#Two-Plus-Two Dialogue

[clericofshadows]

REGIS SHEPARD - 21/??? MASS EFFECT 2 SAMARA: THE ARDAT-YAKSHI

[jaggedjot]

“Louis de Pointe du Lac. That's an interesting name.” “Louis of Pointe du Lac Plantation. My great-great-grandfather owned one. All that remains is the name.”

“And a sizable trust to oversee as a consequence. Capital accrued from plantations of sugar and the blood of men who looked like my great-grandfather but did not have his standing.”

When introducing himself to Daniel both in 1973 and in 2022, Louis alludes to the ways that the legacy of chattel slavery in the United States remains present through his life. The ramifications of this history will be explored further in his interviews; it is intrinsic to the racism that Louis describes experiencing, and it is built into the economic and cultural foundations of the societies that Louis has and continues to navigate through. The way that this subject is broached however, in both the past and present, specifically centres the relationship between slave plantations and Louis’ own affluence.

Daniel’s remark being prefaced by Louis offering to “Get the boy whatever he wants”, before carelessly pushing a platinum credit card between them, implicitly correlates Louis’ response with that ostentatious display of wealth. It is not an intentional association made by the characters, and Louis immediately downplays the link when he recognises it (“All that remains is the name.”). Given his reaction, it seems likely that Louis did not talk about this topic during his subsequent interview with Daniel, though, again, that does not mean it would have had no bearing on other matters discussed. By contrast in the present day, Louis broaches the subject himself and fairly openly acknowledges the correlation. It was a slave plantation and the exploitation of enslaved people that created the sizeable trust that paid for the house and lifestyle that Louis and his family enjoyed. While Louis does not state it directly, the unavoidable implication of Louis clarifying that his great-grandfather was black and had a different social status to that of slaves (“[…] the blood of men who looked like my great-grandfather but did not have his standing.”) is that several generations of Louis’ black relatives have, at least indirectly, financially profited from chattel slavery. It is unlikely that this wealth was all inherited after the fact, considering that the abolition of slavery in the United States occurred only a couple of decades before Louis was born. These pieces of information seem to contradict then the implicit suggestion of Louis’ earlier explanation in 1973, that the only direct bearing the de Pointe du Lac plantation has had on his life is a shared name.

Both the dismissal and the acknowledgement are characteristic of how Louis describes the past; factual as a basic statement but carrying additional implications whose accuracy is more questionable and or left carefully unexamined. This is a rhetorical device that aids Louis in maintaining control of the narrative and its meanings while avoiding, as much as he can, outright lies. While Louis does view Daniel as a necessity for him to revisit his story, it needs to be stated that this does not prevent Louis from consciously and unconsciously tailoring it for his audience. It is possible that Louis only acknowledges the subject at all in the second interview because he is aware that Daniel has likely done some background research on his family. Considering how insensitive to racial issues Daniel can be, as well as his deliberately combative and contrarian approach to interviewing, it may be that this is a subject that Louis does not want to explore with Daniel specifically; it is perhaps notable that the penthouse Louis shares with Armand contains at least two pieces of art (Slave Auction by Jean-Michel Basquiat, and Transformation by Ron Bechet) which are about chattel slavery. Regardless of the reason for Louis’ selectivity, this context continues to hover on the periphery of Louis’ story, adding additional layers of meaning to the events that follow.

It contextualises the contradictory feelings Louis has about his work as a landlord and pimp, roles that may step outside of the shadow of sugarcane and slavery but are only made possible through investing the profits of them. When Louis confesses to the ways he treats his workers, tellingly he invokes plantation imagery with “[…] I lie to myself, saying I'm giving them a roof and food and dollar bills in they pocket, but I look in the mirror, I know what I am; the big man in the big house, stuffing cotton in my ears so I can't hear their cries.”. This conflict then deepens the resentment Louis has towards his family for criticising how he provides for them, with Paul being the only member who even entertains the idea that they should not spend the money at all (“We should tithe that o'er to St. Augustine's 'fore this house falls in on us.”). Whereas the family judges Louis for connecting them to an industry they view as sinful and lacking respectability, contrasting it to the seemingly fondly remembered family plantation (“Daddy was here, we'd still be in sugar cane.”), Louis is troubled by the exploitative nature of that work and capitalism as a whole. Yet there are also times when Louis exhibits pride towards his business dealings (“And I was now the owner of the brightest club in the district. My club, my rules. […] It was everything I had ever wanted or wished for. […] I made a mountain of money, enough to retire and be buried like a pharaoh.”). This could be suggested to be partly because Louis has moved away from the legacy of his family’s past to create something that he can try to believe is helping his, primarily black, workers (“I paid the staff better, paid the band better, all the while helping those who had been with me down the block to better themselves.”).

