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c-midori · 4 months

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THE OCTONAUTS MERMAID AU

PACK YOUR BAGS

“Natquik?”

The critter spoke to him, with his voice… of such familiarity. It was… something Natquik would have heard before, but it didn’t hit him.

There's just no way, the fox thought, as he kept looking in front of him. Was this REALLY Barnacles, having come ashore like this? This POLAR BEAR with the tail of a BELUGA WHALE under his waist? Was THIS the one who fell into that ice cave in 2004? Was it? Who WAS this? WAS it REALLY the REAL Captain Barnacles Bear than so many adored across the Meomiverse, by critter AND creature?

Yes, it was.

“Oh, oh my GOODNESS!” Natquik cheered, running over to give the polar bear a hug. “It’s you! It’s REALLY you! BARNACLES! My BOY!”

Barnacles laughed, just as delighted to see his old friend once again. “Well, even if I’m confined to the sea, a good captain never leaves their walking crew behind!”

“…uhh, I do want to apologize for not showing up any earlier. It’s been hard maintaining the wreck site of the Octopod, so bear that in mind…”

Everyone could just TELL that the captain didn’t go even an INCH above the sea. These last few days, his fur went into contact with the water, and only the water, yet it was still nice and soft, even if the skin below was scarred. They weren’t bleeding, though, so they weren’t going to be a nuisance of any sort. Barnacles didn’t like thinking about his scars, even if they taught him lessons of all sorts.

“So THAT’s where you’ve been!” Marsh facepalmed in realization. “I guess it’s reasonable to stay there anyways… though when I came down there, it was an absolute mess-“

“Yes, yes,” Natquik joined back into the conversation. “Ranger and I took the GUP-A and drove down there to help Tunip and whoever else, but… well, there were… Hey, what happened?”

“Oh, uh, sorry,” Barnacles, having been shook by hearing that, snapped back to respond, a little confused by… them being down there. “I… had no idea you two were nearby earlier. When… was this?”

This went from awkward to straight up embarrassing. Did he make them impatient? He hoped not. He was getting hesitant. Not a whole lot but just enough to start losing words. Which took only a little bit of this concern. No wonder he wasn’t feeling absolutely abysmal through the week; for how much contact he had with the Octo-Agents, apart from that, he was entirely disconnected. Right now, if anything, the Octo-Alert would be going off for the 2nd or 3rd mission this week. How many things have happened this month? Just 1, on October 2nd. 2 days before the crash. Sure, it was just 5 to 6 days now, and usually that wouldn’t make so much of a difference, but he was CAPTAIN BARNACLES. The one who always stayed alert for any situation. And what was he doing? Not that. The moment he realized all of this, he could’ve sworn that his heart skipped TWO beats.

His mind was all over the place for one second, and then he put his paws in his face, ashamed that he failed to do his job he’d have been doing right for 13 years now. A streak of 13 WHOLE YEARS, and he finally broke it. Being the CAPTAIN, the LEADER of the Octonauts, you know that’s most certainly unacceptable.

But was it his fault? No, it couldn’t have been. Hurricane Selma was something beyond his control, and even if he and his crew nearly died, and even if it resulted in the almost complete destruction of the base he called home away from home for years, he DID try to make the most of their predicament.

Heck, why did he chew out Kwazii and Shellington in the past for all their mishaps with the GUPs, when he knew he was near NO better? Don’t even get him started on the fact that he called everyone to the HQ, no one came, the crash happened, and he ended up getting hurt pretty badly because the windows shattered. Everyone else was mostly fine because they didn’t follow his advice. They were thinking right in this situation, EVEN Peso and Dashi.

He was getting too used to being so perfect and overwhelmed all the time. Now that it finally hit him after more than a decade, it hit him SUPER HARD on the head, right between his eyes.

“Barnacles, I’m talking to you. We were there TODAY.” Natquik, worried, raised his voice, trying to get his attention by grabbing his pectoral fins.

“Oh dear… I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I…” The polar bear hyperventilated a bit, shaking his head in regret. He couldn’t stop going into deep thinking. “I’m just reflecting on what happened, and I think I was too hard on everyone, including myself…” he sighed, curving his tail around in the sand. “Just be honest, from the times you’ve seen me with my crew… have I been TOO critical?”

Natquik had to admit, for how long he spent working (mostly) alone with only Tracker sometimes, he still knew THIS bear very well… and yeah, Barnacles WAS kinda like what he asked. Not that he was absolutely terrible for it—he was a CAPTAIN, and probably the nicest one ever—but it WAS something he could work on. Shellington HAD told the arctic fox long ago about everyone’s shenanigans, and Barnacles was something he documented for days.

End of the day, though, Barnacles was just trying his best to take care of his friends and family as much as he could… even if it didn’t work out THAT well in the end.

It was a good thing everyone was alive and well.

Maybe Barnacles needed to think of something else. Enough with the existential crises. Fuck those. He knew there was a smaller, more closer issue. Somehow that helped more than something in the past… no, that actually made sense when he thought about it.

It started to click with him that while he’d have seen his sister, he hadn’t seen his cousins. That was ironic. Usually it was the other way around. He usually saw Orson and Ursa all by themselves, but Bianca was nowhere to be seen. Of course, during those times, Tracker was just looking after Bianca back at her den in the Northwest Territories, and that Orson and Ursa were… Well, Tracker didn’t know what they were up to, Bianca just let them go. It wasn’t awful parenting for a polar bear; matter of fact this was probably normal as these cubs were slowly growing up and would have to get used to it eventually…

However, this is MEXICO, not Canada. Bianca’s home was FAR away. And if Tracker was up here, and Bianca down in the Pacific, and if both were mermaids—Tracker had probably transformed TODAY while Bianca got turned about a few days ago—then that was probably a sign that maybe, just MAYBE, those two cubs came with either their mother or something like that…

"Uncle Barnacles! You’re here!"

Oh, just perfect timing, the captain thought. They’d have been hiding in the GUP-A the whole time. What a coincidence, wasn’t it…

“So is THAT why I heard breathing coming from the back of this thing?” Marsh laughed. “Oh me, oh my, I LOVE this job…”

Funnily enough, Orson and Ursa FULLY believed what Koshi said a while back, and they were INSANELY delighted to see their UNCLE like this. That was a GOOD sign, matter of fact. Mom was nearby, no denying that!

Periwinkle was a little shook as well, but not as much because he already saw that other polar bear not too long ago. Compared to Tracker, however, he could totally respect Barnacles. That man KNEW what he was doing most of the time. He was just trying to keep knots tight, trying to keep everyone safe after that disaster.

The older the otter pup got, the more he understood that. Sure, he got the basics at first, but now he could really express his gratitude. Maybe one of these days… as he went back to looking at this Samsung Galaxy S5 he got his hands on from a week ago.

Mum must be proud as well.

Everyone then overheard Yeshi’s flip phone going off. Barnacles didn’t even know he was here, but he enjoyed some company most of the time, so no sweat.

“Yeh, it’s Yeshi. Is that you, Shellington?” The dachshund spoke, having each of the crew, and Paani’s thighs, both on speed dial. “What’s up?”

“What? No way! These guys have to see this! Give us 5 seconds, alright?”

Uh oh? Maybe. Whatever that was, it was a good excuse to see what Marsh meant by "an absolute mess", which in and out of itself already sounded pretty freaky. And this was MARSH saying this. And that bunny had SEEN "an absolute mess" before, ESPECIALLY after Hurricane Elsa’s horrendous landfall in Florida 2 years ago, so you KNEW he KNEW what he was talking about. And you’d think Barnacles WAS aware of just HOW MUCH of a mess was left… even AFTER the crash. He wasn’t. Hopefully this quick trip back would help.

He just couldn’t handle the fact that his… DAD, if anything… was waiting here for nearly a whole week. Having left him behind after one call that didn’t explain much… that felt more than cruel, that felt TORTURING. It was a good thing he could see him at SOME point, even if it WAS over the… due date. Was there even a due date? No idea. Did he ever mention that? Nah, surely not. Definitely a good idea to STILL see Natquik before the end of the week, (well, THIS week, the crash was last week) that was for sure.

The dachshund hung up, and approached everyone with a look that conveyed “this is gonna be so good yet it’s gonna be absolutely awful”.

“Oh, hey Captain Barnacles,” he gave a smile and a wave to the main mermaid, not really caring about him also being like this since he’d have witnessed Paani and Tracker earlier. “Uh, what’s the maximum speed of the GUP-A?” he then asked, making sure he’d be able to catch up.

“Are we really headed back there? Already?” Barnacles looked over at him and at the water in concern. It had only been about 25 minutes, so what was going on now?

“…it’s not you, it’s the Octopod,” Yeshi explained. “It’s not being destroyed. Matter of fact, it’s… completely fine. All I can say is, well…"

"Pack your bags."

Pack your bags.

PACK YOUR BAGS.

Eh, he probably just meant to get ready, the captain thought. No biggie. He could crawl his way back into the water. Paani and Tracker definitely, ESPECIALLY the former, needed some of that blue as well.

“Ah, just look at all of this,” Natquik chuckled. “Seems like we’re having a nice time, aren’t we?”

Captain Barnacles… had to admit it. He was NOT going to be sad in a time like this. Not during this… reunion. Sounded fun to be going on this little trip with them… And besides, Orson and Ursa could just see how graceful he was, now that he was a mermaid! It was wonderful! He wasn’t letting his past get in the way anymore. Nearly drowned? So what? That wasn’t a problem anymore. He was a MERMAID! A REAL MERMAID! And everyone was seeing this! Tracker and Paani were one thing, but the CAPTAIN himself?! That was EVERYTHING!

“C’moooon, Barnacles…” The macaque waved over to him, now half in the water. “We’re all a big pod here… aren’t we~?”

He was right. Everyone who'd been turned since day one really had to be in some kinda pod. Barnacles HAD seen H2O before, so he knew where this was going.

Heh. Octopod, more like Octo-POD…

“Paani, you bet I’m coming!” Barnacles shouted at him, as he prepared to swim as fast as he could, prideful of his form like he should be. Whatever this was all about…

HOW PERFECT, indeed.

The fact that, in retrospect, this was an endless loop of going back and forth between land and sea, the latter being where the captain slept in. Gosh, Midori, you’re a horrible writer…

You need to improve on this. Your grammar is good, your punctuation is good… but your storytelling falls short. Have these last few chapters been nothing but fillers? Maybe. Gosh, I’m pathetic…

That’s it. I need to let go. I need to go full throttle here. Or at least speed up a little more. I can’t just sit around and fall back into the flaws of my old fanfics. I have to do something.

Pack your bags, Midori. This HAS to work.

~~~~

What a complete mess, everyone thought, dumbfounded as could be. Their once abandoned base clearly went through something… And this? This wasn’t bad, but… WHY?

"I just… I just don’t believe it,” Dashi shook her head. “One minute, I look away, and… the whole HQ is full of… I’m sorry, I’m just amazed.”

“You could say that again,” replied Tweak. “It’s like a… well, it’s a FUCKING mess, is my best description…”

Within minutes, maybe even seconds, most of the main area, excluding the launch bay, had just… gone up in flourishes of all kinds of little sea creatures, like someone had spilled 5 or 10 bags of licorice allsorts in the laboratory. Of course, Shellington did that once and while he had to clean it up, nothing really happened after that…

…But now, where the FUCK did all of these fish AND coral AND WHATEVER THE ACTUAL FUCK come from? It wasn’t here this morning, right?! No, it couldn’t have been! This was NOT normal, that was for sure. Coral reefs don’t form THAT fast outta nowhere, and not in the LITERAL OCTOPOD!

Almost everyone had been outside of the site when this situation occurred, most of them collecting the broken off fragments of metal and glass from the trail left by the crash. Inkling, for one, was a big help, as he and Min were using each other’s unique bodies to get every single bit out of the sand. It may have been mere Planck units of this trash, but to the two it was quite the difference maker to get it out.

It sounded familiar to most of the crew. Hadn’t something similar happened back in… maybe 2012? No one could really remember, but oh well. Maybe it’ll hit everyone eventually. For now, though, all they could do was just… look at this thing. It was perplexing, to say the least. Still expected, however; the whole thing was flooded to the last corner… well, except for Kwazii’s room. He wasn’t letting that stay here once he figured something out.

Speaking of, where was he?

Damn, the bunny thought. It WAS pretty colorful there. She wondered if, maybe, just maybe, she and Dashi could go in there, check out the environment that took over… It didn’t have to be so worrying, did it? No, not at all. Tweak knew better than that. She learned a lot from her mistakes. All for Dashi. All for her crew.

All for everyone.

“…you’re thinking deep, mate,” Ryla looked over at her, the same idea on her mind. “You don’t wanna go in there… Do you?”

Just hearing that made the bunny’s ears twist like a doughnut. “You mean, like… Oh me, oh my, oh for cloud’s sake,” she laughed it off, “you know me too well… uh, Dashi?”

“What’s up?” The dachshund turned her head to face her. “You and Ryla seem to be discussing something. I like that…”

Oh boy, both the bunny AND the wombat thought. This WAS gonna be awkward… Perhaps they’d just swim off and let her find out herself… that wouldn’t be right, would it? No, absolutely not. They best ask her. That was the RIGHT thing to do, as the former learned at this very point. Heck, what was she doing being careless like this when she almost died so many times, ESPECIALLY on 3/30… This wasn’t being careless, though. She just wanted intel on this kind of thing. Make sure everything was alright in there. Where was Shellington anyways? Inside? Probably.

“We… wanna investigate,” Tweak smiled, blushing a little, “and I think you’d wanna join. I mean, it’s not like we should be SUPER scared; the Octopod already crashed anyways… you in~?”

No way Dashi would pass up some time with her 2 besties. She nodded almost immediately, revealing her camera which she stashed on her right.

“Race you!” the dachshund mermaid giggled, which made Tweak shudder a bit. Not in a bad way, she just needed to figure this out. Dashi AND Ryla were FAST, being dolphin and needlefish tailed, and the bunny was just an electric eel. Not like she was far slower than either; she was sure she could go fast like them… Whatever, it was time to stop overthinking so much. Besides, eels are… cool.

So, that’s when the 3 took off, heading right into the holes made in the windows of the HQ. Good thing those were already there when they got turned… well, for Dashi and Tweak to a further extent as they’d have been here longer.

Roughly a few seconds in here and they were already mesmerized just seeing what had happened up close and personal. Sure enough, that was REAL FLORA, and REAL FAUNA flourishing through here. Like, if every little coral and fish were lined up end to end, it’d extend from San Diego to BEYOND LA. Maybe up to Santa Maria even. And it was all shoved into here… the former base of such a wonderful crew for so many years…

Dashi’s notice went not to what was covered, but rather to what WASN’T covered. Chairs that had been knocked over, including Inkling’s, and the COMPUTERS. Ah, the COMPUTERS… The screens definitely suffered a few cracks and whatnot, and more than likely inoperable, but just seeing this, in what was once her home away from home? Fascinating.

“It feels like it’s been forever,” the dachshund chuckled, as she picked up the instruction manual for the system. “I can’t believe how fast things change…”

Not minding soggy paper, Dashi just looked through the pages. This kind of thing she’d have been reading a week ago to recap on troubleshooting some small errors Shellington had. Now, the ink was slowly fading away, off the surface.

Normally, it wouldn’t be much, but to the IT officer, it just felt so… odd. When she first saw Hurricane Selma on the radar, she didn’t think a whole lot about it other than “oh, we should take caution of that,” but now the image of that was part of some the last memories before she… died. Died? No, she’d have survived that. She just lost her legs… well, they weren’t amputated, she got turned into a mermaid of course, but… there was definitely more to that than she could chew. A WHOLE lot more.

Last week, she was just making sure the latest version of Octo-OS had been installed.

Last week, she was just getting photos of that one cool betta fish she saw.

Last week, she was just calling Koshi and Yeshi to say goodnight, and that she missed them so much.

Last week was so close yet so far away.

And now?

Last week was the past.

Yes, her life truly did change a lot.

Dashi… didn’t know how to feel about that. There was no denying that the same went for so many others here.

“Uhhh, guys…?” She turned around, a single tear floating up from her eyes. “Do you ever think about… YOUR past?”

Much to her surprise, they did. Tweak herself had wondered quite a lot. And, unfortunately, unlike the dachshund, her past was a little more turbulent.

“Well, y’know, Dash,” the bunny spoke up, “I don’t think I’ve EVER told you this, or maybe I did, I can’t remember… I just turned 7, when I first met Cap. He was 14; it was 2009. Inkling invited us two to Victoria, to take a ride on the first iteration of the Octopod. Inkling had known about Nat and my Pa for quite some time and he thought this would be nice… and then, for reasons I don’t think I’ll ever know, we crashed and we almost died. I’m glad the glass stayed intact, but I’m sure neither of us thought of going back, yet, we did…”

“I don’t think I’m proud.“

To her, using one brain cell to remember it, then letting it die, the first days of being like this—before apologizing to Barnacles—might as well have also been the past anyways.

“Oi, listen up,” Ryla, in a matter of milliseconds, swam up to her side. “I’m glad I met you as much as I am that I met Dashi. If I never did get the chance, I’d have no idea what I was missing out on… Mate, I’d wanna go back and tell my past self to TRULY join the Octonauts… not stay back as a silly little Octo-Agent more than 10 years later…”

Dashi excitedly nodded in agreement. Like if she and Ryla never met, if she NEVER joined this crew of “explore, rescue, protect,” she’d be left in the sand. And while not every past could be good at all, all critters like Tweak deserved some level of love.

“Y-yeah…” The bunny giggled. The fact that she’d have even come this far was memorable. Even if last week WAS the past, being something, being here, even by a single bit of stardust WAS something to be proud of.

“Thank you… thank you…”

The “core”, despite the HQ being the most likely spot for it, slept all the way down in the laboratory, exactly where the transformations spread out from. There was TRUE abundance. Like the eye of a hurricane, like Selma, but instead of being calm, it was where ALL the commotion was. For the little creatures that swim around here, it was their home, their downtown, their big city, their Vancouver, their EVERYTHING. If it had REALLY been a few half hours since this happened, then it was safe to say that this REALLY was spontaneous. That, or these creatures were hiding here the WHOLE time after the crash.

In the middle of it was the sleeping body of a sea otter. It was Shellington, obviously. Waiting, waiting, and waiting for Barnacles to come back and see all of this. He wasn’t scared, he was actually delighted by the eruption of life here. To the creatures who built their homes in the walls and counters and whatnot, he, ironically, wasn’t much of a disruption, even with his huge shark tail. That’s what happens when you’re so well known across the seas, so now all the creatures are getting up close and personal with his tail. Piss off, he’s Kwazii’s AND Paani’s.

Shellington could… kinda hear the conversation between the mermaids upstairs. He could make out what they were saying, and with the honesty in his otter brain, he could understand why this bloom was a little terrifying for some. Poor Peso would shit himself if this kind of thing happened right in front of his very eyes. That’s what happened for the scientist. He was IN here, questioning if he or anyone was REALLY gonna get anything done, just as the first coral popped up. It overtook nearly everything in here, and whilst Shellington didn’t mind, it was pretty bizarre seeing how things like these happen.

Perhaps now was a good time to get up. Kwazii had to be here as well, right? He’s probably in the launch bay gnawing on his tail right now.

5 more minutes of rest would be on his mind, but Paani and Barnacles were coming back and he had to be ready to explain all of this… as if he KNEW why this happened either.

And he could already hear the GUP-A approaching. Oh, jumping jellyfish. Time to get his mind on the right lane and speak up.

“Good thing… I could replenish that energy from swimming so fast,” he yawned, swimming up through the main area and admiring all the colors. It was quite dreamy for him. He’d have seen vast colors, but not in such a compact spot like here. Somehow that made this even better.

Hopefully, this was the LAST time they had to do this kind of thing. Going back and forth between the Pacific Ocean and Guadalupe was the most headache-inducing thing in MONTHS, and that was GOING to stop for sure. Just round up everyone, get them to shore, and… well, Natquik’s idea was pretty low in terms of detail. It was understandable, yes yes, but he’d probably have to go deeper.

“For your assurance, the water is safe for legs,” Barnacles said to the crew inside the GUP-A, as it came to a stop just in front of the wreck. “It seems like the site’s been cleared as well; I didn't detect any scattered debris around here!”

The 4 occupants of the ship (Yeshi stayed behind to look after the Octoray and check for any damages from earlier) all donned their gear and swam out without issue, all following the captain. Bianca had taught her cubs the essentials quite a long time ago and they were putting those learned lessons to good use. Maybe one day, they’d be just like her.

“Oh, now what’s all this about~?” Almost immediately, Barnacles had noticed the changes around here, just to be greeted with Shellington and Dashi.

“Hey, Captain!” The dachshund waved over, making way for him. “You were gone for a little while, so we just tidied up a little…”

“Ah, I see. Good to be here as always,” Barnacles liked the sound of that, as he turned around, beckoning Paani and Tracker inside. “I hope you don’t mind a little extra company… and somehow this is the SECOND narwhal I’m friends with.”

“The second?” Dashi tilted her head in confusion. Of course, she KNEW about Boris… but was the captain being serious? There was barely any way he knew TWO of these-

“H-hi, Dashi!”

Oh, of course it was Tracker. That was worth a few chuckles. What was he doing here anyways? Nevermind that, she was still intrigued on this place becoming a reef in so little time, as was Barnacles who circled around the coral floored area, trying to make sure his eyes were working properly. Being out of sea for 20 minutes after 5 days down here probably wasn’t a good idea, but it shouldn’t have harmed him at all, right?

Right. He was a beluga anyways. The only reason he could breathe underwater was…

Wait.

Barnacles was actually pretty shocked at this realization more than he should’ve. Beluga whales can’t breathe underwater! They’re sea mammals! Polar bears can’t breathe underwater either!

Sure, some of his crew made sense. Paani did, as did Kwazii, Shellington and Pearl. Also, Tweak and Min… AND obviously Ryla.

But others like himself, his sister, Peso, and Dashi? They’d be dead by now. And sure, Inkling could go on land, but that wasn’t the point. This was the opposite. Dolphins don’t breathe underwater. Neither do dachshunds. Or polar bears.

This whole kind of thing was an absolute clusterfuck. Mermaids shouldn’t be real, but now they are, and somehow those who are tailed with those of mammals can survive down here, and now the Octopod is like THIS?!

A random solution that Shellington made months ago simply can’t do this kind of thing. No, this was no workplace accident. This was SUPERNATURAL.

“Barnacles… stop overthinking so much,” he started telling himself. “You know you’ve gone through so much, you’ve put yourself down so much for this… you promised you’d stop… stop overthinking… a good captain NEVER does that!”

He slammed his paws on the computer.

“NEVER!”

Everyone stopped talking and just looked at Barnacles. He was visibly shaking a LOT. His flukes kept swishing up and down, and he kept breathing loudly.

“I… I don’t get it!” He shouted. “I don’t understand ANY OF THIS! WHY DID WE EVER END UP IN THIS SITUATION?! WHY DID WE END UP HERE OF ALL PLACES?! WHY IS THIS ALL HAPPENING TO BEGIN WITH?!”

“Hey! What’s all of this about?” Natquik tried to get his attention. “Barnacles, what’s wrong?”

“THIS ISN’T LOGICAL AT ALL! THAT’S WHAT!” The polar bear replied in panic that slowly turned to sadness. “I… I CAN’T TAKE ANY OF THIS!”

At that, he slowly approached the window in front of him, preparing to BOOK it out of here. He WAS DONE. If he was going to be trapped in a sea of psychological torture, he had to get used to it some way or another. Until then, he was NOT showing his face.

“Barnacles, wait!” Bianca called out. “Please, just stop for a moment… just explain to us what’s wrong!”

There she was. His sister. Seeing all of this unfold. Now THIS was too far. He wanted to feel sorry, but he'd have hit his breaking point, and it was too late.

“…Life makes no sense. I need time to think.”

And so, he lifted his tail, and…

SMASH!

…broke the window, and made a swim for it.

No one had EVER seen Barnacles so upset before, so this was easily quite heartbreaking. The fact that he went from all happy to absolutely broken in minutes… Peso, in particular, was willing to be that he was holding in ALL of this for a REALLY long time.

As for Tweak, though… What she once considered the past came back to mind. The times she had, when she would fall into fits of rage, just like her captain did right now. The times she had, when she even attacked her best friends. The times she had, when she hid away from everyone…

She was horrible.

When she looked back at that, it made her ears droop. It made her feel pathetic. Absolutely abysmal. The fact that she was like this in the past made her choke a bit.

But now? She had LEARNED from that. She learned from her mistakes. She learned what was right and what was wrong. And that? That was worth it in the end. She felt so much better about herself now.

Tweak wanted Barnacles to do the same. She knew his struggles. And he was behaving like she used to. What a pile of trash, right?

No, not at all. Barnacles was critter. Like humans, it was normal for critters to struggle, to stress, to cry, to hit rock bottom. He just needed to recognize it for once and maybe even get HELP. Tweak knew he could rebound from today, and become better than before.

“Uh, guys?” She looked around, until facing the other mermaids… yet she still didn’t see her Pa. “I’m gonna go talk to Cap. I just wanna make sure he’s alright. In the meantime… I guess… wait here.”

And yet, Ranger Marsh STILL didn’t get to see her. The odds were NOT in either of their favors.

Tweak went through the same hole in the windows Barnacles created, twitching her nose as she tried to memorize what path he took. Obviously he wanted to get away from here, so that was worth noting. Where would a polar bear hide, anyways? Would he have made some sort of den?

Now, Tweak… was knowledgeable about this area. Very knowledgeable, in fact. She could circle around the wreck about 2 times and she’d get an idea of where everything was. Together, with what was left of the external pods, even the only non-flooded part of the Octopod (that being Kwazii’s room, that lucky bastard), they formed a compass, became her compass, and with the Octopod having fallen flat on its “face” and northwards…

“He went between the HQ and the rec room,” she told herself. “That’s northwest. And from what I’ve seen…”

She gasped, having gotten the perfect idea. That same cave she and Dashi were in earlier? There’s no way he wouldn’t be in there! She nodded, just thinking about it, before swimming down and not noticing that her tail was starting to change color from a sickly yellow to an alright green, like a mood ring.

Maybe that was the whole point. Or maybe just because she was cool.

~~~~

Barnacles couldn’t get himself out of it. Everywhere he went, he kept remembering that he was like this, that he was in this situation, and to him it was really uncomfortable. Not that he wanted his legs back—that was impossible anyways, so he didn’t mind living with it at first—but he just wished he knew what any of this was caused by.

He hid himself in this cave. His face was down in the sand, making sure he would NOT get a glimpse of the Octopod. He wanted to be ALONE with his OWN thoughts, in hopes that he could calm himself down. Not that it was any easy, though.

It was REALLY embarrassing. He’d have just fallen into a panic attack all because he hadn’t seen Natquik in so long and now the logic was getting to him. If he was alone during so, this wouldn’t be that bad, but this was in front of HIS CREW, HIS SISTER, HIS COUSINS, and HIS FATHER.

…even though, logically, natquik was his step… father? no, he wasn’t even his father, moreso his brother, as his mother never remarried, but barnacles saw him as just his father regardless.

Tweak laid flat on the top of the cave, ears pulled back, staying as quiet as she could to see if she could hear him. Was Barnacles aware of this place as well, or was it just her and Dashi? It WAS still of some close proximity to the base, so it definitely could just be his first resort.

She took a quick peek in, looking for his easily identifiable bright blue suit and his fantastic white fur. And while it was night time, Tweak’s eyesight was… certainly better than most other bunnies her age, and she was 21!

“Well, this is when my tail comes in handy,” she whispered, using it like a bungee cord and swooping down with her whole body. Now, electric eels definitely don’t do this, but oh well. She looked left and right, up and down, side to side. Nothing, up until she looked up once more and saw…

“P-Peso?!” Tweak was surprised. “What… What are you doing here? I said wait at the Octopod, not…”

“S-sorry,” the medic sighed. “I figured if anyone else were to help, it was going to be me.” He and Tweak both swam up, still looking down at the cave. “I just hope he’s okay.”

Alright, thought the engineer. That was valid. Peso was such a good friend to the captain anyways. So trustworthy, so brave, so peaceful… sometimes, she aimed to be like that. The more she thought about it…

“Well, of course we can do this together.”

Tweak went back down again, going more closer in to see if Barnacles really was in there. Surely enough, he was just an inch from the left wall, having gone polar bear fall flat. Dead? No, he couldn’t be. He seemed mostly solid, so definitely nothing attacked him. Perhaps he was just asleep, which was the most likely case.

“Yep, he’s in here,” Tweak gave a thumbs up to Peso, who promptly swam down. “Just stay quiet.” Neither the orca nor the eel wanted to wake up the beluga whale. They just wanted to wait for him. Stay close, just don’t scare him.

How Barnacles ended up reminded Peso of himself. He’d once have been this self aware of all of this. Back in the first days when he was resting on the sands of Isla Guadalupe, he kept questioning how everything in his life led him to this kind of thing. Despite how messed up his childhood was, though, it didn’t really harm him. However, Barnacles was 8 years older, Peso being 20, so it wasn’t a huge surprise the captain reacted differently.

But then, much to the surprise of the other two, the polar bear started to tilt his head upwards. As Peso and Tweak started to back up a little, he brushed away the sand on his face, full of tears.

“…T-Tweak?” He said in a raspy tone, just looking at the bunny in particular. “W-what are you doing here? I… I wanted to be alone right now.”

