#i just sort of love the idea of him sailing with her on the Empress

[swannposting]

Jack (on a side adventure with Lizzie?) comes across some supernatural thing that even he isn't about to fuck around and find out about. Something insane like a wardrobe being guarded on a ship and he opens it and snow comes out.

♡ Hi, anon! Thank you dearly for this prompt. I had a great deal of fun playing with this today. ♡ -> askbox is open for prompts whenever

“We never should have sailed north of the Carolinas, Lizzie.” 

Shivering like a wet dog, Jack trudges along a rocky beach at the heels of his Captain. He rubs at his elbows for warmth and lets out an ostentatious sneeze. 

“You know I hate the cold,” he grumbles, his voice thick and snotty, “And the clouds. Where’s the sun? Feels like me bollocks are goin’ to freeze off…”

“Keep that up.” Elizabeth taps at the compass cradled delicately in her palm. She pauses, squinting at the twitching needle, and Jack catches up beside her.

“Huh?” 

“You are being thoroughly annoying,” she informs him, “It’s stopping the compass from getting distracted by you.” 

“Hm. Well, you’re welcome. Can we leave now?” 

Her eyes roll irritably in his direction and she just walks onward, leaving him stewing in his bad mood. Jack stumbles on the unfamiliar terrain as he hurries after her. 

“Do you truly think there will be something of value here?” he says, following her around the corner of a cliffside, “Seems like this rock is entirely devoid of anything shiny.” 

“The compass seems to think so,” she replies, “I suspect it’s got something to do with the chalices. I’ve been wanting them terribly.” 

“Compass doesn’t work like that.”

“Sure it does,” she says matter-of-factly, “When one learns to get a handle on one’s own desires, she can be incredibly responsive.”

Jack scoffs, unwilling to believe that Elizabeth could have mastered the compass that has been his uncertain guide all his life. They continue along the base of one of the myriad of cliffsides found in the scattered islands north of the British Isles until they come across a break in the rock formation. It is almost like a staircase of stone. It isn’t man made, but it looks simple enough to scale. 

“Allow me, dearie,” Jack offers, stepping forward to take the lead as they climb. 

“No, you stay behind me,” orders Captain Swann, hopping gracefully up onto the first ledge. 

Of course, he should have known. If he is to take the lead, Elizabeth will be unable to discern if the compass is leading her to the treasure they seek, or in circles, following her dear old Jack. That gives him something to grin wickedly about as they ascend into the cliffside. Distracted by his own celebratory musings, he walks right into Elizabeth. They have reached the top of the cliff, where the ground is patchy with grass, and their anchored ship is visible in the distance. The captain has halted to look out at what they’ve found. 

“Huh. A shortcut?”

Elizabeth approaches a large opening in the ground. She kneels at the edge and peers down, then takes a pebble and drops it into the pit. It sinks with a whistle of air, and a splash echoes upward. 

“You aren’t actually thinking about going down there, are you?” asks Jack from where he stands at a safer distance. 

“I was considering sending you down there.” 

“Contrary to popular belief, I do not enjoy exploring massive, unfamiliar holes.”         

Still, he cannot help his curiosity, and he steps forward to peer down as well. 

“This must be the cave that they spoke of,” Elizabeth says thoughtfully, “You can hear the tide within. Seems like the compass just took us on the most direct route.” 

As she contemplates the sea cave below, Jack is suddenly spurred by a spirit of mischief. He does not mean to push Elizabeth into the pit, really. When he jolts her shoulders, he is only trying to give her a lighthearted scare, perhaps providing more of that helpful annoyance she asked for. But she startles, and slips, and the fragile earth beneath them crumbles at the edges. Gasping, she grasps at his coat as she falls, dragging him down into the abyss with her. Their shrieks shatter the silence of the cave, surely alerting anything that dwells there of their presence before they splash into the water below. 

The water there is dark emerald, illuminated by what Jack first thinks are some kind of gemstones. Until the gemstones move, and he realizes that the glow comes from the eyes of several creatures swirling past him underwater. Bubbles escape his mouth in a silent shout. He swims upward at top speed.

“Selkies!” he cries as he breaks the surface. Treading water, he spins about, searching for Elizabeth. 

“I know!” Elizabeth calls back. Jack spots her a ways away, being guided to a dark shore within the cave by a large seal. “They’re nice!” 

“No, they are not!” Jack splutters through his breaststrokes as he makes for shore, “They’re like mermaids, ‘Lizbeth. They’ll trick you!” 

But she pays no heed to his warning, and ends up on the ebony sands just before he does. Several of her new selkie friends follow, and as they emerge from the water, their seal skin transforms into pale, naked, human forms. Their eyes, huge like saucers and darker than the Black Pearl, lock with Elizabeth’s inquisitive gaze. He hears her whisper, “Beautiful…”  as she extends a hand to one of them. 

If Jack was cold before, he is positively turning to ice now. Drenched from head to toe, Jack wobbles to his feet and hurries to Elizabeth, tugging her away from the spell of the selkies. They hiss at him, exposing razor sharp teeth. Elizabeth yelps. Dozens of selkies within the water and on the shore all begin to circle the small strip of land upon which they stand, shivering with cold. 

“Do you think they are guarding that?”  

Elizabeth points further back in the cave. It seems that a bit of sunlight has broken the cloud cover and now shines through a small opening in the roof of the cave. The sliver of light reveals the remnants of a ship, wrecked and run aground. 

“Lovely observation, Lizzie dear,” says Jack, checking that his sword is still strapped to his belt, “Now what do you say we leave them to their duty, shall we?” 

Instinctively, they side-step until they are back to back, ready to draw their weapons and defend one another should the selkies use their teeth for more than just an unfriendly hiss. 

“No!” Elizabeth protests in a near whisper, “I want to see what’s in there.” 

“I expect more things that would love nothing more than to kill intruders such as you and I.” 

“We don’t know that! They could be nice.” 

“You almost became dinner for these things a moment ago.” 

Jack groans, covering his eyes for fear of the sekies’ spell. He hears movement beside him and peeks between his fingers to see that Elizabeth is boldly approaching the creatures. As fond as he is for his darling captain, he considers making a break for it and leaving her to sort out her own questionable decisions. 

“Hello!” greets Elizabeth, cheerily as she can muster to conceal the fear that Jack sees in her shaky smile. She gives a wave and holds up both hands in a sign of peaceful surrender. “Lovely to meet you all! And thank you very much for helping me to shore. I am Elizabeth Swann, Pirate Lord of the South China Seas and King of the Brethren Court.”

The selkies exchange looks and start to whisper among themselves in an unfamiliar tongue. Elizabeth casts a nervous glance at Jack, who is becoming very distracted by the terrifying visions of beauty that surround him. Before he can run, two selkies slink out of the water and come up behind him, sliding their long, dainty arms around his shoulders. The tallest of the selkies, and perhaps the most stunning of them all, steps up to Elizabeth, who holds her ground. 

“A woman king?” inquires the selkie in a melodic voice. Briefly in awe, Elizabeth blinks a moment before answering. 

“Indeed, I am.”

“And this man here– We saw him push you into the water. Would you like us to kill him for you?” 

“That was entirely accidental!” Jack calls out, struggling against the creatures and their pointy nails, “An awful misunderstanding really! Now if you’ll just kindly call off your ladies we can—”

Elizabeth shoots him a glare and holds up a hand to silence him, then smiles sweetly at what might be the selkie clan’s leader. 

“That is very kind, but no, thank you!” 

“Oh. Is he your… consort?” 

“Yes. I- I mean– no. Not exactly. He is more like my second in command. And I would like to keep him around. I do apologize for our intrusion. I can assure you we mean no harm.” 

“A pirate that means no harm?” says the leader, tilting her head. The other selkies let out a chorus of taunting laughter that makes Jack squirm. 

“Yes,” Elizabeth insists, “We mean you no harm.” 

“In our experience, pirates are liars who befoul our homes and slaughter our children.” 

The selkie leader’s anger is palpable. Elizabeth takes one step back, shuddering as a cold wind blows through the sea cave. 

“Those pirates are not our allies,” says Elizabeth, choosing her words carefully, “And I will make certain that any pirate who lives by the Code of my Brethren shall never harm you, or any of your children...” 

Jack winces. That sort of grandiose promise does not sound like something that could be easily enforced. But perhaps these are just words. Perhaps Elizabeth has seen sense and, like him, wants to get as far away from these isles as—

“...All I ask is to be permitted onto that ship you guard.” 

Bugger. Jack drags a hand down his face and groans again. If he ends up gnawed to death by a gorgeous seal-lady, he swears he will have a nasty message for William when the Dutchman comes to retrieve his soul. 

“That  ship?” The selkie leader inclines her head toward the back of the cave. Elizabeth nods. 

“I believe there might be something there that I am seeking. That is all we have come here for.” 

A disarming smile graces the selkie’s face, and her red lips stretch over teeth like sharpened pearls. She advances on Elizabeth, and Jack holds his breath, fearing that he is about to watch the gruesome demise of someone quite dear to him. Instead, the creature takes Elizabeth’s face in both her hands. 

“You are a very interesting Pirate King indeed. Have you been blessed by the sea?” 

Elizabeth’s lips part and her eyelashes flutter. It might be magic that has her entranced, or she might just be enraptured by this supernatural beauty. Jack can barely hear her say, 

“In a way, I am married to the sea.”

Her response pleases the leader, who touches her lips to Elizabeth’s forehead. 

“Then you have our blessing as well.” 

As the selkie leader draws back, Jack sees that Elizabeth’s face is bright pink, either from the cold, or that blessing. She and the selkie leader share a saccharine smile that Jack does not understand in the slightest. 

“Whatever it is that you seek is none of our concern. That ship is all that remains of a crew of men who failed to defeat us. We do not guard it. It is yours to explore.” 

And that is that. The leader calls off her fellow selkies, who retreat into the water and into the darkened corners of the cave. Jack scurries after Elizabeth, who heads straight for the shipwreck after graciously thanking the selkies. Together they shimmy up a splintering column of wood and nearly collapse onto the first deck they reach, which seems to be a captain’s quarters.

“Well, that was—”

“What the fuck  did you do that for?” hisses Elizabeth, her teeth chattering now, “We were lucky enough that they d-didn’t kill us, but our wet clothes may very well s-send us to our graves!”

With trembling hands, she opens up the compass again. She gives it a shake and lets out an exasperated sigh. 

“It’s spinning like mad now. What I w-want m-most in this world is t-to get warm!” 

Jack wraps her hands in his and rubs them together. When that fails to generate any real warmth, he gently takes back his compass and she hugs herself. 

“Let me try…”

Though it wouldn’t surprise him if the compass’s needle pointed him in the direction of the equator. He told  her that he hated going north, and for good reason. Jack rises to his feet and starts to pace the dusty old cabin. The needle settles and he turns to where it points. 

“Ah! How about this for a heart’s desire!” 

He stands before a large wardrobe, and to his delight, it is unlocked. Some sort of clothing must be inside, he hopes. Anything dry would do them good for now. However, something strange seems to emanate from the knobs. He hears Elizabeth come up behind him as he tugs open the doors. He expects the wardrobe to be full of dust. What tumbles out is a shock, to say the least. Heaps of powdery snow avalanche out onto his boots, and a cloud of the stuff goes fluttering outward as though an icy winter wind has been released from the depths of the wardrobe. He turns to Elizabeth, his dreads and facial hair covered in snowflakes. 

“Captain Swann?” 

“Yes?” 

“May I suggest we get the hell out of here?” 

Blinking away snow from her lashes, Elizabeth nods fervently. Jack steps back, kicking ice and snow from his boots, and something catches his eye. 

“Oh…? What’s this?” 

The cold bites at his bare hand as he stoops to reach into the heap. There, glinting beneath this bizarre indoor snowfall, is one of the two silver Chalices of Cartagena. Precisely what they have been searching for. He hands it to Elizabeth for her to marvel at. Then he snaps his compass shut and kisses it gratefully.

“Incredibly responsive. Seems this blasted thing knew where she was taking us after all!”

[rhetoricalrogue]

Fiction Type: Fanfiction Fandom: Dragon Age Prompt: "You have no proof"

Continuing @fictober-event with the AU of the AU of the AU @alittlestarling and I are up to our eyebrows in, this time focusing on my son Vincent.

Running and fighting. Fighting and running. Catch a few fitful hours of unrestful sleep, then repeat. It seemed that was all Vincent had been doing these past few months. First, there was the running and fighting that had been expected of him when he had been conscripted into Empress Celene’s army, then the running when a templar on their side had turned on their unit – Vincent was still healing from the many arrow wounds he’d received when the smite had hit him from behind, the barrier he had put up to protect the solders on their side crashing down at the worst possible moment – and then running from where he had dragged himself, almost near death, to heal and recover back to his side of the army out of fear that they would think he had abandoned his post and hunt him down to drag him back or worse, give him the Brand and use him as an example of battlemages who thought they could take advantage of chaos on the battlefield to make a run from the Circle.