Most significantly of all, this context adds an additional lens through which Louis and the audience can examine some of the overarching existential ideas that Louis has been grappling with throughout his life, and that the second interview brings to the forefront. How does the past continue to define our present? Can we be considered in any way culpable for the actions of others? What reparations can we make for the harm, deliberate and unintentional, that we do? The open-ended way that Louis approaches the link between his inherited wealth and chattel slavery, as well as the subsequent ways that these have shaped his life, is reflective of those unanswered questions. Louis is desperately trying to find, if not a definitive answer to these philosophical quandaries, an insight that can give his existence purpose and direction. It is vital to Louis that his experiences offer some greater lesson (“That's the purpose. Our book must be a warning as much as anything.”), and ideally one that he can prove that he has already learnt. The different ways that Louis approaches the subject in 1973 and 2022 then reflect how he is revaluating the past and himself (“The passage of time and the frailties that accompany it have provided me perspective.”), but despite this, critically and symbolically, Louis still does not seem to have come to any conclusions.

[deiaiko]

#19.3 Unravel

It had been some time since Agni felt this nervous. Not even talking with Jinsung Ha recently had made him feel like this. He fiddled with the mask on his hand as he waited for Grace to come back. He had thought hard on how to deliver the news, but he knew that no matter how he phrased it, Grace would be upset. Velt nuzzled under his palm and Agni gave her a few pats, before deciding that she would be better inside her bowl in his lighthouse, just in case the shinsu acted up around Grace after he received the news.

Grace came back wearing the comfiest shirt and shorts Agni knew Grace liked to wear on lazy days. He joined him on the floor, and they ate dinner together. Agni always finished last, so while waiting for him to finish his meal, Grace told him about his day with Bam. Grace was intrigued by how much his way of thinking had changed, and how glad he was to be able to be by Bam's side when he was having a bad day. It reminded Agni of the hidden floor, when Grace faced his sworn enemy.

They left the used bowls on the coffee table and went to brush their teeth. Afterwards, they turned off the light and went upstairs to sit on their bed. Grace's curious gaze never left him, and Agni curled his feet nervously.

Grace was the one who broke the silence. "So…what is it?"

Agni's breath hitched. This was the part he dreaded most. "I talked with the crocodile earlier. Did you know that he could manipulate stone already?"

"Huh." Grace needed a few seconds to let the information sink in. "Didn't Rak learn it on the Hell train? How does he know it?"

"Turns out our crocodile also traveled back to the past like us. He found the young crocodile and taught him."

"What?!" Grace gasped, wide eyed. "That means our Rak is–!!"

"He's dead." Agni quickly snuffed out that hope. They had been in delusion for long enough; it was time that they faced the bitter truth. "He suffered a fatal injury from the explosion. He couldn't have lasted long without proper help." Agni omitted the actual cause for Rak's death, but still kept his words true. "I'm sorry."

"…Oh." Grace looked lost, just like Agni was. His lips parted a little, but they closed before any sound escaped.

Agni gently squeezed Grace's hand, encouraging and comforting as he let the silence stretch on, giving Grace some time to process the information.

"Agni…" Grace whispered, "do you think Hatz and Isu…?"

Agni bit his lip and avoided his gaze, as the nightmare of that day replayed in his mind. He witnessed Hatz get his arms ripped off when trying to protect him. He could still recall the clang of a sword hitting the floor, and Hatz's suppressed scream that gnawed deep at his guilt. He witnessed Isu get beheaded after being taken hostage, the memory of warm blood painting them both still vivid like it happened yesterday. 

Agni refused to acknowledge their possible deaths, because it felt like a nightmare that one day he could hopefully wake up from. He avoided the topic when Grace brought it up, so he wouldn't have to say it aloud and make it real. He had been so hard on himself, because he couldn't get rid of the feeling that he had failed Grace and everyone else involved.

Agni knew this had to change if he wanted to live better, now that they had gotten a second chance. So he swallowed down the lump in his throat that had built up over the years and asked mostly to himself; "What are the odds of their survival?"

"There's always a chance–"

"Grace." Agni looked him straight in the eye. "They were already severely injured before the explosion hit."

Grace fell silent and went still.

Agni felt a pang of guilt upon witnessing Grace's reaction. "Sorry. I didn't mean to snap." Agni fiddled with his hands. He realized that he didn't know how much Grace knew of what happened. "My scar…do you know how I got it?"

"I…was told it was from the family heads' battle." Grace looked thoughtful. Agni knew he was trying to be careful with his words. "A stray attack?"

"It could have been worse." The memory of the scorching heat on his skin felt like it had only happened yesterday. He passed out right when he was about to heal Isu, and only found out later that he also lost sweetfish at that time. The days he spent recovering from the burn, to withstand the excruciating pain every second he was conscious, and finally coming to terms that it'd be a permanent scar, was one of the turning points that had changed him forever. Were Grace not there to care for him, he might have ended up destroying himself even more.

Agni hadn't realized he had his left hand clawing on his cheek until Grace pried his hand off and frowned, "You're doing it again."

"Maybe I should wear the mask…" Agni muttered to himself. After all, Grace gave it to him less so he could hide the scar but more to prevent him from unconsciously hurting himself. The only time he could safely take it off was when Grace was around.

