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ao3porcelainstorm · 4 years

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poison ivy & stinging nettles 5

On Ao3

Pairing: Sherlock/OFC

Rated: M

Warnings: eventual violence, torture, swears, adult themes (no explicit smut)

Chapter 4 - Chapter 6

Chapter 5- Fungi

~~~

Despite the initial tension regarding Jessica Reynolds, things seem to be progressing well with Amelia’s case. Sherlock was able to pull a number of shipping manifests from the assistant’s computer, each bound for the manufacturing factory in Manila.

It was fortunate that it confirmed almost every compound Amelia had noted when she stole the data set, at least in the cancer drugs.

The problem was the secondary product bound into the cancer drugs that caused adverse effects. The details on the manifests were less than helpful…

~~~

“Psilocybe mushroom components,” Amelia read the computer screen out loud for the third time since Sherlock had passed it to her, annoyance in her tone. “That’s it?”

“Magic mushrooms?” John asked, passing her a cup of tea, she immediately set it aside, scrolling through the computer logs further. “Seems straightforward enough.”

“John, there are over 200 different types of Psilocybe spores,” Amelia pinched the bridge of her nose, taking a deep breath. “Sherlock, please tell me you have an idea for how we can possibly narrow it down?”

“How many did you use in your research?” The detective asked, reaching for his own tea cup.

“47,” she answered. “Two were almost identical hybrids, so maybe 46.”

“There you go,” he smirked over the rim of his cup. “Narrowed down.”

“You know we’re going to have to get samples, even if we run the equations, some might work but not technically be the component. Not to mention the cancer drugs might be different,” she groaned and set her cup aside, throwing her head back against the sofa.

“Sherlock, it might be time to contact your brother,” John suggested quietly, earning a glare from the brunette.

“You have a brother?” Amelia asked, her head still flung back with her eyes closed. “Please tell me he’s a reputable drug dealer because it’s going to be a pain in the ass getting these things.”

“Even better, he’s a member of her Majesty’s Royal Government,” Sherlock chimed back. Amelia snorted, remaining still.

“He could also order seizures of the shipments,” John reminded the group coolly, sensing the rising tension between the group.

“Unhelpful if we can’t properly determine the malicious components, John,” Sherlock shot back, picking up on Amelia’s frustration. “The idea is that Chemco’s random samples are unable to be traced, and random.”

“Certainly a shipment would contain some variations?” he asked the pair. Amelia threw her arms up hopelessly, and he frowned. “Sherlock, don’t tell me you’re at a loss?”

“Short of breaking into a hospital, stealing their current supply, and testing it against the 46 varieties of mushroom Mia has worked with, this doesn’t lend a more efficient solution,” the detective hummed, drumming his fingers on his chin in thought.

Silence fell over the group, each person thinking through potential solutions.

“Monty!” Amelia shot up, nearly startling John into dropping his tea.

“What on earth-?” The doctor grumbled while Amelia fished out her phone.

“Ruthie’s brother in law, Monty, he’s an, er, herbal enthusiast,” she explained, tapping into her phone. “I bought a few illicit plants from him when I first moved over. He’s basically got everything you could think of. If not, he’ll know someone who does.”

“Is he in London?”

“Canterbury, lives down the road from Ruthie and her husband,” Amelia got a ping back. “Says we can swing by tomorrow if we’d like. I know offhand, I saw at least a dozen spores in one of his cold storages. I’ll dig up my research list, I can probably narrow down the list from 46 to something more reasonable if I look through what moved to the second stages of trials.”

“And then we go shopping for illicit drugs,” John replied dryly. “And what about the cancer medications?”

Sherlock and Amelia exchanged humored glances. There was certainly something that the doctor was missing.

“What?” John gawked between the pair. “You’re not actually breaking into a hospital, are you?”

“We wouldn’t need much, maybe one or two treatments?” Sherlock asked Amelia, who nodded after doing a quick calculation in her head.

“The binding components are easy enough to track down over the counter, though we might need a better equipped lab than what you’ve got in the kitchen,” she noted.

“That’s not a problem,” Sherlock waved her off, skimming through the list of components from the shipping logs. “Easy.”

“I don’t like it when you two conspire together. It always leads to some sort of trouble,” John pressed, frown deepening.

“John, you’re a doctor,” Amelia reminded him excitedly. “Prescribe poor Sherlock Holmes a chemotherapy treatment for the tumor in his ego.”

“No, absolutely not,” John stood up. “That violates so many ethical rules- besides, you’re a licensed pharmacist. It’d be easier for you.”

“Not here, not yet. I mean, we can let innocent, immune compromised patients die,” Amelia shrugged, leaning back into the sofa. “What a shame about the little babies with leukemia. All because my wicked mother wanted a second mega yacht.”

“What truly is the core of medical ethics Dr. Watson?” Sherlock inquired, slowly closing his laptop, his gaze boring into his friend. “Is it not to protect life?”

John Watson, caught between an American and a hard place, was less than thrilled when he finally, begrudgingly, scribbled his name on a prescription pad and passed it to Sherlock.

“If my license is revoked-,” he threatened, holding it away from Sherlock briefly.

“Will you kill him?” Amelia asked, grabbing her crimson scarf from the back of the sofa and wrapping it around her shoulders. “Because I’d be very interested in seeing that.”

“Don’t think you get off that easy,” John turned his attention to Amelia while Sherlock scampered to his coat, mocking Amelia over John’s shoulder with a smirk. “You’re equally responsible for anything that goes wrong.”

“That’s not fair, I’m an innocent bystander to your collusion,” she pouted, catching her navy pea coat when John tossed it at her head.

“Careful John,” Sherlock warned, passing the doctor his jacket, shielding his friend from Amelia’s sad eyes. “Keep her pouting like that and she’ll convince you to clean her hair out of the shower drain.”

“Just go,” John shoved the detective through the doorway, not bothering to wait for the grumbling Amelia as she pulled her boots on and stumbled her way out the door behind them.

~~~

“And you’re going to be administering the medications at home?” the chemist studied the prescription order, glancing over the paper to John with a quirked brow.

“That’s right,” he answered with a curt nod, his hands stuffed in his pockets to try and stave off the nervous energy that radiated through his core.

“To a Mr. William Holmes?” the chemist looked to Sherlock next to him. “Is that you?”

“Yes,” he pulled out his ID and passed it to the woman, flashing a quick smile.

“Did you guys know that Beyonce is pregnant again?” Amelia held up a tabloid to Sherlock. “Oh wait, never mind. Just a rumor.”

“Who is this?” the chemist paused, looking up at Amelia.

“His fiancé,” she replied, setting the magazine aside and looping an arm through Sherlock’s. “Here for moral support. He’s just starting treatment and is nervous as all get out, isn’t that right, love?” For added effect, she snuggled closer, pressing her cheek against his arm.

“I wouldn’t have made it in one piece without her,” he nodded, giving her cheek a quick peck. “Just an absolute blessing.”

“We’re just so lucky to find Dr. Watson,” Amelia continued with a long sigh. “Not a lot of doctor’s are willing to do home treatments within the NHS, you know. And of course I’m completely out of my element with all of it!”

The chemist chuckled empathetically, asking how the pair met as she typed up the order for the supplies. Sherlock and Amelia shot back and forth, exchanging little tidbits about their “relationship” enough to almost convince John it was real.

“The order will be ready tomorrow morning,” the woman smiled at the trio and reached for Amelia’s hand. “I’ll be praying for you both.”

“You’re an angel,” Amelia replied, giving them a squeeze before ushering the group out of the pharmacy with a final wave at the woman.

Back on the street, Amelia slipped a hand into Sherlock’s pocket, pulling out his wallet.

“I did not know your name was William,” she studied his ID, trying to memorize the details before he snatched it from her. “And you’re only three years older than me? I don’t believe that.”

Sherlock grabbed the wallet and ID out her hands, returning them to his coat pocket with a huff.

“Is there no privacy with you?” he grumbled. “And what’s so surprising about how old I am?”

“I just figured you were older,” she shrugged. “I mean, I’m almost thirty, right? I figured you were like, almost forty or something.”

John sputtered out a laugh.

“That’s spectacular,” he threw an arm around her shoulders. “How old do you think I am?”

“John, in all honesty, I have no idea,” she answered. “Sometimes I’m convinced you’re fifty, other times you have to be my age.”

Sherlock snorted under his breath.

“It’s a fair assessment,” she insisted, frowning apologetically at John. “You get very grumpy in the mornings, and the matching flannel pajamas don’t help very much.”

“They’re warm.”

“I’m sure they’re wonderful,” Amelia smiled, patting his arm in a placating tone. “I’m just a terrible judge of age apparently. I should have know how old you actually were with all of the part-time super models you bring by.”

“Mia, you’re digging yourself into a hole you’ll regret for the foreseeable future,” Sherlock warned.

“Shush,” Amelia swatted his arm.

“That reminds me,” John glanced down at his phone. “I have a second date with Ann tonight.”

“Is she the one with the Pomeranian?” Amelia asked hopefully. He shook his head and she sighed. “I liked that one.”

“You liked the dog and I’m very allergic,” John reminded her. “Ann is a barrister.”

“Maybe you should make sacrifices for your relationships, John,” she countered. “Have fun with your boring lawyer date.”

“Ann is the boring one, that’s right,” Sherlock perked up.

“She is not boring,” John insisted, flagging down a taxi.

“We’ll call with an ‘emergency’ in a bit,” Amelia promised earnestly. “Get you out of talks about law and order. Blegh.”

“I’m turning my phone off,” he called, slipping into the backseat of the taxi.

“If it wasn’t so cold, I’d be half tempted to follow them,” Amelia mused, continuing down the street with the detective.

“Don’t, they’re seeing that action movie that just came out,” he sighed dramatically. "Boring."

“Movies never make sense as an early date,” she noted. “You can’t talk. How do you get to know anything about the other person? They could be a serial killer for all you know.”

“Exactly, hardly an intimate setting,” he shook his head in disappointment. Amelia looked at him in surprise, stifling a laugh. “What?”

“It’s hard to picture you trying to take someone on a date,” she confessed lightly.

“You’re one to talk,” he countered quickly. “You never leave the flat.”

“You literally don’t let me?” she replied with another laugh. “And arguably, I’ve gone at least one more date than you in the last month.”

“Jessica Reynolds does not count,” he shot back.

“She has the remnants of my favorite shirt on her bedroom floor,” Amelia shivered at the memory. “She counts. John’s been on half a dozen dates since then, yet I’m fairly certain I heard you making love to your calculator the other night.”

“Why did I allow you to move into my building?” Sherlock kept his focus forward. “And I’d be a wonderful date, assuming I knew who i was meeting and could plan accordingly.”

“You’d stalk your date for ideas,” Amelia bit back a smirk. “It’d almost be endearing if it wasn’t super illegal.”

“I do not have to stalk someone to take them on a decent date,” he insisted. “What about you? What would you do aside from a bar?”

“First of all, I would never take someone to a bar on a first date,” she held a hand up, stopping in front of him. “It’s tacky. Would you want to date someone tacky?”

“Ok, where would you take me?” he offered, folding his arms across his chest. Amelia considered his challenge, pulling out her cell phone and tapping at the screen. Grinning at the device, she looked up at him.

“I get a little leeway because I’m not from here,” she warned, flagging down a passing cab.

“What are you doing?” he watched her chat with the driver, and look up at him expectantly.

“I’m taking you on a date,” she answered. “Get in Mr. Holmes, and prepare to be wooed.”

