#and then he gets decked by his opponent during his moment of shock

[supersecretnerd]

Oh horrible Google Translations by beloved

[bluewren]

*sneaks into your asks* Hi Wren I DESPERATELY need some Cassandra & Blackwall - for "This is going to hurt." from the Hurt/Comfort list (during that post-Revelations card game maybe 👀)

@dadrunkwriting

Got a working part 1 of this fic!

Working title: 'Forgive Me Friend in War, I Was A Fool'

The game they're playing is actually durak, it's a russian game that's similar to Spades. Have you ever heard of it?

Durak as means, fool

WC: 1104

She watches as Blackwall peal up one side of the cards then releases his two stacks of cards to revolve over one another. Cassandra found tbe sound similar to the sensation of running a whetstone over her sword.

“What are you playing?”

Blackwalls deals out cards from his hand, more focused on the rhythm of the flick of his hand than the gaze of the Seeker’s curiosity.

“Nothing at the moment.” He mumbles. “This is more a force of habit. Back in the days when I had my own troops to look after. Care to play a round?”

“I must admit that I’ve dallied with soldiers enough for them to offer me to be part of their games.” Cassandra raises a brow, although still choosing to take the seat opposite of the Warden.

“You’re respected by every soldier at Skyhold, and fought hard enough for everyone to fear you just as much.” One last card gets flipped up, Diamonds, then he places the deck over it. Soldier to soldier, Blackwall extends the invitation with a smile over his lips. “Perhaps it’s time for you to see how the rest of us grunts enjoy ourselves. The rules can be learned along the way.”

“I do find it humbling that you see me as one of your own.” She lets go a short giggle, her neck slants by shock at Blackwall's comment. ”Deal me a hand.”

He slides over one hand, then places Eight Spades on the table. “The suit of the card at the bottom beats everything. A higher rank of the matching suit beats my card.”

Cassandra watches the card fall onto the table. Her hand slowly extends out with the Jack Spades, cautious as a baby taking her first steps. This past time that she seen on top of crates from several dozen of her soldiers might as well be an Orlesian ballgown to her, awkward and ill fitting for her hands.

Watches Blackwall glides a Jack Clovers onto the table like an arrow flying to its mark.

She looks down at her cards, unfortunately no Clovers. She looks up and sighs. “I am without a card to play.”

“Then you can go pick those up.” Blackwall asserts, his hand flippantly gestures to their board. “They’re your’s now.”

“What has just happened?” The Seeker gawks, flabbergasted by the nonsensical interaction slide up and down between the board and her opponent.

All that Blackwall has for her was dry laughter. Barely an itch on his beard, everybody has started somewhere but she simply had all the tells of a beginner.

“Beginner’s luck isn’t always a thing. Just keep going at it.” He tries with all his might to not widen his smile. “You can take this too.”

A second Jack is added to Cassandra’s defeat.

“Ugh. Nothing about this game makes any sense.” Cassandra blurts out.

“Just keep going at it.” He repeats while drawing three from their deck.

They continue onto the second round. The rules slowly begin to seep into Cassandra’s head, this travesty of a game slowly starts to have some sense to her. Blackwall plays one, sometimes two of the same rank, then Cassandra does the same. This time, she closes six pairs of cards using the cards gained from previous losses then Blackwall gathers them all up and castes them aside.

Cassandra places down her own card, then Blackwall does the same. Slowly the exchanging of turns becomes a rhythmic act to one another, the cards demanding less of her attention than the words between two friends.

“It’s feels like there are cards missing. Why have I yet to see a two or a three.” She narrows her brows at the cards in her hand. Feeling bright about her revelation, but also cheated in the same breath.

“I’m not sure how that started, possibly from workers who couldn’t afford a second deck after they lost those cards.” He places down a card to match Cassandra’s. “We’ve been here for a couple months now, how has Skyhold been treating you?”

The question loosens the knot running down Cassandra’s shoulders.

“There’s always terribly much to do.” Even with eased minds, she still musters out a sigh. “I trust our Inquisitor but she has shown to be reckless.”

“She seems like a respectable woman.” Blackwall places down his starter card. “The soldiers like seeing her out there with them.”

Cassandra adds her own card, keeping her focus on the game. “She is also disagreeable. Josephine has many tales of Lady Lavellan scaring away the nobility.”

“Ha!” Cassandra looks up when Blackwall’s obnoxious snort reached her ears.

“Sorry.” The Seeker’s sharp gaze causes him to flinch and lean closer to the table. “I didn’t think you’d care that much about what the nobles thought.”

She takes in a breath, hoping she release all her thoughts within it. “Do you believe in the Maker?”

“I’m not as devout as I once was.” Blackwall admits.

“I fear that we might have been too hasty when we chose her to be our leader.” She continues with their game. “I must believe that she was chosen, but she doesn’t. She has always been unwavering in that.”

“I’m sorry that’s troubling you.”

“All of Thedas needs that, now more than ever.” The Seeker releases a delirious sigh, letting those conflicting thoughts out of herself. “The Maker is a guiding light to people in dark times, we risk becoming divided otherwise.”

“I wouldn’t say that all is lost, people follow because the Inquisitor is sticking her head out for them. Where she comes from, it doesn’t matter.”

“You make it sound so simple.” She lowers her head, sinking further into their game.

“Heroes and causes can inspire people more than gods do.” He pinches close his lips, shutting any unwanted words from escaping. “Take it from a Warden.”

“You have given me much to consider.” Cassandra nods, reaching place her Ace on the table. “But please, I would prefer if Taliesen doesn’t not hear a word of this.”

“Not a word to our inquisitor.” Blackwall nods.

He closes the pair with a trump card but a second Ace gets released.

He chuckles, looking up from his cards to Cassandra and then back. He rubs the edges of his mustache, proud in being out played by his opponent.

“You are getting better at this.”

“Thank you.” Cassandra smirks, taking in more of that dumbfounded astonishment that Blackwall has. She extends a handshake to the Warden. “This has been an enjoyable distraction. I would love to do this again.”

“Any time.”

[empressapprentice]

Arcana Headcanons: M3 + MC Who Beats Everyone at Chess

Hello friends! The lovely @firefly-child posted about a fun game called Request Roulette. They post a prompt, and anyone who wants to is free to fill it. The first prompt is: “How would the main 6 react to MC beating like every person that’s goes against them in chess but at the end they whisper to the LI that they actually have no idea how to play chess and just kept moving pieces till they won” and also includes the lovely line “hehe move pieces around make brain go brrrrrrrr.” I just had to do this. I’m going for a bastard version of The Queen’s Gambit here.

Housekeeping stuff: This is just the main 3, although I have some ideas for the other characters and will be posting soon. I also wanted to break the posts up because despite this being incredibly silly, it still managed to be super long (oh well!). Also warning for some horniness in Julian’s, but nothing worse than what you see in game (couldn’t resist hehe). The good stuff is under the cut :)

Asra:

You and Asra don’t tend to play board games together, favoring card games that utilize his Tarot deck. So despite him knowing you so well, he doesn’t realize you have absolutely no clue how to play chess.

Asra learned to play during one of his many trips and it became one of his favorite ways to distract himself. Playing chess didn’t require the friendly camaraderie that other games do (something he couldn’t muster while mourning you or during your recovery) and gave him something to focus on other than you. He got surprisingly good over time. Though he never put any real time into studying strategies, he has an uncanny ability to figure out his opponent’s plan, always countering it perfectly.

So when the two of you join an informal tournament and you start doing really well (like, really well), Asra just can’t take it. He can hardly believe that you were hiding this skill from him for all these years. He’s looking at you with so much love in his heart and a goofy grin on his face.

When you take a break before the final game and beckon Asra over, he assumes you’re nervous. He peppers your face with kisses and leans over to give you words of encouragement, but you stop him. You instead whisper in his ear, telling him you’ve been just pushing pieces around randomly. He pulls back, a look of shock on his face. Then, he breaks out into peals of laughter. 

Knowing your secret does not diminish Asra’s enjoyment of watching the final game at all. For a moment, he considers resting Faust on your shoulders and using her to communicate possible moves, but he decides to take a step back and let you work. He truly doesn’t care that you’re faking it, he’s in awe of you. His eyes even get a little misty when he thinks about how far you’ve come since the resurrection, the picture of cool confidence in front of the crowd.

When you win, he picks you up in his arms and spins you around. Sure, you may not be a secret chess genius, but it is just like the person he loves to manage to pull this off.

Nadia:

Nadia has been trained in a wide variety of strategy games and genuinely enjoys playing them. She occasionally studies chess strategies to keep her skills sharp. There’s nothing she enjoys more than the challenge of cracking a puzzle. It’s just like when she tinkers with mechanical projects: there’s always a “right” answer to each move her opponent makes, and she loves to figure it out.

She’s hosting a friendly competition with some fellow politicians and dignitaries in the salon. She encourages you to play a game, since it’ll look good for the Countess’ partner to be an active participant in the games.

She’s pleased to see you win your first game and continue to work your way up through the ranks. There’s pleasant chatter in the room while everyone compliments the Countess’ choice in partner. She’s proud of you, but her competitive edge is seeping in. She can’t believe that you hid your talent from her--she’s impressed, a little turned on by your chess prowess, and determined to take. you. down.

Soon, it becomes clear that you will need to go against Nadia. You’re shaking in your boots. You got this far against your other opponents, but you genuinely didn’t care about the outcomes of those games. All you wanted was to help Nadia host a good afternoon of friendly games. But now you’re in too deep. You need to put up a good display of strength against your wife, and ideally you would lose so Nadia can save face, but at this point you don’t even know how to move the pieces to get a certain outcome.

You and Nadia are seated across from each other and you are both trying to keep things friendly, but there’s a distinct undercurrent of tension in the room. You get first move as the reigning champion. Nadia takes a long moment, makes a deliberate move, then leans back and smirks at you. Uh oh, she’s feeling really competitive.

You go round for round, while you just move pieces based on your general whims. You can tell that Nadia is becoming slightly flustered, struggling to figure out your strategy. Finally, mercifully, Nadia pulls out a winning move. By now, the dignitaries have lost interest and the event naturally winds down after the game ends.

When you and Nadia are alone after the game, you know you have to tell her your secret. She detects the change in your mood and assumes you’re upset about losing. You turn to her, and the story spills out of you. You finish telling your story, breathless, and the two of you stare into each other’s eyes for a long moment before breaking out into laughter.

Julian:

Who brought a chess set to the Rowdy Raven? It looks so out of place in the tavern, where drunkards usually stick to playing cards and other simple games. The goal is usually to play as many rounds as quickly as possible to shuffle a few coins back and forth among the gamblers.

When Julian spots it, his eyes light up. He asks if you’d be willing to play a round against him, before a mysterious stranger walks up and claims the chessboard. They say that you’ll have to fight to use the chessboard. Julian’s already rolling up his sleeves, but you quickly realize that the stranger wants one of you to play them--if you win, you can borrow the board.

Emboldened by your drink, you push Julian away and sit across from the stranger. You know you’ve never played chess before, but how hard could it be? Turns out, not that hard. You just push a bunch of pieces around and soon, the stranger declares you the winner.

Julian swaggers up to the chessboard and sits across from you. Julian, the love of your life, who is so smart in so many ways, has also come to the same realization that you came to just moments ago. He has no idea how to play chess. 

“Hey, MC, how about the winner gets to ask a favor, ~any~ favor of the loser?” He’s waggling his eyebrows at you just like he always does. He’s calculated his odds of winning, and they’re not good. But he figures that if he wins, he’ll ask you for a kiss, and if he loses, he’s sure that your creative mind will find some use for him.

You play against each other, each making more and more questionable moves. You don’t know much about chess, but you think he’s moving some of the pieces in the wrong configurations. But you worry that if you call him out, you’ll expose your utter lack of chess knowledge. He also thinks you’re doing some weird things with the pieces, but he has the exact same concern.

Neither of you are willing to back down and admit you don’t know what’s going on. You also don’t know how to end the game. It’s something with the Queen piece, but which one is even the Queen?

The two of you play against each other, getting progressively drunker as you sip on Salty Bitters. A tankard or two later, you crack. You tell Julian all about your stroke of luck against the stranger and his grin just gets wider and wider. He tries to play it off like he’s an actual chess genius and he knew what he was doing the whole time, but you call his bluff. Better get him home, because soon he’ll be begging to be punished for lying.

[angsty-omi]

moving on.

oikawa tooru x reader; tanaka ryūnosuke x reader

genre: angst, heartbreak, cheating

word count: 767

!read part one here¡

The universal code after breaking up with someone is to dye your hair or get bangs, sometimes it’s both. You were a fallen victim to this.

With your hair now, a deep burgundy color, all because you decided you no longer wanted to be chained in this subconscious competition with her. You also, changed the way you dress, to where it was more on the grunge side. Something about it made you feel so comfortable like you were appropriately expressing yourself. It came as a shock to others when you showed up the next semester looking completely different. You came from being the innocent, damsel in distress Y/N, to “badass sexy Y/N,” your other friend claimed.

In the hallways, you would catch glimpses of him. To say that you’re over him would be a lie. At the end of the day, just because you left him doesn’t mean the feelings were gone. But every time your mind would start to wander, it was immediately blocked with a big red “NO” stamp in your brain.

You rarely saw Kiyoko either, it was almost like she deliberately ignored you. Although from a mutual friend, you found out that they never ended up together. Turns out, Kiyoko only liked the attention rather than him. You always knew it, but you kept that to yourself.

Kiyoko and Tanaka still continued to be somewhat friends, it was just easier that way since they were both in the school’s volleyball program. In turn, made you stray away from all of them for the rest of your high school career. Oh, how you wish it was that easy.

As the president of the student government, you were assigned to plan the homecoming volleyball game. Meaning all hands were on deck into repainting the banner, making personalized boards for each member, and standing on the sidelines.

You could feel Tanaka’s stare boring into your body. You tried to ignore it, with sneaky glances at him, but he was already looking. The only times you felt relieved, was when it was his turn in the rotation. You turned your body away from him and stared at the other team in distraction. Not paying attention, it came off as you staring at Aoba Johsai’s golden boy, Oikawa Tooru. His teammates thought the same too and nudged his shoulder, chuckling. During halftime, you were so lost in thought, you didn’t realize he was approaching you.

“Can you look any harder?” A voice came towering above you. You froze. Why was the captain of Aoba Johsai in front of you?

“O-oh sorry I didn’t mean to stare, I just- nevermind I’m sorry,” You were frantic, and tried to do something productive in front of him. It was apparent to him, that you were doing completely nothing. Your hands were flying all over the table in front of you, until he grabbed onto one.

He moved closer to your face, to which you reacted with blood rushing up to your cheeks. It’s not like you haven’t noticed his looks. Every girl that lived here and then some knew about him. Thinking he was going in for a kiss, you shut your eyes closed. Only to feel nothing. Instead, he moved over to your ear and whispered, “You’re weird.” You made a face, but then he quickly slid his number in your hands. Leaving you in a blushing mess. No one really noticed this encounter, because of the pep rally in the midst. Tanaka, however, witnessed it all, and boy, was he angry.

After the game, Karasuno lost. Turns out, Tanaka couldn’t get his kills right, it was either too far back or blocked. You stood outside the opponents’ locker room, waiting for Oikawa. He was the last to leave, you knew this because when his teammates would walk out, they’d holler.

“Oh hey… Y/N, right?” Oikawa asked. You looked down on your feet, feeling a bit hurt that he couldn’t even remember your name. You knew it was a risk getting back out there.

“I’m just going to g-” you started to turn around. He pulled you back, “It was just a joke,” he smiled.

“Listen, do you wanna grab something?” You hoped, biting your lip. He opened his hand out at you for you to grasp. After you both left, on the other side of the wall, Tanaka finally let out his breath. Sobs were racking up his body when he finally realized you’ve moved on.

He never got to tell you that the moment during recess was when he realized he loved you too.

@potatoquing thanks for your submission! i hope this gives some closure.

[worldly-diversity]

@rogaire​ ○ 𝕤𝕙𝕒𝕪 𝕒𝕤𝕜𝕖𝕕 𝕖𝕕𝕨𝕒𝕣𝕕 ○

      ⤷  『  💋  』

They'd always shared a particular kind of rivalry between them. Templar and Assassin, Rogue and Pirate, two sailors worth a damn and never one to back down, either of them. They were fierce opponents on their own, fiercer yet if they fought for a common cause, rare as that might be, but they were at their best against each other, driven by adrenaline and the urge to prove once and for all which of them was the better fighter or sailor.

They'd spend time chasing each other's tails, snatching the prize from underneath the other's nose, and plenty of time damaging each other's ships and engaging in very exhilarating sword fights once either one had boarded the other. Edward wouldn't have it any other way, honestly, and he doubted Shay felt any different on the matter.

Wild grins and clashing steel, that was their way.

Some say there's a fine line between love and hate, but for them it's more been akin to the blurring between the adrenaline of the fight and the idea of lust and flirtation, neither of which they could ever fully keep out of a fight. Flirtatious winks, suggestive comments, the occasional pause in their fighting when one had nearly pinned the other down, breathing in the victory with an air of smug accomplishment before their blade dance began anew.

This was one of those moments, the rubble of the Morrigan's deck difficult to dodge and Shay pressing his advantage until said rubble is digging into Edward's back, their swords crossed and that infernally smug look on the other's face that often makes him want to drop a sword and simply punch the man.

Instead, he catches the change in expression as it happens, from smugness to playful curiosity, a dip of his gaze from where they'd been pinning each other down with locked eyes as well as crossed blades, and before he knows it he hears that infernal irishman's chuckle and suddenly lips are pressed on his own, stunning the welshman into shock.

They'd flirted plenty during their adventures fighting one another to the point Adé had long stopped hesitating in telling them to bloody get a room already, a notion Edward had managed to scoff at until right this particular moment, with warm lips pressed insistently on his own… His grip on his swords loosened, just a bit, just enough for Shay to press closer and insist.

Now, before rational thought reasserted itself, Edward's competitive side reared its head and his lips parted, not in acquiescence but to bite the other's lip roughly instead. Whatever game Shay was playing, whatever had just changed in their relationship, Edward wasn't going to bloody well lose simply because the bastard had taken him by surprise. No sir, not going to happen.

When they parted it was a breathless thing, but he was thrumming with adrenaline and his eyes shone with challenge and desire as he smirked at the other, making a point of licking his lips.

