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stargazing-dreamer-girl · 3 years

Text

Royalty

Fandom: The Irregulars

Pairing: Billy x female!OC, Leopold x Bea, unrequited Leopold x female!OC

WC: 17k (You can also find it on ao3 here)

Summary: Mary-Belle has always been like family to Leopold. The only one who stuck by his side and rather stayed inside with him than to go outside. That was, until he decided to leave the palace for an adventure and found new friends there, a new family. But, of course, Mary-Belle was still worrying about her friend, the one she had been in love with for years. She watched as he fell in love with Beatrice and still tried to keep him out of trouble, getting pulled into it herself by doing so. With the end of the world near she tries her best.

A/N: This has taken me so long to write and it's the longest one-shot I've ever written. I put a lot of work into this and I hope you guys like it as it is my little baby xD I also posted this on ao3 and linked it above since reading longer stuff on tumblr can be a pain. So, Enjoy!

Whenever she moved through the castle, Mary-Belle carried herself with grace. Her back straight, her head held high, so as to proclaim her status without uttering a single word. Nobody stopped her on her way to Prince Leopold’s room. Somebody knocked on the door for her when she came to a stop in front of it. It was opened right away for her to enter. She gave the servant a small nod in thanks. They knew not to enter after her, so as soon as she was in the room the door was closed behind her.

“You’re back,” she spoke the obvious. Leopold was standing in front of the mirror that looked just as expensive as anything else in the room. He met her gaze through the reflection. She had moved to the middle of the room, hands on her hips and eyes glued to him. He let out a sigh and gave up on arranging his clothes before turning around, feeling the whole weight of her disapproving stare. “You can’t keep disappearing on me. I don’t care if you run away from your family, but not me. You tell me where you go. I worry too, you know. We don’t keep secrets from each other.” She had stepped closer, her hands on his coat, adjusting it to sit right with harsh movements.

“I know, Mary. I’m sorry.” Her touches got softer adjusting his collar before she took a step back when he looked presentable. “But you don’t have to worry. They probably hate me for leaving again and there’s no way I can go back with the soiree taking place tonight.”

She went to sit on the sofa by the foot of his bed, patting the spot next to her, so that he would sit down as well. “Tell me what happened since the last time we saw each other.” So, he sat next to her and told her about the woman who had stolen people’s teeth and tried to assassinate the duke of Winchester and about the mansion they were trapped in and the tarot cards. “If you were anyone else, I would not believe these stories at all,” she laughed softly. Stories about magic certainly were quite unbelievable. On the other hand, the danger Leopold seemed to be putting himself in was very real and believable. “Is there anything else?” She knew that there was. Having known him since childhood she had learned how to read him like an open book. All his mannerism and quirks, she knew about.

“I kissed Bea.” She ignored the way her way heart seemed to constrict at the statement. The way he smiled and the gleam in his eyes let her know everything she needed. The girl, who she had hoped would just be of short interest to him, had made its way into his heart and taken it over. There was no way now for her to find her place there. So instead, she smiled and placed her hand on his arm reassuringly. “But right after, I left. I heard the bells and was about to be late for the weekly breakfast with my mother. I did miss it actually and now Daimler is onto me. He’s the one who talked to my mother, so that I would be allowed to go to Louise’ birthday soiree. All that so he can keep an eye on me.”

“You are helpless, Leo,” announced Mary-Belle. “You cannot kiss a girl and then just leave. Imagine how she must feel.” His gaze moved to the floor. His thoughts had been about how he would make it back in time and not how Bea would be feeling in this moment. He wanted to hit his head for his ignorance. “But there is nothing you can do about it now. Let’s just enjoy the soiree. You might actually like it.” She stood and walked towards the door, not waiting for Leopold. He would need another moment to gather his thoughts before he would attend, so she made her way down to the room by herself where everyone already appeared to be having a good time. There were couples dancing and people talking. A lively atmosphere filled the room. A servant offered her a glass. She lifted it off the tray, her gloved fingers gently holding on to it. The sweetly bitter taste filled her mouth when she took a sip. It took some getting used to before she actually enjoyed the drink.

Rather quickly she was able to find Louise between all these people and made her way over to the girl to wish her a happy birthday and talk to her. “Have you seen Leopold’s entrance? He is already rather popular,” noticed Louise, gesturing towards the dance floor where Leopold held a blonde girl close while they swayed to the music. Mary-Belle hadn’t even realized he was present. “Although he does appear to be a rather inept dancer. I thought the two of you had practiced.”

“Ever since we were little, yes,” confirmed Mary-Belle, “his thoughts are elsewhere tonight which seems to be translating into his dancing. He is quite competent at other times.” The two girls watched as Leopold once again stepped on his dancing partner’s feet, but fortunately the song came to a close and they moved off the dance floor. He apparently didn’t lose his appeal to the girl either since she led him over to a group of people and introduced him. “He seems to be doing well enough for himself,” she pointed out.

Louise agreed before her attention was taken up by another person. “Oh, I almost forgot, there was someone I wanted to introduce you to.” She grabbed Mary’s hand and pulled her along past the group Leopold was sitting with, coming to a stop in front of two men. They were quite handsome but didn’t seem to have much to offer other than that. They appeared to have grown up with the idea that having good looks made a personality unnecessary. She entertained them for a little while for Louise’ sake before she wandered off on her own.

She noticed Leopold leaving the room with the girl he had been dancing with. She considered following them but decided against it and let herself get distracted by her surroundings. Louise got ahold of her again, pulling her to another couple of girls whose behavior was already influenced by the alcohol. They were laughing loudly, holding each other up while they filled Louise and Mary-Belle in about Eleanor Margot, the girl Leopold had been spending his evening with. Like how she only cared for herself. A trait she shared with many people present tonight. It came with the upbringing.

But when Eleanor Margot returned, Leo wasn’t by her side anymore. An uneasy feeling filled Mary, so she excused herself and approached Eleanor. “Where is Leopold?”

“I don’t know,” she answered. “I left him upstairs somewhere.” She waved her hand dismissively, rolled her eyes and turned away from Mary-Belle who was equally as irritated by the short exchange. Making her way upstairs to look for Leopold she passed some people who had separated themselves from the happenings of the soiree and a passed-out girl. She checked one room that was being occupied by a couple that didn’t even realize someone had entered. She quickly left.

The next room was barely illuminated. She entered cautiously but there were no noises coming from the direction of the bed this time. But, through the thin curtains hung in front of the windows she could make out two figures out on the balcony. Curiosity took over. When she came to a halt in front of the window, she moved the curtain slightly, just enough to look through the opening, but hopefully not enough to be noticed. On the balcony, Leopold and Daimler were in the middle of what looked like a very intense conversation with Leo standing on the other side of the railing.

Before she fully realized what was happening Leo had jumped. A shocked gasp escaped her. She moved away from the window, the curtain slipping from her hand. Her shaking hands came up to cover her mouth. What had he done? She hurried to the door to the balcony. Daimler was already gone and when she looked down, Leopold was nowhere to be seen either. She hoped he was alright, that he hadn’t hurt himself and was on the way to his friends. She would have to go look for him herself to make sure of it, but for now she would return home. Too many thoughts filled her head, worries about Leo’s wellbeing.

She made straight for the doors, taking one of the awaiting carriages and drove home. As she looked out onto the streets of London her thoughts were on Leo who had to be out there somewhere. Once again, he had left her without a word. It had been just by coincidence she had seen it happen. She didn’t want to think that she would never be as important to him as Beatrice and his new friends were even though they had known each other almost all their lives and he had just met them. It hurt too much, so she pushed that thought away. She wouldn’t think that way. She would find Leo and he would have a reasonable explanation for it all. Or at least she hoped he did.

Her plans to look for Leopold had to be moved to the day after because after waking up the next morning her mother announced that Mary-Belle had to accompany her. It was a rather annoying thought to be stuck by her mother’s side all day when she could be out. She’d rather use the day to find Leopold than to attend boring meetings with other ladies who would just end up talking about themselves, their husbands or their children. But she complied. They went to a tea house first. If she weren’t as worried, she might have actually enjoyed it. The place was quaint with only a few tables for guests to sit down, the food looked delicious and the tea smelled even more so. The woman who served them the tea always had a friendly smile on her round face that put Mary-Belle at ease. She was quite certain that that woman would provide better company than her current one. But she couldn’t leave. It would put a bad reputation on her family. How ironic life could be. That she had more sense for keeping up her family name than Leopold did. And he was the Prince of England! If she were more like him, she’d just stand up, walk out and search the streets until she found her friend.

She stayed. She stayed and listened to the conversations that were always the same with a small smile on her face that was as fake as the friendship between her mother and the other women present. When appropriate she chuckled. When it was expected of her, she told an anecdote that didn’t happen the way she said but that didn’t matter. Not to these people. Not to her. She could come up with anything as long as it was a story that fit the picture her family painted of themselves in public and what was demanded of her.

The sun was already setting when they returned home. Going out now would be a lost cause. She wouldn’t find anything, even if she didn’t get lost. It had to wait until tomorrow. Maybe she could study a map. Her father had to have some of them. She would ask at the dinner table. Most of the time she got what she wanted, so she was hopeful. It might make it easier to find Leo. And, like she had expected, her father let her into his study after dinner, rolling out a map on the desk. He asked her what she needed it for, but she waved him off with the explanation that she was just curious about London’s infrastructure which – even in her ears – sounded like a weak excuse, but her father believed her. He left her alone with the words that she can stay there as long as she wanted. She just had to be careful and put everything away when she was done.

When the door closed, she allowed herself to relax a bit more. She wasn’t exactly sure how the map would help her now, but she had hope. Leopold did mention some stuff when he told her about his new friends, so she just had to look for some of those markers. It couldn’t be that hard to do. She could find the cellar somehow, she was certain.

The Duck and Quiver. That’s what she needed to look out for. It had to be around here somewhere. She had followed the roads the map had told her to take and she was sure she was in the right place. She had to be. She took a turn to get off Baker Street. It was already a lot different from the environment she was used to, but it was oddly nice. The way the people interacted here out in the streets felt a lot more genuine than she’d ever experienced with people of the royal court. A man was shouting at another, shoving him before they both broke into laughter. Two women sat off to the side watching some kids kick an old can around in the middle of the street as they talked with each other with genuine smiles on their faces.

She took another turn and, in the distance, saw the sign she was looking for; the Duck and Quiver, it read. A relieved sigh left her. She had been looking all morning and finally found it. She made her way over and even before she got there, she saw Leopold. He was up on his feet, so he wasn’t hurt too badly, she concluded. He actually looked happy standing there with the crowds of people passing him.

She grabbed his arm and pulled him further to the side before he knew what was happening. But, when he saw her there, he smiled at her. “You found me!” he announced happily.

“I did! But I only went searching because I saw you jumping off the frigging balcony! Do you know how dangerous that is!” She shoved his shoulder. “I was so worried! I mean, you jumped off a bloody balcony, for fuck’s sake! I thought you wouldn’t put yourself in danger like that. We had just talked about it and then you go and do that. I can’t believe you!” She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. Leopold tried the same by putting his hand on her arm but she shook it off. “Are you hurt?” she asked. For the first time she completely took in his appearance. His clothes were clean and the patches of skin she could see seemed unharmed.

“I’m fine. You don’t have to worry,” said Leopold.

“Well, I do worry because you’re my friend,” she explained, hitting him in the side this time. He hissed at the contact. His face scrunched up trying to fight the pain. “You have got to be kidding me! Leopold! You are not fine. How bad is it?”

“It’s fine, really.” She wanted to protest and look at the wound but Leopold didn’t let her speak or pull up his shirt to reveal his side. “I was hurt a little. There was no going around it, you know that. But I have been lying in bed since then to heal and it’s gotten a lot better. I can move, no problem.”

“That didn’t look like it was fine though,” she argued motioning towards his side.

“Well, yes, but you hit me! It’s fine if there is no one purposefully hitting me there. See,” He stood straight, opening his arms and jumping a little, “completely fine again.”

“Fine.” She gave in. There was no way she could convince Leo to rest anymore now. She has had to deal with his injuries before. He never stayed in bed for long. She looked around the place again, watching the people walking by, wondering if any of them were his new friends. “So, they forgave you?” She didn’t need to say which ‘they’ she was referring to for him to understand.

“They did.” He nodded. He noticed the distaste in her face, correctly assuming that it wasn’t aimed towards the people around, the place itself or his new friends. She was still mad at him for leaving. “Please, forgive me. I didn’t mean to leave like that. It was just all getting too much. That life,” He gestured towards the general direction of the castle, “it’s not what I want. I can’t keep living like that, if it means living a life of unhappiness. I wasn’t meant for that kind of life. All my life I was being locked away in the palace. It’s not what I want anymore. It wasn’t ever what I wanted, but I didn’t have a choice. I was born into that life, but now I found a way out. I found another life for myself with friends who like me for who I am and don’t just try to get close to me because of my family.”

“So, you think I’m not a real friend, that I don’t care about you and just want to spend time with you because – what, because you are the prince?” Leopold reached for her hand but was once again shaken off as she took a step back, tears collecting in her eyes out of both anger and sadness. “I was always there for you. Always. And not because of your status or your family but because of you, Leo.”

He tried again to reach out and pulled her back towards him before she could run off. “That is not what I mean. You are my friend, Mary. You are one of the few people in that place I actually care about and leaving you behind wasn’t easy. I never thought you were just there because of my status. Hell, you wouldn’t be here now if you didn’t care about me. You mean a lot to me, Mary, and me leaving that life has nothing to do with you.” He wiped the stray tear that had escaped off her cheek, his voice soft. “I told you everything about how I felt in that place, how trapped I felt. I often thought, you might even know me better than I do myself, but you can’t say stuff like that. It’s simply not true.”

“I know,” she admitted in a small voice. “I don’t know why I said that. I’m sorry. And I’m happy you got out, really, and that you made things right with your friends. I’ll be here for you no matter what. You can always count on me.” She looked up at him. They both calmed down and stepped a little farther apart. The close proximity felt too intimate all of a sudden.

“Well, uhm, do you, maybe, want to meet them?” He asked, unsure of what else to say, but she shook her head no.

“No, thanks. I… should probably go home before my parents notice and everyone thinks we ran away together.” She laughed, even if she didn’t quite feel like laughing having to leave Leopold again shortly after finding him, but it was true. She had to get back. “But I will come back tomorrow, if that’s alright.” At least now she knew where to find him.

“Yes, of course!” He nodded excitedly. But then his attention was caught by something behind Mary-Belle. She turned to follow his line of sight. There stood a girl with a round face that was framed by her long dark hair. She was beautiful. By the way Leopold looked at her, that had to Beatrice. Bea, for short. Mary-Belle wouldn’t call her Bea. She didn’t know a lot about her. Leo had told her that all of them were orphans. Beatrice had a sister, but Mary-Belle had forgotten her name. And of course, Beatrice was the one Leo was in love with. She was looking right back at the pair, confusion clear on her face. “Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow then,” said Mary-Belle and went in the direction of the Baker Street to find her way back from there.

“Mary-Belle!” Leopold called after her before she had gotten far. “And don’t tell anyone where I am!”

“Of course not,” she reassured him. “Just… be safe.” He promised her to be, but given what they had already experienced, he would probably not be able to keep that promise. He would try though. Or at least not tell her if he weren’t. They exchanged a last smile before they each turned towards where their life was taking place.

All the while they had been watched by Billy and Spike who had been sitting in the perfect position to see when Mary-Belle had pulled Leo to the side, catching Spike’s attention. “Hey, who’s that girl with Leo?” he asked his friend pointing towards the two of them who seemed to be arguing. Spike flinched when Leo was hit in the side, imagining the pain that must have caused him.

“I don’t know,” said Billy, taking in the situation with suspicion. “Looks like another rich girl who wouldn’t look our way twice. Just another one thinking they’re so much better than us. Just look at her.” The distaste on her face supported his argument. “Maybe he used to have something going on with her.” He shrugged. The situation interested him. Her presence alone and the way the both of them seemed to be close spoke against everything Leo had told them. When Leo cradled her face, Billy was convinced that what he had said was the truth. The way that girl looked at Leo held a lot of emotions.

“But what about Bea?” asked Spike. “I thought Leo liked her?”

“Maybe Leopold is a wanker, like I’ve been telling you guys. He doesn’t deserve Bea. Especially not like that.” He looked on, like Spike did, until they went their separate ways. “I’ll be right back,” he let Spike know before walking after her.

When Mary-Belle stepped out onto Baker Street the scenery changed immediately. Men were walking by in expensive suits and the road wasn’t as dirty. She let out a yelp when she was pulled back. A blond boy was towering over her intimidatingly, staring her down. With every step he took, she moved back, away from Baker Street and the people who might intervene in this situation. “Who are you and how do you know Leo?” he basically barked at her. Mary-Belle felt more at ease at his statement, not backing away anymore. Her searching eyes stopped to look at his face. This guy knew Leo. Not a lot of people did, so he had to be one of his friends. She hoped he was. Her change in composure didn’t go unnoticed by him which aggravated him even more. His chest heaving heavily, his fists clenched by his sides.

“I’m Mary-Belle, Leopold’s… acquaintance,” she said studying the face in front of her. His blue eyes stared right back at her. His dark-blond locks were cut short. She crossed her arms over her chest. “And you are?”

He ignored her question. “That back there didn’t look it was between acquaintances,” he argued. Mary-Belle’s eyes left his face shortly to look back to the direction she’s had her conversation with Leopold.

“I fear, that’s not any of your business. Why should I tell you anything anyway? You won’t even tell me your name.” She smirked. His face turned red, his muscles flexing. He looked a lot more intimidating like this. Maybe that was a mistake, maybe she shouldn’t have provoked him.

“What are you doing, Billy?” called Leopold’s voice. Mary-Belle let out a sigh of relief when ‘Billy’ backed away from her. She looked to where his voice came from. He was making his way over quickly, followed by Beatrice and two others. A pale girl with long dark hair that was pulled back into a braid, who she assumed must be Beatrice’ sister, and a boy with brown skin who focused on getting between Billy and Mary-Belle and talking the former down.

All eyes were on Leo and Mary-Belle when he came up to her, asking if she was alright and if Billy had hurt her. “Yes, I’m fine. I was just surprised. Not hurt or anything.”

“Who is that, Leo?”, asked Beatrice, her arms folded in front of her chest and an eyebrow raised. The other three were standing behind her as if to back her up, metaphorically and literally. Billy had seemed to calm down, but his eyes never left Mary-Belle even when Beatrice addressed Leo.

“I’m Mary-Belle.” She answered in his stead. “And I can speak for myself, thank you.” She smiled sweetly at them. “I’m a childhood friend of Leo’s.” This answer had to satisfy her because she couldn’t think of much else that wouldn’t reveal Leo’s identity this quickly but she was already thinking about a believable story. She’d stick to the truth as far as she could. It would make it easier.

“And what are you doing here, Mary-Belle?”

“Well, Beatrice,” if it affected Beatrice in any way that Mary-Belle knew her name, she didn’t show it, “I knew that Leo had run away from his home situation, so I was worried. But now that I know where he is and that he’s fine, I’ll be leaving. Which, by the way, had been my plan all along, hadn’t your friend here stopped me.” She eyed Billy up and down once more who was still looking back at her. “Well, it was nice to meet you, but I’m gonna take my leave now.” Instead of going around the group to get to the street she moved straight forwards. Beatrice moved out of her way, but Billy remained where he was. She ignored it, shoving him lightly with her shoulder as she moved past him. This time they let her go, but the questioning wasn’t over. Now they focused on Leo.

“I thought you said you didn’t have any friends,” said Jessie. Her tone was not accusing in any way, just curious, different from all the looks he got from the others.

“I did say that. I lied,” he admitted. “I’m sorry. She’s the only friend I have. This is the truth, I swear. She’s the only one at home who ever really cared for me. She cares enough to know that I couldn’t stay there, that I had to get away from that life she’s a part of. That’s also why she came, to check up on me, to see if I was alright. I swear to you guys, that’s the truth. I didn’t tell you because…” He stopped for a second. Why hadn’t he told them about Mary-Belle? “If you had known that there was this person at home that cared about me like she does, you wouldn’t have let me in, we wouldn’t be the way we are now.” And he had wanted to keep her a secret. She had stuck by his side all their life. He never understood why she had decided to stay inside with him when there was so much to see outside of the palace. She did go outside, partly due to his request, but she’d always come back and tell him about what she’d seen. Even if it felt wrong, she belonged to a different part of his life. A life that didn’t fit into this group.

