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lilacandladybugs · 3 years

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Winnie the Pooh Rendition: In Which Technoblade Leads an Expedition and Phil Helps

Techno the Pig lived just outside of the remains of Pogtopia inside a Secret underground Bunker surrounded by all his pets and valuables. As many people know, Secret places are very important for every kind of pig, as pigs are creatures who are very Clever and Strong and Powerful and Have Things which people would like to steal. Pigs are also generally known as the most generous of animals, which makes them easy to steal from, as it is very difficult for pigs to say no to their allies.

It just so happened that when Technoblade had all of his allies over to his bunker in order to give them many gifts of great value, none of them asked twice. They did not say, “Are you sure, Technoblade?” or, “Thank you, Technoblade,” or even a considerate, “May I help myself, Technoblade?”

Of course this did not bother him, being the kind and generous pig he was, but as he looked through his chests the next morning he found them concerningly sparse. “Look at this,” he said to himself, “they even took the bookcases from my enchanting room.” This seemed unnecessary.

It was high time for him to move.

Just as he was thinking this, Phil dropped down into his base. “Hello, Technoblade!”

“Hullo,” Technoblade said, still thinking very hard about his lack of books, “I think I need to move houses Phil.”

“Really?” asked Phil, coming over to look at his bookshelf-less enchanting room with him.

“I actually already built a place earlier, but I still need to move my mobs over there. Hubert and the skeleton. Do you want to help?” Most people could not be trusted around such precious mobs, but it was also generally known that people called Phil were helpful and trustworthy people to Pigs like Techno.

“Sure, Techno.” Phil said happily, “Do you have any plans about how to move them?” They both walked back into the main chest chamber where Hubert and the Skeleton looked at them mournfully. The area was rather cramped and there wasn’t a good way to place a boat to get them up the elevator. Technoblade leaned over the stone wall to Hubert.

“Don’t worry Hubert,” he whispered, “we’re going to get you out of there.” He would never pick favorites, but if he had to choose, Hubert was his favorite.

“I don’t have a plan,” Techno confessed, “I think we’ll probably need a boat though.”

Philza examined the situation for a minute before declaring, “I mean we could just push them up the water elevator manually, we don’t need to put them in a boat.”

“Ah,” said Technoblade, pretending that he Understood Things about Minecraft like Phil did, “Yeah, that could work.”

Phil broke down the wall around Hubert with his pickaxe and started pushing him toward the water elevator. Hubert meandered out of his old spot and looked around at both Technoblade and Philza before walking over to the water elevator and zooming up to the surface.

“Okay,” Phil said, casually, “now we should make sure he doesn’t drown.” Phil went up the elevator after him.

This alarmed Technoblade. “Wait,” Techno grabbed some soul sand and a boat.

“Hurry up!” called Phil from the surface, “He’s drowning.”

“No!” Techno zoomed up the water elevator, dug out the sand under Hubert, and placed the soul sand. Hubert bobbed to the surface and looked at Techno gratefully. Well, his expression was probably grateful, but it was a little bit difficult to tell from underneath his pumpkin hat.

“Here Phil, you ride with Hubert, and I’ll ride with the skeleton.” Techno retrieved the skeleton with much less trouble than they had retrieved Hubert, and they both placed their boats and headed off Up North.

Technoblade went first so he could keep watch for Dangerous things such as Mobs and also baby zombies. Even though Phil was impressive for a human, having lived a very long life, it was said that he would be killed easily by a baby zombie. Technoblades on the other hand, had no known weaknesses and were impervious to many harmful attacks. “I don’t understand Phil,” Technoblade said, as his skeleton shot him in the back repeatedly, “why a baby zombie could be more dangerous to you than normal zombies.”

Phil chuckled, “I don’t either.”

“Babies are almost always weaker than adults. Have you ever fought a baby, Phil?”

“No.”

“I have and it was trivially easy to defeat, Phil.”

Philza scowled, thinking of his last attempt to kill a baby zombie, “Well baby zombies are quite a bit faster than regular zombies, and they have smaller hitboxes, and—”

Technoblade on the other hand was preoccupied with his plan to keep both his mobs and Philza alive until they got to his base, “Don’t worry Phil, I’ll protect you.”

Just as he was saying this, the wintery biome appeared in newly loaded chunks. It looked very cold with the snow carelessly dancing down from the sky, and the houses in the nearby village looked very cozy. If it hadn’t been night, it would have been perfect conditions to go for a nice stroll along with his friend Phil and two mobs. Unfortunately they would have to be very careful, Techno explained to Phil, as if Phil was not a hardcore minecraft player, and they must look out carefully for mobs, as the area was a Dangerous Area at night. Who knew how many baby zombies might approach them from the shadows.

“I have full netherite armor Techno I can take care of myself—”

“PHIL, LOOK OUT!” Techno jumped out of his boat onto shore and killed the newly spawned baby zombie in two hits with his sword.

“Techno oh my God,” but Phil was laughing and couldn’t hardly bring himself to look annoyed.

“Look, let’s just get to my base as quickly as possible. We wouldn't want anything to happen to Hubert.”

So they made their way through the tundra to Techno’s base, fighting off mobs, chatting among themselves, and Phil let Techno be the one to pull the skeleton along even though he was entirely capable of doing it by himself. They came around a corner up to Techno’s base, and just managed to get the mobs safely in the basement without suffocating them.

“So why were you trying to move out of your base, Techno?” Phil asked.

“Well after the L’Manburg war I lost everything. They came and ransacked my base, I couldn’t do anything about it. I think Tubbo took several stacks of emeralds.” Techno looked around his safe house, now secret and tucked away somewhere safe with everything that he cared about. Nobody would be able to steal things that he loved now. “They even took my books.”

“Oh,” said Phil.

“Wait,” Techno turned to Phil, “You took them didn’t you.” He felt his heart drop a little bit, he had just complained about all of those things going missing for hours. But Phil, Phil was Special and Different. It would be okay, Techno thought, If Phil had taken the books.

“Well,” Phil said, “I did say before I took them, “Are you sure Technoblade?””

“That is true,” Technoblade admitted, “You did.”

“And I also made sure to ask you, “May I help myself to anything, or is there anything at all that you still need?””

“Yes,” Technoblade said, “You did do that.”

“And I did my best to say thank you. And I really needed those books.” Phil said, sounding very quiet this time.

“You know what,” Techno said, trying to take back two hours of being everything that a Good and Generous pig of his caliber was not supposed to be, “For you, the world Phil.”

“Oh,” said Phil. “Thank you Techno.”

“Would you like to come inside our base and have some potatoes?” Techno asked, opening the door to the upstairs.

“Yes, I think I would.”

So they went inside and had dinner together, and dried themselves off by the fire, and had hot chocolate together. And while I can’t be certain, I believe they talked there for quite some time, feeling happy, and remembering what it is like to be safe and comfortable around someone else again.

#technoblade #philza #winnie the pooh au #dream smp #dream smp fanfiction #dsmp #dsmp fanfiction

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minmotl · 4 years

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Chapter 60-61: Tang Fan Gets Blisters on the Insides of His Thighs, Sui Zhou Asks Him to Take Off His Pants

Context: Sui Zhou and Tang Fan (and their respective teams) embark on their journey to He Nan Province. Tang Fan ended up having to bring along Yin Yuan Hua, one of the officials in Tang Fan’s department who he bested, and whose supervisor/shifu in the same department Tang Fan offended (for good reason!). Yin Yuan Hua’s mission on this trip is to gather evidence of Tang Fan’s wrongdoings/mistakes so he can go back and report him to higher-ups, and hopefully this will end in Tang Fan’s demotion.

Also a Note: I’m doing the first half of 61 for context (because the case is pretty complex plus all the new characters lolol) and the second half of 61 where the cute fanzhou moments are, but from now onwards Tang Fan and Sui Zhou are hanging out with each other like 24/7

AMAZING TIDBITS:

Pants stripping

Sexual innuendos

Tang Fan and his tongue licks Sui Zhou’s finger

Sui Zhou feeding Tang Fan pastries

Fanzhou shares a bed XD

Introduction Post | Masterpost

—

Highlights under the cut

Tang Fan and the rest of them set off from Jing City, and head in the direction of He Nan Province on land.

Sui Zhou left Xue Ling back in the Northern Administrative Court to hold the fort, and he himself, along with Pang Qi included, brought along 20 close guards. With Tang Fan, they head south, tasked as an imperial convoy.

Although this case is hardly the most urgent, it involves the life and death of others and also the robbery of royal and imperial tombs, so there is no time to waste. Everyone began the journey riding horses, but after rushing on the roads for two days, the disparity between the Embroidered Uniform Guards and civil officials slowly became increasingly visible.

The guards are a bunch of brash old men and have thick and tough skins. Moreover, after going through Sui Zhou’s hellish training, all of them have already been polished into people with bodies and bones of steel. That being said, even without Sui Zhou’s intensified training, for army officials like them, riding horses and rushing along is a simple thing to them.

The same cannot be said of civil officials, however. These officials spend most of their days in the courts and the hardest manual labour they have done is at most serving tea. Suddenly having to ride horses for two days consecutively, it feels as if their bodies and bones are about to fall apart. And what they could not say was that every one of them had blisters on the inside of both their thighs, and some of these have already burst and are bleeding. They hurt like burns.

As the formal lead envoy, Tang Fan of course has to act like the leader he is and grit his teeth in determination regardless of the circumstances. It does not take Sui Zhou long to discover that these civil officials can no longer go on, and orders the guards to slow down their pace. He also quickly takes out some ointment for Tang Fan and the rest to use on their wounds.

Since their leader can withstand this, the two officials under Tang Fan naturally are in no place to complain. Instead, it is Yin Yuan Hua who insists on not riding horses anymore and demands that they switch to a horse carriage.

The Embroidered Uniform Guards do not look upon these civil officials kindly, but they also know that their Sui-laoda has a good personal relationship with Tang Fan, and it is rumoured that this formal lead envoy is staying right in Sui-laoda’s house.

This Yin Yuan Hua, on the other hand, is obviously not on good terms with Tang Fan, and this is easily seen when he speaks with Tang Fan, and even when he does not speak. Both of them are not on the same side, and the guards do not dare to mock the formal lead envoy, so naturally, they focus their attention and provoking remarks onto Yin Yuan Hua instead.

One of them wriggles his eyebrows, “Aiyo, someone thinks he’s out here to sightsee, and wants to even sit on a horse carriage? Does he also want a beaded curtain? Like those esteemed ladies, or wives, when they hide half their faces, and are embarrassed even before they speak!”

Another laughs snidely, “How do you know if he isn’t a little wife? Don’t tell me you’ve seen what he looks like without clothes on?”

Earlier, their group passed by a official’s relay post, and decided to stop for a rest. Tang Fan and Sui Zhou are formal lead and co-lead envoys, and wanting to interact freely, they are unwilling to share a table with their leaders even at meals, and so Sui Zhou and Tang Fan have a table to themselves. Yin Yuan Hua and the two civil officials share another, and the rest of the guards are scattered around. So once the next table speaks, Yin Yuan Hua can hear them extremely well.

How would he not know that these people are speaking about him? Fury courses through him immediately and slamming his chopsticks on the table, he gets to his feet and says, “Who are you talking about!”

It would have been better if he did not stand up, because once he gets to his feet, his thighs cramp up immediately, sending Yin Yuan Hua into unbearable pain, and this garners the mockery of the group of guards.

