#and i keep getting chests with coal and topazes

[lizzy-frizzle]

We started a farm in Stardew valley for the house, and my girlfriend is the person who goes into the mines, and my wife is the farmer/forager, and I'm the dedicated fisher

But they keep asking me to do things and I'm always just like, "nope, I'm already fishing, gotta catch the fish."

I'm just a definition "fish fear me, women fear me, I'm swimming in the river catching fish with my teeth" gremlin woman

[knybits]

A Murder of One

Chapter: 

2

Summary: 

The New Year comes, and Akiko mourns with a new incentive in mind. Akiko remembers to find solace within another person, but she continues to drown in her thoughts. 

Previous Chapter | Origin | Next Chapter

“You better get your daughter under control!” 

“She’s your granddaughter!” 

“Hiratsuka… Let’s retire for the night, plea...”

Akiko hears no more as she slams the front entrance shut, tears streaming down her face like a broken dam. Her eyes shine under the house’s entrance lamp and she can hear the mention of topaz.

Villagers stop for a moment to whisper about Akiko before she shoots them a glare. They jump slightly before rushing off, continuing their gossip over why Akiko has returned from Tokyo wearing such mournful garb. 

It’s hard for Akiko to breath, and she’s freezing on this New Year’s night. 

“God this sucks,” She grumbles out, trudging down the streets of the village, drenching her poor choice of footwear with snow. 

Every time she looks up, she sees traces of herself with Tanjirou, and she blames her cursed eyes. 

The two giggling and laughing as they try to convince villagers to buy some coal. 

The two giggling and laughing as they share a bowl of udon they worked so hard to earn. 

The two giggling and laughing as they play with some stray cat. 

Akiko shuts her eyes from the world for a moment, hugging herself close to retain some heat as her tears freeze the minute she produces them. They hurt her face, but, as cliche as it sounds, Akiko finds that the pain in her chest is more unbearable. 

“Oh! S’that you Akiko?” A voice calls out. Akiko looks to her side to find that it’s one of the kinder villagers, older with a face more worn with worry over the constant need for money. 

“Baa-chan,” Akiko greets, but the villager frowns at her tone of voice. 

“C’mon in hun. I’ll make you some toshi-koshi soba, hm?” 

Akiko  is ushered in despite her feeble protests, but what’s she gonna do? 

Freeze? 

She can only hope. 

Baa-chan quickly fans the flames of the fire before scooping some broth into another bowl, dropping some mochi and buckwheat noodles. She forces Akiko to take off her wet socks before leaving them close to the fire place, then slides the bowl of toshi-koshi soba over to the girl. 

Akiko’s face warms as she places it over her steaming bowl, attempting to smile for baa-chan. 

“Do y’need ‘nother blanket? Your socks’ll take a while to dry by the fire, but I have spare ones if y’like. Your toes ’r so blue!” 

Akiko winces, reminded of the blue scarf she knitted Tanjirou for Christmas once. 

Though not a Japanese holiday, Akiko wanted to get him a present anyway. 

She stuffs her face with the soba, shaking the memory from her mind in respect for baa-chan. 

Akiko is wordlessly given seconds, and she really doesn’t want to eat, but the look baa-chan gives her is enough for Akiko to give up. Her stomach crawls at the thought of actually putting food into her mouth, but Akiko can’t tell if it’s out of joy or disgust. 

She hasn’t been able to stomach anything as of late, but that might be because she hates the Tamura manor. Traces and memories of Tanjirou linger within the manor, and the thought of him reminds Akiko of the rotting house and the puddles of blood. 

Nevertheless, she’s hasn’t eaten all week, and her grandma isn’t around. Baa-chan is far nicer, and it’s New Years after all. 

“Care to explain why you’s walkin through this snow at night?” Baa-chan interrupts Akiko, who hesitates a few seconds before slurping the rest of her soba. 

“Was it your grandma?” 

The face Akiko makes is enough of an answer, but she provides a verbal one anyway. 

“I told her to shut up after she kept bad mouthing Tanjirou and I,” Is Akiko’s simple reply, but saying his name is enough for her to choke up. She swallows the ball in her throat, but baa-chan offers Akiko a handkerchief to cry into for the third time. 

Baa-chan collects Akiko’s bowl before sighing, “You may not want t’hear this right now, but the villagers’ve been talking, so this one’s got information.” Akiko blows her nose in a highly unladylike fashion, to which baa-chan smirks at. 

City life, huh.

“Villagers say the Kamado family was killed by a man with a blue katana, scruffy black hair tied back into a low ponytail, y’know? His eyes are blue, but the most distinct part about him’s the two patterned haori. One side red ‘n the other orange ‘n green. He was spotted round the house some time near the murder, but those’r  just rumors dear.” 

Baa-chan looks over at Akiko, who has been eerily quiet the whole time. Not a muscle moving, but her face shadowing over with a look that baa-chan has never seen on Akiko’s usual joyous face. 

“...Dear?” 

“Thank you for the meal, baa-chan. I have to go home now.” 

“O-Okay. Warm your toes up at home, alright?” 

“Happy new year.” 

 “Happy new year dear. Any plans for the new year?” 

Akiko slips her getas on, her socks left by the fire side. She pauses for a minute before carelessly  smiling back at baa-chan. 

“Mourn, I guess?” 

--- 

“Mama! Papa! I wanna go shop!” 

Hiratsuka and Ray look down at their little daughter, who pouts and stomps all over the new manor in Tokyo. 

“Ah, Akiko please stop. You’re ruining the new house already!” Hiratsuka frets over her little girl, and Ray swoops her up into his arms with a laugh. 

“Now why does my princess want to shop, hm?” 

“I wanna go with the maids! Food!” 

“Sentences, dear.” 

Akiko screams in her father’s arms, struggling to roll out, but Ray has a tight grip on her to prevent her from cracking her head open on the floor. Or, that’s what he’s trying his best to prevent (worst case scenario for a parent-wise). 

“I’ve been here all week! I wanna see Tanjirou! I don’t wanna go to some stupid school with other stupid boys! Let me go outside! I’m a big girl now, right?! Eight is big!!!” Akiko screams and kicks again and the exhausted couple sighs in defeat. 

“Mika, take Akiko shopping with you please.” Ray calls out, and Mika steps forward with a calm smile. 

Akiko is gently put down and Mika brushes the imaginary dust off of Akiko’s western styled dress, all frilly and poofy like. 

Ray crouches down next to Akiko, a hand on her shoulder.

“Now don’t get lost, okay? Stay by Mika and listen to her-” 

—-

“I’M LOST!!!!” 

Akiko cries by the side of the road, suddenly caught within a sea of strangers that brush by her without a second glance. 

There’s snot running down her nose and she’s gripping the hem of her dress, crocodile tears bubbling down her cheeks. 

