#i could go on about his whole mental state in the wasteland. it was never great pre-bomb drop but it's a mess post apocalypse 😭

[elgaravel]

everlong - foo fighters // mary oliver, "blue iris." devotions // simone de beauvoir // alive - pearl jam // david mitchell, slade house // and i love her - kurt cobain // churchrummagesale // today - the smashing pumpkins // kvetchkween // audrey emmett // the memory of a memory, katie maria // black - pearl jam // claire c. holland, from i am not your final girl: poems; “sally” // kaveh akbar, "my father's accent" from pilgrim bell // wild geese by mary oliver // times like these - foo fighters

musings on my sole survivor, akira sato

[acapelladitty]

Trouble Like A Mugshot (1.5k)

Pairing: Lucy Maclean/Cooper Howard

Summary: After a long day of travelling the wastelands, Lucy is feeling horny and asks Cooper if he wants to have sex with her. A question which is much more complicated than she could have possibly known.

(A/N: I might turn this into a short series of moments showcasing the pairs developing relationship from this to hard nsfw if that's something folks would like to see.)

Fic Masterlist

Link to AO3

Lucy Maclean was no stranger to the difficult to ignore feelings which were pressing at her body. Fingers slightly trembling, breath coming in shorter bursts than she would admit to, eyes unable to pull themselves fully away from the lounging ghoul who reclined in his nearby bunk with a relaxed stance; cowboy hat tipped across his face as he feigned sleep.

Lucy Maclean knew herself enough to understand that her restlessness wasn't the radition sickness which had recently started to touch at her peripherals again. Nor was it the fact that it had been weeks since she'd had any time to herself that wasn't shadowed by either her ghoulish companion or some other entity.

Lucy Maclean was horny and she was never one to deny herself a simple, sneaky little indulgence when the mood took her.

"Hey, Cooper." She called, fingers rolling across her bare forearms as she sat with her back to the wall, legs crossed in a neat pile. "You awake and listening to me?"

"Hard not to with those foghorn vocals." A grumpy response, muffled by the hat rang back at her. "What are you yapping your flap about?

"Do you want to have sex?"

In their time together, Lucy had never witnessed Cooper doing anything that her vault lessons had taught her were sexual acts. He didn't touch himself around her, didn't disappear for some self-relief as the boys did, didn't make any kind of pass at her like some of the others had done before her husband had been selected. As far as she knew, maybe the ghoul didn't even feel the same things she did, and that realisation made her roll back on her question almost as quickly as she had asked it.

"I mean, if you can have sex that is. I don't know if your," Lucy paused, unsure how to describe her partners physical state without causing offence, "condition, makes it possible. I don't even know if you have the right parts for it but there's other ways of experiencing pleasure. We could use our mou-"

Cutting herself off as her babbling reach a new octave, Lucy watched as Cooper's body - his frame stock still since she had asked her initial question - finally stirred into action. A reddened hand slowly rose from its position by his hip until it reached the cowboy hat, plucking the leather from his face as he turned to look at his bunkmate and travelling companion with an indescribable expression; various emotions fluttering through his typically stoic face.

"I know your experiences with ghouls are limited, princess." Cooper spoke patiently, voice low as he fired the hated nickname at her, her vocal dislike of the new monkier making it a very quick favourite of his. "But the whole package is still intact so let's get that established before you go telling people falsehoods about my good person."

"Okay. Noted." Lucy held her hands up apologetically and her knees touched as she lounged against the concrete wall which was supporting her. "But you didn't answer me. Do you want to? Have sex, I mean? Last time i did was with my assigned husband and it was good enough, great even, but then he tried to kill me and it was this whole thing."

Mentally filing that information away for future use and subtle further investigation, Cooper lay back fully against his own cot and tilted his head closer in her direction, thankful for the dimness of their shared room as it shielded most of his features.

"As much as I'd love to bury my bone in a new patch of land, I don't think that's necessarily the best choice in terms of this little partnership we've stitched together."

Indicating his sewn finger, he wagged it at her dismissively as a discomforting sensation flooded his stomach, mild arousal at the thought of some tail mixing with something dangerous that set his teeth on edge.

"Why not? It's only sex."

Suddenly feeling older than he had any right to, Cooper fell silent as he mused on her question for a moment.

Lucy Maclean.

Eyes as big as a doe, that girl was built soft but he was lucky enough to see people for what they truly were and the steel which lurked beneath the painful optimism and naivety that shone free of her would make her a dangerous player if she ever truly entered the game. He felt the burden of his own cruelty at times, cornering her into making decisions that would cause her little vaultie friends to vomit if they knew the violence she enacted, but with every difficult choice came a fresh coating to that steel which would see her survive and thrive in the wastelands.

It's only sex.

In his life, Cooper Howard had enjoyed less sexual partners than many would believe. A sticky fumbling in the upper level of an old barn had been his first, the other party a sweet girl from a nearby ranch who was two years older and knew what she wanted from him. Pretty soon after that came Barb and as soon as he laid eyes on her he never saw anything past her.

War was terrible for the other men and many lost themselves in drink and the women who haunted the barracks and backlines looking for poor souls to feed on. But not him. Never him.

Not when he had to come home to Barb.

Even when married and at the height of his fame, when aspiring young things would throw themselves at him, their perfumes overpowered by the stink of wine and cigarettes, he had rebuffed them politely. He was loyal and he enjoyed the fruits of that loyalty as he held his wife in his arms and basked in the sweet sounds that she would make as they fucked. Hell, she had even given him a daughter and he loved her every day for it.

War never changes.

But he did.

And fuck him if his new appearance and designation as a Ghoul didn't screw him out of any chance of some stress relief as he wandered the wastelands. Might as well have been a fucking leper for all the tail which was now afforded to him and his leathery visage.

Not for Lucy Maclean though.

She, it seemed, didn't care about any of that.

"Did I say something wrong? The leaders explained all acts of intercourse to us so I know what I'm doing and I consent fully."

Lucy's voice, heated with an almost defensive lilt, broke into his musings and Cooper blinked at her as the hole that made up his nose flared while he inhaled deeply.

"I don't doubt that, darling. I've seen how you handle a pistol." Reverting to his typical sarcasm as he looked, truly looked, at her, Cooper sighed at the earnestness which oozed from her features. "But I'm gonna have to decline. Politely."

"Is it because of me? Did i do somethig wrong? I mean, my husband didn't seem to mind but then he was planning on killing me anyway so y'know?" Making a wild gesture with her fingers as she spoke, the casualness of her speech wasn't enough to mask the genuine insecurity which threaded through the questions.

"You're fine. Attractive little thing, even. I think any man would jump at the chance to have you wrapped around them like an old holster."

He wasn't lying- and he wasn't blind. She was a good looking young woman, her innocence flickering like the dull embers of a welcoming fire in the darkness of the wastelands. She was enthusiastic, eager, and damn pretty with those big eyes and curved figure which hid beneath the bulky clothes which she used for protection. More than once he'd caught himself glancing at her as she bent to snatch up things from the floor and the few times he did allow himself to fall into something like sleep featured breathy moans and the feeling of long, brunette strands brushing through his ungloved hands. Mouthy too so he knew she would be a vocal one - probably yowling like a hellcat.

It would be so easy to have her.

A simple yes and she would no doubt leap into action, shedding those clothes as quickly as did her weapons when trying to find peaceful solutions to violent problems. He would treat her right, everh inch the gentleman cowboy and no doubt much better than that shady husband she'd unwittingly fucked. He'd show her things with his fingers and mouth that would have her screaming loud enough to wake up all the devils in hell. Against the cot, against the wall and against whatever furniture she wanted, he could show her how a real man treats a woman as they both burned off some stress.

Feeling a very definite stirring in his groin, Cooper was quick to banish the dangerous thoughts.

"But a bad man like me shouldn't be allowed near a pretty little thing yourself. You're ready for a lot, Lucy Maclean, but you ain't ready for that."

Something almost like understanding passed through her gaze and Lucy nodded, instead exhaling deeply as she tapped the back of her head against the wall behind her.

"In that case, would you mind leaving for an hour so that I can masturbate, please?"

Cursing himself for the little shred of morality which plucked at his heart and refused to allow him to ruin this unknowing tease of a woman, Cooper dutifully rose to his feet and marched to the nearby door.

"You get half an hour." He grunted, barely tilting his head towards her as he stormed out into the nighttime air - determined to get far enough away that there was no chance that he would hear her and break his determined stance.

Besides, he might not be fucking her but as his cock pressed against his slacks, he wasn't masochistic enough to deny himself a similar pleasure and the distance would also give him some much needed alone time.

Goddamn Lucy Maclean.

Links to rest of the series:

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

[ghostforwhat]

Not to post a whole plethora of tentative meta, but I’ve seen quite a few posts and had a few discussions about Will Graham being continuously linked with water in the show and I just wanted to pull you all into a not so quick comparison & theory that I thought was incredibly interesting. 

To start with, it’s symbolic with his increasing instability in regards to not only his life but his mental state as well; the stag is heralded often as a measure as well and I’m a huge fan of using it as it solidifies the nature of Hannibal’s influence early on as something not quite inherently destructive. It’s a parallel to Alice’s white rabbit in the sense that Will is constantly seeking it without being aware of what it’s purpose is or where it’s going. However, it isn’t seen as corrupting until after the water becomes unmanageable in the show. We see Will use towels to soak up his sweat and fall back onto his sheets, we accept this as his normality and as he delves further and further into the fever, it becomes less of a understood routine and more of a underlying warning. He takes a shower and hallucinates, he falls asleep and he drowns. This is the beginning, the shaky steps out on a ledge of suspended instances where he is emphatically sinking instead of swimming; he himself attributes his sense of stability to a stream which. Stream of consciousness metaphor notwithstanding, it’s an odd place to set up and then depend on for a baseline of sanity or calmness. Streams are prone to interruption, be it currents or an outside force. Which sparks the first comparison:

Water and navigation had that role to play. Locked in the ship from which he could not escape, the madman was handed over to the thousand-armed river, to the sea where all paths cross, and the great uncertainty that surrounds all things. A prisoner in the midst of the ultimate freedom, on the most open road of all, chained solidly to the infinite crossroads. He is the Passenger par excellence, the prisoner of the passage. It is not known where he will land, and when he lands, he knows not whence he came. His truth and his home are the barren wasteland between two lands that can never be his own. [...] One thing is certain: the link between water and madness is deeply rooted in the dream of the Western man. (Foucault’s History of Madness, Part 1: Stultifera Navis)

The water motif being an allegory for his madness isn’t necessarily the point I’m dissecting but it’s certainly an bursting concept when the only other time a character (a character who is not Hannibal; Hannibal is not a Western man nor does he strive at any point to emulate one and at this point, his particular strain of insanity cannot mirror Will’s directly.) experiences the same sort of unmistakable submersion is when Alana finally comes to terms with who and what Hannibal (and by association at that point, Will) truly is and has dreams not dissimilar to Will’s which are then followed by a fortification of self. She is changed by this. In the passage, there’s references to navigation and ships; I presented the conclusion first because it simply works better if the assumption that water and madness is already present when thinking of Will’s journey across the Atlantic but I can’t bring myself to leave the first half out entirely.

The madman on his crazy boat sets sail for the other world, and it is from the other world that he comes when he disembarks. This enforced navigation is both rigorous division and absolute Passage, serving to underline in real and imaginary terms the liminal situation of the mad in medieval society. It was a highly symbolic role, made clear by the mental geography involved, where the madman was confined at the gates of the cities. His exclusion was his confinement, and if he had no prison other than the threshold itself he was still detained at this place of passage. In a highly symbolic position he is placed on the inside of the outside, or vice versa. A posture that is still his today, if we admit that what was once the visible fortress of social order is now the castle of our own consciousness.

Right before the information of Will’s pilgrimage is revealed, we see Alana walk out of Will’s home, she tells Jack that Will is gone and that “...he knows what he has to do.” as if an agreement had been reached. We learn after the fact that if this was the case, neither parties intended to honor it. They both were subjected to this cruel sort of infinite crossroads, Will more frequently than Alana, and it’s evident that Will is already half way down the path that leads to Hannibal; stumbling down the halls of his childhood home while Alana firmly removed herself from that kind of uncertainty and instead sought to cut off Will before he could reach him, which she does again later by situating herself at the BSHCI while also protecting herself and her family. Will offers no rebuttal to Hannibal when Hannibal accuses him of trying to take his freedom; he can’t deny it but what caused him to seek Hannibal a second time, across the ocean, retribution or not, had no hidden cage at the end of it. His stream is removed from him as a place of serenity at the end of s2, he finds no comfort in it in s3, he does not attempt to even return to it, and yet water persists around him, through him, and eventually, he chooses it as a form of destruction fit not only for him but for Hannibal as well. 

Their fall, their “death”, is already considered a culmination and acceptance. It’s an embrace, a point I’m not contesting. But while we are witness to a plunge taken, there is no ripple and splash of impact, it as the though the sea had simply parted and accepted them without tension or protest. It could be said that the cliff face was one last crossroad; Will did not remove himself as Alana had, he simply ensured that Hannibal would accompany him on the reckless journey, a ship boarded again. Madness shared by two. 

[kyliafanfiction]

When Fallout 76 first got mentioned, and the whole 'you can launch nukes' aspect of the game was announced, etc, people were critical about it. And for some good reasons. But they also bitched about the lore logic of it, and like - that's silly? Video Games are always going to have a certain degree of Gameplay and Story Segregation, for one, and for another, MMOs are especially going to, especially when it comes to PvP type stuff and late endgame content, which the nukes were.

But there was also the contention that the nukes, and the fact that Appalachia isn't really mentioned in Fallouts 3 and 4, meant that obviously Appalachia was going to become a super irradiated hellscape by the time of Fallout 3, at least.

And I understand that argument, but also - not necessarily? Like, that's not a necessary explanation as to where Appalachia is, for Fallouts 3 and 4? Lots of places didn't get mentioned in both games, after all. It's clear that trade and travel between regions, while a thing, is limited. And frankly, given how hard life is, not a lot of people have a lot of mental bandwidth or reason to care about distant regions.

Obviously, the real answer is "the writers hadn't thought of it yet" which is always a valid answer? Serialized... anything is always going to run into that problem, you just have to work with it. Books, shows, movies, games, etc - sometimes, the writers just Didn't Think Of It Before™. Now, good writers will try to provide some explanation, where needed, but 'It just didn't come up' is also acceptable, in many cases.

For Fallout 4, well, Appalachia isn't exactly close to the Commonwealth, so that's why it never comes up? Like, sure, you'd think it would be mentioned, but... it's fine that it wasn't. Or at least mostly fine?

The Argument does have more traction for Fallout 3, since the Capital Wasteland is closer to Appalachia, but equally... it's still not needed? It's eminently believable that Appalachia could be doing mostly fine, even thriving, but the area around the DC ruins isn't. Like, sure, Appalachia probably has problems, but even if a state emerged in the region and got expansionistic, why would they expand into the Capital Wasteland? it's an absolute shit show of a place. Irradiated to hell and back, overrun by super mutants, and what exactly is the draw there? Expanding is expensive, especially in the Fallout Wasteland, so there' has to be a resource incentive to go there.

And the Capital Wasteland, during the game, doesn't really have it. Not on the scale of large states. Unless you know that Liberty Prime is under the Pentagon, anyway, or you're more desperate, or you're concerned about the symbolism of owning the ruins of DC why go there?

Like, even the major settlements of the Capital Wasteland are pretty recent, at least as large hubs - Megaton's wall wasn't built until 2241, and while there were people going back possibly decades more (Manya Vargas's grandfather was purportedly a founder, and she's apparently old in 2277), that still could only be sixty, seventy, eighty years. A 'Generation' is like 20-30 years, or something. Especially given the poor health, low life expectancy and how much the hard living of the wasteland might age someone, it really doesn't have to be that long. And Megaton's hardly worth invading for.

Tenpenny Tower was established by Mr. Tenpenny in his lifetime, and while again, he's old, he also wasn't like, a kid when it did it. Had to be established enough to have the resources to come and build it and all, after all.

Rivet City wasn't a thing until 2239.

So civilization, such as it is, at least beyond subsistence little communities scraping by, is probably not that old, in the Capital Wasteland? And it's not like a lot of people lived there in the short term after the bombs dropped, given how blasted the place was. Heck, in 76, we find out some people are coming from the Capital Wasteland to Appalachia! They literally called the Capital Wasteland "Hell on Earth" so there probably weren't a ton of people for a while in the region.

Appalachia could be doing just fine, chilling, doing their own thing and not really interacting with the Wasteland. There could be some trade happening, those caravans have to get their goods from somewhere outside the wasteland. There's just not a lot of reason to assume that Appalachia absolutely would be interacting with the Capital Wasteland, enough for it to be relevant, or something that would naturally come up in convo with the Lone Wanderer.

Yes, yes, it's 100% possible that Appalachia is a nuked out hellscape by 2277. Or that it's dealing with it's own problems, or that it's overrun by monsters or whatever, or just... not interested. Maybe it's not thriving, but it's still a going concern. But there's no real reason that it has to be that there's nothing there, by the 'present day' of Fallouts 3 and 4.

[gay-caesar-truther]

God, Gabe's emotional state is going to be a MESS.

cw: Mentions of suicidal ideation and general shitty mental health

He was finally feeling relatively okay - he was coming to accept his dad was here to stay, and doesn't hate him. Now this?

He's going to hate the mere concept of project purity for a good long while. He leaves and runs for the hills because he blames Project Purity for every single bad thing that has happened to him, and hopes the wasteland kills him.

He doesn't care if people suffer without it, hell he WANTS the wasteland to suffer for everything that's been taken from him. If D.C ends up as a barren lifeless husk because of his inaction? Fine. it's what the place deserves anyway.

He knows his father would hate him for this decision, it's going to eat at him for a while (and eventually make him come back) but for now all he can think about is- Why should he care how his father would feel about this? How much could his father have loved him anyway? He went through all this hell just to find him, stuck by his side like a scared child out of fear his dad either hates him or will leave again, and no matter how much Gabriel loved James and tried to be a Good Son, his dad chose Project Purity over him in the end. As Gabe sees it- his father clearly never cared about him (at least not More than Project Purity) so why should he care about letting him down anymore than he already has?

He genuinely and deeply hopes that anyone and anything that has come into contact with project purity burns to the ground.

He's angry, he's bitter, he's furious at himself.

If he'd not left his dad's side he could've defended him, or at the very least died in his place. Would've been better for the whole wasteland that way, would've been better for his dad that way- Seeing as Gabriel was clearly a burden to be shed (Not True, but Gabriel has abandonment issues)

He fucks off to Point Lookout- 1) to get as far away from Project Purity as humanly possible 2) In the hopes the place kills him. What has he got to fight for? Why not let the wasteland have it's way? The one person he had is gone, and he blames himself.

He feels lost, hopeless, and that his suffering is somehow deserved.

I think the only reason he's not going to take his own life is his Christian Upbringing. He thinks Suffering is noble, and a test he has to overcome and that suicide prevents you from getting into Heaven and is a coward's way out. He wants to die well, and in a manner like his father- noble self sacrifice for a greater goal. He wants to see his parents in another life, and finally have an afterlife free of suffering so he's not going to do anything to jeopardize that.

So even now, when he's angry and bitter and wants to see the wasteland suffer- He's still going to help, because it's all he knows and he HAS to. He's going to resent the people he's helping for even asking this of him, but he's going to help anyway because what else does he have.

[x688plsloveme]

Companions react to someone saying something Insanely insulting to them and a usually calm Sole loses their shit, as in whoops their ass?

In their pre-war profession, Sole learned to take a lot of shit. They even had a retail job when they were a teenager, so most of what the average wastelander could spit out was usually nothing in comparison.

They'd just pretend the person in front of them was a usual customer and tune them out until they were done. Most regarded them as having the patience of a saint. They just thought it was due to not growing up in an overly impatient wasteland.

Either way, Sole had never even come close to the volume that they used on this idiot.

No one talked bad about their friends, no one. So when they heard the insults thrown at one of their best friends? They went off. Hurling anything and everything that came to mind at the dumb wastelander that thought it was a good idea to mess with them and theirs.

ADA: Although she wasn't hurt by the random human she didn't even care to know, she was touched by Sole's anger on her behalf. She was a tad surprised that her usually mellow was acting in such a way, but quickly adapted to the situation. She allowed Sole to continue their loud ranting for a few moments longer until gently stopping them. "Before he urinated on himself." Was her excuse. Sole snorted and told her it'd be funny, but ultimately let him go because Ada was probably right.

CAIT: The only thing that could've stopped her from punching the waster's lights out herself was the shock she saw from her well mannered friend. It literally stopped her mid-punch. All she could do was look slack mouthed as Sole ripped into the man in front of them verbally. They were usually the one who told her to ease up on her aggression, so seeing this was a treat indeed.

CODSWORTH: The only other time he saw his sir/mum blow up so.... Loudly. Was when they thought their spouse was cheating on them. To see them so upset over someone calling a mere Mr Handy names...it was truly moving. He was sure to clean up around their settlement extra meticulously as thanks.

CURIE: Sole was a sweet person, particularly to her who didn't know the ways of the wasteland quite yet. They were always calm and collected and Curie always admired them for it. Especially in a proverbial hell hole such as this. So the loud, started gasp she let out at Sole's outburst was very much granted. She had a million questions running through her mind that she had to ask as soon as possible. And she did, right after Sole drove away the rude man that sparked their wrath.

DANSE: He was very grateful to his friend for sticking up for him so readily. He didn't have the best mental state, and it seemed Sole picked up on how the insults were affecting him. He guessed that someone that would save his life would care enough to stand up for him, but seeing it - especially from such a nice person - was something else. He gave them a very long hug afterwards.

DEACON: He feels like he should be most surprised of all, seeing as he had been following them up until they discovered the railroad. Not once has Sole ever raised their voice that high, let alone rudely and directed towards another person. He was frozen in place, completely shell shocked. It was only later that he realized they blew a fuse because of what that nobody waster was saying about him. He felt tears as he thought about how much Sole has to care about him even though they don't really know him. He vowed to tell them the real, genuine truth next time he saw them.

DOGMEAT: He was a smart dog, but not even he could keep up with all the strange words Sole used. He had no idea what a "mutfruit humper" was, but he did recognize the angry tone his owner was using. He decided to help by growling alongside Sole to back them up. He kept rapt attention to the now distressed waster that was the object of their wrath in case they tried anything funny. After the whole ordeal was over, Sole spoiled him a little harder than usual, much to his immense pleasure. Extra snacks are always a good thing in his book.

HANCOCK: "I always knew you had in in ya Sole!" He proceeds to laugh until his stomach hurts. Seeing someone as calm as Sole losing it? Comedy gold in his eyes. He does give his best friend a hug when they're done though. He appreciates them so, so much for caring about a worthless ghoul like him. Doesn't mean he's not gonna retell this story to each and everyone of Sole's friends though.

GAGE: When he heard the yelling, he just thought it was more raiders causing a ruckus as usual. But when he identified the voice as his one and only calm overboss, he did a double take. Even as the boss of raiders, he had never seen Sole blow up at anybody, let alone raise their voice. He knew they were loyal sort, but he didn't know it was to this extent. It made his otherwise cold heart warm a bit at the thought that he was one of the people his boss was fiercely loyal to.

LONGFELLOW: He didn't have many people close in his life, so Sole was like a ray of sunshine in an otherwise foggy world. They were very pleasant to get along with and actually seemed to enjoy his stories, which was rare with people that young. They would often sit next to each other in complete silence and just relax without any awkwardness whatsoever. He didn't believe what the others told him about them going ape-shit on people who've insulted their friends until he saw it himself. Now... He enjoyed the calm and quiet, but he would be a liar if this wasn't the funniest shit he'd ever seen. When they were done scaring away the waster that had the bad luck of running into them, he pat an out of breath Sole with a smile on his face.

MACCREADY: He always thought himself as a pretty laid-back guy, but not even he could hold a candle to have chill Sole was. He never ever ever thought he'd EVER see them yell at somebody over a couple insults. Sure, they were directed at a close friend, but it was still jarring. Heck, seeing them flip reminded him of his younger years when the Lone Wanderer would scold him for being rude. He almost let out a few involuntary sorrys himself.

PIPER: As someone who liked getting Intel on everyone and everything, Piper was curious to what Sole looked like when they got truly mad. She heard everything from amusing to scary and just about everything in between, but all she wanted to do was see it for herself. It took a while of her tagging along whenever Sole went, but it was well worth it when some rando finally picked on her bad enough that it send Sole over the edge. Seeing it for herself, she could attest that all of their comments were correct ones.

PRESTON: He didn't like yelling at all, which is part of the reason he enjoyed Sole's company so much. He had never seen anyone so composed while face danger or the rare rude retort. They always took care of it gracefully. No one glanced twice at a mere minuteman soldier like himself, so he had never been witness to one of Sole's rare "blow ups" that he had heard from some of their other friends. But the day it happened.... Well let's just say he was very humbled for not only being cared about so much, but also the sheer force of their yelling was scary enough to remind him of him mother whenever his siblings got into trouble.

STRONG: Needless to say, he is very happy with these turn of events even if he doesn't quite grasp why Sole is doing this. As it stands, it hypes him up to the point that he joins in the yelling and the two of them make whoever was foolish enough to insult him in front of Sole scared out of their minds.

VALENTINE: He always appreciated how calm and collected his friend was. They were always on the same page in that sense. Never letting anything bother them for too long, even if it was truly personal. Just looking ahead and forgetting about things that could sway them from their goals. Nothing could have surprised him more than Sole suddenly started screaming at a particularly rude waster that would not leave him alone. He didn't even know his friend was there until they started screaming. It made him happy to know that the one time they lose their cool, it was for him.

X6-88: No one admires Sole like he does. There's no one else that could earn his respect, let alone friendship. His friend was always on his wavelength - serene and collected in even the most stressful situations. Sure, no one had insulted him quite like the random waster, but he was ready to scoff and brush him off like any other. He refused to admit that he was hurt even slightly, but it seemed like Sole was as sharp as ever and picked up on it. He never in a million years would've guessed that they could carefully and precisely cut into a person with mere words. But he also never guessed that Sole would ever raise their voice so he supposes surprises are a given. As he watched his one and only friend defend him, he let a small, rare smile show on his face.

[chaseatinydream]

pirate king (45) || atz

The stunned silence brought on by the ludicrous request is broken by Commander Kang actually adding on to that preposterous behest. Even in your own stupefied daze, you somehow manage to hear the next words that leave the commander’s mouth.

“I also want my son, Kang Yeosang.”

Every thought flees your mind all at once, leaving only a barren mental landscape behind, a mere deserted wasteland. Time seems to slow down for you, air turning liquid as the words drift over to you gently like a fallen leaf swirling and eddying on the surface of a still lake. A moment of eerie calm is all you get, before the actual meaning of the words, with all the force of a sledgehammer, smash into you harder than a battering ram.

You’re terrified.

Numb, predatory fear prowls into your mind, nestling and rooting itself there before you can finally register its presence. It’s tormenting you, torturing you. Your base instinct screams at you to flee as fast as you can possibly run before this man can get his hands on you, but your legs are frozen to the deck. You can’t even scream if you wanted to, let alone run, and even if you could, where would you run to?

Your mind is pulled and twisted by fear and anxiety in all directions, but as much as you hate to admit it, doubt wells up in you.

Yes, you know that the crew think of you as one of their own. Yes, you think that they truly do care about you and that they would, under some of the harshest circumstances, never sacrifice you for their own interests.

But in response to this deal? The reward is too enticing, as alluring as fresh nectar to a honey bee. How do you even refuse an offer like this? Hell, you’re tempted to take the deal yourself, even if it means sacrificing yourself in the process. One crew member of the ship for the safety and security of the entire crew? When will you ever get another offer like that?

However noble you may want your intentions to be, though, you know that you’re selfish.

Because deep in you, you’re desperately wishing that your captain turns it down.

No matter how selfish that makes you, no matter what your crew has to give up, part of you is terrified of dying. It’s more than a mere survival instinct, more of a deep seated desire rooting in you. You can’t die, not now, not when you’re nowhere near the end of your journey-

At your own trail of thought, something claws at your heart, so painfully you actually feel it in your body. Shocked panic runs through you at the words that have just passed through your mind, because when you try to figure out exactly what they mean, the pain in your head grows more and more, from a mere throbbing to an agonising pounding of your mind.

Journey?

But before you can think your brain into a catatonic state, your captain speaks up, his voice trembling with fury, knuckles white around the handle of his cutlass as if he can’t wait to slice the man before him into a million tiny pieces. Even if it’s not aimed at you, the incensed, red hot rage is all too clear in his words, sending a shiver down your spine as your survival instinct screams at you to bolt.

“What. Do. You. Want. With. Them.”

Every syllable is shaking with vengeful fury, as if he can’t wait to rain hell’s wrath upon the Commander, but Kang Yongsun merely stands his ground calmly, eyeing the captain with a cool, collected gaze.

“I want my son back with me for personal reasons-” He begins, but San finally snaps, lunging forward furiously before Jongho catches him by the arm, yanking him back even though you can see from the battlemaster’s furious expression, he wants nothing more than to bludgeon the man before him to a bloody pulp as well.

“How dare you call him your son that after you were the one who abandoned him in the first place?” San screams, writhing against Jongho’s grip, his usually calm demeanour completely shattered into smithereens. For such a lithe man, your master is surprisingly strong, nearly wriggling out of Jongho’s hold before the young battlemaster catches him once again. “You f*cking destroyed him when you betrayed him like that! You’re a heartless liar!”

You too, can feel anger rising up in you even through your numb shock. From the little you had glimpsed of Yeosang’s memories, the navigator had truly looked up to his father, loved him dearly though he’d gone years without seeing his face, idolised him, even. When he had been given over to the Pirate King as the object of a deal, you had felt everything within him shatter like glass.

Yeosang had truly almost been destroyed beyond repair.

“It is not my problem that Yeosang was foolish and believed that I loved him.” His father states dispassionately, as if he doesn’t care the least about his only son. Horror and disbelief runs through you as you stare at the man. How can any human being be so… inhumane? “I never told him I loved him, so I’ve never lied to him in the least.”

Your heart drops in your chest. This man…

“Let me go, Jongho, let me kill that bastard! He thought you loved him!” San continues howling in rage, thrashing against the younger battlemaster. You’ve never seen your master in such an uncontrolled manner, and he’s not even drunk. “Yeosang almost starved himself to death the first few months he was on the ship because of this shithole, I’m going to kill him-”

“Mingi, bring San to my cabin and help me keep him there for now.” Your captain says coldly, obviously noting that Mingi’s barely restraining himself from swinging that huge axe and chopping Commander Kang right in half, seething with white knuckled fury. The quartermaster, clearly knowing that he’s going to do something reckless if he stays here any longer, merely grabs San around the middle and hoists him into the air, carrying him away from the main deck to the captain’s cabin, San screaming and swearing the whole way.

“And don’t you dare touch my apprentice! I’ll hunt you down to the ends of the earth and destroy you, you asshole-”

The cabin door slams shut, effectively cutting off the sounds of your master’s fury.

Then your captain turns back to the commander, who looks completely unruffled by San’s accusations and screams. For a moment, you’re actually terrified at how stony this man’s face is. His facade is as cold as ice, to the point it almost unnerves you. It’s nothing like the silent calm Yeosang possesses, but he instead has a far more menacing, emotionless demeanour, as if he’s more golem than you are.

You imagine yourself like that, briefly, for a moment. A body of clay, with silent, unblinking, dispassionate eyes. More soulless than any human being around you.

The mere thought of it scares you.

“And what do you want with Chin Hae?” Your captain then adds on with gritted teeth, barely managing to cling on to his own facade of calm. At the sound of your name, your hands start to shake from fear, but then Yunho takes your hand in his, gripping it tight.

You turn slowly to look at him, knowing that you probably look like the day you had first met, terrified of the death that was ever so imminent in that alley back in Raguza, except this time your fate lies not in your hands, but your captain’s.

Yunho meets your eyes with a nervous, uneasy gaze, but when he speaks, his voice is full of surety.

“Hongjoong-hyung would never give you or Yeosang up, no matter the price.”

And you believe him. Your captain had already endured so much for you and the crew, if not him, who else could you possibly trust with your life? His actions spoke louder than words, with his body he had already shown you his dedication to his crew back in Nassau. With the determination he had plunged straight into the sea witch’s den, you knew he was willing to give up so much for you.

Yes. Your captain would not accept this deal. You believe that, at the very least.

“I cannot answer.” Commander Kang answers calmly, but from his words alone you can tell he’s not lying in the least. “My superior officer has ordered for it, so I obey his orders without question.”

“Like a obedient dog cowed into mindless submission.” Jongho snarls mockingly, grounding the end of his mace against the deck. But Kang Yongsun doesn’t react to the sneer at all, instead nodding in agreement with the statement.

“I do my job as required of me.” He replies, his voice completely devoid of emotion, before turning back to look at your seething captain, his one eye now a bright, venomous green. “But even if you do not give the woman Chin Hae up to the Royal Navy in a deal, we will still be forced to hunt her down anyway. She has a bounty on her head as well.”

At that, Hongjoong actually flinches in shock. You yourself are confused, why would you of all people be targeted specifically by the Royal Navy? In comparison to all the other members of the crew, you’ve not committed as many crimes as they have, so why you?

“How much is it? The bounty.” Your captain demands tonelessly, and Commander Kang opens his mouth to answer.

And with his next words, you feel your mind melt into a puddle of incomprehension.

“One thousand gold pieces.”

You nearly spit blood in shock, and from the way Yunho’s body goes entire rigid, he’s just as stunned as you. One thousand gold pieces, you imagine blearily, as if you can’t think straight anymore. You must be going crazy.

It can’t be possible. You’d heard from Yunho that the bounty on the captain himself is five hundred gold pieces, wanted alive by the Crown. How can your bounty be twice the price of your captain’s?

That’s it. You’re either dreaming, drunk, going deaf or crazy, because you can’t be hearing any of this. None of it makes sense.

