#like I think she knows her stuff and is exceptionally detailed and is usually great at thematics

[wonder-worker]

apparently Laynesmith has argued that Joan of Kent and Thomas Holland may not have actually had a pre-contract in “Joan of Kent’s Tale: Adultery and Rape in the Age of Chivalry”, Medieval Life 5 (1996): 7-9.

has anyone read it & what do they think of it?

[gemalawasliveblogs]

[S] Jack: Ascend.

Finally we're here! And I'm back, after an unplanned absence that had a lot to do with not having much time to watch a Flash without being interrupted. What a fucking Flash, amiright? It marks the point where Jack became more 'threat' than 'obstacle' or 'amusement', all because of a silly hat. Also, some commentary! Below the cut because it's loooong.

I think this one marks the start of Homestuck's trend thereafter of dropping exceptionally violent, high-octane, game-changing animations out of nowhere. There are so many like this from here on, right up to the end of Act 5. Only then does the number sort of taper off. But from this point on I just sorta started shoveling more and more red meat into the story's maw. This stretch is where I was starting to get a feel for this type of sensationalistic storytelling content as something I'd later code (mostly for my own internal purposes) as "meat," in the meat/candy binary of storycraft theory. 

Oh no. Not already. I'm not getting into the issue here. But yeah, there were a LOT of Flashes that were crazy sensational at this point.

Jack is so pissed at his queen. These two getting testy with each other is built into their relationship across all sessions. No matter what the specific situation, she's probably always finding ways to needle him. Dress code, paperwork, it doesn't matter. This is programmed into them as game constructs to guarantee that there will always be friction between them, which allows for more interesting variations in how any given game of Sburb can play out. There's always a powder keg of mutiny waiting to go off, and depending on the actions of the heroes, there are many, many ways this can play out over a session. We see one way right here, in this animation, and another in the troll session, with totally different results. But what remains constant is Jack's inclination to betray his queen.

This is also interesting - Jack is a game mechanic to make the session more interesting, which he certainly does in all versions of him we see.

Even though it lasts only about a second or two, this dress-up montage is kind of incredible when you think about what it implies. They're actually spending...hours, maybe?...trying out different clothes that Jack might like better. Think of what this means, and of all the actual conversations that have to take place between them to facilitate this. It shows the queen is actually willing to exercise some lenience and let Jack's taste determine the garb so long as it's sufficiently clown-princess themed. Jack also displays a surprising degree of patience in trying on so many variations. It also suggests that somewhere the queen has an entire wardrobe of this stuff ready to go.

As funny as all this is, my favorite details are the spades behind her (great foreshadowing at work once more) and the laughter in the song timed to her being shown. She's having entirely too much fun with all this and we all know it.

This brief interlude in the animation shows that Rose's dream self has finally woken up, due to her future doomed self going to sleep and "ceasing to exist." She has inherited some hazy memories from that version of her self, or if not all her memories per se, at least some of her perceptual faculty. Now she can see the graffiti she wrote on her walls, which previously was invisible to her due to some psychological block. This is the secret Jaspers once whispered to her, which was simply, "Meow." This word didn't really tell Rose's younger self anything informative so much as it unlocked information already in her brain, which was an important genetic sequence. She uses the letters of MEOW in place of the usual letters for genetic codes, GCAT.

This is definitely one of the wilder timeloop bullshit orchestrations, of which there are a good few. The engineering of Bec was a fantastic mystery to slowly figure out as the story went on. Also, we get to see the Guardians being cool, which is certainly neat.

Jack's mutiny, along with his ridiculous transformation, is complete. What a devil's bargain he just struck. In order to claim supreme power, he must agree to have the absurd attire he so vehemently resisted actually become physically inseparable from himself. Yet the choice he has made is clear. Power prevails over dignity. That said, being forced to look like a clown in exchange for this boon isn't exactly going to keep him in a good mood.

Also, this is funny. To rise up against the tyranny of being made to wear silly clothes...he has to wear the silly clothes and make them part of himself.

[levoneh]

casey sara’s year in romance awards

the most fun interesting or talk about-able romances i read this year, based totally on what i happened to read and my interests (this got exceptionally long, i know)

The Most Niche One For Specifically People Who Follow Me Award

Craving Flight by Tamsen Parker - Baalat Teshuva explores her newfound religiosity and desire for a BDSM relationship in her shidduch marriage to a kosher butcher

i mean, i feel like if that doesn’t sell you on at least looking at this book, if you’re one of my followers, its simply not for you. the strength of this book is really its ability to capture the experience of being somewhat of an outsider in the Orthodox world, which i think it does really beautifully. it reminded me a bit of parts of another book i read this year (Milk Fed by Melissa Schroeder, which I’d really love to talk about if you’ve read it) in the accuracy and sharpness with which it captures that experience, of belonging and not belonging. the romance was alright (i mean, being a kosher butcher is a bit of a sexy job) and the smut was not my exact deal, but overall, a really great quick read.

The If Bruce Springsteen Was Porn Award

The Made In Jersey series by Tessa Bailey - working class couples living in a factory town fall in love, have nasty, sexy sex and go to each other’s barbeques and stuff 

bailey is really known for dominant male main characters and dirty talk, and this is quite sexy! it mostly tickled me because it really is just born in the usa but rough sex also. she also has a series that takes place on long island, where i grew up, but it didn’t quite work for me, because long island is perhaps one of the least sexy places in the world. i only read two of the books in this series, but bailey is a very reliable writer. 

The Best Gay One Award

Honey Trap by Aster Glenn Gray - a Soviet KGB spy and an FBI agent in the 1950s are assigned to work together on a case that brings them on a road trip across the US. One is supposed to honey trap the other. ~what’s gonna happen??~

my problem with most gay romances that really hit the mainstream hard is that they are usually all fluff and no substance/real strife/themes whatever cocktail of Real Stuff makes a book really good to me, instead of just readable. this is slow-burny, plays with the tropes and what you might expect to happen, doesn’t give easy answers, and balances sweetness with real solid stuff. really good, and i’m shocked its not talked about more. 

The I Just Want The Heroine To Succeed and Be Happy Award

The Bride Test by Helen Hoang - a single mother from vietnam is invited by the mmc’s mom to persuade him to marry her, with lots of forced proximity

i mean everyrone and there mom knows helen hoang is a great writer, but i really loved this book, i loved the scrappy, brave, gentle heroine and i was rooting for her so hard, and the note at the end that hoang wrote about how esme (the fmc) is inspired by her own mother made me cry. 

The Most Up My Personal Fun-Times Alley and Totally Indulgent Award

anything and everything by Alice Coldbreath - historical arranged marriage romances, some in the fantasy middle ages (so she won’t get in trouble for historical inaccuracy, basically) and some in the victorian era

i mean i just love it. coldbreath is excellent at writing heroines that feel really different from each other, so even though the tropes she uses are almost exactly the same in each book (arranged marriage/marriage of convenience, usually grumpy/sunshine, the MMC is shocked to find himself extremely horny about the concept of fucking a woman who is own wife), i feel like you get a really different (or different enough) experience in each book, because you fall in love with the heroine. also really my shit is the focus on historical detail (even when it’s fake) in terms of the focus on daily life and hobbies of the characters, how they make a living, etc. i love that shit. 

The Classic Clinch Covers Without Horrible Racism and Abuse That Makes Me Want to Die Award

Destiny’s Embrace by Beverly Jenkins and also everything by Beverly Jenkins

for when you want that classic sort of sweeping family historical romance, with the classic lush n’ sexy clinch covers, but you don’t want to read 400 pages of sexual violence and racism, Jenkins is like the queen of that. few to no white people, a lot of historical research and detail and sexy cowboys/ranch-owners in the 1800s. her most famous is indigo, which i haven’t read yet, but i really like family romance series and this one was very good. 

The Best Bang For Your Buck Award

The Rockliffe Series by Stella Riley - Restroration-era romances in an increasingly tangled group of friends and family relations, covers pretty much every kind of trope or couple

with both collections available on the apple bookstore, i got like 8 or 9 books for around 15 dollars total. all the couples seem to really like each other’s company and have lots of friends and family they really care about (which is weirdly lacking in romances.) i just really liked all of the main characters and was happy to see them happy. so pleasant and i tore through them like a whitman’s sampler of romance. delicious. 

The You Have To Trust Me, I Know You Hear The Phrase “Romance Books About Trauma” And Maybe Think It’s In Bad Taste But It’s Actually Beautifully Done And Sensitive And Life-Affirming Award

a tie!

Under Her Skin by Adriana Anders - a woman fleeing an abusive relationship sets herself up in a town where there’s a clinic that removes tattoos for free, meets a quiet, somewhat curmudgeonly blacksmith with a past. etc. etc.

and

The Ones Who Got Away series by Roni Loren - a series following the survivors of a school shooting as well as other people connected with it, ten years after it happened, and some of them fall in love

i mean - look, i feel you not being sold on these, especially the second one. the first one i feel like is an easier sell, and it’s got some of the best sex scenes that i’ve ever read, they’re beautiful and deal with recovery and trust, and so so so sexy. i wept reading this one (i just love when the heroine has been so brave and worked so hard, and finally someone just takes care of her) 

the second one was really great also, in terms of dealing with ptsd and how love can be so affirming and beautiful, and also had a lot of really wonderful friendships. it’s so much in these books, so i feel unsure how to even talk about them in a way that’s not long and rambling. if you’re willing to try, they are so worth it. i do have a few problems with how the books deal with the political concerns around gun violence (aka they mostly don’t, boo) but overall really special and wonderful.

The Gasping Award

Whiteout by Adriana Anders - the main characters have to flee an corporate terrorist syndicate from their science base in Antarctica, and keep themselves alive

oh my gosh so much gasping and sympathetic moaning. the author begins making a note of how far they have to travel and how much food they have left, and it just sounds so awful and scary and exciting that my heart was actually racing, even though i know it’s a romance and they have to end the book alive and together. so good. oh my gosh, just the best book if you don’t want to put it down. great heroine. 

Other Really Great Ones (I Ran Out of Cute Titles But I Loved These)

Beautiful Wreck by Larissa Brown - woman from dystopian future who is a Viking history enthusiast is transported back to a Viking era homestead

to be honest, this is really way more about this woman falling in love with living a Viking lifestyle (Brown manages really well to not make it a white supremacist thing, which is what occurs to me writing this), i feel like the romance is pretty secondary. i just love reading about her learning how to spin and the politics of dealing with the other women in the clan, and all that stuff. also what a kooky premise! special because of the writing, and because of the amount of daily life stuff that i love. 

The Flatshare by Beth O’Leary- a man and a woman agree on a flatsharing arrangement which essentially boils down to the fact they never see each other in the apartment at the same time. most of the book they’re communicating through post-its 

just really cute, lovely. the one i would actually recommend to a regular person who wants to read a good romance, also this one had a surprising plotline (to me) about dealing with the effects of having been in a manipulative relationship. this is i feel like a good book to wean you off of YA romance, if you know what i mean. 

[project-paranoia]

Live Watch: Guardian  Episode One, Part One

It's Guardian!  The show that got me interested in this genre!  I love spooky things and I love mysteries and fantasy!  I simply adore it so much!  When I can't sleep I just put on a playlist of Guardian in the background.  I was aware of censorship before - every country has some version of it, but to some degree this was my first deep dive into how it might effect a piece of media.  Guardian is exceptionally acted and incredibly written, as well as suffering from obvious dubs where the dubbing voice actor sounds nothing like the previous actor and odd cuts that are disrupted.  In some ways it's the little drama that could fighting its way past their studio going bankrupt while they were filming, reshoots, and being taken down and altered several times.

In some ways Guardian's struggle fits the spirit and aesthetic of the show. Worn in like an old pair of jeans but still making an effort.  Putting emphasis where things count and hoping the kindness of the universe will make allowances for the rest.  Attention to detail where the story really matters.  It has the charm of a community production put on out of love with actors and crew who would not be anywhere else in the world for any amount of money.  That feeling of love comes through, and whether or not I'm barely literate I have so many words to share.

Part of why I love it as well is it has that feeling of 80s and 90s fantasy, like Moomin, Xena or Condor Heroes. Everything feels lived in, nothing's been spit shined except for Shen Wei's suits. It's an old city street of a show, it has history and character built in. 

*After all that I don't know that I have a tonne to say about the intro.  It's very good but it's also full of spoilers.  I think having the intro song be in English does make a difference in making it appealing to English speaking audiences as well as standing out as different and interesting, which the show is. Speaking of Spoilers!  Spoilers below!

* The obligatory beginning narration is beautifully animated, I have another post that will be done some time before the heat-death of the universe talking about the fascinating world building options.  Unlike some Make It SciFi plots, this one has legs and implications.

* Remakes rarely are able to meet the original on equal ground - and I struggle to believe the actors would Fit as well - but part of me really wants to have a chance to have the Dixingren worldbuilding really leaned into.  The writing is good enough we get implication but no real follow through.  I want fifty episodes of how Dixing functions, give me more pseudo-science behind the mutations, what are the biological differences.  I'm hungry for more!

* I love the cameos of later characters, and the way there was some effort to be discrete with spoilers.

* It's Ya Boy!  I love Shen Wei.  With that music cue and that sinister turn around they really set him up as dubious.  I wish they went with something a little different with the intro so his character wasn't spoiled.  The writing, directing, and acting was so good and spoiling who Shen Wei is kind of took the teeth out of that.

* Also cheers to the costume designer who outfitted Zhu Yilong so well and made him look jacked with the fit of those clothes.

* Also you can tell this is a real university because the staff has to sit in tiny student chairs.  I'm not joking, please be warned if you're going into academia.  Unless you have tenure life is An Adventure - and even then.

* Also shout out to Shen Wei's Prized Cabbage and the Queen of our hearts, Li Qian.  Why is this actress not in more things?  She has such an expressive and lovely face and she really goes all the way in with her acting.  I respect an artist that acts from their chest. Also that windbreaker, white skirt combo is chic and fun all at once, it draws the eye and makes her melt into the background all at once - perfect for the character.  I love her so much.

* Here's another one of Shen Wei's coats, it's a lovely color for him but it also is so thin that it looks like it crinkled up just from being worn.

* I'm being distracted by details and missing plot stuff.

* Story of my life.

* I love Li Qian hovering along behind Shen Wei like a duckling following their mother.  A) Mood and B) it quietly informs their dynamic.  Shen Wei has like one person he can trust but no one he can really confide in and it's the same for Li Qian. A ship will find a port in a storm and Shen Wei has Big Da-ge Energy. My fanfic heart hopes they found comfort in the pseudo familial relationship with each other while it lasted.

* Even in episode one we receive foreshadowing, we love and respect some excellent writing.  For those of you who missed it - Professor Ouyang is talking about Lin Jing who I love partially because he's so outrageous large but has the total opposite of intimidating energy.  

* What did they feed you Lin Jing? He is so tall and wide, but they do a lot with camera work to try to make him not quite as big.  Side note, I would really love to see the actor who plays Lin Jing (Liu Minting) both in more dramas but more specifically in a role where he was like a minister or scholar - someone intellectual.  I think the combination of being such a big gentleman and also someone who like plots or plans would be really dynamic if it was written well.  

* Also I like the exchange where without a word Professor Ouyang indicates he has one last thing to say, it's private and that he would like Shen Wei to ask Li Qian to leave. That's What You Can Do With Good Actors!

* Li Qian is just so pretty and the actress emotes so well!

* Shen Wei totally understanding what's going on with this shady research immediately and wanting to stay as far away as possible.  We see one of the first examples of him being aggressively polite to remove himself from a situation.

* "i'M jUST aN oRDINARY sCHOLAR." No one buys it Shen Wei.

* Angy Thinking Face

* One thing the show is really good at is using establishing shots really well so you always know where everything is and everything is going

* Guo Changcheng, all around good boy and angel.  We stan a nervous legend

* Zhou Yunlan Arriving.  Why is everyone on this show an Absolute Legend

* Guo Changcheng protecting himself with his certificate is too cute.  This young man is trying his best and I support him.

* Also that coat is Young, Pure, Stylish; I love it

* Zhao Yunlan, what's wrong with you? You are amazing!

* His irreverent style and disregard of usual policy makes him fit in really well with his band of misfits and special cases

* Guo Changcheng's OO face is too good, elastic face

* Da Qing my love!

* Jin Ling, I think he has an all seeing eye on his hoodie thing. Illuminati Confirmed.

* Also they filmed the shots so well, so you always know where everyone is in relation to everyone else

* Our Prized Cabbage!  I love her!

* Great handheld work: shaky and unhinged, but not migraine inducing

* Foreshadowing in the form of a shadow and reaching for the necklace

* Da Qing's cat behaviours. I really want behind the scenes of the actor discussing how cat was he going to cat

* We get our first real example of how Zhao Yunlan doesn't feel safe emoting negatively and so he uses a super sunny mask to hide his feelings, except with Da Qing who he lets his anger show with because he trusts him.

* I'm not even halfway through and I've written so much, peace and blessings to the readers of this.

* Zhao Yunlan's swagger, after his childhood having a little power must feel comforting and good

* I love how Da Qing is talking as a cat less than a meter from the medical examiner.  Does the examiner not care or does he know?  Is he deaf?

* Harassing Guo Changcheng is the new team sport

* Zhao Yunlan Realises Something Music

* Also, Lollipop Measurement

* It's nice to see Zhao Yunlan just being himself with Da Qing, he's able to really be honest and genuine with him

* Slow Look Moment

* This moment is so fascinating!  Shen Wei doesn't know what's going on yet.  He just sees an old friend who winces when he sees him and disappears.  We mostly see things from Zhao Yunlan's point of view, but from Shen Wei's perspective this is a first part of just some Odd and Confusing Happenings

* This cat though!  I love him!

* The delicate way they’re both feeling each other out.  This must be so confusing and startling for Shen Wei and Zhao Yunlan is trying to figure out if this teacher is going to bust him or what.

* He forgot to let go, way to set off Zhao Yunlan’s suspicions

* “Mark Stewart” Is he though?  Who picked out that English name?

* Li Qian!  I love her and I love that striped blouse. Fashion.  Got to look good when you’re resisting a mental break. *Also she hears a meow and looks around at eye level, I love that for her.

* Zhao Yunlan!  You can’t take pictures of young ladies without their permission.  What is wrong with you!

* I love Da Qing’s very cat attitude of I Will Have Vengeance for These Wrongs

* Two for one! Shen Wei meets two faces from his past.

* Also, I get a little frustrated about people making a big deal about the 10,000 years versus 1,000 years age thing with Da Qing.  a) He has amnesia and b) the thousand years refers to the amount of time needed to cultivate to a certain stage in Chinese mythology - usually by absorbing energy from the sun, moon, or depending on the animal other sources.

* I feel so bad for Shen Wei, who knows what he thinks.  Were his friends brainwashed?  Did they forget?  Can they not say for some reason?  What is happening?

This review is getting a little long, so join in tomorrow for Part Two~~!

[btschooseafic]

Hey you, what’s your dream?

Pairing: platonic!oc x ot7

Details: manager!oc, predebut/idolverse, partial BTS World!verse

Summary: Jungkook feels the pressure of being the main vocal in their debut song.

Warnings: This is a fictional story based on real events. The characters presented here are not the same as their real life counterparts. (TW: non-explicit talk of anxiety/ mental health treatment) [Masterlist]

Track 12: Golden Maknae

Talk To Me- Cavetown

“You don't have to be a prodigy to be unique

You don't have to know what to say or what to think”

“You want me to be the main vocal?” Jungkook stared wide eyed at Aviva. “But this is so sudden… I’m not ready…”

“That’s okay. It’s your debut song, so if you felt totally ready, I’d say you were being overconfident,” Aviva said, reaching over and hugging him.

“Our maknae!” Jimin clapped his hands and then jumped over, wrapping his arms around both of them as far as they would go. “Don’t worry about it too much! I’ll make sure to be a good lead!”

“But—but still…” Jungkook squirmed out of their arms. “Why am I the main vocal? There are other singers.”

“I asked everyone their opinion, and it was a nearly unanimous decision,” Aviva told him. Yoongi frowned.

“Nearly? Who didn’t vote for the maknae?”

Jungkook sighed. “I didn’t.”

“Oh.” Yoongi nodded. “I see.”

“I think it was the right choice,” Jin put in. “Jungkook-ah, your voice is the most stable, anyway.”

“Nice face, great body, and sings well too! Wow!” Taehyung shot him a thumb’s up. “You’re not our Golden Maknae for nothing!”

Jungkook swallowed, rubbing his throat.

“Oh, if your throat feels sore, I’ve got you covered,” Aviva said, pointing to a bag she placed on the couch.

“What’s in here?” Jin wondered, poking around. “Ah… I see… Certainly a lot of variety, manager-nim.” Everyone gathered around.

“I put my trust in modern medicine! I choose the ice-cold cooling spray!” Namjoon grabbed it.

“Lozenges should be plenty,” Yoongi thought, comparing two different packages.

“They’re different flavors,” Aviva told him.

“Yeah, but which one works better?” Yoongi wondered.

“And which one tastes better?” Jin wondered. Aviva frowned.

“Wait a minute, my Jungkookie senses are tingling.”

“Your what are what?” Jin asked, blinking at her.

“Spiderman reference,” Hoseok told him, doing the pose.

“Ah! Spiderman!” Jin nodded, also doing the pose.

“This happened a couple of times in LA,” Aviva said. “If I’m right—”

“Whoosh!”

“Whoosh!” Jin and Hoseok were pretending to spray each other with web.

Aviva shushed them. “Listen for a minute.” The sounds of music and Jungkook’s verse came floating towards them.

“Ah…” Jimin grimaced. “He’s practicing already.”

“This happened in LA?” Namjoon asked Aviva, his brow furrowing. “You didn’t mention it before.” Aviva shrugged.

“It was only a couple of times, when he got really stressed out about having trouble with a routine, he would sneak off and practice it himself until he got it down.”

“Ah, yeah, I’ve seen that.” Hoseok shook his head. “I’ve tried telling him not to stress so much, but…” Aviva frowned.

“Think about a time when you were really angry, or really sad, would telling you to ‘calm down’ or ‘cheer up’ help at all?”

Hoseok blinked. “I guess not.”

“I’d probably just get angrier out of spite,” Jimin thought.

“Yeah…” Aviva breathed out. “I know this isn’t talked about a lot around here, but it’s normal for you guys to face a lot of stressful, and emotional situations in this industry. It would be good to have some copping mechanisms prepared.”

Namjoon nodded slowly. “Have you talked to Jungkookie about that?”

“Yeah. I think that was the closest he’s ever come to yelling at me,” Aviva thought.

Namjoon blinked.

“Jungkookie, yell, at you? Wow, yeah, he must’ve been very stressed out.”

“He respects you a lot, Avi-noona,” Taehyung thought. “But maybe that just makes it harder for him sometimes, cause he wants to look good in front of you.”

“Hmmm…” Aviva ran her hand through her hair. “I wish I knew what to do.” She turned to Jin. “He’s been eating, right?”

“Seokjin’s Chicken House is open 24/7. We also provide delivery…” He winked at her. Aviva laughed.

“I might take you up on that sometime, when I don’t feel like cooking.”

Namjoon rested his hands on his hips. “Back to Jungkook-ah... I guess all we can do is be there for him. He says he’s not, but he’s capable of doing well, and then some.”

On the morning of the first day of recording, Jin invited Aviva over for breakfast.

“Wow, Jin-oppa…” She looked over the large spread. “This looks great!”

“Wait!” Namjoon said, as everyone moved to dig in. “Our Golden Maknae first!”

“What? Me?” Jungkook stared at him. Aviva frowned.

“Yeah.” Yoongi nodded. “Being main vocal is hard, so you need to eat more. I agree.”

“Did you sleep okay?” Aviva asked him as he picked up his chopsticks. His hands were shaking slightly. She pushed his hair back from his face. He was pale.

“I’m fine, noona,” Jungkook muttered.

“Soy-braised beef.” Hoseok held the platter out to him. “Let me fill your plate!” Everyone started piling things onto Jungkook’s plate.

“Thanks…everyone, but I sing better on an empty stomach,” Jungkook said, his pale face looking slightly green now. “I’m gonna go nap in the car…”

“At least have some water,” Aviva said, moving to pour some for him.

“I said I’m fine!” Jungkook snapped. “You don’t have to always baby me!” Everyone stared at him. He froze for a moment, and then ran out the door. Namjoon reached over and squeezed Aviva’s shoulder.

“You okay?”

She just grimaced.

“Huh? Jungkookie doesn’t want the meat?” Jimin stared at it hungrily.

“I guess he just wanted time al—Hey, Jimin-ah, you couldn’t even be a little patient?” Namjoon said, slapping his chopsticks down. Meat splattered over the table.

“Kim Namjoon-ssi!” Jin said, standing up. “Don’t waste food!”

“Ah, sorry, hyung! I’m clean it up.” Namjoon reached for a napkin and knocked over someone’s water, spilling it over Jin’s plate. Jin started cursing as Namjoon kept apologizing.

“Save the meat!” Taehyung said, grabbing the plate and munching on it steadily.

“Tae!” Jimin shouted. “Leave some for me!”

“If Jungkookie can pass on something this delicious, he must be ready!” Tae thought. “It means he’s completely focused on the song, and nothing else.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Aviva said quietly. She felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned. “Yoongi-oppa?” She hoped he had something encouraging to say.

“You distract Tae while I grab the meat,” he told her.

Aviva left the boys to fight over the meat, checking the car to find Jungkook stretched out in the back.

“Time to go yet?” He said, his eyes still closed.

“Not yet,” she said. “They might be a while.” He let out a breath.

“Noona?”

“Hmm?”

“Sorry for shouting at you.”

“It’s fine,” she said. Jungkook made an uncertain noise.

While recording his section, Jungkook became fidgety, and his voice cracked. He coughed, and spluttered, looking pleadingly through the glass at Namjoon.

“Hyung,” he said, raspy. “I’m losing my voice…”

Aviva took Jungkook to a doctor, worried about his throat, while Jin drove the rest of the boys back to the dorm.

“Jeon Jungkook-ssi, I’m very concerned,” the doctor said.

Aviva’s jaw worked. She let out a breath.

“What are you concerned about, doctor?”

“Well, let’s just get this out of the way… I don’t see any physical issues with the vocal chords at all. His throat is exceptionally healthy. “

“Then…?” Aviva wondered.

“The patient is a 16-year-old boy, right? What’s going on that he’s so stressed out? Looking at these test results, I’d expect him to be a soldier in an active combat zone.” The doctor handed over a pile of papers. Aviva skimmed them, but there were a lot of words she didn’t understand.

She and Jungkook took the train and a bus back together. With Jungkook’s permission, Aviva took out a dictionary and began translating a bunch of the medical terms. “Cortisol, adrenaline… ah, I see why she was so worried.”

“Explain it to me,” Jungkook said. “Please.”

“Cortisol and adrenaline are hormones that the body releases during stressful situations. They can help you preform at a higher level than usual, but too much exposure can have a negative impact on your mind and body,” Aviva told him. Jungkook frowned, looking from the dictionary to her.

“It doesn’t say all that in here. Did you just happen to know it? Are you secretly a genius like Namjoon hyung?”

She shrugged. “I didn’t do particularly well in Chemistry. I mean, I never got to learn it properly, so I just studied it on my own for the test I took… it’s, um, like the equivalent of a high school diploma in the U.S, so if it makes me a little less under qualified there, you know? But, um, I know about these hormones in particular, cause I’ve had them on my blood tests before too, in high levels.”

Jungkook squeezed his hands into fists in his lap. “Jen-ah said… she said both of you have suffered from a lot of anxiety, just like me.”

“Yeah.” Aviva nodded. “We have.”

“She also said you read a lot of books on how to deal with that kind of stuff, and taught yourself coping techniques. I know you offered to teach me before, but… do you think you could try again? I mean, if you still want to.”

“Jungkook-ah, at the time, I probably should’ve seen a doctor, instead of taking it on myself,” Aviva admitted. “I’m not a professional.”

“I can’t,” Jungkook muttered. “If I’m going to be an idol, and that gets out… Anyway, I’m still a minor. My parents would have to pay for it, and I don’t want to worry them.” Aviva sighed. “Will you help me?”

“I’ll do my best, Jungkook-ah.” Over the rest of the bus ride, Aviva taught Jungkook a few breathing and grounding techniques.

Back at the dorm, Taehyung and Jimin immediately grabbed Jungkook, dragging him into one of the rooms. “Don’t worry, we’ll take care of you!” Tae said.

“Aviva-yah,” Namjoon said. “How is he?”

“Well, Jungkook-ah said it was okay for me to share this with you, but don’t go spreading it around, okay?” After they nodded, she told them about his test results.

“Fuck,” Yoongi said.

“We fucked up,” Hoseok agreed. “I guess the things we thought were supportive were just putting even more pressure on him.”

“We have to remember, he’s only sixteen,” Aviva said.

Namjoon rubbed his neck. “This is my fault. He’s talented and he works hard, so I kept pushing him…”

“We all played a hand,” Yoongi said. “We’re a team.”

Namjoon smiled tensely at him. “Yeah, hyung, but I’m supposed to be the leader. So I should take responsibility.”

“Should we go rescue him from Jimin-ah and Taehyungie?” Aviva wondered. “Ah, but maybe he’ll think I’m babying him again…”

Jin patted her on the back. “We’re all worried. We just want to help.”

“Yeah, but…” Yoongi shook his head, looking at Aviva. “You told us there was no physical injury, and I still saw Jimin-ah grab the first aid kit.”

“At least they’re sure to shower him with lots of attention!” Hoseok said cheerfully. Then he wilted. “Wait, maybe that would just stress him out more…”

“He needs to build some confidence,” Yoongi thought. “But how?”

“If we could just get him singing, but not thinking so much about it,” Jin thought. “Ah, wait!” He snapped his fingers. “I’m a genius! I have the perfect idea.” He tilted his head. “Well, maybe.” He shrugged. “Eh, it’s worth a try.”

Namjoon stared at him. “…You’re gonna give me whiplash, hyung.”

“Avi-yah.” Jin put his hands on her shoulders. “I will draw Jimin-ah and Taehyung-ah out, so you go talk to Jungkookie and work your manager-magic until I give you the signal.” He started pushing her down the hall.

“Manager-magic?” Namjoon wondered.

“What’s the signal?” Aviva wanted to know.

“You’ll know it when you see it!” Jin said excitedly.

Aviva waited until Jimin and Taehyung ran out of the room, shooting her thumbs up and grins, before running off again towards the kitchen. Aviva knocked on the door uncertainly. “Jungkook-ah? Are you sleeping? Can I come in?”

“Ah, noona… okay. It’s a little embarrassing, but I think I could use a hand with these.”

“What’s embarrass—” Aviva dissolved into giggles when she saw the bandages wrapped around his head and his arm.

“Ah, I’m not sure if they were actually trying to help, or just mess with me, but…” He struggled with one of the bandages. Aviva sat next to him on the bed.

“May I…?” She reached towards him. He nodded. He watched her as she worked out the knot, her lip pinched between her front teeth as she concentrated.

“Noona, can I ask you… those things you were nervous about in the past, the things that gave you test results like mine, and made you want to learn those techniques… were you able to get passed it?”

“Hmm, well, there were a couple of different situations,” she said, unwrapping the bandage from his head and moving to the one on his arm. “One situation that used to give me a lot of anxiety was the idea of moving to South Korea. In general, I think I handled that pretty well.” Jungkook nodded.

“You’re one of the strongest people I know,” he said. She smiled.

“Thank you. I know you mean it when you say it, but I don’t think I’ve ever felt that way myself. Some days I struggle to do even the bare minimum.” She finished taking the bandage off of his arm and twisted it into a ball. “Another situation I was anxious about was that High School test I mentioned earlier. I passed, but… I didn’t do very well. Chances are, if I ever want to take any classes in the U.S. again, I would need to retake that test first. Some days, you don’t win.”

Jungkook flopped down onto his back, staring at the ceiling.

