#Oh and paint my prop sword and test out the make-up!

[silverior968]

Oh the joys of painting broken old winter boots with acrylic paint

[polarisdelphi]

A little character study I did a while ago, trying to figure out new ways of painting, style changes while remaining more on the realistic side... And sword props, 'cause I LOVE drawing swords.

(And I made up the thing written on Excalibur, I know the Legend says it's "Take me Up/Cast me Away", but I wanted something more tied to Arthur's character and why he's the only one who can wield it)

King Arthur and his Knights are one of my favourite stories, so I wanted to work on some ~character designs~ for them (a little d&d-ish like...?)! Working as well on presentation and something I'd enjoy having on my portfolio/doing as a character comission/project/first draft.

Also, tried to test some different layers while colouring, ended up with a sort of vitral looking thing for him:

Which I also enjoyed a lot :3

Now, regarding character and clothes and all - and some of my takes on Arturian Legend, and just me being a big Arthur and his Knights fangirl overall, under the cut ^^

When it comes to King Arthur, I enjoy more the historical findings and more modern retellings that Arthur would have been a war general, not a king, around the 5th century - fighting saxons on the bloody fiedls of Britain while praying to pagan gods. So that's the direction I'm going for here - even if I took some ~historical liberties~ regarding how everything looks.

(alsooo BIG DISCLAIMER: I'm a product of catholic school and I have a personal beef with all the religion/God/catholic values of the ~legends~ hence why I prefer seeing all of them as a bunch of normal guys surviving the drenched in blood politics of the 5th century rather than chaste, virtuous knights of the 11th century - it's a personal stance, you are more than welcome to disagree in a civilized manner ^^)

Here we have him then: Arthur, uncrowned king of Britain, probably Uther's bastard son, one hell of a war general and politician dealing with the saxons and pulverized british kings fighting for the Great King crown - who just dreams of having a normal life in a nice place with Guinevere and watch his sons grow in a land with peace and justice.

Oh, Arthur, my sweet summer child, I've got news for you...

I Used red on him as a more ~regal colour~, even if usually purple are more the colours of kings and royalty (historically speaking, as far as I know, I'm not really a historian T-T).

Now, a lot of his armor - and looks - comes from Bernard Cornwell's The Winter King book series, that is about Arthur and his Knights. I remember reading Arthur's appearance in a field of war for the first time and my own imagination had me in awe of how stunning (heroic like, not beauty like) he was HAHAHAHA

Shiny dragonscale armor, white vests, white cape, bright sword, mounting on a white Shire Horse (one of the biggest horse breeds ever) that only he and his Knights mounted, making them famous for it... A vision, to say the least!

The white cape and clothes didn't work for this design though. I wanted to make a white cape, dirty with mud and blood, but overall, not good for the design. Went with red because it looks better, it's a royal looking colour for me and it has that blood thing. Arthur might have been fair and with great morals for his time, but he was a killer drenched in blood, head to toes, just like every other great war general.

I want to make a series of Arthurian Legend related illustrations and such, so this is the Arthur I picture and the one I've always had in mind: idealistic, fighting for peace and justice, suffering a lot in a world where blood and corruption is the accepted currency; but even so, he won't abandon his own values and will keep fighting for a better Britain, even if he has to coat himself in the blood of his enemies.

After reading a LOT on Arthur and his Knights - be it classic Arthurian Legend tales, Le Mort D'Arthur, Mists of Avalon, all the Arthurian movies ever made, researches, university talks on Arthur as a character and who were the historical figures he was based on, Bernard Cornwell's books, and a bunch of other stuff told ya I'm an Arthur fangirl :') - I decided to work on my own take of the story, as a lot of people have done before.

Whenever you see any illustrations from me, it's going to be this idea I have in my mind of how his story was like - and what I would've liked to see in books/movies on Arthur and his Knights :)

just you wait for my Lancelot and my Guinevere

[kassandras-one-braincell]

Kassandra x Fem!Reader - The Most Peculiar Wingman

Can be found on AO3 here.

Summary: You recently moved into a new flat and you’re hearing some rather unusual sounds from your next-door neighbour’s abode. You’re worried the mysterious woman next door is involved in something dangerous. Kassandra is worried that you’re the landlord about to bust her for her lease violation.

(Sorry if you don’t like coffee and/or you speak fluent Greek.)

Word count: 2568

.

Damn, you’ve lucked out with your new flat. The area is pleasant, the décor is tasteful – the windowsills could use a bit more greenery, but you’ll get to that – and the letting agent wasn’t a dick. Zero hassle with bills, minimal scuffs on the walls…it’s bizarre how simple your moving process has been.

But nothing can be perfect, can it?

Over the few days you’ve lived in your new home, you noticed some rather disconcerting sounds coming from the apartment next door. Nothing that disrupts your sleep, thankfully, although your post-unpacking nap was interrupted by a very loud thud against the thin wall connecting the two flats. Thumps, crashes and very disgruntled cursing in a language you can’t quite place tend to crop up in quick succession once or twice a day. Today, though, the odd sounds seem to be omnipresent.

The strange symphony is starting to get alarming; you’re beginning to ponder if the seemingly perpetually angry woman next door is involved in violence…or, forbid, organised crime? That would certainly explain the forceful thuds and grumbling. God, what if she manages to rope you into her shenanigans? What if she is armed?

After a loud bang and an exasperated “oh, fuck you” reverberates into your apartment, you decide to investigate.

Anxiously, you pop on some slippers and step into the hall, locking the door behind you (‘I’m not about to get robbed less than a week after moving,’ you think to yourself, ‘Oh, shit, I need to get insurance…’). Stomach churning with speculation, you make the arduous four-metre trek to your neighbour’s door. Biting your lip, you rap your knuckles against the wood.

A chorus of panicked shuffling echoes through the door, causing your throat to tighten. Footsteps sprint from one side of the room to the other, the sound of shattering ceramic shrill against the heavy thudding. “Shit, shit, shit, shit,” the woman hisses, muffled by the walls, followed by some shushing and the rattling of something metal. Who is this woman, what the fuck is she hiding, why am I doing this—

Suddenly, the door swings open, revealing…oh, wow.

Your neighbour is an amazon.

Flawless bronze skin, chocolate hair strewn into an unruly braid, tall and shredded with lean muscle. Her eyes are a gorgeous tawny brown, the split second of alarm disappearing from her gaze, replaced by a sparkle that makes your heart hammer against your chest. Very kissable lips upturn into a charming smile, bringing your attention to a small scar above her upper lip quirking adorably. A deeper scar sits on her nose, and the pang of anxiety returns, but your eyes need only flicker back to hers and it melts away.

“You’re not the landlord,” she says with a rich accent and curious lilt. Your cheeks feel warm.

“Uhm, hi.” You fiddle with your thumbs, mouth suddenly dry. “Sorry, I moved in a few days ago next door. I just heard some loud noises and was wondering if everything was alright?”

Lips curving furthermore, she braces her arms on the doorframe above and, fuck, are they nice arms. Sun-kissed, bulging against her white t-shirt, three gnarly rings cutting into her right bicep that just scream to be touched. Is this her distraction tactic?

“Oh, sorry about that. I hope I wasn’t too much of a disturbance?”

When you finally pry your eyes from her arms, a tiny smirk registers on her handsome face. Bashful, you stammer, “No, it’s fine. But, uh, what caused it, if I may ask?”

The woman cranes her neck to scan the hall. “Can you keep a secret?”

Mob boss? Arms dealer? Axe murderer?

Clearly, your nervous speculations are apparent, because her eyes widen slightly. “Don’t worry, lovely, it’s nothing dangerous. I just have a pet bird.”

Breathing a shaky sigh of relief, you run a hand through your hair. Just a bird. Just a bird. Her face relaxes back into a casual smile. A fresh wave of warmth caresses your cheeks at the name she gave you.

Chuckling, you joke, “Must be one big bird.”

“He’s…an eagle.”

You blink back your shock. “How on earth did you manage to get a pet eagle?”

She laughs, the melody warm and addictive. “Poor fucker followed me all the way from Kefalonia. I didn’t have it in me to say goodbye, even if it violates the lease.” Her tone is affectionate, despite her less-than-endearing name for the bird. Pushing back from the door frame – hands flexing wonderfully while she does so – she gestures for you to step in. “Come and meet him, if you’d like.”

Everything about this woman is so inviting, you can’t help but gravitate into her apartment.

“I don’t think I caught your name?” you ask shyly.

“Kassandra,” she replies, flipping the ‘r’ in her buttery accent. “And what can I call you?”

Anything you fucking want. “(Y/N) is fine,” you manage, debating whether her flat is hot or your face is akin to a beetroot.

“That’s a lovely name. Suits you perfectly,” she winks. She saunters over to a shelf with a blanket hastily thrown over it. You can’t help but observe her firm-looking behind through her jeans. Kassandra tugs away the blanket, revealing a large eagle sitting grumpily in a cage. It remains put when she unlocks the cage, standing almost defiantly.

“Don’t be like that, Ikaros,” she chastises. The eagle – Ikaros – begrudgingly flies out of his confines, perching atop the sofa in the middle of the open-plan room. “He’s gentle, I promise.” You’re doubtful, but he isn’t making any sudden moves.

“He just likes winding you up?”

“Loves it,” she grins. “He’s a little bitter I put him on a diet since he was getting a bit fat. That’s why he’s been throwing some tantrums lately.”

You smile as she scratches the top of his head before heading to the kitchen. “Can I get you anything to drink?” Kassandra asks, giving you another heart-melting beam. “I have coffee, orange juice, I might have some tea somewhere—”

“Coffee would be nice, thank you.” She asks your preference and you state it, taking in the layout of her apartment. The place gave off a very homely, Mediterranean vibe, with warm colours and white furnishings. A few hand-painted ceramic vases were dotted about – maybe she did pottery – alongside some family photographs. Atop the dining table was a woven basket brimming with ripe fruits, as well as a laptop with a pile of messy papers next to it.

“Have a seat, get comfy,” she calls over the whirring of an expensive looking coffee machine. Shyly you take the chair by the unoccupied end of the dining table. Feeling nosy, you scan the documents by her laptop, but the handwriting was all in Greek.

A minute later, Kassandra joins you with a steaming mug in her hand. “Your coffee, madame,” she announces with a pantomimic bow, evoking a laugh.

“Merci,” you thank her. “How would I say that in Greek?”

“Efharistó,” she replies. You test the word hesitantly, wincing on the second syllable, making her laugh. “Not bad,” she chuckles.

“I butchered it.”

“Try it a little softer,” she smiles, lowering her voice, giving it a sensual cadence that made your head spin. Oh, she knows she’s attractive.

“Efharistó,” you border on whisper, gay little brain surging with the overwhelming instinct to do whatever she tells you.

“There we go!” The proud quirk of her lips is all you need to see.

Feeling your cheeks flush, you bring the coffee mug to your lips, hoping the steam from the beverage will help mask your fluster. You blow on the liquid and take a sip, immediately regretting the decision as you scorch your tastebuds, repressing the urge to hiss in favour of looking cool for the hot Grecian.

“Do you, um,” you start, ignoring the numbness of your tongue, “work from home?” You wave your hand at the paperwork by her seat.

“As often as my job lets me.”

“What do you do?”

“I’m a museum curator,” Kassandra beams, evidently proud of her job. “A glorified history nerd who couldn’t be fucked with the extra academia, basically.” You snort against the mug, nearly spluttering coffee over her. Smooth.

“What time in history?” Her eyes sparkle at the question, passion shining through her irises.

“Mostly the classics, ancient Greece and Rome and all that. But I did my thesis on the evolution of weaponry.” You prop your chin up on your hand as she talks, eyes lazily focused on her lips. If not for the conviction in her tone, you would have zoned out and chased some daydream about kissing those lips. Kassandra reclines back in her chair. “Enough about me, though. Tell me about yourself.”

“You sounded really passionate, though. I don’t mind if you keep talking about your job.” God, you sound like a dizzy schoolgirl who’s hot for teacher. You scald yourself with another sip of coffee in reprimanding.

Kassandra’s eyes twinkle. “I don’t usually invite beautiful women into my home to ramble about cool swords.” You blush and set down your coffee.

The two of you talk for quite some time, getting to know each other, peppering in the occasional flirtatious remark. In her company, you somehow simultaneously feel comfortable and skittish. She’s so relaxed and easy-going, but her physique and seductive demeanour fills your stomach with butterflies.

An irritated squawk cut your conversation short.

Kassandra shoots Ikaros a look before turning back to you. “Sorry about him.”

You shake your head. “It’s fine, really. Damn… What was I saying again?” you ask sheepishly.

Squawk.

“Nevermind, I was probably babbling anyway,” you dismiss, sipping on your now cold beverage.

Kassandra chuckles softly. “Don’t be silly, you have the voice of an angel. You could read me the dictionary and I’d still be interested.” She probably said this to every woman she took a liking to, but you can’t bring yourself to care, far too flustered and feeling, for once, special.

Squawk.

Her eye practically twitches in anger as Ikaros flies over to the windowsill, makes unwavering eye-contact with his owner, and shits on the wood.

Kassandra looks like she wants to be euthanised.

“My god,” she mutters as you burst out laughing. She awkwardly rubs the back of her neck and grimaces, mouth parted as if trying to form some kind of apology for her eagle’s behaviour.

“I’m guessing you’re used to being the only one doing the flustering?” you tease, trying to lighten the mood.

Her disgraced expression shifted back to a playful one. “If I say yes, do I sound like a whore?”

Grinning, you shake your head. “A little cocky, perhaps.”

“I’ll take cocky.” She winks and gets up. “Your coffee is probably cold, can I get you a fresh one?”

“Oh, no, thank you. I’m fine.”

“The finest,” she smirks.

“Real smooth,” you roll your eyes, smiling regardless.

Ikaros caws from the windowsill, as if mocking Kassandra’s advances. Once again, her effortless charm dissolves into a look of frustration. She grabs kitchen towels and a bottle of disinfectant from by the sink and walks over to the window, nudging the eagle so he’d move out of the way. “Maláka,” she groans, cleaning up the mess from the surface. “Μη μου το χαλάς αυτό,” she mutters to Ikaros, earning a confused look. Kassandra sighs. “Usually I wait until after the first date before introducing a beautiful lady to this little shit. That way people don’t immediately think I’m just a weird bird lesbian.”

Testing the waters, you remark, “I happen to quite fancy women with an affinity for animals.” You bite your lip and add, “And, well, you’re…very attractive.”

Smugly, Kassandra finishes disinfecting the windowsill and walks to the kitchen with a little more vigour, your compliment proving to be an ego boost.

Once again deprived of attention, Ikaros decides to flap over and join you at the table. Instinctively, you flinch as the large bird flies in your direction, but all he does is stare at you, trying to analyse the stranger in his home.

“Does – does he bite?” you ask, hesitantly standing up.

Kassandra discards the kitchen towel in the bin, washing her hands. “No, he’s very kind to everyone who isn’t me.” She flashes you a wicked grin. “I only bite when asked.”

Stammering, you choke on air, struggling to find a response. Ikaros gives her a disappointed look.

“Shit, too forward?”

You shake your head. “Not at all,” you blush. “I’ve just…never met anyone quite like you before.” Ikaros seemingly gives you a judgemental leer, and you swiftly find yourself adding, “I-in a good way, that is!”

“Oh?” Her brow is upturned, her interest piqued.

“It’s…exciting.” The eagle shuffles towards you and nuzzles your hand, apparently deciding you’re worthy of his affections. The dark feathers atop his head are surprisingly soft to touch. Smiling, you give his head a few pats, inhibitions to the wind when cute little coos vibrate from his throat. “I’m rambling, aren’t I?”

“I think it’s adorable,” Kassandra says softly.

You look up. “Really?”

“Really.” She joins the two of you and plucks a damson from the fruit bowl, feeding it to Ikaros while you pet him. “You’re the loveliest person to have ever set foot in this building, that’s for sure.”

Ikaros cocks his head in agreement. His beady eyes meet yours, damson juice dribbling from his beak. Do it, he’s silently telling you.

Screw it, let’s shoot our shot.

You clear your throat, mustering up some courage. “Are you free next weekend?”

Kassandra beams amorously. “I was about to ask you the same thing,” she grins. “How does dinner sound?”

Fuck yes. “Really good,” you blurt out excitedly.

“There’s this great Persian restaurant a couple streets over. I’ll book us a table?”

You gasp, having seen the building on the drive when you were moving in. “The place with the garden and the pretty lights, right?”

“That’s the one.”

“Sounds amazing.” Red in the face and heart pounding, your eyes dart about the apartment, fearing that you’ll combust if you look at Kassandra any longer. They settle on Ikaros, who gently butts his head against your hand, almost like a fist-bump. “Well, uh, I have a home insurance company to ring up, so I should probably get going,” you stutter.

“I won’t keep you, then,” Kassandra says, a tinge of disappointment in her tone. Ikaros squawks sadly.

“Thank you for the coffee.”

“It was my pleasure. Thank you for staying,” she winks. The eagle coos in agreement. You give him one last pat before walking to the front door.

“Oh, before you leave, there is something you should know…” Kassandra calls, moving over to you. She delicately takes your hand, frying your brain, and leans down to your ear. You feel faint. Lowly, she whispers, “…Our Hermes guy likes to drop-kick our parcels.”

Snorting, you look up at her in disbelief. I mean, what was I expecting? A kiss? Get a grip, woman. Kassandra laughs at your expression. “Use the amazon locker down the road instead.”

“You’re amazing,” you murmur, grinning. “I’ll probably see you before next weekend, but bye, I guess?”

“Chaire,” she bids softly, opening the door for you.

When the door closes behind you, you let out a ragged breath, excitement coursing through your veins.

You are so glad you moved here.

.

( The Greek clause is meant to say "Don't blow this for me" but I used 5 different translators and all 5 came back with slightly different things and I sort of ip-dip-doo'd it and chose one at random...sorry. )

[maria-scribbles]

we’re just like kevin bacon!

prompt: for @bricksatanakinswindow​ ‘s halloween writing challenge! this was initially inspired by "mortal enemies accidentally showing up in matching costumes every fucking year" but once i started writing it kind of snowballed from there and i ended up with this lmao

ship: jj maybank x fem!reader

word count: 4.6k+ (i think this is the shortest thing i’ve ever written lol)

warnings n stuff: childhood enemies to lovers, swearing, mention of underage drinking, halloween shenanigans, makin' out, smut (not too explicit but i still think it's spicy enough to need an 18+ warning), jj and the reader being cute lil nerds and quoting movies back and forth, the author blatantly using some of her personal favorite movies/shows as inspiration for costumes, the author also making her opinions on ghostbusters clear (instead of the human trash can peter venkman, stan the adorable dork known as ray stantz for clear skin)

a/n: this was hella fun to write and i already have so many more halloween fic ideas bouncing around in my head (it's spoopy season, y'all!). title of this fic comes from guardians of the galaxy 😊

Of three things in life you were certain.

One, you loved Halloween more than any other holiday of the year; after all, you and your twin brother Mason were born just after one AM on October 31st so you could say a penchant for all things spooky was in your blood.

Two, Sarah Cameron was your best friend. Being neighbors your whole lives, the two of you were thick as thieves and spent almost every day together, much to the annoyance of both your brother and hers; as much as you loved Mason, sometimes you wished Sarah was your twin instead of him and you knew without question the blonde girl would trade Rafe for you in a heartbeat (with little to no guilt, in fact.). 

And three, you absolutely hated JJ Maybank. You'd been at the top of each other's shit lists ever since you were both six years old, when he made fun of you for the stutter you'd had back then and you dumped a full milkshake over his head as payback, and even as time passed and you grew out of your stutter, your disdain for the blond pogue only grew stronger. He was infuriating, plain and simple, and the mere mention of his name made steam come out of your ears. 

The boy was just good at being annoying and seemed to love pushing everyone's buttons, yours especially, and always found ways to get under your skin without fail every single time your paths crossed (which was way too often for your liking, but running in the same friend group made it hard to avoid each other). It became an unspoken thing, the great Y/L/N-Maybank feud, with both of you trying your hardest to piss the other off until one of your mutual friends or your brother broke it up and pulled you to opposite corners of the metaphorical ring to take a breather before the next round.

You'd never admit it but deep down you kind of liked it. You liked being at the center of his attention (granted, it was antagonistic in nature but it was attention all the same), his bright blue eyes following your every move whenever you were within his sights and you liked that you were in his thoughts even when you weren't around, a fact proven to you by the tiny notebook Kiara carried around in her pocket recording how many times he mentioned your name. Knowing you lived rent free in his mind brought you an embarrassingly high level of satisfaction that you'd absolutely deny feeling if anyone ever asked, just as you'd deny the fact that he lived rent free in your mind, too.

...At least for most of the year. Everyone, including JJ, knew that to you Halloween was a damn-near sacred time. He knew never to mess with you during the weeks leading up to the holiday and definitely never on the day itself, lest he want yet another milkshake dumped over his blond head. He knew that, the whole damn island knew he did and yet...somehow, some way, he managed to get your blood boiling every. single. year. And you, like a masochistic idiot, let him. 

It all started when you were twelve.

You, Mason, and your friends were finally old enough to go to the annual youth party held on the sprawling lawn of the Island Club, an event you'd been looking forward to attending every Halloween since you were eight. Of course, you were excited for the dancing and games and food but the thing you couldn't wait the most for was the costume contest, a chance to show off your skills and prove to everyone on the island that Y/N Y/L/N was the undisputed queen of Halloween.

So what if your hopes were a little too high (considering you were only twelve and going up against kids ranging from your age to fifteen), you were still gonna give it your all; you spent weeks perfecting not only your costume but your brother's as well with your mom, helping her cut fabric and sew zippers, styling wigs and painting props until everything was perfect. 

"Oh my God, Y/N!" Sarah, dressed as Cinderella, yelled from the passenger seat of her dad's SUV when they swung by to pick you up. "You look amazing!"

"So do you!" You said, slipping into the back seat in between a miserable-looking Rafe as Sarah Sanderson ("I lost a bet," he explained with a scowl) and Mason, holding your mini R2-D2 on your lap. Was it kind of cheesy, dressing up as the most iconic twins in movie history? Probably, but you really didn't care because Leia Organa was a total boss bitch and Mason was practically over the moon that he got to be his ultimate silver screen hero and swing around his very own lightsaber as Luke Skywalker.

"The Force is strong with you two." Ward joked, earning an eye roll from both of his children as he drove to the Island Club to drop you off. Rafe immediately disappeared into the crowd to meet up with Topper and Kelce and the three of you went off to find your own friends, skirting around the edge of the party toward the snack tables, also known as the most likely place for them to be.  

You spotted Kiara first, looking like an actual princess in her Tiana costume and waved, smiling when she waved back and beckoned you over as she said something to Pope, dressed as Albert Einstein, that made him start laughing hysterically.

"What's so funny?" You asked, reaching between them to grab two handfuls of pretzels and immediately dropping one into your brother's outstretched palm, careful to keep the sleeve of your white dress away from the bright orange-iced cupcakes on the table. 

The two of them exchanged a look that instantly made you realize something was Up™ but before either of them could answer, Mason asked around a mouthful of pretzels, "Where're Tweedledee and Tweedledum?"

"J, why didn't we think of that?" John B's voice came from somewhere over your shoulder and when you turned to face him, you nearly dropped both the droid cradled in the crook of your elbow and the snacks in your hand. Not because of John B and his hilarious Chewbacca costume but because of the fact that JJ Maybank, the one person you hated the most on the whole entire island, was dressed as Han freakin' Solo. 

"Yikes." Someone muttered behind you -it sounded like Sarah but you weren't really sure- and Mason nearly choked on his pretzels as he tried and failed miserably to keep himself from laughing. 

"You've gotta be kidding me." You huffed, rolling your eyes as JJ crossed his arms and glared in your direction, blaster hanging from the holster on his hip.

"Listen, Princess, I'm not too happy about this, either."

"Oh, shut up, you nerfherder."

"Who you calling-" Mason and John B cut in and pulled you both in opposite directions before either of you could turn it into a shouting match, your brother physically grabbing you around the waist and carrying you off while the latter caught the back of JJ's vest and dragged him away. Despite their best efforts to keep you apart, you ran into each other more times than you could count and spent a minute or two squabbling like cats and dogs each time until one of them intervened once again. It was childish, it was immature, and it was fun, even though you'd never, ever admit it. Ever.

You didn't win the costume contest that year in the way you'd imagined at all. Still, first place in the group category was a win in your book and it felt good, even if one of the members of your unintentional Star Wars posse was someone who tested every bit of patience you had. The four of you split the cash prize and you went home 25 bucks richer, stashing it away for next year's costume and pushing the thought of accidentally matching with your mortal enemy from your mind. 

You had no idea this thing was only just beginning.

The next year, you let Sarah and Kiara convince you to match with them and the three of you rolled up to the party as the Pink Ladies -you as Rizzo, Sarah as Sandy, Kiara as Frenchy- only to run right into the boys, your brother included, dressed as the T-Birds. John B, perfectly in character as Danny, immediately whisked Sarah off to dance while Pope, the most adorably awkward Doody you'd ever seen, went to grab some snacks with Kiara, leaving you stuck with the bane of your existence as, of course, fucking Kenickie (Mason, as Sonny, dipped sometime before then without you noticing). The two of you spent the whole evening glaring at each other and hurling insults back and forth at breakneck speed, more in character than either of you'd ever want to acknowledge and for the second year in a row, you won first place in the group costume category.

At fourteen, you went as Princess Buttercup and JJ showed up as Westley, fake sword in hand as he followed you around all night like an annoying fly, sarcastically drawling "as you wish" every time you so much as glanced in his direction. Your brother, dressed as Inigo Montoya, nearly pissed himself laughing and you wanted to snatch both of their prop swords and shove them up their asses. You came in first again in the group costume contest and begrudgingly split the prize three ways. 

At fifteen, you worked hard on a Dr. Ellie Sattler costume from Jurassic Park, he strolled in as a disheveled Dr. Alan Grant with mud splattered boots and tattered clothes, and you really regretted not taking the offer to be the Tai to Sarah's Cher and Kiara's Dionne. Once again, Mason laughed so hard his face turned red and you were tempted to grab the sword he was holding and beat him over the head with it, not just for laughing at you but also for the completely atrocious Jack Sparrow costume he wore. To your absolute horror, you and JJ won the contest in the duo category and you wanted to melt into the ground when they called you onto the makeshift stage to collect your reward. 

When you were sixteen, you and your friends "graduated" to the party held for the older teens inside the club itself. With costume rules a little more lax than they were for the younger kids, you decided to go as (an only slightly sexy) Janine Melnitz, complete with a prop telephone you answered every so often with a loud "Ghostbusters, whaddya want?!" much to the embarrassment of Mason, who was once again dressed as Luke Skywalker, this time in the fatigues he wore while training on Dagobah in The Empire Strikes Back.

You strutted into the party in your heels and pencil skirt only to nearly fall flat on your face when you caught sight of JJ in a terrible black wig and glasses, proton pack strapped to his back and 'Spengler' printed on the front of his jumpsuit. Your brother winced when you all but screeched "Again?!" right into his ear and grabbed your elbow, dragging you over to an empty table and depositing you into an open chair.

"There's no way this is a coincidence anymore! He could've picked Venkman, with all the womanizing and lowkey being a creep and thinking he's God's gift to mankind? It would've been the perfect choice! He's not nearly adorable or dorky enough to be Stantz or sassy enough to be Winston-"

"Jesus, you have a lot of feelings about Ghostbusters," Mason muttered, rolling his eyes when you shot him a withering glare.

