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thebigladjake · 4 years

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AX3001: Oddyssey - TV Show Research and Development: Giygas and the Intrigue of having an unexplainable villain

When it came to making a TV Show, I always had an idea for an Earthbound spiritual successor since 2018 and over this last Summer when we were briefed to make three TV Shows. I had to really think about what ideas I wanted to do. However, during my downtime, I suddenly remembered one specific thing about my Earthbound experience...

Giygas

The Embodiment of Evil, the Universal Cosmic Destroyer or the Almighty Idiot according to who you ask, Giygas is the main antagonist of Earthbound and appropriately serves as the game’s final boss before your adventure comes to a close. Granted, him being the very last thing you fight leads to you leaving with that boss fresh on your mind. But, I hadn’t played Earthbound for a few years... And Giygas just suddenly popped into my head. And a lot of the questions were “Why is he like this? This cute and friendly game has a boss that looks like a nightmare?” I was absolutely fascinated by this boss and it led to my second playthrough of the game.

Onett, the start of the Adventure

This is the hometown of our main character, Ness and effectively our window into the world of this game. We see the town he lives in, it’s so bright and colourful with all the town essentials! A burger shop, a town hall, an arcade, hospital, police station and library, it’s familiar to us as our hometowns most likely have similar locations. The vibrant colours of all the buildings is eye-catching and welcoming!

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The music is also worth noting as it’s very peppy and upbeat, it feels like the theme of a small town with a nice community. Most of the music follows this formula.

Most of the towns in the game follow this design and it does feel like you’re exploring more and more of the world, like you’ve ventured further than you have ever gone before and you’re not going to stop because this world is so interesting and welcoming!

Some towns deviate from the formula, but the good people in the towns help to established the same welcoming energy that we’re used to.

Now, let’s take a look at the final map before Giygas’ lair...

The Cave of the Past, the end of the Adventure

Complete contrast to what has been established this entire game. There are absolutely no colours, there are no buildings, no operations of Giygas’ in the background. It’s just a path to the end of the journey and it’s so simple... But, it’s super effective! The lack of colour helps to make it feel otherworldly, makes it feel alien to the world that you’re used to and that’s exactly what Giygas is, he’s not from the world.

Even our main cast of heroes could not be transported back in time without being transferred into robot bodies, all of their colour is gone too. All except Ness’ hat, showing a small bit of colour almost as if it’s that one bit of hope of beating Giygas.

At the end of games, usually going to the final boss’ lair will be some huge event where you see all of their plans, what they’ve built over time and will be accompanied by some epic score. Earthbound does things differently.

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Just give that a listen, it’s a eerie, droning piece that doesn’t sound like a great confrontation theme. It sounds like ambience more than a score to me and I think that makes it scarier, like you are in the positions of the kids who are probably incredibly scared of what they are going to have to face once inside that cave. It’s so incredible and it’s a sample of the Beach Boys song, ‘Deirdre’.

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It’s the opening note and I find it amazing how a single sample can do so much! There is another Earthbound track that I will link here which features a sample of the trumpet in the intro of the Beatles song, ‘All you need is Love’ and again, it sets up so much with just a tiny little sample.

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This is used just before going to the Cave of the Past, instead being the Cave of the Present. It’s technically just two notes with a reverb, but the sample adds so much and it just feels uncomfortable. However, we don’t need to talk about this for long, let’s go right to Giygas’ lair!

Giygas Lair, the true contrast to Earthbound’s style!

I apologise for the size of the image, but it’s pretty much a straight path but LOOK AT THIS! A trail of organs and entrails twisting and turning through this dark void until you find this uncanny monstrosity of a machine made of the same organic material you were walking on. This. This is what made me come back, it’s such a disturbing idea.

This is open to interpretation, but the way caves are represented in Earthbound is to only make sprites of the ground and walls. All the stuff you can’t see is black, just like how a cave should be. Giygas’ lair has this same motif, but there doesn’t really appear to be any walls around. So depending on your view, they’re either walking through a tunnel or entrails or walking through the void as previously stated. Personally, I think both are terrifically terrifying but I definitely see the void more.

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The organs pulse as you walk up them, the only noise complimenting the atmosphere is the clanking of robo-feet and the breathing of Giygas which is what I feel gives it the whole void feeling. It’s so unnerving that this is the final confrontation, but the fact that it is actually puts us in Ness and his friends shoes.

Getting to the Machine causes everything to stop, the ambience vanishes. Giygas’ intro music plays as the Machine changes to show the robots a picture of Ness’ face. Ness was prophesied to be the one who brings down Giygas and the first thing we see from the Machine is Ness, already suggesting to us that Giygas knows that we’re here...

Pokey, Ness’ childhood friend and eventual enemy over the course of the game, descends in a Spider Mech and just like that the Final Battle is about to begin!

The Final Fight

Of course, the final boss begins with Pokey standing before you with Giygas’ number one thought right now... Ness is here and he’s come to defeat me. This is a pretty standard affair for a boss, only Pokey can be harmed and he is much more a threat in this Spider Mech than he was previously in battle.

Giygas has a shield that is impervious to any kind of physical or psychic attacks and cannot be destroyed or disabled. He attacks using the special power that only Ness knows ‘PSI Rockin’’. His shield will always reflect your shots back at the character who attacks him and even when they have shield themselves, they will get hit regardless. The Machine is what keeps Giygas stable and alive, making him completely invincible...

However... He has one big idiot on his side...

Pokey can be damaged and the strategy of the fight is to focus on him and avoid any attacks that hit the both of them. Pokey, like the main cast, is a kid and he’s incredibly immature. So as soon as his mech is defeated, he taunts the main gang and turns off the Devil’s Machine... The one thing preventing Giygas’ defeat...

Giygas Released

Once released, Pokey explains that Giygas isn’t even himself anymore. He became so powerful that his body was destroyed and had to be contained into a machine in order to maintain some sort of grasp on his thoughts. Without that machine, the four heroes are taken into a dimension of Giygas’ thoughts and since we play as Ness we hear his thoughts directed towards us the player.

He reaches out with such thoughts as repeating Ness’ (The player’s) name, saying “I feel... Sad.” or “It feels good.” and added upon these thoughts Giygas’ attacks cannot be comprehended by our characters. It really helps to add a sense of hopelessness because we have no idea what is truly going on and we can’t fight what we don’t know.

An Unconventional Resolution

Attacks don’t work, defending won’t work either, you can’t heal or save yourself. All hopes seem lost until you notice a certain act that Paula can do. Pray.

When Paula prays, she reaches out to the world she left behind and the folks that are waiting for their return get the feeling that something bad is happening. So, they too pray from the bottom of their hearts...

https://youtu.be/cptFVD3eTEs?start=320&end=374

If you watch the small clip above, once he feels the support from the Earth. The sound cue to signify that Giygas has been damaged and that Giygas is not okay.

Onward to his next form.

Now I would like you to take a close look at this image, I’ve asked a few people about this and sometimes they get it without me saying anything and others don’t. So, just take a moment to find an image amongst the Giygas’.

Got it or have you given up? In the realm of Giygas, here in the black void is a pretty damn distinct shape of a baby. And this is what fascinated me about Giygas, there is a theory that this is symbolism for abortion as you go back in time to kill Giygas but that theory has been disproven by Shigesato Itoi, the game’s creator. There’s evidence that goes against this theory anyway, but this fetus imagery always stuck out to me.

It’s said to be a coincidence that the Super Nintendo generated these sprites and in this pattern. But, it’s such a definite shape of a baby and I find it absolutely mental that it’s just a coincidence. And that curiosity is what brought me back to Earthbound, just this happy go lucky game where you make friends with a little monkey that chews bubblegum, make friends with a man who converts himself into a huge dungeon man and at the very end, you’re faced with this.

It’s not only impactful imagewise, but storywise it’s just as impactful for the opposite reasons. As Giygas can now be damaged by feeling the love and support coming from the friends Ness has made across the world. Each time Giygas is hit, it gets worse, but the moment he really breaks down is when Ness’ Mother wakes up in the middle of the night and rushes downstairs with Ness’ little sister and their dog. They all feel uneasy and begin to pray for the safety of Ness and his friends.

https://youtu.be/cptFVD3eTEs?start=702&end=738

This is the moment Giygas truly breaks down, feeling the support of a loving Mother looking out for her son is a feeling he had long since buried. It’s about time I talk about the backstory of Giygas, while it’s not touched upon in Earthbound/Mother 2, in Earthbound Beginnings/Mother we see Giygas as an alien and we learn about how he came to be.

Giygas and Trauma

Giygas was an alien that was raised by Maria and George, a couple that was abducted by the other members of Giygas’ race. Maria adopted Giygas and looked after him while George studied their powers without their approval and eventually escaped with this knowledge, never being seen again. Once Giygas grows up, he was instructed to ensure that no human is capable of using PSI powers and not wanting to betray the people who raised him, he forcefully detached himself from Maria to prepare for the invasion.

Maria was sent back to Earth, but with amnesia and once the Eight Melodies are obtained, she regains her memory and explains that it was a song she used to sing to Giygas when he was young. This is very important.

Giygas’ first attempt to take over the world. He comes down, looking upon the gang and the battle begins. Starting the trend of Mother/Earthbound games having a unusual way of defeating the final boss. This time, the group begins to sing the Eight Melodies which brings up emotions in Giygas that he thought he had long since repressed or even got over. Giygas has a complete mental breakdown and recalls his forces, swearing revenge on the planet and that he will return.

In Earthbound, Giygas has worked on himself and made sure that what brought him down before cannot bring him down again. However, he didn’t do enough since the feeling of a loving Mother reaching out to her son in his time of need still hurts him severely and it’s at this point where Giygas can hardly do anything. His sprite starts contorting, the colours shift and the audio turns into a droning whirring noise.

Ness’ Mothers love is one thing, but it’s not enough. Giygas is wounded, but he is still fighting. Paula keeps praying for one more person and with a few more attempts, that person is you. There’s a moment in the game where the fourth wall is broken and asks you to enter your name. It can even be your full name, my name is pretty long and my name fits into it perfectly. It’s emotionally engaging since it includes you and you feel like in a way you are defeating him rather than Giygas being defeated by the world of the game.

https://youtu.be/cptFVD3eTEs?start=838&end=938

After this Giygas loses control, the whirring increases, his sprite distorts further to the point where he is unrecognisable, the visuals cutting in with static occassionally. Static that appears at the very beginning of the game, suggesting the approach of Giygas and showing pictures of the invasion, and at the end of the game it suggest that he’s retreating, he’s getting out of reach and eventually he is gone.

And after all of that craziness, the robots are outside of Giygas’ lair. Everything is quiet, “The War against Giygas is over.”

What was Shigesato Itoi thinking?

Shigesato Itoi drew inspiration from an event of his childhood, where he had walked into the wrong screen at the theatre. He walked in on a murder scene which as a kid he mistook for a rape scene which had such a potent effect on him. He drew inspiration from it for Giygas’ final battle and some of the things Giygas says.

In an interview, Itoi claims that there was a scene where a guy grabbed a woman’s breast which distorted it into a ball shape. He said “It all hit me really hard. It was a direct attack on my brain.” despite the fact that this doesn’t actually happen in the movie, which Itoi admits that his memories are a little fuzzy. It’s probably because it all happened so fast and his child brain may have created false memories or just failed to understand it. Itoi also goes onto say, "this sense of terror having atrocity and eroticism side-by-side, and that’s what Giygas's lines at the end are. During the end, he says, “It hurts,” right? That's... her breast. It’s like, how do I put it, a “living-being” sensation." and the purpose of the scene is to get the player’s mind working.

Another interesting part of this interview is when Itoi talks about typical villains and says this, “Well, you know, having a villain there who simply goes, “Wahahaha!” and the like would clearly be bad. But, actually, when I think about it, having villains go, “Wahahaha!” is a really intriguing pattern. But there’s no point in wondering all by yourself for days on end what it means for a bad guy to go, “Wahahaha!” at the climax of a game, you know? I get the feeling that there aren’t many people in the game industry who would do that sort of thing, though.” Which is something important to consider, Earthbound is such a colourful game bursting with personality, so having it end with just a standard final boss affair probably wouldn’t feel satisfying.

What the Earthbound/Mother series taught me about final confrontations?

Giygas’ character and what it taught me that even “Universal Cosmic Destroyers” can have trauma that they are trying to avoid and bury. It humanises them in a way and it can make the final confrontation that more powerful as it’s a problem we can all relate to. They’re not all evil for the sake of being evil, sometimes they don’t have a choice.

I think this is a good thing to take on board and I have already begun planning on my main antagonist’s motivations on Oddyssey. It might be changed since it’s a sensitive topic for me right now, but these motivations won’t be brought up in Season 1 anyway

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seeaddywrite · 5 years

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we’re all lonely together

A/N: for the Crashfest exchange at @roswellprompts, I got @queersirius‘s prompt of ‘anything revolving around the liz/maria/alex friendship. I ... may have gone a bit overboard in my excitement. this fic has been a true labor of love (emphasis on the labor because good gracious, the timeline for this show is NOT EASY TO FOLLOW) but I’m excited to share it. Millie, I hope it’s at least a little like what you wanted, & that you enjoy! You deserve all sorts of wonderful things for the fabulous contributions you make to this fandom -- your rec list & your fics are things that we all look forward to.

as usual, thanks to @soberqueerinthewild for being a second pair of eyes, putting up with my whining when i got lost in the timeline & my own head. additional thanks to @hannah-writes for letting me talk out some of my frustration & reminding me that i have, actually, finished a fic before, haha.

September, 1997:

Alex’s family moves to Roswell, New Mexico -- or back to Roswell, as his father is so fond of repeating, because that’s where the Manes men belong -- when he’s seven and going into the third grade. He’s lived here before, even in the same house, but nothing feels the same without his mom. There’s no home without her, and despite the boys all being packed in, two to a room, the place feels empty. And it is, at least of all the things that matter. There’s no affection anymore, except maybe when Harlan gets leave and comes home to see his brothers. Jesse Manes spends most of his time away from the house, usually with Jim Valenti or another man who whispers with him in corners and stops talking quickly when Alex walks into the room. It’s weird, but Alex is seven, and all he cares about is that his mom is gone, and he misses her.

School has already been in session for three weeks, and he hates being the new kid. He hates the way the other students all stare at him, especially in these small towns, and even avoids Kyle Valenti’s hopeful smile when he walks in. They were friends, once, before the Manes’ left Roswell for Jesse’s last station, and Sheriff Valenti’s made it clear that his son is happy to have Alex back. But Alex isn’t the same kid anymore, even at seven. In the short three years he’s been getting a public education, he has been to no less than five different schools. He’s given up trying to make friends, because what good is it when he’s just going to be somewhere else in a few months -- and even if he doesn’t, what’s to stop the other person from leaving? If his own mom could take off without telling anyone, anyone can, and Alex isn’t going to give them the chance. So he doesn’t smile, doesn’t answer any of the questions from the other kids about what it’s like to have a dad in the military, and does the work that’s put in front of him when the teacher insists.

The first two weeks are the worst. Alex ignores his classmates and his teacher, when he can get away with it, and glares at anyone who tries to penetrate the personal space boundaries he’s careful to cultivate. He mumbles answers to his brother Flint when he asks how school is going, and stands, spine rigid, while his father screams at him about responsibility, maturity, and his legacy when Alex kicks a boy on the playground for calling him a name and the principal calls home. Some part of him knows he should be ashamed of himself, but at least his father is looking at him while he’s yelling -- and any attention is the good kind, when his mom’s not around and he’s so lonely he wants to cry with the weight of it. He’s tired of being the easy-going youngest brother, he’s tired of moving and losing his friends, and he wants his mom back. How’s he supposed to just pretend everything’s fine when she’s not there?

Jesse Manes doesn’t see the sadness Alex is hiding, and if his brothers do, they don’t make any effort to help. Alex knows they’re all missing their mother in their own ways, but even so, he wishes just one of them would actually say something -- even just her name. He’s the only one who does, probably because he’s the only one who hasn’t yet seen what his father is capable of. That’s how he learns, though. He calls for her at night, in tears, and his father’s only response is to backhand him.

It’s two days later, when Alex is sitting alone on the playground under the jungle gym, that he meets Maria DeLuca for the first time. He’s expecting yet another question about living overseas, or what it’s like to have a dad who’s a war hero, but Maria isn’t anything like what he’d come to expect from the kids in his class. Instead, she plops down next to him, her bright pink pants getting covered in dirt and woodchips from the playground, and points up at the sky. “Did you know that those fluffy clouds are called cumulus clouds?” she asks, squinting against the sunlight. “I think that’s stupid, because they look like marshmallows, but Mr. Fintz keeps taking points off of my science tests when I write that they’re marshmallow clouds.”

Alex stares at the girl for a long moment, but his arms unfold from across his chest, and he tips his head back to look up at the clouds in question. She’s right -- they do sort of look like marshmallows, now that he’s thinking about it. “I don’t think science is supposed to make sense,” he says finally, because the girl doesn’t look like she’s going anywhere, and being mean to her when she’s only being nice would make him feel bad. “Otherwise, why would Ms. Simmons do that stupid dance to teach the water cycle?”

The girl laughs at that, and nods her agreement. It makes the braids on top of her head rattle, the tiny, multi-colored barrettes at the end of each one striking each other. “I’m Maria DeLuca,” she tells him proudly, her chin raised a little, like she’s expecting a smart comment about her name. Something deep inside of Alex recognizes a kindred spirit -- Maria is used to being the outsider, used to people teasing her or instantly recognizing her family name, just like him.

So Alex just nods, and even smiles a little. “I’m Alex,” he tells her, and it feels strange, to be nice to someone after so long of acting belligerently at school, but the grin on Maria’s face makes it easier.

“I already know who you are, Alex Manes,” she says, though he hasn’t said a word about his last name, and her knowledge takes him a little by surprise. “And no, no one told me. I’m a psychic. I just know things, sometimes.” Again, there’s that slight lift of her chin, a hint of challenge gleaming in her dark eyes, and Alex swallows the laugh that had been threatening at her proclamation.

“You just … know things,” he repeats slowly, trying not to sound too skeptical. Alex likes to read about people with psychic powers, like Professor X in his favorite Marvel comics, but he also knows that real people can’t read minds, and Maria is as real as he is. “Like my name?”

Maria nods seriously. “Yeah. And that you’re sad, and you need a friend who you can’t scare off.”

Alex isn’t sure if this girl is making fun of him or not. It’s hard to tell, when she’s so smiley and nice, but the things she’s saying don’t make any sense. “I’m not sad,” he insists too quickly, his gaze darting to the other students playing just a few feet away who might overhear. “I’m not!”

“Sitting by you makes me sad,” Maria tells him quietly, and takes his hand before Alex can even think of pulling away. It’s the first time someone’s touched him with good intentions in a long time, and he can’t help but stare down at that hand in his, trying to figure out why this girl is so determined to talk to him. She’s not even in his class, she doesn’t really know him -- but she’s right, about the way he feels and that he’s lonely, and could use a friend. He’s been thinking that way for a couple of days now, but he’s done enough damage with his classmates that none of them are options. Alex doesn’t believe her psychic story; maybe she heard someone talk about his mom leaving? Or maybe she knows that he’s sad because she feels the same way? But either way, Alex is pretty sure he doesn’t want to hurt her feelings enough for her to give up on him.

“My mom left,” he tells her in a hushed voice, still looking at their entangled hands. “And I miss her.”

The rest, about his brothers and his father, and all of the new schools, will come out later -- it’s impossible to hide for the sort of friend that Maria becomes, the friend that’s never content until she knows of his hurts and does her best to help heal them. Alex isn’t psychic. He doesn’t know, yet, that Maria will become the first person after his mother who feels like home, and he doesn’t realize that letting Maria DeLuca into his life means that he will never face another day of school without an unwavering ally at his side.

Right then, all Alex knows is that holding Maria’s hand makes him feel a lot less alone.

