#and anyone from the outside is cruel and bitter and trying to dismantle everything they stand for.

[scattered-winter]

really really really fucked up how the only way out is through and i can't help them

[theofficersacademy]

                                  Forsyth   Byleth (F)   Andrei   Lachesis                              Naesala   Selena (FE8)   Chrom   Yarne   Hilda                                   Katarina   Ephidel   Saizo   Isadora   Eir

TEAM TAG: #AOtheta2024 CORPSE COUNT: ██ PUBLIC OPINION: IRRELEVANT

No matter where we go, death follows.

The week outside of Rusalka proves difficult and uncomfortable. The earth is unforgiving, unwilling to give pity to those that have already experienced loss. The faces you know perish, but fate decides it is not enough. Everything continues to keep going wrong despite your best efforts.

That's how it is.

Dark thoughts claim you. They encroach on the mind, unable to find peace even as the heart might wish for it. Bitter circumstances follow you just as death does, and you keep waiting for fortunes to turn. But will they really?

Those inside the walls, the majority of you find it suffocating, wishing to return to reality. It is just as Keranes said— the longer you remain, the worse it becomes. This promise of happiness, though it entices some, cannot possibly be what you must be satisfied with. This pleasant grave will rot the lot of you.

When will we return?

Fate is cruel. Falsehoods are equally so. The voices around you grow more frantic and desperate, Keranes and Celephais both, reaching a fever pitch. A conflict proves inescapable.

And you are pulled right into the thick of it, unable to escape it yourself.

Happiness turns to sorrow.

Love twists to something bordering on hate.

The cycle of pain and its subsequent fury…

…perhaps you cannot escape this either, for even if you do not perpetuate it yourself, who will stop the world from feeling them both?

(It's hard to stop yourself sometimes, isn't it?)

The Circumstances

On the third night, Keranes returns with an army of nightmares of all sorts. Slimes, corpse trees, and spirits flood the walls of Rusalka, and the earth tremors underneath the force of Exodus, the source of all nightmares. The defenses of Rusalka fall, leaving the Outsiders a route in.

At the same time, the Insiders see their battle with the villagers trying to stop them from leaving is interrupted, familiar faces from the outside joining. With Keranes serving a good distraction, taking care of most of the normal villagers and walls, it allows the Insiders an opportunity to reunite with the Outsiders.

Isadora alone remains with the people of Rusalka, taking the vengeful spirit of Harken with her. The people of Rusalka quickly rally their people, anticipating this attack, and she joins them on their side of the conflict as Celephais and their people fight to preserve the dream of Rusalka, a haven for those traumatized by life who wished for protection. Jeralt and Vigarde, since they were able to retreat in the previous skirmish, rejoin Celephais as well, resolves renewed.

Keranes meanwhile fights to dismantle Rusalka entirely, unable to stand its falsehoods anymore and distorted herself. Speaking to her is a fool's errand, her becoming a nightmare long ago. She seeks only to destroy, warped from her original desire to return to reality as she knows it. This was meant to be a balm, but Celephais has made it a prison.

Conflict is inevitable, and there is nowhere else for anyone to go. A battle wages, but as it does, the reality around you distorts, angry and desperate cries filling the air. And now you are a part of it, the people of Rusalka putting their all into their defense against the Nightmares— to which they see all of you as being a part of.

What to Do

Ephidel is able to use one use of Recover on any party member sans Isadora right now. Choose and roll and alter the HP of that affected party member.

Immediately afterwards, everybody will be entering combat. Your combat document for the week is here.

This will be written as one big thread between all fourteen of you. Turn order is not set in stone, and instead people should roll and go when they are free. Ping those who have yet to go after linking your post in the team channel to ensure everyone can know right away when someone should be going next.

You will notice that there is a new mechanic exclusive to this campaign in this fight. Vengeful Spirits are synced with their most closely associated character. They can only be activated for one round, and after the round is up, they are exhausted for the rest of the fight and cannot be summoned again. You are however free to time when they are summoned. They share HP with their synced muse, but they come with their own unique builds.

Important Notes

Unlike previous weeks, there will be an active timer now on posts. There should never be at any time any longer than twelve hours between posts in the thread. If you are unable to go, please let your team know so your turn for the round can be skipped.

This is a combat-centric week. Opportunities for threads outside of the combat thread are not present. You may see this as an opportunity to wrap up threads from previous weeks in between your turn in the battle.

Combat does not mean you are unable to still write your characters interacting with one another during it. Characters can help direct each other, care for one another, ask things of one another, etc. As with the other weeks, just because you are rolling to do a task / action (in this case, an attack or heal or otherwise) does not mean you are confined to only writing that action and nothing else. You are free to be creative with how you write your rolls, and such creativity and character interaction is in fact encouraged.

As such, please try to read every post in the thread and not just the one before you. Besides reading one another's writing, there's a chance someone else might have addressed your character in a previous post, but they went a few turns ago (especially given the size of this thread) so it is best to keep in the loop to not miss these instances.

If you have any questions, feel free to ping Mod N.

[marshmallowprotection]

Iris

Pairing: Choi Saeran/Reader, 707 | Choi Luciel/Main Character

Description: Was there faith in a false paradise with a savior that spilled honey sweet lies to make you agree? There is no life to be found amongst those in a rotting flowerbed, only those clinging to the roots as the world awaits your demise. Why is he still here when others had long been plucked from the dying earth? And better yet, why are you still here after everything, clinging to his roots as if he’ll bring you life? Or is he the one clinging to you?

SE Saeran x Former Believer Reader

Word Count: 6000

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[Read On AO3]

Chapter Fourteen

Unknown didn’t know what to do with himself anymore. He frankly had no idea what was running through his mind. It was like he was back at square one again where he was a child that only knew how to scream and shout miserably.

It seemed as though that was the way that his world was always meant to be. Once, he had accepted that as it was, but now that it dug its ugly fangs into his skin, he felt sick to his stomach. It felt like his world was caving in around him all of a sudden. It was like nothing he did or said mattered.

His Savior had worked with the very person that she promised that he would be allowed to destroy, and what was worse, was that he had been subjected to all this bullshit without you by his side to help him make sense of those feelings of agony. Nothing made sense unless he was standing by your side anymore.

There had been a time before you came into his life that he could’ve done anything, said anything, and ruined things for everything and never sweated the thought. He could destroy and live how he wanted to live because that was the purpose of his existence in the first place. He was meant to get rid of everything and then it would just click. Any confusion that he had would be done if he just got done with the mission.

Except, the longer he was involved in his mission, the more confused and out of touch he came with everything that he was doing. He was committed to paradise but the longer he remained, the more this ugly feeling in the pit of his chest started to tell him that he needed to think about if the paradise even wanted him in the first place.