She keeps hiccuping, wiping whatever fluids run down her face with her cotton sleeves and quickly ruining her dress. But she stays where she is, knowing that it’s her best chance at getting home quickly. 

“Are you okay?” A sweet voice brings Akiko’s attention up from the floor. 

The stranger’s hair is pink, reminding Akiko of the cotton candy she had at a circus in England a while ago. 

Akiko slowly shakes her head no, fumbling with the ends of her dress and pouting at the floor, trying her hardest to contain her tears. She wants Tanjirou to be here, holding her hand and reassuring her that things will turn out alright. 

The girl crouches down to Akiko’s level, a bright smile on her face as she offers Akiko a rice ball with a plum in it. 

“Will this cheer you up?” 

Akiko blankly stares at the rice ball, sniffling a few times before snatching the rice ball and stuffing it in her dress pocket. 

“What the-“ 

“It’s for my fiance,” Akiko says. 

“...Wouldn’t you rather eat it now?” 

“No.” 

“...Come with onee-chan, yeah?” 

So Akiko takes the girl’s hand, waddling through the crowded streets of Tokyo with her new ‘big sister.’ 

Akiko doesn’t say much during the walk, her mind blank as she tightly grips the girl’s fingers. 

She sees that they’re cut up and calloused, a bit dirty but that doesn’t bother Akiko considering her own hands are covered in snot and tears. 

“My name’s Kanon! How about you?” 

“Akiko.” 

Kanon smiles wryly at the girl, a bit thrown off by her sudden emotionless nature, but decides that Akiko is probably trying to reset her emotions after getting lost. 

They walk a bit more before arriving in front of a big building, other people going in and out. There are a lot of foreigners, and Akiko notices a business partner or two of her father’s. 

“Welcome to my family’s inn! Don’t let go of onee-chan’s hand, okay?” 

Akiko nods, sniffling once more before allowing herself to be tugged into the inn. 

It’s lively, to say the least. 

Japanese and foreigners alike are milling around the lobby, talking and joking with each other and discussing other things. Some are eating japanese food while others are eating western food, and one has a plate of Indian curry in front of them! 

It’s not extravagant and Akiko doesn’t see a crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling like the hotel she stayed at in France, but it’s warm and Akiko likes how the atmosphere makes her feel. 

There are a few people by reception and well dressed men with women on their sleeves; what Akiko can identify as a busboy rushing down the stairs who takes notice of Kanon. 

“Ah! Kanon! You’re back!” He cries out, and Kanon ruffles his hair with her spare hand. 

The boy peeks from behind Kanon to look at Akiko, “Who’s this?” 

“She got lost, so I was gonna bring her into the kitchen and make her something. Bring me a map of Tokyo, wouldja?” 

Akiko is quiet as she follows Kanon into what seems to be the kitchen, where an older version of Kanon is working furiously. The little boy returns soon with a map, and Kanon thanks him before he’s off to work again. 

“So what’s your favorite food? Your onee-chan will cook you something good, yeah?” Kanon smiles, leaning across the steel counter. Akiko look up at the ceiling before replying. 

“Carrots.” 

“Huh?” 

“Carrots.” 

“...Onee-chan will try her best.” 

Akiko spends her time waiting by swinging her legs back and forth, staring at Kanon work with unblinking eyes. Kanon is bothered, but she won’t say so in fear that Akiko will burst into tears. 

A few minutes later, a plate of stew with a bunch of carrots is placed in front of Akiko to enjoy. 

Kanon waits for Akiko to start eating, hoping that it will be something that Akiko enjoys. 

“...I’m not allowed to eat something a stranger gives me.” 

“THAT’S WHERE YOU DRAW THE LINE?!” Kanon gives up, throwing her hands into the air in defeat. She collapses to the floor and Akiko finally cracks a smile. 

“But onee-chan’s stew is really really good!” 

Kanon brushes her pink hair from her face, processing Akiko’s happy expression as she quickly finishes her food, even going so far as to lick her plate clean. 

A soft smile makes its way onto her face before she stands, taking the map nearby and folding it out for Akiko to see. 

“Let’s get you home, okay Akiko?” 

—-

“Akiko!” Kanon, now 16, cries out before hugging the seemingly lifeless girl. 

Kanon hasn’t seen Akiko since the day Akiko left for the countryside in a hurry, forgetting the New Year plans the two had made. 

But with all the rumors going in and out of the inn (which houses a few of Ray’s business partners) Kanon knows that Akiko isn’t in the right state of mind after the death of her fiance. 

Her black kimono is proof of that fact. 

“It’s been months! Where have you been?” Kanon pulls away from the smaller girl, holding both her hands in her own. 

Akiko smiles weakly, “Sorry. I’ve been busy.” 

“But it’s March now! Have you been with your grandmother the whole time?” 

The guilty look is enough for Kanon to know, but Akiko musters enough courage to shake her head and tell her that she returned from the countryside a week after New Years. 

“I need time,” Is Akiko’s only other answer, and Kanon accepts it. 

Kanon leads the ginko eyed girl back into the kitchen, a bright smile on her face as she talks to Akiko about what’s been going on at the inn. Anything to get Akiko’s mind off of the incident, really. 

She’s cooking and Akiko’s listening, and while Akiko is at the inn, it feels like everything is normal and nothing could go wrong. 

Like nothing is wrong.

After some time, Akiko grows restless with her false sense of security and smiles weakly at Kanon, telling her that she should be on her way. 

Akiko has a cloth wrapped box of leftovers with her, the sky dark and the sea of lights illuminating the streets. Akiko stands out of the way of the other guests, waving Kanon good bye. 

“Get home safely, okay?” Kanon frowns with worry, reaching out to hold Akiko’s hand like usual. 

Her eyes widen with shock when Akiko quickly snatches her hand back, but the smile on Akiko’s face show as if there’s nothing wrong. 

“Mhm! Don’t worry, onee-chan. I’ll get home safe. Thanks for the food!” 

Kanon frowns before shaking her head, “You don’t get it Akiko. I’ve been hearing rumors of disappearances lately! I don’t want you to disappear, okay? Come back soon so we can talk some more!” 

Akiko smiles again before she’s off, and Kanon stares at the back of her best friend with worry. 

There’s a slight wobble in Akiko’s step, and her figure looks a lot frailer than before. Akiko’s lavish life doesn’t allow her to be as thin as all the other girls in Tokyo. 

But now? 

She’s nearly skin and bone, and there isn’t much Kanon can do to fix that. 

Akiko is doing this to herself. 

The grip on the box tightens as Akiko begins to think again, something she shouldn't really be doing these days. 

Her mind wanders now and everything around her becomes an absolute blur, faces passing by and voices intermixing with other voices. 

And the cycle repeats like the new broken record Akiko threw to the ground in a psychotic rage the other day. 