The others were still unconvinced, but let it go for now. He had broken their trust, but his reasoning was understandable, so they would forgive him soon. But now they had things to do. They huddled together revising the plan they had made the night before on how to efficiently shadow Watson before they started the operation.

The next day, Mary-Belle followed the same way she had taken before. Now that she knew where to find Leopold, she didn’t have to stop and overthink whether she should have taken that turn back there or the one up ahead, whether she walked in the right direction or should turn around. The streets were just as crowded as before but a familiar sight made her stop in her tracks.

Men of the castle, dressed in their uniform, were roaming the streets. As she took a closer look, she recognized one of them as Daimler who had been responsible for Leopold for as long as she could remember. They talked shortly with each other, three in total. Then they parted ways. But none of them walked back towards the castle. Rather they seemed to stroll down the streets, their gazes moving over the people. It took her a second to understand what was happening, but when she did, Mary-Belle hurried, taking a different way to get around them and to Leopold before Daimler did.

She kept looking behind her to reassure herself she had lost them or that she at least was in front of them. She had just thrown another look over her shoulder when she bumped into someone. She was about to apologize and move on when the voice of the person she had run into reached her ears. “What happened that you look so panicked, Mary-Belle?”

Leopold looked at her questioningly when she grabbed his arms and looked at him with wide eyes. “Daimler is out looking for you. I saw his men stopping people who resembled you. He’ll be here soon.” She looked back over her shoulder seeing one of Daimler’s men already down the street. “There is one of them!” She pointed him out to Leo. “I’ll distract him,” she offered. “You go hide!” Leopold thanked her quickly before he turned on his heel and ran in the other direction.

She did her best to regain her composure taking a deep breath before she moved into the path of Daimler’s man, looking as much of a fine lady as she was born to be. Her mother had taught her well. “You’re looking for Prince Leopold, have I heard correctly? Did something happen to him?” She faked a surprised gasp, leaning in conspiratorially. “Did someone take him? I had thought my eyes were deceiving me when I saw him in Acton, but it seems he indeed left the palace. He must still be there. It hasn’t been long since then.” She was lucky this man didn’t recognize her as he thanked her for her help and ran off. Not even the fact that she knew of Leopold’s existence threw him off.

While that man was now going to look for Prince Leopold in the wrong part of the city, she remained in the right one. Since she didn’t know where exactly he went to hide, she walked on towards the place she had talked with him in yesterday. He wasn’t to find there either, but she recognized two of his friends standing around there. One of them was the brutish one who had rudely confronted her the day before. Billy, if she remembered correctly. The other one she hadn’t caught the name of but he was the one walking up to her now with a friendly smile on his face. “You’re Leo’s friend, aren’t you? I’m Spike! Nice to meet you! I actually wanted to apologize for this lad’s behavior yesterday.” He pointed his thumb back over his shoulder at Billy who was eyeing the two of them skeptically. He leaned in and whispered, “He can be nice too, y’know, just doesn’t show it in front of new people.” She chuckled. He seemed the type.

“I understand. I guess, I would be reluctant too if a stranger showed up all of a sudden. My name’s Mary-Belle, but you can call me Mary if you want,” she offered.

“Are you kidding me? Of course, I remembered your name. How could I forget? Grumpy over there wouldn’t shut up about you last night.” This caused a real laugh to bubble up in her throat. Spike laughed with her and led her over to mentioned Grumpy.

“Always a pleasure, Billy.” She smiled at him. His expression turned even sourer. She hadn’t known it to be possible hadn’t she seen it with her own eyes. She turned back towards Spike who seemed to be more willing to engage in a conversation with her. “Have you seen Leo by any chance? I was looking for him.”

“Haven’t seen him since he left the cellar this morning, but he’s supposed to meet us here soon. You’re welcome to wait with us.” Spike sent another one of his charming smiles her way which she returned.

“Thank you. I think I’ll do just that.” Turning towards Billy she cocked her head to the side. “So, Billy, harassed any girls already today?” Spike moved to stand between the two of them before Billy could do anything.

“Don’t you think that takes it a bit too far?”, he asked her.

“No, I don’t actually. He cornered me and wouldn’t let me go until you guys came around. That’s not alright, so no, I’m not taking it too far. I was lucky he was actually your friend and not a random person. Who knows what would’ve happened otherwise!”, she argued. Her voice remained calm, but her eyes gave away the storm of feelings inside of her. Spike looked taken aback, so was Billy. They hadn’t thought of it that way.

“I’m sorry,” was the first thing she ever heard Billy say without any menace lacing his words. Their eyes met for a moment before he looked away again and went back to being quiet.

Spike looked from one to the other, wondering if there would be any more or if she had made her point and that’s it. She didn’t say anything either. Rather she opted to lean against the wall they had been standing next to. Spike followed her move to stand next to her.

“So,” broke Mary-Belle the silence, “what have you guys been up to?” Spike and Billy shared a glance, their uncertainty about what to say evident on their faces. “Leo has told me all about the monsters, so don’t worry about that.”

“He has?”, blurted Billy.

“He has,” she confirmed. The boys shared a look, the meaning of which remained unknown to Mary-Belle, but the moment was over quickly and Spike turned towards her. Billy went back to watching the people who passed, seemingly uninterested in the conversation.

“Just boring things, really. Nothing you have to concern yourself with. But we barely know anything about you. Why don’t you tell us something?”

“There is not much to know, to be honest. I’ve lived a fairly easy life, everything dictated by my parents, much like it had been for Leo, but I always had a roof over my head and a warm bed. Whenever we were together, I felt free, like I could just be myself without having to behave the way everyone expected of me.” She stopped talking quickly, thinking back over her words and let out a chuckle. “That was probably not something one should share in their first conversation with someone. Anyways, my favorite colour is blue.”

“Oh, that’s Billy’s favourite colour as well!” Mary-Belle let out a relieved breath that Spike chose not to focus on the first part but kept the topic of conversation light. Her eyes met Billy’s for a second before he looked away again, ignoring Spike who had grabbed his shoulder. “Mine’s orange. You know, when the sun’s almost down but still colours the water. That orange.”

“I don’t even remember the last time I saw that, but it sounds nice,” she admitted. She probably had never seen that, having been held in carriages if they were out at that time. They barely went near the water either. Most of her travel was between her home and the castle.

Billy opened his mouth to add something to the conversation, but stopped himself when someone called out to Mary-Belle. Leo made his way over and asked to speak to her alone for a moment. “Thank you for keeping me company,” she said to the two boys, “both of you.” Her gaze went from Spike to Billy. Then she walked a few steps with Leo until they were out of earshot.

“Daimler found me,” he came right to the point.

“What? Then why are you here now? And not on your way back to the castle?” She tried to keep her voice calm, but failed as it was slightly raised.

“Mother wasn’t informed of me running away. He would lose his job if she knew he let me, so he won’t bother me again.”

“Are you sure? He’s smart, whether you like it or not. He will probably come up with another way to get you to come back. He knows where you are now.”

“He won’t be a problem. I know it.”

“If you say so.” She wasn’t convinced of it.

“I actually have to go now,” he noted. Over her shoulder he could see that Bea and Jessie had joined Spike and Billy and were now just waiting for him. “We will talk soon, I promise,” he adds at the hurt look that flashed across her face. She nodded and watched him go with the others.

Spike turned and waved at her as they were leaving. She raised her hand and gave him a wave as well. A small smile had made its way back onto her face. Another pair of eyes watched her before his focus was taken by Spike prodding him with his elbow. “Don’t tell me you’ve had a change of heart, Billy!”

Early the next day Mary-Belle heard word that Prince Leopold was to entertain his cousin Helena with a possible marriage in the future. Her mother had mentioned all that off-handedly during breakfast, making Mary-Belle choke on her tea. “I shall meet with him afterwards.”

“I’d assume they already count on you showing up on a day like this. Just be safe, your father had mentioned rising disturbances in the streets.”

“Of course, mother. I will be on my way shortly, then.”

Now she was walking the grounds, having been too late to show Leopold off to his meeting or talk to him about what had transpired the day before and too early since he was still having tea with Helena. Her mind was racing with thoughts about what might have happened, whether Leopold had come back willingly which she doubted but it was an option. Or maybe her worries had been legitimate and Daimler had found a way.

She got distracted by a commotion ahead of her. Palace guards stormed over to a person who had seemed to have jumped the wall. She neared cautiously which turned into confident steps when she identified the person being escorted off the grounds as Spike. She held herself high to convey as much authority as possible. “Let him go!”, she ordered, her voice not giving away the nervousness she was feeling as she stood up to the guards.

“But Lady-“, one of the guards who seemed to be in charge of the rest tried to argue.

“I said to let him go. He will come with me.” The guards who held onto Spike looked from her to their superior who nodded after a moment of consideration. They reluctantly let go of Spike who dusted off his jacket and reorganized his clothes. “And now you should go back to your posts.”

“Yes, Lady Mary-Belle!” They left, but not without wary side glances at Spike whom she turned to next.

“And you, follow me!” She started walking towards the castle. Spike easily fell into step next to her.

“That was amazing! I didn’t know you had it in you to have palace guards tremble in their knees. Thank you!” He looked back over his shoulder to watch the retreating guards.

“You don’t need to thank me. I’d rather you tell me what happened yesterday that Leo is back now.” Her brain seemed to just now catch up with her actions and the fact that Spike had tried to actually break into the Buckingham Palace. “And how you knew to come here! And why you did it. You just risked imprisonment or even a death sentence! Do you realize that? A lot of bad things could have happened, hadn’t I shown up.”

“Yes, but this is important! I had to come here and get Leo. He needs to come back with me.”

“Why? What happened?” She stopped next to the door she had used to enter the gardens. Her hand was already on the handle before she put it down again. This conversation was better to be had out of earshot of nosy palace personnel.

“Didn’t he tell you?”

She shook her head no. “I didn’t get the chance to speak with him yet.”

“Some guy told Bea who Leo is. He was in the cellar when we came back yesterday. She threw Leo out after. But we need him for what’s to come. She doesn’t know I’m here, but I know it’s what needs to be done.”

“I understand. Alright, come with me. He’s doing something right now, but I will make sure he speaks with you.” She led him through the palace halls, ignoring the hushed whispers of the people they passed at the sight of him. “Why did you come alone?”

Spike hesitated. “Bea doesn’t want to see him and I don’t know where Jessie is. Her and Bea had a fight.”

“What about Billy?”

He hesitated again. “He was imprisoned because he accidentally killed Vic Collins,” he admitted.

Mary-Belle stopped abruptly. Spike almost walked into her but caught himself before he did. When she turned towards him her eyes were widened in shock. “He did what? Wait- how… wha- how do you kill someone accidentally? And who is Vic Collins?”

Spike started to feel uncomfortable under her intense gaze and with the questions. He looked around before leaning in and whispering, “Can we talk about this somewhere else?” She realized they were out in the open, easy for anyone to listen in to their conversation.

“You’re right.” She grabbed his wrist and pulled him into the next room. A quick look around told her that they were alone, so she put her attention back on Spike. “Explain!”

“Well… don’t you want to sit down?”, he asked gesturing towards the chairs standing in the middle of the room.

“No, I don’t want to fucking sit down, Spike! Tell me what happened!” Her voice came out louder than intended. She tried to compose herself again with a few deep breaths but couldn’t help the anxious thoughts of all the possible things Spike might tell her now. Even though she hadn’t been particularly friendly with Billy, she never would have thought him a killer.

“Vic Collins was the master of the workhouse Billy and the girls were at. I don’t know everything that happened to them there but it wasn’t pretty. Billy saw him the other day and then last night… I don’t know exactly what happened but he told me it was an accident. Billy hit Vic. His head hit a pile of bricks and that was it. But Vic was one of them, so even if this was an accident…” He didn’t like speaking those next words. Luckily, he didn’t have to because Mary-Belle understood him anyways.

She knew how important these people were for Leo, so she made a decision rather quickly. “Where is he being held?” Spike told her. “I will take care of it,” she promised. “Leo will get out of his meeting shortly. Until then, I will leave you in good hands.” She once again led him out of the room. He was too perplexed to say much more. She was different than what he had imagined, doing that for a person she barely knew. Billy would be surprised, he thought.

She opened the door to the room she knew Louise would be occupying. She introduced Spike to her who was already charming his way into her heart when Mary-Belle left. On her way out, he called after her to meet them at Baker Street 221B, whether she succeeded or not.

Her first stop was her father’s office. The door was adorned with a plaque announcing the name of the person within. She entered after a voice from inside told her to come in. Her father was not a scary person. He might look the way with his stern gaze and his broad-shouldered physique and if Mary-Belle didn’t know him she would certainly be intimidated by him, but the person in front of her was her father who had never shown her anything but kindness.

“Mary-Belle, what a nice surprise!” His features softened as he recognized his daughter. “What are you doing here? I thought you would be at the palace.”

“I was.” She neared the desk her father was sitting behind. It was a big one, elegant, dark, something conveying his status. “I need your help, Father.”

“What is it, Mary-Belle? Come, sit!” He came around the table and led her to sit in one of the comfortable chairs he had standing by the wall. He took a seat next to her, taking in her troubled expression. “What can I help you with?”

“There is this boy…”, she started, but was interrupted.

“Are you in love, darling?”

“No, no, that’s not it.” She had to laugh a little at the absurdity of the thought. “He is a friend of mine, but something happened. He… There was an incident. He defended himself, but while doing so the other man… he- he died. And now my friend is going to get a death sentence because he is poor and the man he killed was a master at the workhouse. But he is not at fault, Father! It was in self-defense! He does not deserve this, so I need to get him out. Please, Father, will you help me?”

Her father hummed understandingly. “That is quite the situation your friend has gotten himself into. But I might be of help. If he is important to you, he is important to me.”

“Oh, thank you, Father!” She couldn’t hold back the smile as she threw her arms around him. When she let go of him, he walked over to his desk and pulled a piece of paper out of one of the drawers. She watched as he wrote something down on it, put it in an envelope and sealed it. He did the same thing a second time, putting names on both envelopes.

“Now I need you to do something. I do not have the time to do it myself, so I’m leaving this task to you.” She nodded, already reaching out for the envelope her father held towards her. “Bring this to Governor Jameson. If he does as it says in the letter, he will give you one as well. Then this one,” he handed her the second envelope, “you bring to the Chief of Police. As well as the one you will get from Governor Jameson. It will probably not be enough, so,” he opened another drawer. Two little sacks were put onto the desk, the content clinging as they were moved, “here is some money. He may not let him out just by the words of some important people, but I know the man. He is as greedy as they come. Give him this. Save some coins to give to the ones working where your friend is being held. I can’t do any more than this, but I hope it is enough.”

“Thank you so much, Father!” She grabbed the coin bags and put them into the pockets of her skirt before she turned to leave.

“I hope you can get him out, darling. And take care!”

“Of course! I will see you tonight!” She held onto the letters as tight as she could without damaging them as she ran through the streets of London. Governor Jameson’s office was not far but the streets were rowdy. She let out a sigh of relief when she entered the house.

The governor wouldn’t speak with her right away. She was told he was in an important meeting, so she waited in the hall. Every now and then someone passed her but they usually didn’t pay attention to her. As she waited, she thought about what was happening at the palace right now, if Spike already had the chance to speak to Leopold and what he had said. Maybe he went with him. She hoped he did. From what Spike told her they needed him. He had become a part of their group. And now she had to work on getting the last member of that group back.

Now that she had time to think, the pressure she was under sank in. She was responsible for getting Billy out of jail and through that saving his life. If she failed, what other options would he have? Would it be over for him then? She didn’t like to think about that outcome. This needed to work. If not, she wouldn’t know what to do anymore.

A young man came towards her. “Governor Jameson will see you now, Miss.” He showed her the way, knocked and opened the door for her to enter.

“Ah, Lady Mary-Belle. How is your father? I would believe he has much to do with the way people seem to be acting at the moment.” The man behind the desk had a round face. He usually tried to hide his receding hairline with a hat which was now hanging from the hat stand next to the door. He invited her farther into the room before he asked what he could do for her.

“My father sent me. He gave me this letter for you,” she explained and held the envelope out to him. He took it with a smile that couldn’t quite hide his surprised expression. It was unusual for anyone to send their daughters for business purposes. He opened the envelope, intently reading the letter inside, nodding along as he read. “I see,” he muttered when he put it down. “That’s quite the dilemma. I will support this, but tell your father he owes me.” He picked up a pen and pulled a piece of paper from a drawer.

“Of course! Thank you, sir!” He quickly scribbled some lines down before he sealed the letter into an envelope. “I believe you have somewhere else to go now, so I won’t keep you any longer, but remember that this won’t come without a price.”

“Yes, thank you again, sir. I will be on my way then.” She took the envelope from him. Now that she had the letters whose content she was unfamiliar with she felt like half the work was done already, but she was unsure of how the conversation with the Chief of Police would go. He might be the biggest obstacle in her way.

Even getting an opportunity to speak with the Chief of Police turned out to be quite the deed. The whole building was bustling with people running around. There were shouts and clamoring. Everyone was restless. She tried to go about it as usual, walking up to the reception and waiting for someone to offer their help. But even behind the reception desk there was no one who spared her a second glance as they went about their business, frantically looking for things and calling people’s names. She stood there for what felt like forever just watching them ignore her. The door kept being opened and closed, the slam filling the air each time it fell shut. And each time it did, Mary-Belle jumped a little. When the loud noise of the door closing sounded again, she decided she would not wait around any longer. Since nobody paid attention to her anyways at the moment, she used it to her advantage and tried to find her way through the hallways to the one person she needed to speak with.

She never thought it would be this easy to get inside the Headquarters without being stopped, but there she was reading the signs by the doors that would tell her which room she had to enter. She blamed it on the current situation with all that negative supernatural energy or whatever it was in the air. It might’ve helped to ask more about that, but now it was too late. The thumping footsteps came and went, but they never stopped next to her.

When she finally found the right room, she was out of breath. The building was larger than it looked like from the outside. But she was also incredibly nervous. Now was the moment that would decide Billy’s future. She fumbled for the two letters in the pockets of her skirt. The paper got scrunched a little by how tightly she held onto it. This was it. This was possibly the only chance.

She knocked. She wanted to knock with force, letting the Chief know that she was no person easily intimidated, but it was a faint, polite knock. A knock in the way her mother had taught her. Still, it was heard, even over the commotion happening all around and she was asked to enter.

The midday sun illuminated the room, its rays finding their way through the big windows behind the desk the Chief was sitting behind. He watched intently as she entered, curious as to what a young girl was doing there at a time like this. “Please, sit down. What may I help you with, miss?”

She did as she was told, sitting down in one of the two chairs facing the desk. It was uncomfortable, not meant to be sat on for a long time and Mary-Belle felt utterly unwelcome even though the Chief of Police gave her a smile. It didn’t reach his eyes though which were accentuated by the dark bags under them. She once again made use of the mask of confidence she put on at the palace. “Hello, sir. My name is Mary-Belle Heavensforth, daughter of Lord Aaron Heavensforth. I come to you regarding the case of a young man who is now in confinement. I may answer any question you have, but first, you should read these letters.” She handed them over, surprised at the fact that her hand was not shaking.

He broke the seal of the first letter quickly, scanning over the lines before he turned his attention to the second letter. He held one in each hand, his gaze darting from one to other, humming in acknowledgement. The content of the letters was unknown to Mary-Belle, so she had to assume her father only gave information he had known from her. He might have left out some details – the letter wasn’t long enough to have the whole story and the plea – so it was on her to fill in any information he might still need and to do anything it would take to get Billy out. “I see,” he said before he looked over the brim of the papers at her. “So, you believe this boy to be innocent.” She nodded. “Explain to me then what transpired and why you think we should let him go.” So, she gave him the story that Spike had told her, about the master at the workhouse, his history with Billy and his friends and what had happened the night Vic Collins died. “And were you there that night? Did you see it with your own eyes?”

She faltered. What was the best way to go about this? “I was not.” She chose to stick with the truth. “But,” she followed up, “I do know this boy. He would not consort to this kind of violence if he weren’t defending himself or the people he loved. And he would never kill someone with intent. In front of you, you have the testimonies of two highly educated and sophisticated men with power. They speak out for his release and vouch for him.” At least she hoped that this was what was written on those pages her father had sent with her. “I vouch for him as well even though my word might not mean much to you. I will see to it that such thing will not happen again and that you may not hear of him badly anymore.”

