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writersrealmbts · 4 years

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Clearwater Springs: Part 1

Description: ot7 x reader, reader’s choice, fairy/supernatural/soulmate au. The choices you make influence the story! In this world, war-torn and ragged, you’ve been offered a home and a job working as a librarian. Will you meet your soulmates? Will you ever find the shelves behind the piles of books? Who knows.

Warnings: None

Posted: 08/29/2020

Tags: ot7 x reader, supernatural bts,

5,111 words

A/N: Once I was actually able to write, this came out really easily. I hope you guys enjoy it and don’t forget to do the pre-chapter 2 survey (link at the end of post)!

You stared up at the house in a bit of a daze, still untethered. Still vulnerable.

“Isn’t it magnificent?! A real masterpiece, this house.”

You glanced at your over-enthusiastic caseworker, then looked back up at the grand Victorian house, wondering if the inside matched the outside, and why such a grand house was way out in the middle of nowhere. Why its owner would offer to take in strays, misfits, and others in need of a new home after the recent war when they were obviously still doing well despite the near economic collapse.

Your caseworker was practically bouncing up to the house, making you dizzy as he jostled the itty-bitty fountain you were temporarily tied to.

But you’d been dealing with that for a month, and you were getting pretty good at walking a straight line while the world appeared to spin around you.

“Now, if you and he agree at the end of the day, you’ll be tethered to a natural spring and the creek it runs into nearby, and you’ll stay in one of the spare rooms and you’ll help him organize and keep his library, which he runs as a traditional library—when organized—for some of the locals.”

You didn’t bother responding since he didn’t seem to be looking for a response, instead heavily trodding up to the front door as he rang the doorbell.

“Also, to simulate what life will be like, I’ll be leaving you for the day once I set your fountain down in a safe spot.”

“You said,” You murmured, closing your eyes for a moment, feeling yourself swaying from side to side. As a xana, you were originally tethered to a fountain many miles away, but as the war reached that town, your fountain had been damaged and your original workplace—a large library where you specialized in the children’s section, reading to them and singing your songs—utterly demolished. Because the fountain wasn’t completely destroyed, you survived. An experimental spell and three weeks later and there you were, standing on the steps of the home of a human where you would be exchanging work for a place to sleep and food to eat. You didn’t even need that much food, about a meal a day was enough for you when your tethered place was healthy and strong and not being jerked around like a dog was playing tug-of-war with it.

The front door opened, revealing a man with pink hair. “Hello, you must be Y/n. We’ve been expecting you. Welcome to Clearwater Springs.”

“We?” You asked, glancing at your worker.

The human did as well. “You told her about the house’s haltija, right?”

You relaxed. “Oh. Just a haltija?”

“Well, he’s also half-brownie, but thankfully that only manifests in the occasional clumsy or destructive moment. He’s quite friendly, though, and very fond of the forest,” The human spoke quickly, as though afraid you would pass negative judgement on the haltija—creatures who were known for guarding and protecting—for having brownie blood—admittedly, creatures who could become troublesome when disrespected, but otherwise also keepers of the home and chore-doers for the kind.

“I’m sure he’s very kind and gentle,” You replied.

“Right. And you’re a xana?”

You nodded.

“And...I’m sorry, I’m not sure what exactly that is, other than the fact that you’re generally tied to some form of pure water, like fountains, springs, rivers, waterfalls….”

You nodded. “I’m originally from a fountain. Um...I’m not sure how to explain what I am.”

Your caseworker took that hint. “Oh! Right, well, they seem to always know virtuous hearts through some test or other—though no one ever seems to be able to pin down the test—um, they have enchanted songs that bring feelings of peace and love to the pure and could almost kill those who are impure. Um, let’s see, she has combs made of moonbeams and sunlight, respectively. Can’t completely care for babies, but once they can feed themselves she’s fine.”

You frowned, fighting yourself not to glare at him. Your species couldn’t produce milk, so in the old days—before there was formula—it was a sort of changeling situation. A Xanino would replace a human child. Terrible, but true. Nowadays, most xaninos were adopted by naiads or other nature or house spirits—because now it was scandalous to try and raise your own child as a xana.

“Oh, she has treasure, but who knows where she keeps that—”

“It’s enchanted, you’re not supposed to know where I keep it,” You muttered, even though he wasn’t paying any attention to you.

“And she can give you a drink that we call ‘Love water’. Couldn’t tell you why, and I’ve never seen her hand it out. Think that’s it. Here’s her fountain, I’ll be back at sundown.”

The human almost dropped the fountain that was shoved into his hands, and if he wasn’t so surprised you thought he might have yelled at your caseworker.

But the car peeled down the driveway again, kicking up dirt.

You stared after him, a little disconcerted. “Mages.”

“Um, well, we’ve been preparing for your arrival. We’ve gotten the basement bathroom renovated so that you can shower or bathe in the waters of your spring when you need, and your bedroom is ready for you. We thought you’d prefer to decorate it with your things...but looking back now I probably should have known you wouldn’t have many things. It’s a hard time for everyone,” The human rambled, rubbing his neck. “Oh, I’m Seokjin, by the way.”

“Oh, yes, I suppose your name would be important. I’d hate to be rude and just refer to you as ‘The Human” when you’re my boss.”

Seokjin looked startled at the title. “I’d rather think of it as a partnership. I’ve been told I shouldn’t live alone, and you needed a new home. Also, my library is out of control and I have no idea where to start—I mean, other than the new library building that we just finished. Don’t worry, it’s very close to your water source as well, but your spring is still highly protected.”

You just nodded, wondering why he didn’t stare like most humans did. You were beautiful—that was one of the key points of defining a xana: being extraordinarily beautiful. Xana’s were considered more beautiful than any other species—and only a few other species even tried to contend with it since yours was more rare, and therefore more worth the attention.

“Um, let’s get inside so I can set this down. We’ll make sure Namjoon steers completely clear of it.” Seokjin stepped back and leaned his head in a gesture that suggested welcoming you inside and to follow him.

He led the way through the entry, and then to the living room through the arch immediately to the right. He took the fountain and placed it on a table that was against the wall—out of the way of general traffic. “There. Now, Namjoon should be around somewhere. Probably the garden, he likes it out there. But for now let me show you the house, including where you’ll be staying and then we’ll go and talk about the library. There’s a lot of work that I want to do, Namjoon is heavily involved in that too. He likes books, but between us...we don’t really have the skills to put what we want into action—which is why we’re really excited that you’re here.” He started the tour.

“I’ll do my best to h-hell, what is this hell?” You said, looking at the mess. It looked somewhat like a library, except you couldn’t even see the shelves. It was just piles upon piles of books, newspapers, journals, magazines, and comic books with a thin path between it all.

Seokjin winced. “It is...mildly organized. We’ve been receiving donations. Don’t worry, there will be a bigger place, we mostly just need to pack all of this up and move it to the new facility in an...organized fashion.”

You pointed at the mix of magazines and books. “This is organized.”

“I did say somewhat, didn’t I? We had a large influx of books very suddenly. Things got very messy in the chaos of it all. I think they were sending us books from destroyed libraries.” He shrugged a bit. “Don’t worry. We’ll be helping at every turn and I’m bringing in extra workers from town as needed.”

You supposed that was supposed to be comforting, but you were staring at a nightmare of a situation. One toppling tower, and there was no navigating through.

“Hyung? Is that you?” The pile asked.

Then it was all falling over and someone was diving out while Seokjin pulled you against the wall and out of the way.

Seokjin sighed. “Namjoon. Our guest is here.”

The man with blue hair looked up, then back at his legs (which were trapped under many books), then back at you. He stared at you with big eyes, looking a little flustered.

You took a deep breath. “Well, that is exactly what we didn’t want to happen.”

“Yeah. Namjoon, didn’t we talk about not going in there?” Seokjin bent down and grabbed Namjoon under the arms and pulled him out from the pile, helping him to his feet.

“I just wanted the next book in my series.” Namjoon rubbed the back of his neck. “I was doing okay until then.”

Seokjin shook his head a bit. “Namjoonie, this is y/n. She’s the one that’s going to stay with us and help with the library?”

Namjoon was definitely already staring at you, and he looked a little flustered and red. “Hi.”

“She’s a xana. Y/n, this is Namjoon, the haltija of the house.”

“Uh, nice to meet you,” Namjoon said hurriedly.

“Nice to meet you, too,” You replied, trying for a smile, but you were pretty sure you just gave him a woozy look.

“Maybe you should lie down before we continue the house tour? He was jostling your fountain around quite a bit.” Seokjin frowned toward the front door.

Namjoon nodded. “He’s right. You need rest. I can tell.”

You shrugged. “Nah, the world is supposed to be constantly spinning.”

“Should I carry her? Should I carry you?” Seokjin asked, sounding and looking a little panicked.

You shrugged. “I’m fine. This has been my life for the past three months.”

Namjoon’s eyes widened.

Seokjin looked like he was going to have a meltdown.

“Unless you’re going to have a panic attack, in which case you may carry me if it will help you,” You said quickly, concerned with how quickly he was freaking out.

Namjoon glanced at the human, then nodded. “I think that might be the only way to stall him out. He’s not wearing his glasses.”

You shrugged again, uncertain what not having glasses had to do with anything, and waited while Namjoon muttered something to Seokjin.

A couple moments later, Seokjin came over, muttering something about being sorry, then he carefully scooped you up. “Sorry, your dress is a little slippery. Silk?”

You nodded. “Yeah. My clothes just sort of...appear as I need them? Usually made of silk, but sometimes there’s a velvet cloak when it’s colder. Some linen when it’s warmer. Always dresses.”

“Cool,” Namjoon said, following the two of you up the stairs.

“I suppose so,” You replied, doing your best not to look at Seokjin. He was handsome for a human. And you’d never seen a non-fairy pull off pink hair before today. He had a sort of gentleness to his face, a softness that could easily become cold and judgemental. If that even made sense.

But honestly, there were very few things that made sense since the war had begun some ten years ago.

“Why is your hair blue?” You asked the haltija, looking over Seokjin’s shoulder as you realized you had been looking at him despite specifically thinking you shouldn’t and only noticing because his ears had started turning a violent shade of red.

“Oh...uh...we’re not really sure. It just sort of...changes now and then. A few days ago I woke up and it was this color. Before that it had been brown.”

“Did you two paint any part of the house?”

“Well, not in the same time frame as my hair color changing. And definitely not this color. Jin-hyung has this crazy theory that it’s connected to my soulmate or something.”

“You have a soulmate?” You asked, surprised.

He nodded, rubbing his left shoulder-pectoral area, which meant either his mark was located there or he had some muscle pain from his dive for freedom in the great August book-slide. “Yeah. Or...well, I have multiple sections in my mark...so, I guess I’m part of a soul-group. Probably a platonic one given my species.”

“You never know what’s waiting around the riverbend,” You replied, thinking back to Grandma Loire’s wise words when you had been fretting about the war. Granted, at that time, her words had been very wrong, but you wouldn’t begrudge the dead for their mistakes.

But also thinking about your own soulmark and the multiple parts in it. You were certain it was just a coincidence, but it was still an interesting fact that you filed away.

“You sound like a naiad,” Namjoon snorted.

“A naiad told me that. She was very wrong at the time. Told me not to worry about the battle in Manhattan.”

“Ooh,” He winced. “Very wrong.”

Seokjin held onto you a little tighter. “Where did you live before this?”

“Rocamadour. Our library was new when I started working there. Before there were a couple but they were in some towns over.”

“Where is that?” Namjoon asked.

“It’s in the Alps,” Seokjin answered, then paused at the top of the stairs. “Get the door?”

The door swung open before Seokjin had finished asking.

You craned your head to look at Namjoon, suddenly concerned with your privacy.

He held up his hands. “I can open doors and windows, I can’t see through walls. I can also hear things, if you want me to. If you want me to hear, just knock or tap your foot three times and I’ll listen.”

You nodded slightly and relaxed again.

Seokjin carried you into the room, which was painted such a calm color. The bed was a queen-size, and it was soft when he lay you in the middle of it. The top blanket was velvet-y and so, so soft.

Namjoon gave you a smile when you let out a sound of appreciation.

Seokjin smiled at you. “Well, I’m going to find out whether he’s coming back to check in on you tonight or not while you rest, then we’ll go over other things and go to the spring. Feel free to go anywhere in the house, as long as it isn’t one of our bedrooms. Mine is on the first floor, Namjoon’s is across the hall. Food in the kitchen is up for grabs unless it’s in the meal-plan that I have on the fridge. Oh, that door there leads to your bathroom, the one next to it leads to your closet, and this third door leads to your sitting room or office or whatever you want to use it for. We’ll let you nap now.”

Namjoon dipped his head as Seokjin pushed and pulled him out of your bedroom door.

You stared at the closed door for a moment, then lay back. You were still so accustomed to sleeping on your fountain or in your fountain that this felt weird. But it felt weird in a heavenly sort of way. You slid up and then managed to slide under the covers, a little excited about the silk sheets. It was so nice.

So heavenly that you woke up feeling so refreshed that it had to be illegal. Sure, you still felt a little off (because the fountain you were temporarily tethered too wasn’t the greatest), but you felt much better than before.

You slid out of the sheets, enjoying the feel of the hardwood on your feet as you cautiously checked out your bathroom, closet, and sitting room (which only had an armchair and a small sofa). Once you had tested the seats (because you had to know which would be your favorite, it was the armchair), you ventured out into the hallway.

Namjoon’s door was open, but you didn’t hear anything in there, so you decided not to bother him.

Instead, you headed back the way you had been carried, looking around for more detail.

The structure of the house, the woodwork, the moulding, the baseboards and the stairway all had a distinctly Victorian style, and all were likely original to the house. But the design was more subtle, softer, and more contemporary in the coloring and the furniture. It was a nice sort of mix that gave the house an air of elegance that was refreshing. You’d been in some victorian-style homes before and they had been so overwhelmingly Victorian that it was like you were trapped in England in that time period and about to choke on a piece of jellied eel.

You avoided the pile of books spilling out of the library (but did notice that they’d been somewhat cleaned up), and checked out the living room again with the ulterior motive of checking on your current fountain.

The style was even more contemporary there, yet still paid a nice homage to the house. A monochrome color scheme, with pops of color in some of the throw pillows and delicate accents in the artwork.

Your fountain looked cleaner than ever and had a healthy amount of water in it for once, which you honestly felt boded well for you. There even seemed to be a new coating of pebbles at the bottom of the small basin.

You flinched as a cat hopped up onto the table next to the fountain and took a drink from it. It was young, a long-haired calico, so soft and pretty looking.

You let it sniff your hand, humming softly before you carefully picked it up. You snuggled it, happy when it seemed to revel in your attention, even seeking it when you started looking over the books that were seperated from the library and on the shelf beside the fireplace. There weren’t many, but you recognized one or two of the titles, and the taste there seemed to vary widely. You figured they were probably books from both of the boys, and left them as they were to go try and find the kitchen for a glass of water.

The office was nearby, but didn’t look like it got used as an office very often, but definitely seemed to have a gaming station in one corner.

You found the billiard’s room next, noting that there was a ping-pong table folded up in a corner. It seemed pretty abandoned, clean, but not nearly as used.

Then a smell permeated the air, drawing you back toward soft noise and even softer humming, murmured conversation and the sizzling of something cooking.

You peeked into the large kitchen, smiling when you saw Namjoon reading in one corner, and Seokjin cooking at the stove. Namjoon seemed to be explaining the book to Seokjin, quietly passionate about it.

Seokjin was smiling and humming, possibly more focused on what he was cooking, but still seeming to hear what Namjoon was saying.

“Smells good,” You said quietly, slipping completely into the room. Trying not to disturb the aura.

Seokjin turned and grinned at you. “Hey! You look like you feel better.”

You nodded. “That bed is heavenly. And thank you for cleaning the fountain.”

He shrugged. “It looked like it had been neglected for a while. Namjoon found some pebbles for it as well because he read that once they’ve been exposed to the tether it can make a transition easier, theoretically.”

Namjoon looked embarrassed, rubbing his neck. “I figured it couldn’t hurt to try it out.”

“That was very thoughtful,” You told him, smiling at him as well.

He was bright red after that.

Seokjin chuckled. “I’ll have dinner ready soon. Then I thought we could head down to the new library building, and then maybe go into town. There isn’t much, but I do need to pick up some things.”

You took the seat that Namjoon offered. “That sounds like a plan. Who’s the kitty?”

“Oh, that’s Parsley. She followed us home one day and has been here ever since.” Namjoon pet the cat carefully. “She’s a good mouser, so we just sort of created a pact that as long as she keeps us pest free, we’ll keep her pest-free.”

“She’s a cutie,” You said, pressing your cheek against the soft fur and enjoying the soothing vibrations of her purr. It was just one of the many things that made you feel so comfortable here. That and both men seemed relatively impervious to your enchanting beauty, which was refreshing. It gave you hope that this would work out. That you wouldn’t always be free-floating.

“She is. Do you know anything about this bird that practically forced it’s way into our house?” Seokjin asked, pointing toward the ceiling.

You leaned to the left to look at the little black and white fluff-ball. “Was wondering when he would show up. He’s been following me for a while. Don’t know why, but he seems to have formed an attachment. Whether he feels like conversing is a completely different matter.”

“Does he have a name?”

“Not that he’ll tell me.”

Namjoon started laughing.

Seokjin gave you an exasperated look. “What do you call him?”

“Fluffball, marshmallow, cotton swab, cotton ball, cotton candy, fairy floss—he really doesn’t like that one—squishy, fluffy, Caspar, and Leo.” You shrugged. “Like I said, he won’t tell me his name. Just what his name isn’t.”

“So, none of those are his name?”

“Well, fairy floss isn’t. I’ve gotten to the point where I think he’s just waiting for someone else to settle on a name for him—preferably one he likes.”

“And until then, he’s just going to come and go as he pleases?”

You shrugged again, holding it for a while.

Namjoon was still laughing, his smile revealing some adorable dimples.

“So...is he a magical bird?”

You looked up at your feathered friend, and resisted the urge to shrug once more. “Maybe?”

Seokjin huffed. “What does he eat?”

“Haven’t the foggiest. He always leaves to eat. Sometimes I’d see him eating bird-seed, but mostly he just flies off and comes back well-fed. I think he eats insects.”

“Great. He can deal with the mosquitos.” Seokjin spared the bird a glance, then dished up the food. “The store might have some insects we can get for him, just in case. You never know. They always have weird things.”

“Really?” You looked forlornly after the kitty as it leaped off and disappeared through another doorway. “Is it a magic shop?”

“Well….”

“We told you that Jin-hyung is the only human in town, didn’t we?” Namjoon asked, eyes widened slightly. “Everyone who lives in the area is magical to some extent, except for hyung.”