Agni bit his lip nervously when Grace didn't reply. He no longer had the courage to look Grace in the eye that spoke so much concern, so he leaned close and rested his head on Grace's chest. "Rak, Isu, Hatz and Hwaryun were trying to get me out of that damned place. But we were caught while escaping, and…it was a bloodbath. I was…too occupied to react to the incoming heat. Rak shielded us from the explosion. And when I woke up…"

"They weren’t with you," Grace finished it for him after Agni trailed off a moment too long.

Agni nodded dazedly, "I've been telling myself that they're still alive, after a blow that could kill rankers. But…who am I kidding? I was lucky enough to survive with just this little–" Agni vaguely pointed to himself– "inconvenience."

Agni felt a hand gripping his arm, and he pulled away to see Grace looking at him with a pained expression. His eyes were glossy and his lips were pulled into a thin line. Trusting his instinct, Agni reached out to gently trace and cup Grace's cheek with his free hand.

"I'm sorry," Agni muttered. "I'm sorry, for not telling you sooner."

Agni silently witnessed tears that streamed down on his love's face. It was a bitter sight that Agni wished he'd never have to see again, that he had tried to avoid for so long by not telling him. He pulled Grace in and held him close to his chest, as if Agni was trying to gather his own crumbled heart back together.

Grace mumbled their late best friends' names as he held onto him tighter, shaking from each breath he took between sniffles.

Agni felt his own eyes sting with unshed tears. He remembered the years he spent climbing the tower together with his old team. Despite their banter being his source of headaches, Agni knew he too had come to acknowledge them as his cherished friends. Only when they were gone did Agni realize how much he'd miss having them around. Seeing the younger them didn't exactly close the gaping hole in his heart, but at least the emptiness was more filled.

Agni squeezed Grace tighter. "We have their younger selves with us now. We will protect them better this time."

Grace only nodded and sank further into his embrace. And Agni planted kisses on his hair, relishing the thought that after everything he had gone through, Grace was still a constant in his life. As long as he had him, everything would be okay.

When Grace started shaking again, Agni caressed his hair and hummed a comfort song they had known by heart. Still, it didn't make falling asleep any easier for Agni, especially not after admitting that his nightmare was very much real. However, as he had been through grief…this, too, would pass.

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[golden-stag]

One thing I'd like to mention about X Plus is I do like Dizzy joining The Jellyfish Pirates. I think the endings where she joins them really stood out, so I'm glad to see the developers kept it canon.

... However, it wasn't my personal favourite ending for Dizzy.

These two just had such a sweet dynamic and friendship going on! I wish we got to see more of it!!

[whattraintracks]

22. Puzzling - TMNT 2012

Don't worry, guys, that wasn't supposed to happen.

When the bit of Kraang tech he's examining (read: poking randomly in the hopes that something will happen) explodes, Donatello's not sure if he or Raphael shrieks louder. He thinks it's Raph. Which would be way funnier under different circumstances.

He blinks against sooty particulates. "Huh, well, that wasn't supposed to happen."

He's amid a cloud of unexpectedly thick, slightly pink smoke. Which is on-brand but frankly annoying. He waves at the air in a vain attempt to disperse it. Maybe he can move this operation to the kitchen, work under the exhaust hood. He should probably install one in here. He gives up flailing his arms, and backs away from the desk. Step one to solving any problem is getting some distance. Step two is—oh, that's weird. The cloud doesn't seem to have moved since the initial explosion. What kind of particles are these? He hasn't seen Kraang tech do this before.

The moment he remembers Raph is also the moment he trips over him. With a yelp, he hits the ground. Hard. Raph giggles. Rude. He's going to have at least two bruises tomorrow. And his scream was definitely louder than Raph's, so he's lost any right to make fun.

"Dude," Donnie groans, pushing to his feet. At least he's away from the Kraang smoke, "Why'd you trip me?"

"I don't know," comes the high-pitched reply, "Why're you so big?"

By the time his eyes clear, he's pretty sure it's a genuine question, not an insult about his height. It makes more sense once he looks down, down, down to find Raph miniaturised.

Donnie throws his hands to his head. "That wasn't supposed to happen, either!" Raph just giggles again.

"Leo!"

As far as they can tell, based on Raph's appearance and memories, he's about five. Donnie can't even remember being that young. Which he counts as a good thing because kids are weird. Or maybe that's just mutant turtle kids. He doesn't have experience with normal children to establish a baseline. Leo and Sensei do, though, and they seem unperturbed by Raph's behavior. Even Mikey takes the whole thing in stride. He is, in fact, absolutely thrilled and oscillates between gathering blackmail material and doing whatever Raph asks.

Donnie will admit he's having trouble making sense of it all. First, and he thinks he’s mentioned this, that was not supposed to happen. He can't figure out how a broken Kraang tech part without any detectable energy source could have caused something like this. Which naturally leads to the question of how he's meant to fix it. Raph has no idea what happened, either, so he's no help. Worse, he just might be the most confusing being Donnie has ever met. Take yesterday, for example.