November, 2006:

Liz Ortecho explodes into Alex’s life like an earthquake, shaking the foundations of his rapidly shrinking world in the best way possible. Also like an earthquake, it’s almost inevitable; they’ve circled each other for years, sharing friends and classes but never quite connecting — until one day, after the news that Alex isn’t into girls has spread around the school like wildfire, Maria DeLuca grabs Alex’s wrist and drags him to a table in the cafeteria where the Ortecho sisters are waiting. She’s the only friend that hadn’t turned into a tormentor that year, aside from a few who are more acquaintances than anything, and Alex is ashamed to admit that he’s been clinging to her as his world shifts around him.

There’s no difference in the way Maria treats him, though. They bitch about classes and teachers together and spend their study halls outside in the grass, listening to music on their MP3 players and taking turns introducing each other to new songs. Maria is his staunchest defender until Alex gets his feet under him and starts fighting back against the jocks who seem determined to make his life hell, and Maria’s also the one who buys him his first eyeliner pencil. Sometimes, she drags him to her house after school and they blast My Chemical Romance at top volume and eat junk food until her mom comes home, and then they eat at the table like Alex imagines a real family does. So really, the least Alex can do is eat lunch with Maria’s other friends, who she’s definitely been neglecting in his favor, lately. It doesn’t matter that he doesn’t know how to take Rosa and her narrow-eyed glares, or Liz and her blunt honesty and wide smiles.

As they approach, Rosa glances up from her lunch tray wearing her usual dark eyeliner and sneer, all but daring anyone else to sit down at the table, and Alex feels his own rebellious spirit rise at the challenge. But as soon as the older girl spots Maria, her face is totally transformed, a genuine, wide smile replacing the scowl in such a way that she’s barely recognizable. Alex blinks in surprise as Maria tugs at a lock of the older girl’s hair and slides onto the bench next to her.

“Where you been, DeLuca?” Rosa asks, sliding something wrapped in a tortilla toward Maria on a napkin. “I should refuse to share my lunch with you until you ‘fess up to ditching me for a guy.” She looks pointedly at Alex, though he’s pretty sure there’s no actual malice in the expression. Still, his grip shifts awkwardly on the strap of his backpack, and he has to force himself not to snap something back defensively. It’s habit, at this point, to step on the people who are trying to do the same to him — but Maria wouldn’t have insisted they come over here if she thought they’d have a problem with him, and Alex isn’t so caught up in his own head that he can’t realize he’s not exactly giving anyone a fair chance, lately.

Liz snorts, and elbows her sister. “Yeah, you’re so nice — I can’t imagine why she’d want to find different friends,” she quips, smiling sunnily up at Alex. “Ignore Rosa,” she tells him, nodding to the empty spot on the bench beside her. “She’s just jealous because you got Mama DeLuca’s ribs the other night while we had to fend for ourselves at home.” He’s never noticed how sunny Liz’s smile is, or how easy it is to return, but he does this time.

“Fair,” Alex replies, lifting his chin. “Missing out on Mimi’s cooking is a pretty good reason to be pissed.” He doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t have a witty retort or a sarcastic quip at the ready, but Liz just nods emphatically, like she hadn’t expected anything else.

“Right? Papa’s a great cook, but we end up eating at the diner more often than anything else.” She shakes her head in distaste, and gestures at the seat next to her again, this time more firmly. “Maria says you’re into music, and I’m like, desperately in need of some new recommendations. Everything Rosa gives me is depressing.”

“Ai! Ungrateful brat,” Rosa growls at her sister, and tosses a wadded up napkin at her face. “It’s not my fault you’ve got shit taste in music. I’ve tried to educate you.” Liz makes a face and pitches the napkin back across the table, and Alex blinks at the affectionate teasing. He and his brothers certainly never interact like that -- but then again, he’s pretty sure his brothers share their father’s beliefs that Alex is shaming them all by existing.

“Alex, come on,” Maria prompts impatiently, even as she grabs the napkin out of midair before it strikes Liz’s forehead a second time. Rosa complains, but Maria is unaffected as she looks up at Alex and orders him to, “Sit down.” She’s already pulling her paper-bag lunch from her backpack and laughing at Rosa’s muttered comments about the jackass in her Spanish class, clearly expecting Alex to join in. Maria’s been his closest friend for years, and maybe his only one since Kyle Valenti realized that being a bully gained him more popularity than being friends with ‘the gay kid,’ and he loves her — but Maria’s never felt awkward or uncomfortable in a social situation in her life. In her world, there’s no such thing as self-consciousness. She says what’s on her mind, plows into every situation with confidence and that little tilt of her head, and somehow comes out on top of everything.

Alex has never been that lucky, but that day, when Liz Ortecho hands him one of Arturo Ortecho’s famous tamales and begins quizzing him on his knowledge of her favorite bands while Rosa interjects with disparaging comments about his choices and insists he try some of her recommendations, the shifting earth beneath his feet seems just a little steadier. He doesn’t understand it, and doesn’t try to, but Alex leaves the cafeteria that day certain that the tiny family he’s been building for himself has expanded by two.

June, 2008:

Alex climbs the stairs to the roof above the Crashdown slowly, unsure of the situation he’s about to enter. The text he got from Maria had been brief, ordering him to get there with no real explanation, but he can read between the lines pretty well, considering the circumstances. It’s been less than forty-eight hours since Maria called him, her voice breathy with suppressed sobs, and told him about the car accident and the fact that their tiny, patchwork family was down a founding member. He’s been to the Ortecho apartment twice, but Liz hadn’t wanted to see anyone -- in her usual fashion, she’d ignored her own feelings in favor of focusing on her father, on helping in the diner, in making funeral arrangements, and when asked, she’d insisted she was fine. Alex knows better, and so does Maria, but they’d let her get away with it.

Tonight, though, feels different.

The humid summer air breaks over his face as soon as Alex opens the door to the roof, and he has to stop for a moment as memories hit him at the sight of their familiar hang-out. Over there, under the sign, is where Rosa’d given him his first joint and laughed as he inhaled and promptly choked on the smoke. To his left, near the brick barrier at the edge of the rooftop, is where Maria had insisted he close his eyes and let her do his eyeliner, just to see what it would look like. They’d spent nights on the roof in sleeping bags when Alex didn’t want to go home, looking up at the stars and talking about anything and everything, from boys to disappointments to absent parents, and there’s a moment in which Alex isn’t sure that he can do this. He wants to be there for Liz, and for Maria, who’d loved Rosa like her own sister, but his own grief is heavy in his chest, and he doesn’t know if he can figure out how to hide it enough to support them

He was stupid to have worried. As soon as he’s out in the open, Maria catches sight of him and drags him over to the cement blocks that hold the sign up where they’ve most often congregated. Liz is lying out on the top of the roof, wearing a pair of sweatpants and an old Third Eye Blind t-shirt that he knows belonged to Rosa. She’s staring straight up at the sky, and doesn’t so much as look in Alex’s direction, even when he stops at her side to look down at her. She’s pale, and her eyes are red-rimmed, but overall she looks much the same as she ever has -- which seems wrong, somehow. The world is completely different without Rosa in it, they’re all different without her, and it seems like their appearances should reflect the monumental internal shift. But Liz, like Alex and Maria, looks the same as always.

��Hi,” Liz says quietly, and pushes herself up into a sitting position. Alex flops down beside her and wraps an arm around her shoulders without saying anything, pulling her into his chest for a proper hug before she can speak again. For a startled minute, she says nothing -- just freezes under the affection, and Alex nearly pulls back. Maria catches his eye over Liz’s shoulder, grief making her look older than the eighteen years she’d so recently celebrated, and shakes her head, encouraging him to hold on. She’s right, as usual -- it only takes another second for Liz to turn into him and hide her face, her fingers knotting in the thin cotton of his t-shirt.

“Sorry for ignoring you when you came over, earlier,” she says to his chest. “I just -- I don’t --” Liz’s voice breaks, and she stops trying to explain in favor of swallowing down the sob Alex can hear rising in her throat.

His heart aches, and his own eyes burn as she finally gives into the inevitable. Tears soak through the fabric of Alex’s shirt, and small, quiet sobs shake Liz’s slender frame. Alex glances helplessly at Maria before bending and pressing a chaste kiss to the crown of Liz’s head, hugging her tightly all the while. “I understood,” he promises, and holds out an arm for Maria to join the hug on Liz’s other side. The other young woman comes easily, moisture glistening on her cheeks, and they keep Liz safely engulfed in the warmth of two people who love her, who miss Rosa nearly as much as she does. Alex knows that he wished for something like this, when his mom left, and he hopes that he can offer the kind of comfort to Liz that no one was there to give him back then.

“No,” Maria says, long moments and an indeterminable amount of tears later. She sniffs and wipes away the thin lines of melted mascara on her cheeks before pulling away from the cocoon they’d formed around Liz. “This is not what Rosa would want from us, guys. This isn’t how she did things. When she was sad, she didn’t sit around and cry, and if she could see us now, she’d be telling us exactly how pathetic we are.”

Alex readjusts his grip on Liz so they can both watch as Maria moves gracefully across the roof to the short, brick wall that frames the space. Before a question even forms in Alex’s mind, Maria bends down and pulls one of the bricks out of place with the growl of stone on stone. Liz huffs, and when Alex glances down, he sees that she’s smiling sadly as the hiding place is revealed. “You know what we did, the last time your mom took off, Liz? While you were with Kyle, pretending you were fine?” Maria pulls a baggy from the gap the loose brick left, and smirks as she waves it at them to show the two, poorly-rolled joints inside.

“Of course you know where she kept the good stuff,” Liz says with a roll of overbright eyes, and pats Alex’s chest gently before pulling away to join Maria by the wall. “She never let me touch that, not unless it was a really special occasion. She said she didn’t want me to make her mistakes. That I was supposed to be better.”

Her shoulders slump, a bit, and Alex takes that as his cue to join them and insinuate himself in the middle. He drops an arm over each of their shoulders as Maria fishes the joints from the baggy and lights them with a matchbook that had apparently also been stowed behind the loose brick. “Rosa and her hiding places,” Liz finishes with a bemused shake of her head, sadness creeping back into her voice. This time, it’s the sort of grief that’s almost fond, with the promise of one day being able to think of her sister without dissolving into tears or anger with her poor choices, and Alex is proud of Liz for moving forward, for taking that step even though he knows it hurts.

“But if we’re trying to channel our inner Rosa, we need music, too,” Liz says, surprising both of her friends. She’s been silent for most of the last few days, aside from the sobs she’d fought so hard to stifle, but Alex is selfishly relieved she’s coming back to herself. There’s nothing more awful than a still and silent Liz Ortecho, not when she’s meant to be one of the most dynamic people in whatever room she enters. He wouldn’t recognize her without that inner fire that makes her so special, and seeing a bit of it sparkle in her eyes -- a little subdued, but definitely there -- makes it easier to believe that they’re all going to be okay.

A half an hour later finds them all high, with the joint between Maria’s fingers burning low, potent smoke curling from the ends and rising up into the night. At some point, someone had crawled through Liz’s bedroom window and grabbed her boombox, and the Black Crowes were crooning Mrs. Potter’s Lullaby for the fourth or fifth time in a row, because, according to Liz, “I can’t cry during this song. I can’t. Rosa’d never forgive me if I ruined it like that.”

So instead of crying, the three of them dance, hands thrown carelessly in the air and bodies twisting around, Liz’s hair flying around and smacking Alex in the face when he gets too close with his purposefully spastic movements. They’re all graceless with the influence of pot and the sudden lightness of spirit that comes with good music and good friends after escaping, if only temporarily, from beneath a cloud of grief. Alex knows that tomorrow, when they’re all dressed up in their funeral black, standing in front of Rosa’s closed casket, this will all be just a fond memory -- there will be more tears, more fighting, more horrible accusations tossed at the Ortechos by members of the town. They’ll be back to drowning in their grief, and Liz will return to raging against her sister for doing something as stupid as driving under the influence and leaving her alone in the world.

And of course, Alex doesn’t realize yet that this will be the last time he gets to spend any real time with Liz, that he’s lost her almost as completely as he’s lost Rosa, thanks to alien interference and his own bad decisions -- but for that night, Alex allows himself to inhale from the joint in Maria’s hand and lets the music and his friends’ hysterically-tinged laughter carry him away from reality.

March, 2017:

It’s Maria who shows up in Germany after Alex is injured.

He’s been better at keeping in touch with her than others from Roswell, but it’s still been at least four months since they’ve even exchanged a text. He saw her on his last, disastrous trip home to Roswell, but only for an hour before he couldn’t resist Michael Guerin’s unintentional siren’s call and wound up spending the next three days sweaty and sated in the single-bed of his trailer. In retrospect, there’s a good chance Alex wouldn’t have fucked everything up between them quite so spectacularly if he’d just stayed with Maria -- and maybe, he wouldn’t feel guilty now for neglecting their friendship, when she’d clearly dropped everything to fly halfway across the world to be with him when he needed a friend. Alex doubts he could be that forgiving in her position.

But he should know better, Alex thinks. Maria DeLuca is a one-woman army and always has been, and she’s never given him a reason to doubt her before. She and her mother have been Alex’s family since his own began to realize he was never going to fall in line with them -- and no matter what previous experiences have taught Alex, no matter how many people abandon him or walk away, Maria always shows up when he needs her.

Despite knowing all of this, it still catches Alex by surprise when he wakes up in the hospital bed to find dark fingers entwined with his own eerily pale digits. The nurses have told him at least once a day that his emergency contacts have been notified of both his condition and his location, but Alex’s drug-fogged brain hadn’t yet managed to connect that information with Maria. He remembers writing her name on the enlistment form all those years ago, since the only thing he can imagine worse than being injured in the line of duty is waking up to find Jesse Manes standing over him while he’s weak and vulnerable, but it had never even occurred to him that Maria would actually come when she got that call. Not when he knows damn well that she’s never set foot on a plane in her life, and that she’s got her own life to live thousands of miles away. It’s more than he would ever expected of her -- and yet.

For a moment, Alex wonders if the doctor messed up the dosage of his meds. Maybe that soft, familiar presence and the comforting grip on his hand is a hallucination? He blinks slowly, once, twice, and lifts his gaze from the sparkling rings at her knuckles to find her face, and inhales sharply around the nasal cannula when he realizes that this is real, that Maria really is sitting in a hospital room in Zurich with him, and Alex is utterly overwhelmed with relief as the feeling of warmth and support that suffuses him from just that one look.

There are tear-tracks on Maria’s cheeks, glistening under the fluorescent hospital lighting, and her usual curls are matted down in places, a sure sign that she’s just stepped off a plane, but Alex thinks she’s never looked better. It’s not the first time he’s woken up; he’d heard about his condition from the doctor two days prior, and he’s been trying to deal with it all on his own. There’s a long road ahead of him -- even after he’s permitted to leave this hospital, he’ll just be going to another Stateside for healing and therapy, and he’s heard from at least three medical professionals that everything will be a little bit easier with a support system. Until now, he’s just laughed scornfully, thinking of the way his so-called family has treated him, and the fact that the only person he’s ever felt genuinely, completely safe with is likely long-gone, wanting nothing to do with Alex after the way he left things during his last trip to Roswell.

But having Maria on his side has always been more than enough, and this is no exception. Already, his new reality is feels just a little less oppressive, and he can breathe without wondering if the next inhalation would be what sent him into another round of panic. He grips her fingers tightly and gives his best attempt at a smile, though it’s ruined when he winces at the tug of the IV in the back of his hand.

“Hi,” he manages, frustrated by the ache in his throat that stops him from speaking above a whisper. The doctors assure him it’s just a temporary effect of intubation, but Alex is getting pretty damn tired of it. It’s bad enough that he can’t even get out of bed to piss -- it’d be nice to have full control of at least one of his faculties.

Maria’s laugh is a short, nearly soundless thing. “Hi,” she returns, and the fingers around his hand tighten briefly. “You know, this isn’t how I imagined the next time I saw you.” The exhaustion in her voice is obvious, and Alex has to ignore the niggle of guilt at being the reason for it. “I was going to read you the riot act for that disappearing act you pulled, last time you were home, and I was going to make you feel so bad about not calling me for months that you felt like you had to pay for the pizza and beer while we caught up.”

“Can’t say it’s how I wanted it to go, either,” he tells her frankly, rolling his head to search for a clock along the wall. It’s 0300, and even with the time difference between Zurich and Roswell, Maria’s had a long damn day. “And you can still yell at me, if you want.” Alex knows that he deserves it -- and as long as it keeps Maria there, talking to him, he doesn’t care. The last couple of days have been hard, not just because of his physical condition, but because he’s been alone. He’s gotten used to having the guys in his squad around him twenty-four/seven, and has never liked the feeling of isolation. Laid up in the hospital alone with overly professional doctors and nurses with only his spiralling thoughts to keep him company is a recipe for disaster, one that’s been staved off by Maria’s appearance. So, yeah. If she wants to rip him a new one, he’ll sit there and take it.

Her answering chuckle is humorless. “If I’m going to yell at you now, it’s going to be because you scared me to death, this time.” There’s a crack in the words, and Alex wants to close his eyes as he catches sight of the tears sliding down Maria’s cheeks. “You could have died, Alex. The doctor I talked to told me at least twice how lucky you were to be found so quickly, and that all you lost was --”

“Please don’t,” Alex says frantically, cutting her off. He’s squeezing her fingers and looking up, over her head, both to avoid watching as she cries and to hide his own reaction to her words. He’s still not ready to address the elephant in the room; everything he’s been feeling has been firmly shoved down and bottled up in his chest to be dealt with when he’s somewhere safe to fall apart -- but Maria’s been his safe place for long years of his life, and her presence is enough to make the wall between himself and his emotions feels pretty damn flimsy. He’s too used to trusting her with everything, too used to the comfort and calm she brings to his life, even after months with no contact.

Part of him wants to tell her, to let his fears and horror pour out onto her sturdy shoulder -- but first, he knows he’d have to say the words. He’d have to admit that he hasn’t yet been able to muster the courage to lift the sterile, white blanket to look at the space where one of his feet should be. He’d have to say aloud that he can still feel something that’s no longer attached to his body. Fuck, Alex would have to tell his best friend, one of the few people left that Alex loves, that he’d crawled to safety after the explosion knocked out his humvee, and left three others behind to die. The very idea of it is enough to make him tremble, and Alex has to swallow down a wave of nausea that would likely bring a nurse and all manner of distraction. That might have been a good thing, if he didn’t think Maria would be forced to leave the room.

“Hey,” Maria says softly, drawing his attention back to her. “It’s okay, Alex. I’m not going to make you talk about anything you’re not ready for.”

There’s a moment of silence, save the steady beeping of the medical equipment. Maria’s watching him, her eyes glassy and unfocused in a way that means she’s trying to get a read on him. He’s called it her ‘psychic face’ before, and followed it up with a teasing laugh, but it’s true that such an expression usually leads to Maria attempting to convince him to talk about something. But tonight, she only smiles again and stands up from her chair. Alex can’t help the instinctive rush of panic; the monitors on his heart beep faster and louder, showcasing his fear in an embarrassingly obvious fashion, but he can’t help it. There’s no reason to think Maria’s come all this way just to leave after a few minutes, but Alex’s desperation to avoid being alone overrides his common sense.

Gentle fingers push hair back from his forehead, and Alex takes a long, slow breath. “Just let me move my chair a little closer,” Maria tells him, and does exactly that. Fingers resume stroking through his hair soothingly, and the relief that floods his chest is downright shameful. “Hm,” Maria muses, after a few peaceful moments in which Alex manages to relax a bit. “I should tell you how lucky you are that I love you, because airplanes? So not my style, Manes. I don’t know how you do it -- screaming kids, couples hooking up in the tiny bathroom, people dumping drinks in your lap -- I’m pretty sure that if there really is a hell, we’re all going to be strapped in to tiny airplane seats surrounded by idiots for all eternity.”

She shudders in mock horror, and Alex manages a tired smile. The morphine pump activated at some point in the last few minutes, and while the pain he’s feeling has decreased, he also feels a little floaty and detached from reality. It’s not entirely a good feeling; reality is grounding. It’s Maria’s smile and her teasing voice, the warmth of her hand on his. It’s the solid feeling of the bed beneath him and the knowledge that he’s no longer in a war zone, that he’s as safe as anyone can be in a hospital. But in his mind, in that hazy place the drugs drag him to, he’s still trapped in a humvee about to explode, with the stricken faces of fallen friends staring him down.

