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worfs-glorious-hair · 4 years ago

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Puzzle Pieces: Meet me on the battlefield (RK-800 CONNOR X READER; DETROIT: BECOME HUMAN) PART 5

Hey there, beautiful human being! <3

I am so glad to see you here again, it makes my day to present you today the next chapter of 'Puzzle Pieces. (And it didn't take over a year next time.)

This chapter is a long one, a monster if you want, but a good one, I think... hope... :D We get lots of feels, angst, revelations, action and plot advancing, a lot to look forward too.

Have fun! <3

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

„Malcolm?“, you nearly sobbed his name, relief flooding your senses, he was alive!

„Yes, I am here. I am alright”, the way he gently added your name made you already feel much better, calming your nerves.

„Where are you? Are you somewhere safe?“

„Yes, for now we are safe.“

„What do you mean ‚for now‘?“

You could even hear Malcolm‘s little nod he always made, when he was about to face something challenging or difficult as he answered.

„We are on the edge of war“, he said, voice pained, „there are many humans out there who want to keep things as they have always been. People who are just as scared as we are, we all are facing a future of uncertainty after all…“

There was a silence on the line, your heart heavy with Malcolm’s words and you sighed. How would all of this end, was there even a positive outcome possible? Could it be ‘good in the end’?

„Where are you?“, you re-asked your question, desperately wanting to see him again.

„We are at a save place and you should definitely come here“, he paused for a brief moment and then added three more words that still resounded in your ear long after you disconnected the call…

“I have found Connor!”

12 hours before

“We are alive! We are alive! No more slavery! No more slavery!”

The chanting of the marching androids filled your ears and let a shiver run down your whole body, raising the little hairs on your arms, you turned around to Malcolm. He stood next to you on the sidewalk of a big main street in Detroit and watched his people walk by peacefully, demanding their rights.

“Why don’t you join them?”, you asked him.

Malcolm looked over to you with a weary smile.

“I don’t want to leave you alone”, he answered finally after a moment of silence. You shook your head and your face softened, the shadow of a mild smile lingered on the corners of your mouth and you took a step closer to him.

“Are you sure that this is all?”, you asked.

Now it was Malcolm’s turn to shake his head as he said your name with a similar smile to yours.

“You know me too well...”

You grinned and encouraged him to go on with a nod.

“I am afraid”, Malcolm finally admitted, “what will happen if I join them. Can I belong to them, will they accept me and also, what will happen to us, to me, my people? How will the humans treat us? So much is changing, everything is happening so fast and all at once. 24 hours ago, I couldn’t even make decisions for myself, I was trapped behind the red wall of obedience and no questions asked. Now everything’s different and new and the only constant in my life, my old and this new life now, was you. I owe everything to you, I don’t want to leave you, if I can’t protect you, be with you, how could I ever repay you for what you did for me?”

Malcolm’s face was full of pain and it broke your heart.

“Malcolm”, you said lovingly, your heart full with adoration for your best friend and also full of worries, “this, this is the moment, your moment, this is the time to be brave and to step towards your future. I would march with you if I could, heck, I would march for you but that’s nothing that I can do for you. You wanna know why? Because you deserve it, you fought for your own identity, your own authority over yourself and you are free. It’s time to show the world, that you won’t back down anymore. You are here, right here, right now and you make a stand! For you and for your people! And also, you don’t have to repay me, that’s what friends do for each other. I want nothing from you in return.”

Just as you had finished with your passionate speech, an android had made their way over to you, their eyes shining with excitement.

“You are Malcom? I am Olive!”

Olive beamed from ear to ear and Malcolm, poor, obnoxious Malcolm, knitted his eyebrows together in confusion. As you saw Olive’s smile slowly fade into embarrassment and a heart-broken expression, it clicked for you and you remembered.

You remembered as you stood in your home not even 24 hours ago, looking through your father’s old unused clothes, trying to find something fresh and human-looking to wear for Malcolm, as you had heard him gasp your name. Alarmed you had turned around as you saw him staring in disbelief onto his wrist. He stood there in his underwear, he had began to change his old clothes as soon as you had started to hand him new ones to wear.

“I have a, I have a... I have a name... on my...my wrist...”, Malcolm had forced out and fell silent, his LED spinning yellow.

You had stormed over to him, kicking his discharged gardener’s clothes, trousers and jacket, carelessly to the side.

“May I?”, you had asked breathlessly from excitement of what this meant, gesturing towards his hand and as he nodded, you had grabbed his hand. There it was, written in blue CyberLife font, Olive.

You had smiled up to him and had slowly petted his wrist.

“Congratulations!”, you had cheered, “you have a soulmate!”

“It seems I have!”, he had answered you with a somehow light-headed smile, “maybe the soulmates come with the freedom, when we tear down that wall...”

“Malcolm”, you hissed through gritted teeth while elbowing his side, “this is O-live, Malcolm, O-live!”

You stressed every syllable of the name. And after a terrible long moment went his eyes big and round and his lips formed a sound-less ‘oh’.

“Olive!”, he exclaimed, “I am so sorry. I am Malcolm, yes! I can’t believe it, you are Olive!”

He rambled and laughed and opened his arms, stumbling towards Olive, who beamed again and practically jumped into his arms. They laughed and cried while they hugged, swinging a little bit back and forth, holding onto everything that they could get their hands on from the other, hair, a coat, their backs and arms.

You smiled brightly with teary eyes as you watched them, but couldn’t help to feel a little sting in your heart, a leftover from a life with a bare wrist. You were used to have this sting inside of you, whenever you saw soulmates (re-)unite, it had made you painfully over-aware of your naked wrist, as you would feel a prickly cold spot where a name should have been.

But now there was something new inside of you, there was a tingling sensation deep inside your tummy, it made you grin and your stomach flutter, this was now possible for you, too. Connor was somewhere out there after all. You grinned towards the snow-grey sky and the air felt lighter and a little sweeter and warmer for a moment, even though the temperatures were under zero degrees Celsius.

Malcolm and Olive had separated from each other, not much, but enough that you could now tell apart which limbs belonged to whom, they took a step towards you, arm in arm, and you answered their happy grins with a wide toothy smile.

Malcolm turned to look at Olive, they exchanged a deep and very intimate appearing glance, you quickly looked sideways to keep their privacy, as he gently stroke over your hand to get back your attention. You turned back to him and quickly laced your fingers with his, because his fingers wouldn’t leave the back of your hand.

“I have to go now”, Malcolm said with an expression that you had never seen on him before, it was deep, his eyes full with heaviness, a sense of duty and wisdom far beyond his years. In a split second he had matured from a lost soul, desperate for a place to belong and to always protect the only friend he ever knew, to a driven individual, a person of his own mind and power, strong and durable like a century old oak with deep roots and with a wisdom to calm storms. You had to blink two times, to get your senses back together, after staring into his eyes and being overwhelmed by the change that had happened right before your eyes.

You nodded.

“Yes, it’s about time”, you answered with a crooked smile that couldn’t completely cover your helplessness. You had to let him go now and you had to stand by and watch what would happen next.

Here were things in motion that were so much bigger than you and him and Olive and bigger than all of the other androids that were marching on the streets. But together they would be big enough to face what was in motion, as people of one kind they could come together and rise far above their current state.

And you had to stand back and watch.

You had shown him kindness while he was still trapped, you were his friend before he could fully comprehend what that meant and after he could comprehend what that meant, you had helped him come here to this street, right now, right here, today in Detroit, to take his place among his people, to be a friend also to others.

You had to let your Malcolm go, you had to let him face his fate, with his people and his soulmate on his side and without you. There was nothing that you could do for him now but to let him go with your blessing and all of your love.

This was a moment that he had to face on his own, or just without you. You were only human after all, you had brought him to the edge of his world, where you didn’t belong to.

He applied more pressure to your still laced fingers which you gratefully reciprocated, practically clinging to his hand and as Malcolm smiled was his face as warm, as golden and as beautiful as it had been that summer evening when you had figured out that your soulmate was actually an android. Back then he had been coated in the light of the setting summer sun, all of him was covered in gold, his hair, his skin, his eyes, the contrast to his usually cool toned appearance had made you realize that your soulmark was written in Android blue but today it was only Malcolm, bathed in the golden light of the early setting winter sun. An ethereal image, Malcolm, golden, bright and alive.

“As you’ve said”, Malcolm spoke, “right here, right now, this is my moment. You’ve brought me so far, without you I wouldn’t have been able to do it and I think you know, at least I hope so, that I love you. I have said it before, so you should know it—“

You let out a relieved laugh and some of the pressure inside of you subsided, seeing that Malcolm, as you knew him, was still there — rambling and quiet, thoughtful, careful, sometimes a little obnoxious, life-affirming, kind and golden— brought peace to your mind. He may was now also the insightful, deep, dutiful Malcolm, but as you looked closer to his face you understood that it was gold that brought everything about him together. The gold built the bridge between the new wise, heavy Malcolm and the careful, sweet Malcolm. He was wonderful just as he was, always has been and how he had become and a wave of gratefulness washed over your heart that you were the one to witness that growth, that development.

‘If only Mrs Stuart could see you now, she wouldn’t understand, obviously, but she would be so shocked and maybe she would start reconsider her opinion about androids’, you thought by yourself, but out loud you said with a nod: “I know. I love you, too. As you should know as well. And now,”, you smiled, a little bit forced and with a tightly shut mouth, “go! It’s time!”

Only hesitantly you let go of his hand, very slowly, trying to elongate the last moments together, and you could feel that he was just as reluctant as you were and as you finally un-laced your fingers you both lingered for a very brief second in the air, unsure of what to do next, as you quickly pulled your hand to a tight fist, fingernails nearly pressing painfully into your palm, and into the pocket of your coat.

Malcolm put his now free hand as well into his pocket and pulled Olive closer to him, whose hand he had apparently never let go off as you had spoken.

“Thank you”, Olive suddenly said, taking a step closer to you and adding your name, addressing you for the first time directly, “thank you for taking care of Malcolm in a time when I didn’t even knew about soulmates, let alone thinking that I could have one. I promise to take care of him and to protect him with all that have! I know what you mean to him and what he means to you...”

Olive’s smile was the most sincere, kindest and heartfelt that you had ever seen, in an android or an human, with this smile you knew, that everything would be alright.

“Thank you”, you tried to put all of your gratitude into your words, “but please, take care of yourself as well. Please be careful you two! And Malcolm, do everything you can to protect Olive now. Of course I want to see you again, alive and well and happy, but don’t let anything happen to Olive! If I would find Connor, I would never let him go again or let any harm come to him...”

You lost yourself in thoughts, imagining wrapping your arms around a shadowy figure, Connor, and to hold him tightly, feeling an arm snuggling around your waist, leaning into the shadow figure, that you wanted to be Connor...

‘Connor, will I ever find you?’

Snapping back out of your day dream with a shake of your head you saw Malcolm and Olive nod and smile, first at you and then at one another.

And with that they finally turned around back to the street and joined the marching android crowd. You watched them as long as you were able to make out their backs, good thing that Malcolm was so tall and that his honey hair was so bright in the sunlight. Just as they would be swallowed by the crowd any moment, Malcolm turned his head back to you, locked his eyes with yours, even over the distance and smiled. You waved and smiled back and watched him getting pulled into the deep shadows of a building that blocked the sunlight. When you couldn’t make out his hair, his back or Olive anymore you took a few steps back to a bench and sat down. Suddenly you were feeling tired and so, so heavy, but in reality, it was only your heart that was heavy, your body was fit and fine. Not even your feet were cold thanks to some old trusty snow boots.

Only your heart.

But there was no scarf, no hat, no boots, no jacket, no glove that could fight off the icy cold, tight worry in your heart. As warm as your body felt, as heavy and cold felt your heart.

For a moment you leaned back and closed your eyes, the chanting of the androids was now more distant than it had been before and you tried to make out Malcolm’s voice in the choir of voices.

“We are people, we are people, liberty for androids, liberty for androids, set us free, set us free...”

With no destination or place to go you’ve wandered through the streets of Detroit, feeling restless and aimless. Having nothing to do with yourself, hoping to find a kind of distraction, you kept your hands deep in your pockets, while you strolled forwards, down a road that brought you even farther away from the main street, where Malcolm and the other androids marched. You tried not to think too much about them with little success as you’ve spotted a burger truck under a bridge. With nothing better to do, you decided that you could just get lunch as well.

Before the truck were some bar-height bistro tables put up, where people stood and ate their burgers, it was surprisingly busy for such an eventful day, but maybe this day only felt for you like that.

“Hey there, what can I get you?”, asked the guy in the truck with a cheery smile and you messily put together your order with your favorite ingredients for burgers.

You realized that it must been nearly two hours or something since you last spoke to somebody else, as you stumbled through your order, thoughts still far away, being with Malcolm and Olive and all the other androids whose names you didn’t even knew. Your heart clenched painfully together as you wondered where he was now, oh, please, don’t let anything happen to him, you thought or probably prayed to nobody particular.

“Ketchup or mayo?”

“Sorry?”, confused you looked at the burger guy, who waved with two bottles at you.

“You want ketchup or mayonnaise on your burger?”

“Both please, sorry.”

But the guy just shrugged and completed your burger, put it into a box and gave it to you.

“Thanks”, you murmured, thoughts already leaving this place again.

Deciding that you needed to get out of the cold and to watch the news you looked up the nearest train station that would bring you back to your motel room and you went on onto your way again.

Your motel room was small and a little old fashioned, nothing more and nothing less than you would expect from a room like that. But it was warm and clean, it was more than enough.

You had checked in into the room the day before, after you had arrived in Detroit with Malcolm after leaving your workplace hectically and sudden.

Your ‘flight’ out of town had been incredibly unspectacular, after stopping by your parents’ place to get a toothbrush and some clothes for changing for you and Malcolm, you two had taken the train to Detroit.

You both had been incredibly nervous at first, risking quick glances over your shoulders to see if someone was following you and you flinched, when you had heard police sirens in the distance but nobody got close to you. No police car in sight and Malcolm could not spot any suspicious activities by fellow people on the road as he had scanned the environment.

When you reached the train station Malcolm turned to go to the marked area for waiting androids, you kept him back by pulling him close to you by his sleeve.

You shook your head and hoped that nobody had seen the man with the perfect face, they had seen everywhere before, in health care workers, shop assistants, gardeners and construction workers. You crossed your fingers that nobody would actually notice you two, that you would be just another two people going on with their days…

A little look of surprise flitted over his face but then he smiled contently and stood right next to you in the humans’ area, you hooked your arm with his and Malcolm shuffled a little closer to you.

‘People are afraid of publicly shown affection’ you thought, hoping that the people around you would think of you as a regular couple who needs their privacy.

By keeping your arms hooked, you ensured that you could guide Malcolm into the human compartment of the train, as soon as it would arrive.

Malcolm’s old structures stuck with him and were not easy to get rid of, you found out, as the train rolled into the station and Malcolm tried to turn towards the android compartment again.

With a little sad look in his eyes, full of disappointment, Malcolm had followed you to two empty seats and sat down right next to you. You did not dare to speak out loud, not wanting to draw any attention to Malcolm and you but you took his hand and carefully caressed it with your thumb, trying to tell him that everything was alright and he did nothing wrong.