You shook your head, a little stunned. “No. No you did not tell me that.”

But man was that an idea to wrap your head around.

Seokjin shrugged, having plated up the food. “This is a pretty popular place for refugees. Sort of remote and accepting of different species. A nice place to make a fresh start.”

“But...you’re the only human. Doesn’t that get...I don’t know...lonely?”

He blinked at you, then shook his head and shrugged. “No? I have Namjoonie, and now you’re here too. And yeah, I’m outnumbered, but they’ve never held my species against me. I mean, that’s probably because I did sort of pay for the whole town, which isn’t much. But more people come each day, and some people move on to other places once they’ve gotten back onto their feet. It’s like an adventure, meet some new characters, help them on their journey, then return home to sleep in a big, soft, bed with a full belly.”

And maybe the look of genuine happiness on his face was just a little too alluring.

Maybe you were just desperate to belong somewhere, because when he included you...it was like the world lit up.

And no, you were not tearing up.

His hand covered yours, warmth spreading from his touch to the mark that was hidden under the sleeve of your dress as he smiled warmly at you. “I really do hope that this place becomes your home. Everyone deserves to have a home.”

And then he was moving away, maybe not even aware that he was one of your soulmates since he was human.

“Come on, let’s eat.”

Namjoon quickly complied with Seokjin’s words, but you were slower to follow, trying to figure out how all of this had come about.

“I heard that a new van full of people arrived yesterday, so I want to see if I can meet any of them. See if we still have enough housing for everyone. That might mean a couple people staying with us in the house if there isn’t enough housing. Is that okay?”

You nodded, just following their actions, but not taking as much food as they did. Mostly because you didn’t need much food to survive, but it smelled good. So good, and Seokjin did cook it himself.

“Alright, then it’s a plan. Eat, see the new library, go to the store, meet people, come home.” Seokjin nodded firmly at the end of the list, then seemed to remember something. “And talk to your mage-handler and see about tethering you to the spring. That’s probably more important. We can do the other things tomorrow if we have to, but the tethering should be done sooner rather than later. That is, if you want to be tethered to the spring. You wouldn’t necessarily have to live here your whole life, we could always get you your own home, it would just—”

“Living here is fine, and yes, I would like to be tethered to the spring,” You said quickly, noticing how his speech was deteriorating. “I just have one question.”

“Oh?” He looked so genuinely concerned, leaning forward in his seat.

“Namjoon said you wear glasses, so...have you actually seen me?”

Namjoon snickered.

Seokjin’s ears turned bright red. “Um. Yes. Yes I can see you. I have seen you. I’m seeing you. I, um, I put in my, um, contacts. I can see you quite clearly. Also, I could see you when I was closer. Just, not after a certain distance. And yes, we do plan on actively protecting you when we go out.”

You nodded. “Just curious.”

Namjoon paused after swallowing. “The mage is back.”

Seokjin sighed. “So, town tomorrow then. I’ll go let him in. I suppose this means I need to offer him dinner?”

“That would be the polite thing,” Namjoon said, gleefully.

Seokjin muttered as he left the room.

“He’s...unusual for a human,” You commented.

Namjoon nodded. “Yeah. He is. But he’s one of the best human’s I’ve ever met. We’re really glad you’re going to stay with us, Y/n. I hope you never regret your choice.”

“I hope so too.” But you didn’t think you would.

Namjoon turned toward the door, eyes narrowed slightly before rolling his eyes. “Can you help me cover the food? Apparently Mr. Mage is insisting on doing the tethering now if you agree to it.”

You rolled your eyes and got up to help him cover all three plates and the platters and bowls with tin foil to possibly retain some warmth. You highly doubted you’d be eating again that evening since tethering made you impossibly nauseous and sleepy. “I won’t be very coherent after the tethering.”

He nodded. “We’ll make sure you get back here and into bed safely, or into the tub downstairs.”

You nodded, then followed him out to where Seokjin was listening to your mage, looking strained.

“Ah, so, have you decided whether you wish to be tethered to the spring here or not?”

“I have decided to be tethered, yes.” Anything to not be in his careless hands anymore.

“Excellent! I’ll get the fountain!”

“How about I grab it, that way your hands are free to do the actual spell,” Jin quickly intervened. “Namjoon can lead the way back to the mouth of the spring.”

You breathed a sigh of relief as the mage agreed to it. At least Seokjin would be careful.

“Alright, then lets head to this spring! I’d love to be on the road before dark.”

Namjoon’s chin jutted out slightly.

Seokjin just gave a pained smile, nodding. “Yes. Driving after dark is a pain. Namjoon. Lead the way.”

And you weren’t about to tell on Namjoon when you saw one of the floorboards pop up to trip the mage, because you kind of felt somewhat vindicated.

The forest around the house was made up primarily of spruces, firs, pines, and hemlocks with birches, oaks, and red maples popping through here and there. The path that the four of you took (with a little fluffball following overhead and a calico furball following behind curiously) was discreet, yet also fairly well-worn. As though walked often, but also well-cared for.

It was quiet, with varying degrees of density—some areas providing a wide view of the rest of the forest, and other areas being so dense that you couldn’t see a foot past the nearest tree.

Namjoon followed the path for a while, then diverged into the forest down what appeared to be a game-trail, something not walked often.

Then you could sense the water. It’s purity, it’s cleanliness. Free and untethered.

The creek was beautiful, and all of you followed it to the head of the spring.

You grinned when you saw it, a thrill going through you. It was beautiful and so clean and lovely and it was going to be yours.

Seokjin set your fountain down so that the mage could prepare the spell, then came over to you. “You’re sure about this?”

You looked into his eyes, the eyes of one of your soulmates, and nodded. “I’ve never been more certain about anything in my life.”

The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled, a little more carefree now.

You hoped you’d have the courage to talk about soulmates with him someday, but today you were going to have your soul ripped from a tiny fountain and sewn back into a spring. You only had so much courage.

And then the mage started the spell.

Survey Results used for this chapter:

Namjoon-Blue (haltija), Seokjin-Pink (human), You-Cyan (xana)

Silk, Book-Librarian, Creek-what your water source is attached to, House/Apartment/Mansion, Style-Victorian & Contemporary, view-boreal/boreal-mix forest, calico kitty, white bird with black wings,

Whoops-meet Seokjin first, Oh No-meet Namjoon second, LaLaLa-C (some friends, some strangers), Loyalty-Soulmate au, Black-War tore through and you're all in relief housing situation.

Pre-Chapter 2 Survey

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Masterlist. ot7 Masterpost.

Taglist: @missmoxxiesworld @bryvada @i-dont-even-know-fck @knjhe @alex--awesome--22 @kerikaaria @killcomet @letsreadbts @taestannie

#fairy au #supernatural au #bts fic #bts ot7 #ot7 #bts #kim seokjin #kim namjoon #namjoon #seokjin #haltija!Namjoon #human!seokjin #xana!reader #soulmate!au #soulmate!bts #readers choice fic #clearwater springs fic #ot7 x reader #bts x reader

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abigailnussbaum · 4 years

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How to do Garak/Bashir in Canon DS9

Yesterday there was a fun tweet asking people how they would remake DS9 if they were given the option today.

Which led to some fun discussions (you can see my answers here). Obviously one thing that pretty much everyone said was “canon Garak/Bashir”. That’s generally considered one of the show’s big missed opportunities, with both Andrew J. Robinson and some of the show’s producers expressing regret over never having gone there. But it did get me thinking: how would you tell this sort of story? Because look, it’s one thing to write Garak/Bashir in fanfic, filling in gaps in the canon or changing the entire tone of the story to suit your ‘ship. But if you’re retelling DS9 along basically the same lines - the end of the Cardassian occupation, the discovery of the wormhole, the Jem’hadar, the Dominion, the war with Cardassia - and with the personalities of the characters and the tone of the show largely unchanged, how do you fit Garak/Bashir into that story?

There are some obvious issues with trying to work this ship into the show’s story and overall tone. For one thing, Bashir is a Starfleet officer. We like to make fun of his early, annoying incarnation, but even in that form he is clearly a decent, principled man with strong values. It’s one thing to flirt (literally or figuratively) with a mysterious, sexy spy, but getting into a relationship with him would not only be stupid, it would run counter to Bashir’s image of himself. You could go in a dark direction with this - Garak seduces Bashir purely as a way of gaining power over him (and perhaps out of force of habit); maybe they end up in a kind of Hannibal/Will relationship. But that doesn’t seem sustainable in the long-term, or congruent with the type of show DS9 was. Bashir can’t trust Garak, and Garak has done things that Bashir would consider disgusting. That’s something you have to take into consideration if you want to write them as a long-term couple.

It’s also worth considering that, as much as the Garak/Bashir pairing lingers over the fannish perception of the show, it’s not actually that prominent in the series itself. The last episode that I would call a Garak/Bashir story, “Our Man Bashir”, is an early S4 episode, well before the Dominion War happens. And Garak is absent for a lot of the later developments in Bashir’s life - “Doctor Bashir, I Presume” (you’d think Garak, with his complicated relationship with his father, would have something to say about Julian having been illegally genetically enhanced by his parents) or “Statistical Probabilities” (a troupe of savants who claim to be able to predict the course of the war would surely be of interest to Garak). In most of these stories, Bashir is accompanied by O’Brien, a much safer option as far as suppressed sexual tension is concerned (it should go without saying that this feels like a deliberate choice on the show’s part, to undermine any idea of a Garak/Bashir relationship). Meanwhile, Bashir is absent from most of Garak’s important Dominion War stories - his relationship with Ziyal and her death, his position in Damar’s rebellion, “In the Pale Moonlight”. So if you’re going to retell DS9 with Garak/Bashir as a real ship, you'd have to rewrite a lot of these stories to take that into account.

Finally, you’ve got the show’s ending, which is an extremely dark one for Garak, who gets everything he thought he wanted - his position restored, a place of honor in Cardassian society - just at the point where Cardassia is decimated and, in his words, left dead. Working a romance with Bashir into this ending would be tricky, and risks ending up with the final scenes of Man of Steel - two people making out atop a mass grave.

(Obviously, I’m taking it as a given that this hypothetical version of DS9 is much, much better at writing mature, complicated romantic relationships than the real one. Most actual DS9 romance was painfully juvenile, and the one exception, Sisko/Kasidy, was also an extremely low-drama ship - Sisko literally sent Kasidy to jail and the next time they met they were like “so, that was a bit of a bump in the road; dinner later?” It should go without saying that Garak/Bashir would not be a low-drama ship, so the writing would need to be there to support it.)

Anyway, complicated but obviously not impossible. This is what I’ve come up with for how I would rewrite the show with Garak/Bashir as an ongoing couple. I’m sure there’s plenty of fanfic with other, better ideas.

To start with, lose the claustrophobia business. Or, you know, keep it, but the reason Garak was expelled from the Obsidian Order and banished from Cardassia is that he’s gay. (To be fair, I feel like “claustrophobia” was pretty clearly code even in the original show.) A lot of people in the upper echelons of the Cardassian hierarchy know this - Dukat certainly knows - and miss no opportunity to harass him about it.

Obviously, in this version of the show Cardassia is deeply queerphobic. I don’t think this is a huge leap. Cardassian society is deeply conformist, and family-oriented in a fascist-adjacent sort of way that prioritizes the father as the master of the home. It’s hard to imagine a society like that tolerating deviations from gender norms, and it seems fair to assume that reprecussions for such deviations would be severe.

Garak doesn’t actually have a problem with this - or at least, not that he expresses. Garak’s defining trait is that he believes in, and loves, Cardassia deeply, and espouses its chauvinistic (in both senses of the word) values to anyone who will listen. But at the same time, he’s smart enough (and enough of an outsider) to know how hollow and destructive those values really are. So Garak will explain to anyone who challenges him on it that Cardassian homophobia is right and proper, while knowing that he has fallen victim to it himself.

Bashir is out. Though “out” might not be the right word because the Federation is so nonchalant about queerness that the notion of being closeted doesn’t really exist anymore (this is a version of Star Trek where we actually follow through on the promise of a more progressive future). But at any rate, to Bashir and the other Starfleet characters, him being gay is so unremarkable that it doesn’t even come up until his and Garak’s frienship is already established. This deeply shocks Garak - he knew humans were perverted, but the good Doctor, his friend? Bashir, meanwhile, wastes no opportunity to needle Garak about his society’s barbaric homophobia (Garak: “humans may be prone to such... urges, but Cardassians are made of finer stuff”; Bashir: *rolls eyes so hard he can see the back of his head*). But at the same time, and without being entirely willing to admit it to himself, Garak is intrigued.

And so we continue for about five seasons. Garak flirts with Bashir, partly because he thinks this is a way of unsettling the good Doctor, but really because he wants him. Bashir assumes that it’s all an act, and plays along with it a little because, hey, sexy spy. But he never imagines that it could go somewhere real, and probably wouldn’t follow through if it did.

And then Bashir gets replaced with a Changeling (this is a version of DS9 where that idea was seeded throughout the first half of the fifth season instead of being decided on five minutes before “In Purgatory’s Shadow” started shooting). And the changeling takes one look at Garak, sees an obvious in, and seduces him. Which clearly causes some awkwardness when Garak finds the real Bashir in a Dominion prison camp.

Bashir finds out. Worf tells him (this is a version of Worf who isn’t weirdly sexist and judgmental about other people’s sex lives). (Bashir: “why is Garak being so weird around me?”; Worf: “he and the fake you were doing it”; Bashir: “what”; Worf: “they were boning”; Bashir: “WHAT”; Worf: “they were engaging in sexual intercourse”; Bashir: “that's not possible. Garak only flirts with me to keep me on my toes”; Worf: *shrugs* “if that’s what you want to call it”.)

So now Bashir is upset because he’s spent the last five years bugging Garak about Cardassian homophobia and it turns out that Garak was a victim of it, plus he’s now been victimized by someone wearing Bashir’s face. And Garak is upset because he let his attraction to Bashir (Garak: “my base lust!”) blind him to the fact that his friend had been replaced by a changeling, leading to him being comromised as an agent (I will leave it as an exercise to the readers which one bothers him more). And, well, if you can’t get from there to romance on your own, you may not have read enough fanfic in your life.

Then you get the war, and honestly, I don’t know. You could do an on/off thing. You could make it a very casual relationship in between the two of them trying not to die and/or lose the Alpha Quadrant to the Dominion. You could have Bashir say “fuck it, I might die tomorrow and this guy makes me happy; who cares if my boyfriend is a liar and a murderer”. You could even go the Worf/Jadzia route and have them muse romantically about having a life together after the war. But either way, they spend more time around each other than they did in the original series.

But! When Garak goes back to Cardassia to help Damar’s rebellion, there’s a lot of tension between them, because Damar heard from Dukat that Garak is a pervert (you could still keep Ziyal’s death and Garak’s anger at Damar over it; those two always made more sense as friends anyway). And then it turns out that there’s an entire Cardassian queer underground, and in typical Cardassian fashion they’ve turned it into a whole spy network with operatives at every level of government. (Garak: “why did you never approach me?”; queer Cardassian underground: “dude, have you met you?”) And they’re willing to work with Damar if he promises that in the new Cardassia, they will no longer be persecuted (I think this dovetails pretty nicely with Garak’s observation that Damar needs to be disillusioned about the flaws of Cardassian society). So all of a sudden Garak is looking at a future where what he is doesn’t make him a pariah anymore.

And then you get to the destruction of Cardassia, and, again, I’m not sure how that combines with Garak/Bashir. The entire ending of DS9 is pretty rough on romantic pairings in general, but at least when Kira/Odo and Sisko/Kasidy break up, it’s bittersweet, and in service of other new beginnings. Garak’s ending is just bleak, and I’m not sure how you deal with a romance on top of that. The best I can come up with is Bashir saying “yes, this is horrible, but you can rebuild, and if you need my help with that, I’m not far”, leaving a door open for them to reconnect in the future.

Thoughts?

#deep space nine #garak/bashir #this got long

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starshineandbooks · 4 years

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Remedy (Loaft)

This is made for a personal head canon in the Loaft verse. The original fics are by @tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors.

Ao3

If you asked three people how to get to Whickhills you’d have gotten four different answers. That was decades ago. Now, you get four answers, but they aren’t the same as they might have been.

When you make it to Whickhills, especially if it’s around the pagan holidays. Most Notably Beltane, Halloween, and Samhin. Or, the summer solstice, all hallow’s eve, and the winter solstice.

The people of Whickhills will chase visitors out before nightfall, to protect the visitors. However, the most infamous family to chase someone out is the Picani-Adams clan, about half of them are sweet as pie, and the other is hell on wheels.

There are several families that are a little odd, they live in Whickhills, all the families are odd. But a few stand out more than others.

The Whitaman family, distantly related to the knight of the spider prince’s court. The line split well before Margretta Fischer, if anyone had cared to know, most did not. A line of witches, though the last four generations have been hybrids, half fairy half witch. But the best in town for getting messages to and from the dead. The eldest still living, and most powerful in that family, Bia as everyone calls her, is said to have known the Spider Prince years and years ago. Bia was one of Roman’s friends, but not a close one until many years had passed and the witch himself had turned grey.

The Picani-Adams family, like stated before, are either the sweetest people in the world, or the most chaotic. Though they tend to like coffee, and know how to brew. With a definite sass streak, even in the sweet members of the clan, they can and will retaliate if pushed. The family has a nose for trouble, and a taste for adventure. But even stronger, they have a deep bond that few understand. The Picani-Adams also have a penchant for pranks, and the weird ability to stay out of trouble.

The Waller family is known for big blue eyes and even more so for strawberry blonde curls. They all have a pretty voice, though not the magic kind that the most famous Waller, Patton, had in his life. The Wallers are very loyal, and still run a farm. They still have the old barn door, where there are initials and messages carved into the old decaying wood.

The Sanders family, the most noticeably magic family. They all have some gift or other, the gift or storytelling, the gift or persuasion, the gift or wisdom. Many different gifts. Many different names and faces. Occasionally you’ll find a Sanders with slightly suspicious eyes, not often, but maybe the eyes are just slightly too much one color.

The Pennybackers. They have a penchant for befriending spiders. They’re typically kind, though the stray jerk is known to happen. With an affinity for stripes and oddly enough German, this family is loyal to the end.

There are also places that stand out, even to those that have lived there their entire life.

The old Gage house. It’s orchards are still tended to, but no one is quite sure who does it. The garden is still maintained and pumpkins grow very well in the soil, though no one knows why. Some times, especially around Beltane, Sahmin, and Halloween, the chimney has smoke coming from it and steps can be seen in the dirt path. Chickens are still kept in the coop.

