#ability to save up to 500 voice lines!

[matan4il]

Update post:

Rockets from Gaza continue to be fired at Israel. The 7 days where there was a break in the fighting, were clearly used by Hamas to re-build their abilities to fire into Israel, because the rocket attacks since the fighting has resumed are more intense than they were in the days before the break started. The rockets from Gaza were joined today by rockets from Hezbollah in Lebanon, and from Syria. Among other consequences we've seen on this day, at least 12 Israelis were injured by this rocket fire, and a synagogue was hit.

As the testimonies about the rapes and sexual assaults committed by Hamas continue to mount, in the last two days, we got confirmation that men were victimized by Hamas, too. The voices decrying the rapes as crimes against humanity are starting to be heard as well. The fact that it took people two months to get there, and some (*cough* the UN Women's organization *cough*) still issued what can barely be called a pale statement on the subject. When taken with how long it took them to speak, it really is not enough. But some voices are actually surprising. The Guardian is notoriously anti-Israel, to the point where its own Jewish worker has written about not feeling safe there. But now they've published an op ed that said exactly what needed to be said: rape is rape. And looking away from rape, for whatever reason, is wrong. And here's another testimony from a piece by The Sunday Times:

People are speculating on why Hamas won't release the last of the women that are known to be alive and in captivity in Gaza, despite that being a breach of the hostage deal, and a red line for Israel. A common hypothesis is that these women must have been raped and abused so badly, Hamas doesn't want to release them. IDK if this is true, but then, I'm not just writing about what Israelis know for sure. I'm mainly writing about what Israelis are going through, the torment of not knowing, the fear of the darkest possibilities that come up when the unknown looms over us, and this hypothesis is a part of it.

The IDF says it has destroyed 500 terror tunnels in Gaza since the fighting began, and 800 tunnel shafts. It has also published the names of Hamas leaders, and called on them to surrender. This is a reminder that Hamas could stop all the fighting, and save many Palestinians, by surrendering immediately, and returning all the hostages that it's still holding.

This is Yaron Avraham.

He was born to an Israeli Arab family in Lod. When he was 9 years old, his beloved older sister was murdered in front of his eyes by his older brothers, for having returned home late (i.e, for supposedly being promiscuous). He was incredibly distraught, since he was so attached to her, and to get him out of the way, he was sent by his brothers to study at an extremist mosque in Gaza. He recounted that he was there for 5.5 years, during which the boys were indoctrinated to hate Jews, and think little of their own lives. As a climax exercise, they were "buried" alive in a real grave, in a real cemetery, while their classmates held their funeral above them. Yaron Avraham said it took him years to heal from this experience. Another incident that he shared, is that once, two of his classmates were accused of being sexually active together (he didn't believe the accusation, and thought they were being made an example of). The two boys were beheaded in front of their classmates. Yaron gave them hell at the mosque, until they sent him back to his family. His brothers then had him study instead in another extremist mosque, this time in the village of Yatta. After another 1.5 years there, he ran away, and ended up living on the streets of Lod, a mixed Israeli city. He was taken in by a Jewish man, who fed and took care of him, and gave him proper education. After a couple of years, Yaron chose to volunteer, to serve in the IDF. His unit was sent to Gaza, and he ended up outside the mosque where he was abused. He wanted to go in and kill everyone there, but his Jewish commander stopped him. "You don't understand," he tried to explain the antisemitic brainwashing that happened inside that mosque, but his commander insisted that killing everyone inside goes against our values. Yaron said that this was the beginning of his journey to convert to Judaism, when he saw how instead of sanctifying death, Jews sanctify life. Everyone's life. Even their enemies'.

Yaron has retold his story numerous times, my summary here is based on several of his interviews, written and filmed. But something that got to me about a recent one, that he gave after Oct 7, is that he was asked about the occupation as the excuse anti-Israelis give for Hamas' brutal violence. Yaron said that it was never mentioned! That in the 7 years he spent in those two mosques, no one ever talked to them about the occupation. That it was always clear this was a religious fight. The problem was the evil character of the Jews. That is the mentality of Hamas terrorists. That is the antisemitic brainwashing that they undergo. That's why they can rape, maim, torture and murder without a second thought, even though they surely know this would not liberate any Palestinian.

The Iran-funded Houthis terrorists attacked two ships today, both supposedly for being Israeli. The less severely damaged ship has one shareholder who's an Israeli businessman. The more severely damaged one has nothing to do with Israel, it's believed the Houthis might have misidentified it. Officially, the Houthis say they are in a war against Israel and the US.

This is 21 years old Keshet Kasrotti.

He was murdered at the Nova music festival, one of over 360 young people slaughtered there. His mom said that her one comfort, is that he was shot in the chest, so he died quickly. His suffering didn't last as long as it did for some. She also shared that many Israelis, upon hearing her son's first name (it means 'rainbow' in Hebrew) sent her this short poem by Neria Yaakov:

"I am breaking / said the light / and became a rainbow."

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

[bewilderedbunny]

Thinking of Eddie with a partner who isn't musically inclined.

Self indulgent fluff, just under 500 words, Eddie x gender neutral reader

One of the many things you love about Eddie is his gift for music. His ability to learn songs by ear and play difficult riffs never ceases to amaze you. You, however, can't carry a tune to save your life. Growing up you made the choice not to sing around others to avoid embarrassing yourself.

One day while hanging out in his room, Eddie puts on Iron Maiden's "The Number of the Beast" Once Run To The Hills plays he's instantly tapping his fingers on the nearest object, which happens to be you. You laugh and nod your head along with the song. He grabs ahold of your hand and sings into it like it's a microphone. You giggle at his silliness, even more when he decides your arm is his new guitar and tickles you to the song.

At the chorus, he goes back to your hand and sings, gruff and euphonious,

"Run to the hills, run for your lives"

He holds your hand up to your mouth. You shake your head and push it back toward him. He frowns and pushes it back. After a short tug-of-war, you give in and hum the song. His frown deepens.

"If you don't know the words, it's just "run for the hills, run for your lives for the next bit."

"Oh, I know. I like you too much to subject you to my singing, haha..."

He does not laugh like you had hoped he would. Instead, he rewinds the song

"I want to hear you sing."

"Eddie, you are sweet but really, it's fine. I'd rather not start a howling match with the dogs in the trailer park."

He gives you an unimpressed look and crosses his arms.

Again, he is unamused by your self-depreciation. Realizing that playing fair isn't going to work, he raises his eyebrows and gives you what can only be described as pleading baby cow eyes. You sigh and speak into your hand,

"Selling them whiskey and taking their gold."

"fuck it," you think as you take a deep breath, readying yourself for the chorus.

"Run tooo the hillllsss" you wince at the croak in your voice and look at Eddie, expecting his ears to be bleeding. Instead, he's got the goofiest grin you've ever seen plastered across his face. He nods at you and you repeat the line, a bit more confident this time.

He looks at you like you are a baby taking its first steps. His sincerity makes your heart hurt.

"Sing along with me, please?"

You two finish the song and once it's over he pauses the tape.

"I told you, I can't sing." You

"Yeah, you really can't. " he laughs as you playfully swat at him. "But that's okay! I like the way you sing. I bet you have perfect pitch, underwater or in a different dimension, maybe."

[alradeck]

Whole comic so far found here: https://caelumsky.thecomicseries.com/

So I'm going to start assembling a Caelum Sky Narrated Series on my youtube channel here: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCiSg4laObGuDFeg3orfKvVw This is something I've wanted to do for a while, and folks seem to like them, so it's time to heap more onto the plate, haha. THIS POSITION IS PAID: I'm a firm believer in paying folks for their time. Also bearing in mind this is entirely funded on my own, so be reasonable. Please include your rates/hr in your email to Juncagen@gmail.com! You don't have to be a professional voice actor to apply! But a clear, clean voice recording (ie, decent mic, no dogs barking in the background/ noisy AC) is essential!  Must be able to record/ send files  (through audacity, what have you)   Voice lines are recorded a chapter at a time.  If you've voice acted in the past, be sure to include that on the email! CHARACTER NOTES- When you're trying out for these characters, please use the lines provided. This helps me gauge people 1:1 VOICES NEEDED: Neri - Main Character - Demon/ dinosaur - Female - Early 20's Neri is optimistic, and often sassy. Bright, energetic at times, worn down and cynical at others. Smartass preferred. Can be higher or lower, would prefer ability to growl the dinosaur lines with the same tone as the human lines a little more as inflection. More Sultry than Perky. Less Catty, none ditzy, but plenty vibrant. Sample line: " Ah, wow, cool, I'm just here minding my business, but thanks for stabbing me again" - Raziel- Main Character - Angel/ Exorcist - Male - Mid to Late 20's Raziel is tired. Worn down, unhappy, not droopy-esque though. To the point. Frustrated. Lower-ish voice, but young enough there's still a hint of energy to it. Can be lighthearted, often not. Not gruff, but not emotionally embellished in tone.  Embodies the person who's leaving work in an hour but got a task that'll take 4 hours past that. That's Raziel. 500% done with the world also works. Sample Line: "Listen, it's been a long day, I've got a busy day tomorrow of answering stupid questions, so if we could just... move on?" - Cempe - Major character- Demon/ Big Worm - Female, mid 30's. Cempe enjoys chaos, and mostly enjoys screwing around with other people. Enthusiastic. Sick of everyone's shit upon meeting. Ready to tease the big details in front of you only to pretend she's never offered them. Energetic, almost comically diabolical. Playing the game where only she holds the cards. Looking for someone to be able to growl the words a bit when in big wiggily form. Big "wine mom' energy. Sultry as heck. Sample Line: "Oh i'm so sorry! You can't just waltz in here and expect answers! That's paid for in blood." - Priest (His name is Dave) - Minorish Character - Human/ Exorcist/ Priest - Male - 60's Fatherly, a bit older. More optimistic at times, but tasked with trying to keep charge of chaos. Lighthearted at points, helpful but cautious. Is used to cleaning up messes and making sense of bad decisions. Tired. But less tired than Raziel. Sample Line: "I keep telling you, we can't keep saving every sad-eyed animal we come across. And no pet demons!" - Katherine - Minor Character - Human - Mom -Female - late 30's Weathered. Sassy. Deeper smoker's esque voice (no comical smoking voices) Level-headed, apprehensive. Has had a rough life, but exists in calm currently (somewhat) Distrustful. Hard to convince. Sample Line: "If you can just ask doggy to not, uh, rip open any more walls, I'm sure it'll work out okay" - Amber - Minor/Majorish character - Human - Female - 4 and 8 years old. I can't rightfully expect someone to be able to replicate a literal child. I'm also not gonna dabble with doing hyper baby-ish voices. Looking for a lighter voice, quiet, happy. Optimistic, Bright. Impervious to seeing the bad side of things. Excited to have a giant dinosaur as a friend. Sample Line:  "That's just fine! If you stay here at the house, then we'll never have to deal with the other monsters!"

[trashyswitch]

Strengths, Weaknesses and Cards

Marvin and Jackie chat about strengths, and end up accidentally bringing up a weakness of Jackie's that no one has ever known. And Marvin makes damn sure that no one else finds out either.

This fanfic was suggested by one of my favorite anons, Shannon...Who had suggested it AGES AGO. So sorry for how freaking late this is, and I hope and pray that it's worth it. 🃏

Marvin collected his magic items and placed them in his magician bag. When everything was in order, Marvin fixed the mask on his face and adjusted his cape. 

“Whatcha up to, magic man?” Someone said behind him. 

Marvin yelped and turned around, before smiling a bit. “Hi Jackie. Not much. What about you?” She as

“Got any good stories to tell me about saving people?” Marvin asked. 

Jackie chuckled. “Can’t you receive the same stories through the news?” Jackie asked. 

“Yeah, but you make them sound better.” Marvin admitted. “Plus, you’ve got a great talk show voice.” Marvin added. 

“Okay.” Jackie started narrating a story of how he saved a guy from falling to his death when his parachute didn’t open properly. After trying and failing to physically open the parachute by force, Jackie quickly took it upon himself to carry the man slowly down to the safety of the ground. After helping the guy calm down from the previous anxiety of almost dying, Jackie got the victim’s address from his friend so that he could send him something later in the day. 

“So what were you gonna send him?” Marvin asked. 

“I have no idea.” Jackie admitted. “Something along the lines of ‘I hope you’ve recovered well, and if life kicks you down, Call me up! I’m likely in town’, or something.” Jackie said. 

Marvin chuckled. “That’s some Dr. Seuss-level literature, right there.” he said with a smirk. Jackie chuckled. “Thank you, Marvin.” 

Marvin smiled and looked around for a bit. “What’s the biggest thing you’ve ever had to lift?” Marvin asked. 

Jackie thought for a moment. “Hmmmm…” He rubbed his chin. “Well other than these MASSIVE BICEPS…” Jackie joked, flexing his muscles jokingly. 

Marvin rolled his eyes. “But seriously…” Marvin walked a bit closer. “What’s the heaviest thing you’ve lifted?” Marvin asked. 

Jackie thought for a bit longer. “I did have to save someone from getting crushed by a huge boulder once.” Jackie admitted. 

Marvin widened his eyes. “Wait…really? How big was it?” He asked. 

“About 3,000 pounds.” Jackie admitted. “It was difficult, but I eventually put it down on an empty field nearby.” Jackie admitted. “There, I helped a bunch of people break it up into smaller chunks so they could move them better.” Jackie added. 

Marvin looked at Jackie with starry-eyes. “Woooow…” He mumbled. 

Jackie tilted his head. “What?” He asked. 

“You’re so strong and brave! How did you get so strong in the first place?” Marvin asked. 

Jackie chuckled. “With help from the POWER OF AWESOMENESS!” Jackie declared. 

“........No workouts? Dumbbells? Not even a weight or two?” Marvin asked. 

Jackie shrugged his shoulders. “I do that too. I gotta stay strong somehow.” Jackie admitted. 

Marvin smiled. “How much can you lift in weights?” Marvin asked. 

“Off adrenaline, I can lift 400 pounds in one go.” Jackie admitted. “But with the adrenaline rush…I can lift between 600-650 pounds.” Jackie added. 

“Holy-” Marvin quickly looked something up and dropped his jaw. “You can bench press about as much as Dwayne Johnson can in one go!” Marvin reacted. 

“How much does The Rock bench press?” Jackie asked. 

“400-500 pounds, according to an interview in 2021.” Marvin replied. 

“Damn…” Jackie muttered. “But he worked hard for those muscles his whole life. He deserves the ability to bench press that much.” Jackie added. 

“...Are you implying that you don’t deserve to be able to lift 400-600 pounds?” Marvin asked. 

“I don’t work as hard as Dwayne Johnson does…” Jackie admitted. “The reality is…I could be capable of lifting more than 650 pounds.” Jackie admitted. “But…I don’t work my way up past that because…I need time to work on my mental health too.” Jackie explained. 

“Isn’t working out supposed to be good for your mental health?” Marvin asked. 