"Shut up! Listen to me, there's no way in hell Maybank randomly decided to be, out of alllll the 'Busters, Egon fuckin' Spengler, okay? He had to have somehow known I was coming as Janine and did it just to piss me off!"

Your brother heaved a deep, heavy sigh that made you want to smack him and fixed you with a deadpan stare. "Or, have you pulled your head out of your own ass long enough to think that maybe you're just becoming...predictable?"

You really did smack him then, hard on his exposed shoulder and he yelped, scowling as he rubbed at the red mark you left behind. "Ow! What the hell, bitch?!"

"Don't you dare call me predictable, you dickhead! I pride myself on my costumes being very unique and unexpected -you know, out of the box!"

"Hate to break it to you but they're not really out of the box if Maybank shows up in a matching one every single year." He said with an infuriating, shit-eating grin, patting your shoulder before straightening the plush Yoda strapped to his back. "I'm gonna go get some food, wanna come with?"

Still miffed at his comment, you shoved his arm away and glanced down at your lap, ignoring your brother's sassy "your loss" as he headed toward the snack tables. Not even a minute passed by before his empty seat was taken and you groaned when you looked up to see who it was, your eyes meeting a pair of bright blues behind tacky, oversized glasses. 

"Hi, Janine."

"...Egon."

The two of you sat in silence after that, watching the dancing crowd under the flashing neon lights and sparkling disco ball until you saw him turn to face you out of the corner of your eye.

"Why Janine?" 

"Huh?" You turned to face him, too, one eyebrow raised in a perfect arch as he gestured toward your costume.

"Why did you dress up as Janine, Y/L/N?"

"I've always liked her sassiness and 'I like to play racquetball.'" You offered a casual shrug of your shoulders and carefully stuck a finger under your wig to scratch an annoying itch above your ear. "Why'd you pick Egon, Maybank?"

"He's my favorite." He answered simply with his own shrug, shooting you a genuine, real smile that you, for who knows what reason, found yourself returning without a second thought. "Smart, hilarious -plus, 'I like to collect spores, mold, and fungus.'"

For the first time in your life, your eyes rolled out of amusement and not annoyance at something that JJ Maybank said and, to your complete surprise, it kind of felt...right. "Really? I'd have pegged you for a Venkman stan."

"Are you kidding? He's the worst!" 

Never in your wildest dreams did you ever think you'd sit across from your hated enemy, not only having a civil -hell, downright enjoyable- conversation but actually smiling right along with him, laughing at his jokes and doing your best to ignore the sudden flutter in your stomach each time you caught sight of his slightly crooked teeth when he grinned. You didn't even notice when your brother returned with Kiara, dressed as Moana, at his side and two heaping plates of snacks in his hands until his chair scraped gratingly across the hardwood floor. 

"Kie, are you seeing this? Pigs must be flying 'cause they're actually smiling at each other." Mason said, cackling as Kiara turned to squint out the window.

"Yeah, I think I see one or two soaring around out there." She giggled and sent a mischievous wink in your direction. With your face feeling like it was on fire, you flipped them both the bird and took off, disappearing into the crowd and leaving all your traitorous, confusing thoughts about JJ behind with the boy himself; it was Rafe's last party at the Club and he owed you a dance anyway, but even as your best friend's older brother, cute as hell in his Thor costume, playfully twirled you around the floor to the Ghostbusters theme song, you felt more than your partner's blue eyes on you.

To no one's surprise, you and JJ won the duo category for the second year in a row and when you joined him onstage to collect your prize and didn't feel like you'd rather die than be up there by his side, you suddenly realized you were only certain about two things in life instead of three. 

At seventeen, you were confident you and JJ wouldn't be matching for once (after last year, though, you were kind of thinking it wouldn't be that bad of a thing). You'd gone cult classic for your costume, pulling inspiration from your mom's favorite move, 1999's The Mummy, and put together a screen-accurate Evelyn Carnahan in her iconic black dress, including a handmade Book of the Dead and matching key. You blackmailed Mason with pictures of him, drunk as a skunk and dressed in your Janine costume from the previous year, and got him to go as Jonathan, complete with a pith helmet and prop bottle of The Glenlivet.  

But, as always, JJ managed to surprise you. You literally ran right into his chest and if it wasn't for his arms instantly wrapping tight around your waist, you would've bit it hard.

"Whoa, careful there," He said, one hand keeping you close while the other moved to help you hold the book in your arms. "'The Book of the Dead? Are you sure you wanna be messing around with this thing?'"

Of course he'd make the perfect Rick O'Connell, you thought as you playfully raised one eyebrow and curled your fingers around the strap of the gun holster draped over his shoulder. "'It's just a book. No harm ever came from reading a book.'"

Mason was a little too in character as well as he dramatically rolled his eyes and wandered off, muttering "puh-lease" under his breath and shooting Sarah a conspiratorial wink that you didn't see. The blonde girl glanced between the two of you -arms still around each other and identical smiles on your faces- and grinned. The party flew by in a blur of movie quotes, laughs, and more dances than you could count and by the time you made it home, 50 bucks in the pocket of your dress and another group costume win under your belt, you were almost positive you never actually hated JJ Maybank in the first place.

Now at eighteen, you pulled out all the stops for your last party at the Island Club. You'd spent the last few months slaving over your costume, sewing custom pieces, hand-crafting your prop, and spending way too much money on body makeup and a wig but when you saw the final product in the mirror, you knew it was all worth it. You were ready to slay the competition this year and take home first place for the final time.

Mason, indifferent as always about the contest but willing to do anything to keep those pictures from seeing the light of day, didn't protest one bit when you forced him into the matching costume you'd made for him -in typical Mason fashion, he liked that he didn't have to wear a shirt and could show off his muscles- and spent a few hours perfecting his makeup.

You felt on top of the world when you walked into the party that night as Gamora, a replica of her Godslayer sword in hand and skin painted a perfect shade of green, followed by your brother as Drax, already flexing for anyone and everyone looking his way. The rest of your friends came to win as well: John B and Sarah as Flynn Rider and Rapunzel, Kiara as Eleven, Pope as T'Challa, and, of course, JJ as Peter Quill, Baby Groot perched on his shoulder and twin blasters at his hips. 

"Lookin' good, Gamora!" He called over the music, shimmying his way over to you with some dance moves that would impress Star-Lord himself.

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Quill." You replied in a sing-song voice, even as you took his outstretched hand and let him pull you into the crowd of bodies hopping up and down to some terrible EDM beat under the twirling disco ball.

"It got you out here with me, didn't it?"

You rolled your eyes and hooked the sword to your belt before stepping closer and draping your arms around his neck, twirling your painted fingers in his hair. "Just remember, 'I know who you are, Peter Quill. And I'm not some starry-eyed waif here to succumb to your pelvic sorcery.'"

You should've known you spoke too soon the second you saw the spark in JJ's eyes that all but screamed 'wanna bet?'

And that's how you found yourself in the middle of the single hottest make out session you'd ever had the pleasure of participating in an hour later: back pressed against the locked door of someone's deserted office, legs wrapped tight around his waist and his hands hooked under your ass, both your sword and his blasters abandoned on the floor at his feet, and he was either a sinfully good kisser or trying really, really hard to blow your mind.  

"I'm not gonna end up green after this, am I?" He mumbled against your mouth before trailing his lips along your jaw and you breathed a laugh, tightening your grip on his hair.

"This is professional makeup, dumbass. It's gonna take more than some kissing to smudge it."

"I'm down for some smudging if you are." 

You pulled him back for another kiss in response and gasped into his mouth when he walked across the room, one strong arm reaching out to sweep whatever was on the desk to the floor before setting you down on it.

"Confident, are we?" 

JJ smirked at your breathless question and the way you hooked your ankles around the backs of his thighs to pull him closer. "So is that a yes to the smudging?"

"Just shut up and kiss me." 

He did -very well, you might add- and you kissed him back, untangling your hands from his hair to slide them under his jacket instead; you helped him push it off his shoulders and it had barely hit the ground along with poor Baby Groot before your fingers were tugging his shirt from the waistband of his pants.  

"Someone's impatient." He teased, leaning back just far enough to let you pull it over his head and toss it somewhere behind you.

"Someone doesn't know how to stop talking." You whispered your reply low in his ear and then trailed your lips down his neck, smiling in satisfaction at the tremble in his voice when you kissed the purple mark you'd left behind earlier.

"N-never was very good at that." 

"'You should've learned.'"

"'I don't learn, it's one of my issues.'"

One of his hands gripped your wig, pulling your head back a little roughly -you'd have so been into that if it had been your real hair he pulled- and you winced at the way the bobby pins holding it it place tugged painfully at your roots. "Ow, not so hard!"

"Wait, what the fuck? I thought you were wearing a wig!" 

"I am but it's still pinned to my actual hair!"

"Sorry, but how the hell was I supposed to know that?"

The sight of JJ's face slowly turning red made the butterflies in your stomach go haywire and so you just shook your head, mumbling "don't worry about it," before pressing your lips to his once again. He was gentler this time with the pulling and you dug your nails into his bare shoulders at the thrill of his mouth against the exposed column of your throat, leaning back further and further until you laid flat on the desk.

His fingers had just unbuttoned your pants when your phone started to ring from your pocket, blaring the Star Wars theme you had set as your twin's ringtone. 

"Mason's timing is impeccable," JJ said sarcastically, chuckling as you clamped a palm over his mouth and answered the call.

"What the hell do you want?"

"Jesus, no need to be pissy!" Mason loudly replied over the applause crackling through the phone's speaker. "I just thought you'd like to know that we just won best group costume with Maybank. Again." 

The blond winked at the mention of his last name and pulled your hand away from his mouth, pinning it to the desk beside you with one of his while the other started tugging your pants down over your hips.

"Oh, that's cool, Mase-" You inhaled sharply when his lips touched the edge of your underwear, so close to where you wanted him most but at the same time so far away, and your fingers held your phone in a white-knuckled grip. "But I-I'm kind of in the middle of doing someone -something!- right now."

"Smooth," JJ said, not even trying to be quiet as he released your pinned hand to finish pulling your boots off, along with your tight leather pants that he casually tossed aside. "And I knew you weren't green under these!" 

Your laugh quickly turned into a gasp when his fingers hooked under your panties and pulled those off, too, and the touch of his tongue against the skin of your inner thigh sent white-hot lightning racing through your veins; the phone slipped from your grip, falling with a clunk onto the desk as your fingers tangled in his hair and he lifted one of your knees over his shoulder.

"Okay, I'm hanging up now! I already know you're getting laid but I don't need to hear it." Mason's loud grumble drifted up through the speaker and if you weren't so preoccupied with the boy between your thighs doing some downright wicked things to you with his mouth, you might've noticed that your brother didn't actually sound that grumpy before he ended the call and your phone's screen went dark, right as you lost control of your voice.

"Fuck me."

"Funny, I thought that's what I was doing?" You felt more than heard his response against you and a shiver ran down your spine when his bright blue eyes flicked up to met yours in the dim light of the office.

"You know what I meant, Maybank."

"Trust me, Y/L/N, I know. Question is: where do you want me?"

You tugged on his hair, grinning wolfishly at the way his eyes fluttered closed and a low moan rose from his throat. "Everywhere in this damn room, starting right here."

"I was hoping you’d say that.”

- Back at the party, Mason looked up and met Sarah's gaze, both of her eyebrows raised expectantly as she asked, "Well?"

He took his time slipping his phone back into his pocket before giving her a quick nod, grinning triumphantly when she immediately burst into gleeful giggles.  

"Yes! I just knew they had a thing for each other! Mortal enemies, my ass."

"I think that was the very first time in my sister's life that she didn't give a shit about the contest." Mason said and reached over to snag a cookie from her plate, chuckling when she pushed his hand away from the chocolate chip ones and toward the peanut butter. "We couldn't have pulled this off without you. I mean, making sure they showed up in matching costumes every year? Genius, Sarah. Absolutely genius." 

The blonde girl grabbed her own cookie with a wink. "Think they'll ever figure it out?"

Your brother just threw his head back and laughed. "I hope not! I wanna save that story for my best man speech at their wedding."

taglist: @sinkbeneathwaves @cordeliascrown @maysbanks @jjpogueprincess @jiaraendgame @alexa-playafricabytoto @sexualparkour @agirlwholovescoffee​ 

[paellaplease]

Firebird | Chap.7

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6

I’m back!

Chapter 7: Of Monsters and Metals Part 2.

...but by the restless heart that refuses to falter.

*

   Contrary to popular belief, whilst she was well accustomed to it, years of sweaty work hadn’t endeared her to the less glamorous aspects of working in a forge. It was hot, and oftentimes stuffy, making water breaks important as the hours passed on and her arms began to tire. Working through the summer was unbearable, with no amount of mountain air able to cool the uncomfortable redness on her face and arms.

Whilst Teacher could walk around the forge like it was her second home, it took months of discipline for Maiya to tolerate the place. How ironic that it seemed to follow her everywhere like a rope tightly wrapped around her wrist.

Shifting in her seat, she was thankful that the constant exchange of air above Jackdaws had rid the forge of the usual sulfurous stench of burning coal. This quiet, unassuming workshop kept close between Wayra’s rock and stone, like a beating heart beneath living flesh.

....But of course it would take a miracle to completely filter out the unmistakable burning smell of hot steel and the lingering taste of metal on her tongue.

A small drop of sweat rolled down the back of her neck. If I close my eyes, she mused, it would be like I never left home. Her head lolled forward, the previous hour’s excitement catching up to her. It wasn’t everyday a Rito takes you flying.

She was sinking in her seat, a single voice one of the only things standing in the way between her and an impromptu nap.

“…almost impenetrable rock like bodies completely covered in ice! I have heard with enough prolonged contact they could also freeze exposed flesh in seconds. It’s incredible...”

Oh. Right.

It took all her might to peel her eyelids back open. Of all the challenges she was bracing herself to encounter from Rito Village, she didn’t expect ‘being lectured again in another forge’ to be one of them.

Yep, definitely just like home.

In the reddish glow of the forge, Uleh gesticulated with a graceful turn of a poised hand. The Zora appeared fresher than a daisy, a completed sword blade resting on the anvil next to them, gleaming almost as bright as their teeth. Where they got all their energy from after what would have been hours of gruelling work was one of the many greater mysteries of Hyrule.

They spoke words that, whilst probably important, unfortunately fell on deaf ears as the Enchanter dozed off. The heaviness of her eyes continued to fight her as they settled on a rough sketch of the monster. Drawn in haste, it appeared to be one big blob with two smaller blobs attached at its sides to act like its appendages. It was a literal rock. A giant, dangerous rock. Larger than a house, the Zora had said. She briefly wondered if Uleh was having her on.

Guess so long as we don’t get within arms reach it should be fine.

“I suppose we’re not befriending the Talus and escorting it back home?” An exasperated voice called from a corner of the room. Maiya leaned her head back, her brain supplying an upside-down image of Revali testing the balance of a Falchion on one of his wings.

“Unfortunately not, but how uncharacteristically nice of you, Master Revali." The Zora replied, evidently unbothered by the archer’s sarcasm. Propping their head up with a hand, their smile was natural. Easy. "Making friends with monsters? We should table it for a later venture.”

The blue Rito opened his beak to protest, but was cut-off again by the Zora’s ringing laugh. “Ahah, you may be onto something though. Managing to form a positive connection would make your jobs easier. I mean, since you’re getting up close and personal anyway.”

“Hmmm...yeah.” Maiya sat up and stretched.

A beat passed as her brain finally decided to process the last sentence. “Wait.”

“Not to worry. It shouldn’t be too difficult.” Uleh said, totally misreading her panic. They tapped the side of their skull for emphasis. “The ingredient should be in the ore poking out of its crown. You can’t miss it. It’s usually right at the top of its head.”

Years of accumulated dust motes floated into the air as the Hylian slammed both her hands onto the aged writing desk. She gripped the edges in shock, the hardwood creaking. “Sorry.” A breath. “Can you run that by me again? Starting at the part where you said this wouldn’t be difficult.”

Uleh caught the tipping candle-holder before it fell, saving their map from going up in flames. They tilted their head down to look at her, wide-eyed confusion making her feel a little guilty. “Forgive me Miss Enchanter, had I said something wrong?”

“No.” She huffed, refusing the need to anxiety-pace around the room. “I mean yes. It’s just...” It was ridiculous. This is crazy. “You’re saying that the ingredient is found on a sentient boulder that wants to kill me.”

Adopting the countenance of a wise sage imparting worldly knowledge onto their pupil, the Zora clasped their hands and set them gently on the shaking table. "Not quite a boulder. Picture it more as a hulking, moving, ah... mini mountain. Encased in ice.”

"And it wants to kill me."

"And it wants to kill you, yes.”

This was bad. She should say something. She could feel Revali’s eyes piercing into her back. Goddesses, Maiya. Get a grip!

Was talking to the Blacksmith really worth the risk of getting hurt? Forging swords, setting traps, and being semi-decent with her throwing knives for self-defence were nowhere near enough to qualify her as a monster-hunter. A rabbit, fine. But a rock monster more than quadruple her size? I must be delusional.

She scrubbed her face wearily. “What makes you think this is a good idea?”

“Well, I’m speaking to one of the last known Enchanters of Hyrule and the Pride of the Rito. Why, it should be a doddle with two living legends on the case.”

The two responses from said Enchanter and Rito came at the same time:

“I’m not a legend.”

“Pah, naturally.”

Maiya inhaled deeply. “Why don’t you help us fight it, then? Three against one would mean surefire success.”

The furnace behind them crackled, sending sparks into the air. It illuminated the iridescent shine of the zora’s scales, their many jewels glinting in the gloomy atmosphere of the forge. It was a little funny. In contrast to their surroundings, they looked like an angel who had wandered into the wrong afterlife.

Uleh mulled over her question, idly spinning the charcoal in their hand. Whilst their smile remained, there was a tenseness that wasn't present before. After a minute, they finally regarded her, golden eyes far away as they cleared their throat to reply. “It’s because—

A disgruntled sigh interrupted them. “Honestly, enchanter. Must I throw the rulebook at you? It’s rather shameless really, asking the other party to help fulfill your part of the agreement.”

Maiya whipped her head around, leaning back so fast her chair nearly tipped over. “Lecturing me on manners now? That’s rich coming from you, Rito.”

“Why, I don’t understand your meaning. I’ve been nothing but a gentleman this entire time.”

Running a hand through her unruly hair, she would have marched directly up to him to give him a piece of her mind if it wasn’t for Uleh holding her back. She whipped around to look at them, realizing she’d forgot to drop her glare when they nervously coughed and released their hold on her shoulder.

“Ah, um.” They idly ran a claw down the silver chain decorating the two flat fins that hung on the sides of their head like hair. “I’m sorry for interrupting whatever’s going on here. You’re both right, in a way. It’s logical that the chances of success would increase with extra hands. In fact, if I could lend you my aid I would, but…”

Shrinking back, they went quiet again, words bashful and barely audible. “I’m no good in a fight.”

Maiya stared at them quizzically. Growing up with Teacher had its many challenges. For one, the Sheikah could read most people with ease, be it a guilty child who had just scribbled on a newly painted white wall or even a fully grown, extremely stoic adult trying to cheat her out of what should be reasonably priced eggs. For a young Maiya, it made stretching the truth risky, and lying to her mentor out of the question.

Whilst she was no expert in body-language, spending most of her teenage years under her mentor’s watchful eye had taught her a few things about common tells. Maybe it was in the way the Zora’s golden eyes lost their gleam? Or in their sudden shyness. Either way, whilst they may have been sincere for most of the conversation previously, Uleh in that moment wasn’t telling the full truth.

She pressed the bottom of her palm to the aching spot above her brow. This was getting too complicated. Her chest ached from the stress. She winced when the rune bit at her skin. The pulse at her wrist felt strong under her fingers, beating out a warning call.

We’re wasting time. So what if they’re lying? Anything for Enchanting, right? Wasn't that the goal? To further or find what was lost whatever the price?

There was no point in turning back now. Pressing the issue wouldn’t change the fact that it would just be her, Revali, and this Talus tomorrow. If she wanted to meet the Blacksmith and actually have him listen to her demands, then this seems like the most direct option available. Beggars can’t be choosers, she already failed in uniting the Enchanted dagger with an owner. Teacher would never forgive her for letting go of a lead like this.

“Alright. Deal still stands.” She decided.

Standing up, Uleh raised their hands to the ceiling to stretch, the relaxed grin they had before returning to their face in full force. They leaned over the table, annotating a place in the map marking ‘West Rospro Pass’ before rolling it up and sealing it with a clip. “Well then, time and tide wait for no one.”

Maiya reached her hand out, jumping when a blue wing beat her to it, swiftly taking the map from the Zora’s hands.

Beside her, Revali rolled his shoulders. Seeing her annoyed expression, he lightly tapped the map on the top of her head, his feathers puffing up at his excitement to leave this hellish hot-box. “Careful, Hylian. Your face will get stuck if you keep frowning like that forever.” He said, poking her cheek with a pointed feather.

She couldn’t help the surprised squeak that escaped her mouth, Revali’s smirk growing even wider.

The fact that the feather pressed to her face was unbelievably soft pissed her off even moreso. She quickly swatted him away, face warming. “Buzz off,” she groused.

The Rito chuckled, but complied, withdrawing his wing to haughtily cross it with the other against his chest. “Tomorrow you’ll have front row seats to watch a true Master at work.”

The silence that followed made him sigh. He looked at her pointedly. “Would it kill you to be a bit more lively?”

“Yipee...”

“Amazing. Your sincere exuberance is truly heart-warming.”

She rolled her brown eyes as Uleh gave them both a thumbs up. The Zora's laughter, like chiming bells, filling the dark forge. It was infectious, and she couldn’t help but crack a tiny smile in return.

Perhaps tomorrow wouldn’t be so terrible after all.

   Birdsong greeted Maiya as the night sky slowly brightened into a lavender hue, the first signs of dawn peaking over the horizon. She tiptoed down the outer staircase of Swallow’s Roost, careful not to wake the travellers who rested peacefully on the other side of the wall.

She rubbed her eyes, fighting back a yawn. Wisps of smoke left the tops of chimneys, chefs and bakers preparing their iron cook pots for another working day of feeding an entire village and more. A gust of wind brought the scent of charcoal and firewood, acidic and earthy...

— Fire. Burning. Melting feathers and flesh. An arrow piercing skin and muscle—

The Enchanter pressed her knuckles into her temples, attempting to relieve the pressure forcing her head to burst. Another night, another terrible sleep in Tabantha. She knew this wasn’t normal; these night terrors. Her bones ached from hours of tossing and turning, waking up in a cold sweat and forcing herself to relax, only to be met with the same dream once again. Perhaps when all of this was over, a visit to the village healer would be a good idea.

However, against her better judgement, there was something invigorating about the new day. This was crazy; mad! Teacher would never have allowed it had she been in the same room when the decision was made. And perhaps that was exactly why her stomach felt like it was doing dumb, excited flips, her mouth turning up at the edges.

This was her chance to prove herself, show her mentor how dedicated she was to the cause and her studies. It was a little unorthodox, but she was sure Teacher would understand once she comes home with new information. In fact, she could omit most of the details from the letter anyway and leave in the non-life threatening bits that won’t cause any alarm.

She nodded to herself, hands tightening around a relatively empty backpack. She patted down her front and sides to check that she had what she needed. Throwing knives, waterskin, materials for basic first-aid, and a hammer and chisel from Uleh to help her collect the ore pieces later.

“That’s everything, I think. As well as…”

Her fingers froze as they brushed the raised embellishments on the enchanted dagger’s hilt, reality running up to slap her in the face. Hands curling around it, she felt a torrent of shame wash over her. What was she doing? This wasn’t the time to act like an overexcited child. This was serious, so much was riding on her getting this right. And her mentor wouldn’t be happy if she were to fail. Wait. Her stomach dropped. What if I do fail?

What then? She wondered. Would she even be alive to report the bad news?

Sighing, she forced her hand away from the dagger, turning to look beyond the railing and into the world beyond. If anything, at least it was a beautiful morning.

A voice appeared to her right. “And where do you think you’re going?”

“Hylia’s left tit— ! Cheska!” She all but screamed, grabbing the railing in a death grip.

The innkeeper tipped her head inquisitively when a brief spark of blue flashed in her eyes.

“Uh!! Hello!” Maiya floundered. She hid her hand behind her back, feeling sweat build on her brow when Cheska’s eyes followed the action. “G-good morning. If this is about the late dinner you brought up last night, thank you so much! It was really, really good.”

She swallowed her spit, her nervousness still bubbling. “Not to say that your food isn’t always good. It’s just that I rarely eat fish. Not to say fish isn’t delicious. It’s just that where I live in Akkala we’re not really close to the sea so— ”

“Hylianlla! Slow-down.” The Rito laughed. “Jeez you are jumpy today. Take a deep breath. That’s it. In and out. Before the wind snatches it away— ah, I sound like my mother."

Cheska smiled warmly. Her rounded golden earrings reminded Maiya of two small suns, catching the light as she idly transferred the small paper package she held from one wing to another. “No worries, silly chickie. I’m always happy to feed a hungry traveller.”

The Hylian nodded, taking this as a sign that the conversation was over. She stepped to the side, moving to shuffle around the innkeeper, only for the Rito to block her path once again.

“However!” Her eyes sparkled. Maiya had a bad feeling about this. “What have you been up to yesterday that led to being dropped off by a mysterious and handsome blue-feathered stranger with the famous Great Eagle Bow?”

The Enchanter made a face. She was not mentally prepared to be having this conversation. “I can confirm that it’s not whatever you’re cooking up in that head of yours— and please stop wiggling your eyebrows!”

In an effort to distract herself from the blush that was snaking up her neck, her eyes strayed to the pink and orange sunrise above them, the clouds moving across the sky like white rolling waves. “As to what I’ve been doing. Well...not much really. Read a few books at the Archive. Got a tour of the village. Had a fight with the local blacksmith that led to striking a deal with the Zora that lives in the depths of the ancient rock supporting all of us right now.” She cringed at how crazy it sounded. “Did you know that by the way?"

“Uleh? Duh, they pass by from time to time.” She idly brushed a wing down one of her earrings. “We have the best chats. But tell me more about this tour!”

Despite the stress weighing on her mind, the Enchanter laughed, digging her hands in her pockets. “Of all the things...judging from your description I think you already know who this mysterious stranger is. Wouldn’t recommend it, but he’s all yours.”

“He’s all…” Cheska paused, voice breaking. She stood still, expression rapidly switching from confusion, realisation, to deep and feather-raising mortification.

Tilting forward, she began to giggle. Maiya stepped back in surprise, watching it transition into full blown laughter. “Uh, Cheska?”

The Rito doubled over and slapped a wing over her beak. “Revali?! Ha HA! Qoyllur-cha?” She sucked in a shaky breath, before dissolving into peals of incredulous laughter once again. “Heck no, amiha. I’m sure Mr. Grumpy is well and truly enamored with himself anyway.” The innkeeper wiped a tear from her eye. “Ah, Blessed Nayru. You’re a hoot!”

“Right,” Maiya said slowly, cheeks reddening at her social blunder. “Are you finished yet?”

“Yes,” the Rito snorted. “Okay I’m done. For real. I’m sorry!”

Forcing herself to keep a straight-face, Cheska shook her head, composing herself. “Goddesses. You just caught me by surprise is all. I’m recovering after an old friend showed up to the village yesterday. Big fiesta, great fun even though I couldn’t stay too long.

Jini brought out the good pisco this time.”