A clearing in the woods, violets grow around it’s borders. Thornless blackberry bushes, and thornless red roses grow to the east. To the west in the clearing, marigolds and little blue flowers grow. Belladonna in the center, around an apple tree. Some people say the plants represent the Spider prince and his consorts. Some say the Lynx Queen uses it as her personal garden. Some say it’s the summer who looks half rotten, using his powers for good.

The graveyard. That often stands out to people, but this one isn’t the normal reason. It has flowers that grow across it and moss across every inch. The flowers that enter the place never die. The headstones stay clear and unweathered. Wind chimes hang around the place, but they never seem creepy.

Linda leans against the old Gauge house, it’s about two fifty in the morning on what is now Halloween. Everyone is asleep. Except apparently Linda, her wife Percy, their daughter Penny, and Linda’s pseudo uncle Remus.

A figure approaches the quartet, long air moving in the soft autumn breeze.

“You’re earlier than I expected.” The woman, Bia, smiles.

“I’m anxious is what I am.” Linda snorts.

Bia smiles softly, “I wouldn’t be. The things that went after your grandmother are gone.”

“So is she though.”

Bia just shakes her head, “I’m just here to help you reach out to them you know.”

“I know. Thank you Bia.”

“Bianca. My name, it’s Bianca.”

“What?”

“A gift kitty.” She smiles warmly, “Long overdue. Unasked for and freely given. Linda, your birthday was a few days ago, I’m sorry I was gone.”

“It’s just my Eight hundreth ninety second birthday.” Linda frowns, “It’s not important.”

Bia pulls something from her coat pocket, “Yeah it is kitty girl.”

Linda snorts, shaking her head, “If you say so.”

“It’s important Linny.” Percy says sharply, “I said so”

“Mom’s right mama.” Penny grins, her slightly too sharp teeth glinting.

Bia hands Linda an object, “I found it the other night, cleaning out some old boxes.”

Linda looks down, opening the small box she was handed. Several pieces of jewelry sit in it, all with her father’s guild and magic in them.

“How?”

“The town decided I should have all of them. And when they were all given to me it was so fresh I thought it would hurt you. I shouldn’t have kept them so long, they aren’t mine.”

“No, no, it’s not okay. Thank you.” Linda looks up, forcing a smile.

Bia smiles softly, “You don’t have to fake it Linda. I’m sure Remus, Percy, and Penny can take you not smiling.”

“We can Linny.” Percy says.

“C’mon Bobby.” Remus grins, “Let it go.”

Linda blinks, still straining her smile, “Why would you say I am faking a smile?”

Bia just hums, “you’re about as good at it right now as your papa was at lying.”

Linda rolls her eyes, “Whatever. Just tell them I love them, and miss them, and uh- thanks for everything.”

“I will. Anyone else want to add?”

“They raised a good girl.” Percy hums, “And I’m glad they had her”

“It’s boring here without them, no one to bother really.” Remus adds.

“I wish I had met them. They seem nice?” Penny adds.

Bia nods. She sits down in the grass, legs crossed and eyes closed. She hums softly, a hint of magic to her voice.

Her thoughts echo across the yard, the words each person asked to have relayed playing in the person’s voice. At the very end of the list it goes silent.

Bia stays still and quiet, breathing deeply.

A minute passes before she stands turning to Linda and smiling softly

“They say happy late birthday kitty girl. And that they’re proud of you.”

Bia turns to Percy, “They’re glad Linda has you.”

Penny looks up when Bit turns to her, “And that they will be glad to meet you one day in the far, far future.”

“And me?” Remus asks.

Bia laughs softly, “That you haven’t changed a bit.”

Bia pushes to her feet, stopping when she catches sight of twelve crows, who caw.

“Well that’s not great.” She sighs, shaking her head.

“What’s not great?”

“Twelve crows.”

“What?”

Bia laughs softly, “Surely May taught you the old crow rhyme. Twelve as I head it means a journey that’s soon at it’s end if I remember right.”

“Oh.” Linda sighs, “But that doesn’t make sense.”

“It never does.”

Bia sighs, “I should go. Deliliah will be worried if I’m late. Good night, I’ll see you later.”

“Good night Bianca.” Linda calls.

-__+__-

A month passes and no one seems to remember the crow warning. Because, it isn’t often that twelve crows group on the roof of an old house.

Linda finds herself faced with a hunter, unfortunately she wasn’t fast enough and she gets shot. It was an accident, the hunter mistook her for a cat.

But the bullet is iron.

The pain she feels while she slowly burns and dies while her body tries and fails to heal is excruciating. She screams, and screams. Her voice distorting and multiplying, making even her own brain buzz.

Remus finds her first, dropping to his knees, “Bobby, kid?”

She screams louder.

“Linda.” He says, and he never calls her that, “Linda listen to me, you’ll be okay.”

Linda thrashes as he tries to soothe her. She was shot right below the heart. It has already started to burn from the iron. She won’t live, she knows it.

Remus shakes his head, he can’t let her suffer.

Percy rushes and drops to her own knees, Percy in tow.

“You have to send her.” Remus says slowly.

“I don’t- I do don’t I?”

“You have to.”

“Linda, daughter of Spider prince changeling siren and witch, Lynx Princess, autumn, Tochter Spinne, wife of lake, mother of summer, go home.” Percy says thickly, “And don’t wait for me.”

Linda loses life quickly, but her horrible agonized screaming does quiet.

Remus looks to Percy, “It’s good that you’re already in charge, and even better we’ve sworn to you. But-” He chokes, “There’ll be trouble without Linda.”

Percy nods, looking rather numb.

“You’ll die too now won’t you mom?” Penny speaks up, “Like mama?”

Percy turns, shaking her head, “No. Not while you still need me.”

“Thank you.” Percy whispers.

Percy smiles softly, mechanically, “We had better go tell everyone then.”

-__+__-

Linda looks up from where she lays, big puffy white clouds sit in the blue sky with the sun bright behind her. She registers that she lays in shallow water, and smells the ocean. She turns to realize that she’s on a beach, and wonders idly why the salt in the water doesn’t sting.

She slowly pushes to sit up, glancing around. There’s a forest to her right, and she tilts her head, wondering where she is to begin with.

The afterlife.

She sighs, supposing she would be. She can’t hear Percy, or feel her loved ones’ magic.

Linda pushes to her feet, shoving her wild curls behind her ears. She starts off towards the forest, walking slowly and keeping her senses alert.

She recognizes the trees to be apple trees. Odd.

Linda walks through the forest, catching sigh of a ladder against a tree further ahead. She shrugs, wandering over. Maybe it’s one of her parents, likely her pop, Roman Gauge.

She makes it to the ladder and finds a woman with a mane of fiery hair at the top.

“You’re not my pop.” She says, her voice scratchy and petulant. “If this is the afterlife, why isn’t he here?”

The woman turns and her face twists weird before recognition crosses it. She looks excited and upset at once, as though someone just showed her the lobe of her life, but she realized she couldn’t have them.

“Linda?”

Linda squints up at her, “Who’s askin’?”

“I’m Abbey. Abbey Gauge.”

“Pop’s ma?” She asks, a little confused.

Abbey nods, “They’ll be surprised. What happened sweetheart?”

Abbey blinks up at Abbey, “you look like pop.”

“Thank you.”

“I was shot under my heart by an iron bullet. It was an accident though.” Linda sighs, “But- they’re all here? Right? My dads, and Brian, my uncles, everyone?”

Abbey nods, “But mom’s gonna kill you. It’s so early for you Linda.”

“Well, I didn’t plan to die.” She scoffs, a teasing tone.

“Good. They’re straight ahead.” She points to the left.

Linda grins, “Really?”

“Really Linda.”

“Thank you!” Linda calls, dashing to the direction she was pointed to.

Linda runs as fast as she can, Dizzy and Jax ending up joining her in her run. Well, Jax is flying, but, same thing.

Linda runs smack into Brian, flinging her arms around him. Brian falls flat on his back, stunned.

Jem blinks down at them, he had been talking to Brian, “L-Linda?”

“Jem.” Linda says firmly, burrowing her face into Brian’s chest, “Brian. Oh my god.”

Brian hugs Linda tightly, “Linny? What-”

“Iron is a really horrid way to die B. Zero ten, do not recommend.”

Brian lets out a startled chuckle, “God Linny, you’re early.”

“I already told Abbey, I didn’t plan to die!”

“I should hope not. Virgil’d skin you before anyone else had a chance.”

“I’m glad to see you though.”

“I’m glad to see you too Linda. I just wish you, y’know.”

“I know.”

Brian lays on the ground, hugging Linda, with the biggest smile on his face. Linda has buried her face into her slightly older cousin, smiling brightly. Not that anyone could tell.

“B?” Thomas asks, “Who’s that?”

Brian and Linda stand up, dusting themselves off. Brian grins at his dad.

Linda turns, smiling, “Thomas!”

Thomas barley braces himself before Linda hugs him tightly, throwing herself at him full force. Linda is purring and realizes she has been since she first tore off towards where Abbey pointed her.

“Linny.” Thomas laughs softly, “What happened?”

Linda shakes her head, “Tell you all at once?”

Thomas nods, “You’re so strong. We’re so proud of you.”

“Why, I’m dead.”

“So are we.”

Linda snorts, “But y’all are s’possed to be. Everyone acts like I’m not s’possed to be.”

“Oh Linda, we’re just sad that you’re not with your family anymore.”

“You’re my family.”

“So is Percy.”

“Percy!” Linda tenses, “Oh god, I left her with Penny.”

“Penny?”

“My daughter.”

Brian smiles, “Who’d you think said they wished they’d met us?”

“Would you please move?!” A voice demands.

Linda turns slowly in her uncles arms to see her four men who look mostly like her parents, but very young.

“Are those?”

“Yeah.”

Linda breaks free of Thomas’ arms and sprints towards her parents. Roman, used to this, even now, especially now, picks her up and spins her in a happy circle.

“Kitty girl!” Roman beams, “Oh god, look at you. Look at how pretty my baby is!”

Linda laughs gently, “Po-op.” She whines, “Lemme down, I wanna hug you proper!”

Roman shakes his head, “Nope, my little princess is here, and I’m going to spin her forever!’ He continues to spin her, making her laugh.

“Roman, set her down. I should like to meet my granddaughter properly now.” A woman says.

Linda looks to the woman as Roman sets her down, hugging her from behind.

The woman is clearly a faerie, and almost certainly unseelie. Her hair is long, inky black tendrils that seem to ripple and move. She has glowing purple eyes, much like Virgil’s own. She has skin even paler than Virgil’s, pure white like the snow. Blood red lips. She almost looks like snowhite, if snowwhite made everything feel cold, and dimmed the light just around her.

The woman’s shadow seems sentient, like peter pan’s.

But the voice, she’s heard that voice once in her life, years and years, and years ago.

“Grandmother?” Linda asks, “Is that you?”

The woman nods, smiling softly, “Yes, dear, it is. You can call me as you like, some call me Cara.”

Linda smiles gently, “Grandmother, thank you.”

“What for?”

“Everything.” Linda says softly, “But especially for Penelope.”

“It’s nothing dear. How is she?”

“She was fine when I saw her this morning.”

“She would be taking her mother’s death hard.” Cara says softly, fondly even.

“You-” PAtton chokes.

Linda nods, “I do”

Virgil looks to Linda and surges forward to hug her. “I’m sorry, leaving your child is not easy.”

Linda hugs Virgil back tightly, “No, vati, it isn’t.”

The group hugs and switches places repeatedly. They end up clutching at each other for four hours. Until May shows up.

“Ms. Kitty.”

“Mrs. Kitty actually mamaw.” Linda chirps, sitting up, “Heya!”

May does lecture her, much like everyone predicted. For all of about a minute before she’s crying and Linda is hugging her, having moved quickly again.

-__+__-

That night, at dinner, Linda tells her family what she can.

“My daughter, Penelope, Penny for short, she’s a summer. She’s part wolf, she can speak to canines. The sweetest kid I’ve ever met. She’s got Percy’s green hair, but my skin. And she’s got quicksilver eyes with green in them. She loves art, she often makes us buy her more magenta ink despite the fact she’s using b;lack at the moment.”

“She sounds wild.” Brian grins, “But she’s yours.”

“She won’t hold still long enough to get a braid in her hair, always trying to chase a squirrel.” Linda huffs, “I’m so sorry daddy.”

Patton laughs softly, “It’s okay Linny.”

-__+__-

Not many people can say they even remember what saved the town from the fabled snake king, or that they remember the first Sander family member getting blessed. A few can.

In the town library there’s a series, called love and other fairy tales. The series captures the stories of the Spider Prince and his consorts. There’s a second series, labeled extended tales of fairies and love. A continuation of the first if you will. It still isn’t over, and it fills shelves that keep multiplying.

No one is sure who is writing them. Except, two people.

Bia Whitaman, and the lake Princess, Percy. The two women combined their magic to cast the spell that will write the books for them, under the pen name, Vi.

In the second series, lies every story Brian Sanders ever told, every love felt by not only Logan and his husbands, but their friends. In that series lies Linda’s first love, and her wedding. In that series lies Penny’s first heartbreak that will inevitably happen. And in that series, lies a little of the magic the characters had.

Children still whisper about the snake king in ghost stories. The romantics at heart still fawn over the love that was shared between four powerful men. And mothers still marvel at Dorthoy Sanders’ defending of her children, blood and not.

If anyone cares to know about the characters from the series, because the books can’t capture everything just the most important bits of course, it’s rumored that if you go to the odd clearing with the apple tree at night, that one of four figures will wait for you, ready to answer your questions.

One of them is the Lake princess herself, her green hair ever flowing and blue tinted skin. Another is the summer who is known for looking horribly rotten and smelling rancid, but he’s rumored to have a big heart. A third is Bia Whitaman, her ever black hair inky and wild, her green eyes piercing and kind. The last, is the Wolf Princess, her green hair and silver eyes vigilant and wild.

They’ll tell you many stories.

Maybe you’ll hear about a set of brothers loyal to each other more than to any one else, one of them is a changeling with silver eyes and a big heart, and the other is a human with the kindest soul they’ve ever met. Or they might tell you about a self sacrificing witch who needed to get out of his own head and realize how loved he really was. Or maybe they’ll tell you about the farm boy with an enchanting voice?

Perhaps they’ll tell you about The therapist and the brewer. Or maybe the wild Lynx Princess. Maybe the spiteful but loving old woman. Or the eternally strong Dot and her loving husband Larry. Maybe she’ll tell you about Kai, or Sloane, or Corbin. Maybe the man who took the changeling’s brother’s heart. Maybe the child who tld the best stories.

They will tell you about a storyteller and the lynx princess. They will tell you about the Spider Prince braiding his child’s hair.

But their favorite story to tell, even if it is in writing in the library, will always start with how to get to Whickhills.

Everyone says differently, but the best answer is that you have to listen to your instincts.

#SSB writes #laoft #sanders sides

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ask-the-chan-family · 5 years

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It’s Time for Uncle Ancient Wisdom