If he was valued to them, why were you not valued as much as he was?

Why were you dangled in front of him like you were nothing but a tool? Sure, he treated you like his assistant, but he had wanted you for a reason. You were his partner, you weren’t his tool. There was a strong difference between those two things. He knew what it felt like to be a tool and he was fine with that but the idea of you… well, you weren’t him.

You weren’t the man that he was and you never deserved to live through that shit. You were his Iris, you were something different from all of this, and he wanted you to be kept by his side so he didn’t have to think twice about why he did what he did.

Unknown was who he was because he had a job to do to make everyone pay.

If that meant he had to follow a few damn rules, that was fine, but when the promises that were made to him weren’t kept and broken over and over again, how could he trust any of them? He had been hurt by lies at the start of his life, and to think that someone who told him that they would never lie to him would go against him…

It was outright infuriating.

He had taken you from the pools of nothing and made you something because he yearned to be able to grasp at you. He knew that you were worth something from the second that he saw you, almost like a faded memory that he could reach with his fingertips. You were the one thing in his sea of black and white that made sense to him. You were the only thing that made him feel like he was alive again.

For so long and far, Unknown had lived in the darkness and made himself content with it. That all changed for him the day that he saw you for the first time. He didn’t know what it was about you or what it was that even made him stop that day and look at you. He never looked at anyone as he lived in Mint Eye.

It was a sea of nameless, shapeless, faceless people who meant nothing to him but everything to his Savior’s goals. He didn’t care about that. He cared about his revenge and what it was going to do for him in the long run. He never stopped working and he kept his eyes trained on the prize that had been dangled on a string like a carrot for years.

He wanted to see the destruction of everything that he believed hurt him.

But was that happening right now? How could it be happening right now? His Savior had not only threatened you weeks ago, but V of all people had shown up as if he was forgiven and on their side. It felt a sour taste in his mouth that made him want to retch. It was as if everything he knew was thrown to the wayside. He had been made to believe something and that something had been thrown away from him like it was trash.

The world at large was meant to be something that he understood. He was meant to understand that a long time ago and now it felt like he was a child again that didn't know everything. He didn't like to feel like he was a child. He wasn't that pathetic child anymore. He was supposed to be the strongest person. He was the strongest person in this damned place.

Right?

This is supposed to be with his Savior who had always told him. The world was supposed to be a horrible and cruel place. The only heaven that was going to make sense, in the long run, was going to be paradise. Everything else outside of that was going to have the fullest of intentions to destroy him. The world had wanted to kill him since the moment that he breathed life. That much he did know.

The outside world was supposed to be an ugly and bitter place. The moments that he thought he tasted freedom underneath that blue sky were not moments of freedom. They were only merely fleeting moments of taunting. The world had dangled the lovely things that existed on a string in front of him and he would never be able to touch it. No matter how much he wanted it. At some point, he thought he stopped caring.

He was supposed to be happy and safe in paradise. The darkness and the walls around him were supposed to conceal him from the evil that existed. Things were supposed to be in a very specific way. As it turns out, they're not like that at all. This realization made him sick to his stomach and it confused him even more about his alignment. Everything was supposed to be cut and dry but it wasn't.

The things that he thought he knew just didn't make sense anymore. No amount of begging and screaming for answers was going to get him anything that he wanted. It was like everything that he thought he was... was trash. It was like everything that he thought mattered didn't matter. It was like promises didn't mean what they meant.

How was he supposed to trust the people that mattered if they were doing things that went against everything they had ever told him?

God.

Unknown was seething. No amount of trying to figure out any of this was going to make it any better. It was something that he wasn't going to find answers for. His blood was boiling and he just needed to solve that. He'd been dragged to hell and back by that agency and yanked around by that liar and his band of idiots long enough. It was the worst week of his life and he wanted for it to all be over and everything to be as it should.

Everything was supposed to go back to the way that it was. He kept thinking that it would, but the reality that things would never be that way was starting to dawn on him. He should’ve known that things weren’t ever going to be what they were… the moment that his Savior dangled you over the top of his head like a trinket or a toy that he could never reach out and grasp.

Unknown thought that upon his return, his Savior would explain that this was all some kind of test and it was going to be over before he knew it. But, she cast him aside and demanded that he leave and go back to the world. She looked him in the eyes and sent him away like a child that spoke too much, too soon about things that the grown-ups didn’t want him to talk about or know about yet.

She ignored his demands and shouts and jeers of what happened with the wave of a hand.

Just like that, he was sent away. He wanted to know everything about why the traitor was here doing work that he was meant to do, why you weren’t waiting for him, and worse, why the woman that he trusted like a mother had seemingly ignored her promises to him all while keeping her eyes glued on his twin brother and the idiots that he belonged with. She ignored him and disregarded him as if he were trash in the bin.

Unknown had faith in his Savior but she had burned him twice in a row now. She had burned him twice and it felt like the sting of betrayal was going to wash over his skin and make him sink into a lot lower into the depths of the earth where darkness wanted to blanket him and pull him deeper into the abyss where the magma core would be rid of him once and for all if it had its way before all was said and done.

He didn’t know what to think anymore, frankly.

He tore apart the hallways and corridors the second that he left the Savior’s room, scowling and barking at anyone that got in his path, knowing that he had work to take care of and that by the time he finished, maybe he would be able to make sense of whatever the hell was going on in this place. The mess didn’t please him but it did sate the urge inside of his chest that hissed in a low rumble, “ Destroy, destroy, destroy ”.

It was the only thing he knew how to do.

Unknown knew how to dismantle everything that hurt him and he knew how to make it go away. He thought that it was enough to keep him from reliving the darkest parts of his memories, those pieces that lingered in the back of his head that only spoke of isolation and pain, memories that’d made no sense to him because they were clouded with a haze of elixir and dust.

Memories that he had no control over because they felt like they weren’t his own.

Whatever it was that bound him to this reality was starting to pull away at the seams and all he wanted at this point was to feel the relief of retribution. If he could have what he wanted, this wouldn’t be happening in the first place.

If the bomb hadn’t gone wrong, if that idiot hadn’t tried to rip him away from paradise, if people from the outside would stop meddling in his what he’d been promised, and if his word could be kept—

None of this would be happening in the first place. If things had just gone according to the plan that he intended, nothing would’ve blown out of this scale. He could’ve held control of all of the cards and the fates of those that he wanted. He could hold the strings to their bodies and use them as puppets to get what he always wanted out of this backwater reality that gave him nothing from the moment he was born.

