#but i don’t want sympathy i want to have an actual decent quality of life

[ladyshadowqueen]

having a health issue that is affected by medical misogyny sucks because not only is there not enough research but absolutely every single doctor i talk to has a different opinion and absolutely none of them help me in any way

[bigskydreaming]

Like, I am very conscious of the aid people have given me and try not to ask any more than is absolutely necessary because I do not enjoy asking for charity like at ALL. But I am less than a year out from when I had a twenty thousand dollar (out of pocket) surgery to address a longterm disability caused by a gaybashing when I was nineteen and that flared up about seven years ago and caused constant, daily migraines, chronic pain and other issues that limited my ability to work while I spent the next six years doing literally everything I could to save up for that surgery while maintaining an expensive as fuck insurance plan that was the only option for getting the surgery DOWN to that ‘manageable’ price tag in the first place. Between that and the costs of just staying alive for those six years, even with e-begging and lots of help from people, I wiped out every cent of my savings and put myself in massive debt and tanked my credit as that was the literal only way I could afford that surgery and regain a decent quality of life. I STILL don’t even have fucking TEETH because every single one had to be pulled in order to do the surgery since to realign my jaw properly, I needed an even bite and after years of destroying my teeth every time I used one side of my face and one side only to do my best to chew and eat food, pulling every single one of my teeth and getting as-literally-cheap-as-possible-dentures instead of trying to repair my teeth first was quite literally the only real option without further dragging out the surgery timeline because I was basically bedridden by the time I actually did get it. After years without being able to work regularly, my ability to go back to my old careers are basically nil and I’ll have to start over from scratch - when I can even afford to - as in the meanwhile, my job options were limited by having a years out of date resume and pretty much all of my paycheck does go to managing my debt, trying to rebuild my credit, and basic cost of living while scrounging together pennies to try and save up now for the many bone graft surgeries I’ll need if I ever want to get teeth implants instead of relying on dentures for the next several decades. So yeah, I ask for help, mostly just when I don’t have money left over for food or the couple hundred dollars I spend monthly in meds because lmao, my various neurodivergencies don’t really help with all of that and I literally can’t afford to go off my meds or miss my regular schedule with them without risking everything I HAVE managed to pull together in terms of routine and income-generating ability.

So do I enjoy e-begging? Fuck no. Am I constantly trying to figure out better ways to supplement my income? Hell yeah. I’ve been trying to put together things like a patreon where people actually get something in exchange for money sent my way, for like, months and months but when I’m not working I’m fucking exhausted because grinding nonstop for six years through constant chronic pain and stress with zero days off will do that to a guy, and I haven’t exactly been able to kick back and enjoy myself even since the surgery. 

And I do my best not to put shit like that on my posts and just keep things to the bare minimum because not only do I not love dwelling on all that, I’m genuinely not trying to guilt people into anything or play the sympathy or pity card because when you used to pride yourself on being independent and self-reliant pretty much from the age of ten because your family taught you from an early age not to rely on anyone but yourself, it’d take even more therapy than I have now to actually be okay with the fact that I’d probably be dead by now without the kindness of internet strangers having helped me stay alive at times when I hadn’t eaten in days because I was busy keeping a roof over my head instead.

But sure, random internet anons - my little post about asking for $5 or $10 is an attempt to make people feel bad about getting blue checkmarks or their financials in general, as opposed to whatever that was.

[borisbubbles]

Character analysis: Vivienne de Fer (Dragon Age Inquisition)

So, if you’ve wondered where I popped off to the past two months or so, I’m going to give you an answer - I finally bought Dragon Age Inquisition (legit on my gaming wishlist since its 2014 release) and I’ve been obsessed with it ever since. 

The main draw to this game however, isn’t so much the gameplay (if you want a game that feels similar but has better gameplay - Assassin’s Creed Odyssey is what you’d want instead), but the storytelling and particularly the character development are top notch. All nine companions are fascinating and fleshed out in such a realistic manner I’m still gasping in awe on my fifth playthrough.  Thus, a post on it is in order. It’s a bit different from my usual content, but don’t let that discourage you - clearing my head from Dragon Age will allow me to let Eurovision back in and continue my unfinished 2020 ranking.  In this post, I will be analyzing one of DAI’s most interesting characters - none other than Madame de Fer herself, Vivienne.  Now, I’m under the impression that this is a rather unpopular opinion but I absolutely love Vivienne. And no, I won’t apologize for it. As a Templar-thumping elitist with a icy, sardonic demeanor the sheer ‘Idea Of A Vivienne’ is meant to make your head spin. Dragon Age has always been a franchise in which mages are a socially surpressed group and to be confronted with a socially confident enchantress who likes Templars and seemingly supports the social shunning out of her own ambition is the walking embodiment of flippancy. 

and yet, I feel a lot of sympathy for Vivienne. 

Yes, she’s a bitch. She knows she’s one and she’s a-ok with it. I won’t argue with that. Sadly, the “Vivienne is a bitch” rhetoric also drastically sells her short. Vivienne is highly complex and her real personality is as tragic as it is twisted. 

Madame de Fer

So let’s start with what we are shown on the surface. Vivienne is a high-ranking courtier from an empire notable for its deadly, acid-laced political game. She seemingly joins the Inquisition for personal gain, to acrue reputation and power, and eventually be elected Divine (= female pope) at the end of the game. She presents herself as a despicable blend of Real Housewife, Disney Villain, and Tory Politician, all rolled into one ball of sickening, unctuous smarm. Worse, the Inquisitor has no way to rebuke Vivienne’s absurd policies and ideas. You can’t argue with her, convince her to listen to your differing viewpoints or even kick her out the Inquisition. She has a way with words where she can twist arguments around in such a fashion that she lands on top and makes the other person look like the irrational party.

“Thus speaks the Inquisitor who has made so many mature and level-headed choices so far. Such as releasion malcontents upon the population without safeguards to protect them should they turn into abominations. Very wise. I rearranged some furniture. Lives aren’t thrown into jeopardy by my actions. Perhaps a little perspective is needed.”

She’s Cersei Lannister on creatine, Dolores Umbridge on motherfucking roids. If you look at merely the surface, then yes, Vivienne looks like the worst person ever created. I love a good anti-villainess however, and she’s definitely one. 

Yet, she never actually does anything ‘evil’? Yes, she is ‘a tyrant’ as a Divine, but 1) the person saying this is Cassandra, whose dislike for mage freedom is only matched by her dislike of being sidelined 2) Divine Vivienne isn’t bad to mages either? (hold that thought, I’ll get to it). She never actually sabotages the Inquisition, no matter how low her approval with the Inquisitor gets. She never attempts to stop them, no matter how annoyed she is. She’s one of the most brutally honest companions in the cast, in fact. (It always surprises me people call her a ‘hypocrite’ - you keep using that word and it doesn’t mean what you think it means.) The ‘worst’ display of character is when she attempts to break up Sera and the Inquisitor and even then - are we going to pretend Sera isn’t a toxic, controlling girlfriend with a huge chip on her shoulder? I love Sera, but come on.  

Vivienne is a character where the storytelling rule of Show, Don’t Tell is of vital importance. The Orlesian empire is an empire built around posturing and reputation. Nobody really shows their true motivations or character, and instead builds a public façade. It’s like how the Hanar (the Jellyfish people) in Mass Effect have a Public name they use in day-to-day life, and a Personal Name for their loved-ones and inner circle. Vivienne’s ‘Public Visage’ is that of Madame de Fer - this is the Vivienne who openly relishes in power, publicly humiliates grasping anklebiters with passive-aggressive retorts, the woman who is feared and loathed by all of Orlais, and this is the Face you see for most of the game.

The real beauty of Vivienne’s character and the reason why I love her as much as I do (which is to say - a LOT) are the few moments when - what’s the phrase DigitalSpy love so much - Her Mask Slips, and you get a glimpse of the real woman underneath the hennin.

This is the Vivienne who stands by you during the Siege of Haven and approves of you when you save the villagers from Corypheus’s horde.

This is the Vivienne who comforts you when you lament the losses you suffered.

This is the Vivienne who admires you for setting an example as a mage for the rest of Thedas.

This is the Vivienne who worries about Cole’s well-being during his personal quest, momentarily forgetting who or what he is. 

This is the Vivienne who, when her approval for the Inquisitor reaches rock bottom, desperately reminds him of the suffering mages go through on a day-to-day basis because of the fear and hatred non-mages are bred to feel towards them and how this can spiral into more bloodshed without safeguards. 

This is the Vivienne who shows how deep her affection for Bastien de Ghislain truly is, by bringing you along during his dying moments. I love this scene btw. This is the only moment in the entire game where Vivienne is actually herself in the presence of the Inquisitor - needless to say, I consider anyone who deliberately spikes her potion a motherfucking psychopath ^_^)

“There is nothing here now” fuck I *almost* cried at Vivienne, get out of my head BioWare, this is WRONG -- people who delude themselves this is an irredeemable character. 

So, who is Vivienne really?

Understanding Vivienne requires recognizing that the mask and the real woman aren’t the same person. I think her relationship with Dorian is the prime example of this. I love the Vivienne/Dorian banter train, obviously - an unstoppable force of sass colliding with an unmovable wall of smarm is nothing short of a spectacle. However, there’s more to it than their highly entertaining snipes. As the incredibly gifted son of a magister, Dorian represents everything Vivienne should despise, and should be a natural enemy to her. And yet, she doesn’t and he isn’t.. Their gilded japes at each other are nothing more than verbal sparring, not dissimilar to how Krem and Iron Bull call each other names when they beat each other with sticks. In what I think is one of the most brilliantly written interactions between characters in DAI, I present Vivienne’s reaction when the Inquisitor enters a romance with Dorian:

Vivienne: I received a letter the other day, Dorian. Dorian: Truly? It's nice to know you have friends. 🙄 Vivienne: It was from an acquaintance in Tevinter expressing his shock at the disturbing rumors about your... relationship with the Inquisitor. Dorian: Rumors you were only too happy to verify, I assume. 🙃 Vivienne: I informed him the only disturbing thing in evidence was his penmanship. 🙂 Dorian: ...Oh. Thank you. 😳 Vivienne: I am not so quick to judge, darling. See that you give me no reason to feel otherwise.

Madame de Fer can never be seen directly expressing approval to a relationship between the Herald of Andraste and an ‘Evil’ Tevinter ’Magister’. By this subtle, subtle conversation, Vivienne indirectly tells Dorian that she considers him a good match for the Inquisitor and approves of the romance. It’s one of those reasons why I could never truly dislike Vivienne - between the layers of elegant poison lies a somewhat decent woman who never loses sight of the bigger picture. Not a good person maybe, but not one without some redeeming qualities.

The crux of Vivienne’s personality is that she, like all DAI companions, is a social outcast. She’s a mage in a fantasy setting where mages are psionically linked to demons, and grew up in a country where the majority religion has openly advocated the shunning and leashing of mages (’Magic exists to serve man’ - the Chantry is so, so vile in this game.). Vivienne’s “gift” was discovered so early in her life that she can barely remember her parents. Vivienne grew up in a squalid boarding school, learning from a young age that she’s dangerous and her talents need to be tamed and curbed. She is also terrified of demons, as her banters with Cole point out:

Cole: You're afraid. You don't have to be. Vivienne: My dear Inquisitor, please restrain your pet demon. I do not want it addressing me. Inquisitor: He's not doing any harm, Vivienne. Vivienne: It's a demon, darling. All it can do is harm. Cole: Everything bright, roar of anger as the demon rears. No, I will not fall. No one will control me ever again. Cole: Flash of white as the world comes back. Shaking, hollow, Harrowed, but smiling at templars to show them I'm me. Cole: I am not like that. I can protect you. If Templars come for you, I will kill them. Vivienne: Delightful. 😑

Vivienne’s Harrowing is implied to have been such a traumatizing event to her that she’s developed a pavlovian fear of demons ever since. (Hence her hostility towards Cole.). Vivienne is fully aware of the inherent dangers of magic, and projects this onto all other mages. 

Besides, given how Dragon Age has a history with mages doing all sorts of fucked up shit, ranging from blood magic, murder, demonic possession and actual terrorism (yes, *ElthinaBITCH* had it coming, but let’s not pretend like Anders/Justice was anything other than a terrorist), Vivienne’s policies of controlled monitoring and vigilance are actually significantly more sensible than the options of ‘unconditionally freeing every mage all over Thedas’ and ‘reverting back to the status quo before the rebellion’. They’re flawed policies, obviously. When Vivienne says “mages” she pictures faceless silhouettes foremost and not herself. Regardless, unlike Cassandra and Leliana, Vivienne is aware of the fear others harbour for her kind, and how hard it is to overcome such perceptions.  

Additionally, Vivienne’s a foreigner. She is an ethnic Rivaini, a culture associated with smugglers and pirates (Isabela from DAO and DA2 is half-Rivaini). This adds an additional social stigma, again pointed out by Cole:

Cole: Stepping into the parlor, hem of my gown snagged, no, adjust before I go in, must look perfect. Vivienne: My dear, your pet is speaking again. Do silence it. Cole: Voices inside. Marquis Alphonse. Cole: "I do hope Duke Bastien puts out the lights before he touches her. But then, she must disappear in the dark." Cole: Gown tight between my fingers, cold all over. Unacceptable. Wheels turn, strings pull. Cole: He hurt you. You left a letter, let out a lie so he would do something foolish against the Inquisition. A trap. Vivienne: Inquisitor, as your demon lacks manners, perhaps you could get Solas to train it.

This is the only palpable example of the casual racism Vivienne has to endure on a daily basis - Marquis Alphonse is a stupid, bigoted pillowhead who sucks at The Game, but remember - Vivienne only kills him if the Inquisitor decides to be a butthurt thug. She is aware that for every Alphonse, there are dozens of greasy sycophants who think exactly like he does, and will keep it under wraps just to remain in her good graces. 

Finally, there’s the social position Vivienne manufactured for herself, which is the weak point towards her character imo. Remember, this woman is a commoner by birth. She doesn’t even have a surname. Through apparently sheer dumb luck (or satanic intervention) she basically fell into the position of Personal Mage to the Duke of Ghislain. Regardless, ‘Personal mages’ were the rage in Orlesian nobility, and the prestigious families owned by them like one may own a pet or personal property. By somehow becoming Bastien de Ghislain’s mistress and using his influence, "Madame de Fer” liberated herself from all the social stigmata which should have pinned her down into a lowly courtier rank and turned the largely ceremonial office of “Court Enchanter” into a position of respect and power. This is huge move towards mage emancipation by the way, in a society where, again, Mages are feared and shunned and are constantly bullied, emasculated and taught to hate their talents. Vivienne is a shining example of what mages can become at the height of their power. Power she has, mind you, never actually abused before her Divine election. Vivienne’s actions will forever be under scrutiny not because of who she is, but because of what she is. The Grand Game can spit her out at any moment, which will likely result in her death. 

Inquisitor: “You seem to be enjoying yourself, Vivienne?” Vivienne: “It’s The Game, darling. If I didn’t enjoy it, I’d be dead by now.”

Whether Vivienne was using Bastien for her own gain or whether she truly loved him isn’t a case of or/or. It’s a case of and/and. The perception that she was using Bastien makes Vivienne more fearsome and improves her position in the Grand Game, but deep down, I have no doubts truly loved him. Remember, Vivienne’s position at the Orlesian court was secure. She had nothing to gain by saving Bastien’s life, but she attempted to anyway. That Bastien’s sister is a High Cleric doesn’t matter - Vivienne can be elected Divine regardless of her personal quest’s resolution. She loved him, period. 

No, I don’t think Vivienne is a good person. She treats those she deems beneath her poorly, like Sera, Solas, Cole and Blackwall (characters I like less than Vivienne), which I think is the #1 indicator for a Bad Personality. But I don’t think she qualifies as ‘Evil’ either and I refuse to dismiss the beautiful layering of her character. I genuinely believe Vivienne joined the Inquisition not just for her personal gain, but also out of idealism, similar to Dorian (again, Cole is 100% correct in pointing out the similarities between Dorian’s and Vivienne’s motivations for joining, as discomforting it is to her). 

In her mind, Vivienne sees herself as the only person who can emancipate the mages without bloodshed - her personal accomplishments at the Orlesian court speak for themselves. Vivienne isn’t opposed to mage freedom - she worries for the consequences of radical change, as she believes Orlesian society unprepared for the consequences. Hence why she’s perfectly fine with a Divine Cassandra. Hence why her fellow mages immediately elect her Grand Enchanter of the new Circle. 

Hence why Vivienne is so terrified by the Inquisitor’s actions if her disapproval gets too low. The Inquisitor has the power to completely destroy everything she has built and fought for during her lifetime. Remember: Vivienne’s biggest fear is irrelevance - there’s no greater irrelevance than having your life achievements reverse-engineered by the accidental stumbling of some upstart nobody. This is the real reason why she joins, risks her life and gets her hands dirty - the only person whose competence Vivienne trusts, is Vivienne’s own. 

Even as Divine Victoria, I’d say she’s not bad, at all actually. Vivienne has the trappings of an an Enlightened Despot, maintaining full control, while simultaneously granting mages more responsibility and freedom, slowly laying the foundations to make mages more accepted and less persecuted in southern Thedas. Given that Ferelden is a feudal fiefdom and Orlais is an absolute monarchy, this is a fucking improvement are you kidding me. (Wait did he just imply Vivienne is secretly the best Divine - hmm, probably not because Cass/Leliana have better epilogues - but realistically speaking, yes, Viv should be the best Divine and it’s bullshit that the story disagrees.) 

Underneath the countless layers of smarm, frost and seeming callousness, lies a fiercely intelligent and brave woman, whose ideals have been twisted into perversion by the cruel, ungrateful world around her. Envy her for her ability to control her destiny, but know that envy is what it is.  

The flaw in Vivienne’s character isn’t so much the ‘tyranny’ or the ‘bitchiness’ or the 'smarm’. Her flaw is her false belief that she is what the mages need the most. Her belief that her competence gives her the prerogative to serve the unwashed mage masses... by ruling over them. For all intents and purposes, Vivienne is an Orlesian Magister and this will forever be the brilliant tragedy of her character. She was created by a corrupt institution that should, by all accounts fear and loathe her but instead embraced her. It’s that delirious irony that makes Vivienne de Fer one of the best fictional characters in RPG history.  the next post will be Eurovision-related. :-) 

[mc-critical]

Hello! Hope you're having a good day

I have a question about mck. I haven't watched it but I've seen a lot of cuts from episodes on youtube and fan's discussions so I hoped you might explain something to me.

Everybody says that Kosem killed her sons only for power and it wasn't for the good of the country. Is that true? Was Murad a good ruler in the show? All I know is that he was harsh and in the end wanted to kill his brothers. What Ibrahim? In history he clearly made a very poor ruler. What about the show?

Hi!

Fans often have different interpretations of the subject matter and what is perceived on-screen, so some of them might say that Murat IV was a good ruler in the show and some might say that he isn't. Really depends on what you consider a good ruler - is it someone who goes on campaigns and wins wars for his country, is it someone who cares about the people, the janissary and their opinions above all else or is it someone who considers himself unquestionable authority and refuses to take any advice, even if they took the wrongest, most problematic decision ever?

To me, show!Murat is anything but a good ruler. He ascends the throne as a kid, with Kösem as a regent, and I feel that he never actually gained any experience in how to truly rule the state. And yet, when the time comes for him to actually take matters into his own hands, he is ecstatic to finally assert his will and dominance for everyone to see and learn. One of the key problems with him are that he not only wants his decisions to be completely unparalleled and undebated, he considers everything he does as right out of principle. He has the mindset that every single decision he takes is absolutely correct and is beneficial for the state, but not because it's actually correct or beneficial, but only because he's the padişah and "the shadow of God on Earth". And there are quite a lot of decisions that are problematic at best (forbidding alchohol and then you yourself drink it) and outright destructive and dangerous at worst. (leaving just like that, even it's after a traumatic event for you, caused a huge literal revolt!) And even if he realizes what he's doing isn't right, he ignores every kind of advice when people around him tell him to do the precise opposite. This guy is so drowned in his own ego and authority that he destroys everyone around him.

But then again, there's that side of things where, writing-wise, you understand where all that comes from - most of Murat's flaws as a ruler stem from the massive past trauma of Osman's death, which only caused irreparable damage to the mind of such a small kid. It created such unrelenting paranoia that Murat began to forever believe that he couldn't count to anyone but himself. This is what his "meeting" with Osman in E47 symbolizes, he hears both what he wants to hear and that part of Osman which could never accept Kösem's outside interference. That's also the episode where "one Murat went away, there comes the other" and there he began to go further into the abyss of his own beliefs. Murat has Süleiman's paranoia, but upped to eleven in a more offending form, because while with Süleiman this paranoia grew gradually and he could let it go more easily, because despite of all he knew how to rule a good state, with Murat it was always there from the very start, constantly preventing him from doing the right thing, especially due to the constant fear of being manipulated and deceived by someone else (just like Osman thought he was.) and always thinking he's in his mother's shadow.