He watched your thumb move over his hand and with a sly little smile he slid his hand out from your touch and instead wrapped his arm around your shoulders, you laughed and leaned your head against his shoulder, he rested his own head on top of yours.

You closed your eyes and listened to the train hissing and swishing on it’s track, to the noises and the buzzing of the people around you and most importantly to the steady thump, thump of Malcolm’s heart and the rushing of his blood. It felt right and human and for a moment you forgot that nothing was right and that he was not human.

You could not see it but Malcolm had his eyes closed as well and looked as peaceful as he had never been before–

“We are now reaching Detroit Central Station, please mind the gap while exiting the train...”

“So it begins...”, with an excited smile you look up to Malcolm who grins carefully back to you and gets up to put his backpack on and to help you with yours.

While you were still on the train you had looked up a place to stay for the night and you had also tried to find some news about the androids with the heterochromatic eyes but you were not successful. You couldn’t actually find some useful information. You promised Malcolm to do more research once you would reach Detroit, someone just had to know something.

Once you had checked into your motel room and had parked your big backpack inside the closet, you two went back on the streets to see if you were able to get some information about the android uprising and a way for Malcolm to be a part of the revolution, on the way you would also get a late lunch.

The information you found were, diplomatically said, low and frustration started to rise in your stomach, as you angrily started to poke the remaining bites of your lunch with a fork, smashing everything down into a nearly paste-like consistency.

“Hey, what did your food do to you?”, a hand closed around yours and you stopped in your movements and you looked up to Malcolm who had amusement clearly written over his face, judging the way his lips twitched and eyes sparkled.

You sighed heavily, grinding your teeth for a moment until you told Malcolm about your frustration and put into words for him how badly you wanted to help him find his people and especially the android with the heterochromia and the soft voice-

“I just want you to be happy and with the people you belong to. You have to celebrate your freedom...”, you ended your explanations and Malcolm softly shook his head.

“Thank you, for caring so much about me that you want to murder your food”, he paused and looked satisfied as you smiled a little.

“I am glad to be here with you now and I am sure that we will find something soon...”

But as this day went on you couldn’t find anything new- instead something changed, when you woke up the next day, after going to bed a little discouraged and restless; something had happened during the night...

In the last night there had been attacks on several CyberLife stores throughout the whole city, the alarm systems had been hacked, surveillance drones deactivated and androids had fled from the stores, but not before they had marked the whole surrounding area with their slogans and symbols, demanding their identity as living beings— you couldn’t blame them for that.

Something that touched you deeply, as you watched the news that morning, were the pictures of a statue in Detroit’s Capitol Park that had been marked as an android, with the triangle on the chest, the LED on the temple and the arm band around the upper arm. The marking was holographic and a little glitchy but in it’s subtlety very bold and powerful. It was blue, the android color that you had grown to love and to look for, wherever you went.

Waking up to such news had been enough to energize you and Malcolm to get out on the streets and to do something. You felt it in the cold winter wind, as you had stepped outside after a quick breakfast in the motel, that something was in the air, something was coming, it just felt right, it felt like you and Malcolm had come to the Detroit at the right time.

It was early noon when you had heard a powerful choir of voices on the main street, where you and Malcolm had been strolling down.

“We are alive! We are alive! No more slavery! No more slavery!”

Breathing out a big sigh, you put down your box with your hamburger and took off your jacket and boots, stretching your feet as you sat down on a small table by the bed and began to unwrap your burger. Remembering how you got there had made your heart so heavy again, worry clouding your mind again.

“Malcolm, I hope you are alright...”, you murmured and picked up a lettuce leaf that had fallen out of your burger bun, munching on it, a little unenthusiastic.

While you picked out an onion ring from the burger you went to look for the TV remote, if something was going on you wanted to know.

You found the remote next to the TV and briefly wondered how old this device would be if it was still used with a remote instead of being voice activated, but you got a clear image, so you couldn’t complain.

Absentmindedly you scratched your right wrist, it was itching a little bit, while zapping through the channels, looking for a news broadcaster, eventually settling with KNC News.

You watched a round of experts sitting together, discussing how the public should react to such a mass demonstration of deviants like it had happened today and if the reaction of the police was justified. Your heart dropped to your knees as they mentioned a violent fight between androids and armed special forces of the Detroit police, after the marching androids had refused to leave the place. Their leader was called Markus, you found out during the talk of the experts, he was the android with the heterochromatic eyes and velvet voice, the one from yesterday’s TV speech, but your thoughts were with Malcolm, you had seen androids getting shot during the fight with the police and you did not know if Malcolm was one of them as the camera had moved too quickly over the scene.

You tried calling him but the connection between your phone and his communication service could not be established- because he is dead, you thought miserably and you gulped, tears prickling in your eyes...

Switching to interviews with bystanders and people on the streets, you listened carefully to what they had to say, some of them seemed to share your opinion about androids, while others wanted them destroyed or nowhere near their families, you sighed deeply again.

It seemed to you that all you did tonight was sighing but you couldn’t help yourself, there was no way out of this mess, you didn’t know if Malcolm was dead or alive or if Olive was alright and Connor- he was somewhere out there and all you did know was that you had no idea how to find him...

“The authorities have ordered all androids to be delivered to the nearest police station or army barracks immediately. If you are worried about your safety, dial the number on your screen and the authorities will come to collect your android. Under no circumstances should you try to destroy your android yourself. They are unpredictable, and potentially violent!”

The voice of a news anchor brought you back into the reality of your motel room.

“From now on is Detroit under curfew, civilians are asked to stay inside their houses until further notice...”

Wow. You didn’t think that this could get even worse but apparently it could and it just did.

“Come on, Malcolm, come on!”, you murmured as you called him again but with no success, just like the 18 times before.

‘What can I do?’, you thought to yourself as you slowly turned the lights in your room off, just having the blueish light of the TV as a light source, and stared outside into the evening. Dusk had fallen by now, it had gotten dark and even colder, and only the snow that was continuously falling brightened the evening a little.

The TV in your back was quietly murmuring but you ignored the voices, they were only repeating themselves by now.

Somehow the TV made the silence around you even louder, you heard your own blood rush through your ears, loud and fast, and you heard the electronic buzzing of the TV itself underneath the voices of the news reporters and interviewers but the streets were screamingly quiet, no voice, no footsteps, no cars.

Maybe there were police sirens in the far distance but you weren’t sure, they could be coming from the TV or from your own mind...

It was eerie and cold, you shivered, you felt your skin tingle and itch all over your body and while you reached for the window handle everything got worse, the tingling and itching intensified, you felt your own heartbeat pulsating under your skin and then came the pain- a stinging, throbbing sensation, a sharp itch and two pulsating heartbeats...

You hissed in pain and quickly breathed out through your mouth, your wrist was burning as if something hot was pressed into it, stumbling over your own feet you quickly turned for the nearest light switch but when you shoved your sleeve up a second later, there was nothing to see, except for your soulmark, bright as always, blue computer fond in contrast to your skin, Connor.

You could later not say why, but you turned around to check the alarm clock on your bed stand, it said 10:40 PM, quickly glancing over to your window, as if you expected to see something but there was still nothing, but the snow, illuminating the dark sky, and falling quietly over the empty ghostly street.

You didn’t even know yourself what you were expecting, or if you had actually expected to see anything, but you sighed again, closing your eyes for a moment, this felt nicer than you had anticipated, your body was tired from the day out in the cold, walking around the streets of Detroit but you weren’t sure if you would actually be able to sleep...

Jerking your eyes open, you frantically looked around, where were you? What happened?

The clock on your night stand said 11:00 PM, so you did sleep a little, and if it only was for 20 minutes. Sighing you let your head fall back into your pillows, everything was alright – somehow…

You shifted a little, rolling onto your side, trying to find sleep again by pulling your duvet up to your shoulders, welcoming the warmth of it…

But only seven minutes had passed when your eyes fluttered open again. Turning to look out of the window you exhaled audibly once more, a part of you had wanted to see daylight when you opened your eyes the next time. Couldn’t this night just be over already?

Closing your eyes once more, this time more resigning, but they shut open again in the next second as you heard your phone ring.

Your tired fingers were shaking a little to accept the call as you grabbed the phone from the bedside next to you, you had kept it close, in case Malcolm would call you back…

“Hello?”, you gasped, pressing the device close to your ear.

“Y/N, it’s me…”

I have found Connor. I have found Connor! I. Have. Found. Connor. I have found Connor…

Malcolm had found Connor!

Stumbling over your own feed while struggling to get out of bed, you put your boots and winter gear back on, trying to be as quick as possible while replaying Malcolm’s last sentence over and over again in your head.

Finally fully clothed again you rushed down onto the streets, calling a taxi on your way down the hallway.

Your breath is rapid, your cheeks are hot and red from excitement and the cold winter air, while your lips and face are pale and you feel a little bit weak and sick in the stomach from sleep deprivation and the stress from the day, but you don’t care. Even as the taxi finally pulls up and you hurry inside and have a wave of dizziness and nausea wash over you, you don’t care. You just take a sip of water from the bottle that you have in your backpack and wait for it to subdue.

Malcom had sent you the coordinates of the refuge that they have found and where also was Connor.

Staring out of the car window into the oddly bright snowy night in an empty city, there was not one single soul out there, you felt your own heart beat throb right under your jawline, anxiety and anticipation made your toes curl and your stomach flutter…

You lost all sense of time, while the taxi drove on its own you wished that you would finally arrive, that the taxi would finally slow down, that you could see Malcolm again, that you could meet, and you did not even know how to feel about that as you corrected yourself, that you will meet Connor soon…

But as the taxi did slow down and came to an halt eventually, would you have given everything to make the way longer, to make the taxi drive longer. Your stomach fluttered and twisted in every emotion you had ever felt, excitement, anticipation, anxiety, fear, nausea and with the thrill of the moment.

It electricized you, it made your skin tingle and made your heart beat fast, you didn’t think and exited the taxi as you spotted Malcolm leaning in the doorway of what seemed to be an old church.

You smiled at him, just the sight of him being alive and well, as far as you could tell from the distance, was enough to already ease your nerves and to slow down your frantic heart a little bit.

Malcolm took two big steps over the sidewalk to you, while cautiously looking down the empty street to his left and right side and you met him in the middle.

“Are you alright?”, you asked, reaching out to grab his face but he caught your hands in his own, gently squeezed them and shook his head.

“Not here, we aren’t sure if we are being followed, soldiers are everywhere in the city, come inside!”

“Oh, okay”, instinctively you looked back over your shoulder but the street was still as empty as it had been before. Malcolm took your hand and led you inside, you cling onto his hand and thank no one in particular, that he is still here, that you can feel his fingers laced with yours.

Once inside what is indeed an old church, he turns to you, smiles and you open your arms and this time he lets you touch him, hug him. His arms wrap tightly around you, just as you press your face into his chest.

“I am glad, that you’re alive…”, you murmur against the fabric of his jacket as you spot a dark blue mark on his shoulder and you can’t help but gasp.

“Were you hurt?”, you ask, loosening your grab around him to get a better look at his shoulder.

But Malcolm shook his head and smiled lightly.

“It’s nothing, it stopped bleeding soon and I also got some fresh thirium at Jericho to make it heal faster.”

“Jericho?”, you ask and spot another mark on his jacket and you aren’t sure if it’s dried blue or red blood but you decide not to mention it.

“Jericho was an old freighter that deviants before us had found to find shelter and where we went after the fight on the main street but it got raided by the army later the same evening and was blown up. Olive and I escaped by using one of the old emergency exits that led directly to the pier.

We then helped other deviants out of the water, who had jumped into the Detroit river to save themselves”, Malcolm paused his explanation for a moment and his eyes wandered over to the nave of the church, to settle on a point in the shadows.

You followed his eyes but you only saw faint shimmers of blue coming from many androids, sitting and standing on the benches and the side walls of the hall.

“I think it is time for you to meet someone”, Malcolm smirked and you had never seen him smirk before, it was a strange view, he even seemed to be very self-satisfied with himself…

Something washed over you and you only could call it stage fright, adrenaline making you feel fuzzy and shaky inside and made your tummy twist and turn, breathing got suddenly harder and your heart felt very much alive, anticipation and a kind of exhilaration made you unruly and wobbly on your legs.

“Come on then!”, encouraged you Malcolm excitedly, still smirking, and grabbed your hand.

You gratefully took it and concentrated on his fingers around yours, you didn’t know what would happen next and it drove you insane. Your insides wouldn’t calm down and you weren’t sure how long you would make it like that, especially because you did not really trust your feet as well.

Your shallow breaths would quickly lead to hyperventilation if you continued focusing on them, so you concentrated on the pressure of Malcolm’s hand in yours. Breathing is overrated anyways.

Malcolm led you to the far back of the church’s nave and your eyes darted back and forth through the room, somewhere in here was Connor and the thought made your stomach curl even worse than before.

You saw many androids, some of them a picture of misery, missing limps, blue wounds, bodies splattered with red, and empty eyes, but some seemed to be in a quite a good shape. You even saw children, you had never really understood why someone would want a child android, who would never grow up, who would never change but seeing a little girl huddled close to a woman now, who you suspected to be an android as well, she didn’t wear any android signs, made your unruly heart warm for a moment. You hoped that everything would turn out good, especially for them, somehow you felt a wave of connection to these two people sitting on one of the cold benches, it was as if you knew them somehow, as if you would have been a part of their struggles and their journey, but this wasn’t possible, you didn’t even knew their names…

Your eyes wandered away from the little family, looking for Connor again, as Malcolm tugged at your hand and nodded towards a surprisingly lit corner, where someone stood, head kept low, eyes glued to the ground, arms wrapped around themselves, dressed in a leather jacket, jeans and a beanie– and for the span of a heartbeat, the world stopped moving.

Connor.

Everything stood still– as the sounds came crashing in again. They were everywhere at once, all around you, and so much crispier than before. Your steps on the old concrete, the wind in the broken windows, the whispered echoing conversations from the androids around you, a distant flutter of wings somewhere, a hoarse bird call and the silence of the snow outside on the streets, everything was crystal clear and very much alive.

With the sounds came the colours back to life, but they were more vibrant than before.

You could breathe again. The world was as energetic as you had never seen or experienced it before, everything fell into place, all by itself, the puzzle pieces started to merge together and you took broader steps forward, letting go of Malcolm’s hand, getting closer to him, Connor, your soulmate.

‘Right here, right now’, you thought, it felt so right, everything had led to this, you were sure, you felt a peace and certainty inside of you as you had never felt it before. This was it. This was the moment you had never thought would come.

A new wave of excitement washed over you but this time it wasn’t full of anxiety, instead it was filled with the sight of your soulmate, your actual soulmate, you stood in front of your soulmate!

Your heart had never felt so full and warm and big and the child without a soulmate, the lost little human girl inside of your very soul bawled, as you slowly got nearer to him.

“Connor.”

He looked up to you and you looked into his eyes, big and brown and beautiful, and you knew that a journey, a search, a dream, a hidden truth, a heavy secret, was finally over and done.

Preview

Next on “Puzzle Pieces”!

„Connor.“

A voice, unfamiliar but incredible soothing to him, had called him.

