#Nimona being all “I had fun with it” with her Grin

[benjis-house-boat]

Imagine the conversation between Nimona, Bal, and Ambro about the Director's confession after the movie end Ambro: So that was really the Director confessing? It wasn't Nimona pretending to be her? Nimona: Oh yeah, I was being YOU at the time. Ambro: Wait, what? Okay, I need to see the uncut video now Bal: No, no you don't. Just... believe me, you don't want to see it Ambro: Why?! What did you do as me Nimona!? Nimona, pulling up the uncut video: Oh come on Evil Larry! I put on an AWESOME death scene! Ambro: Evil Larry? .... Wait, DEATH?!

[yrrtyrrtwhenihrrthrrt]

hiiii i love your writing! can you write anything with ambrosius being protective over ballister (movie versions)? thank you for reading this either way!

That's so sweet! I'm so glad you enjoy it :) I've got just the thing!! Important context/summary for this piece: Ballister was an orphan, he was adopted at one point and then returned for being too rowdy as a little child. His "parents" show up. Ambrosius is Big Mad

Ballister chopped vegetables while Ambrosius flipped channels on the other side of the floor. It would be dinner time soon. He hummed and swayed to the music coming from his phone while he cooked. He disliked cleaning and he loved cooking, so this arrangement was an easy sell.

Since announcing their engagement, tabloids were, of course, annoying, so it was nicer to just spend their days off in their house, cooking, dancing, planning their wedding. It would be perfect. Neither of them wanted a big one, but it was going to be so beautiful.

A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. He turned the skillet off and wiped his hands before proceeding over there. He was ready to turn away over-ambitious fans, or welcome in friends, or see whatever Nimona dragged back from her adventures. He was not ready for what was on the other side of that door.

When he opened the door, he saw an older couple and a young woman, smiling at him. He didn't recognize them, but there was something familiar, uneasy, that he couldn't quite put his finger on. "Can I help you?"

"Ballister, son!" The man said with a grin. "It's so good to see you again. You remember us, don't you?"

Ballister furrowed his brow. The woman spoke, "It's us, sweetie. Your mom and dad."

Suddenly it all came back. Sitting in the adoption interview, sweating, doing his best to look like a perfect child, being so so so happy when he was told they'd chosen him, going to his new house, sleeping in a proper bed, wearing clean clothes and getting affection and attention as he needed it. Then the accident, running around with his little sister, bumping into the TV, getting cuts on her arm and his eye. The hospital. Stitches. Being dragged back to the orphanage. How he screamed and cried and begged his mommy and daddy not to return him. How they didn't listen. Getting dumped back like a defective toy. Getting bullied for being returned. Nobody wanting to adopt him again. How he missed his toys and warm bed and clothes and hadn't been allowed to keep even a single thing. How he firmly believed after that, for years, that nobody would ever love him.

"Don't – don't call yourselves that. What the fuck are you doing here?"

"We wanted to congratulate you on your engagement!" The woman, he remembered their last name was Clocksmith, said with a smile.

He blinked. "My engagement?" He was engaged to Ambrosius Goldenloin. A member, albeit unwillingly, of one of the wealthiest and most powerful families in the Kingdom without royal blood. If these people were his family, they would be a part of that family too.

Too bad they never signed the papers.

"Of course, son. What wonderful news! You must be so happy. We've missed you so much. When is the wedding?" Mr. Clocksmith asked, with a forced nicety about him that made Ballister's skin crawl.

"You're not coming to my wedding. The date isn't public."

Mrs. Clocksmith stepped forward, "Ballister, sweetie, I'm sure you're still hurt, and we're so sorry, but don't family bonds run deeper than–"

"You're not my family. You never signed the paperwork. You didn't raise me. You spent two months giving me some fun house mirror reflection of a family just so you could take it all away!" He looked at their faces and saw the cold, apathetic expressions as he screamed and cried, dragged back into the orphanage. "What kind of a family does that!?"

Ambrosius, who had heard the yelling, quickly appeared by his side. "Woah, woah, hey, Bal, what's going on? Who are these people?" His warm hand slid onto the small of Ballister's back and his kind, worried eyes tore down the rest of Ballister's walls as if they were made of paper mache.

"We're his parents, it's such a pleasure to meet you, Sir Goldenloin!" Mr. Clocksmith offered his hand.

Ambrosius's eyes widened and tears slid out of Ballister's eyes. Ambrosius immediately pulled Ballister away and slammed the door.