There had been a brief respite from the fighting as he traveled back east, the days of interrogation he’d undergone to prove that he spoke the truth about what had happened that day finally paying off. Vincent knew that his noble birth was one of the main reasons he had been allowed to return to Ostwick, injured in the line of duty – if conscription into a war not of his making nor even in his homeland could ever be called duty – and he wasn’t going to argue with his commanding officers once they signed the paperwork for his release back to the Circle. He’d set a hard pace from the Exalted Plains to Jader, worry that word of his untimely death – once they couldn’t find a body, the army had been quick to declare him killed in action – had already reached those he cared for.

Maker, if Roz ever thought he was dead, it would gut him to think of putting her through unnecessary grief and agony, no matter how brief.

Travel back home was on a decent pace, then he heard word of a contingent of mages traveling to Haven, which was decidedly closer than boarding a ship to sail from Jader back home. Vincent’s mind was made up when he heard that there were mages from Ostwick in the company and joining up with them was far more preferable than sailing across the Waking Sea.

Vincent and boats went together just as well as oil and water.

And then the unthinkable happened. He hadn’t even been anywhere close to Haven when word got out of the explosion, rumors quick to jump to the conclusion that mages had been at the root of the calamity and had taken a page out of the apostate from Kirkwall a year or so ago and blown up the Divine to enact change. Vincent was fortunate that his physical build wasn’t what one stereotypically thought of when they pictured a mage, and he used that to his advantage to flee. Templars were suddenly everywhere, killing on sight. Whatever brief rest he had from running and fighting was well over, and Vincent found himself hiding among pockets of mages similarly running for their lives in the wilds of Ferelden. He lost count of the days, catching sleep when he could and helping as many mages as possible while looking out for himself. It was selfish and he would feel guilty later but running, even if running meant leaving people behind, was the only way that he would possibly ever make it back home again.

Back home, and back to Rosalind. The image of her was seared into his mind and it was one bright thing he had to cling to. He would be damned if he had survived everything that had been thrown at him so far only to succumb to a templar’s blade before he could see her in person again.

Who knew how many days later, Vincent found himself close to Redcliffe. There were rumors that the village was a safe haven for mages everywhere and it was the closest thing to hope that he’d felt since leaving Orlais. He didn’t know how much further it was, but there were abandoned crofter’s cottages dotting the landscape that he dared to take shelter in. He couldn’t risk lighting fires in the hearth, but fitfully sleeping with a roof over his head instead of out in the open was a welcome relief.

And then the demons came. The most direct route to Redcliffe was cut off and Vincent found himself running from shrieking monsters that he had only encountered during his Harrowing. The only positive was that the demons didn’t discriminate between mage, templar, or regular civilian, so if he were really looking to put a positive spin on an otherwise absolute shitshow, he told himself that there were fewer templars trying to kill him in the area.

He came across a group of mages one evening and they readily welcomed him into the shelter of the woods they had named the Witchwood. He listened halfheartedly at their more radical ideas, silently resolving to abandon them for the preferred safety of the nearby crossroads once daylight broke, when he heard someone call him by name.

“Enchanter Trevelyan?”

The light was dim in the cavern, but he didn’t need it to recognize one of his favorite pupils. “Noemi?” He made to get up from where he had sat on the floor but didn’t even make it to his knees before the fourteen-year-old girl flung herself in his direction. He muffled a pained grunt as her arms wrapped just a little too tightly around his shoulder, the last of his injuries having to heal on their own as he used whatever magic reserves he had to fight off daily attacks instead of tending to himself. “How are you here?”

“How are you here? They told us you were dead!” Vincent froze. Oh no.

“Noemi, who else is here with you? Did you come with the people going to the Conclave?”

She wiped at her face, her tears making clean tracks on dirty cheeks. “No. I ran when the Circle fell.”

His eyes widened. “What?” Reaching out, he gripped her shoulders in his hands and focused on her. “Tell me everything. Where’s Roz? Is she here?” Maker, please, he begged, his pulse roaring in his ears. I’ve never been a devout man, but please, let her be safe.

“We were heading to dinner after lessons when she took me and a few of the little ones aside and told us to head to the greenhouses for a special project. She said that she would be there as soon as she could, but there was something that she had to do first. Then all at once, there was a lot of yelling and fire and…” she swallowed. “The last I saw of her was when she was running to the greenhouses. She told me to take the little ones and run.”

He couldn’t breathe. “What do you mean, the last you saw of her?”

“Ser Barnabas grabbed her by the hair and hit her with a smite.” Noemi’s lips trembled. “She screamed for me to run, so I ran. I ran and I ran and I haven’t stopped running.”

No. No, he refused to believe she was dead. “Did you see her fall?”

“No, but…” She scrubbed at her face. “We were all scared of Ser Barnabas, you know that. You know how much he liked to threaten hitting us. I didn’t see it, but Vincent, I think she’s dead.”

Vincent shook his head and sat back against the cavern wall. There was something building in his chest, a wail that wanted to break free and rip past his throat. “You have no proof though,” he said, trying to keep his voice calm as to not scare her. “You thought I was dead, but here I am. Roz is strong, and she’s clever. She had to have made it out of there alive. We have to hold onto the hope that she made it and she’s somewhere out in the world, just like we are.”

He took one look at Noemi and knew that she didn’t believe him, yet she nodded. “Okay.”

“We’re leaving here tomorrow morning. There’s a town, Redcliffe. Have you heard of it?”

Noemi shrank back from him. “No, you can’t make me go back there!”

“What’s wrong?”

“I was there. I took as many of the little ones as I could find after we scattered and we got on a boat. The older instructors said that Redcliffe was safe, but something in that town feels wrong. I made sure that the little ones were looked after, but then I snuck out in the middle of the night to find somewhere safer. I thought that I could go back, take the children with me to wherever I found, but…” she spread her hands as if to silently express the chaos around them. “They’re safer where they’re at for now, but I don’t want to go back. Please, don’t make me go back.”

Vincent winced as she huddled at his side, her entire body shaking. “Okay. Okay, we won’t go there, I promise.” He wrapped his arms around her, his mind whirring, desperately trying to focus on Noemi instead of the great yawning grief that threatened to swallow him whole. “Have you heard of the Crossroads? I don’t think it’s very far from here, we can make our way to that in the morning, okay?”

She nodded. “And look for Roz?”

Vincent squeezed his eyes tightly. There was no way that she was dead; she was such a fixture in his life, a lifeline even in the most peaceful of times. He loved her so completely that he was certain that he would have felt something, some sort of connection that tied his heart to hers sever, should she be truly gone.

He ran his hand soothingly over his former pupil’s back while trying to speak over the lump of unshed tears that had built in his throat. “Yes. And just you wait. We’ll find her.”

Maker, how he almost believed that.

[faimrpg]

Maccius arrives as it always does: with very little flair. Spring has fully settled now, and across Val Faim, trees blossom with pink and white flowers, nearly every merchant sets out grand bouquets in front of their displays to draw possible patrons in, and sailors return home from long excursions at sea to the arms of their loved ones—it is at this time of year that the Celestinian ocean is most peaceful. When Summer arrives, it will be so soft and lulling that the only way to move product to trade is by means of magic, and when winter comes, the waves will tower so tall any man who thinks to sail them will be dubbed out of his mind.

TRIGGER WARNING: Death, explosions, implied violence

Now, however, peace reigns. People settle back into their usual daily routines, and while the death of Hippolyte had been tragic, most are content to forget the event entirely. His blood was cleaned from the marble of the Summer Palace that same night—why should they carry his bones with them? It doesn’t take so much as a week before Hippolyte’s duty is replaced by someone else, who will tend the docks and its workers and ensure Val Faim gets what it needs. GHISLAIN in particular has taken much interest in this replacement, hoping to wring out of this execution whatever dor it will provide. A job on the top of the Azure Quarter, overseeing not only trade but also every writ of passage through the capital, is an incommensurate advantage. Maybe it’s crude to make a move so soon after a man’s demise, but Calandre’s word is holy: he was a traitor, and he got his due. Besides, the hunger for power consumes all else. Ghislain’s efforts come to the dismay of RÉGIS, who’d been hoping to wrangle a similar deal for themself, and become the new helmsman of the docks on behalf of Alain Gauthier.

Not all are content to return to the way things were—in fact, some find the idea abhorrent, and Alain has taken to tracking down those who speak with dissent about Calandre to a new level entirely. He has enlisted GISELE to pick out newfound dissidents, with a particular emphasis on ETIENNE. “Having someone as skilled as Etienne”, Alain explains, “certainly wouldn’t harm us, especially if they were already in our pocket.” As soon as Gisele is sent away with their goal, he calls for BEAU and explains in no uncertain words what he needs them to do, with a little bump in their pay to incentivize it.

Talk in the Underworld says that Hippolyte had some sort of allegiance to Widrowem, and that his plan was not to kill Calandre, but to warn her about Alain in order to earn Widrowem a foothold in Celestine’s court. Gauthier doesn't know how far back this scheme goes, or whether it has something to do with Widrowem’s insistence for Calandre to receive their ambassadors and listen to their offer.

Alain, as is ingrained in his nature, fears the worst. The Widrowish envoy has long whispered of the need to unite their two kingdoms in marriage, and Calandre sharply rebuked each of these attempts. It could very well be that Widrowem tired of waiting, and found another way to ingratiate themselves upon the throne. If BEAU could dig through Hippolyte’s abandoned townhouse in Hightown, there’s a chance they might find something of worth linking him back to the foreign southern kingdom. “Anything works,” Alain says, pressing a small purse of dor into Beau’s hands. “Journals, letters, ledgers, books—whatever you can find, take it. And one more thing: find PATRICE, ask for their help. They might be a noble scorned, but they’re noble regardless, and if you need to take your time looking, having someone from a high-standing house with you might save your neck. Tell them I sent you.” Whether BEAU needs to split their new wealth with PATRICE goes unsaid, because Alain is gone before anyone can think to ask him.

Across the city, LIANE listens intently as Calandre explains her next task for her esteemed spymaster, with CELESTE close behind: she, too, wants them to go rooting around in Hippolyte’s grand old house. Not to find any links to Widrowem, but to find what they can on Alain Gauthier, who the Empress thinks was pulling the strings behind Hippolyte’s poorly coordinated assassination attempt and untimely demise. She might have given the signal for the axe, but it was Gauthier who hung it overhead.

Standing on the balcony overlooking the gardens, with the air cool, the weather fair, and Calandre’s tone mild, it is difficult to recall that a month ago she had stood here and watched one of her detractor’s bodies burn on the Pyre.

It is the virtue of the Summer Palace’s unique positioning that gives all three of them a perfect view when a flash of light and fury shakes Val Faim. The very ground rumbles. In a heartbeat, bursts of flame and thick grey smoke rise up into the air, somewhere close to the Prophet’s Tomb—the Tomb is thankfully unharmed, alongside Odeline’s tall-towering figure. The city immediately drops into complete stillness. They are left to do nothing but watch as the smoke grows and grows and grows, and while the shaking hadn’t lasted longer than a few seconds, it seems to reverberate through their bodies, like the very foundation of the Palace had been shaken and reaped them along with it. Before the rubble even settles, Calandre is swept away by HECTOR and VICTOIRE, each of them hemming the Empress like wings of iron and steel. In their ruler’s wake, CELESTE and LIANE are left to simply stare at the coiling plumes on the horizon and tremble. They watch the ruins with their arms interlocked, as the smog carries over a bitter taste of omens and defeat. Even in this state, the two spies are already planning their next move. It is the life they’ve chosen.

SAINTE and AGRIPPINE bear the brunt of the shock. They are nearly taken off their feet when the explosion occurs, as they were just on the outskirts of the tomb. They help one another to their feet and rush to investigate. The city guards who join the scene are met with a perturbing sight. Rubble lies everywhere, windows of neighboring buildings blown out, and in the epicentre of the destruction stands a mage, shaken and trembling, arms wrapped around herself and desperately attempting to cover the body of her friend, both their faces streaked with soot.

“He didn’t mean to do it,” the mage cries, unwilling to let go of her compatriot as she is pulled away, even as his body goes limp among the stones. “Henri didn’t mean for any of this to happen!” The street is soon blocked off entirely, and stunned passersby are urged to visit the Tomb or the Lion’s Mane for a drink to soothe their spirits, much to the chagrin of DEGARÉ, who has more clientele on their hands than anyone could be reasonably prepared for in such a short window of time. Yet the deluge of customers entails lesser known advantages for the club’s proprietor—especially in times of despair, when purse strings are loose and tongues even looser.

MICHEL and CECILE are commanded to take point on the clean-up of the building. Michel is tasked with coordinating the guardsmen clearing away rubble. Cecile’s role is to smooth over the ruffled feathers of angered noblemen and politicians who come calling to ask why the pesky issue of a desolated building and a dead man in its grip have yet to be resolved by the Empress. It’s tricky work, with even trickier tempers to handle, but they see it done, and within three days of the incident, it is like it never happened. Where the building sat before, now there are only ruins, a barren foundation to be covered up and built upon again by someone with grander designs.