He clawed his way to where he was today and he would be damned if anyone got in his way. It didn’t matter anymore, nothing mattered anymore, but he was going to do something about it whether his Savior liked what he was doing or not. He was promised something and he was on whatever path it took to get it. His head was just confused with how he decided to get there. His bated breath felt heavy in his lungs now.

Destruction was left in his wake with every step that he took and the more believers that got in his way, the more people that clung to the walls and tried to run away from him. He was a monster for a reason and he always had been. That was just a reality for Unknown. But, for his Savior to ignore what he had become to please her stung like betrayal. It stung like the first time he was left alone to rot in the darkness.

It felt like he was being buried alive once again.

And, for what?

Why was he being abandoned and thrown out with the trash? He never thought that he would be treated like this in a place that was meant to shelter him from everything that tormented him all the years that he had been forced to live. He never thought for a moment that things would go from a point of control to a realm where he had nothing to show for his work except the failures that she’d dangled in front of his face as if it was the price for his sins.

What did he have to show for any of this?

What, if anything, did he have to prove what it meant to be Unknown?

That thought hung over his head like a ton of bricks just waiting to squash his head and make him clatter to the ground. A part of him might have welcomed that at this point because the aching he felt in the pit of his stomach made him feel sick. He wanted to cry, to cry, to shout, to let out all of the feelings that were suppressed inside of him but he was burnt out. Nothing that he was going to do was going to mend what he felt inside his chest.

He wanted relief… he wanted something that made sense… he wanted this splitting headache to go away. The Savior was doing everything wrong and the more that he thought about it, the more he felt like he was going to lose control.

It all started because of you.

Did it start because of you?

No, it couldn’t have been because of you but you were the only one that survived the dismantling of the garden staff for a reason.

Unknown knew your face well before you knew his. That was a fact that you’d never known and he never cared to mention. He knew your face because it was etched into his memory for whatever reason. It was like a flickering spark in the back of his head, a hushed whisper that said that you’d be important to him and he could make use of you.

Something in his memory told him about a vision of someone standing at the window, watching a gardener work from afar only to be pulled away back to the darkness.

Were those memories his, though? Unknown wasn’t sure. He just knew that he knew your face and the second he caught you in the hallway, he knew that he could finally make use of you. It’d been easy. He worked past that strange memory and made his way ahead to look through your files and see why you stood out amongst the sea of nothingness that belonged to Mint Eye.

Why was it that your face stood out in the crowd?

Normally, when he looked out on the crowd of people, he would find himself staring at only the darkness that shrouded faces. But when it was you, he could see the glimmer of your lips from the darkness and that enough told him that you were worth something. Why waste someone who had potential like that? He saved you, that’s what he told himself, he saved you from being thrown out like trash with the other gardeners.

It was the moment after he proposed the idea of taking you into his Savior that she mentioned that she would be getting rid of the rest of the gardeners. There were whispers of a liar amongst the few and the loud, saying that there was a gardener that was trying to convince others to step away or try to escape. However, since nobody knew which one it was, the Savior decided that it would be wise to start over fresh and scrap what remained of the workers.

After all, paradise could always gain more help in the way of the outside world with the wave of a gentle hand. She didn’t want to waste her time on finding out who did wrong.

She just wanted to solve the problem, and frankly, Unknown understood why she was doing what she did. Yet, for him to think that you were almost wrenched away and thrown into the basement before you’d be buried in the very dirt you mended?

For some reason, even in his apathy, the thought made his stomach curdle and no matter what he did, he couldn’t stop thinking about how close you had come to the end. He had been there in his life many times, but that stupid face of yours… you would never survive if you were thrown to the dogs like that.

You were made for a paradise of bliss, not for the torture that came for those who’d needed to learn their lesson in the first place.

You were something else and he knew from the moment that he caught a glimpse of you. He wasn’t the type to care about others or get sentimental, but you were his and once he made that choice, it meant that you were always going to be his. Nobody could take that from him because you were promised to him. That was the point. You were made to be his and the idea that they’d try to take you away from him…

It’s what clouded his mind in the first place and allowed for those idiots to get under his skin. He made that mistake on his own, but he wasn’t going to do that again. He was going to make all of the idiots pay for it if he could. The bite of acid burned at the back of his throat but he kept going forward as he walked onward, following the hallway and making a mess until he got back to the room that was yours.

It was his and yours.

That was something else he was enraged about. He had no idea where you were… the Savior didn’t say a word about you, she merely told him to go back to work and that the ceremony for the liar… would be coming in due time. That’s all she said. He didn’t know what to think when he looked into her eyes because she hid many truths and lies behind them. It was a mask that Unknown had known very well since the moment he met her, but he thought that her truth was only meant for him.

Had she chosen to lie to him because of you?

There was no way she had any idea about what he’d done in his fit of anger from the elixir that you were meant to take. He was damned good at making his dosage and making something that looked like it. He needed the stuff or he would get sick, but the amount that you took in each week was such a low amount that it made no difference in taste or quality for you to drink a fake.

He even took the measure of making sure you took your fakes every week, the emerald shine gliding past your lips as he kissed you and held you down until there was nothing left of it. Those moments he knew that you were going to be covered for. He knew that he could keep you as his assistant and he wouldn’t have to worry about a damned mess in the wind later on when he got his revenge.

He didn’t think that far ahead, he just knew that he couldn’t afford for you to be blitzed out of your mind when he needed someone to help him navigate the storm. That’s what he told himself, that’s what he kept telling himself whenever he felt a twinge of doubt in the back of his head in the way of going against the will of paradise. Unknown had just been too angry to stop himself from asserting his right.

Paradise was supposed to be just as much his as it was the Savior’s, and that’s what he told himself as he lived his path to this point. But, was it his when the Savior was pushing him around like a pathetic stray? The look in her eyes hadn’t comforted him. It made his blood boil and all he could think of was the desire to destroy everything for making him who he was today.

Unknown would go to grave lengths to make sure that you weren’t gotten rid of like the rest of them and what did he have to show for it? Nothing. He had nothing and everything that he did have was being stolen away from him. His life was nearly meaningless. Nothing made sense and every part of him was pooling with dread and agony over these thoughts. He was running around in circles that didn’t have answers.

He slammed his hand against the keypad the second that he reached the doorway to his workroom, his fingers hitting the long string of code that locked him from the outside. It took him a few tries simply because he was so angry, but he managed it and the electronic code let him inside. His room was still a mess from the confrontation that had happened long ago. Nobody had picked up from the aftermath.

That twisted his stomach in knots as he thought about you again, wondering where you were and what you were doing. Where were you? His bated breath burned in his lungs as he looked around the room, a growl in the back of his throat the more that he looked around for answers. He kicked at a pile of papers, only to stop when he realized that you were strewn across the couch with tired eyes and clammy skin.