Ballister leaned against it and slid to the floor sobbing. He felt like that scared lonely rejected little kid again. Ambrosius knelt in front of him and held him tightly, rocking gently. "I know, Bal. My poor baby. I'm so sorry. I'm going to get them away from our home, okay? I'm gonna get them to leave and never ever bother you again." He helped Ballister to his feet and led him by the hand to the sofa. "You just relax here, and I will come back. I love you so much."

Ambrosius turned on his heels and marched back towards the door. His blood boiled. How dare those people abandon Ballister like that? To return him like an object? It had destroyed Ballister. Given him problems with intimacy that didn't break down until Ambrosius chipped away bit by bit at his walls for nearly a decade.

Now they were back. Ambrosius knew why. And he hated that in some way it was his fault. If he were a regular person, they wouldn't use Bal to get to his family. The fact that they had the audacity to show up now, so flagrantly to use and discard Ballister again was sickening. He equipped his sword belt to his side and threw open the door. The people startled.

"How dare you." He growled, stepping out and slamming it behind him. "How dare you show your faces here! How dare you so flagrantly try to use him! He's not a toy or a tool! He's a person! A very sweet, lovely, kind, angel of a person! You would have been so lucky to be his parents. You treated him worse than I could ever imagine anyone treating anyone!" He seethed. "I hate that I'm the reason you came here. No, you are not his parents. You will never be a part of my family, and in fact, with one call to my parents I could probably get all of you cast out to the street!" He hated playing this card, and he was probably lying, but people like this only cared about things like that.

The father tried defending them, "Sir Goldenloin, you weren't a parent, you don't understand –"

"But YOU were! And a horrible one at that! I hope your daughter is okay because even if you loved her a million times more than you did Bal, a million times zero is still zero!" He drew his sword and pointed it down the street. "Now get the fuck away from my house or I will place both of you under arrest for harassment."

He didn't wait for an answer before slamming the door and bolting in shut. He quickly returned to Ballister, who was biting his nails, curled up on the couch. Nail biting had been an awful habit for him as a child, and Ambrosius could remember his little hands with their dirty nails beds, bitten down past the quick and caked with dried blood. The therapist said something about him not having any comfort items to hold or other stress-reducing repetitive stimuli causing him to do it. He only did it rarely as an adult. "Are you okay, Rose?"

"Of course I'm okay, are you okay?" He sat beside Bal and took his hands, gently removing them from his mouth. Ballister nodded and shuffled closer, leaning against him.

"Thank you for making them leave. I'm sorry, I don't know what happened, I-- I just shut down. It was embarrassing."

"Please don't ever worry about anything like that. I know how brave you are. I know how much shit you've been able to put up with. You don't have to put up with that too."

Ballister hummed softly and admired his engagement ring before closing his eyes. "It doesn't matter. You and Nimona are the only family I'll ever need."

Ambrosius smiled and kissed his forehead, snuggling in closer.

In a wisp of pink, Nimona appeared in the room behind them with some groceries, apparently having flown through a window. "Hey guys, what did I miss?"

[athina-blaine]

you can't carry it with you if you want to survive (Nimona 2023) - Chapter 2 (Preview)

(Note: this is not the finalized draft; anything featured is subject to edits or deletion)

Chapter 1 (Recap) Ambrosius braced himself against the quiet, waiting for the sharp prickling of his pulse to steady. He didn’t know how long he stood there before he became aware of a dull pain in his hand.  His glasses. At some point, he’d squeezed them so tightly they’d snapped in half, the glass puncturing his skin. He stared at the thin ribbon of blood running down his hand until it had stained his white sleeve red. A deep, bitter frustration burned behind his eyes. He’d never get through reviewing his documents now. Not unless he wanted to give himself a migraine so bad it could actually kill him. The night was lost. He’d upset Ballister for nothing. His jaw tightened. Fuck it, he thought, chucking the crushed glasses across his desk.  He needed a drink.

Chapter 2 (Preview)

Raising the glass of dark liquid to his lips, Ambrosius downed it in a single smooth gulp, grimacing as it seared down his throat. Setting the glass down, he rapped the counter with his knuckles and the bartender appeared before him once more, promptly refilling his glass.

Ambrosius had never considered himself a fan of drinking. He drank, yes, but that didn’t translate into liking to drink. He’d imbibe in challenging social situations or to have fun with the right person, but he didn't drink excessively. He didn’t like the feeling of losing control.