SIDONIE is called upon immediately by Calandre, once the Empress is informed of what happened, along with HELENE. They are to interrogate the surviving mage, and find out what was their purpose in the heart of her empire—and what they hoped to gain from splitting it open. Was the dead mage a madman, or a fool? Were they foreign assassins, an honorless path already trodden by so many of her enemies? Were they zealots of a hidden coven, whose aims to control magic got the better of them? On these questions their fate, and that of so many others, rests unevenly. When the two go to meet her, the woman, named Amelie, is shaken into stupor, entirely unwilling to speak. Not even Calandre’s favored advisors can get anything out of her. Calandre listens intently when she is informed of the matter, and dismisses the two with a simple wave of her hand. “If she won’t tell us directly, there will have to be another way to find out what happened.” It is as much an admonishment as it is an admittance of a dead end.

She does not tell them she has other resources to call upon, and call upon them she does. They come to Val Faim in the shape of ROTH, ADRASTE, and MEDRAUT: two Chevaliers, and one Chevalier-in-training, recalled back from the border of Widrowem to investigate the truth of what happened with the explosion, and whether Alain Gauthier had anything to do with it. MATTHIEU is sent to greet them, as the present superior of the knight order—yet he is quickly rebuffed by his own compatriots, who are apparently more loyal to each other than to their Empress.

The wound of the incident heals relatively quickly, as unspoken horrors do. The death of the man who was supposedly to blame is quick to soothe any worried souls, and Amelie, once she has come to her senses and understood the risk she was in, confirms it to SIDONIE when the other mage visits her in her cell. When she speaks, the girl’s eyes are wild: “Not all is what it seems. My friend only wanted to stop something awful before it began, and it cost him his life.”

That very same night, a faceless assassin attempts to kill SAVATIER in the deepest recesses of the library—only for ISEULT to spear them down from behind a shadowed pillar before they have a chance to draw blood. By morning, Amelie has mysteriously disappeared. Investigations into her vanishing bear no fruit, save for a farewell letter the mage left for her family, now fallen into the hands of VIOLAINE. Amelie was from a noble house: if VIOLAINE wanted to, they could reach out on her behalf and deliver the letter, or they could keep it for later blackmail.

In the midst of all this chaos, Calandre finds herself desperate for a distraction, and can see that her court may very well feel the same. She writes to one of Celestine’s most famed artists, and by the end of the week, SYLVIANE has returned from their expedition into the Obsidienne, alongside their bodyguard, VASKA. Calandre orders them to enliven the palace grounds and paints a series of murals depicting her reigns’ latest achievements—as well as a new portrait to replace the one she had commissioned when she first seized the throne. It is a clever reminder that sometimes a gilded foil hides real triumph beneath. Yet SYLVIANE & VASKA have not come empty-handed, nor are they tongue-tied before Calandre’s command. They are determined to inform the Empress about the concerning sights they’ve witnessed in the Obsidienne. Yet all these attempts are brushed away, first as baubles of passing interest, then as outright fantasies spurned by the solitude of the scorched desert. The shapes of dead bodies awakened to walk, or rifts in the very fabric of the air that shimmer and wrinkle like human skin, and lead to nowhere should a soul step through, are torn from a different cloth than Calandre’s designs for her progressive reign. These old wives tales might be of interest to others: courtiers and commoners alike, such as SIDONIE, SAINTE & AGRIPPINE flock to listen to the painter’s tales. All Calandre does when she is remembered of these discoveries is flatten her mouth into a tight, disapproving line. Some overlook how the Empress’s moods are darkening by the hour.

Not everyone can turn a blind eye to her displeasure, especially those closest to her retinue. CYRIL is witness to Calandre’s frayed nerves firsthand, when ZHENYA pressures the Empress that the North will need more incentive if they are to maintain their trade deal with Val Faim. They are quickly dismissed from her side, and they run into the imperial tailor on the fringe of the hallways. Neither of them can help but eavesdrop on the sobbing fit Calandre falls prey to when she thinks she is alone for the first time. Something is breaking, but neither of them know what, and the decision about whom to ask for help lands in muddied waters. MELODIE, her closest confidante, seems the most obvious choice to be called at her side for comfort, but will Calandre thank them, or resent them for having her weakness noticed and exposed?

In Emperor Tristan’s days, talk spread as fast as a wildfire bracketed by dry grass. While Calandre’s reign has seen some of that blood-hungering cease, the sharks remain desperate for whatever falls into the water, and that hunger has not vanished entirely. It does not take long for many others to discover that Calandre might not be faring as well as she presents herself, in spite of the grand dinners and parties she has hosted in the Summer Palace to try and distract herself.

ROSALIND is one of the first outside of ZHENYA and CYRIL to find out, a not-so-well-kept secret falling right into the palms of their hands. The information goes from them to Alain—who is pleased to be informed. In an effort to secure their loyalty, he gives ROSALIND a task. “See if you engage YVON in a little tête-à-tête, and find out where their true loyalties lie. Lure them on our side, but only promise them enough to prove a guiding light. They are still young and mercurial enough that they must believe the choice is their own. Do this, and I’ll see if I can coordinate a certain royal jeweler’s fall from grace by the time Aude is through.” He leaves them there in the bustling Silver Quarter to make the choice on how to proceed on their own.

Secrets are unearthed, vows and oaths amassed—old debts are summoned up like the souls of the dead, and new scores are forged from thin air. For a while, it seems that Val Faim is pitching to a critical point, a colossus capsizing on its own weight. The threads roped around its people tangle and thrum. And then the skein seems to unsnarl. It lies very still, too much distance between its knots to ever properly destabilize it. The tapestry of faith and power has weathered more tempestuous times than this. The wind smooths over the dust, the storm slackens, and even the spring becomes spring once more. It’s on this day that the tides turn for good.

A Widrowem ship is spotted on the quiet sea, its sails as white as bones. Two ambassadors, themselves of noble lineage in those intricate Widrowish ways, where Gods are ancestors and night is day, step on the shore. CASSIAN and ROWAN have been sent to Val Faim on a mission that feels almost sacred. Yet their Thane’s anger, the chosen ruler of their realm, has nothing holy in it. Their homeland was promised a treaty and a throne years ago. So far, not a single audience has been granted, and this strange Empress balks at marriage as if it were carnage. To add the salt of insult to an open injury, their most trusted man in court was murdered without the right to trial. Hippolyte was gutted for spectacle, a debacle that echoed the barbarians of centuries ago.

It’s Widrowem’s duty to put an end to tyrants. And that is what they came to do.

On that bone-sailed, hollowed-out ship rides another: KARINE, Alain Gauthier's closest compatriot in bloodshed. They, too, have been summoned from Widrowem with a similar purpose. With a hungry smile that cuts their jaw wider, they shake hands with Gauthier on the dock as he pulls them aside. They have business, and if there is anything KARINE thrives at, it is anything to do with death. Imagine their surprise, then, when they are tasked with a more simple duty. Not to kill, but to hunt. Amelie remains unfound, in a city packed to the brim with people, and no one trusts Alain enough yet in the Underworld to give him information of any worth. So he sets his favored assassin on the trail, and tells them not to return until they have what he needs in their grasp.

The stage is set, the spotlight positioned perfectly, the doors to the theater wide open to allow a spring breeze to flow through. Underneath that sweet scent is an undeniable trace of rot. With Widrowem Ambassadors on the scene, their expectations low and ambitions high, and warnings and whispers working their way through the Court—the show has truly begun. Hippolyte's death at Calandre’s command was a mere prelude. What happens now may very well change the fate of all those in Val Faim, forever.

Welcome to our second event! We realize this one is even lengthier than the first, so below, you’ll find a simplified summary and a timestamp breaking down important dates for the month. Like the first event, feel free to thread out flashbacks, continue your threads from the Anniversary timestamp at your leisure, and explore what your character might be up to throughout the month outside of where they’re mentioned in the event. It’s definitely a busy one!

SUMMARY: It’s Maccius, and springtime has officially arrived in Val Faim. What would be a relatively peaceful start to the season otherwise kicks off with catastrophe when a building explodes extremely close to the Prophet’s Tomb. Only one person dies, a man named Henri, who’d apparently been the cause of the explosion, but the details are murky. The only other individual who could provide any information explaining what happened, Amelie, is brought in to be spoken with but gives up nothing before eventually disappearing into thin air. All the while, Alain Gauthier is scheming in the background, trying to take advantage of both Hippolyte’s execution and the chaos caused by the explosion to get a step ahead.

He calls for one of his allies, KARINE, and asks them to help put the pieces together. Alongside KARINE come two Ambassadors from the not-so-far-away Widrowem, ROWAN and CASSIAN are here to negotiate a marriage contract between Widrowem’s Thane and Calandre… or to see if war might be the next best option, as Calandre’s stubbornness over the years has not improved. Calandre, wanting to lighten the mood in the Summer Palace and distract both herself and courtiers from these gloomy events, summons SYLVIANE to come to Val Faim and paint a beautiful new mural as a tribute to Celestine’s strength. With SYLVIANE is their bodyguard, VASKA. Less famous are the three Chevaliers Calandre brings back from the border of Widrowem to investigate the explosion and members of her court. ROTH, ADRASTE, and MEDRAUT might all be a little on the prickly side, but they’re here to see the rough work done. There is a general air of tension to the city. It feels like most people are waiting for the other shoe to drop.

TIMESTAMPS:

The Second of Maccius: The explosion occurs. Henri is dead, and Amelie is brought in to help figure out what happened.

The Sixth of Maccius: The rubble from the explosion is officially cleared away. Sylviane and Vaska arrive to paint Calandre’s mural.

The Twelfth of Maccius: Roth, Adraste, and Medraut make it to Val Faim and are set to the task of figuring out why Henri set the explosion off, how he did it, and where Amelie went. Calandre has given them full reign of the city and those they speak to for details.

The Nineteenth of Maccius: Karine, Cassian, and Rowan arrive in Val Faim. Karine is here on business for Alain Gauthier, but Cassian and Rowan’s goals are much more political.

If you have any questions pertaining to the event, please drop them in the Discord channel! If you need any help plotting, or getting things started, please reach out and we’ll see what I can do to help. The new characters (Roth, Adraste, Medraut, Karine, Cassian, Rowan, Sylviane, and Vaska) are all open for applications. Their skeletons will be posted throughout the day. Thank you again, to all of you, and happy one month of being open!

[rpgchoices]

Heaven’s Vault Part 4: Investigating the Age of Sail sites

(as always, spoilers for the whole game)

Aliya can collect some information about the existence of two sites that date to the AGE OF SAIL.

From AMADU, Aliya receives a power core for robots that come from an AGE OF SAIL site. Furthermore, Aliya finds an enormous ship in the DIGGING SITE that leads her to believe that before the empire people were normally travelling with bigger ships than ever. Ships that could transport goods and people themselves. This is new information to her, and we know that Enkei destroyed historical records, so the existence of the Age of Steel and the Age of Sail was destroyed.

There are two sites that Aliya can trace: Amadu’s observatory and the Ancient Market (traced from the destroyed ship that Renba found).

AMADU’S OBSERVATORY

Aliya finds an enormous crater that has been built with metals and materials facilitating the conduction of heat. The crater is overseen by a statue of the Sky God, with a coin (from the Market Moon) left as (probably) an offer.

Six adds that the place never had any natural water.

The crater has ramps, and soon Aliya finds a small building with ramps as well. The building clearly houses the control station and was worked by robots.

The crater stores the CRYSTALS that Aliya and Renba found on the crashed age of sail ship. These crystals store gravity manipulation. It could be that in the age of sail ships used these crystals for better exploration and navigation, and this was a HARBOR where ships could recharge their crystals. 

This HARBOR was clearly an important point of crossing and travelling, and the words on the crater say:

Aliya also finds a control station, a building with control panels and ramps (no stairs) which was clearly used by robots. We know that the Age of Sail happened before the Steel Age, so during the Age of Sail robots were extensively used to maintain and control facilities. 

In the building, Aliya also finds a signal beacon that seems to track to a distant place, furthermore there are telescope positions.

It seems like sailing was much more common during the age of sail, and this could have been a harbor. On the roof, the writing on the telescope says: "The stars never deceive". Maybe the station was also used to map the rivers and the stars. Another option is that the station was used not to map rivers, but to CHANGE rivers, and facilitate trade and travelling. Stars would be the fixed points.

It could also be that being a harbor, there was a lot of commerce (a coin left as an offering for the god, and the phrase "Sell before you Buy" on the side of the little building), or that the trade was in maps and rivers positions, or recharging crystals.

The panels in the building (worked by robots) controlled the temperature of the floor and, probably, the gravity and maybe the flow of rivers.

Near the window there's a curious inscription. The word I translated as master has the symbol for robots, leading Aliya to believe that robots were in charge. It could be that robots were also monitoring the darkness (rivers disappearing), and thus Masters is the terminology for the AI/Gods?

Later, Six confirms that the OBSERVATORY and the HIDEOUT MOON both had tripods for telescopes and are aligned, suggesting a triangulation of sort and a third telescope place.

If you return to Amadu with the news of no robots, he will tell you where he found his servos/robots. They were on a boat in the Withering Ways. The crew was all robots (servos, so no projected face) and they were sailing around the same point, always on the same trajectory. Amadu's theory is that the robots had two conflicting goals, and going round was the result of that. This is the STEEL SITE (next part of the list!).

Continuing Aliya’s investigation in the Age of Sail, the next site is a MARKET MOON. Using the information from Renba's digging site. This is also the city where the coin found in the Observatory came from. This is a marketplace from the Age of Sail, confirming that the age of sail was a great age of trading. Stalls have short annotations like "Come within", confirming that this was a place of trade.

