#and it's also the story where constantine states that he considers 'heard it through the grapevine' his unofficial theme song!!!

[talentforlying]

so there was that one uquiz i did where it decided that constantine's symphony was 'the nocturne' and i just realized during my reread earlier that the volume of sandman in which constantine's story shows up is called 'preludes & nocturnes'......i'm unwell

[singledarkshade]

Lost In Time

Summary: Reappearing in the world many years after he faced a Time Demon, Rip is surprised by how things have changed but where is Gideon and the Waverider? Author’s Note: Day 6: “Live the next day” – Rip is still out there, so how does he re-join Gideon? Perhaps he’s got something up his sleeve that he’s working on.                                ********************************************* The world around him filled with blinding light, before it faded to nothing. Rip lay in the darkness, floating in a sea of nothing unaware before consciousness rushed back upon him. Gasping Rip opened his eyes and sat up sharply, confused to find he was in a room which had light peach curtains that matched the bedspread covering him.

“Well, it’s about bloody time,” a familiar voice made Rip turn to the man walking into the room, “You’ve been taking up space in the spare room for long enough.”

“John?” Rip frowned.

Self-professed Master of the Dark Arts, John Constantine nodded, “So no amnesia. I lost that bet.”

“Where the hell are we? Rip demanded, “Because this is not the Mill House, unless a spell went very, very wrong.”

“This is our spare room.”

“Our?”

Before John could answer a woman called, “Is he awake?”

Rip stared confused at the woman who appeared, recognition hitting him after a moment, “Miss Tomaz?”

“Zari Tarazi,” she corrected before explaining, “You must have known the other version of me.”

“The other…” Rip let out an annoyed huff, “They changed time again, didn’t they?”

John and Zari swapped a look before John noted, “There were circumstances.”

“Bloody arrogant as always, thinking they know best,” Rip snapped before rubbing his temple, “Okay, other things to think about just now. Where is my ship? I need to let Gideon know I’m alive, even if the lecture will take several hours not to mention the medical exam.”

John and Zari glanced at one another again before John noted, “The lecture can wait. You’ve been unconscious since you appeared in my living room three days ago.”

“Three days?!!!”

John nodded, “Yes, so slow down a bit. Get your strength back.”

“Have a shower, get dressed then have something to eat,” Zari added.

With a smile, Zari disappeared, and Rip turned to his friend, “She is very different from the women you normally hook up with.”

“We’re trying to make a go of it,” John shrugged, “Seeing how it goes.”

Rip looked around the room thoughtfully, “And how long have you been seeing how it goes?”

John shrugged, “Ten years or so.”

Laughing Rip managed to stand, “So not long then.”

Rolling his eyes, John left him to freshen up.

Zari looked up from her phone when John arrived in the living room, “We have to tell him.”

“Considering how he’s going to react,” John said, “I want to let him recover first,” he sighed, “The Waverider and Gideon are gone for good, but he will kill himself trying to prove us wrong.”

Zari rested her hand on his arm, “I know he’s your friend, but you can’t protect him from this.”

“The Gideon we knew and the Gideon he knows are completely different,” John told her, before explaining at her confused look, “To us Gideon was an information source who worked the ship but to Rip, Gideon was family.”

Shaking her head, Zari sympathised, “I understand you want to protect him, John but he won’t thank you for it.”

Sighing John caught her hand and squeezed it, “I’ll tell him.”

“Good,” Zari leaned over and kissed him, “I have to go and meet my publicist. Make sure he eats something before you drop the news on him.”

John nodded and watched Zari sashay out the room, already going over in her head the meeting about her book. Not long after Zari left the house, Rip appeared dressed in the clean clothes they’d left out for him looking around thoughtfully.

“I’m guessing you didn’t decorate,” he said before adding, “Which having seen your old place is a blessing.”

Chuckling John drew him into the kitchen, and Rip took a seat.

“Since when do you cook?” Rip asked watching his friend, “I remember Chas once saying you would starve if he didn’t feed you.”

John shrugged, “I learned. I had to after…”

“After what?” Rip asked curiously when John trailed off.

Becoming very interested in the sausages he had in the pan, John replied, “Zari doesn’t cook.”

Rip fell silent and watched John, which didn’t make John feel any better because he could feel Rip’s mind working. And one thing John knew was exactly how smart Rip was.

 Rip was getting frustrated. John kept dodging questions about when he was, where he was but especially where his ship was. As he ate the breakfast John placed in front of him, which was actually not that bad, Rip contemplated everything being said and not said. Once he’d finished, Rip watched his friend clear everything away, avoiding Rip’s eyes.

“John,” he stated getting annoyed that the other man kept avoiding his questions, demanding, “What happened to my ship and where is Gideon?”

Freezing John grimaced, “You know you should…”

“I do not need to get my strength back,” Rip snapped, “I want to know where Gideon is.”

John let out a long breath before starting, “It…well…”

“Spit it out!!”

“The Waverider was destroyed,” John confessed, “Almost six years ago.”

Rip gripped the edge of the table, “No.”

“I’m sorry,” John breathed, “I know this is hard.”

Anger filled Rip’s eyes, “I should have known they would do something like this, I should have…” he trailed off, anguish at losing his best friend welling up. He took several deep breaths before asking, “What did the Time Bureau say? Did they check for debris or…” he trailed off again at John’s grimace, “What?”

“There is no Time Bureau,” John winced, “It folded about a year after you supposedly died.”

Rip gave a bitter laugh, “Five years it took me to build that, five years of my life and they destroyed it in one. How bloody typical.”

John passed him a mug of tea stating, “Nothing stronger, you just woke up.”

“So, how are they causing chaos across time these days?” Rip asked, taking a long drink before grimacing and putting the tea to one side.

“They don’t,” John shrugged, “After we managed to get to safety, nothing worked anymore. All the Time Couriers were dead, so we went our separate ways and get together for a drink every so often.”

Rip rubbed his eyes, “Well, that’s a blessing.”

“There was a rumour the Flash team has a time travel device,” John continued, “But either it wasn’t true, or Barry is hiding it.”

Musing for a moment Rip felt a smile touch his lips, “No, they have something thanks to Thawne,”

“What did he do?” John asked confused.

A smile touched Rip’s lips, “He got Cisco Ramon to build him a Time Sphere.”

“I heard about that,” John replied, “But if they wouldn’t give it to Sara, who they know, why do you think they’ll give it to you?”

“I’m not going to ask them for it,” Rip laughed, “I’m going to build my own.”

John frowned, “How?”

Rip rolled his eyes, “It’s my design, and I can build another one easily. First thing first though, I need to get to my base.”

“Your what?”

“What happened to my watch?” Rip demanded.

Confused John shook his head, “I left it next to the bed. Why?”

Rip ignored his friend’s questions and retrieved his courier. He had based the one the Time Bureau used on the courier he’d had back when he was training. It was a useful tool which gave the wearer information, tracked them, monitored health so Rip just added the time travel function. This one however had even more functions, had ensured it was camouflaged as a watch and that no one other than Rip could access it. Finding his duster in the wardrobe, Rip fixed it on his wrist before turning to find John frowning at him.

“Where are you going?” John demanded.

Tapping the controls, Rip opened a portal behind him, smiling at his friend’s amazement, “My base. Come on.”

 John knew Rip had secrets.

The man never told anyone the full story, but John understood why. Rip had been trained to be secretive, trained to work in the shadows and then all the people he trusted turned on him. It was no wonder Rip played his cards close to his chest. But John was stunned as they walked through the portal into a large familiar looking room separated into distinct areas and only missing the seats for the crew.

“Gary,” Rip called the moment he stepped through.

“Yes, Captain Hunter,” a polite voice came from around them.

Rip closed the portal and hung his coat on the stand in the corner, “Status report.”

“All systems are working within normal parameters,” Gary replied.

“Where the bloody hell are we?” John demanded as he looked around, “Is this a ship?”

Rip shrugged, “It was. This was once the Astraea, Miranda’s ship,” he gently rested his hand on what looked like the central console, “I found it floating after the Vanishing Point was destroyed so rescued it and Gary.”

John stared at him.

“This was my base of operations while I built the Bureau,” Rip continued, irritation slipping into his voice, “And after I escaped their imprisonment.”

Looking around, John noted, “I’m guessing you also spent time here when the Time Bureau was in existence.”

“It gave me a place to work in peace,” Rip replied, as he accessed the computer, “Now, I need to know everything about what happened including the exact time and date you arrived through the portal after you abandoned the Waverider.”

“For what?”

“So I can find my ship,” Rip replied, “Because I know she’s still out there.”

                                 *********************************************

 Rip took a drink of water as he went over in his head what he still had to do to finish the Sphere. The good thing was he had most of the equipment and parts sitting around, because when he had nothing else to do Rip tended to build and repair things. It used to drive Gideon crazy when they were on missions that were mostly surveillance and he had nothing else to do.

“Gary,” he called, “How are the scans going?”

“Still nothing, Captain Hunter,” the AI told him, “But from the information Mr Constantine provided, I have currently only managed to search fifty percent of the zone.”

Rip sighed, “Okay. The moment you locate something, anything I want to know.”

“Of course, Captain.” Gary replied.

Returning to work, Rip tried not to focus on his fear that Gary would tell him that he found no trace of the Waverider, and Rip would have to accept that Gideon was truly gone. Part of him wanted to find Sara and give her a piece of his mind however that would let her know, not only that he was alive but that he still had access to time travel.

“Captain,” Gary spoke up interrupting his thoughts, “Mr Constantine is calling.”

“What can I do for you, John?” Rip asked, Gary instantly connecting the call.

“Just checking in,” John told him, “How’re you doing?”

Rip let out a soft sigh, “I’m getting there. We’re still searching for the Waverider though.”

“Let me know if…when you find her,” John told him, “I’ll come with you to help bring her back.”

Rip frowned for a moment, “Just you?”

“If you’re asking if I’ve told Sara about your return then I am insulted,” John noted.

“You’re not the only one who knows,” Rip retorted.

“Zari has promised me she won’t tell anyone,” John replied adding, “And I trust her.”

Rip hesitated but John had earned his trust over the years, “I’ll contact you the moment I’m ready to leave.”

 “Captain Hunter.”

Rip groaned when Gary’s voice invaded his sleep, covering his eyes with his arms as the lights came up in his small bedroom he demanded, “What?”

“I have located the Waverider’s energy signal.”

Rip froze, he slowly sat up and asked, “And?”

“The ship appears to be intact,” Gary assured, “I have not managed to contact Gideon, but this is not unexpected.”

Relief filled Rip that his ship was there, now he just had to finish the Sphere and fix an anchor point so they could return it to normal space.

And then he would have his ship back, he would have his best friend back.

“Do you have a lock on the Waverider?” Rip asked.

“Yes, Captain,” Gary assured him, “And projected her trajectory in case there is a loss of signal.”

Rip nodded, “Then I am going to get a few more hours sleep. Wake me at the usual time and I’ll finish the Sphere before contacting Constantine.”

 “Okay,” Rip nodded studying the readouts, “Shut the engines down and recharge.”

Sliding out the Sphere, Rip moved to the monitor and reviewed the system information. Now the Time Sphere was ready, he created an anchor point that would allow him to fly his precious ship back into the timestream proper before bringing her to the bunker.

Since he’d woken up in John’s spare room over three weeks ago, Rip finally felt he had a chance to get back his best friend and confidant. Gary was helpful but he didn’t have the same capacities as Gideon.

No other AI ever had.

It took a few more hours until Rip was ready to enter the Time Bubble and rescue his ship.

“Gary, contact Constantine and tell him he has an hour to join me or I’m going alone,” Rip said.

“Mr Constantine swore at me,” Gary came back a few minutes later, “And told me to open the portal in five minutes.”

Rip nodded as he pulled together what he needed and packed the sphere, hearing the portal open he turned to see John walking through.

“You didn’t exactly give me time to prepare,” John noted, “I could have been doing anything.”

“I have a lock on the ship and don’t want to lose it,” Rip replied, “Now is the best time to go.”

John nodded and slid into the passenger side of the sphere, “Waiting on you.”

“Gary,” Rip called as he entered the sphere and started the engines, “I will contact you when we’re ready for re-entry. Ensure the anchor is stable at all times.”

“Yes, Captain.”

Rip glanced at his friend, “Ready?”

“As I will be,” John replied, “Let’s go.”

                                 *********************************************

 Rip frowned when they materialised within the cargo bay, and it remained in darkness. Ensuring the Sphere was powered down fully, Rip grabbed a torch and his toolkit before sliding out, John following him.

“Lights aren’t coming on,” John noted, “That does not bode well.”

“No,” Rip grimaced, he started to the door pausing at the control panel and checked the power.

“What?” John asked at the bemused look on his face.

Rip turned, “The power is fine.”

“That’s good right?”

“Yes and no,” Rip replied, “The sensors should have activated the lights.”

John licked his lips nervously before asking, “Gideon?”

“Not sure yet,” Rip mused, “Her matrix doesn’t appear damaged but…” he sighed, “I can’t find any activity.”

Wincing John noted, “Let’s keep going. Once we get to the bridge you can check properly.”

Rip nodded and manually activated the door, turning on the lights in the hallway for them as they headed for the bridge. Even though the ship was trapped and appeared to be dead it was good to be home once more.

If only he knew where Gideon was.

“I don’t like this,” Rip mused, “There is something off about how the ship seems active but there is no reaction to our presence. That’s not right. Gideon should be reacting to our presence.”

Rip pulled out a wire from the Courier on his wrist and connected it to a panel on the wall.

“What?” John demanded when Rip spun looking shocked.

“There’s a life sign,” Rip told him, disconnecting from the panel, “Coming from my room.”

“Your…” John rolled his eyes as Rip marched away frowning as he entered a section of the ship he didn’t recognise, “What the hell is this?”

Rip glanced back at him, “Gideon and I sealed it before we let the team take the ship.”

“Why didn’t the team remember it existed?” John demanded, “Because we could have used the extra space.”

“Because Gideon altered the teams’ memories so they wouldn’t,” Rip replied with a shrug, “I didn’t want them going through my things or using my room.”

“What?”

“You didn’t think I was letting them keep my ship, did you?” Rip asked annoyed, “This is my home.”

John frowned as they continued along the small section of corridor, “Who unsealed it and why?”

“That is my question,” Rip noted.

Reaching the door, he found the manual release to unlock the door which opened only a few inches. Rip could see a figure curled up on his bed through the small opening. Pushing the doors open fully Rip motioned John to stay back. They didn’t want to overwhelm whoever it was, and it was better if there was one of them back if whoever this was attacked Rip.

Reaching the bedside, Rip touched the lamp raising the light slowly and stared at the face peeking out from beneath the covers.

“Gideon?” he breathed.

“What?” John snapped, frowning when Rip motioned him to stay where he was.

Rip sat in the edge of the bed and gently stroked Gideon’s hair back, “Gideon,” he called softly, “Wake up.”

“No,” she whimpered curling away, “I don’t like this dream.”

“Gideon,” he called again.

She cried softly, “You’re never here when I open my eyes and I’m alone again.”

“I’m here,” he promised, resting his hand on her cheek, and wiping away the tears leaking from her eyes, “You’re not alone anymore.”

Her eyes opened slowly, a mixture of amazement, joy and relief covered her face, “Captain?” she breathed, grabbing the hand that was sitting on her cheek, “You’re real?”

Rip nodded softly, “I’m real.”

With a gasp Gideon moved and was suddenly in his lap, arms wrapped around him as she held onto him tightly sobbing against his shoulder. Rip gently rubbed her back and waited until she was ready to talk to him.

Finally, she sniffed and pulled back, her eyes red rimmed and Rip just wanted to take all her pain away.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” Gideon said, resting her forehead against his, “I thought I’d lost you forever.”

Rip smiled, “I thought the same for a while there.”

A pointed cough made them turn to where John was standing in the doorway, “So, we found Gideon then.”

 Gideon quickly washed her face and pulled her hair back before changing into less rumpled clothing. Walking back into the main room, she smiled to see Rip standing there. It had been so many years since he’d walked off the ship to stall Mallus, both before and after she had been trapped here.

Walking to him, Gideon wrapped her arms around his waist holding on, just to be sure he was real. She just wanted to hold onto him and never let go because he had come for her, he must have known how small the odds were that she would be here, but he had still come.

Rip gently rubbed her back for a moment before he whispered, “What happened?”

Gideon sighed and stepped back from him, “We hit a time bubble. The team did not know how to deal with the problems that arose, because it was a phenomenon they’d never encountered before. It caused the engines to malfunction and due to the displaced time around the ship I was only able to contact the crew using text.”

“Which I’m guessing they ignored,” Rip frowned, glancing at John who winced.

Gideon started out the room, leading them to the bridge, “While they tried to release the ship, the self-destruct initiated.”

“That’s easy to fix,” Rip noted, “Diving into the bubble with the shields set properly would reset it.”

“I suggested that this was how you would deal with the situation,” Gideon noted, “But…”

Rip sighed, “Sara wouldn’t use my solution.”

They both turned to John who frowned, “She didn’t think it would work.”

“Because the person who was trained to travel in time since childhood and had used the solution in the past,” Rip noted sarcastically, “Plus the AI who ran the ship telling her it would were wrong?”

