#drew this ~4 days ago and then fell over and lost the ability to draw but it was a good way to fall into the pit

[chiropteracupola]

luna mothandcompass being the Magical Girlboss she is in starwatcher ?

keeper of the light

[k7l4d4]

Two New AUs (Loud House & Amphibia)

Today I am rolling out two new AUs for all you folks looking for something to help fill the hole in your lives that only inspiration can! ...That was too over the top and I apologize for it. First off, my Loud House AU, Ring Me Up!

Did somebody call for a hero!? I had an idea for DC Crossover with The Loud House, and I was hoping to share it with everyone. Has anyone heard of the H-Dial? Not to worry for those who haven't, as I will explain! The H-Dial, also called the Hero Dial, is a device that allows someone to tap into a location known as the Hero-Verse, a dimension where every possible superhero that ever was, is, or will be, no matter how improbable, is connected. By dialing HERO, the wielder of the H-Dial can turn into any hero throughout the Multi-Verse! But it's totally random, so you can get either something totally amazing, or incredibly bizarre, and the second is far more likely unfortunately. Enter Lincoln Loud, a seemingly ordinary boy with a less than ordinary family who find the H-Dial. The version he finds is a bit different, as it is an experimental proof-of-concept with an unusual nature; rather than turn the wielder into a hero, it turns someone close to the wielder into one instead! To use it, Lincoln enters HERO into the Dial, and then presses a number. 1: The Determined, heroes with nothing special to them, with either very weak powers or none at all, they became heroes due to the hard work they put in and nothing less. The avatar of this number is Lori. 2: The Gentle, heroes whose greatest strength isn't their powers, but rather their compassion and connection with others, they will reach out to save anyone, even a villain. The avatar of this number is Leni. 3: The Gifted, heroes who were lost in life, without purpose or direction, until something or someone not only inspired them to be more, but gave them the ability to do it. The avatar of this number is Luna. 4: The Manic, heroes who don't always fit in to society, filled with boundless energy, and a though process that is absolutely unique. The avatar of this number is Luan. 5: The Mighty, heroes of strength and prowess, the ferocity within them can never be restrained, whether for good or ill, they invariably have powers that either let them hit, or be hit, harder and longer. The avatar of this number is Lynn. 6: The Tired, heroes who are not accepted by society, defined by the suffering they have endured, they constantly walk the border between the light and the dark. The avatar of this number is Lucy. 7: The Wild, heroes of nature, they aren't afraid to get rough and tumble, and thrive off of what most civilized folks struggle with. The avatar of this number is Lana. 8: The Elegent, heroes who have it all, grace, beauty, power, they constantly battle the temptation to do bad with all that they have, as beneath their beauty lies something twisted. The avatar of this number is Lola. 9: The Brilliant, heroes defined by their minds, who dedicated themselves to using their gifts not just to benefit mankind in the long-term, but the here-and-now as well. The avatar of this number is Lisa. 0: The Future, heroes who embody all the hopes and dreams of a brighter tomorrow, who have walked to the abyss and seen not horror, but unrealized potential and beauty. The avatar of this number is Lily. What do you all think? The above AU requires no hard knowledge of DC Comics, as the only element from DC is the H-Dial, one of the most obscure relics of power in all of DCU Publishing History!

The next AU is for Amphibia, and is what I like to call, Alone Together. Note: This is meant to be a Superhero Reconstruction AU, in which the idea is to breakdown the premise and uplifting notions of comic books heroes, and then build them back up. Here we GO!!! Also, the name of the AU is Gifted Calamities.

Long ago, the Outer Rulers were, well, bored. They had existed for so long, experienced so much, that they struggled to find anything to break the monotony of their immortal existence; it would not be wrong to say that they had been driven mad from boredom!! Yet, soon, they came across a world, just starting to fill with life, and thought of an idea. They had experienced so much, why not make something instead? Falling to the world, which had only just started developing its civilizations, they came upon its people, the humans. With mischief and intrigue within whatever counted for them as hearts, they blessed upon the simple race three gifts: Wisdom, Strength, and Heart. With the seeds of their entertainment planted, the Outer Rulers vanished, eager to see what fruits would bloom under the labor of their unknowing pawns.

As humanity found the Three Gifts, they were enthralled; with Wisdom, no knowledge was beyond their understanding, with Strength, no feat was too daring to accomplish, and with Heart, no soul was beyond salvation. But as with all power, there came those who coveted it for themselves and themselves alone; the Order of the Hungry Beast. This ancient brotherhood found the power as enthralling as their brethren, yet where the others saw beauty, they saw only their most depraved wants and whims come to life. With Wisdom, no scheme could fail, with Strength, no nation could not be conquered, and with Heart, no soul could not fall under their sway. As the Order grew in influence, they encroached upon the Gifts, drawing them deeper and deeper into their clutches. Yet, one day, a young nomad, gifted in the ways of Heart, came upon them in the dead of night, as they schemed to kill the village that held the Gifts and seize them for themselves. Horrified, the nomad, roared in alarm, her furious shriek rousing the village to action. Coming in droves, the humble village, tasked for all these years with guarding the Three Gifts, stormed outward, horrified to see that the members of the Order, those they called brother, sister, mother, father, son, and daughter, were plotting against them.

A great clash rocked the land as the Order of the Beast and the Villagers, headed by the young Nomad, battled to decide once and for all how the power of the Gifts would be used; would they be gifts of wonder, bringing humanity closer together, or gifts of strife, driving humanity against one another in eternal darkness? As more and more members of each side fell, the Nomad looked on in sorrow; for every one of the Order who were taken, three or more of the villagers were lost. It was a battle of attrition, one that they were losing! What could be done? Yet, over the din and cacophony of battle, the Nomad could here two fierce cheers; the young inventress, barred from the conflict due to a broken leg, and the chief guard’s apprentice, who volunteered to protect the children, both yelling to the heavens: “Don’t give up. You haven’t lost. You can still win. We believe you will win, so win!” As the Nomad, heard them cheer, her heart filling with joy and resolve, something... sparked. 

Just as the feeling came, it quelled at the sight of two soldiers from the Order rushed the cheering onlookers, hell-bent on silencing their voices that bolstered the hearts and resolve of the Villagers. As her heart filled with dread at the no doubt bloody sight to come, the Nomad reached out, screams of warning resting on her lips, only to fall silent as the two cheering onlookers sprung into action; the injured inventor pulled a peculiar apparatus, and launched a bolt of sharpened wood into the soldier nearest to her, and apprentice guard sprung into action, crashing down onto the hapless enemy with a fierce grin. Both turned to the Nomad, seemingly seeing her across the carnage and chaos of the battle field, and nodded. As the spark once more burned into her heart, the Nomad turned to the oncoming hoard of Soldiers and said this: “You may rage and struggle, lash out and torment with your cruelty and selfishness all you like. But you will never win. Not because we are stronger than you, that we are more than you, but because, unlike you, we have not forgotten the first Gift humanity ever had. The Gift of HOPE!” With a roar, hearts filled with the Hope burning through the Nomad’s cry, the Villagers, resolve honed into an unstoppable force, leapt into the final clash.

It was over. The Villagers had one. With the final rally of the Nomad, they pulled together the strength to break and scatter the cowardly Order. Yet, in the end, the victory was bitter-sweet. The Nomad, a kind stranger who none knew the name of, had fallen in battle, the corpse of the Order’s leader cooling beneath her. The apprentice guard, so full of life and fire that drew all into her orbit, died standing, guarding the door to the children held within, the corpses of all who tried to cross the threshold piled around her, unwavering in her duty even in her death. The inventor, heedless of her injuries, had lured a platoon that had broken into the Hold into her workshop, and collapsed it all around them, a defiant smile beaming across her face. As the Villagers took stock of the ones who had given so much for them, a noble stranger who could’ve left them to their fate, an absent-minded inventor who constantly worried the village with her studies sacrificed her prized inventions, that which she held more sacred than even her own life, to fell the enemy, and the young guard who went above and beyond her duty for those she loved, they knew what must be done. Taking the Three Gifts and the bodies of their three heroes, the Villagers committed all to fire, both to honor those who gave them their future, and to keep the Gifts from EVER falling into the hands of the Order and their selfish crusade. The Gifts were destroyed, the heroes bodies lost. All they had to do was pick up the pieces.

Thousands of years have passed, and a new era has dawned. The Gifts have returned, as has the order. The only question is: what happens now?

[rigelmejo]

Observations when I study multiple languages at the same time:

Hello so good morning all. 早上好大家，我就着急啊哈哈....

I awoke today and my brain SPUN because I can read some Chinese, but I forgot how to say I woke up and got out of bed in chinese. I also just?? I suppose my brain worried and was like? “Do you even remember how to read french? do you even know any Chinese? Or is the new Japanese just overwriting old stuff?!”

I rationally know japanese probably won’t overwrite the rest because like - the first 5 months I studied chinese it just blocked out my French active recall unless I purposely used French a bit. But I didn’t lose any French as far as reading ability, and I got my French active recall back once I used French for a few hours/days. So it would be quite normal if my Japanese is recalled easier than my chinese for a few months. But my brain is like “we worked So hard to get to read what we Can read and say what we Can say we will be SAD if we lose it!!”

反正早上好我床上来了。我已经醒了。我不忘记很多的词。我着急为了没有的意思。我就找到一个翻译词典为了检查对的词。我猜不错。幸好！还我就可以阅读在法语，很好啊。今天我早阅读法语书一下，很容易。我没事。

My chinese may be a mess grammatically I know.

Anyway. I am. Thrilled I didn’t forget that many actual words. Universe help me if Japanese grammar starts fucking up my Chinese grammar tho. I mean I hope not because French never got fucked up; but to be fair to French I DID forget a ton of the conjugations when actually speaking/listening ToT I can barely recall French conjugations anymore unless I actively look at some textbooks or Le Français Par Le Method Nature to refresh myself. Likewise, I studied Japanese probably over 1.5 years ago now and since then, I’ve forgotten nearly all the verb conjugation endings I used to know with the exception of: ます、ません、じゃない、です／だ、じゃありません、ありまう、います、i know te form exists still though I completely forget what it’s for? Giving orders/suggestions? I forgot how adjectives conjugate but I remember they do? And I certainly forgot how words change when connected to their verb endings - I think there’s i and ru verbs? And they conjugate slightly different? And maybe nakatta is past tense negative, and katta is past tense positive (though I can’t remember if it’s katta or something else tta)?

Basically I forgot a HUGE portion of Japanese grammar. I also forgot Word order, I nearly forgot particles (I still have vague recognition of は、が、を、に、の、か). And I remember でも means but because it’s one of the few words I hear constantly and still catch. Also daijoubu (I may be spelling it wrong) for ok (I remember hearing it in YouTube and shows way more than any learning material I had, and I remember I’ve heard a similar word in thai dramas). 大丈夫／だいじょうぶ - using imiwa dictionary app I’m fairly sure that’s the word I’m remembering. Anyway I forgot... so much of my Japanese it’s like I just am relearning from almost scratch but with a vague impression it’s all familiar. I relearned these words/phrases lately which all sound extremely familiar now that I’ve heard them again: そうです、ここ、そこ、あそこ、駅／えき、子園／こえん, お電気／おでんき、今／いま、今日/きょう、あおい／青い、人/じん、話します／はなします、分かります/わかります、どこ、じゃまた.

Among the good things, I do remember most kana upon seeing them again, I think it’s just a few katakana i don’t remember unless I’m reading katakana then I recognize the word and remember the sound - like my name ミジョ/みじょ MeJo “mi-jo.” I always forget specifically ミ、シ、lol. I also forgot the way to extend vowels in katakana versus hiragana until I saw it again. And I still don’t quite remember why cake isカアク, but something else might be ice cream with a - like アーカイブ?

Anyway. Like I mentioned, this morning I read some French to assuage my fear and remind myself i can Actually still read French. I have not actually forgotten, even though my active recall is shot to hell unless I practice. And I did read, and aside from a few words I distinctly remember always confusing me and never looking up, I read fine. I’m fairly sure I read that novel easier than I’d ever read it before, even, catching more details this time than any time previously. So clearly my French reading skills are still fine, have been maintained, and if anything then over the years they’ve still marginally improved a bit.

I suppose my biggest concern with chinese is just... that I want to absolutely ensure my reading skill hits that vague “specific tipping point” that my French reading skill did. The point at which, once reached, your reading skill does not slip below “capable of grasping the overall gist of main ideas” and if you read every few days or weeks then also may continue improve over time. I remember in French, BEFORE I hit that “specific tipping point,” if I stopped reading for a while, then when I came back to reading things were harder to comprehend again and it took a bit of extra work to re-establish the foundations. But after a certain tipping point was reached, even if I didn’t read French for a few weeks or months, when I came back I had a basis of understanding that never fell below “at least able to follow gist of main idea” and often picked up any forgotten words within a few hours, then picked up new words to learn. And so I could continue “picking up where I left off” with learning instead of fighting with my reading skills sliding backwards. They no longer slid backwards, they only got “rusty” and then once polished up in a few hours, would resume improving. It’s the stage I want my chinese reading to reach, because once it reaches that point I will no longer worry I’ll forget the foundational skills - it’s decently doable to re-familiarize yourself with specialized words as needed (we even do it in English if say we read a psychology book for a class 4 years ago then pickup a new psychology class, etc). But it’s difficult to build the original foundation skills everything leans on. In Japanese, I never finished building it - I think I was finally starting to at 2.5 years in, then I gave up. As a result, I lost a significant portion of that foundation I had not finished building. At first I retained some of it, but from years of no review AND no continuing to finish building it, that foundation crumbled. So now I remember pieces of Japanese, but not enough to rely on. Whereas my French had enough time devoted to finishing the foundation, that now even if I take a few months or a year away from it, if I go back to speaking/reading/listening to French then the foundation is remembered quickly and I can start learning mostly where I left off and just jump to improving again (instead of needing months to relearn). While I can relearn/strengthen the basic things in French, I can also jump into books or listening or convos and know enough to just learn from doing, and still remember enough that I’m Capable of interacting with those things and comprehending enough To do them.

I think of it like drawing - idk when it happens with a skill like drawing, I drew since I was able to hold things so I don’t know. But basically whether you draw everyday, or stop for a few months or a year then return to drawing, within a few hours of drawing again all your previous skill comes back to you. If you forgot something you’d learned, usually a few minutes or hours re-learning is enough to drag your skills up to where they were before. So you can quickly return to your former skill level last time you drew, and quickly start improving further. So each time you draw, you’ve retained your skill from before (mostly) and improve your skill, then that skill improvement carries over to the next time you draw. It’s great. In some ways, my French skill is like that - I quickly can get to the comprehension level I was at last time I engaged with French, can improve from there, and then the next time I engage with French I can pick up from the level to which I’d improved to. I may forget some specifics I didn’t use much or learn as well - specialized words, or ways to express myself I rarely use (so rarely reinforce), but if I re-study them it takes a few hours to get those back (instead of the months it took to learn the first time). I am so grateful my French is past that “specific tipping point” because it makes French way easier to retain a useful level in, and easier to pick it back up when i have time and improve it as needed in the areas needed and retain the improvements I make for the most part. In Japanese, I never reached that “specific tipping point” of having established enough of a foundation. So I lost a lot of what I knew.

With Chinese, I really want to ensure I’ve reached past that “specific tipping point” of enough of a foundation, before I give it less dedicated time. I don’t want to lose the chinese I’ve learned, since it’s a significant amount. And... even more than that, my chinese speaking and listening ability is in many ways BETTER than my French, because I worked on it, and I don’t want to lose those abilities either to the degree I’ve developed them. In French, i know I have very low levels of speaking/listening in comparison to my reading and they lag behind as a result - even once they reached the “specific tipping point” a year later than reading in French, they still lag a ton behind my reading (think A1-2 French speaking/listening skills, versus French B1-B2 reading skills). Meanwhile, I’ve been trying to make it so my listening/speaking skills only lag behind my chinese reading skills a little bit. And I’d like all of those skills to reach the “specific tipping point” where I am able to retain the majority of those skill levels, before I work on chinese less frequently.