Maybe if she had begged her parents a little harder to go back to the countryside for the New Year, she could have prevented all of the deaths. 

Maybe if she had been there, she could have saved their lives with what small medical knowledge she has. 

Maybe if she studied harder. 

Maybe if she begged harder. 

Maybe if- 

“Tomioka-san? Is the demon near?” 

A butterfly pin floats past Akiko’s vision before her heart stops. 

“It should be right up ahead.” 

Dead navy eyes.

Black hair tied back into a ponytail. 

Blue katana. 

A two patterned haori.

Akiko’s liquid gold eyes stare right into the uncaring gaze of the man that killed her fiance. 

stranger danger akiko but whatever ig,,, let me cover up my shitty plot hole with a: her eyes tell her than kanao is a good person 

anyway thanks for waiting!! i actually wrote this a long time ago but ive been real shit with editting bc this chapter isnt as,,, difficult as the other ones and i still wanted to make sure it was entertaining ;-; 

but kanon is @kny-imagines‘s oc!! shes actually really important to the story despite the fact that i am NOT a fan of more than one ocs in a fic but uhm plz deal with my writing :,,) 

hope you guys stay tuned for the next update! idk when im gonna turn this story over to wattpad officially lmao 

[silverloreley]

WIP part 2

Continuation of my snippets of my Cave of the Golden Rose ff for @26ja (who is too nice fo words. Really, you’re great), under the cut.

2) I found they escaped the Volcano too easily, so I imagined one more obstacle to overcome on the way out. (Xellesia didn’t die in the Mouth).

If they had forgotten they were deep inside a volcano, the increasing heat was a heavy reminder, along with the red luminescence that came from the end of what looked like a long corridor. Elsa was sweating profusely, her head was dizzy and she had troubles seeing ahead, let alone walking in a straight line. The others weren't in better shape, but none had made the mistake of putting their hands on the scorching wall. She gasped, her magic coating the injured hand with ice, but she was too weak to keep it solid. She held her hand to her chest, falling behind in steps as the heat became unbearable. The group had now reached the end of the corridor, only to face a lake of lava. The ground fell inside of it, while high walls were all around, with no visible handholds. Huge coloured stones were scattered over the surface, some shined like blood diamonds, some of such dark coal that looked like a black hole was in their place and could have swallowed the incautious who set foot on them. More were of topaz, yellow tainted orange by the gleam of fire, others were of rubies, camouflaged in all but the reflective shine. «What do we do now?» Anjalika asked. «We skip on the stones, it's obvious» Parsel replied, then pointed at the other side, slightly on the right «See, the exit is there» «But which ones?» the princess wondered. «What do you mean?» Fantaghirò couldn't avoid asking. The stones were plenty and looked solid enough, so they had to be protected by magic. Anjalika shook her head and picked a small rock from the ground, throwing it at the closest stone, a golden topaz. The rock landed on the gem, only to turn into ashes in a second like made of paper. «A legend of my people talks about these paths» Anjalika explained «The jewels are magic, but only some allow to pass, while others are deadly. We need to know which ones are safe» Everybody turned on Xellesia, who looked up «I have no idea. When I was here the last time, there stood a bridge. And I can't distinguish the magic that prevents them from melting either» Tarabas shook his head «Neither do I» «We'll have to try them» Fantaghirò proposed. She took the Rock from her belt, but the grumpy stone reprimanded her. «Eeeh, what do you think? Have you seen what happened to that pebble? No way, I'm not going!» She had to put it away «Let's think about it» was the only suggestion. «The topaz goes in straight lines» Parsel noted. Fiodor pointed ahead «The rubies zig-zag and the diamonds make short lines» he traced the shapes in the air. «The onyx seems casual» the Black Witch offered. «Not quite» Anjalika opposed «They are in the form of the Yì Xiù, the Wings of the Vermilion Bird» «The constellation?» Parsel asked in disbelief «So what?» «We should follow the stars» Anjalika explained, then, without hesitation, she jumped, landing on a ruby «Five rubies first» she shouted and went on with the second. «Let's go» Fantaghirò urged. Only then she glanced behind, finally seeing the lump on the ground. «Elsa!» she shouted. Everyone but Parsel, who just made the first heap, turned in her direction. The blonde queen laid unconscious on the floor, her skin flushed and covered in sweat. The ice on the injured hand was just a molten speck and the shorter locks of her hair adhered to her face. «There's no time to wake her up, let's just leave her here» the Black Witch scoffed. «Selfish creature, how can you say so?» Fiodor retorted. «I say so because I don't want to die!» was the skittish reply. «Must be the heat» Fantaghirò ignored them both and tucked the blond locks away from the other woman's feverish face «We need to carry her somehow» «I'll do it» Tarabas offered, but Fiodor interposed. «Let me do it» the hunchback said «I'm stronger than I look» he assured and picked her up with the utmost gentleness. «If you fall because of the weight or you slip, it'll be the death of you both» «So'd be leaving her here. And death is preferable to life to me. The least I can do is making good use of this wretched body of mine» the once-king held on tighter on Elsa and limped to the border of the lake. Anjalika had stopped on the last ruby to see the scene. A surge of jealousy ate her alive when she saw Tarabas approach the blue figure of the Queen of Arendelle. Like the Black Witch, she was more than ready to let the useless queenie die, now even more so. How could one faint for just a bit of hot temperature? It wasn't as bad as some of the scorching days in her country, when water was at hand only inside the royal palace and nowhere was even remotely fresh. What a weakling! Let her die here! Only upon seeing Fiodor picking her up a bit of her unjust anger relented. «From there on, we go on the onyx» she instructed, forcing herself to go forward. Deep down, she knew her wishes were wrong, but she couldn't avoid calculating how much time she was making them waste. Three onyx stones. Tarabas was four steps behind, Parsel, the Black Witch and Fantaghirò in between. How she wished he was the one closer! Two diamonds on the left. Tarabas was helping his mother, not even looking at Anjalika's direction, nor anyone else's. Not even considering her moment of glory, how it was her studies and her sharp mind to allow their escape. Another diamond, on the right, then one straight ahead. Fiodor was on the track too, carrying the dead weight. Good, that was what servants were for. Two heaps on topaz to get to the ground in front of the opening. Parsel almost lost his balance and Fantaghirò pushed him back on track just in time. A gray archway never looked so good to the princess of Catai. She released a breath she didn't know was holding and waited impatiently for the others to arrive. 

[sserpente]

In a heartbeat (Chapter 13)

A/N: Heyho there my lovelies! Are you excited? I am! This is one of my favourite chapters. Have fun reading! ♥

Find all chapters on my masterlist!