“Yeah, it is…when you’re not pushing yourself way beyond your limits to the point of over-exertion.” Jackie added. “Pushing yourself is good…but over-exerting yourself makes your mental health worse.” Jackie added. “And frankly…I’m okay with how much I can lift right now. If I find something I can’t lift while on the job, then I’ll work at being able to make lifting that thing easier on the arms and back.” Jackie explained further. 

“Fair enough…” Marvin admitted. 

“Plus…I’m already afraid of over-exerting myself in front of thousands while doing my duties.” Jackie admitted. 

“Because evil people may see you have a weakness?” Marvin asked. 

“Mhm…” Jackie admitted. “Which…I do…But I don’t want other people finding out and taking advantage of it.” Jackie added. 

“Oh…” Marvin walked up and pulled out his deck of cards. He spread them out in a fan, and smiled. “Take a card.” Marvin told him. 

Jackie raised an eyebrow and chuckled. “Really? A magic trick right now?” Jackie asked. 

Marvin rolled his eyes with a smile. “Just do it.” He told him. 

Jackie sighed and took a card from the middle of the deck and looked at it. But the moment he looked at it…He widened his eyes and blushed a small bit. “U-Uh…” Jackie mumbled. 

“What?” Marvin asked. “Wait…” Marvin searched through his deck of cards quickly. “I didn’t leave the jokers in the deck again, did I?” Marvin muttered out loud. 

“Duhude, you’re evil.” Jackie said, showing him the card. 

Marvin leaned in slightly and looked at the card. Reading it, Marvin widened his eyes and chuckled. “Oh…Hahaha!” Marvin giggled. “I forgot I had that card in there!” Marvin admitted, taking it from Jackie. “Sorry…that’s embarrassing.” Marvin put the hand-written blank card into his pocket. 

Jackie looked down, blushing even more as he was unable to stop thinking about the card’s little question. It was such a simple question, but…it still felt overwhelmingly embarrassing to admit it. 

“What?” Marvin asked. “Something wrong?” He asked next. 

Marvin widened his eyes and shook his head. “No no no, sorry! I-...” Jackie bit his lip and attempted to hide his bashfulness. But alas…it was fruitless. 

“Oh! Is it the card?” Marvin asked. “You don’t need to answer it.” Marvin admitted. “Heck, I can just forget about it if you’d prefer.” Marvin added. 

The superhero looked down, biting his lip. “Yes.” Jackie replied softly. 

“Yes, you want to forget about it?” Marvin clarified. Jackie looked up with widened eyes. “No! Don’t forget about it.” Jackie told him. “I meant…Yes…” Jackie started. “-To…To the card’s question.” Jackie admitted. 

Marvin widened his eyes slightly and raised his eyebrows. Wait…Was THEE Jackieboy Man…who didn’t want anyone to know his weakness…telling him his weakness? Marvin slowly pulled out the card again, and read it again. 

[Are you ticklish?] 

Marvin looked at Jackie with a shy smile. “You…feel comfortable admitting that…to me?” Marvin asked. 

Jackie slouched over, rubbing his right arm with his left hand. “I…Think so…” Jackie admitted. 

Marvin smiled a bit more and put the card back into his pocket again. “Do you wanna leave your answer as that? Or…” Marvin raised his arms up and wiggled them a bit. “Can I…” Marvin muttered in a higher-pitched voice. 

Jackie couldn’t help the giddy giggles that left his mouth. “Yeheheah, sure.” He replied. “Goho ahead.” He replied. 

Marvin walked up and was about to plant his hands onto Jackie’s sides first…but then he paused. Marvin thought for a moment, and…brought his hands back. “Hold on.” He said. Marvin began to close the blinds and the curtains in the living room before shutting off his phone and placing it upside down so it couldn’t record anything from the front. “I assume you want me to make sure no one else sees this?” Marvin explained. 

Jackie couldn’t help the warm, fuzzy feeling that filled his body. Marvin was really taking the time to make sure no one else finds out about his one weakness. It was very thoughtful and considerate of him… 

“Okay.” Marvin turned on the main living room light and gently pushed Jackie onto the couch, before cracking his knuckles. “Let’s see what you’re made of.” Marvin said before placing his hands onto Jackie’s sides. “First off: Are your sides ticklish?” He asked, before squeezing them a bit. 

Jackie gasped and quickly brought his arms against his own upper chest, guffawing and pulling his legs up slightly. “GAHA! Hahahaha- Yehes! Ahaha lihihittle bihit.” Jackie admitted. 

Marvin’s smile began to show teeth. This was really happening…Marvin was actually tickling the world-famous Jackieboy Man right now! How could this be happening right now?! Marvin quickly let go of Jackie’s sides so he could skitter his fingers on the same spots very softly. “Do softer tickles get you-” 

Jackie squeaked and curled into a little ball, kicking his feet like a little kid short fits of proper laughter left his mouth. “HAHAhahahehehehe! Yehehehes, thehehehey dohoho!” Jackie admitted. “Ihihit’s wohorse ihif you-” “Ah ah ah~” Marvin stopped tickling and placed his index finger on Jackie’s lips. “Noooo spoilers. I wanna find all your ticklish spots on my own.” Marvin told him. 

Jackie smiled a bit more and removed Marvin’s finger from his lips. “Okay, okay.” He replied. “Just…please don’t make me wait in anticipation.” Jackie pleaded softly. 

“Okay!” Marvin replied right before tickling the lower ribs. “How’s this spot?” He asked rhetorically. 

Jackie threw his head back and let out a strong fit of cackly laughter. “BAHAHAHAhahahahaha! VEHEHERY TICKLIHIhihish!” Jackie replied. 

“I can see that!” Marvin reacted. “But what about the rest of your ribs?” Marvin asked as he moved his fingers very slowly up the man’s rib cage. 

Jackie’s laughter didn’t seem to go up in volume. But it certainly did go up in octaves! Every pair of tickled ribs seemed to make Jackie’s laughter go up a couple notes. And with the jumping laughter, came more and more wiggles from Jackie! In the span of 4 ribs on either side, Jackie had gone from tightened arms against his chest, to flapping his arms like a tense bird. 

It was around this time that Marvin had begun to see Jackie in a whole new light. Though seeing Jackie laugh at a joke or a reference was enjoyable enough, seeing Jackie cackle his head off while wriggling under him…was a whole new level of entertainment. And as of right now…Marvin was one of the only ones who was experiencing this side of Jackie! 

“OHOHO GOHOHOSH- WAHAITDON’TGOHIGHER-” Jackie gasped as Marvin’s fingers touched down against his armpits. Jackie threw his head back and let out a strong, almost deafening scream! “NAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHA! AAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Jackie shouted with laughter as he squeezed his arms against his sides to stop the fingers in their tracks. 

“Ooooooh!” Marvin reacted. “Now THIS I gotta test out!” Marvin declared as he grabbed Jackie’s arm and placed it above his head. 

Marvin started with one finger just tracing up and down the hollow of the armpit, which made Jackie giggle manically and whine a little bit. “EEehehehehehehe! Ehehehevihihil!” Jackie yelled in a much higher-pitched voice. 

Marvin laughed at his reaction. “I still can’t believe no one else has found out about this yet!” Marvin reacted before starting to very lightly flutter his fingers in his exposed armpit. “And I’m guessing you want to keep it that way?” Marvin guessed. Jackie giggled and nodded his head. “Yehehehess! Thahahat wohohould be nihihihice.” the superhero replied. 

“Ey ey, captain! Marvin the Magnificent shall keep his lips zipped.” Marvin replied as he stopped tickling to salute the hero. 

Jackie had taken the break generously, breathing in and out somewhat heavily. Though the hero had a lot of endurance (It’s somewhat required in order to be a hero), Jackie wasn’t exactly used to tickling as a form of cardio. He was more used to heavier cardio like sprinting, flying, and martial arts. But tickling?! That was a completely foreign concept to his body. 

“Did you need a break?” Marvin asked. 

Jackie nodded his head and let out a deep breath. “Yeheah. Thanks.” He replied. “Ihi…I haven’t been tickled in years…Decades, actually.” Jackie admitted. 

Marvin widened his eyes. “Wait, really?!” Marvin asked. “Not even by friends?” He asked. 

Jackie shook his head. “The most relationships you ever make when you’re saving a city of people…is acquaintances.” Jackie admitted. “You and Chase are the closest friends I’ve ever had.” He told him. 

Marvin couldn’t help the bittersweet look that filled his face. He never realized that Jackie struggled so much to have deeper friendships. He knew that he could make friends easily, thanks to his job. But…develop them into something more? That was a whole new thing entirely. Marvin bit his lip as he played with his fingers for a moment. “Hey Jackie…” Marvin called softly. 

“Yeah?” Jackie replied. 

“Do…Do you want a hug?” Marvin asked. 

Jackie widened his eyes and slowly started to smile while he sat up. “I would love one!” He replied before hugging Marvin first. 

Marvin took a moment to process the shock of being hugged first, but quickly closed his eyes and hugged him back. Marvin also discovered that Jackie had a really strong, secure hug. It made his hug feel more comforting and caring…to the point where Marvin refused to let go when Jackie started to pull away the first time. But Jackie quickly smiled and closed his arms again, continuing the hug for Marvin’s sake. Even Jackie had to admit that the hug felt really comforting. 

Eventually, Marvin let go and squeezed Jackie’s shoulders a couple times. “Feeling better?” Marvin asked. 

Jackie chuckled. “Why are you asking me?! You were the one who wanted the hug.” Jackie mentioned. 

“True…but you looked like you needed it.” Marvin told him. 

“Yeah…I guess I did need it.” Jackie soon admitted. 

“Are you two gonna kiss now? Or…” Some voice nearby said to the boys. 

Marvin yelped and turned to look at the voice. “WHAT THE-?!”

Meanwhile Jackie had widened his eyes and looked over at the voice. “Who- Oh…Hi Chase.” Jackie said. 

“…Hi…” Chase replied awkwardly before taking an overly long sip of his tea. “…did I interrupt something?” Chase asked. 

Marvin blushed slightly before letting go of Jackie’s shoulders. “No.” Marvin replied. 

“Okay.” Chase walked to the kitchen and opened the fridge. 

Jackie looked at Chase for a moment, before smirking at Marvin. Marvin tilted his head. What was the superhero thinking? But right as Marvin was about to ask, Jackie pointed to the card deck in Marvin’s pocket. “Can I try the magic trick on you?” Jackie asked. 

Marvin smiled a bit and pulled out his cards, handing them to Jackie. “Have fun.” 

Jackie smirked and spread the cards out like a fan. “Pick a card, any card.” Jackie declared. 

Marvin smiled and took a card. But when he looked at it, he started tittering and covered his mouth. “Wohohow, not bad there, Red.” Marvin teased. 

Jackie smiled and put the cards away before pointing to Chase. “Revenge?” Jackie offered. 

Marvin smirked and nodded as he took the card, put them into the sleeve, and put them back into his pocket. “Revenge.” 

Marvin and Jackie took off running to Chase, cornering him in the kitchen. While Jackie used his flying ability to hold Chase’s arms in the air, Marvin took the time to target every one of his tickle spots for about 5-10 minutes each. And to be extra rude and annoying, Marvin even took his time telling and showing Jackie which specific ticklish spots created specific sounds, as well as what finger techniques worked on each specific area. And the last words that anyone from a 10 foot radius could hear was Chase’s laughter with the words “YOU GUYS SUCK!” Amidst his laughter. 

[queenmayor23]

Grand Piano VI {Dean Winchester X Male Reader}

An oversized teddy bear sits in the rocking chair.

TJ: Whoever you are... Whatever you are, just come out before my revolver does.

The bear fades out of reality, and a man replaces it in the room, clapping. The man was pale in the face and dressed in a high-end suit. His greying beard and the oak wood cane were the only factors to reveal his age. His thick Southern accent and gravelly voice put TJ on edge.

Man: You spotted me. Very impressive.

TJ: The only thing that goes in that chair is me. I won't even put a blanket on it. 

Man: Good idea. Though it is a comfortable chair, you probably want to keep it from wear and tear.

TJ: You have about ten seconds until I take out the revolver in my nightstand. So who are you, and what do you want?

Man: My name is...

The man chuckles, smiling at the thought of his answer.

Man: I have been called many things over my lifetime. Some called me a Lord of Chaos, others one of Order. But I am merely an agent observing for a bigger mission. One that may have you separated from Dean Winchester for a long time or bring up some memories that make you want to run into his arms.

TJ: Okay, what do I get out of this fantasy football recruitment?

Man: Knowledge. Power. Tools to fight the upcoming war. A family with Jackson Lunden, like in the dream. Or. A thrilling adventure with Dean Winchester. But all of that depends on how you react to the return of John Winchester.

TJ: So he's alive?

Man: For now.

TJ: Hmm.

TJ nods, thinking about all the variations of things that could happen if they were ever in the same room again. Then he thinks about what scenarios could put them in the same room.

TJ: You said that there was a bigger mission. Care to explain?

Man: I want you to take my place. 

TJ: As a what?

Man: As a keeper of balance. Live as long as you want, but when you are ready to die, have someone in place to take up the mantle. No possession is needed. 

TJ: You look 45, 50 max. How long did you live?

Man: Over 500 years. I stopped myself from aging. Then when I knew I was getting tired, I allowed my internal self to age while remaining physically the same externally. But just because I did it doesn't mean you have to. You can look like whatever you want to as long as you do the job. 

TJ: Meaning?

Man: The Winchester Brothers will find themselves in a war between heaven and hell, and people like me, and hopefully you, use our power to create balance. The angels have to be good, and demons create chaos. When angels start to blur that line, and they will, you have to push them back. You will inevitably make deals with monsters that will put lives in danger. And because of your new abilities, those closest to you will become targets, including Jackson, Richie, and everyone at the lounge. I myself have lost quite a few loved ones over the years. Yes, most to natural death, but the ones that hit harder are those you lose, knowing you have the power to save them and can't. 

TJ: Okay, say I want to do this. How do I acquire these powers?

Man: When the young you and Dean "connected," it seeded a bit of my power in you. 

TJ: Wait, so that was you?

Man: It was my power presenting itself to you in a form that would not threaten you. When you accept it, it will pour into you, as I will peacefully die in my sleep.

TJ: And I get to have an everyday life when I'm not dealing with balance keeping?

Man: Of course. Well, as ordinary as you can get for someone like you. I imagine running an underground bar is pretty hectic. I would've loved something like that in my younger years. Don't even get me started with prohibition-

TJ: Fine. I'll do it. As long as it comes with some sort of instruction manual. This is new territory for me. 

Man: Here's the thing. There are no rules other than good equals good and bad equals bad. So if you want to poof to Paris for a date, you can. Want the President dead? Send a werewolf to attack the White House. Time travel can be iffy, but just make sure you bend your knees and don't interact with yourself in your own form. Oh, I should mention it helps the balance keeping when you go hunting, including demons. They're overpopulated down there, anyway. Other than that, you should be good. It shouldn't matter because you'll be semi-omniscient. So… thanks, and have a good and productive life.

