this time causing him to double over. And then, with her bare hands burning a bright scarlet and her white hair burning an ashen pale white, she grabs the Azure Angel’s halo of swords, tears it in two with her bare hands, and then clamps them together at the Azure Angel’s neck, ripping the being’s head straight off.

Seemingly in response to that, the Crimson Angel roars in agony and wrath. Makabintang screams in terror. Angela is speechless: shock is a hell of a muter. The Crimson Angel surges toward Ang Nilapastangan, raising his bulky sword and shield. 

The Scarlet Demon that is Ang Nilapastangan, however, turns and throws the halo of swords--now bloody with a strange, stringy blue ichor--at the Crimson Angel, who blocks the attack with his shield, but Ang Nilapastangan has already begun to run. When the Crimson Angel lowers his shield to see, Ang Nilapastangan is already in the air in front of him, her entire body in the positioned in the form of a dropkick. 

Ang Nilapastangan bellows: “「YAWA UPENDS HEAVEN STYLE: CONTINENTAL DROPKICK!」” Somehow, Angela sees those words materialize into the air beside Ang Nilapastangan, turning into a strange, blocky script that somewhat resembles a mix of badlit and baybayin. Angela can somehow read it, despite having never seen the writing before. It simply says “Kontinental Hulog-Sipa”. Yes, she read it in Tagalog, and she has no idea why. 

The Continental Dropkick slams directly into the Crimson Angel’s face. There’s a second of impact--a sudden pause as the universe decides to catch up with the daring action, as if It couldn’t quite believe it either--and then the hit registers. The Crimson Angel is sent flying straight out of the house, so fast that there is an afterimage of the Angel that shatters when the dropkick follows through.

Ang Nilapastangan falls to the floor and then kicks herself off of the ground, Chinese getup style.

The moment afterwards is a strange lull in excitement and noise. A sudden silence, like that strange instant between inhale and exhale. 

Makabintang is fucking wheezing. “Nila, you’re showing off your power level!”

“Shut up,” says Ang Nilapastangan, turning to the both of them. She’s still glowing red, and her hair moves as if it's underwater, floating up and staying suspended unless she moves her head in such a way that tugs the strands along. She turns to Angela: “Angela, come with me. We have to leave this entire barangay.”

“What?” asks Makabintang, rising to his feet and going over to the table to grab the last piece of tocino that hasn’t been burnt to crisp. “Leave Laurel? You can take those Anghel on I mean come on, you just fucking dropkicked one of ‘em!”

Nila shakes her head. “There will be more of them, and they will be chasing after me once word gets out.”

“Word of what?”

“Word of my survival.”

Angela blinks. “Why not just kill them all? Don’t you have the same power as MAYKAPAL? That would make you God.” She tilts her head as she thinks. Back in the Philippines, the term ‘Bathalang Maykapal’ is synonymous with God. As in, the Almighty God that one can find in monotheistic religions. 

Ang Nilapastangan shakes her head, however. “That was all a fucking lie. No mortal person will be able to have the same ‘power’ of MAYKAPAL. It’s an impossibility. No one is going to ascend to the throne: it’s already been taken and shat upon by the Holy Trinity. 

“No, the Hagdanan has only one purpose: 

“To find those strongest, those that are the biggest threats to the Trinity, and kill them.”

Next Chapter

Return to the Table of Contents.

[ginnyzero]

Completely Harmless Ch. 23

Completely Harmless An SSO SilverGlade Re-imagining Story (Or Fix it Fan Salt fic) By Ginny O.

When Lily and her friends wanted to buy horses and were directed to the Silverglade Manor and its myriad of problems, they didn’t expect to start a revolution. They were just a bunch a stable girls. Completely harmless. Right?

A/N: Things are only canon if I say they’re canon. Pre-Saving the Moorland Stables compliant for the most part. Posted in its entirety on my website. Posted in 2000 to 4000 word bits here. Rated T for Swearing Word Count 177,577

Chapter Twenty-Three Mr. Fussywithers

Bjorn was in charge of drilling the holes in the wall for the dynamite sticks to go into. Then they’d put the sticks in the holes when he was done, attach the wires, run the wires out towards the road or under the bridge towards the Moon Garden, wait until everyone was out of the way, and then detonate the charges.

So, first, this meant making sure that they had fences set up to keep people out. Good thing Bjorn had thought ahead and kept some of the fences that G.E.D. had been using.

“Waste not, want not,” he said in a matter of fact voice.

They set up the fences to his specifications. Then he gave them hard hats. “All right ladies, while I start drilling, what you’re going to need to do is get some wheelbarrows. I’ve got the truck parked. You’re going to load up the wheelbarrows, then load up the truck. When we’ve got a full load, I’ll take it off to the track site to make into concrete later.”

They all nodded as if this made perfect sense. They jogged off to get shovels and wheelbarrows that had ended up scattered around the garden from their efforts of clearing off the weeds.

“Better get the rakes too,” Pauline said.

“Brooms for the dust,” Stacy murmured.

They came back with barrows full of tools.

Bjorn wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. “Gotta put your back into this to do it right.” He told them with a grin. “Right, the first holes are drilled. Let’s see that dynamite.”

They pried open the boxes with a handy pry bar and some hammers retrieved from the stable.

Bjorn picked it up and examined. “Looks like the stuff. All right, what we’re going to do is cut it down so it doesn’t explode too much.” He brought out what could have been a cigar cutter and showed them how. “Mind your fingers. Wear your gloves.”

They blanched and nodded rapidly.

They cut the first sticks down at his direction and inserted them into the holes he’d drilled into the rock. He showed them how to attach the wires and then they wound the wire out towards the road where a couple other girls had been sent to set up the blast box.

Attaching the wires to the blast box, they were forced to find a hat and fill it with names to see who would press down on the handle and send the first electric spark. Brittany won.

Agnetha and Bjorn moved clear.

“Fire in the hole!” She shouted and gleefully shoved the handle down.

The spark went along the wires and at first there was a puff of smoke, then the dynamite exploded, shaking the ground and breaking up the rock in a great burst of dust, tiny shards of rock, and smoke.

They cheered. Even if they weren’t entirely sure what they were cheering for.

Bjorn chuckled. “Whelp, this would go faster if we had a better way to communicate.”

“James’ walkie talkies!” Lily said.

“James has walkie talkies?” Regina asked.

“Oh, long story,” Lily rubbed her forehead. “I’ll go over and borrow them with a bit of blackmail.” She rolled her eyes. “If he wants help with his photography project, he’ll loan us those walkie talkies. I’ll be back!”

“Photography project?” Elsa murmured.

“I’m not sure if I want to know if it’s James,” Stacy said in a soft voice.

They all had to agree on that, but Pauline having sat through the meeting regaled them in detail about James’ current antics. Bjorn supervised the filling of the wheelbarrows, stopping them before they were too full. “This is rock, not weeds and dirt, girls.” He reminded them.

The girls all reacted in various degrees of outrage and shock about James as they pushed wheelbarrows half full of rock. (Completely full could be too heavy and Bjorn didn’t want them making it too heavy.) They worked together to heft the barrows into the truck and dump them out before going back for more. This was definitely at least a five person job.

--

Lily crossed her arms and looked down at James. “I’m singularly unimpressed.”

“I need them,” James gestured with his hands.

Lily raised her brow. “To continue your scam with Mayor Peanut?”

James flushed. “You don’t understand. The tourists love him.”

Lily sighed. “James, did it occur to you, I don’t know, that entering a pony into the race for Mayor was a bad idea?”

James shifted on his feet. “I didn’t think anyone would vote for him.”

“Which says a lot about the lack of quality of candidates around here,” Lily looked around. Pia was in an argument with some of the vendors it looked like. Lily wasn’t sure if she cared to know.

Pia’s voice drifted over. “If we clear this area of shops and combine your goods, then we can attract tourists with an art fair or performers!”

“Right,” Lily muttered. “I’m going to stay out of that one. Look James, you seem bright.”

James blinked. “Seem?”

“Until you start trying to defraud people. Which, by the way, is a crime.”

James blinked rapidly.

“So, your schemes could get you in a lot of trouble one day after someone starts looking at you and doesn’t see kid.” Lily patted her horse’s neck. “Then, you’ll lose everything you’ve gained.”

James opened and shut his mouth.

“But you’ve got ideas, and some of them are pretty damn good ideas.” Lily met his eyes. “If you want them to succeed at being good ideas, you’re going to have to put the work into them.” She wrapped the reins around her hand. “We’re willing to help you. Not do 99% of the work for you.”

James flushed. “But I’m not a photographer.”

“Then, dear God in heaven, why did you think that taking photographs of Token was a good idea and not giving Pia the credit she deserves?” Lily’s voice turned tart. “If you think Pia is that great of a photographer. You have an idea, James. But Pia, by all rights, can take whatever plush she likes, run around South New Jorvik County herself, and publish a book so her name will be on the cover, and she gets the royalties if she’s going to be the one doing the work. Getting a publisher and an agent before you even had the photography is,” Lily trailed off. “Talk about putting your cart before your horse to use a Jorvik appropriate metaphor.”

“All right. All right. I get it. I messed up.”

“I think you owe Pia an apology about thinking her work and labor is worth so little.”

James gulped. “What do you mean? How hard it is to pose a stuffed animal and snap a picture.”

“Oh James,” Lily sighed. “For a professional quality picture, there are going to be hundreds of photos and thousands of shots and experimentation with the time of day and the shutter speed and what about the posing, hats, no hats, scarves?”

“Oh,” James pushed at his glasses. “I didn’t think of it like that.”

“And she’ll have to figure out a way to protect your plush, or else Token could get really dirty.”

James’ eyes widened. “Uh,” he bit his lip. “I don’t want him to get hurt!”

“And neither would she, so she’d have to take extra care that he doesn’t.” Lily raised her brows. “You’re getting a reputation as a user, James. And well, someone who’s dishonest. And that’s going to get around and run away business.”

James sputtered.

“So, I suggest you come up with a story like Mayor Peanut has laryngitis and let me borrow those walkie talkies and we’ll come up with a way to salvage your abysmal reputation. But it will take work on your part and some sincere apologies to your fellow business community members.”

“You don’t understand,” James whined.

“You grew up poor. Got it.” Lily snapped.

James jumped. “How?”

“You’re a grifter, James. That was the next tactic, some sob story to make me feel bad for you, so you wouldn’t have to change a bit.”

James flushed.

“Now, you can continue to play the small game, or you can play by our rules and see the bigger picture. That starts with being a good citizen helping out the representative of the Baroness.” Lily held out her hand and opened and closed her fingers.

James sighed. He pulled the walkie talking out of his back pocket and slapped it into her hand. He marched over to Peanut the pony, and dug the one out of his hat. “I already lost money from Ferdinand because of Pia’s meddling.”

“James,” Lily said in a low voice. “Honest, upstanding, member of the business community, that is your goal. Eyes on the goal.”

James handed her the second walkie talkie. “It was a good deal.”

“For you,” Lily looked down her nose at him.

“Ferdinand got what he wanted,” James whined.

“You weren’t exercising them. You were renting them out to tourists who may or may not know how to ride properly. That’s a recipe for disaster and it won’t come back to Ferdinand. It will come back to you. If people get seriously hurt riding horses that haven’t been trained or exercised properly before being taken out, then they could sue you for lots of money.”

James sputtered.

Lily lifted her chin and raised her brows. “You can’t have a stable and have it be empty.”