You looked like roadkill and as if someone had run you through a wringer over and over again. He felt sick looking at the bruises and scrapes that littered your skin. It looked like you tasted hellfire in your veins and nothing stopped it from happening. This was one of the things he feared most, to see you on the floor, twisted up like a ragdoll who meant nothing to the world but what good they could offer.

For some reason, that image was something that haunted him… it wasn’t something that he cared about happening to him, but it was different with you. You weren’t like the others, and as much as he wanted you to stay in paradise with him… as much as he craved to kill them all and dance on the graves with you in his arms, enough was enough.

Nothing made sense anymore but he was going to make sense of it if it was the last thing that he ever did.

The thoughts that ran through his mind weren’t pretty.

It made him sick. The anger that had been boiling over inside of him had reached a point that he couldn’t ignore anymore. It was haunting, it tasted like bile, and this was the last straw. It was the last piece of the puzzle for him. It was at that moment that he snapped and there was no way for him to go back from the path that he was thinking of at that moment. He just broke, and he felt it coil up inside of him only to snap and come undone for the last time.

Unknown ignored the urge to wake you up, no, he just flipped his chair out of the way after he stormed across the room, unlocking his computer and starting to work on what he needed to get done. This was it for him. This was why he was so angry all the time and he had to make a change if he wanted to see something happen.

His mind was all over the place but he knew what he had to do now after seeing you broken and abandoned. That was it. That was the last straw. He couldn’t take it anymore and something had to change before his head blew off of his shoulders. He just had to do something now before it was too late. It probably was too late, it likely was beyond too late, there was nothing that he could do here to—

He wanted to—

He needed to—

That was it.

This was the last straw.

His fingers moved along the stream of code faster than he knew what to do with himself, and he started the process that he had set out to create weeks ago. He just had to add a few things along the way to ensure that everything went smoothly. He just had to enter this next stream of code to get what he wanted. He just had to do this—

Unknown kept typing and typing away as his fingers burned against the keys. He was hitting and stroking them faster than he knew what he was doing, ignoring the way that his strangled breath hit his lungs, knowing that he needed to get this done now before he lost the steam that he had to work with and broke down. He needed to do this. He needed to be able to do this and make sense of this bullshit as fast as he could before it made him explode.

The strings of code attached to his screen kept flooding from the top to the bottom. He focused on that until he felt a hand brush against his shoulder. It made him recoil and whip his head to the side to come to see you. You were staring at him through bleary eyes and a confused expression that seemed to say that you weren’t all there in your head. Your hair was a mess and rings of purple laid around your eyes. It was like you were broken.

He had tried to ignore looking directly at you but now he could see it, he could see the pain in your eyes. He hissed, almost without thinking, feeling the coil beginning to burn in the back of his head with the things that he wanted to do to those that had hurt you in the first place. “Get back down,” he found himself saying. “Get back down!”

“Are you real…?” your voice was fragile, much like the body that you possessed, and you tried to reach out yet again for him. He had to resist the urge to slap your hand away with everything he had in his body. “I don’t know how much of this is real anymore… I thought I knew but I’m just lost again.”

Unknown’s jaw was tight as he sat there, unable to look away from you, knowing that no matter what he did, he couldn’t stop this feeling. “How much? How much did they make you drink while I was gone?”

Like a lost puppy, that dazed look in your eyes still felt like it hadn’t quite understood what was happening around you just yet. Your trembling hand tried to touch him but he found himself only able to hold you back by grabbing your wrist. He wanted you close but right now, he knew that if he let himself stop, he was going to break down. “I lost track… I keep seeing you in my dreams… I don’t know what I did wrong… the Savior hates me… she hates you… I don’t understand anything anymore...”

“I was in the basement for days… I’m not sure that I’m not there even now… I just… I… Unknown, tell me I’m real. Tell me you’re real. Tell me this is real… we’re real… please, just tell me that you’re here with me, I just need to hear it. I don't care how miserable or pathetic that sounds. I… I need to hear it… please… I need to hear your voice.”

“She did this to you?”

“...It was the Savior, yes.”

“Everything?”

“She wouldn’t stop… she said she was angry I was… tricking you... I don’t understand why. We’ve only been committed to paradise. You didn’t run away! You’d never run away! I don’t know why she thought— I don’t understand—I’m so—I can’t. I can’t… I can’t… I can’t… I’m so sick… I’m so tired… I want Unknown back…”

“I can’t believe this shit! I can’t believe it!”

Whatever they told you, it screwed with your head. You were speaking nonsense and circles of the days that you had suffered while he was away. He was right to think that his Savior would use you against him like this. You had been tortured as she warned him and that reality did not pass him readily. He knew that this was possible but he never wanted to believe that it would happen to him or you.

He wanted to believe it was a farce. He wanted to believe that things would never turn out that way because he was given a promise. But, it wouldn’t be the first time that someone went back on those promises, would it? It wouldn’t be the first time that someone left him in the dirt to rot after they said that they would never leave him behind to burn alive in the isolation and misery that he’d been given since he was born.

What was belief when all his faith meant nothing to anyone? What was a Savior to a believer if they broke their word? What was a man to a God if God had already forsaken him? What was a family to you if you had been burned by everyone that said that they loved you and would never leave you behind? What was anything when he had nothing to show for it? What was the point in all of the grief if he never won?

But, after all… he was the one that dumped the elixir out of the blue when she threatened him. He might have known that she was going to do that to him all along. That she was going to do this to you all along. That stung because this was supposed to be heaven and heaven was meant to be without misery or pain.

It was supposed to be a place of comfort and safety but where the hell was comfort when you looked like roadkill?

Where was paradise when you suffered?

Where was paradise when he suffered?

What was the truth?

What was his truth?

In the end, he didn’t know what the truth was. The coil that he had control over steadily snapped once more, and he found himself frozen as the computer dinged behind him. It meant that what he wanted to happen was nearly complete. He forced himself to stand up and ignored the sounds of crackling and hissing from his joints. He just yanked you by the wrist and pushed you into the bedroom.

That seemed to pull you from your daze almost instantly as you stared at him, wide eyes realizing that he was, in fact, real, and there was no dream left to be had. You opened your mouth to try to say something but he cut you off by kissing you deeply. It was the most painful kiss of his life and he refused to pull away until you were smashing against his hand to try to breathe. Unknown did not stop to think. He was running on adrenaline.

“You’re real,” your voice cracked. It was a painful sound that sounded like relief. You tried to hug him but he didn’t let you. He adjusted the jacket that lingered against your shoulders and then as you felt secure, he pulled away, slamming the door shut and locking you in the bedroom with the lock twisted tightly from the outside.