Continuation from last wisdom Outside from the internal airport, Viper was standing by the corner of the street, waiting for someone that was meant to pick up. Usually she had no problem using her car, and drive to the museum, but she remember during her conversation with Carmen Pondiego that she was going to pick her up with one of her agent that work for her.. Viper look around the street to see if the car she was there, but so far all she see was people being pick up from the airport, and several cabbies waiting for escort. Viper was thinking about the heist she was about to do with Carmen, and she starting to have second thoughts about it. She know that Carmen only care about stealing the Dragon Ball that Jackie research team were able to find, and leave, but deep inside her heart that this is her boyfriend big break, and she doesn’t want anything bad happened to him. While her mind was thinking of what she going to do next, she heard a car horn a few times that caught her attention. At first she thought it was just one of the cabbie that was bothering her, but she notice a red limousine that park right next to her. Viper was shock to see a limousine was right next to her, but never saw it drove by before. She look at the limousine for a moment, until she saw a door opening from the driver seat. Viper see a guy with orange hair walk up to her, but this person was a bit out of the ordinary. She look at his face to see what he look like, but his face was cover with sunglasses and a cap. Viper wasn’t sure what he was going to do, but she notice that the guy was asking her name. Mysterious guy: are you the human woman that go by the name Viper? Viper: yes that me, who is asking? Mysterious guy: before I give you the answer, I need to ask you one thing. Do you believe in mystical creatures, and magic? Viper: Mister! I been through a lot of weird things helping out a pacific family that are huge magnet to magic, and demons all the time. So if you going to try to scare me, you best try harder. Mysterious guy: *he laugh* very well then, I guess you’re alright to see the real me. Viper wasn’t sure wasn’t sure what the mysterious guy said, until she saw him walk back a few step from her. He remove his glasses and able to see his green eyes, but the eyes themselves weren’t human. Next thing she know it, the guy body shape started to change, and alter into a bug like pony with a horn. Viper was lost in words, wasn’t sure what to say next. The bug like creature look at Viper and started to laugh, liking how every time he able to shock people like that. Before Viper able to find the words she need to say to him, another voice came out of nowhere, but this voice was familiar to her. She look at the end of the limousine and see a women with a red hat peeking out from the window. The bug like creature knew that his boss was about to lose her patient with him, so he had to quit playing with Viper, and have her in the car. Marehem: *he laugh* sorry about startle you like that miss, I tend to trick people like that all the time. The Marehem by the way. Viper: Viper, and you not need to worry, I’m very use to seeing things that out of the ordinary all the time. It just I never seen someone like you before. What are you exactly? Marehem: I’m a changeling Miss Viper, but that all I’m going to say. There are some thing you don’t want need to know very much. Now then Miss Viper, I best have you inside right now, before my boss lose her temper on me. Carmen Pondiego: a little too late Marehem, because I was getting tired waiting for you to finish your little game, M. Marehem: come on Red, can’t a guy have a little fun messing with human once awhile. I rarely go to the human world very often. Carmen Pondiego: there are many good reason why you can’t go to the human world anymore, M. But I’m going to save this talk another time, right now we have an important mission, and we are on the clock. Marehem: very well then, do you still want me to escort Miss Viper in the car? Carmen Pondiego: I do that myself, just get inside and be ready to go. Marehem: But Carmen Pondiego: two words M. Wood Chipper. Marehem didn’t said another word, and do what his boss said. Once he got in the car, Carmen sigh to herself wondering how she deal with him for so long, and yet still work for her. She look back to Viper, and did her best to apology about her assistant behavior. Carmen Pondiego: I do apology for M behavior Viper, he tend to have a little fun when messing with humans like that, but he is a nice guy once you get to know him. Viper: it no problem Carmen, I have a habit to mess with people head when they first me the first time. Have to admit, I never seen someone like him before. Carmen Pondiego: well you don’t really see changeling like him around the human world, especially most of us are from Equestria. Viper: Equestria! What is that? Carmen Pondiego: Equestria is a special place where ponies, and creature’s live in harmony, or something like that. There is more detail about it, but it would take a whole day to explain it to you. Viper: thanks, I would have been board halfway is you did, but if you are from that world, why bother coming to the human world all the time. Carmen Pondiego: simple really, it a lot more fun here. The human have better artifact to track down, less magic defenses to deal with, and the location of fancy restaurant I do like. Viper: well I can’t blame you for some of things you said, but I sense there something else that made you want to come to the human world very often. Carmen Pondiego: well there are two reason really. One is personal, and the other, you might know him already. Viper: know who already? Carmen Pondiego: you and Jackie may know him as Thomas the writer, well Thomas is actually an old friend of mine. Viper: …….. Hold on a second, you knew Thomas the writer, and you never mention this before? Carmen Pondiego: well you never bother to ask me Viper, and beside, this is the first time you seeing me, and learning a little bit where I came from. Viper: that true, it just felt a little weird the very person that been my rival in thievery, is actually a pony from another world. Carmen Pondiego: I would like to be known as a unicorn please. When a human said pony like that, it make me want to slap them on the face, and your too cute slap for me to do that. Viper: *she blush* um, thank you I guess. Carmen Pondiego: now then, if that all you needed to ask me Viper, can we get in the limousine and head for the museum. I want to get there as soon as possible, before they raises the security at the place. Viper: oh you won’t need to worry about that. I actually have a friend who did some favor for me from the past. My cellphone have a special function to cut off any security system in a ten mile radius, which give you, and your friend to get inside without a problem. Carmen Pondiego: Clever girl. There a reason why I want you to join me on this mission. Viper: well you made an offer I couldn’t refuse, but remember our deal though. Carmen Pondiego: I’m a mare of my word, Viper. There will be no harm on your boyfriend, M and I will be in the area to stop any kind of danger that will come on our way. Viper: you think there will be a great threat to deal with? Carmen Pondiego: Maybe, especially when the museum donor gave them a lot of money for that artifact, they might send someone to double check for any problem. But I could be wrong, and it nothing at all. Viper: well if you think things be alright, let do this then. Marehem: hey, if you two done talking, I would like to get there, before I lose my mind of boredom. Carmen Pondiego: what happen to the handheld game I lent you, before we got here? Marehem: the only game that came with it was Tetris, and already board after beating it a few dozen times. Carmen Pondiego: Sigh, then I guess we have to go, before you started nagging of being board. Marehem: first of all, I don’t always nag. I only nag when things get boring. Carmen Pondiego: whatever make you feel happy, M? Viper laugh to herself after seeing how funny Carmen and her friend Marehem bicker with each other. Viper was thinking about the time when bicker with her for being a thief, which she always tell him that she was a formal thief. Part of her already know that she going to break her promise to Jackie, and Jade that she wasn’t going to steal anymore, but Carmen told she only care about getting the Dragon Ball, and Viper be in the clear. While Viper was thinking to herself, she notice that Carmen was calling her name, letting her know that they were ready to go. Viper head inside the back of the limousine, and they were off to the museum. While at the Museum of National of history, inside one of the research room, Jackie was studying one of the Dragon Ball from his archeological dig site. During his examination, Jackie was impress of how the Dragon Ball still have it shine, while burring inside a sunken ship for many years. When he stop looking at the Dragon Ball, Jackie look at his notes for some of the information he had written from learning about the Dragon Balls from old scrolls. So far he learned that they were some kind of ancient artifact that someone grant people wishes, after they summon an old dragon from the Dragon Balls. He also learn that in order to gain a single wish, you must gather all seven in order for it to work. Jackie sigh to himself, knowing that he got himself into something weird again. Usually he never attract supernatural stuff, but it always bond to find him. Jackie step away from his desk for a moment, just to get stretches his legs. Before he walk away, he grab something from one of the desk draw, which he kept hidden from anyone else to know about it. Jackie grab what look like a small black box, he smile when he look at it, knowing that the person he going to give it to, will like it a lot. While looking at the black box for a few minutes, Jackie heard someone was knocking at his door. Normally someone knocking at his door wasn’t weird, but most of his people he work with went home early, and he was the only person at the museum. Jackie heard the knocking again, which force him to see who it was. Once he reach the door, Jackie turn the doorknob, and open the door. From there, Jackie saw a bovine women wearing an officer uniform, and an eye patch covering her right eye was standing in front of him. At first, Jackie would have been surprised to see her appearance, but after dealing with a friend who was a talking pony, it was a normal thing to him. The bovine women stare at, Jackie with her one good eye, then speak to him in a professional way. Elizabeth Redfield: greeting good sir, are you happen to be Jackie Chan? Jackie Chan: yes that me, and who might you be? Elizabeth Redfield: *she gently bow to him* my name is Elizabeth Redfield, I’m the mysterious donor personal secretary. Is it possible I can come in, and speak with you? Jackie Chan: oh of course you can *he open the door to let Elizabeth in* I wasn’t inspecting anyone to come here this late at this hour. Elizabeth Redfield: my apology. My client wanted me to come here to check up on the ancient artifact that you, and your research team had found. At first I told my client to see if come by in the morning, but they insisted to come here at once. Jackie Chan: well normally I don’t have anyone come here this late at night, but since your client was nice enough to donate a lot of money for the museum, I don’t see why not. Jackie escorted Elizabeth, and walk her over to his desk. From there, Jackie show her one of the Dragon Ball he was examine at. Elizabeth was amaze of how wonderful it look, which part of her wanted to pick it up to examine it closer. Jackie grab one of the pair of gloves he had on the side, and grab the Dragon Ball. He show the artifact to her. Jackie Chan: as you can see, my research team and I were able to find one of these Dragon Ball from an underwater abandon ship. I had to admit, I’m still surprised how good condition they are in. Elizabeth Redfield: they look marvelous, but were you able to find the rest of the Dragon Ball? Jackie Chan: not quite yet. We thought we had them all, but after reading a little more about these things, there are a least seven of them, and we going to need more time to find them all. Elizabeth Redfield: I see, and by chance, were you able to locate the others yet? Jackie Chan: almost, I just need more time to read the captain old journal, and see if it had any information about them, and that will take time. Elizabeth Redfield: …. Sigh, very well then. I was sort of hopping that you would have all the dragon balls, but at least my client would know that you retrieve one of them. I’ll let my client know to send the museum more funding to get them all, at once. Jackie Chan: actually, the funding your client send us is enough to last us for a little while. He didn’t need to *before he could finish his sentence, Elizabeth stood in front of him, with her one good eye* Elizabeth Redfield: listen here, Mr. Chan. My client is very keen on wanting these Dragon Balls to be find. I know you, and the rest of team have several other research, but the Dragon Ball must be your high priority. Do I make myself clear? Jackie Chan: …. Gulp, crystal clear. Elizabeth Redfield: excellent, and my apology for my reaction, Mr. Chan. I tend to take my job too seriously Jackie Chan: it’s no problem at all. You’re not the first women to yell in front of me. But any case, I make sure that my team, and I will put a lot of effort of finding the other *just before he could finish his sentence, Jackie check his pocket and notice that his cellphone went off* Elizabeth Redfield: is something a matter Mr. Chan? Jackie Chan: nothing big, it just someone is trying to text me *he look at his phone* oh! It look like I have to go for a second. Someone I personally know is here. Elizabeth Redfield: is it one of your coworker that work here? Jackie Chan: not really, I could say more, but I need to get going. You can stay here for a moment, until I get back. Elizabeth Redfield: fare enough Mr. Chan. I’ll wait here when you get back. Jackie nodded to her, and step out from the office for a second. Part of him know that he shouldn’t leave her like that, especially when he had the artifact on his desk. The text message he had was from Viper, and she was inside the museum. Jackie wanted to catch her quick, and ask her something very important. Somewhere at the other side of the museum, Viper was standing around by the exhibit of spies. Viper at some of the old artifact that famous spies use over the years, she even stood by a black leather suit that once wore by a famous female double, which her true identity haven’t been known yet. Viper look at the suit, and was impress how it would look on her. While her mind was occupied of looking at the suit, she gotten a call from Carmen, and joke around with her a bit. Carmen Pondiego: you know, Viper if you wanted that outfit, I can easily steal it for you later. Viper: hmm very tempting, but I’m going to pass on the offer. I still promise, Jackie that I’m going clean on stealing things. Carmen Pondiego: I understand that my dear. It not that easy to be in a relationship, especially when you to balance being a master thief who run an organization, and a mother of two at the same time. Viper: Oh! I didn’t know you’re a mother? Carmen Pondiego: I try my best to not talk about my personal life while I’m working. I have a tendency to talk about some embarrassing thing my children do. Viper: *she laugh* and I’m guessing both your kids are professional thief like you? Carmen Pondiego: not really. My daughter Adora is an archaeologist like your boyfriend, and my son does some minor work like his father. Sure part of me would be happy to have them continue my work, but the same time. Viper: you want them to have better life being normal, then fallowing a mother who a master thief. Carmen Pondiego: Exactly! Viper: I have the feeling you would say that. I felt the same way when, Jackie ask me out on a date. I thought it was going to be hard at first, but over time we seeing each other more, and feeling much closer. Carmen Pondiego: that the same sign with me, and my husband. I to do your best to keep that feeling with him, Viper. Viper: don’t need to tell me twice. I best get ready, I hear some foot step from a distance. Carmen Pondiego: fare enough, I continue walking down from where I am and. Before she could finish her sentence, Viper lost communication with Carmen, after the line went blank. Viper tried to call her back, but no sign from her at all. Viper was plan to see if she could search for her, but she stop when a familiar voice was calling her name. She look and saw, Jackie was running towards, after running through the hallway to get to her. Viper was happy to see him, which made her wanted to give him a hug. Instead, she made a sarcastic joke that made her chuckle a little. Viper: it look like someone been slacking off on their training. Someone like you should have easily run through those hallways without any problems. Jackie Chan: *breathing heavily* give me a break, Viper. Ever since they gave me this new position, I barely have time to train every day. Viper: *she laugh* I know that, Jackie, but you know that I can’t help myself to pull your leg all the time. Jackie Chan: *he laugh* yeah that is true, and I tend to pull your leg for doing something good for a change. Viper: the only reason why I’m doing “Good Things” is because I’m keeping a promise with someone I love with. Jackie Chan: *he laugh again* yeah that true, and I thank you for keeping that promise. Viper: of course, Jackie. Ever since you first ask me on a date, I want to do my best to be a great girlfriend for you. Jackie Chan: and you have, Viper. But the funny thing with that, you had the opportunity to say no, and continue with your life as a thief. Viper: I would have, but I guess I wanted something a little different in my life, then just stealing valuable items all the time. Jackie Chan: and I’m guessing I was that something to change your life. Viper: in the beginning not really, but after being together with you for a few years now, I feel like my life is almost complete. *she place her hand by her heart* but something else is missing, and I’m not sure what it was. Jackie was trying to figure what she meant, but part of him already know what it was. He check his pocket to make sure the gift he gotten for her was there, but had to wait for the right time. He look up to, Viper and speak with her some more. Jackie Chan: I may not be an expert on love like Jade, but I would understand how you feel. Viper: believe me, Jade may think she know what love is like, but she still have a lot to learn. Any case, tell me what you trying to say. Jackie Chan: you remember my friend, Thomas the writer, who use to live our world. Viper: yes, I still remember him. He had a daughter named Dashie, and they use to visit Uncle Shop all the time. What about him? Jackie Chan: I remember long time ago, Thomas use to tell me a lot about his ex-girlfriend Princess Celestia. Viper: oh my, he was into royalty. I give him credit for having god taste. Jackie Chan: the funny thing with that, Princess Celestia was already on him first, before he ever had a chance to tell her how he feel. Before I forget, Thomas use to tell me a lot of good story he had with her in the old days. He remember when he was the captain of the royal guards, he use to see Princess Celestia play some games on him to gain his attention. He gotten use it in the beginning, but over time Princess Celestia finally came to terms and ask him to be her boyfriend. Viper: she went up to ask him first, instead of him? Jackie Chan: their relationship tend to be weird, but he said that no matter how far they were, or how long they haven’t seen each other. Thomas and Princess Celestia still show their compassion for one another, which why Thomas finally ask her to married him. Viper: but don’t forget that he was a good father to his daughter. Jackie Chan: I never forget that, or Jade would be upset with me. But still, I do miss seeing Thomas, and Dashie. They been part of our family life for so long, it just not the same without them. Viper: I would understand. I know I met them a couple of time, but part of me felt like they been a family to us. Jackie Chan: Yeah, I figure by now he would be married to Princess Celestia, and have a family of his own to add with Dashie. At least for now I have the memories with our friends, but ready to start new ones. Viper: what do you mean by *before she had the chance to finish her sentence, Viper see Jackie was standing on one knee, and look straight at her* Jackie, what going on? Jackie Chan: Viper, I know you didn’t came here to chat about the past, but I know I wanted to show you something important. Viper: ……… Jackie Chan: when I first met you at the museum, during the time I have to get the snake talisman. All I thought about you as being nothing more than a thief. But Jade see you more than someone cool, and deep down … I think so too. Viper: Jackie, what are you trying to say? Jackie Chan: sorry, I’m not really good with these sort of things. *he grab the small box that he had in his pocket and reveal a ring inside* Sigh, Viper, would you married this over work archeologist? Viper was speechless of what going on. Not only she see a wedding ring, but hearing Jackie asking her hand in marriage. Viper wanted to say yes to him, but before she got a chance, she heard someone clapping from a distance. Both Jackie and Viper look and notice a female cow in proper uniform was standing from a distance, clapping for the entertainment she was watching. Jackie look at the female cow and knew it was, Elizabeth Redfield. Jackie Chan: Elizabeth, what are you doing here? I though you was staying at my office. Elizabeth Redfield: my apology Mr. Chan. I know I was meant to wait for you, but I sort of got bored and figure to search for you instead. Viper: Jackie, who is this women? Elizabeth Redfield: you don’t need to say anything, Mr. Chan, I’m capable to introducing myself. My name is Elizabeth Redfield. I’m the personal assistant to an important client that donated a lot of money to this museum. Ad you might be Viper, a formal international thief that have a very bad habit of stealing valuable items. Jackie Chan: hold on, how did you know about, Viper? Elizabeth Redfield: it my job to know everyone, Mr. Chan. Including my rival allies. Isn’t that right, Carmen? Viper and Jackie were confuse of what she said, until they saw two people walking from the other side of the museum. Viper, and Jackie saw Carmen Pondiego being held captive by a female Dalmatian, while holding some sort of magic idol. Jackie was a bit surprise to see, Carmen here, but part of him already figure out what going on. Jackie Chan: Carmen, you’re here too? Carmen Pondiego: yeah I’m here too, but it good to see you thought. Oh! Congrats on getting engage. Agent K-9: that enough talking from you thief, or you want me to use this idol to make you confuse even worst Carmen Pondiego: I dare you to try it again, but this time I won’t make it easy. Elizabeth Redfield: that is quite enough, Delilah. We still need to keep them around long enough, so we can gather the things we need. Agent K-9: yes, Auntie Elizabeth. Elizabeth Redfield: sorry for my niece, she can be a bit passive at time. Jackie Chan: why are you doing this Ms. Redfield? I though you was just a normal assistant with an important client, but I’m guessing you’re a thief as well. Elizabeth Redfield: True *she grab something out of her coat pocket, which was the dragon ball* but I prefer to think of myself a professional Thief, than some boring assistant. Viper: Jackie, you actually let her steal the Dragon Ball? Jackie Chan: no I didn’t, the only way she got it, is that I …. *face palm* I left it on my desk table without putting it away. Carmen Pondiego: don’t worried Mr. Chan, we all make mistake on things. Viper: you rarely make mistake. Carmen Pondiego: I know, which why I was able to swipe the idol from that little K-9 hand. Agent K-9: *she look at her hand, and notice the idol is gone* hey, hand over that idol or *before she could finish her sentence, she was knock out and fell on the floor, after being hit by the idol* Carmen Pondiego: lesson taught kid, never mess with someone with many years of experience. Now then, Elizabeth was it? How about hand over that dragon ball, before we make this a show. Elizabeth Redfield: humph, you think you can take me on, Carmen. I know everything about you, and there is no way you can take me down that easily. Carmen Redfield: you’re very confident of yourself. You remind me a lot of an old friend of mine. Elizabeth Redfield: you should, that friend of yours happen to be my uncle, Thomas the writer. Everyone stood quite for a moment of what she said. Jackie, and Viper knew that name from anywhere, but never would guess that he would have a niece already. Carmen wasn’t that much surprise since she know about Thomas family, but not that much of his sibling side other then, Nova. Viper look at Jackie, and ask him to see if what she said is true. Viper: Jackie, is she telling the truth. Is she really, Thomas niece. Jackie Chan: I don’t know, I know most of Thomas family members, but I don’t remember mention about having a niece. Elizabeth Redfield: of course my uncle won’t know about us, especially when our mother told us to never mention of how we are. Carmen Pondiego: if your mother told you to never mention of who you are, why you still telling us? Elizabeth Redfield: because none of you going to leave here alive *she search through her coat pocket, and grab a blaster. Then aim it at them* Carmen Pondiego: really now, I thought you plan to defeat me with your skills, but I guess I was wrong to think you’re a professional thief. Elizabeth Redfield: I don’t care what you think of me. I got what I came for, and that all I care about. Jackie Chan: come now, Elizabeth, you don’t need to do this. If what you said that your Thomas niece, do you think he be proud of what you’re doing? Elizabeth Redfield: …. No he wouldn’t. I never really met him in person, but my mother always talk about him, like he was the most important person in the world. For years, K-9 and I been wanting to meet him but no matter how much we tried, being the daughter that nearly cause trouble towards the family, isn’t the good reputation to have on your shoulder. Carmen Pondiego: no family isn’t perfect, Elizabeth. I have an older daughter who still upset that I still for a living, but still don’t understand why I do it for. I can see that you only doing this, is because you are trying to draw out your uncle to see you, so you can tell him that you actually exist. Elizabeth pause for a moment, after hearing those words from Carmen. She know what, Carmen said are true, all these things she doing was nothing more, but gaining the attention from an uncle that doesn’t know her yet. Elizabeth sister K-9 finally got up from the floor, trying to see what going. When she saw Carmen in front of her, which give her a chance to attack. K-9 stop in her track, when Elizabeth call her name out. Elizabeth Redfield: stand down k-9! We are done here. K-9: what! Don’t tell me we aren’t going to attack them? Elizabeth Redfield: sigh, I’m sorry K-9, even though it temping to attack them, but part of me would feel ashamed if I dare harm our uncle friends. K-9: true, but what about the Dragon Ball, aren’t we still plan to steal it for our mom. If we don’t take it with us, everything we did was for nothing. Elizabeth Redfield: your right, K-9, this very Dragon Ball is the key reason why our mother show any care for us. Raise us to be nothing more than her pawns to steal things. But not anymore. Elizabeth walk towards the direction where, Carmen Pondiego was standing. She stood in front of her, glaring at her rival. Carmen wasn’t sure what, Elizabeth was up to, until she saw her hand over the Dragon Ball. Everyone in the room were a bit confuse of what going on, but Carmen understood what, Elizabeth had done. Elizabeth took a deep breath, and then walk away from Carmen, not saying a single word. Once she reach K-9 side, she tell her to grab her bag from the table, and tell her that they were going to leave. K-9 did what she said, and grab the bag from Jackie desk, and hand it back to her. Before they left, Elizabeth look back to Jackie, and Viper, then apology to them for everything. Elizabeth Redfield: Mr. Chan, and Viper, I do apology for tricking you, in order to gain access for the Dragon Ball, and drawn in my rival. Jackie Chan: it no problem, but what about the fund, and the research that my team are doing. Elizabeth Redfield: the funds, and research are real. I may be a thief, but I do respect on persevering all ancient artifact, and place them in the museum. I do hope we can continue to work together in the future, Mr. Chan. I do like to know you, and your family better. As for you, Carmen Carmen Pondiego: I know what your going to say. You going to keep an eye on me, and hope we can be friends. Elizabeth Redfield: I was going to say thank you for the kind words, but now I just going to say tread carefuly K-9: yeah, because I’m keeping an eye on you for tricking me like that. Elizabeth Redfield: oh don’t worry sweety. I got a lot more tricks to show you. I might bring you some dog biscits if you like. K-9 nearly lose her cool, and want to go after her, but Elizabeth grab her by the collar, and pull her away. Once they were gone, Jackie and Viper were happy that was all over. Carmen on the hand was happy to gain one of the Dragon Ball she was looking for, and she didn’t need to do that much. She look at Viper, and wanted to thank her for the help, but she was caught off guard, when Jackie was asking to see what going on. Jackie Chan: alright you two. You guys best tell me the truth, and don’t try to lie about it. Carmen Pondiego: whatever do you mean, Jackie? Jackie: don’t play dumb with me, Carmen. I know you’re a thief, and the only reason of you being here, is to steal the Dragon Ball. So if you either hand it over, or I will call the authorities Viper: hold on a second, Jackie. Can you just let her go, and call it a day? Jackie Chan: what! But, Viper I can’t just let her go like that. She have one of the Dragon Ball, and it belong in the museum. Viper: true, and she also the one that saved our lives. Carmen Pondiego: she got a point there, Jackie. I did my best to save both your lives, so you kind of owe me. Jackie Chan: you got to be kidding me. Viper: please Jackie, do it for me It took, Jackie a moment to think about it, but then decided he was going to let her go. Jackie Chan: alright fine, you can go Carmen. But you had to promise not to steal anything else once you leave here. Carmen Pondiego: no problem, Jackie. I be leaving here with the Dragon Ball. But first, I had to look for my friend of mine. M normally never let his guard down, but he might be occupied looking at something that catch his eyes. Oh I nearly forgot one thing. Congratulation to you both. I knew you guys would be a great couple. Both of them blush a little, not sure what to say next. Viper already know what to do, and gave Jackie a kiss on the cheek. Happy to be with his future husband. Jackie smile back to her, knowing that his life is perfect with her by his side. As for Carmen, she leave the two love birds, and go on her way. That was Uncle Ancient Wisdom Special Guest Carme Pondiego: @ask-carmenpondiego