Speaking of which, Kösem and Murat's dynamic is the central conflict of season 2 of MCK and that's not only an interpersonal character conflict, as it would seem at first glance to someone who's new to the franchise in example, it's a conflict of one newly established and another already established powers in the palace that would never back down and fight for what they think is right. Kösem and Murat have a different relationship with the state. The state for Kösem has a dynamic role - firstly, it was a role she had to accept for the greater good (her standing in front of the people in Ahmet's name in E07 of season 1.), then she saw herself engrained in it due to her strong sense of justice. (getting revenge for her father, trying to expose Fahrye, then Handan and Derviş and lastly, ''protecting the country" from Iskender.) By season 2 country and power are already synonymous to her due to her fully taking the responsibility of a regent and taking the country in her wing of protection, always keeping an eye on it and consistently representing it without a second thought. The state for Murat, however, is static - it is something given to him by God himself, it is something he takes for granted, without truly trying to improve it. The first steps he takes as a ruler is to seemingly "clear" his own path, to remove the traitors around him. And while that seems correct and valid at first glance, he never sees the bigger scheme of things, due to his paranoia. He doesn't see the people who actually conspire to remove him (which is why he never found out the true traitor in his palace and died, thinking this person was the most loyal man ever.), but sees what he wants to see, this shadow who is looming in for years. Murat thinks his mother is a problem, which is why the first step he takes, is to immediately remove her regency and then send Kemankeş to follow her around. These two forces clash with each other incessantly, with their opinion of a state at constant odds. There have been many times throughout the show where Murat does a problematic thing, Kösem tries to snap him out of it and fails, because he doesn't want to listen to her no longer. He's always felt that she overshadowed his own reign, even in her regency years (see the flashbacks in E56.) and he wants to believe that he's already a big man, a person who can do anything, even with a big lack of experience. So whoever tries to give him decent advice is immediately washed off and out of the question, because who are they, they don't know better, he's the only one who does. This mindset is reflected as totally wrong in the show with the people and the janissary despising him, with the numerous revolts (the season literally began with a revolt.), with the multiple traitors around him, with everyone (Atike and Farya aside) turning against him sooner or later. That of course isn't appreciated by Kösem, and she, being the self-and not-so- self- proclaimed representative of the state, tries to fix this all, even if it means acting behind Murat's back. She doesn't really wish her son harm only due to him eclipsing her own power, she just sees the genuine flaws of his rule and is willing to achieve everything to fix it. Later on she began to indeed consider him as unworthy due to all the mistakes he made, claiming that the country is able to defend itself and listing qualities that all padişahs should possess like virtue and justice. She saw how messy all of it became and instinctively began to search for solutions that even came to ending him. (her ordering the doctor to cease healing his illness.) The narrative doesn't actually condemn this choice, highlighted by Murat's last flashback with him reuniting with his mother.

Murat is the one that killed Kasım and Bayezid in show, because he considers them a threat to his own power, first and foremost. Bayezid's the primary one, him being the eldest heir, with people wanting him on the throne from the get-go, when Murat was alive. Murat doesn't accept threat to his own power, and his brothers aren't exceptions, even though he told them certain times that he wouldn't put them in the kafes or take their life. Even though Bayezid became so much like his toxic mother (Gülby, I love you, but sorry.), prone to revenge, harsh actions and gaining questionable one-sided morality, his death was heartbreaking. As for Kasım, Murat took drastic measures, because Kösem thought Murat was dead and tried to calm down the people by bringing to them Kasım exactly as the next sultan. This was extremely harsh, because after all Kösem used it only as a desperate measure, to calm the people down and to apply the most optimal solution. Putting Kasım in the cafes when you once said that you wouldn't is honestly chief irony, reaching Süleiman's level, but worse.

Yes, Kösem was the one who ultimately sealed the pact to kill Ibrahim, but this was due to manipulation. Turhan Sultan wanted his death to pave the way for her little son and gain absolute power, so she indeed pushed Kösem's love and dedication to the country against her. She was put in a position where she had no other choice but to accept - we had a mentally ill Sultan as a ruler, one who could be reckless, one who could cause imbalance and instability and one who also doesn't really listen. So she decided his destiny and the theme of the loss of innocence, the core theme of the whole show, came full circle. She killed Ibrahim, but she wasn't happy with it, she was devastated and her conscience spoke so loudly, she couldn't unhear it. And that deed of hers made her give it all up - by the time of her death, she only wanted piece, nothing else, and she wasn't even interested in who gets the ring of power and she wasn't all that focused on her own death, either. Life was over for her.

Anyway, yeah, it all depends on interpretations of the events and characters and where your sympathies extend. MCK has really interesting and complex themes and I wholeheartedly recommend for you to watch it to drive your own conclusions. Thanks for the question and have a nice day!

[popculturebuffet]

Life and Times of Scrooge McDuck Restrospective: The Raider of the Copper Hill! “You Got Rich Son”

Hello all you happy people! And welcome back to my retrospective of the Life and Times of Scrooge McDuck! It’s been far too long, almost three months since we last checked in with Scrooge and frankly I feel i’ve been spacing these entries out too much for this one and for the retrospectives that aren’t paid for in general. So expect at least one McDuck adventure a month till I finish, possibly two when I can swing it like this month. 

Now i’m done beating myself up, when we last left off a younger more naive, more optimistic and less experienced Scooge took up a career as a cowboy for  Cattle Baron, gained his first sidekick in the form of his Horse Hortense, and took out some cattle thieves with the help of Teddy Fucking Roosevelt. 

This chapter marks the end of the story’s first act. The first act is about a younger and far nicer Scrooge: still onrey and still a cheapskate, but still a good kid and far more outwardly friendly and welcoming, a far cry from the bitter untrusting man we come to know. This chapter is one of the reasons why, as Scrooge learns a hard lesson about wealth and success, the sacrifices one needs to make for family and about sticking your hand in a lightbulb while it’s plugged in. So join me under the cut as Scrooge meets another valuable mentor, one of his greatest enemies, and about 50 feet of barbed wire. 

We begin with the end of Scrooge’s time as a ranch hand and cowpunch. With homesteaders moving in and dividing up the land, Murdo simply dosen’t have the space for cattle baroning anymore and has to let Scrooge go and head back to texas. We do get a great bit of Scrooge wrapped in barbed wire, having gone to cut some down so Murdo could move the herd out. 

So with his Job done and parting on good terms with his old boss, Scrooge sets up his own homestead on some land near the Anaconda Silver Mine, trying to make it as a prospector, starting on the path that would eventually lead him to riches.. in about a decade and a half.

 So Scrooge bemoans his rotten luck over Dinner with a stranger, Marcus Daly owner of said mine... who just.. randomly sat down to have dinner with a 17 year old. 

Marcus belays his own woes: While Scrooge has failed at what he tried to do, having gotten into both steamboating and cattle punching too late to go anywhere with either, Daly has a silver mine that’s full of copper: decent amoutns of it but still not what his investors wanted. 

Both however find their fortunes reverse in an instant in the weirdest way possible. The light goes out at their table and Scrooge tries to adjust it only to electcute himself. To his shock...

He finds out it’s running on electricty, which is starting to become widespread.. and requires vast amounts of copper wiring. Scrooge is back in the game but finds trouble getting equipment as the local seller naturally is a jackass who jacks up the price. Scrooge instead sells the gold teeth his dad gave him to the nearest gentleman after talking him into it. . And i’ts not even the weirdest transaction i’ve seen this week. 

For the record those weird things are the guy on the left’s skinflakes, his power is to make naked golems of himself out of his dandruff and skin flakes and what have you, while the guy on the right is paying for a mutant with a star for a head. So yeah a scottish cowboy selling his ancestor’s dentures to pay for mining gear is refelshingly tame after all of this. 

So we get the comic equivleant of a montage as Scrooge starts his work at prospecting, making a portable homesteader shack as a miner owns any land he lives on, and moving around to try and find it, but he runs into a problem: with his last two careers he had mentors to help him learn what to do: Pothole taught him riverboating and Murdo helped him learn to ride the trails. Here he has no one and while you can self teach a lot of things prospecting isn’t one of them. 

He end sup finding one though as a rich gentleman asking about the mine happens to wander by: Howard D. Rockerduck. If that names sounds familiar it should as he’s indeed the father of exactly who your thinking of and we meet a young 10 or so year old john who asks him to stop dealing with a grubby workman. We also find out whose responsible for him turning out ot be such a piece of work as his mother’s response to his father telling him “I used to be a grubby workman is well... word’s cant’ do this amount of classist bulslhit justice. 

Seriously his unnamed wife is so odious it hurts. And how the fuck did an honest, kind man like Howard end up with this bitch? It’ sbaffled me every time i’ve read this: did he marry for money? is he a gold digger? go down gold dig get down? Is she just THAT good in bed? Did he just make a horrible mistake one night? Did she lie to him about who she was? Was she replaced by a skrull? I have questions no duck comic has properly explained.. and if they have please tell me.  Also it does tickle me we’re getting a bit with a duck named howard though sadly he wears a top hat instead of a nice little bowler. And if you don’t know who howard the duck is.. shame on you. And if you’ve seen the movie.. my deepest sympathies. 

While Howard laments wanting to horsewhip his son, this was a century ago with change mind you standards were different and also John sucks. Howard crticizes Scrooge’s techqniue after introducing himself, and Scrooge and him get into a bit of a tizzy, with Howard offering to teach him for two cents.. but the hostility quickly desolves hours later as Scrooge realizes Howard was right and he’d been doing things completely wrong and the thrill of hard honest work again has washed away any ego driven competiviness. 

I”ll get more into Howard in a second but he does eventually strike copper, and while the vein is full it’s also thin. But Howard has one final trick and takes Scroogey for an ore test. I tried to find more on this but just found a lot of ways to do it yourself and what not. I”m now really intrigued how they did this and found the content of minerals. I know it’s a dull subject but i’m curious how they did it with the technology of the time. Did they just use acids like I found? If so how’d they get them? I do say this is one of the great qualities of Rosa’s works: he makes you want to learn more about history. I looked up more about TR after the last chapter and now I want to know how the hell metallurgy worked in the late 1800′s. 

We then get an intresting interacton as Scrooge.. warmly greets the townsfolk and vice versa.. yes the same Scrooge who as an adult would be introduced proclaming...

Is warm, optimistic and wholeheartedly belieives...

As you can probably tell by Howard’s reaction and what Scrooge becomes.. this story’s all about shattering that notion and is the first of two to shatter the poor kid’s trust in people and make him into the bitter old sod we know. 

The sample comes back 55% positive... which leaves Howard rushing to get Scrooge to a court house. As it turns out there’s an old, very real for the time, mining law called the Law of Apex: whoever owns the land closest to where an ore vein is on the surface owns the whole thing... so legally Scrogoe owns the ENTIRE ANACONDA COPPER MINE, which at this point as detailed in the time skip has gone from struggling to utterly thriving and sucessful. Whoever owns the land at the time the Judge rules it gets the mine.. and Scrooge’s friends, who seconds ago were concerned about him being dragged into court.. are now all scrambling to take his fortune, something Howard dosen’t seem at all suprised about. 

But while this may be a kinder, more naive Scrooge McDuck, it’s still SCROOGE MCDUCK. His response is to cut a nearbye power wire and swing it tarzan style over to hortense and ride her back ahead of the mob... with the electric wire slapping her rear and causing her to go extra fast.. and also quit. So Scrooge stands alone but manages to take out some of the ruffians with his shack while John and the Judge rush to the site. As for Scrooge well... you want to see what a McDuck family beserker rage against an ENTIRE angry mob of opportunistic assholes look like? 

And this isn’t even the most badass thing Scrooge will do this series. Or even in the next few issues. That’s how awesome this series is: fighting an angry mob SOLO with simply his pure rage and whatever he can grab and throw. And he WINS. He’s exausted and passes out, falling out of the sky on his final opponent.. but he took out what was at the LEAST 50 men, and ONLY passed out because one of them threw dynamite in his out house.. and even THAT didn’t kill him or put him out, simply casuing him to land on said dynamite throwing idiot and wins. 

We find out Rockerduck actually was one of the mine’s owners but helped Scrooge anyway: he has more than enough money and all it’s going to do in the end is go to a greedy brat. Marcus Daly shows up and while he’ll get the law overturned eventually, he still has to shut down while that happens and finds the right officials to bribe. And this is the 1800s... you gotta go by train to do your bribes. You can’t just do that shit over email and hidden bank accounts. Daly offers him 10,000.. but given what Scrooge could earn even before he got his mine back, Scrooge turns it down. 

However this victory is bittersweet as Scrooge warmly greets his friends.. only for one to cuss him out and the other to tell him to get loss. We then get one of my faviorite exchanges in this story.

This whole Panel is a masterwork. The sheer INNOCENCE on Scrooge’s face, almost looking like Donald, desperately wondering what he did, when as Howard points out.. he did nothing wrong. He simply got successful and they resent him for it. 

This has been a hard paragraph for me to write as I want to tread carefully. People do have good reasons to scorn the rich or celebrtiies sometimes. Some rich people or those in the media are genuinely terrible. Jeff Bezos, Tucker Carlson, Mel Gibson, Louie CK, Joss Whedon and even someone as low on the totem pole as Doug Walker is odious. And of course we all can think of one odious example of rich bastard i’d rather not think of, especially when thinking of John D Rockerduck and what he’l lbecome as an adult that i’m not giving a pleasure of the name drop but came to mind. 

But even for good people becoming succesful puts up a barrier between you and other people: Fans of yours will admire you or write fanfic or what have about you without even knowing you, i’ve been on that side, and some people will hate you just because without valid reason, especially in this day and age. Success breeds resentment and even people you trusted and loved can sometimes turn on you. It’s the double eged sword of achieving your dreams: You get what you wanted but you often loose what you had. 

And it was no diffrent two centuries ago, with Scrooge’s friends only being friendly as long as it suited them, turning on him first to steal his chance at glory and then to scorn him for daring to achieve it. Some people.. are only there for you as long as your not above them. And sometimes you can be happy. Look at Tom Hanks, who has a lovely family and a long and storied career. Or Linkara, a youtuber who has been at this for over a decade, has tons of fans, a loving wife with her own succesful channel, and just recently got contacted by his childhood heroes. You CAN be happy and successful.. it’s just very hard to make it that far. 

One of the central points of life and times is that’s often not the case: You can get what you want but it comes at a cost. And it’s how you pay that price that will determine how happy you are. Another central point intertwined with it is it’s not the journey but the destination, and i’ts how Scrooge takes that journey that ultimately leads him where he ends up good and bad. And we get an all to telling all too foreboding hint in how he takes everyone he knew for at least a year turning on him overnight. 

When faced with his first real loss on this Journey that wasn’t material.. he dosen’t care. He has his money and riches and that’s enough. And as we’ll see that attitude will cost him greatly. Howard is irate for a moment, hoping he wasn’t wrong in trusting Scrooge.. and indeed, for now, turns out to have placed his faith in the right person as Scrooge gets a telegram: his family needs him. And while he could stay, turn his back on them, and earn MILLIONS.. he tells Howard  to tell the owner he’s taking the deal. For now when given the choice between his family and his fortune, SCrooge will choose them. Sadly.. that won’t hold true forever. 

With this being the end of his time in the story, as he has a still insufferable John buy him a horsewhip for horrific but darkly funny reasons, as John brags about how rich his father is not realizing he’s buying his own whupping tool, i’d like to touch on Howard D Rockerduck and how amazing he is. Rosa managed to pack a throughly interesting, throughly engaging character into only 8 pages. While Rockerduck DID show up earlier in of ducks dimes and destinys, he wasn’t really fleshed out or named and only showed up for one page so still 9 pages total. 

But in those we see a kind and noble man whose easily what Scrooge COULD have been, kind, noble, generous, hardworking and willing to give up money to help people. He’s a good man.. but even he’s seen the sacrifice Money brings. He’s clearly lost friends, lost a sense of peace, and married the wrong Woman, whose poisoned his children into a spoiled brat who will only grown into an even more spoield adult in both continuities.. if raised quite a bit earlier in the 2017 cartoon as he was made scrooge’s contemporary there rather than a child, but semeantics. Point is Howard hismelf isn’t wholly satisfied with his success.. and that’s what he and Scrooge will forever have in common, with Scrooge, likely as a result of meeting the Rockerducks, fearing an indadiquate inheritor and someone squandering what he worked hard for. Though his reasons for not taking up a wife as we’ll see eventually, if outside the main 12 part story but I intend to cover the subchapters in their own time, aren’t entirely motivated by avoiding goldigging but a broken hard and his own stubborness. 

For now though we bid Howard and america adue. Scrooge however for once ends an occupation with less bitterness. Unlike his last two ventures where he made it out with only enough to get to the next one here he made it out ahead: he now has a decent suit, likely bought for him by Howard given he hasn’t cashed the check yet, I know this as it’s a major plot point for next time, 10,000 dollars.. and experince. He may of not gotten all the money he was due on this venture, but he learned more valuable skills and he feels with a land like america, the next opportunity to earn some dough is just waiting for him to get back. And as the chapter ends he muses that maybe the country could use a symbol of this countries boundless opportunity...

Final Thoughts for the Raider of the Copper Hill:

This chapter is one of my favorites. It’s nicely paced, something Rosa himself admits was often a struggle as he had to cover years at a time, has a wonderful new mentor for Scrooge, and sets up a lot of the tragedy to come in the last act beautifully. It’s a nice closer for our first act, showing Scrooge has come out of his first trip to america wiser, more experinced and more hopeful, but at heart still the same kind and noble kid he left Glasgow as. The next act is about the change of that boy into a man, how he will finally find his fortune after some more adventures.. and how the last viestges of his kindess and optimisim towards others die at the hands of a certain fake scotish gentleman. 

Next Life And Times: As is tradition for this series act openers, Scrooge returns home.. and just in time to get his castle back, fight a duel and go to heaven and back. So an average McDuck tuesday then. 

If you liked this review follow for more. And if you liked it a lot join my patreon so I can keep making these and hit my stretch goals. Even at just the 2 dollar level you get access to my discord and your pick of shorts whenever I do a series of them and with Goofy and Donald’s birthdays being the next ones to be celebrated you can’t pick a better time. patreon.com/popculturebuffet See you at the next rainbow. 

[worryinglyinnocent]

Fic: Haven (10/50)

Summary: They say Resembool is a haven, and they’re right. Lush pastures, quaint country town, farmers’ markets on Saturdays: a bucolic paradise.

But it’s more than that. Resembool is a haven for the runaways, the deserters, the people who don’t want to be found…

The Resembool community knows there’s something odd about Hohenheim, but they’re not going to let that stop them helping him out. This is Resembool after all, a place where no one has to hide and neighbours help neighbours, be they building a fence, chasing a sheep, or trying to save the country from an evil they inadvertently helped release centuries ago…

Or: A series of slices of life in an AU in which Hohenheim never leaves, and several broken state alchemists find hope and home in Resembool.

Rated: T

==

Haven

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [AO3]

Ten

Summary: Hohenheim’s souls provide parenting advice of dubious quality.

Characters: Hohenheim, Ed, Al, the many voices in Hohenheim’s head

==

On the face of it, it should have been a comparatively easy task. However, Hohenheim is known for overcomplicating things, whether he’s actually doing them or just thinking about them, and as such, he has managed to think himself into a panic. 

Taking care of his own children is not in and of itself a challenge. He has done it many times before. He has been looking after them since they were born. It is not the first time that he has been in charge of both boys at the same time. 

It is, however, the first time that he has been alone in the house with both of them. 

Trisha needs the break, he is the first to acknowledge that and the first to agree when the idea of her taking a girls’ trip into town to the flea market with Sarah is mooted. It’s only now that she’s out of the house that the reality of her not being within shouting reach should something go terribly wrong is setting in. 

Hohenheim takes a deep breath. He’s a disaster in most areas of his life, he’s long since accepted this, and whilst he might be a disaster of a father as well, no-one is going to be traumatised by this. Himself included. 

Al is asleep in his basket in the corner of the room, and Ed is playing happily on the mat. So far, so good. The peace lasts all of three minutes forty-two seconds before Al wakes up and begins to bawl, the sound sending Hohenheim into a complete state of panic.

He’s done this before. He should not be freezing up like a rabbit in front of a fox. 

Ed just stares at him for a while, challenging him to do something about the racket that’s interrupting his play, and several helpful souls keep chivvying him to move. 

Finally, he moves, picking Al up. This seems to serve only to make him cry even harder, as if he knows that Mom isn’t around to come to the rescue if Dad does anything wrong. 

