#little extra she was reading Dante's Paradise

[steviesbicrisis]

Sometimes, Robin disappears.

Steve doesn’t know where she goes nor can tell how long she’s gonna be gone, usually she’s away just for a couple of hours and comes back acting like everything is fine.

It doesn’t scare Steve any less.

He knows she doesn’t do it to mess with him, and despite being attached to the hip since Starcourt there’s still a lot they don’t know about with each other.

When she’s gone, Steve’s mind those a whole 360 on every possible scenario: when his mind is good to him, she’s hanging out with imaginary way-cooler-than-Steve friends, who don’t know of his existence because Robin is embarrassed by him, which leaves him with a sting of jealousy until he hears back from her; when it’s a little less kind, he imagines her being attacked by Russians, or abducted by an Upside down creature, or both. She usually comes back before he leaves everything to jump in his car and frantically look for her.

The thing is, Robin acts like everything is fine and Steve doesn’t know how to approach it. She’s fine before, she’s fine after, and he doesn’t know where he stands. He doesn’t know if this attachment for Robin is okay or if it’s going to scare her away, so he lets her set the rules and he follows the best he can, trying not to die of worry in the meantime.

One day, Robin doesn’t go to school.

He comes to pick her up at the usual time but she isn’t on her porch steps, ready to scold him for being late. He rings the doorbell but no one answers, her parents are often out early in the morning and she doesn’t have any siblings, so he guesses she might have gone to school without him.

He drives to school and stands near the entrance, trying to spot her while planning how to make her feel guilty for not giving him any heads-up on the change of plans.

She’s nowhere to be found.

He drives to the streets nearby, then to the library and the park, no trace of her anywhere.

He goes to work telling himself she’s probably fine, she must’ve overslept or she was already in class or she had early band practice. It doesn’t calm his mind even a little bit. Because it's not like Robin to skip school, she has never done this before, or at least since Steve has known her. Before his mind spirals again thinking that he doesn’t even know his best friend, he decides to focus on work and look for her after, hoping she will call in the meantime to let him know she wasn’t eaten alive by a Demogorgon.

At 5:01 PM he’s out of the store and ready to search every corner of the town until he finds Robin.

He’s driving on the road coasting Lovers Lake when he notices Robin’s bike. Steve’s heart beats fast as he abruptly gets out of the road and parks next to it.

The bike is parked in perfect conditions so Steve feels safe enough to exclude a Will Byers situation and ventures into the coastline to look for her.

He notices her before she can: Robin is sitting cross-legged on an old bench, heavy book in her hands, looking very relaxed and completely out of danger.

Steve’s worry quickly turns into anger.

“Are you insane?” He asks when he’s close enough to be heard.

Robin winces, she was too immersed in her book to notice anyone coming near. She looks surprised to see him there “What are you doing here, dingus?”

“What am I doing here? What are you doing here!” Steve retorts, hands on his hips.

Robin recognizes the scolding-children pose and doesn’t like it “I am clearly reading and enjoying the nice weather, or at least I was until you came to bother me!”

“Oh, now I am bothering you? So sorry to interrupt your getaway because I thought you were dead!”

Robin slams her book closed “Are you serious? I was just taking a break, I needed alone time!”

“Take all the breaks you want but at least give me a fucking heads up so I know I don’t have to look for you around town like a maniac” he gestures at the area where he parked her car, his voice getting louder.

“I really don’t understand where this is coming from, I’ve been coming here to read for years, and no one as ever-“

“Well, maybe that’s because you didn’t have a best friend who worried about you!”

Steve regrets it as soon as he says it. Robin looks stunned, she opens and closes her mouth several times, then looks away.

After a minute of heavy silence between them, Steve approaches the bench and sits next to her, looking at the lake.

“I’m sorry,” they say at the same time.

“I shouldn’t have said that” Steve continues “I was worried but that is my problem and you don’t have to tell me anything.”

“No, you’re right” she shakes her head “I’m not used to having people worried about me. My parents are great but they don’t really question where I go every day and…” she glances at Steve quickly, then looks down at her book again “I’m not used to friends caring like that either.”

Never in a million years Steve would’ve guessed that one day he would’ve related so much to Robin Buckley.

“Why do you leave?” He dares to ask.

“I just need it sometimes. Everything gets too loud, there’s too much going on and I feel… overwhelmed” she explains.

Steve doesn't understand that, he has felt overwhelmed before but he would never leave or ask for space from people close to him. Sometimes, he misses Tommy and Carol just because they barely gave him any space. But it seems something important to Robin, so he nods.

"so, school was too much today?"

"no, I mean yes, but no" she groans, frustrated "It's just that- school is fine and I have my quiet places but... I had a nightmare. This wasn’t the first time since Starcourt but it was the most terrifying I had."

Steve doesn't say anything, and Robin grows more embarrassed by the minute. She's ready to tell him to forget about it when she feels Steve's hand taking hers and intertwining their fingers.

She remembers back on the Starcourt's roof, when she got scared shitless and her hand immediately found Steve's. She was still scared but comforted by the idea that Steve was with her.

