#either way he belongs on a registry

[kataraavatara]

“back in the day you could say you liked Joffrey and no one would bat an eye” back in the day i don’t think there were swaths of people writing essays about how Joffrey is the rightful heir to the throne and just has mommy and daddy issues and actually isn’t a villain and actually everything he did was justified. nowadays if someone says “i like aegon ii” we have to figure out what KIND of “i like aegon ii” person you are. do you enjoy a funky little evil dude or are you like…a rape apologist.

[swan-of-sunrise]

Taking Care of Business (Chapter Thirty-Eight)

Summary: Bo-Katan and Clan Mudhorn track the Mandalorian mercenaries to Plazir-15, but they are recruited by the planet’s strange rulers to sort out an ongoing issue before they can meet them.

Pairing: Din Djarin X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 5.4k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: Originally, I was gonna write the entirety of the droid investigation into one chapter but by the time I wrote 4k words, I decided to split it up over two chapters instead lol thank you for reading, I hope you all enjoy!

Chapter Thirty-Eight The Malfunction (Previous Chapter)

“There they are.”

Looking up from the console’s buttons, Din’s brows rose in surprise when he caught a glimpse of the Nite Owl’s one-time stolen fleet; it was comprised of several Gozanti-class Assault Carriers, Kom’rk-class fighter transports, fang-class fighters and the Imperial light cruiser that once belonged to Moff Gideon. Seeing the light cruiser that (Y/N) had nearly died on and where they’d been forced to say goodbye to Grogu again sent a shiver down Din’s spine and although he knew that it was under the command of the exiled Mandalorian, he silently vowed never to set foot onto a ship that held such dark memories for his small family. “That’s quite a fleet.”

Bo-Katan continued to fly the Gauntlet across the clear skies of Plazir-15 as she spared him a brief glance over her shoulder. “It took me a long time to assemble it; most of it was captured from the Empire.”

“I knew they looked familiar.” (Y/N) got up from her seat and crossed the starfighter’s cockpit to lean against the console beside Din. “Could come in real handy taking back Mandalore.”

“Axe Woves is their leader now,” Bo-Katan replied with a small sigh. “It’s going to take some convincing to get them to join us.”

Din watched as the captain bit her lip and remained silent, the look of sympathy briefly crossing her beautiful features causing his heart to thrum in his chest. He was constantly amazed by his wife’s ability to empathize with the struggles of others, regardless of the language and culture barriers she’d often times run into; he remembered how kindly she’d treated the Tuskens and the Frog woman, how selflessly she’d defended the people of Freetown and Mos Espa, and how – despite the recent slew of confusing contradictions – she’d eagerly thrown herself into learning all that she could about the Way of the Mandalore. The conflicts and infighting amongst the various factions of Mandalorians was baffling to her, but that didn’t prevent her from spending their week of searching for the stolen fleet commiserating with the woman who already failed to unite her people once before and who was obviously fearful of failing once again.

Searching for any means of easing the nervous tension in the cockpit, Din asked, “I wonder what they’re here for?”

“This planet isn’t on the New Republic Registry, so I’d guess it’s an independent world that hired them for protection.”

(Y/N) cleared her throat and began fiddling with the frayed edge of her fingerless glove. “Can’t imagine Woves will be happy to see you…”

Bo-Katan absentmindedly nodded, clearly lost in her own ruminations ahead of their meeting with her former forces. “Yeah.” Disappointment filled (Y/N)’s eyes and Din placed a gloved hand atop hers for comfort as the Nite Owl continued. “I’ll land outside the fleet’s perimeter; it’s probably best if we go in on foot.”

Before either Din or (Y/N) could reply, a cheerful fanfare played over the starfighter’s communication radio and was accompanied by an equally-pleasant voice. “Welcome to Plazir-15, the Outer Rim’s only remaining direct democracy. You’ve been assigned a docking slip. You will be guided on the assigned path. Engaging automated guidance.”

The Gauntlet suddenly jolted and began flying towards the planet’s domed city, causing (Y/N) to stumble and Din to wrap a steadying arm around her waist as Bo-Katan slapped a gloved hand on the console’s unresponsive buttons. “What happened?”

“They’ve taken control of the ship.” With a huff of annoyance, Bo-Katan flopped back in the pilot’s seat and looked at Grogu seated beside her. “I guess we’re going for a ride.”

Grogu cooed in delight and bobbed his head along to the music still emanating from the radio, causing (Y/N) to giggle and Din to smile beneath his helmet. In no time, the Gauntlet touched down on one of the city’s landing pads and the ramp lowered on its own accord; they bid R5 goodbye and after exchanging wary looks with one another, the four of them walked down the ramp and began crossing the landing pad. “This is…interesting,” Din commented, forcing himself not to reach for his blaster when he caught sight of the Imperial Death Star and astromech droids positioned by the monorail platform.

“Welcome to Plazir-15.” The RA-7 unit gestured towards the occupied track at the top of the raised platform. “Please proceed to your hyperloop pod.”

As they passed by the Imperial droids, (Y/N) shuddered and looked over at Din and Bo-Katan in discomfort. “Why do they have Imperial droids on an independent world?”

“It’s the Outer Rim,” Bo-Katan replied with a shrug as they ascended the platform and stepped into the empty pod. “Your guess is as good as mine.” Din and (Y/N) sat on one end of the pod while Bo-Katan and Grogu’s pram sat opposite them and once the doors slid shut, the Nite Owl addressed the hyperloop’s automation. “Bring us to the bay closest to the Mandalorian fleet.”

“As per Article Nine of the Coruscant Accords, permission must be granted from High Senate for access to self-defense forces in the peacekeeping zone. Do you grant permission to scan your chain code?”

(Y/N) stiffened while Din and Bo-Katan allowed the automation to scan their chain codes and when she made no move to produce hers, Din’s brow furrowed in concern. “Alor’ad? Is everything all right?”

“…Yeah, yeah, it’s just…” The captain trailed off and silently held out her wrist so that the automation could read the chain code emanating from her arm band.

“Din Djarin, Bo-Katan Kryze and Solia Corrik…” Din’s eyes widened in shock and (Y/N) crossed her arms over her chest as she avoided their questioning gazes. “Your presence has been requested by the leadership of the planetary democracy.”

Bo-Katan gritted her teeth in impatience. “I’m afraid we have more pressing matters. Perhaps at a later time-”

“Please do not attempt to leave the vehicle. This is not a request.”

Without warning, the hyperloop pod shot forward and raced along its track. They scrambled to brace themselves and when they finally succeeded, (Y/N) sighed and finally looked over at Din. “Solia Corrik is the name my mother gave me when I was born and when she died, Solia Corrik died with her; I started going by (Y/N) (Y/L/N) when I fled Naboo – it was safer that way, easier to avoid Imperial detection, and it was what she wanted for me – and I’ve avoided having my chain code scanned at every chance I could, but I never had the heart to officially change my name. I’m sorry that I never told you, Din-”

“You have nothing to apologize for, alor’ad.” Din reached over and held one of her hands while the other caressed her cheek. “If you say your name is (Y/N) (Y/L/N), then that’s what I’ll call you. You respected my Creed without question and called me ‘Mando’ until I finally worked up the nerve to tell you my name, and you deserve the same level of respect.”

(Y/N)’s worried expression softened into a grateful smile and after giving the palm of his gloved hand a brief kiss, she took a glance out of the pod and bit her lip as she studied the domed city they sped through. “I’ve never been here before. Have either of you?”

Bo-Katan shook her head and Din removed his hand from the captain’s cheek to rest it on the handle of his blaster. “I haven’t even heard of it. Do you think we’re gonna have to blast our way out of here?”

“We’ll find out,” The Nite Owl replied, shifting in unease and exchanging a look with Grogu as the pod came to a stop and its doors slid open.

The three of them stood and exited the pod, slowly walking down the stark-white hallway while Grogu’s pram drifted along behind them; Din struggled to keep his hands hanging loose at his sides but he pushed through, his curiosity over the strange-looking planet only slightly overshadowing his cautious nature. The doors at the end of the hallway slid open to reveal a grand dining hall decorated with green ferns and woven tapestries, where beings of all shapes and sizes were seated around a sprawling table and enjoying a midday feast while musicians serenaded them with a gentle tune.

“Join us! Come!” A bearded man dressed in an opulent uniform exclaimed from the head of the table and beamed as he waved them over. “It’s a party, come! Everyone, special guests: Mandalorians! I hope you like secretions. Take a sip-sip! Come, please!” As they made their way around the long table, the bearded man sat back down beside a woman donned in an elaborate gown of blue, purple and pink. Din, knowing his wife’s affinity for fashion, glanced over at (Y/N) expecting to find an awed expression on her face, but his brow furrowed in confusion when all he saw was shock. “It’s truly an honor to meet such impressive warriors!”

Din and Bo-Katan sat on the man’s side of the table with Grogu’s pram while (Y/N) sat in the unoccupied seat beside the opulently-dressed woman, who gave them all a warm smile. “Welcome to our humble home. I am the Duchess of Plazir-15 and this is my husband, Captain Bombardier.”

While the Duchess spoke, Din’s eyes flicked over to Captain Bombardier and he pursed his lips in distaste when he spotted the badge pinned onto the front of his uniform. “Let’s address the bantha in the room,” The bearded man sighed and gestured towards the pin. “I was once a facilities planning officer during the war and thanks to the New Republic Amnesty Program, I was able to help rebuild Plazir-15.”

“You were Imperial?”

“He was,” The Duchess confirmed, resting a comforting hand on her husband’s shoulder before continuing. “Plazir suffered greatly under Imperial rule. My husband came here as part of his rehabilitation; he oversaw the rebuilding of this planet on which my family served as nobility since it was originally settled, and…” She held her husband’s hand and gave him a sweet smile. “We fell in love.”

Captain Bombardier chuckled and reverently kissed his wife’s knuckles. “We fell in love. We did fall in love.”

Watching the happy couple shamelessly revel in their romance, Grogu cooed in delight and the Duchess’ brown eyes lit up as she looked up at Din. “Could I perhaps hold the baby? Please?”

“He doesn’t take kindly to strangers…” Din carefully replied but before he could say another word, the child leapt through the air and landed neatly in the Duchess’ lap; while the royal couple laughed in delight and Grogu happily ate the small fish that the Duchess bribed him with, Din sighed in exasperation and sat back in his seat.

“Pardon me if I speak out of turn, Your Majesty, but was your gown designed here on Plazir-15?”

The Duchess gave (Y/N) a smile while she continued to feed Grogu. “The gown was but my petal parasol was imported all the way from Naboo many cycles ago, an anniversary gift from my father for my mother. When I inherited the royal wardrobe, I had my favorite pieces converted into holograms and the originals put into storage so that their beauty would never fade.” The Duchess quirked her brow as she assessed the surprised captain. “Your surname is Corrik, is it not? Any relation to the House of Corrik?”

“My mother was Lomiya Corrik,” (Y/N) replied, her eyes roving across the elaborate parasol while a melancholy smile formed on her lips. “She kept a record of every piece she ever designed, and this was one of her favorites.”

Beneath his helmet, Din couldn’t help but smile for his wife while the Duchess excitedly raved about the House of Corrik, who had nothing but her memories to remind her of her late mother; it must comfort her to know that her mother’s legacy continues to live on through her artistic creations, he thought to himself, ignoring the twinge of guilt as he recalled how her mother’s treasured journal had been lost in the blast that destroyed the Razor Crest so many months ago.

“In fact, Naboo helped to inspire Plazir’s transformation!” The Duchess explained as Din refocused his attention on their conversation. “You see, it was time for our planet to move into a new age. We held direct democratic elections for the first time in our history.”

Captain Bombardier nodded. “We are both royals and elected leaders.”

“And the Mandalorian privateer warships docked in your fields?” Din inquired.

“Oh, we hire them for protection; our charter forbids us from having a military because of my husband’s Imperial past.”

“But because of this, all of our resources go to growth and the people,” The bearded man added and gave (Y/N) a smile. “We also take great pride in preserving our planet’s history.”

Bo-Katan, trying her hardest not to lose patience with the eccentric couple, sat forward in her seat and clasped her gloved hands together. “I’d like to speak to these ‘privateers.’”

Captain Bombardier exchanged a brief glance with the Duchess. “That can be arranged…there is just one condition.”

“What?”

Din rolled his eyes at the not-so-subtle way the bearded man gestured towards the balcony and cheerfully announced, “You really must see the view. Right this way!” The other guests curiously watched them stand and Captain Bombardier waved them off. “We’ll just be a moment! Enjoy your meal, don’t get up! Let’s show our guests the view.”

“We have a problem,” The Duchess lowly explained as they walked towards the balcony overlooking the domed city.

“A droid problem.”

Din’s brow furrowed at the mention of droids. “What kind of ‘droid problem’?”

“Malfunction.”

“A coordinated malfunction-”

“We think.”

(Y/N) frowned in confusion. “What makes you think that?”

“The planet’s Imperial droids were reprogrammed for peace.” The Duchess’ words were tinged with a subtle accusatory tone as she gave her husband a knowing look.

“I can assure you they were completely rehabilitated for peaceful purposes exclusively.”

“We thought.”

“They were, my love, I personally oversaw the program!”

Din interrupted the couple’s light squabbling to ask a clarifying question. “What kind of malfunction?”

“I mean, nothing too serious at first. Unexpected power cycles, deleted task stacks…”

“Then it got worse.”

“Traffic accidents, heavy equipment failures leading to injury-”

“Assault.”

Din stiffened while (Y/N) raised an incredulous brow. “Assault?”

The Duchess nodded and Bo-Katan shifted her weight as she addressed the royal couple standing before them. “Respectfully, what does this have to do with us?”

“Our constables are ill-equipped to confront battle droids-”

“Battle droids?” Din’s heart dropped into his stomach, the only things keeping him from spiraling into the painful memories of his parents’ deaths being the sound of Grogu’s worried coos and the weight of (Y/N)’s hand resting on his bicep.

Captain Bombardier hastily shook his head. “Uh-uh-uh-uh, former battle droids. They’ve been rehabilitated for civic duty.”

“We thought.”

“They were.”

“Obviously not.”

Bo-Katan’s jaw clenched in annoyance. “The Mandalorian garrison outside your city walls can make quick work of your battle droids.”

“That’s just it. Our charter forbids any standing army from entering our city,” The Duchess explained as she gently caressed Grogu’s wrinkled head. “Our constables aren’t even allowed to carry blasters.”

“But you allowed us to be armed.”

“Exactly!” Din and Bo-Katan exchanged a look as Captain Bombardier continued. “The people have voted that we are a pluralistic society. You are Mandalorians; weaponry and armor are intrinsic to your culture, are they not?”

Din nodded. “They are.”

“…You see where we’re going here?”

The Nite Owl smiled despite her obvious exasperation. “You want us to eliminate your droid problem.”

“Exactly!” The Duchess beamed at them. “I knew you would help us!”

“Hold on there, Your Majesty. We didn’t agree to help you-”

“Please, Princess Kryze, Your Grace. This is not intended to be a work of charity.”

Bo-Katan’s nostrils flared as she struggled to keep her emotions in check. “Unlike my brethren outside your city walls, I am no mercenary.”

Captain Bombardier bowed his head in deference. “Apologies if that is the impression I gave. What I intended to convey is that I would hope that this ‘excursion’ would be viewed as an act of diplomacy between our two planets. In fact, Plazir-15 would formally recognize Mandalore as a sovereign system and petition the New Republic to recognize it as such.”

“The mercenary captain, Axe Woves, indicated that he split from you because you had designs on ruling Mandalore once again,” The Duchess added.

“…Those plans have been abandoned.”

The bearded man merely shrugged. “The offer stands nonetheless.”

Pursing her lips, Bo-Katan turned to look at (Y/N) and Din. “What do you think?”

“That having the support of both Nevarro and Plazir-15 will reestablish Mandalore’s political influence throughout the Outer Rim and signal to the New Republic that it deserves to be recognized as a sovereign system,” (Y/N) replied, crossing her arms over her chest as she considered the royal couple’s offer. “Politically, it’s a smart move that will only benefit Mandalore in the long run.”

The Nite Owl, impressed by the captain’s diplomatic answer, turned her attention to Din. “And you?”

“You had me at battle droids.” Her lips twitched as he gave her a small shrug.

“Then it’s settled. The three of us will investigate and eliminate your droid problem.”

