#but like. it’s a colonial fantasy so it doesn’t surprise me either

[cupcakemolotov]

At Horizon’s Edge

I promised @lalainajanes​ a space fic sometime before Covid, so that could have been two years ago or three, who can remember anymore, but here it is. I hope you enjoy it!

You can read the story at A03 here if you prefer!

Synopsis: Sometimes when a girl goes on a shopping trip to pick up a new pair of boots at the local, and somewhat hostile, human space station, she accidentally aids and abets a prison break instead. What happens in the black really doesn't stay in the black.

Warnings: Alternate Universe; Alternate Universe - Space; Alternate Universe - Fantasy; Alternate Universe - Soulmates; Alien Cultural Differences; Alien Technology;  Werewolves; Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known; Werewolves in Space; Werewolf!Klaus; Alien!Caroline; Mostly Alien at Least; prison break; Accidental Rescue; Some Gore; Non-OTP Charachter Death; Found Family

                                                              -

Caroline slid into her pilot’s chair just as the comm on her dash beeped for an incoming transmission. Glancing over at the seat where her co-pilot sat, Enzo gave her a grim look. He didn’t agree to her plan, and she didn’t blame him. She wasn’t usually given to bouts of insanity but every day in space was a new one, and sometimes life tossed surprises at you with the impact of live grenades.  

“Five minutes until gate clearance.” He paused and then sighed, rolling his shoulders with a reluctant acceptance. “I hope you know what you are doing.”

So did she. 

Five minutes was an eternity when facing the guns of the space station they had just left. Named after a moon in the humanities home solar system, Titan was one of the few remaining stations that still traded directly with Earth. They were also very proud that they maintained the largest population of pure blooded humans outside of Earth Solar System, even by Earth’s exacting standards of what was considered human these days. 

If she’d cared to check, the history logs on her computer would tell her all about the wars that had nearly decimated Earth and its colonized planets, of the laws that banned anyone who carried alien DNA in their veins. The justifications of a world terrified by how humanity could change in the cold void of space and their desperate, grasping fingers trying to avoid change. 

Caroline had long since stopped caring about earth’s collective opinions, and the stars cared not all about the blood in your veins. Not all of humanity bent to fear, the far flung colonies that still lingered though they’d been abandoned by their home world. They’d learned to adapt, to change. There were wonders and nightmares in space that Earth could never imagine, but right then, none of that was particularly helpful. 

What she cared about was getting out of Titan’s airspace as quickly as possible without getting blown to bits. The conversation she needed to have to do that would require her to be very, very careful. Blowing out a breath, Caroline hit accept. 

Half a heart beat later, and the familiar eyes of Marshal Tyler Lockwood popped up on her screen. He looked worn, older than the last time she had seen him. The thick black of his hair had faded to more gray than the salt and pepper she remembered from their last conversation, and the creases in his forehead, and at the corner of his eyes, were a sign of his human heritage more than any of the military patches on his uniform. 

Old. He had started to look so old. 

“Marshall Lockwood,” Caroline said, tucking away any hint of sorrow. “This is a surprise. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

He grimaced, his face telling her exactly what he thought of either of them enjoying this call. Her ex-lover did not enjoy being reminded of their past, which was why she made a point to do it every time he initiated one of these little catch ups. A little pettiness always did wonders for her mood. 

“Forbes. You’re leaving early.” He looked down, the line between his brows deepening as he clearly checked something on his tablet. “We had expected your stay at the station to last for another 48 standard hours.”

Brows arched, Caroline tipped her head to the side and studied him. “I wasn’t aware that you were watching my flight plans so closely.”

A hint of derision entered his eyes. “You are dangerous, Forbes. I keep an eye on dangerous things.”

She was dangerous. But not in ways that Tyler could plan against, and they both knew to target her specifically because of her heritage went against a dozen interstellar laws. His team could enforce station laws while she was standing on it, but here, on her ship, minutes from making a FTL jump, what she did should have been of no concern to them. This wasn’t space owned strictly by humanity, where it could control its population down to its DNA. 

Tyler was walking a fine line. 

Smiling, she settled a bit more comfortably in her chair. “Awe, that’s so sweet of you. Being so concerned about your people. I think you’d be more relieved to see the back of my ship than making demands to justify why I would leave when we both know you're not entitled to that information.”

His mouth tightened at her jab. “Generally that would be the case but you’re predictable. This breaks your usual pattern, and that gives me cause for suspicion.”

She shook her head in false exasperation, deliberately misunderstanding him. “My personal life is none of your business, remember? You made that choice decades ago, no reason to get sentimental now in your final few years.” 

Her words were below the belt, but Caroline had never really been able to help herself where he was concerned. Walking away from her, walking away from the future they had been building together had hurt. Decades had softened the sting, but some scars still bled. 

“I wasn’t asking for personal reasons.” His words were clipped, the edges sharp and cutting. 

She laughed. “Such lies you tell. But there isn’t anything dramatic about my departure, Tyler. Your collection of goods suck right now. Did someone piss off High Command again? Would it honestly kill you to announce it when you have trade-shortfalls? Manifests exist for a reason, you know, and it’s such a waste that your ‘council’ won’t let anyone bring in additional goods. Seriously, I could have avoided this whole trip and it would have saved me some time and docking fees.”

Absently, she wondered if his jaw got stuck like that these days, clenched down on a brutal line that left the muscle jumping tautly. “You expect me to believe you couldn’t find the correct dress size so you decided to ignore two days of your itinerary? I know you better than that.”

Caroline scoffed. “Actually, you don’t know me, Tyler. It’s been fifty years since we last had a conversation that didn’t involve us insulting each other. Your personal opinions about my love of a well organized schedule are outdated.” The lie slipped easily from her tongue, and next to her Enzo rolled his eyes. She flipped him off, just outside of view of the camera. “My irritation at the lack of proper boot sizes available aside, you’re not usually this pushy. You want to tell me what’s really going on? And why you need a scapegoat?”

Tyler’s jaw turned to stone for a long moment, and she forced herself to appear bored. Every moment he delayed was another that they crept closer to their escape. He finally unlocked it enough to speak, words harsh. “We had a prison break.”

She didn’t have to fake her surprise, brows arching high at both his reluctant admittance and what it meant. Very, very few people knew that Titan had an advanced and secure prison system. Dear Old Earth had always enjoyed making its problems vanish, and Titan was one such place they used to keep their hands clean. Those shipments from Earth of goods and perishables that made Titan so popular as a trade station came with a dirty secret: in the belly of those ships were people. Political prisoners, murders, terrorists, inconvenient witnesses who needed to disappear. Titan housed them all. Some would be kept in the cold bowls of the station and others shipped off to one of the max-prisons deep in the black of space. 

None of them ever escaped. 

That Titan was a prison was a dirty little secret and not one that could be allowed to get out. But such secrets, buried in metal and technology, were very hard to hide from her. Tyler knew it, though he was bound to keep some of her secrets. As she was bound to keep the worst of his.

“You don’t lose people.” Caroline said slowly. “What happened?”

“He had help.”

Brows coming together at the word ‘he’, she frowned. “And now you want me to find him.”

Tyler’s face could have been carved from stone. “No, Caroline. I want to know if he is aboard your ship.”

Next to her, Enzo lifted three fingers in her peripheral vision. They’d only been talking for two minutes and it’d felt like twenty. 

“Tyler, that’s far fetched even for you. I don’t let random people on my ship. You know that.” She didn’t have to fake the bitterness in the curve of her lips. “If I remember correctly, it was a major point of contention in our relationship.”

He ignored her, only the flex of his jawline a sign that her words had hit home. “I want to board your ship.”

“Absolutely not,” Caroline said flatly. “You have no grounds.”

“I have more than enough circumstantial evidence.” He spread his hand in her view, eyes like flint, shoulders square. “We scanned your ship, and while there are only three bodies registering onboard, we both know you have the capability to hide someone.”

She arched a brow. “That’s a violation of at least three treaties, Tyler.”

Marshall Lockwood didn't seem bothered by that. “I also know that there are at least two smuggling compartments on your ship that are capable of housing a human for short periods of time without them suffering from asphyxiation.”

There were now four compartments, and all of them could hide people for up to four hours without risking asphyxiation but were rarely used for such purposes. Smuggling people was difficult, goods were safer. Goods didn’t talk about ships and captains and give people ideas. But there were some things she couldn’t stomach, and sometimes a girl needed to be prepared. 

But Tyler didn’t know that. 

It’d been fifty years since she’d let him step foot on her ship. And unfortunately for him, she was hardly the only crew member with secrets. Smuggling had brought such interesting bedfellows into her life, and she’d violate more than three treaties to keep them safe. But her ex didn’t need to know that, and none of it would save her, if he opened fire at her. The point blank range of those canons would destroy her and everyone who would be caught in the crossfire. 

Right then, Tyler was a problem and she could show no weakness. 

“Circumstantial evidence of what exactly? “ she tilted her head and let scorn drip along her words. “That your super secret prison had an escapee and I am conveniently close to blame? That is ridiculous and we both know it.”

“You’re a Tech Witch.” 

Next to her, Enzo tensed at the derogatory term and Caroline let her smile sharpen. Her mother’s blood wasn’t an unknown quality of hers, but saying so here, on this channel with who knows how many witnesses, put him perilously close to breaking the agreements that bound them both. 

“Marshall, my ship cleared your security systems ten minutes ago. We accepted the standard cargo check before we left the docking bay, and I am told they were very thorough. Other than requiring a scapegoat in the form of my non-human DNA for whatever inside job you're attempting to cover up, you have nothing.” She nodded when he remained silent. “You have nothing.”

Something beeped, and he glanced down. When he glanced up, nothing had shifted on his face. “I could request you return to the docking bay or face the canons, Forbes.”

Caroline shook her head. It was a threat, but here, for now, she had the upper hand. This kind of PR move for humanity would be costly, but Tyler didn’t worry about those decisions. But him, personally, and the blackmail she had?

“We both know why you won’t.”

The skin near his eyes visibly tightened and she let her smile dimple. They both knew her death would act as a trigger for a number of unpleasant consequences for Tyler. What bound them was contractual, but she had never trusted him to do more than keep the letter of the law, and today had proved she’d been correct in her assessment. If he could have violated the spirit of their contract, he would have. Lucky for her, he couldn’t. Tyler’s secrets could destroy everything he had worked to build in his life, and even now, less than a decade or two from his death, he wouldn’t risk her ruining him. 

Her previous lover had always been a coward when it counted. Earth had its enemies, and so did Titan, and she knew almost all of them. Today might cost her, but it could cost him far more. 

Letting her knowledge show on her face, she showed her teeth. “Do you even want to tell me who it is that you lost that has you so desperate?” 

There was a long, long silence as he stared at her and she just waited. Time was on her side now, the clock burning down. In the back of her head, she counted down. 

Sixty seconds. Fifty-five. So close. 

The gleam behind Tyler’s eyes turned calculating, and he dropped the name as if it was supposed to mean something, as if it was supposed to bring the weight of her guilt crashing down on her shoulders. “Klaus Mikaelson.”

Caroline just stared at him in surprise; she hadn’t expected him to tell her. The ghosts between her and Tyler faded a little more every year. Humanity might have extended their lifespans as far as they could be stretched, but they would never match those whose DNA held the remnants of long lived, non-human races. Soon Tyler would be one of the few living memories left from the single year of her life she had spent planetside. 

Klaus Mikaelson was another. 

Gathering her thoughts, Caroline shook her head, forcing herself to focus. “If he is alive, he should be nearing a century on a planet with less medical knowledge than your Station. He should be either senile or dead.” She pushed back a loose strand of hair that slid into her face, the pale gold as much as her mother’s blood as her fathers. “Out of all of us, I’m the only one cursed, remember?”

Next to her, Enzo made a grunting noise of disagreement, his disapproval clear. She waved a hand at him. Her hidden clenched fist relaxed as Enzo bared his teeth but started the sequence to activate the first of what was going to be several jumps. Right then, she didn’t care how much he hated Tyler. They’d be harder to trace once they arrived at the major traffic lanes, but first they had to make it. She didn’t dare take her eyes away from her screen. 

Tyler sighed, the sound deep and an echo that caught in her chest. His dark eyes creased, and for the first time the Tyler she’d once known peaked at her from behind the Marshall. “You’ve never been gifted at lying, Caroline.”

She laughed at him, the sound bitter. “No, Tyler. You’ve just never believed me when I spoke truly. I was never your enemy.”

His face told her that he didn't believe her. He never had. “I won’t forget this, Caroline. When we prove that you helped, and we will prove it, not even your precious interstellar laws will be able to protect you.”

The call ended just as their clearance to enter the gate came through. Caroline cut the open line, and immediately started backtracking through her systems to make sure that Tyler hadn’t tried to leave her a present. It wouldn’t have been the first time. Earth, and it’s subjects, tended to see laws as flexible when it suited them. 

The initial scrub didn’t take long, she’d never skimped on security and her ship did not endure itself to strangers programs, and the surface diagnosis came back clean. Jaw set, she triggered the deeper scrub that would erase the identifiers that they had used to dock at Titan. 

She’d known she’d have to burn the remaining dregs of that life soon, but hadn’t expected it today. Better to make a clean cut, erase her existence here in Pure Human Space now than end up in the darkness of its prison, driven mad by the hum of machines she could hear but not touch. 

“Ten seconds until FTL.”

Switching to her main screen, Caroline pulled up the screens to monitor their progress. Closing her eyes as the universe started to blur with the faster than light speed jump, she inhaled slowly and didn’t breathe again until the sound of space tearing around them drowned out the anxious rush of her heartbeat. 

-

It took twenty minutes after they passed through the gate to clear enough space to make the first jump. They didn’t quite dare engage their cloaking device until they left the jump points. It took another precious half hour before they finally winked out of existence as far as radars were concerned. But the muscles along her spine didn't relax until Enzo finally gave her a nod.

“We’re clear. No one followed us, which means they didn’t have enough time to scramble a ship. We’ve got a sixty minute window before this airspace becomes too hot for us.”

Caroline laughed. “Good thing we won’t be here that long. Go ahead and start planning our next jump.”

Enzo tipped his head. “Are we sticking to our plan then?”

“For now. I don’t want to risk picking up a tail, and they won’t be able to follow us from here. As long as we stay out of Federation space, we should be okay for the short term.”

For now. If they were going to stay that way was entirely dependent on what exactly she had gotten them into. Grimacing a little, she hit the comm button. “Bonnie? Everything alright down there?”

There was a pause and then the droll voice of her closest friend came back over the mic. “So far everything is holding up. I did a fast scan once we cleared the gate, and I didn’t find any extra tech that might have been dropped in the ship.”

“Thanks, but we’re clean.” She pressed her hand against the panel, listening to the hum of engines and the computers that were as familiar to her as the back of her hands. The curious hum of its voice. “I’ll be down shortly to deal with our pickup.”

“Better you than me.”

Enzo leaned back, watching her with dark eyes as he waited for her to finish her conversation. “You sure this is what you want?”

Caroline snorted and unbuckled herself. “I think it's a little late for second guessing, don’t you?”

A shrug. “We could space him.”

She laughed, this one far more genuine. “If he threatens you or Bonnie, I promise, he’ll find himself ejected. But until then…”

Enzo crossed his arms, gaze dark. “You think he might know something about your mom.”

Eyes sliding shut, Caroline sighed. She wished she could have given him that as the reason, but it hadn’t been. Not then. Now… “I don’t know if anyone knows what happened to my mom.”

“Be careful, Gorgeous.” Enzo’s mouth tightened at the corners. “The past can make you bleed.”

She knew that far better than anyone should, but arguing with Enzo about unnecessary reminders wouldn’t get her anywhere. “Yeah.”

Tipping back into his chair, Enzo studied her. “I’ve still got a friend or two on that station. I could arrange it so Lockwood stops being such a problem.”

She shot him a look and he shrugged unrepentant. “He has no teeth.”

“Gorgeous, we both know that’s hardly the truth. He’s going to do his damndest to make your life difficult. Even if he sticks to your bargain until he dies, you’ve got nothing to protect you after his death.”

Caroline shook her head. “Legacy means everything to Tyler. I don’t think he’ll so easily let me ruin it.”

Enzo snorted but turned back to his computer. “I’ll make the next jump.”

Understanding it for the grumpy acceptance but not an approval that it was, Caroline lifted hand to acknowledge she heard him, and left the bridge. The door closed behind her, leaving her in the quiet corridors, only the sounds of her boots loud over the hum of the ship as she walked. 

She wished she could explain her impulsive reaction to Enzo, wished she could find the words that gave her actions any kind of logic. Particularly since she couldn’t explain to herself. 

Walking around the corner, she found Bonnie waiting on her. There was grease smeared on one cheek and her mouth was pulled into a frown. Sighing, Caroline rubbed her forehead. “Are you going to yell too?”

Bonnie seemed to consider that, the data pad she held tapping against her thigh before she sighed. “I’d like to. But would it do any good?”

“Probably not.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” She held out the data pad with a sigh. “I still have a bottle of that shit you call liquor in my room. When this is over, you’re going to owe me an explanation.”

Caroline’s fingers curled around the peace offering. “It’s a pretty long story.”

“You noticed I said an entire bottle?”

There wasn’t much she could say to that. “Deal.”

Bonnie nodded and tipped her head towards their small medbay. “Good luck.”

Taking a deep breath, she nodded and pressed her palm to the door, unlocking it so she could step inside. He was waiting for her, the familiarity of him the same punch to her system as it had been before. He’d lost the horrible prison uniform, Bonnie must have felt far more charitable than she’d wanted Caroline to know. But then, her friend had spent her own time in the prison uniforms herself and still avoided the color orange. 

But that meant he was now shirtless, his bandaged ribs on display, his expression guarded. 

Caroline gave herself a moment to absorb that change in perspective, to take him in. The tumble of curls still touched the tops of his ears, but he’d cleaned up his beard so that only a short stubble remained, leaving behind a man’s face, thin from his time beneath Titan but hardly weak. His eyes were gold touched blue, and awareness brushed down her spine. The decades since she had last seen him were stacked behind his eyes, visible in the way he had grown into his skin.

But the impact of him, the jolting rush of recognition from earlier still lingered beneath her skin. The sudden awareness of who he was and the bone deep hello she couldn’t explain. Which made no sense, had made no sense when she was hauling his ass through Titan. If the boy who had once been kind to her was buried beneath lean muscle and a hardness she recognized from her own mirror, she didn’t see him. This man, with his steady gaze and roughened features was a stranger.

She didn’t know what to think of the way he watched her. He brought so many complications with him. Tipping her head, she arched a brow with more casualness than she felt. 

“Werewolf, huh?” Caroline kept her voice even, and the edge of his mouth curled. “I’d have remembered that if you’d mentioned that little detail before.”

He took his time responding, gaze dragging down her body in a thorough perusal that left her skin tingling as if he’d touched her. “Caroline Forbes. I must say, you were not who I was expecting.”

She snorted. “Yeah, well, me either. I wasn’t there to rescue you.”

His gaze narrowed. “Then why were you there?”

Caroline kept her voice bland, shifting her weight to tap one boot against the floor. “New boots.”

And Klaus Mikaelson blinked at her as if the words that were coming out of her mouth were in a dialect he had never heard before. She felt a perverse amount of satisfaction from that. The Klaus she had known had been a few years older and nearly unflappable, outside of the mercurial moodiness of his temperament.

“New boots.”

“Yup. And lucky for you that I decided I needed them. There are reasons that Titan has never lost a prisoner before.” She tossed the data pad in front of him. “I don’t know who or what you were expecting when you made it onto the surface level, but if I hadn’t found you and decided to help, you’d have been collared and sent right back into the depths of the station.”

Caroline wasn’t certain she’d ever shake the shock of it: turning the corner, and finding Klaus standing there. Klaus, who she had thought of only in the safety in the dark of space, when she allowed herself to remember that tumultuous year she’d spent with her feet on solid earth. She had hoped for him to have married, to have had a batch of sarcastic moody children, to have grown old having survived the machinations of his mother. 