Unknown knew what he had to do now. He knew what he was going to do. He could feel his mind already made up. He was going to confront the Savior whether she liked it or not, and he was going to get you the fuck out of paradise if it was the last thing he did. He tried to stop the elixir from the burn that you faced, and he turned against what he believed in because he thought it would keep you by his side.

He had been promised anything he wanted and the Savior fucking lied to him. She lied about the liar, she lied about the traitor, and she lied to him about you. If there was truth in those lies, he was going to make them fucking tell him the truth. No matter the cost, he needed to know and he was going to find out. His blood boiled and the angry roared its ugly head.

You banged against the door but to no avail would it open. “Let me out! Let me out! I need to be with you!”

His voice still sounded nothing like his. “Stay here and don’t fucking move a muscle. I can’t trust any of them! I can’t believe she did this to you! I can’t believe she did this to me! This is a fucking nightmare, Iris— this is a fucking nightmare! I’m living in a fucking nightmare! She promised me my paradise—us, our paradise—and if I can’t even trust my Savior with you, who the fuck am I supposed to trust anymore? She’s choosing them over us! She’s choosing them! I refuse to be the one left behind!”

“Unknown—”

He felt those dangerous words flooding to the surface before he could stop them. “I refuse to let her destroy you as she destroyed me! I’ll rip them rip from fucking limb before I let that happen! Never again! Never again! Never again! Never again! Stay in that fucking room until it’s safe again!”

“Come back! Unknown, come back! Please, don’t leave me again! I can’t do this! We’re supposed to do everything together side by side! I can’t be alone! I promised that we would do this together and you— you can’t! Please! Please, come back! I don’t know what I did wrong, but I’ll work hard and I’ll make it right! I don’t care what happened, I just want us to be where we were! Please, please come back!”

No matter how much you screamed, cried, or begged for Unknown to turn around and come back, he wouldn’t. Unknown made sure that your files were erased from the database so that if things went wrong, nobody would ever know what you did or who you were. He was preparing himself for the worst as he decided what he was going to do today. He knew that no matter what happened, it was the end.

Something was going to end today and there was no turning back.

He swiped the keyboard clean of what he’d done and headed for the door, bathing himself in the light of the sunshine that he had long been denied. Unknown was going to give you that sunshine, no matter what the fuck he had to do or break to make it happen. This was his choice, and the cry you made was only spurning him to fight

[jd-the-anime-fan]

Whichever question you wanna answer most for all of then

I chose number 4

Has your character witnessed something that fundamentally changed them? If so, does anyone else know?

Derormr at first didn’t care much for the Stormcloak Rebellion but after witnessing Torygg’s death at Ulfric’s hand however, he starts to despise the rebels. Part of his reasoning for forming the Ebonheart Company is to help repair relations between both Nords and non-Nords. Elisif, Sonaire, Horoth and Ushwei know about it

Ingda first joined the Dawnguard for the potential of money, but soon realised the scale of threat they were facing when she met with Harkon. The same is true for Alusati and Ra’thri-Dar. Serana and Athasai know this.

Kayesek failed to save his father when their home was attacked by bandits, his brother disowned him and he moved to Chorrol in Cyrodiil. Despite his brother’s cruel words to him, the event made him determined to try his best at preventing a similar tragedy befalling other families. Only Yaznakh, Enron and Lydia know about it.

Gelor was more or less bored with the lack of life/world-altering events going on when he was a boy as he was born after the Great War and found a shrine to Mehrunes Dagon, left completely undisturbed. He had always had the hidden, controversial opinion that Dagon brought about a catalyst for rebirth from the ashes. When Dagon first spoke to him, it became his main purpose in life to revive the Mythic Dawn. Silus knew before Gelor killed him.

Rena grew up in the slums of Bravil and despite her parents trying their best to provide for her they were still poor labourers. When she discovered her gift in haggling she realised the potential for earning money almost instantly, it made her determined to never fall into poverty again. Daro’adhi is the one who knows.

Lisnna was ostracized by other nobles as she was a bastard of a much-beloved man who was considered honourable. The scandal caused him to give up his position in the court, the death of her mentor during the Invasion of Wayrest, who taught her magic, the only person she felt truly close with gave her the conviction to train her magical abilities and try to take Wayrest back from the Corsairs who overtook it. Mausis, Loueus, Borgakh, Erandur and her colleagues at the College of Winterhold know.

Loueus was always a worshipper of Hircine, believing strongly in the potential for the Bloodmoon Prophecy of the Fourth Era to come about in his lifetime. While it’s a far-off date, the corsairs that overtook Wayrest were commanded to root out any sort of Daedra worship. This included the hunters Loueus grew up with, he was out hunting when they were attacked and killed. Mausis, Lisnna, Erandur and Borgakh know.

Mausis always experienced prejudice on account his Orcish heritage and after the Invasion of Wayrest, in which he lost his adopted parents and many of his mentors. Like his friends, he wants to take Wayrest back from the Corsairs but knows he needs power to do it and uses the skills he has to become a squire in an attempt to work his way up the social ladder. Lisnna, Loueus, Erandur and Borgakh know.

Yaznakh always wanted to join the Legion as her Altmer father was a Legionairre. When she first started losing friends though, that’s when the cruel reality of war sunk in for her. Fighting in the Great War made her stricter and harder but also installed in her a burning desire to stop the Dominion from taking Tamriel or die trying.

Daro’adhi, like Rena grew up in Bravil’s slums. Her parents were Skooma addicts, unfortunately her mother died after a bad batch of the narcotic and her father desperately tried to use their inheritance to pay of a powerful skooma dealer. It didn’t work, her father was killed and she was left an orphan. Because of this, she learned to be a thief to survive and hates both skooma and the scum who peddle it, as she puts it. Rena, a few other rough sleepers in Bravil and several members of the Thieves Guild know.

Ushwei was once loyal to the king of Black Marsh but questioned why more wasn’t being done to help Argonians outside of their home province. While it annoyed him that he typically got a cryptic answer about how any Argonian from outside Black Marsh was a traitor he still loyally served. Until one day a group of Dunmer refugees, a child among them, was caught trying to cross over to Cyrodiil through Black Marsh due to a lack of regulations of Imperial authority on it’s borders. The king spun a tale about how they were spies of the Great Houses and ordered them all executed. Despite his pleas for mercy, Ushwei was ignored and resigned as the king’s bodyguard, claiming he didn’t want to serve a monarch who cowered at the sight of a little girl. Brand-Shei, Madesi, Sonaire, Horoth and Derormr know what happened.

Veesk was always ostracized, so she basically grew up very bitter but once she learned of the Shadowscales, made it her mission to seek out the Dark Brotherhood. Riraisa and the rest of the Dark Brotherhood know.