“…Sorry, Cap.. I…” the bunny started blushing in embarrassment, her tail slowly changing color back to yellow. “I just… wanna… help you.”

Bold words coming from someone who tried to leave him for dead, but Barnacles knew she meant it. Noticeably, throughout earlier today and yesterday, she HAD become a bit more sociable, which was definitely thanks to Dashi and Ryla.

“Well…” He sighed. “I… suppose you’ve changed for the better. I just… don’t get why I’m like this… why am I such a coward?”

Tweak sank to the seafloor, now sitting with her back against the cave wall next to Barnacles. She looked down at him, still laying down.

“It’s not you, Cap,” she calmly said. “You ain’t a coward. I don’t think ANY of us expected to become like this. It’s like how NO ONE crashed the Octopod… it just gave up. None of these changes are on us. It’s how we react to them, and, well… Ya know how I was on day one? AWFUL.” She wrapped an arm around him, making sure he was feeling even a tad better. “Needless to say? That was quite shameful of me, but it doesn’t DEFINE me… I’ve grown to learn that… Like my Pa did.”

“It doesn’t define me, Cap. It doesn’t define you either.”

Yeah, of course that was the case. Peso did. Dashi, too. Even Inkling. Tweak was NOT wrong at all. It didn’t help a lot, but he was understanding this, and that was helping a little already.

“I’d like to say something as well, Captain,” Another voice came from behind him, and almost immediately he looked around, and…

“Oh... oh dear,” Barnacles shook his head in surprise. “Sorry, I didn’t notice you earlier, Peso… right, what was that? Keep going.”

The penguin happily nodded. “Well, I think it has to be said for the future, especially now that we’re here. If you ever, EVER feel any sort of discomfort, like if you’re feeling annoyed or upset, or, like right now… please, Captain… talk to me, and tell me what’s the matter.” He calmly explained to his captain, flippers wrapped around the bear’s shoulders. “I may not be perfect at this—I’m a medic—but I’m trying my best with everyone here in mind, especially YOU. I’m willing to bet you’ve been holding in these feelings of anger and sadness for so long, and I think it’s safe to say that you need to let them out sometimes.”

Surrounded by two of his best crew, both who had been in his fins and went through similar issues… just wanting to look after him and wish him the best. Barnacles was fully believing this. This was valid, all of this was valid. It was like his father. They were all just trying their best to keep each other going, above AND below the surface.

“Thank you, Peso… now that I realize it,” he inhaled deeply. “I have to stop bottling this up. I make mistakes, and that’s normal. I just need to get up from them. It’s what everyone wants for me… It’s what I want for myself… so that’s what I’m going to do.”

He exhaled, slowly hovering over the sand and clearing out his face, making sure his fur was white enough. He was truly aware of his mishaps and his reactions. He wasn’t gonna let them kill him. The two other mermaids were delighted, hearing his words of acceptance and his wishes to move on. If his crew could learn their lessons, so could he. So why doesn’t he get going, starting now?

“That’s my Cap.”

~~~~

Above the surface, Yuma was frustrated in their own ways.

Standing and looking at the dark coast as they used to all the time probably didn’t click with their new friendship. Perhaps they needed a taste of what Koshi liked. Did they even ask? Surely THAT would REALLY break the already thinning ice.

“H-hey, Koshi.” They looked back at the puppy. “I’m sure you’re aware of what I do in my spare time… uh, what are your interests anyways?”

Now this was a question Koshi enjoyed getting. Sure, no one really asked her about it, but this coyote, who she'd been staying with for a little while now? THEY asked.

“One word, mate: Mystery! All of it, I tell you,” she gave a bright smile. “Don’t mind what kind, whether it be the disappearance of a kelp cake or the entire Octopod, I’m all in for it. I’ve read more than… 79 novels about this kind of thing. Maybe more, no one knows. See? THAT’s a mystery. And right now I’m in the middle of one!”

“Heh, I see, I see,” Yuma nodded. “You really are enthusiastic about that whole thing. Makes me wish I had something to enjoy myself…”

“Well, you’ve already got yourself,” the dachshund started to suggest, “and I think that’s already good enough… THOUGH, it looks like you want a taste of something else…”

To that, the coyote gave a nod. They DID want a bite out of… anything else, really, than just living this low life of theirs. Any gateway out of that, and they’d be free. Free from the burden that they left everything behind over in California. Sure, they liked their parents, but… holy smokes, Koshi meant SO MUCH to them. Why turn back to hiding away all the time… when she was here? An associate of a bunch of the coolest folks on this PLANET!

That’s when Yuma had an idea. They went inside, looked for the nearest pencil and paper, ran back out, and after trying to remember for a few seconds, sketched

“So, the other night, this little guy just WADDLED over to me while I was listening to music as always, and I have NO IDEA what the HECK it is-“

“Wait a minute-“

Within TWO seconds of seeing the drawing, Koshi proceeded to slowly put a paw to her face, only for both her and Yuma to realize…

How can I just adore the Octonauts like that, if I have no idea what…

“BAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!”

Just the realization made the two laugh uncontrollably like they were the only ones on this island.

“Mate, I don’t believe it!” Koshi wheezed. “You’ve been honored to the point where Tunip visited you PERSONALLY! What kind of thing needs to happen, for THAT?”

The coyote shrugged with a smile, figuring it wasn’t a big deal after all. After all, that little guy could rebuild his literal flesh. Surely he’d be fine. Not like they told Koshi they caught him by accident, because they DIDN’T.

“I assume you don’t have to return to duty anytime soon, Kosh? I’m sure there are many others here, seeing as the…” Yuma then asked, pausing for a moment to then clarify a little something else.

“Sorry, I just don’t really know what’s been going on for the last few years. This Octoray, these Octo-Agents…”

“I only knew the Octonauts.”

Well, it wasn’t like the Octonauts were ALWAYS popular. Sure, their voices and GUPs were HEARD throughout the 2010s but that later fell down to East Asia for seemingly no reason at all.

The resurgence was fading back in, and now was a good time to truly thank them AND their fellow friends for their efforts, even if these last few years were off the beaten path—going above the surface? Oh, the irony. Koshi, who'd been on one of these pre-Octoray missions with her sis, understood exactly what the enby coyote meant. And who else to blame but… No, enough with the blaming. Koshi wasn’t involved in the Tweak-Barnacles debate and even she knew there was no time for chewing out anyone.

“Well, at least this Octo-Watch comes in handy,” she then replied late. “And no, I don’t think I’ll be needed back any time soon… They’ll find me themselves, unless they’ve had one too many hot cocoas!”

“One too many hot cocoas?” Yeshi chimed in, having stood before them just eavesdropping. “Koshi, where have you been?”

“And speak of the inner core,” the other dachshund looked back with surprise. “My brother, Yeshi! Didn’t think you’d come back, now…”

Meanwhile, the coyote just stopped in their tracks and took a moment to FULLY compose themselves. One other critter was totally fine, but two’s a crowd. So, what did this ‘yotey do?

“H-hi, I’m Yuma, and welcome to Jackass.” said in the fastest and most awkward way possible, finished with a blush, but at least they stayed put. That was a record, wasn’t it?

“…it’s nice to meet you.”

That was something to be proud of, actually. Having warmed up so much thanks to Koshi… none of Yuma’s previous “introductions” could match up… no, they’d have FAINTED before.

“Nice to meet you as well. What’s all of this about?” Yeshi then replied, eyes going to his sister in particular, who did feel just as awkward as the coyote.

“…I made a friend. I’m more than sure of that.” Koshi would proudly announce. “It’s been boring just waiting here for nothing, so I used nights like these to meet up with…”

At that, she walked over to Yuma, and gave them a hug. And despite the height difference, hugs are hugs, and that was something everyone could use. ESPECIALLY someone like this coyote.

“…yeaaaaah. I’m still warming up to it,” they said with an expression of innocent embarrassment. “I had NO idea about you guys… I don’t tend to leave my home a lot, or at all.”

“…scary, I know.”

Unsurprisingly, that WAS to be agreed with. How could someone live like that for so long? Maybe that happened with someone among the other Octo-Agents, but with some typical citizen like Yuma? Ouch.

It was encouraging all three of them… to DO something.

Would they be able to pull this off?

Maybe, even with this unknown dude. Did they know?

Of course they did.

~~~~

“Alright, Cap… just take some nice, deep breaths,” Tweak would continue comforting the polar bear. “Y’know, I was actually gonna tidy up the launch bay and move the GUPs to their designated spaces. If you wanna stay with me, go for it.”

This kind of thing had happened a lot now. Barnacles would definitely have a break under the company of the engineer, like most of his crew had, but everyone was on standby waiting for him, and knowing how they trusted him, he would HATE to keep them waiting.

He thanked the bunny for the offer, but shook his head and swam up to the HQ. The 4 Octo-Agents who remained walking were back in the GUP-A, as was Bianca just comforting her cubs like a good mama bear does, even after they’ve become a mermaid… We already know this stuff, so let’s move on.

“Shiver me whiskers, ye returned!” Kwazii eagerly shook his paw, noticing the much softer expression he took on his face. “Why’d you lose it like that?”

It wasn't something he wanted to talk about, but Tunip was right next to him, and that little guy already proved illogical for the real world. Kwazii couldn’t read minds, even if he believed he could, but as he and Barnacles both looked at the Vegimal, then at their own tails, he somewhat figured out what had happened.

“…I was just worried for all of us. It got too weird for me, and I had to leave. I’m sure it’s all safe, though…” the captain told the kitten, the concern in his eyes having become minuscule. “Best not to worry anymore.”

“…well, Captain,” Dashi looked over at him, with a gentle smile. “If that’s what you’re going for, that’s okay… I just think we should get this whole thing done with.”

“Yes yes… MY thoughts exactly,” Natquik would slowly nod in agreement. “I’ve had these plans for all of us to leave this place… Although I’m not sure about the Octopod.”

“Oh, so that’s what it’s called!” Came a little voice from near the computers, which definitely belonged to one of the hundreds, THOUSANDS of little creatures. “We just came upon this wreck, and we figured we’d make the most out of it!”

Indeed, they’d have made a CITY out of this place. From the HQ to the library, they were everywhere. These creatures of all sorts just took full advantage, within HOURS, and no one knew until this hour.

In retrospect, this was actually quite heartwarming. Even without intention to, the mermaids had been fixing up this place for these little guys, all this time.

The Octopod was inoperable. Lost to the seas for good. And yet, it served as a landmark, a symbol, a reminder, a memoir, a TRIBUTE… to honor what nearly every creature adored.

When it really came to mind, it made tears flow among the crew. Not of sadness, though. These were tears of JOY. Knowing they have REALLY accomplished something, even after this whole ordeal.

In the end, all that time didn’t go to waste after all.

Marsh wanted to enjoy this moment. He really did. Yet, he still felt uneasy. Like, something else was happening behind their backs. He didn’t know what, but it didn’t feel right.

He looked below his feet, and off the edge of the HQ’s remaining glass was the ocean floor… and it was FRACTURED.

Now, the bunny didn’t know a whole lot about these kinds of things. Tweak would—she WAS an Octonaut so she KNEW the sea—but she wasn’t here, and whatever this was, it couldn’t be good.

It was probably an earthquake. An aftershock of March 30? Maybe, but there hadn’t been many, if any earthquakes here during then. Not to mention, others didn’t seem to mind, and the Octopod was still stable, so there was that.

What was it, the ranger thought. Was he hallucinating? Oh no, was he running out of oxygen? Probably, but after checking his Octo-Watch for a moment, it became obvious he was doing entirely fine.

And yet, the ground was still cracking.

Things were gonna get BAD.

“Hey, Ranger!” Natquik looked at him, smiling broadly. “Are you seeing this~? It’s… it’s stunning!” He’d beckon once or twice, before seeing the bunny’s big ears droop, as he just kept looking down and away from the Arctic fox.

Now THAT was unusual. Mermaids were one thing, yes, but seeing Marsh this… quiet? Emotionless? He was a pretty fun guy to be around, but right now he just… floated there.

“What… What's wrong?” The professor swam over to him. “W-why are you just… Why so quiet?”

It then clicked in the bunny’s mind. “Nat! Sorry I scared you, heh…” he HIMSELF blushed in embarrassment, before returning to a fearful expression. “I’m scared. I REALLY AM.”

“Easy now,” the fox would hold his paw. “What’s this about? What is it you’re looking at, that’s making you feel this way…?”

“THAT…” Marsh worryingly pointed right at the ground. Of course, there could be ANYTHING in there, so Natquik didn’t really understand what the bunny meant at first. Maybe there was a little creature that tried to bite him, or whatever.

As he looked left and right real quick, however, it became more clear as to what had triggered the ranger’s fears. And even worse, this kinda thing was reminiscent of something HE HIMSELF had gone through.

This was surrounding the entire Octopod. Was a sinkhole about to open up? Once more, the two didn’t know, but it spelled IMMINENT DANGER.

Not to mention… that blue-purple glow it emitted, AND the increasing temperature REALLY weren’t reassuring at all.

It was like… A LASER.

“Oh NO.” Natquik’s eyes got big. “Wait, I know who can help… PAANI! Over here!” He immediately called over for the macaque, whose attention was easily drawn. He eagerly waved at them, unaware of the situation., before putting himself between the bunny and the fox, his fins blanketing them both.

“Listen up, pancake!” Marsh would tell the manta ray. “You see that sand? There’s some kinda… thing going on, and it’s ABOUT TO GO BAD!”

“NOW, that’s a SIGHT!” Paani was astounded by the internal light show, before being given an awkward look by the two land dwellers.

“I mean, what makes you think it’s so bad anyways? It’s probably just a tunnel where those creatures came from-”

This was when the ground started to pulse, like a heart. Slowly, but it could be heard, and if it didn’t look bad, it CERTAINLY was now.

“OKAY, THAT’S IT!” Natquik shouted. “EVERYONE EVACUATE!”

The others had all heard him, at first a bit confused. Like he himself was, they didn’t understand it, before ANOTHER pulse came from below.

“Uh… did anyone feel that?” Kwazii would ask, only to let out a “YEOW!” after being pulled away by Barnacles, who, despite having no idea why he was instructed, believed Natquik more than greatly as he did for all his life.

It was best for others to follow, especially when the ground pulsed a THIRD time and glowed even more, resulting in the Octopod getting jostled around as a result. Everybody had to catch their bearings, before realizing their base had been turned UPRIGHT. And not at any other angle, no, this was a PERFECT 90 DEGREES. Normally, this would be a good thing, and it WAS, but… this wasn’t right.

“Wait, but what about…?!” Shellington tried calling out to the others, pointing at all the creatures inside. “We can’t just leave them here!”

“I’m sure it’s just a false alarm,” Peso would reply as he swam past the scientist. “It shouldn’t be too long!”

It wasn’t any use. You knew Barnacles and you trusted Barnacles. But THIS didn’t make any sense. Wasn’t the whole point of the Octonauts to EXPLORE? RESCUE?! PROTECT?!?!

Where were they going?

The otter was NOT going anywhere. He wanted to look after these guys, even in the midst of… whatever the ordeal was. He DID feel sorry for the other mermaids, seeing as he was ESSENTIALLY leaving everyone behind, INCLUDING KWAZII.

As he kept close to the HQ’s floor, he could hear the whispers of these little things. All of them, seemingly chanting something… some kinda name. What was this about? They didn’t seem bothered at all, did they? Surely they’d be aware of the danger themselves as well, but no, they just kept standing there like nothing was going on… continuing with their… ritual…? What was this?

Shellington tried to lend a hand, in hopes they’d climb on or something. He did have quite a long and sturdy tail too, so there was plenty of room for some of these smaller creatures. And yet they still didn’t budge… except for ONE little guy, who went up to his ear.

“We’ll be okay,” was all it said to him. As worried as the otter still was, he figured he’d have to let them go. If this was how things would be, then so be it. Besides, he couldn’t just leave Tunip—who looked over him—in the danger zone either.

Meanwhile, Pearl found it unbearable to watch her brother like this, before he IMMEDIATELY dashed out of there with the vegimal in his paws, faster… than an electronic rabbit. It was humiliating. It really was, and yet, Shellington—as well as the rest of the pod—loved the company of everyone in that reef and he didn’t want them getting hurt. No, never. And whilst he risked his OWN life, it was for others to save THEIRS. He’d apologize the moment he was in his sister’s proximity.

“FASTER, everyone!” Marsh would call out, “before it… IT… Uh…” He stopped. Perhaps everyone should calm down a little. Was it really as bad as he feared? Maybe it was entirely unrelated, to just be something entirely normal down here and not harmful at all.

He should’ve asked someone who KNEW about this thing. Someone who had past experience with these tremors. Someone who worked hard, day and night. Someone who meant so much to him…

Or, he could just ask Kwazii-

“TWEAK!” He gasped. With all his senses HOT, he immediately swam back towards the Octopod. “Stay back, y’all! I’ve gotta FIND HER!”

“Ranger, wait!” Natquik grabbed his arm. “If you go down there…”

“…Let me go down with YOU!”

To that, the bunny gave a bit of a smile, before the two, using their (inferior) legs, made a swim for the LAUNCH BAY. That’s where she’d always be, making sure the GUPs were in shipshape… most likely so since Kwazii couldn’t operate any.

Through the holes left days ago, Marsh squeezed his way in, trying to look for his daughter with great speed, only to conclude that, once again… she wasn’t there.

“C’mon… What is it?” He sighed. “Why can’t I just get a SINGLE MOMENT TO SEE HER AGAIN?! There’s gotta be something, SOMETHING going on…”

First it was the crash. Then it was getting here. And now everything was about to blow up. And yet, through all of this… No Tweak. Everyone was here, EXCEPT for Tweak.

She wasn’t dead, right? No, if she was, Barnacles would LET HIM KNOW. Which, he didn’t say anything explicitly about such, so that WAS a good sign.

“Please, Tweak…” he put his paws to his steam-covered helmet in despair. “Where ARE you?”

“Right behind ya, Pa.”

And THERE SHE WAS. Exactly how Marsh expected, maybe BETTER than before.

He was just at a loss of words. He swam towards her and gave her a big hug, relieved that she was doing well as always. Probably not even aware of the inbound eruption. Just enjoying herself, as hinted by her dark green eel tail.

“Sorry I didn’t speak up any earlier,” the engineer said with a hint of awkwardness. “I’ve been working a LOT since, and that’s taken up quiiite a lot of my schedule…”

That was totally logical. Though, for how proud Marsh was of Tweak for all that hard work, she DESERVED a BIG break, now that she was like this, as he thought with all honesty.

“Well, uh, do you have more things to do… in here?” He’d kindly ask, just trying to ignore his impending doom, but Natquik was silently panicking in the background, and THAT was concerning his daughter a little.

“Can’t say I do, but no worries, Pa.” Tweak replied with a hug and without hesitation. “You’ve been on my mind the WHOLE time. MY mind~!”

Now that was something the ranger was happy to hear. Of course he was on her mind, but getting that reaffirmation was always comforting. It made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside, just like with his favorite Arctic fox.

But then, he remembered the whole thing going on around him. Natquik was outside, calling for him to “get out of there”, and the water wasn’t just warm—it was HOT, like a bowl of ramen!

“Hmm, my oxygen’s getting a little low now,” Marsh kept in a light mood, rubbing the fog off his helmet. “Why don’t head back to shore and talk all about it, alright?”

Tweak eagerly nodded, figuring it was all for the better anyways. To get to spend that long-awaited time was all she wanted at this very moment.

As the two would make their way out of the base, the ground below SLOWLY started to cave inwards, and the sand was getting everywhere. Tweak quickly covered her face until it settled, which was only a few seconds down, before rapidly looking back and seeing what had happened.

“Uh, is that supposed to happen?” Marsh also looked back with a chuckle, before catching sight of Natquik swimming towards him in panic. He was already following the bunnies, but he WAS caught off guard, despite being just as excellent in swimming as the ranger was.

“I knew it wasn’t going to be good!” The fox shouted out, as he tried doggy paddling his way to the coast. It wasn’t very effective, his arms and legs were getting tired, and he even feared he’d drown here. The panicking had drained his energy and in this kind of thing there was no time to replenish it.

Marsh was about to turn back to try and reach him, until another figure snatched Natquik by the paw and darted past the bunnies like nothing. Tweak, a little shocked, recognized who it was almost immediately.

“Oi! Ya think the coast is close~?” Ryla laughed joyously, giving the old fox a pat on the back. “C’mon, Tweak, let’s get these blokes some fresh air RIGHT NOW. Gotta take a breather, because I reckon we’ve all been flat out for SOME time now!”

Tweak was taken a little by surprise, but she eagerly accepted, grabbing Marsh by one hand and the wombat by the other. From there, they’d RAPIDLY breach the water, despite the heavy load from all 3 of the critters the former cave diver dealt with.

The 4 all floated on the surface, not sure what to do at this point. More than likely, the rest of the crew had already made it to Isla Guadalupe, or at least got MUCH closer than they were right now.

“So, uh, mates.” Ryla looked at the others, perplexed. “Is that it? Are we just stopping here?”

No answer. Just… just waiting here. Was anyone else aware? Definitely, but oh well.

“Well, uh, that’s what I wanna know,” Marsh shrugged. “Is it NOT happening, or are we, like, out of the blast radius?”

“…W-well,” Tweak stuttered a little. “I think we’re going to be completely okay, right guys?”

“Right, guys?”

BOOOOOOOM!

…And then, it all unfolded before their very eyes.

#mermaid au #mermaid #octonauts #alternate universe #octonauts au #octonauts mermaid au #reclaimed by nature #meomi

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plushii-gutz · 9 months

Text

Yep, part 9 of RnR. I'm not sure what to put here, lmao

ֶ֢︶︶֪︶︶֪︶︶֪︶︶֪︶ིྀ︶︶֪︶︶֪︶︶֪︶︶֪︶

Daylight began to roll back into the distant trees, the sun laying cozy in their deep green leaves. How had the time passed so quickly? Lunch didn't seem that long ago. Hell, Attmoz still carried the bag of chips everyone shared. It was as big as a pillow when they first got it - definitely party-size!

He rested in the grass of the front yard now, still munching on the snack and wiping his fingers clean on his scarf, Syncopite nearby occasionally stealing a chips for themself. Glaishur laid on his back, watching the clouds pass as his partner shifted their shapes into critters and familiar faces. The group has been at this for at least an hour now, enjoying the fresh air and cozy light, but Glaishur wasn't sure what a few of the shapes were. Some sort of reptilian monster? His partner said it was a stogg - a monster he saw while on Amber. Glaishur wondered if he would ever be able to travel like they had. The circumstances have certainly changed. Furnoss sat with them, seeming impressed by Attmoz's work.

"This is neat," the fire monster commented, looking past Glaishur. "How long have you been able to do this?"

"Um.. dunno," he shrugged.

"Oh.. well, what about the wing-thing you did back on Amber Island?"

"The what?'

"You made like.. wings out of clouds and use them to fly. Do you not remember?"

"What are you talking about?"

"He can't remember," Glaishur chimed in.

"The thing that happened with Galvana? Oh yeah, not a clue what happened. I was all kinds of fucked up, man."

"We know, 'moz."

Furnoss tilted his head, looking back to the sky.

"Monsters are weird," the cold celestial spoke again.

"Life is weird," Furnoss added.

"Yeah.. I can't believe we ended up here."

"Hm?"

"Like.. here. On Plant Island. Gettin' out of that old cramped castle, the old island. It just doesn't feel.. right."

"It's a big change. We did meet a lot of very nice monsters, though, and there's plenty more space."

Attmoz hopped to his feet, saying he'll be back. The chip bag was empty, and he'd be damned if he were to litter. Syncopite tagged along, the two joking as they walked off into the distance.

"I know," Glaishur spoke up again, "but.. I can't really explain. I think there's somethin' wrong with my mind."

Furnoss inched closer, intending on listening to the others words.

"I don't mean t' sound.. rude or nothin'.. but when we lived back on our old island, I would always wish for a better home. I'd wish for Lood' to be happier, for you to be happier, for everyone t' just.. stop fighting all th' time. And now no one fights, and it feels.. wrong."

"Wrong?" Furnoss repeated.

"It isn't wrong - I know it's better! Everyone is better. I think.. it's me who feels wrong. Furnoss, Can I tell you somethin' weird?"

"Of course. What is it?"

"When I died in that fire.. I don' think I died. I mean, I did, but I wasn't.. dead. I was in some sorta.. waiting room. There was snow everywhere. Trees faded when I got too close. The moon was always out - it was real blue, too. The snow was deep. It cut my skin when I walked. I couldn't feel anything but hurt."

Glaishur sat up, plucking blades of grass and leaves from his hair. Hopefully, there weren't any bugs crawling around in it. The other monster with him was visibly riddled with worry.

"And I didn't feel dead. Just.. dissociated. It scares me 'cause I kinda feel like that now. And.. it makes me feel like you're not really here. That Attmoz's isn't here. The kids aren't here either. I know they are, but.. I don' feel like you are. Furnoss.. is that where monsters go when they die?"

"I.. I don't know," he answered honestly.

Furnoss helped Glaishur to his feet, helping clean off a few more bits of the nature that tangled itself within his fur.

"I wish I could tell you. I really do. But we're not like the other monsters - we're Celestials. Everything we do is different than what's 'normal' for everyone else, even death. At least, I would assume such. You can ask Strombonin. I'm sure they would have an answer if anyone else. But.. I'm here. You're here, too. I don't know how much my words help, but even a little bit would be an accomplishment."

The purple monster held a small, yellow dandelion in his hands, looking over its soft petals and green stem. He noticed the very, very light weight it had and its bare scent. Maybe it is real. He placed the flower in his hair along with the many others that Scaratar or Blasoom had already added, soon hearing the grass nearby crunching with approaching steps. It was Attmoz, no longer accompanied by Syncopite but instead Torrt. The little monster carried a box of graham crackers, visibly excited.

"Hey, Frosty! G'joob wanted to show us a couple tricks - something about camping? I wasn't paying too much attention, heh. Wanna tag along? You too, Smokey."

Furnoss gave a small grin at the new nickname. Glaishur gladly accepted, marching through the grass with his friends by his side.

Yawstrich and Strombonin had gathered a plentiful of large rocks, creating a short cylinder shape with them on the grass and lining the bottom with a decent amount of smaller stones. G'joob came into sight not long after the four arrived, followed by the remaining monsterlings, who each carried three or four sticks. They're instructed to drop them within the pit the other Mythicals had made, which they promptly do with Yawstrich assisting proper placement.

"Alright," G'joob said with a wheeze, worn out from the simple task of keeping the many kids in one group. "This part is dangerous.. ugh. Strombonin, ya mind takin' over?"

"You must promise never to do this unassisted by an older monster," the cold Mythical stepped forward. "I'm sure you are aware of its dangers, but I would like to reinforce that it is not a toy to be played with."

Attmoz bit his lip to keep himself from commenting. Glaishur's quick look probably shut him up, too. Strombonin looked through the many fallen branches, taking one with dried, gray leaves and holding it under a lighter provided by Yawstrich. The flame spread onto the leaves, the branch. Strombonin rested it within the pit they had built, allowing the fire to grow and spiral upwards. Then it settled. A healthy medium had been met, its fierceness being kept within the set barriers.

The mythical looked to his celestial counterpart, acknowledging his expression and body language. Glaishur seemed a bit off but not afraid. Attmoz moved his hand a bit as an offering to his partner, who took it. Assured by Attmoz's actions, Strombonin continued.

"One of ya got the Graham crackers, right?" G'joob took back the lead.

"Me!" Torrt answered. They hopped forward, offering the box of goods. The other took this, adding it to the marshmallows and chocolate that sat to the side.

"Alright, now we need.. sharper sticks. Yawstrich and I can do this part."

"We can?" The feathered monster asked. "Oh! We can!"

Furnoss offered his assistance, which is gladly accepted. The three look through the remaining branches, using blades to clean and sharpen the ends of each. Glaishur left Attmoz behind, pulling Strombonin aside to speak. Furnoss gives them space, encouraging Attmoz to do the same. As much as he wanted to follow, he agreed.

The two left for the other side of the castle. Glaishur wasn't exactly sure where he was walking, but he hoped it was far enough that no one would hear.

"Uh. Strombonin?"

"How can I help, Glaishur?"

"I have questions 'bout.. s-some really weird stuff, and I don't know who else t' go to."

With a shaky breath, the celestial went on to explain what he had prior to Furnoss. He spoke of the increasingly cold snow, the purple tinted sky, everlasting night, and disappearing trees. They nodded along to every word, almost as if they connected every dot.

"You described it as a waiting room - that is technically correct. However, not every monster experiences these after death. Only Celestials, as far as im aware. Though, I do think Wublins, another species of monster, experience a similar dormancy. This room is where your spirit resides until your body is able to sustain itself once again."

The mythical settled himself down, having Glaishur do the same.

"Life and death in the monster world is.. complicated. It saddens me to know you had to experience it yourself. Let's see.. if a monster within the mortal category dies, their spirit lives past their body. That spirit can wander the living world depending on its.. situation. But typically, they move on."

"To where?" Glaishur asked.

"An afterlife. We don't know what's on the other side, as it varies among monsters' beliefs. We do know for certain that there is a middle - a sort of gateway."

Strombonin seemed a bit worried with the topic in his mind.