“Loki…” Panicking, you turned to him and grabbed his arm, frantically shaking it. “Loki, what is…”

The God of Mischief pressed his lips together tightly. His brother had not spotted him yet and Loki made no advances whatsoever to help him out of his risky misery.

“I doubt he can beat my beloved champion but if he does… I will double your bounty.” The Grandmaster continued with a satisfied grin.

What? Your lips parted in shock as you began to tremble. Double his bounty?

Snarling, the scrappers dragged Thor around the corner until he was out of sight. He was barely conscious now and without his hammer… you had seen men made of stone today. What if…? Your sorrow for him was different from your fear of losing Loki but still, you were worried Thor might not survive this.

What had gone wrong? How had he been caught? Had Loki… not supplied him with access codes after all? When he had winked at you… he hadn’t exactly told you a lie but…

“Loki, what is all of this?!” You winced, keeping your voice low to not raise the Grandmaster’s suspicion. He was still close, talking to his most faithful Topaz.

“The reward for his capture will set me up nicely,” he answered equally quiet. Forgotten was your urge to pee. Loki had betrayed his own brother, again. He might as well stab you in the chest.

“I have told him I would want to stay here on Sakaar. I have already risked my life once and for what? Hela is more powerful than ever. It is about time Thor too realises that Asgard is lost.”

“You told me you were going to help him! You promised me you were gonna bring me home!” You yelled, your composure forgotten as hot tears worsened your sight and made you forget everything around you, the God of Mischief turning into a black dot before you.

“Shhh!” Loki hissed quietly.

“You lied to me.” You whispered, crying freely now. With a start, you remembered what he had told you the night you had asked him about his brother’s mission.

“What changed your mind?”

“A very interesting conversation,” he had replied and you, naïve and stupid, had believed he meant the conversation he had held with you, instead… instead he had been talking about his ridiculous chat with the Grandmaster.

“You are a fool if you thought I would not.” Loki said severely, his blue gaze never leaving yours. Sobbing, you wiped a few of your tears from your cheeks, noticing with dismay that your black make-up had smeared. You were a mess. A complete and utter mess. How could you have been so blind?

Why, it was almost funny! You knew what they all said about Loki, knew of all the warnings they whispered to each other and yet, you had blindly let your feelings get the better of you. Feelings that, and this was the worst part, paired with devastating disappointment, had not changed in the slightest.

You still longed to be with this man, despite his betrayal. Despite the fact he had let you down. Knowing this caused even more salty tears to run down your cheeks and paint dirty streaks of black coal onto your skin.

“What about me?” You muttered breathlessly.

“I am sorry.”

Was he really? Sorry? Perhaps he was. Be careful what you wish for, your mother always said. You had wanted to be with Loki… and now you were going to be stuck with him on a strange planet, enjoying the reputation of a mere and silly pleasure slave for the rest of your life.

“Take me back to your apartment,” you begged, facing the ground as you did. Meeting his blue eyes—his beautiful blue eyes—again right now… it would tear you apart. “I don’t want to stay here.”

Loki slightly shook his head. “We cannot leave now. I placed a large wager against Thor. The Grandmaster counts on my presence.”

“Then bring me back and enjoy the rest of this ridiculous and brutal show alone!” This time, the Grandmaster turned his head. Whether he had heard your exact words, you did not know but even if he did, Loki would talk his way out of it. He always did, after all. The famous silver tongue that deceived them all… including you.

“Your slave is raising her voice against you? Tsk,” Topaz shook her head in a disgusted manner. “Perhaps you didn’t train her as well as you thought you have.”

Loki gave her an embarrassed smile. “Maybe not,” he muttered under his breath. It was then you scoffed and kicked him in the shin, eliciting a silent grunt from him—your second mistake.

Tilting his head threateningly, he narrowed his blue eyes at you and then jerked you forward by wrapping his hand firmly around your upper arm. It hurt. You could already feel the bruises forming as he dragged you through the hallway, making sure the Grandmaster and Topaz saw how he treated you in response to your boldness. You didn’t blame him for it; they didn’t know the truth—to them, it had to seem like Loki was angry at you for your actions when in reality… you were angry with his.

“You promised!” You bellowed as soon as he had closed the vast door forming the entrance to his apartment. “You promised you would get me home! Do you have any idea how homesick I am? What it means for me to be stranded here? I’m all alone, nobody understands me and all Thor cares about is overpowering that stupid goddess of death!”

“I know!” Loki yelled back, leaning forward slightly. You had never seen him this agitated. “I saw you crying the day we left for Helheim, (Y/N)!”

You wanted to strangle him. I will make sure to keep an eye on you. He thought you were desperate to get away from here. You were, of course… but Loki saw only half the picture. He was as blind as you. Blind enough to betray you.

“You promised.” You repeated, your voice shaking. “You promised me!!!”

Electricity shocks were rippling through your body, rational brain cells exploding and shattering to a million pieces—just like your heart. A desperate scream escaped your lips when you bolted forward, throwing wild and uncontrolled punches at him.

Breathing heavily, you clenched your fists, swinging at his chest repeatedly. Again, again, again and again until Loki snatched your wrists and forced you to think.

You traded your boiling wrath with fresh tears as fast as the numbing anger had come over you. Next thing you knew, your cheek collided with his body as you wrapped your arms around him, crying rivers against his muscly body.

Maybe he just couldn’t help himself? Maybe this was what he was? Constantly condemned to live up to his mischievous reputation? His arms around you were soothing. For a couple of minutes, you just stood there in silence as he stroked over your hair and held you tightly, comforting you.

His embrace was so calming. Just like the day you had woken up in his hug, you couldn’t believe this was the man who had brought death and destruction over New York—or the man who had sold his own brother as a gladiator.

What was happening to you? How could you forgive him? Were you… were you really in love? Loki had disappointed you and here you were, clinging onto him as if your life depended on it.

“You’re all I have left,” you sobbed out of breath, your own words scaring you shitless when you spoke them out loud and you realised… they were true. You trusted Loki. “Don’t let me down.”

The God of Mischief sighed—surprised and taken aback by your vulnerable confession and for the first time in the history of humanity… he didn’t know what to say.

He settled for a simple, gentle “Go to sleep, little minx.”

“You’ll leave if I do.”

“I have to go back. But I promise I will join you later.” There it was again. I promise.

Taking a deep breath, you fought the last of your tears and wiped your cheeks to dry them. “How can I believe you?”

You knew the answer of course. You couldn’t. You had to. You had no other choice.

“Have I not kept you safe?” Loki finally said. His dark voice was but a whisper, yet every single sound that escaped his lips cursed through your body like adrenaline. All you managed was a nod in response. He was caressing you with a tender gaze—his blue eyes sparkling—when you finally pulled away and started at the bed as calmly and composed as you could muster.

Loki watched until you had slid under the covers as if to make sure you did as you were told, then, with a final nod and one last, thoughtful look, he left the apartment.