She smiled at Maiya’s blank expression, unperturbed by the lack of an equally excited response. Stepping back, she offered the Hylian the package she’d been holding on to. “Anyway, on a completely unrelated note, that mysterious blue Rito stopped by to leave this for you before dawn this morning.”

The Enchanter looked at the brown-paper package. She wondered if it was a good time to open it, but could feel Cheska’s poorly hidden curiosity bearing down on her. Might as well. Without much hesitation, she pulled on the thin rope holding it together.

A piece of cloth fell into her waiting hand.

It was a bandana. Dyed an azure blue, it reminded her of clear summer skies and the blue nightshades that glowed in her mentor’s study. Running her thumb over the soft fabric, she found that whilst it was simple and unpatterned, it was soft and very well-made. Unfolding it, a delicate piece of paper fell out, fluttering to the floor before she caught it.

She smiled, wondering if this was the prideful Rito’s version of an apology. Unbeknownst to her, her heart warmed at the thought.

Maiya quickly read the note:

So your haphazard hair doesn’t endanger us today - Revali.

The Hylian scowled, crumpling the message and stuffing it in her pocket. “Why am I so surprised?” She muttered. Despite her ire, she delicately smoothed out the blue bandana in her hand, pulling it around her hair and knotting it with irate conviction.

Saying a quick “Thank you and Good Morning” to the innkeeper, she began to angrily brisk walk up the village stairs.

Cheska waved her goodbye. “And where are you off to now, hylianlla?”

“I’m going to fight a Frost Talus.” She called over her shoulder casually.

“You’re what?!”

“Bye, Cheska!”

Revali was already waiting for her at the top of the stairs. He tapped his talons on the ground, leaning impatiently against the archway. The armour he had on the day they first met was fitted securely around his form, slightly hidden away by a flowing white scarf wrapped snug around his neck.

His back was to the sun, making it necessary for her to shield her eyes as she approached. Whilst there was no royalty amongst the Rito, he looked every bit like an irritable prince as light streamed from the heavens behind him.

His honeyed, infuriating voice called out to her as soon as he saw her hand leave the banister.

“You’re late.”

Maiya wordlessly tossed an object at him, the Rito Warrior snatching it from the air with ease. He looked down at the warm pastry that nearly hit him in the face, its icing topping and cinnamon scent unmistakeable. “A sweetroll?”

“Breakfast.” The Enchanter said, falling into step beside him as they walked down the ramp and onto the expansive launch point. The breeze was strong from this open landing, the battered wind markers around them whipping chaotically in the open air. These were the kind of conditions favourable to sailors, carrying amazing wooden creations to places unknown.

And I guess Rito as well, she thought, narrowly avoiding a tall, orange-feathered figure that landed a few feet away. Maiya righted herself, nearly stumbling backwards in surprise.

"Sorry, chika!" They called out, stepping around her quickly and making a beeline for the stairs.

The Hylian looked on in bewilderment, tugging a little self-consciously on her bandana as she turned back to face the archer. “What the...ah, anyway. I was on my way here when I realised I hadn’t eaten yet. Decided to stop by the bakery.”

Revali took a bite from the roll, making a small hum in approval before reaching into the utility pouch attached to his belt. Pulling out a glass vial, he passed it to the Enchanter. “My thanks then, as well as your payment.”

“What’s this?” She asked, narrowing her eyes at the vermillion liquid within. She uncorked the stopper and took a whiff of the unknown substance. It was pungent and sharp, making her pull away.

“Spicy Elixir. So you, pardon my bluntness, avoid freezing your pointed ears off whilst we’re traversing through the mountains.”

Maiya smelled it again, wrinkling her nose.

Revali tut-tted, though his eyes gleamed with barely hidden amusement. That bastard. “I don’t want to hear any complaints. The arctic chill is merciless. You need to drink it if you plan to keep all your limbs intact.”

She looked at the Spicy Elixir again, watching the dubious liquid slosh to the side—Oh Hylia, is that a butterfly wing?— before throwing it back as one would a shot. The warmth that came was instantaneous, as if an invisible force had suddenly encased her. It wrapped around her in the same way a blanket that had been left to heat close to the fireplace would. She was filled with a renewed sense of energy and realised then how cold her joints really were even in her heaviest of clothes.

Revali chuckled.

She opened her eyes, the curve of her mouth falling into a frown. “Care to share?”

“Not that I was speaking any falsehoods regarding the warming effects of the elixir but,” he smiled crookedly, shaking his head. “You trust too easily, Hylian.” Securing his bow to his front, he faced north and crouched.

Her brow twitched. “Me? Trust you?” Maiya shot back defensively as she hoisted herself up, minding this time not to grab on too tightly onto any feathers. “When Death Mountain freezes over.”

   Deep breaths and reign in the attitude was what she told herself as they left the landing. The drop still terrified her, her chest sinking to her knees everytime Revali so much as bobbed with the wind. She was thankful at least that the weather was favourable enough that he chose to forego the dive. Instead, he caught the gale with his outstretched wings, flapping and gaining height as they progressed forward.

Some adventurers on horseback looked up as they passed, many of them gaping in awe at the blue feathered warrior who sailed above them. Revali made no comment, head facing forward and beak an impassive line. Though the subtle fluff to his feathers gave him away, betraying the fact that he was basking in the attention.

Behind her, Rito Village became smaller with every passing minute, slowly disappearing behind the clouds until even the largest windmill was but a wink in the distance. Glittering waters turned into grassy forests as flat ground made way to grey rocks and white tipped bushes.

Revali’s wings caught a strong gust of wind, gaining speed as he advanced them forward through to the Hebra Mountains. Clouds parted, the white shroud slowly lifting to reveal a whole different world.

She felt like they were flying amongst giants. White capped peaks dominated the landscape from all directions, filling her peripheries and extending out into the distance. Reduced visibility combined with the blinding ivory void made it seem like it could go on forever. She’d never seen mountains like this before.

The wind also sounded different here. She would have thought that as a Rito, perpetually at mercy to the gale, he would find it troubling. Between these icy mountains it was wild and unruly, every gust pushing into them from different directions. However, as they ventured deeper into Hebra, it became apparent that Revali felt no fear.

If the breeze slammed into them at full force, he always knew just how to angle himself. Tilting, flapping, flying—anything to propel himself higher and further than ever before.

When it rebelled, he would soothe it. When it dropped away, he would easily reclaim it.

And when it calmed, a steady push against his wings, he would truly soar.

It was a literal breath of fresh air. Maiya could have sworn she was dreaming, still asleep in her room at Cheska’s inn. Up in the air, Revali was far from the gloating asshole who had nearly killed her with an arrow and never apologised. At this moment, he was quiet and precise, riding the gale like he was born amongst the clouds.

They flew behind one of the many snowy peaks, an empty mountain pass coming into view. Keeping close to the exposed mountain face at their left, Revali began to slow, aiming for a far-away spot jutting out perpendicular to the cliffside.

Landing on a slab of extended rock, he gestured for her to sit down, surprising her when he did the same.

The Hylian tried not to look down. They were suspended about 50 feet above the ground. Wind sifted through her hair, dancing around them and lightly ruffling the feathers along his side. She took this time to catch her breath, the mountain air surprising her with its sweetness. Vaguely she could detect the scent of the pine sticking up like pillars in the pure-white snow underneath them.

Temporarily shutting her eyes, she focused on her other senses. Cold rock underneath her fingers. Whistles from the wind. The smell of the pine trees mingling with something else. Wax and oak, with a hint of honey. She racked her brain for a reason why such an odd combination was now familiar to her.

Something cold touched her nose.

Maiya opened her eyes. She watched as snowflakes fell from the sky, imprinting temporary patterns on her clothes and melting on her exposed skin.

Then, like most times, panic decided to reel in its ugly head from out of nowhere.

Now seated and breath returning to her lungs, deep trepidation filled her. One scenario came after another, joining together and mixing into a single, big clusterfuck of a ‘what-if?’ What if she couldn’t fight? What if her knives never found purchase?

What if she froze? She could see the moment playing out clear as day. The fear would paralyze her. Glued to the ground with an angry Talus rushing towards her. Stuck in place until she was crushed underfoot like a bug.

“Stop that.”

Maiya turned to see that Revali had taken out his bow, running a feather down the gears. It was an intricate weapon, painted a steadfast dark-blue and embellished with geometric patterns along its sides.

“Stop what?”

“Thinking so loudly.” He explained, grunting with effort when he tightened a screw.

Her eye twitched in annoyance at his tone. Must he always pick a fight with me? She frowned indignantly. “I’m not allowed to plan ahead?”

“You call that planning?" He scoffed. "Don’t fool yourself, enchanter. I’m not blind. You’re running your mind ragged again, overly ruminating on imaginary events that have yet come to pass.”

He began to adjust the bow’s string, running a feather down its side. “If you continue looking behind only to lose your head in the endless possibilities of potential threats, then you are defenseless to the already existing enemy running towards you. Expecting to survive like that is foolish. You will be better off fighting with your eyes closed.”

He set the bow down on his lap, training his full attention onto her. Her breath hitched. She found herself at the mercy of eyes a deep, emerald green. Piercing and sharper than any of the knives she was carrying, not a single detail escaping his notice.

“You will not be able to face your opponent effectively if you keep battling yourself. Truly look at what’s in front of you. Do that properly, and you will not miss.”

The Enchanter was silent, still feeling very much pinned under the intensity of his gaze. He’d only known her for a day or two and had already managed to find the holes in her armour, striking at them with such precise accuracy that she didn’t know whether she should thank him for the honest assessment, or push him off the ledge for his blatant rudeness and reading of her character. Her hand twitched as the rune sent a jolt up her arm, dancing along to the erratic beat of her heart.

But why…, she found herself wondering, unable to stop herself from staring back. Unknowingly, she leaned forward ever so slightly, flecks of snow falling around them. Why is he looking at me like that?

The mountainside shuddered, making them both jolt up in surprise. Hurriedly, she rushed to the edge of the short rock platform, the tension on her shoulders tightening in a vice grip at what she saw below.

It was colossal. Terrifying to the point where it almost crossed over the line to awe-inspiring by the sheer characteristic of its size. Rising from the earth, it shook and shuddered as if possessed, hobbling forward and slamming its gargantuan stone fists into the snow covered forest floor with so much force that it shook the mountain and their platform once again. From her vantage point, she could see the piece of ore at the top of its head, sparkling in the morning light like a jewel on a crown.

When the Talus’ hands came away from the ground, Maiya saw that they were coated in red. Not blood, she thought, too pink and thick. Though the longer she looked, she noticed the same pinkish red substance coating its body in different places. On its bare face, along its leg, all across its rock appendages. It flowed and bubbled, creeping along the Talus’ body like a parasitic weed, dripping like acidic rain and melting the pure white snow below.

Uleh did not mention that.

She coughed, her throat suddenly dry and scratchy. “I think that’s our target.”

Revali exhaled a small cloud of air, unbothered. “Hm? That’s new. I thought we would have to lure it up from the ground. Seems it has done most of the work for us.” He pointed to the quiver of arrows on his back, some arrowheads curled and shaped to resemble a single flame. “It will go down easy with a few of these in its body. After all, a monster that relies solely on a barrier of ice stands no chance against the blaze of fire.”

He stood up, brushing the snow from his shoulder, a futile gesture as more began to rain down anyway. “No rush, it won’t be able to see us from up here.” He tapped the rock floor with his talons. “It uses the vibrations in the ground to make an ‘educated’ guess as to where its victim would be. From our vantage point, it’s like we don’t even exist.”

She tilted her head to the side, watching the Talus amble and sway from left to right, still feeling apprehensive at how relaxed Revali was in this situation. Warriors really are something else.

He brought the bow to his front, stretching his wings to the sky like he was about to go for a leisurely run and not, well, fight a rock monster that would crush you if you so much as sneezed on it. “Well then, enchanter. I do hope this seat provides you with an adequate view for the show this morning. Just sit back and get comfortable.”

Maiya stood and stalked towards him, not caring that she was invading his personal space as she stabbed a finger into his chestplate. “Get comfortable? What are you talking about?”

He took advantage of the height difference, looking down at her past the tip of his beak like he was appraising a petulant child. “You honestly believe I would let you fight that thing?”

She wanted to rip her hair out. “This venture is purely for my benefit, I am not letting you do all the dirty-work while I sit on my ass and watch like some useless piece of shi-”

The ground shuddered again. Both barely had time to react when a boulder was sent flying in their direction.

She blinked, suddenly finding herself gripping onto Revali’s front as they hurtled to the ground below. The Rito Warrior somersaulted in the air, the seconds of uncontrolled flight and pure free fall eating up the scream bubbling in her throat.

Then, his wings were outstretched, miraculously by the Goddess' grace catching the wind, slowing their descent before they hit the snow covered ground with a painful thud.

Her brain rattled, eyes fluttering and struggling to clear the fog blocking her vision. Her ears rang as she heaved in a breath, the very action making her cry out in pain. Her ribs hurt. Her hand...her hand was—!!

Shattered rocks rained above them. The Enchanter yelped, Revali’s voice loud in her ear as he gasped in alarm, wrapping his wings around her and rolling them to the side just as a large chunk of what used to be their platform stabbed into the spot where their bodies were half a second ago.

The Rito released his hold on her, standing up and equipping his bow in a single fluid motion. Through the haze of her clouded vision, she watched as he took aim, pulled the bowstring back and fired.

It surprised her how a monster without a mouth could make such a chilling sound. Cracking rock and a screech so glaringly inhuman reached her ears, making her blood run cold.

There was truly no turning back now.

In the next moment, her arm found itself in a vice grip as Revali hauled her to her feet, pulling her along as they sought cover in a nearby sparse grove of trees. Chest heaving, her brain struggled to catch up to what had just transpired. Barely, it managed to process the feeling of blue feathered wings running down her arms, tilting her head from left to right and brushing the hair away from her eyes.

“W-what are you doing?”

“Checking for injuries.” He said tersely. “Where are we?”

“Huh?”

Head snapping up, his eyes once again commanded her undivided attention. They were the same emeralds as before, except this time completely void of any kind of relaxed confidence, replaced now by a sharp focus and a clinical detachedness that made her stomach clench. “Hylian, do you know where we are right now?”

“Rospro Pass.” She said, remembering the words on Uleh’s map.

“Good. Did anything hurt when we were running towards the trees?”

Maiya blinked quickly. “No. Oh, well actually— fuck!” She screamed, hands slapping Revali’s wing away as she pulled her arms in to wrap around her aching torso. Her left hand shook and spasmed, strings of energy rattling through her veins like barbed wire cutting into her skin. This was too much. Mortifyingly, tears sprang up in the corner of her eyes. She’d been through much, much worse, but no matter how many times her rune had tortured her, pain is no different. Feeling something stuck in her throat, she spat it out to the side, a glob of fresh blood hitting the snow.

“Sorry,” Revali said quickly. “I need you to move your arms away.” With a little more prying, she agreed, too caught up in her panic for herself and the active and angry rune in her hand to feel embarrassed that he was lifting up the edge of her shirt, his wing poking the reddened, inflamed skin above her ribs as she hissed.

“One of them is fractured, but not severe enough to pierce the skin or anything important internally. At least from what I can see. Can you take some short breaths for me?”

She nodded, wincing at the sound of her wheeze.

“Then you’ll live.” Both their heads shot up to the direction of the same otherworldly screech from before, echoing not too far away from their current position. “Tch,” the Rito archer straightened up, reaching into one of his side pouches and pulling out a wide bandage. He made quick work of wrapping it around her middle, tying the knot and yanking her shirt back down. “You need to run away, enchanter. Follow the path down the mountain, there’s a guard post at the foot. Tell them to bring reinforcements.”

She glared at him, eyes red and venomous. “No! Not without you. I already told you, Rito, this is my mess and I am seeing it through.”

“We don’t have time for this,” he muttered, frantically scanning the clearing for some other kind of cover and coming up blank. “I’m still unsure as to what it is, but there is something wrong with this Talus. I’ve fought only two previous but I am confident that this one is different. It’s faster—smarter somehow.”

“And it can see us.”

“Yes, either through sheer dumb luck or something else entirely. Its movements are unpredictable. Almost like it’s being controlled from the sidelines.” He gritted out, annoyance shining clear at having to solve such a puzzle under immense pressure. He swiped the fallen snow away from his eyes, growling.

She directed her gaze to the floor, focusing on the patch of red seeping into the snow by her feet. Her blood was a stain against what was once uniform purity. Another roar echoed through the trees, this time accompanied by the crash of heavy footsteps, dragging through the snow. “I know you’re one of the best of your people, but even then there’s no way you can hold it back for that long without getting hurt.” She tried to reason.

Revali shook his head, squeezing her shoulder before turning to bolt past the grove. “I’ll distract it. Run!”

“Wait!” She reached out to pull him back, but her hand was met with only empty air. Pure dread stole the breath from her lungs as she watched him exit out the trees and into the open clearing where the Talus waited to meet him. Another jolt of pain rocketed through her hand. Combined with the stabbing ache in her chest it was almost unbearable. She inhaled shakily, moving forward and following the tracks that Revali’s talons had made on the ground, fighting for her eyes to stay open as she stumbled out into the light.

Snow lightly fell from the sky, brushing down azure feathers that fluffed at the edges as Revali levelled his bow. He fired three in quick succession, cutting a red line through the air like a shooting star. Each sunk into the Talus’ icy exterior, melting patches with a low hiss and exposing the black rock underneath.

Falling forward, the monster sunk back into the ground. Revali took advantage of the situation, sprinting away towards the cliff face to gain more distance.

Maiya took this chance to move as well, footsteps sinking into the snowy ground as she struggled forward in the direction of the Talus. The ground shuddered again as she launched herself at it, a knife in each hand. She dug the blades into its exposed interior, holding on for dear life as she scrambled to gain purchase.

“What are you doing?!” A frantic, angry voice yelled out.

“Fire more arrows!” Bracing her feet on the Talus’ surface, she took a chance and let go of one of her improvised hand holds, grabbing another knife from her bandolier and swinging it up to stab it into the last open patch of rock. She hoisted herself up, screaming out in agony but nonetheless refusing to let go. “Please!” She called out, feet slipping against the rock’s surface.

Something whistled past her ear. An arrow embedded itself into the space above her, rapidly evaporating the ice. Then came another, and another, marking a pathway up to the Talus’ zenith. Again she freed her opposite hand, fractured ribs shifting and aching as she stabbed a dagger upwards, pulling herself closer to the ore.

The strange parasitic pink substance flowed down next to her, emitting a stench of rot that made her gag. Carefully she maneuvered around it, not wanting to find out for herself what would happen if even the skin of her hand were to brush it.

Continuing to climb, she struggled against another monster, one intent on taking full control of her wavering resolve. It was a beast formed of intense fear and regret, tugging at her mind and causing her hold to grow shakier with every passing minute. Why didn’t you run away?! It roared.

The thud of another arrow spurred her forward, her adrenaline running high as she devoted her focus solely to reaching the top.

Almost there. For a moment, she could finally see the ore’s surface, shining only an arm’s length away from her. Maiya reached again for her bandolier, shaking fingers brushing an empty pocket.

“Fuck sakes,” she cursed. She was out of knives.

Clouds of air escaped her mouth as she leaned her head on the monster’s surface, an intense feeling of hopelessness freezing her movements. Everything felt heavy, the swinging scabbard at her hip weighing her down and threatening to weaken her hold on her knife.

Wait, there’s still...

Her hand drifted down to where the enchanted dagger was sheathed. In response, the rune spasmed, sending a shock through her veins in disagreement as if it knew exactly what she was going to do.

Not once did Teacher mention what would happen if she were to use an enchanted weapon of her own make. She was neither Master nor an unworthy stranger. So many things could go wrong. Would it kill her? Would it even work? What would happen if—!

Underneath her, the Talus shuddered.

Her heart skipped a beat.

Slowly, the surface began to move, lifting itself from the snow. All around her, the parasitic fluid coating its body came alive, calling out in celebration. Several arrows rained down from the sky, piercing into the Talus’ armour but failing to deter it from its course. The monster began to stand.

Maiya unbuckled the enchanted dagger from its scabbard. Grabbing the hilt, she lifted it up, and with all the strength in her body, swung up and stabbed it into the Talus’ ore.

There was a flash of light, an ear piercing screech, and suddenly she was in the air again.

It was like a bad dream. She could see the white ground hurtling towards her. Curling into herself, she braced just in time before her body collided with the snow. Something solid hit her head, rattling her brain and causing her world to turn black.

.

.

.

Wa…ke…!

Fire. Everything was on fire. She was drowning in a sea of fleeing people, ribbons of smoke were filling her lungs and the smell of burning and rot was choking her. A blood moon was in the sky.

Wa...ke….p

A figure was standing at the doorway of a crumbling house, calling out to her. Their feathers were burnt, dissipating into ashes as the skin underneath began to melt to the bone.

“I’m sorry, there are too many people!” She tried to scream, voice refusing to leave her lips as she fought helplessly against the tide. “Don’t just stand there! You need to run! I can’t— ”

A lilting voice, warm as sunlight, whispered in her ear.

“Hylianlla. Please. Wake up.”

.

.

.

In a disorienting second, her surroundings slammed back into place. Maiya sucked in a shaky breath, her cheek throbbing. Cold snow melted underneath her, seeping into her clothes and stinging like a thousand needles pressing into her skin.

The ground began to shake. A familiar voice was calling out to her. “Get up! Valloo damnit, enchanter! Stand!”

Every vein, every cell and atom in her bruised body cried out. She wanted to go back to sleep. This was too much.

Weakly, she rolled onto her stomach, the pain in her ribs causing her eyes to snap open. Coughing, she spat more blood onto the snow, her arms and knees shaking as she slowly began to stand.

She’d been thrown into the midst of an earthquake. Dazed, her head lolled upwards, watching in frozen horror as the Talus barrelled towards her, its heavy steps falling in time to the shuddering of the world underneath her feet.

Behind it, Revali furiously loosed arrow after arrow. Not one missed their mark, but not a single shot had managed to melt through its ice encasing. Belatedly, she realised that the archer had run out of fire arrows. The odds were stacked against them.

Yelling, she threw herself to the side, dodging a giant rock hurled in her direction. Desperately, she scrambled back onto her feet, avoiding one stone after another by the skin of her teeth. The monster continued to gain on her, quickly closing the distance between them.

Maiya blinked away the sweat from her eyes, the fear in her heart that had kept her alive for this long gradually losing its hold over her to the pull of fatigue. If she devoted herself to running, she wouldn’t be able to avoid the Talus’ attacks. If she slowed her run to focus on dodging, it would catch up to her in seconds.

I’m not going to make it.

Mind reeling, she didn’t notice the rock jutting up behind her. She tripped, falling face first into the snow. The monster shrieked in delight. Shaking violently, she tried to stand again, falling back down as the muscles in her legs seized from overuse.

The Talus was but a metre away at this point. Even if she tried, she wouldn’t be able to outrun it. A rare moment of peace settled over her as she slowly stood up.

If she were to die here, she wouldn’t die lying down.

As the monster approached, she managed to catch the glint of her enchanted dagger still embedded into the cracking ore. It was uncontrolled, spewing out flames in an unfettered act of rage. Her greatest creation was violent and angry, but the Talus remained unshaken. It would take days for it to make a noticeable dent.

What have I done?

Standing her ground, she watched as the Talus raised its fists to the sky, blocking out the sun as it readied itself to slam down and put an end to her life. She didn’t know what to think. Light escaped from the seams of her glove, the rune all but bursting into flames. Hylia, did it hurt. But it didn’t matter. This would all be over soon.

She kept her eyes open, making a quiet wish somewhere deep in her tired soul that despite all the odds stacked against them, Revali would escape.

A streak of red sailed through the sky.

Equal parts shocked and horrified, Maiya watched as the Talus’ movements suddenly came to a halting stop. All reality slowed. Rock arms, once raised high as a terrifying monument to her mortality, dropped to its sides as it turned around.

Facing completely away from her, the monster directed its attention to the Rito archer behind it, revealing to the Enchanter the single fire arrow protruding from its back.

Revali dropped his bow, every one of his arrows completely expended. Out of options, he unsheathed the hunter’s knife strapped to his belt, gripping it tightly between both his wings. “Hey, blockhead!” He called out, beak curved up in a mocking, open smile. “Face me.”

The repulsive pink parasite bubbled and writhed, releasing a vile, high-pitched wail. Its host shuddered to life, starting forward and dragging its hulking body along the snow in the direction of the Pride of the Rito.

Her body moved on its own.

West Rospro Pass melted into a mess of sound and colour. The pain that rippled through her chest, the frustration, the fear; all of it blended together and were cast aside as every fibre in her being rallied and converged on a single goal.

Nothing mattered beyond Getting. There. First.

Bringing her hand to her mouth, she sank her teeth into the glove, ripping it away. Energy sparked and crackled underneath her skin. Beams of blue light spilled from her scar, warming the surface of her cheek and begging for release.

“YOU STUPID BIRD!”

Revali lifted his head, green eyes stunned when he saw the Hylian sprinting closer.

The earth trembled as the Talus neared. In a last ditch effort she grabbed the Rito by his white scarf, yanking him behind her and placing herself between him and the path of the monster.

It was only steps away now, close enough for her to feel the chill of the ice on the tip of her nose. Operating on pure instinct, she raised her left arm, trying not to flinch as the shadow of the Talus’ form fell over the both of them.

Panic seized her unexpectedly. She was dumped into the ocean again and rapidly sinking, struggling to keep her head above the waves as the storm thrashed mercilessly around her.

Caught in the undertow, she fought to stay afloat.

This is my fault.

I did this.

I can’t let him die.

I can’t let him die!

I can’t—

Someone held her shoulder. Warm breath fanned the hairs on the back of her neck. Revali’s voice, lacking its usual sardonic edge, was but a gentle whisper on her skin, piercing through the water and pulling her up from the depths.

“Maiya.” He said, grounding her.

Without another thought, she plunged her glowing arm into the core of the Frost Talus. The parasite screamed and thrashed in alarm. For the first time in her life, she allowed herself to let go, letting the pull of the rune take over.

Her outstretched hand sunk past the ice with ease, beams of blue light escaping through the cracks of the rock and illuminating the Pass.

In mere seconds, her vision was full of nothing but fire. The Frost Talus, in its unfathomable enormity, was lost and overtaken in the light of the flames.

[theimpossiblescheme]

A Very Palpable Hit

That long thread with @nonchalantdanger about Roxanne’s skill with a sword and where it could possibly come from finally made me decide to dip my pen (or my keyboard, rather) back into the tiny, but dedicated fandom of Cyrano de Bergerac.  Writing these characters is still quite a challenge, but quite a fun challenge, I think, and this was a fun kinda-sorta prompt to do.  I hope I did them justice, and I hope everyone enjoys this little piece!

Roxanne was pacing frantically to and fro in front of the fireplace in her villa, casting a long pink shadow across the red flames as she turned across the carpet so vigorously she might strikes flames behind her own feet and wear a hole in it.  Cyrano had grown restless just looking at her and was now standing behind the chair he’d been previously sitting in, arms folded over the back and chin propped pensively on his hands as he watched.  All of the Robin family maids, including her Duenna, had been sent away for the evening—it was only the two of them.  And the anxiety in the air could have been cut with a knife.