The gate also worked with a hopper, which probably confirms that hoppers were used quite commonly during the age of sail (and maybe the ancient age). 

Six confirms that the stonework is 1 and a half thousand years.

Some of the objects found seem to come from ancient times (ex. perfume bottles), as the shell necklace on the Hideout Moon. It could be that these objects were sold as ancient objects during the age of sail, this also confirms that trading and travelling between ancient lost sites and these trading moons could have been quite common. 

On the market Aliya also finds the Serpent God statue, a merchant goddess. It is safe to believe that by the Age of Sail no one had any idea of what Heaven’s Vault was, and gods were commonly accepted as true gods.

There is also a symbol for the EAGLE AND THE SUN, which is usually typical for the empire, but clearly predates it. Aliya will later find out that the EAGLE represent the AI system of Heaven’s Vault ship, and the sun probably represents the ship itself.

At one point Six will see or hear something and once he'll reached the THEATER he says that "it led me here again". He specifies that he doesn't mean with Renba, but before he was awakened. It meant that the Empress probably visited the theater and the market. It could be that this market moon was still used during age of steel/early empire times or that the empress explored the Nebula (we know that she sent people to find ancient sites).

Six says “every time”. As we know foils were probably layered, it could be that Six could have traces of its initial ancient recording (activated with SLISET), and then the empress, and then Renba’s journey. Each one wiped out.

If asked for clarification, Six will narrate a story. Six explains that once upon a time there was a King. He had three daughters, they were jealous and thought the king loved one more than the others. They all killed the king (knife, poison) but the third daughter chose the most cruel method: putting the king in a crack in the wall. It could be that this was how the Withering Palace's hopper was used for the first time. Maybe the first Empress killed her father with it. And because she dreamt of him berating her for her flaws, she decided to become a god.

The fact that she found no pleasure in being queen, could mean that she needed to be a goddess to find satisfaction.

The whole story in some versions is this: "I remember a King. A king with an iolite crown. His judgement were fair, he was much loved. But his daughter schemed against him. Each daughter thought he loved another more. Resentment festered... until each killed him in a different way. Slow poison, a knife in the back. But the youngest daughter's method was the cruellest. She hoppered her father into a crack in the palace stonework. She became queen but she never found any pleasure in it. She was plagued by her father's voiced, inside the walls... berating her for her flaws."

In my opinion, this confirms that the King was probably the first emperor, or the last king of the steel age, and Six remembers how Enkei killed him. (or could be a king, but not Enkei's father, just the paternal figute of the ruler). The fact that he was much loved, leads me to think that he was the real first emperor instead of a king in the age of steel.

Six also adds something else: "The king weeping when he knew he had been murdered." Maybe the King was the first experiment of the empress?

Six also remembers of a woman shipwrecked. She wrote her name on boards and left them in the Nebula, hoping to be rescued. When a sailor rescued her, she had lost her mind because of loneliness. I have no idea who she might be, it could be that maybe Six had previously been the helper robot of this woman, or that this woman was used by the empress to experiment the foil technology, so she was partially written on Six's foil, before it was used for the empress herself?

Continuing the exploration, in the market, Aliya starts to find traces of someone living there and soon finds a boy stranded. He is from Elboreth and spoke a bad word, which is a word of ancient, to the Gate, showing that Elboreth is probably incredibly ancient and many places were connected to it (even Heaven's Vault, so Elboreth was probably created at the beginning of the colonization of the Nebula and hoppers were probably commonly used to travel during the age of sail).

The boy, Aamir, has no family so Aliya can leave him on Maersi, to be adopted by the people there. 

When she comes back to visit him, Aamir is elaborating his time on the abandoned moon, thinking pigs talk with him. He shows to Aliya a symbol he surely read on the moon, which is "Activate hopper" and is read IFARALI. The boy also writes "Heaven's Vault must be found", and this is the first time Aliya hears about Heaven's Vault and she believes it to be the Observatory Renba was looking for. Aamir also noticed that there are no children on Maersi.

Interrogating the first villager about the children, he confirms that his ancerstors on Maersi used to sail the rivers (we know that is true because hermits sailed the rivers), but Iox destroyed all their ships. He adds that they had all the children the moon had to offer. Aliya also noticed that there are no children on Iox either. Could this be because of inbreeding? If the first settlements were on Elboreth, Elboreth might have better mix of outbred individuals, more fit and able to reproduce.

[phthalology]

Dishonored: Balaenoptera levante

Billie Lurk teaches the Outsider how to sail. Gen, 1600 words, Post-Death of the Outsider. Available on AO3 here.

Billie Lurk expected the Outsider to have an affinity for the sea, so when he sat silent at the bow long after they passed the algae-stained buoys she began to worry.

Little wonder if those worries were of the monsters and superstition kind. Wet tendrils could fall over the gunwales, mollusks could sprout shells black and cracking adhered to the sail, pulling it down with the weight of their oozes. No matter that it was a humid spring and out past the waves the water was calm and oily-flat. The creature sailors prayed to, the red at night and red in the morning, sat in front of her looking faintly seasick.

The world did not change around him. The air did not shudder, did not turn to gray glass. Instead, the Outsider reminded Billie of Emily after she had washed up on the Dreadful Wale, ragged and round-shouldered and angry. As with her, Billie had offered the leviathan what food she could scrounge, half-gone apples and cheese sweating in its skin.

Somehow, Billie Lurk had made it a habit of rescuing people.

This one had proved a maladaptive rescue. Whether because of a sort of reality-shock or because he had for too long been used to speaking as the mouthpiece for the all-seeing Eye, the Outsider had not spoken much. He had eaten in her scrounged flat and trailed along behind her when she went to the docks to untie a boat abandoned for now by one of the wealthy and frightened aristocrats evacuated from around the Conservatory. The Abbey was not using this boat. Billie Lurk smirked to think about what the Abbey was, as a unit, doing right now.

“What should we name the boat?” Billie said. “The Dreadful Wale was an anagram.”

The Outsider did not turn to look at her. His disused voice was thin and many-toned like the oil on the water.

“Farewell Void?” Billie pressed.

“Except that you were fond of Daud.”

Yes. By the — yes, she had been. When Daud had leaned over to whisper that coughing name in the Outsider’s ear she had already started to forget the actual tactile fact of him, of this surrogate father who had once held a sword to her throat. She had hated and loved him in such equal measure that the impressions had alchemetized together into an emotion that she figured might be called familial loyalty.

“True,” she said. “It should be something I want to remember. And I don’t have ��” She paused as she realized it. “…as much to hide now.” Emily Kaldwin was willing to be her benefactor — not that Billie would take the charity, but it was there like a purse. She didn’t have to worry about cut strings. The other people who might want to strike her down, namely the witches, were dead and scattered. The cultists were spooked by their own visions, since she had ghosted their captive right out under their haunted noses. It still felt strange to be able to see the Outsider in the real world, in his funeral/rebirth clothes.

“So what do you think you’ll do next?” she asked. They were further out now, the wind going strong enough that she had to hardly do more than sit straight as she adjusted the sail with one hand and gripped the small tiller in the crook of her other arm. The splintered edges of the boat were brown and green with old wood and algae.

“I want to speak to the empress,” he said. “I want to tell her … to rein in the whalers. They all know the pods are leaving. But she needs to find those people other work, to allow the sea to rest after its beating.”

“That’s the most optimistic thing I’ve ever heard you say.”

“I wasn’t impartial. I just …” He cupped one pale hand over his eyes. “I just want her to say that she’ll do it.”

He had been going to say something else. Maybe he had trouble talking without knowing the back and forth of time, without being able to conjure hearts of living things out of the smoky dark. Did he feel limited now, or revived? He had been going to talk about the thing with eyes worse than his.

“That black eye in the mine,” Billie said. “Even the rats hated it. What in the Void was that?”

She paused. “It doesn’t feel right to curse that way any more. It’s too real.”

Those shadow creatures made of knives had stalked below while she clung to the tapered chain of a candelabra.

The Outsider hesitated before he spoke. “I don’t know. By the Void.” He tried it out, a chuckle hovering on his mouth. “The Void doesn’t promise anything. It eats promises. But it also coexists with the genius and mercy of those who would defy it.”

He still spoke like an orator. Somehow, if he went to the most shadowed and web-ridden blackmarket house on the underbelly of Karnaca, he would still speak like this. The proprietor would doff their hat and feel honored. Billie began to feel twitchy. “What do you think it will do next?”

“It doesn’t have intentions in the way you or I do. I’m still trying to figure out what it is without me.”

Or what he was without it. They sailed in uncomfortable silence for a few minutes, until they were far enough out that Billie feared they would lose track of the shore. She needed to do something else other than watch the horizon and feel for the wind. “Do you want to sail?”

“I don’t think I know how.”

“Sit here.”

He did not have his sea legs, and clambered crabwise. Luckily he did not have far to go. She showed him the tiller and the lines. She had already told him to watch his head around the boom. He was a quiet, serious, attentive student who sat so still that it alarmed her. He moved like a clockwork soldier shorn of weapons, stilt-legged and uncertain of his own composition. When cold water splashed his legs and his hands he did not seem to mind, just wiped at it the black spots once or twice and returned to his position. Billie herself was beginning to get cold, to reconsider the idea of sailing without a destination. Her Void-given hand was weighted differently now, metal and leather instead of something that flickered out of the corner of her vision. Only the whitecaps flickered.

Her crystal eye had become cloudy, more difficult to use to see wide landscapes. Gray fogs dotted it like tarnished silver. She could still read the sea, though, still knew that the evening would be calm and clear but too cold for comfort out here. A stolen boat and a stolen bed. She would like for more than the name of the Dreadful Wale to be hers, now. Things had changed and her safe house needed to be safer, but Billie Lurk also felt that she was in charge of the change in a way that she had never been even in the Wale. Oh, people would want to torture her for the information about the person sitting in front of her. Oh, they would never know. She had ghosted her way through the mine, and … maybe Emily Kaldwin was a good next step.

The Outsider flinched. The tiller drifted as his hand sprung open. As soon as Billie took it back he shot her a look of apologetic fear, then ducked again as the boom swung. The tiller resisted slightly in Billie’s left hand, the shush of the water deepening as resistance increased and the boat turned. Still well in control, she followed the direction of the Outsider’s odd green gaze.

A whale floated on the surface, its back as round as a river rock and the slight eddies of the water around its tentacles the only suggestion of the bulk underneath.

“Steer clear of them in a boat this size,” Billie said, wrenching her thoughts back from the Void to her new student.

“I will.”

“Do you … recognize them?”

The Outsider paused. “They don’t deserve what was done to them. But nor do the people who live here have total cause to believe they are innocent. The whales are kin to other things.“

“What things?” Billie looked down at the spots of black water on the side of the boat.

“In the Void, I was afraid all the time. You saw the Eye.”

“I couldn’t help but see it.”

“It looked into me all the time, inverted and inward-seeing, doubled back in on itself. The fear was the worst because …I had the sense that it came from me, from a different me.” He pressed against his sternum with a closed fist. “This me. The fear was the only thing from this world that could go there, but still I hated it. Or, not the only thing. It and the whales.”

The Outsider looked at her. His own new eyes looked too wide for his face, making his age even more difficult to determine than it had been in the other world. “I don’t think you need to name this boat, Billie Lurk.”

"I think you’re right. I’ll see about taking you to the empress.” Both Billie and the ancient boy would have debts to work out with her.

Billie turned smoothly back toward the shore, the heavy canvas tugging on the lines. They would sail back and go to her apartment, would eat and drink like mortal people without prices on their heads. Maybe both of them were priceless now, to the Abbey and to the Void that would slowly reorganize itself around its thousand-years-pearl. Maybe she was free of the relentless taxonomizing of names for a while. Maybe both she and the Outsider would find new ones.

[royaltyjunk]

Flower of Light [T, Camus/Nyna and Camus/Tatiana]

Summary:

“Yes.” And then she’d spoken - spoken of small white lilies that children had tucked behind her ear, of a handful of lilies pressed into her hands, of petals that trailed behind her in the wind.

Author’s Ideas: YA GIRL AVIETTA HERE TO SUFFER IN HELL

Why do I always come up with these sorts of things that make me die inside

I’M SORRY OKAY but it’s not that much angst so??? This is??? Fine??? I guess???

Also, I’m sorry, but flower and season motifs are my j a m you will not stop me from using them

As always, readable on FanFiction.

Disclaimer: Obviously I don’t own Fire Emblem, or any of the canon content or dialogue that appears in this fic. Warning: THERE’S A LOT OF THAT.

Ever since she’d taken the throne, Nyna had insisted on planting lilies in the royal garden.

“Lilies?” Hardin had asked, and a bittersweet smile had flashed across Nyna’s face.

“Yes.” And then she’d spoken - spoken of small white lilies that children had tucked behind her ear, of a handful of flowers pressed into her hands, of petals that trailed behind her in the wind.

Hardin scoured the land for those flowers that Nyna had spoken so fondly of, and when the summer had ended, Nyna shook her head.

“They bloom all summer long, and then no longer.”