I know myself. With Japanese, at 2.5 years in I was Just starting to hit the beginning of making that foundation I could retain later - I was just starting to read and comprehend the gist of the main plots in manga, to watch YouTube or play games and grasp the bare gist of what the main ideas was. In French, those skills started at about 5 months in, and I don’t think they hit “specific tipping point” of me being able to rely on keeping those skills perpetually, until 1.5 years in. With Japanese, as I said, i hit the beginning of building them around 2.5 years in, and just never solidified them enough to hit the “specific tipping point” unfortunately. With Chinese, at least in reading (since I’m only discussing reading skill in all 3 languages), I probably hit the beginning of building these skills at month 10-11. That was when I could start reading manhua without a dictionary, novels without a dictionary (and grasp the main ideas gist at minimum), and watch shows and do the same. Which again, is higher than Japanese even was at its beginning-foundation, as I couldn’t even Read novels or listen to Japanese audio on its own and follow the main idea. So I suppose, to compare the absolute beginnings of each foundation being built: in French it was month 3 (when I could start brute forcing through news/Wikipedia and comprehend some gist of main ideas), Japanese year 2.3ish (when I started brute forcing through manga and comprehending very roughly some main ideas), month 6-8 in chinese (when I started brute forcing shows and novels and comprehended honestly more than I can believe I managed to in retrospect, considering how much easier those still-challenging tasks feel now). Anyway... Chinese has seemed to take 2x as much time to improve compared to my French. I do suspect chinese normally takes native English speakers roughly the FSI recommended 4x as much time. I suspect my French learning plan was just not very optimal for my learning style, so it wasn’t as efficient. Likewise... I suspect Japanese should normally take roughly 4x to 5x longer to improve then French. I suspect mine took SO long last time particularly, because I did not even have a good study plan for myself until year 2 of Japanese study.

So... based on all that. I imagine my chinese will be very firmly where i want it’s minimum skill to reliably maintain the foundation of what I know, to be at.. year 2-3. Year 2, if I keep improving as well as I’ve been doing (and assuming if my French had been more consistent it would’ve been at the “specific tipping point” by year 1). And year 3 if I don’t always study as much, or it simply takes longer (so twice the 1.5 years French took). Which honestly... 3 years is still intensely fast as I see it. And, if I’m improving the way I think I have been, I can’t even imagine how ill be in year 3. Anyway... based on all of that... I think it would be a bad idea to pick up Japanese heavily until my chinese is past at least year 2. With my 1 year+ of French, at that point I was also studying Japanese, and they seemed to work fine as I studied both - the only thing was it slowed down my French progress. So I do think waiting to do anything heavy with japanese, until my chinese is a good play I’m ok to let it simply maintain for the most part, is probably a safer plan.

—-

Realistically... no reason I can’t lightly re-study Japanese though and Just like rebuild the beginnings of the foundation I had though, it was probably N4 starting into N3 when I gave up. So I could probably re-learn some old stuff without taking too much time from chinese. And then if my chinese is year 2 by then, that sure would be convenient. Lol this is all... me contemplating. When we all know the truth is, I’m going to do whatever I want to do in the moment, and see what happens o3o

I am gonna tentatively say though, I think as long as I don’t abandon Chinese for any length of time until at least 2-3 years in, it should probably be maintained at least though at where it’s at/gradually improve. I didn’t lose any French during the times I kept using it, even when studying Japanese and russian, the “specific tipping point” didn’t really matter until I stopped using French for months at a time. I am sure I will notice if another language study is slowing down my chinese study though, in which case I’ll pause the other language if I have a Chinese goal that needs more time for attention.

At the moment, my Chinese goals are going about as expected. I wish I could carve some more time for them, but I’m giving them as much time as they were getting throughout the fall - so it’s not like they’re getting any less time than usual. (I am just inpatient, and wish I was the kind of person with the time and focus to give them 4-6 hours a day lol).

[katherinemallory]

#6 A sign from the stars

You can find the previous chapters here: #1 #2 #3 #4 #5

In the last few days it seemed I hardly recognized myself. One Friday I stayed at the MI6 Headquarters much longer than usual, because I needed to finish all the work before the weekend. I wanted to prevent anyone from bothering me on one of my free days, so I did everything I could to make sure I didn't forget about anything. It was getting dark outside the windows, as 8 P.M. got closer, so I drew the curtains before I sat in my armchair.

I was trying to relax and regain the energy. I've just finished preparing some of the documents I had to deliver directly to M, but didn’t intend to go there just yet. I needed a short break. I waited there for 15 minutes, doing absolutely nothing, apart from listening to the cars that were passing by the MI6 Headquarters outside the window. Then I locked my office and went to the last floor.

I was wondering whether Eve would still be working that late in the evening. My assumption was that she would stay in the building as long as Mallory was there. But with Mallory... you could never know for sure. No one was fully aware of his schedule... perhaps for safety reasons.

The corridors on the last floor were empty and it felt like the whole building has been abandoned. You could hear quiet phone conversations from behind the doors, but that late in the evening it felt a bit as if the ghosts had invaded the place.

I knocked on Eve’s door twice, but didn't hear that welcoming voice in response. I was extremely tired, barely could see anything with my eyes, and I wanted to go home so badly, that I ignored the basic savoir-vivre rules and went inside even though I had not been invited.

There was no one sitting behind Eve's desk. The lights were off, and with all the important stuff left on the desk I felt like a burglar.

Great, I thought. There is no one around to assist me. I can't leave these documents here, not making sure they would go directly to Mallory... but I can't step into his office either if he's not here!

To me it seemed like he wasn't there. The omnipresent silence suggested that the office was empty, but I didn’t have much choice. Damn it, I'm going to check if the door is open...

I placed my hand on the doorknob and pushed the famous maroon door. To my surprise, the door has opened, but no one greeted me, which meant I've just broken into M's office.

The interior looked quite mysterious. Just as in the previous room, the lights were off, but the office wasn't covered in total darkness, as someone didn't draw the curtains next to the M's desk. The city lanterns’ light was trying to reach the book shelves behind the desk. For a moment I wondered what kind of books does my supervisor enjoy the most.

I went straight to his desk, my moves being extremely clumsy. The only thing I had in my mind was to do it as quickly as possible and leave. 

When I stopped in front of the desk and placed the documents on it, I felt my heart *racing* in my chest. I tried to remain calm. Calm down, Kath. You *had* to deliver this directly to Mallory... and you just did it. Calm down. There's nothing wrong with you being alone in your supervisor's office. I had trouble with convincing myself of that. That is probably why I didn't hear someone coming inside.

I didn't hear the footsteps. I realized that someone has joined me only seconds before being hugged from behind. I felt the warmth of a man’s body.

"Someone has broken into her supervisor's office?" whispered a pair of lips that gently kissed me on the neck, refusing to wait for my response.

A familiar voice had come from the lips that kissed me. I knew exactly who that man was.

"I came to bring you... the documents... you had asked for... earlier today... sir," I said, staying still: having M's desk in front of me, and unable to see the face of the man who was still holding me in his arms.

"Thank you, Katherine," he replied, while he moved his hands to my waist. "But it would be a waste of time... to come here only to bring me documents."

He kissed my neck once again, this time more predatory, and turned me around.

At first, I only saw his silhouette in the office's darkness, but soon recognized Mallory's face thanks to the dim light coming from outside the window. I was both astonished and thrilled, and, as a result, unable to move. He held me tight in his arms, looking deeply into my eyes.

"I *couldn't* wait any longer," confessed Mallory and smelled my hair. "Since your first day in the section I've been thinking about you..." he made a pause and hungrily glanced at my lips. “So I stepped in when I saw you here. I just hope..." he whispered, "... I just hope you're okay with that."

I couldn't believe my own ears, but I knew exactly *what* I wanted to do and *how much* I wanted to do it. I seductively bit my lower lip and then slowly raised my right hand and caressed his cheek, admiring his face for a brief moment.

"The feeling's mutual, sir," I said breathlessly and kissed him.

My hands laid on his chest, impatiently exploring his body in the dark. He continued to kiss me passionately as he lifted me onto his desk, while I started to unbutton his shirt. We got lost in the moment completely: he, caressing my hair and my back, and me, sitting on his desk, with my hands taking off Mallory's braces...

*BEEP* *BEEP* *BEEP* *BEEP*

I opened my eyes, as the alarm clock rang. I looked around, expecting Mallory to be lying in my bed next to me, but I was the only person in the room. So, that was only a dream... such a shame, I thought, as I touched my neck as if I were a man who intended to kiss me. 

I wasn't in the good mood. Who would like to come back to reality after such a night? But I got out of bed to turn the clock off and to check my phone. Still no response from 007... You have really screwed this up, Kath.

I wasn't sure how many days or weeks have passed since my failed mission and the infamous conversation I had with Bond. I stopped to count them.

The life in the double-0 section has slowed down, but there was one thing to look forward to. All of us had to attend a one-on-one meeting with M who has been trying to figure out if there's a leak in the section.

I looked at my wall calendar only to discover that today was the day of mine "interrogation" with Mallory. Maybe that's why I had such a spicy dream tonight... cause my heart gets crazy before our every meeting... And let’s be honest Kath, your subconscious wants him *really* badly. 

The truth was that I missed Mallory dearly, as I haven't ran into him in the recent days. It was an uncomfortable feeling - to miss someone you don’t know much about, but at the same time be aware of the fact that this *someone* makes you unable to sleep at night. I found myself regularly thinking about his mysterious green eyes and dark brown hair. I *loved* looking at him when he was giving orders to other double-0s, talking to Eve, or even just wandering around the corridors. The way he moved like seemed fairly attractive to me... Was I being ridiculous? Was I really in love with him? I wasn’t sure, but I was *craving* for my next meeting with Mallory.

I was nearly ready, drinking my everyday cup of Earl Grey and eating breakfast, when my phone rang unexpectedly. I had to stand up to pick it up.

It was Eve. Did the hour of my "interrogation" change?

"Hello, Eve, what's up?"

She sounded a bit strange, as if she was afraid to tell me why she has called me.

"Hi, Kath," she said in a faint voice. "Have you... left your apartment already?"

"No," I replied. "But I will do it in 15 minutes time."

"Well... in that case... don't leave your place then."

The way Eve said the last few words made me feel really worried.

"Why so? Eve, what is going on??" I said nervously, but determined to uncover the truth. "You sound differently than usual... did something happen??"

"Y-y-yes," faltered Eve. "Do you remember our last conversation about M when you said..."

"Yes, I remember," I interrupted her. "Though I’m not sure what that has to do with this..."

"Well Kath... I'm really sorry to tell you this, but... 003 who had his meeting before you... he tried to assassinate M."

"WHAT?!" I exclaimed and fell on the couch. I began to tremble. "He tried to do WHAT...? Is M alright???"

"He was taken to the hospital a while ago," responded Eve. "A stab wound to the left arm. 003 attacked M with a letter opener from his own desk..." she made a pause and then sighed. "It was really awful, Kath. I was behind the door and could do absolutely nothing! I didn't even know something was going on there! M must have pressed this button under his desk to signalize emergency... the guards came into the office very quickly and took 003 to the isolation room but... M's arm has been already covered in blood. When I saw him I nearly fainted... and then I thought of you... since you feel something for him..."

"How serious is his injury?" I asked immediately, being surprised by my ability to remain rational.

"I have no idea, Kath. But I'll keep you posted."

"Thank you so much Eve... I really appreciate that you've called me..."

I suddenly realized that something was not right. Again, I was surprised by the fact I was able to think straight in such an emotional situation.

"... but Eve, why you've told me to stay home? I can come to work and continue with the documents..."

"No, Kath, I'm sorry, but you can't," she said. "003's last mission was set in that area in Australia where Abbruscato wanted to buy mines... and since you and Amanda were both so close to him... you're first ones on the list of suspects. I'm sorry, but..."

She didn't have to explain this to me. This is how the world of espionage looks like.

"... but we're under arrest," I said calmly as I opened the curtains, and looked through the window to see the street. "The guards are coming right now, aren't they?"

"Yes, they left a while ago. They will stay at your door until the investigation's over."

I became quiet. 

"Katherine, are you still there?"

"Yeah...” I answered, staring at the street and tucking the hair behind my left ear. “Thank you, Eve. Thank you so much," I said briefly and I hanged up.

After a while, I was sitting on my couch, looking on my cup of cold Earl Grey. 

I didn't want to talk anymore. To anyone.

Just as in my dream, I couldn’t move. It seemed like I lost the ability to feel anything because of the unexpectedness of the news. If someone came to me and wanted to hurt me in any way, I wouldn’t care at all. I just wanted to know how’s Mallory.

So this was the real meaning of my dream... It was a warning. A prediction. A telepathic sign from Mallory? A sign from the stars telling me something terrible has happened to the man I love?

Wait, did I just think that? Did I just call Mallory the man I *love*?

***

To be continued.

[ayma-nidiot]

In the White Light - Prideshipping fic chapter 4

Chapter 4 – My Blackened Heart, Scorched by Flames

“Kaiba…”

“Huh?” Kaiba had remembered being in his duel with a weirdo named Alister a mere few seconds ago. So why the hell was he floating in a spacious room with two ice sculptures? “I must be hallucinating. Why else would the Dark Magician Girl be talking to me in a room that doesn’t really exist?”

“Kaiba, you have been chosen to awaken the might dragon Critias… All you have to do is remove the sword.”

“Excuse me?” Kaiba gave up trying to understand what he was doing there and simply did as he was told. He soon learned that these were not ice sculptures, but dragons encased in ice, as Critias broke free of his prison.

“Now join forces with the dragon.”

“Anything to shut you up. …There. Now can you please awaken me from this dream?”

Kaiba’s hand lingered on the top card of his deck as he simply stared into space. In the real world, he still floated – but this time, it was on the Seal of Orichalcos.

“What’s wrong, Kaiba?” Alister, Kaiba’s opponent in this match, waited impatiently at the other end of the Seal. “Are you going to play your card or not?”

Kaiba said nothing, but merely scowled at Alister as he drew his next card. Am I still dreaming? I never put this card in my deck! …Still, it looks exactly like the dragon from my dream. I just pray to all that is good that it’s not another one of Alister’s tricks.

No! Dark Magician Girl’s voice played in Kaiba’s head again. You must use that card! It’s the only way to beat Alister!

“I now play Fang of Critias!”

“What? You can’t play that card!”

“Ah, but I can!” Kaiba slammed the card on his Duel Disk, revealing a face-down card at the same time. “Now I’ll fuse my Fang of Critias with my Crush card to create a new monster! Behold!”

“Seto, I wish you would stop saying ‘behold’ every time you played a good card…” Mokuba would have frowned, had he not believed his brother now had the upper hand.

“Shut up, Mokuba,” Kaiba scolded as Critias began to fuse with the trap card.

“What the hell? You can’t fuse a trap card with a monster!”

“Looks to me like I just did, Alister! Hahaha!” Now that the fusion was complete, Kaiba ordered, “Rise up, Doom Virus Dragon!”

“Hah! Big deal. My monsters are way stronger than yours!”

“This game isn’t just about attack points. Doom Virus Dragon also has a special ability: it can destroy all monsters on the field with attack strength of 1500 or more! And now that your monsters are gone… My dragon, attack Alister’s life points directly!”

“Oh, you haven’t beaten me yet, Kaiba. Reveal my face-down card, Contagion of Madness! So while I lose 1900 Life Points, you also lose 950 thanks to my magic card!”

As the Doom Virus Dragon fell to the Contagion of Madness, Alister lost the remainder of his LP – and so did Kaiba. “It’s a draw!”

Mokuba refrained from trying to get close to his brother – that was, until the Seal of Orichalcos stopped shaking, and disappeared along with Alister, knocking Kaiba backwards. “He’s gone!”

“This isn’t over, Kaiba!” Alister’s voice temporarily remained. “I’ll be back to make sure you pay for what your father did to me!”

After Alister had disappeared for good, Mokuba asked, “Seto, what does he mean ‘what your father did to me?’”

“…It’s a long story. Apparently, Father had destroyed his village to expand KaibaCorp’s influence, and in the process his kid brother was killed. What it has to do with me, I don’t know and I don’t really care.”

“That’s mean! His little brother is dead, and you’re saying ‘I don’t care?’ So what then, do you not care about me?”

“Does not giving you all your food, clothes, and toys not count as ‘caring about you,’ ingrate?” Kaiba yelled.

“…Seto…” Mokuba instantly started crying. “I’m sorry… I’m a terrible brother.”

“No, Mokuba, I should be the one apologizing… Still, I can’t say I fully understand what’s going on, so I think I need to do some research into this ‘Seal of Orichalcos’ and ‘guardian dragon’ business. If Alister really is going to try to duel me again, then I need to learn all I can about him and what his agenda is.”

As Kaiba motioned to leave, Mokuba asked, “Can I help you, Brother? Please?”

“If you’re aware of the danger, then okay. …And again, I apologize.”

______

Kaiba had spent the week calling everyone he knew to get information and researching on the Internet. Unfortunately, half of the people he tried to call “had their souls stolen (whatever that meant)” and the other half were more useless than wet paper. Maximillion Pegasus, to whom he now spoke over video phone in his office, was definitely the latter. “So you mean to tell me you’ve never created a card called ‘Fang of Critias’ or ‘Seal of Orichalcos?’”

“That’s right,” Pegasus answered from the other end of the phone. “Just like those ‘Pyramid of Light’ and ‘Blue-Eyes Shining Dragon’ cards. I think you’ve got yourself a new enemy, Kaiba boy.”

“Ya’ think?”

“Hey now, don’t get mad at me for something that’s not my fault… It’s just the truth.”

“I don’t think I have anything else to say to you… Bye.” Kaiba dropped the phone into the cradle and rolled back in his seat. Just as he wanted to take a nap, Mokuba let himself in the office. “Mokuba, what is it?”