Another quiet piece of her past disappearing before she’d gained even so much as a hint of a wrinkle. 

But he hadn’t, and now she didn’t know what to think. 

When she’d seen him, his beard had been too long, the shackles from his cell had still been curved around the bones of his wrists. He’d been slightly hunched, the blood on his uniform not just from whoever had gotten between him and his escape, and the way he stood said something had hurt but he was on his feet. 

Somehow, she hadn’t gotten any of that blood on her. Right then, she was regretting that a little. A single touch of his skin against her own, and she’d have managed to avoid some of this conversation as she’d been given the answers. For the first time, she cursed the prison uniform for more than its obnoxious color and terrible material.

And now here she was , struggling to understand the certainty she hadn't felt in decades when she’d seen him. Her mother’s blood never forgot an enemy, but it also never forgot a friend, and once, a very, very long time ago, she’d thought of him as such. The punch of that knowledge had been staggering as they’d stared at each other, too much between them, and she’d heard the alarms blaring from beneath the soles of her feet. 

She hadn’t been able to turn, to leave him like she should have. Swearing at him, at herself, she’d moved forward and slid her arm beneath his and gritted out an order to stay quiet and to follow her. 

And he had. Now here they were. On her ship, trying to outrun the long reach of Titan. His gaze finally left her face and lowered to the datapad before returning to hers in a silent question.

“Bonnie is med-trained,” Caroline lied easily. “She did a data scan before I came in when she was tapping up your ribs. I know earth uses the prisoners below Titan for experimentation, but did you ever hear them mention what they were putting into your blood?”

“Bonnie,” Klaus said softly. “Is a witch.”

She didn’t lower her eyes. Esther had been a witch. “Is that going to be a problem for you?”

Not even a flicker of a lash. “No.”

“Because if it is,” Caroline said, “I will toss you into the airlock myself. Werewolves can last for a few minutes in the black, you know. Not long enough to live, but long enough to fight for it.”

The yellow in his gaze spread in a wash of power. “Threats already?”

“Duh,” she replied. “This is my ship, my crew. I might have saved you, but you try to harm them, and you’re going to see what it’s like trying to breathe in a vacuum.”

Klaus laughed, low and rich, and it ran across her senses like a touch. “Your threats have gotten better, love. I approve.”

Caroline snorted. “I’m touched. Really.”

He didn’t move towards her, but the sudden intensity to the way he watched her, the wolf clear in his gaze, left her very aware of the careful distance and one table between them. “I think you’ll find that even here, on this ship you’ve claimed and marked as your own, that I am not so easy to destroy.”

She didn’t doubt he believed that, that he was capable of horrible things, even injured, but she refused to give him an inch. Not here, not now. Not yet. Not when her ship would tear itself apart to protect its heart. “So says the werewolf that had to be rescued from humans.”

Klaus’ gaze narrowed, a flicker of deep seated rage there and gone again. “The result of an unfortunate betrayal, one I plan to deal with as soon as I am off this ship.”

There was something dangerous there, something terrible that kept her from asking the questions that lingered on her tongue. “Are you going to be a danger to my crew, Klaus?”

His head angled to the side, and there was nothing soft about his expression. “Will you believe my answer?”

“You’ve never lied to me before,” Caroline said slowly, feeling her way through the strange sense of knowing she hadn’t been able to shake. The buzzing of her mother’s blood. She wanted to believe him. “I don’t have a reason to think you’d start now, though you were apparently keeping some pretty big secrets.”

Klaus went motionless in front of her, the flex of his jaw unexpected as he stared at her. The wolf slowly faded from his eyes as he clearly weighed her words. “I intend no harm to your people, Caroline. Witches or no. But I cannot say the same for my enemies.”

She shoved her fingers through her bangs. “And just who are they?”

“Why did you rescue me, Caroline?”

She blinked. “Does that matter?”

A hint of a dimple curved along his cheek, and Klaus crossed his arms, leaning against the table. She tried very hard to ignore the shift and flex of muscle, the bare skin still on display. The fascinating movement of his tattoo. “Very much, I’m afraid.”

She mirrored his stance, arms crossing across her chest. “And why is that, exactly?”

“Caroline.”

“Klaus.”

“I’ve answered a number of your questions,” he pointed out in a reasonable tone that made her teeth clench. “It's only fair that you do the same, don’t you think?”

“I wasn’t the one rescued.”

His teeth gleamed in the lighting. “A man has reasons to be concerned when a near stranger offers him his freedom. Particularly in such… serendipitous circumstances, don’t you think? The black is full of terrible things. Slavers. Blood Witches. Those influential human scientists who wish to unlock the immortality of magic without the cost. We knew each other a long time ago, love.”

Her eye roll was automatic. “Oh yes, I’ve risked my reputation and my neck to drag you off to a backwater moon so you can become someone’s wolf bitch. How did you guess?”

The hint of amusement that had tugged at his lips disappeared, and something hard entered his eyes. “The truth, if you please.”

It was a velvet threat said in a voice lined in steel. She hadn’t liked that tone from him when she’d been seventeen, and she liked it even less now, knowing of the wolf that lived under his skin. She forcibly reminded herself that she’d have questions if he’s just up and rescued her too. Locking him in the med bag until he was reminded of his manners wasn’t a smart decision. Yet, at least. 

She lifted her chin and held that inhuman gaze, unblinking. “You were something of a friend, once. I hadn’t forgotten that and I have no love for cages. Though I suppose I should worry why humanity decided to bury you in their favorite graveyard. There are some things even I won’t look past. Are we going to be enemies, Klaus?”

Truth and lies, they tangled together and she wondered if he saw them. None of that had been in her mind when she’d seen him, none of that had mattered. Her reaction had been inexplicable and confusing, and it wasn’t something she was willing to discuss. Not now, preferably never. 

“You don’t want me as your enemy, love.”

Caroline scoffed. “I’m not sure I want you as my friend. The last werewolf I made an acquaintance of was a real dick, and this conversation isn’t shaping up to prove you’re much different.”

“And would that werewolf happen to be the esteemed Marshall Lockwood?” His words were casual, as if that information actually existed outside her head. As if he knew. But Klaus had known Tyler once, and that made her wonder. 

“Marshall Lockwood is not up for discussion .”

Klaus brow arched with intrigue. “So the rumors are true.”

“That would depend on the rumors.” It was a strain, to hold that slightly bored expression. To keep her pulse steady. 

“Lockwood should have been promoted past Marshall decades ago.” Klaus dragged his gaze down her face, and for a heartbeat she imagined those eyes lingered on her lips. “The why’s have always generated a great deal of speculation. He passes as human, you see. He is also loyal even when that loyalty is detrimental. The rumors of blackmail, of alien involvement have been rampant for years.”

She’d made a point not to follow those rumors, and it was a struggle not to wince. No wonder Tyler hated her. But she remembered the way he’d spat Tech Witch, the way he’d made it clear to anyone around him, and that wince turned to anger. He’d made his choices. 

“You’re pretty knowledgeable for a man who was locked away in the depths of Titan.” Caroline said slowly. “Why exactly did they toss you into their comfy retirement home? Werewolves take resources to hold.”

His smile was slow and sharp. “Humanity considers me a threat.”

“That hardly makes you special.” She waved a hand towards the walls of her ship. “Earth considers everyone not fully human a threat. It’s a long, extensive list.”

“True. Let’s say then, that I have made an effort to be noticed.” His eyes glittered. “They are well aware of who I am.”

“How wonderful for you. How?”

Klaus studied her for a long moment. “When you said you couldn’t return, you meant it, didn’t you?”

Her breath caught in her throat at those softly voiced words, the memories they dragged violently to the surface. The way she could almost smell the smoke, feel the splash of her mother’s blood against her face. 

“I never lied to you.” Caroline said. “Even then.”

Especially then. 

Not when she had a choice.

He gave a nod, the wolf back in his eyes, as if he had come to some internal decision. “Esther didn’t survive you leaving the planet.”

She blinked, frowned. “Esther was amassing a cult following, how did anyone get through that? And how does this answer my question?”

A sharp slash of a smile. “I killed her.”

Caroline stared at him. Esther had been his mother. “I don’t understand.”

He lowered his arms, shifting his weight carefully. “My mother… Esther was a monster. And so was Mikael.”

“They did try to sacrifice my mom, so no arguments there.” She let the bite of her nails into her palm ground her. “But they were also powerful, which is why we ran.”

And why she’d been willing to barter with Tyler’s mother to get him off that world, the one family with limited permission to leave the planet without the terrible protocols. Not that it’s done her any good, in the long run. Tyler had chosen to bury what he was and to become something he wasn’t. And she...

She’d woken to the cold berth of her ship alone, the only clue the blood that had stained the walls, the floors, of what had been her mother’s room. That ship had been destroyed in the heart of a sun, the blood too potent and the horror of it too binding. The ship sang too mournful song, a song of rage and sadness even as she watched it disappear in an explosion that erased it down to the last molecule.

“Yes,” Klaus agreed. “But by rescuing Liz, you allowed the rest of us to find our freedom.” A lowering of his lashes, charm in every word. “I suppose that means you’ve saved me twice.”

For a long moment their gaze held, and the room felt several degrees too warm. It had been Klaus’ hands who had caught her when she had staggered at the weight of her mother. Klaus who had told her to go, as the screams around them had grown in fever pitch as the fires Kol had set to burn began to consume houses. 

Clearing her throat, Caroline shook her head. “If you killed Ester that debt is even. But what does any of this have to do with you escaping that planet and pissing off enough people you got tossed into Titan? Stop avoiding my questions.”

Another flash of teeth, a deliberate god behind his eyes. “And where have you been all these years, Caroline?”

“Seriously?”

“Yes.”

Hand sliding to her hip, Caroline glared. “What do you mean? Space is a big place.”

“You’re not an easy woman to find,” Klaus said casually. “Even when one knows what to look for.”

Unexpectedly, her heart jolted into her throat. “You shouldn’t have been looking for me at all.”

The dip of the crease of his cheeks, the curve of his smile were all predatory. “No?”

“My mother paid her debts,” Caroline said bitterly, chin lifting. “I owe you nothing.”

“No,” he repeated, voice softening. “You do not. I believe if anything, if what you say is true, I owe you.”

Her gaze narrowed, but his eyes didn’t waver from hers. Motioning towards the pad on the table in front of him, she firmed her words. She was done discussing her mom. “I bet Titan’s food sucked. I’ll find you an energy bar while you read that report.”

She turned her back to him, and it itched along her spine. But even a werewolf couldn’t get a clean jump on her in her own ship and to flinch now would be to lose ground. Digging through the supplies they kept for emergencies, she found a shirt that would probably fit with something like regret. Another drawer for one of Bonnie’s stashed meal replacements, and she walked over and set them both in front of him. 

For a moment, she imagined she could feel the heat radiating from his skin, even with the table between them. She shook the thought off, ignoring the way she could almost pick out the scent of his skin beneath the sterility of the prison smell. Klaus, for his part, had done as she said and was looking at the data pad, the full line of his mouth pressed into a thin line. 

“You’re sure this is accurate?”

“Bonnie doesn’t make mistakes,” Caroline said. “Not about this. And neither do I.”

“Why show this to me?”

She tipped her head and studied him. Considered the words she wanted to say. “Titan is full of the echoes of old ghosts. The kind humans cannot see, even in the black. The kind that skitter along nerves, that flicker with the hum of an engine, that race across a tablet screen in the shape of quick anomalies and distortions. What that station swallows, it keeps.”

There was no judgement in Klaus’ eyes at her reminder of her alien blood, the gifts that left her far more integrated into technology that should be possible. Tech Witch. If only it was so simple. 

“So you’ve said.”

“So I did.”

Those brilliant eyes narrowed. “Tell me, love. Your people avoid human space. Yet, here you are. Why?”

Her lips twisted. What few of them were left. “We avoid humanity for good reason. We… the best way to put it is we leave behind our own echoes, and too many… well, this ship would swallow its enemies too. Titan would never allow that sort of integration, but they fear it. What it could become.”

“Titan has no consciousness, no knowing.” Klaus said, as if he’d been prepared for what she would admit. “It’s halls are lined with human nightmares, not the kind your people give shape to.”

“Humanity has never been so simple.” Caroline returned. “The remnants of my people… they litter empty colonies like broken alters. What humanity tries to do with those bits and pieces could never be allowed on earth, could never be allowed to be seen as anything but human invention.”

“Nanotechnology is not new.” He pointed out, referencing the report she’d given him to read, the details Bonnie had included for him. So he could understand. “Humanity has been experimenting with improving vaccinations and healing for more generations than have passed since your people’s first contact. Even in the black, the science of it has trickled out into space. Improved healing, improved health, longer life spans as organs stop failing quite so quickly.”

“What we suspect that they have injected you with is not so simple.” She gave him a brief smile, barely more than the bitter curve of her lips. “Over the last twenty years, we’ve discovered that the scientists on Titan have been less than satisfied with the dozens of prisoners that earth sends them each year as experiments. They’ve turned their eyes towards slavers, towards their own people when it suits them. I can’t imagine how delighted they’d have been, to have found themselves in the position of having a werewolf in their grip. Whatever they injected you with, it’s going to be dangerous.”

Klaus ran his finger thoughtfully down the screen of the pad. “Experiments with what technology survived the fall of your people seems like a bit of an extreme jump in logic. Earth would never sanction such things as the fallout should it be proven would be terrible.”

She’d once thought the same. That had changed. Caroline held out her palm, nudged her chin towards the pad. “There is an easy way to tell. If Bonnie was right. If we’re wrong.”

A simple touch, and she would know just what part her people’s cast off ruins were being used in the torture of those Titan claimed as its own. To see what they had shoved in his veins, this man-made monster who might now carry worse sins in his blood than he knew.

In front of her, the line of his throat went taut, the cords of his throat in sudden, sharp relief. What blue had returned to his eyes disappeared under a wash of gold so potent, she felt it sizzle across her nerves. 

“Ah,” he murmured, voice dipping low and deep. “That might be more complicated than you know.”

She frowned. “Why? If they managed to inject you with their bastardized nanonites, touching you will let me confirm. Removing them is the complicated part.”

And would require help. Not something she thought the wolf would enjoy. Not when he was injured. 

“Tell me, Caroline, do you know why Earth, why the Federation, put such a strict quarantine on my home world?”

The sudden switch of topics sent warning fingers dragging down her spine. “You mean other than it being infested with witches and apparently the occasional werewolf, the two things they like to pretend don’t exist?” She wrinkled her nose. “I always assumed it was one hell of a prison planet.”

There were a few of those, scattered around the galaxies. Klaus’ homeworld had been unique in that it was beautiful, and it inhabited more than just a prison carved into an otherwise uninhabitable chunk of rock. But it was also full of horrors, and not all of them had been man made. 

He laughed softly, but there was no amusement in his eyes. “You’re not entirely wrong. But what they wished to trap there is more complicated than blood and magic.”

“Very few things are more complicated than either of those,” Caroline said carefully. “And all of them are alien in nature.”

The flicker of approval on his face shouldn’t have mattered. “Earth has mostly forsaken its children spread among the stars, but not all survivors consider themselves lost. My mother certainly didn’t.”

“Your mother was a fanatic.”

A tip of his head in casual agreement. “My grandmother called it an artifact, my mother thought it was a map. My father knew it for the danger it was, and it cost him his life.” He gave a careful shrug of his shoulder. “The werewolf homeworlds have long since been thought to be lost, though most people believe their Armadas must disappear to somewhere. Esther sought to change that.”

“The werewolf homeworlds?” Caroline repeated incredulously. “No one even knows if they truly exist, or if they do, how they came to be.”

A thoughtful glance from beneath his lashes. “So you do know the stories.”

“Yes, because they are stories.” She crossed her arms with a scoff. “It’s everyone’s favorite boogeyman bedtime tale. Particularly once their ships started to have more frequent sightings.”

“Enlighten me.”

Caroline rolled her eyes. “Of what, rumor? Urban legend? Seriously, Klaus. What could you possibly have not heard? The stories that blame witches for your existence, the gift that the black pulled from your blood? The ones that blame earth's scientists who went deep into the heart of a solar system that no longer has a name. Or my personal favorite, the ones that blame my mother’s people, though how they came to those conclusions I don’t know. They left behind experimenting on flesh and blood eons before they were destroyed. There is no fact behind any hint of a rumor that currently exists.”

“The werewolf gene is an interesting one,” Klaus murmured. “It breeds true but not always in strength. Ansel thought it had to do with our longevity, that when born on planets where it was peaceful, we didn’t need that strength.”

“Ansel?”

“My father.”

“Your…” staring at him, she struggled to find a coherent thought. It hadn’t occurred to her that Mikael couldn’t have been Klaus’ father. But perhaps it should have. Esther had been a witch, as were her children. All except one. 

“What are you saying?”

“Esther’s ambition knew no bounds,” Klaus said. “She planned to use your mother’s blood to find the werewolf homeworld, to activate the map she suspected your people had left behind. And then she hoped to conquer it. But to conquer, she needed a weapon, one she could bind with the familial bond.” Another careful movement as he rolled his shoulder. “Ansel wanted to know if having a son under the horrors of our moon would grant strength back into his line. For a while, they’re politics aligned. It was short lived, as was with most things my mother touched.”

Caroline swallowed hard at the implications of his words. That he was that weapon. That her mom was a key to finishing worlds long lost. “That’s insane.”

“Perhaps. My mother was certainly many things, and sane was not one of them. But my father.” A slow tilt of his lips, the blunt edge of his teeth barely visible. “My father was not wrong. Though he was not entirely right, based on Tyler’s pathetic existence.”

“This,” Caroline said slowly, straightening her shoulders. “Is not your home world.”

The I am not your prey, hung between them. 

His smile widened. “Esther did not expect you or your strength to defend your mother.” His wolf glimmered in jagged shards behind his eyes. “That seems to be a weakness in my family, as twice now, you have surprised me, when I know better. I’m very aware of where I stand, love.”

Strength that had eventually failed her. That had left her with nothing but the smeared remains of her family. “Why tell me this? Why bring up any of this?”

“I looked for you,” Klaus said, voice dipping into a caress that was almost a touch. “All these long years that I’ve spent among the stars. Hunted for a mention of your ship, chased every glance of gold from the corner of my gaze. And yet, when I looked for you naught, when my only thought was survival, there you were.”

Caroline’s stomach flipped at his words and she forced herself to hold his gaze. “I didn’t want to be found.” 

“So I’ve gathered.” The dryness in his tone almost wrangled a smile from her. “But finding you has never been about just want, Caroline, but need.”

She bared her teeth. “So I am just an alien to you.”

Klaus moved, a slow deliberate shift of his body to remove the barrier of the table between them. Caroline had to sink her heels into the floor to hold her position, and while he didn’t touch her, he was close enough that when he dipped his head, his breath brushed along her chin. 

“If only it was that simple.” He tipped his head, the movement strangely wolffish. “If only. You know what I am.”

Her fingernails dug into her palm as she wondered when she’d started to lose control of this conversation. “Yup. Werewolf, asshole, planet born. Big deal.”

An exhaled noise of amusement. “Alpha.”

She blinked. Blinked again. “Alpha of what? A backwater planet that eats its people regularly as it’s own wonderful world of sacrifice? Sounds awesome. Big congrats.”

A dimple creased his cheek. “You wanted to know who my enemies are, love? They are many, and varied. Earth, certainly. A number of werewolf tribes. The families of those whose son’s I left broken in my path to ruling. My inheritance from my father came with a heavy price, but it did not come without its gifts. Thankfully, the Armada did eventually see my value.”

“Armada,” she rasped. Swallowing, she tried again. “The werewolf armada. You are seriously trying to tell me you escaped your homeworld, and… what. You challenged your way right to the top of leadership? In the werewolf armada. The ships that are nearly impossible to find, that are made up of mercenary bands and other wonderful, loving people and they just let you stroll in and start killing people?”