The Duchess beamed in happiness and Captain Bombardier clapped his hands. “Thank you, Princess Kryze! There’s just one small thing to address before you begin.”

Bo-Katan’s gloved hands briefly clenched into fists. “Yes?”

“You and Din Djarin are Mandalorians, but Solia Corrik here is unfortunately not; if she will be joining you on your mission, then our charter forbids her from carrying any weapons into the city.”

Flinching at the casual use of her birth-name, (Y/N) nodded and began to reach for her blaster but Din’s hand shot out to stop her. “Alor’ad, wait. I think you should stay here at the palace with the kid.” His wife opened her mouth to protest but Din took a step closer and lowered his voice so that only she could hear. “(Y/N), I lost both of my parents to Separatist battle droids. I don’t wanna lose you and Grogu to them, too.”

(Y/N)’s expression softened in understanding and she nodded as she holstered her blaster and the Duchess spoke up. “Rest assured, your companion and the baby will be well taken care of while you complete your quest.”

“Thank you for extending your hospitality to my family, Your Majesty,” Din replied, bowing his head in respect and reaching forward to pat Grogu’s head. “Be good for our hosts, kid. Bo-Katan and I will be back before you know it.”

The child released a quiet coo and when Din turned back to the captain, she rested a hand on the beskar covering his cheek and gave him a small smile. “K’oyacyi, ner kotep beroya.”

Din’s heart warmed in his chest at his wife’s traditional Mando’a farewell: Come back safely, my brave bounty hunter. He leaned his forehead against hers in a brief Keldabe Kiss and placed his hand atop hers. “Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum, ner cyar’ika alor’ad.” After she gave him one last smile, he forced himself to step back and turn to a pensive-looking Bo-Katan. “Ready to fix a droid problem?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Din and Bo-Katan were instructed by the Duchess to pay the city’s command center a visit so that Commissioner Helgait, the elderly head of security could brief them on the city’s ongoing struggles with their reprogrammed Imperial droids. The command center was filled with rows and rows of monitors displaying live security footage from all across the domed capitol city and from what Din could see, the people of Plazir-15 seemed content with their lives governed by direct democracy, albeit too reliant on their droids. None of them would be in imminent danger if they didn’t rely so heavily on droids to keep the city running for them, he thought to himself, a surge of the old familiar distrust of all droids causing his jaw to tightly clench.

“These droids were all reprogrammed to serve the community from the stockpile of captured Imperial robotics scheduled to be scrapped at Karthon.” Commissioner Helgait sat at his desk and pressed a series of buttons on its surface to pull up several archived security tapes. “The droid’s reprogramming was a complete success…until one day, an isolated event…” A garbage disposal droid was shown erratically flinging a rubbish can’s contents across an alleyway. “Then others. This is just a small collection of malfunctions that our security cameras caught.” The next footage to play depicted a B1 battle droid hurling a woman’s shopping bags, a chauffeur droid speeding through a crowded terminal and intentionally crashing a land-speeder into a wall, and a cook droid in a bustling restaurant attacking frightened patrons with knives.

“Turn them off.”

Commissioner Helgait looked over at Bo-Katan, who was staring transfixed at the monitors before them. “What?”

“Why not turn them all off? Who’s in charge of that?”

“I am,” The elderly man replied with a shrug. “There’s a fail-safe cutoff switch built into the system. However…”

In an incredible show of self-restraint, Din suppressed his frustrated sigh. “What?”

Commissioner Helgait chuckled humorlessly. “The citizens voted against any interruption in droid services. They can’t live without it.”

“And why’s that?” Din asked, already knowing the answer to his own question but allowing the head of security to speak.

“The citizens are no longer required to work and can spend their days engaging in recreation, the arts, and participating in our direct democracy. If we shut down the droids, our citizens wouldn’t know how to survive.” Commissioner Helgait sighed to himself and shook his head. “Our society would collapse.”

Bo-Katan tilted her head in confusion. “Then what do you want from us?”

“To seek out and decommission any remaining rogue droids, until we can fix the problem.”

Exchanging a wary look with Din, the Nite Owl heaved a small sign and nodded. “Give us the list.”

“Well, for that, you’ll have to go to the lower level and speak to the Ugnaughts.”

Din instantly perked up at that. “Ugnaughts?”

Commissioner Helgait nodded. “Ugnaughts.”

After thanking the head of security for his assistance, Din and Bo-Katan stepped into the elevator and traveled down to the city’s lowest level; his past friendship with Kuiil gave him an insight to the Ugnaught’s skills as droidsmiths, recalling how Kuiil had managed to revive and reprogram IG-11 to act as a nurse droid instead of an assassin droid. Shaking off the wave of sadness he experienced whenever he thought about his fallen Ugnaught friend, Din clasped his hands and remarked, “See what happens when you rely on droids?”

Bo-Katan’s brow arched in curiosity. “Are you taking this personally?”

“Just pointing it out.”

“Let’s just finish this so we can be on our way.” The elevator stopped and when its doors slid open, they stepped out into a bustling workshop and watched several Ugnaughts hard at work performing maintenance tasks on decommissioned and reprogrammed Imperial droids. “I am Bo-Katan Kryze. Which one of you is in charge?” The Ugnaught droidsmiths kept their attention on their work, so the Nite Owl forced a patient smile and tried again. “We were sent on behalf of the Duchess and Captain Bombardier to help you with your droid problem. Hello?” Again, none of the Ugnaughts acknowledged her words or their presence in the workshop, and Din huffed a quiet chuckle at Bo-Katan’s growing annoyance as she turned to look at him. “This is going nowhere.”

Instead of answering, Din took a step forward and loudly addressed the workshop. “I am Mandalorian Din Djarin, friend of Ugnaught Kuiil.” The droidsmiths finally looked up from their tasks as he continued. “You will answer our questions and help us with our task. I have spoken.” The Ugnaughts left their work unfinished and gestured for the both of them to join them at one of the workshop’s tables; Bo-Katan shot Din an impressed look as they took their seats and nodded respectfully at the droidsmith who handed her a cup of broth, politely taking a sip while Din spoke. “Thank you for your hospitality and for sharing your table with us. We were engaged to hunt down and eliminate the malfunctioning droids.”

“There are no such droids.”

The workshop was silent until Bo-Katan set her cup of broth down and rested her elbows on the tabletop. “You may not have heard the news down here, but your droids are wreaking havoc in the world above.”

The same Ugnaught smiled wryly. “There is not much of which we are not aware; these halls are the central nervous system of the city. I assure you, the droids are not malfunctioning.”

The Nite Owl blinked in confusion at the Ugnaught’s flippant tone. “Citizens have been harmed by these malfunctioning machines.”

“This is not the case. I have spoken.”

Din bit his lip, wishing that (Y/N) were there to employ her more natural talent for diplomacy; since she wasn’t, though, he took a deep breath and followed his wife’s example. “We’re not in any way suggesting that your work is to blame. The stories of Ugnaughts’ skill with smithing droids are legendary. We know that Ugnaughts are considered the hardest working species in the galaxy and we, like you, have been engaged with a task to perform. We will investigate the dangerous incidents, but we would appreciate your help.”

After considering his words, the lead droidsmith made a gesture towards his comrade and when he handed him a holo-disc, the lead droidsmith placed it in Din’s open hand. “Here are the locations of the droids you seek.”

“Thank you.” Din bowed his head in respect. “We are in your debt. I have spoken.”

The Ugnaughts nodded and watched them walk across the workshop, where they entered the elevator and traveled back up to the highest levels; neither of them spoke until they were seated in the hyperloop pod, looking out at the darkened night sky and admiring the twinkling lights of the domed city as they sped by. “What was that back there?”

“I’ve spent time with Ugnaughts.” Din shrugged and sat back in his seat. “There’s a particular way to communicate with them; accusing their work of malfunctioning is an insult.” He looked down at the holo-disc and scanned the Aurebesh printed across its surface. “Now, they’ve indicated that there’s a likelihood that the next event will be at the loading docks.”

Bo-Katan hummed in interest. “How sure are they?”

“Hard to tell, Ugnaughts always seem sure of themselves.”

The Nite Owl chuckled. “Well, it’s the only lead we’ve got so we might as well have a look around.” They fell into a comfortable silence and after a short while, their pod slowed to a stop at a bay overlooking the crowded loading docks. Exchanging a look, they exited the pod and made their way down a series of staircases, and a chill went down Din’s spine at the sight before them; B-2 battle droids, the same ones responsible for his parents’ deaths, were carrying cargo boxes to and from various ships and transport speeders, and their labor was overseen by several B-1 series battle droids. Although Din was relieved that (Y/N) and Grogu were safe in the palace, he couldn’t help but long for their comforting presence as he struggled to keep the memories of that terrible day at bay. “I haven’t seen battle droids since the Clone Wars.”

Din gritted his teeth. “I have.”

“Any of ‘em look suspicious?”

“They all look suspicious.”

Bo-Katan didn’t reply, his cryptic words hanging untouched in the air while they stepped down onto the dock and approached the nearest droid foreman. “Halt. This is a restricted area. You are to vacate immediately.”

The Nite Owl gave the stern droid a polite smile. “We have a few questions.”

“Show me your identification, please.”

“We’re here on behalf of the Duchess to investigate the droid malfunctions.”

“Yes, I saw the reports.” While Bo-Katan and the droid foreman talked, Din strayed off to where the battle droids marched in a single-file line and studied their imposing forms as they passed him by; he waved a gloved hand in front of one’s face and saw no reaction, but he merely repeated the gesture with the next droid in line. “Rest assured, I’ve had the entire line of loaders undergo maintenance protocols as a safety measure. The, uh, certification is on file. I wouldn’t do that if I were you!”  

Din glanced over his shoulder at the droid foreman, unperturbed by its warning shout. “Why’s that?”

“Well, as a precaution,” The droid foreman carefully explained. “Their base function was warfare.”

“I thought they were just checked out.”

“They were-” Without waiting for the droid’s full reply, Din gave the next battle droid in line a hard kick; predictably, it merely staggered a little before returning to its place in line and carrying its cargo box to a nearby ship. “Uh, what are you doing?!”

“Then this shouldn’t faze them,” Din shrugged before kicking the next battle droid that passed them by, taking some pleasure in his rash and potentially dangerous experiment.

“Uh, sir? Excuse me! Sir!”

The next battle droid in line immediately stumbled when Din’s boot connected with its leg and dropped its cargo box but after it picked itself up, it suddenly back-handed Din across the dock and took off running. Groaning in pain, Din scrambled to his feet while Bo-Katan fired her blaster at the fleeing battle droid and sprinted after it, quickening his pace once he realized that they were dangerously close to the city streets; he could hear Bo-Katan running behind him as the battle droid knocked over a stack of rubbish and while he jumped over the makeshift obstacle, the Nite Owl propelled herself into the air to avoid the scattered mess. The alleyway opened up into a crowded street and frightened citizens screamed as the battle droid barreled through them, and Din and Bo-Katan were forced to shove their way after it.

Illuminated by the colorful neon lights of the various shopfronts, the imposing battle droid stopped to pick up a cargo box and throw it at them; Bo-Katan activated her jetpack to fly beneath the cargo box while Din dropped to his knees and slid on the smooth stone that paved the street. His body ached in protest but he pushed on, racing to catch up with Bo-Katan as she pursued the battle droid down another alleyway; the moment they emerged from the alley and stepped onto another street, they were forced to drop to the ground to avoid a power unit hurtling straight towards them, which exploded in a ball of fire as they scrambled to their feet and ran after the fleeing droid.

“Keep going!” Din shouted to Bo-Katan before peeling off and sprinting down the less-crowded adjacent alleyway; the battle droid passed the next opening before Din could reach it, forcing him to run into a cantina to continue his pursuit. Patrons shrieked in fright and darted out of his way as he charged through the cantina and when he caught sight of the nearest window, he seized the opportunity and dove straight through it; he tackled the battle droid and they landed on the street in a flurry of shattered glass, and he scrambled to draw his blaster as the battle droid jumped to its feet. But before it could attack, several blaster shots rang through the air and the destroyed droid collapsed onto the street to reveal Bo-Katan holstering her weapons.

“Are you all right?” The Nite Owl asked as she crossed the street and helped Din stand; when he gave her a breathless nod, her shoulders relaxed and they watched four constable droids surround them and the lifeless battle droid and project holographic crime scene barriers to keep any curious civilians away.

“This is a crime scene. Thank you for standing back. This is a crime scene. Thank you for standing back. This is a crime scene. Thank you for standing back.”

They both looked down at the battle droid’s sparking remains and Bo-Katan crouched to retrieve a rectangular object fastened at its waist. “I found a spark pad.”

Din’s brow furrowed beneath his helmet. “What’s it say?”

“‘The Resistor.’”

“Sounds like a droid bar.”

When Bo-Katan stood, she flipped the spark pad over and arched a brow before showing him the Aurebesh printing. “And there’s an address.”

The Nite Owl started down the street and with an exasperated sigh, Din ignored his aching muscles and followed after her. It was going to be a long, long night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Mando-a Translations:

Alor’ad-Captain K’oyacyi, ner kotep beroya-Come back safely, my brave bounty hunter Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum, ner cyar’ika alor’ad-I love you, my darling captain

A/N: Like I said last week, we’re having work done in the house and it’s been difficult finding time to write, but I’ll hopefully have the next chapter up on time! Thank you all so much for reading and commenting! Oh, and I’ve created a Spotify playlist of all my favorite music from the world of Star Wars, so if you’re interested in checking it out the link is down below!

Spotify Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2KuSKJhVOPPvxdJ9YHeo4M?si=2977ff31bf0c4bdd

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Taking Care of Business Masterlist

Tagging: @remmysbounty​​​​​​ @sinon36​​​​​​ @seninjakitey​​​​​​ @thatonedindjarinfan​​​​​​ @ginger-swag-rapunzel​​​​​​ @mostclevermiss​​​​​​ @momc95​​​​​​ @welcometothepedroverse​​​​​​ @sarahjkl82-blog​​​​​​ @elinedjarin​​​​​​ @itsnottilly​​​​​​ @crowleysqueenofhell​​​​​​  @goldielocks2004 @wondergal2001​​​​​​ @groovy-lady​​​​​​ @impala1967666​​​​​​ @fluffy-canada-pancakes​​​​​​ @icee228​​​​​​​ @siimiasoi​​​​

[sunshine-zenith]

Aight, I’m invested I guess. Here’s my Far Fetched Probably Inaccurate More Speculation Than A Theory theory for Wish: Magnifico isn’t completely human or a shooting star like the Star we see — he’s either a manifestation of a wish Amaya made or Amaya once used a wish to save his life

Magnifico specifically says “it’s genetic, I got these genes from outer space!” about himself, which is very specific wording — either he’s completely from space, or magic from space warped his genes. He also has a magic book and I can’t think of a reason he would if magic is innate to his very being, down to a genetic level — maybe it belongs to his Not Innately Magic wife?

Amaya is a unique character in Disney canon in that she’s the Major Big Bad’s spouse — most classic Disney villains in their major animated movies are single or widows, while Amaya is very much alive and well. So she must be important, otherwise what’s the point of her character? Marketing also had super downplayed her, which tells me she has a major role in the story that they don’t want to give away

Amaya’s few lines in the trailer focus on Magnifico (surprise surprise, they have two minutes tops to market this thing and a focus on the hero and villain takes priority over showing rounded out characterization). Still, she seems big on praising him in a similar way he praises himself — calling him handsome and seeming impressed at what she thinks is his work. Yes, there’s being a supportive significant other, but there’s a strange vibe to her words, like she has a personal investment in his achievements beyond just being married to him. I also saw her giving Magnifico concerned/protective looks, like she’s specifically worried about his well-being. Idk I feel like someone finding a shooting star and not sharing it isn’t necessarily worth giving “who’s messing with my hubby” death glares — maybe she’s worried about this shooting star undoing the wish she used for him

She’s noted to be his sounding board/the person who keeps him in line in marketing, so she must know what he’s up to and helping him hide it from the people of Rosas

Magnifico is cocky and self obsessed, but I get the impression that this isn’t the reason he grants so few wishes. He gets super serious and even solemn when talking to Asha about it. He’s kinda a dick where his kingdom is concerned, but he takes wishes seriously. He genuinely doesn’t seem to be holding back granting wishes out of selfishness, because he does grant quite a few — fourteen in a year might be just a drop in the ocean, but that’s still a solid amount. Imagine fourteen people going viral during an internet challenge, or fourteen people on an organ registry getting transplants, or fourteen people getting their degrees, etc, etc. That’s genuinely not a nothing amount of people! Maybe being alive due to wish magic gives him a different perspective on it and what he deems necessary vs unnecessary (and whether or not he’s a hypocrite would make for a compelling character dimension)

Listen this isn’t “evidence,” I just want Amaya to have autonomy in this story, and the only other ways are if she’s a Plot Twist Villain working with/above Magnifico (badass, but I’m pretty sure this was specifically scrapped by the writers early on in the process) or if she hits him with a stack of divorce papers (iconic behavior, but imagine a theater full of five year olds with complicated family dynamics watching this — I don’t see them celebrating with the characters on screen like they might’ve when, say, Anna decked Hans in the face). Her specifically being the reason Magnifico exists and the complicated feelings all around that would result from this are amazing to imagine, plus it can go with both Good!Amaya or Evil!Amaya

Idk maybe Amaya had a cross between Aladdin and Encanto moment — she consciously or unconsciously wished for a handsome king to save her from whatever and since a king needs a kingdom Rosas was created. Or Amaya stumbled across a dying boy who wanted to create his own kingdom and made a wish for him to survive, with that wish giving him powers in the process

[bishiglomper]

I need to rant

But omfg. The niece. The niece is going to finally drive us off the deep end.

