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fuukonomiko · 6 years

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Secret End

SEND ME A CHARACTER AND AN ENDING

SECRET END- Crack. Come up with the silliest end to your muse’s story as possible.

Fuuko straightened up as the handmaiden pulled the edges of the dress together to button them. They were delicate little pearls that held the silken gown together. They matched the bits that were scattered by design on the front of her outfit.

“You look most ravishing, Mistress Fuuko.” the handmaiden remarked as she started tying the cords that bound the waist together in corset-like fashion.

“Do you think he’ll like it?” she laughed as the women put the finishing touches to her outfit and her hair. The silken strands were bound with delicate white blooms interspersed with lace. Atop her head was a tiara with a veil tucked around it.

“M’Lord would have to be deaf, dumb and blind not too.” another handmaiden laughed as they all stepped back to admire their handiwork.

“Some days I wonder if he is one of those indeed.” she sighed, giggling along with them .

They didn’t have very long to gush about the Goddess as her champion, Vico di Vieri stepped in to collect her.

“Furio is rather upset he isn’t the one you chose to do this, Mistress.” the former Blood Angel spoke as he offered his arm for her to take.

“You won the coin toss fair and square. He should know by now it wasn’t personal.” she snorted as they walked arm in arm down the long, flower decorated hallway.

“Furio can be a little drama queen when he wants to be.” Vico chuckled.

“Ten thousand years has not changed him one bit.”

Their conversation was cut short when they reached the end of the hall of the Eternal Vaults. Fuuko closed her eyes, taking a breath before smiling genuinely as the doors parted.

“Are you ready, m’Lady?” Vico asked.

“As ready as I will ever be.”

The music was brought upon the Goddess’ personal string quartet with Drogon at the helm. Passionately they delivered the sound of the Wedding March as their queen of the warp glided in tune to the song, every step in tandem with the rhythm.

On either aisle sat the members of both her and her future spouse’s legion, dressed in their Sunday’s finest, rabidly cheering on as she made it one more step closer to her betrothed.

“Somehow I fear what occurs on your honeymoon, m’Lady.” Vico cleared his throat. “I mean…”

She pinched him lightly with the hand she had on his arm. “We’ve already had a trial run, Vico.” she gave him a side-eyed glance. “I don’t understand why Slaanesh has been christened The Prince of Pleasure….if so then my fiance is likely the King of it.” she giggled as her champion turned red at her implication.

The Goddess’ champion shifted his gaze downward, his face still a bright crimson. “I suppose that was the caterwauling I heard the other day.”

“Why Vico, are you eavesdropping on me?”

“M’Lady it’s hard not to, your…erm…noises made it through several feet of wall.”

She shot him a dirty look as he released her hand to give it to her groom. Fuuko smiled warmly at the Chaos God who nodded at her knowingly. Together they faced Primarch Lorgar Aurelian, as he set forth the beginning of the nuptials for which he was to administer.

“You look quite smashing, my siren of the Great Ocean.” he whispered to her.

“Why thank you, my God of War and Destruction.” she murmured back. “You look rather fetching yourself.”

“I will smash you later when this unnecessary reception is over.”

“Now, now, we can’t be destroying tables again.”

“The only thing I want to destroy is your wedding dress…”

“Ah, ah, be careful my future husband. We need to be powering me, not Slaanesh.”

The Lord of Skulls snarled under his breath. “Fine.” He paused to listen to Lorgar before speaking again. “Why did we not do this sooner….”

“We have an eternity to smash darling, especially when our enemy is vanquished.” Fuuko patted his hand reassuringly. “Two Gods are certainly better than one.”

“To the annihilation of the Imperium of Man.” he squeezed her hand affectionately.

“Touche.”

DID SOMEONE SAY CRACK ENDING?