He's not sure what time it is when he stumbles out of the lab for breakfast, so it might not technically be in the range of the day at which it is appropriate to call a meal breakfast. His brain is too full of viscous pink Kraang smoke to care. It must be some mealtime because everyone but Master Splinter is in the kitchen when he arrives. Leo is at the island supervising Raph and Mikey's mess-making by the stove.

Raph perks up, "Hey Donnie! I wanna tell you a question."

"Ask nicely, Raph," Leo reminds, hiding a smile behind the rim of his tea cup.

"Please, I wanna tell you a question." He barrels on, "How do you open your labrador?”

Open his what? Donnie stares at the space above Raph's head, trying to parse the question until a nudge from Leo resets his brain. "Say what?"

"Your labrador!" He flings his arms out, nearly knocking himself to the floor. Mikey catches the lip of his shell just in time.

“What Labrador? Raph, I don't have a—”

“Yeah, you do!” He's angry of a sudden. Of course, he is. But it's weird. It's not the first time Donnie's made him mad since the incident, but he's never gotten in anyone's face or stormed off with a huff. He just screeches until he gets whatever it is that he wants. It's Raph's anger, but it's not. “It’s how you get to the place you do all your smart stuff!"

Mikey swoops in, crouching to squeeze Raph gently, then translates, “He means the door to your lab, bro.”

“The door? Oh. Why would—?" Donnie sighs heavily, sinking into the stool next to Leo. “Raph, that’s the lab door,” he enunciates, “Not a Labrador. A Labrador is a dog breed."

Just like that, Raph's face unscrunches into something thoughtful. “So it’s not a labrador?”

Well, at least the exasperation is familiar. "I literally just said that. It’s a normal door.” Leo clicks at him warningly. Come on, what is he supposed to do here? Seriously, this feels surreal. Maybe this whole dialogue is a dream, and he's hunched over his desk right now. He straightens his shell to test for any worse-than-usual aching.

“Okay," Raph says. Then he turns around. Just like that. As if the entire conversation never happened. Never mind his original question or whatever he was trying to ask. He makes no sense, literally none at all.

But, you know what, fine. Donnie has to eat anyway so he can go back to the "place where he does all his smart stuff" or whatever. So he can figure out how to get his actual brother back, who at least makes sense most of the time.

Leo finishes his tea, returning Raph's enthusiastic wave goodbye, and then there are three. Mikey and Raph finally settle down to eat whatever noxious concoction they've whipped up as Donnie cleans his dishes. Freshly fed, his brain refills with extradimensional smoke and engineering.

"Well, that's boring!"

He fumbles with his mug at the sudden shout. A glance over his shoulder finds Raph, who had been eating quietly, now glaring at him.

“You should name that boring normal door Labrador so we can just call it that anyway," he says firmly.

He's not sure why he tries to ask, “Why would I—”

“Or or!" And it's like a switch again, anger suddenly dissipating. "We could name it something cooler! Like Thundoor from Crognard!”

“Thundarr,” He corrects. It's too late, Mikey's joins in.

“That’s awesome, little dude!" Mikey laughs buoyantly. "We should name all the furniture!”

“Yeah!”

And Donnie is so tired and so lost, and Raph is too much and too little of his brother at the same time it’s not even funny anymore. He doesn't think it ever was.

“Come one, Dee!" Mikey hoists Raph onto his shoulders, naturally content to ignore the messy kitchen. "Help Raphie and I name everything in the lair!”

Donnie tries to shake his head as Raph reaches for him. “Can you! Can you, please? Just for a little bit, please, Donnie, please?” Oh, now he recalls his manners.

"No, Raph." He bangs his mug onto the drying rack, ignoring Mikey's frown. "I don't have time for your nonsense questions and weird games. I'm trying to fix you."

It's not until he slams closed the lab door that the words trailing after his dramatic exit finally click. A puzzled sort of muttering from Raph: "Fix me? But I’m not broken."

So maybe he got a little too worked up, as tired as he was. But he's better now! He's eaten. He's slept five hours. He's determined to sit here until he cracks this thing.

And then someone bangs on the door.

He drops his head with a groan. How is he supposed to heroically solve all of their problems in these conditions? “Who is it, and what do you want," he shouts into the pages of his notebook.

"Once a second!"

One second, he mouths to himself. He listens to Raph struggle with the door for a lot of seconds and hopes he'll give up. He probably won't. Donnie better unlock it before he hurts himself. Or worse, starts screaming. Only because Leo would find some way to blame Donnie for it.

He shoves the door open, not at all irritated. Or vindicated either, when Raph falls on his shell and his sai skitter across the floor. Wait. “I thought Sensei took those out of your—Hey!”

Five-year-old Raph may not be much of a ninja but he is pretty slippery. He scrambles under Donnie's arm and launches into the rolling desk chair.

“Raphael." He glowers, summoning his inner Leo, "You are not allowed in the lab—”

“Without you,” he recites, spinning the chair so Donnie only catches glimpses of his cheeky smile. “But you’re here too! So it’s okay.”