"It's known as The Muted Area, In between life and death and acting as a doorway. Though, if I recall correctly, it was held up by energy provided by the spark of life - Galvana's elemental ability. Their powers are strong, and I have no doubts that the relm is easily accessible, but from your experience, I dont believe celestials have that.. but I'm getting off the topic at hand. The way you celestials live and die is vastly different from anyone else. Your fear is understandable, and your worry for other monsters is appreciated as usual, but I promise you there is nothing to fear. If anything is to happen to you or the other celestials, we have the resources to correct everything."

"What about other monsters? Can 'Vana bring them back, too?"

"That is.. different. Yes, one may have the ability to, but it isn't to be used unethically. The world runs along a circular path of day and night. There's many other properties to this, but I think it would be best to discuss it when you're older."

Glaishur nodded. He had more questions than answers but felt as if he had spoken enough. The mythical helped him to his feet, leading the way back to the playing group.

The younger of the monsters held marshmallows on sticks over the edge of the flaming pit, Furnoss making sure none caught fire and helping them put together a new treat. Attmoz hopped back, shaking around a burning marshmallow until it fell onto the grass. Syncopite stomped it out, laughing at his misfortune.

"Ya gotta work on timing, cloud man!"

"Ok, well, It looked undercooked."

"It.. it was on fire for a solid minute."

"Oh look, Glaishur's back!"

Attmoz, whether it was an attempt to change the subject or simply an odd expression of affection, scooped Glaishur off his feet and dropped him over with the rest of the monsters. As shocked as the cold celestial was at the sudden lift, he didn't mind it all too much. He did question where the strength came from, though not out loud.

Attmoz began to explain to Glaishur how to make a s'more. It was relatively simple, just toasting the marshmallow over the fire and sandwiching it between some graham crackers and chocolate. Vhamp and Blasoom ran past the two, trying to start up a game. Glaishur promised to join in eventually.

The edge of the purple monster's marshmallow had only started to turn a soft gold before he pulled back, shaking himself off. Furnoss moved closer, worried.

"Is something wrong?" He asked. He knew fire wasn't something the other was all too fond of.

"No," Glaishur sighed. "It's.. It's just a bit hot. I don' think I can stand too close to it."

It seems to be the truth. What remained of Glaishur's thick fur kept him a bit too warm in general, but the addition of his hoodie added just too much padding on certain parts. He stepped back, having to cool off. Vhamp trotted to his side, offering to start up the game of pretend - pretend camping! Unfortunately, they didn't want to stray too far from the light source - it was getting darker by the minute.

"Maybe tomorrow," Glaishur sighed. Disappointed, the mech monsterling left to begin the game with someone else. He felt bad, but even the younger of the Celestials understood. He was a bit lost in thought, though watching them run off with Furnoss was a bit sweet. It wasn't long until he was joined by another monster. He was surprised to see Scaratar instead of Attmoz.

"Are you ok, Glaishur?" She asked. "Why did you leave?"

"I'm alright, Scar'. Just needed t' step back."

"Oh. Can I ask why?"

"It's jus' too hot around th' fire with everyone else. I guess the hoodie's a bit too thick."

Scaratar circled Glaishur for a moment, looking him over.

"You could take it off," she suggested. Glaishur paused.

"I don' really want to," he spoke softly.

"Why not?"

"I.. You know the incident back at th' castle left me really.. patchy. And my fur ain't gunna grow back. It doesn't look all too good."

"Says who?" She said with a bit of sass.

"..says me. I can't fix it, either."

"There isn't anything to fix, Glaishur! I mean, yeah, the hoodie and sweaters look nice, but I like you."

The poison monster had Glaishur crouch to her height, making sure he listened.

"You know.. You're more than what happened back at our old home - and you're definitely more than your patches! They just remind us how much you cared about everyone, and I think they're nice."

The cold monsters eye searched for something to say. How had Scaratar seen through everything?

"It's ok if you aren't ready yet," she assured. "I can't do a lot to change how you see yourself, but I can let you know how everyone else does - we love you the same."

Glaishur looked between her and himself. He nodded, letting her know he would think about it. After a quick hug, Scaratar left to join the others. She carried a few twigs back with her, adding them to the fire and asking if she could make another s'more. Attmoz offered his help, chatting a bit as he did so.

"I'm guessing you talked with Glaish?" He would ask.

"Yeah. He just needs time. Why didn't you talk to him?"

" 'cuz he already knows what I'd say. Maybe I'm looking into it too much, but he'd probably think I'm biased - and yeah, a little bit, but I wanted him to hear someone besides me remind him that he's-"

"It's on fire."

"Fuck!"

G'joob came along, putting out the flaming marshmallow in time for it to still be relatively edible and mushing it between some graham crackers and chocolate. Scaratar munched away, having enjoyed the little show she got with her treat. Practice makes perfect, Attmoz reminded himself. Again, with the marshmallows. He tries again. Hopefully, they'll have another bag to spare.

Hornacle joined the air monster's side, having a hard time keeping up with the rest as they ran in circles. He didn't mind, of course, asking if there was anything they would like to do instead.

"We could go inside if ya want. Maybe pick out some of the coloring books you got not too long ago, yeah?"

Hornacle hopped up, running off.

"Well damn, I didn't think you'd hate the idea that much."

They didn't run far, hopping in one spot. Attmoz walked to their side, noticing Glaishur coming into view.

He had his hoodie tossed over his shoulder, no longer using it to cover himself. He stood still for a moment, waiting for Hornacle's response. The monsterling quit the jumping, giving Glaishur a look over. Then they began to hop again, excited. Glaishur was back!

The rest began to turn up, having similar reactions. They didn't seem to really notice. Attmoz couldn't help but grin, taking off his scarf and tossing it aside.

"Welcome back, Snowball. Want a s'more?"

"Yeah, but I'm makin' it. I see ya burnin' everything!"

"It's artistic liberty."

"What does that mean?"

"I dunno."

Strombonin gave a nod of approval as the two finally managed to melt the marshmallows and not set anything on fire. Furnoss seemed rather proud as well, though as to what specifically can not be told.

Hours of play pass as the sun finally disappeared. Most of the Mythicals had left for the night, Strombonin remaining as he always had. They made sure to put the fire out, also cleaning up any trash that had fallen into the grass. A handful of the monsterlings had to be carried in and sorted into their designated rooms, having stood up far past their usual schedule and lacked their constant energy. Of course, Galvana protested as always, but it wasn't anything they couldn't handle.

Glaishur had slipped his hoodie back on. It wasn't out of fear of being seen, but simply because it was comfortable. He already chewed one of the strings to a threaded mess, though, so hopefully, they'll find a way to replace that.

Strombonin settled with Strombone in the living room, having drifted off to sleep already. The rest of the castle joined shortly, tired after the long day.

ֶ֢︶︶֪︶︶֪︶︶֪︶︶֪︶ིྀ︶︶֪︶︶֪︶︶֪︶︶֪

Furnoss shifted uncomfortably. Something was making noise outside. Attmoz better not be sneaking out again. As much as he didn't want to, the fire celestial left his slumber to check.

The hallway was empty. As far as he could tell, no one had left their rooms. Furnoss moved to the door, listening carefully to the outside world. He was sent back, scared by a knock. Why would anyone be here so late? Perhaps one of the Mythicals returned. Furnoss opened the door, taking a look put before opening it all the way.

"Oh!" He gasped, moving back.

"It's..it's been a while," Furnoss stuttered. He already felt a chilling in his chest.

"It has been, hasn't it?" Loodvigg muttered.

The silence felt awful. The environment felt awful. Before him stood the very monster he feared most.

"Furnoss, we need to talk."

"Oh, do we."

The shadow monster stood aside, allowing Furnoss to exit the door. His eyes flickered between the castle and Loodvigg. The kids were safe. Strombonin made sure of that. He and Loodvigg would be away from their home. Everything should be ok. Furnoss agreed to leave. If anything were to happen, he is assured it wouldn't be anyone but himself. Furnoss left the castle.

They walked alongside one another, following the same trail through the woods that led up to the old building. He had forgotten how awful the exterior looked. At least it kept most monsters away. Most. The two walked the stone path, following it down to a paved sidewalk. It was incredibly late, and it seemed that most of Plant Islands residents have left to their homes to sleep. Maybe the walk would be ever so slightly easier.

The sky was painted with speckled white stars across an ink black canvas, a few deep gray clouds still visible. The grass almost seemed orange against the streetlights. The air smelled fresh, and the island still sung of the critters chattering. If only Furnoss could feel calm. Loodvigg walked with its arms behind its back, silver eyes to the ground. They drew in a long breath.

"Furnoss. I had been.. terrible. Horrid. Vile. I have no proper words to describe my actions. I will never be able to fix what I had broken. It took death itself to make me aware."

They turned to make eye contact with the fire monster, who seemed to be riddled with questions. It was expected.

"During the fire, all that time ago. I lost my life in the wreckage. We as celestials are unable to die - we just fall dormant. Our consciousness move to.. a world between life and death. A limbo, I may say."

Loodvigg remembered the relm very well. It could recall the missing ground, only walking on smoke. The sky had been gray, the moon a deep red, the many yellowed webs he was able to rest upon that dangled from twisted trees.

"It was an odd world to step into. I wasn't anywhere, but I was everywhere. It wasn't long until I realized I hadn't been alone. I encountered a.. strange being, to say the least. They were simply known as Ghazt. During my stay, Ghazt had spoken with me. They told me that they were a monster of interdimensional powers. An Ethereal, to be exact. Similar to the Mythicals, whom they taught me of, they had been unaware of our survival after the fall of Starhenge. They had suspicions, however, as they visited these 'waiting rooms' often in an attempt to find our departed souls."

"I'd say I don't believe you," Furnoss shook his head, "But stranger things have happened."

"Indeed they have. During my time there, Ghazt spoke to me of many things. They learned quickly of my.. mistakes. They intervened quickly, too. Initially, I had wanted nothing to do with it, being the monster I was, but we had until the end of time itself to talk. And so we did. Days upon days of talking. I had been so stubborn, but they dug into me like stone. Chipped away at who I was."

Loodvigg stopped to pull Furnoss's attention back to itself.

"I'll get to the point. After having been revived, knowingly by accident, I had entered myself into a multi-step program for monsters like.. me. I want to be a better monster for myself and for others. I have been attending for only a week, but I plan to continue until I am suitable for your environment."

"My- my environment?" Furnoss stuttered. "What do you mean by that?"

Their walking came to a stop, Furnoss barely visible in the night apart from the glowing embers within his body. Loodvigg reached forward, cupping the fire celestials hand in his.

"Furnoss.. I want for us to be as we had been before. I miss those years so, so much. I'm willing to do anything to bring them back. You deserve help. The others deserve help. How else could I ever repay you?"

The fire celestial ripped his hand back with a sharp "no!" To Loodvigg's words.

"..no?" They echoed.

"I.. I didn't mean to yell.. but no."

Furnoss cleaned the fur of his face, carefully choosing his next words with a deep breath. It was hard to see anyone but the monster he once loved before him, but he knew It was just a monster now. A once horrible monster. But maybe a better one.

"I know you're working on yourself. I know you're trying to change. But our relationship is no longer my priority. The kids are."

Their eyes met once more. He held a stern gaze that had been missing for so long.

"They're beginning to recognize everything that had happened. Everything I say, everything I do - it will all affect them. They're realizing what we had gone through, and they know what you have done, too. Loodvigg, I would love to give everything a second chance, but I need to protect them."

The shadow monster's eyes held little words as they pondered their reaction. It made sense for the kids to be their priority, any monster would. It was Furnoss's choice, and he knew to respect it.

"Alright," it spoke. "I will continue attending the meetings. I promise not to interfere with you or the little ones anymore."

"I'm not saying never."

Furnoss moved himself back into Loodvigg's field of vision.

"Just.. we'll see. Ok? We'll see."

Something deep inside those silver eyes had come back. Furnoss held the side of Loodvigg's head, letting himself relax.

"I missed you."

"I missed you too, dear."

"How.. how did you find us?"

Loodvigg opened its mouth to speak, only to be cut off by another voice.

"I told hiiiiim!" The voice sung. A ghostly figure came into view, having shielded itself in invisibility. It seemed to be the same purple creature that had passed them within the hospital.

"That.. that is Ghazt," the shadow monster sighed. They were annoyed, clearly.

"That's the name!"

"You told me this would be private," Loodvigg spoke with a hiss.

"Well, it seemed like it, didn't it? No, no, I'm required to be by your side as an emotional support friend and to monitor your behavior! I'd say you did excellent just now!"

"Marvelous. Furnoss, this is Ghazt. Ghazt, Furnoss."

Ghazt circled the two, joking about their height and ages. Did today mark their billions of years alive? Who knows!

Loodvigg offered a hand, which Furnoss was yet to accept. He didn't want to. Loodvigg lowered it.

"I'll have you home by morning," They promised.

"I'll give you an hour at most. This is.. a lot to take in. I don't know if I can trust you yet. I'll give you this chance, but only once more."

"It's more than I deserve, really."

"It is. Don't mess up."

Now, with Ghazt spectating the two, Furnoss and Loodvigg continued on their walking, talking trip down a new road. Neither knew where it would lead, but they knew it were someplace new. Only time would tell.

#fallen stars msm #my singing monsters #fallen stars au #msm #fanfiction #msm au #the last bit with Glaishur was a bit personal 🤭

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burnwater13 · 9 months

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Grogu had been pretty darn hungry and the tentacle soup had smelled delicious. That it was going to fight him every step of the way was not something he’d been expecting. But hunger can make even the most mild mannered of people do things they wouldn’t do otherwise.

Grogu knew that the Mandalorian wasn’t always a fan of his food choices. Fresh frogs eaten whole? Dung worms eaten at all? Gorgs fried in battered and dipped in some sort of non-hot sauce? Yup, Grogu’s choices baffled the Mandalorian.

Din Djarin seemed to be a regular devotee to stuff like rations. Yech. Rations had all the things a human needed, certainly. And Grogu supposed if they were smothered in hot sauce no one could tell that they were mostly made from synthetic proteins and vegetables. Blech.

Okay, okay. Other people had a moral issue with eating the proteins of living creatures. To which Grogu offers this counterpoint, vegetables had been living once. Technically, most of them were still living when you ate them. Still alive. Just like the frogs. So if that’s the problem, relax.

Ah, the whole synthetic thing. Well those atoms of carbon, oxygen, hydrogen and nitrogen came from somewhere. They weren’t just pulled out of the vacuum of space. But fine. Different nutrient requirements for different critters, right? Rancors didn’t really care much about where their proteins came from as long as they were plentiful. Too bad they couldn’t operate the equipment to make the synthetic kind, but that’s the way the galaxy worked.

Now, let’s move on to the real issue. The important consideration. Just how the heck did folks decide what to eat to begin with? Who was the first person to look at the great oceans on Trask and say, ‘Ooo. Look at that thing with all those tentacles. They’re a bit stringy looking, but I bet they’re delicious!’ Grogu wanted to meet them and have a little chat.

Sure the tentacle soup was actually delicious and when the things stopped wiggling he was much happier about having eaten them. Ah, yes, that’s right. They didn’t stop wiggling just because he had sucked them down to his stomach. It took a little time. Like it does with the frogs. So his question for that first person was simple. Why?

Did that critter look delicious? Grogu doesn’t think so. It looks… too energetic. Did they notice how it kept moving after they cooked it? That’s not usually a good sign. Or did they decide to not cook it but just plunge it in a really hot broth because that would make it smell better? Grogu has smelled them when they are pulled out of the ocean and that is not a delicious smell. Not in the least.

But let’s leave aside the whole tentacle monster soup thing and look at some other stuff people ate. Like Jorgan fruit. Again, why? Did they see some other critter eat it and decide it was okay? Grogu was baffled. The fruit was green and pretty solid and it had seeds in it.

Now that had actually been pretty fun. If you collected the seeds carefully enough you could use them as a kind of projectile and play a game of skill with anyone you shared them with. The Mandalorian had scolded him about that when he and Peli were having a contest to see who could hit the pit droids the most often during a stop over on Tatooine. But Grogu still considered that an appropriate use of the seeds on a planet like Tatooine. You didn’t want to plant them somewhere they didn’t belong. Imagine the problems that would cause!

Grogu considered that to be one of the problems with vegetables. People brought them everywhere and they grew! That was such a mistake. Better things could be growing there. And then the critters that ate the vegetables would start tasting like them.

Plus, vegetables didn’t have seeds on the inside. They didn’t reproduce that way. But that also meant that they weren’t any fun in a contest of skill, like the Jorgan fruit seeds were. That’s right, fruits were better than veggies. At least that’s how Grogu saw it.

The only thing that made him wonder if he was taking the whole vegetable thing too seriously is that he had found out that another Jedi didn’t like veggies either. That Jedi had fallen to the dark side. Grogu didn’t know if it was cause and effect or just a red flag (700 nm), but it was worth considering.

It was true that veggies had nutrients. They lasted a long time in storage. They could be made into funny shapes. And other than their flavor, he really didn’t hold anything else against them. They certainly didn’t try to grab your nose or poke into your ears or play play games in your stomach. They were pretty selfless. And they all tasted better when they were mashed and covered with meat proteins (however you came by them).

Grogu supposed, that once in a great while, maybe after he was attacked by the critter in a bowl of soup or stew or broth, that he could switch to mashed veggies just for a change of pace and to help him appreciate that food probably shouldn’t fight you.

#calendar prompt a day #the mandalorian #grogu #din djarin

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glazedtrash721 · 11 months

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My Autodesk Sketchbook is being a bit of a butt and is practically begging me to throw it an extremely long distance, so while that's the case, please take this little sneak peak of another Welcome Home AU that I have in the works!

This AU is called...

Forest Folk AU!

I thought of this AU while thinking about the folk music that I have in one of my Spotify playlists, and I don't remember seeing anything too similar to this before, so here you go!

In this AU, the neighbors are all combined with different creatures that are either from folklore/fantasy/mythology, are inspired by said creatures, or are just little forest critters that you may also find in a ren fair!

The first few characters are under the cut, but I'll be sure to post the rest soon!

Here are the first few characters and their descriptions!

These guys are colorless for now, but I'll give them color soon!

Here is this AU's Wally! I thought that it would be fitting to make him a charming and gentle Faun, which are the pretty people with deer legs! He has the closest bond with Home, which I plan on making a big ol' tree that controls part of the forest that these guys live in. This kinda makes him a sort of protector of Home, and he's protective of the other critters that call Home their... well... home. He can also turn into a deer, and he does this to be able to go into the town near by with little suspicion, as well as to travel quickly and to scare off people sometimes!

Next is Barnaby! In this AU, he is inspired by the creature titled Cù-Sith, which is a big ol' hound made of grass found in Celtic folklore. Barnaby is a lot less scary and hateful than this creature, but he is still a little gruff and intimidating with new people, though he becomes much nicer as one warms up to him! He is still besties with Wally of course, and he is surprisingly comfy to lay on! (That is, if you don't mind the feeling of grass!)

Next up to bat is Frank! He is half human and half butterfly fairy, which I found fitting! He lives in a town that is near Home, and he uses some of his fairy magic to hide his fairy-ness from the townsfolk, lest he get chastised or even killed. He is still in slight denial of his fairy lineage, but it's kinda hard to completely deny this with his large, pretty butterfly wings. Frank's wings are likely too light to let him fly, although they do sparkle in the sunlight, which is very pretty! Frank still loves studying butterflies, although he is also interested in folklore!

Eddie looks kinda small in this drawing, but he is certainly not small in reality! Him being a centaur not only makes him pretty big, but it also helps him greatly when he is delivering mail! Two extra legs really do wonders for traveling, that's for sure! Also, with his horse body being based off of most work horses, Eddie is a pretty tough and resilient dude, although he is still very humble about his strength and ability. Although, even with four legs, this kind mailman still manages to be clumsy, sometimes forgetting his size and strength. Oops!

Of course, there are still more characters to come for this AU! I just need to finish a couple designs yet and I will be sure to post them!

Also, feel free to add these dudes to your own work! Just be sure that the content they're in is not NSFW in the sexual way, and a little credit is always appreciated! Other than that, go wild!

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thelastspeecher · 2 years

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Monster Falls AU - Pheromones, Pt. I

Pt. II

Yes, part one! I was originally going to post two different scenes together, but then the scenes wound up being longer than I planned, so I decided to split into two posts. Also, I’m getting impatient and just want to post something! It’s been a couple weeks since I posted a write and I’ve been getting that itch. Anyways, enough about me. Here’s some magical critters.

———————————————————————————————————–

Stan landed behind the cabin. He didn’t completely stick the landing, stumbling a bit as he tried to get used to his new size and new everything else. Thankfully, no one was around to watch him get back to his feet.

Should I shout for them? Nah, they definitely heard me. When Stan had landed, the moment was accompanied by a loud boom. Sure enough, within a few moments of his arrival, someone poked their head out of the back door.

“Sssssstanley?”

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite snake-lady,” Stan said jovially. Angie slithered up to Stan, her eyes wide with fascination. “Whattaya think?”

“Yer a dragon,” Angie whispered. Stan grinned.

“Sure am.” The back door opened again. Fiddleford and Ford both exited the cabin and joined Angie. “Hey, nerds.”

“Stanley, you’re- you’re a dragon!” Ford exclaimed, delighted. Stan nodded. “This is- this is remarkable! I had my suspicions that you might be a draconic creature of some sort, but I didn’t expect you to become a fully-fledged traditional European dragon.”

“You’re gonna get lots of ‘data’ off me, aren’t you?” Stan teased. Ford beamed.

“I certainly will, yes. Data I would struggle to get otherwise. Dragons are very…antisocial creatures. Not only do they typically live in isolated areas, but they rarely respond well to strangers visiting them.” Ford frowned. “Did…did you fly here?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“How?”

“I got wings, don’t I?” Stan said. He spread the aforementioned batlike wings, slightly darker than his maroon scales, wide. Ford rolled his eyes.

“Yes, yes, I can see your wings. But you’ve had a crippling fear of heights our entire lives!” he said. Stan’s heart suddenly leapt to his throat. “It’s an unexpected silver lining to your transformation, that it has finally rid you of your lifelong phobia.”

“I flew here,” Stan whispered. His wings folded up again as he tried not to cringe. Images of his flight to the cabin flashed in his mind, filling him with terror. “I was- I was I don’t know how high up in the air, the entire time!” Ford sighed.

“I take it you have not overcome your fear of heights after all,” he said. Stan shook his head.

“No, I still…respect them,” he said. Ford rolled his eyes. “I guess I sorta went on autopilot to get here.” He looked over his shoulder at the mountains looming in the distance. “No clue how I’m gonna get back.”

“Ya won’t fly back?” Angie asked. Stan shook his head again. She grimaced. “Oof. That’ll be a long walk.”

“Now that you have the ability to fly, we really must work on your fear of heights,” Ford said. Stan scowled at him. “Do you want the wings you’re so proud of to go to waste?”

“…No,” Stan mumbled.

“Exactly,” Ford said with a nod. He turned to Fiddleford, who had been completely silent the entire time. “Do you have any thoughts?” Fiddleford grunted wordlessly.

“Really? Not a sssssssingle hambone fer him?” Angie asked her older brother. “I think he dessssservesssss ssssssssome sssssssorta comment after undergoin’ a transsssssformation asssssss thorough assssss thissss, then unintentionally defyin’ a cripplin’ phobia to get here.” Fiddleford grunted again, making Angie sigh. She turned her attention back to Stan. “Do ya mind if I…?” she said hesitantly, reaching out. Her hand hovered an inch or so above Stan’s scales.

“Go for it, toots,” Stan said. Angie gently placed her hand on him. Her eyes widened even further.

“Wow.” She ran her hand along Stan’s side, gently caressing his shimmering, scaly hide. Stan felt himself shiver at the touch. From the first day, he had been interested in Angie. That attraction had only increased as she became more and more alluring every day. Now, she seemed almost completely irresistible.

At least it’s mutual. Angie’s eyes traveled over the entire of his body, staring at his brilliant scales with an expression Stan recognized. Lust. Can’t blame her. I got a look at myself in the lakes I flew over. I’m a damn attractive dragon.

“Ah, Angie, you might want to be careful,” Ford said. Angie looked over at him.

“Sssssstan won’t hurt me,” she said firmly.

“That’s not what I’m concerned about. Quite frankly, I’m worried about the opposite,” Ford said. Stan huffed impatiently, smoke puffing from his nostrils.

“Spit it out,” he rumbled.

“Naga breeding season is in the spring, and-”

“Oh, Lord,” Angie said, throwing her hands into the air. “Thisssssss again?”

“Yes, this again,” Ford said firmly. “Reptilian magical creatures are incredibly vulnerable to naga pheromones, which are secreted constantly and at astronomical levels during breeding season. The strength of naga pheromones can even counteract a magical creature’s typical breeding cycle. Stanley, exposure to Angie during this time could make you virile, though dragons typically breed in the autumn.”

“Make me what?” Stan asked.

“Virile. The male equivalent to fertile.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Stan said, trying to keep up. “You’re saying that dragons can’t have kids unless it’s fall.”

“Yes.”

“But being around Angie might make me able to have a kid when it’s not fall?”

“Correct.”

“Oh, ssssssssson of a-” Angie muttered, crossing her arms. “I don’t ssssssssecrete pheromonessssss!”

“On the contrary,” Ford said. He adjusted his glasses. “I have been running aerosol analyses on you every day. The numbers do not lie. When you first transformed, you were producing pheromones, albeit at low levels. As time has gone on, the levels have increased. Yesterday, they were literally off the charts.” Angie’s eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“I’d like to ssssssssssee thisssssssss data of yourssssssss,” she said. “Make sssssssure ya didn’t make ssssssssome sssssssort of missssstake.”

“Be my guest,” Ford said, waving a hand airily. “But you’ll find no such mistake, and as such, until your breeding season has ended and your pheromone levels drop, I would recommend restricting how much time you spend with Stan.”

“You think we can’t control ourssssssssselvessssssss,” Angie said flatly.

“I’m not saying that.”

“No, you are,” Stan said. “We’re not animals, Sixer.”

“Technically-” Ford started.

“You know what I meant. We’re not gonna knock boots just ‘cause Angie’s making sex gas or whatever,” Stan said dismissively. Angie and Fiddleford both made strangled noises.

“Look. I’m not saying the two of you will copulate against your better judgement, due to Angie’s pheromones,” Ford said. Angie scoffed.

“Ssssssssssure ssssssssoundsssssss like it.”

“But the chances of that happening are higher than usual until Angie leaves naga breeding season. And should the two of you give in to your…animalistic desires, it is nearly guaranteed that such an act will produce offspring.”

“Ssssssssstanford, yer jumpin’ to ssssssssssome ssssssssserioussssss conclusssssssionssss,” Angie said. “I mean, Ssssssssstanley and I barely know each other! We ain’t romantically entangled.”

“Oh, c’mon, toots,” Stan purred, nuzzling Angie. “You know you wanna be romantically entangled with me.” Angie giggled. Fiddleford let out a snarl. He hamboned aggressively. Angie hissed at him, baring her fangs.

“I can make my own decccccccisssssssionssssssss,” she spat.

“What’d he say?” Stan asked. Angie scowled.

“Oh, jusssssssst more of the sssssssssssame nonsssssssensssssse yer brother’ssssssss been ssssssssspoutin’. That neither of ussssssss have control over our impulssssssesssss ‘n we’re desssssstined to give in to animalisssssssstic desssssssiressssss if we even sssssssssstay in the ssssssssame room.” Fiddleford hamboned something. “Well, all the ssssssame thingssssss plusssssss a lot of derogatory wordssssssss ‘bout you.”

“So same old, same old, then,” Stan said. He blew a puff of smoke at Fiddleford. “We’ve been over this, Fiddledork. Your sister’s a grown snake-woman. Let her make her own damn decisions.” He looked at Angie. “Wanna go hunt for some breakfast? Turning into a dragon really makes a guy hungry. I could eat a whole herd of horses.” Angie beamed.

“I’d love to join ya, yesssssss.”

“I need to study the result of your completed transformation,” Ford interjected.

“You can poke me as much as you want,” Stan said. His stomach rumbled, sounding almost exactly like thunder. “After breakfast.”

#I've been a bit slow to write lately bc work's been difficult #and dealing with my wrist injuries has been stressful and slow-going #those are also why I haven't been like. super present on tungle lately?#idk if anyone else has noticed that or not tho #but yeah there's some Personal Stuff in my life right now and I need to just chill #(also....I may or may not have started up work on some multichaps again......)#Monster Falls AU #Stanley Pines #Angie McGucket #Stanford Pines #Fiddleford McGucket #Stangie #ficlet #my writing #my stuff #speecher speaks

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forasecondtherewedwon · 3 years

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Dolls’ Eyes — A Jaws AU

Pairings: established Peggy/Steve, developing Brunnhilde/Carol Rating: T Chapters: 14/14

Summary: Tony Stark snapped his fingers and the vanished half of the universe returned, but Thanos escaped the battlefield, fleeing into space. Now that he’s virtually powerless, most of the Avengers consider chasing him all over the universe a waste of resources, but Peggy Carter—newly deposited in the 21st century—is determined to finish the job. Brunnhilde and Carol Danvers have the same idea.