James shifted on his feet. “I don’t have money to buy horses.”

Lily crossed her arms. “Then perhaps you’re going to have to keep renting from Ferdinand until you do and not try to steal people’s money with ridiculous fines in order to buy said horses.” She pulled her phone out of her pocket and hit speed dial. “Linda, this is Lily.” She smiled. “Yeah, I know you have caller ID. Hey, I’m sitting here in front of James, and he doesn’t have the capital to buy horses from Ferdinand at full price. Are there any yearlings left that you sold to us?”

James stared at her.

“I’ll bring him along and you can help him pick out some nice, docile, good for beginners, easily trainable, trail riding horses,” Lily said. “Thanks Linda.” She turned off her phone. “Okay, Jamsie, here is the deal. The horses at the Silverglade Equestrian Center are 350 Shillings each since it was a really good or bad year depending for foals. The bad news is that they’re all three year olds and are still settling into their personalities. The good news is that with the right training they won’t have any bad habits to undo. You can rent ponies for the kids from Ferdinand until you start making money. You’ll have to pay someone like Pia and the girls to train them to be good trail riding horses, but you’ll have your own horses. They’ll need to be fed, exercised, the stable cleaned. Oh, wait, you have a club here. So, pay them to help you.” Lily waved a hand at Pia.

Pia ran over. “Hey, Lily.”

“Lily, I’m taking James to pick out some of the yearlings at the Winery to be trail riding horses here. Linda and the Baroness are willing to give him the same deal they gave to us. The caveat being that someone is going to need to look after them and make sure they’re being fed quality food and given clean water.”

“I’d never!” James yelped.

The two girls gave him a look.

Pia pushed her hair back. “I think that the girls and I are going to take up a collection and buy into your stable, James. Just to keep you honest.”

James sputtered.

“The more people, the more responsibility gets spread around,” Lily said lightly. “And the more hands to do the work.”

“And we’d have vested interest that way in training the horses,” Pia nodded. “We’d also have a place to board ours and the fees can come out of our salaries.”

James opened and shut his mouth as Lily glared at him.

“The fees will be standard market rates,” Pia said. “Which, we’ve been researching.”

Lily smiled. She held out her hand. “Up you come, James. I’ll give you a call, Pia, when he needs help herding them back.”

“Herding?” James said. He stared at her hand. “I, um, don’t really know how to ride.”

“Well, then we’ll have to teach you. Can’t have a stable owner not knowing how to ride,” Pia quipped. She smiled at Lily and it was rather evil.

“We’re taking a transport,” Lily said. “It is what, three hundred feet.”

James took her hand and she helped him swing up onto the back of her horse. “It won’t be long. I’m sure Linda is sorting the horses out now,” Lily told Pia. She nudged her horse into a walk.

“Why is it so far down?” James gulped.

Lily sighed.

“I’ll have the money ready and we can do our transaction at the bank when we get back,” Pia said sweetly.

“You trapped me,” James accused Lily as they rode past the stone wall and out of Pia’s hearing range.

“You trapped yourself,” Lily said. “If you’d been honest and above board from the get go, it wouldn’t have come to this.”

James frowned. “Then I wouldn’t be making any money.”

“No. You probably would have made more because people would have relied on you to be a good trader. You don’t know how much money you’ve lost because you’ve given people shoddy goods and they’ve gone to someone else,” Lily said. “I doubt you’ve had a lot of repeat customers.” She urged her horse into the horse trailer.

The engine started and the truck pulling the trailer drove slowly away. They could see the countryside passing outside the windows.

James didn’t say much. “Why are you doing this for me?” He asked quietly, in a very small voice. “I upset your friends. You called me a user and a fraud.”

“Because, I think with the right guidance and the right people around you, James, that you can be a good force for this county.” Lily glanced over her shoulder at him. “You want to succeed. You want Fort Pinta to succeed. You put in the best you’ve got and do the work. And we’ll be here helping every step of the way, because we’re stronger together than we are apart. Don’t view the Pony race as competition. Don’t view the Fort Pinta Beach Party as a rival. Those are opportunities to help Fort Pinta and Jorvik grow. If someone rents a pony from you and go and does the pony race with Penny and Polly, that’s not a loss, that’s a win for Fort Pinta and South New Jorvik County as a whole. The more money they spend, the more money goes into the County and the better everyone can live.”

James grumbled.

“Other peoples’ visions may be different than yours, it doesn’t make them wrong,” Lily said evenly. The transport pulled to a stop behind the S.E.C. stables. The door fell open slowly, the electronics whirring.

Lily backed her horse out and rode through the arch stopping under the dome.

Linda came out of the sell side. “I think I’ve got them sorted. Howdy James, I’m Linda. I’m friends with your sister, Alex.”

“I know,” James ducked his head.

“You first,” Lily said.

James slowly got down, not entirely sure how to do it. “So, about these horses.”

“You have a race and also rent for trail rides, right?” Linda said. “These are good racing horses, and also are trainable enough to be trail riding horses. I’d send someone out with them that has experience though.”

Lily cleared her throat. “Pia is the President of the Fort Pinta Pinto Ponies Club and they’re willing to buy in. They can lead the rides. I need to take these walkie talkies off to Bjorn and Agnetha for our tunneling project.”

Linda nodded. “I’ll show him the horses.”

Lily rode off quickly.

Linda put her arm around James’ shoulders. “How many scoldings have you had?”

“Three, so far,” James slouched.

Linda pursed her lips. “All right. Consider yourself scolded a fourth time. I’m doing this for Alex, James. Because she loves you and wants to see you succeed.”

James gulped.

Linda tugged him into the stable to look at the horses. She explained their finer points to James as they waited for Lily to return.

By the time she did, one of the stallions had taken to James, playfully grabbing his hat and running off with it. Linda laughed and said that James had made a friend, that the stallion was definitely his horse. Or he was the stallion’s human.

Lily leaned over. “Isn’t that Fussywithers?”

“Yep,” Linda chortled.

Fussywithers was only a nickname, because the young stallion as fussy and finicky. His water had to be absolutely fresh. His food just right. His stall perfectly clean and pristine. There was no margin of error with Mr. Fussy.

Lily giggled. He was the perfect horse for James. Funny, how the horses that everyone found were the ones they needed. She dialed up Pia and told her to come get James and his new best friend.

FOR THE ACCOMPANYING IMAGES PLEASE DO NOT REMOVE MY WATERMARK AND CONTACT INFORMATION. THANK YOU. I get it. Some of you might get excited and want to see this stuff in the game, especially the clothes, tack, and pets. However, the only way I want to see this in the game is if I get paid for it. If I see it in the game and I’m not paid for it, there will be hell to pay. You think I’m salty. I’d be angry. Personally, I’m not going to send this info to SSO. If you do, leave my contact information there! Don’t give them any excuses to steal.

Now, I’ll know you haven’t read this note if you leave me comments about how ‘salty’ I am about the game and if I hate it so much I should do something else. I am doing something else. It’s called Mystic Riders MMORPG Project. Mystic Riders however is a very baby phase game. You can check out our plans on the game dev blog. (Skills, Factions, Professions, Crafting, Mini-Games, 25+ horse breeds!) If you know anyone who would be interested and has money or contacts about game making, direct them to the blog.

[littlepinkneko]

Mercy

It was such a simple task that any other Eliksni could do. Loading and shipping out supplies and ether into Ketch’s and skiffs to be sent to other planets that the House of Dusks had a foot hold on. Anywhere where there were troops Mylas’s job was just to simply load up the supplies, the female Dreg thought of it a easy task, something she could never mess up.

Oh how wrong she was.

Below her on the Ketch’s docking bay was a broken Ether Tank. Bent and now leaking of the precious luminescent ether and pooling around the floor. Dregs and Vandals that were the hull had just stopped doing their tasks and just froze in place at the mess. The air was growing rapidly tense as members whispered to each other of the news on what had happen. Mylas’s hearts were racing and the ever growing fear of punishment whirled in her mind as she tried to find words for an excuse. It was purely an accident! The Dreg was sure of this as their were other witnesses to this grave accident.

The rapid approach of foot falls made Mylas’s hearts sink into her stomach as her Captain approached her and grasped on her left forearm and shoved the female harshly to the ground. Mylas couldn’t help but let out a pitiful screech and curl into a ball to shield herself as the Captain continued his assault of the lowly Eliksni, grabbing her again and throwing her off the balcony and in front of the broken Ether pod.

No one had stepped forward to stop this, he was a high rank Captain and the others had no control of his actions of punishment. Their Baron had gone off with a Baroness somewhere to discuss matters. This Captain had full charge of whatever happened in the Ketch, he was the law until the Baron returned.

Mylas’s world was swirling around her as the Captain grabbed the back of her head and slammed her head on the floor into the Ether, forcing for the female to look what she had done. Mylas could not fight back,she would not fight back. All she could do was take the beaten and pray to the Primes that her arms not to be docked.

“HOW CARELESS OF YOU TO DESTROY SUCH PRECIOUS SUPPLY! HAVE YOU THE FAINTEST OF IDEAS OF HOW MANY OF US HAD PERISHED COLLECTING THIS?!” the Captain roared with fury rubbing the Dreg’s face into the tainted ether. Mylas couldn’t even utter a word she wasn’t given the chance before the Captain yet again picked her up and thrown Mylas into some crates. Scrambling to get up on her feet she was pinned and was forced to look at the enraged Captain in the face. Whole body shaking she began to plead to him.

“I..I didn’t..It was an accident!..Please!!..I’m sor-” her cries were cut short when she saw the Captain unhilt one of his shock blades. The Arc energy dancing up along the metal and buzzing with life. Now her pleads and cries escalated even more, grasping blindly at the Captain’s arm to release his hold on her throat. The Dreg’s voice was nearly lost by how high she was begging to him.

“Your pleas are going to deaf ears Dreg! I am going to show you no mercy as I tear your arms from your body!” the Captain growled lowly enough for Mylas to hear. Lining up the blade inches away from the socket of her left arm and taking aim he raised the blade above his head and swung.

Only to be stopped short when the Captain was tackled to the ground by a smaller Eliksni. He scrambled to his feet and grabbed at his weapon, ready to fight his assailant that had stopped him carrying out punishment. Mylas was gasping for air as the Dreg slid down against the crates, holding and rubbing her neck as she frantically looked at the high ranking Captain in fear before looking up at her defender.

It was not an Eliksni.

It was a Light Bearer.

Standing before Mylas’s eyes was a human Warlock clad in House Dusk color. It was a female from what Mylas could tell by the Warlock’s shape and stature, short chopped brown hair, pale skin and a look of what the Dreg believed was disgust as she was facing the Captain with Lord of Wolves in her possession. What struck Mylas with curiosity was why a Light Bearer was even inside the Ketch and why no one was attacking the intruder, even though she bore the House colors no one, even her Captain made a move.

Mylas flinched when the Warlock’s gaze went from the Captain, to the broken ether pod and finally rest onto her. A single vibrant green and milky white eyes bore into the female Dreg’s very being. Mylas just remained still but kept her arms locked with the Warlock, too afraid to move or dare to even breath.

Mylas flinched again when the other held a hand out to her.

“On your feet Dreg, you need to stand for me to explain what has happen here.” she spoke in her tongue! This was another surprise but Mylas did not disobey and cautiously reached up and was heaved up to her feet. The Dreg had a few inches to her but even then she felt small compared to the air that the Warlock had on her.