Commander Kang continues calmly, as if he hasn’t just dropped the biggest bombshell of the century on every person on board this ship simultaneously. “And our orders are to take her back alive, so you needn’t worry about her being killed in our hands-”

Hongjoong lunges with his cutlass faster than your eye can see.

There’s a clang of steel against steel as Commander Kang raises his blade just in the nick of time to save himself from being split from head to toe by the edge of your captain’s sword. Even for a man well past his prime, the Commander must obviously still be fighting fit, because his arms only tremble slightly when he holds his sword steady against your captain’s overhead slash.

They stand there for a moment, locked in some sort of stalemate, before the two of them pull apart, swords levelled at each other.

You realise that this is the first time you’ve seen your captain in action. Not the playful mock duels that he, Yunho and Jongho have on deck with the crew cheering them from the sides, betting on who would win, but an actual fight in which your captain’s eye is completely cold and calculating, reading his opponent’s every move, predicting every strike. Adrenaline floods your veins from the sheer tension in the air, but you’re frozen with numb shock.

Nobody moves as the two captains exchanged dark looks, charged to the brim with unspoken meaning.

“I should kill you where you stand.” Hongjoong hisses, lips bared in a snarl. But Commander Kang simply smiles through gritted teeth, keeping his blade at the ready for another surprise strike from your captain.

“But I’m the only one who knows why the Royal Navy wants the woman.”

You don’t think you’ve ever seen your captain so incensed.

“Her name. Is. Chin. Hae.”

Whirling around, Hongjoong lunges forward with a flick of his wrist, the cutlass darting out like a snake’s tongue, ready to cut at least some part of his opponent’s sword arm off, but then the hooded man from the side slides between your captain and the commander in the blink of an eye, the longsword in his hands stopping the cutlass dead in its tracks.

The hood falls from the man’s head, revealing soft brown curls, soft, sweet features and a gentle nose, deep brown eyes that seem all too familiar to you even though you’ve never seen the man before in your life.

Why are they so familiar?

Because you’ve seen them on someone else before.

There are three rings braided in his hair, brushing his temple lightly.

Next to you, Yunho freezes, eyes going wide as if he’s seen a ghost. The spear actually goes clattering from his trembling hands to the deck, the sound unnaturally loud in your ears, his face turning white as a sheet as he manages to utter just a single word in disbelief, barely above a whisper.

“Gunho?”

On a ship somewhere in the middle of an ocean, a man sits silently in the cabin with his eyes closed.

He’s so still he might just be a statue, completely motionless. If it weren’t for the slight rise and fall of his chest, he could have been mistaken for a dead body. A minute passes, then two, the water clock in the corner making soft noises as it keeps track of the time.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Suddenly, the man’s eyes slide open, a sinister smile curling on his lips as he breathes in deeply, resting his chin on his fingers, the picture of calm and composure. However, his eyes dance with a terrifying, maniacal light, his deep blue eyes glowing ever so slightly in the dim room with some sort of unearthly gleam.

“The prophecy is finally coming to pass.” He sighs in pleasure, the dangerous purr of his voice like silk dragged across skin. “I knew you would do me proud... my son.”

There’s a knock on the door and he rises to his feet, stepping across the room. Soon, he will be free of all of this, he deserves more, so much more, he’s going to be the one with dominion over the-

“Captain! We’ve caught its trail!”

Twisted, depraved glee rises in him as his fingers dance on the hilt of the silver knife at his side excitedly. He pushes the door of the cabin opening, the sun’s rays crushed under his feet as he steps forward to the main deck, watching the sea of blue all about him.

He drags his tongue against the blade, a deranged grin on his lips as he seeks out his next prey. The sirens are easy targets, but they don’t yield nearly enough.

“Let’s go kill the hafgufa.”

[colorfullfalls]

Me & You

Summary: Calum’s best friend internally pinned after him for years. At a party she finds out that Calum is seeing someone and her heart breaks. Except Harry Styles is there to make her feel better.

Calum and Y/N. A phrase heard so much to the people that knew them. Growing up as neighbors, they were the definition of a team. Y/N was the one who taught Calum how to whistle, he taught her how to ride a bike. Childhood memories engraved in their minds bonded the two together like magnets.

Calum took Y/N with them when they left as a band. She had a rough life at home and he wanted her out of there. Since then the Hood’s and the band became her family.

“Y/N, what are you doing? That is not how to hang up a balloon.” Calum laughed out, pointing to the balloon that was only half taped on.

She blew hair out of her face, her hands falling to rest on her waist. She gave him an exasperated look, “How else do you suppose to do it, Hood? You can’t put a tack in it, it’ll pop!”

Calum playfully pushed her out of the way and tacked the part that was tied off to keep the air from zooming out. He successfully completed the task and gave her a smug grin.

“It’s almost like it worked...”

She shoved his shoulder as she walked past him to stir the Buffalo dip in the crock pot, “Fuck off mate, I really tried my best.”

Calum paused at her words. He knew she was joking and her tone matched, but he did feel sort of bad. When he called her to ask about throwing a surprise party for Ashton’s birthday, she immediately was on board. She bought decorations, the cake, and helped him invite everyone. She really was trying her best.

“You are the most wonderful friend I’ll ever have.” He softly said, turning her to bop her nose before giving her a hug.

Her insides fluttered at the way his voice sounded so honest. She already loved him with all of heart and him saying shit like that didn’t help it. Because she over thought things- well everything. Especially when it came to them and their friendship.

All the other boys in the band had serious girlfriends that they were building their life with. Sure, Cal had girlfriends along the way- much to her dismay, but he wasn’t seeing anyone and hadn’t in about two years or so. Maybe he was holding out for her? She knew it was a outlandish idea but was it really? They grew up together, did everything together, and she developed feelings so was it too wild if he did too?

She relished the feeling of his arms wrapped around her. He smelled so nice all of the time and the scent was uniquely just him. Her trust in people was hesitant due to her parents but Calum was the one true person who she was completely vulnerable to. The boys were close but not to the level of trust she gave to the man in front of her.

He pulled away when he heard the bell ring, “People are arriving, my lovely Y/N. Shall we go greet them?” Calum mocked in a posh accent.

An hour later everyone was finally at the party, well besides Ashton. Y/N saw that Harry Styles was there and she offered him a smile as he walked up next to her. He gave her a warm hug, his hands resting comfortably against her back. His warm skin burned through her shirt and she mentally sighed when he pulled away.

“It’s been a while since we’ve seen eachotha love.” He said, offering his boyish grin that killed his fans.

Her and Harry hung out during the tour when 5sos joined them. While the boys were playing on stage, he would stand and watch with her. During that tour they became pretty good friends, and he did his best to keep up with her. Only a few noticed, but Harry always kept his eye out for her, but it was hard to get her without Calum.

“Last I saw you, you were just about to release Fine Line.” She spoke.

“I remember, ran into you while walking home. Have you listened to any of it?” He asked almost sheepishly, shoving his hands into his pockets.

Y/N now just noticed how nicely dressed he was. His black flowy pants went well his nice long sleeve butto up baby blue shirt. The first couple buttons were undone to reveal his beautiful chest. She felt her eyes drift, but quickly looked up at his green eyes.

She wasn’t stupid, Harry was absolutely beautiful. His beauty radiated and his personality amplified that by one thousand. He was mature, deep, and kind but also had a playful boyish side. And sass, lots of sass added to it. He made sure to check up on her weekly and she knew that he would help her with anything she asked.

She’d fall for him if it wasn’t for Calum.

“Harry, who hasn’t heard that whole album in it’s entirety? It’s amazing, man! Cherry melted me in the best way. Putting Camille’s voice in it? Genius. You put your heart into your music and it really shows...” you blushed slightly as you realized that you just gushed over him.

He shrugged his shoulders at your praise in the humble way that only Harry Styles could. His green eyes twinkled in the light at the idea of Y/N adoring his album. Songs that were a part of him.

He wanted to admit that Sunflower, Vol 6. and Golden were about her. That she inspired him to form lyrics that made people feel the same love he felt. She was his muse and she didn’t even know it. Harry wanted to tell her, but he wasn’t blind. Something was between her and Calum.

He respected Calum and didn’t want to interfere, but it was hard when his feelings never went away. And not there she stood so pretty in front of him, telling her that she listened to his music. That she loved Cherry. It was ironic that she mentioned the one about his ex but not the the two written solely about his thoughts surrounding her.

“Means so much to me that you enjoy it. I was actually wondering if you wanted to co-write a song with me for my next album?” He said, his left hand playing with the rings on his right.

Her lips quirked into a pure smile, “Me? Harry..”

“Don’t be bashful, I know you help write with the boys, even if you don’t let the public know.. Ash told me about it when we got drunk a year ago.” He admitted.

She scoffed, “I’m gonna hurt him....”

“So, what do you say? It can literally be about anything. It’ll be perfect. I’ll even buy you dinner over it.”

She paused before replying. Helping Harry with a song sounded fun and like a good opportunity to actually work with other artists, but it was a vulnerable thing. Sure, the two have had deep talks while high or drunk, but this would be a whole different thing. The last song she had worked on was Best Years and she thought of Calum the whole time writing it. That’s why it was so easily to spill out because he was across from her the whole time.

“If I write a song with you, do you promise to make sure I don’t get too drunk tonight? Because I have to go grocery shopping tomorrow and doing that hungover would just suck...” she said, making Harry clap in excitement.

“We have a deal, love.”

He extended his hand and they shook on it.

Y/N glanced over to where Calum was when she saw an unfamiliar woman standing beside him. She didn’t recognize her and honestly she was confused. Calum always told her when he met someone and he never told Y/N about her.

Harry followed her gaze and noticed the woman too, “Who’s that?”

Y/N crossed her arms, “No freaking clue...”

Calum caught their eyes and waved before grabbing her hand and brining her to them. Y/N’s eyes widened at their intertwined fingers, emotional pain twisting around her guts.

“Hey guys, this is my girlfriend, Maya.”He said, raising their joint hands as they both smiled from ear to ear. Y/N wanted to puke.

Maya was wicked beautiful. Her short baby blue hair matched Harry’s button up shirt. The color suddenly seemed unappealing to Y/N. Not only was Maya’s hair cool, but she had a dope septum piercing and had piercings and tattoos. Her beautiful hazel eyes smiled with genuine kindness and Y/N wanted to run away.

Calum was dating someone, but it wasn’t her. Y/N scolded herself for not preparing herself for this exact situation. Calum Hood was a beautiful man with a beautiful heart and wicked talent, of course he would find someone. She had just been dumb enough believe it would’ve been her.

Calum sensed Y/N’s unease and he suddenly felt bad for not giving her a heads up. He started seeing Maya two months ago and wanted to make sure it was solid before he had her meet the people so dear to him. He realized that was a mistake.

“I didn’t know you were seeing anyone.” Harry stated what Y/N wanted to but couldn’t.

Calum sheepishly shrugged as he looked at the hurt on his best friend’s face, “Sometimes things are better kept a secret.”

Anger swirled around Y/N like quicksand encapsulating her entire body. She wanted to punch him. Couldn’t he see the pain in her eyes and he had to joke about it and say something stupid like that? How could he be so daft about how she felt for him? He was her world.

She loved him with all of her being; however, at this moment she wanted to never see him again. She wasn’t the best at handling her emotions, so this pain transferred to anger.

Y/N rolled her eyes, “Sometimes friendships aren’t what you think they are. It was nice meeting you, Maya. Come on, Harry.”

She grabbed Harry’s hand and stalked off to the balcony of the house. The British lad followed silently behind her, willing to do anything she needed. As selfish as it was, he was glad to be the one she seemed comfort from.

Crocodile tears slipped out of her eyes as she wiped at them in an embarrassed and frustrated manor. She looked out at the hills of California and grumbled under her breath about love being dumb. Harry quietly shut the sliding glass door and walked over to lean on the railing beside her.

“You’re in love with him.” He softly stated.

She let out a pitiful laugh, “That obvious?”

He didn’t reply for a moment. Instead he took the time to observe her, and his heart stung at the sight in front of him. Her eyes were no longer the vast universe before him that made him believe that life was eternal, instead they were a sunken wasteland filled with sorrow.

Her knuckles were white from how hard she was making fists and her leg was bouncing up and down with anxiety. Harry recalled the one other time he saw her like this. It was when they got a late dinner together and her mom somehow called her.

He hated seeing her upset then and he hates it even more now.

“If you don’t show that you care about someone, you’re not human. Calum is your best friend that has been by your side, it’s natural to catch feelings. And you shouldn’t feel ashamed about it either, hun. Your feelings are valid, it’s understandable to be crushed right now.” His hands gently took hers and flattened them out so that hers would no longer be in fists.

“I’m in love with him.” She choked out, turning to maneuver herself into his embrace. His strong arms wrapped around her back and she clutched tightly to his shirt. She felt the skin of his chest against her cheek as she nuzzled into him.

Sobs shook her body as his left hand rose to lovingly play with her hair. Y/N was glad that Harry was there for her in this time. She knew she couldn’t go to one of the boys because it wasn’t fair to put them in the middle of this.

“I know, I know.” He muttered, glancing inside the house to see that Calum was standing with Luke and Michael. The three boys were starting back at him, all of their faces held regret.

“I-I thought that maybe he loved me too. Every song we wrote, I thought of him. His little gifts and sudden spurs of adventure he whisked me away on, I thought that it was special between us..”

Harry’s heart felt like it got punched. The girl he was head over heels was currently heart broken over his friend. He wanted to tell Calum off for missing out on what he absolutely wished he could have. Calum had his dream girl wrapped around his finger and the dude didn’t even know it.

Harry himself was surprised that Calum wasn’t in love with her too. She was just.. the best. She was adaptive to their life style, good with the fame aspect of their life, she was nerdy in the best ways, so humble and grateful that it was intoxicating to be around her, and she was so genuine. Calum was a fool to not see what was right in front of him. Blind not to see that such a wonderful human being loved him with every fucking inch of her soul.

He saw Calum move towards the door and Harry felt an instinct to get Y/N the hell away from him. He didn’t want her to have to see him and he knew that he couldn’t even look Calum in the eyes without feeling anger even if it wasn’t exactly fair.

Calum hesitated when he saw the death glare that Harry was unknowingly giving him.

Calum knew that Harry was smitten with his best friend. It was apparent that Harry always went out of his way to call her or get drinks when he was home. Hell, Harry had sent her a gift when he went to Japan because he knew it was her favorite place when she went with the band. It was zero surprise that he would feel protective over a crying Y/N.

Calum just wanted to talk to her.

Luke and Michael walked over with somber eyes as they noticed that this situation would not be dealt with tonight.

“Calum, don’t go out there. She’s hurt, man. Give her some time.” Luke gently warned, grabbing his arm.

“I feel so bad. I know she’s hurt but I didn’t think she would be this hurt from me not telling her that I met Maya. I thought maybe she would be a bit happy for me..” he trailed off at Luke’s facial expression.

“She’s fucking in love with you, mate. Why are you the only one who doesn’t see that?” Luke raised his hands in an exasperated manner.

“What?! No? Y/N? She’s not in love with me. It’s not like that.” Calum defended, glancing over at his best friend in the world sobbing in Harry’s arms.

“Seriously Cal?” Michael deadpanned, “You can’t be that stupid.”

Calum rolled his eyes, “Wouldn’t I fucking know if my best friend was in love with me?”

Michael laughed sarcastically as Luke awkwardly shoved his hands in his pockets. Calum sighed at their behavior.

“Apparently not mate. You know how it’s obvious to us that Harry fancies Y/N? Well we could tell when it came to her with you.” Michael explained.

“Why didn’t you say anything? Why couldn’t I tell?” Calum asked.

Luke blew air out of his mouth as he tried to think of how to explain it, “Cal, it wasn’t for us to say. God, you and Y/N pick the worst times to be in love with each other.”

Calum’s tongue poked out to wet his lips. He was annoyed that Luke even brought that up. Growing up Calum was enamored by his beautiful Y/N and he knew that he was in love with her when he was about sixteen years old. She was so supportive and always there, and she made the rough times optimistic and fun.

Unluckily for him, at the time he realized they were on tour with one direction and she went off with Harry a lot. Calum felt like he couldn’t compete so he didn’t say anything. Plus he felt sick at the idea of scaring her off. Over time he got over it and moved on because he was sure she didn’t feel the same way.

Now years later she falls in love with him?

“Things would’ve been easier if I would’ve went for it as a teenager... huh?” Cal asked, dumbfounded.

“Probably. Do you... do you still feel the same way? Because you got Y/N out there crying and Maya over there trying to talk to people she doesn’t know.” Luke pointed over to Maya.

Calum couldn’t help but smile over at his girlfriend. He felt so warm and fuzzy around her. She was so fucking cool, and he was proud that she was here with him. But that feeling was dulled down when he looked out on the balcony. Seeing Y/N cry could ruin his happiness at any time.

But it wasn’t because he was in love with her. He used to be, but now he fiercely loved her in a family kind of way. He forced himself to move on from her and the damage was already done. He desperately wished that she would’ve felt the same back in the day because maybe things would’ve worked out. But now he has a girlfriend and she’s out on his balcony crying.

“I’m not in love with her, but I care about her more than probably anyone else.” Calum admitted, “It fucking hurts to see her so upset.”

The door opened up and Ashton walked in, his hand came up to his chest from being startled at how many people were in the apartment. He grinned as Calum walked over and gave him a hug.

“Happy birthday, mate.” He said.

Ashton giggled, “You fucker!” He pulled Calum into a tight hug of appreciation.

Y/N stopped crying when she saw Ashton walk inside. Ashton deserved this party and she wasn’t about to ruin it. He was the type of friend that would do anything for anyone. He was the sun coordinating the planets, making them more efficiently. At the same time he was the moon, luring over loved ones in dark times to offer any sort of help; emotional or physical.

Ashton deserved all the good in this world and she wasn’t about to fuck it up over crying over a man. She thought about all the tik toks joking about gagging after crying over men, and that made her feel a bit better.

Y/N would suck it up for now and go give Ashton a hug because he was worth it.

Harry pulled away slightly when he saw that Ashton arrived too. He glanced down at Y/N and she gave him a small nod and a smile.

Harry once read that your body naturally rejects a potential mate that isn’t a match. Effects are; nervousness, unease, and weariness. Apparently the theory goes that if someone is right for you, being around them gives off a sense of contentment and peace. You don’t have to get overly excited around them to the point that you feel sick. Rather you sense of feeling at home with them.

That’s how Harry felt with Y/N. His past girlfriends he loved-sure. He was heartbroken when things ended with Camille, but he didn’t have that sense of calmness with her. Not like he had around Y/N.

He was utterly fucking stuck on her. She was the one.

He managed to feel this way for years without it ever going away. That had to mean something. His mom once told him that shit happens for a reason. Calum not loving her back like that could shift her to Harry. And as fucked up as that idea was, and how down right cruel it was, he hoped it was true.

“I need to go see Ash..” she paused, glancing up into his green eyes. Right then Harry knew that she was about to ask him to go along with her.

“Let’s go, c’mon love. I’m right here with ya.” He soothingly assured, grabbing her hand.

Together the pair made their way inside to where the party was happening. Y/N noticed that Maya was standing beside Calum, his arm wrapped around her waist. She clutched tightly onto Harry’s hand as a sharp pain zapped her in the chest. His thumb rubbed against her skin in reassurance.

“Y/N’s coming.” Michael whispered to Calum. He immediately dropped his arm from around his waist and shot a look to Maya saying that he would explain at a different time.

He tried to offer a smile to his sad friend but she refused to meet his eyes. Instead she moved to stand by Ashton, causing the groups attention to go to her. No one failed to notice Harry’s hand was gripping Y/N’s.

Harry seemed like a protective guard dog that was on edge when a stranger walked past its owner.

“There you are! I was wondering where the hell you were! Also, I’m gonna kill you, Cal said you did most of the work for this.” Ash teased, making Y/N’s lips quirk into a genuine grin.

“You’re gonna kill me? No buddy, it’s the other way around! You told Harry that I helped write your albums.” She accusingly joked, jabbing the black haired man in front of her on his chest.!

Ashton burst into laughter, “Harry, mate, that was a secret. Cant trust no one..”

Harry smiled in his charming boyish way, his red nails on show as he lifted his hands to shrug as if it was no big deal, “Maybe I wanted a share of her writing talent.”

Michael looked at Luke with wide eyes. Holy shit, Harry just pulled out a wild card. Could the British man not even hide how enamored he was with their friend? Michael admired his confidence to ask Y/N to write with him. Writing was something you had to have complete trust in with a person, and the proccess undoubtedly bonded souls.

Y/N blushed after Harry’s claim that her writing held any sort of talent. She usually went with the flow and the words poured out.

“You gonna do it? Help him write a song?” Luke asked

“She said yes. Unless she was fuckin’ with meh.” Harry said, side eyeing the woman next to him. He saw her laugh and he internally gave himself bonus points for being able to do that while she was so down in the dumps.

“Dinners involved with the deal so I jumped on it.” Her attention turned to Harry, “As long as it’s not Chick-tik-A. Their food sucks and they’re a company against homosexuals.... that’s a no from me dawg.”

Harry smiled, knowing that Y/N was feeling better.

“That’s great, bub. I’m super proud of you. I know the song will be a fucking hit.” Calum said, shifting his head to look at her.

For the first time she raised her eyes and sadly smiled at him, “Thanks Cal...”

****************

Months later and Y/N was truly doing better. Her heart still hurt a bit from Calum but she was gradually getting over it. Seeing him wasn’t to the same point of familiarity as it used to be, but the two friends were working it out as best as they could.

And truth be told, Y/N liked Maya. Maya was honestly a good match for Calum, as annoying as it was.

And Y/N didn’t have time to be upset because Harry had her too busy with constant adventures and late nights. She appreciated it. She appreciated him.

Tonight he took her to the poetry cafe that they liked. It’s small little place at the end of L.A. He said he found it one day when he was walking alone, pretty sad and feeling alone. Stumbled across the joint and found a deep connection to it. He explained how much it meant to him and it soon became important to her too.

The dim glowing lights brought upon a comforting blanket of support and trust to whomever dared to enter such a vulnerable place. Those who stood on the pedestal of expression compiled their feelings into a glorious ballad.

Harry and Y/N sat at the small table in the back, matching style ball caps sat upon their heads. His a pretty purple and hers a yellow. He told her that it would be better if they kept their identies more hidden.

Their chairs were moved to sit closer next to each other so that their hands could intertwine. They held hands a lot because it was comforting and felt so so so right. His thumb rubbed against her hand as another young woman stood up to go.

I was alone

Felt like no one cared

Ate dinner for one and cried tears enough for two

But something changed in my life

Because there was you

Y/N stopped listening as the woman’s words soaked past her skin, muscles, bones, and swirled to embed into her soul. These words were ones that she personally related with. Sure she had friends but she was so lonely when it came to romance. Until recently.

She wasn’t certain what was going on with her and Harry, but she felt herself caring more and more until the point that he became her number one. She talked to him the most, saw him the most, and for fucks sake she thought about him the most.

He seemed to always be on her mind. If she found a cute sweater she would think about how Harry would wear it with his pearl necklace. Saw a dog? Awh, he would love to pet it. Tasted red wine? She’d think about the time that he spilled it on his counter and acted surprised when she licked it off, claiming that it couldn’t go to waste. If she looked at anyone attractive, she couldn’t help compare them to Harry.

It was exciting. Moving on from Calum and to Harry was new and it brought upon a lot of foreign feelings. As great as all that was, there was a worrisome idea lodged in her head. Could Harry just be acting as a good friend like Calum had? She wasn’t sure and she was too much of a wuss to figure it out.

Harry detached his hand to start clapping along with the crowd as the woman said her thank you and walked off the stage. Y/N blinked back to reality as Harry turned to her.

“That was beautiful, really raw and genuine.” He spoke, offering a smile that showed his perfectly arranged white teeth.

“Yeah, it- it really was.” She was doing a horrible job at convincing him that she actually paid attention to it.

“Love, I’m not incompetent , I know you weren’t listening- you’re too caught up in ya head. What’s going in there?” His fingers slotted within hers, his blue nails the same shade as hers. She painted both sets last night when she went over for dinner.

How could a woman look at a man and explain that she was falling in love with him, but she was scared because last time she was in love she got hurt- she thinks she loves him but she doesn’t want him to think he was a rebound.

She felt humiliated, her eyes avoiding his. The open sign on the window was suddenly the most amazing thing to look at.

“Y/N, dear? Talk to me.” His lips were so close to her ear that she could feel his breath when he spoke.

“My heart is in your hands and that’s fucking terrifying to me because, well, we saw how that went last time.” She muttered, still not looking at him but rather the other people there with their significant others.

Harry was suddenly standing up and pulling her out of the small cafe during a poetic interpretation about being bound to your family.

Her heart dropped to her stomach as the wind bit at her soft skin. She fucked up. She really stupendously fucked this good thing that was going on between them. She must’ve misinterpreted his good nature for feelings and was a stupid bitch that fell for it.

He pulled out the outside patio chair and sat her down. She gave him a quizzical look as he moved her legs apart so that he could sit in between them on the concrete.

Reseda green windows to the soul gazed into her, tears pooling around them. His cheeks were puffy and red. He was visibly upset.

“I’m so sorry, Harry. I didn’t mean to make you cry like this, I shouldn’t have said anything to you-“ she rambled in desperate need to fix this situation before she lost him completely.

“Shhh. Not the least bit upset, ‘m crying because you’re my soulmate.”

Her eyes widened in shock, a forceful cough ripping out of her throat at his confession. He soothed her, handing her his water to take a sip. She waved his hand away to signal that she was fine.

“Mum told me that Buddhists say if you meet somebody and your heart pounds, your hands shake, your knees go weak, that's not the one. When you meet your soul mate, you'll feel calm. No anxiety, no agitation. First time we shared a conversation i only felt peace and contentment. When I’m not with you, my mindset is off. I don’t like being away from you for long. I worry if you’re okay or I wonder if you are reading a book that’s making you sad. You get so into your books, love. The empathy doesn’t stop when it comes to characters.”

She slightly laughed as she recalled the time he waltzed in on her crying because your character in your book was alone on their birthday. He immediately was making her a cup of tea and bugging her about if something happened with work.

“I’ve been waiting for you for years. Honestly was hopelessly pinning after you. Like everyone knew but you. So when you admit you feel the same way...I got emotional.” He softly said, playing with the rings on his hand.

Her hands itched to be the ones twisting his fingers around. So she did. His hands melted into the skin of hers as he grabbed them. Her thumb twirled his left middle finger’s black band. He blushed at the feeling. She did tend to do this when they were submerged in a deep conversation.

“You’re an emotional man, Har. Endearingly so. I admire it more than you’d think.” She retorted.

Harry sat up so that he was sitting more on his knees so that he was closer. His face closer to hers. She could smell his cologne infiltrate her senses. She wished she could bathe in his sun-like presence forever.

“I happen to admire that you admire me.” He teased, blinking as more tears fell down his godlike sculpted face.

“You’re still crying, you’re gonna make me emotional.” She laughed as tears were starting to build up in her own ducts. This was really intimate and she was getting mushy.

“Can’t help it. Jus’ soft cuz of you.”

Her hands shifted to grab the collar of his coat, pulling it until his lips were melting into hers He hummed is satisfaction, his hands shifting to cup Y/N’s face to bring her closer. It was a desperate kiss, the kind where emotion tries to convey the feelings not able to form into words.

His lips molded to her, trying to memorize the taste for the rest of his days. His nose was shoved against her cheek as he slipped his tongue in, sliding it against hers greedily, finally doing this after dreaming of it for years. She pulled away for air, his lips chasing hers in a drunken daze.

“Let me breathe for a sec.” she gently pushed him away with her palm pressed against his face. He laughed, leaning back.

“Used to think singing on stage was the best feeling, but that was before I got to kiss those sweet lips. Just one more peck?” He made kissy faces in her direction.

“Thank you.”

His face scrunched up in confusion, “what?”

“Thank you for.. being there. Taking care of me like you do. Making me laugh by being dumb. Especially for buying pizza rolls in bulk. I know you don’t like them as much as you let on. But I do and you do it for me. Means a lot.”

“Anything for you, m’love,” He stood up and led out a hand, “Me and you. Please let that be the rest of my life.”

Y/N decided in that moment that Calum Hood getting a girlfriend was the best thing to ever happen to her.

Part 2?

[skye-huntress]

RWBY V8 Finale “The Final Word” Reactions

Thus concludes the first Volume I get to watch as it airs week by week, and react to it

MAJOR SPOILERS BELOW! SERIOUSLY IF YOU HAVE NOT WATCHED THE EPISODE YET AND FOR WHATEVER REASON STILL SEE THIS EVEN WITH THE SPOILER TAG, CONSIDER THIS YOUR LAST WARNING

Sooo, I cannot not talk about this big one first because it gives me personal feelings. Penny is a character that is very precious to me, always has been. I binged the show up to Volume 7 last year so I didn’t have to go through years of new episodes knowing she was gone and then when she came back and throughout Volume 8, she cemented herself as one of my favourites, right up there with Ruby and Weiss. I even warmed up to Frosen Steel. I honestly did not think nor did I want to think that the show would kill her again, even knowing this was going to be a rough volume for her being the central figure in the whole conflict. The only consolation I have is that she died on her own terms.

While we’re on this note, my sympathies to Jaune for having to be the one to send her on her way. My sympathies to a lot of characters because whether or not Nuts and Dolts is platonic or romantic, she was particularly special to Ruby who once again was not there to save her.

Penny finally got her song, and it hurts

I could tell from the beginning that the Ace Ops were overrated. They seemed cool on the surface and as individual fighters they were probably up there, but I’m also sceptical of the ones that everyone (including themselves) called the “best” at anything. The reality is that they were a mess, they told to bury their feelings, and told to always accept their Jimmy’s judgment over even their own. Clover died a meaningless death because he ignored his own better judgment. That said, for Vine, the least expressive of the whole bunch to not only talk Harriet down but make a sacrifice for his team friends was not something I would have called. And yet I remember how he tried to comfort Elm, and how when Marrow was nearly killed how expressive he was in his shock and fear. Honestly, I should know better, as someone who isn’t able to express the full depth of my emotions very well, I should have known that Vine was probably the one who cared for his friends more than they ever realised.

Qrow was actually lucky for once. I have a theory. If Ren’s semblance can evolve from masking emotions to sensing them, maybe Qrow’s semblance could evolve so that he could change his or others’ fortunes for the better and not just for the worst. At the very least, rubbing the pin made him believe he could in fact be lucky, maybe that’s all he needed.

Harriet has a lot of issues to sort through, but maybe now without the toxicity of the military and Jimmy, she and her remaining friends can allow themselves to feel, grieve, heal and grow.

So we have Robyn, Qrow, Harriet, Elm and Marrow on a transport leaving Solitas through conventional travel. They probably can’t fly their transport straight to Vacuo so they may have to make some stops on the way, probably at Argus or Vale.

As for Ironwood, what a fitting end. He always saw himself as the hero of Remnant, the one with all the answers, the one who was always right, and who would save the day. But in the end, he wasn’t anyone even worth killing. To the villains, he was always a joke, someone to be used, and right when he is finally face to face with his greatest enemy, she never even looked at him once. In the end, neither he nor his precious Atlas proved to be very relevant or impressive.

Neo thought she was clever but she was a fool. That’s what happens when you let anger and vengeance consume you, it warps your judgment. Cinder was always using her, to get what she wanted, and as a means to get her own vengeance on Ruby.

Speaking of not letting not letting vengeance consume you, Blake. She saw how close she was to losing everyone else she cared about she switched tacts. I’m proud of her. And she risked the fall to save Ruby, unfortunately this risk was too great for her.

My WhiteRose heart cheered when Weiss went to back up Ruby. I assume Blake knew the partners could assist each other better than she could. It hurt that she had to watch the rest of her team family fall, to be the last one standing, using Gambol Shroud. And then she fell right in front of her sister.

Ruby really needs more practice with her eyes before she faces Cinder again. It was impressive though how she goaded Neo and knocked her over the edge. Unfortunately, there was more than one person there who really wanted her dead.

As for Ruby’s mental state, she never really had time to process anything that had happened, she was in survival mode the entire time. Falling into the same place as Yang did might give her hope that her sister is still alive and if she fell with Blake, all the better, then she won’t be alone. But like I said, Penny was very important to her, and this is the second time she has lost her. Just imagine though, if Penny’s body falls into the void with them and Ruby finds it, that’d be all the worse than just hearing about it from Weiss or Jaune.

Now, Winter, she is the MVP of this episode. Winter is now the Winter Maiden, not because Ironwood chose her to be or because she actually chose it herself but because Penny chose her. Penny believed in her friend. My love of Penny gives me a lot of conflicting feelings for this and the implications but it was satisfying to see Winter own Ironwood and hold her own against Cinder. And now she is the champion for Atlas’ refugees, but failing Weiss and Penny is going to have a significant impact on her. At least she’ll allow herself to feel and she still has some family left.

Now for the weapons. When Crescent Rose fell, it was like watching an entirely separate character fall as well. Gambol Shroud and Neo’s umbrella fell on their own, too. And Jaune’s weapon that was reforged with Pyrrha’s ruined weapon was destroyed by none other than Cinder. So basically the only ones still completely armed are Weiss and Yang, but of course the latter also has a concussion.

It wasn’t the complete victory she wanted but it was decisive. I figured a victory for Cinder would be getting both relics and she did. But I knew she wouldn’t get the Maiden powers, that’s always the part she fails at again and again. She tries to syphon a Maiden’s magic only to be interrupted. Every. Single. Time. Seriously, Cinder will just never learn from this mistake and its why she will likely never have more than one Maiden’s power at the rate she is going. But as decisive as this victory was, it will cost her in the long run. She needed help from Jinn, Neo and Watts in order to beat Team RWBY but they’ll come back stronger, smarter and more pissed off and Cinder won’t have all of that help next time. If anything, she might have put herself back on top of Neo’s shitlist.

Watts’ end is also rather fitting and also completely expected. Like Jimmy and Jaques, he represented a lot of what was wrong with Atlas, particularly the elite. How annoyed would Ambrosius be with Cinder though? “More fire, that’s it? This is my cosmic karma for being annoyed about being used by the same kids twice in a row.”