"Well mate, you'll have to do better than that if you actually want to win against me." Courting danger he may be, but that's always been exactly where he wanted to be.

.

[juliandev0rak]

Bullet

Chapter Five of I’m Your Villain

Words: 3315

Warnings: mentions of death, blood, minor injuries, and brief mentions of past physical abuse

There is a long list of people that Cadmus hopes he will never have the misfortune of meeting again. He’s made many enemies over the years, both those forged through his job and his alliance with Avronne and those made through more… personal faults. 

Julian Devorak fits all of those categories.

When they’d first met in Macawi Port nearly five years prior, the red haired man had simply been another pretty face in a tavern. Julian was a traveler passing through the port city just as Cadmus had been, so Cadmus had flirted. He’d done a bit more than flirt. 

They’d hit it off, shared a few drinks, and when Cadmus had suggested going somewhere more private Julian had agreed. When he’d pulled him back to where he was staying Cadmus was a bit too preoccupied to care that the lodging in question was a boat. It wasn’t until later that he’d noticed the boat looked familiar.

He’d been sent to the port to find a pirate named Captain Wayland. As usual, Cadmus hadn’t asked why. He’d simply been sent to a specific location, given a description, and told to get rid of the target. He’d had no luck finding the Captain’s ship so he’d made a detour into one of the port’s many taverns where he’d gotten a bit distracted. But as Cadmus looked around the lower deck of the ship, he’d noticed a crate labeled “The Eel”, the name of the very ship he’d been looking for. 

At some point during the evening he’d learned that Julian was a ship’s physician travelling with a pirate crew across the world. It had never occurred to him to ask which ship. But here he was, exactly where he needed to be. 

So Cadmus snuck back up the stairs, certain that the red-haired man was asleep in the hammock he’d left him in. He’d found the Captain alone in his quarters and it had been quite simple to disarm the old man and take him out. It had hardly been a fight, really. As he’d cleaned his sword on the edge of the dead pirate’s coat he’d planned his escape route, confident that everything was going to plan.

But luck was not on Cadmus’ side that night and his companion hadn’t been asleep after all. 

A voice had startled him away from the dead Captain, and Cadmus turned to find an equally confused and furious Julian Devorak.

“What did you do?” He had yelled, and like any good doctor Julian rushed towards the body on the floor. 

It left Cadmus with a perfect escape route out to the port where he could disappear into the crowds. As he’d been making his exit, Julian lunged towards him so Cadmus had lashed out with his sword to block him. But he’d misjudged the doctor’s reflexes and instead of moving out of the way as Cadmus had expected, the blow had landed. 

Cadmus could only watch in surprise as blood seeped through the puffy sleeve of Julian’s white shirt. He’d mocked the man as he’d pushed past to get to the door, “There’s something to remember me by.” 

And he can still remember the icy tone in Julian's voice as the man had vowed, “If I ever see you again I will kill you.” 

After that, Cadmus had gotten away with little struggle. By the time he’d returned to his horse he had all but forgotten about Julian Devorak. He hadn’t thought about him once in the following years, until now.

Now Julian stands in front of him, only a few feet away. Cadmus holds his breath and shrinks back against the corner as he watches him. He hopes his illusion spell will last, but he’s never been very good at magic.

It’s not that he’s afraid of Julian, no, it's just that it’s terribly awkward to meet someone you’d once fucked in a hammock who had then sworn to kill you. Cadmus makes it a rule to never meet the people he’s slept with again. He’s a one and done sort of man, it’s for the best really. And adding revenge to the mix, well, it’s a bit messy even for him.

It would be better for everyone if he could get off of the ship now without anyone noticing, but he’s out of options. This ship is his only way out and if he has to kill everyone and learn how to steer it himself he will. Julian reaches for the barrel directly in front of Cadmus and he curses under his breath, wondering how he could have gotten so unlucky.

But Julian simply picks up the barrel and heads back up the stairs. Cadmus exhales in relief, thinking he’s safe, but as he inhales he feels a sudden tickle in his nose. He clamps a finger under his nose a moment too late and sneezes. He can’t help it, he’s allergic to dust and there seems to be quite a lot of it aboard this ship. 

“Merde,” Cadmus whispers. If his illusion spell had been strong enough it would have muffled the sound but, by the looks of it, his spell was nowhere near strong enough. He resists the urge to bang his head against the wall in frustration.

Julian stops halfway up the stairs and turns around. “Who’s there?” 

Cadmus stays silent, laying his back flat against the wall. He closes his eyes and tries his hardest to focus on maintaining the illusion spell, but he can feel it’s slipped. Agatha coils around his ankle and he tries to draw from her strength, it’s worked in the past but he feels nothing from her now. Julian stalks back to the corner, placing the barrel he’d grabbed on the ground as he searches the storage area.

Cadmus hears footsteps approaching and braces himself as a familiar pair of black boots stops in front of the row of barrels again. “I heard someone sneeze, I know there’s someone in here.” 

There are only so many places he can hide on a boat, there’s really no use in trying. If he gets up now at least he’ll have the element of surprise on his side.

So Cadmus moves out of the corner and lowers his illusion spell, watching as Julian’s eyes widen in shock. “Perhaps there's a ghost with a cold on board?” 

“You.”

He hadn’t expected the amount of vitriol in the other man’s voice and replies the only way he knows how, with bravado. “Hello Devorak, it’s been a while. You don’t seem pleased to see me?” 

Julian laughs incredulously, shaking his head as if he can’t believe what he’s seeing. “Why are you on this ship, Durand? Why would you come back after what you did?”

Cadmus reaches for his sword as Julian takes a step closer, just as a precaution. “I’m in a bit of a predicament. I’m sure you’ll be able to understand if you just give me a chance to explain-” 

“I said, why are you here?” Julian pushes the barrel blocking Cadmus out of the way and Cadmus takes a step back, feeling like the man is getting too close for comfort. “I needed a boat, I saw a boat, I got on the boat, it’s as simple as that.”

Julian grimaces, taking another step towards him. “You’ll pay for what you did to Captain Wayland! He was a good man.”

“Now, now, there’s no need to make a fuss. I’ll simply take my leave and you can forget you ever saw me.’’ Cadmus takes a step to the side, subtly getting himself out of the corner and towards the middle of the room.

“Not a chance.” The look in Julian’s eyes is one Cadmus knows well, it's the look of someone who’s about to attack.

Despite his obvious anger, Cadmus doesn’t believe that he’ll put up much of a fight. Sure, Julian is tall, and more strongly muscled than he looks beneath all of those ridiculous layers of coat, but Cadmus is certain that if it comes to a fight he’ll be able to take the scrawny man down. 

“Alright if you insist, we’ll do this the hard way. From what I remember you prefer it that way,” Cadmus laughs, drawing his sword. Julian glowers at him and takes a step back as Cadmus approaches. “En garde then.”

Before Julian has time to draw his own sword, Cadmus attacks. It’s not exactly gentlemanly, but he’ll take any advantage he can get. Julian reels backwards, barely dodging the blade as he reaches for the sword hung on his belt. He grabs it just in time, blocking Cadmus' next attack and using the momentum to launch himself forward as Cadmus retreats.

“I can do this all day,” Cadmus gloats, tucking one hand behind his back as he easily blocks Julian’s attack. He starts up the stairs, looking to get above deck where there’s more room and the possibility of an escape route. 

“You deserve to pay for what you did,” Julian calls as he chases Cadmus up the stairs, nearly slashing Cadmus’ leg. He’s fast, Cadmus can admit that at least.

“What, are you going to kill me? You?” Cadmus laughs, taking the final step up the stairs and onto the deck. “Don’t doctors take a sacred oath to do no harm?” “Yes, well, you’re not my patient. You’re a murderer.” Julian frowns in concentration, narrowly spinning out of the way of Cadmus’ blade as he emerges onto the deck. “And you’re a pirate.” Cadmus quickly scans the area, noting in relief that there’s no one in the immediate vicinity to aid his opponent. 

“Unlike you, I don’t enjoy hurting others.” Julian takes advantage of Cadmus’s brief moment of distraction and manages to graze his arm. 

Cadmus hisses and reels out of the way before lunging towards Julian like a wild animal. Julian jumps back and Cadmus notes with delight that a look of genuine fear flashes in the man’s eyes. Despite Cadmus’ intimidation Julian attacks again, hoping to take him off guard.

Cadmus parries easily, moving closer to return the attack. “You barely grazed me, you’re out of practice.” 

What he doesn’t expect is quick reflexes blocking his next hit before it can land and knocking the sword out of his hand.

“And you’re out of luck.”

Suddenly there’s a sword resting at his throat. Cadmus looks up at Julian, furious and trying to hide his utter disbelief that this man has nearly bested him. 

“Do it then, cut my throat and get your revenge,” Cadmus growls, pushing back against Julian as he presses him against the edge of the deck. He wonders if Julian will push him overboard instead, it would be less messy. Before Cadmus has a chance to see whether the man really has it in him, they’re interrupted.

“BOYS!” A brusque voice calls.

He looks behind Julian to see a short older woman running towards them. The sword at his throat drops and Julian sighs as he takes a step away. Cadmus tries to make a break for it, if his opponent is stupid enough to let him go he’s taking the chance. But Julian seems to anticipate the escape and grabs him by the arm before he can move. 

Cadmus gasps in pain as Julian’s hand clamps down on the spot where he’d cut him. He fights through it, managing to land a punch on the side of Julian’s face which sends the man flying backwards. He’s winding up for another when the woman pulls Julian further away.

“Ilya Devorak! What are you doing?” The old lady is brandishing a wooden spoon and somehow Cadmus feels she’d be a fearsome opponent even with only cutlery as a weapon. 

“What am I doing? He started it! That’s Cadmus Durand!” Julian sputters, taking a step away from the woman as if he’s also wary of her spoon. “That’s the man who killed Wayland!”

“I know who he is.” The woman turns to look at Cadmus, giving him a once over that makes him feel far too exposed. She and Julian have blocked him in, he has no escape unless he wants to jump overboard. 

“Well, we can’t let him live!”

The woman shakes her head in disapproval. “I won’t have murder on my ship, not unless you want to clean it up.”

“What are we supposed to do then, Mazelinka? Let him go?” Julian’s voice sounds flat with anger, and his face has grown nearly as red as his hair.

“We’ll lock him up until we decide.” Mazelinka yanks Julian away by the ear. “And you’ll bring him a meal later and see to that nasty cut you gave him.”

“But he’s a murderer, Maz!” Julian frowns, rubbing at his ear to dispel the pain where she’d grabbed him.

“And you nearly were too, Ilya. Follow me, we’ll take him to the hold.” Mazelinka grabs Cadmus by the arm, roughly pulling him back downstairs. She’s stronger than she looks, and from the way she’d said ‘my ship’ Cadmus realizes this woman must be the captain. 

Julian follows behind them, pouting as Mazelinka descends below deck. When they enter the storage room Cadmus calls for Agatha, if he has to be stuck in a cell he wants her with him. She slithers out of the corner towards him, hissing in alarm. He lets her drape around his shoulders, smiling as he notices both Julian and Mazelinka recoil. He might be a prisoner but with Agatha he can still defend himself.

Mazelinka brings him into a cell with thick iron bars and locks the door behind him. This certainly isn’t the first time he’s been imprisoned, but he’s never been locked up on a boat before. He truly has no way to escape and the thought quiets him, any taunting remarks he’d thought of die on his tongue. 

“Why do you have a jail cell?” Cadmus asks instead, scanning it for weak spots or loose bars out of habit. 

“We’re pirates.” Mazelinka grins. He can’t help but feel a shred of respect for her, she’d made him feel threatened with only a spoon and anyone who can do that deserves some credit. Now that he’s behind bars, she and Julian retreat to the deck. He can hear them arguing, though he can’t make out the words. 

Cadmus feels the boat start to rock as it pulls off from shore, and distantly he hears the sounds of someone above deck calling out orders. There’s really no escaping now.

A few minutes later, Julian comes back with a basket of supplies and a steaming bowl of stew. Cadmus warily accepts the bowl, trying to surreptitiously smell it for poison. He considers handing it over to Agatha who has a much better nose for poisons but Julian surprises him by taking the bowl instead.

“It’s not poisoned,” Julian sighs and takes a large bite. He waits for an exaggerated moment then hands the bowl back. “See, I’m not dead.” 

“Fine, give me the lousy stew.” Cadmus angrily takes a bite, finding that it’s nowhere near lousy. Whoever made this can really cook, at least if he has to be stuck here he’ll be fed well.

Julian reaches for his arm and peels back the shreds of Cadmus’ blood-stained shirt so he can see the wound. Luckily, it doesn't seem very deep and it’s already stopped bleeding. Cadmus is used to magical healing, his mother and her trained magical physician had always seen to it that his wounds were healed when he came home damaged. Though in some cases, his mother had been the one to cause the wounds. Simply part of his training.

Cadmus yanks his arm away, eyeing Julian suspiciously. “I thought I wasn't your patient.” 

“You're hurt, I’m a doctor,” Julian says, as if that explains anything. He rolls his shirt sleeves up to get them out of the way and pulls a clean rag out of the basket. He douses it with something from a glass bottle and Cadmus leans closer, wishing he could see what it was. He doesn't like being out of control like this.

“Earlier you seemed to be trying awfully hard to kill me, that doesn’t seem very doctorly of you.” Cadmus hides a wince as Julian cleans the wound with what smells like strong alcohol. He doesn’t understand why Julian would bother healing him.

It’s too dimly lit beneath the deck to see anything clearly, but he can see Julian's face silhouetted in the candlelight. He looks tired but resigned to his task. The flickering light highlights the sharp planes of his face and the blooming purple bruise on his check from where Cadmus had punched him. Cadmus finds himself staring despite his best efforts not to, it’s a good distraction from the pain at least. 

Been there, done that, bad idea, he warns himself, turning his gaze towards the wound instead. 

They fall into silence as Julian bandages his arm and Cadmus finishes eating. When he’s done Julian hands him a clean white shirt. “Yours is ripped to shreds.” 

Cadmus grudgingly accepts it and pulls his ruined shirt off. He hears Julian clear his throat and he smirks, taking his time pulling the new shirt on. He can feel Julian’s eyes on him but he keeps his firmly fixed on the task of buttoning the shirt. “Thanks for the shirt, Devorak.” 

“Get some rest, Durand. Try not to move your arm.” Julian rolls the sleeves of his shirt back down, fiddling with the cuffs in what looks like a nervous tick. 

“I thought you wanted me dead,” Cadmus laughs, lying back on the cot in the corner of the cell. Though the blanket on the cot is thin, this is certainly one of the nicer jail cells he’s been kept in. He stretches out, putting his good arm behind his head in a show of relaxation, though he feels anything but relaxed. 

“Yes, and I could just as easily heal you as kill you in your sleep, so perhaps you should listen to what I say and get some rest.” Julian still sounds angry, but the effect is dampened by fatigue. He looks at Cadmus for a brief second more before turning to leave, locking the cell door behind him. 

Cadmus can relate to the bone tiredness the doctor had displayed. He’s been on the run for days now, he can’t remember the last time he slept properly. Though his brain tells him he shouldn't trust these people, he figures he might as well get some sleep. If Julian wanted to kill him he would’ve done it already.

He tosses and turns fitfully, and when he finally manages to sleep his dreams are confusing and frightening.

He finds himself back in the snowy clearing from the dream he’d had before and he can sense he isn’t alone. When he turns he sees his sister standing before him. She wears a white dress stained with something dark, it drips off of her dress and pools in the snow below her. Though she stands only a few feet away with her arms outstretched towards him, Cadmus is stuck in place.

“Come back, Cadmus, you have to come back!” She pleads.

When Cadmus tries to open his mouth to reassure her no words come out.

“Don’t leave me here!”

Cadmus reaches out for her but his feet are still rooted to the ground. She calls for him again and suddenly Cadmus feels like all of the air has been sucked out of his lungs. He can’t breathe and he can’t move, and when he blinks Daphne disappears, leaving him alone and suffocating in the snow.

He wakes up with a start, trying to calm his racing heart as he takes in lungfuls of air. For the first time in his life, Cadmus feels something close to guilt.

[atemgirl94]

Pharaoh and Reincarnated Queen’s adventures pt. 5

What part of the Queen's soul that was sealed in her bracelet was in charge while the Pharaoh was in charge of Yugi's body.

"How dare you take my other soul!" Brittania said

The Pharaoh looked at her seeing she was like him but her words of the other Britt being her other soul. He could see it wasn't an act like his was for Yugi's soul. He looked at Bakura.

"Why have you brought us here Bakura? I'll duel you to get my friends free." Yami said to him

"Fine, but your friend's very souls are at stake here." Yami Bakura reminded him

As the duel started it seemed simple, only when Tristan's soul card was played was the real danger realized. For if a soul card was played and sent to the grave yard that person was lost forever it seemed.

'No, so if their soul cards get sent to the graveyard it could mean the end.' He thought

Brittania was watching from beside the Pharaoh not like she could really get in the game since only one could play this shadow game. As he kept playing he noticed that sometimes he was lucky but then he looked over at the girl beside him.

'if I lose her hosts soul card, she may die.' He thought

Brittania saw him looking at her "Keep your head in the game." She said to him

He nod as he concentrated on the duel infront of him, many turns went by before he had almost everyones soul card on the field. Everyones..except hers.

'how far in the deck did the Goddess of the Nile go?' he wondered as he was thinking about it. He had most of his friends on the field and she was last.

"Well seems you have your friends out but your girlfriend's soul hasn't been found in the deck." Yami Bakura said

Brittania shot him a glare as they were in the midst of all this. How could she expect anything else she wasn't the one dueling but she watched as he continued the duel seeing where it would go. It wasn't long before he got the card that held the other Britt's soul.

'here it is!' He thought but he knew it required one sacrifice. Luckily on the empty spot of the field he'd set a monster there till he got her card.

"Seems you got your girlfriend's card from the look of it." Yami Bakura said to him.

Yami didn't say a thing as he made his next move. "I sacrifice a monster to bring forth the Goddess of the Nile!" Yami said

The gang all watched as the card was placed down and Britt joined them on the field. She put a hand on her head.

"Wow, what a rush." She said before looking around seeing she was on a dueling filed.

"W-What's going on?!" She yelled before looking over seeing Yugi as Dark Magician. "Y-Yugi? But if you are here then who is..."