“So you’re saying either I give up, or I just keep trying until I get it right?”

She lay down next to him. “I didn’t say that. I mean, you could do that, but it sounds very tiring, Jungkookie.”

He turned on his side, looking at her. “It is. Is there a third option?”

“I don’t know. But there’s usually an alternative route, you just have to find it. If it’s a goal you want to reach badly enough, you should keep trying until you get it, but maybe try a few different ways?” She sighed. “I don’t know, JK, I’m still figuring this out.” He smiled.

“That’s one thing I like about you, noona, you’re not afraid to admit when you don’t have the answers. Right now, I don’t know what to do. I really want to be the main vocalist, I really want to do well, but… I don’t know how. How do I find the alternative route?” Suddenly there was a knock on the window. They both jumped, Jungkook moving slightly in front of Aviva. “Burglars?”

“Um, I don’t think so. I think it might be…” She walked over to the window and pulled open the curtain, rolling her eyes when she saw Jin striking a pose on the other side. Jungkook snickered.

“What’s he doing?”

“I’ve got no clue. Let’s find out.” Aviva pulled open the window. “Oppa, I am very interested to see where you’re going with this.”

“Prepare to be amazed, manager-nim, and Jeon Jungkook-ah!” Jin said, striking another pose.

Aviva sniffed. “Something smells good.”

“Why, thank you, Namjoon-ah’s minding it for me, though, so we’d better hurry before he lets it burn. Come join us in the backyard, okay?” Jin rushed off.

Jungkook and Aviva exchanged a bemused look before rushing for the door.

The boys had used a plank of wood and some crates to fashion together a low table, placing a grill on top of it, where they were cheerfully cooking meat and vegetable skewers. Someone had strung Christmas lights up overhead, giving the backyard a cozy and warm atmosphere.

“You have to add onions!” Hoseok was saying. “Onions are the best when grilled.”

“It’s a miracle cure!” Taehyung singsonged. “When you’re feeling down, you go go full speed ahead to where the meat is!”

“The guest of honor is late!” Namjoon said, grinning at Jungkook.

“Come on, come on!” Jimin said, running over to them, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him over to sit. Aviva hovered awkwardly in the background for a moment before Jin caught her eye and waved her over. She sat in an empty spot between him and Yoongi.

“What do you think?” Jin asked, turning to Jungkook and motioning at everything.

“…Looks good,” Jungkook admitted, a small smile slipping onto his face. The other boys cheered. Hoseok started pouring everyone a cup of beer while Jin started making up a plate for Aviva.

“So eat and cheer up!” Taehyung said, nudging Jungkook’s arm with his.

“Yeah, eat and hang in there so we can practice even harder!” Hoseok said. Aviva frowned at him.

“Hobi…” She said warningly.

“I’m fine,” Jungkook told her, actually looking like he meant it for once.

“Let’s eat until we die!” Yoongi said, grabbing another piece of meat.

“Eat until we die?” Jin repeated. “Don’t you mean eat until we debut?”

Yoongi snorted. “Wait, before we eat,” Taehyung said, ignoring Yoongi’s pointed chewing. “Shouldn’t we say something?”

“Oh yeah, a toast,” Hoseok agreed. “We can’t skip that.”

“I always do it… so today should be the maknae’s turn,” Namjoon suggested. Everyone cheered again. Jungkook waved his hand dismissively.

“You should say something, since it’s your party,” Jimin agreed.

“If you don’t have anything prepared, you can say Seokjin-hyung thanks for the delicious meat!” Jin offered.

“Or something like Taehyung-hyung, I love you!” Tae suggested. Jin laughed.

“Ah…” Jungkook stared down at his drink. “I’m sorry, for being the worst one in the studio—” Everyone interrupted him with noises of protest.

“What do you mean? Don’t say that!” Jimin whined.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Jin agreed.

Namjoon insisted Jungkook had done so well that his ears had melted and fused together. Hoseok played along, asking him if he needed to go to the hospital.

“Or maybe Aviva-yah can kiss it better?” He cooed. Even in the dark they could see Namjoon’s face flush.

“You kiss it better yourself,” Aviva said, tired of his antics. Hoseok looked at Namjoon thoughtfully as everyone laughed.

“Jungkookie, you’re the main vocal. If you keep saying you didn’t do well, what does that make us?” Taehyung wondered.

Jungkook looked thoughtful.

“If Jungkook-ah can’t think of anything to say, maybe he should just serenade us, melt our ears,” Namjoon put in.

Jungkook started to sing, with the others gradually joining in. By the second chorus, even Aviva had joined, so quietly that only Yoongi and Jin heard and glanced at her, grinning.

“You’ve got a nice voice,” Yoongi said in her ear, making her shiver slightly. “Are you sure you’re not the one who should be debuting?”

“Shut up!” She whispered, elbowing him. He winced.

“Watch the shoulder,” he muttered.

“Sorry!”

Aviva stayed over early into the morning, helping clean the yard so the landlady wouldn’t yell at them.

“Well, these two are useless,” Namjoon thought, his voice muffled as Taehyung squished his cheeks, serenading him. Jimin was hanging off of Joon’s back like a monkey.

“Send them to bed,” Aviva told him.

“Yeah.” Namjoon gave Jimin a piggy-back ride. Taehyung trailed after them, still singing.

“Ah, I think Hobi-hyung is done for as well,” Jungkook (only slightly drunk himself), spoke up.

“I can tuck him in,” Aviva offered.

“Yay!” Hoseok hugged her tightly, pressing her face against his chest, tucking his chin over the top of her head.

“Ugh, Hobi, can’t breath!” Aviva squeaked.

“Avi’s comin’ to bed with me!” Hoseok gloated to Yoongi, sticking his tongue out. “Take that, hyung!” Yoongi glared at him.

“Jungkook-ah,” he said firmly.

“Got it.” Jungkook grabbed Hoseok’s arm and peeled him off of her with surprising strength. “Come on, hyung, don’t do anything you’ll regret in the morning.”

“No regrets!” Hoseok cried, slinging his arm around the younger boy’s shoulders.

“You okay?” Yoongi asked Aviva, a little concern leaking through his usual blank expression. Aviva smiled.

“It’s fine, Hobi’s always clingy, even when he’s not drunk.”

“Yeah, I guess…” Yoongi was still frowning.

“Chingu!” Jin called. “Where are those garbage bags?”

“Eh, you used all of them already?” Yoongi groaned. “Seriously?” He took a full bag and dragged it over to the door. “I’ll get more.” He leaned close to Aviva. “Keep an eye on hyung, he’s drunker than he looks.”

“Okay,” Aviva said. “Yoongi…”

“Hmm?”

“Are you okay carrying all that? Your shoulder—”

“It’s fine,” he said tensely, sighing when she stared at him. “No, for real. Physical therapy helped a lot.”

“That’s great.” Aviva gave him a quick hug before going back to Jin.

“So…” Jin hummed as he cleaned, his neck flushed from the alcohol. “You and Yoongi-yah…?”

“What about Yoongi-oppa?” Aviva asked innocently.

“Well, isn’t that the stereotypical plot, the group members all fighting over the same girl?” Jin thought. Aviva frowned.

“You watch too many dramas.”

“Maybe.” Jin shrugged. “I’m just saying I wouldn’t want that to happen, especially before we’ve even debuted.”

“Jin-oppa, they just like to joke around, they’re not seriously interested in me.”

“Aish, Aviva-yah, you aren’t that oblivious, are you?” Jin looked her in the eye, suddenly looking a lot less drunk than he had a moment ago. She ignored the heat rising in her face, holding the eye contact without flinching.

“It wouldn’t happen. I’m a good friend to have, but as far as… I wouldn’t be a good girlfriend.” She’d only had a sip of beer with the cheers earlier, she wondered if it was possible to drunk off of one sip? Or was she overtired? Because these were things she had never spoken about, not even with Soonyoung or Jen. These were things she didn’t even like to think about in the privacy of her own mind. “There are things I don’t… I won’t…” She let out a breath, letting her words fade away.

“… I’m sorry, Viva-yah, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings,” Jin said, his expression softening. “I think I might’ve been too harsh.”

[thewhitefluffyhat]

Thoughts on Karin’s Magical Girl Story

Another collection of thoughts and reactions, plus analyzing some small changes the NA translation made (similar to the translation comparison I did for Alina’s MGS a while back).

Starting off with not a change, but an interesting note: Karin and Alina’s club situation is rather strange.  Alina is the “outsider” from the Art Club, while Karin is part of the Manga Club.  The classroom they share, though, doesn’t appear to be the main space for either club.  I’d initially assumed that it was the room originally used for the Manga Club, but once Arc 2 updates these backgrounds...

It turns out this actually is an art classroom!  I guess the school just has two?

First major change: Just like in Alina’s MGS, they removed direct references to Karin and Alina’s ages.  The reference to Karin’s age at the start of the Magical Halloween Theater event was also changed.

(In JP here, Alina was said to have won a lot of different awards “for a 16 year old,” while Karin stated her age as 14 in the MHT event.)

Again, unsure of why the change, but it could be in order to fix the continuity issues. Because good lord, that continuity is snarled...

I think the order that makes the most sense is Karin MGS > Alina MGS > Magius forms > one year passes > MHT > Main Story Ch5 > Holy Alina’s MGS.  In theory, then Karin should be 13 and Alina should be 15 in their Magical Girl Stories and then 14 and 16 in the present, but as mentioned that’s contradicted by the start of Karin’s MGS in the original Japanese.

There’s also the weirdness around when/how Karin learned Alina was a magical girl, since Karin seems aware of it in MHT, yet it’s unclear if she knows in Holy Alina’s MGS.

… Anyway, stuff like this is why I gave up on constructing a coherent timeline for Magia Record.  There’s just too many continuity tangles.  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

References to Karin being in her second year in middle school and the third years leaving – also changed.  Probably because it’s both an uncommon way to refer to grades in English, and also, once again, another continuity issue.  (If the third years left, why is Alina still there in one years’ time if she’s at least one grade ahead of Karin?)

Another change: some specifics in why Karin and Alina are in the same classroom together.  In JP, it’s not specified who made the deal to let Alina use the room.  If anything it seems like Karin is the one making a deal directly with Alina.

Which actually makes far more sense all around – why does “the school” care that Alina is giving informal lessons to some random kid?

And it makes more sense from Alina’s perspective too, in that it explains why she tolerates Karin constantly bothering her – putting up with Karin is explicitly the price she’s paying to Karin for using the space.

Oh boy, this.  Karin having this mindset is why it took me so long to really ship AliKari.  Because the dark undertone to “if only I improve, then surely Alina will treat me better” is that Karin is blaming herself when Alina is cruel to her.  And that can very easily slide into an abusive relationship - if you don’t consider it one already.

Alina treating Karin decently should not be dependent on Karin’s art skill.  Or anything else, for that matter.  Full stop.

(Tangent time, including some Arc 2 spoilers)

What ultimately made me come around to AliKari is some of the early Arc 2 stuff, where Karin starts thinking the reason Alina disappeared is because Alina is mad at Karin for not improving.  Karin’s explanation is spectacularly wrong, so I’m now more trusting that the game is implying that Karin’s mindset is going to change. That she’ll stop believing she’s at fault for Alina’s actions - and hopefully stand up to Alina too while she’s at it.

The other half of the equation is Alina, who as far as I can tell, is genuinely not interested in bullying Karin.  She certainly has every opportunity to do so – especially given how her teacher punishes Karin for Alina’s behavior – but Alina never takes advantage of it.  So while she is overly harsh and blunt about expressing her opinions to Karin, I don’t get the sense there is any manipulation underlying it.  Indeed, very unusually for Alina, we also never see her enjoying or fantasizing about Karin’s pain or distress.  She really, truly, just wants Karin to get better at art already!

Obviously, for any kind of relationship between the two to work, they would both need to undergo significant character development.  But that’s the draw of AliKari – while other characters have stagnated (sigh, RikaRen), Alina and Karin are still some of the most dynamic characters in the game. And in general, the direction has been that despite starting out in a bad place (like Karin’s mindset above), they’re growing to become very positive influences on each other.

(End tangent)

Enjoying the extra cliches thrown in here and there, and in general how they translated Karin’s dramatics by adding additional cheesy and on-theme descriptions.  Stuff like “dark and dreary night” or “cauldron of trouble” aren’t in the original Japanese, but they’re wonderfully in-character – honestly probably an improvement over the original!

Not a change, but more reminding myself that I really need to read Kamikaze Kaitou Jeanne.  I’m like 97% sure that’s what’s being referenced here – the plot description and even the comments Karin makes about “Phantom Thief Kirin” In her later Magic unlock quotes are all a very close match.

Interestingly enough, I’ve heard KKJ mentioned as an earlier dark magical girl series that Madoka Magica rips off.  So it’s quite interesting to see it referenced again back in a PMMM property – I wonder which part of the creative team was responsible for this detail?

Hm, so, the subject and detail of Karin and Alina’s conversation in the middle differs between translations.  In JP, the subject is vague, so the fan translation has Alina going off on an extended metaphor comparing the history of art to the protagonist of Karin’s manga.  Meanwhile, in NA she just makes vague comments comparing her own growth as an artist.  

I think I prefer the former - Alina usually doesn’t like talking about herself, but she sure loves to ramble about art history.

The translation I can find for the metaphor Karin’s grandmother uses here in JP renders it “barely able to keep a business going” - so did Karin’s grandmother possibly own a business herself?  That’s a bit more interesting than just “struggled to make ends meet.”

Speaking of Karin’s grandmother, I really like her as a character.  Her relationship with Karin is really sweet - I mean, how often do you see a teenage girl and an older woman being fans of something together?  It happens in real life plenty of times, but it’s so rare to see this kind of interaction represented in fiction.

And it’s nice to see an example of mental illness being treated as just that – an illness.  I especially like that there’s consent to the cure – Grandma outright says she wishes to be cured, rather than Karin deciding as such on her own.  (As Karin is often wont to do…)

This is a fun illustration of how Alina has a very strong internal logic to her, but she’s really terrible at communicating it to other people.

Karin, naturally, takes Alina’s comment here as an exceptionally mean thing to say – it sounds like Alina is callously implying the thing Karin worked so hard on was so bad it wasn’t even worth Alina’s time to destroy, so she’s making Karin suffer even more in having to destroy it herself.

And the way Alina elaborates makes it quite clear that yes, she did mean to call Karin’s work garbage.  This isn’t Alina having difficulty with Japanese or English.

But while Alina’s sense of taste can be quite sadistic, I don’t think that’s what she was aiming for here.  Remember that Alina believes that “only the artist themselves has the right to destroy their work.”  So this is actually Alina acknowledging Karin’s work as art, and therefore only Karin has the right to rip it up.

And why rip it up?  Because whenever Alina finds her own work unsatisfactory, she destroys it.  Hence Alina’s question at the end of this little back-and-forth:

If Karin doesn’t want to rip up her manga, then according to Alina’s logic, that means she must be happy and satisfied with it.  But even Alina can tell that Karin is still unsatisfied and lying to herself, hence Alina’s frustration and confusion at Karin not destroying her work.

Another timeline note: Alina doesn’t lie, and even if she did, she doesn’t have a ring here.  So I think it’s pretty settled that Karin’s MGS takes place before Alina learned about magical girls.

Oh huh. In NA, Alina thinks she’ll be the one in trouble if Karin isn’t ready.  In the fan translation I’m used to, it seems like Alina is saying she’d just be mad herself… but I think NA has it right here.  (In the original JP, Alina is using the passive form of “get angry” without a subject.)

Both work, but the impression NA gives with both this change and the earlier one is that someone at the school is basically putting Alina in charge of supervising Karin.  Which… what the hell, Sakae Academy?

Going back a bit, Alina’s advice and its effect on Karin is interesting.  One of Karin’s flaws really is that she makes excuses for herself and only half-commits, so Alina pushing her to think about what she truly wants and work hard to get it was genuinely what Karin needed to hear at the time.

However, Alina is also an obsessive perfectionist that tends to push herself to very clearly unhealthy levels…

So it’s rather fitting that on following Alina’s advice, Karin ends up pushing herself into doing something very dangerous: insisting on fighting a witch alone even though Kaede tries to get her to retreat.  Karin is so determined she’s risking her life to fulfill her goal – something Alina would no doubt approve of.  But also a great illustration of why Alina and her advice is flawed too.

Which, come to think of it, is part of why Karin and Alina’s MGS actually form a nice pair of complementary short stories.  If you read them in chronological(?) / original JP release order, you first get to see how Alina helps Karin to grow as a person, and if you think hard about it, you can kind of see foreshadowing for Alina’s own issues.  Then in Alina’s MGS, you get confirmation of that foreshadowing about Alina, and furthermore, the payoff to Karin’s development with her now being the one to give Alina some hard-hitting advice.

[argumentl]

The Freedom of Expression Ep 1 - Haruna Fuuka files lawsuit against internet slanderers

*with Kaoru (K), Joe (J), Tasai (T) , who is a journalist writing for the newspaper Tokyo Sports, and Kami/god.*

Kaoru: Hi, this is Dir en grey's Kaoru. Have you heard of 'The Freedom of Expression' somewhere before?

Joe, Tasai : *noding*

K: I've a feeling we've done this before...

J: Thats right, yes...Its not a feeling, we actually did.

K: We are reviving the show we did on the radio station InterFM from 2015-16, on youtube this time.

J: Awesome

*applause*

J: I was really happy when I was first told about the revival.

K: I was also surprised *laughs*

J: Its not that you were made to revive the show though, right Kaoru?

K: The suggestion just came at me.

J: Oh really, like 'How about it?'

K: Like, 'Wanna tryy?' 1*

J: Ah, in a Kansai accent?

K:Yes yes

J: Like, 'Lets tryyy'..kind of thing...it started like that *laughs*

K: Yep

J: We did quite a lot (on InterFM). We even did a special edition

K, T : Yes, we did

J: We even made stickers

K: Brazil!

J:Yes

T: Ah, the live broadcast..at the Olympics

J: It was Dobashi san...Bishbash Dobashi san.

T: It would be good if we could do another live broadcast at this year's Tokyo Olympics.

J: On this You tube channel?

T: Yes *laughs*

J: A live broadcast might be a bit difficult legally, as for the Olymipcs *T laughs*

K: Um, thats *shhh*

J: Oh, its a secret!' *K laughing*  Maybe if were are asked by Tokyo Sports..?

K: Yes yes...So, as to the freedom of expression... 

Kami/god: Wait, wait, wait..I've come down too.

J: Oh, Kami?

K: He's saying it from himself *laughs*..I thought he would come if we beckoned him though.

J: Thats what usually happened. He was the kind of god that would come down after we called him, but now a god that comes down on his own accord.

K: Wasn't he like that before too? Should we keep him in reseve a bit more?

J: He'll want to appear, we can't help it?

Kami: You were forgetting about me!

K: We are not forgetting you!

Kami: You musn't forget your god!

*laughing*

T: We are not forgetting you!

Kami: Its not good!

J: You are always in our hearts.

T: Yes, he is.

Kami: Yes, thats it..you have to think like that.

J: But, you are not in the studio today, kami?

Kami: Oh..um, im just getting off a night shift..

J: A night shift?!

K: Ah, but it was like that before..

Kami: Right.

J: You are doing night shift work again? *Tasai laughs*

Kami: yes, thats right.

K: That was a while ago wasn't it, how many years ago?

J: Oh, is this the night shift season?

Kami: No, its..

T: You worked for ￥1000 per hour right?

Kami: Yes, yes...my hourly rate has risen a bit though. They were telling me 'Take a rest, take a rest', so my income dropped.

J: Ahh, its what they called a 'reformed working style', right?

Kami: Right

J: Its tough for you too, Kami.

Kami: *laughs* Yes it is.

K: He's the same as ever...  so lets get started.

J, T: Please

K: Ah, by the way, Tasai san, as well as Bishbashi Dohashi san, wasn't there another person before (at InterFM)?

T: Yes..a beastly guy *K laughs* An old aquaintance of the listeners', a guy called Monster Hiranabe.

J: Its a strange story, but once when a certain celebrity died, Hiranabe-san called me up, and asked me if I had known the deceased guy...as soon as I said that I hadn't known him very well, he hung up on me straight away!

T: Thats awful!

J: He is awful

T: This very guy, Hiranabe, even got a promotion from the manager.

J: Eh? Promoted to what?!

T: To Director

J:Eh?! Really?

K: Is that okay??

J: No, it'll be terrible!

K: Right, lets move onto the main news...I'd like to get deeper into the concept of 'The Freedom of Expression'.

J: Right, so Haruna Fuuka has filed a lawsuit againts those who engage in 'internet slander'.

A tweet stated 'Both her parents created a failure'.

On Jan 14th, 18 year old Haruna and her mother filed a lawsuit at Yokohama district court demanding ￥2,654,000 in damages from a person engaged in spreading falsehoods which have damaged her dignity.

On the acknowledgement that these tweets went beyond what was deemed acceptable by society at large, on Nov 1st the internet provider was ordered to make public the persons name and address etc.

Haruna has been tweeting since the age of 9, giving her opinion at random about society's problems, and creating a stir. She now has over 200,000 followers and is fighting 10 years of slander. Kaoru, what do you think about this?

K: Well..I mean, naturally, you'd feel like that..

J: Hmm, but I don't know the details but..the name of the defendant has been withheld...well, its a common problem that as a person speaking in the public eye, you are going to get criticism along with praise...like a 'fame tax'.  That said, how far do you go before honour is damaged? On SNS, you are of course free to express yourself, you can write what you want, but the issue is what constitutes damage to honour. This might be a very difficult area in which to draw a legal line, but on the other hand, if you don't draw a legal line, things may escalate out of control...Kaoru, what do you think?

K: Well for example, if banter between friends is written down...controlling that...Its best not to look at whats written in the first place.

J: Ah, the person in question right? By the way Kaoru, its a strange question, but do you search for yourself online?

K: No, not really. I hear things, the office staff will tell me.

J: Oh, if anything is being said?

T: In the world of fame its quite true, that even if 98 or 99 opinions out of 100 are good, the one negative thing will stand out.

K: Well, yes, its the bad things that..

J: On the other hand, from the writers'  perspective at Tokyo Sports, how far are you willing to slander someone? You could write an article in a good or bad way..

T: Of course balance is important, but of course, if the courts want to complain to us, they can call us, and start an exchange, but in the case of slanders on the internet, its like, who do you complain to? So, if you ask celebrities, they will say Tokyo Sports slander is better than anonymous online slander because at least they can complain to our face.

J: Mm, absolutely. Just how far do we protect these tweets, these freedoms of expression? Its difficult.

K: Are these really 'expressions'?

J: Well, esentially, yes. When you say 'tweets' you think of nonsense, but really its media expressing things, or artists expressing things..

K: Yes, yes, you can get a sense of individual expression.

J: And this especially has the power to influence...

K: Yes, and people get swept up in it.

J: I think this is universal, but at the moment I think Japan is bit like a geyser, people will rush towards any incident and some will start complaining, I mean, I think its important to say what you feel, but its complaining without trying to solve anything, only satisfying yourself.

K: Thats it

J: Its sounds strange to say, but it ends like masturbation. If it turns into something towards a soloution its ok, but just creating thoughtless slander to satisfy yourself is questionable.

K: So its often said, if you continue the conversation only looking at the bad things, it can't be helped. There are also good people out there..you know, put more importance on those people. How to put it...its like we said before, if you focus too much on that one out of a hundred, its kind of rude to the other 99.

J: I see. Still this person has over 200,000 followers and its said she has been fighting slander for ten years.

T: She's always been a bit of a talking point online. I'll just search for her.

J: I also have Instagram, I do stuff to do with societal problems on The Dave Fromm show's youtube channel, and whenever I upload about it (on IG), my followers decrease!  *everyone laughs* Outrageously decrease! Im serious, despite getting so far, that channel updates every week, and with every update my followers decrease. Maybe people hate reading about societal problems..*to Tasai* What did you find?

T: So for example there was that thing recently about regulating gamers to 60mins per session, she had quite a few things to say about that, playing vs learning etc.

J: I see..Young people do complain, well you can't really tell here, but on the other hand, young people these days, i know they would hate us old guys talking about this, but young people apparently have three main taboos. The first is talking about sex, they dont follow this, the second is politics, they don't follow this either, and the other one is, they don't like being made to talk about the kind of things that they really need to be talking about...there seems to be this kind of trend. So i think in this way...theres a chance Haruna is getting right to the point of this. But certainly, applying the law in a way that recognises infringement/damage to honour by way of personal utterances has the potential to lead to restrictions on the freedom of expression. Its a difficult play off, isnt it?

T: Yes, it really is

J: Obviously, when it comes to race, or racial discrimination, there has come to be rules concerning hate speech and so on, but how far can you regulate one-to-one slandering, or..how far can you protect the person being attacked? Should the country or the judiciary decide this? Its difficult.

K: Kami, what do you think? Are you there?

Kami: Well, I hear slanders towards me all the time *everyone laughs* Like, god tells lies, god is useless, or even that there is no such thing as god!

J: Ahh, i see. They deny you!

Kami: Yes, thats it. If I care about those things, I lose!

J: Do you search for yourself online?

Kami: I do. *everyone laughs* ..and whenever I do its only ever those things that come up.

J: Ah of course...Kami, you have an exceptionally good handle on social media  dont you?

T: He's great

Kami: Ive got a good handle on it.

J: Do you use an iphone?

Kami: I have two.

J: God has two iphones! Thats brilliant.

Kami: Yep, I have two...im not allowed to use them while im working.

T: Does he have a contract? With his address and such?

J: I can't tell whether he's great, or whether he's not so great...

Kami: If i care, I lose...I prefer them to hate me, rather than to be indifferent to me.

K: Kami, what do you think about playing computer games for one hour?

Kami: If the kid is good at it, they should keep doing it.

T: I see, i see.

J: Ohh not sure about that. That seems a bit out.

Kami: No, i really think so. Skilled kids can carry on playing.

K: Should unskilled ones give up?

Kami: Yes, they shouldn't do it...When they play all day, and they just can't clear the level..that kind of kid.

K: Its a waste of time right?

Kami: Exactly, its a waste.

J: They should do something else?

Kami: Yes

K: You should quit if you have no talent for it?

Kami: Yes, yes, its talent.

J: Well, just getting off a nightshift must be tiring.

K: For us too, you know, we should try not to say 'stop it' too quickly...we have to keep it interesting.

Kami: It was interesting though, I was listening.

T: Oh thank you.

Kami: But don't tell lies about me.

T: If you thought it was interesting, you should write about it on your social media.

Kami: Yeh, everyone pretends on social media anyway, they won't know its me.

K: Well, that was the first episode of 'The Freedom of Expression' but, should I ask how it was..? *laughs*

J: But, being together again after a while was refreshing..

K,T: Yes, thats right

T: Im happy.

J: So am I.

K: Well, so we started in this vein....Tune in next time to see how it goes.  So this time, only this camera, theres nothing here *gestures behind*, but if lots of people watch, we could go different places, increase our cameras. I still don't know about your fee, Joe.

J: Eh?! What do you mean? It says here my fee will stay the same!

K: I might have to lower it *laughs*

J: *coughs* You're only lowering mine?...But everyone please subscribe.

K: Yes please. Please look forward to next time. Thank you very much.

1* They are saying 'How about this?' in a Kansai accent, how to translate that??

[hitsuackerman]

What in the World? (Akaashi Keiji x Reader) pt.8

Part 8 of WINTW? :D Enjoy! 

Akaashi’s lineup: @alluring-akaashi @oikawalmart-hq @extrasugafree @bbykiyoomi @apricotjihyo @awings​ @simpformiya @colorseeingchick @something-that-idk (i have no idea why i can’t tag some of you :( huhu )

links: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 9

The next match went by smoothly. They had lost to the opponent but they were all light hearted about it. Knowing the consequences, Akaashi gave the signal to begin the lap of diving. With a gym this large, that had to be tiring. They weren't complaining though. You had to remind yourself from time to time that this powerhouse school has reached nationals thrice.

Checking the data you recorded, Yukie, Kaori, and you began to compare notes.

"Bokuto-san has been using his straights a little more than usual." Kaori commented. "Probably wants to polish it or he's just warming up for the day."

"Haruki-san managed to save 80% of the balls for his 4th consecutive game. Better than last time." Yukie added.

"Washio-san managed to block all of the balls or one touched them." You inserted. Amazed at how this silent player was stronger than you'd estimated. Silent people really were deadly.

"Akaashi-san did exceptionally well in the last match." Yukie said. "He's getting used to the other's preferred distances and height now. Analytical skills still as sharp as ever, too."

Feeling proud of that compliment, you silently smiled to yourself. Being in class 6 also meant that your grades had to be maintained in every aspect. Akaashi can do all of those with being a vice captain and Bokuto’s close friend with such ease. Scribbling down a few notes, you stopped and tried to grab the notebook from Yukie.

“Well, well, well~”  She lazily teased. “Are you sure you were jotting down their shots or Akaashi-san’s alone?”

“You scribbled his name in different styles as well~” She added once she was by Yukie’s side. Giggling at the 5 different fonts of ‘Akaashi’. “You’re safe for now, little one. But, later before we sleep, better prepare for a little game of truth or dare with the other managers!”

“No escaping.”

A little scared of how serious Yukie was, you nodded and accepted the notebook. Holding it close to your chest, you held onto it like there was no tomorrow. Following the two of them, you found yourself cutting some watermelons

"You're the new trainee, right?" Shinzen's manager asked as she too sliced some watermelons and placed them on a tray. "I'm Mako, by the way."

"(l/n)." You slightly bowed.

"You handle the men really well!" She complimented you. Her light brown eyes focused on half of the fruit. "When I was new, it took a while to get used to such a diverse pack of personalities. It did help that they're soft idiots underneath the rough appearances."

"I'll have to agree." Taking a small piece of watermelon, you savored the refreshing sweetness. "Especially when Bokuto-san goes emo mode, Akaashi really manages to work and balance things out. With the groups effort too, of course."

"Anyway, I'll be seeing you later in our girl's night~" Grabbing the plate, you followed her and walked with a plate full of heavy fruit.

Along with Yukie, the three of you headed to the gym. Finding the boys playing with Karasuno, you couldn't help but feel happy when all the boys looked extra excited for the small sponsored snack. Few moments later, a small watermelon seed spitting contest had begun.

By the corner, you took out your phone to text o-mother. She wanted updates regarding the training and just didn't want to feel lonely while you were hours away. Just as you sent the text, yet another familiar voice made its presence known.

"Uh, are there still any watermelons left?"

Iida? That voice was Iida's. Turning around, you were met with Karasuno's setter. His face showed surprise at the sudden action. What were you hoping for? Of course that wasn't your close friend. Instead you were met with softer features but the similar shade of blue eyes made it feel a bit less lonely.

"I think there's still some by Nekoma's area." You finally replied.

"KAGEYAMA!" The small player whose name you recalled due to Bokuto's stories in the bus, suddenly appeared with light jumping steps. "Ah! That's why you went missing! You're sneaking out to talk to girls!"

"HINATA! YOU IDIOT!" Kageyama slapped Hinata only to have himself being hit as well. " I was just asking her if there were any more watermelons left!"

"Heee~ You could've just went to Nekoma's area instead of asking Fukurodani's manager!" He stuck his tongue out and the fight continued.

In some strange way, the two of them reminded you of Todoroki and Deku.

"OI! KAGEYAMA! SHOYO!" Another familiar voice came running to break the fight. A bit smaller than Hinata, you felt chills down your spine when you realized whose voice you heard. "THAT'S NOT HOW TO ACT WHEN YOUR TALKING TO LADIES!"

Bakugo?? It was weird. Having to hear such familiar voices with different faces holding them.

"Nishinoya! Libero!" He pointed his thumb towards his chest. An ear to ear grin plastered on his lips. The small tuft of blonde gave him that extra oomph.

"Please excuse them," An unfamiliar voice popped in as well. "They get uneasy when talking to girls. Daichi, captain of Karasuno."