When scattered rumours of fresh killings escalate to the death of one of their own, the three women team up to defeat Thanos once and for all.

read the prologue

read ch. 1 one / 2 two / 3 three / 4 four / 5 five 6 six / 7 seven / 8 eight / 9 nine / 10 ten 11 eleven / 12 twelve / 13 thirteen / 14 fourteen

After everything, Carol wasn’t surprised that Brunnhilde put up a fight over being told to just rest. Carol reminded her that she was lucky to be alive, to which Brunnhilde responded that it wasn’t anything like luck, and went on to list the incredible, lifesaving properties of her fine armour, explain the enhanced durability provided by her Asgardian biology, and enumerate all of the injuries she’d previously sustained that were apparently worse than being electrocuted half to death, and then nearly drowning while incapacitated. Carol didn’t believe half of it, but it was kinda hot when Brunnhilde bragged.

So, in spite of Carol’s efforts, Brunnhilde kept getting up the second her back was turned in order to haul bodies off of Thanos’s ship. As they started to fix everything Carol had broken (including a patch job of that hole in the roof), a scan of the local environment informed them that almost all of the life on this planet was aquatic. They left the stack of corpses on land. Whatever water critters were around, they didn’t need toxic eyeball goo leeching into their habitat.

Carol caught Brunnhilde shaking out a twitching arm and made her sit to do electronic repairs rather than manual labour. (Carol had that handled anyway, plus, she knew where all the bodies were because she was the one who’d left them there.) Brunnhilde protested that she was the captain. Carol came way too close to saying not of this ship, but stopped herself. Instead, she suggested Brunnhilde do like any other captain would and let her underlings take on the grunt work. That got a smile, if not verbal agreement.

Thankfully, Peggy was a fast learner; Carol explained the basics of what she’d done to wreck something and Peggy quickly understood how to walk back the damage. They worked their way through the ship, staying at neighbouring stations so Carol would be there if Peggy had questions, and Peggy would be there if (when) Carol had messed something up so badly that it needed four hands to fix.

“Maria would’ve been great with this,” she said without thinking, holding up a fistful of wires while Peggy tinkered beneath.

“Maria?”

It was easier to talk about her than it had ever been before. Like with the repairs, she could tell that Peggy understood without Carol having to do much more than gush over how good Maria had been at fixing stuff, how thorough she’d been with the plane she’d kept in the hangar on her property, how reliable, how trustworthy, how patient…

“Yes,” Peggy told her with a smile. “She sounds like she was wonderful.”

“She was.”

But when the two of them had finished their circuit of the ship and Carol went to tell Brunnhilde they were good to go, she wasn’t there. Carol panicked, worried that Brunnhilde had overheard all her praise of Maria and somehow missed the tone of a person who was in the late stages of grief, who had accepted the worst and was keen to keep living, maybe even loving.

When she couldn’t find her on the ship, she jogged down the ramp, intending to look for her outside. The second she turned to face the water, she spotted Brunnhilde coming towards her from the escape vessel. Carol ran out to meet her.

“What’s all this?” she asked in a tone of amusement, because Brunnhilde had her arms full.

“Food, Peggy’s jacket, a couple beers that didn’t get smashed when Thanos rammed us, uh…” She tried to examine the rest of the pile she was carrying, but it teetered and slipped; laughing, Carol scooped a few things out of her arms before they could end up in the shallow water.

“I thought you might’ve taken off on us,” she said lightly.

“I didn’t think you thought I’d be capable of that after getting zapped.”

“I was just…”

Brunnhilde walked close, pressing her arm into Carol’s.

“I know. I would’ve been the same way if it’d been you.”

“I don’t even know if I can get electrocuted,” Carol said.

“I’m not gonna recommend trying it for fun,” Brunnhilde told her. “Anyway, I used all my discs on Thanos and I dropped the remote in the water somewhere… You’d have to go to Thor with your request, ask him to bring the lightning down.”

“Straight to Thor?!” Carol laughed. “That seems a little extreme.”

“Or you could just stand around outside in New Asgard during a storm and wait for it to happen naturally.”

“And why would I need to be in New Asgard specifically?” Carol asked in a teasing voice. “I could get struck by lightning anywhere.”

She watched Brunnhilde flounder but couldn’t get an answer out of her, not on the way to the ship, not while she was distracted with Peggy asking her a slew of health questions, and not while they were trying to figure out how to get this humongous spaceship off the ground with a crew of only three people.

As they made their rocky assent, Carol was too busy to wonder whether Brunnhilde had heard her talking about Maria before she’d left the ship to scavenge from the escape craft. They had just broken through the atmosphere, blue sky giving way to black, when Brunnhilde spoke.

“Love’s like war.”

It was so sudden that Carol snorted a laugh.

“Ok, poet,” she said. She was tempted to devote some time to getting Thanos’s ship to play her music, if only to put on ‘Love Is a Battlefield’ for Brunnhilde. To let her know what had been said on the subject already.

She smirked to herself when Brunnhilde continued, clearly not giving a shit about her interruption or joking criticism.

“It is.”

“What do you mean?” Carol asked more seriously.

Brunnhilde shifted in her seat, engaging different protocols for outer space travel. Carol noticed the tremor had gone from her arm.

“You do better in both because of experience,” Brunnhilde said, looking straight out the viewport. “Anybody who can’t appreciate the benefit of falling for someone who’s been in love before is a fucking idiot.”

“And you’re not a fucking idiot.”

“I hope that isn’t a question.”

Carol smiled and shook her head. They flew in silence for a while.

“When we get back,” she said eventually, peering shyly over at her captain, “I owe someone important to me a visit, but then I’m coming to see you. Just a heads-up.”

“Vaguely threatening.”

“Sorry.”

“No,” Brunnhilde told her, grabbing her forearm to get her full attention, “I liked it.”

Heat raced up Carol’s neck until she was blushing as bright red as her suit, or the dumb acid burn on her arm.

Just then, Peggy’s agitated voice came from the other end of the wide flight deck.

“Someone’s coming right at us!”

Before Carol had the chance to say what the hell? or who? or again?, an incoming message threw a distantly familiar face up in front of them, hovering in the form of a hologram.

“Hey,” Carol greeted. “Small universe.”

—

Peggy had never thought to imagine what Gamora might be like. She’d had an account of Peter Quill’s affection for her from Rocket, but had recognized that a portrayal of the woman that crew had known—the woman Peter had loved enough to forfeit his life in the quest for reunion—couldn’t be fully accurate. At best, the Gamora they described would be one layer removed from the real person. The Gamora they had known and the one whose hologram had just appeared before Peggy, Carol, and Brunnhilde were a handful of years and a thousand experiences apart.

It seemed absurd to Peggy that this woman may wish to harm them, but she really ought to have considered it.

“Was it your distress signal I picked up?” Gamora asked flatly, eyes locked on Carol in the pilot’s seat.

“Umm… yep.”

“And you still require assistance?”

Carol glanced at Brunnhilde, then over to Peggy, who nodded. They certainly had worked wonders, she felt, in getting this massive spaceship off the planet, but who knew how many things could go wrong between here and Earth? Peggy doubted either of her shipmates had told her the half of it. They were simply short-staffed, too few fingers available to plug any metaphorical leaks they might spring on the journey.

“Yes please,” Carol told her.

With a nod, 2014 Gamora went from unknown quantity to ally. Peggy sighed in relief.

The three of them were transported directly from Thanos’s ship to Gamora’s. The process was quite indescribable, Peggy thought. Tingly, quick, with a bit of a lurch as she rematerialized on an entirely different flight deck from the one she’d just left. Had the transfer been instantaneous? Had she, perhaps, ceased to exist for a moment or two? She was full of questions but unsure to whom she should direct them.

Gamora, while welcoming in deed, was somewhat inscrutable when they met her face-to-face. Standoffish. Unsure of herself, Peggy realized. Immediately, she warmed to the woman. She had been in her place herself once, sort of, if not precisely in her intimidating boots. It hadn’t been so long ago that she’d been ferried through time to find the world completely changed. What Gamora needed was a reason to trust them the way they were trusting her.

“I take it you killed my father?” Gamora asked plainly once they were aboard.

Oh dear. It seemed they weren’t off to a very auspicious start.

Brunnhilde stepped in front of Carol, who’d just been opening her mouth to speak, presumably to claim responsibility.

“I was the captain,” she stated. “Thanos was killed on my orders.”

“Uh, no, not explicitly,” Carol argued.

“Anyway,” Peggy piped up, “I’m the one who shot him in the head.”

“And he was only vulnerable to that because I electrocuted him to within an inch of his despicable life and his helmet fell off,” Brunnhilde countered.

“On a planet I flew us to,” Carol reminded them.

“We’ll be sharing the blame,” Peggy informed Gamora on behalf of her crewmates.

Gamora cocked her head consideringly.

“And if it’s approval?” To their universal silence, she explained, “I know what he was capable of in my time, and I saw enough of Earth to get a general idea of what he was set to accomplish if he wasn’t stopped.”

“Were you out here hunting him too?” Peggy took a step towards her.

Directing her gaze away from them, Gamora blinked rapidly, looking momentarily confused and upset. In the next second, she’d hidden any outward hint of those feelings.

“I should’ve been,” she said, “but I’ve never been able to stand up to him like I should have. After I left your planet… for a while, I wasn’t looking for him. But I began to see signs. And then Peter Quill came.”

“Peter!” Carol said. “You saw him? Did you talk to him? Rocket never said—”

“No. I just watched. I followed him for a while. I knew he was looking for me. He was so… loud.” Gamora made a face. “Leaving word for me everywhere, telling traders and transports that he was my boyfriend. He was an idiot, but an entertaining idiot… I barely noticed that I’d stopped keeping track of Thanos until he just showed up…

“I was a coward,” Gamora went on. “I saw my father intercept Peter’s ship and I knew what would probably happen, but I couldn’t put myself between the two of them. Was I supposed to stand up for this guy when I’d never been able to stand up for myself? I was raised to be cruel, to think of myself, that attachments formed to accomplish anything but the acquisition of power make you weak. I know Thanos killed Peter. It’s my fault he’s dead.”

Peggy stood in front of her, refraining from placing a reassuring hand on Gamora’s shoulder when she gave her cagey eyes.

“It’s not,” Peggy told her firmly.

“I only heard your distress signal because I heard Peter’s first,” Gamora said. “I went onboard after my father had left; it was days before I could force myself to do it, maybe longer. I used his communications system to speak to his crewmates on Earth.”

“You must’ve just missed us leaving,” Brunnhilde said.

“That’s what he told me. He said three more morons had left the planet, on their way to hunt down Thanos.”

“And you’ve helped us,” Peggy said, tone insistent. “If you do feel any responsibility for what happened to Peter, then surely you should also believe that you’ve redeemed yourself by saving our backsides.”

Gamora’s eyes squinted as though she were in pain.

“I owed him more than this and I hate it,” she said, jaw clenched. “He was no one to me. He knew someone I’m never going to become.”

“Shhh. I know,” Peggy said soothingly.

“I don’t see how that’s possible. Have you ever had someone tell you they love you when it feels like it’s impossible that they even know you? That whoever they loved had to be a different person from who you are?”

Peggy’s shoulders fell. She could feel the bittersweet smile on her face.

“Actually, yes.”

Gamora appeared surprised to have been brought up short in such a manner.

“Do you have any advice?” Peggy urged softly.

For a minute, Gamora was quiet, staring hard at the wall. Peggy could feel that the others had backed away, giving them time and space when Gamora’s stream of information had been diverted by the confusing grief she was obviously experiencing.

“Whatever lengths he goes to because he thinks you’re better than you are…” Gamora finally said, turning her head to look Peggy in the eye. “Try to be worth it.”

“Got it.”

Peggy folded her hands together, pressing her right palm to her wedding ring.

—

They were about to get underway, their new crew of four on a significantly smaller, though sleeker, ship. (Brunnhilde didn’t mourn for the one they’d left in the shallows; it had served them well, first the Asgardians and now the team responsible for the death of Thanos.) However, staring out the viewport from the seat in which she’d been installed as the effective second-in-command, Brunnhilde didn’t feel right. The sight of Thanos’s ship just hanging there in space unnerved her. It would be better if no trace of the Titan remained.

“Let’s blast it,” she suggested to the deck at large.

“Thanos’s spaceship?” Peggy checked.

“Yes.”

“Well,” Carol said, “we aren’t near anything. There’s nothing for the debris to hit…”

Brunnhilde smiled slightly and looked to the captain.

“Gamora? Do you have any weapons on this ship that could do the job?”

“There is one thing I’ve been saving for a special occasion,” Gamora said, gaze fixed on Thanos’s ship. “First, we’re going to need to get clear.”

She piloted them away—away from the planet, away from the ship. Part of Brunnhilde wanted to request the honour of launching the torpedo Gamora was setting the coordinates for, locking it onto her late father’s final vessel, but she was already satisfied with the role she’d played. Let Gamora take this final, symbolic step. It was like Thor’s hideous couch; Brunnhilde had helped him lug the thing into the open air, but permitted him to drop the match (once she’d soaked the cushions in lighter fluid, just in case it wasn’t sufficiently saturated in spilled beer). She would content herself with watching it go up in flames.

And it did. It was an impressive explosion, scattering wreckage in a wide perimeter Gamora had kept them outside of. They were briefly silent as jagged hunks of metal twisted in the void.

“That’s one way to get the stink of dead bodies out,” Carol noted, and Brunnhilde turned to her, shoulders shaking with laughter Carol quickly joined in on.

They flew for some time, and it was good just to relax, to stretch in her seat and tilt her head from side to side so that her neck cracked horrendously and Peggy said things like “good lord!” while Carol laughed her ass off. Brunnhilde remained alert though. She couldn’t help it. In the old days, with the Valkyrie, there’d been a certain relief when the battle in which they’d been engaged was done, but they’d only known true rest once they’d returned to Asgard. Home. The last time she’d been on a ship bound for Earth, the atmosphere had been one of intense grief, muffled weeping in the corridors. They’d known Earth as Midgard and had little admiration for its country of Norway, chilly with fog and swathed in the bleak colours that reflected their inner emptiness. Nothing they loved was there—not their people, not their gleaming towers and soaring statues. How could it ever possibly feel like coming home?

Brunnhilde had honestly believed she’d lost her ability to experience that feeling, that, without her sisters-in-arms, the sensation was lost to her. Yet, despite the tension she still carried from the fight, she felt it easing. She felt herself longing for home, her little house at the water’s edge. For the chance to return to her people as their king and announce a great evil defeated. Maybe this tension was only anticipation after all.

In contrast to the fruits of her own contemplation and revelation, Gamora’s private thoughts had left her expression mournful and roving. Brunnhilde exited the deck to relieve herself and find something to eat in Gamora’s stores, and when she returned, she addressed her.

“You’re not taking us all the way to Earth, are you?”

Gamora flicked her gaze sideways to assess her. Brunnhilde knew there was no judgement to be found in her face, so she stared back calmly.

“I’m taking you to Quill’s ship. Thanos, in his infinite arrogance, didn’t damage it. Maybe he thought he might like to return to it some time and claim it as part of his fleet. It’s a tribute to how much I continue to feel my father’s influence that I planned to do the same. Not build a fleet, but go back. There’s something about that ship… I find it comforting.”

Brunnhilde frowned thoughtfully.

“Are you sure you don’t want to take it and leave this one for us?”

“No. What I felt when I was onboard, examining it and… and removing Quill’s body for space burial… that was just a feeling of, I don’t know, another life. There’s a group on Earth for whom that ship means something. And it’s the only thing they have of him. I couldn’t keep it.”

“One of those people is your sister,” Brunnhilde said carefully.

“Yes.”

“I tried to talk to her, but she doesn’t like me very much. I don’t blame her,” she added as Gamora gave her a wary look. “She was upset.”

“Nebula is at her most dangerous when upset, and she’s always upset, so she’s always dangerous.”

“She was upset about Peter’s death. But I think also because, without him, no one was out here looking for you.”

Gamora stiffened.

“If she really wants to find me, she can come look for me herself. I’ll be ready.”

“She doesn’t want to fight you,” Brunnhilde said. “She misses you. I think. It’s really none of my business.”

“Why would you wish to get involved in our family affairs?” Gamora’s voice was more curious than accusing. “Besides murdering our father, of course.”

Brunnhilde sighed before answering.

“I’ve lost many people I cared about. I don’t have a family anymore.” She glanced over to see Carol and Peggy bent over a screen together, Carol’s sudden snort infecting Peggy until they were both laughing. “I mean,” Brunnhilde corrected herself, “I didn’t.”

When they arrived at the Benatar and Gamora transported Carol and Peggy off her ship, Brunnhilde motioned for Gamora to hold off a moment on removing her.

“If we don’t meet again,” she said, sticking out her arm for Gamora to grasp.

Gamora gripped her tightly and nodded.

“I think we might though. I thought about it and realized it’s easier for me to find Nebula than for her to find me.”

“I may have left you her coordinates.” Brunnhilde released Gamora’s arm. “Enjoy Missouri.”

She joined Peggy and Carol on the Benatar, pausing to bend over Carol’s seat to surprise her with a deep kiss before she took up her own position. She brushed stray strands of hair back out of Carol’s dancing eyes.

“I’m going to have to redo your braid,” Brunnhilde told her.

“Oh, we’ll have time. We’ve got quite a road trip ahead of us. Luckily… Peter left us his tunes.” Beaming, she started up a song with a bright beat.

Brunnhilde smiled and went to her seat, fastening herself in as Carol readied the vessel for launch.

“You know,” Peggy said thoughtfully, slinging her jacket over the back of her chosen seat, “before all of this, I was actually quite afraid of outer space.”

Carol laughed.

“I can’t imagine why.”

#my writing #Dolls' Eyes #MCU #Avengers: Endgame #Peggy Carter #Brunnhilde #Carol Danvers #Valkyrie #Captain Marvel #Steve Rogers #Nick Fury

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fenristheorem · 3 years

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Hi! Can i ask a scenario/headcanon for my human OC s/o and lance? thank u 🖤

Hello again! Happy to write for your OC! 😊

The page who requested this DM'ed me details of their OC, so I'll write some major points of their OC in a list below so there's a general idea of who I'm writing.

~Under the cut~

The OC:

To begin with, her name is Mary.

She's a human with witch ancestry, and is roughly 164 cm or 5 ft 4 in.

Since coming to Eldarya, she's learned to control electricity. This can be used as a weapon. It can be pooled to be thrown as a bolt, or it can be charged into another object without her even touching it. This ability also reflects her emotions a bit - if she’s feeling anxious, tense, or scared she may accidentally end up shocking someone who touches her.

She can talk with animals/companions. She’s their voice in a way, and she speaks for them when they need something said but can’t say it themselves. This comes from a mind-link with them, and through this link she can also control them and their actions.

Occasionally she receives premonitions because of her ancestry. Mary can’t control this ability, it comes at random times, but it can still warn her of future events.

Personality - Mary can be considered the mother of the group, with a bit of a dirty mind. She cares deeply for those who are close to her but isn’t afraid to give them a sharp scolding if they worry her seriously. She’s pretty quiet, but not shy, and while she’s wary of strangers she can quickly warm up to them. Her mind-link to animals has helped her grow to love these creatures in time, and she’s very protective of them and her friends/family. Mary isn’t afraid to fight for her beliefs and what she feels is right, she likes to be modest but isn’t afraid to be the center of the attention in a time where she needs to put her foot down. However, she does understand that people can change, and will give others a second chance - and even advocate for them - if they show sincere regrets for their mistakes.

Now that that's settled, I'll get to the headcanons (and I added an extra scenario because I had a great idea).

Lance's relationship with Mary:

Oh, where to start?

In his lifetime, Lance has learned that you need to appreciate the people who are true with themselves and others, and who stand by you even when it might be better or easier for them not to. He tries his best to be as useful to the guard as possible - to make up for everything he's done - so when she comes to him, noticing that he's been running himself a bit too hard some days, and tells him to take a break and says that she's worried for him, he listens.

He fights a bit at first; he’s not used to having such a caring figure watch over him, but in time he realizes that she acts like this to show she cares. He’ll soften up then, slowly learning the best ways to comfort her worries for him and give genuine apologies when he fails to show that’s he’s truly alright after her concerns run rampant. She just wants him to be alright and know she cares.

Lance admires her adamance in fighting for what she feels is right, and even further appreciates her fearlessness in opening up to him and trusting him early on when he was proving to her that he had changed. Frankly, he expected her to take many months, perhaps years, before accepting that he had changed from his past ways, and was delightfully surprised when he found that she actually was beginning to believe it early on. She had no reason to doubt, though - many weeks had passed and he continuously proved that he’s changed for the better, so while she was cautious (her mother didn’t raise a naive fool), she kept an open mind on the topic and let his actions and words speak for himself.

He’s happy to stand beside her on topics that they share a common opinion on, talking and debating new reasons as to why they feel this way or that - and although they’re open-minded to other’s opinions on the matter, when they’re faced with a time where opinions can shape something permanently and it seems a mistake is about to be made, they won’t hesitate to argue their points. With that being said, they’re very careful to be sure that they aren’t misleading anyone, but there are certainly some things that they know to be right and they will readily fight alongside each other to enforce that the right decision needs to be made.

However, most of the time they’re pretty quiet. They like the modesty of carrying on daily tasks and (for Mary, at least) hanging out with friends. Mary doesn’t like to make a scene for no reason, and Lance genuinely loves that he doesn’t need to worry about her starting drama around the guard that superiors will need to deal with. Their temperament around each other is truly relaxing, knowing that the other won’t randomly burst out screeching information that shouldn’t be stressed.

Some of the most fascinating things for Lance, however, are the fact that she can speak with animals and control electricity. These are the topics that he likes to observe her doing.

He’ll spar with her every now and again - just to make sure she can still defend herself to his standards - and will receive a nasty surprise when he’s nearly struck with a thunderbolt that scorches the ground next to him - not meant to hit him, just meant to remind him.

“Lance, really, I think I’m fine. Even the most powerful warriors can’t stand to electricity.” She’ll faintly laugh at his semi-shocked expression. He forgets every now and again that she can do that.

However, she has had moments of anxiety that really shock him... literally. She'll be anxious or nervous about something, pacing around restlessly, and he'll try to hold her comfortingly... only to receive a nasty zap the instant his fingers brush her skin. She'll apologize profusely, only feeling worse at the fact her ability hurt him, but he'll pay no mind and still take her in his arms. He'll endure the pin pricks if it means he can help calm her down.

He takes her premonitions seriously as well. Every once in a while she’ll dream of something so vivid, so rational and realistic, that she just can’t ignore it. Usually she’ll keep her mouth shut on most of her dreams if they don’t bother her to the point of needing comfort, but sometimes there’s just this need for Lance to know. He’ll listen - he won’t ever deny her a comforting shoulder to lean on when she needs to talk - and his jaw will nearly drop every time it turns out that her dream turns into reality. This is far and few in between, but it does happen, and Lance - having quickly learned many lessons with her - will take these dreams heavily into account and try to plan accordingly. Sometimes a dream is just a dream, of course, but they've recognized tell tale signs to point when a dream may be different.

There’s some bittersweet warmth that takes over him when he sees her talking to the creatures of Eldarya, knowing that he nearly destroyed all of that and, fortunately, failed. Her bond with these animals is so strong that some days he wonders if there’s more than just a mind-link, perhaps some sort of spiritual-link as well, but he could never be truly sure.

He was certainly surprised the first time it happened, though, when he was merely thinking bemusedly that she was just talking to a small woodland creature to be cute.

“She says the plant is dark green with red tipped leaves - big leaves, bigger than your hand. It’s that way.” She points in a direction.

Lance pauses and looks with her, his mind suddenly whirring so fast he nearly suffers whiplash, and doesn’t speak for many moments as his stare remains glued to her, minor hints of fear and shock lacing his expression.

“What? That’s what she said...” Mary is suddenly minorly off-put - nothing is more terrifying than when Lance doesn’t know how to react to a situation.

“The... the plant... she... how???” He doesn’t exactly know what he wants to ask.

“Oh, I’m so sorry! I have a mind-link with animals, I can speak with them through thought.” She continues to apologize as Lance suddenly heaves a relieved breath.

He truly thought his partner had went crazy for those moments.

“So this way?” “Yea.” “Ok.” “Hey, we really need to find this plant to study it, it might be dangerous. I need you to bring us to it.”

The woodland critter pauses for a moment, looking deep into her eyes as she links their mind, and then scuttles off in the direction of the plant.

Lance pauses again, the same blank, semi-fearful-shocked expression having returned as he watches the creature, Mary following close behind.

“It’s more polite to ask where it is rather than take control of the mind to see where we need to go, but smaller creatures don’t always understand the ideas of ‘show us’.” She says semi-guiltily as she passes by, knowing she accidentally left him in the dark on a lot of this ability.

“I... sure.” He follows as well. He’ll need some time to ponder over this before beginning the questions.

Lance grows very used to this in time, and even specifically asks her to come with him on forest expeditions sometimes if animals could help him find his objective, but it certainly was a shock when he first learned of it.

Their relationship is serene, they have minimal arguments and, frankly, when they do argue it’s more of a debate, and they enjoy spending time with each other doing subtle things. Every now and again they’ll enjoy an adventure (usually of Lance’s suggestion), and these adventures always yield entertaining, enjoyable results, but at the end of the day they also heavily enjoy the calm of life. It takes a while for Lance to settle into Mary’s quirks and habits, but he never regrets for even a day allowing himself to be close to her. She brightens his life in multiple ways, providing comfort, entertainment and support to him, and he seeks to return that as much as he’s given it.

Extra scenario:

(I theorize that Lance adopted Floppy and I will fight Beemoov on this if needed!)

“Oh great Oracle she’s still so adorable!”

Mary softly squeaked the words as she leaned down to watch the Musarose scuttle around the desk her nest was placed on. It had been a long while since she had last seen Floppy, the last time being sometime before the White Sacrifice, but she was still so freaking cute.

Floppy stopped and looked up at her, twitching her tiny pink nose before returning to scurrying across the wood. The little creature fled back into her nest for a moment, hidden from sight, before re-emerging and scuttling to the other end of the desk where nesting material for Musaroses lay in a wooden box. She scrambled onto the edge and took a small bunch in her maw before dashing back to her nest, disappearing again into the small hole entrance.

“A little more in the corner there...” A quiet, feminine voice echoed in Mary’s mind, and she reached over to the box of bedding, gently - to avoid crushing the soft material - pinching a bit of the bedding between her fingers before bringing her arm back.

Floppy poked her head back out again, preparing for another mad dash across the desk, before pricking her round ears and ambling out of her nest to settle in front of Mary. Mary brought her hand down to Floppy and small pink paws grappled in the air to receive the bedding.

“Thank you.” The feminine voice whispered again as Floppy blinked at her before she turned and slipped back into her nest.

Mary smiled as she stood up straight and looked towards Lance, who was seated at the edge of his bed. He was slouched forward, his elbows resting on his knees while he fiddled with his hands restlessly, his gaze fixed intently on Floppy’s nest.

“Thank you for letting me see her again. I had wondered what happened to her...” Mary spoke gently as she walked with quiet footsteps towards Lance, choosing to sit next to him so she could observe Floppy as well.

“Of course.” He responded with a small smile and a glance at her before looking to the floor.

Mary recognized that something seemed off about Lance as she studied him - he was pretty resigned at the moment. She realized that Lance wasn’t usually overly energetic, but he certainly wasn’t this sedated on average.

Floppy emerged from her nest another time and bounded over to the box of bedding, resting her front paws on it and trying with all of her greatest might to nudge the box.

“Done. Lance, done.” The voice whispered in Mary’s mind again, and she was about to open her mouth to relay Floppy’s words when Lance stood and sauntered over to the desk.

Floppy leaped at his hand as he closed the lid, missing and disappearing with a poof into the bedding instead.

“Floppy.” The quietest of laughs escaped him as he reached his hand into the bedding to pull the Musarose out. She shook herself off while he continued to close the lid with his other hand.

Mary smiled again and joined his side by the desk, resting a hand on the box with intentions of putting it back for him. However, Lance rested his hand gently on her wrist as he noticed, turning to look at her with soft eyes and a small, affectionate tilt of his lips.

“I got it.” He said.

Floppy scrambled onto the desk as Lance picked up the box and headed towards a chest placed alongside another wall of his room, while Mary stood still by the Musarose. They both watched Lance for a moment as he crouched down and opened the chest, hesitating to put the box inside.

“The box belonged to Valkyon.” Mary turned to look at Floppy, who was crouched on the desk, as she started to speak through the mind link.

“Oh?” She spoke quietly. Mary was sure that Lance could still hear everything she might say, but she still spoke in a quiet tone for the sake of discretion.

“The box reminds Lance of his brother, but he refuses to get rid of it. He really misses him.”

Mary stared at Floppy for a moment before turning to look at Lance again. He was tracing his thumb over a small etching in the wood that she could faintly make out. A ‘v’... ‘a’... ‘l’... ‘y’... Was that Valkyon’s name carved into the wood?

“He does this a lot when he’s reminded of him. I miss him too, so I try to comfort him. I’m not sure if it works, but I just want Lance to know that I miss him too, and that I’m sure Valkyon isn’t angry. He always spoke so highly of his brother in his memories, and even when he found out that he had to fight Lance he still loved him so much. He just wanted his brother to feel better...”

Mary didn’t know what to say. She knew as well that Valkyon wasn’t angry, and that Lance heavily missed his brother. Did Lance know that Floppy felt all this as well? Did he know that Floppy can tell when he’s in agony and tries to comfort him?

Lance set the wooden box into the chest and closed it, standing up and beginning to shuffle around a few things on another desk next to it. He says nothing but the sloping of his shoulders and the way he hangs his head tells that he’s burdened by thoughts.