The sleepless night announced itself by the clock striking midnight. Sighing sadly, you shifted on the soft mattress and buried yourself under the covers, missing Loki’s warmth next to you, his arms around your waist, keeping any harm away from you.

He still hadn’t returned, your twisted thoughts imagining him drinking, dancing and celebrating with a bunch of beautiful young women the Grandmaster paid to seduce him. Real pleasure slaves that would actually satisfy his… primal needs. Like a lightning bold, the image of Valkyrie kissing him returned to you and struck you like a painful slap in the face.

You’d much rather willingly become his whore if only it meant you would never have to see something like that ever again.

Another sigh escaped your lips as you turned to the other side to hug Loki’s pillow. It smelled like him—leather, firewood and molten metal—and if you closed your eyes tightly… you could imagine it was actually him.

It was then you heard a silent “psss”, followed by a creaking door. Loki? Was he back? Why would he… hiss?

“(Y/N)? Are you here?” Valkyrie breathed.

[araeph]

Defiance, Part 8

[Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7]

Summary: Katara never thought she’d take shelter from the Water Tribe in the Fire Nation. Zuko never thought he’d build a life with someone he is only supposed to be seeing for fun. And neither one knows just how close their countries are to self-destruction.

[For Zutara month, Day 8, “Spice”] 

Katara prided herself on her swimming skills, but the eelhound certainly would give her a run for her money, even including waterbending. It’s a shame they’re cold-blooded, she thought as her ride zipped across the open water toward the heart of the Fire Nation. Dad would love to speed through the ocean like this!

She clung with her knees, the way she remembered doing as a girl when she was still small enough to ride the penguins. Everything from her waist down was below the water line, but the ocean was so warm here, it would have been enjoyable even if she weren’t inured to the cold. By and by, she sneaked a glance at the Blue Spirit, as he apparently preferred to be called. His attention was fixed on guiding the eelhound, though one hand still lay steady on her waist. They were definitely making good time, but there was no reason for her not to help out a bit.

Bringing her hands out to the sides, she made a scooping motion and plunged them into the water. Every few seconds, she repeated the gesture on either side of her.

A stifled laugh vibrated from the Blue Spirit’s chest. Katara couldn’t blame him; it must look like she was trying to dog paddle her way to the main island.

“Having fun?” he asked.

She splashed him affectionately. “Someone has to.”

“Hey!” He spluttered. “You just had a run-in with pirates, and I narrowly escaped assassination. I’m already overdue back home, and you just lost—” he stopped himself. “I’m sorry.”

“I lost my scroll,” she finished resolutely. “And you know what else? It’s a beautiful sunny day, and I haven’t seen water so blue before, and I’m on the back of a creature I never thought I’d see in my life.” She patted the eelhound, who made a series of soft clicking noises in response. “Just because bad things happen to you doesn’t mean you can’t make a good life. And you are lucky enough to be riding with someone who can cook you the best fried sunfish you’ve ever tasted. Once we get to shore, I’ll get a fire started and then we’ll eat.”

He scoffed. “Yeah, after spending hours fishing. I can’t afford that.”

“Who said anything about hours?” She trailed a handful of dazzling clear drops behind the movement of her hand. “I’m Water Tribe, and there are boatloads of fish in these currents. I wouldn’t be a grown woman if I couldn’t provide a meal for us while we were on the move.” She broke the rhythm of her bending to tuck a hair back from where the breeze had blown it free. “Unless you have to leave right after we make landfall.”

A heavy sigh resonated through him and the arm holding the reins dropped slightly. “Unless you’re the fastest fisher I’ve ever seen, I’m going to have to pass on that.”

Katara turned her head away to hide a smirk. “Sounds like a challenge.”

***

Whatever she had expected the Fire Nation to be, this wasn’t it. Katara had built her dreams on visions of fiery lava spewing forth from volcanoes and a sky choked with ash, the way it had been in her homeland when the Raiders came. This … this was an alien land, but it wasn’t hostile. The sun was sharp and blazed along her skin wherever it touched her, but it was also gentled by the greenery which enclosed the inlet that their tiny sailboat bumped against when they reached the shore.

Katara lifted her face skyward. It was warm out, but also hazy. Water rested, untouched, in the air; water soaked into the clumpy black earth; water dripped from flower to flower in the form of dew and nectar. She was right, too: they’d made good time, and had an hour to spare in order to prepare their dinner.

As soon as his footsteps receded, Katara wrangled the first big fish she saw out of the water—a bright flailing sunfish that startled her with its iridescence. Then she whisked two smaller fish from the waves and dropped them at the eelhound’s feet, whispering to the creature to keep it a secret between them before she secured his harness to a nearby tree.

By the time she’d made it to the clearing he’d picked out, the Blue Spirit had coaxed a fire into life. He held out his hand for the fish, but Katara shook her head and insisted on cleaning it herself.

(“Unless you want your throwing knives to smell?”

“All right, all right!”)

The crackling fire provided more conversation than they did, at first. Between smooth, even strokes of her knife, Katara caught herself stealing looks at his mask, but didn’t know what to say to him. Is this where they parted ways? Thanks for saving me, off I go? There was so much more she wanted to know about him—and about why she had been able to see him, inside and out, with her waterbending under the moon.

Finally he interrupted her thoughts. “What was that?”

“What was what?”

“When you were yelling at me this morning. Look, I know my people have done some awful things to you and yours, but it was just so—out of the blue. Did I offend you or something?”

“Well, look who’s talkative all of a sudden,” she said without looking up. The lack of response told her he was still waiting. “It wasn’t you,” she admitted. “Really. It’s just that I’ve been put in a really difficult position lately, and maybe it wouldn’t have happened except that—you know.”

“Except the Fire Nation attacked.” Taking a heated flat stone from the fire, he held out his hand again and Katara slid the fish onto it gingerly. “I’ve heard it before. And we’re trying to make up for it. But it hasn’t been easy when no one will give us a chance.”

“What do you mean, like when?”

He shrugged. “The Earth Kingdom cities won’t let up on their rice tariffs. If we didn’t provide them with coal and oil, there would be mass starvation by now. The Air Nomads are gone, and no one’s been able to find a way to bring them back. Even the Avatar left us by never being reborn.” There was something wistful in his voice and Katara wondered where it had come from. “The Northern Water Tribe won’t stop hammering us for more reparations, and with no political inroads into the South, we have no way of knowing if they’re even reaching their intended recipients.” He scowled. “Maybe you have something to say about that?”

An ice-cold shiver went up her spine. “What reparations? I’ve never heard anything about them.”

“Well, you probably haven’t,” and she could just tell he was eyeing her sun-faded tunic and leggings, “but I hardly think Chief Arnook missed a dozen ironclads bringing gifts to his harbor. Anyway, even if they’re not getting through to the South, we still owe the Northern Water Tribe, too.”