“Yes.”

He sounded so unbelievably satisfied. “Well, clearly that didn’t stick since you ended up in the bowels of Titan.”

“Careful,” he murmured.

“Or what?” She wiggled her fingers, careful to not touch him. “You’re still on my ship, presumed alpha or not, and I can still space you. I probably should.”

An arch of his brow, though nothing about his body said he was worried about her threat. “Oh?”

Caroline gave him an annoyed look. “Have you not listened to a single thing I’ve said? Nanobites, Klaus. My people’s technology that’s been fucked about by humans into who knows what, swimming around in your bloodstream. Do you know what else they put in those things? Trackers.”

“Ah.”

“Yes, ah.” She lifted her chin. “Which brings us full circle to the original problem. I need to see exactly what they injected into you, and then Enzo and I might have to remove them, which is going to be a bitch for everyone. Otherwise dumping you on a planet to apparently contact your armada to come pick you up will mean absolutely shit. You’ll be cooling your heels on Titan in a matter of hours.”

“Enzo.” His voice turned cool, the line of his shoulders stiffening. “Who is Enzo?”

“My co-pilot,” Caroline said. “And someone I trust.”

Klaus moved, a quick shift of his weight that put his nose and mouth excruciatingly close to the skin beneath her ear. His breath was hot and damp, and she froze as he breathed deeply. “You don’t smell of him. So not lovers. Good.”

Caroline spluttered and took two steps back, cheeks hot. “That is none of your damn business.”

“I think you’ll find that is not entirely the case the moment you put your hands on me, Caroline.” His eyes met hers, and there was nothing human in the expression behind them. “You marked me decades ago.”

She straightened her spine, denial on her tongue, even as beneath her feet, her ship hummed with attention. “I did no such thing.”

His laugh echoed harshly between them and he prowled towards her, the line of his jaw set. “No? I disagree. So does my wolf. You’ve been in my blood so long, what does a mere echo of your people compare? Even the other wolves, the ones who sought my favor, who wished for my benevolence never quite dared ask for more than what I offered. They too, saw the claim you’d etched into me.”

“That’s impossible.”

An amused, indulgent glance that spoke of too many things that left her so very aware of how close he was standing to her. “Is it? You know the stories of your people as well as I do. My kind have a similar belief, though it is rare away from our worlds. Of claiming, of mating.”

Her fingertips tingled with the need to feel that uncompromising edge of his jaw and she swallowed. Tried not to think of the way her blood reacted to him, the impulsive need to help him. Mate. Impossible. “Klaus…”

His head lowered, lips lingering so close to her own. “Why did you save me?”

Caroline gave a tiny shake of her head, terrified that she’d give into the need to lean just a little forward. “I told you.”

“New boots,” Klaus murmured. “I suppose it doesn’t matter.” He straightened, and smiled, dimples on full display, cutting deep. “There is an easy way to tell. If I am right. If I am wrong.”

Her throat ran dry. 

Klaus spread his arms slowly, moving to lean back against the table. “Do your worst. Go ahead, tell me what runs beneath my skin. All of it. But, Caroline.”

She took in a deep breath, lifting her chin to meet those moon glow eyes, that daunting smile. 

“Don’t say that I didn’t warn you, love.”

[kolbisneat]

MONTHLY MEDIA: March 2021

Hey March was a weird month what with all the pandemic anniversaries and such but here we are. It’s March. Goodbye March.

……….FILM……….

Attack the Block (2011) After about 20 minutes my partner asked if this was basically a British episode of Goosebumps and....she’s not wrong? I liked it back when it came out but it’s aged really well. Tight script and casual class politics along with the very good space stuff.

Who Framed Roger Rabbit (1988) It turns out I’d remembered so little of this movie that it was essentially a fresh viewing. The artistry and ambition still holds up today plus a noir set in L.A. is always good time. But then you add cartoon hijinks and it’s all just that much better.

The New York Times Presents: Framing Britney Spears  (2021) So we watched the ep on Britney Spears and...it didn’t really seem to cover all that much. It kept feeling like it was about to start and then after an hour and a half of that it just sorta wraps with a small legal victory. I know this isn’t fiction so I’m not expecting a happy ending, but I don’t know what it wanted to say.

CBS presents Oprah with Meghan and Harry  (2021) I mean I don’t think anything said or shared was surprising anyone. Though I appreciate Oprah not letting either of them sidestep a question. Either answer or say you won’t; none of this fancy poetry.

……….TELEVISION……….

Great British Bake Off (Episode 9.01 to 9.04) This is our first season without Mary Berry, Sue, and Mel and it’s a real shift! But despite all the new faces, it still feels very much like the good-natured GBBO I’ve come to love. Great stuff.

City of Ghosts (Episode 1.01 to 1.06) I hope all that I’m seeing about this means that Netflix will greenlight another season and more television like this. The artistry is fantastic, the concept allows for both whimsy and poignancy, and it’s casually funny in a way that I can’t fully describe. Great stuff.

WandaVision (Episode 1.09) So this didn’t quite stick the landing for me. I figured there’d be some blasts and magic and zooming around in the sky, but I also assumed we’d get some resolution (maybe even consequences) for what Wanda did to the town. Sure, she’s not the villain and it wasn’t intentional, but the show appeared to be built around this theme of denial and acceptance yet abandoned that in the end. But I will give it this: it really has sold me on the relationship between Wanda and Vision.

The Night Manager (Episode 1.05 to 1.06) You know I think I’ve been so primed by Bond films and action set pieces that, while I won’t spoil the ending, I was pleasantly surprised by how it wrapped up. It was a nice change of pace. 

The Bachelor (Episode 25.09 to 25.12) What a season. It was a mess, sure, but I also think it was the uncomfortable mix of stagnation and progress. The show needs to evolve and I feel like the finale and aftershow really highlighted that the change has to happen. Maybe it’s starting to happen already or in future seasons it’ll change whether production likes it or not.

……….READING……….

Gideon the Ninth by Tamsyn Muir (Complete) Really fantastic read and such an effortless blend of science fiction and...necromantic fantasy! Dark and gross and light and funny all at the same time. 100% recommend and am very excited for the next entry despite this feeling whole and complete on its own.

The Wonderful Wizard of Oz by L. Frank Baum (Complete) I want to work my way through the series (or at least the original 14 written by Baum) so we gotta start at the beginning! There’s such a light air about the book that everyone kinda just rolls with everything. Sentient objects and talking animals and lots of murder are just met with a “Great! on to the next adventure!” and I love it.

The Marvelous Land of Oz by L. Frank Baum (Complete) It’s really great that the second book has a lot of the same core components (human child meets a bunch of wacky sidekicks while on a very small adventure) yet casually expands the mythos and world. It even builds on the plot established by the first book (the main conflict revolving around Scarecrow being overthrown as leader of Oz ever since the Wizard disappeared). Great stuff.

Ozma of Oz by L. Frank Baum (Complete) Bringing back Dorothy and it’s really a merging of characters from book 1 and 2. If anything, this series is shaping up to be about making friends and the genial conflict resolution is really heartwarming. Now i’m keen to watch Return to Oz.

Dorothy and the Wizard in Oz by L. Frank Baum (Complete) This might just be me but I find a mostly human cast (outside of Jim the Cab Horse) to be far less interesting than the diverse adventuring parties of the first three books. Lots of fun stuff in here and playing fast and loose with the world-building works well; highlight the fun parts of a land made of wood and then continue on to the next location! Great stuff.

Delicious in Dungeon Vol. 9 by Ryoko Kui (Complete) It feels like everything is starting to come together and wrap up and I’m totally here for a story that knows what it wants to do. And while there doesn’t seem to be as much room cooking with the overarching plot that is driving the story, it never feels like it’s moved away from the heart of the characters and for that I can’t recommend it enough. Excellent world-building, excellent cast, and really great humor.

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: The IDW Collection Volume 9 by Kevin Eastman, Tom Waltz, Mateus Santolouco, Dave Wachter, Pablo Tunica, Sophie Campbell, and many more! (Complete) The human/secret agent stuff will always be boring to me (even if they’re hunting the turtles) cause that’s not what I want in a comic. I don’t want Batman hunting burglars, I want bright colourful villains for our bright and colorful heroes. Luckily we get into a pocket dimension for a toad god and his relatives during the second half of the volume. Overall, still my favourite ooze series.

……….AUDIO……….

Musicalsplaining (Podcast) Great host dynamics and hot dang I love a good musical.

……….GAMING……….

Neverland: A Fantasy Role-Playing Setting (Andrews McMeel Publishing) The group has taken a break from the infected giant colony to sort out some Pirate drama! Further session breakdowns are over here on Reddit!

Dungeons & Designers (Podcast) I had the rare chance to play in a D&D campaign instead of run it and it’s even up online! They also air the sessions through their podcast!

And that’s it! As always, let me know anything you think I should check out and thanks for reading.

Happy Wednesday.

[littlemessyjessi]

“Chasing Jessi”:  A Sirius Black Story: Plus Size OC: Chapter 7: Tinkerbell & The Lost Boy

————————-

Sirius Black Imagine Turned Story

Re-Written and Edit of an old story of mine I had on Mibba that deserved some more love and attention, lol.

Sirius Black x Jess Scamander (OC, OFC, PLUS SIZE OC, PLUS SIZE OFC)

————————————

-------------------------------

Sirius Black was lounging comfortably in his bunk. He hadn't even bothered to change out of the KISS shirt and black flannel pajama bottoms at this point. He was reading through a book that he'd borrowed from Jess. Contrary to popular belief... Sirius actually loved to read. 

He’d rather die than admit that but he’d learned from an early age that it could easily provide an escape from his horrible daily life. 

Again though, he’d rather die than admit and let someone see him doing it. 

He was up rather early on a Sunday morning- something that used to be obscenely out of character before he played Quidditch. Now, it seemed that his biological clock was against him. However, it proved rather useful when wanting the shower to yourself or getting to breakfast while everyone was still in bed.  He'd been to breakfast already and was currently just relaxing for he had been informed by a tired looking Lily Evans that Jess was not coming down for breakfast this morning. He had been slightly disappointed but guessed that it was because the two girls had been up late talking. He figured that girls did that just as much as boys did. Although, for Jess's sake he hoped not because James had nearly driven him mad last night by both talking about every detail of his and Lily's date and all but demanding the same from Sirius. Honestly, boys were just as bad as girls when it came to gossip. 

If not worse.  However, he supposed he could just try and read this ridiculous book of hers until she awoke. He had really just settled in and was beginning to immerse himself into this fantasy world when.... "Sirius!!!" His brows furrowed and he glanced over at Remus who was studying on the floor in front of his bunk but he only shrugged.

"Sirius! Ooof! Sorry! Sirius!" "What in the name of Merlin?" he pondered as he sat the book down and went to the door to see none other than his hyperactive girlfriend balancing a package on her hip and apologizing to a fourth year boy who went white as a ghost at the sight of her. "You're ...you're not supposed to be up here." the boy said. "Oh, I'm sorry." she said to him. "I'm just looking for Sirius. See, I have something I have to-" The boy was too shaken to speak. To be fair, she was still wearing her pajamas and he was a fourteen year old boy, most likely with a crush on her. And she was only wearing a big floppy yellow smiley face shirt and some rather short multi colored shorts. "Over here, love." Sirius smirk. She turned to face him with a relieved smile looking so odd with her floral cat ear headband and her big blue monster house shoes. "Thanks, anyway." she told the boy and gave him a one armed hug. Sirius almost snorted when the boy looked as if he may pass out. The poor boy probably didn't know whether he found her attractive, terrifying or strange....or all three. "What are you doing up here?" he asked her as she came to a stop in front of him, "And in your pajamas no less?" "I have something for you." she said simply but he smirked and she smacked him in the stomach, "Not that!" "Aw, and it's almost my birthday too." he moaned playfully and he opened the door and let her him. "Hello, Remus." she greeted the studious green eyed boy. "Oh, uh, hi Jess." he said a little surprised to see her there, especially in her pjs.  "Remus, she beats me." Sirius wailed dramatically. "She wounds me." "If it's to your pride..." he said. "I suggest she do it some more. Your head is far too big as it is." Jess grinned in victory. Sirius gasped, "Moony, old boy, I can't believe it! Everyone's mistreating me and it's almost my birthday!" "Sirius, if you don't come sit down, then I'm going to open your present." she informed him smartly. "Present?" he asked. "What present?" "This one." she said tapping the lid of the green box. "You got me a present?" he asked curiously taking a seat on the bunk as the box lay between them.  "No." she said. "Well, yes. I did. But this isn't it. This is from my mum and dad." "What?" he asked in disbelief. "From mum and dad." she repeated. "She sent a blasted howler as well. Damn near threatened my life if I opened it. So I'm guessing it's rather good and most likely involving food. Best open it sooner than later." Sirius' hands shook just a little as he pulled the box open and cringed as a howler floated out. It was that same familiar shape that he recognized as the ones Jess usually got. From previous experiences, he was expecting yelling but relaxed when he saw the letter transform and the dark wax sealed lips give him a smile. It began to speak in a soothing tone, "Hello, Dear. Happy Birthday! I do hope you have a good one this year and that you get this package in time. Jess mentioned that you had a particular liking for toffee and fudge so I do hope you like what's inside. She also mentioned that you loved music and so there is something extra special inside from my husband. He said that he wanted it to go someone who could appreciate her as he much as he did. I wasn't allowed to see so I'm trusting that it's appropriate and if it's it not, you'd best tell me so I can tan his hide! Everything is under the shrinking charm so all you need to do is use the Engorgio charm. If you have trouble with it, I would advise you to ask Lily rather than Jess. She means well but she tends to get terribly excited and...blow things up. We are so excited to see Jess making such lovely friends! She speaks very highly of you and bless your soul, you must be patient to deal with her antics! I do hope she isn't being too rough. Some of those pictures... Merlin, I feared she'd nearly kill you with that one on the broom. I've told her about that! Nevertheless, any friend of hers is a friend to us. Welcome to the family, sweet boy. Have a wonderful birthday, dear! May you have many more! P.S. Do not let my child con you out of your presents with her innocent face. I know that she 'seems' sweet but if you give in...you'll regret it. Trust me. Her father has been wrapped around her finger since she was six seconds old. " When the letter was finished it ripped itself up and turned to ash. Sirius was a little disappointed. It had been so nice...he had kind of wanted to keep it. He glanced up to find Remus looking at him curiously and Jess looking mildly offended. "She makes me sound like some kind of animal." she scoffed. "Well..." Remus smirked. "I'd say more reptilian. You do have a certain, what was it you called it Padfoot? Dragon lady...quality about you." "Remus Lupin!" she scolded him. "You are a booger head and I am not talking to you anymore!" "I have chocolate." he said lifting his brows at her and holding up a piece. "All is forgiven." she said racing over to join him. "So what did she get you?" she piped up from her spot with Remus on the floor. Sirius reached into the box to pull out a container and he smiled. "Toffee." he smiled. "Oooh!" she gushed and jumped on his bed. "That's mum homemade toffee! It's really good! She won a blue ribbons for it at the local Muggle fair!" He pulled another out and observed the white chunks with rainbow sprinkles. "Birthday cake fudge." he smiled as he read the label aloud. "It's really good." Jess nodded. "It tastes like white chocolate and cake batter. Mum makes it for Dad every year on his birthday. I bet she had to make two batches!" He pulled out a jar of something and for just a moment it made him think of firewhiskey but he smiled when he read the label. 'Sirius, dear, this is a new recipe I'm trying out. It's called Toffee Syrup. We like to put it in porridge, tea, pumpkin juice, coffee...come to think of it, anything really. I've added just a bit something special to this one. I'd love to hear what you think.' "Mum'll kill me for telling you this but it's really good you mix it with firewhiskey and put it over ice cream." Jess piped up and he lifted his brows at her. "And here I thought you were sweet and innocent." he commented. She laughed, "Sirius, we both know I'm far from either of those." He pulled out a black knitted hat. "Oh, Mum, doesn't want you to catch cold!" she wailed dramatically. "Don't cry on it." he teased. "But she stitched it with love, Sirius!" she wailed again. He resisted the urge to shove her off the bed when something caught his eye. A small black case and upon further inspection he realized that it was a guitar case. 'Engorgio.' he murmured and enlarged it before pulling the zipper open to reveal a beautiful black acoustic guitar. "Ophelia!" Jess squeaked. "What?" Sirius asked her. "It's Ophelia." she said. "It's Dad's guitar. He let me name her when I was a little girl." Sirius frowned, "Oh, maybe you should have it then." "Nah." she shook her head. "I'm rubbish at guitar. I'm a drums kind of girl...much to mum's dismay." She grinned wickedly and pretended to play the drums. 

She never failed to make him laugh.  He pulled it out and ran his hand over it before glancing into the case and seeing the matching strap and an envelope. He opened the envelope to reveal a small note and a silver chain with a matching guitar pick on the end. "Hello, Sirius. I hope you have a very Happy Birthday. Jess tells me that you love music along with many other things. She seems quite fond of you and speaks of you quite a lot. Which is considerably out of character for her. You have to understand that for the longest time when she wrote home...it was usually to tell us that Lily's eyebrows had grown back or that she'd was very close to finding redcap colony. Naturally, as her father, I was a little defensive about you at first. However, you seem like an alright lad and she seems to take a liking to you. Any man that will willingly let her braid rainbow colored yarn into their hair....well you're alright with me, kid. I hope you have a great birthday and you enjoy old Ophelia. P.S. If you press the guitar pick, you can record yourself. Comes in handy when you're working on songs. ' Sirius carefully sealed the letter back up and placed everything delicately back in the box. "Sirius?" Jess whispered. "You have really, really good parents." he said quietly. Remus quietly left the room, deciding it was best to give the two of them some time. "I know." she said softly. Sirius just nodded, still just slightly shaking until she placed her hand on his. "Maybe you can meet them sometime. You know, to properly welcome you to the family and all." she said. There was more to that statement than either of them were willing to talk about at that moment. Grey eyes caught green and they just stared for a moment. She decided to break the tension with some comedy. "Mum may be swayed by your charms but I will not being giving you your present from me until it's your actual birthday." she said. "You got me a present?" he questioned. "Yes, and I'm not telling so don't even try!" she scolded as she stuck her finger in his face. He smirked at her challenge as he carefully placed the box underneath his bed and grabbed her ankle. "Not even if I do...." he trailed off as he hovered above her neck. "This." She bit her lip when his lips caressed her skin. "No!" she cried out. "Don't use your tricks!" "How about here?" he asked kissing her nose. "Never." she whispered. "Alright." he said. "But I think I'll try one more." "I'll never surrender, Captain Hook!" she called out, grinning wickedly as she saw her book on his bed side table. "Now, now Tinkerbell. Let's not be rash." he teased. "Now give me some of that pixie dust." She erupted into a fit of giggles, "Sirius Black, Lord of the Cheeseballs!" He tickled her relentlessly, "Surrender!" "Never!" she said rolling out from underneath him and racing into the halls, "Lost Boys, unite! We have to defend ourselves against the terrible Captain Hook!" The muggleborns got it, thought it was weird, but go it. Everyone...just kind of wrote it off as Jess being Jess. And James Potter stood at the foot of stairs looking at his friend with an odd expression on his face. "What?" Sirius asked. James shook his head. "Nothing. It's just...you two are clearly into some weird things." he said. Sirius laughed and shoved his friend along into his room. The thing was...he didn't mind her little games. He loved them almost as much as he did her.

Chapter Six

Chapter Eight

Hello, loves! How do we feel about Sirius’ early bday present from Jess’ parents?  How are we liking their relationship so far?  

I’d love to what you think! Please feel free to hit up the ask box, blast the comment section or reblog with your thoughts and feelings! Next chappie coming soon!

All my love darlings!

Kenny

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Love, Kenny

[ladylofspades]

Headcanon for Piri and Iggy

Now this is my first time to ever make a headcanon for a series I love, so please take it easy on me!