“Valkyon always hoped that his brother was alive; he never stopped searching for him and went to many extremes to try and track him. I don’t think Lance knows how much he meant to Valkyon, even after Valkyon realized he had been fighting his brother the whole time. I just wish he knew this, I think it would comfort him, knowing that his brother will love him no matter what...”

Mary looked at Floppy again and the Musarose turned to meet her gaze. Both were silent, and Mary had a feeling that the small creature wanted her to do something. Little did Floppy know, Mary already was planning on how to tell this to Lance. She knew the companion wouldn’t have told her all of this in such detail, while Lance is in such pain, unless she meant for her to do something about it.

Her gaze returns to Lance as he turns and heads towards them again, reaching gently for Floppy. She extended her tiny legs into the air to reach for his hand and claw her way up to stand and look at him. He pet her a few times with his thumb, holding her close to his chest, before setting her down again near the entrance to her nest. One hand was set on the desk to allow himself to lean while Floppy scurried over and around his other hand, a whisper of a smile resting on his face and a distant look in his eyes...

“You know... Floppy misses him too.”

Lance flicked his gaze over to Mary as she began to speak, who watching the Musarose clamber about.

“She knows when you’re reminded of him, and she doesn’t want to see you in pain. She knows that Valk doesn’t want you to be in pain either...”

His gaze fled to an empty section of the desk, bowing his head. Mary took just a small step closer to him.

"Lance-" He refused to hear it; he couldn't hear it.

Mary reached a hand out to rest on his shoulder as she began speaking, but he backed away, unable to meet her gaze, and sauntered to the window. Lance felt his throat constrict and pain prick at his chest as he rested both hands on the windowsill and bowed his head; this was all his fault, he didn't deserve comfort.

Mary refused to give up though, Lance needed to hear this. He needed to know that, while he had done some terrible things, he always was and still is loved dearly. She quickly trod after him, Floppy dashing along the desk and over other furnishings to keep her important role in this, and, although she knew he wouldn't take too gracefully to this, rested her hand on his arm and stood close by him.

“Valk never stopped looking for you, he always believed you could still be alive. He spent so much energy trying to find a possible lead on you... and he always spoke highly of you.” Mary spoke in a gentle tone as she watched his expression, carefully testing her words to assure she didn’t distress him too much. She glanced over at Floppy, who was sitting on the windowsill on Lance’s other side.

“Valk always believed him in. He always believed that Lance was still good.”

“Valk always loved you and he always believed in you, even after knowing what you had done.”

Watching as Lance’s blue eyes grew misty as he stared through the window, Mary knew she was getting to him. She glanced at Floppy again as the companion nudged closer to rest her fore-paws on Lance’s wrist and sniff at him.

“Floppy knows when you have moments where you miss him... she knows how much Valk loved you, and she wants you to know that even though he isn’t here anymore, she is and she can love you for him.”

Lance shut his glassy eyes at this, tilting his head down, before opening his eyes just the slightest to look at Floppy with a tragic look on his face. The Musarose curled her tail over his hand and looked up at him as though he was her whole world. He breathed a shaky breath and spared a bittersweet smile at her.

Mary pressed herself gently against Lance, bringing both her arms around him to pull him closer. He didn’t resist, turning to face her and pull her into a tight hug with one hand on her nape and the other around her waist as he buried his face in her neck. She could swear she felt a bit of moisture near her neck as Lance stifled a heaving breath.

Floppy joined as well, leaping onto Mary’s clothing and crawling upwards until she could settle against Lance’s neck, where she laid gripping his shoulder armor as to not lose balance and fall.

“Lance...” Mary wanted to say something more to comfort him, but she couldn’t bring anything to mind that would help this situation. Anything further would just break Lance, and she didn’t want to destroy the moment that was being shared. She resigned to just holding Lance in a gentle and loving grasp as he held her like she was his last lifeline.

After the passing of many minutes, Lance eventually regained control of his breathing and loosened his grasp to avoid suffocating her. As he adjusted his grip, wrapping both his arms completely around her tiny frame, only one thought could run through his mind and be spoken:

“Thank you.”

Hmm. I feel like I deviated from Mary’s personality a bit with the short-story/scenario as it required her to be a bit pushy, but I suppose a trait of being a motherly person is not being afraid to put someone in a bit of distress if it’s something they need to hear to feel better in the long run.

I hope you liked this overall! This was my first time writing with a specific OC, which turned out a lot harder than I originally thought and hence why it took so long, but I think I did well!

Have a request? Ask them here!

But first, please read the rules list for asks!

#eldarya #eldarya lance #Eldarya Lance ane #eldarya lance headcanons #eldarya lance scenarios #fenristheorem writing #askfenris

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we-are-the-amb · 3 years

Note

Hey what up bro. How have you been? I was wondering if you had any headcannons of Star hanging out with Edgar and Alan? I dunno if I asked this or someone else, but ya know-

And if you wanted to take a break from talking about the lost boys, then what's your favorite fruit? I have a three way tie of Strawberries, Kiwifruit, or Mangos. Anything tart is pretty preem.

Hey there, buddy! I’ve been well, thank you, I hope you have been, too? I will happily answer both your queries! My favourite fruits are mangos, cantaloupe and pineapple. However, I also enjoy raspberries, mandarins and green apples. I agree, tart fruits are king. Funnily enough, I think I’m slightly allergic to kiwi fruit! Each time I’ve eaten it, my lips have gone raw and sore.

As for headcanons about Star and the Frogs, I certainly have some! I’m taking note of the term “hanging out”, because I have a lot of angsty thoughts about this, but I shall keep it a bit lighter.

- Okay, here’s the thing; Star, Edgar and Alan are all really quite similar and come from similar backgrounds. All are children of neglectful parents, and all are neurodivergent and undiagnosed. The main difference is that Star was an only child, where the Frogs are siblings and very close knit. This has affected their developments, differently.

- It does reach a point where they can see eye-to-eye, and consider each other friends, even family. However, they have a lot to unpack, before they get to that point. Progress is slow, because while they do see each other a great deal, they rarely converse and are rarely alone with each other. I wanted to air some of this out in a fic I planned to write, but never did, in which Star and Edgar have a heavy confrontation. Specifically Star and Edgar, because while their backgrounds are similar, their is a greater conflict of personality, than between Star and Alan.

- The Frogs had joined the Emersons on a camping trip, and one evening the youngsters decided to play hide and seek, in the forest. Star had split off from her group, to enjoy the scenery, alone. It was on her walk that she came upon Edgar, also alone and fast approaching a meltdown. He in an unfamiliar area, and Alan was nowhere to be seen, and that was enough to make him feel like the trees, themselves were bearing down on him.

- Star remembered seeing Marko get like this, at times, and she had not known what to do then, either. Though she liked Edgar much less, hated him even, she knew it wouldn’t be right to leave him alone in that state. So, she gingerly approached Edgar, reluctantly holding out her scent locket, her favourite stim item. When Edgar took notice of her, he growled defensively, and refused to sniff the locket in her hand, he wasn’t a dog. With some strain, she took off the locket and offered it to him to hold, snapping at him not to drop it. He did listen, holding the locket so hard his knuckles turned white. Huffing at the tiny gap in his fingers, he was surprised and relieved to smell lavender, not patchouli. He had always hated the smell of patchouli, as his mother wears it, as an alternative to bathing. He could never sit near Star, because of the familiar smell.

- Star stuck with him, until the others found them. It was then that all the bad feelings came out. See, both parties have some strong flaws, preconceptions and issues that have gone without confrontation. Star, at her core, is a very stubborn person, with a view that much resembles those of the fantasy books that comforted her, as a child. She’s carrying a lot of guilt from that bloody night at the Emerson house, because deep down she believes she could have done more to prevent such an end. She coddles herself, by projecting her own feelings of weakness and selfishness onto the Frogs, but particularly Edgar, being the stronger personality. Edgar does not seem to feel conflicted at all about what he did, and she both envies and hates him for it. It’s easier for her, to cast him and Alan as the villains.

Edgar, for his part, does have one regret from that night. It does scare him that he wielded a stake so readily against Laddie, even if he could have fought back and won. Laddie has sort of become his friend, a kid he wants to protect. It makes him queasy to remember standing over him with a stake, ready to kill. But, similar to Star, he comforts himself by thinking he did what he had to do, to make things right and protect Santa Carla. He wasn’t the genius who turned Laddie in the first place. And he hates Star, because that fanciful, flighty way of her’s just makes him think of his mother, who has never raised a finger to help him. How dare she blame him for her failure to fix things on her own.

- So, that’s where the relationship really begins, with a fight. By the time the others find them, things have changed. They’ve both seen sides of themselves and each other, they had not wanted to, but had to. It’s rocky, but it’s a start. When Star gets her locket back from Edgar’s hand, the metal is hot from a clenched fist. She can hardly stand to touch it, though the fragrance has become strong in that heat.

- Anyway, on to the lighter stuff, because things do get better!

- Alan and Laddie are pretty close. Both share a great love for fantasy and fairytales, as Star does. More than once, Star has caught him reading one of her’s and Laddie’s books to him, with Edgar sitting back and listening (Edgar is dyslexic, and Alan frequently reads to him, too). When Alan quarrels with Laddie about whether, or not fairies are real (Alan says yes, Laddie says no), those arguments invariably end up coming up with Star. Star, for her part, very much wants to believe in fairies, but isn’t as sure of them, as Alan. The first Halloween she has with the Emersons, Alan actually tells her to leave some dishes of honey around the perimeter of the house, to keep the fairies away from Laddie.

- As you can imagine, the three end up talking folklore quite a bit, when they do talk, at all. Star has a great interest in it, but the Frogs exhaust themselves into comas every Halloween, trying to kept the town safe. It gets to a point where she begins to help with some of the cake baking and cross making that goes into their elaborate defences.

- Star is a very good artist, particularly when it comes to sculpture. She rediscovers her talent, living with the Emersons. She makes toadstools, and dragons and little nonsensical critters. Sometimes, when the Frogs are waiting for Sam, they furtively watch her sculpt. One year, Sam commissions Star to make a pair of little frogs, for the brothers’ Christmas presents. They repay her the next year, with a painted pebble and a hand woven bracelet. They are quite artistic, themselves.

- Star teaches herself embroidery, and the Frogs can sew fairly well. Now and then, they sit together and customise their jackets.

- Their taste in music is quite similar. Sometimes they can all sit and vibe along to Janis Joplin, or The Grateful Dead, or The Incredible String Band. They all really let their stims out when they listen to music, as it make sense them so happy and eases their self consciousness.

- Star and Sam both collect crystals, which they share with great enthusiasm. Edgar and Alan have a fear and mistrust of crystals, though they played with them as children, and refuse to even touch them. Star almost teases them at first, waving pieces of her collection near them and almost getting her hands smacked, each time. Then, she and Sam make an effort to help them see that the crystals won’t harm them. Star picks out the smallest, smoothest rocks and places them in their hands, getting them used to the feel of them and showing them the stones have no power over them and won’t hurt them.

That’s all I can think of, for now, buddy! It’s not much, I know, but I hope you enjoy it. 🖖

#star #star (the lost boys)#edgar #edgar frog #alan #alan frog #the lost boys #lost boys #awesome monster bashers #frog brothers #headcanons

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abizarreyodelingincident · 4 years

Text

Linked Universe: Our Nightly Confidant 1

Wind From Home

Twilight considers himself a simple man. A farmer at heart, even if he has the hands of a hero. He's grown in a small village, where everyone knows everything about everyone else. Community is a sense that's been cultivated in him as well as pumpkins on a sky island (whatever that saying means).

He loves his brothers and his sort of dad. This quest... he doesn't want to say it's a blessing. It isn't. The monsters threaten many. Their group hasn't always saved everyone. It's no blessing that hurts so many. But he can't help rejoice the opportunity to meet so many heroes. To find his place in the legacy of the Hero of Courage.

As a Hylian from a human village, he's never worried about his place, but he does find peace in belonging to a group with no such innate distance.

He's one of the oldests, weird as that is. Most of the group are like little siblings to him. Weird, insane and irreverent little shits that give him grey hair. No, he's not thinking exclusively about Wild (Wild's a special case). He's attuned to their moods.

Four asked if he had a special sense for this, the second time he'd done it. A 'special' sense, he had insisted in the middle of their training camp, meaning wolf senses. No. Twilight doesn't feel one side of him bleeds into the other. It's not like that.

It's not what makes his eyes trail after Wind today. His youngest brother (barely losing to Colin by a season) is currently laughing his ass off on a tree stump over Warriors tripping on Legend's items. It is denied, not very convincingly, that the items weren't left there on purpose. Little shits, he's telling you.

The truth is more down to earth, the way Twilight likes it. Dogs train themselves to recognize hylian expressions. They know what sadness and joy and anger look like all too well. They know when to cheer their big two-legged friends. And a wolf? Well, a wolf better learn fast the difference between a real smile and a fake if it doesn't want to end up stuck in a bear trap.

***

First watch is always a bit nerve wracking. Unlike second and third watch, Twilight can't just shift into wolf form to sniff out enemies and make sure the whole forest is secure. Links don't fall asleep easily. Legend wakes up at the slightest noise for the first two hours he looks asleep. Time might just stare at the sky the whole night, not getting a wink of sleep. Sometimes, Twilight himself just... can't stop thinking. Wondering where she is now. If she's alright. If Ordon's safe without him. Once in a while, he'll close his eyes and hear Lumi crying, and Uli's quiet steps to shush her.

The other half of the time, it's staying asleep that's the problem. The Goddesses know they all have plenty of material to fuel their nightmares (he's never forgetting Yeta's face, he's resigned to that).

When the moon's path has almost reached its zenith, Twilight hears the first few moans. His heart drops. He hoped. But he's not surprised. Sometimes, the heart can't take the weight of the mask people plaster on.

It starts small. It always does.

For a time, it's mostly sniffles and choked sobs. Then a small 'I'm sorry.' Twilight grimaces. None of them show their scar easily. The deep scars, at least. Wind wouldn't appreciate an audience. Unfortunately, Twilight can't exactly leave. The next best thing however is to try and cut it short.

So, decision made, he creeps around camp, places himself behind Wind and shakes his shoulder. (Carefully. The group collectively learned not to take sleeping Links lightly. At least, Sky had laughed out the black eye with grace.)

“Hey, Sailor,” he whispers, hoping none of the others react. “It's your turn.”

In truth, it's a touch early for that. But he knows he made the right call when Wind rubs his eyes and freezes at the wet feeling on his fingers. He'd been in the middle of turning around, but he immediately fakes a stumble and buries his face in his rolled up blankets instead. It's a good cover to wipe tears without being too obvious.

Twilight would be impressed if that didn't send pangs of worry through his chest. Oh, Wind...

“Mrm,” Wind mumbles. “One minute?”

“Sure, I gotta take a leak anyway.”

“Yeah, yeah, piss off.” Wind waves him off from under the blanket.

Twilight smiles to himself. He should ask Wind to direct a play next time they visit his Hyrule. Queen Zelda was always in need of entertainment for the stuffy dignitaries. Jackasses couldn't crack a smile if they were whipped.

That faint irritation pushes him toward the end of the camp line, out of the clearing. Once he's out of sight and hearing range, he grabs onto his cursed necklace and sneaks through the underbrush. His senses make navigating through the twigs and branches child's play, and the lack of any pig-like stench reassures him that there's no malice-infected monster around. In less than a minute, he has circled around the camp and positioned himself the near opposite of where his hylian form left through. Generally, people don't make the association if he leaves a few minutes tick by. Out of sight, out of mind.

It's a bit embarrassing how well that trick works.

Wind's head is turned in the direction he disappeared earlier. Skittish, like a rabbit looking out of its hole. Wind must be waiting for him to return from his manly business, which is a bit of a lost bet at the moment. Seconds tick with only the faint brushing of leaves on his fur and the nightly wind for company. Then, all at once, Wind stands up and stomps his way to the stump Twilight had been using for his turn at the watch.

“Damn it!” Wind curses under his breath. The tears are held at bay, barely. “There's no way he didn't see... calm down, calm down dammit, he's gonna come back soon!”

A small boot kicks off some dirt. Twilight flinches in his hiding spot. That's more anger than expected. He's not sure what to do with that. None of them like vulnerability. None of them are used to being allowed vulnerability. He's worked on Wild and Time for a while now, and he's making progress, even if it's only them opening up to him.

It's that same instinct that pushes him to walk through the bush and reveal himself. He's as non-threatening as a large wolf can be, but Wind still whirls around with his sword drawn. Recognition is a second slower.

“Wolfie!” Wind whisper-yells. “Bad dog! I almost skewered you!”

Twilight raises one eyebrow, unimpressed. He is most certainly not a bad dog, and he is quite experienced at dodging last second hits by flailing, surprised preys. Not that he even thought of Wind as prey, never, but Wind didn't have to imply he'd be that stupid.

“Oi, what are you looking at?” Wind grumbles, dropping back on his tree stump. “Stupid dog...”

Twilight fights the urge to growl. He's here to help, not pick a fight. Unfortunately, his struggle had been obvious, because Wind deflates and sheaths his sword.

“Sorry. It's just... I'd been doing so well so far,” he whispers. “Even if they're big mother cuccos about me sometimes, they still listened to me.”

Twilight feels his tail curl between his legs. He knows he's overprotective. He knows it's annoying Wind, but he can't help it when every other time they fight, he sees Colin rushing into the path of King Bulblin.

“Hey, hey, don't be sad.” Wind cajoles, patting his knee like an invitation.

Twilight's too happy to question the change. He plops his chin on Wind knees and looks up. Small, calloused hands run into his fur.

“Do you have family, Wolfie?”

… What? For a second, he slips out of grasp just to better stare at Wind. Then, he sniffs his breath for a second, and whilst there's a fair amount of onions there (dental hygiene, Sailor!), no traces of booze anywhere. So, he softly woofs, tilting his head to the side.

“Do you have a she-wolf and a litter of little pups that trip all over themselves? I bet you're a good dad, aren't you?”

Twilight can't help the shocked whine that burst out of his throat, nor the flattened ears on top of his head. Him? A dad? He was far too young for that! Being a brother to Wild alone was trouble enough as it was, fatherhood remained firmly beyond his grasp. Besides... it wasn't like he had someone with whom...

“Aww,” Wind cooed, scratching behind his ears, “I didn't want to scare you, Wolfie. I just thought you take good care of us, s'all. I bet you'll be a good dad someday.”

Flattered as he is, he can't help puff and huff into Wind's shirt. He's a noble beast, talked down to like a lap dog. At least, he successfully distracted Wind from what nightmare he had.

Together, they listened to the crackling embers, moving only when the flames needed another log or when a critter stumbled too close to camp (a very curious rat that scampered when it met Twilight's eyes).

“How much did he drink?” Wind mutters, a bit later. “Did he pass out with his breeches down?”

A low growl rumbles into his chest. The disadvantage of others not knowing he's Wolfie is hearing that kind of crap about himself. He's a misunderstood man condemned by the judgemental Links of the world.

“What? Don't like him? Twilight's okay. Most of the time. Like, he saw me cry. I know he did. He knows I know, but he still pretended not to... you know?”

Twilight's best deadpan glare expresses that yes, he knows. More importantly, he puts a paw on Wind's chest, making a small inquisitive noise. Why? Did he need to share it with a very innocent wolf that doesn't judge anyone and anything except Warriors' morning hair?

The fragile grin on Wind's face falters. His eyes dart around. “I... it's not like... You won't laugh, right?”

Twilight nods emphatically.

“It's nothing too bad. I just miss my sister and my grandma.”

Oh, Wind...

“... Please don't tell the others,” Wind said in a tiny voice. “They already have a hard enough time taking me seriously. I don't want them to think I'm being a baby who cries about his family.”

The confusion can't overtake the lance of shame and heartbreak that spears through Twilight's body. Had... had they pushed Wind into this? Made him think that because they hide their tears, they'd laugh at his?! Goddesses... Uli would smack him with her wooden spoon for making a mess like this.

Again.

He might have been a bit overbearing once his quest had ended. Colin had been happy about the attention... the first three days or so. Afterward... well... Uli and Rusl had taken him aside, put their feet down and helped him let go of his dead grip on his little brother's safety. And half the monsters he'd faced had nothing on the challenge of letting Colin make his own mistake. He thought he'd gotten better about this.

But he might have forgotten Wind was not nearly as tolerant or hesitant as Colin.

“I'm a Hero too. I'm strong. Why would I cry over nothing? My grandma and my sister are fine. I bet we'll be portaled in my Hyrule soon and I'll have worried for nothing and Twilight and Warriors will be right to treat me like a fragile little boy again.”

He's not. They all know he's not. He's just... the youngest. The most cheerful, most innocent, most... most well-adjusted of them all, and they want so badly for Wind to keep that. He's a wonderful young man. They're all so proud, so impressed with him.

He's gonna have a few conversations with Warriors and Time tomorrow. Goddesses!

“Hey, Wolfie... I know you don't like being around too long, but... Do you mind staying a bit?”

Twilight chuffs, stubbornly burying his face even deeper in his little brother's shoulder. As if someone would be able to pry him off Wind before morning.

***

“Do you ever feel a strange sadness as dusk falls?”

Wind looks up sharply, startled but unwilling to admit it. He'd been polishing that long view of his by himself. “What?” he says, and there's an implied 'the fuck?!' in there. Pirates...

Twilight brushes the grass and then sits on the hill, staring past the coast at the red sun. “My father told me that, the day before I left on my quest. Neither of us knew then I'd have a quest soon, of course. But it stuck with me.”

For a long time, Wind's expression shifted between fascination, embarrassment and a bit of confusion. Twilight really needed to teach him how to maintain a poker face before he played cards with Warriors again. Still, there's no rush.

For all that it tears him in half, dusk also has a way to sooth his old aches. It's a peaceful time. A moment when the day dies, when the living settle and close their doors.

“It's the horizon, for me,” Wind admits. “When I... the first time, I'd never ever left my island, and all of a sudden, I had to leave because that huge ass bird had kidnapped my sister. So I had to leave my home for the first time, and I was on Tetra's boat, staring at Outset Island shrinking and shrinking till it was gone. Even when I pulled out my sister's long view, all I could find was the waves of the Great Sea.”

“Ah, a boar and a bulblin got my brother, my childhood friend and a bunch of kids. Knocked me right out with a hit to the head.”

Wind pulled his lips together and narrowed his eyes. “Well... I didn't get hit or anything, but Tetra threw me out of a cannon so I could infiltrate the fortress. Hit my face pretty hard too. That counts?”

“It wasn't a competition!” Twilight laughs, ruffling Wind's hair. It causes a flinch, and that's the light-hearted mood gone. Great. Twilight breathes through his nose. “You know, sometimes, I really want to smack my dad upside the head.”

Wind blinks. “... Okay?”

“Every goshdarn time I see the sun set, I remember him and my mom and my brother and sister, and... home. Every sunset reminds me of home. Makes me miss it so bad. Now I can't help feel that strange sadness every time.”

Silence.

A snort.

“Goddesses damned!” Wind wheezes out through his laugh. “He...”

“Yup,” Twilight says, leaning his chin on his fist. “He didn't think that one through. Bit of a self-fulfilling prophecy, ain't it? So, I do want to make him think before he spouts philosophy at me.”

“Hey, hey, Twilight!” Wind says, impish, tugging on his sleeves. Then, the second he has Twilight's attention, he puts on the most serious face he ever wore. “Do you ever feel a strange sadness... as you put on your pants?”

“You little shit,” he says, brimming with affection.

Wind, not to be undone, jumps to his feet. “Do you ever feel a strange sadness... as you drink milk?”

“Oi,” Twilight stands after him, darting right after the brat.

“Not the strange sadness of being chased by a goatherd!”

Two minutes. Two minutes and six variations of the most profound saying his farmer dad told him. Butchered. Butchered like a lame goat in winter. Twilight is both furious and delighted and it might be why, when he does catch Wind, he unleashes the noogie from hell.

Wind's screams, so closely related to that of a dying piglet, are very satisfying. Worth the kicks to the ribs.

And when retribution is served, Twilight shifts the hold into a one-sided hug with the smooth grace of a man who regularly pretends not to be the wolf that is never seen with him. Wind freezes, realization sharp on his face when he notices the tears gathering in Twilight's eyes.

“But the first thing I'd do if I saw him tomorrow... is hug him. Tell him I'm glad he's okay and that I missed him. Then I'd smack him and run for the hills, because Rusl happens to be the only guy in my village that knows how to use a sword.”

After a whole body shudder, Wind gives up and buries himself in his big brother's shoulder.

#Linked Universe #Linkeduniverse #LU Twilight #LU Wind #Wolf Link

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gold-and-rubies · 4 years

Note

Companions and Sturges, Proctor Ingram and the Minuteman Radio Freedom guy (we call him Saxon in this house) react to Sole giving them a gift on a special day, please!

I decided to go with a mix of anniversaries and birthdays. It’s a bit long, so I’m doing this in two parts, and everything is under the read more thing. It’s in alphabetical order from Cait to Dogmeat. Don’t worry, MacCready will be in the next one.

Part two can be found here

Cait: Cait sat on the couch of her and Sole’s shared home, unwrapping her hand wraps. Sole had insisted that she use them when she fought or practiced. Cait had scoffed at that. Bruised knuckles were the least of her worries, but she complied. After all it was to protect her, and Sole was the one who asked.

She hummed quietly as she inspected her hands. She looked up as someone opened the door, ready to fight. She calmed when Sole walked through. No one but them ever just walked in, but she was still getting used to that.

“Hey, I got something for you,” they greeted, holding up a somewhat long box.

She raised an eyebrow at them. Sole getting her stuff wasn’t out of the ordinary, but there was never an air of mystery to it.

Sole stepped over to the couch and sat beside her. They set the box on the coffee table in front of them.

“Open it,” they smiled, “but be careful. It’s sharp.”

Cait sat forward and took the lid off of the box. Inside was an aluminum bat with metal spikes welded to it. It looked like it was brand new. She picked it up by it’s leather wrapped handle. It was heavy in her hands, but not too much. It felt like it was the perfect weight to do some real destruction.

“Happy birthday, Cait. I hope you like it. Took me a while to find what I need, and to make it. I was worried it wouldn’t be done in time,” they explained.

Birthdays. She never understood why someone would want to celebrate them. Just another year they survived in the wasteland, but this...

She set it back in the box, close to tears. She fought them back. They were happy tears, but tears nonetheless. In her mind she had spent enough time crying. So instead she enveloped Sole in a bone crushing hug.

“Thanks, love. I’m sure it’ll be put to good use. Raiders will regret lettin’ me live this long.”

Codsworth: Codsworth floated around the kitchen in the old home in Sanctuary. Although the definition of clean changed, his job had gotten a bit easier now that Sole was living in it again. He actually had things to clean up now.

Sole poked their head through the glassless window. They had installed shutters to keep out critters and the elements, but it was a nice day so they were open.

“Hey, Codsworth. You know how you were complaining about some of your joints needing work, and your thruster needing an upgrade,” they said.

“Yes?”

“Well I found the parts, so If you want, I can do those repairs now.”

He paused, unsure how to respond, “Now? But I am in the middle of cleaning the dishes.”

“Yes, now, that is if you want. The dishes can wait. Especially today.”

“Today?”

“You don’t remember? Today is the day I brought you here,” they explained.

Codsworth swore if he was a human or synth he would have blushed.

“That is very kind of you. If you don’t mind, I will finish the dishes, then we can get started on the repairs”

Curie: Curie stood in her makeshift lab trying to get some work done, but her mind was elsewhere. Sole had been gone for about a month with Mister Valentine. While she trusted him to keep them safe, she still missed them dearly.

Someone knocked on the door.

“Come in,” she said.

Maybe it was someone who needed help. Maybe she just needed to try to focus on a different task.

She did not look up right away. She tried to make a final observation on the stingwing venom she was working with.

“What? Giving me the cold shoulder?” a familiar voice asked.

She looked up to see Sole Standing in the door frame smiling at her. She gently set down the vial of venom, then rushed over to greet Sole with a hug.

“I’m sorry, my love. I did not know it was you.”

“It’s alright. Looks like you were in the middle of something. I got you something, by the way.”

“What? A gift for me? Oh, you didn’t have to do that.”

“I felt like I needed to. I was gone for a while, and today is a very special day.”

“Special day?” she repeated.

They reached around to one of their back pants pockets and produced a small box that made a rattling noise as it moved.

“Happy anniversary, Curie. They’re aster seeds from Far Harbor. I know it isn’t much, but I thought you’d like to study them, and some living flowers.

“Oh my love, they’re wonderful,” she gasped, “I’m sure they will look beautiful as well.”

She smiled fondly at the box. Observations, discoveries, and experiments were waiting to be made.

Danse: Danse sat at the weaponry workbench at the Red Rocket just outside of Sanctuary. It had been a little over a year since his departure from the Brotherhood. Most of the people there had come to accept him now, but he still preferred to be alone most of the time. Well, alone with Sole.

But Sole was not there at the moment, instead it was just him and the project he was working on. Sole had talked him into joining the Minutemen, and he had some time off so he decided to make some adjustments to his personal laser musket.

He was so focused on his work that he did not hear Sole approach. He jumped slightly when he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. He looked up to see them smiling at him.

“Hey,” they said, cocking their head to the side. A soft smile was on their face.

“Hey,” he said back. His voice cracked slightly. He was still adjusting the casual affection.

“How’s the project going?” they asked.

“Good. Luckily, I think we already have the parts to make a stronger beam. How’d the trip to Diamond City go?”

“It went well. I got you something.”

