#if they separate in their early twenties and reunite in their early thirties or something like that

[canisalbus]

hi your art has for the longest time rendered me to utter shreds. nary a piece of me left untouched by the papershredder that ur blog is to my brain. what do you MEAN the thorny sickly looking one is getting held close to a warm chest at night what do you MEAN shopping in modern au together what do you MEAN reunion after 17 years sticking ur stupid snout into another mans neck I'm ILL . I'm ILL about this. and your art style is . ohhhhh. speechless your color work and line work is like honey and i am a stupid little ant getting lost in it

p o e t r y

[thebirdandhersong]

Hey, so I've basically never watched any k-dramas, but I've read a lot of manga and manhwa and the automatic next step does feel like moving into k-dramas. You seem to have watched a number, so I was wondering if you could make a recommended list? Only if you felt like it of course, but it would be helpful! (Preferably of at least some which are on netflix uk, I looked up 18 again but it's unfortunately not on here in Britain :(. But if you have favourites I'd just like to know them so I can look out for them anywhere)

Also yay! Your term's ended!

(yanks open the door) did someone say RECOMMENDATIONS?? I DO have many!!! Boy do I have them!!!!

(YAY!! One last exam and I'm done for the summer!)

I love Eastern entertainment (manga, k-dramas, c-dramas, and movies from Korea and Taiwan) because of several reasons: the scripts are phenomenal nine times out of ten; Asian culture puts a strong emphasis on the importance of family, personal responsibility, learning from one's mistakes, expressing affection through gestures and acts of service, and friendship and I really love seeing that in a story; and they make good use of silence and stillness in shows and movies, which is pretty rare in Hollywood. The quiet moments between characters are more often than not some of the most important in the story and I Love That!!

The dramas I'm (briefly) listing are in bold if they're available on Netflix UK, and in bold and italicised if they're available on Rakuten Viki (which is a mostly-free drama streaming service, though unfortunately they're rather heavy on the ads). The Absolute Favourites are marked with stars (***). Though I can't actually see the whole list of dramas available in the UK, so some of these may be wrong, and it may be worth checking twice!

If you're in the mood for something fast-paced:

Descendants of the Sun (Viki); considered a Classic

- romantic comedy, medical drama, a bit of action

- The confident and charming leader of a Special Forces unit meets a reserved surgeon and they hit it off, after some... interesting misunderstandings. But after dating briefly and breaking up, they find themselves reunited on a peacekeeping mission in a war-torn country. Insert a lot of Suspense and Excitement but also a lot of Comedy and Sincere Declarations of Love.

- if you enjoy Song Joongki's performance, I'd also recommend his movie A Werewolf Boy. If you enjoy Song Hye-kyo's performance, I'd recommend her drama Encounter.

***Come and Hug Me (Viki, but I don't know if it costs money?)

- thriller/suspense, romance, this one genuinely stressed me out but the moments of peace and reconciliation (and the ENDING) were well worth it

- Their first loves during their youth ends in her mother's death and their separation. Years later, the lively daughter of the murdered woman is now an actress, and the introverted son of the serial killer has become a police officer. They meet each other again (Of Course) and have to tackle all sorts of Nonsense (including the serial killer's return, his murderous brother's return from prison, the Media, the ghosts of their past, etc. etc.) together. HUGE focus on forgiveness, hope, healing, unconditional and self-sacrificial love. Also one of the best redemption arcs (I did in fact bawl my eyes out)

- my friend just started crying when we first watched this drama together because the male lead is just so gentle and tenderhearted and steadfast :')

If you're in the mood for something a bit slower

***Goblin/Guardian (Viki); International Acclaim

- fantasy, drama, one of the funniest dramas I've ever watched, but also tears (I cried at a rate of around once every two episodes. This show talks a lot about life and meaning and the effect your actions and words have on the people around you.)

- Kim Shin, a general from the Goryeo Dynasty, is cursed to live as an immortal Goblin (a Korean mythical/fairy tale figure) until his destined Bride pulls the sword from his chest, thus breaking the 'spell' and ending his life. He really did not expect his bride to be the vivacious and irrepressible Eun-tak, though, and What's More!! He did not expect that he would start wanting to live again :))) Includes a surprising amount of comedy, a surprising amount of tears, and EXCELLENT screenwriting. (Descendants and Goblin share the same brilliant writer.)

- fun fact: parts of it were shot in Quebec!! One of the characters refers to Canada as "the maple nation" early on in the story and my friend and I just burst into laughter.

***Encounter (Viki, but I'm not sure if it costs money?)

- melodrama, romantic comedy, FAIRY TALE

- a cold and withdrawn woman, recently divorced because of her husband's infidelity, and a warm-hearted and optimistic young man meet on the streets of Cuba by accident, and upon separating without means of contact, find themselves back in Korea as boss and newly hired employee. This sounds like a recipe for disaster: stuffed to the gills with unnecessary workplace drama and gossip, etc. but the story focuses instead on family, vulnerability, transformation, sacrifice, about art, compassion, mending relationships, opening up to people, and about the beauty in bringing and receiving comfort and love.

- also. ALSO. Fairy tale!!! with illustrated opening and ending cards and everything!!! (they literally refer to her as the Ice Princess. And her Prince is the human equivalent of sunshine. I Love him)

- if you like Park Bo-gum's performance, I'd recommend Reply 1988, too!

***One Spring Night

- melodrama; quiet and understated but very beautiful

- A bright, clever, and sharp-tongued librarian meets a quiet, steady, and gentle pharmacist one day. It turns out that he's a single father, and she's trapped in a relationship that really isn't working out. Friendship! Family! Sisters standing up for each other and saying No I Won't Let You Treat My Sister Like This, You Jerk! Figuring things out! Learning how to love! I really don't know what else to say, except for the fact that I loved it very much!!

- if you enjoy Jung Hae-in's performance, I'd also recommend Something in the Rain (which should also be on Netflix!) for his acting alone. I just think he's neat.

Reply 1988

- slice-of-life, comedy

- In the late 1980s, five friends (four boys, one girl) who have grown up with each other since childhood are Going Through It in high school. This drama is all about the little things that happen in life, and about learning to understand your family and your friends. Deok-sun is just trying to survive all of This as the middle child, and as a young girl who is trying to figure this Romance thing out. In the present, adult Deok-sun is just as lively, and is now happily married..... but to whom? :))) A Lot of '80s Asian culture, daily antics, and good old friendship.

- if you like Park Bo-gum's performance, I'd recommend Encounter too :)

18 Again (Viki)

- romantic comedy, fantasy/time travel (sort of)

- Nearly twenty years of marriage, and things have been going Wrong all over the place. His wife wants a divorce, he's no longer close to his teenaged kids, and he's just lost the job he's been faithfully working at for years. Daeyoung wishes that he could go back somehow, and finds himself 18 once again.... except he's still in the present. Interesting things ensue. He enrolls in school (it turns out to be the same one his kids attend), and decides to pursue the dreams he had to give up when he was a teenager. Antics ensue! But also Healing: he gets to know his kids all over again, and is able to view his relationships with Dajung (whom he still loves. Of course) and his estranged father in a new light.

- I have not finished this drama yet but judging from the first third of it, it is both well-written and well-acted. There are a few things that I am not a fan of, but on the whole Lee Dohyun's performance is wonderful and I have already cried buckets.

Other honourable mentions:

100 Days My Prince: historical drama. Prince caught in an assassination plot, loses his memory, wakes up in a village right when the king issues a marriage law that results in his marrying the spirited 'spinster'.

Still 17/Thirty But Seventeen: 17 year old violin prodigy in a coma after an accident, wakes up when she's 30; the boy who inadvertently caused the accident runs into her again after she wakes up and helps her adjust to her new life. Lots of wacky humour, very sweet!!

[dibidibifiction]

A Hundred-dollar Bill: PART 4

Warning: foul language, fluff Word count: 1.9k

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction made for personal entertainment of readers. The writer does not ever intend to offend her readers nor does she aim to spread false information about anyone as to pay any disrespect to the real-life persons whom the characters are based on. She also does not claim ownership to any of the images that are being used.

masterlist PART 3

I gently pull away from Taemin’s cuddle to get up. He immediately rolls his whole body the other way, finding Kibum who is spooning Minho on the other side. Once again, I stare at all my best friends. This time they’re sleeping so soundly and this, for me, is enough to provide me comfort. However, I somehow feel sorry for getting them into this mess. 

I adjust this one blanket for them to squeeze in.

I grab Minho’s cigarette pack and head to the roof of the building to wait for the sun to rise.

Once I’m sat on the dirty, dusty cement, I light a cigarette to my satisfaction.

I think of my parents. I don’t really believe in life after death but I genuinely hope they’re happy and together wherever they may be. I wish there was a way to let them know how much I miss them. Also, I really hope they don’t see how I’m doing right now because my dad would for sure beat me up.

“Hey, can I get a hit of that?” I hear someone say after a couple of minutes of my alone time.

I turn my head to look behind me. It’s Taemin. “Oh, hey.”

“That ‘hey’ doesn’t sound like you’re happy to see me,” he giggles. He takes the cigarette from my lips and then to his.

“A singer isn’t supposed to smoke, right?”

“Who says I’m a singer?”

I stare at him in confusion after I light myself another stick. “Spill it.”

“Nobody knows this. Well, except for Kibum Hyung since he’s all for social media and happened to find the article. Thanks for looking it up by the way,” he jokes. “About a month ago,” he starts. “Euisoo Hyung handed me the news that he handled my situation and proved to the media and to everybody that the rumors about me are wrong. I don’t know how he did it, I didn’t ask, but I’m just grateful. Not to mention relieved. He said that I can get back to work as soon as I’m ready. And I asked him to give me some time to think about it.”

“What? Taemin, what’s there to think about? This is your dream.”

“It was. I already lived it for six years and I couldn’t feel more honored and fortunate, but…” He hesitates. 

“But what?”

He sighs. “I have a new dream. I realized that living a lowkey life made me happier, less pressured, especially with the person I love. I decided to go back to the original plan, which is to become a dancer. Not exactly a singer,” he says, tipping the cigarette butt out of his hands.

I watch his eyes twinkle under the upcoming sunrise sky. There is not a drop of doubt that he’s really sure about this. I always wondered how hard it was for him to recover from all the hate, and his fans cancelling on him. He didn’t really open up this deeply. Now, here he is, rising from the ashes. 

“Last night, when I went out while Kibum Hyung rested, I talked to Euisoo Hyung again.”

“Really? And?”

“He told me that I’m going to have a meeting with the board of the directors about my choreography and songwriting career. Turns out there still is a reputation to ruin I just realized. So…”

“So what happened last night can’t happen again,” I finish his thought.

“Well, not everything that happened. There are some moments I want to make happen again.” He gives off a grin, trying not to giggle at his own flirty information. 

“Wait, let’s get back to that part where you mentioned somebody you love. What’s that about exactly?” I join his kidding around.

Now he can’t hold his laugh.

We stare at each other for a while as the laughter fades. Slowly, he begins to lean into me to gently put his lips onto mine. Then carefully slides his tongue against mine as they start to dance together.

It feels different this time. It’s more tender and more passionate. It’s less wild but more gentle. Less lustful but more pleasant. Less exciting but more caring. 

He pulls away. “Look, I know we’ve never talked about this. Us. I never brought it up because I want everything to stay the same and I don’t want to fuck it up.”

“Yeah, I know, me too. I like the way we are.” I smile brightly at him, involuntarily. I take a deep breath as I’ve decided to say what I’m about to say. “I love you though.”

Tears form in his eyes like they wanted to say the same thing to me. I watch them close as he starts kissing me again.

The sun has come up which marks the end of everything reckless and rebellious and the beginning of something prudent and responsible.

. . .

We wouldn’t see one another for months after that day. We lived separately for a bit to focus on our own lives, to be better. 

But we did hang out from time to time, just not as often as we did before. Lucky for us, we had each other—we still do—to realize that it’s never too late to start over. It’s from each other where we learned that each of us is like a hundred-dollar bill. No matter how much we’re folded, crumpled, and stepped on, we never lost our value. 

We never experienced what it was like to be living free as youngsters because our lives fucked us up so early. That’s also why we lived it in our late twenties. Although one certain thing we know is that we have no regrets, especially after we found each other.