Although Tang Fan doesn’t think much of Yin Yuan Hua, but on this trip, he is formal lead envoy and is also Yin Yuan Hua’s supervisor. As a leader, he needs to have the aptitude of one and so he cannot just stand by and let Yin Yuan Hua be mocked like this. He uses the other end of his chopsticks and pokes at Sui Zhou’s arm.

Sui Zhou lightly coughs and his sharp gaze sweeps over his group of men, and they immediately stop laughing, burying their heads into their rice and meal.

After their meal, Yin Yuan Hua insists on not riding horses, wanting to sit on a horse carriage and head to He Nan.

Both of the other civil officials are also suffering silently, and so turn their hopeful eyes onto Tang Fan.

With a strange expression, he asks, “All of you really want to sit on a carriage?”

The officials do not dare reply, and Yin Yuan Hua interjects, “We must have a carriage. We lower-ranked officials cannot compare to daren, we don’t have to deal with the pressure which comes with the formal lead envoy position. Comfort is of importance, and we’re not afraid of being mocked by others!”

In his words is hidden mockery at Tang Fan bringing suffering upon himself, all to salvage his pride.

Tang Fan says, “We may not have enough horses at the next relay post, so once you switch to a carriage, if you regret it, you will still have to sit in it until we reach He Nan.”

The more he says, the more Yin Yuan Hua feels that Tang Fan is deliberately making things difficult for him, and so insists on sitting in a carriage and nothing else.

He has already said this much and given them a friendly reminder, but they will not listen, so there is nothing to do but to let them have their way. He asks the official in charge of the relay post to prepare the horse carriage.

The carriage itself is still considered quite spacious and has enough space for Yin Yuan Hua and two other officials to sit in. The official also found a driver for them, and once the carriage reaches its destination, it is just nice for the driver to return with it.

The three of them happily get on the carriage after seeing that the insides are padded with cushions, and this is definitely more comfortable than riding the horses.

In the end, just after they crossed several kilometres, Yin Yuan Hua and the rest suddenly realise why Tang Fan revealed that indescribable expression earlier after they insisted on sitting in a horse carriage. Because this is even more shaky and turbulent than riding a horse…

Yin Yuan Hua regrets as he finally gets a taste of what it means to strike his own foot with a rock he’s moving.

Not only just him, but both Cheng Wen and Tian Xuan, are regretting their decision immensely.

It is such a turbulent journey, and just before their souls are shaken out of their cores, they finally arrive at Gong County.

Before the group of them arrived at Gong County, the county’s magistrate had already brought his men out to the official relay post right next to the official’s travel channel early on to wait for them.

“Daren, how about you come in and rest your feet?” the county deputy, who has also come out to welcome the group, cannot help but ask the magistrate, who is pacing back and forth so much it’s making him dizzy.

Aside from the deputy and other officials, which include both low and high ranking ones, plenty of other well-known gentlemen also wanted to accompany them originally, but were all rejected by the magistrate. He is facing so many cases right now, how would he have any more energy to bring these people along and let them create trouble in front of him?

Before his trustworthy deputy, the magistrate does not hide his face full of worry, “Hai, laodi ah, it’s not like you don’t know, these envoys are not here to sightsee, they’re here to investigate a case. At the end of the day, trouble happened to the imperial tombs within my jurisdiction, and if we don’t handle this properly, I will not be able to keep this futou of mine!”

The deputy advises, “Daren, it is futile for you to be frustrated about this, you might as well cooperate well with the envoys, and then ask them for a favour so they can go back and help put in a good word for you, who knows, this huge matter may turn into a small one!”

The magistrate sighs, “That’s all I can do at this point. I’m such an unlucky magistrate, the former magistrate and the one before him left a huge mess of things when they passed on their positions, and the imperial tombs were left untouched, but these messes I still had to deal with! No one knew of my efforts, and now that the imperial tomb is involved, the responsibility for this has instead fallen onto my head!”

Which official has not been dragged into one or two terrible events, thinks the deputy. How is it possible for an official to have a smooth career all his life, it is the magistrate who was afraid of trouble in the first place, and now he is complaining about this instead of thinking about how to properly suck up to the incoming imperial envoys. What future can he count on like this?

Unfortunately he is the man’s subordinate and although these are his true thoughts, he still ends up properly reassuring his magistrate.

In the midst of their conversation, a group of men and horses approach from the distance and gradually slows down, the dust picking up around them, and behind, it looks like there is a horse carriage accompanying the group as well.

The magistrate and his deputy head out, and a minor official comes over with news, saying that the people ahead are indeed the imperial envoys.

“Quickly accompany me to fetch them!” the magistrate says, adjusting his uniform and hat.

The speed of the horse carriage is not fast and Sui Zhou’s subordinates in front seem to have deliberately slowed down to wait for the carriage at the back, and only after a minute or so does the whole group, which was already visible from a while ago, arrive.

Right in the middle of the other Embroidered Uniform Guards, a young man wearing a Rank Five uniform and an Embroidered Uniform Guard wearing a feiyu uniform are surrounded.

The magistrate quickly approaches them and offering both his hands in greeting, he says, “Gong County Magistrate He Hao Si greets the imperial envoy!”

Although he is unsure who is actually the formal lead envoy, but this greeting will certainly do no wrong.

The official document sent by the Department of Justice also clearly says that the lead envoy is the department’s overseeing langzhong in Henan’s Qing Li Si, Tang Fan, and the co-lead is the Embroidered Uniform Guards’ acting zhen fu shi, Sui Zhou. However, since both lead and co-lead envoys are here, then who is the one sitting in the horse carriage at the back?

Could it be an even more important person?

Magistrate He cannot help but look towards the back.

Instead, he sees the Embroidered Uniform Guard next to the civil official move backwards a little to put some distance between them, indicating the difference in status between him and the civil official. He opens his mouth and affirms Magistrate He’s guess, “This is Henan’s Qing Li Si langzhong, Tang-daren, and he is the formal lead envoy.”

Tang Fan wearily gets off his horse and returns Magistrate He’s greeting, “Magistrate He does not need to stand on ceremony, we have been on the roads for days, shall we first find a place to sit and talk?”

“Yes yes yes!” Magistrate He returns to himself, and hurriedly says, “This official has already readied the relay post, and also asked them to prepare food and hot water. I’d like to ask everyone to move into the city, it is not far away from here.”

Tang Fan nods, “Then I’ll have to trouble Magistrate He to show us the way.”

***

“Come over here.”

Tang Fan takes a look at the ointment in his hands, and cannot help but laugh, the sound dry, “You see, I’ve used the bandages for so many days, it’s almost healed, so I don’t need to put it on anymore, it’s uncomfortable!”

Sui Zhou’s face is cold, “Come over when I tell you to come over, whether or not it has healed, wouldn’t you know best?”

Of course he has not yet healed.

Tang-daren’s face falls, and he slowly ambles his way over.

“Lie down, take off your pants and pick up your shirt.”

“…”

No matter the circumstances, this conversation sounds only too intimate, and if anyone were to pass by on the outside, it’s likely they will misunderstand, but the reality could not be further from that.

Tang Fan’s physique is not much better than Yin Yuan Hua and the rest, and he has ridden on a horse for so many days consecutively. Naturally, he is unable to withstand this, but sitting in a horse carriage is worse, and he knows that just by seeing the way Yin Yuan Hua threw up. In comparison, it is only his butt and the sides of both his thighs that hurt riding the hose, and not his whole body. Weighing between both to see which is more important, as the biggest lead in this mission, Tang-daren would rather suffer than lose all pride like the way Yin Yuan Hua did.

This is called suffering as one would rather die than lose pride and face.

The posterior is one thing, as it is shaken here and there; the area is a bit thicker, so it doesn’t matter as much. The main thing is the insides of his thighs, which has been subjected to endless friction and movement in contact with the horse. Blisters formed, and then bled when the skin was broken through.

It is a must to put some ointment on if he is hurt, and in the beginning, Tang Fan was worried of losing face, too embarrassed to ask for help, until Sui Zhou forcibly restrained him to put the medicine on.

Now, having to put on a fresh round of ointment every night has become something that Tang-daren is most reluctant to do.

If he could choose, he figures he would rather go to the Luo River and warmly face the River God there, than to lie flat on the bed like this with both legs spread open, his pants taken off and his shirt picked up, letting Sui Zhou change the bandages around his injured parts.

Although they are both men and the parts he should have, he has, and the parts that he should not have, he does not have, but Tang Fan just feels incredibly uncomfortable. Staring at the ceiling above him, he disassociates, only to hide his embarrassment.

Sui Zhou seems to be able to see through his thoughts and finds it really hilarious inside, but on the surface, he retains his stoicism. Circling the bandage around Tang Fan’s legs, he pretends to accidentally brush his eyes past Tang Fan’s groin, peering at it for a moment, before saying, “The form is not bad.”

Even though Tang Fan is pretending to be dead, he is still conscious and attentive, and the moment the other’s words sound in his ears, he cannot help but go red in both his face and ears, and furious, he says, “How dare you, assessing the lead envoy like this, do you not want to live anymore?”

Sui Zhou goes ‘oh’, and then, “I am an envoy too.”

“You’re a co-lead, and I am the lead, cut out the nonsense, you should strip and let this official assess yours as well!”

Sui Zhou, “You are certain you want to see?”

“Of course!”

He thought Sui Zhou would come up with an excuse to refuse, but who knew the other simply stands up without another word, and reaches out to loosen his trousers belt.

Tang Fan hurriedly says, “ Forget it, forget it, I know you’re smaller than me, if your ego takes a hit later this is not good, all men want to save face, so I will go easy on you this once.”

“No matter, I do not mind,” Sui Zhou returns.

“…”

Sui Zhou only wants to tease Tang Fan, he is not this despicable. And seeing that Tang Fan is about to explode in anger, Sui Zhou goes with the flow and stops. He brings a plate of pastries over from the table, picks up one, and personally brings it to Tang Fan’s mouth.

Under the dim glow of the candle light, Tang Fan cannot see the shape of the clear jujube cake, but the flavour as it enters his mouth is extremely good. Sour and sweet, and for a moment, it is a familiar taste to him, similar to the one the cooking lady at home made when he was younger.

He cannot help but curl his tongue, reaching for the rest of the pastry piece, only to sweep across Sui Zhou’s finger accidentally. The other freezes slightly, and snatches his hand back quickly.

Tang Fan does not take this to heart, and instead squints as he fully savours the flavours on his tastebuds. He nods, and praises, “The pastry that Deputy Zhao chose is really not bad! It is a pity this place is filled with evil, and such good pastries are wasted here. We may have to start rushing about sometime in the middle of tomorrow night!”

Sui Zhou gets him to wear his trousers properly, and bends down himself to adjust the bedsheets and covers. He asks, “You saw something amiss?”

Tang Fan shoves another piece of jujube cake into this mouth and instead of answering him, responds with a question, “You can see it too?”

“Don’t eat too much, or you won’t be able to sleep later,” Sui Zhou frowns and nags. Then, “That old man seems suspicious.”

Tang Fan nods, and opens his mouth, about to speak, but because the cake slides into his throat, he ends up almost choking to death. He brings his hand up, holding onto his throat and the whites of his eyes can be seen.

Exasperated, Sui Zhou goes over to pat at his back, then gives him a cup of tea, “How did you actually survive the past twenty years?”