“It does say here that your father will see to it that the boy may be put under his supervision. I do believe that your father is a man of his word. I have not been proven to think any less of him yet.” The Chief put one of the letters down to scratch his beard in thought. “But I can’t just write you a release form for this boy out of nowhere.”

“My father had guessed you might say something like that, so he gave me this for you.” She reached into her pockets once again and pulled out one coin bag. She sat it on top of his desk, making sure the coins made a sound as she dumped it on top of his papers. He snatched it up immediately, opening it to look inside at the shiny coins.

“That is indeed a compelling argument,” he pondered. He weighed the bag in his hand eyeing the coins with great interest. “Alright, I will write a release form for this boy, but do have your father contact me again in a few days. I need to speak with him.”

“Of course.” She could barely suppress her smile. She did it! She actually did it! Billy would get out and not die by judge’s rule. She looked on as the Chief shouted for someone. The door swung open revealing a rather young-looking man. His hair was disheveled and he seemed to be just as busy as everyone else in the building.

“Please, show this young lady to our front area,” he addressed the man. Mary-Belle felt panic rush in. If he had just betrayed her, taken the money and the letters, she would have lost. She would have fought for Billy’s life without success and would have to leave him to his destiny. As much as she had thought about it, there was no other way. She would be back on the streets with no trumps up her sleeve and the impending death of a boy weighing down her heart. But, the Chief turned back towards her as she lifted herself off the chair. “I will have the letter brought to you shortly. Just wait down there and that boy will be free as soon as you get the letter to the according office. That is, if your father follows up with his promise that the boy will be put under his care. He will be responsible for the boy’s actions, so he better behave or it will be over with your father’s good standing.”

She recognized his words as they were. A threat. As easily as he could get Billy out of prison now, he could put him back and take her father down right beside him. “Yes, Sir!”

She had to wait in that front area for way too long. People passed. She watched the same people that would enter the building leave it again. A cycle that seemed to find no end and still no release letter in sight. The doubt crept in slowly again. He could just take the money and act like nothing ever happened. She would have nothing against him. And who would believe her? She had no such standing as he did. She was already thinking about how to break the news to Leo and Spike and their other friends. She wasn’t even able to do that. She was quite useless apparently. And replaceable. Leopold had shown it clearly. Each time it seemed so easy for him to leave her and just run off to his new friends and go on adventures with them. Compared to them she had nothing to offer, except for her love but even that he didn’t want.

When the letter finally arrived, given to her by the same man who had led her out of the office, she just took it without another word and left. He would probably not care enough to take the story of her rude behavior back to his superior. She had somewhere to be now and she didn’t care about other people’s opinions at the moment. She felt troubled enough, torn between her love for Leopold and the selfish wish of having him back at the palace with her, away from his new friends and the fact that they were nice people who did nothing wrong. They offered Leopold some form of family, something he couldn’t find at the palace. Something she apparently couldn’t compare to. And now one of them had his life on the line. No matter how she felt towards them she could not just let someone die who didn’t deserve it while knowing she could do something about it. And apparently, she could. Or rather her father could. For the first time ever, she realized how far connections and money could get someone. It opened doors and gave you leverage. She had always been amazed by her father. Now even more so. Even though she didn’t spend that much time with him, she’d always admired him, his hard work and how far it had gotten him.

The scene outside had changed since she had entered the building. Where before the streets seemed quite deserted and eerily quiet, there was now clamoring coming from every corner, frightened screams, angry yells, shocked cries. She dared a quick glance down the first alley she passed on her way to where Billy was held. Two men were rolling in the dirt, their shirts already speckled with blood that dripped from their respective faces. Dirt covered all their clothes as they held onto each other, throwing punches mindlessly. As long as they made contact, they seemed satisfied. She hurried to get away from there and stayed away from small alleys the rest of the way.

She was stopped right after entering the building. An arm shot out, followed by a body that moved in front of her. The burly man sneered at her. “This is no place for a little girl like you.”

She brushed over the comment, choosing to stay professional. “I am here on business,” she announced, handing over the letter from the Chief of Police. “I am to get a boy you are holding here.” He snatched the letter from her hand. He took a quick glance over the written words before he let out a groan. “Fine. Jackson,” he screamed into the room he had previously come out of, “get that orphan kid from the cell. We’re letting him go.” He didn’t seem pleased about it as he looked back at her. “You should be careful. He’s dangerous.”

“I am aware,” she answered nonchalantly before she pulled the second coin bag out of her pocket and put it into the hands of the officer. “For your troubles.” She smiled politely. His eyes narrowed onto the bag, intrigued by the weight in his hand. His demeanor changed drastically in a split second.

“Of course. It is our duty to be here for the people of London. Now, if you will excuse me, I have to get back to work, but you will be brought to the boy shortly.” Mary-Belle refrained from rolling her eyes, but gave him a polite smile and nod instead. At least until his back was turned towards her. She doubted he would work now. He will probably go to sit down in private and count the coins in the bag.

Another man appeared in the door. “Please, follow me. He is being held in the back.” The smile on this man’s face seemed way more genuine than the old man’s. He couldn’t be more than a few years older than her. He led her down the narrow hall and down some stairs into a gloomy basement that held the cell. It was packed to the brim with all different kinds of people. She couldn’t find Billy at first glance, the many bodies obstructing her view. The man, Jackson, walked over to the guard by the door telling him what was about to happen. His eyes wandered over to her figure shortly before looking back at Jackson and narrowing his eyes. It took him some more talking to before he turned around and focused his gaze on someone. “You, orphan boy,” he called out catching the blonde’s attention, “you’re free to go.” The barred door rattled as it was pushed open. The surprise on Billy’s face was obvious as he stepped out of the cell. “You have that lady over to thank.” The guard gestured over to you.

A look of confusion washed over Billy’s face as he saw Mary-Belle standing at the bottom of the stairs. He never expected to see her there, especially not to get him out of jail. He was too shocked to say anything as he neared her. Mary-Belle quickly grew tired of his non-reaction. She grabbed his wrist and led him out of the shabby cellar and out onto the street where the people were still clamoring and screaming at each other. A different picture than what she was used to seeing in the streets of London.

Billy got ahold of himself quickly after they made it outside. The fresh air helped him focus his thoughts. As soon as they got to the street, he jerked his hand out of her hold, making her turn to look at him expectantly, eyebrows raised and hands on her hips. “What are you doing?”, he asked, still in that tone like he hated her guts and was spitting accusations.

“You know, you should be nicer to the person who got you out of a trial that would most definitely have ended in your death.” That shut him up, at least momentarily, but he also did not deem it necessary to thank her. He glared at her for another moment before he left her standing there. She watched after him in bewilderment at his audacity. But Billy rethought his decision when he saw at least five people in a fistfight happening over a dead body. It was already worse than he had thought. He walked back over to her, grabbed her wrist like she had his before and dragged her along with him, past the fighting people.

“We are supposed to meet Spike at Baker Street 221B,” she told him after they had walked in silence for a minute. Billy wondered shortly how she came to know this, what happened while he had been in that cell that now this girl he barely knew got him out of his certain doom, but he kept quiet and led her to Baker Street 221B.

They were the last to arrive. The whole group was already present. Bea and Spike were happy to see Billy out as a free man and greeted him happily, enclosing him in hugs. They thanked Mary-Belle for her help before they turned their attention back to him. When the three of them and Leo moved to the other room, she didn’t know whether to follow them or leave. Eventually, she took some steps to follow them but stopped in the doorway. There, in the room, a dark-haired girl was lying unconsciously on the sofa with the others gathered around her. It seemed an intimate situation that she didn’t want to intrude on, so she made the decision to leave them now. She had done her part and was not needed anymore.

A tall man walked towards the room the teenagers were gathered in when Mary-Belle was about to open the door. He stopped in his tracks when he saw her. His gaze followed her arm to the door handle. “You shouldn’t go out there now,” he advised. Joyful sounds came from the adjacent room. The girl must have woken up. “Come with me,” he ordered and so, she followed him back to the room.

The girl that had been previously unconscious was sitting upright on the sofa now and told this man about a place they needed to go to. He nodded sternly and told the boys to follow him, leaving Mary-Belle alone with the two girls. She felt entirely out of place and didn’t know what to say or do. She couldn’t even look at them, so she walked over to the window and looked outside while the other two were speaking in hushed voices among themselves.

Outside was a mess, people running around, swinging weapons of all sorts, handmade, bought or just using whatever was available to hurt others. Just outside the window she was looking on as a man bashed in the skull of another, his teeth fletched. He even seemed to be growling at the man who was lying at his feet, blood flowing out of his fatal wound, coloring the sidewalk a dark red. Mary-Belle covered her mouth with a shaky hand at the barbaric act that had occurred in front of her eyes. And when the man looked up, his crazy eyes staring right into hers she let out a gasp and took a step back. She had seen pure rage in his eyes, no clear thoughts, just the urge to hurt and kill.

Her eyes were still fixed on the curtain. It had fallen back into place but she still had the image of the open skull and the look in the man’s eyes on her mind as if she was still staring at it. A hand grabbed her arm and pulled her away. Her gaze travelled to the person who sat her down on a chair far away from the window. She was still shaking. It was Billy whose place was quickly taken by Leo. He had looked out the window to see what had left you in this state. The crazy man was gone, but the body was still lying there on the sidewalk. Leo kneeled down by her side. His hand rested on her knee as he talked to her reassuringly. Her breathing calmed after a short while as the others looked on. She found words to answer Leo’s worried questions in a quiet voice.

As it was clear that she would be fine the other’s attention shifted. Beatrice and Jessie shared a look that had a clear meaning. They had to go. Now. Beatrice announced it to the group that immediately moved to the entrance. Bea stayed back a moment longer with Leo and Mary-Belle. “She’s coming with us!”, Leo insisted, looking up at Bea from his kneeling position.

The girl did not have the time to argue with him right now. They were in a hurry, so she agreed. “As long as she doesn’t get in the way.

“I won’t,” Mary-Belle promised and stood up to join the rest of the group.

When they left the building, warned by Watson to stay together, she threw a glance in the direction of the window she had been standing in. The body looked different now. Pieces of the skull and brain were scattered around it. Bile rose up in her throat, but she forced herself to look away and keep moving. She promised not to be in the way and so she wouldn’t. And she wouldn’t slow them down either. She hiked up her skirt – which was a very inconvenient choice of clothing for the occasion – and hurried after the others.

She was filled in about the whole situation by Leo on the way. To say she was shocked would be an understatement. “I thought you said you’d be safe!”, she exclaimed in frustration and anger. “That is not ‘being safe’! It’s like the opposite of safe. We are literally running towards the danger!”

“The danger is all around us!”, he retaliated. “We have to stop this! We’re the only ones that can because we know what is happening.”

They came to a stop in front of the entrance to Aldgate Station. Watson tried to open the door, unsuccessfully. It was jammed. It only took him a moment to come up with a different plan. He showed them another entrance, through the sewers. All of them stood around the hole looking down into the dark. Even though it was the only way to get to the Linen Man and Sherlock, a shudder crept down Mary-Belle’s spine at the thought of going down there.

Billy nudged Spike to tell him to go first, but he refused. There was another moment where none of them moved a muscle but then Mary-Belle heard distant noises which made her overcome her fears for a moment and announced, “Then I’ll go first!” She quickly climbed down before she could change her mind again but the growling and yelps coming from up there just helped to reassure her in her decision. Her skirt tore on the way down. She didn’t complain though as it gave her more freedom to move although it was a bad day to have worn one of her favorite dresses.

Surprisingly, the sewers were lit well enough to see without any additional gadgets. It only took Mary-Belle a moment to get used to the dim lighting. By the time she was able to see completely fine, the others have found their way down. Watson instructed them to stay together and to be quiet. It would be over for them if the Linen Man knew they were there. In moments like this Mary-Belle regretted tagging along. She was pretty certain she would die today. How could a bunch of teenagers save the world? Especially from some supernatural Rip that’s threatening to absorb this world? She still didn’t quite get what was actually happening. It was all a bit hard to wrap her mind around.

She kept close to Watson while moving through the tunnel. Sticking close to the only adult seemed like the most reasonable decision. He gave the impression he knew what he was doing which made her feel a little safer.

Nobody noticed the moment Beatrice stopped moving with them. Only when she cried out in agony they realized and quickly rushed back to her. Panic washed over Mary-Belle as she remembered the words Watson said about what would happen if the Linen Man found out they were there. Watson covered her mouth to stop her screams, hoping against all hope that the Linen Man and Sherlock hadn’t heard them yet and thus knew that they were close.

They started moving again after Beatrice had calmed down. It hadn’t taken long but time was precious now. With every second passing the world was closer to its end. Mary-Belle still remained close to Watson while she kept stealing glances at Beatrice to gather whether she would be alright. Every single sound had her on edge.

That the boys were not behind them anymore was suddenly realized when they started crying out. Beatrice did as well, clutching her head and sinking towards the ground. Tears were streaming over her face and she mumbled, “No, no, don’t go! Mum! Mum!” Mary-Belle tore her gaze away from Beatrice when gunshots were fired right next to her. The loud sound left her ear ringing. She only saw a flash of white before it was gone, scared away by Watson’s gun. Jessica ran after it and left them to deal with Beatrice who would not calm down.

The boys’ cries could still be heard as well, Leo’s standing out to Mary-Belle the most. She couldn’t bear hearing that and doing nothing, so she ran towards him. Watson shouted her name after her, telling her to not walk off alone, but she didn’t listen. If he didn’t have to take care of Beatrice, he would’ve gotten up to stop her, but he couldn’t leave the crying girl on the ground alone there.

Mary-Belle ran back down the path they had taken, following his outcries, she quickly found Leopold. He was sitting on the ground, knees pulled up to his chest and his head between his hands. He screams and cries out. Each cry tore more at her chest. He removed his hands from his ears to stare at them as if he could see something on them that she didn’t. She dropped down next to him and tried to talk him out of it like he did with her back at Baker Street, but she couldn’t get through to him, so she just sat there, quiet tears rolling down her face at seeing the boy she loved in this state.

And then it stopped. From one moment to the next, his screams quieted down. He looked up from the ground and towards her in confusion, not grasping what had just happened. Relief flooded her system as she threw her arms around him. It took a moment, but then he returned the hug, desperately holding on to her.

Billy’s voice called out to Leo prompting them to let go off each other. He appeared in front of them seconds after and helped Leo off the ground who in turn helped Mary-Belle. His movements were still slow and staggered like he didn’t quite have a grasp on reality. Billy then called out to Spike who called back immediately. The three of them moved towards where his voice was coming from, finding him on the ground as well. He was already back on his feet when they came to a stop by his side. They made sure he was unharmed, physically at least, before continuing on the way they had gone before this happened, hoping to reunite with Beatrice, Watson and Jessica.

When Beatrice and Watson were already in sight, just down the tunnel, the earth began to rumble, debris falling down, dust collecting on their heads and clothes. Leopold pulled Mary-Belle back before the ceiling of the tunnel collapsed in front of them, separating them from Beatrice and Watson.

When most of the dust settled and she could see clearly again she saw Billy lying on the ground. His leg was pinned under two big stoned and he knew that it was wrecked. “Billy! Leo!”, Beatrice shouted from the other side of the rubble as Leo and Spike helped Billy up. He couldn’t put weight on the leg without crying out in pain, so Spike supported him. They let Beatrice know that his leg was probably broken.

A short argument broke out since Beatrice wanted them to go back to the cellar but Billy refused to leave them. “Be reasonable, Billy,” Mary-Belle chimed in. “The tunnels aren’t safe and you wouldn’t be of much help anyway with your leg. You should rest before it will get even worse,” she argued.

Billy was about to retort when Beatrice spoke up again. “Listen to her, Billy!” She sounded desperate. “And promise me… Promise me that you’ll keep each other safe.” Silence overcame them for a moment as they thought about what they were going to do before Spike agreed and gave her the promise. Leo followed suit. For Billy to agree it took some more demands from Beatrice. Her voice still sounded strong despite her desperation and in that moment Mary-Belle realized what Leopold saw in her. “Mary-Belle?” Beatrice called out to her as well, this time a bit calmer. “Will you promise me, too?” She was surprised that Beatrice wanted her to give the promise as well. After all, she was not a part of their group.

“Of course,” she replied nonetheless, never having thought of doing anything other. “I promise.” With those promises made they went on their way, Leopold going to Billy’s other side to support him as well. Mary-Belle walked behind them. Still feeling uneasy, she kept throwing glances over her shoulder like something would appear there at any moment. Thankfully, it didn’t and they made it out of the sewers without any more incidents.

“Mary-Belle, here, take over!”, Spike instructed you, so that he could move in front of them to protect them. She took his place at Billy’s side. He slung his arm over her shoulder begrudgingly. He didn’t have much of a choice now about who would help him move. He just needed to get home and off the streets, so he would have to get used to the idea of Mary-Belle supporting him on the way.

The streets were ruthless. Never had she seen anything like this. The people had turned crazy. The ones that hadn’t either fell victim to the ones that had or hid out in their homes behind barred doors and windows. Having to basically carry Billy through the streets slowed them down immensely. Each time they came upon someone she tensed but kept moving in the strong believe that when it came to it, Spike would protect them. Most of the time they were ignored though. Maybe they were not interesting enough for those who found liking in eating someone’s intestines. The things Mary-Belle had already seen today were nightmare material for the rest of her life, but she doubted that it would be all. The day wasn’t over yet, the world hadn’t ended yet. There was still time to be traumatized even more.

With each step Billy hissed in pain. He tried his hardest not to scream but some steps were even worse than the ones before and he couldn’t stop the screams that escaped him.

The sight of the ‘Duck and Quiver’ sign was a relief. They had made it. Mary-Belle was out of breath. Her body was hurting from having to haul Billy all the way through the city but she did not dare compare it to the pain he must be feeling. He had to sit down for a moment on the stairs across the street from the pub, groaning and hissing. They had tried to stabilize his leg. It didn’t do much but was probably better than just leaving it without.

“Watson was right,” said Leo, “the city’s turning. With the Rip the way it is every time someone prays for help or wishes, that’s all it takes now.”

“We should’ve stayed and found a way through. We’re useless here,” added Billy.

“You would have been useless there, too,” Mary-Belle remarked, growing tired of his behavior. “I mean, look at you. You can barely stand. What would you have done there? Going back was the best option whether you choose to believe it or not.”

“You-“ Billy’s answer was cut short as what looked like blue lightning soared through the sky. It rumbled, crackled and sissed as it came down from the sky and connected with the building that held the pub. Blue lines danced along the walls as the magic – there was no other way Mary-Belle could describe it – made its way into the building.

“Jessie still hasn’t closed the Rip,” observed Leo. “It’s nearly over. It could be too late now.”

Spike rushed them to get moving again, so that they could find shelter in the cellar and hope for the best. Mary-Belle moved back to Billy’s side and helped him get up as Leo took his other side. They stopped again shortly after as terrified screams came towards them and a bunch of people came running from behind the corner, a weapon-swinging attacker after them. They tried to stop him as he had a nun cornered against her door but without any luck.

Spike didn’t hesitate as he lunged forward and knocked him out with his rifle. The man fell to the ground having lost his consciousness. Spike was rather excited about the fact that he succeeded in taking him down. “I rifled him! I rifled him!”, he announced in disbelief. Leo, Billy and Mary-Belle moved over to him as he helped up the nun who had been cowering on the ground. She told them how the man came after them in the church. She was desperate as she told them that they had nowhere to go. Billy immediately offered that they could come with them and so, they made their way to the cellar together.

Mary-Belle let out a sigh of relief when Spike closed the door behind them and barred it. With walls surrounding them she felt a lot safer than out on the street. They set Billy down on a chair. Without him weighing down on her she stood up straight again and rolled her shoulders to get at least some of the tension out. It barely worked. The stress and anxiety just made her more tense. No rolling her shoulders would help with that.

Sister Anna, as Mary-Belle had found out the nun was called, moved to the back of the cellar with the other two they had taken in while Billy, Spike, Leo and Mary-Belle stayed more in the front. She went to stand with Leo. “How are you feeling?”, she asked.

“I’m not sure, to be honest. That was close back there. You do realize you were almost crushed back then, don’t you?” His gaze was fixed on her, worry in his eyes.