For those interested, please read on :D

Human Name: Mariano Lorenzo Villalobos Balagtas Nickname: Enzo Name Meanings:

Mariano - male equivalent to Maria; 'bitter'; name also means 'Star of the Sea'; named after Mariano Gomez, one of the three priests executed for mutiny (GOMBURZA)

Lorenzo - means laurel in Italian; a symbol of victory, fame, honour or accomplishment; named after Saint Lorenzo Ruiz, the first Filipino saint and martyr

Villalobos - means 'town of wolves' in Spanish; named after Ruy Lopez de Villalobos, the Spanish explorer who gave Enzo his first name Las Islas Filipinas

Balagtas - means 'to trail blaze' in Tagalog- named after Francisco Balagtas, a prominent Filipino poet during the Spanish occupation; author of Florante at Laura

Personality:

Pre-Colonial - independent, organized, skilled fighter, resourceful, creative, family-oriented, hardworking, hospitable, proud of his heritage, a born leader, a great singer and a believer in the supernatural

Spanish Colonial - he still maintains the same personality as he did in the pre-colonial period, with developing traits of stubbornness, slight laziness (Filipino time), and religiousness. After being kidnapped by Britain for two years (who was a pirate at that time), he became knowledgeable in English. He develops a love-hate relationship with Spain.

American Colonial - bringing all his traits from his pre-colonial and Spanish colonial times, now with a more carefree air. Thanks to Britain years prior, Piri was fluent in English, surprising America. Piri becomes more fluent in the language to the point he made his own English language known as Philippine English -- a combination of both British and American English with a Filipino twist and -- since he was a former colony of Spain -- some Spanish terms.

Japanese Colonial - all above traits, but he became more solemn, more irritable and more stubborn after being told off by Japan right when Piri was about to graduate/gain independence.

Modern Day - he still maintains all his above traits but masked behind a more carefree, sociable, teasing, trendsetting, cheerful personality that everyone has known him for.

Headcanon for Enzo towards Arthur

At first, Enzo found Arthur weird when he spotted the latter sketching among the trees nearby. To Enzo, it's rare to find a blonde person in his home country.

But the more Arthur visited the area, the more fonder and more curious Enzo became towards him.

It was through Arthur that Enzo got a chance to see what magic is like, and is always enamored by it since then.

Whenever Arthur visits, Enzo always readies food and drinks for them. But whenever he doesn't show up and Antonio is around, Enzo would give them to his foster brother. Though he loved Antonio, the boy was still sad that his newfound friend didn't come to visit.

Enzo loved watching magic either for Arthur to him stories, or to be lulled to sleep.

Enzo felt betrayed when he found out that Arthur was a pirate. But after being assured that he was anything but in danger, Enzo relaxed, and even decided to stay with him for two years.

Enzo had a hard time speaking in a British accent; but apparently got to speak the language and learned it quickly. Of all the times he spent with Arthur, Enzo loved it when the Brit would test his vocabulary and then treat him to something sweet.

During his time with Arthur, Enzo gets to express himself more about his feelings and thoughts towards Antonio -- both good and bad.

Because of the admiration he had towards the Brit, Enzo was saddened when Arthur returned the boy to the archipelago.

When he was placed under Alfred's care, Enzo would write letters to Arthur on how he gets annoyed with the American, and openly complains about him.

To Enzo, he feared that by learning the American English, it would replace what he learned so far from Arthur. To prevent that from happening, he decided to make his own English form known as the Philippine English -- a mix of American and British English with Spanish terms. It was heavily influenced by American English, but some British terms and grammar were retained in it.

Of all the Allies, Enzo is very close towards Alfred and Arthur -- with Alfred who had watched over him until the night of independence; and with Arthur, who he had a history that dated back to when Enzo was a boy.

Headcanon for Arthur Kirkland towards Enzo

He is very much like how he was portrayed in the series, but has a soft spot for children and cute creatures.

To Arthur, Enzo was a boy whose future was taken away by Antonio. And believes that, even though Antonio meant well to keep the boy safe, Enzo would have to leave his foster brother and live on his own.

Even though he had the means to take him in, Arthur decided to not do so. But it didn't change the fact that he genuinely cared for the boy. He would watch over the boy, even if it means from afar.

Since he and Antonio are rivals, Arthur was the one who encouraged Enzo to rebel against the Spaniard. This was done not only because of the rivalry, but because he truly believed that Enzo is more than capable to fend for himself.

Though implied, even Arthur was saddened that he had to return Enzo after being called back to England.

When he found that Antonio was going to let Enzo go, Arthur immediately pushed Alfred to take care of him.

Arthur disproves of the skit plan, after finding that out from Alfred in one of the latter's visits to England.

Even after Antonio left the teen, Arthur made absolutely sure that Enzo is protected at all costs, even if it meant having Alfred taking care of him.

Whenever Alfred had problems in taking care of Enzo, Arthur would advise him on how he could take care of the teen. Having known the boy for a long time, Arthur knew how the boy acted, felt and thought. He was genuinely dismayed when Alfred decided to do things his way, and wasn't surprised when things went from bad to worse for the American; but he warned Alfred that the American doesn't do anything funny towards Enzo OR ELSE.

When the teen was finally able to live on his own, Arthur treated Enzo out to dinner celebrating his first night of independence. On that same night, Arthur says, "Let's make it official," letting out a hand for Enzo to take. They shook hands as a sign that Arthur now sees Enzo as an equal, and no longer someone else's foster child or ward; but as a person of his own.

== My Headcanon between Modern Day Enzo and Arthur ==

Since Enzo is old enough to drink, he gets to go to drinking parties with Arthur. And if there are any karaoke machines in the venue, the two would either sing together or have a singing showdown, hoarding the microphones until either both of them passed out, or sing until closing time.

Whenever Arthur gets tired to sing, Enzo continues to sing songs until he plops onto his seat.

When both are drunk, it was Alfred who drags them both to a friend's residence depending on the country they're in. If it's in Enzo's home country or region, Indo would be the one to carry them both home.

During Halloween, it became routine for Enzo to help Arthur come up with ideas in the scaring contest with Alfred.

Whenever he's bored, or when they were not occupied, Enzo would call up Arthur and invite him to a ghost hunt or a paranormal investigation.

Once they went to every haunted place in both countries, they would save up money for travel to other haunted places in the world.

Whenever they have a sleepover in England, Enzo was saddened that his Diwata couldn't come along since England was far away -- with hopes that he could introduce his fairy to Arthur's. To make him feel better, Arthur would invite Ms. Fairy, Unicorn, Brownie, Flying Mint Bunny and Captain Hook. Seeing Enzo interact with his companions was heartwarming for Arthur.

When Arthur became terribly ill to the point of being hospitalised, Enzo would always be by his side. A trained nurse himself, Enzo saw through Arthur's stay until the Brit's full recovery.

When Enzo falls ill, he would usually not tell Arthur so as not to trouble him. But was surprised to learn that Arthur found out about his sickness anyway, and cared for him until he got better.

Arthur and Enzo would cook together whenever they hang out in either residence.

Enzo would usually ask Arthur to take a selfie with him, the latter not minding at all. And whenever Alfred photobombs the selfie, Arthur would chase after him, while Enzo keeps snapping photos of himself with the two running in the background.

Enzo was the fourth person to follow Arthur in Twitter (Alfred, Francis and Matthew being the first, second and third respectively) and third to follow the Brit in Instagram; whereas Arthur was the seventh to follow Enzo in Twitter (the first six being the SEA family) and in Instagram.

Arthur is well-aware that Enzo's family was protective of the latter, and keeps a safe distance.

Ever since Arthur ran away from his group in Europe, he decided to stay with the SEA family. Enzo was more than delighted to volunteer to let Arthur stay in his house.

In contrast to Alfred, Pien grew friendly towards Arthur because of how delicately the Brit treats him. As a response, Pien would climb either on top of Arthur's head or rest on the shoulder, much to Enzo's delight.

Horror and fantasy are must-watch movie themes for Arthur and Piri during movie nights.

Whenever he finds the time, Arthur would help Enzo recap some British terms. BUT without telling Alfred unless the American asked for it.

Arthur still sketches birds from time to time, and would sometimes sketch Enzo with birds on his arms, shoulders and on top of his head, much to Arthur's amusement.

This is all I have so far for their headcanon! But for a more detailed (or nitty-gritty) story behind the headcanon, check this link out!

[what2finish]

Creator Post: Rudearrow

Rudearrow’s WTF Creator Post (Auction #1001, #1002)

Creator’s previous works: Here!

Link to GDrive Folder of WIP Summaries/HCs/Plot Bunnies Creator is Offering: Here! 

you can contact the creator before bidding at:

email: rudearrow@gmail.com

Likes:  fantasy au, sci-fi au, plotfic/casefic, found family, Redemption Arc With Hard Work, Demonstrating Contrition, and Learning to Love Yourself(tm), wingfic, lesser known pairings and characters, crossovers, whacky ideas taken seriously, whacky ideas taken whackily, bdsm

Do Not Wants: no non-con, torture, incest, or underage. no harder kinks, ie: scat, waterworks, gore, etc.

Preferred Charities of the creator: Any

Full Charities List

___

Auction #1

Type of fanwork: fanfiction

Fandom: Marvel, DC, Stranger Things, Game of Thrones, Supernatural, Mo Dao Zu Shi/The Untamed, (honestly, just email me if you like my writing... if I know your canon, I'm probably down)

Pairing(s): I'm a multi-shipper who loves underdog/rarepairs, existing WIPs are for Winterhawk, Winteriron, Winterironhawk, Robb/Theon, Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington/Dean Winchester. Platonic/grey-ace pairings welcome!

Character(s): there isn't a character from any of the canons listed that I won't write

Rating: General, Teen, Mature

Marvel WIPs:

Crimson & Clover: Urban Fantasy AU; 616 Clint & Bucky, endgame Winterhawk. Clint Barton has finally done the Right Thing(tm) and left his life of petty crime with Cirque du Nuit behind him. He’s got a GED, a bow, and coffee- and not much else. In the process of rebuilding his life, he runs into a not-so-tall, dark, and handsome stranger. Literally. He thinks a spilled latte and a bump on the head will be the end of his encounter, but with each successive run-in, he realizes that maybe luck just isn’t on his side and outrunning his past might not be in the cards after all. Current WC: 15k.

Half-splitting the Problem: Winteriron canon reversal! Feared dead after an attack on his convoy in Afghanistan nearly three months ago, the CEO of Barnes Industries has once again defied expectations. Having survived the attack and his subsequent captivity by the terrorist organization, The Ten Rings, James ‘Bucky’ Barnes has returned to American soil and turned his company upside down. Tony Stark, a young man from humble means with few options, has been working his internship with SI R&D for nearly a year now. He’s noticed activities that can only be described as ‘iffy’ at best, but with a boatload of student debt and a work history peppered with reprimands and missed deadlines he’s decided to keep his head down for the almighty dollar and hope for the best... Until he stumbles across Obadiah Stane’s personal project. Current WC: 1.5k

Seraphic (Hallowed Incorporeal Entities) Liaison Division, AKA: S.H.I.E.L.D.: Winterironhawk wingfic! Bucky Barnes has been assigned a new Seraph partner and he’s not happy about it. Tony Stark is that  Seraph and while he’s not thrilled either, it really is a lot of fun to push Barnes’s buttons. Clinton Francis Barton, unbeknownst to him, is their first assigned charge. And honestly? He could use all the help S.H.I.E.L.D. can spare. Current WC: 3k

Misadventures in Solitude: Clint Barton-centric, fwb Winterhawk, open to endgame romantic Winterhawk, alternative Clint pairing (except Nat. Sorry, for me they are always platonic soul mates), and/or poly. Just a day in the life of Clint Barton, coffee-riddled, exhausted corporate cog. He did all the “right” things- went to school, got a decent white-collar job, moved to the big city- so why is he so unhappy? And lost. Except, shit... he’s actually lost. Where the futz is he? Current WC: 1.5k

Part I:  The Space Between Us: 616 Winterhawk; Space! Kidnapped Clint! BDSM. This is technically part one to the fic I finished a few months ago on my linked Ao3, Show Me the Miles. Bucky has been chosen for the “away team”, as Stark likes to call it. While Bucky is bored almost to tears watching Stark and Rogers schmooze with extraterrestrial royalty, Clint is snatched while on a milk run mission back on Earth. Bucky, suffice it to say, doesn’t exactly take the news well. Current WC: 5.5k

Marvel HC:

Fairytale Winteriron AU: Bucky/Tony Bucky is a sprite with moth wings. Tony is a sprite with butterfly wings. Their peoples have centuries of animosity and sharp words for each other. Then ‘the fire(fly) nation attacked’ and [choose which one here] is injured, only to be saved by the other! Begrudging friendship and appreciation turn into more. Endgame is sprites in love. \o/ 

Completion WC Estimates:

Crimson & Clover, Estimated 40k+ upon completion. 

Half-splitting the Problem, Estimated 15-20k upon completion. 

Seraphic (Hallowed Incorporeal Entities) Liaison Division, AKA: S.H.I.E.L.D., Estimated 20k+ upon completion. 

Misadventures in Solitude, Estimated 10k+ upon completion.

Part I: The Space Between Us, Estimated 15-20k upon completion.

Fairytale Winteriron AU HC, Estimated 15-20k upon completion.

GOT WIP:

Manual for Spaceship Westeros: Robb/Theon; Space Colony Au! There is tension between the loose planetary alliance that calls itself Westeros. Robb Stark, as the only full-blood Stark son of age, is sent to negotiate a stronger alliance with Iron Born, a terrifying clan who has made a small water planet habitable through the genetic modification of its ancestors, sweat, and blood. Robb arrives to seek an audience with The Greyjoy and make his offer- the hand of his sister Sansa. But The Greyjoy deems this insufficient and Robb quickly finds himself on the offering plate. Current WC 2k.

Completion WC Estimate: 20-25k

Stranger Things & Supernatural: 

Billy Dean Was My Lover (working tongue in cheek title): main pairing Steve/Billy (possibly Steve/Billy/Dean?); Billy/Dean; crossover plot-ish fic! When his dad called and ordered Dean to pack up Sam then head for the Midwest, he didn’t ask questions. Apparently, strange things were happening in small town Indiana; which was usually a Winchester’s bread and butter. Yet even Dean and Sam aren’t quite prepared for the kind of strange Hawkins has, especially with John failing to meet them at the town’s motel. But there was something even more surprising than the super-powered teenage girl and a whole new world of monsters... 

Hearing the name of Dean’s tape-swap penpal out of some preppy, polo-wearing guy’s mouth. Current WC 1k.

WILDCARD, AKA: ANY HC/PROMPT FOR THE ABOVE PAIRINGS AND FANDOMS LISTED.

If you like my writing but aren’t into the WIPs here, I will write a fic that is a minimum of 10k for any character, ship, platonic pair, for any of the fandoms listed above. I’m also happy to write for material/canon I know but that isn’t listed above. If I know it well enough, I’ll write it for you! (Exception being RPS.) Just message me if you’re curious and I’ll confirm that I’m familiar with the source material. :)

Starting Bid: $10

Creator Notes:

Like my fellow mod, Mei, I am willing to work my winner's likes into my stories and am open to brainstorming sessions!

Feel free to email me to learn more about any of the WIPs stories and if you like, I will give you my Discord handle. I am willing to work with my winner's pairings as long as they don't fall into my DNWs. For Marvel the only two pairings (of the ones I am most familiar) that I just cannot see romantically/sexually are Clint/Natasha and Bucky/Steve.

Current Bid Spreadsheet: Here.

Please check what the current bid is at before bidding.

Bids might take a few minutes to load.

Bidding ends on November 28th 11:59:00pm CST. The highest bid before that deadline will win the auction.

Bidding Form: Here.

Please check the Bid Spreadsheet and bid higher than the previous bid.

You will not be notified if you have been outbid. Only the winner will be notified after bidding ends.

___

Auction #2

Type of fanwork: fanfiction

Fandom: Marvel, DC, Stranger Things, Game of Thrones, Supernatural, Mo Dao Zu Shi/The Untamed, (honestly, just email me if you like my writing... if I know your canon, I'm probably down)

Pairing(s): I'm a multi-shipper who loves underdog/rarepairs, existing WIPs are for Winterhawk, Winteriron, Winterironhawk, Robb/Theon, Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington/Dean Winchester. Platonic/grey-ace pairings welcome!

Character(s): there isn't a character from any of the canons listed that I won't write

Rating: General, Teen, Mature

WIPs/Prompt:

Literally the same as Auction #1!

Staring Bid: $10

Creator Notes:

Like my fellow mod, Mei, I am willing to work my winner's likes into my stories and am open to brainstorming sessions!

Feel free to email me to learn more about any of the WIPs stories and if you like, I will give you my Discord handle. I am willing to work with my winner's pairings as long as they don't fall into my DNWs. For Marvel the only two pairings (of the ones I am most familiar) that I just cannot see romantically/sexually are Clint/Natasha and Bucky/Steve.

**In the unlikely event that both winning bidders want the same fic and you don’t want any of the other WIPs listed, I will offer up a fic of equal or greater length for whatever HC you desire. Within, of course, the same DNW parameters listed above. This includes the Wild Card option!**

Current Bid Spreadsheet: Here.

Please check what the current bid is at before bidding.

Bids might take a few minutes to load.

Bidding ends on November 28th 11:59:00pm CST. The highest bid before that deadline will win the auction.

Bidding Form: Here.

Please check the Bid Spreadsheet and bid higher than the previous bid.

You will not be notified if you have been outbid. Only the winner will be notified after bidding ends.

[shui-xi]

You have entire world with the God of knowledge in hand

My personal interpretation of the novel I’m MTL-ing and also posting spoilers in - this thread

Surprise! It’s author of FOD! I actually had no idea because I found this novel really randomly on jjwxc, but was pleasantly surprised later. I honestly think that FOD is a cheap piece of fertilizer, but it surves as a rich foundation for later novels. Who doesn’t like authors growing, I do.

What surprises me is that it’s already 400+ chapters and all those who claim that FOD is best world hopping/quick transmigration novel are not aware of it. Shame on you lol. And there’s no translation yet. Shame on you x 2 :’D

Anyway. A quick note. This novel takes several things that author likes - super OP MC. Unlike FOD, this MC (Zhuang Li) has super high IQ, it’s so high, yet it doesn’t ruin the excitement of the novel and actually his OP-ness is a requirement of the arcs, so it logically fits in. For this let me tell you a brief summary.

Zhuang Li, as many other survivors were living as a colony on Mars (Earth was attacked by Zergs), he was ostracized for accusing a famous scientist for stealing his work, no one believed him, since he was too young. He disappears for a time, and reappears when it’s almost time for scientist’s invention to be ruined, because it was incomplete. He broadcasts this event, burns his notebook which is as graal of knowledge, opens 4th dimension and leaves to another world, leaving only half-burnt laboratory, he doesn’t care if humanity that’s left dies or not, entire Asia was long gone when they detonated bombs on Earth and shuttles with Chinese women and children failed to leave and were destroyed.

That’s the start of ZL’s journey. Unlike MC of FOD he is not restricted by any plot etc. he plays only himself, he can only play with ML at times but it also depends on a situation MC ends up in when he arrives. ML (Ming) appears in the first world, but they get together only in the second and all consequent worlds. Their relationship is quite good to me. MC is actually a leader and ML basically follows, since he understands MC lives by his own rules, you either follow or go. ML falling in love pretty quickly also fits the logic of the worlds, since his consciousness is connected to one person and they subconsciously remember and love him.

The arcs are totally different, although mostly it’s modern world, but the themes taken for each arc are very different, often MC develops that field that is under his hands or which is under ML’s hands. MC is a queenly character with a devilish charm (pale, lean, curly hair, red lips)). Why I say he leads, because it’s in his hands to basically solve the world. He cares for those who love him and original host and of course solves ruthlessly all the foes. Opponents are also different, in quality and number, but their logic and thinking also follows the logic of the story and the world.