He raised an eyebrow at them. They produced a small box, and handed it to him. He opened it and his eyes widened. Inside were old school dog tags. They looked brand new. His eyes started to tear up as he picked them up. He looked up at them.

“I know your old holo tags meant alot to you. There’s a jewelry maker in Diamond City now, so I got him to make these for you. I hope you like them. Happy anniversary.”

He put them back in the box and set it down on the workbench, before standing up and pulling them into a hug. He kissed the top of their head.

“They’re great. Thank you so much.”

Deacon: Deacon was sitting in their current hideout that doubled as a sniper's nest. He was up against the farthest wall from the vantage point, so the glowing end of his cigarette.

He heard someone starting to approach the door to his right. As he reached for his rifle he heard the knocking pattern that he and Sole had agreed upon as to not startle each other.

Sure enough, they stepped through the door, but they were carrying a box they had not left with. It was somewhat flat and medium sized. It didn’t seem to be heavy. He wondered what was inside.

“A present? For me? Aw you shouldn’t have,” he joked.

“Actually, it is a present. For you,” the responded, mimicking his tone. Despite that they were completely serious.

“Wait, what?” he blinked. It was hard to surprise him, and this certainly did the trick.

“Here,” they handed it to him, “open it”

He took it, suspicious of what they were up to. While he didn’t think it would hurt him, neither were strangers to playing pranks… on each other.

When he opened it, it took him a bit to realize what he was looking at. For a terrifying moment he thought it was some sort of dead animal, but when he picked it up he realized it was actually a rather high quality wig. It was dark brown styled into a simple hair style.

“What…?”

“Figured you could use a new one. One that doesn’t stand out as much.”

“Uh thank you, but why do I think there’s more to this,” he narrowed his eyes at them.

“I don’t know when your birthday is, so I figured I’d use the anniversary of us meeting to celebrate you surviving another year,” they shrugged.

“You know, today is actually my birthday,” he said. He kept his mask up, but he was incredibly touched. No one had gone out of their way for him like this in a long, long time.

“I don’t buy that for a second.”

“I taught you well,” he laughed.

Dogmeat (From Soles perspective): Sole picked up the leftover brahmin meat, and put it in a bowl. It was the good stuff. Stuff that cost a lot that they hardly ever got to have. They placed the bowl in front of a very excited Dogmeat. They had never seen such a happy dog.

“Happy birthday, buddy.”

“Is it really his birthday?” MacCready asked with a raised eyebrow.

“I have no idea. Today’s just the day I found him. Rather celebrate that than think about the War.”

“Right, well I think celebrating his birthday is a great alternative,” he laughed.

#fallout #fallout 4 #fo4 #fallout 4 companions #companions react #fo4 companions #cait fallout 4 #cait fo4 #codsworth #curie fo4 #curie fallout 4 #paladin danse #deacon fo4 #deacon fallout 4 #dogmeat

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storyteller-inn · 3 years

Note

Ok, so. This is just an example on how to use the Inn's Hosts, dear Wanderers. Let's try and ask something to Caratra, shall we? Like, for example, how would the original Avengers team react when meeting a new person that they, somehow, find themselves fancying straight away?

And if that is your request, then I, Caratra, shall answer in the best of my knowledge. You see, I have noticed, throughout the years, that by sitting aside and let life unravel before your own eyes, you begin to see people for who they really are. So let’s throw away all the masks and the prejudices, and see to the matter at hand.

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆

PART I

The relationship that Tony had with conferences was, to be honest, mixed. Especially when they were masked as a cocktail party. A part of him did enjoy the mingling, the chatting, the chance to talk to that particular big shot long enough to get on his nerves... The other, however, could definitely do without it all, as he found very difficult for the people in those big rooms to fully understand him and his work. Nothing was different in this particular occasion and, at the mercy of the rising boredom and impatience, he was sure about to find a way to sneak out of the place, when something caught his attention. A voice, strong and confident, the kind that does not accept “no” as an answer. Your voice. That was the first time he ever laid eye on you and, for Tony Stark, seeing someone barking orders right left and centre was positively a valid reason to get more interested. And so his eyes never really stopped following you around the room, watching with honest interest as he absent-mindedly carried on the conversation with one journalist or the next. He had plenty of time to notice how strict you were – clearly, you were a part of the team that organized this event – but, at the same time, how you were also trying to help your subordinates, always saving an encouraging smile for each one of them. Strength, compassion, kindness … definitely a kind of mix he was not used to find in these places. «In case you are wondering,» Happy chimed in, suddenly appearing at his side «that person you’ve been staring at, is today’s event coordinator. This is her first big soiree, but I’d dare say she’s doing a brilliant job». «And, tell me, Happy…» Tony replied not missing a beat, «…do you also happen to know her name?». «I’m afraid not, sir» the bodyguard noted apologetically. However, Tony’s spirit was everything but damped, as a grin slowly stretched on his face. «Then, my friend, I suggest I go and find out immediately» he said confidently, not even waiting for Happy to reply as he started making his way towards you.

Steve was worried. It didn't really matter how many times he tried to repeat to himself that it was probably nothing serious, or that he did everything he could. There was something wrong, and the doubt of what it could actually be was slowly gnawing away his confidence. Swallowing hard, he mustered up all of his courage and looked down at the little ball curled up on his lap. Roscoe was only a couple of months old and in Steve’s care since Bucky and Sam decided to surprise him with a German Shepherd’s puppy for his birthday. And despite his initial complaints – where could he find the time to take care of a dog? – he soon fell in love with the little fluffy critter. Hence his extreme worries when Roscoe started to lack his usual energy and enthusiasm, all of a sudden. «Mister Rogers?» a voice shook him from his thoughts. A young woman was standing in front of him, wearing a white coat and a radiant smile. That is, at least, the first two details he noticed and that, somehow, made him feel slightly less anxious. Was it the fact that the vet was finally going to take a look at Roscoe, or that warm smile would have worked even without her professional attire? «Yes» he muttered shoving those thoughts aside and scooping up the puppy in his arms as he got on his feet. «This way, please» you invited, showing him to the nearest available examination room. Reluctantly, Steve laid down Roscoe on the metal table. «So, mister Rogers,» you started, visually assessing the dog as you were putting on a pair of gloves, «I see you are pretty worried. What does it seem to be the problem with the little one here?». Did he look indeed that worried? «Well, this is Roscoe. I got him about a week ago and everything was fine, until one day he started to act… strange. Sadder, less energetic» he explained, scratching the back of his head. You simply nodded, answering with a quick hu-uh as you started to examine the puppy. «I don’t know what happened» Steve continued, «I honestly don’t think he ate anything odd, I was with him at all times. And it’s not like he stopped eating, or drinking, or sleeping». He noticed the careful and gentle way you were passing your hands on Roscoe’s body, the extreme care you took when testing his legs, tummy and back. Something about it put him at ease, and helped stopping the flow of words that threatened to flood out of his mouth. But he still found himself holding his breath as you finally straightened up and looked at him. «Mister Rogers…» you said, contemplating your next words, «…there is no external sign that would suggest Roscoe is not well. Apart from one». Steve’s heart sank at those words, but before he could utter anything at all, a swift movement of your hand unbuckled the collar on the dog’s neck. And, as if by magic, the puppy perked up with a joyful bark and started to jump on the examination table. Saying that Steve was gobsmacked would be an understatement. «But… How…» he barely managed to whisper. «He is still not used to the collar» you laughed, playfully stroking the now very active Roscoe on the head, «And he’s probably been a bit overdramatic about it. It happens more often than you would think, don’t worry». Only then, Steve finally lifted his gaze and, with all of his fears gone, he finally noticed your glittering eyes and your cheerful expression… and that warm, reassuring smile. It did take him a while. A lot of overthinking to do, doubts to dispel and courage to muster. And a couple of nervous walks in and out the clinic. But he finally did asked you out, on that same day, as a way too happy puppy barked his consent and jumped all around the two of you.

The Warbling Bard could be considered somewhat of a rarity here on Midgard, especially for the God of Thunder. The medieval-inspired furniture, the authentic two meters long fireplace, the catchy tavern-like music... He would never admit it out loud, but Thor did miss Asgard when forced to remain on Earth to help the Avengers, and this this cozy pub in the suburbs was the only place where he could try and breathe an atmosphere similar to home. The beer, also, was pretty fantastic. «Are you actually looking for an opponent, or that cue in your hands serves more like a cane?» a voice suddenly brought him back from his nostalgia-filled thoughts. But he did not act as if he was caught unaware: he simply took another gulp from his beer, put down the tankard on the green felt table and turned... only to find a woman, with a knowing grin painted on her face and another cue gripped in her hand. Thor raised his eyebrows, surprised by how the stranger approached him, but he would have lied if he said that the first impression she made was a bad one. Quite on the contrary, to be honest. «Oh, if you're too drunk, forget playing» you continued, sarcastically hinting at his lack of verbal response, «I do not pick on people that cannot defend themselves». The Asgardian erupted in a booming laugh. «Drunk? My lady, it will take way more than a couple of beers to render me useless» he replied confidently, «And even then, I could easily crush my adversary». You smirked. «Is that a challenge?». Thor mimicked your expression, the spark of competition glittering in his eyes. He was certainly not expecting to meet someone like you that evening, but there was something... fresh about you, and fiery, like a spring gale swinging the windows open and flooding the room. An invigorating and well-welcomed change of pace, compared to what the God of Thunder had been used to in the past few days. He quickly turned around, slid two fingers in his mouth and whistled to the barman. «Jeffrey, I need two tankards here!» he called out to the friend, «Large ones, please». By the end of the evening - and after countless drinks - Thor was very much surprised to see that you had managed to keep up with both his playful banter and the game. You might have also won, if a gentleman that had one too many did not trip and spill half of his beer on you, forcing you to take your leave a bit too early - for Thor's taste, at least. But even if he thought that that had been the best evening he had had in a long while, none of his cheerful expressions could have matched his smile when, repositioning the balls in the centre of the table, he found a quickly scribbled note... with your name and the date and time for a rematch.

The gym was quiet that day. Most of the agents were probably out anyway, trying to sort the mess that was New York City after the Chitauri's attack. Natasha had already done her part, when it came to that particular problem. Teaming up with a group of incredibly gifted people – and super humans. And gods – was not exactly part of her initial plan. She always preferred to work alone after all. But she did find something in that group of people, something she had missed for so long that she was not even certain she was still capable of experiencing. Opening up to others, trusting others was always something that exposed her to risks, and that was definitely not part of her job. That feeling, however… Natasha sprang forward, twirling on herself to deliver a powerful kick to the sand bag. She didn’t want to think about it now. Not when she basically had this S.H.I.E.L.D. facility’s gym all to herself. Or at least, so she thought. The agent felt you entering the room even without turning around. And either you failed to recognize her or you were keeping to yourself, avoiding congratulating her or expressing your admiration for her – like at least ten other operatives did on her way to the gym. That, in Natasha’s eyes, was definitely worth points. She returned to her training, but instinctively kept an eye on your movements - after all, the two of you were the only people in the room. And it was exactly by monitoring you that, ten minutes after, Natasha noticed that you were watching her. She shrugged, returning to hit the bag in front of her. But even after another few moments, she still couldn’t help but feel your eyes on her. You were not even trying to hide it: you were staring at her, plain and simple. The agent finally stopped her array of kicks, sighed loudly and turned towards you. «May I help you?» she asked, letting a tinge of irritation color her question. «Uh, sorry» you quickly apologized, realizing your gaze might actually have been slightly intrusive, «It’s just… your form. It’s very peculiar». «Peculiar? It’s simple combat training. Like the one you probably went through yourself» she merely commented, stretching one leg. You shook your head. «Not really. The way you fight is definitely more accurate and lethal than what I normally see around here. It’s also more… angry». Natasha quirked an eyebrow. «Angry, as if there is something troubling you, deep down» you clarified. The red-haired spy was confused, but she recovered quickly enough to object. «This pretty psychological analysis is interesting, but I can assure you are only seeing what you want to see». With a confidence that surprised both Natasha and yourself, you stood up from the bench you had been sitting on and approached the other woman. «I can prove it to you». And just like that, without any sort of warning, you lunged at her, throwing a turning kick that she readily parried with a gesture of her arm. Natasha would have probably complained, but you did not give her the time to voice her thoughts, so she simply focused her frustration and retaliated. But time after time, kick after kick, her disciplined form started to change and, despite being precise and deadly, the spy began to resembled more of a storm than the precise, lethal weapon she had been trained to be. A tempestuous sea of wild waves, that seemed to have little to no effect against the calm and precise technique her opponent was using. Until the spy had enough, and managed to catch you by surprise with a low kick that made you fall flat on the floor. She was Natasha Romanoff, after all. The two of you looked at each other for a couple of moment, panting from the intense sparring. And before you could say anything, Natasha extended a hand towards you, helping you back on your feet. «That was fun» you smiled, combing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. «Yeah» the other woman simply replied, her shoulders not so tense as before. Satisfied, you went back to collect the gym bag you left by the bench and made your way towards the door. «Hey» you called out, turning towards her one last

time. «It's ok to be angry. Or confused. But we don't always have to deal with it on our own». And just like that, you flipped the bag back on your shoulder and flashed Natasha a kind smile before leaving the room. The spy stood there for a few more minutes, unmoving, still focused on that spot in front of the door where you had been just a moment before. Somehow, she felt lighter, as if the weight of those storming doubts was lifted, giving her the space to breathe more freely. And, somehow, a smile began to stretch on her face. Maybe, after all, she could be ready to start letting some people in.

#storyteller inn #hosts #caratra #avengers #marvel #scenarios #preferences #headcanons #iron man #tony stark #thor #steve rogers #captain america #black widow #natasha romanoff

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themidnightfarmer · 3 years

Text

Bushwhacked || Mina & Jared

Timing: This past week sometime.

Location: Town somewhere

Tagging: @drowningisinevitable

Description: Found hiding out, Mina kindly helps Jared commit a crime.

Triggers: None <3

He was incredibly tired, but he hadn’t been able to get the thought out of his mind. Jared left the farm for the first time in a week only to find himself in the bushes outside the general store in town. It was ridiculous really, but all 6 foot 1 of him was currently hunkered down as low as he could get without being completely flat out. He wasn’t very good at hiding like this, he wasn’t very good at ‘sneaky’ at all really. So it was no wonder when his protruding foot caught the attention of a passing person by tripping them up a little. In the nymphs panic about being potentially caught by his target he shushed the woman and waved a hand for her to get down as well. “Down, down!! I can’t get caught, come on help a guy out!” he pleaded in what he hoped wasn’t as pathetic a tone as he heard himself. “.......you didn’t happen to see the man in the long coat did you? I can’t see anything from in here…”

Walking was kind of awful, especially when Mina did it for too long. But it was nothing that she hadn’t felt before, and it was nothing that she couldn’t grow used to. She simply had to push through it. She was so busy putting one foot in front of the other that she didn’t even notice the large foot poking out front behind a bush. She tripped, her bad leg giving out a bit as she stumbled, trying to catch herself. She was so startled she didn’t realize that she was near another Fae until she was on hunched down next to the man, trying not to grimace against the pain. “I-- alright, alright!” She stuck her head out, trying to see if there was anyone around them that matched his description. “I didn’t see any sort of man, unfortunately, no.” She crouched back behind the the bush. “Is there a reason we’re-- you’re looking for a man in a long coat?”

Jared was usually very intune with others, if he’d been paying attention like usual he’d have noticed that the other was uncomfortable in her place beside him and apologize for causing any issues. But as it was, he was very intent on finding out anything he could about where the man in the coat had traded his goods. Eyes on the door to the store again he absently responded to the woman. “He’s trading illegally, and what he’s trading isn’t being treated right.” Jared felt the tingling in his fingertips then as he readjusted his position to poke his own head out the top of the bushes once again. It distracted him a little and he looked back at the woman curiously, finally giving her the attention he should. “....you’re uh…?”

“What is he trading?” Mina asked, now more than a bit interested in what was going on. She’d been languishing in the pool for far too long, unable to train or help anyone in anyway. She felt useless. But… if someone, some man in a trench coat, was doing things that he wasn’t supposed to be, well… perhaps she could help out. She looked at the store, then back at the man next to her. The Fae next to her. She swallowed a bit and smiled weakly. “Yes, and so are you?” She didn’t go into detail about what she was. They were both Fae, that was supposed to be all that mattered, right? She did have to fight against the unease. Fae weren’t wrong. She wasn’t wrong. She had to keep telling herself that. Her dad had just been confused. She was beginning to like Deirdre, and she thought of Felix fondly. This was fine. “I’m, ah, Mina. My name is Mina.”

“Animals.” was the simple answer. And it was what Jared decided to stick to, even if the other was fae as well that didn’t mean they shared the same outlook on his kids. His trust in his kind had been shattered recently and it was going to be hard to claw back. He did however nod back in agreement when asked if he was as well. No need to hide it, they could tell if he was one just as he could tell if she was. “Jared.” he introduced in return. “That guy has passed on a poorly treated animal to someone and I want to find out who and take it back…. It’s a little bit like dognapping but...for the best of the animal if that makes sense?” he left out the part where he could feel the anguish of the creature still so it must be semi close to their location. “Will you help me? I think that guy is getting really suspicious of me….but if I had a new face it might work out. Not asking you to do anything wild just help me keep an eye on him?” It was a lot to ask a stranger, but she hadn’t stood up and left so he had hopes that she was at least intrigued enough to help him watch for a while.

“Animals,” Mina repeated back slowly, before giving the man a nod. She could work with just the word animals. She’d helped her dad with jobs that had less information than that. She took in his name, but that was secondary to what was going on. So, what Jared was doing was illegal. But… what happened before also seemed illegal. Was this two wrongs making a right? She didn’t know Jared, and she had no naturally innate abilities to figure out whether or not he was truly honest in his intentions, but-- but he seemed earnest. He seemed to genuinely want to help this animal, and he also seemed to genuinely want her help. And Mina wanted nothing more than to be useful. She really wanted to be useful. “Okay, I’ll help you with this,” she said carefully. She lifted up her the leg of her pants, showing him the bandages wrapping her leg. “I won’t be able to do any sort of running or anything like that, but I can offer a fresh pair of eyes, and I can… handle my own should any sort of situation happen.” She hoped it didn’t come to that. She had no idea to hurt humans, even if they were bad. “I want to help you.”

The nymph smiled widely when she agreed to help him with this. It would be much easier to keep an eye on the man when one of them didn’t have to be hiding in bushes all the time. Jared was pretty noticeable because of his height, not to mention he was confident he’d been spotted at least in 3 different locations by the man only today, and that can’t be taken as anything but suspicious. “Thanks, no need to be doing any running or anything wild, we’re all stealth today I just want to know where he gets the animals, and maybe see the person he just left the dog with.” He tripped over the word dog noticeably but tried to play it off with a small fake coughing fit just after. He is pounding on his chest as if the coughing had been real only to stop abruptly and whisper frantically. “We gotta move he’s off into the next store!”

“No need to thank me, really,” Mina said, remembering Deirdre’s thoughts on thanks. She was trying to curb herself on saying that word, on owing people and having them owe her. And Jared seemed kind, and he seemed to care about the animals that they were trying to find. He didn’t need to owe her anything. “Are you alright?” she asked as he started coughing. She reached out, only to stop short instead of patting his back. He might not like to be touched. It was rude to just touch people without their permission. However, he straightened up relatively quickly, and she looked to see that a man matching Jared’s description was leaving a store. “Okay, okay, let’s follow him. And, ah, try not to look too suspicious? Casual. Let’s try to look casual.” Mina had been a part of enough stakeouts and tailing situations that she knew how to look casual in situations like this. They left the cover of the bushes and started following after the man in question, keeping a reasonable distance away from him.

Looking casual was easier said than done. Jared couldn’t seem to get his limbs to remember how he walked on a day to day basis, he was half creeping like a silent film villain and half taking long strides to keep up. He kept his head looking to the side, he was certainly not made for stealth like this. Not in the daylight and on the street at least. When the man in the coat turned to look back Jared fully ducked into a doorway. Despite his suspicious action he wasn’t seen and the man in the coat drew up alongside a car and leaned down to speak to the person inside. A wriggling blanket seen in the car trunk through the glass. “Look look, there’s the animal! I knew he hadn’t been paid yet, of course they’d linger around.” He hissed before looking at her worriedly. “Do you think we could….it’s a lot to ask but…. distract?”

Equal parts amused and bemused as she crept after the man with Jared, Mina followed after him as best as she could. He was much taller and nimble, despite his awkward gait, but she managed to keep up with him. As soon as the saw the man struggling with the animal, though, she was decided. She said she would help. This solidified it. The worried look on Jared’s face, the way that the poor creature had been put in the boot of a car. This wasn’t right. It wasn’t right at all. “We can definitely distract, of course we can. Just… how do you want to do this?” she asked. Her palms were sweating a bit, scales breaking out on the backs of her hands. She rubbed at them. “I could throw something, or we could try and talk to him.” Potentially promise bind him into giving them the animal back, though she had no idea how that would go. It could go very, very well, like when she’d managed to promise bind a man all those months ago in the Stacked Deck. Or it could go, for lack of a better phrase, piss poor. Mina didn’t have the best track record with promises.

“I don’t think this guy is very dangerous, just really shifty you know? Deals in things he shouldn’t. He’s seen me before being…..admittedly equally as shifty while I was following him but he doesn’t know you at all, he looked back at you and didn’t say a word do you think...you could ask them for directions? I could pop the trunk and have the critter in my arms in no time. Of course you don’t have to if you feel weird, I do know it’s a lot to ask of someone I just met.” Jared tried to explain his plan but felt rather guilty. He'd understand if she didn’t want to do it, but it was all that came to mind. He was actively horrible at being a fae, and as such he hadn’t even considered attempting to promise bind anyone. He always seemed to resort to human movie tactics, and they surprisingly worked a lot of the time. He figured this was likely because no one expected anyone to employ them in real life.

“Shifty, right, got it.” Mina could handle shifty. Truthfully, a lot of humans, people in generally, really, in this town were quite shifty. She herself was occasionally shifty, had done plenty of shifty, even harmful, things in her life. She couldn’t fault Jared for being shifty, not really. “I can distract them, yes, just… I need a moment. But I’ll walk over and, ah, start talking. I’m pretty good at rambling, so… You should have plenty of time.” Mina was a very good distraction, and she could do this. She gave Jared a nod and then limped, a bit over exaggeratingly, over to the two men talking. They stopped when she arrived, frowning and staring at her, and she gave them a nervous smile. No acting was needed for that. “Hi! I’m so sorry to bother you, but I’m just-- I hurt myself a bit ago, and it’s still kind of sore and-- I’m really lost--” The first small lie made her immediatly start to feel sick, but she pushed through it, “Do you think you could point me in the direction of a gas station, maybe? Again, I’m so sorry, I’m really sorry. I’m usually not so scatterbrained! But I’ve got all these test coming up, and I don’t feel great, and, wow, is it kind of hot out here? Weird for December, huh?” She fanned herself, the two men appearing increasingly concerned with every word that came out of her mouth and, oh, there it was. Her nose started bleeding. They rushed over to her as she squeezed her nose, trying to stem the bleeding. She hoped this bought Jared enough time.

He watched her go with trepidation, Jared didn’t want to put someone in harm's way with this issue but he was pleased that he was allowed to be right about some strangers, not everyone was so bad. She was kind to be helping with such little information. Mina started to rumble and Jared stifled an encouraging grin so as not to distract her. With both mens eyes on her he crept up behind the car. With as little sound as he could he reached up to press the button on the trunk. Hand on the lid he eased it open, glancing through the back window as he stood up to check on his accomplice. He was shocked to see blood and instantly got a move on. He took off his coat and bundled it over the top of the creature in the back, discarding the blanket over the top of a toolbox in the hopes that it would fair as a decoy. Standing up straighter he tucked the moving bundle under one arm and tried his best to cover the noises with a cough, coming around the car to put a tentative hand on Minas shoulder. “Hey, I’ll give you a ride home okay?” he offered kindly. Looking up at the suspicious dealer, and the curious buyer in turn and then hoping Mina would catch on. “Been looking for you for ages you know? Here.” he handed her a handkerchief with his free hand for her nose and tucked the creature behind her back with the other as he stuck close. Managing only bearly to hold the creature with one hand as he pretended to put a comforting hand on her back.

“Oh!” Mina startled as Jared came up behind her, so busy with her ramblings that she hadn’t even noticed him. She took the handkerchief appreciatively and used it to stem the bit of blood coming out of her nose. “Goodness, there you are. I was just telling these gentlemen that I was lost. I’m so glad you’re here. She looked at the men, hoping that they were too confused by her and this entire situation to attempt to try and talk to them much more as she walked away with Jared, using her body to shield the little bundle he was carrying with them. “Don’t look back at them,” she murmured. “I’m going to laugh like you said something extraordinarily funny,” and she did, though it was in part because of all the nerves. “And we’re just going to keep walking until we’re far enough away.” And they did, though her ankle was killing her. Mina had walked through far, far worse conditions. This was nothing. She was just glad to help Jared, as she looked curiously at the squirming thing that he was holding. “You were able to get the animal, I see.”

Jared was incredibly anxious as they made their way down the street, he couldn’t even manage to play along very convincingly as she laughed at nothing. His own returning laugh was so strained he felt it must have gained them unwanted attention, which just served to make him more antsy as they moved. They walked and walked, Jared could have sworn he heard the car engine turn on as well but he did as he was told and didn’t even attempt to glance behind them until they were around a corner and out of sight. Flattening his back against the wall he clutched the bundle to his chest and sighed in relief. He could feel the creature in his arms, sedated but alive. “We did, crap we totally pulled it off.” He shifted the blankets in his arms a little and a small patch of frizzy fur was exposed before a small nose poked out of the fabric. “And she’s gorgeous, a little battered but she’ll heal.” He beamed at Mina then. “You did me a huge favor just then.” the idea of being in debt to her was heavy on his mind so he offered instead. “I’ll have to get you some coffee or flowers in return, sound good?”

“We did, well, you did! I just helped!” Mina smiled at the other fae. This was nice. This was pleasant. He wasn’t a monster, she wasn’t a monster. There were just two people, helping a small animal. “Oh, no, it wasn’t a favor. I just helped to help. You don’t owe me for this, I assure you.” She’d done this because she wanted to, not because she ever thought this would end with her gaining something. Mina didn’t like when people owed her; it made her feel strange. Instead, she got a closer look at the creature in Jared’s arms, only to leap back, stumbling a bit. “Oh my,” she said, eyes wide. She looked up at him, perplexed. “That’s-- You--” He had a monster. He was holding a monster, and he wasn’t trying to kill it, and what was she supposed to do with this information? “What?”

There was a wash of relief when she released him from the sense of owing her a favor of some kind. It was nice to think that not all fae tried their hardest to trap others in their words. He tried so hard not to himself after all, he’d thought maybe it was a leftover trait from growing up in a human household. Her reaction as the pup snuffled her way out of the blanket blearily caused Jared to recoil from MIna, just as she had from him and the bundle. He rushed, he wanted this kind fae to understand. “I’m a nymph. Vicious creatures...she’s like a part of me, I couldn’t just leave her to be mistreated… you can understand that right?” He looked at her pleadingly, if this went poorly she might just turn the corner and flag down the car setting out to drive away. “She doesn’t deserve to be mistreated.”

Swallowing tightly, Mina looked at the Fae in front of her with new eyes. A nymph of vicious creatures. A nymph of beast. But the creature in his arms didn’t look particularly vicious. It was small and gentle-looking, and Mina felt a bit sick that her first thought upon seeing it had been that it should be hurt. But a beast was a beast. Except when it wasn’t. If the two of them, she and this kind fae who had been nothing but polite and only wanted to help small creatures, could be considered as something more than monsters, if she could be friends with zombies and werewolves, then could a beast like the one before her be something that didn’t need to be put down? Dogs only needed to be put down when they were rabid, when they were a danger. This creature didn’t look like a danger. Not presently, at least. “I understand,” she said, truth in her words even if her voice was slightly strangled. “You-- it-- She doesn’t deserve to be mistreated. No matter what she is.” Mina felt somewhat faint. The longer she was in this town, the more everything that she’d once understood to be truth seemed to be twisting and turning itself into something she could no longer properly recognize. “I understand.”

The hint of a smile returned to Jared's face as he seemed to have encouraged the other fae to really think about the situation. She was quiet for a moment and then she spoke in confirmation of what he’d said. It felt wonderful to have changed her mind in this moment, even if it was ONLY this moment, he’d take it. The car drove past the corner of the street they were standing in and Jared covered over the blanket in his arms with his coat, hoisting the small creature closer to him as she began to wake up properly. “I really appreciate all your help, she’s going to get the care she needs because of you. It’s a kind thing you’ve done for us.” Looking up and down the street Jared stepped away from the wall he’d been leaning on and one handedly dug around in his pocket for his phone. “Can I give you my number, if you ever run into anything you need help with creature wise I can take a look for you or something. But I really have to get her out of the sunlight, people might talk if they see her you know.”