A year passed, and when the next summer came, a wistful look possessed Nyna for days on end, a look that had not gone unnoticed by Hardin, who continued to look frantically for those special lilies.

In the last days of the eighth month, Hardin rushes into her room, a smile on his face.

“Nyna!” He exclaims happily, and the empress turns around.

“Did you-” Nyna cuts herself off, her eyes widening upon the sight of familiar flowers, grasped in Hardin’s hands. She stretches out her fingers, brushing her nails gently against the soft petals of the lilies.

“…They’re wilting,” Nyna whispers.

“Summer is ending,” Hardin counters, tucking a small flower behind her ear. “Nyna…”

“What is it?” She murmurs, looking away. There’s a feeling in her gut that twists and pulls at her heart. Nyna knows what he’s going to ask.

“These flowers… we found them in Grust.”

She flinches visibly, and Hardin’s eyes grow cold.

“Why do you know these flowers?”

She stays silent and turns her back to her lord husband.

“You love another, don’t you?”

Nyna freezes, and there’s a tense silence between the two.

“…I see.” Hardin’s voice is terse. “…I’m sorry.” The empress closes her eyes and hears Hardin turn and walk away.

“Please, forgive me…” Nyna whispers. “Camus… I’m sorry.” She opens her eyes and turns around. Her eyes catch the bundle of flowers thrown to the ground. The princess kneels to pick it up, running her fingers along the wilting petals of the lilies.

“Next summer,” she promises.

The next summer never comes for her.

~ / . / . / ~

There is a gentle breeze, a warm wind that cascades over his face and ruffles his hair. He stares up at the moon, but shakes his head.

“I must not be distracted tonight…” he murmurs under his breath, and hurries away from the village, running along the hill until he spots the port along the edge of Rigel Village.

He hopes that there are sailors, true sailors who can take him where he wants.

Zeke rushes into the harbor, spotting an old man tying ropes from the ship to kegs along the port. The old man looks up at the sound of footsteps, and his face brightens with a look of fright.

“General Ezekiel…?” The gold knight skids to a stop before the him

“Grust,” he breathes, “Do you know where Grust is?”

The old man nods furiously, and he smiles.

“Good. Take me there.” Zeke climbs onto the boat and drops two bags of silver marks into the old man’s open hands.

“But General Ezekiel… we will have to-”

“I don’t care how long it takes. Just get me there.” He makes for the stairs that lead below the deck, but turns back to the old sailor. “And not a word of this to Tatiana. From you or your crew.” He sweeps his gaze across the deck of the large boat, and the crew flinches under his harsh gaze. With a nod to the old man, he slips under the deck.

Slowly, he makes his way down the small halls, peeking through the doors until he finds an empty room. He sheds his black longcoat and kicks off his boots, pulling the sheets off the bed and falling onto it.

He lets his eyes close, but he knows the nightmares that will be waiting for him when he falls asleep. Ghastly nightmares that haunted him even before he remembered, dreams of the sea and before that, of something piercing his body, of a bright boy with blue hair, of a beautiful woman with long hair the color of summer in Grust.

He jolts up as the ship begins to move, forehead drenched in sweat. He’d fallen asleep.

“Nyna…” he whispers, a hand pressed against the side of his head. He curls into the wall beside his boat and lets the gentle rocking of the boat lull him to a dreamless, black sleep.

~ / . / . / ~

“Ahh… I’ve done something terrible. I was too foolish…” Nyna wraps her arms around herself, shivering. Her vision is dark and blank. “I hurt Hardin… I drove him to despair.”

“My queen…” A gentle, yet familiar voice drifts through her contorted veil of thoughts, and reassuring hands were pressed on her shoulders. “Prince Marth has ended Hardin’s suffering. The emperor loved you till the very end. He was sorry for what he’d done to you. It’s alright now. You need not worry. It was all just a bad dream…”

“…Who…?” The blackness ebbs away, and a blur of gold and black greets her. “Oh…! You’re…” Her vision sharpens, and the resulting figure with golden hair in a black coat confirms her thoughts. The strange white mask over his eyes does nothing to deter her suspicions. “Camus…!? Camus! Why… Why are you… This is a dream, isn’t it?”

“Nngh!” He withdraws his hands, folding them together and looking away. “…My queen… You are mistaken… I am Sirius, a soldier of the allied forces. I know not of this Camus…”

“Sirius…!? It can’t be…!” Nyna cries, grasping at his shoulders and arms desperately. “No! You’re wrong! You’re…”

“Please, calm yourself.” Sirius insists, gently prying her fingers from his shoulders. “You must be exhausted. I must depart soon. Queen Nyna, listen to me… You should head to Prince Marth.”

“You… Where are you going?” She asks quietly, gripping his hands tighter. He stands, pulling the princess to her feet.

“I must go to my country. There’s…” his voice fades, and even though his eyes are hidden, she can see a glimmer in his eyes. Of what, she does not know. “…someone waiting for me.”

“Is… Is that so…?” Her grip falters in his hands. “I see… Sirius… Thank you.” Despite the terror and the sickness clawing at her heart, yelling at her to say something, to do something, she smiles. “I am most grateful.”

She hears Sirius’s breath catch in his throat, and he gulps. “…Forgive me…” He whispers under his breath, his eyes drilling into hers through the slits in his mask.

“Pardon…!?” Nyna feels herself take in a sharp breath, hope and indescribable emotions sparking inside of her.

“No… it is nothing…” He shakes his head, and lets his hands cup her cheeks, gently caressing her pale skin before jerking his hands away, pulling her hand into his. “Now, Queen Nyna, go!”

He pushes her behind him and grips his other hand around Gradivus. Her fingers linger against his palm, and after a moment of silence, she withdraws her hand and dashes to the back of the battlefield, followed by Maria, Elice, and Lena.

The bundles of fresh lilies in her dress pocket is missing by one.

~ / . / . / ~

The boat rocks gently under Sirius’s feet, soothing the sharp pounding in his heart.

His hands itch for something to hold onto. He had abandoned the lances and swords at the port in Furia, intent on sailing home with no sign of where he’d been. He’d tell her. He didn’t need to show her. She’d believe him. He wouldn’t have to tell her about the empress, he wouldn’t have to break her heart.

That was all he wanted. To keep his gruesome past away from her.

The boat jolts to a stop, and his fingers tighten around the railing of the boat. Slowly, the plank touches the port.

“We’re here,” the pirate captain says from his place behind his wheel, and he nods.

“Thank you,” Sirius murmurs, smiling at the man before he clambers off the boat.

His feet hit the stone port, and he slowly reaches upwards, slipping his mask off the face and tucking it into his coat pocket.

There’s a strange feeling, blossoming in his chest. He knows it all too well. It’s the feeling that struck him when he touched down in Grust, that strange inexplicable feeling.

He pushes it aside and walks into the the One Kingdom’s Harbor.

The sun is well on its way to setting, and many people from the marketplace to their homes. Down dirt paths and farther into forests.

There’s a collective moment of bustling activity, and then a calmly familiar voice rises above the soft din of the townspeople.

“Welcome back, General Ezekiel,” Lukas pushes his way forward, smiling.

The townsfolk within earshot turn immediately, their eyes lighting up as they see the man.

“Lukas, what are you doing here?” Zeke blinks. “Weren’t you assigned to Tatiana’s side in my place?”

“Yes. It just so happens, she came here today to help with injuries. There was a skirmish with Terrors earlier.”

“Tatiana is here?” His head shoots up, looking around wildly.

“General Ezekiel, this way!” A young lady waves him over to a large house in the courtyard with doors wide open.

He ducks through the doorway even though it is tall enough for him to run through it without hitting his head, and comes face to face with Tatiana.

Her staff clatters to the ground, and her mouth hangs open.

“Zeke?” Tatiana whimpers. “Zeke… Zeke, that’s really you, isn’t it…? Oh, Zeke!” She sobs, flinging her arms around the man in front of her. “You’re here… you’re really here, it’s really you…”

“My love… Tatiana, my love, I’m so sorry… I’m so very sorry…” He whispers into her hair, burying his face against the top of her head. She presses her cheek against his chest, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“You… jerk!” Tatiana squeezes her arms tighter around his waist. “You leave me in the middle of the night, and don’t tell me! I… I was so worried…” she breaks down again, whimpering.

“Tatiana…” he lets go of her, brushing her hair from her forehead and pressing a kiss against it.

“I…” she scrunches her eyes shut and looks up at him. “Please, let’s go home.”

“Of course, my love…” he runs his fingers through her green hair, and she smiles up at him, pulling him out of the house.

The sunset’s pink light floods his eyes, and he stops for a moment, letting go of her hand to stare out at the glittering sea, out at the land where he’d spent most of his life on with a girl the hair color of a morning summer sun.

Those summer days with Nyna are over, and when he dares to look over his shoulder, he does not see the face that has haunted him, nor does he hear the tormented screams that used to call for him.

“Zeke!”

Tatiana is already skipping down the port, her eyes twinkling with happiness.

Zeke smiles, pinching his fingers around the petals of the small summer flower in his pocket. Withdrawing his hand from his coat, he follows after Tatiana, catching her hand. She giggles, practically dragging him down the harbor. The wind kicks at his black coat, and he hurries after her.

The white petals of a small summer flower float after him, swept away with the breeze, drifting away in the sea.

~ / . / . / ~

There they were. Wilted, dried, and shriveled, but they were there.

Nyna bundled her skirts in her arms, slowly wading out into the glittering sea that held the flowers she so very loved. She bends down, gently fishing them from the water. They’re wilted and crushed, all separated into singular petals.

Understanding and anger clocks her, and she scoffs.

“I see… Very well then, Camus… Sirius…”

Footsteps sound from above her, and she clenches her fist.

“Sister Neina!” A young girl calls from the top of the oceanside cliff. “It’s mealtime!”

She turns, smiling. “I’ll be right there.”

Nyna lets the footsteps fade away, her fingers clasped tightly around the wilted lily petals she had fished from the ocean. Slowly, she uncurls her fist, looking at the small flower bits in her palm.

There’s a fond feeling in her heart, a happiness and a joyfulness remembering those days with him, but the rage builds up in her, the rage and understanding of his actions.

She tosses them back into the ocean and leaves the beach, her feet leaving footprints in the white sands.

~ / . / . / ~

Zeke wakes to the sound of Celica screaming and someone else pounding on his door.

“Sir Zeke! Lady Tatiana! Get up!” It’s Leon, a man from Queen Celica’s army in the days of Zofia and Rigel. “The king and queen are being attacked!”

“What!?” He’s up in a flash. Tatiana is already wrapping a cloak around her nightdress and grabbing her staff.

“Come quickly! There are too many enemies! We’re being overwhelmed!” Leon’s voice gradually gets softer, and Zeke can tell by the pitter patter of footsteps that he’s running away - likely to get more allies or join in the fray.

“Your coat…” Tatiana murmurs, draping the black longcoat onto his shoulders. “…and Gradivus.”

Zeke pulls his hands through the sleeves of his coat, and Tatiana pushes Gradivus into his open palms. He smiles, kissing her forehead.

“Thank you, love.”

Tatiana smiles back before taking him by the hand. “Come on, now! We’ve got some saving to do!”

“Right behind you,” Zeke reassures as they sprint out of their room. They burst into the hallway, and Tatiana pulls him towards the throne room.

“There’s fighting coming from there, not their bedroom!” she explains when seeing the confused look on Zeke’s face.

“Lead on, my love,” he nudges gently, and she continues to drag him down the large castle hall. Leon, Gray, and Clair fall into step beside them.

As they approach the throne room, the door blows open. Instantly, Leon has an arrow nocked in his bow, and Gray is drawing his Brave Sword. Zeke steps in front of Tatiana, but they both jump back as the body of a sniper blasts through the doors.

All of them ignore the corpse, rushing into the throne room.

It’s pandemonium. Terrors fill the room, gargoyles swooping down to attack any unsuspecting victims. The Falchion, gleaming from its place in King Alm’s hand, is coated in blood. The Beloved Zofia tears its way out of an enemy sage. Lukas blocks a swing from an enemy myrmidon, and Leon lets the arrow fly loose, killing the myrmidon in one hit.

“Zeke!” Alm sighs with relief. “Thank goodness you’re here. I don’t know what’s happening anymore. I think these are…”

“Lord Alm!” Tatiana cries, Seraphim bubbling from her hands as she blasts the spell. It barely harms the opponent, but Alm turns, his sword raised.

“What the!?” Alm grunts, blocking the Dread Fighter’s blow with the Falchion.

“They’re Duma Faithful!” Celica yells, Ragnarok swelling in her hand.

“I thought we were done with those guys!” Leon groans.

“I suppose not…” Sonya grits her teeth from her place in front of the throne. Fire swirls around the Ladyblade in her hands, and she swings twice at a nearby Mummy, who has emerged from the ground. “Find the enemy cantor!”

“Easier said than done!” Gray yells, barely dodging the scythe of a gargoyle. It hits Clair instead, and she collapses. Tatiana rushes to her side.

An arrow takes down the gargoyle, and Gray dashes out of the throne room and down the hallway.

“Zeke, follow him!” Alm orders. “Take Tatiana as well!”

The gold knight looks over his shoulder at his lover, who smiles at him from her place next to Clair.