“I mean, I know it’s considered some sort of—of romantic custom for a man to fight for the honor of his lady love, but we are hardly living in the dark ages anymore, are we?” Roxanne was saying on her fourth lap back and forth, wringing her twisted hands demonstratively as she spoke.  “And besides, I would hardly call it romantic.  No, I would call it barbaric—I mean, at what point does it become less about the lady in question and more about some—some pompous popinjay proving his ego is larger than his opponent’s?  It seems ridiculous that the other preciuses allow themselves as prizes to be one in such a monstrous game, and I refuse to be the reason some poor feckless idiot gets skewered like a prize goose or a bunch of innocent bystanders are slashed to ribbons… I know it’s hardly ladylike, but I say it’s hardly manly to act so childishly on a lady’s behalf…”

“What exactly are you proposing?” Cyrano cut in as gently as he could.  The poor girl was working herself into a sweat, and she hadn’t even come to her point yet.

Stopping in her tracks, Roxanne turned to face him, fully silhouetted in front of the fire… beautiful and terrible, like a vision of Beatrice in the Inferno.   “I propose… no, I demand that you teach me everything you know about swordplay. I do not wish to debut into society a defenseless woman.”

Cyrano was taken aback… and it occurred to him in the same moment that maybe he shouldn’t be.  The girl who had been Roxanne—Madeleine, actually, once upon a time—had always been spirited, proud, and independent.  But she was also fearful, hiding behind him at the first sight of bullies.  Timid and shy at the idea of anything beyond those wide, empty Gascony fields.  Now here she was in the city.  Now here she was… unafraid.  Bold.  Determined to make her way with grace and, dare he say it, panache.

Now she was a woman. He’d known that before, he supposed, and not been nearly so surprised.  But not until now had his heart fluttered so in his chest at the thought.

But he quickly hid it under a smile—not a mocking one, but an understanding one—as he straightened. “So this is your solution.  Not content with the role of Guinevere, you instead intend to fashion yourself as Joan of Arc, a one-woman divine army against these… boastful infidels.”  Painting the image in the air before him with his hands, he wandered forward closer to Roxanne.  “Does that not seem a bit extreme, though?”

“Well, you’ve said so yourself, there are things one does well to carry to extremes!  Besides… you…”  She rushed forward and seemed less divine, but more human as she squeezed his hands pleadingly.  “You have made yourself a hero.  The finest swordsman in your regiment, everyone says so.  And even before then… you were the hero of my childhood.  My knight of the riverbanks.  If I were to ask anyone, it would be you and only you.” She gave his hands another tight squeeze.  “Will you?”

The words dried in his mouth for a moment, but he managed to find them again.  “How could I possibly refuse?”  Cyrano gave her hands a gentle squeeze in return and was relieved to find his own still dry.  “My princess turned page of the corn-silk hair.”  He said it with a joking air, but there was a tender sincerity lingering underneath.

And Roxanne’s face lit up with a smile of her own.  “Oh, thank you!”  She leaned up to give him a quick kiss on the cheek.  “You won’t regret it I promise… oh, I shall need a sword.”

“Here, take mine.” Cyrano unsheathed his rapier and handed it to her before laying his scabbard on a nearby table and reaching for one of the Duenna’s walking sticks from a small rack beside the front door. “This is a bit heavier, but it shall suffice.  But let us take this outside—no use in skewering any innocent inanimate bystanders.” The maids might collectively pin him to the wall like a butterfly if they damaged any of the family’s valuables. Opening the door, he bowed her outside before following into the front yard.  Fortunately for them, there was a gorgeous full moon out tonight, and there was still enough light from the nearby streetlamps to see in case of sudden clouds.  He hung his cloak on the rose trellis and tested the walking stick a bit, weighing it in his hand as he tried a few lunges and basic maneuvers.  Not exactly the finest Italian steel, but it would work just fine.  This wasn’t exactly going to be the sort of rigorous training the cadets went through—with any luck, the worst Roxanne would have to do was smack away an errant hand.

A little ways behind him, Roxanne was doing the same thing, twirling the rapier over in her hand and swishing the blade back and forth like a machete in the jungle.  “It’s much lighter than I thought it would be.”

“It needs to be—it’s a weapon of grace and agility, not necessarily of brute force.  Keep that in mind as you wield it.  And now…”  Cyrano lowered into a crouch, makeshift blade at the ready in front of him.

Roxanne’s eyebrows shot up. “You intend to throw me into the deep end so quickly?”

“A fish learns to swim by the same principle.  Advance, mermaid of Orleans, and let us see how much you already know.”  Swinging the stick up in a salute then down to his side, he waited for Roxanne to copy his movements before waiting… waiting for her to strike first.

Eventually she did, dramatically lunging forward toward his shoulder, but Cyrano deftly blocked her. Roxanne backed away to try again with the other shoulder, but met the same result.  “You’ve learned to thrust, to disengage, and to re-engage well enough, I see… let us see how you deal with this.”  Swinging his stick around again, he feinted toward her free arm, then raised up to land a hit on her opposite shoulder.  The whole time, Roxanne followed his hand with her eyes, her sword bobbing vaguely in that general direction, but not raising it quick enough to fend him off.  As she stumbled back, startled, Cyrano lowered his stick again.  “That was called a feint—a maneuver designed to mislead. You anticipated the feint so much that you missed the hit.”

“But how am I to keep up?” she asked, holding her shoulder even though Cyrano had barely tapped her. “You move so fast, I can hardly see.”

“For a start, try not to watch my hand.  The hand can deceive, as you’ve just seen… look here instead.”  He tapped his chest.  “Then let your eyes unfocus a bit—it will allow you to see your opponent as a whole, not just the nearest moving parts.  Now… shall we begin again?”

Roxanne nodded, sinking into her best crouch to mirror Cyrano, her body leaned forward instead of back.  “Do not try to go easy on me.”

“Oh, perish the thought, my dear.”  And this time he moved first, moving toward her shoulder and then to her arm in a reverse of his last maneuver.  This time she caught on, catching his stick on her blade and trying to push him back, but he was quick with a riposte, pulling back just far enough to tap the side of her hand.  Unfazed, she pressed forward again—a breach of the rules of engagement, but he’d allow it for now—trying in vain to land just the slightest touch on him each time he parried.  At one point, Cyrano dropped his stance the slightest bit lower and thrust toward her shoulder.  When Roxanne lifted her guard up to parry in turn, he dropped his posture even lower to level his stick just at her collarbone.

Falling back a step, the sword almost dropped from Roxanne’s hand as she stared tremulously down at the hit he’d scored.  “Well, I… I did tell you not to go easy on me,” she said with an uneasily flickering smile.

It was all he could do to keep firm, not to dissolve instantly in the face of her fear.  He’d regretted the hit as soon as it landed, and yet…  “That may be a worse case scenario.  God willing, you will never meet a man with such cruel intentions.  But make it a lesson as well.”  Taking her hand and tightening it around the pommel of her sword, he raised it up again at the level of her chest.  “Keep your guard level for as long as you can.  Too high or too low, and you may end up with a terrible cut to show for it.”  Straightening to his full height again, Cyrano gave what he hoped was an encouraging look.  “Shall we try again?”

Nodding resolutely—more to reassure herself than him, he suspected—Roxanne took her stance once more. Cyrano struck first again in a quick lunge, but she caught it flat and spun it away in a bit of a flourish.  A grin flashed across her face before she was back to business once more and they fell into their slow, but steady routine of thrust-parry-riposte, thrust-parry-riposte, with an occasional respite of some new maneuver that he would patiently guide her through. Roxanne was sent retreating more often than not, but every so often she would gain some ground.  If she got too cocky, however, and started bouncing back and forth like an excited puppy, Cyrano quickly put a stop to that, flicking his stick down to her waist in a light hit.  “Your footwork is merely a steady tempo, not meant to ornament the passage.  Keep yourself even and upright—small steps, but never so many in a row.”  His own form didn’t stick so strictly to those guidelines, heaven knew, but it was very good advice for a beginner.  Instantly chastened, Roxanne nodded, and they started again.

This time, Cyrano squared his chest toward her, hoping she would take the bait.  As she went for the attack, he stepped to the side and almost caught her square on the inside of one shoulder… but to his amazement, she saw the feint and dropped her arm in that spare split second, blocking his blade within inches of her sleeve.  Pushing him back a few steps, their routine continued—thrust-parry-riposte, thrust-parry-riposte, thrust-parry-disengage this time-parry-riposte.  Thrust-parry-disengage… Roxanne swung her sword forward in a broad cut, Cyrano waited for the right moment to press his attack… and she stepped to the side and fairly jabbed at his shoulder in a triumphant shove.

“Ha!”  She lifted her sword over her head like a gladiator expecting cheers from the Coliseum.  “Victory at last!  I hope that was… oh—oh, no…”

Cyrano tried to smile even as he muffled the newly bleeding cut under his hand.  “Yes… true blades tend to elicit this sort of reaction.  It’s very shallow, you needn’t worry—”

“But I am worried! Oh, Cyrano…”  Dropping the sword in the grass, Roxanne rushed forward and urged him to sit down next to her.  “I ask you to teach me to fight, and I thank you by stabbing you… let me see it, please…”

“It’s barely a scratch, Roxanne, not worth so much fuss… call it well-deserved revenge for my earlier hit, I suppose.”  But Cyrano obliged, loosening his doublet just enough to lower the shoulder of the shirt underneath.  It was indeed a relatively shallow cut, but long and already deep red, like the nick of a shaving blade.  Roxanne immediately pulled out her handkerchief to try and staunch the blood, and Cyrano could only hope and pray she couldn’t feel how warm his skin had suddenly grown there under her touch.  He almost made a comment to lighten the mood about her old fits of motherly sternness, where she would scold him for earning cuts and scrapes like these in fights against the big boys… but the words dried in his mouth again.  They didn’t feel right.  Not now.  This… felt different.

“I am so sorry,” Roxanne was saying, alternating between keeping pressure on the cut and wiping away the blood.  “You told me to be so careful, and I’ve been such a reckless oaf, and you’ve been so patient… can you forgive me?”

“There is nothing to forgive.”  Catching her hand, he lowered the handkerchief away before quickly letting go. “This… unforgivable sin in your mind is merely an accident in mine.  And this accident may be taken as a sign of improvement.  It was, after all, the first hit you landed upon me.”  No, not the first… but he didn’t dare say that out loud.

Her response was a very strained, guilty smile.  “I suppose so… I only wish I hadn’t been so rough.”  She raised her eyes to meet his, and her smile became a little more genuine. “Thank you… if for nothing else, for being so patient with me.  I know I shall never be as good as you.”

“In a single evening? Impossible.  But good enough to defend yourself against the common ruffians of Paris and prevent a glorified cockfight on your behalf?”  He offered a new smile of his own, something finally approaching those lightning flashes of audacity that often struck him.  “Undoubtedly.”  Offering Roxanne a hand, he climbed back to his feet and picked his makeshift blade back up.  “And while we still have moonlight to spend, we might as well make the most of it… shall we continue?”

“Are you sure?” she inquired, picking up her sword again.  “With your shoulder?”

“My shoulder has withstood much crueler and more purposeful assaults—I shall survive.”  Sweeping the stick up in a new salute, Cyrano angled his body toward Roxanne’s once more as he sank into his stance.  “Lay on, good saint, and show me God’s wrath within your woman’s fury.”

With a salute of her own, erect and self-assured, Roxanne pressed on.

[dragonrajafanfiction]

Dragon Dancer IV: Christmas Eve

I rocked back and forth in a glider chair, eyes scanning the wall murals around me. Cute images of foxes, owls and deer peeked behind tree trunks and bushes. Little raccoons hung out in the branches. A bear reached for a hive of bees for the small bead of honey dripping out the bottom. Each image was painted in loving detail and in good humor.

I shifted my vision to the corner of the room where a small artificial tree twinkled with simple white lights. Gifts were piled under it, mostly for the baby. Each toy had marked on it a name and a brief description. 

“Ru’yi’s duckling.” 

“Ru’yi’s bear” 

“Ru’yi’s Hello Kitty”

On the door hung a simple plaque. 

“Ru’yi’s room.”

I checked my phone. It was getting close to midnight Oslo time. My eyes shifted to the table next to the rocking chair. A white unopened envelope from Comemnus Corp lay waiting. I turned it over face down, next to a box of tissues.

 I didn’t want to open that envelope alone. 

My phone buzzed. I exclaimed with delighted surprise. It was Johann and he wanted to video chat!

I immediately accepted and his face filled my phone screen. I grinned. “Heeeey!” My smile faded when I noticed the dark rings around his golden eyes and his pale complexion. “Wow you look sleepy...”

“Jet lag..." He shook his head. “The mission itself was simple. No problems.”

His expression softened, looking into my eyes. “How are you feeling?”

“Oh, it’s definitely getting harder.” I rested my hand on my round, distended belly. “She’s sitting really low on me right now so I waddle like a fat penguin...” I rolled my eyes. “...and yeah going to the bathroom every half hour is no fun at all.”

“That’s disturbing your sleep.” He observed.

“Yes, but I sleep a lot during the day. I’m trying to get as much as I can, while I can get it. At least, I can breathe now that her head isn’t under my chest.”

“Any contractions?” 

I shook my head.

“Bleeding? Pain?”

“I’m fine. I promise.” I raised my arms, flexing the muscles I’d managed to cultivate over a year of training. “We made sure I’d be strong for this. Remember?”

He nodded. “I remember.”

“So... I have a bit of a surprise.” I reached over to the envelope. “I got this last week but... I haven’t opened it yet.” I held it to the phone camera.

“Is that the prenatal dragon blood purity assessment?”

“Yep. It’s either good news or bad news...” I turned it over in my hands. “I didn’t want to open it without you here... just in case... you know.” My eyes shifted downward, voice trailing off.

“No matter what the news, I know we’ll be able to handle it. Go ahead and open it.”

“Okay... drumroll please?”

Johann obliged, lightly drumming his fingers on the desk. My words were light hearted, but I bit my lip as I tore open the envelope.

I unfolded the letter. “Thank you for choosing Comemnus for your genetic testing needs... we take pride in the accuracy of the results...blah blah...” My eyes scanned down the page. “...keep in mind that prenatal checks are just a marker to establish a history and not entirely predictive of the future...” I took a breath. “It’s recommended to do continual testing to monitor fluctuations.”

“We regret to inform you that Ru’yi’s dragon blood purity is 48.5%... putting her at... high risk...”

I set the letter in my lap. Disappointment welled up in my eyes. Warm tears slipped down my face. “I knew it... I knew it... I knew this was going to happen...”

“Meixiu.” Johann’s voice was gentle.  “You know you have a stabilizing effect...”

“Yes but after she’s born? When she’s separate from my blood?” I reached over to the tissues and wiped my face. “If she tests over 50 percent they’re going to take her.”

“No one’s going to take her. At most they’ll have to monitor her for a while.” He reached out to his screen. “No one’s going to take her. I won’t let them.”

I wished he could reach through the screen. I rested against the back of the rocking chair, willing the tears to stop.

He brought the camera a bit closer. “She’ll be fine. Your Soul Skill can help her. She’s not going to end up constantly dying like Erii. And even if that were the case, you’re in a unique position to help her live out a long healthy life. But I don’t think she’ll be like Erii.”

I put the letter back on the night stand. “What do you think is going to happen?”

A small smile played on his lips. “I think she’ll be born beautiful... and very strong. We’ll have to train her early and often. We’ll have to protect her and watch her very closely. Our lives won’t be our own for quite some time. But... that’s alright.”

“Will we be shipped to the quarantine island...?” I asked him.

“She’s a baby, she’s not that dangerous. Meixiu, relax. Take a deep breath. Please.”

I took a deep breath, held it, and let it out. 

Johann’s eyes didn’t shift away from me.  He breathed with me, helping me calm down. He stared, intent and serious, holding my gaze like an anchor. “Don’t let this stress you out, not in these final days. Make sure you’re getting enough rest. If you feel your mind racing, just remember it’s going to be fine. Alright?”

“Okay...” Relief flooded me. 

“Everything else is okay with her, right?” He asked, his soft voice guiding me through my panic.

“Yeah. She’s otherwise normal.”

“Good. Meixiu... Now... there’s something else.” He hesitated.

I detected a shift in mood from the way his brow creased when he glanced away. “I finished the mission a bit early. I should have called you earlier, but I was thinking about a lot of things... and I couldn’t sleep.” 

He ran his hand along the back of his neck. “I met someone who... was doing all this work for a woman who was stuck in a coma in a hospital. And I thought... he should be by her side. And it hit me... that I was not at your side.”

I hurried to reassure him. “I said it was alright...”

He held up a hand. “Please... hear me out.”

I bit my lip. “Okay.”

He sat for a bit, eyes distant. “To be honest... I forgot it was Christmas until I saw the decorations here. I’ve been that busy. Right now in Norway the sun doesn’t come up. It just flashes below the horizon. People have to work for their bodies to function normally. They spend a lot of time together to pass the time. I... I was alone.”

“A year ago. I would have been fine with nothing but my sword and a suitcase. But now... I’m not so sure.”

“The whole reason I joined Cassell was out of my own desire for revenge over something that happened to me when I was younger. I obsessed about it every day. I didn’t care what I did, so long as it kept me getting closer to my ultimate goal.”

“But I have gotten no closer.” He rested his forehead against his hand. “And I’ve left you alone. I’m sorry, Meixiu.”

He looked at me again. “I’ve been getting offers for where I will be stationed as official commissioner with the Executive Department. I haven’t answered any of them.”

“I’d just keep doing what I’m doing now, rising through the ranks of commissioner, to special commissioner, to senior... until I’m given a desk job when I’m too old or injured to take on missions any more.”

“I might never find what I’m looking for. And what’s more... I... I’m not sure if I want it as bad as I used to. When I fall asleep all I do is miss you.” He looked away suddenly.

Did he not mean to say that? I wondered. Was he ashamed?  I tilted my head in confusion. This way of thinking was nothing like the man I knew.    I held my breath, following his line of reasoning. I had kept my silence before such an unusually long speech, stunned at what I was hearing. Was he thinking of ending his dragonslaying career? 

“You want to quit?” I asked quietly, gently.

“I’m not sure... this is the first time I’ve felt like this. I don’t know how to tell Schneider.”

“You’re tired...”

“Yes...”

“Come home... get some sleep. Give it some time.”

He looked at me through the camera. The desperate, frustrated look to his eyes began to fade. “I just know that so long as that...” His jaw clenched. “... thing is out there, there’s a risk it might come after you.”

We sat silently a few seconds. “I’m strong, Johann.”

He shook his head.

“Then why don’t you tell me what we’re dealing with?” I asked. “You’ve been hiding this from me for years!”

I watched as the thoughts ran across his expression, his eyes shifting, weighing the pros and cons. His breath became shallower, his lips pressed together. Was what happened to his father really that hard for him to talk about?

“Please...” I said.

His voice was halting and soft. “I was... in the car with my father. It was raining so hard, we could hardly see the road...” He suddenly stopped.

I leaned forward. “Yes... and?”

He didn’t move or speak. A notification popped up. “Connection Lost.”

I sighed. “Are you kidding me!” I checked my wireless signal. “Johann? Are you there? Can you hear me?”

The screen went black. I clucked my tongue. I sat waiting and waiting for the connection to re-establish, trying again and again to call him.

“Unable to Connect with Chu Zihang.”

I sighed loudly and growled to myself. It was so rare for him to open up like this. Maybe he’ll get back online. I propped the phone up on the table and watched for his call, rocking back and forth. In an attempt to keep myself awake, I  sang to myself. Johann’s song, a very familiar tune.

The trees, they grow high, and the leaves, they do grow green Many is the time my true love I've seen Many an hour I watched him all alone He's young but he's daily growing...

I patted my stomach as I sang. I got to the end of the song, but there was no sign of him.

I got up to go to the bathroom. I turned out the lights to the rest of the house, showered and changed into my night robe, checking back after each activity for a return call. Thirty more minutes had passed but there was none. The connection was truly out.

“Come on... Johann...” I whispered, sitting back down in the rocking chair.

I picked up the phone to dial again.

“Relax Meixiu... what time is it?” I checked phone time. I hadn’t heard back for nearly an hour. I continued to rock myself and wait. I told myself to give him a few more minutes. He was clever. He was working on it.

 My eyes suddenly grew heavy but I forced them open. I had to stay awake in case he called.

The lights in the apartment flickered. My vision blurred and my eyes shut. I tried to force myself to open them. Twisted images swirled behind my eyelids for a moment before they opened again. 

I hadn’t moved from the room, but it wasn’t the room I’d just been in. The walls were different. They were just plain pink. The paintings were gone. The toys were different toys. The tree lights were multicolored!

Confused and frightened, I reached for my phone. I looked at it but it wasn’t the same color or the same model as I’d just been using! I dropped it.

“Johann!” 

A cold chill ran through me from top to bottom, followed by a profound numbness. There was no response from Johann through my soulbond any more. His presence in my mind and heart had been as large as a mountain. Now it as snatched away, leaving an agonizing vacuum. In desperation, I reached out to him again and again. “Johann! Johann!”

I grabbed the unfamiliar phone and flipped through my recent contacts. I couldn’t find his name. I threw it across the room.

“Where is my phone?! Where’s my phone?!” My words blended together until I was just screaming, crawling on the floor, knocking things over trying to find it.

My howling was like a wounded beast and a crying baby blended together. The unearthly wailing and crashing furniture carried through the walls, the ceiling, the floor and window. 

I lay my back against the wall, one arm over my eyes. My sorrowful pleas squeezed my lungs until my voice thinned to silence. Only for them to billow open again for me to cry out. “My love! Oh, my love! My love! My love!”

My love was gone. 

Johann, my beautiful Johann, was gone.

[jflashandclash]

Tales From Mount Othrys

Axel: Say “No” to Cruise Ships II

           “Everyone has to do something to prove their commitment to the cause,” Chris Rodriguez said. His Spanish accent was raspy, almost nasally, pronouncing every “s” like mispronunciation meant a whipping. Axel guessed his family was from Northern Mexico. The neutrality of Chris’ English made Axel also guess that Chris had lived in the States for most of his life.

         Axel was relieved that Chris didn’t ask about his or Ajax’s accent.

Chris towered over Ajax and was about level with Axel’s height. His dark eyes looked nervous. Sweat shined his brow in the backstage’s dim lighting. His hands shook as he sorted through a weapons rack.

         The roar of a distant crowd made Chris flinch.

This was their “techie.” Other monsters and humans that they had passed referred to Chris as the “backstage guard.”

         Axel wasn’t sure exactly what Chris’ job description was, but one thing was clear: Chris wanted to be here as little as the Pax brothers.

         They had passed too many people and were too deep in the ship to make a successful break. From what Axel could tell, this backstage was for one of the ship’s biggest stages. The audience’s engaged screams made it sound like there were at least a hundred people—creatures?—out there.

         “It used to be easier. I got grandfathered in back when all you needed to do was recruit another person,” as Chris spoke, he sifted through a pile of miscellaneous armor. Most of it looked like something from Ancient Europe—like from that Xena show. “Then, they would send new campers on quests, but most of the quests available now are on permanent hard mode and they can’t afford to send newbies out.”

         Axel turned down a bronze breastplate that Chris tried to hand him and opted for a leather one. The armor and weapons weren’t props. A sickening twist in Axel’s stomach hinted at what was about to happen.

         “I didn’t realize we had to prove ourselves to be safe here,” Ajax said, his voice trembling. When Axel refused to take Ajax’s hand during the walk with Morpheus, Ajax had hugged himself.  He perked up upon seeing the backstage, somewhere that felt familiar to both of them.

         Axel had to remind himself this wasn’t going to be a fun experience. There were so many happy memories associated with the stage. Normally, the giddiness of being backstage would make Axel squirm with anticipation. He remembered how Uncle Frasco would poke Axel to mess up whatever paint or costume he wore while Nilley, his mother, tried to fix them. She would shot Frasco death glares and he’d wink at her. The nostalgia made Axel’s nausea worse.

Those days were gone, forever.

         “Safe…” Chris echoed Ajax’s word. “Yea. Well, you came in just in time for the new experiment: fighting.”

         Ajax puffed up his cheeks and popped them.

         Axel resisted the urge to do the same. The entire Pax family tended to do that when nervous.

         This could be good news. Their dad had been forcing them to train for the last few months. Axel and his little sister, Lapis, had particularly excelled. “What kind of fighting?” he asked. Axel picked up a sword, testing its balance.

         His father didn’t like swords. It made Axel like them even more and think of them as a hero’s weapon.

         “Uh, to the death,” Chris said.

         Axel knew it was coming, but he still puffed up his cheeks and popped them at the same time as Ajax.

         His little brother’s breath became tight. “Mom didn’t mention that,” he squeaked.

         “They just implemented it. This is kind of an experimental round to see what kind of ratings it gets,” Chris explained. He handed Ajax a javelin that was several feet taller than him.

         Axel did not like the word “ratings.”

         Chris paused, frowning. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Had you come in earlier, it might not have been so bad. Just a centaur or something. But…” He swallowed. “You might want to say your goodbyes now. You’re going to die.”

         The regret on Chris’ face told Axel something very useful. There was some hope. Chris didn’t want to be here. He didn’t want Axel and Ajax to die. Maybe, Chris could help them get out.

         “And if we refuse to get on the stage?” Axel asked. He pulled his shoulders back to stand as tall as he could.

         “Then I will eat you.”

         Axel would never admit that he jumped, but the bear man startled him. Agrius stepped out from the stage’s back entrance, where Morpheus had left them with Chris and where Chris confiscated Axel’s gun.

“You’re either with the cause, or you’re monster feed.” Agrius seemed to be reconsidering his opinions on jalapeños. There was a line of drool sliding out of his snout.

         “How generous,” Axel said, trying to keep his expression neutral. His little brother might get hysterical if he thought Axel was afraid.

         Chris took a step away from Agrius, eyeing him. When his gaze returned to Axel, he shrugged apologetically. “Normally, it isn’t this bad. You just got really unlucky. Like, mother-load unlucky. We were running out of expendable monsters to throw at this guy.”

         Someone poked their head around a burgundy curtain hanging against the wall. Even in the dim, backstage lighting, Axel could tell the older boy had brilliant red hair that dangled a little too long against the boy’s long, pale nose and freckles. He flashed them a charming smile. From the dart of his eyes and the quiver of his hand on the curtain, he looked nervous.

         “Are you up next?” the boy asked.

         Chris answered for them. “Yea, they’re up next—”

         “No,” Axel cut him off. He hefted up his sword, hoping the stage props he’d handled in the past would give him some familiarity with the real thing. “Ajax stays here. I’m going out on my own.”

         “Uh…” Chris said skeptically.

         At the same time, the redhead hopped once. “Oh! You must be good. What’s your name?”

         Axel glanced down to where Ajax had burrowed against Axel’s back again. His little brother peeked curiously around to see the newcomer.

Agrius stepped uncomfortably close, licking the drool off his teeth.

         Axel didn’t know if he was or wasn’t good. All he knew was that he had to be good to get Ajax out of here. There wasn’t an option. “Axel. Axel Pax,” he said, puffing up his chest to look confident.

         “No, like, your stage name,” the boy said.

         Ajax leaned further around Axel’s elbow to ask, “What’s the scariest and biggest cat they have in Greece?”

         The redhead, Chris, and Agrius all glanced at each other.

         “Uh, a lion, I think?” the redhead said.

         The temptation to elbow Ajax in the head was fierce. When Axel glanced down at Ajax, he saw his little brother’s desperation. If Axel was going to be the big hero, he needed to do everything right, including have a cool moniker. Just like their old performances, he would have to go out with a bang.

         Axel swallowed. “So, this guy, the one I’m fighting, is a big deal,” he said, gesturing towards the curtain containing the stage. “When I defeat him, my brother will not need to prove his worth. When I beat him, it will be admittance for both of us.”