Steve is looking the opposite way from where she's sitting on his left, so she can't see his face when he speaks "I have them too. Just tell me next time instead of giving me more nightmares material."

"Uh sure" she manages to say. She's not used to getting this sappy with Steve, or anyone else for that matter.

She squeezes his hand "so, is part of the Harrington charm to get all smushy?"

Steve squeezes back "fuck off! My art of charming is so much more than that!"

"Oh really, please do tell, I am so ready to take notes on how to woo all the ladies!"

"First of all: Hair."

Steve goes into a detailed list of things Robin should mind more ("I could do your hair" "never in a million years, dingus") and Robin groans and rolls her eyes at most of his points ("I so dress better than you" "you wear suspenders, Buckley. Unironically").

They keep holding hands the whole time.

[clairen45]

Hey, fantastic job with your metas! I don't know if you've already posted a thorough article on what you expect or think IX will be, but I'd love to read what you have to say about the probable storyline you think is going to happen; personally, I'm having a hard time believing the Reylo arc can be completed in just another movie, let alone the arcs of the three trilogies; what would be left for the next trilogy they're already working on? What do you think? Tks again!

Dear Anon,

thank you for being so encouraging, it is always nice to hear! And thanks for the ask. It took me a little while to answer you (sorry about that) because I was wondering what I could really tell you. I usually try to avoid speculations because, well, I would not say it is my forte, I am not the best at making bets… And, honestly, there is a lot of stuff that could go whatever… BUT…. There are some things I think we can count on, and some things we may expect. And some others (not necessarily groundbreaking) that we could also see them explore or hint at, when looking at the material they have given us so far. Again, I will not bet on anything…Disclaimer, guys!

What we can count on:

Ben’s redemption (yep), last Skywalker standing, guys…. This is my final world, and I have no doubt about that. 

More Force bonds. Because they are awesome!

Reylo as endgame. So…Reylo kiss/ Reylo sex (don’t expect porn, you guys, a lot of great fanfic readers are very kindly providing that)… Probably off screen then (but a girl can dream on something tactful and romantic, the kids will be watching so obviously…)

TFA was Kylo and Rey fighting each other… TLJ is them fighting together. Episode IX should be them fighting for each other… You can’t convince me otherwise.

The MF… It has been key in the ST… Home… Bringing Ben home, or Rey and Ben leaving together at the end. Or Ben piloting the Falcon to do something important…

New saber for Rey… duh

A coup by Hux. Obviously. Rabid cur anyone? Division among the First Order.

Brace yourself: death of our heroes. One or the two of them. Litteral death of one of them, but the other resurrects it through love and use of the Force. Or symbolic death of one or the two of them, through imagery or suspense (we think they are dead but they are not). This is classic myth/fairy tale. It has to happen for them to complete their growth and journey. There is no other way around it. But it can happen many different ways… Don’t fret. I am expecting them to be alive and well at the end.

Balance of the Force… see the quotation from Journal of the Whills: grey Jedi.

Overarching theme for the saga and ST: “you win by saving what you love, not killing what you hate”/ Fairy tale morale/ Dante’s Divine Comedy… Need I say more?

What we can logically expect (as a continuation, or because they have hinted at it, or because that is what they do)

Porgs!!!! Anything with eggs, nesting… too many aviary and bird references in the ST movies and novelizations to overlook

Maz Kenata.. playing some part… or just a cameo. Or finally delivering some answer or advice…

Battles… with ships… in space. And on land… LOL

Leia’s death and/or funeral… Except if they recast her, but oh well… Han’s funeral was in the novelization for TLJ. We need a funeral anyways in the last installment. Padmé in the PT, Vader in the OT… We are bound to get a funeral in the ST. Leia seems like the logical choice. Multiple possibilities: fairly early on, and then you have Kylo trying to show up or sharing with Rey after it and it can play a part in bringing them together. Or at the end, and it is the funeral that brings the galaxy together and it helps everyone mourn their lost and loved ones. Padmé’s was the funeral that marked the end of unity, Leia’s could be the one that brings everyone together. With Rey and Kylo together behind the coffin, or putting a torch to the pyre, hand in hand, as chief mourners.

Division in the Resistance? As a parallel to the First Order’s inner divisions? Would seem logical. I could see Poe struggle as a leader. Or Rey not being comfortable with everything about the Resistance, especially when it comes to Kylo. Rey still needs to figure out where she belongs… She belongs with Kylo. So, she might have issues finding her place in the Resistance. Just as he will not be happy with the First Order as seen by Hux.

Stormtrooper rising. They have focused more on the extra material about the human face of the Empire. See Claudia Gray’s Lost Stars, and the Junior novelization of TFA. Deleted scene of TLJ. Yes, Finn might not just be a bug in the system, it may be the first sign of more to come. Along with the division within the First Order, there may be stormtroopers rebelling and deciding between Kylo and Hux. Plus it gives Finn the chance to shine bright as the one who reaches out to dissident stormtroopers.