“You go first, Zeke! I’m almost done here!”

He nods, turns his head forward and spurns himself forward after Gray.

“Up here!” Gray yells, and Zeke directs his gaze up. Gray’s voice comes from the large balcony above, and Zeke dashes up the stairs.

“Agh!” Gray’s scream is the only alert Zeke has before he makes it through the door and is greeted by Gray flailing through the air towards him. Zeke reaches out his arms, grunting as Gray falls into his arms.

“Ow… thanks,” Gray chuckles, and Zeke lets the man slip out of his arms and stand on his feet.

“Don’t get complacent,” Zeke warns, his eyes spotting the enemies that sent Gray flying. “Mogals aren’t easy to defeat. Remember their weaknesses and strike where it matters.”

“Right!” Gray agrees, grabbing his dropped Brave Sword as one Mogal comes flying towards him.

He holds his hand above his head, eyes closed, and the sword begins to glow. In a flash, Gray slashes through the Mogal and it falls to the ground, limp.

“Whew. I thought I’d forgotten that. I’ll take care of the Mogals! You take care of the cantor, wherever he is!”

“Very well!”

Zeke looks around frantically. The glistening crown of the Cantor catches his eyes from the cluster of columns nearby. He lifts Gradivus above his head, grunting as he tosses it across the balcony. The spear sails through the air and slams itself perfectly into the enemy cantor’s chest.

Zeke doesn’t notice the ball of Miasma hurtling towards him from the sky as the cantor falls to the ground, nor does he notice the Mogal sneaking up behind him.

Black magic burns his heart, and with razor sharp tentacles, the Mogal rips multiple holes through his chest. Pain explodes through him, and a cry of pain slips from his mouth. Blood spurts across the ground as he falls on his side.

“No!” Gray yells, slashing through the Mogal. His blade flies through the Terror as it disappears. Gray stares at the empty area for a moment before dropping his sword and crouching beside Zeke.

“Zeke? Zeke, no… you can't…” He stumbles backwards, running into the castle. “Tatiana? Tatiana, please! You have to… Zeke’s…” His voice is shaking, his hands trembling.

“Zeke?” Tatiana asks from the stairs. Through the dark pain, he can barely see her. She gasps as she approaches the top, and dashes forward. “Zeke! How…!”

“There was a cantor and a Mogal, I wasn’t watching him, and I’m- I’m sorry!” Gray blurts.

Tatiana shakes her head, raising her staff. “It wasn’t your fault. Let me…” She trails off, holding her staff over her head as she mouths staff incantations.

The blood doesn’t stop flowing. The staff doesn’t light up. Tatiana speaks much more frantically, her foreign words slamming together into one incoherent blurb of words.

Nothing happens, and Zeke’s breath grows more ragged.

“Tatiana, stop…” Zeke rasps.

“Don’t say that, Zeke!” Tatiana cries. Tears are welling along her eyes, threatening to spill over her cheeks.

“Set down your staff… my love…” Zeke whispers. “Let me see… your smile… one last time…”

Tatiana pulls the corners of her lips up, a shaky smile crawling across her face.

He smiles, then closes his eyes and lets his head fall to the side.

“Forgive me, Tatiana…”

“Zeke…! Zeke! No, you can’t leave me now!” Tatiana cries, propping him up against her and hugging him tight, pressing her face against his neck. Tears slip down her cheeks, his blood smeared across her chest and cheeks. “Zeke! Zeke, answer me! Please, my love…”

His eyes flutter open, staring blankly at the sky behind Tatiana’s face. He smiles, a wheezy laugh escaping his lips.

“Nyna… Fare… well…”

His head lolls back, his chest stops moving, and Tatiana screams. His blood drips from the wound on his chest, staining the flower as white as light in his coat pocket.

~ / . / . / ~

Nyna wipes the blood from the corner of her lips, gritting her teeth as she glares up at the armed group standing in front of her.

“Still won’t go down, will you, you wench?” One of the men growls, flicking his blade in front of her. Drops of her blood splatter across the ground in front of her, and she winces as it sprays onto her forehead and seeps into her hair.

“What do you want?” She whispers, her fingers gripping around the light tome under her stomach. “Why have you attacked the village?”

“Oh, the village is just extra rewards. The real prize here is you, Sister Neina. Or, should I say, Empress Nyna?”

Nyna flinches, crawling backwards and sitting up, hugging her tome to her chest. “How do you…”

Two of the men make a threatening step forward, and in an instant, she’s pointing her finger, mouthing incantations of light magic. Bursts of yellow glow explodes by their feet, and the men yelp, jumping away.

“Answer me,” she hisses, her voice soft.

“I think that answers our question,” one of the swordsmen sneers to his teammates as she forces herself up against the wall.

“Who told you!?” Nyna spits.

“Sorry, but boss’s orders. No can tell, and you gotta go. Now.”

In a flash, the man in the back of the group who has been quiet is in front of her. His sword is raised already, and before Nyna can stop him, it’s stabbed into her.

Agony tears through her chest alongside the sword, pain swelling until it bursts out of her when the man withdraws his sword, the pain dripping out of her alongside her blood. She falls to the ground, the battle lost. Her lips open to cry for help, cast a spell, something. The words that slip from her mouth are something else.

“Help me… Camus…”

“I am here…” His voice echoes through her ears, buzzing in the darkness of her mind.

“Camus…?” she breathes.

“I am here. My queen… my beloved… I am here…” he whispers, and Nyna smiles, letting the bright light in her eyes wash over her as she reaches out her hand.

Camus takes her hand, grasping her fingers tighter, and flowers bloom as he flashes with light.

Nyna’s hands go limp, and her dull eyes flutter shut.

A wilted petal falls from her clasped fingers.

[callunavulgari]

SCRAPBOOK 2017 - TAKE TWO

Scrapbook for the second half of 2017, because tumblr doesn’t like it when you have a million links on one post.

Italicized titles = enjoyed muchly, bold titles = love, titles with an asterisk* = OBSESSION and titles in (brackets) are re-watches/re-reads. And lastly, strikethough = DISLIKE.

Goals are: read thirty-five new books this year (yikes, way behind), finish four video games (definitely on track here), finish writing and publish the Sabriel AU (eh heh), and write something original (does coming up with the idea count?). 

MOVIES

June

Wonder Woman

(Doctor Strange)

Kiki’s Delivery Service

Bronson

Chocolat

Tristan and Isolde

(Moana)

Power Rangers

July

Spiderman: Homecoming

Mona Lisa Smile

Baby Driver

(Logan)

Ouija: Origins of Evil

(Star Wars: Rogue One)

Passengers

Atomic Blonde

King and I

Stranded

August

The Sixth Sense

(Armageddon)

Miss Peregrine’s Home For Peculiar Children

9

(The Princess Diaries)

(X-Men: Apocalypse)

Legend

(Silent Hill)

BOOKS

June:

Authority | Jeff Vandermeer

July:

Authority | Jeff Vandermeer 

The Secret History | Donna Tarte

A Wrinkle In Time | Madeline L’Engle [Fin]

The Archived | Victoria Schwab [Fin]

Scythe | Neal Shusterman  [Fin]

Shadow and Bone | Leigh Bardugo [Fin]

August

Siege and Storm | Leigh Bardugo [Fin]

Less | Andrew Sean Greer

Authority | Jeff Vandermeer

A Wind In The Door |  Madeline L’Engle [Fin]

PODCASTS

June:

The Bright Sessions Eps 31-32

Alice Isn’t Dead Eps 3-4

Welcome to Night Vale 1-3

July:

Alice Isn’t Dead Eps 4-5

EOS 10 Eps 1-3

August

N/A

TV SHOWS BY SEASON

June:

Grace and Frankie

American Gods

(Stranger Things)

How to Get Away With Murder s2

Black Sails s2

July:

Black Sails s2

Grace and Frankie

Stargate SG-1 s2, s3

Doctor Who s8

The Strain

Boku no Hero Academia 

August

Westworld

Voltron s3

Game of Thrones s7

The Strain

Yamishibai

Jerry Springer  (Vacation w/ boyfriend’s family. Brother and friends are awful.)

VIDEO GAMES

June:

LoZ: Breath of the Wild (Definitely more than 40 hrs; Fin)

Dishonored 2 (Corvo Playthrough, 7 hrs)

Witcher 3 (15 hrs?)

July:

Witcher 3 (15 hrs?)

(Final Fantasy XV, 2 hrs)

August

(Final Fantasy XV, 2 hrs)

DELIGHTFUL FIC

June:

Running on Air by eleventy7 (HP; Drarry; 75k;  Draco Malfoy has been missing for three years. Harry is assigned the cold case and finds himself slowly falling in love with the memories he collects.)

Slithering by astolat (HP; Drarry; 27k;  Draco found the nest down in the Manor’s cellars, while he was clearing them out.)

Bitter Honey, Green Night by Faith Wood (faithwood) (HP; Drarry; 14k;  An inn, an Auror, a criminal, a mystery.)

Hermione Granger's Hogwarts Crammer for Delinquents on the Run by waspabi (HP; Drarry; 93k;  'You're a wizard, Harry' is easier to hear from a half-giant when you're eleven, rather than from some kids on a tube platform when you're seventeen and late for work.)

Stately Homes of Wiltshire by waspabi (HP; Drarry; 57k; Malfoy Manor has mould, dry rot and an infestation of unusually historical poltergeists. Harry Potter is on the case.)

stranger things than polyamory by trepan (Stranger Things; Jonathon/Steve/Nancy; 3.5k;  Somebody spray-paints NANCY WHEELER HAS TWO BOYFRIENDS on a wall she walks by on her way back from school in May. There are a couple of other students watching her as she passes. Nancy gives the sign a long look, then smirks at them politely.)

the heart its own rough animal by trepan (Stranger Things; Jonathon/Nancy/Steve; 21k;  “Where’s her daemon,” says one of the boys urgently. “Guys, she doesn’t have one.”)

in the bone by patho (ghostsoldier) (Dishonored; Corvo/Outsider; 2.8k;  It all began when Corvo started kissing the Mark for luck.)

The Sea and Stars Are Yours, My Dear, But the Moon Would Not Cooperate by NeverwinterThistle (Dishonored; Corvo/Outsider; 25k; The Outsider explores the murky seas of human courtship while Corvo watches in bemusement, and in the background Emily draws, Callista takes charge, Piero sulks, and Cecelia accidentally becomes indispensable. There's also a plague, a vase of asparagus, and about a hundred singing whales who randomly showed up in the harbour one evening.The squid is still wriggling.)

apocrypha by aerynlallaboso (Dishonored; Corvo/Outsider; 95k+; WIP;  The Eighth year of the reign of Empress Emily Kaldwin, First of her Name, the second year without a whisper from the Outsider, is the year the Void chooses to mark the end of an era.)

a small soft death by patho (ghostsoldier) (Dishonored; Corvo/Outsider; 2.8k; “The finest steel,” the Outsider says, “is forged with true purpose in mind. Elements that enhance the strength of the weapon are carefully chosen, and those that make the metal brittle and weak are burned away. It is an exacting process. The most beautiful dagger will be of no use at all if the steel is not properly tempered. Do you understand?”)

in·car·nate by bygoneboy (Dishonored; Corvo/Outsider; 21k; The Void’s Chosen have loved him before.)

The Crown of the Summer Court by astolat (Merlin; Merlin/Arthur; 24k;  "The king sent me to get you," Merlin said, with a tone that implied strongly that he wasn't rolling his eyes where Arthur could see, but just wait until his back was turned. "He said you're to get changed into formal clothes and meet him in the Great Hall, there's a delegation coming from the Summer Court.")

the king of oak by saltpans (HP: FBAWTFT; Credance/Percival Graves; 38k; The first thing Percival Graves does after being released back into the world is buy a new wand.)

Hi, You Were My Husband in Another Life, Professor by littlebirdtold (Star Trek; Spirk; 48k; Um, hi. I'm Jim. Jim Kirk. You don't know me, but I know you. Well, sort of. It's a long story.)

  Bluebird by waldorph (Star Trek; Spirk; 7k; Jim whipped around so fast most of his drink ended up on Spock, who was reaching for the phaser that wasn’t there. The Enterprise crew was parting like the biblical seas before Moses, and Jim could feel the temperature dropping. “Mom,” Jim croaked.)

Misethere by astolat (Witcher 3; Geralt/Emhyr; 46k; Emhyr was looking at him for once, with a strange expression. “I have misjudged you,” he said, sounding irritated actually: how dare Geralt surprise him.“I get that a lot,” Geralt said.)

Blooded Crown by astolat (Witcher 3; Geralt/Emhyr; 24k; “You need not thank me,” Emhyr said. “I have an ulterior motive.”It annoyed Geralt to be surprised. He should’ve known from the start. “Yeah?” The words came out with a little bite. “Have another daughter you need me to track down?”“If I wished to hire you, I would hire you,” Emhyr said. “No: I want you to come to my bed.”)

Cursed by astolat (Witcher 3; Geralt/Emhyr; 8k;  Geralt was reasonably sure this was the worst damn day of the worst damn month of his life, and it hadn’t hit bottom yet.)