Shaking his outstretched hand, you watched as he began to shoo them back into the gym. Giving an apologetic bow, you shook your head and soon followed them.

The little high of hearing the voices of your friends was now dying down. With the match now starting, you began the task of preparing their water bottles. It wasn't that hard but you did take note which bottle they preferred. Yukie and Kaori had to wonder how in the world you retained such tiny details.

The time you dreaded finally arrived.

The hours had flown by a little too quickly for your taste. Sitting in a circle, the female managers were now munching on some snacks that Yukie brought. Yachi and you began to talk about random stuff. It was interesting to hear her story of how she finally understood the importance of being a Townsperson B.

"If it wasn't for Hinata or Kageyama," She lightly scratched her cheek. "I probably wouldn't have found the confidence to become manager."

"Glad you did. Even the smallest of roles can have such a big impact." Recalling a few of your missions, you could feel how the confidence push made her shine even more.

"Okay, ladies!" Yukie now gathered your attention. "It's now time for the highlight of the night. A game of truth or dare."

Groans and giggles filled the room.

Taking a water bottle, she spun it around. Placing your hands in your jacket pockets, you manipulated the air each time the bottle faced you. The first victim had to be Yachi.

"Truth or dare, Yachi-chan." Kaori asked. When she chose truth, her cheeks flared at the question. "Who would make a great couple among the crows?"

This girl was kind but her questions were not.

"Uh, I thi-think," Hiding her face on her palms, Kiyoko and you patted her shoulders as a form of small encouragement. "D-Daichi-san and Suga-san."

Kiyoko covered her mouth and giggled. She nodded her head and agreed at the chosen 2.

The bottle was spun again. It began to slow down but with a little twitch of a finger, it landed towards Yukie. Mako took over and asked the question.

"If you could kiss any player in any of the schools here, which player would you go for?"

Tapping her index on the tip of her nose, she hummed and snapped her finger.

"Kenma." The other girls were a little shocked at her answer. When asked why, she merely shrugged and took a chip. "He's pretty interesting. And his pudding hair reminds me of food."

"Ahh." Both Kaori and you agreed and nodded. Her answer now made sense knowing that she had a thing for food.

The bottle was spun once again and this time it landed a safe distance away. The next to be questioned was Mako. Her question was who among the players would she take to the locker room and spend 7 minutes of heaven with. Yukie was definitely not lazy when it came to interrogations. Thank goodness you had a quirk.

“Kuroo would probably be fun to take into a closet but I think he’s a little too flirty for me.” She managed her thoughts out loud. Staying silent for a few seconds, she finally stated her answer. “Maybe Akaashi-san would be nice. He’s really respectful and pretty.”

The girls began to ‘ooh’ and giggle at her choice. Your two co-managers stared into your soul. Avoiding any sort of eye contact, you turned to face Yachi and sparked a conversation with her. That had to be the worst decision you made for the night. Being a bit too engrossed at such a random topic, you failed to take note of the bottle.

“Yo~ (y/n)~” Yukie’s lazy voice sent chills down your spine. Eyes widening at the realization that you forgot to focus your quirk on the bottle, you uttered a few curse words. “So, what’s with you and Akaashi?”

Mako gasped and covered her mouth. Telling her it was okay, you tried to wiggle your out.

“That’s not really a truth question.”

“Okay.” She crossed her arms and merely gave a lazy smirk. “If given the chance, would you take him to the rooftop and kiss him, tonight?”

“Why not?” You shrugged.

“Noted.” Kaori mumbled to herself, enough for you to hear. “Now that that’s over with, how ‘bout we do an open forum? Like what do you guys wanna talk about? Anything bothering you?”

Things went smoothly after that. Feeling a bit sleepy, you stifled a yawn and stretched without moving. Not that their problems or thoughts weren’t interesting, it was just the fact that today was a rather long day and the futon was very inviting. Reaching for your phone, you checked your messages and found Asami had replied.

Asami-chan: AAHHHH YOU BIIITSHH!! HOW DARE YOU TAKE A PICTURE WITH MY BOKUTO?! AND HOW DARE YOU DID NOT TAKE A SOLO PIC OF HIM?!

You: Drool. Chill. I’ll take one tomorrow.

Opening your mother’s response, you had to love how she sent a full on paragraph about how you should take care and that she misses you even more and a lot of fluffy words that made you smile. Reading the last part, you simply texted you loved her.

The last of the messages was sent no more than 4 minutes ago.

Akaashi: Good evening. Are you awake?

You: Yeah. We’re having a girl’s night here.

It was a bit of a shocker to see that he was now replying.

Akaashi: If you’re hungry, I have a snack bar.

You: Is it even allowed to go out of the rooms this time of night?

Akaashi: It’s still early. And Bokuto-san is still practicing with Kuroo-san so I have some spare time.

You: Can’t get enough of me?

Akaashi: I’ll meet you by the entrance.

Heart beating faster, you were now in a cinch. With the way the girls night was going, for sure you would be teased no doubt if you would mention his name. More so that the question given to you involved the person you were about to meet. Thinking about a reason, you stood up and went towards your bag. Rummaging aimlessly, you saw a napkin and nodded to yourself.

“I’ll be back.” Waving the item, the girls shooed you till you closed the door. Thus began the small run towards the entrance. When the last flight of stairs came, you slowed down and walked. Gotta catch your breath and not look like a fool.

“Hello to you.” You greeted him when you saw him. God he looked so good even with the dim lighting the area had to offer. In his hand were two snack bars. His drenched towel rested on his shoulder. Taking the bar, you sat beside him. Even with all the sweat, he smelled good. “You tired?”

“A bit.” He rolled his left shoulder. “Bokuto-san and Kuroo-san got into a competition and it so happens that I was the only setter in gym 3.”

“Oh.” Fidgeting with the bar, you inhaled and took a big bite. “I, uhh, can massage your shoulders if you want? I have pretty dandy hands”

“You don’t have to.” He stared at his shoes and wiped some non-existent sweat. The prospect of a shoulder massage would be very nice, he had to admit. But the thought of being seen by those two asses in the nearby gym was not good. Scanning the area, he saw the sprinting hill and waited if you would insist.

“I don’t mind.” Tucking a hair behind your ear, you bit your tongue and tried to calm down. “There’s not much malice in it anyway.”

Malice? Where and why did you even think of that word? Wondering why Akaashi stood up, he motioned for you to follow him. When he extended a hand, you didn’t need it but who could resist? Holding on to it, the both of you began to climb up the small sprinting area. Making sure that both of you were now behind the tree, he sat down and leaned on the trunk.

“So, uh, you can face that way to…” Fighting villains was nothing, but having to massage this sweaty man’s shoulders was a feat itself. When he followed instructions, you were now face to shoulder with Akaashi Keiji. This was even scarier when you had to battle with one of the eight precepts of death. With shaky hands, you warned Akaashi that you were about to start. He merely hummed.

When your palms touched his damp shirt, you activated your quirk to aid in relaxing his muscles. One of the advantages of having a quirk like yours was how you could manipulate the heat of your palms. Whenever you had sore or overworked muscles, a massage with your quirk always made you feel a thousand times better within a few minutes. Akaashi leaned in on your touch and let out an exhale. He could feel the effects of what you were secretly doing.

“You really do have dandy hands.” He praised you. Your small fingers delicately massaging the soreness away was something not even his own mother could do. Not wanting to strain you any further, he held on to your hands to signal you to stop. Peering over his shoulder, he gave a small smile and told you that was more than enough.

Leaning back on the trunk, he was amazed at how his body felt much more energized than last time. With your hand still being held by his, he stared at them for a moment before letting go. At the same time, the both of you missed the warmth and small tug.

“Thanks for the massage, (l/n).”

“No big deal.” Feeling that you used a small chunk of your quirk, you were silently thankful he still held on to your hand for an extended period of time. Though, when he let go, you kinda wished he didn’t. “Thanks for the snack bar, Akaashi.”

“Consider it payment for the massage.”

“Hey, hypothetical question.” Seeing him nod, you continued. “What if you, uhh, wake up one morning and find yourself in a completely different world; Different people, environment, everything. What would you do?”

“Hmm…” Giving him a few minutes, you were curious as to what his answer would be. “I’d probably lose my mind for the first couple of days. But I guess I could get information to see if it’s safe or dangerous. What about you?”

“I’d do the same thing.” The crickets were now chirping in the background. A soft breeze passed the both of you causing the leaves to rustle. “What if you met someone in that world? And they make you feel that there’s more to life than having to protect others constantly? Hypothetically, of course.”

“I don’t know.”

“Honestly, same.”

- - - - -

a/n: hihihi just a sprinkle of drama in this chapter :) hoping ya’ll like this! Akaashi’s lineup still accepting players! Drop a comment or message me if ya’ll wanna be listed :)

[tenspontaneite]

Peace Is A Journey (Chapter 17/?)

In which two princes learn the perils of extreme cold, Rayla neglects to take proper heed of said perils, and a Justiciar receives a very important message.

(Chapter length: 19.5k. ao3 link)

Warnings: Detailed depiction of meat preparation and dead animals, food shortage, standard wound care. Exceptionally mild emetophobia warning.

---

When at last Kora’s dark wings broke across the sky, nearly a day overdue, Amaya’s gut reaction was a kind of relief that felt more like sickness. The crow came to her directly, alighting on her armoured shoulder with a flitter of black feathers. She opened her beak and cawed in her usual peremptory way, turning her head this way and that to look at her, and presumably also the metallic gleam of her pauldrons.

Amaya scritched her on the neck, as the bird liked, and showed absolutely nothing of her feelings except a minute tightening around her eyes. In a flash she’d retrieved the letter and cast her eyes about looking for somewhere appropriate to stop to read it. Unfortunately, they were en route, paused upon their horses as Amaya stared at the crow. There was little privacy to be had in the absence of the command tent.

In the end, she lingered upon her horse with the letter in her hands, yet unread, for long enough that her entourage started shifting uneasily upon their mounts. Gren drew up beside her, and signed a quick question.

Finally, Amaya sighed, and gave orders for them all to pause for a break. This was, to say the least, a letter likely to be critical to their course. Corvus’ report would tell her where they needed to go. She focused furiously on that practical thought and almost managed to fool herself into believing that her fingers weren’t on the verge of trembling. She handed off her horse to Kurien, and then, with the crow still perched amiably on her shoulder, adjourned into the treeline for what little privacy it could offer.

She planted herself on the trunk of a half-rotted log, heavily enough that she could feel the clank of her armour falling upon it. The bottom of her shield hit the wood and yanked at its harness. She didn’t care. Amaya closed her eyes for a few seconds, breathing carefully, then finally set about opening the missive.

The first thing she noticed was the handwriting. It was…messy, and lopsided, and slanting across the page in a haphazard scrawl. If she didn’t know Corvus better, she’d have though it had been written drunk. That was the first ill sign, and it rattled at her skull like the vibrations of alarm-bells. The second was the clumsiness of the code. It wasn’t a common one – it was the cipher she used only with her command team, and was the likeliest to be secure. But in places, he seemed to have forgotten it entirely. There were whole sentences coached in the more common substitution code used in most military correspondence. There were even a few parts not written in code at all. And the way it read – there had plainly been something wrong with Corvus when he wrote it.

She read it anyway, albeit a little haltingly, with the mental effort of code-switching every other line. She read Corvus’ account of the commotion in Verdorn, and his investigations there, and a nameless emotion gripped so tightly at her heart that it hurt. She read of his pursuit, and his ambush, and the confirmation-

Amaya had to stop for a moment, then, to breathe. For the second time it felt like the world was falling apart around her. They’re alive, she thought, a little numbly, allowing herself to believe it as she hadn’t when it had been merely a possibility. It was too affecting a knowledge. She had to take a good half minute to close her eyes and gasp a few harsh breaths and try to compose herself past the awful, terrible, gut-wrenching relief of it. And then – then, she had to realise that the missive wasn’t done. And that something might well have gone terribly wrong. With a curl of dread, she read on.

…It had gone terribly wrong, in a way. Not so badly as it might have. But…

She closed her eyes again, gut churning, and tried to think past the roil of emotion to assess the matter with some practicality. The boys were alive – alive! – and seemed healthy and unharmed. But Corvus’ attack had failed, and almost calamitously – he’d sustained injuries that meant he would not be able to keep his pursuit, and the elf still had her captives. She was taking them into the mountains, now. If the trail wasn’t already dead, it would be soon.

Amaya assessed the time it would take her to reach Verdorn, and sighed, and shook her head. No; it was beyond doing. By the time she could reach the place, any trail she might follow into the mountains would be long gone. She wasn’t Corvus, to track the barest imprint a boot might make in the dust on a rock. And even she knew what he’d say. Following a trail through the Belt, when there were a thousand paths a wary elf might travel? When the snow and winds would remake the trails between one hour and the next?

It couldn’t be done. They’d have crossed a mountain by the time she took up the hunt, and then they could be anywhere. There were too many paths, too many options, too many places to hide. It would be like finding a needle in a haystack.

Gren drew near, then, evidently having decided to check on her. His expression was serious as he watched her, evidently aware of the gravity of the letter, if not its content. Amaya glanced his way, and handed him the paper without preamble. Before he could read it, she said “Get me a map, Gren. I need to work this out.”

He blinked, but managed to say around the paper in his hands “Of course,” And then he was using his voice to call for the map she’d requested. In short order she was unfolding it upon the short grass around the trunk of the tree, drawing her finger along the lines of rivers while Gren read Corvus’ report. She could see tension and relief and tight concern passing over him as he read, but she couldn’t focus on that. Couldn’t focus on emotion, much less her own, or everything would fall apart…

Amaya looked at the map. She looked at the mountains of the Belt, and the valley that cut it, and the river that straddled that valley. She looked to where it opened, and thought long and hard about what a fleeing assassin might be feeling, knowing that she was hunted. She’d want to get back to Xadia as quickly as possible. She’d want to take the path of least resistance, wherever she could. And mountains were decidedly not the path of least resistance.

Fort Viatori was the easiest path through the Belt, and to the rest of the Pentarchy, if you had legitimate business. If you didn’t, it almost certainly wasn’t an option; and besides, it was far enough off-course for the elf that there would be no time gained in going for it. The point of entry to the mountain range accessible through Verdorn…well, it wasn’t the worst, but it wasn’t the easiest, either. Hauling oneself and two captive princes through that gauntlet would take a while. But after that, the elf’s only prudent path was fairly obvious.

Amaya’s finger settled on the wide, boldly marked river. The Rhodane, the map proclaimed it, and on either side of its twisting shape was a thin margin of lowland denoting the wide valley that flanked it.

The Rhodane, in this part of the Pentarchy, ran almost directly East, and emptied out into the Great Bay. The wide sloping plains around it would be easier by far to traverse than mountain trails. No matter how wary of pursuit the elf was, Amaya couldn’t imagine her lengthening her journey twice or thrice over by choosing to travel through mountains rather than an open valley. Once the assassin broke from the Belt into the Rhodane’s path…her course would be obvious. Predictable, even.

‘Predictable’ was good. It was very, very good.

Amaya considered the valley, and then considered the Bay. Going around it would be a very lengthy pursuit. If she were an elf assassin fleeing home, she’d certainly attempt to stow away on some merchant vessel or other, and cut that journey short. Such a thing would be difficult with two prisoners along, but if Corvus was to be believed, they might not be much of a hindrance to her. Her gut tightened at the thought, but – well, it shouldn’t be surprising. Soldiers with decades of training fell prey to Captives’ Accord. Her nephews were only boys.

She deliberately uncurled her fingers from the tight fist they’d made, and thought of her course of action. She traced the line of the Rhodane westwards, to its intersection with Viatori, and the potential that represented. While her quarry would be struggling through the mountains…Amaya had only to take the beaten path.

Her plans solidified into something operative, and her jaw set. In the next moment, she was gesturing for paper.

She had a lot of orders to send, very little time to write them in, and only two crows to send them with. It wasn’t ideal, but…she’d make it work. And then, one way or another, she’d catch up to her boys – catch up to that elf – and find out what shape Justice would take in her hands.

 ---

 Rayla’s absence thrummed in the back of his mind with a tension like a taut bowstring, the anxiety of it compelling him to glance over to the empty ledge every other minute. Every time, the sight held nothing but the howling white of the storm, and his gut tightened a little more.

But, even in the grips of his worry, there was still work to be done.

“I’m assuming,” Callum said, in the strange ringing quiet out of the storm, “that Rayla wanted us to pile all the metal stuff away so we don’t get hit by lightning. Or attract lightning. Or something like that.” She hadn’t explained it before she left, but – given everything, it seemed a fairly reasonable conclusion.

His brother paused and considered it. “She did say we couldn’t put the tent up because the poles were metal.” Ez agreed, after a moment, and peered at their bags. “So that would make sense.”

He lifted his head, and perused their available space. Even in this shelter, it was impossible to escape every breeze. A chill gust fluttered along the skin of his neck, and he shivered. For all that it was distinctly warmer out of the snow and howling wind…he still felt uncomfortably numb from the awful cold. “…I guess we’ll just have to pile it all on the ledge out there, where the snow is.” He said, after a moment. “Help me go through the bags?”

“Sure.” He agreed, and they went over to their bags to inspect them. It was a fairly untidy affair, and involved unpacking nearly everything, but before long they’d amassed their small supply of metallics into a pile on the icy ground. “Maybe we can put it all in the tent pack.” Ez suggested, already opening said pack and upending its contents onto the icy stone floor. He took the little bag of tent pegs, and the larger tent rods, and put them back in. “That way it might not blow away as easy.”

“Good plan.” Callum decided, and in the dubious shelter of their not-cave, they set about doing precisely that.

There weren’t that many metallics to deal with. There was the iron pot, the tent poles, the scissors, a few other things…but, for the most part, they were all good. Still, the whole lot went in the tent pack and was exiled to a spot near the mouth of their refuge, where for good measure Ezran started piling rocks on top of it to weigh it down.

“No way is that going to blow away.” He said, with satisfaction, and rubbed his hands together through the gloves. “…My hands are pretty cold now, though.”

Callum rolled his eyes, and tugged his brother back into shelter. Not for the first time, he misjudged the height of the sloping ceiling and hit the top of his head before he remembered to duck. “Let’s just try to get ourselves warmed up, now. Alright?”

“Sounds good to me.” His brother sighed, and they pulled the outer-tent and inner-tent off to arrange.

After some struggling, they got the inner-tent fabric inside the outer-tent, and aligned their doorways so that they could actually sort of crawl inside – as Rayla had said, kind of like a weird and especially voluminous sleeping bag. The tent doorways were wide enough to accommodate Callum and Ezran easily, and there was plenty of room for Rayla too. They might even have more space to themselves tonight, compared to when they were squashed inside the actual tent.

In the absence of anything else to do, they sat inside their makeshift sleeping bag and went through their bags for additional layers of clothing to wear. Considering the number of layers they were already wearing, this mainly involved putting on a second pair of socks and an extra sweater each. Ezran also withdrew Azymondias’ egg and tucked its alarmingly bright glow under the covers with them, the light spilling out upon them from within. After a while huddling together beneath their layers, they found themselves approaching the concept of…not quite warmth, maybe, but a state of not-too-cold.

“My hands and toes are still freezing.” Ezran said, contemplatively, as he negotiated his several layers of clothing into something more comfortable. “And my ears.”

Callum huffed, and reached out to try to pull his hat down a bit further. Sadly, Ezran’s hair was just too immense, and the hat remained stubbornly distant from his ears. “Pull up your scarf.” He advised, and then followed his own advice.

“I feel like some sort of…bandit, or burglar, or something.” Ez declared, after he’d pulled his scarf up far enough to obscure most of his face. “You know, wearing a mask to hide who I am from the city guards.”

He considered that from behind his own scarf-mask. “Well, I guess we did steal a dragon egg. Or…steal it back, I guess, since it was already stolen.” He said, and thought further. “And I stole Claudia’s primal stone. And we all stole our own stuff from the Banther Lodge?”

“We stole the boat from the Banther Lodge too.” Ezran reminded him, eyes now sparking with a familiar sort of mischievous delight. “…Callum, I think we’re pirates now.”

“…What, for stealing one little boat?” He asked, amused.

“Pirates steal boats.” Ez decreed, with a firm nod. “And pirates are way cooler than bandits. So even though we only stole one boat, we can be pirates instead of bandits.”

Callum considered it. “Your logic is very convincing.” He decided after a second, lips twitching, and then wilfully poked his brother into prognosticating. “What would our pirate ship be like?”

Ezran, needing very little prompting for that sort of thing, spent the next ten minutes lovingly describing their vessel of dire piracy, as well as a few anecdotes from its legendary travels.

It would be called the Storm Dragon, or the Thundersnow, or the Galewing; Ezran couldn’t seem to decide on a name, and kept calling it by a different one at multiple points throughout the telling. Ezran had decided that the figurehead would be carved in the shape of a dragon’s head, obviously, and that the sails would be dark blue, and that probably Azymondias would be with them (hatched and grown huge, of course) so he could just ruin anyone who tried to sink their ship, so they’d obviously be an immortal scourge of the Xadian seas. Except they’d be a friendly scourge. Ezran wasn’t entirely clear on how one was to be both a scourge and friendly, but he sounded exceptionally sure of himself even so.

He was in the middle of detailing how he would locate and befriend a legendary Deep-Sleeper when Rayla returned, hauling herself precariously from the narrow ledge with a large bundle of branches tied to her back with the rope.

“I’m back,” She announced, somewhat redundantly, as she staggered exhaustedly towards them and shrugged off her makeshift rope-backpack with enormous relief. He eyed her, a little alarmed at how stiff and hunched-in her posture was, and at how much she was shivering. She brushed a gratuitous coating of snow from her cloak and hat, her movements almost clumsy. “You would not believe how cold it is out there.”

“Well, we were in it not that long ago.” Callum reminded her, at the same time as he cast a worried glance over her. He paused for a moment, then extricated himself from the sleeping-bag-tent, goosebumps raising on his skin as he abruptly became colder. He hadn’t quite realised how much it had helped to sit inside the tent layers like that, but now…determinedly, he stood and approached her, giving her a more detailed once-over for signs of injury. Or, well. New injury, at least. Her left arm remained very thoroughly injured, after all. “…You alright?” He asked, after a moment, hesitating with the urge to reach out.

She looked at him from beneath her hat, eyes settling on his. She blinked, shivered, then raised her hands to pull her scarf down from where she – like them – had been wearing it as a sort-of lower face mask. She looked a great deal colder with her face properly visible, the skin flushed unhappily from the chill, mottled and almost purplish in places. “…I’m cold.” She answered, succinctly. “Very, very cold.”

“Maybe you should go rest for a bit?” he suggested, finally conceding to the impulse to reach out, and undoing the fastening at the front of her cloak. The fur of the thing was now unpleasantly wet from melted snow, and the outer parts had actually frozen into a stiff, icy coating. “You can go sit in the…er…tent? And I’ll try to get the fire started.”

Her eyes lingered on his for long enough that he squirmed, looking down to focus on helping her out of the heavy cloak. Her expression, though tired, was softly grateful. “…Thanks.” She said, after a moment, and gladly shrugged her shoulders from the cloak when he moved to take it. She shivered again, presumably from losing the extra layer, her arms hugging reflexively around her sides. “It’ll be a pain to start,” She warned him, as she stumbled over to the pseudo-tent. She looked like she’d been planning on saying more, but became distracted with trying to negotiate her way out of her boots instead. Her fingers seemed uncommonly clumsy; even the ones on her right hand.

He made a neutral sort of ‘hmm´ at that, laying out her cloak on top of the tent-fabric where Ezran was still sat. Somewhere in there, Bait was glowing, but it was barely visible beyond the two layers of thick textile. Somewhere in there, the egg was glowing, and that was very decidedly visible. It was ridiculously bright. “Well, it’s better than no fire, I guess.” He reasoned, and went to gather some rocks to make a respectable fire-border. He elected to put the fire towards the right of their sheltered cliff-dent, not too close to the edge, but not far in either. With luck that would keep it out of the wind, but also let the smoke flow out properly.

Callum reflected, for a moment, on how even a week ago he’d have known absolutely nothing about proper campfire placement. It was a little weird to think about. We’ve come a long way, he thought, distractedly, and glanced briefly out into the storm. It was so stark and white with the snow that, despite knowing that there was an entire mountain range out there, he couldn’t see any of it. Not even the vaguest silhouette of another mountain was visible. It was oddly unnerving; as though there was nothing left in the world except them and the storm.

Finally, with the border done, he looked at the firewood. He paused. “I see why you said this is going to be hard to start.” He said, ruefully. Most of it looked decidedly live, and not only that, but damp with snow and ice. It did not provide the greatest of conditions for fire-starting.

Rayla grimaced. “Yeah, I pretty much just hacked apart the closest trees.” She admitted, which explained the discs of what looked like actual tree trunk that were mixed in with the branches. “Didn’t want to stay out longer than necessary.”

“I don’t blame you.” He said, with feeling, stealing a glance out at the howling storm. “Still. This is going to smell interesting.” Live branches, he’d learned, tended to stink and smoke a whole lot when you burned them. He squinted. “…If I can actually manage to start it, anyway.” After a pause, he started going through for the most dead-looking branches, or failing those, the driest.

It took a fair bit of negotiating, but eventually judicial use of the flint coaxed a few reluctant embers into the kindling. They sputtered alarmingly in the cold wind, so Callum positioned himself between the fire and the storm, facing towards the others, and sheltered the tiny flames as they grew. Rayla, he noted, had huddled so far into their tent-thing that only the top of her face and her horns were visible, eyes peering out to watch his progress. She didn’t say anything, but she was plainly watching. It made his skin prickle a little. He wondered what she was thinking.

After a moment, he averted his eyes and set to work peeling pine needles off the rest of the firewood. They were useful, after all, and the branches would burn easier without them. When he’d finished stripping one twig, he dropped it in, pausing with his fingers over the fire. Even this small, the heat of the fire was enough to be felt, and his hands started to sear with the painful ache of too-cold limbs finally exposed to warmth. He winced, but carried on, peeling pine needles from the branches as heat returned painfully to his fingers.

Around five minutes later, the flames had grown enough that he didn’t think them to be in immediate danger of going out if he left them, so he shifted aside and beckoned. “You should come over.” He said, to Rayla and Ez, both of whom were ensconced wordlessly in the dubious warmth of the tent-layers. “The fire’s getting pretty hot.”

Rayla and Ezran exchanged a glance.

“We should probably move.” Rayla said to Ezran, almost conversationally, as they huddled motionless within the covers. “The fire’s there. It’ll be warmer.”

“But I don’t want to move.” Ezran expressed, and from the look on Rayla’s face, she rather agreed with the sentiment. “We just got feeling almost comfy and warm….”

“…It’ll be warmer by the fire.” She reasoned, in the tones of someone trying to convince themself more than the other person. “Even if it will be completely horrible to get out from under the covers.”

Ez made a small, pathetic sound at this, and neither he nor Rayla moved.

Callum, watching this, rolled his eyes. “You could just shuffle the whole…tent-thing….over by the fire, you know.” He pointed out, fingers working a little more nimbly at the needle-stripping now that there was a little heat in them. “You don’t have to get out.”

Both of them stared at him like he’d just unveiled the secrets of the universe. “Oh, that’s a good idea.” Ezran recognised, immediately won over by the notion, but Rayla seemed less convinced. She looked slowly between the fire and the tent-covers, looking phenomenally conflicted.

“This is flammable, though.” She said, very plainly warring with herself, or possibly her training.

“Okay, sure, it’s not exactly the best camping practice to bring something important and flammable too close to a campfire.” He agreed, because Rayla had certainly mentioned that once or twice before, with the sort of practiced conviction that suggested she’d had it drummed into her head over the course of several years. “But, a counterpoint:” He turned, and gestured very emphatically to the storm behind them. The howling, blinding, exceptionally cold storm. Helpfully, the sky chose that moment to let loose a muffled rumble of thunder. “Do you really care about campsite guidelines now?”

Rayla stared at the fire like a starving woman would stare at food. “…No.” She admitted, glumly, after a second. “No, I do not.” She sighed, and grabbed handfuls of tent-cover, sitting up in preparation to start shuffling the whole lot forwards. “I suppose it’ll be hard for us to catch fire without noticing, at least.”

“I think those camping guidelines are probably mostly about leaving things near fires without watching them.” Ez reasoned. “We’ll just keep an eye on it! It’ll be fine.”

She grumbled something mostly incomprehensible except for ‘would kill me’, then without further ado, she and Ezran conducted the whole ungainly affair of shuffling themselves out of the back of their alcove towards the fire. Callum had to hastily move his pile of pine needles out of the way to avoid getting them scattered everywhere.

The expressions of utter, gut-wrenching bliss on their faces as they drew close to the heat of the fire…well, it made Callum realise that he’d warmed up more than he’d realised, sitting there. Either that, or the two of them had been getting colder, even huddled together under those covers. It was something of a worrying thought. He glanced at their pile of firewood, and tried to judge how long it would last. They’d never needed a campfire to stave off terrible cold before, and had always left their fires to burn out overnight. But if the fire was necessary to keep them warm in the middle of this storm…

“I’ll need to get more.” Rayla said, glumly, as if she’d read his mind. He jolted a little, and saw that she’d followed his gaze to the firewood. “Before it starts getting dark. We’ll need enough to last the night, or we’ll freeze.”

Callum stared at her, appalled, and then looked out to the storm. It remained imposing. “You’re going to go out again in that?”

“I have to, Callum.” She returned, with a touch of asperity. “If you think it’s cold now, you just wait ‘till the sun goes down. We need to keep this fire burning all night – we won’t survive otherwise.”

He shut up quickly at that, looking away as his fists clenched. It was strange, the pang of fear her words produced in him. Despite everything, despite the difficulty they’d faced to even get here…the idea that the cold could easily kill them was unfamiliar and daunting. It was never a threat he or Ezran had faced before. They’d always been so lucky…

A sigh, and she shuffled a little closer, the movement producing a leathery rustle of the tent layers against themselves. Her hand – her good hand – settled on his shoulder. “Sorry.” She offered, quietly, though he wasn’t entirely sure what she was apologising for. She was right, after all. “…We’ll be fine as long as we have the fire.”

He looked down at it, the rapid flutter of the flames as mesmerising as ever. “…Will we have to stay up all night, to make sure it doesn’t go out?” He wondered, and Rayla grimaced.

“We’ll need to post a fire-watch.” She admitted, and withdrew her hand to glance between him and Ezran. “One of us needs to be awake to make sure the fire stays lit. If we lose the fire, we might be too cold to move by the time we wake up to start another one.”

The two of them were silent for several seconds at that. Callum could tell Ezran was as daunted by the danger as he was. It was so…new, and bewildering, to have to worry about something like this. “So, are we going to take it in turns?” Ez offered, tentative. “Like guards do? Taking it in shifts?”

Rayla eyed them. “…I’d try to take the whole watch myself, but…”

“Yeah, no.” Callum told her, at once. His arms folded, and he levelled her with his best stern look. Rayla was absolutely not going to stay up all night in a storm like this when she should be resting as much as possible, on account of her horrible injuries.

Her lips twisted with some complicated emotion. “Yeah, thought as much.” She said, wryly, seeming torn between displeasure and affection. “Well…whether we split it two ways or three depends on if you think you can stay awake, Ez.” She said, turning her attention to his brother. “And be honest. If you fall asleep on the job and the fire goes out, it won’t end well for us.”

Ezran opened his mouth with reflexive affront, looking seconds away from saying that he absolutely could stay awake, thank you very much. Then he stopped, apparently a little nonplussed, and sat silent for a few seconds to actually consider it. “…Normally, I think it could be a problem. Staying awake, I mean.” He admitted, sullenly. “But at the moment I think it’ll be okay. Because…well.” He looked down at the covers – or, Callum realised, at the brilliant light spilling out from under the covers. “Because…Zym.”

Callum stared. “What about Zym?”