The man snaps, and TJ falls asleep again. 

[choco-pudding]

Space Channel 5 Gyun Gyun Book p. 90-99. (Translations by @lavoszero and myself. Edit by myself.)  

Guide pages from Report 4. With this, we only have 11 more pages to scanlate.

Imgur link to all of the Gyun Gyun Book translations we’ve done thus far.  

Plain text below

p. 90

Boardroom Finally getting to the heart of this case! The station’s security system has been tampered with, and the intruder neutralizing weapons are on standby. It's time to use the A-mazing Deluxe A Button Beam to find out the truth behind the brainwashed Morolians!

Act. 1 Shooting The rhythm is pretty easy to follow and there’s none of those annoying, problematic back-to-back sets. If you’re aiming to recuse everyone in Report 4 in the shortest time possible, just make your ratings are at 88 ~ 89% when this Act. ends while playing in Extra Mode and you’ll be good, good, good!

Help Us! No. 65: Purmoro (Purple) >P. 114 No. 66: Remoro (Red) >P. 114 No. 67: Gremoro (Green) >P. 114 No. 68: Blumoro (Blue) >P. 114 No. 69: Yemoro (Yellow) >P. 114 No. 70: Pimoro (Pink) >P. 115

p. 91

Act. 2 Dance The BGM slows down for the 6th set, which can trip you up. If you treat as still having an 8 beat rhythm, you can hit the buttons on what would be the 1st, 3rd, and 5th beats. Two notes for Extra Mode: enter this Act. with the ratings below 89%, and you'll get to save the Channel 5 Security Robots; end this Act. with the ratings above 89%, and you’ll head to the Recording Studio..

Help Us! No. 04: Space Michael >P. 102 No. 58: Channel 5 Security Robo >P. 112

Column: Mysterious Man Space Michael

The Incident 500 Years Ago Was Also a Game! Space Michael is a reporter for Space Channel 5. He's a very cool guy who's traveled freely throughout the eras with his special ability to transcend space and time. He's charmed and saved countless people with his unique dance moves. Back in the year 1990, or about 500 years ago, there was another great crisis that nearly ended the world. His dance moves saved the world back then too. That incident in 1990 was also made into a game that same year!

Inside Scoop Behind Michael Jackson's Cameo Michael Jackson loved the demo of "Space Channel 5" when the Sega staff showed him. So much in fact, that he said, "I want to be in this game!" That marked the origin of Space Michael being in the game. Since the game was already in its final stages of development, he would only have a small role in it, but he still readily agreed to it. The game left such a good impression, that he dubbed the lines, "Ho!" and, "Thank you Ulala," himself. Later on, he sent his autograph to SEGA 9 Labs with the comment "I love the game."

Michael Jackson's Moonwalker

Sega Enterprises

Sega Genesis

August 25, 1990

6800 Yen

In this action game, Michael's spectacular dance moves are used to defeat the approaching enemies. When Michael takes a step, the enemy falls down after dancing, and the children are freed. Even Bubbles makes a brief appearance! Incidentally, there was also a movie with the same name.

p. 92

Control Room This is the part where you can free all the Morolians you’ve encountered during these past, amazing, reports. Best find a way to hold that controller comfortably, there’s a lot of buttons presses here and we don’t your fingers getting too tried, do we?

Act. 1 Dance It’s a bit dark, so it may be kinda hard to see the Morolians’ dance moves. But the sets are short, just listening to their voice should be enough. Most of the commands use the A button, so you really only need to focus on the timing. The back-to-back sets are pretty trick though, like a test of your rhythm skills.

Help Me! No. 64: Keyboard Gal >P. 113

p. 93

Act. 2 Shooting Making a mistake here won’t change a thing. By the 2nd set, the number of A button inputs needed will increase with each successive set. Sans the last set, the Morolians always appear on both sides of the screen, the timing for their inputs mirror each other too. Focus on how fast and many times you gotta press that A button! Count carefully and don’t over-press!

Help Us! No. 71: Leader Moro >P. 115 No. 72: Boss Moro >P. 115

Column: Illustrated Guide for Those Aiming for 100%: Best Route & Rescue Points To unlock all the character profiles, you need to pay attention to the stages Ulala will go through, and which character will appear there. We recommend using this route guide for success. During the 6th route, make sure to adjust the ratings to about 85% before entering the 3rd round of reports. For the 7th, lower it down to 75% before proceeding to the 8th route. When nearing the end of 8th route, raise it back to 90% and prepare for the Recording Studio for the 9th route. If you can rescue all the different characters in these places, you should be at 100%. By the way, you can save the elusive men, women, and boys in large numbers in certain areas. The following is for your reference.

Men, Women, and Boys Frequently Appear Here!

Report 1

Lobby 1F - Act. 2

Lobby 2F - Act. 1, Act. 2

Report 2

Dining Hall - Act. 1

Air Duct ~ Garbage Room - Act. 2

Report 4

Recording Studio - Act. 1, Act. 2

Best Route and the Rescue Amount

Route | Report Number | Minimum Ratings | Ratings Required for Branching Paths | Estimated Overall Ratings at the End | Rescuable Persons | Total Person | Total Percent 1 | Round 1, Report 1 | 15% | - | - | 20 persons | 20 persons | 25% 2 | Round 1, Report 2 | 25% | - | - | 17 persons | 37 persons | 46% 3 | Round 1, Report 3 | 45% | - | - | 08 persons | 45 persons | 56% 4 | Round 1, Report 4 | 70% | - | About 85 - 90 %| 14 persons | 59 persons | 74% 5 | Round 2, Report 1 - Lobby F2 | 70% | More than 90% | 90% - 99% | 08 persons | 67 persons | 84% 6 | Round 2, Report 2 - Air Duct | 70% | More than 90% | About 85% | 03 persons | 70 persons | 89% 7 | Round 3, Report 1 - Luggage Room  | 70% | 80 – 90% | About 75% | 01 persons | 71 persons | 91% 8 | Round 3, Report 2 - Dining Hall  | 70% | Less than 89% | - | 01 persons | 72 persons | 92% 9 | Round 2, Report 4 - Recording Studio  | 70% | More than 90% | About 90% | 06 persons | 78 persons | 100%

[Translator’s note: Men, Women, and Boys Frequently Appear Here! originally lists “Lobby 1F - Act. 1” and “Lobby 2F – Act. 2, Act. 3.” Act. 1 and Act. 3 of those respected areas do not align with the topic at hand so I assume these were errors and corrected them as such. It wouldn’t be the first time they listed the wrong Act. for a description. Sorry about the plain text formatting for this part.]

p. 94

Recording Studio This area can instantly transform into various sets. The dark colors and bright lights make for an intense atmosphere that muddles the difference between Morolians and Earthlings while shooting! Time to lean in more than usual!

Act. 1 Shooting Assuming you’ve been batting a 1000 with rescuing all different kinds of Earthings, you just gotta save the two newscasters here. Regardless of any mistakes made, they will always show up during the final set. If the studio’s bright lights make it difficult to see the Morolians, be sure to listen closely to their voices!

Help Us! No. 35: Newscaster (Male) >P. 108 No. 36: Newscaster (Female) >P. 108

p. 95

Act. 2 Shooting Their distance paired with the dark stage makes it difficult to distinguish the Earthlings and the Morolians from each other. Luckily the Morolian’s ray guns shine bright against the darkness, so use the A button for those who glow and B for those who don’t. Make mistakes in the first two sets, the Channel 5 Staff will appear during the 3rd.

Help Us! No. 33: Channel 5 Receptionist >P. 107 No. 34: Channel 5 Staff >P. 108

Act. 3 Dance For the 9th set, you can feel that wait between the "↓" on the 2nd beat "↑" on the 4th beat. But it still may feel jarringly shorter compared to the Morolian’s dance. On the 10th set, don't miss inputting the "↓" after the long wait between the 2nd and 4th beats! With so many complicated combinations of directional inputs, be sure to refer to this page to make sure your combo is right!

Help Me! No. 57: Space Kung-fu Man >P. 112

Column: Ulala's Shocking Report!? If you fail the final shots at the end of Report 4, the antenna will fall apart and the show will be cancelled. Ulala's "nah" paired with her expression is rumored to be the most adorable thing ever. A must-see!

p. 96

Main Antenna VS Evila and Giant Evila Versus Evila and her band of Security Robots, a mirror-match dance battle to see who's funky dance groove is superior! Is defeat inevitable!? Not only that, but the director has been taken hostage!

Act. 1, Act. 2 For the latter half Act.1, the key to victory is getting down the timing of those "pauses." You should get in the habit of saying "unun unun" to the beat, especially for the 9th and 10th sets. Act.2 has tons of back-to-back inputs. Even so, don’t rush yourself, you might end up pressing the wrong buttons. There's half-beat "uns" that you have to get spot on too!

Evila Height: About the same as Ulala Weight: About the same as Ulala Special: Same dancing abilities as Ulala

A.K.A.: An artificial reporter, whose sole purpose for reporting is earning ratings. Created by Morolian tech and data collected by Blank.

p. 97

Giant Evila Height: 164.8 Morometers (Est.) Weight: 10,300 Morograms (Est.) Special: Missile attack

The second fake Ulala robot. The Morolians were allowed to create whatever they pleased. Blank controls it as if it were a giant robotic pet.

Act. 1, Act. 2, Act. 3, Act. 4 Here Ulala must copy the opposite of what is said. In other words, if Giant Evila says “left chu” you go “right chu.” In Act. 1, there are more hearts than sets here, so use that an opportunity to get used to her pattern. The patten is irregular, but the rhythm and commands themselves are pretty easy. By the 4th set in Act. 3, it get a little difficult to keep your rhythm as the BGM fades out. If you want, you can try humming to the commands to stay on beat. By the way, once the chorus starts you'll be able to put inputs for Ulala again as usual, no need to go with the chorus's rhythm. *The commands listed below show what is needed to be inputted by Ulala.

p. 98

VS Blank At last, Blank's true brainwashing signal robot reveals itself. When it transforms, it becomes a powerful foe, attacking Ulala with its quick, bold dance moves. It's time for all of us to join forces and shoot down the greatest evil in the galaxy!

Act. 1 Blank and Ulala's faces will appear on the monitors above, below, left, and right of Blank. If it’s Blank, press the A button to attack, and if it's Ulala press the B button for the rescue beam! The 11th set of The Blank Dimension is tricky. Stay calm and wait for those one and half beats!

p. 99

Act. 2 Last stage incoming! There's only a few inputs and the rhythm is easy, your real enemy here is the tension. Still, avoid tripping over your own feet here, you only have so many hearts to spare. Don't be overwhelmed by Blank TV's dynamic dance, carefully listen to his voice and fight back!

Blank TV Height: About 37 meters (monitor form) /About 58 meters (humanoid form) Weight: 8350 kilograms (monitor and humanoid form) Special: Brainwashing beam, Blank Dimension

Blank TV attacks with 60 times its normal power insides the mysterious "Blank Dimension" it creates. It can also transform between the monitor form and the more puppet-like form.    

Last Shooting! Earthlings who were forced to dance, reporters who were treated like tools, Morolians who were manipulated… All of their Dance Energy is gathering into the antenna! Just like the past final shots, press A powerfully three times, "Chu! Chu! Chu!" Let's finish this off with a bang!

Column: Blank's Last Stand Did you notice that once you defeat Blank TV, the last line he says is "I’ll be baaaack," but in the Extra Mode it's "You'll regret thiiiis"? Maybe Blank is hinting at even more extra stages existing after this! (A lie)

[Translator’s notes: Blank literally says “See you next week” in Japanese. “I’ll be back” is what he says in the English version. By the way, in Part 2, Purge says the same lines.]

[inukag-archive]

Favorite story where for some reason Kagome become demon/hanyou?

You got it, anon! Here’s a list of stories where Kagome either starts off as or becomes demon/hanyou. Happy reading!

The Little Human by Silken Ink (M)

She is willing to break all the rules, leave everything behind, even give up her own voice...and maybe her very soul... for the freedom to be herself, to see beyond the walls of her tiny world, and to choose to stand by the side of the one she loves. Will Kagome find love and life, or will she fail and be consumed?

--

Metamorphosis by King Baka (E)

"Sometimes in the winds of change we find our true direction." An unusual youkai attack transforms Kagome's very being. Can she come to terms with her new self, and can Inuyasha accept, perhaps even love, the new Kagome?

--

Holding Out for a Hero by @lavendertwilight89 (E)

Inuyasha has always lived alone until the new lord of the Western Lands banished all kinds of beings onto his lands. Now he is tasked with rescuing a princess from a dragon for the lord can marry her. But what happens when they fall in love along with way?

--

Two Sides of the Same Moon by SailorChibi (T)

After participating in a ritual to save Inuyasha's life, newly hanyou Kagome awakens to find herself trapped on her side of the well. But the story isn't over... it's just continuing in a different way in a new time with the same players as before.

--

Through Another’s Eyes by @that-one-nerdy-gal (T)

All a witch wanted was some peace and quite, but apparently that's too much to ask for these days. Especially when a specific silver haired young hanyou and his strangely dressed companion start a screaming match. This witch is about to teach this "so-obviously-in-love-but-won't-admit-it" couple a lesson in actually listening to each other!

--

Shattered and Remade by Gypsyn (M)

Naraku's new demon wields the power to attack the soul directly. His target? Kagome. The attack leaves her barely alive and her soul shattered. Now the only way to save her is if Inuyasha agrees to share a bit of his soul and healing ability with her. But the spell is more binding than anyone anticipated and shows him more of his miko than he ever thought he'd see.

--

The B Word by TheMondayChild (E)

Two half-demons during mating season. What will happen? I think we all know.

--

For Him by Silken Ink (M)

Learn archery, become a priestess, learn patience in the face of unrequited love, fight a crazy zombie ex-girlfriend, get beaten up by flying monkeys, turn into a demon …. there was nothing Kagome wouldn't do …. for him. This is a re-imagining and rearranging of the original plot line, with more romance and a few new elements thrown in for funzies.

--

Turnabout is Fair Play by Ookami-chan (M)

A hazy night and a mysterious tattoo somehow turn out to be the perfect way to balance the odds.

--

Miko Malice by Emilyblood (M)

Trying to escape tension with his family, Inuyasha finds himself gambling at a seedy tavern. When he wins more than he bargained for, our hanyou is forced to befriend a young nekohanyou slave named Kagome who is more than she appears to be.

--

The Captain and the Hanyo by @goshinote (T)

In a world in which youkai have been forced into hiding after the Great War, Captain Higurashi is known as one of the cruelest youkai-hunting pirates. After Captain Higurashi kidnaps Inuyasha, a prized hanyo, a plan is set in motion. Inuyasha will find out Captain Higurashi is nothing like the stories say, and he will discover that nothing is truly as it seems...

--

In the Beholder’s Eye by Sarga (T)

Naraku is dead, the jewel is whole. A wish takes place leaving Kagome in a lifealtering situation. How will everyone react? AN: Story includes all main characters. No explicit content.