Britt looked up seeing there was two Yugi's and two of her.

"There's two of us?!" Britt asked

"Calm down Britt." Yami said but the Britt on the field blushed at the other Yugi. She'd seen him before she was certain of that but she couldn't place where she had seen him before.

Brittania was a bit annoyed "Calm down so you can win this." She told her younger self getting her attention. "You and I are the same person. If you die then so do I so don't die." Brittania said

'Die?!' She thought then realized that they were dressed as their favorite cards.

Yami continued to finish his turn "Alright, put your trust in me. Goddess of the Nile, Attack!" He said as Britt knew her own goddess's attack. "Nile Septar blast!" both Britt's said as she finished the duel.

"NO!!!" Yami Bakura yelled as he closed his eyes

It was later when everyones soul was returned that everything seemed normal. Yami turned to Brittania looking at her.

"Who are you?" Yami asked

"As I said, I am the same as her. But to answer your question, Queen. When she fully remembers I become part of her." She said before letting Britt take over.

'Queen?' Yami thought as Yugi took over.

Everyone was waking up from the way things had been it seemed as if it was some crazy dream. They all got up and walked out of the forest.

"Wow that was crazy, good thing Hathor wasn't here." Britt said

"Speaking of Hathor, where is she?" Yugi asked

"I don't know maybe she.." before she could finish Hathor was standing there infront of them.

"I'm right here, you all seem to of had a bad thing." She said to them.

Britt linked her arm with Hathor "come on, we got a tournament to finish." Britt said to her cousin.

Hathor was smiling and laughing with Britt, but Britt felt staring on her. She would look around but never see anything.

'My Queen.' She heard that voice, it sent shivers through her and she knew it was him.

Hathor snapped her fingers but was taking glances at Yugi with a smile. She'd developed quite the crush on Yugi and couldn't deny that. Britt looked at her wondering what was going through her mind.

"Stay focused, don't let your dreams take control." Hathor said

The group made it eventually to the finals, sitting at a table was Mai, Hathor, Britt, Yugi, Joey, Bandit Keith, Tristan and Tea.

As they were sitting Britt was thinking about the whole thing back with the shadow game. She knew there was a lot going on around then. She knew she blushed at the moment she'd seen him and something about him was familiar to her but she shook it off.

'Focus, finals. Whose going to be my opponent?' She thought

Just around that time bowls of soup was put infront of them and then before they knew it some of the soups had hand crafted Millennium eyes stick out. Britt and Hathor freaked a bit since they didn't expect it. Each of them opened the eye that received one which had a number inside of it.

Mai had the number 1, Yugi had the number 2, Joey and Bandit Keith had the numbers 3 and 4 but Britt and Hathor were shocked because they had the numbers 5 and 6.

Croquet came out and introduced himself. "My name is Croquet and some of you were given numbers. Above is a screen telling you who your opponent will be and then how it will go from there." Croquet said

Britt and the others looked up seeing who they were dueling. Yugi vs Mai, Joey vs Bandit Keither, Britt vs Hathor and then it shown a three way duel that

When it came to the duels Britt watched the one between Yugi and Mai, at first it seemed as if Mai would win and she wondered what had happened knowing that she'd parted ways to go with Hathor towards the end. Though Yugi came out victourius.

Britt hadn't stayed around much for Joey's but she did catch the end to see Joey's duel, Now it was Britt and her cousin.

When each of them were there standing, Britt was hesitant.

"You ready?" Hathor asked

"Your my cousin, I can't exactly say no." Britt said

"Then consider this our rematch." Hathor answered

As the duel began it looked as if it could go either way knowing that the way things were it wasn't going to do much.

Water types vs Fire types didn't seem like it was no brainer.

"Eh, Yugi. Hathor is a fire type duelist so doesn't that mean she'd win against Britt?" Joey asked

"Not necessarily. Britt became champ back in her home town for a reason." He said

Continuing to watch it was Nile Goddess vs Fire Dragon and it didn't seem either was giving up but when Britt smiled.

"I activate Nile Crystal! As long as I have the Goddess of the Nile or one of her pets on the field then I can summon this." She said pulling a card from her hand.

"Nile Pet Dragon! Now Combine powers and attack her fire dragon." She said finishing her duel.

After that it was a three way duel that could go either way. Yugi vs Joey vs Britt so that was one everyone wanted to see. Britt and Yugi were enough to challenge each other that Joey didn't have much but it was a good duel when it came down to it. First Joey lost but then it came down to the biggest fight. Britt looked at him knowing about the whole thing knowing she was going against her Pharaoh.

'sorry but I'm not backing down." She thought

When it came down to final rounds to figure out how would win Yugi or Britt, Yugi came out victorious finding a chance to eliminate her so he would go against Pegasus.

Everyone gathered above on the balcany as Yugi's duel with Pegasus was about to start. Britt was getting a bad feeling about Pegasus and she seen him look at her.

'what does he want? Clearly he didn't invite me just to watch me lose to Yugi?' She thought

Looking down at Yugi, she knew he could win somehow but she was aware that he was aided by the Pharaoh.

When the duel started off normal minus Pegasus reading Yami's every move, it seemed almost hopeless for Yami to win. Britt was panicking a bit because her other side was getting her all worried that he would be lost, suddenly there was a dark mist going around them to the point no one could see them.

Seeing this all of them ran down there and tried to get through to get to Yugi. Britt and Hathor made it in and Britt gasped a bit holding her neck feeling like she couldn't breathe. Hathor had a hold of her around this time.

"Britt, what is this?" Hathor asked

"Sh-Shadow Game." Britt answered

Pegasus saw them not far away "well well looks like we have a couple guests." He said

Yami looked back at them "but how?" He said

Yami noticed two items glowing on the girls, one was Britt's bracelet and the other was around Hathor's ankle. He made a motion and Hathor brough Britt forward as they kneeled down to watch Hathor was trying to breathe now having problems.

Britt fought to stay awake during the duel with Hathor as they were having a big time having a difficult to control as they watched how Yugi and Yami would switch back and forth during a turn to keep Pegasus from knowing their card. To Britt that was a neat trick that she figured her and her other side could use sometime.

"Looks like they're gonna win." Hathor said

Just as she said this Yugi fell forward leaving Yami alone not knowing what card he placed down but had to have faith..

Pegasus looked at the two girls still seeing their items glow. "So the rumors are true, the reincarnated Queen and her princess cousin in my tournament." Pegasus said

"You'll...lose." Britt said to him

As the two were watching they seen Yami take Pegasus down and by the time the shadows cleared and everyone could see them again. Britt had fallen unconscious so Yami picked her up. Hathor didn't like it as she stood up seeing the Pharaoh holding her cousin.

They went searching later to find where Pegasus may have been keeping Mr. Motou's soul. It was a hard run and at first it seemed as if they were figuring out their next move. Tristan and Bakura were in the midst of getting a grappling hook connected to a string once it was connected they looked between the group.

"Tea you go first." Tristan said

"You are crazy!" She said making a motion with her skirt because she had a short skirt that if the wrong way they could see up her skirt.

"I'll do it." Yami said, he adjusted Britt with Hathor's help so her legs were wrapped around his waist and he was able to climb up with her on his back. Hathor went behind so if Britt fell she coud help and behind her was Tea with a blindfold Tristan Joey and Bakura.

When they'd gotten in they found a room and a book. Tea grabbed it and read it as they were looking around it told of Pegasus adventure to Egypt.

As they came across the cards seeing they were empty it was clear that the souls had been released. Now they were heading out to get out of the room. Britt by this time had woken up and was standing on her feet.

"Hm, what hit me?" She asked

"Long story" Yami said

Yami let Yugi take over as they were heading down stairs to leave but then suddenly a man appeared. Britt recognized this man as she'd seen him before.

"You...You're the one who..said.." Britt started but he wasn't looking at her but more looking at Yugi who held the puzzle.

He walked towards them as he put his key out and went into Yugi's mind. Britt who was standing there accidentally got sent in with Shadi. She'd landed in the Pharaoh's room and looked around.

"Well, this must be destiny then." He said to her

She looked at him "Define destiny?" She asked

He chuckled pulling her to him as he leaned in close to her "You, Queen. You are linked to my past." He said to her

He was going to lean in to kiss her and she freaked out not knowing what to do before the door to his room came up. Pulling apart they looked seeing Shadi standing there.

"The girl, Reincarnated Queen of she who lived with a great pharaoh. She showed up here." Shadi said

"Who are you? What do you seek? I will allow no harm to come to the vessel I share with the boy." Yami said

Shadi explained that a Millennium item was stolen and he only wished for the truth.

"innocent until proven guilty. A common way for this." He said before taking Britt's hand in his.

"Allow me passage through your mind. I only wish to seek the truth." Shadi said

Yami snapped his fingers revealing the passage that was there. "Search to your heats content." He said as he disappeared with her.

When they arrived, Yami put her in a chair as he looked at her. She looked up clearly clueless about what was going on and what he may of wanted with her.

"I don't know if I believe all of this reincarnation thing." Britt admitted

"Maybe, Maybe not. You will come to terms with it sometime." Yami said to her

Britt wasn't so sure she would ever come to terms with something like this but she knew someway somehow she had to because of her other side.

'Brittania, she's not in here but I am.' She thought

Yami talked with her to get through what was going on but then Shadi came in. He was walking towards them when the ground started to cave in. Britt got up and she helped him with Yami before he fell in the hole. Yugi showed up as Britt watched Yugi and Shadi walk through a door.

"secrets, the puzzle holds secrets like the bracelet." Britt said

"The puzzle and the bracelet are linked." Yami said

Britt gasped at his words before she was sent out. It wasn't much longer before that the whole gang went home to Domino City.

[mydisenchantedeulogy]

In Chains (Chapter Nine) Common Ground (Trafalgar Law)

A faint noise tore Law from his research. He sat down the map of the New World and puckered a brow in uncertainty. Was someone singing? Perhaps he was tired. The moment he got back to his room, he pulled a map and began plotting the next phase of his plan. The first was not nearly complete, but he’d given no thought to it; not since Samira came into his life.

She was a distraction – that was for sure – taking his mind off his past and his scheme to take down Kaido of the Four Emperors. No … the crew had no idea about this, but he was going to tell them. Right now was not the time, because Samira was in the way. Her power was unreal; he wanted to employ her help, but he wasn’t certain how she’d benefit him once he collected the hearts he needed to sway the Marines.

Her demons were becoming more of an issue as of late.

Put her from your mind, he thought. His head pounded; he need to rest his eyes. Later he’d figure out her purpose.

Law squeezed the bridge of his nose to relieve the pain and stumbled over to his bed. As he sat down, he heard the noise again. Someone was really singing aboard his sub. He stood, bringing his sword as he tracked the noise to the deck. It was late, he noted. Samira and Ikkaku were at the festival, and the voice clearly belonged to that of a female. His guard rose as he crept out into the moonlight.  

Resting against the handrail was a woman he had never seen before, singing to the heavens as she faced the calm dark sea. Her voice was ethereal; the voice of a song bird.

“Care to tell me what you are doing aboard my sub? And who you are?”

She chirped a laugh and turned to face him. “Shame you don’t like music, Trafalgar Law. I know many songs.”

“You know me, but I have no idea who you are,” Law mentioned. He drew his sword as a warning; he was in no mood to play games.

The woman cooed and went into a curtsy. “Pardon me. I’m called Daryllyn; I came to chat with you about something.”

“You caught me at a bad time,” he mentioned. His sword remained drawn on her.

Daryllyn frowned. “You will want to hear this; believe me.”

“Make it quick,” Law retorted.

She pouted and leaned back against the railing. “Samira is in danger. There is someone other than Arsenio who is after her; someone who wants her dead.”

“And you know how?”

“Because she and I belong to the same crew,” Daryllyn answered. “However, our goals are much different.”

Law understood; he grunted in annoyance. “Samira. You’re another nightmare from her past.”

He paused to snort. “It would be less stress on me at this point to just let you take her.”

“In due time, however that depends on whether she lives or not. The fruit she stole is a high-priced item in the Underworld, and it took my master a long time to acquire it. Understand that if she dies, the fruit will not emerge for another two years, and I can’t take that risk; Master would be taken from me,” she explained.

Tears blurred her sight. The thought alone tore her apart; she couldn’t bare losing him. A sob tore from her mouth.

This woman made Law feel uneasy. She was obviously devoted to her boss, but a bit too obsessed in his opinion.

“Why not step in? Stop the person who’s trying to kill Amunet-ya.”

Daryllyn snarled at him and clutched her hands into a fist. “Because we have rules. I can’t interfere.”

“And you assume I care?”

Her eyes grew wide in doubt. Would he really allow Samira to die? Did he not value her as a crewmate? She got an idea, and dug through her rucksack, taking out a familiar item she knew would benefit him well.

An Eternal Pose?

Law stood in shock. How desperate was she?

“Take this as payment; it will lead you to the Isle where Samira is from.”

He snorted to cover his surprise. “I’m aware that the Isle resides inside the Red Line. I don’t need an Eternal Pose to get there.”

“I can provide you with information; whatever you want to know, like how to defeat Daiane.”

Law was unsure he could trust her, but she seemed desperate to save her boss. But from who?

“Answer every question I have,” he ordered.

Was it too late though?

--

Samira retreated as far as she could from the crowd, down a back street that wasn’t nearly as vacant as she had hoped; there were too many people to worry about. Shouting for them to evacuate the area, she wasn’t too annoyed that none of them listened. She was looked at like an idiot – perhaps they assumed she was drunk, and as a precaution she kept her Devil Fruit in check. Samira was horrified; she wasn’t certain where Daiane was or when she’d go in for the kill.

Rounding the corner onto the next strip, she noticed the street was barricaded at each end by a set of wooden sawhorses. She let out a long sigh and came to a halt – no one was around – but her relief was cut short as something took hold of her and yanked her off her feet. Samira hit the ground with a loud oomph, coughing as the air was knocked from her.

“Where are you going? There’s no place on this island you can hide from me.”

Samira wheezed and sat on her knees. “I’m not running. I was taking us somewhere private.”

She glanced around, but she couldn’t locate her. Where was she hiding? Her voice seemed to resonate from the houses, even when she laughed.

“You’re too cute,” Daiane cooed. “But that won’t save you.”

Again, Samira was yanked back. Her body spun and slammed into the ground; she cried in pain, landing on her casted arm. The hell was going on? How was Daiane able to touch her without being nearby? Did it have something to do with her Devil Fruit powers? She forced herself up and onto her feet. Something needed to be done; Samira wasn’t capable of taking on an opponent she couldn’t see. But how would she get her to come out?

An idea came to her.

“This is personal, isn’t it? That power hungry boss of yours would never let you kill me,” Samira panted.

Daiane snorted. “That much is obvious. He’d kill us, but I hardly care anymore. You took something from me; something he refused to let me take back.”

Her eye? She had both of them the last time Samira saw her; the day she escaped. Had she somehow injured her in the explosion? Her power went out of control that day, but she wasn’t aware anyone had been hurt. An overexcited laugh burst from her mouth, forcing her to cough.

“The hell is so funny?”

Samira wiped the tears from her eyes. “Are you serious? You’re mad because I unintentionally blinded you. I had no idea I even hurt you; it’s just so ironic … I mean you cause pain but can’t take it.”

She paused to stifle a pained cough; her side hurt so bad. “Want my honest opinion, sweetheart? It’s unprofessional to seek revenge over something you brought onto yourself.”

“Little brat,” Daiane hissed.

A sudden force sent Samira crashing through the wall of one of the homes near her. Before she could take a breath, she was yanked from the rubble and slammed into the ground outside. Her vision went black for a moment, but she forced herself to stay awake as the force lifted her into the air; her body rotated as something covered her, securing her arms to her sides.

“It’s unwise to rile me up,” Daiane sighed.

She was closer now; close enough to reach out and grab Samira by the hair.

“Look at me.”

Easing open her tired eyes, Samira noticed that she was inverted. Her brain pulsed in her head as she struggled to straighten her neck and see what had her bound.

Daiane snorted. “Let me paint you a picture since you’re having such a hard time concentrating.”

“Obviously,” Samira said with a laugh.

She groaned in pain as Daiane yanked her hair, forcing back her head.

“Listen – brats are so ungrateful these days. We barely got the time to chat during our sessions back then; to get to know one another. I never got to show to you the extent of my powers … it’s obvious now to me that you didn’t know I even had them.”

Samira hummed. “Unfortunately, no … a Zoan type, I assume; insect model.”

“Arachnid, in fact. I ate the Spider-Spider fruit; Black Widow model,” she clarified with pride. “And I have you in my web, suspended above the ground.”

She hummed again. What was she to do? To an insect, a spider’s web meant game over. It was hopeless; she’d never escape. She was faint; too drained to draw on her own power to assist her. Tears ran up into her bangs.

“Take it then. You want an eye for an eye … take it.”

Samira glared at her. A spider leg extended over the woman’s shoulder and got into position above her eye.

“Doesn’t seem fair, does it? You tried so hard, and for what?”

She had a point. What did Samira hope to achieve? She tried to save her homeland and the people turned on her; she tried to live a free life and now she was going to die.

Shachi and the others came to mind. She’d miss them.

“I made friends … for a short time I was hopeful.”

Daiane curled up her nose. “Don’t ruin this for me.”

She went to strike at Samira, but a sudden and familiar tune interrupted her. Her mouth twisted into a snarl; insolate brat.

Before she could react, someone shouted at her. Daiane glanced towards the voice, but was blindsided. A burst of color hit her in the face.

Samira coughed. What just happened? The netting around her came undone and she plunged towards the ground with a shriek. A familiar blue dome encircled her, however and before she landed, she was transported into someone’s arms.

“Shachi, get ready.”

She recognized the voice. Shaking off the unsteadiness from the fall, Samira glanced up at Law. He came for her. She choked back tears.

“Law––

He interrupted her. “Later … this isn’t over.”

She turned her attention back towards Daiane just as the powder dispersed. True to her word, she had been caught in a giant web; the vibrant colors from the festival exposed them, stretched from one home to the next. Said woman was perched on a thread using her extra legs to keep herself from falling onto the sticky webbing.

A snarl of annoyance tore from her mouth as she noticed Samira had been saved. Her anger was directed towards Law, however.

“It makes me sick to see someone as notorious as you taking sides with a traitor. Did she tell you about me? About my weaknesses?”