Last but not least. MC gets a system in the first world, it’s pretty new thing how exactly he got it, 7480 became his submissive. It’s the only character that went through immense growth, from hate to fear to adoration. Even later it acts like a lazy bum and acts mostly like a pet, since MC needs it only as a means of transferring him to worlds))))

Author warns from the get-go that all technology is BS and a fantasy, so shouldn’t be treated seriously. And if you do that, things get much easier. It’s quick-paced, easy to read, lots of witty clapping back and energetic story.

[gittetj]

Build an OC: Starting from scratch

Let’s say you’ve decided to write a story but you don’t have any characters yet. In fact, maybe you don’t even know what the story is about. Maybe you’ve never even made an original character before! Well, don’t worry because you can make a decent character out of nearly anything if you know how to add some surprise and conflict to their personality. I mean, everything in the following example is something I just pulled out of thin air as I wrote it.

Usually, characters belong in a story or at least some kind of setting. Some people like to start by making a cast of characters and then let them lead to a story, others like to put together a plot and let that lead to the characters. Either way works, but since this post is about character development, we’ll go with the former approach.

For the sake of this post, let’s say all you know is what kind of story you want to make. Let’s go with something common like a young adult story about a teenage girl who discovers she has superpowers. There’re already tons of stories about teenagers with superpowers out there so now here’s a challenge to come up with a protagonist that doesn’t seem too generic.

We have to start somewhere, so just think of the most generic protagonist you can. A teenage girl before she gets the superpowers? I’m picturing she’s 16, lives with her parents, goes to school, probably has some friends and probably has a hobby she likes to do in her spare time.

Now, this girl might sound extremely boring to you, but that’s because right now you’re probably thinking of a character you’ve seen variations of a hundred times in other stories. There’re actually already plenty of variables to play around with here:

For example, where do the girl and her parents live? Maybe they’re in a country you don’t usually associate with superheroes, like South Africa or Syria or Greenland. A Greenlandic superhero? Haven’t seen that before, that might be interesting.

What kind of school does the girl go to? Maybe it’s not an average high school but rather a boarding school or a tiny school out in the countryside or maybe she’s homeschooled for one reason or another.

Her friends don’t have to be typical either. Maybe her best friend is an 80-year-old woman who used to be a stewardess or the neighbor’s 10-year-old son who really likes trains. It could be literally anyone because you don’t know what the story is about yet - you can make their personalities work together and come up with an explanation for how they became friends later.

She could have an unusual hobby like cave diving or building really advanced Lego models or it could be something that requires a lot of her time and devotion like maybe she’s working to become a professional athlete. Again it could be absolutely anything, just pick something that feels interesting to you.

This is already a lot of options and you could create even more by moving the story to a different time period or a different universe. A teenage superhero in the wild west? A teenage superhero on a Mars colony in the future? A teenage superhero in a fantasy universe where she isn’t actually very special because humans are the only creatures who don’t already have superpowers? You can do literally anything you want!

Having a million different options can be pretty overwhelming though so let’s reel it in a little, let’s sort through all these ideas to come up with something cohesive.

In this case, let's say you really don’t want to have to come up with a fantasy universe or do a lot of research on time periods or foreign countries you haven’t lived in. Most people reading this will probably either be American or be familiar with what it’s like to live in the US, so let’s say our girl and her parents are American.

Now, of all the random ideas I spewed out earlier the one that stuck with me was the 80-year-old stewardess best friend because I personally really appreciate when elderly people are included in young adult stories - and that’s what you should do at this stage, go with whatever feels right and interesting to you.

At this point, a good start would be to figure out why the 16-year-old girl and this 80-year-old stewardess are friends. The first thought that comes to me is that the girl is probably fascinated by the stewardess’s stories about all the countries she’s been to and the people she’s met through her job. If this is something that stands out to the girl she probably hasn’t traveled much herself - in fact, maybe she’s barely ever been outside her own state. Maybe she hasn’t traveled because her parents are very bound to the place they live, like maybe they’re farmers. If they’re farmers they must live in the countryside which could very well mean the girl goes to a small high school where everyone knows each other. If the girl really wants to break free of this place and everyone who only knows her as a plain farmer girl and not the adventurous traveler she really deep down wants to be, maybe that has made her a bit lonely, maybe that’s another reason she’s found an unexpected friend in the stewardess.

See how one detail can lead to something that’s starting to feel like a person worth telling a story about? There aren’t even any superpowers involved yet! Developing a character this way is a bit like doing detective work - you find a couple of pieces of evidence that seem promising and then you try to connect them and make assumptions that lead to more and more evidence until you have a clear picture of who the character is.

This story was supposed to be about the girl developing superpowers so let’s move on to that. If wanting to travel is a theme here and maybe even a conflict for the protagonist it would probably be fitting to give her a power that has something to do with that - something like flight or teleportation. Flight and a farm just make me think of Superman so let’s not do that and take teleportation instead.

What would a young girl with wanderlust and a newfound ability to teleport do? It’d be a good idea to take a closer look at her morals and personality before deciding that.

There’re a few character traits we can derive from what we already know:

The girl is curious about the world and people different from her

She picks her friends based on personality, not who it’s cool to be friends with

For that same reason, she’s probably pretty sure of her own values

She’s responsible or respectful enough of her parents to stay in her hometown despite wanting to travel

Or if you want to cook it down to just keywords:

Curious

Open-minded

Independent

Responsible

Self-restrained

Apart from the self-restraint these are all typically seen as positive traits, but rather than coming up with a similar list of negative traits to round the character off, let’s think about what the downsides can be to the traits we already decided on.

First, there’s definitely a conflict between her curiosity and her self-restraint. That’s really good; internal conflicts like that are what makes a character engaging because we can’t quite be sure which trait they’ll favor when they’re in a situation where they can only follow one of them.

Curiosity and open-mindedness in combination might make her a bit gullible. If someone told her things about the world that were false or skewed by the teller’s own agenda she might not question it.

Her independence could easily make her set in her ways, stubborn or unlikely to ask for help. She probably has strong beliefs about what’s right and wrong but since she’s so young she probably adopted those beliefs from her parents.

If she adopted her values from someone else, the kind of responsibility she expects of herself might not be right for her. This plays into the internal conflict between curiosity and restraint.

It looks like the big question this character will have to deal with is: Should she be as her parents want her to be or should she leave and find her own path?

It’s interesting to give someone like her the power to teleport because teleportation is basically ultimate freedom. She can go wherever she wants whenever she wants. Before getting her powers it’d be easy to come up with reasons why she couldn’t leave, but once she has them what’s the excuse when she can go to the other side of the world in a second? She’ll be forced to think about that conflict she’s struggling with.

I don’t know what kind of adventures our teleporting country girl will get herself into, but with a bit of brainstorming and some detective work, we already have a good foundation for both a protagonist and the beginning of a plot.

If you want to try to develop characters this way just keep building on top of what you already know. There’s plenty we don’t know about this girl yet - what does she do with her free time? What is she really good and really bad at? What does she tell people she wants to do with her life and is it the same as what she really wants? Don’t focus too much on the really flat questions (how tall is she, what’s her favorite food, what clothes does she wear) the answers to those often come up naturally as you get to know the character’s personality, and if they don’t you can figure them out as they become relevant.

If you get stuck it might be time to start thinking about the other characters in the story. In this example we already know the stewardess, the girl’s parents and some of the kids and teachers from the girl’s school will have some importance. Flesh them out and maybe it’ll reveal something new about the protagonist. You can go through the exact same steps as we just did with her, except now you already have a setting and a vague idea of where you’re going.

[kinetic-elaboration]

August 6: Star Trek 1x09 The Dagger of the Mind

Today’s episode: The Dagger of the Mind

Lol Kirk is the MOST competent person on the Enterprise, and that’s why he’s the Captain. This is like The Naked Time all over again. Must he does everyone’s job??

Mr. Berkeley, go to your room and do your homework.

But first secure the box!! I swear, no one listens to Kirk. He doesn’t even look like he’s getting a vault number, he looks like he’s just fucking around.

Hey dude, don’t open the box you’re in. Can’t you see it says don’t open on it?

Ah another episode with Jim and his heroes. I love how naive and good he is.

“Dr. Adams? There’s an emergency, but before we get to that, might I fanboy a little, discreetly?”

“When there’s no emotion, there is no motive for violence.” Well you got me there.

Excellent non-violent take-down maneuver by Kirk and Spock.

The Enterprise makes a u-turn.

Kirk just obviously making excuses to stand really close to Spock, and lean over him. “What’s so fascinating?”

“Enlighten me again.”

Spock’s expression this ep omg. Perfect. He doesn’t have a ton to do so he just takes advantage of all of his moments.

TRUST BONES’S GUT.

I love how they use their respective ship’s logs against each other, these regulation loving nerds. “I’ll write it in MY log and then YOU’LL have to answer in YOUR log, so THERE.”

Like honestly who thought ST was an action franchise that needed new actions movies??

Kirk’s man crush is insane.

Bones on Skype!

Spock just really throwing out the “Jim” for no reason today. He was much sluttier about the first name early on. Either that or fandom just misremembers this. Either that or I just misremember this.

Science lab Christmas party lol.

I am 100% certain that Kirk reacts the way he does to Noel (with a really quite extreme aversion and even rudeness that is not like him) because she made a move on him at the party that he didn’t like or thought was inappropriate. Because they aren’t exes, and she made it clear he didn’t cross any lines with her (so no reason to feel guilty) and yet he is ANGRY at her.

Another 1950s sci fi locale. (Correction: ... the same 1950s sci fi locale. Hello Delta Vega.)

Elevator, not turbo lift, I guess.

Oh no, Kirk’s cell doesn’t have service!

Any particular reason they’re drinking lol? Did people in the 60s just literally drink all the time?

They’re not very nice to Dr. Noel. She’s not really.... appearing very smart though... not the best female character on ST lol. Still, stop talking over her, you men!

This device is so hella suspicious on its face. At least Kirk kinda gets that.

This is a pretty good Spock and Bones ep.

We’re already at the introduction of the mind meld! I forgot it was this ep. I did remember how it was introduced as a very special, rare, private, dangerous Vulcan thing that definitely shouldn’t just be used wantonly and at a whim Mr. Spock.

“It’s a hidden, personal thing to the Vulcan people. Part of our private lives.”

...First that makes it sound like a sex thing. And second... I’m intrigued.

(I’ve actually always preferred general touch telepathy to mind melds specifically but.... when you put it like that.)

I think I like this original mind meld hand gesture more than the one they settle on later. It makes it look more like a physical manipulation of the body, which is what Spock describes here. I kind of forgot about that aspect of it (and perhaps everyone else did too lol).

I think this is also the first time they mention touch telepathy or any kind of Vulcan telepathy, in general.

McCoy is so disturbed watching this meld.

“I have no desire to damage my brain.” That’s good lol.

This is absolutely also the sort of thing AOS Kirk would do.

Kirk wanting to raid a kitchen is ADORABLE.

“Now pick some unusual suggestion.” What’s more unusual than the idea he picked her up and carried her off to his quarters, then ravished her like a bad boy?? People remember that scene but not that it was a woman’s fantasy lol. And a fantasy she knew was super fake and that he would recognize as super fake! Because it was!! Super fake!! No one talks like this and certainly not a captain to one of his crew and certainly not literal-opposite-of-a-bad-boy Jim Kirk.

Kirk’s so strong.

Lol she thinks he’s looking at her and he’s looking at the wall.

“Any training in high power voltage?” he asks, as if this were just a thing everyone had.

No? Well up in the air duct you go anyway. Touch the wrong thing and die! Good luck.

And in her defense... she does it and succeeds, so good on her.

Well it’s no Vulcan nerve pinch but Kirk knocks down those guys pretty well.

Spock’s expression when he sees Jim and Noel is just on a New Level omg.. Like “this is too bizarre to cause even me jealousy.”

Spock standing there over Adams’s dead body like “Hmmm, I wonder who turned the power back on? Who would do such a thing?”

So I guess Van Gelder’s okay now and Spock just fixed him lol. Very effective mind meld.

I wonder if Kirk already had a fear of dying alone or if this is what caused it--the “I always knew I would die alone” of ST V.

But then he looks at Spock to make him feel better, and Spock does. And Kirk has emotional security, the end.

Overall... I feel like I didn’t enjoy this ep as much as I remembered? I don’t know, I feel bad saying that. I thought the mind meld stuff was really great, and the story overall was pretty good. I guess a part of me wanted to go in more to this idea of a penal colony and why Adams was doing these experiments and using this machine. Like, obviously he’s making people docile, and then just experimenting like all power hungry people do--but there are two creepy things going on here, the memory erasure, and the memory replacement, and I feel like they got a bit conflated. Idk. I know Star Trek often presents questions rather than answers, but I felt like this one maybe could have gone farther.

Noel was one of those awkward ST female characters, where you can, like, tell they’re trying to be feminist but they just have their inherent limits lol. I didn’t want to find her annoying bu I often did. Also, I am quite convinced she made an inappropriate move, because I can’t imagine any other reason Kirk would be so upset with and about her. But since we never get the holiday party from his pov, it’s all left ambiguous. Her memory is of a pretty standard office party--they dance a little and he’s charming. But he acts as if it were something WAY more awkward. Like she did something that she didn’t think crossed a line, but he did. But tbh I’d be surprised if the intention was to imply a young woman sexually harassed the male captain, which makes me wonder what they were actually going for. That HE thought he crossed a line? Then it’s pretty obnoxious of him to be mad at HER. Plus, they make it canonically crystal clear later that he didn’t do anything inappropriate so.... puzzling.

OMG THE NEXT EP IS THE CORBOMITE MANEUVER ONE OF MY FAVORITES AAAAAAH.

[fyrapartnersearch]

if the saloon doors are a-swinging...

howdy, howdy fine folks! shock and surprise, i am looking for a couple of writing partners c: i am 26, and i work fulltime as well as go to school part-time, so while i cannot promise rapidfire posts, i am becoming better about daily posts! as long as they're relatively short, sweet, and to the point. so, limits/fun factoids about my style/"tl;dr are we compatible?" first: + when reaching out to me, please tell me your limits and any plot/character ideas!  + addendum: i will not respond to messages that don't contain any information about you, your limits, and what you're looking to write or what characters you'd like to use! it doesn't need to be completely fleshed out, thanks!  + i write over discord near exclusively now! + i'm adaptable and laidback! however, i do not write pedophilia, rape/sexual assault, incest, abusive relationships, romantic large age gaps, nor master x slave. i will not write explicit content with minors either.  + quality is far more valuable than quantity regarding length. i prefer shorter nowadays! those tasty, 1-3 para potato chip rps, so to speak c: + third person only, please +i do like long-term!  + romance and platonic is welcome! as far as romance goes, all gender identities and sexual identities are a-okay. i do admittedly have a preference for m// lately, so i will likely turn some other pairings down depending on what i am currently already writing! + i prefer writing middle-aged to older farts! they come in all shapes, sizes, colors, identities, and backgrounds! i wholeheartedly welcome the same! + i love ooc chatter! i'd prefer it if you did too, but it's absolutely okay if you're just interested in writing! it is not a dealbreaker + if you're not feeling it or if life happens, that's okay. you are free to either tell me you want a change, drop altogether, or even ghost me! i will do my best to communicate, but i am sorry in advance if i disappear without a word! i try to be pretty good at letting people know if i am not feeling it or if i am going on a break c: + yes, yes, i know i write like a goob - but i promise you that my posts will be crafted with love and care what do i like to write?  [cravings] + constantly changing! i have a couple of silly nuggets rolling around. mostly fluff with sprinkled angst. + post apocalypse slice of life is also great. with plenty of humor to spare. + anything with werewolves and their human beloved very concerned about the recent furniture chewing phase, and wow is frontline expensive for a 400lb beast. + want something depressing? how about something inspired by bioshock? impossibly beautiful underwater world with genetic manipulation, unhinged leaders, and missing children. + a silly, humorous story about a familiar and their witch + something a bit more rocky, but an old fashioned western physician falling for an outlaw/ sheriff/ rancher, etc. bonus points for post-apoc and western themed. please, i got the perfect ole grizzled doc for this c: [modern] + i love modern, but i am not really looking too intensely for it right now c: i am happy writing about firefighters and lawyers, scientists, military readjusting to civilian life, boring divorced dads who find lifelong love with other divorced dads, fluffy slice-of-life, etc. + military and coming back home! + leaving the city for a life on a farm! + leaving the farm for a life in the city! "y'all mean to tell me you don't know what noodling for catfish is?"

[(somewhat) historic] + btw, i am not a history buff - so be prepared for anachronisms galore! c: which might mean plumbing and dental care centuries before it was introduced. + noire crime! old grizzled detectives and their partners in crime trying to figure out these gosh dang murders. dang killers, bringing down everyone's vibes. + a detective moving to a podunk old town, with a ~mysterious past~. however, there isn't any mysterious past, the locals just humor the guy and i have a soft spot for the detective falling for the sheriff while constantly heckling him for assistance. + western! please, just... anything western. i love cowboys, ranches, train robberies, just... i will maybe propose if you let me indulge this. 

[fantasy & monsters] + i am also happy to write fantasy!  + fantasy can genuinely be blended into anything, into modern, sci-fi, post apocalyptic, etc. + i am also happy with pure, vanilla, cheesy fantasy - with kings, queens, beautiful warhorses and kingdoms by the sea, and conventionally attractive people with healthy teeth and... far less dysentery.  + i am happy to write sci-fi into fantasy - hunters/mercenaries with eyes that can hologram maps and prey, platinum horses made of gaskets and titanium joints who breathe steam, a kingdom in the sky, anything! + something all 'bout dat circus life! star crossed lovers tropes abound! + very, very old monsters who pester that one Highly Top Secret Government Agent ™ to let them see the spectral ghost of their mortal loved one from centuries ago. the ghosts of their in-laws also tag along. + good-natured, summoned demon spouses who just wish you'd get along with your in-laws who reside in a lovely three-bedroom villa style family home in hell. + i have a love for monsters trying to figure out this whole. human. thing. attempting to fit polo shirts for their office job over their curled horns, old werewolves trimming their nosehairs and their primary physician chiding at them for eating too much red meat, etc. there are so, so many possibilities + also dragons! [post-apocalyptic] + i've got spurs that jingle jangle jingle! post-apocalyptic in the wild, wild west sounds incredibly fun! + one innocent or guilty chump gets kicked out of a survivors organization, and their closest friend follows. then they both adventure into the great unknown of a hollow world. + zombie survival, maybe? [sci-fi] + space pilots, space pirates, space colonies, space travel, spaaaaace! + i don't have anything specific! typically, my sci-fi is blended in with other themes c: if you have anything, i'd love to hear it! [... guilty pleasures] + i love the cheesy and humorous things to temper the chaos. love, love, love writing that domestic, usually peaceful, sweet life of two happy people who have been together for ages or just met in their golden years after struggle and just... working for their happy endings. + though i am not usually interested in cheesy, obnoxious tropes... i have a soft spot for two grumpy, gruff guys falling for each other c: [miscellaneous]

+ this is hardly an exhaustive list of ideas or themes that interest me! if you have something in mind that you do not see, or anything at all, please do let me know! i love brainstorming and hearing ideas c: + note: i love writing with pretty boy archetypes!! but i am inundated with them at the moment in my current threads, bring me yer more grizzled and rough and tough boys! the two characters i have in mind are too old and boring to keep up with pretty, lithe youngins! what characters do i have in mind? plenty! craving two in particular, but i have plenty more in mind if the following two don't catch your interest: + one is svelte, aloof, posh, thoughtful. the very characterization of something like... a sleek, abyssinian cat playing the cello. intriguing, a little odd, an intimidating, coded villain - but really, just socially awkward, and a sweetheart. + the other is beefy, grumpy, and also... a goof at the core. the archetype of an ornery grandpa with the warmest heart and a distinguished grey streak in his hair. both are middle-aged men and adaptable to anything from old-fashioned fantasy, to modern, to sci-fi, to fantasy-modern hybrids, to post apocalyptic. they can be rogues, kings, survivors, lawyers, detectives, chefs, scientists, neighbors, loyal right-hands, anything from protectors and anchors to the village/office boob.  i am preferring to write the former gentleman, but i am up to write either, or someone completely different! i am also happy to elaborate upon contact if you are interested! fortunately, each one is more complex than several adjectives and a stereotypical archetype. i'd also love to hear the characters you have in mind! are you interested? well, neat-o! i can be reached at discord on howdy^3#6518, i look forward to hearing from you!