Drinking the tea and sending the cake down along with it, Tang Fan finally heaves a sigh of relief before laughing, “A menace like this official will naturally be alive for a thousand years. That old man is indeed suspicious, and although he seems incoherent when speaking, it does look more like his behaviour is deliberate.”

Sui Zhou makes a noise of assent, waiting for him to continue.

“There are a few possibilities. Firstly, those people were killed by the old village chief, but this isn’t very likely. I can’t think of a reason why he would kill all these people. Besides, he is a weak elderly, so unless he had some help, it is impossible for him to harm so many people. So let’s set this possibility aside for now.”

“Second, that old man, or even the whole village, are in cahoots with the tomb raiders, and are doing all they can to mislead us, directing us to focus on the possibility of a malevolent ghost. Maybe after the robbers raided the imperial tomb, they promised to distribute some of their loot to the villagers in exchange for their help in keeping this a secret. The people who were killed discovered this, and wanted to report them.”

Tang Fan slowly analyses that hypothesis, then shakes his head, “But this is not fully explainable. The clues that we have on hand are too little, it is very difficult to guess what the truth is.”

“There’s still one more possibility,” Sui Zhou says.

Tang Fan looks at him, and he continues, “What the old man said is true.”

“You believe in ghosts too?”

Sui Zhou shakes his head, “It might not be a ghost, but it could be something else. Whether the old village chief has truly gone insane or is pretending to be, he is definitely hiding something from us, and has not told us everything.”

Tang Fan laughs, “We tried the civil, courteous route first, and next can bring out the troops. It looks like we have to get the Embroidered Uniform Guards to take over.”

In terms of interrogations and forcibly getting confessions, there is no other group of people more adept at this than the guards. When people hear of interrogations, they often think of cruel torturous methods, but in actual fact, a lot of other methods exist in this world which will make one obediently vomit out the truth without any physical torture. These methods are most commonly used on officials who refuse to speak the truth and yet cannot be subjected to torture; a secret that is passed only within the guards and is unique.

Using it against an old man in a poor and removed village, is considered using a blade that is made for slaughtering cows, to slaughter a chicken.

Sui Zhou says, “We’ll talk tomorrow and rest now.”

Yes, it is almost the hai hour (9-11pm), and they naturally must rest.

It is quiet outside, not even the slightest sounds can be heard from livestock or dogs, and all living creatures have also descended into sleep. Saying it is entirely silent, however, is not correct. At the very least, the Luo River which is a short distance away continues to flow, day or night. The rush of water charging forth fills up their ears, but once one gets used to listening to this, it does not bother them much. Instead, it almost feels as if their troubled thoughts are being scrubbed clean by the river.

The bed space is not cramped or narrow, and is more than sufficient for two people to lie on it. Tang Fan sleeps on the inside, and Sui Zhou sleeps on the outside.

Although the both of them stay under the same roof, they have never slept shoulder to shoulder like they are doing today, previously. The both of them are really too tired, but sometimes, when one is too exhausted, it is instead more difficult to fall asleep.

Sui Zhou hears Tang Fan’s tossing and turning and says, “Turn over.”

Tang Fan does not ask why and turns over so his back is facing the other, and then he feels a warm palm cup over his jaw. Another hand slowly presses at a few acupuncture points at the back of his head.

The tension in his brain dissipates gradually, and Tang Fan moans once, comfortable. The person behind him is applying just the right amount of force, not too light, and not too heavy. He feels the pull of slumber come up as the exhaustion emerges again, and quickly enter the land of dreams.

In the middle of the night, he has a strange dream.

In it, he is walking along the dark river banks and in the vast land in the distance, many tombstones, high and low, have been erected. The wind blows past him, and along with it brings the sound of cries. The cries are devastating, as if filled with endless suffering, pain and resentment. The sound echoes in the space and then digs into Tang Fan’s ears, sending shivers down his spine.

The cries approach, coming closer and closer, closer and even closer, and suddenly, it seems like there is something behind him! The sensation is unclear to him, all he knows is that he has never felt this afraid before.

Slowly, he turns his head, and jolting, he opens his eyes.

“Don’t move,” Sui Zhou says, his voice low next to his ear, his arm stretching across Tang Fan’s waist.

Hearing his voice, the heart that was racing because of his nightmare slowly calms.

Then he quickly realises that the intolerable wails does not seem to exist just in his dreams, but is originating right from outside!

===

Notes:

*乌纱帽 wu sha mao

Also commonly called a 乌帽 (wu mao) or futou, this is the headwear for Ming dynasty officials, with a tall cylindrical top and two flaps on the sides.

*河南清吏司郎中 he nan qing li zi lang zhong

This is a full official rank. It is a little hard to find an English equivalent to this on my end so I’ve left it as that. 河南 (he nan) is a city all on its own in today’s map, and in this case it means Tang Fan is heads this particular court located in he nan. I’m not really familiar on the geography of it as well, it could just be a name for the neighbourhood or sector he’s in as well.

*镇抚使 zhen fu shi

Another official rank, where 镇抚 (zhen fu) is the Administrative Court, and 使 (shi) on its own means ambassador. In this case, it can be interpreted as chief, or some equivalent. He is not a commander yet in this case, which is a position reserved for Yuan Bin, and previously Wan Tong.

*搬起石头砸自己脚 ban qi shi tou za zi ji de jiao

This means literally to pick up a stone and smashing your own foot with it, which means inadvertently and directly causing harm to yourself with a decision you made. I left the metaphor in the translations above because it’s interesting, the imagery!

*祸害遗千年 huo hai yi qian nian

This is a common phrase used to say that a menace or evil being will survive for thousands of years, and good people are doomed to die early in a second part to this phrase.

*杀鸡用牛刀 sha ji yong niu nian

Literally means to use a blade for slaughtering a cow to kill a chicken, which also means to apply unnecessary and excessive force to a matter which requires minimal effort. Or going overboard when the matter or thing requires much lesser force.

#the sleuth of ming dynasty #tsomd #成化十四年 #cheng hua shi si nian #fanzhou #suitang #sui zhou #tang fan #tsomd novel #novel translations #this is definitely one of the chaps i like more hahaha

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starscheme · 5 years

Text

Change My World

Chapter One: That Fateful Day

July, 7, 42-61

That day was to be a simple run about town. The streets were alive and the townsfolk more chipper than I’ve ever see them. With everyone in such high spirits, surely this year’s festival was shaping up to be something grand.

However, it wasn’t long before I learned of the reason for all the excitement. As it turns out, a mermaid had been captured. They were bringing her in on the next boat and it was already docking. A mermaid hadn’t been seen in over one thousand years. They used to live close to the shores, until fear spread amongst the people on land. Now, capturing a mermaid was an easy path to gold and perhaps a new title.

The mermaid would be put on display for everyone to see. It was a tradition that when a mermaid was captured, it would be toured for entertainment on its way to the capital where it would be presented to the royal family in exchange for a reward.

Though it was mostly curiosity that led me there, it turned out that very curiosity would lead me down a road I never imagined for myself. For that was the day I met my first mermaid and the day…my life changed forever. It was on that day; I met Spinel. -S, Universe

Though it was meant to be just another day for the town, the streets bustled about as if the Queen herself was to make an appearance. Steven had already finished his morning routine, making sure to buy the supplies he needed for the next week or so. The young man had only just turned 17yrs old, but was already living on his own just outside of town. His father, missing for the last four years of his life had already been presumed dead.

It was because of this, the people in town knew Steven well. Many families had offered to take him in, but the boy refused every time, ever optimistic that his father would come home and shrugging off the ones that insisted Greg was no longer of this world.

“Steven!” A young girl called out as she pushed her way through the unusual high volume of people on the street.

“Oh, good morning Connie,” Steven greeted with a smile.

Connie Maheswaran. A young, bespectacled woman that had been a close friend to Steven ever since his father disappeared. Her dark skin was covered in dirt already and her long ebony hair had been messily tied up in a bun, no doubt in haste. Though she wore a rather expensive looking dress, it was tied up towards her knees, clearly in an attempt to keep the hem from the dirt, but it appeared that had failed miserably.

“Your mother is going to throw a fit when she sees you,” Steven chuckled.

Connie looked down at herself and smiled nervously as she pat her dress down, loosening the string that tied it up to her knees and letting it flow down towards her ankles once more. “Yeah, well…I really wanted to get a look at the ship that’s bringing the mermaid in. Trying to get through the crowd in this dress was such a hassle and my hair kept getting caught.”

“But how’d you get so dirty?”

Connie sighed miserably, “I…got into a little scuffle with one of the boys.”

“Again?” asked Steven, unsurprised.

“Listen to this, Steven,” Connie insisted, “he was talking about the mermaid in such a rude manner! He was laughing and even said he hoped she would misbehave so he could see her punished! I couldn’t just sit back after hearing that. Before I knew it, my book was out of my hands and knocking him in the back of the head. I mean, don’t you think this is barbaric?! The first mermaid to be seen in my lifetime and she’s to be caged on display as some side show before she’s hauled off to the capital like the ones in the past. When my father told me about this morning, I nearly screamed in protest. I wanted to get close enough to the boat so the sailors could hear me, but then I heard that boy…”

Steven listened as Connie continued to talk about the injustice humanity was practicing. Though she tended to lose herself when she got fired up, it’s why Steven enjoyed her company. She wasn’t like most of the other townsfolk. She was always pushing for change and speaking out against something she found to be unfair. People might have shunned her for it if it weren’t for her Mothers position. Being a Doctor was a well respected profession and no one dared offend the physicians only daughter, lest their own children ever needed treatment.

“…I mean it’s just deplorable,” continued Connie with a frown as she looked out at the celebrating masses. “This kind of prejudice is disgusting.”

Steven nodded his head, noticing that the crowd had nearly doubled in size since they began talking. “…I agree. I’d love to see a mermaid…but not like this. I mean, it’s not just this, but who knows what happens to them at the capital.”

“The royal family should asham—-eep!” Connie was confident in her words until she spotted her father weaving his way through the crowds. Remembering her filthy dress, Connie grabbed Stevens bag of supplies in a panic.

“Hey! Don’t you have to go and report in for work soon? I bet you don’t have time to take these home. Why don’t I do that for you? I’ll be sure to look for you after your shift ends! Bye Steven!” She spoke so quickly and rushed off without waiting for a reply that Steven just sighed with a smile.

Now that he no longer had to make his trip home, Steven made his way to the boardwalk where he reported daily for work. With the festival only a day away, there were a lot of odd jobs to go around and Steven was in high demand for most manual labor jobs since he seemed to be a lot stronger than the other men.

“Ah, Steven my boy,” greeted an overly cheerful looking man.

“Good morning, Mr. Smiley. You need any help today?” asked Steven as the man threw an arm around his shoulder.

“I sure do! I’ve been waiting to hand out this job just for you, Steven. I need someone real strong and trustworthy. You might have heard that a mermaid is being brought in, well, it just happens she’s going to be displayed right in the middle of my amusement park! Can you imagine all the business that’s going to bring me?” exclaimed the joyous man with a chuckle. “So I need you to set up the stage.”

Steven grimaced. He didn’t like the idea of helping to humiliate the mermaid in any way. “Ah…I’d rather do something else…”

“But Steven, who else could I trust with this?” Mr. Smiley asked as his smile faded. He scanned the people around them before leaning in close, “between you and me,” he began in a hushed voice, “the mermaid is already back stage. I can’t just let anyone help with the set up. You’re the most honest kid I know. Anyone else might try to steal a scale or hurt the creature just for kicks. So I was really hoping that you could…you know, keep an eye on the mermaid a bit. I don’t think anyone could out muscle you to get to her.”