Mokuba offered Kaiba tea and biscuits before asking, “So did you learn anything?”

Kaiba took a sip of the tea. “Nothing, except that Pegasus is a useless son of a bi- son of a gun. Apparently, the Seal of Orichalcos isn’t one of his original cards.”

“You think some big scary god… monster… thing might be behind it?”

“Probably. But I don’t even know where to start looking! What if that smug Alister comes knocking at my door?” Kaiba gritted a tea biscuit between his teeth.

“Why don’t you try asking Yugi and his friends!”

“No. Anything but that.”

“But they’re really good at finding trouble! Especially that… um… really tall version of Yugi. I think the pharaoh dude.”

Kaiba hid his blush behind the teapot at the mention of Yami Yugi. “Hmm… You may be on to something, Mokuba. Doesn’t make me any more excited to see the Dweeb Patrol again. Anyway, thanks for the tea and biscuits. Guards!”

“Yes?” Two German men entered the office.

Kaiba gave Mokuba a few ¥10000 bills before instructing his employees, “Take Mokuba into town and get him something nice. He deserves it for being such a good brother.”

Mokuba’s face beamed. “Th-Thank you, Seto! Bye!”

When Mokuba and Kaiba’s employees left, Kaiba put his head down on his desk. The pharaoh… Why didn’t I try calling him?

________

“Kaiba… Why are you here again?”

Kaiba had awakened to the chamber in which he met Dark Magician Girl – and the last dragon was no longer there. “That’s what I should ask you. Can I have a… I don’t know, a more typical dream?”

“You’re troubled. I can tell.”

“And that’s your business because?”

“I think that helping save the world is very much my business.”

“So why should it be mine?”

“Because your company would probably be at stake if something bad happened to the world in which it resides.”

“Okay, now you have my attention. Can you tell me what I need to know?”

“Your enemy is a man name Dartz, and Alister is one of his henchmen. He’s interested in taking your company over… And if he succeeds, the fate of the world could-”

“Oh, that does it! I’m going to give that bastard Dartz a piece of my mind! Thank you, Dark Magician Girl.”

“You’re welcome! But please… Find the other two chosen ones…”

_____

Kaiba felt no grogginess as he stood right up and motioned to arise from his desk. “All right, Dartz, just wait until I- Hm?”

The video phone on his desk rang, prompting Kaiba to sit back down.

“KaibaCorp, this is the man who’s about to kill you for interrupting my otherwise great day speaking- Oh. If it isn’t the blondie of the Dweeb Patrol.”

“My name’s Joey Wheeler, you jerk, and don’t you forget it!”

“Hey, Joey, you’re supposed to be nice to him, remember?” Téa whined.

“Shit, I forgot…” Joey quickly changed his demeanour. “I… don’t suppose you could lend us one of your private jets?”

“And what makes you think I would lend you something you don’t deserve?”

“Please, Kaiba!” Tristan showed himself and begged. “We’re stuck in the middle of the desert and we don’t even know where the nearest grocery store is!”

“You made your bed, so sleep in it.”

“But we need to find Dartz’s other henchmen! Yug’s already found his guardian dragon, Timaeus… And get this, I got a dragon called Hermos!”

“Did you say ‘Dartz?’ And ‘guardian dragon?’”

“Yeah! But… um… There’s something else I gotta tell you. Yug got his soul stolen by Rafael, one of the henchmen, after he lost a duel to him.”

Kaiba remained silent for a few seconds before saying, “Did you say… Yugi lost?” He took a look around the video, and noticed Yami Yugi in the corner, looking down in shame. The dweebs must be talking about the Yugi who’s half my height. But the pharaoh… Why… did he lose?

“Joey, dammit all, you weren’t supposed to tell him that!” Duke smacked Joey upside the head. “Uh… Yeah. That’s the long and short of it, Kaiba. So pretty please?”

“Go to hell, all of you!” And with that, Kaiba slammed the phone into the cradle. “Yugi… he lost!”

Mokuba had just come back from his shopping trip and had already put his purchases back in his room. Coming back to Kaiba’s office, he asked, “Seto? What just happened?”

“That fucking Yugi lost against some fucking nobody!” Kaiba arose sharply, knocking over everything on his desk.

“H-Hey, calm down!”

In the span of ten seconds, Kaiba’s back began to burn, and he could feel strong butterflies in his stomach. “Yugi…”

“Seto!” Mokuba didn’t care that Kaiba looked ready to kill him, he approached him anyway. “Snap out of it!”

“Rafael!” A giant sapphire appeared on Kaiba’s forehead as the windows overseeing much of Domino City shattered. “You are going to pay for what you have done!”

“Brother, what’s happening to you?” Mokuba simply fell to his knees in fear of what his brother had become – a wondrous but fearsome dragon that he knew well. “Why did you turn into the Blue-Eyes Shining Dragon?”

“Raaaaawr!” In this form, Kaiba couldn’t speak – and instead he whipped Mokuba with his heavy tail, throwing the boy against the wall so hard that it shook the furniture.

“Ouch!” Mokuba began crying – loud enough for five of Kaiba’s employees to hear.

“Mokuba!” One of them led the other four to Mokuba’s side before pursuing Kaiba. “You monster! You’re not getting away with this!”

Kaiba ignored this declaration and merely flew out of the building at breakneck speed.

[junker-town]

Who won Hall of Fame Game week in the NFL?

Derick E. Hingle-USA TODAY Sports

Michael Thomas got a massive contract. Vic Fangio got a kidney stone. Tough call, tough call.

Winning in the NFL doesn’t just happen on the field. Victories large and small come in many different forms, ranging from nine-figure contract extensions to a few kind words said by an important figure.

While we’ve got a whole table to determine division-by-division standings and playoff odds, we often lose track of the more subtle victors each week. Rather than just running down a list of the Dolphins’ weekly opponents this fall, I decided to take a deeper look at the winners who transcend the box scores and spill glorious into the greater world as a whole.

Which is good, because this week’s, uh, limited slate of games didn’t tell the world much about the 2019 season other than which team, the Broncos or the Falcons, had the weaker fourth-string lineup. So who “won” the first, single-game week of this summer’s preseason?

First let’s start with who didn’t.

Not considered: the actual football at the Hall of Fame Game

Due to an internet outage, I missed the first two minutes of gameplay in Canton. Somehow this equated to TWO ENTIRE POSSESSIONS.

Through their first three drives, the Falcons had twice as many penalties (two) as net yards (one). Ten of the game’s first 12 drives ended in punts. Three of those punts were muffed. It took rookie quarterback Drew Lock four passes to get within three yards of his intended target downfield. Denver challenged a pass interference call seemingly just to be the answer to an obscure trivia question for years to come.

But hey, if you liked six-yard passes on third-and-9, THIS was the game for you.

the 2019 Hall of Fame Game's longest plays: 3. DEN RB Khalfani Muhammad, 31 yard run 2. ATL DE John Cominsky, 33 yard muffed punt recovery 1. DEN CB Linden Stephens, 43 yard pass interference penalty

— Christian D'Andrea (@TrainIsland) August 2, 2019

Kurt Benkert was the shining star of this wind-up car demolition derby, and he still threw for 5.4 yards per pass and left the game in the fourth quarter with a foot injury. He and Matt Schaub are currently dueling for the chance to start Atlanta’s meaningless Week 17 game after half the roster has been shunted to the injured list by conquest, pestilence, war, and death. Falcons fans will shake their heads and mournfully tell the world they “knew it would end this way.”

While we’re on the topic of premonitions Falcons fans can feel in their bones, Atlanta lost thanks to a tipped-ball touchdown on fourth down with under two minutes to play. This was the only vaguely exciting moment in football’s 2019 preseason debut.

Now, on to the winners ...

5. Resplendent old guys at the Hall of Fame Game

Tony Gonzalez is gonna look like this until he’s 80:

Tell me he wouldn’t still put up 60 catches if the Patriots or Cowboys called tomorrow.

Ed Reed would probably do all right too. He looks like he’s spent the past five seasons gearing up to fly a fighter jet against an alien invasion that will ultimately be foiled because their spaceships run on binary code.

@TwentyER pic.twitter.com/9Bd1jZ0Jqw

— Baltimore Ravens (@Ravens) August 2, 2019

Former WCW superstar Kevin Greene (and part-time pass rusher, I guess) also made the most of his camera time.

The guy’s 57 years old and still rocking an absolute Hercules mane. Bonus points for wearing a watch apparently made from the tie-down straps of a military cargo plane.

4. Nathan Peterman, whom everyone* likes

Everyone loves an underdog. As far as NFL quarterbacks go, there’s no bigger underdog than Peterman, the man who once threw five interceptions in a 14-pass stretch to kick off his first NFL start. Getting chased out of Buffalo for ineffectiveness is typically the kind of offense that precludes a player’s journey to a budding and ultimately fruitless spring football league.

Not the Peter Man.

No, the quarterback whose bedraggled play in western New York made us all fall in love and spawned the least-hype hype video ever made is getting a second chance in Oakland. And, like the guy he beat out for a roster spot last year, Jon Gruden has a preseason crush on him for some reason.

“I like these guys. This Nate Peterman is growing on me,” Gruden told reporters at training camp. “He’s athletic. I know he’s had some nightmare performances in the NFL, but when you watch the film you can see why. It’s not all his fault, but he’s got some talent, he’s got some athleticism, he’s got some experience. Here’s an opening day starter for the Buffalo Bills last year. I take that very serious. And he’s smart. He’s done a good job, he’s been consistent and I think he’s starting to get his confidence back and we all need that.”

Naturally, this news was well received by Raiders fans. From SB Nation’s Silver and Black Pride:

No, coach, no. This is the sort of thing that Mark Davis should roll up a newspaper and smack Jon Gruden on the nose for saying. I get that Peterman played for literally the Bills and that he looks the part, like how a successful quarterback should look, in shorts. But Peterman also has a record of 1-3 as a starter and a QB/INT ratio of 3/12. He was aggressively ‘meh’ in college at Pitt, where he was essentially a more boring version of Tyler Palko, and when he got to the pro ranks based entirely on his genetics and through no achievements of his own, he proved how overmatched he was and how his decision-making ability rivals that of the kid who climbed in the gorilla pen with Harambe. Nate Peterman is the sort of musclebound stiff Vince McMahon would try and fail to make a big star in the 1980s.

But the joke’s on you, Peterman haters. Gruden’s not the only guy who likes this scrappy young upstart.

Find yourself a teammate who supports you like @derekcarrqb supports Nathan Peterman. #HardKnocksNow pic.twitter.com/WaElOAE0fA

— NFL Films (@NFLFilms) July 31, 2019

Peterman’s just out here trying to do his best, man. Listen to Derek Carr and give him his shoe deal. Preferably something from Member’s Mark.

*citation needed

3. Derek Carr, who is not threatened in the least

He gets to be friends with Peterman! He’s gonna be neighbors with Gruden!

It’s true. As David Carr said, Derek Carr has bought a home in Las Vegas. When it’s complete and he finally moves in, his neighbor will be ... Jon Gruden. #Raiders

— Vic Tafur (@VicTafur) August 1, 2019

I hope he likes cookouts where the only food option is Hooters takeout.

2. Jordan Lasley, who proved himself worthy of the Raiders (while a Raven)

If you get released for punching teammates and celebrating too hard, you get to be on Hard Knocks. Sorry, that’s how the league works now.

Here, you can kind of see the ball Jordan Lasley threw into the nearby pond shortly after his fight with the DBs. pic.twitter.com/AQyrDw8509

— Jonas Shaffer (@jonas_shaffer) July 29, 2019

The Raiders claimed Lasley — a 2018 fifth-round pick with zero career NFL receptions — days after Baltimore released him for fighting cornerback Cyrus Jones and turning his fists on safety Bennett Jackson for having the audacity to prevent him from breaking his hands on Jones’ helmet.

First fight of Ravens camp: WR Jordan Lasley takes exception to CB Cyrus Jones going high in press coverage and the two exchange blows. S Bennett Jackson tries to break it up and Lasley swings at him. Jackson then tackles Lasley to ground.

— Jamison Hensley (@jamisonhensley) July 29, 2019

Now Gruden has two quarterbacks who are best friends and an entire roster that wants nothing more than to fight anything and everything in its path.

Oakland’s final day of camp should just be a 30-man over the top rope battle royale. Last five men standing get roster spots. Winner takes on Vontaze Burfict at Halloween Havoc.

1. Michael Thomas, who now has an opinion on the capital gains tax

Is Thomas the best wide receiver in the league? It’s debatable, but you can make a strong argument for it. The fourth-year wideout has excelled in New Orleans, catching 229 passes the past two years for 2,650 yards. More impressively, he did so despite drawing constant double-teams from opposing secondaries who saw fellow wideouts like Tommylee Lewis, Willie Snead, Tre’Quan Smith, and a hobbled 33-year-old Ted Ginn and giggled to themselves, “heh, no.”

Is Thomas the highest-paid wide receiver in the league? He is now. Rather than run even the slightest risk of losing Drew Brees’ favorite target to either a preseason holdout or 2020 free agency, the Saints made him the first pass catcher to garner a $100 million contract, inking him for five years with $61 million in guarantees. He’ll now be counted on to present a field-stretching menace who not only gives Brees the latitude to make video game throws downfield, but also creates a little extra space for Alvin Kamara to create havoc.

Most importantly for New Orleans, Thomas was the balm that soothed Brees’ late-season blisters. The veteran quarterback appeared worn out while falling off an early MVP run; after recording a 126.9 passer rating in his first 10 games, that number dropped to 91.5 in his final five. Thomas’ numbers fell off in that home stretch too, but he still averaged eight catches and 65 yards per game. If the combination of extra defensive pressure and a reduced Brees aren’t enough to drop him to sub-Pro Bowl levels, what will?

Thomas got a record-setting contract and more ammunition in his battle to be crowned the league’s best receiver. And he didn’t have to play in the Hall of Fame Game. He wins this week.

Special mention: NOT Vic Fangio’s urethra

Fangio’s first game (kinda) as an NFL head coach after breaking into the pro coaching ranks 35 years ago almost didn’t happen.

Broncos’ HC Vic Fangio, scheduled to make his HC debut tonight vs Atlanta in Hall-Of-Fane game, spent a good part of the day in a Cleveland hospital with a kidney stone, per source. Fangio has not passed it yet, but he is doing better and he will try to coach tonight.

— Adam Schefter (@AdamSchefter) August 1, 2019

That every Broncos sideline shot Thursday night wasn’t just a window into the depths of human suffering was the Hall of Fame Game’s biggest upset. Every second he stood upright was a victory over the mutiny taking place inside his own body. With pirate ships circling his kidneys, Fangio stood atop his deck, surveyed the landscape, and asked his first mate to bring him his red pants.

Not that the pain wasn’t evident at times, despite a stoic front.

Fangio, for the record, wore this expression for four straight hours. Did he do all this just to become the first NFL coach to challenge a pass interference call? Probably!