[shelikesthosefunnypeople]

Pls explain more abt the ancient history thing b I’m very interested

Hello anon!

I know this was sent in months ago and I should have replied to it then but I’m a master procrastinator and life has been strange (before coronavirus kicked off I was in the middle of preparing for exams). Anyway, I’m happy to answer this.

I made a post in the distant past, basically saying that I think there is a view that history before 1800 is somehow less intellectual and that this is rooted in sexism. That post is here. Allow me to explain and please bare in mind that this is all just my opinion and is based off my experiences.

Apologies for the length.

Firstly, I love history. I’m a complete geek for it. I think it’s important, interesting and with a bit of luck I’ll be studying it at university soon. Therefore, this isn’t a post where I try to claim that actually history before 1800 is superior... because that’s just dumb. History is history and while historians can have personal preferences over which period they find most interesting, that doesn’t make that period “better” than any others. Literally. I mean, everything leading up to the present day didn’t happen in isolated, distinct boxes and all of it is useful to understanding how modern society has developed.

It makes sense that there is a general interest in “modern history”. After all, it is interesting and we have more information about it thanks to technological developments. The 20th century was a time of massive change if you compare 1900 to 2000 - although, I’m sure it’s easy for us to see the difference, seeing as the 20th century wasn’t so long ago in the grand scheme of things and many people who are alive today lived through a part of it. I’m sure people living in the early part of any century probably thought (if they had access to history) that the start and end of the previous century were hugely different. Nevertheless, I agree that the 20th century is quite profound in this respect, at least at the moment. In 100 years, who knows?

The 19th century also offers us a lot more remnants than its predecessors and I think culturally is still viewed as important. Some people have a rose tinted view of the 19th century. In Britain, I’d say it is seen by those of a certain political persuasion (check out Tory MP Jacob Rees-Mogg) as a time of peak Britishness(TM) and nationalistic pride... although that narrative is simplistic and disregards the suffering of the colonies and indeed the working classes of Britain, who had to prop up all this “greatness”. Anyway, I’m sure if you found a stuffy 19th century bloke, he would tell you how his society’s morality has gone to complete shambles and that he yearns for a bygone era that only really exists in his mind. I guess that’s just what some people always do. Conservatives, eh?

I’ll actually get to the point now.

At my college, there were two history courses available: modern (involving subjects such as the Russian Revolution and Britain from about 1950-2007) and pre-modern (involving subjects such as the crusades and the English Reformation). I took the latter course and was in a class of 18, where there were 13 girls and 5 boys. Generally, the modern history classes were weighted in the opposite way, which simply suggests that at my particular college with my particular year group, boys had a preference for modern history and girls for pre-modern. I would argue that this preference appears to be more widespread in general, but that’s not definite.

The fact that this difference existed is not the problem. The problem is what people perceived this difference to mean.

I was told by a boy (not a nice boy, so not a representation of everyone) who was studying history that the course I was taking was “the gay version”. That, of course, is a puerile insult for 2020 and highlights his maturity level - all history is very, very gay and if you take issue with that then I don’t know what to tell you. Get your head out of your arse, maybe? But anyway... why did he feel superior about studying a different bit of history?

It wasn’t just him. A (male) teacher once told me that the history course I had chosen wasn’t as useful as the other one and that the only use it had was that I could apply transferable essay writing skills to my other subjects. Which was bollocks, might I add. Unsurprisingly, he wasn’t a history teacher.

So, where were these views coming from? Why was the English Reformation - which was basically 16th century Brexit - seen as lesser than the Russian Revolution? The obvious argument one could make is that events that have happened more recently are more important and have more of an impact today. However, without the events of the years before them, would these events have happened either? Does the Church of England not still exist? Do we not have a statue of Richard the Lionheart in Westminster (because we like giving statues to tossers, apparently)?

In my opinion, the answer to this odd hierarchy of time periods lies in gender socialisation and the propensity of people to view history in the same way they view fiction. We know that the traditional male/female gender socialisation patterns are different: boys are socialised to be “tough”, “leaders”, “aggressive” etc. whilst girls are socialised to be “submissive”, “friendly”, “polite” etc. This is hopefully changing now but inbuilt, subconscious biases about the genders and what quantifies masculinity and femininity are still around. There is the stereotype of boys being interested in war due to the toys they were given to play with. Surprise, surprise - warfare in the 20th century alone was vastly different to anything that had come before it and, as I said, due to technology we have more archived about it. I’m not suggesting that only boys are interested in historical war - again, that’s a stereotype. Anyone can be interested in war, 20th century or otherwise. Despite this, I’m not going to pretend there still aren’t those guys who get waaaay into warfare and that their interest and knowledge in history is largely confined to that subject.

And that’s fine! You know, as long as you don’t start worshipping Hitler or anything equally creepy. People aren’t experts on every little bit of history and are allowed to have stereotypical interests.

Yet, that still doesn’t explain completely why “modern history” is viewed as more intellectual, just because maybe it appeals slightly more to men (apart from the obvious that anything men like is viewed as superior in some way).

As historical societies are notably different to our own - especially on the surface - and because there is so much historical fiction that seeks to romanticise it, it is not massively surprising that many people do see history as an extension to fiction. It’s gone, we live in the now, lots of people don’t even believe history matters. The fantasy genre has a habit of adopting historical (often medieval) settings for its tales. It’s an obvious example but Game of Thrones was a retelling of the Wars of the Roses, amongst other things. I think when fantasy is applied to history it makes it seem even less real than it may already and this can lead to it being taken less seriously (though please do watch Horrible Histories or Blackadder and take the piss out of all time periods because humans of every age have been fallible). Of course, it is far easier to romanticise and play around with times that are further from our own because they are further detached and therefore more fantastical. This plays into post-1800 being seen as more “real” and “intellectual”.

Some men who wish to keep women out of the historical circle accuse them of only being interested in history because of “romance” or “fancy dresses” - princesses and knights and fairytales. This is more a low down problem with internet trolls than actual, published historians but the issue still stands. If you view “pre-modern” history through this veil of fiction then it must seem rather childish compared to the stark brutality of the World Wars and the political rise of the New Right in the West. However, conversely, it could also be argued that the nationalism and legend attached to recent warfare makes it equally comparable to a story. Not a happy story but then, Game of Thrones isn’t a happy story either.

I don’t think anyone serious about history actually believes that the romantic, fantastical elements attached to any historical periods are 100% true. Hopefully, most people don’t see them as proof that being interested in a certain period makes you better than someone who is interested in another period. Any period can be romanticised, including the “modern” one - Titanic, anyone? Not to mention the frilly view we have of the Victorians (although that’s not silly because of the Britishness(TM), remember). Actually, using history in fiction and even making fiction about history isn’t even a bad thing and I certainly encourage it. I just think that the truth shouldn’t be conveniently forgotten by those with weird superiority complexes who think that because The Tudors was all about love trysts and fine clothing, the entire period is “girly” and a write off.

What am I saying amongst this rambling mess? The next time you see a girl going through her Ancient Egypt phase, don’t roll your eyes. Not if you wouldn’t do the same when you see a boy with an interest in WW2 tanks. Whichever way people come to their interest in the past is valid (apart from the creepy fascist worshipping I mentioned). A lot of things in our world are gendered when they shouldn’t be; history should be equally open to all and although there is a focus on the past 200 years (just look at the uni modules on offer), that doesn’t mean that if you are interested in the years before, your interest isn’t valid enough.

I hope I’ve managed to explain myself properly and have gotten through how gender plays into this sufficiently. I know this is a very niche thing to have an opinion on and I’d like to stress again that this is just my opinion and you are free to disagree with me. That said, if you send me hate then don’t expect a proper response.

Thanks for the ask!

[somethingusefulfromflorida]

What if Star Wars had tanked?

May 1977, 20th Century Fox distributes a really WEIRD movie.  It’s a science fiction fantasy story about medieval knight samurais in space with laser swords and fighter pilots.  Nobody expected it to be a hit, it seemed to be such a niche movie, one that would garner a small cult following then be swept under the rug by the other summer tent poles like “Smokey and the Bandit” or “The Spy Who Loved Me.”  To everyone’s surprise, it became an instant success, rocketing no name George Lucas from a no-name bush-league indie director into the echelon of A-list Blockbusters.  His idea for a decade spanning six part saga (two sequels, three prequels) was greenlit then and there, and the budget for Star Wars 2, now called Star Wars 5, was double what he was given for the original.  Star Wars 1, nor 4, was given the subtitle “A New Hope” to let audiences know it was just the beginning of a series, and the rest is history.

But in 1977, George Lucas was not as confident in his vision as he would soon become.  He figured, as every producer did, that his film would be a flash in the pan genre piece, something that would play in theaters just long enough to make it’s budget back, then disappear into obscurity.  In 1976, he planned for the worst.

Star Wars, like many other films of the day, was being given a novelization.  Before home media became ubiquitous, the only way people could experience the film was to see it in theaters or buy the book version.  Lucas hired a ghostwriter, Alan Dean Foster, to write the novelization of Star Wars 1, AND to create a tentative Star Wars 2 that could be adapted to the screen if the original film failed to meet his high expectations.  Star Wars 2, titled “Splinter of the Minds Eye,” was written to be as low budget as possible; no big set pieces, and for that matter no big sets.  Every scene had to take place in a set that the studio already owned, and couldn’t include any major space battles because there was no guarantee that the special effects would fit into the budget.  On top of that, it meant that none of the characters played by big name actors would be included; no Harrison Ford, no Alec Guinness.  Splinter was a bare bones story set entirely on what would essentially become Dagobah, and would have taken the franchise in an entirely different direction.  None of the story elements from Lucas’ dream sequel were included, and none of the plot twists either; there is no connection between “Splinter of the Mind’s Eye” and “Empire Strikes Back,” and in fact, once Empire was released, Splinter was relegated to secondary canon because the official sequel had overidden it so the story no longer made sense.

But if Star Wars 1 had flopped, Splinter of the Mind’s Eye would have been made into the official sequel, and the story would have had to pick up where it left off; Lucas didn’t plot out a low budget version of Star Wars 3, so we can only speculate as to what may have happened.

In Splinter, Luke and Leia are going on a diplomatic mission to convince some neutral star systems to join the rebellion.  Their ship crash lands on a backwater swamp planet (called Mimban, a name eventually used for the World War I trench planet in the Disney movie Solo), which is roughly analogous to the Dagobah we saw in Empire.  Stranded on the swamp planet, Luke and Leia find their way to an imperial mining colony, get into a scuffle, and escape with the help of a Jedi witch named Halla.  The titular “splinter of the mind’s eye” is a broken fragment of a magical crystal, because this was the 1970s and crystals were a big thing in fantasy (the splinter was called the kaiburr crystal; this name would later be re-purposed in canon as the crystals used for lightsaber and Death Star laser construction).  The splinter is said to focus the force, allowing the wielder to become more powerful or something; it’s a MacGuffin, the book is vague as to what it actually physically does.  After a confrontation with locals, and a duel with none other than Darth Vader (in which Leia wields a lightsaber and Luke cuts off Vader’s whole arm), Halla takes over the role of Luke’s mentor to train him in the ways of the Force.

At this point in the series, Luke and Leia were never intended to be brother and sister.  It was clearly supposed to be a chivalric romance between a knight errant and his courtly love.  He is the royal bodyguard to the Queen of Alderaan (the entire Royal Family was destroyed in Star Wars 1, so Princess Leia should by all rights have been coronated as Queen Leia).  George Lucas added the twist that they were brother and sister well into production of Empire; in fact, in Empire he shot two scenes of Leia kissing Luke (one was to make Han jealous, the other was near the end, right after she rescued Luke from cloud city; I’m glad they cut the second one, because it undermines the fact that she literally just told Han that she loves him).  Han Solo himself is mentioned in passing, not even by name, just as some pirate Luke used to know who took his reward money from the first movie and went to pay off some debts.  If this movie had been made instead of Empire, there’s no guarantee that a Star Wars 3 would even be greenlit.

But if it had been, here’s what would have happened.

Darth Vader is not Luke’s father in this version; that too was a twist Lucas invented after the series took off.  So, in this version of Star wars 3, which I will call “Revenge of the Jedi,” Luke goes on a quest to slay the evil Emperor.  It’s a fantasy movie, in any other setting the point of the franchise would be to kill the main bad guy; imagine if Lord of the Rings had ended without the heroes destroying the ring and defeating Sauron, that would have made no sense.  In this version of the story, Darth Vader is just the archetypal Black Knight; tying back into the Japanese influence on the series, he is an evil Shogun, appointed by the Emperor to be the military dictator.  There would be more emphasis on fight choreography in this version, drawing influence from the works of Akira Kurosawa.  The word Jedi comes from the word for the Japanese film genre Jidaigeki, meaning ‘period piece,’ featuring samuri and ronin (for western audiences, “Ronin” are nomadic heroes, like Clint Eastwood’s man with no name, or the Road Warrior).

Revenge of the Jedi would end with a climactic fight scene in the Emperor’s palace, with Luke battling his way through the many levels, defeating wave after wave of imperial soldiers and those red guards fans love to care about even though they do literally nothing on screen.  The prequels we got in canon were bogged down with boring politics about trade federations and unions and guilds and alliances, but politics can be interesting if done well (and written by someone who isn’t George Lucas; the original trilogy we got was good DESPITE him, not BECAUSE of him).  Revenge of the Jedi would see Leia building an army, the rebellion becoming an actual superpower in the galaxy; the New Republic wouldn’t just be restored after the Empire was defeated, it would be restored during the war with the express intent of rallying neutral systems behind an actual government body against the Emperor.

Darth Vader betrayed and murdered Luke’s father, but more importantly he committed genocide against Leia’s people, the survivors of which now live in diaspora.  Sound familiar?  “The Rebellion” isn’t a great name, but “the Alliance” is perfect because it evokes the Allies of World War II and shows that it is a galaxy-wide phenomena, not just a single splinter cell as depicted in the films in our timeline.  Luke wants to avenge his father, but if you’re insistent that the good guy isn’t allowed to kill the bad guy, you could have Vader go out the way he did in “Return of the Jedi,” turning back to the light side and sacrificing his life to kill the Emperor.  Everyone loves a redemption story, but Darth Vader really was a piece of shit and didn’t deserve to just get a free pass into Jedi Ghost Heaven because he decided to stop being evil five minutes before he died.

Maybe in this version of Star Wars 3, Harrison Ford returns for a cameo as a favor to George Lucas.  If so, he dies; Ford wanted Han to die in “Return of the Jedi,” and only agreed to do “The Force Awakens” if they finally killed him off then.  If he returns for “Star Wars 3: Revenge of the Jedi,” he will sacrifice himself for the Alliance, going out as a hero.  After the Emperor is defeated, the threat doesn’t just go away; suddenly there’s a power vacuum, with all the admirals and regional governor’s vying to replace him.  In both pre- and post-Disney Star Wars, the Emperor had a son (Triclops in Legends continuity, and Rey’s dad in Canon), so he would be heir to his father’s throne; perhaps he is propped up as a puppet for the military leaders, or maybe he surrenders to the Alliance and allows his Empire to be balkanized into dozens of independent powers, as with the fall of every great Empire; Rome (East and West), Mongolia, China, Austria-Hungary, Britain, the USSR, the list goes on.

This Star Wars trilogy would not be the enormous franchise we know today, it would still be a very niche series with a cult following.  It would be a step up from the Planet of the Apes series; sure, people have heard of it, and there have been attempts to revive it in the modern day, but it’s not even close to being a tent pole of the modern cultural zeitgeist.  Nobody looks forward to the new Planet of the Apes movie every year, it’s not a multi-billion dollar multi-media enterprise, there’s no dedicated “Planet of the Apes Celebration,” no cartoons, no streaming service shows that everyone geeks out about online, no triple-a video games, nothing.  This version of Star Wars would be just another weird artifact of the 1970s.  Maybe there would be a push to release a sequel, Star Wars 4, in like 2007, but that would be closer to Rambo IV or Superman Returns or Tron Legacy.

There are dedicated fans, but it’s not the biggest movie of the year.

Star Wars (1977)

Star Wars 2: Splinter of the Mind’s Eye (1979)

Star Wars 3: Revenge of the Jedi (1982)

Star Wars: Journal of the Whills (2011, a prequel set during the Clone Wars mentioned in the first movie)

[ayearofpike]

Spooksville #20: The Dangerous Quest

Pocket Books, 1998 117 pages, 13 chapters ISBN 0-671-00268-6 LOC: not listed OCLC: 38115173 Released January 1, 1998 (per B&N)

Watch loves fantasy novels, but in Spooksville anything can become reality. His interest in one in particular has drawn a wizard to him, who has then placed a curse that is making him rapidly sicken. The only clues are the book and the Secret Path, and so the Spook Squad splits up to find a cure to Watch’s illness before it’s too late. But when they find almost identical other-dimension selves at the other end, we have to wonder if it’s ... TWO late?

Me and my big mouth. As soon as I knock on Night of the Vampire for being simple and straight-forward, we get this monstrosity (literally; it’s the longest one in a while). Magic, alternate dimensions, shapeshifting, multiple selves, and (not to scare anyone off too quickly) time travel all in one book. Let’s dig in.

Nobody knows Watch is sick until he suddenly collapses in the donut shop. He tells the story of trying to resell a book in the local bookstore the previous day when someone comes in looking for it. He invited Watch to discuss it over coffee, but before they even started talking about the story this weirdo touched Watch’s forehead with a green stone. He got dizzy long enough to not notice the guy leaving, but managed to follow him to Madeline Templeton’s tombstone. And it’s been getting worse ever since.

How long do the kids have? Probably not much. They agree to split up: Adam and Sally will retrace the Secret Path and try to find this obviously evil wizard, and Bryce and Cindy will work on finding the book and seeing what kind of connection there might be. This means starting at the bookstore, because Watch is pretty sure the dude never actually bought the book. They have to deal with the creepy bookseller, Mr. Carver, who evidently Bryce has a deal with about being allowed to keep his knives as long as he doesn’t use them on anything living? Squick. But he did sell the book after all, and gives them the name and address of the dude who bought it.

When they get to his house, though, he’s not interested in sharing the book, even after they tell him about the creepy guy who cursed their friend. He does want to see the portal that the dude jumped through, so they agree that Cindy will take him to the cemetery while Bryce runs an errand with his aunt, wink wink. Obviously the guy knows what’s up, because he takes Cindy hostage as soon as they’re at the cemetery and marches her back to his house, where Bryce is just at the door with the book under his arm. There’s a standoff — Bryce has a lighter to the book, Creepo is holding Cindy by the neck — but they agree that if Bryce gives up the book, Creepo will tell them what’s in it. Of course he doesn’t; instead he grabs both kids and chucks them in the basement. What he DOESN’T know is that Bryce has already been there and gone and back — he was RETURNING the book, after having made a photocopy of it. So he and Cindy settle down to read it.

Before I get to that, let me go back to the portal kids. They emerge in a land that is completely green, or maybe it just looks that way because the sun is green. They’re not there long before another Adam and Sally appear. Apparently they’re from a parallel dimension to our heroes, but their Watch is so sick that he couldn’t drag himself through the Secret Path. (Our Watch, of course, insisted.) They see a castle in the distance and decide there’s no better option than to try to walk to it.

(This is not too far out of line. Pike even acknowledges the Emerald City/yellow brick road trope in the text.)