She wants to keep the baby if it belongs to current, 3 week old boyfriend.

He's got priors, went to jail for something drug related I think. And he's on the registry. Which we dont even get to know the situation because niece refuses to ask.

Now so far as a person, I dont have any bad feelings about him. He's nice and polite, he can function, he can read, unlike her fiance.. He says he can cook. Has expressed sentiments like getting niece new shoes because hers are falling apart. No sign of anger issues yet like the last 2. I think she said hes got like 2 kids out there

And i dont know what color flag this is, but he once told the niece he chopped off his beloved hair to see her reaction. He wanted her to blow up but she was just like "its your body." Then she reiterated that she expected the same respect. Like if she got a piercing he may disagree with. Shes still gonna do it.

Who knows where pregnancy stands on that line.

Oh and by the way, she still hasnt even said "i love you" back yet. But she'll have his child??

But this bitch is in no fucking means ready for a child.

She's a good caretaker, I would trust her to babysit for a few hours just fine but thats it.

For one, she neglected her rats to death.

She told me with no shame that she absolutely doesnt touch a litterbox, and that she starved her cat.

The woman doesnt even take care of herself. She barely eats and she keeps losing weight. Shes like 5"2 and in childrens jeans. And even though she kept passing out and was told ahe has super low B12, she refused too take suppliments. Even if i handed them directly to her.

If that keeps up shes just going to end up having a miscarriage or a premie with medical problems.

And i dont know what smoking weed during pregnancy does. But its worth looking into.

She does have her own apartment, but does she stay there? No. Only when she has someone over to do things together.

My sister and her son already sleep on the floor in the living room. Niece sleeps on the chaise

You think we have room to help raise a baby, even if we wanted to? Hell to the fuckin no.

Speaking if which. I can already see the dynamic that will be

She'll want us to watch the baby while she continues to work at applebees, where she'll be stuck forever now instead of getting back to college eventually. But she'll have strong weird opinions on how shes going to raise her child.

i just know shes going to be like her bff and teach her toddler to say "mommys a bitch!"

Because i was thinking if there were a smaller child around we could probably get nephew to cut it out. But nah, she would encourage it because its funny.

By the way, we're hiding this from the nephew. It was almost ww3. Sissy doesnt want him to know. And niece is offended because its her brother, he can understsnd the concept of abortion and ahw doesnt like to keep things from him.

Also not telling the aunt. Niece doesn't give a fuck and may do so out of spite

We still havent recovered that relationship enough to have dinner together. And aunt said something like "since (mom) isn't saving your souls, I'm going to have to do it"

So if she finds out, its just going to get really, really annoying. And drive more wedge between us all.

Niece asked her mom if she was gonna be mad at her if she kept it. Sissy told me she was mad either way. There will be no winning.

My mother and sister are being way super gentle and calm about it all to her. She does not deserve it. She needs to sit there like an adult and listen to our concerns before she makes a decision just because it's current boyfriend's DNA in there. She never wanted her own children. And if she wants to suddenly play adult, she needs to make some adult fucking decisions.

[prue84]

Star Trek/Star Wars: USS Republic seal

Fandom: Star Wars (Prequels Trilogy) AU / Star Trek (reboot) Series: Fandoms in Trek AUs [masterpost] Companion piece: USS Republic enamel coin Crew manifest: (WIP)

SF:\Starfleet\Starships\USS Republic>NCC_1999>_

“To Bring Peace and Prosperity”

Ship’s Name: U.S.S. Republic Ship’s Registry: NCC-1999 Ship’s Class: Constitution Class Ship’s Type: Heavy Cruiser Status: _loading… Crew complement: _loading… Crew manifest: _loading error…

About the starship The USS Republic (registry number NCC-1371) is TOS-canon: it's the ship where Kirk serve with Ben Finney. However, its status by 2267 (Court Martial) is unclear. Also, its belonging to the Costitution-class is uncertain and not canon. We only know that Jim served on it in 2254, at the start of his career (when he likely were still a cadet). The Kelvin Timeline established the Enterprise's launch in 2258 instead of the 2240s of the main timeline (the specific date, 2245, was made canon only with Discovery, but this year was already referenced in production material from Enterprise). In the comics they partially tried to explain this difference with the existence of a previous Enterprise, commanded by Robert April and lost during a mission (a plot I'm not much fond of). Anyway. If the Enterprise in this timeline could be launched 13 years later, I guess the Republic could be younger as well. Or. There could be a Republic, where AOS!Kirk served for a round as a cadet, and a newer Republic, a Constitution-class that was given the name of the vessel that had been just retired/turned into training ship (can the fleet keep two working ships with the same name or they need to retire one before assign the same name to another?). I decided for this option, mostly because I want to keep my hands free: I like to consider these Fandom Crews canon in my own AOS, so I wouldn't want Jim to have to serve as a cadet under captain Palpatine, lol - besides, I want him to be "Constition-class-virgin" when he gets on the Enterprise: the Enterprise is his one and only Constitution-class. Also, this way I can pick the registry number. Speaking of which. The number is the year The Phantom Menace was released, and the first time we saw on screen the Republic. Does the 1999 makes sense, given the Enterprise's 1701? No. But canon registry numbers for Constitution-class don't make sense either, going from 1664 of the Excalibur to the >1701 of the Constitution referenced in the movies.

About the motto "Together we shall bring peace and prosperity to the Republic" is a quote from The Phantom Menace, when Palpatine - just elected Chancellor - reassures Amidala. I decided to pick this quote and turn it into the infinite a la "To Boldy Go" of the Enterprise. (Confession: I actually didn't find anything else).

Notes I have the crew manifest on the works since 2020. Hopefully I'll complete the graphics sometime.

———————————————————————————————

Behind the seal The red comes from the Republic flag as seen in the fifth season of in Clone Wars, in a shot of the Republic military headquarters on Coruscant: the flag features the emblem on a field of a specific shade of red. In the comics the flag appeared in the white/black/red palette similar to the one later used for the Galactic Empire, but I elected to use the one from Clone Wars as it should be more canon, I guess? Actually, I didn't want the redundancy. The logo itself is the one used in Clone Wars, where the six clogs are shorter than the classic version used in comics.

Tec stuffs (aka Behind The Manip) The seal was done in April, but only in late August, while on a roll, made the coin version. It took me a while to make it work and still I'm not completely satisfied but, whatever.

———————————————————————————————

Crossposted Livejournal: prue84.livejournal.com/90678.html Dreamwidth: prue84.dreamwidth.org/82672.html Deviantart: deviantart.com/prue84/art/Star-Trek-Star-Wars-Prequels-USS-Republic-seal-932248731

[bestcourtmarriage]

What To Do If Parents Are Against Love Marriage With Muslim Girl

India has one of the world's oldest civilizations. And one of the key reasons India has been able to maintain its identity for so long is due to the country's tight adherence to a few very basic laws. We have rules that cover everything from schooling to how to live after marriage. One of the most significant challenges in our culture is marriage, which is understandable.

In some nations, individuals can legally wed without their parents' consent. If you reside in such a country, you may be familiar with the term "Court Marriage." When a couple marries in court, a judge performs the ceremony rather than a priest. Therefore, various registered marriage laws and restrictions have been established in India to prevent youngsters from being exploited.

Religious Identity

In India, love marriage is popular for couples looking to strengthen their family connections. Parents, social watchdogs, and neighborhood community members believe that choosing families from within the religion will help us keep the religious identity and build the social fabric. Thus, every love union involving a person and family from a different religion poses a risk to that religion. Any discussions you have with your parents must focus on the fact that your wife, who belongs to a different religion, will never insult or hurt your religious beliefs or attempt to forcibly "convert" you to their way of life or religion.

Ways to Do Court Marriage if Parents are against Love Marriage

There are several ways to conduct court marriages without the consent of the parents, either by visiting a lawyer's office or using online services.

Through Online Services

Many websites, including Lead India, provide court marriage services. It just needs paperwork filled out and some money sent. You will receive a confirmation email as soon as you submit the application form. After that, the couple must bring the printed paperwork to the court.

Through Lawyer’s Office

One must schedule an appointment in advance if one decides to visit a lawyer's office. He will question you about your marital status during the appointment. If the couple requests it, he will also provide you with a copy of the report along with the necessary documents. The lawyer will then assist you in completing the forms and returning them to his office. He will handle everything after that.

Steps to be followed:

Get your partner to certify in writing that they have no issues getting married. Both the magistrate and the registrar must witness the signing of this affidavit.

A marriage certificate must be obtained from the registrar's office in the area. To apply, please fill out the form and mail it to the registrar's office. Typically, it takes 3–4 weeks to get a response.

When you obtain the registry office's response, you must visit the court to request permission to conduct the ceremony. This service costs Rs. 100 per day.

You must present the permission slip and the application form to the registrar's office after gaining permission from the court.

When you submit your application at the registrar's office, the marriage officer will let you know when the hearing is next set.

You must attend court on the scheduled hearing day with the required documents. If there aren't any objections, the marriage will be done as quickly as possible.

A petition must be submitted to the family court following your marriage. You need to provide evidence that you've been living together for more than two years.

After presenting all of the evidence, the judge will finally render his decision and issue his order.

The couple must obtain the judgment, and it must be kept secure.

After receiving the judgment, you must pay the court's marriage registration expenses of 500 rupees.

You must make sure you don't break the law again after paying the fine.

Yet, the law assists you if you or your spouse get any death threats. Although it has become acceptable in society, honor killing is still illegal. Thus, getting the right legal counsel will help you escape any unpleasant situations. Please ask your lawyer specifically how you can battle societal injustices and what steps you can take.

You and your parents have a special relationship. Yet the relationship you have with your life partner is just as important. And if you feel the need, any skilled lawyer will assist you in successfully balancing the two. If you want assistance for court marriage in case your parents are against your marriage in Gurgaon, then court marriage lawyers in Gurgaon can be hired, and if you want assistance for court marriage in case your parents are against your marriage in Ghaziabad, then court marriage lawyers in ghaziabad can be hired. Similarly, a court marriage advocate in Mumbai can be hired for the same situation.

At Lead India, you can talk to a lawyer . You can obtain free legal advice as well as ask a legal question online to lawyers at Lead India.

SOURCE:-

Visit us: https://www.leadindia.law

Call Us: +91–8800788535

Email: care@leadindia.law

YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/c/LeadIndiaLawAssociates

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/leadindialaw

LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/company/76353439

Twitter: https://twitter.com/leadindialaw

Pinterest: https://in.pinterest.com/lawleadindia

Instagram:https://www.instagram.com/leadindialawofficial

court marriage advocate in Mumbai, court marriage lawyers in Gurgaon, court marriage lawyers in ghaziabad.

[pi-cat000]

BNHA: Kakashi dimension hops crossover (2)

Summary: Kakashi gets dumbed into the My Hero Academia universe through random plot devise.

Characters:  Kakashi Hatake

Fandoms: My Hero Academia and Naruto

WARNINGS: Mentions of violence/injury

... PREV / NEXT

...

Life in his hospital bed passes slowly while he waits for his chakra to replenish. Always a sluggish process for Kakashi. With nothing to do, nowhere to go and a significant lack of motivation to find either, there is a lot of time to think. Too much time. With what was shaping up to be the fourth great shinobi war, there was no time for reflection or resting. To suddenly have this much downtime thrust upon him is throwing him through a loop. And he doesn’t even have his periodic trips to the memorial as a distraction. If only Sakura could see him now, resting and recuperating like a good injured shinobi.

Doctor Wada, the ever-attentive physician, returns a few more times to ask more questions and offer more reassurances. He seems set on his theory that Kakashi’s yet to be properly identified quirk was the cause of his memory problems. Kakashi runs through a sweet of memory and vision tests. A baseline for later testing when his eye is healed he is told.

“The police have a few questions regarding your situation. With your permission, they would like to conduct an interview,” says Wada on Kakashi’s third day of being officially awake, “Of course, as your doctor, I have the final say in the matter so if you would rather wait just say the word.”

Kakashi gives another bland smile, “Ah, you are too kind.” Police…as in, an authority the dealt with civilian conflict? “I think I’ll answer their questions. Wouldn’t want to stall an investigation.”

He had been wondering when or if he would be investigated. How similar would it be to Kohoha’s internal police force?

“Humph. If you think you’re ready for it.”

He maintains his smile. It was as good an opportunity as any to continue gathering information with the bonus of breaking up the monotony of waiting in a hospital bed for his injuries to heal. Doctor Wada spends the rest of the check-up muttering about pushy police officers and how underappreciated his medical opinion was.

..

The two men that come to question him are wearing matching uniforms which are very telling of the sort of organisation they belong to. White and dark blue. Not made to camouflage or reinforce. Restrictive seaming around the arms, preventing any extreme movement. Their shoes are sturdy but inflexible with heavy soles. Manurable but not designed for any excessive combat. Not a uniform you would give a force intended to physically subdue threats. Whereas Konoha’s police force was comprised mainly of genin and chunin, these men were closer to civilians in pure physical ability. Ah, but he is beginning to suspect that this was the norm here. The people here were softer in a way that was hard to define. 

Kakashi watches them approach, seated upright in his bed, hands resting loose in his lap, aiming it create an impression harmlessness. One good thing to have come from agreeing to this interview was getting his own private hospital room. Now there was no one around to raise an alarm if something went wrong and he was forced to act.

“Good morning,” The older one of the two starts, politely dipping his head, “Kakashi was it?”

“Hmm,” he smiles, “Morning.” There is a pause like they are waiting for him to give his last name. He doesn’t.  

“Well,” The man clears his throat, “I am officer Takata Toyokazu, currently in charge of investigating the circumstances surrounding the assault on your person.” An ID card, very similar to Konoha’s own ID cards is presented, “This is my partner. We’re from Hosu’s Central Police and we have a few questions if you don’t mind answering them for us.”

“Ah,” Kakashi eyes the ID, lamenting the fact that his sharingan is covered under a swatch of bandages and thus inaccessible without obvious movement, “I am afraid my memory just isn’t all there. Apologies in advance if my responses are lacking.”

He lets a little humour leak into his tone. It was time to do a little prodding and gauged how this place's ‘police’ conducted their investigations.

“Yes. We were informed about your memory problems.” The two share an obvious glance and there is a definite note of scepticism there. “Nevertheless, any information would be appreciated.”

“Of course.”  He easily agrees, shrugging, projecting an air of casual nonchalance.

Takata blinks “Right,” and Kakashi can practically see his brain stalling, “Well, you were found on the corner of First and Eleventh street in Hosu’s Central Business District. Would you say this is accurate?”

Kakashi thinks for an exaggerated moment, “I do remember a lot of people. I think someone called for help?”

“You were picked up in an ambulance yes. Do you remember what happened before that?”

“Hmm, I was attacked…there were a lot of trees.” He nods like he has just delivered a useful bit of intel.

“Trees?” Is the deadpan response.

“You know…tall plants with leaves and a….”

“We know what trees are. So, you were in a place with a lot of trees before you were in Hosu’s business district.”

“Probably.”

“A park maybe? There are a few around Hosu. Do remember anything else. Distinctive landmarks?”