“Everyone thought it would kill us,” John grimaced, “We did our best to repair the ship and stop the countdown but there was nothing we could do. We were forced to abandon the Waverider. Sharpe suggested we send it deeper into the bubble so that when it exploded it wouldn’t destroy the time stream.”

“Except the Waverider did not explode when sent into the bubble,” Rip sighed, “Because as Gideon told them it reset the self-destruct. And without someone setting a release point trapped Gideon here.”

Gideon nodded sadly.

“How did this happen?” John asked, motioning to her human form.

“I do not know,” Gideon told him, “I theorised it was due to the shields not being raised when the ship passed through the bubble once more. But one minute I was a part of the ship then the next I was on the floor of the bridge, human. And completely alone.”

Rip wrapped his arm around her protectively, “How long have you been here?”

“You know time does not work like that here, Captain,” Gideon said softly, “But the chronometer shows that it has been several years chronologically. If you had not come, I would be trapped here alone for eternity,” she sighed, “Now we are trapped together.”

Shaking his head, “I thought I was the pessimistic over-dramatic one,” Rip chuckled, “Do you really think I would come in here without an exit plan? You know me better than that, Gideon.”

“You created an anchor point?” Gideon asked hopefully.

Rip nodded and found her in his arms once more, hugging him tightly, “I was not leaving you and the Waverider here.”

Releasing him, Gideon nodded smartly, “Then we have work to do to.”

 Rip walked with Gideon into the engine room to reconfigure the shields and engines for their escape, leaving John to watch the energy levels on the bridge.

“Well, the entire ship is in perfect condition,” Rip noted as he opened the main panel while Gideon worked on the core.

“I had little else to do,” Gideon reminded him, “I put myself in stasis for months at a time, waking to perform maintenance.”

Rip turned and caught her hand, “I’m sorry, Gideon. I…”

“It was not your fault, Captain,” she said, “We agreed that I should go with the Legends.”

He sighed, “But I left you with them when I used the core against Mallus, and they never understood how special you are.”

A smile touched Gideon’s face, “I amused myself during their misadventures. I knew you would reappear one day, despite your belief it would kill you, the odds were higher that after the temporal electrocution you would survive the overloading of the core.”

“Nice to know,” Rip shook his head.

Gideon shook her head sadly, “I never thought you would find me here though. I feared I would be lost alone forever.”

Rip pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly, “You will never be alone again, I promise.” He pressed a soft kiss to her temple, “As long as you want me around.”

Gideon pulled back and smiled at him, “Always, my dear Captain.”

“Rip,” he corrected.

A sweet smile touched her lips as she conceded, “Rip.”

Turning back to the shields, Rip realised Gideon had a thoughtful pout on her face, “What?”

“I do not want the others to know you released the ship,” Gideon told him, “I am sure you do not either and if Mr Constantine’s relationship with Miss Tarazi is still ongoing then they will find out. Mr Constantine may not say but Miss Tarazi is likely to mention something to her brother, who will mention it to one of the others and Miss Lance will learn.”

Rip nodded, “Then we blank their memories of everything, starting with my return.”

Gideon sighed in relief, “Thank you.”

“But first we need to get the ship out of the bubble and back to the base,” Rip reminded her, “Gary will be happy to see you.”

“He just knows I am able to deal with you better than he can.”

 Rip took the pilots chair looking out at the strange purple of the time bubble, while Gideon sat in the co-pilots chair so she could monitor the connection to the anchor outside the bubble.

“Ready?” Rip asked.

Gideon nodded, before glancing round at where John was sitting, “Completely.”

“Then let’s go,” Rip smiled, “John, make sure you’re restrained properly. This is going to be a bumpy trip.”

John sighed and gripped the chair, “Doesn’t surprise me.”

Glancing at Gideon, Rip took her hand, “Let’s get out of here.”

Activating the engines, Rip checked the shields before connecting with the anchor point that he’d created outside the bubble. Using the link, Rip opened a corridor out of the bubble, and as they began their exit the entire ship began to shake.

“Gideon?”

“Shields are holding, Captain,” Gideon assured him.

Rip gripped the controls, “Alright, we’re about to exit the bubble. Hold on.”

The ship began to shudder violently, Rip could see a pained expression on Gideon’s face at what was happening to her ship and wanted to comfort her, but he had to concentrate on flying the ship.

“Tell me we’re almost there,” John demanded, his voice wobbling from the vibrations.

“Exiting the bubble in three,” Gideon called, “Two. One.”

The shuddering stopped and outside suddenly became the green of the time stream once more. Gideon let out a sob of relief and Rip moved to hug her, her arms wrapped around him tightly.

“It’s okay,” Rip soothed, “You’re free.”

                                 *********************************************

 Rip landed the Waverider in the large bay he’d created for her within his base. Removing himself from the restraints, Rip turned to Gideon and hugged her once more.

“I’m bloody blind,” John snapped from his chair.

Rip shared an amused smile with Gideon, and they helped John out the chair, guiding him into the main lab.

“Gary,” Rip called, “Connect with the Waverider and perform a full system check.”

“Yes, Captain,” Gary replied before adding, “Welcome home, Gideon.”

Gideon beamed and rested her hand on the console, “It’s good to be back, brother.”

Rip smiled at the joy filling Gideon’s eyes at being reunited with one of her siblings, the loss of them had affected her so much.

“Before we allow you to settle in,” Rip told her, “We should get John home.”

Gideon nodded asking, “How is your eyesight, Mr Constantine?”

“I can see colours now,” John noted, waving his hand in front of his face.

Rip retrieved the memory wiper from its drawer, programming it while Gideon spoke with John. Part of him was sad that his friend would forget that he was alive, but Rip understood Gideon’s fear. If the others knew the ship had been freed, they would want to take it once more. It was not only Gideon’s home, but she had been abandoned by them when they ignored her advice, so Rip wanted to ensure she felt safe.

Activating the portal back to John’s house, they guided him through into his kitchen.

“My eyesight is back to normal,” John noted as he looked around.

“John, are you back?” Zari’s voice came just before she appeared in the kitchen. She paused seeing Gideon, “Who is this?”

“This is…” John stopped as Rip hit Zari with the memory wiper. Rip caught and lay her down on the floor as John demanded, “What are you doing?”

Rip sighed, “I’m sorry, John. But Gideon doesn’t want any of them to know we got the Waverider back and I know you trust Miss Tarazi, but I can’t take the chance she’ll slip.”

“So, what?” John demanded as Rip raised the wiper to him, “I forget you survived. I get to keep thinking that my friend is dead?”

Gideon caught his hand, “This is my request. Rip is doing this for me.”

Deflating, John sighed, “So, I don’t get to remember either of you are safe?”

“Can you keep this secret from Miss Tarazi?” Gideon asked softly.

Nodding John reminded her, “I can, and I will.”

To Rip’s surprise, Gideon caught Rip’s hand and lowered it before she hugged John who squeezed her tightly for a moment before letting her go.

“Take care of one another,” John told them, “You know where I am if you need me.”

Rip clasped his friend’s hand briefly before opening the portal and, wrapping an arm around Gideon, led her back to the base.

 Gideon sat in the comfortable living room area of the base, amazed to no longer be trapped within the time bubble. She had spent so many years alone, so long wandering the corridors of her ship wishing for someone to find and bring her home.

She had dreamed so often of Rip’s return, only to be bitterly disappointed when she woke alone. Now he was just across the room making them tea. He had come for her, and Gideon was so happy to have him back.

Rip placed the mugs of tea he’d made for them on the table before taking the seat at her side. Gideon leaned into him, enjoying the tactile sensation, especially as Rip wrapped his arm around her hugging her close.

“What do we do now, Captain?” Gideon asked softly.

Rip shrugged, “We’re free, Gideon. We do whatever we want. But there is one thing you need to do.”

“What?” confusion filled her.

He smiled, “Stop calling me Captain and use my name.”

Gideon gave him a shy smile, “Of course, Rip.”

Pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head, Rip hugged her close and they sat together ready for whatever the future held for them.

[venusofthehardsells]

No Rest for the Wicked [Dea ex Machina part one]

John ConstantinexAngel!Reader Summary: You travel to a remote island to put a murderous spirit to rest, but things get complicated when you run into one John Constantine. Warnings: swearing, mentions of mental illness, blood, smoking, ghosts, pining, is slowburn a warning? A/N: My first Constantine fic on tumblr, yay! This was originally written for a challenge aaages ago, but it got away from me and I couldn’t meet the deadline. I had so much fun with this though, Constantine is a great character to write for! There will definitely be more stories about him and this particular angelic reader in the future ♥

I’ve mixed elements from both the Vertigo comics and the NBC TV series, as well as from the general DC Universe, so don’t expect accuracy when it comes to canon. A special thanks to @nellblazer​​ for support and linguistic aid, you’re the best! ♥ Let me know what you think and if you want to be tagged ~

Contrary to common belief, there had never actually been any ravens on Raven’s Rock. The tiny, windswept fleck of land in the North Sea had been named a few hundred years ago by a fool of a sailor, who hadn’t been able to tell a raven from a severely lost and consequently very confused Scandinavian pigeon. Said sailor had regrettably also been of some importance in his homeland at the time, meaning no one had bothered to correct the unfortunate mistake for fear of losing a head. Even though everyone who since came upon the island only ever managed to find gulls and puffins and various other seabirds, it had still kept its misleading English name.

The Celts, who by rights had been on the island long before the British, had chosen to play it safe and completely forego the bird names (although it had been suggested several times in later centuries to change it to the Gaelic word for seagull, or even pigeon, as a taunt). Instead, they had most likely looked to the ancient ruins that specked the island, jutting up from the rocks like broken teeth and, all things considered, had endured well beyond memory and history and legend. Or perhaps they had still been reeling from the mad determination that had brought them and their wooden ships so far from home. Whichever the case, they had called the stubborn, little rock Innis Seasmhach, “the steadfast island”.

That was its official name to this day, though most people, especially those who didn’t speak Gaelic (which in all fairness are not very many), still referred to it as Raven’s Rock.

The locals shrugged and simply called it “the island”.

There was only one village on the entire island, whose population on a good day might reach a hundred and thirty people. That usually only happened a few times during summer when the ferries from Stavanger and Aberdeen docked at the same time. The tourists came to see the ruins, buy a souvenir fridge magnet of a raven or a puffin, complain about the frightfully bleak weather and leave again on one of the ferries that departed before evenfall, secretly happy they didn’t have to spend any more time on the island.

On the day you arrived, the population on the isle of Raven’s Rock, was an astounding one hundred and forty four, which was quite unheard of in the middle of October.

What was even more unheard of, however, was the reason for all these untimely appearances.

A night ago, a pair of fishermen had discovered the body of a man in a small, secluded cove on the north side of the island. The body was placed so that it could only be seen from sea, unless one were to venture down a rocky and extremely narrow trail into the cove itself. It wasn’t hard to imagine someone slipping and ending up on the stony beach below. That kind of unfortunate death was of course tragic, but it hardly warranted the wide array of policemen and journalists the death had attracted. No, the reason for the sudden interest was the gruesome way the body had been displayed.

The dead man had been stripped bare and splayed out on the rocks like a cross with his arms stretched away from his torso. His skin was almost completely covered in symbols and writing no one could make sense of, though one expert, when consulted by the mystified and slightly desperate police, vaguely suggested it was possibly a rare pre-Arthurian dialect.

The more macabre specifics had so far been kept out of the press.

One was that the writings on the body had been done in blood, the corpse’s own, and another was that it came from where the head had been crudely severed from the rest of the flesh and spiked close by on a piece of driftwood.

Even hypnotised, the young sergeant who had told you, had looked slightly green when he related the information. You had padded him sympathetically on the shoulder before moving on. He wouldn’t remember revealing the details to you, but the information itself was seared into his mind forever.

His, along with the rest of the islanders’, you mused as you continued from the harbour and on into the village.

The locals called it “town”, but in truth it wasn’t really big enough to warrant that title.

It had one store that sold a little bit of everything depending on the weather, a church, a pub, a repair shop (it wasn’t specified what exactly you could get repaired there) and a public building, functioning as city hall, police station, post office, library and school in one. All the police reinforcements from Aberdeen had been moved into the city hall, seeing as the only two policemen permanently stationed on the island had never handled a murder case before. Meanwhile, the reporters and TV crews covering the case were taking up the pub’s five tiny bedrooms, both B&Bs and every single rental cottage Raven’s Rock could boast (nine in total if you counted the back room in the garage of the repair shop). Because you had left for the airport in a hurry and jumped onto the first plane to Norway, you hadn’t had time to secure a place to sleep on the island. You had pondered it on the ferry, but when it came down to it, you didn’t want to stick around longer than a day. If you worked fast, you could probably be on your way back to the mainland in the morning and wouldn’t need to worry about finding a bed. You had spotted a bench down by the harbour; it would have to do.

Besides, you didn’t have any time to waste as long as the murder case was unsolved. You could still hear Madame Xanadu’s words in your head like some annoying ominous echo.

A restless darkness will carry its evil across the water to be unleashed upon the twice-named rocks. The steadfast land will drink the blood of the laughing magician.

Fate was a menace when you had to deal with it like this, grounded and fumbling through the world with nothing but scraps to guide you. Not like in the old days when you had all of Heaven at your disposal… Being a proper angel had really had its advantages. You scoffed and walked faster. At least this prophecy had been pretty straightforward, which was far from what you were usually given to work with, you thought sourly, folding your arms around yourself against the wind.

A malevolent spirit that should have passed on, but hadn’t was easy enough to figure out; it happened all the time and you could deal with that. The location of the spirit had also been a walk in the park with so many hints to go on.

What really worried you was the second part of Madame Xanadu’s little mystic insight.

The steadfast land will drink the blood of the laughing magician.

Blood drinking was never a good omen in prophecies. It hardly ever meant vampires, usually just death. And the laughing magician, well, that one was always the same. The reason Madame Xanadu had called upon you to restore the balance in this place.

John Constantine.

Whenever one of her foresights indicated that the blonde warlock was walking into something he couldn’t handle himself, she sent you after him or, in this case, ahead to clear his path for him. Most times, he didn’t even know you had been there and you preferred it that way.

Like now.

The last you had heard of John was that he was in the States. Sufficiently far away, you thought. Even if someone had alerted him to the murder on Raven’s Rock, it would be at least another day before he could reach the windswept little island and by then you hoped to be long gone. It was best if you two didn’t meet at all.

You chewed on your lip as you thought of him. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to see him, it was just… easier if you didn’t. The things you did, the jobs you took were simply too dangerous if your focus wasn’t a hundred per cent on the task in front of you. And with John around, your newly mortal heart had a tendency to make your better judgement evaporate.

You passed a phonebox on the main (and only) street that looked as though it had seen better days and a small tourist information office/part time bakery with its doors and windows shut for the night, before you reached the seemingly only building in town with light and, admittedly subdued, noise streaming out of it: the pub. Apart from the city hall, you reckoned it must be the oldest building around, but also by far the one in best repair. The wooden sign above the heavy green door was, unsurprisingly, in the shape of a very sinister looking gull and it swayed in the wind with an ominous creak that made a shiver run down your spine, as if trying to dissuade you from entering.

Well, it wasn’t very likely that you would get any information elsewhere. With determination in your steps, you walked the last few cobbled steps to the door and went inside.

Your eyes quickly scanned the room, the patrons, the energies... and you froze on the threshold.

On a stool by the bar sat the very man you had hoped to avoid. He had taken off his signature trench coat and his back was towards you, but it didn't matter; you would recognise him blindfolded. He was so thoroughly cloaked and shrouded in magical protections of all sorts that the space he occupied was practically a vacuum. It was damn near impossible to locate him by magic, you knew. If one weren't looking directly at him, like you were now, no sixth sense or intricate spell would reveal his whereabouts. But his was a vacuum you had come to know very well. So well in fact, that by now you could pin him down by his apparent lack of magic, rather than by his well-hidden magical signature, and yet, there he was, sitting only half a room away from you with a drink in one hand and one of his ghastly Silk Cuts resting between the fingers of the other. And you hadn't noticed. You hadn't even done a quick scan to see if there were other magical presences on the island when you arrived. Worse, you hadn't cloaked yourself as thoroughly as you normally would have done and your own signature reached him before you could even think to try and prevent it.

From the way he straightened his back and immediately snuffed out the cigarette in an ashtray as if someone had shouted at him to show some care, you could tell he knew you were there. He shifted ever so slightly as if making room for you and you sighed. There was no getting out of this one.

Getting rid of your raincoat, you went over and crawled onto the empty stool next to him.

You were met with that wicked smirk of his that made your heart stutter and stumble in your chest.

"Now, there's a pleasant surprise to brighten this hellhole," he greeted, raising his glass at you. "Must confess, I never guessed I'd be running into you on this godforsaken rock, luv."

"Hello John." You did with a nod, trying to keep your voice even. "Can't say I expected this to be your sort of retreat either."

The warm light in the pub shone in John Constantine's dark eyes and his smirk grew into a grin.

"It's good to see you, luv. I've missed that disapproving pout o' yours. The fact that I never know when I'll see it again makes it so much sweeter."