Atlas fell as I always knew it would, after all the relics exist to help humanity and a flying city did nothing but fuelled the egos of those who lived on that floating rock. Mantle was something to be proud of, but Atlas was a lie. Now Remnant’s “greatest kingdom in the world” reduced to ruin and it’s people refugees in a land their ancestors made a wasteland. This will have dire consequences.

So in the end, no help came for Atlas. Not surprising in retrospect. Atlesians didn’t have the best reputation to begin with, then Ironwood made a series of terrible decisions (that everyone around him strongly advised against), destroying Atlas’ relations with the other Kingdoms. Then came Ruby’s broadcast out of nowhere where she dropped some insane bombshells and then her message was cut off and global comms went down again. Few can vouch for Ruby’s character and even fewer can verify anything of what she said. I still believe it had an impact and we’ll see it as we visit other Kingdoms again, but the full pay off won’t be for quite some time. As I said before, the message was just the first of many, many small steps to uniting the world against Salem

So now for the detour, and that cursed image of Crescent Rose alone, slammed into the ground. It’s likely Volume 9 will focus mostly on our girls, Jaune and Neo, surviving in this strange environment and finding a way home.

Was that everything? Probably not. Now the mourning period begins as I try to process all of that.

[third-rail-vip]

Complicated

Summary:

It’d be killing two birds with one stone, she’d said. MacCready glared at the crinkled, blackened leaves of the fern sticking out of his duster pocket. His duster, which like the rest of him, was currently chest deep in stinking marsh water, facing a cluster of ferals.

--

Ivy and MacCready's trip to take on the Gunners is stopped in its tracks by a poor judged detour. Mac gets hurt, but he's never been very good at being cared for.

Rating:  Mature

Word Count: 5625  [AO3 link]   [Then I Met You - Series Link]

Mud-clouded, irradiated marsh water burned into his nose, filled his throat, and tried to force its way into his lungs.  

And as if drowning wasn’t bad enough, a close second in the ranking of bad-to-worse was the gouging pain of claw-like nails burying themselves deep into his back, forcing him under water as they tried to tear chunks out of him.  

A dull thought overtook him as the last of the breath left his lungs; he was going to die here.

--x--

The chill of cold water was replaced by a brief but biting gust of wind as a door clicked shut.  MacCready stirred, floorboards shifted as he flexed his back and shoulders, which turned out to be the worst idea he could have possibly had - pain radiated from his left shoulder like fracturing glass.

He hissed through his teeth, taking a sharp breath in and sending a fresh wave across his body, briefly reigniting the burning sensation in his lungs.  Waking up from a nightmare was supposed to be a relief, not just another chapter of discomfort.  

MacCready kept his eyes scrunched closed.  There was light beyond the barrier of his eyelids, low but warm.  If it hadn’t been for the dull headache starting to tap away between his eyes like water torture, it might even have been welcoming.  

“Shhh, shh, shh,” a voice murmured close by.  “You’re okay.”

First things first, when you woke up somewhere strange, it was always best to keep your eyes shut.  There was a lot you could learn when people didn’t know you were awake.  Things that could keep you alive if you weren’t somewhere safe.  

He took a breath in through his nose; the cold December breeze cut through the old damp scent of the room, it carried with it the smell of vegetables (tatos probably) and manure – he grimaced, trying to hide the expression of regret at his deep inhale.  So, it was a farm.  He listened carefully, the lows of brahmin and the quiet chatter of voices confirmed enough for him – the only danger he faced here was boredom.  

As his apprehension dwindled further, he realised it was Ivy’s voice offering the soft reassurances – of course it was – and he could only assume it was her who’d just gently brushed his hair back from his sweat-damp forehead.  The tender motion would be enough to lull him back to sleep if he let it, but he wasn’t ready to be drowning in his mind again, or to watch Lucy pulled to pieces, or to be yelling for his missing partner.  No, it was time to wake up.  

His vision was blurry when he eventually peeked his eyes open, the dull glow of an oil lantern was the only thing beating back the shadows of early evening.  It’s illumination barely reached the wooden slatted ceiling he found himself staring up at.  

He was laid on a mouldy old sleeping bag in a small room with broken windows, but that didn’t exactly narrow down locations when it came to the Commonwealth.  Glancing out the window, the faint remnants of orange warming the darkness on the horizon told him the sun hadn’t long set.  

Sat next to him, lantern light shafting through her hair and casting her face in shadow, was his partner.  He smiled to himself at the halo effect doing its best to make her look like an angel – if angels sat there drinking Nuka-Cherry with a cute little crinkle on their nose from their patented ‘worry frown’.  

Quick check for his other essentials; his sniper rifle was propped up in the corner by the lamp, which sat on the same small table as his hat.  He reached up and patted his top pocket and felt the reassuring bulk of the toy soldier.  Everything was where it should be.  

“So, did I die or is this just my guardian angel coming to pay me a visit?” he croaked, with a throat drier than wasteland dirt.  

“Hey you.”  Ivy swiped the heel of her palm across her eye, before pushing a smile onto her lips and turning to look at him.  “You had me worried there.”

Crap.  He really did.  That light tone didn’t hold any weight with him, he could hear the waver in her voice, see the tension in her smile.  She’d hired him to make sure this kind of thing didn’t happen, but all it took was ferals and he was failing people all over again.  

Now the light shone on her properly, the scratches on her face (earned in a fight he was nowhere near to help her with) put his heart into a vice-like grip.  

They didn’t look as bad as before, there wasn’t blood all over her face anymore, for one thing.  In fact, her hair was damp but back to it’s usual creamy white – no more essence of marsh water – and her rolled down vault suit showed she’d swapped into a clean tank top.  

Come to think of it, when they’d arrived at Oberland Station it had only just been getting dark.  Yes, he remembered where they were now - a cluster of shacks and a signal box huddled by the railroad tracks and surrounded by tato plants.  He also remembered the welcoming committee, armed with pipe pistols and a whole heap of mistrust.  

The pair of them had been caught off guard on the tracks, Ivy still in his arms – the vice tightened another twist.  They were soaked, bleeding and, unless the settlers expected him to hurl his injured partner at them, they were unarmed.

He’d been about to give them the biggest f-ing piece of his mind, when the world that had started to spin around him, decided to turn out the lights.  

“How long—”

“You’ve been out for a couple of hours.”  Ivy hugged her knees to her chest and nodded to the IV he hadn’t even noticed in his arm.  “You’re on your second bag.”

A bag of Radaway was hung up using the bedstead as a makeshift drip-stand.  It had almost run through.  On the ground nearby was another spent bag and an empty blood pack.  

Shit.  Well that would explain the headache, the dizziness and the nausea, not the mention the fever.  There were only two things in the wasteland that’d do that to you;  a whole heck of a lot of rads, or a couple of sips of Vadim’s moonshine.  

“They let us stay, huh?”  He hoped his smile could pass for something warmer than a grimace.  “I wouldn’t have guessed from that reception.”

Ivy sighed and raised an eyebrow at his salty remark.

“Well, you passing out and dropping me like a sack of potatoes… tatos?  Is there an equivalent?”  She frowned for a second, adjusting the grip on her knees and shifting her weight to the other hip.  “Anyway, I think it helped our case.”

Mac smiled.  He liked her tangents, when her old world and his new one got jumbled up in her head and knocked her train of thought off the tracks.  Her mental meanders had tested his patience back when they first met, but now he found it soothing to watch her puzzle things out.

Ivy leant forward and pressed the back of her hand against his forehead.  Her fingers were cool – a welcome relief he hadn’t realised he needed until they soothed some of the heat in his skin.    

“Your temperature’s coming back down, at least.”  The last of the Radaway had run its course, so she slipped the drip from his arm.  “How are you feeling?”

MacCready sat up – big mistake.  The room spun violently around him, dragging a sickening groan from his lips.  If Ivy hadn’t been there to grab his arms and steady him, he’d have slumped back down onto the sleeping bag.  

Fat lot of good he was doing anyone in this state!  Those goddamn ferals.  He wanted to scream.  Or shoot something.  Or have a cigarette.  Where were his damn cigarettes?  

But he needed to keep his shit together.

“I feel like a herd of brahmin stomped on my head,” he griped, hoping he could at least manage to make her laugh.  “What do you think, doc?  Am I going to make it?”

She wasn’t even looking at him - wide-eyed, she was staring at his shoulder.  Ever so slowly, she reached out and peeled the sleeping bag away from where blood had soaked it to his shoulder.  He couldn’t hold in the pained cry when she did it.  

--x--

It’d be killing two birds with one stone, she’d said.  MacCready glared at the crinkled, blackened leaves of the fern sticking out of his duster pocket.  His duster, which like the rest of him, was currently chest deep in stinking marsh water, facing a cluster of ferals.

He lined up another shot, taking two down with one bullet – a very nicely placed double headshot.  Ordinarily he’d be singing his own praises, but this whole mess had the potential to go bad real fast.  One tackle from a feral and he’d lost the upper ground, got separated from his partner and cut off from any hope of an easy retreat.  

Once-upon-a-time, taking out ferals had been child’s play.  Literally.  He’d been at it since he was 10.  He’d perfected the art of anticipating their shambling, diving movements.  Could line up a shot with barely a glance, the same way he took down raiders and greenskins these days – it came as naturally to him as a heartbeat.  

It was no boast when he claimed to be the ‘best shot in the Commonwealth’.  If you asked MacCready, he was a modern-day Robin-fucking-Hood – except the beggared of the commonwealth could keep their mitts off his caps.

That had all changed four years ago, at least with the ferals it had.  Now he had to focus – there was no winging this shit.  He had to tell his hands to stop shaking, to count his breaths so he even remembered to take them.  Every time those things showed up he had to ride the line between fear and rage - which might have been useful if he was wielding a baseball bat, but it was no damn good for a sniper.  

His finger was slick on the trigger, and as much as he wished he could just blame it on the water, his palms were sweating.  He bungled his second shot, it only winged the racing creature.  

This was goddamn nightmare fuel.

The third shot came from the walkway above him.

“I could have got it,” he snapped, more harshly than he meant to, but this shit had got him on edge.  

“I know.”  Ivy didn’t even bicker back at him.  

She was scared.  And alone.

But he’d thank anything that’d listen that she had a good eye - he admired the clean shot between the eyes of the feral before it sank beneath the water - and that her aim was getting better every day.  The trouble would come if she got overwhelmed and he couldn’t get to her.

Hell of a lot of good he was doing down here.  

The pair had taken on ferals before, but not in this number and he’d not left her side the whole time.  This was different.  There were so many - more rising up out of the water or scuttling across the rooftops at every turn.  They were closer to the Glowing Sea here, but this was ridiculous.  It was like someone had set up a feral summer camp and the damn things had waited for them to get right into the centre of town before attacking.

With barely a thought, he took down another feral as it rounded the corner ahead.  It was easier if he just went on instinct, less time for thoughts of consequences - and the memories of old ones - to creep in.  

MacCready patted his top pocket.  Good, it was still there.  

“I hate getting wet,” he moaned.

“I know.”  Came the reply (after a few more gunshots), this time from a few roofs down, further back into the heart of the sunken village.

MacCready made to move forward in an attempt to keep pace with her, his feet dragging through deep silt.  He’d barely made it a few yards before something heavy fell with a loud splash right behind him.  He definitely didn’t have time to turn around before it was on him – teeth, nails, sheer weight dragging him down under the water.  

--x--

“I’m so sorry.”  Ivy’s voice was so small, her eyes were swimming when she looked at him.  “I really fucked up.”

MacCready frowned, confused.  It wasn’t her fault he’d bled all over the damn sleeping bag.  The settlers would just have to get over it.

“I took us to that awful place and you got hurt,” her voice was growing more and more frantic until it finally cracked and tears spilled down her face.  “When they dragged you under—”

Oh, Ives.  Did she really think this was all her fault?

He leaned forward and caught the back of her neck, gently tugging her forwards until their foreheads touched.  A startled gasp mingled with a sob when he did, her red-rimmed brown eyes looking straight into his brilliant blue gaze.  

“Don’t you dare blame yourself for this,” he murmured.  “Yeah, sh—stuff went wrong, but we made a heck of a team out there.”  

“Mac, I thought I got you killed…”

This close together, with their gazes locked, even in that dark little room, he could see the scratch the knife had made down her eye.  She must have come damn close to losing it.  What kind of animal could do that to a sweetheart like her.  He felt his temper bubbling up, but given it was 200 years too damn late, it was about as redundant as he’d been today.  

“I’m a Capital Wasteland radroach,” he smiled, bumping the tip of his nose against hers.  “It’ll take more than a few ferals to kill me.”

The words tasted like bile in the back of his throat, knowing they might well be true, but the same didn’t extend to the people he loved.  But then, they weren’t for his benefit, and the intended recipient had almost laughed, which was definitely something.

“I am sorry tho—”

“Ah, ah.  You saved my ass, angel.  I’d be feral food if it wasn’t for you.”  

It was true.  It had been terrifyingly close.  

Ivy bumped her nose against his before pulling away, shifting back into her spot against the wall, leaving him with an odd sensation in the pit of his stomach.  Her tears had dried up, and she wiped away the remaining trickles from her cheeks with the heel of her palm.  

MacCready dug in his pants’ pocket for his cigarettes, pulling one out only to watch it flop and snap.  He hated water.  

His partner giggled when he looked across at her, a pathetic sight with his packet of ruined cigarettes.  Then she laughed, really laughed.  The tension from moments before finding its way out in nervous energy.

Ivy laughing - really laughing - was a joy.  

First, she’d fight to hold it in, but you’d see it building in her eyes.  Then the corners of her mouth would twitch, her lips desperately wanting to break open into a grin, so she’d catch it behind a hand - both if it was especially bad - like, if he couldn’t see the smile, he hadn’t won the game of making her laugh.  Tears like diamonds flecked with mascara would form in the corners of her eyes and trickle down her cheeks.

He'd happily sit there with half a cigarette hanging off his bottom lip if he got to watch that sight.

Once her giggles had faded, she filled a cup with purified water for him.  It’d be more soothing for his throat than a cigarette anyway, just not for his nerves.  Regardless, he downed the water in one and held his cup back out for a refill, big blue eyes pleading the same way dogmeat did anytime they were cooking something tasty.  Ivy obliged.

“How about I take a look at that shoulder now?”

Whether he’d like her to or not, she was already digging in her pack for antiseptic and filling a small basin with more purified water.    

--x--

Removing MacCready’s coat and shirt turned out to be more of a challenge than they’d anticipated.  The fabric of both were either caught in the wound or dried to his skin, and the attempted removal of them left him chewing on the back of his hand.

The pair of them sat hip-to-hip, the small of Ivy’s back resting against his knee as she focussed on her work.  Outside he could Diamond City Radio playing quietly from somewhere in the settlement.  It showed how hard his partner was concentrating that she wasn’t even humming along.  He let the strains of Billie Holliday wash over him and tried to think about anything other than the pain in his shoulder.

“Mac?”

Ivy cast a quick glance MacCready’s way between strokes of the damp cloth she was using to stop the dried blood clinging to the fabric.  

“Hmm?” He tried to sound casual, like he hadn’t just been counting the freckles on the bridge of her nose.  23.

“What does RJ stand for?”  She treated him to the little hopeful smile she usually reserved for shopkeepers and potential employers.  

“Where did that come from?”

“I just wondered.”  And you thought it’d distract me from thinking about my shoulder trying to pull itself apart.  “I can’t believe I’ve never gotten around to asking before.”

“Oh, you have.”  

He grinned at the confusion dawning into a half-memory on her face.  He’d been just sober enough to remember the second agreement they made on Halloween night, when they first met in Goodneighbor – one shot per question.  

It’s no wonder she couldn’t remember though.  Most of his memories, other than a few of her more outlandish questions, revolved around those big, bright, buzzed eyes.  

They’d been sprawled on opposite sofas in The Third Rail, half a bottle of whiskey – which she obviously couldn’t handle – down and she’d just asked him (as one of the 20 questions he’d limited her to) what the meaning of life was.  He’d told her to shut up and drink.  Then she’d tried for his name with so much mischief in those eyes and a smirk on her lips that he’d never quite been able to take his eyes off since.

“And I’ll tell you now, what I told you then.  No way.  I’m not telling you.  You’ll only use it to tell me off.”

He hissed indignantly at the cold hand she purposefully rested on his chest when she paused to give him an appraising look.  

“That’s fair,” she eventually conceded - most likely when her hand had reached the temperature a human body should be - setting back to work, only to pause again a second later.

“Of course...” she smirked at the new idea that had presented itself to her, leaning across conspiratorially to whisper in his ear. “You might have to make a choice between that, and me making up names for you.”

“I’ll take my chances,” he replied without hesitation.

“That’s your prerogative, Rodney.”

He glared at her.

--x--

It took a couple more minutes to work the material free of the wound – and a couple more minutes of enduring every name beginning with ‘R’ that Ivy could think of – but now the damage was plain to see.  

Or at least he could guess it was from the sudden lack of teasing and the expression of horror on Ivy’s face. The colour that he’d tried so hard to get back into those cheeks had drained again, and the guilt he could see in her eyes, when she flicked them to his face then back to his shoulder, was like a mirror to his own.  

If the deep red stains that had soaked into his once white tank and across his shoulder were anything to go by, those ferals had made a goddamn mess of him.  

“I—this might take a little while.  I’m going to need to clear out the…debris…and clean the scratches before I can even think about getting a Stimpak in there.”  She chewed on her bottom lip.  “These deeper ones… RJ, they’re going to hurt.”

“I’m a big boy, angel.  I can take it.”  

Debris.  He knew exactly what that meant.  And damn right it was going to hurt.  This wasn’t the first time he’d had to dig broken off feral nails and teeth from his flesh.  At least this time he wasn’t trying to comfort a bawling infant as he did it.  

When she dragged the lamp closer, MacCready knew exactly what else she’d see.  The back of his shoulder and upper arm were littered with old scars.  How long would it take her to spot the similarities between the old marks and the ones she was cleaning?  He wondered whether she’d guess that’s what wrecked his duster in the first place.

He braced himself, waiting for the inevitable pain, trying to ignore the glint of lamplight on the already red-tinted basin of water next to him.  Picking a patch of peeling paint on the skirting board, he stared at it, trying to make himself focus on what colour it might have been two centuries ago.  Would it have been something fun?  Midnight blue, maybe?  Not likely.

A shiver ran up his spine as Ivy smoothed a hand over his shoulder-blade, her thumb tracing the lines of the old wounds with a touch as delicate as a kiss.  She didn’t ask.  She didn’t need to.  One glance between them and she could recognise scars with a history.  If anyone understood the vulnerability that came with them, it was her.  

MacCready had never been much of one for looking after himself when he was hurt.  He was more of a ‘rip the bandaid off’ kind of guy.  Stick a stimpak in it and hope for the best.

Oh, but Ivy, she was as gentle as she could be with him, soft hands working to soothe, stopping with every groan and halted curse – if she could – whispering apologies and reassurances that she wouldn’t take much longer.  

The water beside him grew deeper red with every time she had to wash the blood from her fingertips.  He thought he’d bite clean through his lip when she dug out the last of the debris, it was buried deep and he could hear from trying to keep from retching as she pulled it from deep in the muscle.  

The smell of the antiseptic burned his nostrils.  He was such a mess, he barely even felt the sting of the carefully applied stimpak getting to work on knitting his muscle back together.  Woozily he pressed his fingers to his bleeding lip, rocking forward to put his head between his raised knees until the room stopped spinning.    

“Hey, that was the last one,” Ivy gently rubbed her hand up his spine and across his uninjured shoulder, quietly reassuring him.  “Just got to get you bandaged up and you’ll be good as new.”

“And what about you?” he asked as she began to bandage his shoulder, glancing pointedly at her swollen ankle which was covered in an ever-increasing nebula of purple and black bruises.

“It’s just a sprain, Mac” she shrugged.  “It’ll go down in time.  Let me worry about you.”

--x--

He heard the gunshots, that wasn’t what frightened him.  It was the scream that came after.  The last he’d seen of Ivy she’d been standing up on a pitched roof – stupidly out in the open, but if she hadn’t thrown caution to the wind to get that vantage point, he’d be a dead man.    

Now she was gone.  

There were feral corpses bobbing in the water all around him, even more hanging off the roofs and walkways.  He hadn’t realised how many were on him until he pulled himself back up, fighting for air.  

In seconds his vicious memories were replaced by a new fear.  

Bleeding and dizzy, he began wading through the deserted streets.  He couldn’t see any more movement, not around him and not on the rooftops.  And he couldn’t see her.  The village was as silent as when they arrived.  

“Hey partner, you okay?” he hazarded a shout.  

No answer, just the echo of his voice bouncing back off deserted buildings.  

MacCready started to move faster towards where he’d last seen her, forcing his body through the deep water, causing eddies and ripples to trail out behind him.  He tried to keep calm but his breaths were getting shaky.  

“Hey angel, you good?”  he shouted louder this time.  

Nothing.  

“Ivy?”  

It was more of a croak than a shout.  There was no way anyone could hear it.  He could barely hear it.  But that didn’t stop the nausea rising in the pit of his stomach, or his pulse starting to pound in his ears.  

No, no, no, no, no… not this time.

“Ives!” he yelled at the top of his lungs.  Over and over again, he shouted, his voice mixing with the echoes as he dragged himself up the rusted fire escape onto the rooftop.

“Mac?”  He almost missed it.  Her voice was stifled by coughing, but it was her.  

Scrambling up onto the pitched roof he’d last seen her on, he spotted a hole edged with rotten beams and snapped tiles.  Peering over the edge into the gloom of a dusty attic space, he could see Ivy.  She lay crumpled half on/half under a pile of broken beams with blood smeared across her face.  Her ankle was caught at a weird angle.  The body of a feral lay impaled where it landed just feet away.  

He wasn’t sure he’d ever been so relieved to see a person in his life.  The way she was smiling at him, she looked pretty damn glad to see him too.  

“Did we win?”

Shaky laughter spilled from his lips, “Something like that, angel.”

“You called me Ives.”

She gave him the soft look of a woman who’d probably hit her head on the way down.

--x--

But Mac was the one doing the worrying.  

It had been a long time since he’d been that worried about losing a partner.  What rattled him the most was that when she’d disappeared out of his sight, his panic had nothing to do with suddenly being alone in a feral-infested swamp.  He didn’t even spare a thought for the Gunner base less than a half a mile away.  He’d been too wrapped up in the fear of losing her.

Ivy was giving him that soft look again now, even without the concussion.  Would it be so much to hope that she actually gave a damn about him?  He’d made mistakes in the past, given his trust to people who didn’t deserve, and he’d been burned.  

But maybe she was different, just like he’d told her when he convinced her to help him with this dumbass plan.  

“You really don’t have to do all this for me, angel, but thank you.”  

Without thinking he reached out, brushed that one stubborn curl back behind her ear and cupped her cheek.  It took his thumb brushing her scar for him to realise that he was the biggest dumbass in the commonwealth.  Of all the things he could have done…

He was on the verge of panicking and pulling his hand away, when she pressed her hand over the top of and smiled at him.  He couldn’t have imagined such a different reaction to when she’d been falling apart in front of him in Malden.  

“You should let somebody else take care of you every once in a while.”  

If he thought she’d been looking at him softly before, well this look coaxed all the air from his lungs, and if he remembered to breathe at any point in the future, he’d struggle.  

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.  Usually MacCready was the one who knew how to tease blushes and smiles out of her.  To catch her eye and leave her speechless.  How did one simple gesture have his stomach in knots?  

Holy crap, he did not see this coming.

There was a creak on the wooden stairs outside their room and he wasn’t sure he’d ever resented a noise so much in his life.  Their little bubble had been burst and now he could hear the chatter of settlers outside again, and the damn brahmin still hadn’t shut up – even though he’d been deaf to them just moments before.  He could hear one of those damn crows squawking away in the woods nearby.  Dinner was cooking, and people were laughing, and didn’t they have anything better to do than interrupt them.

Ivy gave his hand a quick squeeze and took it away from her face just as the door creaked open and one of the settlers arrived with a basin of scalding hot water - now he thought about it, after the day they just had, he probably smelled like antiseptic and stagnant marsh water.  Nice.

“I’ll leave you to get washed up.”  There was a flush to Ivy’s cheeks that couldn’t just be put down to warm lighting.  He just smiled at her like an idiot.  

“You need a hand down the stairs?”  their host enquired, giving them both the kind of look that gossip was built on.  

MacCready glared at the woman.  Ivy might be quick to forgive, but he remembered that pipe pistol, and if he started getting shit from caravan guards, he’d know exactly where it had come from.    

“No, thank you, Lynn.  I can manage.”   The woman bustled back out into the night air, but MacCready could hear her taking her time going down the stairs.  Nosy...

Before he could help her, Ivy had dragged herself to her feet, using the doorframe to keep as much weight off her ankle as possible.

“I’ll be outside.”

“What, no bed bath?”  MacCready forced a laugh.  This was the crap they usually joked about, right?  He was sure it wouldn’t have sounded so awkward that morning.  

Ivy shook her head in exasperation, or at least that was probably what she was going for, but the grin and the blush undermined the impression.  

“I was an artist, sweetheart, not a nurse,” she teased.  “So, unless you’re planning on posing for a life drawing, I’m going to go and help with supper.”

A sudden panic hit him as the room emptied.  What if something happened?  What if something happened while she was out there and he couldn’t get to her in time.

The door had barely clicked shut before he called after her, “Angel?”

“Yeah?” she poked her head back in, curious smile in place.   The wave of relief he felt after just a second, well, it was ridiculous.

“Stay close.  Yeah?”

--x--

The previous night had ended up much like that morning had begun - with bickering and a meal.  A big bowl of vegetable stew and a quarrel about how to get back to Diamond City, to be more precise.  Not that they’d gone to sleep on bad terms, if intertwined fingers and shy smiles in the darkness were anything to go by.

MacCready watched the weather suspiciously, the morning was dull and windy, and knowing his luck, they’d probably end up hiking in the rain.  He stood on the tracks with Ivy, all packed up and ready to go, but they were still undecided on the route they should take.  Her ankle was no better than the day before, despite her hobbling on it and trying to convince him that she’d be able to make it the long way on foot.

“I’m telling you, if we go via Cambridge it’s actual roads and I’ll be able to walk.  I might just need a little support,” she challenged him.  Again.

“And I’m telling you, you’re in no fit state to try and get past raiders and muties if they’ve infested that apartment block again,” he snapped back, frustrated.  “If we take the shorter route we can be back in under two hours.”

“And if there are yao guai, Mac?  What then?  I’m definitely going to get eaten, is what.”  She folded her arms across her chest, the very picture of defiance – if it wasn’t for her standing on one leg like a lawn flamingo.  “Where’s the salt?  Because you might as well season me now.”

“Stop being so damn dramatic.”  He rolled his eyes at her indignant look.  “I’d get us there in less time if you’d just let me carry you.”

“And what about your shoulder?”

He chose to ignore that one.  The shoulder in question still ached like a son-of-a…gun.

“I’ll tell you what RJ stands for.”  Looking at her like he’d just upped the ante on a bet she could never refuse.  “But only if we can go the shorter way.”

…got her.

“Really?”

He shook his head and stalked over, picking her up in one fluid movement and–hopefully–managed to hide the sharp pain in his shoulder.  She quickly wrapped an arm around his neck to steady herself and swallowed hard – he couldn’t miss it – composing herself after being caught off guard.  

“Robert.  Joseph.”

She smiled, glancing away at nothing in particular, like she was trying out the feel of his name in her mind.  Then she smiled at him, and it was his turn to steady himself.  There was none of the teasing he’d anticipated, just that gentle warmth that always caught him off guard.  

“Ok, you win.  We can go your way.”

Oh, this was going to get complicated.

[practicingmedicine]

Practicing Medicine: Chapter Seven

(+)7

2075 ROBCO(R)

LOADER V1. 1

EXEC VERSION 41.10

32K RAM SYSTEM

14302 BYTES FREE

HOLLOWTAPE LOADED: "THE-WORST-THING-EVER"

INITIALISING….

SUCCESS!

STATUS

Battery Level: 42%

Wireless Signal: (?)

Operating Temperature: 92F

HEALTH

BP: 170/130

SPO2: 100%

Temp: 99.5F RR: 28

HR: 185

TIME

Day: 24 SEP. 2279

Time: 16:10

CLIMATE

Current Temperature: 76 F

Atmospheric Pressure: 750 mm

Background Radiation: 1.321 RAD

WARNING: Dangerous wasteland creature in range!

Yeah, no shit, Sherlock! Why don't you tell me my chance of survival as a percentage too!

I'd been tipping back in my chair when the wall exploded, so now I was sitting on my ass in a state of total mental shock, slowly butt-scooting my way backwards. The NCR soldier who I'd been sitting beside popped up, knocking his stool over in the process.

"Ayuda!" he shouted. He was shooting his rifle, but it wasn't making any noise. He screamed something about shit ammo and started yanking on the charging bolt.

Amongst the wreckage, Tandi tried to stand back up. How she survived an impact like that was beyond me, but I wasn't about to point that out. She turned her head to look at Gram.

"Gram, get the-" she started. Before she could finish, the big white reptile threw itself directly at her, knocking over the entire table and crushing Cook and Jas as Tandi rolled out of the way, trailing pink insulation foam behind her. Gram sprinted past me and started clambering up the stairs to the second floor, leaving poor Chomps sitting in stunned silence.

The deathclaw reared around to face Tandi, who had drawn a six-gun from her hip.

"Fuck off, cyka!" shouted Tandi, and emptied it directly into his face, shattering his jaw and blasting off his nose.

The gunshots, the shrieks of the injured beast, the dust that was gathering in the air... it was all so overwhelming! I'd never been so close to anything so dangerous, and my whole body was screaming at me to run for my life, but I just couldn't send the signals to my muscles. I couldn't move, couldn't shout, couldn't breath...

The beast lunged at Tandi again, and she caught him by his arm and snapped it against her leg, then grabbed onto his broken jaw and forced it into the back of his throat. He immediately swung his other hand at her, impaling her through her forearm and thigh. He probably would have disemboweled her in the next motion, but was interrupted by a sudden hail of gunfire.

My eardrums pounded as the soldier fired shot after shot from his now-functional rifle, striking the deathclaw all across it's back and arms, poking lots of inconsequential little holes in the thing. By the end of the magazine, I couldn't hear anything but a loud ringing, so I didn't even get to hear the soldier's scream as the Deathclaw reeled around and folded him against the wall, taking all the life out of his body and sending him tumbling to the ground in a way that made it clear that he'd not be getting back up. The beast stalked over to him...

And in Came chomps like a goddamn pro wrestler, swinging a stool over his head like a sledgehammer. The beast didn't even bother to turn around as it raked Chomps across his entire upper body with its good claw. I could see the blood running down his face as Chomps stumbled backwards into the fallen table and fell onto his back, trying to figure out which of his massive wounds to clutch as he writhed about with his legs in the air.

Then, the thing turned it's whole upper body to face me. Our eyes connected.

Have you ever been so scared that you choked on your own spit? Because, as the beast stared at me with its one remaining eye, I distinctly remember gagging so hard that I started choking on my own spit.

It started walking towards me- a big, ghost-white beast, stained all over with its own blood, all its parts hanging loose- and I involuntarily let out a mix between a wet cough and a squeal. More logic-defying noises escaped my mouth as I scrambled for the stairs, trying and failing to stand up in the process. But it wasn't me who the deathclaw was keying in on now- It was Gram, standing behind me on the stairwell with a laser gun.

"Cover your ears, Boy!" He shouted over the ringing, and I followed his advice. I pressed my hands against my ears and shut my eyes.

Next thing I felt was heat on my skin- wasn't no light, but there was heat alright! Heat and a noise like a can of sarsaparilla taking a fifty cal right in the center! Drops of hot liquid splashed across my skin.

Next thing that hit were the smells. Burning fat, a delicious dinner and clouds of gunpowder, pools of coagulating blood and bodily fluids; The sounds- screaming, shouting, sobbing, and there was that damn ringing in my ears! My head hurt too, and my skin was all hot and prickly. I swear I could feel my chest caving in, I was breathing so hard…

"Isaac! Isaac, get moving, people are dying! ISAAC!"

Someone hit me in the back of the head, so I turned around and bit them as hard as I could. I could taste blood so vividly, as they pulled their hand back, putting them off balance. I grabbed the wrinkled, bleeding hand and yanked it forward, pulling its owner down the stairs and onto the floor. Someone walked up to me and tried to say something to me so I started screaming as loud and hard as I could, until they backed away.

Then it struck me- the deathclaw was dead. It's head had been hollowed out, pieces scattered all over the room. No one was even paying attention to me as I beat the ever living shit out of Gram, who had probably just saved my life. They all had their own problems.

I was hyperventilating, I realized, and it was making my vision go dark around the edges. I tried to regulate my breathing as I scanned the room, wondering what the hell I was supposed to do first. But it was hard- so, so hard with all the ringing, and the prickly hot feeling on my skin and the static in my head!

Where to start? I started compiling a mental list of all the problems that I had to fix, or "doing triage," as my father would have said. In my head, it looked something like this:

I'd hurt Gram after he hit me in the back of the head, but he was already getting back up.

Cook was lying underneath a table, wheezing and trying to get it off her chest- she was probably having trouble breathing, but Jas was helping her at the moment, and she was making noise so it couldn't be that bad.

The NCR soldier was in a bad way, probably got his back broke. I couldn't tell if the blood all over his back was his or the deathclaws, which warranted a closer look, but there was still air going through his body so I'd put him on the back burner for now.

That left Tandi and Chomps, the two with the nastiest wounds. If the claw had hit his throat, Chomps would be dead very soon, if he wasn't dead already. I decided to deal with him first. Ignoring Gram's muttered insults, I stalked across the room and fell down on one knee beside the old man. There was a frightening amount of blood pooling around his head, and my heart rate picked up when I dragged him on his side and gave him a quick once over.