         If Axel kept saying “beat him,” he might start to believe it.          

         The redhead’s smile widened, turning goofy. “Yep. I can do that. I hope you win.”

         The older boy examined Axel and his little brother for a moment too long.

         Then he disappeared behind the curtain.

         Roaring erupted outside.

         Agrius shoved Axel forward, towards a different section of curtain.

         There was no time to prepare. Axel had meant to give Ajax a hug, or tell Ajax the best route to run if… if something… if he—

         Stage lights blinded him.

         The typical rush of going in front of a crowd made Axel’s heartbeat increase. Heat washed over him.

         One thing solidified: he wasn’t going to let Ajax lose another family member without getting to say goodbye. One more reason that Axel had to live.

         When Axel’s eyes adjusted to the brilliance of lighting, he jammed his feet into the floorboards. His breath became short.

         There was a massive, doomed cage encasing the center of the stage. It was igloo-shaped. The only tunneled entrance was the one Agrius shoved Axel through. The bars were spaced far enough that Ajax might be able to squeeze between them, but Axel couldn’t, even if he’d practiced more contortionism. The space was maybe thirty feet in diameter with the highest part of the cage ten feet off the ground. Ropes dangled from the rusted bars with swords, spears, and axes, if Axel wanted to reach up and change weapons.

         Axel hated cages.

         He tried to keep a rhythmic count in his head, to ease his breath and mimic the count. That was what his Uncle Frasco told him to do whenever something scared Axel.

         The cage is a backdrop, he thought. Focus on the main event. Focus on the main event or you’ll never make it through the show.

         He would have frozen up in fear if someone hadn’t moved in the center of the cage.

         The first thing Axel noticed was the armor. His opponent’s breastplate gleamed with pure gold. There were medals of honor decorating his chest. When the man rose to his feet, a tattered, reddish-purple cloak fluttered around his ankles. If Axel had to guess, the man was at least eighteen and six foot three. His chestnut skin glistened with sweat and blood. His dark eyes bore into Axel with the patience of someone who knew they had already won the fight.

         “What’s this?!” came a voice outside the cage. The stage extended a few more feet, allowing the redhead to walk along the edge like a show host. “Jak-Jak back here to say: we have a surprise last minute entry against Praetor Julian, son of Mars! Meet Axel the Lion!”

         The audience screamed.

         It almost drowned out the sound of a cage door slamming shut behind Axel and the way Ajax shrieked in panic, “B-but that guy is huge!”

         As Axel staggered forward, struggling with claustrophobia more than the fear of fighting this guy, all he could think was, That is a stupid stage name to die with.

 ***

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed :D

[weaselle]

pay no attention to this collection I just need to post it so I can find it

hit walls and floor... tall inside of my skull; if I never fall at all, clever's awfully dull - so if "push" says the door you'll be watchin' me pull - 'cause I only shop for china when I'm walkin' with bulls

Order me sit? dope, I'm askin' how high; I out right hope my notes are causin' outcry - where do I fit? miles as the cow flies - statistically shit, climbin' slopes to outlie

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I can juggle knives, and proselytize, and wink my eyes in flirth (or mix words like mirth and flirt, like, ask what planet Dirt is wearth) I can lift a person by their soul, or... even let them down; I can fit myself to any role: demon, prophet, clown. I can write like frightened squid, or read a book from any shelf- but a lifeguard out at sea can drown, and I can't save myself

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I want an adventurous crew, less than 100 and much more than 2; I've got an idea or four to do and believe that "to lead" isn't "ordering you" - I want be thicker than thieves: if one of us cries, everyone grieves; stacked deck for success, form small companies so that every ace dealt goes up all of our sleeves - I wish I had Boromir's horn; I stand full of arrows, small and forlorn I'd summon an army as sure as you're born and we'd rend every obstacle / mend what is torn

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yo when it's late I don't know if debate is a pro that I'm prone to or con I conflate; yawn ok great it's the dawn of new date too soon gone like a pawn in a perilous state - do I wander or wait, keep closed yonder gate or transpose these ten toes 'til exposing my fate? if not off to bed nodding off head berates and refuses to do more than snooze/obfuscate

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I don't have time enough to tell the clock to stop its ticking talk, while I'm sublimely sleepy, still ensconced in twos of shoes and socks; I'm staring off in awful need of themes that breed these searing thoughts- I breathe more air when all unfair reality congeals and clots; when sleep is claustrophobic, fear near stoic in its static stay, I ride my nightmares into mounts more suited to the dreams of day

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time for me to be known from home to home, on the campaign trail like when Romans roam, I'mma do the damn thang, prevail and own every twist in this life-line vine I've grown

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sick like a little bit with a bad tum and sniffle it's not a badda-boom bat beating but a wiffle hit; sleep like the bleeping sheep gotta wring it outta me, sore like a freaking score that you sing without a "c".

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i got nothing to say, i'm all bluff in this play, i mean i'm here to swerve some verse it's clear i'm thumpin' away at the buttons with the letters on whenever it’s day like a cat attacks a sweater, just pretending it’s prey - I need to catch the thing I’m chasing, like, it’s gotta get caught, and so I jot it down a lot to try to capture the thought; but though the plot is often written out in dashes and sketches, i rarely cash in those checks, i need more carry than fetches, so I’m dreamin’ and dumpin’ out all the schemin’ or somethin’ and like, even if it’s meaningless these keys I’ll keep thumpin

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with the internet i’m magic and i’m casting a spell call a song out of the air to here as clear as a bell private playlist from the A-list like i’m famous as hell making music moving quickly so I’m faster as well

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“oh no” I shout “Where’s Trusty my phone?” I don’t know the whereabouts, must be shown- adjusted the tone of the ring to silence now trying to find it brings me to violence; really need to locate as I motivate to go today I throw the flippin’ sofa pillows hopin’ for a stowaway... but oh no way it’s gone I pray this song will make a tiny spell; a lesson less on lost forlorn and more intent on finding cell

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pocket full of humbug, some'll argue/ some shrug but damnit my whole planet's stupid like it's on the Dumb drug will there be a U.S. war? (I mean ANOTHER on our list) maybe something civil: neo-drivel vs. power fist... maybe accidental, mental trump insulting china's boss I fear these pale tears will steer us straight into a giant loss

so many people on the earth are searching for a safe life the rich'll keep their swords but lord they'll take away our steak knife Nothing free for you and me our banking fees are never waved; an act by black or poor is "crime" for white or rich it's "misbehaved" They're pouring us an ethanol and calling it an eggnog - time to run away and trade these reindeer for a sled-dog; the season of the commie christ whose message hasn't landed yet: money only isn't evil if the people's needs are met

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no thanks on the news, yo crank up the tunes, don't bank on the crankiness taking a snooze unless I get dressed from neckless to shoes and charge the horizon more wise than confused __________________________________________________________

hear the too late beep, missing two days sleep, and the road to a dream is a two way street; so the mood stays bleak though I do make sweet this coffee with cream and the brew ain't weak

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been a While since I styled out the verbs and tenses, went around the Gates and straight hopped the fences; penUltimately gotta be a sultan of self: master mind, rule body, find my worth-and-my-wealth; if i'm quiet too long I'll have sloth not stealth so I try to move along and get my words off the shelf.

my projects: objects I invent/books writ - that shit won't pay the rent; throw fits, I have, it don't prevent: what's real from feeling devil-sent.

so I must be clever, do each: sum total; whatever needs eating this dead-beat goat'll; ask what is the art in a pace grown sickly? cut to the part where the chase goes quickly

Now hook or crook I must prepare, to tell each truth/take every dare stand hand on hips, and one in air, you can kiss my lips, or my derrière

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got me a hit list, swear i'ma get this done til the sun goes under the business; witness, this is crazy and witless, lazy lately: maybe the wiz kid just hid restless - put to the test his quiz is bested get to the rest it's now or not again, get that got and then kill it til the whole damn lot is a slaughter pen, sweat til the wet drip drops gettin' hotter than the metal that your kettle corn kernel keeps poppin' in; hoppin' and hippin' and readin' what's written i gotta be gettin' to the List no skippin'! slippin like fall, new leaves i'm flippin - givin' my all just to keep on grippin'; breakin' what doesn't bend wrong way through, as i make it to the end of the long To Do

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i post at the prompt, chew big what i've chomped; grew kid to a ghost haunting most of this pomp; listless within this to do list i'm swamped - spirit in fits, corpse slow to go romp

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incautious swatches of saying; watch as he washes the playing: switching the swerving and swaying into some terms of conveying wishes conditions occurred in which this envisioned un-blurred digit could get itself heard and flip politicians the bird

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in the trace of the face off you tasted last, is the scent of the sense made fading fast, so your dreams leak sieve-like hiking past a scared nightmare crew of an all-you cast

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got me a pallet of shall get around to, climb out of shallow kie, it's not about you; just look at the play and see where the props ain't, take out a brush but don't rush it you'll drop paint; stop sayin' you're praying for planet like damn saint but get out and do, do it, do, 'til you feel faint; yes do it, true get into some writing, what you must chew is how much off you're biting, i dust off the lightning and plug it right in, if i play hard enough then my bluff just might win, all this tin in my pocket while walking about til the hat-caving camptown will clean me all out- my ten other projects, pretend money fudge it, i'll sell all my objects and end up with budget; i'd love it if some of my ideas ran, but i'll finish the one and be one happy man

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each piece is news, new peace in reach; tho a few of you choose nude tweets of Preach- but the rest got best bits fittin' here, what tests my pets must sit and hear: forget that past rush last two years going mash-gas fast 'til we're clashing gears, it's clear no room for fear to be, but the info flash is a blast to me- from the crashing sea to the land locked loam, we're lashed to the new word womb to tomb; and it's all fantastic like plastic foam that'll patch like magic a tragic home, or a tech part heart in 3-d print that'll let docs talk too intelligent; it's so elegant, that an elephant could do operations like he hella went: to harvard med my head is full but the school yard's sharp like a shaving tool; i'm a raving fool, but i drink it in, article particles 'til i sink and spin, win wonder i'm under delusions grand- will i sunder illusions and understand? or is it too much fuss will i cuss and worry, will i do what's just 'mid the dust and fury all i know is i go with the flow i find, tryna rein in my brain while i fill my mind

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so often was the A.M. spent prayin' for mayhem, like seeing riots firing inspired me to 'amen'; i'd hate when the job sucked, my robbed luck, i'd get stuck- attempts at free society my hopes and dreams were all fucked; but lately (don't hate me) the game is less crazy- i bust twice as lustrous if bosses don't make me; So new to the bragging, i catch up from lagging and write down solutions more lucid less nagging

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no sleep awake i sit and wait until the mill will dim/abate some whim shall take my fancy fate is to be sleeping dreaming state my eyes won't close i'll type i 'spose i'll write a night time rhyming prose those words i've heard but rearranged their meaning seeming weird and strange i've changed but how i could not say i only know no other way yet days gone by then who was i my mind was mine but what i tried to bind untied it flies! it runs! i rue what once i 'knew'; so dumb- untruth undo what time has done i can't so chant of what's to come oh spin oh sing oh show such things oh paint me what the future brings if won't be still then say your fill i pray my brain abstain from frills and spill the beans and give me scenes of things that help divine the means which plan to make which paths to take? i sit and wait no sleep awake

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rework this

i want things to be different, starting with me; like to find me a new mind, with new eyes to see; like to start a new life, with new ways to be; can't be hard to do right, or this dude might flee- but i like the older version, no aversion to he: the kid who up and did lots, and got up from knees; who figured bigger sub-plots, and thought it was neat; who questioned syncopation, by stepping off beat; so i'd like to start a nation, a tribe or a team; one with no reservations just, a vibe and some steam; a group think to shout out 'thou shalt know peace' and to try it they're provided with some elbow grease; what i mean is, i think it's, so nice to be me; and the thing is the scene seems a singularity; but my brain goes, down more roads, than the branches of trees; and with more crew, i might do, more glancing with ease; so for multiples of loyal, one/two/three: i might try it royal, and become true We

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[acrobaticcatfeline]

The Fear of the Dragon Witch (triplets rolorem) Chapter One!!!!!

Word Count: 2762

TW: remus, deceit, swearing, sibling rivalry, I projected on Roman so anxiety, I think that’s it, let me know if I missed anything!!!

Notes: Well it’s not posted when I said it was, but you know I got distracted so here it is, have the triplets fic we’ve all been waiting for!!! Hope you enjoy!!!

Pairings: side logicality, possibly more in the future.

Summary: “you are the absolute worst!” Roman had a hectic life, he had a full time job basically in theatre, honors classes, major anxiety and ADHD. Oh. And he had two brothers who were minutes apart from him in age. As you could guess, high school is a bit stressful.

“you are the absolute worst!”

Roman sat on the ground beside a chair that now seated his brother who just smirked down at him. He begrudgingly stood up and looked at his other brother who was watching with calculated indifference. He pouted and went to sit on the other chair, just to fall on his ass again. His cocky brother let out a delighted cackle and he finally sat in the stupid chair before he could recover.

“you’re an obnoxious haughty jackass and I hope that you choke on deodorant.”

“wow that’s creative baby bro! oh we’re so pwoud of youuu!”

“fuck off! I’m literally a minute younger than you!”

“you two act like toddlers. Hurry up, we have to get going, I don’t want to be late.”

“I don’t wanna be late… blah blah rant rant dick joke”

“Remus I’m going to literally drag you out of the door don’t test me.”

“do it you won’t no balls”

Remus very much regretted the next two minutes as he was, literally, dragged out of the house by his ears. Roman also felt secondhand regret as he had to rush even faster to finish getting ready. He ran out the door, locking it behind him, and jumped into the car. He grinned at the fact that he automatically won shotgun because he wasn’t mouthing off to Logan. He settled as Logan started driving, fussing with his hair in the mirror, before pulling on his Once beanie. He futzed around with it until it looked right and then stimmed with the hem of his Rent shirt, humming the song his shirt referenced quietly. He shook his shoulders trying to adjust his jacket without using his hands. Regardless of what it said he was not succeeding at being more ‘chill’. He was what would have happened if you asked a witch to fill a doll with anxiety and excessive amounts of energy with no coping mechanisms left to spare. Oh, and a love of the arts. He sure did love the arts.

“Ro, take this.”

Logan had handed Roman a small box, and Roman looked at him for a moment before opening it. In the box was a Maui hook on a cord, a spinner ring with a bird flying on it, and a fidget spinner designed like captain Americas shield. He smiled then looked at Logan a bit confused.

“why are you giving me this?”

“because you keep ripping your shirts when you play with them. That shirt was expensive, I’d like it to last. They’re stim toys, a spinner ring, a spinner, and a chew necklace. They’re silent and not destructive, I thought it might help.”

“…did you get this yourself?”

“mhmm. Saw them at the mall after work. Why?”

“its nothing, just… you didn’t have to get these for me lo. You should save your money; I know these aren’t cheap.”

“I think you forget that the whole reason I have the job I do is to buy you guys gifts. Mom and Mimi have the whole money thing handled.”

“yeah but-”

“Roman I love you, shut up and let me ok?”

“…ok”

“you guys are gross”

“and you act 5, what’s your point goblin”

When they got to school they all went their separate ways quickly, Roman giving Logan a brief hug before running off. Logan didn’t have to walk far to bump into his best friend Virgil and his significant other Patton. He glanced briefly at the chain around Patton’s neck and smiled seeing they were using their pronoun necklace. He laced his hand with Patton’s, bringing it up to place a kiss on it then went back to idly swinging. He let out a soft complement for Patton’s dress then started chatting with his two friends about last nights assignments.

Remus on the other hand found his friends still stalling in the parking lot, waiting for him. He wandered over with a grin on his face, glancing as Damián leaned on his motorcycle while talking to Remy. When he was close enough, Damián, Remy, and his brother Toby all gave him a smile. Damian threw out a bland shallow insult then kicked Remy before urging all of them to follow him to class.

Roman had to trek across campus to meet up with his friends. He had made a b-line to the drama room, grinning wide as he saw his favorite people doing one thing or another on stage. He saw Valerie swaying around mid-stage with a broom, singing quietly in a voice that was beyond rehearsed, Joan, who was fidgeting with some of the wires on the walls, their SO Talyn sitting nearby and humming a tune, and he saw Terrance, standing on some of the set pieces, fixing up other pieces, all while singing wonderfully to one of the songs from the upcoming musical.

He climbed up the stage offering hellos to everyone and making his way to the ladder center stage, climbing up to adjust the cording for the hook that hung there for a yet to be finished prop. After fully fixing it, he descended and went to the prop corner where all the props, finished or not, sat. He grabbed the giant moon and three different cans of paint and his personal paintbrush set and started coating the crescent with the scattered look of craters with the occasional splash of pure white accenting the light blues and grays and the dark blacks that formed shadows. After about 10 minutes, he heard the backstage door clatter open and he smiled. He turned his head with the rest of them, their eyes all landing on Mr. Sanders who had two drink holders and a donut crate. He smiled back and lifted his arms carefully. Then set everything down on the table near the door.

“coffee and donuts anyone?”

Everyone walked over in time, to grab their coffee and their donut, knowing exactly which one was theirs before walking over. When Roman finally got up from his project and got his, he grabbed the one in the holder with nothing else, separate due to its contents, and grabbed the Boston crème donut. He took a taste of his drink and smiled; Starbucks had some amazing hot chocolate. He sat back down next to his project and set down his drink, quickly snatching up the blow-dryer to speed up the paints setting process.

The five of them were always there in the mornings, they were in fact, trusted with their own sets of keys for the theater and the smaller classroom adjacent. Well technically 4, as Talyn wasn’t actually in the class, but they were consistently there, and was always helping when they could spare the time. They helped before and after school, and they held lunch meetings every day, which would eventually devolve from Important Drama Class Discussion to gossip circle. They would pop by in between classes to see if they could help, they would create sets like magic, not there the day before and completed by the end of the next, they were the committee that helped Mr. Sanders choose the musical for the quarter, they helped grade, they did everything a TA did and more without being asked and without having a TA credit.

The four students all took at least two different classes with Mr. sanders and also had leading roles in their departments. Roman and Joan both lead tech, Joan being the stage manager and Roman being the assistant stage manager, and Valerie and Terrance would aid there if they didn’t always have a spot in the musical productions. Most of the time the two of them would sit and run lines for hours at a times, and often Mr. sanders would join them, taking the parts of the other characters they weren’t playing. They had a class with just the four of them, and then Valerie and Terrance had an acting specific class, where Joan and Roman shared a technical class as well as a stage prep class.

Roman didn’t know how the others had time to do all of it, since they all had super intense classes outside of theatre and jobs on top of it all. He didn’t have a job, he had accelerated in middle school, so he was two years ahead in English and math, and a completed second language course, and he had finished his last math credit the year before, leaving him with world history, biology, and a senior level English course, he also had a dance class, but nobody was going to talk about that. He wore a face mask in that class and had the teacher call him a different name because he was embarrassed about it. He was sure if anyone saw him doing ballet that his life would be over. Not even his brothers knew, his moms did though, and they were very supportive. That was completely irrelevant.

The others had just left to help Thomas-Mr. sanders! Get something from his car, leaving him to his devices. He stood up, hot chocolate in one hand, a broom in the other and he started to sing to himself, dancing about the stage with eyes closed in bliss.

“Babe, there’s something tragic about you Something so magic about you Don’t you agree? Babe, there’s something lonesome about you Something so wholesome about you Get closer to me No tired sighs, no rolling eyes, no irony No ‘who cares’, no vacant stares, no time for me”

While he sung, he spun around and around, oblivious to the world, even the loud clanking of the door opening. He got louder, more confidant, he leapt over the obstacles he knew were there, as if his eyes weren’t shut and he was aware. Valerie and Joan had pulled out their phones, quickly starting a video, not moving other than to let their teacher get a better look. Roman sung with a deep emotion and a vibrato deep in his chest, having perfect form in his singing as well as with his dancing. His falsetto rang out just as strong and he just continued to dance and sing.

“Honey, you’re familiar like my mirror years ago Idealism sits in prison, chivalry fell on its sword Innocence died screaming, honey, ask me I should know I slithered here from Eden just to sit outside your door”

And then his eyes opened, and he was glad he had drained his cup because it flew out of his hands as did the broom as the calm bliss drained from his features and filled back up with panic and fear. He pressed to his chest, blindly checking for his book bag, backing up slowly before turning and leaping off the stage and running out the doors, the screams from his friends and teacher calling for him going silent in his ears as the only thing he heard was the blood pumping through his head. He hid in the bathroom stalls, sending a text to Logan.

‘Help help Logan I can’t breathe I’m in the bathroom next to the theater please I can’t I can’t breathe’ it had an immediate response, shorter than most his texts ever are, a simple ‘omw’ shot back seconds later, and within 5 minutes he heard the door open and Logan call his name. By then he had been chewing on his new necklace obsessively, and when Logan called for him, he scrambled up and out, throwing himself into his brothers’ arms. Logan held him protectively, calmly waiting for the sobs to quiet. Eventually they did and Logan pulled back to look at Roman properly. Roman’s hair looked stressed and messed up almost beyond repair and his beanie was pulled lower than normal. He frowned.

“Roman what happened?”

“it-its nothin, its real- it’s really dumb I should- I should just suck-suck it-suck it up, it doesn’t ma-matter I’m sorr- I’m sorry lo I just- I just-”

“Roman breathe. Breathe first. I’m sure its not dumb if it caused this ok? Just breathe and explain when you can.”

“o-okay. …they saw- they saw me singing. And-and dancing and I can’t believe I was so dumb to let them see how am I gonna face them now lo they’re gonna hate me!!!”

“hey. You’re making jumps in logic. I know you understand the connection, but I don’t okay? How are you getting from your friends seeing you singing to them hating you?”

“because! Because! Um… I-I don’t know, I just, I know they will!”

“Roman what you’re experiencing is a cognitive distortion. You’ve come to the conclusion that you singing will cause your friends to hate you, and I know from experience that if you had any real reason to believe that they would hate you over something this inconsequential you wouldn’t have befriended them. Have faith in them ro. Give them a chance to prove you wrong before deciding this.”

“… o-okay. Do you, do you really think they don’t hate me?”

“I don’t know your friends very well, but I highly doubt anyone would hate you for this. Now, when you’re ready, go back to them. I’m sure they’re worried about you.”

“yeah… yeah okay. Thank you, Logan, you’re a life saver”

“don’t mention it.”

Roman took a few more deep breaths and gave Logan one last hug before going back to the theatre room. He shyly opened the giant hall doors, feeling like an ant in the huge auditorium. The first face he saw when coming back in was Joan who was sitting on the edge of the stage on their phone, legs dangling off the end. They raised their head at the doors sound and brightened. They sat still however, and then came Mr. sanders. He had rushed forward and met him where he was with an outstretched arm and a smile on his face. Roman took his hand and let out a yelp as he was dragged forward. He couldn’t quite concentrate on what his teacher was saying but he knew he was smiling so he hoped it was good.

“-Roman can you sing what you were singing before for me again? Please?”

They were on the stage now, and Joan was nearby with a wide smile. He looked between them and Mr. sanders, and slowly and cautiously nodded. He began the song again, slowly, quietly, but by the time he was at the chorus he was belting out the lyrics once more. His chest felt light, like it was filled with helium and was floating away. His friends all stood grinning at him as he sung, and he was elated.

Imagine for a moment that this was a child’s cartoon, impossible wacky things happen to show emotion. If it were a tv show he would be flying, hair blowing around his head as he was fully submerged by the pure joy of singing. This isn’t a tv show however, and so its just a boy singing his heart out on stage. He wrapped up the song, shocked to see his teacher nearly bouncing from excitement.

“you’re our lead!!! You are a perfect cast!!! You have the perfect range and dance style and I haven’t seen you act but Roman you’re it!!! You’re what we’ve been looking for!!!”

“wh-what? No, I, I can’t do that! I couldn’t get on stage and perform like that!!! I-I didn’t even audition! You-you can’t just, just give me the part! Mr. sanders I’m honored but I can’t let you-”

“Roman, I know you can do it. Also, it’s quite exactly my job to give kids the parts they’ve earned, and that song was enough to see that you deserve that role. You can still say no I guess, but really Roman, I honestly believe you’re exactly the person I’ve been looking for this role. I would be forever grateful if you took me up on it.”

And what could he truly say to that? To his closest friends who looked so thrilled, so proud of him. He couldn’t say no, that would let them down. He looked up at his teacher, the man who would be his mentor for at least another two years after this one and said yes. He agreed and he was terrified. But, singing and dancing made him happy, so he doubted he would end up regretting it completely. He brought his chew necklace up, absently chewing as his peers and teacher cheered. He was going to… have a whole lot to explain to Logan and Remus. And mom and Mimi. That will be… fun.

Taglist: @fivebyfive-finebyfive @tacohippy56900 @analogical-mess @crookedlyoptimisticdestiny @angels-and-dreams @fandomloverangel @demented-dukey @karmels-stuff

Let me know if you want to be tagged in my writing!!!

Thank my fanyou for reading I will see you later ladies lords and nonbinary royalty!!!

[thatwritingho]

Momento Mori

 Chapter 6

This is hella long, or at least, it’s like twice the length of the rest of the chapters. Smut warning!

After a week's time, an impromptu flight back to her old apartment to carefully secure a few important possessions, and to say a very tearful goodbye to Mrs. Baker (which she had refused to budge on despite Charles's insistence that the Klokateers were more than capable of packing up her life for her) Olive was finally settling in to her new room.

Stalkateer had been the main one helping her move, packing up the moving truck and helping her arrange furniture once she had returned to Mordhaus, and he had actually turned out to be a pretty decent guy, when she was able to get him to talk, which wasn’t often. He seemed almost... scared of her, which was concerning, but none the less, she had managed to weasel some conversation out of him, and he had hooked her up with a desperately needed weed connection with another gear who was growing in their closet.

Her new quarters were located a mere minute's walk from the band’s personal quarters. Such closeness, of course, was necessary, in case something were to happen to one of them during the night. But it also meant that her room was directly on the path to and from their rooms, and as such allowed the perfect opportunity for the boys to pop in at any time, which they had already begun to do.

“This music ams weird, Olives.”

Olive didn’t feel particularly inclined to change from the BTS playlist that drifted from the speakers, located strategically around her room for the best sound, as she hammered yet another picture hanger into the wall.

Toki and Murderface had come under the guise of helping her arrange her room, but the Norwegian had long since forgotten his original purpose, instead settled on the floor with a box containing all of her collectible figurines, effectively stalling her own progress every few minutes to ask her who each new figure he alleviated of it’s bubble wrap prison was.

Unsurprisingly, the boy had been absolutely taken with Apophis, who now lay draped over Toki’s neck, occasionally weaving his way though the brunette’s silky hair.

Murderface, surprisingly, was actually being at least somewhat productive, but was only emptying the boxes he deemed ‘interesting.’

Still, despite the interruptions, it was nice to have company to break up the monotony of unpacking, even if they complained about her music taste.

“It’sch gay, isch what it isch. Fucking boy bandsch...”

Olive scoffed and turned to grab the framed, stylized Japanese movie poster for Army of Darkness, hooking it into place on the deep plum painted wall and stepping back to make sure it was level.

“Oh, come on, it’s not so bad,” Olive smiled mischievously to herself as she said her next words, “and you guys are technically a boy band too, you know?”

Toki and Murderface both snapped their attention to her at that, movements frozen and eyes wide as the realization dawned on them.

“What! No way! We’re men, not boysch.”

“Ya, we ams way mores brutal!”

She could only laugh, turning back to bang in another hook, mutilating the drywall further.