You rolled your eyes at him, but didn't attempt to hide your burning cheeks. The bastard couldn’t possibly know exactly how brightly your torch for him was burning, but he always acted accordingly.

"So, what are you doing here then? Odd place for playing tourist, innit?"

He leaned on the counter, his hand moving closer to where yours was resting and there was that little, dark gleam of hope in his eyes that always appeared when he looked at you. As if there was somehow some other reasonable purpose you could have to be in a place like this, at a time like this.

You shrugged, biting down a smile.

"I find the climate rather agreeable."

John threw his head back and laughed at that. Even the barkeep, who had overheard your words, snorted. You caught his gaze before he turned back around and ordered a sparkling water.

"Right. And I just happened by to see the sights, eh?"

"Well, what do you think of them then?"

You raised an eyebrow at him and took a sip of the fizzy water the barkeep placed in front of you. John grinned and gave you an obvious once-over. Your dirty boots and high-neck jumper didn't seem to put him off.

"Much improved since this morning. At this rate, I can't wait to see how they'll look in the night."

"Oh, I ought to slap that smirk off your smug face, wizard," you sighed, feeling how your stomach was practically fluttering at his suggestive tone.

"Is that a promise, luv?"

"You're insufferable."

"Aye, that I am, luv, but you keep coming back for more. Must be doing something right, eh?"

You bit your lip and looked down; he suddenly felt too close. And the general level of noise inside the pub from people chattering wasn't as high as you had hoped. It would be easy for others to overhear anything you said. Given the island-wide unrest over the murder, you were sure ears were perked more than usual and you didn't want to draw any attention to yourself, or John. You would have to gather more information some other way.

"I missed you, too," you confessed, staring at the bottles lining the wall behind the bar as if they were all of a sudden exceedingly interesting. "But I... I thought you were helping out a certain green vigilante overseas these days."

John visibly tensed up.

"Who told you that?"

You shrugged, still not looking directly at him. The truth was that he couldn't really hide from you, not even in your current state. If he found out though, you didn't doubt for a second that his heated flirting would be switched for a literal knife in the back before you could even think the word "portal". Well, perhaps not literal, but you had no doubt the outcome would be fatal for you anyway.

"Who told you to come here?," you countered, raising an eyebrow and John scoffed.

"If you must know, I got a call from an old friend. Looks like she's been scrying on her own and this little spit of land kept drawing all her energy. Didn't seem like something I could ignore."

"You should've," you mumbled, taking a large slurp of your water and doing your best to ignore the persistent little spark of envy starting to gnaw away at you at his choice of words. What old friend? It had to be someone he had slept with, it always was with him. Why couldn't you just not care? "Take my advice, John, leave. Go home and lay low. I'll handle this island."

"Is that concern for old Johnny I hear, luv?," he asked with mock-surprise.

"Maybe. Don't let it get to your head, your ego won't be able to fit into that coat of yours."

He chuckled, but the tension was still there and you didn't know how to break it without giving him the truth, or at least something close.

"Your turn, pretty bird. I don't believe in coincidences like this, so tell me. How'd you know to come here?"

Lying to John Constantine was out of the question. As was being honest with him.

You chewed on your lip a bit, weighing your options. It wasn't like him to accept any kind of help unless he was downright desperate and that was still a long way off. If you challenged him though, he was most likely to flee, that much you knew. But you didn't want to get on his bad side unless you had absolutely no other choice.

"Leave," you repeated. "This one's out of your league, John. Let me take care of it, please."

The way your eyes were pleading with him made him frown and you realised you might have shown too much of your hand.

"I'm not going anywhere, luv." His hand was on top of yours on the bar before you could move it. To anyone looking, it seemed like an affectionate gesture, but he was effectively pinning you in place. "Not until you give me a bloody good reason not to give you the same treatment as whatever beast it is we're dealing with on this island."

"Let go of me."

Your voice wasn't very loud, but you knew he could hear you. He answered by pressing down harder on your hand and you winced.

"Why is it so hard for you to believe I just want to keep you safe?," you all but hissed at him, emptying your drink with a sour expression.

"Oh, I trust you just about as far as I can throw you, luv. Every time I see your pretty little face it means there's trouble brewing just around the corner."

"I saved your life in Tennessee. And in Derry," you tried, but his hold didn't loosen. If anything, John was now gripping your hand so hard no blood could possibly flow to your fingers. "I am trying to do your stubborn Scouse arse a bloody favour, why can't you just for once in your damn life listen to me?"

"Tell me your name then and maybe I will."

Fuck. Somehow it always came down to that.

"Xanadu," you snapped through gritted teeth, eyeing John with what you hoped was an appropriate amount of ire. "Xanadu contacted me and told me about this place. Happy? Obviously, she wasn't going to tell you now, was she?"

John withdrew his hand from you as though you'd burned him. It felt about as pleasant as a punch to the teeth, but you tried not to let it show on your face.

"I suppose you're right...," he admitted. "What did she tell you then? Her usual cryptic nonsense I reckon?"

"For someone in your line of work, you're not at all keen on prophecy reading, are you?," you sighed, forcing a bit of humour into your words.

There was no love lost between John Constantine and Madame Xanadu, that much had been clear to you from the beginning. But even though she couldn't stand the sight of him, she believed John was instrumental in keeping the world safe and had begrudgingly agreed to help you protect him when she could.

"Not really my style. I prefer things more tangible, to the point. Besides, I don't need to worry about divination when I have you."

"You rarely do."

"Not by my choice, luv."

Your eyes flickered back to the empty glass in front of you and you had to take a very slow breath to try and steady yourself. His effect on you was too strong for you to be safe around him. Your job required a clear head - for both your sakes.

"A restless darkness will carry its evil across the water to be unleashed upon the twice-named rocks," you recited, steeling your voice as you averted his unspoken question the way you always did. "It wasn't that cryptic at all for once."

He didn't need to hear the other part. You could feel his eyes roaming your face, trying to figure you out, looking for something without fully knowing what. It was at times like these you missed your wings. Keeping secrets in a human body full of emotions and urges and reactions beyond your immediate control was frustrating at best. It was another reason you were better off keeping your distance.

After a while of searching your features, John sighed and gave up.

"Alright. So it's probably some kind of malevolent spirit then, wreaking havoc. Don't see why you're so worried luv, sounds like any other Tuesday to me."

The barkeep was close enough for you to signal for a refill to you both. He grunted something unintelligible, obviously not too keen on all the Brits suddenly hanging out in his pub. You made sure to send him a grateful smile as he filled your glasses, yours with sparkling water, John's with whisky.

"My weeks are all Mondays," you said and raised the glass to your lips; just as you had hoped, John did the same. "Did you get here in time to see the body?"

"Only after they moved it. Wasn't pretty..." He took another swig while staring at the wall with a distant glaze clouding his eyes that told you he wasn't seeing the wall at all. "Pathologist told me the man had been alive when 'is head was severed. The, er... the inscriptions..." John looked just as sickly green as the constable had done and very gently you put your hand on his shoulder. A small gesture of reassurance. "I'm tired," he whispered suddenly. He turned his head to look at you and your heart ached when you realised how glassy his eyes had become. "I am just so bloody tired. Demons, vampires, curses, spirits, the lot. No matter where I go, there're always more and people die, it never stops. Innocent people, good people... I just want a fucking break, but if I don't stop the darkness from spreading, who will?"

His voice was thin and on the verge of breaking entirely. You wanted nothing more than to lean forwards on the stool and put your arms around him, somehow make him know he wasn't alone, but the risk was too great. You were in too deep already.

"Sometimes I wonder whether it's all worth it..."

"Of course it's worth it, John," you said quietly, clenching his shoulder. "We do what we have to so they...," you gestured discreetly towards the patrons, ”they can go on living their lives and not... not know and see the things we do..."

"I know, luv, I know. I just... I want..." The gloom that was always lurking just below the surface of his existence was spilling into his eyes. He was weary to the bone, deep into his very soul. For a moment, you thought he was going to let the tears burst. "I risk my life every day and it's never bloody enough, is it? A man got his head carved off by some wretched spirit who should have been resting in peace. Fuckin’ Hell..."

He rubbed his eyes hard and you decided then what to do. You didn't like it one bit, but seeing John this worn down, well, you liked that even less. It meant you had been sleeping on the job.

As subtly as you could, you put your hand in your pocket and found the tiny zip-bag with a pinch of purple powder in it. It wasn't something you used often and it had never been meant for John, but you couldn't in good conscience let him go after a rogue spirit in his current state. While he emptied his glass again, you drizzled the powder into your hand and braced yourself.

"John, look at me. It's going to be alright. You are John Constantine and without you this world would have ended twelve times in the last decade, maybe more. And right now you are going to save this island, because that is what you do. So get off your sulking arse and stop feeling sorry for yourself. We have a job here. You're going to find that spirit and put it out of its misery before it hurts someone else, got it?"

He huffed, but even so raised his head and managed a small grateful smile at the reprimand.

"Yes. You're right. Thank you, luv. You always know what to say..." His eyes darted to your lips and for half a heartbeat, you did nothing, just sat there and waited for him to lean in the rest of the way and kiss you. It was far from the first time it had happened, but you still felt at war with yourself. There wasn't a single atom left in you anymore that didn't crave his affection. He was drunk and emotional and between the way he looked at you and the way there suddenly seemed to be less and less space separating your bodies, there was no doubt about his intention. It would be so easy just to finally give in and let it happen.

"Don't thank me."

Before he could lean back or ask you what you meant, you blew the purple powder straight into his face.

His eyes widened in shock, but his body immediately began to turn relaxed and pliant.

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me...," he mumbled, but his gaze was already unfocused.

"I'm so sorry, John," you whispered, gently guiding his torso onto the bar.

He tried to say something more, but his words were slurred and within a few seconds, he was gone.

You had gotten the sleeping powder from a dealer in New Orleans, who had told you the effects would last at least four hours. They always oversold their stuff, but hopefully John would be out long enough for you to deal with the entire affair if you hurried up and took a few shortcuts. It was a messy solution, but then again, you hadn't planned on him being here. Desperate times and all that.

"He gonna be lying there all night?," the barkeep grumbled with a raised eyebrow at John when you hopped down from your stool. You put on the best smile you could manage under the circumstances and slid 50 quid across the counter.

"He'll come ‘round soon enough. If not, I'll be back for him in a few."

You practically fled the pub before he could ask you any more questions.

The road outside was deserted and you hoped no one was watching as you marched to the lonely phone box you had spotted earlier. It didn't look like anyone had used it in several years, but when you picked up the receiver the dial tone was there alright.

You took out a stained, battered playing card from the depths of one of your pockets (the seven of diamonds) and slid it into the credit card slot. You didn't own a mobile phone and neither did most of your acquaintances, but still you had memorised the few numbers you occasionally needed.

"Hey Chas, it's me," you said when the answering machine finally picked up. "I'm at the island with John and I haven't got much time. I don’t want to get John involved in this so I need to work fast. There's no need to worry, really, I've got it under control, but... just in case something unforeseen happens, uhm... if I don't call back in let's say ten hours, will you let John know where to find my body? He can't track me in his usual ways, so he'll need your help."

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes. What you were about to do was risky, maybe even reckless.

"I'm going to the beach where they found the dead man and work my way from there. If... if I don't succeed..." It was as if your throat was suddenly full of gravel. "Chas, please, just make sure John isn't the one to take on that spirit. He is not ready for that." Too late, you held the receiver away from your face while you tried to suppress a sniffle. So much for convincing Chas Chandler that you had things under control. Forcing your voice to even out, you continued. "I have to go. Just help him if I can’t, okay? And don’t worry too much. I’ll probably see you in a couple of days.”

Before you could say anything even more stupid, you hung up and slid your helpful seven of diamonds back into your coat. Handy little thing to have on you.

You left the phone box in the last light of day and made your way down to the beach. It took you twenty minutes to reach the cove and less than one to sneak under the police tape unseen. There were just two constables standing guard at the scene and they only looked when you wanted them to. For an active crime scene, the site was unusually quiet, but you attributed your luck to the dusk that made searching for clues almost impossible.

Of course, that went for you as well, you thought sourly as you carefully stepped around the little plastic numbers the police forensics had put up all over the little stretch of beach. You could make out the bloody piece of driftwood and the large dark spatter running down the stones where the corpse had lain, but nothing smaller than those. Even if the place was rather secluded, you didn’t dare light a torch with the uniforms standing idly guard so close by.

Sighing, you closed your eyes and concentrated.

The place was tingling with dark energy and it became clearer the more you felt around, using your own magic.

A spirit, just like you had anticipated. A lost soul preying on the living for… revenge? Yes, the bloody traces sang with the mad desire for vengeance that so often kept the dead from their rest. 

Bloodshed, the thirst temporarily quenched. Then what?

The movements of the spirit became blurry after that no matter how hard you tried to focus. The leftover energy had been disturbed and mixed with the signatures of all the people who had been to the crime scene since the discovery of the body and it was impossible to make out without assistance, even for someone as experienced as you.

If you couldn’t locate the soul, you couldn’t send it packing. 

Luring it via séance required more people and it was too risky for everyone involved anyway. Without its name, summoning it was out of the question as well.

You groaned when you realised what you had to do.

Making sure for the last time you couldn’t be seen from the line of police tape above you, you took off your backpack and dark raincoat and shoved both of them under the nearest rock. Next, you loosened your boots and sat them next to the backpack, then your thick scarf and woollen jumper. With short, angry movements, you rolled your trousers down and folded them hastily, ripped off your socks and wriggled out of your top.

“You’re so bloody lucky I love you, John,” you mumbled through clenched teeth that were starting to rattle in your skull. With fingers already numb from the cold, you unclasped your bra and slid down your underwear before you could change your mind, and with a deep breath, you stepped into the waves.

Even before you went into the sea, your body had been covered in goosebumps from the chilly October air, but the surfs rising around your legs now made you heave for breath with every step forward. The rocks under your feet were dull compared to the sharpness of the water. When it reached you mid-thigh you had to stop and wait for the pain to subside enough so that you could get further out. You were too close to the beach and the water was still too shallow for your purpose.

A tangle of seaweed drifted past your ankle, or at least you hoped it was just seaweed. It was hard to tell for sure in the dark.

Your submerged muscles were screaming as you forced yourself out until the water reached your ribs. If only that wretched spirit hadn’t chosen the middle of the bleeding autumn to throw its tantrum.

“Sacred Nanuet, your humble servant speaks to you,” you intoned through gritted teeth and held out your hands on either side of you so the gentle waves touched the palms of your hands. “She beseeches you; allow her the honour of sharing in your wisdom. Blessed goddess, lend her your sight and expand her understanding, your humble servant begs of you, great Nanuet…”

The ancient language you muttered your request in felt strange on your tongue as always, but your flattery worked. You could feel the magic start to sing under your hands and so you took a deep breath and lowered yourself completely into the sea.

The stranglehold of the freezing water somehow got pushed into the background of your conscience and within a beat of your heart your mind was alight with images. Through the water, you could see most of the world, but you focused on Raven’s Rock and the little beach behind you. The water had seen it all. From the depths of the ocean, it rolled onto the sand and sneaked its way under the island’s rocks, seeped into the soil and was drunk by the hungry roots of The Green, stretching into the light above ground…

It wasn’t long before you managed to zero in on the exact event you needed. The Sight of Nanuet allowed your mind to access the memory of the watery abyss, which included as good as all water on Earth and not a lot of people mastered navigating it anymore. You had been forced to use a lot of wordly magic since you lost your wings and so had learned to find what you needed relatively easy.

Through the Sight, you saw the murder of the man on the beach, how the spirit severed his head and lapped at the blood before turning away from the scene. It lost some of its shape then, but through the dewy grass above the cove and the moist air, you managed to follow it away from the beach and across the land.

The spirit held its physical form, or at least the overall contours of it, and it made it easier to trail. From what you could tell, it definitely had been human when it had been alive. Poor thing. If only it hadn’t gone and murdered someone, maybe you could have sent it to rest. 

But would you even be there if it hadn’t?

When the spirit finally settled, you had followed it to an old, abandoned stone house with no windows and a door rotting away on the hinges. The place must have been a farm. There were several small outhouses scattered around the main building and indents in the earth marking former animal pens. The roof had been a thatched one, but now it was more moss than straw and what still remained beneath the heavy green patches had long since turned mouldy and dark. A few shards of glass jutted from some of the window frames like crude, predatory teeth waiting to chew up whoever was unfortunate or foolish enough to get close.

You went after the spirit through the remnants of the front door.

A voice in the back of your head told you it was enough, you should get out of the house and the Sight and the water. You had what you needed for now.

But the way the spirit slumped through the dark rooms and up a ramshackle staircase, as if it had done it a hundred times before, as if it belonged there in that house, intrigued you. It didn't match your original theory, the reason you didn't want John involved.

Curiosity piqued, you followed the lonely ghost up the stairs, where it turned left and went into a room with what had been two alcoves in the wall but were now mostly caved in. The room didn't have any windows and it was hard to make out the details, but the flimsy shape of the spirit trudged towards one of the beds and with motions as if the bedding had still been intact, it lay down and pulled the memory of a blanket over itself.