@pholcidae @wearetheblacklegion @shadow-jack @msjedimaster @aramis-dagaz

#Anonymous #warhammer 40k #warhammer 30k #goddess of Chaos #Fuuko #Fuuko no Miko #Fuuko no Megami

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ask-ickle-mod · 7 years

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“...what?”

Another commission done, this time for @aramis-dagaz of a pretty pregnant Ickle helping Penwright plan out some key parts of his next story. It’s been a while since I drew these two but it feels nice! <3

#Penwright #Ickle Muse #commission #mlp oc #fluff #commissions #mod art

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wearetheblacklegion · 7 years

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Eternal Keepers-Pt 2?

More fun drabbles about our sixth Chaos deity and her followers The ritual of passage was almost complete but Icarus was impatient. The lord of the Eternal Keepers paced the stone floors of the ancient ruins, silently urging his sorcerers to work faster. The coven of four were chanting in a language long forgotten, tracing sigils upon the wall in ink distilled from the blood of neverborn. At his back were four warriors and a small mob of their slaves/auxiliaries-mortals. Three of the warriors were clad in the red and white armor of their previous allegiance, the Blood Ravens, all loyal warriors who had stood by him during and since their throwing off the shackles of the Imperium. But the fourth was another story, clad in the darker red of the Word Bearers. Icarus had never fully trusted Decius, even though he had been to one to enlighten the Astartes to the ways of the Goddess. There was something shifty about the son of Lorgar, a manner which swung between the utter clarity of a scholar and the raving of a madman. But Icarus was drawn from his thoughts by the distinct sound of chimes and a pull on his very soul. Before him the sorcerers had succeeded and where once there had been a wall there is stood a massive adamantium door. The door was covered in all manner of inscriptions in arcane runes and long dead languages. Had he been able to read them he would have known they detailed the rise of a deity. The door creaked open and Icarus stepped through the warp gateway into the Eternal Vaults. The endless corridors of the realm of the youngest goddess might have been confusing to all others but not to those of the Eternal Keepers. They knew every step, every turn, and every door to their destination. As they passed through a collection encompassing until millennia the air buzzed with Curator demons, the impish figures ignoring the newcomers as they carried out their eternal duties of cataloging and organizing. Decius seemed utterly fascinated with the demons and chased them about like a child chasing butterflies till Icarus threatened to drag him onward. Finally they came to their destination, stepping through yet another set of doors and filing into a large chamber illuminated by a number of arcane glowlamps. Dominating the center of the chamber was a throne seeming forged from constantly shifting materials. At one moment it was pure silver, then it was oak, then it was ivory. Seated upon the throne was the Goddess herself. She radiated a kind of warmth that overflowed the confines of the chamber, her very presence filling those gathered with such joy and awe that they felt the urge to weep. Many of the mortals did so, tears of joy and wonder falling from their eyes as they threw themselves prostrate upon the floor. Icarus and his Astartes however were made of sterner stuff, though equally effected, and all dropped to one knee while clenching a fist to breastplate in salute. When Icarus spoke his voice trembled from simply being in her presence. "My goddess, we have returned and we have brought the items you commanded of us. I humbly offer them now." With a barked order the mortals hauled forward the heavy metal boxes they had been carrying and opened them. The powdered bones of a long dead Imperial saint, the tears of a neverborn, the living skull of a child dead for three millennia, and the souls of massacred planet trapped within a fist sized ruby. These were the items they were commanded to retrieve and they had scoured the known galaxy in their quest to find them. Icarus was still kneeling with his head bowed so he did not see so much as felt the Goddess smile and it was a greater feeling than he had ever known. When she spoke he hung onto every word, committing the honor of hearing each syllable to memory. "You have done well Icarus. I am pleased." Brimming with Awe and pride, he risked an upward glance. As always, the sight of the Goddess was beyond mortal words to describe and tore his breath away. But the sight of the individual at her side soured his bliss. Icarus locked gazes with Vico, Champion of the Goddess, favored above all, and his heart seethed. The former Blood Angel stood at the side of a goddess, proud and noble not even wearing his power armor, his blonde hair shining in the light. Icarus hated him, hated him more than he had ever hated everything. He hated Vico because he also wanted that honor, the favor of the goddess, to be looked upon as her favorite. None were more committed to her service than the Eternal Keepers but it was a son of Sanguinius who held her highest honor rather than they. Were he a less intelligent man or perhaps a follower of the other gods he would have considered murdering Vico. But he dared not, for to even think of such things was to risk the goddess' wrath and displeasure. Instead he would serve, as he always had. One day the Blood Angel would slip up, would fail, would be case out and Icarus would be there to watch. With a flick of her wrist Curator demons poured in and snatched the presented items, carting them off to unknown places. The Goddess rose from her seat, addressing all in attendance. "You have all done well. Vico, attend my malcontent servents and obtain the location. Icarus, Decius, return to the material realm and gather my warriors. Very soon the Grixuan Urn will be mine!" The assembled warriors thudded their fists against their breastplates once more. "All! Is! Eternal! For the goddess!" @fuukonomiko @aramis-dagaz