“Don’t turn this on me now,” she scolded. “I asked how you were doing. I am fine, thanks to you, but the Linen Man got into your mind. What did you see? Do you want to talk about it?”

“I- There was blood, so much blood. I-I don’t know. I thought I was about to die.” His eyes glazed over as he thought back on the visions he had. “I was all alone and I thought I was dying.” He didn’t say anything else, stuck on that feeling. Mary-Belle wrapped him into another hug bringing him back into the moment. “Thank you!” He smiled at her softly before his gaze moved over to Billy who was breathing heavily from the extortion that getting to the cellar had been for him. “How did you get Billy out of jail anyway?” She recalled the story for him, stressing that it wouldn’t have been possible if she had done it without her father’s help. “How did he take the condition that he would be under your father’s supervision?”

“I didn’t tell him yet,” she admitted, avoiding the reproachful look he gave her. “How am I supposed to tell him? I can barely be near him without him hating every moment. That doesn’t really make me enjoy his company either. He hates me. I’m sure of it.”

“He doesn’t hate you,” Leo argued. “That’s how he was with me at first as well. Now we’re friends. New people are not really his thing, I guess, especially rich ones.”

“Leo’s right.” Mary-Belle jumped at Spike’s sudden appearance by her side. “It may be hard to believe for you, but Billy is actually quite nice and a good friend. He cares. More than he admits himself sometimes. And I bet he doesn’t hate you. You two just got off on the wrong foot.”

“So, you’re saying…”

“You should talk to him.” Spike and Leopold both rolled their eyes at the groan she let out. They kept looking at her expectantly as she waited to see who would give in first.

“Ugh, fine.” She was the first to break. She turned towards Billy and even got a little shove from Spike to get her to move. She shot a sour glance at him over her shoulder but went to sit down next to Billy. He looked up from what he was doing to focus on her. She couldn’t quite decipher the way he was looking at her. It might be hatred, might be intrigue, might be disgust.

“What are you doing?” He asked after she did not speak up after sitting down.

“I just wanted to sit,” she replied but she could feel Spike and Leo watching her, their gazes boring into her and giving her the motivation to talk a little more. “How are you feeling?”

“Still think we should’ve stayed, should’ve been there for Bea and Jess,” he grumbled.

“Look,” she tried to explain once again, “I told you. With your leg like that, you can barely move. Just getting here already took such a strain on you. If it had come down to it, if we had to get out of there quickly, you would’ve held everyone back. You can’t do much with your leg like that. And if we hadn’t come here, who knows what would’ve happened to Sister Anna. It was the most reasonable decision. I am sure, Beatrice thought the same. Otherwise, she probably wouldn’t have sent you back. She wanted you to stay safe and I bet she won’t let herself get hurt either. You will all be together again.”

He considered her for a moment. “I guess,” he agreed begrudgingly. They sat in silence for another minute or two. Both of them looking anywhere but at each other. “Thank you,” he finally mumbled. At her confused gaze he groaned once more. “For getting me out of the trial, I mean. You’re right. If they had gone through with it, it would have ended with my death sentence, so thank you. I appreciate it.”

“How about we start over?”, she proposed, turning so she could properly face him.

“What do you mean?”

“Just what I said. Start over.” She paused for a second before giving him a bright smile and extending her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. My name is Mary-Belle.” Throwing all the things she had learned about etiquette out the window she introduced herself with only her first name.

Billy seemed surprised at that. He looked thoughtfully at her outstretched hand before he grasped it. His eyes didn’t leave hers as he pressed her hand gently. “Billy. The pleasure’s all mine.” He laughed a little as he let go of her hand. It brought a genuine smile to her face as she chuckled along. “So,” Billy stated. His gaze was on Leo and Spike who were looking over in a manner that was not very inconspicuous, “do they think I would murder you or is there another reason they are watching us this intently?”

She followed his gaze. The two boys weren’t bothered by the fact that their attention was now on them. “They might. Or they think I would you. We do not have the best history after all.”

“You’re different from what I thought,” Billy admitted which took her by surprise.

“Elaborate.”

“Do I have to?” His eyes found hers again. A teasing smile adorned his lips.

“You do,” she insisted.

“I guess, we met you at a time I was also very suspicious of Leo. For good reason, I might add. He lied to us. I have forgiven him for that, don’t worry,” he added after he saw the look that she gave him before he continued, “But my experiences with nobility hadn’t been very good. I didn’t trust him, so I wouldn’t trust you either. I was rude and I scared you. I’m sorry about that. I thought you’d be just like the others who are well-off, up-tight with a stick up your arse and thinking you are better than everyone else, especially those living like we do. But you are… not like that.” He didn’t explain any further.

“I take that as a compliment, so thank you. You’re not as much of a rowdy as I thought you were.” She squeezed his shoulder as she got up as a way to end the conversation, before she walked over to Leo and Spike.

“He seemed to have taken the news well,” noticed Leo.

She just sighed, hanging her head in shame. “I couldn’t do it. We got along for once and I didn’t want to destroy that right after.”

“You have to tell him at some point.”

“I know. Let’s just survive the night first and then I will tell him. I promise.”

They were shaken out of their conversation when a rattling sounded from the door. Someone was trying to get in. They came together at the bottom of the stairs, ready to defend the cellar. Somehow, Mary-Belle ended up next to Billy who noticed the way she watched the rattling door. Each of them grabbed a weapon. Billy handed her one as well. “Scared?”, he asked.

“Of course. Unlike you apparently, I’ve never seen anything like this before.”

“I’m scared, too,” he admitted quietly before chaos reigned down upon them. Surprisingly it didn’t come the way they expected with the door splintering and bloodthirsty people storming in but with the Sister finishing a prayer. They hadn’t been able to stop her from saying that last faithful word. They barely moved fast enough to watch her turn. Her eyes turned black, no light shining in them, no life, no recognition. The dark lines crawling over her skin made her look monstrous, inhuman. But even as her appearance had changed into something not quite human, her voice remained calm as she spoke to the two who were kneeling in front of her and had been praying with her. They too were overcome with the magic of the Rip, not moving away from her, not screaming as she broke their necks.

She then turned her attention to the four of them, calling them heathens as she neared. Her skin was pale, a stark contrast to the dark veins and her black eyes. Mary-Belle was terrified. The feeling only deepening when the bullet Spike shot at her did her no harm. Mary-Belle was pulled back and down some stairs until she moved on her own. Leo supported Billy again as they ran from the cold-hearted monster that had once been a loving person filling people’s hearts with warmth. Spike stopped to reload his rifle. Even if the bullet might not do damage, it might slow her down. But before he was able to target her, she grabbed the rifle out of his hand and threw it to the ground. Her hands gripped the front of his shirt and threw him into a corner. He didn’t move or make a sound, worrying his friends. Mary-Belle could just watch, frozen in place, as Billy attacked the monster. She flinched with every punch and kick he got before he too was thrown across the room. His body slid on the ground until his head bumped against the wall and he fell unconscious.

Her feet were frozen. No matter how much she willed them to move they wouldn’t. She stood there and watched as the monster came towards her. In the corner of her eye she still saw Leo trying to get between her and the monster before she felt her hands on her, felt a dull pain and everything went black.

She came back to when her body was shaken. Slowly opening her eyes while trying to ignore the searing pain behind them she saw Leo towering over her. The worry on his face changed into relief when her eyes found his. She groaned as she sat up, holding her pounding head. Leo helped her up, holding onto her arms tightly. “It’s over!”, he explained. “It’s over! Jessie must have closed the Rip!” She felt great relief as she clung onto Leo.

“Is Spike alright?”, she asked after pulling away from him.

“Am fine, love,” the boy called over having heard her ask the question. Her face lit up as she realized that he was indeed alright. She rushed over and gave him a hug as well, surprising him, but he didn’t complain. Near-death experiences did bring people closer together. Either way, she had always liked the charismatic boy. In her mind they were friends. In his, too. She just didn’t know.

“And you?”, she asked Billy who was sitting down again. The fight could not have been good for his broken leg.

“Not much worse than before,” he answered honestly. Apart from the throbbing in his head, his leg gave him the greatest pain, but it had done that before, too. She nodded at that. They were well and alive and the world wouldn’t end today. She looked around the cellar once more, noticing the absence of the Sister and the bodies. They must have already taken them out while she was unconscious.

“I should probably go, then,” she started, but was stopped by Billy.

“You should at least wait until Bea and Jessie come back and tell us what happened. You deserve to hear the story, too.” The other two boys agreed. It didn’t take much convincing to get her to stay a little longer. They sat in silence, much needed after everything that had happened. It was interrupted after a while by the door opening. Steps made their way down into the cellar. The two girls appeared, covered in dirt with sad looks on their faces that were replaced by happy and relieved ones at the sight of everyone being there.

Mary-Belle watched the way Leopold and Beatrice looked at each other as they got closer and enveloped each other in a hug. It was adoring, loving, in a way Leopold had never looked at her, but she understood now. Understood how she could never compare to Beatrice who was so adventurous and brave. More hugs were exchanged while Mary-Belle just sat there and watched on. There was a short moment Beatrice and her held eye-contact. The black-haired girl nodded at Mary-Belle as a sign of respect and as a thank you for keeping the promise she had made. She couldn’t justify not liking Beatrice anymore after today, but she didn’t know if that made it harder or easier to let go of her feelings for Leo.

She stayed seated as the girls found their own seats and the boys went back to theirs before they started telling what had transpired. Jessie filled them in about her mind battle with the Linen Man and together they told them about their mother who had appeared from the Rip. It was a heart-wrenching story. Mary-Belle’s eyes filled with tears that she didn’t want to let fall in front of the others but the story and the expression on the sisters’ faces made it hard. She admired them even more now. Having to make such a decision wasn’t an easy weight to bear and then having to live with it.

Soon after everyone filled the others in on what they had experienced the groups dispersed. Mary-Belle took that as her cue. There was just one more thing she needed to do before she left them. She walked over to Leo and Beatrice, hesitant to interrupt their conversation but doing it anyways to get it over with. “Excuse me,” she butted in, “Leo, can I talk with you outside for a moment?” His gaze fluttered over to Beatrice who agreed silently before the both of them climbed out of the cellar and onto the street that had already gone back to some sort of normalcy. People were bustling around, going after their business, others were in charge of picking up the dead bodies and cleaning up after them.

They came to stop a short way away from the cellar when Mary-Belle turned to face him. “What are you going to do now, Leo? Are you going to return to the palace? What is your plan?”

“I… would like to stay here. These are my friends and I belong here, not in the palace,” he announced.

She nodded, a sad smile on her face. “I understand, but I’m certain the Queen will have people looking for you when she notices that you are missing. You can’t stay away from your responsibilities forever.”

He let out a desperate sigh. “I know, but… I want to enjoy this time for as long as I can.” She nodded and squeezed his arm briefly before she watched him descend into the cellar again to live this life for a bit longer.

She turned to walk away, home, back to a life so unlike the one Leo chose to live, but she didn’t get very far before she was stopped by a hand hesitantly reaching out to her. Jessica stood there. She quickly retrieved her arm after gaining Mary-Belle’s attention. “We were actually going to get fish and chips later. You, um, you should eat with us. After all, you’ve helped us.”

“I didn’t really do anything actually. I was probably just in the way most of the time, but thank you. You guys should enjoy your evening by yourselves.”

She wanted to walk away again, but Jessica spoke up once more to stop her. “That’s not true! If anything, you got Billy out of jail! The others told me. You didn’t have to do that. You barely know us, but you did! Please, I would really like it if you would eat with us.”

In the end, Jessica had convinced Mary-Belle and when they were all sitting together that evening eating fish and chips she felt content and happy. Looking around at their smiling and laughing faces she could understand how Leo found his family in this group of people.

She caught the expression on Billy’s face when Leo and Beatrice walked past him to get up to the street. It was a sour one, full of jealousy. So, she walked over and sat down next to him. “You’re in love with her, aren’t you?”, she noticed quietly, following their retreating figures with her eyes until they disappeared outside and closed the door behind them.

Billy’s head whipped around to eye her suspiciously. “What would you know about it?”, he asked.

“Well.” She let out a sigh. “I’m in love with him,” she revealed, “so, I guess we’re in the same boat.” The two of them shared a mutual understanding that the people they loved, loved them too, but not in the same way.

“Should we do something about it, then?”, Billy asked, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“What are you thinking of?”, Mary-Belle asked with a smile, before Billy grabbed her face and pulled her close. His lips hovered over hers for a moment, enough time for her to pull away if she wanted too, and then he kissed her. A gasp sounded which pulled the two apart. As they looked over to the source of the sound, they found Spike staring at them, his hand dramatically on his chest which made them all laugh. Billy threw a chip at Spike to get him to stop with his antics. He had a carefree smile on his face again. Even as he looked over at Mary-Belle, which he used to do with such a dark gaze, it didn’t falter and maybe, she thought, she could find her place here as well.

#the irregulars #billy x oc #billy x female!oc #bea x leopold #unrequited love #leopold x female!oc #leopold x oc #angst #billy chisup #oneshot #fanfiction #fanfic #one shot

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mylordshesacactus · 4 years

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1, 3, 15 and 23 for the askmeme?

What themes would you like to write about that you feel don’t get explored very often?

Hmm. See, I feel like it’s fairly self-evident from my writing what themes I care about and want to explore, and since 99% of that writing is already embarrassingly niche, it goes without saying that I don’t think those themes get enough love XD

Found family is, thankfully, a very popular trope. The slightly more niche themes that I enjoy exploring are...hmm. How to phrase this.

The (inherent eroticism of the) loyal lieutenant trope; that not only is it okay to not want to lead, but that people can want to be a natural second-in-command without feeling resentful or having that itch of ambition. That being the loyal, quiet support and standing back and watching someone you trust implicitly lead can be what you aspired to in the first place.

The idea of kindness and respect being about what the other person needs to feel safe, not what feels right to do.

The bright, dramatic, larger-than-life fantasy realm is primarily populated by ordinary people. This does not have to be a “deconstruction” or “commentary” on fantasy tropes or on the larger-than-life canon characters; they can and should coexist, because they’re part of the same world.

Asskicking =/= authority. Authority =/= leadership. Leadership in its purest form is soft-spoken and sure, with nothing to prove and no need to posture. Authority only requires certainty that the people under your command can be trusted to do their jobs. Leadership requires certainty that the people under your command can be trusted, fully and completely.

Animals Don’t Work Like That, Actually

Canine Body Language Is Completely Different From That, Actually, You’re Thinking Of Cats.

Loyalty requires you to challenge the people you love outright. Anyone worthy of real loyalty might be angry at first, but will ultimately trust you more as a result.

True love means trusting one another to do the right thing, and knowing for a fact that the other person will not betray their greater responsibilities for your sake no matter how much it hurts them. Anything less is not love; it’s selfish obsession.

What loves do you tend to write about?

Oops I kind of gave that one away with #1 huh. Well, a quick summary then: Agape, philia, storge, pragma, are going to feature most heavily.

Which isn’t to say there’s less of eros. And if you’ve read my smut you know I LOVE playfulness in sex and romantic relationships; all intense passion is exhausting, you should be able to laugh together, and honestly it’s healthy to still have the hallmarks of ludus show up sometimes. Especially when my faves have such fucking awful lives, letting them just kind of...be grinning, giggly young women who like each other a lot is nice.

Mania (as in, the term for obsessive love in the Greek tradition and not like, the psychological condition) is such an intensely terrifying and deeply unpleasant force--writing it makes me feel so dirty--that it doesn’t show up very often if at all. It’s always an antagonist, if it does, because it’s so incompatible with love.

And all my fanfic faves are like no philautia we hate ourselves like wlws.

What physical quirks do your characters tend to have?

Oooo, I LIKE this one.

This is pretty clearly OCs, since with fanfic characters I at least TRY to just accurately recreate what their physical quirks onscreen seem to be. So, my OCs...

One linguistic quirk that I like to give to OCs is an oddly specific one--you can get a LOT of characterization into a small package by creating characters who are extremely laconic--writing their dialogue by trying to get across their idea in as few words as you possibly can, and using body language for the rest. The most recent version of this is my WoW character Talet, who I actually write as mostly nonverbal. In her case, this is the result of long-term isolation and partially due to trauma; she can and does speak, but she communicates mostly through lupine nonverbal signals to the point where her ward (officially her “apprentice” but in practice, her adopted daughter) openly describes herself as Talet’s “translator”.

I also have a weakness for characters with extremely still body language; not necessarily stiff or tense, just....still. No fidgeting or wasted movement. And for characters who can be described as soft-spoken--often as surprisingly soft-spoken, like my blunt and impolite mule handler with a low, rough voice...who has a completely contradictory tone, very gentle, very calm. Only with her beasts, of course. Or trauma victims. Or children. Or--

Do you prefer reading series or standalone novels and does that reflect on how you write?

Oh that’s also a good one. I like both! Honestly, SHOCKING information from a fanfic author--I love stories that set up a unique and interesting universe with like...rules? Especially when that universe feels bigger than the one story we get to see in it.

And I’m a sucker for the IDEA of spinoffs, I’d normally adore big sprawling universes that allow for lots of stories to be told in the same basic world. It’s a shame that expanded universes get so bloated and that the writing gets so bad--and I think a major failing of that format is that they so quickly lose sight of the POINT of an expanded universe and try to make every goddamn thing interconnected. The whole POINT is that you can just....read or watch the stories that appeal to you, and while knowing other stories might enrich that experience not knowing them doesn’t detract from it.

(Discworld. The perfect model for how to do this is Discworld. Not interested in the Watch? Cool, here’s a pile of books about other characters. Not interested in Granny Weatherwax? Cool, have fun being wrong but also have fun reading all these witch-free books while doing it. Not interested in Death? Tough shit and have I got news for you about the degree to which not being interested in Death affects its presence in your life, but you don’t have to read books ABOUT Death.)

However, I do have a firm policy about series, and ESPECIALLY about the first book in a series: Cliffhangers are cheating, and they’re weak writing, and they’re only allowed if they’re setting up the actual finale.

(It’s a mark in Rise Of Kyoshi’s favor that I didn’t....entirely....mind the cliffhanger because the rest of the book was so good. And since the Kyoshi novels are a duology, it’s TECHNICALLY allowable)

You CANNOT use a cliffhanger at the end of your first book. That’s a horrible sign in the author’s faith in their own story. If this is your FIRST IMPRESSION, and you don’t think the story you told is good enough, you don’t think your world and your characters are compelling enough, to get me to come back without straight up leaving the story unfinished in order to make me come back if I want to find out basic information?

Cool. You’re probably right. I don’t care anymore.

Your first installment HAS to stand on its own. The penultimate book can end on a cliffhanger if you really must, because at that stage in the plot it’s normal to assume there’s lots of things happening quickly, and it feels like less of a cheap trick; if I got four books into a five-book series, or two-thirds of the way through a trilogy, I was probably already planning to come back for the finale. But the first installment has to tell its own story, whole and entire, or I’m probably not gonna care enough to stick around.

Open endings are not the same as cliffhangers. Open endings are great.

So, yeah. A well-written standalone novel and a well-written series are basically the same, and the initial book in a series at least should also serve as a well-written standalone novel in the first place!

#askmeme #natsu-tigre

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ladyfogg · 4 years

Text

May I? - 17/?

Fic Summary: Ensign Faith Diaz struggles to hide her mental illness from her fellow shipmates aboard the Enterprise until an intrigued Data goes out of his way to try to understand her behavior. At his insistence, Faith tries to figure out what she’s truly passionate about and eventually seeks the professional help she needs. Fic Masterpost.

Fic Rating: NC-17

Pairing: Data/Female OC

Warnings: tw: depression, tw: anxiety, fluff, friends to lovers, eventual smut

Screenshot by @ geekygwen

The hours Data and Faith were separated were filled with endless calculations and theories on how to reach her.

Data did not know how he would orchestrate his and Faith's escape. He had yet to gather sufficient information on the vessel which they traveled. Fajo was careful with his words and actions, not revealing or doing too much to give Data an opening to rebel.

When he saw Fajo attack Faith, he had attempted to break the door down without success. Right then and there, he vowed to do whatever he needed to get them home. He only hoped Faith would be more cautious with her own personal safety.

As such, he played along with Fajo's wishes. He wore the clothes, he sat in the chair, and currently, he entertained his guests.