Enron used to be an optimistic soldier in the Aldmeri Dominion army during the Great War unfortunately, the deaths of his parents and friends, among them the love of his life.  As well as his participation in atrocities absolutely broke him. He grew to hate the Dominion because of this, which was only exacerbated by his superior’s flippant attitude towards his loved one’s deaths. However, he saw his desertion as the first step towards redemption and decides to dedicate his life to helping people. Yaznakh, Kayesek and Lydia know.

Sonaire saw her husband killed by hired thugs sent after her and her spouse by her father, who had planned to marry her off to someone else. Coincidentally, she was rescued by members of another bandit group who were rivals of the thugs that invaded her home. One of them, an Orc named Guro, taught her everything she knew about how to fight. She stayed with the bandit group until they were dismantled due to numerous factors. She later joins the Ebonheart Company, though they don’t find out about her past until much later.

Horoth, as a Dunmer raised on Solstheim, was quite xenophobic to outsiders. The feelings of resentment against Argonians he was taught also fed into this. However, after he was helped out by Ushwei, he started to become a bit more open-minded and even grew to have a great respect for both Ushwei and Derormr. Sonaire, Ushwei and Derormr know.

Riraisa’s change was purely accidental, where she was from, due to the events of the Red Year and Argonian Invasion she was taught to never harm a child, anyone who dared to do so were to be given the most severe punishments. After fleeing from town guards as she unwittingly made herself an accomplice to a serial killer, she arrived in Riften. Hoping to find work in the orphanage, she came across Grelod abusing the children in her care, next thing she knew, she’d slashed the old hag’s throat open. She was later kidnapped by Astrid and was inducted into the DB. Veesk and the rest of the DB knows.

Thalas’s parents were nationalistic Bosmer who despised the Aldmeri Dominion, one night after a heated debate during a political trip with several Thalmor representatives. They were set upon by Thalmor agents. She survived the encounter as she was hunting for food to return to her parents at the camp they set up. Thus her vendetta against the Dominion began.

Athasai lost his wife, son and daughter to a vampire. A pure-blooded Bonmasu who charmed his way into the hunting community Athasai belonged to. On the 20th of Evening Star (Molag Bal’s summoning day), the vampire revealed himself along with a coven of other vampires. After killing his family, the same vampire fed off Athasai, though he had already drank blood from each member of Athasai’s family, meaning he didn’t take enough to kill Athasai and inadvertently turned him into a pure-blood Bonmasu. He turned from a mild-mannered hunter into a ruthless avenger, hellbent on tracking down the vampire that ruined his mortal life. Serana, Alusati, Ingda and Ra’thri-Dar know.

[storyunrelated]

Proper Schooling: Valentine’s

Gasp! Proper Schooling stuff!

It's dumb, mostly. Mostly mostly. Mostly I'm using these little...bits as exercises in trying to pin down what I want from these two.

The idea in this particular one came from me reading, uh, some fanfic or other and they mentioned the idea of the cruel game which is mentioned in here and I found the idea so unbelievable I wanted to put it in. So I did. I didn't make the best use of it, and I still find it unbelievable.

But there you go. Big wodge of words.

Through no fault of their own Olivia and Andrew had had a run of showing up late for lessons. The reasons for these delays varied and were usually brushed aside as ‘excuses’ despite being perfectly valid explanations for being late. Building collapse. Fire. Sludge monster. These were things that had happened and had caused them to be anywhere up to five minutes later. The teachers cared not and they suffered accordingly.

Because of this they had decided to make a conscious effort to get to lessons early, in the hopes of arriving at them on time.The first lessons to benefit from this new approach of theirs was a maths lesson and they set off together with high-hopes, ignoring the sudden flurry of snow that started as they left Wrackit Block and which only got heavier the further along they went. They likely should have paid it more attention.

An unfortunate combination of poor weather and even poorer lesson planning meant that when they arrived the classroom was empty of both other pupils, the teacher and (somehow) a considerable amount of the furniture. This wouldn’t have been so bad for them had the weather not immediately worsened on their arrival, cutting off all routes of escape for them and barring access to anyone else. Things went from a little chilly with a few flakes to foot upon foot of impenetrable drifts in seconds. So it was just them now, until they cleared the snow or the snow stopped coming down. Whichever came first.

Olivia was by the windows. What she hoped to see was anyone’s guess. The snow outside made it like staring at a brick wall, only worse, because at least with a wall you could count the bricks if you were feeling bored. This was just swirling whiteness that made her eyes water. Her options were limited enough that this seemed like the best thing to do.

Sometimes - though she couldn’t be sure if she was imagining it or not - the snow would clear enough for her to be able to see what looked like Drudges struggling with shovels and some very large, plough-bearing machine that seemed to be refusing to start. It would explain the inordinate amount of muffled swearing she could hear even above the wind outside. Nice to know someone was working on it, too. She wondered if the Drudges were still cold in those big suits of theirs. She imagined they were and for a moment felt a little sorry for them.

“What’s the date today?” Olivia asked out of nowhere, breaking the silence that had previously been filling the classroom. The classroom was also cold, and a tiny missing chunk in one of the other windows meant a constant stream of snowflakes were falling and melting in one particular stop in the middle. Neither of them cared about this.

“The fourteenth of February,” Andrew said without a moment’s hesitation. Boy was like a calendar. Also like a compass, an encyclopedia and a stepladder (if the situation called for it).

“Valentine’s day…”

Despite being a daunting dimension of academic neglect and all-round unpleasantness, pretty much every major holiday and day of note was exactly the same as the one Olivia was used to back home. This was handy, even if it made her head hurt if she thought about it for too long. Andrew said it wasn’t worth worrying about, but that didn’t stop her from time to time. That sort of thing was just too stupid to let go easily.

Valentine’s day though. That made her gut clench.

She wandered back across the mostly-empty classroom to where Andrew was sitting, dragging a chair with her part of the way she could slump down on the opposite side of the desk he was on. Andrew had felt the best use of his time trapped in the classroom was to find something and dismantle it, so that was exactly what he’d started doing and what he was still doing when Olivia sat across from him. What it had been before he’d got his hands on it was unclear, but now it was just parts.

“Have you ever been in a relationship?” She asked. Andrew did not look up from what he was doing, but then again she hadn’t really expected him to.

“I am going to assume you mean a romantic relationship. The answer would then be ‘no’,” he said, squinting as he undid a particularly tiny screw. He carried tools for this sort of thing with him everywhere, Olivia had learnt, and usually in a place no-one would find if they wanted to search him. She hadn’t probed him too deeply on this. Make of that sentence what you will.