Law grinned. “She may have; hard to say what we agreed on.”

“Doesn’t really matter,” Daiane barked. “You wasted your chance. My eye won’t be used against me again.”

He disagreed with a shake of his head. “Don’t be so sure.”

“The nerve––

She was interrupted by a strange yet familiar smell. Was something on fire? Glancing towards the house on her blind side, Daiane noticed someone on the rooftop had ignited her netting using the powder as an accelerant. The flames consumed them so fast Daiane barely escaped in time. She leapt onto the opposite rooftop with a shriek and snarled at Law; he was much smarter than she gave credit to.

“Did that catch you off guard?”

Her face heated up. “Don’t mock me.”

She had no lead over him; no idea how she’d take him down, and worst of all, he was not terrified. The Boss’s pet had done her wrong. And for no reason at all. Daiane wanted to know why; she needed to find Daryllyn and ask her – wherever the brat had gone.

“We’re not done, pirate … far from it.”

Law grunted in annoyance. Before he could stop her, Daiane escaped.

“Captain,” Shachi shouted, taking a fire escape down the rooftop. “She went towards the square.”

Law hummed. “Let her go. She won’t come back until she knows more about us.”

“Yeah … but––

There isn’t a lot we know about her and Samira isn’t going to be any help in her condition, he decided not to mention. Law was right; it was best to let the spider woman go for now. He sighed deeply and looked over Samira. She was in bad shape, hanging onto Law, panting with each breath. How did this come to pass? Had he been with her, none of this would have happened.

“I can take her, if you want?”

Law shook his head. “She needs medical care, so I’ll take her. We need to leave this island before the Marines are called.”

“Where to? The Log Pose doesn’t reset until sometime tomorrow,” Shachi mentioned.

He frowned, recalling the information the desperate woman reveled to him. “We set sail tonight, for the Red Line. Gather the crew and once I see to Amunet-ya, I’ll update them about my new plan.”

“Aye, Captain.”

Samira and he had more in common than either realized.

[tsukikoayanosuke]

A Reunion Between the Waves

Summary: 

Azul is indentured to a horrible captain on a routine ocean trip with his master's goods. He doesn't know what to expect when the ship is attacked by the notorious and mysterious ship, the Night Raven, but it's certainly not this.

(’Twisted-Wonderland: Our Precious Treasure’ 5000 hits celebration!)

(Fantasy/Pirate/Steampunk AU)

(A suggestion from @sanata101 )

Azul did not know what to expect when his master's ship was attacked by the most feared pirate ship in these seven oceans, but he was sure he did not expect to be HUGGED by the captain.

Azul's head suddenly felt dizzy, uncertain of how to react. This dizziness was partly from getting cuffed upside the head by his master just a moment ago, but the rest of the shock he was sure came from a sudden hug from Captain Argentum, the captain of the Night Raven. How many navy ships had this guy taken out? Maybe Azul needed more than two hands to count them. He was the only known captain who dared to sail the ocean in the dead of the night, the only captain who managed to attack his opponent amid complete darkness and steal the treasure without leaving a trace.

And now, he was in the arms of the captain who was almost younger than him. He had lost his hat during the sword fight with Azul’s master and revealing his reddish-brown hair, tied in a loose ponytail.  There was a scar under his black eye-patch, rather than make him look dangerous, it almost made him look somehow…softer.  Vulnerable.  The effect was also helped along by the fact that he was crying a little, a tear rolling out of his other eye.

“Azul, it’s you, right, Big Brother Azul?  Please tell me it’s you.”

Azul's mouth opened, but no sound came out, opening and closing like a fish. How did the most famous pirate in the ocean know his name?  How could he possibly know Azul Ashengrotto- an orphan who worked because he was forced to employ a minor master?

Captain Argentum seemed to be able to get his bearings back, but his hands were still on the shoulders of Azul. His head dipped slightly for a moment, catching his breath. Then, his eyes met Azul's, and for the first time since the captain had landed on his ship, sword flashing and coat tails swirling around his legs, Azul could see his eye - black as the night sky above them.

And he felt like he had seen that eye before.

His mouth opened again, then closed. Finally, he whispered in a hoarse voice. "How… Do you know… My name?"

Captain Argentum's breath hitched, and Azul could see the light slowly disappearing from his eye - as if he was losing hope.

"I- Sorry," the captain murmured, his hand falling from Azul's shoulder. "I'm sorry, this might be... Too much for you. I... I’ve been looking everywhere for you and..."

He turned his eyes away, pressing a gloved mouth to his hand for a moment.  Azul found himself stepping forward automatically, hand reaching for the pirate’s shoulder.  It felt natural - like something… He had done this before…

"I ... I'm sorry," he said, not too sure for what reason.

The captain’s head jerked up.  He turned to Azul in a rush, almost stumbling over his own words.

“Oh, no, no, no, Big Brother Azul, please don’t - it’s not your fault you don’t remember; it has been ten years, after all, no wonder you don’t remember me. I’m sorry to frighten you I just-saw you and I got overwhelmed and-”

Is this really the captain that many people fear? The same captain whose face was drawn on the wanted poster? His face was so open, Azul thought. So…vulnerable, so genuine.

Azul took the captain's hand, making him stop talking. He squeezed the hand, felt the warmth through the gloves. This felt very familiar. This ... felt right. He raised his face so that he met Captain Argentum's eyes again and there, he saw a glimmer of starlight.

"How do you think Captain Flint did it, Azul? How'd he swoop in out of nowhere and vanished without a trace?"

"I have no idea."

"You think somebody will ever find Treasure Island?"

"Maybe one day... You can."

"Me?"

"Yeah. You'll finally be the captain like you always dream off."

"Yeah... Yeah! Captain Jonah Argentum and his first mate, Azul Ashengrotto! Sailing across the seven seas in search of the legendary Treasure Island! An adventure of a lifetime!"

“Jonah…?” he murmured.

He felt the young man’s hand tighten against his, and his eyes half shut with a soft shudder at the sound of his name on Azul’s lips. Could this be the little Jonah from back then? The little Jonah who cried for his name when their old island was invaded by pirates and he was captured?

Feet stampeded over the deck, shattering the moment. Azul's heart jumped to the base of his throat as he wheeled around, his hands were still holding Jonah's.

His master, a female captain named Athena, appeared at the higher deck. Her hand still clutched at her side, where the barest bit of blood seeped between her fingers and into her fine dress clothes - Jonah had cut her there during the fight, that’s why he had run in the first place.  Jonah had looked about to go after her before he had been distracted by the sight of Azul on the ground, and now the small captain swore under his breath, raising his sword with the hand that wasn’t still holding Azul’s.

Azul’s throat clenched up at the way his master looked – wild-eyed, pale-faced, her normally red hair half out of her braids.  His head throbbed where the woman had struck him only minutes before the fight had started - he couldn’t even remember why she had hit him.  Not that Athena ever needed a reason. Behind his lord, three soldiers armed with muskets jogged up, two of them dropping immediately to their knees to aim their weapons at Jonah.

Jonah shifted, pushing Azul behind him despite him being shorter than Azul, hands still clasped between Azul's.

"Back off now," said Jonah. "You don't know what you're dealing with."

Athena's eyes flashed, but she smiled, removing a few strands of hair from before her eyes with her hand still holding her sword.

"There are five guns aimed at you, Star Thief," Athena said, speaking Jonah’s ocean nickname with the same venom one might use to swear. "And that's not included in front of you."

Her eyes suddenly landed on Azul and he felt himself shrink. He gulped. Why is this woman so scary?

"Boy, come here," Athena snapped. "Now."

Azul flinched, chest tightening. He saw Jonah’s eye flicker back to him.

"Who is she?" he asked.

Azul gulped. "I work for her," he muttered. At that moment, Jonah's black eye narrowed and a spark of anger appeared on his face. He turned to Athena, his hand squeezing even more tightly into Azul.

"Uh... No," he said. "Looks like he'll just stay with me."

Athena laughed. "You think he’s worth it as a hostage? I can buy ten slaves for half his price. "

Azul could already smell the anger coming out of Jonah. "Well, it looks like you have to shoot us," he said calmly. "Because we are not going anywhere."

"So naïve, Captain Argentum," Athena laughed. "I knew you were young but I assumed being as successful as you are, you’d know better! You’re worth far much more to me alive, and I’ll be taking you all the way to the courts with me.  I will greatly enjoy watching you hang."

Jonah only blinks. Azul's gaze went back and forth from Jonah to Athena - Jonah could not go with him. Athena would rip him apart - before they even arrive at the harbor.

"Jonah, go," he whispered in Jonah's ear. "Go, now - If you run to the lower level, the door is unlocked, you can escape through one of the windows-"

Where would you want him to run off to? Azul stopped. Come to think of it, where was Jonah's ship? How could he suddenly appear on his ship? Azul couldn’t see anything in the dark but he was pretty sure there weren’t any ships pulled up near them.

"Go," he whispered again. "I will protect you."

"Not without you," replied Jonah, holding his hand tighter.

"It’s fine, I can handle it - she talks big but she won’t actually hurt me, I promise."

"No!" Jonah hissed back. "You've been protecting me since we were kids. Now, it's my turn. I won't let you stay here and be treated like a dog! ”

"I'm the older one here. The one who should be protecting is me!" Azul replied. "If you die, I don't have anyone I could protect!" He could feel Jonah's hand tightened. "I will complete my contract with him and I will look for you-"

"Boy!" snapped Athena. "Come here, or for the sake of everything in the sky, I will gun you down! Someone go arrest this child already!"

One soldier dropped down to the lower deck and advanced on Jonah.  Jonah backed away, still keeping Azul behind him.

"Azul!" Athena shouted, her patience was up. "For the love of- Captain Argentum, if you don't lower your sword now, I'll just shoot that boy if you like him very much."

Jonah actually growled.

“You’ll be dead where you stand before you could even touch him,” he snapped.

"Jonah, stop!" Azul shouted. "You can't die!"

He just can’t let his precious childhood friend die. And that was why Azul knew in his bones he couldn’t let him get hurt, couldn’t let Jonah die in front of him - he had to do whatever it took to keep Jonah alive.  He couldn’t - Couldn’t watch him –

"That boy is mine, Star Thief! If I want to shoot it, then I will do it!"

“Jonah, technically - technically I do belong to her, so please, just go before you-”

And then, from overhead, there was a sudden roar.

Azul gasped as the very air seemed to vibrate through his skull, rattling his brain and his bones.  Light exploded around them from something far above.  There were several screams - a ratatat that was like musket fire but somehow stronger and more powerful, a thwump thwump thwump of something thick smacking the deck.

When Azul’s eyes cleared, he was standing in a spotlight, a whoosh of air like a wind current spinning around him and humming overhead.  He tried to look up - something big and black, right over the ship, blotting out the stars.  What had happened to Athena?

When he looked back down, he saw that the soldiers with the muskets were down, unconscious on the deck.  Athena was standing alone, her eyes so wide that they were mostly whites. Her arms hung uselessly at her sides, sword on the ground.

Azul's eyes widened when he looked at the sky.

An airship. A ship that can fly. That thing is real?!

A rope was thrown down and Jonah caught it. He raised his face and continued, "Thank you, Ace!" Azul could vaguely see someone saluted, it seemed like a member of Jonah’s shipmates. The captain himself tied the rope to his waist and stepped on the anchor like a swing that had been lowered. Suddenly, Azul felt his waist being hugged and he was pulled closer to the captain, making his cheeks heat up.

"Yours, huh?" said Jonah to the still gaping Athena. "We’re pirate remember? Stealing other people's belongings is my job!"

He smiled at Azul. "Hold on tight."

Azul quickly hugged Jonah, feeling slightly awkward because he was taller than the captain, and then they were being pulled up along with the anchor.

After all that had happened - relief at being taken from Athena's grasp, amazed at the presence of an airship, and all the mixed emotions from the first time his silver-blue eyes met Jonah's black eye. But for one thing, he knew he was happy with him.

He felt Jonah give a kiss on his cheek. He whispered. "Let’s sail for an adventure of a lifetime."

[ailawritesanddraws]

[Plasmashipping Fic]

"Maybe there's A Chance"

On the deck of the bounty, a certain brunette was training away with the equipment on board. kai has been up here since early morning, fighting the metal dummies that opposed as his threat.

His hand moved in a circular motion, the katana in his grasp following his movement. He swung his hand forward, sending a blow on the dummy, creating a long diagonal mark on it.

Stepping back, he turned his upper body around and aimed his weapon on the dummy behind him. The head of the dummy made of hay flew across the deck and landed right beside the pole. 

His head whipped towards the sudden shuffle he heard, aiming his katana at the intruder.

Jay held his hands up, his body leaning backwards to avoid the blade pointed at his neck. "Woah there, Kai!" He spoke in a shaky voice, "I-I uh didn't m-mean to startle you! Haha!"

Kai took a moment to process what just happened. He glanced at the smaller male skeptically, only then noticing the ginger's strange mannerisms. Jay had chapped, dry lips as if he peeled it off himself, beads of sweat forming on his forehead as well as that awkwardly stupid smile plastered on his face, and...

The sleeveless shirt he's wearing.. it's Kai's.

"Why are you wearing my shirt?!" The hothead exclaimed, weapon lowering and face burning red. Probably a shade of red that's darker than his ninja gi. He watched as Jay's face flushed in embarrassment as the guy glanced down at the cloth he's wearing.

"S-so-sorry! It's l-laundry day and a-all my clothes are i-in the dryer still!" He said in a hurry. "I s-saw this o-on the couch and I had nothing to wear s-so---!"

His rambling was cut short when a snort came to earshot, followed by a wholehearted laugh from Kai. He glanced up at him, eyes glued to the taller male in astonishment and awe. It's rare to see Kai laughing like this. He swore he could see aesthetic lights and fluffy clouds around the red ninja.

Shaking his head, he refused to believe his stupid little crush, or as he calls it. He thought that the reason he had the weird urge to get close to Kai was to get to Nya. It was really the only logical reason, seeing that he and Kai didn't really have much to talk about apart from missions they were sent together.

The longer he spent with the hothead, the closer he came to realization. It wasn't Nya he had a thing for.

It was Kai that he liked.

It became harder and harder to interact. The thought of confessing crossed Jay's mind but he knew he would never attempt it, ever. He always thought that Kai was probably homophobic and that if he said anything about how he feels towards the hothead, he was sure he'd be hated.

So he kept his feelings hidden.

"This is why you do laundry every week," Kai mocked, a hand on his hip. He gave out a smirk, propping the katana over his shoulder, the blade facing upwards.

Jay rolled his eyes at him, "Yeah, yeah, I know," he huffed, hands shoved in his shorts. His eyes darted to the floorboards of the bounty, a sigh escaping his throat. "Something wrong, bud?" He shook his head at Kai's concern, eyes staring off into the distance.

"Nothing..I just have this thought in my mind." He said softly, "I just can't get rid of it."

"Yeah? What's that?"

He shook his hand, waving his hand dismissively at the brunette, "I told you, it's nothing."

Kai approached the weapon's rack, "Well, if you're not gonna tell me," He started, reaching out to grab a pair of nunchucks from the shelf. He swung it with one hand, throwing it across to Jay, who caught it in his hands. "Why don't we spar? If I win, you gotta tell me. If you win, I'll shut up about it."

Jay thought for a moment.

This proposal is a chance for him to confess but it's also a ridiculously huge risk. Knowing Kai, even if he did win, he probably won't stop pestering him about it in some other way he can.

Having made a decision, he took a deep breath and stood up, "You're on. 'Course, you won't stand a chance against the master of lightning!" 

"Oh we'll see about that!" Kai launched at him, katana held high, preparing to slice. He swiftly dodged Jay's nunchucks, moving to the side. His opponent reached out for the low pole, grabbing it before swinging to his opposite side, a good feet away. "I know you well enough, Kai." Jay smirked, hands gripping tightly onto his weapon of choice.

"Let's see how you like electricity!" He maneuvered to his left, dodging a slice from Kai. He used his element to send an electric shock throughout Kai's body, sending him a few feet away.

Kai panted, his body slightly bent over as he had a hand over his stomach. "You've gotten good at close combat." He huffed, trying to stabilize his breathing, "Didn't think you'd actually land a blow."

"I learn from the best!" Jay grinned, giving Kai a thumbs up. He's sparred with the hothead countless times before this one. It's become some sort of tradition for the both of them, sparing whenever the others are out on individual missions and they would be left alone in the bounty with nothing else to do.

Although Jay's way of spending his time was just playing videogames, he also enjoys watching Kai train from the shadows. Yeah it's a bit creepy, he admits, but hey, with that ripped body, and well, being Kai, who wouldn't want to watch him train those muscles?

"But you're easily distracted,"

Jay gulped, head held high as Kai's blade barely touched his neck. He chuckled awkwardly, "It's not my fault!" He avoided eye contact as the taller male chuckled at his antics. "Seriously, you gotta work on that. If this was real combat, you'd be dead meat by now." He shook his head, though a smile stood prominent on his lips.

".. it's not my fault you're so dreamy," Jay muttered underneath his breath, cheeks slightly puffed. He let out a sigh of frustration the moment the katana's blade was removed.

Eyes staring up at Kai's smug expression, he sighed, "Fine."

With another gulp, he placed a hand on the nape of his neck and the other in his pocket. "It's about relationships."

"Is it about Nya?" Kai questioned, an eyebrow raised at the ginger as he waited for his response patiently.

"No..not this time anyway." Jay said, "It's about those guy to guy relationships. I've been.. thinking lately. Girls just hasn't worked out for me. Heck, you can see it with Nya already. I just.. thought.. maybe--"

"Having a romantic relationship with a guy would work better?"

"..yeah?" He said, though it sounded more of a question. He avoided making eye contact with the other male, embarrassed and afraid of what he might say next. 

Though Kai's next set of words surprised him, "If you were going to come out of the closet, you should've told me earlier." Kai said with a soft smile, "I'm not one to shame people for liking the same gender. I'm bisexual myself, so I know what you're going through. The only thing that's different between us is that most guys would find you cute, but hey, that's an advantage, I guess?"

The ginger blinked a couple of times, processing what Kai had just said to him.

When he regained his grip on reality, he furrowed his eyebrows, "Did you just imply that I'm cute?"

Kai shrugged, "Maybe."