“I’m not from the north.” She rose up and briskly turned the fish over in the fire. “I’m not even part of the delegation.” Before he could ask, she added, “And no, I’m not ready to talk about it.” She motioned to his mask. “You have secrets, and I have mine. But the thing that brought me here … it’s a Water Tribe thing. Not a Fire Nation problem. So you can rest easy, Blue Spirit. I won’t fight you unless you force me to.”

He nodded, refusing to dismiss her fighting skills as quickly as he’d dismissed her manner of dress. He might be a bit snobbish, but he didn’t discount her because she was a woman. It filled her an odd kind of relief, like a band relaxing around her ribcage.

A rustling sound made her whirl around, but it was only the eelhound, its reins a sodden, destroyed mess dragging behind it. It sidled up to Katara, as if trying to curry favor.

“What—what the—” Katara put her hands on her hips. “I tied your knots good and tight, mister!”

“It’s a female,” said the Blue Spirit. “And it probably just climbed the tree and stripped the branches off until it could slip the lead over the trunk. They’re very intelligent; you’re lucky it likes you.” He paused. “I probably should have warned you about that.”

“Who care? It’s amazing,” said Katara, peering into the topaz eyes of the eelhound. “Can I name her?”

“No!”

***

Katara decided to name the eelhound Click-Click, for the sounds it made when she fed it fish scraps after they’d had their dinner. The Blue Spirit vigorously objected, pointing out that they would have to trade her in for something less flamboyant if they wanted to avoid detection in the Caldera. Since they were having this argument atop said eelhound, Katara got to call it Click-Click a few more times before she reluctantly agreed. Still, she made him promise to give Click-Click a nice home and to see if she could come visit sometime. She smirked at the exasperated sound that followed. It was just so entertaining to tease him.

But when she arrived at Caldera City, she slipped off the saddle without a word, mouth open in awe.

I’ve made it. I’ve really made it!

She knew the Fire Nation was more advanced than the Water Tribe, having seen their ships and perused the marketplace on Ember Island, but she’d never have been able to envision the sheer complexity on her own. The citizens of the Caldera swarmed around her, silk of glaring red and muted burgundy hanging impeccably from their tall, wiry frames. Every so often she caught a gleam of gold in the eyes around her, usually from the men and women who were trailed by a retinue of servants.

Katara wiggled her foot across one of the clean-swept bricks in the road. It fit seamlessly in with its brothers and glared white in the mid-afternoon sun. Gold tipped the points on the rooftops and metal dragons stood guard over the doors with buffed, gleaming handles. Every hat she saw was slightly different, with the exception of what seemed to be a regiment of schoolchildren in uniform. They marched passed her, most barely deigning to look her way, although a few of them were too young or to curious to refrain from turning their heads. Katara was oddly reminded of the flock of penguins that had interrupted her walk on her last night at home.

A whiff of something pungent and sweet caught her off-guard.

“Ahh … ahh-choo!” 

Several people stopped to look at her. Katara covered her nose and turned from one highly offended face to the other. She felt her cheeks heat.

“Well, it’s not my fault!” she said. “It’s not as if I ahh ah-CHOO!”

There was the sound of a dozen slippered feet scuttling back. When Katara’s eyes opened again, she felt an odd emptiness to her right. Instinctively, she turned around.

The Blue Spirit was gone! He and the eelhound had vanished as if they’d never been there.

“Hey!” she said indignantly, hands on her hips. “You can’t just ditch me!” Her gaze swung from one bone-white face to the next, seeking the familiarity of the blue mask in a sea of strangeness. “Look, I know you’re here. ANSWER ME!”

More city dwellers began inching away, and Katara had to refrain from sneezing a third time. This time, there was another scent mingling with the first—a sharp, aromatic tang that she couldn’t quite place.

Abruptly, she felt a tug at her elbow. Katara barely caught sight of a scarlet cloak before she was not-so-gently escorted to a side street. She still couldn’t see his face, but his indignant huffs were all she needed to discern the man’s identity.

“I can’t take you anywhere,” the Blue Spirit muttered, now under a hood of red. “I was finding a safe place for the eelhound, like you wanted.”

Another time, she would have taken exception to that; now, her curiosity outweighed her pique at being thought of as an annoyance. “What was that—those strange smells?” She pointed to a building with ornate lattice windows and a heavily embroidered curtain in front of the door. “They were coming from inside there.”

“Cardamom,” said her companion. “And purple pepper, which our ancestors brought over from the Sun Warriors. We use them to season our food.” The Blue Spirit sniffed the air. “Cloves, too. For clearing the air, getting rid of bugs.”

“There are more bugs?” Katara wrinkled her nose. “Back home, we only had a few arctic worms we’d use for bait. But they were difficult to find.”

He snorted. “Get used to it. Mosquito-flies, dung roaches, and spider snakes, not to mention three-tailed scorpions. Which reminds me, make sure to check your shoes before you put them on for the day. The smaller the scorpions are, the nastier, and they love to nest in your boots.”

The hood half-turned in her direction and paused. “Feel like going home yet?”

“Not even a little.” She nudged him. “Not that I’d mind knowing where you’re taking me.”

“Someplace safe. It’s, uh, a little out of the way, though.” Her companion shifted his weight—odd, since he was usually so light on his feet. “Um. How comfortable are you with being not in the most, uh, refined part of town?”

“Okay, look, Spirit. Just because I don’t flaunt the latest fashion—”

“That’s not what I meant!” A pale forearm snaked out to tug the hood down farther. “I meant that the area of town we’re going to isn’t … how do I put this …”

But as they were walking, Katara had taken in the abundance of flashy lanterns, incense and furtive looks of some of the men who hastened through beaded curtain doorways. She knew perfectly well where they were heading. “Isn’t exactly respectable?” she offered with a smirk. “We’re in the red lantern district, aren’t we? At least that’s what they call it in the Earth Kingdom.”

He stiffened and tried to whirl around, but stopped himself halfway through and faced away from her. “How did you know? I, I mean, if you do know, that’s none of my business. I just didn’t think that you, I mean you don’t wear makeup or anything, but you’re certainly beautiful enough … ”

She couldn’t help it; she burst into a fit of laughter.

The billowed cloak only slightly muffled his indignation. “It’s not funny!”

“Oh, yes, it is. And by the way, I was on a pirate ship, Spirit,” she reminded him. “I spent weeks working with lowlifes who visited every pleasure house and seedy tavern that they possibly could.”

He seemed to be tilting his head in contemplation. “But how did you protect yourself? It’s not like you had bodyguards. There are men on these streets who would kidnap you in a heartbeat.”