“You get used to it,” Alex says aloud, shifting a little under the blankets to make himself more comfortable -- and to remind himself exactly where he is. “Tell me about Roswell. How’s Mimi?” It’s a blatant subject change, but a safe one. Maria launches into tales from home easily, growing more animated as she talks about the latest idiocies of Racist Hank and his cohorts, and the people who come into the bar. There’s a strange quality to her voice when she tells a story about Mimi and a psychic reading gone wrong, something almost melancholy, but it’s gone before Alex can ask. Through all of it, Maria holds Alex’s hand, and never once looks like she’d consider letting go. It’s an additional, all-important anchor, one Alex appreciates more than he’ll ever be able to explain, just like her embellished stories from home.

“But then, Michael Guerin -- you remember him from high school, right? He grew up kind’ve hot, but the attitude is a total turn-off. But anyway, he comes in swinging, and takes Hank down before Long can even blink. It was actually awesome, but if you tell anyone I said that I’ll deny it.”

Until that point, Alex has been half listening, half letting Maria’s familiar voice lull him to sleep, but the mention of Michael has him wide awake and on edge again in a moment. He blames it on the pain meds, but Alex has been thinking of him since he woke up in the hospital. Maria means safety to Alex; she’s a sanctuary in a world full of people who seem to hate him for no reason. But Michael is the one person who has ever physically protected Alex -- the only one who he’s been able to be wholly vulnerable with and could trust to watch his back. And in this hospital with all of his weaknesses put on display for anyone who cares to look through the window, Alex can’t help but wish Guerin was here to offer that refuge again. It’s undeniably selfish, considering how he’d left things between them, but Alex can’t help himself.

“Should I be leaving to let you get some sleep?” Maria asks, thankfully interrupting Alex’s thoughts. “It’s almost five in the morning, and I’m talking your ear off about bar brawls while you’re supposed to be healing.”

Alex shakes his head quickly, and regrets it when the room spins. “No,” he answers, as firmly as he can manage. “I might fall asleep on you, but -- if you can stay, I’d really appreciate it.” Maria’s always been too good at figuring him out. He imagines he can see her reading his mind, flipping through the anxiety and loneliness there like she would the pages of a magazine. “It helps,” he admits a moment later, because there’s no point in trying to act tough, now. “To have you here. I’ve been going crazy all day, and I just --”

“You don’t need to explain, Alex. What else are friends for?” Maria interrupts, and slings her legs over one arm of her chair to recline back against the other in a show of exaggerated comfort. “I’ve slept in worse places than this, believe me. Would you believe Chad made me go camping? I spend the whole damn night with a giant rock digging into my kidney. This is practically the Taj Mahal in comparison.” From her new position, Maria reaches out to recapture Alex’s hand in silent assurance, and once again, he finds himself wondering what he did to deserve a friend like Maria DeLuca.

“Love you,” she yawns, as a passing nurse pops her head in to turn off the lights. Her eyes are already closing, her voice quiet as she begins to sink into sleep.

The simple declaration makes Alex’s eyes sting, and he’s grateful Maria isn’t looking at him while he pulls himself together. It takes a moment, fighting against the lump in his throat and the incessant pull of medication-induced exhaustion, but finally he answers: “Love you, too.”

February, 2019:

Liz is the first one to catch sight of him when he walks into the Crashdown, and Alex grins at her gobsmacked look as she takes in the leather jacket tossed casually over the discounted band t-shirt he picked up from the local department store on a whim. He’s still wearing well-tailored jeans and his standard-issue boots, but Alex knows that this one little wardrobe change makes a big difference in his overall appearance. The obvious, and then the more subtle -- the way he feels just a little more at home in his own skin, and the confidence it gives him to stand just a little bit taller when he’s comfortable. There’s still a lot of work to do on that front; Alex isn’t sure he’s ever going to be utterly content in his own body now that he’s missing a piece of it, but reclaiming his identity from the military is, in his mind, a damn good place to start.

“I miss the eyeliner,” Liz tells him, head cocked thoughtfully to one side, as he weaves his way through the crowd around the counter. If her smile is thinner than it used to be, Alex understands. She’s mourning Max Evans even as she celebrates Rosa’s resurrection, and all anyone else can do is be there to support her -- and maybe offer a little assistance in creating a fake identity for an eighteen year old girl who’s been legally declared deceased for the last decade. “Otherwise, I totally approve of this 2000s flashback, as long as it’s sticking around.” Liz stretches up on her toes to hug him across the counter, and Alex returns the affection.

“I’m not officially at the end of my enlistment, so I’m stuck with regulation-issue for at least the next month, most of the time,” Alex replies with a one-shouldered shrug. In all honesty, he’s still not entirely sure that he’s ready to lose the uniform and the anonymity that comes from blending in with the crowd completely. It’s nice to step out of the Air Force Captain role once in a while and remind himself that he’s still human, but the thought of losing that fall-back permanently, especially considering everything else he’s lost lately, is overwhelming. And, quite frankly, terrifying. “But I’m off duty today, so I thought I’d --”

“See if you could remember how to dress yourself without Uncle Sam’s help?” Liz supplies with a wink, and slides a milkshake across the counter in front of an empty barstool. It’s obviously an invitation to sit and stay a while. They’re supposed to be spending some time together -- it’s one of the several ways Alex has begun insinuating himself in Liz’s life and attempting to stop her from working herself to death while she tries to hide from her grief and confusion. It’s harder than it sounds; already, Alex is forty-five minutes late to meet Liz, and he knows she was supposed to be off the clock at least an hour ago. It’s not unexpected, of course. When Liz can’t run from her problems, she hides from them in work instead, whether it be creating serum after serum to bring Max back in her makeshift lab, or working shifts in the diner like she’d always claimed to hate in high school.

Alex claims the empty barstool in front of the counter and sips at the milkshake, warming a little when he realizes it’s the same flavor he’s always ordered and enjoyed. “Hey, it’s harder than it sounds,” he argues half-heartedly. He and Liz are good friends, and they understand each others’ hurts more than other people can, but he knows she doesn’t get why playing with his fashion choices is so important to him, or why it’s so hard to face the upcoming end of his contract with the Air Force when he’s never really loved it, anyway. “And since I haven’t seen you without a lab coat or the antennae --” Alex looks pointedly at the headband in question, one eyebrow quirked. “-- in at least a week and a half, I don’t think you get to judge me.”

Liz makes a face at him and sweeps the antenna off her head with one hand, exasperation obvious in the short, jerky movement. “I’d argue, but considering I don’t remember the last time I put on a pair of jeans, I think you’re probably right.” She leans forward over the counter, propping her elbows on the surface and looks up at Alex, giving him an excellent view of the dark circles beneath her eyes, visible even through the meticulously-applied layers of concealer. To make matters worse, there’s a strain in the lines of her mouth and forehead that speak of long nights full of science and data collection rather than rest, and Alex finds himself wishing, once again, that any of the aliens in Roswell were capable of thinking before they act. Max Evans has a lot to answer for if they ever manage to resurrect him, and Alex will be waiting to make sure he knows it. Liz deserves better than this halflife of cautious hope and grief. She deserves more than frantic research and the stress of looking after her newly-resurrected sister. Liz should have the happiness that Max Evans promised by loving her, and Alex could punch the guy for thinking that sacrificing himself for Rosa would do anything but hurt.

“Kyle and Rosa went to Albuquerque for the weekend,” Liz tells him, and Alex may not be a psychic like Maria, or an alien like Isobel, but he knows her well enough to see the signs of guilty relief in her expression. “She hasn’t been sleeping well, and he thought getting her out of town and away from everything for a couple of days might help.” At first, Rosa had clung to Liz like a child to its mother. She wouldn’t even look at Kyle, who’d wanted nothing more than a chance at a relationship with the sister he never thought he’d get to have. But Rosa Ortecho is as resilient as her sister -- maybe more, if Alex is honest with himself -- and she’s taken the new world she’s been brought into mostly in stride. Nightmares from the trauma of her death aren’t surprising, nor is the fact that she’s been clinging to people she knew and trusted before her death. But it’s taken an obvious toll on Liz, both emotional and physical, and Alex is relieved that Kyle’s managed to convince Rosa that he can be trusted. For all their sakes.

“That’s great,” Alex enthuses. “What are you going to do with your weekend, then?” It’s not likely that Liz has plans outside of working or going to sit with Max’s body in that damned cave, but he can’t help but hope. The two of them are supposed to get dinner together tonight; maybe he can convince her to come stay at the cabin where he can keep an eye on her. Or knock her out until she gets a decent night’s rest -- Alex won’t pretend he hasn’t considered asking Kyle for a sedative in the past few months.

Three months has never seemed like a long period of time, except maybe during basic training, but it feels like years have passed since Liz lost Max -- since Alex lost Michael and Maria in one fell swoop. The two of them have drawn closer than ever in that time, both hurting from losses, but Alex has gotten better. He’s not mad at Maria or Michael any more, not really, and he’s starting to piece together a life. One that will remain after Alex can’t call himself an airman anymore, whether he’s got Guerin or Maria in his life or not.

Liz isn’t moving forward, and Alex doesn’t know how to help. It’s like an integral piece of her soul is locked in the pod with Max, and another piece of her is tightly bound to Rosa and her new life -- and the remaining parts just aren’t enough to keep her sane or happy.

“Nothing special. I haven’t gotten to visit the cave in a few days, and I need new samples, so I’ll probably spend most of my time in the lab.” Liz takes off her apron and drapes it over a hook and signals something to her father, who’s poking his head through the order window and speaking rapidly in Spanish that Alex can’t keep up with. He catches the equivalent of, ‘get some rest!’ and ‘no more shifts for you this weekend, mija,’ which tells him that he’s not the only one noticing that Liz has been spending entirely too much time punched in lately. That, at least, is gratifying.

“Come on, we can talk upstairs while I get dressed -- in real clothes,” she tells Alex with an ironic chuckle, and leads the way to the staircase that takes them to the small apartment the Ortechos have lived in since their arrival in Roswell. While they walk, Alex reminds himself that he’s not here to get frustrated with Liz’s coping mechanisms, or to scold her for being so careless with herself. He’s here to be a friend -- and no matter how much he wants to shake her, he needs to be patient.

The apartment above the Crashdown hasn’t changed at all since they were in high school. Arturo has clearly kept everything exactly the same for his daughter -- and now daughters -- and Alex can’t decide if that’s a positive thing or not. It explains a lot about Liz’s refusal to move forward after a tragedy, though; evidently, it’s genetic. The furniture is in the same configuration in the living room, the same Mexican-inspired decor on the walls, and walking into Liz and Rosa’s room is like taking a trip in the TARDIS to the late 90s. Rosa’s clothes are still lying all around the room, her band posters taped up on the wall in nearly the same spots, and Liz still has the same books on the bookshelf in the corner.

“I think I’m actually going to call Michael into work with me this weekend, if I can convince him,” Liz says from her position in front of the closet, wearing nothing but a bra and a pair of leggings as she studies her options. “He got arrested again last night, so he clearly needs to put his brain to work before he gets into trouble that Isobel can’t bail him out of.”

The words are matter-of-fact, and Alex appreciates that Liz has stopped trying to avoid mentioning Michael or Maria to him at all. Dancing around people so integral to her life, and once so involved in his own, is awkward and uncomfortable, and though it still causes a little pang of hurt in his chest to hear either of their names, Alex would much rather hear about how they’re doing. They may all be avoiding each other for now, but he’s never going to stop seeing either of them as family -- what kind of man would that make him? Do one thing to hurt him, make one mistake, and he’s done caring? He’s not his father, damn it. He’s just needed some time to heal, to let go of the hurt and anger that came with what felt like betrayal, and he’s had it. The fact that Liz recognizes that makes him love her all the more.

“He’s missing Max, too,” Alex guesses quietly, leaning heavily on one side of the doorway to Liz’s room. “I know they’re not as close as they used to be, but they’re still family. And Guerin’s never quite figured out how to hurt without hurting anyone who gets too close.” It’s a habit Alex has, too -- which is why he and Michael always managed to leave each other cut and bleeding when things went bad. Their sharp edges didn’t match up; they sliced into each other instead.

Liz’s bottom lip catches between her teeth, and she worries at it for a beat too long. Alex frowns at her, waiting for an explanation. He knows that Guerin’s reverted to old habits in the last three months; it’s impossible to go outside without hearing rumors of his latest brawls and assault charges. Alex assumes he hasn’t been sleeping around, since Maria would likely castrate him if he cheated on her, but Michael in a self-destructive spiral isn’t new, as much as it makes Alex ache to witness. “Liz, Max was his brother in every way that mattered. Of course he’s going to act out. Isobel’s doing exactly the same thing - she’s just being quieter about it.”

There’s a moment of silence, then Liz shakes her head. “I don’t think it’s just that,” she admits. “He’s been worse, lately. He’s been avoiding Isobel, and ignoring my phone calls, even when he knows they’re about the serum. Isolating himself.” They’re quiet again as Liz finally chooses a red shirt and pulls it over her head, then turns to sit down at the edge of the bed to look back at Alex with indecision written all over her face. She’s trying to decide whether or not to tell him something, clearly, and he’s not pleased.

“Just tell me, Liz,” he orders, a shadow of his command voice lingering in the tone he uses. “I thought we were done pretending that I’m not in love with Michael Guerin -- you knew when you started that I’d want to hear the rest of it, so just tell me.”

Liz sighs, her shoulders slumping obviously. “I was worried about him when he didn’t answer his phone this afternoon,” she begins, picking at the hem of her shirt. “So I went to see Maria, since they were together. I thought she’d be able to help, or at least tell me where to find him.” Were together? Alex’s heartbeat picks up, and he hates himself a little for it. Even if Michael and Maria are done, it doesn’t mean that Guerin wants to be with Alex -- or even that Alex wants to be with him. There’s so much shit between them now that he doesn’t know that they could ever work it all out, and he’s loathe to give up all of the forward momentum he’s built on a whim.

“When I got there, Maria was three-quarters of the way into a bottle of tequila and all I could get out of her was that she and Michael are over,” Liz continues, and glances up at him, the inside of her cheek caught between her teeth. “Between that and the fact that it looks like Mama DeLuca’s going to have to go into an assisted living facility --”

“What?” Alex demands sharply, cutting Liz off. “What do you mean, Mimi’s going to a facility? Since when? Why?” He doesn’t know how to feel about the end of Michael’s latest relationship, and it doesn’t matter, anyway. Not unless Guerin comes around and actually wants to talk to him, and Alex doesn’t see that happening any time soon. But the idea of the only woman who’d ever shown any real motherly affection for Alex being put in a facility is far more pressing. He can’t stand the idea, not after everything Mimi’s done for him. What the hell is Maria thinking?

Liz presses her lips together, and pats the space beside her on the mattress. Alex doesn’t move immediately, but when it’s clear she doesn’t plan on explaining further until he sits, he obeys the unspoken order and joins her, shoulder-to-shoulder. Without any care to personal space, Liz reaches over and grabs his hand, their palms cupped together like kindergartners entering a classroom for the first time, and she sighs.

“Mimi wandered off a couple of days ago. Sheriff Valenti had to send people out to find her, and she made it pretty clear she didn’t think Maria could handle looking after her alone, anymore.” Weary sadness rippled in Liz’s dark eyes, and Alex knows she can see the same emotion echoed back in his own. Mimi DeLuca had been a surrogate mother to both of them as they navigated the treacheries of high school, and neither of them had done much to help Maria support her, especially lately. Instead, Alex had closed Maria out of his life, gone out of his way to avoid her in town and ignore her messages under the guise of moving on -- and now, with this slap of reality, he’s overwhelmed with guilt for his actions. Maria deserves better from him, just as he deserves better from her, and hiding from each other isn’t going to solve anything.

“Put on your shoes,” he says finally, sucking in a breath and bracing himself for what he knows they’ve got to do. “I know what we’re doing tonight.”

They go to Maria’s, of course. Liz is the one to pick her up of the Pony’s floor and get her into a set of pajamas, but Alex doesn’t hide in the background, either. It’s awkward, at first; Maria is clearly stunned to see him, and more than a little uncomfortable, and Alex is still upset and uncertain. Liz doesn’t let the awkwardness get far, though -- she just grabs a bottle of whiskey from Maria’s stash in the kitchen and uncorks it, then hands it off to Alex. It’s a time-honored tradition of drinking away their sorrows, and he doesn’t hesitate to imbibe.

They don’t talk about Michael much, that night. They drink instead, and squeeze together in Maria’s queen-sized bed, shoulder-to-shoulder, all three of them, like they did the night they danced to forget their grief after Rosa’s death. Liz drinks enough to admit she’s not sure they can bring Max back, and she hates him a little for sacrificing himself for Rosa, for Liz, without even talking to her first. Maria sobs her way through the story of Mimi’s sudden decline, leaning heavily against Liz’s side as she speaks of a mother who no longer recognizes her, of frantic searches and angry neighbors who’ve found the woman ranting about science fiction movies in their yards at three in the morning. She talks about the financial strain, about the second mortgage she’s taken out on the bar, and Alex manages to ignore the haze of bitterness in his mind when he looks at her enough to kiss her cheek and promise that it’s going to be okay, somehow, and that she’s not alone.

Even under the influence of half a bottle of whiskey and a couple of tequila shots, Alex keeps his own hurts to himself. This isn’t the time to bring up Michael or the tangled mess his father has created for all of them, and he doesn’t think either he or Maria is ready to discuss the betrayal lingering between them. But the night proves to Alex that he will, eventually, be able to forgive Maria -- that she’s still one of the most important people in his world, even when she makes mistakes.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers into the darkness after Liz has fallen asleep on the other side of the bed. Maria’s laying on the other woman’s chest, one arm across her waist, while her back is pressed into Alex’s side. “I know it doesn’t change anything. I know how much I hurt you, and how angry you are --”

“I’m not angry,” Alex insists, just a little too fast. For a moment, he’s reminded of that day on the playground the first time they met, when Maria knew how he felt even better than Alex himself -- one would think that after all of this time and a thousand other examples of her psychic talents, he’d believe her, but it still comes as a shock, every time.

Maria sighs, a quiet hiccup escaping her lips before she rolls on her side to face him. They’re sharing the same pillow; there’s not a lot of room on the bed, and even if there was, Alex knows they would’ve all gravitated together. Comfort is tradition in their friendship, and even if it’s a bit unorthodox, he hopes it’ll never change.

“I’m too drunk to do this right,” Maria says clearly. “But I don’t know if I can do it sober, so.” Her nose wrinkles, and she makes a face as she pushes herself into a sitting position. Alex follows suit, careful not to put too much pressure on the place where his leg joins with the prosthetic. It’s a habit, these days, carefully cultivated in the years since he lost part of himself -- just as avoiding this subject has become habit. There’s still a huge part of him that still wants to run, to mumble an apology and scramble out the door before he loses his mind, but this is Maria, and he needs to stay.

“Michael is in love with you,” she says, speaking slowly and over-annunciating the words like she always does when she’s had too much to drink. “He was the whole time. I knew it, but I didn’t want to admit it, because he’s --” Maria’s eyes close, and she swallows heavily. Alex wants to tell her to stop, wants to shove his fingers in his ears and hum until he can’t hear her anymore, but he’s not five years old, and he knows they need to do this if they ever want to move on. But fuck, it sucks. “He showed up for me, you know? Every time I needed him. And I thought that maybe, if he was the real thing, it would make up for how much I hurt you.”

Alex looks up sharply at that, and has to swallow the angry response that bubbles up at the selfishness in Maria’s explanation. He bites his lower lip to keep silent, and Maria looks away, down at the bedspread her restless fingers are plucking at.

“No one ever wants to believe that I can actually feel what they’re feeling,” she continues, and there’s virtually no slur to her words as she pushes forward. “Even you and Liz, and you’ve known me for most of my life. But I can. I do. And Michael never loved me, Alex. Not for a minute, even when I was so desperate to believe he did. I tried to ignore it. And I did -- but it’s pretty hard to forget that I heard him calling your name while we were in bed together.” Her smile is weak, full of self-deprecation and bitterness. “I guess it’s only fair, because in the end, he hurt me just as much as I hurt you. Karma’s a bitch, huh?”