~~~

The Barbican Conservatory wasn’t very busy at midday in the middle of the week, so they were able to secure entrance and tour around the large space without too much interruption from other guests.

“There are over 1,500 different plants in 23,000 cubic square feet of space,” Amelia tucked her hands behind her back. “And the ponds feature koi and carp from Japan and America respectively.”

“Did you just read the pamphlet?” Sherlock asked, looking over the informational packet. “Because you quoted the first paragraph verbatim.”

“It’s because I’m well versed in what I sought out,” she answered with a grin. “Look, flowers.”

She pulled him toward a large selection of tropical flora, naming the species as they moved through in both their common names and scientific ones.

“This one is particularly rare,” she gestured to a bright red flower, the pamphlet long discarded in her coat pocket. Sherlock listened intently, occasionally chiming in his own facts about the flora that surrounded them. He could tell she was pleasantly surprised at his own knowledge on some of the more obscure plants.

“Waitwaitwait,” Amelia pulled him by the wrist toward a large swath of sunflowers. “They’re taller than you, that’s so cool!”

“Does that make them extra haughty?” he retorted, letting her shove him in front of the flowers. She snapped a picture while he continued to quip, ignoring his comments a moment while she saved it to her phone. “Do not show that to anyone.”

“I would never,” she promised. “It’s a good picture, though.” She held her phone up, and sure enough, she’d captured a flattering angle while he’d been laughing.

“I’m not haughty,” he quickly stated.

“You know that isn’t their only meaning,” she hummed, tucking the phone away. “They also mean strength, happiness, confidence… I think they sum you up perfectly.”

“Happiness?”

“Oh that’s right, you were happy once and it was terrible,” she replied coyly. “How could I have forgotten? Happiness can mean bringing it to others as well, Sherlock.”

She turned to look at some lilacs, absently chatting while he stood frozen in place, the words running on repeat in the front of his mind.

Who did he make happy?

~~~

Amelia had a mouth full of falafel when Sherlock decided on where he was going to take her next.

“Mmwha mwean?” she asked, tilting her head in confusion. “Dwon’t swteal mwwy dawte!”

“You did an adequate job,” he answered. “But I still think I’m the superior date planner.”

She swallowed her food, eyeing distrustfully.

“I’m only interested if it’s a very old cemetery,” she replied, stealing one of his chips. “And it better be nighttime and there had better be ghosts.”

“There is no such thing as ghosts,” Sherlock clarified sharply.

“Consider this date over,” she stood up from the public bench they’d settled on. “It’s not me, it’s definitely you.”

“Amelia, come back,” he called, but she continued down the road, night starting to swallow the city. “They’re theoretically impossible.”

~~~

Amelia had to admit (though never out loud), Sherlock Holmes did know a thing or two about impressing a date (despite his disbelief in ghosts).

He purchased her a pink peony, her favorite flower, from a street vendor.

Next, they went to the aquarium, where they wandered away from the main tour and Sherlock gave his own version of the tour, naming the fish and telling her random facts about their origins. Together, they came up with complex names and origin stories for all of the fish.

“The puffer fish is obviously fed up with the whale shark’s nonsense,” Amelia laughed, pointing out the fish blowing up as the white shark passed it in the tank. “He’s probably having an affair with the puffer fish’s wife.”

“I don’t know, the whale shark was eyeing the sea turtle…” Sherlock mused, watching the mesmerizing scene next to her.

Every once in a while, Amelia would steal a look at him. The way the light reflected around them, and how it flickered through his blue eyes- should almost wished she had a paint pallet to try and capture the almost perfect cerulean color.

They left the aquarium chuckling about an octopus that had escaped during a demonstration, night having finally swept over the city.

“Ok,” she relented. “You win this round.”

“I’m not done yet,” he pulled his phone out and glanced up. “We have a final stop.”

“What else could you have planned on such short notice?” she asked, letting him grab her hand and pull her along.

“I told you, I know what I’m doing,” he teased, stopping after a few blocks, looking up at the glowing carriages of the London Eye. “It’s not a cemetery.”

“Might be better,” Amelia admitted.

And it was.

Amelia had never experienced anything so spectacular in her life. The lights over the Thames and the London skyline were unlike anything she’d seen before. The old city had a different energy to it compared to New York, and from the top of the famous Ferris wheel, she could see it all.

“I can’t believe we live in the same city as all of this,” she gestured below them. “It doesn’t seem real.”

“It looks like stars,” he agreed, looking over the edge.

“And the reflection on the river?” Amelia continued to gush in excitement, practically jumping around the edges of the capsule as they moved through the sky.

It was over far too quickly, though Amelia knew they needed to get back. John was probably long home from his date.

“You win,” she sighed. “You definitely win, but only for today.”

“That means there’s a second date?” he smirked, offering her his arm as they walk. She took it, falling in step while they tried to track down a taxi.

Amelia knew he was teasing. It was more of an outing between friends, a means to prove a point with no real intimate feelings involved. A challenge.

She repeated this to herself as she stared at the peony in her hands on the taxi ride home. Or when Sherlock made a quiet quip about extra marital whale shark affairs.

He had to prove his point, and he did. She was sufficiently surprised, and very much felt conflicted about it.

When they returned, Amelia cut into the conversation before John could ask where they’d been. He told her all about his date, and that while Ann was very nice, there probably wasn’t a third date in their future.

“Because she’s boring?” Sherlock joked, pulling out his laptop and checking his email.

“We have different interests,” John clarified sharply. “I think I’m going to take a break from dating for a bit. What about you two? What did you do all day?” His eyes fell on the peony in Amelia’s hand, and she froze, not sure how to respond.

“We went on a date,” Sherlock spoke up confidently from his perch, eyeing John and waiting for a reaction.

“You… on a date?” he looked between the pair. “Both of you? Together?”

Admittedly, it was a bit fun watching their friend process the information. Amelia just braced herself for when Sherlock clarified their challenge with one another.

“Yep,” he answered, popping the “p”. “It was a lovely day, wasn’t it Mia?”

Dazed, Amelia choked out an affirmative, her head still catching up with the fact there hadn’t been any specifications as to the motivation behind everything.

“A long day,” she forced out a yawn. “I’m going to put this in some water and head to bed. We’ve got an early morning tomorrow, don’t forget. I have our train tickets already, but one of you needs to get the chemotherapy into the fridge before we go.”

Both men said goodnight and she slipped downstairs to her apartment, sneaking a final glance over her shoulder, in case he was going to add anything else to the date conversation.

“A date?” John waited until Amelia was out of earshot. “You never mentioned being interested like that. In fact, you mocked me.”

“We were merely getting to know one another,” he shrugged. “Initially we were trying to prove a point, but it turned into an enjoyable afternoon. Though, I wouldn’t get too excited about it, John.”

“And why not?” John asked. “She’s been here for two months now, you two get along in your weird, mad scientist way, it could be a good match.”

“I’m far too busy to have time for romantic partners,” Sherlock shot the suggestion down. He stilled, his hands resting on the keys of his laptop. “And she seemed odd just now, didn’t she?”

“No more than usual,” John replied. “Worried she didn’t enjoy herself? You got her a flower, I’m sure she was enthralled.”

“A peony,” Sherlock corrected quietly. “She likes peonies. They’re in the perfume she wears.”

“Maybe she’s just deep in denial, much like yourself, and needed to sleep to get her head straight?” John snorted, standing up from his chair. “Speaking of, don’t stay up too late.”

Sherlock waved him off, staring down at his computer and re-reading the same sentence over and over. He couldn’t focus on any of his cases right now, his head was all over the place.

Grabbing his violin, he plucked away at the strings, trying to find a sound for the chaos in his head.

Meanwhile, laying in bed with her eyes closed, listening to the soft sounds, Amelia decided she had more important things to think about besides date challenges and eccentric roommates.

Things like corrupt CEOs and fungi.

Chapter 6

#sherlock original female character #sherlock holmes #sherlock #sherlock/ofc #sherlock bbc #sherlock fanfiction #sherlock holmes fanfiction #sherlock fanfic #writing #john watson #watson #OFC #sherlock/oc #sherlock/reader #reader insert #reader

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aworldoffandoms · 6 years

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Runaway - Chapter 4

Chapter 4 - Duty Calls

Pairing: Liam x MC [Ariel]

Word Count: 3, 857+/- (my words got away with me)

Rating: T

Warnings: Minor swearing

Summary: Liam continues with his duties as king but stumbles upon information that brings him a step closer to getting the answers he seeks.

MASTERLIST

Tag list: @hopefulmoonobject @annekebbphotography @am-i-invisible777 @blznbaby @khakie4 @lauradowning29 @blackcoffee85 @captain-kingliamsqueen @moneyfordiamonds @super-secret-fandom-blog @jovialyouthmusic @zaffrenotes @ao719 @umccall71 @carabeth @furiousherringoperatortoad

Let me know if you want to be tagged!

A special shoutout to @ernestsinclairs ! Thank you for all your edits, suggestions and rewrites! You are honestly the best! :)

The sun had chosen today of all days to hide behind the clouds as Liam exits the palace to head into the capital. Situations like a queen’s disappearance still didn’t exempt him of his duties. There was the grand opening of a new cancer wing of the Children's hospital, the annual yacht race preparations, the tedious task of approving foreign business licenses afterward. A little pang speared him in the heart as the first task strayed into his mind. The treatment had been set in a new healthcare scheme that Ariel had spearheaded as queen. One last act of the most benevolent person he knew. Families would be able to claim treatment on this scheme and be able to pay the treatment off within their price range. A win-win in any case. Liam would do anything to make it easier on the families going through turmoil with a sick child.

Liam knew he needed this, not only because Regina had urged him to, but for his people as well. He hadn’t been out of the palace for an official engagement in almost a month. His people were getting anxious and it didn’t help that the media was exacerbating the situation -- even bringing up Ariel’s disappearance more than twice in each broadcast.

In all instances, Liam had to agree with this statement, because, in some way, it was true. Although finding Ariel was his top priority, he feels his heart squeeze with guilt as he realizes that his people, his country, needs their King. He couldn’t afford them losing faith in him now.

Having a country which didn’t support him would be the final nail in his heart and his mental stability.

Ariel needs me also…

Liam had to prioritize in some way. This searching was becoming all-consuming and maybe, just maybe, it was starting to wear on him.