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aramis-dagaz · 5 months

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Here's a sample of The Ashen Crypt, the story I'm working on.

#aramis dagaz's stories #the ashen crypt

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aramis-dagaz · 4 months

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Star Fox: Crew Rest Rekindling a Light in the Dark

Krystal was awake in an instant. She was in Fox’s cabin, lying alongside him pressed against his back. She could feel the dark memories gathering around him like a black fog, the terror and guilt building within and practically creeping up her arm as she held him close in her sleep. Another nightmare. Of what, Krystal could only guess, but it felt similar to those of previous nights.

She gently shook him. He remained asleep, though restless. Whatever he was dreaming of had a stranglehold on him. Any further attempts to wake him physically would only result in a potentially violent though unintended reaction, which was undesirable for a multitude of reasons.

Thankfully, Krystal had other means available to her.

She gently laid her hand along his temple, the tempest within his mind sending a numbing chill up her arm. She responded with a gentle wave of warmth, pushing back against the roiling clouds. They refused to budge, sharp spikes of guilt shredding all they came into contact with, but still she persisted, slowly, gently, relentlessly. The outer edges of the storm began to melt away, a gradual process that gained momentum until she felt safe enough to make one final push. The darkness yielded before her touch, and she spoke a silent command before it could reform.

Wake up.

Fox’s breathing changed noticeably, but not violently. Krystal pulled back mentally but kept her arms wrapped around him, holding him close as he awoke. She could sense his initial disorientation until his senses told him where he was.

“Krystal?” he said quietly.

“I’m here.”

He sighed wearily, one of his hands closing around hers. “Another one, it seems.”

“Yes.”

He was silent for a moment, his fingers intertwining with hers. Shame, embarrassment, guilt, and shattered remnants of terror and horror swirled slowly around him like cursed moons over a blighted world. Left alone, they would prevent any escape, even though Fox was never one to give up trying. With enough effort, perhaps he could. But the repeated nightmares kept wearing on him, making it harder each time.

But only if he went it alone. Krystal gently nuzzled the back of his neck, hoping to remind him that he didn’t have to.

Fox squeezed her hand. “Thank you,” he said.

“Of course,” she replied. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He quietly groaned, and she felt his defenses rise. Even after two years together, Fox was reluctant to show any vulnerability. She didn’t blame him. He had many enemies, fought countless battles, and was the rock upon which so many depended whether they consciously realized it or not. There were very few he could turn to for advice, to show weakness to. When predators circled from all directions, real or imagined, one dared not expose their throat by accident, let alone intentionally.

But walls entrapped just as easily as they protected, and Fox had built many, many walls. Even she had difficulty navigating them when he tried to make himself open to her. She wasn’t sure if he knew how to escape them himself.

But still she tried. She couldn’t stand to see him suffer, not while she could help. She loved him too much not to.