It is now six years later and so much has changed. Our individual lives have never been better, and we’ve never been happier. 

Taemin is now a well-known, well-esteemed singer turned choreographer and songwriter, working with famous pop groups and soloists. He would make a comeback once in a while as a singer but it doesn’t become his priority. 

Four years ago, just a year after his career peak, Taemin showed Kibum’s secret sketched designs to a famous designer he worked with for some time for his comeback.

Long story short, Kibum finished fashion school where he was sponsored by that same designer, who also became his mentor. Later on, his social media following started growing and he would be interviewed and be featured by different magazine and publishing companies. He would work on his own clothing line little by little in collaboration with various famous fashion icons. 

Minho served the military for two years after he ran away from his father, who patched things up with him recently. After his military service, he reunited with his former soccer coach in college and they trained day and night without taking any breaks at all. I would cook and prepare us a picnic, then the rest of us would visit him in the field. He would soon make the national team. And after being reserved in the bleachers for so long, just months ago, he was responsible for their team’s rare championship and is awarded as the Most Valuable Player this season. Now, Minho becomes one of the famous successful football players who peaked in their thirties. 

. . .

As I’m tidying up for closing, I hear the bell ring as somebody enters my bakeshop. I turn around to see Taemin, who instantly puts a smile on my face.

“Hey, you,” he greets with a warm hug.

“Hi,” I say before placing a sweet kiss on his lips. “I’m almost ready. Hold on a second.”

After I check all the lights in the back rooms and am about to walk out the front door, all ready to go, I catch Taemin lost in thought. He admires the place, then looks at me. Staring at me with twinkle in his eyes. 

“What wrong?” I ask.

“Nothing,” he shakes his head and loses eye contact. “I’m just so proud of you,” he says, trying not to smile so widely.

This was the same café where Kibum and I first had lunch. This was the place where our friendship grew. This was where the rest of our lives began. When I found out that they were selling it a year ago, I had no second thoughts and did everything to get it. And now, here we are.

“Yeah, well,” I grab both of his hands and sigh in serenity and bliss. “I am proud of us.”

He looks at the ground, cringing all of a sudden.

I wrap my hands around his neck to draw him closer, and kiss him tenderly, catching his tongue on mine.

He hums in pleasure. “Do we still have time?”

I pull away, laughing at him. “No, we don’t.”

He sulks and shows a childish sad face.

“Come on. We’re late to meet the guys.”

After a half an hour drive, we arrive at Kibum’s newly renovated, newly furnished house. Now’s only the first time we’re all visiting because he wanted it to be a surprise. When I finally recognized the place, it made me almost cry. Even though he changed almost all its features, it still brought back the memories we shared out here. It’s the place where we broke in six years ago, almost getting caught by the police.

While Taemin goes in through the front door to deliver the cake I baked and the champagne we brought, my impulse orders me to head to the backyard where the swimming pool was located.

I catch Minho out on the patio, grilling meat and sausages. I spy the rest of the area, and my sight lands on the swimming pool. Turns out it’s the only feature that hasn’t changed. Although, it’s way cleaner and way more gorgeous.

I can’t help but let the tears fall.

Minho finally sees me when he takes a sip of his beer. “Y/n, hey, you’re here!” He was about to welcome me with open arms but then he notices that I’m crying. “What’s wrong?” 

My voice breaks. “I know it’s silly, but it’s just we had such memories here, and now we’re—” I can’t go on. I’m already weeping.

“Come here,” he hugs me anyway and places a peck on my forehead.

“Minho, what’s going on out there?” Kibum finally appears, Taemin following behind him holding four glasses in between his fingers and the bottle of champagne in his other hand.. 

“Nothing!” I say, holding back tears even though there’s no point.

“Oh, honey.” Kibum reaches out and wraps his arms around me. Taemin and Minho are behind me embracing each others’ hellos too.

So we have dinner at Kibum’s patio. Later on in the night, we all jump into the very swimming pool that I never thought I would see again. Back then, I thought I’d have to cherish every moment because I might not be able to live it again. But that moment happens again right now. And it will keep on happening.

We bond all night like we always have. Minho’s competitive rock-paper-scissors, Taemin’s harsh tickling, and Kibum’s savage comments. Although this time, we’re not fucked up adults anymore. 

Once again, I propose a toast. “To fucking friendship.”

“To fucking friendship!”

[naturepointstheway]

Faith in a Futile Hope (Life is Strange 2; Parting Ways)

Post Parting Ways ending, takes place up to fifteen years after the events at the border. May or may not have a second part. Daniel attempts to look for his brother in Mexico, knowing all this time that the plan is doomed to fail from the beginning.

Also, constructive feedback well-appreciated; using this as testing grounds before AO3, just to see if people think it goes too fast or too slow or something’s missing. (Also, to see if anyone catches what Sean’s trying to do with his drawings he’s sending to Daniel.)

All I can think of to tag is @msmooseberry, but hmu if anyone else wants to be tagged in future LIS2 fics as well. :) 

When they take off Daniel’s ankle bracelet shortly after his 21st birthday, naturally, his first instinct is to take off to look for Sean in Mexico—and he would, but he resists.

He’s smart—he knows this is exactly what the government expects him to do—

So he doesn’t.

(The hell it’s hard not to just buy a plane ticket and go.)

Instead, he fantasises about the day he reunites again with his brother—he’d find him the moment the plane’s wheels hit tarmac, the moment he exits the terminal, and all would be well again.

(Sean still sends letters to Beaver Creek—all redirected now Daniel’s moved back to Seattle. Shit. What’s worse—Sean clearly refusing to imagine Daniel perished in the 2020 plague, or Daniel never being able to assure him for real?)

He has faith that Sean still loves him—even after Daniel leaving him alone at the border—but where is he? Faith and fantasy alone cannot guarantee him ever finding Sean in Mexico.

(He believes anyway. It’s what keeps his hope alive.)

He can wait another year.

He can.

Fuck, it aches to walk past travel agencies or see internet ads boasting cheap holiday plane tickets. He could walk in, or click an ad. Just one step or click and—

And he would cave in, he would book a plane to Mexico on the spot.

And so he doesn’t.

A year passes.

He’s now twenty-two—

And still he resists.

God. It’s torture.

He blocks all travel websites, avoids streets where there are travel agencies. It’s so bad, he’d sooner pass a church that looks eerily like the one in Havenpoint, than trust himself to walk past any travel shop.

Only one envelope from Sean this year—

A drawing—

Of Cassidy and Hannah with a herd of rather adorable-looking llama-like animals behind them.  Underneath, Sean had written: “Vicuñas! Warm and fuzzy and stupid adorable.”

It’s not cold comfort, but nor warm and fuzzy, knowing at least Sean isn’t entirely alone. That at least he can see the old gang from Humboldt County.

Lukewarm. Lukewarm comfort.

He lets the weeks and months plod on by, he buries himself deep into his first year of university.

A degree—he really doesn’t care much for his studies (Cs get degrees, as the saying goes), but at least it keeps him distracted enough from just flying off to Mexico.

And so another year passes.

 Twenty-three, he still doesn’t quite let himself go yet—

Maybe they’re still watching and waiting, expectant. But it’s been two years, hasn’t it? If he goes, he might not end up leading them straight to Sean.

But…what if he did?

It would be his fault, his doing.

They’d capture Sean, throw him behind bars, probably for life.

All thanks to Daniel.

So he resists, still. The agony is beyond unbearable.

But there’s no way he’s leading the government to Sean—he doesn’t trust them, ankle bracelet or no ankle bracelet.

At least Chris is there to distract him—he’s always there for him. Thank god.

Maybe he’ll go next year, but not this year. It’s too soon, too early.

He wakes up with a start on August 15th—Sean would be thirty now.

Thirty to Daniel’s twenty-three.

He’s never felt so old in his life. He’s twenty-three, and Sean has missed out on being there for all his milestones (so far anyway), for all his teen years.

He would be lying if he said he wasn’t jealous of other people who still had their older brother around. If only he’d never taken Sean for granted.

“I took you for granted, and I’m sorry!” Those words from so many years ago still haunts him.

Unlike Sean, he can’t say sorry for doing the same too.

If only he knew where Sean was now.

If only.

Another couple of drawings and a little photo from Sean: the drawing of a glorious waterfall catches his eye, and he practically frames it on a wall, it’s that stunning. Underneath is written: “Angel Falls—the highest waterfall in the world.”

The other drawing is of a group of adorable little monkeys (“Capuchin monkeys” is written underneath) feeding and resting together. It’s actually quite sweet.

But it hurts all the same. At least Sean’s not wasting his life in a 9-to-5 job that has, amazingly, not yet stolen Daniel’s soul.

It hurts. And he’d be lying if he said there wasn’t a healthy dose of jealousy too.

Still, he waits, biding his time still, waiting for the right moment to go.

And so another year flows on by.

 Twenty-four, and he still doesn’t know where Sean is, though he knows he must be alive somewhere.

For Daniel receives a couple of photos and a drawing; the photos both have generic blue skies and tropical greenery in the background, nothing that would identify him as being in any particular country.

The drawing—coloured in this time—is of a couple of yellow flowers; one has a little bee perched on a petal. Underneath are two words: “Ipê-amarelo.”

So where is he?

Is he in Mexico?

How will Daniel find his older brother again?

What plan does he even have beyond “take a plane to Mexico”?

How is he going to do this?

These thoughts stress him so much he gets the old nightmares again.

Of cults, of Lisbeth, of Sean with glass in his eye, of borders and vigilantes who hunted them.

Of being trapped in burning churches, being forced to endure punishment for his “sins”, of being trapped in a prison cell and not knowing where he is.

Chris insists that he has to go to Mexico, if not to give him some peace of mind, to give him something in his search. Surely by now, the government has moved on.

Chris tells Daniel he hates to see him in so much internal torture over going to Mexico or not—and he must. It’s not healthy for him to keep forcing himself to stay here in the USA, always wondering, never searching.

Sean would not want him to torture himself like this—

The road is scary, and Daniel is too comfortable in his little corner of the USA to venture outside.

He’s not like Brody, nor his mother, nor his brother—he has little desire to brave it out and travel.

The traumatic journey from Seattle to the border of Mexico all those years ago hadn’t helped matters at all.

But if he stays here, he’ll forever wonder if Sean is in Mexico, or elsewhere.

And so maybe Chris really is right, he really should go to Mexico.

If but for the peace of mind, to let him go on the journey he has to go on. Even if he doesn’t find Sean, at least he’ll know he tried.

So he finally caves in. He books a plane for next year—2032.

 It is now 2032—he goes in August, books in a holiday for two weeks, the second-to-last day not-so-accidentally coinciding with Sean’s birthday.

Surely, two weeks is enough time to drive around Mexico (he can rent a car and just drive around the place), and somehow run into Sean.

Mexico isn’t a big place, at least not compared to the United States. But Daniel wonders if Sean is even still in Mexico; it’s been fifteen years, he could have gone anywhere.

Surely he’s wandered far from Puerto Lobos by now—maybe he’s just as likely in Canada as he is at the tip of South America, where only the wide cold ocean separated him from Antarctica.

But at least for now he has to believe, has to hope that Sean’s still somewhere in Mexico. It’s a big, big planet, and he doesn’t know if he has enough bravery to go through dozens of foreign countries just to look for his brother.

It was one thing for Sean to look for him in Nevada—at least that was a place, one next door to California—but at least he’d had an idea where Daniel was at the time.

Now? Daniel may as well throw three darts at the world map and pick the first three countries to try to look for him.

Mexico was as good as any place to start—it made sense anyway, seeing as Sean had always wanted to go there.

He could only hope that he wasn’t about to waste two weeks and a few grand only to find no sign of Sean.

 He lands at Aeropuerto Internacional de Ciudad Obregon, and it isn’t the most flattering of places, the little town where he ends up staying for a couple days, but at least he’s here in Mexico. The buildings are sparse and plain, and there is little greenery to see, but the sky is as blue here as it is in Arizona across the border. The houses make him think of matchboxes and lighters and little motels huddled away in some isolated corner of Nevada.

If only he could have taken his own car down here, but he couldn’t, so he’d had to rent one for a fixed price per day—at least his office job back in the States paid him enough to be able to afford this. He can’t exactly live in it like he’d seen people do, but it gives him something to work with regardless.