You slowly got closer, unsure of what to do. The visible shape of the ghost was gone now that it was no longer in motion and the general gloom of the empty house made it near impossible for you to see anything clearly. But the person the ghost had been once seemed so at home here. You couldn't feel any hostility from it at all, not even a trace. Only peace, comfort. Quiet.

This had been its home once when it had lived, you were almost certain of it.

But the desolate little stone house, out of the way even for the island's standard, must have stood abandoned for several decades, maybe even a century or two. If the ghost had lived here it was much older than you had initially thought.

Which meant you might have knocked John out for nothing.

Fuck.

You had to find out more and fast, but it was unlikely the memory of the house before your closed eyes would yield anything further. Even if it was dark and late in the evening, you would have to go there physically. The chances of finding something would be higher, and besides, you couldn't stay in the water forever. You were almost human, after all.

The thought had barely crossed your mind before the reflex to breathe kicked in and you could feel the freezing seawater rush down your throat. One inhale was all it took for your lungs to feel heavy as a pair of burning bricks. A fleeting realisation, that drowning was one of the most unpleasant sensations you’d had the misfortune of experiencing since losing your wings, faintly made it to the front of your perception before the back of your head hit the sand on the ocean floor. Then the only thing you could focus on was the pressure of the water and the way your body grew ever more numb…

The room still flickered before your eyes, slowly losing definition as you lost consciousness. Strange, you mused with your last bit of coherence, that an angel from Heaven should die looking up at it from so far below, in the cold embrace of the sea. It wasn't even painful anymore, the water, but oddly comforting, lulling you to rest, holding you tight.

The only regret you had was leaving John…

The last thing you saw before your eyes fell shut was his face above yours and a faint smile moved your lips. How very considerate of your mind to conjure up his image as the last thing you would ever see.

You could feel his arms around you even, fingers digging into your skin, his body pressed down against your own…

“Bloody fucking Hell, let her go!” The words didn’t make sense to you and they sounded so awfully far away. “She isn’t yours, you stupid paegan relic, let go of her! Let go!”

But you were, you were letting go, there was nothing more you could do.

“Christ, luv, which heathen tosspot did you enlist to drown you?! Yam, Ægir? Tiamat? Nanuet? Nanuet, isn’t it?” At the invocation of her name, you could feel the ancient goddess slacken her hold on you, as if in surprise, and you vaguely realised that the embrace you felt didn’t belong to her or the water, but to John. “Oh, you always were a fickle tart. Let go of this servant or so help me God, I, John Constantine, will destroy you and every last shrine still bearing your blasted name! Let her go!”

With a cry you weren’t sure was even coming from you, your face broke the surface of the waves. You violently coughed up seawater and if it weren’t for John’s arms, you would have fallen right back down into the deep. Your head was spinning. The numbness gave way to a cold so freezing you might as well have been rolling in needles. Everything hurt. Your legs felt unsteady, no, your entire body felt as if someone had replaced your bones with straw and your muscles with jelly.

“J-John…,” you coughed, but he shushed you, keeping you close to him in the water.

“I know, luv, it’s a bloody miracle you aren’t dead, you’re welcome for that. Now let’s get you out of the water, yeah?”

He was really there, drenched in the North Sea in the middle of October at what might as well have been the edge of the Earth, just to save you from drowning. His white shirt and black trousers clung to his frame like film and from what you could make out in the light from the moon, he was shuddering from the cold, too. You had never wanted to kiss him so badly before.

“I c-can’t m-m-move,” you got out through teeth rattling painfully in your skull, suddenly all too aware of your proximity and your own state of undress. As much as you wanted to cling to him for warmth, for closeness, the logical part of your muddled brain was screaming at you to keep your distance. That was what you did, wasn’t it?

“‘Course you can’t. How long were you under for, anyway? Completely off your rocker summoning a paegan goddess alone at night in the middle of the bloody ocean! What were you thinking?”

“I-I saw the g-ghost,” you weakly tried stammering through your clattering teeth. “Saw h-how it killed-ungh!”

You let out a groan as John swiftly picked you up and started carrying you towards shore. Your severely tested heart felt as though it might give out entirely. Never had you been reckless enough to let him touch you like this before, to let him hold you, as if you were a lover who would readily indulge in such intimacy. If it weren’t for the fact that you were very likely about to freeze to death, your cheeks would have been on fire. Every inch of your skin would have been scorching.

As it were, you were too cold and too exhausted for your body to produce that kind of heat. Surrendering to the fatigue in your bones, you allowed your head to rest against him and closed your eyes. He could carry you to shore or to Hell on his hands. You weren’t going to argue. For the first time in all your human life, you completely let your guard down.

[evilelitest2]

What do you think about the argument that the first fascist in known history was Jesus? Well, he was a leader/founder of homophobic and misogynistic cult who wanted slaves to be obedient to their masters, and, like all strongmen, demanded worship from his followers and was unable to tolerate any dissent?

So you think that the first fascists was a Jewish pacifist religious leader from a country occupied by a military dictatorship who invented the term fascist?  Oh and then was tortured to death publicly by said dictatorship?  Yeah that checks outs

It is saying something that I am living in the age of Trump during the Covid virus in New York, and that was the stupidest argument I have heard in weeks.  Like this portrays not only shocking ignorance of the definition of fascism, Christianity and Rome.  It goes further, I think it shows ignorance of every subject relating to those subjects, like how utterly uninformed must somebody be to get this world view?  

ugg, lets do this 

There is no universally agreed upon definition of fascism, but the general list of terms involve the following

An authoritarian, ultra nationalist, hyper militaristic regime founded on racist notions “the Volk” in competition with everybody else in the world.  Fascist regimes tend to have a semi populist edge, combining top down dictatorship with a sort of “Chosen by the people” prestige.  Its also a distinctly modern movement, since Fascists tend to engage in popular politics in a similar way to Communist movements, just Right wing rather than Left Wing.   The most famous fascist states include 

Nazi Germany

Mussolini Italy

And Imperial Japan 

Now I think the term fascist tends to be overused a great deal already, but all of that pales compared to calling a Jewish pacifist from an occupied country the first fascist.   Like if you were going to claim a pre modern figure to be the “First Fascist”, Julius Caesar would be a far better choice than Jesus since he you know

Was the leader of a military autocracy 

Overthrew a democratic goverment through appeals to the people and military force

committed multiple genocides

Justified his regime through war abroad

is the person who modern fascists draw most of their iconography from, including the literal term fascist, which used to mean “A bundle of sticks”  

Like, I wouldn’t agree with that view, since an Emperor is different from a Fuhrer, but it is at least an argument.  

Yeshua ben Yosef or Yeshua ben Nazareth (In Greek translated as Jesus of Nazareth or Jesus of Galilee) was one of many preachers in the province of Judea, then occupied by the Roman Empire, living a century before Rome would inflict a horrific genocide on the Jewish peoples in the Second Diaspora.  In contrast to many anti roman Preachers, Yeshua actively opposed war with Rome, and as far as anybody knows, he never killed anyone which is kinda important for you know...a fascist leader.   He never commanded any armies, he never ran a state, and was tortured to death by the Roman Empire, specifically in a method reserved for criminals. The religious sect he founded was most popular among women and slaves, and woulds be horrificaly persecuted by the Roman Empire until the rise of the Emperor Constantine I, aka Constantine the Great, in 306 AD.  Constantine the Great who was a Christian and started the process converting the Roman Empire to Christianity.  LIke if you wanted to point to a Christian figure and say “That is a fascist” i’d still be objecting, but Constantine is a far better choice than Jesus, since Constantine was you know...a military dictator who ruled over an Imperialist Empire and justified his reign through victory in battle.  Its still fucking stupid, but at least Constantine was a dictator.  

Now I think that the notion calling any pre modern figure a fascist is pretty fucked up on the face of it.  The Ancient World was rift with autocracy, militarism, genocide, and of course, homophobia misogyny, and slavery.  I mean Rome at the time of Jesus death is a literal slave state, with as much as 1/4th of the population living in bondage.  Like the Neo-Ayssrian Empire is far more fascist than any pre Modern Christian state, and I still would want to call that fascist.  

Also...Jesus never said that slaves should be obedient to their masters, that is a deeply manipulative misreading of Saint Paul, who is in fact a different person than Yeshua of Nazareth.  Like I get the confusion, because it was Saint Paul who took what was then a minor sect of Judaism and turned it into a distinct religion and most of what we consider Christian is owned to him, but I really want to make this clear, they are different figures and Jesus didn’t speak about the treatment of slaves.  In fact we know very little about what Yeshua said, no written account of his writings (if there were any) exist, and almost everything we know about him comes from Roman sources or Christian sources written a century later (the Gospels).  Saint Paul meanwhile, has a bunch of letters (though some of them like Letter to Timothy are faked).  

Saint Paul meanwhile, asks for Christian slave owners to free their slaves, and says 

“There is no Jew nor gentile, no slave or free, no male or female, for we are all one in Christ Jesus” (Galatians 3:28)

Christianity’s relationship to slavery is deeply complicated, contradictory, and varies dramatically from time and place, and it is deeply dishonest to say that Christianity was pro slavery, especially when you take into account in the world when Christianity emerged was one where slavery was both widespread and normalized.  “Slaves be loyal to their masters” was a strictly enforced part of Roman law, to the point where slaves were often expected to die with their masters.  During the Sullan Proscriptions, there was a case where a slave turned his master, who was declared a traitor, over to the state in exchange for reward money. Sulla paid them and then had him executed for betraying his master.  Slavery is not something invented by Christianity and with its focus on universal equality, it is understandable why so many slaves found Christianity appealing.  

Now Christianity as a more complicated relationship to misogyny, and most forms of modern Christianity have some degree of a sexist legacy they have to address.  however by the standards of the time in the First Century AD, Christianity had at least some advances for women.  For example, the notion of female chastity is pretty sexist, but in the time when it was established, it actually confirmed that women had some degree of choice over marriage, which wasn’t true under Roman law.  The story of Thecla provides an interesting example.  

As for homosexuality, that wasn’t understood as it is today, and while Christianity does in fact have a long history with homophobia, it is important to understand that in the context of the discussion of homosexuality at the time, which was linked to the larger spread of Hellenism.  

now one critique you can 100% make of Christianity is it is sex negative attitudes, but again....being sex negative does not make you a fascist automatically. 

Christianity also has an international focus which makes it actually pretty ill suited to fascism, this is why most of Hitler’s inner circle were actually pretty contemptuous of Christianity since they were ultra nationalists.  

Again, this is probably one of the least informed takes i’ve seen and that is saying a lot in the age of Trump.  If you extend the definition of fascism to include Jesus, then you should probably just call every figure in the pre modern world.  Like was this question asked as a joke to annoy me?  

[lizzybeth1986]

Quick Thoughts on TRH Book 1 Chapter 5

• Now that we are five chapters into this story, now seems like a good time to get the masterlist of this series out! 😁 Which I will be doing shortly after this QT is up. If you've missed the other chapters, you'll be more easily able to find them all there! I'll also be reblogging my TRR series masterlist sometime this week, since my TRR Book 1 Chapter 5 chapter is close to getting finished as well.

• I'm hoping to get this one out early, it's an extremely light chapter for the most part. It's practically filler, filled with little vignettes between the characters here and there and mostly diamond scenes. The heavy stuff inevitably seems to be left for the actual Walker Ranch (sigh).

• Here are the tags to block if you don't want my QTs to clog up your dash: #long post, #trh quick thoughts, #trh qts, #trh qt reblogs. For now a friend of mine is helping get the read-mores on the main posts, until Tumblr actually does something to make them work on a phone again.

• TW: Brief mentions of the Dr Ramirez scene in Hana's playthrough, and infertility.

• Screenshot Credits:

Hana - @pixieferry

Maxwell - Abhirio's YouTube channel

Drake - @thefirstcourtesan

Liam - Well, me

• Besides being mostly filler stuff, this chapter had a lot of diamond scenes. Two outfit changes (one OOTD and one lingerie for the LI), a group scene and the book's first character scene (Liam).

• A few people I know have been asking me about the differences between "character scenes" and "LI scenes" (and indeed a lot of people were confused by my use of these terms in my Book 3 QTs). So once I get to my general thoughts section, I'll elaborate on those.

• Title: The Open Road

Alternative Title: Enjoy The Fillers, Dear Fans, Coz You Got A Walker-Storm Comin'!

• We're now on our way to the States, barely days after we got back to our own estate. The Council is looking after stuff in exactly the way they have since we left for our honeymoon, except that now it's lost all its core group members besides Olivia. Her, Hana and Kiara must probably share whatever few brain cells exist in that Council between each other.

• If you've unlocked the "casual clothing" scenes for the LIs in Book 2 (Liam's t-shirt, Hana's crop top, Drake's Henley and Maxwell's muscle shirt and Bubbles necklace), that's what they'll be wearing on their journey this chapter.

• Maxwell is now the self-appointed Royal Entertainment Committee.

• Bertrand WOULD be freaking out about spoons.

• Our OOTD today is an off-shoulder crop top with floral designs, and ripped shorts - paired with a blue and pink statement necklace and a few bracelets. Esther DuPont and literally every other MC is more confident about pulling this outfit off than I will ever be.

• Maxwell suggests the outfit in the Liam, Drake and Hana playthroughs, and Hana suggests it in Maxwell's.

• First Stop: Our old workplace in NY! Our manager is no longer around (probably got fired lol) but Daniel is! Or as I still like to call him, Not-Henney 😂

• Hana is so cutely excited about visiting the place where it all begin, a place she must have till now only heard about in the other LIs' stories. Sigh. Wish we'd brought her here earlier.

• Not-Henney has issues with how little attention Maxwell gave to the MC's origins. @callmetippytumbles points out that there's not much you can expect from an author who put his face on the cover of a book about you. Cmon, Not-Henney.

• Told you "Things are Great" would become a meme.

• He now asks what the experience of being an actual Queen/Duchess is like. You can go for the funny route (glam parties that'll make Beyonce jealous. Oh idk, does Beyonce like an overabundance of apples?), the realistic route (speaking about everyone's expectations weighing on you), and the romantic route, which brings out some cute responses in both Not-Henney and the LIs, ranging from delight to awkwardness.

• Oh snap. The paps are here.

• We make a run for it (in two options, with Daniel's help), and keep driving. Somewhere in the middle of the conversation, the MC mentions a motorcycle when speaking about Drake, which makes me wonder in we will end up having a motorcycle scene in Texas itself. I mean, the writers did mention being excited about a scene featuring one in their livestream.

• Maxwell picks the next stop, and it's that engagement barn we built for Liam, apparently. Or the house of Robert, Steve Tennyson's (PM) dad. Where he has found the "biggest ball of string". Only Joy and Hope, my corgis, seem even remotely happy about this.

•

...Okay Maxwell.

Hana needs to roast people more. Roast EVERYONE in that friend group and EVERYONE in that court!

• Fun Fact: This chapter was released on the 50th anniversary of the historic 1969 Apollo 11 moon landing 😁

• As proven from this scene, the few brain cells this group collectively has, all belong to Hana.

• It's now time to check out what the group brought as provisions:

MC: Nothing, she's only here to ask what everyone else brought

Drake: Jerky

Maxwell: Tequila (!!)

Liam: IDK Esther I thought a four-course meal would just fall upon our laps from the heavens

Hana: ME! Bring cookies that I've NOT warmed by the fires wrought from the bowels of the deepest hells??? BLASPHEMY.

As always Hana saves everyone's ass this fine day. I actually quite like this bit with Hana, because it veers a tiny bit more towards "perfectionist" than just simply "perfect". Hana would be the kind of person to worry excessively over being a good hostess, since that's something she's been learning since she was a little girl (remember the tea scene in the flashback).

• We now stop by at Washington DC - Hana's suggestion - because she wanted to look at the cherry blossoms. I was quite chuffed about this when I found out coz I always used to have her down as more of a "plum blossom" girl, and this is pretty close 😁

• That little bit in DC where speaks of the area as "a marvel of both nature and civic engineering" is a nice touch, since Liam has always been associated with monuments and national legends.

• THE PAPS?? AGAIN????

• ...If my spouse and I have to spend ALL our time answering questions about babymaking, where are we going to find the time to babymake, mediapeople? Ever thought of that? Huh? Huh??

• This option is hands down the best fucking option in this chapter lol:

YOU'RE ALL SUCH DORKS ISTG

• We're now in a small town where Liam wants to mingle and be one with the locals. He's not been very successful in doing this in Cordonia (where people can literally look at his face and figure out who he is), but because it's the US and not many people might recognize him here, his chances of not being caught are better.

• This is the first character scene in the new series. It's pretty alright, not a lot of insights or anything, just a simple scene where Liam gets to not worry about acting like a royal, occasionally acknowledge his privilege, be charmingly naive, order milkshakes, and listen to the MC's insights on how she will bring up her/their kid. He does mention it opens some new perspectives on understanding his people, but I'm not sure we'll get to see much of what learnings he will put into action because, yknow, Cordonian commoners are practically invisible.

• This scene is also proof that you can take Liam out of the court but you can't take the court out of Liam.

• It begins with what the MC calls "a sidewalk hello", where she can either guide or massively troll him. The first two options are awkward as hell (I did like the bowing one though lolol coz she tells him he's probably made someone's day with his "courtly manners"), and the third is for Liam to simply ignore the other person and stare at his phone.