He was exhausted all the time. Less than 4 hours sleep, paired with those eight o’clock meetings every day and signing off on royal papers in between, while also searching for Ariel and he’s already on thin ice.

This was unhealthy and his people were starting to see the cracks.

Liam steels himself as he squares his shoulders while taking a deep breath and plasters the regal smile on his face he used for all royal occasions.

As soon as he steps out of the black SUV, the dulled voices of the crowd outside erupts into cheering and loud exclamations from the excited crowd at seeing their King again.

“Your Majesty! Your Majesty!”

“Oh my goodness! It’s the King!”

“I feel like we haven’t seen King Liam in ages. Does he look tired to you?”

That last comment hit a nerve but he pretends not to notice and keeps his carefully composed mask on his face as he continues his march towards the hospital.

He gives the crowd a smile and waves as he makes the rounds talking to a few commoners and nobles that have gathered for the cutting of the ribbon.

Bastien then guides him to the wing of the hospital where he is met with the Director of Medicine of the Cordonian Children’s Hospital. What was her name? Ingrid, probably.

Ingrid curtsies and raises her hand to Liam and gives him a smile. “Thanks for coming, your majesty. We are so honored to have you here.”

Liam smiles, reciprocating the gesture as he gives the director a firm handshake. “I am always happy to offer my support in any way possible that helps the children of Cordonia.”

Ingrid flashes him another warm smile.

“Well…if you’ll follow me I’ll give you a tour of the new wing and then you can cut the ribbon to commemorate its opening.”

Liam nods as he follows Ingrid with Bastien and the King’s Guard following close. The media trails behind them with a few cameras recording his journey through the hospital with avid interest.

The tour goes well and Liam offers a genuine smile to the cameras as he cuts the ribbon. On his way to the car, he stops and offers a few words to some kids that were clamoring to get a glimpse of the king. He had a few kind words to them until Bastien ushered him away. Duties in Valtoria awaited.

Hana and Maxwell had put all their energy into keeping that duchy alive and since both were on the Royal Council they had enough power to help. Liam had no qualms with that, given that he gave Ariel that duchy, to begin with.

Another royal engagement and another day without his queen. He almost wonders if this is what he’ll end up doing for the rest of his life. Taking it day by day, barely existing as the world moves on around him.

Liam sighs as he loosens his tie, stepping into the wardrobe that he once shared with his wife. His eyes glance to her side and another wave of pain spears through him at seeing it empty.

He swallows the lump in his throat. How can he still feel this way? Why can’t he move on? It was like he was stuck in mud or bound by chains and only Ariel had the means to get him out. She was the only one to lift him from this horrid, dark place that he’s been in ever since she left.

Liam turns around to step onto his side of their wardrobe and strips off his official daily regalia. As he shrugs off his jacket a flash of white catches his eye under the lights and his breath catches as he realizes that it was his royal wedding outfit. His heart thunders in his chest and his mind flits back to that day when Ariel’s face lit up as their eyes met from opposite sides of the cathedral. He wanted to run to her but knew it wasn’t the customary thing to do and instead marvelled at her beauty.

He runs his fingers down the sleeve of his wedding jacket, despite the pain he feels he can’t help but smile. He has to remember the good times he had with Ariel. He needs to have hope. That’s all he has left.

As he turns to go into the bathroom, his fingers catch on something as they were still trailing down the front of his jacket and he snaps his head to his white tux and furrows his brow.

What could that possibly be?

Liam’s brow creases even further as he steps closer and digs into the front pocket of his jacket. His fingers latch on to something hard and paper-like. He lifts it from its confines and finds a folded piece of paper.

His eyes narrow as his mouth twists in confusion.

“What is this?” Liam mumbles as he flips it over.

Something nags at him and his stomach clenches when he realizes that this is another letter as he finds his name on top of it in the unmistakable cursive script of his wife.

Why would Ariel write me another note?

Liam’s heart almost stops. A new note? She honestly couldn’t break his heart more than she already has? Her words in her goodbye letter still haunt him.

He gulps as he slowly opens the note with shaking hands. His pulse increases when he finds his name at the top of the note, but it patters off in confusion when he finds a cluster of letters underneath it.

***

B TF WHBGC MABL YHK PHNK IKHMXVMBHG.

PAXG RHN WXVBIXK

MABL, FTR RHNK CHNKGXRZ MTDX RHN MH FHLVHP – KHNY TGLPXKL PBEE UX MHXKE

UX LTYX, FR EHOY

***

I am doing this for your protection. When you decipher this, may your journeys take you to Moscow - your answers will be there.

Be safe, my love

***

What in god’s name is this?

They were all a jumble of words, though their meaning was obviously forthcoming. Something so important and astounding that it could blow this whole investigation of trying to find his queen wide open. As a king…should he know what this means?

Maybe he came across a topic like this in his studies as a teen, but being a teen and a prince at the same time, he’d followed in Leo’s example just once, wanting reckless adventure and wallowing in luxury. His education was important, but he found himself bored with Machiavellian theory and fork placement for five hours a day when all he wanted was to sneak out and play maze tag with his friends and brother.

Right now, he wants to kick his younger self.

One thing was for sure…he needed to get this piece of paper deciphered and the only person who knew how to at least try to understand that paper was Regina. Surely she would be willing to help - this was her daughter-in-law and the chance for a grandchild after all.

Liam wants to get to it straight away but as he glances at his watch, the time had simply flown by. Regina would most definitely be asleep, and she didn’t particularly like to be waked.

He’d ask her in the morning, he thought to himself as he felt a yawn overtake him.

Stepping in front of the vanity, the contents of the note still perplexing him as he finishes, dries and gets ready for bed.

Liam closes his eyes, the letters dancing behind his closed lids.

His gut told him that those jumbles of words were important. Hadn’t Ariel been the one to teach him that? It had to be a test. But…why did it take him two years to find it?

That suit jacket had hung on his shoulders for so many times since her disappearance…how did it just show up now?

Could it be possible that Ariel had planned this in her own way?

Liam’s face lights up in a smile, even as sleep starts to come for him. To this day, Ariel still surprises him. Her unpredictability and decisiveness always manages to surprise him. Damn, she was a force. And he loves her more for it.

I miss you, Ariel.

Liam’s eyes prickle with tears, the cloud of sorrow almost drowning him again as the remains of his broken heart melt on the floor as it calls for his life back.

Liam turns to his side and splays his hand out on Ariel’s side of the bed. He sighs. He wishes. He yearns and he aches and desires for her to be beside him so he can cradle her in his arms, sink into her scent of freesia and strawberries.

Liam drifts off into a deep slumber with the face of his beloved behind his eyes, hoping wherever she was, she was thinking of him too.

***

“Breaking News just coming out from Sweden...Prince Carl Philip has been confirmed missing by King Carl Gustav and Queen Silvia. The prince was last seen out with friends before disappearing after a royal engagement. The prince’s security detail was reportedly neutralized.

The Swedish Royal family has released a statement to the public:

“We are utterly distraught at the prospect of our son, Prince Carl Philip, missing. Our security staff and national police are looking into his disappearance. If anyone saw anything last night, please ring the royal press office at 9398-2345-5443 or email at [email protected]

We thank you for all your thoughts and prayers at this tough time and we hope against hope that Prince Carl Philip will return to us soon.”

______________________________________________________________

“Prince Carl Philip was out celebrating his third wedding anniversary at the Villa Solbacken.

This news comes as a number of other royals have disappeared throughout Europe. Queen Letizia of Spain went missing three months ago. Today marks the one year anniversary since Prince Amedeo of Belgium also went missing. It’s been two and a half years since Queen Ariel of Cordonia vanished into thin air. Should the rest of Europe be worried?

Royalists like to think so. However, we cannot jump to conclusions.

Please remember that if you have seen or heard anything about Prince Carl Philip, let the royal press office know on the number on the screen.

Until then, I’m Kerri Constance, goodnight.”

“Seriously, Liam? You’re watching this shit?” Drake says as he arches his eyebrow at his best friend.

Liam gives Drake an exasperated scowl, his eyes still trained on the screen.

“No, Drake. I’m not watching this shit for fun. I’m watching it for a reason. The Prince of Sweden has gone missing.”

Drake’s eyes widen as he settles beside the king in the palace drawing room. The TV was blaring the six o’clock news, the anchors eagerly jumping on the story of the newest missing royal.

Liam stares intently at the screen and Drake just watches him for a minute, seeing the cogs turning in his mind. He was thinking and Drake liked to think that Ariel was on his mind. After all, why wouldn’t it be?

“They have been running this story all day. They’ve mentioned Ariel’s case a few times already.”

Drake nods as he leans forward in his seat, as he glances up at the TV listening to the anchorwoman talk about the missing prince and other royals that have been vanishing over the last few months.

“Have other royals been disappearing too?” Drake inquires.

Liam nods as he leans back against the couch, ticking off all the missing people on his fingers.

“They have. The Crown Prince of Denmark, Queen Letizia of Spain, the Belgian Prince, and Princess Marguerite of Monaco. She was at a summit for international relations with country leaders at the Royal Palace there. She went to freshen up, never came back. They’re . . . understandably upset over there.”

Damn! That many royals missing over a few months? And all of them in Europe?

That put a bad taste in Drake’s mouth.

Something didn’t feel right.

“Have you had any luck with the prisoners?”

Liam finally tears his eyes away from the television to give Drake his undivided attention. An actual smile seems to play on his lips, although faint.

“Yes. Under careful interrogation by Bastien and his men, they have managed to uncover plots that they were going to implement if the kidnapping was successful. One was using past indiscretions against us to blackmail into abdicating. They also got some information about some offshore accounts. Bastien did some digging and all of these link to many places in Europe and America.”

Drake nods, their American contact's words straying back into his mind. Nazario was his name, was it not? He’d be valuable in the future.

Liam sighs, his expression grave.

“I have a feeling that The Sons Of Earth have been funded by these people. And it seems like they are pretty powerful people considering that none of the money has been found anywhere else. Anton was sneaky. He went undetected for months as Ariel’s press secretary...so I wouldn’t put it past him to somehow get away with this.”

Liam glances down at the paper in his lap, fingering it for a few beats before he hands it over to Drake.

“What’s this?” Drake asks, his furrowing his eyebrows in concentration, the deciphering of the code now at play.

“A note I found in the pocket of my wedding tux.”

Drake’s eyes widen as he stares at Liam, then glance down at the note again. “What? How did it get in there? It’s been nearly three years since your wedding.”

Liam shrugs, exhaling heavily. “I have no idea. Ariel seems to have had everything under control even before she left. My guess is it’s a code or something.”

Drake glances at the note. The letters swam before his eyes almost teasingly, beckoning him to come and decipher them. But after a few minutes, the only thing he’d gleaned was that it was a sentence of some sort. What a pity that was.