His brother waved, in a dithering sort of motion. “….The storm?” He attempted, haltingly. “It’s just…it’s making him so awake, compared to normal. It’s really hard to ignore.” He shook his head. “Actually, I think I might find it pretty hard to get to sleep tonight in the first place. And if the storm gets any closer…”

“It will.” Rayla said, with certainty. “It’s not heading right over us, I think, but close enough.” She squinted at the sky. “Might take a while, though.”

Both of them turned their eyes to her. “How can you tell?” Callum asked, fascinated, and she made a complicated face at them.

“…Wind direction?” She tried, looking decidedly uncertain how to explain it. “And the thunder. You can tell how far away lightning is striking by counting how long after the lightning-flash it is ‘till you hear the thunder.” She observed their expressions, and rolled her eyes. “It’s not magic, you know. Just training.”

“Well, it kind of is. Being a storm, and all. Sky magic.” He reasoned, and she rolled her eyes at him.

“You know what I mean.”

“I think you’re right, though.” Ezran said, thoughtfully, and from the shifting of the light under the covers, Callum thought he’d pulled the egg into his lap. “Zym can feel the storm-magic getting…denser? Like it’s getting closer. It’s weird.”

Rayla very clearly wasn’t certain what to say to that. “…Glad to have the unhatched Dragon Prince agree with me, I suppose.” She settled on, in the end, then shook her head. “So. If you think you’ll be able to keep awake…” She paused, narrowing her eyes. “And if you think it’ll be harder to sleep the closer the storm gets…you should take the last watch, Ezran. You’ll take first, Callum, and I’ll have the mid-watch.”

Callum shrugged. “Sounds good?” He offered, then paused. “…How do I know when to wake you?”

“A while after the Moon’s past its high point.” She answered, near automatically, and that didn’t help at all.

He pointed at the storm. “I don’t know about you, Rayla, but I can’t exactly see the moon through that.” He reminded her, and she stopped short, staring at him with a momentary bewilderment that transformed her entire face.

“…right. Humans. Can’t feel the Moon moving.” She muttered, evidently to herself, and that was interesting. He was about to ask her about it when she shook her head and spoke again. “In that case, just….make a rough guess at how long ‘three hours after nightfall’ feels like. Judge it by how long pieces of wood take to burn or something.” At his expression, she scowled at him, and said defensively “It’s not like I know how you’re supposed to tell time without the Moon there to judge by.”

“…You can feel the moon moving, then?” He took the opportunity to ask. “Like, even when you can’t see it?”

Rayla gave him the increasingly-familiar ‘you’re asking about something so obvious I’m not entirely sure whether you’re joking or not’ look. “Of course?” She offered, in the end.

“Cool.” Was Ezran’s response to that. “Where is it now?”

Without any hesitation whatsoever, she turned and pointed towards a section of their rocky shelter, close to its uneven floor. “That way.” She said, entirely certain of the answer, and rolled her eyes at the fascinated looks they both cast her way. “It’s nothing special. Any Moonshadow elf could tell you where the Moon is.”

“…Do other types of elf have things like that?” Callum wondered, after an intrigued moment of thought. “Like, er, do the Sun elves always know where the sun is?”

Rayla shrugged. “Haven’t really talked to any Sunfire elves, but I assume so.” She paused, and added “I know Skywing elves can tell when bad weather’s coming in, though. Got a sense for the winds or something, I suppose.”

“Elves all have such interesting names.” Ezran mused, looking up at her from close range, obviously curious. “What are the other kinds called?”

She sent him that ‘are-you-having-me-on’ look again, but after a second or two of squinting apparently decided he was serious. “…Earthblood, Tidebound, and Startouch.” She informed him, looking gently exasperated with their abject lack of Xadian knowledge. “I don’t really know much about the other kinds of elf, though. I just grew up with other Moonshadows.”

“You knew about Skywing elves being able to sense bad weather, though.” Callum pointed out after a second, having determinedly committed all the race-names to memory.

“Well, yeah.” Rayla frowned momentarily. “I’ve talked to Skywing elves, though. My village trades with the nomads in the desert, sometimes. There aren’t any Sunfire or Earthblood villages anywhere near, and Tidebound…” She snorted. “As if.” She didn’t even mention Startouch elves, he noticed.

Callum held quiet for several moments as he thought. It seemed like Xadia was a lot more segregated than he’d assumed. People in Katolis seemed to have this idea that all of the elf types lived together in huge, prosperous cities ruled over by dragons…but apparently, they all mostly kept to themselves. It was kind of weird. “You live near a desert?” he asked, eventually, because that was probably the easiest question to ask.

“There are nomads in the desert?” Ezran pressed further, and Rayla started to look vaguely daunted by all the questioning.

“Sort of, and yes.” She answered, vaguely, before extricating herself from the tent-covers. “But enough interrogating me. I should be warm enough now to go on another trip out, anyway.” She went to inspect her heavy cloak, and grimaced a little at its condition. It was still absolutely sodden. “…I think I’ll be better off without that.” She decided, and headed for where she’d laid the rope-harness she’d carried the firewood in.

“…You can take my rain cloak instead.” Callum offered, helpfully, even though he wanted to tell her to stay in shelter, to not risk going out into the storm... “It’s not that warm, but it's more waterproof than furs.”

She blinked, and inspected him for a moment. Eventually, she nodded. “I’ll do that.” She accepted, and went for his bag. “Thanks.” She hesitated as she shrugged on the cloak and fastened it one-handed at the front, pulling the hood up over her horns. It took a few seconds, but eventually, she spoke. “…If you can, there’s work that needs doing, while I’m gone?” She said at last, glancing at Ezran with a light frown. “Those birds I caught – they’ll need plucking.”

Ezran very deliberately looked down at the egg, and did not react. Callum couldn’t help but notice that, remembering the way his brother had manifestly felt the demise of the unlucky doves. That was a lot more unsettling, now that his mind was less numb with cold. “…Yeah, I can do that.” Callum said determinedly, because – because if she was going to be going out into a blizzard, he could certainly pull the feathers off of some birds.

For a second, Rayla looked relieved at that. Then she shook her head. “Alright. I’d best get going.” She said, and pulled on the straps of the wood-carrying rope harness she’d rigged. “I’ll be back in…” She waved. “A while.”

Predictably, the words sent anxiety spearing through his gut. He had to close his eyes to catch his breath for a second. “Don’t suppose you could be more specific?” He asked dryly, as if the thought of not being able to tell if she’d been gone too long hadn’t just gripped him by the throat and squeezed.

She gave him a long look. “Well, I’d tell you ‘half an hour’,” She said, equally dry. “But as we’ve already learned…humans can’t judge time by the Moon moving.”

He wondered if it was weird to feel inadequate for not having an inborn magical moon-power. “…Right.” He managed, after a moment. “Wish we had an hourglass, or something.”

“We can add it to the list of things I should have stolen from your lodge, I guess.” Rayla shrugged. “Write it in under ‘cutlery’ and ‘bowls’.” She checked her straps, checked her blades, and then nodded to herself. A second later, she was stepping out towards the ledge, towards the storm-

He had a hand raised involuntarily in her direction before he could blink, an unthinking attempt to stop her, to pull her back – but he swallowed, and forced the hand back down. “Come back soon.” Was what he said in the end, and she shot him an inscrutable look. She’d clearly seen his aborted attempt to reach out.

A second lingered with her eyes on him, and then her expression softened. Just a little, but it was there. “I’ll be fine.” She promised, and then turned away, and…left. She just…left, stepping out of the meagre shelter where the wind pulled at her cloak and the snow obscured the edges of her, and then – out along the edge, where the snowstorm swallowed her in seconds.

Callum turned to Ezran then, not sure if he was looking for reassurance or…just sort of expecting that his brother would have some sort of comment for this situation. He didn’t, though. Ezran’s eyes were fixed on the egg, which he’d withdrawn just enough that Callum could see his fingers smoothing over its shell. He hesitated. “…Ez?” He asked, tentative, and his brother’s eyes snapped up to him as though he’d been awoken from a dream.

“Um, yeah?” He said, a little awkwardly, and his eyes drew back to the egg as if he couldn’t look away.

“…Is something wrong?” He asked, after a panicked moment of his gut absolutely not knowing how to deal with Rayla being out in the storm and something being wrong with his brother-

“No, I’m fine.” Ezran answered unconvincingly, and after a furtive glance at him, seemed to realise that that wouldn’t work. In the end he sighed, and looked down at the egg again. “It’s just…um. We can….sort of, feel her a bit?”

Callum stared uncomprehendingly.

“Rayla.” He clarified, fingers smoothing over the shell. “She’s – there’s so much Sky magic out there. And she’s moving through it, and we can sort of…feel her moving through it. She’s getting a little too far away, though.” He frowned. “It’s kind of tricky to follow her. Like…trying to catch smoke. Or grab water, maybe.”

He stared for several moments longer. “…That’s weird.” Callum concluded, eventually. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’s also pretty awesome that you and a baby dragon can…feel through magic like that, but – weird.”

Ezran’s lips twisted with a strange humour. “Yeah, pretty much.” He agreed, eyes going half-lidded and unfocused. “I don’t think I can follow her any further, though. It’s…I’m not used to this.” His brow furrowed. “It almost feels like what me and Zym did when we….reached out, and loosened her binding. It’s so…” He couldn’t seem to find the words.

“Tricky?” Callum suggested.

“Yeah.” He shrugged. “Maybe we’ll practice while she’s gone. It’ll give us something to do while you…work on dinner, I guess.”

“Er. Right.” He agreed, a little thrown, and spent a few seconds inspecting his brother for any sign of upset. He was very plainly noticed.

Ezran’s shoulders hunched. “You can stop doing that, you know.” He said, with a bit of an edge to his voice. “Watching me like you think I’m gonna have a breakdown every time we talk about meat.”

“Er.” Callum said again, because there was no graceful way to say ‘actually that’s exactly what I’m worried about’.

His brother sighed in a familiar, annoyed sort of way, and averted his eyes. “I don’t like thinking about dead animals.” He said, shortly. “And I really don’t like feeling them die. But…we have to eat, and – and those birds are the only food we’ve got, and I’m hungry.” He sounded, for a moment, upset and plaintive – like the hunger was really bothering him – and Callum immediately felt like the biggest failure of an older brother in the world. “I can deal with it. You don’t have to treat me like a baby.”

Callum’s first thought was ‘actually, I’m treating you like my little brother who I care about and want to be happy’. Then he decided that sounded good enough, so he said “Mostly I’m just treating you like my little brother, who I care about, and want to be happy.”

Ezran sighed again, but it sounded more tolerant this time. He rolled his eyes. “I know.” He said, half-fond and half-exasperated. “You big dumb brother.”

He squinted at him, hearing more than a hint of Rayla in those words. “What, you’re picking up insults from Rayla now?” He asked, and finally shuffled over to their bags to go for the towel-wrapped corpses of the birds.

His brother made a rude noise. “’S not an insult, when she says it.” He said, with all due certainty, eyes lingering in Callum’s direction for just long enough to glance at the strange, twisted shape of a dead dove. “She’s just weird and doesn’t know how to use normal nicknames.” He thought for a second, and continued as though quoting someone. “Or terms of endearment, maybe.”

Callum coughed a little, surprised, and then felt heat prickle at the back of his neck. And possibly at his cheeks as well. “Er. I guess.” He admitted, because there really wasn’t any feel of an insult to the way she called him a ‘dumb human’. He uncovered both doves and set them aside, noticing with a bit of a grimace that they both seemed to have frozen uncomfortably solid. He wondered how you were supposed to defrost entire birds. “…So, you’re picking up Rayla’s nicknames now?”

Ezran shrugged cheerfully. “Well, she is my ‘sister’.” He said, removing his fingers from the egg to do the air quotes. “So why not.”

He considered that, and shrugged. “Fair enough.” He acceptded, and moved a while away from the campfire to start plucking. With the distance, he immediately started feeling colder, and it didn’t help that the doves were cold enough to chill his hands even through the two layers of gloves – but he got to work anyway. It went easier than it had with the goose. The feathers were smaller, and less viciously entrenched. Particularly the wing feathers. It was still a little disturbing to look at the motionless, lifeless faces of the dead birds, though. Their eyes were open, gone sort of cloudy, and it was unsettling to look at.

Callum’s hands were numb with cold by the time he finished, and the wind was tossing feather-down across the camp. He watched a cluster of it catch on the rock in one corner of their crevice, struck by the similarity of its colour to the snow further out in the storm, then sighed and returned to the fireside. He placed the plucked birds under the towel they’d been carried in, and settled in to warm himself by the fire again. It was startling, how much of a chill he’d managed to pick up merely by sitting a couple of metres away from the fire.

For a second…he couldn’t help but think about how cold Rayla must be, out in the storm, perilously close from any fire. He tried not to dwell on the thought, but it had a way of sticking.

“Don’t suppose you’ve had any luck with your weird dragon-storm-sensing thing?” He asked his brother, whose eyes were closed, arms settled around eggshell in a now-familiar way.

Those eyes opened a little. “Kinda. I’ve been practicing…reaching out? It’s weird.” He shrugged. “The stronger the storm gets, the easier it is. But Rayla’s still too far away for me to feel her.”

He determinedly didn’t focus on that. His gut clenched anyway. How long had it been? It certainly felt like half an hour…or longer… “I wonder if you’ll be able to do this when there’s not a storm?” He said, instead. “Then you could feel ambushes coming a mile away.”

Ezran rolled his eyes. “It’s more like, I dunno, fifty feet away. Or something. I can’t really tell how far out I can feel this stuff.” He shrugged, looking abruptly a bit uncomfortable. “It’s…um, well, I can find animals, though. Animals are everywhere. So if we need to…I know where to find food.”

That was somehow reassuring and disturbing at the same time. “…Good to know?” He settled on, eventually, and cast his eyes about looking for something to do. In the end, he nursed the fire a little, and then settled in to pluck pine needles from branches, going so far as to remove his gloves to make it easier. He was beginning to form a very tidy pile of needles in one of the jars. Eventually, Ezran returned to his…weird empathy powers, and they worked mostly in silence. The quiet served to emphasise the howling bluster of the storm, in a constant backdrop to every passing second.

And still, Rayla didn’t return. It became long enough that Callum grew genuinely worried, sneaking glances back along the precipice several times a minute to check for any sign of her, each time having to quash the sparks of panic that arose when she still wasn’t there. The blizzard raging beyond their shelter seemed in full-force, now, the snowflakes larger than the palm of his hand, and so thick that the sky might as well have been a solid wall of increasingly-dim white.

It was getting later….and colder. Even next to the fire, it was cold. He worried a great deal about what it must be like for Rayla, out there in the thick of it.

“She’s been gone kind of a long time.” Ezran spoke, after a while, when they’d been quiet for long enough that their worries lingered palpably in the air between them. “Do you think she’s okay?”

“…I’m sure she’s fine, Ezran.” Callum said, determinedly, refusing to consider any alternative. “She knows what she’s doing. She won’t let a bit of snow stop her.”

Ezran nodded, first slowly and then a little more emphatically. “…Yeah. Yeah, she’s fine.” He said, forcefully cheerful, and glanced at the fire. “Do you think we should try to have some stuff ready for her when she comes back? So she can warm up?”

Callum blinked, and turned to look at him more fully. “Like what?”

“Like…warming up a spare sweater by the fire? Or making tea?”

“We don’t exactly have any tea leaves with us, Ez.” Callum said, amused. “But….you know, there’s tons of pine needles.” Ezran made a face, but didn’t object, so Callum went for the jar he’d been keeping the things in. “You want to go get some snow for us to melt?” His brother sighed, and then reluctantly set the egg down to peel himself from the covers.

In short order, they had a small pile of fresh snow (gathered from the less-sheltered edge of their ledge) piled into the iron pot, and were peering at it in concern. “Do you think it’s okay that we’re using a metal thing in the camp?” Ez spoke, peering at it. “What if it gets hit by lightning?”

“We’re under a rock ceiling, with half a mountain on top of us.” He reasoned, after a moment. “I bet lightning can’t get us through there.”

“Then why did Rayla make us put all the metal stuff over there?”

That stumped him for a second. “….Maybe if the lightning comes from that way?” He suggested, lamely, pointing out at the storm. His brother looked unconvinced. “I don’t know, we’ll have to ask her when she gets back.” He said in the end. “For now, let’s just boil some water and assume the lightning probably isn’t close enough to hit us yet, I guess.”

“Yeah.” Ez nodded, a little distractedly, and sat by him beside fire while they watched water boiling. It was not very exciting. After a while, he added in some pine leaves, and the steam arising from the pot became steadily more aromatic. This was also not very exciting. None of it was a sufficient distraction from the fact that Rayla still hadn’t returned.

It had been so long. Way longer than half an hour, surely. It wasn’t like he had any way to judge the time, but it had to have been longer. Maybe even twice as long. Or more. She’d been gone too long. How long was too long to be out in a storm? He had no idea. He really had no idea. He didn’t know anything about – mountain survival, or storms, or how dangerous cold was. He really didn’t know how long was dangerous, how long was too long to be out there – he didn’t know anything. Once again, he was just…completely useless.

What were they supposed to do if she didn’t come back? He’d…have to go looking for her. He didn’t know how he’d safely get across that ledge, but – he’d have to try. It wasn’t like he could just…leave her out there, it just – he couldn’t. When it had been too long…he’d have to go. But…how long until it was too long? How long until he couldn’t sit around any longer? How much longer should he wait?

And then-

Ezran sat suddenly bolt-upright, as though he’d been prodded with a hot poker. He blinked, rapidly, and then his eyes slipped closed. “Oh.” He said, with palpable relief. “I – either that’s Rayla, or it’s some other person-shaped thing coming closer. She’s nearly back.”

Callum dropped his pine branch immediately, head whipping around to stare at the precipitous approach as though she’d appear that very second. She didn’t, of course. However far into the storm Azymondias – and by proxy, Ezran – could feel…it was far enough to give them a fair bit of advance warning.

Either that, or she was moving very, very slowly. The thought made his expression tighten, and he watched the edge anxiously for any sign of her. Ezran did, too, opening his eyes to watch with more concrete senses than whatever he’d been practicing with for the last while.

Finally, finally, she came into view. Her silhouette broke through the featureless white, indistinct and vague at first, then more defined as she approached. She made for a hunched and strangely ungainly shape emerging from that storm; as though she were shuffling more than she was walking. And then finally she was in full view, turning into the shelter of their ledge with palpable relief, looking utterly exhausted and perilously cold. She seemed so focused on walking that she didn’t even notice them staring at her.

It only took a second for Callum to drop everything and rush towards her. Ezran was only a second behind him. “Rayla,” His voice was almost an exclamation, torn half-ways between utter relief and terrible anxiety. She looked up as they approached, but strangely sluggishly, her eyes tired and the visible skin of her face purple with cold.

“Callum.” She mumbled at him, the words muffled through the red scarf she’d pulled up over her mouth and nose. Her hat was pulled down over her forehead, and only the part of her face on level with her eyes was exposed. “…Took a bit longer than half an hour, I suppose. Sorry.”

He reached her and came to a stop, hands raising on instinct to – to check on her? To see if she was okay? He wasn’t exactly thinking about it. He lifted his fingers to her face and winced at how terribly cold it was to the touch. “You’re freezing.” He found himself saying, dismayed, and was tugging her by the hand towards the fire before he even knew what he was doing. “Why did you stay out so long?”

“…Rabbit.” She answered, stumbling after him with an uncharacteristic gracelessness. “Saw it hiding – thought I could catch it…” She blinked, slowly, and sighed. “Got a bit turned around in the storm. Won’t be making that mistake again.”

“Are you okay?” Ezran asked, anxiously, drawing close enough to her that his expression went pinched and – he started shivering, just for a second, as if his body had forgotten what its own temperature was. “You’re so cold, it’s making me feel cold.”

“…I’m a tad chilly.” Rayla said, vaguely, and winced a little as Callum finally pulled her in range of the fire. “I’ll be fine, though, you can stop fussing.”

Ezran stared at her. He did not seem especially convinced.

“Uh-huh.” Callum said, sceptically. He’d have been far more credulous if not for how clumsy she seemed and how weird her voice was. “Yeah. Sure. We’ll just pretend that you’re not – not hypothermic, and weren’t just out in the middle or a horrible mountain storm for most of an hour, yeah, that sounds great-“ His voice, entirely against his will, became more and more shaky the longer he spoke, his breath starting to hitch a little, and he had to stop for a second to close his eyes and breathe.

When he opened them again, Rayla was staring at him with that strange expression again. Bewildered, and a little uncertain. “…I’m probably not hypothermic.” She offered, after a moment. “Or if I am, it’s pretty mild.”

“Oh, it’s only mild hypothermia! Well that’s just fine, then!” He said acerbically, and in the next moment found that the jitter in his breath had abruptly filled the rest of his body, an anxious energy propelling him into motion. His fingers went for the ropes of her firewood harness, untying the knots as she’d apparently not thought of doing, swiftly and carelessly enough that the wood all fell to the stone floor behind them with an awful clatter. She looked down at him in what seemed like surprise, as muffled beneath that distant tiredness as all of her expressions were at the moment. “Damn it, Rayla.” He muttered to her, expression tightening at the sheer chill of her left hand when he pulled the gloves off of it.

“…I’m fine?” She attempted again, still looking at him with that strange, startled expression. He didn’t answer, and instead pressed her hand between his without the slightest ounce of self-consciousness; he was too rattled for that. He pulled her to the other side of the fire, muttering agitatedly beneath his breath the whole time, though he had no idea what he was saying. In the next moment, the merest second after he’d thought of it, he released her to undo the clasp on his cloak and pull it roughly off of his shoulders, immediately setting to fussing over her own clothing.

“You can – I’ll just-“ he muttered, disjointedly, as he divested her of the thin rain-proof travel cloak, pulling the hood from her along with it. It was, despite everything, wet and half-stiff with ice. “You should wear mine. It’s not wet, and I’ve been sitting by the fire, it should be warm-“

“Callum-“ She tried, but he was far too fixated on getting her warm and safe and – and he tugged the fur cloak around her shoulders, pulling it tightly, her hair warping strangely under the pressure in a way hair shouldn’t. He fastened the clasp at her front before he investigated, pulling a section of her hair free from the fluffy collar of the cloak, and stared in disbelief.

“Your hair froze.” He told her, stridently, holding the frigid end of one long strand up so she should see. Tentatively, she lifted her still-gloved hand and took it. It was, indeed, actually iced-over at the ends – with the colour of her hair, it looked more like a thin sheet of ice than anything.

She twisted her fingers, experimentally, and the end piece snapped off. She was left holding around an inch of very icy hair. “…That’s…” She attempted, a little weakly. “Weird.”

“’Weird’.” Callum repeated, off into his own agitation again, fingers shaking with frenetic energy. He snatched at her hand and pulled the gloves from that, too. It wasn’t quite as horribly cold and discoloured as the bound one, but it was – it was still not good, her fingertips were icy, the skin was mottled- “’Weird’, she says, ‘weird’-“

“Callum-“ She attempted again, still without success, because Callum was still on a mission. He clamped that hand briefly between his own, too, to chase at least a little of the chill away, and then took her by the shoulders and walked her over to the layers of tent arrayed by the fire.

“Get in the tent.” He told her, mind whirling through a dozen different things he should be doing. “It’ll be warmer – maybe you should take your boots off? I don’t know how cold your feet are – maybe we should put some rocks in the fire, then put them in there with you so you heat up quicker-“

“Callum,” His name came again, but this time it was Ezran, accompanied by a small hand at his arm. He started, then looked down. His brother was looking up at him, solemn but sympathetic. “It’s okay. She’s fine. Breathe.”

He held still for several moments, mind gone abruptly blank. Then, very slowly, he exhaled, tension slipping in jerky gradations from his shoulders as he forced some of the anxious, agitated energy away. It left him feeling terribly drained. “…Right.” He said, very quietly, and breathed, and exhaled again, and closed his eyes. When he finally looked back at Rayla again, he managed to be a little steadier about the whole thing. “I need you to get into those tent layers and warm up.” he told her, as evenly as he could manage, which wasn’t very. “And – I’ve already got some tea brewing, so you can have some of that, and that’ll help too, and….” He closed his eyes again. Breathed. “It’s fine.” He said, quietly again, more to himself than anyone, and shuffled away to stoop by the fire.

He saw her wavering uncertainly, out of the corner of his eye – but he just stirred the pot, breathing carefully, shoring himself against the taste of acid in his throat and the way that stress kept trying to rise from its hot pit in his chest into a burst of hysteria.

Callum tried to focus on the water, but was entirely unable to remove his attention from Rayla. So he was perfectly aware of her shuffling closer, and lifting one frigid hand to his shoulder.

“Callum…” She said, uncertainly. “I’m…sorry I was gone so long?”

He felt his shoulder tense under her hand, and then he slumped. He looked up at her, then reached up for her hand, tugging her down until she was beside him at the fireside. “Damn it, Rayla.” He said again, quietly. “I – we – I was so worried.” She didn’t seem to know what to say to that, so he shook his head. “Just…get warm? Please?” A little anxiously, he reached out and adjusted the cloak around her shoulders, as if that would instantly fix the issue. It didn’t, of course. She was still pale-faced and shivering.

“…I am, trust me.” She said, just a little wryly, and turned her face to stare into the flames. “Being this close to the fire already feels too warm.” She pulled the scarf down from her face, settling it back around her neck, looking so horribly tired that he wouldn’t have been surprised if she fell asleep on the spot.

He remembered the way heat had hurt, earlier, when he was warming his hands up. “…Well, as long as you’re not getting any colder.” He conceded, reluctantly, and didn’t try to chase her into the tent layers. He did fret at her until she removed the boots, though, and set her feet in their thick socks by the fire to warm up.

“You got a lot of wood this time, Rayla.” Ezran remarked, and Callum looked up to see he’d been spending his time productively, arranging the wood into neat piles further from the campfire. And…well, Callum hadn’t at all paid attention to the firewood beyond getting it off of Rayla’s back, but Ez was right. There was a lot of it. Way more than the first trip had yielded. Even if most of it looked like it had come from Rayla systematically dismembering an entire tree. There were a lot of discs of tree-trunk there.

“I did pretty much just cut down a whole tree.” Rayla admitted, voice still a little slow and sluggish-sounding. “Seemed easiest. And fastest.” She shrugged, tiredly. “And I can carry a lot at the moment. Still feeling stronger than I should be.”

He wasn’t entirely sure what to say to that. “Good?” he settled on. “I mean, it’s not like it’s not useful at times like this, so…” He shrugged, and exhaled another somewhat-shaky breath. “But you still don’t know why you’re stronger than you should be?”

“It’s Last Quarter.” Rayla said, a little absently, shuffling close enough to the fire that it would probably hurt even if she wasn’t fresh from a blizzard. She didn’t show any sign of being in pain, though; he supposed her pain tolerance had probably undergone a lot of training recently. “Almost Waning Crescent. I should definitely be feeling weaker. But I’m not. It’s…” The dark fingers of her left hand curled stiffly over the heat-haze from the flames. “Weird.”

“Well, I’m not exactly an expert on elves, so I can’t really help you there.” Callum said, after a moment. “I’d say you should ask Ezran, but I think he’s mainly a baby dragon expert now.”

Ez rolled his eyes. “Animal expert too.” He reminded him. “But yeah…sorry, Rayla. I don’t know either.”

“Wasn’t expecting you to.” Rayla shook her head a little, drawing up her knees to her chest and perching her chin atop them. She made a low grumbling sound. “Ugh.”

Callum looked over. “What?” He asked, worriedly.

“Horn-ache.” She explained, and lifted both hands to clamp around the bases of her horns, just over the hat. She looked very disgruntled. “They got too cold, and now they’re aching. Horn-ache is the worst.”

Despite everything, that managed to get him interested. She had said before that horns had insides, hadn’t she? “Cold makes the insides of your horns ache?” He wondered, and she grumbled again.

“Yep.” She said, shortly. “Always turns into a head-ache, too. It’s just great.” Ezran eyed her, then shuffled over from the firewood stack to reach his hand to hers, stopping just short of touching her.

“Can I?” he asked, very politely. She eyed him, while Callum watched with raised eyebrows.

“Why?”

He shrugged. “I wanna see what it feels like?”

“Why?” She reiterated, staring with a sort of bemused exasperation. “It’s just like a normal headache from…cold water, or eating too much iced cream. Just in your horns.”

“I don’t have horns, though.” Ezran informed her, cheerfully. “I want to see what it feels like.”

Rayla shook her head disbelievingly at him. “Well, Ezran, if you want to share this delightful experience, you can go ahead.” She decided eventually. “But you’re completely crazy. Who wants to feel a new kind of headache?”

Callum sheepishly waved, and she turned her stare on him. “I just think it would be kind of interesting.” He defended. “But I’m not the one with weird empathy powers, so.”

Without further ado, Ezran reached out and grabbed her hand. His expression twisted strangely. “Okay, um, I really have no idea how you’re even noticing the horn-ache over that.” He said, his other hand going reflexively to his upper arm, as though to soothe some unseen hurt. Callum was abruptly reminded that, in fact, there were many ongoing threats to Rayla’s health aside from cold. His gut twisted anew.

She looked momentarily surprised, as if somehow she’d forgotten about the apparently incredibly painful lacerations on her arm. “…I’m sort of getting used to it?” She offered, a little awkwardly. “The horn-ache is…new. And right on my head. Kind of harder to ignore.” She squinted. “…Maybe you should take your hand off.”

“No, it’s not any worse than it was before.” Ezran refuted, stubbornly, with an almost comical look of concentration on his little face. “And I can feel the horns. It’s kind of cool. You can feel them? They’re sort of…heavy? And you can feel that they’re there. It’s really weird.” Callum experienced an odd twinge of jealousy, and immediately felt weird about it. It was probably weird to be jealous of your brother’s ability to empathically experience what it was like to have horns, right?

“If elves couldn’t feel their horns there, we’d probably hit them on things twenty times a day.” Rayla pointed out, an amused twitch at the edge of her lips.

“Yeah, I guess, but it’s still weird to feel.” Ez said. He paused. “I do think you should take some sort of painkiller, though. Even if you’re getting used to it….” He shuddered, and withdrew his hand.

“Probably still not a good idea to have any willow bark, though.” She said, a little glumly. “Might get in the way of all the…” She waved towards her upper arm. “Scab stuff. Early healing. And if I somehow open the wounds they’ll be bleeding everywhere again.”

Callum’s grip tightened around the sword he was stirring with. Carefully, he reached to the side for a cloth, and used it to remove the iron pot from the fire. “There’s still the lilium, though.” He reminded her. She’d seemed a lot more level-headed with the lower dose, so…honestly, he was expecting her to be relatively easy to convince on the matter. To his surprise, though, she immediately shook her head with the sort of ironclad conviction that he knew he wouldn’t sway.

“No.” She said, very certainly. “Can’t risk it.”

Ez blinked, and peered up at her. “Why not? You don’t have to go out again, right? This is enough wood for the night?” He sounded suddenly anxious, which Callum certainly empathised with. The thought of sending Rayla back out into that storm in the chill of encroaching evening, after she had already come back once clumsy and cold-numbed…it was nearly intolerable.

Rayla gave the firewood pile a passing glance. “Yeah, it’s probably fine.” She said, though a little dubiously. “As long as we don’t go mad with it. That’s not the problem, though.”

Callum stared at her. “…I thought you seemed okay with the lower dose.” He set the pot aside and turned fully to face her, more than a little dismayed. He’d sort of taken it for granted that he’d be able to treat her wounds and – everything else – without it hurting too much.

She shrugged, a little uncomfortably. “It was alright, I suppose. But it’s too risky for me to use during the storm like this. It’s…sort of a sleeping drug? Makes you sleepy. I can’t risk falling asleep on my watch and letting the fire go out, or not being able to wake up if something happens. Too dangerous.”

He hesitated. It was on the tip of his tongue to suggest she forget her watch altogether, and let him and Ez handle it, but…as if she could tell what he was thinking, she eyed him so narrowly that he wisely decided to keep his mouth shut. “…Not even a tiny bit?” He asked, eventually, and recalled his nightmare of the night before. “You woke up last night for a little bit – when I was awake – you’d be able to wake up if you needed to.”