His nappy is dry and Trisha nursed him just before she left, so Hohenheim doesn’t know why he’s crying. 

Well, that’s not entirely true. He’s crying because he’s a baby and he has no other way of communicating. 

Try rocking him, someone says helpfully. Or maybe bouncing! Perhaps he’s just got wind. Or hiccups! Give him a fright!

“For the love of Xerxes, be quiet,” Hohenheim hisses. “Not you,” he adds to Al, although he doubts Al can understand him. “I mean everyone else.”

There are a few exclamations of affront in his veins, but the most vociferous souls dutifully pipe down. 

Is he sick? 

Hohenheim feels Al’s face. It seems hot, but that might just be because he’s upset and crying, his little fists flailing and grabbing a handful of his beard. 

Rub him with an onion, that’ll do it. 

No, you want a spoonful of oyster sauce.

You’re all mad.

The arguments continue in the back of his mind and Hohenheim closes his eyes as he tries to detangle Al’s fingers.

“Daddy?”

There’s a tug on his trouser leg and he looks down to find Ed staring up at him with concern. The two brothers do feed off each other, and it looks like Ed is about to burst into tears in sympathy with Al at any moment. 

“It’s ok,” he says, although he really doesn’t sound reassuring. “We’ll be ok.”

Another chorus of unwanted advice starts up in his veins. He’s sure that it’s all very good advice in its own way when taken individually instead of all at once with everything contradicting everything else, and whilst he appreciates the souls wanting to help him out, he’s pretty sure that there are some things they are never going to be able to help with, and learning how to be a decent parent is one of them. 

“Let’s go out into the garden,” he suggests. “We can watch out for Mommy coming back.”

Ed seems dubious, but it’s a nice enough day, the last of the summer sun just beginning to turn into autumn. Hohenheim succeeds in detaching Al from his beard and pops him back in his basket. 

“Just for a little while. Just to get Ed’s shoes on.”

Ed dutifully sits down to get his shoes on, and Hohenheim helps him put them on before he leads the way out into the front yard, Hohenheim bringing the basket. The change of scene seems to help Ed at least, and he pokes about at Trisha’s long-suffering flowerbeds as Hohenheim settles on the bench and takes Al in his arms again. He’s still crying, but it’s more of a snuffle than a wail now. 

“All right, let’s see what we can do for you then.” He rocks him gently, the way Trisha taught him to get Al off to sleep. The boys are so similar in so many respects, but there’s no guarantee that what worked for Ed will work for Al. Ed liked to be held close when he was a baby, chest to chest, and Hohenheim remembers long evenings soothing him when he was colicky and feverish, his tiny face nuzzled into the curve of Hohenheim’s collarbone. Al prefers to be cradled.

Ed comes toddling over with an interesting stone, which he leaves on the bench beside Hohenheim. Ed has been unearthing stones for a month now, with Trisha putting them back every time he loses interest in them so that he can discover them anew with fresh enthusiasm the next day. 

“It’s a very good rock,” Hohenheim agrees. “Don’t you think so, Al?”

Al does not respond, but he quietens and gives a huge yawn. Maybe a change of scene and a cuddle from Dad was all he needed. Presently Ed leaves the flowerbeds and comes to peer over at Al. Hohenheim gives him a hand up onto the bench, and Ed stares in rapt amazement as Al drifts back off to sleep. Coming to think of it, it’s probably high time that Ed had a nap as well.

Routine is important, someone in the back of his mind agrees. 

Still, he can’t quite bring himself to move again when they’ve only just got settled and Al is now asleep again. He’s amazed how comfortable he feels. Back when Ed had been Al’s age, it had taken him a lot longer to get to grips with holding him and carrying him, scared of hurting him in some way. Practice makes perfect, he supposes. 

Ed loses interest in Al and goes back to playing with the stones for a while until he too gives a yawn and leans against his father’s side, nodding off. They’re still like that when Trisha comes back up the path, and she smiles on seeing them all together. It’s a moment that Hohenheim never thought that he would be able to have. Living philosopher’s stones don’t deserve this kind of happiness. He can’t understand how Ed and Al can be so trusting of him; he’s always expected them to shy away with that innate fear and hatred that animals do. And yet they’re here, Ed curled up against his side and Al snoring softly in his arms. 

For once, none of the souls are giving him any advice.

[veryvincible]

6, 9, 20

6: What are some topics you will never write about?

I don't think I'll ever write a fic wherein Steve and Tony have a kid-- at least, not one where the kid is, like, a separate character with its own little personality and everything. Nothing against kidfic, it's just not really my thing and I am kind of awful at writing children.

9: Are there any fics you'd love to see but don't want to write yourself? What are they?

I don't think so! All the stuff I write is the stuff I'd like to read myself. But in terms of, like, getting to read something without actually having to buckle down and write it, I think I'd really vibe with longer fics that dissect the Stark family a bit more (with Howard's effect on Jarvis included too) and maaaybe some stuff with Ty. I've also been kicking around a WIP that brings both Steve and Tony's families back to life, but that would be a lot to write, so idk what'll go down with that one. There's nothing specific, though. I just like new content about the things I like. :)

20: Which fic have you put the most work into? Which fic have you put the least work into?

This, too, is difficult for me to quantify, mostly because I don't think amount of effort necessarily translates to higher quality for me, even generally-- my most loved fic is something that I wrote in a few hours on Halloween day, for Halloween, and there was pretty much no pre-planning aside from the most bare bones outline possible.

I think I plotted out Disjointed (a kind of psychological horror-y thing) a bit more, with specific scenes intended to have multiple interpretations that I needed to keep track of, since it was nice to have an actual sequence of events that were going to take place that I could then translate through a certain POV. But I don't think that fic took me too much effort, either; I really love it, and I think it's one of the few fics I actually don't mind going back and re-reading, but it was written in 3 days with a lot of that time spent just... typing words and seeing what happened.

Sympathy for the Devil (Tyfic-- on hiatus) took a lot of planning to begin with and it'll probably take a decent amount of planning to finish, but I think when I started it, I didn't actually... expect people to want to see Tiberius Stone content, so I was like, "Okay, I'll just make the one Ty fic and then move on to other stuff." I don't want my whole fandom experience to be dictated by the opinions of others, but y'know, it's hard to find the motivation to lovingly craft a long multi-chap fic if you think the only reader that'll show is you. I think it's probably going to get a lot less planning-intensive now that I've actually let myself breathe and carve out some space for as many Ty WIPs (to explore as many avenues) as I want.

Funny enough, I think First Impression was one of the harder/more laborious fics to write, mostly because it was for an exchange and it was more like "Write someone's cool ideas!" rather than "Come up with your own ideas!", which I love dearly but also have to acknowledge is harder than just coming up with stuff on your own, in terms of how effortlessly the fic ends up being written. I consulted multiple people for that one (thank you to ki for helping me brainstorm what subtle classy gay shirt a man might wear to a closeted rich people bar, and thank you to han and lena for helping me with the fic writing process!)

As for the fic I've put the LEAST work into... Maybe Transistor-Powered Teammate, mostly because it was more about the vibes and some basic dialogue with an easy canon divergence than anything else. It was an easy concept with an easy execution.

[the-wolf-in-the-roses]

This is just to let you know that the main the reason I haven't updated Wolf in the Roses in like four million years is:

I was planning to get onto it over the summer break because I thought, hey, I'll get on top of work now and then when I've not got much to do over the holidays I can dedicate more time to my writing!

But!

My education had other ideas.

So here I am, trying to work out how I'm going to fit 50+ hours of new work into five weeks when it takes me an hour to manage 15 minutes of productivity on good days, finish my assessed project to a decent quality, survive compulsory social interaction, and retain my little remaining physical and mental functionality through all of this including a week or two of full-time volunteering I have to do, all the while getting occasional emails from my lovely learning institution which say "And don't forget to take a break and give yourself some rest! We value your mental health!" so... Yeah. No rest for the wretched writer, eh?

Anyhow, my point is, dolphins- I haven't lost interest in WitR, I've just lost my mind trying (and mostly failing) to organise myself and stay creative. The story continues to blossom in my mind, and I only hope that life will soon allow me to let it blossom on the page for you guys too.

All the best; I hope you are doing okay – and if not, Nines' chickens would like to give your hand a gentle little bonk.

Note: this isn't a sympathy call. I actually find the whole thing kind of amusing. I just want to let you know I haven't abandoned WitR, that's all. :)

[mysticalmusicwhispers]

APH College AU: South Korea

Thanks to @bizarrejelly for ideas for SK’s major!!! Go look at their drawings and headcanons y’all! AU intro

- Broadcasting/mass communications major. His dream job would be to host his own talk show so he can meet all his idols (let’s be real, this probably would end up being his job because he’s just really lucky and works super hard, and he’d be over the moon about it). - Tech side job, works at a Samsung store sometimes, helping fix people’s phones. He kinda hates telling people that their phones are broken beyond repair; when he talks about it to HK though he gets 0 sympathy: “Why are you sad?? It’s not your fault they broke their phone.” “Yeah, I know, but still! I’m supposed to be fixing it, aren’t I?!” - K-pop fan, knows all the singers and all the bands. He’s written fan letters to a lot of them in the neatest Korean he can manage, on one or two occasions he’s actually gotten a response. - Eats instant Ramen 5 out of 7 days for lunch, even though Japan offers to bring him stuff from China's restaurant. He just can’t be bothered, and wants quick meals he can wolf down in 10 minutes. (Slightly illogical because he could probs do that with China’s food as well but he just. Refuses.) - But because China insists on family dinners at least once a week, Yong Soo does have to show up to his apartment. He’s always first to arrive and usually gets dragged into helping prepare food by Yao. “Aiya, don’t be lazy and help me! You’ve got nothing else to do anyways besides sit there.” *Sigh* “Fine... but you need to repay me later.” (He never does get favors back, but he doesn’t really mind either.)

- Good cook, but nobody really knows about his skills because they just kind of assume he’s the type to be kinda klutzy and burn things, plus he doesn’t cook much, even for himself. Those who do eat his food are often blown away, just because their expectations got shattered and the food is really tasty. - A fashionable nerdy jock: he’s on a fair amount of sports teams, looks good all the time no matter what, writes really long and convoluted D&D scripts when playing Dungeon Master that have 10 spontaneous twists and no planning (he wings it), and puts a lot of effort into his schoolwork (on the honor roll a lot) because he just wants to do his best all the time. Nerd 100%, but not your stereotypical “shy, in the corner, ugly glasses person” nerd (I think that’s the most common stereotype?) - From @hongkongenthusiast‘s headcanons, he plays foot volleyball and shouts about how fun it is to anyone who’ll listen. He’s trying to create a school team, but can’t find enough people yet (or a coach). Also does taekwondo and is trying to learn fencing. - Wears fake glasses sometimes to look “cool” but it just ends up making him look super studious and rather smart (which he wouldn’t mind either). - Writes notes in English and Korean, does the whole thing of mixing in words from his two languages. His writing is pretty legible, but only because he writes fairly slowly to make it look good. However, he uses his laptop to take notes as well, because it’s faster and he doesn’t have to lug several thick notebooks around. Plus it saves trees. - Annoys the heck out of his teachers sometimes, but they appreciate his enthusiasm. He’s the person who gets reprimanded a lot for fooling around but is still a favorite of the teacher. - Has started a podcast series where he hosts local performer people and ask them about their work and life stuff. HK cohosts episodes with him sometimes; his siblings and a lot of his friends follow the series (which is actually of decent quality). Spain and Austria have also been in episodes. - Drags his family out for karaoke nights a lot. He’s a good singer, but only on some songs that vibe with him; really bad and off tune at other songs. - He’s fairly decent at English, mostly because he approaches each book as a drama series and can predict a lot of twists, good at math (and knows it) and average at all other subjects. He takes a lot of film classes though because he finds them really interesting (and he gets to watch movies for class). - B to A+ range. Rather variable grades because sometimes he just completely misses the mark on an assignment. He does pretty ok though most times. - Chugs Starbucks coffee on late nights, which is 3 out of 5 weekdays. Isn’t really picky with the quality of drink as long as it keeps him awake. He doesn’t really need it though, because often times he wakes up still functioning perfectly after going to bed at 1 AM. Japan and China (and Macau sometimes) always tells him he seriously wouldn’t need the coffee if he just stopped procrastinating and planned ahead a little (and it’s totally true) but he doesn’t really do anything with their suggestions. - Sometimes he just goes back to his room after class with a whole ton of assignments and flops on his bed and watches kpop for a while because it’s just so much stuff that he doesn’t even want to get started until he’s watched enough entertainment. - I don’t think he’s the type to really laze around in bed in the morning, just because he thinks that’s a waste of time where you could be doing so many other things. Sometimes he just goes outside and does morning stretches on the sidewalk just because it’s refreshing. - He’s not really stressed a lot, because even when he stays up late he just takes it in stride and thinks of it as a normal part of a college student’s life, doesn’t feel bad about putting off work to the last minute or anything. Oftentimes he brags about it actually, being like “ahaha I got an A with this assignment assigned a week ago that I did sloppily last night in 2 hours”. Everyone just kinda shakes their heads in half admiration and half exasperation; some people feel jealous about how he can pull off such good grades but nobody really hates him for bragging. - However he does get frustrated/upset when he can’t think of what to do for a creative assignment/project. When he doesn’t have any ideas he just gets really burned out and flops into a pit of watching Netflix for four hours while he should be doing work - Does a lot of self care and knows how to pamper himself. Face masks and cucumbers, that sort of thing. On weekends, he forces China to lend him the bathtub in the apartment so he can pretend to have a spa day kinda thing, usually ropes Taiwan into it as well (she’d be totally into it) - Very sociable, knows most of the people he sees in the hallways and always gives them a wave or smile, makes you kinda light up inside if he says hi to you because he’s just that sweet. - Joined the anime club (which Japan is also in) and works for the school news channel, sometimes as a video editor, sometimes as a reporter. - Rocks the oversized hoodie look. - Kinda just hangs around his friends and their homework a lot, even if he doesn’t know anything about what they’re doing. He’ll fiddle with HK’s recording equipment (he knows how to work most of it because of his broadcasting major but just likes to annoy him sometimes), look at Alfred’s notes on astrophysics and gravity and forces and things (and doodle pictures of astronauts and rockets on them), mess around with other people’s stuff in general. - He’s the idea creator in friend groups. Spouts out fun things that they could do, either for projects or side hobbies or just weird competition thingies. Really fun to have around, and never makes a conversation awkward. - Really smooth when talking to people about sensitive subjects; he’s compassionate and knows when to stop pushing. But he’s a mess when flirting with someone he genuinely likes. - Slow to let you in on his secrets. Like I said, he has a lot of friends and knows a lot of people, but he never talks about really serious subjects unless he’s really close with the person, which takes a little while.

Ok I wrote a little too much, but I just have a lot of ideas. Also, tumblr tried autocorrecting “taekwondo” to “wonderland” *facepalms*. Anyways, I’m gonna try and finish a fic about China first so there might be a break in content for a while. Feedback is welcome and appreciated!!

[lokimostly]

Polaris (Ch.4/?)

Loki x Reader, Pirate!AU Word count: 3,043 Warnings: mild violence Summary: Your life has always been set in stone. Born to a wealthy merchant family in the Caribbean, you’ve spent your years as an heiress in the daytime, escaping at night to wander the streets of St. Thomas. Now, on the eve before your life settles into mundanity for good, you discover someone who could change everything– if you choose to trust him, that is.

A/N: I know I’m using mostly Thomas Sharpe and character-absent gifs. I’m picky. We’ll get some Loki gifs in here eventually. 

Chapter One ~ Chapter Two ~ Chapter Three ~ Chapter Five ~  Chapter Six ~ Chapter Seven ~ Chapter Eight ~ Chapter Nine ~ Chapter Ten ~ Chapter Eleven ~ Chapter Twelve ~ Chapter Thirteen ~ Chapter Fourteen

You were elated.

And your father, of course, was furious. You barely paid any attention to his rampage, trying your best to keep a straight face while he demanded to know what had happened and who was responsible. The poor dock workers scrambled to placate him. They knew who he was, of course -- the man who practically owned St. Thomas. And so they fell over themselves to explain what went wrong and offer some recompense.

“They left not ten minutes ago, sir–”

“there’s a storm coming up from Barbados–”

“–yes, and they weren’t keen on gettin’ caught.”

“They left?” Your father spluttered, face flushed with anger. “Well, send a boat and catch them!”

This gave them pause. One of the dock workers made eye contact with you and you shared a mutual glance of sympathy.

“With– with all due respect, m’lord, they’ve left the harbor already.”

“Then FIND ANOTHER SHIP!” Your father roared, looking like he might go into orbit at any second. The veins in his neck popped and his face was entirely flushed. The dock workers and valets scattered– while you, deflated and more than a little ashamed of his outburst, merely stared at him.

He cleared his throat and adjusted the collar of his suit, like smoothing out the wrinkles would soothe the atmosphere somehow. “It’ll be alright,” he muttered, mostly to himself.

This drew you out from your silence. “Oh, it’ll be alright, will it?” you asked. The familiar bubbling of anger started to fizz in your stomach again. “Are you that desperate to be rid of me?”

“I am not desperate,” your father corrected, straightening the scarf around his neck. “I am merely determined to secure your future.”

You clenched your jaw. “I think you mean your business venture.”

Your father turned on you and took a step forward, but you didn’t retract. You stood your ground and stared him in the eye, allowing your pent-up frustration to come through your face for the first time in too long. If your encounters with Loki had taught you anything over the past week, it was what intimidated you – and what did not.

He opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted by one of the dock workers. “Sir, there’s one other ship bound for the same destination – but the accommodations are hardly –”

“That will be fine, thank you,” your father snapped, keeping his eyes locked on you. At his imperious beckoning, the valets took your trunks and headed down to the docks.

He opened his mouth to speak again, but you weren’t having it.

“My mother wouldn’t have done this.”

You could almost hear your father’s thoughts as he travelled through several degrees of anger at once. He reached out and grabbed your chin, turning you sharply to face him. His lip curled venomously, baring his teeth.

You winced and tried to pull away, but he held you in an iron grip. “Remember your place, daughter,” he snarled, in a voice so cold you felt like someone had dumped ice water over you. “I have been patient with you, but you will not test me any longer. Do you understand?”

You could only nod.

Your father released you and you stepped away, both hands going up delicately to touch your face as if to make sure that he hadn’t left marks there. Your chest shook with emotion. Tears pricked on your waterline. You blinked them away hastily, pressing your lips together and keeping your eyes low, when you heard one of the dock workers approach.

“The ship is ready for you, sir.”

Your father shook his hand. “Good lad.” He paused, waiting for you. “Daughter?”

You swallowed your tears and calmed your shaky breath. “I’m coming.”

You picked up your heavy skirts to descend down the steps and followed them across the wooden dock. The sound of waves gently breaking against the aged pillars that held up the boardwalk kept you in your thoughts – until you nearly ran into your father and stopped short, looking upwards.

Your new ship was hardly a luxury vessel. It wasn’t even a halfway-decent merchant ship. The name – The Bella Notte – had been painted so long ago that it was beginning to crack. The hull itself was covered in barnacles and half-rotting. The sails were yellowed, patches sewn over patches, and the crew themselves hardly looked trustworthy. If your father cared in the slightest about your well-being, he wouldn’t let you within a mile of this ship or its crew. He, of all people, was accustomed to a certain uncompromised standard of living.

But it was obvious to you now that he didn’t care – not really. He had only tolerated you up until this point, because up until this point it hadn’t mattered. Now, with a tie to the wealthiest shipping merchant in the Caribbean at stake, he wasn’t going to give you an inch.

If you did escape this marriage somehow – and you were determined to do so –  you knew one thing: you wouldn’t be coming back to your father. Wherever your new life took you, it wouldn’t be here. You doubted that your footsteps would ever walk St. Thomas’s streets again. The night you’d snuck out your window, infiltrated the tavern, met Loki... that really had been your last night of freedom. Your life would never be the same.

At the thought of it, your heart broke inside your chest and you did your best to stave off the tears that kept welling up in your eyes. The valets took your luggage aboard, and you turned around to say goodbye.

You gave your father a watery smile, which he responded to by extending his arms for a hug. His embrace, as warm and comforting as it would have seemed moments ago, now felt like wrapping your fingers around the bars of a former prison cell.

A tear fell from your eyes, but you didn’t wipe it away. Instead, you let your father pull back and notice it, watched him click his tongue and brush his finger over your cheek to wipe it  away. Let him think the tears are for him, you thought vacantly. This is the last time I’ll ever see him. Let it be a good memory.

“I’ll see you soon,” He said, squeezing your arms before letting go. You merely smiled – that same performative muscle memory – and turned around, heading up the gangplank.