“Ah,” he waits for a beat, “No.”

Kakashi is the subject of a disbelieving squint. “No names. Streets. Nearby locations?”

“Nope. All gone.” He says cheerfully and Takata’s brow twitches into an irritated frown.

“You were admitted with multiple stab wounds. Do you remember how you got them?”

He shrugs, “A knife probably.”

“Well, do you remember anything about who was holding the knife?”

“OH!” The two men startle at this sudden exclamation, “It was a man.”

There are a few seconds of silence. “What did the man look like?”

“I don’t remember that bit.”

This time he gets a very obvious frown. Apparently, realising that the current line of questioning is getting them nowhere, the officer motions to his partner and is handed a large envelope. After some shuffling around, a paper file is produced and flipped upright in Kakashi’s direction. It is a photograph of kunai, shuriken, senbon, razor wire and assortment of other weaponry he carried around on his person. He had wondered what the hospital had done with his stuff.

“These are the weapons found on your person when you were admitted to hospital. All confiscated. It’s illegal to carry these sorts of thrown weapons and knives in Japan.”

He scans the photo with interest. The image has his weaponry all laid out in neat lines.

“Really?” He is not even faking his curiosity this time. No one carried around any weapons at all? That wasn’t just a trend limited to the hospital? 

“Yes.” Comes the short response, “what were you using them for.”

“Oh, I don’t remember,” he says gleefully, “How scary.” And gets another round of scowls. After doggedly refusing to give more than vague answers and misdirection, the two increasingly frustrated men prepare to leave.

“If you do remember anything, please call.” A small paper card displaying a string of numbers is presented to him. “You’ll have to come down to the station and give an official statement once the hospital clears you as well so don’t forget. We’ll  get in contact if any arrests are made regarding the perpetrator.”

Kakashi knows enough about investigations to recognise that one, the two standing next to his bed were searching for some specific information and had found Kakashi’s responses lacking, and two, they had no idea who Kakashi was and knew even less about how he might have gotten here.

In the end, they just leave. No threats. No mind games. No attempts to arrest or move him to a secure location for further questioning. Nothing. Kakashi follows after the pair, pausing behind his door to listen to the two talk just outside his room. Officer Takata is obviously angry going of his slightly uneven breathing.

“That was a waste of time,” he grumbles.

“Do you think he was lying?”

“Oh, that smiley bastard definitely knows something more than he is letting on. Tch. Memory problems my ass…”

The is a pause before the younger man asks, “still think it’s connected to that Hero Killer sighting from a few days ago?”

“If he is telling the truth then no. The stabbing lines up with the Hero Killer’s MO but the target is all wrong. There is no Kakaski with a ‘sharingan’ quirk listed on the Registry or as any Hero, Sidekick or Hero agency employee. If he did have a run-in with the Hero Killer, it wasn’t targeted. Probably annoyed the guy into stabbing him if anything.”

There is the sound of footsteps as the two men begin to retreat down the hall.

“A dead-end then.”

“Yeah, looks like it.”

“What a shame. I thought for sure, what with the extent of the injuries, that this was a Hero Killer case. Perhaps it was another Villain? Or a vigilante maybe?”

“Who though? Hosu doesn’t have any active Vigilantes or big-name Villains. Not ones who go around stabbing people to that extent. You saw the hospital report. The man was seconds away from bleeding out and that head wound was obviously aimed at disabling his quirk.”

“Tch. Without any leads, we have nothing to go on. And if Kakashi is a Villain or criminal himself, there’s no evidence and nothing we can pin him with other than a fine for carrying banned weaponry.”

The voices grow fainter as the two walk further away from his room. They seemed suspicious but not overly concerned with Kakashi’s lies so it is not a huge surprise that nothing came of the interview. Despite their obvious irritation, their response had been ones of mild annoyance and moderate distrust. If either of them had had a kekkei genkai it hadn’t been used. Perhaps, their abilities weren’t suited to interrogation. Kakashi had been obtuse enough that surely, they would have been tempted if it were a possibility. It does conform to a general trend in which people underestimate his threat level, treating him  like a civilian. It was probably for the best.

Kakashi returns to his bed and stares at the paper card with the numbers. Obviously, they expected him to know what to do with it. Something to do with communication. Probably related to the small plastic devices nearly everyone in the building carried and spoke into on occasion. A radio of some sort. He had seen a few with numbers running across them. 

From the exchange, he has a few more points to consider and mull over. Villain. Hero. Vigilante. He knows these terms, has heard people in his ward mention them before and knows they are important in some way.

…

Having a new room meant he needed to relearn everyone’s schedules.  While doing so, he finally pinpoints why the people here feel so off. They lacked a level of…weariness…vigilance…that was both hard to describe and hard to notice until it wasn’t there anymore. Kakashi eyes the young nurse as she enters his room yawning, fixing her hair up as she walks, talking over her shoulder at someone behind her.

He had always thought the civilians of Kohoha lived free from most trouble. Not completely relaxed but still having a calm enough life. Well, calm when the village wasn’t being invaded. Now, he is revaluating that opinion.  When compared with these people, Kohoha civilians were stiff, suspicious, almost paranoid. Konoha’s people had hardiness to them, a useful trait when living in a Hidden-Village. They were especially wearily when it came to interacting with shinobi no matter how banally and harmless the shinobi acted. It was an attitude to be expected when there was a very real chance of deadly injury should the shinobi be unfriendly or unstable. A very real possibility with all the war and ever-present threat of enemy invasion and chakra monster attacks.  

Or maybe that was just his own experience as he never really interacted with many civilians and he his reputation wasn’t great.

“Hello Kakashi, how are you this evening,” The nurse greets him with a relaxed grin. He gives his bland smile and watches as she checks the various medical apparatus around Kakashi’s bed.

“I talked to the ward supervisor about your television. It should be working now.”

“Is it?”

Kakashi knows what a television is…they had a few of them in T&I, used for surveillance, and for a few more for monitoring remote training grounds like 44’s Forest of Death.

“Here is the remote. There are quite a lot of channels so now you’ll have something to keep you entertained.” He stares at the metallic rectangle object. He thinks that there might be a cultural difference between his understanding of a television and the nurse’s because watching an interrogation was never something he found particularly entertaining.

“Maybe it will help jog your memory as well.” The nurse gives him an encouraging smile before returning to her work.

Kakashi examines the object, bemused, “Ah, thank you Ms.”

“My name is Iori Ie I handle this ward on weekday evenings. I’ll be happy to answer any other questions if you have any. Anything to make this transition process easier.” She is sincere in her next assurance, “Just you wait, by the time your injuries are healed, we’ll have you right back up to speed.”

Television is…interesting and somewhat baffling. It’s not that Kakashi hasn’t seen examples of this sort of technology before now, it is just the availability and use he finds strange. Whereas a sensible village might hoard any new technology of its own use, here it is distributed and shared without limit. There was one of these things in every patent’s room! The same went for the information it communicated. Information so undervalued there was almost too much of it. Kakashi gives up trying to make sense of anything a few days into gaining access to the television and its hundreds of ‘channels,’ pumping out a constant stream of information. Some of it was obviously fictional, movies, entertainment, but most of the time it was hard to tell if what he was looking at was staged or if he was misreading a cultural difference. There were ‘channels’ devoted to daily status updates, delivering ‘news’ on everything from the weather, local politics, villain attacks, general crime and everything in between.

One thing he does confirm is that he is nowhere near any hidden villages or even on the continent, maybe not even in the correct world. This place was separate. This village or city as it was called, consisted of millions in a country of billions. There were more people in ‘Hosu’ than there were in the whole Fire Country. A logistics nightmare for sure. No wonder security was so lax around the hospital. Kakashi shakes his head and ends up switching off the television. Never would he have thought that having too much intel could be a bad thing.

“Ms Iori how would I go about getting something to read,” he asks the next day. She seems to be genuinely happy about his sudden sudden request. Kakashi hasn’t spoken or interacted much since waking, to busy trying to gauge whether the people surrounding him were threats.

He ends up with a pile of old manga volumes detailing the heroic adventures of some up and coming Hero protagonist and a stack of thin ‘magazines’ belonging to the nurse’s grown up son. The magazines are full of Hero analysis, speculation, and rumour like some sort of super detailed self-defeating bingo-book.  He just…doesn’t understand why anyone would let this sort of information circulate.

At least now he has a better idea about what a Hero and Villain was. A Hero was this word’s shinobi equivalent- if shinobi went out of their way to draw attention to themselves- acting more like a police force in that they managed threats to civilians instead of taking commissions and repelling external threats. Actually, they were nothing like Shinobi apart from their use of blood line abilities in combat. A Villain was like a missing-nin, hiding among the ridiculously large civilian population…sort of…

He needs to start working on a way home because he definitely doesn't understand this world.

...

NOTE: When Kakashi discovers the internet his brain will explode. 

PREV / NEXT

[kahuna-burger]

In which Kahuna Burger has WAAAAAY too many feelings about badly drawn game rewards...

So Wordscapes, which is okay but has too many ads, does weekly "Safari" events where you get little pictures you can use for your portrait. Now some of these safari collections are pretty, and some are cute. Some try a little too hard to be cute and look too cartoonish for me. And then there is this monstrosity:

Every one of these fuckers is concerning or disturbing to me on some level. Lemme start with Mr Walrus.

Something is going on below the camera angle that I do not want to know about.

Polar bear didn't want to know either, but he does and he regrets it.

Arctic hare, here, did want to know and is way too excited about it.

I'm pretty sure the ermine is what's going on below the walrus's picture. This snow weasel is DTF.

Orca belongs on a sex offender registry. I feel sexually harassed by this orca.

The penguin has also been sexually harrassed by this orca and the puffin is trying his best to get a restraining order, but it's slow going.

Baby Harp Seal looks sweet and innocent, but there's something a little too calculated about it. I am fairly certain Harp is running a child pornography sting on Sex Offender Orca and/or Walrus.

[itsuki-minamy]

“K SIDE: PURPLE 10”

Translation: Naru-kun Raws: Ridia

K - Side: Purple (Chapter List)

"Now he's tense!"

When Soma entered the room, that voice rang out.

About 10 men flocked to a section of a large spacious room. It looked like the cushions were scattered around the threadbare tatami mats, and that it was just a play area. He didn't have an intermediate basin, and he wondered if it was okay to bet in the area where everything was happening simply with a swing.

"Okay, here we go!"

The men pile up a wad of bills before the day, as invited by the tantalizing voice. Some are scorched and some are bloody. It is "loot" brought from the "battlefield". It is the custom of their predecessors that they often brought money, although they did not have much space or time to spend. Members of the underworld are obsessed with money.

"The pieces are ready. The game. Niroku no Ding!"

When the two dice emerged from under the bowl, the men cheered and sighed. Soma looked at him coldly. Although it was a life that could not be known tomorrow, they were both silly and funny, as they could be happy and sad like the eyes of a rhinoceros.

When…

Soma noticed that one of them did not tremble.

Their synonyms for black suits have been removed to expose the upper body. The impressive Japanese carved tattoos on his back, however, were mostly covered in red-black burns.

"Purgatory" Sword No. 3, Hiiragi Toma.

Soma's target person.

While he was sitting with one knee upright, Hiiragi was rolling a saber onto his side. He must have been stolen from "Scepter 4" during the last conflict. Like a swordsman, even the people of "Purgatory", who have an image of evil, are keeping a distance.

After breathing for a bit, Soma stood next to Hiiragi.

"Are you not feeling well, Hiiragi?"

"……"

Hiiragi looked at Soma with only his eyes. Eyes like a light buried in ash. Soma accepted the pressure of the line of sight, which would be to pass out just by looking directly at an ordinary person, with a smile.

"I have something I want to ask you. You have a little time, right?"

"Let's do it later."

Hiiragi replied briefly. Soma looked at the tatami in front of Hiiragi and shrugged slightly.

"Oh, that's right. Well, I'll wait for you here."

He took the cigarette out of the pack and lit it with the "lighter" to the left of him. Soma vaguely eyed the entire gambling house, smoking purple smoke. It was like the air that swayed there. A kind of atmosphere that is natural for "Purgatory" to breathe.

That's it.

"The pieces are ready. The game."

The hand, swinging the bowl, tried to reveal the rhino's eyes.

A steel-colored saber crashed against the tatami.

"Eh, aaaaaaaaaaagh?!"

Along with the screams, the finger swinging the bowl, rolled. Fresh blood overflowed from the cross section, staining the tatami mats red and black. As he distorted his face in severe pain, he was still screaming in anger.

"Well what are you doing, Hiiragi?"

He shook the saber like a great snake and cut his hand in half, but Hiiragi's face didn't show any change. The holly was fluffy, with a dull top.

"Soma."

"Oh?"

"In our group, I did this for the madman."

Soma laughed as he smoked a cigarette.

This guy must have been a newcomer who had just entered "Purgatory." If he had met a human named Hiiragi even if he was a little bit, he would never have been able to imitate such behavior. Or maybe it could just be an accurate statement, maybe he just wanted to use it as an excuse to use violence

Well, it doesn't matter what it is. Soma tossed the cigarette to the ground and stomped on it with the toe of his shoe.

"It is not a game; do you think such an answer is valid just because you are an executive?"

Hiiragi didn't reply anything with a serious expression. As he gritted his teeth in anger, he stepped on the mat with his left foot. From the burns that cover that story, a flame of extraordinary skill coiled vigorously.

A red light flashed on Soma's left hand.

A high-pressure, high-temperature "whip" that stretches freely at his will. Squirming like a snake targeting his prey, the light shot through his left eye and leaped through the back of his head as it was.

The mutilated body, which lost its brain function, fell.

Hiiragi looked at Soma. That hand was still holding the saber.

"Don't do extra things."

Soma snorted like a fool.

"If you go crazy, it's hard to clean up afterwards. Wear that fine style only outside."

His ability is activated from the tattoo engraved on his back. His power as a combat afterburner was not used in such a room.

Hiiragi kept looking at Soma, but when he looked away as if he had lost interest, he stopped there.

"Clean it up."

"Yes."

Several members of the clan took control and began to clean the tatami mats, bundles and corpses surrounded by gushing blood. There is nothing to blame for the violence. Hiiragi is an executive, not because he is a newcomer to the place, but because Hiiragi is stronger.

There is nothing in "Purgatory" that can be called order. There is only one measure of strong or weak. Those who fought and survived are strong, and those who died are weak. And the weak and the dead are equally useless. That was the only reason the clan welcomed the "King of Violence".

"So, what?"

At Hiiragi's question, Soma finally remembered his business.

"Oh, yeah. Where is the other one who was with you now?"

"......"

"Baraki...?"

Hiiragi frowned. The guy should have been attached to Hiiragi's subordinates, but he doesn't seem to remember him.

Soma was shocked and explained in a way that Hiiragi could understand.

"Look, he came in a few months ago, "right hand" and..."

"Oh, that boy."

Humans who have received the installation of the "Red King" will surely destroy a part of his body with vicious energy as if reflecting the nature of Kagutsu. In Soma it was the little finger of the left hand, in Hiiragi's case it was the back and in Baraki's case it was the right hand.

The damaged part also serves as a means to activate different abilities. Sometimes it is quicker to say what he lost than to remember his face.

Hiiragi shook his head slightly.

"I don't know. I haven't seen him in a while."

"That's right. My subordinate."

"I don't remember who lived and who died."

In "Purgatory", the death of a member of the clan is a daily event. Some die in battle with "Scepter 4", while others die in the inner circle of clan members, like the guy above. It seems that the martial arts group does not intend to remind the staff to be replaced to metabolize.

"He's either dead or trapped. It's not a weird story."

"Well, that's correct. I'm sure I haven't seen any other guys, and I'm sure they're gone."

"What's wrong with that guy?"

Looking back at Hiiragi's emotionless eyes, Soma shrugged.

"I got information to make money, but it seems they didn't tell me everything. So I thought I'd listen to you."

In this case, it would be more accurate to say "listen to the body" rather than "listen to the story." Hiiragi is also a person who originally belonged to an antisocial organization. So the story was fast.

"So he flew. Do you want to chase him?"

Not many members of the clan escape from "Purgatory". Originally, all who enter are daredevils who have no place in this world. There they can burn your life.

It is a group of lost people who do not know about the life and death of the moment, but there are exceptions to everything.

"I am sorry..."

Soma put his hand on his chin and pondered. From his own information from the registry, the question is whether traitors and fugitives can be left alone. "Purgatory" is not oscillating.