Drake leans forward on the couch as his mind runs, his mind latching onto some information he gathered when flitting through a Cordonian history book during one of his many journeys through the palace when a ball was underway. “I swear it was in a book...but I remember you mentioning something when we were kids...when that warrior Queen that founded the five kingdoms would use ciphers and hidden messages to send her allies details of where she was when she was in exile? Could this be something like that?”

At Drake’s words, Liam freezes, his back straightening in firm realization.

“Drake,” is all he says, the word pushed out like the dying breath of a man gasping for air.

Drake’s heart beats heavily, his stomach twisting in concern for his friend. Liam hadn’t stopped staring at him for a good two minutes.

“Uh...yes, Liam?”

Without a word, Liam snatches the cipher from Drake’s palm and stands up, charging out the door and stumbling into the main atrium.

“Liam, where are you going?”

Liam glances back at Drake, his eyes alight with the determination he saw only a few weeks ago when they were all gathered in his office.

Liam smiles. “I’m going to Regina to get this cipher figured out. She has experience with these. She had to decipher some letters my father would get in the mail. And then…”

“And then... what?” Drake says, Liam’s animated state disconcerting as his actions were almost robotic in nature.

“And then we find Ariel.”

Liam doesn’t say another word and continues on his way, Drake following after him at a brisk jog, still trying to catch the man’s attention.

“Liam...wait! Are you sure this is the right way to go?”

Liam glances behind his shoulder, addressing his friend as he takes the gilded steps up to the third floor two at a time.

“Of course I am, Drake. Just have a gut feeling that’s all. I have no indication how long this,” Liam pauses, raising the folded piece of parchment up in the air. “...has been sitting in my jacket for. For all I know, it was there the whole time and I was too dense to notice it! It was right in front of my eyes this whole time!”

Liam takes a deep breath, his pulse rising in anger, his fists clenching beside him. He was angry. Angry at himself for being so consumed by his pain that he didn’t see the little details. At Ariel for sending him on this wild goose chase. At this whole situation. He should be living happily ever after with Ariel and here he was trying desperately to hold on to anything that could give him that.

Add that to the fact that European royals are going missing and, deep down, Liam had no idea what was happening.

How could he be so foolish? How could he be so blind, so overcome by his pain that he couldn’t look at his wedding tux until nearly three years later? What kind of lurid joke was this? Had Ariel intentionally put that there? Would she be angry at him that he had taken nearly three years to find it?

Liam sighs as he glances at Drake.

“What else can I do? Bastien has spent the last two weeks interrogating the captured prisoners. This may be the last bit of evidence we have. It could be what breaks the case and we have a solid lead.”

Drake stares at his closest friend and his heart tightens as he sees the light he saw earlier faltering in those blue eyes.

He couldn’t see his friend falling back into those old, destructive patterns again.

Drake sighs, nodding in resignation.

“Okay, let’s do this. Whatever answers we get from Regina - I’m with you all the way.”

Liam’s mouth lifts up in a winsome smile as his hand comes to Drake’s shoulder as he tightens his hold in gratitude. “Thank you, Drake.”

Drake shrugs. “All good.”

Liam chuckles at his friend's noncommittal answer as he knocks on the door three times. The pounding in his ears grows louder by the second until it’s replaced by another noise - the pattering of feet behind the door. A voice calls out, and Liam answers as he steps through the door.

“Regina? It’s Liam.”

Regina glances up and her grey eyes slightly widen as she catches the sight of both of them, disheveled from their trek up the stairs, Liam still slightly breathless.

“Liam? What is the matter? Is there something you wish to discuss with me?”

Liam nods. “Yes, there is Regina.”

Liam lifts the paper, Regina giving it the careful appraising look she was so famous for. “What is that?”

Liam takes a seat in front of Regina and passes over the note with the incomprehensible jumble of letters written on it. Regina stares at it, before opening what was given to her, her fingers almost hesitant as she does so.

Liam stares at his step-mother with intensely, his eyes scanning her face for any twitch or change in expression.

So, when he sees her eyes widen and a gasp escapes her lips, panic sets in. “What? What is it, Regina?”

Regina glances up at him, her eyes wide with shock. “Liam…”

Liam grits his teeth as he says, “What is it, Regina? Did you decipher it?”

It surprised Liam that it only took Regina a few minutes to read the cipher, but he shouldn’t be so surprised about that considering that she did it for his father all the time. He still kicked himself for not studying them in greater detail.

Regina sighs as she gestures in vain towards the letter in a futile attempt to explain its meaning.

“This cipher isn’t complex in the least but what it says is rather direct.”

Liam gives Regina a pleading look. “And does it entail exactly?”

Regina sighs, raising her gaze to his, her words blunt and piercing.

“It says the answers you seek are in Moscow. Ariel left to protect you. But from what?” Regina shrugs, as she shakes her head. “I’m not quite sure. But, I’m guessing it’s something big if it entails her leaving you and Cordonia behind.”

“Could the Sons of Earth be more involved in Ariel’s disappearance than we first thought?”

“As much as I don’t want to believe it -- I think they are. If we find the answers in Moscow…maybe the real reason that Ariel left may be revealed.”

Liam groans as he stands and runs his hands through his hair again, the frustration settling back into his shoulders.

He finally turns to Regina for a faint smile.

“Thank you so much, Regina. I will keep you updated on what we do next. You have helped me out immensely.”

Regina smiles and then turns back to the book she was reading, a quiet signal that the conversation was over.

Drake follows Liam out of the room, his voice ringing a little too loudly for his liking in the deserted palace halls.

“Liam. What do we do now?”

Liam glances to Drake, his eyes set in steely resolve, his jaw set.

“I’m not wasting any more time. We are going to Moscow. Tonight.”

#liam x mc #the royal romance #royal romance fanfiction #king liam x mc #trr #trr choices #choices trr #trr fanfic #choices fanfiction #mc x liam #trr fanfiction #aworldoffandoms

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hello-beachridersdubai · 3 years

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How to select the best Dubai Marina boat ride

Endearing a boat trip in Dubai is one of the most extraordinary approaches to appreciate the city and explore the lovely emerald waters of the Arabian Peninsula.

As a beachfront city, Dubai contains pretty much every kind of gliding vessel under the sun. You can find anything from extravagant yachts to fishing dhows. With such countless various types of boats to look over, it tends to be hard to conclude which is the best Dubai Marina boat ride to go on.

There are a couple of things to contemplate before you book a boat trip. First, during your vacation in Dubai, you would prefer not to squander your restricted free time on a baffling encounter. To assist you with picking a boat ride, this guide gives a few hints on what to consider before booking a boat trip to Dubai Marina.

Sort Of Boat

When you know where you need to go on a boat visit, the following stage is settling on the kind of boat you are keen on. Boat trips in Dubai will, in general, be in one of three classes:

Self-Drive Boats

Passenger Boats

Yachts

Pick The Location

The area of a boat trip in Dubai is one of the main components to consider before picking a visit. There are a few famous areas for boat trips in Dubai, and understanding the distinctions can make it a lot simpler to choose which one to go on.

The most widely recognized areas for boat visits trips in Dubai are:

Dubai Coastline

Dubai Marina

Dubai Creek

Dubai Marina

The Dubai Marina is roughly 25 minutes west of Downtown, close to the base of The Palm Jumeirah. Many individuals envision the Marina as an assortment of docks and vessels; however, it is a private area loaded up with tall structures and skyscraper cafés that encompass a comprehensive water channel.

The speed restriction for vessels in the Marina is roughly 8 miles per hour, so the boat visits that work inside it will generally be relaxation travels on yachts or shows. These visits, as a rule, start in the Marina before going to regular touring spots like Atlantis and Burj Al Arab.

Choose this alternative if you are searching for a slower boat journey imparted to others. It is a decent method to see the Dubai Marina and a portion of Dubai's different milestones, yet ensure you check the course as a portion of these boat visits do not visit the wide range of various renowned sights like Burj Al Arab.

Cost/Time/Value

A few organizations attempt to advertise their visits dependent on the time spent on the water; however, realize that time on the water does not generally correlate with value. On the off chance that the boat is overpacked and overrated, additional time spent onboard does not make it great.

Remember that organizations that work in waterways with low-speed cut-off points can invest a ton of energy simply getting onto the vast water. Once in open water, considerably additional time can be squandered, essentially getting started with one area then onto the next.

Other than the time spent on the water, consider different advantages that a visit can offer regardless of whether it legitimizes the cost. Things like dinners and the number of areas visited ought to have proper consideration.

What is the best Dubai Marina boat ride?

As should be obvious, there are many exciting points while looking for the ideal boat visit. Unfortunately, having so many choices to browse can be very overpowering, yet following these tips will make tracking down the best boat trip in Dubai a lot simpler.

If you are searching for a unique drifting experience, where you can drive your boat, see the well-known sights, arrive at speeds up to 50km/h and have a sense of security, do contact Beach Riders Dubai. They desire to see you on their Sundance 36, Azimut 42 FT Delta Diamond, Majesty 44 FT Super Class Luxury and various other well-maintained yachts. So contact them at +971 588 224 410 to rent one of their yachts at Dubai Marina.

#boat ride

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gulfcraftinc · 2 years

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Gulf Craft, a global brand recognised for its innovation in yacht and boat building, continues to make its mark in the field of composite-built superyachts as it unveiled production plans for the company's second largest superyacht – the brand-new Majesty 160 – at the Monaco Yacht Show.

Celebrating its 40th anniversary this year, Gulf Craft which is the world’s leader in composite hull production and the creator of the world’s largest composite-built production superyacht, the Majesty 175, revealed the first details of its brand-new luxury Superyacht at a packed press event hosted onboard the Majesty 120.

Unveiling the details of the brand-new Majesty 160 superyacht, Gulf Craft’s Chairman Mohammed Hussein AlShaali said: “The Majesty 160 is an evolution of our Majesty 155, and follows the new design precedent of our Majesty line-up which was introduced earlier this year with the Majesty 111 at Dubai International Boat Show. The Majesty 160 will be our second largest vessel and will be a class-apart in its segment, catering to the needs and requirements of customers through its exceptional design, architecture, and state-of-the-art engineering and technological features.”

“Our ongoing expansion plans, extensive global dealer network, and a distinct product portfolio have seen us build a strong foothold in international markets, especially in Europe and the United States, where we have witnessed a demand for larger lightweight yachts which provide competitive fuel economy and easy access to shallow waters. We have listened to our customers and have created the Majesty 160 which reinstates our position as the world’s leader in composite hull production.”

The Majesty 160 which goes into production this year at Gulf Craft’s fully integrated state-of-the-art manufacturing facility in the UAE, is designed by the award-winning Cristiano Gatto Design Studio in Italy whilst the naval architecture is penned by the world-renowned Van Oosennen Dutch Naval Architects. Built to the specifications outlined by the Bureau Veritas Commercial Yacht Rules for yachts under 500 gross tonnage (GT), the Majesty 160 has a gross tonnage of 498 meeting all safety requirements of a vessel of 500 GT.