It most definitely is not. Raph has no understanding of lab safety right now, so if Raph stays in here, then Donnie will have to keep an eye on him, and if Donnie has to watch Raph, then he can't focus on his work. He does not want Raph in here, and he says so.

“Donnie, I'll be so so so good. Please!” Oh, Mikey absolutely taught him how to do that with his eyes. Not cool, Mike.

“Raph," Donnie faux whines back. "I need to work. Go play with Leo or Mikey."

"Ugh," Raph flops onto his shell, letting his head and limbs hang. “But Sensei and Leo are medating, and Mikey’s with Red."

“Meditating," he corrects, "And I know you know her name is April.”

“Casey calls her Red.”

“Yeah, well, Casey’s a—” Raph looks at him with wide, innocent eyes. A promise on his face that anything Donnie says will be repeated. "It’s polite to call people by their name."

Raph hums, continuing to spin idly, “But I don't call you Donatello, I call you Donnie. And you call me Raph or sometimes Fai.”

Not a bad point. But what was that second thing? Fai? Oh. His brain retrieves fuzzy, forgotten memories. That's right. When they were both little, that had been his nickname for Raph. Just between the two of them. He can't remember when he stopped using it.

“Right," he says slowly. "But those are nicknames. They're a shorter version of your name.”

“Oh, okay.” Then Raph rolls out of the chair, clunking to the ground shell first, and wanders away to explore the lab.

Donnie retakes the seat, resigning himself to further interruptions. Part of his brain is devoted to thinking up better excuses in case this is one of those conversations Raph returns to without warning. The rest of his awareness is on Raph as he pokes and prods at books and equipment and even poor Timothy. It takes the better part of a half hour for him to realise he's still sitting at his desk not moving a muscle.

He growls, gripping his head. Raph is on him in an instant. "What's wrong? Can I help? Do you need a book? Do you want one of mine? I can get Leo! Or Sensei, or—"

"No," Donnie snaps.

He gapes as Raph's beak trembles and his eyes fill with tears. "You're crying. Why are you crying? Please stop crying." He slides to the floor next to Raph, "I'm sorry? It's just. I'm trying to focus! I need to fix you, but I don't—"

“I don’t want you to fix me!” He shouts, scrubbing his face and hiccupping. “I just want to play! Why won’t you play with me anymore?"

“Raph, I," Donnie looks down at his hands, "I don’t have time,” he finishes lamely.

“Yes, you do! You’re just being mean!” He runs out of the lab. Probably to someone who actually understands him. Someone who tries. Donnie wonders if he’ll ever stop messing things up for Raph.

Because as far as they can tell, this version of Raph went to bed one day, and the family he found upon waking was suddenly different. Of course, Raph is frustrated and confused and probably a little scared. He's not just normal Raph in a smaller body. Donnie might've realised that sooner if he'd spent more time with him instead of causing one mess after the other and then hiding from it all in his lab.

Donnie doesn't remember when he was five, but he's heard Sensei's stories about their childhood. The ones about his younger self hanging on Raph's every word. That one embarrassing retelling of the biggest fight Donnie ever caused by announcing Raph was his favorite brother. His father's memories of them doing everything together, at least until Donnie really got into science. So he steps out of the lab and locks it behind him. His brother, this brother, needs to come first.

He must look contrite enough that Leo only grills him a little before he points to Raph's room. After a single breath of indecision, he sits, shell against the door.

“Hey, Fai?” he starts, tugging at his fingers, “I’m really sorry. I have been pretty mean lately, haven’t I?” It takes a few moments, but a little thud echoes on the other side of the door.

Relieved, he continues, “I’m not as good at this as I used to be. I might need your help. But I’m out of my lab right now, and we can play whatever you want.”

Donnie hits the floor before he realises the door has swung open. Little Raph is looking down at him, eyes still watery but excited. "Really? Anything? Even Space Heroes!"

And Donnie almost can't believe it's that easy. He smiles with Raph's infectious joy. “Space Heroes? Who are you, Leo?”

Raph collapses into him with a laugh that banishes the rest of his tears as Donnie reaches out, tickling him just like he's seen their big brother do. He's still giggling when Donnie staggers to his feet. “Think I could use some bedding to build us the Dauntless?”

Raph cheers. Launching into an explanation of his favorite episodes and characters as he directs them around the lair to collect supplies. If this isn't blackmail material, Donnie doesn't know what is. Raph will never be able to deny that he likes Space Heroes ever again. Once Donnie figures out how to reverse this Kraang-smoke-induced de-aging that is.

He does still have to. They need Raph as he should be: their teammate, their protector, their equal. But if he were here in those roles right now, Donnie knows he would have heard a thousand times over that he needs to sleep, to eat, to take a break for at least five minutes, Don, come on.

So he'll try. He'll take breaks to hang out with his favorite brother. He'll get a lot of experience building sheet spaceships and pillow forts. And by the end of it all, Donnie will realise his little brother really does just want to play and ask silly questions that probably don’t seem so silly to him. He'll decide this little version of Raph isn't a puzzle of confusing emotions. He's the same pieces he's always been, unfiltered and untethered from all the pain and fear of their older selves.