Swallowing, Mina took Jared’s phone, putting his number in hers before handing it back to him. She sent him a text, a simple “this is mina” to let him know her number. “I--” She’d done it, originally, to be kind. No creature should suffer. She’d grown up believing that. But she’d also grown up believing that creatures like that were monsters. The only way to ensure they didn’t suffer, didn’t hurt themselves or others, was to do away with them. “I try to be kind,” she said quietly, looking away from him. “It was good to meet you, Jared.” And it was, good in a way that didn’t feel particularly good, though it did feel eye-opening. She looked back up at him and gave him a small smile. “I will keep that in mind, I appreciate it. Go. I’m sure you need to get i-- her somewhere safe. You stay safe,” she said, meaning it. Jared seemed like the kind of guy to get himself into trouble trying to do something like this. It was a little worrying. But she gave him a wave, made sure that he and the little creature were not being followed, and then started walking away, shaking her head a bit. Mina didn’t really know how to feel.

#P: Chatzy #C: Mina #drowningisinevitable #C: Jared

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cosmcther · 3 years

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I’ve been wanted to make a post on the Domes of the Comet Observatory. There are a few things that I have different than the source material in my head, so writing them down sounds like a good idea. Big long post under the cut.

General stuff. There are six in total: The Terrace, the Fountain, the Kitchen, the Bedroom, the Engine Room, and the Garden. The Domes themselves are bigger on the inside, think the Tar.dis from Do.ct.or W.ho. Just about all of them are little pocket universes that Rosalina expanded on once her powers developed further. Prior to that, they were regular rooms that the Lumas and she built. Once she gained the power to do so, pocket universes were placed inside the rooms to give them more space. That’s why the Beacon is needed to open the doors up. Each entrance is the so-called portals to the private dimension.

The Terrace: This Dome is used as a typical observatory room that you would find in the real world. The walls are lined with star maps, celestial clocks are scattered about, and orreries are hung up near them, many on shelves and on tables near the corners. They show the motions of countless planets and the relationship they share, making sure that if any planet out there goes off-course, a reference can be made as to how it should look. The ceiling is made of glass, and the room seems to always be at night, moonlight and shimmering stars shining through the skylight. Near the center, a high-powered telescope can be used to view stars. The sound of this room is also quite pleasant, what with the constant quiet ticking and shifting of the orreries.

The Fountain: Meditation is the main use of this Dome. Sometimes, Rosalina can get overwhelmed and will need a moment to reconnect herself with the world around her. It’s a problem she faces rather often, a session of meditation will be what she needs to recenter. The room’s water is cool to the touch, trickling noises from the slow-moving water filling the walls. Other peaceful nature sounds can be heard, like unseen birds or crickets. It helps Rosalina to swish a foot through the water and feel the slight chill of it, or perhaps listening to the sounds around her processing what noises are being made by what creature.

The Kitchen: This one is more simple, as the name is pretty self-explanatory. It’s the kitchen for the Comet Observatory. It’s where Star Bits are kept and other food items are stored. Your general cooking appliances are inside, just... pardon the high countertops, please. They’re suited for Rosalina in specific and she is far from a regular height.

The Bedroom: Another simple one. Rosalina’s bedroom isn’t anything farfetched or out of the ordinary. Just regal, much as the majority of things associated with her. It’s a four-post bed with a canopy and curtains, velvet sheets, comfortable pillows. A standard bedroom, as stated before.

The Engine Room: At first glance, the engine room doesn’t seem like anything even close to its namesake. It’s a simple circular room with a metal grating framing the hard steel center. For it’s under the hood that the true engine room earns its name. Truthfully, this is the only dome that lacks the magical pocket dimension effect the rest own. This dome is build into the Comet Observatory’s center spire, allowing it downward access into the entirety of the Comet Observatory.

The floor inside this dome serves as an elevator that can take you to several levels of machinery that keeps the Observatory running. Inside is an admittedly quite hot and stuffy collection of gears, pipes, metal, and other mechanical guts as far as the eye can see. One would need a map the size of Pluto to maneuver through here. That’s why it’s mainly Rosalina, Polari, and a select number of adult Lumas that go down there for maintenance purposes.

The Garden: The final dome, and certainly the largest in presentation. Inside this dome is a large and lively garden furnished with tranquil ponds and streams, rock gardens with bushes smattered with berries of all sorts. Most of which aren’t from Earth. Yes, this is an interstellar garden, of course. Bugs and fish that reside in here are from all across the cosmos.

Oftentime strays that accidentally wandered onto the Observatory in the critters’ collective sense, only realizing that they were on-board after take-off. As for the fish, many were born if not specifically bought for the garden. It’s quite the menagerie indeed!

And while it is not a proper dome, The Library: A comfortable and low-lit area for quiet conversations or general relaxation. Pillows are scattered about the room for sitting or resting, along with a collection of blankets tucked away in the corner. There exists rolling ladders and stepping stools for book-grabbing, as well. Low-down tables best used with floor seats or cushions should you desire a sit-down with a good book.

Speaking of which, literature from all across the cosmos exists on those endless walls of books. Many of them are written in languages unknown to the general populous of Earth, but Rosalina would be more than happy to give a translation. Storybooks, history books, fiction and non-fiction. Thrillers, pop-ups, mysteries... why, if there’s a genre you’ve an itch for, it’s more than likely that there’s a book in here for you.

Extras-

The Comet Observatory is modeled off of interstellar beacons, explaining its rather pointed design. For the knowledgeable that make frequent space travel, it’s clear as day that Rosalina’s Observatory is made to represent a safe haven. A floating location of repose for any weary traveler in need of a pitstop and lucky enough to stumble across her ship within the depths of space. Even during its aimless drifting, Rosalina comes across plenty of random visitors.

At the very entrance of the Comet Observatory, the large circular and glass platform operates as a lift onto the ship proper whenever it’s landed. The Observatory itself remains in a constant levitation, never truly touching down. So it’s this circular glass platform that shifts from its position and lowers onto solid ground, allowing others to step upon it and raise up into the Comet Observatory.

If you’re the type without easy access to flight, it’s still plenty easy to get around the Comet Observatory’s tiered design. Handy dandy warp pads and their individual light lines are scattered across the ship’s floors, landlocked visitors needing but to step into one of the glowing green switches to have yourself transported somewhere else in mere moments! It’s a little discombobulating, but it’s been said it’s better than a Launch Star.

The Comet Observatory can technically travel through time. It’s not a playground that Rosalina frequents, but with full power, speeds can reach points fast enough to jump through space and time. In a similar vein, it can also traverse alternate realities. Such is the technicality for the Luigi playthrough unlocked through 100% completion in the original Galaxy game. Again, while not a skillset Rosalina flexes often, the ability is there.

The Gate to the in-game named Gateway Galaxy acts as the outer-reaches of the Comet Observatory’s breathable atmosphere. Anything past that and the cold depths of space can and will have its way with you.

Underneath the floorboards of Rosalina’s bedroom resides a collection of music boxes. They’re her favorite ‘instrument’ so to speak, an instant reminder to childhood, when life was simple.

#(HEADCANON.) ''Rewriting the constellations.''#(SAVED.) ''Trinkets through time.''#((FINALLY got this done; this has been in the drafts for eons; my god))

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pluto-art · 4 years

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Out of the Cold, Out of the Cavern

Type: Fan fiction (PatB) / Self-insert/Y/N/OC (sort of...) Genre: Hurt/Comfort (what else?) Words: 4,841 Rating: K+

Fan Fiction Link: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13724127/1/Out-of-the-Cold-Out-of-the-Cavern

As usual, I recommend the fan fiction version, which includes all of the italicized words.

Thanks to @shuunthenonbeliever, I was inspired to finally write this. :)

“One-sixty… one-eighty… two hundred,” the plump woman said, sliding a packet of bills off her jewel-laden fingers and into yours, like water pouring out of a spout.

“Thank you,” you replied, hesitant to pocket the load with those two, round, black eyes still staring at you, burrowing into your soul. They belonged to a young girl, nine or ten in age, perhaps, with short, auburn hair, her little white and turquoise dress bouncing up and down as she rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet, waiting, watching.

“She’ll need watch every weekday from three to nine,” instructed the woman, barely even looking at you or her daughter as she checked her purse for something. “If you have any trouble you have my work number.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“But you’ll be no trouble. Will you, Elmyra?”

“Oh, no, Ma’am. Nopey nopey nope! We’re gonna have so much fun laughing and cuddling and playing with all my fuzzy whittle animals!” screeched the girl, in a voice that scratched like sandpaper.

“Yes, dear. Be good to your new babysitter, all right? Mommy has to go to work now.”

“Bye byeeeeeee!!” Elmyra waved, smiling widely in mock innocence as her mother stepped out the door.

“Bye,” you called out, a bit half-heartedly.

As soon as the door snapped closed, Elmyra turned to look at you expectantly, beaming.

“All right. She’s gone. You can go play with your pets,” you said.

“Yaaaaaaaay!! I’m coming, my fuzzy whuzzies!”

And off she hopped, skipping down the hall and around a corner ever so gayly, to a spot that you knew to be her bedroom, where all manner of horrible and unspeakable things happened.

You turned, leaned against the front door, and inhaled a long, deep breath of air, practically sliding against the thing as you counted out the greens in your hand -- one one-hundred, a fifty, a ten, and two twenties. Yep. Checked out.

You pocketed the loose change, paused, then got up and stuck it in your backpack instead. It’s not like it was going anywhere for a while. Besides, you hated carrying around more than you needed to in your small pants pockets.

Tossing the backpack next to the living room couch, you collapsed onto said couch and took a gander at your new surroundings.

It was a quaint little abode. Could have done with a new paint job, perhaps, but the yellow interior and old-style furniture wasn’t completely abhorrent. The whole cottage was rather cute, in its own weird way, sporting the occasional gothic chandelier that would have looked much more at home in Edward Scissorhands’ house, or a wastebasket that was far too frilly and posh to even be used for its original purpose. But the seating was comfortable, the cable was working, and, best of all, the fridge, stuffed to its seams, was, according to Mrs. Duff, 100% at your disposal. If there was anything that solidified a job offer for you, it was free food.

Not that the job was all chipper and charm. You knew what you were getting into when you took it, and the intermittent screams coming from Elmyra’s bedroom, as well as the cat that nearly bit your finger off from earlier as you tried to coax him out from under the kitchen table, were stark reminders of that. Everyone in the city of Burbank knew who the Duff family was, whether it was personally or from the horror stories passed down the school halls. Most who visited their house, unless they were a close family friend or relative, never wanted to step back in it again. It was common knowledge that you only went to Elmyra’s if you wanted a nice, long day of yelling and suffering, and all in your dorm would have rather died than take on the job of babysitter when it was posted online. But you took it. You took it… partially ‘cause you had no choice. What with a full-time college schedule and not much else in the cupboard save for ramen and three-day-old apples, cash was in short supply and desperately needed, and even though the last thing you’d rather do was keep watch over this kid, you also couldn’t find a job anywhere else. Besides, the pay was good. Excellent, in fact. Two hundred every Friday. You might even splurge on Chinese this weekend.

Sliding the remote off the thick, wooden table, you flipped through the channels, one-by-one, finally landing on National Geographic. The narrator was deep in discussion about the living habits of bats. Appropriate, you thought, as Elmyra flitted out of the room, make-shift cape trailing behind her and blindfold on, zoomed into the kitchen and grabbed a packet of cookies before zipping back into her room, sounding very much like a bat as she laughed in a loud, screeching tone the entire time. You did a double-take as she slammed the door behind her. Were there… other voices coming from the room? No. That’s silly. You shook your head. Crazy.

The next couple of hours went by surprisingly uneventfully; so much so, in fact, that you wondered if there was any basis in the rumors that floated around about the Duff residence being a literal “house of horror”. Some even said the place was haunted. It wasn’t until 6:55 PM, when you went to remind Elmyra that dinner was almost ready, that you got a whiff that things weren’t… quite what they seemed.

Of the menagerie loose throughout the house, Elmyra owned a total of one cat, a parrot, a turtle, and two white mice. The turtle hid. The parrot squawked. And the mice? The mice… talked.

“Narf! Hello there!” the taller of the two said, as you meandered into the room. You cocked an eyebrow and hesitantly lifted a hand to wave at him.

“Hi…,” you replied, a little taken aback.

The shorter mouse didn’t look up at you. His focus was heavily trained on a notepad rife with complex calculations far beyond your intellect. He was scribbling away as if his life depended on it. He also called you a “disposable hindrance”, albeit indirectly to his associate, something you didn’t entirely appreciate, but you also didn’t dare talk back. Not yet.

“Oooo. Munchie time! Come on, little mousies!” Elmyra cheered, and she grabbed both rodents tight around the neck with her short, groping fingers, stuffing them into her shirt pocket as she ran out of the room and in the direction of the kitchen.

You stood behind for a moment, nonplussed. Okay then.

A soft shuffling down the hallway made you turn. It was the cat. He still looked quite wary of you.

“Hey, kitty,” you cooed, gently but not in a childish fashion; more like you were simply greeting a friend. “You gonna let me pet you this time?” you asked, bending down and holding out a hand for him to sniff.

Tenderly, cautiously, the cat stepped up to you, wagging its tail slightly behind him. You narrowed your eyes. A wagging tail wasn’t necessarily a good thing, especially when it came to cats, but this was… different. The closer he got to you the more he wagged it, as if he was… excited? Curious? He sniffed your hand… and licked it. Odd. Then he peered up into your face, lolled out a long, pink tongue, and barked.

You sat back a little, wide-eyed, as the cat-dog jumped up onto your legs and actually started licking your face. It was… weird. Cute, but… weird.

After a few hearty licks, the cat, satisfied, jumped back down, scratched itself, and ran off to play with a ball. You wondered why he hadn’t come up to you before. Perhaps he still had more of the cat than the dog in him. You also now understood why some people claimed that this house was “haunted”. Two talking mice and a barking cat. Not exactly “spooky”, under your terms, but definitely unusual. You wondered what other treasures this quirky household held. Pirate bones? Dinosaurs? You had to admit it was rather exciting.

Shuffling back into the kitchen, you found Elmyra at the table, greedily shoveling the macaroni and cheese you’d made for her into her mouth as she watched a cartoon program on tv. The mice sat beside her in a little highchair, both now dressed as infants, the big-headed one looking absolutely miserable. Now and again, Elmyra would shovel a huge spoonful of mac and cheese into one or the other’s mouth against their will. Lanky mouse didn’t seem to mind it too much. Grumpy mouse turned to look at you with an expression that read: “shoot me”.

“Elmyra, be careful with how you feed your pets, okay? They might not like too much mac and cheese…,” you suggested, cautiously, frowning a little at the big-headed mouse in pity.

You knew, of course, about this kid’s harsh treatment of her pets. Everyone knew. But her parents were rich, and could probably buy out the police station and the A.S.P.C.A. if they’d wanted to, and so no one said anything. Still, as an animal-lover, you were curious. Just how badly did she handle her critters? Maybe you could do something to relieve their pain while you were there? And the situation was bad, certainly, but you’d seen worse, and there was only so much you could say besides, at least while she was awake. Too much rebellion and you’d probably be fired. That being said, you fully intended to assist in giving the poor things a little reprieve once Elmyra went to bed in an hour, and so you let the macaroni-shoveling slide… for now.

8:00 PM came and went, with little deviation from the norm aside from Elmyra quickly popping into the kitchen again at 7:23 PM, opening the freezer, and succinctly closing it before racing back into her bedroom. You shrugged at the gesture, barely turning around from the tv, figuring she probably just went to grab some ice cream. Thankfully, Elmyra not only went to bed early, but also was a heavy sleeper, so by the time 8:15 rolled around she was already obediently in bed and snoring, needing only a reminder from you ten minutes prior. The lanky mouse opened an eye as you peeked in. He was sleeping in the bed with her.

“Sorry,” you muttered, making to close the door, but the little mouse sat up.

“Wait! D-Do you mind checking on Brain? Elmyra said he went to Antarctica, but… he hasn’t been back in a while. You’ll go look for him, won’t you?” he asked, twisting his tail as he said it.

“Sure. I’ll look for him,” you responded pleasantly, and you meant it. The mouse smiled.

“Oh, thank you!” he whispered, tucking back into bed. “Good night!”

“Night,” you whispered back, closing the door softly behind you.

You frowned. Antarctica? More than likely, cranky mouse was simply hiding somewhere, but internally you promised to keep an eye out and check a few cupboards.

Several drawers, a pantry, numerous cupboards, and a couple of closets later and you still couldn’t find the little mouse. You even checked the higher areas of the house, wondering if “Antarctica” meant somewhere scalable and colder. Your first thought, of course, had been the freezer, but that was preposterous. She wouldn’t be that cruel. Would she…?

Out of pure curiosity, you headed back into the kitchen, grabbing a bowl from a cupboard as you did so. You were hungry anyway and figured that a hearty helping of ice cream before you left in half an hour certainly couldn’t hurt. You had free reign of the fridge, after all.

You set down your little blue bowl on the counter. You grabbed a spoon from a drawer and set it in the bowl. You even snatched a couple of Oreo cookies from an Oreo cookie box nearby and plopped them next to the bowl for good measure. Could never be too careful.

Noticing that Elmyra had left a box of frozen fruit pops on the counter without putting them back, you shook your head, grabbed it, opened the freezer door…… and dropped the box onto the floor with a loud plop. Hastily, you whipped off your red sweater, reached into the freezer, and pulled out a little white ball of frozen fur and whiskers.

“Oh, you poor baby,” you cooed, cradling the small mouse in your sweater as if he were precious cargo. You tittered. “Goodness. You poor thing. She actually put you in here??”

Closing the freezer door, you brought the mouse up close, pressing a finger to where his heart would be. His eyes were shut tight, and he was curled so firmly about himself that it took a little doing to get your finger up to his chest. He didn’t stir as you moved him about. There was a heartbeat… barely, faint as a whisper. It was a miracle he was still alive.

Almost instinctively, you cupped him in your hands, brought him over to the sink, and slowly turned on the faucet, checking that the water was lukewarm before carefully sticking him under the steady stream. You didn’t want it too hot right off the bat. Even a warm temperature might be a shock.

Two minutes later, after you’d let the (hopefully) stimulating mini waterfall wash over him, you turned off the faucet and proceeded to dry him off with a towel -- softly; slowly. He still hadn’t stirred, not even a little, and you gulped. Were you too late..?

8:35 PM. The stillness of the night, save for the now dimmed volume of the television, found you sitting once more on the couch, this time with a fuzzy occupant in hand. Big-headed mousie -- the… Brain… he was called? -- lay cradled in your arms, encompassed about with a very soft, very woolly blanket indeed. It was the fluffiest you could find in the house. Nothing less would suffice, in your mind. You could only imagine how frightening of an ordeal it must have been, shivering, cowering in a freezer for an hour, not knowing if the next breath you took would be your last….

A thumb gently stroked the snow white fur of the sleeping mouse, and you couldn’t help but massage that oversized head of his from time to time, muttering to him in soothing tones as you did so.

“You poor thing…. I’m so sorry I didn’t see you in there earlier,” you apologized, even though he probably wasn’t listening. He still hadn’t opened his eyes, the only indication that he wasn’t dead being the steady beat, beat, beat of his thumping heart every half a second.

“You gonna blink for me, sweet heart?”

And then, as if on cue, the little mouse sloooowly blinked, opened his eyes, and stared at you.

“Hey there, little one,” you whispered, smiling at him. “Atta boy….”

His eyes began to shift around, rapidly, and he frowned, as if trying to take in all at once where he was and what had happened.

“It’s all right. It’s all right,” you reassured him, readjusting your grip a touch as you continued to hold him close to your chest. “I’ve got you. Elmyra’s asleep. She can’t do you any harm. And if she tried I wouldn’t let her.”

He opened his mouth, closed it, opened it once more, and subsequently shut it again, as if at a loss for words. Perhaps he really was speechless, or perhaps he was still a little stiff from having been locked up in the freezer for so long. Whatever the reason, he continued to stare at you, almost unblinkingly. As you went to pet him again, he reeled back, breathing faster than normal.

“Shhh. Shhh. It’s okay,” you said calmingly, pausing a mite before resuming your soft massage of his head. “It’s all right, little one. I’m not gonna hurt you.”

And slowly, hesitantly, he settled.

“‘Antarctica’,” you mused, shaking your head. “I’m surprised you survived that. Poor thing….”

You continued to talk to him; comfort him. After a solid five minutes of being stroked and cooed to, he actually leaned into your hand. You could tell he enjoyed the massage, reluctant as he was to admit it. A heavy sigh escaped your lips. You couldn’t help but feel sorry for the little fellow, even if he had been a bit of a butt to you earlier. How often did this kind of thing happen to him? Weekly? Daily? How often did he bath in this torment? You decided to ask him.

“Does she do this kind of thing to you often?”

He nodded, gaze still trained on you.

“Like… daily?”

He nodded again. You sighed.

“I’m so sorry….”

He actually shrugged.

“It’s… my life,” he coughed out, in a deep, chocolatey voice that was a little raspy. It was almost comical that a voice that low could come from something so diminutive.

“Well, it shouldn’t be your life,” you countered. “You don’t deserve any of this.” He simply blinked at you.

“How long has she had you for?”

He shrugged again.

“Over a year..?” he guessed.

“Over a year…. Sheesh…. How are you still alive?” you asked, actually chuckling a little… and regretting it immediately after. This was no laughing matter.

“I… I don’t know,” the Brain admitted, his body vibrating for a second as it released a shiver. For once, he looked away from you. “I don’t know….”

There was something in the way that he said “I don’t know”, something in the way his voice quivered a touch as it floated off into the air, that made your heart break in two. It was as if he himself couldn’t believe they’d held out as long as they had; that they hadn’t given up all hope by this time. It was a dry admittance, a sad admittance, and he blinked rather rapidly and sniffed after saying it, as if trying to bite back tears.

Any animosity you’d had for such a creature had completely dissipated by this point. His honesty. His helpless quaver…. They’d destroyed it. With all the more tenderness, you rocked him gently to and fro, taking extra care to massage his whole little body, as best he’d let you anyway, trying to iron out every last bit of pain trapped in those delicate bones. He barely even resisted, save for asking once why you even bothered to help him in the first place.

“Because I think you needed it,” was your blunt response.

He’d looked away a little shyly at this, before turning back to look into your eyes.

“Thank you,” he muttered, and it sounded sincere.

You simply nodded, smiling at him, continuing to rub out the pain as best you could.

8:47 PM. You tossed a frown at the clock. Mrs. Duff would be back in about thirteen minutes. The time you had spent with your new charge hadn’t felt like enough. You were fully aware that you couldn’t take him back to your place for extended relief. He’d have to return to Elmyra’s room, or, at the very least, be put back somewhere in the house before the mother arrived. This posed a bit of a problem, however, for by this point he’d fallen back to sleep in your arms. You stopped rocking him back and forth for a moment to simply… look at him.

He was so small. Much smaller than expected for a pet mouse. Perhaps he’d been a field mouse in the past? A body that fragile shouldn’t be thrown around in a house by a volatile little girl. He should be cared for; comforted; loved.

8:48 PM. He was actually snoring, so quietly it was barely audible. Despite yourself, you leaned down… and kissed him on the top of his head. He stirred, but didn’t awaken.

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered again, swallowing thickly.

You looked at the clock. 8:49 PM. You sighed.

You couldn’t do this. You knew you couldn’t do it from the moment you opened the freezer door and saw him lying in there. Two hundred dollars a week wasn’t worth it. You were going to be fired and that was that. Screw the money. The thought of leaving the two mice in such a condition as this was unbearable. You couldn’t rescue all of her animals, of course, and you hated the idea of stealing, but this one had almost died.

8:50 PM. You groaned. This wasn’t going to be easy….

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Sunday morning saw you bright and early, topping off some pancakes in your dorm room with maple syrup, cutting up a few tiny pieces, and setting aside said pieces on a small napkin on a table. Two little white mice immediately stepped up. You smiled at them as you dug into your own, much larger portion of the breakfast, watching the sun rise beyond the balcony.

In the end, you’d chosen the lesser of two evils: voluntary departure. The moment Mrs. Duff had returned home, you’d politely thanked her for the payment, but regretted that you didn’t think you could continue to operate as babysitter. She’d been disappointed, but not surprised. It wasn’t the first time a new hire had quit so suddenly. The turn-over rate with Elmyra was high.

And so you left, leaving the two mice behind at the house, but had returned the next day around 1:00 PM while Elmyra was in school and her parents were preoccupied. She had a tendency to leave her bedroom window open, you see, and it didn’t take much convincing to persuade the mice to consider new living arrangements. The taller one, whose name turned out to be Pinky, was a bit uncertain, and felt bad about ditching without even a note of thanks or apology, but the Brain said it wouldn’t matter, that Elmyra would get over it soon enough and find some other tiny rodents to torture, and so Pinky relented. Not that you could blame him for being hesitant. You also felt bad about literally kidnapping them in this way, but you couldn’t think of any alternative.

Watching Pinky happily lick maple syrup from his lips, however, and observing Brain take notes on a pad while he chewed on pancake satisfactorily, you felt it had been worth it. Pinky still felt a bit guilty about ditching Elmyra so suddenly, but he seemed to adjust to change surprisingly quickly, and sweet breakfast food every morning was a-okay in his book. Brain was still getting used to you, and spoke only when necessary, but he hadn’t forgotten the freezer incident. When he did speak to you it was fairly formal and polite, and he’d even let you scratch behind his ears now and again. Pinky was undoubtedly the friendlier of the two, and you enjoyed spending time with him, talking about movies and playing board games, but there was a special place in your heart reserved for Mr. Grumpy. You figured that would always be there after what had transpired several nights prior. All you could see whenever you opened a freezer door now was an ivory, frost-bitten body trembling in your hands.

Bright sunlight was pouring into the dorm room now, alighting the chairs, the tables, the dishware…. Smiling, you stood up, plate in hand, and stepped out onto the porch, choosing instead to rest in one of the outside seats, the better to enjoy the day’s warmth.

Several minutes later, as you popped a piece of pancake in your mouth, something, or someone, crawled up into the chair beside you. You looked down. It was Brain.

“Hello,” you greeted him pleasantly.

“Hello,” he replied. He licked his lips a little timidly. “Umm….”

“Yes?”

“I…. Well, I… I just wanted to say that… you’ve…. Well, it’s… it’s nicer here than at Elmyra’s….”

“Glad to hear that. I would hope so,” you smirked.

“And… I…. Well, I… um…,” he stammered, scratching at his neck.

You smiled.

“It’s okay,” you said. “You’re welcome.”

He looked up at you, then back at the sunrise. A minute passed. Quietly, inconspicuously, he sidled up close to you, and leaned his entire body against yours, closing his eyes as he did so. Your heart warmed at this show of trust. Oh….

Gently, so as not to startle him, you brought up a hand and began massaging him.

“I love you, little one,” you whispered under your breath.

In response, he pressed closer against you. It wasn’t at all what you expected from him, but you gratefully accepted it all the same.

You both sat like that for a long time, enjoying the touch of the sun’s rays, Pinky finally joining in some moments later as he snuggled up to his friend. Brain actually wrapped an arm around Pinky... and smiled. Pinky hugged him back.

A grin tugged at the corners of your mouth as you watched them, before turning your attention back to the sunrise. Hot pancakes. A beautiful view. Soft mice. And no Elmyra. It was nice.

As you petted the two little fuzzies cuddled up next to you, warm and full and far away from any girls who would put them in freezers, one thing became absolutely decided in your mind: no amount of money could ever substitute for this.

The End

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

Author’s Note:

I promised myself I’d never do a self-insert. Granted, that applied more to drawings, and even then I’ve made a couple of exceptions in the past, but writing out this kind of thing is still a bit embarrassing to me. I feel like it tampers too much with the canon universe, but, then again, so do AUs and even fan fiction in general. Every story is a “what if”.

This one came about, however, because I was inspired by a friend of mine, Shuun. She’d written a very sweet little story called Haven Forbid (which I suggest you check out), that was, in turn, partially inspired by a soft idea I’d had in which a young woman, taking on the job of Elmyra’s babysitter, discovers Brain trapped in the freezer and proceeds to nurse him back to health. The idea in general is one I’ve had for months and months and months. Whenever I daydream about cuddling and comforting Brain, it often comes back to this particular scenario. So, yes, it’s a flat-out self-insert. Ha-ha. I just normally don’t like sharing these things publicly, but Shuun inspired me to be brave. Heh. :)

Although this is written with a y/n perspective, the character of the babysitter is basically me. This is what I would most likely do if in this situation. Pinky, Elmyra, and the Brain is a show that I not only abhor, but that hurts my heart terribly. The pain I feel regarding Brain, watching him get beat up, tossed around, thrown against walls, choked, and all manner of other despicable things, is nigh through the roof. So dearly do I yearn to rescue him from such a predicament that I’ve literally been in tears thinking about what he had to endure in that show, even though it’s technically not canon. He can be a little butt himself sometimes, but he absolutely did not deserve any of what he was put through in that series.

Hand me a little frozen Brain and I’d do exactly what you saw in the story. Let me warm him; hold him; love him; tell him he’s not alone…. He’d probably balk at a majority of it, but, deep down, he wants to be comfortable and secure as much as the next person. I have so much love for this little fellow. A lot of the time he needs a kick in the pants, to be certain, and occasionally he’d rather be left alone than spoken to, but once in a while, even though he’d never admit it, I think he also needs a kiss to the head.

(As a side note, the title of this story was… paaaaartially inspired by the famous “Out of the Frying Pan, Into the Fire” chapter title in The Hobbit.)