It was true. Though Steven knew most people in town wouldn’t be so cruel, there were a lot of strangers from other places hoping to see the mermaid and who knew how many of them hated her just out of prejudice. “…f…fine.” Steven agreed reluctantly.

“That’s my boy!” exclaimed Mr. Smiley, leaning back up and slapping the boys back with his trademark grin restored. “Be sure to find me before the curtain goes up! I’ll be sure to reward you!”

“…just the regular pay is fine…” said Steven quietly. He didn’t even know if he wanted to get paid for something like this. Once he was given his instructions, Steven trudged to the backstage area where the mermaid was being held. Even if he was a little curious to see his first Mermaid, this was not how he hoped it would happen. As he approached, two men stood at attention, seemingly guarding the cage where the mermaid was being held. Though it appeared to be a large cage, it was covered by a loose curtain. All Steven could see was the very bottom and a faint pink fin that swished along the floor of the cage.

“I’m here to…relieve you…I guess.” Steven announced to the gentlemen, pulling out a piece of paper that Mr. Smiley had given him.

One of the guards smiled, “Finally. My feet are killing me. We’ve been at sea with this thing for weeks and I need a break.”

Steven frowned. Why did he have to interact with people like this? Connie was right. Simply deplorable. “…Shouldn’t she be in water?” he asked as he looked past the men, noting how she appeared to be inside a dry cage.

“Don’t you know anything about mermaids, kid?” One of the guards asked with a raised brow. “In the water, they can use magic and stuff. If you want to keep on docile, you have to make sure they don’t get any water.”

“but isn’t that painful?” Steven asked, unable to hide his concern. “They NEED water.”

“It’s not gonna kill the thing. Just makes it weak, and trust me, you don’t want this thing to gain any strength. I was there when our captain caught the beast. We’re lucky it didn’t kill us all at sea. Now, don’t be no bleed’n heart and just make sure no one gets too close to the thing, ‘kay?” With that, the guards walked off, laughing as they exchanged jokes. Surely about Steven’s concern for the mermaid.

He waited a good few minutes to make sure neither of the sailors would be coming back for anything. Once he was he’d be left alone, he took a deep breath and apologized to Mr. Smiley internally. How could he possibly sit idly by while this happened? Especially when he had this rare chance to actually do something about it? He turned towards the cage and grabbed the heavy curtain, pulling it off with ease to reveal the mermaid at last.

Steven stared in awe for a moment once he caught sight of the creature. The mermaid had a light pink tint to her human skin, but her scales were a brighter pink, covering most of her chest in what appeared to be the shape of an upside down heart. Her tail was covered in those bright pink scales as well, the fin at the bottom nearly transparent against the cage floor. Her face was mostly human, save for the ears that resembled a fish’s fin. She had dull red hair that had been pinned up in pigtails, but what Steven noticed more than anything else, was her bright, magenta colored eyes and the dark lines that ran down her cheeks like permanent tears. The mermaid was breathing heavily, her arms above her head as she was tied tight around the wrists with a rope that connected to the roof of the cage. She had been glaring at Steven the moment he removed the curtain. Even if her gaze was full of scorn, Steven couldn’t help but think she was beautiful.

Taking a knee in order to meet her gaze, Steven leaned close, placing his hands on the bars. “My name is Steven. …what’s yours?” he asked in a whisper.

The mermaid only continued to leer at him, either unwilling to speak or unable to. She did look terribly weak. Not having any water must have really done a number on her and he didn’t know enough about Mermaids to know exactly how it affected them. He actually didn’t know if she could even understand him. He looked around the cage and then scanned the backstage area. How was he supposed to get her out of here without anyone noticing? No matter how heavy she was, Steven was sure that wouldn’t be a problem for him, but he couldn’t just carry her off in his arms in broad daylight. There were too many people wandering around they were all on edge to see the mermaid. He’d have to find something to hide her in that no one would find too suspicious.

The mermaid watched cautiously as Steven rushed about backstage, gathering up random things and large wheelbarrow. He placed everything in a pile beside the cage and looked around once again. Though he was trying to be cautious, he also knew he had to be quick. Who knew when the sailors would return. Leaning back down to meet the mermaids eyes, Steven offered a smile, hoping that even if she didn’t understand him, she would see he was not trying to hurt her.

“I’m going to get you out of here,” he stated calmly before he grabbed the bars and began to pull, gritting his teeth as they slowly started to budge. The mermaid watched in surprise now, amazed that a human had enough strength to pull off these iron bars. Once the bars were removed, Steven placed them down carefully and slipped his way into the cage.

The mermaid’s tail swished along the floor as she attempted to back up against the bars, pulling at the ropes that held her wrists. Steven could see he had alarmed her. Holding his hands up, he stopped moving. “…I’m not going to hurt you, but we have to hurry. I have to get you out of here before someone comes to check on you.” He insisted quietly.

With a raised brow, the mermaid allowed Steven to get closer, watching in confusion as he reached up and worked to untie the ropes that held her wrists. The ropes fell down into the mermaids lap and she pulled her arms back to herself with a brief look of relief. Glancing down, Steven could see how bruised and red her wrists were, the scales had all but been rubbed off or peeled back. It must have been from her struggling. He wanted to give her time, but they didn’t have much to spare. “…I’m sorry they hurt you. …If you can understand me a little…I need to put you in there,” he explained, pointing to the wheelbarrow behind him. “I’ll try and get you to the water, but I have to hide you or they’ll just catch you again.”

The mermaid stared in silence, glancing from Steven to the junk pile behind him. Even though it seemed like he didn’t want to hurt her, she couldn’t be sure that this wasn’t some trick. Perhaps he just wanted to capture her himself in order to get the reward instead of that ship’s captain. Once more, he seemed under the impression that she couldn’t understand him. So why was he telling her that he’d help her to escape if he thought she didn’t speak his language? Was that some part his plan to trick her? Still, there weren’t a lot of other chances to get out of here and if he was planning on keeping her for himself, there may have been a better chance to get the upper hand with just him. “…Okay.” She answered finally.

Steven gasped lightly. Her voice may have been hoarse and weak, but he heard her clearly. With a bright smile, he extended his arms slowly. Now that he was sure she could understand him, this was going to be much easier. “I’m going to pick you up and put you in there,” he informed her before scooping her up effortlessly, once again surprising the mermaid with his strength. Surely her tail was quite heavy on land. Placing her inside the wheelbarrow as gently as he could, he looked down at her sympathetically as he grabbed a couple heavy curtains for the stage. “I’m sorry, I’m gonna have to cover you with a few things. Try not to move either, or someone might think something is up.”

She said nothing, but nodded her head in response. With one last smile towards her, Steven placed the curtains over her, doing his best to be careful as he attempted to arrange her tail inside the wheelbarrow comfortably. He could see all the missing scales and cuts that she had sustained and he didn’t want to cause her anymore pain. Once she was completely covered up, Steven placed a few more random things on top of her, making sure it was as light as possible. The last thing he did was cover the cage back up, hopefully in order to give them a head start. Steven took a long, deep breath. This was the first crime he had ever committed, but if it was to save someone, so be it. He just hoped that he could get her into the water before he was caught, so at the very least, she could get home safely.

A/N: Hello Everyone! Thanks for reading the first chapter! I hope you all enjoyed it! I’ll get working on Chapter Two right away! If you want to see drawings of this AU, you can follow me on Tumblr. I’ll also be posting updates on the story’s progress there. The story will also be posted on Fanfiction.net My Username is the same on both platforms. See you all later!

#steven universe #su #Mermaid AU #Spinel #Mermaid spinel #Change my world.#chapter one #steven and spinel

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creativenostalgiastuff · 7 years

Text

A Virgil Affliction: Chapter 7: Perceived Threat

Rating: T Pairings: LAMP/CALM (platonic) Warnings: Anxiety, anxiety attack, medication Author’s Note: I really enjoyed writing this chapter, especially the end. Word Count: 2130 Need to catch up? First Chapter Previous Chapter

Virgil stood in Thomas’ living room, staring at the device’s screen. His shoulders rose and fell heavily as time seemed to slow around him, adrenaline kicking in. His eyes shifted up slightly to look at Thomas. Was Thomas okay?

Thomas’ eyes were watching Virgil carefully, a crease in his brow giving away his concern. “You okay, buddy?”

Virgil didn’t know how to answer that question. He was on edge, that much was clear. He glanced back at the text on the screen of the Smartwatch: THREAT LEVEL 2: LEAVE/Flight.

The device said that this was a level 2 situation. What on Earth did that mean? Level 2 must be worse than 1, right? It almost had to be. But it was telling him to leave. How would that solve anything? Was Thomas safe if he listened to this brand new device that was telling him what to do? What if there was a threat Virgil could protect them from?

The device vibrated again, more insistent now. Virgil folded his arms, tucking the device under the arm of the hand that he was now chewing on the nails of. What was he going to do? If only the manual had been more complete.

Virgil’s head snapped up with the idea, “Logan?”

“Yes?”

“Where’s the manual?”

Logan’s eyes lit up in understanding, “Oh, right! I have it.” He sunk out of the room only to reappear two seconds later with the manual in his hand.

“What’s that?” asked Thomas, trying to twist himself to see the cover.

Logan flipped through a few pages, “It’s the manual for the device on Virgil’s wrist. It explains what the different codes are that might appear on the device. Although earlier we found it to be somewhat incomplete, it appears that more information is added the more we learn about the device.”

“What does it say now?” Roman chimed in.

Virgil sighed and looked at the screen, “Level 2.”

“Ah!” exclaimed Logan, a smile creeping on his face at the discovery. “Here’s level two: A threat level two would be that there is a perceived threat to Thomas but is really nothing to worry about and again can be managed with traditional methods by Virgil. This would be like a balloon popping.”

“Or an upcoming performance?” Roman asked.

Logan nodded, “Or an upcoming test.”

“But what’s the perceived threat this time?” asked Thomas. “I mean, everything seems fine.”

“Well, we’d have to ask Virgil that,” answered Logan.

Virgil shifted awkwardly under the gaze of his friends. He really didn’t want to answer the question right now. How was he supposed to tell them that he is questioning if the device was trust worthy or not? They were all so excited and hopeful.

It kept buzzing.

“What does it suggest we do?” Patton asked, encouragement filling his voice.

Virgil shrugged. It said leave. Was that really the right choice? What if it was wrong? How could he protect Thomas if he left right now? He could feel his chest tighten, the vibration causing him to tense with each insistent burst. He just wanted it to stop. How could he make it stop?

“Virge?”

Virgil shook his head, tears starting to fill his eyes. This was stupid. This whole thing was stupid. Wasn’t the device supposed to help him? Yet here they were, him getting all worked up because the thing wouldn’t leave him alone.

“Virgil, please look at me,” Roman called. Virgil reluctantly looked at the Prince. “There we go, buddy. I need you to listen, can you put your hands in your pockets? You’re pulling at the band on that thing and rubbing yourself raw.”

Virgil looked down, his eyes growing as he realized that Roman was right. His arm was getting red around the area where the band was on his skin. He shook his head and shoved his hands in his pockets as requested.

Roman’s voice was soft and encouraging, “There we go. Thank you. Now, do you want to go to the mindscape or tell us what’s wrong?”