And what the hell is he supposed to say to that? Alex hates the small voice in the back of his head that’s whispering yes, it is fair, because he knows it’s not. This isn’t the Biblical era, and an eye for an eye leaves the whole world blind. He wouldn’t wish heartbreak on his worst enemy, let alone his best friend, no matter what she’s done -- especially not when he knows that her world is collapsing around her shoulders as Mimi’s health continues to decline.

“I’m in love with Michael,” he says finally, when the silence in the room has gone on a moment too long, and he can see Maria beginning to fidget under his scrutiny. “I’ve been in love with him for ten years, and I don’t see that changing, but God, Maria -- I love you too, you know. And yeah, maybe I’m still pissed, and hurt, and everything else you’re seeing in my aura or … however you always know, but you’re my best friend. I want you in my life. I’m always going to want you in my life.” He reaches across the distance between them and takes her hand, just as she’d done for him so many years ago when Alex didn’t know what it was to have someone solidly in his corner.

“This isn’t going to destroy us,” he promises earnestly, and finds a smile for her, though he knows the expression is loaded with everything he’s not saying. It’s going to take time to mend the broken trust between them, and Alex knows that it’ll be nearly as hard for Maria to watch him with Michael as it was in the reverse if things go that way, but for once, he allows himself to be an optimist. It’s going to work out because he won’t settle for anything less.

Maria nods slowly, and squeezes his hand in return. “No,” she agrees, determination settling over her tired, pinched features. “It won’t.”

Alex has never been more grateful that Maria doesn’t take ‘no’ for an answer. If she says that this won’t break them, she’ll move heaven and earth to make it true. He’s seen her do it before, when she was determined to convince Rosa to go to rehab, or when she showed up in a German hospital after her very first plane ride despite her aviophobia. She’s gone to bat for Liz when the townspeople were after her to make her pay for Rosa’s apparently poor choices, and Alex has seen Maria go toe-to-toe with men twice her size to protect the women in her bar, armed with nothing but her sharp tongue and scathing commentary. Maria DeLuca doesn’t let anything stand in her way, not fear nor insecurity nor hurt, and Alex knows that he can at least trust her to stick around while he figures out how to forgive her.

It’s not perfect, but it’s enough.

October, 2021:

“Guerin, you have to stop,” Alex says with a reluctant sigh, though the insistent warmth spreading through his body tells him to give into Michael’s promises that they have plenty of time to waste. They’re in their cabin, Alex fully dressed aside for the buttons that Michael undid to get at his neck, and Michael wearing nothing but a towel and a pout at Alex’s gentle rejection. “We’ve got to be at Max’s in ten minutes, and I’d rather not spend the first half an hour we’re there getting mocked for the hickey you’re trying to leave on my neck.”

He tugs at one damp curl teasingly, then steps out of Michael’s reach to rebutton his flannel properly. When he glances in the mirror over the bathroom sink, his face is flushed and his hair tousled, but the happiness in his eyes and demeanor makes it hard to complain. Some days, it’s hard to believe that Alex can be this content in his life; he’s got Michael, a shared home in the cabin Jim Valenti left him. He’s got a job designing cyber security code that’s fulfilling and leaves him with time for his music and his family, and Jesse Manes and the rest of his sons are miles back in Alex’s rearview mirror. It’s a good life, and Alex is damned lucky to have it.

“Or . . . we could just skip this whole thing,” Michael drawls, and the heated stare he levels at Alex from his lounge against the doorframe is almost enough to make him consider it. But Liz had been adamant that everyone needed to be there tonight when she texted the invite, and Alex hasn’t seen her or the rest of his friends in a couple of days, anyway. In the last two years, since the worst of the alien drama was put behind them, he’s been careful to maintain all of his relationships, and worked to make them stronger. Ditching out on Liz without any notice isn’t the kind of thing a good friend would do, no matter how tempting the drops of water rolling down Michael’s chest might be.

“Get dressed, cowboy,” Alex says with a laugh, and shoves a pair of jeans from the top of the laundry hamper into Michael’s outstretched hands. “I want to know what Liz’s news is, and I want to make sure Isobel hasn’t gone totally overboard ordering stuff for the spare room -- I still can’t believe you told her to get whatever she wanted.”

Michael snorts, but unfolds the jeans and drags them up over his lean legs. “Have you met Isobel?” he asks, the question called over his shoulder as Alex moves around him and into the bedroom to finish making himself presentable. “She would’ve ordered whatever she wanted no matter what I told her. We’ll go through the stuff when it gets here, use what we like, and send the rest back -- believe me. Max’s been doing it for years; otherwise, his whole house would be full of shitty lace curtains and ‘tasteful corals.’”

The disgusted face he makes is impossible not to laugh at, so Alex does, and shakes his head ruefully. “I guess telling Isobel the truth never crossed your mind?”

It’s Michael’s turn to laugh at him, apparently. “No, never,” he snorts. “Why don’t you give it a shot and let me know how it works out?” He pauses, then adds, “But if she asks, I know nothing about it and love everything she orders, because she’s way scarier than you.” Alex catches the wink in the mirror and groans, but knows Michael’s right. Isobel doesn’t take ‘no’ for an answer on anything, a fact that’s only gotten harder to ignore since she and Maria stopped pretending to hate each other a few months back and started making out, instead.

Michael joins Alex in the bedroom to get a shirt, one of his ridiculously patterned ones that he’ll leave unbuttoned halfway down, Alex is sure. Over the last six months of officially dating Michael Guerin, he’s found that fashion choices are one of the battles he’s going to have to let go.

“As for what Liz’s news -- come on. You really don’t know?”

“You mean you do?” It doesn’t seem likely, since Guerin had gotten the same text Alex had, but there’s a definite gleam of I know something you don’t in his boyfriend’s eyes.

“It’s pretty hard to keep secrets in a family full of aliens with psychic powers,” Michael points out, looking far too smug for Alex’s comfort. “But that’s all I’m gonna say -- Liz’ll kill me if I ruin it for her.”

Somehow, Alex finds himself being hustled out of the house and into the truck, like he hadn’t been the one trying to get Michael moving just a few minutes prior. He lets it happen, though, only stopping to grab the bag of store-bought rolls and chips he’d offered to bring to dinner. The others all take turns cooking for their weekly get-togethers, but it was decided early on, long before he and Michael managed to work things out between them, that Alex was a hazard in the kitchen and needed to be saved from himself. (Boil one pot of water long enough to set fire to the bottom of it and no one will ever let you forget it!) So instead of offering his limited culinary skills, Alex brings what he can, and tries to make up for the lack in other ways -- not that anyone ever really lets him try.

“It’s about damn time!” Maria’s on Max’s porch by herself when they pull up, grinning broadly in welcome, and Alex can’t help but smile back as he takes in the way her flowing skirt and jacket fly in the breeze. Time hasn’t softened Maria DeLuca, but it’s sanded down some of the sharper edges that developed in the months after Mimi’s hospitalization, especially after Max and Liz managed to combine science and superhuman abilities to stabilize her dementia.

Time, conversation, and sheer refusal to give up on each other have also mended the rift between Alex and Maria. It was as Alex guessed when they talked about Michael that first time; they both wanted to forgive each other enough that walking away was never an option. When Michael and Alex finally got back together after a year and a half of dancing around each other, Maria was the first one Alex called -- and the sliver of uncertainty that remained between them disappeared. Maria is family, just like Liz and Rosa and all the others, and he’s sure now that nothing will ever change that.

“Good to see you too, DeLuca,” Michael snarks, squeezing her shoulder as he passes to get in the door. He won’t admit it, but Alex knows he’s excited to see Max. After nearly two and a half years of grief, fear, and frantic research and experimentation, the three months that he’s been back in Roswell are negligible. Michael, Isobel, and Liz, especially, still look at the other man like he’s about to disappear sometimes, and it took a particularly stern intervention to get them to allow him to leave their sight.

Alex stays on the porch with Maria for another moment, and presses an innocent kiss to the top of her head. “We still on to go see your mom tomorrow afternoon?” he asks, referring to the plans they’d made several days ago, before Alex had been forced to go out of town on business. Liz, Rosa, and Alex all take turns visiting Mimi with Maria as often as possible; she’s been like a mother to all of them for all of these years, and no one has any intention of forgetting that because she’s ill.

Maria nods once, her smile growing a little more serious. “If you’re still up for it, yeah. I told her today, but --” she shrugs, and Alex gives her a quick side-hug when his mind fills in the blanks. Mimi’s condition may be stable now, but the damage couldn’t be reversed. No matter what she knows today, there’s a slim chance she’ll remember tomorrow.

Everyone gathers in the enormous living room of Max’s house, carrying plates heavily laden with barbecue and cook out fixings. Liz and Max have obviously spent the better part of the day slaving over a hot grill, because there’s enough food to feed a small army. Alex settles himself on one end of the couch and Michael joins him, squishing in close so that Isobel and Maria can fit, as well. Liz perches on the arm of Max’s chair across the room, her dancer’s legs tangling with his longer ones, and Alex stares at them, trying to figure out what they’re hiding. There’s a suspiciously large smile on Liz’s face, even as Michael and Kyle tease her about the amount of time she’s been spending at Max’s place, and there’s a happily astonished expression on Max’s face that doesn’t disappear, even as the party wears on.

“Figured it out yet?” Michael asks in a whisper, leaning close.

Alex shakes his head, even though he thinks he’s got a pretty good guess. He’ll let Liz tell them in her own time -- he wouldn’t want his moment ruined by anyone else, after all.

He doesn’t have to wait long for confirmation of his theory, though. After everyone’s finished eating and the plates are piled in the sink, Max clears his throat and stands, looking around at all of them like he can’t quite believe what he’s about to say. Michael and Isobel grin back at him, obviously in on whatever secret he’s about to divulge, and Alex raises an eyebrow at Liz, who just winks.

“I’m not one for speeches,” Max says, pointedly ignoring Michael’s teasing scoff. “But after what we’ve all been through, I think it’s important that I say how incredibly lucky I feel to have all of you in my life. I literally wouldn’t be here without each and every one of you, and --” Max glances at Liz, who sidles up to him and links their hands, happiness permeating every line of her body. “We all know that life is short.” Dark, serious eyes rest on Rosa for a moment, and Alex’s breath catches in his throat at the stark reminder. Guerin’s hand slides into his, and Alex squeezes back, forcing himself to turn his attention to Max again. “I’m not going to waste any of the extra time I’ve been given on fighting with the people I love, or keeping secrets. So, in the spirit of honesty --”

“And sharing good news!” Liz adds, elbowing Max.

“ -- Liz and I want you guys to be the first to know that we’re getting married.”

Alex gets lost for a moment in the ensuing flood of cheers and congratulations. Michael is gone, up and slapping his brother on the back and saying something about how he told Max that the ring he picked out was good enough. In the next instant, Maria is standing too, and hauling Alex up by the hands to drag him across the floor to Liz. She’s laughing, open-mouthed and incandescent with true happiness, and she lets the two of them enclose her in a hug without a single noise of complaint. Rosa throws herself at Liz’s back, her hair hanging down in her sister’s face, and it’s the perfect fucking moment. The future looms on the horizon, and none of them know what’s to come, but he’s holding Maria’s hand and hugging Liz, and watching Rosa celebrate with her sister after a decade spent mourning her.

The four of them found each other when they most needed it. They’d started this all together, grown closer through trauma and tragedy, and the tiny, make-shift family they started had grown by leaps and bounds. None of them are the scared, lonely children they once were, and Alex is overwhelmed by the realization that they’ve made it through the worst. All that’s left for them to do is be happy.

“I can’t believe you took Michael ring shopping with you, Max Evans!” Isobel’s disapproving voice floats over the din of the small crowd, making Liz and Maria dissolve into a sing-song chorus of, “Max is in tro-uble!” like they’re still eight years old on the playground. Michael ducks out of swatting range as his sister comes for him, but Maria jumps in front so that her girlfriend can smack the back of his head gently. Guerin, of course, makes a show out of being wounded, and looks to Alex for sympathy.

Alex throws his head back and laughs, and allows himself to be carried away in the joy of the moment.

#crashfest #my fic #friendship fic #malex fic #[happy endings and fluff oops]#vignette series #13k

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cursewoodrecap · 4 years

Text

Session 11: Cirque Macabre

On the road from Mornheim to Bad Herzfeld, we can’t even have a day off in peace.

Good Morning Baaaaaaaltimornheim~

We wake up in Mornheim along with the Fairgolds, having crammed all six of us into one room at the overcrowded inn. We see behind the scenes into Flynn’s hair care routine. What, you think he looks this dashing naturally? He has product for his beard and moustache.

Flynn is sicker than he was after Valeria gave him the Pat Pat of health yesterday, but better than he was when he came in. He had advantage to his roll today, for Reasons the DM won’t disclose. He’s putting up a brave front, and is definitely putting some extra effort into looking dashing and healthy. Somebody get him his fancy hat!

Meanwhile, having spent the whole night in close quarters with Valeria, Clem, and Fiona, Shoshana wonders: why is every woman she meets improbably jacked? What even is her life.

The plan, just to recap: We’re heading to a place called Bad Herzfeld, because we’ve heard it’s overflowing with the rare herbs and plants we need as spell components for the ritual we found in the manor house, which should purify the water supply of Mornheim. (Somebody’s been sticking their Taint in the water. HURR HURR)

We take a moment to question why, if it was a mage working in the von Mornheim manor, are the ingredients of the spell so druidic, and the spell written in archaic Old Valdian like a druid might speak? Druids live in the woods making friends with badgers; this was a bona fide wizardy laboratory. Shoshana rolls to see if she can figure it out and nat 1′s. What do you mean this isn’t what all wizard shit looks like?

Valeria also rolls to figure it out and rolls...not much better. Maybe there was a druid squatting in an old wizard lab? Who knows. Magics is magics.

We have a thin, unfulfilling soup for breakfast, and then split up to prepare for travel.

Valeria immediately heads off over by the city gates. She tells the DM that her activity will need ten minutes, and that “you know what I’m doing.” The rest of us have to wait in suspense.

Shoshana stops in to double-check on the doctor; she’s realized that it’s pretty likely that any corpses will get up just like Sokolov did, and she’s pretty sure the locals have figured that out but needs to double check. Turns out that yes, the Doctor has been burning the bodies. Cremation isn’t common in Valdia; if you live in a forest, funeral pyres tend to set the trees on fire. But you do what you gotta in a zombie apocalypse.

Clem organizes her kit and sharpens her sword, then takes a little while to read through the Sturmhearst journals she picked up from the book merchant. There’s an article about research into “replacing lost limbs with synthetic troll blood made of fungus.” Given what we’ve just found out about fungus people... thaaaaat could be bad.

Gral interrupts her reading to awkwardly ask Clem about when he used his magic lutestrings to wooble her. “How did it feel? I’d like to make sure I don’t kill someone by accident.

Clem thinks about the experience, which did come with a chunk of psychic damage. “It wasn’t painful, or necessarily unpleasant?” she says, thoughtfully. “But it was unpleasant in its unexpected nature. Like when the surface of a pond starts rippling – but you’re made of air instead of water – I dunno if I’m describing it right? But it was like that.”

Gral sits down next to her. “After acquiring the strings, my best test subject was self. You get used to it quickly. Maybe it’s not good to get used to it?”

Clem nods. “Yeah, it’s probably bad to get used to it.” She shows the journals to Gral to get his opinion, since the orcs have had skirmishes with fungal zombies before. The paper details the formula derived from a strange new fungus, but doesn’t really give any details about the fungus itself, so Gral doesn’t have much to go on.

As they flip through the journals, they also find a paper about fungal infection and potential treatments, by a Professor Alma Ulmus. Useful for Flynn, perhaps?

Clem med checks well and grasps the concepts pretty well. The paper details several techniques for dealing with fungal infection. There are some theories about ways to selectively target the infection with necrotic damage and certain medicines/poisons. Unfortunately, the techniques tend to come with hefty risks to the wellness of the patient, since you’re basically injecting a toxin that is mildly more deadly to the fungus than to the patient. It’s chemo, basically.

(We go down a conversational rabbit hole re: magic cancer and magical chemotherapy techniques, and have to get wrangled back on track.)

None of the treatments are outlined in enough detail for us to use. Mostly it’s an update about ongoing research initiatives, in case anyone wants to give the good Professor some grant funding.

(”The results aren’t peer reviewed yet - Who am I kidding, Sturmhearst doesn’t peer review.” “They used to, back in the good old days!” says our ghost scalpel.)

Valeria has, meanwhile, found a decent spot to perform her holy ritual, and lets the other players know that “we” are coming to meet up with the group. The first player to realize what’s going on squeals a little.

Valeria, in fact, has cast Seek Steed. (Yes, the PHB calls it Find Steed, but alliteration is important!)

Something is walking alongside Valeria, pressing its large reptilian head to her chest affectionately. It’s similar to the creatures we’ve seen pulling Lucinius’ cart but it’s thinner, taller, more fine-boned. It is a faintly glowing lilac color, with silver reaching up to almost its knee on one foreleg and its ankle on the opposite hind leg, with a silvery crescent on forehead.

“Oh my god, it’s a crocodile,” Shoshana’s player gasps.

“It’s an ALLIGATOR,” Valeria’s player returns indignantly.

Valeria pets the cool dinosaur behind its skull and tells it its name is Aethis. (It’s named for the aether from which it arose, being a celestial mount.) Rack, in his divine kindness, also had Aethis show up with a very fancy saddle. It has a rose embossed on it, and as Valeria names the creature, “Aethis” appears embossed on the saddle in Draco-Aquilian. The reptilian mount is faintly glowing purple.

Its pronouns are they/them, because it is a celestial being of divine energy that has taken mortal form for Valeria’s convenience; what even is a gender.

The rest of us stare. “...Where did you get that.”

“Rack gave them to me!”

“Just, like, now? While I was in the bathroom?”

“There’s a ritual. It’s a paladin thing.”

Shoshana awkwardly waves at the lizard. Gral obligingly holds out his hand for sniffs. Aethis sniffs him. Heartened, Shoshana cautiously moves forward for awkward pats on the head, which Aethis accepts.Shosha awkwardly pats. Aethis accepts the pats. Gral(‘s player) is like I PLAY WITH THE PUPPY even though it’s an Alligator Horse.

(The locals are like, what the fuck is that thing??? Like it’s obviously a paladin’s celestial steed, but……it’s THAT THING. Former-Kyr Crabber is not around to miss his long-gone mount.)

We don’t see Aubrey around – she was on watch last night, so she’s probably sleeping. Skulbjor the troll is watching the gate.

“Hi, folks. Oh, lookit dat. You didn’t come in with that,” he says, appreciating Aethis. And hey! More folks came in last night - the one that doesn’t talk and the one that talks too much. So where ya headed? Back into the necropolis for another mission?”

We tell him all about our mission for spell components and fungus problems.

“Alright, well, don’t got time to process all that right now,” he says slowly as his troll-brain tries to catch up. “Let’s say good luck and I’ll tell Lady Aubrey you went to get some medicines. All right, best of luck to ya. Stay away from that grove what’s north of the road, the watchman heard some things movin’ around in there. I like your new chomper.”

Skulborg proceeds to scritch our new chomper with one big troll finger. “Aww, ’s a good chomper.” Aethis accepts the scritches.

We leave the dreary town of Mornheim. And as we leave its twisted trees and grim orchards and rows of graves, we feel the sun on your face, and it feels a little like we’ve been holding our breath in all this time. The sun feels warmer and we all feel a bit more alive, having left that place.

According to our best map, some of the roads go through Dead Towns, which people generally go around. Traveling in the Cursewood is a lot of back roads these days. You take the main road where you can, but some places are just impassable now – disrepair, or spooky monsters, or sometimes a town just vanishes and people wisely decide not to go where it used to be.

The result of this is that all of us have maps, and none of them match. Being a cartographer is a very stressful job right now, okay? Luckily, a good Survival check keeps us on the trail. We’re going for a town called Three Oaks Junction, which is more of a permanent camp than a proper town. We can get a better map there. It’s basically a three-way crossroads of some major roads; a travel stop that has a large enough occupancy of tents and carts that it can function as a safe stopover and makeshift town. We’re about two days out from there.