The Warlock was holding herself as if she was one of them. No that wasn’t quite the word she was looking for.

A Baroness.

The Captain stood up and sheathed his blade attached to his belt. A scowl in his eyes before he opened his mouth to speak. But he was cut short when the Warlock shot a look back at her Captain for silence before turning her gaze back on to Mylas.

“Your name?” the Warlock asked in a reserved tone

“M...Mylas.” she replied in a hush tone.

“Tell me Mylas...what has happen to the ether pod?” the Warlock spoke again.

“I..I was preparing it to be shipped! But I had lost my footing and accidentally knocked the pod off from the balcony.”  Mylas spoke in a jittery tone catching the Captain’s low growl. The Warlock nodded and looked up at the balcony and inspected quietly before now turning her attention to the Captain before her. 

“Name.” the Warlock spoke with pure malice and matched the Captain’s rage with her own. Mylas had never seen the Captain flinch in her lifetime up until now.

“Kersis.” he growled in defiance of being interrogated by the Warlock, but he made no move to fight her.

“Do you know who I am Kersis?” the Warlock asked taking a few menacing steps forward at Kersis, he reacted by taking a few steps back and to Mylas’s astonishment, knelt before the Warlock.

He was submitting himself to her.

“Ka’niz...the Ruthless.” he spoke.

The room was now in an uproar with shock, confusion and retaliation. Mylas was in pure confusion as the Dreg stared at the Warlock, profound on this ‘legendary’ what was thought to be believed, an Eliksni.  Mylas had only heard tales of Ka’niz’s many victories, her capture and imprisonment within The Prison of Elders and brutal ways of killing enemies of the Eliksni. One of the tales of how she had claimed many lives of Lightbearers and the cruel tactics she had done to each and every Guardian that crossed her path.

There was talk that she had even devoured their flesh.

“Now tell me Kersis your point of view of what had happened and WHY you were going to dock her only pair of arms.” she snarled now standing the Captain’s space and grabbed the bottom of his helmet, giving him no chance to look away but stare back at her.

“She destroyed the pod.” Kersis spat in retaliation.

“She claims it is an accident.” Ka’niz retorted back and gave his helmet a firm shake.

“But the pod-”

“Can be easily fixed and replaced, you acted and treated Mylas so shamefully as if it was the ONLY ether pod left in the entire Sol system.” Ka’niz snarled at Kersis with such ferocity that Kersis tried to shrink away but was pulled back and now was nose to nose with the Warlock.

“Tell me Kersis..how would you feel if your Baron docked all of your limbs if you had destroyed a pod and you begged for mercy?” Ka’niz questioned the Captain.

Kersis did not utter a sound at the Warlock’s words and remained silent, his eyes locked on to hers as the Warlock released her hold and shoved him away to land on his back. Now her attention was now at the other crew members in the Ketch who had all stood by and watched the whole thing happen.

“THOSE WHO HAS SEEN MYLAS DESTROY THIS POD SPEAK UP!”

No one spoke.

“SPEAK IF YOU HAVE SEEN THIS AS AN ACCIDENT!”

One by one voices began to gather, murmuring and agreeing that it was an accident. It was not out of fear of the Baroness’s wrath, but to the truth to those who had seen it. Mylas;s chest felt like it was swelling as she looked around the room at her comrades, filled with gratitude and thanking the Primes that their was witnesses. The Dreg looked at the Warlock shaking as Ka’niz returned her gaze and nodded at the other in acknowledgement. The Warlock walked up beside Mylas and drapped her left arm across the back of her shoulders and began to lead her out of the Ketch. Crossing the threshold and coming across her approaching Baron the Dreg nearly stumbled and tried to stop but Ka’niz kept pushing her along, forcing her to walk pass the other Baron.

“Ka’niz! What are you doing?!” the Baron yelled at Ka’niz with bafflement of the Baroness’s action.

Ka’niz stopped and turned to face the Baron no expression on her face as she called back.

“I am taking Mylas with me Deliks, I see worth in her and have decided that she is best suited to be part of my fleet. Do you have any disagreements with this?” she asked raising a brow, silently daring the Baron to challenge her words.

“No! But you can’t just take-

“Glad we had this discussion Deliks, it was so nice to have chatted with you.” Ka’niz spoke without a care in the world and turned her back on the Baron, keeping Mylas close to her side. The Dreg has turned her head to look back at the Baron and was surprised to see the look of bewilderment in his eyes, he didn’t even stop the Baroness.

“B..Baroness-”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Ka’-”

“Not even that, that is my Eliksni name.”

“Then...What do your kind call you?” Mylas asked sheepishly.

“Well they call me a fuckin psychopath,bitch, Bug Fucker- Which I am not, get that out of your head.  There is a LONG list of names they call me but you may call me Nia in private. I wouldn’t want the whole fleet calling me by that name.” Nia laughed giving her a gentle pat on the back crossing the Nessus plains to board her Ketch that was docked on a cliff’s edge. Walking up the ramp behind her now Baroness the Dreg almost squealed in delight as three pups came running up to Nia and began conversation with eagerness. It was a rare sight to see pups in the first place since the low supply of ether,with low ether it was nearly impossible to even raise hatchlings with risk of losing them.

Out of the three pups the runt approached Mylas with gleaming eyes. The Dreg couldn’t help but kneel before the pup and held out her claws to him. Mylas was purring in happiness as the pup began to play with each digits

“Hi! I’m Gilisk! What is your name??” Gilisk squeaked in excitement of the new crew member. The other siblings had soon joined the runt and greeted Mylas with less enthusiasm but none the less the Dreg’s mood grew in good spirits.

“I’m Juhvaks.”

“I’m Cobvik!”

“It is nice to meet you all, you may call me Mylas.” she purred gently before looking up at Nia, waiting for an order from her Baroness.

“What is my first task?” Mylas spoke.

“Your task from her on out is to help me care for my boys.” Nia answered the Dreg’s question. Little Gilisk jumped into the Dreg’s arms and clung on to her, purring in delight of a now new friend, Juhvaks and Cobvik returned back to Nia and clung on to each of her shoulders. They were still small enough to be carried around, there was no point for them to run around with the possiblity of them to be stepped on. The Dreg gratefully accepted this brand new task of being a caretaker of these pups but Mylas now just stared at Nia in confusion of what she had said about these pups belong to her. But how in the Great Machines could she-

“I see your mind turning and no I did not give life to them.” 

“O...Oh, of course. My apologies Ka-..I mean Nia.”

[electricbluetempest]

An Experiment Gone Wrong - 3

The last bit feat. LOTS OF PAIN

Sally tried to back up, but got cornered as the Devil walked towards her with the gun pointed at her face.

“Any last words?”

Sally looked around, noticing that the desk lamp was floating towards the direction the Devil’s facing.

“Desk lamp!” Sally shouted.

The desk lamp landed on the Devil’s head, making him unconscious as Sally runs out of the Devil’s grip.

Sally ran away as the bee cop cuffed the Devil. She met him outside not long after, him dragging the unconscious Devil to the police station.

“We caught him...” She panted.

Sally let the bee cop do his work as she left for the church again. The bodies had been taken away in preparation to be buried, but she hoped their spirits would still be around. The sun was coming down, and she sat in a pew, exhausted from today.

“Werner? Alfred? You guys there?”

There was no sign of any paranormal activity. Sally sighed to call out their names again.

"Werner? Alfred? You still here, we found the culprit."

Nothing happened again. Sally stood up, knowing that their spirits are gone. The church lights opened as Sally turned her back to find a big casket being carried by a group of men. The lady ran up to find both Dr. Kahl and Werner inside the same casket. The men placed the casket on a stand on the church stage, Sally stayed there to look at the corpse.

“Oh...that’s right. The funeral is tomorrow morning.” Sally remembered. She had gotten wrapped up in the quest to bring them to justice that she’d almost forgotten about it.

It seemed like the ghosts weren’t going to appear tonight, so Sally made the decision to leave the church. But before she did, she positioned Kahl and Werner so that they were holding each other’s hands.

The ghosts appeared just as she left, completely missing their chance to see her. The two of them decided to inspect their bodies in the double casket. 

“Goodness, does my head wound look that big?” Kahl asked.

“Alfred, mine looks bigger.” Werner inspected.

“I look like I overslept.” Kahl giggled.

“So do I!”

The two men continue to laugh and talk until they noticed something inside. “Look at our hands, Wern.”

Kahl pointed to the bodies. Wern closely inspected to find his corpse’s hand on his husband’s hand, Kahl’s body did the same. 

“Do you get what this means?”

“Könnte sein, vat does it mean?”

“It means they want us to be together, Wern. Even though we were killed just before I finish my vow.”

Werner repeatedly blink and quivered his mouth, looking at the bodies again. Noticing both hands have their wedding bands on them. “Zat vas very sweet of zhem.”

The funeral had two extra guests hiding up above the rest of the crowd where nobody else could see. The ghosts of Kahl and Werner were curious to see what people had to say about them, and who would show up. 

The church was filled with Inkwell residents, some they knew well but others they didn’t know who had heard of the tragedy and wanted to pay respects. All of the windows on one side of the church were open for the robot to view from outside. The organist finished playing, and the first person to deliver a eulogy took the stand.

The ghosts sat of the front empty pew, listening to what Sally’s going to say.

 “Werner and Alfred were supposed to be a happy, loving, and joyful couple. However, that didn’t happen. Both of them were shot on the head by one of the Devil’s minions. I wanna give my respect to both of my friends. Werner, my childhood friend, he was someone I’d talk to whenever I feel upset. Alfred on the other hand, was just someone I met last year. Werner introduced him to me, I was happy to have another friend. For now, I’ll let the two rest and be together in a better place.”

Sally left the podium. “Is there someone else who wants to talk?” Bon Bon stood up.

Sally went back to her seat as the baroness went up to the podium. Little did Sally know that Werner and Kahl were sitting next to her, hearing what people were gonna say about them.

“Zat vas very sweet, Sally” Werner patted her shoulder, although she can’t hear or feel him.

Bon Bon took her place at the pedestal.

“I didn’t know Werner very well, aside from that he made Dr. Kahl a very happy man. But I did know Dr. Kahl. I knew him since I was little, and was always welcomed into his workshop and helped his son feel welcome in this world. Growing up in a family that was mostly composed of people groveling at my feet because of my status as Baroness, going to his run-down factory to visit him and the robot felt more...down to earth. It was like having a secret second family who loved me because I was a curious little kid who wanted to learn. And Alfred Kahl was always willing to teach.”

Kahl clutched his hands over his chest.

“That’s so sweet of her...”

“The world lost not just a brilliant mind, but a brilliant person. And I hope that wherever he is, he knows we love and miss him.”

Each eulogy the residents gave made both Werner and Kahl emotional, both knowing how people think of them. 

Werner's stomach started to rumble. "Alfred, I'm hungry."

"There's food at the back. Let me lead you there."

The two men sneaked, even though no one can see them, got the table to find a variety of food on the table.

The two started to gobble up the food from the table. Wally Jr. who was sitting near the table, can see the food floating in mid air. 

"Dad..." He shook his father's wing. "The food is floating!"

“Son, don’t make a scene.” Wally scolded before noticing the same thing Junior did. “...What on earth?”

The other guests began to notice one by one as well. Soon everyone was staring in the direction of the ghosts, unsure how to react or process this. 

“...Alfred? I zhink we’ve been caught.”