He can’t help the anxiety that overwhelms him as he navigates a language not his own, but a language that was his father’s and his brother’s. Part of him wants to smack his past teenaged self for refusing to ever learn Spanish, after his brother had tried to use him to cross the border. Instead, he had learned French, much to his grandparents’ delight—both had learned French as high-schoolers back in the day, and were more than happy to help him out, even if they were a little rusty.

Now French was next to useless here in Mexico, and Daniel doubts that Sean was in France or in some other nation like Canada where French was one of the main languages.

Ironically, Chris had been the one to learn Spanish—he would’ve been a very useful presence right now.

Nevertheless, at least Daniel is in Mexico, and Puerto Lobos is not far away, Daniel being able to make his way northward, toward the same border Sean had crossed so many years ago.

Maybe he’s in Puerto Lobos, he hopes, even if some part of him tries to reason that after fifteen years, he might not even be there anymore. Or…maybe he’s moved somewhere along the coast?

Mexico was a bigger place than he had realised: perhaps its small size compared to the US had somewhat tricked him. Its border alone touched four states from west to east: California, Arizona, New Mexico, and Texas. It wasn’t exactly a small island nation stranded in the middle of the Pacific Ocean.

But no way Daniel was going to give up—and so he made his way up the west coast, the Gulf of California appearing and disappearing from view depending on what road he ended up on. Maybe, just maybe, he would see Sean along the way.

He can’t help but stop for a good part of a day at Punta Chueca, walking barefoot in the warm sand, the sun hot on his shoulders (it was tank top weather), sitting down at midday to have lunch, and then—fuck it—might as well have a swim too. At least he’d brought along swimwear just in case. He ponders the island of Isla Tiburon, which looks so close he imagines he could just swim right across to it. And he wonders if Sean might be on this island too, but he wants to stay on the mainland, keep going up the west coast.

It’s sort of a blessing that the places he passes through are so small, and it shouldn’t be that hard a task to find Sean, if he was still here. And that was a big if.

At least he’s now less than a day’s trip away from Puerto Lobos.

 Puerto Lobos greets him with soaking sunshine, lulling bright blue ocean that melts into the cloudless sky, and a tan, sandy beach that seems to go on forever. It is a lot smaller than he expected it to be; somehow, Sean had made it sound like this big, wide world where he could just get lost and never be found again.

Instead, it’s a little village, perched on the coast of Mexico, forever gazing out at Baja California that appears nothing more than a hint of land like damp watercolour smudged across a blue canvas. There is one little hotel here, with just a few rooms and one staff member who does all the things, but Daniel doesn’t mind. At least he can stop here for a day or so, and drive up and down Puerto Lobos to look for Sean.

He doesn’t know why it disappoints him so deeply when he doesn’t find Sean at all—he’d even shown the photo to some people, and they’d all shrugged or shook their heads, not recognising the man with the black glass  eye. Did Sean even still have a black glass eye, or had he replaced it with another colour, or even something that more closely resembled his remaining eye?

It doesn’t take long before Puerto Lobos’ width and breadth is exhausted in his search, but Daniel doesn’t let himself give up—yet. He still has another week or so; nevertheless, he spends the self-same night just staring at a map of Mexico, drawing with bold marker how far he’s been now.

It isn’t that impressive. It’s barely even much of the west coast, and this fills him with a sense of something dropping into the pit of his stomach, and he lets his head rest on the map, closing his eyes, feeling he could just fall asleep here from sheer exhaustion and burn out.

I can’t possibly search all of Mexico in two weeks…how am I supposed to search the world?

He wishes that Sean had at least sent a hidden address to their mom’s P.O. Box, but then he might have forgotten it, or hadn’t wanted anything more to do with Karen. Daniel had asked Jacob through Sarah Lee again and again, but Sean had never sent him an address either.

Nobody, not even their mom, seemed to have an idea where Sean was—not even a cellphone number to call.

It really, really wasn’t helping at all—and he knows now that it would take nothing short of a miracle to find him; if he can’t find him in Puerto Lobos of all places, then where the hell could Daniel look for him?

He doesn’t go any farther north than Puerto Lobos—he doubts that Sean would’ve wanted to be anywhere near the border.

And so Daniel returns to Ciudad Obregon, and he has but a few precious days left to venture southward this time, but with less enthusiasm than before.

He’s not going to find Sean.

He’s never going to find him here—

He could be anywhere in Mexico or the world—if Mexico felt so vast and endless now, how would South America, much less North America and Canada, then feel to Daniel?

This planet is just…way too big.

The towns south of Ciudad Obregon remind him again of the ones he’d seen farther north, and agriculture dots the landscape everywhere he looks. Daniel is sure Sean would never live in many of the little villages he passes through, but he keeps his eyes out anyway—

And suddenly, it’s time to go home—

He hadn’t even covered the entire west coast of Mexico.

When the 15th August comes around, Daniel has given up the search, and instead chooses to spend his day around Playa Huatabampito.

He wishes he could enjoy the palm trees, the setting sun, the lapping waves, and soft, cooling sand as much as the beachgoers here.

But he cannot, because now it’s all over.

It’s over.

Two weeks.

He had failed to find Sean.

All that money he’d wasted on a childish hope, a fantasy only found in fairy tales and fiction.

Today was Sean’s 32nd, and Daniel had failed to be there to surprise him for his birthday.

What a stupid, foolish man he was, to have fallen for his own naïve hopes and dreams—

The dream he’d find Sean in Mexico was as real as any he ever experienced in sleep. He’d fallen for his own stupid naivety, so gullible to believe and fall for his own convictions.

Of course he wasn’t ever going to find his brother. Mexico was way smaller than the USA, but that didn’t mean he’d find Sean any easier. Fuck. He could be anywhere on the fucking planet.

Would Daniel have to search the literal ends of the world for even the tiniest hopes of ever finding Sean? How many years could that take?

Either way—he had failed.

Maybe it would have been better if he’d never tried.

He should give up—there was a reason reunions between long-lost relatives happened only in movies and children’s books. Besides, would they even recognise each other now? He’d forgotten Sean’s voice.

Daniel stares out at the watery sun sinking into the distant horizon, drowning in the ocean, helpless. The otherwise soothing rhythm of the lapping waves does nothing to console him. It only hurts, thinking how in another time, in another life, he could’ve been here—or hell, in Puerto Lobos—enjoying the warm Mexican summer with his brother, perhaps even sharing a beer and pizza together.

But no.

He was alone now.

He’ll never see Sean again. Ever.

Daniel fumbles around for the sketchpad and pen he’d been carrying around since he’d landed here in some stupid hope that just having them in his backpack will give him la suerte—the luck—he needs to find Sean.

Placing the sketchpad on his crossed legs, he opens it to a new blank page, settling back against the lone palm tree behind him. He clicks the pen, a stark image of a lone little wolf cub howling at a bright full moon burning in his mind’s eye. After a few false starts, he begins sketching, the ghost of a wolf form emerging on the page. The world around him collapses to the wolf, like it was the only thing in existence, but for the whoosh of lapping waves, the wind striking his bare arms, and the soft warm sand under him.

When he finishes the sketch, he taps his pen on the page, thinking of a title to go with it. After a few seconds it finally comes to him, writing three words under the wolf’s little paws:

“The Lone Wolf”.

He stays very still, staring at the lone wolf cub howling at a cold, uncaring full moon. A drop of water blots the wolf’s front paw. He tears out the page, closing and dumping the sketchbook on the sand next to him.

“I—I wish I knew where you are. But now I know. I’m never gonna find you.” Daniel swipes his hand over his eyes. “You could be anywhere—and—we wouldn’t recognise each other anyway, right? I don’t even remember your voice anymore, Sean. I’m not even sure how to feel about that.”

It’s weirder still to think that the last time Sean had heard his voice, he still had the high lilt unique to a child’s. Or that his face was forever ten years old in his memory.

Daniel had grown into a full adult man, and yet, in Sean’s memories, he’s forever frozen in time as the ten-year-old he’d left behind. Sean had never seen him grow up into teen-hood, never had the chance to tease him when his voice broke, nor joke that he’ll never be as tall as Sean, nor ever make fun of the scant “beard” he managed at best. He never even saw him dress up for his first prom, go on his first date, discover his sexuality, or even graduate. To his surprise, his high-school graduation had felt bittersweet—yes, his grandparents and even his mother had been there, but…it was still not right for Sean to be absent, to not be there to be proud of him, to see him graduate high school.

Whether prom or graduation, he’d have given anything to have had Sean around.

Now, Daniel had not only robbed himself of having his older brother around, he’d also robbed Sean of watching him grow up into the young man he is today.

God.

It’s—

It’s enough to make him want to scream at the unfairness, to shout “Why?!” at the deaf, mute fates, to make him want to sob until his throat is raw, until his tears dry up and leave him an exhausted, shaken mess.

And so he—

And so he curls up into a ball, pressing his lower back into the tree trunk, pulling his knees up to his chest, burying his face in his arms, only the silent shuddering of his shoulders betraying his state. He feels the paper flutter from between his fingers, but doesn’t care. Let it fly over the sand, roll into the waves, disintegrate in the foam—like he cared.

It didn’t matter anymore.

He’d never, ever see Sean again.

It’s not like he can repeat his teen years over again, so what was the point? He was twenty-five, what more could Sean miss, short of engagement and marriage and graduation from university?  

What even was the point if Sean wouldn’t even see him cross the stage for his undergraduate degree? If Sean would never see him marry the love of his life? If Sean would never see him promoted in some nebulous dream career?

They’d all be tainted with the knowledge he had robbed Sean of seeing him grow up, seeing him succeed in life—

All because of a second of impulse, a moment of panic, of not wanting to hurt anyone else—not even the policemen at the border who would have killed him and Sean without remorse.

And now he knew: he had no choice but to give up.

And now tomorrow…

Tomorrow, he will return to the USA, none the wiser about Sean’s whereabouts in Mexico, let alone the whole world.

[justagirlwithapen32]

And Time Came Round Again

He found her presence familiar. She thought she'd dealt with his death. A tale of two soul-mates separated by time, reuniting briefly once more. NejiSaku fluff, time travel.

Neji was minding his own business (he really was) when it happened. One moment he was leaping through the trees, returning to the village from a solo mission, the next, he was flung back as a chakra explosion erupted almost directly in front of him. There’d been no hint of it, not a single warning, despite not having his byakugan activated. Even without it, there should have been some sign, but there had been nothing.

There was an overload of chakra emanating from where it had happened, and Neji could feel it permeating him, though he had no idea how it was doing that. There was nothing he could do about it, except get treatment once he returned to the village, but in the meantime, he was obliged to investigate what had happened. And what was happening. Right in the middle of where the explosion had occurred, the basic outline of a person appeared.

Rather quickly, that outline became an actual person, a male, roughly six foot, twenty-seven to thirty years old. Neji instinctively took note of the man’s features, also noting the scratched Kiri hitai-ate on his head. He immediately moved into a defensive stance, but the nukenin ignored him, taking off immediately. The Hyuuga prodigy would have given chase, but four more outlines appeared, then coalesced into four Leaf ANBU operatives.

“Where’s the target?” one with a dog mask immediately spoke, and a cat masked ANBU pointed in the direction the nukenin had taken off in.

“Cat, Bear, track him down, I’ll be there in a minute.” The two ANBU in question immediately took off. “Fox, it seems there’s an eyewitness,” the ANBU who seemed to be the Captain spoke. “Check him for chakra residue. Hyuuga, over here, now.”

Years of automatically following his superior’s orders had Neji moving over to them without question. “Fox,” the Captain said. “Can you handle this? Fox? Fox!”

The Fox ANBU had been staring at him, Neji realised belatedly. “Sorry, taichou,” the ANBU spoke, their voice feminine. “Hyuuga, this way, I need to check you over.”

“I’m heading out after Cat and Bear,” the Captain said. “Get rid of the chakra, Fox, then send him off. We’ll be back as soon as we acquire the target.”

“Yes, taichou,” Fox said, and then Neji was alone with the ANBU.

“Sit over here,” Fox said, indicating to a fallen log.

Neji sat and watched as the ANBU approached him, hands glowing green. A medic, then. The way she worked on him filled him with a sense of familiarity, and he wondered if he knew her. Not that he would ask, she was ANBU, after all. No one was supposed to know who they were. The glowing hands hovered over him in diagnostic mode, before a hand came down to rest on his chest so she could begin eliminating the chakra they’d spoken of.