With a light laugh, he propped his weapon on the desk alongside the pair nunchucks Jay used during their spar, "Anyway, it's getting late. I'll see you back inside, cutie," He pecked Jay's cheek before heading back inside, leaving the ginger in a flustered state, "Shoot he just got really hot all of a sudden,"

~~~~~~~~

I take requests!

[writerfromtheshore]

The Ship from the Far Seas

The ship started out as a dot on the endless ocean. A simple speck far out off the the shores of Onu-Wahi, which was barely distinguishable to the naked eye. 

Midak caught sight of it a few days after it appeared on the horizon, during a walk along the shores of the Papa Nihu Reef. He was out collecting the shells that would wash up, and noticed the speck as he looked out beyond the waves. Perhaps it was one of those deep sea creatures that would occasionally break surface far out there, he supposed. The Onu-Matoran looked at it curiously as he walked, not thinking much of the sighting.

When he walked again a few days later, he began to think it might be something other than a sea Rahi. The speck was still there, larger this day than on his last stroll. He could still not tell what it was, only that there was definitely something out on the horizon.

His curiosity kept him coming back to the beach, where he would watch for a few hours atop the ring of eight boulders. Even after days of watching, he could not make out what the speck was. But he could tell that it was something.

After the northern winds began to pick up was when it really began to come into view. The ocean breezes which blew to the island began to carry the speck, its shape coming closer with each passing day. There were times where Midak believed he could almost distinguish an outline of the speck’s shape, and there were other times where it looked no more than a dark dot on the horizon. Either way, he knew it was something.

The rest of the Onu-Matoran rolled their eyes when Midak marvelled about the speck coming toward the island, during a rare trip to the underground markets. No one believed him— even as the veiled and shadowed speck, whatever it was, came closer to the island each day.

“Several centuries we have lived here on Mata Nui, Midak, and nothing has ever come to our shores before,” scoffed Onepu upon hearing about the speck. “Why would something suddenly show up now?”

“Maybe it just took time to get here,” was Midak’s reply. “It could be a very big ocean.”

“Your eyes have simply seen too much sunlight,” another Onu-Matoran insisted. “You need to not go above ground so much.”

***

Eventually the speck disappeared in the storms which the northern winds had brought. The usual serene skyline one day was obscured by clouds and rain, and Midak could no longer distinguish anything out on the horizon.

Once the storms passed it came back into sight, closer than it had ever been before. When it finally came into sight, Midak could not remember how much time had passed since he had first seen it on the horizon. It did not matter anymore. What mattered was that it was here, and he could finally glean what it really was— a ship on the horizon.

It came to rest at the edge of the shallower seas off of Onu-Wahi, much to Midak’s glee. There were reefs out there, which most likely caught the bottom of the ship, giving it its first anchor in probably a very long time. He could immediately tell that it was not manned— the ship had drifted in haphazardly, its course directed by only the currents.

“Maybe two kio out?” said Takua, estimating the distance to the ship one day when he came to visit Midak.  

“Too far to swim out to…” Midak muttered.

“But with a boat we could easily manage to get out there,” said the Ta-Matoran, a mischievous smile coming to his mask.

“It is a beautiful day out here,” said Midak as they cruised along in a boat towards the ship. “The sun seems to just come down perfect out here. It is the perfect amount of cloud cover too. Quite unlike Po- or Ga- Koro, where the sun comes down too brightly. Have you ever noticed that in your travels, Chronicler?”

Takua shook his head, but smiled as the eccentric Matoran continued to ramble on about the marvels of pure light, as he was known to do. The Onu-Matoran was obsessed with the beauty of light… but the adventuring nature of Takua was more curious about the ship Midak had brought him out here to see.

As they came into its shadow, its age and wear were apparent to them; The vessel looked ancient, rusted in most places and worn away in others. Lines of rust travelled up the seams of the metal panels that kept it together. Large bolts the size of a Matoran were equally as pitted, dried salt deposits sitting atop the surface. A small Keras crab scuttled up the side and over the deck. The waters of the endless sea had clearly not done any favors for the vessel in the years it had been out to sea. No flags or symbols stood out on the metal of the ship— perhaps they had been there once before, and worn away over time. And with the condition it was in, the two supposed it was not very well kept. Whatever this ship was and whomever owned it, they were either gone or very, very, ancient.

“Do you think someone is on it?” asked Midak. He knew nothing of ships and boats.

“I don’t think so,” Takua shook his head as he threw a grappling hook towards the deck above. “And I hope not, for their sake. I’ve seen Marka in Ga-Koro tidying her boats…. if anyone is up there, and she gets wind of the condition this thing is in, Marka will be having a very pointed conversation with them.”

The weight of the two Matoran climbing aboard made the ship creak, and even shift a little. Under their feet the deck groaned, breaking a sense of stillness hanging over the ship. A bird fluttered past them, spooked by their arrival disturbing the quiet of the afternoon. In some places, a few empty nests could be seen.

“Be careful of your step,” advised Takua as he walked forward. He winced, his voice seeming unnaturally loud on the quiet deck, even for him. “This metal could give out anywhere.”

Time on the ocean had worn on the ship. Rust covered parts of the deck. Links of large chains— presumably for an anchor— had clearly rusted away, leaving stains where they had laid. The remains of barnacles and the waste of birds littered the rails, creating a crusty layer of crud aboard the ship. In some spots, on the deck were clear indicators of lightning strikes which had occurred some time in the past.

The deck was largely empty, many of the structures having most likely been blown away by the winds of the far seas. Many of the rails were rotted through. A large tower stood at the stern of the vessel, its upper half missing. A large, long cylindrical structure ran the length of the deck, to what purpose Takua had a faint inkling. A cannon? he wondered.

They explored further, finding a portion of the deck punctured by weapons. A flagpole stood behind the tower, wisps of what may have been a flag flowing slightly from side to side in a light breeze.

A long slender sword was stuck in the hull. Turning his attention from Takua, Midak grabbed ahold of the hilt. Wrestling it with all of his strength, the sword fell free, albeit taking some debris still stuck on the blade. Midak went to clean the blade, but a tap on the shoulder found him dealing with another, this one with the tip at his neck.

“Fight, ye darkness crawling coward,” Takua said in a growling, gravelly mock voice. Midak turned around, swatting at Takua’s blade with the one he had shaken the debris from. The two of them laughed as they play-parried, pretending they were pirates. They jumped and slid through the narrow hall between the gunwale and the remnants of a tower. The ship creaked as they ran around, but the deck remained stable. Neither of them had ever seriously held a sword, and fumbled with the tools as they made the blades collide, but either way they enjoyed it as the metal blades came together with a satisfying ring on deck.

“You dare challenge the mighty Captain Takua?” asked the Ta-Matoran. “Conqueror of the endless sea, master swordsman—“

Before he could say anything more the hilt Takua’s sword rotated. The blade began to ominously glow. The playing stopped, Midak immediately dropping his blade to his side as his ‘opponent’ figured out what was going on with his weapon. A greenish hue began to emit from the weapon, which caused them to look at each other with concern.

“What is going on with this?” asked Takua, his tone somewhat nervous.

“What did you do?” asked Midak.

“I don’t know!” the Ta-Matoran answered, lowering the blade.

“Don’t point it at me!” said Midak. The Ta-Matoran looked worried as the weapon glowed even brighter.

The hilt of the sword suddenly rammed into Takua’s stomach, and he went flying backwards. Midak felt a very strong breeze puff past his mask. The kickback of the weapon sent Takua careening through the wall of the structure they had found the weapons near. He flew into the darkness within and out of sight.

“Takua!” Midak shouted as he leapt toward the dark hole the Matoran had flown into. He tripped, however, the deck of the ship shifting abruptly. The metal frame of the vessel gave a heaving groan as everything jerked violently. The ship seemed to give, and it felt for a millisecond as if the floor was giving out and he had nowhere to stand. It lasted only a few seconds, but it made Midak proceeded more carefully.

He found the Ta-Matoran on the floor, wide eyed in shock. “Are you alright?”

“That thing…sure packs a punch,” Takua groaned, rolling onto his side. Midak offered a hand, but Takua refused for a few moments, the wind totally knocked out of him. He them took clasp of his friend’s hand, stumbling to his feet. It was not that Takua had not been blown through a wall before. It still hurt every time.

“Did the sword do that?” asked Midak.

“I think so,” Takua croaked. “Something fired from the blade that I could not see… oh that hurt.”

“What was that weapon?” asked Midak, bewildered and at the same time excited. Takua put his hands on his hips for a few seconds as he regained his breath, and thought. The pain was gradually leaving, though his stomach still hurt. “I’ve never seen a sword do something like that!”

“The Toa who were prophesied to come,” said Takua. “They are said to control the elements and with Great Kanohi and tools.”

“So maybe that was a Toa tool?” Midak asked.

“I did not think the Toa would come on a ship though,” said Takua. “The way the legends tell it, they would come to Mata Nui… more heroically is the best way I can describe it. More nobly. Some other way.”

Getting to his feet, Takua and Midak began to look around to where they were. Panels lined a wall of the room, with strange knobs and buttons and shattered screens. A few of the buttons near where Takua had been blasted into were glowing. Elsewhere in the room was a chair in the corner, half fallen apart and on its side. Beyond the chair was a doorway leading into further darkness, which Midak’s natural night vision could not glean what lay beyond.

“Maybe it wasn’t the weapon,” Midak said. “Maybe the ship is haunted, and it was a ghost— the ship’s captain or someone who used to be on here.”

“I hate ghost stories,” Takua glowered at him.

“Just saying,” Midak said. He looked at Takua, surprised. “I never said I liked ghosts either. But wait— The explorer hates ghost stories?”

“I like the unknown,” Takua said. “I never said I liked everything I find there.”

From beyond the doorway came the sound of multiple footsteps. The Onu- and Ta-Matoran looked at each other alarmed. They thought they were alone. Who else could be here?

“Ok, then, if it is a ghost,” said Takua his voice heavy with sarcasm, “how do we appeal to it to not fling us through more walls?”

To their relief, familiar Kanohi emerged from the darkness.Coming from behind the glow of the lightstone, two Matoran made themselves known. Takua and Midak breathed a sigh of relief. It was more Matoran.

“Chronicler!” exclaimed a purple masked Onu-Matoran. “How did you—?”

“Hello, Damek,” Midak said, waving to his fellow Onu-Matoran. The guard nodded curtly to him.

“What brings you two here?” asked Damek.

“You know me, just can’t stay away from anything,” said Takua sheepishly. “Midak and I saw the ship, and wanted to explore it. What are you doing here?”

“Turaga Whenua sent us to look this over. Onepu went to him about what Midak was saying, and the Turaga wanted a formal investigation,” Damek said. “He wanted to know what was coming.”

“And you brought along a Po-Matoran?” asked Midak, confused at Damek’s partner.

“A few Po-Matoran north of here saw it too,” said Hewkii. “I’m part of the Po-Koro Guard, and we protect the Koro from outside dangers. This is definitely qualifies as an outside danger.”

Alarm had appeared on Damek’s mask. His head swiveled, and he shined the lightstone he carried into the dark hall they had come from. “Tehutti is with us too,” said the Onu Matoran, looking back into the dark doorway. “He was just behind us as we were coming—“

“You haven’t seen him, have you?” asked Hewkii.

Midak shrugged. “We thought the ship was empty.”

Damek had backtracked into the dark hall, calling Tehutti’s name as he looked for his fellow Onu-Matoran. Hewkii however looked at the lit up control panel behind Takua. Midak slipped next to the Ta-Matoran, nudging him in the side and mouthing,“The ghost took him.” Takua nudged him hard in the side.

“None of this was on when the three of us passed through here,” said Hewkii. He stepped up to the series of knobs and switches that glowed. He then cast an eye at the hole in the wall. “What just happened?”

“There were these swords on deck,” Takua said, pointing to the hole in the side of the room. “Midak and I were… looking at them. Then one of them turned on and sent out some blast that sent me through the wall.”

“‘Turned on’?” Damek repeated, having come back into the control room. “How does a sword ‘turn on’?”

The two of them shrugged. “These technologies are beyond our understanding,” said Midak.

“So you two must have been what rocked the ship,” Damek said. “This place is not stable. We cannot be on here too long. Who knows how unsteady the ship is.”

“Wherever it ran aground on must not be stable,” suggested Midak.

“But what about Tehutti?” asked Takua.

“You must have hit something important,” Hewkii said, having studied the panel long enough. “and whatever that was, it made Tehutti disappear. Maybe you opened some sort of door.” The Po-Matoran turned to Damek. “Did you see any doors back there?”

Damek shook his head.

“Did you explore the entire ship?” asked Midak.

“We were just heading to the lower levels before we heard the crash you made,” said Damek. Midak and Takua looked at each other with a grin.

“Oh so we didn’t miss much,” said the Chronicler.

“I’m not the best with mechanics and switches, but it doesn’t look like we hit anything important,” said Hewkii, stepping back from the panel. “Let’s continue on. Maybe Tehutti just went on ahead of us.”

Damek nodded, shining his lightstone down the dark hall. The darkness stared back at him. He only hoped that Hewkii was right.

***

Tehutti was not just ahead of them, much to Damek’s concern. The group slowly walked down the hallways, finding nothing but the dark emptiness of the ship. The ship creaked and groaned around as they proceeded carefully, trying not to cause another abrupt shift.There were no doorways, nor passageways diverging from the hall they walked on that hinted at somewhere their companion could have wandered into.

The purple masked Onu-Matoran led the way, shining his lightstone in hopes that at any step Tehutti would come into the light. He had just been by our side, Damek thought. What could have taken the miner so suddenly away from us?

As the group ventured, Takua and Midak whispered amongst themselves.

“You don’t think that maybe the ship is haunted? Spooked?” asked Midak.

Takua gave him a skeptical look. “You are really insisting on this,” he said.

Midak nodded. “Lots of miners talk from time to time about spooky sounds in the tunnels,” he said. “Tunnels that you can hear groans coming from as you walk by. You have to think about this sometimes, even a little, Chronicler— you love to explore the unknown.”

“Ta-Matoran try to face things with courage,” Takua replied.

Hewkii frowned as he listened to the other two squabble. It seemed as if there were no immediate danger to the island, but something did not sit right about this place with the Po-Matoran. It was so unnaturally still. He did not like this one bit.

Part of him wondered who commanded this ship. The Turaga had never talked about any peoples outside of the Matoran of Mata Nui, so he had never given any thought about life beyond the shores of the island. But here was solid proof that there was someone other than them on the endless ocean.

The hallway led them to a set of stairs descending below. Damek was reluctant, but he led the procession onward— he was worried for his fellow Onu-Matoran.

They found a single room below, which extended the length of the ship. The level was largely empty, save for the wooden barrels and crates littering the perimeter of the room. At one point they had probably been stacked neatly and orderly, flush against the walls; now however, they were mostly decayed. Upon inspection, some of the more intact barrels contained pools of foul smelling substances. A few harmless Rahi crawlers whom had recently made this place home wandered through the lumber, growing accustomed to their new home.

As they explored, the Matoran continued to argue about where the hard to find Onu-Matoran had gone.

“He couldn’t have fled,” Damek insisted as they wandered the room. “We would have seen him go.”

“The only other place he could have gone is deeper into this ship,” said Midak. “Maybe he found something that we missed, and is following it.”

“But why would he go without us?” asked Hewkii. There was something more about this place than its initial stillness seemed to suggest.

It made no sense to Damek. Nothing seemed to suggest that Tehutti had left. And he was not the type to disappear as a prank. Damek tried to keep himself of thinking of any alternate possibilities. Many miners disappeared in Onu-Koro, taken by Makuta’s Rahi, but there was no sign of a struggle to hint that Tehutti had been taken. The ship seemed to pose no immediate danger, he supposed just as Hewkii had. But that it made Matoran disappear did not bode well with him.

At the far end of the hall, long bundles of cloth hung from the ceiling. Hewkii strode over to one and reached with his disc throwing arm, trying to see what was within. A flood of bats burst from it, disturbed from their resting place. The Po-Matoran ducked as the Rahi swarmed over him. The bats paid him no mind, instead flying away to some other undiscovered cove in this place in which they could rest peacefully.

Something else clanged to the floor from the ceiling, to everyone’s surprise. The cloth had fallen from above, and the outline of a shape could be seen against it from underneath. With the bats gone, Hewkii lowered his arms from his mask. The others, quiet and wide eyed, looked at him but unwilling to step toward the cloth. Hewkii hesitantly strode over and slowly peeled back the cloth to see what was beneath.

The skull of a figure looked back at them, eye sockets empty and jaw hanging slack. A hand flopped toward them, pulled by the tarp.

“Ah!” Hewkii screamed, jumping back half a bio.

A few seconds of non movement from the corpse determined it was not alive. It was a skeleton, they began to realize, bundled in what must have been a hammock. Slowly they stepped closer to examine the corpse.

“Well at least we know now who was on this ship,” Damek said. “Even if they are odd looking,” he added.

“This must be the sleeping quarters of the crew,” Takua said as he cast a glance around the room.

“So this is a crew member,” Midak nodded. “But what kind of Kanohi is it wearing?”

“It looks like a Le-Matoran party mask,” said Hewkii. “But I have never seen anything like it.”

The ship creaked, and the four of them looked up. They could hear footsteps coming from below. “Tehutti?” called Damek. The footsteps picked up in pace, until out from the staircase emerged the Kakama masked Onu-Matoran.

“Damek?” he asked. “Hewkii? Chronicler? Midak? Oh thank goodness.”

“Where did you go?” asked Damek They clanked fists in embrace. “You disappeared into thin air!”

“I was following you upstairs,” Tehutti said. “I was with you, until I felt… something pull me backwards. Before I knew it, I was somewhere else, in some sort of control room.”

“We were in a control room too!” Takua exclaimed.

“There must be a lower level one we haven’t gotten to yet,” Hewkii said. “Did you find anything there?”

“Oh yes,” Tehutti said, looking at them wide eyed. “I’ve been trying to find you guys, because you need to see this.”

***

Whereas the control room above deck was inoperable, the one which Tehutti had found was alight with activity.

Complex systems and keypads abound glowed. Buttons and switches flashed, the panels beneath them humming. Screens, cracked in some places produced maps of the island of Mata Nui not far off— depth readers, heat signatures, information reports, all sorts of infographics— in a language the Matoran could barely discern. Regardless to however old the system was, it was still in somewhat working order.

“I would not touch anything,” Tehutti advised. Takua jerked his hand away from the keyboard he was running his fingers across.