Faith sat by his side, body stiff with tension. Data felt more comfortable having her by his side rather than locked away. He also now knew the location of her room which was not far from his.

He only agreed to the dinner on the stipulation that he be allowed to see Faith first. Fajo begrudgingly agreed and Data suspected it was because Faith was being so difficult.

The dress Fajo made her wear was obscene. Though Data did feel it accentuated her body in an aesthetically pleasing way. Faith clearly did not feel the same way. She shifted in her seat, reaching up to subtly adjust the front of the dress to hide as much of her breasts as she could.

He reached over to lay a comforting hand on hers. Faith gave him a soft smile before squeezing his hand back.

Fajo was in the process of telling his friends all about his time in prison and subsequent release. Kornok and Dulcer listened excitedly. Enil kept his eyes on Faith, much to Data's dismay.

There was something in his expression that he did not trust. He could tell Enil made Faith uncomfortable by the way she avoided eye contact with him. Not to mention his question about their intimacy was inappropriate.

Eventually, talk turned back to Data himself.

“Tell us about yourself, android,” Kornok said, leaning his elbows on the table.

“I created by Dr. Noonian Soong and was built with an ultimate storage capacity of eight hundred quadrillion Bits and a total linear computational speed rated at sixty trillion operations per second. However—"

“Bah, none of that technical stuff,” Kornock interrupted. “I mean tell me about you.”

“Well, I am a Starfleet officer who has achieved the rank of Lieutenant Commander. I am Second Officer of the Enterprise and have received numerous accolades.”

“Is that all you do? Work?” Dulcer asked.

“No,” Data answered. “I also paint and play the violin and guitar. I often enjoy reading and various other recreational activities.”

“Fascinating!” Kornok exclaimed. “If it weren't for his skin and eyes he could pass as human.”

“The detail is fantastic, isn't it?” Fajo beamed proudly.

As they continued their back and forth, two of the Oz'ods came from the kitchen pushing trays of food. Faith leaned over to quietly whisper, "The one on the left is Soshi. They bring me meals."

"Mala is the other," Data responded, equally quiet. "They are Fajo's personal aid."

"Slave is more like it."

"What are you two whispering about?" Fajo asked, drawing everyone's attention to Data and Faith.

"Data was complimenting my dress," Faith lied smoothly.

Data doubted Fajo believed her but his guests found it entertaining.

"How sweet," Kornok said. "Tell me, android, is romance built into your programming?"

"Many aspects of human life were not initially included in my program," Data explained. "However, I can create programs as I see fit. For example, I have spent a significant amount of time building a romance program, as well as a subprogram specifically for Faith."

"He can adapt, how delightful!" Dulcer exclaimed. She turned her attention to Faith. "You must feel very special to have a mate who can perfectly match your desires and expectations."

"I do," she said, though her smile did not convince Data. He was not sure why but Faith seemed uncomfortable with Dulcer's statement.

It intrigued him. They had not discussed the logistics of their relationship and Data theorized that may be a contributing factor.

"Mr. Data does seem particularly attached to Faith considering his lack of emotions," Fajo said with a hint of annoyance in his voice. "Though I doubt he'd really truly miss her if she were gone."

There was an underlying threat with his words. Faith's hand gripped Data's tightly. The Oz'ods served the guests. Data's eyes remained on Fajo.

"That is incorrect," he stated. "As I establish friendships, my positronic brain develops connections to thoughts of those individuals. If that person were to leave, I will experience a sense of loss. In essence, I will miss them."

"Fascinating," Enil muttered, unmoving even when food is placed in front of him. "So your mate is not a simple plaything? An outlet for your curiosity?"

"No, she is not."

Data did not appreciate Enil's insinuation, nor the way he constantly eyed Faith.

"Enil, stop being rude," Kornok scolded his companion. "I must apologize for my fellow delegate. He has an affinity for human females."

"Personally, I don't see the appeal," Fajo said flippantly as he ate his dinner. "But if Data must have her around, I am happy to oblige."

Data glanced at Faith, noting the darkening of her cheeks and the way she became entirely too invested in her food. Their dismissal of her was misogynistic and insulting to her accomplishments.

"Faith is a decorated Starfleet officer," he said. "She recently made Lieutenant and is Engineering's second-in-command. Her intelligence is vastly superior to her peers and she has a keenly trained eye for details. She has a lot to offer as a mate and a friend."

"Was a decorated Starfleet officer," Fajo corrected. "She and Mr. Data live with me now."

"That does not change her accomplishments."

"It seems the android does not enjoy your insults," Dulcer said to the men. "And he is not the only one. Let us discuss something other than the woman."

Faith relaxed her grip on his hand. While she gave him an appreciative smile, he could tell the conversation had affected her greatly.

Unfortunately, dinner stretched on for hours. Course after course was brought out. Faith ate very little, though Data knew she was likely hungry. Soshi seemed to notice as well and tried to provide her with larger portions. It did not help.

Throughout the evening Data answered any and all questions the delegates posed to him. Very little was asked of Faith but he suspected she was grateful. Even he found their questions tedious to a point.

Eventually, the food was removed and by then the novelty of Data and Faith seemed to wear off the guests. Talk turned to matters of business, which Data found intriguing. Any business Fajo was involved in could only be illegal and dangerous.

Unfortunately, once the subject changed, Fajo waved his hand at the couple. "You may be excused," he said. "Mala, escort them to their quarters."

Data suspected Fajo did not wish for Faith and Data to overhear what he and the delegates were really meeting to discuss.

Mala bowed and waited patiently for Data and Faith to stand and follow.

“It was a pleasure to meet you,” Data said with a dutiful bow. “If you'll excuse us…”

“Nice to meet you too,” Kornok said with a wave. “Really, the manners, the movements...stunning!

“Very well done,” Dulcer agreed.

Enil sneered. “Very.”

Data kept his hand on Faith's lower back, making eye contact with Enil as they left. The man still watched Faith like a hawk.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Faith let out a noise of frustration. "Stars that was insulting! Who the hell do they think they are?!" She was shaking with anger, her hands balled into fists.

"I will admit their comments were inappropriate and out of line."

"Thank you for sticking up for me," Faith said. "I knew I had to ignore them but I'm grateful you didn't."

"I cannot. It is in my programming, remember?"

Faith smiled and wrapped her arm around his, hugging it tightly. "Yeah, I remember."

They reached her quarters first and Data turned to Mala. "May we have a few minutes alone before I must be escorted to my room?"

The Oz'od seemed hesitant. "Mr. Fajo no like Mala delay."

"You have my word it will not take long," Data assured them. "I would like to say a proper goodnight and do not know when we will see each other next."

Mala conceded with a nod, opening Faith's door for them. "No take long."

Once they were alone, Faith threw herself at him, yanking him down into a fiery kiss. Data matched her energy or at least tried to, wrapping his arms around her. The dress was soft but he found himself longing to touch her skin instead.

She drew away with a shaky breath. "I hate the idea of being separated again."

"I do not find it satisfactory either," Data agreed. His hand suddenly slid over something hard tucked into the back of her dress. "What is this?"

Sheepishly, Faith reached into her dress, pulling out a dinner knife. "I swiped this when no one was looking," she admitted. "I don't have a phaser so I needed some kind of weapon.”

Data was surprised and impressed. Even with his keen eyes, he hadn't noticed her theft.

"That was very risky. If Fajo had caught you, it would not have gone well."

"I know but I had to try. You have your strength and mind to protect you. I don't have anything."

Data studied her carefully, noticing the fear in her eyes. "I understand. I only ask that you be careful."

"I will. Trust me, I'm not going to attack him. But having something with me helps the anxiety."

She left his arms to slide the knife under her pillow. After, she sighed heavily and sat on the bed. Data joined her, putting his arm around her shoulders.

“Would you like to know what I have learned so far?” he asked.

“Yes, please.”

“I believe we are on the ship that attacked the Enterprise. It is constructed from the same materials. That will work to our advantage as Starfleet has already been made aware of its existence. There will be people looking for the ship. The doors can only be operated by Fajo and the Oz’ods.”

“Also Fajo has a phaser that hurts like a bitch.”

Data reached out to touch her injured hip. “Are you in pain?”

“A little. These damn shoes didn't help.” She kicked out of her heels. “God I hate this dress.” She looked around and spotted a pair of pants and a shirt folded neatly at the edge of the bed. They must have been delivered while they were at dinner.

Data watched her stand, wiggling out of the purple dress to slip on more comfortable clothes. Considering her anxiety, he was surprised she had no apparent qualms about undressing in front of him.

Once she was dressed, she slid onto his lap. She looped her arms around his neck and hugged him.

Data held her close. “We will escape this place.”

“I think the Oz’ods might be our best bet with that.”

“How so?”

“Soshi all but told me they're prisoners. They're only helping Fajo for protection. They don't think they can survive without him. But if we make them see that they can, maybe they can help us.”

“That is a solid foundation to build upon,” Data said. “I will try to speak to Mala. As of yet, they have been reluctant to answer questions but with this information, I will adjust my approach.”

He suddenly remembered her reaction to Dulcer’s comment at dinner. “Faith, why did you react negatively when Dulcer mentioned my programming adjusting to your needs?”

It took her a moment to recall what he was referring to. “Oh, that. I don't know, I just didn't like the way she said it. There was insinuation there that didn't sit right with me.”

“To what insinuation are you referring?”

“To me, it almost felt like she was saying I was lucky to have someone cater to my desires and expectations. Almost as if I don't have to put any work into our relationship. I don't know. Maybe I was reading too much into it.”

“And that thought insulted you?”

“Yes, of course it did. When you're with someone, both partners should be willing to adapt to each other. It's not fair if only one person has to change to fit the other's needs.”

This made Data curious. “Are there aspects of my personality that you need to adjust to?”

Faith seemed to hesitate before answering. “Yes,” she eventually said. “But not in a negative way by any means. I just have to remember that there's a learning curve between us and that you're still learning about human interaction in general.”

“If I have done anything to make you frustrated or upset, I do apologize.”

Faith leaned in and kissed him. It was gentle and meant to comfort. “You have nothing to apologize for,” she said, nuzzling his cheek. “You've done nothing wrong, okay?”

Her expression was earnest and sincere. Data nodded. “Okay.”

As much as he wanted to stay, he knew he needed to get back to his room before Fajo finished with his friends.

“I must leave you now,” he said. “I will do everything in my power to see you again soon.”

Faith whimpered and gave him another hug, which he returned. Data found it difficult to pull away. In fact, the hug lasted twenty-three more seconds than the average hug between them.

Once they parted, he kissed her goodbye and stood. Before he reached the door, he turned back. She sat on the edge of the bed, arms wrapped around her trembling frame.

“Please remember to eat,” he said.

She gave him a small smile. “I will.”

Data left, meeting an anxious Mala in the hall. The Oz’od hurriedly brought him to his room. Despite Data’s cooperation, it was still sparse. Fajo did not seem to trust the android enough to allow him anything more than the decorative chair to sit upon.

Before Mala closed the door, Data turned to them.

“Please help Soshi take care of Faith,” he said. “She is special to me and I do not wish for Fajo to harm her.”

“Fajo no harm Faith so long as Faith listen,” Mala said.

“May I ask you something?”

“What?”

“Your friend who infiltrated the Enterprise, how did you intend to bring him back home?”

Mala pursed their thin lips but remained silent.

“Ah. I see. You did not intend to.”

“Toka died for Oz’od safety. Will be remembered.” Mala made a move to close the door.

Data cocked his head in confusion. “Toka is not dead.”

Mala froze, eyes meeting his. “You lie!”

“I am not lying,” Data said. “The Enterprise captured Toka but they are still very much alive. We would not kill a new life form without provocation.”

“Fajo said Toka dead,” Mala said in a soft voice.

“I believe it is Fajo who lied to you,” Data said. “Once Faith and I get back to our companions, I would be more than happy to reunite you with him.”

“Lies! Fajo said you lie to trick Mala!” With that, they slammed their hand on the panel and the doors shut, leaving Data alone once more.

He had suspected convincing Mala would be difficult. He only hoped he had been able to plant the seed of doubt.

With nothing else to do, Data sat in his chair and waited for Fajo. He knew the man would seek him out after the meal. He only hoped he performed well enough to his captor’s satisfaction.

It was two hours and fifty minutes later when Fajo strolled in. He seemed to be in good spirits, which Data took as a good sign.

“That went spectacularly,” Fajo said with a large grin. “See? It's not so bad doing what I say, is it?”

“I did not appreciate Delegate Enil’s interest in Faith. His comments were inappropriate.”

“Is that a hint of jealousy I detect?”

“I cannot feel jealousy.”

Fajo waved dismissively. “So you say. Don't worry about Enil. He's harmless. Well, mostly harmless. You and your little girlfriend certainly made an impression. I thank you for the delightful dinner.”

“What do you plan to do next?”

“Well, we have to keep moving, obviously,” he said. “Thankfully this ship has a spectacular cloaking device. One of a kind and built by the Oz’ods themselves. There are a few items of mine that I would like to get back. I expect you to help me with them.”

“And Faith? She will still remain safe, correct?”

Fajo snorted with disgust. “Ugh, Faith, Faith, Faith. That's all you talk about! I have half a mind to sell her to Enil and be done with it.” He glanced at Data with a smirk. “Thankfully, she's worth more to me right where she is.”

“I have made it clear I will listen to you so long as she's safe,” Data said. “You do not need to keep threatening her safety.”

“But it's so fun. Every time, I swear I'm going to get a reaction out of you.”

“Do you wish to elicit an emotional response from me? You know I do not have them.”

“You say that but I theorize that you must. In some capacity,” Fajo said. “You just need the right push. No matter. We have plenty of time to test my theory. In the meantime, enjoy your room. I'll be by tomorrow to discuss a job I'd like you to do.”

He turned to leave but then paused and spun back around on his heel.

“One more thing,” he said. “I am a reasonable man. If you continue to perform so spectacularly, I may consider allowing you and your little pet to share a room together. Keep that in mind.”

Data was surprised by the thought, though he did not trust Fajo’s charity. Still, planning their escape would be easier with Faith by his side.

“I will do my best,” he said.

Fajo smiled brightly. “I know you will. Sleep tight!” He chuckled at his own joke as he left.

#commander data #lt commander data #Data Soong #data tng #star trek next generation

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carewyncromwell · 4 years

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18, 27 and 35 for the OC ask :D

18. What are your OC’s greatest fears? Weaknesses? Strengths?

OOC: Carewyn at her heart is scared of being helpless or hurt and thus loves a certain level of control over whatever situation she finds herself in -- so her greatest fear, in an abstract sense, is something so dangerous and threatening that she would have no chance of overpowering, outsmarting, appealing to, rationalizing with, or escaping it. Boggart-wise, that’s expressed as Voldemort, who sort of ticks all those boxes.

Carewyn’s weaknesses -- gosh, let’s organize this...

Does not trust other people with her problems, flaws, insecurities, or feelings. AT ALL. She is very happy to help other people with their problems and comfort and counsel them, but she just cannot open herself up the same way, thanks to the trauma her brother’s disappearance caused. She would rather shut her friends out completely than let them see her at her worst. Despite Carewyn’s outward appearance of confidence and paragon virtue, she’s actually very difficult to get to know well.

Puts on a strong face rather than admit there’s a problem. This is kind of attached to the first bullet, but it can also mean she’ll try to bury any pain she feels and soldier through if it means sparing her friends’ feelings or reaching a higher goal.

Has way too high of standards, especially for herself. She’s never satisfied with anything she does, so although she puts on a pretty face, she secretly struggles with deep self-loathing and will often push herself past the point of reason. This can make her very judgmental of other people too sometimes -- if she sees you in a negative light, like that you’re vain, cruel, selfish, or stupid, it can be hard to change her mind or prove that you’ve changed for the better.

Overly sensitive. She’s been forced to toughen herself up on the outside, so she isn’t as prone to cry or lash out angrily like she might’ve when she was a little girl, but that sensitivity can still get her in trouble, as rather than expressing any hurt she feels openly, she cloisters it away, which can make it fester and then express itself as passive-aggressiveness or cold resentment. This is also the reason why Occlumency is harder for Carewyn than Legilimency.

Overly serious. This is attached to the above bullet point -- she doesn’t enjoy most pranks or practical jokes because she gets focused on the pain and embarrassment it could cause someone else, projects her own experience with bullying onto the person, and thus takes the situation too seriously. Just because she’s toughened herself up on the outside doesn’t mean she doesn’t still project her sensitive emotions onto everyone else.

Surprisingly ruthless when backed into a corner. If Carewyn is terrified for her life or her emotions are very raw and painful, she’ll ditch any wit or subtlety and she can bite back really hard. She always regrets it afterwards when she gets her head back.

Fortunately Carewyn has some nice strengths too!

Has a very strong personal moral compass. Even though she can often be a victim of her own pride and stubbornness, she legitimately wants to be great, and she’s decided the best way to do that is to be someone who can help others. Although her wish to be a great witch who helps people is self-focused in a way, because helping people makes Carewyn feel happy and better about herself, it’s undeniably a noble wish all the same.

Empathetic. Partially thanks to her great sensitivity and partially thanks to her latent Legilimency potential, Carewyn has never had trouble putting herself in someone else’s shoes, so she can be incredibly accepting and compassionate to those different from her.

Maternal. Because of her insight and compassion for others, she will look after her friends when they neglect their own physical or emotional well-being, whether by making sure they eat and sleep more, giving advice, or encouraging their personal ambitions.

Clever. Carewyn isn’t as academically brilliant as her brother, but she’s got great interpersonal intelligence, making it relatively easy for her to predict other people’s behavior. That being said, she’s not half bad at magic either!

Organized. Carewyn has a talent for seeing the big picture, analyzing potential assets or liabilities, and looking ahead toward the future with a plan, which makes her an ideal choice to organize any sort of project or movement.

Brave. No matter how scared or full of self-doubt she may be in any given situation, Carewyn is no pushover and she will stand up for those who can’t stand up for themselves.

27. What kind of childhood did your character have?

[Carewyn shrugs.]

“It was all right.”

School wasn’t so fun -- but at least Bobbie and his gang backed off and stopped calling me “Gingersnap” after Jacob broke Bobbie’s nose...

“It was a little hard for Mum, Jacob, and me to afford things sometimes after Dad left, but we managed all right. Hogwarts’s student fund helped a bit with Jacob’s school supplies, so we could get them second-hand a bit easier. We had to get a lot of my stuff second-hand too, but...well, it wasn’t so awful. Mum was able to find me some pretty dresses at the thrift stores and flea markets around town.”

The kids at school loved mumbling and laughing about me wearing the same dress three times a week, but they were still pretty -- did it really matter, that I didn’t have more of them?

“Then of course Jacob would tell me all about Hogwarts whenever he came home during spring, summer, and winter break.”

I always missed Jacob so much when he went away...

“And when Jacob was at school and Mum and I had time at home together, she’d teach me all about the Wizarding World. So even when things did get tough, I knew I had something great to look forward to.”

35. How is your character’s imagination? Daydreaming a lot? Worried most of the time? Living in memories?

Do I ever stop dreaming -- dreaming of what would’ve been, if things were the way they should...dreaming of everything I could’ve done -- should’ve done better?

“(lightly) I suppose I have a pretty good imagination -- it really helps me get into whatever music I’m singing along to, if I can imagine someone behind the words. I like picturing the imagery in my head when I’m reading Talbott’s poems, too.”

OC Ask! or Send Carewyn an Owl!

#ask carewyn #carewyn cromwell #lane cromwell #jacob cromwell #ooc #about carewyn #roleplaying

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ravenqueen89 · 5 years

Text

Words like arrows, chapter 1

The next Patreon offering is for @lightfiends, who gave me the gift of writing her wonderful OC Kilastra Trevelyan. This is also my first time ever writing Solas! Many new horizons this month. Thank you again for the opportunity!

Title: Words like arrows (Chapter 1)

Fandom: Dragon Age Inquisition

Pairing: Solas’ POV leading into eventual Kilastra/Solas with endgame Kilastra/Cullen.

Rating: PG

Summary: At times, something interesting flashes across her face, glimmers of expression that are almost intriguing. They appear most frequently after Kilastra has closed a rift, her magic singing so loudly in the wake of battle and that electric green reflected in her eyes. There is something other about her in those moments, something that defies the dullness of her humanity, but it is always gone by the time he can study it properly.