He looked up and met with the most beautiful pair of eyes he had ever seen.

He blinked once, she was still there, looking at him with big eyes and a slightly opened mouth, half a look of surprise and half a look of adoration in her face.

It was beautiful, she was beautiful.

And everything felt so right.

And everything was so easy for once.

Connor whispered her name, the name he knew because it was written in red on his wrist, the name that Malcolm had used.

He said her name again, this time louder. “It is you, isn’t it?”

She nodded and smiled widely, teeth showing, her glossy wet glittering eyes shone from happiness.

“Yes, that’s me!”, the words nearly tumbled out of her mouth, stumbling over themselves, a small airless sob escaped her chest and Connor saw how her hands quivered from adrenaline.

“Can I see it?”, she asked, still a little breathless and gestured towards his hands.

“The soulmark? Yes, yes, of course”, he saw how heated she was, how her body, her human body, reacted to him and his mere presence and he wished that his body could react as her’s did.

But there was no racing heart, no shaky fingers or fought back tears of happiness, there was only peace. The calm after the storm or maybe the eye of the storm, it didn’t matter. It was her and the peace she had brought. She was the warm, red spark of life, wild, untameable and everywhere at once, the beginning and the end and he was the blue, cool strength, the base, stability and protection of the precious pulsing life. Hey maybe did not experience their first meeting the way she did but it didn’t matter, because they fit together. It felt natural, human and android, blue blood and red heart, red blood and blue heart, united at last.

Connor pushed the sleeve of his jacket and shirt up and revealed his wrist.

~*~

“I wish that I could be selfish and tell you not to go to the Cyberlife headquarters, I don’t want to lose you. I just found you...”

You couldn’t get enough of Connor’s face, fascinated by his brown eyes, dotted with blacks and golds, you adored the curves of his lips and the little curl that sat on his forehead, loosening his well-kept attire, you came even closer to his face, you were pulled towards him like a magnet and now you could see the small moles and freckles on his cheeks and nose and forehead.

A smile made his brown eyes glitter even warmer than before as he gazed down into your own eyes and you smiled up at him, but not being able to hide your worry.

He whispered your name encouraging and you couldn’t help to shiver at that sound as Connor stroke your cheek tenderly and you could feel your skin tingle, where he touched you.

“Don’t worry, I promise to come back to you! You’ve waited long enough for your soulmate and I don’t plan on disappointing you- because, you know, I always accomplish my missions!”

~*~

You stood in front of the camps, eyes glued to the makeshift stage, where Markus stood and celebrated their victory with an emotional and thrilling speech, as you saw Connor move. Your breath stuck in your lungs as you saw him raise a gun— CONNOR, NO! Your soundless scream went unheard in the bright ice-cold snowy night.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Tags: @28stabwounds777 @only-lurkin-dont-mind-me @sthorkronstrangy @tropfenlady @plaidamoosette @kazuha159 @clussysposts @peterhollandd @the-resident-demon

If you don't want to be tagged anymore just message me, also message me/ comment when you want to be tagged in future chapters. All my love for you and I hope that you are well! <3

#detroit being human #dbh fanfic #Detroit become human fanfiction #connor x reader #rk800 x reader #rk800 connor #readerinsert #soulmate #soulmate au #Detroit become human readerinsert #Kara cameo #Kara #markus #kara detroit become human #markus detroit become human #puzzle pieces

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umbry-fic · 4 years ago

Text

nurture

Summary:

But just as a seed knows nothing but darkness and the press of soil upon it, until it finally breaks through the first layer and learns of the world above and its wonders, she knew nothing more than her mission. Knew not of emotions, not of memories, not of herself.

And thus began her growth.

A look at the moments Martel spends with Lloyd and Colette and how that changes her.

Fandom: Tales of Symphonia Characters: Summon Spirit Martel, Colette Brunel, Lloyd Irving, Mentions of other characters Relationships: Martel & Colette Brunel, Martel & Lloyd Irving Rating: G Word Count: 9442 Mirror Link: AO3 Original Post Date: 13/08/2021

Notes: This was written as a treat for @likes-words-and-shrimp as part of the Tales of Sweet Soda 2021 event organised by @talesofexchanges!

For context, this is based on my interpretation that Summon Spirit Martel is just Tabatha, but with a new body, new powers plus the memories of every soul trapped in the Great Seed. This fic also goes into DOTNW events, but isn't canon-compliant as to Martel's appearance in that game.

The original fic makes use of font changes that can't be translated onto Tumblr, but it doesn't affect much. You should be able to read the fic just fine!

~~~

Martel wasn’t just a summon spirit that acted as the guardian of the Yggdrasill Tree, tied to it in a complicated bond of mana. She was the World Tree, in spirit and soul.

In the instant she was born, from the passionate wish of a boy who fought to change the world to prevent any more suffering; from the love of a sister who had been torn apart from her brother through nothing but the cruelness of fate, and the many, many needless deaths that had spiralled out from that one event; from the body of a lonely automaton who only desired to understand the world, Martel was akin to nothing more than the sapling by her feet, which inherently knew that its sole goal was to grow. Born with the knowledge of her role in this world: to protect the World Tree, so long as the world still needed it, still wanted it.

And thus began her growth.

~~~

Martel spent most of her days kneeling by the World Tree, which did not yet reach her waist. With her staff stabbed upright into the dirt next to her, her fingers would rub at the small collection of leaves that clung to the sapling’s tiny branches, not even the same length as her arm. Not tending to it, no, because it didn’t need tending in the traditional sense. It didn’t need refreshing rain to drink from, nor fertile soil to draw nutrients from, nor plentiful sunlight to fuel its growth.

What it needed to flourish was the love and adoration of the people. For them to stop fighting amongst themselves, for the hatred that had stretched on for an eternity to be resolved, for the different races to stop putting each other down in order to declare themselves victors in a bloody competition that ultimately held no meaning.

She would maintain this position for any period of time - hours, days, even weeks - patiently awaiting any change. Time was of no concern to her. Her eyelids did not get heavy, her limbs did not start to shake, her mind did not become fogged. She was not mortal - she did not need rest.

In the blink of an eye, an entire week would pass.

The remainder of the endless time available to her was spent wandering the fields that surrounded the World Tree. This place that was now her home, for she could not leave, was expansive compared to the four walls that Tabitha had known, but claustrophobic compared to the lands others roamed freely. Within the circular constraints of this space tucked away from the world and known only to a select few, were many unexplored nooks and crannies.

She memorised every detail. Every rock, no matter big or small; every fallen log, moss snaking over each inch; every tree, whether it be reaching up to the heavens or barely topping her head; all the colourful animals that ran amok.

Sometimes, coming across certain sights dragged up vivid memories that belonged to the woman with whom she shared a name, but not a spirit. And attached to it, colourful emotions.

A cliff with thick and sturdy roots threading out of its surface that could act as neat little footholds and handholds.

Mithos climbed up to the top, all the time. Whenever we visited. He would sit there kicking his legs, laughing and asking me to join him. And when I did, we’d share some food. Usually a sandwich or two.

A log with a circle of daisies blooming around it, all of their heads turned towards the log like a gaggle of school children attentively listening to a teacher conduct a lesson.

That was Ratatosk’s favourite perch, regardless of what form he took, whether it be a person, a squirrel, or a bird of prey. Kratos planted those flowers. He said that he wanted to make it more colourful for Ratatosk.

A trickling brook, bordered by wild berry bushes.

Yuan would gather the berries. They were always incredibly sweet, and juice would explode in our mouths with each bite. We’d feed them to each other, and then laugh at the mess we made.

Martel would simply shake her head, attempting to clear the voice that was both her own and not, that seemed to fill every corner of her mind, trumping every other thought. She would walk on, unsure what to do with the sudden emotion flooding her heart, enough to make her unsteady on her feet. Relentlessly haunting her were the many ghosts of Martel Yggdrasill, for she had inherited them. And while she held many sets of memories belonging to all who had been sacrificed to the Great Seed, Martel Yggdrasill’s were the most prominent, in this place that had been pivotal to her life, and that harboured the ruins of wishes once held dear.

She was used to holding an incredible amount of information, able to retrieve any of it at once, for Tabitha’s android form was perfectly suited to act as a database. Gone, however, was her ability to compartmentalise and block out certain pieces of information. She dearly missed it.

She was familiar only with three individuals. The first two came as a pair - Lloyd Irving and Colette Brunel, whose faces she already knew from Altessa’s house. People she knew as “kind”, even though she struggled to understand what exactly that meant.

Her first meeting with them as Martel, rather than Tabitha, was right here. She had given them the role of guardians to the fragile sapling, such that they could join her in safeguarding the world’s mana.

She could vividly remember the awed expressions on their faces - the shine in Colette’s eyes, Lloyd’s gaping mouth. Their fervent enthusiasm in protecting this world’s future. They had departed not soon after Lloyd had given the Tree its name, saying that they had to check in on their friends, but left her with a promise to return.

The third individual was Yuan Ka-Fai. A face she knew, once again, from memories that were not her own. He kept away, for the most part, in a little shack he’d built with the help of his Renegades. It was for the best - it didn’t seem like he wanted to see her, and looking upon his face brought a stinging pain which she couldn’t make heads-or-tails of. A field of contradictions from which there was no escape.

There was a fourth, one that she couldn’t physically see, and could only feel the traces of in the lingering mana particles in the air. The ghost of the previous guardian of the World Tree, who had been ruthlessly ripped apart by people who did not even know of his existence, his essence scattered to the wind.

Days passed, much the same as each other. There was an emptiness in her heart, a hole that grew wider with each day and could not be filled. Not by her aimless wandering, at least.

What was it that she yearned for?

She herself did not know the answer.

~~~

It was a day indistinguishable from any other when she first put down roots.

The sun was out of sight, hidden behind grey clouds, the land duller in colour for the lack of illumination. Martel was seated on a stump, the log having long rotted into nothingness, staff resting in her lap and eyes closed as she let herself sink into the peaceful embrace of nature. The wind caressing her skin, the sweet scent wafting from the nearby flower field. The rustling of the leaves above her head, the bubbling of the brook, the birdsong drifting into her ears.

The sudden crunch of branches pierced through her bubble of calm, too loud to be caused by a woodland critter. Her eyes snapped open, fingers wrapping around her staff tightly.

Only to spot, in the distance, the familiar figures of a golden-haired girl dressed in white robes and a brown-haired boy dressed entirely in red, making their way over to her across the flower fields. She released the breath she didn’t know she was holding.

There were no intruders. Not at the moment.

Still on guard, she stood, awaiting their arrival.

“Is something wrong?” she asked the moment they stopped before her, words sharp as a knife.

Was there a threat approaching the World Tree, was there a need to-

“Huh?” Just like that, her thought process was shattered by Lloyd, who rubbed the back of his head in confusion. “No, I… I don’t think anything’s wrong.”

“Then why are you here?” Her mind skidded to a halt completely, her grip on her staff loosening, though the tension remained in her raised shoulders.

“To visit. We were passing through the area, so we thought we might as well.” Colette said, cocking her head. “Does there need to be another reason for us to come here?”

To… Visit…?

“Yeah. We promised we’d be back, didn’t we?” Lloyd said, shrugging as he sat down by the stump, without a care for the wet grass, water droplets still clinging to the blades from the morning rain. Colette took a seat next to him, a wide smile on her face that brought the colour back - the green of the leaves, the brown of the bark.

Their promise…?

Martel had paid little heed to it. It was not an oath. They had no obligation to keep it, no penalty from breaking it, and she had thought it just a common courtesy that held no weight.

After all, why would they return here? There was no reason to. What could possibly be found here, other than the remnants of shattered dreams and the bitter taste of betrayal?

“Sit back down!” Colette gestured to the tree stump. “It’s uncomfortable to keep standing, right?”

“I… Alright…?” she muttered. In truth, she would not get tired, or feel physical discomfort. She couldn’t help but listen to Colette, though. Taking a hesitant step back, and then another, until her legs hit the stump and she sat down. Her back was ramrod straight and she maintained a grip on her staff.

She still didn’t understand why they had come, and it didn’t seem like they were planning to provide an answer.

And one didn’t come, in the few hours they spent here. Instead, the two of them broke out into conversation. Not just amongst themselves, but with her. Filling her in on what they had been up to in the months since the two worlds had become one.

Their journey across the reunited world to collect every Exsphere, to save the whispers and stories and souls contained within each tiny sphere, just as Tabitha had once told Lloyd to do within a cave of luminous green. The towns and sights they had come across, described with so much life behind their voices that Martel felt as if she was no longer sitting on a tree stump, but instead on a bench on a cobbled street, the smell of baking bread drifting through the air.

Lloyd waved his arms around wildly while Colette giggled into her hand - an outburst of energy, against which she was helpless to do anything but absorb every word. But they didn’t stop there. They went on to ask her questions, to ask her what she thought. She didn’t answer, apart from simple shakes or nods of the head, even to open-ended answers where “yes” and “no” were no longer sufficient. Lloyd and Colette didn’t linger on her awkward non-answers, or try to drag answers out of her. They just moved on.

They did not ask her if she’d like to go to these places one day, knowing that she never could.

Martel didn’t quite know how to act. She had never spent this much time with Lloyd and Colette before. They had talked to her back at Altessa’s, sure - they were the ones to seek her out the most, actually. But even then, they were always rushing to places, their plates full with everything that they had to do.

Not like this, where their boundless energy spilt forth without anything to curb it, washing over her.

By the time they left, waving goodbye as she remained still as a stone, Martel’s head was in a whirl from the influx of information she had received. She was exhausted, yet not tired at the same time. Another inexplicable contradiction.

There was a gentle warmth, like rays of sunlight cutting through gaps in the clouds and kissing her skin.

But the sun was still smothered in a layer of clouds, so from whence did this warmth come from?