“Well then. Should we appear?”

"Maybe not."

The ghosts slowly brought down the food back on the plates. As they were placing going back to their seat, they started to turn bluish and translucent. 

"Wern, why are you appearing?"

"I don't know, vhy are you appearing?"

The two men continued, not knowing that the guest were watching them.

The two ghosts were now completely visible to all the guests, staring at them in wide-eyed silent shock. Nobody knew what to say or how to react, until Werner decided to break the silence.

“Danke shoen, everyone. Ve vatched ze whole funeral. You all had very kind words to say, and ve appreciate it.”

Sally stepped forwards tentatively, a soft smile on her face. “They caught the guy who did it. The Devil sent a hitman to...”

A lump caught in her throat and her bottom lip began to quiver. Werner consoled her, hugging her even though she couldn’t feel it.

"Oh Werner, I missed you! I was looking for your spirits yesterday, but you guys didn't show up."

"Ve usually show up after 6 or somezhing, but I'm glad to see you again."

Sally wiped her tears as she lets go of Werner. "I'm actually surprised that you guys actually showed up on your own funeral. As a ghost, of course."

"We have one more eulogy before we finish." The two ghosts went up to the podium, with Kahl going first.

Kahl’s ghost cleared his throat.“Werner Werman was an incredible man, and though his life was rough for several years, he never let that bring down his spirits. Most of you may know him as a war veteran or a skilled mechanical engineer, but I knew him first as a friend, then something more.”

Werner was giving Kahl a tear-filled smile as he spoke.

“He was a compassionate man who refused to be defined by his hard life, or be jaded by it. My fiancé may be gone, but I know he’s in a better place. Because he never really left.” Kahl stepped down to let Werner take the podium next.

Werner stepped over to the podium, taking a view breaths of anticipation before starting his speech. “Dr. Alfred Kahl vas a brilliant man. His life vas somezhing extraordinary. He built a robot vith a soul, he made people happy, vhen ve bumped into each other, he made me happy zat I found someone to be vith. Ve vere friends at first, but as ze months passed, ve became more zhan just friends.”

Kahl smiled, eyes starting to water.

“He vas someone zat vill alvays talk to you. I know my fiancé is gone, but like vat Alfred said, he never left because I’m vith him.”

Werner stepped down from the podium to hug his ghost husband. The guests started praising and clapping.

“But are we legally husbands? I haven’t even finished my vow. Where’s the pastor? He hasn’t announced us man and husband yet.”

The pastor was among the guests at the funeral, standing up to give an officiation for the ghosts. He could see that the wedding bands Sally had put on them earlier were still on their ghostly fingers. He decided to skip most of the speech and go directly to the part the men had been waiting to hear.

“Do you, Alfred, take Werner to be your lawfully wedded husband, in sickness and in health, ‘til death ‘til you part?”

“We aren’t going to part, even in death. But yes. I do.”

“And do you, Werner Werman, take Alfred to have and to hold, as long as you both after-live?”

“I do.”

“Then I now pronounce you man and husband. You may now kiss the groom.”

Kahl leaned in to his husband again. Everyone started to celebrate just like it’s a wedding. The robot blew a small popper from outside. The two men pulled over, hugging afterwards.

“Alfred, I love you. Even if death tried to take us apart.”

For some reason, Kahl and Werner’s corpses slowly started to smile. Could this be some spiritual connection to their late-marriage?

“Alfred, look!” Werner pointed at the casket.

“...How is that possible?” Kahl asked.

“I don’t know, but I think it’s a sign.”

“You know, you may be right. We’ve been officially married and we’ve been avenged so maybe this means...?”

The two men held hands as they started to glow a little brighter. “Ve can finally be at peace.”

They started to glow brighter until they were both bright white haloed silhouettes. The guests couldn’t tell if they kissed or not, their faces moved closer to each other as they were glowing their brightest. But as soon as their faces touched, there was a bright flash that blinded the whole church for a moment then vanished.

Sally felt a little bit of bittersweet relief. The men were finally free of this world and gone to a better place beyond the mortal realm, but that meant they were gone forever.

“...We’ll miss you.”

[aticklishtem]

Something to Laugh About

((welp so~ I’m pretty new to writing this kinda thing but this Concept wouldn’t leave me alone, so I decided to give it a shot and yeah, maybe someone else will also enjoy this self indulgent trash pile, idk \o/ any kind of feedback is always welcome!!))

For a dame who made, employed, lived in and was even made out of so much candy, that Baroness Von Bon Bon could be an awful sourpuss.

In fact, Beppi wasn’t sure he’d ever seen her truly smile, and it sure wasn’t for lack of trying. Nothing filled his heart with more joy than a genuine, honest-to-goodness smile - the kids whose faces lit up with excitement when he handed them another of his balloon animal menagerie, the crowds who came by his tent to watch him willingly make a fool of himself, his fellow carnival workers and isle-dwellers, he treasured every single smirk, chuckle, giggle and reluctant grimace. Way back before he’d so much as dabbed the first lick of paint on his nose, Beppi had made it his mission to bring a smile to the faces of all of Inkwell, and he was proud to say that so far he had an almost perfect track record. Almost.

The Baroness’ place was over the other side of town, but the isle was small and even she had to venture outside to peddle her wares, so Beppi and Bon Bon had crossed paths plenty. Often enough that it seemed like he’d tried everything - his best jokes, his worst jokes, the pie gag, the seltzer, the banana peel, even his killer impressions of Djimmi and Wally and Grim and anyone else he could think of - to see her lips so much as twitch, but she still just looked at him like he was a piece of taffy stuck to her shoe.

Beppi wasn’t quite as much of a fool as he acted - he knew she fancied herself above him, above all of their colourful corner of carnival. She turned her nose up at their hot dogs and candy corn, declaring that her confectioneries were made with only the finest ingredients Inkwell had to offer, and she couldn’t imagine why anyone would opt to shovel all that greasy garbage down their throat instead. But he hadn’t gotten to where he was by giving up easy - it was that dogged determination that had coaxed chuckles out of some of Inkwell’s grumpiest inhabitants, after all. And it would’ve been too tragic just to let them all carry on their way, stomping through town so sour-faced: he couldn’t imagine anything worse than a life of stony silence. Laughter was Beppi’s lifeblood, long before it had been his living; it filled him up, made him feel big and shiny and swell like a balloon (metaphorically and sometimes literally) until he could just about burst, in the best way. He wanted - no, he needed to spread the joy all over town, all over Inkwell, every way he knew how, and remain hopeful that it’d prove just as infectious as it was irresistible, even for the sourest of pusses.

He was optimistic for another day of sunshine and smiles, during a brief break in the afternoon’s frivolities to relax under the shade of one of the colourful parasols in the square. Beppi had been in the middle of telling Djimmi all about yesterday’s unfortunate yet hilarious incident involving an overzealous balloon giraffe and a fruit hat when Bon Bon shimmied into view.

Without missing a beat, he broke off into a comical double take, and then figured he might just as well fall out of his chair in shock that the esteemed Baroness had seen fit to grace them with her presence. Djimmi just shook his head fondly, long used to his friend’s antics; Bon Bon opted to ignore Beppi entirely as she and Djimmi exchanged polite greetings, simply manoeuvre around him like a colourful puddle as she took the chair on the other side.

Typically tough crowd, but Beppi was prepared for that - and he had a good feeling about today, the fact that Bon Bon had willingly descended from her fancy castle to mingle with the common folk suggesting she might be in a good mood, or at least not quite as much of a sourball as usual. If he could pull just the right rib-tickler out of his hat, maybe she’d even -

Hot dawg - Beppi had to glance up to check if someone hadn’t lobbed a lightbulb right over his head as he scrambled back upright, because had he just been hit with a doozy of an idea.

“Hey, hey, Bonnie.” Beppi leaned in closer to her, his usual ear-to-ear grin turning just a tad more mischievous than usual as he nudged at her elbow. “Gotta question for ya.”

Bon Bon turned to him with a long-suffering sigh, her eyebrows knitting together as though it pained her even to look at him. “What do you want? And don’t call me that.”

“My sincerest of apologies, Baroness.” Beppi just managed to resist putting on his snootiest voice in response as he bowed and tipped his hat - he was happy to humour her this time, since her hoity-toity act would only make his eventual victory all the sweeter. “Aaaanyway. How many tickles does it take to make an octopus laugh?”

“I neither know, not care to -“

“Ten-tickles!” he popped the punchline gleefully, sliding an arm around her waist and squeezing before she could get away. “One!” He felt her jump a little at the unexpected contact, but no giggles followed; undeterred, he kept it up, searching for a sweet spot with a few pokes to her ribs. “Two!” Still nothing: Bon Bon was just staring at him like he was doing something utterly ridiculous - which, in all (fun)fairness, was kinda what he was always doing. But this was getting weird, and not the fun kind - was this woman made of rock candy? “Three..?” Faltering for just a moment, he scribbled his fingers across her midsection and finally she reacted - but not how Beppi had hoped, as she seized his wrist and pushed him roughly away.

“Get off! What in the world do you think you’re…” Bon Bon’s big doe eyes widened even further, her eyebrows shooting up as realisation dawned. “Oh, I see - you were trying to tickle me, weren’t you?” Before Beppi could protest his innocence, she scoffed, tossing her chocolate curls. “Tough luck, Chuckles - you won’t get me to crack with such a cheap trick. Hmm, but I wonder…” Something almost in the vicinity of a smile slowly spread across her face, and it was more than a little unsettling, sharp as the glimmer of an idea in her eye as she glanced Beppi up and down, drumming her dainty fingers on the tabletop, and - whoops, he might’ve bitten off a tad more than he could chew after all.  “Perhaps someone else around here just might?”

“Ah - heh…” A nervous chuckle escaped as Beppi edged slowly away from her, until his back bumped against Djimmi’s broad chest and he pounced on the potential distraction. “Oooh - you talking about Djimbo here? He’s plenty ticklish - just watch this…”

Before he could attack, though, two strong arms shot out and grasped his noodly ones. Beppi let out an outraged squawk of protest as Djimmi effortlessly held him captive. “Hey - what gives…?”

“I’m sorry, my friend,” Djimmi replied with a shrug and such a grand-piano grin Beppi was surprised his pants didn’t burst into flame, “but, as karma dictates, what goes around…”

“Well said.” Bon Bon nodded, her gaze positively predatory now as it lingered on Beppi’s now-compromising position; a bundle of nervous butterflies fluttered in his belly as she took a few steps closer. “I’m glad to hear someone around here has some respect - putting your greasy paws all over royalty like that? Why, I could have you executed. But…” She paused, actually licking her candy-heart lips as they twisted into a sadistic smirk, and with the slightest wiggle of her fingers Beppi knew he was done for. “I can think of something more fun.”

“N-nohohow, Bonnie, no need to be too hasteeheeheehee…!” Giggles spilled out the moment she spidered her fingers up his sides, barely touching him yet somehow unbearable all at once.

“Isn’t it funny,” Bon Bon purred, her sugary teasing sing-song only intensifying the torture, “how one who so desperately chases the laughter of others can be so easily reduced to such a giggly mess himself?” As if to prove her point, she dug right into his vulnerable underarms, and Beppi’s laughter pitched; with Djimmi holding him just a couple inches off the ground, he could do nothing but cackle helplessly. “It’s kind of cute, though. I might even prefer you like this, laughing too much to prattle on with your pitiful excuse for comedy.”