Finally Fox rose and sat at the edge of the bed. He kept the lights off, the starry field from the viewscreen providing enough light to see by. Fox preferred the dark when he was feeling lost, especially in the quiet hours of his off time. Krystal sat by him, her hand on his as he sorted through his thoughts and emotions.

“It was about Fara,” he said after a long while. Krystal had a good idea what he dreamt about, but stayed silent, letting him speak at his own pace. Her hand gently squeezed his in quiet encouragement.

“Rather, it was about her dea–when she died. When Shears killed her.” He inhaled sharply, anger joining the swirling clouds around him. “I couldn’t do anything. Nothing but watch her die.” His hands gripped the bedsheets and he looked away. “You know this part already,” he sighed.

“And you still feel guilt over it, even though you couldn’t do anything,” Krystal said.

“You’re right, of course. If only–” He shook his head. “No, no woulda-coulda-shouldas. I’d be at it all night.” His body tensed as he fought to hold back tears. “I’d…I’d hoped that killing Shears would’ve done, well, something. It wouldn’t bring her back, but maybe bring some sense of closure. And yet here I am, seemingly no different than before.”

“Wounds do heal, but some are so terrible that they never truly go away,” Krystal said, tracing a finger along one of Fox’s scars on his arm, a reminder of a close encounter with a Sharpclaw’s teeth. “Fara was, and still is, very important to you. You were grievously wounded that day, though not physically. You wouldn’t expect a soldier who lost a limb in battle to regrow it over time by sheer will, would you? Not even after ten, twenty years?”

Fox shook his head. “No, I suppose not. That would be ridiculous.”

Krystal placed her hand over Fox’s heart. “Then you shouldn’t expect any more from yourself.”

“Easier said than done,” he grunted. “Everyone looks up to me to lead this outfit.”

“Everyone also supports you,” she countered. “We’re not mere subordinates, we’re your friends. I don’t think any of us would be here if we weren’t.”

Fox looked away. Guilt and anger grew stronger. “There was…something else that happened in the nightmare. Something I hadn’t dreamt of for a while.”

Krystal rested her hand on his shoulder, waiting for him to continue.

“I…I was angry at Slippy. Extremely angry. I shot at him, screaming at him, blaming him for Fara’s death. If only he worked on getting her Arwing working again before mine, she might still be alive.” He stopped, his breath catching in his throat. “I…I think I really wanted to kill him, much like how I wanted to kill Shears.”

“Do you blame Slippy for Fara’s death?”

“No! I–” Fox trembled and pressed his face into his hands, his fingers clutching at his head and palms grinding into his eyes. Krystal could smell tears as the guilt clawed at him viciously. “No, Slippy didn’t kill Fara. He isn’t responsible. He did what he could. He’s the reason why I’m still alive. Why Falco and Peppy are still alive. But if he fixed Fara’s ship first…”

“Then you’d likely be dead.”

“I know!” He growled at himself and lowered his voice. “I know.” A strangled sob escaped his throat and he rested his elbows on his knees, his head buried in his hands. “I can’t blame him. He blames himself enough as it is, and he shouldn’t. He really shouldn’t.”

Krystal recalled the daggers of guilt that still tormented Slippy, how he wept when he finally told her about that day. He was much better now, but every now and then the wound gets torn open. It was one of the few things he dared not talk to Fox about.

Fox sniffed and sat back up, trying to hold himself together. Krystal slid next to him and pulled him into a hug, resting her head on his shoulder. He leaned his head against hers. With such physical contact, the cloud of pain surrounding him felt like a fierce sandstorm against her skin, but she held him regardless.

“One more reason to be glad Shears is dead,” Fox muttered darkly. “He’s trying to get me to turn against my friends.”

“But you know your friends better than he ever did,” she replied. “Even if that was his intention, he wouldn’t have succeeded.”

“Damn right he wouldn’t.” He sighed. “Bastard is going to haunt me beyond the grave, isn’t he?”