Tehutti brought them all to a central display, which showed the side of Mount Ihu, amongst other parts of the island. A scope built into the screen was trained on the mountain. Midak and Takua cocked their heads quizzically, but Damek and Hewkii looked at the scope symbols with alarm.

“Is this what I think—?” asked Damek.

“The ship has something aimed at the island,” Tehutti nodded. “There are barrels on deck and along the sides of the ship that we found when we arrived—I think they are some sort of weapons system.”

“What kind of weapons are we talking about?” asked Hewkii.

“Definitely more high tech than Madu Cabolo,” said Tehutti.

Damek’s eyes lit up wildly. “Explosives?” Tehutti nodded his head. “So are you telling me we are on some sort of warship, and Mount Ihu is targeted?”

“Not intentionally,” Tehutti said. Damek stepped forward to the controls, taking a hard look at the panel below the screen. The symbols were all foreign to him, but taking some sort of stand made him feel better. “I don’t think pressing the right button would be good for the mountain,” Tehutti said as he watched.

“We need to shut this system down, now,” said Damek. Hewkii nodded in agreement.

“But how?” asked Midak. The others looked at him. None of them knew the language the keys and panels were in, nor what switches did what. The Matoran looked at each other anxiously; they could try to switch this off, but one slip, one wrong button and they would be sending friendly fire to Ko-Koro.

“How then do you suggest we disable it?” asked Damek.

“In Marka’s ships, there are mechanisms below deck,” Takua piped, coming to Midak’s aid. “They control things in the boat, like the rudder, steering—“

“So we switch the ship off manually,” Midak said. Takua nodded.

“I don’t follow,” Tehutti said.

“If this ship operates on the same principles as Marka’s ships, there has to be a mechanical room somewhere below,” said Takua. “We just need to find that room, find the right levers, and we can shut off whatever weapons systems this rust bucket has.”

Damek looked at him skeptically. “So we have to continue further into this ship, just to find a room you think might be here.”

“Hope,” Takua corrected, trying to be optimistic.

Damek looked around as he pursed his lips. They had three options, the way he saw it: They could try to blindly figure out what switch shut off the systems. They could wait for the place to short circuit and accidentally activate whatever weapons systems were on this ship. Or they could venture further down and use a Ta-Matoran’s rudimentary knowledge of ships in a gamble.

Damek was no engineer— he was a guard. He had not the skills to tinker. But without someone on board who knew this type of technology, he had no other options to turn to.

“Downward we go,” he said.

***

They ventured down multiple levels, finding more parts of the ship. But nothing appeared to be what they were looking for, simply more relics in an already ancient place. As they walked down the stairs to a the deepest levels of the ship, however, something odd came to their ears.

“What is that noise?” someone in the back of the pack asked. Damek looked over his shoulder, eyebrows raised; upon listening closely there was indeed a sloshing and slapping sound coming from the bottom of this staircase.

“I’m not sure,” Takua said back. “I can’t see anything.”

“Wait,” came Hewkii’s voice. “Maybe my eyes have finally adjusted to the dark, but doesn’t everyone admit that they can sort of see?”

Damek nodded to no one in particular. They still needed their lightstones, but not as much as the last few levels of the ship. It was not blinding bright, but there was a faint light coming from somewhere below. And it was not a technological light either— it seemed to be the sunlight from the outside.

Noone seemed to move, so Takua burst through the line, taking the charge into the unknown.

“Be careful,” Damek advised as he proceeded.

They listened for a few moments to footsteps as he continued down the steps, and then the Ta-Matoran cried out.

“Agh!” Takua gargled. The Matoran remaining on the staircase could hear him fall, and something else— a splash.

“What happened?” called Hewkii.

“It is flooded down here!” exclaimed Takua.

“Flooded?” asked Damek.

“It must have run aground on the reef when it came in,” Midak suggested. “Perhaps the the reef cut through the bottom of the ship.”

“It’s not that deep though,” said Takua. “I am at about… knee to waist deep? Thigh deep. Definitely thigh deep.”

“Can you see where the water is coming from?” asked Hewkii as the rest made their way down.

“No,” the Chronicler called. “But it’s not rushing by. Perhaps wherever it is coming from got plugged with debris.”

“Do you see any levers?” asked Damek.

“I think…” Takua said. “I need more light to see. Come down, it isn’t that bad.”

The group made their way down, sloshing through the water. Shining their lightstones, they looked down the flooded corridor. Pipes ran the length of the hall, numerous wheels and levers hanging from the ceiling. It was a narrow way compared to above, barely wide enough for a Matoran to walk with his arms extended.

“Any idea on what we are looking for?” asked Hewkii.

“Most of the pipes are probably connected to motors,” said Takua as they made their way down the hall. “But… I think—”

Whatever Takua thought was cut off by a splash further down the corridor. The five of them were silent for a moment.

“…That was you, right Takua?” asked Damek. The Ta-Matoran looked at him with eyes nearly as wild as they were afraid. As Takua shook his head, Damek’s expression turned to nearly incredulous. They slowly shone their lightstones down the hall, looking at a spot where water had just splashed. Ripples were starting to still. But slowly, they could see a fin raise out of the water, circling the flooded corridor. Below the water’s surface, two orange eyes could be seen dimly shining, eyeing its new visitors.

“Takea,” Takua breathed.

Hewkii whipped a disc from his back, but Midak grabbed his arm. “Don’t!” he cried.

“Oh, so you planned on being shark bait this afternoon?” Hewkii said, his voice rising as it filled with panic. “I must not have gotten the memo. Did any of you get it? Because I surely did not.”

“It’s not coming after us,” Takua said, observing the shark’s path.

“Whatever hole the water came in through, it must have come through there as well,” said Midak. “This is probably its home now.”

“We need to get past it, and find that lever,” said Damek. “Shut off whatever valve is controlling the computers upstairs.”

“It will come after us if we go any further,” said Takua, continuing to watch the Rahi’s movements. “We are right on the edge of the territory it has claimed.”

“So, we are just leaving the ship here?” Damek asked. “Leaving everything upstairs on, and hoping that it doesn’t go off?”

“Given our options, we are going to have to,” Tehutti said. “There is nothing we can do here. We just have to hope… that the Great Spirit sees it in his sleep and protects the island.”

“Then let’s get out of here,” said Hewkii. “I have had enough of being where the sun doesn’t shine.”

The group turned around, only to see something drop from the ceiling and land on the stairs. Something flew through the air, rocketing past the five Matoran and hitting the wall behind them. The wall began to creak as a corrosive substance began to eat through it.

“WHAT SURPRISE IS THIS NOW?” bellowed Damek. He was officially fed up with all the surprises he was finding today.

“Makika!” was Tehutti’s cry. A large toad looked down at them from the steps. “There must be an infestation of them here. They must be making this their home, just like the Takea.”

The disc Hewkii was holding launched from his hand, the Po-Matoran determined to strike before the acidic Rahi attacked again. The Rahi was struck by the bamboo, flying off the side of the stairs. “I am not going to meet my end in a ship taken down by a toad,” he grumbled.

“That Rahi is definitely angry now,” Takua said as he heard it splash into the water. “If it spits again, it may bring this whole place down.”

“We need to get out of here,” said Tehutti.

The group broke into a run, sprinting as fast as they could to get out of the creaking and shifting ship. The weight of so many Matoran moving throughout vessel that was so precariously balanced on the reef below caused it to continually rock. They hit wall after wall as they stumbled to get out, trying to avoid being pinned or left behind as the ship slowly tilted.

“The ship is definitely going to collapse,” said Midak as they made it to the top level.

“Shut up and keep moving!” Damek ordered as they ran.

Bursting onto the deck, the Matoran scrambled to the gunwales, where their boats awaited on either side. The ship had definitely shifted in their frantic climb back up, the deck making its way towards being parallel with Mount Ihu.

“At least we don’t have to worry about the cannons anymore!” said Midak as they scrambled towards the edge.

“Our boat!” said Damek. “It’s over there, but the ship is going to crush it!”

“Go high side!” yelled Takua.

“Jump!” said Tehutti.

“Jump?” cried a bewildered Hewkii. “That’s almost an eight bio drop! The fall could kill us!”

“No it won’t,” reassured Takua.

“To water though?” asked Hewkii. “I’m a Po-Matoran!”

“It’s not that deep out there!” Midak said, grabbing the Po-Matoran’s arm as he jumped. Hewkii cursed the Onu-Matoran as they fell towards the water.

***

The five of them sat in the sand on the beaches of Onu-Wahi, utterly exhausted from the journey back to the shore. Nearly dodging death and then having to half swim, half wade almost three kios of shallow water had been a struggle for the group of them. Nevertheless they made it. They now looked out at the rolled vessel out on the reef, bleak and tired from the journey.

“I really need to take swimming lessons,” said Hewkii. Water dripped from pockets in his mask but he was too tired to shake it out. The rest of them were covered in sand and sweat and seawater as well.

“This is going to be one for the Wall of History,” said Takua.

“Others better not come out here to explore it though,” Damek said. “You better put that in your writings, Chronicler. That place is too dangerous for anyone else to go out to. We shouldn’t have gone out there.”

“But we got something from it,” said Midak.

“And what would that be?” Damek asked. “And please don’t say an adventure.”

“We at least found this,” Tehutti said, a parcel in his lap. In the setting sunlight of the afternoon he was paging through it, despite not being able to read what it said.

“What is that?” Asked Damek.

“Some sort of log, or a journal,” said Tehutti. “I found it in the second chamber. We will give it to Whenua, and maybe he can make sense of what it says.”

***

Over the next few centuries that the Matoran lived on Mata Nui, the ship would disappear from their sights as it became part of the reef itself. Nature would eventually claim the ship. It would sink and become overgrown with brush and other sproutings that came from the shallows of the Papa Nihu to cover the vessel. Many Rahi would immigrate here and make it their own, finding it a safe haven from the intruding villagers whom constantly trampled over their territories.

The affair would eventually be pushed to the back of the minds of the five Matoran, preoccupations with attacks from Makuta’s minions taking up their attention. But occasionally they would remember, and look out onto the horizon of the endless ocean. As they did so they would wonder sometimes—who else was out there on the far seas?

[my-whumpy-little-heart]

Persistence - 1

Hey all! This is the start of a series featuring some pirate characters I played around with back during Whumptober, but with a lot more personality and a lot more plot. It got a little long so I put a cut, but I hope you guys enjoy it.

Series Masterlist

Content warnings: sword fighting, creepy/intimate whumper, and threats of death.

————————————

A shrill whistle took the crew of The Thief’s Halyard by surprise, everyone on deck pausing their work to stare up at the crow’s nest.

“Ship on the horizon! It may be pursuing us. Be prepared for any further instruction!” the lookout shouted, eliciting a chorus of groans. They were already wilting under the harsh sunlight and scorching heat of summer. Imminent danger would just be the cherry drowning in their melted sundae.

One man in particular, though, smiled through the announcement, seemingly taking delight in the possible threat approaching. He turned to everyone else as they slumped and sulked, puffing out his chest in a dramatic display of confidence. 

“Come on, everyone! No use grumbling and groaning; this is exciting! When’s the last time we even caught wind of other human life?” His bravado was almost painful to hear.

“It’s only been about two weeks, captain.” a younger man noted with clear confusion. He got a few knowing stares from the others around him. That was one way to indicate he was new around there in case anybody missed the memo.

“Exactly! So long!” he insisted, “And calling me Ray is fine, I promise. No need for fancy titles.” Ray clapped him on the back just a little too forcefully, pushing a nervous laugh and nod from him. As the newer crew member walked unsteadily back to his post and Ray climbed to the next level of the deck where he’d been working earlier, the quartermaster came up beside him. 

“Hey,” she laid a hand on his shoulder, speaking softly, “cool it on the positivity campaign, would you? I love the attitude, don’t get me wrong, but nobody’s buying it right now.”

“What else am I supposed to do, Mabel? You know as well as I do it’s not easy to keep spirits up when we’re all on the brink of passing out,” he sighed.

“Tear out the root of the problem then,” Mabel shrugged, crossing her arms. “Maybe rotate people out for breaks? It might make work harder, especially with that ship on our tail, but better to get them out of the sun than do nothing at all.”

“Ah, yeah... that sounds like our best bet, actually,” Ray nodded. “I honestly don’t know what I’d do without you some days,” he smiled sheepishly, running a hand through his hair.

“Most likely perish, sir,” Mabel remarked, earning a gentle shove from the captain as he strolled by, reaching back to take her hand and lead her up to the guardrail fencing off this higher portion of the deck. He raised their hands with a grandiose clearing of the throat.

“Alright, change of plans! I want the four of you,” he drew a circle in the air with his hand around a group standing off to the side, “to head into your quarters and get some rest. Everyone else will cover your positions, and every quarter hour we’ll rotate out four others, so on and so forth.”

Sighs of relief followed three of them in the door, but one redhead lingered behind, leaning his full weight against the cabin wall.

“Floyd!” Ray waved, climbing down the ladder to land next to him. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Thought I’d offer to stay and help if you need anyone. I can go a little longer, and someone else probably needs a break more than I do.” Ray eyed Floyd warily, looking him over for signs of exhaustion. He was a very slight man and it was a wonder he’d lasted even this long in the heat. A sheen of sweat coated his skin, and his light, mossy blue eyes looked a little unfocused, but... Floyd could handle himself. He’d have his turn in the rotation soon enough anyway.

“As long as you wish to, then.” He conceded. Ray observed the workers still at their posts, hollering over to a woman already stumbling over her own feet. “Clara!” Her head snapped up at the voice, sweaty hair plastered to her face. “Head inside and rest; Floyd can take your place for now.”

Relief washed over her and she thanked Ray hastily before making a beeline for the cabins. Floyd crossed the deck, picking up her work with no hesitation. For a while, things were more or less peaceful. Ray was about to signal for the rotation when another whistle and shout rang out from the lookout.

“That ship I saw...” she swallowed, voice fading out for a moment. “If I’m not mistaken, we’re currently being tailed by the Golden Felucca. And they’re gaining on us.”

“Oh...shit,” Ray muttered. That ship and its crew had done nothing but trouble them for nearly a year. Each subsequent encounter only wore Ray down further, and he shivered at the memory of the most recent one just a month earlier.

He stole a glance at Floyd, going strong like that attack had never happened. Like they hadn’t nearly lost him. Ray shuddered. Why him, of all people? The train of thought, though he’d had it so many times before, hurt too much to continue. 

Ray took a few breaths to steady himself, wipe the sweat from his forehead, and pull his dark, curly hair back into a low knot. No use dwelling on it now. Not when everyone needed him. 

Most who heard the announcement was already gearing up for conflict, and a tense feeling gripped the deck. 

“You heard her,” Ray called out, half exasperated, half determined, “Prepare to engage; expect a fight. I’m gonna need three with me on cannons but don’t fire if they're close. We’re gonna need the ones on break to guard.” 

He adjusted the sword belt around his waist and strode to the starboard side of the ship where the Golden Felucca was gaining on them far too quickly. 

As he worked on readying the cannons, those who had been sent down just minutes before trudged up from below deck. Despite the smaller vessel it was named after, the large ship really was a sight to behold. Nervous chattering echoed across the deck, one person even making a remark about the opposing captain, how some called him the Serpent. Mabel overheard and shook her head.

“Oh my Gods, please don’t flatter him,” she said, unable to hold back a derisive snort of laughter. “Percival is just as human as the rest of us. The minute you buy into his fantasy is the minute we lose this battle. Got it?” A shaky nod answered, and the conversation was cut short by their pursuers’ ship pulling up close alongside their own. Their opposing sides were nearly mere meters away from touching. Far too close to even consider using cannons without endangering themselves as well. 

The Golden Felucca floated a little higher on the water, giving the opposing pirates an immediate advantage. They stood with swords drawn, and it would have been a mirror image of The Thief’s Halyard had Percival been anywhere in sight. Of course they’d come to expect cowardice from the other captain after so long, but it was always unsettling to see a crew set loose without the support of their leader at the head. 

For a quiet, peaceful, moment, the two opposing forces locked eyes. 

Then one man leapt across the gap down to The Thief’s Halyard and the others followed all at once, flying into the fray of battle. Ray, Mabel, and a few others who’d given up on readying cannons surged up to meet them, swords clashing and shouts raising. Others fell back near the walls to guard precious resources and money. 

Floyd watched on from the background, holding his own sword in a careful grip. He looked for weaknesses in the enemy, hoping to join in and assist instead of fighting alone, but one opponent broke through the wall of combatants and charged straight for him. On instinct, he fell back on the defensive. 

Aggressive blows fell short as Floyd dodged them, landing in a loose fighting stance. He parried the swings that came next and lunged forward when his opponent relented, attempting to drive him back into the fray. Light footwork kept him balanced as they traded attacks, but the heavy strikes crashing down wore at his defense. 

He tried to keep up the pace as his vision tunneled. A strike nicked his hand, another grazed his arm, and nobody else seemed to take notice of his struggle. Floyd needed to find a window of vulnerability soon and end this.

He stepped back to avoid a slash, almost tripping over himself in an effort to get away when he saw his opportunity. His opponent seemed distracted, eye caught on something behind Floyd, and he took his chance. The redhead surged forward with a shout and thrust out his sword arm.

The blade should’ve hit its mark, buried itself in their side, and sent his weakened foe to their knees. And it would have, had he not stopped inches short, momentum suddenly halted and thrown backward by a strong grip on his wrist. Floyd fell off balance, his instinctive cry crushed to silence when his body slammed full force against a wall, knocking the breath from his chest. His vision swam and his hands pushed weakly against the wood, but a firm pressure on his shoulder and sternum kept him pinned. Heaving breaths couldn’t quite fill his lungs. Belatedly, over the ringing in his ears, he realized someone was speaking to him.

“...breathe, dear. Come on... yes, that’s it. Now look at me. I said look at me…” 

There was a man in front of him. There was a man with an eerily familiar voice and a sword pressed dangerously close to his heart that took the breath from him all over again. The tanned hand holding his shoulder released and lifted his chin in a gentle grip. A reminder as Floyd finally registered the command. His eyes raised slowly to meet the man’s and he was pinned to the spot. 

Amber eyes burned even in the shadows, a stunning, terrifying, captivating window into the depths of Hell. A few loose strands of dark, sandy hair framed them.

Percival, his mind supplied through shock and fear. Of course. He’d seen the man at a distance before, heard his voice through the haze of a dream. In some way, meeting him was familiar. 

The sword splitting skin on his chest snapped him back to reality.