Years of training to notice things allowed Neji to realise that the ANBU was shaking slightly as she healed him. There were few who would even notice such a thing, she hid it well. His observation skills were almost unparalleled, though.

“Are you alright, ANBU-san?” he asked. “Your hand is shaking slightly.”

“Oh! Uh… side effect of the chakra,” she told him, and Neji wasn’t entirely sure that was true. “How are you feeling, Hyuuga-san? Any dizziness or shaking yourself?”

“A little nausea,” Neji admitted. “No shaking, though.”

She nodded and concentrated on the healing. The minutes ticked by, then she said, “Sorry I was staring at you before. You just… You remind me of someone I knew once, someone who… who died. He, um… He was a Hyuuga, like you.”

Neji tried to think of his family members who might have died in the last decade, with a few who came to mind. She seemed to realise what he was thinking (though how, he had no idea) and said, “It was a long time ago, during the war.”

“Ah.”

Then this kunoichi might be older than he’d been mentally calculating. He’d thought she might be in her early twenties, but if she’d lost her Hyuuga friend in the third shinobi war, then she might be older, perhaps in her thirties, then. He knew that Gai-sensei was about thirty at the moment, though he’d denied it vehemently when Tenten had brought it up the other week.

“I’ve nearly finished,” she murmured. “There’s quite a bit of the chakra here… Were you standing right next to it or something?”

“If you mean the chakra explosion, it happened almost directly in front of me,” Neji told her.

“That would do it,” she said.

She was rather chatty for an ANBU, Neji decided, especially when she asked, “So, how old are you, Hyuuga? Sixteen, maybe?”

“Seventeen, ANBU-san,” he replied, and she sighed.

“Aah, I miss being seventeen,” she said. “So young and naive to the world, despite everything going on around me… Got yourself a girlfriend, Hyuuga?”

A wistful image of pink hair flitted though his mind, and Neji stiffened slightly at the question. The ANBU noticed though, and was immediately apologising. “Sorry if I’m being too forward, Hyuuga-san,” she spoke. “Just trying to alleviate any tension. Aah! There you go. All fixed up now. Still nauseas?”

“A little,” Neji admitted, feeling that sensation of familiarity wash over him again.

He realised then that her manner was rather similar to a certain medic nin he knew, but she was definitely not in ANBU. “The feeling should pass, Hyuuga-san,” she told him. “Just stay seated for at least ten minutes, then you should be fine.”

They stayed there for awhile, Neji sitting stiffly on the log, wondering at how much she reminded him of Sakura, feeling uncomfortable as the ANBU tried not to be too obvious with her staring. After about ten minutes, Neji was about to speak up about heading back to the village, when suddenly the ANBU captain was there. Fox jumped up and immediately went over to check on him.

“Everything’s done,” the Captain said as Fox healed his minor wounds. “Is he clear of the chakra?”

“All of it is purged from his system,” Fox said, stepping back once her job was done. “He’s good to go.”

The Captain turned to him. “Head back to the village now,” he said. “I don’t think I need to stress with you the need to not mention this to anyone.”

Neji nodded and stood. “I understand, ANBU-taichou,” he said, bowing slightly.

Neji took off then, resuming his course back to the village. Before he was out of range, he gave in to his curiosity and activated his byakugan, looking back to see Fox, leaning into her Captain as if for support. She was shaking… crying, Neji realised. Quickly deactivating his kekkei genkai, he quickened his pace and resolved to put this matter behind him.

OoOoO

Sakura tried to hold back her tears, but when Kakashi opened his arms, she fell into them immediately, letting loose her sobs. It had been so unexpected, to see him here. After all these years, having to put his death behind her, to move on, when the two of them hadn’t really been able to… Her heart twisted and she sobbed harder, oblivious to her returning team mates, their target flung over Yamato’s shoulder.

Yamato and Sai stood by awkwardly as Sakura cried, until Sai hesitantly spoke up, “Perhaps it would be best if we returned. I… I know Ino-chan will be willing to assist in comforting you.”

Sakura pulled away from Kakashi, trying to get a hold of herself. “Y-yes,” she stuttered. “We should d-definitely go now.”

“Will you be alright, Sakura?” Yamato asked, and she nodded.

As they headed off to a secluded area to begin the trip home, Sakura thought briefly on why they were there. Orochimaru had sent a message, telling them that a nukenin had stolen some research into time travel that he had. It had taken them months, but they’d finally managed to track him down, just as he was attempting the time travelling jutsu.

Thanks to the research they’d done, they were able to do their own jutsu, and even managed to turn up exactly when he had. Now they had to get the nukenin back and destroy all evidence and research for the jutsu. Orochimaru hadn’t been happy with that part, but it was necessary in exchange for their help.

“Alright, everyone ready?” Kakashi asked, then he and Sai started up the jutsu.

Sakura smiled softly at the idea of seeing her daughter soon, and, if reports were correct, maybe her husband as well.

They vanished in a flash of light, back to the future.

[treatian]

The Chronicles of the Dark One: Breaking the Curse

Chapter 56: The Madness of the Evil Queen

Ordinarily, he would have dismissed Regina's ramblings as the whinings of a girl about to lose everything. But something about her behavior left him unsettled for the day. He knew Regina. He knew that this part would be a risk. When Regina was under pressure, she did stupid things. Hell, the last time she'd been this upset at her step-daughter and he'd given her the Curse, she'd gone out and settled for a poison apple. That had ultimately been fine, he supposed. It was a delay, but all had turned out okay in the end. This time, however, he didn't have the patience for stupidity anymore. And he didn't want it to be like last time where he had to wait for her to come and brag to him about a stupid idea she'd put into place. He wanted as much information as he could get.

He didn't like not having eyes on Emma throughout the day, but Dove hadn't called back regarding his parents, and he wasn't too terribly worried about her at the moment. Fortunately, he was happy to still have eyes on Regina. One of Dove's cousins was still watching the woman, and he was all too eager to call the bird and order him to pay close attention to the Evil Queen. He wanted to know what she was doing, where she was going, and what she was thinking; though in this world, knowing what she was thinking was only something he was going to get to the bottom of if he knew the first two. He didn't know how to prepare himself for what he found out throughout the day.

Regina hadn't gone to her office after he'd spoken with her. Instead, she'd gone home to fetch something. Mark couldn't tell what it was, but she'd put it in her car and then driven to the school. It was the strangest thing. Mark said that Regina had gotten out of her car, walked around a bit, and then gotten right back into her car. When she'd first pulled up, Mark had expected Henry forgot something, and she was there to drop it off, or perhaps she was planning on picking him up early from school. But as far as he noticed, she hadn't seen or spoken to anyone, not even her son, even though school let out only thirty minutes later. According to Mark, she'd been there all of five minutes before she'd gone back to her office.

It was nerve-racking. That visit looked like nothing. That was how he knew it couldn't actually be nothing. But he was helpless to do anything except wait at the store for more information, more clues to help him put this together.

The next clue came maybe an hour later in the form of a text message. Just left her office with a man, they got into a car, following."

He didn't bother to send a return message. He wanted Mark's eyes on Regina, not his phone. So he waited. He went into the back, sat at his wheel, and spun for a time to relieve some of the tension he felt. He wanted to know everything. Where they were going, what they were doing, who the stranger she was with could possibly be…

When the call finally came, the information made him sick to his stomach. The man who couldn't be identified was none other than Jefferson. Mark had been able to get a better look at him and properly identify him when they'd arrived at their destination, the Storybrooke cemetery. Specifically, the Mills family crypt. Mark reported that they'd both gone in together, spent perhaps twenty minutes total inside, and then come out again and gone their separate ways. Regina had been carrying something in her hand that she hadn't been carrying when she'd gone in.

Fuck.

He couldn't see Jefferson because of the deal they'd made. He'd promised he'd never see his face on his doorstep ever again. But he could call him, get him to tell him what he knew.

"Why on earth would you work with the Evil Queen, and what did she want from you?" he demanded in as smooth a way as possible.

"What everyone wants from me, a ticket into other worlds. I'm tired of waiting. I want my daughter back!"

"Regina will betray you."

"If she can get me my daughter, then that's what I'll do, damn the risks. I've taken risks in the past, and you better believe I'm going to take one to get my daughter back."

"You think this is what your daughter wants? That she'll be proud?"

"I don't care, and I know you don't either, so don't pretend like you do. Regina can do what you can't. I've waited long enough."

And then he heard a click, and the line went dead.

He swore loudly at that reaction. His old friend didn't sound well. He sounded crazed and frenzied, angry in a way that he hadn't ever known him to be. He wanted to go over there himself and get his answers, but he felt certain that it would break their deal, and if the Curse did break, he wasn't about to suffer those consequences. He could send some of his thugs out after Jefferson, but when he thought of all they'd been, he couldn't stomach it. Besides, it wouldn't work. Jefferson knew how he worked, what steps he'd take. He knew not to go home for fear of all that. His next play, whatever it was, would be unpredictable as Regina's. Oddly enough, he was fine with that.

Jefferson hadn't dealt well with the loss of his child, at least not the way that he had. And he couldn't really blame him. All these years, he'd had the reassurance of a Seer that he'd be reunited. Jefferson had…what…his word? Regina's word? What was that worth to a man missing his child? No, Jefferson was beyond his help now unless he was able to break the fucking Curse! And right now, all hope on that rested with a puppet who hadn't told him what was going on.

At sunset, he got another call from Regina's guard. Something odd had happened, odd enough that Mark felt the need to call while he drove. After Jefferson, Regina had gone back to her house. And who had shown up? None other than Emma Swan.

Why had she arrived? He hadn't a clue, only told him that the women seemed fairly cordial as they spoke. Regina invited Emma in. The visit was two, three, maybe five minutes tops, and then Emma Swan left the premises carrying something with her. What was it? He didn't know that either. It was a plastic container of something.

Roughly five minutes after Emma left, so did Regina. She was on her way back into town. He assumed it had been for her office, perhaps to do some of the work that was surely piling up while she ran around doing whatever in the fuck she thought she was doing. But she didn't.

He hid it well, barely glancing up from his ledger when the bell to his store went off again, but the truth was that he nearly sighed in relief. Finally, a conversation with the Queen, herself. He could get things out of her that his men couldn't. And he was more determined than ever to get to the bottom of whatever game she was playing.

Regina came sauntering into the place, looking like a woman pleased with herself. That excited him…a proud Regina meant she'd want to do some gloating, and gloating meant that her tongue would be loose enough to reveal more than a couple of facts he was dying to know.

"I hope you bought travel insurance because no one's going anywhere," she stated with the arrogance of a child in her voice.

"Oh, really?" he questioned, feigning a lack of true interest. "And why's that?"

"Because I found a solution to my Emma Swan problem."

"Oh, yes?" he prompted, continuing to work even as she bragged. She wanted to act like a child. He'd treat her as one…one throwing a temper tantrum that didn't deserve recognition. She'd be so irritated he didn't care more that she'd make his job a lot easier.

"An old, reliable solution."

He froze, unable to hide his shock at what she'd just said. . "Old and reliable"…where had he heard those words before. Regina might be a child having a tantrum, but she was a child that potentially had magic. Suddenly he recalled the plastic container that Mark had seen Emma leaving Regina's property with. Food was kept in containers like that. It was impossible, given that they were in the middle of a Curse, but…if he was right, and she'd done what she was hinting at, then she really had gone with an old plan, hadn't she?

"A Sleeping Curse," he assumed, watching her expression for confirmation. Her gaze said it all, and it took every fiber in his being not to swear out loud at her. How the hell had she managed that?! "Might I ask how you managed to obtain one here in Storybrooke?"

"By sacrificing the last bit of magic I had left."

He nearly laughed. For one so bright as she was, sometimes she could also be utterly stupid. Magic wasn't just about mastering the trickier spells; it was also about remembering the basics. Perhaps she'd forgotten in her years here.

"So, you made magic from magic. Well, I'm sure I don't have to remind you that, uh, all magic comes with a price."

Regina leaned forward. "Then you can pay it. Because now, the Curse is going to be stronger than ever. And you will be right here where you belong."