Notes: a word of warning that Solas is not being very endearing (extreme cockiness, internalised racism, etc) in this chapter - this is all written from his perspective. The usual rambliness of stream of consciousness applies! Oh, and I am also in love with Kilastra now, oops. Some liberties taken with how magic and the mark work. Thank you to my handholders, and a special thank you to @allisondraste for writing this amazing guide on writing Solas. Absolutely indispensable!

Word count: 1428

now on ao3

When they bring the prisoner in, there is nothing remarkable about her. She is unconscious and shivering, the mark on her hand bursting in flashes of green, like the power she’s stolen is rebelling against her. Solas knows that she will not survive, so he spares her very little thought until he hears the hum of her magic change, her breathing easing as the mark grows quiet. She is no one, but the power drawn across her hand accepts her. For now, she must survive. For now, he must ensure it.

Solas watches Kilastra Trevelyan stumbling through the motions during her first weeks in Haven and continues to find little of note. She wears a Dalish braid in her hair; she is the offspring of nobility, cast out of a comfortable life and into the limitations of a Circle; she is a strong mage, for a human, but nothing extraordinary. Solas sees nothing that explains her survival, and even less that explains why she is able to wield the mark.

He watches her, and all he sees is a young and naive human who doesn’t even have the courtesy to be aware of what she’s done. He watches her, and all he sees is the Dalish braid. Solas had overheard the story of this Trevelyan girl travelling with a Dalish clan for some months and had remained less than impressed. That, at least, is par for the course: the Dalish have always been attracted by insignificant things.

He watches the worry on her face when she is speaking to the Seeker and the limitation of her perspective would be amusing if it were not so very irritating. None of them understand what is at stake while he is forced to be a spectator to their ineptitude. He watches, but when she looks towards him, Solas averts his gaze.

At times, something interesting flashes across her face, glimmers of expression that are almost intriguing. They appear most frequently after Kilastra has closed a rift, her magic singing so loudly in the wake of battle and that electric green reflected in her eyes. There is something other about her in those moments, something that defies the dullness of her humanity, but it is always gone by the time he can study it properly.

To his mild surprise, Kilastra had been more than willing to set out into the Hinterlands to search for the artifact he wishes to study. They have been travelling for days now and she is still keenly excited at the prospect, talking to Solas about how such things interact with the Veil. To his moderate surprise, he does not tire of her enthusiasm on the matter.

The Seeker and the dwarf are also accompanying them, but they keep their thoughts to themselves. Solas knows everything about them that he wishes to know because they are easy to know. Kilastra, however, defies his understanding and it makes him feel uncertain. It is not a feeling he enjoys.

When Kilastra gets into a heated discussion with the Seeker on the subject of Circles, Solas sees another intriguing expression cross her face, something that hints at an unwillingness to kneel, at a defiance of rules. It is a spark that he would almost like to see light up, but his interest in it fades away like the embers of the discussion. There is silence in the camp that night, and he seems to be the only one not to mind it.

Fog rises in the forest as they make their way back to Haven. Solas listens to the sounds of the trees and the halting footsteps of his party and wonders at the transience of it all. Finding the artifact has unsettled him and he cannot pinpoint why, but he believes it must be to do with encountering that young elf lurking outside the cave. The truth of his identity must have flickered on his face while speaking to her, and surely no one has noticed but he keeps his counsel until fog is replaced by snow where winter continues to hold court in the mountains.

Kilastra sits by him in camp that night, and he does not allow his face to show his disdain but he feels it nevertheless.

‘Herald,’ he says, and hopes she can feel exactly what he thinks of her hollow title.

‘Solas,’ she replies, tone neutrally polite. ‘Would you tell me of your explorations of the Fade?’

Her request is so far from what he expected that he turns to look at her. Firelight catches the golden tones in her hair and in her eyes, and there is a smattering of freckles across her cheeks. These are not details he has noticed before.

‘Why do you wish to know?’ he asks, knowing that it doesn’t matter. He seldom has the chance to recount his travels, but her interest is written all over her face.

‘I’ve always wanted to know more about it. I can’t control my own interaction with it, but I would love to hear what can be found there. If you’d like.’

The latter is thrown in as a courtesy and he knows it, but in this he doesn’t begrudge her tone. Solas hasn’t noticed her need for knowledge before and it seems to have been an oversight. It makes her almost interesting for longer than a moment. He tells her, but carefully chooses his words and keeps the stories as neutral as possible. She has been trained to be wary of the Fade and he needs to tread carefully, especially within earshot of the Seeker.

Kilastra does not seem wary. She asks question after question and Solas answers. By the time they stop talking, the fire has turned to embers but he can still see the glow in her eyes. For a moment, it matches his own.

In Haven, Kilastra seeks him out. Solas unravels more stories for her and finds himself preparing them well in advance of her visits. He doesn’t question it. Her interest in the Fade is one of the very few things making all this waiting bearable.

On rare occasions, he is the one seeking her out, and the way she smiles when he does is not unwelcome. They take long walks around the lake, and he tells her. She listens to his stories with the same level of rapt attention he used to get from everyone, long ago. She tells him stories of her own, noticing his lack of interest in her time spent with the Dalish and changing the subject to her time spent in the company of alchemists, which he almost finds fascinating.

Amongst the peace and quiet of the snow, Solas shows Kilastra spells that are innocent enough but that she has never seen before. He tells her that he has found this knowledge in the Fade, and she never questions it. She learns, her thirst for knowledge overlooking everything else.

Kilastra is more skilled than he has given her credit for, and it is also not an unwelcome surprise. She is a witty companion, for a human, and there is a kindness in her that he does not remember encountering in the physical world since his return. The way that kindness turns to steel when she discusses the plight of mages is also welcome. She is passionate about freedom, as well as about researching magic. She wants to understand the relation between the Fade and magic in order to better wield it. There is something there, something that almost appeals.

One day, when she has returned from an expedition to Val Royeaux that Solas did not join, he seeks her out. He has spent time procuring a selection of books for her and they had arrived in her absence. He has never been patient, and he refuses to question his motivation. He wishes for her to have them, and that is enough.

Solas hears her laughter before he sees her, but it is not what halts his steps. Kilastra is talking to the commander while watching drills, and he must have somehow said something infinitely amusing. Solas has no recollection of Kilastra having even mentioned this man’s name before in a casual context, but he is leaning very close and absentmindedly rubbing the back of his neck and Solas sees it written all over him, plain as the entire human race.

Kilastra does not see Solas as he walks away. The books remain in his cabin until they are consumed by fire, months later.

#my writing #solas x trevelyan #solas #kilastra trevelyan #thank you faith!!#patreon

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geek-patient-zero · 5 years

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Part 1, Chapter 10

Or: Do Kindred Dream of Vampire Sheep?

Blood War: Masquerade of the Red Death Trilogy Volume 1

St. Louis—March 12, 1994

McCann dreamed. . .

A solitary oil lamp flickered as a cold breeze rustled through the dimly-lit chamber. Huge black shadows, reflections of grotesque stone gargoyles dispersed throughout the room, danced across the sandstone walls. A spiraling arm covered with pictographs ran in a tightening noose around the polished red tile floor. The drawings ended at the base of a wide, raised table constructed of bronze, stone, and silver in the direct center of the hideaway.

A circle of thirteen green wax candles surrounded the table. They burned with a thin blue flame. On top of the platform were dozens of baked clay pots. Each of them contained a fluid or a mixture of fluids.

Alright, sounds like your typical wizard’s study. McCann’s apparently one of the greatest magic-users who ever lived, so this is makes sense.

Two figures standing side-by-side, their hands gripping the table, stared at the largest receptacle. Their eyes burned with fires that matched those of the candles.

The male stood well over six feet tall, with broad shoulders and narrow hips. He wore a loincloth and a pair of sandals.

Dreaming about only wearing your underwear in public’s a cliche, but wandering around in your underwear was normal in the distant past of wherever this is.

If you can’t already tell, this dream is a framing device for a flashback.

His shoulder-length hair was black as night. His face was lean and drawn, with flat nose, sharp chin, and thin lips. Too-white skin and mystic symbols of black soot drawn on his cheeks emphasized that he was no ordinary man. Or vampire.

He was a Naruto fanboy on Ash Wednesday.

He was Lameth, childe of Asshur, and the greatest Kindred sorcerer to ever walk the earth.

That too.

We were never given much of a description for Dire McCann’s features. All we’re told is that he’s really tall, has broad shoulders, and is generally “big.” Your typical superhero build, but nothing about his face or even hair color. I figured it served to make McCann more of a surrogate for the male reader who will never in real life have a beautiful English assassin french kiss him. But, nine chapters later, we’re finally given something, though McCann likely doesn’t draw on his cheeks with soot these days.

The woman at his side was equally impressive. Dressed in thin garments that fully displayed her ample charms, she was as tall as Lameth but with long, flowing blonde hair the color of the new moon. Full-breasted, with narrow waist and wide hips, she was considered by many to be the most beautiful woman, living or undead, in the Second City. Her wide eyes, knowing smile, and lush lips offered evidence that even death could not silence the passions within her.

Of course she’s hot.

Description of man: “He wore a loincloth and sandals. He had broad shoulders and narrow hips. Flat nose, thin lips. His too-white skin and facial markings emphasized something about his character.”

Description of woman: “Who cares what she wore, just know that it’s very little and framed her awesome tits. She was a perfect ten with a 40-20-40 figure. Her eyes and lips emphasized that she would blow you.”

You know what really gives away that Lameth was designed as a character first and not something the reader is supposed to feel sexually attracted to? The thin lips. Take it from a guy with thin lips, no one gives a sex appeal focused character those.

She was Anis, once princess of Ur, now childe of the third-generation vampire known as Brujah.

Remember her from a few chapters back, when McCann was wondering if she was behind everything going on around him? I told you not to giggle at her name? She’s also one of the other childer of Brujah briefly brought up in Chapter 9; the ones who were rumored to have disappeared in the east following their sire’s death and diablerie at the hands of Troile.

The two begin talking. Their dialogue is written like they know there’s an invisible audience watching them so they narrate things they already know to each other so that audience is informed about them. It’s like a crappy play.

“I worked for two centuries,” Lameth declared, “perfecting this elixir. Many were the times I thought I would never finish.”

“Those were the nights when I intervened,” murmured Anis. “Offering you the necessary courage to continue. As befits two lovers.”

Lameth laughed, a mocking sound. “The part of faithful sweetheart does not suit you well, my dear Anis. You pushed me forward not from feelings of love, but of all-consuming passion. Your motivation came from the desire to live forever, freed from the beast that lurks within all Kindred.”

“Tell me again why you’re making this elixer, Lameth, who is my lover?”

“As you know, Anis, my lover who I think is a selfish harlot, this elixir will free us from the inner beast that infects all Kindred, which is another word for vampire.”

“Yes, it will also free us from the control of our sires, mine who is Brujah, and yours who is Asshur.”

So does anyone want to talk about vampire sex again? Despite the narration saying earlier that McCann “knew” vampires had no interest in sex, here’s Anis reminding his past self how much he liked to bone.

Anis chuckled. “Why so cynical, Lameth? I don’t remember you pushing me away on those nights that I taught you that even the undead can still delight in the pleasures of physical love. You were an eager student.”

As a reminder, here’s what we’re told in Chapter 1:

“hey enjoyed pretending that passion still stirred within their perfect forms. But McCann wasn’t fooled.

Along with food and drink, vampires no longer craved sex. For them, hot blood was the ultimate high. Carnal pleasures meant little to them.

The funny thing is, you can see this as a sort of microcosm of how the subject of whether or not Kindred can have or enjoy sex got so confusing.

The writers start off by saying that vampires don’t have sex, that their now undead biology prevents it, and in any case such passion is lost to them after the embrace. A vampire might be seductive, but it’s a deception, a tactic they use to lure in prey or manipulate their pawns. Deep down, the only euphoria they need is from blood! They are predators first and foremost! They are monsters, now and forever!

Except oops, they also created all these super hot vampire chicks. And the occasional hot vampire dude, for those that swing that way. And horny players are likely to create more. And few of them can put their libidos aside and accept that these sexy vampires would be uninterested in or unable to have regular no-bloodplay sex, even with a reader-surrogate, player character, or OC. So people go looking for loopholes.

In this case, Weinberg didn’t even write any loopholes. He just wrote “vampires don’t fuck” and then later went “actually they do.” The closest we get is this chapter, where Anis is described as so sexually passionate that not even undeath could chill her out.

Back to the story. Lameth’s unphased by Anis reminding him of what a bottom he is.

“As you instructed many others,” replied Lameth, smiling. “Your lovers are legion, Anis. If I was not sure of your mortal origins, I would suspect Brujah had embraced a succubus as his childe.”

C’mon now, Lameth, don’t talk about your girlfriend/lover/friend with benefits like that. You’re part of that “legion” so it’s not like she’s somehow beneath you.

Lameth has heard rumors that Anis has been canoodling with a certain future diablerizer. Despite her free loving lifestyle, he doesn’t get what she sees in “that rebel” Troile.

One drawback about being a temptress archetype is that once people know you use seduction specifically as a manipulation tactic, it’s harder to convince others you really mean it when you say you love only them. Anis tries anyway. She and Lameth have history, after all.

Anis’s eyes narrowed, and she peered around the room as if searching for spies. “Only to you, Lameth, would I reveal the truth. For despite your accusations, I do love you. We were lovers in life and we have been lovers in undeath. The bonds between us cannot be sundered. You are the one Kindred whom I can trust.”

Luckily for her, Lameth trusts her too, at least with the secret of his elixir. From what he says, though, it’s more because blabbing the secret would get them both killed then out of love.

“If the others discovered its existence, we will both suffer the Final Death. Especially when they learn that I had barely enough ingredients for two treatments. My fate is in your hands. As you said, our fates are bound together. You can trust me with any secret, no matter how forbidden.”

I wonder how long a relationship based on mutually assured destruction would last.

Anis takes him up on his offer. She pours her heart out about wanting to be free, not only from her vampiric bloodthirst but from her sire as well. Or as she puts it:

“...free of the shackles that bind me to the one who made me this way, my sire. I, who once was a king’s daughter of the greatest city in the world, cannot bear to serve another.”

Ur was a Sumerian city-state in ancient Mesopotamia. Which would indeed make her Anis, princess of Ur. Anis of Ur. Ur Anis.

Along with whatever this elixir does, Anis plans to free herself from Brujah by killing him. Lameth, astonished, thinks it’s impossible. Brujah trusts nobody, so how could anyone get close enough to kill him?

“Wrong,” said Anis. “He trusts his first childe, his favorite. Troile.”

Lameth looked at her in amazement. “Troile worships Brujah. He treats his sire like a demigod.”

Which makes me wonder how in the hell Troile is considered a rebel.

“Even demigods can be destroyed,” said Anis, her lips curling in a satisfied smirk. “Troile may venerate his master, but he lusts for me. And passion is stronger than faith, my love. Passion obliterates reason. Troile belongs to me.”

Slowly, sensually, Anis ran her hands up beneath her breasts, cupping them in her palms. Her eyes blazed.

...Oooooookay then.

“Soon, very soon, my lover will attempt to kill Brujah. If he succeeds, I am free. If he fails, there are other Kindred to seduce. Many others.”

And if he fails and Brujah gets your name out of him, you’re fucking dead. And it was just established that Brujah only trusts Troile. If he fails and doesn’t snitch, how will those many other Kindred get close to an even more paranoid Brujah? Also, maybe this isn’t the kind of thing you should be telling a guy who you’re trying to convince you love him.

“If Troile drinks Brujah’s blood, he will become third generation.”

“I don’t care,” said Anis, laughing. “Knowing Troile, he will be so overwhelmed with guilt afterward that he will flee forever the Second City. Power means nothing to such naive idealists. It doesn’t matter. Third generation or not, my mark is upon him. Now and forever.”

Time for another lore dump from yours truly.

First, a fun little fact. Nowadays, Troile’s gender is deliberately ambiguous. Early books, the ones Weinberg used as sources, used male pronouns, but certain later books used female ones. Clanbook: Brujah Revised, released in 2000, notes this and says that there are also records that Troile either had no gender or switched genders occasionally. From what I’ve seen, most fans assume Troile was a woman. Which retroactively makes the otherwise super-hetero Anis look pretty gay here. Still a jerk for manipulating Troile’s feelings, but a bisexual jerk.

Bujah Clan vampires are known for being hot-blooded and passionate types; traits they inherited from Troile, their direct ancestor. The Brujah Antediluvian, ironically, was more like a Vulcan. Cold, emotionless, logical, or at least his idea of what “logical” means. Imagine Spock adopting a shonen hero and you’ll get the idea.

Problem was, contrary to what this story says, this all went down in the First City, not the Second, and Caine was still around, directly ruling over his childer. And Caine had forbidden the third-generation from siring more vampires, so Brujah was in trouble. Acting emotionless made him hard to read, and Troile started to suspect that Brujah was planning to “correct” his mistake and kill them. So they struck first. In other words, Troile’s diablerie of Brujah was based on one big misunderstanding. Like a Three’s Company plot, except deadlier and less infuriating.

In that situation, it’d be more appropriate to say fear, not passion, obliterated reason.

I say all that like it’s all strict canon, but a thing World of Darkness writers like to do is make certain details about the setting’s history vague. It adds some mystery to the setting, like what Tolkein did by not explaining what Tom Bombadil’s deal was. More importantly, it gives tabletop players some agency. It’s up to individual DMs to decide the exact details, and tailor their campaigns according to them. So maybe it was all a huge misunderstanding. But maybe Brujah really was planning to kill Troile, so they justifiably acted in self-defense. And maybe, just maybe, there was a third party involved who planted the idea in Troile’s head.

That said, we have a problem. There’s a difference between fan-made stories and official novels. Official novels are canon. By writing that Anis seduced Troile into killing Brujah, Robert Weinberg is saying that this is what actually happened, no room for interpretation. Not helping is that we’re not told how Anis convinced Troile to kill Brujah beyond being good enough in the sack, which you gotta admit is pretty lame. I get the feeling that if this trilogy wasn’t considered non-canon, or if anyone remembered it at all, this plot detail would have inspired many online rantfests.

As for what happened to Troile right after they diablerized Brujah, there’s not much. Caine may have cursed them with their clan’s signature temper and susceptibility to frenzy. Other than that, it seems like they stuck around the First City and was acknowledged as third-gen. Guess no one liked Brujah all that much.

Back to the story. Lameth thinks Anis is nuts, but he sympathizes with her feeling shackled by her sire.

“Asshur demands nothing from me, but I still chafe under his rule. If I could rid myself of my sire, I would.”

“Find a pawn to manipulate,” said Anis. “Remain in the background, out of sight, always. Let your agent take the risk and suffer the consequences if he fails. Whenever possible, Blood Bond your confederates before acting and make sure to command him to forget your role in the scheme.”

“You are the consummate plotter,” said Lameth admiringly.

And just like that, Anis comes up with the modus operandi Lameth will be using from here on out. This, the creation of this elixer, Anis’ plot to kill Brujah, her insistence that she loves Lameth, and all their talk about their relationship. It’s convenient all these important events between long-time lovers happened in such a short single-flashback-length time frame.

Anis pressed close to him. “You are the only one who means anything to me, Lameth. As it was in life, so it is in death. Aid me in my plans. Help me undermine the third generation. Together we can rule the world.”

This after she just got done bragging about how she was manipulating another guy into a disposable pawn. In RPG terms, Anis must have all Social Attributes maxed out to make up for absolutely fucking zero Wits.

Reaching for the container holding the elixir, Lameth filled two cups with the murky black fluid. “Drink,” he commanded. “This potion will destroy the foul hunger inside us. Drink and then we will discuss the future.”

Vampire: The Masquerade fans’ll probably guess what the potion does, but I’ll talk about it more a few chapters from now when it’s directly stated.

The flashback ends there, but after another “McCann dreamed. . .” we immediately transition to another one. This one takes place much, much later during the Middle Ages.

Two men are talking about then-recent events concerning “the Giovanni upstarts.” One man is simply called “the man in black.” As for the other:

...his swarthy features and dark clothing proclaiming him an Assamite assassin.

Another use of the word “swarthy” here to remind us that Assamites are typically Arab/Persian stereotypes. Great.