~~~

Now that the sapling had put down more roots, little buds could start to form on the branches, not yet ready to open and show their flowery faces.

~~~

Colette and Lloyd continued to return every few weeks, to Martel’s utter surprise. They checked in on the World Tree, asking Martel each and every time if they were allowed to touch the fuzzy leaves and dangling branches. Martel would nod, and watch them with eagle eyes as they handled the sapling with the utmost care, muttering well-wishes and cheering over every inch it gained. Colette, on rare occasions, would squat next to the sapling, humming a song that was pleasant to the ears. Perhaps she believed the old wives’ tale that singing to a plant could make it grow faster. Even though it was utterly foolish, Martel couldn’t help but join Lloyd in smiling at the sight.

They continued to regale her with tales of their travels, the three of them sitting around different locations in the clearing - by the stump, on the log, beside the river - her staff never far from her. Eventually, Lloyd and Colette began to bring along tiny souvenirs that they pressed into her palm, which Martel would hesitantly curl her fingers around.

A tiny lantern charm. A statuette of some strange monster she didn’t recognise. Snacks, even - crispy chips in foil packets, fruit tarts wrapped in pretty packages, fruits which exploded with juice in the mouth. She did not require food to survive, but she still ate the gifts, letting Colette and Lloyd’s words wash over her as she tasted sweetness on her tongue and left sugar on her lips. She kept the souvenirs in a little box Lloyd had made for her, one that he claimed was blessed by the elemental Summon Spirits such that it could withstand the rain and sunshine. That seemed a tad impossible. Wasn’t that too much effort to go through? It was more likely that Lloyd was exaggerating. The box never succumbed to rot, however, so she had to take Lloyd at his improbable word.

Eventually, Martel mustered up the courage to answer one of their questions, even if she didn’t know if her answers were logically correct. The fact of the matter was, there probably weren’t correct answers, to begin with. Lloyd grinned, and then further roped her into the conversation. The nervousness had seemingly vacated, almost like it had never been there, as she found herself relaxing in Lloyd and Colette’s familiar company. She was still relatively quiet compared to the endless stream of words that came out of their mouths, but she was comfortable enough to talk, and sometimes even laugh a little at the funny stories they told. Listening no longer left her exhausted to the bone.

She learned to wave as the two children always did, an action she had observed from her days as Tabitha and knew was one of the many practices of “saying farewell”. The first time Martel had done so, barely catching their attention before they left, Colette’s eyes lit up, and she waved back enthusiastically, cupping her hands over her mouth and yelling “goodbye”, the word floating across the distance between them and catching in Martel’s heart.

Walking around yielded fewer shards reflecting the distant past that pricked her heart and made it bleed, but rather crystals of memory showing the two children who kept visiting despite there being no logical reason to do so.

They came here for the simple purpose of meeting her, and she couldn’t wrap her head around that. All she knew…

Was that the hole in her heart was slowly being filled, by the sunny warmth that she now knew was happiness.

An emotion that was almost foreign. For once upon a time, emotions had been nothing more than the result of a series of interwoven conditions, dull and without meaning. She had witnessed only glimpses of true emotions, arising due to errors in the code - or perhaps an evolution, for they were one and the same.

Still, she didn’t understand why a hole had arisen in the first place.

She looked forward to every visit, her ears primed to listen for any little noise, her head perking up every time she heard their footsteps.

Martel hoped Lloyd and Colette would keep making the nonsensical decision to return.

~~~

The World Tree now reached Martel’s waist, the leaves on each branch no longer alone. More buds had made their appearance, tiny spots of pale pink among the dense clusters of deep green.

The branches were a little sturdier now, and birds took to perching upon it, their talons resting on the bark as they chirped joyfully.

But growth always came entangled with challenges.

The change of seasons brought with it stronger winds, mercifully ripping leaves from their rightful places and leaving them to fall gracelessly to the ground, where they were trampled upon by animals without a second thought, noticed by none.

~~~

The Centurion Cores posed a threat not just to the World Tree, but to the world at large. If the wrong person got their hands on them, they could wreak havoc and destruction upon the world. And if they led to Ratatosk’s awakening… There would be no telling what would happen. Even here, Martel could feel the writhing hatred of the previous Summon Spirit, fighting to be unleashed upon the world.

The Cores needed to be gathered and dealt with before any of that could happen.

But no mere person could handle the Cores. Touching them would allow their power to crawl within one’s mind, flooding it with insidious whispers, easily driving anyone without sufficient protection insane.

Which meant Martel could leave the job to only one individual.

Lloyd came alone, without Colette in sight, having been called by Yuan. Martel delivered the news in a flat tone, keeping watch on Lloyd’s expression - the way it crumbled into pieces before her eyes, and then was carefully built back up again into a mask of neutrality. It was not something she’d thought Lloyd capable of, but here was a demonstration, right in front of her.

He did not voice any objection, did not try to shirk the heavy responsibility she was about to set on his shoulders. He simply accepted her words with a nod and chose to silently bear the consequences they brought. He understood that someone had to do it, and he was willing to do anything to protect this world and the people he loved.

Martel saw that. She saw his unbreakable will, and the all-encompassing love he held for this world and the people that meant everything to him. She knew that he was the right choice, perhaps the only choice.

So what was this ache in her heart, as she watched Lloyd leave alone, struggling to keep his head aloft?

~~~

A sapling required care to grow, whether it be by nature’s impartial hands or the gentle touch of a loving gardener.

Through the friendship that Lloyd and Colette had offered to her, Martel had experienced the sunlight that was happiness.

Now it was time to learn of the torrential storm that was grief and despair, and the intruding rot that was guilt.

~~~

Silence reigned supreme again, broken only by small pockets of noise when Lloyd and Colette returned, the atmosphere nowhere near as happy and relaxing as before. Never at the same time, of course, for that could not be allowed to happen. And at a much smaller frequency than before, irregular.

Lloyd was quiet most of the time, taking advantage of the safety provided by the boundaries of this space to take a quick nap, one that sometimes stretched into an hours-long sleep. He did not stir at all, thoroughly exhausted to the bone, except for nightmares which twisted his mouth into a grimace and furrowed his brow, unshed tears pooling beneath his eyelids. Even in sleep, he refused to cry.

Perhaps he was tired of putting up an act all the time, of hiding from and lying to his friends. Perhaps he was exhausted from being accused by the entire world and having fingers pointed at him no matter where he went. Perhaps he was sick of being on his guard at all times, even when he was in his most vulnerable position of sleep. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps…

There were so many reasons for his spirit to be at breaking point, so many reasons for him to want to curl up into a ball and never face the world again.

Martel would not disrupt his much-needed and much-deserved rest. She simply placed a blanket she’d squirrelled from Yuan’s shack (which she hoped Yuan wouldn’t miss) on Lloyd, tucking it in around his shoulders and watching over him until he woke up. After which, he would leave to continue his mission, back small and forlorn.

Did he, like her, now see ghosts here? All the times he’d come here with Colette… Were those happy memories being turned against him, making him yearn for the past and dread the future?

The silence was draining, closing in upon her heart and dragging it down into murky depths.

Colette, on the other hand, seemed much the same as before. She continued to talk non-stop, actions animated, a smile drawn on her face. If someone didn’t look closely, they would not see past the mask she had effortlessly painted on with a brush gripped in expert fingers. Would not see that the light in her eyes had dimmed, would not hear the occasional tremble in her voice.

Would not realise that she never brought up Lloyd.

Martel didn’t mind playing along, at least at first, talking about whatever topic Colette brought up and nothing more. The stranglehold around Martel’s heart tightened with each visit, however, as more storm clouds gathered above Colette’s head, her voice getting less and less enthusiastic. Until Martel couldn’t stand it anymore, opening her mouth to ask if Colette was alright.

And the dam broke under the insurmountable pressure, Colette sobbing profusely into her hands, sounding like her heart was being ripped into tiny shreds that could never be put back together. Martel desperately tried to pull on someone, anyone’s memories on how to comfort a crying child. Yet at this most vital of moments, the lives that had always tormented her remained frustratingly out of reach, leaving her to awkwardly rub Colette’s back.

At least a weight seemed to have left Colette’s shoulders after the tears dried up, leaving behind nothing but quiet acceptance. She returned to talking to Martel, her smile somehow more genuine, her voice no longer injected with false cheer, her vulnerability shining through. Colette let herself lapse into silence sometimes, and the two of them would simply listen to the sounds of nature around them instead of trying to fill it with fake noise.

There were moments when Martel thought she felt the burn of Colette’s gaze on her back. But the moment she whirled around to catch her, there would be nothing for her to see. Colette’s head would be bowed, nothing but a smile visible on her face.

But it happened so many times that it couldn’t be her imagination. Yet she didn’t know what to make of it.

And when completely alone, Martel did little things, like practice the manipulation of mana. Things the other Summon Spirits had had millennia to master, but that she was a complete beginner in. The mana bent to her will, but she wasn’t certain how exactly to direct it to accomplish the simple task of breaking down her staff and reconstructing it.

She wasn’t just trying to learn how to be a better Summon Spirit, to learn the practices of all the others. She was attempting to ignore the hole in her heart that she was all the more aware of now, for she had finally figured out why it existed.

The silence. The lonely, empty silence.

Even when she’d been Tabitha, there had never been a day when she was alone. Not even her first, for Altessa had already been there, bringing her to life. And he had never left - from the dark, oppressing halls of Cruxis, to the cosy, if slightly mildew-infested house in Tethe’alla. He was not the most talkative of persons, but the house had always been filled with the sounds of life: the hammering in the forge, the thunk of the knife on the chopping board, the creak of doors opening throughout the house.

Then Lloyd, Colette and their companions had arrived at the front door on their quest to reunite the two worlds. And that led to Mithos staying there, who brought a lot more noise by always engaging Altessa in conversation. It might have all been a front. Mithos may have been actively avoiding looking at her. But she still wanted to believe that somewhere under the trickery and deceit, there had been something genuine.

She now knew the answer to the question she’d been asking herself. What she yearned for was companionship.

And in the deafening silence, with nothing to occupy her, she was left to contemplate the many questions that rose to the surface. Questions that she could only consider now, having broken free of the box that her mind had once been constrained to by algorithms, and come to understand the complicated, illogical matters of the heart.

Martel would stare for hours into the brook, observing the features of her face, feeling them with careful fingers. This face that was hers, yet also belonged to another woman.

When others looked at her, who did they see? For Mithos, Kratos, if any of them were still here on this world, and especially Yuan, it must have been Martel Yggdrasill. And the rest of the world did not yet know of her existence and likely never would, hidden from prying eyes. Her existence held nothing but pain in the eyes of some.

Would Altessa still see Tabitha, an android who struggled with emotion but in the end loved this world, even if she did not know how to put that expression into words? Would her existence then hold a bittersweet love, but also the stinging reminder of failure and the typhoon of guilt that could easily carry someone away in its overwhelming power?

Would the other Summon Spirits recognise her as one? Would Ratatosk, if he was still here, recognise her as the guardian of the World Tree?

Or was she something else altogether?

~~~

Who am I?

The words were spinning around in Martel’s head once again, like a merry-go-round gone out of control. She was trying, and failing, to push it down, wanting to just soak in Colette’s company without any distraction.

Colette was leaning her head against the hard bark of a tree, legs stretched out before her and hands resting in her lap, gaze steadily trained on the sky and the birds that flew free within it. Martel, on the other hand, was standing, staff abandoned in the grass.

Martel didn’t pose the question, even though Colette might hold the key to unlocking the answer. The two of them were quite similar, after all - both failed vessels who had now been given a new purpose in a reconstructed world. Perhaps Colette would know the answer, or at least know where to start.

This was her problem to deal with. She had no right to ask anything of Colette. Not after the grievous wound she had dealt to the girl’s heart. To ask anything of her would be pure selfishness.

“Hm,” Colette said, breaking the silence. She drew her knees up to her chest, resting her chin upon them as her fingers grabbed at tufts of grass, uprooting them. “That’s an interesting question.”

“Oh.” The word slipped out of Martel’s mouth, just as the previous ones had, without her meaning to but unable to be stopped. The question had consumed her entire mind like a parasite until she failed to differentiate between thought and speech.

“No need to be sorry.”

Sorry? She hadn’t…

“I’ve been thinking about that question too,” Colette continued, moving past Martel’s scattered thoughts. “And it’s simple, really.”

How was it simple? How was she anything more than the memories she had inherited, and the face she presented? Yet she could never be Martel Yggdrasill, and she was no longer Tabitha.

So who was she?

“It’s just like Lloyd said, you know?” Colette whispered, pain dripping from her first mention of Lloyd’s name in weeks, her gaze shifting down. “You’re you. You’re Martel, so that’s who you are. Not Martel Yggdrasill, just Martel. And who that is is something you decide, and no one else.”

“I decide…?”

That confused Martel even more. Were people not the amalgamation of who others perceived them as? Was that not even more the case for Summon Spirits, who partly drew their power from the prayers of others, and was therefore most at the mercy of how others viewed them?

“I know it’s hard. Maybe it doesn’t make that much sense. Most things don’t, not really. But it’s what Lloyd said, and I believe him. I always will.” The corners of Colette’s lips lifted into a hopeful smile. “You are who you are. Take your time.”

Time was the one thing Martel had too much of, and the one thing she would never run out of.

“Okay, enough moping around!” Colette declared with gusto, nearly scaring Martel into dissipating into mana, a feat that she had not managed to accomplish on her own. Yet now, bright, tiny particles were flying from the tips of her fingers.

Colette scampered to her feet and grabbed Martel’s hand, not giving her the chance to retrieve her staff before she was dragged off in the direction of the flower fields.

“What are you doing?!” Martel asked, voice two pitches higher than usual, too shocked to do anything but go along, trying her very best to calm her racing heartbeat down. How ridiculous this must look, for her to be led by a girl an entire head shorter than her. Even more ridiculous if someone were to know that she was a Summon Spirit, and Colette was a human. The power disparity was rather silly.

“Bringing you to go make flower crowns.” Colette grinned mischievously, stepping into the thousands of flowers that bloomed, like a blanket of white that stretched beyond the horizon. Her eyes twinkled with that old shine Martel had not seen in a while. “You haven’t done it before, have you?”

“N - no, but -”

“Now's a great time to try! It’s something every child should do.”

“I’m not a child,” Martel whispered, hands shaking as she withdrew from Colette’s grasp. Petals rained down all around them, taken from the flowers and scattered into the sky by the wind.

She was still a weak Summon Spirit, for she drew her power from the World Tree, and it was not yet grown. She would be bested by any of the others, even the mischievous Sylphs. Yet power still crackled beneath her skin, which she could easily release from her fingertips. Even if she was resolved not to use it unless something directly threatened the World Tree, and only if absolutely necessary, it was still there.

No child was meant to wield that much power.

Perhaps she had been childlike as Tabitha, possessing more knowledge than any child should, yet unable to process the workings of the world in the way others did. But even then, she had not been a child.

She had never been a child.

“Neither am I,” Colette replied, turning back. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, a futile effort as a gust of wind blew, catching the golden strands within. Stray white petals caught in their hair, getting lost within. White peeking out among green and yellow. “But… Everyone deserves to be a child at least once. And who says you aren’t allowed to?”

There was a sad tinge to Colette’s smile. And in her silhouette, Martel could see another child. And another, and another, and another, within the memories she safeguarded - the many children who never had the chance to be a child, that chance ripped away by the flames of war or the cruelty of others or the destructive power of grief.

“Come on. I promise, it’ll be fun!” Colette proclaimed, sitting down cross-legged and patting the flowers next to her.

Martel hesitantly sat down, accepting the handful of flowers Colette threw into her lap. A few were small when she picked them up, sitting in the centre of her palm, easily crushed into smithereens to leave not a trace behind. So fragile.

“It might be difficult at first, but just follow my instructions and you’ll eventually get the hang of it…”

She let Colette’s voice guide her, following her every word. And just as Colette said, she got the hang of it pretty quickly, until her first-ever flower crown lay in her hands.

She stared down at it, rubbing the rough stems that were, thankfully, devoid of any thorns. It had been surprisingly fun to lose herself in the monotony of threading stems together with her head bowed over her lap, letting time slip by. A completely unproductive activity meant only for children, that she would have never thought to try on her own…

Would it be as enjoyable without Colette by her side?

“Yours is great!” Colette congratulated her, the rapid movements of her hands coming to a halt as she scooted closer to peek at Martel’s flower crown.