Three parallel gashes- One deep wound across his stomach, one relatively shallow one across his upper chest and collarbone, and one across his forehead that was bleeding profusely but which had stopped at the skull. I saw no signs of life-threatening bleeding, though his intestines were poking out through the stomach wound. I motioned towards Gram.

"Gemme a wet towel." In spite of what I'd done to him, he didn't argue with me, disappearing into the kitchen without a word. I looked back at Chomps. I'd been an idiot and left my medical kit in the cart, so my emergency treatment was going to have to be improvised. I didn't like that, but I wasn't about to leave any of the people in the room to go get the kit. I'd have to make do for the moment.

First step would be to remove the clothes around the evisceration. How was I going to do that? I couldn't just pull off his overalls. I'd have to cut through them. What options did I have for cutting? My utility knife was in my medical pouch. But, when they'd set the table, there had been steak knives…

Find a steak knife, I told myself, and started scanning the floor. I could faintly hear the back door open as Gram headed outside to pump water on a towel, which I'd use to dress the evisceration. Steak knife, steak knife…

Amidst the debris, I found a fork and steak knife lying together, so I took both just in case I ended up needing the fork for something. After putting a quick gash in the pale, unfeeling strip of skin on my forearm to get a feel for the knife's cutting edge, I leaned back over Chomps and slid the knife against his blood-soaked denim. It took a bit of force, but once I had cut through the tough edge, it became a lot easier to run my knife through the worn material. I cut out a rough square of cloth all around his chest, and carefully peeled it off his sticky, bloody skin. Poor man was conscious, I noticed, but he wasn't saying nothing. Just watching.

"Don't try and move. Your guts weren't ripped, but they might be if you start squirming. No matter how much it hurts, you gotta stand still," I said, tearing off the loose strip of overalls and bunching it up into a makeshift rag for later. It wasn't sanitary, but it'd have to do. 

Gram came back in shortly after, carrying several ragged towels soaked in water. I gave him a nod of acknowledgment and held my arms out for Gram to drop the towels into. Not stopping to check his trajectory, Gram tossed the load in my arms, and continued walking until he reached Tandi. He knelt down beside her.

"Toss me the pip boy!" He shouted. I was confused for a second, then remembered the medical profiles I'd created. Quick as I could, I logged off the pip-boy, and tossed it underhanded to Gram. I didn't wait to see if he caught it.

"Remember: Don't move," I said, laying the wet towel across Chomps's jutting intestines. He winced as the towel touched the wound, but he didn't squirm. Don't think there was much that could've made Chomps squirm. 

"You're doing great!" I told him, securing the towel around the edges. I checked the rest of his wounds. His airway was swell, and the leaks in his forehead and chest weren't gonna kill him. Which means he was as stable as he was going to get, without a stimpack. "I'll come back to you soon. I need to check the soldier…"

"No, Fuck that guy! Tandi's been thrown through a goddamn wall!" shouted Gram, but it sounded quiet next to the ringing in my ears. I rubbed my temples. Jas had gotten the table off of Cook, and was doing what I guessed to be a misguided attempt at CPR on her, for some reason. Probably because she was complaining about breathing? First things first, I needed to put a stop to that 

"Jas, does Cook have a pulse?" I asked, barely able to hear my own voice. Jas nodded. 

"Yeah, but she says that she can't breathe, so I'm doing-"

"Stop doing that! CPR is for dead people!" Jas didn't complain no more, instead standing up and going to examine the NCR soldier. If Gram was telling the truth, I didn't have time to worry about how Jas was going to screw him up, so I ignored her and hurried over to Tandi. Surprisingly, she was still conscious. She gave me a weak middle finger as I sat down.

"Helmet off- stop moving it if she complains about her neck," I said. Gram complied immediately. Tandi didn't have anything to say as the helmet came off, revealing her sweaty, mutilated face. There were no new injuries there, though it was still as shocking as ever.

"Where's it hurt, Tandi? Is your back okay?" I asked. She looked up at me like I was stupid.

"No, I'm completely paralyzed. Dumb whore..." I rolled my eyes.

"Surely, I am as dumb as they come! But, the pip-boy says you've got internal bleeding, and it's still figuring out where. Where're you hurtin' at?" Tandi laughed a little.

"Internal? Then it's in the right place." I shook my head and inspected her pip-boy image. There were so many warnings that it was impossible to try to interpret them all. I suddenly really wished I could read, even just a little more.

"Tandi, this is life or death! Where did it-" Suddenly, the image on the screen changed. The pip boy beeped, and a blinking warning sign appeared dead in the center of her character's chest. The BP stat, I noticed, was down from the last measurement.

"Y'have no idea how often people say that. Anyways, he hit me-" she started. I began to pull off her coat. I elbowed Gram in the shoulder, and pointed at the stricken woman.

"Strip her down. Tandi, please help as much as you can!" She gave me a suspicious look.

"And what if I don't want you exploring all up in my nooks-and-crannies?"

"Tandi, something is very fucking wrong! Help me take the armor off!" She clutched her wounded leg and growled at me.

"...Aggghhh, Fine! But I'll kill you afterwards."

Gram worked on taking off the armor supporting her back, while I removed her dented chest-plate. Once I'd gotten that free, I took off her shirt, Gram removed her baggy jeans, and we got to work freeing her armor harnesses. When one of the clips got stuck, I picked up my steaknife from the ground and sliced through the whole strap. It was surprisingly easy to cut through, I guess for emergency situations like this. Once I got that off, Tandi was left in her sportswear. I removed her chest wrapping on account of some bruising in that area. Her knickers weren't covering nothing up, so I left those alone.

The full picture was distressing, real distressing. Amongst Tandi's considerable collection of old scars, there were several huge, rapidly swelling patches of yellow, purplish skin all over her body, the biggest of which was right over her heart. I pulled my stethoscope off my neck and plugged it into my ears- had em backwards, got them in the right way and then checked around for her heartbeat, and got back a faint, muffled noise. Combined with her wormlike neck veins and the fact that I couldn't even get a pulse on her femoral at this point, that made Beck's Triad. Father always told me I'd never be able to diagnose tamponade like that on a real clinical exam, but here were all three symptoms, sticking out like a compound fracture.

"Oh no," I breathed. I tried to compose myself, but panic was already overtaking my mind. Before I even spoke, I could hear my voice cracking. "Jas! Get- uh, break into the wagon out back, and grab the orange bag and the other one, the other emergency-looking one. Bring em back fast!" Jas looked at her fallen companion, who she had sat up against the wall, then at the door, then at me. Slowly, she stood up, walked away from the unconscious soldier, and exited out the back door, picking up speed as she went.

Preparing myself for what came next, I placed the cold knife against Tandi's bare, swollen chest, and started counting ribs. One, two, three, four, five... The tip came to a rest beneath her right breast.

"What are you doing?" She asked. I pressed the knife a bit harder, seeing how hard I'd need to press to cut her sweaty skin. Not very. A drop of blood seeped out from under the knife.

"There's blood gathering in the lining around your heart, Tandi. I gotta open your chest up to fix you." Tandi's eyes opened wide.

 "What- NO!"

I felt her grab onto my wrist, but she was late; I'd already abandoned any doubts that might've been left in my head and punched my knife through her chest, right by her sternum. A primal scream filled my ears as I dragged the blade through the layers of skin and fat, all the way to her shoulder blade. I shoved my hand into her intercostal space.

"Spread her ribs and hold 'em," I grunted. Gram made a face.

"Oh, Christ..." Tandi continued to shriek in pain and squeeze my wrist as Gram spread the wound like a clam shell. I tried to wrap my fingers around her pulsating heart, but couldn't quite get at it. I pushed her lung aside.

"Stop it! Da idi ty, fuck you! Otvyazhis'!" Tandi cried, but I didn't stop. I couldn't. It had to be done, or her pericardium would fill up with blood and squeeze her heart til it stopped beating. I kept digging around as the blood coursed over my hands and arms; I was slick up to the elbows with it. 

"Anyone got a flashlight?" Gram shook his head. I swore and spit on the ground. That was gonna make this next part a lot harder.

Tandi kept on hollering and thrashing as I tried in vain to get a grip on the pericardial sac without also grabbing the throbbing heart inside. My fingers were too slippery to pinch it, so I pulled the dinner fork out of my pocket and hoisted the sac up that way. It slipped off the fork a couple times before I could get it in a good position, but once I had it pulled taught, I didn't waste any time opening it up between the phrenic nerves- Tandi was dying quick. She looked like she'd been drained by a vampire, and her shrieks of pain had already quieted down to confused sobbing.

"Ah hell Isaac, I don't know how long I can hold this! Could you hurry up?" grunted Gram. I could see the muscles straining beneath his skin, bulging in his face and neck. His arms were quaking.

"Yeah, sure! Now help me turn her over…" I put my hands on Tandi's back and worked with Gram to move her on her side, so the blood could leak out of her cavity. The floor was covered in the stuff by now, and it had streaked and smeared where she'd been struggling. I tried to ignore it as I got down on my hands and knees and stared into her wound. "Great. I'm gonna peek down here again, try and figure out where it's-"

Before I'd even finished my sentence, a gout of bright red blood sprayed out the cut I'd made in the pericardium, all over my chest and face. It dripped down my glasses like some sort of cheesy horror-movie effect.

"Doc! Hey, Doc, I've got the stuff!" I looked over my shoulder to see Jas stumbling in through the back door, carrying both the stimpack bag and my medical bag in her arms. I motioned for her to set them down next to me. "Um, there's a few stimpacks here, which should I-"

"Fuck it! It don't matter!" Something like a laugh rattled through my chest as I snatched the syringe out of Jas's hand. Tandi's heart coughed out another gob of blood, but I'd already moved to the side, and soon my hand was in the clamshell wound again. My fingers clawed for the source of the blood. 

"I'm hurting bad!" grunted Gram. I started probing with my stimpack.

"Well don't let go, use a- I don't know, use anything!" I was hardly paying much attention to Gram at this point. I could feel the blood coursing over my fingers as they brushed over some artery, can't say which one, and I figured pretty quickly where the rupture was. I jabbed the stimpack in. 

And Missed.

I tried again, and missed. Which gave me that sinking feeling that you get in your stomach when you realize that you've not got much time, and your body just isn't the right machine for the task. Usually that came with a certain embarrassment, that telltale hotness of the skin, but not this time. This time, the hair on my arms stood up straight, and the sweat on my skin grew cold.

 I looked over at Gram. His eyes were jammed shut, he'd bit through his upper lip- and his hands, shaking more than ever. My hands were shaking too. The animalistic energy that'd been carrying me through this had gone. For a moment, I was just a kid again, in over his head and scrambling for a way out. 

But it was only a moment. Like a lumberjack throwing all his weight behind an axe, I took three more passionate stabs with the needle before piercing the artery. I had no hope of suturing it now, so I just hoped to high hell that pushing stimpack juice through the pipe and pinching the rupture shut with my nails would actually work. I'd made so many choices based on pure hope already, what was more on the pile?

The moment I pulled my hand out and discarded the empty stimpack, Gram grunted and collapsed on top of Tandi. He'd stopped holding the site open, but his fingers were still buried in the bleeding wound. His lungs rattled with each jagged breath.

"What- what should I do? Do you need help with her?" panted Jas, and I waved her away. I was panting too, panting and hot and covered in sweat and blood and god knows what else. I could feel my heart beating in every crevice of my aching body.

But was Tandi's heart still beating?

Her eyes were open and unreactive, her skin was pale and waxy. Seemed like she was breathing, but the hairs on my arms still stood up as I prodded around for a pulse near her groin; there was nothing at first, then a faint squirming beneath my fingertips, and then nothing again. The skin felt cool as glass. I put my hand on Gram's back.

"What's her- check the pip boy, what's her BP say?" Gram lifted his head up just slightly to look at the pip boy screen.

"Seventy six and fifty." There was a solemn silence. "Is that…?"

"That's good. Better, I mean.

I wiped some of the sweat off my brow again. It was pointless, seeing as how I probably deposited a bunch of blood when I did it, but I had to let out all that relief somehow. I hadn't even been able to get a femoral pulse when I'd checked last time, which meant that her pressure had been somewhere below seventy. A jump back up to seventy six was good news.

Of course, Tandi's troubles weren't over- her pericardium was slit, she still had herself a gaping hole in the chest, and the cavity was still full of blood in spite of my efforts. I grabbed my hand-suction pump from out of my bag and hooked up the reservoir, plunged in the tip, and got to work squeezing. An onlooker might have thought that I was still putting in my all, but at this point, my mind was elsewhere. I glanced over my shoulder. 

"Jas, you wanna be helpful, right?" I asked. I didn't wait for a response. "Prepare the worker's quarters for all these patients. I want beds, I want chamber pots, whatever we can get. And when you're done with that, you and me are gonna haul these folks upstairs."

Jas might've said something to me after that, but I couldn't hear it over the fuzz in my head, the static of stress. I looked around the room one last time, and I don't think I have to tell you the specifics of what I saw; just that I could tell right then that this would be, without a doubt, the longest night of my life.

[+]

[lillaxtrigger]

Young Hope: Chapter 37

The shining sun beats down its heat rays upon the vast, greenless landscape of Utah; the only shadows cast along the dry grounds be from the towering rocky formations upsetting the wasteland horizons. Miles underneath all this dry ground however be a network of caverns that stretch out deeper down into the earth, signs of green spreading out through the caverns the deeper down they go until growing to cover the rocks in the massively sized flora. Suddenly from an entire wall of the overgrown plants, a blade of jet black pierce right through and slice the vines straight off their stems; all the severed leaves and petals fluttering down to the ground and clearing the path for the black horned demon himself, Alex. Following the shape shifting demon through the flora dressed caves be his purple haired mentor and his orange haired sister; both of them trailing behind the boy as he continues to slice through the vines and plants in their path. “Roy, do you honestly think its still a good idea to come along down here; I mean you still haven’t fully healed yet?” the orange girl questions her purple hooded brother. Traveling along the back of the pack, the merc can’t help but scratch the spot where is missing arm once was while he answers his sisters worry with: “Mal, relax. The doc said herself how bout 94% of my bod’s good to go, practically ready to take on whatever wants me to bend over and take it from behind. A bit of minor pains ain’t gonna stop me from thrusting myself straight into the action.” “You’d like that, wouldn’t you. All I’m saying is that it wouldn’t hurt ya to spend about another week or two in bed.” “Tell ya what. Ya hire a nurse with some sweet ass cake to come in and give a full body on body exam and I won’t be a bitch. Til then, I ain’t layin in that bed another day. There’s only so much pornography can satisfy before it stops being pleasurable and starts making ya feel sad, like the kind of sad that makes ya question the fuck your even doing with your life. And you and I both know that I don’t need that being crammed in my overflowing vault of mental problems right now.”

“Hmph. Like your the only one with ongoing problems. One that would be nice of you to answer is why you decided to drag me along in this horrible ordeal of a spelunking expedition; having to soil my ability gardening through this overgrown cavern just so clear a path. It’s patronizing.” the demon leading the way chimes in with. “What it is is that I’ve been letting you metaphorically sit on your demonic ass for way too long now. We need to get back on track with our regimen so your don’t wind up turning into a pompous chode hole, that’s how ya ass gets flat. You wanna be out walkin around people hiding that plank ass of yours, or you wanna bake some delicious thick cake for whoever ya fancy given a slice too?” “For the love of sweet satan, just shut the hell up!” the flustered demon demands, his cheeks blushing bright red. “Yeah, please stop.” the purple angel’s sister begs for him.

“Aight, fine, fine. I get it, the sexual innuendo quota’s full here. Let’s just change the subject.” “Yes, lets.” “So, what’s with those numbers that you found in the middle of the mountain with yer threesome pals.” “I-” A small sigh escapes from her lungs as she decides to simply skip past her brothers wording and starts to dig into the contents of her backpack; soon pulling out the very same withered piece of wood that takes the shape of a severed hand. “We went and found this next to all those carved in numbers. Ryan claimed that they were a bunch of coordinates that pinpointed somewhere deep underneath the soil of the Utah wastelands. It’s still shocking to find something other than hallucinogenic liquid filled cacti growing down under the scorching rocks.” “You’d be hella shocked what sort of stuff you could find under the earth if ya dig deep enough. I recall the time I took a job digging out for an underground trading ring and wound up finding a bunch of people going around and trading all sorts of human, animal, and miscellaneous organs and body parts. Like it seriously didn’t matter where the hell it came from; long as you had a working organ from anything, you could make a marginaly medium profit from your harvesting venture. I specifically remember this one guy cashing in like 450,000 dollars for trading in a whale eye; a whole giant functioning whale eye. I seriously didn’t expect something so fucking huge to have an eye the size of a baseball.” “That is-...that is some serious grody stuff. What sort of demented and horribly grotesque mind would even think about running a bracket like that.” “Never really went and questioned who was running that joint, though that might’ve been for the best. The organ black market is vast Mal. Long as people need working organs to live, somebody’s gonna be in the market to trade for one.”

As the demon cuts straight through another bramble of plants that stand in the trio’s way, Alex’s foot is caught on a wooden root that sprawls across the ground and lets out a yelp as he starts to trip over; both Mally and Roy witnessing the demon straight through the ground. “Holy shit! Alex!” the orange skater exclaims while rushing over to where she had seen the demon fall, discovering a steep dark pit before them. “Alex!” she shouts down, gazing into the dark void of the cavernous pit. Amidst her panicking worry that she witnesses their demonic third simply hover right back out from the depths of the pit; the skater’s worry diminishing as she proclaims that: “Oh yeah, you can fly. It’s been a while since I’ve seen ya, hasn’t it.” “Hmph! Did you really believe that my demise would come from simply falling into a lowly pit? I thought you would have known better.” Alex scoffs. “Geez, sorry for being so concerned.” the orange skater coldly retorts, her expression beginning to sour. “Kinda looked like you didn’t exactly remember for a sec there either, mate. Seriously just yelping there like a little jackal getting their foot caught in a bear trap.” the merc jests to the demon. “Gee, I’m quite blessed to have so many others with my best interests in mind.”

Their eyes trail over to all the roots that pierce through the caverns hard rock, following them all straight into the very hole that the demon had fell down into; all the wooden roots growing thicker as they slither down into the holes depths. “I’m definitely feeling alotta stuff crawlin down there, it ain’t just these plants either. I’m talking strange things here.” the merc mentions. “What else could be crawling down this deep in the earth? Do you think that it could be hell down there?” his orange sister wonders aloud. “Hardly. We’d be drowning in our own sweat if it was.” the black horned demon corrects. “Whelp. Guess there’s one way to tell what’s down here.” Speaking this does Mally leaps right down into the depths of the mysterious hole, with her purple brother following her straight down into the void after; Alex simply hovering right over the hole and stating out: “As if you’d see me recklessly plunging down into some random pit.” Countering the demon’s very statement, Roy reaches right out from the depths of the void and grasps his pupils leg; Alex letting out a terrible shriek as he’s forcibly pulled down into the abyss.

Amidst their delve straight into the unknown depths of the pit, the three suddenly feel themselves splash down into a strong water current; the trio fumbling through the dark rapids as they’re swept deeper into the cavern river. While fighting against the forceful water flow, Mally reaches into her backpack and feels around for her trusty grapple-yo; her eyes adjusting to the darkness as her and the others that fumble behind her. Finally does she pull out her gadget right out from her pack, immediately tossing the yoyo straight to her brother; the gadgets string wrapping right around the merc’s leg. “Roy, get Alex!” she calls out to her sibling. Though Alex rolls right out along the merc’s left, Roy nonetheless attempt to catch his pupil before he could fumble further down the rapids; his right arm failing to reach the demon in time before Alex tumbles further down the current. “He coming your way, Mal!” he alerts to his sister. When seeing him tumble straight her way, the orange skater reaches out for demon and tightly grasps one of his black horns; Alex letting out a little yelp as the unexpected touch makes him puffs into smoke to switch from a boy to a girl. Despite the rushing rapids thrashing them all about, Mally maintains her hold upon her two companions as they all steer through the twisted and dividing river; the skater refusing to let go of either of them no matter how hard they slam against the rocky tunnels. But through the harsh of it all, the trio are soon greeted by a growing light coming from the end of the tunnel; the three of them closing their eyes tight as they’re forced straight through the end of the river rapids.

After a moment or two, the skater feels next to nothing underneath her feet; Mally slowly opens her peepers back up and lets her eyes adjust to the bright light that shines before her. As her eyes get used to this newfound light, the orange girl first beholds the very tunnel that her and the others had rode in through; the waters falling straight down and crashing into a lake below. Aiming her gaze straight up does she discover her gadgets string still tied to her brother’s leg, keeping her from plummeting out of the air. “Roy, you know where we ended up.” she asks him. “Just look for yourself.”

Gazing ahead like her brother suggests, Mally’s very pupils widen when discovering the incredible site that sprawls out before them all; the skater left to behold a vast, luscious jungle that sprawls out form what seemed like hundreds of miles on end; the horizon before them lush green mountains and peeks aplenty. Her site peers down to the plains that loom down below; finding what were numerous giant dinosaurs of many shapes and sizes all roaming through the valleys and lumbering across the thick jungle forests. One of the reaches its neck out up far above the treetops and lets out a thunderous roar that echoes through the entire vista; dozens of other dino’s and hovering birds joining alongside the outcry and creating a booming sonata of the jungle. “Whoa...But where is the light...” The orange skater peers right up above towards the very roof of these wondrous caves and discovers them covered in a blanket of strange crystals, all of them softly mimicking a glow that seemed like the sun itself; a light intense enough to avert her vision before it could harm her eyes. “All of this was underneath the dry lands of Utah the whole time. Incredible.”

Mally’s enchantment is then broken when hearing a voice beneath her grab her attention with: “Excuse me!” Glancing down to the demon she holds in her grasp, she hears Alex further request that: “Might you be so kind as to let go of my horn!?” “Oh right, sorry.” the skater utters as she complies to the demon’s demand; releasing Alex’s horn from her grasp and letting the demon hover through the air on her own. Aiming her site back up to her bro, Mally takes a turn to request that: “Yo Roy, mind kicking me up?” Upon his sisters request does the merc jerk his leg back and flings the skater right up in the air; Mally flipping through the air as she descends back down and lands right atop her flying brothers back. “So now that we got all the excess eye candy outta the way, what do ya think were supposed to be lookin for down here?” the purple merc asks her. “Hmmm...Good question. Guess what were hear to find out is what that hand we found in the mountain might’ve been trying to tell us.” “So just to be clear on this, do you even have a plan set on what were doing here?” Alex questions as she hovers over to their side. “Uh...Not really. I’ve kinda been following bread crumbs this entire time.” “Well, that certainly reassuring.” the demon sarcastically claims. “Guess that’s why they call it an adventure; to broaden our comfort zones and plunge straight into the unknown. I mean if people weren’t forced straight into the wondrous horizons, then they wouldn’t have gotten used to living alongside people like you.” the merc explains to his pupil; something that Alex seems to take visible offense to. “Wait, I didn’t mean...” Before the purple angel could apologize for his miswording, the demon looks away from him; Roy letting out a little groan upon his blundering statement.

As both the angel and demon start to float down onto the rough jungle landscape, Mally hops right off her brothers back and onto her own two feet; all the while Alex keeping her back turned away from her purple mentor. “Shit. Did I really sound that racist? Or demonist, I think? I just meant how anyone these days is willing to let others in their social circles.” the merc whispers to his sister. “That might just be the problem though. The few times I actually catch Alex at school, she’s usually all by her lonesome; sometimes snooping around to stalk Kingsley from class to class. I mean sure, there’s Cayenne jumping in to keep her outta trouble. But beyond that, most people that are around just tend to avoid her.” “Damn, didn’t realize how off I was with that whole xenophobic ball busting speech.” “I’m not sure if that really the crux of the problem.”

Peering back to the girl in question, the two look over just in time to witness a small lizard start to crawl out to Alex; the demon turning into a boy as he reeling back exclaiming: “Ugh! Vile thing!” Flailing his foot out to the small and harmless reptile, Alex scares the tiny lizard back from whence it came; gazing to the retreating reptile with a wicked grin as he taunts with: “Yes, run; you fowl creature! Return from the dung filled hole from where you spawned!” A short grunt manages to slip out from his mouth before the purple merc laments on how: “I thought this whole self superiority bullshit would’ve been buffed outta him by now.” “How you even brought up the subject of humility at all to him?” Mally then question. “Where exactly am I supposed to start with a mess that big?” “Come on, Roy. We both know you were an even bigger mess at 3 quarters of his age and you manage to get better. You need to make some leeway through to him, and what better time than any.” his orange sibling proclaims before shoving the merc right over to the demon; Roy nearly falling over from the unexpected push.

When realizing his purple mentor approaching, the demon simply gives Roy the cold shoulder as he simply peers away; Alex hearing the angel let out a little sigh before attempting to state: “Alex, listen. I think I need to clear up a couple things on what I said a few minutes ago. See, when I said that, what I meant was-” Right before Roy could even speak even another word on the matter however, all three of them hear a thunderous roar ring out through the whole jungle; one loud enough to cause the tree’s surrounding them to tremble like tuning forks. Emerging out from the treeline be the head of a monstrously sized Tyrannosaurs rex, its gigantic sharp toothed maw drooling as its cold beady eyes stars down upon the three; none of them even slightest bit fazed as they all look back to the giant. “Eh, gimme a sec here.” the merc request as he turns over to face the dinosaur. The towering T-rex then thrusts its gaping maw straight out to the approaching merc, ready to chomp down upon his flesh with just a single bite. Just before the ferocious beast could chomp down upon the purple angel, Roy throws his only fist straight out to the dino’s head and punching the dinosaur hard enough to send the thrusting back out through the jungle depths from where it had emerged; its careening body knocking down dozens of tree’s before skidding to a stop in the dirt. Arising from the soil, the once mighty T-rex gazes back over to the very angel that had sent it flying; the dinosaur racing away in a trembling fright and retreating deeper into the jungle.

When Mally peers over to her brother’s side, she notices him having a little bit of trouble moving his arm back into place; small grunts quietly escaping from between his teeth as he slowly jerks his only arm back down. “Roy, you sure you’re as aight as you say?” “Come on Mal, you know it ain’t nothing I’m used to.” Turning back to both his orange haired sister and pupil, the purple angel continues with: “So, whatdya think that hand ya found back in the mountain might’ve been trying to tell us pointing out a place like this?” “I’m...I’m not really that sure. That ice golem that guided us into the center of the mountain was hella bummed about whatever was on that icy pedestal going missing. These coordinates that hand left behind might’ve been a warning. Least that’s how I’m reading it.” “You think that the sites you had on this Mall guy Tore’s paling around with might be starting to line up?” her brother asks. “To be honest, I’m hoping they’re not.” Amidst their conversation, Alex cuts in between the siblings and claims how: “Hmph! If your blue brother was gullible enough to hastily set out with some rando he barely knows, then I say that fool might as well deserve whatever trouble he ends up in.” “Thanks Alex for your completely unnecessary and impractical input.” his purple mentor mentions. “It’s apparently all I’m here for.” Letting out a frustrated groan, Mally starts to trek out through the forest as she suggests that: “Let’s just get a move on. There has to be something here that this hand might’ve been trying to warn us about.” While the two boys begin to follow the orange skater through the thick of the prehistoric jungle, a figure peeks out from the tree’s behind them; their sky blue sclera squinting as they stare out to the trio as they trot along.

Not long after starting their trek through this prehistoric window through time, the three come to discover a deep, vast valley of thick, ivy covered tree’s that tower high up above; all the numerous branches that spread out from their bark stretching out to twice the size of jumbo highway truck beds. “Damn, can’t even see those crystals under these thick ass trees. You needin another flight, Mal; cause I don’t think Alex would say no if you rode him.” “Excuse me? As if I’d let anyone taint by backside so casually.” the demon object. “Doubt you’d be bitchin right now if it was Kingsley.” “You two are kidding, right? You really think I’m gonna pass up a chance like this? Check this out.” Upon her very words, Mally lunges straight out to the collection of ivy covered tree’s and lands right on one of their many branches; sliding right along the length of ivy until jumping out to the next branch. “That’s the spirit, Mal.” her purple brother cheers her with; both he and his pupil gliding through the jungle air to follow after.

Along her little skate through the prehistoric thick jungle skyline, Mally skillfully leaps right off from branch to slippery branch as if she was grinding from rail to rail; dozens of exotic birds fluttering out from the tree’s as she and the boys speed through the forest. Up ahead does she find barely any branches along the path to jump to, the skater eyes peering up to discover a couple of other limbs hanging above; Mally taking out her hockey stick upon seeing the opportunity before her. Leaping further up to one of these branches, the orange hooks the head of her weapon right along its bark; the momentum of her jump causing her to flip along the limb until she launches herself upwards to the treeline above. Once coming to the arch of her ascent, the orange lass takes out her trusty grapple yo and tosses it right out towards the branches ahead; the gadgets string enveloping one of the branches and letting her swing right up to another stretch of ivy.

After landing right along the branch does a blur streak right past the girl, nearly hitting the skater right along her side. “Whoa, what was-” Gazing out to the site up ahead, Mally finds an entire flock of winged reptiles gliding right towards them; their cold eyes glaring to the trio as their jaws ready to bite upon their skin. Another lizard breaks off from the flock and lunges ahead to the skating young girl; loud hiss escaping from its maw as he dives right down to its potential prey. Just as the carnivorous reptile was ready to sink its teeth into her, Mally swings her hockey stick straight into its open mouth and sends it careening straight back its flock; the lizard crashing straight into a number of its brothers and sending them down to the jungle floor with it. When a chunk of their flock is struck down, the entire swarm charges out to the young lady all at once; Mally tossing her grapple-yo out to the crowd and wrapping one of them in its string. Having one of the lizards in her grasp, the orange skater leaps right off the branch and spins right in the air; twirling the trapped reptile around and swinging it right back to its very flock. The entire swarm splitting off in different directions to evade another of their swung back members.

Despite the flock of deadly lizards having been broken apart, a couple of them persist and glide right out to the girl just as she starts to land upon another ivy covered branch; both of their mouths salivating as they attempt to strike from above and below. Moments before either of them could take a bite right out of the airborne skater, a pair of streaks swoop right in and knock the right out of the air; Roy kicking the one above while Alex slices the other clean in half. Finally landing upon the jungle branch below, Mally turns out to her two partners as they start to hang back and gives the duo two thumbs up with a thankful smile.

“Rather vapid of her to thank us for fixing her screw up. I would have at least made sure the whole flock was killed so that none of them could come back.” the demon claims. “You weren’t exactly eager to jump in against them all with her. Doubt there would be any of them left.” “Please, why would I even waste my breath on such inferior reptiles unless absolutely necessary?” “Because your part of this team, dick wit.” “Ha! Team. I seem to recall you practically kidnapping me against my will, all the while deceiving my foolish mother in claiming it all to be nothing more than a simple train trip.” “Hey! I didn’t spurt out a single white lie to your sexy milf momma. I told her that life ain’t gonna wait a single sec while you prep for whatever kind of curveballs its got planned to throw at ya pair of sweet cheeks. Gotta be ready to bat the ball back right into its stupid fucking face.” “Oh, believe me. I am more than prepared to face whatever challenge this existence has to stop me.” Right on queue of stating this does the demon accidentally smacks straight into a jungle branch, his purple mentor slowing down to witness Alex plummet straight down to what seemed like the waiting maw of a giant plant. “Agh. Mal, might need an assist here.” he calls out to his orange sister. Hearing her purple brothers call out, Mally takes a look back in time to witness the giant weed devour the little devil with just a single gulp; the skater letting out a little yipe before she takes out her grapple-yo and tossing it back out towards the site.

While racing right out to the towering plant that had consumed his pupil, Roy aims the palm of his hand out to the weed and fires out a beam of black and purple straight to the neck of the carnivorous flora; the ray cutting straight through the stem like clean butter and decapitating the plant in one swoop. The head of the monstrous plant having been severed, the purple merc gazes down to its giant bulb along the bottom and discovers something kicking underneath. “Alex, just cut right through!” he shouts to the demon trapped within. Upon these very words does a blade of jet black pierce straight out from within the bulb and slices straight through the flesh of the plant; a bout of steam wafting out as the black horned demon attempts to crawl his way out from the flora’s very stomach. Right as he begins to fully pry himself out from the depths of the plant, an entire mess of tendrils wrap around parts of his body and start to drag Alex straight back within the stomach; the slashed piece of the bulb regenerating as the demon is pulled right in. “Dammit!” His eyes are drawn above the bulb when the cut stem attached starts to furiously wriggle and bulge; the neck erupting in a splatter of gooey chlorophyll as a half a dozen more voracious plant head burst out, growling out a vicious sonata as she peer out to the angel hovering over them. “Gotta be kidding with this kind of Cerberus bullshit.” he curses. “Hydra.” his sister corrects as she swings right into the scene.

The orange skater swings over to take a crack at the deadly weed herself; leaping into the air and tossing her trusty gadget straight out to the bouquet of carnivorous green, her yoyo’s steel string wrapping around the plants numerous necks to bundle them all together. Mally streaks right past the tied tethered green and slams straight down onto the ground; all of the heads struggling and squirming as the orange skater tugs them all aside, demanding that her purple brother: “Get’em outta there!” From his sisters request does Roy delve straight down towards the stomach of the carnivorous plant, ready to thrust his fist through its flesh. Before the merc could even touch a single leaf of the restrained bouquet, a thick tree suddenly bursts out from the ground right underneath him and practically uppercuts the angel up to the treetops; Roy screaming out as he’s launched out beyond the leaves above. “Roy!” Among witnessing her brother being shot right out of the scene, the string wrapped around the bouquets numerous necks start to unravel; Mally ultimately losing her grip as the deadly green shakes itself free and is flung straight out towards the trunk of one of the jungle trees. Right after feeling the jungle tree’s harsh bark slam right against her back, Mally peers up to witness all of the heads that she had once kept down now lunging their maws right out to her; the orange skater able to do little but hold her hockey stick up to black the oncoming heads.