Beppi might’ve felt himself blushing even redder under his makeup at that last remark, if he could focus on anything other than her wicked fingers as they danced down across his ribs. “We may even have a new attraction!” she continued cheerfully, pausing to squeeze at his hips a few times; he could feel the tips of her nails through her silky gloves and his thin suit, digging in just enough to drive Beppi loopy as the teasing circles she was now tracing around his stomach. “Forget the dunk tank - how many coins for a go on this silly, terribly ticklish clown?”

“Bohohohon, nohoho - nohohot there!”

“Hmm? Not here? But that’s right where the target is!” Bon Bon just sped up, drawing faster and smaller circles until without any warning, she dug one of her devious digits right into his bellybutton; Beppi howled, writhing and bucking uselessly in Djimmi’s iron grip in a vain attempt to escape. “Oooh, look at that, I believe I just hit the bullseye! Where’s my prize?”

She wiggled away until Beppi was honking and wheezing like old Charlie, unable to even beg her for mercy or at least to think of his makeup, which was bound to be in ruins from the tears starting to roll down his cheeks. So this was how it ended - tickled to death by a candy lady. Well, he did always say to always leave ‘em laughing…

“Alright, now, Baroness, I think he’s learned his lesson,” Djimmi’s deep voice intoned, as he dropped Beppi back on his feet, Bon Bon finally ceased her attack - sure, she’d listen to him - and he gasped in relief, gulping in sweet lungfuls of air as he flopped back into Djimmi’s arms in a giggly heap, before remembering that he was a dirty traitor. “We don’t want the poor fella to literally laugh his head off.” He grinned, apparently unconcerned by Beppi’s best wounded glare. “It’s been known to happen.”

“That,” Beppi eventually managed to say, pointing an accusing finger at the both of them, “was cruel. And unusual.”

Bon Bon tittered, smoothing down her dress. “Oh dear, funny boy, was I too much for you? Can’t even take what you attempt to dish out? Well, I’d best be taking a powder anyway - time is candy, fellas.” She caught Beppi’s eye as she rose to her feet and shot him a sly wink, and his heart might’ve done a tiny somersault when she fluttered her fingers at them. “Let’s do this again sometime, shall we?”

She turned to saunter back off to her candy land, leaving Beppi and Djimmi to sit/float under the parasol in silence. Well, he’d better get used to it, because Beppi was definitely never speaking to him again. Not a word, not for the rest of their days, no matter how much he begged or -

“Djimbo.” Whoopsie - he’d just have to ignore him forever later, as he was already leaning over to nudge him repeatedly in the side. “D’ja-hear that? Bonnie thinks I’m cute.”

Djimmi chuckled indulgently, taking a puff of his pipe. “Perhaps you should be more careful how you address the Baroness,” he pointed out, eyes twinkling with gentle amusement, “lest you find yourself in another such ticklish predicament.”

Beppi shuddered dramatically, but his goofy grin only grew wider - because, well, Bon Bon had been smiling when she’d been tickling him to pieces. More than he’d ever seen her before, so maybe his plan hadn’t backfired quite as spectacularly as it might seem.

Maybe he wouldn’t mind letting her get the last laugh every once in a while, after all.

[original-character-archives]

Name: Nalaagura Ep'ha the Warden (I usually nickname her Nala or just the Warden) Age & Date of birth: 908 years, born on the summer solstice (idk what calendar we use yet in her world), so she’s a Leo Species: Demon Gender: Female Orientation: No fricken idea. She gets with a guy demon later but that’s it, so I’m not sure Fandom/Original: Mostly original, but with some influence from Magic: The Gathering. The RP she comes from, Battle of the Grounded Dungeon, also includes some How to Train Your Dragon, Puella Magi Madoka Magica, MtG, FMA and heavy doses of Norse/Viking mythology.

Warning: Murder, demonic posession, mention of fantasy racism, brief mention of suicide attempt, mild gore and body ick