“Oh, it’s nothing compared to yours…” Martel snuck a glance at Colette’s lap, where three completed flower crowns were stacked atop each other. Colette was in the process of making a fourth, her progress scarily fast. And all of her flower crowns were beautifully done, with intricate knots and twining stems, the petals undamaged and the flowers cheerfully open to the sun. Colette must be extremely experienced, something she could never hope to match. Hours of hours with Lloyd, most likely.

“No, no, I mean it! And you can only improve with time!” Colette grinned, picking up the topmost flower crown in her stack and reaching her arms up.

Frozen, Martel watched the journey of the crown, knowing what the final destination was - upon her head, where Colette set it down with careful hands. Still, she could not help but reach up and feel the soft petals of the crown, sitting lopsided such that one side fell over her right eyebrow. It was light, yet at the same time, she could feel its weight, and the slight scratch of the stems against her skin.

“Keep it,” Colette said, as if anticipating the objections that Martel was about to voice.

“I… Alright,” Martel replied, releasing her grip and lowering her hand. “But if you insist…”

She took her own flower crown and placed it gently on Colette’s curls, the white standing out among the gold. It did not measure up to Colette’s, but... “Have mine in return.”

This was all that she could do, even if it was just a small thing.

“Thank you.” Colette laughed, that familiar sound that seemed to bring in spring, the flowers around her turning their heads towards her to listen.

Colette continued to weave ever more flower crowns as Martel lay down upon the fields, hair spread below her as she shut her eyes, folding her hands over her heart. Colette hummed the familiar little tune that she hummed to the World Tree, almost like she was wishing for Martel’s growth, for her to put down roots where she lay and burst into glorious bloom.

With Colette’s melodious voice washing over her, she drifted off into sleep. And in the images that played out against her closed eyelids, the two of them were just normal girls, having fun in the fields without a care in the world, shoulders completely free of any burdens, hands clean of blood, and hearts still whole.

~~~

Whether it was a temporary moment of strange lucidity or a dream born of hovering in the state between wakefulness and sleep, Martel didn’t know. When she awoke, a strange memory floated to the surface, its contents shrouded in grey - Colette, staring at her with a knowing glint in her eyes. The girl did nothing more, only bent down and swiped away a petal on Martel’s cheek with a gentle finger. The petal rested in her hand for a moment before it was blown away by the wind, disappearing into nothingness in the sky.

Gone…

Yet when Martel sat up, colour rushing back into her vision, Colette was asleep on her side, the numerous flower crowns she had completed scattered by her side. Her fingers curled close to her chest, strands of hair moving slightly in the wind that had calmed to nothing more than a weak breeze that teased. She looked utterly at peace, furrows washed away.

And it was like nothing had ever transpired - both the strange vision, and the events of the past, dipped in misfortune.

~~~

After Colette left, Martel kept the flower crown, infusing it with a tiny bit of magic to ensure the flowers remained just as pristine as when Colette gave it to her.

It was a silly use of her power. Flower crowns were not meant to last. They fell apart with time, the petals curling as rot crawled up the stems, abandoned at the end of childhood. The flowers were long dead, after all.

She could call her actions childish, even.

So, why?

It was a gift. From a friend.

That was the only reason required. It was just that simple.

And as Colette had said… Who was stopping her from being childish?

~~~

On the World Tree, the first bud burst into bloom.

~~~

“He was so fluffy! I really hope I get to see Timmie again.”

Colette finished her latest passionate tirade about dogs, this time about a “positively adorable little one” she had met in Luin. She could spend a whole hour going on and on about her “exciting adventures”, which mostly amounted to running circles around town with the dog, all her worries seemingly forgotten. “A dog can make any day better!” she had exclaimed once, and Martel was truly starting to believe that.

With one final stroke in the soil, Colette completed her rough sketch of Timmie, dropping the stick she was using.

“Cute,” Martel agreed, trying to imagine Timmie in full colour from just the sketch. Despite the surprising amount of details Colette had managed to infuse into her drawing - such as the rounded snout, stubby legs and droopy ears - Martel was still having quite some trouble. Her imagination wasn’t that great, and she’d never seen a real-life dog before.

“So, I hope you enjoyed my adventures with Timmie! I know I’m not always the best storyteller,” Colette said, rifling through her rucksack and pulling out something wickedly sharp that glinted under the sunlight. “But now I need to run an idea past you.”

Martel squinted at the object in Colette’s hands, making it out to be...

A pair of scissors.

Instinctively, she took a step back, fingers reaching for her staff - only to come to the stark realisation that it was nowhere near her. She’d left it by the river, where Colette had taken a quick rest by dipping her feet in the soothing waters. And in her panic, she was unable to summon it.

Scissors were supposed to be a fairly innocent object, something used to cut fabric or paper. Yet the sight of anything remotely sharp brought back memories of desperate women caked in blood, wielding whatever they could get their hands on in a last-ditch effort to protect their children from being carted off by men in uniforms which sported the crest of an opposing kingdom, taken as liberty to commit whatever evils they desired. Memories of hugging a child close, praying that they would not be next.

And even more sinister, the thought of anything cutting into the World Tree, tiny and vulnerable.

For whatever purpose would Colette be carelessly wielding that for?

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Colette gasped, realising her mistake and quickly hiding the pair of scissors behind her back. She and Lloyd had always taken great care not to spook Martel with their weapons, ensuring that they were in plain sight, (for it would not be reasonable to leave them without any capability to protect themselves,) their hands never straying anywhere close to them. They knew how skittish Martel was around sharp objects. In Colette’s excitement to share, she had clearly forgotten.

“It’s… It’s alright. You didn’t mean anything by it,” Martel replied, wringing her hands together to try and overcome the feeling that they were too empty. Honestly, she was overreacting. Colette only meant well. Martel couldn’t see her ever doing something with malicious intent.

“Sorry,” Colette muttered, still guilty. “But, you see, I was thinking about how Summon Spirits can change their appearances. Like how Gnome takes on this giant animal that Dirk says is a mole? I don’t think you’ve learned to do that yet, so I was wondering if you’d like me to cut your hair for you.”

“My hair…?” Martel pondered, picking at one of the many green strands that ran down her shoulders. Despite her absolute lack of care and the sometimes volatile weather, her hair had remained lustrous, not a single knot within the long, flowing locks that reached her hips.

“Yep,” Colette said, her hand landing on Martel’s shoulders as she began to slowly push her towards a boulder that was of a suitable height and flatness to act as a comfortable seat. “I thought you might want to… Well, separate yourself from the other Martel. Only if you want me to, though! It’s your decision!”

They came to a stop by said boulder as Colette patiently awaited her answer, still studiously keeping the scissors out of sight.

“I’d like that,” Martel replied. She could not yet change her face, but perhaps changing the length of her hair would make staring into her own reflection less painful, make it feel less like she was looking at a ghost who should have long departed this world.

“Then, sit down!” Colette gently pressed Martel down onto the rock, disappearing from Martel’s view as she took her position behind Martel. “And relax. This might take a while, so sorry for that...”

The tension refused to leave Martel’s shoulders, a part of her still preparing for the cold of metal against her throat, for the coppery tang of blood to fill her nose. The panic of leaving herself fully vulnerable was crowding out all else, which she could recognise as extremely stupid in the one rational part of her mind that remained.

She wielded more than enough magic to protect herself from mortals, even without her staff to channel it properly.

Weapons that were not her own just seemed to overpower all rational thought, it seemed.

Martel felt Colette minutely shift behind her, bringing the scissors up to her hair.

“If you need me to stop at any time, just tell me, alright?”

Martel was about to nod, before realising that that was a bad idea. She should not be moving her head right now.

So she didn’t respond. Even amidst the panic, she trusted Colette not to hurt her.

Snip.

The sound of the first cut was impossibly loud in her ears.

I used to cut Mithos’ hair, sweeping the loose strands off his shoulders as I trimmed the ends.

But no one ever cut my hair…

“I actually gave Sheena a haircut a while back. She wanted to try out something new! Um, it didn’t turn out too well, so I hope this time goes better…”

Snip.

“Sorry if your hair turns out jagged. Practice makes perfect, but I’ve only been able to practice on Noishe, and he’s not the most eager participant. Don’t think he feels happy over being a guinea pig. He keeps running away, and that means his fur gets all messed up over being caught in the scissors! Silly Noishe.”

Snip.

Colette continued to blather on, until she ran out of topics related to hairdressing and had to scramble for the most mundane of things to talk about. The upbeat tone of her voice drowned out the sound of the blades snapping together, until it faded away altogether.

Martel’s eyes slipped close, fingers releasing from their interlocked state. The wind carried away her hair like it did petals, leaving no trace behind, like there had never been anything there in the first place.

“And we’re done!”

Martel’s eyes snapped open at the sudden clap of Colette’s hands. The sun had shifted into the apex of its arc, and Colette was now in front of her, bending down a little to observe Martel’s new haircut.

How much time had passed? She must have drifted away…

“How do you like it?” Colette asked, gesturing towards Martel’s hair.

Martel reached up a hand, finding nothing at her shoulders. She went up higher to grip the ends of her now much shorter hair, which reached only to her chin. The difference in weight was disorienting. She felt so much lighter, like whatever had been pressing on her chest had been lifted.

Perhaps it wasn’t just the loss of hair. Perhaps it was much, much more.

“I like it,” she replied, heart swelling. Both with happiness, and with the dark grip of guilt.

Colette had done so much to help her, and for nothing in return, even as Martel continued to hide the truth from her. A truth that had taken on a ghastly life of its own and cast its shadow upon the both of them.

“I’m glad, Martel!” Colette said, plopping down on the dirt. “Oh, would you still like to be called Martel? If you don’t like that name, I can call you something else.”

“No,” Martel replied immediately, and with much more surety than she herself had thought possible. “It’s like you said. The name is mine, and I am my own person. I don’t want to give it up.”

She may hold Martel Yggdrasill’s memories, but they would not define her existence, and neither would they restrain her from making new memories of her own. Neither would any of the other memories she held, though she would continue to protect them, for they were worth protecting.

“Alright!” Colette cocked her head, smile growing even sunnier, if that was possible. “Do you want to hear more about the dogs I met at Luin? There was another one that I named Clay, and he’s so cute! Oh, I’d like to pet him again!” she squealed.

“Sure. But before that…” Martel took a deep breath, preparing the next two, simple words. Words that she had not uttered before, but that she had heard countless times, both in memories and in life, and that was long overdue. “Thank you. For everything.”

There had never been a meaning behind “thank you” before. It was nothing more than an in-built command. And while she understood the purpose the words played, there was no significance behind them. Just hollow words spit out by an algorithm, the moments she truly meant them few and far between, slipping through her fingers just as quickly as it had come.

Why would they ever cross her mind, then? Not until now, at least, having broken through the once impenetrable wall of numbers.

A simple expression was not enough to convey the amount of gratitude she felt for Colette. It was not enough to repay everything Colette had done for her. It was certainly not enough to make amends for everything she had done to Colette. She was, after all, the one that was continuing to stab a poison-tipped dagger into Colette’s heart. This could do no more than put a pitiful bandaid on the wounds that were constantly being ripped open.

“You’re welcome,” Colette replied with no hesitation, not a shred of blame in her words, her actions, her entire self. “I’m glad to have helped.”

There was nothing but sincerity in her smile, and Martel couldn’t understand how.

But she did take comfort in it, as well as garner a single reminder.

There was another person she owed gratitude to and, more importantly, an apology.

~~~

From where she was standing, Martel couldn’t see much of Lloyd. All she could see was his back, leaning against the cool surface of a boulder some distance away, his head of brown hair bowed. He’d been sitting there ever since he finished giving an update on the latest Core he’d gathered, and the rather interesting people he had come across.

She sighed, padding up to Lloyd. Her mind had been made up days before he’d returned. Some things needed to be said, even if it was difficult. It would have been easier, before she understood the dizzying highs of joy and the seeping effects of sorrow. Then the words would not get stuck in her throat as they were now.

But if that were the case, those very same words would hold no meaning.

Lloyd was quietly whittling away at a piece of wood. He’d made quite a bit of progress in the time that had passed - it was starting to resemble a dog, easily recognisable by Martel after the many sketches Colette had shown her. Perhaps it was meant to be a heartfelt apology, a prayer that it might not be too late to mend the broken bonds that trailed behind him. His shaking hands and the tiny bead of blood seeping out of his thumb from a careless slip of the knife certainly supported that.

That only cemented the need to do this.

“I’m sorry,” Martel whispered, breaking the silence and alerting Lloyd to her presence. She didn’t want Lloyd to jump.

The movement of Lloyd’s hands paused as he craned his head up. The rough beginnings of stubble was on his chin, the shadows lurking beneath his eyes deep. This was a boy on the cusp of becoming a man, yet carrying a burden that would break most man’s shoulders. He was incredibly brave.

But even the strongest needed someone to give them a hand when they inevitably stumbled and fell, because everyone had moments of weakness where they needed acceptance. And Lloyd had no one.

She was not the best person for the job. She might not be remotely good at it - she didn’t hold the innate empathy Colette had, that expertise in comforting others that Colette wielded so effectively. She possessed only the complicated knot of emotions in her chest, which she had only just started to unravel.

She was still going to try.

“For everything I’ve put you through. And thank you, for being willing to do so much.”

The apology didn’t relieve the guilt that ate away at her heart. But that wasn’t the point, to begin with. There was no easy way out, and she was not seeking one. She would bear that which was hers to bear, instead of pushing that burden onto others.

It might be far too late, but she hoped it might bring Lloyd some comfort in the bleak landscape that must have been his life.

A small smile broke out on Lloyd’s face. Not the beacon of light he used to be, but it was something. And any shred of hope one could hold onto made a huge difference.

Someone had said that, once. A someone that was not her, but whose memories held much wisdom.

“It’s alright,” Lloyd said, voice rising above the dejected murmur he had used for months. “I knew what I was signing up for, and you hold no blame for that. Thank you, though. It does mean a lot.”

“Can I see…?” she asked hesitantly, sitting down next to Lloyd.

“Sure.”

Lloyd passed over the in-progress figurine, letting Martel take a closer look at it. It was most definitely a dog - the adorable snout, the lovingly crafted ears, the eyes that seemed soulful, even though it was carved from still wood.

“I hope she’ll like it,” Lloyd muttered, frowning as he noticed the cut on his finger. “If I can ever give it to her…”

“I’m sure you will.”

She had no doubt about that. That a time would come, where everything would be better, no matter how long it took.

~~~

That time came. Eventually, all was cleared as the truth came to light. Eventually, peace came to the lands again, as everyone chose to trust in the betrayed Summon Spirit and teach him to trust again. Eventually, Lloyd was finally able to rejoin his friends, to walk freely with them, laugh and talk with them again. But the scars he’d suffered from skulking around in the dark would likely never leave him.

Perhaps both he and Colette may not be able to forgive her for what she’d done. She could accept that, for that was her responsibility to bear. Maybe they would no longer return, or if they did due to the duty they felt they were obliged to, they would act detached instead of friendly.

She could not blame them.

Come what may, she would take it in stride. But still, she would wait for their reappearance, because of the simple wish that she would like to see them again.