July:

The War of Silver and Ash by astolat (Witcher 3; Geralt/Emhyr; 15k; He hadn’t come here with a contract. He’d come here to get the faces out of his head: the bloodless dead sprawled in heaps through the streets of Beauclair, the morning after the rampage Detlaff had unleashed; the blank eyes of the boy in the orphanage tilting his head to let Orianna drink from his throat, with the lullaby she’d been singing him still hanging in the air.Wasn’t working that well so far.)

A Year In Toussaint by astolat (Witcher 3; Geralt/Emhyr; 30k; Geralt had no damn idea what to do with a vineyard when Anna Henrietta gave him Corvo Bianco, but he figured it couldn’t be that bad.)

circling by xpityx (Witcher 3; Geralt/Emhyr; 5k; Emhyr sighed, as if Geralt’s lack of immediate understanding was a fundamental failure of his character.)

Running Behind by Asidian (FFXV; Prompto/Noctis; WIP;  There's a tag hanging on his storage pod, instead of the clipboard that documents his progress. On that tag, there's a single word stamped in red: defective.)

Toys by astolat (Lucifer; Lucifer/Chloe; 2k; “You want to fuck me!” he said gleefully.)

Emblazoning by astolat (Merlin; OT4; 19k; Morgana turned away from the high, barred window and rubbed her arms, chilled and bare. Arthur was sitting in the dirty straw at the very limit of his chains, which kept him a few inches too far away to touch Merlin's limp body. Outside they were putting up the stake.)

Redemption Merry Go-Round by astolat (Lucifer; Lucifer/Dan/Chloe; 8k;  Dan was deeply sorry for whatever he’d done in his life that had landed him in this mess, and also reasonably sure that despite all the shit he’d pulled in the last couple of years, he still didn’t deserve this.)

wild peaches by notbecauseofvictories (The Labyrinth; Sarah/Goblin King; 3k;  The morning after Sarah Williams defeats the Goblin King, she gets up and makes toast.)

where the weeds take root by beenghosting (Supernatural; Destiel; 30k+;  “Are you happy? Y’know. Just—being here,” Dean says, gesturing to the yard with his beer bottle. “Being with—I mean, you used to fight in celestial wars and—and save the world. Now you’re growing vegetables and talking about chickens.”)

damnatio memoriae by temporalDecay (Witcher 3; Geralt/Emhyr; 12k;  “May I walk the estate?” Emhyr repeated, and his nose crinkled in that familiar twitch of displeasure that Geralt had always secretly delighted in causing, despite how downright suicidal it was to invoke it on purpose. “I'm not going to run away,” he added, with a slight glare. “I'm merely bored.”)

Heart and Home by lc2l (Les Mis; Enjolras/Grantaire; 97k; In an alternate Paris, werewolves occupy the majority of the ruling classes, making and adjusting policy to suit their interests. The punishments for a human attacking a werewolf can be brutal, unless they have the protection of a wolf pack.How this translates to 'claim Grantaire as your mate to get him out of prison' is something Enjolras is still trying to get his head around, but he's never been one to give up on a cause even when it's sleeping on his sofa.)

August

How the Future's Done by barricadeur (Les Mis; Enjolras/Grantaire; 12k;  "Grantaire," he says slowly. "What do you have in that box?")

vocal ink by sarahyyy (Les Mis; Enjolras/Grantaire; 3k; “Officially, we don’t have a leader, everyone here is equal,” Courfeyrac says, keeping his voice low as Enjolras starts his speech, “but if we did, and we don’t, it would be Enjolras.” He looks over to Marius. “Do not approach him. Let him come to you, let him be the first to initiate conversation, and for the love of God, do not mention soulmates.”)

Years Since It's Been Clear by lady_ragnell (Les Mis; Enjolras/Grantaire; 10k;  Grantaire really doesn't expect Enjolras to force him to move in with him when he hears how shitty Grantaire's apartment is. And he definitely doesn't expect Enjolras to want him to stay, or how easy it turns out to be, or the way Enjolras has a habit of doing his studying in the sunshine on the living room floor ...)

Tolerable (Inuyasha; Sesshomaru&Miroku; 30k; “The scent is not entirely unpleasant.”)

Silence Is the Speech of Love by lady_ragnell (Les Mis; Enjolras/Grantaire; 50k; Grantaire's life has a pattern: he pays his respects to Aphrodite, he goes to work, he loves Enjolras and provokes him because he can't bring himself to do otherwise.)

The Five Year Plan by Neery (Les Mis; Enjolras/Grantaire; 16k;  Enjolras loses his memory. Thankfully, nothing unexpected seems to have happened to him in the five years he can't remember. Well, except for the boyfriend. The boyfriend's kind of a surprise.)

dance this silence down (the emergency room remix) by Fahye (Les Mis; Enjolras/Grantaire; 54k;  He's sitting in a car with all of his belongings in the back seat and his hands wrapped around the steering wheel, admitting to himself that a stupid, dizzy firework of a one-night-stand with a man he'd barely known is one of the only bright memories he has right now.)

World Ain't Ready by idiopathicsmile (Les Mis; Enjolras/Grantaire; 185k; Enjolras presses his lips together. He already looks pained, and Grantaire hasn't even opened his mouth yet. That's got to be a record, even for them."I need a favor," he says at last)**

  The Ghost of You by luchia (Les Mis; Enjolras/Grantaire; 25k; Grantaire moves into an apartment inhabited by a poltergeist. Enjolras haunts him, and Grantaire should really win an award for most complicated relationship status ever.)

box of secrets by nightswatch (Les Mis; Enjolras/Grantaire; 53k;  Grantaire leaves his doodles all over the place. Enjolras collects them without knowing who drew them.)

Yes, Sir by mikkimouse (Voltron; Sheith; 8k; "Are you all ready to get started?""Yes, sir!" twenty voices answered in unison.Shiro's stomach flipped at the words. Oh, no.The soulmark on his right wrist burned, confirmation that his soulmate was one of the twenty people who'd just uttered the phrase.)

despite what you've been told by caseyvalhalla (Yuri On Ice; Yuuri/Viktor; 14k; When Victor falls, he goes down hard.)

these things take time by sonhoedesrazao (Les Mis; Enjolras/Grantaire; 63k;  He’s always wary of making assumptions; even more so when Grantaire is concerned. He knows he’s not the easiest person to deal with. People either like him or can’t stand him, and it’s easy to respond to those reactions, but Grantaire—Grantaire is hostile and mocking, Grantaire scorns his beliefs, and Grantaire stays.)

In the End We Have Each Other by samyazaz (Les Mis; Enjolras/Grantaire; 50k; what startles Enjolras the most is that he manages approximately half a step through the door into the back room where they all meet before Grantaire rattles his glass down on the table in the back that he's taken for his own and drawls, "Is there something you forgot to tell us, Apollo?"That silences the room, predictably enough. Everyone breaks off their conversations and swivels to stare at him. At him, and at the baby carrier that he's got hooked over one arm.)

True Colors by lady_ragnell (Les Mis; Enjolras/Grantaire; 4k;  The first thing that catches Enjolras's eye when he enters the Musain Cafe for the first time is the walls. They're a dull black that it takes him a moment to realize must be chalkboard paint, because near the tables there are words and doodles, and all over, even the erased sections are stained with faint colored marks like the walls have soulmarks.)

Hit Me With Your Best Shot by tellthemstories (Les Mis; Enjolras/Grantaire; 10k; Fourteen times Grantaire tried to kill Enjolras.And one time he fell in love.)

RSVP (+1) by tellthemstories (Les Mis; Enjolras/Grantire; 21k;  When Enjolras is invited to Marius and Cosette’s wedding, he fully intends to ignore the ‘plus one’ on the invite. He’s busy at work and he has a lot on - he doesn’t have time for relationships. What he doesn’t expect is for Grantaire to invite himself along and then hit it off immediately with all of his friends.)

always there to remind you by estora, taywen (Dishonored; Corvo/Daud; 8k;  Later, after he had killed a number of people for coin, but before he killed so many that he lost count, Daud was glad he had no mark. No soulmate deserved to have his words marked on their skin.)

( Watercast by Fishwrites (Voltron; Lance/Keith; 96k; WIP;  Shiro has been a Galra prisoner for over a year; with his flight feathers clipped and unable to fly. Desperate to escape, he jumps overboard while being transported to the capitol on a Galran ship. Lance is a merman who saves him from drowning. Keith thinks Shiro is about to become mermaid dinner. Hunk just wants Lance to stop going to the surface all the time, dammit!))

DELIGHTFUL FANVIDS

June:

Multifandom || Tessellate (TYS: round2)

Multifandom || Bleeding out (collab w/ KatrinDepp)

Multifandom || Is this Real?

Multifandom || Insane Like Me (TYS: round1)

Multifandom │ Warriors

July:

the beast of america | percival graves

Get You Killed || Percival Graves

Percival Graves - Hit & Run

► Graves (+Credence) | Are You Insane Like Me?

Credence Barebone/Percival Graves || And I wanna fight, But I can't contend

[FIREFLY] - She always did love to dance

[Multifandom] - Dance with me

The Last of Us || Can't Pretend

The Walking Dead || Bottom of the River

Multifandom || Do Not Go Gentle Into That Goodnight

Doctor Who (Logan Style)

Spider-Man (Peter Parker) // Everybody Loves Me

Iron Man (Tony Stark) // Gold

In The Flesh | we're gonna die, die, die

In The Flesh || We're Alone Now

Fantastic Beasts || Step into the light

Stranger Things|| Knocking On Heaven's Door

Jonathan & Nancy|| Tighten Up

Multifandom|| Stuck.Broken.Dead.

[Multifandom] - One Word

Marvel | Human

percival graves | can't hold us

August

Hela // Castle

grantaire & enjolras - help me kill the president

Game of Thrones || Blood of My Blood (for 60k)

(GoT) House Stark | The North Remembers

(GoT) Jaime Lannister | Oathbreaker

Jonathan Byers || I'm not like everybody else

Uptown Funk || Marvel Universe

MARVEL || Can't hold us

GLITTER & GOLD || Multifandom [HNY●2017]

I'M SO SORRY | Marvel Cinematic Universe

David Haller [Legion] | Dysfunctional

(Legion) It's Better When it Feels Wrong

unless you make it real [Legion]

not today [yuri on ice]

Haikyuu!! || not today

Multifandom | Tame Your Demons (w/SnowLightxx)

Six Of Crows - Trouble

marvel || battle royale

(GoT) Jon Snow | The Targaryen Wolf

Arya Stark // See What I've Become

(GoT) Jon Snow || The Wolf With Dragon's Blood

MARVEL/DC || BORN ready 

DELIGHTFUL MUSIC

June:

Johnny Hollow - Boogeyman

Sia - To Be Human feat. Labrinth

Lorde - Green Light

The National - "Don't Swallow the Cap"

The Growlers - "I'll Be Around"

The xx - I Dare You

Phantogram - Fall In Love

alt J - In Cold Blood

And I Waited All Night For You To Come, But You Never Did

Sia - The Greatest

Hopeless Fountain Kingdom - Halsey (Album)

History - Monakr

Wildcat! Wildcat! - Relentless (feat. Wynne)

Ingrid Michaelson - In the Sea

Cities in Dust Lyrics- The Everlove

Prides - Messiah

ODESZA - It's Only (feat. Zyra)

Metric - Breathing Underwater

Purity Ring - Sea Castle

Hundreds - Fighter

Labyrinth Ear - Urchin

Rasputina - Dig Ophelia

Sóley - Fight Them Soft

Soap&Skin - Boat Turns Toward The Port

CocoRosie - R.I.P. Burn Face

AURORA - Nature Boy

July:

Hamilton Soundtrack

Karen O - I Shall Rise

Miracle of Sound - Lady of Worlds 

Annie Lennox - I Put A Spell On You

Woodkid - IRON (Sara cover)

Peronal Yeezus By Chambaland (Atomic Blonde Trailer Music)

Kesha - Praying

twenty one pilots: Screen

Lemaitre - Higher

Regina Spektor-Blue Lips

Zaz - Les Passants

Katie Costello - Stranger

Arctic Monkeys - Knee Socks

Silversun Pickups - The Pit

If I Apologized - Mirrormask 

August

Les Mis - One Day More

Les Mis - Red and Black

Les Mis - Do You Hear the People Sing

Les Mis - Epilogue

Sleeping At Last - Mars

Hozier - Take Me To Church

Lynrd Skynrd - Freebird

You - Keaton Henson

Radical Face - All Is Well (It’s Only Blood)

Valerie Broussard - Trouble

Erutan - The Willow Maid

Imagine Dragons - Gold

Imagine Dragons - Thunder

Which Witch - Florence & the Machine

Paint It, Black - Ramin Djawadi

Honor For All - Dishonored

Daniel Licht - The Return

Patrick Wolf - Teignmouth 

Ballet Breakup - RvB

WRITTEN FIC

June:

it's warm, this skin i'm living in (SGA; Rodney/John; 1,170 words; When he is thirty-seven years old, John Sheppard thinks about the universe.

it's good to be in love, it really does suit you (KH; Sora/Riku/Kairi; 1,694 words; “We’ve done dangerous before.” Sora shrugs. “Getting a mortgage was dangerous, but we did it anyway.”)

a hazy shade of winter (Stranger Things; Steve/Nancy/Jonathan; 1,863 words; In November, they build a tree house.)