You didn’t look back.

~

The Bella Notte set off and kept a steady course northeast. The captain – a respectable fellow, you decided – had assured you that you would reach the coast of Europe in around three weeks. Longer than a normal voyage, but time had to be allocated for avoidance of the hurricane.

Either way, it was plenty of time to think of a way to get out of your current situation.

You mingled on the deck for the first hour or so, but the crew made you uneasy. It wasn’t like you hadn’t been around sailors before. Quite the opposite. Your nighttime excursions had led you to some of the most unsavory persons, and merchant sailors weren’t usually included in that description. These men, however, wouldn’t take their eyes off you.

You heard more than a few mutterings about who you were, and why you might be here. The general consensus was that it was bad luck to have a woman on the ship. Others, more curious about your personal history, suggested that you were a bastard child. Some speculated about your marital state: that you were carrying some reprobate's spawn and being sent away to save your family’s honor.

Funnily enough, none of them seemed to consider that you were actually decently wealthy, or engaged to a merchant heir. This ship attracted people of low-quality, and if you were here, you must be one too.

So you retired to your cabin.

The Captain had been paid to give up his quarters for you. It was a nice room despite the exterior: a narrow bed, heavy oaken desk and hanging lanterns to light the darker corners. A small, paneled window above the bed showcased the cerulean sky outside.

You picked up your skirts and sat down in the desk chair, setting your elbows on the armrests and letting your chin fall into one hand. Hardly afternoon and this day was already exhausting.

Your eyes drifted lazily over to the desk and you spotted a quill and inkwell. There was paper in the drawers, no doubt. Perhaps you should write a letter to Loki.

You scoffed aloud and stood up, discarding the idea. How ridiculous, you scolded yourself as your face heated up. What could you possibly have to say that he’d want to hear?

But he had told you to write to him.

Had he been serious? Or merely joking? For the life of you, you could never tell. Still…

By the third hour of your self-inflicted confinement to your cabin, you had picked up the pen half a dozen times, found paper and set it out, and ruined one sheet by blotting the ink on the page.

You couldn’t think of a single thing to say.

And yet, here you were again: you crossed the floor with a newfound determination, sat down at the chair, picked up the pen, and––!

“Oh, hell,” You swore quietly, glaring at the blank parchment. “What am I supposed to say? ‘Dear soon-to-be brother-in-law, could you please help, I am perishing of boredom and I’ve half-decided to drown myself because your brother and I don’t suit each other,’” You recited mockingly, setting the pen down once more. You leaned back in the chair and put your hands over your eyes, groaning at the headache which had been steadily growing for the past half hour.

Your hands fell and you let your head loll to the side. You blinked tiredly. Maybe sleep would do you good. According to your window, it was around nightfall, anyway.

With a sigh, you heaved yourself out of the chair for the umpteenth time and practically fell onto the bed. There was no point in discarding your outer dress– no one here would care if you wore the same dress twice in a row. No one cared about you at all. Not your father, not Thor – though perhaps he did try – and certainly not the sailors.

You shifted onto your side and pulled a pillow towards you. The garnet on your finger glinted red. You stared at the gem for a moment before reaching out and spinning it slowly around your digit. The metalwork was finely crafted, securely wrapped around the heart-shaped gem. That didn’t make it less unappealing to you, but at least you could admire its quality.

When you did fall asleep, staring at the ring from your fiancé, it wasn’t him you were thinking of.

~

You woke with a start.

The lanterns in your room glowed brightly against the blackness – it was barely dawn, and the pale light of the sun had scarcely started to lighten the starlit sky outside your window. Your heart pounded with adrenaline at your sudden awakening. Why were you awake? The vague memory of more obscene dreams was falling from you like sand through your fingers. No, it wasn’t your dreams. something had happened outside your mind and pulled you from your slumber.

You could feel it. Something was wrong.

You sat up and swung your legs off the bed, setting your bare feet on the wooden floorboards. Your blood roared in your ears, making it difficult to hear anything that might be happening outside.

Then, footsteps above.

You barely had time to think of it before the doorknob rattled and shook, and the old oak door gave way with a splintering crack.

A shriek escaped your lips and you grabbed the closest thing you could find – a candelabra – and swung it blindly. It connected with shocking force, and the intruder dropped unconscious to the floor. 

You stared down at him in horror and dropped your weapon. You didn’t recognize this man. His striped shirt, bald head, tattooed forearms – sure, all sailors looked somewhat similar, but you would’ve wagered ten guineas that this man wasn’t a part of the crew.

Before you had time to do anything about it, however, another man appeared in the doorway, heavyset and bearded. With a sword.

It clicked. “Pirates,” you said weakly.

The man saw his unconscious mate and roared, reaching out for you with large, calloused hands. You shouted, trying to escape, but the confines of your quarters were suddenly much smaller when he was in them. He grabbed your hair and yanked you back painfully.

You cried out and gasped, trying to think quickly. Your bare heel slammed back against the bridge of his foot. He shouted and his grip on your hair loosened, just enough for you to slam your head back against him – and he lost his grip entirely. His calloused hand ripped the fabric of your dress in a last-ditch attempt to hold on, but you pulled away and left him with only a piece of pale satin in his fist.

You wasted no time. While he staggered back with one hand wiping at the blood that dripped from his nose, you snatched up your candelabra, and swung it as hard as you could.

Two pirates on the floor.

You stared at them with wild eyes, your chest heaving, and let out a little squeak. “Alright,” you breathed, trying to calm yourself. “Pirates.” You swallowed. There would definitely be more on deck, and you couldn’t fend them off with a candelabra.

You set down your blunt weapon and knelt down, shoving the man over enough to reach for his sword. The thin rapier rang when you pulled it from its sheath, long and sharp and glinting in the lantern light. It was cold and heavy in your hands.

Footsteps on the stairs alerted you and you whirled around, holding the sword out with both hands. “I’m armed!” You shouted – it was the first thing that came to mind – and did your best to grip the hilt with your sweaty hands.

The intruder stopped short in the doorway, and your jaw dropped.

It was Loki. 

You gaped at him in pure shock, staring into his sea-green eyes. This is a dream, you thought. It has to be. 

But you could feel the blood pumping in your veins, the sweat prickling on the back of your neck. No, this was all too real. And for the third time, you were brought face-to-face with the man in your dreams, who was staring at you now in pure and genuine confusion. 

“You’re not supposed to be here,” he said. 

Like the night in the tavern, he was dressed in black pants and a puff-sleeved shirt that showed far too much of his toned chest. But for once, that wasn’t what you were looking at. His face was currently the most shocking thing about him. His genuine emotion was unmasked before your eyes, like seeing a glimpse of an actor instead of the character they played.

Loki shook his head and his brow quirked. He licked his lips, struggling to form a sentence, when footsteps above alerted you both.

Fear rose in your throat like bile and a distressed noise escaped your throat. “Loki–” you began.

“Do you trust me?” He asked abruptly.

You stared at him for a second longer. Your hands were shaking visibly. “No,” you said, a little hysteric.

“Smart girl.”

Before you could protest, Loki crossed the floor and grabbed you by the waist, snatching you up and dragging you up the stairs. The sword dropped from your hands with a yelp. “Hey!” You wriggled and fought against him, but his grip was even stronger than you’d anticipated, and he pulled you up with him onto the deck.

The pale light of dawn illuminated the merchant crew and captain being tied to the masts, bound and gagged at the hands and feet. The captain stared at you, wide-eyed, and made a sound that sounded vaguely like ‘help!.’ As if there was a think you could do. 

“Check those knots!” a red-haired man shouted – the first mate, you assumed numbly – and the pirates obeyed.

You tried to move again, and Loki’s grip tightened painfully as he pulled you flush against him. “Play along,” He ordered through his teeth, in a gravelly voice that sent shivers down your spine. Loki’s fingers dug into your waist, tangled in the thin fabric where your dress had torn, one less layer between your skin and his.

Not the time, you thought desperately. If only your mind could obey.

The first mate reached up to stroke his beard and turned around, seeing you. And when he did, he found. “Cap’n. Who’s this?”

Captain? You wondered, before the cold metal of Loki’s sword was at your throat and you froze. You could hear Loki’s silky voice like it was submerged in water.

“The precious cargo. This little debutante is worth keeping alive. All you need to know,” He added, and you could hear the smirk in his voice, “is that she’s off limits.”

The first mate seemed to find this answer satisfactory, nodding and turning back to his task at hand. Your eyes flickered to the east, where the ocean was beginning to turn pink and yellow in anticipation of the sun. Were it not for the fact that you were currently being held against Loki– no, a pirate –with a sword to your neck, you might have found it beautiful.

You should have run away, on your last night in St. Thomas. You should have packed a trunk and ran. 

“And what about the rest? The ship?” You heard the first mate ask.

You felt Loki’s chest swell against your back when he inhaled. The cold metal of his sword pressed lightly against the skin of your neck – nowhere near enough to hurt, but it frightened you nonetheless – and his deep, melodic voice sent a cold ripple through you when he spoke. 

“Burn the ship.”

--

A/N: Did you see it coming? I mean, this is a pirate AU, but still. I’d like to think SOME of you were surprised. ;) 

Tag List (OPEN): @neontiiger, @un-consider-it, @jessiejunebug, @nerdypisces160, @lokiisntdeadbitch, @e-wolf-90, @cursedmoonstone-blog, @kikaninchen-2, @bluebellhairpin, @evy-lyn, @midnight-queen-1, @travelingmypassion, @harrybpoetry, @adefectivedetective, @absolutecraziness13, @kumikokagato, @randomfangirl7, @timetraveler1978, @tarynkauai, @arcanethamin, @ornate-ribcage, @julianettedoe, @kinghiddlestonanddixon, @yespolkadotkitty, @befearlesslyauthenticc, @ladybugsfanfics, @thisisaclusterofablog, @groupies-do-it-better, @just-the-hiddles, @quenilla, @amyy-moonlightt, @pandacookieowo, @thatweirdwalangpake, @alexakeyloveloki, @littlemissporter, @yes-captainstark, @justawriterwithdreams

[transitverse]

But what if you did?

WORDS: 3073 CHAPTERS: 1 CHARACTERS: Zenith, Aubrey, Dak (briefly)

You said you didn't want to remember. You said you wouldn't want to know them. (or: Zenith has an unlikely and emotionally challenging encounter.)

This takes place somewhere around their journey through the Rockies. Time in NeoScum is nebulous.

You're in a gas station when you see them.

Xanadu is parked up outside; you stopped in this little nowhere town to grab a bite to eat, all hungry enough to shoot out of the doors like greyhounds the second the engine cut and over to the grubby diner across the street. The place had clearly seen better days, but the staff seemed happy to see some new faces passing through, and the food was decent - though at this point, you're all grateful for a sit-down meal anywhere, quality irrespective, as opposed to living on scraps that could be described as varying degrees of stolen or whatever dubious substance Dak has managed to procure and is insisting is "real trucker food". Everyone split off afterwards, wanting to stretch your legs, get some space and enjoy the fresh air before gearing up for another God-knows-how-many hours on the road. So, now, here you are in the convenience store at the truck stop, gathering up snacks to keep you going for the next day or two of driving.

The town has been pretty dead so far, so it doesn't come as a surprise that the shop is empty, either, until you notice the shadow of another person in your peripheral vision. A couple of aisles over, someone is picking out drinks from one of the refrigerators. Your gaze only lingers for a second, dropping as they turn around, but what you catch a glimpse of at the last moment makes your blood run cold.

Was that an ocular drone?

Frozen in place, you curse yourself for not having recorded it, even though of course you didn't fucking record it because there's no way, no way in hell you could ever have known that was coming, and-- They're gone, now, having moved back behind a taller shelf, and it takes a few seconds for you to unstick yourself from your place on the floor and dart down the adjacent aisle.

Despite your racing heart, you do your best to look casual and like you're absolutely not at all following this complete stranger as you briefly catch sight of them between aisles again. You don't see their face, but you do see their hand: metallic and marked with a glowing, white crescent. Just like yours. They still haven't noticed you - or if they have, they're ignoring you. You think about what might happen if you make eye contact. You think about why you're even trailing them in the first place. What's your goal, here? What are you trying to achieve?

You said you didn't want to remember. You said you wouldn't want to know them. But a voice speaks in your head:

You're desperate. You want answers. You need answers. Faced with this, right here, right now, this impossible chance, something you couldn't believe would ever actually come to fruition?

You'll take anything.

You stop again, this time at the end of an aisle, peeking around the corner just enough to see your quarry eyeing up the pharmaceutical section before quickly retracting your head. A woman, if you had to take a guess, about your height, with auburn hair long enough to cover the implants in her skull that you can only assume are there, and clad in light armour. Quality stuff - not something you'd find just anyone parading around in.

Lists of possible careers and loyalties are already flitting through your mind. This is so stupid. This could take a bad turn so fast. You don't know who she's working with. You don't know if she got out. You don't know what happened to the ones who stayed, and you don't know what damage that did, and you don't know if they held any care or sympathy for the others they were trained with by the end of it all.

Maybe they didn't. Maybe she wouldn't care the slightest bit for your shared past, and frankly you don't know if that would make it better or worse.

Your mouth is dry and you're struggling not to go into full panic mode: just walk right out of the store, tell nobody, pretend none of this ever happened, and carry on with your life never fully taking in the reality that there are other people like you in the world. You've always known it, but encountering someone else is so different and so much scarier than anything you could have imagined. How the fuck do you approach this? "Hey, weird question, but were you also forcibly operated on and put through intense combat training as a child by a cybernetics corp to be shunted into someone's private army?" Does she even know? Does she even remember?

You're so lost in your own head that when she rounds the corner from the aisle, it makes you jump, and you drop some of the food packets you'd had clenched in your fist this whole time. It catches her off-guard in turn - she reels back a little, blink, then gives you an apologetic look as she bends to help you collect the dropped items.

"Sorry--"

"No, it's fine, it's fine." You quickly dip your head to try and hide your left eye as you kneel down, hoping that your sleeves cover your hands and your collar hides the implants on your head well enough. Fuck. Fuck. Your heart is in your throat and you know you're going to have to look her in the face but maybe if you can drag this out long enough you can avoid it, or at least figure out what you're going to say, or-- or--

Taking a deep breath, you stand again, and do your best not to falter as you raise your head and reach out to accept the bag of chips the stranger holds out for you. Your eyes meet.

Time stops.

The air around you is heavy all of a sudden, dense, suffocating. Neither of you tries to hide the fact that you're staring right at each others' drones. If the ground opened up and you sunk straight down into hell right now, you'd be totally fine with that.

"Look, I..." You lose your train of thought immediately. There are so many thoughts and feelings fighting to make themselves known that none of them can make it through the door.

"Sorry." The stranger's expression is no longer apologetic. It's cold and a little angry and she turns and strides away towards the bored-looking orc cashier at the till with her bottles and packets of pills.

Fuck. Fucking shit. You scramble after her - not too close behind because you don't want to scare her even further - hurriedly pay for your things and try to cram the soda and cereal bars into your pockets as you tumble out of the shop door. Your head is on a swivel, hoping she hasn't gotten too far, and-- There she is, making a hasty exit down a street to the left.

You follow after her, not quite running, but she's moving quickly and you have to do the same to catch up.

"Hey." You slow as you draw near. "Wait, just a sec--"

She turns to face you. Faster than you can even register, you're suddenly flat against the wall of a nearby alleyway, pinned in place by one metal hand with another at your throat. You can feel the barrel of a machine pistol pressing against your neck.

"Did they fucking send you?" The stranger's eyes are narrow and her expression fierce. You have to recalibrate rapidly: things have gone south, and you need to be ready to fight, if it comes to it. But you didn't come here to shed blood.

"No."

"Don't fucking lie to me. Did they send you to bring me back? Because this is pathetic and they're going to have to try a lot harder."

"I'm not lying!" You squirm uncomfortably against the brick as she presses the gun harder into your throat. The mechanics inside whirr threateningly. "Nobody sent me. I'm not-- I just wanted to talk, okay? I just... wanted to talk."

Silence. Then the pressure on your throat eases up. You're no longer pinned down, but she hasn't sheathed her guns.

"Talk about what?"

You stare dumbly for a few moments. Put on the spot, your ability to form coherent sentences has gone straight out the window.

"I-- The--" You stop. Okay. Breathe. One thing at a time. "You're-- C&C Logistics, right?" God, even saying the words aloud makes you nervous. "Look, I'm sorry for following you. I know that was weird. I've never met anyone else... like this. From them. I don't actually remember anything from back then, so I just-- I thought--"

"What?"

"I don't know, okay?" This was a bad idea. This was a terrible idea, because you've held yourself together so well for years, and now all it's taken is a fucking breeze for that carefully-constructed fortress to begin to crumble, and you're ready to start crying at any second in front of someone you don't even know. You're vulnerable. You don't like to be vulnerable. Vulnerability is dangerous. "I don't know. I've been-- I'm looking for information. About them. I wasn't kidding when I said I don't remember anything. I just--"

You pause. You take a deep breath. You exhale slowly. Try again.

"I want to know who they are. I want to know why they made me-- make us-- and I want to know about who's... using people like us. What they planned on doing with us." The words leave such a bad taste in your mouth. It stings more than you'd like to admit to acknowledge, out loud, that you were once nothing more than a product to someone. That in a sense, you always will be.

"Like that isn't obvious?" She's giving you a look that sits somewhere between boredom and frustration. "So, what, you want all the gory details? You think I'm going to know all their dirty secrets?"

"No," you answer, weakly, all of a sudden feeling so stupid and so small in a way you haven't in a long time. "But..."

"But what?" She shifts her weight from one foot to the other. She's withdrawn her guns, at least, you notice. "Look, I have a client waiting for me, so if you're ready to stop wasting my ti--"

"I just wanted to talk to someone who gets it." The words are out of your mouth before you can stop them, and hey, Satan, if you're down there, that sinkhole would go down real smooth right now. Failing that, a well-timed interruption from one of your fellow scummers would do the trick. Unfortunately for you, a quick matrix sweep of the immediate area tells you none of them are close by, so it looks like Operation Hellhole is still your best prospect for getting the fuck out of this.

For a minute, there's just... quiet. The fight to hold back tears is a hard one. Crying always makes your left eye socket burn even though nothing comes out. You think about just walking away, but you need this. You opened this wound and now you need closure. This is a conversation you have to see to the end.

The stranger steps towards you again, but her guns remain sheathed.

"What's your name?"

You take a few ragged breaths and do your best to keep your voice from wobbling.

"Zenith."

The corners of the stranger's mouth twitch upwards.

"Hi, Zenith." She offers her hand out. You take it. "I'm Aubrey."

It's your turn to smile, and the smile breaks into laughter out of sheer relief-- relief that you're not dead already, or relief that you don't have to walk away feeling like you fucked this whole thing up, or something like that. Aubrey laughs, too. Just a little bit.

"So, you-- You're not with them, then," you say. A statement more than a question. Aubrey shakes her head.

"Transport accident," she states preemptively. "A bunch of us made it out. We got ourselves set up--money, ID--as fast as we could, then split. Figured we'd be harder for them to catch moving alone rather than in a group, if they wanted to track us down. I'm with a security firm now. You?"

You actually try to remember, like her story might have awoken something, but reaching back, your memory is as blank as ever. Nothing but white and static and vague shapes with no sense of time or place.

"I don't know," you answer finally; and, then, seeing her quizzical look: "I woke up in Seattle that was just... it. I knew how to hack and I knew how to fight. I was in the pro gaming scene for a while, but shadowrunning is... more interesting."

Aubrey's expression softens somewhat as you speak.

"And you don't remember anything before that?" When you shake your head, she laughs softly. "I'm kind of jealous."

"Well, it's not as fun as it sounds."

The laughter fades to a sad smile, and she looks away.

"You... shouldn't take it for granted. It's a good thing that you got out. It's not fun trying to break the mindset that you have no worth as a real person, either." She stops for a moment, still not looking at you. Her words make your chest ache. You're on the brink of an apology, but she lifts her head and speaks again before you can get a word in. "So, you're out here on a run? Seems like kind of a bum town for that sort of thing."

"No, actually. Well, kind of. We just stopped--"

"Oop." Aubrey raises a hand to stop you and blinks a couple of times; she seems to look past you for a second before zoning back in and sighing. "Sorry, I hate to cut this short, but my boss is hassling me. I was only meant to be gone ten minutes--"

"No, no, it's fine. I should probably figure out where the rest of my crew went, too." You take a moment to wipe away the tear residue from your eye. You step forwards, back towards the street, but both of you hesitate and exchange glances.

And then, unplanned and wordless but synchronised nonetheless, you reach out and wrap your arms around one another.

Something about it feels familiar. Deep in the recesses of your memories, something stirs; you think, maybe, that you shared similar embraces with other trainees, all those years ago. Perhaps you did care for one another, no matter how hard your superiors tried to beat the compassion out of you.