Use of the Jedi texts: they can’t have been stolen for no reason.

More FinnRose.

Kylo as good leader/benevolent emperor.

A Force ghost. I wonder if we will get a ROTJ type of ending with all our ghosts gently beaming… Or if they will just pop in to comment Rey and/or Kylo’s actions. We had them in the OT obviously. Not so much in the PT where Qui-Gon could have made an appearance/apparition… It is actually weird he didn’t but maybe Liam Neeson was not interested, who knows?

The ending should be on a lush planet. To symbolize rebirth, renewal, fertility, and the return to Paradise. And as a counterpoint to the ending of PT on Mustafar/Hell.

We might have the return of other known systems, Naboo or Mustafar, but I would really love to see Chandrila featured. It has been heavily featured in the extra material for the ST: in Last Shot, Leia Princess of Alderaan, and Aftermath series. We have seen Jakku, Rey’s birthplace, it would be logical and expected to see Chandrila, birthplace of Kylo. Also, don’t you think it eerily looks like Earth?

A nod to Padmé is overdue. Poor Padmé. Her part was already butchered in the PT. She is vaguely alluded to in the OT… It would be nice to see her somewhere in the ST. Extra material has been alluding and hinting at her…

Someone finding about Rey and Kylo’s force bond and special relationship and being shocked. I am imagining Rose or Finn. Either they keep her secret but call her out on it. Or they betray her secret, for her own good as they see it, and that prompts Rey to dramatically choose to defend Kylo. I have a head canon on BB8 playing a part in all that (catching them during a meeting and playing the holo of their tryst, for example… LOL)

Something that I desperately want to see but am unsure of… the overdue “I’ll come back for you sweetheart, I promise”, that is SO overdue and that is so important in the novelization of the movies, especially in the TLJ Junior version. I think I will pass out from excitement if I finally hear Kylo utter that line (which I deeply believe in).

THAT scene from Rey’s Force vision in TFA. Because, WTF, JJ, you started that now you finish it!

So possibly the elusive Knights of Ren?

Ok, I am sure I am forgetting some stuff. But, this is my piece for now. I hope that answers your questions. Please let me know your thoughts… Sorry it took so long! As for your question about completing it in one movie, well… @taule was telling me that she had heard people speculating they might make more… I would love it, of course, but they did say that ix was supposed to wrap up and tie in the whole Skywalker saga… Do not worry anyways,  because you can count on books, novels, comics, and animation to keep Kylo, Rey, and all their buddies alive and well for quite a while. I am predicting LOTS, TONS OF Kylo’s stuff once they are done with ix and can finally stop pretending about the redemption and survival of their character.

@raven-maiden, @toawaterfowl, @lightaroundthecorner My elves accepted to finally open one letter and get their act together to answer an anon that has been nice all year! LOL

[rosesisupposes]

Destined, part 8

aka Sweet Dreams are Made of These

Character Tags: Virgil/Anixety ; Patton/Creativity ; Patton/Morality ; Logan/Logic ; Remy/Sleep ; Dante/Deceit

Chapter Pairings: 

Chapter Warnings: lies, theft, negative self-talk

Reader Tags: @residentanchor​ @royally-anxious​ @brendonuriesguardianvirgil​

Summary: After centuries of acting as an oracle to heroes, quest-seekers, and villains alike, Virgil just wants to live as a normal, modern human. For someone who can see infinite probabilities, you’d think he’d know better.

<<Chapter 7 | Masterlist | Chapter 9>>

Read on Ao3

Flashback: central Europe, 1000 CE

Kat Baker was not a very good one. At the very least, she was the worst baker in the Baker family. And today she’d proved beyond a doubt that if she inherited running the family store, as she was expected to, Bakers’ Dozen would be out of business within the week. She could practically feel three generations of Baker women glaring at her in disappointment.

It had started with the sign.

Mama had asked her to paint a new sign after the old one rotted. She had been ecstatic. Finally, a chance to create something not made of icing! Something that would last!

She’d been very methodical about it, too. She’d sketched several designs and got Mama’s approval, and made a quick version on parchment paper before trying to recreate it on the wooden sign that hung outside the thatched-roof bakery.

But today, once she finally had gotten her paints out, she had gotten too caught up in it, and she’d forgotten to take the loaves out of the oven. The simple daily loaves. The kind that people actually depended on the Baker business for. The kind that were the staple of half their villages’ meals for the day. They had burned, and Mama and her sister Cythera had had to use up the extra dough to quickly get out as many as possible for the daily traffic.

All the pretty, fancy baking that Kat was good at helping with was just extra, the kind of thing that would help them maintain and expand their business. The village loved her sugar flowers and decorations, even the elegantly braided and twisted breads, but they didn’t live on sweetcakes. The daily bread was the backbone of the town and the store itself. Mama was furious.

Kat had run to the woods, crying. Why couldn’t she be a better daughter, a better Baker. Why was she so flighty when her family needed her to be stable, and dependable, and adult?