“Without someone waking me up?” She retorted, shaking her head. “Can’t guarantee it. And that doesn’t solve the issue of me falling asleep on the job, either. I don’t remember how it was the first time I took the stuff, but yesterday at least – I kept almost falling asleep at the fire, which is…pretty much exactly what we’re trying to avoid.”

“You were pretty sleepy the first time, too.” Ezran admitted after a moment.

She waved at him. “Well, there you go.”

Ez frowned at her. “You really don’t remember it yourself?” He asked. “Like…not even the part where you scratched your arm open?”

Her lips twisted into a light grimace. “Just tiny flashes, pretty much. Enough to remember I was acting like a drugged idiot, anyway.”

Callum coughed. “Well, you definitely acted different.” He said, tactfully, and she rolled her eyes. “But yesterday’s dose worked out better?” He resigned himself, albeit unhappily, to the fact that she was probably right about lilium being a bad idea.

“Yep.” She replied, after a second of thought. “I remember pretty much everything, and only acted a little bit stupid and moonstruck. So it wasn’t so bad.”

‘Moonstruck’, again. She’d been either too drugged or too reticent to explain it last time, but maybe…

Ezran ended up asking before Callum could. “What does that even mean?” He asked, leaning forward with interest. “Like, not what the word means – you said it was about the full moon? But then you never really explained.”

“Er.” Looking distinctly caught off-guard, Rayla straightened slowly and stared at Ezran. Then she stared at Callum, who immediately tried to look like he wasn’t as interested in the answer as he was. “Just, sort of, a Moonshadow elf thing.” She attempted, looking very much as though she was hoping they’d leave it at that. “It’s not really important?”

“I wanna know anyway.” Ez said, very earnestly. “It’s so cool learning more about elves. Before we met you I had no idea that elf horns had insides, or what the other types of elf were called, or – anything? It’s just fun to learn.” He peered at her, tilting his head, and Callum saw in the edge of his smile that his little brother knew full well that Rayla was being purposefully reticent. “…Or do you not want to talk about it?”

Rayla shuffled, fidgeting with her binding in what almost looked like a nervous motion. “Well…” She hedged. She didn’t want to talk about it, and that was very obvious. But she probably also didn’t want to admit to that, because that would make it extremely obvious that whatever-it-was wasn’t so unimportant as she’d attempted to pass it off as.

Callum very, very badly wanted to know what she was being so cagey about. Was it some sort of Moonshadow elf secret? Was it something she wasn’t supposed to talk about? But…no; as he looked at her, he thought this was much more along the lines of some sort of uncomfortable or…maybe even embarrassing secret. About elves. He really wanted to know. But… “If you really don’t want to talk about it…” he started, reluctantly, and for a second she looked relieved. But-

Ezran, apparently, was far more merciless about the whole thing. “Is it something embarrassing?” he asked, gleefully, apparently picking up on the same cues Callum had, or possibly some host of empath-exclusive tells. “Do Moonshadow elves go crazy at the full moon? Is that it?”

She sort of…reeled back, as if struck, and Callum was certain that Ezran had hit uncomfortably close to the truth. “I – not exactly? It’s – it doesn’t really…” She tried, haltingly, then shook her head and collected herself. Finally, a little impatiently, she said “Alright. Yes, the Full Moon does weird things to us, and yes, it makes us act a bit weird, and that’s where the word ‘moonstruck’ probably comes from. But we don’t go crazy.” Her voice went sour.

Callum made an interested sort of ‘huh sound. “So, Moonshadow elves at the full moon act like they’re high on drugs?” He clarified, and she twitched.

“Not that bad.” She denied, shaking her head. “Just…a bit energetic, maybe. A little scatterbrained. Kind of impulsive, sometimes. It’s not really a problem.” She paused, for a moment. “Well, not for most people. Moon-mages have to deal with it more, I think?”

“Because they use moon spells?” Ezran asked, fascinated.

“Does that make the moon affect you more?” Callum wondered. “Using moon magic?”

Rayla glanced at them with that are-you-serious look again. “…No, it doesn’t.” She said, rolling her eyes. “It’s just that Moon-mages need to have a stronger connection, so they usually-“ She stopped, abruptly, eyes widening. Her next words fell numbly from her lips. “…they usually take…less…” Her voice slowed. She went utterly still. “…Oh.” She said, in a very small voice. “Oh, no.”

He straightened, exchanging a quick glance with Ezran. “What?” He asked, a little alarmed, because she had very obviously just thought of something unpleasant. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

Dismayed, Rayla haltingly finished her earlier sentence: “Moon-mages take less moondust.” She said, numbly. “Moondust. I can’t believe – I didn’t even think – I completely forgot-“ At once, she was on her feet, in a flurry of agitated motion that brought her over to her bag, pulling things out of it in a haphazard manner that almost saw one sock flung into the fire. Callum tried to catch it, fumbled, but managed to hook it away from the edge of the campfire before it caught alight. “Come on, come on,” She was muttering to herself, a little frantic, as she pulled out her assassin’s clothes and started plundering a variety of hidden pockets that Callum hadn’t even known were there. “Please, please say I was an idiot and – kept some in the wrong place, or something-“

“Rayla-“ Callum attempted, moving over with a hand half-extended as if to offer aid. “What’s wrong? Have you lost something?” Ezran’s eyes had gone very wide.

“Moondust, Callum!” She half-snarled at him. “Moondust – and I didn’t even think about it – how long has it even been?” She stopped her frenetic rummaging for a second, stilling so abruptly that the difference was startling. “A week? Eight days? Nine? How long have we been travelling?”

He did some quick thinking. “Eight days since we left the castle, including today?” He offered, watching her closely for any sign that an explanation might be forthcoming.

She scowled, the furious pace of her thoughts almost visible on her face. “So, about twelve days since my last dose.” She concluded, disgustedly. “No wonder I’ve been stronger. That’s long enough to start seeing the effects…” She deflated, all at once, her sudden burst of energy deserting her. Without it, she looked more tired than ever. “I didn’t even realise.” She said again, quieter, with an unhappily familiar sort of self-recrimination.

Tentatively, he shuffled close enough to lay a hand on her shoulder. “Rayla, would you just explain what the problem is? What dose? ‘Moondust’? What are you talking about?”

She raised a hand to her face, briefly obscuring her features. “It could be worse.” She said, almost to herself. “It’ll be a pain, but it could be worse.” She shook her head, sighed, and finally turned to face him, eyes flickering briefly to Ezran, who was watching silently. “Moonshadow elves – almost all of us – take a drug called moondust.” She said, finally. “It weakens our connection to the Moon.”

Callum blinked, perplexed, and let his hand fall away. “Weakens?” He repeated, uncomprehendingly. “Why would you want to weaken your connection?”

“Doesn’t that mean you have less magic?” Ezran chimed in, his brow furrowed. His arms tightened around the egg. “Why would you want to have less magic?”

“It’s – I’m getting to that. Just…” She exhaled, slowly, and rubbed at her temples. “Yes, it means we have less magic – and we’re weaker, too, but…for any of us who aren’t Moon-mages, it’s usually worth it.” She looked at them, lips downturned. “You see…normally, the Moon affects us. A lot.” She said, drawing the words out, as though she really didn’t want to be saying them. “It – especially for assassins, or spies, or soldiers – we can’t afford what the Moon does to us, so we take higher doses than most, and maybe it makes us weaker in battle but at least we get to keep our heads-“ She shook her head in a sudden, violent motion, her next breath coming out in a stressed puff of air.

Callum looked at her for a long moment, and put together the clues. “You mean the Full Moon really does mess with your heads, but only if you’re not taking moondust?” He summarised.

“That’s part of it.” Rayla admitted, looking so horribly lost he had no idea what to do with it. “Unmedicated Moonshadow elves at Full Moon – well, we’re crazy strong, but being strong and fast doesn’t mean much if you go off chasing moon-moths instead of going after your target. Or if you’re a spy, going moon-mad in the streets and getting caught, or – you get the idea. You never let one of us into enemy territory unless we’re on a really high dose, it’s just…too dangerous. And now I’m on nothing.” Her lips twisted into an unhappy grimace. “I’ve not been unmedicated since I was ten. I have no idea what it’s going to be like.”

Callum and Ezran exchanged glances. It was Ez who spoke, in the end. “But…can’t we just make sure we’re somewhere safe and away from people for the full moon?” He asked, tentatively. “Is it really that much of a problem?”

“Aside from the fact that I don’t really want to lose my head and get actually moonstruck?” Rayla said, sardonically. “Yes, it’s a problem, because it’s not only the Full Moon we have to worry about.” She looked out to the side of their shelter, staring at plain stone. Or…wasn’t that the vague direction she’d said the moon had been, earlier? “Six days till New Moon.” She concluded, after a second. “That’s going to be…” She buried her face in her hands for a second, exhaled sharply, then looked up at them. Her voice was tight. “Fair warning – I’m probably going to be pretty useless for the day of the New Moon. I’ll definitely slow us down. And I’ll probably be out of sorts – and really weak – for the day before and at least a couple days after. If we’re attacked, I won’t stand a chance.”

Callum eyed her with alarm. “…Okay, I see how that would be a problem for elves in enemy territory, yeah.” He admitted. One day being insanely strong but kind of crazy would be one thing, but entire days of protracted weakness of the sort she seemed to be describing…he understood a little why they considered moondust so important.

She sighed. “At least we’re probably just going to be in the middle of the mountains for that.” She said, resigned. “Unless you’ve got any towns out there, we probably won’t be attacked.”

“Unless some other tracker catches up with us.” He said, a little darkly, and she looked up.

“…Didn’t I say?” She inspected him, then shook her head. “Suppose I forgot to mention it. Callum, no one will be able to follow us through this storm. That’s one good thing about it, I suppose. We’re going to have enough of a head start after it clears that there’ll be no trail for anyone to follow after us. We’re in the clear, for now.”

He was abruptly glad that he was sitting down. He thought his legs might have buckled under him, otherwise. “…Oh.” He offered, weakly. He hadn’t quite realised how much the risk of attack was weighing at him, but…

“Well, that’s a relief.” Ezran voiced, perking up. “I really wasn’t liking the idea that someone might attack us at pretty much any moment.” He paused. “Well, I guess that’s not really a problem at the moment anyway, since I can feel people coming, but…”

Rayla’s brows furrowed as she turned to him, and Callum realised she’d missed Ezran’s little revelation of skill. “You can what?”

“Oh, you weren’t here for that.” Ez said, surprised, and then leaned in. “Right, so while you were gone…”

She listened, alternately perplexed and attentive, as he explained his experiments in using Azymondias’ sense of the storm to feel. She raised an eyebrow at the knowledge that he’d been able to sense her returning, but – when he mentioned the animals he could feel, her attention sharpened into an almost urgent interest. “You can find animals?” She demanded, with a quick glance at the rag Callum had covered the birds in.

He looked briefly uncomfortable. “Well, yeah.” He admitted. “…I did think you’d find that useful.”

Very bluntly, she said “Ezran, I was honestly kind of worried that we’d starve here, if the storm went on too long. Hunting is hard in weather like this.” She exhaled in a long, exhausted breath while they flinched. Callum abruptly remembered that she’d stated her reason for staying out in the storm so long as the failed pursuit of a rabbit, and felt apprehension stirring in his gut. He’d sort of relaxed about the food situation, what with the doves Rayla had caught earlier, but evidently he needed to start thinking a little further ahead. “So yes, that’s useful. Can you do it now?”

Ezran blinked. “What, right now?” He asked, alarmed. “But they’re all out in that.” He waved expressively at the storm. “You can’t go out again already!”

Rayla hesitated, looking at the ledge-path out of their shelter with a considering, sidelong stare.

“Rayla, no, you just – no.” Callum said flatly, attempting to be less obvious about the fact that his heart had just started racing with anxiety. “You’re still cold-“ He pointed accusatively at her fingertips, which were still unsteady enough to have a light tremble. “-and shivery! There’s no way you can go back out yet.”

“…If I wait, it’ll be too cold to risk it.” She countered, evasively, still plainly considering it.

“You’d freeze anyway, Rayla.” Ezran told her, as unimpressed as Callum. “You’ve barely warmed up. And I’m not gonna tell you where the animals are if it’s not safe for you to go out.”

She stared at him, with a sort of annoyance building that Callum thought heralded an argument. She appeared to have built some amount of tolerance for their cossetting, but apparently, even that was beginning to wear thin. “Ezran-“ She started, an edge to her voice, and Callum hastily moved in front of her to block her vision.

He thought for a wild moment on how to divert her. “Dinner!” He blurted, gracelessly, and waved in the direction of the covered doves. “I mean – the birds! I plucked them, but I don’t really know what to do next, and they’re sort of…frozen solid?”

Rayla narrowed her eyes at him, and didn’t move.

After a moment, he relented from his extremely blatant diversion and said “Look, Rayla…I know we do need more meat, but so long as the storm is going, Ezran will probably be able to point you to animals, right? So for now let’s just worry about the food we do have, and….you can go hunting tomorrow, or something.”

She stared at him balefully for a long few seconds before she conceded. “…Fine.” She accepted, though she didn’t look happy about it, and turned to inspect the rags. “…If they’re really frozen, easiest way to cook them will just be to boil them for a bit.” She said after a moment. “But you’ve got tea in the pot at the moment. And we need to get these gutted, somehow.”

“Well, we can drink the tea.” Callum said, relieved. “Might take us a bit, though. But that’s probably a good thing – I don’t know how steady your hands will be until you’ve warmed up a bit more.”

She sighed, raising her right hand to flex its fingers. The motion looked somewhat stiffer than it ought to have been. She didn’t even try the left hand. “I suppose.” She admitted. “Well, whatever. Let’s have some disgusting pine tea, then.”

And so it transpired that, with the aid of their empty jars, each of them were served tea made from melted snow and pine-needles, while trapped in a pitiful excuse for a cave in the middle of an awful mountain storm, with Ezran apparently sharing the experience with the unborn dragon whose egg was glowing in his lap. It was all faintly ridiculous, and the absurdity hit Callum all at once as he was passing a jar to his brother. He giggled, a little hysterically, and the others turned to lift eyebrows at him. It was almost simultaneous, the way they did it, and that just compounded the ridiculousness of the situation. He giggled again, utterly involuntary.

“Sorry, sorry.” He apologised, a minute later, still feeling weird and giddy about the whole thing. “It just – hit me, that we’re…us, and we’re here, in this.” He gestured at the storm.

“You’re not making any sense.” Rayla informed him severely, cradling her jar gingerly between her hands. As before, he’d opted to give her the smaller one for herself, and refill it as necessary. She hadn’t made any move to drink it yet, and he wondered if that was because she liked the warmth or because she disliked the taste. Or maybe both?

“Yeah, I guess not.” He admitted, lips twisting with strange humour. “I guess what I mean is that…it’s just so crazy that we’re here. Two humans, an elf, and a dragon egg – a dragon egg my brother can talk to – and we’re on this stupid big mission to bring peace to humans and elves and dragons and – and we’re just stuck here in a weird cave drinking pine needle tea. It’s just….” He searched for a word. “Ridiculous. And crazy.”

Her lips twitched. “Well, you’ve got a point there.” She murmured, with a smile that looked more wry than anything. “It is pretty ridiculous. And crazy.”

“Not what you thought your life would be like ten days ago, huh?” Ezran asked, and she snorted.

“Nope.” She said, and “Drink your tea.”

He grumbled, but obligingly raised the jar to take his first sip. He made a face, drank a little more, and then offered it to Callum.

“You know,” Callum reflected, after taking the tea jar from his brother and inhaling the scent, “You two apparently hate it and all, but I think this stuff is actually sort of growing on me.” The jar was pleasantly warm in his hands, the heat of it seeping through his gloves. He felt his eyelids flutter a little lower in the pleasant lull it brought.

Ezran eyed him dubiously. “…Really?” He asked, plainly sceptical, as Callum breathed another waft of pine-scented air. “But it’s…” He searched for a word “Bitter. And piney.”

“No, really?” Rayla offered, dryly, still nursing her smaller jar of the stuff. She held it braced between her hands so that it almost looked like a proper mug, and from the looks of it, was enjoying the borrowed heat as much as he was. “Piney, you say. I wonder why.”

“A great mystery.” He agreed, lips twitching, and raised the oversized jar to drink. The warmth of it suffused him, so pleasant amid the cold of the storm that he sighed quietly as he drank, with a mild and contented sort of pleasure. It helped that he really was starting to enjoy the taste of it, too. “It tastes weird, but in a good way.” He decided, when he lowered it again. “I think it’s better without the cyanroot, too. Less sour.”

Rayla made a pensive hmm sound, inspecting her beverage. She took another sip of it, looking decidedly ambivalent, and shrugged. “Well, I don’t hate it.” She exhaled, and her breath puffed white into the air. “At least it’s warm.”

“I think I’d prefer just warm water to drink.” Ezran said, but accepted the jar from Callum when he offered it anyway. He grimaced, and drank, making a face.

She shrugged again. “Warm water doesn’t protect you from scurvy.”

Ez made a glum sound, and kept drinking.

If nothing else, the hot drink definitely did help them warm up, and Rayla was less worryingly purple by the time she got through three small jars of tea. Her right hand had better colour, too, though the state of the left one still made him grimace on sight. He thought, a little flustered, that he’d better pay it more attention today. And, that was a thought… “Ez, do you think you’d be able to do that thing with, er,” He paused to contemplate the ridiculousness of having a nickname for an unborn royal dragon. “Zym? For Rayla’s binding? It’s been a couple of days now, right?” The elf in question blinked, and straightened a little at the topic, turning to watch for Ezran’s reply.

He seemed a little startled, but looked down at the egg anyway, as if waiting for its response. It never quite stopped being uncanny when he did that. Eggs weren’t supposed to talk. “…Actually, I think that would be a good idea for all of us. It might help us let off some of this…” he waved. “Storm energy. It’s kind of intense right now.” He hesitated. “Did you mean now? Or…”

Callum looked to Rayla inquiringly, and she pursed her lips for a moment in thought. “After dinner.” She decreed, in the end. “If it’s anything like the first time, I’ll get the worst pins-and-needles known to elf, and that’s pretty hard to work through.”

“Sounds good.” Ezran said. “Is there anything you want me to do while you’re working on dinner? I don’t really think there’s a lot of point in collecting snow this time, because, uh…” he nodded to their modest cliffside, which in the absence of an overhang, was quite comprehensively piled with snowfall. It was growing deeper by the hour.

Rayla considered it. “You might want to move some of that snow further in, actually. That way we won’t lose as much to the wind blowing it over the edge. I suppose snow isn’t exactly hard to come by during a blizzard, but…” She shrugged. “If we’re going to be burning a campfire for the next however-long, we might as well get hot water out of it.”

Ezran accepted that readily enough, and it was obvious by how easily he left the tent-covers (carefully swaddling the egg up beforehand) that he no longer felt particularly cold. Hot drinks and sitting directly beside a fire would do that to you, Callum supposed. His brother put his gloves back on and went off to his task, and Rayla pulled Callum aside with the rag-wrapped doves in one hand.

“They’re frozen, so this won’t be as messy as usual, but still best do this further out from where we’re sitting.” She explained, and visibly suppressed a shiver as the wind picked up her hair and ruffled at the edges of her scarf. Even just a little further out from the shelter of their not-cave, it was a lot windier. “Suppose that’s two good things about these birds being frozen through.”

He blinked. If the first was the lack of mess… “Two?”

“We won’t get blood everywhere, and it’ll be less gory than usual, so your squeamishness gets some training.” She explained, and…er.

He looked at the plucked doves as she unwrapped them, and swallowed. “…Right. Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “I guess you’re, er, going to show me how to…”

“How to prepare a bird, yeah.” She agreed, taking one dove aside while she reached idly for a blade. “I’m alright with something this small, but…bigger animals? With my arm and hand like this…” She looked, momentarily, immensely frustrated. But she quashed the expression in the space of a second. “I’ll need your help with the meat from now on.” She admitted, voice tight. “Though I’ve got no idea how I’m going to walk you through your first skinning without both hands working right, so I suppose it’s a good thing we’ve got birds this time.”

Callum swallowed back his reflexive nausea at the thought of skinning. “What’s worse?” He wondered, with morbid interest. “Skinning, or disembowelling?”

She considered it, and shrugged. “Depends on the person, I suppose. Both are pretty gory. Gutting definitely smells worse, so there’s that.”

“Great.” He said, dryly. “Sounds exciting.”

Her lips quirked. “Something to look forward to.” She said, with a little grim humour, and turned her attention down to the bird. Her left hand’s mobility seemed limited to just holding the thing down. She shifted it in her grip, then without further word, beheaded it. There was a soft crunch. Callum swallowed back the flood of nausea at the sound of it, but – it was at least not as bad as the goose had been. Next she cut the tiny bird feet off, and then leaned back with a frown.

“…Something wrong?” He managed to ask.

“I’m not used to doing birds this small. And definitely not frozen.” She admitted, staring at it. “Normally what you do with birds is pull all the innards out through their cloacae. But this is kind of small. And I’m pretty sure the guts won’t come out like they should when they’re frozen.”

Callum wasn’t certain he wanted to ask what cloacae were. She apparently spotted his confusion, though, and told him anyway.

A cloaca was apparently a bird-butt. Alright then.

He thought he could have happily gone his whole life without learning that the correct way to gut a bird was to pull its organs out through its butt. Unfortunately, his life clearly had other things in store for him.

“…Well, I suppose since it’s small, I might as well just cut it open.” Rayla decided eventually. She grimaced, and then – with a sound like splintering ice – cleaved the dove open. Its insides were dark red and frozen solid, and despite the solidity – he could see the viscera, the blood, the broken bone-

He turned aside for a moment to gag, hand over his mouth, and dry-heaved a couple of times before he managed to swallow back the taste of acid, the sensation burning in the middle of his chest.

“Can’t exactly show you properly how this is supposed to be done, when the birds are frozen like this.” She said, apologetically, and shifted her grip as she stuck the point of the blade into the dove’s innards. “But, well, this is the stuff you usually take out. I suppose I’ll have to show you again next time we have something that’s not…” She waved at it.

“An icicle.” He supplied, a moment later. “Birdsicle?”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Yes, Callum.” She said, dryly. “Next time we have something that’s not a ‘birdsicle’, I’ll show you properly.”

“By pulling it out through its butt.”

“Only if whatever we catch is another bird.” She said, and set that dove aside to go for the next one.

When she was done, and the frozen offal had been unceremoniously tossed off the cliffside, they returned gladly to the fireside where Ezran had already started putting another pot of water to the boil. Rayla received this very appreciatively, and promptly planted both doves into the water.

“It’ll be bland and favourless.” She explained, apologetically. “But it’s the fastest way to cook something that’s frozen through.”

Callum, who was by this point exceptionally hungry, found he did not care about flavour at all. After five minutes or so the pot started to emit some tantalising savoury smells, and he actually started to feel a little dizzy with how ravenous it made him. He stared at the water bubbling around the meat and noticed for the first time how small those birds were. Surely they wouldn’t be enough for all three of them?

A while later, he had his answer: they weren’t.

Splitting the meat between them resulted in portions that were dismayingly small. Callum wolfed his down so quickly he almost choked, and picked the bones clean, and when he was done felt like he could have easily eaten three or four more portions of the same size before he was full, but there just…wasn’t anything else, this was all the food they had. They’d cooked and eaten dinner but were all still hungry. Bait was so dissatisfied with his ration that the rest of them had had to defend their own from him, and that was just…kind of awful, making your pet go hungry. Not as awful as Ezran going hungry, but it was bleakly unpleasant even so. It was something of a sobering experience.

“…We should drink the water.” Rayla offered, a little quietly, breaking an uneasy silence. No wonder she’d wanted to go out and hunt again earlier… “Some of the nutrients from the meat will have gone into it. Better than nothing.”

So they distributed the thin broth among them, and sat by the fire drinking it, all probably thinking the same dark thoughts about hunger. “Tomorrow, I’ll help you find the animals.” Ezran said to Rayla, a little tiredly, as if this new and true introduction to the concept of not enough food had exhausted him. “There’s a lot of them staying in mostly one place, because of the storm.” His lips twisted a little. “Like us, I guess.”

“Anything big?” Rayla asked, after a moment.

He paused, and closed his eyes, exhaling slowly. “A deer.” He said, eventually. “She’s young. She was separated from her mother and now she’s hiding inside a hollowed-out tree. It’s been a while since she ate and she’s starting to get too cold to move.” He shivered, and pulled his cloak more tightly around himself. A little miserably, he added “I guess she might die in the night.”

She looked at him quietly for a few long seconds. “I’m not planning on going out again tonight.” She said. “But I think you should tell me what direction that deer’s in, just in case you…can’t find her tomorrow.”

He plainly got her meaning. “Yeah, I guess I can’t find dead things.” Ezran agreed, despondently, and exhaled. He pointed in a direction behind them. “That way. It’s hard to tell the distance, but it’s pretty much a straight line that way.”

Rayla laid a hand briefly on his arm, evidently intended as comfort. “Thanks, Ez.”

He just nodded to her, and stared glumly into his broth. Callum watched with his brow furrowed, considering his brother’s new strange range, and then considering the incandescent power of the dragon egg in the storm.

“…I get how Zym being in the storm would let you, you know, feel things moving through the storm.” Callum spoke after a while, and drew everyone’s eyes back to him. “But…being able to feel the animals like that…isn’t that your regular empathy thing? How come you can do it from so far away?”

Ezran shifted uneasily, and pulled the egg back into his lap, as if guarding it. “…It’s kind of hard to explain.” He said, eventually. His shoulders hunched just enough for him to look uncomfortable.

For a while, it seemed like he wouldn’t elaborate, and Callum shifted in preparation to nudge him, but…

“I guess…Zym’s magic sort of…I don’t know. Leaks into me? Especially right now, with the storm…” His eyes went distant for a moment. “It’s like…my abilities are really weak on their own. Normally I need to be touching someone for them to work. But since we found Zym, and started talking to him, it’s been getting stronger. I can feel people. I can sense things without even touching anyone, sometimes. It’s not really something I’m doing on purpose. It’s just…” He shrugged. “Happening.”

“Is that how you figured out what to do with the binding?” Rayla asked, eyes a little sharp as they watched him.

He frowned. “Dunno.” He admitted, after a moment. “I think with that it’s more of an even split? Zym’s really strong, and he can sense your binding, and his magic can beat other magic things, but he can’t reach out like I can. And I can’t sense the binding or do anything to it, but I can reach out. So we really need to work together for that. It’s tricky.”

She made a thoughtful noise. “Seems weird, that you can power your empathy abilities with Sky magic from the Dragon Prince.” She mused. “Empathy’s not exactly a Sky-magic thing.”

Ezran shrugged helplessly. “I don’t get it either. I was just sort of going about talking to animals before I met Zym. This…” he waved around, with that odd distant look in his eyes again. “It’s all new.”

Only eight-ish days since encountering the dragon egg, and Ezran was reaching out into storms and feeling the minds of animals all around them. Callum wondered, with a hint of trepidation, exactly how far this ability would progress. He wondered, worriedly, whether it was even safe for Ezran. He’d already said he didn’t know if he’d be able to sleep, after all. “…Maybe you should do the binding.” He said, a little uneasily. “Let off some of that storm-magic. And, you know, help stop Rayla’s hand from falling off.”

“I do prefer it when my hand doesn’t fall off.” Rayla mused, and Ezran’s lips twitched. He set his empty jar of broth aside.

“I guess now’s as good as ever.” He said, and shuffled over to her with the egg. “I think it’ll be easier this time. We know what we’re doing, there’s more magic, and I’m getting better at the reaching-out stuff.” He settled beside Rayla, and extended his hands. “Give me your hand?” Obligingly, she extended it, all dark and mottled-looking, and Ezran peeled back her variety of sleeves to expose the bandage over the binding. This, he untied, with Callum watching sharply to check on the state of the sores there. They looked much the same; dark, and dry, with no visible swelling. Good.

“Need the binding touching the egg again?” She guessed and Ezran produced a distracted sound of agreement.

“We could probably try it without, but I don’t really want to take chances with this.” He said, tugging gingerly at the edges of the binding as if to determine how tight it was. He hummed, then moved her hand until her wrist was pressed up against the egg. “There. Now just hold still, and we’ll…” He trailed off, as if he’d abruptly forgotten that he was speaking, eyes slipping closed as his fingers slid over dragonshell. In his abrupt distraction, the rest of them fell still, lingering in a silence interrupted only by the crackle of the fire and the howl of the winds.

The glow of the egg pulsed, stunningly bright. It pulsed again, and again, and again, steady as a heartbeat. Ezran inhaled slowly, and exhaled with a plain deliberation; the glow began to ebb and flow with his breaths. Then, as a scowl of concentration spread on his face, he exhaled again in a sudden short burst as the light flared-

Rayla twitched, a full-body movement, but she was careful not to remove her hand. At the same time, Ezran’s eyes opened, and he sighed. His eyes looked unnaturally bright. “That’s done, I think.” He said, satisfied. “It was easier.” His brow furrowed a little. “A lot easier, actually.”

“…Can I take my hand back?” Rayla asked, after a moment, and he blinked.

“Oh! Um, yeah, we’re done.” He agreed quickly, and her hand receded. She immediately checked on the state of the binding, fingers tugging at it.

Callum resisted the urge to immediately appropriate her hand and check for himself. “How is it?” He asked, and she pursed her lips.

“Looser than the first time, I think. But probably not by a lot.” She flexed her fingers, carefully. “Thanks, Ez.” Her brow furrowed, and she added “Thanks…Azymondias.” By the look on her face, she still found it as weird to have interactions with an unborn dragon as Callum did.

“You’re welcome!” He chirped, presumably from both parties, and she shook her head bemusedly.

Then, a little glumly, she said “Well, I suppose I’d best prepare myself for the pins-and-needles.”

“I’d like to maybe check on your wounds while you do that, please.” Callum informed her, and she frowned, as if suddenly reminded of the horrible injuries all over her arm.

“Ugh.” She said, en lieu of an answer. “This is going to be cold.” With that, she unlatched the clasp a the front of Callum’s cloak, which she was still wearing, and shrugged it off of her shoulders. She didn’t move further for a few moments, instead shooting Callum a look that was half-grumpy and half-embarrassed. Eventually he realised that, well, she needed to take her layers off, and she couldn’t exactly do that alone, but she also didn’t want to ask outright for help with something so basic-

Politely not saying anything about this, Callum shuffled closer, and helped her out of the wide variety of sweaters and shirts that she’d installed herself within. When there was only the short-sleeved undershirt left, he wrapped the cloak around all of her except the arm, and inspected the bandages.

“Not even a bit bloody.” He said, with satisfaction, and started untying the knots in it.

Rayla was giving him a strange look beneath the cloak he’d draped over her, but it was very tolerant. “It did stop bleeding yesterday.” She pointed out. “Or, mostly, anyway.”

“Yeah, but I was pretty worried you’d have opened it up while hacking at trees or something.” He said, finally able to put the thought out in the open now that he knew it wasn’t true. “It’s not like these scabs are that solid yet.”

“True.” Rayla said, a little dubiously, craning her neck to inspect the injuries as he exposed them. “It looks like it’s scabbed properly in the middle now, at least.”

“Won’t be that thick, though.” His voice was a little cynical. “You really could open these pretty easily.” He looked around for disinfectant and found, with a flicker of consternation, that Ezran had already procured the field-healing stuff. “Er. Thanks, Ez.”

He half-listened to the cheerful response of his brother, already considering the wounds. They were strange to look at, now. Without them actively bleeding, it was a little easier to see the scope of them. The one lower down on the arm was nasty enough, but the upper one…it really did gape, and all that space in-between was filled up with dark, thickening scabs. He thought the wound might well be an inch wide, at the widest part. Maybe even more.

“That’s going to be one monster of a scar.” Rayla noted, as if she were reading his mind.