How long do we have until the troll moot? Fiona starts signing, and Flynn translates. Trolls don’t exactly subscribe to the mail, so they’re very slow to get the word out and get together. It’s less of meeting and more like a short-term living situation for times of crisis. They rarely last very long – trolls are solitary because they eat a lot of food. A large population of trolls in one place needs a LOT of food, and a big gathering is only done in extreme situations where there’s access to large food stockpile. There hasn’t been one in at least 200 years; mostly they’re just talked about in old songs. So we have plenty of time, but we want to shut it down long before any momentum starts up. If we can stop trolls from hearing about the moot in the first place, that might be the best for everyone.

(As we travel, we have our usual silly arguments, this time about Aethis: Celestial war mounts do not need to eat, although war gators are obligate carnivores. So Aethis can eat meat if they want to, right? In that case, what happens to that food?

“HOW IT POOP, DM? WRITE THE LORE!”

“It’s not a real gator, it doesn’t poop!”

“It waits until it’s unsummoned, and then it poops ALL AT ONCE in the celestial plane.”

“Dude? Dude? Curse you.”

“Was that a....lore dump?”

“CUUUUUURSES.”

I am told to please excise this from the record. I absolutely do not follow instructions.)

We’re boppin along and making decent time. As we travel, Valeria rolls good insight and sees through Flynn’s stiff upper lip, and insists on pushing another Lay On Hands of curing disease into him. Again, it clears his symptoms but doesn’t end the disease.

It’s late afternoon when we see a decently sized cottage by the side of road. It looks pleasant! There’s flower boxes in the windows, blooming picturesquely. There’s a cart next to it, loaded up with furniture and stuff, and a sign nailed to a tree nearby that says “MOVING SALE! CURIOS, ODDS AND ENDS. COOKIES PROVIDED WITH PURCHASE.”

Valeria is intrigued by cookies. Clem always likes a curio.

There’s a young girl running about and an old lady in a rocking chair, out in front of the house. The young girl is carrying things from the house to the cart. There’s a little table next to the old woman’s chair with a tray of cookies, as well as a surprisingly sturdy looking box. The old lady waves. “Oh, hello!”

We come say hi. “Yes, I’m moving in with my daughter and my granddaughter here! Say hi, honey.” The little girl waves hello and continues to help pack the cart. “My daughter and her family say it’s not safe out here alone for old woman. I resisted as long as I could. I can handle myself, but just last week as Rosie here was coming to visit, a werewolf almost attacked me! So I figured it was finally time to pack up and go.”

(Yes, we picked up on the Little Red Riding Hood joke.)

Clem immediately insight checks the little old lady, and nat 20′s. She is being perfectly trustworthy. Actually, she’s playing up the helpless little old lady act a little too hard. Clem thinks that she might have killed that werewolf herself. She’s got no intent to harm us, except maybe rip us off a little.

Clem shrugs. We ARE a group of 6 well armed strangers and a war gator. She’s got every right to be a bit on guard and play up the friendliness. She’s legit.

“Most of the things I’m not bringing with me are inside. Go take a look around! I traveled quite a lot in my youth, and I still have a few souvenirs!”

Valeria ties Aethis outside – in sight but not right up on the old lady, who is not spooked by Aethis at all. (Valeria is slightly offended that everyone is a little spooked by them. They’re just a gator! Gators are everywhere, it’s not like they’re a big deal!)

We enter the charming cottage and, well...that’s not what we expected. It’s absolutely stuffed, and it’s stuffed with COOL-ASS STUFF. There’s paintings and trophies lining the walls. That’s definitely a giant’s axe hanging there, carved with ancient runes. There’s a sultry oil painting taking up most of one wall, a picture of a young woman halfway out a window, turning to face the camera, smiling wickedly and clutching a gem as she prepares to rappel out the window. There’s big ol’ treasure-chest-lookin’ chests and boxes everywhere. There’s an old Aquilian war banner, hanging as a decorative tapestry. Gral spots some Orcish artifacts.

Who IS this woman?! Maybe she’s the protagonist of our spinoff prequel.

The first thing Valeria does, of course, is cast Detect Magic to see what glows. A beat, and then she just starts pointin’ everywhere. EVERY-DANG-THING is magic.

Gral ponders sagely. “I’m starting to think she may have overplayed the helpless old lady thing.”

Let’s investigate for stuff we wanna buy! Gral would like a projectile weapon, or perhaps some armor? Or a nice brooch. He finds a pack of 5 crossbow bolts inscribed with some sort of rune.

The old lady sticks her head in to see how we’re doing. “Ah yes, can I help you find anything? I know it’s a bit of a mess, I’m in the middle of moving.” She spots Gral holding the bolts. “Oh, those are Bolts of Heart Seeking! They’re quite nice, I think. They’ll run you at least a hundred. I was asked to get rid of most of the deadlier souvenirs…” Gral buys them. 5 bolts, each granting advantage on the attack and an expanded crit range.

Shoshana looks for something protective, given her terrible caster AC.

“I’m sorry, dearie, I sold my old armor set a while back,” the old lady tells her, but she rustles in a drawer and pulls out a little bag. “This was big help back in the old days whenever I got cornered by some-”

“Grandma-” interjects the granddaughter, warningly.

“Well! Anyway, this will make anything that breathes sneeze and cough! 100 gold, and don’t say where you got it if you use it for anything illegal.” It’s 3 doses of Dust of Sneezing and Choking. Shoshana considers, but passes.

Clem doesn’t have much money after splurging on her new armor. She’s gonna save it.

Valeria looks for - well, she wants books, also anything that matches the Order of the Rose aesthetic, since she just found Kyr Marius’ old dagger. She doesn’t find anything recent - maybe some stuff decorated with floral designs, but nothing that would have been lost in the Crusade at the Summer Palace. She does find a shrine to the trickster god Guile in one corner of the room, and more importantly, a collection of rare books! None are magical, sadly.

Valeria picks up a book about an expedition to an ancient Aquilian flying city. “Ah yes, that one was a comp copy! It all happened maybe 40 years ago?” the elderly lady chirps.

“Oh, did you write this?” Valeria inquires politely.

“Oh, goodness, no, I didn’t write it – I’m in it!” Sure enough, the cover has a lovely picture of a dashing lady-adventurer who looks suspiciously similar to the one in the painting.

We ask her name. “Jolene. Or Josephine. Johanna, sometimes. I think I’m Jolene in the book. Yes, those were good old days…”

She holds out a rod with a grappling hook on both ends. “This old girl’s seen a lot of the world with me. I picked it up from that nice artificer in Galway. It produces ropes! You push this button to launch the grapple, see-” she says, demonstrating, “-and this one to wind it in.”

“It’s a clever bit of machinery,” Valeria admits.

“Oh, he mostly cheated with magic.” We pass on the Rod of Ropes, but it’s caught Flynn’s eye. After a short bickering session of increasingly rapid hand-signs, he buys it.

Gral asks about all orc stuff. “That was all a gift from orc leader some years back.”

“Oh? Who was it?”

“Ven’shek was the last name. His people mostly called him One-Ear?”

Gral’s jaw drops, like an indie band kid who found out their grandma knew Les Paul personally. “YOU KNEW ONE-EAR?!”

Gral’s history roll gives him some context: One-Ear was a bard, and he was a pretty big deal. He had two ears; he was just deaf in one after rocking out too hard at one point. He’d fought an evil necromancer who was trying to animate mummies of the honored dead, leading a group of bards to put a stop to that nonsense. He unleashed a sonic blast so powerful it buried the necromancer in an avalanche, but also blew out his left eardrum.

The old lady seems unfazed. “Yeah. He had two ears! He kept wanting us to ask why, but I wasn’t gonna fall for that.” Hanging on the wall is a bona-fide autographed copy of One-Ear’s bard mask, similar to the one Gral wears.

Gral is still Absolutely Gobsmacked. “He was before my time but I’ve always really admired his work!”

“Yes, good times. He wanted my help with retrieving a thing from a-” Her voice drops to a mumble, “-dragon’s hoard.”

We check out a few more items. There’s a perpetually bloodstained sword sitting in the corner, with teeth carved in the hilt, quietly whispering, “feeeeeeeeed” to itself, which we leave well alone. There’s Gloves of Thievery and a Handy Haversack for sale, as well as a small silver raven ornament that Ms. Jolene claims will deliver messages. “Oh, I got that little thing in the flying city! It’s an Aquilian device originally meant to carry messages between their cities. It’ll deliver a spoken message or a letter. If it can’t get there in 24 hours, it’ll come right back to you. I was sort of hoping to use it to correspond with old friends...”

Awww. We won’t take it away from her, then. We WILL pool some cash for that Haversack, though. “We had good times together. I’m a bit sad to see it go,” the old lady admits, patting it fondly. Sure enough, the small black-and-grey bag is there in her painting, on the hip of the sexy thief.

That’s about all the cash we want to spend, but the sun’s starting to go down and this seems about as safe a place to camp as any. Old Woman Jolene doesn’t mind.

Flynn takes the opportunity to play with his new Rod of Ropes. “Fiona, hold my hat! I’m gonna try it out!”

Fiona signs to Shoshana, which with a bit of insight she figures out means, “Can you cast Feather Fall?”

“Nope.”

Fiona signs something to Flynn.

“Thank you, Shoshana! I’ll be sure to shout if I need your help!”

He does some acrobatics off the roof of the house, but he hasn’t had the practice with this thing yet. “Shoshana, now would be a good time to-” He falls flat on his face.

Fiona does her weird cough-laugh at him as he dusts off with an overdramatic scowl.

That’s our adventure at Jolene’s Lifetime-of-Adventuring Surplus. Jolene’s Stolen Goods Boutique: She takes them just because she caaaaaaan.

Given what we know about Ms. Jolene, we all keep an eye on our purses that night. Luckily, it seems like she’s trying to downsize.

In the morning, Flynn is not doin’ great, coughing hard and looking pale. Valeria Lays on Hands again, negating his symptoms. But we’re gonna need a permanent solution eventually.

Shoshana rolls a mediocre medicine check. The illness is from the inhaled spores from the farmer’s son, and it’s mostly respiratory. Maybe Shosha could brew a tea that could help with some of the symptoms, but she doesn’t have a supply of the right herbs, and Valeria’s got the symptoms covered for now. Ah well, it was worth a try.

We get on the road and roll into Three Oaks Junction later that day. There are indeed oaks there, significantly more than thee. Like we expected, it’s more of a big camp than a normal town – there are a few permanent structures, like a sheriff’s depot, but most folks here are living out of tents. There’s a big marketplace where many traveling merchants and local farmers come to trade, sort of a perpetual bazaar.

Valeria & Clem work together to write up a letter to Ambassador Khoshev with the warning about the Red Hand’s assassination plans. They give Clem’s name and rank for veracity and slap Valeria’s noble seal on it to give it priority. Asking around, they’re told there’s actually a courier service with a permanent shop over by the founder’s statue. Bonus, not only can they get a message to the Ambassador, they can also get a message over to Holzog, where Clem knows there are messengers who could get a message back to her “caravan,” which she hasn’t mentioned to the other three before.

Clem and Val head over to Red Raven Couriers to send their letter. Clem also sends parcel of gems to her caravan, the ones that we found in the Mornheim manor, about 100g total. The halfling clerk asks if the packages have any valuables we’d like to insure. Clem insights him, he seems like a trustworthy professional instead of someone who’ll go through her mail for loot. “The package for Holzog is valuable, I’d rather delay it if it will get extra security. The message is the opposite - it’s urgent, and there is no material value.”

The package of gems will go on the next well-guarded stagecoach, and the message will go immediately on a relay of fast horses. Valeria makes sure to tip extra well. Red Raven Couriers: Leave at sunup, there by nightfall.™ (Disclaimer: this is not a guarantee of one night service. We do not travel by night. What, do you think we’re crazy?)

Their job done, they take a look at the statue of Three Oaks Junction’s founder. It’s a drow! There’s two captions, a rather short one in Valdian and a much longer one in the Drow language.

Valeria reads off the Valdian: THREE OAKS // TOWN FOUNDER.

Clem can see the Drow caption has the elf’s full name: “Born to Clan Shenkel on a Rainy Night Under the Shelter of Three Oak Trees.” Ah, that’s where the town name comes from!

Clem’s pretty chuffed! “I’m very pleased to see people who aren’t averse to drow in this area! There’s even a statue, and not a burning heap where the statue used to be!”

The folks at the courier are happy to share the founding story. Three Oaks was a skilled wagon repair-person, and set up a wagon repair station at a good high-traffic spot. It became a local fixture, she eventually settled down and built a real shop, and that was the start of the town!

Clem knows: If drow know anything, it’s how to fix wagons. And care for horses. Good for this Three Oaks for making an opportunity of it!

Towering over the town, a distance from the main thoroughfares, is a large black and white striped tent. There’s a circus, scheduled for tonight! Valeria gets excited about the possibility of Night Circus.

Clem has never seen a circus. Gral has never seen a Valdian circus. Valeria has seen many traveling shows. Shoshana’s seen a couple significantly less fancy traveling shows. Flynn and Fiona are excited to go to the circus. Everybody’s like, yeah, let’s have a night off, let’s have fun!

We worry that Gral, as a performer, might be That Guy: “Their technique was horrible, frankly, I’ve seen better-”

We’re hype! Let’s get CIRCUS SNACKS. There’s spiced nuts and funnel cakes. Clem gets a funnel cake. Shoshana is deeply disappointed to learn that cotton candy has not been invented yet.

Valeria goes over to get some spiced nuts. The nuts stand is run by a red dragonborn, obviously named Bophades. (He tells us he has brothers, Joe and Ligma.)

Valeria doesn’t know how much to pay the guy, and we meme about it. How Much Could Nuts Cost, Clementine? One Gold? Ah, nobles.

A few performers are starting to walk around to work the crowd. Everything in the circus is black and white, like a fun theme. All the performers have pristine white facepaint.

We realize we should probably not bring Large Greatswords into a theater, so we stash Clem’s sword, Valeria’s tridents, and the Eyegis with Aethis. Hey, Aethis has the Eyegis, Valeria basically has a large lizard camera drone to look through! Cool. Valeria buys Aethis a live chicken as a snack, even though celestial steeds don’t need to eat. “We’ll come back soon, I love you~!”

Shoshana’s anxiety cloak is freaking out, but, like, it freaked out around the cool old lady too. Does this thing have a snooze button?

We all find our seats, passing around snacks and jostling with the crowd. Outside the sky is darkening, and Dancing Lights come up all around the tent, swirling and casting shadows. A ringmaster in a black-and-white jester’s motley comes out. The lights all focus around him,

“Hello, everyone,” he calls to the crows, in the practiced cadence of a seasoned performer. “We live in troubled times. This wood is not a very fine place. So tonight, in this tent, open your minds and your hearts and join me as I take you to a kingdom far away - yet as close as you allow it to be! First, walk with me as we approach the land of my king. We must approach the borders, guarded as they are!”

Braziers burst into flame all around the perimeter of the tent with a big oooh from the crowd! Jugglers begin tossing batons between them, forming a high arch, which the ringmaster walks under. “Cross the border with me!” he calls. “These woods are dangerous place, but my lord’s marksmen are expert.” Each baton is shot out of the air at the apex of their arch by an arrow! The jugglers catch them expertly, and demonstrate that each arrow has struck the dead center of a target painted on each baton!

Gral murmurs an aside: “I have the memories of every orc performer who ever lived, I’ve seen better, there was this one guy-”

Shoshana dope slaps him. Shut up and enjoy the show, doofus.

After a pause for the audience to applaud the archers, the jester continues. “And now, our master, my king, is building a bridge! A vast river lies before us!” Performers come out, shaking a long blue cloth between them. “But fear not, we will cross it!” A pair of strongmen start heaving around big ol’ beams of wood, while acrobats start making their way across the tops of the whirling beams in an impressive display of balance and coordination. The beams are moved into place, and one strongman lifts ringmaster with one hand up to them. The ringmaster mounts the ‘bridge’ and walks across. “Ladies and gentlemen, the bridge builders!”

There’s another round of applause. Clem and Valeria are enthusiastic. Even Gral is starting to get into it.

“But before we can approach the castle and visit my master’s court –” the jester warns us. We her galloping hooves (or possibly coconut shell) noises. “Ah, yes! Do you hear who’s come to greet us! The knights of the Black and White!” Everyone claps, the ringmaster throws something in the braziers, and the arena fills with smoke. As horses carrying stunt riders circle the big top, we must all make wisdom saves. Valeria is informed she may do so with proficiency. We’re all lucky enough to save, except Flynn.

As the smoke hits Valeria, she realizes – there’s something wrong here. Once tent has filled with smoke from the smoke bombs – it was to set up dramatic entrance, but…the ringmaster’s describing this glorious kingdom where nobody has to fear any death or dismemberment, where the power of his king is absolute. There’s something weird about the smoke. Something weird about the performers and their flickering shadows. She can’t quite place it...

The show has moved along. There’s a knife thrower, a fire breather, and a sword swallower performing now as the “village blacksmith” as the procession “approaches the court”. It’s a whole routine.

Something Is Wrong.

The ringmaster’s patter about this king has become increasingly creepy. Fiona is giving us the side eye. Meanwhile, Flynn and most of audience are slack jawed and enraptured. I mean, it’s a pretty impressive show, but the imagery is getting macabre.

The crowd is no longer applauding after each performance. Everyone is just sitting there, completely entranced. Clem murmurs, “Does this...usually happen at circuses?”

Valeria glances through the Eyegis. The camp outside is perfectly normal, no fires or thieves or anything this might be a distraction from. She cuts back to the here and now.

Right now there’s two guys with halberds, with acrobats dancing on tips, performing as the “castle guards.” Shoshana pokes Flynn, who doesn’t react at all as he stares unblinking at the black-and-white figures. Fiona scoffs - just a poke? Please - and slugs her brother in the stomach. He snaps out of his trance as he gasps for breath, sputtering “WHAT WHY WOULD Y-mmph!” as she slaps a hand over his mouth and shushes him.

Gral hisses, “If we make a scene, they’ll know. Pretend like you’re watching the performance!”

We all perception check. Gral figures it out: the entire time, those dancing lights and braziers have been casting wild, flickering shadows of the rapidly moving acrobats and the people in costume armor But he gets clear look under the acrobats for just one second, and realizes: they’re casting the shadows of skeletons.

These are undead. The king the ringmaster wants us to visit is none other than the Pale King himself.

Clem is very glad she kept her warhammer on her.

There’s maybe 80-100 people in audience. If we act, the civilians might be collateral damage.

The bad guys wouldn’t know us by look. Maybe we pretend to be enraptured like the rest of audience and wait for them to reveal their big plan. That, or we could just rush the guy leading circus.

The ringmaster is narrating entering the castle gates. The smoke started the process, but clearly the performance has something to do with keeping it going. Shoshana’s all for casting Shatter into the center of the ring - maybe a loud enough noise will wake up the audience. Valeria’s not sure.

Gral and Valeria want to wait and see; Clem and Shoshana want to disrupt the performance before they finish enthralling the audience. Valeria’s player flips us a coin. Our answer? Disrupt.

We refocus in on the plot of the show. The audience has been invited into the great hall, and a feast has been laid out for us – there’s a huge table, with acrobats and jugglers doing a routine where they’re tossing around plates and chairs. We have to roll deception, and we do good enough that they don’t notice we’re snapped out of it, but the ringmaster is definitely scanning the crowd for anyone who’s not under yet.

At this point, the macabre stuff has become overt. The “castle servants” are setting plates with skulls and crawling hand bones. It’s Obvious Curse at this point. We agree that this is a really cool, goth circus theme, but we would prefer it to maybe...not end with the whole crowd becoming zombies?

Gral decides to Dispel Magic the smoke. To hell with subtlety, we’re going for disruption. He stands up and strikes an echoing POWER CHORD!!! Rolling well, he dispels the effect of the smoke, shouting, “The show is over!”

As he strikes his lute, a tangible soundwave goes out through the audience. A ripple goes through the smoke, and it starts to fade. The Dancing Lights flicker and come back up. With the spell gone, we can see clearly: the performers are still dressed up, but the acrobats, strongmen, etc. are all visibly rotting or skeletal.