And so, even after Raph returns to 16, whenever the thought creeps up on Donnie that he's not doing enough, that he needs to fix it. He'll lock his lab behind him and say, "Hey, Fai! Wanna play something?"

[tiny-cloud-of-flowers]

Xeno Femslash February Day 1: Beginning (Lora/Aline)

Following a lead discovered by Haze, Lora travels to the small hamlet of Torigoth in search of her mother, Rynea. Although she is shocked to find the village left in ruins, she is determined to find survivors - and manages to find a Driver hidden in the nearby forest. (2360 words) Takes place near the beginning of Torna ~ The Golden Country. This piece was written for the “Beginning” prompt of the Xeno Femslash February event.

My friend @artificervaldi is running an event/prompt list for this month, aaand.. well, I wanted to have a go at writing some selfship pieces for some of the prompts, so this is my piece for the first one! I hope that this is alright ^-^

(Anyone is welcome to comment on and/or reblog my work if they want to, as long as my DNI is respected!)

Tag list and document transcript under the readmore:

Tag list: @starlit-selfships | @edencantstopfallininlove | @yoomtahsgf | @sunlight-ships | @dragonsmooch | @thatslikesometaldude | @artificervaldi | @keyblade-ships | @seahydra | @alrest | @neuvilline (If you would like to be tagged in any of my future work, please use this form!)

Document transcript:

Travelling with the lord of Aletta himself was a vastly new experience to Lora - as was the might of the Blade he had resonated with. Everything was so different, from the decoration of the inter-Titan transport to his refreshing and light-hearted banter. It was quite clear that Jin was unsure of how to see the situation, but Haze's confidence in the lead she had found was granting her Driver the strength and the hope that she dared to let build up in herself. She found herself enjoying Addam's demeanour, even if Mythra's standoffish nature made for a stark contrast - yet even she had her moments of more genuine appreciation.

When the party, as they could perhaps now be termed, landed on the grass of Gormott, Lora was amazed by the Titan's rolling plains and verdant scenery. Despite the drizzle drifting down from skies above, the wide-open views felt no less dreary; if anything, the plant life seemed almost more invigorated for the water. It was not cold, but neither was it humid - a clear freshness punctuated the air and put a spring in everyone's steps as they made their way to their destination. At times, there were a few tense moments of keeping watch for Ardainian or Coeian forces potentially skirmishing over resources, but these groups were not a strong presence in the local vicinity. Everything felt that little bit new and exciting.

It was only as Torigoth came closer, and the mists of rain had risen into stormclouds as dark as the plumes of extinguished flame-smoke, that the tone of the mission plummeted completely.

Lora found herself gripped by worry that dived headfirst into panic once she realised what had happened, fears rising almost as strongly as if she had stumbled upon her birthplace torn to shreds. Her pace picked up into a sprint as she flew along the path leading to the razed hamlet, not slowing even as she passed through the thick stone walls and further along the path and forwards into what should have been a lively and calm village square but was instead now.. no more than a mere clearing amidst piles of blackened timber and burnt remnants of buildings. There were glimpses of fallen townsfolk, here and there in the chaos; these were peaceful farmers whose lives had been gluttonously cut short by looters.

"Oh, no.."

"Here, too?" Addam wondered aloud from behind her, staring grimly at the carnage wrought before him. "Gormott's an attractive target, but this? Whoever did this.. clearly had no compassion or respect for the people they killed.."

Mythra seemed decidedly less affected by the scene, even if she was frowning slightly as she examined it. "Whether it was Malos, or someone else. Either way, clearly they're all toast."

This casual dismissal earned her a chiding look from her Driver. "Mythra.."

Meanwhile, Jin had become keenly aware of how distraught his own Driver had become, despite her face not being visible from where he was standing. Mythra had reminded Milton before that Drivers and Blades were one in body and soul, and in that moment it certainly did feel as though some of her distress was tangibly adding to his concern.

"Lora.." he began, wondering whether to approach her.

There was a moment's pause before she spoke up. "It's.. It's okay." she then said, mustering up what levity she could. "Mother.. could have run away somewhere safe.."

Her words held little hope or confidence, and everyone would likely have settled into an uncomfortable silence had that silence not been punctured by the sound of armoured footsteps running up to the group.

"You there! A moment, if such may be spared!"

All attention gladly turned from the destruction, the party looked over to one side to see a very tall figure approaching from a side path. They were dressed in quite extravagant white and golden armour, with a long cape and skirt that came down to above their knees, plus silver gauntlet-like gloves and greaves - all of which combined to make an impressive first impression. They were also almost completely soaked through, as could be seen from how much their hair was dripping pitch-black from the rain.

"Might I presume thee to be travellers?" they continued to ask as they ran, stopping upon getting close enough to speak without having to call out.

Haze had been standing closest, and so was primed to step forward to address the stranger while they stopped to catch their breath, crosier in hand. "Are you okay? What happened here?"