#pinky and the brain #fan fiction

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seizethecarpe · 3 years

Text

Hunting Me, Hunting You || Dave and Rio

Timing: Current @3starsquinn @seizethecarpe Summary: Dave and Rio meet in the woods for some fun bonding activities Warnings: Some medical blood

Dave collapsed against a nearby tree, gasping with exhaustion. His legs and arms had a few nasty scratches on them, but considering the other guy… Dave wiped at his mouth, trying to clear some of the thick taste of blood from his lips. Instead, all he managed to do was smear it even further, and there was nothing to be done about the blood that had spilled right down his neck. It was his own goddamn fault, Dave thought, if he’d had his rifle with him, would have been a whole less of a problem. Seeing as this town seemed to draw the worst of all sorts of critters, he shoulda been more prepared. Rubbing at the scratch marks, he stared at the cockatrice he’d just torn the head off of with mild shock. Sure wasn’t what he’d had planned for tonight.

Orion had heard the skirmish, but almost stopped heading towards it when he smelled the blood. He froze, unsure how far away the fight had been, but sure that wherever he was going it could be dangerous. The smell made Rio dizzy, a sickening feeling settling into his stomach. But he had to shake off that fear. Someone could be hurt, or worse. He ducked around trees, smacking his arms off of branches as he tried to weave between the foliage and follow the smell of blood. He finally broke out into a clearing and spotted a man, on the ground against a tree with a familiar creature’s body lying beside it. The cockatrice was a relatively new species that Rio had learned about, but he certainly hadn’t expected to see one lying against the ground beheaded. “Hey uh… are you okay?” Rio approached the man with caution, making sure to hold his hands up so he knew he wasn’t a threat while also trying to maintain a good difference in case the man himself was a danger. Once he got a better look he realized that the blood pooling off of his face and neck had come from his mouth, more specifically the sharp, jagged teeth of a selkie. Woah. “Hey there. Are you okay?” Rio asked again, but this time signed as he spoke, “Do you need me to call someone?” He didn’t know for sure if the man would understand ASL like Skylar did, but he thought it was worth a try.

There was a piece of cockatrice skin stuck in his back teeth. Dave tongued at it until he could get it out, and spat it out right before he caught sight of the man approaching. For dangerous, haunted woods, there sure were a lot of people walking off the beaten path. Didn’t they know there were bears and screaming moose all over the place, according to the news? Dave stood back up rapidly even though the guy had his hands raised, but that didn’t seem to mean all that much in this town. He shut his mouth, hiding the teeth, but hadn’t caught the first thing Orion had said, so he had no idea what exactly was going on. Dave narrowed his eyes as Rio spoke again, this time following it with sign language. “Don’t call anyone,” he signed back without speaking. “How’d you know I was hard of hearing?”

Figures that the man wouldn’t want Orion to call an ambulance or anything. That seemed to be pretty common here in town, Rio himself included. There were plenty of injuries that Rio had sustained that he should have gone to the hospital for, but refused to. The longer Rio looked at the man, the more injuries he could pick out. The man had quite the battle it seemed, and Rio was worried that the man was in worse shape than he was willing to admit to a stranger. “Okay. I won’t call anyone. But can I come closer? To help?” Rio signed again, hands still raised in the air. How did he explain that he had a feeling the man would be hard at hearing and may know sign language? The easiest option would be to feign ignorance and pretend it was just a lucky guess. But something told him that the man was smarter than that. Instead, Rio decided for the truth. Or at least one facet of the truth. Rio pointed at his own mouth and opened wide to show off his teeth, “I know a couple of people. They are uh- they have teeth like yours.” Rio signed, hoping that told the man what he needed to know. “My name is Rio. Can I help you?”

So he had seen Dave’s teeth and really recognised them. Sometimes, people tended to gloss right on over them even if they did see it. Same with his shadow. It just was the kind of thing ignorant eyes tended to skate over. Guess the blood drew a whole lot more attention to it. And the dead cockatrice, couldn’t forget about that. Rio didn’t seem uneasy about that, either. He clearly knew more than the average Joe, so after a long moment, Dave nodded. “Not too bad,” he signed, gesturing at the scratches on his arms and legs. They matched the already intense scarring on his limbs all the same. “Dave,” he replied, first by giving his name sign, then spelling out his english one to boot. “It just jumped outta nowhere, all aggressive like. Not a clue why.”

It was a little scary, seeing how much damage those teeth could do. It wasn’t something that Orion had thought much about before. Ricky could fight if needed, but tended to be pretty easy going. And Skylar was one of the nicest, most docile people that Rio knew. Neither had made him consider just how dangerous a selkie could be. Though Rio hardly had room to judge considering his own genetics. “They look pretty painful though.” Along with the blood and wounds, Rio could pick out a myriad of scars and cuts along the man’s body. He had no idea where they came from, but he knew they seemed remarkably similar to the ones hidden beneath Rio’s hoodie and pants. Thinking about them made Rio scratch at his arms reflexively. “I’m familiar with those things.” Rio signed and pointed at the cockatrice. The smell of blood coming from it was intense, and Rio used the sleeve of his shirt to try to block the scent. It only barely worked since he also had to use that hand to sign. “I mean, I’ve never run into one. But I’ve read about them before.” Rio risked taking a few steps forward. The man could be dangerous. The beheaded creature lying next to him was proof enough. But despite this, Rio believed him that he had done it in self defense. So Rio wasn’t scared, even though he maybe should have been. As long as this man didn’t have a deep hatred for hunters and as long as Rio didn’t out himself, all should be good, right? Rio crept closer again, leaning down on the ground in front of the man and sliding the book bag off of his back. “I probably have some wipes in here that we can use to try to clean some of the blood and dirt off. Are you okay with that?”

“Skin like leather, it ain’t too bad,” Dave signed back with a dismissive wave of his hands. Stung like hell and salt water, but it was the sort of pain he was getting more and more often these days. Every hunt was beginning to end with injuries. More and more, ones he couldn’t so easily shrug off. It wasn’t too bad in the water, where he was faster than most of the things around, and smarter. He wasn’t that much faster than anyone on land, and that was where his joints were beginning to give out. “I’ve seen them once before. A big one, nearly as big as a cow. Had killed half the farmer’s family before they got a hunter out for it. Think I got lucky with that one, barely the size of a fox.” He shifted, rolling up his shorts and then his sleeves as permission for Rio to treat him, although he was still watching the guy closely. He just looked like a normal, lanky kid, but that didn’t mean much at all. Looks could be all sorts of deceiving. He had his own shit for cleaning things up in the car, but he wasn’t about to say no to help, nor a friendly face. “So how come you know about selkies and cockatrices?” He asked curiously.

The story was a scary one, and an eye opener. The book that Orion had read that mentioned the beast hadn’t mentioned them getting that big. It made Rio’s eyes grow wide thinking about. A family taken out by something like that, when they had seemingly not done anything to provoke it. Another case that someone like Adam or Alain would have taken with no reservation. A creature that should have been stopped. There were more and more of those cases popping up in Rio’s life recently. Could Rio have taken the cockatrice’s life by himself, without the likes of Kaden or Alain there to watch over him? “It might sting” Rio signed, not bothering to speak this time. He had never really spent time on the other side of the battle wounds. He was always the one that someone was helping bandage, or trying to clean his own wounds. Being on the outside felt like a sort of out of body experience, like it should have been Rio in the place that Dave was in right now. He started by trying to focus on the bloodiest parts, wiping them clean so he could get a better look at the wound itself. Luckily, like Dave said, they didn’t seem too bad. All the blood must have mostly come from the cockatrice. Orion held his hands up to answer Dave’s question but hesitated for a long moment before actually signing. He hated this part. Trying to explain how he knew what he knew. Having to pick between his lies. Because admitting the truth was so much worse. But now, Rio had a new answer that he hadn’t gotten the chance to use much before. “I’m..” He started but waved his hands away after deciding to restart the sentence, “It’s hard to explain. Have you ever heard of the Scribes?”

Dave nodding, gritting his sharp teeth as Rio moved over. He usually did this shit himself, unless he’d been hunting with someone else and they had to clean up each other. Most people tended to think that his injuries were worse than they were, on account of how goddamn much he bled relative to the average human, how much more blood he had in him. He hissed as Orion wiped away the blood, cleaning him up bit by bit. What was worrying was the way he paused at Dave’s question. Like he was preparing to hide something or lie about something. Not that he didn’t get the need for secrecy, but jesus, he was bleeding and exposed in front of this kid, was it really that bad to ask for equivalent exchange. “Yeah, but they’re basically extinct nowadays. You’re a little young to have been one, considering they all but vanished fifty years ago.” He signed, and narrowed his eyes a little. “Might as well spit it out. Ain’t about to judge you.”

The man, Dave, yelped as Orion wiped at the blood and each time it made Rio practically jump out of his skin. “Sorry- Sorry. I’m not used to doing this. Especially to someone else.” He hoped this was helping more than it was causing pain, but the amount of blood was definitely concerning. “Right. Of course.” Dave was familiar with the scribes, which Rio couldn’t decide if that surprised him or not. It was hard to determine. On one hand, it had been mostly kept secret back in the day from people that were not knowledgeable of the supernatural. On the other hand, Rio wasn’t alive back then. He had no idea what the circumstances were like for those that did know about the supernatural. Had the Scribes had some lowkey way to advertise themselves? Maybe if Rio knew this man better he would ask. For now, Rio needed to decide how much of the truth he wanted to share. Having his throat torn out for being a hunter wasn’t at the top of his to do list today. “My uncle was one. Back in the day. Sort of.” Rio sighed before continuing to sign, “He tried to be at least. He joined more towards the end. He was always obsessed with the idea of bringing them back.” Obviously, that hadn’t worked out. Unless wherever he disappeared to was currently thriving from supernatural knowledge. For all Rio knew, he could have his own Scribrary now. “He showed me some stuff as a kid. So I try to learn what I can. Help out if possible.”

"I can do it myself just fine if you ain't comfortable, kid." Dave replied, although it was concerning the way he said he was more used to doing it for himself than others. Especially for a scribe. Maybe if you grew up in a town like this you just got used to being hurt. But hell, the kid was young, right? Surely he couldn't have that much experience unless he was real unlucky, or he was looking for trouble. Which, considering that he called himself a scribe, might have been the case. "But it hurts because I got attacked by a clawed little fucker, not because of you cleaning it." Dave shifted, the harsh crackled barrel of the tree pressing hard against his back, scratching at his skin. I'm the brown of the foliage he caught sight of something moving, a small millipede creeping over and under the dead leaves. It wasn't easy to see when all the colours looked so similar, but that was why Dave kept his eyes focused on it as Rio cleaned, until the kid raised his hands to speak again. "From what I remember, it was always considered a tight line for Scribes. Folks didn't want to share and the scribes had to be really careful about what they knew and told others too. It came apart for a reason. Why do you want to bring it back?"

“It’s okay. You’ve been through enough. Clearly.” Orion gestured at the various wounds. Even if Rio wasn’t comfortable doing this, he needed to be. This was what it meant to help people, right? He would have to do things that he wasn’t entirely comfortable with. As far as that possibility went, Rio supposed that trying to clean and dress some wounds was along the more tame of those fears. Even if the smell of blood and the look of wounds were sometimes enough to make Rio dizzy and nauseous. “You’re right. From what I’ve read, at least. They seemed a bit narrow minded.” Rio didn’t know how to describe it any kinder than that. As far as he was concerned, the Scribes' refusal to move forward and think more progressively led to their downfall. But without having actually been there, Rio couldn’t say for sure if that was the nail in the coffin for them. “I want things to be different. I want to help people without being as outdated or… neutral. I don’t want to just keep the knowledge I want to actually use it to help.” Rio realized how idealistic it was even as he said it. “I guess it sounds crazy, huh? I’m just some kid. Restarting a fallen organization seems a bit far fetched.” Rio finished wiping the blood from the man and moved onto wounds themselves. He started to bandage what he could, careful to do it without hurting the man if possible. “Now that the blood has been cleaned up a bit, it doesn’t look as bad as I thought it might be. Can you walk, after this? If we can get to my car I can drive you anywhere you need to go.”

"Hmmm," Dave replied shortly. He’d never been the type to sidestep the difficult stuff, and this kid, no matter how well intentioned, wasn’t going to find his endeavour as easy as he probably thought. Never mind the lack of knowledge and wisdom thing, that just had to come with time. So he asked the difficult question, and weighed his expectations entirely against Rio’s answer. Hell, it wasn’t like he didn’t in theory have need for a Scribe. He needed to hunt down a fury, and he still couldn’t really understand what they hell they were. “But how do you choose the right person to help? How would you know who the right person to help is?” He shrugged off Rio’s concerns about his injuries. “Yeah, I can walk. My van is just a quarter of a mile away. It ain’t too bad, I just sat down because my stamina ain’t what it used to be. ‘Specially not on land.” He pressed his hand against the bark and hefted himself up into standing, some more blood spilling out of his scrapes, but he’d scab over soon enough. “C’mon, scribeling.”

It was a decent question. Orion liked to hope that in the moment, he would be able to judge that for himself. That he could determine whether or not someone was the right person or not. But it wasn’t entirely lost on him that he tended to be a bit over trusting when it came to anybody without the surname Quinn. It was a quality that he knew needed fixing, but he still clung desperately onto. At the end of the day, that desire to make friends with and understand new people were all Rio felt like he had to offer. If he lost his ability to trust, what did Rio even have left? Still, he wouldn’t be able to live with the guilt if he found out that he helped someone kill an innocent person. “I don’t know, honestly.” Rio finally answered, the silence that lingered between them as he thought, making him too restless, “I don’t want to give out the wrong information to the wrong person.” By that, Rio knew he meant hunters. He wondered how Dave felt about hunters. Was it a given that all supernatural creatures hated them? Rio would understand why. “Maybe I need to develop some vetting process. Make them answer a bunch of questions before I decide if I should help or not.” It wasn’t exactly altruistic, but Rio had no interest in help any random person that wandered by with a supernatural problem. His end goal was to help educate and find some sort of balance or safe zone. Helping a hunter trying to neutralize a werewolf or fae meant nothing to him. The man forced himself up, the movement causing the bleeding to start again. Or speed up at least, Rio wasn’t convinced it had stopped at all. “Scribeling. I like that.” Rio chuckled at the name. He bet Winston would like it too. “Well I’ll just help you get to your van then. Make sure there’s not another one of those things roaming around. I think you’ve lost enough blood for the night.”

“Alright.” Dave didn’t point out that the kid looked skinny and sorta on the short side, that if something else did jump out then it would be Dave doing the hard work, not the little human scribe who had experience bandaging himself up more than other folks. He took a step carefully, testing how stable he was on his legs before starting to walk in earnest, taking liberal advantage of being able lean on trees as he passed each one. “So, Rio, do you know- Hold up.” Dave said, shutting off his brief attempt at conversing as he gripped the bark of a tree. Ever so faintly, it rumbled, with each step through the ground. If it hadn’t rained so recently, it would have been harder to tell, but damn, he could feel it. “Something’s coming. Get back, kid.”

Orion watched carefully as Dave stumbled through the forest. He didn’t stay upright so much as he teetered between trees. Rio wanted to let the man cross the distance himself considering he seemed to be pretty independent, but he would be lying if he claimed he didn’t follow closely behind, ready at any moment to try to jump forward to catch the man from falling. As it was, Dave seemed to be managing fairly well on his own, all things considered. The man began asking Rio a question, but cut off mid sentence. Rio paused, hovering closely to the man. Did he need a minute to catch his breath? But of course things couldn’t be as simple as that. Somehow, Dave knew that danger was on its way. The sudden panic made Rio’s own senses perk up. “We should run, then.” Rio suggested, studying the man’s condition. “You’re already hurt enough, right?”

“You should run. I ain’t got a clue which way it’s comin’ from, but I think I got a better chance with this thing than a newfound Scribe. I’ll be safer too, if I ain’t looking to keep the both of us alive. Now.” Dave growled. If he took his hand from the tree, he wouldn’t feel the reverberations of it coming anymore, and it still wasn’t close enough for him to hear, although if it was as close as it felt maybe Rio would be able to hear it soon. He wouldn’t need the tree roots deep in the ground resonating with steps in the soil to tell them that now. Bipedal, possibly something like a tail or pray being dragged along behind it. Please, not another fucking cockamabob. “Now!”

“What? No way. You’re joking right??” Orion asked the man incredulously, staring at him as if he had gone completely insane. He had read about Selkies a lot since befriending Skylar and Ricky. He knew that the amount of blood wasn’t necessarily indicative of the seriousness of the wounds. Selkies just had more blood than humans did. But the extent of the injury didn’t matter. What did matter was that this man would be in serious trouble trying to fight something off on his own. “You’re already hurt. You could die!” Rio was glancing around trying to figure out where the creature was coming from, but his stupid senses weren’t helping right now. “You don’t have to worry about keeping me alive. Seriously.” Rio had no weapons on him. He hated carrying them in the first place. Although he was trying to assure the man that he could take care of himself, Rio had no interest in fighting or wounding anything. But right now he wasn’t sure how much of a choice he would have. He glanced around, hoping to find a big enough rock or something that he might be able to use as a weapon, but nothing immediately stuck out. Eventually, he decided he would have to settle for something a bit less conventional. He grabbed at a large branch towards the bottom of the tree and yanked, cracking in easily and ripping it from the tree. He broke off the extra twigs and leaves attached to it and tried to wield the thing like a club, glancing nervously over at Dave and lifting a hand to sign, “You sure we can’t just run?”

“Like hell I don’t,” Dave replied sharply. They were close now. Where the fuck were they? The bushy undergrowth was hiding whatever it was, and he couldn’t feel enough with the damp soil and complete absence of rain. He was trying to keep quiet, just in case they hadn’t been heard up until right then, but there was little hope in that. Less, when Rio snapped the branch, but Dave pulled out his hunting knife, better prepared this time. It would have been a real good fucking idea to have his net and trident, but tough shit. “I’m sure. This ain’t my first rodeo.” There wasn’t much more to say beyond that, and there wasn’t much time to say anything more at all. Dave grabbed Rio and yanked him to his side just as two more cockatrices leapt out from between the trees, as big as the one he’d just killed. Possibly from the samy brood as this one. Considering how beat up he was, and that he had some human kid at his side, Dave didn’t like his odds. Without waiting a second longer, he feinted hard left, looking to their attention.

Orion knew this wasn’t a good idea, he just wasn’t exactly sure why yet. Staying in general was a mistake, but Rio wasn’t sure whether he was going to be more of a burden in this fight. The thought of fighting back against the threat made him think of the troll. His arm began shaking while holding the branch and he felt glued to the spot he was in. But this was different, right? The creatures that were attacking were more like spawns. They knew only instincts. If it came to life or death, Rio knew who he needed to protect. Who to fight for. The cockatrices were fast, Rio’s hunter reflexes kicking in as he leapt away from the spot he had been in. Unfortunately, the reflexes didn’t do much for Rio’s balance. He had jumped away from the creature and right into a tree, crashing against it and stealing the breath from Rio’s lungs. He righted himself as quickly as he could, quickly looking around to find Dave. He definitely knew how to fight. Rio needed to make sure to not get in his way while also making sure to keep him safe. Both seemed easier said than done. “Decapitation,” Rio called out, hating the words as he said it, “that’s the easiest way to kill them!”

Great, he’d just get right on that then. Wasn’t exactly easy to decapitate anything fast with just teeth, as Dave’d learned on the first go around. Even as he feinted, he drew both their attentions, and one pounced before he’d even finished moving. Dave threw himself to the ground as it flew right over him, and scrambled back to his feet. Not nearly damn spry enough for this anymore. Didn’t make a difference that both of them were sized like rottweilers, because now there were two of them. He jumped on the one that had just leapt over him, crushing it to the ground as he tore his teeth through the wing closest to his mouth. The beast squawked, twisting and scraping him up as it wriggled out from under him, aiming a bite right at his throat. He threw leaves and forest debris in its face to avoid the deadly teeth, and got back on his feet just for the other to knock him down. “Get OUT of here!” He bellowed at Rio, although he wouldn’t lie, a hand, or even just a distraction wouldn’t be a bad thing right now.

It came down to a decision, as it usually did. Orion had options. Run away like Dave had told him to multiple times already. Try to distract the creatures and by Dave some time. Or try to attack them himself. None of the three were ideal. All three had risks. There was no clear answer, nothing that guaranteed success or a happy ending. So why did Rio have to make this decision when he was so freaking bad at making them? It was enough to make him feel nauseous, but only because it was obvious that Rio knew what the right choice was. He just didn’t want to do it. Not after how the troll had made him feel. Ignoring the sinking pit in his stomach that threatened to root him to the spot he was standing in, Rio pushed himself to move forward and raced up behind one of the cockatrice. He grabbed the thing by it’s tail while it was focused on going after Dave and yanked with as much strength as he could muster. The creature was pulled backwards, lifted off of the ground as Rio chucked it across the opening, its body slamming against a tree and collapsing against the ground. Not dead by anyways, but stunned enough for the moment to even the playing field. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m here to help.” Rio reassured Dave and stood his ground, just as Adam had been teaching him. The easy part was over. Now he had to figure out if he had what it took to kill the thing.

Dave didn’t question the second weight was lifted from his back and hurled away from him. He pushed himself back onto his feet, wishing they were near a water way. He glanced at Rio just long enough to orientate himself as to where his partner and his foes was. For a scribe, the kid packed a punch, and he stood in a trained stance, preparing himself. But Dave couldn’t shake fear he’d seen in Rio before. Problem with fighting without weapons was that he had to get damn close. Fortunately these things did too. When the first one, called Combsy, Dave decided, on behalf of its bright orange cockerel comb, lunged, this time he jerked right and stomped on its leg until the feather thin bones snapped. One wing down and one leg down, it was a fuck ton less of a threat. Dave hopped back as it lunged for his leg, before it squawked in pain, struggling to keep moving. “Can you deal with this one?” He asked Rio. Combsy wasn’t completely out for the count, but the other was shaking its serpentine neck and coming in for a second taste.

Could Orion deal with that one? It seemed like a simple enough question from Dave, but not one that Rio felt like he could answer convincingly. “Uh- sure” Rio answered, hoping that he was right. It would have been embarrassing if Dave had to save Rio from this thing after assuring him that he could handle it. It would be even more embarrassing if Rio died to the thing. Luckily, or maybe unluckily, the cockatrice had no problem distinguishing which one Rio was and was nice enough to circle around Rio, ready to pounce at any moment. Rio found himself spinning around, trying to follow its movements but doing little more than dizzying himself. This thing was fast. Rio had the reflexes of a hunter but wasn’t exactly reliable enough to have the coordination of one. Once the thing pounced, Rio wasn’t sure that he would be able to dodge it for long. His only chance was to incapacitate the thing before it did too much damage. He shrugged his denim jacket off, wrapping one of the sleeves around his wrist to fasten it and then spreading out his stance to keep himself stable. Then he waited, until the beast’s movements slowed and Rio realized that he was jumping. He shifted as quickly as he could, raising his arms up as a shield and crying out when the beast bit down into his arm. There was a crushing pressure, but Rio didn’t feel into digging into his skin. One stroke of luck, the thing didn’t seem to have sharp enough fangs to get through the hoodie and denim jacket. Rio worked as quickly as he could, looping the rest of the denim jacket around the creature’s head and pulling it tightly. He tied the sleeves together and double knotted them, only letting go once he was sure the creature could no longer open it’s mouth. It lunged away from him, jumping up and down and rearing its head back and forth as it tried to get the jacket off. Rio took the distraction as an opportunity and found the same stick he had grabbed before and used it to smack against the creature, hoping that he could hit it enough to force it into unconsciousness.

Unconvinced but satisfied with Rio’s answer, Dave turned his attention back to the cockatrice he’d been fighting, waiting for it to dart forward so he could lunge too, crushing it under his weight. Dave trapped the cockatrice under his body, one knee over each wing. Its broken hollow bones poked into his calf as it screeched worse than any human he’d ever heard. Damn thing wasn’t right, nor wrong, it didn’t deserve to die at all, let alone in pain. Its death was functional, so Dave twisted its neck fast until the crack of its bones echoed off the trees like a gunshot. That wasn’t enough to kill it, but it stopped squirming and screaming, and it made this last part easier. His teeth tore through scales and ligament and bone, until with a horrifying squelch it separated, spewing blood all over his face. The head dropped to the ground, and the body with it. “How you doing, kid?”

The monster hadn’t stopped moving, but it had definitely slowed. Orion was pretty sure he had managed to damage its wing. It was on the ground now, hopelessly pawing at the jean jacket wrapped around it’s head. The pointed edge of the large stick Rio had broken from the tree stabbed against the ground, and Rio was very aware how easy it would be to impale the creature and end everything. But everytime he went to lift the stick all he could think about was the troll and the way it had cried out when Rio had taken its life. The familiar loud buzzing noise started ringing in Rio’s ear. It was a familiar sound that took over whenever he became too stressed. The sound only cut out when Dave spoke from behind him. Rio jumped at the sudden words and spun around, glancing between the man and the creature with eyes all too close to bursting into tears. “I can’t do it.” Rio said solemnly, “I hurt him and I don’t- I don’t think I can do it.”

“Right, uh, turn away, kid.” Dave reached past Rio and yanked the branch out of the ground, looked down at the pointed end before nodding to himself that he was convinced it was shapr enough. His arm groaned in protest as he hefted the branch up and stepped down hard on the cockatrice’s wing, pinning it in place. It squawked and shrieked as it struggled against him, clawing up his ankle, but it dropped like a marionette with cut strings when Dave drove the branch through its heart. He watched its last, convulsing breaths, and then its shudder, and then it was over. Dave winced as he turned around, taking in the tear tracks on Rio’s face. “You’re alright, scribeling. It’s over now. I would have been mince meat out here if you hadn’t stepped in. Are you hurt?”

What an embarrassment. Orion was supposed to be the one saving Dave, not the other way around. He had come across an injured man in the woods and yet still somehow ended up being the one in peril. “I’m sorry.” Rio crossed his arms in defeat and stared at the ground as Dave grabbed the stick and moved towards the creature. When the creature started screaming, Rio tried to cover his ears. It didn’t stop him hearing, but it blocked out some of the noise. Dave was trying to comfort Rio, make him feel better. They were kind words, but not ones that Rio could accept at the moment. He wiped at his face with the sleeve of his hoodie and straightened back up. “I’m fine. Just a few scratches. I’m really sorry though. I wanted to get you out of here without any more damage. Guess I kinda failed on that mark.”

“Why’re you apologising?” Dave asked, rubbing his eyes. The cuts along his body stung in the cold air, but these sortsa things happened. He looked at the two dead cockatrices, wondering if they all had hatched from the same nest. Wondered if there was more of them coming. He put his hand against another tree, and didn’t feel anything else nearby, but without fog nor rain, it wasn’t that easy. “Hey, hey, c’mon now. You’re shaken up, I get it, but you didn’t control them things. You can’t blame yourself for us getting jumped. We’re alive, that isn’t failing. It’s the opposite.” He pat Orion gruffly on his back, and began walking haltingly them back out of the woods, holding his side where he’d been scratched up. “You’re alright, kid.” Strong as hell too, but Dave didn’t comment on that just yet.

“Sorry. It’s- I don’t know.” Orion rarely had a good reason to apologize. He seemed to be apologetic towards everything. Like being in his presence was inherently a burden. He knew that wasn’t true anymore. He had been around enough kindness and love now to know that he wasn’t uselessly taking up space. Still, the habit was hard to break. “I was supposed to help you. I ended up needing your help.” Rio tried to rationalize his mood, explain the thought process to Dave. Now didn’t seem like a great time. When Dave patted Rio on the back, a small grin began growing across the boy’s face. “Yeah. Sorry. You’re right.” Rio made a quick attempt to pull himself together, slowly walking over to the dead creature and unwrapping his denim jacket from its knotted position around the creature’s head. Probably a goner, but he didn’t want to just leave it tied around the poor creature. “Thank you. For helping. You’re pretty cool too.” Never one to know how to express his emotions normally, Rio opted for a thumbs up to distract from his blushing. “Are you good to walk. You can lean against me while we get you back out of the woods.”

“Ain’t nothing wrong in needing help. I just did.” Dave replied wrily, shaking his head. “Cool, huh?” Dave scoffed with a chuckle, even more tickled by the thumbs up. He took hold of Rio’s arm. “Let’s call this just in case,” he said with a wry smile, slowly walking them out of the woods. He wanted to know more about this strangely strong and strangely innocent Scribling, but covered in blood and in need of sleep was not the best time to ask. “We’re near my van. You good to get yourself home or do you need a ride?”

The walk to his van wasn’t far from where they had been. If things had only been slightly different, perhaps Dave and Orion could have made it without ever having run into those two extra creatures. But as it was, Rio couldn’t change the outcome for this anymore than he could for the troll that had been killed. Was he just supposed to accept this as the circle of life? It was supposed to be natural, but Rio still couldn’t think about it without a pit forming in his stomach. The extra pressure of Dave leaning against him didn’t had too much strain as they finished their journey out of the woods. Rio tried to be extra careful of twigs or roots to make sure he didn’t send them both stumbling, but he had no trouble supporting the man. The selkie was clearly trained to fight, and Rio had no doubt that he was smart enough to know what a hunter was. Rio had played those cards. Yet Dave hadn’t called him on it yet. “No, I’m not too far from here. I’ll be fine.” Rio signed, pulling his bag off of his back and digging through it. He eventually pulled out a notepad and scribbled his contact information on it before ripping the page free and holding it out to Dave. “Just in case you need anything, let me know okay? It was nice to meet you. Despite all the violence.”

#para #chatzy #rio #medical blood tw #s OFT

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