But before they get too far, an armored warrior princess leaps out from the trees and demands to know who these trespassers are. They tell her the story of identical green-stone illnesses, and she concedes that the castle is the only place where they might find a cure, but there’s no way they can walk it. Instead, they’re going to have to ride pterodactyls. Well, the warrior doesn’t call them that, but that’s what they are. But they aren’t tame, of course; the gang will have to jump from above and surprise them. After a sticky moment where the Sallys miss their mount and the warrior has to save them, they get on board and manage to fly to the castle in no time.

Inside is the dude who cursed Watch. He’s like, dude, there’s nothing I can do, and Watch is all duh, I know that, I already read the story. Um, what? It turns out that the book was about a warrior princess who liked to go out hunting, only she accidentally killed a powerful witch in the guise of a boar and so his daughter cursed her with a fatal illness. The prince, her love, insisted that the young witch release the curse, but the only method to do so was to transfer it. But because the princess was royalty, it would require two brave and wise and good souls to take on the burden. Watch knew as soon as she appeared, of course, that the story was true, but he didn’t tell because he didn’t want anyone else to suffer. It’s true that our warrior princess is suddenly healed from an illness, but she is pretty pissed that the two Watches didn’t know they were taking on her curse. So they go to find the witch to see what she can do — and if it means the warrior takes back ownership of the curse, then so be it.

So they go to the dungeon, where the witch is locked up, and they demand she do something. She’s like, idiots, I already told you what needed to be done, and there’s not a whole lot you can do to change it. But suddenly the prince gets a shiver, like part of him just died. And it did! The dude back in Spooksville who was guarding the book is a kind of shadow-double of the prince, and he’s realized that it should have been him taking on the curse the whole time instead of trying to find some children who could sympathize with it. So he burns the book and dies with it, which makes the real prince realize it too. But before the witch can transfer the spell over, Watch speaks up. He wants to know if he’s worth enough that the other Watch doesn’t have to die. And this act of valor confirms it, and so when he closes his eyes and stops breathing, it’s the end of the curse.

No, seriously. Watch is dead.

They take his body back to Spooksville and bury it in the cemetery next to Madeline Templeton’s grave. Like, what else could they do? Watch had no family, probably not much money, and his only friends were this group of twelve-year-olds. Ann Templeton and Bum are there too, lots of tears, lots of mourning.

Until Watch walks into the cemetery.

Remember the time robot that sent the kids back to Colonial Spooksville and made a huge mess out of everything in the timeline? No, of course you don’t, and neither does anybody else: Watch made it so that they never found the robot in the first place. But he never went all the way away, either. He’s been paying attention to the gang’s activities, and when it transpired that he died, it made sense that maybe he could be alive again.

I don’t know, though. Things will never be the same, because the new Watch doesn’t have the experiences of the last month or so, and the others aren’t likely to forget fucking BURYING HIM any time soon. Still, I imagine that this is going to go away faster than even I expect. Much like my hopes of finally figuring out what the kid’s deal is and why his parents abandoned him in this burg.

[voyages-extraordinaires]

C:R ~VE~ Chapter 34

The sun has just started to make its debut when we hit land. Barbicane quickly ties our little boat to one of the piers before hopping onto the dock and dramatically offering Cardia a hand.

“Didn’t I tell you this baby would get us here? Honestly, you ladies worry too much!”

Cardia and I exchange glances before looking over at Nemo.

Nemo is still dripping miserably. He took a nasty stumble into the sea while trying to get the stalled motor of Impey’s “baby” running again...

It makes him look super-pathetic when he offers Barbicane a confident grin and a thumbs up.

These boys, I swear...

“Come on,” I say as I use Barbicane to hoist myself out of the boat before helping Cardia up myself. “Nemo, you too.”

Nemo’s boots squish as he climbs out of the boat. With a dramatic sigh he flops down and pulls one off, emptying a steady stream of water back into the sea.

“It looks like we landed in a fishing village,” says Cardia. I follow her gaze to see men preparing their boats for the day.

“Hey, maybe I can talk to some of them to get some lodgings around here,” says Barbicane. “I’ll be back!”

“Um, Barbicane...” I watch his retreating back as he bounds off. With a sigh I look over at Cardia. “How much Spanish does he know?”

“I don’t think he knows any...” says Cardia.

“My Spanish is rudimentary, at best,” I say. “We might have a problem.”

“I’d be surprised if they spoke Spanish,” says Nemo. He swings his boots over his shoulder. “... It will take a generation or two for the colonizer’s language to seep in.”

“Nemo...”

My expeditions have taken me many places, but... most of them were colonies of one power or another.

I’m ashamed to admit that I hadn’t given it much thought until I met him. How many people have lost their identities in the name of ‘progress’...? In the name of ‘civilization’?

I decide to distract myself from the knot forming in my stomach by watching Barbicane flail in his attempts to establish contact.

Finally, I shake my head. “Think they know Latin?”

Nemo cracks his neck and hands me his boots. “Hoooold these. And that thought. Also this.”

“Huh? Ack!” I shiver as he drops his soaked coat over my shoulders and walks towards Barbicane. When I had fantasized about wearing his coat, it hadn’t been anything like this. Even the lavender smells damp!

My cheeks flush, and with my luck it’s from pneumonia beginning to settle in. I accept my fate and decide to huddle in his coat anyway. It’s not like he’s around to laugh at me.

I’m not surprised when I can hear Nemo speaking (yelling) with the men all the way across the beach. I’m also not surprised when he begins speaking in French, since that’s the language we usually use when we’re alone.

However, when that proves ineffective, the languages fire like bullets: English, German, Spanish, Latin, and then into languages I don’t understand-- all of them with elongated vowels and a bombastic accent, of course.

With each language that Nemo tries, Barbicane’s jaw falls farther and farther and the fishermen shrink farther and farther away.

Was that a Chinese dialect? I think that might have been Russian. I’m only mildly surprised when he resorts to Hindi. Finally, when Nemo begins speaking in Arabic, the fishermen nod.

And that’s when the showtime really begins. Now that he knows they can understand them, Nemo leaps into all the posing and drama that he had been storing inside of him.

... Most of the men begin slinking away.

“Wait!” Cardia runs towards the others, waving. The men stop in their tracks and stare. I can’t say I blame them, she’s quite the vision with her hair shining in the rising sun.

I’m rather grateful that Cardia’s beauty distracts them from noticing me hobbling after her.

Cardia gestures towards Nemo before holding out her hand and offering the fishermen something.

We don’t have any of their coin, but precious metals are universal and that’s what Cyrene Smith had given us for bartering.

Well, bribery seems to provide an effective balm for dealing with Nemo’s theatrics, and soon one of the fishermen gestures for us to follow.

Eventually we reach a group of cabins near the other end of the beach. It looks a little upscale compared to the other buildings, and I can only assume that these cabins are usually rented out by richer visitors and explorers. The countries of South America have been in vogue since Charles Darwin’s travels, and it looks like this place is profiting off it quite nicely.

The fisherman says his farewell to us in perfect Spanish before departing, leaving Nemo scowling after him.

“Well, all’s well that ends well, right?” Barbicane says with a shrug. “Let’s get some cabins and plot our next move.”

I look at Cardia. Though it’s true that she and Barbicane had declared their love for one another, the two of them sharing a cabin might be a bit much for Cardia at this point.

“We can share a cabin if you’d like,” I say.

“WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-----T?!?!”

I’m fairly certain that Nemo’s anguished cry registered as an earthquake.

“B-But Polly-chaaaaaaaaan...!!” Nemo continues whining. “I had so many fuuuuuuun things planned! We were finally going to consummate our looooooove under a blanket of stars---!!!”

Cardia blanches, and Barbicane quickly puts his hands over her ears. “Oy, Nemo, what the hell?! I never want to hear you say the wod ‘consummate’ ever again! I’m having enough nightmares as it is...”

I look around nervously, wondering if there’s a hole I can crawl into.

Cardia reaches up and takes Barbicane’s hands off of her ears, shaking her head. “I’ll be fine, I trust Impey. Besides, I still remember what Van taught me.”

Barbicane and Nemo jump back as she suddenly launches one of her legs upward in a debilitating kick.

“H-Have mercy on me, my angel...” Barbicane weakly stammers.

“Suddenly I’m veeeeeeery grateful that you were so cooperative back at Twilight Headquarters............” Nemo shuffles behind Barbicane and peers around him nervously.

Cardia beams up at the both of them with a look far too angelic for the move she just used.

Nemo’s yelling woke the innkeepers, so we were able to procure two cabins without further delay. At Barbicane’s request, however, our cabins are on either side of the resort. This request confused Nemo greatly, and he’s dragging his feet sullenly as the innkeeper leads us to our cabin far, far away from the others.

It looks cozy, even the peeling white paint somehow looks rustic. At the steps the sandy soil begins to give way to blades of grass, and I can’t wait to take off my boots to walk around.

“I’m really glad Cardia said she would go to the beach with me. I know we’ve spent so much time around them, but this is a completely different continent! Just imagine all the things we can find!"

I lift my arms up and stretch, enjoying the warm sun shining down on me.

“I hope I brought enough journals with me, I’d really like to...” I turn and look at Nemo.

He’s quietly staring at me, jaw slack and cheeks flushed as though he had just noticed something.

I look around before glancing back at him. “What’s wrong?”

He slouches even further, his surprised expression melting into a dopey smile.

“Nooooothing, really... I was just thiiiiiiiiiinking about how good it looks on you...”

“Huh? How good it...? Oh!” I look down, remembering that his jacket was still over my shoulders. “Oh, I-- I must have forgotten... geez...”

I begin to take it off, but he puts his hands on my shoulders to stop me.

“Hmmm, just for a liiiiittle while longer, okay? My style looks... really good on you...”

He moves his hands up to cup my cheeks.

“Really... really........”

His mumurs are only silenced when our lips meet.

Without his jacket on, it’s easier for me to appreciate his slim waist as I wrap my arms around him. It’s not enough, though, and I quickly fumble with my gloves. When I finally reach a hand under his sweater, I shudder in delight at the heat radiating off of his skin.

I lean my forehead against his and grin. “You understand now, right? Why our cabin is so far away from the rest? We have some time before I’m supposed to meet Cardia... can’t we have just a quick partnership before then...?”

“I was trying to wait until tonight...” Nemo presses his lips to my cheek. “But, since you’re insiiiiiiiiiiiisting... who am I to deny you the spectacle of my loooooove?!”

I give an excited shriek when he suddenly picks me up, and I pepper him with kisses wherever my mouth can reach.

However, when he gets to the stairs of the cabin, he wobbles and he mutters a low curse.

“Let’s... let’s try that again...”

He sets me down and lopes up the stairs before offering his hand to me.

I shake my head and take it, laughing as we stumble into the cabin, barely making it to the bed.

-----

“There’s... only one one of them...” Cardia stares down at the large bed taking up most of the space in the room.

“Yeah, looks that way, doesn’t it...” Impey gives a sigh. “Man, and I was looking forward to plump pillows and clean sheets...”

Cardia looks at him and tilts her head.

“H-Hey, I might look like the kind of guy who would take advantage of this, but I’m not going to be a creep to my girlfriend. When we finally share a bed, I want you to open your arms to me and say, 'Impey, my darling! Keep me warm tonight!' I’m getting pumped just thinking about it!”

He grins, caught up in his fantasy. “Yeah, but until that time I’ll just sleep on the floor, okay?”

“.... I wouldn’t mind sharing it,” says Cardia.

“W-Wha... my angel...” Impey puts a hand to his chest. “So forward...! Okay, I’ll work hard to meet your expectations! I’ll meet every passionate moment, Cardia-chan--!”

He moves to embrace her, but Cardia holds her hands up and shakes her head. Impey comes skidding to a stop.

“I just meant sharing it. You’ve worked really hard and we weren’t able to sleep well on the Harper. But I really... really just mean sleeping, Impey.”

Impey looks at her, and at the pretty blush crossing her cheeks. His eager grin turns into a soft smile as he takes a step back.

“Then, I’ll work hard to meet your expectations as the best body warmer boyfriend ever!” Impey flashes a smile and points to himself. “You won’t have to worry about a thing, Cardia-chan! I’ll keep to my side of the bed and make sure you don’t get any cold toes! You’ll have the best night’s sleep ever!”

Cardia laughs. “Not for many hours! I’m going to be going to the beach with Pauline... what do you think you’ll be doing?”

“Might join you, if you don’t mind. I bet you girls will look really cute in your bathing suits!”

“Nnnnnnnnnnnnot so fast!”

Nemo strides in through the door. He’s clearly already gone shopping, as instead of his soggy gear he’s dressed in a cotton shirt and trousers with an elaborate pink and purple scarf draped over his shoulders. Somehow, even in this unfamiliar place, he manages to make his style as eccentric as ever.

“Impey Barbicaaaaaaaaaaaane... I need your assistance procuring supplies. The beach will still be there when we’re doooone...”

“Supplies?!” Impey shakes his head. “We packed enough for the round trip! The beach might still be there, but you’re going to make me miss seeing my sun-kissed princess?!”

Nemo frowns deeply, his lips drawn thin. “It’s very.... veeeeeeeery important!”

“More important than Cardia-chan in... huh?” Impey looks out the door of the cabin as his voice trails off.

-----

I feel a little sheepish when Barbicane stares at me. Nemo had insisted that it would look good on me, but...

On my previous expeditions, even when I was oceanside, I’d continue to wear heavy-duty clothing-- just in case. But somehow Nemo had convinced me to wear a proper bathing suit.

It’s a high-waisted one piece with two vertical rows of bronze buttons trailing down the front. It’s mostly navy with white trim to evoke a nautical feeling. As Barbicane continues to stare, I'm suddenly grateful for the sheer wrap I have tied around my waist.

I couldn’t stop smiling when I saw this suit in the market, I told Nemo that if I were a braver woman I’d love to wear something like it.

He bought it for me immediately. I don’t think we have it in our budget, but... in the end it’s really Aleister that paid for it all. Plus, Nemo looked so happy when he gave it to me, smiling adoringly.

“Somedaaaaay...” he said. “I’ll design a really, reeeeally cute uniform for you when you fly with me. Consider this practice until then, hmm?”

Being able to casually explore this seaside town with him, not having to worry about soldiers or anything... it was really nice. I hope that the two of us will be able to have many, many more days like this.

“It’s okay, Impey,” says Cardia. “Maybe we can all go swimming when you’re done.”

“Count on it,” Barbicane nods. “I’m not letting a second paradise slip through my fingers! We worked so hard on Lincoln Island, I’ve gotta relax a bit! You know, enjoy the sunshine, swim a bit, admire the pretty ladies, tinker in the setting sun...”

“Does tinkering really count as relaxing?” I ask.

“Yes,” Nemo and Barbicane speak unanimously.

[terranoctis]

epic ii

As usual, there are spoilers for stories I’ve read below. You’ve been warned. Seemed fitting to finally finish up my writeup on the stories I read after the long day January 6th has been, and honestly rather fitting that the first novel I read this year was one about tolerance and diversity in an urban fantasy.

1. The Bear and the Nightingale by Katherine Arden

I confess to being somewhat limited in my awareness of Russian folklore, but from what I do know from having read other books, I would say this novel is perhaps one of the best I’ve read in that vein. Arden writes fantastically in the way she weaves fairytale and folklore together to present a medieval Russian society that has magic and spirits. It’s a novel that reads much like an old folklore story while still having intriguing characters that drive the novel. Vasya is a strong and determined protagonist, and the way her interactions are written with the various spirits around her home, as well as the human characters are complex in ways that continued to surprise me throughout the book. It’s not an overly complex plot, but the charm of the novel lies in how it reads as a fairytale and is told beautifully in that same kind of folklore vein. I’m also struggling now to think if I’ve ever read a fantasy novel that has depicted snow as wonderfully as this novel, because I can’t recall a different one. It’s a novel that made me love curling up in bed, under my blankets, while I was exploring the Russian woods with Vasya. It felt like a fitting novel in the wake of the holidays in December (which is when I read it). I do think the ending could’ve been stronger, in terms of how the main conflict was resolved, but I also believe that it set up future stories. I’m excited to see how the rest of the trilogy plays out because I thoroughly enjoyed this one. I ended up staying up to finish this one because I wanted to keep reading.

2. Down Among the Sticks and Bones by Seanan McGuire

I love the general concept of The Wayward Children as a series, and I find that the concept of different worlds these children get lost in cements its foothold further with the twins Jack and Jill, moreso than in the previous novel. It’s not the longest read, but one that casts the magical aspects of world-traveling in a more somber light. The thing that surprised me more was that I felt this was less a tale of the horrors of the world Jack and Jill walked into than how it was a commentary about the monsters we become because of our upbringings. We learned from the first book in the series that Jill is a murderer, and this novel really cements how and why she becomes one, in all the confused nature of a child who wants affection. We see the way the neglect and the controlling nature of their parents drive the twins to act in certain ways that are out of the norm or are cruel. We see the way their natures are nurtured or twisted further based on the upbringings they receive in the moors; one receives mentoring and kindness, while the other receives twisted affections based only on loyalty. The story is presented as a gothic fairytale, and is wonderfully crafted, though it lends itself towards a type of cautionary tale. It feels somewhat incomplete, as we don’t get to see them returning to the world, but as a stand-alone tale of their loss of innocence... or rather, never being able to live through innocence because of their parents, it’s a strong read. I would dare say it’s a better read than the first because it allowed us to focus on a smaller cast of characters and the setting of the Moors with vampires and doctors who could bring people back to life was rather intriguing.

3. The Burning God by R.F. Kuang

Finally, the last novel to what has been one of my favorite series these last few years has been finished. It’s been rather rare for me to read fantasy novels written nowadays that write of the strains of militaristic war in both a brutal and tender manner, but R.F. Kuang has that down to a T. This may be because R.F. Kuang has done her research and study very much into the history of war in China and Japan (and in colonial warfare), but the trilogy and this novel are exceptionally well-written because of it. I recognize understanding of military campaigns and colonialism when I read it, and it’s well-conveyed in the novel. The story shines, however, because of the way the core characters are written. It’s anchored by the complex characterization of the main characters, which is the truly compelling part of the series. 

I’ve written several pieces before about how Runin, or Rin, is an anti-hero that truly would be the villain in any other story of this world. We sympathize with her because she is the protagonist we follow, but we understand as well the horrors of who she is becoming, down to the very end of the novel when she becomes the mirror of the man who hurt her and haunts her. The novel (and perhaps this trilogy), in a way, is about this desperate struggle of young soldiers who went to extreme measures to keep their country safe and united, only to understand that they’ve inherited a history of warfare and a bucket of problems from their predecessors. It’s about youth who fought for their ideals only to understand that their ideals would not yet be achievable due to the complexity of the world--and the trilogy ends on that note, with that ringing, cold reality. And we understand why, even if it’s such a painful ending. Sometimes, even forces like gods have to fall to the world or go insane before they recognize that. Even though Rin has a god in her head that is driving her insane, I also took her selfishness and insanity at the end as a presentation of post-traumatic stress disorder.

I think R.F. Kuang succeeds at writing suffering in her stories in a sympathetic manner, because I feel so much even when I recognize that such actions certain characters take are twisted. It’s a fitting ending, even if it’s such a fucking cold one. I knew from the very beginning of this trilogy that there wouldn’t be a happy ending for Runin. I hoped there would be for Kitay, but the truth is, he also stayed with her and chose that route, so there would never have been a happy ending for him either. No one wins in war. And sometimes violence is truly a cyclical story in more ways than one. 

This wasn’t a perfect novel and I don’t think it was my favorite of the series, but it’s one I deeply enjoyed immersing myself in. It was a strong, and in my opinion, a fitting end to what was a sprawling, wonderful trilogy about the monsters people can become for their ambition and ideals in war. Might have been kind of fitting that it was the last story I finished in 2020.