“You got enough schit to put on the wallsch?”

She glanced at the stacks of framed art and canvas on the floor propped against the wall before her, as well as the folded tapestries and wall hangings, and shrugged at the bassist.

“I like to have things I like around. Is that so bad?”

Toki hummed at them, too intently focused on inspecting the Faye Valentine figure in his hands to give proper attention to any conversation, the tip of his tongue sticking cutely out of his lips as he admired the paint job.

Snatching up the next victim to be suspended, Olive nearly dropped it at a sudden outburst from Murderface.

“Holy schit!”

Olive snapped her attention over to him, and felt her stomach drop as she noticed the elongated black box now on top of her bed instead of below. The lid was lifted and propped open as Murderface stood with a single hand outstretched, hesitant to touch the contents inside, and she strode forward on quick feet, slamming the lid back down as he jumped slightly at her abruptness.

“Wasch that a fucking Yoschindo Yoschihara katana in there?”

Fighting back the urge to slap the asshole for snooping, she regarded the man staring at her with wide eyes, glancing briefly over to Toki who’s attention had been piqued at the exclamation.

“Swords? Whys do yous have swords, Olives?

Oh, god damn it.

Olive crossed her arms and gave Murderface a stern look, cocking her hip out to the side for added effect.

“I think the better question is, why were you digging around under my bed? I had those hidden for a reason.”

Dark eyes shot to the door mid sentence, as footsteps resounded from the hall followed by a half-hearted knock, the door already opening as she gave her permission for entrance, thankful for the interruption.

“Olives, Murderface.”

Skwisgaar regarded the two with questioning eyes, glancing from the guilty looking man to the obviously annoyed woman.

“Ams Toki in heres too?”

The blonde walked into her room as if he belonged there, as if he owned the place, eyes dancing around the various decor and boxes which littered the room in disarray, finally landing on the brunette on her floor.

“Ah, heres you ams. We ams having de gets togethers tonights, de groupies am startinks t- Ams dat a snakes on yous neck?”

Toki positively beamed back.

“Ya, ams a reallys cool snake. His names Apop- Apopofofises.”

Forcing down a laugh at the failed pronunciation, Olive turned her attention to the new comer.

“Didn’t you guys just have a party last night?”

Icey blues snapped to dark ones, pillowy lips curling up into a seductive grin as he made a point to look her over from head to toe then back again, gaze lingering on her fishnet clad legs.

“Ja, but now we has anothers.”

“Right.”

Rolling her eyes, she latched the case closed with a pointed look to the bassist, and stalked back over the piece she had hastily hung, straightening the askew frame.

Murderface, still slightly bristled from Olive’s odd behavior, was quick to head for the door, waving his hand over his shoulder as he walked out.

“Yeah, well, I’ll schee you homosch later, wouldn’t want to keep all my adoring fansch waiting.”

Boots thumped lightly on the floor and Olive didn’t need to look to know it was Skwigaar and not Toki standing just barely too close, as per usual, his lip curling up in light disgust as he took in the art, an old anatomical lithograph demonstrating the points of incision for various hand, finger, foot, and toe amputations.

“You haves such creepys taste...” His sneer deepened a bit as he noticed the music filling the room, “Ands garbage tastes in musics.”

Cold knuckles ghosted across her arm, and she fought the urge to visibly shiver, pointedly avoiding looking at him.

“Toki, you shoulds be joinings de otters.“

Toki glanced between the pair still in the room, delicately placing the figure in his hands on the nearest shelf as he rose to his feet.

“Whats about yous guys?”

“I needs to be speakings with Olives in privates, ja?”

Toki eyed Skwisgaar suspiciously, making no move for the door.

“Whats for?”

The blonde whipped his head to shoot him an annoyed glare at the question.

“Ams about a personals medicals conskerns. Nones of yous business.”

Medical concern my ass.

Olive could barely withhold the snort that threatened to break from her lips.

“I’ll meet up with you in a few, Toki.”

With a last glance to her, the brunette turned to place Apophis back in his terrarium and headed for the door, leaving poor Olive alone with the persistent Swede. Reluctant to look at him for fear she would be ensnared in the depth of his cold eyes, she snatched up the hammer once more, placing the next picture hook in position and beating it into place as she addressed the man.

“So what is it? Don’t tell me you’ve managed to contract another STD since your test this morning? Or did you pull a muscle in your hand again?”

Calloused fingers running along her jaw halted all of Olive’s movements, and she begrudgingly allowed him to angle her chin to face him, cool pools of blue washing over all her senses with serenity, seeming every bit like the calm before a storm, and she struggled to keep her breath steady.

Before, Skwisgaar had been content to merely toss out innuendos and lightly flirt, seemingly amused and unaffected when she weaseled her way out of the situation, never actually giving him a straight answer about her attraction to him, but since the incident with the wolves, the guitarist seemed hellbent on having her. It was apparent he had never had to put forth much effort to coerce a woman to sleep with him, making this all the more exciting to him. His attempts to lure her to bed with him had become more frequent and more intense, and much to her chagrin, she was starting to lose her resolve.

There was something about him, something irresistible; a primal, raw, almost otherworldly charm, beautiful and glowing, drawing in his prey with his stunning bioluminescence, only to chew them up and spit them out after he had had his fill of their body.

“Oh, littles Olives... It ams very cutes, hows you plays de hards to get likes dis.”

The pink haired woman scoffed, jerking her face from his grip and turning away to hide her burning cheeks, setting down her tools and yanking on her boots, deeming her oversized tshirt turned dress, falling to her mid thigh, and fishnets acceptable enough attire for the night.

“I’m not playing at anything, Skwisgaar.”

What she would have given to smack that alluring smirk right off his perfect face.

.

The music was loud, pounding thorough Olive’s skull and causing a familiar dull throb to take root on the left side of her head. Toki had gone to grab them both drinks, leaving an empty seat on each side of her on the sofa, but that had been five minutes ago, and she could see that he had been stopped on the other side of the room by... a clown?

These parties are getting weirder and weirder.

Olive allowed her eyes to slip closed for a moment, the absence of light helping a bit to ease the aching pain.

“Yah dooin alright? Yer naht lookin so good, babe.”

Dark eyes cracked open reluctantly, trailing up to meet the green ones of the redhead standing before her.

“Yeah... Yeah. I’m fine. Just a headache.”

Pickles gave his signature lopsided grin, bloodshot eyes flickering over her, grin widening at her Tupac tee, glossy gaze lingering on the exposed portion of her thigh tattoo below the hem, and stretched out his arm to offer her an open beer.

“Here, dis’ll help. Yah need it more than I doo. Nice shirt.”

Olive was quick to snatch the bottle from him gratefully, muttering a small ‘thanks’ and sighing in relief as she pressed the frosted glass to her head, hair dulling the cold sensation enough to make it bearable.

Pickles’ chuckle rang out and sent goosebumps up her arms as he plopped down on the couch next to her, slinging an arm over her shoulders and puling her side flush to his, the smell of booze, weed, and cigarettes which constantly clung to him mixed with his natural scent invading her nostrils and having a surprisingly calming effect on her.

“Yer suppost tah drink it, babe, naht use it fer an icepack.”

“Yeah, well...,” Olive stuck her tongue out, flashing her tongue ring at him, scrunching up her nose and closing her eyes for added effect, “This is helping too.”

Another chuckle and crooked grin, and he leaned in close, eyes meeting hers with searing intensity and promise, voice dropping a bit with his next words.

“Yah know what else helps with headaches?”

Olive deadpanned at the insinuation, and Pickles’ smile only grew further, eyes twinkling in mirth.

“Asprin.”

She couldn’t help but snort, and turned her face from hm as his chest rumbled with laughter, shaking her head and taking a swig from the bottle in her hand, attempting to ease the hot blush on her cheeks from all the ways her dirty mind had conjured for Pickles to improve her mood.

Skwisgaar hadn’t been the only one trying his luck. The drummer’s flirting was becoming more and more commonplace as the days progressed and the two became closer. Their friendship was an easy one to fall into, and the flirting was fun and lighthearted, Pickles always taking her quick comebacks with stride and coming right back with his own.

And god damn it if her Inner Fangirl wasn’t absolutely preening from it all. Olive had had a giant squishy crush on Pickles ever since she had seen a recorded Snakes n’ Barrels concert in her teens, falling quickly for his cocky persona and crooked grin, not to mention how amazing he looked in those tight pants and eyeliner. That cute little celebrity crush had quickly morphed into a much more solid attraction after coming face to face with the drummer and being presented with his attention.

"Dis a snake tattoo?"

Wandering fingers tracing along her inked upper thigh sent an unexpected jolt of arousal through her body, and Olive was proud to say she withheld a squeak of surprise.

"Whaat kinda snake? I don't recahgnaize it."

"Its, um, a Japanese moccasin."

"Huh, nehver herd of it."

The fingers on her thigh splayed across her heated skin as Pickles gave a light squeeze the the plump flesh there.

"Yah should show me da rest of it."

The heat congregating on Olive's cheeks as the tips of Pickle’s fingers slipped under the edge of her shirt to caress higher on her thigh would be enough to fry an egg, she was sure.

"It, ah.. it goes up pretty far."

A positively lascivious smirk from the redhead left her unable to maintain eye contact, and she took a swig from her bottle as an excused to look away.

"Yeaah. I can tell."

Olive could feel his eyes still on her, but a shadow falling across the pair thankfully drew his gaze away from the flustered woman.

“Pickle. Olives. Mays I sits here?”

Any chance of ridding the blush from her cheeks was crushed as the blonde didn’t bother waiting for an answer, slinking into the empty seat on her other side, effectively sandwiching her between the two men as he settled in close enough to press his arm to hers, squishing Pickles’ other hand away from her shoulder and making the redhead readjust. The groupies who surrounded Nathan on the opposite end of the sofa looked over to squeal, and Skwisgaar turned to nod at them briefly, attention soon back on Olive, sneering lightly as he noticed the freckled hand on her leg.

At every turn she found herself between the two, each vying for her attention, caught in a nonstop flurry of heated glances and casual sensual touches, the sexual tension in the air suffocatingly palpable.

And damn them both, it was working. Luckily, she had become accustomed enough to keep her cool around them, even when faced with innuendos and lingering hands,

It wasn’t a good idea, sleeping with either them. Any of the band members, for that matter. They were her bosses, regardless of the rapidly developing friendships, and she didn’t want to risk her job after uprooting her entire life for it. And the last thing she wanted was for things to get awkward and weird.

But as Skwisgaar and Pickles eyed each other, blue eyes clashing with green, she couldn’t help but feel that was now inevitable. Olive was far from a saint, and expecting herself to maintain unaffected in such an environment, surrounded by attractive musicians trying to seduce her... well.

Eventually, something was going to give

.

This was not a good idea.

Not at all, in any way, shape or form, was this a good idea.

Yet here Olive was, allowing herself to be led through the winding stone halls of Mordhaus to Skwisgaar Swigelf's bedroom.

Between the copious amounts of booze and weed courtesy of Pickles, her mind was fuzzy, body tingly. There was no hope of her ever being able to keep up with the band as far as drinking and drugs went, what with her head being the way it was, she was more susceptible to inebriation than the average person, let alone fucking rock stars. 

But she had tried, at least at first, to hang, but had ended up cutting herself off long before Skwisgaar himself had stopped, Pickles having never ceased his constant intake. She was far from being the most intoxicated she had ever been, still aware enough to walk without stumbling and vision steady, but effected enough to throw caution to the wind and say screw being responsible, I’m going to fuck Skwisgaar Skwigelf.

To his credit, once the pair were alone in the hall, away from the dwindling party and the passed out redhead on the couch, the blonde had stopped her, looking deep into her eyes and asking if she was sober enough to be able to remember this in the morning.

“I plans to fucks you betters dan anyone evers has, there amnst any points to dis if you wonts be remembrinks it.”

After Olive managed to choke out an affirmative, touched by the gesture, having not expected such a sweet sentiment from the most renowned womanizer in the world, he had once again offered her his hand, his long legs insuring he was half dragging the shorter woman through the corridor.

The door to his quarters had barely closed as long fingers gently grasped either side of her face, tilting her head as his lean form towered over her, blonde locks cascading around them both, curtaining them from the rest of the world as velvety lips moulded to hers.

Skwisgaar kissed like the protagonist of a bodice ripper romance novel, slow and sensual but still filled with a deep, insatiable hunger for more, hands cupping Olive’s cheeks to steady her, and much to her own dismay, she felt herself becoming weak kneed from the treatment, hot flames of lust spreading out from her center and licking through her limbs, goosebumps overtaking her flesh.

All coherent thought had flown from Olive’s mind, brain consumed with the man stealing her breath with the glide of silky lips and exploring tongue and nipping teeth, and she barely registered that he was backing her up to the bed until she was pressed down by her shoulders. One of the Swede’s knees wedged between her own, sliding up to provide a delicious pressure to the ache at the apex of her thighs as he hovered over her, swallowing down a rather embarrassing moan from the woman beneath him as his tongue traced the roof of her mouth.

Skwsigaar pulled away, and Olive was nearly ashamed at the way her mouth followed him in an attempt to keep his lips on hers. The blonde knelt back and gathered his golden hair to one side, licking along his lips as he took in her flustered state; her lips shiny and red and swollen from his attention, a deep, dark blush starting at her temples and spreading down her face and neck, disappearing under the collar of her shirt.

Speaking of which, that desperately needed to be removed.

Cold fingers drifted up Olive’s fishnet covered thighs, tracing lightly along the edge of her top, and it dawned on her with a start that her dagger harness was still strapped to her thigh.

But it was entirely too late to stop the expertly wandering hands as they pushed up the hem, stopping short as they uncovered the black leather affixed to her leg, Skwisgaar’s face morphing from one of sensual hunger to confusion as he glanced up to meet her gaze.

“Yous, uh... carries a knife withs you?”

“Um, yeah. Y’now, just in case I need it.”

The only thing Olive could think to do was reach down and unbuckle the strap, sitting up to toss it over the edge of the mattress, stripping off her shirt while she was already upright. Blue eyes were immediately drawn to her bare chest, breasts full and mouthwatering, and trailed down the curves of her soft stomach and plump thighs, her body lightly padded though he could still make out the defined muscles hiding underneath.

Skwisgaar shook off the concerning discovery, deciding there were much more important matters at hand, like the two peaked, pierced nipples before him.

Calloused fingertips danced across her ribs, outlining the wing of her Nekhbet sternum tattoo, and traveled to caress the swell of her breasts with a feather light touch as his eyes darkened once more, eliciting a whimper from Olive, and he pressed her further back onto the plush bed, the fur blanket tickling against her exposed skin as he bowed his head to mouth at her neck, tongue tracing her pulse. His lips brushed lower and lower down the column of her throat, searing her skin with his touch, grazing over her collarbone and finally meeting his fingertips at her breast.

Olive inhaled sharply as the warmth of his mouth chased away the chill of his hands, back arching in an attempt to press further into his touch. A deep groan rumbled from Skwisgaar’s chest as he fluttered his tongue along her tan skin, teeth latching onto the metal bar and tugging lightly, drawing a wanton moan from her plush lips as her hips moved of their own accord, rocking up to grind herself against his knee, desperate for friction at her core.

"Skwisgaar..."

He made sure to lavish each mound with ample attention, not moving on until Olive was a writhing, squirming, panting mess under his touch. With quick hands he glided her tights over her round hips, hooking onto her black underwear and pulling them down as well, sitting back on his heels and lifting her legs to slide them off one foot, kissing along her calf as he rid her of the garments fully.

Smouldering, icey eyes flashed up to her as lips pressed to her ankle, planting open mouthed kisses up her calf while golden locks tickled against her legs, the ends grazing against her thigh and causing her to squirm. Long fingers stroked up her heated skin to trace over her damp folds, slipping between them just enough to tease and draw a long whine from Olive before removing them again in favor of groping her thigh, thumb pressing into the muscle where leg met pelvic bone and massaging.

“Mmm... stop teasing me...”

She felt more than saw his lips curl into a smirk, and yelped lightly as his teeth nipped at her.

“Ja? Tells to me whats you wants, den.”

Olive chewed her lip as a hot swell of arousal coursed though her body at his suggestion, and she opened her mouth to speak, but no words came to her.

Skwisgaar outright laughed at her for this, mocking and haughty, and brought his thumb up to ghost over the wetness leaking from her core, spreading it over her outer folds, touch barely there yet still setting her on fire as her hips bucked up in desperate need for more pressure.

The Swede ‘tsk’ed at her, rising to his feet to rid himself of his own restraining clothing, taking his sweet time and enjoying her gaze trailing his every move as he stripped, especially the way her eyes lit up as his cock was revealed.

It was perfect.

Olive wasn’t sure what else she had been expecting, but she still found herself mesmerized by the erect member as Skwisgaar gave a few lazy strokes. The size was fairly average, the shaft curving up in a gentle slope, a  mouth watering champagne happy trail leading down to small crop of soft, neatly kept blonde curls at the base, the smooth, pale skin fading to a soft pink gradient as it approached the plush head.

He was picturesque, standing before her with his lustrous flaxen hair falling in perfect waves, the pale skin stretched over his lithe form seeming to glow in the dim light of his room, impeccable cock standing at attention, ready and waiting patiently to send her to oblivion.

One could mistake him for an angel, if not for the conceited smirk on his face.

“Likings whats you sees, ja?”

Yeah. Definitely not angelic.

Gracefully climbing on top of her, Skwisgaar leaned in close, bumping the tip of his nose to hers, one hand planted next to her head supporting his weight while the other rubbed the tip of his cock softly against her lower lips, paying special care to her clit and sending shocks of pleasure through her veins.

“Yous wants dis in yous?”

Olive whimpered and nodded, still too overcome with the need to be filled to form a coherent sentence, and Skwisgaar laughed at her again.

“Says it, or yous gets no’ting.”

Gulping hard to move the lump in her throat, she managed to collect her bearings enough to find her voice.

“Skwisgaar, please. I need you to fuck me before I lose my god damn mind.”

“See? Not sos hards, ams it?”

A swift roll of his hips was all it took, and Olive had to grasp his shoulders to steady herself as the tip slipped finally, blissfully into her soaked, needy pussy, her moan of approval mixing with a soft groan from the blonde as her natural lubricant allowed him to thrust in to her tight heat with ease, her silken walls quivering around him as he pulled out, only to plunge back in with more fervor, sheathing himself fully and circling his hips as her legs wrapped around his hips, toes curled in pleasure.

A pale arm snaked it’s way under the curve of her lower back, lifting her torso slightly to provide a better angle as he began to rock into her slow and steady, making sure Olive could feel every inch of his cock sliding against her insides.

God.

Oh god.

It was unbelievable. It couldn’t be real, the way Skwisgaar’s cock was making her feel just from this, from basic, slow missionary, of all things. He thrust into her as if he had known her body for years, tip of his cock angled expertly to press deliciously into her gspot, his pelvic bone rubbing against her clit in just the right way. He had barely touched her, barely done anything, yet her body was reacting as if he had been edging her for hours, and she felt an orgasm approaching fast, blindingly, ridiculously fast, her blood molten and flaming as it coursed through her veins, the coil in her lower abdomen pulled taught ready to snap.

All it took was soft lips pressed to her ear, a derisive voice muttering, “Goings tos come fors me alreadys? How cutes.” and Olive was sent catapulting over the edge, walls griping his cock hard and milking the still thrusting member in vain, muscles convulsing as her head was tossed back in bliss.

“Holy fuck, Skwisgaar...”

The Swede graciously stalled his movements, giving her a moment to catch her breath as he sat back on his heels, shit eating grin on his face as he thumbed her throbbing clit slowly, making her jolt and clamp her walls around his cock.

This was, of course, the worst possible moment for the door to slam open, and both of their heads snapped to the interruption, eyes wide, Olive still panting and impaled on Skwisgaar’s cock.

“Schkwischgaar, isch Olive... Oh, schit!”

One look at Murdeface’s hand holding a cloth saturated with deep red to his thigh, dripping blood onto the pristine floor was all it took to snap Olive into action, and she bolted up on shaky legs, snatching her shirt off the floor and yanking it on, hurrying to the shell shocked Murderface and kneeling down to inspect the wound, leaving a wide eyed, unsatisfied Skwisgaar on the bed.

“Moidaface, what de fucks? Yous interruptinks, gets out!”

“What? Fuck you, I’m fucking bleeding to death over here!”

Olive scowled at their bickering, standing and turning Murderface by his shoulders to push him from the room.

“Fucking hell, come on, go to my room, this is going to need stitches. What happened? ”

Murderface had the decency to look sheepish, avoiding eye contact as they slipped into the hallway, followed by a scowling Skwisgaar who was using the fur blanket as a make shift robe, blood still oozing from the wound trailing them down the hall, staining the slate stones a deep red.

“I, uh... I was juscht, you know... Schtabbing schome schtuff, and uh, I misched and got my leg on acshident.“

Olive gave the limping man an incredulous look.

"You stabbed yourself?”

The trio reached her room quickly, and she grabbed the large first aid kit which she kept stoked with medium injury supplies as well, instructing Murderface to sit in the desk chair, a sulking, irritated Skwisgaar plopping down on her bed to wait.

Setting the kit on the desktop and popping the latch, Olive snapped on some gloves, removing the peroxide, betadine, and lidocaine, rapidly cleaning and disinfecting the area before numbing it, then threading the needle, much to the horror of the injured man.

“Oh, jeschusch, you’re really juscht gonna schew me up right here?”

“Unless you want to pass out from blood loss, yes.”

Startled voices from the hall drew Skwisgaar’s attention, and he further deflated as a wasted Pickles and Toki both barged into the room. He was never going to get off tonight.

“Dood, whats wit’ all da blood?” Pickles was slurring a bit, eyes redder than they had been all night as they glanced between Olive, with her mussed hair and kissed-pink lips, and the fully naked Swede draped only in a fur blanket on her bed.

“Ams you okays, Olives?”

Toki was by her side in an instant, concerned and looking her over to make sure she wasn’t the source of the blood trail that had drawn them in from the hall.

“Really? I’m the one that’sch bleeding here! Sche’sch fine! OW! Jeschusch, I thought you numbed thisch schit?!”

Olive had taken the opportunity of the distraction to begin stitching the wound up, but had missed her mark as Murderface shifted, poking him out of the range of the numbing agent.

“If you would hold still it wouldn’t hurt. Stop squirming.”

“Guys... what the fuck is everyone yelling about in here? I’m trying to get laid and all we can hear- is... is that blood?”

A shirtless Nathan had appeared in the doorway as well, taking in the scene before him; a bleeding and whining Murderface in the desk chair with Olive kneeling before him sewing his leg shut, Toki watching with curious eyes, and a very annoyed, pouting Skwisgaar lounging on the bed, clad only in white fur, trying to ignore the glare he was being leveled with by a very drunk, lightly swaying on his feet Pickles.

“I’m, uh, I’m just gonna... gonna go back to bed. You guys, uh, have fun.”

.

I’m not entirely happy with this one, but I still put a lot of effort in. Please let me know what you think, I crave the validation.

[terraisnotonfire-blog]

Erin Chapter 1

"It's all about the four Bs" Loramir held up four fingers to demonstrate, taking a hand off the table he was supposed to be helping carry.

"What are you talking about" Volfram had been handling the load just fine by himself so he didn't really have to adjust for the shift in weight distribution.  It was something he was used to, Loramir's assistance was usually more metaphorical than physical.

"The key to the success of any adventuring group is that their members meet the four Bs."  By this point Loramir had taken both hands off the table and was now waking beside Volfram.  "Beauty, this is me of course.  Brawns, you, obviously.  And then Hannah was our brains.  But considering her meltdown yesterday, maybe her brains weren't all there after all."

"Loramir!  She was our friend." Volfram slammed the table down, partially because he had arrived at their destination, and partially because slamming things down for emphasis was a habit of his.  Unfortunately the thud was much less satisfying when hitting soft grass and dirt

"Was being the operative word. Friends do not just leave."  Volfram grumbled in response.  It was hard to argue that point

"Yeah, well that's only three, what's the fourth?"

Loramir sat on to the massive table, his long legs still able to dangle off the ground as he swung them playfully.  "I'm still working on that one.  There is some ineffable quality, I can't quite put my finger on.  But both Bigsby and Firo had it.  And The Alchemist had it as well."

"Is it being reckless and stupid and getting themselves killed?"

"No that doesn't start with a B. Its something else.  I'll think of it."

Volfram scanned the area.  They were in a clearing in the middle of a dense forest, miles from town with only themselves, a table, and hundreds of trees within sight. "Loramir, we don't have any chairs."

"Who needs chair when you have . . " Loramir paused with bated breath, fishing in his pocket as he waited for his friend to finish the sentences

Volfram breathed a heavy sigh, ". . .pocket thrones."

"POCKET THRONES!"  With much gusto, Loramir threw two small pieces of metal down on the ground. He waited a few moments for Volfram to get out of the way before he shouted "THE MAGIC WORD!"  Instantly, the two small objects exploded in to their full size, going from a mere inch, to nearly 8 foot tall.  Or they would be if they were standing up straight, instead one had landed on its side and the other was laying face down in the dirt.  Volfram righted both of the ornately decorated and uphlostered thrones, moved them closer to the table and plopped down in the one on the left.  Loramir dusted off the other, fluffed up its red velvet cushioning, and draped himself across it, his back propped against one armrest, his legs dangling over the other.  Loramir pulled an apple out of his robe and began polishing it on his sleeve. "And now we wait."

"Why do you insist on 'olding,er, I mean holding, tryouts in the middle of nowhere anyway?"

"Simple," Loramir replied through a mouth full of apple, "its the first test.  Anyone who lacks the skills or energy to come and find us is not worth our time. Its an easy way to weed out the undesirables.

It was quiet morning on the road, which was odd for this time of year and day, only two figures could be seen, a girl and a wolf.  The girl, Erin, was young, early 20s, and utterly remarkable in how unremarkable she was, with the exception of her outfit.  Beneath her traveler's cloak, she wore a set of the finest leather armor that most would ever see in their life, exquisetly hand stitched and with a wolf's head embroidered on the left side of the chest.  She had a recurve bow slung over her right shoulder with a quiver of arrows strapped to her back. A pair of daggers hung at her side, along with a wineskin, a couple of small pouches and little else.  She turned back and whistled as she patted her leg, "Come on Princess!  Come on girl."  A few yards back, a lean, grey wolf's ear perked up, turned her head away from the pile of refuse that she had been sniffing in, noticed the girl calling for her, and sauntered back, panting.  The warm summer sun made things rather warm in her thick fur coat..  Erin knelt down to embrace her  and scratch behind her ears.  "Oh good girl, gooooood girl.  Who's my pretty girl?"  Erin looked in to Princess's eyes, the left was a radiant golden yellow, the left was an icy blue with long eyelashes, eye shadow, and also happened to be painted on the back of a tattered eye patch that covered a series of three jagged scars. "You are!  Yes you are."  Princess's ears perked up and her tail wagged as her face shifted in to what could only be classified as a smile before savagely attacking Erin with her tongue.  "Oh no, no licks.  Oh gross, I don't know where that mouth has been.  Well, I do, and it only makes it worse." Erin pushed the wolf back and ruffled the fur on her neck a couple more times before standing up and brushing herself off.