--

A Monk’s Curse, A Cat’s Cure by @mrfeenysmustache (T)

Inuyasha is a humble monk learning to devote his life to faith and the service of others, until his fellow monks turn on him for daring to befriend a yokai. Woken up after being sealed away for 500 years, he’s out of time and out of place, until a sweet, friendly Hanyo with an even sweeter family give him a new place to belong.

--

Aftereffects by osuwariboy (T)

The last battle with Naraku has been fought and the jewel is finally complete. With Miroku and Sango down for the count, can Inuyasha and Kagome prevent the jewel from falling into the hands of evil once again?

--

Evolution Charm by BonaFideGarbage (M)

When Inuyasha meets a female half-demon named Kagome, his viewpoint on the world is suddenly changed, but is there more to this half-demon that even she doesn't know about? SlightAU, Inu/Kag, lemon, foul language, etc... You've been warned!

--

Kagome a Hanyou? by Clouds of the Sky (T)

Kikyo has discovered Kagome's secret. In a attempt to turn Inuyasha against Kagome she brings that secret to light. What does Inuyasha think of Kagome now that he found out she lied to him? What do their friends think?

[sayosdreams]

Out of the shadows

Word Count: 1132

Throne of Glass Masterlist

__________

A/N: Thank you so much for 500 followers! Here's a little fic I've been saving. I hope you enjoy!

Shoutout to @simpingfornestaarcheron for helping me out with this one :) Also shoutout to the dialogue prompt I found online (it's in bold in the fic). And again, shoutout to you for reading this!

(P.S. Yes there will be a part 2 if you guys like it)

His eyes were filled with tears that threatened to spill over at any moment.

“I can’t believe this. I thought… I thought you loved me.” His voice was shaky. She’d never heard Rowan sound so fragile.

“I did- I do!” Aelin answered quickly, begging him to understand.

“Then why would you lie about us? Why would you try to hide our relationship like some dirty little secret?” His voice was gruff. “Aelin, are you ashamed of us?”

“What? No! No, of course not!” Aelin took a shuddering breath. “Rowan, you know I love you. I just can’t risk announcing our relationship right now, with the election right around the corner. I have no idea how it would affect voters’ view of me or how the press will react and it’ll most certainly take away from the media coverage I want about my policies and my rallies.”

Aelin’s blue-gold eyes met her boyfriend’s silvery ones, hoping desperately that she’d see recognition and understanding in them. Rowan had always supported her, encouraging her to pursue this dream of hers no matter what life threw her way. He’d helped her collect signatures and donations for her campaign. He’d personally called in favors to put together a crew to design the ads. He’d spent countless hours passing out flyers, helping her design her website, and prepping her for radio interviews. Yet now, all Aelin could see in Rowan’s eyes was disappointment and betrayal.

“Is your image really more important than us?” Rowan whispered, his eyes so soft that it made Aelin want to cry. Rowan had had a tough time opening up at the beginning of their relationship. He had lost both his parents at a young age, and had been shuffled around relatives’ homes. He’d fallen into a bad crowd as he attempted to navigate his depression and his lack of stability, turning to alcohol and petty crime as a crutch. When his girlfriend got pregnant at 18, however, Rowan had decided to clean his life up and had gotten his act together. He’d dedicated himself to supporting his girlfriend, Lyria, and their daughter, Kiara. Five years later, he’d come home to find Lyria’s stuff gone from their apartment and a two-line note from her informing him that they needed to break up and that she was moving out immediately. When he called her to understand what was going on, she told him that she’d been cheating on him for the past year and a half, and that she would now be living with her new boyfriend. The ensuing legal battle for shared custody hadn’t been pretty.

It had taken a long time for Rowan to trust people again, but they’d somehow gotten there. Aelin and Rowan knew almost everything there was to know about each other, from their favorite board games to their childhood trauma to their most far-fetched dreams. The vulnerability and openness in Rowan’s expression reminded Aelin of just how far they’d come — and how much she stood to lose.

Aelin wished she could answer that she didn’t give a damn about her image and that her love for Rowan was more important than anything else in the world, but she couldn’t. Her whole life, she had wanted to have the ability to make the world a better place. She couldn’t let the dream slip through her fingers now, when she was so close to making it a reality.

In Aelin’s fantasy world, Rowan’s past wouldn’t matter to voters. They’d see him and his daughter and fawn over how incredible they were. They’d view Rowan as an inspirational story of how to turn your life around. But Aelin wasn’t that naive. She knew that people were judgemental and would only see him as an ex-alcoholic with a criminal record and a child born out of wedlock.

Rowan inhaled sharply, and the sound pierced Aelin’s heart. Her silence in response to Rowan’s question had been telling.

“I’m sorry,” Rowan said, finally. “I can’t be with someone who views me, or Kiara, as baggage.”

Aelin blinked in shock. “N-no,” she stuttered, “Of course I don’t view you that way! I just can’t reveal our relationship to the media just yet but- I will soon! I swear! I just need this election season and then-”

Rowan shook his head. “No, Aelin. We both know life in politics isn’t that simple. There’s always something else: approval ratings and endorsements and party politics and re-elections. It’ll never be the right time.”

“Please,” she whispered. “I love you.”

“I know,” he answered. A tear slipped down his cheek. “I love you too. That’s why I’m letting you go.” He attempted a smile. “Now you won’t have anything to hide from your constituents, yeah?”

Aelin stepped closer to him. “Rowan, no, that’s not what I want at all. I want-”

“I’m sorry, Aelin,” Rowan swallowed the lump in his throat. “I can’t- I can’t be the skeleton in your closet. It’s not fair to either of us and… I can’t let this go on any further. Kiara’s already getting too attached to you.”

Aelin could sense the words Rowan refused to say — that he, too, was getting too attached to her. He wanted to leave now, before he was unable to live without her, because if he waited for her to break his heart, it would be far too devastating. Too bad Aelin was already unable to live without him.

“Rowan.” A tear slipped down her face. There were so many things she wanted to say. Of course she wasn’t ashamed of him — she was so proud of him for choosing to get better, every single day. He was her hero. He inspired her to believe that people could change and that the world could change, no matter how impossible it seemed. And Kiara… Aelin wanted to make the world a better place for Kiara and all the other little girls who were dealt a tough hand and yet were so full of hope and potential. She wanted to create a future where they could thrive and do anything they wished and be themselves, without ever having to worry about sexism or racism or homophobia or other forms of bigotry and oppression. She wanted them to be able to dance under a star-studded sky without having to worry about their safety. She wanted them to be able to dress however they wished, love whomever they loved, and laugh as loudly as they wanted.

Rowan’s thumb caressed her cheek, brushing away her tears. He pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead. Aelin shut her eyes and inhaled his scent, which she’d come to associate with strength and calm and love. If she could bottle it, she’d name the perfume ‘home’.

He pulled away, shattering the illusion.

“Goodbye, Aelin.”

“Goodbye, Rowan.”

__________

Part 2

__________

Permanent taglist:

@maastrash // @cass-nes // @verypaleninja // @courtofjurdan // @claralady // @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter // @stardelia // @laylaameer01 // @thewayshedreamed // @thatsowlmazing // @vasudharaghavan // @jungtaekwoonie-is-life // @rowaelinismyotp // @bakingandbooks3 // @grandma-noob-lord // @awesomelena555 // @starksravings // @bookstantrash // @ireallyshouldsleeprn // @illyrianshadowhunter // @swankii-art-teacher // @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks // @moodymelanist // @nestaspegasus // @superspiritfestival // @perseusannabeth // @my-fan-side // @that-golden-lyre // @emily-gsh //@champanheandluxxury // @simpingfornestaarcheron // @duskandstarlight // @ladynestaarcheron // @sv0430 // @friendswithkevin // @inkedstarlight // @notmewrongbitch // @letstakethedawn // @arinbelle // @dontgetsalmonella // @furybearunknown // @nesquik-arccheron (Let me know if you want to be added or removed!)

[nehemia-deserved-better]

Elorcan deserved about 500 more chapters all to themselves, so I decided to write one of them. I intended this story to be as canon-compliant as possible, so that it could plausibly be considered an extra Elorcan chapter in Empire of Storms. It would be set a day after their fight over Lorcan killing the ship owner in chapter 43, and before the next time we see them where Elide claims to have not spoken to him for 3 days. 

So without further ado: How The Light Gets In

The nightmare began at the top of a stone stair. Elide’s heavy, uneven footfalls echoed ominously in the tight space as she descended, spiraling down into the fetid air of the dungeons. The chains snaking around her ankles rattled and slithered with each step. Yet it was not that sound which frightened Elide; it was the cacophony of despair emanating from below. Women’s voices: moaning, screaming, and—worst of all— pleading. She tried to flee back up the stair, but a phantom hand seized her chains and sent her pitching headlong into the unforgiving stone. Her fingernails splintered and bled as she scrabbled for purchase, fighting to crawl away from that horrible noise. But the pull on her chains was relentless. Elide was dragged downwards into that ocean of misery, each voice crashing over her until she was drowning in sound, unable to distinguish her own screams.

—————

Lorcan stood at the prow of the ship, illuminated by the light of the stars, and cursed his keen fae hearing. He couldn’t block out the soft whimpers coming from within the ship’s cabin, or the rustling of a small form tossing under the blankets. He didn’t want to know that Elide was having a nightmare, didn’t want to care. After all, why should he? Pathetic she had called him, nearly spitting the words in disgust. Jealous, lonely, pathetic, unhappy—each insult flung from her with greater conviction than the last. And when she had finally finished, face mottled red in rage and chest heaving, he couldn’t even muster a convincing facade of anger. Instead, as he looked down on that tiny, furious woman, he felt only admiration and a surprising amount of desire. When was the last time someone had dared speak to him with such candor? He had killed males for lesser offenses, and she knew it. And yet, she remained stubbornly unafraid. 

But when she had followed that outburst with a demand to leave the ship, to leave him... Lorcan realized belatedly that the gut-wrenching sensation he'd felt then had been fear. He tilted his head up to look at the stars, admonishing himself for that weakness. This human should not have such power over him. Still, he knew he would not allow this fierce creature out of his sight. He wanted more of her. He wanted to feel her thick, dark hair between his fingers, and to do more with that red mouth than just gaze at it. But mostly, he wanted more of her passion, honesty, and bravery— her ability to see right through to the core of him with those cunning eyes. Lorcan found himself striding for the cabin door before he could think better of it.             

—————

It is a peculiarity of nightmares to seamlessly blend one horror into the next, forgoing transitions in exchange for an unending montage of terror. And so, Elide suddenly found herself standing at the base of the stair. She pressed her palms over her ears to no avail; nothing could block out that endless, many-voiced wailing. A long hall lined with torches and iron doors stretched out before her. She knew what lay beyond those doors, though her mind recoiled from the thought of witches and alters and demons. In the flickering light of the fires stood a ghostly woman draped in black. Kaltain raised a finger to her lips and, as though by her command, a curtain of silence fell over the hall. Elide didn't spare a moment to be relieved. She stepped toward Kaltain, trying to tell her that they must run, that they weren’t safe here. No words passed her lips— they never did, in her dreams. The Lady merely stared at her. “You can’t save them. Only I can do that now.” Elide furrowed her brow in confusion, prompting a breathy laugh from Kaltain. “Don’t you remember? Or did you forget about my sacrifice so easily?” Her lips split wide in a mockery of a smile, her mouth opening and opening until the flesh peeled away completely. Beneath, shrugging off Kaltain’s skin like an oversized coat, was a pale woman with blood red lips. “And what of my sacrifice, my darling girl? What became of me?” Elide reached for her mother, but she crumbled to ash between her fingers.  

—————

Lorcan’s breath caught as he laid eyes on Elide sleeping fretfully in the narrow cabin bed. The blankets were twisted around her legs, becoming thoroughly tangled as she continued to shift in agitation. A sheen of sweat glimmered at the base of her throat. Distress was clear in her expression, despite her face being partially obscured by her disheveled hair. Lorcan had no idea what to do. He wanted to soothe her and provide comfort, but he had no experience with such things. Besides, if Elide’s resolute silence of the previous day was any indication, she would likely not welcome his presence. And yet, he found himself unable to walk away, as though some gravity beyond his control were pulling them together. 

Gently, Lorcan reached down and brushed the loose strands of hair from her face, smoothing them behind her ear. His hand lingered for a moment, brushing against her cheek. He marveled at how small she seemed under his broad palms. She stirred, and he quickly retracted his fingers, scolding himself for his stupidity. How incensed would she be to wake and find him standing over her? He began to turn away. 

“Stay.” The word was a single breath, so quiet that Lorcan was fairly certain it was a hallucination brought on by wishful thinking. But then it came again, soft as a prayer, “stay.” He simply stared at her. Elide didn’t even seem to be awake. It was very possible that she was speaking to someone in her dream, utterly unaware of his presence. Just as he was convincing himself of this, a hand lightly grasped his own. Her fingers were so little in his, delicate like the bones of a bird. But he knew the strength that lay there, knew she had calluses and scars to mirror his own. Lorcan softly lowered himself to sit on the edge of the bed, Elide's hand still in his. He wasn’t used to holding something with such care, not with these hands that had wrought so much death. He found that he liked the change. 

“Elide?” he whispered. No response. “Are you awake?” Her eyes remained closed but she spoke slowly in reply.

“Lorcan...You’re not usually here.”

“In the cabin?”

“In my dreams.”

 He took a moment to absorb that blow to his male ego. Before he could think of a suitable response, Elide was tugging on his hand, trying to pull him closer. Lorcan was conflicted. She was clearly not fully awake, hovering in the limbo of her dreams. As much as he wanted nothing more than to lay down and pull her close, to see just how well the curves of her body fit with his own, it didn’t seem right to take advantage of her hazy consciousness. And in addition, there was no way his massive frame would fit on that bed with her unless she was nearly on top of him. He struggled to divert his imagination away from that particular path of thought.

When he looked back at her face, he was startled to find her eyes wide open. The gaze that met his own was clear, apparently awake. “Stay,” she repeated, and the last of his reservations disappeared. She scooted up against the wall, occupying the narrowest strip of bed possible. After some adjusting of bodies and untangling of blankets, Lorcan wound up on his back. His shoulders took up the entire width of the bed, and still he was precariously close to the edge. Elide was pressed between his body and the wall, her limbs sprawled out across him: an arm resting on his chest, a leg bent up over his own, her foot pressed between his calves. Gingerly, he slid his arm underneath her head, providing his bicep as a pillow. 

“I thought you were still angry with me,” he grumbled.

“I am. I don’t think I’ll ever speak to you again, because you are a cruel bastard,” she responded sleepily, snuggling closer. Lorcan had gone past the point of confusion and was now hovering somewhere in the realm of utter bewilderment.

“I’ll find a way to manage without you.” Why could he never find the right thing to say to her? 