• Next scene involves getting Liam to buy groceries...coz he's never brought groceries. Why would he Esther he has a staff.

• They have a choice between fruit, nachos with everything on them (and they weren't kidding about "everything") and chocolates. I chose fruit.

• You also get some cute tidbits about Liam's life growing up in the palace. Here are the important ones:

- Constantine and Eleanor agreed they wanted Liam to be self-sufficient but "disagreed on how far to take that principle" (given what Liam says about her in one of the other options, I'm guessing Eleanor wanted to take it a lot more further).

- Liam can make spaghetti carbonara!!!

- Laundry: So there was this one time Leo and Liam played tag close to a champagne tower at an event, and it fell down. Eleanor insisted they "clean up the mess [they] made. A reasonable lesson in decorum and consequences". I kinda like this little crumb of info considering there is so little we know about her.

- Eating leftovers: Liam used to have sleepovers at Jackson and Bianca's quarters, and he tells us he was "proud to help Drake's mother microwave the leftovers" coz to his little mind he thought that was cooking 😁 I know, I know, I believed my mom when she put a tiny bit of coffee powder in my milk and told me it was actual coffee haha.

- Doesn't know how to do dishes. He knows soap and water is involved lol.

• The final part of the scene involves Liam treating himself at a diner with (what else!) a milkshake, while casually chatting with the MC about how she feels about the simplicity of her past life, and the way she plans to bring up her (or their) own child.

• Liam not immediately understanding that utensils are self-serve reminds me of Hana's confusion at the idea of a McDermots not having wait-staff.

• The MC has options for how to respond to Liam's question about bringing up a child - 1. I'd like my child to be practical and aware of their role, they don't need to learn how to fold a bed sheet or do dishes. 2. I want my child to have a bit of both worlds so that they're more flexible in their approach. 3. My child should be acutely aware of what the common person in Cordonia goes through if they're going to have to rule fairly over them. These three options in some way allow you to imagine what the MC would be like as a mother, and what upbringing this 'heir' might have.

•

I've never actually seen YOU make much of an effort to find out in Cordonia.

• There's also a tiny bit about Regina that follows this optional dialogue if you're married to him, which I really like: Liam states to Esther that those are "wise words from the wisest queen I know", following which she points out that he's lucky Regina hasn't heard it. Liam's response to that is: "after all this time, I think she'd agree with me". Regina's kinda grown on me over the series, and I do hope we see her again!

• Overall the scene's alright. It's there, it's cute, it's filler like the rest of the chapter. Only time will tell if it will actually result in anything in the future, which kind of leads me to wonder what Character Scenes are going to look like going forward (now that the LI scenes mostly perform the function for both characterization and romance). But the biggest takeaway right now for me is what Liam has to say about his parents, and optionally about his mother. I think that may point towards something later on.

• LMAO @ the random stranger in the diner optionally thinking Liam's brother might be Thor. Leo would be pleased 😂 Also a nice touch to see her recognize us again at the lingerie store if we buy both scenes!

• We now have a scene featuring the couples in their hotel bedroom, where the LI and MC have either had a bit of a wild night, or where the MC has just finished her at-home fertilization procedure (if the LI is Hana). There's a little chit-chat here and there about the moments they have now and about privacy, but it's different in the case of Hana.

• You finally get the chance to ask about how she feels, and this is the response:

• That's it then, I guess 😒 I'm honestly not surprised, given how much in a hurry they were to have Hana concentrate on the MC in the doctor's office itself. I'll expand more on this later.

LIAM. YOU FOOL. I'M WEARING IT RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU.

• Honestly I don't see the point in having the MC suggest the lingerie in Liam's playthrough (the others basically make the suggestion instead, and they say "well, you're wearing that", instead, implying that they're talking about what she has on already) if they're not going to code it properly.

• The actual lingerie scenes are pretty cute! And fun! And comes with cool dialogues options, and this:

• NOW I know why Hana's lingerie was head and shoulders above the rest. SHE WAS THE ONE WHO CHOSE IT.

• So here's a rundown of all four LI scenes:

- Liam: The clerk from the store (who was also the girl who noticed Liam in the Incognito Scene if you bought that) recognizes Liam and the MC, freaks out and closes the store so they can shop in full privacy. The rest of it is cute playful banter, like expressing surprise at this being Liam's first time at a lingerie store. She then chooses black silk boxers with a golden baroque design. LMAO trust the MC to get him a Versace. 😂

- Drake - Tells the MC he likes it when she takes the lead. The MC then gets to ask him whether he would be down to wearing handcuffs or pink feathers. To the second option, Drake claims that he would "wear a tutu and crown if you told me you had a thing for the sugar fairy". LMAO they really are desperate to show us how much they learned from the "pink cake" fiasco. Pity how they couldn't teach themselves to treat their one female LI with respect. Anyway, the MC chooses red silk boxers with polka dots (!!)

- Maxwell - This scene is a fever dream from start to finish. Maxwell is happy and excited and SUPER SUPER enthusiastic, asking the MC to drop a beat so he can break into a dance at the store. The MC chooses blue silk boxers with squid designs on them. EVEN MAXWELL CANNOT CONTAIN HIS SHOCK. (PS: This scene marks the third appearance of "release the kraken!" 😄).

- Hana - Hana has apparently seen shops like these from the outside but has never been to one (same sis same). She speaks of how she never had anyone to do it for, which is why she is so happy about it now coz she can do it for the MC. A sweet, simple conversation. The difference here is that Hana knows what she wants, and chooses the lingerie herself: a beautiful lace and fishnet number with garter belt and stockings. She looks amazing and part of that is because unlike her friends, she realizes that her wife has deplorable fashion sense.

• It's now the next day, and Drake tries really hard to hoodwink everyone into making his "next stop" the Walker ranch, but the Royal Entertainment Committee threatens him with an "intimidating interpretive dance performed by me" (is he going to jump out the car and sing Kiki Do You Love Me too?). It's enough to scare Drake into picking a nicer stop.

• It's now time to listen to some tunes!! Everyone squabbles a little over what music to choose and the MC gets to pick either of them:

- Hana's Choice: A piano concerto that Liam loves, makes Drake cry and Maxwell go all happy-sleepy.

- Liam's Choice: Chartbusters. "Top 40s". Drake is surprised coz the last time they drove together, Liam made him listen to 52 versions of a single Bach sonata, to which Liam cheekily responds that doing so made him figure out which one was Drake's favourite.

- Maxwell's Choice: Some song that Maxwell did a deejay mix to, and apparently Liam (and presumably Drake) lent backing vocals to. Going by Liam's advance apology it must be pretty fucking terrible.

- Drake's Choice: Classic rock tunes that he can do air-guitar to. Liam concedes it has rhythm, Drake responds that it has rhythm and attitude. He tries to do air guitar in the car but Hana, panicking, reminds him that he's the one driving.

- What Would Have Been Bertrand's Choice/We Shall Drive In Silence!: Apparently when the MC says this, Maxwell says that she channeled Bertrand so hard "he flashed before my eyes". The MC reasons that if no one wants to listen to anyone else's music they might as well be quiet. Maxwell tries to bring up other alternatives such as playing his kazoo-tar, at which point EVERYONE agrees that silence is golden.

• This bit is one of my favourites in the chapter. Probably the second after "say cheese" haha.

• It's Hana's turn to drive and Maxwell is helping her by asking she carve that path from her heart. Which she does, even though she has mentally memorized the next twelve steps she needs to take.

• Liam drives, explaining when the MC asks that Drake was his first driving instructor (Drake had his licence already and they may have used a royal golf course or two for practice runs).

• Maxwell finds a new waypoint: Thrilltown. His reasoning is quite poignant (everything is changing, the MC and LI - in some cases him - will be having a child soon and everyone will be busy in their respective roles, when will everyone be together like this again?). The rest of the group comfort and reassure him, stating that they will probably see more of each other now. In any case...perhaps to Maxwell this is like a last hurrah to the carefree life he used to have.

• We start with choosing rides. Maxwell and Drake choose The Accelerator, which Maxwell describes as "fast. furious. and it uses gravity at speeds that Thrilltown can't legally release to the public!". Hana and Liam choose the "gentler" option - the carousel - which has you ride unicorns, griffins, dragons and other fantastical beings.

• I'm surprised the writers don't have him react even a little to the carousel, considering one of his scariest experiences took place on one (Book 1 Chapter 16). Just show him say "yeah...I'll pass" or show some emotion or other. It's like that armoury scene in his playthrough of Book 3 Chapter 11 where Madeleine could mock Liam about his feelings for the MC and Maxwell is pretty much sitting there not reacting. It's so lazy. I can't.

• Carousel with Liam and Hana: I loved this one, very cute. The carousel has fantasy elements and mythical animals, things that both Liam and Hana love. The MC gets to sit on a phoenix (like her optional Valtoria sigil!), Liam on a dragon (like the royal family's old crest! Dom would be proud) and Hana on a unicorn (which suits her particular style of whimsy). It's cute and fun and sounds exactly like the kind of thing Liam and Hana would enjoy.

The Accelerator with Maxwell and Drake: They call it EXTREME, and it lives up to its name. Maxwell is ecstatic obviously because he's a thrill-seeker and a ride like this is completely in his wheelhouse. Drake gets caught red-handed handed actually enjoying the ride.

• We try out something called The Vortex of Terror, where Liam challenges his friends to not scream up until the end of the ride. Ironically he's the first one to cave 🤣🤣

• "I accept your terms, Liam...as long as you're prepared to lose". Badass enough to challenge the king of the country xD (considering the way that ride goes, I think she was right haha).

• I need more Competitive, Sarcastic Hana outside of cute group scenes.

• One of two people can win this challenge: either the MC or Hana. If the MC wins, she gets to hoist herself on the LI's shoulders towards the next ride. If Hana wins, she perches herself on top of Drake's because he's pretty damn tall.

• Our last ride is called "Lover's Leap" and it's pretty much the romantic portion of the group scene, really.

At the end of it, the LI brings you a green candy drink, and then lets you know how this trip to Thrilltown is representative of their journey together and the change the MC has brought to their lives.

• Both Hana and I have no freaking clue what Liam means when he says "I call shotgun" before they head out.

• Lol @ Cordonia having its own version of "Ninety Nine Bottles of Beer on the Wall". And of course it's going to feature Cordonian Rubies 🤣

• We now reach the ranch, where those of us who didn't marry Drake meet his mother Bianca for the very first time (in every other playthrough she is called "The Rider" and in Drake's her sprite is addressed by name).

• There ends the chapter, on a 'suspicious' note, the kind that seems to sound like things are suspicious but they're probably not. Bertrand's head must be exploding from the lack of spoons.

General Thoughts:

• It's a good thing this filler chapter exists, even if it's mostly inconsequential fluff, because at least that's one chapter less to deal with BertVannah and Drake and his family.

• It's also pretty expensive because the writers knew their crowd by now and know that that crowd is willing to spend.

• The scenes were in keeping with the mood of the chapter - light and fluffy, lots of friendship and some amount of romance. I ended up liking the free short scenes more than any of the diamond ones this chapter honestly.

• So...on the outset, it seems good that the MC is able to check on Hana, post the visit to Dr Ramirez. Hearing Hana's answer, however, brought back every issue I've ever had with the way they've written Hana.

I mean, sure, not everyone reacts the same way to such painful news. I understand that. But here the writers are basically using Hana to minimize what she's going through. They use her to dismiss her own pain with "oh that's okay, I'm just happy that at least you can carry that baby". All that proves is that the female LIs' experiences and pain mean nothing in front the MC's needs.

I've spoken before about the numerous times Hana's pain had been brushed aside or her space eaten into, to favour particular characters, and this just happens to be a repeat of the same formula. This is especially bad because it proves that the only reason they put Hana through this kind of hell in the first place is so that only the MC can carry the child. Her condition isn't allowed to be anything else other than a plot convenience: not an opportunity to open a conversation on this, nor to help develop her as a character. It's merely a narrative device meant to make coding easier. It's dismissive, lazy and reeks of a deplorable lack of care. And again I have to ask, why put her through this if you're so desperate to ignore it afterwards??

• The other big problem is that considering the gravity of that situation, why is checking on her an option rather than actual default dialogue?? If you choose the option to continue talking about playlists instead, the topic just never emerges again. Again I have to ask, what the hell kind of wife is the MC? I mean even before they got the news, the MC was pretty much doing nothing. She wasn't planning for Hana, she wasn't thinking much in terms of what to do for her, everything seems to just revolve around her even in a scenario where either one could have been a mother.

• The lingerie scene seems to me to have elements of a type of diamond scene in the flagship series - the ones where we could buy new casual clothing for our LIs in NY. The LI requires a new look, the MC suggests for a change and often picks out something that she thinks would work (some of her choices - like Liam's pants or Drake's sunglasses are...questionable 😅), and from then on this would be their option for ultra-casual occasions. The one casualwear scene that is different from all these is Maxwell's: he gets his sleeveless shirt and Bubbles necklace at a shop in Coney Island, during the group scene (I think part of this was that they were attempting a step-by-step LI-upgrade because they were a new couple at that point...which was why his first 30 diamond scene was during the Gala, after they'd been together for a little while. Still doesn't excuse all the ways they ignored his background and history though).

The main difference between the casualwear scenes and the lingerie ones is that the first dealt put the MC and LI in different situations and dealt with different issues (therefore was a scene of its own) and the second really just revolved around the lingerie. Perhaps the lingerie scene would be what you'd call an 'extended outfit option'? As opposed to something that's a scene all on its own?

• I was actually quite surprised we got a character scene in this series. Given how much they'd drastically cut down on them in favour of beefing up their LI scenes more, I was fully expecting not to see them. I do prefer them to the LI scenes sometimes, because my LI is not the only one I want to be keeping tabs on, and I do want to know what's happening in their lives.

• What is the difference between the two? I hear some of you ask. Well, good question because I'm about to launch into one of my long-winded explanations again.

• Diamond Scenes in TRR/H: I've been holding off on writing about these, since I believed that the series probably had done away with character scenes and preferred to use LI scenes for both romance and development. With this chapter, I now understand that's not the case.

• So...simply put, the difference between an Character Scene and an LI scene, is that the first focuses on the same character in all playthroughs (eg. no matter who you are romancing, if you buy these scenes it's Hana who will play Snow Angels with you, or Drake who will go fishing with you), and the second focuses on who you are engaged/married to (eg. If I'm romancing Hana, I will not be going to the movies with Liam. If I'm romancing Maxwell, I will not be having a cake testing session with Drake).

During Books 1 and 2, when the MC wasn't altogether exclusive with any LI as such, each character would have their own specific scene which expanded further on their characterization and gave the MC a chance to learn more about them. Most of the romance in these scenes were by choice, with the exception of a few lines here and there. The writers tried to continue this way of formatting diamond scenes even beyond Liam's proposal, but the amount of backlash from the portions of the scenes that involved the MC cheating on her confirmed LI...kind of made them backtrack on this plan quite a bit.

Book 3 switched the format up a little. It was similarish in a lot of ways to RoE, except that unlike that book (where the other two would disappear once you got engaged to one), we were also friends with the other LIs. Besides outfits and plot development scenes (such as the one in the Nevrakis replica armory with Olivia and Gladys) and group scenes, the book also offered two types of scenes for the reader to connect with the characters they liked:

1. LI Scenes: These scenes are meant for the LI the MC is marrying, and are coded differently based on that. This kind of scene was first used in the series in the first chapter of Book 3, where the MC and LI could comfort each other in the safe house. The initial chapters had a similar approach to the scenes as RoE Book 3 (where Mr Sloan, Leo and Dean all ended up sounding like each other), in that the dialogues sounded pretty cut-and-paste, with little to no actual variations beyond a few things (an example of this was how - in the Book 3 Chapter 6 Spa Scene in Applewood - all the LIs spoke of being "dumb in love" with the MC - which suited certain LIs, but sounded extremely jarring on others.

During Book 3, a high number of complaints about the series revolved around this copy-paste routine for the LIs, mostly because the characters were so different from each other, and wouldn't speak the same or even have the same experiences. Around Book 3 Chapter 8, major shifts began to happen in the way these scenes were written, starting with the Movie-going Scene in Castelserraillian. Post that chapter, and the hiatus, there was a significant decrease in the number of individual character scenes, and an increase in both number and quality of the LI scenes. It is very possible that they found juggling both stressful and dialed back on one to personalize the other further.

2. Character Development Scenes: These were scenes with the LI that you got regardless of whether you were marrying them or not. This scene would be viewed over all playthroughs, with differences based on whether you were marrying them or not. If you were not marrying them, these scenes would appear neutral and the romantic options would simply not be there, or be replaced by more neutral ones. Examples of such scenes include Drake's Cordonian Waltz Scene in Fydelia (Book 3 Chapter 3), Liam's Gastrodiplomacy Scene in Castelserraillian (Book 3 Chapter 7), Hana's Polo Scene in Portavira (Book 3 Chapter 5) and Maxwell's Armoury Scene in Lythikos (Book 3 Chapter 11).