“Please,” Floyd begged breathlessly in a voice so quiet he almost couldn’t hear himself, “p-please I, I can't, I'm not, I’m not ready to, to-”

“Oh, nobody ever is, are they?” The blade’s pressure let up, traced his shirt over to his right shoulder. His heart hammered as he looked helplessly back into Percival’s eyes. “Come on, don’t waste your words. If you think you can change my mind, then do so, and quickly.” 

There wasn’t enough time to think before the molten lava behind his pupils hardened and a line of pain lanced down Floyd’s arm. He couldn’t speak past the airy keen rushing out of his chest, but the blade tainted with his blood moved back over and somehow he forced the sound to stop, his lungs to breathe, and his lips to speak. 

“I’m- please, Percival-” Floyd choked out the name, his voice cracking miserably with repressed tears, cheeks burning with humiliation. He hated the words itching to spill, but he had nothing else to offer. “I’ll do anything, I promise. I can- I can be u-useful, whatever you need I can- I’ll- just please don’t kill me!”

The horrible heat of shame flashed through him and nearly sent him to his knees, but it made Percival pause. He looked Floyd up and down, inclining his head in what may have been a confidential nod. 

Had he done it? Had he appeased Percival? 

The air stilled around the two, and the battle still raging faded away into white noise. 

He didn’t even see the fist fly through the air before it crashed into his jaw, knocking him to the ground as his vision faded to black. The other man may have said something, then, but he could only hear the ringing in his ears before that left him, too.

————————————

Next

[lucky-ladybugs-lovelies]

Whumptober Fic, 2

Post-series YGO, the Big 5 have repented, Yami Marik is torturing them.

2. "Pick Who Dies."

Yami Marik made good on his word. Within moments he had returned, and with a cruel sneer and a snap of his fingers, the shackles vanished. Lector and Nesbitt lowered their arms, relieved but not relaxed. Whatever happened now would be worse.

"Are you both ready to duel?" Yami Marik grinned. "That's what I have in store for you now—you'll duel each other."

"With what kind of stakes?" Lector demanded.

Nesbitt nodded in agreement. "We all know you wouldn't set up a friendly, harmless duel."

"Well, when you're right . . ." Yami Marik spread his arms wide as the scenery changed. Now it looked like they were standing inside a raging volcano, with only two small pieces of rock to stand on in the midst of the flowing lava. To their sides, another slab of rock appeared, with the rest of the Big Five on it. They started, shocked and bewildered.

"Lector?! Nesbitt?!" Johnson exclaimed.

"What the heck's goin' on?!" Crump yelped.

"I don't know!" Nesbitt cried. "This thing abducted us!"

Gansley gripped his cane. "So he has survived," he said sorrowfully.

Lector studied the scene, swiftly turning pale in spite of the heat. For the others to have been brought, they were obviously going to be part of this madness. "You want them to watch us?" he coldly asked.

"Oh, not just watch you," Yami Marik said. "Their continuing existence depends on both of you. Whichever of you wins, one or more of them will be saved. The loser of the duel, along with the rest of your friends, will die. So, you'll have to choose which of your friends you're going to be saving!" He laughed, loud and heartless. The sound tore into the other's hearts.

"You think we're going to do this?!" Nesbitt snarled.

"If you refuse to duel, all of them will die," Yami Marik informed him.

"This is madness!" Gansley was infuriated. He knew it would tear his friends' hearts irreparably to have to make such a horrible decision, but there was nothing he could do.

Lector clenched his fists. The rage was building inside of him. Yami Marik had the power to back up his threats. It was possible that all of this was an illusion, that the others weren't even really here, but they couldn't take that chance. But . . . they couldn't risk killing any of them either. There had to be a way out of this mess!

"Nesbitt." He looked to his tortured friend. "We have to do this."

"What?!" Nesbitt boomed. "We can't!"

"And yet we can't not. There has to be a solution, but we probably won't find it unless we duel." Lector reached into his pocket for his deck.

Outrage flamed in Nesbitt's eyes. It truly was a helpless situation. "I'm not going to send you and some of the others to their deaths!" he yelled.

"And I'm not going to do that to you or any of the others," Lector insisted.

Gansley gripped his cane. "Lector is right that there must be a solution, Nesbitt," he said. "During the course of your battle it may come to you."

"And what if it doesn't?!" Nesbitt retorted.

"We are not going to think like that," Lector snapped.

"Yeah, well, I have to think like that," Nesbitt said. "I can't put all my faith in the heart of the cards! If we commit to this duel and something goes wrong . . ."

The slab began to shake. Crump yelped, while Gansley fell to his knees. Johnson grabbed for him.

"If we don't commit, there's no hope at all!" Lector cried. "We don't have a choice, Nesbitt!"

The sight of the slab sinking was more than enough to convince Nesbitt of that. "Alright!" he exclaimed. "We'll duel! Stop!"

Yami Marik waved his hand and the slab held still. "I knew you wouldn't be that foolish, Nesbitt," he leered.

Both Lector and Nesbitt were tensely wound up during the duel. Every draw, every card played, every attack and defend, was thought out much more than even usual, and both were methodical Duelists in general. What was the way to ensure no deaths? There was always one winner, one loser. And in this heartbreaking situation they were all set up to lose. The "winner" would still lose his opponent and some of the others, and he would never recover, especially for being forced to bring about that outcome. Nesbitt doubted that he could even keep living if it were him. He would either die of a broken heart or end his own life out of despair and grief and horrific guilt. There could be no winners in this duel. But to save everyone, there had to be no losers either. But that was impossible, unless . . .

"Nesbitt!" Lector exclaimed.

Nesbitt looked up at his friend with a start. From Lector's new resolve and shining eyes, he had figured it out. What had suddenly occurred to Nesbitt had also occurred to him.

"I know what we have to do," Nesbitt said.

Lector nodded. "Let's do it!"

Yami Marik's expression twisted in frustration. But there was nothing he could do to stop the duel from proceeding. He clearly hoped their plan would fail and he would still be the ultimate winner. But in the end, Lector's and Nesbitt's skillful dueling finally managed to end the match in a draw. No winners, no losers. The magic's effect could have no hold.

The scenery faded back to the darkened building where they had began. Perhaps they had never left. All of the Big Five looked around in amazement and disbelief.

"We did it?!" Nesbitt exclaimed.

Lector gave him a deep smile. "We did it, my dear friend."

"You saved all of us! And yourselves too!" Crump grinned.

Gansley got to his feet and gave them a smile of approval. "We all knew you were capable of winning."

Yami Marik snarled. "That may be, but that doesn't mean you'll get them back!" He waved his hand and a wall went up, separating them from his original prisoners.

"Hey!" Crump bellowed.

Lector tensed again. It had been too much to hope for that there wouldn't be any more trouble, but he had hoped anyway. But they were still at this demon's mercy. And of course, he had none.

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Severed Bonds (Chapter 14)

Summary: Edge, Jedi Knight, is lost in a Galaxy without the Jedi Order and the only one left to him is one who already betrayed them all.

Tags/Warnings: Spicyhoney, Star Wars AU, Darkfic, Angst, Minor Character Deaths, Friends to Enemies to ?, Hatesex…?, Trauma, Implied Possible Insanity, Rough Sex, Lemons, Mentions of Prostitution,  Violence, Possessiveness

Notes: Just a quick reminder about the warnings on this story! There’s violence and angst, dark themes, and as a Sith, it’s safe to say Rus is mentally unwell.This is the first chapter I’ve done from his POV, so brace yourself.

Severed Bonds: a Spicyhoney SW AU

CH1 | CH2 | CH3 | CH4: Interlude | CH5 | CH6: Interlude 2 | CH7 | CH8 | CH9 | CH10 | CH11 | CH12 | CH13 |

Read Chapter 14 on AO3

or

Read it here!

~~*~~

From belowdecks, deep within the bowels of the ship that held the humming engines and machinery, Rus sat working, his focus entirely on the equipment beneath his hands.

He ignored the exhausted tremor in his fingers as a mere annoyance. It was hardly the first time he’d gone without sleep; the nightmares he kept locked up tight during the day slipping their chains whenever they had a chance. He was the closest thing to an engineer around—Stars knew Edge was shit at it— and the ship didn’t care how tired he was; maintenance needed to be done regularly if they were going to get off this shitheap of a planet.

If, yeah, there was the rub. Wherever they ended up going. had to be somewhere they could go, someplace to hide, but the Force was everywhere, in everything—the panic starting to jibber in one of Rus’s mental corridors was forcibly shoved away, banked for now.

It would break free eventually, probably the next time he forced himself to look at a star map, but he’d humiliated himself enough for one night. His mind was a labyrinth filled with dead ends and false doors, defenses built from desperation against himself as much as other minds trying to invade.

Ones still trying to invade. The memory of his Master breaking through his shields all those years ago, the oily-sweet pleasure of the Dark side that promised an end to the ongoing pain, ah, that memory was close off in a special mental room, bolted shut. But that was a lock often broken.

Broken like he was, Rus thought with savage amusement. Because he was, oh, yes. Edge might like to pretend there was something to piece back together, that there was a puzzle to solve within Rus. He could tell himself as many lies as he liked, Rus was broken, knew it, and he didn’t give a shit.

All he wanted was to stay alive with Edge. And to get off of this soul-sucking piece of shit planet, but he supposed that fell under staying alive, didn’t it.

For now, he hummed to himself, stripping out old wiring to replace with new that he’d bartered for in the mining town. He tipped his light source downward, the better to see what he was doing, and kept working.

He knew when Edge left the ship, felt his Force signature fade into distance. Most of him didn’t care. Some of him didn’t care.

The part that did spoke up then to gripe about it and the voice was one of his old crèche attendants; a yammering, bitter old Gorith, her skin faded to pale green and who might’ve retired some years ago, only clinging to her spoiled dreams of Jedi greatness as she scolded the children over their bedtimes and cleaned teeth.

She scolded him now, though her words weren’t ones ever said to any child, He wouldn’t have left if you’d let him fuck you. But you had to be terrible, had to be Sith, you—

Her diatribe was interrupted by a harsh laugh, a voice that once belonged to Rus, torn from days of screaming and healed except for in his mind, He’s Fucked Him Plenty. Pretty Little Jedi Can’t Take A Joke. It turned into an argument in the back of his head, those splintered voices squabbling. It made him want to clutch the sides of his head, scream at them to shut up for fucking once, but he couldn’t stop it, could he. They were all him, in the end. Another voice piped up, was that the Jedi Padawan? Rus, Papyrus, they didn’t claim a name, and their voice was a mere whisper as they meekly put forth, edge cares about us. Only for a rebuttal to come, raw and gleefully, He Cares About Fucking You. About Fucking Us, Rather, Not Very Picky, Is He. Were You Really Such A Bad Lay As A Jedi That You Couldn’t Even Seduce Him? Needed Me, Didn’t You, Someone For Him To Save, To Hurt— “I’m not listening,” Rus said aloud. They ignored him, like always. He didn’t want to listen, but his focus was caught between the machinery beneath his hands and the cold delight of Sith that told him Edge’s concern for him lay only between his legs. He was nothing but a cunt or a dick, whatever Edge needed, a receptacle for his pain, and he stayed only because there was nowhere else for a Jedi to go. True, it was the truth, he knew it was the truth. None of the other voices could offer any other. The Sith was strongest within him, often swarming in to take over and that was when Rus was cruelest, he knew, even while the Jedi in his mind wept, trapped back behind scars and webbed over pain. Lashing out at Edge made him feel better…for a time. Then he was left with his own bitter emptiness, and the shocked look on Edge's face no longer soothed, but ached. Edge would come back, he told himself, if only because he had to. He’d work to exhaustion in the mines, come back with a pathetic pile of credits and whatever rations he could, when he did, Rus would take his turn to go out and earn them some real funds. The amount that he already had secreted away would likely make Edge concerned to see, his face falling into that lost expression that said he was trying not to think of how Rus earned them. Probably for the best he didn’t know. Didn’t mean that Rus wouldn’t take glee in telling him someday.

Rus sighed, suddenly weary. He was trapped on this shithole planet, on this ship, with his fractured, bitter thoughts and there was nothing he could do about it until Edge came back.

When he did, maybe Rus wouldn’t leave the ship after all. Maybe he’d stay and remind Edge who he belonged to, that he might play-offer to act as Edge’s slave but They both Knew better, Didn’t They, Make Him—

No. Rus shook away the Sith’s greedy voice. He’d stay or he’d go, and whatever he did with Edge would be his choice and no one else’s.

He gathered up his kit, tucking little tools into his belt pouches and decided to go back up to the galley to get one of the dry ration bars Edge brought back.

He didn’t get two steps out of the Engine room when a sound in the main corridor made him stiffen. Edge wouldn’t have left the mines so quickly unless something was very wrong. But no one else should have been able to get past the ship’s shields without setting off an alarm.

Careful, Be So Careful, The Master Will Find Us Eventually, Careful—

Subtle nuances eluded him these days, but when he reached out with the Force, Rus could feel a dulled presence, overshadowed with something resembling pain. He stepped into the corridor, lightsaber in hand, ready, eager, for an opponent.

Only for his sockets to widen as he caught sight of BD-7. Or what remained of it. Torn wires sparked, small limbs clattered as it struggled to make its way along the corridor wall.

Rus went to it hastily, clipping his lightsaber to his belt as he crouched to eye the damage. The little droid had take a hell of a beating; one of its optics hung from the socket, dim and unlit, and it dragged one limp, useless leg behind it. The metal of its body was scorched with the telltale marks of blaster fire.

It caught sight of Rus with its working optic and let out a warbling cry, a wordless moan of mechanical agony.

“easy,” Rus murmured, already working to pry up a tiny maintenance panel with his fingers. It was the work of moments to reroute the constantly pinging error messages so they would stop assaulting BD-7’s processors. The little droid hardly needed them to let it know the extent of its damage and the lack of ‘pain’ would allow its processors to clear enough to answer questions, and of those Rus had plenty.

He barely waited for the droid to go limp with relief before demanding, ”where is edge?" Its sound module crackled, but Rus could understand BD-7 well enough. “Captured. Hunters. He fought hard but he was overwhelmed.” It lifted its head, glaring at Rus with its one lit optic. “Because of you! You distracted him!” "you’re probably right,” Rus agreed, readily accepting blame. Certainly Edge’s Jedi calm had been in shreds when he fled from Rus earlier. His own satisfaction at the sight had soured almost immediately and now they were all going to suffer from his giving in to petulance.

BD-7 wouldn’t be able to feel it, but it was surely aware that Rus was doing a few hasty field repairs. The leg was past an easy fix, but Rus could at least splint it to allow the droid to walk awkwardly. The optic he sealed over with insulating tape, stuffing the burnt out wires into the damaged socket to deal with later. Before he could tape off the other sparking cables, the little droid tried to jerk away, its working leg scraping the decking. “You need to help him!” “we will,” Rus told him calmly. He yanked BD-7 closer again and began sealing off the rest of the wires despite its squawking.

The furious inner workings of his mind creating plans weren't visible to the little droid, who only glared at him with its remaining optic and demanded, “Now!” “we will!” Rus said, sharply. “they can't take off for at least eighteen standard hours, not until we clear the gas giant's gravity well. we have a little time. now let me finish this or you’re going to be useless to me.” BD-7 went grudgingly lax, allowing him to finish taping. Which should’ve been enough, but Rus couldn’t help the words that tumbled out, urged on by the memory of the little droid’s past attacks on his boots.

“you’re very loyal for only having known him for a few weeks, aren’t you, pet.” The droid made a rude sound and tried to release its welding tool, but Rus pressed down on the little hatch until it gave up, sullenly sinking back to the deck. It was enough, a sip of hatred even from a droid satisfying the Sith.

When he finished, Rus scooped BD-7 up and settled it on his shoulder, holding on until he was sure it had a grip.

Its dislike didn’t keep it from leaning against Rus’s skull, warbling out mournfully, ”Help him?”

Rus gave it an absent pat. “we will. first we need to find him.” “Use the Force,” BD-7 said urgently. Rus snorted in disgust. Of course. Non-Force sensitives always went that route. To them, the Force was either a hoax or an all-encompassing magical miracle. “that's a precious thought, but i'd rather use the tracker i hid on him.” The droid let out a sputtering noise of outrage as Rus pulled the monitor control from his belt. “oh, stop complaining,” Rus chided. “it's coming in handy, isn't it?”

The map showed a grotto of some sort, not too far away, but enough for one that was on foot. They’d need to hurry because if they got Edge off-planet, he’d be looking for a single star in a galaxy.

My star. Mine. For once, all the voices in his head were in agreement. Find Edge and get him back, no matter the cost.

Rus strode off in the direction of the hatch, and the Sith said, cheerily, “Now, Why Don’t We Go Make Someone Pay For Taking What’s Ours, Shall We?”

The droid’s beeps of bloodthirsty agreement only made him laugh in delight.

~~*~~

TBC

Next

[memoirsofratasum]

Protector Tarnn: The Eye of the North

So many people have been making their way north chasing Bangar that it’s actually kind of amazing that I never made it that far into the Shiverpeaks. My duties had taken me back to the warmer jungles of Tarir. Years ago I had done some preliminary work on copying and translating the Exalted’s tablets and now some magisters wanted to consult with me on transcribing a new set of tablets that had been found in a corridor recently cleared of debris. Not the most exciting work, but you don’t want to snub any of your higher ups when you’re looking for advancement.

Sure the job had its own share of adventures, the jungle hasn’t changed much, but it was the assignment I got after that was noteworthy.

The location of the Eye of the North was never exactly a secret. The old ruin is famous among most of the races, a place of history for all of Tyria. But in spite of that importance, the tower has been mostly left alone, even by the Priory. It’s location in the mountains was too difficult to keep excavation teams supplied. The relatively recent invention of airships alleviated that issue, but with the Elder Dragons we had better places we needed to fly too.

So imagine my surprise when I was called into Steward Gixx’s office and asked if I knew anything about the Eye of the North. As much as anyone does, the occupation by the Ebon Vanguard, the scrying pool, the battle with Primordus’ lieutenant, and that it’s been mostly left alone for 250 years. And that’s when Gixx got this gleam in his eye and I knew I was going to be trekking north after all.

I wasn’t going alone though. Gixx had a guest for me to meet. A familiar stick-in-the-mud asura, Inscriber Nivv. I haven’t seen him since Istan. I had already figured by his presence that this must involve waypoints, which Gixx confirmed before I could open my mouth. The short of it is that the Arcane Council was contacted by an anonymous client who commissioned for a waypoint and asura gate activation in the Eye of the North. Nivv, having been impressed with my bodyguard work in the past, had requested me by name. The last time this happened I was certain that he had slipped my commanding magister a sack of gold for my services, Gixx has to be getting something out of this too. He’s grinning too much like a loon for it to just be mystic coins under the table. Probably has at least one member of the Arcane Council owing him a favor. Doubt I’ll see the gains when that gets fulfilled.