After a century of war, the other clans have made peace with the Giovannis and acknowledge them as a true clan, exactly as the man in black expected. The Assamite explains:

“They accepted the inevitable. Augustus Giovanni was recognized as a third-generation Cainite who replaced Asshur by diablerie. The Venetian’s childer were proclaimed true Kindred, with their clan taking the place of the Children of Asshur. [...] The Giovanni agreed to remain involved with Kindred affairs. They swore the Oath of Cain to stay neutral in all clan disputes. And they agreed to cease hunting the few surviving Children of Asshur.”

“Considering that they exterminated all but a handful of the childer, not a hard bargain to take, eh?” The man in black laughed.

Now let’s talk about “Asshur” and the Giovanni.

The clan that the Giovannis killed and replaced were these guys called the Cappadocians. They were lead by Cappadocius, who was unusually active for an Antediluvian in the Middle Ages, most of the others having already fucked off into torpor until it was time to wake up and start eating everyone. They were also known as the “Clan of Death” because they were scholars obsessed with death and the soul. As such, they were the most passive clan, not being ones for casual cruelty, war, or dick measuring contests against the other clans. They just wanted to do their research and philosophizing. In typical World of Darkness form, this passivity made them easy pickings for some real assholes.

The Cappadocians were experts on the act of dying, but they struggled with all the stuff involving what happens after death. To remedy this, they turned to the Giovannis, a Venetian family of merchants and traders who dabbled in necromancy even before they were embraced. Family patriarch Augustus Giovanni actually had several offers to be Embraced from several vampire elders, but the Cappadocians offered the lowest generation at four and were an easily killable wuss clan, so he went with them.

This was Cappadocius’ biggest mistake, and shortly after Augustus managed to kill and diablerize him. ‘Course, Cappadocius also trapped thousands of his own followers in an underground tunnel because his clan grew too big and they couldn’t answer his pop quiz on what value they had. And he wanted to diablerize God. The Cappadocians as a whole might have been chill, but Cappadocius himself may have been a stupid bastard.

After that the newly-sired Giovannis began to wipe out the Cappadocians, like the Tremere did with the Salubri except the Giovannis didn’t bother creating a smear campaign to justify their actions. I don’t know how long the Camarilla clans rebuked them for before selling out the Cappadocians, but it was a lot sooner than a hundred years. The Camarilla promised non-interference to the Giovannis during their genocide campaign, something “surviving” Cappadocians haven’t forgotten.

Now, why does Blood War refer to them as the Children of Asshur, and their Antediluvian by that name? Well it seems the name “Ashur”, one “S”, was used to identify several different vampires. Cappadocius was one of them, though he never used the name himself and some historians just called him that for some reason. That’s an in-universe explanation, anyway. In reality, the clanbooks for both the Cappadocians and the Giovanni weren’t released until 1997, two years after Blood War came out. I’d need a real expert on the game to confirm this, but I suspect before then both clans just served as background lore, unplayable and not that fleshed out yet. Maybe Ashur was the original name the game used for Cappadocius, but they changed it soon after.

One last thing about the Cappadocians. Their clan curse was that they had a corpse-like complexion, meaning they looked like zombies only without the open bite wounds and rotting (usually). The previous flashback taking place in the Second City means the curse was already in effect. That means Lameth, fourth-generation Cappadocian, with his superhero build and who the nymphomaniacal Anis claims to truly love, should’ve looked something like

this.

The man in black observes that the Giovanni got the peace and recognition they wanted in exchange for “a handful of promises that cost them nothing to honor.” Meaning they won’t really lose anything by being involved with the vampire community, minding their own business, and not killing the few Children of Asshur remaining. The peace agreement was completely stacked in the Giovanni’s favor. The Assamite, for whatever reason, takes it to mean the Giovanni won’t bother keeping their promises.

“They have sworn the Oath of Caine,” said the Assamite in protest. “They would not dare violate that vow.”

“I have been a member of the Kindred for more than a millennium,” said the man in black solemnly. “During that time I have witnessed the breaking of a thousand oaths, a hundred vows, a million promises. We vampires are no more noble than the seed from which we came. Mankind never honored its word. Why should the Kindred?”

In the short term, the man in black thinks the Giovanni won’t rock the boat too much, being more concerned with their necromantic pursuits than human or kindred affairs. Long term, though...

“Theirs is a watching or waiting game. But what they eventually plan for the Kindred and kine is a mystery I do not wish to think about.”

The short-sighted Assamite dismisses the idea of the Giovanni becoming a future threat, believing they’re too small in number and focused on things that surely will never matter to Kindred, like money and commerce. Rather than convince his dumbass grunt friend otherwise, the man in black changes the subject.

“No one at the parley expressed any interest in the identity of the vampire who foolishly Embraced Augustus Govanni? Or why he took the risk?” asked the man in black.

It was Cappadocius/Ashur himself. Technically. Augustus’ Embrace was unusual. One of Cappadocius’ fourth-gen childer sucked all his blood out, then fed him a vial of Cappadocius’ blood, but it was all done with the man’s knowledge and consent. But Blood War has a different answer.

The Assamite’s dismissive of this too. No one brought it up, and the man in black worried for nothing. No one cared who embraced the prick, since the fool must be dead now like the rest of the Cappadocians. The Assamite says Augustus’ sire “should have known better than to challenge the will of a necromancer.”

“Perhaps he had no choice,” said the man in black. “No choice at all.”

And Lameth, who used the man in black as his voice and ears, smiled in satisfaction.

Well now, ignoring how it goes against modern canon, this has some interesting implications. Did Lameth blood bind a random Cappadocian and force him to Embrace the treacherous Augustus, going according to Anis’ advice? Or did Lameth himself embrace Augustus, having no choice because he thought it was the only way to ensure his freedom from his sire? And is the man in black just a random Kindred servant that Lameth can somehow use like a walking camera, or is he a body Lameth is possessing like his current McCann identity?

Alright, let’s sum it all up. Anis manipulated Troile into killing her sire Brujah, altering the course of the whole bloodline, just to be free of him. Thousands of years later, Lameth would play a role in creating the Giovanni Clan and their plot to wipe out the Cappadocians to free himself of his own sire, even though he admitted Asshur never demanded anything of him. Lameth and Anis’ participation in the Jyhad show them to be power-hungry bastards that want to rule the world but don’t want to be ruled themselves, like undead Objectivists or some shit, but I also wonder if they were blood bound to their sires, slaves to their will like ghouls are to Kindred. If so, that might earn them a measure of sympathy. But not much.

McCann woke. . .

That’s it for the flashbacks. McCann’s up, it’s almost dark, and he has to get ready for his next meeting with Vargoss tonight. He’s still bothered by his dreams, which he remembers clearly. Unlike me, who forgets what he was dreaming about five seconds after waking up. Those conversations were from “many centuries” ago. Not to mention several millennia apart from each other. He finds it weird that his sleeping brain brought them both up on the same night, and is disturbed by the implication.

He suspected powers beyond his understanding were manipulating his mind. It was not a pleasant thought.

That was when he noticed a small box on the nightstand by the side of his bed.

Remember McCann’s magic security system? The one no Kindred or human could get past without him knowing it? Well it did jack shit this time. McCann checks his defenses and sees they’re intact, but the box is proof that someone broke in and placed it there.

Inside the box is all the mail that was stolen from his office, and the Baba Yaga photos from Russia.

There was no note. Nor was one needed. Resting on the photos was a single green sequin.

#vampire the masquerade #vampire: the masquerade #vtm #vtmb #world of darkness #blood war

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subserviiient · 5 years

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15 questions, 15 mutuals.

⭑ Are you named after anyone? Nah, my gran was just looking through those baby name books with my parents and aggressively went “THAT ONE” and thus my name came to be; good thing too since the other option they had was used for like 3 of my friends and I’m HORRIBLE at knowing if someone’s talking to me already.

⭑ When was the last time you cried? Last week, bitches. I almost cried last night but that’s neither here nor there and was mostly pasta based so it doesn’t count.

⭑ Do you have kids? Bro, I’m eighteen, who has the TIME?

⭑ Do you use sarcasm a lot? I’m a bit too sarcastic to the point where I use it so often people think I’m being serious. Luckily, I don’t come across as an asshole ( hopefully ) since it’s mostly used for jokes.

⭑ What’s the first thing you notice about people? I look down when I talk to people I don’t know well and just focus on what they’re saying so I notice accents/voices the most since I’m not really looking at them.

⭑ What’s your eye color? Blue.

⭑ Scary movie or happy ending?

Scary movie. I’m selective about my horror flicks but I do enjoy most of them; mostly because they don’t really scare me much- films like Final Destination and The Evil Dead usually make me laugh and when I do need a scare, I put on a stalker flick. The horror genre is so vast that there’s always something to watch- from horror comedies, to gore fests to the Disturbing genre ( although I don’t like that one ) I think it’s more branched out than a happy ending. Not to say a happy ending isn’t appealing at times, but I do prefer the other option since at times, it can surprisingly be more realistic than the whole ‘everyone is happy’ bit.

⭑ Any special talents? Nah. I’m decent at videogames, but not really impressive enough to have it count as a talent, I was one of those ‘Talented Kids’ who became ‘Not Good At Being A Person’ people.

⭑ Where were you born? A hospital. I’d rather not say what one.

⭑ What are your hobbies? Drawing, playing games, writing, making ocs, watching movies and sneaking up on my family members on accident according to them.

⭑ Do you have any pets? No :’) I will hopefully get a gecko one day.

⭑ What tattoos / piercings / body mods do you have? I have my ears pierced but I’m hoping on getting my tongue, hips and collar bones too. I’d also like to get a bunch of tattoos. The issue is: I cANNOT SIT STILL TO SAVE MY LIFE. As a kid I wanted to split my tongue but I deadass can’t do that shit.

⭑ How tall are you? ...I dunno but I’m fucking tiny.

⭑ Dream job? Nothing really comes to mind; I’m fine with anything that pays so I’m not too bothered. I just could never work in somwhere like Starbucks because one stupid comment would have my flying across the table to fight.

⭑ Favorite subject at school?

English, History and Chemistry. I was interested in chemistry mostly because our teacher was fucking wild ‘Here, blow this up and I’ll tell you a story about a guy who got his arm blown off by the same thing’ ‘:O’ ‘And on that story-’

tagged by: @feebledetective

tagging: Anyone who wants to!

#//long post #what do i tag this as

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alterlifes-a · 6 years

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tag muns you want to know better; repost - don’t reblog.

What inspired you to try/create that muse/s: well , if you’ve been with me long enough then you know that tooru started out as an AU ! o.ikawa t.ooru, where instead of attending s.eijou , he went to s.hiratorizawa ! to be honest , i kind of just wanted to try my hand at writing that kind of thing ? it was the very first time i had made a tumblr rp blog , so i had no idea that people rp different verses of the same character on one blog !! i originally rp’d on deviantart , and it was very commonplace to have different blogs for different verses ... i had over 70 rp blogs on there and most of them were literally the same 2 characters but in different AUs LMAO ... so imagine my surprise when i saw people rp’ing different AUs on one blog ... RP’ing multiple muses on one blog ... !! but i kinda just stayed with my iteration instead of playing canon ! kawa anyway , since i didn’t really see the point in starting over . as tooru developed more , though , i began to use him as a venting tool because this was a part of my life where i was really depressed . but as time grew on and i eventually made him into an OC , he became a much happier character . he really is my best friend ; he’s been there for me through it all , and even though he’s just fictional , i really owe him a lot for helping me out during rough times .

What is inspiration for that muse/s: well , currently , a lot of things ... lots of music , japanese culture + religion , and also my own experiences . in general , i have a p.interest board for him , so ... maybe you could say i draw inspiration from that , too ! i also rly enjoy the band MILI . their songs really fit tooru , like ‘ bathtub mermaid ’ . i’ve also been listening to hello , again and am planning on drawing something based on it for him ( + the song’s prequel , “ goodbye ” ) . i mainly tend to daydream while listening to songs , so ... yeah . as for characters who serve as inspiration for tooru ... well , i think that’s an artist meme , so i might just fill it in in lieu of answering this properly lol ... but two i can think of off the top of my head are leon from f.ire e.mblem e.choes and n.eferpitou from h.xh !

Thread/AU that made you really happy: B.NHA AU ... !! i’m hyperfixating sm on that one ... idk , a lot of planning and plotting goes into it , esp since a lot of my mutuals are in the fandom . in particular , i love love love the story i’ve created with @noquirk . i literally cannot envision a more perfect plot for tooru in this verse . heck , it’s literally my main go - to timeline when i draw / write for it . tooru is , quite literally , not very much in this AU without deck .

Something really special on your wishlist: sh ... more ships ... ships to draw and animate and make animatics to ... also i need to get my butt into gear and finish my JRPG AU group lol .

Something you are looking for in short future for your muse: blease tooru help me get thru the school year ... also i have some animatics in the back burner so i’m looking forward to getting those done !

Share something related to your muse!: his canon story , in parallel motion , deals with existentialism and alternate universes . ultimately , it’s a story that serves as a physical manifestation of my own struggle with depression , and while it’s sombre in tone , i want it to tell whoever’s reading it , “ you matter . ” it’s why tooru is placed into so many marginalized groups ; he’s fat and trans and biracial and bi and suffers from bpd + depression + anxiety but he’s a good person through it all ... his story is tragic because he’s not allowed to exist and will be forgotten when he dies , but his existence impacts so many other characters’ lives ... it’s a butterfly effect kind of thing . because you exist , you’ve made so many peoples’ lives better . and i understand it’s rough and i understand depression + sucky real life aspects try to convince you otherwise , but just ... think about it . there’s an alternate universe where , because you don’t exist , something huge was probably impacted . and even on a smaller , more intimate scale --- if you hadn’t existed in another life , then one of your friends might not be here . they might not be as happy as they are now , because you make them happy . life can be awful . but it’s wonderful and beautiful , too . that’s what i want tooru to be to others . someone to look up to and relate to , and someone who tells you , “ it’s okay ! ”

What do you think about character’s design/how do you came up with this: he’s ... kinda generic LOL mainly cause he’s based off of o.ikawa looks - wise due to his origin ... but part of his looks also derivate from an old ask blog muse i had :

i just really like that bangs - over - one - eye hairstyle ngl ... also i have no idea how / when his hair became maroon - brown since o.ikawa’s hair is chestnut brown , but ... yeah . also have no idea when he gained red eyes HDKJSFS,,,, i find fangs appealing on a character though , so that’s why he has fangs and does the :3c ... honestly i think i kinda just slapped together what i like in a design and put it on him , so even though he may look like an NPC ( lol ) , he’s still appealing in my eyes .

What your muse taught you: how to love being alive ... ( i’ve actually written an essay for a class about how he’s helped me through depression haha ... he means a lot to me , can you tell ? )

What is roleplay for you: all of you are awful and yet here i am anyway so really this says more about me than anything else .

Just say something nice about other mun!: @onfaith you are my ANGEL you mean sm to me and i wish u all the best with your studies / @tikkvn i love u sm cass ur an amazing person n a wonderful existence never forget that / @juuheart notay is my fave bleach chara also ur art is so cute / @wuvlite if i die all my money goes to u so u can keep drawing holy SHIZ ur art is #inspiration / @queznak ur very interesting and charismatic as a person !!! / @uzvisen idk how to spell ur url this took me 3 tries but also ilysm / @conhnhaketon i also cant spell ur url but i hope ur doing well n ur eid was good , ik we’ve both been busy but i would live for u / @quirkthief ur one of my fave ppl i will forever tag u in shibes also i’ve supported u in u saying afo was hot even when he looked ugly n now i get to watch everyone who made fun of u writhe bc he is rly rly hot hahaha / @noquirk you’re so talented pls never stop what ur doing / @aerve you’re rly cool !!! 100% support u in everything u do ! >:0 / @starbooms aries ur so creative ugh ... ur mind !!!!!! ik we don’t talk much but ur v fun / @bendsair i forget what other blogs ur on but chris ur the coolest #TalkRomania2Me / @creatied we don’t talk much either but ur graphics r so aesthetically appealing wowzers !! / @daimnas i’m wuv you amari !! also my french sucks but uhhh comment ca va ( i’m too lazy to find the accented ‘c’ dsfhi ) ?? / @soarsun i’ve only known u for a few weeks but if anything happened to u i would kill everyone on this website n then myself / @quirkgifter nanners is the coolest n nana is the best grandma in town / @natsutodoroki im so jealous u got a canon url as ur rp url LMAO but also ur rly cool n fun even tho we dont talk too frequently ! / @lechors LINNEA I WILL DIE FOR U RIGHT HERE RIGHT N--- / @ YOU READING THIS BC I’M ABOUT TO FALL ASLEEP : YOU’RE AWESOME AND GREAT !

Tagged by: stole it from @queznak Tagging: whomstever

#no formatting im heading 2 bed bye bye shkfjs #long post /#long post #meme .#what’s up —– i’m ru ‚ i’m 19 ‚ and i never h*ckin’ learned how to read . / ooc.

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bastardsunlight · 6 years

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Your multimuse* is fantastic.

Because it’s yours.

If you’re a multimuse full of canon characters and not an OC in sight, great! Nice work! You do you and enjoy yourself!

What if you’re a multimuse with exclusively original characters? That’s amazing! You’ve got such creativity to have spawned all these OC’s!

You’ve got a bunch of white muses, though… doesn’t that make you a racist? No. It absolutely doesn’t. The only thing it signifies is that those characters represent some form of interest. You might have picked them because you liked them, or because you related to them—or maybe because they were so different than your usual muse (bonus points if y’all understand that just because a muse is X-ethnicity does not make them bland OR interesting—it’s the writing behind ‘em).

You’ve got a bunch of muses of color**? Sick. That makes you a writer who enjoys writing those muses for various reasons, most likely ones that encompass more than the amount of melanin in their skin. If not, who are we to judge? Your reasons are your own and they really cannot be policed! If you chose a FC because they were pretty and they happened to be of Polynesian descent? That’s perfect. If you chose ‘em because you were specifically looking for someone of that ethnic group? Yes. Good. You go and blessings be upon your head and the heads of your pets.

Multimuse blogs that are completely female are fantastic; I know a few and they’re an absolute joy! Blogs that are all male? Also amazing. Your blog is worth what you put into it and how much it means to you! If you love your muses and you enjoy writing and portraying them however you’ve chosen, then you’re doing it properly. Maybe you’re simply not drawn to male muses or female muses… or whatever. Maybe muses that appeal to you happen to all be of this or that or some other gender!

But can a white person play a “non-white” (broad term that is somehow also too narrow) muse? Yeah, you can. I know plenty of folks who do! Can a mun of color portray a white muse? They sure as fuck can! The color of the flesh of the person writing makes little difference in the grand scheme of things. YES there are gross insensitivities out there, but is the Tumblr RPC really the place to correct social injustice? It just seems like a waste of energy to me, personally.

But again, if you want to do that? Go for it.

What about cis RPers playing trans muses and trans RPers playing cis muses? Yes yes yes yes yes and yes. Do whatever you wanna do, okay? It’s all fictional, at the end of the day and, to be perfectly honest, affects very little outside the RPC. Why not just leave folks to their own devices.

If, for example, someone is RPing a certain character in a way that upsets or offends you? Block them. You needn’t involve them in any way. You are not forced to look at their blog or their posts. I’m a huge advocate—as I’m always saying—of tailoring your own dashboard to your ideal comfort level! Do you have a right to tell them who they can and cannot play based on their race/class/gender/sexuality? Sure ya do. But see, they also have a right to block you and tell you to sit and spin… You both have a right to spread ugly rumors about each other and everyone else has a right to avoid you like the plague because you start shit. See how that works?

So before you try and police other peoples’ RP choices/styles, think two steps ahead and ask yourself if you’re honestly doing this because it needs to be done (hint: it doesn’t) or if you’re doing it to boost your ego. Consider if you’d like the same done to you! Consider the feelings of anyone but YOU before involving yourself in the business of others. It’s not about race/class/gender/sexuality; it’s about ego and humility.

Be humble and enjoy things, or be egotistical and live in tense misery.

They’re choices we make every day. Don’t stress yourself by making the wrong one.

*this also applies to single muse blogs, tho like holy shit does it ever, but I digress…

**I hesitate to use the term/phrase “POC” or “muses of color” because I genuinely believe it cheapens the value of each individual culture that the word might cover, but for our purposes, we’ll roll with it

#psa #I just love y'all

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bunnybbomb · 7 years

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Trying to Tie Loose Ends (Catharsis Continuation): Chapter 2: The First Oracle Knight

SUMMARY: With visions of his future descendants in mind, Brivere enlists Prince Sidon to help him persuade the Zora royal council to agree to an unprecedented request. The outcome of this request results in the need for a new First Knight.