Tonight, he had no such reservations.

As Ambrosius brought the glass back to his mouth, his shaky hand caused the liquid to spill over the edge. He watched as it trickled downwards and dipped into the groove of his thumb, staining his bandage. 

He’d have to change that now, he thought distantly as he reached over for a napkin.

After Ambrosius had decided on his course of action for the night, he’d tended to the cut on his hand, cleaning and bandaging it. He then replaced his uniform jacket with the hooded sweater he kept in the office for colder days—it was one of the few comforts he allowed himself, but he also didn’t want to dirty up his uniform jacket. If he did, the stupid thing would need to be sent out for dry cleaning.

Sighing, he took another burning sip, the dark liquor having begun to take its toll, numbing his lips and the tips of his fingers. The sounds of the bar—poor-quality speakers blasting music, sporadic conversations, the rhythmic clack of pool balls—blended into a low, static hum. The bright purple fairy lights coiled overhead cast an otherworldly glow upon his hands. It all served to blur the lines of reality as he took another searing drink.

In the midst of his haze, he was unaware of the seat next to him being taken until its occupant had leaned well into his personal space.

“WHAT'S UP, NEMESIS!”

Ambrosius jumped and spun around, coming face to face with a pair of scarlet eyes and a grin punctuated with sharp canines.

“It’s you,” he said stupidly. 

The shapeshifter’s grin widened. 

As the initial shock of her appearance subsided, Ambrosius had to resist the urge to collapse completely over the bar, overcome with exhaustion. Of course she’d be here.

Instead, he straightened up, fixing his eyes on his drink. “I can’t say I expected to see you here.”

“Between the two of us,” she said as she settled into her own seat, “I think we both know that you’re the odd man out.” She held out her phone. “You’re kind of blowing up my feed, man.”

From the corner of his eyes, Ambrosius watched her scroll through a dashboard filled with images and videos of the ambush interview he'd endured earlier that day, along with more pictures of him at the bar at that exact moment.

Is this how a leader behaves when his policies are a joke? said one comment with several emoticons. #KingRegentAmbrosius

Can't handle a little criticism, so he drowns his sorrows, said another. So disappointing. #KingFail

That reporter was right to grill him. So glad people are finally starting to see through all this nonsense. #WakeUp #Gloreth #BringBackTheWall

The shapeshifter stashed her phone away, looking a bit sheepish, and Ambrosius could only imagine the face he must have been making. She cleared her throat.

“Sorry,” she said. “You get the idea.”

In response, he took another sip from his drink, unable to muster much more than annoyance at nosy bar patrons and gratitude that Ballister didn’t have an account.

“But, like, I imagine there is a reason you’re out here getting blitzed, right?” the girl asked, twirling a discarded straw wrapper between her fingers. “Because, frankly, I never took you for the type. You know, no drinking, no smoking, no swearing, that sort of thing.”

Wrong on all counts, he thought morosely. The haunting image of Ballister's eyes from earlier that night, anguished and miserable, briefly flashed in his mind as he quickly finished off his drink. Placing the glass back on the table, he reached out to get the bartender’s attention, feeling her gaze like a weight.

“It’s complicated,” was all he managed.

“Uh-huh,” she said as the bartender stepped away again, eyes following Ambrosius’ hand as he reached for the glass. “And what happened there?”

“Where?”

She gestured towards his bandage. Before he could reply, however, she held up her hand. “Wait, let me guess,” she said with a grin. “Epic. Ninja. Ambush.” 

With a shout, she waved around her straw wrapper like a sword, mimicking the sounds of a dramatic combat. Her performance had it all—betrayal, a break-up, a noble sacrifice, until she had collapsed over the bar in a faux-death, tongue trailing out of her mouth. 

His lips twitched. “Yeah,” he said. “That’s about what happened.”

Grinning, she sheathed her wrapper and bowed, and Ambrosius chuckled, a bit delirious by this point. 

Placing his glass down with a clatter, he rubbed his tired eyelids. This wasn't how he'd imagined this encounter going. “Remind me again what you said you were doing here?”

“I didn’t,” she said, crumbling up the wrapper into a small ball. With a flick, she shot it at his face, where it bounced off his nose. “You first.”

Scrunching up his nose, Ambrosius picked up the wrapper and inspected it, squeezing it until his fingertips grew pale. One of them was going to have to give in, and, frankly, he didn’t like his chances in a battle of wills. More than that, though, he figured he owed her that much. The thought brought with it a sigh.