There is something unspoken yet knowing in the hug. An invisible, intangible energy passes between you; the silent recognition of the pain you both endured, the trauma it left, the way it still clings to you as you try to forge your new lives - and, now, in this impossible moment, the mutual reassurance that you can keep moving forward; the knowledge that you will. You hold on tight - just as she does to you - and linger for as long as you can before she eases away. When you finally separate, you still have one of her hands clasped in your own.

"It was nice to meet you, Zenith." Aubrey smiles again. "Sorry I almost killed you."

"Thanks. But trust me," you reply, unable to keep a grin off your face, "I've come way closer to death than that before." She chuckles, but then her brow furrows into a frown.

"Be careful out there, okay? If you really want to go looking for answers, you won't go unnoticed. They never completely write off runaways as losses."

"I will. I'll be careful." You look down at where your hands are joined: almost-identical silver fingers wrapped around one another, the brands on the backs of your palms glowing softly in the shadows of the buildings that rise up either side of you. You feel the distinct sensation that something inside you has changed; some part of you that you didn't even know existed no longer feels quite as empty as it would have done before today.

There's another brief silence. You can feel the question that threatens to break it hanging over you both.

"I don't think it's safe for us to stay in contact." You can't decide if the emotion her words flood you with is relief or disappointment.

"Probably not," you say, quietly, with a little affirmative nod. "We have a lot of angry people looking for us, and we've had to do some convoluted stuff with our comm security-- It's a whole thing." She looks concerned, but you can't help but smile, just thinking about how fucking crazy the last couple weeks have been. "Point is, if you're already worried about C&C or whoever else coming after you, you're better off not getting wrapped up in everything we have going on, too."

Your hands slip apart as the two of you step back out into the sunlight.

"I guess I won't see you again," Aubrey says. "But I hope you find what you're looking for."

"Yeah. Yeah, me too." You exhale heavily. "Just-- Thanks. For talking. Even just for a minute. And, y'know, I definitely looked like a creep for a minute back there, so don't feel too bad about putting a gun to my throat."

She grins, now, and opens her mouth to respond, but then a voice shouts from further down the street:

"Aubrey!"

She spins, looks at the figure waving at her, and then turns back to you with a shrug.

"Like I said, I gotta go." She's already backing away, half-turned to start jogging. "Good luck! Stay safe!"

"You too," you call back, and then you just stand there, watching, unwilling or unable to look away as her figure grows smaller until she eventually joins the other person at the end of the street. You get that ache in your chest again as they round the corner, and finally disappear out of sight. Somehow, you feel like you know her so much better than your short encounter could possibly have allowed.

A weathered hand suddenly claps you on the shoulder and makes you jump for the second time today.

"He-ey, Z! Who're you talking to?" Dak squints at the far end of the street where Aubrey just made her exit. You pause. You think. You speak.

"Just an old friend."

[goblins-riddles-or-frocks]

Moffat Dracula Review

Plot Summary For People Who Don’t Want To Watch It:

Dracula corners Jonathan, Mina, and Sister Agatha Van Helsing in a secluded convent in Budapest following Jonathan’s escape from his castle. The castle sequence itself is explained in flashback as Jonathan recounts his experience, leading up to the realization that he himself had died during his stay there. 

Realizing he’s now become some form of undead creature, he attempts to kill himself via a stake but is unsuccessful. Despairing at this, he invites Dracula inside the convent in exchange for a true death.  Agatha and Mina are able to stay safe within a circle of sacramental bread but everyone else is massacred. 

When Mina sees Dracula disguised as Jonathan approaching them, she invites him inside the circle. He of course reveals his identity immediately after. Agatha bargains her own life for Mina’s, so Dracula allows the other girl to go free.

Some time later, Dracula sets sail for England aboard the Demeter, a Russian ship with a strangely high number of wealthy passengers and a bluebeard’s cabin no one is allowed to enter. He quickly picks off the passengers one by one, meanwhile himself leading the effort to find the murderer onboard. 

This culminates in the remaining passengers finally searching the ship— and the mysterious cabin which is revealed to have been hiding a sickly Sister Agatha inside. She explains that Dracula is a vampire and together with the passengers they attempt to kill him by setting him on fire. But it is unsuccessful. Agatha urges everyone to escape on lifeboats because she intends to blow up the ship with her and Dracula in it before it is able to reach England. 

Dracula does not die but remains dormant under water. He reaches Whitby roughly 100 years later and is immediately captured by the Jonathan Harker foundation, lead by Agatha’s descendant Dr Zoe Van Helsing. He leaves captivity fairly quickly however with the help of Frank Renfield— a lawyer he hired over skype. 

Zoe is revealed to be dying of cancer. Dracula offers her his blood to heal her but it doesn’t seem to work. It instead gives her a bond to communicate with her dead ancestor Agatha, which gives her more insight about the vampire. 

Meanwhile, Dracula begins preying on Lucy Westenra, a young socialite. Despite leading a seemingly perfect life, she is wholly apathetic and disgruntled with her situation. She allows him to feed on her in exchange for the high a vampire’s bite can give her. He attempts to turn her into a vampire but she’s burned horribly once she’s cremated following her funeral.

Her death leads Zoe and Jack Seward to where Dracula has been staying. During their confrontation however Lucy returns, and after learning about her appearance, begs Jack to kill her, which he does. 

Zoe asks Jack to leave so she may speak to Dracula alone. She surmises that all of Dracula’s weaknesses are actually ineffective. The only thing he fears is death, and humanity’s willingness to die, She then... resolves to sit down and die right there. But at the last moment Dracula drinks her cancerous blood which should in turn kill him... they make out while dying... The end?

If that sounds like it makes no sense, it’s because it doesn’t. 

Final Thoughts:

The plot was nonsensical and the pacing was very poor and completely unstructured. The story itself bore little to no resemblance to Dracula at all, to the point where I wonder why they even bothered to keep the names. 

Most of the characters were new, and the few that were ported over from the Stoker novel had hardly anything in common with their original versions, Dracula included. 

Jonathan was the most in character of the bunch, if he was fairly more genre savvy while stuck in Dracula’s castle. Mina’s characterization seemed to be confined to a single flirtatious letter, an endless well of trust for Jonathan, and constant sobbing. She was more of a liability than anything else. 

Agatha served the role of a genderbent Van Helsing, though her manner was entirely lifted from the Coppola film. This could’ve been very cool if they hadn’t randomly made her a nun without actually committing to it at all. She was not really portrayed as having any actual lived experience as a nun in the victorian era. And faith as a concept was only touched on for her to dismiss— hilariously casually given her position.  

I think the actress’s performance was fairly decent, and she def grew on me in the second episode when she’s not actually in a convent to constantly remind us how dissonant of a nun she is. But it would’ve been nice if they would’ve either committed to actually making her a nun, (a legit vampire hunting nun could be so cool!) or just abandoning the concept altogether. Because the way it was presented just felt like window dressing. 

Also I’m not normally averse to shipping Van Helsing/Dracula but having to genderbend one of the two just to do it is like... hm. Also the weird tension they had going on was very badly executed in general. 

Speaking of Dracula, he had to be the weakest part of the show. He was written in the smuggest, most infuriating way possible. And it might have worked with another actor but this dude just did not have any gravitas or stage presence whatsoever. And it certainly was not helped by the fact that his costuming and makeup were so fucking lackluster. 

Despite being the linchpin of the story, he had no goals nor any particular drive. He was just out there doing Stuff for Reasons and none of them were compelling. It seemed like he was just killing to kill and the writing was not good enough to actually carry any of the vague themes about how he’s looking for new brides (why?) how he’s searching for a The Perfect Fruit (what???) or anything at all really. He had no depth whatsoever beneath his stupid quips and self-satisfied demeanor. 

There was an interesting implication that he needed to choose who he drinks carefully in order to maintain his own personality/sanity/sentience and that without blood he’d… apparently just become like any of the zombies we saw in the show. And that is such a cool concept! But it was not really  explored, nor was it written all that well. Even though it could’ve been (and I think was maybe intended to be???) an excellent source of existential dread! 

But yes, in general there was hardly any depth to this show. They played almost every possible card they could for shock value, and included many unnecessary and frankly underwhelming esoteric concepts that went nowhere. There was so much gore and random effects. We had zombies, vampire infants, and Dracula legit wearing people’s skins. The lore didn’t make any sense either, apparently people just… being unable to die despite their body’s so called death is a common occurrence? It wasn’t clear whether Dracula even had much control over who he changes and whether or not they become proper vampires. The entire thing just seemed poorly thought out. 

There were a lot of easter eggs and references to previous Dracula adaptations (and even some unrelated vampire media). I definitely noticed nods to the Hammer Horror movies and the Lugosi film, which was fun. The biggest noticeable influence however would have to be the 1992 Coppola movie. I have never seen a show try so hard to be another movie lmao. They even went so far as to make a spiritual successor to the film’s main theme that’s about as close as you could probably get without actually licensing the music. 

However, while the Coppola film at least had skill with regards to the costuming and cinematography to carry its aesthetic, this show simply did not. The costumes, the makeup, and the special effects were all lackluster. The set was nice enough but was not shot in a way to really leave much of an impression. 

The first episode was abysmal— mainly due to Dracula’s awful performance (those disgusting fungus covered fake nails, that age makeup, that ACCENT) and the entire awkward af scene where he terrorizes a convent of nuns while naked and covered in blood. But it was at least so bad it was funny.

The second episode was the most tedious to me because it was less offensively awful so I couldn’t even enjoy the badness. There was definitely a sharp uptick of quality whenever Dracula was offscreen for any notable amount of time though. The passengers were rather boring but I liked the crewmen. And Agatha honestly killed it for the latter half. 

The last episode was by far the worst and yet the most entertaining because they just stopped trying at that point. 

Renfield was amazing and an absolute delight every time he was on screen. Dracula found him over skype for God’s sake, how can that not be fantastic? He actually utters the words “Dracula has rights,” and his argument somehow actually fucking works.  

And even Dracula himself was far less insufferable with the shift in dynamics. By being forced to cope with the modern world, he could no longer act like such a smarmy, self-assured know it all. Seeing him freak the fuck out at the sight of helicopters was genuinely fun. 

Lucy’s handling was misogynistic af though. It was bafflingly, needlessly awful. And the way she was vilified at the very end was appalling. They almost had an interesting deconstruction wrt her utter malaise for her life, and the implication that she actually resents her beauty. But then of course she gets burned alive, and then is treated horribly for it by the protagonists. 

Even though it’s clear she has no idea what’s happened to her body, Zoe doesn’t even bother to explain it to her. She just makes her take a selfie of all things so she can see what she really looks like. It didn’t seem like the show had a shred of sympathy for her, because “oh, clearly she was a narcissistic bitch and she deserved what she got” or something like that?? 

The utter indifference everyone has to her death is baffling. It was an afterthought, that seemed like its only purpose for existing was yet again just shock value. The scene, after her death, immediately shifting the focus back to whatever weird personal rivalry that borders on sexual tension  Agatha/Zoe and Dracula have going on.  

But all in all, this adaptation had me baffled, frustrated, and cringing through most of it. It was unintentionally funny quite often and I honestly enjoyed it, but for all the wrong reasons. I highly recommend it to anyone who wants to melt their fucking brain.

[saiilorstars]

The Girl in the Forest

Chapter 16: Clarity

// Story Masterlist //

Fandom: The Originals

Pairings: Klaus Mikaelson x Original Female Character

Pronunciation of OC’s name: Ma-leh-nee

Requested tag: @queenmj10​

~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~

Chapter Summary: Mikael has Maleny and is hell-bent on making Klaus finally pay for everything done in the past. Still, despite her situation, Maleny finally comes to terms with her feelings.

Klaus angrily paced back and forth outside Davina's cabin as he left a voicemail to Elijah, "Elijah, where are you? Mikael is loose with the stake, and Maleny is a hostage, and I am weaponless and in need of reinforcement. Urgently!"

He hung up and returned to the cabin where Kol was calmly rocking back and forth in a rocking chair, Davina still unconscious, "Wake her up," Klaus ordered him, "Tell her to get Mikael back here, now."

"Well, let me- let me think about that," Kol tilted his head in pretend thought, "No! I've got nothing against Maleny, honestly - she was my little mischievous companion after all."

"Okay, now is our time, Maleny," Kol declared to the older blonde beside him.

The two were standing side by side a short distance from a table full of various snacks the villagers had put out for their evening celebration. No one was supposed to have any until the celebration properly started.

Just as Kol started for the table, Maleny anxiously grabbed his arm, pulling him back, "You know we're not supposed to touch anything," she reminded him, "There are rules-"

"Oh c'mon, Maleny," Kol turned to her, pleading with her, "We went over this - remember the plan?"

"Ummm..." Maleny looked to the side, feeling guilty for having even thought about going with his plan.

"Mal?" Kol asked again, giving her a pout, "I said we would share and you know I don't disappoint my adoptive sister, so..."

At that Maleny, arched an eyebrow, "You make Rebekah suffer some times."

"Yeah, but half the time she deserves it," Kol shrugged then smiled at her, "But you're not like her. You're nicer, you're definitely a lot more fun than she is. You're like the sister I always wanted."

"Oh, don't be rude," Maleny playfully hit his arm, "And fine...but I want some berries," she pointed to the bowl of her favorite fruit.

"Got it," Kol beamed, sloppily kissing her cheek before heading out to do their plan.

Maleny chuckled to herself, heading to do her task of distraction in the meantime. She was to distract the one preparing the tables, Miss Heartfield - a terrible, strict old woman. If Maleny was honest, she was terrified by the woman but Kol promised her it wouldn't take more than two minutes max for him to snatch up what they wanted.

Kol kept to his word - in two minutes flat he was motioning to Maleny it was time to go. Giggling like a child would, the blonde scurried after him.

"I told you it would be easy," Kol said as they sat down on the ground, their backs against a home wall, both of them munching on their respective snacks.

"I am never doing that again," Maleny warned him as she dropped a couple of berries into her mouth, but both knew that was false.

She had said the same thing mere days ago.

Kol smiled to himself after reliving his memory. He then looked back at Klaus who remained furious than ever by the entrance of the cabin, "Self preservation, you see," he continued his excuse, "I stay in here, Mikael can't get to me. Well, go on then."

Klaus actually felt like killing Kol on the spot for his dismissal at the problem. But he saw there was no use in wasting time with Kol, "We're not done here!" he warned and then sped out to find Maleny.

~ 0 ~

Somewhere deep in the woods by the bayou, Mikael dragged along Maleny in a tight hold.

"You know, I remember you being awful and unnecessarily cruel but this is beyond ridiculous!" the blonde angrily shouted, almost able to hide her fear that coursed through her blood.

"And I seem to remember you weren't a big mouth back then," Mikael replied in a snarky tone, "I assume Niklaus taught you that."

"Who, by the way, is already looking for you," Maleny glared at him, "And we all know what happens when Klaus Mikaelson loses his temper."

Mikael sneered as he came to a stop, "Oh, you are an amusing girl - always have been. But let me tell you, amuseming and entertaining will have you killed eventually," he pointed Papa Tunde's blade at her, "And because you are oh-so-close to Niklaus, your end will be even sooner."

Maleny raised an eyebrow, "And you believe somehow this will make me go against him? If you believed you could do that you wouldn't have taken me as leverage. Because that's why you took me, isn't it?"

Though Mikael was irritated the plan was so easily visible, he stated, "Once I threaten to dismember you in front of him, Klaus will hesitate. And, in that moment of weakness, I shall end him."

"This is so wrong!" Maleny erupted into angry shouts, shaking off Mikael's arm in the process. He knew she couldn't out run him anyways so he let her be, "You have never seen Klaus as your son and when there was finally real proof that he actually wasn't, you went hysterical. You've literally been obsessing over the death of someone whose fatal flaw is that he was fathered by another guy! If there's anyone you should be going after it's Esther - she's the one who betrayed you."

"Hush! You are the enabler of the weak!" Mikael pointed, "No wonder he always sought your company."

"Cos I understood him, clearly," Maleny argued, but her mind wronged her by reminding her of a period where that wasn't true.

Maleny was quietly tending to pile of cloths inside her home when she happened to look up and see Klaus passing by. Immediately, she dropped her things and called for him, "Klaus!" she ran for her open door.

"Stay there!" the newly made vampire (or hybrid) ordered her just as she came to the door.

Startled, Maleny froze in her spot, "I...I know what happened out there," she nodded for the forest, "Rebekah, she...told me."

"Then you know what I have become," Klaus opened his arms and walked towards her, unable to really look her in the eyes, "A beast..."

Maleny's eyes lowered in clear sympathy for him, "I'm sorry...I..."

She'd heard from Esther about the savagery state Klaus had entered early at dawn, unable to control himself (as well as the others) after trying to decently feed off people in the forest. They would have died if they hadn't been stopped by Mikael and Finn. She'd wanted to go find him immediately but Esther had stopped her, warning Maleny of the danger she would be placing herself in.

"You are going to stay in there, Maleny," Klaus pointed towards Maleny's home, making the blonde take a quick glance back, "and you are not going to look for me-"

Maleny blinked in confusion, "What? But I-" and when she tried taking a step out of her house Klaus shouted.

"Stay in there!"

The blonde flinched under the harsh tone. Her blue eyes had widened, not in horror but of pain. She was quite used to her father using the same tone to talk to her, but never from Klaus.

"Maleny, I am...something bad," Klaus said, putting in simpler terms, "I have to feed off people to survive and it is a difficult struggle to have control."

"That's not your fault," Maleny whispered, her hand reaching out to his only to have him step back, "Klaus, why are you doing this?" her eyes began rapidly blinking as they watered, "I know what you are. I am not afraid."

"But I am," Klaus confessed under a shaky tone, "You do not understand Maleny. I can hear your heart pumping blood, blood I now crave, blood that warms your pink cheeks. And the last thing I want is for you to become my next prey."

Maleny's tears had begun running down her face, "I know you won't hurt me…"

"Give me time, Maleny. Pain is the last thing I want to cause you."

"Then stop this madness right now," Maleny weakly ordered, stepping out of her home's boundary. She purposely inched closer to him, running her fingers up his arm, "Let me be there for you. I can...I can help you..." she offered, though no specific ideas came to mind at the moment.

Klaus nearly fell under her charms as she brushed her lips against his. But her delicious, human scent became more prominent in the air, and her heartbeat rang in his ears. He pushed her away, making her stumble back into her home, " Stay away from me, Maleny," he whispered, doing a surprisingly good job of hiding his tears, "Stay indoors, where I cannot reach you - nor my siblings," with his final warning he turned away and walked off.

Maleny shut her eyes as she remembered the awful period she'd spent lonesomely whilst Klaus kept away from her. She didn't realize Mikael had taken an interest in distant music that had carried over through their silence.

"I hear music," he declared, glancing back at her, "And, where there's music, there's food."

"Oh," Maleny crinkled her nose, "leave them alone."

"Would you rather it be you I feed off, then?" Mikael challenged, coming back to her.

"Frankly, yes," Maleny nodded, making him laugh.

"How heroic of you," he snagged Maleny by the arm, dragging her towards his next meal's location, "Where'd you learn that one? Because it certainly wasn't from that hybrid."

"This may come as a shocker to you, Mikael, but I do have qualities that are all mine," Maleny rolled her eyes.

But Mikael sneered in return, dismissing her statement, "Oh please, ever since I could remember you were after my family like a lost-"

"I had lost my mother, you ignorant fool!" Maleny snapped, and soon saw the error she made when Mikael abruptly stopped and faced her with rage. Knowing he would break her if he overdid it, he settled for a hard strike across the face. Maleny fell to the ground, drowning her painful screeches as best she could. She looked up, mustering up her courage, "My life was hell after my mother died. My father was cruel and did nothing but hit me and treat me like a servant. I wasn't 'after your family' - I loved them like they were my own."

"Oh how truly sappy," Mikael rolled his eyes and turned away from her, trying to once again locate the distant music.

"Don't be snappish because you weren't able to learn what love was," Maleny said, earning herself a threatening glare back.

"And you think you know what that is?" he challenged, quickly getting the answer.

"Yes, I do-"

"Oh, really?"

"-I know what it is," Maleny spoke over him, "I do. I felt it before I even knew what it was."

Mikael stalked back to her, leaning down as she was still on the ground, "You think what you felt for Niklaus was..." he sardonically laughed, "...love?"

Maleny looked to the side, "Yes...there was no other word for it. Finn, Elijah, and Kol, I loved them to bits and pieces but...as brothers. They were my brothers. But Klaus, I..." she sighed, "...he made the simplest of things such puzzles..."

"Maleny," Rebekah came up to the blonde girl that was just coming out from the forest with a basket of damp clothes on her side, "Oh, thank God I found you. I need your help!"