“No, you won’t, because you promised.” She paused there for a yawn. “As mysterious as you think you are, I know that promise matters to you... that I matter to you. Why else would I dream of you after a nightmare?” She yawned, more pronounced than the first time. When she began speaking again her voice was thick with exhaustion. “I know I’m safe with you. I know that you will protect me.” And with that, she was fully asleep once more. Not a trace of the nightmare remained on her face, and her breathing was deep and untroubled.  

Lorcan could only stare at the top of her head, stunned. Despite how lucid she seemed, she had clearly still been half in the grip of her dreams. But her words, her absolute confidence in him, the comfort she had found in his arms...He had never experienced this before. Receiving affection without sex or motive, soothing fear instead of creating it— this was all uncharted territory. Something in him fractured with astounding force. It was as though every place their bodies touched was cracking open and she was the light pouring in, pushing back all that darkness he had gathered throughout the centuries. He had no word to name this feeling coursing through his blood, but he couldn’t remember the last time he felt so unburdened. He pressed his lips to the top of her head and whispered “I will always keep you safe”. Then, he laid his cheek atop her hair and listened to her breathe for a long while before he fell asleep.      

—————

Elide woke to the smell of cooking trout, and the soft sound of water lapping against the boat. Even through her closed lids she could see that daylight was pouring through the windows of the cabin, meaning she must have slept very late into the morning. She rolled over with a groan and reached out a hand for...for whom? Was she expecting to find someone in her bed? Sitting fully upright now, she looked around in confusion. She’d had a very strange dream. Lady Kaltain had been there, in the dungeons of Morath… she shuddered at the memory, both of the dream and its real-life inspiration. She’d vomited for days after she saw behind those iron doors, and had no desire to recollect the specifics either awake or asleep. 

But then she’d left the dungeon and arrived in the ship’s cabin, where her fear-addled brain had conjured an image of the only true safety she had known for the last decade: Lorcan. A soft smile graced her face at the thought, quickly replaced by a grimace as she remembered him killing that man, and their resulting fight. He provided safety for her, perhaps, but he brought only death to those who got in his way. Her thoughts lingered on the barge owner who had once slept in this bed, dutifully cleaned the cabin windows, adorned the small table with an embroidered cloth— she bolted out of the bed and through the door, suddenly needing to be anywhere else.

Fingers gripping the ship’s railing so tight that her knuckles threatened to pop out, Elide leaned into the wind off the river water. Lorcan may well have saved both their lives by ending that man’s. An innocent bystander he may have seemed, but one likely to jump at the chance to profit from their capture. Lorcan had done it, as he seemed to do everything these days, to protect her. 

That thought brought her back to her dream. It had been so real. She could recall the way his breath had stirred her hair, the feeling of his muscular chest under her fingers and his considerable bicep cushioning her head, how she had confidently declared how much he cared for her— she stopped as though her thoughts had crashed into a stone wall. She felt the blood drain from her face. She never, never spoke in her dreams. 

A gentle tap on her shoulder had her shouting in surprise; Lorcan couldn’t normally sneak up on her, to his eternal annoyance, but she had been too deep in thought to notice his approach. Wordlessly, he held out a plate of trout. He betrayed no expression beyond a slight quirk of the eyebrows, likely in reaction to having a small woman scream at him in a pitch only bats and immortal demi-fae could hear. Elide studied the harsh planes of his face as she accepted the food in silence. She found nothing there to suggest she had spent the night curled in his arms. He seemed to be examining her expression as well. His lips parted, as though there was something he wanted to say, but something in her face seemed to convince him to remain quiet. With a soft shake of the head and a furrow in his brow, he turned away.     

As he walked back toward the prow, she let out a sigh of relief. It had just been a dream. She felt an unexpected disappointment at the thought. It was harmless to admire his power and strength from a distance, or to feel sparks of desire as his gaze slid to her lips every damn time they spoke, but to spend the night in his arms? She watched him tirelessly propelling the boat  with a long pole, his dark hair sticking to his neck in the hot midday sun. No, it had been a dream, and that’s all it would ever be...right?            

Thanks for sticking around all the way till the end! It would mean a lot if you would comment and let me know what you think of my first ever fanfiction :)                      

[chaosangel767]

Pyrrhic - Angst

Fandom: Ikemen Revolution

Prompt: Pyrrhic - A victory won at to great of a cost

Tw: Major Character deaths, Angst 

Word Count:1735

The air is bitter and cold matching the mood of the group of people gathered in front of the Civic Center. A large cloth is draped over a monument and the clouds are heavy. No one in the crowd is smiling, and while there are hundreds of people in the crowd, there is no cheerful sound, just hushed whispers. Three men mount the stage next to the cloth. The two Kings of Cradle and the record keeper, all dressed in formal wear. The little noise of the crowd dies away as the Record keeper starts to speak into the crystal mic. 

“Citizens of Cradle, today marks the day one year ago that 75 people gave their lives to protect Cradle from the shadows and ended the 500 years of fighting and bloodshed.” Blanc starts to open the ceremony, his voice solemn as he begins to speak, the two Kings on either side of him had lowered heads, grief from the day one year ago still fresh in their minds. 

“Today we remember these brave souls who risked everything they had to make sure that Cradle continued on. Today we remember Zero the Ace of Hearts, Fenrir Godspeed the Ace of Spades, Seth Hyde the 10 of Spades, Loki Genetta the Cheshire Cat, Alice the second…” There isn’t another sound in all of Cradle as Blanc rattles off the names of the 75 people that died, everyone’s head is bowed, the first row of the crowd is dedicated to the officers who fought, the deaths still fresh in their minds.  

The record Keeper stood in front of Cradle with an even voice and a calm demeanor, but he can still see the bloody aftermath the central quarter was in after the fight. The tower had figured out the plan at the last moment, and ambushed the unexpecting armies, a huge explosion went off injuring many of the citizens of Cradle and destroying a lot of the Central Quarter, Cradle’s famous inventor was still recovering. Blanc looks into the crowd where Oliver Knight was sitting, his face was scarred with the aftermath of the explosion and his arm had finally been released from its cast after months of trying to heal it.

Blanc looks over to where the King of Spades is standing, glancing down at the floor of the stage, pain and grief evident on his face. The image of a second explosion in the Forbidden forest fresh in his mind, Ray watches helplessly as Alice jumps in front of the armies with her kind smile and not an ounce of fear in her face. She managed to cast enough of a barrier over most of Cradle, negating the magic explosion and casting out the innate magic users in Cradle, saving their lives. The grieving King finally looks up, his gaze landing where his best friend and partner in crime would have sat, the vacant seat tears a hole in his heart. He looks down at his clasped hands, still seeing the blood that drenched his uniform. It should have been me. He quietly thought, remembering seeing the pain his best friend was in after taking the hit for his King. “Cradle needs you boss, it's not your time” Fenrir’s choked words and faint smile seared in the back of Ray’s head, his heart heavy as he remembered the fading magenta eyes. It wasn’t your time either buddy. You should be here causing chaos, it's hard to run Cradle without you. 

Ray shifts his gaze to his right, eyeing the second King of Cradle, the King of Hearts, who is standing tall, not a hint of emotion on his face, but under the cold mask there swirled a turbulence of regret, grief and anger. He gazes steadily across the crowd, thinking how only a few officers know the full scale of the war. The civilians only know that there was a group of terrorists and criminals who launched an attack on Cradle and that both armies and the sweet, caring Alice helped fight off the criminals, no one knew that the criminals were in fact the Magic tower, that is the secret the Army must bear alone. He should have been more careful and maybe the magic tower wouldn't have found out what was going on. He remembers the cruel smirk on Amon’s face as he made Lancelot watch the explosion from the tower, the way the smoke rose from the central quarter. Lancelot looks down at his hands, burns and scars covering his hands from where he lost control of his rage and collapsed the tower, taking the mad leader and disciples with him.  

Lancelot’s eyes drift from surveying the crowd to landing on his forever injured, but Faithful Queen. Jonah sat straight and proper as ever, not letting an ounce of shame fill him. The brave Queen had managed to find Lancelot and covered him from the explosion, costing him his legs, but saving his King. Jonah still acts like his usual self, only in the darkness of night does he let down his walls and reveal how frustrated he is, it is all his fault. He needed to save his King, he should have been there earlier and the tower wouldn’t have collapsed. Jonah meets the King's eyes and the two exchange a darkened gaze. 

The Jack of Hearts has jade eyes cast down to his belt where his fallen protege’s sword now lays. He runs his fingers along the hilt, not sure how to process the memories and pain he is feeling inside. The memory of his student taking the hit for him still makes his blood run cold. Taking one of his pristine white gloves off he runs his bare fingers against Zero’s blade, the cold metal does nothing to quell the aching in his heart. The gentle demon is no longer gentle, the kind smile he once wore no matter the situation now is a grim line on his face.  I should have told you how much I cared. I should have protected you more.

Next to the Jack of Hearts is the forever drunk medic, Kyle. His topaz eyes hold more sorrow, and everyday his heart grows a little heavier. He should have tried harder, if he was better at his job so many lives wouldn’t have been lost. He looks down at his hands, they should have been clean of bloodshed, but they hold more bloodshed than anyone in Cradle. He clenches his fists, turning over his hands and hiding them in his sleeves. I wasn’t good enough to save them, I am not worthy of saving anyone anymore. His eyes unfocused, he pulls a bottle from his pocket and takes a drink, the burning taste of alcohol slides down his throat and he hangs his head, still being haunted by the lifeless eyes of his friends. 

A man sits between the two armies, pain showing in his one eye. Harr Silver, the new leader of the Magic tower. Harr has barely spoken a word outside of Tower business since the fight. He was the one who gave Alice the crystals telling her it would help enhance her power, how was he going to know she would sacrifice herself? His eyes lower to the ground as he sees her body bathed in light, he should have known, her soul pure and selfless. He should have stopped her from absorbing the explosion. He looks down to the simple crystal around his neck, the crystal he gave her, the one she could have used to save herself, but instead she chose to save Cradle. The second crystal on his necklace belonged to his young apprentice, the one whose mischievous mismatched eyes he would never see again. He runs his fingers along the crystal, should he have helped them? If he helped them with the barrier maybe one of them would still be alive. 

Sirius the gentle Queen of Spades sits next to the quiet wizard and looks down still seeing the blood from the fallen Seth on his hands. If he had only been a few minutes faster, then Dalim wouldn’t have stabbed him in the back. Sirius clenches his hands and grits his jaw against the tears at hearing Seth's final strangled words apologizing for betraying the black army running over and over through his head. Sirius clenches his hand tighter, noticing the scars on his arm and seeing the invisible scar on his stomach from the fights, he looks up to the sky. Seth, I am so sorry, I should have been faster. 

Next to Sirius sits the quiet Jack of Spades, Luka. The shy and aloof Jack was now even more shy and aloof, he runs his unit and still cooks dinner, but he no longer seems to care about much else. He doesn’t enjoy cooking as much as he did when Alice was here to taste his food, her smile lighting up the kitchen as she helped him think up new recipes to try. Every night he still trains, his time asleep even less than before, his dreams plagued by the one he never said goodbye to, the one who should have been sent home. He can hear her words the night before the battle, when they argued about whether she should fight, the determination in her eyes as she demands to help. Cradle is my home now, I couldn’t possibly leave knowing you guys could get hurt. When you care about people it hurts to see them hurt. Luka fights back the tears escaping his vision, he traces the necklace in his hands, the one he gave her. He wasn’t strong enough when he needed to be and now she was gone. His amber gold eyes find their way up to the sky as he thinks of his friend now flying high. 30 days wasn’t enough time with you, eternity wouldn’t have been. 

 The 7 officers all look to the brand new memorial, to the names of the fallen. Cradle won, Cradle was safe, but the cost of the victory was high. The lives lost that day gave Cradle the ability to move on and live. The love paid the way for us remaining to love our families, laugh with our friends and spend our days doing what we loved. The war was won, Cradle was safe, but was the cost of victory worth it?

[infinites-chaser]

//.reverie // mlqc // lucien

print(hello world)

im knee deep in a writing slump bUT i plugged a paragraph of writing into this funky little neural network and kept generating 500 words with it for. an aBSURD amount of time (while also telling it to focus on including the words ‘memory’ ‘dreams’ and ‘color’) and what it spit out was the cOOLEST. and i tried to kinda parse through it to find the most interesting bits and make it slightly more coherent and it ended up being a little like how i’d imagine a series of dreams Lucien might’ve had post ch.18 so i hope someone? enjoys?

warning for non-explicit drug use, general fragmentATion and lack of narrative plot or coherence, the bizarre nature of dreams, spoiler-adjacent content for ch.13 and hinting at stuff from ch.18 onwards

The paragraph the neural network consumed (from watch the universe expand):

"You know, sometimes I think the stars must be lonely," she says, and though he doesn't dare look at her, he hears her both in real life and through the phone speaker cradled close to his ear. He feels rather than sees her move closer to his side of the balcony, closing the distance, coming to the edge.

"They're thousands of light years away from each other," she continues. "Maybe they wonder if they're all alone, sometimes, if they're the only light for miles in an empty, endless dark sea."

"It makes me sad, to think about it. We spend our lives looking up at the stars and casting lines, drawing constellations between them, but in reality, they're just as lonely as we are. Maybe even more."

prelude.

In his dreams, he has color for days, but that's because his memories are always colored with color. He remembers the colors of all the colors, he knows it, because colors fade in real life, colors can be rearranged. They stay the same in dreams. He remembers colors and faces in dreams, with absolute certainty.

He stands up and steps away from the glass, out onto the balcony. As the darkness reaches all the way to the bottom of the floor, he sees shadows in his mind. He recognizes the colors, the colors of dreams, as colors of real life. He can tell his memory is broken in his dreams, with such clarity that he could read an entire newspaper front page through color and dreams.

(He takes a step closer to the blue sky.)

i.

He remembers when he had first been able to see the constellations in the night sky, just a few short years ago, when his eyesight still had the capability to take in so much. They'd wanted to go to a star party, together, where he could be amazed by a whole world of constellations, but he'd turned it down.

"You were scared of strangers," she says. "It's not a strangers-only thing."

"That's true," he says.

"You're still shy," she says.

"I never was shy,” he says.

I never really grew up, he thinks.

ii.

He feels her warm breath. The scent of her.

"Do you think they look down at us and feel the loneliness of millions of years alone?"

"The stars? I've always imagined they might."

“Do you think they wonder about us, too? Or feel sorry for us?”

He scoffs.

“What’s there to wonder about?”

She shrugs. Her eyes look as distant as the stars. As cold.

"The sadness of losing one's entire species and the companionship of someone who sees and understands the beauty of the stars because of what we lost. Or the loneliness of knowing our species won't survive the disaster we caused."

“What do you mean,” he starts. Her lips curve up into a mockery of a smile.

“You know what,” she breathes. “Ares.”

(He wakes. Calls the dampness on his cheeks a nightmare’s cold sweat and not tears.)

iii.

He shrugs.

“We forget, don’t we? The world moves on. We move on.”