“Only if you let him.”

“Then I won’t. He’s dead and that’s the end of it.” Krystal felt him forcibly shove the thought from his mind with a sensation reminiscent a large boulder being pushed aside. It still left deep tracks in its wake, but for now the way was clear.

Anger simmered down to frustration, the guilt and shame directed inwards. “Thank you,” he said, his voice low.

“Anytime, Fox.”

“You shouldn’t have to put up with this,” he sighed.

Krystal tightened her hug sharply enough to get his attention. “I don’t ‘put up with’ anything, McCloud. I do this because I love you and believe that you deserve happiness.”

He snorted with mirthless laughter. “Just your luck you fell in love with a guy as damaged as me.”

“And yet you’re still capable of and have done amazing things. We’ve flown in ships that had all manner of problems and still managed to make them work with some care. People are no different.”

A jocular bubble hovered just beneath the surface, wanting, no, demanding to escape, to be heard, but she felt him shove it back down. She grinned and lightly dug her claws into his side. “Care to tell me what that double-entendre was, Fox?”

“No,” he said in a failing attempt at an annoyed deadpan response. “Get out of my head.”

“I could hear it through even that thick skull of yours.”

“Oh really?” he replied with a half-grin. “Then perhaps you can tell me which one it was.”

Krystal placed both her hands on his shoulder and rested her chin on them. “Do you really want me to tell you how predictable you can be?”

“Careful there, you’re almost going to make me laugh.”

She smiled deviously at him. “Don’t blame me, your dirty sense of humor is what’s ruining your bad mood.”

He turned towards her, his eyes looking her up and down. “You just bring out the worst in me, lady.”

“That’s not particularly difficult,” she chuckled and rested her cheek on his shoulder again, holding him close. The dark clouds still surrounded him, though the guilt, shame, and anger were disrupted, shattered into a field of debris that left him in a persistent twilight instead of plunging him into deep shadows. Left on their own, they would likely reform back into looming shards of pain and guilt, potentially blocking out the warmth and light of those around him. Even the walls Fox built around him could be just as hindering, leaving him unaware of his friends outside trying to help.

But not all light needed to be external, especially in this case.

Krystal inhaled deeply, taking in his familiar if anxiety-tinged scent and giving him a gentle squeeze. "Tell me a happy memory about Fara,” she said.

"Most women don't like to hear about their boyfriend’s previous girlfriends,” Fox chuckled wryly. Though spoken in jest, there was an undercurrent of wariness. The walls around him shifted ever so slightly into a stronger formation.

“She is very important to you, and helped shape you into what you are today,” Krystal explained. “I don't mind knowing a bit more about her, make her more than a name and picture on the memorial wall.”

“I…suppose that’s true. I guess I keep forgetting that there’s a lot you don’t know about her.”

Shards of guilt continued to reform around him. Krystal was having none of that.

“Sometimes it seems like I’ve always been here,” she said, hoping to assuage his guilt.

Fox chuckled with little mirth but not without warmth. “Yeah, seems like it.” He was quiet for a moment, glancing towards the starry field on the viewscreen. “Sorry, it’s a bit strange to me, being asked about the dead like this.”

“It's very common among the Earthwalkers and Thorntails,” Krystal replied. “To them, the dead are still part of the herd and are treated as such, even if they aren't among them physically.”

A bubble of amusement rose within Fox. "I guess that makes sense, though 'part of the herd' isn't a phrase I'd attribute to her."

“No, from what I’ve heard that doesn’t seem like Fara at all.” Krystal gave Fox another gentle squeeze. “Please, elaborate. I’m sure you know plenty of examples.”

The clouds darkened, leaving a weariness much like clouds of ash bringing on an unseasonable chill on the lands below. “I’m sure you’ve picked up quite a bit from me already.”

“Not as much as you think, Fox. I don’t pry. Besides–” She pulled away and turned to sit facing him. “–I’d much rather hear you tell it. More enjoyable that way.”