Taking its design cues from the iconic Majesty 175, the brand-new superyacht’s interior and exterior has been carefully designed with immaculate attention to detail to create a seamless balance between the outdoor and indoor spaces.

Redefining the segment through its opulent and contemporary interiors, the Majesty 160’s most notable feature is the phenomenal Master Suite. Ideally located at the end of the foreward main deck corridor, the suite includes a private lounge, retractable balcony, a large ensuite with both bath and shower room, along with a full-beam Master cabin.

The smart layout has an innovative climate control system and accommodates up to 12 guests across its seven lavish staterooms, and can also host a crew of up to nine members with five large crew cabins and private captain’s accommodation.

The Majesty 160’s smart exterior design features an incredibly expansive sun deck with modular and moveable furniture suitable for all types of social occasions along with an infinity pool, perfectly set up for incredible panoramic and elevated views. Stand-out features also include a beach club - a customisable multi-purpose space with natural light that can be used as a lounge or bar area, a gym, or a health club making it an ideal place to relax after a long day of water activities. The swim platform provides guests unprecedented ease of access to the water while the fold-down balconies located on both the portside and starboard side of the platform allow for sunbathing throughout the day.

Combining the hull design and the Superyachts technical prowess with twin MTU 16V 2000 M87, 2000 HP engines, the Majesty 160 is capable of achieving a top speed of 19.5 knots* whilst at a cruising speed of 12 knots she has a range of 3,500 nautical miles* and a further extended range of 4,300 nautical miles* at 10.8 knots.

Featuring wing stations on the main deck that enables smooth maneuvering in and out of tight marinas and ports along with an optional helm station located on the sun deck, the Majesty 160 can effortlessly cruise low-draft areas, drawing just 2.3 metres of water, enabling close beach access due to its ground-breaking engineering and use of lightweight yet sturdy composite material hull.

The Majesty 160 comes with two pairs of zero-speed carbon fin stabilisers and twin 100 kW generators including solar panels at the top of the sun deck roof capable of powering one of the four generators - limiting overall energy consumption.

Visit us at Gulf Craft Stand and register here to get an exclusive walk-through tour of the Majesty 120 (E07) & Majesty 100 (C25) – Port Hercules, Monaco.

#yacht #yachts #yachts for sale #luxury boat #Superyachts #Majesty Super Yachts #Superyacht Price #Monaco Yacht Show #Yacht Show #Boat Show 2022 #Monaco Yacht Show 2022

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aion-rsa · 3 years

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Tenet Is Christopher Nolan’s Unofficial James Bond Movie

https://ift.tt/3xRimZi

This article contains Tenet spoilers.

Throughout the Daniel Craig era of James Bond, the influence of Christopher Nolan has been hard to miss. A year after Nolan reinvented Dark Knight mythology with Batman Begins, and created the industry term of a “reboot” in the process, 007 had his own back-to-basics reset in Casino Royale. And following The Dark Knight’s praise for reconfiguring its iconography again for a post-War on Terror world, Skyfall would receive similar acclaim a few years later for its chilly, realpolitik tone.

But no matter how many developments in the Bond canon end up attributed to Nolan’s influence, it should be recognized that Bond influenced him first. That fact is almost inescapable after watching Tenet, which just premiered on HBO Max. It’s the filmmaker’s latest time-bending thriller, and the one that most resembles a 007 flick. With its smoothly dressed secret agent hero, its allusions to British intelligence, and its plot about a megalomaniacal Russian seeking to destroy the world, it’s a wonder John David Washington never once drained a dry martini.

More than any of the films before it, Tenet crystallizes that Nolan has always been chasing James Bond. And with this new film, the Memento director finally went ahead and remade that character in his coolly nonlinear image.

For more than a decade, the 50-year-old filmmaker has not been shy about his admiration for the Bond movies that captured his imagination as a child. At the 2010 London premiere of Inception, he even celebrated the similarities between his work and the Bond oeuvre.

“The Bond influence on the film was very intentional because, for me growing up with the Bond films, they’ve always stood for grand scale action,” Nolan said (via BBC). Those early 007 films from his youth, starring Sean Connery, George Lazenby, and Roger Moore, all “stood for the promise of being taken some place bigger than you could have imagined.” In an Empire print interview from the same year, he confessed, “I’ve been plundering ruthlessly from the Bond movies in everything I’ve done, forever. They’re a huge influence on me.”

And you can see it in every action film he’s made since 2005, beginning with the groundbreaking Batman Begins. While his origin story for the Dark Knight might have influenced how grounded Bond producers took their own 007 reboot less than 18 months later, the Bond influence on Nolan’s vision of Batman was there from the outset. It’s even in one of the key appeals of all three of Nolan’s Batman movies: his desire to open Bruce Wayne’s world up and depict him as a jetsetting crusader living in a larger global community, as opposed to in a contained Never Never Land version of Gotham City. The desire to show exotic locales like Iceland (doubling as the Himalayas) and Hong Kong visibly came from Eon Productions’ depiction of Bond as an adventurer always on the move.

More specifically, Nolan’s reinvention of the Lucius Fox character (played by Morgan Freeman) was modeled wholly after Desmond Llewelyn’s Q, the gadget-making quartermaster and occasional sidekick of 007 across nearly 40 years of Bond movies. Similarly, the focus on the chic habits and hobbies of the ultra-rich in those films (and many others of Nolan’s films, actually) likewise stems from 007.

As the Batman sequels continued to heighten the tension throughout The Dark Knight Trilogy, the influences of Bond also became only more pronounced. With each new film, the villain of the piece got a table-setting prologue action sequence that acted in a similar fashion to Bond movies’ famed pre-title sequences, and Bane’s aerial hijacking of a CIA plane over Scotland in The Dark Knight Rises is particularly a much more sophisticated riff on the same concept that starts License to Kill (1989).

Similarly, Batman kidnaps a Chinese national out of Hong Kong in The Dark Knight by holding onto him as an airplane grabs a cable tethered between the superhero’s back and a balloon floating in the sky—thereby yanking both into the air. Lucius Fox says he got the idea from “a program the CIA had back in the ‘60s called Skyhook.” And it’s true, that program existed, but Nolan almost certainly got the idea from the 1965 Bond movie, Thunderball, where Sean Connery and Claudine Auger (or at least their stunt dummies) are yanked out of the Caribbean and into the wide blue yonder.

Even the third act twist of The Dark Knight Rises, where it’s revealed that Tom Hardy’s dastardly Bane is actually subservient to (and in love with?) the woman Bruce thought he cared for is taken more or less from the underrated Pierce Brosnan Bond film, The World Is Not Enough (1999).

Eleven years ago, Inception was simply more brazen about these lifts, with its finely tailored heroes never needing to don superhero threads, and with a third act in large part focused on a ski and snowmobile raid of a fortress taken right out of On Her Majesty’s Secret Service (1969), which Nolan just happened to call his favorite Bond film. At the time of Inception’s release, he also called the dream-based actioner “absolutely my Bond movie.”

Nevertheless, with Inception’s structure being more derived from heist thrillers than spy movies, and its hero being a family man haunted by past mistakes instead of an international man of mystery, the filmmaker’s thoughts on that being “my Bond movie” have softened over the years. In 2017, he told Playboy (via Business Insider) that he’d “definitely” consider doing a Bond movie one day.

One might assume Tenet is that movie, or as close to it as possible.

In both Nolan’s Batman movies and Inception, the filmmaker grafted Bond inspirations onto the existing structures of superhero lore and heist movie conventions. Yet with Tenet, Nolan finally embraces the spy movie’s form… while still situating those conventions within his own distinct obsessions and narrative sleights of hand.

Excluding the most recent Bond movies starring Craig, the 007 of the screen has always been defined by his impenetrable ambiguity. Connery’s Bond never talked about his childhood or parents, Moore’s Bond never had any lingering attachments to friends or lovers beyond the current adventure he was already in, and the only acquaintances in their lives were work colleagues like Q, M, Miss Moneypenny, and poor hapless Felix Leiter from the CIA. With two notable exceptions, we never even saw the inside of Bond’s flat for the first 50 years of cinematic exploits.

Tenet thus takes that idea of a mysterious presence as the lead character to its extreme. Washington’s protagonist is even rather cloyingly named just that: the Protagonist. He has no family, friends, backstory, or even 007’s defining vices of vodka and sex. All we know is the Protagonist came up through the CIA before being recruited into the Tenet organization, and he doesn’t like it when colleagues are killed—well, that and he’s more inclined to drink a Diet Coke than a martini.

Still, he nestles into 007’s world neatly throughout the film. When he’s scolded by a marvelous Michael Caine for wearing a Brooks Brothers suit to a meeting at a London club so snooty that you’re chided for not addressing your betters by their titles, the Protagonist quips, “You British don’t have a monopoly on snobbery, you know.”

“Well not a monopoly,” Sir Michael smirks. “More of a controlling interest.”

In essence, Washington’s Protagonist is an interloper infiltrating the rich and privileged world most 007 actors are depicted as walking through as if it were their birthright. While there was a roughness around the edges to Connery’s original (and best) Bond, the character’s smirk implies he was born with the silver spoon, only no one realized it until he took it out of some other less deserving aristocrat’s mouth.

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We likewise see Washington slowly assume that identity throughout Tenet, intentionally irritating the stuffiness of Sir Michael’s club, or joking about hot sauce in a high-end restaurant frequented by billionaires. Nonetheless, he assumes all the Bond airs smoothly and with minimal effort as the film progresses. After Michael’s condescension about his suit, the next time we see the Protagonist he’s wearing a tailored three-piece gray number which doesn’t look that far removed from Connery in Goldfinger.

And when he sits down to match wits with the film’s villain, a man named Sator (Kenneth Branagh), he Protagonist acts like Connery: a fella who claimed the privilege that was mistakenly denied at his birth. When the Protagonist is asked if he’s slept with the villain’s wife, the way he so subtly smirks while saying, “No. Not yet,” would do Connery proud.

But then Sator, perhaps even more so than the Protagonist, is what makes Tenet a near full-on Bond movie. Following in the grand tradition of British actors adopting bad Russian accents to play heavies, Branagh’s Sator lives the life of a super-evil megalomaniac on his yachts and high on his vices.

Those trapping may be more sophisticated than the Bond movies’ often comic book-level depictions of wealth and power—hollowed out volcanoes and swimming pools filled with sharks—but for all of Sator’s musings about the paintings of Goya and Freeport tax havens, or the F50 foiling catamaran sailboats he flaunts in front of the Protagonist, he’s still a Bond villain who wants to conquer/destroy the world. In his case, it’s because of the complicated science fiction methods of a future generation wanting to wipe us out. Still, Sator’s function is all so much fodder for a third act monologue.