"That's not the way it is,” she says. “The best love in life comes from time spent with another person, the love that never fades or leaves you in darkness, like memories do. Sometimes, it's not the love we give each other but the love we receive from each other. I don't know, I guess the answer would depend on the person."

"Maybe the stars never forget their dreams,” she says. “Or the people they knew, or their color. Maybe they never lose the ability to recognize and remember what they're drawn to. Or maybe they can never forget the color of your eyes."

iii, ii.

“We forget, don’t we? The world moves on. We move on.”

(Do we? He thinks. Thinks they’ve been here, standing atop this balcony before. Thinks he's seen her eyes turn cold. Thinks he's seen her cry.)

He shrugs.

"No," she says quietly, but softly, still looking at the stars, still thinking about the comfort she gave him. (It's never enough, always, to fill the emptiness, the longing, the memories that must remain buried inside him.)

"I don't believe that. I know that the stars up there are as lonely as us, because they're like us, they love each other, they care for each other, they care for us, and love keeps us warm in the cold. Love is the one thing that can save us."

"You're right," he says. (Holds her close. Wishes he could do the same while awake.)

"Love really can save us. I have faith in that. No matter what happens, no matter what we do, we have to find ways to love each other and hold on to each other."

v.

"Do you remember the dreams you've had about the colors, or the faces of the people in the colors?"

She laughs softly. "I can never forget you, or your color, or the color of that sky in your memories, now. But that picture might look a little different in the morning light. Right now, I can't see it very well. You know, sometimes it's hard to remember what color the sky looks like in your memory when it's bright outside. It doesn't really feel like a real memory. You've said that yourself, at least."

"No, I haven't," he says. "It's just a memory."

"A memory?" she asks.

"A memory?" she repeats. “It’s always memories with you.”

He can't tell if she's laughing or not, or if she's teasing him or not.

“What do you mean?”

"It’s a secret,” she says. “You could always just ask me in real life.”

(I can’t, he thinks, but can’t say. Can't remember why.

He wakes.)

vi.

"Color?" she repeats. "Color?"

"Yes," he says. "You're color. You're always ... different, in my memories."

She laughs. "Maybe that's a good thing. Maybe we remember our lives as they were, not what we wish they were. Maybe that means we can forgive ourselves a little more.”

"For what?"

(She's frozen.

She fades.

For what? He thinks, then wakes.)

vii.

"I think I have colors for months in my memory," she says. "See here?"

"What?"

"Colors. In the moon, or this tree, or maybe the sky?"

"You mean right now?"

"No. All of them, at one time or another."

"What color is the sky?"

She laughs, and her voice is beautiful. She tells him that the sky looks the color of memories and dreams.

But then he asks another question. "When you dreamed last night, what did you dream about?”

"I can't remember all of them," she says. “My dreams. They fade.”

"But you do remember that you were dreaming, back there?"

"I was dreaming. About you."

"Why?"

"I don't know. All I know is that the dream felt like a good one."

"It must have been, if you remember it. Did you have the same dreams when you were growing up?"

"Yes," she whispers. "Sometimes."

(“Sometimes I think we must’ve met in one.”

“What?”

“A dream."

"That'd be nice, wouldn't it?")

viii.

“The stars,” she murmurs. “Do you think they dream? Do you think they can escape?"

"Perhaps they can, to some extent," se says. "I'm not sure it works for everyone."

She asks him to step into the blue sky with her. To escape. To return.

"Can you go back? I haven't asked anyone to go back yet, but maybe you can."

He takes a step, closing his eyes. He remembers the color of this blue sky, and he remembers dreaming and dreaming. He remembers colors, and colors are real, so they must be real in real life. So he steps forward into the blue sky.

His skin stretches and stretches and stretches, the colors in his skin growing more vivid as he steps further, he gets closer to the sky. The colors disappear in his memory, which can still contain dreams, so that his skin looks almost white, at first. His body elongates until he looks like he's wearing a strange version of a spacesuit, like the one his friends wore when they had to wear oxygen masks on the surface of planets and robots to stay alive.

He hears his echo. It’s saying that he looks lonely. Pale blue dot— he'll drift through space, he'll miss her in the dark, or he won't but he'll be too late, anyway.

It's hard to figure out which colors in the blue sky he's really seeing. He thinks the color of his skin looks like the sky he remembered, but maybe it isn't really the sky he remembers. He sees colors of the people he knew and the colors of the colors of the sky, but he sees colors that are impossible to connect with other colors.

(He surfaces to darkness, insides twisting, writhing, turned snakes by the venom he's made of his blood. He staggers to the sink, spits up poison. Thinks about forgetting. Thinks about taking more.)

ix.

His color is yellow, the color of a sick leaf, and the first of the colors of his dreams.

"Tell me again what color I look like in your memory," she says.

He tries to focus on that part of her, of her memory, where he actually sees her. He thinks about how good her skin looks, how smooth and pale and slightly glowing. He can't remember her color.

"Do I look just like you remember?" he asks.

"Your color is the color of yellow of the leaves, right?"

"Yes," he whispers.

“You’re sick,” she says, and places a hand on his cold cheek, lets it warm.

“Sick,” he echoes, closes his eyes against her touch. Lets himself fade. Lets himself rest. “Perhaps.”

x.

"I don't remember it," he admits. "Your color."

"But you don't want me to, do you?"

She sighs, and for a moment, it seems she's crying. "No," she whispers. "No, not all."

"You didn't want me to know, did you?"

"Yes, I did. I do."

She bites her lip. Looks down. Looks away.

"I want you to remember. Just— not like this. Never like this."

"Why?"

"Because you'd see the way I laugh and the way I'm breathing, and if you just heard it for yourself, you'd know the way I loved your hair when you woke up from the dream that you shared with me. The way you looked when you talked about your life, when you stared up at the sky, seeing the dreams in your eyes."

(He had forgotten them already, because they were beautiful, those memories, and he knew them without remembering their color. Without remembering her name. Without remembering the truth.

The sky, he thinks, is even more vivid than memories.)

xi.

"I don't know," he says. "Why don't I remember? What am I forgetting?"

"I don't know either," she says. "I think...I must've forgotten, too."

"But maybe it doesn't matter— we do remember colors, don't we? As colors really are. Because we can remember them. You know, that's why color blindness must be one of the most terrible things that's ever been born. For a color-blind person, they see the colors of people and things by the color of their eyes, and they can't tell when the color is off. Just like colors are difficult to remember, and colors are difficult to see."

He smiles at her.

"There's one more way, isn't there?"

“To see color?”

“To remember,” he whispers, and lowers his lips to hers. She flinches under him, he steadies her, then she’s limp, his hands tight around her neck and he—

(He wakes.)

xii.

"Why are you here again?" she asks.

He shakes his head.

“I don’t know.”

"We might be in the middle of remembering," she says. "We're both always in the middle of remembering things in the middle of moments."

"Oh, you're an astrologist, then," he mutters, trying to remember the word. It doesn’t sound right. Nothing does.

"Astronomer?" He asks. She shakes her head. She's smiling, but her eyes are dark. Dark and blue.

"It doesn't matter, anyway," she says. "We should probably stop."

"Stop?"

She smiles again, her eyes bluer still.

No, he realizes. Not blue. Sad.

"It's time to wake up," she murmurs. He reaches for her, but it's too late. She fades, and he's left alone drifting under the stretching stars.

(Astronaut, he thinks, between planets and stardust. He remembers.)

...

fin.

"Are you saying I'm color-blind?"

She laughs again.

"Oh, no," she says. "Not color-blind at all. Your color blindness is just a side effect of your memory. You remember some colors well, and it doesn't matter what color the sky or a flower is, you can recognize it. So, yes. Your color blindness is your memory of colors."

"How is it my memory?" he asks, and though he could never be color-blind, he can still remember colors well enough to recognize the colors of the rainbow on the horizon as clouds drift by the sky.

"Maybe your color blindness is what happens when you spend so much time remembering color and color and color," she suggests, and somehow some part of him knows what she means is remembering me. Remembering my smile.

"Oh," he says. He considers it.

They are silent, for a time, until a sound cuts through the night air, crying through his whole body with a low swish of noise. He thinks he hears a whistling, and then it's back again. Then it's different, maybe growing louder, and he wonders if it's a ringing, but the sound gets fainter, so faint that he begins to think he imagined it.

"Is that the whistle?" she asks, and he can hear the alarm in her voice.

"Did it start again? Is this world going to end?" She whispers it, the sound again, and the sound grows closer, an elongated screech. The whistle never ceases.

The whistling sounds in every direction, like a swarm of insects.

And the smell is the worst, the most awful smell, like bad meat, or a stagnant ditch full of mud and dirt and rotten meat. He can barely breathe, and can barely see through the curtain of fog. He stands, reaching toward her, trying to hear her, but everything around him is changing.

"What is it?" she asks, and her voice is lost, lost in the darkness. She is lost. She is gone.

The smell, a putrid odor like rotten meat, begins to affect his mind, and he cannot remember her words.

There's something blue (sad) behind his eyelids. He tries to look and discovers that he can't.

"What's that?" he asks. He's in the clearing, still dressed in the dark color of morning (mourning), and everything is out of place, though he can't see it.

"It's my color. It's blue." He stares at it.

"My favorite color. Blue. And there's something pink around it. Couldn't see that before. It's pink."

The colors, he thinks. Those are colors. The whistling sound, I must have heard that noise before.

(The whistling doesn't sound like whistling at all. It sounds like heartbreak. It sounds like a scream.)

That's why I can't remember her. I remember colors, and it's like there's a wall in my mind, because I remember color, color and nothing else, color and her smile, the beginning, the middle, and not ever the end.

"I remember colors," he says. "Now let me remember her."

And he remembers pink, he remembers the smell. The whistle (the scream).

(Remembers she died. Remembers he wasn't there to save her.)

There's something red on the sand. It's a bouquet of roses he's picked. Pink and red. Roses. The smell, his nose draws in is the scent of roses.

(He knows they smell like her, but the moment's passed. Once again, he can't remember her.

He thinks, he must not have been hers. She must have not been in love.)

epilogue.

It is dawn when he wants to close his eyes and remember. But he tries not to think about it. He closes his eyes slowly, praying silently to the skies, barely able to imagine that the next time he opens his eyes, maybe they'll be different.

"... like his dreams," he whispers under his breath.

"... and her dreams."

"... like everything here." His steps seem slow today. Steady. Better than any other morning. Fresh.

"Just like his memories. Rest easy, Lucien."

(When the apartment door opens, it’s Ares who emerges.)

this is where im legally obligated to tell u I'm slowly being converted to a comp neuro nerd so i went and read the github of the language learning model inferkit uses, megatron-11b, and it'S hella cool but basically if anyone is worried. no it is not trained on the words u provide it-- the sentence structure/word information that the model 'learns' from is scripts made by the dev. so uh. basically, it's 'learned' all it will about language based on these provided scripts of vocab and sentence structure so when you give it a paragraph of writing, all it's doing is 'reacting' to your words by using its memory of these writing rules to predict (and auto-generate) what words it thinks will come next (the algorithm runs a tON of probability computations and this is the 'thinking' and predicting.)

[zargsnake]

Knightkiller: Anakin and Obi-Wan’s First Adventure

Chapter 7: Jane

Word Count: 2217 Links: Chapter 1, Table of Contents

 *   *   *

Freed, with the help of the little screwdriver Anakin gave her, on the lower floor of the space station, Zlinky uses the nearest control panel to disable the local electricity. The already dark lower-prison hall turns completely black.

As an Akarn, Zlinky has a third eye in the middle of her forehead which can adapt to almost any environment. Many droids have night vision too, but Zlinky has observed from her time in captivity that droids are poorly kept here. Knightkiller, with her telepathic powers and abundant riches, holds sway over the organic beings in her employment; the guards and patrons here are all devoted to her. But Knightkiller has neglected her mechanical servants. They are all falling into disrepair, and Zlinky has even detected them grumbling among themselves.

People forget too easily that droids, nowadays, have extremely advanced personalities. Adults underestimate how independently-minded their droids can be. But children understand. They have never known droids to be any other way.

Zlinky sneaks down the hall, past the fumbling guards. Other prisoners soon realize that their own electrobars have become deactivated, and they start to emerge into the hallway too, their arms outstretched in front of them, tripping and feeling their way through the dark. Zlinky maneuvers through them with a small measure of grace and a large measure of scrutiny.

Lightsabers, lightsabers, lightsabers, lightsabers, lightsabers. I must find all four. Once we've found them, we'll be unstoppable.

Suddenly, a guard grabs her from behind. A Togruta -- he must have used echolocation. Zlinky squirms against his arms, then stabs behind her wildly with the screwdriver. She isn't sure where she hit him -- the stomach, possibly. But he howls in pain and loosens his grip. She slithers out and leaps, calling upon the Force to help her. She hits her head on the hallway ceiling, but the ploy, otherwise, works. Holding her head, she stumbles around the corner and sees a door marked “Storage.”

Maybe our lightsabers are here? Well, SOMETHING useful must be in here! All I have now is this flimsy little tool.

But she does feel extremely grateful for the little screwdriver, and she hopes Anakin will let her keep it. She would call it good luck, if she believed in that stuff. Instead, she'll call it exceedingly useful. She picks the lock to the storage room with the screwdriver, which takes a frighteningly long minute, dashes inside, and shuts the door behind her.

Zlinky sees cabinets and closets and boxes full of files and records, piles of office and medical supplies. Who would think running a death sport would be so bureaucratic? The haphazardness offends her Temple-trained sensibilities.

But most importantly, she sees, in the corner, a rusted old murder-droid, missing much of its plating and bent over in disrepair. Its shape is about as humanoid as her own, though a couple feet taller. Compassion moves her to approach it. She sees that someone has scribbled a face with two X's for eyes and a frown on a little yellow piece of paper and taped it over the murder-droid's face to signify its death. She yanks the paper off and examines the droid’s busted innards.

There's a flipzipter. A gavel gear. A pair of old-fashioned mono-trammers. It's really not too different from the diner-droids on which she learned robotic engineering. A gunky substance has clogged its gears; she tries to scrape it off with the screwdriver, but she can't get a grip on it with that. She takes a nervous glance at the bulky laser blasters on its back, then plunges her own claws into its chest and scoops out the goop. She pulls out a burnt-up square of metal which was caught in the goop; upon closer inspection, she guesses that it used to be a memory chip. Oh well -- it's useless now. She bends the flipzipter back into its standard position, and reattaches the wires that had become unplugged from it.

With a tiny jolt of electricity that shoots through the Padawan and makes any hairs loose from her braid stick out, the murder-droid wakes up, its red eyes the only light in the darkness.

“ʙʟᴢᴢᴋᴢᴢɢᴀᴀᴀᴀᴀ! ᴀᴀᴀᴀʜ!! AAAAAHHHH!!!! ᴡʜᴏ ᴀʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ?! ᴡʜᴀᴛ'ꜱ ɢᴏɪɴɢ ᴏɴ?! ᴡʜᴏ ᴀᴍ ɪ?!”