Fox hesitated. Lingering grief and sadness made him reluctant to explore old memories, yet she felt those memories wash up on the shore of his consciousness. He wandered among them, looking upon times long gone, some of which he hadn’t seen in a long, long time. Some he glanced at and immediately focused his attention elsewhere in a swirl of mild embarrassment, prudence, and a desire for some things to remain hidden.

Krystal stepped back mentally. This was difficult enough for him, no need to make it more awkward with her looking over his metaphorical shoulder. Even in happier circumstances, it was still rude to peek in on his thoughts like that, and besides, she didn't want to ruin the story for herself.

After examining and setting aside several memories, a glow of mirth illuminated Fox’s consciousness. "Okay, here's a funny one," he said, a mischievous smile growing on his face. "If the Corneria City Police ever knew about this incident, they never would've made her an officer."

As he told the tale, Krystal found she had to agree with his assessment, though she was impressed and even shocked by the sheer audacity he regaled. She couldn't even call it foolhardiness, though it was certainly foolishness that initiated the whole misadventure. How Fox and Fara managed to get away with it would haunt her for a long time to come, especially considering how a crate of Papetoon crickets and ramen were involved, but she had to admit that it was a very amusing story. She found herself wishing, not for the first time, that she could've met Fara; they probably would have been good friends.

More importantly, the dark clouds of guilt and grief surrounding Fox had lessened, driven back by the light of joy and laughter within his heart. They hadn’t disappeared entirely, no amount of happy stories could do that, especially not overnight, but the memory of Fara now evoked a bit more light and happiness than before.

"I'm not sure if I should be appalled or impressed," Krystal said as Fox finished the story.

"If it helps, neither do I," he chuckled.

"Still, thank you for sharing that with me. I feel like I know Fara better."

"She wasn't usually that crazy, but only just. Sorry for talking your ear off."

"Don't be, I enjoyed hearing it. Hopefully that was helpful for you as well."

"A little, I guess. I haven't really thought about her much lately. Didn't want to, honestly. I suppose I only really remember her when I have these nightmares of her...last moments." The dark clouds crept in around him, but just as quickly receded. "It was nice to recall something pleasant for once." He chuckled. "Trying to get me to replace terrible memories with good ones?"

“You said it, not me,” she said with a sly smile. “But yes. She is important to you. Celebrate that and her.”

"If I was in the mood for it I'd be toasting a drink right now." He yawned. "Ugh, I'm exhausted. Guess I'm still limping on a crippled heart."

"Well, it is the middle of the night for us."

"What a time to be running a marathon down the bad side of memory lane. Though I suppose not all that bad."

Krystal leaned in and gave him a light kiss on his cheek. “Then let’s go back to sleep.”

“Yeah, sounds like a great idea.”

They both laid back down on the bed, Krystal nuzzling her face against Fox’s chest. He held her close and gave her a kiss on the top of her head. “Thanks, Krystal. I love you.”

“Anytime, Fox. I love you, too.”

It took a while for Fox to drift back to sleep, his defenses still unwilling to relax due to the guilt and loss that still lingered around him, yet still desperate to feel a warm connection with anyone and focusing that desire into holding Krystal tightly. But soon mental, physical, and emotional fatigue took its toll and he slid back into slumber. Krystal pressed her cheek against Fox’s heart, radiating love and comfort into him. His sleep wouldn’t be entirely untroubled, but he wouldn’t find himself consumed by the shadows of the past either, at least not for tonight.

#stories #aramis dagaz's stories #star fox #star fox: crew rest

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aramis-dagaz · 5 months

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Star Fox: Crew Rest, Part 1

This story takes place one year after the events of Star Fox: Assault and two years before Star Fox Command.