“I wore a disguise. Kind of like you. It was just some old scraps of fabric, but it protected me.” And other people, too, she added silently. There’d been a mugging or two she’d stopped before the thieves knew what hit them, though she knew all too well how little experience she had in a fight. She’d left the costume on the pirate ship and for a moment wished she hadn’t. 

But Katara was enjoying his discomfiture too much to dwell on her past. She pointed to a wheel of stone pomegranates that decorated the doorway of one of the establishments. “Look, seven. That’s how many men they keep on retainer. And the knotted tassels hanging from that window—”

There was a slight choking sound from beneath the hood. “I don’t want to know.”

“Well, then you shouldn’t have brought me to such an interesting place.” She regarded the scarlet hood thoughtfully. “You seem more weirded out than I am.”

“I don’t go here if I can help it. I mean, these days I have, but not to, uh, stay overnight. More to survey—in preparation for—things.” He sighed. “It’s complicated. I have to investigate beforehand, and fun is the last thing on my mind. See, in the position I’m in, I have to be careful. Who I’m with. When I’m with them. What the consequences are. And even if it’s only temporary, I have to know who I’m dealing with.”

“Hmm.” She surveyed the nearly empty street. “It’s kind of missing the point then, don’t you think?”

“Huh?”

She gestured around her. “This. We don’t have anything like this in the Water Tribe; each family keeps to its own. But from what I hear, these establishments are supposed to be for enjoyment and relaxation.”

“So … ”

“So, Spirit, are you having fun doing your little investigations? Is it relaxing, vetting every single person you come across?” The thought irritated her for some reason. “Why don’t you just get to know the person you’re with, and then go for it? Or at least have a genuine good time with them, like friends.”

He started. “Friends? I can’t go looking for friends!”

“Why, is it against some rigid Fire Nation statute?” She pursed her lips, ignoring the thirst that was beginning to build from the heat of the afternoon. “Look, we can make it simple. When was the last time you had fun? Actual, laugh-out-loud fun?”

“I …” he trailed off. “I don’t remember. Maybe you’re better at it than I am.”

That left Katara at a loss. For a while, she simply leaned against a street corner, watching the passersby. A gentle breeze wafted the air, carrying the last remnants of the foreign aromas. Overhead, a hawk circled into the eye of the sun.

“No,” she said softly at last. “I’m not really good at it. At all. My brother is the goofy one. I always feel like I have to be the parent around him. And my mom—” her voice grew shaky. “My mom wouldn’t have wanted him to grow up all serious, so I had to be. I knew what could happen. My dad used to laugh a lot more than he does now, and, well ... Sokka should stay the way he is.”

He drew closer, so their arms were just pressed together. “When was the last time you had fun, Katara? Actual, genuine fun?”

It had been when she was waterbending, but Katara wasn’t willing to admit it. It was a necessity revealing what she was to the pirates, but alone in the Fire Nation, she wasn’t going to take the risk. “Swimming,” she decided to say instead. It was the truth, sort of. “The waters around my tribe will freeze you to death, but we can still swim if we cover ourselves in animal fat and keep it short. Here, I was able to swim all the way to the dock in my clothes! The water is so lovely and clear … ” she made a sigh of contentment.

“You’d like it,” he said, “back on Ember Island. The water stays warm year-round, and if you rent one of the beach houses, you can fall asleep to the sound of the sea. There are plenty of things to do around town, too—it’s not just markets. There are street performers and a theater that my mom used to take us to.”

“Theater?” Katara turned to face him. “What’s that like? Is that where you got your mask?”

He involuntarily put a hand to the shadows that shrouded his face. “I made my mask, I didn’t buy it. You … you’ve never been to the theater before?”

She shook her head wordlessly.

He reached out and took hold of her arm. “There’s one nearby, about five blocks away.” He cleared his throat. “Wait. Wait, I should—” he relinquished his hold and held out a hand instead. “Katara of the Southern Water Tribe, it would be a great honor for you to accompany me to the theater.” He stiffened. “I mean, for me to accompany you! We’d have to go in disguise, but I think it would be really fun and maybe I could steal a mask for you and come back and pay for it later.”

She nodded, hoping that would put an end to the monologue that she could tell was mortifying him more with each passing second. Sadly, it wasn’t enough.

“We, we can stop and get some food so your stomach doesn’t growl like it was doing earlier?”

She gave him a look.

“R…right…” he trailed off. “Sorry. I’ll just—”

Katara reached out and took his still-outstretched hand. “It’s okay, Spirit,” she said. “You’re right, I’m hungry. Just promise me you can take me someplace where I won’t burn the roof of my mouth off.” She felt a smile begin to form. “And I’d be happy to go to the theater with you.”

“Good. That’s--good. I’ll show you to an inn tonight and pick you up tomorrow afternoon.”

He raised his head, and for just a fraction of a second, she caught a glimpse of a pale chin and a bright golden eye before he retreated back into his cloak. Who was this man she was confiding in? Did he have a sordid past? Was he on the run from the law?

She shook off her doubts. He’d had all the opportunity he needed to try and manipulate her, attack her, deceive her … but he hadn’t. And maybe it was just her imagination, but underneath the mysterious blue and white facade, there lay an almost painful awkwardness. He was human, underneath it all.

It works both ways, Katara decided. If he’s trusting me, I will trust him. At least for now.

***

Five minutes later …

“You promised the food wouldn’t be hot!”

“It isn’t!”

[shoutaimu]

Since Ilaria is a new muse and I still don’t know a lot about her, I decided to go hunting for some headcanon memes to fill out. . Everything under the cut. 

Coral Fragments: How well does your muse deal with stress? Do they do anything in particular to help them deal with it, and if so what do they do?

Ilaria, typically, bottled her stress up in the before times. Nowadays, she might open up to Rie about what is troubling her.

Rosy Fog: What are their immediate views on romantic love?

It’s something enchanting and mysterious. A world she knows nothing of, but deeply wants to explore with someone someday.

Rosy Haze: Do they react well when they develop feelings for someone and if not why?

She seems to have handled her feelings for Hikari pretty well, so far. Ilaria acted on her feelings immediately as she’s never been one to beat around the bush.

Rosy Touch: How do they show affection nonverbally? Are they likely to show affection with their words as well?

Gentle touches; hand holding, face caressing. She is in tune with the needs of others around her and knows just how much to apply. 

Apatite Chatter: Are they the friendly sort or do they prefer to let others start off interactions with them?

Admittedly, beginning interactions with others has never been her strong suit. She always much prefers others address her first.

Apatite Tic: Does your muse have any sort of verbal tics or impediments?

Because of her upbringing, Ilaria speaks like someone of high society. She’s already been mistaken for royalty at least once. 

Garnet Shadows: Is your muse apt to stab someone in the back in any way? If so, would they admit to doing so or would they lie to cover it up?