The most important thing to remember is that these scenes are expected to be coded differently (according to your relationship with said LI), not only by adding romantic options for the MC to choose, but also in the actions of the characters by default. For instance, the Fydelia Cordonian Waltz scene in Drake's playthrough incorporates - by default - all the sensuality you should be finding in this waltz, while his friendly playthrough is merely the MC teaching him the basics so they have an edge over Neville. By default, if you buy the Gastrodiplomacy scene as Liam's fiancée, the chocolate souffle you sampled with him would feature at your wedding reception.

I say the scenes were expected to be coded differently, because very often they were not. In a lot of cases the only proof you'd have in those scenes that the LI and MC were even together were from the MC's actions. For instance, even though Hana was going to be a duchess on marriage to the MC, the same as Drake - only Drake got to speak in detail about it. This opportunity came for Hana very briefly only by Chapter 14, well past the midpoint of Book 3.

• So when Book 3 began the formula was mostly "leave the character scenes for developing the LI's issues or getting them to teach something, and concentrate on nothing else but the romance for your LI scenes". However this wasn't exactly workable given how different each LI was and therefore how odd some of their dialogue sounded. The dial back is understandable (though, as someone who has looked through various playthroughs in this book, I can tell you the imbalances found across character scenes were on a whole different level).

• Why I've elaborated on this is to give context to a question I now have about the narrative: what are the Character Scenes going to look like from here on out? Post the hiatus, they would vary - they could be mostly plot-driven, or fun and light but not much depth or variation, or fun and light, and also opening up diverging conversations based on your relationship. Now that they seemed to have locked down some format in this book at least, what's it going to sound like?

The Liam Character Scene today was fun, light, had default differences based on whether you were marrying him or not, but ultimately had very little to give to the story other than a few facts about Liam's home life and (in a way that expands on what we already know about her and her dynamic with Constantine) his mother. What exactly does he learn? What new insights is he getting as a King who self-admittedly exists and operates in a "statesman's bubble"?

It also remains to be seen whether buying this scene will have any effect of future events - like Liam's Applewood Tour Scene, where his retelling of King Fabian's story had an impact on our conversation with Kiara's mother Joelle. I'm probably going to keep track on how these character scenes are being written in this series, considering that we already have a pretty good idea of how their LI scenes are done.

• Twice I've seen Eleanor associated with pasta. In Book 1 Liam mentions simple tomato pasta as a childhood dish that reminded of his mother, and here shortly after he speaks about his parents he mentions knowing to cook spaghetti carbonara. IDK what that's supposed to mean but I'm bringing it up anyway. I'm mean, what if it's a part of Auvernese cuisine 😂

• I guess that's it for this week! Time for me to scram and finish my Book 1 Chapter 5 QT too before the next chapter drops!

[umccall71]

Chapter 14

Characters:Prince Liam x (mc) Lady Saige

Rating:Mature Content includes profanity, sexual content,talks about depression.

Word Count:2226

Disclaimer: All characters used are sole property of Pixelberry. I am simply borrowing them for entertainment.

Summary:After a summer of a Lifetime Prince Liam thought he could have it all. He was carefree, free, and sharing time with the woman of his dreams. When life as easy a balancing act between love and duty, he realizes his truths are lies, wrong is right, and decisions do have consequences.Lady Saige never imagined she would be one of his consequences. When an act of utter horror throws her world into a tailspin.

Warning: This series contains subject matter of depression and hopelessness .The story may trigger certain individuals. Please be advised. If your reading this series you are acknowledging you are at least 18 +.

A/N: Sorry for the long delay . Things have been hectic. I had to take some time to focus on my health. Thanks for understanding and your patience.

***************************

Liam and Saige spent the next two weeks managing coronation preparations,talks of their what happens next, and building expectations for their future. Liam spent long days at the palace with every possible noble schmoozing the new king to be. Every moment that he had a free minute he would send Saige a thoughtful, fun, flirty text.Liam was falling into his new role smoothly, but the mere glimpse of Constantine in his path sent his blood boiling . He fought the urge to want to strangle his father daily. It was count down to the coronation and the exit of the former king and queen. Liam sat in the dark study with the drapes drawn pouring over upcoming trade agreements and his speech to the council upon being crowned king. He heard a tap at the door ,when he saw it open presumptively by Regina and Constantine.

“Liam, it has been impossible to get a minute to speak to you about this foolish notion of us leaving the palace. That … that's just unheard of in Cordonian history. The king father and queen reside at the palace even with the change in power, ``she waves the thought off. “ You will need our guidance in selecting a future queen. Surely you have thought this through with the upcoming social season?”she looked on quizzically.

He squeezed his eyes closed , rubbed his temple, and stood walking over to the bar cart. Liam poured himself a finger of scotch before taking a deep breath to attempt a civil reaction to the woman that had been a mother figure to him since he lost his own. “Regina...did he not tell you there is no need for a social season, I am with Saige and she will rule beside me”, his words are interrupted by a maniacal chuckle.

“Surely you wouldn’t think that some girl from America would be a representation to our people of Cordonia? Liam...she's a ..a commoner, she spat with such disdain and as if the words left a sour taste on her tongue. “Your first true decision after being crowned will be choosing your bride. Don't worry, we will help you make the right choice to lead with you,”

Liam slammed the tumbler down on the desk almost shattering it. “I don't need any guidance with my marriage, nor my decisions as king…. Regina”,he responded through a clenched jaw. “Saige is not some passing fancy.. Or did your husband not share that with you? She will be my better half as we decide together the next chapter in Cordonian history”, he conveyed almost as if he had to convince her she was worthy, “father sees her potential ...don't you?”

Constantine gulped loudly,adjusting his collar uncomfortably considering his next words, “Liam, what Regina means is…”,he is cut off by Regina.”I know exactly what I meant Connie,'' she sneered.”This girl is not suitable to be in contention for a suitor. You are surrounded by a wealth of the finest women Cordonia has to offer.”

“You make them sound like contestants in national dog show competition to be judged…”he snarked. “Why do you seem surprised by what will happen leading up to the events of the coronation? This has all been explained to Constantine...including your departure from the palace, `` Liam stared daggers at his father as he spoke to Regina.

“Liam! Do not be crass… show some respect for your father!”,she barked ...appalled by his words.

“Respect is a commodity in short supply when it comes to father… he has lost mine”, his nostrils flared , liam fought to control his breathing and anger. “I have a lot of work to do, so if you two would show yourselves out….”he trailed off .Liam sat back down in his chair, reached for his phone and stared at his lock screen picture...his bride, Saige. There was something so calming just looking into her eyes, even if it were just her picture. He thought to the moment she would walk through the doors of the palace and consider this her home. He also knew as long as Constantine was there … there was no chance in hell this would become a reality for them.

Regina and Constantine started walking toward the door, but suddenly she stopped and glanced at Liam perplexed by his demeanor. “Something has changed in you Liam. I remember you were the one that was always on your best behavior. We could count on you to do what you were told, ``she tapped her chin with her well manicured french tipped nails.

Liam wouldn’t look up at them as he sent a quick text to Saige.”I will be there soon my love. I missed you all day.” He smiled briefly before hitting send. “Your husband can shed some light on what has caused the shift in my manners and demeanor. When he learns to show respect for others.. Perhaps someone will give him respect in return, ``he responded through gritted teeth.

“Come along Constantine… we know when we’re not wanted”,she huffed our the door clacking her stilettos against the marbled floors down the hall until the sound faded.Constantine glances back contemplating if he should try to get through to his youngest son, “Liam...I hope that one day you’ll understand I meant no harm , but you can have true lady beside you on coronation night.”

Liam bit his bottom lip until he tasted the mercurial salty drops of his blood in his mouth. Every thought in him wanted to thrash his father for yet again disrespecting the woman he loves.. his wife… his Saige.Liam fought the anger coursing through his veins, fighting the urge to end Constantine where where he stands… but he chose to adjust him suit coat, straighten his stack of papers, adjust his cuff links before walking out the door passed his father…. silently. Liam knee he couldn’t keep fighting every minute to convince Constantine that Saige was perfect for him. He thought as he jogged down the stairs, “luckily we won’t have to deal with this backwards elitist attitude much longer.” Liam climbed into the back of his suv as bastien drove him back to Lythikos. He thumbed through his camera roll, viewing the countless candid shots he’d collected of himself with Saige. To see her genuinely smile and seem so light… so free was true happiness to him. “Bastien… I need you and several members of the royal guard to make certain the staff pack up the former king and queen and deliver their belongings to the empty duchy furthest from the palace. They will try to stall hoping I’ll change my mind, but my resolve is unwavering. I need make sure that Saige can explore the palace without bumping into the man that tried to rape her without any sense of remorse.” Bastien nodded in the rear view mirror, “yes sir.”

A short time later they arrived and Liam bolted out of the car and bid Bastien good night. “ Thank you for everything Bas… I won’t forget it.”Liam slowly opened the front door … walked softly up the staircase.. and eased into his and Saige’s bedroom. He toed quietly out of his shoes careful not to startle her if she were asleep . He smiled as he started toward the bathroom to shower before he was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of Saige talking in her sleep, frantically pleading with someone telling them no.. he saw her features tense and scared.

“Please don’t… don’t take our baby… we love him .. please I can’t lose him !Noooooo!” She cried out in a piercing shrill anguish. Liam saw the tears escaping her closed eyes. He made his way over to her and pulled her body into his chest .. holding her as if he were her anchor. He whispered near her ear, “ Saige… baby I’m here… I’ve got you. No one is going to take you away from us… never again. Love.. please wake up”,he pleaded. She slowly began opening her eyes, trying to piece together where she was and who was with her in that moment.Her body shook in horror for what seemed like an eternity

Her voice spoke sounding so small, “ Liam?”

“Yes love...I’m here.. I’m here with you.please tell me what has you do frightened?”, his eyes searched hers for answers, for recognition.

She shook her her , willing the nightmare away. Feeling that if she spoke it out loud it would manifest into her reality.” Saige wrapped her arms around her arms as Liam held onto her body.She wouldn’t stop shaking .., reliving the dream in her wake state.

Saige began to sob again while Liam held her close. Something so paralyzing about her dream. She contemplated telling Liam she feared losing their child at the hands of his father. She knew he was already holding it together by a thin strand. Liam became physically angry every time his father’s name was mentioned. Saige knew that her being attacked by Constantine wasn’t Liam’s fault… although she blamed him briefly.Saige didn’t want to jeopardize Liam in his ascension to the crown. He was born to be the leader and the man he is today… but only if nothing stumbles his path.

Liam’s soft hands held her face and seemed to register that she was truly frightened. “Love… what has you so terrified in your sleep? We promised to protect each other… let me protect you...please.”The room grew silent.. a pin drop could be heard. The palpable pain could be cut with a knife.He knew she wasn’t herself in that moment, but he afforded her the chance to open up to him in her own time. He wasn’t letting the nightmare go, but he felt trying to force her to speak in that moment would be detrimental to her health… her mental stability. He was so proud in the time he’s watched Saige come from that room in the in treatment center to where she had been recently with her new therapist. He wondered what could have triggered her to slip into this dark place.

“Saige… you know I love you with all of my heart.. I want you and our family that we are anticipating”, he gently stroked her arms that were freezing in light of her having been wrapped up. She flinched at the mention of their family. “What’s wrong love… you can tell me anything.. you know that right?”

She paused as she considered what to say… how much to say… wondered would he understand. “ Liam… I don’t know if.. if we should be thinking about a baby “, she sniffed back the tears.” Maybe, you might decide you don’t want to have a family with me.. perhaps there’s some socialite that would be better suited to be the mother to royalty.”

Liam tensed up at hearing her spewing this doubt about her being a mother to his child. “ Saige… you know that I only want you… in my heart .. you are the only woman I need. I couldn’t fathom another carrying and giving birth to my child… our child.”She saw his blue eyes glistening as he tried to control his tears. Not even in passing would he consider not having Saige as his bride and the mother of his children.

She sat up in his arms and then stood .. Saige walked to the balcony doors and opened them to feel the cool breeze on her damp skin. “Liam, what if I get pregnant and then someone takes them from me.. from us? To go through nine months and have that child stolen…”,she trailed off. Saige stares out into the darkness of the lythikos night sky.

Liam strolled over and enveloped her small frame in his arms.. he draped his arms around her.. swallowing her into him. “ Love… where is this coming from ? You were so excited st the possibility of us .. of us trying to get pregnant”, he whispered. “What’s changed? I know you’ve been talking to Dr. Ashton, but what changed to have you thinking I would be better off with someone else as the mother of my child?”

Saige leaned back into him.. collecting her thoughts… “ Liam… I’m tired all the time, I’m emotional, I’m … I’m “, she farted into the room and grabbed her phone. Saige started frantically sliding through her apps until she came to the one that tracked her … her cycle. “It has to be nerves, there’s no way this soon”, she mumbled searching for dates on a calendar.

“Saige.. what is it? What are looking for? Your scaring me a little. Are you alright?”, worry etched on his face. He reached for her when he noticed the calendar she was looking into fearful. Saige .. do you.. do you not feel well? Are you alright?

She dropped her phone to the floor, covering her face in disbelief .. “ this isn’t real. Liam … Liam I’m late… what if this means?”Saige ran to the bathroom and ran cold water over her face . Liam followed behind grabbing a towel and wet it with a cool water . He led her to the side of the tub placing the towel on the back of her neck. “Saige… do you… think you might be pregnant?”

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[cassandra-rp]

Fairy Tales I

Fairy tales I

> Beauty and the Beast <

"Honestly..." Intella's eyes practically rolled back into her brain as she walked down the street as she spat the sarcastic whisper out of her lips.

She was considered, odd.

The baggy men's shirt hung off her shoulder a little bit and the belt around her waist just barely kept it from just looking like a giant burlap sack over her torso. She wore pants unlike almost all of the women in the city at the time... And most importantly she enjoyed to read but not just romance novels or books aimed at women about parenting or cooking. She read everything... Action and adventure, mystery, supernatural. It was all fascinating to her...

"That scowl isn't helping your cause, Intella." The soft voice followed behind her and her glare softened as she looked back at the short girl who trailed behind her... Valentina Constantine of the Constantine family was the youngest and despite her long fancy hairstyles and elaborately elegant dresses she was a similar soul to Intella although unlike her she kept it quite private... 'borrowing' Intella's books on the side and smuggling them into her home and past her mother.  

"Oh... It was simply that, Castiel. Honestly, He is repulsive. It wasn't just how he spoke of me but as he speaks of all the women around here. I'd love to give him a taste of what a women really can do."

"Oh... Well. He is quite the character..."  'quite the character' was Valentina for 'asshole' as she'd never would downright insult someone but always find a more polite way to do it... Intella felt a smirk slipping to her lips as she awaited what Valentina would come up with this time... "His words regarding me were quite degrading but you cannot expect more from one whom lives in a barn." she stated, implying subtly that he was a pig without actually using the word. A smile on her lips of kindness despite everything.

The harsh snort left Intella as she reached her steps, laughing faintly. unlocking the door and stepping inside. Valentina following without invite if only because Intella found the entire 'invitation' thing exhausting usually and she figured Intella would ask her to leave if she so wished her to...  but as Intella grabbed the teapot she clearly was invited to stay for awhile.

There conversation mainly centered on books after that as Valentina questioned some words she didn't understand or things about the ones she read she didn't comprehend. She was a little less educated then Intella if only due to her mother's insistence that she was meant to be a trophy bride for one of the princes or a king not a scholar.  But as there conversation was coming to and end Valentina recalled something. "Oh. I heard the strangest rumor the other day... I highly doubt it's true but the ladies at the parlor were talking about the abandoned castle in the woods? They claimed it was still filled with riches and 'a library that would fill several homes.' - Can you imagine such a thing?"

Intella couldn't fathom what it'd be like to have access to that many books and furthermore how someone could abandon them... Though, perhaps it was just a rumor...   Intella packed up 'a desert' for Valentina also known as two books she'd found that she felt Valentina would enjoy. It was there secret way of moving them around without question.  Intella pondering over the comment as she got ready to curl up for the evening with a good, brand new book... But the curiosity was what tended to get Intella into the most trouble.

----

The rain fell in buckets and kept most people inside aside from those who had no choice like the city guard and a few souls like herself as she glimpsed the Thief and his daughter sneaking down a back alleyway - using the rainy gloomy day to there advantage... She tugged her cloak around her as she walked down the hill to the stable to rent a horse before riding it into the forest...

The forest was thick and deep that surrounded the city...It was fairly hard not to get lost but Intella was one of the few people who knew the maps quite well so she knew where to head... Once she got on the trail it was fairly easy to follow the blue flowers towards the castle as they were planted by the last noble who lived there... According to the legend.

Long ago, a demon king had bought the palace as he looked for a beautiful human girl he was sure was to be his bride... Of course, many came but never the one he was looking for.  And then the birthday ball he held on her birthday every year came - And so did she.  The excitement short lived however as his 'glamor' faded away at midnight and everyone found out that there king was a monster. The only person who didn't run was the beautiful girl whom he decided to run away with and the two disappeared into the night.