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wardencommanderrodimiss · 6 years

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Chapter 18: Klavier and Phoenix both know weird people, and Apollo is always suffering for it. also, there is the inescapable passage of time.

[Beginning] [Chapter Masterlist] [ao3]

In four successive days, Apollo spots crows following him on six different occasions.

The first is sitting at the kitchen window the morning after his conversation with Klavier. It watches him with a critical eye, and remembering that he has the magatama sitting on his dresser needing to be returned to Phoenix today, he goes to get it. Just out of curiosity, really; but the crow is gone when he gets back.

He counts as part of that same occasion the crows digging around in the dumpsters around back of the office when he arrives. After Klavier mentioned a witch and a crow hanging around bothering him, he doesn’t think he won’t be able to notice crows, but the trash seems like normal crow behavior. He knows they’re smart, but there was something very uncomfortable about the staring of the one earlier. He doesn’t bother with the magatama in his pocket.

Even though Phoenix did imply that he did want Apollo to go chase down Klavier, he doesn’t know whether that was supposed to be in the middle of a Thursday, without preamble, and not asking to take the magatama on the way out. Biking over, he prepared excuses. Phoenix enters the office around 10 am and Apollo, offering the magatama, cannot even get through “Sorry—” before Phoenix cuts him off.

“No worries. How’s Klavier doing?” Phoenix flips the magatama over in his hand the way Trucy sometimes spins playing cards.

“Not good,” Apollo says, because he simply wasn’t, “but I don’t think going for ‘spiraling off a cliff’, either.”

“That’s good to hear.” Phoenix is still fiddling with the magatama. “If you can, keep an eye on him still, would you?”

“Uh,” Apollo says. “Yeah, okay?”

Trucy shows up in the afternoon, her arrival heralded by her outside yelling, “Stop eating trash! You’re better than this!” and Apollo counts that as Crow Encounter 1.5.

The second is in the building lobby when he and Clay head out grocery shopping over the weekend. All three of them freeze and stare at each other. “You see it, right?” Apollo asks. Clay nods.

Apollo holds the door open for it on the way out and it squawks at him.

The third is at the kitchen window again that evening, every time he looks. He doesn’t have a magatama this time, can’t do anything but glare back at it. It flies away, croaking loudly, when he brandishes a barbecue wing (Clay ordered them and invited Mr Starbuck over to watch hockey) at it. He doesn’t answer the two of them when they ask what he’s laughing at when he returns to the living room, not really wanting to talk about witches right then.

By the fourth, he’s figured out how to distinguish one of them. If there are several together, if he looks closely, one of them looks almost blue – a dark, glossy navy blue, but still blue – compared to any other. There’s no apparent pattern in the next crow sightings whether the bluish one is there or not. After the sixth, when it is there on a bench in People Park and doesn’t fly away when he and Trucy and Vera approach to eat, but instead just hops around his feet, he offers it an egg and gives up both on counting and on pattern-searching. That one is probably the familiar, he thinks, harassing Apollo whenever it can be spared from its work – though what use a bird is to a prosecutor, he has no idea.

The crows, he doesn’t mention to Klavier. He’s not sure if he should say something like “you should go say hi to your witch coworker so that I stop being stalked by birds as your one apparent human contact” when, since having seen each other in person, since that last thanks, their texts have not strayed from light, stupid remarks. Klavier complains about Vongole’s shenanigans (having apparently not yet hellhound-proofed his fridge) or passes along the weirdest out-of-context statements he hears in the halls (if that implies that he has rejoined office social life, Apollo doesn’t know); Apollo relays Trucy’s best and worst jokes or sends a snapshot of Vera’s latest painting. Phoenix catches him texting and asks, every time, if it’s Klavier. He does this every two days, then every three; then every week, like he’s willing to lengthen the leash with the consistency of the knowledge that – Klavier is alive? It’s a bleak thought, that Phoenix might be expecting otherwise.

October slips into November. The office gets colder; more blankets manifest on top of bookshelves and on desks and chairs and are thrown at Apollo’s head. He’s almost grown used to Phoenix’s constant presence, is used to, to the point of sometimes forgetting, Vera’s. Trucy starts a Youtube channel and makes getting work done in the afternoons difficult recording videos of little sleight-of-hand magic tricks, drags the wifi to a crawl uploading them. She records a cover of My Boyfriend is the Prosecution’s Witness, and then another one where she changes all the pronouns, and Apollo sends both to Klavier. She doesn’t talk much about fae magic anymore, tries to get Apollo into professional wrestling, and sometimes he pretends he didn’t see her sitting at Phoenix’s desk with the mitamah cradled in her hands. Vera tries to paint her nails in the office once and Phoenix gags on the smell. He asks Apollo what he’s been talking to Klavier about lately.

Toward the end of November, Apollo is alone at the office, reorganizing some paperwork for the little cases he’s managed to pick up, when he hears the front office door loudly creak open and someone yell, “‘Sup, Mia! Eyyo, Niii-iick!”

Apollo pokes his head out, not sure what or who he will find, and certainly not expecting a man wearing red skinny jeans and a blazer jacket so orange that Apollo feels compelled to tell him that Halloween was last month. The beret doesn’t really help the costume effect. “Hello?” Apollo calls. “Do you need something?”

(He’s learned from Iris’ warning.)

“You must be Apollo! Nick’s told me about you, like, once, but he’s pretty shit about keeping everyone up-to-date, so I figure that’s good. Is he around or am I gonna have to camp out here until he finds his way back?” The man wanders in past the couches to examine Vera’s smaller paintings propped up on the piano. “Ooh, nice.”

“Um, who are you?” Apollo asks.

“He hasn’t told you about me?” Apollo shakes his head. “‘Course he hasn’t. Nick’s useless. The name’s Laurice Deauxnim, call me Larry. Everyone does, except everyone who doesn’t.” He extends a hand and Apollo stares stupidly at him for a few seconds before he realizes that he should shake it. “Nick didn’t tell you I’d be coming around?” Apollo shakes his head again. “Seriously, Nick, c’mon.” Larry turns his eyes to the ceiling and spreads his hands wide. “Useless, am I right?” he entreats the ceiling, or maybe Mia, considering that he had mentioned her name on arrival. He must know Phoenix well, to know her. “Anyway, I’m an author-artist, I was off on a book tour-new inspiration tour-vacation kinda thing when he talked to me about your changeling friend, but now I am back, baby.”

A pillow hits Larry in the face, and not softly lobbed the way blankets hit Apollo or Trucy, but like it came straight from an air cannon.

“Uh,” Apollo says.

Larry tosses it back at the couch. “Good talk, Mia.”

“I have no idea when either Mr Wright or Vera are going to get here,” Apollo says. If he thinks back, he can remember Phoenix saying that there was someone he had to introduce Vera to – but he can’t imagine this man, orange and red to Vera’s blues and purples, in any way having any way to relate to her. He can imagine Vera retreating back somewhere into the kitchen and not coming back out. He also can imagine purgatory, which is what waiting around for Phoenix in the same office space as this man will be. Iris may have been cryptic and terrifying, but she was quiet.

It’s about ten minutes of some chatter that Apollo tunes out, Larry examining Vera’s paintings and brushes and talking probably mostly to himself, occasionally looking to Apollo like he expects a response he doesn’t get. They both turn expectantly to the door as it opens, and Trucy wanders in with some boxes of Eldoon’s stacked high. “Uncle Larry!” she yelps. “You’re here!”

Uncle, huh. The last one of those was Valant, and this Larry seems to be at least at that level of eccentric, but on Phoenix’s side, not Zak’s.

“Sure am, kiddo! Where’s your dad? He still sleeping, or he finally quit that stupid club?”

“Yeah, he just didn’t go back after the murder trial,” Trucy says. Her smile takes on a bit of a plastic quality as she says the last three words. Who else knows about her father’s murder, who outside of that courtroom; who has she or Phoenix told? “He’s really bad at keeping people up-to-date, huh?”

Larry looks at Apollo and says, “It took him four months to tell me he had a daughter, y’know? And we live in the same city!” Trucy giggles.

Apollo wonders if Larry was ever told that Trucy was adopted. Somehow, he wouldn’t put it past Phoenix.

“Trucy, what exactly is your school schedule?” Apollo asks. He gets the same answer every time, but he still feels obligated to ask, if her father won’t seem to.

“Don’t worry about it,” she says.

“Oof, don’t let Edgy hear that.” Larry rescues Trucy from beneath the noodles and puts them on the coffee table. “Y’know you’re in for another five-hour lecture about ‘the importance of education’” – he throws his voice to some weird accent that sounds nothing like anything and makes Trucy laugh harder – “and how ‘you don’t want to end up like some certain particular orange man who’—”

“You’re not a good example for the perils of flunking high school,” Trucy says brightly. Apollo has a sudden parental urge to ask her what her report card looks like. “You’ve turned out fine, Uncle Larry!”

“It’s all sheer dumb luck and he knows it.” And there’s Phoenix, strolling in with his hands in his hoodie pockets like he knew exactly the timing of when to best appear to make the best joke. “Hey, how’s it going, you sorry bastard?”

Larry gasps in a comically dramatic way, clapping his hands over Trucy’s ears. “I’m fifteen, Uncle Larry,” Trucy says tiredly. “I know what swear words are.”

“Oh.” Larry removes his hands. “Right.” He stares at Phoenix with a glare that keeps turning halfway into a grin before he can fix it. “Well, dumbass, you wouldn’t have to ask how I’m doing if you’d pick up the phone once in a while! Edgy’s better about chatting with me! Edgy is!”

“Sure he is,” Phoenix says with a lazy wave of his hand. “He’s not the one who the fae have banned from getting a new phone that texts faster than a brick.”

“So you two are old friends?” Apollo asks.

Larry gives him a thumbs-up. “Right in one,” Phoenix says.

“Yeah,” Apollo says, “that’s kinda how I greet my best friend, so.”

The three of them chatter over each other, chaotic snippets of conversation burying themselves beneath each other and beneath the weight of obvious years that Apollo is not privy to. Trucy is scolding Larry for forgetting how old she is, and Larry is saying that he just doesn’t have the brains to keep track of the ages of all his friends’ daughters’ cousins’ in-laws, and Phoenix is telling him that he unlike some people doesn’t even have that expected of him and still can’t manage friends’ daughters, and then Trucy has her laptop from somewhere and is pulling up her Youtube channel, and her hat is hovering in midair obviously balanced on her wisp, and Larry elbows Phoenix into a bookshelf.

It’s weird – it’s far more than weird – to see Phoenix on that level of familiarity with someone. With Iris, the history between them, obviously deep, was obviously a gulf that they weren’t trying to, or couldn’t, bridge. But today, Apollo thinks he almost sees a hint of the man Phoenix was before, and not just before the disbarment.

He can’t exactly get away from them; the filing cabinet is in the back room where they settle, Larry lounging in Phoenix’s desk chair with his feet up on the desk, Phoenix sitting on the desk, and Trucy bouncing about all over. He listens to some gossip about mutual friends of theirs – which includes Prosecutor Edgeworth, somehow – and Larry’s career, learning that he’s a picture book writer and artist. A quick search of his name, on Apollo’s fourth stab at how to spell that surname, turns up that he is probably about as successful and well-off as a picture book writer can get. On his wikipedia page – personal life section incredibly short – there’s a note about a woman named Elise with the same surname, another author-illustrator, many less books under her belt, all more than seven years ago, and even less about who she was behind the books.

If Larry wasn’t a friend of Phoenix’s, Apollo wouldn’t think that anything about that was really a mystery. Some people prefer their private lives.

As it is, Apollo tries to dredge up anything from his memory of that month-old aside. It was the same day as his conversation with Klavier, which pushed just about everything else out of his head and didn’t let it back in. “Are you the friend whose mentor was one of the fae?” Apollo asks at the closest thing to a lull in the conversation; Trucy is laughing while Phoenix and Larry glare at each other in mock anger about a joke Apollo didn’t catch, off a discussion about shapeshifters. (Apollo desperately doesn’t and wants to know more about what they know about shapeshifters. It’s the way he feels about most new magic concept. He hasn’t braved asking Trucy more about kitsunes.)

“That’s me,” Larry says. “Unless you’ve made other unfortunate artist friends while I’m not looking, and that’s unlikely, since the only friend you’ve made in the last seven years was a mortal enemy.”

“Look at you,” Phoenix says dryly. “You’ve learned how to use logic, even though I have made friends, thanks.”

“You haven’t told me about any new friends, either,” Trucy says, pouting.

Larry pantomimes stabbing Phoenix in the leg with a pencil. “Anyway yeah,” he says, still gesturing with the pencil but now like he’s a professor lecturing with an imaginary blackboard, pointing to concepts visible only in his mind. “That’s me. Her name was Elise, or at least that’s the name she went by at the end.” He is quiet for a few seconds. “I found her art at a low point in my life, which I guess that low point was ‘most of my twenties’, there Nick I said it before you could, and was so inspired that I reached out to her and I worked with her up until she died.”

“You forgot that the ‘worked with her’ part involved swearing your apparent ‘undying fealty’ to her teachings and ‘everything she could provide you’,” Phoenix says, making a few quotes with his fingers, again with that deep dryness to his voice, not quite sarcastic but plainly amused. “Which – Apollo, tell me the problem of using that phrasing to one of the fae?”

“Everything?”

“Yes,” Phoenix says.

“Shush, Nick,” Larry says.

“I haven’t heard this one,” Trucy says. She perches herself on Apollo’s desk and puts her chin in her hands.

Larry groans. Phoenix’s expression is positively gleeful. “So he’s talking to her about learning painting and publishing from her, in his overdramatic exaggerated way that he says everything,” he says, more animated in his manner of speech than he has ever been before, “and she’s hearing from that ‘oh, he wants to gain magic from me’ and that’s one way how you can accidentally become a witch.”

Does Phoenix know anyone whose life isn’t a fae nightmare? “They don’t make you draw up a meticulous contract beforehand?” Apollo asks.

“They hold the cards in that setup – if you, human, the one at risk, don’t ask, I can’t imagine many would suggest it.” Phoenix snatches the pencil out of Larry’s hand. “Again, sheer dumb luck for it to turn out all right. Be careful swearing oaths to people – you might end up bound and magic for it.”

“I’ll keep that under advisement,” Apollo says, and Phoenix nods like he has imparted some sort of sage wisdom instead of saying something that should, by every right, be obvious.

He isn’t around for wherever and whenever Phoenix introduces Vera to Larry. Their conversation about her assuages some of Apollo’s fears about Larry’s exuberance; Phoenix becomes a human thesaurus but only for the words “sheltered”, “quiet”, and “shy”. “Sorta like Pearls was when we first met her,” Phoenix says, another glimpse of their depth of history, and Apollo wonders about who this girl is before Phoenix adds, “Except Vera grew up here, and Pearls on the other side of the veil.”

Ah. One of the fae. Go figure. How many of them does Phoenix know, anyway, and how is he not dead from it all yet?

Over the next week, Vera’s art supplies begin a slow migration out of the office. She leaves some pencils and sketchbooks around, shows up whenever Larry is meeting with his agent – apparently he hasn’t been home in a while, has a lot to catch up on, drags Phoenix along to anything dealing with a contract while they argue about something pro-bono a decade ago that Phoenix is trying to collect on. Apollo and Trucy leave the office that Friday evening, leaving Vera the only one there, her head in her sketchbook, not even looking up to tell them that she has found the zone and she doesn’t need them to wait around to walk her home.