He had to walk away from her. He had to keep thinking, to keep busy, anything but let a single hint of expression show on his face. "Stronger than ever"…he had hope in the fact that he knew this Curse didn't work like that. It had a weakness, and the weakness was here, closer than she'd ever been. She was angry at Regina, and Regina was angry at her. Didn't she see? All this did was have the opposite effect. It was making the Curse weaker. And as for "old reliable"…how quickly she'd forgotten just how unreliable that plan of hers had been. He hadn't. But he also hadn't forgotten how much of a hand he'd played on making sure "old reliable" hadn't worked. He'd done it once; he could do it again.

"Don't you understand?" Regina shouted at him as he moved around the table, following after him, acting like some kind of puppy dog seeking gratification. Sometimes she really did remind him of her mother and sister. "I won! So, whatever plan you had, whatever reason you wanted the curse broken…too bad. Because it's never going to happen."

She placed her hand on the globe in front of her and gave it a spin before exiting dramatically. He wished he could state that an exit like that was unnecessary. Given the situation he suddenly found himself confronted with, he couldn't say that.

[mononoke-himes]

So today I finally typed up a masterlist for my OCs. Here it is:

Sherlock:

⁃ Amy Olivia “Liv” Watson: adopted daughter of John Watson and Sherlock Holmes. 16 in seasons 1-2, 18 in seasons 3-4. orphaned member of Sherlock’s Homeless Network. John decided to adopt her shortly after the Fall, and it was revealed by Sherlock that he’d actually planned to do the same after he returned. so John and Sherlock are essentially her co-parents.

⁃ Leila Madeline Morris (Holmes): former resident of the US, she moved to London 10 years before the events of A Study In Pink after spending a semester abroad in London for school. dated Jim Moriarty (under the alias of Jim Moran) during her first three years in London but broke things off after Jim became oddly distance (she suspected it was because he was actually gay, but really it’s because he was continuing to build his criminal network. Jim went along with her theory though). two years later she opened a bookstore on Baker Street which is when she met Sherlock. she offered the shop as a sort of home base for the Homeless Network, which Sherlock gladly accepted. she is essentially Sherlock’s second-in-command when it comes to the Network. over time she begins to develop feelings for Sherlock and after the Fall she makes those feelings more clear. to her surprise he feels the same as her and they marry in secret shortly before the events of His Last Vow. AU: instead of Moriarty playing along with Leila’s theory, he tells her the truth and she essentially becomes his right hand man.

Star Wars:

⁃ Vanka Dameron: Poe’s younger sister. the two were separated at a young age when she was taken by the First Order. after being taken she was trained as a pilot in the First Order and eventually became their best pilot. by chance she and Poe are reunited and she realizes that someday she might have to kill her own brother. the thought proves too much for her and she joins the Resistance, where she serves as their second best pilot (Poe being the first).

⁃ Cressida “Cress” Straysa: fellow bounty hunter and ally to the Mandalorian. she and Din have known each other for many years. one day a bounty is mysteriously put on her head and Din is sent to bring her in. Din can’t betray his friend so the two set out to kill whoever unjustly put the bounty on her head.

Harry Potter:

⁃ Elizabeth “Eliza” Carlisle: Marauders era. Ravenclaw who befriends the Marauders and Lily Potter. member of the Order of the Phoenix. she was the first love of Remus Lupin, but is tragically killed one day while fighting with The Order.

Lord of the Rings/The Hobbit:

⁃ Elonni Turpin: half elf/half human. father was a man and her mother was an elf. since she’s a halfbreed she isn’t truly accepted by many of the elves (with Elrond, Legolas, and Tauriel being the exceptions). more human in appearance, but she does age the same as the elves. member of Thorin Oakenshield’s band during the events of The Hobbit (when around late teens/early twenties in appearance) and later assists The Fellowship (when around late twenties/early thirties in appearance). close friend of Bilbo Baggins and a skilled archer.

Marvel:

⁃ Maureen Meredith Quill (Strange): Peter Quill’s twin sister, though Peter is the elder between the two. her mother called her Star-Lady, but she prefers the name Gemini since it’s the sign of twins. shortly before the events of Thor Ragnarok, Mori feels something calling her back to Earth. she heads back to Earth and finds herself at the New York Sanctum where she meets Stephen Strange. Maureen begins to train as a sorcerer, even starting a little relationship with Stephen. she eventually reunites with part of her old team during the events of Infinity War. Maureen survives the Snap and takes over the mantle of Sorcerer Supreme in Stephen’s absence. the two of course reunite during Endgame and eventually marry.

⁃ Olivia Alben aka Vega: original X-Men trilogy era. powers include energy manipulation and slight telepathy. like a daughter to Logan.

⁃ Angela May Parker aka Spider-Girl: Spider-Man alternate dimension where Peter looses both of his legs after a freak accident during a battle. Angela convinces her father to transfuse some of his venom-infused blood into her so she can obtain his spider-like powers and take over the mantle of Spider-Man for him. would eventually tie into spiderverse.

[rogerblackwolf]

The Last Dragon

Estate of Elder Barnabus Jaeger

Bures, Suffolk, England

-2010-

The car ride was mostly silent as the family of three drove through the countryside. The father, a well-dressed man in his mid to late thirties with neatly combed dark hair and a trimmed beard, was driving while also following the directions on his smartphone. His wife, a beautiful woman equal to him in age dressed in a black dress and blazer, was simply taking in the countryside and occasionally checking on their son, a teen dressed similar to his father listening to his iPod. She had wondered where the years had gone, especially since they had just left a funeral. The service was for her husband’s father, a World War II veteran as well as former member of the SAS, Barnabus Jaeger, or “Barnie” as he was called by his mates and family. 

Barnabus loved his family as well, he always had something good to say and rarely raised his voice, and to his only grandson Henry he was a constant inspiration. Other than Barnabus’ military service, the wife knew that after the war he married young and went to college to study finance. He then went on to work for a successful corporation, which he later became CEO of, that helped him take care of his family, his wife Emily passed away only four years prior but Barnabus still managed his company. Sadly he took a turn health wise, he was mostly healthy but the loss of his wife took its toll. The wife took solace in knowing at least he would be reunited with his wife, hopefully filling the hole her loss left in his heart.

The car turned down a one way road and immediately into a driveway, they stopped in the driveway in front of a small mansion. It was only two stories tall, but the interior made it feel much larger, there were ten bedrooms, five baths, several offices, an attic, and a basement. The design was Victorian, which made it seem old but it was surprisingly well maintained, Barnabus did like making things last. As the family slowly drove, they noticed another car had already parked. 

“I reckon that’s the attorney.” The husband said, parking next to the black sedan.

“I reckon so. Henry, we’re here.” The wife added, before tapping her son on the knee.

The boy took out his earbuds then looked at his mother and father, they both managed to smile despite the reasons being at his grandfather’s home. 

“This won’t take long, promise.” The father said, patting his son’s head.

“You alright?” The mother asked her son.

The son only nodded, not feeling up to talk at the moment.

The family then got out of their sedan, stretching for a moment before walking to the front door, which opened suddenly, allowing them to be greeted by a familiar face. Before them stood a short but stout woman dressed in a Victorian style maid uniform, her auburn hair done up in a bun, and though she was mature in age she had a youthful attitude. Her freckled cheeks plumped up as she smiled warmly, doing a curtsy as she welcomed the family;

“Master Benjamin, Mistress Eveline, and young Master Henry, Welcome.”

“Hello Annette.” The parents said in unison, both sharing a chuckle how synchronized it was.

“Hi Annette.” Henry added, smirking for a moment before his frown returned.

Annette let the family in and took their coats before quickly returning.

“It’s good to see you again Annette, I wish it wasn’t on such terrible timing.” Eveline said.

“Oh think nothing of it, Master Barnabus was not one to be sad in such times. He always believed when he passed that we remember his life and not mourn his passing. If it’s not too bold of me to say.” Annette said.

“It’s alright, but I’m afraid we are also here on business. I assume the lawyer is here?” Benjamin asked Annette.

“Oh yes, they’re waiting in the office, right this way.” Annette answered, guiding them down the halls to a set of double doors, inside the sprawling office were three individuals, two men and one woman, the woman was the oldest of the trio in her mid forties while the two men seemed in their early twenties. The woman was holding a briefcase as the parents turned to Annette.

“Annette, why don’t you take Henry somewhere quiet, we shouldn’t be long.” Benjamin said.

“Be good Henry, listen to Annette.” Eveline said to Henry before he nodded and smiled warmly.

“Come along young Master, I’ll fix you something to turn that frown upside down.” Annette said with a smile. She then took Henry’s hand and led him away from the room. Benjamin and Eveline shook the woman’s hand before taking their seats as did the woman, the two men standing behind her on both sides.

“Hello Mr. and Mrs. Jaeger, my name is Bella Haleigh. I am the attorney provided by your father’s company and the Executor of his Will and Estate.” She spoke.

“Pleasure to meet you Ms. Haleigh.” Benjamin said.

“Yes, a pleasure.” Eveline replied.

“Before we start, let me just express my deepest condolences for your loss Mr. and Mrs. Jaeger.” Bella added.

“Thank you, Ms. Haleigh, it has been rough for all of us.” Benjamin said, with Eveline taking his hand in comfort.

“Your father was a great inspiration to us all. Forgive me for asking, but was that your son, Henry?” Bella asked.

“Yes, he was. I guess my father talked about him, huh?” Benjamin asked.

“Very fondly, he adored Henry. Forgive me for asking, but how old is he?” Bella asked.

“He just turned fifteen recently.” Eveline answered

“Oh fun age, your father had it in his mind that Henry would follow in his footsteps at the company.” Bella said.

“Well, he will make his decision in due time, then again he has it in his mind he wants to be an Art Curator.” Eveline added.

“Yes, we all have to make decisions in time, some tougher than others. I for one would be happy to have him in our company. The Financial district has very good benefits. But down to business I won't take too much of your time.” Bella said, opening her briefcase and retrieving the will.

As they tended to their business, Annette had treated Henry to some warm lavender tea, his favorite. It seemed to help for a time but Annette could sense he still had a dark cloud hanging over him. Suddenly Annette hatched an idea, she knew exactly what would cheer him up. 

"Young Master, why don't you go into your Grandfather's study while I see to my duties. I know your Grandfather left something in there for you." Annette said.

Henry smirked before walking through the halls passing portraits of medieval knights, suits of armor on stands with their swords and shields, the large portrait of his grandfather with the family, and the family flag of a red dragon holding a shield with its wings outstretched. Eventually Henry came to a room he remembered quite well, his grandfather’s study. The room was circular with several bookcases that went to the ceiling, on the far left side was a window that overlooked a pond in the garden where a gazebo was also set up. Henry walked over to the large desk where his grandfather would work and spend many nights in thought. He noticed a thick leather bound notebook on the desk with a note that said “for Henry” taped to its cover.

Henry gently removed the taped note and read it silently to himself;

“Dear Henry

Though my time in this world has come to an end, I have no regrets. My time was brief, and despite the horrors I have seen, my life was filled with so much wonder I can only thank God for how much I have been blessed. Especially for the joy you brought into my life. As a soldier I fought for my country and as a father I protected those who were dearest to me, my honor is assured.

This journal contains my memoirs and the truth of what I did, where I went, the things I encountered, and what I lost. Every word is true, no matter how fantastically absurd some of it may sound. As you grow older, I hope that you never lose your sense of wonder. Do not forget the things you enjoy and surround yourself with likeminded people, those people will always be your truest of friends. If I must have one regret, it is that I personally didn’t get to tell you of my adventures, I hope you can forgive me for that. 

Since it is Fate that we be separated on earth, I hope we’ll meet again in Heaven.

Remember me in your fondest memories.

Your Grandpa Barnie

Always.”

Henry sat in the chair as his hands trembled. A couple of his tears stained the bottom of the note so he sat it on the desk to avoid staining it more. After drying his face and calming himself he folded the note and placed it to the side before picking up the journal. It was an old leather bound style, the leather was aged and worn in some places, mostly around the edges. It smelled old as well, like aged ink and faint glue, and the binding was starting to come loose but it was still holding together. Taking a deep breath, he opened the journal.