Biography: (Small preface: this roleplay was started as a total joke in the HTTYD fandom because we were sad about a character death and spiraled into an actual story written by thirty different people so some of the names and stuff sound stupid and the plot will be random and weird so like just roll with it I guess?? lmao. also this is like STUPIDLY long sorry. You can totally scroll past if you don’t wanna hear the story. Augh sorry I’m so super nervous about this lol please bear with me ;u;) The Warden was born to a massively powerful demon, H'zola R'nalath the Empress. The Warden has seven other siblings: the Matriarch, the Praetor, the Archon, the Centurion, the Baroness, the Guardian, and the Shaper. She is the youngest of the eight and the most important, according to her mother. Her parents are the Empress and the Shepherd, both extraordinarily powerful beings who used to be a single soul created by the goddess Hel. They split into the soul’s intelligence and brute force, the mother and father being the result, respectively, and then the Empress “gave birth” by shaving off fragments of her soul and cultivating them into new demons. Nala was brought to being in the demon city of Bloedrest, in the far north, but she despised her life there and wished to flee. One day she did just that, hopping from vessel to vessel in an attempt to escape her former life.  She was suddenly snagged one day by a strange, immature force, and when she manifested in front of it, she was infuriated to see it was a young mage by the name of Darien Whiteland. Furious, she demanded he let her go, but he refused, telling her he needed to impregnate a golem with a kind of guardian spirit. For some reason unknown to her, she was unable to break the holds of the summons and was imprisoned inside of his golem. What she didn’t know was that this mage had made a deal with her mother to allow him to capture her daughter and keep her to guard one of his many dungeons. He was part of a triumvirate that ruled over High Central, the self-appointed capital of the land of Aidorin. The people lived in seclusion in High Central, and harbored strong sentiments against part-human part-animals, known as half-breeds (which appear as anywhere from anthropomorphic animals to humans with a few animal features like ears and tails), and those that used magic outside of their jurisdiction, and began imprisoning and executing anyone they deemed a threat to their rule or their race. The Warden’s imprisonment in the dungeon was not a pleasant one. She seethed against her captors and longed for revenge but she was trapped and had no idea of where the young mage might be. She instead turned her attention to the prisoners and began toying with them. One in particular caught her attention: a passionate half-breed cat named Treepelt. The Warden was attracted by her strong feelings of protection towards her friends and her romantic feelings towards the scout, Vox. Craving these impassioned urges, the Warden left her golem and slowly began possessing Treepelt instead. She started having violent mood swings and acting very strangely around the rebels. Eventually they discovered the truth during the rebels’ escape from the dungeon with the help of a massive seadragon, and led by the ruler of the Wilderwest, King Gareth Haddock. She outright declared war on the escapees. They fled to a safe distance where one of the larger half-breeds, an ice dragon, created a home for the rebels to live in. The Warden attacked them over and over with the dragons she had under control and managed to possess several other members of the rebellion before finally surrendering in a battle. The king came to interrogate her, trying to figure out why the Warden was doing this, and when Tree’s lover Vox came to try and talk Tree out of the possession, the Warden made her stab him through the heart, killing him. His soul was caught in Purgatory, the limbo between Valhalla and Hel. Tree later escaped her confinement with help from a strange hooded figure that could teleport through water. He led them out of the fortress and into the Wilderwest, guiding her away from danger and to a lake. The stranger told Treepelt she was going to be able to see Vox again through the water. When he appeared, the Warden was alarmed by Treepelt’s strong feelings, but rather than try and destroy them as she did before, she attempted to assuage them and tried reaching for him. Vox, however, leaped through the water before the Warden could force Tree to touch the surface and he was immediately sent to Hel. Treepelt was absolutely broken and the Warden scrambled to get her vessel back on her feet before she fell apart. She was much slower in her approach of the rebels, but two of the rebels attempted to stop Treepelt as soon as they saw her. The Warden attempted to attack them as well but Kiri the Viking ninja (long story) took Treepelt down and stabbed her in the hip, giving her momentary clarity as the Warden was driven away by the pain.The Warden returned to the surface of Tree’s consciousness later as she talked to King Haddock about rescuing Vox, who was the King’s loyal battle strategist. She lied to the King about what the soul transfer required, simply saying that they needed his presence at the lake in order to get Vox’s soul back, when in reality she was planning to trade the King’s soul for Vox’s. Haddock agreed and the Warden berated Treepelt on her lack of action, telling her that she was taking the reins now.  Haddock returned later to begin the journey to the lake. She took control of Tree the entire time they traveled to the lake. The stranger, Pitch Black, now exposed as Haddock’s old friend and his adopted daughter Akkey’s long-lost father (another long story), expressed surprise at the tag-alongs, and the Warden explained that they’d been insistent on coming and that it shouldn’t affect the soul exchange. The members of the rebellion reacted with shock and outrage, and the Warden responded likewise, threatening to hurt anyone who interfered with the exchange. The king’s bodyguard, Stonegit, registered the threat and threw his ax at Tree, who was saved by the king’s adopted daughter Akkey, a rabbit half-breed, but pushed into the water where both Treepelt and the Warden were sent to Purgatory. The Warden convinced Tree to travel to Hel in an attempt to rescue Vox, but they were stopped just in time by Pitch, who said he would be able to get one of their souls back. The Warden immediately told Tree to go, admitting that she finally understood the pain she’d caused and wanted to make amends for it. But right after she left, she felt a strange pain and vanished from Purgatory. After Treepelt emerged from the lake unpossessed, the rebels assumed all was well and quite forgot about her malignant presence. They let the Warden fade into a bad memory. Unfortunately, she was far from gone. After the ordeal at the lake, Stonegit surfaced, blind and battered, and immediately carved a reaper’s ward into his chest while he was still half-conscious. Throughout the next few days, Stonegit was subtly influenced by an unknown force, able to navigate his way around things and dodge falling objects as though he could see. He also was unable to commit suicide one night after Haddock’s sudden expression of his feelings towards Stonegit, and he assumed it was because of a lack of resolve. Later, he discovered that it was the Warden who had done all of this, as she had been snagged as he passed through Purgatory on his way to Hel. He threatened to kill himself to get rid of her, but she convinced him to let them both stay so long as she stayed alive and whole and he gained sight and access to her power in order to protect the king. Stonegit carved a sigil into his hand marking the contract and the deal was set. The Warden then informed him that the king was currently being attacked by an enraged Pitch Black and he took off, managing to hold off the attack just in time.  Stonegit began attending to the king’s wounds and Haddock was alarmed at the young man’s dexterity, demanding to know why he was acting as though he had his sight back. He admitted to being possessed by the Warden and Haddock flew into a rage, under the impression that she was currently speaking to him. Stonegit went into a panic attack and drew on the Warden’s strength to throw the king to the ground and protect him. Eventually both the king and the bodyguard calmed enough to talk through their feelings. Stonegit let the Warden take control of him and speak to Haddock, and the two traded acidic words, ending in the Warden blaming the king for Stonegit’s descent to Hel and Haddock threatening her with his sword. Stonegit took control again and scolded her, and she retorted unapologetically that it was a bad idea for them to have talked in the first place. Stonegit ignored her and said that if she would like to speak to anyone through him, he would have to approve the conversation first. After their conversation, the Warden approached Stonegit again grudgingly while he was training, demanding to know why he had stuffed her away and what his plans with the king were. Stonegit responded that he didn’t know, only that he trusted Haddock to make the right decision. The Warden suddenly picked up on a stream of thoughts running below Stonegit’s consciousness and realized that he had been craving an ordinary conversation for years. She was faintly amused but also strongly curious about his emotions, and when he broke down and confessed his love towards Haddock and his feelings of hopelessness, she comforted him instead of mocking him. Thus began a tentative friendship between demon and vessel. Stonegit asked hopefully if she would be able to restore his sight and his damaged brain. The Warden regretfully told him that she was unable to perform such a task and he broke a wineglass in a flash of damage-induced rage. Stonegit apologized and was amused by her overreaction to the human pain. She helped him take care of the cut and he thanked her, going off to find the king. Later, Stonegit left to interrogate Skye, whom the Warden had confronted earlier and whom Stonegit suspected may have been harboring another demon. He consulted the demon, who expressed uncertainty over whether she could rid Skye of his curse or not. He then asked the Warden to inspect Akkey. Upon exploring her mind, the Warden drew back in pain and told the bodyguard that it was not Akkey who lay within the half-rabbit’s mind. She resurfaced later when he suggested that the magic surrounding Akkey was similar to that surrounding the library as well. After the Warden confirmed this fact, they both came to the conclusion that Hemlock was somehow in control of Akkey. The Warden also offered to inspect Tezzeret as well, for any resident demons within him. Eventually, Hemlock was found out when both Akkey and Vox suffered immense pain from the events at the lake. With everyone congregated in the sick room, Stonegit finally revealed to the rebels that he had been possessed, and unveiled the truth about Hemlock–that she was not actually a human at all, but an empty shell for a fallen valkyrie, Dust, to wear like a skin while she attempted to retrieve her lover from where she had fallen as well. Stonegit and Dust agreed to duel and the Warden helped Stonegit prepare a stone dagger with a rune that would cause it to explode on impact when buried in the valkyrie’s flesh. The duel began and both the Warden and Stonegit fought Dust together until Haddock suddenly intervened, causing Stonegit to turn and press the brand that marked the deal of possession against Haddock’s hand, and it began to transfer. The Warden was ejected from both of their minds during the transfer and she was unable to help Stonegit as Dust dragged him away from the king and took over his mind as well, turning him on the monarch and using his inherent fire magic to advance on Haddock and kill him with a fireball to the chest. The Warden solidified at this moment and was able to attack Dust in a rage, pulling the valkyrie out of Akkey’s body and fight her in mid-air. Dust was finally killed when Stonegit snuck into the fight and buried the dagger in her head. This created a massive explosion that apparently obliterated the Warden into nothingness, along with Haddock’s body.  The Warden had been assumed dead and destroyed after the events of the duel, and the camp preferred it to stay that way. They heard nothing from the Warden and thought she was gone for good. They were wrong. Again. Both the Warden and Haddock had been suspended in limbo after the king’s death and she had been attempting to heal his gaping wound with little success, for if he did not gain his health back, neither of them would be able to return. She was clumsy in her attempts to heal him and gained help from her cousin Shaxurohm. Haddock awoke in limbo and was shocked to see the two demons standing above him, not recognizing the Warden on-sight. His angry words spiked the Warden’s temper and she spoke roughly to him, announcing that he was now her vessel due to the contract Stonegit had transferred to them. Haddock resisted, but the Warden took him back into the mortal world and a vicious fight broke out to gain dominance over Haddock’s mind. The Warden crushed him with her words and her consciousness and succeeded in possessing him completely. She then walked him back to the camp and made her entrance clothed in his battered body. Everyone could hardly believe their eyes when the king walked back into camp, clearly alive and whole after his very public and brutal death. He ordered for someone to search for Stonegit. The all gathered near and that was the moment the Warden revealed that she was still alive, speaking the ominous words, “Long live the king.” Soon after, the queen approached the center of camp, attracted by the commotion, and upon seeing her husband alive, went to confront him, leaving her children at the edge of the crowd. Nalaagura brutally taunted her with words and the memories of Haddock’s borderline infidelity, but Mera brushed it off as false creations and tried to speak directly to Haddock. Infuriated, the Warden throttled Mera, and Egil became enraged, rushing forward to protect his mother. He was stopped by Greg, one of the soldiers, and the Warden backed off from harming anyone else, momentarily becoming uncertain and confused. She left them in a huff and headed back for the main fortress to decide what to do next. Stonegit soon decided to show himself though, and despite Kiri’s attempts to stop him, he went to investigate the rumors of Haddock’s return. He soon found Haddock, but having been haunted by specters of the king before, and distraught and half-insane from the loss of his soul due to his escape from Hel, he began to fight the Warden within Haddock, and the fight took them to the roof of the fortress. The Warden attempted to use Haddock’s voice and demeanor to break Stonegit out of his craze, and it seemed to work momentarily, but he suddenly fell unconscious, seemingly for no reason. As the camp gathered around, an enormous, dark figure appeared, announcing herself as the goddess Hel, and told the Warden to relinquish Haddock and let him speak with her. The Warden initially resisted, but Hel put her in her place and Nala gave up her possession momentarily. The king was too broken and submissive to speak, however, and a displeased Hel told the Warden in secret that she would return, that the Warden was to take care of Stonegit, and if Haddock was not in an improved mental state when she did, there would be consequences. A frustrated, angry Warden stalked the camp for a few days, ruminating on what to do. Soon, her brother the Archon arrived at camp with Tezzeret under his control, threatening to kill him unless Nala gave him a demonstration of her previously-denied affection towards the rebels. Nala continued to refuse and the Archon created an illusion of Tezz having his throat crushed, shocking and riling the Warden into attacking her brother with her astral form. Satisfied, Kiaama left the camp and revealed that Tezz was alive. Furious, the Warden retreated back into her stalking and allowing Stonegit to waste away. Blunt and Mera attempted to approach Nala about Stonegit in vain, although Nala allowed Haddock a short twenty minutes with his wife for the first time in over a year. Greg grew curious about her and approached the demon peacefully while she was wandering one day, making conversation with her. She resisted at first but then was drawn to his sincerity and admitted a bit about herself and her past and family. Greg took a few of his friends to meet her and while her greeting was lukewarm, they discovered Central had taken them all prisoner at the beginning, and she entrusted them with her name. A while after, the Empress and the Shaper arrived and brought the Warden her new demon-made porcelain body in an attempt at pacification, and she thanked them cautiously, awed by the gift. Igl stayed behind to make sure the body was in working order while the Empress left, and the sisters sparred a bit later to test the body. Nala admitted to the Shaper that she had changed and she did wish to return home. Later, Blunt took it upon himself to “kill” Stonegit in order to motivate her into action. He locked her out of the room and smashed a melon, pretending it was Stonegit’s head, and throwing Nala into a grieved rage witnessed by Clover. When she discovered he was still alive, she quickly gave him water, and Hel paused time to give her a dry congratulations and tell her to continue taking care of him and the king until the king was ready to face her tests. The Warden did so somewhat grudgingly but thoroughly. When it came time for the tests from Hel, both Haddock and Stonegit passed, and Stonegit was returned to normal. The Warden pounced on him lovingly but cringed when he thanked her for keeping Haddock intact while he was “away.” Stonegit later learned that the Warden’s possession of the king had not been gentle and forced the truth of her breaking him out of the Warden. He was upset and quietly refused to talk to her, which shook Nala and she quietly resolved that she would leave the next day. Stonegit brought her to her new synthetic body and Nala gave him her full name as a parting gift and left the camp. Upon leaving the camp, the Warden found another camp, full of soldiers aligned with Odin, not too far away from the rebels, and she approached with angry curiosity, demanding to see their leader. Their leader, Orskaf, entertained her with some amusement, although sternly telling her if she was aligned with Hel, he would tell her nothing. Confused, Nalaagura demanded answers, and Orskaf eventually told her how he’d gone to the king and tried to get him to sign the rebellion over to Valhalla by torturing Stonegit. Nala tried to attack him in an outrage but was injured and thrown out of camp. She went to sulk in the nearby forest, shaken by her new knowledge of the rebels’ alliance with Hel and of Stonegit’s plight. Hel appeared just then and healed her wounds easily, asking for a heart-to-heart, and the Warden reluctantly listened to the goddess’ petition to bring other souls to Hel’s side for Ragnarok as well. Nala hesitated, telling Hel she would think about it before asking Stonegit’s condition, and when Hel told her he was doing okay, she relented and accepted her offer, thus binding herself to Hel’s cause. The Warden then traveled the land for a few weeks, convincing nobility and chieftains alike to commit themselves to Hel, using force when needed. After a while, she ran into Akkey, who was also collecting souls for Hel. Nala entertained her for a moment, but then caught wind of the noise that a group of rebels captured by Loki inside of an incredibly deep pit in the ground, and she quickly possessed Akkey and forced her to create a portal to the pit to help them, leaving her demon body behind. In doing so, she damaged Akkey’s abilities so they were trapped for a few hours inside the pit. Akkey was extraordinarily upset with the new arrangement until Greg volunteered to house Nala inside himself to take the burden off Akkey. The demon enjoyed the transfer and the two talked for a bit, and then Nala brought up the subject of her name and the possibility of erasing it, and when Greg grew tearful she retracted her offer and receded into his mind. When it came time to leave, Akkey quietly informed Greg that she would be sending him to the north. Before Nala could take control of the situation, Greg suppressed her quickly and went through the portal. Once Nala had gotten over her initial anger, the two of them began to travel back south. They passed through a village where they encountered Central guards attempting to expel the native half-breeds, and Nala used Greg’s new fire magic to kill the guards and save the half-breeds. They continued to travel further, eventually reaching the place where the fortress used to be, the aftermath of a witch that had destroyed the home of the rebels. Greg mourned at the apparent death of the rebellion before Nala found traces of their minds, directing him back to the dungeon where they had taken residence. Greg ran there and reunited with his family, and the Warden watched contentedly, but realized she would have to leave if she wanted to avoid trouble. Upon finding her body where Akkey had left it in one of the lower cells, she awakened Greg to tell him she was leaving. The two shared a tearful goodbye and the Warden cut off the possession, regaining her body and tracking down Akkey, waiting for her to open the door.  Akkey felt impressed to check on the body again and encountered the Warden trying to get out. She opened the door for the demon and the two talked for a bit, the Warden admitting her feelings and changed ways to a curious Akkey. She agreed to send the Warden outside the camp with a portal, but as she opened one, an earthquake caused her target to slip and they both fell into the water, emerging far beneath the dungeon and accidentally interrupting a blood oath between the goddess Frigga and the great wolf Fenrir, who had been chained under the Grounded Dungeon for millennia. Frigga attempted to forcefully remove their memories of the encounter, but they fought back, knowing that they had to warn the rebellion of the sudden threat and could not do so with no memories. Frigga succeeded with Akkey, but the Warden managed to escape the goddess long enough to escape back to the surface. By then, Ragnarok had started, and once Akkey had been roused, the two entered the battlefield. Nala immediately tracked down Stonegit’s mind, ensuring that he was safe, and began fighting furiously against the Valhallan army and Frigga’s puppets, protecting those who were wounded and taking down dragons wreaking havoc from above. She came across Vox, who was struggling under Frigga’s army of mannequins, and convinced him to let her possess him, and the two smoothly joined together, trying to fight their way out of the battle in order to tend to his grave wound. However, Nala caught wind of Treepelt’s cry of pain from the dungeon, and she and Vox raced to help her, escaping through the shaking dungeon to safety. One of the seven lesser goddesses known as Eirs aligned with Frigga, Lust, followed them into the dungeon and attacked them. The Warden possessed Treepelt at her urging, splitting her possession between the couple and fighting the Eir all at once. While fleeing, Tree fell over the edge and Vox tried to help, all with the mannequins drawing near. The Warden managed to kill the rest of the puppets and the Eir and helped Vox and Tree back to safety. She fought the rest of the battle doing a head count of the rebellion, frantically keeping track of everyone, but she couldn’t find Stonegit–until it was too late, or so it seemed. Nala approached Stonegit’s unconscious body, he having been knocked out by a tremor from the fighting gods, and saw Haddock with Orskaf’s corpse in the river, assuming he had died in helping Haddock. In a blinding rage, she drew her sword and struck Haddock in the back, unintentionally breaking his spine and paralyzing him. She felt tremendous guilt and sorrow for what she’d done, disappearing for the rest of the battle and only returning after a few days. During the part of the battle where she was absent, the dragon god Midgardsormr controlled the dragons and caused them to leave the rebels, leaving them without their mounts and their best friends. When Nala returned, Greg consoled her and the Warden agreed to deliver a public apology to the rebellion. Later that night, before the meeting, she wandered the battlefield and discovered the fallen remains of her sister. In grief, she called out to her mother, and the Empress immediately began to travel south with Nala’s brother, the Archon Kiaama, in order to exact revenge upon the Shaper’s killer. The next day, Nala confronted the rebellion and delivered her admission of guilt and apology, and while the king expressed outrage at her being there, the rest of the rebels, urged on by Vox’s story of her saving him and Treepelt, cautiously accepted her apology. The king took the Warden in to speak with her privately and admitted that he was actually somewhat grateful for the change in his life, confusing but comforting the Warden. He agreed to share a mental link with her in order for her to do her job as the protector of the rebellion. That night, the Empress and the Archon arrived, and in examining the Shaper’s remains, they found it was the Eir Pride that killed her. They found Pride on the battlefield and fought against her, but the goddess managed to kill the Archon before she died, leaving the Empress in a haze of grief to return back home while Nala stayed with the rebels. Some time after, tremors were felt under the dungeon, and the great wolf Fenrir began burrowing upwards through the dungeon. The Warden protected Akkey as she created an enormous portal to teleport the entire dungeon a few hundred miles north, away from the threat, and coincidentally much closer to Midgardsormr. The rebels decided to confront Midgardsormr and convince him to let their dragons go, and Nala accompanied them. He forced them to undergo a trial of their relationship with their dragons and each other. They succeeded, but at the cost of Greg’s life. Nala was crushed and furious with grief, but then Midgardsormr revealed that he had kept his soul when he died and returned it to his body. The rebels returned home with their dragons and grieved for the rebels lost over the course of the rebellion and Ragnarok, and then finally celebrated the union of Treepelt and Vox. After the rebellion, the Warden became a kind of family figure to the rebels’ children, and they had adventures of their own, including a betrayal of her own family member, the accidental creation of a cult surrounding Nala herself, becoming an archdemon, and birthing her own children. But…I’ve talked on and on and on about the initial story arc so I won’t go into those, haha. Good gods you’re a trooper if you just read through all that. That was way too much info.