“No kidding.” He muttered, a little uneasily. There was something daunting about the knowledge that, in their brief acquaintance, in their defence, Rayla had acquired scars that would follow her the breadth of her life. “All of this is going to scar. These gashes, your wrist, the stab on your shoulder…”

“More battle-scars than most Moonshadow assassins my age have, that’s for sure.” When he looked up at her, her lips were twitching, as if she found this particularly amusing.

“Are there even any other Moonshadow assassins your age?” He asked, a little exasperated, and her smile grew.

“Honestly? Probably not. Not any who’ve gone on missions, anyway.”

He looked down at the injuries again, partially because he kind of needed to in order to treat them, and partially just because something about her smile left him oddly flustered. “So you’re a precocious assassin with precocious scarring.” He concluded, and she huffed a laugh. “Or, scarring-in-progress, I guess. For now it’s just injuries.”

“Give it a month.” She shrugged. “Once New Moon passes I’ll heal faster.” She paused, a strange expression on her face. “…Probably a lot faster, actually. There’s one advantage of being off the moondust.” Her tone was dubious, as though she wasn’t at all certain whether this was a good thing or not.

What had she said earlier? Six days to new moon? He exhaled. “…Well, that’s something.” He agreed, and returned to cleaning the wounds. The one at her shoulder actually looked quite aggravated, and he frowned when he came to it. “…Your firewood rope harness,” he realised. “You must have been putting pressure on it. Rayla.” His voice was aggrieved.

She blinked. “Didn’t even realise.” She admitted, trying unsuccessfully to crane her neck sufficiently to see the wound. “I was a little cold. Made everything numb, you know. I guess I’ll have to rig it for only the one shoulder, tomorrow.”

“Ugh.” Was all he said, and he paid extra attention to that wound. When all the bandages were replaced, he asked about the bruising, and grimaced as she peeled her undershirt up to reveal the spectacular coloration of her midriff. If anything, it looked worse than yesterday, the colours darker and more distinct against the rest of her skin. There might be a little less swelling, though.

“How do you even move with your waist like that?” Ezran piped up, morbidly fascinated, from beside the fire. “I mean, I know I felt it earlier, but you weren’t moving then. Doesn’t it hurt whenever you move around?”

She shrugged carelessly. “Duh.” She said. “Not exactly a lot I can do about it, though. It’ll heal eventually.”

Callum grumbled, all the while he considered what extra padding he could provide for her when she slept. It couldn’t be easy to get comfortable on hard ground with bruises like that, after all. “Well, at least you’re not actually bleeding anymore.”

She raised her afflicted hand to waggle its fingers at him. He didn’t miss the slight grimace she made as she did so. “And my wrist-binding’s loose again.”

He inspected it, narrow-eyed, and then promptly appropriated her hand to inspect the wrist-scab. She tolerated this with only an eye-roll and a sigh, watching him as he poked gingerly around the healing sores. “…This is definitely healing faster now.” He said, after a moment, and released her hand back into her custody. “I think you should probably still keep it covered, but maybe in a few days we can stop bandaging this.” She hummed with agreement, and he helped her back into her various layers, fastening his cloak around her shoulders last. “…How’s the hand doing?” He asked, eventually, and she made a mock-cheerful face at him.

“Just great.” She expressed, lightly. “I do so love having my whole hand go numb and prickly.”

“Pins-and-needles?”

“Pins-and-needles.” She confirmed. “Like you wouldn’t believe.”

Tentatively, Ezran extended a hand. When Rayla only rolled her eyes at him and didn’t move to dissuade him, he touched her wrist and immediately snatched his fingers back, grimacing. “Oh, ugh.” He grumbled, shaking his own left hand to disperse the phantom sensations. “It only hurts a little but somehow it’s so…” he searched for a word.

“Annoying?” Rayla suggested. “Infuriating? Impossible to ignore?”

“All of that.” He agreed, with another disgruntled flick of his fingers. “Please let that stop soon.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” Her voice was very dry.

“…On the bright side, it means your hand’s getting better blood flow?” Callum offered. He had a thought about that blood flow, and improving circulation in general, and fidgeted a little. “And. Uh, about that…” He trailed off, and fidgeted some more as she looked at him, then at her hand, and then seemed to realise.

“Oh, right.” She recognised, sounding disgruntled. She eyed him side-long for a few moments, as if she didn’t quite want to look at him directly, then huffed and thrust out her hand. “Go on, then.”

Feeling vaguely flustered again, Callum took her hand between his own, and started with the more embarrassing part of the ever-more-established Rayla Wound Care Routine.

It…did not exactly go like the other times had.

Twice, he’d done her hand-massage when she was drugged and placid, feeling neither pain nor embarrassment from the whole affair. Once, it had plainly hurt her, and she’d felt awkward enough about the whole thing to retreat from the camp for a good while. Now…well, it didn’t actually seem to hurt, per se, but-

“Hhh,” She expressed, yet again, an agitated hissing noise that puffed out as he pressed at the hand. Her fingers twitched agitatedly in his hands, as though trying to shake off an unpleasant sensation. “Urgh.” Was the next noise, again as he pressed on the hand, her face twitching in its comical grimace, and in the next moment she made a sound half-way between frustration and disgust. She’d been doing much the same thing since the start, and…honestly, given how much it didn’t cause her pain, it was actually sort of funny.

“You alright there?” He asked, lips twitching, as she snarled incoherently at him.

“Ugh ugh ugh ugh ugh,” She replied, eloquently, twitching all-over every time he pressed on the evidently tortuously numb and prickly hand. Ezran was giggling quietly in the background, and had been for several minutes. “I hate pins-and-needles. This is the worst.” Another twitch. “Hhhh,” she added, expressively, as he moved his thumb again.

“I thought horn-ache was the worst?” He offered, amused, and she made a very twitchy face at him.

“They’re both the worst.” She complained, and kept on along that vein for the following minute, until the pins-and-needles apparently started to dissipate a bit. It seemed sensible to keep up the hand-massage until her circulation improved enough that the numbness and prickling left, so he did, and eventually she subsided from her bristling, aggravated posture into something more normal.

Then, unfortunately, it did start to hurt. He noted this worriedly as the way she flinched became something more familiar. “Is it okay?” He asked, anxiously, and she made a sour face at him this time.

“Sore.” She answered, vaguely. “It’s alright.”

Reluctantly, he took her at her word, and kept at it until she pronounced all the lingering pins-and-needles gone, and her hand only a little bit numb. “The colour’s better.” He observed, when he was done, noting that the shade of the purple had indeed lightened a bit. “I guess we’ll just have to keep an eye out for your arm swelling again, if that happens like it did last time.”

“Maybe.” Rayla agreed, though she sounded dubious. “At least I don’t have to travel after it this time. My arm’s got the whole night to do…whatever.”

At the word ‘night’, Callum looked out into the storm again, brows furrowed. It was definitely getting darker, but the degree of dark was hard to judge when the storm was so starkly white. “I don’t even know how late it is.” He admitted, after a moment.

She stilled for a moment in that way he was coming to recognise as her checking the moon. “…Bout half six, I think.” She pronounced, after she was done judging. “Still a while to go before it’s dark.”

“When’s best to go to bed, do you think?” Callum asked, and she shrugged.

“Depends on you, really.” She said. “You’ve got first watch, so either way, you probably need to be up till maybe one in the morning, since it’s the dark hours we need to be most careful about. Me and Ez could really go to sleep whenever we want.”

“You should do that.” He said, immediately. “You both need all the rest you can get. Especially you, Rayla, since you’re injured and have to wake up in the middle of the night.”

She rolled her eyes at him. So did Ezran. It made them look uncannily like the siblings they’d claimed each other as. “Give it another hour, at least.” Rayla told him. “We can brew up some more stupid pine tea. It’ll help the hunger a bit.”

His stomach, discontentedly, chose that moment to rumble. “Yeah, okay.” He accepted, and went for the ever-growing store of needles.

They sat by the fire talking idly as the tea brewed, and then as they drank it, and it did make the hunger feel a little less immediate. Then, finally, Rayla pronounced it about the right time, and she and Ezran adjourned to the tent-layers. It was a little weird, to watch them bedding down for the night, while he was to stay awake.

“Night, Callum.” Ezran said, ensconcing himself with the egg and Bait hugged to his middle. Rayla was folding herself carefully onto the ground, wincing as she did so, undoubtedly pressing very uncomfortably against her livid bruising. She was still wearing his cloak, as though she’d forgotten about it. He was hardly about to remind her. “Night, Rayla.”

“…Night.” She returned, after a moment, looking vaguely embarrassed about it. Her eyes slid to Callum for a moment.

He offered a smile. “Sleep well?”

Her ears moved, and she ducked her head a little. With a murmur of assent, she tucked herself into the tent-layers until she was almost entirely obscured. Ezran, similarly, disappeared almost completely from sight, with only the puff of his hair and the glow of the dragon-egg emerging from the tent.

Feeling more than slightly strange about it, Callum lingered quietly by the fireside as everyone else fell asleep.

 ---

End chapter.

 Notes:

The timing of events during the thundersnow is pretty delicate, so there’s likely to be some weird chapter lengths for a while. Next chapter and the one after might well be a lot shorter than usual. Depends on how I break the events down.

I was extremely out-of-fandom when I wrote most of this chapter, so I have very little idea how good it is. It didn’t block me, but I was so uninspired for the majority of it that I don’t have a good sense of the emotions in it.

Go here to read the first PIAJ Q&A, a compilation of answered questions received after last chapter. From now on, I’ll be answering all piaj-related asks on tumblr in this fashion, and probably several from ao3 too, though I’ll still reply to comments. There will likely be another Q&A in the aftermath of this chapter, if/when I get enough questions.

Timeline: Chapter takes place on day 11 since start of canon. Earlier on the same day, the kids found their shelter from the storm, and the Healer Sarli encountered a new patient.

So! The worldbuilding notes:

 Camping etc

Drinking hot water is a good way to help stay warm during extreme weather conditions, especially given boiling it isn’t going to make the fire any colder. Just another way to capture the exothermic waste heat of a burning campfire.

You do indeed gut birds by pulling their innards out through their butts. (though technically speaking a cloaca is more than a butt, but the butt does open out into it, so close enough for meat preparation work.)

In this chapter, Rayla doesn’t quite get properly hypothermic, but she wasn’t far off either, and was experiencing early symptoms. It was very risky of her.

Mid-watch is absolutely the worst watch as far as getting decent sleep goes, because you don’t sleep for long before your sleep is interrupted, and when you’re done you have to contend with getting back to sleep again. Also it’s super hard to wake up in the middle of the night. Everyone hates mid-watch, it’s the absolute worst, and naturally Rayla didn’t tell the boys this because she (probably correctly) assumed that one of them would try to do it instead.

Lightning mechanics

/“We’re under a rock ceiling, with half a mountain on top of us.” He reasoned, after a moment. “I bet lightning can’t get us through there.”/ hahahaha wrong. Lightning can absolutely strike through rock and into caves. In fact, if lightning can go through a cave it will, because air is the path of least resistance in comparison to rock, so the empty spaces of air represented by caves are not necessarily safe during a thunderstorm.

 Skywing nomads

One of the three recognised types of Skywing society is that of the nomads. The clans vary in culture, size, and range, but roam most of Xadia. The vast majority utilise Amblers as clanmounts, with generally no more than one or two per clan. The nomads in the Midnight Desert, of the clan Selari, are unusual in that they are settled for the majority of the year, and only fairly recently re-acquired an Ambler. The Skywing nomadic population as a whole is estimated at around 29,400 for the entirety of Xadia, distributed among 129 known clans and six domi.

Rayla has only ever been exposed to Clan Selari (e domus Favoni) and has had no other contact with Skywing elves. As such, her knowledge of them and the nomads as a whole is very limited.

Explanations on the domi and how the migratory tendencies of Amblers shape nomad culture will be saved for another time.

 Moondust

A drug taken by most Moonshadow elves to dull their connection to the Moon. As many functions of their bodies are at the whims of fluctuations in lunar magic, this makes many aspects of a Moonshadow elf’s life more stable and predictable, eliminating the worst of the mood swings associated with lunar highs and lows, as well as the most dramatic effects of New and Full Moon. As elven fertility is tied to primal magic, moondust is also a very reliable contraceptive, and halts menstruation for any elves who experience it. (Shout-out to x, who guessed that contraception was an element of whatever was going on with Rayla)

Higher doses are administered to elves who are expected to need to operate under dangerous conditions during lunar extremes. The most highly-drugged Moonshadow elves tend to be the deep cover operatives, but all soldiers and assassins will operate under higher-than-average dosage. Some spies operating in isolated conditions may take reduced doses or forgo it entirely, but this is rare. The likeliest elves to completely forsake moondust are the Moon-mages, as the drug dulls the sensitivity of their connection as well as the power. Many Moon-mages become more adept at handling the lunar highs over time by venting enormous amounts of magic via spells.

Moondust is taken weekly, and is measured in drams. For someone of Rayla’s weight and size, one dram would be a low to moderate dose, four a high dose, seven a very high dose, and ten the maximum safe dosage. Moondust is not addictive, but does in a sense have withdrawal effects. Rayla’s extra strength of late is in part due to this, and in part just because she isn’t used to how strong an unmedicated Moonshadow elf is.

The more powerful an elf’s inherent arcanum, the stronger a dose they require each week. This dosage is usually calibrated during puberty, when an elf first begins taking the drug.

 Full Moon

I’ll not be going into much detail about this here, because the story is going to do that marvellously when the time comes, but basically: unmedicated Moonshadow elves at Full Moon are absolutely where the word ‘moonstruck’ came from, and for very good reason.

Even medicated with moondust, Moonshadow elves are not legally able to make binding agreements during the Full Moon, as they are not considered of sound mind. It is considered highly inappropriate to start anything important or make important decisions about anything while under the influence. The colloquial term ‘Full-Moon promise’ likely stems from this, referring to an impulse promise or decision that one will likely regret or renege on when sober.

 The Deep-Sleeper

An exceptionally large, terrifying sea-beast thought by most of the citizenry in the Pentarchy to be either extinct or mythical. Many sailors tend to disagree with this assessment, but being a superstitious lot, they aren’t typically taken seriously. Historically, the Deep-Sleeper is considered remarkable as it is the only large, terrifying sea-beast that lives in relatively shallow waters; it never ventures far beyond the continental shelf. Stories tend to emphasise that it only appears on the darkest, most terrifying nights. Given most people don’t actually think it exists, accounts of its appearance vary, but everything agrees that it has glowy tendrils and many, many teeth.

[consumedkings-archive]

All 5s for Miss Arden who is she queen give us the deets xoxo

dove!!! hello!!! thank u for the ask about my girl!! ilu ;-; partially under the cut for mentions infertility, and also for length, because i don’t know how to shut up ♡

detailed oc questions!

5. do they have any siblings? what’s their names? what is their relationship with them? has their relationship changed since they were kids to adults?

arden has multiple siblings, but she has no idea who they are, where they are, what they’re like as people, or even how many she has. she was adopted at two years old by a wealthy couple in new york, and the adoption was such that the parents did not want to be located or found later, so their names and information are unknown to her. not that she’s ever had any desire to find them!

10. do they like children? do children like them? do they have or want any children? what would they be like as a parent? or as a godparent/babysitter/etc?

she loves children. kids are the fucking coolest, man. they ask a lot of questions, and arden is so full of facts and knowledge that she almost always has an answer, but most importantly she really loves how free of the inhibitions of adulthood children are!! they’ll put pretty much anything in their mouths!! they almost all love animals unconditionally!!! that shit rocks!!

she definitely wants to have her own children. in her pre/no cult au i have for her with jacob, they’re together for quite a while before they decide they want to try for kids, which ends up being an incredibly long and arduous process where arden has to go through several instances of ivf--and even then the doctors are still concerned that it would possibly come down to choosing between arden and baby. they do have!! a baby though!! safely and without any further complications, and arden is probably exactly the kind of mother people would expect: loving, patient, doting. she’s much less strict than jacob is but puts a heavy emphasis on being fully and thoroughly educated.

15. are they good at cooking? do they enjoy it? what do others think of their cooking?

arden’s a great cook! or, at least in the sense that her food always tastes good. her brain tends to vibrate at a different frequency most all the time from the people she spends time with, and so it often looks like she’s a hurricane just busting through the kitchen when she’s cooking, always focused on the task at hand rather than keeping things clean and tidy as she cooks. it’s absolute chaos. but the food does end up tasting good, and arden enjoys it--she loves the catharsis of cooking, lol.

20. do they like musicals? music in general? what do they do when they’re favourite song comes?

while she has no particular love for musicals, arden does have a very funny love for music. it’s like, not what most people who like music feel (when you play music, it reinforces the part of your brain that does math, which arden thinks is very cool) and when her favorite song comes on she stops literally everything she’s doing to listen and enjoy it.

(and her favorite song is black hole sun by soundgarden)

25.  what do they find funny? do they have a good sense of humour? are they funny themselves?

people. arden finds people funny. she thinks humans are an incredibly funny collection of creatures, diverse and complex and funny, and i think sometimes that makes her humour translate as like...a little more dark? she’s usually pretty matter of fact and almost never says something she doesn’t mean, which means that her humour tends to focus on things that are real and tangible and accurate and then using it to make a point. you know, like “find the thing that you don’t like about you and then make a joke out of it” kind of humour, but without the malicious intent--she’s real big on acknowledging and accepting our personal faults and doesn’t see anything wrong with noticing them in other people too.

30. do they exercise? regularly? or only when forced? what do they act like pre-work out and post-work out?

she does exercise, and regularly! arden is exceptionally fit. she’s pretty much all wiry muscle and leg. she spent a long time in high school and college not taking very good care of her body and then pushing it to its limits to see how far she could go, and that inevitably ended up impacting her ability to have children. now, she takes meticulous care of her body, and that includes regularly working out in healthy ways. pre and post work out arden are pretty much exactly the same as regular arden, except that she might seem a bit more relaxed post-work out.

35. what’s their guilty pleasure? what is their totally unguilty pleasure?

guilty pleasure would be buying notebooks. arden has a vast and unending collection of notebooks (which are empty), and which she insists she’s going to fill one day with all of her thoughts (which are many), and they fill up a solid two shelves on her bookshelf. somewhere deep down i think she knows that she will never have the time nor the ability to sit still long enough to actually write something down in them, beyond using them for scrap paper, and there are plenty of times where jacob has tried to get her to let go of some of them, but you know. 

unguilty pleasure would definitely be doing shit at the vet clinic for free. the staff like to refer to her as “doctor write-off” because she just can’t stand to see an animal come in needing help and their people can’t pay for it.

40. do they like energy drinks? coffee? sugary food? or can they naturally stay awake and alert?

arden is that really annoying person who drinks one (1) cup of coffee and then she’s fine. she’s meticulous about her circadian rhythm and sleep cycles, which means she’s almost always rested. because her brain runs at 100 mph, energy drinks/too much coffee/sugary foods can make her feel unbearably jittery--though she does enjoy a good slice of cheesecake now and then.

45. how do other people see them? is it similar to how they see themselves?

arden has almost no filter, and i think that makes it so that people’s impression of her is usually pretty accurate to exactly how she is--and i think most of the time, people think she’s a little odd. she’s quite smart and will often try to pace herself and her thoughts for other people, so that she’s not running ahead of them five or six tangents down the road, but this is a habit that later jacob tries to break her of--because she’s smart, she shouldn’t have to dumb herself down for people--and this usually translates in conversation that she isn’t actually paying attention, which just isn’t true. she is paying attention, she’s just also thinking, and that means her brain is somewhere way past where the conversation is, currently.

but she’s also an exceptionally warm person, in the kind of straightforward, matter-of-fact way. she has almost no tolerance for people making mistakes on her watch, but she’s never vicious about it--not until someone’s really pushed her.

50.  if they could only take one bag of stuff somewhere with them: what would they pack? what do they consider their essentials?

books books books! arden will read through books over and over and not get tired of them. endless entertainment. but also, books about subjects she doesn’t know very much about--like architecture, she loves learning about architecture and design. she can’t fit them in the bag but she’d take castor and pollux, the dogs, of course; wherever she goes they go!

[killmebutneverinsultme2]

Rules for mobile (Pinned Post)

The Code

Success. I’ve sufficiently pestered the wench to make me a blog, much to the cost of a certain behorned mischief god whose presence I must share. Follow the rules below, and there’ll be smooth sailin’, savvy?

This be an exceptionally selective blog. I was me mun’s first ever muse yonks back and I’ve pestered her into writing me again, BUT, she’s horribly pressed for time. Partners will likely be very few, else ones doubling up with Loki’s. Anyone is welcome to approach and enquire, but she and I will be leaning toward those either from me own universe or crossovers with which she’s highly familiar and characters in whom she’s especially interested. Ye have been warned.

Replies are like to be slow, up to a few weeks at most.

Partners must be 18+. Various themes of an adult nature may be found here. Sexual things will be tagged ‘#filthy pirate’ with whatever level/variety of sin I deem them. More details below.

Behave. There shall be no rudeness, no passive aggression, no hate, no censorship or generally being a twit. Do I make meself clear?

The Code - Extended (below the cut)

Hi, guys. I’m Pirate (oddly known as this long before I made Jack a tumblr). Here are my more detailed rules and guidelines for writing with me on this blog, though the absolute basics are at the top as, honestly, it’s never easy to remember everyone’s requirements.

Jack is a sideblog. If you’re being followed by a benevolentgodloki that means I’m following you back. I don’t need us to be mutuals (both following each other) for us to write together, but there is a greater chance of us having a partnership if we’re letting each other know we’re interested.

How I Roll

I note myself as ‘highly selective’. This isn’t to be an elitist bugger, it’s because we all only have a limited amount of time we can put in. I want to write what I enjoy with people I enjoy. I am married with two attention-seeking cats, two jobs, a slow-brewing intended writing career and a video game addiction.

Asks/Memes - I will usually answer these no matter who they are from but I may or may not turn them into a thread I intend to keep. Some memes are very much designed to be something that continues so context can be key. If you would like to know in advance whether I intend to answer and/or keep something, please do pop me a message and I will be kind and honest.

My Threads - While Jack’s blog is still exciting and new, I’m being a bit all over the place with who and what I reply to depending on which way Jack’s.. compass.. is pointing. I do have a rolling turn order that I adhere to (to the point that I can genuinely tell you who is next at any given moment) but it’s all piled in with Loki’s threads, meaning I can take a few weeks to get round everything. Every partner gets one of their threads answered within that ‘round’ and then I go round again. However, when I’m really into something/finding something easy to pop back, I treat myself to spamming certain threads or partners at my whim. I use rpthreadtracker.com to maintain what I have. 

I will remind partners of threads that have not been replied to for more than three months. If I do not do this, I have either forgotten/lost it myself, I’m not too fussed about keeping it at that stage, or you were absent for a long period of time. 

My Style - I will write in both past or present tense depending on partner preference. My default is past but I like either. Please kick me if I screw up and write the wrong one. I prefer using regular size font but I will make mine small on replies to people who use the smaller so that it looks neat. I will often match partners’ lengths and some formatting details e.g. bolding dialogue, but I struggle with doing novella-length posts for reasons below.

I have a bugbear to admit about role-play. What we call splicing. A good half of my partners write this way so I’m not about to tell everyone to stop but if you’re someone who does this, you will occasionally run into some frustrations when writing with me. ‘Splicing’ is when you retrospectively write dialogue or actions as having previously happened during your partner’s last post. These things are fine when they’re passive i.e. your character muttered them, thought them or you were writing what your character was doing at the time because that’s pretty much essential. The trouble comes usually when my characters talk a lot/ask rhetorical questions and partners choose to answer every single one despite the fact my character carried on talking. I know it’s an ass that I have talkative muses and you really want to respond to every point/get a word in, but putting words and actions into the past effectively godmods my muse into accepting they happened. If you feel your muse would have full-on interjected midway through their ramble, please ask me to edit my post/stop it at that point. Otherwise if you do prefer to splice, my muse will only respond to whatever it is your character did or said last in their post. This is one of the reasons I can’t write novella, because often there is only so much you can write before you’re stepping into the territory of changing what went before and not allowing your partner to do anything about it.

TL;DR don’t ever worry about your post being too short for me. If it’s one sentence long but it’s because something fast-paced is happening, I won’t be miffed.

Shipping! - no not that kind of ship, Jack. I love shipping. Ships all around. Let’s face it, romance can be one of the most exciting reasons we bother writing. I am open to a lot of ships for Jack, practically all of them. Yes, even that one. I will do downright nasty, toxic, horrible stuff, savvy? It’s fiction and Jack is a great indulgence for bad things happening to him as much as good. That said, of course don’t force something on him without prior agreement between us. Well, I mean, your muse can try and accost him and see what he does, just don’t expect him to definitely reciprocate. Jack and I are bi/pansexual. We’re open to everything. I will admit a heavy lean toward m/m but, that said, Jack is extremely fond of the ladies, more so than Loki. I am very into Sparrington especially.

Not Safe For Ye Olde Work

Sliding down from the above topic, I enjoy the occasional smutting. It is not a requirement from my partners. In fact, I’m warming very much to fading to black depending on the context/mood/if things feel a bit repetitive. I do feel a touch more comfortable with partners who don’t need that boundary but as I’ve recently figured ‘if it needs a cut, then it’s smut’ I know when to skip on.

Saucy material will go under cuts/Read More’s and be tagged as mentioned above with ‘filthy pirate’. Additional tags will be based on the citrus scale: ‘lime’ for general grabbing, ‘lemon’ for full on sexual content and ‘grapefruit’ if things get extra kinky. I will tag things such as ‘rape tw’ or ‘noncon tw’ or ‘dubcon tw’ where necessary. Please blacklist any or all of these at your leisure, or search them if you fancy :U I do NOT tag these as ‘ns.fw’ because tumblr just completely hides them from being searchable which is useless for my partners.

OC’s - Due to my time constraints I am extremely picky when it comes to OC’s. This is a good fandom for well-thought-out muses and I know firsthand how hard it is to make headway as an OC in the RP world. However, I also understand that for people like me, I want to dip in on this site to mostly play with the characters and worlds I’m really absorbed in and ship my weaselly black guts out. Some people have more time than others to really give your OCs the time and love they deserve. Unless I’ve played with you a long time and I really like the cut of your and your muse’s jib, it’s very unlikely I’ll bite. Apologies! The same goes for crossover muses from fandoms I’m unfamiliar with, but I will let you know if that’s the case.

Limits

Threads - I don’t have a strict limit on how many to have per person but please bear in mind that the more of these you have with me the longer it will take me to get to a particular one (unless I’m spamming it back and forth). This is more a mun/muse context how many I accept.

Exclusives/mains - I don’t do these although I may consider having a maximum of 3 or 4 of one muse depending on activity levels and to ensure plots don’t get mixed up or attention feel unfairly balanced.

Triggers/squicks - I don’t like body horror e.g. graphic detail of squishy bits having bad things happen to them. I’m writing a pirate so there’s absolutely allowed to be elements of torture/violence, just don’t stab him in the eye or chop bits off him. One torture-related thing sends me into a complete freakout which I’ll discuss with partners if we’re doing a thread of that ilk as needed. Kink-wise I’m not into mpreg, A/B/O or infantilism or toilet things. Just ask me/Jack if you’re after something XD

Who I Am/What I Need From You

Being yourself is the most important thing and I promise I am not a scary person (usually). We’re only human and it’s natural that we’ll get along better with some rather than others. This is more to give you a gist of the sort of person I am and who I gel with best.

So I’m a shy hermit at the best of times. I’m trying to be better at engaging and enthusing with partners over our threads because I realise more than ever this does keep things alive and make for a more enjoyable experience. I’m not always great at it. I work best with people who are patient and don’t worry too much on what I think of them and their writing, with people who are happy to keep threads going for the longhaul rather than keep dropping everything before I’ve had the time to get to the next post, and most especially people who accept that fiction =/= reality. I do need a certain level of quality, which doesn’t always mean perfect grammar, but it must be coherent, fun and creative. I like a relaxed approach, sharing mutual enjoyment in silly fantasy world sandboxes as escapism from (and exploration of) this complicated world we live in.

If you managed to read all of this, have a drink (even if it’s water). You’re a diamond. 

Pirate xxx

[girls-scenarios]

I’ve Got Intentions

Idol: Tzuyu (Twice)

Prompt: CEO tzuyu x secretary fem reader ? Where tzuyu is arrogant to the reader until one day mina flirts with her and tzuyu starts to flirt more and try to get the reader attention ? They get together at the end.. Bit of smut at the end is possible ;)

Writer: Admin Kiwi

A/N: Honestly this isn't usually my type of thing to write, so I'm really sorry this took so long. Also I didn’t really know how to tag this since Tumblr is weird about stuff now so I hope the read more works to save anyone not wanting to read smut- But hopefully it came out well?

Warnings: Some cursing, Tzuyu is bad at feelings, mentions of smut, a little actual smut at the end but not in too much detail.

Meetings, conferences, phone calls, brand deals, and piles of business cards that littered a drawer in her exceptionally large desk. That was what Tzuyu’s work life consisted of. As the CEO of a successful company, she was almost always busy with something, having to continue proving that, even as young as she was, she knew what she was doing.

It all paid off though. Her closet was full of designer clothes and accessories, she owned a giant penthouse with a huge, comfortable bed, she ate only the best foods and owned only the newest technologies. She always flew first class and had a whole list of contacts to call if she needed anything done for her.

Despite all the work, she was on top of the world. And she loved it.

“Good morning, Tzuyu,” Mina said, greeting her as she walked into the office. The head accountant had a stack of papers in one hand and a coffee in the other, and her hair pulled back into a neat ponytail, and Tzuyu smiled when she saw her.

“Good morning, Mina. Any news?” The two girls had known each other since high school, and it was always nice to have her around. She was the only person who talked to Tzuyu as a friend rather than a boss or a business partner, and the younger girl appreciated that.

“Stocks have gone up and we’re still on a roll. It looks like we’re going to have yet another incredible year.” The smile on Tzuyu’s face widened and she gave Mina a friendly pat on the shoulder.

“That’s what I love to hear. Thanks for your hard work.” Footsteps sounded behind her, and she raised her eyebrows, turning around to see you approaching her, looking as timid as always.

“Um, good morning-.”

“Did you get together the papers for my meeting this afternoon like I asked yesterday? Also, I'm going to be needing some coffee.” You gave her a little smile and nodded quickly.

“Yes ma’am, right away.” As you turned on your heel and fast walked away, Mina let out a ‘tsk’.

“You should be nicer to her, you know. She’s still new and nervous around you.”

“That’s what annoys me about her. She’s always so timid, if she’s going to make it in the business world she needs to toughen up.”

“Maybe if you were nicer to her, she’d be able to be more comfortable.” Tzuyu rolled her eyes and turned to head to her private office.

“Don’t get soft on me, Mina,” she called as she walked away, even though she knew that it wouldn't do any good. Mina was a softy, and she’d always been a sucker for a pretty face. Tzuyu, on the other hand, didn’t really care for being too friendly. She wasn’t in business to make friends or meet lovers, she was in it to make money. And she didn’t really care what her employees thought of her.

After she’d unpacked everything at her desk and looked over her schedule for the day, there was a quiet knock at the door, and she looked up to see you step in with coffee in one hand and a file in the other.

“I have the papers for your meeting today,” you said, voice still quiet and timid as you placed the file on her desk. “And here is your coffee, just the way you like it.” Eyebrows raised, she took it from you and glanced down at the markings on the side. At least you’d finally memorized her order.

“I’ll have another one of these at noon before the meeting. And be sure to bring three regular coffees for my guests.” She gave you a look over the cup, “get that?”

“Yes ma'am, of course.”

“Good. I’m also going to need you to return these calls because I don’t want to.” Your eyes widened as she handed over a notepad full of numbers. “All their voicemails are still saved so figure out what they want and take care of it.”

“Um, what if it’s important?” You took the notepad, looking flustered, and she resisted the urge to grin. You looked cute flustered and scared like that.