“Bal and I had a fight,” he said, tossing away the trash. 

She glanced over at him. “What, like a fun, nemesis fight? With swords and bombs and stuff? Or like a lame shouty fight?"

“He didn’t shout.”

“Boring,” she said, digging into her ear with her pinky finger. “What did you guys fight about?”

But he shook his head, raising his glass. “Your turn.”

“Oh, come on, that’s barely an answer,” she whined. “Things that concern the boss concern me too, you know. It’s sidekick privilege.”

In lieu of an answer, he knocked back another deliberate, long sip. With a groan, she tossed her head back.

“Fine,” she said. “I mean, I don't see why I have to spell it out for you, but whatever. I just was in the area and figured you could use a check-in. This,” she made a vague gesture towards him, “doesn’t scream someone who’s got their shit handled, okay?” She crossed her arms. “There, happy?”

“You …” he said, blinking. “You came here because you were worried?” 

“Yeah.”

“About me?”

“Yeah, man, who else?” she said, eyes fixed on the table. “What’s with the third degree here?”

He dragged a hand across his face, the realization hitting him hard in his inebriated state. Here he’d been, steeling himself against her presence, only to learn that she had come here out of genuine concern for him. He wanted to sink under the table and vanish through the floor.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I haven't been treating you very nicely, have I?”

“You’re fine, man,” she said, picking at a flaking dent on the table. “We don’t have to like each other to look out for each other. The boss says you're cool, so you and me? We’re cool.”

“I do like you,” he insisted gently, and knew he deserved the subsequent scoff.

“Sure,” she said. “You look at all your friends like you're trying to figure out whether something died nearby?”

“Well,” he said, thinking back to the former fellow knights-in-training he’d associated with before Ballister. “Some of my old friends, maybe.”

“Sure, man.” She swiveled around in her chair and reclined back against the bar, her brow creased. “Whatever you say.”

Eyes returning to his glass, Ambrosius watched the swirling dark liquid distort his reflection. It wasn’t enough to just try placating her. If he wanted to appease her, he was going to have to put a little more of himself on the table.

“You want the truth?” he asked.

She shrugged, her frown having escalated into a full-blown pout. Something about it made him want to laugh, and, with a jolt, he realized it was because Ballister would pout in exactly the same way when he wanted to play Ambrosius’ emotions like an accordion.

“You sure?” he said, fighting to conceal the amusement in his voice. “It’s actually pretty stupid.”

Rolling her eyes, she swiveled back towards him. “You know that just makes me want to know more.”

Despite his efforts, his lips broke out in a grin, and he signaled the bartender over to settle his tab. He then turned to the shapeshifter and motioned her closer. She gave him a suspicious look but complied, tilting her head forward, and Ambrosius leaned close to her ear.

“The truth is,” he stage-whispered, “I'm jealous.”

“You’re what?” She leapt back. “Of who?” She pointed to her own face. “Of me?” 

Nodding, he downed the last of his drink, his grin contorting as the fiery burn seared his throat. Setting down the empty glass, he rose to his feet, and her eyes widened.

“Hey, whoa, hold the fuck up,” she said, jumping up from her chair as he turned away from the bar. “You can’t drop something like that and just walk away.”

“Actually, it’s pretty easy,” he said as he weaved through the bar patrons. He threw his grin over his shoulder. “See?” 

With a groan, the shapeshifter rushed after him. In a blur too fast for his eyes to follow, Ambrosius found his shoulders burdened with the angriest-looking monkey he’d ever seen, nearly toppling him over.

“I bet you think you’re real cute,” said the monkey. “But I’ll let you know right now that I’ve got that market cornered, pal.”

The menace in her voice, coupled with the soft fuzziness of her face, almost broke his composure entirely. His knees nearly buckled under the weight of both his suppressed laughter and the monkey as he turned towards the doorway. 

His good humor vanished, however, as he came face to face with the lens of a camera phone. The shock hit him like a bucket of ice-cold water, and even though the woman holding the phone looked embarrassed, it wasn’t enough to make her want to lower it.

Before Ambrosius could open his mouth, though, the air shattered with the ear-splitting shriek of a baboon, its large, glistening fangs spitting flecks of saliva into the woman’s face. The woman screamed and ran.

“Some people,” said the monkey, picking at its teeth. “No respect for a person’s privacy.”