Right as all of the deadly heads tempt to take their bites out of the young girl, Mally sees each one of them suddenly come to a halt just a few feet from her; drips of their saliva drooling along the grounds right next to the young lass. Whaaa… As she questions why every one of them stops just short of gnawing her to bits, the skater watches as all of them forced to retreat back to the very bulb that keeps them together; even the heads being pulled right back from wench they had sprouted. Once all the heads were sucked back in, the bulb itself starts to shrink down while being uprooted from the earth; Mally glancing underneath the shrinking weed to find something of wood standing right behind it. As the entire plant is further shrunk down, she soon discovers not another strangely shaped tree, but a figure made from wood roots and leaves that grasps the weeds bulb and sucks every part of the plant into its body; their bright blue sclera upsetting the aged wood that makes up the figures very features with some of the deadly plants head poking out from its roots. The bulb that had trapped the demon is finally dispersed, exposing a female Alex to the open jungle air once more; her face twisting in utter disgust as she finds herself covered in juices and chlorophyll. “Ah, wretched!” Once having absorbed the rest of the killer plant straight into its body, the figure of wood and leaves thrust its other arm straight down into the soil beneath its feet; the roots of the carnivorous green sowing out from its body and straight out into the soil below, all of them watching as the plant worms away deeper into the jungle.

While Alex remains occupied with swiping away all the leftover strange goop that covers her body, Mally walks right past the demon as she approaches the wooden figure that had saved their hides; extending a hand out to them as she greets with: “Man, I don’t think we can thank you enough for-” She’s just a couple feet away before the figure turns right back, the roots of its arm stretching out to form a sharp tipped lance that’s pointed straight down the orange skaters neck. The figures bright blue sclera narrow as it continues to stare down orange young girl, finally questioning to her in a raspy, but faintly feminine voice: “What are you doing here?” “Ju-just take it easy. We didn’t come here lookin to start trouble.” the skater assures the wood woman, her brother crashing straight into the ground a couple yards behind her. “We just wound up following some coordinates and got swept straight in this prehistoric jungle.” “Who told you of this location.” the withered wooden warrior demands to know, pointing the tip of her bark lance right onto the girls neck. “We found the numbers carved in the center of a mountain next to this hand.” Mally explains as she starts pulling out the withered wood hand in question. As soon as her blue eyes behold the palm she pulls out, the wood woman turns her weapon arm back to normal as she snatches the severed hand right out from the skater grasp; the wood woman retracting her arm back to her head so that she can examine the palm closely. The wooden warrior once cold killer gaze twists into a mixture of bewilderment and lament while staring down to the severed palm she holds in her hands, letting out a small breath before whispering: “Nevaline. So you did make it.”

Amidst this brief moment of grief does a streak of black and purple streak right past Mally and rockets right into the wooden warrior; the purple merc grasping the wood woman by the neck and pins her right against the side of a thick jungle tree. “Roy, wait!” Mally shouts as she races out to the two. Though the orange girls fails to stop the conflict from starting as the wood woman shoves her arm into the very tree her purple foe pins her down to; a sharp branch suddenly bursting out from the side of the tree and twisting right at the merc. Roy lets go of the wood woman as he retreats away from the thrusting limb, the edge of the bladed branch slicing the socket of his missing limb; the limb twisting around and attempting to drive its tip straight into the purple angel. Right before the branch could drive its tip anywhere into the merc, the orange skater delves right in the nick of time and breaks the limb in half with just a single swing of her hockey stick. In the very next moment does Mally drive her weapon straight into the earth and leaps backwards to kick her purple brother aside; Roy skidding across the dirt and stopping just short of slamming right into a rock.

“Ah! Mal, what the hell was that for!” the merc exclaims. “You just tackled the person that saved Alex’s hide.” “What?” The merc witnesses his demonic pupil walk into the picture as she swipes away the last of the gooey chlorophyll off her; confirming that: “Indeed. And about time to. It was practically vomit inducing within that vile plants stomach.” “Try telling that to my arm socket.” Roy counters with; pointing out the bleeding gash inflicted onto where his arm once was. “I can-I can mend your wound. Just let me...” the wood woman offers as she starts to approach. Rising right off the ground, the purple merc starts to back away from the wood woman as she nears; ready for whatever sneaky bull she attempts. Peering right behind the wooden warrior however does he see his sisters cautious gaze, his siblings stare telling the merc to put his guard away; Roy stops backing away and presents his cut to the wood woman.

The wood woman reaches down to one of the patches of grass and makes a couple of blades slither right into her arm while warning the merc that: “This may sting a bit.” From this does the wooden warrior reach her arm over to the very wound that she had inflicted; the palm of her hand hovering over the merc’s arm socket as the pieces of grass she had taken slither out from the wood woman’s roots and pierce through Roy’s skin. The purple angel lets a little hiss escape from between his teeth as the grass worms its way around and over his arm sockets gash, the strings of green tying themselves together and effectively closes the merc’s wound. “That should stop any more of your blood from spilling out.”

Having patched up the cut she had inflicted upon the angel, the wooden warrior turns back to the orange skater  and presents the severed palm to demand: “Now answer me; what urged all of you to follow Nevaline’s directions down into this window of still time?” “We’re just trying to find where our brother went, following all this trace clues from an underground mystical library all the way to the center of a mountain and wound up coming down here-” Before Mally could admit any further info, her purple brother steps in front of the orange lass and starts to whisper: “The hell are you doing spilling our business to this piece of morning wood?” “She’s practically been the only thing down here that hasn’t tried to tear us into bloody meat chunks.” “Speak for yourself Mal. You serious not recall her launching me into the sky and cutting by arm socket open, recently?” “Honestly, that sounds like the fault of your own. Surely you of all people should’ve sensed her coming from a mile away.” their demonic partner brings up as she butts right in. “Gimme a damn break here. You know how many predators are lurking through these parts stalking us, and I was a tad busy saving your ungrateful ass.” “Yeah, we should be thanking...uh, thanking...” the orange skater mentions, her site turning over to the wood woman as she attempt to fish for a name.

“Carila, the soul keeper of this slice of time long forgotten and the very secrets it holds. I had intervened against your struggles against the deadly viper bulb to save the plant from your wrath.” “Well, seems for a keeper, you weren’t exactly in much of a hurry to aid us in the fight against that Tyrannosaurs rex or those vile flying raptor.” Alex snidely points out. “I admit, I thought that nature would simply take its course upon you all. But simply from observing you fend off all those carnivorous predators with such ease; I realized how less and less of a possibility that was. I approach you all now to request that you take your leave from this natural wonder and never return.” “Yeah, that ain’t happening.” Roy then tells her. “Indeed. And I’d like to see you stop us, you flat chested wooden tramp.” Alex adds. “If that’s what you wish.” Carila states as her limbs form into weapons.

Right as the three were about to lunge right out to one another, the orange skater once again stands between both parties; speaking on behalf of them all to the wooden guardian on how: “What Alex is trying to tell you that we can’t exactly leave yet, not until we get some answers for all the clues we’ve been following up til now. Whoever that hand you hold belong to, they used their last fleeting moments to carve in the coordinates we followed to get down here. You mentioned their name, you gotta know what they’re trying to tell us.” “And you said that you found these coordinates within the middle of a mountain.” Carila questions. “Yep.” The wooden keeper peers down to the withered hand that rests in her palm, letting out a little groan as she finally gives in and claims that: “If it was Neveline’s final request, then so be it. One that I hope was thought through. Just keep up.”

All of them watch as their newfound guild leaps right up to the tree’s and slithers along their bark like a serpent, Mally ready to jump after before she stops in her tracks when hearing her brother’s pupils remark: “Please tell me you’re not this daft.” “Excuse me.” the orange skater utters while glaring back. “Are you that moronic enough to trust the word of a strange woman that dared to point the tip of their weapon right to your neck?” the demon reinforces, her body shifting to that of a boy. “That strange woman just saved your buns from getting digested.” “Please, I did not need her charity. I was on the verge of escaping from the belly of the beast myself. I assure you that I’m not as defenseless as you’re claiming I am.” “I didn’t say a damn thing like that.” “No, but please. If you wishing to lead all of us to our eminent doom and destruction, then be our guest.” Alex states.

As Alex hovers out in the direction the wood woman had slithered out to, his mentor approaches the girl he had just argued with as she mentions: “Does he not realizes that this is why no one wants to hang around him?” “Yeah, I think I might need to have a word with him.” the merc admits. “Hey, are you to coming along or are you just gawking about waiting to be a prehistoric meal, keep up!” they hear the demon call to them with. “I hope you do so soon.” Mally hopes as both her and her brother leap up to the treetops to catch up to their wooden guide.

While both the purple angel and his demonic pupil hover through the jungle treetops, Mally grinds from branch to branch as all of them follow their newfound wooden guide, who slithers in and out from tree to tree. In the midst of their travels through the tree’s, the wood warrior decides to pry with: “Might I ask what may your ends in coming down here be? I wish to know what Nevaline was attempting to warn you all about.” “Uh...” Leaping right off the tip of a branch, the orange girl spins back to peek over to her purple brother for a clue of what she should do; finding the merc simply shrugging at her as she lands right upon another limb. “Like I said, we’ve been trying to find out where our brother wound up being dragged to. Our one solid lead to go off of is what he not only called himself, but what he had called the man he follows too.” “You seek knowledge of the Kybr, correct?” Carila question.” “Ah, yeah. How’d you-” “Believe me when I say that the Kybr have quite the extensive history; one that the gods themselves were hoping to bury with the passage of time.” “Any chance you could teach us what that history might be?” “Afraid not. But do not fret, your answers shall all be revealed once we travel to the very edge of this domain. Then and only then will you find out what the Kybr truly were.”

Tailing right behind the orange girl and wooden woman, Alex hovers aside his black angelic mentor to comment: “I highly doubt that this living bunch of old roots is so willing to lead us through this jungle for the sake of her departed friend. There’s a clearly ulterior motive afoot.” “I ain’t doubting that. But this whole trail for Tore’s provin hella thin as is; we gotta take in every lead that we get here.” “Rather foolhardy on your end if you ask me.”

“Yeah, speaking of shitty ends, we gotta talk about the way you just piss people off.” “Agh, not you too. I get enough of that sort of infernal yapping from my asinine mother.” “I’m just gonna cut through the bull here and say that maybe constantly acting like pompous dick horned asscheek ain’t gonna get up any friendly faces. You’d probably get way more tail and cooch waiting for ya at the end of the day if ya quit being such a stuffy little bitch.” “Oh, and you’re confident that piece of advice fares no hypocrisy coming from you? How everyone just tends to avoid you as well? Don’t think for a moment I haven’t heard all the stories concerning you and your demeanor when greeting others. Of how you ask almost everyone, even going up to multiple people at once if they’re down to quote on quote “Diddling down in the back alley” with all the charm and subtly of a wayward perverted slob.” From this very statement does the purple merc let a bout of laughter escape from him, Alex hovering back a bit as his mentor’s chuckling starts to die down before the merc responds: “Diddling down in the back alley”. Where did you even-...Did someone actually say that or did you just pull that outta yer ass.” “My point being here is that don’t not exactly have the heart of the public eye either.” the demon rings back. “Hey, least I’m open and outta the gate with that to people. Ain’t like those kinds of dipshits that try to walk around questions and be those fedora tipping self entitled jackass’s. I mean if the people would be less strict about fucking one another, the world would be an honestly happier place for everyone.” “What in the living realm of sweet satan are you paddling about?” “Uh, what was I talking ab- Right, right, right, right, your attitude. All I’m saying is if you don’t wanna wind up reflecting back on your life wondering why ya got nobody to talk to and comfort ya; then quit recklessly putting other people down and stroking yourself like a self masturbating stiff prick.” the merc concludes

“Oh really. Did you hold that sort of attitude when you were with Roxanne?” The mere mention of the girls very name proves enough to send a powerful jolt through the purple angel’s entire body; his expression breaking into disbelieving shock as he turns to his pupil and simply utters: “What?” “Did you really not hear all the rumors and blog posts being passed around about all that juicy drama? Cause from what I’ve heard, the two of you didn’t exactly split things off quite cleanly. All of them kept saying that you were the one acting like the right dick in that whole shpeal.” “W-wh-what the hell does all that gotta do with now?” “I’m just saying that if you’re wishing to criticize me for my behavior, shouldn’t you set a better example?” “You have no fucking clue what happened between us that night!? You really think your gonna get away with going for those kinds of low blows!?” “Hey, if were taking stabs at each other for how we treat people; then I sure as hell ain’t gonna miss the chance to get a couple in. An eye for an eye sort of approach really.” Upon the demon’s very words is Roy left utterly speechless, his enraged gaze cooling into a contemptuous glare before he finally responds with: “No wonder you don’t have any friends.” This last remark manages to shatter Alex’s smug grin so that only a glaring hurt remains; the demon shifting into a girl as she watches her mentor glide out ahead to both the orange girl and the wooden woman up ahead.

Gliding right between both his orange sister and the wooden woman, their newfound guide can’t help but squint her blue sclera eyes straight the purple angel; Mally meanwhile questioning her: “Why can’t you just simply explain all this yourself.” Shaking her gaze away from the purple merc and states how: “The knowledge that you seek simply cannot be put into words; thus I lead up all through this slice of still time to something needs no words to show you. Held with the confines of my sacred grotto lies a piece of wood nymph wood containing an unflinching, unbiased memory of the nature of its time. One that has been preserved since the Kybr’s inception.  If you truly seeks to learn of what the beings that she seeks out truly are, then they must let this root pierce into their minds and share its secrets with them all.”

Along their travels do the numerous jungle tree’s finally begin to thin and dwindle before them, letting the sunny light shine upon them once more as all of them start to reach the end of their forest trek. Leaping straight through the end of the woods do they come to witness a vast, crystal clear lake, reflecting the soft glow of the shinning rocks that shimmer above them all. Mally strolls over to the shoreline of the wide lake to discover half a dozen towering dinosaurs that float just above the surface; some of them swimming over to the shores to walk upon the land. “Wow...” the orange skater wondrously utters. “Yes indeed. Let’s truly thank our rashly trusted guide for leading us to absolutely nowhere, I’m sure that the majestic site was more than worth nearly being devoured alive.” the demon sarcastically mocks. “I did bring all of you hear for more than just the site. The scared grotto of my kind lies right underneath this very lake, buried underneath the galleons of crystal clear waters.” Carila counters. “Hang on here; you seriously expecting us air breathin motherfucka’s to swim all the way down into this who the hell knows how deep body of water?” “Oh no. You won’t have to touch a single drop to enter. Give me just a moment.”

Saying this does the wooden nymph waltz over to the very edge of the vast lake, lifting her root arms as high as she can before kneeling down and thrusting them right into the shoreline; the wood warrior remaining utterly silent as the trio behind her simply stare and watch. “Oh, the hell is this woman even doing?” Alex asks. “Are...are we supposed to do something with her while she’s like this?” Mally questions. “I think I know exactly what were supposed to do with her.” Roy suggests with a stretching grin. “NO!” both his sibling and pupil harshly deny.

Its after the two deny the merc’s request that they begin to feel the ground underneath their feet start to gradually quake, all the exotic birds perched along the edge of the woods behind them flying off as the trembling grows more fierce. Among the constant quaking are their sites drawn over to the lakes quivering waters, where upon they begin to witness dozens upon dozens of what seemed to be wooden tree roots arise from the surface; all of the clustered together as they erect out from the center of the lake. Water spurts right out between the encircling walls as the roots continue to rise out, the trembling starting to die down as they trio see before them an entire sphere made from wooden entangled roots; a path of wood erecting out from the lake trailing straight to the hole leading right inside. Once the entire ball had been risen out from the depths of the lake, Carila finally uproots her arms right out from the shoreline soil; the wooden nymph slowly pulling herself off the ground as the angel behind her questions: “So, this the grotto you talkin about.” “Indeed...” Though Alex is left agap by the incredible bout of natural power that the wooden woman had just displayed before her; the demon shakes off her astonishment and recollects herself to faux say: “I-I-I must admit, that was not half bad for a woman with such a plank chest.” Peering over to the very woman who had just finished erecting the entire cluster of roots, Mally finds the wooden warrior on the verge of passing out; the orange skater coming to her side and brushes her hand against the wood woman’s side. “You need a minute?” Upon asking of her well being does Carila simply swipe Mally’s palm away from her side; simply responding with: “I’m fine. Let’s just move out.”

While Mally follows the weary wood woman along the freshly erected root built path leading straight ahead, the demon and her mentor opt to simply hover along overhead; Alex glaring down to the wooden nymph as she ponders aloud: “Does she really take us for such dimwitted fools? Surely she doesn’t think that we would let her lead us right into her “sacred grotto” without even an iota of suspicion?” Hearing his remarks gaining not even so much as a single response, the demon peeks over to the purple angel hovering right beside her and see’s him simply ignoring her; rather staring down to his phone and texting. Left upset with the merc’s lack of attention, Alex shifts into a boy as he further questions: “Oh come now. Are you really still upset from calling you out over your double standards? Get over yourself already.” Despite his pupils clearly callous, Roy simply continues to look down to his phone, watching as a fresh text from his sister comes in reading:

Mally: “Did he seriously went and bring that whole mess up?”

Roy: “Yep.”

Mally: “What the actual hell! I kind see where Alex is coming from, but seriously bringing up that whole business with you and Roxanne was just a step too far.”

Roy: “I’m just done here. I seriously don’t know what to do next.”

Mally: “Why don’t I chip for a bit, have a little talk with him.”

Roy: “Wouldn’t mind if you whipped his ass either.”

“I must warn you now.” the orange skater starts to hear their wooden guide start to speak; Mally putting her phone away as she listens to what Carila has to further say. “Due to its very nature, the memory root shall attempt to bore itself into your mind to share the knowledge locked away within its very veins; the knowledge of the Kybr themselves.” “We really can’t thank you enough for leading us through this slice of prehistory; I gotta come clean here. That whole bread crumb trail I’ve been following was serious about done. I couldn’t figure out what the hell we were supposed to do down here before you came along.” the orange skater admits. “If that is all you simply wish out from this trip down, then I’d be more than happy to speed your trip along; simply as you not disturb any more of this domain.” “Ya don’t gotta worry a little green leaf on your head about it. We’ll be outta your hair faster than you can produce chlorophyll.” “Oh, I’m betting on that.” Nearing the hole leading straight into the spherical root cluster, both Roy and Alex begin to lower themselves down behind the orange skater and their wooden guide wander straight inside; a strange light beating upon them all as they enter.

Once their eyes start to adjust to the heavenly glow, the three peer out to behold what was field of red, near dying grasslands; the eerie plains of which decorated with open and withered tree that still drip out water from their hollow insides. “This is your grotto?” Mally despairingly question.” “It was...” the wooden warrior despondently confirms. “This is serious meant to be your sacred grounds? All the near dead flora spread through here makes it seem like a forlorn garden if nothing else.” the demon remarks. “Quit it.” Roy harshly growls. “What. No snappy and lewd comeback on your end?” Alex barks back. Rather than respond to his pupil, Roy simply glares out to the plains that lie ahead; the demon himself scoffing from his mentors shunning as he shares in the site.

Out along the very edge of this near lifeless grotto does the wooden woman lead the trio over to a small den made from the inside of a large hollow tree; the inside letting out this strange yellowish orange glow. Walking straight into this den do all of them find the very source of the light; a long single root that pierces straight through the earth below, with Carila proclaiming to them all that: “This root here is the very same that bestows the memories of the time it had grown in; to let another peer into the nature of its time. It however can only share its memories with but single entity and burrow its roots with their very mind to share its wisdom. So I must ask now, which of you three shall approach and bear the history it has to tell?” “You’re seriously expecting one of us to let this thing dig its tendrils into our heads? As if I’d let a dirt ridden plant like that come anywhere near me and taint my mind.” the demon rejects. “Yeah, I ain’t exactly in the mood to get brain probed either. Already made that mistake once letting the Austrian gov cut me open and dig out a chip that they accidentally lodged in there. The scares on the back of my head still itch like hell.” the merc also denies. Mally peers over to the two to find them both staring right at her, the orange skater asking them: “So your seriously expecting me to step up to the plate?” “Mal, you went through the highest of mountains to the deepest of pits just to try and find our bro. If anybody’s earned to find out the truth of this whole mess, it you.” her brother responds. Upon her purple brother’s very words does Mally take in a deep breath while turning out to the mystical root in question, exhaling before beginning to approach the piece of wood; the orange girl feeling a strange sensation through her body as she nears the glowing root.

Once the girl stands before the glowing enchanted root, Mally and those behind her watch as the tip starts to grow out towards the young girls head; the tip splitting in two as it wriggles near the sides of her cranium. With the roots only a few inches away from her head, Mally peeks back to the wood woman and asks: “This isn’t gonna hurt, right?” Right then and there does Mally get her answer when the root’s tips pierce straight through the sides of her head and burrow themselves into her cranium; a yelping shriek escaping from her mouth as she starts to spasm and tremble. The angel and demon taking in the site see the young girl shortly stop her violent shaking and watch her as she slumps backward, discovering her eyes devoid of any pupils as she blankly stares out to them both. “Uh, she gonna be fine after this, right?” Roy concerns. “These roots secrete a special ooze which mends injury upon exiting the host. She will awaken as if nothing had happened.” their wooden guide assures. “And how long will it take for her to wake up?” “With how much the roots have to show, I imagine a long while.” From these words does the wooden warrior start to stroll back out towards the way they had ventured in, the demon asking: “Where the hell do you think your going?” “I have duty to fulfill. One that I had held myself to since I was just a sapling.”

Upon the wood woman’s leave, the two peer over to the young skater as she remains utterly comatose; neither of them able to do much in the moment besides wait for Mally to finish her little history lesson. “Whelp, got nothing better to do.” the purple merc, waltzing out towards a couple of dead hollow tree’s. “Th-that’s it? Am I not to expect some sort of evaluation, training regimen, or any kind of inine physical activity that involves violence, most inflicted on my end.” the black horned demon questions. “I...I-I’m not really in the mood Alex. I’d rather just go behind a couple tree’s and alleviate some stress going through my head...by masturbating.” As his mentor walks out to the dead tree’s, Alex peers to the purple merc with hints of wondering disgust; grumbling: “It still baffles me what sort of sick forces present in this universe that chose him over anyone else to me my guiding mentor.”

Once delving deep within the mental depths of her own subconscious, natural sunlight shines out as the orange skater opens her eyes; Mally giving herself a moment to adjust to the heavenly glow before finally taking in the very site she stands upon. Stretching out as far as her eyes could see, Mally beholds a vast, luscious meadow filled with colorful flora; the likes of which rival the size of oak tree’s as the sun shines upon their petals. Fluttering along all these numerous flowers does the girl witness what she at first seemed like dozens of butterflies; their wings showing dozens of unique designs and patterns with glisten with the sunlight. When one of them starts to descend down towards her, the girl holds her hand out to let it perch atop her index finger; her eyes widening when it finally touches down and discovers what these creatures truly were. A fairy. A small fairy the size of her head greeting the young girl with a friendly wave. Mally left astonished as she gazes up to the numerous others that flutter and dance away from her; the one that stood on her finger gliding off alongside the swarm.

The orange skater follows after the flock of fairies through the lush meadow of giant flowers, soon peering out from the flora to come to a steep incline leading up to a clearing above; the face of this grassy cliff decorated with dozens of branches. Immediately does the girl start to climb up to the top of cliff, grasping hold of the patches of grass and tree limbs that litter its very face; all the while gradually losing site of the fairies that hover above. When just about to reach the top of this steep cliff face, a patch of grass that she holds onto breaks off from the rock; Mally losing her grasp and plummeting back down to the bottom of the incline. Moments before she could slam down onto the earth below, the girl feels something grasp her arm and stop her from taking the nasty fall; the skater peering up to find one of the branches that sprout from the cliff face holding onto her wrist with a warm greeting smile. More of this wooden limb begin to crawl out from the depths of the cliff, revealing itself to be a figure completely made from bark and leaves; quite similar to the guide that she and the others had recently met. The rest of the branches that protrude out from the cliff all start to erupt from its very rock, all revealing themselves to be other wood nymphs that start to sprout out from the earth. When the whole group of wood nymphs start to pull themselves out form the earth and start to climb up to the top of the cliff, the one that holds Mally flings her straight up with just a single sling upwards; the orange girl grasping the very edge of the cliff when coming to the top.

All the sprouting wood nymphs climb to the top of the steep incline as the young skater pulls herself up above the edge with them; Mally standing tall above the rock to behold the site that lies before her. Frolicking through the meadow plains does she discover numerous mystical and legendary creatures, all roaming about and coexisting with one another; centaurs proudly galloping through the calm plains, hard rock golems lumbering out in the distance, foxes with numerous tails racing along the thickets off grass, rabbits with but single horns protruding out from their heads that feast upon the wood nymphs offered leaves, even strange chimera’s sporting the body parts of numerous animals. When she finds dozens of shadows gliding over these flowery plains, Mally’s eyes peer up to the clear blue skies above and witnesses dozens of hovering beasts and creatures all taking through and sharing the air. Pegesi that gallop through the air, griffins that flap through the skies, dragons that huff out bouts of sparks from their nostrils, harpies that share the lower forms of wolves gliding alongside the gentle breeze, little plant creatures whose petals spin like helicopter blades. Incredible. These creature are all from legend, myths. They’re numerous. But why are they here? What even is this place?

The beautiful site of these vast and lively plains start to waver when dark clouds begin to blanket the clear blue sky in their darkness; Mally beginning to feel the very ground that she stands upon start to gradually tremble. Midst this earthly quaking does the orange skater discover a bright tan light that emerges out from the clouds, the glow beaming out from a pair of angelic wings that stem from the back of a human that hovers above them all. Is that… Fluttering above all the numerous mythical creatures of old, this winged figure thrusts their limbs down to the very trembling earth below; the rocky grounds soon fracturing apart at the very seems and uprooting chunks of the earth up towards the skies. The chilling outcries of the numerous mystical fauna pollute the very air with terror as the earthbound creatures fall into the depths of the stretching fissures, never again to see the light of day as they plummet down into the once peaceful grassy plains. Not even the giant rock golems prove safe from this horrifying phenomenon, their very earthly bodies fracture and crumble into chunks of broken stone; their remains joining the chunks of the earth in their ascent up towards the angel. Presented with this very threat do all the numerous sky bound beasts all take charge towards the angelic figure, their claws and beaks ready to rend the angel to pieces in their vengeful rage. Yet their numbers prove utterly fruitless as the angel gathers the ripped pieces of earth aside him and cast them all forth towards the armada; the entire airborne army shot down out of the sky from the barrage of rocks. Left distracted by the horror’s playing out before her, Mally fails to notice the earth beneath her feet crumbling apart; the ground finally giving way and causing the young girl to plummet down alongside the dozens of other mystical creatures to their doom.

Among plummeting through the dark abyss, the orange skater starts to feel the very air around her grow warm the further she descends; drops of sweat beginning to drip up from her body while falling. Its suddenly through the dark that she feels herself slam right down upon a patch of flat earth, feeling an almost relaxing warmth radiating onto her back. From the unexpected impact, the young lady opens her eyes once more to find every bit of the void she had once descended down through replaced with warm streaks of red and orange that waft through the wavy air above; with only the site of a single hand with a fiery orange tan upsetting the site. Mally reaches up to the presenting palm and grasp it to feel herself being pulled right off the warming stone, peering out into the horizon ahead to discover a vast fiery valley made from scorched rock and veins of lava that flow through the land like natural rivers. Beyond these streams of burning liquid, she finds dozens of flaming creatures that crawl and slither through this burning valley of blackened rock and lava; slugs made from molten liquid, butterflies whose wings blaze as they flutter through the air, fiery phoenixes that trail embers through the skies above, packs of deer with curling horns that spurt out flames, insects sporting hardened magma carapaces. Even the flowing rivers of lava hold their own life that breach out from the gooey surface like hopping mullets partaking in the air above.

Her eyes wonder away from the rivers when noticing humanoid like inhabitants roaming throughout these lively scorching plains; their skin a fiery tan orange, their hair bellowing through the air like burning flames as they all ride atop equine boasting skin of blazing rock and flesh. While she views some of these fiery nymphs mingling with one another as they relax along the lava riverside; other ride through the blistering hot valley brandishing weapons that blaze crackling flames; the pack charging through and hunting the blazing deer that roam the plains. Staring out to the site of all the numerous fiery people does Mally suddenly feel a hand grasp at her shoulder; the orange haired girl glancing over to her side to find a woman with long fiery hair, giving her a warm and welcoming smile.

Breaking her eyes away from the welcoming fiery nymph does the orange skater come to witness a hint of blue corrupting the blazing orange sky; Mally peering out to discover this blue light to belong to a pair of flaming blue angel wings attached to what seemed to be a regular human. When the angel thrusts their hands straight out the fiery plains it hovers above, the orange girl begins to hear a disturbance; her attention drawn back to the blazing woman that stands beside her to witness her violently spasm and fall upon her knees. Collapsing onto the scorched earth does this woman start to vomit out spurts of lava from her mouth; her fiery color draining away as more and more of her precious molten ooze spews out from her maw. The whole display brings out an unimaginable fright upon the young orange haired girl as she watches the crying fiery woman suffer from the uncontrollable hurling; Mally retching only further when daring to look out to the others that reside in the blazing valley. Every other living creature from the nymphs to the magma insects all start to quake and collapse in unimaginable agony as their blood of red hot magma spews and burst out from their orifices; all of their bodies breaking apart as more of their bright lava escapes from their flesh and arise up into the fiery air. Among this horrifying nightmare do the veins of lava that had flown through the land erupts out in columns of blazing bright red, mixing along with the bright orange blood that twist through the air and gather atop the angel. All the lava extracted from every single piece of land and creature below the angel gathers right above their head into a massive sphere; one that threatens to grow to the very size of the moon. Out from this newborn core of burning hot lava, a bout of flames spurts out from the underside and descends out over to the young orange girl below; Mally closing her eyes and putting her arms against her face as the fires were seconds from engulfing her.

Outside of Mally’s full on mental envisioning nightmare, the orange girl’s body yet remains complacently right within the small wooden den as the memory root remains within her head; the black horned demon standing outside tiring of simply standing watch and starts to wander out to the dozens of hollow tree’s that litter the grotto. She’ll be fine. Rather take this dull moment to investigate something a curious notion itching in the back of my head. Upon approaching one of these withered trees, the first detail that catch’s Alex demon red eyes simply be the very middle of their stretched and bulged out inside; with only the parted wood leading within the hollow center. The lack of any visible marks outside suggest something might’ve resided within these tree’s once. But what strange and disgusting sort of creature could have dwell underneath it very wood, and why are they practically the only noticeable foliage decorating that wood woman’s grotto? Finally taking a little peek within the hollow inside of the tree, the demon discovers some of the roots failing to simply rise up with the wall; rather a good half of them rising out to the center of the empty space. Far be it from me to waste time studying dendrology, but its a certain fact the inside of them don’t form like this. Seems more likely that something grew from the depths of this wood. But was it what manner of creature that grew within it sapped away its very life, or perhaps would it be something else?

Before the young horned demon could continue to ponder any further on the whole strange matter, Alex lightly jumps when feeling what he felt like raindrops pattering along his backside. The devil? The young demon climbs right out from the depths of the hollow tree and peers above to discover a light drizzle pouring down from the roof of the enclosed grotto; drops of water leaking through the root cluster and dripping down towards the ground. Rainfall? We’re underground, under the dry wasteland of Utah. What matter of trickery is this? In pondering this very phenomenon does he witness an entire chunk of the ceiling break right off; an entire torrent gushish right out from above; Alex finally realizing the events that were transpiring. “Oh sweet Satan, the grotto’s sinking!”

Once realizing the watery doom encroaching upon him and his other’s, the orange demon disappears in a poof of black smoke; swiftly reappearing out to the cluster of tree’s that his mentor had retreated to. “We need to escape immediately. This whole poor excuse of a garden is starting to sink back do-” Amidst attempting to warn his mentor of the looming watery doom encroaching upon them all, Alex transforms into a girl as she riles back in utter disgust when witnessing Roy watch his phone with his pants down. Hearing his pupils verbal retch, Roy swiftly pulls his underwear right back and puts his phone away in a startled panic; collecting himself before turning back to the demon and questioning: “A-Alex! Pht-thed-de-Th-the hell is gotten into you!? Don’t you know better than to disturb somebody while they’re appreciating the precious art of multiple biological copulation?” “Can you quit jelling off to your disgusting smut for a single minute and look up!?” the demon demands. Humoring his pupils request, the purple merc peeks up and behold the root ceiling breaking apart and letting torrents of water flood down and drown the garden. “Oh Jesus, the grotto’s sinking.” the merc states in a blatant calm tone, Alex letting out furious growl upon his mentor finally realizing severity of their situation. “Kay, how bout you go over wake Mal up and get her while I try and figure out where my pants went.” the black winged angel orders, both of them splitting apart as Alex zooms out to the den they had left Mally within.

The demon zips straight inside that very same den, finding his purple mentors sister remaining attached to the memory root, still as comatose as ever. Alex rushes right over to the orange girls side and swipes her body right off the floor by her collar, frantically shaking her while screaming straight into her ears to: “Wake up, you crass ruffian! Our aquatic doom is loom over us and your still casually napping away like the moronic brute you are!?” A furious growl escapes from his teeth as he finds the young girl failing to awaken from her coma, Alex swiftly resorting to physical means to attempt to snap her out from her daze; be it slapping her in the face, kicking her in the shins, and twisting her arms with Indian rope burns. Alas do any of these methods yield even an inch of progress in waking Mally from her unconscious stupor, the demon throwing her body down on the ground in his frustration. “What must I reduce myself to free you, dammit!?” Upon exclaiming such a question do Alex’s bright red eyes trail from the sides of the orange girls head and all the way out to the very root bounding her in place; the black horned demon letting out an irritated sigh as he shifts his hands straight into a jet black axe. Nrrr. Lumberjacking it be then.