“I already called back everyone important, these people really don’t matter. If it’s something we can do, get it done for them. For everyone else, make up something.” You looked like you wanted to argue with her, but you just nodded your head instead. “Glad you understand. Now please close the door on your way out, I have work to do.”

It wasn’t until you were out the door that she allowed herself to smirk as she looked back at her laptop screen. You were her little plaything, the perfect way to get her stress out and start her morning. Now, she could get to work.

-

It wasn’t until noon rolled around and she stepped out of her office to head to the meeting space that she noticed it. Mina wasn’t at her desk. In fact, she was all the way across the room near the entrance, leaning over the reception desk and talking to you with that smile she always wore when she was talking to a pretty girl. Had it just been that, Tzuyu probably wouldn’t have been peeved. She would have rolled her eyes and walked away and made a mental note to give both of you more work.

The issue was that you were smiling back at her with a slight blush on your cheeks, and you looked so incredibly cute that it made her stomach twist with anger. Mina was flirting with you, and she hated it.

Gritting her teeth, she resolved to speak to Mina later and turned on her heel, trying to ignore the feelings bubbling up in her chest because she was a CEO, not a teenager, and she had work to do.

Still, when you walked into the meeting space with the tray of coffees that she’d asked you for earlier and the flush still on your cheeks, she couldn’t stop herself.

“This one is for you,” you said softly, setting her coffee down in front of her before moving away to set the tray down in the middle. She watched you as she picked up her coffee, scrutinizing the way you moved. You seemed less timid than you had that morning, and that annoyed her.

“Perfect as always,” she said, making your eyes widen.

“Really?” Now that was an expression that she was more used to. You were her plaything, not Mina’s. She didn’t bother to hide her smile as she took a sip.

“Really. That shirt looks great on you as well. You should wear that style more often.” You looked down at your shirt, a tight button-up sleeveless blouse with a low collar, and she reveled in the flush that made its way back into your cheeks.

“O-oh, thank you!”

“When my guests get here, could you be a dear and send them in?” It was code for you to leave, but a much nicer code than she usually used. You nodded and clasped your hands together, slowly backing towards the door.

“Of course, I’ll be sure to do that.”

“Good. Thank you.” Again, you nodded, that slightly nervous nod you always gave her when you didn’t know what to say, before ducking out the door. She watched you go, her eyebrows raised in amusement, before letting out a little chuckle and looking back at her laptop. There was no way she was going to lose to Mina.

-

“What’s with (Y/N) lately?” Mina’s voice rang through Tzuyu’s office, and the younger girl sighed, wishing that she’d moved her friend’s desk further away from her own, just so she wouldn’t come in and pester her while she was trying to work.

“I don’t pay you to gossip.” With a huff, Mina shoved her shoulder.

“You know you’d get bored without me. Plus, you make everyone else do most of your work. I saw you playing solitaire in here yesterday.” Well, it was true. Most of Tzuyu’s work got handed off to other people. As the CEO, her job was mostly to talk to other bigwigs from potential partners and to be a face to the media. Still, she didn’t appreciate Mina’s tone.

“I can still fire you, you know.”

“Yeah, yeah. But where else are you going to find someone who knows the finances for this company like I do?” With a sigh, Tzuyu looked away from her laptop (where she had been doing work, thank you) and at her best friend.

“Just gossip and get out, please.” The other girl rolled her eyes but took Tzuyu’s words as a signal to lean over her desk and repeat her earlier question.

“So, what’s up with (Y/N)?” At the mention of your name, Tzuyu glanced out her office door and towards where you stood at the copier.

“I’m not sure I get what you mean.”

“She’s been wearing exclusively one style of shirt recently. Even though it’s freezing outside today, she’s wearing a sleeveless shirt. And although I don’t mind it because she looks incredible, why did she suddenly decide to wear one type of shirt and one type of shirt only?” A grin played at the corners of Tzuyu’s lips and she looked back at her laptop. “Plus, she seems a lot happier to be here lately. Less like she thinks you’re going to serve her up for dinner one day.”

“Gross. Why would anyone get that thought about me?”

“Because you act like you don’t have emotions and hate people,” Mina pointed out, and Tzuyu couldn’t argue with that. “But your emotional constipation aside, did you say something to her? Is that why she’s been happier lately?”

“What’s it to you?”

“Tell me or I’ll send those embarrassing high school party photos in a group email to everyone in this office.”

“Fine! I’ll tell you, damn. No need to bring out the big guns.” Mina smirked, and wow, Tzuyu really hated her sometimes. How did people think she was innocent and sweet? She hung out with Nayeon too much. “I told her that the shirt she was wearing a few days ago looked good on her.” The older woman raised her eyebrows and let out a little gasp.

“Wow, Tzuyu! You can be nice to people?” Tzuyu sent her a glare, but it did nothing to deter her. “But that’s so cute, that she’s wearing the style you like just because you said something. I wonder if I told her that I like short skirts if she’d start wearing them.”

“Don’t you dare.”

“Oops, is someone jealous?”

“No. She’s just my only entertainment in this boring place and it annoys me when you try to interrupt that.”

“I’m going to ignore the fact that you’re pretending you don’t work with your best friend to instead tell you that you are, in fact, jealous.”

“No, I’m not.”

“You totally are. What if I went out there and asked her on a date?” Just the thought made Tzuyu’s blood boil, and she glowered at her best friend.

“Don’t you dare.”

“See? Babe, that’s jealousy.”

“You seriously need to stop hanging out with Nayeon. Babe? Really?”

“Stop dancing around the fact that you have feelings, Tzuyu,” Mina said, ignoring the other girls’ words of protest as she stood up and flipped her hair behind her shoulder. “Just don’t hurt her too bad, she seems like a nice girl.”

“The only person I’m going to hurt is you.”

“Oh, well, look at the time, I’ve got to go, have fun dealing with your feelings.” Had this still been high school, Tzuyu would have thrown a pen at the other girl. But this wasn’t high school, and she was a very important adult boss, so she just bit her lip, glared at her laptop once again, and made a mental note to get back at Mina later.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” A familiar voice made her jerk her head up. You stood at the door, stepping back quickly to let Mina by. “I didn’t realize you were coming out.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Mina said, giving you one of her sickeningly-sweet smiles that made Tzuyu really think about throwing that pen. “You’re too pretty for me to get upset at.” Immediately, your face flushed, and Tzuyu’s blood boiled.

“That’s enough, Mina,” she said, trying to keep her voice cool. The older girl just snickered as she stepped out the door, giving you a little wave. “(Y/N), did you have something for me?” You jumped a little before nodding and stepping forward to hold out a binder.

“Um, yes, I organized those files you asked me to do. Also, I’ve got all your meetings scheduled for next month, they’re on the physical calendar.” As she took the binder, she cocked an eyebrow. “Oh, and I added them to your virtual calendar as well, so you’ll get a reminder! And you can look them over.”

“Thank you,” she said, satisfied as she glanced through the binder before opening a drawer. “You learn fast.”

“Thank you?”

“It was a compliment.” She glanced back up at you, at your still-flushed cheeks and the small, awkward smile on your lips. And she thought of the smile on Mina’s face as she’d talked to you. “Did you bring a lunch today?” Your eyebrows furrowed and you processed her question before your eyes widened.

“I- No, actually, I didn’t have time to pack one so I’ll probably go down to the convenience store during lunch-.”

“Come to lunch with me.” Your mouth dropped open for a second before you snapped it closed.

“Really?”

“Yes. My lunch starts at noon today so yours does now too. Be ready.” Your eyes drifted from her face to the binder and then back again before you gave her a little nod.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Great. Thank you for your time.”

“Of course.” She watched you go, and her eyes took in your figure, highlighted by that shirt she liked on you so much. Again, a smirk made its way onto her face and she looked back down at the work email that had gone forgotten. Lunch was going to be interesting.

When noon rolled around, she was ready. Purse in hand, she nodded at some of her employees as she made her way over to the reception desk, where you sat, furiously typing away at your keyboard. She just watched you type for a few minutes, loving that little furrow in your eyebrows and the frustration in your brow, before clearing her throat.

“Ready for lunch?” You jumped, and she smiled.

“Oh! I’m sorry, I got so wrapped up in this,” you said, quickly moving to grab the mouse and save your work. “Let me just grab my jacket and purse-.”

“My treat, no need to get your purse.” There was a waver in your eyes, but you swallowed and grabbed your jacket, slipping into it as quickly as you could.

“Okay, in that case, I’m ready.”

You didn’t ask where she was taking you until she approached her car with you right behind her.

“It’s somewhere I like to go for lunch,” she said, unlocking the car and gesturing for you to climb into the passenger’s seat. “Don’t worry, we’ll be back in time.” You didn’t really seem to believe her, licking your lips nervously, but you climbed in anyways.

“This is a really nice car,” you said, looking around in awe as you buckled in and she started the car.

“My Tesla is a beauty, isn’t it?” Your lips were parted as you stared, and she grinned, loving the expression on your face as she pulled out of the parking garage. She usually didn’t care for showing off to people, or care for people in general, but somehow, showing off to you made her excited.

The restaurant wasn’t far away, and as soon as Tzuyu stepped in, the boy behind the host desk grabbed two menus.

“The normal place, please.”

“Of course. Right this way.” When she glanced back at you, you were biting your lip, eyes wide.

“Do you usually come here for lunch?” The place wasn’t as fancy as other places Tzuyu had eaten, but it was more upscale with its sleek modern interior and dim lighting.

“Not always. But it is my favorite lunch spot.” The boy placed the menus down on Tzuyu’s usual table, a spot more secluded, away from other customers, and she slid into one side of the booth. After a slight hesitation, you sat down across from her, giving the boy a small, shy smile as he told you the server would be with you shortly.

“It’s really nice.”

“I’m glad you like it,” she said, opening the menu and scanning through the items. She already knew what she was probably going to have but looking at the specials wouldn’t hurt. “Order whatever you want.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure.” She gave you a look over her menu. “Take it as a thank you for all the hard work you do.”

“Okay,” you squeaked out, and she couldn’t help herself: she smiled. You were just too cute when you were flustered.

After all the food had been ordered and the menus were gone, you twisted your hands together and glanced up at her.

“Why did you invite me to lunch today?” She raised her eyebrows and took a dainty sip of her water before answering.

“Must I have a reason?”

“Well, I’ve just.... Never seen you go to lunch with anyone other than clients before. I thought maybe you wanted to talk about something work-related.” She shook her head and let herself smile again.

“I invited you with me because I wanted to. I thought it might be nice to talk to you a little more.” Your cheeks flushed, and you glanced down at the table, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear.

“O-oh.”

“Also, I wanted to tell you that you look nice today. I love the shirt.”

“Thank you!” You were flustered, biting your lip and smiling shyly, and she found herself wanting to lean across and kiss you until you were breathless. She wasn’t going to, though. Not yet, at least.

“So, tell me some things about yourself, (Y/N). I want to know.”

The rest of the lunch went smoothly, with the food coming out quickly and you telling her more about yourself in a soft voice, giving her the same smile you’d given Mina before, and she found herself wishing that the two of you wouldn’t have to go back to work. But unfortunately, time was ticking, and soon the lunch was over, and the two of you were back in the office.

“Thank you for the food,” you said as the two of you approached your desk, and she gave you a little smile.

“Anytime. Thank you for coming to lunch with me.” People were probably looking, and they might talk later, but Tzuyu didn’t really care as she walked back into her office, a satisfied smile on her face. She was definitely going to do this with you more often.

-

Soon, lunch became a habit for the two of you, and she found herself talking to you much more than usual. She was still forward and a little rude, because she enjoyed the flustered look you got on whenever she was intimidating, but she also liked the sweet smile you gave her when she said something nice. She also found herself thinking about your lips a little more than she should, but she tried not to read too much into it.

That is, until Mina brought it up.

“What are your intentions with (Y/N)?” The two girls were at Tzuyu’s house, sitting on the couch as the credits rolled for the last episode of the crime series they’d recently invested in. Her mind still stuck on the chilling contents of the last episode, she wrinkled her nose and shot her best friend with an incredulous look.

“What are you implying?” Rolling her eyes, Mina turned to face Tzuyu, reaching over to turn of the tv at the same time.

“Get your mind off crime and into the real world for a moment. You’d been spending an awful lot of time with your secretary lately.” It took a moment for Mina’s words to process, and Tzuyu slowly put down her bowl of popcorn, raising her eyebrows.

“Is that a bad thing? I’m just getting to know my employee better.”

“We both know that isn’t the only reason you’re getting closer to her. I’ve seen the way you check her out.” Okay, maybe Mina was right. Tzuyu had been checking you out a lot lately. And thinking a lot about kissing you. And teasing you a little more than usual. But that didn’t mean anything.

“She’s cute when she’s flustered.” The older girl didn’t look impressed.

“I hope you’re not just playing with her. I think she’s into you, and it would be pretty shitty of you to just lead her on. It would also be weird to work with someone you played with and then dumped so you should probably watch yourself.” Tzuyu stared at the now-blank tv, running Mina’s words over in her mind. She was playing with you, a little bit, she admitted it. But it wasn’t like she didn’t want you. And maybe there was a little nagging feeling at the back of her mind that she didn’t want to put words to because she hadn’t felt it since she was in high school and fell for the pretty cheerleader who turned out to be straight.

“Don’t worry, I’m not that much of an asshole.”

“I would hope not.” Mina stood up and stretched, letting out a yawn. “Anyway, I’d better get going. I told Chaeyoung I’d go over to her place tonight.”

“You always choose getting laid by your girlfriend over me,” Tzuyu said, letting out a dramatic sigh and leaning back into her couch. The older girl rolled her eyes and kicked her gently in the knee.

“That is such a lie. But maybe you could start getting laid by a girlfriend if you stopped closing everyone out of your life and decided to make (Y/N) yours. It’s something to think about.” Mina slipped into her jacket and stepped away, giving Tzuyu a little wave. “Goodnight, loser.”

“You’re so fired.”

“You can’t fire me, we’re off the clock. Try again next time babe.” Tzuyu watched as Mina waltzed away and rolled her eyes, reaching over to turn the tv back on in hopes of drowning out the feelings that had suddenly bombarded her brain. But she couldn’t focus on the crime unfolding on the screen, mind wandering back to your lips and you smile and the way your ears turned red when you were embarrassed. The thought of kissing you breathless and pinning you against the wall ran through her mind, and she closed her eyes, trying to ignore the twist in her stomach.

Maybe she did have some feelings for you.

-

As the weekend rolled to a close and Monday came once again, Tzuyu dealt with her newfound feelings like she always did: by throwing herself completely into her work. It worked out, because a new deal had just rolled through and she had plenty of things to do even after handing out work to her employees, so she ignored the little bell of reason in the back of her head telling her to deal with things now and let the work completely submerge her.

Minutes turned into hours, and the hours began to tick by until everyone had left the office and the sun had set, leaving Tzuyu typing away at her laptop under the shitty indoor lighting, ignoring the bright night view of the city out the window behind her.

As she pressed send on the last email of the day, her eyes moved down to the corner of her screen and she blinked, shocked by herself. When had it gotten so late?

Now that she’d broken the spell she’d put over herself that morning, the pain in her back began evident and she let out a little groan, stretching out her arms. She should probably go home, but there were still things to do.... With every new deal or new step up came a whole new load of stress, and she could feel it thrumming through her bloodstream as she stood up to stretch better.

That was when she noticed the light on outside her office. Narrowing her eyebrows, she glanced again at the time. Everyone should have gone home already. She knew for a fact that Mina had taken off, and she was usually the only one to stay with her and work. So, who?

She closed her laptop and stepped out. There you sat, at the reception desk, your lamp on, squinting at the screen with your hair down as your fingers flew across your keyboard. Tzuyu’s mouth dropped open. She’d never had a secretary stay late like this before, no matter how much work she’d asked for them to do.

It seemed like you hadn’t realized she was there, still focused on your work, so she cleared her throat as she walked up.

“(Y/N)? What are you still doing here?” You jumped, and Tzuyu was reminiscent of the first time she’d ever taken you out to lunch as you looked up at her with those big eyes of yours. Maybe it was because she was so stressed, or so tired, but seeing you with your hair down and lips slightly parted made her stomach twist.

“Ah, I had so much work to do and you were still working too, so I thought it would be best if I continued to work. It wouldn’t be fair to me if I left before you did and didn’t even finish the things you’d given me to do today.” You glanced down at the clock on your desk and rubbed the back of your neck. “I honestly didn’t even realize that it had gotten this late.” The air seemed to have gotten thicker somehow, as the work that had been on Tzuyu’s brain suddenly vanished and all she could think of was you. Yeah, she had feelings. Lots of them.

“That’s. Really admirable, actually. You could have gone home.” You bit your lip, and Tzuyu stared for a moment too long.

“I didn’t want to leave you alone.” She swallowed. Glanced from your shirt (the one she loved on you) to your lips and then up to your eyes. And there was something in them that made a voice in her head say, “go for it”.

“(Y/N), you’re really something else.” Your cheeks bloomed pink as you clicked save on the document you were working on.

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

“A good thing, I think.” You tilted your head, and god, you were so cute and so sexy at the same time, and she just couldn’t take it anymore. “It made me fall for you.” Your entire face flushed red, up to the tips of your ears, and your eyes widened, hands stalling from where they’d been fidgeting with a pen.

“Really?” Your voice was so soft, she wouldn’t have heard it had she not been listening.

“Really. You’ve been driving me crazy, (Y/N).” She watched you swallow and licked her lips. “And I really just want to kiss you. Is that okay.” You stalled for a moment, glancing around.

“Is that okay? To do... here?” Maybe you weren’t as precious and innocent as Mina had thought. A smile spread across Tzuyu’s lips.

“I turned off the camera in my office.” Again, you paused for a moment, before you turned off your computer and stood up, flustered but determined. “Is that okay with you?”

“It’s okay with me.” Her heart thudded hard in her chest as she led you inside, closing the door behind her.

“I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do,” she said, and you gave her a little smile.

“I want you to kiss me.”

That was all she needed to hear. Her hands found their way onto your hips and she pulled you closer, eyes fluttering closed as her lips met yours. You tasted like coffee as she kissed you like her life depended on it, passionate as she pressed her body against yours and backed you up until your legs hit her desk and she pulled away, letting you sit down on it as you caught your breath. You looked incredible, all disheveled and breathing hard atop her desk, and something deep inside her wanted more.

“Just tell me to stop if I do something you don’t want,” she said, and waited only long enough for you to gasp out “okay” before she kissed you again and brought her hands up from your hips to slip underneath your shirt. You let out a little gasp into her mouth and she loved it, wanted to hear more of it, so she let her hands trail slowly upwards until her fingertips touched the wire of your bra and your hands twisted into her shirt.

“Take it off,” she said as she pulled away, and you obeyed, slipping out of your shirt so that she could see the cute bra underneath and the flush that ran down your neck. She licked her lips before attaching them to your neck and working her way down, leaving careful bruises as she reached back to unclip your bra. The soft moans you let out sent throbs through her body, and she knew. She knew she wanted all of you, forever, just like this.

She pressed a gentle kiss to your lips before looking you in the eyes. “I want to go all the way with you.” You swallowed, and then, to her surprise, leaned up to kiss her.

“I want to go all the way with you too.” Your voice was still soft, but confident, and she watched as your hand went to unzip your skirt before once again capturing your lips.

As she felt you under her, tasted your lips and felt your hips jerk, heard your moans and felt your hands slipping under her own shirt, she made up her mind. She wasn’t playing anymore. She was serious. And as she laid you down on her desk, she whispered a promise into your ear. A promise of more. And a promise of forever.

[didsomeonesayventus]

okay long time spending in gestation but I imagine that someone out of the followers I have wants to know my onion on KH3 is 

Overall, good!

so consider wordbarf of very repeated and tired onions no one actually actively asked for below:

Alright so I’ve been trying to figure out how to make these words and what my opinions even are considering this game has been out for almost a year now (KH3 existing is wild imagine it turning a year old) so this will be. mostly bullet points + incoherent and unorganized rambling forgive me

BAD THINGS FIRST lets get the salt out of the way

Literally everything with Kairi was oof. I still feel her relationship with Lea is incredibly rushed given the last time they were interacting in canon he was literally kidnapping her but go off I guess nomura they’re brother/sister friendsy now at least the fandom can sell me on that better than you can. I seethe with rage recalling that they didn’t even try to hide that killing her off was a classic case of fridging (“You lack motivation” FUCK OFF) and I have been angry since the day I was spoiled by leak stuff accidentally. I wouldn’t have minded her getting her ass handed to her if they made it look like she tried and gave us some moments where she did defend herself and get some victories and not conveniently cut away from the actually badly needed training montage (surprise! this is why we have training montages!!!!) and I get she was instrumental in rescuing everyone and the fact she wasn’t THAT bad speaks for how much she improved but it still just. bites that she still feels more like a satellite love interest than ever. 

Kairi was bad enough to get her own thing but tbh everyone who isn’t Sora also.. really suffers. The writing is really Sora-centric here and that’s not inherently bad (see good list) but it leaves a lot to be desired, especially since they dog pile the extended cast moments in at the end. There was no big confusion at Ven and Roxas sharing a face, no talks between characters who would have interesting interactions given their histories and circumstances, no obvious sign of development from anyone except maybe sea salt family and Aqua. They’re here to be more one-note than usual and resolve their arcs. Ven in particular (I’m totally not biased clearly /sarcasm) I feel is a big example given he was kinda in a really rough mental state at the end of bbs?? and 3 is exceptionally vague on just how conscious ventus was during his nap so I can’t even answer if he was able to give himself therapy the past 12 years or whatever

Anti Aqua is a damn cool concept but ultimately kinda pointless and I think we could have received it better if it wasn’t spoiled in trailers and wholly out of left field. Plus Sora coming in after what was pretty clearly set up as a Riku moment- while it gave us the incredibly gay press triangle to Sora + use a big keyblade made from ur love moment -was uh! really cheap!!!! and ruined what was clearly set up for being Riku’s thing with an almost nonsensical SIKE ITS SORA (it’s saved from being wholly nonsensical by 0.2′s opening foreshadowing + it still kinda makes sense for sora to at least help but damn if the narrative wasn’t leading us towards a riku moment)

Also everyone was hit really hard with the nerf effect in-narrative so unless you’re the dream team you’re screwed I guess and that. doesn’t quite work since it makes everyone else look... not great. And I think this is kinda a miscommunication on part of Nomura and the fans (IM MAKING ASSUMPTIONS TAKE WITH SALT) in that we kept saying we wanted people “saved” but meant having their arcs resolved in a reasonable way that preserved their agency and power and relationships, but got interpreted literally as “alright Sora comes in and solves every problem, is tough on stains, and makes julienne fries”

And yet there’s also a lot of mean spirited “oh no sora’s dumb and helpless w/out a second braincell” which was kinda funny the first couple times and I failed to pick up on it first go I’ll admit, but honestly? Yeah. they pick on sora too much. Donald and Goofy are the most guilty, and everyone else by virtue of not seeing Sora that much actually in-narrative are off the hook from me because they probably didn’t know how much teasing he’d been getting from his pals, but it felt kinda like they didn’t know what to fall back on between the three besides “oh donald and goofy pick on sora” which is cute once or twice but the amount he gets and how it clearly leads to his breakdown at the end is uhHHHHhhhHH hm.

As always the pacing is pretty awful where the disney worlds are somewhat relevant at best and then the end is 0-1000 but that is a usual KH gripe so its pretty low on the bar

Attraction flow is cute and neat at first but it gets.. really wearing towards the end and in the serious fights at the Keyblade Graveyard BOY are they a mood breaker

the “repeat the plot” worlds- Tangled, Frozen, Pirates -REALLY stick out like a sore, ugly thumb compared to the worlds that went out and did their own creative thing, and Big Hero 6 was.. cute? but kinda maybe too much of a breather.

Frozen also get an extra award for “Audio mixer most in need of firing!” because who the hell allowed the do you want to build a snowman scene.

They did nothing with Scala and I want a refund on that aesthetic if they’re not gonna do anything besides a framing device with it

HEY WAIT THERE WAS GOOD THINGS TOO!

Good news point that may or may not come to pass: Re:Mind DLC might fix some of the above salt! We shall see and probably know by the time this post is a year old sfjhdsakjgh

SORA! Sora was actually a character again!!!! holy cow they pulled up from the utter nose dive that was DDD!! god i love this dork and it was really fantastic to see him back to normal.

The graphical upgrade lost a lot of the squish and stretch that the OG graphics had but you know what? pretty. tastey. good graphics and better at doing more subtle emotions and hey have i mentioned Pirate’s glow up? Pirate’s glow up. The details in Olympus to recreate the swirly aesthetic of the clouds and explosions and lava is a great touch.

Worlds as far as levels go?? really good! They feel legitimately like worlds and explorable and with their own flavors and I LOVE battle and field themes x2 its really great I’m down for less worlds if they keep the quality. Hell we have NPCs!! maybe even too many npcs.

Writing OVER ALL/ON AVERAGE I’d say has improved a lot! It’s still not a literary masterpiece or anything but I found the disney worlds really cute and easier to get invested in even if long term they were less relevant than I hoped they would be. In every world there was at least one scene I found myself actually invested in. Like there was something to the writing that was legitimately more endearing than usual on average, and toy box and monstropolis were strong contenders for really good overall imo

honestly there were moments that- as moments -were incredible. Wayfinder reunion scene will haunt me, and Sea salt’s was good too, final world and rescuing everyone was jaw dropping, getting the LoD Back was also good, Union X, Xigbar exiting left stage pursued by a bear, wayfinder trio making a grave for eraqus, all the gummi ship scenes had great chemistry, beach party ending, hanging out with rapunzel for the first half of Corona is adorable as hell, all the nods to scenes in the movies, the easter eggs, like the game is not consistently amazing but it is peppered with stuff that I feel in a bubble ignoring surrounding context just work really really well

Damn if the end boss rush wasn’t thrilling as hell and honestly??? really good. Hard to parse out first flush but I think this was a good decision and added a lot of blood roaring urgency and wild turns, and even if I want to overhaul a number of things about the endgame I think this can definitely stay

Kingstagram is a beautiful gift man

OST? A fucking banger all around and I love how they’ve made cutscene-specific tracks that play with the leitmotifs throughout KH’s illustrious musical history

Over all there’s some really glaring issues, but overall it’s KH really at its best. I’m not sure if it’s my favorite entry and I’m still really mixed + befuddled on just how exactly I feel and I think a lot of that is I had pretty high expectations and my own ideas of how it would play out since like. 2012. it’s really hard to detach from those feelings and ideas sometimes. But KH3 wasn’t bad! It could’ve really been worse, and the fact that it got out the door in the state that it was is a good deal

now here’s to the wait for Re:Mind and to see if it’s basically the content we’d get in Final Mix that could definitely bump up my opinion

[purrincess-chat]

Marinette Dupain-Cheng's Spite Playlist: Original CH2

That’s right, two chapters at once! I told you guys I was writing a lot this past week. I pinky swore!

Previous    Next

Chapter 2

Marinette’s new school was bigger than the last, and she suddenly felt very tiny standing before the castle of a building. Several students shuffled in through the front doors, and she could already tell that things were much different here. The air was different, and people carried themselves with a sense of self-importance she usually only saw out of Chloe. Though she supposed this was a private school for rich socialites, yet another thing that reminded her just how different she was from her new classmates, but nevertheless, she trudged on, slipping by unnoticed as she found her way to her new class.

Inside the room, students were broken up into groups all chatting casually with each other, and Marinette pictured similar scenes in Mlle. Bustier’s classroom that had never daunted her like this did. She didn’t recognize any of these faces, nor did they pay her any mind as she stood awkwardly at the front of the room. For a moment, she felt a sinking feeling in her stomach as if this were a bad idea, but soon their teacher entered the room and offered her the first smile she’d received all day.

“You must be Marinette, right?” He asked cheerfully, and she felt herself relax a little.

“Yes.” She nodded.

“Welcome to our school. I’m Mr. Mercier.” He extended a hand for her to shake. “Don’t be intimidated by the groups; most of my students are very friendly, so I’m sure you’ll make friends quickly.”

“Thank you,” she said with a smile, turning to face the front as Mr. Mercier clapped his hands to get everyone’s attention.

“Alright, class, settle down and find your seats,” he said, and students began to shuffle into place. “We have a new student joining us today. Her name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng, so please help her find her way today.” He turned back to face her and pointed to an empty seat in the middle. “You can sit next to Eliott just be sure he doesn’t talk your ear off.”

A boy with dark skin and poofy hair flashed her a devilish grin and extended a hand as she took her seat.

“I’m Eliott, aspiring actor and the boy of your dreams,” he said, waggling his eyebrows, and Marinette blinked at him before a girl behind them reached over and swatted his arm.

“Don’t take him seriously, he’s trying to stay in character for his performance later,” the girl whispered with an eye roll. “My name’s Macy by the way.”

“Marinette,” she replied, and Macy gave her a kind smile.

“Sit with us at lunch, okay?” She insisted, and Eliott lifted her hand to his lips.

“Yes, I’d like to know more about my soulmate,” he said smoothly before kissing her knuckles.

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep him in line,” Macy rolled her eyes, pinching the base of his neck hard until he turned to face the front with a soft yelp.

Marinette bit back a smile as she retrieved her tablet from her bag and tuned into the lesson. Maybe things wouldn’t be so bad there after all. So far everyone was incredibly nice, but as she would soon learn, not every face was friendly.

“That’s the library,” Macy said between classes as they walked, pointing to a large wooden door. “Down that hall is the chemistry lab, and upstairs on the left is the cafeteria.”

“Thanks for showing me around,” Marinette said, rubbing her arm and pursing her lips.

“No problem! Moving to a new school must be really scary, so I know I’d want someone to show me around,” she waved it away.

“So, what prompted you to change schools?” Eliott asked, shoving his hands in his pockets as they walked.

“Um,” Marinette averted her gaze, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I just thought that change would be good for me, that’s all.”

“Whatever the reason, I am happy that fate has brought us together,” he bowed before her, and Macy shoved him slightly causing him to stumble.

“I apologize for Eliott. I’ve known him since we were little, so I’m used to him, but there’s really no way to explain him,” she said shooting him a teasing glare. “He’s harmless though.”

“He certainly reminds me of someone I know,” Marinette remarked, pressing her lips together to hide her smirk.

“And for that I am very sorry for you,” Eliott chuckled as they rounded the corner into their literature class.

“Can you not stand so close to my desk? I don’t want you breathing my air,” a tall girl with long red hair ordered another student as they entered waving her hands in a typical ‘shoo’ motion. The small boy curled his shoulders and slinked off to a desk at the back of the room as his aggressor and several friends laughed. Eliott and Macy exchanged tense looks before motioning for Marinette to sit at the other end of the room.

“Who are they?” Marinette asked in a hushed tone.

“No one worth knowing,” Macy replied, shaking her head.

“Their families have been rich for generations, so they think they’re better than everyone. The redhead’s name is Gabrielle and the big dude sitting next to her is her boyfriend Thomas. He plays lacrosse, and his family owns a castle out in the country.” Eliott explained. “The other three are just their shadows. They follow them everywhere just for the perks because they can bribe the smart kids to do their homework.”

“Sounds a lot like someone I used to know,” Marinette grumbled.

“Every school has at least one it seems,” Macy said, rolling her eyes. “Just ignore them.”

Marinette glanced back at the boy at the back of the room with his face buried in his arms and felt her heart sink a little, but she turned back to face the front as their teacher entered the room and began her lesson.

After literature was art, a class Marinette actually looked forward to. After spending the day in all gray, she was dying to design something colorful. The art room was much more sophisticated than she was used to, and she found herself missing the lingering scent of spray paint from one of Alix’s projects, though she was soon distracted by the large and intricately detailed sculpture of her in the center of the room. Or rather, a sculpture of Ladybug. She didn’t realize that she was staring with her jaw open like a weirdo until their art teacher spoke up from behind her.

“Do you like it?” She asked, and Marinette nearly jumped out of her skin which stirred up mocking laughter from Gabrielle and her posse.