The crowd, suddenly jerked out of the mass charm effect, predictably panics.

The ringmaster turns and looks directly at Gral. In his ringing showman’s voice, he bellows, “GET THEM. THE KING COMMANDS IT.”

Shoshana centers a Shatter on the table full of dancing acrobats, trying to get as many low level undead as she can. Bone shards fly everywhere as all but one of the skeletons explode into bits, with a deafening BOOM that drowns out the circus music. A shame, since this is a dope-ass circus.

(The DM comments: If we’d let it get to end, it would have definitely gotten a bit King in Yellow. We drew a red card at the end of last session, so we get to meet an Avatar of the Curse. This here is the Ringmaster, also known as The Fool.)

Clem, Valeria, and the Fairgolds dash toward the Ringmaster. Valeria has her adamantine wrench. Clem has her warhammer. Fiona has hers, too. Just three super buff ladies with hammers…and Flynn.

“I’ve got an aesthetic, it’s called Swashbuckler? We don’t use hammers!”

“If he used a hammer, he’d be a Squashbuckler.”

“Or a Smashbuckler?”

“That’s alright,” he quips, summoning his pistol, “I’ve got another kind of hammer I can use…”

(”Is it his penis?” asks everyone who has ever seen Dr. Horrible.

“It’s the HAMMER OF THE GUN, it’s not his penis!” sighs the DM.)

Shoshana aims another Shatter on the remaining zombie strongmen and their table, but they have better CON than a bunch of bones, so it doesn’t have quite the dramatic effect. Flynn shoots the Ringmaster with his pistol. As the shot hits home, he drops the pistol and snaps his fingers, a second pistol materializing in his hand. This time the shot goes wild.

The Fool howls, “GET THEM!” and the two strongmen rush at our tanks, picking up chunks of table to wallop our melee fighters with, mumbling “In the name of the king!” in their garbled zombie voices. The Fool begins to rise into the air, which is never a good sign. He points at Shoshana and in an echoing voice demands she KNEEL. She flips him off. She ain’t kneeling for no floaty-ass pale-faced clown!

Gral Banes the strongmen and the acrobat. The zombies are zom-baned. Clem sees them waiting to clobber her with chunks of table and is like “I can take ‘em,” and rushes in, carving a chunk out of the nearest one. The zombies don’t seem to be trying to defend themselves - they’re just balls of rotting meat in between us and the real threat. I mean, they’re swinging broken table legs at us, but they’re whiffing hard. Valeria casts Shield of Faith on herself and Cone of Colds them. One save, one fail. Thanks, Bane! (”I love Bane!” “I love you too, citizens of Gotham!”) The one who failed its save and got Clemmed is bloodied. Fiona, raging, does 35 damage in a single turn and bloodies the other strongman. Her mouth is open like a battle-frenzy scream, but it’s just coming out as a hiss.

Shoshana takes a thrown knife from the last skeleton acrobat, and brushes it off. Then she realizes that unlike the others who charged in, she and Gral are still in the middle of the crowd. A crowd that is freaking the fuck out.

Shoshana promptly takes more damage from getting Crowd Trampled than she has from the actual enemies. (Gral gets buffeted around, too, but at least he stayed standing.)

Hey, did you know that The Fool gets lair actions? Arrows, like the ones that shot down the jugglers’ batons, fly in, targeting Gral, Clem, and Fiona. They even seem to change direction in midair to target him. These are ghost arrows! (Which does make the whole baton trick less impressive in hindsight. Cheaters.)

Shoshana staggers to her feet and throws a Chromatic Orb of acid at the Fool. Flynn’s sword burns with green flames as he brings it down on a strongman zombie. The flame spreads between them and burns at their rotted flesh. One of ‘em nearly smacks Clem, but Gral’s Bane comes to the rescue, and Valeria gets to Sentinel him! She brings the adamantium wrench down on him with two hands. CRONCH.

Strong Boi #2 punches Flynn in the face – or tries. “Ha! My sister punches better than that!”

The zombie is like, “We’re fighting your sister! That’s a compliment!” Or it would, if this was The Road to El Dorado. Mostly it just grunts.

The Fool gestures grandly, and we all must make Charisma saves. Shoshana and Fiona fail and are Baned. (Hey, no fair using our own tactics on us!) Also, he’s calling reinforcements. We hear the hoofbeats of the stunt horsemen as they charge back into the arena. Without the obscuring magic of the smoke, we can clearly see these are skeletal steeds, ridden by terrible, ethereal spectres waving big ol’ cavalry sabers. They are not headless horsemen; they have heads. We vow to change that.

(These are Sword Wraiths, for anyone who’s keeping track. Also, shout out to Skeleton Horse from our last campaign, forever in our hearts.)

Gral Phantasmal Forces one of the strongmen. The zombie hears a terrible crunchin’ noise. In his mind, the nearly destroyed table has come to life! The shards of wood invert inward, and now there’s a big mouth chompin’ at him! He turns around and starts fighting a table. The Ringmaster facepalms.

Clem channels the scalpel ghost and makes an excellent medicine check. Professor Wendell hmms, and points out a weak spot on the one Gral has just targeted. Clem pops the darn thing’s skull like a weird melon. He died, knowing he was getting eaten by a table. RIP.

Valeria tries to charge past the other strongman, but takes a solid hit of opportunity and gets knocked to the ground. She gets back up and returns the favor. The acrobat skeleton - oh, we forgot about that guy - throws more knives! Have a Knife Day, Valeria. (It doinks off her armor harmlessly.) Fiona smacks at the last big fella.

The spectral riders form a second barrier between the tanks and the Fool as the strongmen fall. They throw some spears at Clem and Flynn.

The crowd knocks Shoshana over again. This is how she ends: stepped on by frightened civilians in a puddle of popcorn. You’re all gosh darn lucky she hasn’t gone evil yet.

The DM makes a Secret Roll. It’s a success! Valeria’s the first to hear the result, a thudding of claws on hard-packed dirt, and then we see the crowd parting as Aethis the war gator charges toward us, bringing our weapons. They wanted to help! They did a good job!!! We’d give them scritches but we’re, like, in a fight.

We get hit by more ghost arrows, and then Shoshana drags herself to her feet and twins another Chromatic Orb, shooting lightning at both of the spectral riders, who up close look like elven nobles. She then hides behind a chair, in the vague hope that no one else will stomp on her. Flynn stabs one of the riders with his green-flamed rapier, and the flame flickers between both of them.

The remaining strongboi hits Valeria for a big slam, but no one’s looking at them anymore. The Ringmaster, hovering above, begins to distort his body horribly. He distends his limbs, extending his body to spidery and unnatural proportions, and leers at us all with a manic, wild grin. The melee fighters all make WIS saves. Valeria and Flynn are now Frightened of him. As his lips stretch into an even wider rictus, his head rotates on its neck in a deeply unnatural way and his fingerbones stretch out into slender, vicious claws.

Gral inspires Clem, and Dissonant Whispers the strongman. It instantly drops dead. (”You scared a zombie to death. Metal AF.”) The spectral riders close ranks with their shields, forming a barrier between the melee fighters and the Fool, but Clem and Dr. Wendel are READY TO OPERATE! Clem misses one, but maneuvers on attack 2 to try to trip a skeleton horse. Action Surge! She crits the ghost to death, exploding it into mist, its horse falling apart into an inert pile of bones. Her final attack goes to the other horseman with a Distracting Strike. I mean, she did just pulverize his buddy, that’s pretty distracting.

Valeria is afeared of the Creepy Jester (which is taxonomically distinct from a creepy clown, we are told to note.) She takes the opportunity to Lay On Hands herself. The DM is kinda surprised that paladins don’t have resistance to fear in 5e. OH HI AETHIS!!!! They’ve run up to Valeria with her sword and shield. What a good gator!!!! Valeria grabs the Eyegis, and her AC goes back up.

The lone skeleton acrobat is like why r u guise ignoring me??? and throws a knife at Clem. We continue to ignore it. Fiona charges the ringmaster, Clem continues to duel the remaining rider, and the unforgiving crowd continues to trample Gral and Shoshana.

Clem, Fiona, and Flynn all take hits from the ghost arrows. Fiona shrugs it off, but Flynn’s not looking too hot. Shoshana chugs a healing potion (because of freakin’ CROWD DAMAGE!) and dives behind a tent pillar.

The Fool cackles eerily, and everybody under 10 health must make CON save. He was trying to give us all taint, but everybody affected manages to save. He swipes at Fiona with his Horrible Claws, but she blocks with her hammer.

Gral Dissonant Whispers the remaining rider, who nat-1s. It’s scared bad, and Clem does the honors, catching it with her hammer as it passes by. “AH-AH, YOU ARE NOT DISCHARGED!” cries Dr. Wendell. As it flees, the ghost dissipates, and horse tumbles into a mess of bones, carried forward by its own momentum.

Now it’s Clem’s proper turn, and she’s gonna hit the Fool!!!! But first, Second Wind. Miss one, hit one, MANEUVER! Trip Attack! She knocks him prone!

Valeria rides Aethis to the Fool, then dismounts, and Aethis dashes to get to the acrobat. Valeria brings her wrench down on the Fool. She Smites him good. (He is undead, so smite does a Lot.) He makes a goofy OOF! Sound and begins to wriggle up from the ground, and then she just SLAMS him back down. Flattened. After a hit like that, I almost PITY the Fool.

Look, SOMEONE was gonna make that joke.

The acrobat throws knives at Valeria! It crits, but like, it’s a knife. Valeria doesn’t care. Fiona drops one warhammer and just pins the Fool on the ground, grappling him. Raging, she gets advantage. Pinning him down with one arm, she swings her hammer down with the other. He contorts oddly, moving out of the way of one blow, but gets hit by her second slam.

The ghost arrows are back! They all target Fiona. As the arrows slam into her back, she just grits her teeth and takes it. Barbarians, man. Shoshana’s shot goes wide on the Fool as she snipes from afar. Flynn saves against his Frightened condition and starts escorting the last few crowd members out of the tent.

The Fool tries to contort out of Fiona’s grapple, but she keeps an iron grip on his wriggling limbs. Gral decides to join the melee party and stab with his Psychic Blades, finishing off the avatar of the Pale King. The circle of phantom orc warriors again rushes in as one. As he slices into the Fool with his sickle, the jester’s costume tears like a cloth bag, and a bunch of choking black mist bubbles out and away. Inside, there are only the barest, faintest hints of a skeletal form. His weird painted skull rolls away, a head in a jester’s cap locked in a rictus grin jingling absurdly across the big top.

Aethis swats the skeleton acrobat with its tail. It’s dead now.

The circus is silent. The last vestiges of the strange mist are blowing away. The tent is eerie, dark and cold.

Valeria makes a knowledge!Religion check. With the context that this was a weird Pale King thing, she realizes what was bothering her at the start of performance: she’s never been to a circus or play that didn’t open with an invocation to Guile, the god of trickery, illusion, and the arts.

Shoshana lies on the ground grumpily. Aethis comes over and offers a friendly shoulder to help her up. Shosha is like O__O because she’s looking into a massive faceful of teeth, but gingerly accepts the help up after being nudged and sniffed a bit.

Those ghost arrows were flying in from backstage. Let’s check out backstage! We find some quivers sitting there, but the arrows seem to be inert now that the Fool is dead. There are a few musical instruments in the hands of some deactivated skellies and zoms, collapsed awkwardly to the floor. There’s lots of props, costumes, makeup - all the regular circus stuff, including a tour map of places they’ve been. One more for Valeria’s collection!

We find some high-quality stage makeup, which seems a little magic. It might channel illusion magic particularly well? Gral takes a crack at understanding it. It’s not itself a magic item, but it’s designed as a good conduit for illusion spells. Gral takes it. It has 5 charges of enhancing illusion spells. Valeria takes one of the charges. We find some finely ground crystal, which seems to be what was thrown into the braziers. Valeria takes it.

We also have the creepy elongated skull of the Fool. Clem only wants it because her player used to be our party warlock. Fiona wants to smash it. We COULD bring it to the Cursebreakers, like responsible adults, but we’re all like SMASH IT SMASH IT WOOOOOO

We also find a throne on a litter, under a sheet. Is there something on the throne?

Valeria Detects Magic. There’s a lingering magic clinging to it, but fading rapidly. (The makeup and throne have a lot of Illusion and Enchantment; there’s a lot of necromancy generally everywhere.) Shoshana lifts the sheet with her stick. There’s a skeleton sitting in the throne. Not even an animated one. It’s wearing a very nice costume robe and has a crown on its head. Clearly, it’s meant to represent the Pale King, and the culmination of the circus act’s plot, but whatever power it once held was probably coming from the Fool. It’s inert now. We smack it with sticks. It engages in normal skeleton behavior. We want it to be on the floor in pieces, which it finds perfectly doable.

We snag some posters labeled “Feste’s Circus Presents: Journey to the Great Court” and start to head out.

We roll against Taint, but we’re fine. The initial Wis save against the smoke was the big taint risk - getting drawn into story could have been a disaster.

Gral theorizes on what exactly the Fool’s gambit was. There was spell worked into the performance. Its effects weren’t physical, like the disease in Mornheim. This was more like an elaborate, highly modified Mass Suggestion, bringing the people into a susceptible state and then implanting the idea of the glory and power of the Pale King. This wasn’t an attempt to make more undead; this was an attempt to indoctrinate more cultists.

As we exit the tent we remember - oh, right, there’s a big crowd panicking.

Luckily, we have a charismatic and noticeable person with us. A Large Shiny Paladin Riding a Fancy Magic-gator shouting “There is no more threat here, everything has been taken care of, let us talk to the sheriff,” definitely helps - people don’t necessarily believe her, but they’ll obey and let themselves get corralled. Flynn, very experienced in the public relations aspect of monster-fightin’, helps wrangle and pacify the crowd.

The sheriff of Three Oaks Junction has been summoned, and pushes through the nervous crowd to Valeria. “Kyr, thank you, I hear you’ve save us all – what do we do about this???”

Valeria puts on her best commanding voice. “The villainous troop itself has been dealt with; we have no idea if there is any other magical danger in the tent. Is it safe to burn it down?”

The Sheriff nods. “Oh, ya, local fire ordinances meant we had enough clearance around it; nothing else’ll catch.”

We get the townsfolk well clear of the area, and then Shoshana, whose player is appeased that she won’t start a godawful circus tent fire like in that documentary she saw once, Fireballs it. The tent burns merrily.

Flynn nods to his sister; it’s time for him to do what he does best. He rolls a decent performance check and steps into his role as Radiant Knight, dramatically recounting the battle for the shaken crowd. He focuses on making all of us look good, which is really nice! He lights up his sword with Green-Flame Blade as he gestures around with it, which is an excellent visual effect. He’s framed in front of the burning fire of the tent, and Gral performs an exciting score of back-up musical accompaniment.

“And then Kyr Argent strode forward, her sword flashing...”

(whispers) “I wasn’t using my sword”

“Ssshhh, it fits better, he’s embellishing.”

As camera pans up, following the smoke into the starry skies over the Cursewood, we end session.

#session recap #mornheim #three oaks junction #gral omokk'duu #clem haxan #valeria argent #shoshana bat chaya #flynn fairgold #fiona fairgold #The Pale King

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chibirii · 5 years

Text

Slate: Chapter One

Chapter One: A Scrap of a Ticket

“Where’re you going? Let’s go on the subway together!”, one of her coworkers, a tiny blonde girl named Anna, called, as Lily was ending the day at her cookie-cutter office job.

She worked on the forty-fourth floor of a forty-five story building, in a small accounting firm. The hours were decent (except for when tax season came around), the employees kind (except for when there was some office drama going around), and the paycheck rather good; everything she could possibly want in a job. It wasn’t her passion, but she was still saving up for medical school.

Lily had always wanted to be a doctor, ever since she was young, and she was rather smart, but not smart enough to go to college on a scholarship, and not nearly rich enough to afford it without one; after graduating with thousands of dollars of debt, she thought it was clear another four years of being a student would leave her family bankrupt. So, instead, when she’d graduated college a year ago, she took a cushy, well-paying job, as she was a sensible type when it came to matters like these, and she’d seen the looks her parents exchanged behind her back, wondering if they could really pay for it, though they put on cheery fake smiles in front of her.

“I have to pick up groceries, sorry!”, she replied apologetically, and it was true, though she was secretly glad about it: she rather liked her coworkers, but she wasn’t close to any one of them – she hadn’t wanted to make friends when she’d arrived because she thought she would be leaving soon, and by the time she realized she’d be there until at least twenty-six paying off loans, it had been too late, and now everyone thought she was very quiet, though she was really not – and so she thought it would be rather awkward to ride on the subway with Anna.

“Well, bye then!” Anna waved, and Lily waved back, and made her way to the elevator.

It was a rather boring ride down, and it took a bit to get down forty-four floors, but Lily didn’t mind it, for the views she got at the office when she stayed late (which she did quite often, as she had nothing much else to do and overtime pay was high) were splendid precisely because of the height.

Lily checked to make sure she had her wallet and keys while she waited patiently for the door to open at the bottom, and once it did, she stepped out quickly, the clop-clop-clop of her heels pounding down on the tile. To her, it felt like the loudest noise on Earth, but no one in the lobby even noticed: they were far too busy getting their own work done, she knew, to care about her – but that didn’t make her feel any less awkward.

Having walked the short ten-foot distance from the lobby to the entrance, she pushed open one of the heavy glass double doors (it was the only building with them nearby, and though most of Lily’s coworkers scoffed at them, saying they were “just a way to make a shabby building pretend to be a nice one”, she rather liked them – they gave off a certain air of elegance, a certain je ne sais quoi, in a way that made her want to wear high heels and suit dresses and use words like ‘je ne sais quoi’).

When the hot air hit her, Lily blinked, as it seemed almost abnormally stuffy, but held her head high and in the sticky July heat, made the short walk from the elevator to the grocery store. Of course, she could have gone to the grocery store near her house, but that was far more expensive, and it really wasn’t much of a hassle, she reasoned.

An hour later, her grocery shopping was over, and she carried four large grocery bags worth of salad ingredients and chicken breast -- she wasn’t a great cook but still liked to eat somewhat healthy.

As Lily boarded the subway, she felt a little lonely, but she wasn’t sure why, as she made the same trip two times a day, and also rather tired, because of all the bags she was holding. Luckily, the train was nearly deserted, because it was almost seven, and she was accompanied by only a couple of tired-looking men in suits, so she could plop down on a seat. Lily popped in an earbud and turned on “Shuffle” in her favorite songs playlist. BTS’ Heartbeat started playing, and when she thought about it later, she’d realize it was an important detail to pick up on, for it was the first odd thing about that day, because she didn’t like Heartbeat that much, and didn’t even listen to BTS often; at the time, though, she was content to simply sit back and listen to the song.

The subway ride seemed to past by rather quickly, and before she knew it, she was crossing the bridge to get back to your home, a small high-rise apartment on the fifth floor in one of the nicer areas of the city. Lily had chosen it for the clean white interior and the balcony where she sometimes out with a mug of something warm to gaze at the sunset. It was a rather sentimental thing to do, she knew, the type of things that you read about in blogs and amateur novels, but it was alright, because she had a romantic kind of character.

Walking back, she noticed the full moon above her – was it really that late? By her estimate, it should only have been about seven-thirty, and it was the middle of summer – and she could see the sea through the bridge. She kept her eyes on the coarse pavement of the bridge, though, as she didn’t have any time to be dawdling on the bridge with groceries in hand, especially at night, with all the danger she’d heard about on the news.

Suddenly, Lily saw a glimmer in the ocean. The sky was almost black now, and she was almost across the bridge, and her building was across the street from it, so she allowed herself to sneak a peek. The first thing she noticed was how calm the water looked: the waves were not lapping gently as usual, but seemed to have stopped entirely.

Curious, she set the bags down and peered through the short bridge gate into the sea. In this time of night, it barely looked like the sea at all – it was not fully dark, owing to the moon, but it had certainly taken on a deep navy, and looked eerie. Lily shivered involuntarily, but she kept looking for the object she had seen in the corner of her eye.