Ambrosius brought a hand to his ringing ears. If he had been even slightly drowsy before, he was wide awake now.

“Thanks,” he said, dazed.

“Don't mention it,” she said, jumping off his shoulders and landing on the stairway railing as a small field mouse. She glanced back at him. “Like I said, we’re cool.”

Ambrosius watched as she scurried up the railing and disappeared from view. After a brief pause, he followed suit.

[Chapter 1 on AO3]

[the-oc-lass]

Nimona OC - Charlotte Swiftheart/Corova

So I currently have two AUs rattling around in my head: A Knight Charlotte AU and a Golden "Twins" Rebellion AU.

Knight Charlotte is pretty self explanatory. Charlotte just never leaves the Institute and we see how that plays out for her and the rest of the story.

Golden "Twins" Rebellion would start similarly to the Knight Charlotte AU, but then it would take a completely different turn, with the Queen dying while our main cast was still teens, Ballister remaining a cadet and eventually becoming a knight, and Charlotte and Ambrosius going on the run and eventually being the leaders of a rebellion against the Institute.

I like them both, but I wanted to see what other people thought before I dove into them too much. So, let me know your thoughts!

Anywho, back to our regularly scheduled writing. (P.S. While writing this scene, I realized that Ballister's screen name is BalliSTAR12 and I laughed a little too much at that)

First, Previous, Next

She's pacing and fidgeting. She hates waiting like this. She hates not knowing what's going on, not knowing if the people she cares for are okay. It makes her jumpy, almost anxious. She spent some time cleaning up the tower, but there was only so much she could do. How long has it been since she left to meet up with Ambrosius? How long has it been since she came back? She's about to start biting at her nails when the door opens, and Ballister and Nimona both come bounding in. She turns toward them, eyes wide.

"Well?" she asks. Ballister looks at her for a moment, then holds up the recording device with a grin.

"We got it." Charlotte shrieks with joy, hurtling herself over the sofa and rushing toward them. She grabs Ballister by the shoulders, an enormous grin on her face.

"This is amazing! We're going to ruin her! Ohhhh, let me see, let me see!" she says, all but bouncing on her toes. Ballister chuckles, gently pushing her hands off.

"Alright, alright. Give me a second," he says, moving past her and toward his computer. Charlotte turns toward Nimona, who has a matching expression of glee on her face.

"How did she react? What did her face look like?" she asks. Nimona waves her hands.

"Hold on, hold on." She turns her face away, then shifts into the Director and looks at Charlotte, mimicking the Director's look of confusion and horror. It's delightful. Charlotte giggles, and Nimona snorts and turns back into herself to join her.

"Char." They look over at Ballister, who raises an expectant eyebrow and gestures to the computer. Charlotte and Nimona scurry over, leaning on either side of him to look at the screen. As he plays the video, Charlotte watches Nimona's performance closely.

"You make an excellent Ambrosius," she mutters, not looking away from the screen. Nimona makes a soft noise, and Charlotte can see her waving a dismissive hand in the corner of her eye. However, all fun is sucked from the situation when the Director stabs Nimona, and Nimona gives a very convincing performance of death. Even though she knows that it isn't really Ambrosius, and that Nimona is perfectly fine despite being stabbed, it puts a dreadful pit in her stomach. But in the end, they get what they were after. The Director confesses her crimes to the "dying" Shambrosius. Everything that they need is right there in words. The Director is finished once this goes out. But she's still caught up on that one detail. "She stabbed you!" Charlotte looks over at Nimona, who looks back at her.

"I know! Can you believe she tried to do her own dirty work?" she cries. That's not what Charlotte was referring to, but it's another good point.

"I didn't know she had it in her," she says. Nimona shrugs, and Charlotte looks down at Ballister.

"Please tell me we're putting the entire thing out," she says. He looks up at her.

"Well..."

"Bal," she says incredulously. "The kingdom needs to see all of this. They need to see what she's capable of."

"You're right. But this video could put Nimona in danger. It shows what she's capable of too," he says. Charlotte frowns slightly and glances back at Nimona. However, the teen isn't looking back at her, merely frowning at the computer screen in front of them with a sad look in her eyes.

"I...Yeah, I guess that's a pretty good reason," Charlotte says, looking back down at Ballister. He offers her a half smile and reaches out to touch her arm.

"We'll bring her down, Char. We just have to figure out the best way to use what's in this video," he says. She sighs.

"Alright."