Maleny didn't even get a word in before Rebekah dragged her by the arm towards a wooden table full of materials needed for basket making, "Let me guess," Maleny began when Rebekah cut her off frantically.

"I completely forgot I had to do this and now my mother is going to come back and shout at me or worse - she's going to-"

"Rebekah," Maleny rose her voice, completely amused by her. Rebekah blinked rapidly, trying to calm, while Maleny put down her basket on the edge of the table, "I can help you. I just finished washing clothes so I have time."

"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!" Rebekah beamed and got straight to work with the blonde beside her.

"Now dear Maleny," they heard Elijah's voice, "don't tell me you're honestly falling for our sister's clever lies."

Maleny looked up, as did Rebekah, and saw Elijah and Klaus coming towards them. Immediately her hands fumbled with the bits she held between her fingers.

"I am not lying," Rebekah huffed, indignant of her brother's accusation.

"Just last week you asked poor Maleny to help you in..." Klaus stopped a moment to remember the task but frowned and looked at Maleny, "...what was it again, Mal?"

"U-uh...fruit collecting," Maleny answered almost instantaneously.

"Right, and then two days ago she asked you to...?"

"Help her wash clothes."

Rebekah looked between her brother and Maleny, at first annoyed Maleny was just giving into the accusations but then she saw Maleny's face and, well...she sighed in defeat. Anything Klaus wanted to know from her she would automatically spill. However, she failed to see Klaus' face whenever Maleny spoke.

Elijah did not. He was outright bemused by the sudden silence that fell between the four. Maleny had returned to her basket making, though her fingers seemed to have lost their talent like if she had never even learned. Meanwhile, Klaus took to staring at her like she was doing the most interesting craft in the world.

But Maleny's yelp cut through the awkward air. She had accidentally poked herself and drew blood from her index finger. "Maybe I won't help," she said afterwards, wincing as she touched her finger, "Ow..."

"Here," Klaus gently took her hand into his, startling Maleny. She blushed madly, rapidly blinking. She felt her heart beating so violently she actually thought for a minute it would simply burst. It was an annoyance sometimes, honestly, to constantly be nervous around someone to the point where it became true fear they might muck it up some way. But she never wished for it to stop.

Maleny smiled to herself, forgetting the monstrous man she had inches from her, "Even to making a bloody basket was difficult for me..." she actually forgot the feelings Klaus provoked - and probably without even knowing it.

Mikael had heard enough and yanked the woman to her feet, gripping both her wrists, "You were doomed from the start, then," he declared and dragged her for the nearby human camp settlement, ignoring her struggles.

~ 0 ~

"Hayley!" Cami came frantically through the courtyard of the compound, "Hayley!"

"What!?" Hayley came out from one of the rooms upstairs, "I know you're kinda new at this but you realize I have super hearing, right?"

Cami ignored the sarcasm with a shake of her head, "Has Elijah came back yet!?"

The name of the Original put Hayley on edge, "...no."

Cami deeply sighed and ran a hand through her hair, "He's gonna MIA and that's not like him. I told you, he should've came in last night."

Hayley shifted on her feet as she admitted, "I couldn't quite track Oliver either."

That sent Cami a whole new wave of worriment, "If they're both missing then something happened, something Esther did I'm sure."

"We've got to find them," Hayley muttered and hurriedly went for the stairs.

"Please," Cami nearly sounded like she was begging, but she simply couldn't help it.

Even Gia had told her to calm down and just let Elijah call her when he called her. She made Cami rethink all of this 'distancing' idea with how worried she was over the Original. It certainly didn't seem like Cami wanted to stay away.

~ 0 ~

Mikael dragged Maleny into a run-down warehouse and once they were at the center of the prime room he shoved her to the dirty floor.

"You're a monster!" Maleny pushed her hair out of her face and glared up at the man, "But then that's nothing new. You've always been a monster, a cruel man, and always towards Klaus."

"I didn't always hate him," Mikael interjected, "When Klaus was born, I was overjoyed. I thought, 'This one- this one has the eyes of a warrior. He will be worthy.' But, my hope was short-lived. And, when I found out that he wasn't really my son, my relief was glorious. But, that passed with the knowledge that he was begat of a beast."

"Esther's infidelity was not his fault!" Maleny felt like a broken record as she said those words, "How do I get that through your thick head!?"

"Everything that followed was because of Niklaus' obsession with the wolves! He ventured out to watch them turn under the full moon, and he took my youngest son, Henrik. He was but a child, and he was torn apart."

"But that was an accident!" Maleny got up to her feet.

"An accident?" Mikael nearly lost it then, "AN ACCIDENT? HE MURDERED MY WIFE! HIS OWN MOTHER! Who sought to cleanse him of his beast-like nature! He betrayed me. He turned my entire family against me! And yet, you defend him?"

"You didn't need anyone to make your children turn against you!" Maleny shouted right back but her voice hardly equaled his roar, "You were an awful father right from the start! Everything that happened was because of you - you and Esther."

"And what about you, my dear?" Mikael appeared to be amused by her, "Are you going to forget you participated in the very spell that created vampires?"

A distraught Esther and Mikael were coming out of a friend's (or ex-friend now) house when Maleny approached them, appearing rather nervous.

"I can help," the blonde declared, her fingers playing with each other as a way to relieve her nervousness. Esther looked at the young woman, expecting some explanation, "I know what you're trying to do to Klaus and the others...and I want to help."

"You?" Mikael couldn't help the scoff come from his mouth.

However, Esther seemed less reluctant, "Now wait a minute, I have taught her everything she knows and she is Abigail's daughter, meaning her power is grand."

"I will help as much as I can," Maleny promised.

"Do you even understand what we are trying to do?" Mikael wondered.

"Not completely," Maleny admitted sheepishly, "but I know you are trying to help Klaus and I will do anything to facilitate that."

Esther exchanged a brief glance with Mikael and quickly compiled an easy lie to really get the girl, "We want to strengthen our children, make it so that no one can hurt them."

Maleny seemed pleased with what she heard and smiled, "Then I will most definitely help. All I ask in return is that you allow me to keep seeing your children. I have lost who I loved most when I was a child and I do not wish for that to repeat itself."

Mikael smirked and nodded, "Then it is a deal, child."

"No, I stand by what I did," Maleny straightened up, "Because when I did it I was told it would strengthen them, never to make them into vampires. You and Esther lied, and that is why it's your fault. Do not stand there and blame me, Klaus, Elijah, Rebekah or any of your children for being what they are - for what you and your wife did."

Mikael super sped up to her and grabbed her by the neck, "I used to have appreciation for you," he seemed to be studying her face, "As a child you reminded me of my eldest daughter who died. When you grew up, I thought you would make a fine addition to the family as the wife of one of my sons..."

"I would've happily done that," Maleny coughed as the air struggled to get into her lungs.

"Oh no, no - you speak of Niklaus when I speak of my true sons," Mikael gripped her throat just a little tighter. Maleny's hands flung to his arms, trying to push him off, "Perhaps Finn? Elijah? or Kol? He was nearer to your age..."

"That would've happened over my dead body!" Maleny shouted and kicked his shin. While it did no actual harm, Mikael was forced to let go of her from the sudden spark of pain. Maleny immediately took a deep breath.

"You are a stupid girl," Mikael snatched her by the arm, baring his fangs out for her.

"N-n-n-n-no! Don't-"

But Mikael bit down on her neck and Maleny screamed in utter pain.

~ 0 ~

In the location of Mikael's earlier meal in the woods stood Klaus who finished feeding off the remainders of the living humans. He needed all the bits of strength he could gather if he wanted to save Maleny. His mind was buzzing with all the different strategies that could possibly guarantee Maleny returning home with her life, even if it was just her who was left alive. He hadn't stopped cursing himself for being the complete careless man he kept swearing to Maleny he wouldn't be to keep her safe. Every time he got the smallest distraction (and usually by her ironically) she was hurt.

His phone ringing interrupted his grim thoughts, and when he answered he didn't bother hiding his impatience and rage, "What the hell do you want now, Hayley!? I'm a busy."

"That's rude, even for you," Hayley said back, and Klaus could picture her rolling her eyes, "I take it you've done no progress with Maleny whatso-"

"Don't speak further if you know what's good for you!" Klaus snapped, "Was there a point to this phone call?"

"Something has happened to Elijah. He was supposed to be our decoy last night, and now he's vanished. There's blood everywhere- werewolf and vampire. There's a trail. Cami and I need you to help us track it."

Klaus pinched the bridge of his nose as he mentally added one more problem to his list, "Well, as much as I might like to help you find my brother, I have more pressing matters as the moment."

"What's more important than your own brother?" Hayley indignantly inquired.

"Not 'more important' simply a main priority," Klaus clarified, "Starting with the only one out of all of us that still has a live, beating heart."

"Maleny?" Hayley repeated, confused, "What's happened?"

"Mikael took her," Klaus answered, his rage bubbling in each of the words, "He took her and I'm trying to find her - on my own - before she's truly hurt."

"So you have a plan, then?"

"Not exactly. Mikael now has Tunde's blade and the white oak stake but I'm sure I'll come up with something."

"Klaus, are you out of your mind!?"

"Frankly, yes, but I'm sure that'll go away once I find Maleny...because I will find her," Klaus almost promised at the spot, "And then I'm gonna end this. Either Mikael or I will be ash by day's end."

"I think we would all prefer for the ashes to be Mikael's," Hayley cut in, sounding less irritated than before, "Be careful, and bring back Mal. Cami and I will work to get Elijah back."

"Sounds like a plan," Klaus said, though really the thought of his family hadn't even crossed his mind once since he'd began searching for Maleny. There was no room to think of anything else that didn't involve Maleny.

~ 0 ~

Cami was inside the bedroom she often used in the compound when she stayed overnight. She held Elijah's gifted journal in her hands, skimming a couple paragraphs across several pages. When she heard footsteps nearing, she looked up and saw Hayley coming in. She closed her journal, awkwardly placing her hands over it like she were protecting it from unwanted eyes.

Hayley saw the action and lightly smiled, "I'm not gonna pick the lock and peek," she playfully warned.

"Sorry," Cami flushed and looked down.

"You know Elijah often looked at that thing while you were gone," Hayley leaned against the dresser, smirking at Cami's horrified face, "I literally mean staring at its covers," Hayley clarified, "As if Elijah would peak into you diary."

"Right..." Cami bit her lip, feeling slightly guilty for thinking Elijah would read her private thoughts when he was the one who gifted her the journal.

"He missed you a lot," Hayley said quietly, "I think he would be happy to see you this concerned over him."

"Just because I left didn't mean I stopped caring for you guys," Cami shrugged.

"Oh c'mon, Cami, if Elijah had done the same thing you did wouldn't you feel a little distraught?"

Cami sighed, rubbing her face in frustration, "God, I messed up. I didn't...I didn't mean to cause all this trouble. I was having problems of my own and I just...I took an abrupt decision, okay? Everyone does it."

"Agreed," Hayley raised her hands to show her neutral side.

"I just...I just want him back here," Cami then said quieter, "Is Klaus on his way?"

"Yeah, about that..." Hayley pushed herself off the dresser and walked about in the room, "...see, there's another problem that he really has to take care of right now."

"What?" Cami frowned. "Is he serious? We need him here to help us find Elijah!"

"Cami," Hayley sharply looked at her, "he's trying to find Maleny."

Cami blinked rapidly for a couple seconds, "C-come again now? Why would he need to find Maleny? I thought he was following her?"

"They found Mikael, apparently, and I guess he broke free from Davina's spell or something because he took Maleny..."

"What!?" Cami jumped from her spot on the bed, letting her journal fall to the floor, "My cousin's missing and you didn't tell me right away!?"

"Sorry," Hayley meekly apologized, "Look, he's going to find Mal and we're going to find Elijah."

"We need to help find Maleny," Cami shook her head, quickly prioritizing in her mind.

"What? But what about Elijah?"

"You said that this place," Cami gestured to the compound, "was home for me too and that everyone here was family. We find the person who needs more help. Elijah's an Original and wherever he is he can't die but Maleny can. He would want us to go find her first."

Hayley could hear Elijah saying something similar, as he once showed it when he chose her before Klaus and Rebekah during Celeste's awful game. It was necessary prioritizing.

~ 0 ~

It wasn't long before Klaus caught up with Mikael's trail to the abandoned warehouse. He was walking in with no weapons save a makeshift stake from a discarded shovel he found outside. It was nothing compared to what Mikael possessed but it was all there was and he was going to fight no matter what.

He barely contained himself he came into the warehouse and found Mikael holding Maleny at knife-point. He could see Maleny already weakened by the dried up blood on her neck from an earlier feeding - her face of cuts and dirt were the prominent second. Her eyes begged to be helped as the knife poked her flesh.

"You're gonna pay for hurting her," he angrily warned, moving for them but Mikael purposely pricked Maleny's neck to keep him back, "You always talk about what a 'man' should do and yet you use a mortal in your fights?"

Mikael scowled at the accusation, "I don't need a mortal in my battles - I already have two weapons that could easily kill you. She was merely insurance that you followed the trail. However, I did make her a promise that I'd drain the rest of her right in front of your eyes, just before you burn."

"LET HER GO!" roared Klaus, baring his hybrid face. He charged with enough speed to prevent Mikael from threatening Maleny again. He pushed Mikael across the room towards the wall, but from the great blow they broke into the second room.

Maleny fell to the floor and gasped, her hand flying to her blood-covered neck. She winced at the many crashes from the other room and looked around for anything that could help bring down Mikael. She decided nothing could beat the white oak stake but it didn't mean she couldn't use her magic to help Klaus get an advantage over Mikael. Pushing herself up to her feet, she drew a big breath and focused on a spell.

In the next room, Klaus had gotten Mikael down to the floor and was able to retrieve the white oak stake. However, Mikael then flung to Papa Tunde's blade towards Maleny, making Klaus leave speed into the main room to catch the blade before it could hurt Maleny. In doing so, he allowed Mikael to retrieve the white oak stake again from the floor. Mikael wasn't one to waste time so sped up to Klaus and stabbed him in the chest.

To Maleny, it almost felt as if her world has stopped then, "NOO!" she screamed in horror.

Klaus gave his own shriek of pain, his face beginning to desiccate with the stake embedded in his chest. Mikael eagerly awaited for the fire to begin and truly end Klaus but when nothing happened he became furious.

"Why aren't you burning? If you were dead, it would burn. Burn!"

Maleny's breath hitched in her throat when she realized the same thing. There was a spell brewing and it was close by. Whatever it was, it was holding back the stake's power, meaning there was still time to save Klaus. As soon as Mikael left the room to find the mysterious spell's origin, Maleny dashed towards Klaus.

She dropped to her knees and began pulling on the stake, trying to get it out, "C'mon, c'mon, c'mon," she grunted, ignoring her teary eyes as best she could. She didn't know when the spell would stop so she needed to be quick, but her weakness had proven a little stronger, "Isabelle, please help," she whispered and took a deep breath and she reached out to her French coven's help. Once she felt the power source through her veins, she finally pulled the stake from Klaus' chest.

She began smiling when she saw the color return to his face, even though it would take a little longer for him to wake up. What she would give to hear one of his sarcastic remarks, or anything for that matter. Because if he spoke, he would be fine, and then she would be fine too.

"What do you think you're doing?" Mikael's voice startled her into getting up.

She gripped the stake in her hands, holding towards him, "Stay the hell away from us! Or, I swear to God, I'll kill you myself."

Mikael looked mildly impressed, "You have a warrior's heart. Perhaps I'll keep it as a souvenir."

"That's funny - you think I'm alone in this," Maleny smirked with a tilt of her head, "One thing about witches, most of us stand together," she lowered the stake and mustered all her energy to match Isabelle's coven's and with a powerful gust of wind flung Mikael back against a wall, "I am not the naive girl of forest anymore, Mikael. I've learned my share of battle techniques with the centuries!" she made for it to cause an aneurysm, though it was simultaneously draining what little energy she had left.

Thankfully, Hayley appeared, along with Marcel, and started pounding on Mikael. Cami ran straight in for her blonde cousin who wobbled on her feet.

"Now, ENOUGH!" Mikael roared in rage, finally able to shove Marcel backwards, "This night has been a long parade of fools. I'll enjoy killing every last one of you."

Klaus finally woke up with a gasp and wasted no time in getting up. Hayley grabbed a silver chain off the floor and threw it around Mikael's neck, pulling hard enough to knock him off his feet.

"Yeah, I wouldn't bet on it," she cast a smirk.

Davina entered the room in a hasty run, her neck oozing with blood Mikael had decided to feed on due to her spell. She went straight for Maleny, feeling awful she'd let her get caught in the crossfire. Though that also added to the many opponents Mikael already had - and that he knew.

"It's over, Mikael. You're outnumbered," Klaus called out to the man, "Are you going to beg for your miserable life?"

Mikael laughed, "You think having people makes you strong? It proves how weak you are. Come find me when you don't have fools, women and children fighting your battles," he threw them a scrap of wood at them before speeding out of the place.

The relief flooding the room became evident with the sighs that came out of everyone. After things got settled, Hayley and Marcel went to give the immediate area a final check for Mikael. Davina knew she had to get back to her 'friend' Kol who was outside, probably unconscious from Mikael's attack, but she wanted to have a word with Maleny first. She only took two steps forwards when Cami blocked the way.

"Cami, I just want to-"

"You've overdid it this time, Davina," the blonde scolded, though it was clear Cami struggled to be severely angry. She was still used to seeing Davina as just some kid who continued to be caught in crossfires of supernaturals. But now that she was a vampire, she had to force herself to see Davina as what she was: a witch with great power.

"I know," Davina agreed, but she wasn't sorry for trying to kill Klaus. She was only sorry Maleny got hurt and Marcel nearly died.

"Then you know I don't want to see you right now," Maleny called from her spot across the room, now sitting down on a wooden bench. She was waiting for Klaus to return with something to help her clean herself up. She needed Davina to be out of the room by that time that happened. God knows what the raging hybrid might do to the teen then.

"Mal, I'm really sorry," Davina ran a hand through her hair, frustrated.

"I know you are," Maleny could tell by her face the teen was genuinely sorry for her actions but it didn't erase all that happened, "I just don't want to see you right now. I think I'm entitled that after the day I had."

"If I can just explain-"

"Explain what, Davina?" Maleny couldn't help the cold tone lacing her words. She would've stood up if she felt herself again but for the moment she was stuck to the bench, "That you wanted to kill Klaus? Yeah, I heard the story. There's nothing to explain."

"You can't defend him, Mal! He's not a good person-"

"And neither are you, but you don't see me calling you out," Maleny said sourly, "I know what Klaus did to you and you don't know how sorry I am for that. You didn't deserve it."

"He killed Tim!" Davina exclaimed, her anger getting the best of her, "How can you defend that? Do you know how that feels?"

"See that's what I want you to think about," Maleny replied with, "If you know how that feels, losing someone you care about...why would you want to condemn to feel the same thing? After centuries of this curse, I...I don't think I could bear losing him anymore. If he dies then I will follow him."

"Mal, he's not…" Davina's eyes widened, gesturing back, "...he's not...he's not a good person! He's not worth it! You can do so much better-"

"I already have what I want from life and rest assure I will fight against anyone who threatens that," and however she could, she managed to stand but when Cami saw her wobbly legs she ran over to help, "And I'm sorry Davina, but if that means I have to fight you too...then I will."

Davina's eyes became glossy with the declaration, but she would not back down from what she felt was right, "Well," she swallowed down, "then I guess you've picked your side."

"I don't hate you Davina," Maleny whispered, "You're like a little sister to me..."

"I don't hate you either," Davina replied with the same whisper-like tone. Seeing there was no other thing to do, she turned on her heels and walked out.

Maleny sniffled and Cami slowly sat her down, "I'm sorry, Mal."

"For what?" Maleny sighed, "It wasn't you that tried to kill Klaus. I should be thanking you, actually. I heard Elijah's missing and yet you came down to help."

"Yeah well, Marcel learned what was going on and if Klaus dies so does he so that's how we got our ride here."

"And you?" Maleny looked at her cousin studiously, "You've gone for two weeks and you suddenly came by to help?" Cami guiltily looked to the side, "What happened, Cami?" Maleny asked quietly, "Elijah came back and said you two had a disagreement or something…"

"Petty disagreement," Cami dismissed the Original's topic with a clear of her throat.

"Right, well that 'petty disagreement'," Maleny did air quotation marks, "had Elijah moping around like never before," she then noticed the blush creeping over Cami's cheek, making her begin to smirk, "Cami...is there something you'd like to share with me?"

Cami thanked her lucky stars that Klaus came into the room as she was no where near ready to talk about that with Maleny.