4. The City We Became by N.K. Jemisin

I have heard numerous times that Jemisin is a brilliant writer, and though this is my first novel of hers, I can understand why such glowing praise has been given to her. This is an urban fantasy novel about cities being living beings, and the way it’s written is so utterly unique and charming that I can’t help but marvel at how she came up with it. I’ve read briefly that she might be inverting Lovecraftian themes, but as I’m less familiar with Lovecraft, I have no insight into my reading on that. Moreover, though I have an outsider’s view of New York City, I recognize this novel as one of the most elaborate love letters to New York City and its diversity I’ve ever read. I’m not a city girl, but if there is one city I love, it is New York--and this novel made me miss being in New York. 

It’s also a novel that is acutely aware of diversity in various ways and the reactions people have to diversity. I feel like this novel is one that is good to read in light of all the issues we have in institutional racism and how conversations are being held on extreme opposites in the spectrum, because Jemisin doesn’t shy away from it. One of the boroughs of New York, in fact, is represented by that kind of human who leans right, with prejudiced views given to her by alt-right parents and upbringings. It’s easy to forget that in a liberal city like New York how different conversations and views of the world are being had, but New York is a world in itself, of both people who have lived there all their lives and people who flock there from different cities. I love that the people who represent New York as living entities of the city are so very different--and that New York requires six people to represent it. Whether it’s Padmini as a non-citizen, Manhattan as a stranger to New York, or Brooklyn who has lived there all her life--there are so many walks of life in this city that are so emblematic of New Yorkers. And if anything, this novel is a hopeful story about that kind of diversity and how it comes together in adversity against entities that hope to bring it down. 

As my first novel of the year, I’m thrilled that it was such a brilliant read that weaves in matters that seem highly relevant to me and the society I live in. It was also one that seems to cast the conflict in shades of white supremacy and racism--or even just simple prejudices on various levels. Even the character that I’m prone to find a little more disdainful for being extremely conservative (Staten Island) I find a little sympathetic, because I’m witness to her upbringing and how people can twist those beliefs or hammer it in further (in this case, through the Woman in White and her desire to destroy the city). I’ve read numerous stories from fantasy and science fiction, but I don’t think I’ve read one that feels quite as modern or in the present as this one. There are many ways to interpret the whole concept of cities and the universes they kill for simply existing, but the complexity of it makes me fascinated. I’m looking forward to reading the rest of this trilogy and her other books, because she’s absolutely fantastic at worldbuilding and weaving in themes that make you think. Is it the most perfect novel? Do I think the last part of the novel has the greatest resolution? Not exactly, but still what a damn good read. 

It’s a novel where the main characters are all people of color and depicts a choice white character as a stereotype and an enemy. I suspect that may make some readers uncomfortable, but to those readers, I would ask them kindly to consider how many novels people of color have read over the years where they were marginalized, stereotyped characters. It’s the same kind of question those who denounced BLM movements entirely on the premise of All Lives Matter. Somehow this book feels like it mirrors our world and current events, even in a fantasy world. It feels more so, in the wake of BLM and the attempted coup that happened less than 24 hours ago.

As an aside, I love Veneza and Padmini.

[trulycertain]

For the Latin prompt list: 5 or 15

5. Ad astra per aspera. To the stars through difficulties.

This is what John thinks of, when he looks through a window on the Normandy and out into space: 

He thinks of being a hard-scrabble kid with too many scars, watching friends die because of red sand or because of smuggling it. He thinks of the first time he felt a gun against the back of his head, turned and saw a friend holding it. He thinks of the gang tats and the pain of getting them removed, afterwards, and the way he clung to his dog tags and barely made a sound, even though in his head he was screaming, screaming, screaming.

And he’s fifteen and sitting against a wall, looking up at the sky through the smog and dust, and thinking, Huh. There are people up there. He remembers reading old Earth fiction about space travel, and yeah, maybe he read the Alliance pamphlets when they came round. Apparently they spammed datapads, but it wasn’t like he could afford a decent one, so he never got the system update - or maybe he just missed it, he doesn’t know. He’s never been much good with that kind of tech. Anyhow, he builds ships in his head, then, works them up from imaginary blueprints and then girders. Part of him wonders how the hell those things stay in the air, but part of him knows - he spent years taking old books about that kind of thing, and sure it was illegal but he was never going to know otherwise. He builds ships in his head, and then he starts to build the people.

(Later, when he’s twenty-nine and people are telling him he saved the galaxy, he’ll build models instead. Put them together in his quarters with shaking hands and think that he could just never get the tailfins right when he was a kid. And he never accounted for the complexity of a decent FTL engine, not really. Those things are huge, and you can feel the floor under your feet vibrate when you stand near one, even with all the safety guards.)

Yesterday he walked past the Alliance recruitment posters with some of the others, and he’d laughed about it being propaganda bullshit too, because he wanted to be alive tomorrow. But he’d wondered, and he’s still wondering. It’s not like he’s got anything to lose.

He was right, though, even then: it’s all bullshit. He builds people in his head, but none of them are a too-skinny kid who steals books, when he’s not stealing everything else, and sleeps on cardboard in alleys with his dirty, falling-apart boots still on. He laughs under his breath at the thought of someone like him getting stripes, getting patted on the back, the way some of them do in the stories. Shit, they’d probably kill him if they knew half of what he’d done.

The first time he sees a quarian, he only just stops himself staring, because he’d heard of them but he’d never seen one on Earth. Sure, turians and krogan and everyone else, but never a quarian. He thought they lived in fleets, travelled pretty far from here. He thinks that he’s never spoken to one. And he wonders about how it is that, even with the fact he watched his best friend snap a guy’s neck yesterday, the world can still surprise him. It makes him feel better, somehow. Makes him forget about the shaking and the blood. And he wonders who else is out there that he’s only heard stories of, maybe not even that. He thinks of planets he’s never been to, people he’s never met. 

Yeah, kid, that’s the trouble, he remembers Sal telling him once. You like people too much. Means you’re good for deals but you can’t take what the deals mean afterwards, can’t clean up. 

And John’d shaken his head and said, I like people. Doesn’t mean I trust them.

He’s seventeen, getting a gun pressed into his hands and told to deal with a problem. That problem didn’t do anything wrong except try to tell the truth about the Reds’ stranglehold on this neighbourhood; didn’t even hurt anyone. His hands are shaking, and he’s thinking that he can’t talk his way out of this one, and they’re saying the same, grinning, but it’ll be all right, kid, you got a lot of your father in you, just don’t think too much. And he’s looking up at the sky while his boss walks away, building ships and stars and skies in his head and wishing he was somewhere, anywhere else. Because you don’t disobey the Reds. And you don’t lie to them, either.

So, it’s either his last night on Earth or someone else’s, depending on how brave he can be, and he’s spending it reading old books - some story about a kid who gets to go and see stuff he never expected, gets to be some kind of wizard, hundredth printing or so, and hell, when he was eleven he was running red sand and trying to duck past the mercs, so just being stuck in some cupboard under a staircase, in an actual house, seems like the fantasy part even without the magic - and doodling stars on some napkin he grabbed from the bins outside a restaurant. That’s when he sees it on a screen.

The recruitment drive. Ships leaving for the training centre at the Citadel, tonight. Propaganda bullshit, he thinks, running past the blaring holoscreens and back to the shithole he and ten other people call home. Grabbing his stuff and making sure no-one else was around and then running to the office. Abandoning the gun there, turning out his pockets and leaving packets of red sand in his wake. Propaganda bullshit, he thinks, signing his name on the virtual dotted line and not even blinking when he lies about his age. 

Last night on Earth, he thinks with a bitter half-grin as the ship lifts off. He realises too late that he’s left the book, too, but there’ll be other books. There’ll be whole libraries. He doesn’t know why it’s so hard to watch locks of hair falling to the floor, but it is. When they start shaving his head, he shuts his eyes, and thinks of stars.

Turns out joining the Alliance is just getting another gun shoved into his hands, but they say stuff about peace and never use force if you don’t have to, and somewhere along the way he starts believing it. By the first time he steps foot on a ship on his first decent posting, he hasn’t taken his dog tags off in days, and he carries an assault rifle rather than the cobbled-together pistol he did back home. He shook in his boots the first time he saw the Citadel, got kind of a headrush when he stepped onto it, but now, somewhere different, he just presses his hands to the wall, feels the low vibration of the engines, and thinks of new colonies.

Years later, when he’s spitting out blood on Akuze and listening to friends dying screaming, again, for the first time in years, and he’s got injuries that the one smear of medigel left can’t help, he thinks of never seeing other suns, new worlds, new people, and he crawls.

(Sometimes he closes his eyes and he’s still crawling.)

They call him Shepard after that, mostly. Sometimes it’s with a little awe and you were on Akuze, weren’t you, while he tries not to think of the blood and the dirt and the crawling. He stops trying to change that. Sometimes he thinks he might forget his own first name. He washes the blood off his hands and tries not to freeze up when they say, that’s Shepard, like he’s someone worth admiring.

After he talks some scared salarians (Korun and Mello, they tell him their names are, eventually) down from shooting the guns they found at the sight of unidentified Alliance personnel, he gets called into the captain’s office. You’re one of the good ones, Shepard, his captain says, matter-of-fact and without the scared awe. There’s something in there, though, that might be… pride? And John blinks and mumbles, I, uh, thank you, Captain. Just doing my job, while Anderson looks like he might be trying not to laugh.

John watches sunrises on Mars, sits with a quarian and listens to her talk about her pilgrimage, watches a turian get his clan markings. He gets asked where home is and says the name of the ship he’s on. Earth is an afterthought.

John, he hears, for the first time in a long while. And it’s a quarian, part of the crew - his crew, though that still feels weird to think - saying it. Because, as he’d said, I’m not your CO, Tali, you don’t have to call me Shepard. Something warm rises in his chest, something he can’t explain, but he’s barely started thinking about what it might mean when he gets spaced.

It seems right, somehow, dying out here. He laughs bitterly at it. He wants to say he goes calmly, but he’s screaming and calling out for anyone who’ll listen and scrabbling at his helmet. Even though he’s kicking out, some part of him is thinking Least it’s not some alley on Earth and Least I got to see the stars. And they flash behind his eyelids when his vision goes.

John looks out of a window on his ship, bracing his hands against what looks like glass but isn’t - and he’s thirty, nearly thirty-one, and so damn tired (and fifteen and dreaming, and seventeen and scared, and twenty-one and twenty-nine and all of it at once). He was asked once if it bothered him, having such a direct view - if it made him think of getting spaced. The truth is, it does. And it makes him remember that there’s more than the blood on his hands and the politics; makes him think that somewhere out there there’s a Fleet with the woman he loves on it; makes him remember that he isn’t crawling; makes him remember that he went and he saw and he’s breathing.

He remembers Ash quoting, once, “I cannot rest from travel: I will drink life to the lees.” 

He remembers saying back, quietly, “Come, my friends, ‘tis not too late to seek a newer world. Push off, and sitting well in order smite the sounding furrows; for my purpose holds to sail beyond the sunset, and the baths of all the western stars, until I die.”

And she’d grinned in surprise, bright in the dimness of the mess. Didn’t take you for a poetry kind of guy, skipper.

He’d smiled back, remembering old books and old daydreams. I’m a ships kind of guy, he’d said, because it was simpler.

He thinks of Ash, wherever she is, and the others out there, somewhere he can’t see. He wonders if he’ll see them again. And when he sleeps, he dreams of stars.

[thelastraigeki]

Why I RP as Yautja and Turtles

I said that I was going to be writing up something which explains why I play certain races in roleplaying which don't fit into certain genres or criteria? Well, this is going to be that post. I'm not really having anything structured, so this is all done on the spot. I just feel like I have to seriously explain myself to myself and maybe others who want to understand my way of thinking and doing things.

For those of you who know me personally, I've been living a double life. One in the outside world, and one behind a keyboard and monitor. I am a free-form text roleplayer. I assume the name, face, and actions of a character and have them interact in a world of make-believe. Sort of like Dungeons and Dragons but without a set system. For my fellow roleplayers... you know who I am, what I do and everything. So, where do we begin?

I've always was different, always had to be different, especially growing up. When I recall my days in elementary to high school, I've never really made an effort to be part of a scene in particular. I was a drifter, a loner with a few friends. So, I think... this also plays in part to why I play certain races such as the Yautja, better known as the Predators of the film franchise of the same name, and the crossover franchise, Alien vs. Predator. And more recently, I have been playing a TMNT OC.

I began roleplaying sometime around 2001 and I started out in the AOL chatrooms. Back then the big thing was anime (still is by the way) and everything was Dragonball Z chats. Everyone was a Saiyan or some... Saiyan with mixed heritage. For me, it got pretty annoying and I decided to do something different... I also was seeing a lot of bishounen or bishoujo type characters. Flawless characters who were boinkable or modelsque who had powers which were planet busting. No flaws. So, I decided to RP as something which most would find ugly or not traditionally aesthetically appeasing. I also wanted to have some really nasty tech. So, I decided to RP as a Predator.

My way of thinking is why do what everyone else is doing? Be different. Break the mold. Yes... I know, it sounds like I want to be that special snowflake.

So I go to other rooms, and they were more or less the same as the AOL chats. SMC being one of them, and to my surprise it was like high school. Very much full of cliques, sometimes elitists. Yeah, that place didn't leave me with a good taste and I still did what I did-- play a Predator character in there while everyone was either this Saiyan-Angel, Saiyan-Demon, Saiyan-Unicorn-Vampire-Dragon... whatever. That's not to say I haven't made a few friends there but... they're far and few between.

Shortly thereafter when SMC died (Thank God...) I was introduced to the SRI. Now, I had a hard time getting my character in there because was a no-tech rule enforced by someone who hadn't been in the room for YEARS and it had to be reminded to me by it's players. I still brought my Predator character in. Why and how? In my mind, regardless if a world is more primitive and set in a certain time period, there is NOTHING stopping an extraterrestrial presence from dropping by and checking it out. I mean, if you believe in UFOs and Extraterrestrials, they stop by on our backwater planet ALL the time, so why not another, lesser developed world? The no-tech rule was still enforced, and I remember doing well without the more advanced gear for Rakai'Thwei-- and he took on some heavy hitters without his cloaking device or his plasma caster.

By now, more people started getting used to me... more friendships were started and some... eventually genuinely liked the character of Rakai'Thwei. Why? Hard to say but I'm glad to know that people loved and still love him. It makes me feel good that other player controlled characters off-handedly mention him in good memory... or bad, as Rakai has hunted A LOT of magic users who were also bishoujo or bishounens and SUCCEEDED.

Over the years more chatrooms were made, most of them pretty generic as they mostly revolved around a lake and a forest. And I still played Rakai'Thwei and his clan over there in those places. By then people knew me as "That Predator Guy". Or something... Hey, at least I wasn't a cookie cutter bishoujo or bishounen. Again, why do what everyone else is doing?

So, for a few years I was making my own chatrooms but they were meant to break the monotony of the fantasy medieval genre. My first room was AVP: Forever Hunt-- and it was set in a colony installation. It got very little traction. So sometime after that, I believe... four years after, I was approached to admin a room called Warzone and it was set in modern Earth... For a while it was doing good but there were falling outs with members and admins, and I was ousted of my position. But I was proud of it, there were little to no magical bishoujo or bishounens, or folks with unbeatable god-like power.

Now, I know what your asking... Phil, why didn't you make your own chatroom? Well, I did... It was called City of Shadows, and it drew inspirations from World of Darkness, Alien vs Predator, Marvel, DC, Street Fighter and other things. For a while, the room was pretty successful. All the way up to 2008 to 2012. But I think what contributed to it's fall was that... I let a certain crowd from the CBUB into the room, and one of them was making too many chatrooms and formed an exodus. Basically, all my players were stolen. But my world was different, my world was something meant to break away from the whole fantasy-medieval, sword and spell thing. And if you were a magic user in that world, which are allowed but you were a minority and the world and it's inhabitant would have a violent backlash. It was also set in Philadelphia, and if it was ever at all unwelcoming... well.. that's because it's A reflective part of the city itself, and the world we live in.

I deleted the chatroom in 2013 and then later on recreated as Philadelphia: City of Shadows. It has gotten little to no traction since. I think we all know why...

So years later on, the SRI is revived again... Why? I don't know. I bring Rakai back or rather... the current, main interpretation of him from Philadelphia: City of Shadows. The SRI Universe version of Rakai was later retconned into being a separate entity, who left the world of Spyradion. This one did what the SRI Universe version was unable to do... and his tech still worked (although the no tech rule MIGHT have been loosened up or no one was around to enforce it) to do enough damage to player characters. After he returned to his universe... I didn't know what to do.

So, I brought my TMNT OC in.... I love Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, and this character has... had something of difficulty in being accepted in other rooms. Particular for the way he is played. I don't play the 1980s Toon TMNT in mind... No, I play with the 1984 Mirage comics in mind... where the TMNT were angry and violent because they were reflective of the world which Eastman and Laird created.

He was also a character of few words because in two chatrooms he existed in, he was in ninja mode 24/7. He had to be. One chatroom called Dice Masters was set in a weird... cosmic setting... I don't remember too much of it, and I quite damn well don't care. All I remember is that there was one player who bitched at me because of my formatting and I just decided to not return. Another room was called Operation Syndicate which was a room that drew inspirations from Mad Max, Hokuto No Ken and other series which... I don't know but I was welcomed with open arms. For a while, I could play Giger Van Gogh as the ninja he should be-- a silent vigilante who resorted to lethal and permanent methods to deal with his enemies. Unfortunately, there were some complaints from fellow players that the character was unrelatable, overly violent, and generally anti-social. Considering the world that room was set up with... He HAD to be. You wanted to approach him? Go ahead. You wanted to be friendly with him? Earn his trust...

Then I was banned from the room for simply playing the character the way I wanted him played because an admin was quite fearful that I was going to have him off her characters. That and I made a joke regarding the Starwatcher hunt which happened in the  SRI in 2001 - 2002.

Now in the SRI... he doesn't HAVE to be in ninja mode 24/7, because there are weirder things than a mutant Turtle who is a ninja. So he is much more approachable. He sort of fits in... but he doesn't considering his origins and period of time he's from. That, and there's the Symbiote. The reason why I brought the Symbiote in was to better deal with some player characters, and it was inspired by a game mechanic in Heroclix. Yes, in that game, I have played Symbiote bonded TMNT.

But in comparison to other characters, Rakai'Thwei included, Giger Van Gogh is an under-dog type character. Underpowered compared to many others, despite having the Symbiote which boost his speed, strength, stamina, durability and what not. His weaknesses are exploitable and I've noticed an increasing number of characters now wielding sound magic. Coincidence? But I like Giger Van Gogh, as he sort of makes me have to approach things in a different way... I have to sort of Batman my way in doing things.

Every now and then I get asked: "Well, why don't you make something that fits in? People will flock to you."

My answer to this is: Everyone else is doing it. Personally, I don't like to play humans because I see them as fairly weak in comparison to many races unless they are Street Fighter types-- and I play one in my own chatroom where she belongs. I don't like playing Elves because in my opinion, most of them play them as either hoity toighty tree hugging hippies and they are way too aesthetically pleasing. I've been asked to play one before from one player... did it, and I didn't like it. Angels? Too pious. Demons? Never saw the appeal... that and I just feel like most people play them wrong (they aren't handsome bishounen... See Zozo for an example) unless they're incubi or succubi. Werewolves? Who hasn't done that? Vampires? BOR-ING! Especially with how Bram Stoker, Anne Rice and Stephanie Meyer tailored them over the years. They should be mindless, raging, blood thirsty monstrosities... like seen in 30 Days of Night.

So... I chose to play a Yautja because I liked the physical differences they have from humans, the superhuman abilities which they had back before all this PREDATORS and Prometheus bullshit came out. And they had some really wicked tech to boot. I choose to play a TMNT because they are something which I happened to have grown up with, and they're still pretty powerful but not overly so as say a Yautja. Plus, neither side are aesthetically pleasing... and they don't use magic, which I feel is very over-rated and over used.

I like being different. Why do what everyone else is doing?