She ran down a barely-seen path to a small glade, and threw herself down on the mossy bank of the small pond there. This was her paradise, her tranquil pool. She sat and breathed in and out, listening to forest sounds and admiring the flowers around her. At least here she felt like she belonged, and there were no expectations to disappoint.

Relaxing, she doodled in the dirt with a reed plucked from the bank, sketching the water lilies gently floating on the pool’s surface. She started adding flourishes - a frog on a lilypad, a bird overhead, a butterfly in flight. Her concentration was entirely locked on the spreading patterns drawn in the dirt.

Right up until she heard a splash and a voice yell for help.

A tiny blue form was in the middle of the pool, struggling to stay afloat as sodden white wings threatened to sink it. With a start but no hesitation, she waded in, and used a lilypad to scoop up the small creature.

Kat brought it back to land, and deposited her tiny, soaked burden on the dry moss. Shakily standing, a tiny voice said “Thank you, you sweet thing! You saved my life!”

Getting a good look at last, Kat gasped. It was a fairy! A real-life fairy! She knew they existed of course, and everyone said this forest was mystic, but she’d only ever heard stories. The small creature had sky-blue skin, from tiny toes to dangling antennae. Moth wings, white with light brown dots, flapped out from a wee torso in an effort to dry them.

“Oh, toadstools- I haven’t introduced myself. Hello, human! I’m Baxter!”

“Hello, Baxter, I’m Kat. Are you alright?”

The little fairy grinned. “I’ve been wetter! I was almost in over my head in that situation! But thanks to you I’ll be all flight now!”

Kat giggled. The fairy grinned even more broadly. They loved it when people enjoyed their jokes.

“So, mister Kat!” they peeped cheerfully. “How can I repay you for saving my life?”

“Oh, it was no troub- wait, mister?”

“Fiddlesticks, did I get that wrong again? You humans and your non-fluid genders, I’ll never learn. Do you prefer miss, is that right term? More importantly, can I call you Kitty Kat?”

Kat scowled. “No one calls me Kitty. Well, except Cythy, and only because she’s my little sister. And Mama, but only to annoy me. I’m just Kat. Miss Kat, but only if you insist.”

Baxter shrugged philosophically. “Someday, I will find a kitty I can get along with. Actual cats keep trying to eat me. And - oh wait, I was asking a question back there wasn’t I. Oh yes. What can I do to repay you, my sweet Miss Kat?”

Kat grinned at the funny little creature. “You don’t need to do anything for me - unless you can turn me into not a disaster.”

“Exccuussee me?” the fairy asked, offended. They tested their now-dry wings, and fluttered up to Kat’s eye level. “Are you bad-talking my newest best friend?”

“Who’s your - oh. Me.” She shrugged. “It’s not bad-talking if it’s true. I am a disaster and my whole family - no, the whole village - knows it.”

“I will PHYSICALLY FIGHT YOU!” the fairy said, holding up tiny fists.

Kat eyed them with a crooked smile. The fairy’s body was all of four inches tall, their long curly antenna only adding another half inch. “I mean it!” they insisted fiercely. “You are great and perfect! You just saved my life! How could you not be!”

“Because I’m supposed to be a baker and I just can’t do any of it right. Not to mention actually running a business! I just mess everything up and make my family’s life harder.”

“You adorable wingless butterfly, I am sure that’s not true.”

“It is. Every last bread loaf burned today, all because of me. People needed those, and because of me Cythera and Mama will be exhausted tonight when they need to be preparing for tomorrow.”  

“I know!  I could help you! With just a pinch of magic, you won’t give loaf a bad name!”

Kat half-heartedly laughed at the pun, but couldn’t restrain her sighs. “But even then… I’d be dependent on that for everything. And it wouldn’t be fair to Cythera. She’s the one who can actually bake, and she’s so good at it. Plus, she’s already had so many good ideas about how to make Mama’s life easier. Why couldn’t she have been the oldest? She could inherit the store, like she deserves to. I just want to make beautiful things, without the pressure of knowing families rely on me every day to get food out early enough.”

Baxter frowned. “Have you asked if you can just… not inherit and let your sister take over? It seems like that would make everyone happy.”

“I want to, it’s just… I love my family so much, I would never want to do wrong by them. If I tell Mama I don’t want to run the shop… wouldn't that be rejecting all her hard work, and telling her it didn’t mean anything? And her mother’s work, and her mother’s mother’s work… they all took on the responsibility for our store and our family name. None of them shirked their duty. If I do, that’s who I’ll be my whole life. The Baker who wasn’t.” A tear fell from her cheek and landed on her stained apron.

Baxter sat on her shoulder, legs dangling past her collarbone. “Hey, kiddo, it’s alright! You would be happier, and so would your family - that’s all you could ask for, right?”

Kat shook her head, careful not to knock off her new friend. “It just feels wrong. I know I’m not the best at it, but I promised Mama I would. I promised Papa I would. How can I back out of a promise, especially if I don’t know it will work out? Or even what else I would do?”

“What do you want to do, Kat Not-a-Baker?”