First of all, Kagutsu himself, who is the "King", must make him wonder if he doesn't believe that he belongs to the organization.

"So if you see him, you take a suitable frame."

"I understood."

Hiiragi laughed slightly. In fact, it is an order to kill. For Hiiragi, who has fallen from an antisocial organization to "Purgatory", the only thing that can burn his life is the exchange of lives with others.

As he held the saber, Hiiragi walked calmly. Seeing his back, Soma lit a cigarette again and inhaled purple smoke.

++++++++++

As he walked down the back alley so as not to expose himself, Noriya Baraki looked back many times.

There were no other figures than Baraki among the buildings where he rained heavily. Still, he couldn't shake the illusion that someone was chasing him, and he walked quickly with his shoulders hunched.

The dirty clothes that he was wearing, he took off a homeless person with bad luck, and although he smelled strong, he could not do otherwise. The black suit is synonymous with "Purgatory", he cannot wear such a thing forever.

He is no longer a member of "Purgatory".

Baraki belonged to "Purgatory" for the same reason that he joined the Ashima group. He thought it was a gathering of strong people. This is because there is one side that can exploit the weak as they please. So he gave Soma most of the information about the "assets" that he knew about and asked him to put them in the "Burning House". Even if he lost his right hand, he thought that, if he was a proof of a strong man, it would be like losing his little finger.

But…

Baraki realized that he was wrong.

"Purgatory" is not a group of strong men. It was a group of abnormal people.

The violence they wielded at will sometimes robbed the members themselves. Those facing the sword were killed. Those who fear were killed. And the unfortunate one was killed. Kagutsu Genji. That monster called "King" caused death and destruction just by being there. Literally, in "Purgatory", everyday life was next to death.

It is not an environment that can be tolerated by a decent nervous owner. Either they will die early or they will run away. And it's just one of them on a sunny day.

Baraki looked back again.

"Scepter 4" is not the only enemy of "Purgatory". Many anti-social organizations that establish conflicts, almost at random, also see "Purgatory" as their enemy. Similarly, those who strayed from there tended to be attacked more fiercely because there was no reception from the organization.

That is why he must hurry. Get what he wants and fly somewhere far away.

North or south, anywhere, out of reach of those monsters, somewhere far away.

When Baraki turned around for the third time, he appeared in the alley.

"Hey, Baraki."

While he was wearing the black suit, he was laughing, or not. He looks like he was laughing. Burns that jump from the edge of his lips to his temples make his face look like a smile.

"I've been looking for you. Where are you going?"

When he took a step to start running, his foot stopped. One in a black suit with a saber in hand blocked the way. The hand without the saber was badly burned, leaving only two fingers.

They both had familiar faces. They were under Hiiragi's orders.

The one with his "fingers" gasped.

"Hiiragi-san is looking for you."

The one with the burned "lips", he said.

"Which is better, being alive or charred? I'll let you choose according to the kindness of your former colleague."

Baraki put his right hand to his chest.

His heart was pounding hard like a bell and his usual face was bleeding. There was no escape because he was surrounded from the front and the back.

That means this alley, where he completely rains, has become his death.

From the moment he ran away, he had a feeling this would happen.

"Purgatory", "Scepter 4", Kagutsu Genji, Habari Jin. From the moment he got involved in the war of monsters that manipulated different abilities like burning dust, it was confirmed that his fate would be like this.

But still, he didn't want to die. He wanted to live.

Just that feeling propelled Baraki out of the swamp of despair. Baraki may have been small, but they weren't stupid enough to think they could live without doing anything.

If you want to live, you have to fight. It is a lodging business that is also run by those born in this world.

A flame came out of Baraki's right hand.

Guren's palm, which is one size larger than that of humans. The only weapon Baraki possessed colored the alleys that smoked in the rain red.

"Ku."

"Lips" in the back he laughed, and "fingers" in front of him raised his burned hand in front of his face and muttered.

"Yes. You will be charred."

(That's what will happen to you!)

Instead of yelling, he spat, and Baraki kicked the ground and raised his fiery hand towards "fingers".

++++++++++

Under the eaves in front of the station, Hase waited with his bag.

He had been raining lightly since morning, but he didn't have an umbrella due to Hase's nature. As he practiced, Mishakuji suddenly remembered that he was waving a wooden sword while turning into a wet mouse, regardless of whether it was raining or snowing.

Hase noticed Yukari and smiled.

"Oh. You came, Yukari. It's early!"

As Yukari smiles, he tips his umbrella and walks over to Hase.

"Sensei. There are still 30 minutes until the meeting time."

He hears that the place they were heading to from now on, where Miwa Ichigen lives, was in the mountains, which took almost half a day from here. However, Hase's luggage was a bad backpack and there seemed to be no decent change of clothes. With a strange look, Hase also looked at the carrying bag dropped by Yukari with similar eyes.

However, there is only one thing the two people have in common.

Yukari has a sheath that hangs from his shoulder and Hase has a sheath that hangs from his back. To put it the other way around, if you have this, you don't need any other luggage.

"Did you say hello to Sayuri-san before you left?"

Hase wondered such a thing as they entered the station together. Yukari shook his head.

"No, it looks like she was drinking late last night, so I left without saying hello."

"Haha, that's right. Well, it's the beginning of her beloved son. Maybe we all wanted to celebrate."

"It doesn't mean I won't be back."

Hase slaps Yukari's wet back with his big palm.

"I know, I know! You are a man of your word, don't worry!"

Having said that, he laughed at his arrogance.

Dissatisfied Yukari's lips were sharp. Still, it wasn't as frustrating as It used to be. He can always go back to "Nibangai". He will always be able to find the people who live there. That is why Yukari was motivated to take a step into a larger world, as they expected.

He only knows Miwa Ichigen from Hase's story. He's not an eloquent person, but his sword skills were the most beautiful thing Yukari had ever seen in his life. Every time he thought of Miwa's sword, who made Hase say, "I've never seen anything more beautiful than that.", he was excited.

He wanted to see it as soon as possible and, if possible, he would like to make adjustments and acquire it. Driven by painful expectations, Yukari was encouraged and headed for the ticket vending machine.

A roar echoed from a distance.

"……"

A heavy and low sound, like the sound of the earth. Yukari stopped and turned to that side.

The moment he instinctively felt that "Nibangai" was in the right direction, he heard the second sound.

It was a continuous roar. The sound of something exploding and burning, like you heard in war movies. Perhaps Hase noticed that, he turned his face towards him with his dull expression.

The two jumped out of the station at the same time.

Black smoke billowed in the direction of "Nibangai" past the shops and multi-tenant buildings lined up in front of the station. When swallowed it, a red-black explosion broke out many times. At the sight of the rain, the reflection of the flames that stained the streets red was reflected in Yukari's eyes like something terrible.

"Hey, Yukari! Wait!"

Hase's voice came from behind and, for the first time, Mishakuji realized that he was running.

Still, his legs didn't stop. He dropped the bag that was obstructive, and just grabbed the wooden sword that he had taken out of the sheath, Yukari ran in a straight line. Heading for his hometown, "Nibangai" surrounded by smoke and flames.

[thecaptainhelm]

Good Love

ch.2 is here, it’s technically an interlude, which is bad bc it’s so early. i never claimed to be good at this, so here’s Alfred being worried for almost two thousand words

Enjoy!

That day, it was one of the rare, bright mornings in Gotham, where the sky was overcast but the sun managed to shine through, sending dappled sunlight into the eastern wing of Wayne Manor. Alfred Pennyworth had been up before sunrise as he had been for decades, carrying out his more mundane tasks in service to the Waynes, though it would have been preferred that they learned to rely on him for other things.

Normally he wouldn’t complain quite so much, the stress from it was cumbersome in his old age, but the situation had been truly aggravating this past month.

The youngest master of the house had begun acting...strange. Strange in a way that genuinely worried both himself and Bruce. Damian was by no means the best at communication, but he did at least check in from time to time, and they saw him for when they needed extra hands on deck for their ‘night shift’ as they’d begun to call it.

He didn’t contact anyone for an entire week, dropping off radar, and the only reason anyone knew was that Dr. Norfey had left a message with his emergency contacts, asking him to set up a date to reschedule his bi-monthly appointments.

Everyone called Damian in a rush, and he said he was fine, but it was strange because Damian never did anything without a reason, ever. He was literally raised to make carefully planned decisions, and that idea was only reinforced under their care. They’d had to find out because he missed his therapy session as if he didn’t worry Alfred enough.

For the past three years, he had been in the care of a reputable therapist, competent, and more importantly, safe for Damian. They specialized in mentally and emotionally abused patients and unearthing childhood trauma. The success rate of Dr. Norfey was slightly above average, as most patients either leave positive reviews or receive recommendations for more intensive help. After arguing for days on end with the entire family, he finally relented and scheduled a two-hour session. After that, he went about his routine as usual.

Nothing extreme had happened, thank God, but there did seem to be a positive response. He met with Dr. Norfey again after two weeks, glaring at anyone who would look too long, daring them to speak up. It wasn’t long before it became the new normal. The young master gradually lost his scowl for something gentler, appearing relaxed when home, though he went back to it as soon as he left the premises. Certainly, he had his good days and his bad days, but he seemed all the more certain of himself as an individual. Truly, he didn’t think Damian could make him anymore proud.

Then, he met a young lady.

Her name was Marinette Dupain-Cheng, a petite young woman with kind eyes and a bright smile set upon a youthful face. She was polite, witty, with no small amount of talent and charm, and an endless amount of patience for Alfred’s brood. She was a breath of fresh air, especially for the suffocated Damian.

An investigation into her profile revealed that she was a rising star of the cutthroat fashion realm, her resume boasting high-profile clientele and lucrative business contracts. She hadn’t had anything notorious to her name, no criminal record, no illegal transactions, almost normal to the point of suspicion. After a while though, they managed to dig up something insidious.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng had connections to a terrorist.

Six years prior, a supervillain appeared in Paris for the first time, holding the city, it’s citizens, and tourists hostage for what would be the better part of three years. During that period, Ms. Dupain-Cheng would then begin to date Adrien Agreste, and then break up with him a year later. She and her entire family disappeared soon after. A month later, Hawkmoth was arrested, along with his accomplice Mayura, and seventeen years old son, Adrien Agreste. It didn’t take a detective to figure out what happened.

Looking at the classified investigation reports uncovered more of the truth, that Gabriel had the idea to use the miraculous to revive his wife. He planned to sacrifice his son’s girlfriend, a girl his wife would never know about by using Adrien to make the wish. In the end, he never even got his hands on the miraculous. Marinette had started to become uncomfortable with Gabriel’s strange questions and talked to Ladybug and Chat Noir.

When she told them of what types of questions she was asked, they grew concerned and sent her and her family to a safe house outside of Paris. From there, with police assistance, evidence was gathered and a warrant was issued. Gabriel was confident until Supergirl arrived, using her x-ray vision on the property and revealing the hidden lair beneath the building. He was quickly apprehended without fuss, and it was case closed. Adrien had been arrested as well, but he was quickly acquitted when evidence showed that he wasn’t involved in any way.

After that was the media firestorm, and the Dupain-Chengs weren’t spared. However, Ms. Dupain-Cheng was skilled as she showed her hand, and it was a revolution. Out from the woodwork poured celebrity after celebrity, vouching for her and her family.

She managed to turn her pariah status into that of a martyr in the eyes of the public because that was the bible-sworn truth. She’d rose to the occasion and exceeded all expectations. After that, she faded from the media for two years before returning as a critically acclaimed designer.     The Bats gave her a grace period and soon they too began to gradually lower their guard.

And young master Damian appeared to be quite smitten as he decided to open his heart as well.

He watched his young master attempt to curry favor with the young lady, awkwardly wooing her to their family’s amusement. He saw her cautiously reciprocate, and he saw their tentative courtship, budding and fragile, blossom into something beautiful and delicate. He saw them weather the tough days and work hard for their relationship. He saw Damian start to let himself be happy without restraint. Soon a year had passed, then two, and then three. In the fourth year, master Bruce started to hint to Alfred to update the family registry, as joyful as he was.

So when he was sent word that Damian’s belongings would be shipped home, he hoped that Ms. Marinette would be there with him.  Perhaps misfortune had come to their apartment and most of the young lady’s things had to be sent to storage, but it wasn’t meant to be. The message he sent left no room for misunderstandings.

I’m sending my things back to the manor. I’ll be home by the end of the week.

The young master shall be returning alone, then.

Alfred had long since received the delivery and moved everything back to its original place, save for items that were acquired after he’d moved out. Now the day had come for Damian to arrive home. The moment was both exactly and not at all what he’d expected.

On an unusually sunny morning, about an hour before noon, the one and only Alfred Pennyworth opened the doors to the sight of the youngest master, Damian.

His appearance was neat, shoulders back, and posture straight as a rod. There was not a hair out of place. However, his eyes…

It had been a while since he’s seen his eyes look so strained, it was clear that he had not slept well. This was when he knew that Ms. Marinette would not be returning for a visit for some time

“Welcome back, Master Damian,” he said.

“Hello, Alfred.” A rigid nod. “I have returned.”

“So it appears,” he opened the doors and waved Damian in. “I have your favorite pot of tea on. Would you care for a cup in the dining room or the parlor?”

“Neither. I’ll have some, but I’d like to rest for a while.” Damian stepped gingerly through the door, as though he was indeed tired. Normally, he wouldn’t let such an obvious wound slide, but he knew better to pressure a man trapped in a corner.

“Very well, young master,” Alfred shut the door and turned to accompany Damian through the main hall, a step behind.

“You’ll find your belongings in your old bedroom with the facilities fully stocked, as per usual. Please be sure to take care of your wound and to reschedule your session with Dr. Norfey before tomorrow.”

“Yes, thank you, Alfred.” A pause. Damian had never been one for conversation, but he would usually ask what was going on in the manor without wasting time.

“As your father will be out late at the office along with your brothers, dinner will be held an hour earlier to accommodate their sudden absence.”

A noncommittal hum came from the young man in front of him and Alfred nearly furrowed his brow in worry.

All too soon they arrived and Damian turned back to the Wayne family butler, stoic.

“Thank you, Alfred,” he nodded slightly. “I’ll be out for dinner, but I am feeling a bit hungry after my drive. “

“Say no more,” Alfred gave him a placid smile. “I’ve already set out the tea and snacks on your desk. I shall return for the platter after you have finished.”

Damian finally let loose a tiny smirk. “Thank you, Alfred.”

“Of course, sir.” A courteous bow was the last Damian saw of the butler as he entered and closed the door to his room.

Alfred walked back towards the kitchen to check on his pot roast, feeling relieved. Damian wasn’t at his best, that much was evident, but that didn’t mean he was at his worst. At least not yet. However, there was still hope, because while it seemed like he had regressed in his current state, his tired eyes said that he had some sort of revelation.

Alfred began to prepare Damian’s portion, wondering what could have happened between the two for him to return alone, looking as though he would rather be anywhere else? The list of options was short but severe. He could have told her any number of secrets about his past, family history, current vigilante occupation, and while he had faith in Ms. Marinette, the young woman was by no means a saint.

It could have also been that she broke up with Damian, and it might be his extreme bias, but he couldn’t fathom why. Yes, this was Damian they were talking about, but he’d been in therapy for close to eight years now and was making steady progress as he continued to root out his trauma and slowly but surely heal. However, he did not know how their relationship was faring, as both proved to be rather private. Though, the young miss was more shy than possessive.

Damian had over ten years of trauma, all throughout his early childhood, and suddenly he was becoming an adult. A confused, depressed, and unstable child had become trapped in the body and mind of an adult, and while everyone helped to the best they could, all while trying to help themselves, it wasn’t enough. It never would be, not for this battle.

Alfred sighed, feeling his years. He pulled dinner out to rest and started to set the table, just in time for the proximity sensors to notify him of Bruce’s car pulling into the estate. Right on schedule.

“Welcome home Masters Bruce, Timothy, and Duke. If you would, hurry and wash before dinner. It’s been quite the long day, has it not?”

there, it’s gonna be a while for ch. 3

[storiesweneedtotell]

The Black Dahlia

[WARNING: Graphic Content]  (July 25 1924 - January 15 1947)

Elizabeth Short was an American woman found murdered in Leimert Park, Los Angeles, California. Her case became highly published due to the graphic nature of the crime, and the mystery of her death.