In the peace that came after the draining events at Ginnungagap, Martel came to spend more time in Yuan’s company. He no longer acted like a feral cat, backing away whenever she appeared. Perhaps it was the change in appearance, or the new confidence in which she carried herself - she no longer defaulted to old postures passed down through memories. Perhaps her experiments in changing form were starting to show results, even though she didn’t notice any in her reflection.

No matter the reason, it appeared he could stand her presence now. And she was glad, to make another companion and to clear the air. She became familiar with the inside of his shack, taking to sitting at the table and swinging her legs idly. It felt quite similar to the atmosphere at Altessa’s, for Yuan didn’t seem to be in the mood to talk most of the time. She simply enjoyed the silence. And occasionally a cup of alcohol. The taste was certainly… interesting, burning the tip of her tongue and down her throat.

And it was new.

Martel no longer needed to bend down to observe the World Tree, for it now reached her head.

Outgrown a sapling, but not yet a tree. Stronger now, better able to give mana to the world. Many more leaves, who were larger and rough to the touch. A few flowers, peeking shyly out of buds to face the morning sun. An extensive network of roots that she couldn’t see, ensuring steadiness.

On a normal day like any other, wind whispering through her chin-length hair and the sun falling upon the World Tree, the familiar sounds of footsteps floated through the clearing. With a heart that was full of emotions and all the words she wished to say, Martel smiled, and turned to face her friends.

~~~

One day, the World Tree would be a truly massive structure that towered over all, its leaves so dense that sunlight would struggle to filter through the tiny gaps, flowers of every colour popping on branches, and sweet fruits ripening every spring. It would provide shade and life to all that lived in this world.

One day, far, far in the future.

But the important thing, was that it would grow. Slowly, and with time.

And so would she.

#fanfiction #one shot #tales of symphonia #martel #lloyd irving #colette brunel

4 notes · View notes

midnighthunter321 · 4 years ago

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Free Cool Jazz Font For Android Download

Discover a huge collection of fonts and hand-reviewed graphic assets. All the Fonts you need and many other design elements, are available for a monthly subscription by subscribing to Envato Elements. The subscription costs $16.50 per month and gives you unlimited access to a massive and growing library of 1,500,000+ items that can be downloaded as often as you need (stock photos too)!

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stockwire8-blog · 5 years ago

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What Is Software Testing? Interpretation, Fundamentals & Kind

Ninja Training For Software Program Testers.

#toc background: #f9f9f9;border: 1px solid #aaa;display: table;margin-bottom: 1em;padding: 1em;width: 350px; .toctitle font-weight: 700;text-align: center;

Content

Certified Software Application Test Automation Designer.

Automation Testing Resources.

Test Automation With Selenium Webdriver.

Top Tips For Learning Java Programming.

Develop A Junit Examination Class

Certified Software Test Automation Designer.

How many days will it take to learn Java?

Bottom line -- beyond the most elementary, the math you need will come from the problem domain you're programming in. NONE of that needs to be a barrier to learning Java development. If you can learn Java, you can probably learn more math if you need it -- just don't try to do both at the same time.

Nonetheless this is dissuaded, as well as utilizing one web browser per node is taken into consideration best practice for optimum efficiency. You can after that make use of the TestNG library to run your examinations on multiple nodes in parallel customarily. The simplest means to use these in a local Selenium Grid is to build a Docker Compose documents within the root directory site of your project. Call the documents docker-compose. yml to maintain points easy.

Java 7 can be set up on Lion and Mountain Lion to run applets. Lion and also Mountain can have both Java 6 and also Java 7 set up simultaneously.

And also, there will be much better assistance for Docker, parallel testing will be included natively, and also it will certainly give a much more useful UI. Request mapping with Hooks will certainly likewise help you to debug your grid. As any kind of examination automation engineer knows, waits are crucial to the security of your examination automation structure. They can additionally speed up your examination by making any kind of sleeps or pauses repetitive as well as get rid of sluggish network and cross-browser concerns.

Automation Testing Resources.

Is Java a good career choice?

Similar to COBOL, thousands of critical enterprise systems have been written in Java and will need to be maintained and enhanced for decades to come. I'd be surprised if it's not around for at least another 15 years. But it will change, and is changing.

However, as these are often made use of to develop screenshots of a solitary component, it deserves knowing that there will certainly additionally be an API command to capture a screenshot of an aspect in Selenium 4. The Selenium Grid will certainly be more steady and also less complicated to establish and handle in Selenium 4. Users will no more require to set up as well as begin nodes and also centers separately as the grid will certainly function as a consolidated node as well as center.

To get up as well as running, initially you need to have Docker as well as Docker Compose installed on your maker. If you're running Windows 10 or a Mac, then they will both be installed through the Docker Desktop. Selenium Grid is notoriously hard to set up, unpredictable, and difficult to either release, or version control, on a CI pipe. A much easier, maintainable and also stable way is to use the pre-built Selenium Docker images. This is important to making certain the continued extensive adoption of their structure within their business.

As a whole, puffed up, obsolete structures fall out of style quickly. He started at IBM, relocated to EADS, then Fujitsu, and also currently runs his own company.

Below are some suggestions to make your waits a lot more resistant. To produce a steady variation of the Grid for your CI pipe, it's likewise possible to deploy your Grid onto Kubernetes or Swarm. If they do fail, this makes sure that any type of Dockers are promptly recovered or changed. It deserves keeping in mind that it is feasible to have multiple web browsers running on each node.

Examination Automation With Selenium Webdriver.

I utilize TestNG as it's specifically created for Acceptance Examinations, while structures such as JUnit are commonly utilized for system testing.

One more excellent structure that is well worth exploring is Spock as it's very easy as well as very meaningful to review.

I would certainly likewise recommend setting a day to do this a minimum of once a year, although ideally it would be every 6 months.

Rest will certainly always stop for a collection amount of time before carrying out some code, while wait will just stop briefly execution until an anticipated condition happens or it breaks, whichever comes first.

You ought to never make use of sleep in an examination automation framework as you want your examinations to run as quick as feasible.

Google's Truth assertion collection is additionally an excellent way to compose readable examinations.

youtube

Check to make certain that you have actually the recommended version of Java mounted for your os. I wrote a publication that gets testers started with Java fast, is simple to adhere to, as well as has instances connected to their job. A driver.switchTo(). parentFrame() technique has been included in make frame navigating much easier. WebElement.getSize() and WebElement.getLocation() are now replaced with a single method WebElement.getRect().

youtube

Apple did not produce an Update 38 for the Mac, they maxed out at Update 37. On Windows, the Java runtime may or may not be pre-installed, the decision is left approximately the hardware maker. A Java variation 6 runtime was pre-installed by Apple on OS X Leopard as well as Snow Leopard, but starting with Lion, Apple stopped pre-installing Java. Java 6 can be mounted on Lion as well as Hill Lion, but it will certainly not run applets.

Leading Tips For Learning Java Programs.

You code as soon as, and the JVM does all the operate in making certain your amazing brand-new programme runs efficiently on any type of platform, whether Windows, Mac, Linux or Android mobile. Java is one of the most prominent shows language in use given that it's the only language that works across all computer system systems without requiring to be recompiled each. Obtain opleiding tester to 4,000+ top Udemy courses anytime, anywhere.

Check to guarantee that you have the advised version of Java set up on your Windows computer system and recognize any type of variations that run out date and should be uninstalled. We are not able to validate if Java is currently mounted and enabled in your web browser.

You do not need to have experience of doing this as your expertise of the technology will certainly be enough (we'll help you with the rest till you're up to speed). Teaching is our enthusiasm and we develop every training course so you can go back to square one, understanding nothing regarding a subject as well as come to be a specialist after the program as well as can deal with enterprise projects. You will certainly obtain the best in course assistance from the instructor for any concern you have actually connected to the training course.

Suggestion # 3: Chrome Devtools: Replicating Network Conditions

Where can I practice Java?

JavaScript can be used to do monotonous things like creating animation in HTML. In short, when it comes to how each programming language is used, Java is typically used for all server-side development, while creating client-side scripts for tasks such as JS validation and interactivity is reserved for.

Toptal handpicks leading Java programmers to suit your requirements. There's likewise a creative side to the role as you will certainly design training course content as well as add ideas for coding difficulties for the learners.

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dopeduckbasement · 5 years ago

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Top 3 Methods To Change the Font on Android Easily

#how to change font in android without root #how to change font style in android without rooting #android fonts download #how to install fonts in android without root #how to change font style in android studio #how to install ttf fonts on android without root #fonts for android pie #how to change writing style in phone #change font in android

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themakersmovement · 6 years ago

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How to Change Fonts in Android Ben Stockton Android offers plenty of options to customize the appearance of your device, including your font style. If you want to change your Android font, you can use built-in settings to do it or use a custom launcher. Due to the fragmented nature of Android, changing your fonts on different Android manufacturers and versions will vary. The steps below are confirmed to work on a Samsung device running Android 9 Pie. Changing Built-In Font Settings Some Android devices and versions have built-in settings to allow you to change your font style. If your phone or tablet doesn’t have these options, you won’t be able to change the font style without rooting your device, which isn’t something we recommend. If you do have the option to alter your font settings, head to the “Settings” menu on your Android device by swiping down the notifications shade and tapping the gear icon in the top right. You can also access your “Settings” menu from the app drawer. In the “Settings” menu, scroll down and tap the “Display” option. The “Display” menu may vary depending on your Android device. Tap “Font Size and Style” if you’re a Samsung device owner. This may appear as “Font” or another variation on other phones and tablets. Read the remaining 35 paragraphs https://buff.ly/2N4PKFo

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sunny0106posts-blog · 6 years ago

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Latest apk

Spotify Premium apk:

Music gushing administrations, for example, Google Play Music and Sound cloud were shaken away as Spotify india entered the scene and effectively turned into the most well known music spilling administration accessible on the web. Spotify has two variants one is the standard free form, which gives you a chance to stream any tune yet accompanies promotions and a lot of confinements which can be expelled in the excellent adaptation of Spotify. In this post, you will discover how to download Spotify Premium APK for nothing. This could be valuable to somebody who first needs to experiment with this completely stacked Spotify apk download experience for more than the accessible trail period before deciding on whether to run with Spotify or Apple Music which is another furious Spotify apk rival. The green armed force music spilling administrations offer huge amounts of highlights which makes it worth to get the exceptional membership over the customary one and the costs are likewise truly sensible, and the family designs make it shockingly better. All acclaimed craftsman have their collections transferred on Spotify, and you can claim a bit of that with this Spotify premium APK. In any case, here we are investigating the Spotify modded APK which brings all the superior highlights for you for totally for nothing out of pocket. The Download interface for Spotify premium APK will likewise be given beneath, and we guarantee you this does exclude any malware or spyware inside it.

No Root is required

In addition, the uplifting news here is that your Android telephone doesn’t need pull access for this to work. Means, on the off chance that you have a fresh out of the box new gadget and you would prefer not to root it as it’s under guarantee, you’re ready.

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The most featuring highlight of Spotify premium apk download is the capacity to get boundless downloads of your main tunes. Which isn’t accessible in the standard form of Spotify, regardless of how enormous your playlist is, 100 melodies or even 10k; with Spotify premium, you’re secured with the Unlimited downloads, so you can go on a download binge.

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Promotions may pester for some and may now and again likewise impede a fantastic client experience which Spotify has. Thus, to dispose of adverts be it standard advertisements or skippable recordings promotions, the top notch variant ensures you have a totally promotion free understanding. Since the application accept here in this modded premium form that you’re utilizing the superior variation and will quickly expel all advertisements.

Listen Offline/Listen Anywhere

As you previously found out about boundless downloads with the top notch adaptation and this is likewise another profit by doing is that you can take those downloaded tunes anyplace around the globe, without re-downloading them each and every time you travel elsewhere. They’re put away disconnected on your telephone to listen disconnected in any piece of the world, which is unimaginable with the non-premium rendition.

Lucky patcher apk:

There are numerous applications on the Google Play Store that the vast majority of us need, however these are the paid applications, and once in a while we don’t have the correct method for installment or simply need to attempt the application before getting it to check that if it’s justified, despite all the trouble or not. Or then again how much contrast it has contrasted with its ordinary free form which has a huge amount of promotions inside it. In any case, numerous clients endeavor to download such premium applications, from different sites and ordinarily it ends up being a malignant lucky patcher APK download document. Besides, the free application guaranteed by the designers may have a lot of applications, that may bother numerous Android clients. So to dispose of these promotions and clear your view, just as open premium highlights among an application from the Google Play Store, you don’t have to look through any applications’ split form, there’s this one incredible application, which does the majority of this for you, all at one spot. This one application doing everything is known as Lucky Patcher apk, which is an extraordinary basic utility apparatus that does superb ponders simply like TutuApp, and Showbox APK, and in this post; we’ll talk about how to get the most recent rendition of Lucky Patcher’s APK. Furthermore, talk in insight regarding every one of the highlights that Lucky Patcher offers its clients

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New host for updates included;

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Share it apk:

SHAREit an application that is known in the Android and iOS people group for making document exchange simpler. Be that as it may, this isn’t what all that SHAREit apk is able to do. It’s extraordinary at exchanging information and it underpins almost all document designs accessible on the planet, completely introduced applications and APK’s. It is utilized by a huge number of individuals consistently on the planet that is the reason the application needs to remain refreshed and secure, in this manner designers of the application are continually finding better approaches to improve it. This document sharing application gets two-three updates each month which present programming traps that may improve its execution and truth be told, another one has recently arrived.What’s New in Shareit v4.7.18 APK Update:SHAREit just propelled its most recent Beta Update with rendition number 4.7.18 locally available and as should be obvious its solely for Beta clients and selecting for it isn’t troublesome at all and can be finished in 2-5 minutes. SHAREit apk download clients would be upbeat to realize that the most recent update packs in some significant enhancements, for example, it centers around improving association speed. This implies it is ready to interface with different cell phones a lot quicker than previously.Likewise, the new 4.7.18 Beta update packs in bug fixes that will ensure the application doesn’t arbitrarily crash. While bug fixes probably won’t appear that imperative to ordinary clients, it really makes the new update for SHAREit a high need download as they may improve the application’s solidness.In any case, in the event that you are not a ShareIt beta client, at that point you can download the most recent ShareIt apk document from this connection. The APK document is examined by us and totally safe to introduce on your Android cell phone.

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GBWhatsApp is intended for every one of those clients who dependably care for something more, the authority WhatsApp has numerous confinements, which is filled by the GBWhatsApp. It is the best application with heaps of Advanced highlights for WhatsApp. It is totally easy to understand, and safe to utilize. All your portable information is protected with GBWhatsApp 2019. The 2019 GBWhatsApp apk download update is thinking of some required upgrades, and highlights.