Virgil opened his mouth, but immediately shut it. He didn’t want to do this. It was dumb. If this medication was supposed to help him, then why was he freaking out?

He could feel the tears start to slip as the device vibrated more. He couldn’t keep in any longer. But he wasn’t about to do this here. Not in front of Thomas. They had other things to do besides worry about him right now.

Virgil sunk out of the living room and back into the empty mindscape. He took a breath, his whole body shaking. Not trusting his legs to keep himself upright in this state, Virgil sat down on the stairs and pulled his legs into his chest. He pulled his hoodie over his head and rested his forehead on his knees. The tears came fast now. This was so stupid. It was just a watch.

A watch that had now altered its vibration pattern now that Virgil thought about it. He concentrated on the vibrations for a moment. Three long buzzes, short break, one long buzz, one short, another long, and a short break. It kept repeating.

Virgil lifted his head and glared at the device. He tapped the screen, causing it to light up. He was surprised to find the screen now had a different message:

REMINDER: you’re okay.

A small laugh escaped Virgil; this dumb thing was now trying to comfort him.

“That’s great,” said Virgil to the device. “But what on earth was the threat?”

REMINDER: Perceived threat

Virgil’s eyes grew, “What the heck? I didn’t think you could respond to me.”

The screen of the device went dark and didn’t respond again. Virgil frowned and tapped the screen a few times.

“Hey there, Kiddo,” Patton said as he sat down next to Virgil on the stairs.

“Hey, Patton,” Virgil sighed, realizing the tension in his chest had lifted.

“You doing okay?” Patton asked, his voice dripping with worry.

Virgil shrugged, “Well I just had a freak out in front of Thomas, so you tell me.”

Patton put an arm around Virgil, allowing Virge to lean into him a bit, “And that’s okay. There’s so much going on right now. Lot’s of things to adjust to.”

Anxiety leaned his head on Morality’s shoulder, “Yeah, you could say that.”

The two sat in silence for a minute. Virgil welcomed the calm, not sure when the last time was where he really felt okay sitting with no talking. He had been so worried about all of the recent events that everything seemed loud and intrusive. But at least now it was starting to settle. It was almost peaceful.

“Can I ask a question?” asked Patton, breaking the silence. “You can say no.”

Virgil sat back upright, “Go for it.”

“Level two is a perceived threat to Thomas, right?”

“That’s what Logan said.”

“What did you think was a threat to Thomas?” inquired Patton in almost a whisper.

“I...” Virgil started before he stopped himself. How was he going to say this? “I thought… I just wondered if the medication was really the best for Thomas. If the device was trustworthy.”

Patton nodded, staring off in thought.

“Does that make me crazy?” asked Anxiety in a small voice.

“No!” Patton shot back, a hint of fire behind his words. “Of course not! Don’t you dare talk about yourself like that.”

Virgil couldn’t help but shy away from Patton’s passionate support, “It was just a question.”

“There is no question,” Patton said sternly. “You are Virgil and you are anything but crazy.”

“Thanks, Pat.”

“Greetings,” called Roman, himself and Logan reappearing in the mindscape. “We have returned triumphant with a decision for this week’s video!”

“Baring your approval, of course,” corrected Logan as he walked over to Patton and Virgil on the stairs.

Roman waved a hand as he bounced over and sat at Patton’s feet, “Of course, of course.”

“I am sure whatever you have decided is great,” Patton smiled.

Virgil asked, “What are you thinking?”

“Disney Villain musical mash-up,” Roman answered, leaning into his friends.

Logan rested an arm on the banister, “We figured a musical video was due. Plus, it will include many friends which always helps Thomas feel better.”

“Unless it reminds him of who can’t be there,” muttered Virgil.

“Let’s stay optimistic on that,” Patton encouraged, patting Virgil’s knee.

Virgil nodded, knowing Morality was right.

Patton yawned, “It’s late.”

Logan looked at his watch, “Actually, it is not that late in the evening. That being said, I too am feeling worn-out and could be convinced that an early bed time is in order. I did read that this medication can make Thomas tired while he gets used to it.”

Virgil let out a yawn in response.

“Alright then,” Roman said as he stood up, “It sounds as if it is time for you three to get to bed with Thomas. I, however, have some pent up creative energy coming off of that video idea session. But I am sure that I will be able to keep myself busy with creating dreams for a bit.”

“Just remember that Thomas will remember them,” said Virgil. “So if you make anything ridiculous, he’ll know.”

Roman flashed a devilish grin, “Exactly.”

“Alright then, bed time.”

Virgil entered his room and closed the door. He took a deep breath before he turned around to look at the room. The shadows welcomed him, their smiles genuine even if their motives were questionable. Virgil was used to them, although he knew they weirded the others out. The shadows liked Virgil, perhaps because his dark persona helped to feed their need for the absence of light. Patton, Roman, and Logan all gave off a certain light that came with their acceptance and long standing place with Thomas. The shadows fled from their light, only approaching the others if they were in the room too long and their light had diminished. They used to stay closer to Virgil, but since Thomas and the others had accepted him, the shadows were never quite as close.

They weren’t his friends or his foes. They did seem to listen to Anxiety on the rare occasion he decided to say address them. Virgil simply had accepted the shadows in the room and let them be, much to the displeasure of the others. But he had pointed out that if they didn’t stay with him in his room, they would have to find another place. And at least they would listen to him if they were in his room.

Virgil sighed and rolled his eyes. Might as well try and get some sleep. It had been so long since he had had a decent night’s sleep. Recently he had been so busy interrupting Roman’s work on dreams that Roman would give up and just let Virgil control the dreams. The thing was that it meant Virgil got no sleep at all on those nights. Roman could survive on very little sleep, it was just part of who he was as a Side. It had something to do with the fact that dreams were literally his playground.

Virgil crossed the room to the dresser and pulled out his favorite pjs, purple flannel pants and an old black t-shirt. He changed his clothes, embracing the coolness of the unworn clothes. Virge tossed the dirty clothes in the laundry basket and walked over to the bed. He sat down on the edge of the bed in a huff and fell back so that his feet were still on the ground but he was laying down. He watched the shadows on the walls, noting how they floated, further away from him than usual.

The device started to vibrate just as Virgil felt the hair on the back of his arms rise. His heart rate quickened as he sat upright, his eyes scanning the room. The shadows were back further from him, pulling towards an exceedingly dark corner of the room by the door.

Virgil gulped and looked down at the watch’s screen, which was now lit up.

THREAT LEVEL 1: GET BACKUP

Virgil immediately jumped up and froze. There was only one reason the shadows would leave him and flock to another corner. He had to be the lightest being there at the moment. Someone darker must be in the corner and only one person came to mind.

“Oh, hello Virgil,” a voice called from the dark corner. Yellow eyes, one snake like, appeared as a gloved hand reached for the door’s lock. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

Next Chapter

Tag List: @today-only-happens-once @niatsu-fullbuster @rileyfirstname @pineapplebutterscotch @thepoolofthedead @larkiaquail @jade-dragon226-fan @modcarbz @kiwisandsprinkles @anime-geek-girl32 @marion-fnaf-fan @dennithekit @icantbeme71097

#a virgil affliction #sanders sides fanfiction #virgil sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #thomas sanders #deceit sanders #medication #anxiety

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bronzeflower · 7 years

Text

Second Chance

Chapter 5: And Again

Also on ao3

Izuku had hoped that he would run into All Might again in the future, and he knew that he would, but he did not expect to meet him again this soon.

It was actually kind of jarring, seeing him again. It was a surprise to see him once, and it really shouldn’t haven’t been as much of a surprise as it was, knowing that All Might now lived in the same area as Izuku, but it still startled him to suddenly see the gaunt form of the man in the grocery store.

He wondered if it would be strange to greet All Might. Afterall, they have technically only met once, and there’s a possibility that All Might wouldn’t remember him.

Still, Izuku could probably greet him without it seeming too odd. At least it wouldn’t be as embarrassing as hugging All Might and sobbing into his chest because the last time Izuku saw him was in a casket.

He just had to make a mental note not to slip up and call All Might ‘All Might’ like how he called Eraserhead ‘Aizawa-sensei.’

“Oh, Yagi-san!” Okay, he could work with that. Just play it casual but respectful.

“Young Midoriya! Hello!” Toshinori greeted. “I didn’t expect to see you here, but I suppose everyone has to shop for groceries.”

“Izuku, who's this?” Inko asked, and Izuku realized once again that All Might’s true form doesn't exactly make him look like the most trustworthy of people.

“This is Toshinori Yagi.” Izuku answered. “He’s the person in charge of All Might’s personal life.”

“Oh! I see.” Inko said, and Izuku was honestly relieved that his mother knew about his past life. She clearly made the connection that Yagi was someone Izuku had known in his past life. “I'm Midoriya Inko. It's very nice to meet you, Yagi-san.”

“It's very nice to meet you as well, Midoriya-san. And just Yagi is fine.”

“Well, if that's the case, I'll have to insist that you simply call me Midoriya.”

“Lovely weather we’re having today, isn’t it?” Toshinori asked, and Izuku was struck by how painful it was to suddenly listen to awkward small talk.

“It is quite nice. It’s certainly better than it would be if it were raining, especially since Izuku here goes outside to train regardless of the weather. I worry that he’s going to catch a cold or that he’s going to burn himself out. He just works so hard.” Inko said, and Izuku felt a bit of embarrassment at the way Inko was talking about him. Although he supposed it was just because of the mother in her, it was still embarrassing to be in the presence of anyone who was listening to his mother talk about him.

“That’s good for if he wants to be a hero.” Toshinori said. “Afterall, the life of a hero is hard work, and those who wish to become heroes must be willing to go above and beyond in order to achieve their goal. Plus Ultra!”

Izuku couldn’t help but imagine All Might going into his hero form when he said Plus Ultra, but Toshinori stayed Toshinori, as skinny and skeleton-like as always, contrasting with his buff hero form.

“I suppose that is true. I’m glad he’s trying so hard to achieve his goals, and I do try my best to support him, but a mother can’t help but worry, you know?” Inko linked her fingers together in a nervous gesture that Izuku was extremely familiar with.

“I completely understand.” Toshinori nodded. “It’s nice to see a mother who’s both worried for her son and still supporting him the best she can.”

Izuku didn’t really want to listen to the conversation Inko and Toshinori were having, so he busied himself by taking the shopping list and finding the items they needed from the store. It was a fairly short list, and Izuku found himself right back in the same place he was, listening to the conversation Inko and Toshinori decided to have.

“So, Midoriya, where do you work?” Toshinori asked.

“I actually work at home. Sometimes I do odd jobs here and there, but I generally write for a living.”

“Do you enjoy doing that?”

“I do, actually. Sometimes there’s nothing better than being able to sit down and write. There’s something calming about it. Even if the things I’m writing aren’t exactly something I want to write, like a manual for a kitchen appliance.” Inko explained. “But someone has to sit down and write those manuals.”

“That’s very admirable!” Toshinori praised. “I suppose I’d never thought about the people who write those manuals, but it must take a lot of work to make something so informative!”

“Oh, well, you know. It’s my job.” Inko blushed furiously.

“It’s a very important job! I feel like it’s highly underappreciated. It’s always the underappreciated jobs that are the most important.” Toshinori suddenly looked a bit wide-eyed. “Oh! I must go. I apologize for leaving so suddenly, but I promise that it was lovely talking to you. Ah! Why don’t I give you my number?”