Then, she felt a hand on her back, and suddenly, she was pushed into the water.

The last thing she felt was the icy water enveloping her, and somehow her hand grasped the thing that had been floating, and rather tightly, considering she were drifting unconscious.

When Lily opened her eyes, she saw the roof of someone’s house – was it hers? No, this was a faded yellow, and hers was cream white.

Realizing she’d either been kidnapped or rescued, she pushed herself awake quickly, and pulled the soft aquamarine blanket she had been under off, though she regretted it not even a second later because although everything in her body seemed to be fine, she was very, very cold. Looking around, she saw the room was small, with only a single cot and many different shelves, filled with various knickknacks and cooking pots: storage room? Point one for kidnapped, Lily thought grimly.

Next, she searched her jacket pockets, and found her phone still in one, along with a waterlogged wallet (it was a good thing she didn’t carry much cash) and keys (at least those didn’t have any signs of damage, though she felt like she’d been chilled to the bone when she touched them), and tried turning it on desperately. Of course, she thought, as you’ve just, been pushed into the ocean, Lily, it wouldn’t work. Point two for being kidnapped? Well really, she thought, this was neither. It was a real shame, too – she’d only bought the phone last month, and she didn’t think “being pushed into the ocean” would be accepted for the warranty: they’d definitely think she’d simply dropped it. Maybe she could give them the police report?

The doorknob rattled, knocking Lily out of her thoughts, and she held her phone in front of her like a weapon, though she knew she wasn’t exactly threatening, what with her still shivering from the cold and all.

The person who opened the door, though, was a frail-looking old woman carrying a plate of food, and she nearly dropped the phone in surprise, chiding herself silently for putting her guard down – old women could be kidnappers, too.

“Oh, good, you’re awake”, she said, “it’s been a couple hours and I was worried.”

“Did you… find me in the ocean?” Lily lowered the phone, somehow sensing her honesty, and she nodded.

“Just a couple hours ago.”

“What time is it right now?”

“It’s about ten o’clock.” Lily’s eyes widened, and she sat up straighter.

“Ten hours in the ocean… I should be dead.”

“Well, I took you to the hospital, and they said you were alright – apparently, there was nothing wrong with you at all.”

She wanted to believe the woman, but it was just so impossible: she’d never heard of someone surviving in the water for even two or three hours with no problem in any of the medical textbooks she’d read, never mind the whole night. And how had she not drowned?

Lily shook her head disbelievingly, and the woman looked at her with sympathetic eyes.

“Would you like to go outside?”, she asked kindly, and Lily nodded once again.

The woman led her outside of the room to a small shop with many display cases filled with the most delicious-looking rice cakes Lily had ever seen, though that wasn’t saying much as she didn’t like rice cakes much, and rarely bought them.

“I run this shop”, she explained as an answer to the questioning look Lily hadn’t realized was on her face, “and my grandson and I live on the top floor”.

Then, she beckoned for Lily to eat the tray of food, which – surprisingly enough – didn’t include rice cakes.

She waited for Lily to finish patiently, which Lily was confused by – didn’t she have a shop to run? Not a single customer had come in.

The woman seemed to anticipate her question once again (if she hadn’t known better, Lily might have said she was psychic, but she didn’t believe in things like that), and said “I closed the shop today.”

Lily wondered whether it was rude of her to protest, because then she’d be assuming the shop was closed because of her, and ultimately decided to not say anything at all.

“Do you have anywhere to go?”, the woman questioned, and Lily was confused, until she realized that the woman probably thought she’d jumped into the water.

“O-oh, yeah of course I do!”, Lily answered quickly, and it was at this time that she realized she had to go and reassure everyone she was alright: her parents still called her every day, and she hadn’t called off for work. Her wallet was soaked, but the credit card would hopefully still be working, she thought, and got up to leave.

“Well, alright then, but you’re welcome here if you ever need a place to stay.” Lily nodded, and continued on her way out

Right as she pushed open the door, though, the woman cried “Wait!” and, ducking inside the corridor Lily had come from, brought her what looked like a laminated ticket to a BTS concert, except all of the members’ faces had faded away. “You were holding on to this when I found you, so I thought it might be important, and dried it.”

So, that was what she had seen. Lily took it with a sincere “thanks”, and stepped outside.

She knew where this was: it was the neighborhood on the coastline, and Lily could see the sea only a few hundred meters away. The shops here were small, but quaint, and the owners, usually retirees or descendants of people who had lived in this part of the city for generations, offered mostly handmade goods. It seemed like a very pleasant sort of place, and she kept the number on the front of the rice cake woman’s shop – 4419 – in mind, so Lily could come back later, to thank her.

Apparently, a new subway had just been built: there was an abundance of signs marking its opening, so Lily followed them. She thought it would be interesting to see a subway when it’d just been built: was everything shiny and new at first, or did the layer of gray ‘subway grime’ on the floor exist from the first day? The subway she took to work every day had opened in 2014, so, although somewhat new for a subway, it was still quite established by the time Lily had started taking it. Opening a second subway in the same city, though, seemed like an odd idea, but she supposed it was because of some political thing, a way to get more funds or something like that. She’d heard of that once, in the Government class she’d taken in high school, but she wasn’t usually paying attention in that class, so she couldn’t be sure.

The sky was bright today, but the air was much cooler: it was a pleasant sort of the day, the perfect type to have a picnic or walk to the ice cream shop. The suffocating heat of yesterday seemed worlds away, and Lily resolved to not waste this: once she’d assured everyone everything was fine, and gone to the police station to file an official report, and gotten more groceries (she winced at how much money had been wasted yesterday), she’d go to the park.

As she walked down the sidewalk, Lily felt fine, though she knew she was shelving all the fear of yesterday and today, to be opened at a better time, perhaps in the solitude of her apartment with ice cream and a Hallmark romcom. She knew once the tears had started, they wouldn’t stop, and she’d have nightmares about this, but she made herself be okay because she couldn’t afford to do anything else.

Finally, after about fifteen minutes of walking, she arrived at the steps to the station. She climbed down them, and to her surprise, the station looked the exact same as her usual one, except a bit cleaner (clearly, the subway grime was a part of the subway from a start. Lily supposed it made sense, because otherwise it’d get a bit confusing to talk about ‘the subway’, though she wondered why they would advertise it as ‘new’ then. Walking up to the ticket stand, she gave the attendant her card, asking for a ticket to her regular station.

“I’m sorry, but that’s not a station that exists?” He looked at her quizzically, and Lily blinked and tilted her head in response.

“Are you sure? I just rode on it yesterday?”

“Yesterday, this station wasn’t even open…?”

“Er, alright.” Lily was rather confused, and a bit embarrassed, because she hadn’t realized that this was actually a new subway, and asked how to get to her part of town, instead.

“Like where the car park is?”

“No, the apartment complexes.” Now, she was even more confused – Lily had never seen a car park the whole time you’d been living there.

“There are no apartment complexes in that area.”

Something about what he said struck her: there had been a car park, before, and considering it was the ‘grand opening’ of this subway… But it couldn’t be. But hadn’t she noticed that everything seemed just a bit different? And that she shouldn’t have lived through that jump? Lily knew it was a ridiculous notion, and she’d never think of asking the question normally, but some part of her deep inside encouraged it, so she did.

“Could you tell me what the date is?”

“July 1st, 2014.”, he replied confidently, apparently glad that Lily were no longer talking nonsense.

“Y—you’re sure?”

“Yes, of course.” And the smile he’d had on his face disappeared again.

Lily told him that she no longer needed a ticket, and went to sit down on the brown-and-green bench she had spotted a few feet away.

“He must be playing a prank on me, or something.”, she told herself, and started asking random passengers what the date was.

Nearly a half hour later, with everyone having said “July first, two thousand fourteen.”, Lily was forced to acknowledge the reality: somehow, she was now in 2014. Was this a dream? Was she dead, and this was the afterlife? Why would she even be taken to an afterlife where it was 2014? Or had you really traveled back in time?

She pushed those thoughts to the back of her mind, and realized that there were more pressing issues right now, namely how to find a house and a job when she was five years into the past. So, she went job hunting.

“I’m sorry, we aren’t hiring.”, was the first store’s response, and about three hundred of them after that said the same thing.

“Do you have any relevant work experience?”, had been the second’s, and though she did as a 23-year-old, Lily was only 18 in 2014 – not only did she not have a resume, but she lived in a whole different state.

After hours of combing through the city (on foot, because her credit card no longer worked), Lily finally found a burger joint that was willing to take her in, but then, disaster struck in the form of a very pleasant question.

“I’m looking forward to having you on board! Could you give me a valid form of ID?”

But of course, a driver’s license (Lily had learned to drive in high school, but nowadays she only used the subway and had just gotten a license for this exact sort of situation) that had the date “05/04/2018” stamped on it would not do.

Finally, sitting on a park bench in the middle of the beach at sunset (she was glad that that was still there), Lily didn’t know what to do. She could spend the night in a park, but that was rather dangerous, and especially for a woman. The homeless shelter was full, and she couldn’t get a job, and her parents were a state away, so she had no way of paying the deposit for any sort of living space.

Lily felt tears stream down her cheeks, and numbly realized she was crying, which was a shock to her because she knew she had to find somewhere to go, and now – usually that’d be enough to hold off the tears, but today her usually-iron resolve was crumbling.

She wasn’t sure why, maybe she’d held it in too long, or maybe it was because she was alone, or maybe it was because she hated getting help from strangers, but it was as she’d thought earlier – she couldn’t stop herself, and tears kept running down her cheeks no matter how she tried to quell them. She put her head in her hands, and let herself cry, because this seemed like the only deserted place in the whole city, and there was still some time before the sun truly set, and this was bad, damn it.

“Are you alright?”, a soft voice called out, and Lily wondered how this could get any worse. She lifted her head up, wiped her cheeks with her hands, and looked at the person standing in front of her who had so rudely interrupted her feel-sorry-for-myself session.

The first thing she noticed was that he was a rather brilliant lookalike of Jimin from BTS, which struck her as terribly funny, and she started laughing in spite of herself. He looked incredibly bewildered, and Lily tried to explain between her laughs.

“I’m sorry--you look--- exactly like--this guy from an idol group.” She managed to finish, and though he still looked quite confused (was BTS around in this time? Lily wondered, but she thought they probably would be), he gave her a weak smile.

“I’ve been told I’m handsome a bit, but mostly by my grandma.”, the boy offered shyly, and the word grandma made Lily realize where she was again.

“I’m sorry, that wasn’t very funny--are you alright?”, asked the lookalike, as Lily’s face had become tense and stony, while tears welled up in her eyes.

“No, it’s alright, it’s just been a really bad day.”

“What happened?” He sat down on the bench next to her.

“Things.” She couldn’t very well say that she’d been pushed into the ocean and had woken up five years into the past, could she?

“Oh.”

“I—I just don’t want to do this, because I hate needing help from people, and I’m Lily, and I’m supposed to be independent, you know, because I’m Lily, and—” She burst into tears again there, and the boy patted her hand, a bit awkwardly, but comforting nonetheless.

“Since when did being independent mean you had to do everything yourself?”

“But this isn’t even a small thing, you don’t understand, I’m asking someone I don’t even know to take me in because I have absolutely no where else to go, and I just—” She broke off.

“Oh.”

“Exactly.”

“So, why are you here?” Lily asked, because she could see his eyes simmering with emotion, just below the surface, and she did not think for a minute he’d just come to see the view.

He seemed taken aback, but responded anyways, in such a quiet voice she’d almost classify it as a whisper.

“I’m feeling a bit seasick.”

“So you came to the sea?”

“Isn’t it better to face your fears head-on?”

“I suppose. But what’s making you feel seasick when you’re not near the sea?”

“I’ve been delaying making a choice for two years, or maybe even longer, and I feel like I’ve missed the timing.”

“I know the feeling.”, Lily replied, as she was notoriously slow at making decisions.

“It’s awful, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

They were silent for a couple minutes, looking out at the waves rushing out towards the sand and the reddish-golden glow of the sunset (the atmosphere was quite pleasant, unlike yesterday), until she decided she needed to speak, because she had something she needed to say.

“Don’t wait.”

“What?” He turned to look at her again, and she met his dark brown eyes with her own.

“Make the decision, now.”

“I don’t think I can.”

“When I said ‘make the decision’, did one of the options come to your mind?”

“Yes.”, he replied hesitantly.

“Then do it. Whatever it is. Because if you don’t do it, then trust me, you’ll regret it, so, so much.” Once Lily was finished talking, she trained her eyes back to the horizon, because she hadn’t wanted to say it, since she didn’t like to think about the past, but she knew that if someone had told that to her in 2014, she would have been happier. Less accomplished, probably, and maybe it wouldn’t have changed anything at all, but she thought it would, because happiness was the sort of thing that you got when you did what you wanted to do, or at least tried.

“What if it’s more difficult?”

“Isn’t it better to regret the things that you did do than the ones you didn’t?”

“Shouldn’t you be doing what you need to do, then?”

Lily didn’t reply, but she knew he was right, and she hoped he would listen to her advice, too.

She got up to leave, but another question occurred to her.

“Do you know where 4419 is?”, she questioned, gesturing to the shops behind them.

“Oh, that’s my grandmother’s house. Do you need anything?”

“See, I don’t know how to tell you this but…” Lily trailed off, wondering why, out of all the people who could have stumbled upon her, did it have to be him?

It seemed he’d understood, and he awkwardly smiled, holding out one of his hands.

“Hi, I’m Jimin Park.” Lily thought it was rather odd that he’d share the same name as a member of BTS, too, but it was a somewhat common name, and anyways they couldn’t be the same, because she was now sure that they had been a group in 2014, and this Jimin was nowhere near their training studio in Seoul.

“Lily Olfson.”, she returned, and shook his hand.

“C’mon, I’ll show you the way.” He started walking, and Lily followed.

She still felt rather awkward about spilling her heart out to essentially a complete stranger, but the most important thing now was to make sure she had a place to sleep tonight. Would the old woman be alright with Lily staying the night?

As it turned out, she looked rather happy that Lily had come back, and with Jimin in tow to boot.

“You can help me out in the shop in exchange for living here – and call me Grandmother”, she’d said to Lily, and Lily guiltily taken the offer. She felt bad about deceiving Mrs. Park (“Grandmother” brought up too many bad memories in her head), but what else could she do? Say she was from the future? Now, she was seated on the couch of the living room with Jimin, and the tension felt thick in the air.

“You know, you like an awful lot like the Jimin from BTS”, Lily said finally, because it was true, and she thought jokes might be a good idea in this situation.

“What’s BTS?”

“Oh, they’re an idol group.”

“I don’t think any idol groups right now have the name BTS.”

“They’re pretty underrated. If you give me your phone, I can show you.” Looking confused but also a bit bemused, he complied.

Lily opened up YouTube, and typed in BTS.

Nothing came up.

Then, she tried BigHit.

Nothing came up.

Finally, she tried looking them up on Google.

Only a single article, titled Bighit cancels new rookie group, came up.

She turned back to him, wide-eyed.

“Jimin, what’s your birthday?”

“October 13, 1995, why?”

“Something…. Something is wrong.”

Introduction

Next Chapter: 7.10.2019

#bts jimin #park jimin #jimin scenarios #bts scenarios #jimin fluff #bts world #jimin angst #bts x oc #bts

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edh-a-to-z · 5 years

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Best of 2018 - Uncommons

Lets dig into some real EDH meat - some Uncommons!

I’ll pick the best uncommon by set, and rattle off some of my other picks to add to your EDH collection.

From Rivals of Ixalan

Ravenous Chupacabra

This has been made a great showing in Standard and Limited. It makes a great creature in EDH, comparable with Nekrataal, with an ability to hit different things for a weaker combat body - in my opinion, it’s even better.

Notable for doing good work in Alesha decks.

Aquatic Incursion - Great for Merfolk tribal decks. Helps Curiosity effects or Voltron damage

Atzocan Seer - Dino tribal support, with recursion and mana fixing. Solid uncommon

Forerunner of the X - Merfolk, Pirate, Vampire, Dinosaur support, each synergizing well with the tribe

Legion Lieutenant, Merfolk Mistbinder - More tribal support

Thrashing Brontodon - A solidly build 3 drop, with the ability to act like Naturalize when needed

Now for my picks of Dominaria

Cast Down

Nothing like that sweet, sweet, 2 Mana Black removal. From the likes of old Terror to faves like Doom Blade, sacrificing options for cheaper kill spells gives black one heck of an edge.

Basically Every Legendary - Most of them are real interesting, promoting a build-around-me strategy. Yargle, memes aside, is lame, and Garna is underwhelming, but they all have solid potential as commanders, and most have some role in 1 of the 99

Dauntless Bodyguard - Can act as a walking totem armor, and can easily be recurred by almost any low level Rez ability (like Alesha)

Fungal Plots - If ya ain’t using the corpses, make ‘em mulch. With the added benefit of another use for Saproling tokens, this is a great addition to any Saproling tribal deck. Personally I still prefer Nightsoil

Jhoira’s Familiar - Styled like a Planeshift familiar, this can be even more useful - makes it easier to cast your commander, works for artifact tribal - a nice solid role.

Goblin Warchief - A nice reprint that makes a great addition to any Goblin tribal deck

Merfolk Trickster - Flash in, neuter a creature. And probably follow up with a removal spell. Buh bye indestructible.

Settle the Score - Removal. A bit pricey, but if you’re running a superfriends deck, it might be interesting.

Song of Freyalise - For a go-wide deck, this is a nice ramp option which makes everything into a Llanowar Elves.

The Eldest Reborn - Nice circular removal, forced discard (not so powerful), and a great Rez affect that hits anything.

Time of Ice - If you have a deck that can actively tap creatures, this can be a soft board removal.

The Multiplayer oriented set of Battlebond had a lot of fun mechanics, hopefully they get picked up again to make a bigger splash in EDH.

Fumble

The ultimate anti-Voltron tech. You play with enough people, this can hit. The biggest difficulty of using it is that any creature that you throw two or more Auras or Equipments on, will probably have some form of protection, so the likes of Arcane Lighthouse or Glaring Spotlight can help out.

Beast Within - A great color pie break, this lets Green decks deal with anything. A 3/3 Creature in a multiplayer format is far less threatening than in other formats.

Cheering Fanatic - Lets you power out anything one turn faster. The ability to choose as it attacks is phenomenal - I originally expected it to have to be named as it was played and never changed.

Oreskos Explorer - Lets you play catchup when you’ve missed land drops, or someone has been landramping. Allowing you to pick Plains can let you mana fix with dual lands.

Out of Bounds - You only have U? Maybe you can team up to play this with a friends help. If someone is comboing off, you’re all on the same side!

Swords to Plowshares - You play white, you play this.

Unflinching Courage - A humble but solid aura, useful in most any Selesnya deck

Veteran Explorer - If everyone ramps, but you have things to do with all that mana, it helps you the most. Woohoo!

A return to Core Sets was much desired. M19 delivered more than we hoped for IMO.

Mirror Image

Sometimes the best thing to Clone is what you brought to the table yourself. Or Clone a Clone of something you’ve already Cloned and control. A 1 mana discount makes it even more attractive.

Aether Tunnel - When it comes to Voltron, it’s Evasion, Evasion, Evasion

Draconic Disciple - Fixes your mana (especially useful in those 5C Dragon tribal decks), then becomes a 5/5 Dragon when you don’t need that anymore. Good early and good late.

Exclusion Mage - Man o War with better tribal tags

Psychic Corrosion - If you draw half your deck, they mill all of theirs. Works incremental and in bulk mill decks, which tend to draw anyway.

Reassembling Skeleton - Discard fodder, Sac bait, the possibilities are...not endless, but multitudinous

Reclamation Sage - One of the best EDH tools. Naturalize on a 2/1 body for all your removal and recursion needs

Regal Bloodlord - Some possible usage in LG decks, especially like Karlov decks which focus on incremental lifegain. A small army of Bat tokens can always come in handy

Reliquary Tower - Unlimited hand size has some niche usage in draw heavy decks, and doesn’t really cost a deck slot if it replaces a Basic land.

Time for Guilds of Ravnica, and the best from among them!