Appearance: Oh geez…okay, here we go. Nala is incorporeal to start with. She has no physical form, only an astral one. She’s also an involuntary shape-shifter. In general, her incorporeal forms are tall, feminine, humanoid and graceful to a certain degree, but she changes form with whomever she possesses, taking some of their physical characteristics as her own. Ordinary mortals cannot see her in an ethereal state, but she can alter the minds of those she touches and project herself into their vision, like a forced hallucination. The picture I included is her demon-made body and it’s how I usually like to draw her, and it’s the body she spends the most time in. It’s ten feet tall and made of porcelain and preserved human remains. Her face is a solid mask with only her eyes showing through, and she has two long horns and two shorter spikes on either side of her face. Her hair is reminiscent of space, a kind of astral substance, and varies from deep scarlet to dark indigo depending on her mood. The rest of her body is a sort of simple white porcelain armor, with muscle showing in between the joints (if you know MtG, she’s based on the design of Elesh Norn). I was sort of lazy on the picture above, she actually has a bare ribcage that she keeps her dual swords collapsed inside. She also doesn’t usually have pupils or that shawl, this is her a few hundred years after the main RP story arc ends, but I really liked this picture, so… :P You can actually see all of her various forms here, on her wiki page, same warnings above apply there too. If you want haha.

Personality: Nalaagura is wrath incarnate. She began as the epitome of the demon stereotype. Existing only to cause harm and death (so she thought), she actively sought out lives to ruin and things to gain for herself. Having been born of pure wrath, it came natural to her to be destructive and chaotic. She had a very aloof, condescending attitude towards mortals, viewing them much as a human would view an annoying insect. Bizarrely charming at times, but better off crushed under her foot. If they fought back, she took fiendish delight in toying with them With the events of the rebellion though, it was revealed to the Warden that her purpose was not to cause pain. She was stunned and angry by the revelation that she was meant to care for the mortals rather than hurt them. She spent a good while trying to untangle her benevolent feelings from her malicious ones. She began to care for a few people here and there, becoming fiercely protective of them and more affectionate while retaining her short temper and extreme passion. Her alignment shifts from Chaotic Evil to Chaotic Neutral and her MBTI type is ESTP.

Favorite things: Nala enjoys sparring and fighting, both with her body and her mind; it gives her a buzz like no other to wreck her enemies. She also has a sharp, abrasive wit and loves to trade jabs both jokingly and menacingly. Possessing others always gives her a thrill, though she doesn’t do it as much as she used to, only when necessary and convenient, since she uses it as more of a way to be close with somebody emotionally and protect them instead of a way to control them. She likes celebrating and commemorating things like birthdays and anniversaries of both happy and sad occasions (not with parties though, that’s too much, no thanks). She loves her family and her close loved ones. The sky is her favorite thing to watch, whether in the day with the sun burning across the land or massive billowing clouds racing each other in a blue field or a raging thunderstorm shaking with lightning. And at night, she’s captivated by the stars. Least favorite things: Nala doesn’t like being out of control of the situation, or planning ahead of time. She doesn’t enjoy not being the most powerful thing in the area, it unsettles her a lot. Singing and dancing is dumb, don’t make her do that. Traveling for her is tenuous and boring unless it involves fighting mages or practicing magic or something similar.

Strengths: I mentioned above, but Nalaagura has the ability to possess anything with a brain, basically. She sticks to fast animals and humans because she’s impatient and efficient. She can control one person absolutely and firmly, and that is her anchor, and she can possess more people at a time, but the more she stretches her control, the less control she has over someone. She can interact and fight with with other astral forms and consciousnesses, and can alter people’s perception of reality, mostly in the form of sight and sound. Even among demons she is immensely strong, as her mother was created by the goddess Hel and holds a higher position in the demon hierarchy than most. She has fast instincts, exceptional strength and accuracy, and is able to project images, thoughts, feelings, and her own voice into other people’s minds.  Weaknesses: Physical pain, it makes her lose focus and control over her vessel, affecting her more than it would a human. She also can’t interact with the physical world unless she has a body to channel her power into. Other than that, she doesn’t have many physical weaknesses. She has a very short fuse and an explosive rage, sometimes making terrible decision in the grips of her anger. Being a demon, these decisions can have much more disastrous consequences. And it isn’t very hard to inflame her. 

Additional notes: Uhhh…the modern AU version of her is pretty sweet, she’s a hardcore criminal carjacker that likes messing with the local college students whose “family” is a syndicate of other lawbreakers. I love her. The blog I use to roleplay and post art relating to Nalaagura is @demon-in-the-dungeon, if you’re interested at all. She’s got a p cool playlist on there.

Fanart: I would absolutely ADORE fanart or her, in any of her forms. They range from furries to just regular woman with a few demonic features if that’s more your thing instead of faceless spooky demon bodies lol. Gosh I’m a mess. rip. I hope you liked <3

[malmiele]

7kpp week Day 1 - Past

Run, run, run.

It’s late, forgive me.

The story of how my Revaire widow ended up marrying the Baron of Namaire.

“Stop it!” Paisley had coughed out in exasperation as the gaggle of serving girls laughed. She flicked Linda’s hand away as the other girl tried to poke her cheek.

The chatter died as they heard the clicking sounds of heeled shoes descend the stairway. 

It was Lady Aysel, the oldest daughter of the household, although her personality made one think she was more like the mother. And she will be one soon, Paisley thought. It was less than a moon’s turn before their Lady Aysel would wed and become the Baroness of Namaire. 

For the past few days, Lady Aysel had been clad in heavy brocades and satins that her future husband had sent over, but today was different. Paisley remembered the dress -- it had been bought for Lady Aysel a long time ago, when she was about twelve. Now the floaty ivory gossamer draped her figure snugly, and it actually fit just right, but the serving girls had been so used to seeing Lady Aysel in clothes a tad too large that this felt surreal.

“My lady!” Dahlia was the first to stand and curtsy. Then she straightened her back again, and held Lady Aysel’s delicate hands in her own. “You look so beautiful.”

A soft smile graced Lady Aysel’s features. “Thank you.” Her voice was so gentle, it could be carried away by the wind. Paisley wondered how a girl like her could possibly discipline her problematic younger brothers, but apparently she did that just fine, and the boys would fall in line when she told them to.

“Is there a special occasion today?” Winifred piped up. Linda hushed her. The serving girls had known Lady Aysel for so long, sometimes they nearly forgot she was their lady, not their peer. Thankfully, Lady Aysel was kind, forgiving and cared little for formalities directed at her. 

“Would any of you mind taking a walk with me? Just the fringes of the estate, nothing too strenuous I would believe.”

“I don’t mind,” Linda got up. “I’ll pack some water.” 

“I’ll go too,” Dahlia offered. “Would you need an umbrella?”

Lady Aysel shook her head.

Something felt off to Paisley, but she didn’t know what. “My lady, isn’t Sir Jovan coming over soon?” Sir Jovan was a boy around their age, a member of the landed gentry who lived a street away, and one of Lady Aysel’s best friends. He was smiley and likeable, and even Lady Aysel’s mother didn’t have the heart to bar him from visiting, although she had made it very clear from the start that he was neither rich enough nor prestigious enough for her daughter. 

Every week, Sir Jovan would pop by their place just to chat with Lady Aysel and play duets on the piano with her. The serving girls would all crowd around and watch them with wide-eyed wonder, while the rest of the children were off...somewhere. 

“Oh, he said he’s busy today.”

A churning in her gut compelled Paisley to follow Lady Aysel out on her walk too, although normally she wouldn’t have.

Lady Aysel was, as usual, completely happy with watching Linda and Dahlia chatter. Paisley was more withdrawn herself, but Linda always knew how to get a rise out of her, and Paisley found herself losing her composure more than once as they walked further away from civilisation. 

“How are things between you and Lord Behram?” Linda had suddenly asked.

“What do you even mean, how are things?!” Even Lady Aysel had laughed at that response, and Paisley could feel her cheeks heating. Lord Behram was the oldest of Lady Aysel’s younger brothers, a mere two days older than her, and thus they had been playmates in their infancy. But that was all -- no one would allow their heir to wed a serving girl.

Paisley, Linda, Dahlia and Winifred. All four of them had been born into the household they had worked in. Their parents and their grandparents had been working in this household too, during a time when they were prosperous and free of problems. As their funds dwindled, so did the number of servants, and only they were left. 