The first page had a hand drawn portrait of a much younger Barnabus, Henry couldn’t help but see the similarities they shared. From the sparse stubble to the nose and even the curly hair, it all made him smile and even chuckle. The first few pages were of Barnabus’s being born in 1919, his childhood in post Great War Britain, his father was a veteran who struggled greatly until he was given the opportunity to work in construction. The next pages spoke of his family being German immigrants, which was the origin of their family name, “Jaeger’’ meaning “hunter”. Henry skipped ahead several pages, settling on the page that labeled his time in the army; at the start of World War II he readily joined the effort.

As he read further, Henry read a passage that was both disturbing and unbelievable;

“I was on night patrol with a couple of my mates along the coast just a couple hundred yards from our base camp, ours was one of many Anti-Aircraft Batteries along the coast to defend against bombing raids. We were part of a platoon, nearly fifty men, it had been quiet the previous couple nights so everyone was incredibly relaxed. We would regret not being prepared. The first time I heard it, I brushed it off as simply a gust of wind, a breeze from the ocean. The second time my squadmate, Joseph Makkey, turned to me and asked “you heard that, right?”, all three of us began looking to the sky. 

The moon was high but there was some overcast that obstructed any clear view. The sound was clearer now, a whoosh of wind followed by some kind of growl, but not the growl of an engine. No, this growl was too natural, no plane engine could imitate it. Suddenly the silence was broken by this haunting shouting voice, followed by several terrible roars. The world was ablaze as streams of fire rained onto our camp, the sounds of my comrades screaming filled the air as their bodies melted to ash, explosions of our ammunition and vehicles filled us with terror. 

Me and my squadmates ran to the camp, our training taking over, but before we could reach the outskirts, I saw them. Three large black shapes silhouetted against the moon as they got into formation to come around for another pass, I shouted to my mates as they reached the camp before me but it was too late as three pillars of flame descended from the sky. One moment my friends were in front of me, the next they were engulfed in flame, somehow I got a clear look as these creatures flew overhead. Each one was at little over thirty feet long with a wingspan of comparable length, scaled bodies, leathery wings like a demon, and from their mouths came fire. On their backs were men shouting and whooping in celebration as they saw their handiwork, the one leading them shouted something, and as quickly as they appeared they were gone.

As the fires died and morning came I silently sat surrounded by the ashes of my platoon, some of the bodies were barely even skeletons. At my feet was Joseph Makkey, his face was coated in ash, his torso was scorched of all flesh, and nothing but brittle blackened bones below his waist. His uniform had melted to his body, almost replacing his skin but what I will forever remember is the look in his eyes. How scared they looked, how much pain he was in, the raw agony of the fire. For so long I cursed God for leaving just me, why was I allowed to live and not more? Out of the fifty men in my camp, Why was I the only one who survived? They stayed forever young, and here I am still…”

Henry was a mix of sad and disbelief at how horrible his grandfather really felt, that under that chipper and loving exterior was a man who had been through Hell itself. Henry read the journal more, finding out that after the incident, which was labeled a surprise bombing, Barnabus was approached by a man who claimed to be part of the SAS. What stood out though was how knowledgeable this man was about the creatures that Barnabus saw, describing them as “Firedrakes”. He went into greater detail about them, adding that they were being used by the Germans as part of their Blitzkrieg, but also told Barnabus that the information would not be free. The other pages read about how Barnabus joined the man in a secret organization called The Order, the cost for surviving and knowing of their existence. 

As Henry read through the journal, back in the office downstairs the meeting was close to wrapping up with Ms. Haleigh set the will to the side and grabbed a final piece of paper.

“Now that we have the legal matters settled, it was the last request of your father that I read this to both of you.” She began, before reading the letter.

“Benjamin and Eveline 

While the mansion and estate have been my home in the twilight of my life, it barely felt like home since your mother, my Emily, passed away. Since it now belongs to you both, I will not fault you should you choose to sell it, all I ask is that my personal journal and my war chest be given to Henry. I know he has been interested in my adventures, and my one regret is I was unable to tell him everything. My hope is that even though my life has come to an end, I can continue to be part of his.

Your Father Barnabus” Ms. Haleigh finished.

Benjamin looked at Eveline and both agreed while they had their jobs in Cambridge it wouldn’t be too much of a change. If anything, moving into the mansion would mean adjusting for drive time since it was an hour from Cambridge to Suffolk. They could also agree that it couldn’t hurt for Henry to have some of his Grandfather’s things, it’s what Barnabus would’ve wanted anyway. And the country air would likely do them all some good, and the village people were all so nice. As the couple finished their business, Henry was still reading the passages in the journal.

He was barely a quarter through, learning Barnabus had joined a special battalion meant to hunt down and kill these dragons, they were aptly called The Dragonslayers. Several more pages described the Firedrakes used by the German’s Elite Air Division, most were thirty feet long from nose to tail, Barnabus did note that while he and his comrades brought down larger Firedrakes, the thirty footers were the most common. The Firedrakes only had four limbs, two wings, which folded to allow for walking on all fours, and two back legs and they could breath fire that could reach up to a thousand degrees fahrenheit. The Germans used hidden factories as breeding depots to churn out hundreds of these creatures in a matter of months and used strange devices that grew them to adults within only a couple months of hatching. There were detailed drawings of the creatures with lengths and wingspans, even descriptions of the saddles of the German riders along with their flight suits and equipment. 

Several pages later showed some new creatures that resembled the type of dragons he had seen in storybooks, four legs and a pair of wings, not to mention the depiction of them breathing fire. There was a chart labeling the sizes of the European dragon throughout their lifecycle;

“-Hatchling-Infant- around 20 inches long, 10 inches tall at the shoulder, wingspan comparable to body length, incapable of flight, unable to breath fire, scales are rough to the touch but not thick. Pupils are round and horns are nubby. After 6 weeks the hatchling is considered an infant and stays near its parent or nest. Susceptible to small arms fire.

-Wyrmling- around 40-50 years of age, 40 to 45 feet from nose to tail, standing 10 to 15 feet at the shoulder, pupils have constricted to a more vertical shape, horns have lengthened and sharpened to points, wingspan is same as body length, and scales have begun to grow dense. Scales have the same armor density as 25mm of steel, most small arms unable to penetrate. Heavy weapons or anti-tank weapons are advised.

-Adult- adulthood begins around 80 years of age, up 90 feet long from nose to tail, standing 30 feet tall at the shoulder, scale armor density equivalent to 90mm of steel, eyes have dim glow to them, horns show wear and tear, scales are bright and brilliant in color. Tank and air support is heavily advised.

-Great Wyrm- approximately 100 years of age, 140 feet long from nose to tail, 40 feet at the shoulder, scale armor density equivalent to 110mm of steel, eyes brightly glow, sometimes glossing over the pupil, horns beginning to splinter at the tips, wingspan same as body length, scales in some parts show signs of scale rot. Aside from breathing fire, one was observed to use lightning as a breath weapon and as an area of effect attack. Tank support, heavy artillery, and air support is required.

-Elder Wyrm- several centuries old, 280 to 300 feet long and 80 feet tall at the shoulder, scale armor density is near impenetrable except when worn down by continuous heavy weapon fire, scale rot has set in and is most visible around where the joints flex and bend. The body is covered in horn and spine growth, the wingspan is equivalent to the body length and capable of hurricane level gusts. The rarest of the dragon species, very little information, other than infield hunting, is known.``

Henry was confused by that last note, as he thought dragons were just fairytales. Yet why would his Grandfather have so much information on them? He turned the page to find several maps of France, Germany, Eastern Europe, Scandinavia, and even England itself, all maps had X’s along with a date and page number next to them, each one signifying where various dragons were killed during and after the war. He flipped through the journal some more, passing a page that made him go back. This one had a location and a date, “Southern Bavaria, 1950, Elder Wyrm, casualties 97 of 110”, steeling himself, Henry read the passage.

“It was a warm summer day, in the shadows of these mountains I’m pretty sure they were the Chiemgau Alps. There was this village we had arrived at situated in this peaceful valley, but there were wyrmling sightings in the area, we feared that meant an Adult was roaming around. The Order sent a hundred and ten of us to investigate, we had support from four Centurion tanks, each with a crew of four, a battery of these 5.5 inch guns, six whole guns with ten men on each one, and that left only thirty-four of us to engage the beast on foot. Well not on foot per say as we all had horses that we would be riding, like the knights of old. We waited into the night, we all sat and talked about the finer things, family back home, situations abroad, and other things. 

I remembered my time with the Dragon Slayers as we took the fight to the Germans, I remembered while the Firedrakes were used to take on our armed forces the Dragons themselves were reserved for more vile deeds. When Hitler’s final solution was enacted, they used dragon fire to extinguish the evidence of their fell deeds, burning hundreds of villages, taking the lives of countless innocents. For these crimes there was no forgiveness, our orders were to hunt down the beasts and end them. I didn’t question my orders, not once, for me it was as simple as avenging my comrades. Then all of a sudden, it happened.

The sky opened as a streak of fire rained on the village, the silence broken by the sound of rushing wind and the wails of the dying and panicked people. In the dead of night, it looked like day, like Hell itself, whether it was courage or our training we leapt into action. We spurred our horses onward as it came over again, setting the rest of the village on fire. There was a great rumble that made the earth tremble, then we saw him standing illuminated by his own fire. Crimson scales glowed in the light, his wings like great shadows stretched outward, his maw was like an open furnace and his eyes glowed bright, the size of him left us frozen, awestruck, frightened. 

From his mouth came death, flame so hot it turned buildings of stone to dust, our escape was cut off, our rearguard left incinerated. Our tanks and artillery fired on him, but those that hit barely grazed his armor, his impenetrable scales held even as we hit him with our anti-tank weapons. It didn’t faze him, what happened next shattered our hope. As he was assaulted by artillery, his body glowed red hot then took an orange color as sparks traveled up his spines, his neck, and wingtips, he faced the hillside where our tanks and artillery were and drew a deep breath. With a deafening roar, lightning spewed from his mouth, wingtips, and back, the hillside erupted in explosions, with one sway of his head the heavy guns were silent.

Our commander ordered us to hide as he went to distract the beast, we found a basement and took shelter as the beast continued his furious display. We dared not emerge until morning, we easily found the body of our commander, his body scorched from the chest down. Even when the dragon was gone, I couldn’t stop shaking. One hundred and ten men went to Bavaria and only thirteen came back.” 

Henry was shocked by the story, disbelieving if it could be real but he didn’t have time to think as the door was opened by his father.

“Henry, we've been looking all over for you. What have you got there?” His father asked in relief.

“It’s Granddad’s old journal, he left it to me, there was a note and everything.” Henry said, showing his dad the letter. 

It was then the rest of the mother and Annette came in. All three let out a sigh of relief before embracing Henry and his father. Ms Haleigh and her two companions also entered the room and, noticing the happy family, said her goodbyes before seeing herself out with her two escorts in tow. The family also decided it was time to head home as well, of course they took Barnabus’s war chest, a large trunk, with them before leaving. Once the family was back home they had dinner and discussed moving into the mansion, all agreeing it was a good idea, before turning in for the night. Henry however stayed awake to read more of his Grandfather’s journal, getting to the part where he fought the Elder Dragon a second time made him worry a little. 

Barnabus wrote that in the 1960s, he and the Dragonslayers returned to Bavaria, this time with more advanced artillery, in this case some experimental tanks we called Chieftains, three whole companies of them. Knowing that the same dragon they faced had roosted in the mountains, they were taking no chances this time around. Barnabus even mentioned they had help from a pair of magic users, which Henry questioned as dragons were one thing but people using magic was pushing the reality a little. He continued reading, getting to the part where the dragon appeared and as he breathed his fire, the magic users pushed it back at him. The Chieftain’s gun had been equipped with high penetration sabot rounds that were devastating to the once impenetrable armor of the dragon as every shot sent scales and blood flying. 

Though Henry was astonished by the passage, the following passage of the dragon’s lair left him in awe.

“…Deep in the cavern, among the blackened rocks and clawed trenches in the stone I found a central chamber with only one other occupant. Another dragon curled up in the back, its tail and wings covering most of its body minus it’s neck and front legs, the shorter horns and overall smaller size identified it as a female. Her scales were taken by the rot, once vibrant scales were now dull and brittle, her body was skinny and her limbs frail, her wings had barely enough leather for gliding let alone flight, but even in this state she could’ve still posed a threat. Seeing this female as she was made me feel something I thought I had lost, I felt sorry for her. I put down my rifle and sword before slowly approaching the female, her eyes burning holes in me not in rage but as if looking for something beneath my armor. 