“I’m so proud of her,” Trucy says, skipping down the sidewalk beneath the spotted streetlights. “She’s come so far since we met her!”

“She’s older than you,” Apollo reminds her.

“That doesn’t mean I can’t be proud of her,” Trucy says. “I’m proud of you when you win a case. I’m proud of Daddy that he’s getting his life back together. And I’m proud of Vera for how she’s doing with everything she found out about herself and her family.”

“And how are you doing with everything about you and yours?” He hasn’t asked her, because she has never drawn close to it, seems to have chosen pretending nothing is wrong as her coping mechanism, which Apollo understands. He’s tried forceful repression and almost succeeded at it. He can’t blame her for not wanting to face all that is behind her. But it seems like a better time than any, the distance of nearly a month and a half, and in the dark Trucy doesn’t have to look at him, doesn’t have to work to hide her facial expressions from him.

After a short delay, her face turned from him under the lights, Trucy says quietly, “Mia had some old grimoires. Daddy’s up late reading all of them, looking for stuff about mitamahs. He wants to help, he always wants to help, but he’s so busy, he’s got court stuff and Court stuff and he was talking about taking the Bar again and now this and I wish sometimes for his sake that we hadn’t ever gone and found any of it at all.” Even in the dark, he sees her shadowy figure slump. “And I wanted to be magic like my grandfather and now I don’t know what to be, but I do know I’m a Wright, and Wrights don’t run from the truth even when it hurts or just kinda sucks.”

In spite of himself, Apollo laughs, and Trucy does too. “Your dad has a real way with words,” he tells her, and she laughs again. “But I mean – if you want to learn about magic, you can learn about magic. It doesn’t have to be like anyone else. You can be magic like you.”

(Like Apollo is a defense attorney not like Dhurke, but like Apollo, and he wants to tell her he understands but like every time before, he doesn’t allow himself to form the words.)

“I guess,” she says. “I guess I can.”

His Saturday plans to sleep in and stay in bed for longer end with his phone’s incessant buzzing. 8:36 in the morning, and he is being called by the number that is saved in his phone as the Wright Anything Agency, the ancient desk phone that Apollo doesn’t know exactly how to make an outgoing call from. He’s not sure he’s ever taken a call on it, either; clients just seem to walk in or be handed to him, and he goes from there.

“Hello?”

Silence.

“Trucy,” Apollo says, “this isn’t really funny.”

He hangs up and plants his face back into his pillow.

Buzz buzz buzz.

Wright Anything Agency.

“Trucy—”

At the loud burst of static, Apollo tries to jerk away from the phone in his hand, rolling halfway out of bed in the process. “What the hell,” he says, at some distance to the phone with no idea of whether he can be heard. “Can we not do something weird for one weekend?”

Again, he hangs up, but this time he does not move. His phone barely has time to return to its lock screen before there is a third incoming call from the same source.

He puts it to his ear and waits. The static is back, soft enough to listen to. Its hiss isn’t constant but has peaks and valleys like a hum, like a whisper, like if he just listens hard enough he would swear that it has the same pulse and rhythm as speech. Blinking at the wall behind his bed, he cautiously asks, “Mia?”

The crackle in response is loud, but not painfully. If he had to classify it as anything, it seems like an affirmation, not the scolding of the static of the second call. “Okay,” he says. “You win.”

He hangs up, waiting for a fourth call to chase him down, and it doesn’t.

“Dude.” Clay slumps into the kitchen, yawning, to take in Apollo dressed in a t-shirt and jeans and shoving a granola bar into his mouth. “Where are you going?”

“I’m getting crank-called by my office’s ghost and I’m presuming it’s for something important,” Apollo replies, through a mouthful of granola, and the words come out such a mess that he has to repeat them after he swallows. At Clay’s dead-eyed expression, he adds, “She’s a benevolent ghost, mostly, I think. Mr Wright said.”

“Yeah, call me if you want me to start looking into exorcisms,” Clay says. “Otherwise” – he throws a thumb over his shoulder – “I’m goin’ back to bed.”

In the gray morning, the streets are sparsely-populated and about as quiet as it gets, restless night over and day not quite begun. The office, when Apollo reaches it, pops the door open before he can even try the handle to see if, like every morning, it is unlocked for him. “Hello?” he calls. The room is empty. No one responds. “Who am I even looking for?” he mutters, and in response, the last of Vera’s paint cans rattle. “Vera?” The lights blink and a book falls, almost in slow-motion, from the shelf next to the far door. “Okay.”

How did he not notice Mia’s presence before Phoenix pointed it out? Had she left him alone to flounder before then? Had everything weird just faded into the background weirdness of his life? He opens the door. The lamp on his desk flickers on, a spotlight twisted to point at the bathroom door. In the quiet, the sound of soft sobbing reaches through the door. “Vera?” Apollo repeats.

Abruptly, the sobbing stops. “I’m fine,” she says, her voice raised as much as it possibly can be, soft as it is through the door. “You can go home.”

“You’re crying,” Apollo says. “I’m not going anywhere.” He slumps against the wall and slowly folds down to the floor. “I didn’t have any plans for today, anyway.”

“Please go home.” Vera’s voice emerges closer, from the crack along the wall. She might have moved, too. “You don’t need to see me.”

See her? There’s something he can work with. “What happened, Vera?”

A second passes, an audible sniff, and then several more seconds. “I don’t know how to go back,” she says, fainter again. The lock clicks open. Apollo scrambles to his feet as the door opens. His breath catches.

Something broke, and it isn’t just the cracks in the center of the mirror.

Vera doesn’t look like she was the one who opened the door. She sits on the floor, hugging her knees, and her fingers digging into her jeans are too long, ending in what looks like sharp bony claws. The skin on her hands and face is variegated, patchy, blue a few shades light than her hair and pale lilac mixed across each other like they were sprayed and splattered down onto a canvas. Her ears end in points and curve near their tips but are surprisingly short, ending at least an inch before the top of her head and instead hooking outward. It reminds Apollo a little of a bat. Her red eyes are a little too big for her face, blinking furiously, and she quickly reaches up to rub away the tear tracks down her cheeks. Apollo almost jumps forward, terrified by those claws going so close to her eyes, but he holds himself back and then realizes, with the iron ring on his hand, he would just make things worse. He shoves it down into the pocket of his jeans.

“Oh,” Apollo says.

Why did Mia call him and not Trucy? He’s no good at this.

“Mr Laurice told me all about his mentor.” Vera’s voice, now that she isn’t raising it through the door, drops to a raspy whisper. “And how he didn’t know what she looked like. He showed me a picture of her how she looked as human, but... “ She sniffs again. “I wondered what I look like. So last night I tried and…” Another, louder sniff, and then a sob that she doesn’t choke down. “I can’t go back. I’ve tried and tried and I... And I can’t go out like this.” She chews on the end of one of her thumb-claws and he can see several of her teeth end in long points like her ears and fingers. “People can’t see me like…”

“You’ve been here all night?” Vera nods. “Did you – did you have dinner?” She shakes her head. Apollo fails to conjure a memory of whether she had anything substantial for lunch or was absorbed in her work that early, too. “Okay, um, here’s what we’ll do.” He extends a hand to Vera. She stares at it for several seconds – maybe she can See some lingering effect of the ring – but accepts it and he helps her up off the floor. “I’m gonna call Trucy because she knows a little more about magic, and I’ll run out and get you something to eat, and we can all figure this out together, okay?” She nods. “Okay.”

He tries his best not to sound frantic when he explains the situation to Trucy. Can a glamour just go away, forever? Vera can’t go back to living like a shut-in, not like this, not when she’s been learning not to shy so far away from the world, not when she’s been introduced to a mentor who can do more for her than just let her hang out in a cramped Anything Agency. “I will be there in five minutes,” Trucy says, hanging up immediately after, not letting Apollo ask how she intends for that impossible timetable, since she said she was at home, to work.

Five minutes later, a void-portal opens near the bookshelf – Vera screams – and Trucy stumbles out with a makeup compact mirror in her hand, and Apollo wonders how he forgot about that Gramarye trick. “Got it the first time this time!” she announces proudly, holding the mirror aloft and then letting it fall from her fingers, slumping over as though exhausted. Her hair is tangled, obviously unbrushed, and she doesn’t even have her hat, probably having thrown on the clothes closest at hand, jean shorts and a baggy t-shirt and her white boots. She flings herself over the back of the couch and stays as she lands.

“You didn’t need to exhaust yourself to get here immediately,” Apollo says. Vera puts her face in her hands; maybe it would have been better for her to take longer to arrive, give Vera more time to accept that someone else was going to see her now too.

“I did.” Trucy rights herself and leans forward. “Vera!” She grins. “You’re so pretty!”

Vera moves her hands apart to look up at Trucy with one big red eye. “Those are such good colors for you! You look just like a pretty painting!”

That’s Trucy, good at this, and Apollo, only a comfort to someone who is a thousand times more willing to talk than Vera is. “I’ll go get you something to eat,” he says.

“Not Eldoon’s,” Trucy scolds, turning a frown and furrowed brow up at Apollo.

“I know, and I wouldn’t anyway. No one should have Eldoon’s at nine in the morning!”

Trucy’s expression tells him that she has definitely had Eldoon’s this early in the morning at least once before.

He makes a run to the source of their other dietary staple, Kitaki Bakery, instead. Mr Kitaki knows by now what the Anything Agency tend to get and doesn’t bat an eye when Apollo asks for whatever they have that is minimal salt. Halfway back through People Park, his thoughts bouncing between that first case and Vera’s situation now, he realizes that he and Trucy aren’t the only ones who could help with Vera’s situation.

Hey so, weird question about glamours Is it possible to like get it stuck and not be able to use it again

That doesn’t make any sense when he retreads after pressing send, so he tries again, stops walking to concentrate on whatever the hell he’s trying to convey. Context. Context would probably help.

Vera’s at the agency and she looks not human and she wants to change back and can’t and she’s freaked out Is it possible that she’s just stuck forever or is there some way to go back And how Trucy and I know nothing

He doesn’t know what rock star prosecutors do with their Saturday mornings – it probably depends on what they do with their Friday nights, and Apollo has no clue about that either – but the message is out there, if Klavier is awake to help.

Maybe that’s why Mia called Apollo.

The TV blares the opening theme of the Steel Samurai on Apollo’s return to the agency. Vera, still blue and purple and fae, at least no longer hides her face, and Trucy flings herself into the couch next to Vera. “We’ve got a game plan,” Trucy announces. Apollo hands her the pastry boxes. “Chill out, eat food, relax, and maybe it works better when not stressed.” She pats Vera’s hand, apparently unfazed by her claws. “We’ll just have a chill day in today!”

“I’m sorry,” Vera whispers. “I know you both had better things to do.”

Trucy looks at Apollo. Apollo looks to the ceiling. “Nope,” Trucy says.

“Not really,” Apollo agrees. “You should’ve called, Vera – called last night, especially, really.”

She ducks her head. Her ears more a little, flaring out and moving down. “I didn’t want to be a bother,” she says. “Since I said I would be okay… And then you were all home again, and I would call you back…”

“You’re not a bother, Vera! You’re family!” Trucy grins at her and squeezes her hand. Then the smile falls off her face. “Wait, Polly, Vera didn’t call at all? How did you know…?”

Vera blinks at him, her big eyes making her resemble some sort of owl, if owls had demonic red eyes. “I got a series of calls from the office phone,” Apollo says. “No voice on the other end. I think it was Mia.”

“Oh,” Trucy says, sinking back into the couch. “I bet it was, too.” They watch the Evil Magistrate make a long villainous speech before he flees, and then Trucy adds, “I always wish I could’ve known her while she was alive. ‘Cause I always think I do know her, and then I think – do I, really? How do you get to know someone from her ghost? And why wasn’t I allowed to know her? Why’d some stupid bastard who thought he was hot shit take that away from us?”

The office is silent until the next episode starts and Trucy launches into a story about how Phoenix defended the original Steel Samurai actor. It seems like a diversion, a distraction, from the way the air hangs heavy after Trucy’s outburst, the way the audio from the TV sounds thinner and hollow. He doesn’t mind it. Vera listens to her unblinking, hypnotized, though it is impossible to tell where exactly her eyes are focused, on Trucy or on the television; there is barely a change in the hue of her eyes where the light hits them, no apparent pupils in her ping-pong ball eyes.

They make it through that episode and half of the next, Apollo still puzzling over the apparent circles of people that Phoenix knows, and all jolt at the sound of knocking on the door. Phoenix doesn’t knock, and it’s still barely 9:30 on a Saturday morning. Is the agency properly open on weekends? What are its hours? Apollo has never had a clear idea. The three of them sit frozen for several more seconds, time enough for the knocking to start again. Trucy vaults the back of the couch. “Coming!” she calls, smoothing down some flyaway hairs and yanking the door open. “Oh! Prosecutor Gavin! Hi!”

If Apollo is surprised – and he is, frozen in place and staring in confusion at the back of Trucy’s head as she continues to frantically comb flat her hair – then Trucy, who has no idea that Apollo contacted him, must be shocked as all hell. He checks his phone to see if he hadn’t missed a text in response, some advance warning, finding nothing. He just showed up.

Something thumps to the floor. Apollo finally turns his head. Vera flees over the back of the other couch, landing heavily and slamming the door to the other room hard enough to shake the coffee table. “Vera! Wait—!”

“I see I’m already not helping the situation,” Klavier says dryly. Apollo expects to see the tired-eyed man he last saw over a month ago – has it been that long? – and the plastic smile that paired with that bitter tone. But Apollo doesn’t have the magatama on him, and Klavier is Klavier, insufferably glamorous (in every sense of the word), and he’s grinning at them both with his spotlight smile, like even just in a t-shirt and jeans with his hair pulled back low, he should only be at home on the stage.

Apollo hates him again, though he can appreciate that he isn’t wearing that stupid necklace.

“You could have just… texted back.” Apollo scrambles to his feet as Klavier enters the office, as out-of-place as he was the first time he dropped by. “Or – or just called if it was too much to write—”

“Oh,” Trucy says. “You texted him? That explains – anyway, ignore him, Prosecutor Gavin.” She pats Klavier’s arm. “I’m glad to see you.”

“I could hardly ignore a distressed damsel, ja?” Klavier asks. “And besides, I haven’t seen my favorite Fraülein Magician in a hot second.”

“Vera tried to hide from me too when I showed up,” Trucy says, trailing behind Klavier as they pick their way through the usual office mess. “It’s not just you. And she—”

Klavier yelps and jerks his hand away from the doorknob. Still at some distance to it, Apollo can feel the cold radiating from the metal, an unequivocal warning. If it’s Mia not letting them in, she must have reason; there must be something—

“Your rings,” Apollo says.

“Huh?” Trucy asks.

“Prosecutor Gavin – those are iron, right? And Vera—”

Klavier’s eyes widen. “Ah,” he says, immediately plucking them off of his fingers. “Of course.”

“What happens?” Trucy asks. Klavier, reaching for the door again, a little more hesitant than before, freezes. “Like is it like magnets that it just repels, or…?”

“Like most magic, it depends.” Klavier’s eyes have a vacant, absent look, one that glamour can’t hide. “The scar on Kris’ hand, though – that was iron. I don’t suppose he ever forgave me for it.”

He obviously braces himself before touching the doorknob again, shoulders slumping with relief when nothing happens. “Vera!” Trucy calls, ducking in under Klavier’s arm. “It’s okay! None of us are mad at you, Vera!”

“I’m sorry for yelling at you in court,” Klavier says. “That was unbecoming of me, and you undeserving.”

The bathroom door is open, the kitchen door is nonexistent, and Vera’s voice rises up from somewhere in the room. “I did deserve it,” she says. Trucy makes a beeline for Phoenix’s desk. “You can be mad at me. It’s okay. I screwed everything up, and I’m just like your brother--”

“Nein, Fraülein, let me stop you there.” Klavier walks to the desk and leans against it, his back to Trucy attempting to drag Vera out from underneath. “The only thing you have in common with my brother is that you are both changelings, and I can hardly hold a grudge for that, ja? I do not fault Herr Forehead for being human when many heinous criminals I have prosecuted are also human.”

Apollo decides not to acknowledge that.

Her work done, Trucy hops up onto the desk. Vera stands there, her head ducked, her ears flattened out to the sides and drooping further. Klavier glances back over his shoulder and grins at her; unlike Apollo or even Trucy, he doesn’t have to hesitate a moment. He would have Seen her before, wouldn’t he? “There we go,” he says. “No need for pretty little Fraüleins to hide their pretty faces like that, ja?”

Vera lowers her head further, her eyes almost frantically avoiding Klavier’s, her clawed fingers tugging her hair down around her ears. It doesn’t help. “I would still rather look like me,” she says softly. “I want to be me again.”

Klavier sighs heavily. “Well, that’s the first part of your problem, Fraülein: this is you, much as anything else is.”

A soft sob escapes Vera’s throat. Apollo glares at Klavier. “Like I am Prosecutor Gavin and Klavier the rock star; I am not me if you cut away either. Everyone has different faces for the world at different times, ja? Yours and mine, Fraülein, are just a bit more literal than most.”

Vera sinks down into the desk chair, her hands spread out in front of her, the white hooked claws splayed apart. “I’m afraid I have no answer that will be like—” Klavier snaps his fingers. “I’m not very good at teaching magic, I’ve been told.” His knuckles pale on the hand that he doesn’t have in the air, tightly gripping the edge of the desk. “But I can promise you only more hurt in trying to bury half of yourself.”

“Turn your thinking around!” Trucy says brightly. Klavier looks relieved, probably that they aren’t going to dwell on what he said, read into it everything that is definitely there beneath the surface. “You’re not trying to – to change yourself or anything, just be a different self for the situation. Like how I’m not allowed to wear my top hat to school, or Polly – well, I guess Polly’s only got one face and it’s loud.”

“Hey!”

“There you go proving her point,” Klavier says with a smirk.

“Daddy says that magic is all about being sure,” Trucy continues, content to ignore that which she has sparked. “That if you don’t think you can, you won’t. So you can! I know you can!” She beams at Vera. She’s a good cheerleader; it’s part of what makes her such a good counsel in court. (The other part is that she’s smart as hell, but sometimes Apollo needs someone to believe in him when he doesn’t believe in him.)

Vera stares at her claws, visibly uncomfortable with the attention all on her. “Why didn’t my father tell me?” she asks. “I could have figured this out a long time ago.”