“I want to create, but not from dough,” she whispered reverently. “I want to paint and draw, and make beautiful things. Permanent things,” she added, looking sadly at her drawings in the dirt. In the scramble to rescue Baxter, almost all the marks had been smudged or splashed away. “It always feels so natural and right, when I’m able to sketch, or doodle, or paint. But I don’t know if that means it’s what I’m really meant to do, or if I’m just frivolous and need to focus. That’s what Gran’mama always said, anyway.”

Baxter hummed. “I might be able to help you there,” they said, dangling their legs and swinging them a little. “With my help, you might be able to find just the right person who can tell you exactly what you’re meant to be.”

Kat turned her head to stare at the blue creature. “Like… like a Quest?!”

“Exactly like a Quest,” Baxter replied. They knew that techhhhhnicalllyy, they’re not supposed to be going off on Quests without becoming an official Fairy Godparent, but even official parents don’t get to choose their Godchildren. And Baxter liked Kat a lot.

Plus, the Elders were sticks-in-the-mud and kept saying that Baxter “wasn’t ready” and needed to “stop making so many puns” and “take this seeeeeriousssslyyy.”

All the younger fairies loved them, and thought their advice was great. Maybe if they proved they could be a really great Godparent to Kat, the Elders would finally see reason.

This was a great plan, they could feel it all the way to the tips of their wings.

“Have you heard of the Harz Forest, or the Fortuneteller of the Wood?” they asked, fluttering out in front of the teen.

“Only that humans almost never go in it, and that everyone who tries to enter gets lost. And Auntie Delinda says it’s because the magic folk scare or curse everyone to make sure only the worthy can reach the Teller, but Mama says that’s horseradish and that fortune-tellers are just regular people telling you what you want to hear.”

Baxter put their hands on their hips. “I am offended. Here I am, a real-life fairy, and you’re telling me the magic folk are horseradish?”

“Don’t blame me!” Kat said with a pout. “I’ve been looking for fairies, or unicorns, or even a dragon as long as it’s something magical, for my whole life, and I only just found you on accident today. If most humans have to go at least fifteen years without any clues, no wonder Mama thinks fairies have disappeared.”

Baxter looked chagrined. “The fae folk have been limiting our contact lately, it’s true. Does that mean your mother won’t let you come with me?”

“Not at all - when she sees you, and you tell her we’re going on a Quest! She’ll have to agree. She may be a skeptic, but even she knows the tales - that to be a fairy’s Goddaughter is special, and there are consequences of denying a fairy Quest.”

“That...is… absolutely right! Yes, what we’re doing is a true, official fairy Quest, because you, Kat Baker, are just too special to ignore, you delightful little cherub. Yessiree, you are indeed a Goddaughter, and I am your Official™ Fairy Godparent!” Baxter lied. It was for a good cause, after all.

“Did you say something after official? What is a tee-ehm? Is it like a fairy’s magic wand?”

“Uh, yes! Yes, that’s very wise of you to point out. I will need to stop by my colony to get my magic wand before we can leave. If you meet me here as early as you can tomorrow morning, we can go talk to your mother then. And then we can be off on our Quest - to find the Fortuneteller of the Wood!”

Kate leapt to her feet. “You mean it? Really? Tomorrow? Oh, I’m so excited! Yes, I will be here once the bread is out tomorrow, just after sunrise. I’ll see you tomorrow, Baxter!”

Baxter watched her go, then wheeled in midair to head back to the colony. He’d committed, now. All that was left to do was get a wand.

If Kat hadn’t been convinced that Baxter was magical, this proved it.

Her Mama, her skeptic, no-nonsense, stubborn Mama, had needed only 5 minutes talking with the little fairy to allow her to go off on her Quest. Mama had packed a haversack with the most durable loaves, and made sure she brought her Papa’s forest journal of edible plants.

“Take care of it, and yourself, my sweet Kat. I hope your Quest goes well, and that you find what you’re looking for,” she had said, hugging her tightly and kissing her forehead.

Cythy was jealous, but promised to support Mama. “Bring me back an extra prince, Kitty! Or tell Baxter to come live with us!” Their charm had clearly roped in the entire Baker family. It was something in those earnest brown eyes, and the wide smile. Plus, they seemed to give off respect like a perfume when they put their mind to it.

And now, not even a day later, they’d reached the edge of the Harz Forest. They knew that the Fortuneteller lived deep in the woods, at the furthest point from all the edges. Kat was dying of curiosity - what kept people away? Would it be scary? Would she be ready?

She and Baxter were following what path seemed to exist. It was faint, and definitely not commonly trod. But it definitely was moving steadily away from the edge of the forest, so it must be heading deeper in.

Baxter spent parts of the journey flying beside he, and parts sitting on her shoulder or on her pack, telling stories about antics they and their fae friends had gotten into, and slowly convincing the girl to let them call her Kitty Kat. They were in the middle of a rather entertaining story regarding Baxter’s first ill-fated attempt to befriend an actual cat when they suddenly pulled on Kat’s hair, squeaking “Pump the brakes there, kiddo.”