Her voice startled me, so much it made my heart stop, she asked him a single question. “Why do you falter?” 

I replied that I didn't know, which was true. I had no idea why now I chose to take pity on her, just that for the first time in a while, I was unable to end her. She spoke again saying;

“Perhaps you finally know the gravity of your actions. The countless numbers of my kin you killed, and soon I shall join them.” 

“But why does it feel wrong now? Your kin burned countless people, erased villages, and for what?” I answered, my anger resurfacing but she kept her calm voice as she retorted.

“Me and my kin joined the humans of Germany because their leader promised us a return to our glory instead of living in the shadow of the new dawn. When we finally knew the cost of such promises, we were too late to oppose it and in truth many of us were blind to the consequences. We burned millions and for that alone your kind sought our extinction, but I must ask, was it worth it? When we are all gone, erased from your memories, does it absolve you of your own sins?”

Her words rang through me, in my own quest for revenge I had sullied my hands in the blood of countless dragons. I looked her in the eyes and told her how sorry I was. I even told her that, if it would bring her peace in her final moments, she could take my life. Instead she gave me a chance of redemption, she lifted her tail revealing a single egg laying against her body, covered in red scales and even had a faint glow to it. Tentatively I took it in my hands, it was heavy at least ten pounds and a little bigger than a soccer ball.

As I held the egg in my arms she revealed her name as Fyrasol, and with her last breath made me promise to care for her last hatchling. I vowed that day that the cycle of death ended with me and I would sooner end my own life before I broke it…”

Henry was speechless at the ending but decided that perhaps thinking about it would be best suited for the morning. He sat the journal on the nightstand and laid in his bed before drifting off to dreams of dragons.

-Ten years later-

Henry had finished looking over a report of a relocation project for an Adult dragon to one of the Shetland Isles. Seeing the team had successfully released the Dragon, he ordered them back to Headquarters as soon as they were able. As he relaxed he looked at the picture of him and his Grandfather when he was a kid, it made him think of how far he came after his Grandfather’s funeral. After he finished his secondary education, Henry was recruited by the Order, then further followed Barnabus’ footsteps in joining the Keepers, the former Dragonslayers who joined Barnabus’ dream to ensure the survival of the remaining dragons. As Henry sat in memory he suddenly got a call on his desk phone;

“Director Jaeger.” Henry greeted.

“Director, she’s ready for her afternoon flight.” A female voice answered.

“I'll be right down.” Henry said before hanging up.

Henry went to a closet and pressed a code on a keypad, revealing a black fitted flight suit, he got dressed in it before leaving his office and navigating the facility’s halls to a room overlooking a hanger bay. This hanger however wasn’t for aircraft, instead it had been turned into a lair for a rather exceptional female Wyrmling, she was born from the egg Barnabus saved all those years ago. Following her recovery, Barnabus returned to the Order where he and his fellow Dragonslayers vowed they would dedicate themselves to the preservation of Dragons. The newfound Keepers then began their efforts by locating and guarding the last remaining dragons in Europe, even coordinating with their comrades in the east, learning how to care for these creatures. Named after her mother, Fyra hatched in 1970 and was cared for by Barnabus until his passing in 2010, and less than a decade later she was placed under Henry’s care.

When Henry entered the room he noticed she was being tended to by several people attaching a saddle to her back and in front of her was a woman with glasses and a ponytail who waved at Henry as he came to greet them both. 

“Afternoon Director, I was just giving Fyra a weather update.” The woman said adjusting her glasses.

“I've flown in high winds before.” The dragon replied with a huff.

“Yes but our Director will be on your back, so I’m simply reminding you to be careful.” The woman says as Henry shakes his head, knowing all the regulations when he went out on such dangerous activities.

“Dr. Blume, I can assure you I will be just fine. Now I think Fyra has waited long enough, if everything is ready let’s get this ball rolling.” Henry said.

The men secured the saddle and joined Dr. Blume in the observation room as Henry put on his oxygen supply and a helmet to protect him from the high winds. He got onto Fyra’s saddle, secured a line to his harness, and gave the thumbs up for the hanger doors to open. Fyra stamped her feet excitedly, her wings extended slowly as a red light blinked slowly, once the doors were open fully the light turned green giving Fyra the go ahead. She started with a loping run before leaping out the hanger and taking to the sky, her excitement made evident when she let out a roar and a jet of fire into the air.

[ecotone99]

[SF] A Heavenly Father

A HEAVENLY FATHER

By Tai Wise

He was brought into existence on the ship for the sole purpose of propelling humanity further into the stars, with the hope that after dozens of generations in space, during his turn, he would retain and pass onto the next generation some glimmer of true humanity. One day, his mission would end, and some generation after him would inhabit a new planet with the mission to continue the mission, ideally more naturally.

AO30-10001 was the name on his birth file, but at his naming ceremony, the passengers of the Exodus, enamored by the baby’s large green eyes, promptly named him Aoki, after the Japanese word for “green tree.” Although the physical differences of race had long been blended into a similar-looking complexion after many generations on Earth, the architect, as his design mission, had built the ship to instill its passengers with a nostalgia for their ancestral home. The stories of her cultures and select parts of her history were massaged into every facet of ship life and education, and so kindled excited debate when it came time to name the newly birthed children. It was, after all, one of the only possible marks one could leave behind on the ship, before being promptly “executed” at the ripe age of thirty-three.

Earth’s most famous names were passed on to the children, more seriously at the beginning, hundreds of years earlier, and more liberally as the passengers digested the endless archive of world history and pop culture. Those who brought their religious beliefs aboard started with names like Mary and Mohammed. The students of history introduced new passengers like Magellan and Genghis, and some irreverent generation gave new lives to Elvis, Tupac, and even some names from the cultural revolution on Mars.

The ship and its passengers, while beyond nationalism at this point in their journey, had a distinctly American origin. Assembled in “The Original Solar System,” the Exodus had been hurled into the same trajectory as an interstellar comet, with a calculated destination and the natural resources required to fuel and supply the long trip. From all of Kepler’s trillions of possibilities, there was one almost too good to be true: A supersized version of Earth, a large blue dot that — if reached — could be humanity’s salvation. The plan was hatched at the highest levels of government, at a point in time when the bounds of science and technology had stretched far beyond the Milky Way. Simply put, every generation on the Exodus would be born to die there, except for the very last one, which would inhabit the New Earth.

Aoki began his journey like every other passenger: Carefully conceived from all of the essentials required for life, he was incubated in an artificial womb, purposefully delivered, and then assigned to an arranged couple who would act as his surrogate mother and father for thirteen years.

The nursery on the ship was a spectacle for the adult passengers. Toddlers took immediately to the bright visuals displayed around them; in a way, it was the only time they would interact with a truly spatial play environment before being introduced to their daily — mandatory — immersive virtual reality. Their drooling on lightspheres and crawling over treadmanipulators provided great amusement, and the assigned mothers of the ship were encouraged to interact in play (during the designated hours).

Among the population hovering at around five hundred, a select few were designated to live an additional twenty years to the age of fifty-three. Several of these “Elders” would be assigned to observe the children from their infancy, through grade school, and into the VR sessions. They were even watched without their knowledge, interacting with peers, parents, and the Elders themselves. Careful documentation was made, helped along by the watchful eye of the ship’s all-knowing artificial intelligence system.

Aoki was too kind.

He showed signs of his brilliance from a young age, reciting alphabets, mastering languages, and achieving high marks in mathematics and coding in his adolescence. He was revered by most of his peers and envied by jealous others. Even in those cases, his social awareness always allowed him to win them over. He pushed the envelope just far enough to allow his friends a good time, but never enough to get in serious trouble. He was by all means a respected Elder in the making, but he lacked the coldness that would allow him to terminate his fellow passengers at the predetermined time and place.

On one class trip in VR — a simulated crossing of the Delaware River as part of his presentation on the American Revolution — the ice began to melt and splash into rapids. Before his classmates knew it, the boat had bobbed up into the white waters of a Colorado river, then tipped down, hurling the whole group over Niagara Falls. When they reached the basin, the class was surrounded by the calm Hawaiian tropics. A whirlpool formed, sucked the class down, and spit them out again into a spring-fed river in Florida. When reprimanded by the instructor, Aoki protested that his report was meant to display the eventual expanse of the United States territory. The instructor, first embarrassed and then angry, remained mostly impressed after a night’s sleep and gave his pupil high marks for creativity.

Aoki had always questioned his surroundings, the authority figures, and even the Elders — though he kept that mostly to himself, plotting smart, unnoticeable ways to manipulate the rigid system into going his way. Around the time of his parents’ scheduled execution, he began his attempts to set a course that would see him assigned as a partner to Queen, who, also twelve, was his intellectual superior and the most beautiful girl in his pod. He did get his way, and took a special pride in thinking that he had tricked the AI into detecting mutual attraction by researching all of the signs. Apparently, she had done the same.

At the predetermined age, Aoki and Queen were united and moved into shared living. Their years were slow and full of quiet discovery. Subtle fights, inside jokes, and intimate knowledge grew their attraction into an unbreakable bond. Their unparalleled coexistence made it hard for them to keep surprises from each other; before long, their known partnership became a punch line on the ship and an excuse for its passengers to recall tidbits of long-forgotten pop culture references. In the halls, Aoki and Queen were Sonny and Cher, Bonnie and Clyde, Jay-Z and Beyoncé, the homecoming king and queen. They especially liked Adam and Eve, imagining themselves as the possible seed of humanity on the new planet that awaited them. The couple used this reference with each other quietly, as it was strictly forbidden even to joke about being the Last Generation of theExodus.

Queen, in her free time, mastered the VR simulator and had even worked her way around the AI on occasion. She had secretly been attempting to nail down the trajectory of the Exodus when, just before the couple were to be assigned a child at the age of twenty, Queen was selected for an early execution.

The passengers were assured that early selection was purely systematic; a way to maintain the balance of resources on theExodus. According to the Elders, the selections were always random: “and an honor, in order to preserve your youthfulness for the New Earth!” Assured over and over, it was all but guaranteed that after execution, each and every person would be brought back to “life” in the exact state they left it, as soon as the ship reached its destination. Every family unit, every friend, and even old rivals — all would be reunited, along with entire generations of Exodus passengers, including the architect himself.

Aoki was not so sure, and having carefully planned the next thirty-three years of their lives, sure they would be selected as Elders, was devastated. He had, over the past month, sensed something worrying Queen, but she’d quickly changed the subject when he tried to question her about it. Aoki offered to be selected instead, even though that was expressly prohibited and deemed impossible due to the AI’s always final decision. He made such a loud resistance about it that he had to be forcefully sedated until the execution had been carried out, and then Aoki was slowly acclimated and medicated back into ship society.

He would slip into VR for long periods of time, comforting himself with the places he and Queen had gone together. But it wasn’t until he revisited his Delaware River extravaganza that he discovered her first clue: the beginning of a message. When Aoki pulled the experience from the archive, he expected it to end just where he had left it — in the Florida spring-fed river — but the boat kept floating. It took him, in rapid succession, out to sea, into the Gulf of Mexico, down through the Caribbean, and into the small bay of Havana.

Along the way, Aoki stared into the endless blue depths of ocean, looking for a possible reflection she may have left behind, but there was nothing. Curious about a particular island nation, Aoki studied the small guard tower flanking the entrance to a bustling harbor as Cuba celebrated its independence from Spain, then again from the grips of the United States, and then again from a revolution. Through several celebrations in the harbor, it never again fell under the American flag.

Aoki pondered Queen’s message, considering territorial expanse and an endless amount of possible political and historic subtleties. He decided to restart the simulation, and found that each time he left Florida and floated out into the Gulf, the boat carried him to a new destination. Each one was a territory once occupied by the United States, eventually relinquished, ending with the state of California after its land-mass separation. The simulation ran through thirty-four different territories before restarting.

“Thirty-four” was her message, but after the grueling hours it took to get there, he didn’t understand it, or why she had made it so painstakingly difficult to send him a simple number. He wouldn’t understand until five long years later, when, after being denied the chance at another partner and never assigned a child, all but assured he was being groomed to be an Elder, his number did not come up in the selection. He, like most of his peers, would be executed at age thirty-three.