As evening approached the temperature began to drop within the Fichina University Department of Astrosciences building. There was no need to keep the interior any warmer than above freezing as most of the students and faculty had already left for the day. Only a handful stayed behind, using personal space heaters, hot water bottles, and heavy jackets to keep the chill at bay as they continued their work.

Isabelle didn’t notice the cold until her shivering made it difficult to keep typing. She only took a short break to put on her coat and gloves, turn on her space heater, and drink some hot coffee from her thermos, and then it was back to work. There was always a mountain of paperwork in the Dean’s office, from invoices and inter-department communications to student grades and research grant requests. Someone had to make sure the papers were filed, the requests routed, and the daily thrum of mail kept moving, and the pool of secretaries had steadily dwindled since she started working here four months ago. Even with less hands to handle the paperwork, the work itself never stopped.

She didn’t mind, though. It was gratifying to be so useful and busy, so she stayed behind long after the others left and the temperature in the building had dropped. She found that she did some of her best work in the evening, when there were fewer distractions and the incoming flow of work slowed, if only for the night. Plus, no one was around to be bothered by her humming, which helped keep her spirits up.

A knock on the door of her office caused her to nearly drop the stack of papers she was holding. Isabelle wasn’t expecting anyone as the Dean had long ago left for home and most of the professors were also gone for the day. “One moment!” she said, crossing the few feet to her office door. Upon opening it, she was greeted by the sight of a familiar pink-furred rabbit.

“Hi Lucy!” Isabelle said.

"Evening, Izzy!" Lucy looked past her into Isabelle’s crowded office. It was more of a glorified storage closet, stuffed with boxes and stacks of paper, but she didn't mind. So long as she had a desk for her computer and space to store paperwork, that's all she needed. "Still working hard?"

"Oh yes! There are grades to file away, expense accounts to add to the ledger, meeting minutes to transcribe and–"

"Same as always, I see. Have you had dinner yet?"

"No, but I'm okay!” Isabelle replied. “I had a sandwich from the vending machine in the breakroom for lunch today. It was pretty good."

"The ones made from those impossibly thin slices of bread?” Lucy said. “I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. How about we go hit up Leo's? I could really use one of his coffees to perk me up after such a long day."

"Oh, well, I'd love to, but there's still a lot of–"

"C'mon, the work ain't going anywhere. I don't think this place will collapse if you're gone for a couple hours."

"Well, yes, but–"

"My treat," Lucy said. "And they're serving Leo's special tonight."

Isabelle hesitated for a moment. She hated to leave all this work behind, but then again, Leo's was her favorite restaurant. And if Lucy was treating her...

"Okay, let me get my hat and parka. I think the cold air will help energize me a bit."

The early spring air practically hit her in the face the moment she stepped outside. Isabelle quickly tightened her hood, leaving only her eyes and a flash of yellow fur visible. Her entire body shivered as she and Lucy huddled together and practically jogged through the snow to the University metro station. Leo’s was a beloved fixture in the building, offering a nice view of the passing metro trains and Fichina City’s skyline while promising a quick, hot meal for those on the go and a warm place to sit for those with the time to spare.

They both stayed silent until they got their cups of Leo’s finest, as they would barely have been able to get a proper word out until they warmed up and the chattering of their teeth stopped. It was practically a ritual here, with all other concerns put on hold until one was warm and comfortable. Isabelle wasn’t sure if Leo’s coffee was so good because it was so warm after a jaunt through the frigid air or if it was simply that amazing. Probably a mix of both, though she never had a chance to try it otherwise.

“Ah, that hit the spot!” she sighed.

“Yeah, makes it worth the dash through the cold just to get here!” Lucy agreed. “If they ever build that coffee pipeline the engineering students keep talking about every year, I might never leave the Astroscience building.”

“Oh, wouldn’t that be convenient!”

Lucy smirked over her cup. “On second thought, maybe it is a good thing they haven’t gotten around to it. Gives us an excuse to get out of there every now and then.”

“Such a cruel fate. Imagine how much more work I could get done!”