Moving right over to the root that holds his mentor’s sister in place, the demon tucks himself back before swinging the blade of his newly formed hand axe out to the side of its very wood; putting every bit of himself in each swing as he repeats the process over and over. With nicks of the root being chopped through, eventually does he manage to severe the wood straight off the trunk; Mally’s body falling over as the root tumbles down onto the ground. Returning to the young skater’s side however, Alex finds the girl still out cold. Damn woman! His masters sibling refusing to awaken from her comatose stupor, the demon is left with little other choice but to simply carry the girl out and starts to pick her right off the ground; Alex surprised with how easy he could heave her right over his shoulder. Huh, lighter then expected. Perhaps this whole training nonsense may not have been a complete waste of time.

The orange skater nestled atop his very shoulder, Alex zooms right out from the den and start to glide straight towards the flooding grotto’s ceiling; peering out to his side to witness his purple mentor return to his side donning pants and all. “This rugged sibling of yours refuses to awaken!” the demon tells the angel. “That so? I ain’t so sure she’s exactly done with her little history lesson yet. That root that’s in her head’s gotta have a hell of a bombshell to drop if she’s still out. “Agh! Of all times for class to be in session.” The angel leads the demon out to one of the rapid torrents that fall from the broken ceiling; Roy warning his pupil to: “Hold your breath.” Both Alex and his mentor take in as much air as they could while rocketing straight towards the descending torrent; the two piercing straight through the water in a huge splash.

Hurdled through an entire stream of bubbles, Mally herself careens through a body of thick, crystal clear water; attempting to close her eyes and hold her breath for as long as she could while submerged. Alas can she could not hold her breath a second longer, a great exhale escaping from her mouth with next to no bubbles of air coming out; the skater left astonished and dumbfounded when finding the water around her as breathable as air. Right, all this a memory. None of it’s real. Her eyes open out to the crystal clear waters ahead and let her behold the numerous aquatic life that swims through out these oceans; schools of fish traveling together, octopi stroking through the waters, sting rays gliding through the sea like butter, and other sea life flowing all around. Yet these dozens of common sea creature be not the only that roam through the ocean, the likes of which that catch her eye being what she could only remember described as myth. Semi aquatic humanoid people dawning scales across their skin with manes of teal that flow like the wind as they swim through the waters; dressed in clothing holding swirling bright color’s and golden jewelery. Giant serpents that stretch along the sea, their gnarling teeth contrasting with their gorgeous fins as they devour prey whole. Some pieces of the coral ocean floor arising and revealing themselves to be massive turtles that trudge along the bottom of the sea. A massive shadow casts down onto them all, some peering up to find the silhouette of an incredible leviathan passing above. But all this was, wasn’t it? What happened to them all?

Midsts pondering of this beautiful sea’s very fate, Mally comes to witness a light of orange delve down into the depths; a human dawned with bubbling orange angel wings glide straight out right in the middle of this oceanic site. When the figure motions their arms straight up towards the surface, pillars of light rain down and pierce through the waters; galleons of sea water being lifted up within the light as the inhabitants retreat deeper down into the depths. Despite swimming as fast as they could, some are engulfed within these glowing columns; some of the sea folk watching in utter terror as their fellow kin are forced to rise from the ocean and up and breach the surface. Engulfed within one of these pillars, Mally is forced straight up alongside the galleons of ocean and flies straight through the surface; covering her eyes as she rises up into the light.

The young girl feels that very light eventually dim, letting her slowly open her eyes to adjust to the newfound site; Mally staring straight up to an entire sea of stars that glisten like diamond along a dark blue sky. Something about the ground beneath her feels strange as she pulls herself up, a comforting surface the likes of which she had never felt before; the skater aiming downwards to find whatever she stands upon wistfully fluffy and dark gray. She sees this fluffy gray shortly end straight out towards an entire thicket of clouds that stretch out beyond the horizon; mountains of fluffy gray ascending up above like mountains, with some puffs drifting across the skies. Alongside these stretches of gray fluff, Mally witnesses dozens of airborne creatures gliding through the skies while sharing the air with one another; avian birds that boast majestic feathers that bellow through the air, glistening lizards that crawl just along the clouds, airborne manta rays that glide through the breeze. Among these numerous skybound creatures does Mally witness numerous people; humanoids with hair like flowing clouds and tattoos of the very winds that streak across their pale bodies. While she finds some of them simply standing tall upon the clouds and taking in the view and mingling with each other, Mally see’s others ride through the air atop the numerous creatures of the night sky. All this was here once before, wasn’t it? But then…

The moment of calming sireen is then disturbed when another angel with wings of pulsing teal winds erupts right out from the sea of gray clouds; the figure hovering above them all as they wave their hands above their head in a swirling motion. The very air itself that was once peacefully still following the angel’s motion and is quickly whipped in a bellowing frenzy, the dozens of creatures and birds that once glides through the sky are cast aside by the raging winds; some of them torn right apart in horrifying fashion as easily as tissue paper among the gales. Its among the swirls of their hands that the angel thrust their palms straight up to the very stars above; the winds that surround them all blending together to form a powerful twister,  one that rips apart the stratosphere itself. Countless outcries and panicking screams flood the raging air as all the creatures and people swept up into this deadly tornado are plucked out from the earthly skies and our sent straight out in to the cold void of space; never to be seen again. Try as she might to keep herself gripped upon the night clouds, Mally’s grasp proves not enough to fight against the incredible gales and is caught within the winds alongside the dozens of other people and mystical animals all drawn straight into the tornado’s wrath; thrust upwards into the starry abyss of space like the rest.

Along the very surface of the Jurassic lake do a pair of figures breach out from its very very depths; the water that splashes out from their ascent glistening from the sunny crystals above; both the purple angel and black horned demon gasping for much needed air as they water splashes back down. After coughing up whatever water may be still left in his mouth, Alex peers out to the shoreline to discover the very wooden woman that had guide pulling her arms right out from the ground; cursing out: “That vile wooden bitch! She did attempt to drown us in that horrid grotto!” While his angelic mentor shakes off all the water that soaks him, the demon then witness’s the wooden woman start to flee out towards the jungle edge; a sinister gnarl escaping from Alex’s teeth before he tosses the comatose skater in his arms out to his mentor with: “Here!” Though caught off guard when his pupil throws his unconscious sister straight to him, Roy manages to catch Mally with but his only arm; his demonic student then delving straight after the retreating nymph.

Racing away from the lake shoreline, Carila gallops back towards the very woods she lead her guests through as fast as she could run; suddenly stopping in her tracks when a streak of orange and black crashes down before her. The dust settles to reveal the black horned demon with his hand in the form of a spiked hammer, ready to swing down upon the wooden warrior. She leaps back away from the demon’s hammering assault and beholds the fury burning with the demon’s bright red eyes; Carila’s own eyes widening as she utters: “Y-You!? But that means-” The wood woman’s face morphs into a star of utter horror upon discovering the demon’s angelic partner touching down; witnessing him gently put the unconscious girl down along the grassy plains before fluttering closer. “Noooo!” she growls. “Indeed.” the demon counters, slowly marching to the wood woman. “Were you really foolish enough to believe that galleons of dirty Jurassic water would be enough to do away with me? A miscalculated assassination attempt that that we’ll shall surely make sure you pay with your life.” “Why did you trying doing that shit, anyway? If its for the whole jungle protector bit, I think punching some dinosaur and cutting some weeds isn’t exactly worth getting so pissy over.” the purple merc questions. “...Do you honestly believe that this has anything to do with any meaningless duty? Do you not know the ramifications that your very existence implies!?” From these very words does the wooden warrior transform one of her arms into a sharp splintery mace; soon charge out to the purple angel as she declares: “This stopped being about the job the moment all of you came down here!” Carila swings her mace arm out to his head once close enough to the purple merc; Roy swiftly kneeling down to evade the spiked weapon and kicks the wood woman right off her feet, making her fall flat onto her back. Peering up does the wood nymph witness the purple angel lifting his leg up and diving his foot straight downwards; the wooden warrior acting fast and burrowing straight down into the soil before Roy could stamp her right out.

Having witnessed their foe dig through the dirt to escape, Alex sweeps his site all around the shoreline; wondering aloud: “Where the hell did that wooden harlot scurry away to?” Glancing over to his purple mentor, the black horned demon finds the merc waltzing to his side while staring straight out to the jungle edge behind him. “The jungle?” Alex utters. Fully turning over to the forest edge, a smarmy grin stretches across his cheeks as he lets loose a little chuckle; mocking out with: “A failed assassination attempt and fleeing into hiding? What a sheepish loathsome guardian.” “Don’t think she’s exactly done yet.” his purple teacher warns. From this warming does the forest before them begin to quake, numerous jungle tree’s spurting out from the earth and clustering together to form one gigantic arm; the limb hammering its hard wood fist straight down to the duo. Roy and Alex split away from eachother as the giant arm dives straight down upon the earth in a furious hammer; the demon between them blocking the flying debris before he claims that: “No doubt she’ll keep attacking like this unless we flush her out.” “Think I know a way that we can to.” Roy follows with.

Along the other end of the gigantic wooden limb, Carila manages to dislodge her own arm right out from the stub of the massive cluster of jungle trees; the wooden warrior peeking out along the stretch to witness the purple angel zoom right out from the horizon. Once the wood woman was right in site, Roy fires out a deadly ray of black and purple out from the palm of his hand and straight out to his wooden foe; Carila springs up to the treetops above to evade the dark blast. As soon as she lands atop one of the branches overhead does the wooden guardian thrust her foot deep into the bark of the tree she stands upon; all the moss covered branches that protrude out from the tree lunge straight out to the approaching angel, with their sharp tips ready to pierce through flesh. The purple angel weaves himself around all the branches that thrust their tip out towards him as he zips straight towards the base of the tree; not a single bit of their rough jungle bark able to brush along his precious purple hood.

Once near the tree his foe stands upon, Roy rams his legs right against its trunk hard enough make the jungle wood begin to tilt over; the towering tree’s roots tearing out from the soil as its plummets. With the very tree she stands upon on the verge of crashing down, Carila pulls her leg out from its very bark and leaps out towards one of the logs that neighbor her; the purple merc seeing his moment to strike and rapidly rocketing right up to the airborne wooden warrior. Right when the guardian was about to land right onto another branch, she feels the mercs fist right against her chin; Roy delivering a rising uppercut that sends her flying straight up through the treetops. Having been sent several feet above the treetops, Carila regains her composure just in time to witness a pterodactyl gliding through the skies; a smile cracking along the wood woman’s cheeks as her arm sharpens into a thin tipped pike.

The merc soon breaches through the treetops himself and hovers along the brightly lit cavern skies, holding his hand right above his eyes to block out the light of the crystals as he peers out to where his wooden foe might’ve went. A high pitched screech then rings right in his ears from behind; the purple angel peeking back just in time to witness the sharp beak of a pterodactyl thrusting out to him. Roy veers out along the side in an effort to evade the dinosaurs skewering tip, feeling the underbelly of the winged beast brush along the fabric of his hood as the pterodactyl passes by; purple angel peering out to the dino to discover the wooden warrior riding atop the monster, all with one of her limbs rooted right into its brains. “Jeez, who’d think that the protector of the jungle would stoop to such hypocrisy; how the prideful and bold have fallen from grace.” he mocks. “To hell with this outdated piece of earthly history, it could drown into the depths of the abyss for all I care anymore! For once in my long and arduous life of wasting away in this worthless hole, I’ve found a calling of greater importance.” Upon these very words does the wooden warrior swing her arm out in the air, flinging out an entire salvo of splinters and thorns that rain down towards the angel; Roy covers his face as the flurry of wooden needles showers down upon him. Her angelic foe distracted by the shower of sharp thorns, Carila forces her flying steed to glide out to the young merc once more; her free arm morphing into a splintered scythe as she rapidly approaches. Just as the wooden warrior was ready to chop her foe’s head clean off his neck, Roy quickly jets up right out of her blades swing and grasp the guardians arm before she could pass by; the purple angel uprooting Carila straight out of the pterodactyl’s brains and flings her back in the direction of the lake. The wooden warrior crashes right along the Jurassic lakes shallow shores, waves of the water splashing and rippling from her little dip. Water leaks out from the opening along the roots of her wooden body as she lumbers out from the lakeside; her bright blue sclera eyes trailing over to the comatose orange girl left resting along the shore.

Hovering down over to the shores where he had tossed away his wooden adversary, Roy’s eyes widen when that very same foe holding his comatose sister by the shirt collar; Carila brandishing a blade of wood straight against Mally’s very neck. “Listen, I get how all the work stress ya got piled up made ya fall from grace hard as hell; but going so low as to take a hostage that can’t even fight back? Not a bad play there if I’m being honest; even if its a dirty one.” the merc briefly praises. “Don’t you dare lecture me on morality, not after all that I had experienced. I imagine that with what the memory root is showing this girl, she would more than agree on how justified this is. A justice with which fate has bestowed upon me after enduring countless years of haunting memories and infinite sadness. And now...you shall taste that very same despair!”

Right as the wooden woman was ready to thrust her wooden blade straight into the comatose girls body, a sudden sharp pain thrusts into her side; the pain enough to paralyze the wood woman from moving even a single root. Slowly she peers down to the side of her lower torso and discovers one of the girls arms piercing straight through her wooden body; the orange girls head rising from its slump to reveal the bright red pupils staring back at her. A sinister chuckle leaks out from her devilish grin as the girl’s body start to morph before her eyes, the roots attached to her head transforming into a pair of jet black horns. “You blind fool. Did you honestly believe we didn’t think this wouldn’t be the first thing that you would try?” the girl asks as she finally fully forms into the very demon that had accompanied the two. With but a single swift movement, Alex slides his razor sharp hand blade across the wooden warrior root body while slipping right out from her grasp; Carila effectively split diagonally as what remains of her upper body is sent careening back in a splatter of chlorophyll. In a sudden poof of black smoke does the demon return over to his mentor’s side, Alex’s smile remaining when fully expecting some form of praise for his performance. His prideful grin deflates when peeking over to the purple angel and finding him not even uttering a single word as he simply stares outward.

When hearing the sound of agonizing grunts and gnarls, Alex glances out to the very wood woman he had just finished slicing straight in half; left astonished when watching her pull what little was attached to her head off the ground. “Gotta give it to ya; pulling yourself back up after having most of yourself slashed off; color me impressed. Even a pornstar’s morning wood would have trouble keeping itself up after getting slashed, they’d be lucky enough to walk away with even a slightly functioning libido afterward. And yet, here you are, ready to erect herself out from your slump and willing to get back in the shoot. Bravo” the merc further compliments with a full blow applause. “Will my disgust of your horribly perverted mind ever cease?” the demon beside him comments.

A bout of lime green pukes out from the fallen wood warriors maw, commenting in between her breaths that: “So many millennia have passed...and nothing...nothing has changed...You still treat us as clay...patronizingly abuse and mock us…as if were nothing but meager toys you could mold to your sick whims...completely disregarding the fact that we had lives of our own...You’re nothing but a sick little fledgling!” “Hmph, whatever qualms you had against demon kind, your grudge was surely not worth the sorry state you’re left in.” Alex chimes in with. “This is far beyond any demons, you irritating little imp. If you wish behold a true monster, look to the man beside you. His very presence is nothing but a reminder of horrors not just countless others had to suffer.” the wood woman specifies, Alex gazing back to the purple angel standing beside him. “Um, mind being specific here? I gotta a mile long list of people I screwed over who want to rip out my testies.” Roy requests.

Carila coughs up little bits of chlorophyll that splatter along the grassy shoreline, taking in another before continuing to explain: “My kind had been plentiful and happy. More than willing to support the very world we had shared with others. All that changed when your kind...the Kybr had revealed themselves...countless worlds and the lives that inhabited them were torn asunder and changed into whatever demented forms they had desired them all to be; caring little of how much any creature in this universe was suffering under their omnipotence. Throughout the ages did the wood nymphs dwindle in number in the struggle against the Kybr, their blood mixing along the oceans of other creatures that had fought against them. Not even the most powerful of demon’s could stand against them. I was helpless to watch as my people had thinned to a meager handful, constantly fleeing from a threat nobody in this universe could even comprehend stopping. I could no longer look to that very grotto under the lake as the place of my birth. All it stands to be now is a graveyard where the last of my kin had faded away.”

The wood woman grunts out as she stands atop her severed upper torso, resuming her lament with: “And though the Kybr have vanished, the scars they had inflicted still remain upon the universe and those who reside within; wounds that prove far too severe for time itself to heal. This jungle, this slice of frozen time was all that the wood nymphs had left to them; one of the pieces of this universe left untouched by the Kybr. And so with nowhere left in this world to harbor, we were tasked to preserve this land....I didn’t ask for this. None of us had! My own mental scars ached the very moment I had laid my blue eyes upon your black wings; the display of power he had demonstrated against this harsh natural land was more then enough proof that you were indeed one of them...one of the Kybr. You claim me as a hypocrite, yet here you stand, demanding one hurt by your ancestors to recount the tails of trauma they had inflicted. You spill the blood of their fraternity and now this? You Kybr are the real monsters.”

Having fully sat through the crippled wood woman’s brief history lesson, both the angel and demon look upon her with pitiable contempt, the merc between them stating: “So all this was just a ploy for vengeance over people that are not here anymore? I mean I respect the dedication, at least.” “But it seems that you’re admirable ploy for such pointless revenge has run its course. A shame.” the demon beside him joins. “Oh, but my ploy is far from over.”

Upon the very next moment does a giant stomp between the duo and their fallen foe; both of them gazing up to find the foot belonging to a massive sauropod that lumbers into the lake beside them. Once the giant dinosaur passes by, Alex returns his eyes over to their front and discovers their thought to be beaten foe having vanished; the demon’s eyes peeking over to his purple mentor to find him still staring over to the sauropod. Returning his sites back to the dino in question, he shares in the site of the wooden woman fleeing atop the beasts very back; a small growl escaping as he readies to fly out in pursue. Without even so much as a word of warning does his purple teacher suddenly take off after their retreating foe; Alex left behind to cough up whatever dirt wafts through the air from the unexpected takeoff.

The dust finally settles, Mally coughing up what dirt had slipped into her mouth and uncovers her eyes to the scene set before her. She stands in the midst of vast army stretching out for miles on end, made from diverse and numerous mystical creatures, people, animals that marching together; limb and limb, hand in hand; all of them determined to face the threat all of the stare out to. Turning over to the direction the battalion marches does she see a brilliant gleaming like that shines upon them all, a warm glow filled with comfort and hope. Peering beyond the heavenly light does she then discover what manner of foe this entire battalion faces; a giant withered head with angel wings coming out from its mouth and flapping in the wind, all attached to a centipede like body sporting numerous eyes along its glimmering exoskeleton. All the numerous eyes that decorate this holy abomination slowly begin to open; a shinning glow pouring out from their pupils and glimmers upon all standing before it, making the entire army stop dead in their tracks. The young girl standing out among them all watches as the sheer determination that once radiated from the entire army crumbles away in but a single instance; every single creature that had marched out to the celestial being now kneeling upon their knee’s and bowing faithfully to the angel’s blinding glow.

This hope filled light starts to fade away and lets the orange skater view the world around her once more; Mally discovering herself standing among yet another army made from numerous magical creatures, mystical beings, and mighty deities. Peering out to the direction they face does she discovers the angelic monstrosity they stand against; a twisted and warped purple shape protruding out several heads of different creatures from its edges, with wings flapping out from these creature’s eye sockets. A deep purple mist exudes right out from the dozens of mouths that the angelic horror opens; all the demons, gods, animals, and people that stand together against this threat all are halted mere moments from attack as this mist blankets them all. Among the army’s stupor does the girl see all of their eyes glow out with the very same purple they breath in; their daze swiftly turning into absolute maddening fury; raging screams and horrified shrieks echo out from the entire battalion as anger and confusion overwhelm them all. Mally watches in utter terror as all these people that once stood together in the face of greater adversity were now violently ripping each other apart; bloody chunks and part flying across the air in the descending madness. The angelic horror pours out more of this maddening mist out from its numerous maws until the very air itself was consumed in raging violet.

Soon enough does this fog eventually lift, letting Mally come to see herself hovering along in the void of space; staring down upon the earth as thousands, if not, millions of holy abominations much like the two she had seen before hovering alongside their angelic humanoid counterparts, surrounding the very planets stratosphere and beyond. Beholding this is she forced past all the winged monsters, her site zooming in towards the center of South America and keeps closing in until she sees a golden tower that stretches from the ground to the shrouding dark clouds. Atop this golden tower was a massive halo that holds a strange space within; all the while beneath this ring stood numerous figures, one with orange horns with a flame in the middle, another the head of a skull surrounded by a cosmic aura, one bearing a crown of pure flames and three eyes, one with a tiara of ice crowned atop her head, another garbed in a cape of winds, and finally one donning a set of armor made from thick bedrock. The millions of holy monsters and human angels all start emerge out from the surrounding clouds, all of which approach the towers very top as the halo overhead starts to rapidly spin and pulse. Working underneath this very ring is a lone angel donned with wings of pure solid matter, typing across and adjusting numerous holographic panels; this lone man pressing one final button on the screen right as all of his fellow kin lunge forth. All the numerous celestial beings that surround them are all drawn straight into the space held within the ring; the halo’s reach extending out to all the angelic beings that surround the very planet as the earth glows brighter and brighter the more of them are absorbed.

Her entire vision engulfed in this glow, the intense light finally starts to fade away and letting Mally open her eyes once more; the orange skater rubbing her head and flakes pieces of root off her head as she sits up. Greeted with a much softer glow set among the darkness, she starts to crawl out from the gap and comes to find herself back out in the prehistoric open air; the echoes of the jungle’s wildlife ringing in her ears. This ain’t the grotto. Is this still...What the hell even happened in the time that root burrowed through my skull? As the young lass ponders weather her surroundings are reality or not, a rumbling explosion draws her attention out along the lands very edge; Mally immediately taking off towards the direction she heard the blast go off without even a moments hesitation.

Once having climbed up to the towering head of the sauropod, the wood woman digs her roots straight into its head and burrows right into its very brains; the dinosaur crying out and flailing before the parasite atop its head takes control. Forcing the dino’s head to peer back, Carila is alarmed to discover the very angel that she had cursed in hot pursuit; the wooden warrior thrusting the sauropods elongated neck straight out to the nearing merc in a desperate attempt to swat him away. Roy hovers right aside the dino’s thrusting head and slaps the beast hard enough to make it careen out from the lake waters and crash along the opposite shoreline; the lake waters trembling from the hefty impact. Gliding out to the lake shores himself, Roy lands right atop the fallen dinosaurs very head and peers down to the hole that she had burrowed into the poor thing; a trail of its blood leading straight into the forest edge. A sinister chuckle leaks out from the merc’s maw before he shouts into the woods: “Running like this ain’t gonna do you a lick of good. You’re the one that started this whole shitshow, you should at least have the theoretical vag eggs to take the consequences like a stiff bean cu-” Right upon the very instant does massive mess of wooden roots stretch out from the edge of the forest and envelope the angel’s entire body; pulling Roy further into the depths of the woods.

All the numerous roots tied around the purple angel’s body bash the boy into tree after thick prehistoric tree pulling him deeper through; some of the towering tree’s crashing down to the ground from the slamming impact. Once dragged far enough through the woods, all the roots that bind the purple angel’s body unravel and send the merc crashing right into the face of a towering cliff; chunks of the rock descending alongside him as Roy shakes off his daze just in time to witness his wooden foe lunge out from the forest with a freshly made body. When Carila thrusts her newly made splinter claws right out to the falling angel, Roy strafes aside the wooden warriors thrusting jab; her claws digging straight through the rocky cliff face as she slides down. Carila bounces right off the rocks and out to the receding purple angel; Roy holding up his only arm as the wooden woman feverishly lashes her thorny claws and smashes through the fallen boulders while furious screaming: “Die!...Die! Die! Die!” “Still can’t believe your using the old and tired “sins of the father” bullshit just to throw this little shit fit of yours. Least you could do is come up with a better excuse that doesn’t dump all your problems on somebody vaguely related to some assholes that screwed you over. You might as well just be pissing in the wind at that point.” “What the hell could a cretin like you possibly know, left utterly ignorant of your ancestors sins inflicted upon this very world, all the tormentous suffering that had echoed across the anneals of time to countless others thanks to them. What would you know of that pain, of watching all the people you hold dear die before you!?” Upon the wooden warriors questions of suffering does the merc’s smug grin suddenly shatter, the skin along his arm socket violently pulsating as he leaps right over one of the Carila’s swipes. Hovering right above the wood woman, Roy hammers his tightly clenched fist straight down onto her head and punches her straight down into the dirt; shouting back: “You think I wouldn’t know that pain!?” Carila’s crash down into the earth manages to leave a crater the size of a small home; Roy glaring down as what remained of his wooden foe worms down into the soil. A serene breath passes out from the merc’s mouth, putting aside his short lived anger like a briefly brandished weapon. Easy Roy. Don’t need to get worked up all at once. Just start digging this morning wood out from the ground and then we can starting beating on her.

Right as the merc readies to thrust his arm down into the dirt, the crater he stands upon suddenly erupts in an explosion of dirt and rubble; the intense force of which launching the angel back up into the prehistoric air. Once stopping in the middle of the air, the purple angel peeks back down to discover what looked to be a gigantic worm all made from numerous roots bursting from the soil and rising straight after the merc; Carila riding right atop the worm with fury in her blue sclera. Roy ascends up along the cliff face as the wood worm furiously gives chase, the ascent crumbling into rocky chunks as both of them head towards the top. Coming out from the cliffs ascent, the purple angel glides straight into the forest edge perched along the top; peering back to see the worm stopping just short of the woods and continues the chase on foot. Yet even as Roy stays a good distance away from the pursuing wooden warrior, Carila refuses to hold up on her relentless assault and start to shove her arms straight into the very tree’s she runs right past; uprooting them from the soil and tossing them out like thick, ivy covered spears. Seeing all the plucked out tree’s descend down towards him, Roy weaves out from all the treetops that slam down upon the jungle grounds; some of them even knocking down the surrounding tree’s upon the descent. Jeez, seems like this bitch’d tear through this whole damn forest before calling the whole thing quits. Course, it be a bit easy just to tear and blast her to pieces; but that sure ain’t no fun. Think something more ironic might be better thematically appropriate here, but how to go about that? Upon coming along the next part of the jungle does the purple angel sense his answer, a devilish grin creeping out from between his cheeks as he peers out along his left. Oh yeah, that’ll work beautifully.

Back out along the receding lakeside, the black horned demon stares down into the water as it reflects her feminine form; a low growl slipping out from between her teeth before she swats at her own image. Where does that purple low life get the nerve? Ignoring his his own pupil and leaving them behind on the shores of a prehistoric lake. He should know better than this, dammit. Don’t say that he’s still upset of our last conversation? You’d think somebody with such grizzly professions would be more thick skinned than to be affect by something so harmless as words. How foolish.

On these very thoughts, the demon’s ears catch something rustling behind him; Alex quickly pulling herself up and turning out to the forest edge to find the bushes quivering. Her alarm dies down when witnessing none other than his mentor’s sibling emerge out from the green; stating: “Oh, its only you.” “A-Alex? Is- is this another...Is that you?” Mally utters. “Oh I don’t know, has that rancid branch that bore into her head deprived her of what sense you had?” “Okay, yeah, this is real.”

Strolling over to the demon’s side, the orange skater peers out to the vast lake before them while questioning: “So, where’s Roy.” “Hmph, that depraved brother of yours is off somewhere in combat with that wooden harlot after she attempt to drown us all.” “Ke-I-what...Agh...I’m out for about an hour and I miss all this. Though after everything that root wound up showing me, I shouldn’t be surprised things went downhill like this. We need to find them before it gets worse.” “Why should we? He doesn’t seem so eager to so much as speak to me, let alone fight by my side. Pretty rude if we’re being honest. Why should I humble myself to go crawling back to him?” Alex refuses with arms crossed. “Jeez, starting to see why he just up and ditched ya.” “What are blathering about?” “Did you seriously expect him to just leave off like nothing ever happened after you deliberately trash talking him about the beef with his ex?” Mally asks him, fully turning over to the demon. “Well, guess that should be the turnabout to it all, should it? If he’s so eager to jest of my demeanor; then he should be prepared to face the same sort of judgment. And from all those rumors said what had happened; its no wonder that she dumped him.”

Seeing her demonic partners make this last statement with a smug grin prompts the orange skater to slowly start stroll closer towards her; remaining silent as her fist clenching tighter the closer she nears. Once standing right beside the black horned demon, Mally roughly grasps Alex by the throat and pulls her closer; the skater swinging her fist hard enough into her jawline to splash her down into the shallow lake water. Pulling herself right out from the shallow end, Alex starts to cough up bits of water as she rubs the part of her chin that was struck; glaring up to the skater with: “What the hell is your-” Before Alex could so much as utter another word, Mally grasps the demon’s shirt collar and pulls her face to face; drips of sweat running down the demon’s head as she stares upon the skater blood red glare. “Did you not think that black horned head of yours that he said all that to you to try and help you, to try and break down the raw reality of how you treat people like they’re nothing just to try and change your sad, sorry situation. Cause if there’s one thing that my bro’s on the mark with, its that you no one likes you; and you saying shit like that is exactly why. You just treat everyone around you like your better than them, like barely anybody you know is worth your precious time. You think that’s the reason why everyone stays away from you?”

The demon’s face sours upon the girl’s enraged ranting; Alex growling back: “Like hell you know what people are really like around me, the way they all stare as if they’re very eyes say that I don’t belong with them. You wouldn’t dare say all this to me if you could see the scorns they’d give as far back as preschool.” Suddenly does Mally lay down a nasty headbutt right upon the demon’s face, one that makes Alex splash back down into the shallow shores; her node blood floating through the lake water as the skaters shadow looms over her. “You think that excuse is gonna come even close to working here? I knows somebody who has the same sort of copy paste sob story of being rejected cause of the way they look; somebody who could’ve just as well wound up being just as much of a bitter prick as you’re being. But she didn’t. She kept going and kept her chin up despite all the names, all the scorn, all the mockery. And thanks to that, she wound up having people that cared about her by her side, ready to throw down life and limb at the drop of a hat for her if ever need; and they’d sure as hell know she would do the same for all of them.”

Clutching the wet demon’s shirt collar once more, Mally drags Alex right out from the lakeside and has her stand right on the solid shores behind them; keeping her enraged glare upon the demon as she claims how: “Now you’re gonna go out and make up for the inexcusable shit that you said to Roy; or so help me god, I’m going to take you by the horns and drag your sorry ass out to him so I can shove my fist down your bunghole far enough to make you puppet out an apology. Do you understand me?” Among Alex mix of borderline fright and questionable arousal, Alex calms herself and states that: “Fine. But I’m going out of my own volition.” Saying this does the demon start to hover out to where her purple mentor had flown out to, all while the skater follows behind with her hockey stick brandished.

Perched along the branches of the prehistoric tree’s, several exotic birds that once called these woods their natural homes flutter away in terror as a streak of purple and black zoom right past; the tree’s that they once inhabited soon absorbed within a slithering mass of roots and bark that pursues after. While swerving around the dozens of towering jungle tree’s, the purple angel peers back to the mess of gathered wood that chases after his hide and finds his wooden foe riding atop the mass; her upper half sinking into the mass as she feverishly pursues after. Yeah, that’s it girl. Keep that raging hate boner up chasing after this sweet ass. Your gonna find out in a sec that this tail’s way too tasty for your own good.

Soon enough does Roy manages to glide right out from the depths of the forest and starts to descend down into a small valley clearing; the merc peering back to witness Carila leap right out from the woods, rocking a gigantic body cobbled together with dozens of jungle wood. While the two race through the valley field, Roy takes the time to peer back to the wooden woman feverishly chasing after and further demeans: “Ya know, I’m beginning to wonder when exactly all this pent up hatred and rage made ya loose yer head. Course, its another question to ask weather you had a mind in the first place underneath that mess of aging roots that you unfortunately gotta call a noggin.” Rather then attempting to respond back with words of her own, Carila instead lets out a monstrous screech as she leaps up through the air; her heavyweight body plummeting down towards the merc like a tumbling tree. The purple angel weaves right out from the wooden warriors plunge, her massive body crashing back upon the earth with a trembling quake; strands of white and yellow goo splattering along her feet the moment she stomps down.

Her blue sclera locked right upon the purple merc, she witnesses him retreat out to the side of a towering rock cluster; Carila wasting not another moment to lumber out towards her target. Roy rises right out from the wood giants tackle upon the last moment and makes her crash right into the rocks; countless boulders break off as the cluster crumbles to pieces, a couple of other strange boulders falling over and breaking apart into yellow goop. Carila keeps her killer glare onto the angel as Roy hovers high above and lands right atop a towering jungle tree sitting right in the middle of the valley; the merc sticking his tongue out while nonchalantly flipping her the bird. The wood woman stretches out her massive log of an arm right out to the very tree that her foe is perched on, plunging her roots straight into the tree’s very wood. The towering tree within her grasp, Carila uproots it straight out of the soil and flings the merc right off; several oval rocks falling off the branches as she continues to flail the massive jungle tree about. “Why won’t you die already!?” the shrieks whilst continuing to violently swing out to the fleeting angel. Straight into a cliff face, sweeping out through the meadow, and down upon uphill ascent of an incline; Carila slams the tree into wherever in her efforts to strike the purple merc out from the sky; Roy continuing to simply evade her flailing without so much as counterattacking himself.

Eventually does one of the wood nymphs aimless swings actually manage to swat the angel out of the air, sending the merc straight down in the middle of an enclosed cliiffside. An unhinged laugh escapes from the nymph as Roy pries himself off the soil; Carila’s blue sclera locked as she finally corners the merc. “Not once in the thousands of years I had been cursed to remain down in this slice of frozen time did I ever this this chance would grace me. But it shall be all worth it for avenging my ancestors that had suffered at the hands of you Kybr; forcing us all to hide down in this hellhole until our inevitable extinction.” “Funny as hell for you of all people to brag about taking vengeance. Just hope your ready to have those same words spewed right back in yer face.” Roy warns her.