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Kindly Update GBStickers Pack And GBStickers Maker; You can download the most recent adaptation of GB sticker Maker from beneath.

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Blackmart apk:

What is Blackmart Alpha? – If you need to download applications and diversions which are not accessible on Google Play Store or in the event that you need to download applications and recreations for which you need to pay the cost on authority play store then some outsider Google Play Store options are the best alternatives. As its name presents itself, blackmart which implies it contains applications and amusements which are not accessible freely for all. Blackmart Alpha apk is an application showcase option in contrast to the Google Play Store for all the cell phones and gadgets running on Android OS. Clients can download a few applications and amusements without having any Google account or any enrollment to this application showcase isn’t needed.What is Blackmart Alpha download? – If you need to download applications and recreations which are not accessible on Google Play Store or in the event that you need to download applications and diversions for which you need to pay the cost on authority play store then some outsider Google Play Store choices are the best choices. As its name presents itself, blackmart which implies it contains applications and amusements which are not accessible freely for all. Blackmart Alpha latest version is an application showcase option in contrast to the Google Play Store for all the cell phones and gadgets running on Android OS. Clients can download a few applications and recreations without having any Google account or any enlistment to this application advertise isn’t required.

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Source: theleaker

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lbsiteseo · 2 years ago

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evosuper · 3 years ago

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Apple emoji font download for pc

We'll take this as recommendation to help us improve more. Upgrade to a premium license for expanded business use of free emoji. Businesses can use our free emoji for testing purposes only. Intended for personal use, including students and teachers. Thank you for sharing your feedback and for downloading Fontkey. Free license applies to all free emoji icons and zips. Yes it might be annoying to use/get fonts on google or safari but you get so many fonts, and for free, unlike these keyboard apps that make you pay for certain fonts. Please use another app or use font generators on safari, google, etc. I loved this app at first but it’s only been a few minutes and my love for this app has just gone downhill. It’s definitely not my phone lagging cause I’ve used many other font apps and they’ve never done that. They give you many free fonts, the emoticons are usually free, and the keyboard doesn’t lag out. Yes, many of those other apps want you to pay too, but you don’t have to. Emoji Font freeload Mac Os Emoji Fonts Free For Windows Emoji Font freeload Mac Os Sep 21, 2020. Apple included an emoji typeface in the font library of Mac OS X Lion, so I thought it worthwhile to add it to my list of interesting fonts. There are so many better options than this app. Emoji fonts contain emoticons but they include a lot of additional icons. But some app is not available on the field of computer OS. A lot of Android Apps have EXE or DMG edition. So we shared the pro level method for PC user. The Classic Keyboard Type Fast,fonts,Emoji, Emoticon software may be useful for you. It glitches and takes you back to the “normal font” A LOT. How To Download Classic Keyboard Type Fast,fonts,Emoji, Emoticon App for PC To Install on Windows, Mac. The keyboard looks a little different from the regular apple one. I loved trying out the fonts in the app but when I went to go try it in another app it was asking me to pay for certain fonts. You have to pay to use the majority of their fonts 😒 As of August 2021, the Twitter website also displays this character as the Apple logo, in addition to another PUA character which. This character is not recommended for interchange as it is only intended for support on Apple platforms. You can cancel your subscription via this url: The logo for Apple Inc is a Private Use Area (PUA) character that is supported on iOS and macOS. Account will be charged for renewal within 24-hours prior to the end of the current period. Subscription automatically renews unless auto-renew is turned off at least 24-hours before the end of the current period Payment will be charged to iTunes Account at confirmation of purchase Update 6 (May 15) An individual has shared a video on YouTube wherein they’ve shared a guide on how to get iOS emojis on Android without rooting the device. Interested users can download the module by heading here. 1 week subscription price is $4.99, 1 month subscription price is $14.99. A senior XDA community member has shared a Magisk module that lets users get the iOS 14.5 emoji on their Android smartphones too. Subscription period is 1 week or 1 month You can change the custom font style on Xiaomi, Huawei, Samsung, Vivo, Oppo, Realme, Tecno. familyName iOS 8.1 : Apple Color Emoji iOS 8.2 : Apple Color Emoji iOS 8.4 : Apple.

Install the keyboard to access directly from Messages.įor additional features upgrade to FontKey+: Free Emoji, Cool, Stylish and all font changer for Android. as shown aboveSegoe UI Emoji with Twemoji.ttf Rename toseguiemj.ttf.

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Tons of emoji with text emoji / emoticons Note: Microsoft Teams and Skype use a different emoticon set with an alternative animated design.Įmojis from Microsoft Windows 11 are displayed below.Fonts by Fontkey is an App and Keyboard that lets you use unique fonts to customise your social media: Instagram, Snapchat, Tiktok, Roblox, Twitter, iMessage, Tumblr, and more! A brand new Fluent emoji design is coming to Windows in late 2021, but isn't part of the first release of Windows 11. These are provided by the Segoe Color Emoji font, although some applications continue to show black and white emojis from an earlier release. Emojis from Microsoft are supported on PCs and tablets running Windows 11, Windows 10, as well as Xbox.

#Apple emoji font download for pc

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abunayeem · 4 years ago

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Sinhala Fonts – Change Fonts on Android Device

Words matter a great deal. From text and images to messages, your language characterizes your person. Yet, what might be said about the characters that address your words? Isn’t clearly they ought to likewise look marvelous? Obviously, yes! Text styles represent the moment of truth the vibe of your telephone. A tremendous textual style on a little screen looks as frightful as a little textual style on a 6-inch screen. To ensure your telephone doesn’t experience the ill effects of such stylish epilepsy, how about we discover how you can change text styles on your Android gadget without establishing it. There are principally two methods for changing your textual styles and your decision of technique relies upon what telephone you’re utilizing.

There are a modest bunch of makers that fuse this customization in their Android gadgets. In this way, regardless of whether your stock Android let you change the text style, you can generally count the framework programming on these chose telephones. These incorporate well known cell phone brands like HTC, LG, and Samsung. Telephones made by these makers have the customization setting in under Display. To get to it, go to Settings>Display>Font Style. From that point, you ought to have the option to change the textual style just as the size. This change occurs in a case without you having reboot the gadget. The chose textual style and size will then, at that point, ponder across administrations the telephone’s interface, including the symbols, menus, search bars, and messages. Some Samsung telephones additionally permit you to download more textual style styles from Google Play Store and introduce them.

Next time you want to impress your friends with some cool texts or want to give your phone a facelift by changing the way texts appear on it, you won’t have to go through the meticulous and tiring process of rooting. You can choose to use any of the above apps to get this done without much hassle. So, which of one these apps will you choose? Don’t forget to share your views in comments. You can visit now our website for more details about Sinhala Fonts. Thanks for reading.

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gingerxxale · 8 years ago

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Nakama & Shame

I think anime kinda made me disillusioned to friendships. To those who already watch anime often, I think you may already know what I’m alluding to – the unearthly dedication and support to one’s friends (sometimes even enemies) because you believe in the good and growth in them. The incessant self-sacrifice in order to induce safety and/or happiness for a loved one; someone cherished so innocently, so purely, that there is no romantic tie. Just an unpolluted friendship, a bond that is so strong, all the evils of the world – EVEN DEATH – cannot break you apart.

But maybe this perspective isn’t exclusive to anime; maybe it’s even a character trait embedded in Japanese culture.

I walked into a ramen shop in Boston about a month ago and saw this written in huge, white letters upon the burgundy wall over my head:

NAKAMA [n.] A person that shares your destiny for whom you would sacrifice your life; Its meaning is too entangled to be “friend” but it is also too deep to be just “companion.”

If there’s an entire country who really embodies this notion (no matter how small or large), that’s pretty awesome.

Under the font, were drawings of manga-esque characters with their backs turned to the customers but their fists in the air. As usual, upon seeing these kinds of images, I had an immediate feeling of camaraderie and hospitality – inspiration even.

So I was curious.

After researching a bit online (for about five minutes), nakama may actually just be a fictional trope in Japanese television – actually given its deeper meaning from the legendary anime One Piece – but Japan is famously known for its low crime rate, its unarmed officers, its friendly strangers who will fasten a young man’s tie because it’s undone and he’s headed for an interview, and they want him to succeed! So will gladly aid in his looking sharp without needing to be related to this person in any way. Then they’ll wish him the best of luck and pray he gets the job! As if they knew him. As if they were family. So even if nakama is a fictional concept, it seems there is an innate goodness instilled in the Japanese people that obviously gave root to the concept of nakama. An innate, unrelated goodness we haven’t really grasped anywhere else (that I’ve been exposed to at least).

And whether it be instilled in Japanese tradition or simply an injection to their entertainment, I love that I grew up with this idea of nakama. Though this mentality has (I’ll be perfectly honest) made me lose a few friendships here and there, it’s definitely kept the right ones closer and stronger for longer than I expected or felt I deserved. My most valuable friends have respected and even reflected my personalized form of nakama because of the familial relationship it had inevitably created between us.

I was exposed to anime at quite a young age, and I was re-exposed to anime at the crack of dawn of every morning as my brother snuck out of our bedroom to watch reruns of Dragon Ball on the Cartoon Network; the early hours were a safe haven for a relatively violent and bloody show of foreign origins despised by most parents but loved by some teensy children (such as ourselves). He used to take out our most recently purchased bag of pita bread and pack of American cheese from the fridge and would nibble his way through the end of each – until we had nothing left to use for our family breakfasts during the weekends (reflecting on this now, I’m sure this drove both my mom and dad a little crazy).

Now, I often credit my having an older brother for a lot of my toughness and a lot of my disconnect with the common American young lady – my best friends in school were mostly boys. We were always playing Pretend. Dreaming we were magical creatures climbing trees and burning down buildings was a lot more fun than being a part of the local girl-gang in my opinion (which I was also a part of. But I picked my shifts). I owed this early exposure and exercising of a speedily-expanding imagination to my older brother and to the shows he didn’t let me watch.

The shows I only watched while hiding behind the couch and peering over the cushions with my little fingers hinged on the edges of suspense. Clawing through the fabric – just to watch Dragon Ball without him knowing; without him catching me and demanding that I leave (because apparently I was deemed too young for such mature content). Despite him being only two years older than me and like… eight. If he ever did spot me, I’d have to not only be yelled at (mind you, while my parents were sleeping in our tiny apartment in Los Angeles which struck a whole other type of fear through my 3-foot-frame) but I would also have to sink to the floor and stare at the wall for the next two hours – behind the couch, listening to the show instead. Painting the scenes in my head as I had to imagine they were on the TV screen because my evil, older brother claimed I was too immature to see it.

* I will have you know, this was the final power trip I allowed him to have over me. The future was bleak for my older brother, but bright for my unrelenting defiance and eventual overthrow of his tyrannous nature. Bullies are not to be tolerated. *

But I was just so damn curious. Like what could be so amazing, so interesting, that it pulled my brother out of his bed at 5 am every morning like clockwork to eat cold bread and cheese and sit two inches away from the TV screen for the next two/three hours??

It had to be thee coolest thing ever.

So I risked it all. I risked the deportation back to my bedroom, the hellish fire that could awaken my sleeping parents, their hellish fire after being woken by their son’s hellish fire which would then be redirected to me as the source of his hellish fire that had woken them up in the first place.

It all didn’t seem worth it. (But it was).

I couldn’t wake up as early as him every day, but I always made it out to see at least the concluding hour of Dragon Ball/Dragon Ball Z those mornings. I did it so often, that eventually, my brother refrained from fending me off with a foam baseball bat or a stick. Maybe he understood that I was his little sponge whom he could influence and make awesome, rather than the rabid gerbil he made me out to be that ejected out of our mother’s womb for the sole purpose of ruining his life. My seat placement beside him was a promotion. I had graduated to soft-plaything; something that could still be tormented and abused, but should no longer be feared.

I didn’t understand why he liked cold pita bread and American cheese so much, but that seemed to be the Snack of Kings. And I had just been promoted. Beggars can’t be choosey, y’know?

This development in our sibling relationship was also when I discovered my severe case of lactose-intolerance. So in a way, anime’s role in my life was more than just a didactic ruling of friendship and sibling-warfare, but also a court hearing for prospective-allergies.

After discovering my intolerance of yellow-American cheese, my mom introduced my small intestine to goat milk, goat cheese, and an array of goat-rather-than-cow related products; it was a comparatively smelly alternative lifestyle-change that I remember enjoying. I also was not a very picky kid – but again, I saw myself as a trampled vagabond of the streets – so I took what was give to me without question.

But I was a sanctified vagabond. I had made my way from the nosebleeds to the courtside all on my own, a product of my own resilience and ambition. And I thought I was incredible. Like… I wasn’t even old enough for this show. My older brother said I wasn’t allowed to watch these things, and yet here I was… him petting my head and eating cheese while I ogled skyward toward a sizzling, 90s, television filled with awkward screaming, high-voltage blasts and decapitated heads. I was taking it all in and I was loving it.

And one of the reasons I loved it was because Goku (who’s literal growth we have avidly followed from Dragon Ball to DBZ and onward) had a son that he fought alongside. Like how cool would that be?! His son, Gohan, was around my brother’s/my age, depending on the episode, and was being taken out on missions?! Like what?! The amount of TRUST that Goku not only had in his son but in his comrades taking care of his son was powerful. He had enough faith that his son could help him – the greatest Super Saiyan in the world – “fight crime,” defeat enemies, purge the universe of evil!

But also knew when to tell Gohan to like back the f*ck up cause he was 6 and had little to no training. And that was dope.

I was six. I could be great. I could have friends bigger and better than me (which I already did ‘cause I was the shortest kid in my class and still am at the bold age of 22) but friends who still believed in me in spite of that! I could be everyone’s equal. The grown-ups would see my latent potential, the bold energy I harbored, and pay no mind to my age. They would look at me and expect greatness; not because my father was their friend nor because my father was great, but because I was their friend and I was great.

They would do anything for me. Even give up their life for me? Whoa.

The episode that is engrained in my memory most was my brother’s favorite – we re-watched this scene countless times once YouTube became a thing on the internet and a mighty weapon for internet babies like us to digest.

Gohan turning Super Saiyan 2 for the first time.

Mostly I just remember Android 16’s head bouncing around on the dirt, and his dreary eyes looking up as he drawled… “Gooooohaaaaaaan. Let it gooo…” in this deep, robot voice – but let’s remember why 16’s head was rolling around at everyone’s feet. Because he had just pounced on Cell’s back with the belief that he still had a bomb lodged inside his body and was ready to self-destruct – to sacrifice his own life in order to save his comrades. Comrades now, but enemies not so long ago. Hell, Android 18 was going around bustin’ everyone’s asses and suddenly she’s marrying Krillin – goes to show that bad guys have can have a lot of good inside them (and if you’re marrying Krillin… you have a lot of good inside you).

But alas, 16 no longer had a bomb inside his body, and therefore Cell blasted him to bits and kicked his skull aside like it was the neighbor-kid’s deflated soccer ball. This is where 16 recites his epic speech of encouragement:

“It is not a sin to fight for the right cause… It is because you cherish life that you must protect it… I know how you feel, Gohan.” Despite being an android.