[spectres-n-knights]

Starborn Saviour - Chapter 1

The Wrath of Heaven Galactic Year: 2204CE 4 years and 11 months earlier Location: Unknown Pain was what drew Shepard back to the land of the living, the aches and pains his body was feeling rousing him to wakefulness. Slowly he pushed off of the ground and put himself into a kneeling position. Shaking his head to clear out the cobwebs, he focused his mind to recall what had happened to him. He vaguely remembered the Kodiak's crash, how his kenetic shields and hastily constructed Barrier had mitigated most of the damage he could have received as he'd struggled to evacuate the burning shuttle, though his armour showed a few scorch marks from the initial explosions. He also vaguely recalled seeing some sort of building in the distance and how he had begun to make his way towards it, hoping to find some way of getting in touch with the Normandy to arrange a pick-up. But after that? Nothing but blackness and shadow. After a moments rest, he slowly got to his feet - though he swayed slightly once upright until he got his bearings back. Once his equilibrium had returned, the marine checked his HUD to make sure that his hardsuit was in working order before turning his attention to his surroundings. Where in the Void am I? The environment around him was like none he'd ever seen before: the sky was a hazy green and the ground beneath his feet was blackened and sickly. Unsure if the air was breathable, he chose to leave is helmet on and double checked that his hardsuit was properly sealed. After confirming that it was, he raised his eyes to the horizon to see if there was anything of note in his environs. A ramp in the distance caught his attention. A good a place as any to try and figure out where the heck I am, he thought to himself, drawing his HMWA and holding it loosely across his body as he set out at a sedate pace. <::::::::{}==[] ~ o ~ O ~ o ~ []=={}::::::::> Reaching the base of the rocky outcropping, Shepard paused a moment before he began to climb it. He was about halfway up when ghastly moans started to fill the air behind him and the marine's heart skipped a beat. He hadn't heard the sound for some time, not since the end of the Reaper War, but he knew what was responsible for it. Husks. Risking a glance over his shoulder, the marine cursed as he saw the particular type that were chasing after him; Abominations. Shepard stopped running immediately and turned to face the Reaper ground forces, opening fire with his assault rifle, expertly hitting some of the kamikaze zombie-like creatures. He stood his ground for about half an hour, his stock of thermal clips slowly dwindling, as wave upon wave of Abominations tried to reach him and overrun his position, but they fell from the soldier-turned-vanguard's incredible accuracy with his rifle and erupted in a visceral explosion of gore and taking scores of their brethren with them, which in turn set off more explosions of the volatile units behind. Realising that the waves were unending, the marine started to slowly walk backwards, retreating to the higher ground and slowing his shooting to the occasional three-shot burst. I can draw them up to the top and then use Charge to haul ass and get away. As he was shuffling backwards, he glanced behind him to judge the distance to the top. Movement at the top of the outcropping caught his eye. What is that? Someone else stuck here? Arming several of his HE grenades before swapping his HMWA for his HMWP, Shepard dropped his deadly payload before disappearing with a crack of displaced air. Reappearing at the top of the ramp, he saw a wispy, almost angelic, golden figure - a woman's figure - waiting for him, an arm outstretched and hand extended. Without thinking, the marine reached for the proffered limb. Two things happen in rapid succession following that action; the nerves in his left arm suddenly coursed with a surge of indescribable pain that soon ran through the rest of his body and then the world around him erupted into a barrage of iridescent green energy. When the latter faded, Shepard's darkening mind just barely registered that he was no longer where he had been before. Then he collapsed foreword, his HMWP slipping from slackening fingers and clattering away from him as the darkness claimed him. <::::::::{}==[] ~ o ~ O ~ o ~ []=={}::::::::> Location: Haven Summerday, 1st of Bloomingtide, 9:41 Dragon Cassandra had been baffled when some of the Inquisition's soldiers had brought in a warrior wearing the most unusual set of armour that she'd ever seen, with bizarre objects attached - somehow - to said armour. The man also had numerous injuries that should have been fatal, as if he had survived an explosion he had been in the centre of. Although he was out cold and therefore not a threat, she had searched him for any weapons and had found and removed two knives - one on his left thigh and the other on his right boot - before putting him in a stock and posting a dozen guards to keep an eye on their prisoner. Shortly after, Leliana had brought an apostate named Solas before her. The elf had witnessed the creation of the Breach and had sought out the fledgling Inquisition in order to join it. According to the Inqusition's Spymaster, knowing that his unique knowledge of the Fade would be of use, the mage had entered the Inquisition's camp voluntarily and surrendered his staff to Chantry forces without protest. He had been granted permission to study the lone survivor of the Divine Conclave's explosion and one of the smaller rifts, in hopes of finding a way to seal the Breach and helping the prisoner. Using healing magic and minor wards, Solas had also managed to prevent the mark on their prisoner's hand from growing and save the stranger's life. Cassandra had been shocked days later when Solas and Adan had both reported that the man was recovering from his wounds faster than what should have been possible, and she, believing that the apostate was responsible for the stranger's speedy recovery, had threatened to have him tried and executed. <::::::::{}==[] ~ o ~ O ~ o ~ []=={}::::::::> 2nd of Bloomingtide "His advanced healing is not of my doing, Seeker," the hedge mage responded to her threats when she'd had him hauled before her, "nor is it your alchemist's. Whoever this man is, he clearly possesses some sort of ability to recover quickly from any wound or injury that he receives." <::::::::{}==[] ~ o ~ O ~ o ~ []=={}::::::::> 4th of Bloomingtide A day and a half had passed since that meeting. Some in Haven had grown restless at the lack of retribution for what the outsider had done and had attempted to take justice into their own hands. Thankfully, Varric had been with Solas at the time and had used his crossbow to dissuade the dissidents from their course of action and leave the stranger be. Hours ago Solas had reported that the man had finally woken and that she would be able to talk to - interrogate - him before the elf and Varric had left the village to seek out one of the smaller rifts to study. Stepping into the room, Cassandra nodded her head at half of the guards. The men sheathed their swords and stepped back allowing her to pass, though they remained tense and ready to spring back into action if needed. The stranger watched her as she came to a stop before him, a guarded and wary look in his eyes but his face betrayed nothing else. So this is the man responsible for the destruction of the Conclave, Cassandra thought to herself as she locked eyes with him. This is Most Holy's murderer. This is Galyan's murderer. At that last thought, Cassandra's mind drifted back to the immediate aftermath of the explosion. <::::::::{}==[] ~ o ~ O ~ o ~ []=={}::::::::> 3 days earlier A hoarse scream rips its way out of her throat as she falls to her knees at the sight of the levelled Temple, the immensity of what’s happened crushing her. Galyan, oh, Galyan! Maker no, Maker why?! All around her the people of Haven have come out of their homes to stare up at the thing that has appeared in the sky in the explosion's wake but she pays them no heed lost as she is in her grief. Never again would she hear his voice. Never again would she see his goofy face The only man she'd ever loved, his life snuffed out long before it should have been. Gone, he's gone. She screams out again, tears streaming down her face, as horror and rage begin to boil inside of her as she watches the explosion dissipate. All the lives lost, not just Galyan's and Justinia's. She will have answers, will find and punish the one responsible for this unspeakable act. Then maybe she can join Galyan at the Maker's side. Suddenly Leliana is at her side, pulling her to her feet, saying something that Cassandra doesn't hear and begins leading the way to the Temple. They're almost at the Temple, have received reports that someone has survived the blast - a stranger suited in an even stranger set of armour - when another explosion rocks what remains of the Temple taking more lives of the men that were trying to get the stranger out of the ruins. <::::::::{}==[] ~ o ~ O ~ o ~ []=={}::::::::> "Tell me why I shouldn't kill you now?" Cassandra growled at the stranger, the grief she was feeling over Galyan's loss fuelling her fury. "The Conclave is destroyed! Everyone who attended is dead! Except for you." "You think I'm responsible." The man stated gravely. "I'm not." "Then explain this!" Cassandra reefed the man's left arm up to reveal the mark on his palm. "Or the fact that you killed more of the Inquisition's soldiers as they tried to move your body?!" The man's brow furrowed at her words before he looked down at his hip. "Shit. My heavy pistol..." He looked back up at her. "Your men touched it, I assume? Only Spectres can handle HMW gear safely." "What do spirits have to do with what you did?!" Cassandra snapped back. "Toto, I'm not in Kansas anymore," the man muttered to himself, confusing Cassandra even more - which in turn only made her angrier. Knowing that if she stayed she would likely do something that she would later come to regret, she decided that she needed to leave in order to cool down. "When I return, I expect you to start talking sense," she told her prisoner curtly as she let his arm drop before turning and leaving the room. <::::::::{}==[] ~ o ~ O ~ o ~ []=={}::::::::> Leliana was in the main part of the Chantry, speaking with Josephine when Cassandra stormed out of the jail. The Spymaster turned her head to regard Cassandra as she approached. "No luck?" She questioned the Left Hand as she came to a stop near her. Cassandra made a sound of disgust. "He speaks in riddles." "Riddles?" Josephine repeated. Cassandra sighed as she tried to shake off some of her frustration. "He's making no sense with the answers he gives me. Perhaps you might have better luck with him, Leliana." Their conversation paused as a group of soldiers strode past the three woman and out of the Chantry to join their brothers and sisters in the fight against the demons. Cassandra caught a brief glimpse of the Breach before one of the men closed the doors, which focused her mind on why she was talking to the prisoner in the first place. Turning back to Leliana, she asked, "Anything from Solas?" "His last report said that he is still no closer to discovering how to close the Breach." Leliana reported. "And the fighting?" "Getting worse as more demons pour through. We need to find a way to seal the Breach. And soon." Feeling suitably calmed enough to try and talk to their prisoner again, Cassandra said her goodbyes to Josephine and departed. Leliana fell into step with her as she returned to the prison. <::::::::{}==[] ~ o ~ O ~ o ~ []=={}::::::::> Stepping into the cell behind Cassandra, Leliana finally got a good look at their prisoner. The man looked to be in his late forties, perhaps early fifties. He was handsome, though Leliana doubted he was the sort of man who knew or cared for such things. His face had a stern stillness to it, a serious look clouding his cobalt eyes as his captors entered the room. He had a strong jaw dusted with stubble, his hair - possibly sable in colour, though in the prison’s low light it was hard to be sure - was cropped short against his head. "Are you going to be sensible now?" Cassandra barked at the man. The sound of the Seeker's voice snapped Leliana out of her study of their prisoner and back to the situation at hand. "I was being sensible, you simply don't understand what I'm saying," the stranger responded. "Do you have anymore of those things on you?" Cassandra demanded. "Yes." "Where?" "Shoulders. Back. Back of my waist." The blocky objects, Leliana realised. "Remove them, Sergeant!" Cassandra barked at one of the guards. "No!" The stranger tensed at the order immediately, drawing back a little as his body began to give off a hazy blue glow. "You're not in the best position to resist here, mage!" The soldier growled as he advanced. "I'm only doing so because I know what will happen if anyone else but myself does so. Please, don't do this! I'm begging you! ! What happened at the Temple will happen again if you do! ! !" The desperation in their prisoner's tone of voice as well as his rising volume as he spoke caught Leliana's attention. "Hold a moment, soldier," she spoke for the first time since entering the room and the soldier paused at her command. "And what happened at the Temple?" The spymaster asked the stranger. "The security protocols activated." He explained, his volume dropping once he was sure that the objects weren't going to be touched. "My HMWP only showed you a small taste of the destruction these things are capable of. The larger armaments could do a lot more damage. Possibly even level this building." "Is that a threat?!" Cassandra snarled as she strode foreword and placed the tip of her blade to the man's throat. "No. It's a matter of fact. I know my gear and what it's capable of in the wrong hands," The man stated, not at all fazed by the steel that was biting into his skin and drawing blood. "Look, if I had really wanted that to happen, why would I bother about saying anything? Why not just let your men remove my guns and then high-tail it out of here once the dust had settled?" "This is assuming that you survive the blast as well." Leliana pointed out. The prisoner said nothing in response, but there was a confident look in his gaze that silently said that he would indeed be able to survive such events if they occurred, which again piqued Leliana's interest. Like Cassandra, she had recognised that this man was different. "Who are you, stranger?" Leliana asked the man. "The name's Shepard," the man responded automatically. "Captain Jon Shepard. Alliance N7 marine, agent of the Citadel Council's Special Tactics and Reconnaissance branch and commanding officer of the SSV Normandy SR-2." "'Reconnaissance'?" Leliana repeated, latching onto the one word in the litany that didn't make her head spin. "A spy?" The man tensed. He'd not meant to reveal that particular tidbit given his situation, it seemed - or hadn't thought the implications through before he'd said it - but the introduction was clearly something he'd said to others before. Others that understood the entirety and meaning of it all. "In a sense, I am," the stranger admitted, unable to take it back. "Who sent you?!" Cassandra cut in angrily. "Why did you blow up the Conclave!?!" "What?!" The man recoiled, utter horror in his eyes at the accusation. "NO! I would never! !" Leliana noted that a brief look of guilt crossed the man's face despite his protests before his impassive mask fell back into place. He has done something like this before. Leliana realised. But given Cassandra's rage and grief over Regaylan's death, the spymaster chose not to bring her observation to the Seeker's attention. She'd likely kill him on the spot if she knew. "You're lying!!" Cassandra surged foreword, dropping her sword so that she could grip the collar of the man's armour, raising a hand as if to strike him. "We need him, Cassandra." Leliana reminded the Seeker as she put a restraining hand on the Nevarran's shoulder and pulled her back. Though clearly angry, Cassandra obeyed the command, both verbal and physical, and allowed Leliana to continue questioning the stranger without further outbursts since Leliana was getting more answers - answers that, for the most part, made sense - out of him then Cassandra had. "Do you remember anything? How this happened?" The Right Hand asked their prisoner once she'd turned back to face him. "I'm just as in the dark as you two are," the man responded, his face open and earnest. "The last thing I remember is heading out in one of the Normandy's shuttles to check out a strange energy signature that had appeared in the Widow System. The Kodiak's instruments went haywire and I was blinded by a flash of light. Next thing I know, I wake up here - so to speak - running from Abominations that were chasing me. And then… a woman?” “A woman?” Leliana repeated. “She reached out to me, but then…” The prisoner shook his head, clearly frustrated at his lack of memory. "Everything goes black after that." Cassandra stepped between their captive and Leliana, breaking the spymaster's gaze with the man. "Go to the foreword camp, Leliana. I will take him to the rift." With a nod of her head, Leliana turned on her heel and left the building. <::::::::{}==[] ~ o ~ O ~ o ~ []=={}::::::::> Once Leliana had left, Cassandra turned back to the prisoner and began to remove the stock. "What did happen?" He asked, his tone of voice plaintive, once his hands were free. "It is better if I show you," Cassandra responded as she gestured him to stand. She had to pause to stare at him for a moment when he did so - he was easily a head and a half taller then her - before directing him to go first. The stranger didn't move. "Before we go, you got a large-ish chest that I can use?" He asked. "For what?" Cassandra furrowed her brow at the request. "My weapons. I want to remove them." Cassandra narrowed her eyes. "You refused to do so before. Why now?" "I didn't refuse, I simply didn't want anybody else to do it." He pointed out. "Answer my question!" She snapped, not in the mood for his games. "Because they'll be useless soon enough," the stranger replied patiently. "And I'd rather not be the cause of any further grief so I want to lock them up to make sure that that doesn't happen as a sign of good faith." "Very well," Cassandra relented before turning to one of the soldiers still in the room. "Sergeant, find an empty chest and bring it here." "Right away, Lady Cassandra." The soldier responded, though he glowered at the prisoner as he passed him. <::::::::{}==[] ~ o ~ O ~ o ~ []=={}::::::::> The soldier return fifteen minutes later - with another man in tow, aiding him with his appointed task - with the requested chest and set it down at the prisoner's feet. "Thank you." The soldier said nothing in response to the prisoner's gratitude as he returned to his post. "Try anything and I will strike you down," Cassandra warned her prisoner, her hand resting warningly on the pommel of her sword - which she had retrieved and sheathed whilst waiting for the soldier to return - as he reached for one of the blocks. With his height, solid build and magic he could easily try to escape if he wanted to, which put her on her guard. "Noted." The man nodded, solemnly pausing for a moment and making eye contact with her to show that he had heard her before returning to his task. With practiced ease the man - Shepard. His name is Shepard - removed his strange armaments and placed them in the provided container. He also placed a pouch full of what looked to be spherical objects on top of the blackish-grey blocks before stepping back with a nod of his head to indicate that he was done. The chest was then locked and moved out of sight and Cassandra gestured at the door. Shepard moved off without hesitation this time. He walked only a few steps in front of her, his pace steady and he made no sudden movements that would alarm her, as she led him out of the Chantry, a few of those inside stopping to stare at the oddly armoured man. When the doors of the building were opened and the pair stepped through, Shepard paused, flinching as the brightness hit his unprepared eyes and he raised his still rope-bound hands to cover them until they adjusted. Cassandra stepped to the side, her eyes on the Breach as she began to speak. “We call it the Breach," she told him. "It’s a massive rift into the world of demons that grows larger with each passing hour. It’s not the only such rift, just the largest. All were caused by the explosion at the conclave.” “An explosion can do that?” Shepard questioned. Something in his tone of voice made Cassandra turn to look at him. He was watching the Breach with rapt attention, though his face showed a myriad of emotions; shock, horror, curiosity and rage to name a few. “This one did. Unless we act, the breach may grow until it swallows the world.” Behind her, though unseen to her with her back to it, the Breach surged and grew. At the same time, Shepard tensed, suddenly crying out in pain as he fell to his knees, cradling his left arm with his right. "And here I thought the Prothean beacon was bad..." Shepard muttered to himself as he recovered from the pain as best he could. Cassandra knelt at his side. “Each time the Breach expands, your mark spreads… and it is killing you. It may be the key to stopping this but