Absolutely not. Ilaria is devoted to those she cares for.

Garnet Shine: How devoted are they to their loved ones? Would this devotion delve into the obsessive side?

I can’t say for certain yet since she hasn’t really had time to make bonds; so far she only has Rie and Hikari. Rie is a friendship she’s alread enjoying, and maybe with more time she’ll treasure it. Hikari is the one that I’d have to come back to this question for.

Garnet Core: What sorts of things would they be willing to do for friends? For family? For their significant other(s)?

Fight. Always. 

Amethyst Terrors: Are their nights plagued with past memories or nightmares in general? What do they usually entail if so?

Ever since she’s been reborn, there have been nights where she still remembers the day she died. It’s very distorted and exaggerated, though. In her dreams, the entirety of Fleed is on fire, not just her countryside home and the surrounding vegetation. Galaxia is a bit monstrous in comparison to how she was in reality. 

If it’s not of the day she died, it’s a nightmare of seeing the Vegan fleet invade and decimate her home planet while she can’t intervene. This one troubles her far, far more because of lingering guilt that she wasn’t there to stop it.

Amethyst Calm: How do they usually sleep, in what position? Do they like plenty of pillows, blankets and/or plush toys?

Ilaria sleeps partially curled up, with at least two blankets over her. Aside from the pillow she rests her head on, she also typically hugs one close to herself.

Makeshift Stone: What does their internet search history usually include? Are there any parts of their searches that they’re embarrassed by?

If she were to use the internet, it would mostly be researching culture on Earth (in particular, Japanese culture since that’s where she landed). She would likely be embarrassed if someone found her looking up romantic advice.

Cracked Cement: Are they adept at using technology of any kind or do they typically need help with it?

Fleed is pretty technologically advanced, so I don’t think she’d be too tech impaired. 

Brickwork Shadows: Is your muse good with their hands, or do they tend to be fairly clumsy?

She is quite dexterous, given her use of her double Harkens. They’re very unorthodox weapons that require skill to wield because of the size of the blades on them. 

Sapphire Depths: Do they prefer to think ahead or to leap right in and wing things?

Ilaria is a thinker first and foremost, but there have been situations where she’s had to act (eg, when Galaxia attacked her).

Sapphire Beacon: What kinds of things inspire your muse and does your muse tend to inspire others?

Ilaria is inspired most by the beauty of nature. 

Selenite Pillars: Does your muse think they’re mentally or physically strong? Is this belief true or only something the muse believes to be true?

She believes in her own physical strength. 

Aventurine Calling: Do they believe in luck? If so, would they consider themselves lucky or unlucky?

No. Fate, yes, but luck, no.

Fluorite Cloud: If they had the opportunity, would they prefer to know what’s going to happen in the future or not? Why?

I think so, honestly. If there was anything bad that might happen she would try to prevent it.

Fluorite Bearings: How strongly do they listen to their intuition? Is their intuition usually correct or incorrect?

Ilaria has a strong intuition; it’s what kept her from dying to Galaxia right away. Had she not had it she would have died on the ground right then and there the first time the Gold Soldier tried to impale her.

Peridot Ghosts: What kind of things get them frazzled or anxious? Do they tend to handle them well or get swept up in the moment?

Social faux pas are the one that get her the most. Ilaria is a bit uneasy about being a culture she knows nothing about, and as such she’s really worried she’s going to offend someone unknowingly. It’s an interesting sight to see the normally composed woman start to crumble because she feels like she did something wrong.

Moonstone Luster: Are there are any items they own that have sentimental value to them?

If she did, they were lost when Galaxia burned her home down.

Diamond Kiss: What kind of clothing and accessories do they prefer to wear? Are there are any particular reasons outside of general comfort that they like wearing these?

Ilaria tends to wear dresses and long skirts, along with blouses, etc. They just fit her tastes.

Coal Dust: Can they withstand manual labor? Do they avoid manual labor as much as possible, and if so, why?

She used to live on her own out in the countryside so yeah, she does manual labor; though, honestly, looking at her you wouldn’t think so.

Prehnite Memory: How good is their memory? Has it always been like this or did something happen to make it this way?

Extremely strong. Like a steel trap. It’s been like that ever since she awakened as a Sailor Senshi.

Bismuth Hue: Are they sickly or get sick often?

She’s pretty healthy for the most part. Fleedans who have been to Earth didn’t seem to have any immune system issues so she’s fine.

Bismuth Aid: What sort of medication, if any do they have to take, if any? Do they refuse to take it, forget to take it, or do they prefer to keep on it?

N/A.

Quartz Cluster: What kind of textures (e.g. silky, rough, slick, etc) do they prefer?

Silky or lacy. 

Jade Ambition: How ambitious is your muse and what are their current goals? To what ends will they go to to make those wishes a reality?

That’s the problem; she isn’t sure if she has any. That’s a large source of her uncertainty now; with Planet Fleed under the watchful eye of Duke Fleed and Grendizer, she feels like she’s been superceded. 

Jade Gain: How well do they manage their money?

Rather well, when finances were still a thing for her.

Amazonite Comfort: What sorts of things bring your muse comfort in trying times? Are there any habits they have when things get difficult to help cope?

Ilaria doesn’t seem to want to comment on this one for some reason.

Amazonite Shade: Are they pessimistic, optimistic or somewhere in the middle? Was there anything that happened to them in their life that caused them to think in this way?

In regards to others, she’s an optimist, but when it comes to herself she’s a pessimist. Not being there when Fleed needed her most still weighs down on her. Even though she’s been assured it’s not her fault her home faced the devastation it did, not being there to intervene still presses her heavily. 

Topaz Storm: Is your muse the creative type in any way? How do they usually express their creativity?

N/A.

Topaz Tears: Do they have any sort of outlet they use as a means to cope (e.g. writing, drawing, playing music, etc.)? How’d they get into it if they do?

Back on Fleed, Ilaria kept a garden outside of her home. Like everything else she owned, it was burned to ash.

Topaz Calling: Do they have anything that they have natural talent in? If so do they enjoy doing it or is it something they tend to forget about?

N/A,

Ruby Craze: Are they a passionate person or do they tend to be more down-to-earth?

Ilaria is of a quiet passion. It burns softly but just as intense as that of a raging inferno. 

Ruby Light: Are they the sort to wear their heart on the sleeve? If not, why?

Unless asked, honestly, no. 

Citrine Focus: Are they able to multi-task or do they prefer to keep at one thing at a time?

She’s of a single mind. Multi-tasking is inefficient.

Opal Wonder: How big is their imagination? Do they tend to share these ideas or keep them to themselves?

Like many other things, Ilaria holds her ideas close to her chest.

Opal Sky: Do they tend to get lost in their own thoughts/daydreams?

Her own thoughts, maybe; Ilaria isn’t the type to daydream.