“Yeah, kinda frightening to think about.” After placing their orders for two Leo’s Special, Lucy continued. “So how have you been? We haven’t had much chance to catch up, what with midterms bearing down on us.”

“Yeah, pretty busy, but I’ve been able to stay on top of it,” Isabelle said. “The work hasn’t seemed to let up since Cara and Dachs were let go last month, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“I see,” Lucy said, her gaze not wavering from Isabelle. “Izzy, give it to me straight: when was the last time you went home?”

“Oh! Uh…” Isabelle shrank into herself, though not from the cold this time. “...Last weekend?”

“Izzy!”

“It’s okay, really! The gym showers are not far away from the Astroscience building, and I’m able to get back home to do laundry and make myself meals for the week!”

“It’s a near-literal icebox at night! How do you stand sleeping in there?”

“I have plenty of blankets and the small office warms up pretty quickly. I get so much done this way!”

Lucy buried her face in her hands and sighed. “Izzy, I swear, this department doesn’t deserve you.” She ran her hands through her hair and over her ears, causing them to spring back upright as she stared out the window.

"Look, Izzy,” she said, “there was a reason I wanted to talk with you tonight. I won't sugarcoat it: the University is downsizing."

"Again?"

"Yes, again. And you're on the chopping block this time."

Isabelle blinked in surprise and her breath caught in her throat. "What? Me? Why?"

Lucy scowled out the window in the direction of the University. "The Dean has no idea how much you hold her office together and frankly doesn't care aside from how much the admin staff is costing the department. I tried to fight it and tell her she’s an idiot for even thinking of laying you off, but she’s not interested in what a mere associate professor has to say.” She sighed heavily, weariness crossing her face. “I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but I’d rather you hear it from me now than when the University hands you your severance notice."

"Oh." Isabelle gazed into her coffee, suddenly feeling exhausted. She'd been working at the University for four months, the longest she held onto a job for the past year since Snowpoint was destroyed in the Aparoid War. She hoped that finally she found a place for her after all this time, and she made such good friends while working there. Apparently, it wasn't to be. "Well, I guess it's back to the job search. I'm sure there are companies hiring."

Lucy placed her hand on hers and smiled. "Well, there I have some good news! You remember that my dad works for Star Fox, right?”

The bells in Isabelle’s hair tie jingled as she perked up. “Of course! How can I forget?”

Lucy’s smile grew. “Well you see, with all of the work they've been getting recently between hunting down Androssian and Aparoid remnants and providing security details throughout Lylat, they've been overwhelmed with all of the paperwork. They're pilots, not office workers. Dad complains about it every time I talk to him. So, I can let him know you're looking for a new job. I have no doubts they'll hire you on the spot, and I guarantee you, they will appreciate the work you do and the pay will be a lot better." Her eyes flashed darkly. "I'll make sure of that."

Isabelle felt tears of relief and gratitude welling up in her eyes. "Oh Lucy, how can I ever thank you?"

"No need to thank me, this is the least I can do for all of the hard work and long hours you've done for the department. I can only hope the job makes up for all of the crap you had to put up with over the past six months."

"Oh! Speaking of which, I really should get back! I have to make sure all of my work is finished, the reports are organized, and–"

"Whoa, settle down there for a second," Lucy said, putting a hand on her shoulder. "They're firing you, remember? I don't think you owe them anything. Let’s enjoy our dinner, talk about something other than work, and then you go home and, I dunno, finish reading that novel you've been telling me about. Let me talk to Dad and I'll let you know what he says in the morning, okay?"

Isabelle nodded, her bells ringing merrily. “Okay!”

“Then it’s settled! Now,” Lucy said, her nose twitching mischievously, “since I don’t know when I’ll be able to do this next, let me regale you with the latest inter-departmental drama wracking our fair U of F…”

#star fox #animal crossing #isabelle #star fox: crew rest #stories #aramis dagaz's stories

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