there isn’t much time.” “You say it may be the key. To doing what?” He asked. “Closing the Breach. Whether that’s possible is something we shall discover shortly. It is our only chance, however. And yours.” “You still think I did this?" He scoffed, an incredulous look overtaking his features. "To myself?” “Not intentionally. Something clearly went wrong.” “And if I’m not responsible?” He demanded. “Someone is, and you are our only suspect. You wish to prove your innocence? This is the only way.” Taking a breath, he seemed to come to a decision. “I understand.” “Then…?” “I’ll do what I can to help." He stated. "Whatever it takes to prove that I didn't do this.” Cassandra helped Shepard to his feet and began to escort him through the village. Like in the Chantry, the people of Haven watched her lead the warrior through the buildings, but their stares were mistrustful and accusatory. Some jeered and leered at him while others shouted for his execution. “They have decided your guilt. They need it. The people of Haven mourn our Most Holy, Divine Justinia, head of the Chantry. The Conclave was hers. It was a chance for peace between mages and templars. She brought their leaders together. Now, they are dead.” At the far side of the settlement, soldiers opened a set of gates leading to the outside at their approach. "We lash out, like the sky. But we must think beyond ourselves, as she did. Until the breach is sealed." Cassandra drew a dagger from her belt before she stepped in front of Shepard, grabbing his hands so that she could cut the rope. "There will be a trial. I can promise no more. Come. It is not far." “Where are you taking me?” He asked while rubbing his now freed wrists. “Your mark must be tested on something smaller than the Breach.” she informed him as she sheathed her dagger and began to walk towards the far end of the bridge, trusting that Shepard was following her. <::::::::{}==[] ~ o ~ O ~ o ~ []=={}::::::::> Location: en route to the Temple of Sacred Ashes “Open the gate! We are headed into the valley!” The woman - Cassandra - called to the soldiers that were manning the gates. Shepard felt bereft and vulnerable without any sort of weapon on him as he followed her, but he still had his biotics if push came to shove. Plus with all the fighting going on, I should be able to pick up a sword and shield somewhere along the way. Here's hoping my old training is still buried in me somewhere. As a young man, he'd gone to a number of renaissance fairs and medieval reenactments with his adoptive mother, brother and sister. Never thought that that set of skills would come in handy again, but if they can keep me alive long enough to make contact with the Normandy, I'm not complaining. Passing through the opened gates, Cassandra began to lead them up a slope. As they moved up the path, Shepard took the time to study the Breach off in the distance. To the marine, it looked like the center of a storm, turbulent and churning like a tornado wanting to take shape yet never extending down to the ground. He was also reminded of the permanent, giant storms that marked the atmosphere of Jupiter and Neptune - especially after they stabilised. It was neither growing nor diminishing, but staying fixed like a constant swirling mass of energy. Ahead of them, several soldiers were coming down the slope, heading back to the village. "Maker, it’s the end of the world!" Shepard heard one of them shout as they passed by each other, drawing the Spectre's attention back to the path that they were traversing. Suddenly another surge of excruciating pain erupted in his left hand as the Breach once again expanded and Shepard fell to his knees, his breaths turning shallow from the agony he was feeling. Goddamned, motherfucking, cheap-ass, son-of-a-bitch! He cursed a litany of less then Christian words in his mind as he tried to work through the hurt. Eventually the pain began to recede and he began to recover. Cerberus implants or no, I'm not going to last if this keeps up, he dimly thought. When he became aware of his surroundings again, he saw that Cassandra was at his side, offering a hand to help him up. "Thanks," he offered her his gratitude once he was back on his feet - albeit a little shakily. "The pulses are coming faster now." Cassandra informed him as she kept a hand on one of his arms, offering herself as a support until he was able to stand on his own. "The larger the Breach grows, the more rifts appear, the more demons we face.” "How did I survive the blast?" He asked once he was steady, though he was holding his still tingling hand. "They said you… stepped out of a rift, then fell unconscious. They say a woman was in the rift behind you. No one knows who she was. Everything farther in the valley was laid waste, including the Temple of Sacred Ashes. I suppose you’ll see soon enough." Once Shepard was up to walking again, the pair set off once more. <::::::::{}==[] ~ o ~ O ~ o ~ []=={}::::::::> "What is this? 'Everything go wrong for Shepard' day?" Shepard grumbled to himself as he slowly picked himself up off the ground. A minute ago, they'd been crossing another bridge that would take them further into the valley when the bridge had been hit by some sort of meteor and had collapsed, sending himself and Cassandra tumbling down onto the frozen river below. Others on the stone crossing had not been so lucky and a now-dead soldier had landed on top of the marine as he'd been trying to get back on his feet the first time. Pushing the unfortunate man's body off of him, Shepard stood up only to see the Breach spit out another meteor. It hit the frozen river a short distance in front of where Cassandra was standing and something, something grotesquely ugly, rose - Formed? - from the pool of green light. Cassandra instantly drew her sword and shield before moving to engage the monster. “Stay behind me!” She shouted to him as she moved. Shepard allowed his biotic corona to flare as he looked for an opening to attack the beast without hitting Cassandra. But his attention was suddenly diverted when another of the creatures popped up right in front of him. Shit! Acting on instinct, the vanguard thrust out his right arm and used Throw to send the monster flying. He then turned back to the dead soldier and drew the man's sword from it's scabbard. Though it had been years - over two decades - since he had last wielded such a weapon, Shepard felt at home with the blade's weight in his hand almost immediately. Guess it's just like riding a bike; you never really forget how. Suitably armed for the time being, Shepard moved to help his companion finish off the beasts, running one through as it tried to ambush Cassandra from behind. “All clear,” the marine reported a minute later, making sure to glance around their surroundings to be sure, allowing his biotics to dissipate as he did so. He immediately manifested them again seconds later when Cassandra turned her sword on him. “Drop your weapon." She growled. "Now!” Shepard sighed. “All right. Have it your way," the marine responded as he let go of the sword and it clattered to the ground. "But you do know that if you’re going to lead me through a monster-infested valley, you’ll have to trust me eventually,” he pointed out as he kicked the blade away in a further show of good faith on his part. “Give me one reason to trust you.” Cassandra shot back. “Because my life is on the line.” He returned evenly. Cassandra let out a sigh of her own at his words. “You’re right. I cannot protect you, and I cannot expect you to be defenceless." She agreed and gestured for him to reclaim his sword, which Shepard bent to retrieve in an instant. "I should remember that you agreed to come willingly.” Sure that she wasn't going to do anything more to threaten him, Shepard turned on his heel and strode back to his sword's previous owner. When he reached the body, the marine knelt down and gently closed the man's eyes before he made the sign of the cross on himself. "May you find peace at God's side. In the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Ghost. Amen." Shepard murmured to the man. His respects paid, Shepard moved to remove the man's sword belt before turning the body over to retrieve his shield. "What kind of mage needs a sword and shield?" Cassandra questioned him as the marine stood and secured the belt to his waist before cleaning and sheathing the sword in it's scabbard. "I'm not a mage," the marine responded without looking up, instead reaching for the shield. Realising that his left Hahne-Kedar gauntlet was going to prevent him from using the shield comfortably, he removed it before sliding the shield into place on his arm. Modern armour; good for Milky Way weaponry, not so much for medieval. "Then what do you call what you did? What you're still doing?" Cassandra questioned and Shepard looked back up at her to see her warily watching the purple-blueish haze that blanketed his entire body. Realising that his corona was still on show, he let it fade. "My attacks and abilities may look like magic but they're not. Where I come from, what I do - what I am - are known as biotics." "Biotics?" Cassandra repeated the strange word, sounding it out syllable by syllable as if that would somehow allow her to understand what it meant. Shepard sighed. "I'll explain it all later, I promise. For now, though, shouldn't we be focusing on the whole 'end of the world' thing?" "Very well," the woman relented. "But I intend to hold you to that promise, just so you know." "Understood." He responded before he looked to where the creatures had popped up. "What were those things, anyway? Other then mean and nasty?" "A demon. A Shade to be exact." Mages.. demons... magic... Just where the heck was I sent by the anomaly? "Where I'm from, demons are things of stories. Definitely not real enough to tear into you," He mused. "And just where are you from?" "Even longer story. Not sure you'd believe it either. Where to now?" Shepard asked, hoping to get them back on track. "This way." Cassandra took the lead. They ran along the frozen river for a time before they turned to the right and traversed a small hill. Near the top there were two corpses garbed in the same armour like the man that Shepard had taken his sword and shield from. It made him realise that, other then the unfortunate souls that had perished on the stone bridge, they'd seen no other sign of anyone else. “Where are all your soldiers?” he asked Cassandra as they drew closer to the crest of the hill. “At the forward camp, or fighting. We are on our own, for now.” She responded, reaching the top of the hill first and Shepard saw her tense at what she was seeing below. "Company?" "Shades. Four of them," she reported to him. "If we flank them, we may gain an advantage." "You head down. I can wreak havoc from up here with my biotics. Hopefully I can take out a couple before you engage." Though she looked doubtful at his words, she followed his orders. Shepard watched her go for a moment before cresting the hill himself and used Lift to levitate two of the demons into the air, well away from Cassandra so that his next technique wouldn't harm her. Flare obliterated them. But something caught Shepard's eye regarding the eezo cloud as it dissipated; the blast radius of the technique was much smaller than normal. I'm not that out of practice with the technique. Shaking his head, he cleared his thoughts as he moved to join and help his companion deal with the remaining Shades. <::::::::{}==[] ~ o ~ O ~ o ~ []=={}::::::::> They continued on their way to the Temple, stopping to deal with two more smallish groups of Shades along the way. Currently, they were fighting the largest group they'd yet encountered at the bottom of some stone stairs. Just as they'd finished dealing with the Shades, a new threat arose; three green transparent humanoid figures was all that Shepard noted about it/them before they raised a limb each and sent several projectiles streaking towards him. He raised his shield to protect himself and when the attacks struck the cover, they scorched the metal a little. Energy based. Won't stand a chance against Warp. "Up on the hill! It attacks from a distance!" "Yeah? Well so can I!" Shepard growled. Without hesitation he constructed a Barrier to protect himself from another attack, though he furrowed his brow when it took him a couple of tries to do so - Again odd, I can usually create Barrier on the first try - before he retaliated with his own attack. The unstable energies of Warp tore the spirit up and it faded from view shortly after. "You okay?" Shepard asked Cassandra, she'd been hit by one of the Shades as she'd been finishing it off. "Fine," she replied, shaking off any discomfort she felt. "This way." Shepard followed the female warrior up the stairs and as they drew closer to the top, the marine's trained ears picked up the sounds of combat on the higher ground. "We're getting close." He stated to Cassandra. She turned her head to regard him as they continued upwards. "Oh?" "I can hear fighting.” He responded simply. Cassandra nodded, seemingly impressed by his observation. "We must help them.” "Lead the way." They quickly climbed the rest of the stairs before turning right at the top of the steps. As he stepped onto the level ground, Shepard got his first look at the smaller tear. If the Breach looked like a storm, the rift before him looked like a wound in the sky and it was 'bleeding' green light into the air around it. Movement at his side drew him out of his thoughts as Cassandra jumped down from the top of the stone wall, and approached the rift amidst the burning rubble, joining those who were already fighting the beasts. Shepard joined them seconds later, though he held back on his more destructive biotic techniques for fear of friendly fire and dealt with the threat the old fashion way. It didn't take long for the demons to be felled by the group. As Shepard made to step back, one of the group that they'd just joined - an elf - grabbed the marine's left hand and held it up to the rift. “Quickly, before more come through!” The elf shouted. Before the marine could do anything in response - namely yank his arm back - the mark pulsed and Shepard gritted his teeth at the sudden surge of pain. To his surprise, a stream of energy erupted from his palm and streaked towards the rift before connecting with it. Before his very eyes, and all of those around him, the stream began to shrink the rift until it disappeared entirely. When the elf let go of his hand, Shepard pulled it back to look at the iridescent green mark that ran horizontally across his palm. “What did you do?” “I did nothing." The elf responded. "The credit is yours.” “I closed that thing?" Shepard asked in shock, still looking at the mark, which shone brightly enough that it could be seen even through his black bodysuit. "How?” “Whatever magic opened the Breach in the sky also placed that mark upon your hand." The elf responded. "I theorized the mark might be able to close the rifts that have opened in the Breach’s wake – and it seems I was correct.” Cassandra approached the two men. “Meaning it could also close the Breach itself.” The elf turned his head to regard the human woman. “Possibly.” He stated before turning back to Shepard. “It seems you hold the key to our salvation.” “Good to know! Here I thought we’d be ass-deep in demons forever.” A dwarf approached Shepard now, the warm smile on his features putting the marine at ease. “Varric Tethras: rogue, storyteller, and occasionally unwelcome tagalong.” The stout man introduced himself before winking at Cassandra, who scowled in response. Shepard had to pause to allow his mind to catch up with everything that had happened in the last few minutes. Dwarves? Elves? What's next? Dragons!? Determined to not look like a fool, Shepard blurted the first thing that came to mind. “Are you with the church, or…?” And then immediately wanted to slap himself. He'd only seen humans in the building when Cassandra had escorted him out, so that answer should have been obvious - painfully so - to him. The elf chuckled in response. “Was that a serious question?” The dwarf - Varric - answered straight after his companion. “Technically I’m a prisoner, just like you.” Cassandra broke into Varric's statement. “I brought you here to tell your story to the Divine. Clearly that is no longer necessary.“ “Yet, here I am." Varric smoothly responded. "Lucky for you, considering current events.” Head still spinning, Shepard at least tried to remember his manners. “It’s good to meet you, Varric.” “You may reconsider that stance, in time.” The elf wryly responded. “Aww. I’m sure we’ll become great friends in the valley, Chuckles.” Chuckles? Hello James Vega junior. “Absolutely not." Cassandra cut in once again. "Your help is appreciated, Varric, but…” Varric turned to look at her. “Have you been in the valley lately, Seeker? Your soldiers aren’t in control anymore. You need me.” Cassandra made a noise of disgust before moving past the three men. The elf regarded Shepard. “My name is Solas, if there are to be introductions." He informed the marine. "I’m pleased to see you still live.” “He means, ‘I kept that mark from killing you while you slept.'” Varric translated. At that revelation, Shepard looked to his caretaker. “You seem to know a great deal about it all.” He half mused, half noted. “Solas is an apostate, well-versed in such matters.” Cassandra informed Shepard. "Apostate?" Shepard repeated the unrecognisable term, hoping for an explanation. "Apostates are mages who are not part of the Circle of Magi and are thus considered 'rebel mages.'" She responded, reading his expression of mild confusion correctly. “Technically, all mages are now apostates, Cassandra." Solas returned. "My travels have allowed me to learn much of the Fade, far beyond the experience of any Circle mage. I came to offer whatever help I can give with the Breach. If it is not closed, we are all doomed regardless of origin.” “Then I owe you my thanks.” Shepard offered the elf his gratitude. “Thank me if we manage to close the Breach without killing you in the process.” Solas returned. “And what will you do once this is all over?” Shepard asked. “One hopes that those in power will remember who helped, and who did not.” “That’s a commendable attitude.” Shepard noted. Solas shook his head. “Merely a sensible one, although sense seems to be in short supply right now.” "On that we agree." Shepard said, though more to himself than the elf. Solas turned to regard Cassandra. “Cassandra, you should know: the magic involved here is unlike any I have ever seen. Your prisoner is no mage. Indeed, I find it difficult to imagine any mage having such power.” “Understood." Cassandra nodded her head. "We must get to the forward camp quickly.” She stated as she started to move off with Solas hot on her heels. Varric lingered by Shepard's side for a minute before he, too, moved off. “Well, Bianca’s excited!” "Bianca?" Shepard half repeated, half asked the dwarf as they followed the others. Varric gestured to the crossbow on his back. Shepard chuckled. "You named your crossbow?" Any further conversation between the dwarf and human was stopped by Cassandra's call of “This way, down the bank. The road ahead is blocked.” “We must move quickly.” Solas added. Heeding the Seeker's - Have to find out what that means - instructions, the unlikely party jumped over some loose wooden railing and onto a narrow path below before continuing on their way. <::::::::{}==[] ~ o ~ O ~ o ~ []=={}::::::::> “Demons ahead!” Solas alerted the group once they were safely past the ravine that their chosen path was the lip of. “Glad you brought me now, Seeker?” Varric asked as he drew one of his crossbow bolts from the quiver on the back of his waist and loaded it. Cassandra said nothing as she and Shepard each drew their sword and shield in preparation to meet their opposition. Four Shades and three of those energy ghosts, Shepard noted as he flared his biotics around his right arm. Cassandra and Varric could deal with the Shades for the time being while he focused on the long range threat first. His priorities decided, Shepard hit two of the ghosts that were close together with Warp. As he moved to target the third, it was suddenly struck by a barrage of energy bolts that zipped by the Spectre first. Shepard turned his head to see that Solas was just turning his own focus to the Shades. Shaking his own head, Shepard turned to help as well, using Pull to yank a much larger Shade away from Cassandra before crossing the distance to finish it off. When their enemies were down, Shepard wiped his blade clean on the arm of his bodysuit before sheathing it. “So, I take it that you’re not from around here?" Shepard turned his head to see Varric regarding him as the dwarf collapsed his crossbow and stowed it on his back. "What's your name, anyway?” "Shepard." The marine supplied. "Captain Jon Shepard, at your service. And what gave me away?" He asked wryly. “Other than you being dressed in the strangest set of armour that I've ever seen and what you just did to those Wraiths, you mean?” Varric responded. “Is this another kind of interrogation?” Shepard asked, suddenly feeling a little cagey. “Oh, I’m sure Cassandra has done plenty of that." Varric replied with an unreadable look. "So no, no threats of violence if you don't answer. Just curious is all.” Shepard could see that, despite the dwarf's words, he wasn't going to let the question go until he got an answer. He also realised from the archer's words - and Cassandra's - that Varric must have also been on the Seeker's bad side at some point. “I brought you here to tell your story to the Divine. Clearly that is no longer necessary.