Where this becomes most apparent is his relationship with his wife Katharine (Elizabeth Debicki). A woman trapped in a toxic abusive marriage by literal blackmail, Debicki’s Kat is intended to be more developed than a typical Bond girl (not to mention many of the leading roles for women in Nolan movies). We see her twisted relationship with Sator strictly from her point-of-view as a mother living under duress, with her husband threatening to send her to prison if she ever attempts to leave with their son. In fact, he twists the knife further by saying he’d only allow her to leave if he kept the child he doesn’t even care about.

However, the Protagonist trying to get to the supervillain through the manipulation of his lover is Bond movie plotting 101. The Dark Knight might’ve borrowed the Skyhook concept from Thunderball, but Tenet lifts the central romantic triangle conflict in total, with the hero pressuring a woman to spy on and undermine a villain who’s essentially middle management for the bigger threat (SPECTRE in Thunderball, vengeful future generations in Tenet).

There’s more complexity to Kat than Thunderball’s Domino, and she nor the Protagonist need a romantic rendezvous under the sea for her to turn. She’s already ready to do that long before the Protagonist shows up. However, she is still, at least in one scene, the damsel in distress who must be saved, and the woman who’s also tortured and beaten by the man who keeps her under constant surveillance.

At least, also like Domino, Kat gets to kill the villain by shooting him on a yacht. Kat’s victory over Sator is more satisfying, too, since she does it to quench her own thirst for revenge and not to save the hero.

“I’m not the woman who could find love for you even though you scarred her on the inside,” she says, drawing the gun. “I’m the vengeful bitch you scarred on the outside.”

For all of Tenet’s confusing misdirections and head-spinning discussions about introverted entropies, paradoxes, and parallel worlds, it is in essence a spy thriller right out of the 007 template. But does that make it better or worse? The answer might be somewhere in the middle.

Like all of Nolan’s spectacle films, there is something to be said about Tenet’s fidelity to in-camera stunts and action. Nolan’s seen enough Bond movies over the decades to know the images that stay with you and hold up many years later are the ones where actors (or stuntpeople) are doing it for real. So original death-defying imagery, such as when the Protagonist and Neil (Robert Pattinson) bungee jump upwards and above a Mumbai high-rise, or a third act climax in which filmmakers simultaneously shoot vehicles moving forward and backward, is thrilling stuff. (The movie finishing in a third act siege is also taken from Thunderball and numerous other Bond movies, by the by.)

But personally, one of the greater appeals about Bond movies is their unapologetic desire to have fun. With few exceptions, the atmosphere is relatively lighthearted in each 007 adventure, or at least playful. Tenet, like all of Nolan’s films, has a somber earnestness about it, which makes the slipperiness of its protagonist harder to hang onto, and the motivations of its villain less credible in a story about our descendants trying to wipe us out over climate change.

In many ways, Tenet is denser and less mischievous than any of Nolan’s brooding Batman efforts or Inception, which is a picture where the central protagonist is a grieving widower. It’s one of the reasons, I suspect, Tenet has left a lot of viewers cold. So if this really is the closest Nolan ever gets to doing a 007 movie, maybe it’s for the best.

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duhragonball · 7 years

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[FIC] Luffa: The Legendary Super Saiyan (79/?)

Disclaimer: This story features characters and concepts based on Dragon Ball, which is a trademark of Bird Studio/Shueisha and Toei Animation. This is an unauthorized work, and no profit is being made on this work by me. This story is copyright of me. Download if you like, but please don’t archive it without my permission. Don’t be shy.

Continuity Note: About 1000 years before the events of Dragon Ball Z.

Previous chapters conveniently available here.

[6 May 234 Before Age. Planet Saiya.]

Most of Planet Saiya was a desolate place. Only twenty percent of its surface was covered by ocean, and most of the land was serpentine barrens with strips of vegetation clinging desperately to any and all rivers and lakes.

None of this was any surprise to Luffa, since the Saiyans were a hardy species, capable of thriving in harsh environments where most species would struggle to survive. And Saiyans tended to see their homes as temporary bases anyway, little more than a place to sleep between battles. The nice thing about a wasteland was that you didn't have to maintain it, or protect it from opportunistic raiders. The Saiyans could fight and train in the wilderness without a care, or even abandon the planet for large scale operations that required the whole population. The place was a dump, and they could be assured it would still be a dump when they returned.

And yet, the sensor sweep Luffa ran on the planet showed remarkable levels of development. There were irrigation canals big enough to be visible from orbit, and grids of farmland dotting the land just beyond the coastal regions. There were small towns, the largest of which were ringed with fairly modern spaceports. Most impressive of all was a citadel in the middle of a desert. There were no roads leading to it; since every Saiyan learned to fly in early childhood, there was no need for vehicles.

Accordingly, Luff brought the star yacht down several hundred miles from the citadel.

"Are you expecting an attack?" Zatte asked as they waited for the hatch to open.

"The ship's landing gear can handle most terrain," Luffa said. "And I'm not in the mood to horse around with customs officials in any of the spaceports."

They stepped outside into the hot dry air and Luffa took in their surroundings. A lizard scurried by, and she took aim with her finger and killed it with a burst of ki energy.

"Besides," she said as she walked over to pick up the carcass. "It's a nice day. Might as well fly under my own power."

Zatte took a step off the ramp and stumbled. Unable to maintain her balance, she let herself drop, and hit the ground with a thud.

"Careful," Luffa said. "The gravity here is stronger than what you're used to. Nine or ten times the standard setting on the ship.

Zatte slowly got to her knees, and carefully planted on of her feet on the ground. "I don't think..." she said between grunts of effort, "that I can stand this... for too long."

Luffa put the dead lizard in her mouth and hauled Zatte up to a standing position. Once she was satisfied that Zatte was balanced properly, she steadied her with one hand and held the lizard with the other.

"You'll be okay," Luffa said as she bit off the animal's head. "You're in no shape to fight like this, but your body's handling the extra weight just fine. A year ago, you barely would have been able to move. You've come a long way, Zattie."

"Maybe so, but I don't think I'll be able to go much further like this," she said.

"I'll carry you to the citadel," Luffa said. "It's probably got artificial gravity fields to accommodate weaker aliens."

"'Probably?'"

There was a wet crunching sound as Luffa chewed the lizard's remains. "He's put a lot of work into this place, like he's trying to turn it into a modern planetary settlement. Stands to reason he expects aliens to drop in now and then, so he'd have the same tech to make then comfortable as any other high-G world."

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Zatte said.

"I just don't see the point of setting up a Saiyan planet like this if you're just going to turn around and invite a bunch of aliens over," Luffa said. "Either keep to yourselves or just do your business on a lighter planet."

"You think all this is a front?" Zatte asked. "They didn't even grant us permission to land. Seems a little too trusting and friendly to me."

"Or just confident," Luffa said. "They're basically daring their enemies to land here and start trouble. If a whole planet full of Saiyans couldn't defend themselves, they'd be too ashamed to ask for passports or ship registrations."

She stuffed the rest of the lizard's tail into her mouth and put her arm around Zatte's waist. "Enough sightseeing," she said. "Let's move out."

Zatte nodded, and Luffa took off, flying into the western horizon.

********

As Luffa predicted, the citadel was equipped with devices to offset the planet's natural gravity. However, the citadel was not completely without hazards.

"Afternoon, ladies," said a large Saiyan man they encountered while walking through the street. His shadow was broad enough to cover them both.

"Uh, hi," Zatte said.

"You aren't from around here," he said after looking them over.

"I'm here to see Rehval," Luffa said bruquely.

"Courtesans, huh?" he said with an ugly, thoughtless smile. "Well, it just so happens I'm on the welcoming committee. Let me give you some advice."

Zatte stepped closer to Luffa and began glancing from side to side. Luffa locked eyes with the man and smirked at him. "Anything you can tell me about Rehval," she said slowly, "would be very helpful."

Something about her tone startled him for a moment, but he quickly regained his composure. "Got a lot of spunk in you, huh? Well that's great. Okay, chippie, I'll tell you everything you need to know."

"What about your friends?" Luffa said. "I'd like to hear what they have to say."

He frowned at this, apparently upset that she had noticed his companions. He raised his hand, and six more Saiyans appeared on the street. Two leaped down from tall buildings on either side of the street, one rounded the corner, and three more exited various shops.

"How'd she spot us?" one of them asked.

"A thirsty sand-bison can smell water a hundred miles away," said another. "Is that it, girlie? Are you thirsty?"

Luffa looked back at him for a moment, then back to their leader. "You were going to tell me about Rehval," she said.

The big man harrumphed and crossed his arms. "It's King Rehval, first of all. You might drive a lot of men wild copping an attitude, but His Majesty won't tolerate disrespect."

"Is that right?" Luffa said. She stared into his beady eyes and flashed a predatory smile. "He likes them meek and submissive, does he?"

"Y-yeah!" the big man said, struggling to maintain his confidence. "And the clothes are all wrong! Where'd you even find those baggy yellow pants, anyway?"

The others laughed and jeered. Luffa shrugged.

"It's kind of my signature look," she said. "You think he won't like it?"

"Of course not!" cried one of the other Saiyans. "His Majesty's banner is blue! At least your alien friend's got the right idea."

"Except her skin's blue, and her clothes are grey," another one piped in.

"No problem!" laughed another. "If she wants to show respect to His Majesty, all she's gotta do is strip down!"

That got a laugh from all of them. Luffa wasn't smiling anymore.

"I really don't think you should--" Zatte tried to say.

"What's your story, blue girl?" the big man asked. "Did your last boyfriend play too rough? Is that what happened to your eye? I don't know if His Majesty will accept damaged goods, but we will."

"Yeah!" one of the others called. "If you're looking for someone gentle, you came to the wrong planet, sweetheart! King Rehval's the strongest Saiyan in the world!"

"Not anymore," Luffa said darkly. "I’m here now.."

They all laughed. "You!" the big man scoffed. "That's some sense of humor you've got there, sister! I don't know if King Rehval likes funny women, but I do. At least, if they've got the right figure."

"You want to try me?" Luffa said. "Let's go. Right here and now. I'm always in the mood."

"Yeah!" cheered one of the others. "Get her!"

"Show her who's boss!"

"Warm her up for King Rehval!"

The big man smiled at first, but hesitated. "Uh... I don't know," he said. "Maybe one of you should work her over a little, give me a chance to see if she's my type."

No one accepted his offer. Luffa smiled and turned her back to him.

"You heard the man," she said to his cronies. "He can't handle me alone. One of you boys will have to step up. Maybe all of you? Well, I'm game."

She held out her hand and wagged her fingers to beckon them forward. No one moved.

"Aw, don't be shy," Luffa said. She turned back to face the big man. "I guess you're on your own."

"Now h-hold on," he stammered.

"Who's going to teach me how to be meek and submissive?" Luffa asked in a saccharine tone. "Or maybe you'd like to bed Rehval. You seem to be his type."

"I don't want..." the big man tried to say. "I mean, we were just... just kidding around, heh-heh."