Some books stated that the actual story involved much more violence but it wasn't the popular version.  The flowers were supposedly her favorites hence why he had them planted to attempt to attract her but like everything else on the trail it'd overgrown quite severely but she and especially the horse managed through until she reached the remains of the castle that were...surprisingly not as bad. There was overgrowth but the garden still seemed rather, fine. As did the castle it's self...why did nobody want to live here? She questioned as she road up to the massive building.

Intella hitched the horse and gathered her things from the side bag, a lantern and a small knife, she doubted anyone was there but she thought she might need it depending on the state of the building or the animals that lurked in the forests, walking up the stairs... Her eyes darted behind her glasses up and down at the door as she hesitantly pressed her hand against it, pushing it. The loud creaking sound echoing through the empty front hall as the light seemed to cut through the dust in the air.

The front hall was as massive as the building was and so open that it seemed even her breath echo'd back at her... Dust coated things with only small disturbances here and there but she figured it was as much likely of a stray cat as a person.  

She'd found a couple old sketches of the layout of the castle so she had a general idea where to go as she walked inside...granted, she kinda just wanted to explore the brilliant building as she lit the lantern and could take in the intricate carvings in the wood...

Her boots echoing as she stepped forward and the floorboards creaking as the door caught the wind and slammed shut... She jumped only a little before shrugging her shoulders and taking in a breath as she examined several rooms on her way towards what was supposed to be the library. Most of them were gorgeous and still furnished and that brought her hope for the books in the library...  It would've been in the east hall so the side of the castle connected on the other side of the ballroom. Perfect. She wanted to see the said ballroom as it was a big factor in the 'legend' 'story' etc.

And it lived up to her expectations... It just looked as if a party ceased entirely. Tables still set up and covered in dust. The remains of food that the animals had taken care of aside from the bones still on plates.  What she found the most interesting was the dull red mark across the floor... The dots that matched on the windows practically confirmed the 'violent' version of the story...She didn't feel any unease about it - It was forever ago. And perhaps he wasn't a demon but something else. Skeptical as always...

Her excitement grew as she picked up her pace towards the library and grasped the door handle only to suddenly, finally, hear a voice. It jumped her more then she'd ever admit to but it wasn't angry - just...Sad.  

"Please, leave..." It said loudly but meekly from the shadows of the hallway...

"E-excuse me..? Who's there?"  She stared into the darkness, peering past her glasses...

"Please, Leave."  He repeated.

Intella frowned a little bit as she placed one of her hands on her hip. "No." She stated firmly and it seemed the dark figure hadn't expected that reaction.

"W-What?"

"It's pouring out. I came here to see the library and I intend to see the library!" She had to be difficult, it was her nature. Her fingers grasping the door as she firmly yanked it open and the light of the fireplace in the library filled the entire hallway - The man stepping back quickly.

"No - No, Please don't..."

At first she thought he was talking of the library but in the warm light she realized he was trying to hold and arm in front of his face...He looked normal enough from what she could see... He was tall and lanky though she noted one of his hands looked injured and the other one - It didn't even look human.   Her fingers hovering over her pocket with the knife for a moment before he began to lower his arm futilely... His red hair falling in his face - his face. One eye was a bright glowing purple and the other one a deep dark black... Half his face was deformed - demonically. It looked like what she'd read about in books.  She was still skeptical about the supernatural aspect however but she slowly walked forward as she lifted up the lantern to get a better look at him and letting out a faint noise as she seemed to decide something. "Do you live here..?"

He seemed hesitant to answer but slowly nodded as he trembled a little. The smile on her lips was soft and simple as she looked up at him. "May I please see the library..?" She asked, avoiding comments on his appearance since it was clear he was sensitive.  He nodded slowly as she turned on her heel and walked back to the library and practically dropped her lantern as she finally focused on it.  Just like the main hall the ceilings were as high as the building...The books lined the walls from top to bottom and in the middle of the room there was a large gap and then a deep wood fire that was burning ever so slowly... Two large sofas with coffee tables and end tables around them  and judging by the mug and book on the coffee table it was where the strange man spent his time.  

The look on her face seemed to soften the man as he spoke ever so quietly. "I've been here since last winter...I have only managed to read that section..." he pointed to one of the sections top and bottom - but there was almost 30 sections like that and probably over 100+ books per shelf let alone the entire case.  

Intella smiled brightly as she looked at him. "What's your name..?"

"Jonathan...?"

"Do you mind some company for awhile...?" She asked with almost a pleading look in her eyes and a small smile slipped onto the sad demon's face.

"Not at all..."

[thelostpagesofportlyndon]

Dumpster Files: Fairy tales I

Fairy tales I > Beauty and the Beast < "Honestly..." Intella's eyes practically rolled back into her brain as she walked down the street as she spat the sarcastic whisper out of her lips. She was considered, odd. The baggy men's shirt hung off her shoulder a little bit and the belt around her waist just barely kept it from just looking like a giant burlap sack over her torso. She wore pants unlike almost all of the women in the city at the time... And most importantly she enjoyed to read but not just romance novels or books aimed at women about parenting or cooking. She read everything... Action and adventure, mystery, supernatural. It was all fascinating to her... "That scowl isn't helping your cause, Intella." The soft voice followed behind her and her glare softened as she looked back at the short girl who trailed behind her... Valentina Constantine of the Constantine family was the youngest and despite her long fancy hairstyles and elaborately elegant dresses, she was a similar soul to Intella although unlike her she kept it quite private... 'borrowing' Intella's books on the side and smuggling them into her home and past her mother.   "Oh... It was simply that, Castiel. Honestly, He is repulsive. It wasn't just how he spoke of me but as he speaks of all the women around here. I'd love to give him a taste of what women really can do." "Oh... Well. He is quite the character..."  'quite the character' was Valentina for 'asshole' as she'd never would downright insult someone but always find a more polite way to do it... Intella felt a smirk slipping to her lips as she awaited what Valentina would come up with this time... "His words regarding me were quite degrading but you cannot expect more from one who lives in a barn." she stated, implying subtly that he was a pig without actually using the word. A smile on her lips of kindness despite everything. The harsh snort left Intella as she reached her steps, laughing faintly. unlocking the door and stepping inside. Valentina following without invite if only because Intella found the entire 'invitation' thing exhausting usually and she figured Intella would ask her to leave if she so wished her to...  but as Intella grabbed the teapot she was invited to stay for a while. There conversation mainly centered on books after that as Valentina questioned some words she didn't understand or things about the ones she read she didn't comprehend. She was a little less educated then Intella if only due to her mother's insistence that she was meant to be a trophy bride for one of the princes or a king, not a scholar.  But as there conversation was coming to and end Valentina recalled something. "Oh. I heard the strangest rumor the other day... I highly doubt it's true but the ladies at the parlor were talking about the abandoned castle in the woods? They claimed it was still filled with riches and 'a library that would fill several homes.' - Can you imagine such a thing?" Intella couldn't fathom what it'd be like to have access to that many books and how someone could abandon them... Though, perhaps it was just a rumor...   Intella packed up 'a dessert' for Valentina also known as two books she'd found that she felt Valentina would enjoy. It was there secret way of moving them around without question.  Intella pondering over the comment as she got ready to curl up for the evening with a good, brand new book... But the curiosity was what tended to get Intella into the most trouble. ---- The rain fell in buckets and kept most people inside aside from those who had no choice like the city guard and a few souls like herself as she glimpsed the Thief and his daughter sneaking down a back alleyway - using the rainy gloomy day to there advantage... She tugged her cloak around her as she walked down the hill to the stable to rent a horse before riding it into the forest... The forest was thick and deep that surrounded the city...It was fairly hard not to get lost but Intella was one of the few people who knew the maps quite well so she knew where to head... Once she got on the trail it was fairly easy to follow the blue flowers towards the castle as they were planted by the last noble who lived there... According to the legend. Long ago, a demon king had bought the palace as he looked for a beautiful human girl he was sure was to be his bride... Of course, many came but never the one he was looking for.  And then the birthday ball he held on her birthday every year came - And so did she.  The excitement short-lived however as his 'glamor' faded away at midnight and everyone found out that their king was a monster. The only person who didn't run was the beautiful girl whom he decided to run away with and the two disappeared into the night. Some books stated that the actual story involved much more violence but it wasn't the popular version.  The flowers were supposedly her favorites hence why he had them planted to attempt to attract her but like everything else on the trail it'd overgrown quite severely but she and especially the horse managed through until she reached the remains of the castle that were...surprisingly not as bad. There was overgrowth but the garden still seemed rather, fine. As did the castle it's self...why did nobody want to live here? She questioned as she road up to the massive building. Intella hitched the horse and gathered her things from the side bag, a lantern and a small knife, she doubted anyone was there but she thought she might need it depending on the state of the building or the animals that lurked in the forests, walking up the stairs... Her eyes darted behind her glasses up and down at the door as she hesitantly pressed her hand against it, pushing it. The loud creaking sound echoing through the empty front hall as the light seemed to cut through the dust in the air. The front hall was as massive as the building was and so open that it seemed even her breath echoed back at her... Dust coated things with only small disturbances here and there but she figured it was as much likelihood of a stray cat as a person.   She'd found a couple of old sketches of the layout of the castle so she had a general idea where to go as she walked inside...granted, she kinda just wanted to explore the brilliant building as she lit the lantern and could take in the intricate carvings in the wood... Her boots echoing as she stepped forward and the floorboards creaking as the door caught the wind and slammed shut... She jumped only a little before shrugging her shoulders and taking in a breath as she examined several rooms on her way towards what was supposed to be the library. Most of them were gorgeous and still furnished and that brought her hope for the books in the library...  It would've been in the east hall so the side of the castle connected on the other side of the ballroom. Perfect. She wanted to see the said ballroom as it was a big factor in the 'legend' 'story' etc. And it lived up to her expectations... It just looked as if a party ceased entirely. Tables still set up and covered in dust. The remains of food that the animals had taken care of aside from the bones still on plates.  What she found the most interesting was the dull red mark across the floor... The dots that matched on the windows practically confirmed the 'violent' version of the story...She didn't feel any unease about it - It was forever ago. And perhaps he wasn't a demon but something else. Skeptical as always... Her excitement grew as she picked up her pace towards the library and grasped the door handle only to suddenly, finally, hear a voice. It jumped her more than she'd ever admitted to but it wasn't angry - just...Sad.   "Please, leave..." It said loudly but meekly from the shadows of the hallway... "E-excuse me..? Who's there?"  She stared into the darkness, peering past her glasses... "Please, Leave."  He repeated. Intella frowned a little bit as she placed one of her hands on her hip. "No." She stated firmly and it seemed the dark figure hadn't expected that reaction. "W-What?" "It's pouring out. I came here to see the library and I intend to see the library!" She had to be difficult, it was her nature. Her fingers grasping the door as she firmly yanked it open and the light of the fireplace in the library filled the entire hallway - The man stepping back quickly. "No - No, Please don't..." At first, she thought he was talking of the library but in the warm light, she realized he was trying to hold and arm in front of his face...He looked normal enough from what she could see... He was tall and lanky though she noted one of his hands looked injured and the other one - It didn't even look human.   Her fingers hovering over her pocket with the knife for a moment before he began to lower his arm futilely... His red hair falling in his face - his face. One eye was a bright glowing purple and the other one a deep dark black... Half his face was deformed - demonically. It looked like what she'd read about in books.  She was still skeptical about the supernatural aspect however but she slowly walked forward as she lifted the lantern to get a better look at him and let out a faint noise as she seemed to decide something. "Do you live here..?" He seemed hesitant to answer but slowly nodded as he trembled a little. The smile on her lips was soft and simple as she looked up at him. "May I please see the library..?" She asked, avoiding comments on his appearance since it was clear he was sensitive.  He nodded slowly as she turned on her heel and walked back to the library and practically dropped her lantern as she finally focused on it.  Just like the main hall, the ceilings were as high as the building...The books lined the walls from top to bottom and in the middle of the room there was a large gap and then a deep wood fire that was burning ever so slowly... Two large sofas with coffee tables and end tables around them  and judging by the mug and book on the coffee table it was where the strange man spent his time.   The look on her face seemed to soften the man as he spoke ever so quietly. "I've been here since last winter...I have only managed to read that section..." he pointed to one of the section's top and bottom - but there were almost 30 sections like that and probably over 100+ books per shelf let alone the entire case. Intella smiled brightly as she looked at him. "What's your name..?" "Jonathan...?" "Do you mind some company for a while...?" She asked with almost a pleading look in her eyes and a small smile slipped onto the sad demon's face. "Not at all..."

[europetravelmag]

You have probably heard of the 4 great C’s of Loire: Cheverny, immortalised in Tintin’s Château de Moulinsart. Chenonceau, the elegant castle of the ladies. Chaumont, with its medieval suspension bridge and Chambord, with its 400 rooms and almost just as many chimneys.

You may even have read something about Villandry, with its beautiful garden, Angers and the famous Apocalypse Tapestries or Clos-Lucé, that was home to Leonardo da Vinci.

This story is not about them. Instead, it’s the story about 5 other castles, that all have a unique story to tell. One castle is filled with alchemist signs, another has its own theatre and a third has a Marble Lounge, that’s worth of Versailles.

Let’s discover these five fabulous  – or rather underrated – castles of the Loire Valley

Loire Valley = Castle Country

If Czechoslovakia is the country with the highest density of castles per square kilometre, the Loire valley must come in a close second. No less than 42 castles make up this Unesco World Heritage classified landscape and Chambord, the biggest castle in the world, is part of the list.

The area is perfect for a romantic getaway. Cruising with the car along the lazy Loire river, discovering castle after castle, dining al fresco in medieval towns, where illuminated cathedrals and shrieks of swallows serve as backdrop. You can enjoy the terroir of the wines: sparkling wines from the cool cellars of Saumur, crisp whites from Savennieres or dark reds from Anjou together with excellent food and turn your castle roadtrip into a gastronomic one as well.

Welcome to France!

Alchemist signs and a style in transition

Château Plessis-Bourré was built in less than 5 years from 1468 to 1472 by Finance Minister Jean Bourré, the principal advisor to King Louis XI. This was a curious time for building castles. The architects had one foot in the Medieval past and the other in the Renaissance future, and thus Château Plessis-Bourré is a perfect example of the so-called transition style.

Double drawbridges, large moats, a parapet walk and dungeons classified it as a medieval fortresses, yet the arcaded gallery, stately courtyard, rich decorations and the comfort of the interiors classifies it as a Renaissance palace.

Jean Bourré was an alchemist and that was considered a dark art in medieval times, where science was in embryo. So he had to hide the signs, that would be recognized by fellow alchemists. And he hid them in plain sight, in the decorations and ornamentations of the rooms.

Especially the guardroom, which follows the taste of the medieval society for symbolism in images, seems to declare Jean Bourré’s interest in alchemy. The ceiling is composed of 24 sections and 16 of them symbolize the search of the Philosopher’s Stone, the alchemistic symbol of richness and eternal life, while the other 8 represent the laws, that the alchemist had to follow during his quest. This iconography is completed by other decorations everywhere in the castle, especially on the doors, façades and the main stairway.

Double drawbridges, one of which can be operated by only one man

Original layout of the castle

Elements of a Renaissance castle..

The courtyard is stately and owes to the Renaissance influence

Now a library, this arcaded gallery was used as an infirmary during WWI. And the weapon of arms on the fireplaces were removed during the French revolution. Photo courtesy of Chateau Plessis-Bourré

The ceiling of the guardroom was later painted over, because it was considered too bawdy – that’s why the colours are still so vivid! Photo courtesy of Chateau Plessis-Bourré

Elements of a Medieval fortress..

Visit Château Plessis-Bourré yourself and go on your own alchemist symbol treasure-hunt!

Château Plessis-Bourré website

Study in Light and Marble

Château de la Lorie was built as a Renaissance castle in 1650 and was so luxuriously decorated, that the developer, René le Pelletier, ran out of money and was forced to sell his castle to his son-in-law, Gabriel Constantin. Stables were added and the castle was modernized through the next hundred years.

The large marble lounge from 1780 is the pièce de résistance of the castle and is exceptional, since the techniques used were usually dedicated to royal palaces. Built in the Age of Enlightenment, where the style of Neoclassicism drew inspiration from the classical art and culture of Ancient Greece or Ancient Rome, it’s no surprise that the masterpiece looks like a hall from a Greek palace.

The room is similar to the opulent Salon de la Guerre et de la Paix in Versailles, but more pure in its Greek expression, whereas Versailles is just ridiculously lavish. The pieces of furniture, by Parisian cabinetmaker Pluvinet from 1779, are still used in the marble room and the collection is so complete and well preserved, that it has been lent out to several museums over the years.

Château de la Lorie was built as a Renaissance castle in 1650 and was so luxuriously decorated, that the developer, René le Pelletier had to sell his castle to his son-in-law, Gabriel Constantin

The library is pleasant, light and decorested with Louis XV and XVI furniture

The large marble lounge from 1780 is the pièce de résistance of the castle and is exceptional, since the techniques used were usually dedicated to royal palaces

The pieces of furniture by Parisian cabinetmaker Pluvinet from 1779, are still used in the marble room

The dining room was built with 1730’ Parisian style sculpted woodwork bought at the demolition of the castle of Vitry

The dining room from 1904 is a remarkable round dining room, signed by the Parisian architect Camut

Outside, a wonderfully wrought old Catalpa tree still watches over the castle

Outside, a wonderfully wrought old Catalpa tree – probably one of the first trees of its kind in Anjoy back when it was planted around 1790 – beside the terrasse, still watches over this study in light and marble.