“Any particular reason?” She asked.

“Why would I need a reason?” Andrew asked, genuinely unaware of why he might need a reason. Olivia tried to think of one for him but his response had been so blunt it took the words out of her mouth and left her grasping at nothing. This gave him an opportunity to ask:

“I take it you have, then?”

“Two. Maybe two. Mostly just one.”

“Given the subjective nature of romantic relationships I imagine it is hard to be any more specific than that?” Andrew asked, picking up a component and blowing on it. What this did was unclear, as he didn’t seem any happier after doing it and put it down with all the rest. Olivia gave him a look.

“You really don’t know much about this, do you?” She asked. He shrugged.

“I’m aware of some technical aspects but on the whole, no. It’s not something that concerns me much and it doesn’t really have to. Some people have told me that this is a weakness or a bad thing but they’ve never really been able to explain to me why this is.”

“I guess it’s just the way you’re put together.”

“Basically. I am content though, so I’m not sure where the issue is. I take it Valentine’s day has stirred some memory or other in you, prompting you to ask me?”

“Yes. No. Sort of. It just made me think of something which made me think of something.”

“That has been known to happen.”

Olivia waited for Andrew to say anything after this that she could use as something to keep talking. He said nothing. She had expected this, but had sort of been hoping that today might have been the day he’d surprised her. It wasn’t and she sighed, rubbing her temples. Andrew was more of a person you talked at then a person you talked with.

“I haven’t had many good Valentine’s days, and I’ve had at least one very bad one,” she said, promptingly.

“Days can vary in quality,” he said. Olivia gave up.

“I’m going to tell you something, okay?” She asked. Andrew nodded.

“There was a game that some of the girls used to play. The popular girls, I should say, not all the girls. They would, ah - would pick out one of the boys and would start stringing him along. Subtly hinting they might want to go out, you know? Without saying anything, of course. Just little things. The kind of affection that they wouldn’t be used to, the kind it was easy for them to fake without thinking. And they would let that build and build until it got to a point that the boy would open himself up to her. If he did this in public the girl would deny everything - loudly - and mock the boy for him making assumptions like that. Lonely boys, usually. Or lonely girls, if they knew they’d respond. But they only did it with the girls once or twice. Definitely at least twice. Uh, yeah..” Olivia said, distantly.

Andrew considered this, chewing it over in his head, mouth working silently as he ran through this unfamiliar concept. Evidently it did not pass muster as he shook his head and looked at her for the first time in the whole conversation.

“No. No sorry I can’t really see that happening I’m afraid. Just seems like a lot of work for very little payout. Doesn’t seem believable to me,” he said. It was a truly foreign concept to Andrew on a very basic level. Certainly, he’d never heard about anything like it happening either here or back at the Academy either, and Andrew usually prided himself on hearing about unpleasant schemes fairly quickly.

“I can tell you first-hand that it happened,” Olivia said, the distance in her tone replaced with considerable bitterness. Andrew looked at her blankly. Bitterness was not something he was capable of picking up on without assistance and it passed him by without a murmur.

“How very bizarre. Then again I do suppose you come from a different world entirely. A world of nightmares and cruelty, from the sound of things.”

This was the very height of richness given where Andrew lived and what happened there. Just yesterday she’d seen a teacher staple a pupil to the wall through his jacket for not synchronising his eyelids properly when he blinked. But on this particular point Olivia didn’t feel the need to call him out on it. The cruelty here was at least so over the top and random it had a certain charm and flair. It held a curious lack of obvious malice, despite everything that happened. Back home it was just callous. The girls had done it to get a reaction, because they could. She rather wished she hadn’t brought any of this up at all. Bit late now.

“It wasn’t fun. To see. It wasn’t fun to see it happen. From up close,” Olivia said.

“I bet,” Andrew said, doing a fine job of missing the blindingly obvious while also completely failing to notice that Olivia was now quite upset. “And this has what to do with Valentine’s day, exactly? Or am I failing to grasp something quite blatant?” He was, as previously stated. Olivia glared at him. Subtlety was getting her nowhere.

“It happened to me,” she said.

“Oh. Why didn’t you say?”

“I thought I was dropping enough hints,” she said through gritted teeth.

“You were? What was I supposed to do with them?” He asked and Olivia was filled with the type of crushing despair you got when your only point of contact in a world that wasn’t your own was a boy who understood the words you were speaking but nothing of what you were actually saying. Folding her arms on the desk in front of her she flopped, defeated.

Outside in the cold and the wind the Drudges had turned their shovels onto the plough vehicle in the hopes of coaxing it into life. It withstood this abuse with patience, waiting for its moment. When it came, it unexpectedly lurched forward and smeared several inattentive Drudges across the snow. This amused the plough greatly, and sent the rest scattering. It also destroyed its engine and rendered the vehicle finally, utterly dead. It was later burnt on a pyre as an example to the others and also to keep some of the Drudges warm. Inside and in the present, Olivia and Andrew did not know about any of this.

Silence filled the room again as Olivia - the only one with any real reason to talk - lost all stomach to do so. The memories that had boiled up within her were not overwhelmingly pleasant ones and she had rather been hoping for a sympathetic ear into which she could pour herself. Given that the only ears she had valiable were Andrew’s she knew she should have known better.

Still. Now that she felt awful there wasn’t much use in sitting and bottling it all back up again. That way madness lay, she well knew. If nothing else Andrew could be a sponge for her. Certainly, he wasn’t going to complain. She stirred from her slump.

She wasn’t going to bother giving him the whole thing from start to finish. It was doubtful he would fully appreciate hearing about the tentative starts of conversation with someone she’d never thought would even notice her. How the tentative start had grown gradually to become something Olivia poured herself into every moment she could and which ultimately culminated - thanks to the date being so close - in her deciding that a nice, romantic gesture on Valentine’s day would be a pleasant surprise well-received. It hadn’t been. Olivia grimaced.

Andrew would not have understood any of it even she’d told him anyway.

“It wasn’t all bad, though…” She said, rubbing her eyes.

“As if often the way of things,” Andrew said and Olivia just ignored this and continued.

“There was a girl - Polly. She’d had the same thing happen to her, I must have missed it. But we, uh, got to talking and we hit it off. We had fun, for a bit. Didn’t last but it wasn’t a bad thing. Just ended mutually, you know? Two people acknowledging that they’re better off as friends and that it’s happier that way. You know?” She looked at Andrew. He did not know. Whatever he was fiddling with while staring dumbly back at her snapped in his fingers and he glanced down.

“Drat,” he said.