Short was last seen Jan 9 1947, when she returned to her home from a brief trip with Robert Manley, a 25-yo married salesman she’d been dating. Manley said he dropped her off at the Biltmore Hotel and that she was to meet her sister, who was visiting from Boston, that afternoon.

Jan 15, Short’s naked body was found severed in two on a vacant lot in Leimert Park. At the time, the neighbourhood was largely undeveloped. A local resident discovered the body whilst walking with her 3-yo daughter, she initially thought she had found a discarded store mannequin. When she realised it was a corpse, she rushed to a nearby house and called the police. Short’s severely mutilated body was bisected at the waist and drained of blood, leaving her skin white. M.E.’s determined that she had been dead for around 10 hours prior to discovery, meaning her time of death was estimated as either during the evening of Jan 14, or the early hours of Jan 15. Her face had been cut from the corners of her mouth to her ears, creating an effect known as the “Glasgow smile”. She had several cuts on her thighs and breasts. The lower half of her body was positioned a foot away from the upper, and her intestines had been tucked neatly beneath her bottom. She had been posed with her hands over her head, her elbows bent at right angles, and her legs spread apart. Near the body, detectives found a heel print on the ground amid tire tracks and a cement sack containing watery blood. There were ligature marks on her ankles, wrists, and neck, as well as cuts covering her body varying in severity. Upon discovery, a crowd of both passers-by and reporters gathered. Cause of death was determined as haemorrhaging (massive blood loss) from her cuts to her face and shock from blows to her head. There was also evidence of sexual assault, but no semen was found. Her body had also seemingly been washed by the killer.

Jan 21, someone claiming to be Short’s killer called James Richardson, the editor of the Examiner, congratulating him on the newspaper’s coverage of the case, and stated he planned on eventually turning himself in, but not before allowing the police to chase him further. He also told Richardson to expect “some souvenirs of Beth Short in the mail”.

Jan 24, a suspicious manila envelope was discovered by a U.S. Postal worker. The package had been addressed to “The Los Angeles Examiner and other Los Angeles papers” with individual words cut and pasted from newspaper clippings; a large message on the face of the envelope read “Here is Dahlia’s belongings, letter to follow”. The envelope contained Short’s birth certificate, business cards, photographs, names written on pieces of paper, and an address book with the name ‘Mark Hansen’ embossed on the cover. The package had been carefully cleaned with gasoline, similarly to Short’s body, which led police to suspect it had been sent directly from her killer. A handbag and black suede shoe was also found a short distance from where the body was discovered, both were also wiped clean with gasoline, destroying any fingerprints.

Mar 14, an apparent suicide note was found tucked into a shoe in a pile of men’s clothing by the ocean’s edge in Venice, U.S.A.; The note read: “To whom it may concern: I have waited for the police to capture me for the Black Dahlia killing but have not. I am too much of a coward to turn myself in, so this is the best way out for me. I couldn’t help myself for that, or this. Sorry, Mary.” The clothes gave no clues about the identity of their owner.

Police interviewed Manley and Mark Hansen in the days after Short’s death (the owner of the address book in the package sent to the Examiner) as they believed them to be suspects. Short’s roommate told investigators that Short had recently rejected Hansen’s sexual advances, and that this might be cause for him to have killed her, but both he and Manley were quickly cleared of suspicion. A total of 750 investigators, including L.A.P.D. officers, sheriff’s deputies, and State Patrol officers worked on the case. 150 men were interviewed as possibly suspects but to date, no arrests have been made.  

Bittersweet Lining: Feb 2 1947, Republican state assemblyman C. Don Field was prompted by the case to introduce a bill calling for the formation of a sex offender registry; the state of California would become the first U.S. state to make the registration of sex offenders mandatory.

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

*with Luke* helping your sister and her fiance with making a wedding registry (register?) and Luke comes along and you're aksjdksksk bc Luke

You’re on a video call with your sister begging, she’s got her hands buried in her hair. “I don’t have the slightest fucking clue how to build a registry.”

You laugh, “And why are you asking me to help? I don’t know either.”

“Emotional support,” she counters, “Emotional support!”

“You do realize that’s why you have a fiancé?” 

“They went out of town for work. Please help. Please. Just one Friday with your sister. It ain’t that bad.” You sigh because you were supposed to spend the day with Luke. He had been in the studio late some nights. He made point to stay in during the mornings so you two could have breakfast. But still it wasn’t easy and you two hadn’t been able to spend a lot of time together. 

However, you still can’t leave your sister hanging. Especially now hearing that she’d be starting this process by herself. “I gotta make a call,” you say. “But sure.”

“Thank you! You’re the best sister around.”

“Please remember that at all major holidays with year.” The two of you laugh and she ends the call. You’re not sure if Luke’s gonna blow his top or not. You know he’d been working hard laying vocals so he could take the day with you and now here you were, having to cancel them. Luke didn’t get angry a lot at all--but right now there was pressure from the record label and you know that he needed to focus on that. You still wanted your time together. 

Things are just a mess. There’s no real sense in waiting either. Either way it’d be a mess. The phone rings in your ear and you’re trying to keep the shakes out of your hands. You don’t want to cancel the plans and you’re hoping today’s been good in the studio so that maybe you two and rearrange for just dinner out and bout rather than the whole day like previously determined. 

“Hey, babe,” Luke answers. 

You can’t tell from his voice if today’s bad or not. He sounds okay, possibly tired. “Hey. Is it a bad time?”

“No, no. Not a bad time. What’s up?”

“My sister called.” 

There’s a small pause but Luke hums. “Trouble in paradise or?”

“Not a bad kind of trouble. She needs help with her wedding registry and her fiance went out town for work and I think she wants to go to a few stores and talk to someone there. And she asked for my help.”

“Uh huh, why do you sound scared? Is that really what’s going on?”

“She wanted to go Friday.”

Another pause. Then he hums and you swear you can feel every ounce of blood thumping through your veins. “Got space for one more?”

Brows burrowed, you pull the phone away to make sure you’ve called the right person. “Huh?”

“If it’s a girls only thing, then, I get it. I’ll-I’ll just work until about 2 on Friday and then later in the afternoon we can hang out like we planned.”

“It’s-it’s not a girls only thing. I just, I know we made plans for Friday and I’m really sorry.”

“It’s your sister, babe. I’m not mad. A little annoyed I busted ass for vocals,” he laughs, “but I mean shit happens.”

“Thanks. For understanding,” you breathe. Your shoulders drop, the thumping in your veins slows. “And I’m sure you can tag along. I just don’t know why you’d want to?” The end lilts up, you’re not sure if he understands what the day’s going to entail.

“Practice,” he returns quickly. 

Your eyes widen. He did not just say what you think he said. “What? Practice?”

“You heard me. Let me know if your sister’s okay with me joining and we can go from there. Have you eaten yet today?”

You’re still staring at the call, looking at his name and the seconds ticking up. This man is not real, you think to yourself. He is not real. “Yeah, I did. Have you?”

“Lunch just got here. I’ll text you later. Unless you want to talk about something else.”

“No, no, that was all.”

“Love you.”

“I love you too,” you whisper watching the call end. “What the fuck was that?” When you text your sister that you’re all clear and that Luke wants to join, she has not issue. The evening rolls in deep and by the time the front door opens, the alarm system chirping at the opened door, you look up from your cuddle puddle with Petunia to see Luke, strutting over to you. 

He presses a kiss to your forehead and then Petunia. He looks tired and you know the days are adding up fast. “Dinner’s chilling in the oven if you’re hungry,” you offer, sitting up to brush your fingers over his cheek. 

“Ate earlier, but thank you. I’ll take some for lunch tomorrow.” He roots into your touch, still haven’t shrugged out of his denim jacket or his boots. His keys are still hanging around his finger. 

“You sure you want to come with us Friday? You could just take the day, sleep in.”

“No, I want to tag along. Get time with you. You get to see your sister. It’s a win all around.”

“I still can’t believe what you said. Practice. Why do you need to practice putting together a wedding registry?”

Luke softly exhales, kissing your palm. “Because, maybe,” he starts, his cheeks tinting pink. “One day we’ll put together one. If that’s something you’d like.”

The thumping blood comes back and you’re sure your chest is going to rattle loose with hw unsteady your breathing is. “This better not be a proposal.”

His laughter is sharp and a bit of a squeal. He falls into your chest, forehead rest right in the center. The weight reminds you how to breathe properly. “No, no, it’s not. I know I’m a goof and I probably would attempt to propose like that. But I would at the very least have the ring.”

You wrap your arms around his broad shoulders and fall into the cushions of the couch. “You are a goober. But that’s reassuring.” Silence settles, not even the TV seems to make noise for a moment. “But I’d be okay with that. I’d like it. Marrying you.”

Luke exhales into your skin--you feel it through the t-shirt. “Good.”

“Those mixing bowls are hideous,” your sister laughs as Luke holds up a set. He’s browsing for your kitchen and also to help your sister. Mostly, he’s out of his depth but he’s learning as he fails. So far, he’s managed to pick out a decent blender but he’s failed miserably at other kitchen items. 

“Oh c’mon, they’re kinda cute,” Luke defends. 

“It’s too bright. The lemons and the green of the leaves, it’s best to leave that here,” your sister teases. 

You laugh at them, eying a crystal cake dish. But you know you don’t need it. “Okay, on the real,” you start, turning to your sister. “You and your fiancé don’t even cook like that. So how much do you really want to have to deal with kitchenware you’re not going to use?”

She sighs. “Fair. But we do like to host.”

“I vote investing in some good serve ware but if you’re not doing the cooking, then we really ought to get out of here. I still think you two could ask for better traveling gear. The two of you are always bouncing around for work and you keep saying that the two of you are harsh on suitcases.”

Luke perks up. “I know a place close by that’s got really good traveling gear.”

“Does that belong on a wedding registry?” your sister asks. 

“Look it’s yours. You get to ask for whatever the fuck you want,” you return. 

“And what’s the harm in just looking?” Luke chimes in before holding up golden yellow dutch oven. He looks at you with puppy eyes. 

“We have a dutch oven,” you sigh. 

“But it’s not yellow.”

“We do not need two dutch ovens.” The three of you walk out of the store after completing some of the cookware and serve ware that your sister and her fiancé will need and Luke proudly carries the box of the yellow dutch oven to the car. You agreed that you could get the yellow one if he found a place to donate the other one. The color didn’t clash with the rest of the set thankfully. 

“Let this be known when we do create our wedding registry, I am not bringing you along for the kitchen stuff,” you sigh, opening the trunk for him. 

“But you love me.”

“I do. Sometimes unfortunately.”

[prue84]

Star Trek/Star Wars: USS Republic enamel coin

Fandom: Star Wars (Prequels Trilogy) AU / Star Trek (reboot) Series: Fandoms in Trek AUs [masterpost] Companion piece: USS Republic seal Crew manifest: (WIP)

SF:\Starfleet\Starships\USS Republic>NCC_1999>_

“To Bring Peace and Prosperity”

Ship’s Name: U.S.S. Republic Ship’s Registry: NCC-1999 Ship’s Class: Constitution Class Ship’s Type: Heavy Cruiser Status: _loading… Crew complement: _loading… Crew manifest: _loading error…

The enameled coin bearing the ship's seal, that is given to any crew member who serves on that ship in any capacity or rank in the centuries-long tradition of service coins.

About the starship The USS Republic (registry number NCC-1371) is TOS-canon: it's the ship where Kirk serve with Ben Finney. However, its status by 2267 (Court Martial) is unclear. Also, its belonging to the Costitution-class is uncertain and not canon. We only know that Jim served on it in 2254, at the start of his career (when he likely were still a cadet). The Kelvin Timeline established the Enterprise's launch in 2258 instead of the 2240s of the main timeline (the specific date, 2245, was made canon only with Discovery, but this year was already referenced in production material from Enterprise). In the comics they partially tried to explain this difference with the existence of a previous Enterprise, commanded by Robert April and lost during a mission (a plot I'm not much fond of). Anyway. If the Enterprise in this timeline could be launched 13 years later, I guess the Republic could be younger as well. Or. There could be a Republic, where AOS!Kirk served for a round as a cadet, and a newer Republic, a Constitution-class that was given the name of the vessel that had been just retired/turned into training ship (can the fleet keep two working ships with the same name or they need to retire one before assign the same name to another?). I decided for this option, mostly because I want to keep my hands free: I like to consider these Fandom Crews canon in my own AOS, so I wouldn't want Jim to have to serve as a cadet under captain Palpatine, lol - besides, I want him to be "Constition-class-virgin" when he gets on the Enterprise: the Enterprise is his one and only Constitution-class. Also, this way I can pick the registry number. Speaking of which. The number is the year The Phantom Menace was released, and the first time we saw on screen the Republic. Does the 1999 makes sense, given the Enterprise's 1701? No. But canon registry numbers for Constitution-class don't make sense either, going from 1664 of the Excalibur to the >1701 of the Constitution referenced in the movies.

About the motto "Together we shall bring peace and prosperity to the Republic" is a quote from The Phantom Menace, when Palpatine - just elected Chancellor - reassures Amidala. I decided to pick this quote and turn it into the infinite a la "To Boldy Go" of the Enterprise. (Confession: I actually didn't find anything else).

Notes I have the crew manifest on the works since 2020. Hopefully I'll complete the graphics sometime.

———————————————————————————————

Behind the seal The red comes from the Republic flag as seen in the fifth season of in Clone Wars, in a shot of the Republic military headquarters on Coruscant: the flag features the emblem on a field of a specific shade of red. In the comics the flag appeared in the white/black/red palette similar to the one later used for the Galactic Empire, but I elected to use the one from Clone Wars as it should be more canon, I guess? Actually, I didn't want the redundancy. The logo itself is the one used in Clone Wars, where the six clogs are shorter than the classic version used in comics.

Tec stuffs (aka Behind The Manip) The seal was done in April, but only in late August, while on a roll, made the coin version. It took me a while to make it work and still I'm not completely satisfied but, whatever.

———————————————————————————————

Crossposted Livejournal: prue84.livejournal.com/90678.html Dreamwidth: prue84.dreamwidth.org/82672.html Deviantart: deviantart.com/prue84/art/Star-Trek-Star-Wars-Prequels-USS-Republic-ename-932248750

[cordonian-literature]

The Aftermath - Ch. 29

Outside the Bakery

Summary: Drake tags along with Liam and the kids during the country jamboree. The day after, he has to babysit.

Word Count: ~2.7k 

Warnings: none

*All characters belong to Pixelberry, except those that are unique to my story (I’ve also used some characters and fictional instances from Donna Tartt’s book “The Goldfinch”)*

Catch up here!

Tags: @captain-kingliamsqueen @gkittylove99 @lovablegranny @iam-the-kind-and-thoughtful @mom2000aggie @kingliam2019 @queenrileyrose @shanzay44 @cordonianroyalty @hopefulmoonobject @hopelessromanticmonie @cinnamonspongecake @kuladekiwi @twinkle-320 @charlotteg234 @amandablink @texaskitten30 @tinkie1973 @queencatherynerhys @pens-girl-87 @ladyangel70 @sanchita012 @cordonianprincess @liamandneca @cordonia-gothqueen @pink-diamond13 @queenwalton @yourmajesty09 @alj4890​

I’m not sure if the tags are working or not, but I hope I got everyone down! I’ve removed people who haven’t interacted with my posts in a while. If you would like to be added/removed, please let me know :)

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

- Drake -

Since he was worried about Jessica, Drake had decided to skip the fox hunt and spend the day with her. He planned on bringing her to lunch, then a movie, but instead she dragged him to set up the wedding registry. The bridal consultant walked Jessica through her choices while Drake stalled behind. Whenever she asked for his opinion, Drake would just say to choose whatever she wanted. 

“Chinois?” she would persist, asking for his opinion when really, he didn’t know what to choose and didn’t care that much. “Or Birds of the Nile? Do say, Drake, I know you must prefer one of the two.” 

“You can’t go wrong with either,” the consultant said helpfully. “Both are fun and fancy. And this one is simple, for everyday.” 

“It’s fine,” Drake said, his tone more curtly than he intended. Both Jessica and the consultant were blinking up at him, waiting for his decision. 

“China—” the consultant started up again, staring down at a plate on display. “The way I like to think of it is that it’s the end-of-day ritual. It’s wine, fun, family, togetherness. It’s a great way to put some permanent style and romance in your marriage.” 