Paisley wished they had been born a few generations before. If they had, maybe Lady Aysel would be happily wed to Sir Jovan, but no. Lady Aysel was leaving to wed a rotund, red-faced man older than her own father. The Baron of Namaire wasn’t particularly repulsive -- in fact, he was quite genial -- but Paisley couldn’t help but feel slightly bitter. Their Lady Aysel deserved better. 

All at once, Paisley was shaken out of her thoughts by something whirring past her, so close to her face it almost took some flesh off. Before she had time to react, that something hit Lady Aysel square in the shoulder.

Dahlia shrieked. Linda tried to reach out to catch Lady Aysel. Another arrow whizzed past them and caused Linda to stumble as well, and Lady Aysel fell from her reach.

To Paisley’s horror, they had gotten far too close to the cliffsides, and Lady Aysel fell down. Down and down and down; Paisley had no clue how tall the cliffs were. 

More arrows rained down on them. Linda was crying, trying to get closer to the cliff’s edge without getting hit. Dahlia was screaming, screaming for Linda to stay back, although once the arrows stopped, she was the first to look over the edge.

She started choking up. “No, no, no,” she mumbled to herself, as Paisley inched closer as well. She could see the twisted silhouette of a girl in white lying on the ground, seemingly miles away. 

“We need help,” Paisley found herself. “We need help fast.” And then she began to run.

Run, run, run. It was the only way Paisley could stop herself from breaking down. She focused on the sound of her heaving and the trickles of sweat down her face and back and tried to push to the back of her mind that their Lady Aysel was dead. 

The day after Lady Aysel’s death, Linda left her job to become a nun. She said it was to repent for her sins, as she couldn’t save Lady Aysel. Everyone told her it wasn’t her fault, but Linda left nevertheless. 

They managed to find Lady Aysel’s body on the third day. Her face was smashed beyond recognition, but they identified her from her clothes and the bracelet on her arm. Lord Behram cried the most of all. He had always idolised his big sister. As she lay in the coffin, her youngest brother Lord Eamon covered her face with fragrant wildflowers. Lord Clyve (the second son) had attempted a laugh at that point, saying that roses and daisies would have been too cliche for Lady Aysel.

That night, Lady Aysel’s father called all the remaining children and serving girls to the dining hall. As Paisley gazed into the fireplace behind him, he stressed that Lady Aysel’s death was and must remain a secret within the family. No one outside, not even her friends like Sir Jovan was to know about it, lest it affect the family plans. And above all, the Baron of Namaire could never know.

“But he must,” Lady Noemi (the third daughter and Eamon’s twin) had said. “He was supposed to marry Big Sister, he’ll be angry if we don’t tell him.”

“Big Sister is still marrying Baron Namaire.” Their father attempted to sound reassuring.

“He’s marrying a ghost?!” Lord Eamon exclaimed, and was hushed by all his irritated older brothers.

“No, he isn’t. You see, children, we are in a most precarious position. We need the marriage to Baron Namaire, or our house will be burnt down by our creditors.”

“And who’s fault was that,” Lord Behram muttered under his breath.

“It took great efforts -- on our end and on Aysel’s end, too -- to successfully arrange such a match. And Tessaly (the second daughter) is too sickly to be considered a suitable bride, and Noemi is far too young. Thus, I need all of you to pretend that Aysel never died.”

“How?” The whole room was bewildered.

“Baron Namaire has bad eyesight. Paisley, I would like you to take Aysel’s place and wed him. He’d never be able to tell the difference.”

The dining room erupted into chaos.

If looks could kill, the glare Winifred sent would have killed Lady Aysel’s father six times over.

Lady Noemi dropped the cup of hot chocolate she was holding into Lord Eamon’s lap, but he was too in shock to realise that it even happened. 

Behram stormed up to his father. “How could you?!”

Clyve stormed off in the opposite direction, leaving the manor without a second word.

Paisley...all Paisley wanted to do was run. But she couldn’t.

The opaque veil covering her face made it particularly hard for her to walk, but it had to be done. If everything else was not considered, the wedding was actually quite enjoyable -- good clothes, good food.

Lord Behram had locked himself up in his room and refused to come out. His parents could only say he was sick.

And Lord Clyve, he had been missing ever since that night. 

Lady Tessaly gave Paisley a necklace, saying that it was a wedding gift from Sir Jovan, and that he apologised for not being able to turn up for the wedding.

It struck Paisley as odd, as surely Lady Aysel’s best friend should have known that she was allergic to silver. 

Just before the end of the wedding celebrations, Lady Noemi had approached her, half-dragging Lord Eamon. After some nudging from his twin sister, Lord Eamon produced a vial pendant containing a clear liquid from his sleeve.

“One drop every night before he goes to sleep,” he whispered.

“What exactly is this?”

“I think they call it dreamwine on the market,” Lady Noemi replied, “but that is milky while ours is homemade so you could call them health-improving drugs.”

Paisley took the vial, rolling it in her palms, wondering why she needed to drug her husband to sleep every night.

“Big Sister deserved better. So do you, Miss Paisley,” Lord Eamon said, face incredibly solemn for a 13-year-old. 

“Baron Namaire is old and rich. As long as you don’t have his children, you will get his money when he dies,” Lady Noemi pointed out.

Lord Eamon nodded. “You just have to hold out for a little while, Miss Paisley. It’ll be over soon. And when it does, you can do whatever you want.”

What do I want? It was a question Paisley had never asked herself before, but now she was Aysel, and so many things were within her reach...

Paisley would try to reach them all.

[shinwhoohoo]

since I'm bored again lol, please write the first three words, which comes on your mind for each of the b1a4 members and explain XDDD if you can XDDD (i hope you can understand me and my gibberish XD)

ah this is an interesting ask, thank you!!

Jinyoung: Talented, Respectful, Patient

I think everyone would agree with me for the first word. The man is extremely talented, juggling being a terrific leader, a great singer, a wonderful composure, and an up-and-coming actor. The fact that he can manage it all and still be standing is a display of how ‘driven’ (which could be another word I would use to describe if given more than three!! lol). The next two words play into his capabilities as a leader. He is respectful of course to his fellow members, which provides a solid base of friendship in which they could better develop as a group. And of course he’s respectful to his fans, comrades or fellow staff members, etc. I mean B1A4 as a whole are known in the industry as being one of the most respectful groups, cleaning up after photoshoots and what not, but Jinyoung really takes the top place for this. Another facet to his good leadership is that he’s patient. He waits until he gets the perfect take during recordings, instead of rushing to finish. He works well with the girl groups he’s composed for, producing great songs. I know the members have joked about him being ‘intimidating’ during recordings, but we all know they wouldn’t be as close as they were if that was the case. Jinyoung is such an integral part of the group, as leader, in keeping them together and so strong.

CNU: Introspective, Guarded, Caring

So some of you may know already, but even if I could only pick one word for CNU, that’d be ‘introspective’. Like that IS my word for him. He is constantly thinking about what the situation, what he should say and how he should react to it. Part of this I think came from insecurities (from events of his past, perhaps), but I also think that’s just genuinely who he is. Everything he says is planned and with reason. Which kinda takes us to the next word, guarded. He’s a cautious person, probably why he was known as being ‘slow’ when they first debuted. Obviously we know he can be fast when he wants to, but his slowness, both mentally and physically, came from his need to survey the situation, almost as if he was thinking of what could possibly go wrong, and how he’d react to it. He’s also known as being the ‘mom’ of the group, and this is demonstrated in how caring he is with the members. Especially when they were living together, he’d be the one to make sure no one forgot anything, being the last to leave and turn the lights off. And he’s admitted as rookies he’d try and guide the younger members because he cared about them improving and doing their best. And I don’t think I need to get into how much he cares for his fans, that’s is very apparent!!

Sandeul: Genuine, Positive, Forgiving

Unlike CNU, Sandeul doesn’t do too much over thinking when it comes to his actions (and reactions!). Everything he says comes out instantaneously, which provides much of the funnier moments. But I think because of this, everything he says and does can be said to be more ‘genuine’ than the others. It’s just what he is really feeling in that moment, and he wants to share it. Going along with this, most of his reactions are upbeat, or ‘positive’. He can put you in a good mood when you are feeling sad, and I think if we were able to peak in on their dorm life, Sandeul was the main one in helping the boys stay light hearted during times of negativity. And that shouldn’t be underestimated. The last word comes from the interactions we see between Sandeul and the members. CNU and Jinyoung are constantly poking and squishing him, riling him up or giving him a hard time, along with Baro (and occasionally Gongchan). Of course it’s all in good fun, but going back further there’s been more serious instances that have been admitted, like Baro not paying Sandeul back (or saying he has no money on him and making Sandeul pay), and Sandeul doesn’t really get too bothered by it. Things just slide off him, without ruining his mood. Perhaps ‘tolerant’ would be a good word, too.

Baro: Competitive, Clever, Complex

Baro definitely likes to win. And more than that, he’s oddly good at winning. Taking out rock paper scissors (which is Gongchan’s forte), Baro is the one that usually comes in first when they are doing those strange games or challenges during shows and appearances. He was voted as “May King’, as well by the fans. And of course he’s the most athletic of the members, so combining that with his competitiveness will lead to more wins, I guess. BUT to add to that, I think he’s also quite clever. He has a lot of ‘street smarts’, and that carries over into his ability to perform well on camera. He’s a good mood maker, because he is able to read the situation, and predict what can happen next so that he can provide the best reaction. When it comes to all the members appearing on a show solo, Baro is definitely the best. He has the natural knack for it, and I think the first two words play into that. However… I also think that he’s the most different off screen versus on screen. So when I say ‘complex’, I mean that in a more emotional way. What we, as fans, are only seeing is the surface of his emotions, when there is actually a lot more there.People who aren’t familiar with the group would probably be surprised to know that he’s quite chill during his down time, liking to be by himself and read books. Unlike Sandeul, I think that while Baro is excellent at socializing, it is overall draining for him, and he needs his time to himself at night when the cameras are off. I don’t know, even after all these years Baro is still kinda confusing to me. Hence my choice of ‘complex’.

Gongchan: Quirky, Aware, Intelligent

So I mentioned Baro is the best at varieties and such, but Gongchan would be a close second for me. The main thing holding him back is that he isn’t as comfortable by himself, but he is so good at reading social situations and queues as well! He has this ‘awareness’ where he is able to watch people, get a read off them, and be able to adapt accordingly. He is definitely one to initially sit back until he can accurately get a grasp of the person and their personality… almost like he has compartments in his mind that he shuffles people into? If that makes sense…. and from there he is able to decide how much of his quirkiness can show. He can be quite extra at times, demonstrating his animal sounds or ability to win against almost anyone in rock paper scissors, or just the random things he says… but the awareness also comes with a more mature side, as he helps his hyungs out during more emotionally charged or stressful moments, being able to almost know in advance where they’ll need help. And honestly, I think the first two words I used are so prevalent because he’s a very ‘intelligent’ individual. I don’t mean that he can solve complex theorems (as we saw during Celebrity Bromance, Hongbin was shocked at how bad his math was!!) but more that…he’s more spatially intelligent? Like he’s good with logic oriented tasks, navigating, keeping the boys on track and recognizing patterns, both physical and emotional. If I were stuck stranded on an island and could only pick one of the boys, I’d want Gongchan with me, for example lol. I already used the word ‘complex’ with Baro, but I think it’s quite fitting for Gongchan, as well. He really needs more recognition!