A sudden gust of ferocious wind blew a pane of glass clean out of one of the window frames and sent it whizzing across the room to shatter against a wall. This made Olivia jump and she whirled around in her chair. Other than this though nothing else seemed to be happening. More snow was piling up inside the classroom but that was about it. Andrew hadn’t even flinched. She wondered how long it would take for her to end up like that. The thought didn’t make her especially happy. This place had already taken more from her than she would have liked.

“Anyway. That’s why I don’t really have any warm of fuzzy feelings about Valentine’s day,” Olivia said on turning back in her seat, fully aware that at no-point had anyone suggested she had fuzzy feelings about anything. She just felt that the blanket assumption was that everyone - barring the occasion love-hating sourpuss like her - liked Valentine’s day even if they didn’t admit it. What she based this on was unclear. Societal pressure, perhaps.

“I think you’re focusing on the wrong parts of this anecdote,” Andrew said, prodding the broken pieces of whatever had just snapped. Olivia’s eyes silently whacked onto him with a furious force. An intangible force agreeably, but had anyone else been watching her they would have felt it. This was a sore spot for her, after all.

“What?”

“You seem far more concerned with the malicious actions of the popular girls then with the positive period that followed. What makes a girl popular, by the way? Is it something they have to work at?”

“Hey, I’m not downplaying Polly, okay? I really liked her. We weren’t together-together long but it was great and she’s a good friend of mine now, yeah? I just - I’m talking to you about this thing and it was real bad what they did to me! And every time I see the date roll around again it just reminds me of what happened!”

“It does sound unpleasant,” Andrew said in a way that suggested he thought this was what he was supposed to say. That was because he thought this was what he was supposed to say.

Arguing about an unhappy Valentine’s day in a freezing-cold room while a blizzard happened outside was not really how Olivia had planned on spending her day. Then again at no-point in any of her planning had she considered waking up in Bowport Wood, so maybe planning was a waste of time in the first place. Certainly it never seemed to make much difference to what happened to her here.

The surviving Drudges outside had been reinforced with new arrivals and had, after working up the courage to approach it, set fire to the plough vehicle. In a final act of spiteful revenge it waited until they’d huddled around it for warmth before allowing the flames to lick downwards into its fuel tank at which point it promptly exploded and killed them all. It had always been a spiteful machine. The Drudges should really have known this, and had no-one to blame but themselves.

“Unpleasant? You’ve never done anything like it, have you?” Olivia asked.

“Nope,” Andrew said, bluntly. He hadn’t.

“They humiliated me! In front of everyone! Well, not everyone - but a lot of people, okay? A lot of people saw what they did. And they all laughed, too. Some of them filmed it. Filmed it! They knew what was going to happen and they let it happen. Because they enjoyed it. All of them.”

“Except for this one person. Pulley? No, Polly. Sorry. It seems you’re doing yourself some damage by choosing to focus on the negative here rather than the ultimately positive outcome that followed.”

“I’m not - I’m not choosing to focus on the negative! It was negative! It made me feel bad! You can’t just choose things like that! It happened and I felt something!” Olivia was dangerously close to hammering a fist on the desk at this point.

Andrew shrugged again, a gesture he was unaware was perfectly calibrated to infuriate anyone who saw it.

“Men are disturbed, not by things, but by the principles and notions which they form concerning things. If you stop feeling bad about something you won’t feel bad about it. It will continue to have happened, yes, but it will have no more hold over you. Just takes practise,” he said.

“That - what? Not everyone is like you, Andrew.”

“I just don’t think they’re trying hard enough.”

Olivia accepted complete and utter defeat and sank back onto her arms.

“There is one girl, actually,” Andrew said eventually, breaking the silence again. Olivia’s ears pricked up and her head raised ever so slightly so she could peer at him.

“What?” She asked.

“She claims I’m her boyfriend. I’ve never actually met her. She’s said to have very impressive eyebrows. There are things I’ve heard about her. Would she count?” He asked. Olivia’s ears pricked back down again and she sunk onto her folded arms.

“No, that doesn’t count,” she said. This did raise a considerable number of further questions but she was in no mood to ask those ones right now. They would be exhausting, she just knew it. Andrew didn’t seem concerned either way.

“If you say so,” he said, laying his screwdriver down and regarding all the little bits and pieces he now had spread out in front of him. The broken ones were in a pile off to the side. Olivia peeked out at all this as well, albeit through a curtain of hair.

“What are you dismantling anyway? What is this?”

“It was, I believe, something to do with the information infrastructure of the building. A router maybe? Or a regulator. I’m not sure. Bowport Wood has some odd technology in it I must admit. I just thought it might contain something useful I could use to upgrade your implant. How is it handling the cold, by the way?”

Olivia stiffened and sat up, adjusting her jacket and her shirt. Even then the slightly awkward, lumpy shape beneath it still tented the fabric. She didn’t want to touch it because it made her skin crawl even thinking about it being there.

“It was fine until you mentioned it…” She said with a grimace. Andrew just nodded.

“One of those things. If you feel anything you consider worrying you tell me and I’ll see if I can do anything about it.”

Olivia still had difficulty accepting the fact that her heart had apparently been removed - or partially removed, as Andrew always reminded her - but that she had been saved from death by one boy and the replacement heart he just happened to have lying around. Which he’d installed on his own. With no formal training. In the rooms he’d carved out of an abandoned boarding block that sat in the least reputable side of a school larger than most towns.

All of this was just that sort of thing that sat in the corner of her head making her think this was all a lengthy, unpleasant dream. She knew it wasn’t though, because her dreams would never, ever have been as stupid as this. Still, it was nice to imagine sometimes that she might just wake up and get back to normality.

“Course,” she said. Adding: “Thanks.”

Further conversation was forestalled by a mournful cry carried into the classroom on the wind. Olivia’s eyes widened. That hadn’t been one of the normal screams she sometimes heard.

“Ah. The ice-men cometh. They’re far South for this time of year,” Andrew said, as if this kind of thing was normal. Of course, he knew about the breach of the Watford Gap and the associated nasties that had pushed down into the heartlands only to be cut-off and left behind, while Olivia did not. It was unclear whether knowing any of this would have made her happier, but odds looked slim.

“What was that?” Olivia asked.

“Yetis. Or snow-men. They have a name for themselves you can’t pronounce it with a warm mouth. This blizzard might be their doing, come to think of it. Would explain how sudden it was. They’re here to reclaim the snow.”

Olivia was set to start feeling justified in choosing to panic when she actually ran through what Andrew had just said. It was too obtuse to allow for thinking about anything else and brought her worry to an abrupt, crashing halt.

“If it’s their blizzard why would they send it just to reclaim it?” She asked. Andrew shrugged.

“Who are we to fathom the motivations of yetis? Anyway, we need some heat or else they might come in here. Help me wrap this wire.”