“ Turning his thoughts back to his own dilemma, Shepard sighed. This might not go over well, but if I'm stuck here for the time being, better to get it out in the open sooner rather than later. "Ever look up at the stars at night? That's where I'm from." "What?!" His words were met with the expected reaction. Exclamations of shock. Incredulous expressions. Cassandra stared at him, eyes narrowing as she studied his features, clearly unconvinced. And there goes any trust I'd earned up until this point. Smart move, JJ, Shepard thought, inwardly shaking his head at himself and cursing his honesty policy. She's likely going to think that I take her for a fool from now on. Before anything else could be said to somehow recover the situation, the Breach - and his mark - surged again. Shepard groaned - The pain is getting worse with each burst now, he vaguely thought - but somehow managed to stay on his feet, though he still swayed dangerously on the spot. Varric and Solas were broken from their stupors at his previous announcement by his pain. “Shit, are you alright?” Varric was the first to reach him. Solas looked to Cassandra. “We must hurry, before the mark consumes him.” Cassandra said nothing. Her narrowed gaze was still locked on Shepard. Seeing this, the marine tried to offer an olive branch so that they could at least work together to see the mission through. "Look, I know you must be thinking that I must think that you're a gullible fool for me to say what I just did, but it's the truth. I know that it might sound far-fetched, but this world and it's system? They're just a tiny part of something that's much, much bigger then you can possibly imagine." Cassandra only made a sound of disgust before turning on her heel and heading up a set of stairs. "This way." Ten feet past six feet under now. Great. Shepard thought sarcastically as he wordlessly followed. They were about halfway up the steps when Varric spoke up again. “So… are you innocent?” Shepard regarded the dwarf who was walking at his side. “I don’t remember what happened,” he admitted freely. “Starborn, if you're able to spin a story about where you're from, you should probably be spinning one about not killing the Divine.” “Do not encourage him, Varric.” Cassandra snapped back over her shoulder before Shepard could say anything of the same effect. Though his lips formed a small smile at his newest moniker - What's another to the pile? - Shepard said nothing more. His attention soon shifted from his personal predicament to what was going on around them when he saw Cassandra draw her sword. "Contacts." The marine announced to Solas and Varric before preparing himself for battle before joining the fray. The fight was over as quickly as it began and the quartet were soon continuing along the path up the hill. “I hope Leliana made it through all this,” Cassandra worriedly stated as they moved, her eyes on the ruin and destruction that lay all around them. “She’s resourceful, Seeker.” Varric consoled the human woman. “We will see for ourselves at the forward camp." Solas chimed in. "We’re almost there.” At the top of the hill they turned left and climbed some more stone steps but before they reached the top, Shepard's mark began to crackle and spark. The marine instantly turned to address Solas. "Does this mean what I think it means?" "That there is another rift just ahead? I believe so." The mage confirmed Shepard's silent question. Cassandra affirmed their thoughts when she reached the top first. “Another rift!” Shepard heard a shout of “They keep coming! Help us!” from the top following Cassandra's announcement. Reaching the top of the stairs and entering the fray, Shepard had just begun to draw his sword when he was suddenly pounced on by a Shade that had popped up behind him and knocked to the ground. The demon then started to pummel it's prey's unprotected head but it was only able to score a couple of hits before Shepard's Omni-blade cleanly sliced off its head and ended the struggle. Using Throw he tossed the lifeless body off of him and quickly got to his feet before properly joining the fight. Once the last Wraith faded away, Shepard turned to the rift. “Hurry! Use the mark! We must seal it, quickly!” Solas called. As before, an energy beam lanced out from the mark and began to shrink the rift. Shepard had to steady his left arm with his right when the marked arm began to spasm in reaction to the pain as he did so. When the rift was sealed, Shepard fell to his knees, taking in greedy gulps of air to try and recover. “The rift is gone! Open the gate!” Cassandra said to one of the men guarding the gate. “Right away, Lady Cassandra!” Came the man's prompt response. Once his head had stopped spinning, Shepard took stock of his injuries. The Shade had managed to break his skin and now a thin trail of blood was winding its way down his forehead. Shepard touched two fingers to the wound and came back with a fresh coating of his lifeblood. Still bleeding? Okay now I know something is up. Using the tip of his sword, Shepard sliced open the left palm of his bodysuit. Exposing his thumb, he used his blade again to nick the skin and draw blood. "You okay, Starborn?" "Fine," Shepard responded, slightly distracted, as he licked the wound clean and then watched the fresh blood pool intently. "Is something wrong?" Solas asked the marine from somewhere behind him, watching Shepard as the human watched his thumb. Shepard said nothing for another minute. Blood's not clotting as quickly as it should, he mused. Getting to his feet before he met Solas' curious stare. "This thing," Shepard gestured at the now visible mark, "is affecting my implants." "Implants?" The elf repeated. "Devices implanted under my skin. They alter my body's natural functions." The marine explained. "If you were watching over me while I was out, I'm sure that you noticed that I somehow managed to recover quicker than what should have been possible?" Shepard asked. Solas glanced briefly at Cassandra before meeting Shepard's eyes. "I noticed it." Solas responded. She must have given him grief thinking he was responsible, the marine realised. "Under normal circumstances this," Shepard wiggled his cut thumb at the mage, "would be congealed and healing already. And if those implants are being affected, then the rest probably are as well. Which means I likely won't be able to use my synthetic adrenaline and I'll have to be careful with my biotics." Shepard felt a little more at ease now that he'd worked out what gremlins were causing him trouble. Picking up his dropped sword, he cleaned and sheathed the blade as he strode into the foreword camp. At the far end of the bridge he spotted Leliana with a man that was dressed in a red and white outfit - Must be a cleric - locked in a heated exchange that grew louder the closer he and his group got to them. “We must prepare the soldiers!” Leliana argued “We will do no such thing.” The cleric responded coldly. “The prisoner must get to the Temple of Sacred Ashes. It is our only chance!” Leliana insisted. “You have already caused enough trouble without resorting to this exercise in futility.” The cleric replied, clearly not having a bar of it. “I have caused trouble?” Leliana repeated, her tone incredulous. “You, Cassandra, the Most Holy – haven’t you all done enough already?” Roderick asked in exasperation. “You are not in command here!” Leliana snapped back. “Enough! I will not have it!” Roderick said in finality, ending the argument. Once Shepard was a few steps away from them, the cleric turned his gaze on the taller man. “Ah, here they come.” Leliana turned to see Shepard. “You made it." She said with undisguised relief before turning back to the cleric. "Chancellor Roderick, this is–” “I know who he is," Roderick turned to look at Shepard briefly before turning his gaze on Cassandra. "As Grand Chancellor of the Chantry, I hereby order you to take this criminal to Val Royeaux to face execution.” “'Order me’?" Cassandra repeated, clearly not one bit impressed by the command. "You are a glorified clerk. A bureaucrat!” “And you are a thug," Roderick retorted, "but a thug who supposedly serves the Chantry!” “We serve the Most Holy, Chancellor," Leliana cut in before looking away and quickly finishing, "as you well know.” “Justinia is dead!" Roderick exclaimed. "We must elect her replacement, and obey her orders on the matter.” Shepard narrowed his eyes at the man, though Roderick missed it as he was looking at Cassandra This was why the marine wasn't one bit fond of politics, though he did understand that they were a necessary evil of the world. His years as a Spectre had taught him that quite well. But seeing people suffer because of the higher ups refusal to take action never failed to get his blood boiling and the marine broke his silence to address the Grand Chancellor. “Isn’t closing the Breach the more pressing issue?” Shepard asked, his tone incredulous at the man's refusal to take action while men were dying all around him. Roderick whirled on Shepard. “You brought this on us in the first place!” He snapped back. Shepard had to bite his tongue to stop himself from firing something right back at the man as Roderick turned back to talk to Cassandra. “Call a retreat, Seeker. Our position here is hopeless.” “We can stop this before it’s too late.” Cassandra said as she came to a stop at Shepard's side “How?" Roderick replied wearily. "You won’t survive long enough to reach the temple, even with all your soldiers.” “We must get to the temple. It’s the quickest route.” Cassandra insisted. “But not the safest." Leliana pointed out, raising a hand to point out one of the nearby mountains. "Our forces can charge as a distraction while we go through the mountains.” “We lost contact with an entire squad on that path. It’s too risky.” Cassandra argued. “Listen to me. Abandon this now, before more lives are lost.” Roderick pleaded with the two woman. Beyond them the now much larger Breach expanded once more and the mark echoed the surge. Shepard felt his knees buckle as the pain crippled him as a result. I can't keep this up. If we don't seal this thing soon, my body is going to fail, he thought as he fought to regain control of his limbs and faculties. "You okay, Starborn?" "Just peachy," Shepard replied shortly as he - yet again - pushed off of the stone and got back on his feet. Cassandra was looking at him once he was upright and sturdy. “How do you think we should proceed?” “Now you’re asking me what I think?” Shepard questioned, a tone of scepticism in his voice. Cassandra had barely said two words to him since his revelation - and Varric's nickname and curiosity hadn't helped matters either - and had been calling the shots from the beginning. “You have the mark.” Solas stated. “And you are the one we must keep alive." Cassandra concluded. "Since we cannot agree on our own…” She's trying to put the whole 'man from the stars' thing on the back-burner for now. Shepard realised after Cassandra trailed off before he turned his thoughts to carefully ponder the choices presented to him, weighing the pros and cons of each course of action. After a minute of deliberation, he spoke, “I say we charge. I won’t survive long enough for your trial if we don't get this thing sealed shortly. Whatever happens, happens now.” Cassandra nodded her head, appearing to be happy with his choice, before she addressed Leliana. “Leliana. Bring everyone left in the valley. Everyone.” With a nod of her head, Leliana departed back the way that Shepard's group had come from to gather the needed reinforcements as the aforementioned party started for the gates. “On your head be the consequences, Seeker,” were Roderick's final words as the group marched past him and onto the chosen path. <::::::::{}==[] ~ o ~ O ~ o ~ []=={}::::::::> The first part of the path was heavy going, the thick snow and Shepard's collapses when the Breach expanded slowing them considerably. Varric's questions to Shepard about the Milky Way had also threatened to enact Cassandra's temper on more than one occasion. "So, Starborn, what else can you tell us about this 'big thing' that we're apart of?" "I told you before Varric; do not encourage him! !" "Can't help it, Seeker. It's too good not to." Cassandra's response was to stomp on ahead of the men. "I think you made her mad," Shepard dryly noted. But they pushed on and soon the snow began to thin as a result of the soldier's movements in the area and were at their destination shortly after, much to everyone's relief. <::::::::{}==[] ~ o ~ O ~ o ~ []=={}::::::::> The soldiers had set up an advance camp on the mountain and Shepard was currently paying his respects to the lost men in the morgue before he moved on to meet up with the others at the edge of the camp. "Ready?" They all nodded their assent. "Move out." <::::::::{}==[] ~ o ~ O ~ o ~ []=={}::::::::> The party were heading up a second set of stone stairs to an open stone doorway when the mark began to spark. Seeing that, Solas moved ahead to see the battlefield. “Be wary – another Fade rift. We must seal it if we are to get past!” He called back in warning to the others. “Quickly, then!” Cassandra ordered “How many rifts are there?” Varric asked in exasperation from behind Shepard. Movement just beyond the elf caught Shepard's eye then. "Solas, look out!" The marine shouted as a meteor streaked toward the stone doorframe where the elf was standing. Without questioning the human's warning, the mage used what was obviously the magic equivalent of biotic Charge - though Solas left a trail of something wispy looking behind him as he moved, and it was cold if Varric's shiver when he went by the dwarf was anything to go by - and dashed to safety before the meteor smashed into the door, killing an unfortunate soldier that was just crossing the threshold to join the battle. "My thanks." Solas offered his gratitude to Shepard. "Don't mention it. Shall we?" The protagonists respectively skirted around the deceased soldier before joining the fight beyond the doorway. There were four soldiers already engaging the demons. Shepard's eye was instantly drawn to one of them. While he wore armour similar to those around him, he also wore a surcoat over the top with what appeared to be a fur mane topping it. The man's helmet was fashioned to look like a lions head. He was also giving orders to the men around him about how to engage their enemies. Looks like I've just found the CO of this army. Stowing those thoughts for later, Shepard joined the fight, stunning the Shade that had moved to attack him with a strike to the head with the pommel of his sword before running it through. The remaining Wraiths and Shades followed shortly after. "Get ready! Here comes the next wave!" Solas said to the group. Shepard tensed in preparation as a pool of green energy formed near his feet as a new demon took shape before him. "SCREEEEE" Shepard instantly froze at the sound. A Banshee!? Here! ? ! Just like that, he was back on Earth during the final hours of the Reaper War, one of the hideously twisted asari units looming over him after he'd come to a faltering Liara's side. One second he was trying to get his longtime friend to shake out of her own fear, the next he'd been snatched up and the monster had shrieked in his face as it had lined up it's nail-like fingernails with his unprotected abdomen... "Starborn! Move! !" Varric's shout snapped Shepard out of his fear induced stupor to see one of the spindly demon's clawed hands streaking towards him. Without even hesitating, the vanguard vanished from sight. He reappeared at the far side of the battlefield. Once he'd got his heart under control, he rejoined the fight, though he caught a dark look from Cassandra as he did so. Going to catch hell for that later, no doubt. This new demon seemed to be an ambush specialist. If allowed, it buried under the earth and came back up under an unsuspecting victim and then swiped at them to finished them off. With several of them on the field, Shepard's instinct to Charge to safety was tested and fought many times, but he managed to not use the technique and use old fashion rolling and running to get out of harms way before striking back by hacking off it's limbs to make it less of a threat. When the last demon fell, Shepard instantly moved to close the rift. Once done, Shepard took a moment to catch his breath before looking for Cassandra. “Lady Cassandra," the CO started to say to her, but Cassandra ignored him in favour of storming up to Shepard. And here we go... Out of the frying pan and into the fire as they say... Cassandra's blade was at his throat before he'd even finished the thought. "Where were you going!?" She snarled. "I wasn't trying to escape. I gave you my word, remember? And what a Shepard starts, a Shepard finishes." He quoted his family's motto. "Then what was that?!" "A knee-jerk reaction. The last time I heard that scream that close to me, the thing responsible nearly ran me through." Shepard explained. "I only used Charge to get to safety. That's it. I wasn't leaving the battlefield. That's not my style." "And what is your 'style'?" She asked shortly, clearly annoyed that he was - in her eyes - not talking sense. "That I follow my people into any danger. That I don't expect them to do something that I wouldn't do myself first." He saw that Cassandra's anger began to relent as he continued to speak and slowly, ever so slowly, the tip of her blade left his skin. "I can't promise that I won't react the same way if we encounter anymore of that particular demon and I'll try to work on it." He told her honestly. "But if I do it's only because of that bad experience at the end of the Reaper War." "Reaper War?" Cassandra repeated. Shepard chuckled. "At the risk of sounding like a broken record; long story." "Broken record?" She parroted him again, looking decidedly more perplexed at his strange words than before. Shepard laughed fully this time. "Later. I'll tell you later." Solas approached the two humans as Cassandra cleaned her sword and sheathed it before turning to address the CO, though not before shooting Shepard an unsure look. Which he completely missed wrapped up in his laughter as he was. “Sealed, as before. You are becoming quite proficient at this,” the elf praised the marine as he calmed down from his mirth. “Let’s hope it works on the big one,” Varric said. "No arguments from me there." Shepard agreed before turning his attention to Cassandra's conversation. "-the rift? Well done.” Shepard caught the last of the CO's sentence. “Do not congratulate me, Commander. This is the prisoner’s doing.” Cassandra turn to look at Shepard as the marine approached them. “Is it?" The man turned to look at Shepard, removing his helmet as he did so. "I hope they’re right about you. We’ve lost a lot of people getting you here.” “You’re not the only one hoping that.” Shepard muttered in return, half to himself and half to the man. “We’ll see soon enough, won’t we?” The man returned evenly. “I can’t promise anything, but I’ll try my best.” Shepard said, trying to sound more confident in his ability to succeed in the task that he'd been given. “That’s all we can ask.” The man responded before turning back to Cassandra. “The way to the temple should be clear. Leliana will try to meet you there.” Cassandra nodded her head. “Then we’d best move quickly. Give us time, Commander.” “Maker watch over you – for all our sakes,” the Commander returned before he turned and headed towards the soldiers camp, stopping to help an injured soldier that was hobbling away. "This way," Cassandra said to Shepard. Taking the lead she led them towards the ruined building in the distance. <::::::::{}==[] ~ o ~ O ~ o ~ []=={}::::::::> Location: Temple of Sacred Ashes “The Temple of Sacred Ashes.” Solas murmured as the group picked their way through the charred and scorched environs. “What’s left of it.” Varric muttered. Shepard stopped to take in the damage all around him. He'd been at ground zero of a few explosions over his career with the Alliance and unbidden the images of the immediate aftermath of the Dracon Trade Center bombing on Illium eighteen years prior sprang to Shepard's mind as he observed his surroundings. The damage done here was a hundred times worse than anything he'd seen before. More than half of the ancient structure was gone. Broken pillars and tons of rubble littered the ground and a layer of ash and soot covered them all like a blanket. There were also lots of charred remains of those who had been caught in the blast, some of them frozen in their last acts before death had claimed them. Strangest of all were red crystals that were growing out of the ground like glowing spikes. “That is where you walked out of the Fade and our soldiers found you." Cassandra informed Shepard, breaking him out of his study of what remained of the temple. "They said a woman was in the rift behind you. No one knows who she was.” There were several relatively fresher bodies around the area Cassandra was showing him. The victims of my HMWP's security protocols. Shepard realised. "I'm sorry," he apologised to the men he'd unintentionally massacred as he knelt by their