"Not much but I did find this," the hybrid waved a long towel in his hand, "Marcel might be pretty irritated I ransacked his car."

Maleny smiled as he came up to them and Cami felt it was time to for her to go, "I'll go see if Hayley and Marcel are back," she excused herself with rapidness and hurried out.

"What's wrong with her?" Klaus asked curiously as he watched the blonde vampire head out rapidly.

"Oh, I'm pretty sure she's got the hots for your brother but doesn't realize it yet," Maleny shrugged casually and took the towel from him, "But don't tell anyone I said that."

Klaus would've laughed at her if it hadn't been for everything that had happened earlier. He bent down in front of her to clear up the dried blood from her when she noticed the stab wound on his chest hadn't cleared up yet.

"Is that going to hurt longer?" she whispered, gently placing a hand over the wound.

"It'll be fine soon enough," Klaus took her hand and gripped it, "You pulled the stake out in the nick of time. A moment longer, and I would have been done for."

Horrified to even hear that thought, she shook her head, "Don't even say it. I don't...I don't ever want to hear the possibility of that. Instead, I'd like to hear how we plan to kill Mikael as soon as we get the chance. Because I want him dead - to ashes if possible."

Klaus raised an eyebrow, taken aback by the cold bluntness in her tone, "Well, and here I thought you'd be getting rest and-"

"Listen," Maleny stopped him with her other hand, "When we stop Mikael and find Elijah then you can be a good nurse this time and put me to bed…" and then she thought how that sounded out a second later, "...okay, that sounded less awkward in my head," Klaus smirked and Maleny, embarrassed, laughed and hid her face behind her hands, "Shut up, just shut up and don't say anything."

Klaus lowered her hands from her face and softened as he reached to touch the bite marks still clear on her neck, "You shouldn't have been caught in this…"

"I've always been in this and that's the way I want it to be," Maleny firmly told him, "This is my side, my choice and no one's going to take it from me," surprised, Klaus blinked and slowly began to smile.

"You made your decision," Klaus felt like a child the way he said it, unable to hide his relief and happiness as he cupped her face.

"In the end, this is my family," Maleny softly said, purposely leaning forwards, "I came so far and I'm not losing any one of you for anything nor anyone."

She had the most beautiful of smiles across her face, so Klaus thought. He traced her lips with a thumb, wondering what kind of scold he would get from her if he stole a kiss off her. Unfortunately, mere seconds after he decided going for one, the others returned.

"So, Mikael's no where to be seen," Hayley announced, eyeing the pink-faced Maleny.

Klaus rose to his feet and turned to the trio, looking less embarrassed than Maleny, "I appreciate your assistance."

Marcel smiled, "Well, hey! You die, I die. Just call me selfish," but his eyes moved to Maleny and for the first time since they met, he spoke to her a in a kind tone, "I'm glad you're okay too, Maleny."

The blonde nodded, "Thank you. I'm glad my cousin's been in good care for this past week. I really appreciate that."

"And now that everything's a little better, I think we all need to turn our attention to Elijah," Cami reminded them all, hoping she didn't sound rude, "And we should hurry up."

And just like she wanted, they did.

~ 0 ~

One day passed and to everyone's misfortune (especially Cami's) Elijah was no where in sight. It led Klaus to do his common strategies when time was turning precious - torture. Consequently, in her piano room, Maleny desperately tried to drown out the shrill cries of pain by trying to successfully reproduce a tune Elijah had been meaning to teach her.

"Lavender's blue..." she mumbled to herself, wincing every now and then, "...lavender...lavender..." but then came the biggest scream possible and she quit, "Ah!" she growled in frustration and raised her hands, balling them into fists.

It had been her ridiculous attempt to get over being kidnapped and nearly killed instead of going for the usual 'take a rest and nap' thing. Clearly, nothing would be working. Taking a breath, she got up and left the room.

She passed Klaus' bedroom in favor of Hayley's, knowing the first was locked for clear reasons. Hayley was already having a conversation with Klaus in the nursery room, the connecting doors of Klaus' room also shut.

"So, the word 'interrogation' has lost the meaning I knew about," Maleny walked in more or less annoyed with the disturbance.

"Turns out witches are delicate creatures," Klaus said without thinking and earned himself a mock glare.

"Thanks," Maleny crossed her arms.

"Of course not you, love," Klaus casually corrected himself, unaware of the blush and smile the blonde acquired from the comment, "No matter! I suspected my mother had Elijah captive."

"Great," Haley started fishing for her phone in her jeans' pocket, "Then let's call Cami and tell her. She's been out looking with Gia."

But Klaus refused with a shake of his head, "Esther is too powerful. She won't be easily found. I need to draw her out."

"On your own," Maleny blinked, "That's too dangerous."

"Well you can't come with me, can you?" Klaus countered with and quickly shut Hayley down before she nominated herself, "And since you need someone to watch over you, Hayley's staying here."

"Are we really going through this whole babysitting thing again?" Maleny raised an eyebrow, "Because I think I've dealt with worse things now."

"Look, if either of you come," Klaus gestured between her and Hayley, "then my mother will be sure to use one of you - if not both of you - to thwart me. I can't save Elijah if I'm busy saving you," he moved to close the doors again when Maleny stopped him.

"Can we talk afterwards, then?" Maleny inquired in low whisper, "It's really important," and yet even though it was so important she hadn't had the chance to talk to him about it since they returned from Mikael's adventure. Klaus had immediately set to finding Elijah all through the day and the morning.

"Afterwards," Klaus promised with a wide smile, moving back into his room.

Maleny sighed and whirled around to Hayley, looking more than disappointed. Hayley patted her arm and started leading her back to her own room on the other side of the nursery, "There, there, you want a drink?"

Maleny playfully rolled her eyes, "You can't get me drunk to forget my problems, Hayley. One of these days, it's not going to work."

Hayley laughed as they walked out of her room when they both heard a new voice calling out from the courtyard.

"Hello?" it was a young woman's voice...and French too, "Hello? Is anyone in here?"

Maleny's eyes widened as she recognized the voice and therefore the woman. She quickly ran up to the banister and looked down to see a tall, dark-haired woman standing in the middle, curiously looking around.

Hayley came up beside her, confused of what was happening, "Who's that, Mal?"

Maleny smiled at the woman below, "Amarrah!"

~ 0 ~

Cami and Gia walked into Marcel's apartment wearing glum faces, though the blonde looked more upset as was expected. After patrolling the Quarter, and the Algiers, they came up with nothing new on Elijah.

"So I'm assuming the search wasn't a success?" Marcel asked from the couch.

"Do you see an Original with us?" Cami sarcastically motioned to the space around her.

"She's a bit cranky cos she hasn't slept at all," Gia sarcastically smiled as she plopped down to the couch across Marcel, "We did what you advised - kept a low profile - went all over the city but there's no sign of Elijah anywhere."

"Yeah," Marcel nodded, "The humans I know said the same thing. Maybe Klaus is having better luck?"

"He would've called me already," Cami rubbed her face in pure frustration. She could not believe Elijah had been gone for days now and without leaving a trace.

"Actually," Hayley strolled into the room, "He would not have. Mal would kill him if he did."

Cami quickly turned around for the brunette, "Has he found him yet?"

"No," Hayley shook her head, "But I could use a rescue mission team again."

"For Elijah…?"

"Nope, that's all Klaus," Hayley clarified, "I'm talking about Oliver. Now, he and Elijah were fighting the werewolves together. I've heard that Oliver's been captured and is about to be executed. Now, look- if we can save Oliver, then we might be able to find out where Elijah is."

Marcel thought the plan wrong and made his question, "Kay, so what do you want from us?"

"Just a little distraction. Esther's son, Finn, he's the one that's controlling the werewolves. If you can keep him out of the way, I can go get Ollie myself."

"You can't take on all those wolves by yourself. You'll get killed, and then I'll get killed for letting it happen."

Hayley sighed, "I'm not going in alone. The werewolves may be answering to the witches, but they still have an Alpha. I just have to find him."

"Jackson?" Cami recalled the name of Hayley's supposed betrothed and frowned, "He's been gone for months now. How do you expect to find him?"

Hayley didn't have a clear plan but she knew she was going to find him no matter what, "Are you in or out?"

Cami bit her lip, glancing at the window, "But Elijah…"

"Will be found by Klaus," Hayley assured.

"And Mal…?"

"She sort of has company today," Hayley crossed her arms, "So she'll be pretty safe with that woman. Cami, I really need your help. Can I count on you?"

Cami looked at the brunette and nodded, "Of course," and she motioned for Hayley to lead the way.

~ 0 ~

Amarrah Collins, daughter of one of the heads in the French coven that helped Maleny recuperate, sat on the foot of Maleny's bed intently studying every aspect of Maleny's bedroom. The expression on Amarrah's face led Maleny to believe she was angry - or at the very least annoyed. To be fair, Maleny was also annoyed with her abrupt presence because she knew Isabelle had sent the daughter to look after her.

"You were kidnapped," Amarrah broke the tensed silence in the room, finally returning her emerald green eyes to Maleny, the blonde leaning against her dresser.

"I suppose Isabelle felt the channeling of powers..." Maleny sighed, but was far stunned after Amarrah made a revelation.

"I have been in the Quarter for two weeks now and I am, frankly, appalled with your situation and the Mikaelsons."

"Wh-what-"

"How in the hell does this all powerful hybrid think it safe for you to wander the streets on your own when you could be hunted down?"

Maleny was blinking rapidly, her mind racing to let it sink in that Amarrah had basically been witness to all that occurred in the last two weeks. Amarrah was a genuinely fun person to be around with - a very witty woman - but when she was angry God help the people who are on the receiving end.

"Maleny, I thought this man, though impulsive as you said, was responsible," Amarrah crossed her arms, quite frankly disappointed she hadn't gotten a chance to meet this Klaus to give him a piece of her mind.

"He is-" Maleny meekly began but Amarrah wasn't finished.

"You have been in and out of this compound and mostly on your own. Very few times have I witnessed either the brunette woman accompanying you. My mother was right - you are in way over your head."

"Now wait a minute," Maleny straightened up, "People can't be with me 24/7. I can walk now, Ams, and I have enough power to defend myself."

"That's not the point," Amarrah interjected, "If someone finds to your last corpse and so happens to know witches they can bring you down."

"Thanks Ams," Maleny walked away from her French friend.

Amarrah sighed, softening somewhat, "You know I care for you, Mal, but I am very concerned for you alright? You told my mother Esther was back and, well...she's crazy!"

"I noticed," Maleny sarcastically said back, pretending to fiddle with a cardigan draped over her vanity desk chair.

"And then you were kidnapped. Do you know how crazy I went when I figured it out!? Mal, I was up and ready to call Mum!"

"You didn't actually do that did you!?" Maleny had whirled around in terror of the idea.

"No," Amarrah assured, "But I feel like I should have. I had no idea how to find you without anything of yours."

"I'm back, and I'm okay," Maleny gestured to her perfectly well appearance.

"I am very relieved," Amarrah sternly said, "But I am very serious about your security guards around here."

Maleny groaned and walked over to her bed, promptly letting herself fall flat on her back. She shut her eyes, "Please, not you too. Anyone but you. You're the fun one! The party one!"

"Am not," Amarrah shot her an offended look, "I'm a Police detective for crying out loud! I don't party."

"But you are still the fun one," Maleny insisted, opening her eyes, "And I am begging you not to talk about my 'safety measures'. For all that is good please spare me it."

Amarrah held her hands in surrender, "I suppose I'm not the first one who's brought it up?"

"You suppose right. Everyone does it - it's like the hot news of every freaking day. But oh! There's no one who does it more than Klaus."

"Hm, I guess there had to be something he did right in the midst of all this," Amarrah pretended to mutter to herself and got a whack on the arm from Maleny, "He couldn't be all bad, I meant."

"He's not bad to me, Ams. We can have our arguments and silent treatments but...even when you saw me out in the Quarter alone I knew he was somewhere in the crowd watching me over."

"Seriously?" Amarrah glanced at the blonde, doubtful. She had figured out there must have been a falling out between Maleny and Klaus during the two weeks she had been there, but she did come to believe the hybrid had just let her friend roam the streets on her own. "How would you know that? Did you see him?"

"Nope."

"Then how would you know?" she insisted again.

Maleny smiled to herself, staring up at the ceiling, "Because that's what he always does. It's actually kind of cute that he thinks I don't know he does it."

Amarrah made a face at that but Maleny didn't see it due to her dreamy stare up above, "You have one weird relationship, have I mentioned?"

Maleny sighed, "It's unique. And I like unique. But you know what I would really like more?"

"What?"

"To actually be in a proper, official relationship."

Amarrah gaped then, "You mean you're still..." she made a gesture with her hand, "...not together?"

"We've been busy," Maleny mumbled, "Arguing...and then solving problems...and arguing...a lot…" at the look Amarrah gave Maleny groaned, "It's not because of him. It's actually my fault."

"How so?"

"It's me being afraid, like usual," Maleny sighed, "It took one of my friends to give me a reality check. I've been meaning to talk to him but there's been some interruptions. But hopefully, when Klaus finds his brother we'll get some free time and I can tell him that I love him."

"I mean...if that's what you want to do," Amarrah scratched her head. Maleny rolled her eyes, knowing quite well that her friend disagreed with her love life. But, unlike Davina, she didn't constantly try to turn her away from it. She understood that it wasn't something she could understand. She was barely twenty six and hadn't really left her ranch town home in France in all of her life.

"I do," Maleny said with absolutely no doubt in her mind.

Amarrah then looked at her again, amusingly smiling, "You have such a weird relationship though..."

Maleny matched her smile, grateful they were slowly falling into their normal selves again, "Hey, at one point in our lives, Klaus and I were normal. It just another story of girl likes boy, boy likes girl."

"Yeah, before boy's parents turned boy into a hungry vampire," Amarrah reminded.

"Something girl also helped them to do," Maleny sat upright and shrugged, "But even after that, it was all good. I mean, there was a point where Klaus pushed me away while he learned to control himself, but eventually he did and we were okay again. All this that's happened, while bad, I wouldn't give up for a 'redo'."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously," Maleny nodded, "Because if we had stayed human we would have been dead for centuries now. There would be no New Orleans, no Cami, no Hayley, no Amarrah," she nudged the dark haired woman, "No French ranch...no little Hope Mikaelson."

"But there could have been different Mikaelson children," Amarrah didn't fail to bring up, "A child, Mal. Children. And they would be yours and Klaus. You wouldn't have been a step mother to some kid."

"I haven't even met Hope and I already love her to bits so please don't ever make it sound like it would be a burden to care for her," Maleny sharply scolded, understanding it hadn't been Amarrah's intention but she never wanted to hear something like that again, "And as for my own kids...they would've been nice - Klaus and I did have plans - but...it didn't happen. And it's sad, but there's nothing to do now."

Amarrah put an arm around Maleny's shoulders, "You're right, though," she said, in an attempt to uplift the mood she had brought down, "All this may be weird but you do sure love your weirdness."

That Maleny chuckle, "Oh Ams, I've missed you. And I'm fairly crossed you didn't come to me the moment you arrived to the Quarter."

"Sorry," Amarrah retracted her arm and stood up, Maleny noticing the sudden change in her tone, "I got, unintentionally, mixed up in a problem."

"What do you mean?"

Amarrah bit her lip nervously, "Mal, there's something you need to know."

"Like?"

"Okay," Amarrah sucked in a big breath and said it all in one go, "By accident I sort of made myself friends with the man I believe is your almost-boyfriend's older brother."

"Finn?" Maleny's mouth fell open.

"Mhm, please don't tell my mother! She will definitely kill me!"

"Ams, what's wrong with you!?"

"I didn't know who he was until a week ago! I thought he was just some guy renting me my apartment!"

"He's passing himself off as your landlord?" Maleny made a face, beginning to grow angry.

"I swear I was going to handle it on my own but I don't exactly know how to deal with a Mikaelson! Especially with a powerful witch like Finn."

"We'd need more people for that job," Maleny pointed, "But for now, I think you may be able to help out with another problem. Ams, I seriously hate to ask you but do you think you could help one of my friends today?"

"Sure, I guess," Amarrah shrugged, "But what's that go to do with this?"

"Because I'm pretty sure you're the key to helping Hayley save her friend from execution today," Maleny sighed and got up, walking to her nightstand where her phone laid.

~ 0 ~

And so that was how Amarrah found herself opening the door to her apartment for 'Vincent' (Finn) later on that day. Meeting up with this Hayley woman, they devised a plan in which Amarrah would keep Vincent occupied for an entire afternoon while she saved her friend Oliver from dying. That was why her kitchen's sink was an utter disaster.

'Vincent' may probably not even leave until late night came by.

And Finn having no idea who Amarrah herself was nor the trick being played, went right along with it.

~ 0 ~

Maleny read the text message Amarrah managed to send her a couple minutes back. She then texted Hayley to freely move on with her plan to save Ollie. Afterwards, the blonde headed for her room in the compound, still glum she'd been practically sent back like a kid to wait out the danger. Without Klaus, Elijah nor Hayley to 'look after her' Maleny was put under Cami's jurisdiction...though Cami herself wasn't too pleased with the plan. But since Hayley had technically found a much easier way to distract Finn, there hadn't been a need for much backup.

"Still nothing," a distraught Cami walked into Maleny's room, throwing off her jacket in frustration, "I thought Klaus was supposed to be good at hunting people down. Why hasn't he called?"

"Because he's still looking," Maleny said the obvious and earned a mock-glare from Cami.

"This isn't funny!" the blonde vampire exclaimed, "Elijah disappeared without a trace. Esther could be hurting him right now!"

"I doubt it, honestly," Maleny dismissed it casually as she continued ripping out pages from her journal, "Esther can be twisted but her methods are non life-threatening. She just wants them to accept her offer."

"You mean the one to place them, Hayley and I into mortal bodies?" Cami scoffed at the absurdity and went to sit on Maleny's bed.

Maleny sat at the edge and was filling up her area with balled papers, "The very one. Of course for me the offer is to get my previous corpse back and finally end the curse."

Cami shifted to face the blonde, "But can she really do it, though? Can she find your corpse?"

"I don't think she has to look very far," Maleny said and Cami tilted her head curiously, waiting for a clarification. Maleny stopped ripping up papers to look at her cousin, "It took me longer to figure out but I finally did. Esther has had my corpse this entire time."

Cami's eyes widened, "What!? How would you know!?"

"Because she never said to find my corpse, she was always keen on making sure I understood she could end the curse," Maleny elaborated the brief clue but clue nonetheless, "Anyone offering me a deal would begin more specifically by assuring me they would help me find the corpse. She's so calm about this curse and someone who has no pawns to play wouldn't be. She has my corpse somewhere, hidden no doubt."

"And you say this calmly?" Cami blinked rapidly, "If you've known this why didn't you say something?"

"Because I only just realized it," Maleny sighed.

"Are you going to tell Klaus?"

"Eventually, but after he gets Elijah back. Priorities."

Cami gave a nod of understanding. She seemed to be grateful for Maleny's way of thinking. Right now, their main priority was getting Elijah back. She really missed the Original in the sharp suit. Time seemed to pass far slower than it normally would, and it would continue to until Klaus returned with Elijah.

~ 0 ~

"You know, I liked this whole distracting thing," Amarrah chuckled over the phone, making Maleny roll her eyes. She should've figured Amarrah would be laughing over the grave situation. Amarrah always talked about adventure back in France, how she wanted to travel and do new things. Maleny wondered if these were the sorts of things Amarrah was thinking about.

"Well, Hayley says thanks," Maleny stood at the doorway of her room, actively waiting for the return of Klaus and hopefully Elijah, "She got Ollie back. She's in the bayou right now with him and apparently Jackson."

"But you know, speaking strategically, this thing could be good for you guys," Amarrah paused for a minute, "I think he may like me."

"No, trust me," Maleny shook her head, "Finn has only ever loved one woman and I doubt she'll ever make an appearance. You're some type of pawn for him and Esther."

"Oh, thanks," Amarrah laughed for a minute before going sober, "I meant that this little thing your friend Finn has with me can come in handy when you need another distraction - or even information. Haven't you heard the saying? Keep your friends close and your enemies closer?"

"Except I doubt that saying was talking about a thousand-old witch and her son," Maleny leaned off the door fringe and sighed.

"I'm only saying, Mal. It can come in handy."

"Thank you Amarrah, seriously," Maleny said quietly, "And I'm glad you decided to tell me you were here. Though I'm still not content that Isabelle made you come just to keep an eye on me."

"It's alright," Amarrah said, "The entire family's worried about you, Mal. You've been our most precious possession for centuries."

"Because that doesn't make me feel weird," Maleny laughed, her cheeks a bright pink.

"You are, hush! Now, I must leave you for sleep. Goodnight, Mal. And...good luck with your special talk tonight."