Kat looked around, confused. She didn’t see anything threatening - what was wrong?

Baxter flew out in front of her, soft wings flapping as they removed their wand from a tiny holster on their waist. Their eyes and wand glowed as they turned in a semicircle, continuing to hover. “Aha! Oh, that is just so clever,” they exclaimed. Turning to their human companion - no, their Goddaughter - Baxter explained, “It’s wood sprite magic. That’s what protects this forest. There are misdirection charms everywhere, designed to send any humans right back to the edges of the forest without realizing they’ve been turned around. It would work on anyone unable to cast spells, though magic folk like me might notice something funny. Luckily, I am your Godparent, and I am Prepared!”

A glow arose from the tip of their wand, spreading into a silvery bubble the enclosed fairy and human alike. It hung for a moment, then melted away. “We’ll be all set now - the spells won’t affect us. The sprites have gotten more strategic than I remember - time was they’d just try to strangle any intruders one by one. But this way, they only need to maintain the spell, and don’t risk losing any of their own!”

Kat rubbed her throat at the thought of wood sprites and strangulation. “Will they still try to stop us? Is there danger?”

“I don’t believe so. We just need to be careful to not harm any trees. Not that either of us wood,” they added, flying next to Kat just to elbow her lightly. She giggled. “No really! These wood sprites are all the same! No bite, all bark!”

“Baxter, you were definitely destined to be my Godparent. Papa used to make the same jokes all the time. I always groaned and complained, but I loved them. I wish I could have told him that.”

The blue fairy felt their heart squeeze. They flew up and stroke the girl’s head. “Kiddo, don’t you worry. He knew.”

As Baxter had predicted, they didn’t encounter any trouble. It was a far distance to walk, but they were able to find small clearings to sleep in. At night, Baxter cast a protection spell just in case, and included heat in the ward, so there was no need to harm any trees for firewood.

It took two nights and three days of walking before Baxter noticed heavier layers of magic, and Kat spotted a break in the trees ahead. “This must be it!” Kat said excitedly. “The center of the forest - we’re almost at the home of the Fortuneteller of the Wood!”

They were expecting a cottage, maybe a tower. What they found was a huge natural home built in the heart of a tree. A sprawling tree, at least fifteen feet in diameter, twisted up towards the clouds above. A hollow in the middle of the trunk contained what looked like a natural staircase as the tree continued to grow around it. The stairs twined within the trunk before disappearing into a dense canopy.

“Should we… go up?” Kat asked nervously. “I hate to barge in…”

“The Teller probably isn’t used to guests, so wouldn’t know to check for us,” Baxter noted. “Let’s see where the stairs lead.”

They climbed up carefully, both in awe of the massive natural being. They reached the top only to find a room made out of twined branches. The floor was a net of branches in all directions, curving up and around to create the walls. It felt a bit like standing in a wicker basket - a still-living basket that pulsed with green life on every side.

Kat made eye contact with Baxter, who nodded encouragingly. She took a deep breath, and called out “Mr. Fortuneteller? Teller of the Wood? I come seeking my destiny!”

They heard a rustling above them. Through the leaves and branches above her head, Kat saw a form swinging back and forth from branch to branch. It descended quickly, but with what was clearly ease of long practice. The form finally dropped deftly in front of the fairy and human guests in its home, bracing its landing with a bended knee.

The form rose to full height. It was a long way to go. Baxter’s first thought was a druid or a sprite grown to fifty times its size, but neither druids nor sprites could be fortune-tellers. No, this was just a Sage who’d chosen to blend in with his home. His skin was a dark, warm brown, made even darker by his leathery tan. His hair was a mixture of dark and light green, falling messily into his face and almost - almost - obscuring shockingly bright green eyes. His cheeks had what could have been greenish stubble, but could also be lichen. At his full height, he was at least six feet tall, towering over both his guests.

Baxter was absolutely overcome. They would have expected the Sage to stand awkwardly, but his body was well-proportionate to his height, and he was clearly in his element surrounded by his wooded home. When Baxter was finally able to pull his eyes away from the tall tree man, he noticed wood sprites darting in and out of the tree room, flitting around their giant counterpart and away.

“Welcome, Seeker,” the Teller said at last. His voice was rough with disuse, but shiveringly deep, and Baxter could feel himself swooning as he fluttered by Kat’s shoulder.  “I am the one some call the Fortuneteller of the Wood. My name is Devas.”

Kat gave a small curtsy. “Greetings, Devas. I am Katherine Baker, Kat. And this is my fairy Godparent, Baxter.”

“A Quest, is this? You must be very special to have a fairy Quest bring you to me. Particularly when I have not been an active Fortune Teller in over a hundred years.”

Kat beamed with pride. “They are an excellent Godparent, and have guided me here to help me find my destiny!”

Devas hesitated, and seemed ready to decline, but paused when the small blue fairy came up to just below eye level. Baxter felt their tiny heart beating much quicker as those emerald eyes inspected him. Devas rumbled, “I have been acting as protector to the sprites of this forest, helping the trees themselves repel advancing farmers and conquerors. Tell me, fairy, why I should resume the ancient duties I had left behind these many years?”