bodies. "If I'd known what I was coming to - where I was coming to - I would've holstered my pistol." Shepard lamented. "You could not have known." Solas consoled the Spectre. "All Spectres know about the security measures built into HMW gear, we know what they can do." Shepard refuted, turning his head to look at Solas. "That's why we keep an eagle eye on them when we're out in the field and actively using them. Even in an unknown environment, enemies closing in on me or no, I should've exercised more caution. These men paid the price for my rookie mistake." The marine turned back to the bodies. "A fate that they didn't deserve." I'll make sure that you didn't die in vain. Even if it kills me, I will close the Breach. This I swear. he silently vowed before he rose from the ground and moved to join the others. Cassandra led them through a mostly intact hallway that lead to their destination. The Breach loomed over them once it was visible again, looking even more imposing and menacing at point blank range. “The breach is a long way up.” Varric murmured, craning his head upwards to take in the thing that they'd come here to close. Shepard couldn't help but agree. No getting around it. This is going to be an absolute bitch to seal. Wrapped up in his thoughts and mental preparations for the task ahead, Shepard didn't see Leliana enter the ruins behind them with some soldiers in tow until she spoke up from right behind him. “You’re here! Thank the Maker.” “Leliana, have your men take up positions around the temple.” Cassandra ordered. Leliana nodded her head before she walked back to her people to give them their orders. Cassandra looked to Shepard next. “This is your chance to end this. Are you ready?” She asked. Shepard turned back to the Breach. Using Charge he could get to the upper parts of the temple, putting him a little higher, but still too far from the green maelstrom above them. If ever there was a time to be like that ant with the rubber tree plant... “I’ll try, but I don’t know if I can reach that, much less close it." “No. You need only focus on the rift." Solas informed Shepard. "This rift was the first and is the key. Seal it, and perhaps we seal the Breach.” “Then let’s find a way down. And be careful.” Cassandra advised. Shepard looked over the stone railing he was standing by to judge the distance to the ground. Not that far compared to some of the jumps I've made over the years. Under normal circumstances, he would have jumped already and used his biotics to slow his descent. But with the mark disrupting the tech in his body, he wasn't sure if he could do it safely. Old fashion way it is, then. Following Cassandra, who seemed to know her way around the ruins, the group slowly made their way down. They had only gone a little ways when a voice - low and deep - suddenly emanated from the rift. “Now is the hour of our victory. Bring forth the sacrifice.” The group paused at the sound. “What are we hearing?” Cassandra asked as she turned to look at Solas. Shepard also turned to look at the elf. “At a guess: The person who created the Breach.” Solas responded. Uneasy with what was going on, but knowing that they needed to get to the bottom, Shepard was the first to move. The others followed his lead as he passed two archers that were in position overlooking the rift. A little further along there were more of the strange crystals jutting out of the ground and floor. Intrigued, the marine walked in close to have a closer look, one hand slowly reaching out. "I wouldn't do that if I were you, Starborn!" Varric called out before Shepard's fingers could touch one of the growths. Shepard turned his head. "What are they?" "Red lyrium. I don't know what it's doing here-" “Magic could have drawn on lyrium beneath the temple, corrupted it.” Solas theorised, breaking into Varric's sentence. "-but don't touch the stuff. It’s evil!” The dwarf all but spat out his last few words. Sounds like he learned that from personal experience. "And lyrium is?" Shepard queried, but he took a step back from the crystals while he waited for an answer "It is a substance that, in its processed form, restores a mage's powers when they are drained and aids those without the gift to restrict magic's use." Solas supplied. "But contact with it in its raw form can, at best, drive you mad and at worst, kill you. " Any further questions on Shepard's part were stopped when the voice they'd heard before spoke again from the rift. “Keep the sacrifice still.” Straight after, a new voice was heard, this time feminine. “Someone help me!” From her place just ahead of him, Shepard saw Cassandra freeze. “That is Divine Justinia’s voice!” She exclaimed. Now determined to get to the bottom of what was going on, Shepard continued along the path they were on until he found an area where he could safely jump down into the pit. The Divine's voice rang out again as he recovered from the jump. “Someone help me!” “What’s going on here?” Shepard's head snapped up to the rift at the sound of his own voice. So I made it to the Temple at least, but why don't I remember anything else?! His thoughts were broken by Cassandra, who had turned to look at him upon hearing the marine's voice coming from the rift. “That was your voice. Most Holy called out to you. But…” A flash of white from the rift blinded them all for a few moments. When the brightness faded they were suddenly surrounded by ghostly images. To his left he saw an elderly woman dressed in the same red and white garb that he'd seen Roderick dressed in - though Justinia's were a little more ornate then the Grand Chancellor's, befitting her status as the head of the church - being held by red energy streams that wrapped around her arms. A large dark figure with glowing red eyes loomed over her menacingly. Straight ahead of him, Shepard saw his own ghostly form run into the room. “What’s going on here?” “Run while you can! Warn them!” Ghost-Justinia called out to Ghost-Shepard. The monstrous figure pointed a finger at Ghost-Shepard. “We have an intruder. Kill him. Now.” A second flash of white light occurred and when it faded the figures were gone. What the hell!?! “You were there! Who attacked? And the Divine, is she…? Was this vision true? What are we seeing?” Cassandra whirled on him, the look on her face demanded answers from him. “I told you; I don’t remember!” Shepard snapped back, his patients threadbare with all he'd seen and heard in the past few minutes. He could make neither head nor tail of it all and it left him feeling unsettled and confused. “Echoes of what happened here. The Fade bleeds into this place.” The elf cut in to explain to the two humans what it was that they'd just witnessed. “This rift is not sealed, but it is closed… albeit temporarily. I believe that with the mark, the rift can be opened and then sealed properly and safely. However, opening the rift will likely attract attention from the other side.” “That means demons. Stand ready!” Cassandra signalled to the archers, including Leliana, that were posted around the higher levels of the room. They responded by stringing their bows and making sure that their quivers were close at hand for the fight to come. Once done, Leliana nodded back to Cassandra who in turn looked to Shepard, who was looking at the rift. Shepard's eyes took in the rift that he had to close. Unlike the rifts they'd encountered on the way to the Temple thus far, this one was easily double in size. Lord, give me the strength to see this through to the end, Shepard said a silent prayer to his maker as he prepared himself for what was to come. And should I fail, may I find myself at Your side in Heaven. His peace made, he extended his arm to begin the process. The moment his energy beam hit the rift, it sprang open and something was spat out. Holy Mother! was all the marine could think as their next foe took shape before them and Shepard had to crane his head to see it in it's entirety. The thing was massive, easily rivalling a Brute in size. And like the turian/krogan hybrid, it was covered in thick armoured skin and seemed to be slow in it's movements. "Now!" The archers loosed a volley of arrows at Cassandra's shout, some of them penetrating the beast's skin but the majority bounced harmlessly off of it's tough exterior. It'll be dangerous at CQB if you get too close to it. Those arms look like they could tear a krogan apart easily. Work in it's blind spot, attack from behind. Reave and Flare would work best against it to bring it down quickly. In hopes of learning this particular demons name, Shepard glanced at Solas with his head tilted in a curious manner. "Pride demon." Solas said in answer to Shepard's silent question. Makes sense I suppose, pride is the most common transgression of the seven deadly sins, after all. Even he wasn't innocent of that particular emotion, such as when he had graduated from the ICT program with top honours and top of his class. This thing is a physical representation of that. His observations complete and seeing that the archers were no longer firing, Shepard moved in to engage. “We must strip its defenses! Wear it down! Quickly! Disrupt the rift!” Cassandra called to him. Reaching his arm out, he used the mark once more. But he was surprised this time to see that when the energy beam made contact with the rift, the rift surged with the energy before redirecting it towards the demon. The beast roared in pain when it was struck and fell to its knees “The demon is vulnerable – now!” Following Cassandra, Shepard skirted around to the demon's back while Cassandra focused on its head and eyes, hoping to blind it before it could get its bearings back. Several more of Leliana's people - warriors - joined in. Working together they managed to hack off sections of the demon's hard skin and get to the softer flesh beneath. Every time the beast was on the verge of recovering, Shepard disrupted the rift and brought it back to it's knees. But then the status quo changed. Behind him the Breach - and by extension the rift - surged again and several more demons, Shades, were spat out and joined the fray. “More are coming through the rift!” Cassandra alerted all the combatants on the battlefield. Shepard turned to deal with the smaller threats, and the Pride demon started to recover without the marine constantly disrupting the rift to keep it off balance. His inattention to the larger threat's regained equilibrium cost him; the Pride demon seized it's opportunity and closed in on him before it backhanded him and sent him flying back across the length of the ruin. His impromptu flight was halted - violently - when he hit a rocky outcropping on the far side of the room and his visioned dimmed for a moment as he slid down the wall painfully. "Shit, Starborn!" Shepard vaguely heard Varric shout out as stars danced in and out of the marine's vision. Without synthetic adrenaline to help him recover, it would be a while before he was back on his feet and back in the fight. Another rookie mistake. You never take your eye off of the top priority target until it's dealt with! Idiot! ! Stupid, stupid, stupid! ! ! "Solas, help him!" Cassandra called out to the elf as she and another shield carrying warrior dealt with the Shades. Shepard saw Solas use his magic Charge to cross majority of the distance between them before running the rest of the way. "Are you all right, Captain?" He asked as he knelt by the marine's side. "Been better." Shepard bit out as he pushed himself into a sitting position. Solas handed him a flask that was filled with some sort of liquid. "Here." Shepard took it. "What is this?" "A healing potion. Drink." Solas instructed. While he was sceptic, Shepard had to remind himself that the elf had watched over him while he was recovering. If I'm the only one that can close this thing, I doubt that they'd try to poison me before I'd finished my task. After a minute of debating and hesitation he took a breath, took off the lid and then downed the contents. Instantly he began to feel better, the pain he was feeling beginning to ebb and his mind began to sharpen. When the pain in his body had faded enough he started to try and get to his feet. Solas offered him a hand when he faltered. "Thanks." "You are welcome." Once he was sturdy, Shepard recalculated and changed his method of attack, focusing his mind on what he needed to do. Seeing that Cassandra would be in danger from his next attack he called out to her, "Seeker, move!" Cassandra heeded his warning and moved to the beast's other side as Shepard sent out a sliver of biotic energy aimed at the creature's shoulder. The resulting explosion as the technique detonated inside the Pride demon blew its right arm completely off. Even though he knew that it was petty and beneath him Shepard couldn't help but shout, "That's payback, motherfucker!!" The demon roared in agony and turned it's focus from the warriors surrounding it to Shepard as it began lumbering towards him. "Do it again, Starborn! Whatever you did, do it again!" Varric frantically shouted from somewhere in the room. It was then that Shepard saw that many of the warriors that had been fighting the demon were now staring at him wide-eyed, fear present in their eyes at the sight of what he'd done to their enemy before they returned to the fight with renewed vigour. Heeding Varric's request, Shepard used Reave again, this time targeting the demon's chest. The explosion removed a sizeable chunk of the behemoth's front. The Pride demon roared out again in pain and rage as it stopped moving in favour of covering it's newest injury with it's remaining arm. Now the endgame! Shepard focused all his energy to power his biotics for his next attack before shouting, "Clear the area!" His orders were heeded and everyone left the immediate area around the wounded demon. Once his biotics were as powerful as he could make them, the vanguard thrust out an arm and sent Flare on its way. "Checkmate, beastie." Shepard growled just before the attack hit. When the biotic explosion faded there were only a few chunks of the Pride demon left, scattered about the ruins. Then a wave of exhaustion hit the marine. And there's the drawback. Shepard used Flare sparingly in fights because of the exhaustion period following its use. In an active evolving firefight, that rest period of not being able to use their biotics could be fatal for a vanguard unless their squad was close at hand to cover their retreat to safety. Solas regarded the suddenly ragged looking human. "I take it that your attacks have a cost, not unlike magic?" "Depends on the technique used. And how do you know that I'm not a mage?" After being labeled as magic user despite his own protests that he wasn't, Shepard found himself curious as to how Solas was able to definitively say otherwise. "You do not draw from the Fade when you use your abilities as mages do." Solas said simply. "From what I have observed, it seems that your..." the elf trailed off, unsure of what word to use. "Biotics." Shepard supplied. "Biotics," Solas repeated, nodding his head in thanks for the correct term before continuing, "are generated from within your body." "And you'd be right." Shepard told him, impressed by the mage's observations. "But now's not the time for further conversation." "Indeed. The Breach is our top priority." Leaving Solas at the edge of the ruins, Shepard strode to where Cassandra was waiting for him. Nodding to her, he stepped past her and looked up at the rift and the Breach above it. Here we go. “Now! Seal the rift!” Cassandra called as he extended his arm and raised his palm to the rift. The second that the energy beam connected with the rift Shepard knew that it would be a struggle for him to get this done without passing out. But he'd be damned if he didn't give it his all like he always did before that moment in time. When his left arm began to spasm, he steadied it with his right. When his legs started to give way, he dropped to his knees. When his heart began to race, he focused his mind to calm himself down. When his vision began to dim, he closed his eyes and used his ears to listen to what was happening around him. After what felt like an hour, but in reality was only a few minutes, Shepard felt the rift surge before it snapped shut, a thin line of green the only proof that it was still there. Beneath his closed eyelids, Shepard's eyes rolled as his body began to shut down and he fell to his side. In a last act of Herculean effort, the marine opened his eyes - squinting at first in reaction to the light streaming in - to see Solas kneeling at his side and talking to Cassandra and Varric, though he couldn't make out any words, who were approaching them. Mordin, Thane, Kaidan, if this is the end, hope you've got a heroes welcome ready for me... Then, as before, he saw nothing as the darkness rose up to greet him like an old friend. <::::::::{}==[] ~ o ~ O ~ o ~ []=={}::::::::> "Chuckles, is he...?" Varric asked, sounding hesitant about voicing his question aloud in case the worse case scenario had occurred, as Solas knelt by the prisoner's body and gently rolled him over. Cassandra watched as the mage cast a spell on the human before focusing on his patient. There were a few moments of silence before Solas spoke. "He is fine, Master Tethras. Unconscious, but alive." "And the Breach?" Cassandra asked the apostate. Solas turned to look at her. "It is not sealed, but it is now stable. With more power behind the mark, I believe that a second attempt will succeed in sealing it completely." "You're sure Starborn's okay, though?" Varric asked again and Cassandra fought the urge to round on him. She was sure that the only reason the dwarf insisted on calling the prisoner by the ridiculous nickname he'd given him was to irritate her further. "With the Breach stable, the mark should no longer threaten Captain Shepard's life and his implants should start to function normally again." Solas assured the dwarf. "I suspect that he may be back on his feet for you to question in a few days." "Cassandra?" Leliana called out to the Seeker from her vantage point and Cassandra heard her silent questions. "He is fine, Leliana, and the Breach is stable. Not sealed, but stable." She saw Leliana relax in relief. The prisoner would be no good to them dead if they needed him for another attempt at the Breach. And while she believed that he was lying - delusional even - with weaving his ridiculous stories about being from another world, she no longer believed that he was at fault for the Conclave. "I would advise that we get the Captain back to Haven as soon as possible, Seeker." Solas spoke, bringing Cassandra's attention back to the mage and the man his was caring for. "We should fashion a stretcher." "Understood. Leliana?" "Consider it done." Leliana turned away from the railing to locate the needed materials. In short order Leliana and her people had fashioned a litter and brought it down to Cassandra. Carefully they transferred the prisoner onto it and lifted him out of the pit, though not without a fair amount of struggle in order to do so, and then out of the Temple completely. Once out back in the snow, the procession slowly made it's way back to Haven. Acronym Index: HUD; Heads Up Display HMWA; Spectre - Master Gear Assault Rifle HMWP; Spectre - Master Gear Heavy Pistol HE; High Explosive HMW; Spectre - Master Gear CO; Commanding Officer CQB; Close Quarters Battle Authors Notes: The security protocols on Spectre weaponry and the different take on Reave are both from LuxDragon's writings. Used with permission Now I'm sure all that have just read this are saying 'A vanguard can't do (insert biotic technique)!' or 'A vanguard doesn't have adrenaline implants!' or 'A vanguard only carries shotguns and pistols!' Let me explain; I may have said JJ is a vanguard and he thinks and refers to himself as one, but in reality he's multi-class as he's picked up different skills over the years of his career. When he enlisted in the Alliance he trained as a soldier so he uses all weapon types and got his adrenaline implants. When he was rebuilt by Cerberus Miranda noticed his eezo nodes and cultivated them, turning him into a biotic and his time with Miranda, Jacob, Jack and Samara meant he learned their different techniques during the suicide mission. His time while under house arrest after Bahak was spent learning Nova, Javik teaches him Dark Channel and Aria taught him Flare while they were taking Omega back from Cerberus. And given that Starborn is set after the end of Mass Effect 3, he's had a fair amount of time to hone those techniques to be quiet powerful. I also need to give a HUGE HUGE shout out to the wonderfull geeky-jez. Most Sollaven fans will know her for fanfiction works such as Bread Wolf, Bake You and Tranquility as well as her cannon Inquisitor; Isii. Not only did she do JJ's tarot 'The Emperor' that is my poster for Starborn and some illustrations for the story (once I make up my mind) which I will link to for those who want to see them. She has also been a wonderful sounding board for my various questions about how to make Starborn's premise work smoothly and believably that people will want to read it and recommend it to others. Indeed I owe even deciding to post Starborn in the first place to something she said on her tumblr blog when I was unsure if anyone would want to read my story. Starborn is as much your baby as it is mine, Jez. I can't thank you enough, my friend.