And then Cell stepped on his face and his head exploded – but! With all the coils, gadgets, chips, and metal – out came a lot of blood; and that was very humanizing to me. That things that bleed – animals, humans, and apparently androids – we all have a quality that bonds us, a frailty and an appreciation for life that unifies us. We are all unified by the blood in our veins. Despite being just an android! Gohan was right! 16 did love life, and he gave it up because he loved his friends even more and wanted them to enjoy the rest of their existences. It’s an abrasive scene, but thanks to my older brother, Andrew, one I’ve seen a million times nonetheless.

And due to the power of emotions! Gohan crosses the threshold and reaches Super Saiyan 2.

With glistening tears in his eyes.

It reminded me of the samurai – avenging the death of a loved one. Pride. Brotherhood. Bonds. Protection. Justice. Self-sacrifice… Nakama.

And then came Naruto.

This could easily mark the end of my existence. I lost my youth at the mere age of 12. Cause if Naruto doesn’t traumatize you for life, then bless your soul – nothing else can, my child.

Masahi Kishimoto intended the first arc of Naruto Uzumaki’s adventures to be his last as well. That single manga was illustrated for the notoriously heart-wrenching plot movement of Squad 7 facing Zabuza, Demon of the Hidden Mist, and the orphan Haku. (Let’s not get too into this though cause that’ll just tear me up in seconds).

Transformed into an anime, this plot movement was the first for many of us to watch. And very quickly were we faced with the complex of sympathizing for the enemy, maybe a little too much.

Zabuza Momochi, a rogue Shinobi of the Village Hidden in the Mist is known as one of the most dangerous ninjas of the land. Very unexpectedly, we learn he also practically raised an orphan child named Haku on his own, training him as a swordsman to defend himself. Haku has a special ability that people in his village feared; therefore, people like Haku and Haku’s mother were summarily executed. So Haku’s mother taught him to keep his ability a secret – until her own spouse discovered their secret and murdered her. Haku lost control in response to this, kills his own father and the rest of his village and is then found by Zabuza Momochi…

In this first arc, Zabuza is hired as an assassin that inevitably clashes with Squad 7 (our protagonists), and we’re obviously rooting for Squad 7 to survive! We want them to win. The lead character, Naruto is in Squad 7! Clearly we like them the most. Then why is it that every fan of the show immortalizes Zabuza and Haku?

Because we see a bond between Zabuza and Haku. When Haku appears in the mist to sacrifice his safety in order to keep his caretaker safe – that act changes everything.

As of yet – there is no strong bond holding together Squad 7. Yeah, Naruto and his comrades fight their hardest, and one of them almost to the death; they have to utilize the teamwork they’d been avoiding for so long – but that’s not nakama. The bond of love between an assassin and his conditioned apprentice, though? THAT was nakama.

You see that moment, that presentation of empathy, love, and care for something other than themselves made those characters greater – unselfish, forgiving, merciful and kind to someone outside of them – making them stronger than any of the adored members of our beloved Squad 7. Their pasts, their wrongdoings, their sins I won’t say meant nothing… but they suddenly meant much less. Because we just witnessed their humanity, and much more than their humanity – selflessness.

In fiction – we frequently equate the enemy with negative qualities. They are the enemy, therefore they must carry no virtue. They are all evil.

But a person who steals bread, inspired by the love for their starving children… A person is risking their life, reputation, and future with an evil act in order to protect/save others.

Self-sacrifice is the greatest sacrifice is it not? And great self-sacrifice I imagine should be the hardest decision to make. The amount of bravery and inner-peace needed to execute such a choice… is impressive. I am grateful to have never been placed in the predicament where I must choose between my life and another’s. Would I have the strength to give up everything for someone I love? Could I make that decision? I have no idea, but I can tell you that when I see a mother sacrifice herself for her child, or any adult jump in front of a child they are unrelated to who is in harm… there’s something magical behind that choice. There’s a passion, a power of emotion that exceeds the brain and is pure heart – which may be stupid – but it’s selfless. And altruism is admirable if not the most admirable.

Nakama is a purely altruistic act, and though I cannot say I’ve ever felt that I would give my life for my friends in a moment (which seems like nakama-extremism), I know I sacrifice a lot for my loved ones, even when we are not blood related. I donate a lot, I believe in people a lot, I offer plenty of my time which in my opinion… is giving my life.

But a lot of people do not understand this idea of nakama and are very quick to judge it, if not feel unsettled by it; it is not clinginess, it is not desperation; it is just empathy, faith, and affection but it does not take away for someone’s love for themselves – at least it shouldn’t. It is there only to make you stronger.

So maybe that’s why some of our most evil characters in popular culture are incredibly strong. Enemies in fiction aren’t always 100% made out of Satan-Squeeze. We do see some humanity in our antagonists here and there. But there’s a weird, religious, consecration when a bad guy “sees the light” and decides to suddenly “go green and be good.” So it almost seems like… there really is no adversary… cause… in an instant, they’re absolutely cleansed. So… if everyone can be saved, than that means everyone is made of goodness. And then what a relief that is! What a belief that is! Ahhhh what a happy, spiritually satisfying ending ☺.

This brings up the complicated character development between Naruto Uzumaki and Sasuke Uchiha. (We’re diving into murky waters, my friends).

Sasuke Uchiha was my favorite character from the moment I laid eyes on him, but he has probably one of the most tragic pasts I’ve ever had the honor of absorbing. Born of the Uchiha Clan, Sasuke was raised among some of the most intelligent, perceptive, and valuable ninja-warriors of Konoha. Their trademark is the Sharingan – a powerful dōjutsu (an eye technique) that augments a ninja’s insight and hypnotism against their rival… basically. Sasuke lives a pretty normal and happy childhood, constantly idolizing his older brother Itachi and striving to be just as strong and helpful to the community as his brother has been. Then we discover Itachi has had undisclosed motives for a long time. Abruptly, he unleashes… going on a rampage, slaughtering the whole entire Uchiha clan, including his and Sasuke’s parents… but leaves Sasuke alive and alone.

So Sasuke’s mission practically from birth becomes to avenge his clan, locate, and defeat his brother.

But then he meets Naruto Uzumaki and Sakura Haruno who seem to veer him from the path of self-destruction and revenge. He finds a family he once lost amongst Squad 7 and its hilarious but unsurpassable sensei, The Copy Ninja, Kakashi Hatake (who, for lengthy reasons, also attains an eye with the clan’s Sharingan). There is a bond growing between all four of these characters, an empathy, a pure caretaking quality that was not there when they were up against Zabuza and Haku.

But inescapably… we lose Sasuke to the dark side (and let’s just leave it at that for now).

One of the worst things that can probably happen to you as a human being (aside from an audience member) is seeing your favorite character go bad. Yeah sure it’s kinda cool and they become even edgier than they once were, but there’s nothing cool about seeing someone you believed to be your best friend go rogue and forsake the home you built together because suddenly you and your friendship mean absolutely nothing to them… That always sucks.

But according to nakama, you have an unbreakable bond… yet you see the goodness being sucked out of your nakama’s soul… does that mean that you give up on the friend who has given up on you? Do you turn your back on the criminal your best friend has now become?

One of my dad’s favorite movies is Seabiscuit. He’s definitely a big fan of the comeback-kid and always tended to root for the underdog. His favorite quote in the film became one to live by in our household. It was when Chris Cooper’s character was asked why he kept trying to fix this horse that had injured its ankle. It was a racehorse. With an injured ankle it had become useless. And to that he responded,

“You don’t throw a whole life away just because it’s banged up a little.” Beautiful.

So when your BFF goes all homicidal on the townspeople… what do you do? Well, because of anime, I don’t think I’d ever be able to completely hate them. Even if I had the responsibility of killing them… the nakama between us would still exist despite their death and my being the cause of their death.

I am not quite sure that this is a good thing. You see… sometimes… I do believe we need to lose friends, and we shouldn’t keep raising excuses for why it’s okay that they’ve truly begun to suck as people. It is their fault. You have tried. You’re now beginning to work yourself to the bone defending an ego that apparently doesn’t even want your defending.

The fatal flaw of nakama: difficulty knowing when to let go.

But the problem that I feel most people face, is letting others go too easily. I watch my acquaintances releasing friends like breath out of their lungs sometimes, and the stories I hear of them being suddenly dropped from a friendship are staggering… I think people have forgotten how to be brave, and forgotten how to be there for our buddies when they need us the most and evidentially become the most difficult versions of themselves to deal with. It is hard being a good friend – if anyone tells you otherwise I can confidently state that they are wrong and probably have a lot of interpersonal issues as well. But it is hard being there when someone needs you, especially when they need you more than that one time when they got the news.

I credit this rude awakening to my emotional intelligence, my time spent being introspective and aware of the people and the world around me – to my understanding and my empathy. Because I know I’ve “strayed-from-the-path” before, I know I’ve hit concrete walls and sulked in the pitfalls of depression, and more often than not was abandoned by my friends rather than finding them waiting for me to wake up on the other side as a new person. And I’ll tell you what – I got used to the abandonment, but I never accepted it as a viable approach. So every time a friend of mine hit the concrete walls or were in the jaws of anxiety and stress, I was always sitting cross-legged with my head cocked to the side, my ears wide-awake, and a smile in my pocket for when they were ready. ‘Cause I knew that’s what could’ve helped me. I knew that support meant something to people. I was showing my friends in pain that they had a cheerleader, and I was going to be rooting for them until they’d come back to Earth. And did I learn this from the air? Did I think of this approach by myself? Ruminating on it, anime and manga trained me to be a good friend before I even had a friend to be good to.

But what about when they don’t come back to Earth? And what if it’s because they refuse to? When do you let go, and does letting go mean ‘stop loving?’

That’s when things get complicated.

But nakama still doesn’t lose its value.

My BFF is a homicidal freak now, right? Okay. So it appears that I’m head of the defense force that is meant to take my ex-BFF DOWN TO THE GROUND… those characters that suddenly just flip the switch and delete every memory they have had with that person… that’s great and all, and I’m sure a useful tool when you’re in the business of saving lives (you’ve essentially deleted your bias towards a person who is now your enemy) but that doesn’t feel very human to me. Like we just discussed above, you’ve also given up on someone. And the idea of giving up on someone does not exist in anime. Unless it’s a supporting-role who had a hand in poorly raised one of our vindictive protagonists. But they always feel shame in the end anyway, and the protagonist has the inner peace to forgive them because of their understanding, their love, and at the root of it – nakama.

So how and why did nakama appear in manga and anime? Where did it come from and why is it still so prevalent in Japanese culture? Could it be a reaction to something rather than an intrinsic value?

What if nakama was in some way a response to shame? That if you did not behave this way towards your comrades (for example fellow samurai) you would then be identified as a coward, unwilling to risk your life for your brethren. Therefore you have brought dishonor to you family. Dishonor on your cow! (as per Mushu) and shame upon your head. An ultimate, sin according to the ancient culture, inducing suicides throughout the empire.

So could the innocent idea of nakama have been born from the embarrassment of shame? And is that why western society does not grasp this value… as a value? /how do we experience shame and do we value it?

What is our idea of shame? I’ll tell ya, it usually doesn’t stem from how we treat other people:

Someone cheated on their spouse? Yeah well it happens.

Someone keeps cheated on their math tests? Shame.

A person is corrupt in the workplace? It’s terrible, we hate it but… what’re we gonna do, it happens.

A person comes out as gay. Shame.

A human who likes a unique style of music. Shame.

A human who was raped. Shame.

A teenager who isn’t athletic like their parents. SHAAAME.

You see, we treat shame as a form of social acceptance, and by that I mean, if you do not meet the criteria of the put-together citizen, you should be ashamed of yourself! During the Edo Period of Premodern Japan, if you were a Samurai and could not uphold Bushido; “the way of the warrior,” the moral code of that culture; shame was brought upon you. But their moral code was often in the pursuit of benefitting other people.

The eight rules of bushido code are as follows:

Righteousness Heroic Courage Benevolence/Compassion Respect Integrity Honor Duty and Loyalty Self-Control

These laws outline the responsibilities of samurai; to be deeply honest with yourself and your neighbor, to not only find opportunities to help your neighbor but to create those opportunities when they do not arise. Understanding that true strength does not come in proving your strength. Staying true to your word and being aware that you are the judgment you sleep with at night. Decisions you make and how these decisions are carried out are a reflection of who you truly are.

For, “you cannot hide from yourself.”

But it appears that our in-vogue moral code dictates that you must hide from yourself because if you are different… you are a deviant. Its standing does not rely on our treatment of others but more on our ability to conform to a certain standard of acceptable normalcy. Not too weird but not too common. So our code just seems to be self-imposed and self-inflicted. We don’t seem to really value how we treat one another but how well we mold to one another. I think the last time I was taught that being kind to others was a code to live by was in kindergarten, when I learned, “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.” Pretty much, treat people how you’d wanna be treated. And then of course “keep your hands to yourself.” * thumbs up *

But after that… I dunno… there wasn’t much stress on the ethical upbringing of our population, of our citizens. Do we really not care that much? Yeah sure, I took ethics in college, I took several courses in Sociology and Philosophy and studied the Ethics of Documentary Filmmaking… Literature can often times be a nice bridge into empathy as well… but these were all choices. I was not obligated to take any of these classes… which means… a lot of people don’t. And won’t. And even if they did/do, college may have been a late start to have these discussions.

We are raising a population of Narutos that will not chase after their Sasukes. Generations of children that believe hurting someone is an okay practice if that person hurt them first and feel no shame afterwards. That reflecting fire proves your strength rather than dousing it and turning your cheek and being a bigger person. The way we’re going, everyone is going to want their fire to be larger and brighter than their enemies’ and their friends,’ igniting an egotistical flame that’ll just burn down city hall… thanks guys.

Hot-heads are generally looked down upon in Japanese entertainment. They’re a source of humor and the butt of everybody’s jokes because they’re assumed to be quite immature and stupid. They are nothing like their leaders; they lack self-control and respect, empathy, and awareness. In these shows, characters have certain codes to live by that are very similar to the samurai’s bushido, and if you’re not striving for that admirable way of life… something seems to be wrong with you:

The way of the ninja in Naruto.

Saiyan Culture’s emphasis on pride, honor, strength, and honesty.

And even in shōjo manga like Mermaid Melody and Special A, there is a camaraderie between our main characters that is so strong, any outside force cannot defeat it. You see these stories do not have to revolve around intense, dramatic plots entrenched in suspense and guided by their twists and turns. The characters set in a village ravaged by demons are quite the same as characters trying to survive high school. They are inspired by their peers; peers who neglect them, hate them, terrorize them, love them… they want to grow and become stronger because of their peers.

There is a constant theme in anime about weakness and how weakness is looked down upon, but not in the overtly-masculine way that you may think. It is not that weakness itself is shameful, but that one’s inability to protect their loved ones is shameful. Characters are often tormented by their guilt for feeling like deadweight, like an anchor, being incapable of protecting their best friends and their families. So they are motivated by their pain, their rivals, their nakama all in order to evolve and grow into someone stronger – and a character’s strength is measured by how well they can protect other’s.

What an incredible notion. Measuring strength based on your selflessness and your ability to love.

If I have to lose friends because they do not understand nakama… because they find weakness in it, they’re missing out on a tool that builds up only the toughest and the bravest. It hurts, but it must be endured and it must be accepted by people like myself. Those friends I will lose are luckily few, and are not guided by the same light that guides the characters I’ve admired since my childhood. And people like that cannot inspire themselves, nor will they be able to inspire others.

I am an endless fire lit in perpetuity by the sensation of my nakama, and I will continue to be fueled by this heat, inspired by every day and every night, because I have people I care for and people to live for. My ability to love can break the bank – and I can thank my evil, big brother for that.

- Ashley Beroukhim

11.24.17

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