Château de la Lorie website

Medieval mansion turned Renaissance residence

Almost every medieval castle underwent renovations and rejuvenations in the Renaissance. With peace and prosperity diminishing the need for fortifications, the nobility instead was looking for a way to show of their wealth and enjoy life in a comfortable castle. As is the story of Château de Montreuil-Bellay.

The first castle was built by Foulque Nerra, The Black Falcon, in the 11th century. He was count of Anjou, a warrior, a builder, a pilgrim and benefactor for monasteries and schools. Through this noble warrior, the House of Plantagenet descended and held the English throne for more than 300 years.

The castle was given to Foulque’s vassal, Giraud Berlay, also known as Bellay. Montreuil-Bellay could now begin its history. The Château of today was constructed between the 13th and 15th centuries. The end of the Hundred Years War in 1475 put an end to the English influence and ushered in a period of peace. This means, that the castle became a residence of leisure, not just a fortress for survival. Elegant additions replaced the defensive characteristics and turned the castle into a Renaissance residence.

As a part of a castle’s Renaissance evolution is also the addition of toilets and bathrooms. A rare example of this, is the Steam Bath system, that was installed in the former Canon’s quarters in the 15th century. A waiter would boil a large basin of water in the room at the bottom of the building and the steam then rose up through a pipe to a small room, where the bather would enjoy a hot steam bath.

Ancient Coat of Arms

Inside the defensive fortress, a quiet garden offer great views of the area

The kitchen is a prototype of a medieval kitchen with its huge central fireplace

Renaissance details

The Canon’s quarters housed servants and later, Canons of the Church

Montreuil-Bellay also make their own wine

The guided tour will take you to the cellar, where the wine was made and the Wine Brotherhood in the beginning of the 20th century should swear to a portrait of Rabelais: “When my glass is full, I empty it. When it is empty, I complain.”

Montreuil-Bellay also make their own wine and the guided tour will take you to the cellar, where the wine was made and the Wine Brotherhood in the beginning of the 20th century should swear to a portrait of Rabelais: “When my glass is full, I empty it. When it is empty, I complain.”

Château de Montreuil-Bellay website

Giant of the Loire Valley

While Château de Brissac, like most other castles, has a medieval history, the castle we see today is a Baroque behemoth built in the 17th century and the tallest in France. It has been in the possession of the same family since 1502 and now, in 2016,  514 years later, the descendants, the Marquess and the Marchioness still live in this grand Château with their four children.

This so-called “Giant of the Loire Valley” boasts 7 floors and more than 200 rooms. Not all are open to the public, but those who are, are lavishly decorated and furnitured. The Dining Hall with its walls covered with antlers and the Hunting Room with its massive 4-poster bed and 5 giant tapestries depicting hunting scenes. The dark red bedchamber of King Louis XIII and The Golden Lounge with its amazing coffered ceiling are just some of the highlight of tour through the castle.

The beautiful Art Nouveau theatre is an intimate yet large hall with 200 seats, born of the ambitious dream of Jeanne Say, Marchioness of Brissac and music lover at the end of the 19th century. The decadent addition is a testament to the tremendous transition the castle has undergone, from it’s construction by the tireless builder Foulque Nerra to the castle of today.

Medieval fortress meets Baroque splendor

The Golden Lounge with its amazing coffered ceiling

The Dining Hall with its walls covered with antlers

The dark red bedchamber of King Louis XIII

The Hunting Room with its massive 4-poster bed and 5 giant tapestries depicting hunting scenes

The beautiful Art Nouveau theatre is an intimate yet large hall with 200 seats

The kitchen is a testament to its medieval past

The tour of the castle ends in the cellar, where you can taste and purchase wines from the property

The tour of the castle ends in the cellar, where you can taste and purchase wines from the property. Here, the red Anjou Villages Brissac and pink Rose d’Anjou are aging in silence of stone vaults.

Château de Brissac website

Home of princes

Château de Serrant is a Renaissance castle, built on the foundations of a medieval fortress and the private residence of the Prince of Merode. The Château distinguishes itself by the richly furnished rooms with unique characters and especially its precious library with 12.000 old books.

The austere and desolate exterior of the chateau shouldn’t put you off. This study in schist and tuffeau stone emerged from its medieval foundations to a Renaissance palace in the 16th century. The huge kitchen still rests under the medieval aches of the old fortress, while the rest of the castle has been rebuilt.

A guided tour will take you through wonderful rooms, original furniture and display wonderful craftsmanship, like the Ebony Cabinet, a cabinet-making masterpiece conserved for more than 300 years inside the castle. It’s elaborately carved, reveals mirrors, rocaille, precious marquetry works and numerous secret drawers.

The highlight of the tour and castle is the extraordinary library with 12.000 old books. Treasures like the Encyclopedia of Diderot, Napoleon’s Egyptian Descriptions with illustrations made by Piranesi and La Fontaine’s Fables with drawings of J.B Oudry are all jewels, that crown this welcoming and unique room.

Château de Serrant is a light study in schist and tuffeau stone

The coat of Arms with it’s Fleur-de-lis, that is associated with the French monarchy

The Ebony cabinet conserved for more than 300 years. Photo courtesy of Château de Serrant

Photo courtesy of Château de Serrant

Established in the remains of the Medieval castle, the kitchen displays equipment from the beginning of the 20th century. Photo courtesy of Château de Serrant

Napoleon’s bedroom was actually never used by the Emperor as he stayed for only two hours. Photo courtesy of Château de Serrant

12 000 old books are carefully ordered in the shelves of the library. Photo courtesy of Château de Serrant

Château de Serrant is still a private estate and the current owners, the Prince and Princess de Merode, are descendant of the Dukes of La Trémoïlle.

Château Serrant website

This story is about 5 castles, that all have a unique story to tell. One #castle is filled with #alchemist signs, another has its own theatre and a third has a Marble Lounge, that's worth of #Versailles! You have probably heard of the 4 great C's of Loire: Cheverny, immortalised in Tintin's Château de Moulinsart.

[singledarkshade]

Magical Mix Up

Chapter Eight (Chapter Seven can be found here) Gideon sat on the Waverider, the others had given up trying to fix the ship and were talking quietly. Closing her eyes, Gideon felt the connection to her ship and smiled happily.

“Now, my dear one,” she said through their link, “Where is our wayward Captain?”

Slightly bemused at the negative reply, she mused for a moment, “Show me when they brought him onboard.”

Again a negative reply came from the Waverider.

Completely confused, Gideon thought before asking, “Show me the man that was held within the cells before the crash.”

This time the information appeared, and Gideon stared at the man. True there was a very close resemblance but as someone who knew Rip Hunter better than anyone then it was without doubt that this was a different man. That explained why the Waverider hadn’t alerted her about Rip’s return because the Legends had picked up the wrong man.

And he was currently lost in the past.

Wonderful.

Sara frowned as Jax told her that he’d tried everything he knew to fix the engines and from all indicators the ship should be working again. Turning to where Gideon sat staring into space, Sara decided enough was enough.

“Alright, Gideon,” Sara marched over to her, making the other woman turn, “It’s time for you to stop acting out and help us fix the ship. This is completely childish.”

Gideon stood and moved to face Sara, without a word she clicked her fingers, and the ship sprang to life.

“Sara,” Jax called from behind her, “Everything is back up and at full capacity.” Turning to where Gideon was standing, Sara demanded, “How?”

“As you can see, Miss Lance,” Gideon replied, “I control the ship. Our next issue is locating the man you took hostage.”

“I already explained that we were holding Rip to protect him,” Sara sighed annoyed, “You know what happened the last time, I wasn’t giving anyone a chance to snatch him and make him our enemy again.”

Gideon folded her arms, “Firstly, there is no one after us at the moment. Secondly, in order to do anything like that they would need a scan of Captain Hunter’s mind which they are unlikely to have. Thirdly, there are a number of ways you could have spoken with him to help return memories however I will concede this wouldn’t have worked.”

Suspicious Sara asked, “Why is that?”

Bringing up the recording of Rip while in the cell, Gideon remained silent.

“What?” Sara demanded confused.

Gideon frowned, “That is not Rip Hunter.”

Jax and Zari joined Sara at this pronouncement and stared at her then the screen.

“We know what Rip looks like,” Sara stated sounding annoyed.

Gideon nodded, “I will admit this man resembles him but that is not Rip Hunter.”

Jax squinted at the screen, “He has no beard, and his hair is lighter but it’s Rip.”

“Then where is the scar above his right eyebrow that he received as a child?” Gideon asked, before continuing, “Why does he suddenly have a group of freckles below his ear that have never been there before?”

They stared in silence at her none of them able to dispute what Gideon was telling them because all of them were well aware that Gideon knew Rip much better that they did.

“Now, there is a man stranded out of time,” Gideon stated angrily, “Lost and alone with no reason to trust any of us who we need to find.”

Sara grimaced, “John went out to search for him.”

“And has he found anything?” Gideon demanded.

The others looked at one another guiltily before Jax said, “We haven’t heard from him since he left.”

 The prison he was in had a dirt floor, and concave walls that went up to the hole in the ceiling and nothing else. John sighed in annoyance. He should have known this would happen, it was just the way the day had gone with the spell not working, the crash and Rip running from them.

Although he couldn’t blame Rip.

It must have been terrifying have a group of people claim to be your friend while keeping you hostage. John knew he had to get out of here and contact the others, because how much would ‘Rory the Nurse’ know about Ancient Rome?

His headache had thankfully begun to dissipate, which meant he should hopefully be able to perform a spell or two.

As soon as he found his way out of this place.

                                 *********************************************

 “And you’re sure you can get us in?” Rip asked as he and Rory marched through the streets.

Both were still in uniform, but Rory had taken back his own because he needed to feel comfortable to do this.

“Easily. I am Centurion Galeus Britannicus,” Rory stated before adding, “Although to family and friends, Rufus.”

Rip stared at him, “You’re serious.”

Nodding, Rory replied, “Travelling with the Doctor carries some risk.”

“Risks I get, but a whole new identity?” Rip asked, “With the knowledge you also have, means there is a much longer story.”

“There is,” Rory admitted, “But I’ll tell you after we’ve rescued your friend. For now, they’ll assume we’re twins which is a lucky omen, so all you need to do it stay quiet and glare. Quiet especially because not only is your Latin atrocious, your accent is even worse.”

Rip nodded, even though he wanted to ask more, instead noted, “Considering this is the night shift, how many guards do you think will have fallen asleep?”

“None, unfortunately,” Rory told him, before explaining, “There were severe penalties for guards that fell asleep on duty, usually stoning by the rest of their cohort, so whilst there will be fewer guards at night, they will be awake and vigilant. Which is why I’m hoping my title and our reason for visiting will give us some breathing space. Just make sure you do your part.”

Rip nodded again taking a deep breath as they reached the building. Rory had gone over the ways one single guard could defend the place, which was not making him feel any better, but they needed to rescue John. The other option was going to the Waverider and seeing if the team had managed to fix the ship enough for them to use the couriers. However, that could take too long, and the ship may need a lot more repairs taking up more time.

As insane as Rory’s plan was, it was currently their best one.

 Rory walked to the guard standing to attention at the front of the building.

“Centurion Galeus Britannicus,” Rory stated, steel in his voice, “The prisoner brought in earlier violated the home and bedchamber of our sister. I have been sent by the Senator to speak with the prisoner before he is put on trial.”

The guard looked at two men, obviously confused by the fact they were identical before jumping when Rory barked.

“Do I need to repeat myself?” Rory continued to glare at him, feeling Rip standing completely still at his side keeping an ice-cold stare on the guard.

“No, sir,” the guard replied, he moved to open the gates before speaking quickly to the guard just inside. Wincing at whatever the other guard said before nervously turning back to Rory, “Do you have an official order, sir?”

Rory pulled out the psychic paper the Doctor had given him and held it out so the guard could read it. He had been told the information would show if he was confident.

The guard nodded and turned back to the other one, who opened the gate and led them inside.

Rory watched as the second guard took a rope ladder from where it was stored and tossed it down the hole containing the prisoner they were here to see. Moving to one side slightly he watched Constantine climb out, the grating was slid back on and the man was grabbed by the guards. As soon as Constantine was turned to face him, Rory punched him sending him into the wall.

“We’ll take it from here,” Rory told the guards, who both nodded and left them alone.

 John rubbed his jaw as he tried to refocus after being punched. Unsteadily he stood to see Rip standing there, dressed in a soldier’s uniform, and staring coldly at him. It looked as though the spell had worked, there must have just been a slight delay.

“Did you have to punch me, Rip?” he demanded, staggering to his feet.

“Yes,” the other man stated coldly, “And as I’ve said many times before now, my name is not Rip.”

“But mine is,” a familiar voice came from behind him.

John slowly turned to where an almost identical man stood, dressed in the same outfit. He looked between them a few times before demanding, “What the bloody hell?”

“No time to explain,” the man, who was called Rory said, “We have one chance to get out of here, so shut up and do what I tell you.”

Glancing at Rip questioningly, John was stunned when his friend nodded, “Rory is in charge.”

“He’s a nurse,” John noted.

Rip shrugged, “With a few special skills.”

Drawing his sword, Rory turned to Rip, “Do it.”

With a slight smirk on his lips, Rip pulled out a small silver disc with a button in the centre and pushed it.

A few seconds later there was a pop then crash and Rory grabbed John’s shoulder pushing him forward.

“Run.”

 Rip ran with Rory towards the two guards who had been dazed slightly by the gates being blown off the walls. John was pushed past them, but they managed to regain their senses as Rip and Rory started out. With their swords drawn, Rip defended himself stunned to see Rory just to one side fighting with ease as though the sword was an extension of his arm. There were very few he’d ever met who could fight with such fluidity.

As they managed to get past the two guards, Rip and Rory began to run after John. The other guards from the prison were chasing them.

“We’re not going to make it to the Waverider,” John called.

Rory grabbed John’s shoulder to making him turn the corner, “That’s not where we’re heading.”

Rip smiled to see the TARDIS sitting in front of them, Amy standing at the door waiting for them. The moment they reached the door, she moved out the way allowing the three of them to run in before she slammed the door shut. The Doctor threw the lever to move them out of the city.

 John took several deep breaths of relief when they entered whatever the hell the blue box was. His head was full of questions and as he stood to find the massive room that could not have been inside the little box, more were added.

Turning he saw Rip standing with his arms folded and a grim frown on his face, while the doppelganger, Rory was kissing the redhead who had been at the door.

“What the bloody hell?” John demanded again.

“You,” the redhead suddenly turned and marched towards John, “Abducted my husband…”

“Amy,” Rory caught her arm and pulled her back, “It’s okay.”

The redhead turned to her husband and frowned, “It’s not, Rory. They could have got you killed. Again.”

Rory gently pushed her hair back from her face, “I’m fine. And we’re together again. He thought he was helping his friend.”

Amy turned to John and glared at him for a moment before telling him, “You’re on thin ice.”

From the glare he was receiving John was suddenly very sure if she wanted to kill him, the other three would be holding her coat.

“Okay,” the final occupant of the room, tall with floppy brown hairs and a tweed jacket walked over to them, “Mr Constantine, welcome to the TARDIS. Rory is being very understanding about being taken by you and your friends, on the other hand I’m not as forgiving.”

“Hold on,” John held up his hands, “The spell I did to locate Rip found Rory. We had no reason to believe he wasn’t Rip.”

“How about the fact he kept giving you a different name?” Amy snapped.

John turned to Rip who sighed.

“I explained the Phil situation to them.” Rip said, “But even then, why was he put in a cell?”

Wincing John replied, “Sara thought it was for the best. To keep you safe.”

Rip and Rory shared a quick look of annoyance, before Rip continued, “Which leads me to my next question, what did they do to Gideon?”

Grimacing even more John held up his hands, “It wasn’t my fault.”

Rip’s expression become even more granite like than before, “What wasn’t your fault?”

Glancing around the room, John realised there was no help here and sighed, “I was using a protection spell on an idol from Thermiscrya and it somehow interacted with Gideon. Now she’s…”

“She’s what?” Rip demanded when John trailed off.

John sighed,” She’s human.”

Rip stared at him, turning to the other three to make sure he’d heard right, “What do you mean, she’s human?”

“Seriously, Rip there’s not many more ways I can say it,” John rolled his eyes.

“Gideon’s human?” Rip breathed in astonishment.

John nodded, “And she’s on the Waverider now.”

Rip caught the railing beside him and let out a slow breath, “Okay, I need to have a word with Sara anyway. Let’s head to the Waverider.”

“Doctor?” Rory said suddenly moving to the third man, “What’s wrong?”

“It looks as though your friends may have attracted the trouble we caused in the city,” the other man, the Doctor, replied.

Rip and John shared an annoyed look.

“Of course they have,” Rip sighed, “It appears I have another rescue mission on my hands.”

“That would be we,” Rory noted, “We have another rescue mission.”

Amy nodded her agreement before asking, “So, what’s the plan this time?”