Eventually, Jessica made a decision, and they were able to return to Applewood.

But the morning of the country jamboree, she said she had to go back to the capital but promised to attend the Beaumont Bash. Drake wondered what she was leaving for, but didn’t ask her to explain. He knew she must have been emotionally distressed by her father’s passing, even though she never hinted a tear. He kissed her, let her leave, then joined the court on the lawn. 

Drake decides to join Liam, who stands with Gabriel and Eleanor. Both children look around the lawn, figuring out what they want to do. Liam spots Drake and waves him over. 

“Dad, could we do archery?” Gabriel asks his father. 

“Of course,” Liam says. A flash of worry crosses his face as he follows the children across the lawn. “No Jessica today?” Liam asks Drake as the two friends walk side-by-side. 

“Nope,” Drake responds. “She’s at the capital. Had something to do.”

“I see,” Liam responds, turning back to the children. 

“Where’s Riley?” Drake looks around the lawn for her, wondering what was keeping her occupied. He notices Neville’s son running around the lawn, along with some other children.

“With Countess Hana. Riley spoke with Rashad, who hold her that Hana is hesitant to file for divorce.” 

“Do I hold it like this?” Eleanor asks Liam, referring to the bow that was in her hand and too far from her face. 

Liam kneels down to the girl and corrects her form, then goes to his son and does the same thing. Once he tells the children how to hold the arrow, he lets them hit the target. 

Eleanor’s arrow lands on the ground in front of the target, while Gabriel’s arrow hits the target at an odd angle and lands behind it. The children laugh at each other’s mistakes, and Liam chuckles at them. 

They hit a few more shots while Liam observes them, making sure there was no chance of injury. 

“Do you think we could all go camping tonight?” Liam asks Drake, his eyes focused on the children. “I can have someone get the supplies together and we can surprise everyone.”

“Sounds like a plan.” 

“What are you two doing?” Olivia asks, walking up to them. 

“Hello to you, too,” Drake greets her. 

“Yes, yes. Enjoying the jamboree with your fiancée?”

“She’s not here.” 

“She got tired of you? It’s about time.”

“Did you come all the way over here to talk about my love life? If so, I’d like to take a minute to discuss your’s—”

“Alright, you two,” Liam interrupts them. “Duchess, I hope you have news about the investigation?” 

Olivia sighs.��“No. There were no fingerprints on the painting, nor anywhere in Gabriel’s room.” Her shoulders fall. “I don’t know where else to look. There’s... nothing.” 

Liam’s brow furrows, a dark shadow coming over his face. “Let’s not lose hope yet. Keep looking, and let me know if you find anything. And also,” Liam brings her attention back to him. “I think Riley could use your help convincing Countess Hana to divorce the Earl.” 

“On it,” Olivia states, then walks towards the two women.

Drake and Liam follow the children around the lawn, watching them enjoy different activities. Liam suggests ring toss to Eleanor, who refuses, saying that she knows she’ll lose. 

“Nonsense,” Liam says, then leads them over to the booth. 

Her brother grabs three rings, and Eleanor’s shoulders fall. 

"Here.” Liam lifts Eleanor over his shoulders, then hands her the rings. 

“I feel like a giant!” she cries. 

Gabriel lets her go first, and Eleanor throws her ring in a swift arch onto an outer peg. Gabe throws it onto a center peg, and when Eleanor goes again, she hits it onto the outer peg. 

When it’s time for Eleanor’s final throw, Gabriel has more points than her. Liam secretly grabs the ring from Eleanor, and throws it onto the center peg. Gabriel looks back at his father and sister suspiciously. 

Even though Gabriel won the game, Eleanor still laughed along with her brother and Liam. 

They walk around for a few more moments, enjoying the view of colorful booths that had been put up. They reach the entrance of the maze, and Gabriel turns to his father. “Can we do something else?” 

“What would you like to do?” Liam asks.

“How about maze-tag?” Drake suggests. 

Both kids violently shake their heads. He remembers the time when Eleanor got stuck in the maze, and curses himself for not remembering. 

“Can we play soccer again?” Gabriel requests.

“Of course.” Liam leads the group towards the orchard, but one of his guards approaches them and says his attention is needed elsewhere. 

Drake says that he’ll keep the kids occupied until Liam gets back, and a servant brings out a soccer ball for them to use. 

“Do you guys wanna make teams, or...?” Drake attempts to ask them. 

“No,” Gabriel answers. “We can just choose positions and play.”

“I’m fine with that. I’ve played defense.”

“I’m usually midfield.” 

“I wanna be goalie!” Eleanor cries. 

“Well, Eleanor,” Drake says, focusing on Gabriel and the ball. “Guess I’m defending you.” 

“Don’t lose,” the girl demands. 

The three of them play for hours, oblivious of the sun falling and the air getting colder. Drake was surprised at how agile Gabriel was, and had to push himself to keep up. 

Soon, Liam returns and tells them that it’s time for dinner. The children race towards the tables while Drake and Liam stay back. 

“Everything okay?” Drake asks his friend. “You were gone for a while.” 

“Yes,” Liam huffs. “Madeleine wished to speak to me.” 

“What did she want?” 

“She was concerned that the Anointing Ceremony would be held for an heir whose mother is not married to the king, or at least engaged.”

“You’re no closer to proposing?” Drake asks him. 

“I’m not too sure. I... I’m waiting for the right moment.”

Relief washes over Drake, but in the next second he feels guilty for it. His feelings for Riley were beginning to fade, and he was engaged to another woman, why was he jealous of his friend? 

At the dinner, Drake takes his seat. He sees the children sit with Leo’s kids. Riley, Hana, Maxwell, and Rowan sit near Drake. The court goes quiet when Liam clinks his glass. 

“If I may have everyone’s attention, please, I’d like to say a few words before the evening comes to a close. Firstly, I would like to thank all of you for joining us at the country estate, your company has been a pleasure. The next time we meet, it will be the last event of the Social Season. Per tradition, it will be hosted at the distinguished Beaumont House.”

As Maxwell begins to cheer and Liam brings his speech to a close, the court finishes their meals and heads back to the estate. 

When Riley stands, Liam offers her his arm. She takes it with a smile, and the two of them lead the group back towards the front of the manor. 

As the house comes into view, they see a limo waiting. Riley asks who it’s for, and Liam tells her that it’s waiting for them. 

As they get in, Drake quickly convinces Savannah to let Bartie come along. When they’re all in the car, questions are being thrown at Liam. 

“I thought we could all enjoy a night under the stars,” he tells them. 

After a short drive, they exit onto a campsite. There are tents already up for everyone: Liam, Drake, Riley, Hana, Maxwell, Rowan, Bartie, Gabriel, and Eleanor. 

The children rush forward, claiming their tents. Drake goes into his tent, and comes out with a bag of sticks, marshmallows, graham crackers, and chocolate.

While the kids chase each other around, Drake gets to work starting a fire. He hands everyone sticks and marshmallows. Liam calls the children over and gives them directions on how to make s’mores. 

The group sits in silence, watching their marshmallows cook. As a joke, Eleanor lowers her stick into the fire, and her marshmallow comes back up in flames. 

“Spicy s’more,” she states. Gabriel and his sister laugh, while Drake takes the stick from her and puts out the fire. 

Liam, chuckling, gives Eleanor his own s’more. While she eats it, she watches her brother cook his marshmallow. Once she’s done eating, Eleanor holds out her hand to her brother. “Can I have s’more?” 

“Of course you can have s’more s’mores,” Gabriel responds. The children and Maxwell burst out into laughter, clutching their stomachs. 

“Did you teach them how to make puns?” Drake asks Riley. 

“Nope! Must be in the genes.” She laughs, and Drake rolls his eyes.

Maxwell grabs the group’s attention next, saying that he wanted to tell them a ghost story. The children lean forward, childish fear on their faces. Riley rests her head on Liam’s shoulder as they listen. Hana and Rowan talk quietly.

Drake looks at his group of friends. It had been so long since they were together, that the feeling of companionship felt new. There was peace and comfort, something he hadn’t felt for a long time. He wishes Jessica were here, but allows her to slip from his mind as he retreats into his tent and falls asleep.

... 

Upon Liam’s suggestion that they go to Ramsford early, their morning is spent driving through the countryside. When they arrive, Bertrand greets them at the door and servants take their luggage inside.

Before they enter the manor, Liam turns to speak to Maxwell and Drake. 

“Do you both think you can watch over the children today?” Liam asks. “I want to take Riley out on a date.” 

“Definitely!” Maxwell cries. “Don’t worry about them, we’ve got it covered. You two go have fun!”

Liam thanks them, then goes into the manor. Drake tries to follow, but Maxwell blocks his path. 

“What is it, Maxwell?” Drake asks, irritated. 

“Okay so I know I told Liam I’d watch over the kids with you, but Rowan and I kinda have a date tonight.” 

“Then why’d you say yes?”

“I don’t know!” Maxwell’s shoulders jump up. “I wanna hang out with the baby blossoms, but I also wanna spend time with Rowan! I’d ask Hana to take care of it but her dinner with Rashad is tonight, too.”

Drake pats his friend on the arm. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of the kids.” 

“Thank you!” Maxwell cries, then pulls Drake into a hug. 

After a few awkward seconds, Maxwell pulls back and rushes into the house.

When it’s time for Liam and Riley to leave, they hug the children goodbye and step out. Maxwell waits a few moments, looking out the window to see if their car had left yet, then links his arm through Rowan’s and heads out the door. 

Drake turns to the children, wondering if they’d just go do something or if he had to be with them at all times. 

“Is there... anything you guys wanna do?” he asks them.

Eleanor shrugs. Her brother says, “I kinda want ice cream.”

That was doable. Drake ducks into the kitchen and opens the freezer, but finds nothing. He asks a servant if there was any ice cream, but they shake their head.

“Sorry kids,” he says to them once he’s returned to the lobby. “There’s no ice cream.” 

“Can we go get some?” Eleanor asks.

Drake thinks a moment. Riley and Liam wouldn’t mind if he brought the kids out, right? “Don’t see why not.” 

While the two of them wait in the lobby, Drake asks a servant to get a limo ready for them. Once the driver is outside, Darke leads the kids into the car and they drive off. 

He sends Jessica a text, wondering what she was up to:

Hey babe. Got any plans today?

She texts back within a few seconds.

in a movie with some friends. text later xx

When they reach town, Drake tells the driver to stop, and that they could walk the rest of the way to the ice cream store. The driver says that he won’t move from this spot, and the kids lead Drake down the street.

He stops in his tracks when the kids halt in front of a bakery. 

“Can we get cupcakes instead?” Eleanor asks.

“You sure?” Drake looks down at Gabriel. 

“Please,” the boy says. 

Drake shrugs and follows the kids into the store, the smell of freshly baked bread surrounding him. The kids walk towards the display cases, discussing what they wanted. 

More and more people walk into the bakery, pushing towards the counter to get their orders. Drake pulls out his phone, wondering if Jessica was free yet. He taps Gabriel on the shoulder and tells them that he would be stepping out, but would keep an eye on them.

Outside the bakery, he watches Gabe and Ella poking at cakes and cookies that caught their eyes. He sees his own reflection in the display window, along with cars and buses on the street behind him. Drake dials Jessica’s number again and brings it to his ear, wanting to figure out if she was out of the movie theater yet.

But just as it was clicking towards voicemail, he notices a deep green sweater in the reflection, sharply contrasting with the pinkish colors of goods in the bakery. In disbelief, Drake turns. 

It was Jessica, head down, in a green sweater, huddled arm in arm and whispering with a man Drake recognized — he hadn’t seen the man in what felt like forever, but Drake knew him instantly.

Boris wore the same coat from the day of the Derby. His hair is slightly ruffled, and he has a bag looped over his arm. But the astonishing part was Jessica, who always held Drake’s hand at a slight distance — tugging him along behind her, swinging her arm childishly — was nestled deep and sorrowfully into Boris’ side. 

They were waiting for the light, the bus whooshed past. They were too wrapped up in each other to notice Drake. 

Boris, who was talking to her quietly, tousled her hair and then turned and pulled her to him and kissed her, a kiss she returned with more tenderness than any kiss she’d ever given Drake.

They were crossing the street. Quickly, Drake turned away. He could see them perfectly well in the window of the bakery. They stopped suddenly, only a few feet away from him. 

Jessica was upset. She was talking quietly, in a low voice overflowing with emotion, leaning into Boris wish her cheek pressed against his sleeve as he reached around lovingly to squeeze her arm. 

Though Drake couldn’t make out what she was saying, the tone of her voice was too clear. Even in her sadness, her joy in this man — and his joy in her — was undeniable. Any stranger on the street could have recognized it. 

As they glided past Drake — looking like two affectionate ghosts in the display window — he saw her reach up to quickly dash a tear from her cheek. Drake found himself blinking in astonishment at the sight: for the first time ever, Jessica was crying.

[aiorevelations]

A Number, Not a Name: part five

Chapter 5: Collision Course

Three months earlier:

Norvan clenched his fists as he struggled to control his growing anger. Thoughts raced through his mind. Not even one week ago the pieces of the puzzle were continuing to fall in place. Everything was going according to plan. But now in light of recent events, he couldn’t help but feel that everything they had worked toward was beginning to slip away. Success is certain. That had always been his motto in life. A saying he had always stood by. But now he had been given a rude awakening. Reminded that nothing in life is assured, least of all, power. He passed through an iron gate, beyond which a BMW was parked, and walked a few more feet until he reached the car. Norvan opened the right rear passenger door and quickly climbed in. 

“Where to sir?” his driver Aren asked.

“Home Aren.” Norvan quietly replied.

“Of course sir.”

Aren turned the key in the ignition and the BMW roared to life. He then pressed down on the gas pedal and they began making their way from the large mansion and down the wooded mountainside.

For several minutes Norvan and Aren rode in silence, Norvan completely lost in his thoughts about the events of the last few days.  

Aren glanced in his boss’ direction and noticed the pensive uneasy expression spread across his face as Norvan peered through the passenger window.

“Sir?” Aren asked, interrupting Norvan’s thoughts.

Norvan turned his head toward Aren. “Yes, what is it?” He asked, not much in the mood for conversation. 

“Forgive me for asking,” he spoke somewhat hesitantly “but are you, all right? Pardon me for saying this sir but you don’t look well.”

“I’m fine Aren. Just a little tired is all. I haven’t been able to get much sleep lately.” 

He glanced momentarily at his reflection in the window. His hair was disheveled and large dark circles had formed under his eyes. On the outside, it looked as though he hadn’t slept for months which was probably true. He couldn’t remember the last time he had slept. The stress and constant worry of the past few months had heavily weighed on him through all hours of the day and try as he might he couldn’t shake them.

Aren spoke again, “Well, we have a long drive ahead of us sir. Perhaps you can get some rest on the way.”

“I believe I wi—”

Norvan was suddenly cut off as a bullet shattered the rear windshield sending shards of glass flying toward him and Aren. 

Norvan quickly turned his head and saw three vehicles following behind them.

“Hold on sir!” Aren flattened the accelerator to the floor, pushing them each back in their seats as the car accelerated forward. 

Aren drove the car as fast as he could, mindful of the winding road, and the steep embankment on one side of them. Afraid they might drive off the road to their certain deaths. After a few moments, Norvan carefully looked behind him again and saw the line of cars still in hot pursuit. Drawing closer to the BMW with every passing second. It was clear they would soon catch up to them. 

“Shoot!” Norvan muttered under his breath as he bent down and grabbed a gun from under his seat. It was something that he had always kept hidden there for situations like this. In his line of work, one could never be too prepared. For a brief moment, he stared down at the gleaming pistol and then cocked back the safety. He turned around and aimed the gun through the shattered rear windshield. Norvan could feel his heart beating rapidly and drops of sweat trickling down his face. He struggled to keep his aim steady as his hands were shaking profusely. He swallowed hard and pulled back the trigger. He fired off a rapid succession of shots which sent one car careening to the side. He assumed he’d hit the driver. 

Within seconds the BMW was hit by another barrage of bullets. Norvan sharply inhaled as he felt a searing pain shoot through his side. The sudden agonizing pain caused him to drop the gun beside him on the back seat. He could feel a wet, sticky liquid dripping down his chest. Looking down he saw the whole side of his blazer and shirt stained red with blood. He quickly dug a handkerchief from his pocket and stuffed it up under his coat, pressing it tight against the bleeding wound. An involuntary gasp escaped his lips as he reacted to the pain unleashed by the slight contact. Even with his high pain threshold, he was in agony. Aren, hearing his boss’ distress, called out to him.