Goblin Creatermaker

I love option!. Shock and Artifact+ removal are fantastic! Right power to be Tutored by Imperial Recruiter or Recruiter of the Guard, or Rez’d by Alesha, makes a great EDH utility creature.

Chemister’s Insight - Draw on an Instant is always usable, and doing it twice is great. Jump-Start is a better Retrace, and I love it.

Circuitous Route - A poor man’s ramp. Still, mana fixing!

Conclave Tribunal - An over priced Oblivion Ring with the benefit of Convoke, works great in some go-wide decks

Crush Contraband - feels like Return to Dust, and can make a good supplement to decks looking for that

Demotion - The ability to shut down Activated Abilities makes it interesting. Knocking out a blocker is just gravy

Golgari Findbroker - A poor man’s Eternal Witness.

League Guildmage - Draw is a great mana dump, and getting a single Replicate option for R is pretty nice, especially for smaller CMC spells

Murmuring Mystic - Another Spellslinger tool, with better tokens than Young Pyromancer!

Sinister Sabotage - Mandatory Cancel replacement

Here’s my pick for the best of Ultimate Master’s Uncommons!

Angel of Despair

Removal is king in EDH. From board wipes, to specific answers, to counterspells, all of these have their place in a given EDH deck.

The ability to destroy any permanent, including Lands and Planeswalkers, really makes this a really great utility card. On top of a solid 5/5 flying body (worth about 5 mana) that removal is 2 mana, which is a good deal. Also one of my favorites targets in a Reanimator deck.

Anger and Brawn - Both of these have dropped to bulk prices thanks to the reprint, and make excellent buffs for many a deck

Apprentice Necromancer - Before last year, this risked going over $2. Thanks to a reprint here and in C17, new GY players have a cheap tool

Artisan of Kozilek - Another great eldrazi fatty, casting it (and not just from your hand, paying the cost, just casting it) also Rez’s another creature from your yard. A great 2 for 1!

Umbra - Boar and Snake - Both greath auras for Voltron, and any other deck

Buried Alive - Nice GY tutor. Cuz Entomb is still expensive.

Dawn Charm - A swiss army knife that was unbelivably originally printed at common. A three pronged

Eternal Witness - New card, same power. Been a great card since Fifth Dawn, still great now

Fecundity - REPLACEMENTS! If you kill your own stuff the fastest, you get the most out of this

Young Pyromancer - Spellslinger classique!

Laboratory Maniac - A fun alt win con that needed a reprint

Masters 25 ... didn’t have a lot of great stuff, especially at uncommon.

The big champ to get reprinted was Ash Barrens. Goes in every multicolored deck, and needed a reprint to keep the price from C16 down.

Cursecatcher - If you’re in the market for a counterspell, this can do the job sometimes.

Rancor - A great enchantment with evasion you can cast over and over again.

Willbender - A nominally useful Morph card

That’s all the uncommons for now! I’ll be back with the rares and mythics soon!

So long campers!

#mtg #edh #edhatoz #uma #ultimate masters #budget edh #Set Picks

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brothermouzongaming · 6 years

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Games that own parts of my soul

This is different from my favorite games. These are games that are some of my favorites yet. I will say however that a lot of these games don’t fall under my “top”/”favorite” games of all time. These are some of the biggest time sinks in my gaming tenure. The titles that kept me coming back long after I was done and even after that. Games I played with friends, and games that absorbed all the time available for one reason or another. Let’s dive in.

Guitar Hero 2

This series got me into playing guitar, I watched my friend smash out “Laid to Rest” on Hard mode and thought I was going to lose my mind. DDR but for musicians? Umm sign me tf up?! The song catalog was amazing and I played at her house whenever I could. When I finally got GH2 was one of the final pushes I got to pick up the real instrument. Hours learning and being introduced to new music from classics to new school underground. “Beast and the Harlot”, “Crazy on You”, “Dead!”, “Jessica”, and “YYZ” were some of my favorites with DLC songs that were really solidified the amazing tracklist as a whole. My pinky will never forgive me, but all those hours were well worth the high score I don’t have anymore.

Indigo Prophecy

I’ll never forget this game. I have never and will never play anything like Indigo Prophecy for as long as I live. From the actual story, to the various gameplay elements; at the time I was simply blindsided by the game and it’s totally off the wall sci-fi “Big Trouble in Little China” feel to it all. David Cage hasn’t been able to capture my attention and enjoyment since this title and with the way things are going, I’m not sure he will. Everything now is so serious and downtrodden. Indigo Prophecy had a serious tone but have you seen this scene?

Max Payne 3

This is the ultimate shooting gallery. I would dive into a level just to see how I could kill everyone differently. Only SMGs, only pistols, shotguns, no bullet time, as much as possible. No combination was too minor, it was a wild (at times nonsensical) action movie that I got to choreograph to my precise preferences. Very rarely do I come back to games like this but the variables and possibilities were always a great plaything that could drain anywhere from a couple minutes to a couple hours. I was also super into the movie Man on Fire at the time and I think the devs were too lol.

NBA Live 2005

Just before I kicked Live to the curb for that sweet sweet 2K simulation. This game was kept long after my love affair with Live died. The dribbling mechanics were a big bump from 04, graphics and strategy were also considerably bumped from the previous title, and the addition of All-Star weekend lead to some pretty great weekends at friend’s houses with the Slam Dunk and Three-Point Contest. Honestly, it’s the best addition to any NBA game ever. All-Star weekend alone could have this spot.

Prototype

This was the first game I ever waited for. Who else remembers the first long drawn out wait for a game? I remember seeing the cover on Game Informer of Alex in his jacket and hoodie, looking down at the ground with that badass dark look everyone was going for in around 2009. Talks of biochemical engineering, open world Manhattan, light RPG mechanics that will enhance our abilities over time, said badass dark tone. All things appealed to eighteen year old me. Prototype imbues the player with power and though the story as a whole drags I enjoyed the actual game so much I couldn’t give less of a damn.

Second Sight

When my buddy told me that the people that had made Time Splitters had made a new game, I nearly lost my mind. When he told me it revolved around Psychic abilities, I actually did. The gameplay was rough when it came to cover and gameplay, but the powers were so much fun I barely used the guns that were available. It’s a stealth game that is a terrible stealth game, but as a third person action adventure, it’s a solid game. Time Splitters is a better shooter but the story and gameplay was more fun in Second Sight. Speaking of Time Splitters...

Time Splitters 2

Y'all I didn’t even own this game. A childhood friend of mine had it and we always hung out and TS2 is one of those games that leaves you neck deep in content and lets you play with it. The split-screen multiplayer was boundless in its modifiers, characters, game modes, and weapons. Between this and Cel Damage I was left with a hard decision but I miss Free Radical and their wacky way of making games. It was a fun, funny, and well made. A game that takes me back to sitting on the floor, swinging my controller around as if it helped me stay alive in the heat of a firefight. I miss this game and all the fun it gave me and my friends.

#Guitar Hero 2 #Indigo Prophecy #Max Payne 3 #NBA Live 2005 #Prototype #Second Sight #Time Splitters 2 #video games #gaming

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yuki-d-raizel-blog · 7 years

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Hero

Chapter 9/??

Relationship: Todoroki Shouto x Reader (Your/Name), (Full/Name)

Summit: It all begin at the Sports Festival when Shouto’s other half met Endevour by mistake. The student never thought to see his partner fight against his father just to show him that he is wrong. It started from that instant, Shouto’s new path started exactly from that moment thanks to his friends and his beloved one.

—

Fortunately, All Might is nearby and Tenya calls for him. The living legend literally lifts you up and drags you to Recovery Girl again, while Midoriya and Iida are following him, watching you anger up. You tried to escape but the hero is blocking the exit, so you stand immobile to stare at him for five minutes straight, then go back to the seat in front of the heroine and drop your hands on the table.

<<The next time I’ll fucking crush his skull against something so strongly that his bones will turn into dust…>> the student whispers evil murdering plans with a very adapted gaze, <<I’ll beat the shit out of- Ow!>>

<<It’s the same as before.>> says the old lady, <<Your muscles are too tense, I can’t pierce them, you need to relax. I don’t wanna give you more medicines.>>

<<Are you trying to kill me? Ok, I get it, I’ll relax. God fucking dammit- Ouch!>>

<<A lady shouldn’t say those words.>>

<<Grr… Am I allowed to break something?>>

<<No, you must use your hands the most less possible.>>

<>

<<This is my office, you are not allowed to destroy anything.>> her voice is angry but when she sees the student hits the head on the table and stays like that, she pats her gently, <<Calm down, sweetheart.>>

<<Can I have my phone at least? I need music.>> Izuku takes it from your pocket, he searches the title, presses play and leaves the phone near you.

A beautiful song comes out from the speakers, an instrumental one played with violin and other instruments which blend so wonderfully together. It’s so relaxing and well written that Beethoven is a stupid in confront; the compositor selected all deep notes and when it goes to the higher ones, the rhythm doesn’t change so much, it’s the same deep, touching and relaxing song. (Y/N) closes her eyes and softly sings along.

<<It’s very beautiful, young (Y/N). Who wrote it?>> All Might leaves the door now that you’re relaxed, in fact his colleague can do her job easily.

<<Me and my mom.>> she replies with a sleepy voice, <>

<<You did a wonderful job. Please tell it to your parents too.>>

<<They died in a car accident ten years ago…>> a tear is resting on the edge of your eye, <<This is the last song we composed together… I couldn’t even say sorry to her for what I’ve done.>>

<<Oh… I’m sorry, I asked something bad.>> the hero caresses your back kindly with his big hands, <<But I’m sure they are proud of you. You are strong, gentle and smile everyday->>

<<My father hated me due to my quirk… Control seven forms it’s difficult, I was little and I was training to master a new one, but I burned down the garden… and after that, nothing could grow again on that soil.>>

<<It’s a science reaction, the fire destroys brutally the ground, it takes ages to go back like it was.>> explains Tenya hoping to cheer you up a little, <<It wasn’t your fault.>>

<<Yeah, as if kids can understand that sophisticated mechanism.>> she mutters, <<My father never called me by name, never told me lovely words, never said “happy birthday” or caress me even once… My mom was my light. She was a huge fan of you, All Might-sensei.>>

<<What a big honor.>> the teacher is moved by your story, as Midoriya and Tenya, <>

<<She was smiling and saying super cool things about you, she was always arguing with neighbors because her strong sense of justice…>> the girl smiles sadly, <<She taught me how to play the violin and the piano, and was during those days that I decided to become someone like her.>>

<<Can I ask why you hate Endevour so much?>> this time is Recovery Girl who asked the question.

<<Because he is like my father. I know how it feels when you’re bent and broken, how it feels when your dignity is stolen, I know how it feels when someone keeps their chains on you.>> she raises the head and rests her chin on the cold surface, <<Day after day, I defended mom from him, and when we went to a company to produce our last song, my light was taken away from me.>>

<> the doctor starts to bandage your hands, <<You father played an instrument too?>>

<<No. Mom’s compositions were so good to be sold almost immediately, he married her just for fame, money and his ego. I feel always so bad when I go to see her… That day, was the first time I argued with her, she was too kind with that shitty husband… I’ve said bad things to her and never said sorry for that.>>

<<You were in the car too?>> Iida asks as he watches your hands be covered by bandages.

<<Yeah, but I don’t remember anything from the accident, only a truck coming towards us, a bright light and then, a few doctors were talking about permanent damages on my back with my grandparents.>> she turns off the music and opens her eyes, <<Ah don’t worry, that damage is only a scar, nothing else.>>

<<Ok sweetheart, you can go.>> Mic announced that in few minutes the next round starts, <<Don’t use them too much, am I clear?>>

<<Yes ma’am! Then->>

<<How can you talk about this tragedy smiling?>> Izuku questioned seeing you like the old days at school.

<<Because if I let this win over me, I could never be a hero.>>

—

(And here we are at another round! Fighters, get on the stage! We have the ordinary section with a psychic quirk that we haven’t seen yet! He is (choose a name)! And on the other side we have the student who is the most voted to win the festival! She fights with logic and strategy, during this event, we have seen her quirk for the first time, and damn that was cool! I’m talking about (F/N) of the hero course!)

You and your opponent stand in front of each other. Meanwhile, your brain is thinking a way to beat that guy without hurting him. It’s a little bothersome but you must stick up with it.

((Y/N), Recovery Girl reported that your hands aren’t in conditions to fight.) Aizawa’s voice brings you back to the field, (And said that you took a few medicines, do you feel to fight anyway?)

“He looks like a jerk but deep inside, Aizawa-sensei is a good and kind person.” moving the hair behind the ear, you reply with a strong nod, <<Yes, don’t worry Erased Head-sensei. I have all under control!>>

(What, you injured?! (Y/N), how?) Mic is too curious and shocked, Recovery Girl reported that to Aizawa only, and not him.

<> you admit touching your neck, <>

(If you’re ok with this, then should we begin? Ready?! Go!)

The hero course student runs at full speed towards the rival, obligating him to attack for defense but the match is converted in a one-way game. The psychic boy uses his quirk to accelerate and reinforce his attacks but they are all futile, they don’t even hit the target. This situation goes for a while, until you stop and wait with your joined hands on the back, that the opponent reaches you.

(Oh, (Y/N) stopped to dodge and play with her enemy! Is she ready to end the match or she is done? Until now, she dodged everything with a majestic agility, her legs were moving so fast that she danced on the ring! Did you take meds? Your body is too elastic and agile to be numbed by them! Anyway, here we are, (name of the student) charges but (Y/N) doesn’t move!! Wait… Does (name of the student) slowing down?)

The girl closes her eyes as a punch is going to hit her, but the rival falls heavily on the ground almost touching your feet.

<<Please, take distance (Y/N).>> Midnight gets off the pedestal to check the adolescent, <<He passed out…>>

“Maybe I went too far?” you stay still and far from your comrade as ordered. “I was careful to not use it too much…” the teacher stands up and points the whip on the woman.

<<(name of the student) is unconscious! (Y/N) advance to the final round!>>

While the entire stadium is cheering for the overwhelming victory, you make a few steps forward and call the heroine.

<<Excuse me ma’am, can I do something about him? It was my power, I can wake him up. May I?>>

<<If it was your quirk, then go ahead.>> the woman steps aside and watch over you while kneeling, rest a hand on the student’s back and free strange purple flames. “Three different forms…”

(Woah, what are those?! A new side of your quirk? (Y/N), how many cards are you still hiding?)

<<It’s a secret.>> flames are absorbed by your rival and after a few seconds, he wakes up, <<Are you ok? I apologize, I went too far.>> even with those injured hands, you offer a help to get up, <<Nice fight.>>

<<You too.>> he stands up and shakes your hand gently, <<Congratulations.>>

(These two are the spirit of this festival!! Look at them, shaking hands friendly! Give them another clapping! Oi mummy hero, say something!)

(What should I say? She never used her hands, still her victory was obvious. We don’t know how her quirk works, so as her future opponents. She charged first to move him and do what she wanted, the rest, I suppose she was using her quirk in an efficient way. (Y/N) fought with logic and strategy. As always.)

—

When you come back to the bleachers, you find Izuku waiting with an opened notebook. You smile and follow him ready to answer all his questions. Iida and Momo are trying to stop him but you first apologize for what happened before, covering yourself with an excuse. Gladly, everyone forgives you laughing and then, they sit in circle.

<<W-what is this?>> you ask a little uncomfortable, <<Maybe do I need to do something to make up?>>

<<(Y/N)-chan can you explain me what happened? Please!>> Izuku is like a leader of a fan club, <<Please!>>

<<That was my third form: Greed.>> she explains, then decides to make everything more interesting, <<But how it works?>> she touches Midoriya and he drops the pen, <<Make your guess.>> with the other hand, she evokes the purple flame from before, but this time is so tiny.

<> whisper Izuku, <<How?>>

<<Can I try it?>> Kirishima stands next to you, <<Thanks- What?!>> he falls on his knees and the flame on your hand increases its volume, <>

<<How about now?>> smiling, the girl touch Eijiro with the fire and it’s absorbed by his body.

<<Oh!>> he jumps up, <<It’s back!>>

<<And you Izuku?>> she does the same with her friend, <<Can you close your hand now?>>

<<This form steals the energy of other people…>> he starts to write down everything, <<If she touches you, the force is stolen and the same amount is converted in purples flames. Your body is unable to move due to the huge lack of energy and when the flames are absorbed by your own body, the strength you’ve lost is back.>> he stops and looks at you, <<What was its name? I forgot, I was too focused to understand how it worked.>>

<<Greed.>> every time, every time he enters in this mode, it always makes you smile.

<<Greed, the name it’s perfect for- Ah, then the two forms you used in the cavalry battles?>>

<<This is my second form, Lust.>> you touch the ground and the flames freeze everything until you retire them, <<As you saw, it keeps going until I stop it or turn it off.>>

<>

<<Yes, but I won’t say it until I’m obligated to show them.>> Midoriya finishes to write down his thoughts and asks the last one, the lightning one, <<Fifth form, Melancholy.>> after evoking it, everyone shouts their shock.

<<Are flames and not lighting? What?! How!>>

<<I, I!>> Uraraka stands up proudly and explains how it works, and adds: <<So far, she has always the weaker forms between the seven she ha- Ah, now I remember! You touched the earring! So, this mean that you used a strong one!>>

<<What? Earring? Seven forms? Wait, wait!>> Izuku writes something again and asks for more information.

<<Did you not tell him?>> Tenya and Ochako shake their heads, <<Then, I’ve said it to them, so you guys have the right too. My quirk has seven forms that I keep sealed with this earring. It’s almost impossible for me to controlled all of them at once, so and if I take this off, probably I walk with seven fires all around me.>>

<<Amazing!!>> Midoriya writes again when you stop him on his drawing, <<Did I get it wrong?>> you explain that the seven fires are disposed in a semi-circular way upon your head, <<Oh, like this?>>

<<Yes.>> everyone pushes to see the sketch, <<This is how I look like if I don’t have the earring.>>

<<You idiot woman.>> and then Bakugou speaks, <<I’m here you know, and now I know most of your secrets. Are you underestimate me? In the finals, I’ll take my revenge.>>

<<I’m hard to take down.>> you reply, <<And you know that I have another four forms to show and use? Don’t get too cocky or you’re gonna end like our last match, yelling angry hero.>>

<<What?! How did you call me? I’ll kick your ass, you fire bitch!>>

<<Hahaha, I wanna see it if you can actually do it.>> he tried to hit you with a surprise punch from behind, but you block it successfully and easily, <<Mph, try next….>> the girl jumps from her seat holding the hand, <<You fuckin’ ugly son a bitch…>> she crouches down, <<It hurts so much, you jackass…. Fuck me, god fucking damn it->>

<<Uhm, (Y/N)-chan, your another personality is out.>> Izuku’s words bring you back, you are not alone!

<<!!>> she closes her mouth with both hands, <<N-no, I didn’t said->>

<<Pff, ahahaha! (Y/N) you’re really the best!>> Kirishima laughs, honestly amused by your reaction, <<Don’t worry, we are used to Bakugou, and you don’t need to hide from us, we are friends!>> those words are a bless for you, no one is afraid by you or your rough personality, this class is like your new home.

<<What a loser!>> Bakugou stands and goes to the stairs next him, when he’s about to say something, he slips on the ice and hits the head, <<Fucking fuck!>>

<<Watch your step…>> you’re hiding your laugh so hard, <<Izuku don’t laugh!>> everyone is doing the same, that scene was priceless.

<<You motherfucker!>> Katsuki is stopped by your smile, it’s too sly, what else did you do, <<What!>>

<<Nothing.>>

<<Stupid bitch!>> he turns his heel and walks away, without notice that his pants have a modify on the back zone.

<<(Y/N)-chan that was…>> Izuku is trying his best to not cry and laugh at the same time, so your friends. See Bakugou’s underwear was priceless, first the epic fall and then the big humiliation.

Quite evil for someone who aims to be a hero.

—Continue…

Chapter 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 21.5, 22, 22.5, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, Last Chapter

#todoroki shouto #shouto todoroki #midoriya izuku #bnha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #scenarios #bnha scenarios #fanfictions #deku midoriya #anime #manga

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