One of the men behind Luffa took a step backward. Without looking back, Luffa swung her arm out and pointed at him. The whole group cried out in thiny veiled terror. "Running won't save you," she said. "But feel free to give it a try. I'll just hunt you down one at a time."

"P-please," the big man said. "Don't--!"

"You don't want any trouble? Too bad. You're already in a fight, you clod. I'm just giving you and your goons a free shot."

She looked around at them all. "So who's first?" she asked. "If you don't want to fight back, I understand. But if you don't resist, I'll just destroy this entire planet."

Now Zatte was pleading for restraint. "Luffa, we just got here," she said.

Luffa snorted. "Too bad. I guess Rehval should have chosen a better welcoming committee."

"Enough."

A man floated down from the sky and alighted at the end of the street. Luffa turned to glance at him, while the other Saiyans gasped with shock. As he approached, the big man and his friends all lowered themselves to one knee and placed their fists over their hearts in obeisance.

"You are Luffa, I presume?" he said cordially. "I tracked your flight into the citadel."

Luffa eyed him skeptically. "Who wants to know?" she asked.

"Now you've had it," one of the Saiyans muttered under his breath. "You might be hot stuff, but the King will teach you some respect, you stuck up tw--"

His head exploded before he could finish speaking. Rehval had been extending his hand to Luffa, but then aimed it at the Saiyan and shot him with a concentrated burst of ki. The other six men trembled with dread.

"This woman is my guest," he announced.

"Forgive us, Sire!" the big man whimpered. "We didn't know--"

Rehval executed him in the same fashion. "Am I required to inform the public before conducting state business?" he asked patiently. "Well, answer me."

"N-no, Sire!" one of the remaining five cried.

"It would be safer," he said, "to assume that passers-by are under my protection."

"Yes, King Rehval!"

He looked at Luffa and softened his expression. "I apologize for this unpleasant incident," he said.

"I don't need protection from you," Luffa said. "I was about to have some fun with these boys before you came along."

"Of course," he said. "I meant no disrespect, Madam Federatrix. Normally, I'd spare a few to share the lesson they've just learned, but if it satisfies your honor, their lives are yours."

Luffa looked down at the five of them, then at the two headless corpses. "They're not worth my time," she said.

"You heard her," Rehval said. "Go. And take those bodies with you."

They hurried to do as he asked, nearly tripping over themselves as they scrambled to collect their dead friends and leave. Once they were gone, Rehval extended his hand to Luffa again.

"I regret this whole unfortunate episode," he said. "I had assumed you would contact the Foreign Minister before entering the city, or the Federation Embassy, or the Expatriate Office--"

"I go where I please, Rehval," Luffa said, pointing a thumb at her chest. "I accepted your invitation, but that doesn't mean I'm going to jump through your hoops."

"The error was mine," he said graciously. He looked at Zatte and smiled. "Perhaps we might start fresh. I am Rehval. King of the Planet Saiya."

"Zatte," she said carefully. "I'm Luffa's wife."

"Ah, I see," Rehval said. "Drang spoke of an aide, but she knew little in the way of details."

"I try to stay out of the spotlight, Your Majesty," Zatte replied. "My species prizes survival over publicity."

"Interesting," Rehval said. "I've met a wide variety of alien beings who have married Saiyans. I'd really like to learn more about yours."

"We'll see," Zatte said.

He looked back at Luffa and finally withdrew his hand. "I had planned a formal procession for your arrival, Luffa. If you wish to dispense with the pleasantries, then we might as well adjourn to my palace for dinner. Is this acceptable?"

Luffa turned her head and spat on the ground. "Let's get something straight, Rehval," she said. "We're not friends, and I think your title is a bad joke. If you think I'm going to start kneeling to you because you lay on a little charm, then you're dead wrong."

"Naturally," he said. "You are your mother's daughter, aren't you? So defiant, so proud. Yet, here you stand. And despite all your bluster, you haven't destroyed the entire planet, or strangled me with my own viscera, or crowned yourself as queen. Unless you were saving that for later?"

Luffa continued to glare at him.

"No? Then, I leave it up to you, Luffa. We needn't be friends, but you did accept my invitation, which means you did wish to speak with me. I may as well be a good host, and you may as well accept my hospitality, right?"

Luffa responded with the slightest of nods.

"Very good," Rehval said. "Then if you'll follow me, ladies..."

He floated into the air and waved for them to join him. A low growl rumbled from Luffa's throat as she flew after him, carrying Zatte in her arms.

*******

Rehval's palace consisted of the upper floors of the tower at the center of the citadel. The architecture in the dining hall was typical for the entire facility: sleek and modern, with lots of polished marble and dark stone arranged at right angles.

Zatte finished her meal first, partly because she had the smallest appetite, but mostly because Luffa and Rehval were talking more than eating. She watched them bicker with fascination.

In spite of what Luffa had said, she wasn't entirely unfriendly to Rehval. Zatte had noticed this trait among Saiyans, where they would converse with their foes quite pleasantly, even as they plotted their destruction. The Saiyans were so accustomed to dealing death that they seemed to take it in stride. Maybe Luffa and Rehval weren't friends, but it would have been difficult for an outsider to say for certain.

"An assassin," Luffa said with her mouth full. She cracked open a large bone and started digging out the marrow with a fork. "That's what this is all about? Someone's picking off Saiyans one by one, and you call it a crisis?"

"What would you call it?" Rehval asked. He scooped a piece of fish into his mouth and busily worked on cutting himself another bite. Zatte was rather impressed to see a Saiyan with such a command of table manners.

"I call it natural selection," Luffa grumbled. "Whoever this killer is, his victims were obviously too weak to defend themselves. Sooner or later, they would have met the same fate."

"You think they deserved to die?" Rehval asked pointedly. "Simply because they lacked the power to save themselves?"

"It's our way, isn't it?" Luffa replied. "Eventually, this assassin will bite off more than they can chew, and that'll be the end of it. In the meantime, anyone they manage to kill is no great loss."

"Would that include you?" Rehval asked.

"I don't plan on getting killed," Luffa said. "But yeah. If I'm dumb enough to let an enemy get the better of me, I deserve whatever happens. That goes for me, you, any Saiyan."

Zatte knew Luffa meant it. There had been a time when she and her family had abandoned their defense of the Dorlu Prime colony, but once Luffa returned and committed herself to protecting it, she fought to the bitter end... and beyond.

This, more than anything, was what fascinated Zatte about Saiyans in general, and Luffa in particular. Unlike the Dorluns, Luffa completely embraced death as a likely outcome of a great battle, and yet she managed to survive anyway. Just by watching her, Zatte could tell that Luffa was already thinking about what she would do if this assassin tried to target her.

"I can't fault your attitude, Luffa," Rehval said. "Many other Saiyans have told me they feel the same way. But you and I have to look at the bigger picture, don't we?"

"What bigger picture?" Luffa asked, making no effort to hide her annoyance.

"I mean the galaxy," he said. "As the ruler of the Saiyan homeworld, I have an interest in the welfare of all Saiyans, even the ones beyond my domain, who don't recognize my authority."

"Your concern is touching," Luffa said. She pointed a butterknife at her chest and added: "It gets me right here."

He chuckled. "I suppose you wouldn't believe me if I said I was worried about you. Then I'll put it in terms of self-interest. Think about how many Saiyans there are in the universe. Less than half are loyal to me, and fewer still actually live on this planet. The rest of them do as they please, and they don't answer to anyone. But I usually end up having to answer for them. A planet gets raided by a man with a furry tail, and they contact me, thinking he was acting on my orders. It gets irritating after a while."

"Sounds like a good reason to abdicate," Luffa said.

"That would only shift the blame to someone else," Rehval said. "My successor, or a usurper." He leaned in and raised an eyebrow as he stared at Luffa. "Maybe even you, eh, Madam Federatrix?"

Luffa wasn't impressed. "What do I care if I get blamed for a bunch of Saiyans causing trouble?" she asked. "Half the galaxy thinks I'm a fairy tale, and the other half thinks I'm a man."

"You care about your Federation Alliance, don't you?" Rehval asked. "Not even three years old, and already a rising galactic power. The average GDP for each member world has mo more doubled." He raised his glass in tribute. "You should be proud."

"Hah! You think any of that matters to me?" Luffa said.

"Right, you only forced the Federation members to work together so they would attract stronger enemies for you to fight," Rehval said. "To you, it's nothing more than a cosmic fishing net, but you still have to maintain it. If popular opinion turned against you, the Federation might splinter or collapse, wouldn't it?"

"Who knows?" Luffa asked as she leaned back in her chair. "And so what if you're right? I'd just move on."

"A mighty hunter roaming the stars," Rehval said with a smile. He looked to Zatte and said "I can see why you married her. She's quite the romantic."

Zatte chuckled nervously. She wasn't worried for her safety, but it was still difficult to read the situation. She had convinced Luffa to come here in order to determine Rehval's intentions, but the man was just as baffling in person as he was at a distance.

He noticed Luffa growing annoyed, so he turned his attention to her. "You can change locations," he said, " but I suspect your methods would be the same. If this Federation fails, you'll simply create a new one, or find some other way to attract worthy prey. But you'll still depend on others to help you for that," Rehval said. "You've grown so mighty and so great that you can't live like some ordinary Saiyan wanderer, plundering planets and finding new challenges in every direction."

Luffa looked up at the high ceiling of the hall. Painted on the surface was a mural of a Saiyan army engaged in a great battle with some monstrous creature. Zatte glanced up at it, but could only guess why it held Luffa's attention.

"Everyone keeps reminding me that I'm not normal," Luffa said. "But I wonder if it's the other way around." She looked back at Rehval and smiled in a very unfriendly way. "Maybe I'm the only true Saiyan, and you're the freaks."

"Then what?" Rehval asked, ignoring her slights as always. "Would you ignore us? Conquer us? Destroy us? Mentor us in your ways?"

Luffa's smile drooped slightly. "I haven't made up my mind," she said.

"Fair enough, but the problem is the same no matter what you decide. Your fate will still be bound with ours. Which is just a roundabout way of saying that our problems invariably become your problems. This assassin concerns us all."

"You want us to catch this guy, Your Majesty?" Zatte asked. She noticed Luffa's eyes would narrow whenever she addressed him this way, but Zatte didn't think it was wise to antagonize their host. Whatever his intentions, he had acted in good faith so far.

"I would ask for your help, yes," Rehval said. "At least fifty Saiyans have been found dead, all of them poisoned by some unknown toxin. I think it's reasonable to assume the killer is using stealth and misdirection to catch their victims off guard. At the very least, I want to warn as many Saiyans as I can about the problem. And Luffa can spread that warning to Saiyans who would trust her more than me."

"What about the victims?" Zatte asked. "Is there any pattern that might suggest a motive?"

"None," Rehval said as he sipped his drink. "I put my best investigators to work on it, and they've turned up nothing so far. The victims are from all walks of life. Men, women, nonbinary, from a wide range of ages and backgrounds. Some of them were royalists, others were dissidents like Luffa."