These words of warning spoken do both of them hear an enraged roar ring out from above, the wooden warrior glaring up to the top of the cliff to witness a vicious T-rex start dropping down; the dinosaur descending down onto the wooden giant and digging its sharp teeth straight into her shoulder. Carila tumbles back as she attempts to pry the dino right off her as a triceratops charges in, ramming right into the guardians shin and knocking her down upon her back. The very moment she tumbles down into the ground does a pterodactyl swoop down and try to dig its claws straight into the wood woman’s tiny head; a whole pack of velociraptors joining in and clinging to part of her wooden body as she struggles against all the furious dinosaurs piling onto her. “Why!? Why are you all- Why is this happening!?” the guardian yelps out among the chaos.

The giant wood woman hears a devious laugh sound out alongside the growling dinosaurs, her head peering up to see the laughter coming from the purple angel as he hovers above; further berating her as she’s being torn apart at the seems. “Can’t believe you seriously call yourself a guardian of these parts. You’ve been on the job for serious how long now, and you were so occupied with wanking off your hate boner that ya didn’t realize where I lead ya to.” Curious of what the merc was prattling on about, Carila peers out around the very valley she had just thrashed about in. Absolute horror crawling through her as she finally discovers all the broken eggs that litter the ground, their shells and yolk splattered and scattered along the grassy plains. “You’ve been calling me a monster this whole time, all for a bunch of shit people related to me did a long while ago. And yet look at what you just did now. You were so busy trying to stamp me out that you wound up screwing over all these poor dino motherfuckers. Guess’s it might not be worthwhile if that kinda reach around prankster bull ain’t poetically catharsis.” The angel taunting words finally break the last bit of sanity holding the wood woman together, a maddening cry echoing out from her maw as all the roots that make up her body pierce through the dozens of dinosaurs that once tore her flesh apart.

Along the valley’s edge do both Alex and Mally emerge out from the forest in time to behold the wooden behemoth draw in the numerous scaly beasts within her own body; the dinosaurs crying out in agony as the wood nymphs roots tear their flesh and consume their very forms. Peering away from the agonizing site to find her purple brother hovering overhead, left utterly mesmerized by the grotesque scene playing out under him. “Shit man...” “Roy!” he hears his sister call out to him with.

The purple angel parts his eyes away from wretched site and gazes down to discover both her and his pupils approaching; Roy himself fluttering down to greet them back with: “Welcome back to reality, Mal. The hell sort of trippy sites did ya see while that root was digging in your brains?” “I...I’m not even sure I can put what all I saw into comprehensible words. But I can definitely say that whatever the Kybr were, friendly sure as hell is the furthest words away from them. I practically saw them all tear apart worlds and people effortlessly before my eyes.” the orange skater describes. “Wait a moment. Are you saying that irritating splinter woman’s venomous words towards your perverted brother hold some modicum of truth?” the demon questions. “Yep. Terrible stuff.”

“And speaking of mistakes, I think that Alex’s has something she wants’ta say to ya, Roy.” Mally segues to. “That true?” Roy asks, his purple eyes locked to the demonic girl. After transforming herself into a boy, Alex coughs a little bit before taking in a deep breath and going: “I-Indeed I do. For you see, underneath my awe aspiring complex personality; I am in fact capable of humbleness. And I dare slaughter anyone that says otherwise… My point is that humility allows me to perceive some ill made mistakes I have made; specifically making mention of your most recent relationship affairs as a crutch to counterargument. Such behavior was out of line for me. I’m starting to understand why those around me might react when taking aim for a more personal target. And for such an undeserved low blow; I must sincerely ap-..apo-…apollll...apolooo...ap...apooolllo...” Amidst the demons’s attempt to apologize, his mentor takes a gentle grasp upon his shoulder and gives a grin while responding: “Eh, I can probably take that crappy attempt of a sorry. Sound like I finally broke through to ya on that shit.” “Yes, well...best savor that. Don’t expect me to lower myself to such levels again.” Seeing the two make up brings out a warm smile across Mally’s cheeks a moment that’s promptly interrupted when a trembling squeal screeches before them all.

The trio glancing back towards the ongoing scene and come to watch as their wooden foe rises upon her feet, the countless dinosaurs that had once attempted to rend her to pieces now sown into her very roots; the head of the tyrannosaurus stuck to end of her right arm while the head of the triceratops is stuck to her left. The dozens of velociraptors decorated across her torso. “My duty doesn’t matter anymore; it never did in the end. Attempting to safeguard that which the Kybr had destroyed, it was nothing but a fruitless endeavor to falsify a purpose; one that I attempted to engrave in my fateless life for the sake of those long past. But now, a new road stretches out before me, one to prevent those like me to spawn in this world with such predetermined scars; ones that ache with a cold and empty loneliness and yearning for others that will never come to pass. And the first step upon that path is with the Kybr’s true extinction!” Upon those very words do all the dinosaurs trapped within her body all roar out at once; their outcries ringing across the entire prehistoric jungle.

“Oh yeah. Kind forgot about that. Probably should just blasted her to bits while she was turning, huh. Still, hearing Alex let out hilarious attempt of an apology might’ve been worth it.” the purple angel claims. “A rather careless mistake if you ask me; should’ve just ended her quite long ago. But this laughable error matters little in the end. No matter what grotesque form this worthless wood woman takes, its doubtful it would be nowhere near enough to stand up against the might of me and my constituents.” the black horned demon adds. “Couldn’t have said it better myself.” “Glad to see things are finally back on track.” the orange skater among them states; the trio taking their stance against the behemoth of wood and dinosaur flesh.

The horrible amalgamation of jungle wood and dinosaur flesh suddenly lunges forth, thrusting its T-rex limb and opening its jaw wide as its maw races to the three. The trio split apart before the head of the beast could sink its teeth into them all, with Roy leaping right back into the fray after which and kicking the head of the dino right in the cheek; the purple angel’s kick strong enough to make the entire giant tumble aside. As the wooden behemoth continues stumbling back, a lone yo yo twirls around the very same arm and wraps the T-rex head within its reinforced steel string; the string pulling back and keeping Carila front regaining her balance. Peering back does the wooden warrior discover that very string belonging to the orange skater, Mally single handedly keeping the amalgamation of wood and beast from standing on her own two feet. Its in that moment that the wooden woman hears the air above her let out a distinctive poof, the head of the giant gazing up to discover the black horned demon plunging down upon her with his hand taking the form of an axe. Alex slams his transformed axe hand down onto the wood girl’s neck, the impact however not being enough to make a clean cut; the demon’s weapon only getting through about a tenth of their foe’s thick neck. Before the demon could take another swing at her neck, Carila swats the imp away with her other free arm; this very action causing the giant body to finally fall onto the earth with a trembling quake. With the chimera of wood and flesh having crashed on her backside, the purple angel ascends the air above the fallen giant and holds his only arm up in the air; a sphere of purple and black cultivating in the palm of his hand. As the angel above her prepares his assault, Carila glances over to her arm to find the skaters string still wrapped around the head of the T-rex; a sinister smile cracking between her cheeks before she starts to pick herself off the ground. Rising right off the ground, the jungle wood giant thrust her arm straight upwards and flings the orange girl that had held her back up towards the purple angel; Roy discarding his ball of purple and black to catch his sister with but his only limb. “Dammit!”

With but a single hand, the merc manages to grasp his orange sibling before she could be flung right out into the jungle; Roy keeping Mally in his hand as the giant above continues to pull its heavyweight body off the ground. “Kay, we might need a plan here. How bout pulling out one of those strats of yours out, eh Mal?” “I ain’t too sure. Alot of them won’t be as effective with our blue brother AFK.” “Let’s just cobble one together instead. This 20 ton of morning wood is practically on high alert for anything I do.” “She didn’t exactly see Alex coming though. He got a good chop onto her neck before he was swatted away.” Mally gazes out behind the rising giant and discovers their demonic third gliding out from the depths of the woods, sweeping away whatever leaves and branches wound up on him. “I think that might just be our winning ticket. Fling me out.” the skater requests. “Uh, kay.” When her brother tosses her up into the air, Mally stiffens her entire figure before landing right back in Roy’s palm; the merc holding his sister like an Olympic javelin thrower as he asks: “Where at?” “Aim for the head.”

Just as his orange sister instructs him to, the purple angel lobs Mally straight towards the very head of the giant of wood and flesh like a throwing spear; the skater flipping herself feet first as she streaks through the air like a missile. Though Carila attempts to lift her triceratops head to block the oncoming lass, its weight simply proves far too much of a hindrance to lift up in time; the wood woman able to little but brace for impact as the orange skater harshly stamps her feet straight into the behemoth’s tiny face The wooden giant reels back as Mally leaps right behind the amalgamation and out to the approaching demon; Alex’s pupils shrinking when peering up and discovering the skater descending down towards him. “Grab me! Grab me! Grab me! Grab me! Grab me! Grab me!” the skater screams while plummeting down. Any attempts to catch the girl dropping down towards her are forsaken right then and there when the black horned demon disappears in a puff of smoke; Mally dive bombing straight through the cloud and violently crashing down into the dirt below. Alex reappears a few feet beside as the orange skater plucks her upper half right out from the soil, shaking the dirt out of her hair before sarcastically thanking the demon with: “Gee Alex, sure appreciating ya catching me in the air like that. Sure saved my hide from crashing down into the dirt face first!” “I’m honestly at a lost on what exactly you were expecting me to do with you bombing down to me at breakneck speeds.” Alex earnestly questions. “Well, can I at least expect ya to listen to a little plan I got going on in the deep fryer?”

Freshly recovering from the orange girls harsh stomp, the behemoth again charges out to the purple merc that hovers before her, thrusting the open jaws of her T-rex head towards the angel to try and take a bite out of his purple hide. Roy strafes right aside the dinosaur heads clamping teeth and darts straight to the giants chest to attempt to counterattack, ready to deliver a punch right through the sternum. Just before the merc could even touch a single root of the wooden giant, Carila’s chest suddenly burst open before him and unleashes an entire gaggle of velociraptors; all of the mule sized motherfuckers lunging out from the depths of the wood woman and biting down on the angel. “Gah!” Right as one of them was on the verge of piercing through the skin, Roy acts fast and casts a beam of dark and purple down upon where they spawned; effectively forcing all of them to retreat as the giant herself stumbles back. Once free from the numerous dinosaur jaws, Roy fires out another ray up towards the gigantic amalgamation’s head; the wood woman raising the shield like head of the triceratops; the beast moaning out in pain as its forced to take the blast literally head on. Having blocked the angel’s beam, Carila suddenly charges towards the purple merc while keeping the triceratops head up; Roy gliding back as the giant of wood and flesh readies to slam the head right into him.

Distracted from her feverish pursuit after the Kybr, the wood woman then and there feels something land atop her head and hook into the wood woman’s bright blue sclera; Carila letting out a horrible shriek as the hook digs further into her eye socket. Gazing up amidst her painful agony, the giant discovers the black horned demon perched atop her relatively sized noggin and shoving his transformed hook hand deep down into her eye; Alex wearing a deliciously sinister smile as he keeps holds onto his wooden foe’s head. “You-!” Just when she attempts to reach over and pry the demon off her, Mally leaps right onto the top of her arm and casts her grapple yo to the T-rex head stuck to the end; leaping off as its string wraps around scaly beasts upper jaw. Landing back onto the ground, the orange skater wrangles the massive tyrannosaurus head; the beast struggling to free itself as Mally keeps the beast bound. “Go for it, Roy!” she shouts to her purple brother. Both of his teammates keeping the giant mess of roots and dino flesh, Roy swoops back in the fray and takes hold of one of the triceratops’ horns before lifting the entire behemoth up towards the crystal coated ceiling.

The orange haired skater and demon release the giant from their grasps as the angel continues to drag the wooden giant straight towards the glowing roof of the prehistoric cavern. Once close enough to the shinning crystals above, Roy heaves the behemoth of roots and flesh skywards; Carila’s massive body crashing right into sharp glowing rocks hard enough to cause the entire roof to tremble. Alongside chunks of the glowing crystal and stone, the behemoth starts to plummet back down towards the prehistoric earth; Roy ordering his pupils to: “Finish it!” The demon is more than happy to obey his mentors command and lunges out towards the falling giant at breakneck speeds, clasping both of his hands together and forming them into the head of a giant axe. Closing in towards the very head of their wooden foe, Alex swings the edge of his weapons to the wooden warrior as she opens her maw wide; the demon only able to cut about 6/10th’s through the giants thick neck before suddenly feeling an overwhelming pain surge within his stomach. Roy and Mally gaze upon the site in a horrifying blend of alarming terror and utter dread; beholding a single straight root that had erupted from their foe’s mouth and pierced straight through Alex’s body.

The very silhouette of the root piercing straight through his pupil’s stomach causes his vision to fade in purple; the shadows of the site transforming into a pair of shadowy winged figures, one of which driving a sword through the other’s chest in a haunting similar manner. Bouts of purple liquid spurt out from the stabbed figures mouth as it slowly tilts its head towards Roy, its eyes reflecting despair and dread as it leaks out tears of violet. The very image pulled from the boy’s demented mind is swiftly overcome by a creeping darkness that stems from these figures and consumes Roy’s whole vision; the angel plummeting down to the earth as the socket his left arm once was start violently pulse.

The giant of wood and flesh finally crash back down in the once pristine valley, the dust swiftly settling to reveal Alex remaining utterly limp while dangling unto the very pike that pierces his body. “You nasty little devil...” Carila sighs. The wooden warrior’s arm staggers as she lifts the head of the Tyrannosaurs rex up to the impaled demon; the dinosaurs teeth glistening as its starts to open its drooling maw. “You’ve caused me enough trouble.” The T-rex’s mouth just inches away from the black horned boy, a streak of orange zooms through and breaks the demon off the wood woman’s pike just seconds as she bites down; Carila peeking over towards the same direction to discover the orange girl swinging away with the boy on her shoulder. While Mally flees out towards the jungle’s edge, she peers back to find the giant refusing to pursue as the wooden behemoth rises off the floor to instead face the purple angel; her brother continuing to struggle and tremble as he remains kneeling on the ground. Come on, Roy. Don’t quit now.

The merc breath shakes as he trembles onto the floor; the giant that he had once tossed aside now towers over him, with her very shadow looming over the young angel. “Do you feel it yet, Kybr? That is the very same horror and despair that your ancestors had inflicted upon not just me, but all the wood nymphs that had suffered under your power. Unlike those wretched monsters however, I take no joy in watching you suffer from your loss. Be grateful, young Kybr, for you shall join your demonic ally in his passing very soon.” the giant states, staggering her tyrannosaurus hand down to the trembling angel. “This day shall be remembered. The day the last of the Kybr are snuffed out from this worlds existence.” The tyrannosaurus’ close in on the kneeling merc, ready to tear apart the angel with its sharp killer teeth at any moment; its hungering breath waft upon the boy’s entire body.

The very moment the teeth of the beast were on the verge of clasp down upon him, the purple angel finally rises off the valley grass as the stitches along his arm tear off; the Tyrannosaurs rex’s assault suddenly thwarted when strands of pure black puncture through the dinosaurs head. Carila watches as these newfound strings push their way from the head of the T-rex and weave themselves across the cracks and crevices of her gigantic arm; the wooden warrior gazing down along her limb and discovering the very source of these strands. From the angel’s missing arm socket do dozens of these black tendrils wriggle out from the depths of his body; drips of the merc’s blood trickling down his torso and staining the grass beneath his feet. Though the amalgamation of jungle wood and dinosaur flesh attempts to jerk her arm away from the angel standing before her, the numerous strands of black enveloping her arm refuse to free her from their grasp; Roy lifting his head up and staring to her with his eyes glowing a sinister shade of violet. A single jerk back is all it takes for Roy to rip the gigantic log that was his foes arm straight off the rest of the giant’s body; Carila tumbling back to the edge of the small valley and falling upon the face of a rocky cliffside. Out from the fall does the wooden woman gaze back towards the violet angel, watching as the Tyrannosaurs rex and all the other tree that made up her severed limb are covered in more and more of these black lines until the fully envelope the limb; all of it swiftly devoured until being reduced to nothing underneath the shadowy mass.

As the giant wooden woman slowly pulls herself up along the cliffside, she keeps her eyes locked to the angel as he starts to hover out to her with his tendrils of pure black squirming like a mass of raging worms. “You think you’re the only one who can regrow their limbs?” she remarks. Though the giant reaches her only arm up to the forest above the cliff, not a single roots starts to stretch itself up towards the top no matter how hard she reaches. “Why...won’t...my arm...My neck!” Glancing down along the edge of her neckline, she finds the veins that run along the side of it now left severed and disconnected; a seething growl escaping from her mouth as she curses out: “That little bastard!” Its in that moment that the angel’s strands of black all wrap around the wooden behemoths massive log of a leg and tear off the entire limb in but an instant; some of the velociraptors that were once trapped within Carila’s body scrambling away through the valley.

Left desperate to end the angel that hovers before her, the wood guardian leaps into the air with but her remaining leg and hammers the head of the triceratops down upon him; the entire jungle trembling from the incredible impact. A moment of silence passes among the small valley, the giant letting a breath escape as she assumes the fight to be over. Alas does she swiftly retract that same breath as she begin to feel her entire arm quake; the head of the triceratops slowly forced back up by the dozens of the violet angel’s stands of pure black. “No...No!” Carila screeches; shoving her arm down towards the earth. Before the giant could crush the angel under her weight, a great surge of purple and dark blasts out from underneath the head of the triceratops; the pulse launching the giant of wood and flesh right off Roy. The ground beneath the behemoth cracks as she crash back down; Carila peers up from beyond her body to witness all the merc’s tendrils lunge out towards her; their ends transforming sets of deadly sharp teeth that open their maws as they close in.

All the maw made from the dark mass sink their chompers down into the giants very roots and begin to rip and tear apart the wooden guardians gigantic body; stains of chlorophyll and bits of red splattering across the valley grass as Carila struggles and flails under them all. When attempting to smack all the mouths of dark away with her other arm, she finds the beast itself missing from the end of her limb; the triceratops once trapped among her roots fleeing out in the jungle. All of her options to retaliate dwindling at the very seems, Carila decides to just simply cut her losses and makes a small branch protrude out from the side of her head; the wood woman pushing up from her shoulder and pulling her head off her giant bodies neck. Once freeing herself from the roots of her own body, the wooden warriors head leaps away before a set of black teeth could clamp down upon her head; Carila feverishly racing away from the scene and out towards the forest edge. The violet angel lets all the black strands that had emerged from his arm socket quickly finish devouring what remained of his foe’s abandoned corpse; and though silent, Roy keeping his enraged glare locked to the head as she pathetically flees.

Once getting far enough away from the action, Mally hops down from the tree branches and lands along the jungle floor with the wounded demon in her arms; the orange skater gently setting Alex along his side. The black horned demon lets out a retching groan as he squirms on the soft grass, the girl stating for him to: “Take it easy, Alex. Y-You’re gonna be fine.” “That fucking wooden plank of a nymph! I refuse to be left down by such a dastardly surprise assault!” the demon growls aloud, grasping the pike left stuck within his stomach. Before the demon could even start to pull the piece of root out from himself, Mally grabs hold of his arm and warns: “Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! We can’t just pull that outta ya yet, we don’t got anything to patch it up with.” “Then what do you suggest we do?” “I-I don’t-” A brief breath escapes from the orange skater as she peers up to the roof of the prehistoric cavern; reviewing how: “Even if we could get back up to the surface, the nearest hospital’s probably miles away. Maybe we can...No...Ah...”

In the midst of breathing through the uninterrupted pain surging through his stomach, a strange scent greets the demon’s nose between his breaths; Alex taking a deeper smell of the air before concluding: “Is...is that me?” “Dammit Alex, can you stop thinkin about your self image for one bleeding second and worry about the literal hole in your stomach!?” “No, you rambunctious git! I can smell more of myself, more of me than their should be.” “Is all the bleeding making you hallucinate already, or are you just screwing with me? Cause at this point, it seems like either or.” The skater watches as Alex struggles to pick himself off the jungle grass and starts dragging himself across the floor; the demon heaving himself out towards the direction they’d just came from. “This...this could be just what I need.” he claims aloud. “What the hell are you on about?” the girl standing beside her questions. “This newfound darkness that permeates the air. If I can find and consume it, then it may be enough to patch up this pathetic wound I’m being forced to endure.” “And you’re sure about that?” “I’ve never been so sure in my entire life.” Upon those very words does the demon then feel something sweep him right off the rough jungle floor; Alex gazing up to find himself carried within the orange skaters arms. “Right, just lead the way.” Mally request as she starts to jog back. Gently caressed by the skaters firm, but soft arms, Alex reactively transforms into a girl as a bit of blush glows along her cheeks; the demon shaking this off to peer out to the woods ahead.

Feverishly dragging what remains of herself along the grassy valley, the wood woman’s fearful gaze begins turning into a hopeful smile the closer she nears the forest edge; Carila just a couple more feet away from her only salvation out from the brink of her demise. But just when she was ready to reach her arms out to one of the towering jungle tree, her hopeful grin shatters on the spot when feeling something grasp the back of her head and haul her away from salvation. “No! No! No! No!” she screams out as the dozens of black strands all jerk her back through the valley plains; the tendrils swiftly tossing her remains through the prehistoric air. Her careen through the valley air comes to a sudden end when caught by the purple angel’s actual arm, with the merc grip tightening as he clutches the head by the eyes. The wood woman hopelessly struggles as visible cracks start to form around her very head; the base of her neck falling apart as the fractures worsen.

Moments from snuffing out what remained of the once proud guardian, Roy stops tightening his grasps when hearing the head let out a wheezing chuckle; Carila proclaiming with a weak smile: “So you finally embrace it, do you?...You’ve decided to finish what your ancestors had started so long ago...It’s not surprising, not even a smidgen. Snuffing out the future of a species that your people had dwindled to near nonexistence; you’ll be no better than them in the end.” “Ya know...” Upon these very words does the purple angel resume squeezing the head of his foe in his iron grasp, Carila’s face contorting into sheer agony until finally breaking into chunks of withered roots; the wood woman’s remains scattering along the valley grass. “I can live with that.” Feeling something left within his grasp, the purple merc opens his palms and discovers something peculiar leftover from her demise; a set of strange seeds now resting in the palm of his hand, decorated with a bright blue circle along the middle. Hmm…

Among pondering what to do with the leftovers of his foe does he then sense both his sister and his pupil on the approach; Roy dunking the seeds down into his pants pocket as Mally lands behind him. Once gently setting the wounded demon down upon the gentle valley grass, a stark shock is reflected through the orange skater’s eyes as she peers up to discover all the waving black strands along her brother’s side; stuttering out: “R-roy?...Wh-what the hell are all those things?” “Why’d you come back?” he asks her. “Uh, well. Alex wanted to-”

Midst attempting to explain themselves, the black horned demon herself slowly arises from the valley earth while grasping the pike left lodged in his stomach. In just a single swift pull does Alex uproot the sharp spike straight out from her body in a splatter of black and red; an action of which catches both Mally and her brother completely off guard. “Give it to me...Give them to me!” she shrieks before lunging over to the dozens of strands stemming from the merc’s side. Both the merc and skater remain utterly astonished as the demon sinks her teeth into these black tendrils and tear them right off their stems; Alex slurping them all down like an Italian dish. While watching the demon continue to consume the numerous strands from her brother’s side, Mally’s attention is drawn over to the open wound left along Alex’s stomach; a thick black goop dripping out from within the demon’s body and filling the hole, all until the terrible wound that she had suffered from moments ago disappears.

A heafty sigh escapes from Alex as she leans away from the tendrils she had spared; claiming with euphoric calm how: “Ahh. Finally, that horrible pain has ceased.” “Alex...the fuck happened?” her mentor obviously questions. After pulling herself off the valley grass, the demon clears her throat before explaining: “Is it not obvious to you yet? All those black strand that had erupted from you’re arm socket, their very same substance is what makes up my biological makeup; tis why consuming them dressed my wound so efficiently.” “So this stuff coming out of his arm is some sort of demon goo?” the orange skater behind her asks. “To be less moronically blunt then that, this substance is one the feeds of negative emotion. I can only imagine something that this purple pervert thought off had awoken it from its slumber.” “So this stuff is a part of you. So can I...” Upon pondering of something, the merc begins to concentrate while keeping his eyes locked to the dozens of strands. All these dozens of black lines start to form together under the merc’s very command, forming straight from his arm socket and growing to match the exact length of his other arm; leaving five strands out along the end to form the fingers and thumb. Beholding the results of his concentration, Roy thrust his fresh new arm of pure black into the air as he cheers out: “Hell yeah. Got me a fresh new arm, bitches! I’m ready to belt people across the ass and make em scream out for more...Wonder what jacking it with this must feel like?” “Hmph. I’d normally be quite upset from this newfound development. The fact that you happen to sprouts a fresh new limb that happens to be made from the same biological material I am. But seeing how it had bloomed at such a convenient time, I suppose it’s something I can overlook. Consider it a gift then, for your gracious and surprisingly effective training.” A warm smile stretches across the angel’s cheeks when hearing his pupil state such, responding to the gesture with: “He he he. That ain’t the only gift that’s being given out today. I got something for ya that you’ll love.” “Oh, a present for me? You shouldn’t have; but please go on, don’t let me stop you.” the demon tells him with a grin.

Roy approaches the young demon before kneeling down to her very level; putting his hands upon her shoulders and simply stating to her that: “You pass.” From these very words does Alex’s grin suddenly break apart at the seems; the demon uttering: “P-Pardon?” “Congrats, kid. You graduated from your training, all with flying colors too. You’ve gotten over your smug demeanor and finally shown some actual growth and maturity while under my wing. I’m absolutely certain now that whatever this harsh existence that we have deemed to be life has to blindside ya around the corner with, you got enough in ya to take from their hands and shove it straight back down their damn throat.” “So...I won’t have to drag myself to your training sessions?” the demon softly asks. “Yep, you your own demon now.” “Uh...Well, that’s...quite the relief. All those regimen were beginning to grind through my life.” she responds with half hearted faux smug.

“Hey, uh, hate to bring down this his precious moment of euphoric conclusion of character growth, but I got a hell of a bombshell to drop here.” Mally cuts in with. “If it ain’t aimed at the Ukraine, the fire away.” her brother requests. “That memory root made me see a lot of things that Kybr had done in their time; none of it being remotely good. I’ve seen them change and transform so many lands and homes by just the wave of their hand; uncaring of how many people they kill, lives they ruin, or how many they driven to utter extinction.” “Eesh. Really that bad.” “So much worse than you think. And the cherry on top of this impending nightmarish sundae is that I had a horrible realization. Tore’s been out there helping somebody that wants to release them all back into the world.” “But we still don’t have a single clue where he might be.” “I think I might know where. But if we don’t hurry back up to the surface and out to them, then we’re gonna have a hell of a lot more problems that nobody can ever prepare themselves for.”

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

As so, the truth behind the Kybr and their past has finally been revealed to Mally and her friends, but can she relay this newfound knowledge to her brother in time before those how had once terrorized the universe could be freed? Find out on the season finale of Young hope.

[breathinginthevapor]

Wasteland, Baby

Summary: A drunk girl falls into Tom’s lap at party, and little does he know, he’s in for an adventure.

A/N: Aaalright, finally it’s here! It’s the first part of a short series I’m planning (the title might change) and my contribution to @neverlandparker​ and @fairytaleparker​‘s Disney writing challenge - I’m so so sorry that this isn’t very Disney, so if you don’t want me to be a part of the challenge, i completely understand! The prompt was “Adventure is out there”. 

Word count: 4500+

T/W: Tom not thinking the reader’s pretty (sorry guys, promise it’ll change), alcohol 

Masterlist

Tom doesn’t know how he wound up at this party in the first place. Harrison somehow managed to sweet talk him into going, but he can’t remember what he said, let alone why or when he disappeared and left Tom with a bunch of people he doesn’t know. 

Usually, being left alone at a party would be fine, because Tom likes meeting new people and being the centre of attention, but he’s been working non-stop for what seems like an eternity, and he would much rather watch a movie with Tessa than be surrounded by strangers. 

He sighs and grabs his phone from the back pocket of his black jeans, writing a text to Harrison to let him know he’s going home. However, he doesn’t get to finish the message before his phone is pushed out of his hand by a drunk girl falling, unfortunately literally, into his lap, spilling her drink all over his chest. 

“Ooops,” she giggles, trying to get up, but to no luck. 

“I’m a really annoying drunk, soorryy.”

At least she’s self-aware.

He grabs her and pulls her off him, sitting her down beside him on the sofa, and perhaps he’s a bit too harsh, but he just really wants to find his phone, go home and get out of his soaked shirt. After all, it’s not like he particularly enjoys taking involuntary baths in beer. 

“No worries,” he grits through his teeth.

“You don’t sound like you mean it,” she pouts, and he wonders how she can be drunk enough to fall but not drunk enough to miss the sarcasm in his voice. 

He’s about to apologise, because while he might not be in the best mood right now, he doesn’t want to be an asshole either.

Before he gets the chance though, the drunk girl interrupts him, “I’m Y/N.”

He shakes her outstretched hand. 

“Tom.”

She removes some sweaty strands of hair from her forehead, and Tom tries to lean down to look under the couch for his phone, but he can’t see it, and this position really isn’t good for his neck. 

He curses, sitting back up to find her eyeing him with furrowed brows. 

“Why are you sad?” she asks him like it’s a completely normal question to ask a stranger. 

“I’m not sad, I’m just irritated,” he argues, hoping that she’ll go and pester someone else soon.

She cocks her head, features sincere and serious.

“Your eyes look sad.”

He gulps, feeling his breath quicken just a little. He feels uncomfortable under her gaze, and he hates how it feels like this annoying drunk girl sees right through him. 

“Well, I’m not,” he mutters, but he knows it doesn’t sound convincing. 

It doesn’t matter if it’s believable or not, though, he reminds himself, because he doesn’t have to explain anything to her. 

“I’m sad,” she tells him with the same nonchalant tone as if she was describing the weather. 

If he was a bit less tired, he might have wanted to stay and hear her story, but he really isn’t in the mood. 

“Can I get one of your friends for you?” he offers, but it doesn’t seem like she hears him.

“I’m so tired of being me, y’know? I’m always so careful and boring, but I’ve decided I’m gonna try to be different. Try to experience something,” she slurs, turning her head away from him to look at the party, but Tom can still see how her eyes are getting wet. 

”Adventure is out there, waiting for me, I just know it is.”

Maybe she isn’t that bad, he thinks, because her words are actually kind of beautiful, and there’s a part of him that wants to hear more about those adventures she wants to go on. 

However, he doesn’t get to, because her head falls heavy onto his shoulder and she starts snoring lightly, and all the irritation returns.

He doesn’t know her, or anyone else besides Harrison at this party (he actually doesn’t even know if Harrison’s still here. He better bloody be) so he can’t just leave her to a friend and let someone else take care of her. 

He sighs, making a mental note to scold Harrison before he shakes her and tries to wake her up. It’s not a surprise that he can’t as it seems that nothing tonight goes his way. When he stands up, her body immediately falling into the free space on the sofa, and he takes five seconds to feel sorry for himself before he scoops her up into his arms, hands on her back and knees. 

He makes his way through way too many drunk people, and it’s even harder to squeeze in between with another person in his arms which means that he’s already sweaty when he reaches the staircase. 

Well, at least he won’t have to go to the gym tomorrow.

He opens the first door he gets to with his foot, only to find that it’s a bathroom, and then he continues a couple steps down the hall to the next door which luckily seems to be some kind of guest room.

He puts her down on the bed, arms almost cramping. He figures he must have missed a couple workouts, because although it would be tough for most people to carry someone for as long as he did, it shouldn’t be his hard for him, at least not if he’s in the shape he thought he was. But well, it has been stressed with work lately, and it’s felt like 24 hours a day wasn’t enough.

In other words, getting a few hours of sleep has been prioritized over hitting the gym. 

He plops down on the floor, taking a quick breather. Looking at her sleeping figure, he figures that she isn’t pretty. He knows it makes him sound shallow, but it’s the first thing that pops into his mind. 

Well, it’s not like she’s ugly or anything, but she isn’t anything special, either.

He shakes his head at his own thoughts, reminding himself that it doesn’t matter what she looks like, and that it’s stupid to be so focused on people’s looks. 

To his defence, he doesn’t think he’s always been like this, but it’s hard to stay 100% focused on the inner stuff in a place like Hollywood where people get glammed up for a living. 

And as for Y/N, she might be prettier without smudged makeup, a bird nest for hair and mouth slightly open in she sleeps, drooling just a little. Tom’s been an actor for a long time and worn his good share of makeup, so he knows it takes a very special person not to look bad with dark patches all over their face from their ruined eye makeup, and he figures that he should give her a break.

He sighs, rising from his spot on the floor, but when he’s almost at the door, she speaks up.

“Don’t leave,” she begs him, her eyes fluttering open just a bit. “I don’t wanna be alone.”

He curses himself, because this really shouldn’t be happening, and he just wants to go home to his own apartment and get a good night’s sleep and maybe cuddle with his dog a bit, but he hasn’t even found his phone yet, and as for Y/N, anyone could walk right in and take advantage of her drunken state.

So, he turns around to face her and nods tiredly, promising, “I’ll be right here.”

His words seem to calm her, a small smile on her lips as she drifts back to sleep and leaves him to figure out a way to get comfortable. He’s tempted to lay in the bed beside her, but while his back would definitely thank him for it, he knows it would be wrong without her consent (and she isn’t exactly in a state to give him that as of now). 

So, it seems that he has two choices: the green, seemingly old armchair in the corner of the room or the floor. For all he knows, there could be an endless number of gross things spilled on the floor, and chances are there’s fewer on chair, so he sits down, swinging his feet over the side of it and tries to get comfortable. 

It takes a while, and it’s hard to ignore the unpleasant feeling of his shirt clinging to his chest, but finally, he falls asleep in a guest room in a house he’s never been to before, belonging to people he doesn’t know and with a girl who’s been nothing but an inconvenience ever since he met her. 

Still, he thinks to himself, this could be worse.