Toshinori frantically searched around for a pen or for paper and looked dejected when he couldn’t find either.

“Here, just put your number in my phone.” Inko pulled out her phone, unlocked it and handed the phone to Toshinori. Toshinori put his number in her phone and returned it.

“Thank you. It was lovely meeting you, but I really must go.”

“It was lovely meeting you as well. I’ll be sure to call or message you.” Inko promised.

“I look forward to it.” Toshinori said before leaving.

“What a nice man.” Inko whispered.

“Well, I’m glad you like Yagi-san.” Izuku said, and Inko suddenly stood at attention.

“Oh! Izuku! I’m sorry if you were kind of bored during Yagi and I’s conversation.” Inko blushed in embarrassment.

“It’s fine. I’m just glad you’re making friends.” Izuku said. And he really was glad that Inko got along with Toshinori, especially since they were both parental figures in his past life and hopefully current life as well.

And also Inko didn’t really spend much time outside of the house, and Izuku was worried that she was getting lonely being all by herself all the time. The only other friend she really had was Bakugou’s parents, but, in the times when they were busy, Inko was still alone save for Izuku.

And sometimes, not even Izuku, particularly since he was training to become a hero, and he would do that by going outside the house and doing exercises, a habit which had the side-effect of leaving his mother at home by herself.

Izuku honestly kind of felt bad about it. But, at the same time, he couldn’t just stay inside all day if he wanted to become a hero in this life. He had to work hard, and, sometimes, that required sacrifices.

So, Izuku did want his mother to make friends within her age group. It would be good for her, and Izuku hoped that this meeting with Toshinori would have a positive effect on her.

However, Izuku did not expect to one day be told that Inko had invited Toshinori over for dinner.

So, there he was, doing something he never in his life or his past life expected to be doing: sitting at the dinner table with All Might.

“So, Izuku, how was school today?” Inko asked, like she always did at the dinner table.

“It was okay,” Izuku answered. “We went over commas in English today, but they’re kind of a difficult concept to understand.”

It was kind of ridiculous to have trouble with something like English after Izuku had already basically been through all these same classes, but his written English wasn’t exactly up to par with his speaking English.

“I could help you with that if you wish.” Toshinori offered. “I’m actually able to speak and write English fluently, so I would be happy to assist.”

The oddness of the entire situation suddenly struck Izuku. There he was, being offered help on his homework by All Might of all people while he was currently sitting and eating dinner with him. It felt oddly familial, but it wasn’t nearly as weird as Izuku thought it should feel.

Instead, he felt an odd warm. He was happy that All Might was sitting at Inko and his table to eat dinner with them while offering to help Izuku with his homework. It almost felt like All Might was actually his father.

Of course, Izuku had always thought of All Might as a sort of father figure, but the idea was now even further cemented in his mind.

“I’d really appreciate that, thank you.” Izuku grinned, and he was glad his life was turning out even better than before.

#midoriya izuku #inko midoriya #toshinori yagi #toshinko #bnha #my hero academia #second chance #dadmight #dad might

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justcoffeenotea · 7 years

Text

An Uninvited Guest (pt 2)

{Contents of the RP with @sinilakki }

Wan downright dived into the mirror frame which they had reached just in time, against all odds. The fall was a short one. A blast of cold, a flash of silver light, and they tumbled to a floor head first. That hurted. But they were out of Parabola, away from that most unagreeable Fingerking. Wan wrestled their once-neat-and-nice coat off and dashed up. The pain from their bad ankle almost made them black out and they swore and cursed in the language they didn’t know a name for anymore.

Nonetheless they succeeded in covering the mirror with the coat before they stumbled back to the floor. “Not today, snakey, not today!” Wan yelled at the mirror even if the dream-serpent likely couldn't hear them. The most acute matter thus settled they looked around them. A bedroom. Could be much worse, even if people generally didn’t place mirrors in the most hazardous of places. And they hadn’t any idea whose bedroom they had leaped in, but hey again the situation could be much worse. Probably. They took a deep breath and leaned on the wall.

The mirror was attached to a vanity and surrounding that was an astonishing number of masks of various sorts. Each of them hand crafted, and the bedsheet by which Wan had covered the mirror with had sent a number of objects on the vanity clattering to the floor. Not that it seemed to matter too much: whoever's room this was, they were clearly some sort of artist and chaos had made it's nest in the room as surely as any living person.

Hearing shouting from the other side of the door, Grey frowned and gripped the cane a little tighter. Surely they weren't going to come off nearly as imposing as they wanted to wearing a house robe but it would have to do. Gripping the handle, Grey mouthed 'one, two, three' before throwing open the door and raising the bejeweled cane. "ALL RIGHT! HOLD IT!! Whatever you're planning to steal isn't worth the beating coming to you, you thief!"

Startled, without thinking Wan tried to get up but their ankle thoroughly disagreed with that plan. Giving out a yelp fell back and had to try and explain themself to the cane-wielding presumed owner of the bedroom. “Please sir-- er, madam--, citizen, I’m not a thief! Honest!” They gestured desperately around after words seemingly refused to cooperate. Why etiquette manuals and letter writing guides never had any decent apologies for situations like these? But they couldn't think anything sufficiently eloquent to save them from getting the said beating. But the prospect of the owner not settling for that and calling the police was even more grim. They couldn't go to New Newgate yet again, nonoNono. This was unfair, they hadn't even been casing this particular house before. “Please, I was merely being chased by a Parabola serpent and had escape through the closest frame!” Well, that sounded potentially completely nonsensical.

The cane was still raised like a baseball bat ready to club someone but despite this Grey wasn't much more than a few steps into their room. This person wasn't making a lot of sense and their brow furrowed behind the plain black mask they wore. Confusion and incredulity mixed in equal measure as they tried to parse out what this person meant by Parabola and snakes.

"There aren't any serpents in my home, I'll have you know! That is the poorest excuse for a lie I've heard in my entire time here in the Neath!" They took another step forward, not really so sure they wanted to clobber someone on their knees but they'd at least managed to frighten the intruder-- that was important!

The white and gray spotted rat that was at their feet skittered closer to Wan, it's hackles raised but it's teeth no longer bared. "Surfacer don't know what they're on about but you showin' up ain't somethin' to be sneezed at neither." The rat's accent had an F in place of any TH sound he made and was a fair shot different than his American counterpart. At least he sounded like a Londoner. "Go on, how'd you get here? Spill! Afore I give you a good nippin'."

Wan tried to meet the masked house-owner’s eyes, since it was what trustworthy and honorable people do. They just were bad at keeping their own storm-grey gaze in others’ eye for the eye contacts always ended up reminding them of the Thunder and they got distracted… So they were more than happy to look down to the rattus occasionally. And the little rattie sounded like a regular Londoner rattus but his human companion had an accent they quite couldn't place which might be a good thing since they might not be that snooty about convoluted language.

“How? Well… through the mirror.” Wan waved their hand vaguely towards the vanity, looking both the masked mystery person and their rat companion in turn. “That’s what I do. Partly. I’m a Glassman. I travel through mirrors to Parabola. And back. Certainly you have… Um, it might sound implausible but it’s true! And and… I apologise for this cross intrusion of a stranger upon you home aaand… I hope you may excuse it?

With this person on the ground hardly seeming like a proper threat now, Grey lowered their cane slowly. "You keep saying Parabola but I don't know what the devil you're on about." Grey stated rather bluntly, resting their weight on the cane as it was intended for. "And I've never heard of a Glassman either! Now if you care to explain, perhaps we can continue this outside my bed chambers, hmm? Maybe then I'll decide if I'll call the constables or not." The tone was terse but Grey hadn't yet realized Wan had hurt their ankle and getting downstairs was hardly going to happen without assistance.

“Ah, my good… fellow, the things is that I would have removed myself from here immediately but I simply can’t.” Wan tried to rotate their ankle and grimaced. The good thing was that their sturdy kingscale boot --which didn’t truly match the rest of their suit-- supported the injured foot when they didn’t try to move it around. “‘Cause I busted my leg,” they added meekly and seemingly very embarrassed. “Surely we can reach some kind of understanding, no need to involve the poor overworked gentlemen in blue.”

A brow raised behind the mask and Grey sighed softly, stepping closer to Wan and tucked the cane gracefully under their arm. "Come on then, up you get." Reaching down, Grey offered their free hand to Wan in order to help them up.

Zucker, still uncertain of this strange guest, hopped up onto Wan's shoulder before they could stand up assisted or not. If the Glassman were to try anything to bring harm to his friend, Zucker knew very well how to use those ratty teeth of his.

Wan took the offered hand without hesitation and pulled themself up with Grey’s help. The Glassman appeared to be quite cheerful for someone who had just burgled a house allegedly by accident and might yet face the consequences, but they couldn't help it as they glanced the serious little rattie on their shoulder. Wan always tried to be respectful and not to coo or baby talk at the sentient animals of the Neath but d__n they were so adorable. “Oh, where’s my hat…?” Wan threw a hasty glance around the room trying to locate their bowler hat.

While Wan seemed to be in a good enough mood, Grey wasn't smiling in the slightest. They wanted to get to the bottom of this, dammit, and how someone broke into their house 'through a mirror' of all the nonsensical things! "Probably where you left it running from serpents." Grey said humorlessly, taking a grip on Wan's arm to help them along out of the bedroom and towards the door.

As far as rats went, Zucker was hardly a precious little furball. He was tatty as his jacket was, ripped ear, badly healed tail-- this rat had been something of a scrapper once. Still was. And still was perched ready to bite something tender if Wan pulled a fast one.

"Now then," Grey said as they hauled Wan downstairs to their parlor. "I expect you would be so kind as to give me your name? Your real name, if you please." If this little delinquent tried something funny by calling themself John Thomas or other to escape Grey would be getting the constables post haste.

“I go by the name of Wan Bowler, delighted to make your acquaintance. Oh, and I’m addressed as “citizen” in case you were wondering. But you can call me Wan, W-A-N. That’s as real a name as I have got,” they beamed like a sun, actually genuinely delighted.

The tiny uninvited visitor had a rather flat accent where they tended to always put the stress on the first syllable and meticulously pronounced every letter of words, which suggested they weren't a native English speaker.

Grey's not smiling face became a little more pronounced the more Wan went on. Maybe it was nerves that had them so talkative but Grey wasn't pleased by any means. Leading Wan to their sofa, Grey sat Wan down and took a seat in the arm chair opposite them and steepled their fingers. "You might very well be addressed as 'prisoner' if I'm not satisfied with your reasoning as to why you popped into my house. Now, from the beginning, explain how you got here."

Zucker hopped off Wan's shoulder to the arm of the sofa still peering at Wan. At least it didn't look like the rat was going to attack anyone at the moment which was good and both the rat and human seemed to slowly be calming down after the incident.

Grey’s stern words inspired some humility in Wan whose smile somewhat dimmed as they nodded and sat down placing their gloved hands on their lap, trying to appear both unthreatening and respectable. “Oh… Well, it seems like the beginning here entails explaining what Parabola is? Since you seem to be new down here.” Wan glanced at their captor.

You see, it’s a… place, a land on the other side of mirrors. And it’s amaaazing! There’s forests and rivers and an actual sun in the sky! More orange than the Surface sun but a sun nonetheless. You know Prisoner’s Honey, right? I’m of course not implying you using such --what was the word?-- ah, substances but you know how it transports people away into the realm of sweet dreams? For real? That realm is Parabola, actually!” As Wan got more excited, more they began to emphasise their words with their hands.