Baxter shivered, partly in fear, and partly not in fear at all. They drew a deep breath, and channeled their innate magic to sweeten the mood of the giant man. “Devas, great Sage, we have journeyed long to find you. My  young friend here - that is, my Goddaughter, is torn between duty and passion. She just wants to know which choice will be Right. Can you, Heart of the Harz, Teller of the Wood, please help her? It’s for her family!”

Devas had never seen a fairy with such striking brown eyes, made all the more startling by the contrast from their bright blue body. And the way the little thing looked at him as they asked, on behalf of their charge… Devas may have been committed to his forest home, but he didn’t have a wooden heart. He relented.

“Very well, young Seeker. Do you know the invocation?” he asked as relaxed his lanky form into a tailor’s seat. Sitting, he still almost as tall as the teen who cautiously approached him.

“I do, great Teller,” she said, taking a breath. “Sage, I entreat you, tell me my destiny.”

“Seeker, to know your destiny is to be bound by it. Are you prepared to risk your future?”

“I am.” Her small face was determined.

“Then give me your hands, and prepare to be bound.”

Devas’ huge brown hands enveloped Kat’s, the paler skin of his palms still not as light as hers. He closed his eyes and looked into the ether.

Kat Baker. What a relief. No dragons or quests or risking the world. She just wanted to know if she was wrong to have an ‘impractical’ passion. It reminded Devas fondly of the farmers from all those years ago at Delphi. No grand decisions of right and wrong - just hoping that life will go her way. And it was within her power - no magic needed. If only all destinies were like this, Devas might not have escaped to the woods for his current lifetime. He smiled internally, and spoke.

“To trust that beauty will be recognized, you must commit with all your heart.”

Kat withdrew her hands, her eyes shining. She looked up at her fluttering companion and grinned. “Baxter, did you hear that! That sounds like a good sign!”

“It sure does kiddo! I can hardly be-leaf it!”

Something was bothering Devas. This wasn’t his first interaction with a fairy Godparent, and this one was… different. Much less polished. Far more scattered than fairies tended to want Godparents to be. And Devas was just a tad suspicious.

“Fairy - Baxter, was it? Do you seek a destiny as well? On behalf of your Quest, I will Tell it for you, if you wish.”

“Ohhh I don’t know that that’s necessary, my future can really stay a mys-tree!”

“Oh Bax, don’t be silly!” Kat piped up. “Even if you know you’re going to keep being a fairy Godparent, don’t you want a hint for how things will go?”

A strained look flashed across the little creatures’ blue face. They fluttered up towards the leafy ceiling, muttering to themself. Finally, they descended, and landed on Devas’ large palm. “I… suppose there are questions I have for the future. Here goes nothing. Sage, I entreat you, tell me my destiny.”

“Seeker, to know your destiny is to be bound by it. Are you prepared to risk your future?”

Baxter’s face turned a much lighter shade of blue, but they proceeded nonetheless. “I am.”

“Then give me your hands, and prepare to be bound.”

Two tiny hands wrapped around the Sage’s thumb as the ether clouded his vision once more.

As he gazed through flashing futures, Devas immediately felt his suspicions were well-founded. There were possible future Godchildren, yes, but far more were ending up selfish, or cruel, or cowardly than fairies were supposed to allow. And in the futures without Godchildren, Baxter was exiled entirely, shut out of their colony. Devas frowned. He didn’t see any future choices that caused it. What could the fairy have already done? Was it worth it to check?

A sudden voice, high-pitched but firm and filled with disdain. “Once a thief, forever a thief.” It came from a grave-looking fairy, clearly much older than Baxter, surrounded by a group of stone-faced elders. That was it. Devas was going to look into the past.

Devas is Baxter, sitting with a smaller, younger fairy. “Now Felics, I know you didn’t mean to hurt Poppy, but you did hurt them, and you need to apologize. “But Bax, what if they are still mad at me? Can’t I just wait until they feel better?” “No, kiddo, you can’t. Sometimes doing the right thing doesn’t feel all that great.”

The world shifts, to only hours later. Devas feels their fairy heart fluttering as quickly as their wings with nerves. Their prank went wrong, and their best friend is furious with them. Why can’t they understand it was a joke? Devas always meant it to be a joke, they should know that. If they don’t understand that and don’t want to be part of the delights that are Devas’ brilliant pranks, maybe it’s best they not be friends anymore.

Devas paused in his visions. He recognized the sentiment - feelings always threatened to overpower better judgment. But to give in to the emotional reaction just after urging the impressionable not to? No wonder their potential future Godchildren could be so… petty.