July:

can't deny your appetite (SGA; Rodney/John; 4,031 words; John finds out that there’s a vampire in Atlantis the day after they’ve stepped through the gate.He finds out that the vampire in question is Rodney McKay four weeks later, when they’re all hunkered down in the yawning shadow of some crumbling ruins and Rodney looks at him, his eyes eerily bright in the darkness, sees the blood on John’s face, and says, “Oh.”)

August

caught off guard by you (FFXV; Prompto/Noctis; 1,671 words;  “I just got you back,” Prompto says quietly, words muffled into the curve of Noctis’s neck.)

take me to church (Teen Wolf; Sterek; 3,129 words;  Derek scoffs. “You want to take me back to Quantico.”)

FANMIXES/GRAPHICS

June:

N/A

July:

the salt water sting:  wor·ship | noun | the feeling or expression of reverence and adoration for a deity.

The Flash | Fire Fire [Vid]

August

love has no heart: A mix for those with no hearts.

i believe in you: You love him. The story still ends.

January.

February.

March.

April.

May.

June.

July.

August.

[suggestionsofthecaribbean]

Chat: Elizabeth and James (July 1st)

Feat.: Elizabeth Swann (@lizzyswann-turnersuggestions ) and James Norrington (@norringtonsuggestions)

TL;DR: Elizabeth and James chat upon leaving Tortuga and each other’s physical presence.

@norringtonsuggestions I have a request. lizzyswann-turnersuggestions 💓💓💓💓💓💓💓 @lizzyswann-turnersuggestions hi! what is the request? norringtonsuggestions Let’s not go back to Tortuga, if it can be avoided. lizzyswann-turnersuggestions James, it's the only free port left.  And we're pirates, besides. Where else are we going to travel to safely?norringtonsuggestions I know, but I’m finding myself able to think clearly for the first time in weeks finally being away from it. norringtonsuggestions Being back at sea is as though a curtain has lifted. lizzyswann-turnersuggestions :/ @lizzyswann-turnersuggestions What do you mean by thinking clearly?norringtonsuggestions The only time I was able to feel at peace in Tortuga was by your side. It’s blessedly rather more often away from it, though I’ll confess that your absence does rather limit my happiness. norringtonsuggestions But it’s easier to be unhappy without wishing the whole world had one chest to run through. lizzyswann-turnersuggestions :/ lizzyswann-turnersuggestions Of course I'll let you choose for yourself where you make port, Captain Norrington, but don't risk your crew and your cargo all because you grew a beard in Tortuga once.  There are very few places it is safe to be, and Tortuga, even if it is less so for you than for the rest of us, is one of the only ones left. norringtonsuggestions Perhaps my state of mind will continue to improve with time. Please don’t worry. lizzyswann-turnersuggestions I'm not worried. norringtonsuggestions I miss you terribly, though. There is no one I can speak to about it, but there are times I feel I took the ship somewhat prematurely. lizzyswann-turnersuggestions Prematurely?? And have had me wait even longer for you? norringtonsuggestions If I had come alone, I might be on the Empress right now. lizzyswann-turnersuggestions It's possible. It's also possible you would then complain endlessly about how you have no way to prove yourself independent of her majesty. norringtonsuggestions And I suppose that then Giselle might not be “living her best life”, as she put it. The woman is ecstatic. lizzyswann-turnersuggestions And you aren't content to be merely my 🐶  :Pnorringtonsuggestions That is a DISTINCTLY un-threatening dog. norringtonsuggestions Just letting you know. lizzyswann-turnersuggestions I don't find you threatening :) @lizzyswann-turnersuggestions And I wish I could pull you into my lap right now. norringtonsuggestions Giselle has decided she wants to take daily portraits of myself for her Instagram, as I don’t currently have one. It’s both embarrassing and flattering. @norringtonsuggestions (I would be glad to be thus pulled.) lizzyswann-turnersuggestions :/ great now every woman in the caribbean is going to be in your dms @lizzyswann-turnersuggestions (we're not sexting. it gets too weird for me.) norringtonsuggestions I don’t have DMs, remember? lizzyswann-turnersuggestions oh thank god norringtonsuggestions And they’d hardly risk your wrath lizzyswann-turnersuggestions As if i would sail the empress up to some colonial outpost to punch an overly ambitious milkmaid in the face for posting the sweat emoji on a picture of you 42 times norringtonsuggestions It’s well known by now whose bread I am buttering. norringtonsuggestions Is that how it’s done? I haven’t been active in more than two years now. lizzyswann-turnersuggestions you're gonna see some shit and some things darling norringtonsuggestions [attachment: a needlessly dramatic candid of him leaning on the heels of his hands on the quarterdeck balustrade in 3/4 profile, late in the day, cloak spread out, hair finally trimmed to look a bit more dignified as it grows back out even though it’s still very short by their standards] I may have to ask her to send these to you first. I would rather you have them before her apparently growing audience. lizzyswann-turnersuggestions as if i'm not going to to trying to leave first comment on every single one of them james @lizzyswann-turnersuggestions giselle takes really good pictures!!! norringtonsuggestions I’ll pass that along! I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to hear that you think so highly of her work. lizzyswann-turnersuggestions wish she had taken our engagement photos lol @lizzyswann-turnersuggestions because for one thing my hair is messed up in those and she would not have allowed it norringtonsuggestions I found it charming. Certainly more characteristic than otherwise. norringtonsuggestions Not that it would matter now. @norringtonsuggestions I suppose that if we survive this ordeal we might have her take a set simply to have one. norringtonsuggestions (Though if hair is a matter of dispute here, I’m leaving my hat on.) lizzyswann-turnersuggestions if we're planning for the future norringtonsuggestions Yes? lizzyswann-turnersuggestions lets wait until your hair looks better in the first place before we get pictures @lizzyswann-turnersuggestions also i need a cool scar norringtonsuggestions Elizabeth. @norringtonsuggestions I hope that’s not a declaration of intent. lizzyswann-turnersuggestions relax lizzyswann-turnersuggestions❄️ chill out lizzyswann-turnersuggestions🍨🍦🍧 norringtonsuggestions Promise me you’re not going to go charging into danger face first in hopes of coming out of it with a new detail. lizzyswann-turnersuggestions it wasn't serious😉👌 norringtonsuggestions You are immensely worrisome, did you know that? lizzyswann-turnersuggestions i might have norringtonsuggestions If I did not love you so dearly, I think I should be at my wit’s end with you most of the time. lizzyswann-turnersuggestions You're not the first man to say something like that to me. c: @lizzyswann-turnersuggestions I suppose you heard it from him firsthand a lot of the time. norringtonsuggestions It was the content of much of our conversation.Maybe he meant to warn me, I don’t know. lizzyswann-turnersuggestions He doesn't seem to have made much of an effort, because he was your greatest supporter in that endeavor. norringtonsuggestions Prepare me, rather. @norringtonsuggestions Ensure I was at my most ready. lizzyswann-turnersuggestions Your most ready to be annoyed? norringtonsuggestions My most ready to know exactly what I was dealing with. @norringtonsuggestions You might recall, I was not particularly surprised by your demand for trousers. lizzyswann-turnersuggestions how could you be? i was barely dressed, i had to wear something norringtonsuggestions I would have given you a coat! norringtonsuggestions Presumably we could have bribed one of the midshipmen for boots. lizzyswann-turnersuggestions i wanted to be able to run freely! we were going to rescue will! @lizzyswann-turnersuggestions from GHOST PIRATES👻🏴‍☠️😱 lizzyswann-turnersuggestions was i supposed to be faint and delicate lying in your cabin while barbossa tried to murder my childhood sweetheart???🙅🙅🙅 norringtonsuggestions Then you might have at least seen me return with blood on my sword, as that appears to be something you enjoy. lizzyswann-turnersuggestions don't be bitter! norringtonsuggestions I’m not *now*. I’m trying very hard to move forward.As I said, this is the clearest my mind has been in probably years. lizzyswann-turnersuggestions probably just coffee norringtonsuggestions Elizabeth! lizzyswann-turnersuggestions Perhaps the sudden crash of sleeping for six hours after spending days deprived. @lizzyswann-turnersuggestions I can relate to that @lizzyswann-turnersuggestions Very recently, actually, I experienced a certain satisfaction that had been denied me for a proper week leading up to it ;P norringtonsuggestions Yes, well, for my part, I remain unsatisfied, so you may keep that in mind when you feel like complaining. lizzyswann-turnersuggestions You could have said something. norringtonsuggestions There was never a good time. I had no desire to be crude. lizzyswann-turnersuggestions I HAVE ENOUGH OF THAT FOR US BOTH UGH JAMES norringtonsuggestions I already found myself out of sorts the entire time we were there, I didn’t need to introduce that to the mix. lizzyswann-turnersuggestions Introduce what? norringtonsuggestions I already feel half-decent walking around like this as it is, and the constant nagging want for a drink made it worse. I hardly wanted to bring up the idea of unslaked lust and complete the trifecta. lizzyswann-turnersuggestions I can't make your hair grow, I can't permit you to drink. @lizzyswann-turnersuggestions But I could have satisfied you. @lizzyswann-turnersuggestions Whenever you finally sleep I hope you do so secure in the knowledge that you are the Caribbean's finest fool, James. norringtonsuggestions I already knew that, but what now. lizzyswann-turnersuggestions Don't you know? norringtonsuggestions I didn’t wish to take advantage! lizzyswann-turnersuggestions I DID norringtonsuggestions And all things being equal, you drank most nights. lizzyswann-turnersuggestions I did, yes.But would that I could have tasted more of you than of rum :P norringtonsuggestions We’ll work something out during the landing in Cuba, all right? God only knows where we’re bound after that. lizzyswann-turnersuggestions ugh i can't believe that idiot had to die right in the middle of us figuring out we liked each other. norringtonsuggestions Typical, really. lizzyswann-turnersuggestions Like he did it on purpose. @lizzyswann-turnersuggestions He used to like me and now he likes you and he's probably mad he's not in the middle norringtonsuggestions The very day he died he was offering to show me how to apply sunblock. I swear to GOD. lizzyswann-turnersuggestions missed out on an opportunity there @lizzyswann-turnersuggestions giselle could have put that one on her instagram norringtonsuggestions Elizabeth. lizzyswann-turnersuggestions i would have watched it lizzyswann-turnersuggestions 42 emojis at least norringtonsuggestions ELIZABETH. @norringtonsuggestions My God, I hope I don't attract that much attention. lizzyswann-turnersuggestions You will. lizzyswann-turnersuggestions You always did tbh. lizzyswann-turnersuggestions I used to cash in on our relationship at the salon lmao norringtonsuggestions ...really? @norringtonsuggestions I was aware that there were... interested parties, but not quite so many of them. lizzyswann-turnersuggestions young, ambitious, hot, ambitious, local hero, hot, in the navy with all four limbs and all ten fingers and all of his pretty face, unmarried @lizzyswann-turnersuggestions i had to make up so many interesting letters from you because you refused to actually say anything interesting in your letters that i could tell anyone @lizzyswann-turnersuggestions You taught me LYING, James. norringtonsuggestions I'm not unaware of my reputation, but I feel as though it must now be somewhat necessarily diminished simply by my association with Beckett. lizzyswann-turnersuggestions We'll restore it. @lizzyswann-turnersuggestions Well, you will restore it and I will impede your progress by vagueing about my well-behaved lapdog so you don't get a swelled head. norringtonsuggestions Oh, lovely. @norringtonsuggestions I'm sure you have it all planned out, then. lizzyswann-turnersuggestions I shall be very nice about it. norringtonsuggestions Between you and Giselle I am feeling EXTREMELY managed. lizzyswann-turnersuggestions Between Giselle and I, you say? ;D norringtonsuggestions Well, and the self-appointed PR man she hired. lizzyswann-turnersuggestions Well, he's not invited. norringtonsuggestions Oh God, I just caught your meaning. @norringtonsuggestions ELIZABETH. norringtonsuggestions Elizabeth, Giselle and I do not have that sort of relationship. @norringtonsuggestions She merely enjoys making me her project for her Instagram, and in exchange I've been teaching her to read. norringtonsuggestions Whether you believe it or not, I'm rather dedicated to you. lizzyswann-turnersuggestions all right, all right @lizzyswann-turnersuggestions You can't blame me for being jealous. norringtonsuggestions Why, because she insists on choosing my clothes? lizzyswann-turnersuggestions Because she's pretty and knows how to take care of you better than I do and she's on the ship with you and I'm not and sometimes you get anons that thnk you two should date norringtonsuggestions Neither of us have any inclination in that direction. lizzyswann-turnersuggestions But alone... on a ship together... When you know each other better...I never used to have any inclination in that direction either. So I know what i'm talking about norringtonsuggestions We don't. And we're not alone on the ship, either. lizzyswann-turnersuggestions You have a different relationship with her than with anyone else on the ship! And she's one of the only women, as I recall.And she's so charming and lovely! norringtonsuggestions *One of* the only women. I thought of you and allowed a few more on when they offered to enlist. lizzyswann-turnersuggestions Don't remind me there are more TOO well.

[James fails to respond to this.]