(A fanfic for the Sidlink fanfic Coma Baby by @banishfics or @banishedone, a continuation of the other one I made called Catharsis)

This is a fanfiction for a fanfiction called Coma Baby by BanishedOne on AO3, and a continuation of the other one I wrote called Catharsis. If you like a grumpy Link and really well developed, deep characters and an amazing take on the political structure of the Zora Domain, then definitely check out Coma Baby! It’s a long read and still going on, but the writing and descriptions are superb and it just means more great content. This fic in particular is focused on my favorite character in the series, the OC Brivere. You don’t need to read the whole series to get what’s going on in this fic though, since a lot is explained in here.

I post memes and fics for Coma Baby on my tumblr, you can chat with me any time about anything! I also post all chapters on my AO3 account BunnyBob!

Huge thank you to my amazing beta reader Alina! Her tumblr and ff.net is @ipromiseitsnotanobsession. She actually does editing shit for a living and she is the one that makes sure these things aren’t trash, so

Disclaimer: In no way does this have any true ties or canon to Coma Baby unless stated otherwise. It’s really just an indulgence AU to feed my obsession for Brivere drama.

Brivere stood behind his prince, head bowed down, with his hands balanced the on the hilt of a silverscale longsword, its sharp point digging into the marble floor of the council hall. He usually didn’t use such an outdated posture in these meetings, but Prince Sidon had advised him to appeal to the older Zora council in order to gain a little of their favor.

Although the two of them had put a lot of thought and research into their proposition, the knowledge that Brivere could either secure or lose his request with even the smallest action kept him on edge. Luckily, he was used to suppressing such worries, and so no one was able to catch onto the pit of anxiety that gnawed at his stomach. The only noticeable trait that gave his true feelings away was how tightly he was clutching onto his longsword.

After everyone had properly bowed to King Dorephan and settled in, Prince Sidon gave Brivere the nod to raise his head and stand up straight with his hands folded behind his back. He did so after gracefully twirling his sword around himself, snapping it into the weapon strap that was wrapped around one shoulder and looped across his broad chest. The longsword was completely still, hanging off of his back. This earned him a couple of pleased nods from the council members and apostles.

“First Knight Brivere,” King Dorephan boomed. “it has come to our attention that you and my son have a request of us.”

Brivere nodded politely. “Yes, your majesty. While I am very aware that the positions we currently have in our government are traditionally passed down from our great ancestors, I find it necessary to add a new role into our roster.”

The golden knight didn’t need his future ability to predict the mutters and head shakes that immediately came after his demand. Nonetheless, it still upset him that his suggestion was already being shot down before he was even able to properly explain himself.

King Dorephan hummed thoughtfully. “What makes you believe so, Brivere?”

“As you all know, I have recently awakened my ability to see the future, which is similar to my father’s.” The council nodded, recalling the event from a few days ago. “With this, it is clear that this power is passed through blood, generation to generation. I believe it is a blessing from Hylia herself, wanting to continue her protection of our people with this gift. As a result, I would like to create the position of Oracle Knight, name courtesy of Prince Sidon.” The prince grinned at this, remembering how the two of them had playfully fought over what to call their joint creation for days in the royal records hall.

“And just what would the purpose of this position be, First Knight?” Muzu asked.

“It is similar to the First Knight position, but it has the additional responsibility of using the ability to see the future to properly advise and protect the royal family. It will be passed down generation by generation, to whichever of my descendants receives this power.”

At this, one particularly displeased council member scoffed. “We cannot defy Zora traditions! We have kept and maintained our current position roster since the beginning of our race, only picking those who are qualified.”

Prince Sidon was now the one to speak up, eager to show off how prepared the two of them were. “Actually, that is not entirely correct. If you examine these positions,” he said, holding up a scroll from the royal records hall, pointing a claw at several sections, “they have only been added within the past few centuries, when they became necessary. I would be glad to give you this scroll to examine, but rest assured that Brivere and I have already confirmed its legitimacy.”

“Even so, we cannot let the position only be passed down by blood! The only one that follows that ritual is the role of the king!” Muzu hissed. “Do you intend to create this position just to usurp power from the royal family?!”

At this, Brivere shook his head. “That is far from my intention. I only ask that the position of Oracle Knight be passed down my bloodline because that is the only way the power to see the future will flow, and that quality is necessary for this new title. If it pleases the council, you may take away as much power or pay from this status as you like, but all I ask is that you keep its duty to protect the royal family.”

The council listened, seemingly more content with that compromise. King Dorephan let the words sink in before he broke the silence. “I believe that is all the questions we have, unless anyone else is unsatisfied.” The other members shook their heads. Brivere slowly became nervous, as the council members all suddenly wore the same emotionless mask that he had. It was impossible to tell what conclusion they had come to. “In that case, you may make a closing statement before you and my son must leave for us to deliberate and come to our answer.”

Brivere nodded, quietly clearing his throat as he stepped forward. His eyes softly gazed around, trying to make direct contact with each individual council member and apostle. “I know that tradition is important, and I would never disrespect our culture and proud history. That is why I propose that we start this new custom, not starting with me, but with my late father Prion.”

The council broke out into a wave of confused murmurs as King Dorephan raised his brow. “My father used his abilities to protect and advise the king in order to help our kingdom prosper. I simply wish to pick up where he left off and protect Prince Sidon. With this, we can start a new tradition where my descendants will dedicate themselves to the royal family. I wish to create this position not to gain more power or status, but merely to pledge my bloodline’s loyalty to the royal line from now on. Whatever your decision, I am thankful for your consideration.”

With this, Prince Sidon and his First Knight Brivere bowed respectfully before turning to leave the chamber.

;

“How do you think it went?” Brivere asked as he and his prince strolled down one of the palace’s many halls.

“To be quite frank, it is difficult to tell. They all looked about as indifferent as you usually do.” Sidon teased, trying to ease his knight’s tension. His attempt failed, as Brivere looked up at him with a rare worried look in his eyes, clearly wanting to ask something. “And no, I did not use my abilities to read their emotions. You know that I never use them without the person’s clear consent unless it is an emergency.”

Brivere nodded sheepishly, ashamed that the prince had caught onto his curiosity. “I apologize, my lord, it was improper of me to expect such a thing from you. I am just thankful that you helped me with the research and construction of my argument. This never would have happened without your assistance.” Sidon chuckled at his knight’s modesty. The two of them stopped in front of one of the windows, quietly enjoying the sight of their beloved Domain sprawled out before them.

Turning to face the golden Zora, Sidon let a genuine smile stretch across his pale face. “No matter the outcome, I do not regret supporting the Oracle Knight. But are you absolutely certain that your bloodline will not feel chained to and resent the title?”

“I have already told you of the visions that I had.” Brivere said softly, not looking away from the window. “Although, I did not mention them during the hearing because I worried that the council may think that I was making them up for my own benefit. But as long as you believe me, I am confident in my decision.”

Sidon nodded and turned back to gaze at the citizens walking around, enjoying the sunny weather. “Could you tell them to me again?” he asked gently.

Brivere slightly bobbed his head up and down before closing his eyes, basking in the sunlight. “I saw myself training a young girl who looked so similar to me. She always followed around a young man who looked so similar to you. This girl could predict the future, and she used this gift to protect and serve the young man. They went everywhere together, maintaining an admirably strong bond no matter how terrible the war or how great the distance. Then, the girl was training a little boy who looked more like her, but I could still see myself in him, and he followed around another little boy who looked so much like you that it hurt.”

“I watched the same cycle repeat through generations and generations of our bloodline, the powerful bond between our families never breaking. It was obvious that my descendants didn’t despise their role. Instead, they were completely honored to have the chance to protect the person they loved for the rest of their lives. And in each of them, I saw our Domain finally at peace, continuing to thrive under your family’s rule.”

The two of them leaned against the window sill in silence, enjoying the thought of their descendants thriving within their beloved kingdom. Brivere only opened his eyes when he felt Sidon’s strong arm rope around his waist. “And did you happen to see if my future children were also yours?” the prince teased.

Brivere flushed, quickly looking around to see if anyone else was nearby. The two of them and the Hylian Champion had been in an open relationship with each other for a while now. He and Link weren’t dating, a fact that bothered Brivere for reasons he couldn’t quite explain, but were rather just friends that happened to be in love with the same prince. However, their polyamorous relationship was unheard of in Zora culture, who mated with only one person for the rest of their lives, always with a strong soul-bond. Anything else was taboo. Brivere knew this well, considering what happened with his late mother.

As a result, they decided to keep the whole thing secret for now since all of them held such high and public positions. And even though the Hylian Champion was off fighting the Calamity, the other two Zoras decided to keep their own bond a secret, not wanting to expose themselves without him.

But Sidon would always tease the golden knight, saying that if he and Link developed into something more then he would easily approve. Brivere would always ignore it in turn. There’s no way he could date a man he used to despise; their current friendship is nothing short of a miracle.

So there was no reason to push or hope for anything more and possibly ruin that.

Finding no one, Brivere eased up slightly and leaned against Sidon’s chest, angling his tail so that it wouldn’t be squished in-between them. “Admittedly, I couldn’t tell. I was more focused on watching the actions of our children rather than their actual relation to each other.” The prince hummed in response, leaning his head on top of Brivere’s as they continued to gaze at the scenery outside of the window. Neither of them had any idea of how much time had passed when they heard a guard calling their names. They quickly pulled apart from each other as he came around the corner, announcing that the council had reached their decision.

Thanking him, both Zoras ran over to the council’s chamber, stopping out of sight of the entranceway to catch their breaths and recompose themselves. Sidon was the first to straighten up, giving his knight a reassuring squeeze on the arm before turning to face the entranceway. Swallowing the anxiety that crept up his throat, Brivere followed his prince into the chamber.

When the two of them had fully entered, the council and apostles present hushed their conversations to watch the Prince and his Knight position themselves in front of the king. Brivere whipped out his sword, going back into the same position as the beginning of the last meeting. He held his head down and gripped onto the weapon until Sidon gave him the same nod, and then he spun the sword around again until it hung off of his back, buckled into the weapon strap. Although the council had already come to their decision and no amount of theatrics could change it now, Brivere figured that he may as well give them a show they wouldn’t forget.

“First Knight Brivere and my beloved son Prince Sidon.” King Dorephan said in a proud voice. “The council has agreed to create the new position and title of the Oracle Knight.”

Years of maintaining a stone-cold mask of indifference was the only thing that saved Brivere’s dignity in that moment. If it hadn’t been for his aquired muscle memory in keeping a tough, indifferent appearance, he would have jumped around and shouted with joy. One quick moment of eye contact with Prince Sidon made it easy to tell that the prince wanted to do the same, but he was much less skilled at hiding it. The wide smile that stretched across his face completely gave him away.

“However, in exchange, the Oracle Knight will have a few differences from the First Knight, in order to balance out the power and maintain the tradition of First Knight.” Brivere nodded hesitantly. Fair enough. “The First Knight will continue to be the captain of the knights, but the Oracle Knight will not. Rather, they will solely be the personal knight and advisor of their designated member of the royal line. Both knights will report to their ruler, but neither will have any formal control over the other. Each will be considered to be the same in terms of status and equal in their importance. Does this satisfy the two of you?”

They bowed in unison and said “Yes, your majesty.” Brivere then stepped forward and knelt before the council members. “I am extremely grateful to all of you for your approval. I promise that I and my future descendants will never come to make any of you regret this decision.”

“We will be holding you to that,” King Dorephan chuckled. “However, there is more to our decision. In order for us to establish this new title, we have one more addition to the role of the Oracle Knight.” Brivere and Sidon glanced up, unable to keep the confusion off of their faces.

“We will explain more in a moment, but the two of you should prepare yourselves to speak in front of the whole Domain.”

;

An announcement was made that the Prince would be giving an important speech that pertained to everyone, even the Undercity dwellers, and so every Zora in the Domain was crammed together in the large streets near the palace. That is to say that the upper class sat in more comfortable viewing areas while the Undercity Zora tried not to touch them. The streets were alive with the sounds of conversation and rumors, all of the Zora wondering what the announcement would be about. They all prayed that it wasn’t a worrying declaration of something catastrophic happening again in the Domain, such as another Water Blight spreading around.

Their patience finally paid off when the prince came into view on one of the balconies with his First Knight right beside him, as usual. As expected, complete chaos broke out at the site of their beloved Prince, the women shrieking at his handsome appearance and the Undercity Zora hollering in appreciation of his inclusive policies on class equality. The prince rode out the excitement, showing off a wide smile as he waved to the crowd. His First Knight next to him was wearing an unfamiliar but fancy choker that covered all of his upper chest and neck, but no one was paying attention to the reserved golden Zora in favor of the more popular Prince Sidon.

Eventually the prince had to hold up his hand, waiting for the excited crowd to calm down before he spoke. “Zora of the Domain!” he bellowed, making sure each word could be heard by every individual. “I must thank you all for coming on such short notice. The announcement that I will make was the result of a decision made by the council just a few moments ago, and it was important for us to get this information out as soon as possible.”

Prince Sidon paused. “In short, I am in need of a new First Knight.”

A collective gasp washed over the crowd as everyone gawked at the former First Knight who was still standing next to the prince with a blank face. Waves of rumors and conversation soon drowned out the shock as every Zora in attendance speculated how the First Knight had gotten himself removed from his position. Those in the crowd who had always ridiculed and despised Brivere grinned smugly as they watched him continue to stand there with his usual emotionally-devoid stare. They were pleased to imagine how much he was actually squirming under that cold mask of his.

Everyone silenced when the prince raised his hand again. “Just as before, I am making the position open to everyone within the Domain, no matter their bloodline or class. We will decide this with the same tournament system, which will start in a few months. For those who wish to participate, you will need to register in the Basilica within the next few weeks and undergo a mental and physical examination before gaining approval to compete. I wish the best of luck to all of you.”

The crowd cheered, Undercity Zora in particular, and Prince Sidon waited until the noise calmed before he continued. “With that being said, I am proud to ask all of you to pay attention to my new Oracle Knight, Brivere.”

The cheers quickly stopped as the crowd stared in confusion as the prince stepped aside and gestured for the golden Zora to take his place. Oracle Knight? Every Zora was required to learn about the different positions and statuses available within their government, and they had definitely never heard of that one before.

They all finally noticed the very flashy choker that covered most of Brivere’s upper body, and each Zora turned to each other to ask if anyone knew which position it signified. It was definitely fancier than the Prince’s, but there was no way that the former First Knight would suddenly have more status than him. When he opened his mouth, the crowd was almost silent, wanting to hang onto every word that he said, searching for answers.

“First off, I must apologize for the misleading way that my lord introduced me.” Brivere said, shooting a pointed glance to Prince Sidon who just smiled back sheepishly. “I was not removed from my position for any misdeeds on my part. Rather, I have just been appointed to the status of Oracle Knight. It is alright if none of you know of it, because it was created just moments ago by the royal council through my request. Put simply, in this new position, I will advise and protect the royal family, Prince Sidon in particular, with my ability to see the future.”

The crowd gawked at the Oracle Knight, the streets full of shouts of denial and shock. There was only one Zora that everyone knew of that had had that very same power, and that man was dead.

Brivere knew that he didn’t have as much respect built up as Prince Sidon, so he just waited for the crowd to quiet down. It took a while, since everyone was busy trying to wrap their tails around his words, but eventually they calmed down enough for his voice to be heard again.

“Some of you in the crowd are aware of the controversy that has surrounded my lineage ever since my birth. However, I am not here to discuss that or to explain every single rumor to all of you. To make a long story short, I have been confirmed to be the son of Prion, and this choker is the same that he wore.”

To an outsider, one would have thought that the Calamity had struck the Zora Domain once more. The streets shook in complete chaos as everyone began shouting and clamoring for answers. Those who had never known Brivere were completely blindsided by the fact that the late First Knight Prion, a decorated war hero that they all celebrated even to this day, had had a hidden son for so long. And those who did know Brivere either felt embarrassment for being wrong or felt nothing but rage and disbelief.

Several guards had to be dispatched in order to hold back the wild crowd. Prince Sidon threw his arms around as he shouted for everyone to calm down while Brivere reflexively held a battle stance in front of the prince, trying to hold him back from the chaos. The mayhem below nearly drowned out the approaching footsteps of King Dorephan as he walked to the balcony.

“Silence!” the king bellowed, his voice nearly knocking over every Zora in attendance. Instantly, the streets were quiet once more, almost as if the Calamity had killed them all in a heartbeat. “While the shock of these new decisions and discoveries are natural, it is no excuse to treat our speaker with such disrespect. We will release more detailed information about everything later but, for now, I swear to you, my beloved citizens, that we are absolutely certain that Brivere is the son of Prion.”

The crowd let his words sink in, only somewhat satisfied. King Dorephan let out a huff, turning to Brivere who had somehow went through all of the chaos with a straight face. “Please continue, Oracle Knight.”

Brivere nodded and walked back out to the front of the balcony. “I did not come here solely to speak of my new position or to confirm my parentage.” he began. “I must also talk of the additional position that the council has attached to mine: the Holy Knight. It is simply a personal knight and assistant to the Oracle Knight.”

“Similar to the First Knight, the position will be open to everyone, regardless of class or family name. Unlike Prince Sidon’s tournament, however, the winner will not be decided solely on raw strength alone.” Brivere explained. “A series of trials will he held to test for intelligence and a sharp mind. The final stage will be different, but its content will not be revealed until ten people remain. Those who wish to participate will gather in the records hall at dawn 3 months from today.”

“I advise anyone who considers joining to study as much as you can, particularly government politics, but unfortunately, I cannot give any other advice than that.” With this, Brivere bowed. “Thank you all for your time.”

He was about to turn to retreat back into the palace, but he hesitated, clearly sensing something. His body visibly locked up for a moment before he spoke again. “I am aware that many of you may be wondering why we are bothering to hold these trials and tournaments if I could just use my ability to already select the winners.” Everyone in the crowd stared back, dumbfounded.

Brivere quickly tried to explain himself. “Admittedly, I just had a short vision of many of you asking me that very question or disregarding the competitions altogether. However, I encourage you all to try. The future is always subject to change based on your actions, so do not believe that you have no chance. You will only fail if you do not try.”

At this, Brivere paused, and suddenly his golden eyes shifted off to the side. It was clear that he was staring at someone in particular. “Good luck to all of you,” he blurted out, shifting his gaze back before the crowd could determine who he was looking at. “I look forward to working with the winner.” With this, he quickly turned to go back to Prince Sidon’s side, and the two of them followed behind King Dorephan to disappear back into the palace.

;

With the announcements finished, the crowd began to disperse, loudly talking amongst themselves about the shocking news of not only the discovery of Prion’s lost son but also the rare addition of two new titles. Undercity Zora were absolutely ecstatic, boasting about how they were going to prepare for Prince Sidon’s tournament or the Oracle Knight’s trials as they swam back down to their homes. Uppercity Zora complained about the Undercity Zora’s excitement, confident that none of them would win against the elite class. But no matter where they were from, gossip began to flow between every Zora about the day’s new discoveries.

Estuu watched it all from the tall rock that he was perched on. He had been listening to the announcements from this height, wanting to avoid getting smothered in the rambunctious crowd that had filled out the streets earlier.

Admittedly, when everyone had burst into complete havoc at the announcement of Brivere being Prion’s son, Estuu had had a bit of a meltdown. He had covered his ears and whined, his tail wildly smacking against his back. King Dorephan’s loud voice had almost sent him over the edge, but his older brother’s familiar tone had brought him back.

Estuu didn’t quite understand why his brother had looked at him like that around the end of his speech. Part of him knew that it was because the overprotective Zora was worried about him, but the other part argued that there was something else in his older brother’s gaze. But Estuu quickly shook the strange feeling off, knowing that he had something else more pressing to attend to.

When the crowd had mostly disappeared, save for the usual residents who lingered in the streets to talk to their neighbors, Estuu carefully climbed down from the rock with his one functioning hand. He quickly scurried through the streets towards the library.

If he made it in time, he could still rent out enough books to study for the Holy Knight trials.

#sidon #prince sidon #botw #breath of the wild #loz #legend of zelda #coma baby #brivere #estuu #link #fic for a fic #ao3 #banishedone #banishedfics #trying to tie loose ends #catharsis #tttle

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