Maleny then blushed deeper, "Goodnight Amarrah," she quickly said back then hung up.

Just as she returned to her bedroom, she heard noise from downstairs. She quickly left her cellphone in her room and ran out, barely catching Klaus going into Elijah's room upstairs.

"Cami!" Maleny immediately called for and ran for Elijah's bedroom. Elijah was laid flat on his bed, his clothes torn and disheveled, "What happened to him?" she asked Klaus quietly.

"My mother," Klaus muttered just as Cami hurried inside.

"Oh my God!" the blonde was in horror but nonetheless ran for Elijah's side, "What the hell happened to him?" she didn't know how to care for him, nor even how to touch him fearing she would only hurt him. He was breathing erratically and shifting in his sleep, which Cami figured wasn't really 'asleep' but some sort of trance or spell.

"It was Esther, she had him in the cemetery and did God knows what," Klaus shook his head and headed out of the room.

"How do we help him?" Cami turned after him but remained put.

"I don't know yet," Klaus answered and glanced to his brother, for once having no idea how to help, "Esther said he would be asleep for an entire day, and then...I don't know..."

Esther had shown Elijah 'the error of his ways' and left him in that state. There would be dire consequences and Klaus could only fear what they were.

[the-tharns-speak]

You probably have been invited to dine at tables all around Tamriel being such a very important person. Can you tell us a bit about the dos and don'ts you've experienced around the tables of the different cultures? And favorite special dishes? Any food you can warn us off to be carefull with - besides the Khajiits moonsugar specials? Favorite Tamrielic cusine that is not imperial?

If you can name the place, chances are that I have probably eaten there, or at least have been invited to a dinner and lacked the courage to touch anything. However I would like to make a point that if I were to list all of the points of etiquette around the world, it would take a lifetime. As such I will limit myself to those which I personally find quirky and interesting or which should be a common knowledge but are not. Some of these are bound to be more of handful advice on how to dine without coming off as a more and unknowing outsider.

If you are invited to take any meal with members of House Telvanni, it is seen as a personal failure to touch any of the courses provided by hand, which would be much easier if there was cutlery provided. Either you are proficient enough to use levitation spells with sufficient precision not to dump whole guar steak into your face, or you have a slave to feed you, or you discreetly ask the chef beforehand to provide dining saltrice flatbread for you which you use to take the food with but do not eat. (Not that dining saltrice flatbread is something you want to bite into.)

In all great Dunmer Houses except the Indoril you show your reverence to your host by poisoning their main course. You use a common slowly acting poison - because you do not want to actually kill them - and make sure that at least one person notices you doing it. In many large estates there is a servant known as the Witness hired for just this exact purpose.

Speaking of that, before you attend any such a dinner in Morrowind, drink an antidote aperitif, and after an antidote digestive. You find them cheaply in any alchemist’s shop and in most general stores as well. If you get yourself poisoned by a commonly used poison, everyone will take you for an idiot for the rest of your life (or death).

Among the Ashalnders, or at least the Vereansu, before you start eating you take your shoes off.

When presented with multiple courses, the Altmers prepare the silverware on the table that you start with the pair that is closest to the plate and you eat your way out.

In addition at Altmer noble tables you are also expected to maintain a casual conversation. Be cold and verbally jab at the people you consider to be your friends, and flirt with the people you detest and hate. I would have loved to know this one on my first visit to Skywatch…

If you know yourself to be weak to spices, numb your tongue before attending any dinner in Alik’r or the Black Marsh. Profound usage of spices helps to preserve the food against rotting due to pest and warmth. Especially Alik’r is exceptionally hot desert during the day.

On the other hand, as all spice is expensive to come by in deserts, if you are eating with Radguards who are less than fond of you, they will go very easy with the spices on you. It has its perks: For example I am the only person without Redguards origins that I know of who can eat Sai Sahan’s cooking and keep breathing only through their nose.

While I am at it: No spices in Valenwood, since the Bosmer can’t eat plants. And expect only a little salt, since that place is so humid most of the salt dissolves right away.

Never ask what the Bosmer serve you, and eat all of it except bones. (If there are suspicious organs you don’t want to eat, offer them gracefully to someone else, as organs are nutritionally rich and therefore prized delicacy.) It is better to eat yourself so full that it makes you sick rather than to leave bits.

If you expect yourself to spend longer time in Valenwood, stock up on citruses or sour cabbage preserves, and eat them when no Bosmer sees you. Scurvy is a killer, and not a pretty one. Ask any sailor.

In Skyrim it is not a dinner, it is a feast. Feast includes vast amounts of alcohol, and you are supposed to comment on the strength, not the taste and quality, unless it is exceptionally bad.

If you are given a horn to drink, you will notice that there is no way to put that horn down without spilling its content. You are supposed to drink all of it in one go, then there is a window of about five seconds when nobody has yet noticed your horn is empty so you can put it down on the table. If you’ve missed that window, you are in for a refill.

A very important difference between Orc and Nord feasts: At an Orc feast, you are to cut food with whatever it is you brought, be it a knife, a sword, a battleaxe. At Nord feasts, there are to be absolutely no weapons and preferably no sharp objects on the table, so you pray you have a strong jaw and prepare to get your hands very greasy.

Argonian hand-washing almost-rituals before every meal are a very intricate and complicated process. Don’t try to imitate them, you’ll be think for adorably foolish and clumsy at best, and outright offensive in most cases. Just wash your hands like you are used to.

Khajiits expect you to bring yourself your own fork. They’ll provide you with spoons and chopsticks if you ask for them, and usually there will be a fork on the table, but if there is no fork, don’t ask for one. (They also expect you to have your own towel, although that is not dinning related whatsoever.)

In many places after meal you are offered to take a smoke, either a cigar or a sugar pipe. However especially in Morrowind and the northern parts of the Black Marsh you can be commonly offered skooma as well. Don’t take skooma. If you have to take skooma, do not mix it with hist. If you mix skooma with hist, never, I repeat never, add in alcohol of any kind, no not even early-matze.

If you mix skooma, hist, and alcohol… Well, I told you not to, so don’t expect any sympathy from me.

Like Nords, the Khajiit also have the policy of no sharp utensils in the dining room, but unlike Nords this means that everything is minced.

I don’t know who when wand where started that rumor that at Imperial banquets you are supposed to eat until the event is over, and in case you stuff yourself full you excuse yourself to the bathroom where you throw up into a vase, and then return and continue eating. I don’t care who started it either. It is not true and the janitors are not pleased. Be a decent person, don’t do this.

What is true is that you are supposed to bring as a present to the host a meal of your own. It doesn’t have to be big enough to feed everyone, rule of thumb is to keep it for a sixth of the other people attending or for five people, whichever number is smaller. Usually you would bring a soup, a fish or a cake.

I have many dishes that I am very fond of, but I rarely have the time to enjoy them. I appreciate a well prepared fish, but if I had to pick something special, it would be topped flatbread. It is food that I haven’t yet encountered outside of Niben. On a flatbread from unproofed dough you put either tomato puree or cream, and then top it with tiny bits of whatever you fancy (usually what is at hand), commonly it is cheese, minced meat, vegetables such as peppers, onion or boiled bittergreen and mushrooms. It is then baked in a very heated oven for a relatively short amount of time, and if you eat it too hot when it is at its best, it will melt the top of your mouth right off. If you put comberries on topped flatbread, I will quarter you in a marketplace and seal each of your body part in a different forgotten corner of Oblivion.

Food to be careful about... I have covered the House Dunmer tendency to poison everything for the good manners, so we have that. Be on your guard with any wine made in Summerset, as if you are not used to them, they have the tendency to act as magicka potions, and if you are not careful, you will easily overcharge. Steam-boiled mudcrabs with herb-butter and steamed carrot are delicious if they are done well, but mudcrabs are very resilient and before you break the chitin, check very carefully the crustacean is dead. Nord mead is stronger than it tastes like, drink about two thirds of what you think you can take. All Khajiiti cuisine that I’ve got on my plate has contained sugar, and therefore it’s been usually sticky, so for people with longer hair, facial or regular, tame your mane to avoid painful brushing later on. Whatever meal is a Daedra presenting to you, decline; it might be someone you know and in fact it probably is.

I do not think that I have a favorite cuisine. There are bits in each which I like and each has something I detest. My answer to that is going to be the most Imperial you can receive: The best is the combination of all the good parts with a touch of your own.

[thecorteztwins]

🏁

FC: Matthew ClavaneAt one of the boards I RP at, the admin asked me to make a little brother for her character. It isn’t his time to come in yet, but when he does, his name is Morgan. He’s a mycokinetic (fungus control) from Ireland. I see him as moody, sullen, sensitive, and starting to suffer the effects of hereditary chronic depression, though he doesn’t know that’s what it is yet. He has a pervasive, wistful emptiness, and doesn’t really know what he wants out of life, or have any real talents, though he does do watercolor pour paintings and watercolor marble painting, in sea and moor tones,  and decorated his room with tiny seashells he’s found and strung upon thin colorless plastic wire.He's got a demeanor that can come off as sad, dreamy, or just plain distracted to many, but when it comes to emotional matters, he's very focused and perceptive. His biggest strength is his emotional intelligence, which is exceptional for a teenage boy. Which is to say, nothing special, but better off than a lot of his peers. He's good at understanding and managing his own emotions (again, for his age) and working out the feelings of others, and responding to them well. He's not perfect at it by any means, but it gives him a decent set of social skills and a talent for empathy, active listening, and taking care of himself emotionally through his bad times when his as-of-yet un-diagnosed depression flares up. But for all his sensitivity and emotional perception and all of that, he can still be moody, bratty, self-righteous, myopic, and uncharitable in his perception of others. He considers himself compassionate, understanding, and open-minded, as these are all qualities he admires, but in actual reality, he can be quick to judge others if they act in a way that really bothers him, and to dig his heels into maintaining this belief. He may or may not voice it, but he will harbor it, and he will let it fester and grow. If he forms a negative perception of someone, he tends to stick with it, disregarding new information, even when he picks it up himself, particularly if they're still behaving in ways that grate him even if he comes to understand more about WHY. He'll just let his problem with somebody sit there, rather than speaking up, and let it build, just avoiding them, and never working things out like an adult. He doesn't want to risk the argument, he doesn't want to do the emotional labor, and he doesn't want to feel like HE was the one in the wrong or that HE was being the unkind party. He'd rather just endure their shit and then sulk about it internally.One of the things that bothers Morgan most is the judgemental attitudes of other people towards harmless pleasures. He swears he sees more hate towards celebrities for being "shallow" than he does towards actual hate groups. What does it matter if someone likes fake tans or partying? It doesn't make them fake, or shallow, or stupid, or less of a human being. And he notices that the people who do this seem to think themselves and their interests are somehow smarter and deeper and more genuine, but you don't get to sneer at a girl for dying her hair blonde when you dye yours black. He also notices that they seem to take pride in how against-the-grain they are for hating the "popular" thing even though the stuff they hate is typically actually very popular to hate---everyone seems to love taking potshots at man-buns, vaping, and Justin Bieber fans. And why? Just another way to feel superior, it seems to Morgan. But but he's also a hypocrite in this because there are certain hobbies and interests that can immediately put him off someone else, namely anything to him that seems needlessly destructive or focused on violence. If it involves someone saying "hold my beer and watch this" he probably hates it. If it involves a preoccupation with how to hurt someone, even in a video game, he probably doesn't want to hear about it or be around the person who's into it. People who take pride in how much they can hurt other people are not people he wants to know. Morgan is the opposite of a perfectionist, always settling for “good enough” even in tasks he’s truly enthusiastic about, like his paintings. The good side of this is that he takes defeat in stride, and accepts loss of any sort as a part of life. The bad side is that it means he lets a lot of error happen, both his own and other people's, without moving to correct it. He won't ask for someone to fix his computer or toilet or clogged shower until it's truly beyond functioning, he'll indulge constant social faux pas from others without telling them they're putting their foot in their mouths, he'll turn in papers that could have been so much better with just a few rounds of editing, he'll do the bare minimum in any task given. He just does what's needed to get by, and in doing so, he robs himself of any chance to shine...not to mention fucks over anyone he's been paired with for a task or assignment. He also doesn't speak up unless he deems it absolutely necessary, unless he thinks it's actually worth it, unless he thinks his words can actually do something and won't cost him. Similarly, is always kind in small ways---letting someone in the lane ahead of him during traffic, returning stray shopping carts, giving a dollar to a homeless man or five bucks to a charity---but he doesn't do big kindnesses. He's not about to run off and dedicate his life to stopping whaling ships, or picket outside city hall for mutant rights, or do anything else that requires real time, energy, money, and/or risk. He's not a hero. He's not one of those people. He doesn't think it'd be fair to call him "selfish" but he's not the kindest, most selfless person ever either. He just does nice little unnoticed things if he can, but keeps out of anything larger, even if it's something he agrees with. Similarly, he's not a person who will "do anything" for a friend. He's a decent friend, a good one even, he'll listen and be empathetic and you can call him at 2 AM crying...but he's not a "ride or die" friend. He is not the friend that will bail you out jail or help you hide a body. He's got limits, and he's got boundaries, and he's not apologizing for that. Okay no, he will say sorry, but he's also still not budging on it.He is equally attracted and repulsed by bright happy energetic people. He admires their light, he loves it, he longs for it, he wants to tag along after them like a moth, but they also wear him out and he doesn’t feel he can be himself around them lest he bring them down or ruin the mood. He's frequently tired for no reason, physically or emotionally, and just detached, disconnected, and worn out, like he can't CARE about anything. But Morgan is determined not to make his problems anyone else's, because he's seen people who wanted to make theirs everyone else's. he's NOT going to be the whiny party pooper that rains on everyone's parade or demands everyone feel sorry for him. He's not. If he's got one goal or point of pride, it's this. He might not always be successful---he's a moody teen boy--but he's got a hardy self-awareness that he's far from the worst-off person in the world, and that other people have better things to do besides getting bogged down in sympathy for him because he feels bad or bland sometimes. He has a gray cat named Easter.

[fae-fucker]

Zenith: Chapter 41-44

Chapter 41

So the Marauder’s engine is in meltdown and Memory tells the crew to “proceed to the landing bay” and “prepare for engine failure” instead of going to the escape pods? I guess here is where we find out Memory wants them all dead, and can ya blame her? 

Lira says that because of their “velocity” and “weight” (there’s that weight thing again), it’s extra hard to cool down the engine for a safe landing. 

So. I’m no rocket scientist. But if your engines fail in space ... won’t you just sorta float there? It seems the rest of the ship’s systems are fine, so you’ll have all the time you need to figure out what’s wrong with the engine. It’s written like they’re about to crash, but unless they’re close enough to a planet or similar large mass that exerts gravity over the ship, they’ll be fine for long enough to fix the engine. 

I guess maybe you guys should look into getting some ship engineers after all. 

Breck says their cooling systems are completely fucked to the point where they’ll all die if nothing happens soon. She also complains about the engineers who did the repairs for the Marauder don’t know how to work on a “classic” because I guess the ship is one-of-a-kind and unique and super high-tech but also vintage to the point where ship engineers who work for the general-king of an entire planet/group of planets don’t know how to handle it. 

Which makes total sense.

Lira says that if they leave hyperspace now, they’ll conveniently land right near Adhira, and if you against all odds forgot what Adhira is, it’s where Lira and her sad backstory are from. 

God, this thing is so fiking contrived. I can see Shinsay’s desperate claws picking at the scabs that is this plot to make it look less like garbage but only infecting and destroying it more.

After all they’d gone through to get Valen, things just had to go wrong now. The life of a space pirate, Andi thought to herself.

*looks into the camera like I’m on The Office*

What exactly did y’all get through to get Valen? The plan went literally without a hitch lmao. The life of a whiny brat more like. 

Chapter 41

“Come on, baby,” Andi said, patting the Marauder’s dash as if it would actually listen to her plea.

“Coming!” an unwelcome voice came from behind her. Andi let out an audible groan.

“Get in a seat, Dextro. Now!”

“I’m trying to lighten the mood, Androma. We all know Lira is fully capable of handling this situation.”

“Thanks,” Lira muttered as Dex plopped into one of the chairs behind her, legs sprawled out in front of him like he was about to watch a film.

Now this is how you sell the danger and suspense of a crash landing! 

Listen, Shinsay, I know this won’t actually kill anyone or even hurt them particularly bad. I know you’re just doing this to get them to Adhira so Lira can mope around for a little bit.

But could you at least pretend this is exciting or poses some sort of threat? At least I would respect y’all for trying.

Lira says that they’ll crash land in a relatively safe way, but they’ll probably plow straight into a village unless they lose at least a ton of weight. So Dex blasts the escape pods out. Let’s hope anyone below doesn’t get smashed by an escape pod I guess. Again with the fucking weight thing, too.

Anyway, you know what’s great in a pilot and a Second-In-Command? Literally fainting during stressful moments. Which Lira does right as they’re about to crash-land. 

I’m surprised these guys have survived as long as they have with Lira fainting or flipping her shit the moment something goes wrong. Watch Nexus have a subplot about her embracing her emotions or some shit. 

Chapter 42

We’re in Dex’s point of view and my mouth literally fell open when I read this.

He had just one second to enable the ship’s metal outer shields before they hit the ground.

YOU’RE TELLING ME

THAT THIS WHOLE TIME THEY’VE BEEN FALLING 

THEY DIDN’T HAVE THEIR SHIELDS UP 

AND NOBODY EVEN MENTIONED THEM

AND THEY WERE JUST DIRECTING THIS IMPENETRABLE BUT APPARENTLY FRAGILE GLASS SHIP 

TOWARDS SOLD GROUND 

WHILE FALLING OUT OF THE ATMOSPHERE?!

We’re all idiots. All of us reading this book and you guys for reading this snark. We’re out here expecting quality from a New York Times bestseller written by two airheads when we could be out there selling copies of our own trash! We could all get famous for not having opinions online and being pretty in front of a bookshelf and then we’ll get a book deal as a result of our clout! 

Instead we’re here, examining this piece of GARBAGE as if it was a work of art worth thinking about. Shinsay just opened up our skulls and took a huge, dripping dump on all of our brains while stealing our lunch money! AND YOU’RE JUST GONNA LET THEM!!!! BECAUSE YOU TOO ARE A SHEEP, YOUR GAPING MAW HUNGRY FOR MORE WARM ASS-JUICE. 

Anyway OH MY GOD THE METAL SHIELDS JUST POPPED RIGHT OFF 

A PART OF THE METAL SHIELD THAT’S SUPPOSED TO PROTECT THE IMPENETRABLE GLASS SHIP FROM DAMAGE JUST POPPED OFF I’M 

the queen’s personal guards come to arrest them i guess and that’s it that’s the chapter someone save me please

Chapter 44

We’re back with Andi while they’re being wheeled away along with the dead ship and I’m not entirely sure what the point of Dex’s chapter was aside from destroying any last remaining brain cells I had.

Andi acknowledges how she should be worrying about Lira, who’s just woken up from her EMOTION OVERLOAD, but instead she thinks about literally everything else. Mostly about how she’s mad at General Cortas for roping her into this mission because it led to her ship getting destroyed, her ex coming back, and her pirating career coming to a halt. 

What is happening to my life? she wondered. It was out of control. She was out of control.

Acknowledging your protagonist’s complete lack of agency in this plot won’t make it okay, Shinsay. And doing it now, when the ship’s fucked and the pilot is barely conscious, makes Andi look like a self-absorbed ass.

“There’s nothing we can do right now,” Lira said. She reached out, and Andi felt the warm flutter of Lira’s fingertips on her shoulder. She stiffened at the touch, and Lira pulled away. “A calm mind is a decent one.”

That’s very rich coming from you, Miss Faints-During-Stress.

“Your home may be the ship, Androma. It’s all of ours, too. But Adhira is the planet that gave me life. I just lost control of myself before I could stop our ship from crashing into one of its most profitable crop fields. When Queen Alara finds out...” 

Andi didn’t answer. 

Lira’s eyes narrowed. “You are not the only one suffering today, Captain.”

O SHE MAD

YOU TELL HER, LIRA

Andi actually feels bad for offending her friend. Which is like, wow, Shinsay making it obvious Andi made a mistake and experiencing consequences? Wow. SJMommy/Celaena would never. We stan two queens.

It won’t matter in the long run but the effort is appreciated.

[Andi] needed to be a leader. She needed to talk to her crew and devise a plan. She needed to apologize to Lira. She needed to sort out how she felt about her conversation with Dex. 

But right now, she simply wanted to sit and not be bothered. So she did. 

With her mind reeling, her hands balled into fists at her side, Androma Racella, the Bloody Baroness of Mirabel, stared out the back of the wagon as her ship slid over another pile of fresh green dung and allowed herself to pout like a child.

And there goes my sympathy for Andi out the window again.

What shame.