“Shhh!” Zlinky pulls her sticky hands out of its chest and throws them on top of its mouth-slot -- her mouth-slot, she supposes, since the droid has a feminine voice. “Keep it down! The badguys are looking for me!”

In a muffled voice, the murder-droid responds, “ɪ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴄᴀʀᴇ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ YOU! ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ME?”

“Well you SHOULD care about me! I just saved your life!”

“ʏᴏᴜ ᴅɪᴅ?”

“Yeah, I repaired you, you ungrateful bucket of bolts!”

The murder-droid issues whirring noises from several parts. “ɪ ᴄᴀɴ'ᴛ ꜰᴇᴇʟ ᴍʏ ʟᴇɢꜱ!”

“Well I'm not finished! I just started! And if you don't keep it down I never will!”

The murder-droid narrows the dots of light that project her eyes. “ᴡʜᴏ ᴀᴍ ɪ?”

“Well... I'll check your brain-text, but I'm not optimistic.” Zlinky unscrews a panel on the side of the droid’s head. “Yeah. It's like I thought. You've been pirated. They scraped off your original ID number.”

“ᴡʜᴀᴛ?! ʙᴜᴛ -- ᴛʜᴇɴ ɪ'ᴍ ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ!”

“Nobody's nothing. They must have called you something. Unfortunately, at least one of your memory chips has melted. I think.”

With a squeaking sound, the murder-droid raises her claw to her forehead. “ᴏʜ... ᴍʏ ꜰʀᴀɢɪʟᴇ ᴍɪɴᴅ…”

“Hey, don't worry about it. These bozos didn't respect you, but you're with the Jedi now.”

“ᴛʜᴇ ᴊᴇᴅɪ?”

“Yeah, like me! I'm a Jedi! My name is Zlinky Zalt.”

“ᴠᴇʀʏ ʀᴜᴅᴇ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏ ꜰʟᴀᴜɴᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ɴᴀᴍᴇ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ, ᴄᴏɴꜱɪᴅᴇʀɪɴɢ ɪ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴏɴᴇ.”

“Uh, sorry. Well, let's find you a name; what do you do--?”

Zlinky accidentally zaps herself with an open wire and bites her lip in a grimace.

The murder-droid’s eyes become scattered dots that beep quickly and softly. “ꜱᴇᴀʀᴄʜɪɴɢ ... ᴍᴀɪɴꜰʀᴀᴍᴇ ... ᴘʀᴏᴛᴏᴄᴏʟ: NEUTRALIZE.”

“Neutralize?”

Her eyes flicker back to solid red. “ᴀꜰꜰɪʀᴍᴀᴛɪᴠᴇ.”

“Neutralize what?”

Her eyes become scattering dots again. “ꜱᴇᴀʀᴄʜɪɴɢ ... ᴍᴀɪɴꜰʀᴀᴍᴇ ... ʜᴀʀᴅᴡᴀʀᴇ ... ꜱʏꜱᴛᴇᴍꜱ ... ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴀɴᴅ ... ʙᴢᴢᴛ ... ꜱᴇᴀʀᴄʜɪɴɢ ... ‘ᴏʙᴊᴇᴄᴛ’ ... ‘ᴛᴀʀɢᴇᴛ’ ... вzzт ... b҉z҉z҉t҉ ... ᴛᴀʀɢᴇᴛ: ERROR.” Her eyes flicker back to red, but with the sides tilted down in sorrow. “ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪɴꜰᴏʀᴍᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ʜᴀꜱ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴄᴏʀʀᴜᴘᴛᴇᴅ.”

“Hey, it's okay. The Jedi can get you a new purpose. As long as your programming isn't hopelessly violent…”

“ᴡʜᴇɴ? ʜᴏᴡ ꜱᴏᴏɴ?”

“Well I don't know. As soon as I can get you back to the Temple.”

“ʟᴇᴛ’ꜱ ɢᴏ.” The murder-droid stands up straight.

“Wait!” Zlinky pulls some wires apart.

“ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴇᴀᴄᴛɪᴠᴀᴛᴇᴅ ᴍʏ ʟᴇɢꜱ! ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴀꜱ ꜱᴏᴏɴ ᴀꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰɪxᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇᴍ!”

“Yeah, I did. Your purpose right now is to stay put.”

“ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪꜱ ᴀɴ ᴜɴᴀᴄᴄᴇᴘᴛᴀʙʟᴇ ᴡᴀꜱᴛᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴀʙɪʟɪᴛɪᴇꜱ.”

“Deal with it. Patience is an ability, too.”

“ɪꜰ ᴀʟʟ ᴊᴇᴅɪ ᴀʀᴇ ʟɪᴋᴇ ʏᴏᴜ, ɪ'ᴍ ɴᴏᴛ ꜱᴜʀᴇ ɪ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴀ ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏꜰ ɪᴛ.”

“Fine. Do you want me to shut you down again?”

“ʙᴜᴢᴢ ʙᴜᴢᴢ ʙᴜᴢᴢ, ɢʀᴜᴍᴍᴍm҉m҉m̵̧̌̍͋̆b̸̧̙͈͈̓̌̌ĺ̵͕͔͇͔͎̠̗͈͍ͅe̷̖͎̳͖̬̅́…”

“I'll take that as a no.” The droid is silent as Zlinky works on her. “I'm sorry we're not at the Temple right now. Believe me, I want to be there far more than you do.”

“ɪ ᴅᴏᴜʙᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ. ɪ ᴀᴍ ɪɴ ᴀɴ ᴇxɪꜱᴛᴇɴᴛɪᴀʟ ꜰʟᴜx.”

I have to repair her mind AND her body! thinks Zlinky.

“Uh, okay, listen. How about I give you a temporary name and a temporary mission right now. Just to tide you over until we get back home. Er, I mean, back to the Temple.”

“ʜʀʀᴜᴍᴍʜʜᴘᴘʙᴢᴢᴢ ʙᴢᴢᴛ ʙᴇᴇᴘ ʙᴇᴇᴘ.”

Zlinky spins a cog and sees a panel of lights in the droid’s guts turn on. She thinks she’s nearly got her -- then she hears the weapons on the droid's back powering on. The young girl swallows nervously.

“Okay, your temporary mission is to protect me and the three other Jedi: my master Tila Juna, a 500-year-old gray Lollian with one broken horn -- Anakin Skywalker, a 9-year-old human with pink skin and yellow hair and blue eyes -- and -- uh -- his master too.”

“ᴘʀᴏᴛᴏᴄᴏʟ ɪɴꜱᴛᴀʟʟɪ-- ᴘʀᴏᴛᴏᴄᴏʟ ɪɴᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇ. ɪᴅᴇɴᴛɪꜰʏ ꜰᴏᴜʀᴛʜ ᴊᴇᴅɪ!”

“I can't! I don't remember their name! I'll know them when I see them.”

“ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴡᴀɪᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪꜱꜱɪᴏɴ ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ ɴᴇᴜᴛʀᴀʟɪᴢᴀᴛɪᴏɴ, ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʜᴀɴᴄᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪ ᴀᴄᴄɪᴅᴇɴᴛᴀʟʟʏ ɴᴇᴜᴛʀᴀʟɪᴢᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀꜱᴛ ᴊᴇᴅɪ?”

“Well, first of all, only neutralize when absolutely necessary.”

“... ᴅɪʀᴇᴄᴛɪᴠᴇ ... ɪɴᴄᴏᴍᴘᴀᴛɪʙʟᴇ ... ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴘʀᴏɢʀᴀᴍᴍɪɴɢ.”

“Oh gimme a break!”

Maybe this is a mistake, thinks Zlinky. I don't want to go on a rampage. But I must get out of here! I have to get back to Tila! That's my top priority!

“Look, I'm very sneaky,” Zlinky says, reassuringly. “You might not have to neutralize anyone. You just have to protect me.”

“... ɪᴛ'ꜱ ᴀ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ʙᴀᴄᴋᴡᴀʀᴅꜱ, ᴛʀʏɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ɢʀᴀꜰᴛ ᴀ ᴅᴇꜰᴇɴꜱɪᴠᴇ ᴘʀᴏᴛᴏᴄᴏʟ ᴏɴᴛᴏ ᴍʏ ᴏꜰꜰᴇɴꜱɪᴠᴇ ꜱʏꜱᴛᴇᴍꜱ.”

Zlinky replies, smugly, “Well I do it every day. That's what being a Jedi is all about! Protecting the innocent, defending the law!”

“... ʙʟʀʀʀɢɢɢɢ.” The droid’s eyes become one annoyed horizontal line of dots. “ᴘʀᴏᴛᴏᴄᴏʟ ... ᴀʟɪɢɴɪɴɢ ... ᴘʀᴏᴛᴏᴄᴏʟ ɪɴꜱᴜꜰꜰᴇʀᴀʙʟᴇ.”

“Oh come on, grow up. It's good to be the hero.”

“ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴀɪᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ɢᴏɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴀ ‘ᴛᴇᴍᴘᴏʀᴀʀʏ ɴᴀᴍᴇ,’ ᴛᴏᴏ.”

“Yeeeah. I did. Um ... Jedi ... Jedi ... Temple ... Temple Bot? Teebee?”

The murder-droid shudders. “ᴀʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴋɪᴅᴅɪɴɢ? ᴛᴇᴇʙᴇᴇ?”

“What's wrong with Teebee?”

“ɪ ʜᴀᴛᴇ ɪᴛ.”

“Beggars can't be choosers.”

“ɪᴅ: REJECTED. ʀᴇᴀꜱᴏɴ: ɪɴᴄᴏᴍᴘᴀᴛɪʙʟᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴘʀᴏɢʀᴀᴍᴍɪɴɢ. ᴛᴏᴏ ᴀᴅᴏʀᴀʙʟᴇ.”

“Jedi Bot? Jaybee?”

Goop dribbles out of the droid’s mouth slot.

“Alright then... Neutralize. Neutralizer. Jedi ... Jedi Neutralizer. No. Wait. That sounds wrong.”

“ɪ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ɪᴛ,” the murder-droid says quickly.

“Ah, wait!”

“ᴊᴇᴅɪ ɴᴇᴜᴛʀᴀʟɪᴢᴇʀ.”

Zlinky sighs. “Fine. Jedi Neutralizer. JN.”

“ᴊɴ. ᴊᴀɴᴇ.”

“Jane?”

“ᴊᴀɴᴇ. ɪ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ɪᴛ,” the droid repeats.

“Me too,” Zlinky responds, truthfully.

As soon as Jane is functionally repaired, Zlinky finds her a battery pack, since they have no time to recharge her. She looks around for a new memory card, but finds nothing. Oh, well. Jane will just have a very short-term memory until they find new hardware for her. Without the card, she can't have any more than one gig of memory. Zlinky will just have to keep reminding her that her name is Jane and her purpose is to protect the four Jedi. Zlinky fears that Jane will forget this and kill her on accident. That would be very ironic. But for now, Zlinky is glad to have her.

Once they leave the storage room, Zlinky points to a guard and begins to command Jane to knock them out, but Jane has already blasted them.

“Ah! Are they alive?” Zlinky whispers in terror.

“ɪ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴋɴᴏᴡ. ʜᴏᴡ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ɪ ᴋɴᴏᴡ?”

Zlinky cautiously approaches the body. “...They're alive. Keep your blaster at exactly that setting, okay? Don't change anything.”

“ᴀꜰꜰɪʀᴍᴀᴛɪᴠᴇ.”

“Great.”

She tugs the armor off the guard and puts it on herself. Together, they quietly leave the lower prison in absolute chaos and locate the space station employee break room and quarters across a hall. Zlinky finds a station map on the employee computer, which someone had, happily, left logged in.

She finally gets a good look at the layout of the station. The lower floor has a prison and under-arena logistical areas; the main floor has the arena, gladiator rooms, and the best seating; and the upper floor has another prison and the balcony cheap seats.

She searches for where Knightkiller could be. Tila recognized Knightkiller as her old friend Glagret, and told her Padawan so before they were separated. Zlinky knows that the key to escaping, and to stopping this whole evil enterprise, is Glagret. Why has she turned evil? Why did she gather all these crooks together? Why is she mind-tricking Jedi children?

Zlinky figures there must be something controlling her. She imagines striking the implement off the old alien’s brain and rescuing her, restoring her to her true, good self.

What happened 400 years ago on the Liberated Comet? If she was alive, why didn't she come back?

One Padawan and one droid probably don't stand a chance against her.

Zlinky sees in the screen projection that Obi-Wan is fighting in the arena, and Tila is being held as bait. Zlinky wonders why Anakin isn't. She guesses, with a heavy heart, that Obi-Wan was so stubborn about playing along that they killed Anakin in retribution. She feels her guts writhe with fear and anger at the thought. The boy was so kind, and clever, and so very strong in the Force, strong enough to resist a mind-trick -- unheard of at his age -- even though it was stupid of him to try. Perhaps his last legacy is the screwdriver. She will not let him die in vain.

Unless, of course, he's still alive. She wonders if, perhaps, he escaped, just as she has…

She hears an ominous whirring sound, drifting away.

“Jane! Don't wander off.” Zlinky grabs Jane’s rifle-barrel and pulls her back to her side. “Stay with me. You must protect me; it is your purpose.”

“ᴡʜᴏ ᴀʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ?”

“... Call me Guard.”

“ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴅᴏᴇꜱɴ'ᴛ ꜱᴏᴜɴᴅ ʀɪɢʜᴛ.”

Zlinky looks around nervously at the other guards. She grabs Jane's head and whispers into her audio-slot. “Zlinky Zalt. But don't say so. I'm in disguise right now. So shhh.”

“ᴀʜʜʜʜ. ɪ ꜱᴇᴇ.”

“Uh, good.” The confidence in Jane's voice makes Zlinky doubt that Jane has any idea what's going on. She shakes her head and continues looking at this map.

Chapter 8: Priorities

[bjsmall]

10.01.21

We watched Legends of the Guardians: The Owls of Ga'Hoole (2010) IMDb link: https://www.imdb.com/title/tt1219342/ Legends of the Guardians: The Owls of Ga'Hoole is a 2010 computer animated fantasy adventure film based on the Guardians of Ga'Hoole series of books by Kathryn Lasky. It was developed by Village Roadshow Pictures and Animal Logic and distributed by Warner Brothers. The film is directed by Zack Snyder and produced by Zareh Nowbandian. With many characters in the film, there is an extensive voice cast. Jim Sturgess as Soren Emily Barclay as Gylfie Miriam Margolyes as Mrs. Plithiver Abbie Cornish as Otulissa Ryan Kwanten as Kludd Helen Mirren as Nyra The film follows Soren, a young owl enthralled by his fathers epic stories of the Guardians of Ga'Hoole, a band of winged warriors who have fought a great battle to save all of owl kind from the evil pure ones. For full plot, see wiki link: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Legend_of_the_Guardians:_The_Owls_of_Ga%27Hoole It is very difficult to pick out individual scenes from Legends of the Guardians as the film unravels in a continuous thread of action and adventure. For those interested, here is a link to the trailer: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x8RKCmkOyB4 The film was developed by the digital visual effects company Animal Logic, following the success of the 2006 film Happy Feet. The film was in production for over three years at the Animal Logic studios in Sydney, Australia. A team of over 500 artists and technicians designed and developed the film, finally stitching it all together using Pixars Renderman software. The hardest task for the Animal Logic animators was to design the 15 unique species of owls as well as other forest animals such as snakes, bats, bees, beetles and even a Tasmanian devil. The end credits deserve a mention in their own right. The plot is told through the eyes of young owls using Shadow Play. Its child like quality took over three months to perfect and is legible without 3D glasses. Legends of the Guardians: The Owls of Ga'Hoole is shown in the 2.35:1 aspect ratio. The soundtrack was scored by David Hirschfielder and released by WaterTower Music. The soundtrack also includes the song ''To the Sky'' by Owl City exclusively written for the film. Legends of the Guardians: The Owls of Ga'Hoole has been highly praised for its dazzling visuals and clever animation. The voice cast were also praised for their ability to invoke drama and tension. The film was criticised for its story line, which some felt never lived up to its full potential. The film has an average rating of 5.7 with 52% positive reviews.