Zatte considered the problem for a moment. "What about the locations?" she asked. "If the killer's working their way along a particular route--"

"How do we know you aren't behind this, Rehval?" Luffa asked.

"I beg your pardon?" he said.

"Those soldiers you sent after us two years ago," she said. "Or had you forgotten?"

"Soldiers?" Rehval asked.

Luffa rose from her seat and planted her hands on the table, rising so quickly that she knocked over her chair. "Don't play dumb with us, Rehval. You didn't even try to cover your tracks that day. Ten Saiyan soldiers in royal blue uniforms, tracking us in a light cruiser like the ones used by the Saiyan Royal Navy?"

A worried look came over his face. "Oh no," he said in a low voice.

"Do you remember now?" Luffa seethed. "I killed them all, Rehval. They never stood a chance. I might have spared them just so they could tell you how badly it went, but I wasn't quite myself that day."

"And you think I authorized that mission," Rehval said. "And this whole time I've been... Oh, I apologize. I should have explained from the beginning--"

"Of course you authorized the mission!" Luffa shouted. She grabbed the edge of the table and tossed it across the hall like an empty package. "Don't try to pretend that this was some bureaucratic mix-up. My mother told me all about how you used to run this dump when she lived here! The way you suppressed dissent, forced everyone to live and train the way you wanted."

"Luffa, please let me--" Rehval tried to say, but she was too upset to listen.

"Nobody can scratch their tail on this planet without you knowing about it. I'm betting you sent that 'welcoming committee' to meet us, too, just to try and throw us off. So don't tell me you didn't authorize that mission, Rehval. Seems to me you like assassins just fine when they're doing your dirty work."

He took a deep breath and sighed. "You believe I was behind that, and the arrangement with Kandai as well..."

"That's a real cute word for it, Rehval," Luffa snarled. "'Arrangement.' Hah! I guess you don't remember that one either!"

"I am well aware," Rehval said sadly.

"Then let me show you the 'arrangement'," she said. She tugged down the waistline of her yellow pants and raised the hem of her black sleeveless shirt, just enough to reveal a long thin scar on the right side of her lower abdomen. Rehval winced at the sight of it, but did not look away.

"You arranged for Kandai to arrange for the Tikosi to cut me open like a carcass!" Luffa said. Her hands began to tremble, and she tightened her grip on her clothing to steady them. "Then they arranged my son right out of my damned body."

Zatte stood up, and began to approach her, reaching out with her hands, but Luffa shook her head, and so she kept her distance. Rehval remained in his chair. Servants entered the room, attracted by the noise of Luffa's tantrum, but he dismissed them with a wave of his hand.

"And you have the gall," Luffa said, "to 'invite' me to your planet, to ask for my help, as if none of this ever happened. You're so concerned about the welfare of all the Saiyans! Well where were you then?! Where was the mighty King of Saiya when I needed him?"

For a moment, the hall was silent, save for Luffa's heavy breathing. Zatte recalled that, before they came here, Luffa had confessed to feeling guilty for putting the loss of her son behind her. Now, as she accused the king for his role in the crime, the old emotional wounds seemed to have been reopened, and Zatte wondered if they had ever truly healed at all.

At last Rehval rose from his chair, his face ashen with dread. "To answer that, I have to show you something first," he said. "Will you let me do this?"

*******

In the lower levels of the citadel was a strange laboratory. It had been abandoned for some time. The black benchtops and glassware were covered with a thin layer of dust. Notebooks and equipment still lay where they had last been used, as if their owner had planned to resume his work after a brief absence. On the wall was a diagram of various arcane symbols, with additional marking scrawled around it by hand.

This was my father's inner sanctum," Rehval explained as he led the women into the room. "I've never shown this to anyone before. My subjects believe he was a righteous king. They don't realize what he did to maintain his power..."

"Alchemy," Luffa said as she looked at the symbols on the wall. "This is an alchemical laboratory, like the academy on Gwarthos. What does this have to do with anything?"

"Luffa, what I'm about to tell you may be difficult to hear, and perhaps harder to believe," Rehval said. "But I urge you to hear me out."

Luffa was losing patience, but Zatte took her hand in her own and whispered in her ear. "We came here for answers, Luffa. Let's see what he has to say."

She nodded and crossed her arms over her chest. Rehval cleared his throat and began. "First, I must ask for clarification," he said. "You had mentioned to me earlier that your mother told you about what it was like to lived under my reign. She witnessed my suppression of dissidents. Is that correct?"

"She used to live on this planet," Luffa muttered. "She left before I was born."

"Yes, I know," Rehval said. "I checked the census records before you arrived. I wanted to know more about you, you understand. Your mother left Planet Saiya thirty years ago."

"That sounds about right," Luffa said. "So what?"

He pointed at himself. "Just this: I was not the king of Saiya thirty years ago. She was speaking of my father, who was also named Rehval."

Luffa blinked. "Are you trying to tell me--?"

"I only ascended to the throne last year," he said. "Your grievance is with King Rehval the Second. I am King Rehval the Third."

NEXT: Sins of the Father

#dragon ball #fanfiction #lssjluffafic #super saiyan #luffa #rehval #zatte #planet saiya #feels kind of weird typing that #we're finally here #it's been a long time coming

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tripzy-ae · 5 years

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darlingpeter · 7 years

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royalty

this is a request by the lovely vanessa for a bucky barnes songfic based off of royalty by connor maynard!! i had to scatter my writing a bit throughout this week because of my work schedule and college registration stuff but i finally finished this and feel really good about it :-)

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, casual drinking

length: 986 words

“To Benjamin Franklin.” You grinned, holding up a glass of Cabernet. Bucky let out a short laugh and touched his glass to yours with a soft clink.

After a long day at work, the two of you had returned home to find that your electricity had been shut off. It wasn’t because you hadn’t made your payment, however. Your money had been turned in on time, it just wasn’t opened or recorded by your asshole of a landlord before the deadline. After a very frustrated confrontation, he finally found it within his grimy soul to apologize (albeit begrudgingly). Unfortunately, this still meant that it would take at least 24 hours for your power to come back on.

While you took to the arms of a long, hot shower to relax and settle down, Bucky took it upon himself to do something at least somewhat special after the tense events of the evening. This meant that after you toweled off and changed into your comfiest pajamas, you walked into your small kitchen to see two grilled-cheese sandwiches plated on your finest disposable china and a recently opened bottle of cheap wine on the counter.

It almost made you laugh at how cheesy (no pun intended) the whole situation was. There were candles lit all over the small apartment, basking everything in a dim orange glow, setting very romantic lighting on your sweats-clad boyfriend and his thoughtful setup. He looked amazing, almost like he could be on the cover of a trashy romance novel with his hair loose around his face and his shirt thrown over the back of the couch.

After eating your sandwiches and drinking most of the bottle of wine, you ended up sitting on Bucky’s lap on your small sofa, your knees on either side of his hips. While the serum makes him unable to get inebriated, alcohol still makes him drowsy, his breathing soft and even where his nose is pressed to your neck. After the events of the day, you didn't expect to end it on such a relaxed note, but if having Bucky as a boyfriend had taught you anything, it's that he can always find a way to surprise you.

“Thank you.” You hummed, raking your nails through his hair lightly. “I really needed this after the flaming trainwreck that was today.” Bucky let out a sigh against your skin pulled away from your neck in order to meet your gaze.

“I promise that it’s not going to be like this forever.” He told you, and you fixed him with a quizzical look. His suddenly serious statement shattered the perfect tranquility of the moment, and you couldn't help but let your thoughts briefly wander to fill the gap in your understanding. Before you got too far down that (sadly, mostly negative) rabbit hole, you decided to ask.

“What do you mean?”

“With crappy landlords and barely scraping by on rent, and not being able to readily afford a better wine than a $12 grocery store Cabernet.” He said, and then laughed as you murmured quietly about how well you thought the wine paired with his grilled cheese. “Someday we won’t have to deal with all of this.”

“Don’t tell me you have a plan, Danny Ocean.” You tease him, referencing a movie the two of you had watched recently and poking him gently in the chest.

“Don’t I always?” He scoffs, playfully rolling his eyes. “I’m thinking - I’ll rob a bank, win the lottery, or save the life of some wealthy billionaire so that they’re indebted to me, or maybe even enter in an underground fighting circuit and always bet on myself to win. If it all works out, we’ll be financially set for life. The only question is if we'll get it in bills, solid gold, or one of those giant cardboard checks that they give to people who win something.”

You can’t help but let out a small giggle. "Those giant checks are just for show, Buck. Besides, what will we do with all of that money?”

“Whatever you want, doll.” He said lowly, smoothing his hands up and down your sides gently. “We could buy a little estate outside Bucharest, or hell, a chateau in the French countryside where we can do the most extravagant things that you can dream of. I'm talking silk sheets, champagne and caviar every day, yachts, private jets, and not having to worry about price tags on anything. I’ll be able to shower you with gifts on a daily basis, from diamond jewelry to custom-made dresses and shoes to the biggest bouquets of flowers that you can even imagine. I’ll be able to treat you like the queen that you are.”

His words sent warm pangs love stirring in your chest and caused your cheeks to flush a rosy pink. “What if I don’t want all of that though?” You asked, biting your lip in order to try and disguise a growing grin.“What if I don’t need the fancy stuff that comes with being well-off?”

“That’s ok too.” He responded. “We can buy a perfect-sized place wherever you want, whether it's a homey country cottage or a nice apartment in the heart of the city. Either way, we won’t have to deal with shitty landlords or utilities being shut off or not being able to buy groceries for the week. We can live like royalty, even without the extravagance, sweetheart. I promise”

Heart soaring, you press a kiss to his lips. It’s soft and slow, and his hands come up to gently cradle your jaw. When you pull away, his blue eyes are boring into yours intensely with an emotion that you couldn't quite place.“I love you, my king.” You said low in a whisper. He tilted your head down so that your noses could brush.

“And I you, my queen.” He said, his reddened mouth turning up in a lazy smile.

(And if Bucky calls you your majesty for the next week or so, you can’t help but let it bring a happy pink tint to your cheeks.)

[a/n: for the record, i can to attest to the fact that grilled cheese and cabernet pairs well - i like to sit down and have a glass of wine with my mom every once in a while and many lazy nights become grilled cheese nights in my house! i can also say that adding basil into a grilled cheese sandwich makes it 10x better, but that’s just my personal opinion. :-)

as always, thank you thank you thank you for reading!! my requests are open, and i’m super super open to all feedback anyone wants to give me! i’ll be checking my inbox, messages, replies to this post, and even tags on reblogs because i really want to know what you guys think!]

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes preference #bucky barnes one shot #avengers imagine #avengers one shot #avengers fluff #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan one shot #mine #yay!!!!#ifoundlove-x0vanessa0x #my writing

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