And maybe Y/N isn’t the only one who doesn’t want to be alone. 

***

Tom doesn’t think of himself as too touchy or snobby, but it’s been a long time since he’s woken up feeling so uncomfortable as he does now. His shirt is sticky and smells like cheap beer, his legs should have gotten out of those tight jeans many, many hours ago and he doesn’t know where he is. 

His memories return quickly when he notices the girl in the bed, snoring lightly. She looks even worse than last night, he thinks as he gets up from the chair. He stretches, feeling his whole body ache. To make matters worse, his stomach is screaming for food, but at least he didn’t drink nearly enough last night to have a hangover.

He tiptoes out of the room as quiet as he can, the wooden joists still creaking under his feet, but luckily, he doesn’t think it wakes her up.

He doesn’t close the door completely behind him, worried it will make too much noise, and then he walks down the stairs, determined to find his phone. 

The ground floor looks like it’s been ravaged by a whole zoo, and Tom is once again reminded why he’s always hesitant to host big parties. He hates cleaning up after other people.

The kitchen smells like puke, and Tom’s pretty sure there’s some in the sink, but he doesn’t feel the need to look closely.

He’s really hungry, though, so he checks the fridge for anything to eat and grabs a couple of carrots, deciding that a proper breakfast will have to wait a little.

After washing the vegetables, he walks into the living room, careful not to kick any of the beer cans or wine bottles on the floor while mindlessly chewing on the carrots.

He figures he should check by the sofa first, hoping his phone hasn’t been kicked around and that it’s still hiding somewhere beneath the furniture.

There are various dark patches on the sofa, and Tom prays that they got there after he sat there and not before, because otherwise, his jeans needs serious washing.

He bends down, unable to see anything besides darkness under the huge sofa, and although everything in him screams about the bacteria he surely will come in contact with, he reaches out his arm and searches blindly until he comes in contact with something that feels like a phone.

He has just gotten it out after much manoeuvring, when her voice startles him.

“We didn’t have sex, did we?” she asks, and the shock causes him to bump his head up into the sofa. His head hurts a bit, but his pride has surely been more wounded, so he quickly stands up, ignoring the pain.

He hadn’t even noticed that she had woken up, let alone that she had walked down the stairs.

Maybe she’s a spy that drinks away her sorrows at weird parties in her free times. More likely, he’s been too focused on finding his phone to hear anything.  

When he doesn’t answer, she continues, “Because I’ve had this stupid idea about getting out of my comfort zone and going on adventures, but that might be taking it a bit too-”

“I don’t think it’s stupid,” he blurts out. “But no, we didn’t have sex.”

She nods, biting her lip and running a hand through her hair that looks even worse in the morning, reminding Tom of one of those bird nests he loved searching for in his grandparents’ garden when he was younger.

“Is this your house?”

Her voice is raspy and low, probably a result of the drinking she had clearly done, and she looks like something with severe hangover, at least judging from the way her skin looks greasy and colourless.

Still, there’s something about her voice that he likes, especially when it isn’t drunkenly drabbling.

He shakes his head, “I have no idea who lives here. My friend just dragged me to this party.”

She chuckles hoarsely, “Me too.”

Tom doesn’t know what to answer to that, so he just stands there looking at her while she does the same, clearly not all too comfortable about the situation. He looks down on his phone and tries to turn it on, but it seems it’s run out of battery.

He clears his throat, “You don’t, by any chance, carry a charger on you, do you?”

She shakes her head with a smile, “Nah, sorry. Got one back home, but that doesn’t really help, does it?”

It’s not really funny, but he still laughs.

“No worries. I really should be going home anyway.”

Playfully, she inquires, “You don’t feel like thanking our generous host for letting us stay?”

He laughs again (this time, it is a bit funny though), and she looks almost smug.

“I’ll leave that to you.”

He puts his hands in his back pockets, but something feels off. There’s too much space in them.

Frantically, he curses, “Shit. Think I’ve lost my keys, too.”

He might have been a bit annoyed at her yesterday, but when she offers to help him look, he decides that she can’t be that bad.

Harrison is a pain in the ass when he’s drunk, too, and that’s one of Tom’s best friends, so surely, he ought to give Y/N another chance.

“Thanks,” he mutters, but she just shrugs.

“Don’t have anything better to do, really.”

That sounds sad, but he doesn’t really know her well enough to comment on it, so he just nods when she tells him she’ll look in the guest room where they slept.

She comes back down a couple minutes later, her hands empty, and joins Tom’s search in the rest of the house,

“Must have forgotten them at home.”

“Does one of your friends have a spare key?” she asks him, and he nods.

“Yeah, the mate who brought me here last night. But he rarely sleeps at his own flat after parties,” Y/N rolls her eyes at that while Tom thinks that’s a bit unfair, considering she didn’t sleep at home last night, either, “and my phone’s out of battery, so…”

She looks like she’s debating something, bottom lip pursed between her teeth and brows furrowed.

“I mean, I have my keys. And a charger at home. And I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t have stayed last night if I hadn’t begged you to, so I kinda owe you,” she offers, rambling.

“You sure? I’ll figure something out either way, you know.”

Tom usually doesn’t go home with strangers, especially not in the morning, but this time, it would be incredibly comforting to get his phone charged and thereby, hopefully, his spare keys from Harrison.

“I’m sure. Come on now, my car’s not far.”

He follows her out, and he can’t help considering how this must look to strangers. He’s walking with a girl who looks like she’s been run over by a truck, both of them clearly dressed for Friday night and not Saturday morning. He just hopes the paparazzi doesn’t find him, because if there’s something he doesn’t want to see on the internet (really, there’s many things in that category, but still), it’s pictures of him and Y/N doing something that looks terribly much like a walk of shame.

“Just a couple more minutes,” she assures him, mistaking his worry for tiredness.

“I just try to park a bit away from the parties. Had my car trashed once, and it definitely wasn’t something I want to be a reappearing experience.”

“Nah, that sounds shitty. Do you know who did it?”

He figures he might as well make small talk if they’re stuck with each other for a while, and she seems like the chatty type.

She shrugs, “No, but my insurance paid for everything, so it wasn’t that big of a deal. Just don’t need it to happen again, honestly.”

“Yeah, I get it.”

Once again, a silence falls upon them, and Tom doesn’t know how to fill it. They barely even know each other’s names, so really, what should he say?

And oh god, he hasn’t really thought about it yet, but what if she has recognized him? If she’s some crazy reporter trying to lure him into a corner and answer weird questions?

But she seemed sincere last night, he reminds himself, when she asked him to stay. Vulnerable in a way he hasn’t experienced with a stranger before.

“We’re here,” she says, gesturing towards the beat red car beside them. And the weird thing is, Tom falls in love immediately.

With the car, that is.

He loves luxurious cars that can drive fast and has all these amazing gadgets, but this stupidly old and ugly red car is just different, somehow. It feels like home.

He realises why when he sits down on the passenger seat, and the smell of old car and a light tint of cigars hits his nostrils. It’s like being a kid again and sitting in his grandparents’ car, the one his grandfather couldn’t get himself to throw away.

“It’s old, I know,” she states, almost apologetic. “Pretty crappy, too,” she chuckles.

“I love it,” he tells her, honestly, and a smile breaks slowly on her lips.

“Yeah, me too.”

She starts the car, and it makes a rumbling noise, almost like saying hello. He pats the dashboard gently, feeling stupid immediately afterwards, but he can’t keep the grin off his face.

He turns his head to look at her, her face scrunched up with focus as she manoeuvres the car out of the tight parking spot, squeezed in between two big black cars.

Shooting him a look through the corner of her eyes, “Her name’s Sally.”

Embarrassed by being caught watching her, he asks, “Who?”

“The car, of course.”

He laughs, forgetting all about his embarrassment.

“Thought people only named their cars in movies.”

She shakes her head, eyes twinkling.

“Well, you can’t deny she’s a Sally.”

He thinks about it for a moment before he has to admit, “Yeah, I guess she is.”

She smiles proudly, turning on the radio and humming alone to a pop song Tom doesn’t know. Still, he doesn’t mind this, sitting in this piece of junk with Y/N. Tom has to admit, she’s way less annoying when she’s sober. Actually, she’s quite good company.

He leans his head towards the window, letting the sound of the radio and her low singing fade until it’s just a comfortable background noise.

Next thing he knows, there’s a hand on his shoulder, squeezing softly.

“We’re just outside my apartment, Tom.”

He blinks and tries to shake the sleep from his eyes.

“Wow. Guess I must have fallen asleep, sorry.”

She chuckles, “It’s okay, I get it. I wouldn’t mind a couple more hours, either.”

His neck hurts a bit, but he doesn’t know if it’s from his little nap in the car or from sleeping the chair at the party. Probably, it’s a mix of both.

He gets out, cracking his neck with a pleasing sound (Surely more disturbing to Y/N whose shoulders scrump up at the sound) and trails behind her.  

She lives in an anonymous complex, a red brick stone façade and probably about six floors. He notices the elevator but follows her up the stairs to the fifth floor, just a little out of breath when he gets there, although his host seems unfaced.

“Wow, this must be like doing leg day everyday,” he comments, making her chuckle.

“You get used to it,” she shrugs and opens the door.

“Welcome to my humble abode,” she tells him with a stupid grin on her face, holding the door open for him and clearly waiting for him to enter.

He doesn’t know if she’s the kind of person who takes off their shoes before even entering the flat, but he kicks them off in the hallway and hopes she doesn’t mind. He’s relieved to see she does the same, discarding her denim jacket on the hanger before turning around to face him.

Tom doesn’t know how long he’ll be here, so he just keeps his jacket on. After all, he’s dying to get his spare keys from Harrison and get home, and she probably wants to be alone as well.

“Do you want the grand tour or just the charger?” she offers, and he follows her to what seems to be the living room, judging by the dark purple couch and the small telly.

“Um, I guess the charger first and then the tour if that’s an option?”

“Of course. Think there’s one in the kitchen.”

He feels out of place in the foreign flat, trailing behind like a lost puppy after a girl he doesn’t even know.

Entering the small kitchen, its walls painted in a pretty olive-green that fits quite well with the black cabinets (If you ask Tom, that is. And he isn’t by any means an interior designer) she points to a socket above the counter, “There it is.”

“Thanks,” he mutters, fishing up his phone from his pocket and plugging it in.

“Well, I guess it’s time for the tour. This is, if you didn’t notice, the kitchen.”

He smiles at her, nodding his head for her to go on. She walks past him, the same way they came, back into the living room where she stops in her tracks.

“And this, obviously, the living room. The ugly purple couch belongs to my roommate, Cassie, and I know it’s hideous, but trust me, you grow attached to it over time.”

It seems like she’s implying that he might come back here, and honestly, he’s surprised to say that he isn’t against the thought.

Weird.

She points to a closed door, “That’s Cassie’s room. Don’t think she’s home, though. She often stays at her girlfriend’s.”

“Well, then I don’t have to worry about getting an angry hangover girl on my neck if I make too much noise,” he jokes, earning a smile from her.

“Don’t think you’d need to worry about that. She’d like you, I think.”

Tom doesn’t know what to answer to that, but he’s pretty sure it’s a compliment, so he mutters a low “thanks,” although he isn’t sure if she hears it.

Y/N’s room is behind a door decorated with a cute picture of a baby alpaca, filled with artsy posters, plants and pictures of friends, one of the walls painted dark blue. Her bed is unmade, the white linen scrunched together in one side of the bed, and for some reason, Tom can picture himself curled up there, listening to music from the record player in the corner, watching a movie on her laptop or drinking a hot cup of tea.

It feels homey and comfortable and cosy, just like her car, but this time, Tom can’t figure out why.

She looks sheepish when she breaks her trail of thought, “I’m sorry it’s so messy, wasn’t expecting visitors.”

Only now does he notice the scattered pieces of clothing and textbooks on the floor, but he can’t be bothered to clean all the time, either, so he doesn’t think he’s one to judge her. 

“You should see my brother Sam’s flat. If this is messy, his is a catastrophe.”

That seems to ease her, and she shoots him a small smile.

“I’m glad you think so. Well, I think that was all? The bathroom is just down the hall, but honestly, it’s just an ordinary bathroom.”

At the same time, they walk towards the door, resulting in the always awkward situation where you have figure out who stays behind and lets the other one leave first.

Tom figures he hasn’t been his best self these past hours, so he steps back and gestures to her to go first at the exact same time Y/N says, “after you.”

She smiles and bites her lip, looking down before thanking him and walking out, back to the kitchen.

“Do you want anything? Water, coffee, tea?” she offers while he checks his phone which has gotten up to 5% already.

Scrolling down, he finds three missed calls and ten texts from Harrison, the newest one making his cheeks heat up: “Hope whoever has been keeping you occupied all night and the whole morning is an amazing shag but a quick ‘Im ok’ text for you best mate would be nice. See you later dickhead.”

Looking up from the screen, it takes him two seconds to recall what she’d asked him before he can answer, “Uhm, a cup of tea would be nice, thank you.”

“Sure.”

He quickly types out the requested ‘I’m okay’ text to Harrison, before explaining his situation to his best friend as short as he can.

She passes him the cup, leaning against the counter, mug in hand as she watches him.

“Thank you,” she starts, biting her lip. “For staying with me last night. I was really drunk, and I- yeah, not everyone would have been as sweet as you.”

Her gaze fixates on something on the wall, and she looks as vulnerable as last night. Tom would be damned if he didn’t help her.

“Only an asshole would have left you there,” he shrugs.

“Maybe, but many people would have,” she just tells him, sipping her coffee. And Tom hates that she’s right. So, he changes the subject,

“Last night, you talked of chasing adventures or something like that. What’s that about?”

“It’s just-“ she pauses, like she’s trying to figure out the answer herself. “Do you know the feeling of life just passing by your eyes while you don’t feel like you’re participating?”

He nods. Of course he does.

“I hate it. I hate just going along with everything. I know it makes me sound like something out of a Disney movie, but I just know that there’s adventure out there.”

She takes a sip of her tea, turning her the corners of her mouth into a small smile.

“I don’t know how I’ll get to it, though.”

“We could help each other find it,” Tom offers before even thinking it through. He’s known to be impulsive, but he immediately realises that he probably shouldn’t have said that. She’s a stranger, and Tom is famous, and although it doesn’t seem like she recognizes him, it could just be a trick to get information out of him.

But he can’t regret it when her face lights up like a freaking lightning bulb.

“Really? You don’t think it’s stupid?”

Against his will, a wide grin breaks on his face.

“No. I think it’s brilliant.”

For the first time since he’s met her, he thinks that she’s kind of beautiful as she runs a hand through her hair, mischievous eyes locking with his.

“Welcome to the team then.”

[nathalie-sancoeur-assistant]

Okay so Chat Blanc has a LOT to unpack. This is not my official analysis on the whole episode, but rather, my theory on what the frick happened and/or what could have happened (and I was jumping around editing this so if things seem off with the way its written forgive me)

Spoilers below

First off and mainly- Nathalie. One of the biggest factors into her character and personality is the name “Sancoeur”, meaning “Heartless”, which goes hand in hand with her general demeanor. She’s a very stoic character and a master at masking her feelings. Therefore just based on clips of the future, we can’t just automatically assume she was 100% on board with using Adrien and Marinette’s relationship. She has a history of questioning Gabriel’s plans and we have seen her address things regarding Adrien she didn’t agree with behind closed doors- remember she is the entire reason he’s able to go to school. 

In the end, she is his employee and has to do as she is told or else risk her job- oh but there’s the kicker isn’t it? She would hardly be at risk of losing her job if she refused wouldn’t she- she could reveal him! She’s his best friend! She’s the only person he can trust with his identity so he definitely wouldn’t fire her, right?

Well considering how he acted in this episode, I’m not so sure. He just seemed...off the rails. He seems to be almost corrupt with desperation. He’s probably not thinking clearly- so if she did refuse to help with what could potentially be his most brilliant plan...she still loves him. She’s not going to reveal his identity, he might believe. Fired or not- of course not, they’ve been friends for to long, she’d reveal herself- it’d be a mess if she tried. So she has a decision to make. 

My point is that he seems just completely unpredictable. This whole episode felt like something from another universe (And it was). And Adrien needs someone mentally stable around- if Nathalie isn’t off her rocker yet then she knows that and can’t risk abandoning him with his father slowly spiraling like that. And yes, he had to have been going down BEFORE Nathalie told him Adrien was Chat Noir or else there is no other way to explain that chaotic smile he gave before deciding that that could help him obtain his son’s miraculous. (<- And that is assuming Gabriel is actually mentally unstable. If not, its still one of his biggest plans for an akuma, and if she refused, I can still only seeing it ending in a falling out and her needing to search for a new job and potentially being cut off from Adrien. She held the tablet, but that doesn’t mean she approved.)

Then we get a time skip soon after Nathalie reveals Adrien. It cuts from that right into Chat Noir and Ladybug fighting Hawkmoth in his own lair, which is presumably right above his coffin room now. How did they know where to look to find him? Where is Nathalie? He’s cornered! How would she not know? She had to have heard the crashes- what would be stopping her from grabbing the peacock miraculous and going to help Gabriel? 

Unless she’s not fighting for him anymore. 

How did they know where to find him? Well who else in Paris knows where Hawkmoth is besides Hawkmoth? Nathalie. So here, I am suggesting that Nathalie is very much a snitch- but not on Chat Noir. I’m suggesting that shortly after they discovered who Chat Noir is, something happened. Nathalie isn’t there. She is ALWAYS there. It feels wrong- there is something wrong. Nathalie would not have just up and let Gabriel get cornered like that without first trying to save him unless she chose Adrien over him. Im suggesting she snitched on Hawkmoth.

“A man who would do anything for his family....”

Even destroy it?

Once she saw that Gabriel’s obsession wasn’t with his family, wasn’t with benefiting Adrien and Emilie alike- the whole reason she fell in love with him was because of how much he loved his family, but if that wavered, if she saw that it wasn’t the case and he was truly so selfish that not only is he going to allow his son to go through the same thing he is by forcibly separating him from the girl he loves and that he was still going to continue fighting against his son, battling his child and risking killing him more and more- Is he really the man she thought he was? No. There is only so much a woman can take. Did she quit? Maybe, maybe not (her quitting, not being around any more due to being fired, or even her dying could all be possibilities and all of them could be the final factor in Gabriel’s final decent). She still probably wouldn’t want to abandon Adrien but if Gabriel fired her for turning on him (which, as I said, in this episode it feels like he would) then what else could she do? Employed by him or not, her knowing Adrien’s identity would allow her an easy way to slip information about Hawkmoth’s whereabouts. 

That also being said....they were in the Agreste house. They had to know, didn’t they? That Hawkmoth was Gabriel Agreste? The kicker was that Chat didn’t know HAWKMOTH knew who he was, and was still fighting him despite it, and then Emilie was just the feather that broke the camel’s back.

Not to mention Hawkmoth didn’t go into a “I am your father” monologue, according to the version I watched with subs. He simply said “I’m doing this for us, for you.” as well as Adrien’s name. They were in the Agreste house, how would they NOT know that it was Gabriel they were fighting? Adrien has suspected that Gabriel was Hawkmoth before and that didn’t send him into such a state. It was a combination of everything all at once that really sent him. IF what I’m thinking is right. 

All that being said, please realize that I am in no way excusing what happened at all regardless of whether Gabriel flew off his rocker. Mainly this was me just thinking about Nathalie’s role in it all, and finding an explanation as to why it all happened the way it did- because Gabriel didn’t feel quite like himself. It doesn’t make sense to me as to how or why he would seem so thrilled to be beating Adrien when we have previously seen him fawn over him (”Hes to precious to me”, calling him ‘perfect’, seeming actually concerned about Adrien being Chat Noir in Gorizilla...you know, the parts of the show where it proved that Gabriel really did care for him even if he has no parenting skills whatsoever). I just don’t understand it. I can’t see how you could try to harm someone you love unless you either never actually loved them or have lost control of your sanity. I’ve said that if I were in Hawkmoth’s shoes I’d likely do the same thing- and I don’t have a son to compare this to- but no matter how desperate I got, no matter how much I dislike kids, I would never hurt a child like that. Once someone else I love is being put in harms way the jig is up. 

I’m just glad that that timeline is erased and that didn’t actually happen. (However I could probably create a theory as to how it actually does still exist and now Chat Noir is sitting in the Parisian wasteland without even his akuma to keep him company but I’ll refrain from that for now....)

[viviae]

For the 25 Lore asks! II, III, VIII, IX

This is gonna be long because you didn’t specify for who so I’m picking everyone.

II.) What was your MC’s first impression of their LI? What about their LI’s first impression of them? Was it accurate or did them getting to know one another change how they saw each other?

Celica/Asra: They actually briefly met when they were kids when Salim created Celica’s first pair of glasses but neither of them remember it. Otherwise they met the same way described in canon at the masquerade, Celica wasn’t living in Vesuvia at the time was traveling instead and while she thought Asra was endearing she didn’t think much about it.

Celica/Portia: Portia came and visited the magic shop before the events of the story soon after Nadia woke up to try and she if she could get anything out of the local mysterious magician to help. They both felt an attraction to each other and Celica thought Portia was interesting and had potential but was ultimately just another curious mind who wasn’t going to provide business. Celica gravely underestimated just how much Portia would mean and that she wasn’t just a random civilian.   

Celica/Julian: She hated Julian. During the plague she was high stress and tightly wound up especially as she was trying to distract herself from her and Asra’s break up. Eventually she warmed up to him more and became friendly with Julian during the plague but ultimately they were coworkers and nothing more. While Julian still gets under her skin its more playful than anything and she does wonder if she was in a better mental state if they could’ve been closer during the plague

Nefeli/Muriel: Nefeli met Muriel as a gladiator when she was a making a ‘cultural exchange’ in Vesuvia. Despite coming from a culture of pacifism and never being exposed to violence she took pity on Muriel and wanted to help but was unable to due to her mothers presence refusing to let her speak to a ‘murdering brute’. She wishes that she had known more about what Muriel was truly going through then, she wishes she was in a better state of mind back then to have defied her mother, she regrets a lot of things she did but never regretted trying to show him kindness.

Sidereus/Lucio: They met when Lucio was just a mercenary when he found a young freshly made sorcerer Sidereus who has zero survival skills dying on the side of the road. Sidereus promised to make himself useful if Lucio taught him how not to die in the wilderness basically. They had a short lived fling but Sidereus was disgusted with Lucio’s bloodlust being raised a pacifist. Unfortunately for both of them Sidereus would get over his disgust for Lucio and it will become endearing to see him grow.

III.) Where in the Arcana world map does your MC come from? What was their life like there?

Actually Celica, Sidereus, and Nefeli all hale from the country of Hesperia, which while being mentioned in Portia’s tale (Described a mysterious country with an odd accent) isn’t on the actual world map they posted. So I’ll just share some of the development I have on Hesperia for my ocs which is uhhh a lot. 

Basically Hesperia is far west from Vesuvia and practically on the tail end of the continent, its a small country that is entirely based on a peninsula and was a booming economic and magical power 200 years ago with an importance on naval trading. 

Unfortunately Hesperia became one of the Devil’s first attempts to merge worlds before Vesuvia and due to this the entire country is ‘corrupted’ magically. It has become a wasteland and dust storms of ash makes it almost constantly night time. Hesperia has a religion that was born due to this deceit from the Devil that focuses solely on the idea of “resurrecting the country” through necromancy and is described as a country permanently in mourning of the Devil’s slaughter of their home. They have an intense hatred of The Arcana and have a team of magical spies and wanderers whose purpose is to prevent anything that befell on their country to happen to anyone else.     

VIII.) If your MC could take their LI anywhere in the Arcana world, where would they take them and why? What about in the real world?

Celica generally speaking has no where exactly they want to take them, as she has no real connection to her home country, all she wants is to travel the world with them without a care for a destination. 

Nefeli has been removed from Hesperia’s good graces but would love to take Muriel there one time simply because of the fact well, Muriel is excessively normal height in Hesperia and she thinks it’d be fun to see him react to no longer feeling like a giant. Also to show him her ancestral home and all the strange flora and fauna that exists in her cursed country. 

Sidereus has a lot of small towns he wants to show Lucio where the community welcomed him. He’s visited a lot of places and has a running list of areas that feel like home to him despite never living there.  

IX.) Does your MC ‘borrow’ clothes from their LI or vice versa? If so, what is their favourite garment that they’ve ‘borrowed’ and won’t ever return?

Celica uses clothes as a love language honestly. They are an extension of herself and of her love so she is a clothes thief. She is a sucker for wearing scarfs of her partners (asra’s and portia’s) and shirts and will wear them out in public with no shame and loves if someone points it out. 

Nefeli has a relationship of control when it comes to her clothes and wardrobe as its something before she left home she never had control over. if she steals anything from Muriel its only something she wears when they are intimate or not in public. She has borrowed his cloak a lot to sit around the hut

Sidereus is a whole foot taller than Lucio so nothing lucio has really fits him in a cute way. And his capes aren’t sid’s style. Besides he prefers seeing Lucio in something of his

[redheadedbastards]

Daily Life Drabbles: The Cake

Wen yawned and shuffled half-awake into the living room. Just ahead he spotted Ronan. He was (as always) draped dramatically over Margo’s recliner in a way only thought possible for wet towels. A frustrated huff escaped him and his eyebrows drew together in concentration as he tried to make sense of the Country Living Magazine in his hands. He flipped forwards a few pages and seemed only more and more at a loss the further he read on.

“Morning,” Beckman greeted him and leaned down to place a kiss on his cheek. His soft sentiment was lost though. His half-conscious reflexes missed his mark by a mile and Ronan cringed as Wen’s lips met the Irishman’s ear. “Oh, sorry. Didn’t mean to-...” He rubbed a hand over his eyes before waving vaguely. “..Yeah.”

“S’fine, swee’hear’, jus’ a li’tle gross fer ya is all.” Ronan sat up an inch to look around before settling back into the cushions more haphazardly than he started. “Ay, ‘N? Before ya go an’ make cereal o’ wha’ever ya were gonna make, come si’ with me a min’ will ya?”

The couch creaked as Wen settled beside him. His hazel eyes looked expectantly into his brown one. “Are you sick? You don’t look too happy.”

“Nah, nothin’ like tha’. Jus’ irritated,” Mulcahey explained and showed him the page he had just been attempting to glare a hole through. It was a recipe for a simple layered chocolate cake. “I wanted ta make somethin’ nice fer Margo since she’s helped us fer so long an’ Emme’ said ‘er birthday’s comin’ up. Bu’ tha thing is tha’ this book ‘e gave me doesn’ make any sense. They go’ tha ingredien’s righ’ ‘ere bu’ look a’ ‘em! I’s like their speaking French o’ something!”

The other man leaned forwards and scanned through the recipe. “What’s a teaspoon?”

“I’s a spoon. Obviously. Bu’-”, he points at another ingredient. “Then there’s tablespoons too. Which is also jus’ a spoon! Why are there two? Wha’s tha difference anyways? I though’ i’ was jus’ a mistake bu’ tha whole book is filled with tha’ shi’!”

“I have an idea,” Wen stood up suddenly and grabbed him by the hand. “I’ll show you.”

“Alrigh’y then.”

Ten minutes and three spoons now soaking in two tea cups to prep later, the two men began to try their hand at baking. It took a little while to find a large bowl and all the ingredients but whatever they couldn’t find they eventually found alternatives for. Things were starting to really come together in their opinion. At least that's what they believed by just glancing at the thing.

Ronan was busy cutting almonds as Wen dumped a cup of water into the bowl and then a few eggs. “Don’ forge’ tha flour. Tha’s an importan’ bi’.” He reminded his boyfriend.

“Oh right!” The taller man frowned at the empty cupboard in front of him. “I used all of our cups on the other ingredients. Should I use a mug instead?”

“Hm..” He squinted at him before bobbing his head in approval. “Yeah tha’ shoul’ be fine. Doesn’ ‘ave ta be perfect.”

The Irishman slid the bag of flour across the counter before pouring the almonds into the mix. Wen had just lifted the bag up in front of him when it began to slip from his hands. On instinct his other hand shot out and grabbed it before it fell, sending a large plume of flour into the face and chest of the man leaned in front of him. The flour-coated man coughed and rubbed his hand over his face.

“‘N.. Wha’ jus’-?” An accusatory brown eye glared up at him from a white-coated wasteland where his face had been. Wen, initially having felt terrible for accidentally dousing him in the powder, now struggled to withhold his laughter. He tried not to look at him as a few deep giggles escaped his lips. Ronan felt his face grow hot with a mix of annoyance and embarrassment before he saw the state of his clothes. “M-Mah shir’! ‘N, ya go’ i’ all over my new-! AN’ MY JACKE’?! Wen-!” He whined and uselessly tried to shake the cloth clean.

“I- I’m s-” Watching him wag his shirt about was too much for the other man and Beckman curled over as laughter overtook him. Tears streamed down his face as he guffawed. Anytime he looked up at Ronan he immediately was hit with a new wave of joy. “Sorry- I’m-!” He struggled to speak. “I-!”

“Ya think this is jus’ so funny, huh?” Beckman nodded and wiped at his face. “Well how funny is i’ for ya when I do this-!” Ronan grabbed him by the collar and pulled his laughing face down to him. He pressed his lips against his roughly, catching Wen pleasantly off guard. Just when he had begun to sink into the kiss the flour-covered man rubbed his face all over his own.

“Ah- Stop-!” He laughed trying to get away. He didn’t get far before Mulcahey wrapped his arms around him and went to work trying to cover every inch of the 7 foot tall man with flour. “Ronan, ah-! You got it in my sweater!”

“Tha’s wha’ ya ge’ fer ruinin’ my hair AN’ clothes.” He growled playfully then yelped as they both went careening backwards and landed on the floor. “AH! WEN-! THA FLOUR!!” He flailed uselessly underneath the larger man’s body. Only managing to get more of the flour on him in the process. Ronan let out a dramatic and forlorn groan and flopped his hands back down. Choosing to accept his fate rather than fight it any longer.

Wen grinned at him, his freckled face half coated as well. “Does that mean I win?” Ronan’s eye shot back open and he glared at him.

“Never!” He declared, grabbing him by the back of his leg and flipping him off. Mulcahey shimmied to his feet and stood proudly over his startled form. “Accept i’, love! In tha end I always-”

The front door creaked open and a small older woman walked through. The Irishman turned around and Margo looked between the two of them, the mess on the counter and her full sink. “..Boys.” She said in an eerily smooth tone. She took a deep breathe in and pushed her glasses up her nose. “I’m gonna go visit Kat for a bit.” She went back out the way she came and slowly meandered back to her truck.

“Shi’.” Ronan shared a worried look with Wen before helping him up. “Alrigh’ new plan. We clean this up then we finish tha cake.”

“Sounds good.” They shook on it and got started. Wen went to work trying to sweep the flour off the counter and floor with his hands. Mulcahey, on the other hand, began to strip off his clothes and put them into a bag so as not to track it in the house. Both now driven by their combined efforts to not get killed when the woman returned to the cabin.

-2 hours later-

Margo’s hand hesitated before grabbing the doorknob before her. She hoped her heart could handle whatever she found on the other side. She opened the door and to her surprise the kitchen looked nearly as it had when she first left that morning. Cautiously, she continued forwards.

“Shorty, Rooster, where did you all get off to?” She heard quick, very-much-audible whispering in the other room. After another few seconds Ronan stumbled out from the hallway as if pushed by an over-eager hand and grins apprehensively at her. “Care to explain what’s going on?”

“Well, ya see-,” his eye glanced at the living room and he cleared his throat. “We- Me and ‘N, ya know ‘im. Well, we made somethin’ an’- Oh-! Tha mess don’ worry we go’ tha’ all up! I’s jus’ woosh gone, y’know how tha’ goes. Jus’-!.. Yep.”

“Rooster, are you gonna spit it out or-?” All of her old worries were now gone and now she merely enjoyed watching the ordeal play out.

Ronan, looking rather constipated, shouted for the other to join them. It took him a second, but eventually the sheepish man came into the main room as well. In his hands he carefully supported a-.. Well, she wasn’t exactly sure what it was, on one of her nicer plates. Just going from the looks of the thing she assumed that if either church in town caught sight of it it’d likely be declared an abomination and quickly exorcised.

“We made a cake,” Wen said proudly. “For your birthday!”

“Was my idea bu’ ‘N helped me transla’e i’ and pu’ i’ together. Do ya know how hard i’ is ta make one o’ these?! Took ages. Bu’ i’s perfect.”

“Better than the picture,” the other chimed in. Mulcahey nodded in agreement and she chuckled. “We should have some.”

Margo had at first found the whole situation rather endearing. That is, she felt that way until that exact point. She smiled widely but as her eyes fell on the mess on the plate she only felt dread filling her gut. “Of course! L-Let’s go get us each a slice.” She had lived long enough, she decided and took the plate from him.

She set the thing on their dining room table and did her best to cut it as it oozed beneath her blade. Margo put a strangely rigid yet gelatinous piece on each of their plates and sat down. Her two loveably stupid sons smiled excitedly at her as she scooped some onto a fork. She smiled back, prayed to whoever or whatever was out there and took a bite. “Is-..” She struggled to swallow it. “Is that sour cream?”

Ronan gave her a smug look. “Yep, we forgo’ ta add i’ in before with tha other ingredients bu’ then I remembered we still needed ta make tha fillin’. So we jus’ threw I’ in there! Clever righ’?”

“Oh? Yes, very.. Um, creative.” She chewed through another glob and gave him a supportive smile. Turning her attention to the other man beside her, she found that Wen was shoveling down the mess without hesitation. Margo’s stomach twisted at the sight but she couldn’t help but respect him for it. “Well, this was real nice, boys. I love it alot. It was-.. Was very sweet of you both to do this all just for me.”

She reached over and dusted some flour out of the fan of Ronan’s mohawk. Making a mental note to teach them how to bake before her next birthday. He grumbled and waved her off and Wen continued to eat the “cake” like a man half-starved, smiling all the while. Margo, despite her and very likely Wen’s inevitable food poisoning, found that this was the best birthday she had in a long time and looked forward to the next one they would share.