Apollo, thinking about someone else who wasn’t told, who also found out in a bad situation, fails to not look at Klavier, who glances away. Trucy turns to look at him as well. “There’s hardly a guide for how to raise a changeling, ja?” Klavier drums his fingers on the desk. “Perhaps he hoped to stop you from being torn in two like this. Perhaps he worried that once you knew, you would try some sort of dangerous magic. Perhaps he was afraid to face it, too. Who knows? I have wondered often myself, much as I know it is far too late to ask.”

Apollo thinks, if not quite that question, he and Trucy just as well have questions for their parents, far too late to ask them. And Trucy’s face falls, her eyes cast down toward her boots, undoubtedly thinking the same. There’s one other question Apollo has, one he could ask, one that isn’t too late, and doesn’t: why Klavier didn’t tell anyone what Vera was. Was he afraid to face it, for fear of facing that echo of his brother?

For several minutes, the only sound in the office is the faint rumble of the TV from the next room over. Trucy is the first to move; she doesn’t speak but instead gasps and smacks Apollo’s arm. “Vera!” she says, fortunately excited, not horrified or afraid. “Your hands, look!”

And she grabs one of Vera’s hands – still mottled like paint splashes, but purple and blue the whole way up her fingers, ending with silver nails and stubby human fingertips. “Good work, Fraülein!” Klavier says, leaning halfway over the desk to look. He grins at her, another one of his flashbulb smiles, and Apollo would swear that the skin on Vera’s cheeks, even the blue part, takes on a purpler tone. Is that how she blushes with this face?

“I thought glamour was just illusions,” Trucy says, still holding Vera’s hand and studying it like it is a piece of evidence. Vera for her part at least doesn’t seem to mind. “But like…” She taps the end of one of Vera’s fingers. “There’s obviously not an invisible claw here. So it’s like a kind of shapeshifting?”

“It’s magic, Fraülein,” Klavier says. “It is a glamour. I don’t know what to tell you.”

“I’m an artist,” Vera says softly. “Whatever face I have… I’m an artist. And I’m not trained to hold a brush with claws, so…” She shrugs. Trucy finally drops her hand. “They went away.”

Magic is about being sure, and if she’s sure of anything, it’s that.

Klavier offers her a high-five, which she accepts. “You’ve got it, Fraülein.”

“Just not…” She frowns. “The rest.”

“Ach, don’t doubt yourself now. I’ve no doubt before long you’ll be able to show off either of your lovely faces whenever you choose. And all without my poor advice.”

Vera starts to giggle and then hastily presses her hand over her mouth. “It helped,” she says.

They can’t hear the front door open, but it is apparent when the murmur from the TV is added to. Phoenix’s voice drifts in, half a conversation, starts and stops, and like no one else is with him. They all look to the door and Phoenix enters, phone in one hand, two heavy-looking leather-bound books balanced in his other arm. His eyes pass over the four of them, flashing blue and black, but his part of his conversation doesn’t falter. “Okay, but there’s absolutely no need to have a midlife crisis at seventeen,” he says. He drops the two tomes on Apollo’s desk.

“I did that,” Klavier says quietly. “Wouldn’t recommend it, either.”

Phoenix stands with his hand still on the books, shaking his head at whatever is being said on the other end of the line. He rolls his eyes. “Well first I’d take a breath, and then – no, they’re not going to discriminate based on your birthday, I know a kid – not really a kid anymore, she’d kick my ass if she heard that – who got her badge at thirteen so you are – take a breath, please.” He drags a hand down his face. “Yeah, words of wisdom still aren’t really my forte, so I’d hang up the phone and go study some more – yeah.” He laughs. “And I do kinda have to cut you off, sorry. Got some kids here in local time I gotta check up with.” His eyes flicker between colors at them again. “Of course there’ll still be room for you here. Just maybe not as much space as I thought a year ago. Talk to you later, kiddo. Right,” he says, shoving the phone into his pocket and spinning on his feet a little to properly face them all. “Someone wanna give me the opening statement?”

“Glamour’s stuck,” Trucy says.

“I panicked,” Vera says, sinking down a little further in the desk chair.

Phoenix nods. “It happens. Even some friends of mine, they’ve known their magic their entire lives – still, they get hurt or tired or hungry or upset, and they’ll end up stuck for a bit, too. Which – checklist.” He holds up two fingers and taps one for each question. “Have you eaten recently?” Vera nods. “Sleep okay last night?” She shakes her head. “That’s not gonna help, for sure.”

“I feel a little better now,” Vera says, staring down at her hands again. They are still clawless. “Trucy and Apollo helped. And Prosecutor Gavin too, a lot.”

“Good to hear.” Phoenix takes a few steps toward his desk and stops, raising his voice without turning his head. “Speaking of, Prosecutor Gavin could at least stand to say goodbye before he sneaks out.”

And Apollo turns his head and Klavier simply isn’t there any more. He made the joke – probably not a joke – about being seventeen and now Apollo scans the room and he is simply gone. Gone, and knowing the sensation to expect, Apollo can’t make his eyes focus on a space next to the door.

“You don’t have a magatama on you,” Klavier says. He doesn’t really reappear, like he was invisible and now isn’t. “How did you…?”

“I’m a father,” Phoenix says, “of a daughter with a will o’ the wisp that, when she was littler, she liked to use to distract me while she stole cookies out of the pantry.” Trucy’s face turns pink; Phoenix grins unrepentantly. “I know when you kids are trying to make me look somewhere else.”

“Ah,” Klavier says.

Phoenix waves over his shoulder. “Don’t be a stranger,” he says. “Door’s usually unlocked.”

Klavier nods once, wide-eyed, numbly, and he slips through the door.

“Still didn’t say goodbye,” Phoenix mutters.

“I don’t think he likes you very much,” Vera says quietly, staring intently down at her nails.

“No,” Phoenix says. “Not really. We’ll work on that, but you first, kiddo.” He claps a hand on Vera’s shoulder. “One worry at a time.”

“Daddy,” Trucy says sharply. She has gone to Apollo’s desk, paging through the thick volumes that Phoenix deposited there. “You said you were running errands when you left.”

“That was my plan,” he says, dragging his hand down his face, but nothing about his movements appears like a lie to Apollo. “Then I was handed possible new leads and got waylaid.”

Trucy’s frown deepens. “Daddy…”

It must be about the mitamah again, like Trucy said last night. “I’m not overworking myself, sweetheart, I promise,” Phoenix says.

And that isn’t a lie, either, not to Apollo’s eyes, but the dark shadows under Phoenix’s eyes still contest that truth. He can’t actually be managing just one worry at a time.

I’m pretty sure Mr Wright doesn’t hate you You didn’t have to run out like that

-Ah, you had all your agency people there -I didn’t want to impose

You’re like the least imposing visitor to ever show up here tbh Not like the fae woman who just showed up and then told me to watch my phrasing on how I ask clients if they need help

-the what

Yeah

-You’ll have to tell me about that sometime

#now i have to spend the rest of the day on schoolwork and i am not looking forward to it wooooo #fic: the seelie of kurain #roddy fanfics

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margarethelstone · 7 years

Text

It’s hard to stop worrying: Chapter II

“I don’t know, Tobes. It’s just strange to see the sun.” A week after his coming back from the Darklands, Jim still cannot fully readjust. With more unexpected things happening in Arcadia, the process proves to be even more challenging - although it might’ve been easier if Claire wasn’t acting so awfully indifferent.

previous chapter / next chapter

fanfiction.net / AO3

Chapter Two In which some things happen but it’s still not enough to call it a plot

She arrived at the class fifteen minutes late, an incident that had never occurred in all of her previous education. That obviously caused the whole class – Miss Janeth included – to stir with agitation, making it impossible for the girl to sneak in quietly and pretend that her lateness wasn’t as much of a deal as it seemed to be in everyone else’s eyes.

Before she’d come in, they all assumed she was either ill, or that she was excused from the lesson for some other valid reasons. When she stepped into the room, however, the group understood she was indeed late, and sadly, none of them bothered to hide the satisfaction they felt at the realization.

It was somehow nice to know that the Perfect Miss Nuñez wasn’t so perfect after all.

Claire tried to ignore the curious looks everybody was giving her, and having mumbled an excuse, she almost ran to her place in the back. It took a lot of her good will not to turn on her heel and leave the wretched classroom for good – but she knew that she was still not rebellious enough to do that. Stealing the Killerhead Bridge, deceiving the Troll Tribunal, walking into the Darklands… those were the things she could do; playing the drama queen at school was an entirely different level of foolishness.

She silently put her purse her lap, took out the necessary books and almost threw it on the floor.

“Hey.“ She heard someone whisper a moment later. She glanced to her right, and noticed Jim, who was grinning at her shyly. “Nice of you to show up.“

What a dork.

“Not now, Jim,“ she cut him off mercilessly, struggling to understand what their teacher, who finally decided to stop glaring at her, was talking about.

“Hey, easy,“ the boy answered, trying to think of a way in which he could ease her mind at least a little. “It’s not like I can afford much talking, either. I still haven’t covered those topics I missed and… well, she’s just started another one. The fourth, I think?”

“The fifth,” Claire corrected him.

“How did you even manage to cover so much so quickly? I was gone for two weeks, not a year.”

“Honestly, I feel like you covered more in the last fifteen minutes,“ the girl mumbled, shifting her gaze from her notebook to the teacher and the other way round. “Besides, didn’t you say you loved homework?”

“Oh, yeah, now that’s funny.”

“But seriously. This is insane.”

“I know. Although, if that makes you feel any better, I for once have pretty good notes of my own, so I’ll gladly share.”

“Wait, you mean you were actually listening to her?”

“Yup. That is, I had been until TP started to share his opinions about Janeth being a Changeling – but then she just started reprimanding us and obviously stopped explaining anything.”

Claire rolled her eyes but refrained from saying anything in response.

“Also, she spent about five minutes wondering on how it was possible for you not to show up in her class without any earlier information. She ended up asking each and every of us if we knew what had happened to you.”

The girl jerked up her head in a reflex action and sent her interlocutor a shocked, anxious look.

“Now you’re making this up,” she pleaded quietly, hoping against hope that she had misunderstood his words.

“Just exaggerating.” Jim’s grin widened a little, while his glare was fixed on the notebook before him in a poor attempt of making himself look devoted to the lesson. “But she was surprised.“

Claire groaned quietly.

“Why is it like this? You and Tobes come in late at least once a week and no one ever says a word. It happens to me once, and everyone is freaking out.“

“That’s the point. It’s normal for us, and it’s totally extraordinary for you.”

“This is not how -”

“Guys! Quiet!” they were silenced by Toby, who suddenly decided to join – or better said, kill– the conversation that was going on between them. “The she-devil has already scolded us today, and she won’t be any more understanding now! And you were supposed to be working, Jimbo!”

“Okay, okay,” Jim waved his hand at his nervous friend and got back to scribbling, making an inward promise that he would not let himself lose his focus again. He was quite determined to do that, and seeing how dedicated to her own catching up Claire was, he believed the task would not be so difficult to fulfil after all.

Which obviously didn’t mean he could help glancing at her every now and then, as if making sure she’d really made it to the lesson. Her absence had made him feel uncomfortable at least, especially with his acute imagination stubbornly suggesting the most pessimistic scenarios of her fate. Now she was there, right next to him, and he had to admit that the sight was simply relieving.

Claire peered sideways at him.

“Yes?” she asked innocently, making sure her voice would not be heard by anyone except them two. Her neighbour found himself blushing slightly when he realised his staring had been noticed, and that it was bad enough to make her respond with an actual question.

“Nothing,” he muttered and fixed his sight on the whiteboard, and yet, the smile on his face didn’t falter. “It’s just good to know you’re safe.”

Claire raised both of her eyebrows at him, unable to understand why her friend would say such a thing. True, they were living a life of constant suspiciousness, ready to meet worst of enemies at every minute of their crazy, teenage existence, but she still couldn’t find a reason why he’d assume that she was in any particular danger that day. Angor Rot was gone, the Killerhead Bridge was too, and unlike the Trollhunter, she was still pretty convinced that Gunmar had stayed in the Darklands and thus wasn’t a threat for the group. So why would he be worried?

Except of course, she had been late.

She still hadn’t got rid of the unpleasant feeling that had been accompanying her ever since that morning when she realised that this once, she would not make it on time. She knew she wouldn’t get away with it, not with her reputation of the most punctual girl in Arcadia Oaks High School. And in all honesty, Claire didn’t even care about her good name so much – but it was not her belatedness that was a problem. It was the fact that it truly was the very first time it happened.

Jim was right when he diagnosed the causes of the flurry between their classmates. Everyone loved novelties.

She knew it was a trifle, a little thing of no importance, and somehow, she still couldn’t get over it.

‘Like being late is the end of the world’, she mused angrily, absently following Miss Janeth’s movements as the latter was covering the whiteboard with more and more figures, blind to the fact that hardly anyone in class was paying attention to what she was trying to explain. ‘Worse things happened. Besides, I shouldn’t even be here in the first place -’

“Well, that’s what I thought, too. Not that I’m not enjoying the company,” Jim whispered unexpectedly, making her choke on her own saliva. She covered her mouth trying to calm down the cough that followed directly after. Jim frowned a little. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“What did you just say?” she hissed between the coughs.

“I said I don’t understand why you’re taking these classes. You passed algebra on the previous year, you weren’t here during last semester, and… You know, I was just wondering why. I have been since the winter break, actually. Tobes even started to make bets.”

“But why?”

“Because he’s a nerd?”

“No, why would you talk about it all of the sudden? Are you mindreading now or what?”

The boy turned to her for the first time for almost a quarter and looked at her in disbelief.

‘Mindreading?’

“Claire, you’re mumbling.”

“Mumbling?”

“Well, you know, speaking in a way that makes it impossible to understand and -”

“I know what mumbling is,” his interlocutor bridled and tightened her grip on her pencil. “But I don’t mumble.”

“Well, the facts prove something else.” Against his better judgement, Jim let a grin appear on his face once more. Little did he know that it would only make the girl less eager to agree; just like the words he was going to voice next. “Funny, though. Most people mumble because they turn their voice down. You do it because you turn your thoughts up loud.”

Claire gave him the coldest glare she could muster, now plunging the pencil into the desk; it broke, and she quickly turned away too look at the damage she’d caused.

“Anything else you’d like to add?” she answered edgily. She didn’t mean to snap at him like that, and she didn’t understand why his little jokes were affecting her so much – but they were, and as much as she regretted it, there wasn’t much she could do about it.

In the corner of her eye she saw Jim slouch a bit. He definitely was taken aback, and honestly, how could she blame him?

She sighed.

She just really wanted to go home.

“No,” her friend muttered under his breath a moment later. She wanted to turn to him, tell him she was sorry, and that he shouldn’t take her annoyance too seriously; he didn’t give her the time to do it, though, deciding to share one more thought. “I just wanted to say that you shouldn’t care about it so much. I promise you, in an hour they won’t even remember that you were late.”

“Won’t they?” she asked.

“No. Don’t get me wrong, but there are more exciting things to do in high school than wondering why one Claire Nuñez didn’t arrive on time for an algebra class she doesn’t even have to take.”

He glanced at her, and to her surprise, gave her another warm, reassuring smile.

Before Claire had managed to return it, his smile turned into a mischievous grin as Jim leaned towards her a little, and in a conspiratorial whisper, he added, “besides, at least you don’t have to worry about any formal consequences. Janeth adores you too much to even think of giving you a detention. But just imagine how much trouble Steve will be in when he meets her after missing her lesson like that.”

She rolled her eyes and got back to work.

The rest of the class passed in a perfect order, as both Jim and Claire resolved to make the most of the time they had left, and finally carried out their plans of staying focused on what Miss Janeth was telling them. The rest of the class weren’t too eager to cause any problems, either, so except a little chiding now and then, even Miss Janeth didn’t need to say more than the syllabus required.

The bell rang eventually, making the half asleep teenagers leap on their seats before hastily gathering their belongings and leaving the class at the highest speed they could allow. Jim was watching them in amusement while packing his own books; he didn’t feel the need to rush. Not when his pretty neighbour didn’t seem to be hurrying anywhere herself.

He zipped his bag and turned towards her.

“So, do you think you’ll need those notes after all?” he asked lightly.

“I think I’ll copy them from Darci. I’m kinda used to the way she makes them, so it will be easier for me to learn from them.”

“Oh, right.”

“I’m still impressed you’ve made any.” Claire laughed for the first time this morning, and nudged him playfully in the arm. “Wouldn’t that be like the first time ever?”

“Not exactly, but you’re close.”

“You’re hopeless.”

“Pretty much.”

She laughed again and slung her purse over her shoulder. She glanced at Toby, who was waiting for them near the exit. “You two should go. I need to talk to Miss Janeth about a few other things than being late, so it will take a while. I’ll catch up with you later.”

Jim wanted to protest, but she didn’t give him a chance. As soon as she finished the last sentence, she set off towards the teacher’s desk, leaving the slightly confused boy behind her. He followed her with his sight, smiling sheepishly, and if it hadn’t been for Toby, he probably would have stayed there until Claire would leave, too.

She had a point. He was hopeless.

Only school didn’t have much to do with that.

He felt a soft strike on his cheek when Toby, having lost his patience, threw a paper ball at him. He grabbed his bag and made his way to the door, sending Claire one more smile she couldn’t see. They still had a couple of classes coming, most of which all of them attended – and after that, they would all go to the Troll Market together, making their day as perfect as it could possibly be.

Why, if Claire knew that she wouldn’t be going anywhere.

#fanfiction #my writing #trollhunters #jlaire #jim lake jr #claire nuñez #toby domzalski

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sleepymarmot · 8 years

Text

DS9 season 4 liveblog

[Season index: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 PS]

The Way of the Warrior

they changed the music! I liked the original arrangement better. I guess they decided that if they have to change the opening titles, better redo them from scratch?

I love how the Klingon general dramatically cuts his hand. It's like looking at the origins of an ancient ritual which real and very important meaning has long been forgotten. Tbh I thought the crew would do the same in the previous episode, but they went for the less dramatic blood tests :D

How was the Obsidian Order destroyed? The Dominion destroyed the fleet that the Order wasn't even supposed to have. What about all of their normal agents, infrastructure, gathered intelligence?

"Not like you? Impossible" (note: as I prepare to publish this post, having just finished season 5, it seems this line was the last time they ever shared a flirty moment... rip garashir 1993-1995)

finally!

please stop reminding me about that awful movie thanks

Poor Worf is so awkward as usual

"And I find you offensive. Now hold up your arm, or I'll have the security do it for you"

"Captain Sisko bet me that you would thank him for the rescue before you started complaining." "I lost."

The Visitor

I have a hard time becoming invested in stories like this, when I know that the entire timeline would be undone by the end. The final scene did manage to make me tear up a bit, but overall I'm not impressed. At least it's not outright terrible like The Inner Light...