As Wan explained, Grey's brow furrowed more and more in confusion rather than aggitation. "It's a dream, it hardly transports one away anywhere." Grey stated as a matter of fact rather than speculation. That didn't make sense! "There can't be a whole other world, that's... preposterous!"

From the sofa's arm rest, Zucker sighed softly. "Surfacers..." The rat muttered before looking to Grey. "Parabola's real's I am, mate. Don't know a damn thing about it other than the cats fancy it and that's more'n enough reason for me to steer clear. And you do disappear in those honey dreams of yours..."

"I.... what?"

Grateful for having someone to back their words up, Wan nodded eagerly first towards Zucker and then towards Grey, smiling full of sympathy. “Yes, the cats can roam freely between Parabola and London. But! They aren't cats in there, not exactly. Cats will become big cats, like lions and tigers! And I once met a gentleman who I think would be a leopard over here. And you should see my friend Adamás in Parabola, gosh! She’s a tigress. Here I mean.” Wan wanted to veer the conversation away from their host’s honey habits, especially after the comment that could be understood being quite disapproving.

But in addition of cats there’s these… snake people. Cats doesn't like them, at all. And they certainly can be trouble.” Wan sighed, suddenly melancholy. “I don’t want to believe they are all bad but one should be careful with them. They sometimes possess people. Or bite. The powerful snakes that have the most... business with people are called the Fingerkings. But I have met a perfectly polite snake who just noted that they were not a branch!”

"Wait wait wait! Hold on!" Grey sat up a little straighter and gestured with their hands for Wan to stop. "Then explain to me, perfectly clearly, why the last time I was in a honey dream there was an extravagant mansion complete with a ballroom, where as before I've seen firework displays over Paris, expeditions in jungles, and even museums fit for royalty! If it real why doesn't it make a lick of sense?"

Zucker gave a helpless shrug. Grey kept no cats but a small platoon of rodents and none of which had been to Parabola. Some had been rather far out to Zee but none visited the other side of the mirror.

“It must because Parabola is made at least partly of people’s memories, mismatched in this dreamlike wonderland. So it is possible to encounter all manner of things that are familiar but… off. Not really making sense. I have found temples, perfect cucumber sandwiches, a river made of silver snakes, an underwater forest and-- A-a castle? Made of briar roses or-- I can’t remember that well. As I said, I am a Glassman.” With a smooth move of the hand Wan produced a pair of mesmerisingly amber-orange glasses from their vest pocket and put them on. Their Cosmogone Spectacles that still were miraculously intact despite the nosedive the floor.

“I travel to Parabola and back. Through mirrors, there’s frames in Parabola scattered in some places. I assure you I usually use my own mirrors, in my own lodgings. But I was chased by this very discourteous Fingerking and desperate measures were required. I mean I exited through the first frame I found. Ending up here which I apologise.”

When Wan went to grab something in their coat, Grey gripped their cane again just in case. Who knew what they could be pulling out of there! It wasn't like Grey to be on such a hair trigger but neither were they used to having house guests tumble out of their vanity.

When it turned out to be a pair of glasses Grey sighed and slumped wearily back into their seat. "That doesn't make any sense..." Grey said helplessly, lifting a hand to their head. "And you tell me Fingerkings are... snake people? Is that something I'm really supposed to believe? Talking animals I'll grant you but people are people..." As much as they didn't want to admit it, Grey was thinking back to things they'd seen in the Neath, in the Labyrinth of tigers. Things that seemed like people but were not and where mirrors were banned. The Tiger Warden did say humans found the place particularly unsettling for a reason... so were those Fingerkings?

“Well, people can enter Parabola but I think the Fingerkings can’t leave unless they… acquire a human as a-- vessel? If that’s a right word. So… you know the Labyrinth of Tigers, right?” Wan’s eyes shifted from Grey’s to the floor and they grimaced like there was unpleasant memories associated to that location.

“Cats and snakes don’t get along here either so mirror-carrying people whose bodies Fingerkings are borrowing tend to end up in cages. As exhibits in the third coil. I might add that tigers can be prideful and hard to assure that mistakes were made,” they lifted their gaze from their toes and looked Grey again in the eye.

For whatever was going on, for Wan to talk about that just so soon after thinking of it, Grey glared at them. Something funny was going on and they didn't like it whatsoever.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Grey lied, keeping their tone flat with disapproval. "That doesn't explain how you presume to pass through a solid object to enter some-some dream place. Parabola or some such. If you can pass through a mirror, prove it."

“But of course! I can't explain it but I can show, in that sense it's like riding a velocipede. ” Wan’s face lit up once again. “Do you have another suitably large mirror around here? For I’m afraid your vanity is best avoided. Unless you are partial to snakes. Not that there’s anything wrong with that either! There might be a Fingerking waiting just on the other side… Might we discuss the possibility of me purchasing that particular looking-glass? Frankly, to smash it into pieces so nothing will pass through. Ever.” Wan leaned closer to Grey speaking in hushed tone like something might be hear them all the way from the bedroom.

Try as they might, Grey couldn't shake the uncomfortable feeling of something lurking on the other side of the mirror after that. Sighing deeply, Grey nodded. "If means fewer people crashing into my bedchambers, fine. Mirrors are expensive though... A hundred echoes should cover the cost of a new one I imagine. The only other I have of size is in my bathroom..."

“Many thanks, I’m sure that’s the best decision! Would these be sufficient as layaway?” Wan handed over several shiny stones of multiple colours to Grey after rummaging through their pockets again. Their garments apparently had way more unnoticable pockets than was usual. “Am I allowed to enter such a private part of your lodgings or…?”

{To be continued}

#An uninvited guest #RP post #Wan #sinilakki

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this-is-getting-silly · 8 years

Text

If anyone is interested in reading some of my shitty ‘writing,’ here you are.

Part Four.

"Mister Winters, I have a proposition to make you."

The sentence shakes Conrad out of his reverie. His hands have been bound behind his back, his weapons taken, his mask removed. His cell is deep beneath a facility that doesn't legally exist, and the Director of the Bureau is standing in front of him, face neutral. In other words, he's exactly where he wants to be.

Like a multifaceted gem, turning so that the light catches it in a new, different way, Conrad's mind moves from his introspection to the social manipulator that was trained by his father to bend any person to his will.

Show weakness. His image of you is a misguided, brilliant young man who could be an asset to him. Play it up.

"What would you want with me?"

The emphasis on specific words, subtly stroking his ego, making him think that I think of him as some untouchable paragon of spycraft. Not to mention implying that I think less of myself specifically because of the mission's failure. Hardly.

"Mister Winters, your attempt at engaging in a game with me was ham-fisted and poorly planned, if I may be blunt."

Levels and levels, idiot. Don't think less of your opponent only because they're younger than you.

"However," the Director continues, "I believe you have potential in this line of work. Specifically, working for us."

Excellent. Seem surprised, flattered. Use profanity.

"Me? Why? I attacked you! And I fucked that up, too. How would I be of any use to you?"

The Director smiles. Slightly.

"Mister Winters, your plan would have gone off without a hitch had your team not proved to be incompetent. You would have taken what you came for and left with us none the wiser. Simply put, your talents are wasted with whatever organization you've signed on with. If your father's resources were enough to keep you afloat as an independent, you would not have aligned yourself with them, so you need resources. Let us make use of your services and we will provide them."

A tempting offer. But he makes a few too many assumptions. To him, it seems that I failed in my mission, when I, in reality, am just where i want to be. He assumes he's in control of the situation, when I contrived to have him offer me a job from the beginning. To simply take it would be to betray my purpose. Still, I must at least appear to want to join to further this part of the plan. Not to mention, having all of the Americans' fun toys to play with could be interesting.

"I... yes."

The Director's face betrays some surprise, and Conrad wonders for a moment if he agreed too quickly.

"Normally, Mister Winters, when I try to turn an enemy agent, it takes a little longer for them to acquiesce."

Show him that you're worth hiring. Sound smart.

"Frankly, Director, most people you'er trying to turn have some measure of loyalty to their previous employer. Not so, in this case."

"Ah, yes. Speaking of that employer, who were they?"

"The Tower, actually. And while we're on the subject... I have an idea as to my first assignment. "

Pause, indicating deference.

"Oh?"

"If I return to them within the next four days, they may well assume that I escaped, and if I manage to make that story seem believable, I can work as a double-agent. My employment with them was on a freelance basis, so I'll be able to leave and return without arousing suspicion, and take as much information from them as is offered to me. I understand if my trustworthiness is in doubt, as I may seem eager to return to the people you have just turned my against, but I will happily agree to any countermeasure that your wish to employ to ensure my loyalty."

Conrad paused fo a moment, hoping that he hadn't overdone it, but when the Director spoke, his tone seemed understanding.

"Normally, I'd like to test your capabilities, do some test, the like. But this is an irreplaceable opportunity. We can squeeze the most important procedures into two days, and prep you for undercover work on the third, if that's amenable."

Oh, absolutely.

"Yeah, but just one question?"

"Of course."

"Can I have an office?"

Part Two.

"Gentlemen, the plan is thus."

The trick here is to sell this properly. If they suspect that it's designed to fail. they'll insist on 'helping' me design it, and the whole plan will be finished.

The Tower is a sovereign nation. As the name indicates, it is a single tower, but it is indisputably the tallest in toe world, at 3,500 feet. It is also quite wide, about the width of the Pentagon, both to house it's rather large population, and to keep the massive structure stable. It rises out of the Indian Ocean, and is the only nation in the world run by a superhuman. It's original creator designed the structure with his power, but it is now run by another person entirely. Not that it's residents know that.

A superhuman who operates under the name of Revolution toppled the previous Tower's government, with the help of a man named Winters, and replaced the leader in secret. That, of course, was years ago. A week ago, Winters' son came to the Tower and requested the assistance of the Tower's leader. Today, the team that Winters put together has gathered to plan a heist. Or so they think. In reality, Conrad Winters is playing the angles. His plan is built so that the team he's working with will be tripped up by a security system that Conrad knows exists, but the team doesn't.

"Transfer will make his way into the security control room by ambushing a low-level employee outside the building whose schedule I've internalized. Once inside the security control room, he'll manually activate the security systems while an employee is checking in, giving the system a false positive."

Transfer. His consciousness has no body, and he can transfer it into hosts by touch. Once hosts are changed, the host has no memory of being possessed.

"Buckshot and I will enter while the majority of security is distracted by that, and take the package."

Buckshot. Has a very small range, but a powerful telekinetic blast that can rip through just about anything. Calls it 'shotgun telekinesis."

"Once that happens, Transfer will kill the power, and we leave under cover of darkness."

Of course, they don't know about the security systems detailed in Father's files. I told Revolution that Father's notes say that the only reason no-one'e ever pulled this off is because their plans are too complicated. This is obviously false. The real reason is that the Bureau has a telepath.

Part Six.

Equinox/Solstice... Olympian... Arboretum... no. I can look this over another day. This day is for experimenting.

Conrad Winters is in his lab, in his home. On the screen to his left are the US Governments collected files on the world's superhumans. On the right is the same collection of files, but taken from the Tower. The information may not be everything that they have, but it's a place to start. After all, why would they allow their newest recruit to have full access to their files?

Behind Conrad is a large amount of salvage.