Erin took a moment to scan the horizon.  The road continued forward with small cottages dotting the landscape, clustered closer and closer together the farther back they got until they reached a massive spired wall that encompassed the landlock sides of the sprawling port city of Innastorm. "Stay close, Princess.  This place isn't anything like back home.  Wolves running around in the street digging through trash isn't looked upon well in places like this.  While we're here, you have to act like you're my pet, which means you need to be on your best behavior, okay?"  The wolf's ears dropped and her face sank indicating that she understood but wasn't happy about it.  "OH don't be such a grump!  Come on."  Erin strode toward the city, purposefully and with her head held high.  Meanwhile Princess followed behind with her head hung low and her tail dragging the ground.  But Erin wasn't going to let her friend's attitude problem ruin her day, her mind was on other things.  After several days of traveling she was nearly there.  She was almost a real deal adventurer.

Before long she found herself within the walls of Innastorm.  It truly was like nothing she had ever seen. There were buildings all around her, all crammed up next to each other, with many even sharing walls.  Everywhere she looked there were people, talking, walking, just doing and being.  The ground was all either cobblestone or mud, not a speck of green in sight. And it just went on as far as the eye could see.  "Wow this really is nothing like home.  I guess we're gonna need directions if we ever hope to find out destination.  Hmmm."  Erin took a moment the scan the crowd milling about in front of her as well as all the adjacent peoples before her eyes settled on a dwarf running a fruit cart.  "Ahh there we go," she remarked as she made her ways towards her.  "Excuse me Ma'am, I would like to buy an apple, and a pomegranate if you have any."

"Ah a pomegranate, a girl of particular tastes.  I take it you're not from her originally." The saleswoman pulled an apple from one of the display crates and began to polish it, eyeing the wolf warily.

"Nope, I'm from a small little farming village back a few days east of here"  Noticing the saleswoman's unease at the beast beside her, she began to scratch Princess's ears, a gesture the wolf very much enjoyed it and was not shy about showing how much she enjoyed it.

"Farming village out east, huh? How'd you come across pomegranate?"  The woman placed the freshly polished apple on the counter and, having seen the wolf seemed to be no cause for concern, stooped down behind the cart and began rummaging around in a few boxes behind the stall.

"Well you see, my mom actually managed to get a pomegranate tree to grow back home.  Green thumb like you wouldn't believe.  Dad said she once made a rose bloom in the middle of winter."

"Fascinating.  It is quite uncommon for a tree like that to grow in such an environment.  It must have had very rich soil to flourish in."

Erin thought of her mom, her glow and her vibrant energy.  The way she tended to her cuts and scrapes when she came back from her adventures in the forest, or pretend sword fights with the other kids.  She remembered the family dinners, the cold winter nights huddled together for warmth.  She remembered the way she would braid her hair while humming her favorite song.  She remembered her being their to listen to just anything she had on her mind.  She sniffled and wiped a tear from her eye."Yeah, I'd say that's accurate."  

"Ah, here we go."  The shopkeep rose from the back of the stall holding aloft a not particularly pretty, but fresh and ripe fruit.  The shopkeeper noticed the  tears in the girls eyes.  "I'm sorry this is all we have, they mostly grow in the south, and there's not a lot of demand so--" "No no, its okay, I swear everything is fine." She wiped her face on her sleeve and sniffed again, forcing a laugh. "I don't suppose you could tell me where the Angry Squid is?"

"Ah, I thought you might be the adventuring type."  The dwarf decided to play along in order to ease the palpable tension.  "Explains why you traveled all the way here.  You're looking for the port district.  Just keep heading west down the main thoroughfare you came in on, they're right on the main road, hard to miss with their sign.  If you start to see a lot of sailors walking about, you're getting close.  If you wind up in the ocean, you went too far.

Erin chuckled as she handed over a few coins and grabbed the fruit. "Thank you, I hope you have a splendid day, hope to see you again."

"And I as well, safe travels young one."  The shopkeep smiled as she waved to the departing girl. She really did hope she would see her again.  Her warmth was infectious and to see it snuffed out so young like so many other young adventurers like herself truly would be a tragedy.

It didn't take much longer before she had arrived at her destination.  And the fruit woman had been right about the sign.  A flashily painted 8 ft tall sign of a massive irate squid holding a helpless sailor in each tentacle was in fact very hard to miss.  It would be easy to find even if you were piss drunk, which judging by the clientele loitering around the outside of the establishment, was likely a selling point.  Erin swallowed the seed of fear forming in the back of her throat took a deep breath, held her head high and strode through the saloon doors.

The first thing she noticed when she walked through was the noise.  All around her people were talking, and music was playing but she couldn't figure out from where.  She had hoped to make more of an interest, that every one would have gotten quiet and turned to look when she walked in, but she was starting to get the idea that in a place of this size, they probably get half a dozen people like her walk in every day.  The next thing she noticed was the size.  It had seemed pretty big on the outside, but now that she was inside it seemed even larger, at least twice the size of the inn back home.  After she took a moment to let the immensity of the place sink in, she took a moment to get the details..  

It was a split level establishment with many doors lining the walls of the lower level as well as the upper balcony.  On the walls of either side of the door she came through were two large boards covered with various papers. Throughout the rest of the establishment, every square inch of available wall space was dedicated to a plague or trophy commemorating one thing or another.  The floor was littered with food debris of all kinds, some of it quite old, as well as the occasional broken plate or cup.  Clearly this place was not concerned with cleanliness or appearances.  Around the room as well as up on the balconies, were several tables of various sizes, many of them occupied.  Some seated only a couple of individuals, some held upwards of ten.  Every so often a group would be joined by an individual, then they would go to one of the many doors and head in. Sometimes a group would come out of one of those rooms and split up. At the center of the room was a large pillar surrounded by many shelves.  Upon the shelves lay more bottles than Erin could ever hope to count..  A circular bar ran around the outside of the bass of the pillar, around which many patrons were huddled.  Laying on top of the bar was a gnome of swarthy complexion and chestnut hair.  He wore a white tunic with a  low neckline exposing a light amount of chest hair.  It was hard to gauge the age of a gnome, but the specks of grey in his hair and the light wrinkles around his eyes indicated that he was getting on in years.  He lay on his side as he rested his head on his outstretched palm and took infrequent long drags from a pipe he held in his other hand.  He had locked eyes on her when she had walked in and as far as she could tell he was the only one paying attention to her.  He waved at her with his pipe

She took a moment to steel herself for whatever may come next and made her way to the bar.  When she drew close, the man greeted her "Hello, welcome to the Angry Squid." The man spoke with an accent she couldn't quite place.   My name is Sawyer, what brings you to this fine establishment?  Just a drink, or something more?"

"Well, with any luck its both. Can I get a cider?" "No problem."  Sawyer waved his pipe and suddenly an empty glass floated off the shelf in front of her.  It drifted over and up a few shelves before stopping in front of a keg.  The cork suddenly freed itself and brown liquid poured out in to the mug.  After a moment, when the glass reached its capacity, the keg re-corked itself and the mug floated back down and finished its journey in front of Erin.  "And the something more?"  He flashed a cocksure grin.

"Huh, neat trick."  The mug was of clear glass with a handle wrapped in leather.  The actual glass of the mug was covered in a thin layer of frost, but the handle remained warm.  She wiped some of the frost off with a finger, and within a few moment the section was covered once again in ice.  She lifted the glass above her head to see a series of pale blue runes glowing on the underneath side.  "Fascinating."

"Yes, its my own handiwork. Everfrost mugs.

"Never had anything this fancy back home."  She took a moment to appreciate the glass after polishing off the drink and setting it down.

"Ah, small town girl.  You're probably seeking the adventure boards."  He gestured with his pipe towards the two large boards on either side of the door she had come through.  "Based on your outfit and companion, I'm guessing you're the adventuring type, so you probably want the one on the left, its the party board.  Its for people seeking additional adventuring companions, the one on the right is the quest board, its for people looking to hire adventurers for work.  But a word of warning since you're new around here and I likes the cut o yer jib. I saw the guys from The Magnificent Monarchs putting up a flier this morning, stay away from them.  Trust me, they are more trouble than they are worth.  Everywhere they go, they bring nothing but chaos." Erin's ears perked up at the sound of her favorite word

"Magnificent Monarchs, chaos, noted.  Hey could you whip me up a bit of vodka and orange juice. I've got a hunch I'm gonna need it."

"Ah yes, a screwdriver, I am familiar with it.  If an ex sailor knows anything, its his liquor, especially the kind that prevents scurvy."

"Excellent."  Erin slapped a few coins down on the counter and walked over to the board.  All across it were papers and parchments of all descriptions.  Some were individuals looking to join existing groups, other were for groups needing to fill spots.  She just scanned over them, looking for the right one.  Finally, she noticed it at the very top of the board, nearly ten feet up.  She jumped and tried to reach for it but it was well out of her grasp. She pushed a few people out of her way, muttered a few words under her breath as something formed in her grasp and she shot her hand forwards.  Suddenly a thick green vine extended forth and wrapped around the parchment, she gave it a simple tug and the vine retracted back leaving her with only the paper in her grasp.

"HEY!" the voice of the barkeep cried out behind her. "Read the sign."  He pointed towards a large sign above the bar which loudly declared "THE USE OF SPELLS OR WEAPONS ON PREMISES IS STRICTLY PROHIBITED"

"Sorry, new here."

"Yeah I know, just make sure it doesn't happen again."  He grumbled something under his breath about small towns and went back to minding the bar as Erin examined the flier she was now clutching.

THE MAGNIFICENT MONARCHS

Now seeking very excellent applicants

Anything less than the absolute best of the best need not apply

Today only Your first test is finding us

Good Luck

After reading over it a few times to make sure she didn't miss any additional information, she stooped down and held it in front of Princess for a few moments to allow her to sniff it thoroughly, she grabbed a tack from the bin below the board, stuck it back up in an empty spot and then headed back to the bar.

"So barkeep, what can you tell me about--

"Two guys, one of em is an elf in fancy robes, the other looks like a bear skin rug draped over a mountain.  How did I know you would beeline straight for em?" The gnome slid another mug towards the woman.

"What can I say, I'm a girl who likes her chaos.  And I think I'll be taking this to go." Erin pulled out her wineskin, popped the cork off and poured the contents of the mug inside.

"Well, don't say I didn't try to warn ya.  And my name is Sawyer by the way, you'll be needing to know it.  I'm the one you'll be coming to when they ask you to pay off their bar tabs."

Erin looked over her shoulder as she walked out the door.  "Good, cause I look forward to talking to you again.  My name is Erin, by the way, you'll be needing to remember it for the plaque they're gonna put up for me one day."

Sawyer smiled and waved as she left.  "I look forward to that day, Erin.  Safe travels. OH, and tell those two they better bring my table back in one piece."

Erin stepped a few feet outside and then knelt down to Princess "Okay girl, you remember the scent from that paper?  Find it!"  Immediately, the wolf took to the ground, hunkering low and sniffing the area.  After a few moments, the wolf locked on to a scent and begun after it.  With Erin in tow, they shortly found themselves around the back of the building with Princess barking and jumping and attempting to climb a stack of boxes resting against the back of the Saloon.  "So they're up there girl?  Interesting, hide right under everyone's noses.  I like their style.  Okay, wait here girl, I'm going up."  With a hop and a scramble she sound found herself on top of the boxes and pulling herself up on to the establishment's roof, with the help of a couple of groans and strains and an encouraging yip from Princess.

Once she was up, she immediately noticed one cloaked figure on the opposite end of the roof from her, holding some object aloft.  It was small, too small to be an elf.  And there was no sign of a mountain wearing a bear skin rug.  But whoever this was, they likely had some connection to the flyer since their scent was all over.  It was worth a closer investigation.  She decided to creep up closer and perhaps figure out what it was holding before making her presence known, but no sooner had she taken a single step on the roof top, the figures head snapped around causing their hood to blow back, revealing their face.  He stuffed what appeared to be a spyglass in to his cloak and strode closer to Erin.

It was obvious that he was a Muridian at a glance, the fur, the whiskers, the rat-like features. Despite being from a small town nowhere near their kingdom, she still knew a thing or two about them.  There was an elderly Muridian couple, the Hughes's in the town she grew up in.  They were very pleasant folks who often came to her parents shop, they would sometimes share home made dishes with her family.  She was rather a fan of Muridian cuisine.  "Umm excuse me, are you--"

"HA!  If you followed me up here that means you no doubt seek the same quarry."  His voice was a deep and booming baritone, something she did not expect from his small, four foot frame.  Mr and Mrs Hughes both spoke in high squeaky tones.  "You're a fool if you think I would give any information to my competition."  He was now close enough to get a good look.  Across both his face and body, fur was missing in several patches, some forming jagged lines, others were in round or oblong splotches.  It reminded her of the scars Princess wore under her eyepatch.  His leather armor was similarly marred, covered in scratches, punctures, and burn marks, with a large hole in the stomach region.  He wore a bandolier across his chest of various pouches, and another one as a belt.  Dangling from his waist appeared to be a large wooden mallet on one side and a case of crossbow bolts on the other.  A thick leather strap running perpendicular across his chest to the bandoleer and a large bulge in his cloak indicated he likely had a crossbow slung across his back to go with the bolts.  He ran his fingers through the short coif of hair atop his head.  "Not like I have anything to tell you.  This lookout is a wash.  The walls of the city are too high, I can't see over them."

"Oh that's okay, I'm just--" Erin attempted to interject but was interrupted once again

"I fear I must depart now.  But I will leave you with this."  He reached out his small hand in an offer to shake hers.  Erin obliged.  "Never wash this hand.  When the whole world knows my name and my heroic deeds, this will be a treasured memory to share with all your friends."  His eyes shone like sparkling emeralds as he gave her a wink, upon which he released her hand and sprinted away, leaping to and adjacent rooftop

"I DIDN'T EVEN GET YOUR NAME!"  She yelled after him, but it was no use, he was lost in his own world and several buildings away at this point.  She watched him for a moment until he eventually disappeared out of sight, shrugged her shoulders and climbed back down to where Princess was eagerly awaiting.  "Well that was certainly interesting. Looks like we have some competition for a spot on that team.  We better get a move on while the tracks are still fresh."

The pair made their way back to the front of the building as Erin reviewed what she knew. Two individuals, one of which was quite large, and carrying a table. This should mean his tracks would be quite large and deepset, if they weren't on cobblestone that is.  However, thanks to her run in with the strange Muridian, she had a hunch they weren't likely to be on the streets anywhere or he would have spotted them with his spyglass. And since they took a table with them, odds are they were going somewhere they would need to bring their own furniture, so anywhere indoors was unlikely as well.  Her gut told her they were somewhere outside the city.  To the west was nothing but ocean, and she had come in from the East and seen no one matching their description on her way in, which meant they likely went out either the north gate or south gate.  On the way in to town, she had taken note of the landscape.  To the north was nothing but wide open fields, didn't seem like there would be any place secretive to set up.  On the south side were several groves of trees, her best guess for where they were camped out, so she decided to head in that direction.  On her way out she stopped to ask people in the streets if they had seen anyone matching their description heading out of town.  Recollections were often hazy at best but most people she talked to were able to recall a large beast of a man with a table and an elf dressed too rich for this part of town heading towards the south gate.

Upon leaving the city and finding herself on the muddy road out of town, it didn't take long to find the tracks she was looking for.  They were massive indeed and sunken quite far in to the ground.  Even factoring the table the man was carrying, she could tell by how deep they were that the descriptions she had heard of this man's size weren't as grossly over exaggerated as she had thought.  The tracks continued down the road for some distance.  After about 10 minutes she came upon a broken down wagon off to the side of the road.  She was focused on the tracks and not her surroundings, a rookie mistake, so she paid it no heed, or else she might have noticed the trio of bandits doing a very poor job of hiding behind it.  As soon as she was within ambushing range, the three of them jumped out, brandishing spears.

"My my my, what 'ave we here?"  The largest man, the one on the right spoke first."

The scrawny one on the left spoke next.  "A tasty little tart, innit?  What say you boys, who wants second crack at her when I'm down."  The trio of ne'erdowells broke out in to raucous laughter.  Suddenly, the one in the center whom she guessed to be the leader grew stone faced and leveled his spear at her.  

"But seriously, this is a robbery, unless you want it to turn in to a murder, I suggest yous drop your valuables and run back to wherever it is you come from.  And that includes that fancy armor you got."  Princess began to growl and bare her teeth

"Whoa there!  Ey Boss, what we gonna do about this mutt?"  The bandit on the left lowered his spear towards the wolf.

"Looks good enough to eat.  I reckon we cook it up and wolf it down."  The bandit on the right laughed at his own joke

"I ain't decided yet. Oi, you.  Calm your beast before I do it for you."  The leader gestured towards the wolf menacingly before leveling it at Erin once again.

"Easy there, no problem.  Princess!"  Erin whistled loudly, her friend immediately stopped growling and turned to look at her.  The girl made a series of hand signals, and the wolf sat down, seemingly calm and relaxed.  "As you can see, Princess is very smart, and eating her would be a waste.  I don't have much in the way of valuables, and what few possessions I do have are sentimental, but if you let me live, you can have her.  I'll even teach you all the hand signals."

"Hmmm, 'at dudn't sound too bad.  I reckon we gots a deal.  But no funny business. Drop yer weapons first and step back."

"That sounds fair. Can't be too careful." She pulled the bow off her shoulder and tossed it on  to the ground a couple of feet to her right. She took the quiver off next, tossing it haphazardly causing it to fly end over end and spill its content all across the ground.  "That just leaves the daggers."  She lowered her hands slowly and cautiously, sure not to make any sudden moves.  "Here we. . " as soon as her hands found their grips on the handle of each blade, the corners of her mouth curled slightly upwards, "go." As soon as the last word was out of her mouth, she flung the daggers at the man pointing his spear at Princess, pegging him square in the chest and right arm.  Before he hit the ground, Princess lunged at the man in the center, knocking him to the ground, pinning him as she clamped down on his throat with her fangs.  While this was happening and the third man was trying to figure out what kind of violence to respond with, Erin dropped and rolled over to her bow, grabbing it and an arrow as she did so.  By the time the third man looked back at her she had her aim trained squarely on his head.

"Uh uh uh. Make the wrong move and things will get a lot worse for you and your friends." She looked to the man in the center struggling to get the wolf off of him.  "That includes you, I suggest you quit resisting.  You keep up like that and Princess will have to bite down harder just to keep a grip, and I don't think you want that.  Bleeding aint too fun, just ask your friend over there."  The tall man dropped his spear and the leader quit struggling.

"She's right.  This 'urts real goddamn bad.  Stupid bitch."  The man on the left clutched at the daggers as he writhed in pain.

"Watch your mouth or I'll let Princess have a second crack at you when I'm done." Erin walked over and kicked some dirt on to the man and spat in his face, all while keeping the bow tracked on the man still standing. "Now normally this would be the part where I get the authority's involved, but I'm kind of in a rush.  So here's the offer you get instead.  When I pull the daggers out of your man here, he's gonna start losing a lot more blood.  If the lot of you get a move on, you should be able to get to town before he dies of blood loss.  And then if I ever catch wind of any of you three pulling shit like this ever again, I aim for the heart next time.  And Princess has got all of your scents so if you try anything funny, we'll literally smell you coming a mile away.  Understood?"

"Ye-yeah." The leader gargled through a partially strangled throat.

"Good." Erin planted a foot on the chest of the scrawny man, and grabbed her daggers.  He screamed as she gave them  each a small twist each before ripping them out.  Erin whistled and Princess released her grip and strode back beside her partner.  "Now get out of here. And remember, no funny business."

"Yes ma'am."  The two unwounded men rushed over to their comrade, picked him up, and began hauling him back to town.  She watched them for a minute to make sure they weren't up to something.  Once they were out of ear shot, she let out a big exhale and untensed.

"Oh my fucking god, that was intense.  I can't believe that worked.  I guess it is true what they say about practice.  And then the way I cracked out those quips.  DAMN!  You'd think I'd done that before.  Oh man, I need to take a minute to relax.  Breathe.  And pick up all these goddamn arrows.  Come on Princess."  Erin looked over to see Princess scowling at her.  "Oh of course, you were great too.  The way you acted like everything was cool right up until the moment you attacked, that was phenomenal.  And you nailed the hand signals perfectly, you were amazing. . .   What?  I said you were great, why are you still looking at my like that. . .  WHAT?  Look, I wasn't lying, he should make it back to town alive.  Assuming they staunch his wounds.  Oh, and how is it my fault if they don't know proper wound dressing.  That's basic survival.  Like knowing what is bad to eat.  I'm sure they'll figure it out. Or run fast enough.  Maybe they'll get lucky and run in to a cleric."  Erin finished picking up the last of her arrows and slung her quiver back over her shoulder and then doing the same on the opposite shoulder with her bow.

"Come on, we got places to be."  Erin took off down the trail.  Princess sat for a minute before huffing loudly and following after her.  "Ya know Princess, if you're gonna be an adventurer, you're gonna have to get used to a little blood loss.  It's kind of a big deal in this line of work.  Now hurry up.  It's midday, I wanna find these guys so we can eat."  Princess obliged and picked up the pace.  Before long the tracks left the road and in to a field.  But even with out the aid of mud and dirt, the trail of trampled grass was easy enough to follow, and before long they were at a forest.  

"Okay Princess, keep quiet.  My instinct tells me we're close.  Be on guard, who knows what's in here."  Erin immediately fell in to her hunting stance, low and quiet, with bow and arrow at the ready.  Princess broke off by about 15 feet and began the approach as well.  The trail was easier than ever to follow, not only was the disruption to the ground cover massive, but their were also trees with freshly broken branches at 10 feet off the ground.  She was starting to paint a picture as to just how gargantuan this individual was.  Suddenly her attention was attracted by the sound of  three scratches.  Erin looked over to see Princess's ears were perked up with her gaze locked on a point in the distance.  From where she stood, she couldn't make anything out in the distance, so she climbed up a nearby tree leaping from treetop to treetop trying to get closer. After about 30 feet she could hear the sound of someone humming, and just barely visible from her vantage point was a clearing in the exact direction that the sound was coming from and it just so happened to be also be the direction Princess's vision was focused. She had finally found them.  Now it was time to make an entrance. She looked down to Princess and flashed a series of signals and smiled.  Time to go to work.

Volfram often liked to hum as he did busy work.  It was something his mother always did and it made things more pleasant.  Today, the busy work was polishing his hand axes.  He didn't break them out too often, preferring to rely on his constant companion, Morganna, a large double headed greataxe.   The humming, while serene and relaxing to him, often had the unfortunate side effect of putting people to sleep as it had done to Loramir once again, whose head lay drooling on the table.  Volgram was reflecting wistfully upon his childhood, when the noise of rustling leaves to the north caught his attention.  But before he could get up to investigate he heard another sound, a branch snapping, this time to the south.  He looked over to his companion to see him still sound asleep, so he shook him violently by the shoulder.  "Loramir, I think we got company.  And I don't like the sound of it."

Loramir rubbed his bleary eyes and blinked his way back to consciousness.  "Oh, do we finally have applicants," he mumbled groggily.

"I don't think so. Coming from multiple sides, both of our flanks, might be an ambush." Volfram hissed in a whisper

"Don't you think that's a little unlikely?"

"With how many people you piss off, I'm shocked you don't think it is likely."

"Fair point.  Okay then, I guess I'll take left and you take right.  Honestly, you better hope half-assing this is enough, cause that's about all the ass I've got to give right now."

"Just shut up and pretend like you know how to take something seriously for once." Loramir grumbled and pulled out a pair of blades and crept forward when suddenly they both heard the sound of something scratching against wood somewhere behind them, to the East.  Volfram's hand reached for Morganna as he started to make his way toward it as Loramir followed suit, when suddenly the sound of a bowstring releasing made him spin around.  A woman, whom he could swear was definitely not there a minute ago, was now standing in the clearing on the other side of the table.

"Hello my name is Erin."  He was confused by this, but he was also confused by the sound of an arrow releasing but no sound of an arrow impact.  He noticed she was was looking way up, far above his head so he followed his gaze with hers, to see the arrow high up in the air and beginning to arc back towards the ground with a trajectory of roughly where he was standing now.  He took a few steps to the side and Loramir, not knowing what was going on,but knowing to trust Volfram's judgement did the same.  Moments before the arrow hit the ground, a grey blur of fur, ripped through the treeline charged across the clearing, leaped, catching the arrow in mid air, landed on the table before using the momentum to leap again in to Erin's outstretched arms.  "And this is Princess, and we'd like to join your team."  Princess snapped the arrow in her jaws before barking enthusiastically.  Erin set her down all while cooing at  her and rubbing her ears and telling her what a good girl she was.

Volfram immediately began clapping enthusiastically.  "You're in."

"What?  You can't just decide who gets to join on your own."

"She has a wolf, I like wolves, she's on the team."

"She hasn't even passed all the tests yet."

"Like what?"

"Well there's the applicable skills test, the trial by combat of course, then there is the talent portion."

"Well she found us, you said that was the first test, so she's already passed that."

Erin wasn't sure whether or not butting in was a good idea but she decided to do it anyway.  "If it's battle experience you want, there's a trio, well, maybe a duo, of bandits back in Innastorm who can tell you all about my combat prowess.  As for applicable skills, I am a master of tracking and survival skills.  I have spent considerable time in the wilds with little to no tools on hand, and as you can see I pack light.  Plus I can do neat things with vines, see?"  She lunged her hand forward and a whip shot out and lashed around a table sitting on the table, and with a flick she pulled it back to her and took a bite. "Oh gross, its all mealy"

"Yeah, it's not very good.  That is why I did not finish it and it was just sitting there."

"See Loramir, she's passed all the tests, and plus that intro was rad.  She's in."

"Well what about the evening wear?"

Erin tossed back her cloak and struck a power pose.  "What you've got a problem with my armor?"

"No actually.  It's honestly quite lovely.  But there is still the personality quiz."

"She likes wolves. Anyone who likes wolves is good people.  She's in."

"Ugh fine, but--"

Suddenly the sound of hissing began to fill the clearing.  Smoke began to pour out of the ground and fill the clearing.  Erin raised her cloak to shield her mouth from the fumes as she tried to fan them away with her other hand.  Loramir and Volfram did the same.  After a moment, when the clearing was so full of smoke that no one could see anyone or anything else, a loud baritone voice rang out.

"When men tell tales of the awesome might of the hero who struck down the Demon Bull of Gorgos with a mighty hammer blow while impaled upon its horn, it is I of whom they speak.  When women gossip of the great warrior who impaled the black heart of Dread Lord Viscont, it my name upon their lips.  When children dream of growing up to be as brave as the one who climbed in to the fearsome maw of the massive Corpse Lion of Panzor to remove the gem giving it life, it is my face in their minds.  I have climbed insurmountable heights and crashed through impenetrable barriers, nothing on this Earth can stand in my way. Yes it is I, Jess, the Mighty!"  Just as his monologue finished, the smoke cleared enough for the trio to make out a scarred Muridian standing atop a pile of skulls on the opposite end of the clearing, arms crossed, red cape billowing in a nonexistent breeze.

Volfram took a moment to parse what had just happened and found it hard to reconcile the disparity between what he had heard and seen up until this point. "He's insane."

"He's batshit crazy." Lorarmir's eyes sparkled with wonder

"Yeah, I know, that's what I just said."

"You don't get it. He's our fourth B.  Brains, beauty, brawn, and batshit crazy.  He's perfect."

"You can't just decide he's part of the team."

"You got to pick wolf girl, so I'm picking the rat with a death wish."

"Ugh fine, but when this one dies, can we please pick a more sensible choice next time."

"Oh no buddy boy, he's not dying.  Didn't you hear his speech, he's got to be goddamned invincible."