Hippocratic Oath

Wait, did Bashir get promoted between seasons?

I don't think that joke about Keiko was very good :\ But this is the second time Miles comes really close to confessing his love for Julian... what's up with that

seriously, why does the new theme have such a messy rhythm? it's as if the beat is out of sync with the melody

Odo is such an unusual security officer, of course there's conflict between him and Worf. I'm glad they're addressing this!

of course O'Brien does a transporter trick

oh come oooon O'Brien do you really need to be such a jerk this week

Sisko is nicer to Worf than I expected

the last scene between Bashir and O'Brien is very poignant

Indiscretion

The runabout scene with Kira and Dukat is unsettling because this rhetoric is too real...

The Worst Field Trip(tm)

Julian & Jadzia's Judging Corner: priceless

honestly the absolute last thing i expected was for Dukat's butt to get so much attention...

Ziyal looks much younger than someone who was 13yo six years ago

halfway through the episode I thought Ziyal would be that Cardassian girl from season 2, I mean there was a reason for that scene, right? right?

great episode

Rejoined

Oh, Dax got promoted too

Trill society sounds dumber and dumber with each episode

Kahn is so beautiful, charming and well-dressed. damn

how did my mom manage to walk into the room just as they kissed? is that a special parent talent

;_;

"your work produced the first artificially created wormhole in history" not counting, you know, THE wormhole

welp. a romance episode finally made me cry :(

Starship Down

Wait, is the alien played by Odo's actor?

this is like a really boring version of "Disaster"...

Dax knows Bashir now better than a year ago? He hasn't changed much over the past year, the difference is rather between seasons 1-2 and later ones, plus they seemed pretty good friends in season 1 already, not like "she was avoiding him" -- in fact, I thought she was his only friend at the time. Their body language is cute as hell though.

Damn, I could hardly keep track of the plot in this one... or why the characters were saying what they were saying... how dull

you know what was the selling point of The Disaster? characters in unusual combinations and roles! I see none of this here...

Little Green Men

ew using someone else's tooth sharpener

omg Odo! :D

what, Klingons and Vulcans didn't have warp drive by 20th century?

The Sword of Kahless

what, this was the little boy we saw in TNG? Klingon children sure grow fast...

is this sword telepathically infected or something?

So, when Worf was acting OOC he wasn't under outside influence? okay... I enjoyed this episode, but under the assumption that Worf's dishonorable actions would be explained

Our Man Bashir

Bashir's taste is about as lame as Picard's...

"I think I joined the wrong intelligence service"

"This is more than I ever wanted to know about your fantasy life" same tbh... it's enough to remember these gross tropes exist somewhere out there, I don't need them in Star Trek reenacted by my faves

This just made me remember how much I dislike James Bond... We just had a cheesy 20th century pastiche two episodes ago, but at least I don't have anything against that genre. Not to judge what people do behind the holosuite's closed doors, but it's pretty offputting to see a 24 century man so enamored with this sexist fiction. And I have pretty much the same reaction to kisses with not-Kira and not-Dax as in the Mirror Universe episode, though to a lesser degree; that was pretty gross and exploitative. It's as if someone decided that the show wasn't straight enough after Rejoined and decided to compensate...

Also I think this was the first time ever that Bashir wasn't happy to see Garak. It feels strange and sad...

I expected Garak to spend all episode making fun of silly tropes, but the little he said was pretty weak. Though I liked the confrontation in the end and the way Bashir repeated Garak's speech.

And I don't think they even took advantage of the J. B. initials. Come on! :D

Homefront

"I prefer Klingon beliefs. Our gods are dead. Ancient Klingon warriors slew them a millennia ago. They were more trouble than they were worth." I think I prefer Klingon beliefs too...

Why did Sisko put on TNG-type uniform?

Is that Leah Brahms?

Very relevant story about security vs civil rights, and it's very fitting for Odo to be here -- not just because of the plot. I really like the thematic unity between the changeling storyline and Odo's personal issues as a character.

Come on, it's so easy to deprive the entire planet of power?

Paradise Lost

This title is very ominous...

Cadet Shepard haha

I think I've heard this boast... "We have five million Cybermen. How many are you?" "Four." "You would destroy the Cybermen with four Daleks?" "We would destroy the Cybermen with one Dalek!"

So, Earth and DS9 can communicate in real time? But in the previous episode, DS9 "received a recording of a high level diplomatic conference that took place on Earth a few days ago". I assumed the delay was due to the distance, but apparently not -- was the recording just classified before someone decided to send it to Sisko?

Wait, what President's speech? Did I miss something?

I liked the first part better. So, the changeling terrorist attack on the same week was just a coincidence? Everyone seemed to forget about that...

Crossfire

Odo/Kira scene is cute instead of irritating for once

"You could hear that?" "*points to lobes* Hello?"

"I have reason to believe someone is planning to assassinate First Minister Shakaar" and by someone you mean Winn?

Odo and Worf discussing security and order!

are they replacing Odo/Kira/Bareil with Odo/Kira/Shakaar? How many nice but bland Bajoran dudes can be in love with her?

"Frankly, I don't care whether you and Major Kira end up living happily ever after or not. I just want to see the situation resolved" same

ok, I get it, falling in love makes you very upset, bad at your job, and is sad and frustrating to watch on tv screen. nothing new here

Return to Grace

"Is that what you kept track of during the occupation? No wonder you lost"

"It bothers him, you know. Very much. He talks about it sometimes" crocodile tears... literally

some men just won't take a hint...

wait, since it was previously mentioned that Cardassian flirting is bickering, does Dukat genuinely misinterpret Kira and think he's got a chance here??

so much for keeping Klingon secrets from the Cardassians...

There's something about this dynamic I really appreciate, but I can't yet articulate it. The way Kira confidently and unflinchingly deflects all the bullshit he sends her way? How she is allowed to be right in her unforgiving stance? That being civil and working together with someone and seeing their better side does not mean all their past (and present) misdeeds are forgotten and they're suddenly your friend? Maybe this is the infamous "grey morality" done right -- not the indiscriminate tolerance and moral relativism, but allowing the other side to plead their case without losing sight of what made them "the other side" in the first place.

Sons of Mogh

Jadzia has a great "I'm gonna fuck that" face

"Charged with murder?" Have these people never heard of assisted suicide?

"I don't give a damn about Klingon beliefs, rituals or custom" ohhh so when we talk about Bajoran religion we all have to be tolerant and culturally sensitive and understanding, but Klingons are not allowed to perform their own rituals among themselves?

Wait, did Kurn consent to this or?...

A second good Klingon episode in the season that is tainted by the heroes' inexplicable immoral decisions. Last time Mr. Honor attemped murder in the most dishonorable day possible; this time ritual assisted suicide was deemed outrageous but likely nonconsensual mindwipe is an acceptable solution. The former can be headcanoned away with the assumption that the sword had some curse on it. My headcanon for the latter: people other than Sisko wouldn't have objected to the ritual (Dax canonically, O'Brien was implied to), so they accepted Worf's other solution on the same grounds.

Bar Association

Haha, Odo brings up Rascals, one of TNG's most ridiculous security failures :D

"Have you have any idea how bored I used to get sitting in the Transporter room waiting for something to break down? Here, I've a half dozen new problems every day. This station needs me" Damn, I hoped he got to do something interesting that we just weren't shown...

Wait, O'Brien got into a physical fight with Worf of all people?!

"If this was Ferenginar, I'd have you all taken to the Spire of the Tower of Commerce, displayed to the crowds in the Great Marketplace below, then shoved off, one by one. Small children would bet on where you would land, and your spattered remains would be sold as feed mulch for gree-worms" lol remember Quark's little speech about Ferengi not being barbaric?

I really care about this messed up family...

Yaaaaay I'm so happy for Rom! :D

Ferenginar sounds no less oppressive than Cardassia. I want a revolution! You know what, now that the Dominion has kindly disposed of the Tal Shiar and the Obsidian Order, can it take the FCA next? I, for one, would welcome our new gelatinous overlords in this case...

(I'm not a fan of that Leeta/Bashir background noise, thank you very much.)

Accession

"Quark, did you hear? Chief O'Brien is having a baby!" "I thought your females carried your young."

people from the past should stay in the past... apparently only 50 years ago Bajor was a pretty oppressive place too...

"Maybe you never realised this, Captain, but we would've tried to do whatever you asked of us when you were Emissary, no matter how difficult it seemed" well that's creepy

oh come on Kira, don't follow your religion so blindly...

O'Brien and Bashir is the real love story of this show istg

oh god they have an untouchable caste too

and of course the aliens can't tell which is the true Emissary because the word "first" isn't in their vocabulary lol

The aliens say "First. Later. They have no meaning to us." -- and in the same conversation use grammatical tense to indicate the order of events: "This IS the one that WAS injured." "He WAS injured" "We KEPT him with us" "The Sisko TAUGHT us" -- so they must have some perception of time

"We are of Bajor" oh? since when do you even know that word? did the poet teach you?

these two are so awkward that poor Keiko has to play matchmaker for her own husband :D bless her

I'm not sure I'm comfortable with the direction of this story... Sisko was completely right to feel uncomfortable as a saint for a religion he doesn't believe in of planet he's not from, but it turned out he's so awesome that the Prophets chose him over the man from this culture who fits the descriptions in the sacred texts. Because only an enlightened human can lead the silly natives -- by following one of their own they'd go back to the dark ages! Yuck.

I've seen more than half of the show now... time flies fast.

Rules of Engagement

Courtroom episode!

I like the clever cinematography & editing

Hard Time

Poor O'Brien...

Well. This was really upsetting. I've been crying for several minutes now.

TNG repeatedly failed to show the recovery after a character's traumatic experience -- specifically, Picard's loss of time in The Inner Light and imprisonment and torture in Chain of Command. DS9 finally delivers an episode just about that -- even if the next week the status quo will be restored and I'll have the same complaint.

What Miles goes through is completely horrific -- so much that I can't imagine how one can survive that. Even as a viewer I want to wipe this from my memory and pretend it didn't happen... For my own peace of mind I'm gonna pretend O'Brien's friend was a part of the simulation, and later he managed to erase it all from his mind somehow.

Now I kinda want a story where the characters become self-aware and O'Brien decides to get away from his sadistic writers (and Bashir helps him, sacrificing their friendship for O'Brien's well-being).

Shattered Mirror

Always nice to see Worf's hair loose

Well, at least Dax is angry at Sisko for the rape by deception...

Why is Kira still wearing that shit...

at this rate you won't have any characters left for the next episode

The Muse

will this adult woman leave Jake alone

poor Sisko

Odo: "Actually, I have some free time and I was wondering if you wanted to take a walk." Worf: "I would." Odo: "I meant Lwaxana."

"Well, just don't go do what I did. Look for someone to fix your broken heart then end up pregnant and on the run." "I don't think there's too much danger of that happening."

aah Odo makes her a blanket! (well, I guess he owed her a night of sleep on his lap...) this entire scene was so sweet

eww not the pedo woman again

why must I watch this

Odo and Lwaxana playing hide-and-seek!!! this is the best thing ever

oh my god this is such a fanfic trope

ew can I just fast-forward through this?

"If you don't mind, this is a very special moment for me"

"You know, for a minute there, I really believed you wanted to marry me" ahh poor Odo's face :( even when he literally declares he wants someone in his life, that person thinks he didn't mean it...

aaaaaah! the goodbye scene!!! Lwaxana is so good! this is so significant and beautiful, this is Lwaxana recognizing and preventing her biggest negative trait/habit (pursiung and harassing disinterested men) with one of her more rarely shown positive traits (compassion and emotional intelligence)

i don’t know what to say about an episode where the main story is 0/10 but the side story is 10/10

For the Cause

Finally, some info on replicator sharing policy! "The Federation only gave Bajor two CFI [industrial] replicators”

"If she's really a Maquis, then she's no longer a Federation citizen" wait what?! I thought this was the entire reason Starfleet had to keep them in check -- because they were Federation outlaws! have they proclaimed their own state while I wasn't looking?

have they recast Ziyal? she looks different

I don't appreciate all this UST

"I would not become a terrorist. It would be dishonourable" "I wouldn't say that around Major Kira if I were you"

she... invites him... to a SAUNA??! ohhh my god whyyyyyy who wrote this

You go Kira!

okaaay I definitely missed something major about the Maquis formally leaving the Federation

well at least Cardassians enjoy their saunas fully dressed, that's a relief. the idea of lizard people lying around on heated rocks for relaxation is actually really cute, though

To be honest, I was dreading Garak's scenes in this episode. It seems that the writers ran out of Mysterious Past and Unclear Motivations to hint at, and stripped of that he's just... not particularly interesting. Plus, this episode confirmed my unpleasant impression that starting with this season, the producers/writers decided to forcibly drag Garak and Bashir away from each other and throw girls at them no matter how random and/or inappropriate it looks. At least they recast Ziyal so now she actually looks 19 instead of 13! (The problem is, in the previous episode she acted like a child, too, and you can't forget that she's a generation younger, so it's still pretty gross.)

Eddington's point about assimilation would have worked better without the rest of that inane speech. "Why is the Federation so obsessed with the Maquis? We've never harmed you" -- They're obsessed because you're a threat to their foreign relations, what's so hard to understand about that? "We've left the Federation" -- When? When?! Left Starfleet, sure, but the Federation?! Isn’t that the entire reason Starfleet is pursuing them -- because the Federation is responsible for handling its citizens and stopping them from committing crimes against its neighbor!?

To the Death

Iconians -- that's from "Contagion", right?

I like this guy...

"What is the point of doing battle if you cannot enjoy the fruits of victory?" "You mean sleep?" :D

I love how Whatshisname casually gives out the white, rolling his eyes and barely moving attention from his plate -- so different from the Jem'Hadar perspective we saw in Hippocratic Oath!

"I didn't know that was public knowledge." "You told Commander Dax." "Well, that explains it."

O'Brien's answer to the Jem'Hadar! "I am Chief Miles Edward O'Brien. I'm very much alive and I intend to stay that way"

The Quickening

bwahaha

whoa, a city? if it the first one we've seen in the Gamma Quadrant? lovely matte painting

of course they make everything worse. Because being Culturally Advanced and Civilized won't always instantly solve any problem, and hospices and euthanasia aren't evil.

"I was so arrogant I thought I could find one in a week." "Maybe it was arrogant to think that. But it's even more arrogant to think there isn't a cure just because you couldn't find it." Good one, Dax! We're really going back to the pivotal traits of his character in this episode. (Someone on the writing staff: "Hmm, we haven't mentioned Julian's arrogance and hero/savior complex for a couple of months...")

He swallows his pride and decides to stay! I'm proud

I did have a suspicion that the pregnancy would solve everything...

I'm really glad the local doctor wasn't villainized! When Bashir was setting up his clinic I was afraid that he'd raise the townspeople to destroy it or something.

Bashir has more luck with medical episodes than Crusher and Pulaski...

Body Parts

Jadzia's female solidarity!

Alright, how is this one episode going to fit in Keiko's pregnancy (and presumably childbirth?), Quark's condition, Brunt, and Garak?

Federation technology is amazing...

Second time someone calls DS9 a "Cardassian monstrosity". That would make a good tumblr url... Wait, it's not even taken -- I'm very tempted...

of course Brunt bought him, why else would he be in the opening credits? :D this is so beautifully malicious

finally an episode that makes Quark look like a good person

Garak's face says "Killing you sounds like a great idea" :D :D

This is the most delightfully bizarre way to handle an actress' pregnancy :D

QUARK SHOPPING FOR MURDER-SUICIDE OPTIONS WITH GARAK = AMAZING

(not to mention very relatable...)

This is Garak's best outing in the entire season, tbh :D

Don't forget to undo your contract with Garak...

aww

This was a blast! This is a huge step in Quark's character development: following Nog and Rom, now he decides to break his society's rules. I'm very happy. ...But what about Garak, though?

Broken Link

Poor Odo...

aw encouraging Quark

"I'm thinking of asking Julian to come live with us. Even things up a little" Is that the only reason? ;)

"Captain, I want to be judged. I'm the only changeling who's ever harmed another. I've spent most of my life bringing people to justice. Now that it's my turn, how can I run away?"

"Don't tell me you'd object to a little genocide in the name of self-defence?" This is such a Cardassian line...

Why human and not Bajoran?

Oh Odo, just as he got comfortable with his identity as a shape-shifter... :/

General impressions:

Bashir in season 4, a summary: "Friendship ended with Garak, now Miles O'Brien is my best friend" Seriously, though... O'Brien and Bashir's relationship has become one of my favourite parts of the show. They got lots of good content this season: countless casual/humorous scenes, conflict in Hippocratic Oath, need for each other's company in Accession, talking down from suicide in Hard Time... And Garak was the most underwhelming part of the season for me, both himself and his relationship with Bashir -- or lack of it. I'm not even asking for shippy stuff, I know it's not going to be canon, but can't they just share screentime and enjoy each other's company, like they did before and Bashir does with O'Brien now?

And while the writers seem unsure what to do with Garak now, Dukat continues to be incredibly entertaining. Need a personification of Cardassian oppression? An unwanted ally the protagonist(s) would barely tolerate? A pompous prick to make fun of? A dangerously charismatic speaker -- or a windbag who thinks himself much cooler than he is? A relatively sympathetic opponent to provide "grey morality"? Well, here's all of that in one character! And my favourite thing is that despite being so immoral, he's not actually an enemy plot-wise (at least so far), so instead of fighting, defeating, and getting him out of the picture, the heroes just keep telling him how much he sucks. An interesting antagonist with a decent amount of screentime -- the dream. But all of that was about the character in general, and my favourite thing about his two episodes in this season is that he's self-aware of his status as a Complex Antagonist and completely overestimates the "complex and sympathetic" part, and (mis)casts himself as some kind of sexy byronic antihero whose deep and rich inner world will eventually win over the feisty heroine. Meanwhile, Kira is really not into villain/protagonist pairings and just wants the creepy guy responsible for genocide against her people to leave her alone. This was filmed twenty years ago but looks like a parody/deconstruction of currently popular ships like reylo or solavellan -- I find it really hilarious. (Maybe I’d feel more grossed out than amused if his behavior disturbed Kira more -- but she seems so gloriously unimpressed!)

I generally like Klingons and was glad to see Worf again, all of his episodes had something that stopped me from fully enjoying them.

It was my impression that Kira’s screetime got reduced because of Nana Visitor’s pregnancy -- and it was actually a good thing for the show! I feel bad saying this about one of the only two main female characters, but Kira is obviously the writers’ favorite, and got the most attention over the past seasons, so stepping back a bit let other characters shine more.

#star trek #ds9 #blah blah blah

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