“I- uh, yes, it’s amazing,” she said lamely, clasping her hands together in front of her.

“Thank you. I put many long hours of work into it, so I’m glad that someone appreciates it.” She offered Marinette a smile that made her nerves melt away.

“I’m sure if Ladybug saw it, she would love it too,” Marinette said before taking her seat at a table with Eliott and Macy.

“What a freak,” Gabrielle laughed from her table, purposefully loud enough for Marinette to hear.

“Just ignore her,” Macy said, patting her shoulder.

“Alright, class, today we will be presenting our art projects that we’ve been working on. Marinette, you can just sit back and enjoy everyone’s contributions for today,” she said with a wink. “Who would like to go first?”

A hush fell over the room before Macy raised her hand. “I will, Mme. Pierre.”

“Thank you, Macy.” The teacher gestured her to the front of the room before stepping aside.

“For my project I wrote a song about my friends,” she said, clasping her hands together in front of her and drawing in a breath before she started to sing, and Marinette felt her jaw drop. Utterly entranced through the whole performance, Marinette only came too again when Eliott closed her jaw, and she began clapping with everyone else, cheeks pink with embarrassment.

“You were incredible!” She whispered when Macy sat back down.

“My throat is a little sore today, so it could have been better,” she shrugged, but Marinette wasn’t convinced that her voice could sound any more angelic than it already was.

“Macy wants to be a professional singer, so she’s been taking voice lessons since she was little,” Eliott said, nudging her with his elbow. “She’s just being modest.”

“Eliott, would you care to go next?” Mme. Pierre asked, and he winked at Marinette as he stood up and took his place at the front of the room.

“I will be performing a scene from my favorite play,” he said, before clearing his throat and diving straight into his act.

Marinette felt her cheeks flush as he trained his eyes on her, spilling out profound declarations of love and adoration with the most tender of expressions.

It seemed that everyone at this school was exceptionally talented as she soon discovered when each of her remaining classmates presented paintings, sculptures, makeup, songs, and even dance routines each seemingly more impressive than the last. She began to worry that maybe she wasn’t cut out for this school after all.

“Thank you everyone,” Mme. Pierre said once everyone had finished. “Marinette, I know you are new here, but what medium do you prefer?”

“I, uh, like to design,” she replied, curling her shoulders a little.

“Hey, I think I’ve heard your name before…” One student piped up.

“Yeah, didn’t you design a hat for Adrien Agreste in his most recent fashion show?” One of Gabrielle’s posse spoke up excitedly.

“Well, I won a contest at my old school, and-”

“I heard that Gabriel was the one who selected the winner,” another student said.

“Well, yeah, he did-” Several of her classmates gasped in awe before a hushed chatter broke out around her.

“Didn’t you also design an album cover for Jagged Stone?”

“I heard your great uncle is a world-famous chef!”

“You’re Adrien’s girlfriend, right?”

“I-” Marinette drawled until the bell rang, signaling lunch, and everyone stood up to leave.

“Is all that stuff really true, Marinette?” Eliott asked as they walked to the cafeteria, the remaining traces of his flirtatious demeanor fading now that his scene was over.

“Yeah, I guess it is,” she shrugged.

“Wait, so you are dating Adrien Agreste?” Macy gasped, clutching her arm.

“I- what? He’s just, well, I want to-” She shook herself. “All of them are true except that one. Adrien is just a good friend.”

Former friend rather, but Marinette would spare them the details.

“But you do know him?”

“Yeah, he was in my class,” she confirmed, flinching a little as Macy erupted into a squealing fit.

“Oh, can you pretty please introduce me? We can all hang out on my yacht this weekend!” She begged.

“You have a yacht?” Marinette quirked a brow.

“You don’t?” Eliott chuckled, sobering when she winced. “Wait, you really don’t?”

“I can get you one for your birthday if you want one,” Macy offered, and Marinette rubbed the back of her neck.

“I’m starting to think I really don’t belong here,” she sighed.

“What? How come?” Macy’s eyebrows furrowed.

“Because everyone here is filthy rich and super talented, and they all speak 4 languages, and I’m just…ordinary,” she explained with a shrug, and Macy and Eliott exchanged incredulous looks.

“Your great uncle is a world-famous chef,” Eliott said pointedly.

“Yeah, and your designs have been praised by the king of fashion himself and Jagged Stone,” Macy added.

“Not to mention you’re friends with Adrien Agreste and Chloe Bourgeois.”

“Ehh,” Marinette waved her hand at the last one.

“I think you belong here just fine, Marinette,” Eliott assured her, and she felt her cheeks warm, though her flattery was short lived when Gabrielle’s voice sounded from the middle of the cafeteria.

“Did you hear me? I said move,” she growled at the boy from the art room.

“What’s that girl’s problem?” Marinette grunted in disgust.

“She’s got a lot of money and a power-complex,” Eliott sighed, grabbing a tray. “Best to just ignore her and stay out of her way.”

“But they’re picking on that poor boy.”

“Better him than you,” Macy said. “Trust me.”

Marinette’s jaw clenched as she watched them take his lunch, seething when he cowered before them. She remembered what it felt like to be on the receiving end of that, and she wasn’t going to stand by while someone else was tormented.

“Where are you going? Marinette, just don’t- ah!” Macy and Eliott tried to call her back as she stormed over to the group causing a scene.

“Why don’t you go eat your lunch in the trash can where you belong?” Gabrielle said, waving her hand. “Thomas, can you help him find his way?”

Thomas cracked his knuckles and lifted the boy from his seat, but before he made it far, Marinette slapped her tray on the table across from him.

“Thanks for saving the table,” she said with a smile as everyone around stared at her dumbstruck.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Gabrielle snarled.

“Having lunch,” she replied simply, taking a bite of bread.

“Look, you’re new here, so you might not understand how this works, but this is our table,” Gabrielle said slowly.

“But this is where I always sit,” the boy cried.

“Yeah, well now we want to sit here,” Thomas said, holding him off the ground.

“Why are you making it such a big deal? There are plenty of other empty ones available,” Marinette suggested, nodding to an adjacent table.

“Because we want this one,” Gabrielle snapped, slamming her palm down.

“Why? Because it’s so much better than all the other tables or because you just like to throw your weight around?” Gabrielle’s jaw clenched in response, so Marinette stood up and crossed her arms over her chest. “I’ve dealt with brats like you before. You don’t scare me, and everyone else around here might let you walk all over them, but hi, I’m Marinette Dupain-Cheng, and I’m not gonna stand for it, so you can take your power-trip and sit it somewhere else.”

Gabrielle held her glare for a moment before Marinette jutted her chin at Thomas.

“Put him down,” she ordered.

The cafeteria fell into stunned silence as Marinette sat back down nonchalantly and took a bite of her apple before a few students began to clap. Their applause escalated until the whole room was cheering, prompting an eye roll from Gabrielle who snapped for Thomas to comply before they retreated to another table. Macy and Eliott sat beside her with equally awed gapes.

“Okay, I think I’m in love with you for real now,” Eliott said with a wide grin.

“Thank you for saving me,” the small boy spoke up, straightening his coat. “They dump me in the trash about three times a week.”

“Not anymore,” Marinette assured him, gesturing to the seat across from her. “Sit and eat with us.”

“O-Okay.” He sat down obediently and lowered his gaze to his tray.

“What’s your name?” Marinette asked conversationally.

“Martin…”

“Nice to meet you, Martin. I’m Marinette,” she smiled sweetly.

“How did you stand up to her like that?” Macy asked quietly, leaning forward. “I would have been terrified, but you sounded so confident.”

“Well, a friend of mine once told me that all that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good people do nothing,” she said, face falling a little. “An old friend anyway.”

“I like that,” Macy remarked before a devilish grin spread across her lips. “So, is Adrien as cute in person as he is in photos?”

“Cuter,” Marinette giggled scandalously. “And he’s super nice.”

“You are so lucky!”

“Here they go,” Eliott rolled his eyes.

The rest of her day was busy and exciting as more of her new classmates introduced themselves and complimented her designs or praised her courage in the cafeteria. Gabrielle shot her glares every now and then, but she paid them no mind. She’d dealt with worse.

Everything seemed to be falling into place for her until she arrived back home to see a familiar mop of blond hair waiting outside her door.

“Adrien?” She gasped, heart tightening into a knot in her chest as he turned to her with a somber expression.

“Hey, Marinette. Can we talk?”

[jaywrites101]

Jay Reviews: Captain Marvel

Higher, Further, Faster. Emotions are a weakness, or are they? Today at JayWrites101 we're looking into the cinematic adventure that is Captian Marvel. Critics everywhere are pitching in on this one, giving it reviews ranging between Masterpiece and Disaster with very little room for leeway. How accurate are those reviews? Let's find out together.

The purpose of this review is not to promote, nor offend. We're here to break down The Good, The Bad, and The Strange to find out what makes this movie so unique.

Spoilers ahead.

Medium: Movie Genre: Superhero, action, drama Premise: A superpowered woman with amnesia must find out the truth of who she is so she can stop an interstellar war from destroying her homeworld.

My, that's such a simple premise, isn't it? Boy, the context of this premise changes dramatically. Our Protagonist, Vers, starts off as a Kree soldier fighting to protect Halla from the Skrulls, big green aliens with the power to shape-shift into anyone. As more information is revealed, she ends as Carol Danvers (not to be confused with Karra Danvers, DC's Supergirl) a human pilot who absorbed a fraction of power from an infinity stone whose mission is to protect Earth from the Kree as they try to use her to take over the galaxy.

It's funny how the entire plot reverses itself completely, but the basic premise never changed.

Plot: We start off learning about Vers, as she and her team gears up to rescue a spy whose cover has been blown. The mission turns into a complete fiasco when the spy turns out to be a Skrull in disguise. Vers is captured and "interrogated" using some kind of mind-reading technology. Thing is, she's remembering stuff she couldn't possibly have remembered. Things like getting chewed out for crashing a go-kart, or falling while doing a military course. Vers manages to escape her captors and flee to Earth. After contacting her team, she joins forces with Nick Fury, an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. who's thinking about putting together a task force to protect the Earth from major threats. Not a bad idea, that.

Together they investigate the fragments of memory that Vers recalled from her capture, all while being chased relentlessly by Skrull agents who also made it to Earth. Vers eventually finds a friend who knows the truth and learns that she is, in fact, Carol Dan-vers, a human. Before this revelation has time to sink in, the Skrull offer a flag of truce. They reveal that they're not a military force, just a few survivors trying to hide from the Kree who hunt them relentlessly. As proof, they offer Carol a recording of the incident that robbed her of her memories where it's shown unarguably that her teammates, the Kree, deliberately captured her to find the Tesseract, a device that holds an Infinity Stone, and accidentally gave Carol her powers when she tried to destroy a device that used that energy.

In the end, Carol and her new friends are captured by the Kree and Carol realizes the device she believed was giving her power, was actually suppressing her powers. She destroys the device and becomes Captian Marvel, a superbeing whose massively undefined powers include energy blasts from her hands and flight. Powers that allow her to tear through a Kree spaceship like it was tissue paper. If you've watched Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 1. then you know these things are no joke, but Carol destroys one in three seconds flat by flying through it.

Bad guys leave, Carol takes the surviving Skrull to a new planet on the opposite side of the galaxy and Nick Fury begins his Avengers Initiative. Fast forward to the Present and Carol returns in the end-credit scene to a very confused Captain America and demands to know what happened to Fury.

This was one heavy plot. I cut a lot out of it and it still took me thirty minutes to give a summary that wouldn't leave you more confused than you began. You wouldn't think this movie was so plot-dense until you have to try to explain it.

The Good: I just broke down the plot, but what's great about Captain Marvel is that this plot is engaging. I had to go to the bathroom about a third of the way through the movie, but I didn't once consider actually leaving because every second of this movie was filled with something.

I've heard it said before that a good plot structure is "X happened because of Y and causes Z." There are precious few films that encapsulate that principle into the core of it's being better than Captain Marvel. And the nods to future films and plot points were fun to discover as well.

Another thing worth noting is how much of the story is conveyed nonverbally. They spend a lot of effort to say as much as they can, using as little dialogue as possible. This helps the viewer to remember plot details better since they're not just passively listening, but it also means that removing attention away from the screen can cause you to miss things crucial to understanding what's going on. I'm leaving this in The Good because Captain Marvel used this feature well. It's always nice to see a visual medium like film use visual storytelling to great effect instead of having someone constantly dumping exposition all the time.

As a subset of the above, lack of exposition in a movie that is a plot-heavy as this one is always worth noting as praiseworthy.

The use of humor to break up the heavier scenes was a relief, and it often came when I least expected it. Real early in the movie there was this scene where "Vers" was escaping the Skrull's and one of them does this growl at her and she growls back! It was such an absurd little moment of humanity and character that I lost it. And almost anything with that cat! I swear, how they made that monster scratching out Nick Furry's eye out into something hilarious, I'll never know! But they did, and all those little moments made this movie shine.

Real briefly, I'd like to address a common complaint I've heard against this movie, Carol's lack of character. These people are full of fluff. Is that it? Can I just leave it here? Do I really have to explain this? Yes?? *sigh* Okay.

The idea that Carol lacks character is born from her "reserved" personality type. Now, I'm not calling anyone sexist! But this is a personality type that is very often shown in Men ™ , and it doesn't even raise an eyebrow. But to any dude who actually is sexist, and refuses to look at anything other than how large Brie Larson's chest is outside of her superhero suit, this personality type can easily be swapped out with a piece of cardboard and they wouldn't notice.

Now, guys have been pulling off this “kind of quiet, but kind, but I'll seriously kick your ass if you mess with me,” attitude in film for ages. And quite a few even have had success with it. (I'm thinking Resse from Person of Interest, a show that is definitely getting its own review someday.) But it's exceedingly rare for a woman in film to have this personality type.

It's not uncommon in reality, however. And I, personally, like this touch of realism.

The few moments where Carol allowed herself to laugh felt warm and genuine. All her interactions with her niece were heartwarming. Again, some very important people, some of whom I even respect, say that the side characters never got a chance to shine, and Carol never got a chance to have a character arc.

But again, they're full of fluff. If anything, expressing emotion was Carol's character arc. By beating up the man in her life that insists that she never feel emotion, Carol shows that her emotions are her strengths and she does not at all have to prove herself to anyone.

Why?

Because she kept getting back up.

This is a powerful message to tell anyone. Not just women. We heard a variant of the same message in the Dark Knight trilogy. But in this one, it's even more satisfying because the people who kept knocking her down were cheating to begin with.

Now, I'm not going to say that this message was transferred across the eight sexes evenly. I have no doubt that women felt this message more acutely than men. This specific message was made for women. Duh. But there's only one reason why any man could come out of this film feeling attacked.

They saw themselves in Yon-Rogg.

I'm just saying, if you related to the one male character that got attacked in this movie, you prolly need to be offended. Just a little. It's not going to kill you to take a hard look at yourself, even if you eventually discover that you have, in fact, been an ass at some point in your life.

Congratulations. Welcome to the human race. Now, move on.

Before we take our own advice and move on, I'd like to address one more thing Captain Marvel did exceptionally well: The sound design.

This movie sounded wonderful, from the effects to the actual factual background music. Most notably in the third act. There was a point where a character said "The music is a nice touch" and I agreed completely. A lot of these films use similar or recycled music to amp up "the moment" but this movie... well, they didn't turn it up to eleven, but the got it up to ten.

They had music with lyrics, and that's more than 70% of movies these days. Thumbs up.

The Bad: Remember how I said I loved how engaging this plot was? It's still a freakishly dense plot! This whole thing was so tightly edited there was very little time to just unpack the things that happened. Often, you had to try and unpack the thing that just happened while actually doing the next thing.

This helps the movie be engaging. But it hamstrings it when it comes to actually following what’s happening. There is just no way to condense this movie. I've left out tons of stuff just because I have to stop typing this thing eventually!

The Strange: This part of the review is dedicated to the bizarre. To elements or ideas that seem half done, or just really questionable. Not usually bad enough to be constituted as a plot hole, these things are... just... things.

So, for example, the Kree team. What were their names? How many of them were there in the first place?

Don't know? Me neither, and I took notes when I watched this film. I remember Minn-Erva, the sniper, and Yon-Rogg the main villain. And if I'm honest, I actually forgot their names and had to look it up. I didn't even know their group was called "Starforce," until I discovered it looking for the correct way to spell their names.

This is not the best way to set up your main bad guys. Especially if your audience is supposed to care about them at all for any reason.

And while we're at it, the antagonist himself, Yon-Rogg, could do with a little bit extra development too. We don't really know much about him except that he thinks emotions are weaknesses in a fight, and that Carol using her full power is cheating.

We don't really know anything else about him, so there's no real sense of betrayal when Carol turns on him. The "evil all along" trope works best when it's a character you've been with the whole story who's secretly had a plan the whole time. It works because you, the audience, feels betrayed too. Here... it just kinda happened. And, depending on how cynical you are, you probably even saw it coming.

It's like they were going for a sucker punch but aimed it at your forearm; doesn't really hurt, and does little to actually surprise us.

Strongest Scene: When making the strongest scene, I don't mean I look for the scenes with the most meaning packed into them. If I did, the climax or the Intro of a story would win every time. No, what I look for in a strong scene is pure storytelling. How is it shot, who is in it, how does it connect with the rest of the story, and how much does it say.

For Captain Marvel, my subjective vote goes to the bar scene between Nick Fury and "Vers." Even though they've technically met already, the two are really seeing each other for the first time. Nick, newly awakened to the idea of aliens, and Vers, finally respecting Nick's skills as a competent agent despite his comparative backwater setting.

Nick realizes he's in about a mile over his head, and Vers realizes she can't work alone.

They have a nice discussion about their past and aliens, complete with its own little humorous jabs, and there's a very real sense that these two are full partners afterward that carries all along the rest of the movie.

Weakest Scene: As much as it saddens me to say this, I'm going to have to put the introduction to the movie here.

Don't get me wrong, it does a fully competent job of setting up Vers and her amnesia. But we don't get a good sense of anyone else in Halla. To me, it's the things we don't see that really spoil this intro. We don't see any of Carol's friends, and the one guy we do see is in a bit of a mentor position. We don't see how people in this world live, and because of that, we don't get to know if the people of Halla are happy, or miserable. And while this does little for the plot of this movie, it would've done marvels at giving the villains characterization or justifications.

Coulda, shoulda, woulda; didn't.

Luckily, I can gladly say that every other scene in this movie was made stronger than this one.

Conclusion: Captain Marvel is an excellent story from start to finish. Anyone who tells you otherwise is stuffed so full of fluff you can call them Whinee the Poo. And yes, that is my way of saying they're full of crap. 

There's a stigma around female characters that they're almost all considered Mary Sue's, and that being a Mary Sue is the WORST CRIME EVER!! But I never got that from Carol. Mostly because at every opportunity instead of powering her way through her problems, she had to cave and struggle and even fall.

And then she got back up.

[juni-ravenhall]

writings about juni as an oc

30 questions about Juni (with unnecessarily long answers), from this SSO OC asks posts except i just filled it all out in one go. i want to try developing her into a more detailed character just for fun so this seemed like the best way to start! i hadn’t decided anything about her besides “non-binary and pan” until starting to fill this out hahah, i just tapped into my jorvegian feels and went along with what felt right.

this is already stated on my “about” page but, to be clear, Juni is some kinda persona/OC thingy and not “me”, while having some traits and details inspired by my real self. (you can definitely get to know about me by reading this, but, it’s not me me.)

BASIC CHARACTER INFO (remember her details are not mine!) Name: Juni Ravenhall Age: around 18-20 i guess, don’t wanna make her too old to fit with the other characters in the story. Gender: non-binary / genderfluid?, but more or less OK with her female body, and she’s fine with any pronouns. Sexuality: panromantic pansexual.

1. What is their home stable in-game? Why?

South Hoof Peninsula (headcanon:ing that there is a home stable there, obviously) because it’s her home. While travelling she makes use of stables and accomodations anywhere, so some people know her in the places she stays over a lot (Valedale, Moorland, others).

2. Where do they actually live in Jorvik?

Her home is on South Hoof, although she doesn’t stay there for long periods of time anymore with all the travelling and adventures going on. She was born in Valedale, but was taken to South Hoof as a small child. (My headcanon is that there’s a few more people living on the peninsula than what’s shown in-game.) It’s worth noting she’s an orphan (or is she...?! *dun dun dun*) so she grew up without a biological family. (btw, that’s not just to be dramatic... I’m from an abusive home and parents mean nothing to me, so I wouldn’t be able to relate to her as much if I gave her some kind of normal, caring parents, I don’t know that stuff. I’d much rather she has no parents / doesn’t know her parents, than that she has to grow up with awful ones.)

3. Who is their favorite NPC?

Hmm, I would make up some OCs for her proper personal story, but out of the NPCs that exist..... (these are not all my favourites, just some of them that I think works well for her story.) - She knows everyone at South Hoof to some degree since she grew up there, I think she’s especially close with Jonas as a parent-figure of sorts, and of course, Madison. She helps the hermit and is on good terms with him. When Hugh moved there, she started making friends with him, I imagine they’ll get close as Juni really cares about animal rescue. - She's fairly close to Conrad, mix of mentor, friend and parent-figure. (He’s taught her more than what’s shown in canon, and she visits him anytime she’s staying in Moorland.) - She likes helping Agnetha and Björn with their garden projects so they have a friendly relation, though casual. It’s the kind of thing where she’ll stay over and help them for a few days, and at the end of the day they have cozy outdoor dinners outside the house, watching the sunset view from the cliff and smelling the roses. They probably get some great fresh food from around Silverglade. - I think she's somewhat friends with Ed at Wolf Hell Inn (or stays over and sees what crazy stuff he’s up to often enough). - She definitely likes Rania and like going out for rides with her, whether there’s a special cause or not. I forget the name of that crazy ranger girl... but she likes her and Alonso too. - She likes hanging out with Mario, and they’ll have picnics on the mountain or on top of the observatory after she’s been helping him out, watching the stars together (platonically). - She’s a wary friend of the Bobcats and Justin, like, they could be friends (since she’s at Moorland often enough) but they aren’t quite. I think she gets along with Josh (pole bending guy). - I was going to write about the soul riders and druids... but I think in my made-up headcanon, Juni's situation and role in the soul rider team would be different. I’ll have to think more about it.

4. Who is their Soul Steed? What breed are they? Do they have any markings or look different in some way from the in-game appearance you could give them?

Winterborn, a Jorvik Warmblood stallion (here’s his tag on my blog). He’s a brave and loving companion, thoughtful sometimes, a bit silly and spoiled sometimes. His bond with Juni is very strong. He probably does look a bit different in my headcanon but I’d have to draw/edit it to make a decision, so let’s leave that in the air for now...

5. What is their favorite location? (Ex, Hollow Woods, Greendale, Silverglade Manor Library) Why?

- South Hoof, as her adopted home, and because of the ancient and “wild and free” energy it has. She feels relaxed and at home there, and somehow connected to the magic of the land (even before she learns about magic). - Valedale and the surrounding areas like Hollow Woods, where she feels a nagging sense of nostalgia and belonging, a tingling mysterious feeling (similar but not the same as what she feels on South Hoof). She loves the flowers, buildings and nature there. - Moorland Forge, for Conrad. - Agnetha and Björn’s gardens. - Wolf Hell Inn, she likes it there and (as mentioned) she likes seeing what weird stuff Ed is up to. - Dino Valley, she loves the winter, the solitude, and the challenge of survival (she’s an adventurer after all). - Crescent Moon Village, just for how cozy it is, and the Mirror Marshes, for its beauty. There’s a lot of spots around New Hillcrest and Epona she likes in general too. - Goldenhills Valley, she loves the autumn colours and the ruins, and takes an interest in the witchcraft that she sees, starting to wonder what’s good and bad magic. - Cape West, a cute little village to visit now and then. - Jarlaheim, as a place to hang out and shop / rest, after a day of helping out with farm chores around the area. - Greendale, where it seems like faeries might pop out if you’re quiet enough. - Ydris’ circus, because she can’t help but get curious about it. (I love circus / fairground aesthetics personally... I’m one of those people who’s always loved clowns and everyone else is like “what?! clowns are creepy man!”) - Mistfall and Firgrove are places she likes both for the nature and buildings, but she doesn’t tend to stay there long. - The Observatory, and other spots high up with great views, like the shortcut between Firgrove and Valedale, and the secret path up the mountain in Firgrove, too. - Aideen’s Plaza in Jorvik City, a cozy and fun place when you need a break from the countryside, especially if there’s an event / festival / market going on. - Pandoria? -- there’s certainly something about it...

6. Who’s their favorite horse? Why?

I’m going to say Juni doesn’t own any other horse than Winterborn, at least at this time. (Obviously I have lots in-game but for this OC story it doesn’t really make sense, so let’s say the rest aren’t canon, haha. Maybe they’re horses she’ll own later in life.)

7. What are their powers? Are they stronger with one Circle over any of the others?

Hmm... I dunno, I have to think more about this one. I probably want to draw some pictures to figure out more about her relation to magic and Pandoria and all that.

8. What’s their usual style? Any favorite tack sets or color themes for them?

She likes all colours and likes putting together new outfits and tack sets of various styles, but some particular favourite colours are red and purple, and overall her style tends to be bold and graphic rather than soft or gentle. She can do soft and gentle too though, when she feels like it!

9. Thoughts about Jorvik City? How do they feel about Rania’s petition for a horse-friendly Jorvik City?

She likes it there (especially Aideen’s Plaza as mentioned), but definitely thinks that there’s such a thing as “too much city” and has to retreat to nature after some time there. A horse-friendly city would be nice, as Winterborn would probably really enjoy getting spoiled with treats at the Plaza on a warm evening, getting petted by nice strangers.

10. Thoughts about Justin? (I’m sorry, I’m curious, he shows up so much)

She pities him in a kind way, thinks he’s sensitive and immature. She wouldn’t mind being friends with him once he starts growing as a person. She also likes lasagna, so they could organise a lasagna party together with the Bobcats sometime.

11. How do they feel about the magical horse race at the circus? Did they enjoy being a horse?

While she doesn’t like how Ydris treats people, she thought it was really interesting and insane, and had a lot of thoughts about what magic is / what magic can do after starting to come into contact with all its different types (Pi, Ydris, the soul riders and druids, etc etc). Maybe being able to turn into a horse at will and gallop around with Winterborn would be really cool!

12. Do they trust the Druids? Or how do they feel about them?

Once she starts getting to know about them, she trusts them as soon as she knows Conrad is involved with them, because she trusts him. Of course she doesn’t trust them 100%, due to all the weird stuff that goes on, but she trusts that they have good intentions even if it doesn’t always come out right, or maybe the right people aren’t in charge.

13. Least favorite NPC?

That’s a tough one... let’s just say she doesn’t like when people use or abuse others. However, she believes that anyone can change and become a better person, it’s just exceptionally hard for some people (and nobody is entitled to forgiveness). (Honestly it’s just difficult because I’m an open-minded person and I appreciate villainous *fictional* characters for their roles in a story, just as well as I appreciate the heroes and background characters. I don’t see a point in being pissy about fictional villains, they’re just part of a story, and in fiction everyone has a chance at bettering themselves. Plus, the victims of their actions are all fictional... nobody really got hurt. I wouldn’t think IRL people like Tr*mp is going to change for the better, plus even if he did he’s caused a lot of people a lot of harm, so IRL is another thing. but I can accept any character’s change and redemption in fiction because... it’s fiction, a fantasy.)

14. How do they make their money?

Before travelling she made them by doing odd jobs around South Hoof, now she does odd jobs around Jorvik. Often she’ll take a trade and do work for food and someplace to stay for the night instead of getting paid. She sells things she’s found and things she’s made now and then (having some skills in crafts).

15. How many horses do they own?

Same answer as before, as an OC she only owns Winterborn (right now).

16. How many pets do they have? What kind? What are their names?

I don’t think I want her to have any at this time, I might change my mind later. She loves the farm animals and the wild horses on South Hoof, of course, and helps take care of other people’s pets when needed. (I love my baby seal in the game though.)

17. How do they feel about the Soul Riders? Do they trust them? Feel like an outsider? Are they closer to some over the others?

I’ll have to decide on her role in the story and relating to the soul riders before I can answer that, so I’ll leave that for now. I don’t think she’s very close with any of them, if anything it’d be a somewhat good relation with Linda and Alex, I think.

18. Do they believe something mystical, magical, or otherwise strange really exists in Dino Valley? How did they feel about the leaving of the Kallter and the roar/scream/screech in the Valley?

There’s absolutely something strange about it, and her heart beats at the idea of more adventures there. The Kallters must have had a reason to leave.

19. Thoughts about Jorvik Wild Horses?

I think for headcanon OC story purposes, Jorvik Wild Horses and Starbreeds are probably the same thing? Just like, I’d go with that there’s a one type of magic horses with Jorvegian magic (or Pandorian) flowing through them, but then they can look different from each other. In the headcanon there wouldn’t be random Jorvik Wilds running around or anything, it’d be super special rare stuff like the Starbreeds are.

20. Do you think they are a Wild Whisperer? Or are they just bonded with their Soul Steed?

I’m not sure, leaning towards that she’s mostly just bonded with Winterborn. Maybe she has some level of whispering abilities but it’s definitely not one of her strongest skills.

21. What’s their favorite Jorvegian holiday or celebration?

All holidays, any excuse to celebrate, although she prefers peaceful and homely celebrations over parties or high-tempo events. Life is precious, so she celebrates every day to some degree (like I mentioned... sunset picnics, enjoying nature).

22. What do they think or feel about Pandoria? Have they or do they visit outside of the quests (using the rifts)? If they have or still do, why?

I think at the time I would place Juni’s story, she’s only starting to learn about Pandoria and is still confused and thoughtful about the different types and uses of magic. So what she’s going to think of Pandoria and what she’ll do about it would be something to figure out.

23. How has their visit(s) to Pandoria affected them? Do they have scars? Has it affected any of their life views?

See above. But also, since I want to explore Juni’s relation to magic, I’ll say I think the magic (or something else about Pandoria) might start to eat at her, and maybe she starts losing herself a bit the deeper she gets into those thoughts and the magic itself. (Hint... I think it’ll have to do with being an orphan and feeling alone and depressed.)

24. Would they ever consider working for Dark Core or believing their side?

No, I can’t imagine she would unless there was some very specific reason.

25. What or who is Garnok to them? A dark presence? A squid-like monster? A child with a ridiculously complicated jumping course (fuckin @’s Lizzy)?

I love Lizzy’s course lol, but maybe Garnok did have a hand in it... Anyway, I don’t think Juni knows anywhere near enough to have an understanding of Garnok at this point, so it’s just some vague thing the druids aren’t describing enough.

26. Do they ever go to the Disco? If they don’t, would they ever consider going? What would it take to make them go?

She goes sometimes, but she quickly gets tired of both dancing and socialising in crowds and has to wind down afterwards, maybe just sitting down at the disco balcony to look at the ocean, or heading down to the beach to lie down and rest. The evening ride back to her home on South Hoof (or to a place to stay in Moorland if the ferry stopped running) is a moment of winding-down, too.

27. Disco or Moorland Beach party?

The beach party is probably a little more chill, which suits her.

28. Are they interested in helping with archaeology or fishing?

She likes trying to do archaeology, and finds ancient (or just old) things really interesting, but she’s not necessarily the best at it. It’s something she does from time to time, or when someone asks for help. Fishing is something she’d only do when hanging out with someone else.

29. How do they feel about Igor, the waiter/manager of the Dino Valley cafe, and whom seemed interested in your horse for… “culinary reasons?”

She hopes he was joking, and appreciates his efforts in starting up the café since the Dino Valley crew is so small, and everyone needs each others’ help to survive and explore there.

30. Do they like the perpetual winter of Dino Valley or the perpetual autumn/fall of Goldenhills Valley, or is it strange to them? Do they prefer one over the other, or neither?

She likes them both, but she’s curious about what they’d look like if the seasons did change.