"Don't you think that maybe he might be lying"

Loramir recoiled in mock indignation.  "Oh come now sir, don't be ridiculous.  Just look at the bones.  Look at the scars."  He gestured frantically towards the small figure, still poised dramatically atop his pile of skulls, but looking more and more nervous and anxious by the second.

"Anyone can collect skulls.  Poets and doctors collect skulls.  And those scars could come from anywhere.  And what about the tests?"

"Well we don't need to worry about the trial by combat.  Obviously.  So let's see, practical skills."  Loramir turned to face the still posed Muridian.  "Hey you, skull boy.  How did you find us?"

Jess relaxed and climbed down from his skull mound.  "Oh that was easy.  I just snuck up one of the guard towers and from there I was able to spot the clearing and the glint of your friend's axes as he polished them.  I figured it was as likely a spot as any so I came here."

Loramir turned back to "See, sneaking and spying, that's two things.  You know how many times a lookout would have saved our asses.  And you know how much I want a sneaking around partner."

Volfram sighed, "Well what about the new girl.  She got the drop on us."

"Well you and I both know that's hardly a noteworthy feat.  But sneaking past the town guard and climbing a watchtower in broad daylight, that takes skill."

"Fine, but you're paying for the funeral."

"Deal."

Jess, who had stayed quiet for most of this spoke up nervously, "You know I can hear you guys right.  I have no intentions of dying."

"Yeah, yeah no one does but it tends to happen regardless.  Well Loramir, if he's our batshit, I guess that makes Erin our brains.  What say you woman, think you can handle it?"

Erin grinned smugly. "Yeah, I think I can handle it."

Journal Day 1

I can't believe it!  I just made it to Innastorm and I'm already an adventurer with a real party and everything.  People back home said I'd never cut it but I really did it.  It was a crazy day.  I met a strange Muridian named Jess who claims to be a great hero.  Time will tell if any of his claims hold up.  I have my doubts, but I will say one thing, he sure knows how to entertain a room.  Three drinks in and he had the whole bar wrapped up in his stories of adventure, conquest, and derring do.  I might trust him as far as I can throw him, which is probably farther than most to be fair, but he can sure spin a yarn, I'll tell you that much.  Hell I even felt a little inspired.  Inspired enough to drink Loramir under the table.  That's the name of one of the guys I joined.  He's an ass and an elf, in that order.  But not like the bad kind of ass, just the 'roll your eyes' kind.  The other guy is named Volfram.  He's really big and scary looking, but he's not so bad. Doesn't talk a lot.  Or at least, he doesn't talk to me a lot.  Not yet at least.  I'll crack that egg.  But that's all for tonight. Tomorrow we're gonna take on our first quest.  I'm really excited.

[iwroteinapastlife]

Adrinath August Day 7

Due to the nature of my own relationship, when I think domestic, I think cuddling and video games, and I’ve been playing Breath of the Wild lately, so have his little bit of Adrinath gaming :P (Will make a lot more sense if you know Breath of the Wild.) Warning: smol tomato son has a colorful vocabulary.

I’ll get back to the story I’ve been releasing for Adrinath August tomorrow! <3

“I can’t believe I let you convince me to play this.” Adrien hid his face in his husband’s shoulder in a sorry attempt to stifle his laughter. Up on the screen, Link could be seen wildly batting around a Korok leaf, trying in vain to make the boat move in the direction Nathanaël wanted it to. Off in the distance the unmistakable orange glow of an undefeated shrine waited, taunting him. “I’m serious! I’m terrible at video games! Why would you do this to me!?”

“You can quit any time you’d like, love,” he responded, gently squeezing the artist’s waist. The two were lounging on the couch in their living room facing the television. Adrien sat with his back propped up against the arm of the couch and his legs spread out before him while Nathanaël sat comfortably nestled in the blonde’s arms, his back against his chest. Prime cuddles in Adrien’s opinion. The position allowed him to hold and curl around the form of his husband while said husband still had access to the full range of movement necessary to use the Wii gamepad.

“As if! You knew what you were doing when you introduced me to these graphics!! I mean, just look at that!” He stopped trying to make the boat move for a minute so he could pan the camera around to face the sunset overlooking the ocean. “That’s damn gorgeous! Look at the water! And the sky! And those clouds! Do you have any idea how hard it is to paint that!? It all looks so gorgeous! The fantastical landscapes and the color work especially and look at this guy!” Adrien chuckled as Nathanaël panned the camera around to face Link dressed in his sexy Sheikah Stealth set. “He’s so beautiful! No wonder everyone sounds like they’re having sex when they speak to him; the sight is orgasmic!” Adrien lost himself in a fit of giggles and his husband shrank down into his arms, grumbling. “Now I have to play this stupid game to the end and it’s all your fault.”

With that, the artist went back to work pushing air into the sail of the boat, trying to make it move closer to the small island shrine. Roughly ten minutes later, he finally got close enough that he could jump off and swim the rest of the way. “Why does that tree stump have a leaf on it?”

“That’s a great question,” Adrien replied. Then Nathanaël gasped and jumped excitedly.

“Oh oh oh I bet this is one of those cute little things!” He stepped Link up onto the mysterious stump and a sparkling cannon fired, shooting off to form a circle of lights by a rock a bit offshore. “It’s ticking. Why is it ticking? Oh no it’s a timed thing. I don’t do well under time pressure. Aaahhhhhhhh. What am I supposed to do? Shoot at it?” He pulled out his bow and shot an arrow directly through the circle of lights. Then two heads popped up out of the water, alerted to danger. “Oh no.” The lizalfos spotted him and were suddenly rushing toward him. “Oh no oh no oh no, fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.” He pulled out his boko spear and got ready. “Oh fuck, these things wrecked me last time.”

“I would get out a stronger weapon if I were you.”

“But spears let me hit them from a distance,” he said as the lizard creatures reached him, inching up out of the water.

“But they have—,”

“THEY HAVE GOOD SWORDS. FUCK.” Adrien cringed as Link was brought down to only a quarter heart in one hit. “Gaaaahhhhhh.” Nathanaël scrambled for the menu button, hastily feeding Link some steamed fruit. “Okay,” he said as he equipped the soldier’s claymore. “Okay, let’s do this. Aaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.” The redhead emitted his cute battle cry as he rushed back toward the lizalfos and smacked them with the heavy weapon. He received another scratch, bumping him down to two and a half hearts, but ultimately managed to defeat them. “Hell yeah! Oh I am so taking these swords.” Adrien giggled and pressed a congratulatory kiss to his cheek. After collecting all the weapons and monster parts, he went and stood on the tree stump again, watching as those timed circles appeared. “Maybe it wants me to swim there?”

“Maybe,” Adrien replied playfully. Without another word, Nathanaël rushed Link into the water, swimming straight for the rocks. Upon arriving, victorious trumpets sounded and there was a pop of sparkles as a tiny Korok appeared.

“Yahaha! You found me!” Nathanaël mimicked. Adrien laughed as he bounced excitedly. “You’re so cute. Thank you.” Then he dove back into the water and made his way back to the small island. “Alright. Shrine time. Let’s go.”

Adrien squeezed his lips together in anticipation. He knew exactly which shrine this was, and oh boy Nathanaël was not going to like it.

“Wait the message is different. Why does it say combat trial? Is it going to be like that one that taught me proper defense?” Adrien’s head shrank down between his shoulders and he pulled the redhead even closer. “Adrien? Why are you being so quiet?” Then the name of the trial appeared. “Major Test of Strength?”

[tfwiki]

https://hascon.hasbro.com/assets/pdf/Brand_Experience.pdf

HASCON Brand Experiences

HASCON has so many fun events for fans and families – you could spend the whole day immersed with your favorite brands, or sample highlights of everything!  For every one of Hasbro’s major brands and partner brands, we have created an unforgettable and immersive lineup of activities and experiences.  Keep scrolling to find the highlights of your and your family’s favorite brands below.

Best of all, your ticket gives you access to all of this and more (except for the add-on or VIP experiences, which require an additional ticket purchase as noted).

TRANSFORMERS

Immerse yourself in the world of Transformers where things are “More than Meets the Eye”!  We take you behind-the-scenes through the latest entertainment from movies to animation to comics, and have fun with the latest toys, hearing from the designers themselves how they bring this amazing brand to life!

Ready to roll out?  Highlights and hands-on experiences include:

Get up close to an epic collection of Transformers movie props

Meet and get your picture with Optimus Prime and Bumblebee costume characters

Photo Ops featuring statues of Optimus Prime, Bumblebee, Sqweeks, and more

Photo Ops with Camaro Bumblebee and the IMSA/NASCAR TRANSFORMERS: The Last Knight racing car

Hands-on play with the latest Transformers toys, plus previews of 2018 action figures and toys

Historical products from the Hasbro Vault

Designer Archives featuring prototypes and imagery of never-before released toys

Plus, enjoy Transformers panels and VIP/add-on experiences, including:

TRANSFORMERS: THE LAST KNIGHT in the Making - the making of Transformers: The Last Knight with producer Lorenzo di Bonaventura and special guests

More than Meets the Eye – get a glimpse behind the scenes of the Transformers toy line

PETER AND FRANK SOUND OFF: The Voices of Optimus Prime & Megatron!

IDW - Transformers Comics: How Artists and Writers Bring Stories to Life

THE PRIME WARS TRILOGY: See the story come to life! 

TRANSFORMERS Hall of Fame Dinner (add-on or VIP ticket purchase required) 

TRANSFORMERS: The Last Night Movie Event (add-on or VIP ticket purchase required)

MY LITTLE PONY

Welcome, everypony!  Discover the magic of friendship with a behind-the-scenes look at the latest pony adventures in entertainment (can you say NEW MOVIE? Oh yeah!), character meet-and-greets, a ponification experience and much more!

Highlights include:

Meet and mingle with the Mane 6 and Spike costumed characters

Photo-ops with life-size movie ponies and scenes from My Little Pony: The Movie

Get ponified like your favorite character at the Ponification Station

Explore Equestria and take snaps, selfies, and pony pics

Play the most pony-riffic My Little Pony apps and games

Get a sneak peek of the latest MLP toys, along with rare treasures from

the Hasbro Vault

Visit Pinkie Pie’s Sugarcube Corner, an exclusive MLP-themed cafe

Plus, enjoy these My Little Pony panels and VIP/add-on experiences, including:

The Making of My Little Pony: The Movie featuring Meghan McCarthy

The Voices of My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic

First Look at My Little Pony Season 8

My Little Pony Designer Q&A

My Little Pony Mane Event: Hall of Our FANmily Dinner (add-on or VIP ticket purchase required)

My Little Pony: The Movie Sneak Peek (add-on or VIP ticket purchase required)

NERF

Nerf Nation unite!  Get ready for an awesome hands-on intense, most action-packed, and most definitely “Nerf-tastic” weekend ever created.  This is how we play!  

Look for these hands-on activities, and more:

Nerf Arena: The ultimate Nerf action in the inflatable Nerf arena

Demo the latest in Nerf Modulus Build-a-Blaster and Nerf Nitro along with lots of Nerf blasters in the test area

Demo Dude Perfect Smash football and Flying Disc Golf

Photo-Ops with life-size Nerf Modulus package and Nerf Nitro car

Go behind the blaster as we peak inside to see how they work

Visit the Nerf Rival test area (ages 14 and over)

Plus, these awesome panels and add-on experiences:

Selfies with Dude Perfect

Dude Perfect: Best Friends, a Panda, and Nerf: Join the dudes from Dude Perfect as they talk about their awesome collaboration with Nerf and show off the brand-new Nerf Dude Perfect Signature Bow

Building Nerf – How the World’s Best Blasters Come to Life

Add-on purchase required: Hang with Dude Perfect - Meet the dudes of Dude Perfect, enjoy some of the Dudes’ favorite snacks, snap a selfie, and receive an autographed Nerf Dude Perfect Football

MAGIC: THE GATHERING

Immerse yourself in a MAGIC-filled weekend with tournaments galore, demos for those new to the game, and an array of life-size experiences:

Hands-on demos to with Wizards of the Coast staff to teach you the basics of Magic and highlight some of new cards and features of the latest sets

Roaming costumed MAGIC: THE GATHERING characters for memorable photo ops

Photo ops with mind-blowing MAGIC: THE GATHERING 3-D sculpts

Plus, these in-depth panels:

Magic: The Gathering - 25th Anniversary Show: Join us as we celebrate Magic’s past and present and reveal exciting announcements for our future!

Blogatog Live! Join Magic: The Gathering’s Head Designer, Mark Rosewater, for a full hour of Q&A on all things Magic!

Magic: The Gathering Improv Show: Looking for some fun and maybe a few laughs? Watch as Wizards of the Coast’s very own improv artists and their buddies embarrass themselves for the enjoyment of our fans!

Live Art with Aleksi Briclot: Join Aleksi, the illustrator of Magic: The Gathering’s original five Lorwyn Planeswalkers, as he does a live painting of Chandra Nalaar

Magic: The Gathering - Building the World’s Best in Fantasy Gaming: Join creative directors from Dungeons & Dragons and Magic: The Gathering as they pull back the curtain on building some of the most iconic worlds in fantasy gaming

DUNGEONS & DRAGONS

Grab your swords and spellbooks and get ready for an epic adventure! Dungeons & Dragons at HASCON offers everything you need to join the party and create stories you’ll be sharing for a lifetime.

Experiences include:

Join Dungeon Master extraordinaire Matthew Mercer as he leads a party of celebrity players through a fun-filled live D&D game on the HASCON main stage

Play through Tomb of Annihilation, our newest D&D adventure, at the D&D tabletop play area

Collect all the D&D loot, including the HASCON exclusive My Little Pony-themed D&D Dice Tin

Meet our goblins in the Jungles of Chult at the D&D experience on the HASCON main floor

GI JOE

Yo Joe! Celebrate the 35th Anniversary of the launch of the Real American Hero story with a fantastic selection of brand experiences that pays tribute to this epic fantasy and toy line!

Soak in a collection of G.I. Joe movie props including Firefly’s motorcycle, costumes, and more

Photo-Ops with life-size versions of the 1982 Snake Eyes blister card and 1964 G.I. Joe Action Soldier box!

Treasures from the Hasbro Vault features rare products and artifacts from the 1982-1994 product line

Enjoy selections from our amazing collection of original G.I. Joe packaging

Plus, enjoy these G.I. Joe panels and VIP/add-on experiences, including:

Creating the World of G.I. Joe Characters - hear the stories straight from G.I. Joe Legends who created the characters that launched and evolved the story and toys

Creating the World of G.I. Joe Vehicles & Playsets – hear the stories straight from G.I. Joe Legends who created this epic lineup from 1982-1994

G.I. Joe Legends Dinner:  Join co-emcees and G.I. Joe authors Derryl DePriest and Dan Klingensmith for an intimate and entertaining evening event featuring one of the greatest gatherings of G.I. Joe Legends ever assembled! (add-on or VIP ticket purchase required)

STAR WARS

May the Force be with you! Come celebrate 40 years of Star War memories, and make some new ones with activities including:

Photo ops with the Emperor’s Throne, Yoda, and Stormtrooper statues

Strike your best action figure pose and get your picture taken inside one of three different life-size action figure backer cards!

Feast your eyes on a specially-curated collection celebrating 40 years of iconic Star Wars product

Highlights of the current product line with a preview of the epic Last Jedi 2018 line-up

Take part in the world’s largest lightsaber assembly, sponsored by Blade Builders

Hang out in the screening area & lounge to watch exciting Star Wars content

From a galaxy far, far away, we have some fan-tastic panels, including:

Star Wars: 40 Years of Play:  Star Wars team members, veterans and newcomers alike will discuss their favorite products, hidden history and even the line’s origins at Kenner in 1977

Behind the Black Series: Design Director Steve Evans and the talented team behind The Black Series gives a behind-the-scenes look at development of the line, never-before-seen details and other great surprises

Star Wars - Forces of Destiny: Join the team as they take you behind the scenes and dive into the creative process of developing the exciting new Star Wars Force of Destiny line

A Chat with Chewbacca Mom, Candace Payne, along with a chance to get her autograph

MARVEL

Love the ever-growing Marvel Universe of iconic characters?  Then “Be Marvel, Be More” with these amazing experiences:

Superheroic photo ops featuring a life-sized Thor Legends figure packaging and an enormous 12 foot tall Hulkbuster statue

See how toys are made and get a sneak peek into product development, presented by the Hasbro Model Shop

Meet the designers and marketers behind the Marvel product lines

Experience the current line of exciting figures and role play, with sneak peeks into what’s coming in 2018

Plus, take in power-packed sized panels, including:

Panel with Marvel legend Stan Lee as he shares tales to astonish about the creation of pop culture icons including Spider-Man, The Incredible Hulk, Iron Man, Thor, the X-Men and many more – EXCELSIOR!

Spotlight on James Gunn: Moderated discussion with James Gunn, writer and director of the Guardians of the Galaxy film franchise

Marvel Legends: The Hasbro and Marvel experts will discuss Hasbro’s ever popular Legends product line, with a sneak peek of upcoming, never before seen Marvel action figures

How Marvel Toys are Made: Come learn how Hasbro brings Marvel entertainment to life in toys with a peek behind the curtain of the creative process

PLAY-DOH

Open a can of creativity with an array of experiences to inspire your inner maker:

Hands-on play with Play-Doh Touch - build and scan your own creation

Bring your ideas to life in the Play-Doh Test Kitchen

Meet a Doh-Doh costume character and photo op

Make memories with Giant Play-Doh can photo op

Doh-Doh life-size statue photo op

Create a masterpiece and add your design to the DohVinci art wall

Tickets for HasCon are available now: http://hascon.hasbro.com/tickets

[mredwinsmith]

HASCON Reveals Brand Experiences

HASCON has so many fun events for fans and families – you could spend the whole day immersed with your favorite brands, or sample highlights of everything! For every one of Hasbro’s major brands and partner brands, we have created an unforgettable and immersive lineup of activities and experiences.  Keep scrolling to find the highlights of your and your family’s favorite brands below. Best of all, your ticket gives you access to all of this and more (except for the add-on or VIP experiences, which require an additional ticket purchase as noted).

TRANSFORMERS Immerse yourself in the world of Transformers where things are “More than Meets the Eye”! We take you behind-the-scenes through the latest entertainment from movies to animation to comics, and have fun with the latest toys, hearing from the designers themselves how they bring this amazing brand to life! Ready to roll out? Highlights and hands-on experiences include:

Get up close to an epic collection of Transformers movie props

Meet and get your picture with Optimus Prime and Bumblebee costume characters

Photo Ops featuring statues of Optimus Prime, Bumblebee, Sqweeks, and more

Photo Ops with Camaro Bumblebee and the IMSA/NASCAR TRANSFORMERS: The Last Knight racing car

Hands-on play with the latest Transformers toys, plus previews of 2018 action figures and toys

Historical products from the Hasbro Vault

Designer Archives featuring prototypes and imagery of never-before released toys

Plus, enjoy Transformers panels and VIP/add-on experiences, including:

TRANSFORMERS: THE LAST KNIGHT in the Making – the making of Transformers: The Last Knight with producer Lorenzo di Bonaventura and special guests

• More than Meets the Eye – get a glimpse behind the scenes of the Transformers toy line

• PETER AND FRANK SOUND OFF: The Voices of Optimus Prime & Megatron!

• IDW – Transformers Comics: How Artists and Writers Bring Stories to Life

• THE PRIME WARS TRILOGY: See the story come to life!

TRANSFORMERS Hall of Fame Dinner (add-on or VIP ticket purchase required)

TRANSFORMERS: The Last Night Movie Event (add-on or VIP ticket purchase required)

MY LITTLE PONY Welcome, everypony!  Discover the magic of friendship with a behind-the-scenes look at the latest pony adventures in entertainment (can you say NEW MOVIE? Oh yeah!), character meet-and-greets, a ponification experience and much more! Highlights include:

Meet and mingle with the Mane 6 and Spike costumed characters

Photo-ops with life-size movie ponies and scenes from My Little Pony: The Movie

Get ponified like your favorite character at the Ponification Station

Explore Equestria and take snaps, selfies, and pony pics

Play the most pony-riffic My Little Pony apps and games

Get a sneak peek of the latest MLP toys, along with rare treasures from the Hasbro Vault

Visit Pinkie Pie’s Sugarcube Corner, an exclusive MLP-themed cafe

Plus, enjoy these My Little Pony panels and VIP/add-on experiences, including:

The Making of My Little Pony: The Movie featuring Meghan McCarthy

The Voices of My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic

First Look at My Little Pony Season 8

My Little Pony Designer Q&A

My Little Pony Mane Event: Hall of Our FANmily Dinner (add-on or VIP ticket purchase required)

My Little Pony: The Movie Sneak Peek (add-on or VIP ticket purchase required)

NERF Nerf Nation unite! Get ready for an awesome hands-on intense, most action-packed, and most definitely “Nerf-tastic” weekend ever created. This is how we play! Look for these hands-on activities, and more:

Nerf Arena: The ultimate Nerf action in the inflatable Nerf arena

Demo the latest in Nerf Modulus Build-a-Blaster and Nerf Nitro along with lots of Nerf blasters in the test area

Demo Dude Perfect Smash football and Flying Disc Golf

Photo-Ops with life-size Nerf Modulus package and Nerf Nitro car

Go behind the blaster as we peak inside to see how they work

Visit the Nerf Rival test area (ages 14 and over)

Plus, these awesome panels and add-on experiences:

Selfies with Dude Perfect

Dude Perfect: Best Friends, a Panda, and Nerf: Join the dudes from Dude Perfect as they talk about their awesome collaboration with Nerf and show off the brand-new Nerf Dude Perfect Signature Bow

 Building Nerf – How the World’s Best Blasters Come to Life

Add-on purchase required: Hang with Dude Perfect – Meet the dudes of Dude Perfect, enjoy some of the Dudes’ favorite snacks, snap a selfie, and receive an autographed Nerf Dude Perfect Football

MAGIC: THE GATHERING Immerse yourself in a MAGIC-filled weekend with tournaments galore, demos for those new to the game, and an array of life-size experiences:

Hands-on demos to with Wizards of the Coast staff to teach you the basics of Magic and highlight some of new cards and features of the latest sets

Roaming costumed MAGIC: THE GATHERING characters for memorable photo ops

Photo ops with mind-blowing MAGIC: THE GATHERING 3-D sculpts

Plus, these in-depth panels:

Magic: The Gathering – 25th Anniversary Show: Join us as we celebrate Magic’s past and present and reveal exciting announcements for our future!

Blogatog Live! Join Magic: The Gathering’s Head Designer, Mark Rosewater, for a full hour of Q&A on all things Magic!

Magic: The Gathering Improv Show: Looking for some fun and maybe a few laughs? Watch as Wizards of the Coast’s very own improv artists and their buddies embarrass themselves for the enjoyment of our fans!

Live Art with Aleksi Briclot: Join Aleksi, the illustrator of Magic: The Gathering’s original five Lorwyn Planeswalkers, as he does a live painting of Chandra Nalaar

Magic: The Gathering – Building the World’s Best in Fantasy Gaming: Join creative directors from Dungeons & Dragons and Magic: The Gathering as they pull back the curtain on building some of the most iconic worlds in fantasy gaming

DUNGEONS & DRAGONS Grab your swords and spellbooks and get ready for an epic adventure! Dungeons & Dragons at HASCON offers everything you need to join the party and create stories you’ll be sharing for a lifetime. Experiences include:

Join Dungeon Master extraordinaire Matthew Mercer as he leads a party of celebrity players through a fun-filled live D&D game on the HASCON main stage

Play through Tomb of Annihilation, our newest D&D adventure, at the D&D tabletop play area

Collect all the D&D loot, including the HASCON exclusive My Little Pony-themed D&D Dice Tin

Meet our goblins in the Jungles of Chult at the D&D experience on the HASCON main floor

GI JOE Yo Joe! Celebrate the 35th Anniversary of the launch of the Real American Hero story with a fantastic selection of brand experiences that pays tribute to this epic fantasy and toy line!

Soak in a collection of G.I. Joe movie props including Firefly’s motorcycle, costumes, and more

Photo-Ops with life-size versions of the 1982 Snake Eyes blister card and 1964 G.I. Joe Action Soldier box!

Treasures from the Hasbro Vault features rare products and artifacts from the 1982-1994 product line

Enjoy selections from our amazing collection of original G.I. Joe packaging

Plus, enjoy these G.I. Joe panels and VIP/add-on experiences, including:

Creating the World of G.I. Joe Characters – hear the stories straight from G.I. Joe Legends who created the characters that launched and evolved the story and toys

Creating the World of G.I. Joe Vehicles & Playsets – hear the stories straight from G.I. Joe Legends who created this epic lineup from 1982-1994

G.I. Joe Legends Dinner: Join co-emcees and G.I. Joe authors Derryl DePriest and Dan Klingensmith for an intimate and entertaining evening event featuring one of the greatest gatherings of G.I. Joe Legends ever assembled! (add-on or VIP ticket purchase required)

STAR WARS May the Force be with you! Come celebrate 40 years of Star War memories, and make some new ones with activities including:

Photo ops with the Emperor’s Throne, Yoda, and Stormtrooper statues

Strike your best action figure pose and get your picture taken inside one of three different life-size action figure backer cards!

Feast your eyes on a specially-curated collection celebrating 40 years of iconic Star Wars product

Highlights of the current product line with a preview of the epic Last Jedi 2018 line-up 

Take part in the world’s largest lightsaber assembly, sponsored by Blade Builders

Hang out in the screening area & lounge to watch exciting Star Wars content

From a galaxy far, far away, we have some fan-tastic panels, including:

Star Wars: 40 Years of Play: Star Wars team members, veterans and newcomers alike will discuss their favorite products, hidden history and even the line’s origins at Kenner in 1977

Behind the Black Series: Design Director Steve Evans and the talented team behind The Black Series gives a behind-the-scenes look at development of the line, never-before-seen details and other great surprises

Star Wars – Forces of Destiny: Join the team as they take you behind the scenes and dive into the creative process of developing the exciting new Star Wars Force of Destiny line

A Chat with Chewbacca Mom, Candace Payne, along with a chance to get her autograph

MARVEL Love the ever-growing Marvel Universe of iconic characters?  Then “Be Marvel, Be More” with these amazing experiences:

Superheroic photo ops featuring a life-sized Thor Legends figure packaging and an enormous 12 foot tall Hulkbuster statue

See how toys are made and get a sneak peek into product development, presented by the Hasbro Model Shop

Meet the designers and marketers behind the Marvel product lines

Experience the current line of exciting figures and role play, with sneak peeks into what’s coming in 2018

Plus, take in power-packed sized panels, including:

Panel with Marvel legend Stan Lee as he shares tales to astonish about the creation of pop culture icons including Spider-Man, The Incredible Hulk, Iron Man, Thor, the X-Men and many more – EXCELSIOR!

Spotlight on James Gunn: Moderated discussion with James Gunn, writer and director of the Guardians of the Galaxy film franchise

Marvel Legends: The Hasbro and Marvel experts will discuss Hasbro’s ever popular Legends product line, with a sneak peek of upcoming, never before seen Marvel action figures

How Marvel Toys are Made: Come learn how Hasbro brings Marvel entertainment to life in toys with a peek behind the curtain of the creative process

PLAY-DOH

Open a can of creativity with an array of experiences to inspire your inner maker:

Hands-on play with Play-Doh Touch – build and scan your own creation

Bring your ideas to life in the Play-Doh Test Kitchen

Meet a Doh-Doh costume character and photo op

Make memories with Giant Play-Doh can photo op

Doh-Doh life-size statue photo op

Create a masterpiece and add your design to the DohVinci art wall

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