Somewhere along the way, they'd started playing World Domination. And by "they," she means Ballister and Nimona. Ballister had asked if she wanted to play with them, but she'd laughed and said that she was still an incredibly sore loser.

"If I play with you, I think our friendship might be over before the game is," she'd said. And Ballister had chuckled, recalled their childhood with the game, and then she'd started watching the two of them play in between editing the video and starting to upload it. She's currently leaning over the back of the couch, watching Nimona get ready to roll.

"Come on, come on!" she says, shaking the dice in her hands and blowing on them for luck. She lets out a little "whoo-hoo!" as she throws them down on the board, and they eventually come to a stop in the middle of the board. "Yes! Let's take that pooch for a walk." She throws herself down on the couch and picks up her game piece: the Scottie Dog. "Eight, nine, ten." She slams her piece down, and Charlotte makes a sympathetic hissing noise.

"Ooh, landing you in the Enchanted Forest, which is my domain," Ballister says, walking over and sitting on the couch next to her. "Cha-ching. 600 gold, please." He waves a hand at Nimona with a smug look on his face, and Charlotte rolls her eyes fondly. Now she remembers why she and Ambrosius were sore losers.

"My Scottie dog will not pay your tyrannical toll," Nimona says, jumping to her feet on the couch and pointing her finger at Ballister. His eyes widen momentarily, but his face quickly falls into an unamused expression as Nimona turns away, excitedly telling her Scottie dog's story. "He rallies the oppressed woodland creatures and starts a rebellion. Squirrels scale the castle walls! Bears batter down the gates! Letting chaos ensue!" She makes a few burbling noises and mock screams in a higher pitch, then grabs her juice box off the table and squeezes it. The cherry juice squirts out to represent blood, and Charlotte hides her smile behind a hand. At Nimona's final death noise, she breaks into a soft giggle and bows her head, hiding her face in her arms.

"I'm still taking the 600 gold," Ballister says after a few moments. Charlotte lifts her head and continues to watch as Nimona pops back up again, a look of disbelief on her face.

"What?" Ballister reaches down to take said 600 gold, but jumps back when Nimona opens her mouth and breathes fire onto the table. The sudden burst of fire makes Charlotte straighten as well, recoiling slightly. She knew that Nimona could do a lot of things...But she's never seen her friend breathe fire. When the fire is gone, she just stares at the mildly charred board and table.

"You didn't tell me you could breathe fire," Ballister says, sounding a little shaken. And Charlotte can't blame him there. It doesn't change her opinion of Nimona, no, but the fire breathing itself would startle anyone who had never seen it before.

"Oh..." Charlotte looks over at Nimona, and the look on her face pushes the startled feeling aside. She almost looks guilty, saddened by the fact that she may have scared her friends. But after a moment, Ballister chuckles a bit.

"Metal. Best two out of three?" he asks, reaching out to grab some new cards and scooting a bit closer to Nimona. Charlotte looks over at him, and she's not surprised, exactly, but it was a bit of an unexpected reaction from him. It makes her heart warm, and she also wants to kick Ambrosius for losing this lovely, wonderful man. He lifts his head and looks at Nimona. "What?" And Nimona smiles at him, shaking her head slightly.

"Nothing." Suddenly, the computer starts beeping, and they all turn toward it and rush over. As they crowd around it, Charlotte can see that the video has successfully been uploaded, and people are starting to watch.

"Hey, check it out," Ballister says. The computer continues to beep as more people view the video and more comments come in.

"Whoa! A hundred-- 500-- 30,000-- Seventy-five-- The whole kingdom is seeing this thing," Nimona exclaims. It...Good Gloreth, it's incredible. This will finally clear Ballister's name, and it will bring down the Director. She's almost emotional over it. She's been waiting for this day—the day that the Director would finally go down—for so long.

"Well, I guess there's only one question left," Ballister says. Charlotte looks over at him, and can see matching confusion on Nimona's face as she does the same.

"What's that?" Nimona asks.

"Can a shark dance?" Oh, this is going in a very fun direction.

"Can a shark dance?" Nimona repeats, grinning and leaning on Ballister's shoulder. Ballister raises an eyebrow at her slightly. "Watch me." She snaps her teeth together, and Charlotte grins and goes to turn on the music. They've earned themselves a dance party.

1/2

Lovely tagged people:

@ammonitetheseaserpent @perfectkittystranger @madlad06 @xxlunadrawsstuffxx @floxu