“Sir! Sir are you all right?!”

“I—” he took a deep breath “I’m fine. Just ge—aaahhhh!” Another sudden jolt of pain racked Norvan’s body, sending him crumpling to the car floor.

“Sir! Sir!!” Aren called out desperately to Norvan after hearing him violently collapse.

As Norvan lay there on the carpeted floor he could make out the muffled sounds of Aren calling out to him over and over. No matter how hard he tried no sound or response came from his lips. As time passed he could feel himself slipping further into unconsciousness. The once overwhelming sounds of gunfire and tires skidding were now mere echoes in the distance. The previously distinguishable form of Aren was now a blackened shadow. He tried to fight it, telling himself to stay awake. That this wasn’t how it was supposed to end. However, he knew the writing was on the wall. In his nearly unconscious state, he heard a muffled yet eerily distinct noise that sounded like an explosion. This was followed by another indistinct yet terrorizing sound. Was it a cry of pain, a shriek, or the sound of wailing? He couldn’t tell. Only one thing was certain, time was up.  He saw lapses of flames engulfing the sides of the BMW and could feel himself being lifted off the car floor. It was as if he was suspended in the air for a moment. Frozen in time, floating in mid-air, defying the laws of gravity. For a brief second, he saw the grey of the carpet, then everything faded to black.

…..

Present-day:

Thunder rumbled overhead and lightning streaked across the sky as Adrian drove carefully to the hotel where Tasha and Jason would be staying. A heavy torrent of rain enveloped the Mercedes, the windshield wipers swiping back and forth furiously to wipe the drops of rain off the glass. For Tasha and Jason, the sudden weather change was unexpected as it was bright and sunny out that morning when they first arrived. They learned from Tarek that unexpected rain showers were something to be expected here in Krudia. After driving for over an hour they finally arrived at their destination.

They pulled up in front of the marble stone building. The exterior of the hotel was very beautiful with iron balconies attached to each suite. The building was also heavily detailed with stone carvings and columns. There were also two Ravenna fountains on either side of the portes-cochère, each one surrounded by a colorful assortment of flowers such as carnations, chrysanthemums, and hydrangeas. Tarek, Jason, and Tasha stepped out of the car. Tarek retrieved their belongings from the back and set them on the sidewalk next to Tasha and Jason.

“Thanks for driving us here,” Jason said.

“And for getting our luggage,” Tasha added.

“Certainly, anything for Dalmar’s associates. We’ll be seeing you Saturday evening. Good afternoon.” 

“Good afternoon,” Tasha and Jason each replied in succession.

Tarek climbed in the car and the Mercedes pulled away.

“Let’s get out of this rain before we get soaked,” Jason said as he picked up their bags and headed for the entrance.

“I think it may be a little too late for that,” Tasha stated as she glanced at their drenched clothes. 

Jason and Tasha both laughed and made a dash for the front door. They stepped into the lobby and walked over to the front desk, where they were greeted with a receptionist’s cheery welcome. 

“Good evening Madam, Monsieur. Welcome to The Chardell”

“Hello, I’m Melinda Tylerson and this is Edward Delucas. We have reservations.”

The hotel clerk opened the hotel’s registry on the computer and scanned the list of names.

“Let me see, Tylerson...Delucas….Ah yes, you have booked rooms 202 and 204.” The clerk retrieved the keys and handed them to Tasha and Jason.

“Here are your keys.”

“Thanks” Jason responded as he took both of them. “Here you go, Melinda.”

“Thank you, Edward.”

“The bell boy will bring your luggage up to your rooms.” The receptionist pressed down on the service bell.

A young teenage boy emerged from the curtains behind the desk.

“Yes, Mr. Perot.”

“Henrie, take Mr. Delucas’ and Ms. Tylerson’s luggage to their quarters. It’s rooms 202 and 204.”

“Of course sir.” Henrie bent down and grabbed their suitcases.

“Right this way.”

“Thanks,” Jason replied.

“Thank you.”

Tasha, Jason, and Henrie began making their way to the elevator. As they walked Tasha and Jason took in the sights around them. The inside of the hotel was breathtaking, even more lovely than the outside of the establishment. The floors were made of stunning Carrara marble and along the walls striking paintings of various styles hung. Ornate gold carvings lined the windows and doors. Beautifully carved marble statues were also placed throughout the hotel. In the lobby, there was a fireplace in front of which a walnut victorian sofa, two-hand carved chairs, and side tables were placed. The hotel even had a spa, restaurant, exercise room, and pool. 

Once on the second floor, the three of them first made their way to room 202.

“Here is your suite Ms. Tylerson,” Henrie said as he opened the door for her.

“Thank you,” she replied as she entered the room. Henrie followed behind and placed her suitcases on the luggage rack. He then exited the room and opened the suite next to it which was room 204. 

“And here is your room Mr. Delucas.”

“Thanks,” Jason responded as went into the suite. Henrie entered and then also placed Jason’s belongings on the baggage rack. 

“Will that be all?” Henrie asked as he turned to Jason.

“Yes, that’s everything.” 

“Of course sir. I hope you have a wonderful stay here. If you ever need anything don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Thanks,” Jason replied.

“I’ll be off then” Henrie turned to leave.

“Wait, before you go,” Jason said as he reached into his pocket to grab his wallet.

Henrie turned back around. “Yes sir?”

 Jason pulled out several dollars. “This is for you,” he said as he placed the money in the boy’s hand.

Henrie’s face lit up. “Thank you so much,” he replied, his voice full of gratitude. 

“Don’t mention it” Jason responded as he placed his wallet back in his pocket.

“Thanks again,” Henrie said before turning and making his way out the door.

As he passed her room Tasha, who was standing in her room’s doorway, called out to Henrie.

“Henrie!”

“Yes, Ms. Tylerson.”

“A little something for you,” Tasha spoke as she held out some money.

“Thank you. You both are so generous” Henrie replied, taking the money, his smile even wider.

“Thank you. You’re very sweet. I hope you have a wonderful rest of your day.”

“And you as well.”

Henrie walked down the hall toward the elevator leaving Tasha and Jason alone. Tasha walked over to Jason’s suite.

“I must say these suites are lovely.” Tasha said as she entered the room, “They’re definitely much better than most places I’ve stayed. And believe me, I’ve stayed in quite a few places over the last couple of years.” 

“I know right. This suite is incredible!” He said, looking about the room which had a large window that overlooked the skyline of the city with mountains in the distance. There was a large mahogany bed with tufted bedding and a crystal chandelier that hung from the ceiling. The walls were lined with ornate wooden panels and expensive impressionist paintings. Jason continued, “It’s not every day you get to stay in a hotel room with such fine works of impressionism.”

“So you know your art?” Tasha said playfully. 

Jason shrugged. “Somewhat I suppose. My mother loves art. She pretty much knows all the styles and artists. Everything I know I got from her,” he paused remembering, “and from the two of us visiting art galleries together.”

“That’s very sweet,” Tasha smiled.

Jason smiled as well. “Yeah, my mom, she’s really amazing.”

Jason stood there for a moment, as he suddenly realized just how much he missed her. Her smile, her laugh, the feeling of her warm hugs, nothing compared to them. It had been quite some time since he had last seen his mom and dad. He quickly snapped out of his reverie. There would be time to see them later for now he had to focus his whole attention on completing this assignment. Right now he couldn’t afford to have any distractions.

“Well, I better go unpack and then get some rest. I’m exhausted.” Tasha spoke.

“Sure. I was planning on doing the same myself. A seventeen-hour flight can really wear a person out.”

“Yes, it certainly can. Sleep well, Edward.”

“You too Melinda.” 

Tasha exited the room and closed the door behind her, leaving Jason to unpack his luggage.

…..

Outside The Chardell, a man sat in a dark car with tinted windows, listening to a woman speaking over his comms.

“Black Hawk, this is Red Sparrow. Do you copy” 

“Coming in loud and clear” he responded as he glanced outside his car window.

“Do you have eyes on the targets?”

“Affirmative. The man and woman are now in The Chardell.  I have eyes on them through the second-story windows.” 

“Very good. Continue monitoring their movements. If anything significant happens contact me immediately.”

“Will do.”

The woman ended the call and sat back in her leather chair. She glanced down at the photo on her oak desk. It was a picture of her and her father. She smiled as she thought of all the wonderful times they had shared together. Her favorite memory was of the two of them in his office playing chess. Every day she’d go there around noon. The chessboard and pieces would be all set up on a table in the center of the office, and they would play there for hours. He taught her everything he knew. He showed her that the game was not about luck but strategy. When to advance and when to hold back. How to know your opponents and anticipate their moves. When she was eight she thought he was only talking about the game but now she knew he was also talking about life. She shifted her gaze to the chessboard displayed on a bookcase to the left side of the room. She smirked. All the pieces were falling in place; it was just a matter of continuing to make the right moves. Whatever happened she still held the queen; she knew the players from the pawns.

@btv-grace @theaiofancaster

[colossalsummer]

KOTLC book one READ ALONG part 2 of 5

I read the first Keeper of the Lost Cities book and annotated every page. Here are the highlights. (Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3/ Part 4/ Part 5)

Chapter 11

Tiergan: “I’ll see you Tuesday.” This is a weird thing to focus on, but… they have a seven day week like we do?

Soooo okay okay okay why are they giving her a top-level education gratis? Do they plan to use her once she graduates? Nothing in life is free.

Sophie: “What am I supposed to tell my family? They’re not going to let me disappear every day with no explanation.” Alden: “About that, Sophie. You and I need to have a talk.” OH-HO the truth come out

The sorrow in his eyes made her feel like she’d swallowed something slimy. Clearly, it wasn’t going to be a pleasant conversation. Ah—so this is a kidnapping. Cool.

Her registry pendant, Della explained. Everyone had to wear one, so they could be easily found. Oh so a collar. I’ll be ditching that come time for the revolution

Sophie: “But… why does anyone work, then—if they already have money?” Della: “What else would we do with our time?” Sophie: “I don’t know. Something fun?” Della: “Work is fun.” Spoken like somebody who’s never worked retail on Black Friday. Some work is dangerous and boring. Who’s doing that stuff?

Chapter 12

Alden: “Now that the Council knows you exist, they’ve ordered that you move here. Effective immediately.” Oh, I see. A kidnapping.

She didn’t belong in the human world, and she was tired of pretending she did. It feels a little messed up for all these elves to keep insisting that she doesn’t belong with humans. She probably won’t feel like she totally belongs with elves, either, and then she won’t feel like she fits in anywhere. Y’all gonna give this child a complex.

Sophie: “You’re going to kill me off?” Alden: “As far as your family and the rest of the humans are concerned… yes.” IT IS A KIDNAPPING

Chapter 13

Sophie: “I drugged my family.” Fitz: “You did the right thing.” Sophie: “It doesn’t feel like the right thing.” HELLO *looking around fandom* ARE WE ALL SEEING THIS??

To be honest I don’t have a lot of notes for this chapter because it was just so heartbreaking and distressing. Like I have one note at the end of the chapter and all it says is “oof”

Someone protect this child

Chapter 14

Alden: “Fitz can help you get settled in here while we’re gone.” Sophie: “Here? I’ll be living here?” Sweetie, Fitz can’t be your step-brother ’cause then there won’t be a love triangle

Elwin: “Whoa, that is some serious damage. It’s not permanent… And it’s not your fault. Toxic food, toxic water, toxic air.” Fluoride, smallpox vaccinations, 5G…

Elwin: “Now, try not to let this worry you, but your body needs a major detox. We’ll start with these.” …My essential oils

Chapter 15

Alden: They run an animal preserve at Havenfield, so they always have all kinds of exciting things going on.” COOOL

“We’ve even had to collect endangered species—gorillas, lions, mammoths—”  YES THANK YOU SHANNON

“Grady and Edaline train the animals to be vegetarians by feeding them gnomish produce; that way they won’t hunt one another once they’re moved to the Sanctuary.” mmm good luck obligate carnivores

“Another roar interrupted their conversation. Whatever it was sounded like it wasn’t happy about its new diet plan.” It is dying slowly because it can’t produce its own taurine but OK

Hopefully elf veggies are different than earth veggies. That’s just what I’m going to keep telling myself.

The path lead to a wide meadow, where gnomes were using thick ropes to lasso what looked like a giant lizard covered in neon green feathers. UNNH YES I DON’T DESERVE THIS

Also no wonder nobility work for fun, they got gnomes out here doin’ the dangerous jobs

I’m not going to bore you with my breakdown of this dinosaur reconstruction but as a person who worked in a museum as a paleontology educator these bits are the most exciting parts of the book for me. I rate this tyrannosaur 6/10 for scientific accuracy and 10/10 for handsomeness. Shannon Messenger gets 20/10 for popularizing feathered theropods.

…she couldn’t decide if he reminded her more of James Bond or Robin Hood—which felt wrong. He was so unlike her chubby, balding dad she wasn’t sure how to relate. Sophie, meet your new, hotter dad.

Chapter 16

At Sophie’s nod she conjured up a bowl of orange glop and a spoon. Why do elves eat so much goo? This whole time it’s been nothing but goo

Della: “Our world is ‘talent-based’.” AH-HA

Sophie: “Seems kind of unfair.” Yeah, who decides which talents matter and which don’t?

“Get ready to add the amarallitine, Dex.” Oh, I’ve heard of YOU

Grady: “I wouldn’t be surprised if he pushes for you to get transferred to Exillium—and let’s just say it’s somewhere you don’t want to go.” Oh, so there are BAD schools… it all comes together…

So if Edaline and Juline are sisters, is Dex like Sophie’s foster cousin?

Chapter 17

Dex: “The Leapmaster 500. You’re lucky. My parents aren’t nobility, so they’re only authorized to have the 250—it’s missing tons of cool places.” Like bad Netflix. I don’t love that this society limits where poor people can go.

Dame Alina: “First and foremost, whoever put the reekrod in my desk over the weekend will—It’s not funny!” *the camera slowly zooms in on Dex*

A spotlight focused on Sophie. Well, first day ruined. Only took fifteen minutes.

Her name hissed around the room like a viper’s nest. “Ssssssophie.” 

Stina: “You left it open, idiot. I guess remembering to close doors is too hard for the son of a bad match to remember.” Ah wonderful, eugenics. I love elf school

Chapter 18

“Mastering all the elements is one of the steps toward entering the nobility.” Everything changed when the Fire Nation attacked

“Dude.” Is this a human-obsessed thing or is there straight-up an elvish word for dude

Sophie: “What exactly is a ‘bad match’?” Marella: “A couple that was ruled genetically incompatible. Usually that means their kids will be inferior.” THERE ARE SCREENINGS??

Sophie: “What’s Exillium?” Marella: “The school where they send the hopeless cases.” Yep I want to go there

Chapter 19

Telepaths were in high demand. Once she’d proven trustworthy, she’d receive assignments from the Council. OH OKAY so they send her to wizard school and when she graduates they don’t miss a beat, just scoop her on up and enlist her

If a prodigy hadn’t manifested by Level Four, they might be expelled—and even if they stayed at Foxfire, they couldn’t take the elite levels, which meant they’d never be nobility. Most ended up working class.

But once again it didn’t escape her notice that Grady avoided telling her what his special ability was. It couldn’t be something bad. Could it? The man has dinosaurs so if he was going to do something bad I feel like he’d have done it already

Chapter 20

Sophie: “Prentice?” Marella: “Yeah. He was this supertalented Telepath, but he got exiled like twelve years ago.” Oh as old as I am hm how interesting go onnn…

Lady Galvin: “Don’t you know anything about alchemy?” FFFF that’s why I’m HERE you old BAG

Lady Galvin: “Dame Alina probably thinks this is funny, forcing me to teach such basic serums. Well, I won’t have it.” You know, you aren’t getting paid, you can quit. I don’t mind.

“I’m Keefe.” Will this bad boy help us lead the resistance?

Keefe: “Did you do any damage?” Sophie: “Only her cape.” Keefe: “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Do you have any idea how epic that is?” I really like this lil anarchist.

Keefe: “Destroyed Galvin’s cape.” Elwin: “Wish I could’ve seen that!” I’m recruiting this man for the rebellion. Keefe and Elwin get sorted in the Chaotic Good pile for the day of reckoning.

Stay tuned for Part 3.