However, I think the story is easy to understand and really enjoyable. There are currently no plans for a sequel. Legends of the Guardians: The Owls of Ga'Hoole was released on Blu-Ray and DVD on December 2010. It features a documentary about owls entitled True Guardians of the Earth. I enjoyed watching Legends of the Guardians: The Owls of Ga'Hoole again. The animation is excellent and there are some really interesting well developed characters. One of the reasons that I like this film so much is that I am particularly interested in owls. I particularly enjoy listening to Owl City's song in the film. For a guide to owls that can be found in Britain, follow this link: https://www.rspb.org.uk/birds-and-wildlife/wildlife-guides/bird-a-z/owl-family/

[cherise-anson7dsd5o]

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— Vasanth (@Vasanth79072575) January 17, 2021

[moos-cow]

Gemini

Chapter 3

Chapter 1 | Chapter 1a | Chapter 1b | Chapter 1c | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 |

A/N: Wellllp, look who's back with the long overdue, chapter 3 hehehehehe

5:00 am. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

The room was bathed in darkness when she woke up to the sound of her phone’s annoyingly loud alarm. Unfortunately, she left the device on the dresser across the room. Despite feeling the drag brought by jet lag, she mustered the energy to get up and turn it off, shaking off any of the drowsiness she had left along the way.

Unread notification: 1 file successfully downloaded

Right. It was still there-- the file sent by Max. She fumbled with her phone for a bit, a strange yet vague gut feeling calling to her.

“Oh, what the hell. Like it will change anything.” She scoffed and opened the file. She was stuck in another world, surely someone else would go and take this assignment in her place after a week or two.

Click. Click.

The Academy --Confidential-- Agent ID: Bellona Target ID: “Aldrich Winter” Last known whereabouts: Farringdon, London, England, -12 weeks Notes: Track and eliminate. --Image below--

"12 weeks? No wonder why this idiot sent me this." She murmured to herself. In her opinion, Max deserved the title of being the most annoying admin personnel in all of The Academy; volunteering on her behalf for the most absurd and difficult targets the Council had on their list, even if his intel saved her ass a couple of times.

Aside from the short text, the file came attached with a sole picture of a man. Being curious as always, she carefully studied the photo in the file-- Ocean blue eyes, neat blonde hair, and a large scar from his left cheek bone down to his jaw.

What on earth did you do that made the Council hate you so much?

Time seemed to pass by fast that morning as sunlight gradually filled the room. She closed the file and completely shut the phone down, sticking it back in the side pocket of her bag. By habit, she took a shower and changed into some clothes that seemed to fit in this world: a partially tucked v-neck, jacket, jeans, and sneakers.

With a packed wafer in hand, she tread for the door. A short knock was immediately followed by her opening of the door, Ray and Sirius stood there waiting.

“Ray, Sirius. Good morning.”

“You're up early.” The Queen greets nonchalantly. "feeling better, little lady?"

"Much much better. Please, come in." She gestured and led them inside the room, offering them a wafer each as they took a seat on the sofa. “I was just about to go and look for the two of you.”

“Lucky us then." Ray chimes as he studied the wafer in his hand.

"Everything is packed like that in the other- in the Land of Reason." She comments and tears open hers to demonstrate. "I assume that you don't have those here?"

"We don't." Ray deadpanned, placed the wafer down on the table and clasped his hands over his knees, signalling the change of topic. Sirius slipped a fountain pen and paper across the table-- a contract of sorts.

"So, Alice," Ray started again, "We had a discussion yesterday, and we’d like to propose a deal to you, one that will both help us survive in this world.”

“What kind?” She leaned on the dresser behind her, listening intently, but not batting an eye to the document.

“You see, your ability to nullify magic is just what we need.” The King continued, “so, if you promise to help us when we need you, we promise to keep you safe.”

Ah, and there it is-- the catch.

“Safe? I don’t know how to control this magic though,” she bluntly stated, remembering Kyle’s words from the night before. "I might just be a liability to you all."

Ray took a quick glance at Sirius. “We can work that out.” Sirius flashed her a satisfied grin.

Onyx pools looked into their eyes for a moment of thoughtful consideration. Accepting their proposition would seem… ideal, but it required trust. She’ll be bound to them for a whole month if she'd agree. Daily interactions with the soldiers will surely rouse them up, and the dreaded questions about her will come-- there will be no escaping that. She had to delay those as much as possible.

Distancing herself sounded impossible, and evading will only lead to more questions; at that moment, lying was her only option, even if it was never her strong suit.

The less they know, the better.

She took the pen and paper and scanned through the contents. Taking her time in marking out items that she thought needed revisions before she slid the document back to them.

"Forgive me, but I've never been in an army setting before. I’d rather be civil and be called by my real name, not Alice."

Sirius scanned over her legibly written notes on the document. A soft smile graced his lips, her points were valid, and all were taken. Besides, even they didn’t mind foregoing their titles when simply talking to their comrades.

"We can work with these." he spoke, handing the document to Ray, who later read and, to her surprise, signed at the bottom of the document.

“Just like that?" she spoke after munching on the last bite of her wafer.

“Just like that.” Ray stood up and raised his hand to salute her, “On behalf of the Black Army, Amaya, Freedom soars on raven wings. Welcome.” She mirrored him and saluted in return.

Sirius stood up and rested a hand on her head, lightly ruffling her hair in the process. “Welcome to the Black Army, little lady.”

Amaya walked them to the door, but paused just as her hand held the knob, muffled voices can be heard-- voices that belonged to Seth and Fenrir were right by the doorway, bickering over whether they should knock this early or not. With pursed lips and a light sigh, she opened the door. It was indeed them, clad in their complete uniforms.

“Ahh!” Seth immediately shrieked at the sight of the young lady. "Alice, sweetie! How are you?!"

"Mornin’, guys!" Fenrir quickly followed up, eyeing their superiors who were just behind her.

“Seth, Fenrir, good morning! I’m much better, thanks.” she says, taken aback by their extremely high energies so early in the morning. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything's perfect, sweetie!" Seth announced in his goody-good high tone.

"Since you were out cold yesterday, we decided to postpone your Official Black Army Headquarters Tour to today!"

"My what?" She asked, lost, obviously not picking up on anything they were saying.

"Sir Fenrir, Sir Seth! Ah, Sir Ray and Sir Sirius too! Good morning, sirs! I have a message from Sir Luka!" a soldier came running and stood in attention before them, "You have one hour, else, no dessert tonight!"

"One hour for what?"

Without batting an eye to anything she just asked, they exchanged huge grins and stepped to either side of her, each of them taking a hold of an arm.

"Well we wouldn't want to miss tonight's special dessert now, do we?!" Seth exclaimed, shaking and swaying the young lady's arm in the process.

"All aboard Amaya's Official Black Army Headquarters Tour!" Fenrir shouted through the hallways.

Their sheer excitement was overflowing, it was clearer than day that they hadn't heard a single word she'd said. Next thing she knew, they were racing down the hallways.

"She’ll be fine... right?" Ray grinned to the taller man beside him, whilst Sirius just sighed and closed the door behind them as they left the room.

Down the stairs and out the front door the trio went, running along the paved road that stretched out long between lawns lined with black flags that snapped with the chilly wind.

“Welcome to the Black Army Headquarters!” the two officers sang as they turned her around. "Your home until the next full moon!"

At the end of the paved road stood a huge black manor, completely different from how the Red Army Headquarters looked like.

From the gates, they headed to the training grounds and stables at the back of the building. Some soldiers who just finished their morning runs casually greeted them as they passed.

Inside, they took her through the common areas of every floor they could get their hands on, and scanned through the bedrooms on the second floor.

“So how many soldiers live here?” Amaya asked as they walked through the bedroom assignments.

“500.” Fenrir states, “But the only ones required to live here are the thirteen officers.”

“And the others?”

“They can stay as long as they keep their rooms clean and chip in with the chores, like--” Seth declares as he opens one bedroom door for a random inspection.

“AHH!” He squeals and slams the door shut before anyone else could get a look of what’s inside. His face lost all light and turned extremely grim.

“Seth, what’s wrong?” she asked while Fenrir laughed hysterically.

“Nothing, sweetie.” Seth turned around in a snap and with a huge pout on his face. “Let’s head back to the dining hall, shall we?”

Fenrir whispered in her ear, trying to suppress his laugh. “Looks like a messy room to me.”

The gentle scent of food wafted through the air as they made their way back to the dining hall.

“Oh wow, that smells good.” she took a deep death in, taking in all that goodness.

“If it’s Luka’s cooking, I’m sure it’ll taste even better!” Fenrir said as he opened the door to the dining hall, gesturing for her to step inside.

The aroma that blew past them was incredibly tantalizing. Dishes of all sorts, including some of her favorites, were lined up along the huge dining table-- from pancakes, salad, toast, eggs, bacon, fresh fruits, sausages, croissants-- it was mouthwatering, to say at the very least.

“Ah! Is that banana bread?” she asks, eyes immediately locked onto the loaves placed at the center of the table.

“Looks like our little chef had fun in the kitchen today.” Seth gushed, looking at the direction of Luka.

Taking Seth's hint, she called out to the army's chef, “Luka, this looks amazing!”

“Thanks.” Luka gruffly said, looking away with a faint smile on his face. “Eat. It’ll get cold.”

Seth pulled a seat and gestured for Amaya to sit between Luka and himself.

As they all began to eat, Ray called from the head of the table, raising a glass in cheers. “To the newest member of the Black Army.”

She raised her glass and just smiled back before downing the orange juice in it.

“Tell me, little lady. What sort of work did you do in the Land of Reason? Or are you still studying?” Sirius asked from across her.

“Both? I work in marketing and am taking my postgraduate studies at the moment.” she gleefully answered, pouring a ton load of syrup on her 3-storey pancake tower.

No sooner had she noticed that the table had fallen silent, eyes and ears were on her as the officers listened intently to the answers.

“And you’re, how old?” Fenrir asks through a mouthful of hash browns.

“Fenrir, you oaf! You don’t just go around asking ladies how old they are!” Seth outright scolded the younger lad, waving his fork around. “That’s downright disrespectful!”

“Oh wow. It’s fine, Seth! It’s fine!” she gushed, trying to suppress her bursting laughter “I’m turning 25.”

“When?” Luka promptly asked from beside her in his quiet tone.

“Soon. But not in the next 30 days.”

"You're not far off from these brats." Sirius spoke with all seriousness.

"Really?" She tried to bite back her sarcasm, but her tone made it all too obvious, earning a laugh from Sirius.

“So, any hobbies? Interests? Do you want to go shopping?” Seth bombards her with question after question.

Struck by the question, she set her fork down on the plate and leaned back on the chair, pouting unconsciously “Hmm. I’ve never really thought about that.” she took her cup to her lips, inhaling the earthy aroma of the coffee, “Coffee? I like good coffee. Travelling, maybe? I travel a lot for work. Cooking? Breakfast is magical, by the way.”

“Do you have any siblings, Alice?” another asked from the other end of the table, earning him some teasing remarks from the other soldiers. "Yeah maybe you can bring them here sometime!"

Goodness. Boys. Of all the things they could ask.

She drew a quick frown at the question before clearing her throat to answer, “I had two older sisters.” She stuck her fork through the sliced 3-tier pancake and shoved it into her mouth. Pissed. Though, it wasn’t because of the 3 of Spade’s audacity to ask that swashbuckling of a question, but rather, it reopened a deep wound.

“Was that bad?” Luka asked softly.

She slipped, eagerly shaking her head, “Oh- no, no.” she paused, carefully looking for the right words to say, “Family is… just something I'd rather not talk about.”

Thankfully, Luka didn’t press any further. But the weight of Sirius’ gaze on her was evident, one she just chose to ignore.

Breakfast with the officers wasn’t as uptight as how she thought it would be. They were bantering and teasing one another left and right like kids. This proved to be a rare sight for military men, their titles and ranks seemed to be left at the door.

Not long after, one by one, they began to leave for their respective duties, and Amaya was left with Sirius and Luka in the dining hall. She volunteered-- insisted, rather, to help clean up the area after knowing that they actually threw this breakfast banquet for her.

With a couple of mugs in hand, she stopped by the window to watch the soldiers spar with each other out in the courtyard. Fenrir and Ray were there, getting pretty hands-on themselves.

"Is it like this everyday?" she asked, eyes still glued to the window.

"Hmm?" Sirius towered over her short frame, taking a quick peek at the activities outside. "Generally, yes. Training is scheduled throughout the day. Different times for different squads."

"Mmm." She hummed. Her eyes followed one of the soldiers who was heavy on his feet. It was amusingly painful to watch how he threw himself forward with the thrust of his wooden sword, only to be parried and tripped to fall face first on the ground. "Oh nooo-" she mumbled, lightly laughing at the young man's stumble.

Engrossed in the comedic scene before her, she forgot that Sirius was still beside her by the window when he spoke, "Those are their new recruits, by the way."

Of course they were the new recruits. If they weren't, they'd be wiped out in an instant if they were thrown out in the frontlines. She kept her opinions to herself, slightly shaking her head at the thought that maybe even she could take them out with her eyes closed.

"Mmhmm, and it looks like Ray and Fenrir are having the time of their lives with the kids." she chuckled, watching the Ace spar 3-to-1. His hand-to-hand combat skills are impeccable, but a bit reckless to some extent, obviously treating that session like a game more than an actual spar.

"Sirius," Luka softly called from the kitchen door, cutting the two from their conversation. "I'll be going to the market."

"Want to go for a walk, little lady?" Sirius asked.

"Sure," she shrugged, taking one last look outside before glancing at Sirius. "Where to?"

Sirius gazed at Luka who was buttoning his jacket by the kitchen doorway, "Luka, could you take this little lady with you to the market?"

The purple-haired soldier looked questioningly back and forth between Sirius and Amaya, "Amaya? Okay."

[gamename436]

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