In response, they simply shook their head, though it was more in a dismissive way than a negative answer. "Pray be not concerned as to my status. 'Tis that of my Driver for which I would deign to seek thine aid."

"So you're a Blade, then.." Lora mused - but at the sound of her voice, he frowned. He looked up after a moment only to find himself locking eyes with her - and his brow furrowed even more fiercely at the sight.

"Art thou not Lady-?" Then his voice caught in his throat, and he had to take another moment to reassess the situation. This caused Lora and Haze to glance between each other confusedly.

Mythra, on the other hand, was eyeing up the Blade with an unusual amount of interest, looking over the gleaming gold of their armour and the blue sword-shaped Core Crystal set in their chest. "Sure don't see Blades like you in places like this.. Who's your Driver, the lord of Gormott or something?"

"Do not jest so, lest thou receivest the wrong impression. Her name is Aline - a woman of Gormott, whose hair and height art alike to yours save in length." they explained. "She is dressed in verdant green, which may yet aid in her concealment from my view.. I bid her flee for safety at first sight of the brigands responsible for this travesty, yet she is wont to fear all conflict, and mine endeavours in dealing with such scoundrels hath left me wholly unknowing of her location."

The party listened carefully to his description, committing the details to memory. Addam was keen to take charge, his expression more serious than Lora had seen it since first meeting him.

"Right then." he declared as they finished. "A blonde Gormotti girl wearing green. Don't worry, my good fellow - we'll do what we can to find her."

"Full glad am I to hear this." replied the Blade, before pausing as if remembering something. "Ah! Pray forgive my discourtesy. Mine urgency did prevent the proper introductions; you all may address me as Avalon."

"It's good to meet you." Lora said quickly, though her mind seemed to be elsewhere. "I'm thinking that- since there are a few of us, we could split off into pairs to cover more ground. Maybe.. Jin, would you mind staying with Avalon?"

The ice-element Blade, who had clearly been rather taken by their attire, frowned slightly. "..Not outright, but will you and Haze be alright on your own?"

"Yes, don't worry." she insisted. "If anything happens, or you find Aline or anyone else, come back here to the square. I saw that the forest here encroaches on the village quite a bit, so.. if Haze and I look through there, you can check over the immediate area, and then Addam and Mythra can search in the fields to the north. Sound like a plan?"

Everyone quickly gave their assent, and set off to search for the girl.

==========

The rain had not relented, splashing down in heavy raindrops through the towering trees overhead. Haze and Lora were quickly but carefully picking their way through the drenched forest, expressions tense with apprehension. Neither woman was familiar with the flora or fauna of the Titan, and it also had not been clear whether Avalon was able to successfully rout all of the brigands, so the pair kept close together in order to observe without drawing too much attention to themselves. It was a tricky and tentative situation, searching for someone they had never even seen in an environment where she would be almost perfectly-camouflaged.

Trying as she might to concentrate, Lora's mind was racing too quickly to let her focus properly. The way in which Avalon had faltered at the sight and sound of her was unsettling, and most unexpected - yet the more she dwelled on the moment, the more she wondered if it could have meant something. It had been far too long since she last saw her mother, and.. the thought suddenly came to her that it was possible the two could share some resemblance. Which, of course, meant that Avalon was familiar with her. ..She didn't quite know how to feel about that, let alone right in this moment.

Meanwhile, Haze was looking around nervously, but finding the details of her surroundings difficult to discern in the driving storm. "My lady, do you think we should call out for her?"

"I think so." Lora replied. "Avalon said she might be scared, so if she's hiding, it might not be easy to find her ourselves. Besides, we don't want to startle her.."

The Blade gave a dutiful nod, and opened her mouth to cry Aline's name - but it was then that Lora's attention was caught once again, and she failed to hear it.

The trailing ends of a long grey scarf were fluttering in the wind that had just picked up, and their sudden movement drew her gaze to spy a startling peridot gleam just above where they began. As quickly as she had glimpsed it, it fled from view behind a tree whose bark almost shone in the low light from being so rain-saturated.

"Lady Lora? Is everything alright?"

Haze had now stepped into her field of view, her golden eyes examining Lora's own with some concern.

"Wait there a moment, Haze. I think someone else is here.."

As carefully as if she were approaching a sleeping Pippito, Lora kept her sights set on the scarf tails that were even now still just about visible from around the back of the tree trunk, and stepped forward slowly to investigate.

"We're not here to hurt you, if that's what you're worried about." she said to the tree trunk after a moment. "Avalon sent us.."

This seemed to have been the right thing to say, as a hand slowly crept its way around the side of the tree. Following it was the face of a shy young woman, whose drenched blonde hair was poking out from under her grey hood that had pockets for feline Gormotti ears. She was wearing a rustic sort of dress with light, puffy sleeves - and a green skirt and bodice, just as Avalon had implied. Her face was frozen by worry, wet with what could have been rainfall or tears, and her eyes seemed to catch what little light there was in the forest to shimmer with brimming anxiety.

Lora couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief from having found who she was looking for, but she could tell that the young woman was very shaken, and so maintained as gentle a kindness as possible.