Outside of the Winters Castle is a war zone. When Conrad's father was attacked, his enemies used an army of machines, and the elder Winters wiped them out. He was wounded in the attempt, and died, so the ground is littered with destroyed machines.

His son intends to use them.

The Interfacer is a device that Conrad's father had built before he died. It is designed to interface, as the name suggests, with machines. Even destroyed ones.

Closing the files on his screens with a sigh, Conrad opens his lab application, and selects the Interfacer. Behind him, he hears the machines move, and attach the device to the hulk of scrap. It's wires snake into the husk and search for undamaged circuits, replacing essential systems that no longer exist. In a moment, the machine is online. It's shell is immobile, wrecked, but it can function.

Mechanical arms move to saw parts of the armor open, leaving only useful parts. The lab has a good deal of spare machine parts, and Conrad selects a few to attach. In the end, he's cerated a gestalt of the original creation, which resembled a blocky humanoid with arms that fired cutting lasers, and a medieval knight. It's arms remain the same, and the head has been mostly repaired. The shoulders are spiked pads, and the body has been replaced wholesale. The legs are now treads, as well, but the paint job somehow makes it look like it was designed this way. When Conrad try to actually activate it, is immediately begins moving forward, swinging it's arms in an attempt to crush the young schemer's body. He spins, reaching for his weapon, and fires a burst of electromagnetic energy from it. The machine freezes. Damn. Forgot to change it's primary function. Ah well, the design was rather ugly. On to the next one.

Part One.

Winters' Journal, Entry Four.

I have a plan.

It's taken some time, looking through Father's notes, to find a suitable faction. But the Tower owes him, and if I call in that favor they won't be able to refuse. I'll tell them that I want to launch a raid on the Unite States, and they'll give me a team.

Of course, I don't intend to be successful. The plan will be just good enough to both convince the Tower's team, and impress the Director of the Bureau. And then fail. I'll be taken captive, which will assure the Tower that it wasn't a set-up intended for them, and convince the Bureau that I'm not as talented as I am.

They'll offer me a job, and I'll accept. I'll suggest I be sent undercover to the Tower, and they'll have no choice but to agree. Once I return to the Tower, I'll inform them that the Bureau thinks I work for them, and offer the Tower the opportunity to hire me as a double-agent. Effectively, I'll be an agent of both sides. They'll both eventually trust me, if I'm patient enough to play the long game, and I'll get both sides' shiny toys. The computer's estimated that the optimal timeline for this project is at least a year. Maybe more. At first, I was worried that it would mean putting off all my other projects, but that seems a silly worry. With the resources of either the Tower or Bureau at my fingertips, my other ideas will be far easier to do.

Now, this is all in pursuit of an end goal. If Father had come up with this plan, he would surely go with the obvious idea. Push both sides toward war by distributing information selectively so that a fight seems inevitable, and then betray both sides and end up in a position where you control both groups.

Of course, that isn't my goal. No, I intend to do something different.

I'll work my way into the confidences of the group's respective leaders. And we'll see if the Bureau and the Tower can't do some good in the world for once.

Part Five.

Conrad's helicopter touched down on one of the Tower's many landing pads. The man who comes to greet them is known to the world simply as Architect, but a select few people know that he is really Revolution, a man indebted to the Winters family in many ways.

"Conrad! You're alive! When the raid went wrong, we thought-"

"Yes, Architect, you thought I was dead. To be honest, so did I. However, this si not a discussion meant for the outside. Let us to your office."

That may have come off too strong. We'll see, I suppose.

"Yes, yes, of course."

When the two men reach Revolution's office, they both seem different people. A pretense is abandoned, and they address each other frankly. Or so Revolution thinks. He doesn't waste time with formalities, simply speaking.

"Conrad, there is no way that you escaped the Bureau's highest-security prison. Therefore, you either cut a deal, or I am working with incomplete information. The team I sent with you was not there for your capture, so it's possible you weren't captured at all. Explain."

Hm. He's perceptive. I suppose he would have to be, for someone who worked with Father.

"I cut a deal, yes. The Bureau offered me a job, and I took it. They now believe I am here working for them. As you have no doubt gathered, I am not. Instead, I wish to become a counter-agent relaying them only information that you wish for them to know, either misinformation or harmless secrets. In return, I will take what information they offer me and bring it to you." Hm. Definitely came on too strong. Hopefully it isn't a problem.

"A dangerous prospect, trying to fool the Bureau. Besides, how do we know you aren't trying to fool us?" Good. Now, bait the trap...

"Because you power doesn't work on me. You can see lies, and your power doesn't work on me. Don't you want to know if you can play the game without having a handicap?"

And close it.

Part Three. Transfer's body collapsed, his consciousness leaving it as he transferred into the Bureau employee. Buckshot grabbed Transfer's preferred host before they hit the ground, and carried them to the car. Conrad followed. They laid the unconscious man in the backseat and got into the driver's and passenger's seat respectively. All three, of course, were cloaked, but it never hurt to have that extra measure of secrecy.

Watching on a video feed, they saw Transfer enter the building, retinal and DNA sensors confirming their identity, and brush the hand of another employee, this one with a security badge. The first woman looked around confusedly before her mind filled in the gaps in her memory and she turned towards her office. The security guard, however, began to move towards the security control room. Before he could actually enter, he was stopped by another guard, presumably higher-ranking. As the latter guard began to speak, Transfer reached out and brushed his exposed forearm. The first guard turned to go, and the second one entered the control room. There was no camera inside, but Conrad heard the sound of a door locking, and a few very muffled thumps, which he took as an indication that Transfer had knocked out the two other guards inside.

Just then, in the sightline of the two men in the car, an employee approached the gate. They took this as a signal to exit the car again and move towards the back entrance. Once they heard the alarm, and the footsteps that marked that door's guard moving towards the disturbance, they entered.

However, the building's resident telepath had alerted the guards to their presence. When the doors opened, they found their cloaking tech disabled, and a power-armored guard, flanked by two mundanes, waiting for them. Buckshot spat an epithet and ran towards the power-armored one, using his power once he was in range, to rip through the outer layers of the armor. Conrad drew his gun, firing an energy pulse at the same one, but he seemed unfazed.

"We're made," Conrad spat into the comm system. "Go!"

Buckshot turned to flee obediently, and Conrad assumed that Transfer had done the same, likely transferring into one of the guards sent to capture him. He surreptitiously flicked a setting on his weapon and pulled the trigger again, but a sound was instead emitted that suggested he had expended it's charge. He threw it at the wall and braced himself for the strike that was to follow.

Once he had judged that the beating had been painful enough to justify his stopping resisting, Conrad went limp, and feigned unconsciousness.

They're reporting to their superior, likely. Getting orders on where to take me. Unless I'm very much mistaken, the Director is overriding their orders and having me brought to their high-security prison.

Just as planned.

#writing #the formatting is probably screwed up #meh

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amanby · 8 years

Photo

Don’t give up the day job

Not that I have one to give up, but it’s safe to say that no-one’s about to offer me a career in construction…

This is a strange little place, and probably quite an odd way to end my time in Africa. I’ve got no idea how Ferg spent three months here. But then I suppose he was looking for hard work, tranquility and, most of all, the great outdoors, and Mukolo Camp has all of these in abundance.

The camp is still under construction (which is why I’m here, of course), but opened its doors a few months ago anyway, with campsites, cabins, a modest swimming pool and offerings of boat tours, game drives and other activities. The problem: no-one’s coming. Clearly, no-one’s even heard of it yet. And this is making the owners, Afrikaners Hennie and Veronica, rather twitchy. They’ve given up their lives in Windhoek and put all their savings into this place, you see.

They’re milder and more softly spoken than most Afrikaners, and less overtly racist, even if they’re still pretty dismissive of the trustworthiness and quality of workmanship of the blacks. They’re nice enough, although remarkably uninterested in anything outside of their lives which, right now, consist entirely in this camp. I’ve been here nearly a week, and they haven’t shown any curiosity in me. They know I’m Fergus’ friend, and that’s all; they have no idea whether I have a job, siblings, parents, interests, my nationality, what I’m doing in Africa, nothing.

Meal times are a bit of a slog until I learn that Hennie used to train long distance runners and took two to the Barcelona Olympics, where good old Frankie Fredericks bagged Namibia’s first ever medal in their first ever Games, so we can now safely talk about that at length.

But I’m not here for the conversation. The deal is I work hard and in return they give me a bed, three square meals and the freedom to explore the surrounding area. I’m sort of treating it as a training course, an overdue attempt to learn all those things a man should know how to do.

Training is not going well.

I drive the pick up truck (“bakkie”) with trailer attached and four local workers armed with shovels aboard. They think I’m weird for several reasons: 1) I’m doing this work unpaid, 2) I help with the shovelling, which isn’t a white man’s job, and 3) despite MANY attempts, I can’t for the life of me reverse the bakkie with the trailer! It’s BLOODY HARD.

I cut a steel sheet with a grinder but apparently I press too hard so I wear through three saws. Oops. Hennie tells me to weld the sheet to the oven and I have a good long think about this but eventually decide that as I don’t even know where to start, I’d better confess that in welding he’s discovered my one manual labour weak spot.

I drill some holes and lay some decking. I’m a genius! Although I do take hours and break two drill bits so I suppose it’s not an entirely flawless performance.

I cut down bushes and dig out roots and scoop and carry cow manure in 25kg sacks. Immaculately. I’ve found my calling!

Hovering omnipresently is the memory of golden boy Fergus. Hennie: “are you good at carpentry, Alex? No? Oh right, Fergus was an excellent carpenter.” Veronica: “do you have artistic skills Alex? Why are you laughing? Ah I see, Fergus had a real skill for art.” And so on and so on. I nearly tell them Fergus was never captain of fives at school, ALRIGHT?!

I’m better at marketing than labouring, however, and at least I can add some value in trying to spread the Mukolo word. Hennie and Veronica seem to have ignored the fact that you need to make people aware of a place before they’ll come to it.

There are some lovely moments. I sip cold beers after work, listening to the wildlife chattering. I reflect on a hard day’s work while watching absurdly spectacular sunsets. I negotiate a deal with one of the workers for my sister’s hand in marriage (sorry Pip, but on the plus side now you know you’re worth 150 cattle. And Kisko will make an excellent husband). We go on a boat cruise and see two dozen hippos lounging around slothfully. I’m not sure I get the fuss about hippos though. They’re just big-mouthed fat pigs 95% submerged in water, no?

A word for Aboriginee Brita, a professional chef who, like Ferg, finds Mukolo Camp on Workaway. She turns up, cooks some delicious meals, complains about the quiet and remoteness, drinks 75cl of vodka on Day 1, the same again on Day 2, a whole litre of whisky on Day 3, breaks down in tears, sings Adele (badly) at the top of her voice through the night, and then gets up, packs her things and leaves the next morning without saying goodbye. Quite some performance.

The top picture shows me and the lads, doing the Namibia sign - the shape of the country! My favourite is Kisko, the guy in the hat (Pippa take note), and he’s immediately likeable and funny. The others take some persuading, which may be because they’re shy, or alternatively they’re wondering why the hell a white man who is quite so incompetent at reversing a trailer and handling power tools is now in charge; something I admittedly find myself wondering too.

So it’s been a funny old week. But I’ve actually really enjoyed myself. And now I have to head the 1,200km back to Windhoek to catch my flight out of Africa on Thursday, so this is my penultimate blog post. I’ll do a wrap before I leave; there will be tears.

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