Nivv on his part seemed completely unsuspicious on how this deal manifested. He was eager to work with me again. This little expedition was going to be bigger than the Istan one as it included gate technicians and enough equipment to build a new gate from scratch if it came to that. The danger assessment had it’s holes, but there didn’t seem to be any svanir or renegade charr in the region, not even a nearby kodan sanctuary. Just wild animals and the elements. The mysterious client didn’t say why they wanted the Eye hooked up to the modern teleport systems all of a sudden, though it’s easy to imagine someone rich wanting to aid in the war effort as it would make for a good base and staging ground. The only thing I can guess about their identity is that they aren’t Pact, this is well outside the usual protocols.

Regardless, we were in the air within a couple days. The Arcane Council had chartered us an airship out of LA crewed by members of the lionguard, guess Gixx was willing to lend out me but not one of the Priory transports. Not as swift and battle ready as the Pact ships, it was at least a more comfortable ride in comparison. The civilians disagreed but I was just glad to not have to sleep next to the roar of the engine.

We were scheduled to be in the air 3 days but the pilot and navigator were worried about the adverse weather in the Shiverpeaks. Since Grothmar things had apparently gotten worse and not for the first time I wondered how Sanna was holding up. I wouldn’t expect an elementalist of her talents to be overwhelmed by any sort of weather, but there have been rumors trickling down from Bjora Marches of worse things. Apparently the wind whispered to you and a curse from hunger could turn you inside out. I’m not sure what to believe and the Pact brass was not willing to discuss it. Some said that they don’t want to scare off assignees before they get there, but other quieter whispers was that no one could be certain if any charr members were in league with Ruinbringer and could leak information. This had happened with the sylvari once already, and now our charr brethren? That sort of distrust would only prove Ruinbringer right. But it’s not my call to make. The last official announcement was Soulkeeper’s fate, Alchemy keep her, when I was in the jungle. After that everything seemed to be on a need-to-know basis.

The first day in the air went by as normally as one could expect. The Sanctum Harbor soon gave way to the biting cold of Lornar’s Pass. Familiar landmarks passed underneath us but it was too cold to stay out on deck without a reason. Nivv showed me the crates in the cargo hold that held the waypoint and gate components. If it wasn’t for the asuran script stamped on the metal, you’d have guessed they were normal shipments of smithing or artificing components. Nivv wanted to impart the importance of the crates but he didn’t need to bother. Easy access to the Eye could guarantee the Pact and it’s allies were always better prepared than Ruinbringer, wars have been won with less. Nivv wanted me to check on the crates during our journey, the components were delicate and if the rough weather prediction was correct he didn’t want them to get jostled around too much.

The second day things started to feel a little...off. It had gotten colder, we were over Frostgorge Sound, and the krewe was huddling around a space heater grumbling to themselves. My wolf Valor though didn’t have the mind to join in, instead his ears were up and eye trained on one of the human lionguard crew member, an engineer whose name I didn’t know. The wind was whistling strongly through a seam somewhere and I realized the engineer wasn’t occupied with his work like I had assumed, but staring down at the cold asura with something akin to contempt in his eyes. That wasn’t going to fly. I got his attention just as the wind calmed down and he muttered something about being needed elsewhere and wandered off his with wrench.

I didn’t think much of it, some people are just jerks and its not worth wasting brainspace on them. I went to check on the crates to see if they had shifted overnight. At first glance they were just as we had left them the day before, but just as I was about to leave I noticed that parts of the metal looked deformed. Not by a lot, just some shallow dents on the top seam, as if hit by a blunt instrument. Such a thing isn’t uncommon as old crates gain some wear after being used over and over again. But I could have sworn that the crates were new. Maybe I just misremembered. It’s not worth bring up to Nivv.

This airship must be full of holes, the wind sounded like it’s in my ears.

I returned to the inner decks and found some of the krewe in an argument. Cram a bunch of self-proclaimed geniuses in one place with no easy way out and it’s bound to happen. I was going to leave them to it, I’m not here to protect their egos from themselves, but Valor was standing stiff, staring at them. That moment of hesitation gave me enough time to see one of the krewe members lash out and a trail of red appear on her opponent’s cheek.

I immediately blinked into the middle of it, grabbing her wrist before she could even finish the swiping motion, a shard of bloody glass clenched in her hand. What was her name again? Calli? Well, whoever she was blinked as if she was just waking up from a dream which turned into a growing horror as she realized what she just did. The glass shard fell from her hand, no idea where she could have gotten it from, as she started crying, claiming that she didn’t mean to do it, that a voice in her head told her too. I didn’t care about any of her stammering excuses.  Assaulting a krewe member, or anyone on your side for that matter, will not be tolerated on my watch. I had the lionguard escort her to the brig, Nivv could sort his people out himself. 

The wind started to die down.

Her victim seemed more shocked than hurt, the scratch on his cheek was shallow and I was able to use a little guardian magic to close the wound. Strangely, he couldn’t recall what the argument was about. It wasn’t over anything normal, like a theory or paper. I’m sure getting attacked by a colleague pushed it right of it his mind.

Things seemed to quiet down after that. Nivv was beside himself over Calli’s behavior. It didn’t bode well for when they got to work at the Eye. A rebellious krewe member I could handle though, so I found myself drifting off as I checked my armor while he continued to babble on about how to reassigned the work if Calli was out and then ley line nodes and molecular relays and on and on.

The wind was picking up again and his voice blended with it. Whatever he was talking about didn’t matter. I probably shouldn’t even be here playing progenysitter to a bunch of spoiled technicians anyway. Didn’t I leave Rata Sum specifically to not do this sort of work anymore? 

A low growl from Valor jerked me back to reality. I looked up from my polishing to see that Valor had placed himself between me and Nivv, his ears and hackles both up and his teeth half-barred. A warning.

Nivv looked startled and confused, as if he didn’t realize where he was, his scepter clattered to the floor. He didn’t have an answer when I starred him down and asked what was wrong. He seemed nervous and more than a little scared. As he should be. I don’t want to think one of Sanna’s old acquaintances and a person who I’ve worked with before would willing to stab me in the back, but if he was he’d have to be a lot more prepared than this. I said as much when I pressed his scepter back into his hands.

Nivv didn’t stick around, leaving me and Valor alone. My wolf nudged at me and licked my face, his tension eased.

The wind quieted and I felt like I could think again. 

What the hell was going on? I couldn’t even remember what I was just thinking about. Were we honestly going stir crazy after only a day in an enclosed space? That didn’t seem right.

Every asura on the ship tried to avoid each other for the rest of the day, casting distrusting eyes on their krewemates and myself. The lionguard seemed on edge as well. The only person who seemed to have any sense of control was the airship captain, a norn with a hammer on his back and an adherent of wolf if the tattoos are anything to go by. He stopped me in the hall after dinner under the pretense of wanting my input on flying over Bitterfrost Frontier as I had been there before. But I could tell that what he really wanted was to know more about Valor. Guardians aren’t known for their animal companions after all. The captain nodded in understanding when I told him that Valor had once been a shrine wolf, that the shaman had tasked me with healing his wounds after rescuing her wolves from the Svanir, and that he’s been with me ever since as support for my mental wellbeing rather than as a ranger companion. The captain nodded as he listened and scratched Valor behind the ears. Said that Wolf must see me in a good light to allow me one of his wolves. Yeah I dunno about that. 

The captain then asked if I had noticed anything unusual going in with the asura krewe. He seemed to have noticed that some of his lionguard acting suspicious and on edge, or being found in the cargo hold when they had duties elsewhere, or hesitating at the controls before following his orders. That didn’t sound good. Sounds like both crew and krewe are acting out when they should be more professional than this. It was worrying but the captain said that we should reach the Eye by the end of the day tomorrow and it would be easier to sort this all out once on solid ground. He bid me goodnight and that Wolf watch over me.

I think that was the longest span of time throughout the entire day where the wind wasn’t howling in my head.

The next morning we were flying over territory unfamiliar to my eyes. We had to be getting close to the Eye. Tensions hadn’t eased but nothing had exploded. Nivv wrung his hands and avoided my gaze when I asked if his krewe would be able to at least do the work when we touched down. The last thing I wanted was to essentially have come all this way for nothing. I know Gixx wanted Priory footprints in the snow, but fat lot of good that does him if the promised transportation isn’t there.

I needed to calm down, I was just adding to the tension and unease. Someone was going to snap at this rate and I couldn’t let it be me.

By midday I decided to check on the cargo hold again. The crates definitely didn’t have those dents yesterday. They weren’t the small indents that could be waved away by some rough handling. They were caved in and clumsily strewn across the floor, one spreading crystalline dust like blood out of a newly formed crack. The turbulence hadn’t been that violent. It was clearly sabotage. 

I sprinted from the hold, calling for Nivv when the airship suddenly listed sharply to the side, causing me to lose my footing. The airship swung wildly again and I slammed into a wall that was acting more as a floor. 

The wind was deafening.

Nivv’s crates could wait. I needed to make it to the bridge.

Alarms were blaring and the windows were almost a solid white from a blizzard. But that wasn’t the part that shocked me when I reached the bridge.

The human engineer from the day before was at the controls, spinning wheels and throwing switches seemingly at random. But the lionguard pilot and navigator, one with blood on his temple, were desperately trying to wrestle him away. The airship was still spinning wildly and it felt like we were rapidly losing altitude. 

And the captain just watched.

I didn’t have the time to think my actions through, I needed that time to act instead.

I rushed forwarded and wove my way in-between the struggling lionguards and threw a fist at the engineer’s solar plexus. He doubled over immediately, air knocked knocked out of him, and I was able to drag him away and allow the pilot and navigator to reassert control. 

The captain still showed no reaction.

The wind had risen to a roar.

The tension cracked when Nivv charged in, demanding to know what was going on. The blank expression on the captain’s face never changed, but his stance shifted. I moved at the same time. I slid in front of Nivv, my shield rippling into existence just in time for the captain’s hammer to ricochet harmlessly off the shiny surface. 

I had to think fast. The bridge of an airship was not the ideal place for a fight. Fire magic was out of the question and my sword could easily damage the controls. My staff might have been my best option, casting from range and drawing the captain away the bridge and the now terrified pilot and navigator.

The captain raised his hammer again but instead of falling, a mass of fur slammed into the captain, knocking him off his feet. Teeth sunk into his wrist, forcing him to drop the hammer and scream in pain, his first natural reaction out this entire encounter.

I dropped my shield and ran to my wolf. Valor had the captain at his mercy, holding him in place and tightening his jaw at any movement he didn’t like. This gave me some time to get some answers.

The captain though was worse off than Calli. He didn’t know what he was doing. A voice had been gnawing at his mind, telling him that the asuran krewe couldn’t be allowed to succeed in their mission. Why? He had no idea. He couldn’t even say who the voice in his head belonged too. But he thanked Wolf for bringing him to his senses before he did something he regretted. 

I didn’t think that was good enough. We where still hours from the eye and who knew how long before the waypoint and the gate were operational, if they could even be brought online after the pummeling their crate’s took. The captain maybe remorseful now, but there was still time for sabotage. In my opinion, he and the still dazed engineer should be thrown in the brig and LA radioed. That is if the pilot could make the landing without the captain’s instructions. 

I studying the subdued captain and mentally calculating the distance from LA for backup, when the wind fell silent and the snow stopped. Outside the windows, the sky was a glorious glow of oranges and pinks. It shouldn’t have been that late in the day yet. And unless the pilot still hadn’t gotten us on course, we shouldn’t be seeing the sunset through the bow windows. The sunset glistened and flew closer.

It wasn’t the sunset, it was Aurene!

The Prismatic Dragon circled the airship, a rainbow left in her wake. Her voice, somehow both within my head and out, gently instructed the airship to follow her to make a landing at the Eye.

The affect of the dragon was like taking a breath after being under water, everything felt calm and right. I placed my hand on Valor’s head and he released the captain from his jaws. The captain would still have to answer for his actions, but for right now I don’t think anyone will try anything while under Aurene’s shadow.

The Eye of the North was just like the stories, huge and imposing but most importantly safe. And being in a sheltered valley, the worse of the Shiverpeaks weather didn’t hit quite so hard. A few bears and wild wolves eyed us from the undergrowth, but a few demonstrations of my fire magic kept them there.

Aurene watched as we unloaded the airship into the main vestibule. As I had suspected, some of the components had been damaged. Crystalline filaments were shattered and the dust contaminated. Aurene offered to create any necessary crystal components the krewe may need and then she bidded us to her lair at the scrying pool, saying that she owed us an explanation.

As suspected by her presence here, Aurene was the anonymous client who had commissioned for the waypoint and reactivated asuran gate. She did not elaborate on how this was paid for. She then apologized to us. According to her, the voices and thoughts that had been in our heads was Jormag. Aurene had thought that with it’s mouthpiece Drakkar under threat, an airship could have slipped into the Shiverpeaks unnoticed. But she had underestimated Jormag and just how much of a threat a Tyrian foothold in the Eye would be to the Ice Dragon. The violence onboard the airship was solely Jormag’s responsibility. But now that we were under Aurene’s wings here at the Eye, we were outside of their influence. And if the campaign against Drakkar is successful, that influence would end permanently. 

However that campaign ended, Aurene still wanted the Eye up and running for Tyrian use. The krewe had a few days at most to complete their task. I have to patrol to perimeter, almost a vacation after that trip. The airship crew needed to take that time to assess for damages. And the captain...well he said he was going out into the forest to mediate on Wolf and not to worry about him. 

I hope Wolf keeps him, and all of us safe. And if not, I know Aurene will.

[vrainsrewatch]

episode 12 thoughts

i was like 10 minutes into the episode without taking many screenshots, but alas, the second half happened LOL. this is one of my favorite early episodes for all the questions it arises and hints it gives at revolver and playmaker’s backstories as well as what ai is.

before we really dive in, though,

ah, CR has finally figured out the TCG name for his deck lmao. took long enough!

the beginning of this episode is mostly dueling with little to no talking points, but i just love this line. yusaku really broke the mold for ygo protags, in a lot of ways, and it wasn’t for everyone, but i really really loved it.

but then of course, we get:

this part. oh man. there’s so much to unpack here. 

i’ll again bring up the fantastic irony of yusaku using ryoken’s very own words to power him through defeating ryoken, and it’s so good. clearly, the irony is not lost on revolver at all.

look at his face. this avatar was obviously designed to be a little less human looking; harder to read and much less expressive than his S2/S3 avatar. even still, you can tell he’s surprised. shocked, even, by this development.

on top of that, we get to hear yusaku’s three reasons for continuing again. the first being that he wants to know what happened to him,

the second, to regain the time he lost to the incident,

and the third, and most ironic statement of them all: to save ryoken.

honestly, i’m surprised that i didn’t pick up on the fact that revolver was this person originally. i had kind of suspected it by the end of their third duel during the tower arc, but it actually did surprise me quite a bit lol. it was a really good twist, but they leave so many clues to it. ik a decent number of people were expecting it, so maybe it’s just that i was binging it at the time and didn’t have as much of a chance to analyze it as i was going.

seriously, though, this is so powerful. you can see the way it effects revolver throughout the rest of the episode, too:

he’s visibly shaken up. he knows those words, he knows that speech pattern, and there’s only one person in the universe that could be.

how much must that’ve hurt him? to know that by some cruel twist of fate, the one child he reached out to, wanted to live a normal, happy life after being released, was now tied down by the same thing that chains him from a decade ago. god. i can’t even imagine.

we don’t have to, though, because this episode really, really makes a point to show and tell you how much this revelation upsets revolver. but more on that later.

we also have dr. kogami chiming in, and a nice panning shot over to spectre, who is still very much shrouded in mystery at the moment. it’s nice foreshadowing that spectre was also involved in the incident from ten years ago in some way, though, and one i appreciate for sure.

back to revolver though:

these are not words you’d say to someone you didn’t know, didn’t care about. up until now, revolver has treated playmaker as a complete stranger -- just another adversary in the way of his father’s goal. now, though?

these words are personal. he is torn. he is so obviously hurt that somehow, something went so wrong that the small child he wanted to rescue all those years ago is supposedly working for his greatest enemy.

he touches on it later, too, but before that we get this very messy screenshot lol i’m sorry

i love the way this was animated. it’s so cool. it’s awesome. i love it.

we also get more of revolver being an honorable opponent. seriously, i’m not sure where some of the fandom gets this idea of “he doesn’t care about the LI victims” or “he’s horrible to his opponents” and some other stuff i’ve thrown around. this whole episode just.... proves them wrong lol. 

again, you don’t have to like him -- i am more than just a little biased, lol -- but don’t like. erase his character. i’m not the biggest fan of akira, for example, but i don’t pretend like he didn’t do everything for aoi.

speaking of the zaizen siblings,

i really love this moment. their development throughout the series is so good, honestly, and this is the start of that change. the start of akira understanding his sister has grown up, and she deserves to be her own person.

he has a lot of learning to do still lol, but he’ll get there.

back to revolver, though.

remember how i said vrains very obviously shoves in our face how emotional he was? here’s another screenshot of that. his father even noticed it. his father, who has probably talked to him about emotions like, 3 times in his entire life lmao. come on. 

i don’t blame him for being torn, though. that’s gotta be confusing. 

finally though,

we end on this LMAO. where’s that post that says “vrains has the most iconic take on AI with free will” because, like, yeah. look at this little NERD. i love him. i miss him like this. i put him on my playmaker figma and i may have cried just a little bit.

that’s all for now! i might watch another episode later depending on if my friends decide to bail on me lol. we’ll see!