"Hello there; my name is Lora. It's alright - I promise you don't need to be scared of us."

"Ah! I'm sorry!" she replied suddenly. "Um, I- I'm Aline.. And I think I might already know a bit about you, Lora.."

This remark caused Lora to blink in confusion as Aline nervously drew back from the soaking tree bark. She noticed that her heart was racing, and had to place her hand over her chest to try and settle it. Meanwhile, Haze had crept up behind her Driver, giving a gentle smile and wave that seemed to ease Aline's worries somewhat.

"My name is Haze." she said softly, after seeing her relax a bit. "I'm really glad we found you, Aline. You're not injured or anything, are you?"

"No, I'm fine, thank you. But- thank you for asking." she stated. "Sorry, I'm not.. normally this anxious, I promise.."

"Oh, please don't worry about that!" Lora exclaimed, almost sheepishly, to try and reassure her. "You'll be safe with us now, that I can assure you. Avalon is, too, in case you were worried - they'll be pleased to see you again, I'm sure."

This remark made Aline's eyes widen. "I didn't want to just leave them alone! But they insisted on this being safer, and.. I-I don't know whether anyone else managed to get out.."

Tears began to well up in her bright green eyes once again, and she raised a soaking-wet hand to unsuccessfully try to dry them. Lora felt a rush of intense pity for her, and quickly tried to sift through her things for a not-yet-completely-soaked handkerchief to use. She had meant to offer it to her, but Aline could do instead was blink as she felt the soft fabric on her face, and her eyes instinctively darted away in every direction to avoid being faced with Lora's.

"Thank you very much-!", she squeaked, causing Lora herself to feel slightly mortified. Why had she done that? She stopped herself and pulled backwards, taking in Aline's expression in full - and then realised the answer, as the fearful aura clouding her had now finally vanished. Haze, meanwhile, couldn't help but chuckle at the kind and instinctive gesture; it was clear that Lora had been worried about her wellbeing, on top of everything else going through her mind. Above them, the rain also began to ease slightly.

There was still a blanket of worry hanging over the three as they decided to make their way back, and each was bracing for a difficult scenario upon their return to the others. Even so, the fact that Haze and Lora had found at least two survivors of Torigoth felt like it had to be something - and that feeling that dared to feel positive was persistent in its slowly-rising nature. With Aline's wealth of experience as guidance, they found a straightforward path back out through the forest, returning to the ruined- but, at least, no longer smouldering - remnants of Torigoth.

And thus, girl met girl.

[kaidanalenkosprmanager]

THE BEST OF PRIORITY: TUCHANKA (PART 1)

Featuring: Cmdr. Sophie Shepard, Urdnot Wrex, and Urdnot Bakara With: Dr. Mordin Solus, Primarch Adrien Victus, Dalatrass Linron, Urdnot Wreav, and Comm. Specialist Samantha Traynor This will be the defining moment of Krogan history... Mass Effect 3: Legendary Edition (2021)

[deityofhearts]

I honestly just don’t get how people default to thinking southern accents are like unserious and unintelligent, I know I live in a bubble and I’ve never been outside of the south so like my world view is skewed but like idk I can’t like conceptualize hearing someone’s accent and going “your accent is too stupid and silly for you to have a brain” like ???

[todayisafridaynight]

biggest fear for kiwami 3 is them retconning mines love for daigo (unlikely but it’s possible) or like something along the lines of that…. the minedai erasure would make me end it all

SUREST doubt of my life: even if you didn't want to interpret it as romantic, mine's love for daigo is an essential part to his character and motivation in y3. they coudnt erase mine's love without redoing his character

[heartbeetz]

I wanna know if Anton's va/creator had any specific regional accent/dialect in mind when deciding on his voice. Bc it sounds like there's maybe Something distinct there, but I can't for the life of me tell what it is. It may even be nothing.

[tsurangaconundrum]

I just think like although the new episodes are cool and interesting on a conceptual level they don’t earn anything they’re doing. they just throw things out there all the time which like you can do that i guess but damn. and i think being like ncuti doctor is healed see he talks openly about his peoples genocide. isnt the right move for the character or for expressing that. It felt clumsy

[lovecoredeity]

alright so on the actual webbed site I can upload 30 images at a time, I have now amassed 44 oc diary entries, do y’all really want 44+ badly written and doodled diary entries made by my oc?

[theres-whump-in-that-nebula]

When British writers come up with an American character’s dialogue and give them the most painfully British things to say with their American accent and inflection and it makes the actor come off as stiff. :P

[the-rose-owl]

Being bilingual is great bc I can justify watching the same 6 hours of content for the third time in 10 days to see how they translated the dialogue <3

[sebek-zigbolt]

I see ppl being sad that grim ssr is running now with glo mas but I just hate grim SO much w ALL my heart <333 so if im mad abt anything its him having an ssr in the 1st place. Oh and being rollos DUO of all things.

[soft-serve-soymilk]

let’s be real y’all want the tales of the abyss liveblog too 😂