[always-the-little-spoon]

Sterek A-Z Challenge: one word prompts

Week 4: D - Dark

Read on AO3

It’s a common misconception that animals can see in the dark. The ability to see, even deep in the woods in the middle of the night depends on available light. The moon being the main source.

Some animals have evolved to cope with certain environmental anomalies. Stiles rambled on about the strange mysterious sea creatures that lived in the pitch black of the ocean's depths at length once. They’d been making homemade pizza in their loft. Or Stiles had been. Derek had been relegated to vegetable chopper.

In the absence of light, anyone, or anything, is blind, even a young beta werewolf. Something Derek knew far too well.

The only source of light in his small prison came when the door opened. The sudden shock of light blinded him, and he was forced to close his eyes and lean away from the source.

But he wasn’t completely blind in a sense - literally - as a familiar scent filled the room.

“No...” Derek whispered as the acrid stench of blood, pain, and fear reached him. A body hit the floor nearby, and he blindly groped along the floor, squinting against the harsh light.

The door snapped closed. The room returned to its original state: pitch black.

Following his nose, Derek found the still body.

“Stiles,” Derek called. “Stiles, can you hear me. Stiles!”

No answer.

If he had been unable to hear the steady heartbeat and shallow breathing himself, Derek may have panicked at the stillness. Stiles was never still. He was a whirlwind of excess energy and excitement.

As gently as possible, Derek lifted Stiles off the cold stone floor of their cell and pulled him into the warmth of his lap. The room was cold. Probably a cellar. Derek hadn’t been anymore conscious when they had thrown him in earlier.

Or yesterday.

That morning?

Time was hard to track. No light meant no cycle. He couldn’t feel the pull of the moon or the warmth of the sun. He cradled Stiles against his body, tucking the young man’s nose into the curve of his neck.

Stiles wasn’t supposed to be here. He was supposed to be safe at home in their apartment. Not here, cold and bleeding in the hands of another pack.

“Damn it, Stiles. Why can’t you just stay out of things,” Derek murmured. He nosed at Stiles temple. It was slick with blood, and Derek whined softly, brushing back the damp hair with a hand before curling his arm around the limp body of his new roommate.

They’d only moved to New York two months ago. The city was neutral territory between several packs, and a haven for omegas and small packs alike. Too many bodies to actively patrol. The very reason he and Laura had settled here after the fire for a few months before claiming a small territory upstate. The three bedroom cabin was still there. Vacant currently. He’d been living there alone until Stiles had called him in May.

The day of graduation, Derek couldn’t have been more proud to watch Stiles walk across that stage and accept his diploma.

Derek leaned back against the stone wall. The cold didn’t bother him, but Stiles was already beginning to shiver in his arms.

“Come on, Stiles. Wake up.” But Stiles’ breathing remained slow and shallow.

Time ticked on. Derek didn’t know how much time had passed when Stiles’ finally began to stir. A soft groan. The twitch of his arm. Body curling further into the only source of warmth.

Stiles’ heart rate sky-rocketed and his breath quickened. Derek felt Stiles body stiffen against him before he suddenly had a lapful of flailing limbs and screeching teenager.

“Get the fuck off of me! Let me go!” Stiles screamed and yelled - some nonsense, a few threats - as he clawed at Derek in a blind panic that Derek understood all too well.

“Stiles! Stiles, it’s me!” Derek said. His arms tightened around Stiles thin frame on instinct, one he easily gave into. He needed to protect Stiles. He needed to protect his pack.

“D-derek?” Stiles was verging on hyperventilation, moments from tipping into a full panic attack.

Placing a hand on Stiles’ chest, Derek lowered his voice to whisper in Stiles’ ear. “You need to breathe. Breathe with me, Stiles. In... and out. Good. Good. Again. In...” Stiles’ chest rose at his command. “And out.”

It took several long minutes of Derek breathing with Stiles to calm the human until his heartbeat returned to its normal erratic staccato. If he hadn’t already been so familiar with Stiles’ irregular heartbeat, he may have been concerned.

Curling a hand around Stiles’ bicep, Derek drew out any pain from what had no doubt been a short-lived fight against his kidnappers. Stiles sagged against him.

“Thanks, big guy,” Stiles sighed. His heart rate spiked for a brief second, hand tightly gripped Derek’s arm, then settled. “I can’t see. Derek, why can’t I see.”

Derek could hear Stiles patting his face in search of a blindfold. “You’re not blind,” he said. He flashed his eyes, letting them glow blue in the dark. Stiles’ hands cupped Derek’s face. They were ice cold.

“Thank god,” Stiles breathed. His hand fell back into his lap, and Stiles shifted against Derek, but made no move to climb out of his lap, but he did lean away from the body heat. “So... wanna tell me why I was jumped by several betas on my way to class?”

“I don’t know,” Derek answered honestly.

“You... y-you don’t know!” Stiles sputtered. “What the hell, man. Who did you piss off? I was walking to campus when suddenly there were four assholes surrounding me, and bam! Here I am!”

“I don’t know!” Derek growled. “And why were you walking? I’ve told you to take a cab!”

“Don’t turn this on me. You’re the dick werewolf that people seem to want to pick a fight with, so why the hell am I here? Fuck. Have you been here all night? When you didn’t come home, I thought you were finally out getting laid. Damn it! What the hell are we going to do, Derek!”

“Stiles, you need to calm down,” Derek said, aware of the sudden jump in Stiles’ heart. He tried to rub Stiles’ back, but the teenager pulled away, though Derek noticed he still hadn’t left his lap. Derek’s physical presence must have offered some level of comfort.

“This is why I left, Derek. This is why I walked away. Columbia and New York. It was supposed to be a fresh start,” Stiles said. The defeat in his voice was like a knife to the chest. “But I��m just being dragged by into all this supernatural nonsense...”

“I’m sorry,” Derek murmured, with absolute sincerity. He didn’t know why they were here, but he was to blame. He always was.

“Not your fault, big guy.” Stiles body trembled with a violent shiver. “Fuck, it’s cold.”

“Come here.” Derek wrapped his arms around Stiles again, trying to draw him down against his chest. “You’re going to freeze.”

The fight only lasted a few seconds before Stiles gave in with a tired sigh. “Fine. But you better not tell anyone.”

Derek snorted. “Who would I tell?”

“Right. Lost my mind for a second there.”

“Shut up, Stiles.”

They didn’t speak much after that. A few short questions wondered aloud, little pointless conversations to distract themselves, and some well-placed and overly familiar bickering.

No one bothered them. No one came to question or torture them. Neither he or Stiles could figure out why they were there, or where they were. When he’d first woken up alone in the stone cell, Derek had waited for his vision to adjust, only to realize it wouldn’t before he mapped out the room by touch. It wasn’t very large. Two metres by two metres, maybe. He could lie down flat if need be.

The trembling had grown worse. Stiles body wouldn’t remain still in his arms, and not in the usual restless energy way. Derek could hear the chattering teeth and slowed heartbeat.

Stiles was slowly freezing to death.

“Here. Sit up,” Derek said, helping Stiles upright enough for Derek to pull off his henley. It was a little ripped and bloody, but it would do.

“W-what? What’s going on,” Stiles mumbled. His speech was a little slurred. “Der?”

“Hold on,” Derek said. “Arms up.”

It took several tries to get Stiles’ arms through the holes and tug the shirt down over his head, but it was an extra layer of warmth. The stone was freezing against Derek’s back, but he pulled Stiles back into his body, curling around him as best he could to keep the fragile human warm.

When Derek had picked Stiles up in Beacon Hills after graduation, the Sheriff had taken him aside. It had been an easy promise to make; to look after Stiles. Stiles was pack. His pack.

“You’re going to be okay,” Derek said.

Stiles huffed against Derek’s neck. “Even I don’t need to be a werewolf to know that’s a lie...” He was quiet for a moment. “They called me a bitch,” he suddenly said.

“What?”

“When they grabbed me,” Stiles clarified, and Derek’s heart stuttered his chest. “They said, grab the bitch. Der... what does that mean?”

Derek swallowed hard, not sure how to tell Stiles what it meant because it was something that wasn’t true. Or possibly was, but wasn’t. Derek wasn’t entirely sure where he stood in the first place.

Clearing his throat, Derek finally answered in a long voice. “Means they think they grabbed my mate.”

Stiles was very still in Derek’s arms, and his heartbeat fluttered. Even through the sleeves of the borrowed henley, his hands were freezing against Derek’s bare chest.

“But I’m not,” Stiles said very slowly.

“I know.”

There was a long pause in the conversation. Derek could almost hear the gears spinning Stiles’ mind as he worked through the implications and logic.

“Then why,” Stiles finally asked.

“You smell like me,” Derek answered very simply, but he knew Stiles wouldn’t be satisfied with that answer. “We live together, away from the pack. I came with you across the country, set up a home. You... wear my clothes...”

“They’re comfortable,” Stiles muttered.

Derek could hear the pout, and he laughed softly, gently nosing along Stiles’ hairline. “I know.”

“So I act like your mate.”

“Yes... and no.” Derek rested his cheek against the top of Stiles’ head. “You’re pack. But I can see where they would be confused.”

“Right. Cause you could definitely do better than a hyperactive spazz like me,” Stiles muttered.

“I would be honoured to have you as a mate,” Derek growled before he even realized what he was saying. He paused before adding a quiet “anyone would.”

“Thanks,” Stiles whispered, so quiet that even Derek’s enhanced hearing barely picked it up. “Me too.”

Derek gently squeezed Stiles. The teenager’s heart rate was worryingly sluggish, and his breathing a little ragged and slow. “Try to rest,” he murmured. “You need to save your energy.”

“M’kay,” Stiles slurred. “Tell me a story.”

Derek smiled into Stiles’ hair. “Sure.”

Derek told Stiles stories from his childhood. It wasn’t an easy topic. The wounds were still raw, even years after the fire, but hearing Stiles quiet chuckles soothed the ache. He told Stiles about the time Laura mixed peroxide into Peter’s conditioner, and his uncle spent the next few months with blond hair because he refused to shave his head.

Derek talked about the lunar bonfires and pack runs, and how his youngest brother Elijah refused to wear clothing until he was seven. Elijah had been nine years younger than him, and human.

There had been a few humans mixed into the Hale pack. His oldest sister Anna who had been three years older than Laura, his brother Elijah, plus Peter’s wife and their two kids - twin boys.

Ashlynn, Peter’s wife, had been five months pregnant with a little girl at the time of the fire. It didn’t excuse Peter’s insanity, but it made it all that more real and understandable when he killed Laura.

Stiles breathing was alarmingly shallow and slow. That’s when Derek realized Stiles was no longer shivering. He was too cold to.

“Stiles,” Derek said. He tried to sit up, muscles protesting as he dragged Stiles upright and tried to rub warm back into the frozen limbs. “Stiles, you need to stay awake.”

“M’tired,” Stiles mumbled, head lolling against Derek’s shoulder.

“I know. I know you are, but you need to stay awake. Come on. Come on, Stiles,” Derek begged. They needed to get out of there, but he knew it was futile. He’d already tried when he first woke up in the cell. Even broke his arm in the process. Resetting it himself had been painful, even if it healed after. “You’re stronger than this, Stiles. Come on. Stay with me.”

“M’just so tir’d.”

Keys rattled in the door, and the ancient lock creaked and groaned. Derek pulled Stiles tight against him as the door swung open. His fangs dropped, and his eyes flashed blue, but he was forced to hid his face when the light blinded him.

“Please,” Derek said. The scent of the werewolf that stepped into the cell triggered something in the back of his mind, but he couldn’t quite place it. “I will do anything you ask, just please help him or he’s going to die.”

“Never thought I’d see the day Derek Hale would be me for help.”

Squinting against the brightness, Derek caught sight of the alpha red eyes glaring down at him, and he protectively curled around Stiles, a growl low in his throat.

“Now, now. Is that anyway to treat an old friend?” the alpha said.

“Alejandro?” Derek said, somewhat astonished. “You’re an alpha...”

“The death of your mate would be unfortunate,” Alejandro said. He crouched down in front of Derek and reached for the weak human, but Derek surged back, dragging Stiles away from the threat. “Tut, tut. If you answer my questions, no harm will come to him. He’s... leverage.”

“What do you want?” Derek snapped. Stiles whined against Derek’s throat.

Alejandro stood up, brushing off his button down and pressed slacks. “Where is your alpha?”

Stiles lifted his head, or tried to. His lips were tinged blue, and his skin sickly pale. “What do you want with Scott?” he asked, far too weak and speech heavily slurred. “Hate to break it to you, dude. But if you have beef with him, Derek is not the one to go through. I mean, I guess you got me, so that’s not too bad, but-”

Alejandro’s alpha roar echoed through the small cell. His fangs dropped, and his eyes flashed red. Derek responded in kind with a flash of his own bright blue eyes and crouched low over Stiles, placing himself between the angry alpha and the foolish human who needed to learn when to shut his mouth.

“Enough of this nonsense. We had a deal, Hale,” Alejandro roared, all pretense of kindness gone. “Where is your alpha? Where is Laura? Or is she that much of a coward that she couldn’t break it off herself.”

Derek stopped breathing. He heard Stiles gasp softly, but he was too caught in his own shock to respond.

When Derek and Laura fled to New York, Alejandro had been the leader of a pack of alphaless omegas, and more importantly, he had been their friend. He looked out for them when they had no one, and protected them while they mourned.

The omegas had been reluctant to accept Laura as their alpha. They didn’t trust her, but they trusted Alejandro. Their courtship had lasted years, but a mateship had been offered, and Laura had accepted.

Laura had only planned a quick trip to Beacon Hills to check on the territory, but she never returned. Derek had followed only to find her...

“Dead.”

It took Derek several seconds to realize it had been Stiles who spoke. He whined softly and pulled the weakened human back into the safety and warmth of his arms. Stiles felt like ice against his bare skin.

“She’s dead,” Stiles repeated.

“I don’t believe you,” Alejandro snarled and advanced, but Derek snarled his own warning in return. “If she was dead, Derek would be alpha. He’s a beta.”

“It’s true,” Derek said. He bowed his head, mourning the loss of his sister. “She was killed for her status.”

“No...”

Stiles shifted, trying to sit up, but his limbs didn’t appear to want to cooperate with him. “I saw her body. Well, the top half...” he said with a sympathetic wince. “Sorry, Der.”

Derek shuddered. The memory of finding his sister's body laid out for him to discover was still too fresh, even three years later. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“It wasn’t yours either,” Stiles whispered back. “But we killed the bastard. I got to throw a fucking molotov cocktail. It was awesome.”

“Yeah,” Derek murmured against Stiles temple. Alejandro wasn’t important anymore. The alpha had already left, the door wide open behind him. Laura may be gone, but he still had Stiles. “Yeah, it was. Let’s get you home.”

“Can we kill the dickhead first?” Stiles asked as Derek scooped him up and carried him out into the light. There was no sight of the other pack. Only their scents lingered.

Derek snorted. Stiles heartbeat was still weak, and his skin ice cold, but he hadn’t lost that terrible sense of humour. “No, but I’ll make you hot chocolate and let you steal my sweater.”

“The one with the thumb-holes?” Stiles sounded far too eager. Derek would never understand his fascination, but he agreed. Stiles could have anything he asked for because Stiles was pack.

Stiles was family.