The peremptory finality of his current life weighed heavily on Aoki, and although he was promised to be reunited with Queen, his assigned parents, and the few others whom he had cared about during his tenure on the ship, he didn’t believe it. He also doubted that even if the mission were successful, and even if he were able to return from execution, he would feel the same.

Aoki considered his options.

Years earlier, as teenagers, some members of Aoki’s pod had gotten their hands on what was sold off as execution fluid. The stuff, when taken in small doses, made the mind hallucinate. A couple of drops before going into VR would exact a psychedelic trip so powerful that most of Aoki’s peers said they never again thought or felt exactly the same after trying it; for that reason, Aoki decided once and for all that he was against it. He liked the way he thought already.

If his execution were to leave him anything like some of his deadheaded peers who stared blankly at him in the food hall, and before group therapy, and at screenings, and exercise, then he knew a few lifetimes under the influence of that fluidwould leave him totally changed. Or maybe that stuff wasn’t exactly what they used for executions? Was the juice another hidden test from the Elders? A way to lure them into the myth of placid cryo-sleep?

Either way, Aoki began to dwell more on his thirty-three years, and Queen’s message of thirty-four — and, solely through excited eyes and whispered conversations among the Elders, he began to suspect something that stirred him to the core. Something so unbelievable and unimaginable that he had never even really considered it a possibility.

They were close.

All of the signs were there. An increased attention to the ship’s regimented health shots, meals, and trainings was being covered up by the “once in a century” excuse. It was a reevaluation and a “deep clean.” About a month from his thirty-third birthday, the birthing center closed for this same reason, and new foodstuffs began to appear on the menus. Things he had to chew more, which was displeasing to Aoki considering how much he enjoyed the marshmallow swallow and the bright red juices he’d had with every meal. Even the execution fluid was hard to come by, according to the old stoners who couldn’t function without it anymore. The Elders were preparing for something, and it wasn’t hard to notice.

One of Aoki’s few true friends, Celestine, a short, portly young man who had to stop getting Aoki extra snacks after he was moved into Elder training, became increasingly agitated when they met for their weekly VR session. With his new title and responsibilities, he was allowed to grow a beard, even though it didn’t quite suit him, as it was very patchy over his baby face. It had, however, given him an air of greater importance. Aoki liked to poke fun at him, and one day, in one of their VR motorcycle rides, Celestine rammed Aoki off of their desert path, pulled his mask off, and began to weep.

The two friends sat facing each other as the manipulating environment flattened out, the motorcycle impressions dissolving back into soft floor. Aoki pressed, but Celestine could only stare. He was supposed to limit his interactions with those who already had their executions scheduled, but in their last few meetings, it had become clear that something was amiss.

“All I can say, is that…” Celestine lowered his voice into a whisper, and then let it slip. “The AI has been turned off — like, entirely off. They can’t have it interfere with a potentially manual landing scenario.”

All of Aoki’s suspicions were confirmed in that moment, and in the next few minutes of rushed conversation, no longer in earshot of the all-knowing AI, Celestine painted the complete picture. They were about a year out. They had picked up radio frequencies on the planet and surmised that one or more missions had reached that surface before the Exodus had even gotten close, probably the result of some unknown technological advancement back in the Original Solar System. The communications system had been shut off to avoid alerting a potentially hostile population. The planned executions would continue on schedule, and perhaps even increase closer to the landing date in order to sustain a more manageable starter population on New Earth. The Elders were in disarray and fully unprepared for events unfolding ahead of schedule. Each and every soul on the ship had been born there. They had not expected to meet another population on the planet, and they were also unprepared for what life may have already existed before the people of Earth and Mars and the Kepler Solar Station began hurling missions into the heavens with the aspirational yet formidable mission of saving the human race.

Celestine was scared, and Aoki was exhilarated. He had no strong allegiance to anyone, no protocol he cared to follow, and now he had found the possibility of an unbounded future. Celestine trembled with fear when Aoki asked him to help stay his execution, and so when Aoki dropped the subject, he knew his mission would have to be kept secret. He also knew he was no longer being watched by the all-knowing eye.

Aoki began by sampling the feeding tube fluid from the birthing center. Although the center was closed, he had gained access after dropping some execution fluid into Celestine’s meal, and before long, his old friend had spilled his access codes. The fluid wasn’t made with taste in mind, but there was plenty of it and it was packed with nutrition. The birthing facility had everything he needed to sustain his life for the duration of the journey.

At his execution party, joined by some others who were scheduled for the next morning, Aoki smiled and laughed, and though none of the others seemed to notice, a terror slowly crept over him. His main fear was not what repercussions might befall him if they did happen to break him out, but the boredom. Celestine hadn’t given him a precise landing date, but from all estimations, and from Queen’s elusive hint, he figured it would be at least a year in solitude, until after his thirty-fourth birthday. There wasn’t much available by way of entertainment. VR was the only escape, and once he locked himself in, he would be sealed behind impenetrable doors, far away from his daily adventures. The birthing center contained almost no physical reading material, no portable screens with any value.

With the party winding down, and the Song of Sleep being sung aloud, Aoki requested that the group of one hundred or so adults watch the screen for a video presentation, something he had prepared for them to mark the temporary end of a thirty-three-year journey aboard the Exodus. A story that, he said, would end with a cliffhanger, only to be revealed once every soul was together again on New Earth. Still revered as a boyhood genius, and with some pity from those deciders who had robbed him of his deserved appointment as an Elder, they obliged. As the lights went down and the roomful of eyes fixed on the screen, Aoki made his exit.

A teary-eyed Celestine saw him slip through the back of the community pod, but was too frozen in fear to react. Aoki bounded through the halls, along the curvature of the ship, right to its most protected core, and sealed himself in. He overrode the lock system from the inside, and as his fellow passengers began assembling, and banging, and pleading, Aoki fell into complete silence. He wouldn’t speak a word for fourteen months, quietly feeding on the nutritious fluids and following a strict regimen of exercise and meditation so deep that he saw the entire universe before him, beyond the thick, centuries-old walls of the vessel, beyond their present location in time and space, all the way back to the origins of the massless void every soul found themselves floating in.

Long assumed dead, and somewhat mythologized even though he had only been out of the ship’s population for a little over a year, the “man in the birthing center” faded from memory as the news was broken to the remaining citizens, not even one month after Aoki’s scheduled execution, that the Exodus had in fact nearly reached its destination. The daily drills would increase, along with changes in diet, and control groups for various vaccinations, and medicines, and UV therapy, and “mental exercises.” The plan was that the group would enter the land of “New Earth” in waves, in control groups, to maximize the possibility of prolonged survival.

When Aoki felt the screams and destruction and death as they pierced the atmosphere — very much a crash landing, though quite different from his VR crashes on boats, motorcycles, and cars, which had no physical repercussions — he sensed the total chaos that would ensue. Out of his meditative state, he emerged godlike to the scattered people surrounding the ship after its near-disastrous entry. He walked through the horde of leaderless, fearful, breathing-masked passengers as a serene being, unscathed and quite physically attractive, naked and chiseled from a year of pure nutrition, exercise, and sleep. He didn’t speak a word, and the crowds, who had all evacuated at once, contrary to their plans and training, stopped for a moment amid the chaos to stare in awe as he passed through the throng, gazing over them with his deep, green eyes, now illuminated in the life-giving fresh air.

Laid out before Aoki, just on the edge of the crater where the ship had landed, was the most surreal landscape, unlike anything portrayed in the virtual memories of Earth. So tangible, and warm, and wet, the New Earth spread out before him, an unadulterated, virgin planet.

And so he walked to the nearest body of water, a crystal clear river gently passing through short, green grass, and let his body fall into it. The recent aliens to New Earth, snapping out of their shock, began fumbling after him, crying out to him, but it was too late. He vanished into the stream, floating away from them just as quickly as he came.

Aoki felt no allegiance to the people who had politely scheduled his death. The one thing he did learn from his time in the birthing room was that all of the executed passengers were saved, and transformed, and fed back into the Exodus, bits of them finding their way into the feeding tubes for the next generation. He found solace in knowing that for more than a year, the nutriments he received were in fact comprising parts of his loved ones, maybe even some of Queen.

Aoki carried them inside of him as he floated down the lukewarm river, feet brushing over exotic underwater plants, kicking up colorful bits of sand. All of it was new. The wildlife he saw would all need to be named. There had been nothing like it in the VR simulations, even in renderings of prehistoric Earth. Flying with fur, and swimming with feathers — every new creature seemed to defy the anatomical features he had learned about in all known forms of life. So far, none of it felt threatening, but for the sake of exploring the land a bit, and because he began to tire from floating, he allowed the river to nestle him against a black beach, climbed ashore, and fell asleep. The new sun began to fade over the horizon, and even more magnificent than anything on Earth, apocalyptic oranges, blues, and yellows painted the horizon in a soft swath of radiance.

When he awoke, the stars were colored red and blue, and because of some unexplainable atmospheric quality, seemed to shrink and enlarge at random, creating disco-like reflections on the jungle floor. He walked through the haze with colorful creatures’ eyes observing his fearless stride past thick, black trees and dark yellow vines.

After what seemed like hours, and after filling himself on some of the lowest hanging fruits along the way, he entered a clearing that gave way to rolling hills and eventually a boundless, dark ocean.

Again, Aoki slept.

When he awoke, lips wind-whipped, sand in his nostrils and toes, the sun had already risen above the horizon. Before him, a vessel he was sure he couldn’t have missed had it been there in the night was conveniently anchored off shore. It looked more familiar to him than anything else he had encountered so far on the planet, like the boats of the Delaware and of the icy Mars River he had watched in VR. Boats, he figured, must have been engineered for the universe, crafted to navigate any body of water laid out before them, dreamed up just as had the ancient explorers of Earth and their stardust ancestors before them.

A quick swim, then a yank at the anchor and a pull at the ropes released the sail and gave the boat life. It seemed to travel a predetermined route. Along with the pile of fruits he’d collected on the beach, Aoki and the wind set out for some unknown destination with a sense of fearlessness and purpose. A gentle breeze propelled the craft across the calm sea through light and darkness, and after three days, still full from the last fruit, Aoki arrived.

The island inhabitants, only three hundred years into the existence of their civilization on the new world, had all, from the very first soul, been born there. From sperm and egg in cryo-sleep, they were hatched and cared for by a hands-on AI, babies laughing and crying and eating and sleeping, all alone, on a planet unprepared for them. By the time the first group had reached adulthood, educated with solar-powered screens, virtual parents, and food carefully robot-tested before being rendered into meals, they were in fact the first premeditated creation the universe had ever known. Hurled as frozen cells through the vastness of space, and fast-tracked using all of the knowledge of evolutionary science, they first learned from computer-stored information and simulated comfort. They became self-aware as they walked further from their shelters, socialized on their own, quickly figured out their natural reproductive abilities, and eventually got rid of the machine-learning process altogether, the last several generations only using it for entertainment purposes. In a way, they were like the stardust that over millions of years had crawled from the oceans of Earth and lifted the pyramids from the sand. There was a chance they would be cursed by the same violent tendencies of their ancestors and eventually seek out another new world as they destroyed this one, but there was also a chance that in this new air, and on the New Earth, they would peacefully sustain themselves.

Aoki was accepted as their king.

He had, after all, been born with the advantage of several hundred years of additional culture and life that had developed in space. He was an alien who, although unfamiliar with their ways of life, brought a deep understanding of the Original Galaxy and could quite simply explain how they all ended up together on the island. With a quick inspection, he could also answer all of their questions about the origins of their world, and while hesitant to put a stop to some of their ritualistic and religious behaviors, he let in bits of fact to allow them to fully understand their place in existence. He alone could answer questions like “Why are we here?” and “What is our purpose?” They were simple answers really, but just having any was enough.

Aoki was impressed with them, not only at their astounding success at survival but for their developed culture. For the first time in his life, he saw families that spanned three and four generations, inextricably bound to each other — unlike the assigned parents and watchful Elders he was used to. For all of his admiration and respect for their tribal hierarchy (partly derived from some manual their original creators had sent), at several thousand people to one, Aoki had the benefit of being the most unique. To them, he was a gift from the ocean and from the sky. He came on the prophesied vessel. He was the missing link from another world, the answered question, their link to the stars, and so Aoki assumed his natural position as their leader, a heavenly father.

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