It is night, just a few days ago. Devas flies silently through the colony. They’d slipped through the illusion on the huge, mossy boulder during the ritual hour, as everyone was out in fairy circles. Their luck is doubly in - only one Elder is guarding the inner vault, and it’s Blunda. She is old and sleepy, and it takes just a whispered suggestion with a tiny twist of magic to have her snoring. Devas grins to themself. Clearly, this is why they would make a great Godparent. They’re so resourceful! The Elders really didn’t know what they were missing, delaying their first deployment. They fly into the vault, and found racks upon racks of magic wands. Bee-ee-ay-youtiful. They select a belt and holster from the tray, then reach for one of the magic objects. As they snatch it, they sense alarm spells going off, zooming to the Elders. Time for their escape. They race past Blunda (still sleeping) and take a hidden shortcut through the colony walls, escaping into open air. They feel a slight twinge against their conscience. They know stealing is Wrong, but who else would help Kat? The Elders were so particular in which children were named Godchildren. Baxter likes Kat a lot, and she was so kind to them. So helping her must be Right, and anything they do that helps her is also Right.

Right?

Devas drew back, frowning. Now the futures all made sense. But the fairy can’t be beyond all help, are they? Devas knew he was likely overstepping, but he asked Baxter a clarifying question.

“Fairy, what do you want your destiny to be? What do you want to be your life’s work and legacy?”

Baxter smiled cheerfully.  “I want to be a Good Fairy and Godparent, and help as many kiddos as I can, and bring smiles to their faces!”

“Can a Godparent be Good if their idea of Good shifts?” Devas asked quietly.

The fairy went pale. Devas nodded, then spoke Baxter’s destiny.

“A willow that bends without end supports no weight. An unforgiving oak will break those that oppose it. Only if you can resist these extremes will the forest path be revealed to you.”

Baxter’s tiny mouth hung open, processing what the forest Sage had said. They had a lot to consider.

As fairy and girl made their way along the long journey home, Kat asked Baxter what they were thinking, unnerved by their uncharacteristic silence.

“Kitty Kat, have I been a good Godparent to you? Have I helped you figure out the Right thing to do?”

“Of course you’ve been good! You got us to the Sage and now I know what I need to do! At least I think I do.”

“But do I do what’s Right? Or just what I think will make me happy?”

“Both, I think!”

“What about when they’re not the same?”

Kat frowned. “I don’t know. I don’t think that’s happened, has it?”

Baxter’s insides twisted. Should they have admitted to Kat that the wand was stolen? But that would mean admitting that they hadn’t been assigned to her, that she hadn’t been picked as a Goddaughter. Would that hurt her? Wouldn’t she feel liked Baxter had betrayed her?

Their sudden realization caused them to fly straight into a tree branch.

They were asking themselves entirely the wrong questions. They couldn’t focus on the perceived outcomes of their actions, but on what was the right thing to do. And the right thing to do was to tell Kat the truth. All of it.

They had betrayed Kat, by lying, and convincing her to leave her family on false pretenses. The forest hadn’t been dangerous, but it could have been, and Kat would have been at risk of her life without even knowing why.

“Kiddo? I mean, Kat? Can we take a break for a second,” they asked nervously.

“Of course, Baxter. Are your wings tired?”

“No, I just… need to get something off my chest.”

“We’d better sit down then. Wouldn’t want you to get crushed!” Kat replied with a goofy grin. The cheesy joke, so like their own, made Baxter grin back in spite of themself.

Kat settled carefully in a mossy clearing, checking for saplings before sitting gently. Even though there was no longer a threat, she didn’t want to harm Devas’ forests.

Baxter found a sapling, barely over two feet tall, and alit on the top-most branch. Leaning against the slender trunk, they let their wings fall back into a rest position. They looked down at their tiny blue feet, not wanting to make eye contact with Kat just yet.

“I… I want to apologize, Kat. I have not been a good Godparent to you.”

Kat looked at him quizzically. “Bax, what do you mean? You’ve been so nice! And we succeeded in our Quest to find the Teller, and we’re practically home already. That all sounds like a great Godparent to me!”

“That’s just it, Kat. It wasn’t a Quest, not truly. And… I’m not a real Godparent. I just really, really wanted to be one. I’m so sorry,” Baxter said sadly. They looked up. Kat’s face was one of confusion, but her eyes still radiated trust for her magical companion of the past week. They felt their heart squish itself into an even tighter corner of their chest.

“The fae folk have a lot of very strict rules over who can be deployed as a Godparent, and who can be a Godchild. I’ve always resented those rules, because the Elders kept telling me I wasn’t ready, and I was so sure that I was.

“But now I understand, finally, why I never was. Kat, I… I lied to you. From practically the moment we first met. I was never chosen to be your Godparent. And to the best of my knowledge… you were never chosen to be a Godchild.”

Kat’s confusion shifted into clear self-doubt, and her eyes started to mist over with tears. This was even harder than Baxter had feared it would be.

“Kitty Kat, I promise you, it’s not because you aren’t brilliant, or talented, or delightful. There are just very exacting standards. It always feels like the Elders have some weird measuring cord - ‘Must Be This Miserable or Have This Much Potential Greatness or Must Have Been This Much Switched At Birth to Get a Fairy’. It’s not about who deserves one, I don’t think, but about whose life absolutely needs magical help to spread the most good in the world. And we don’t want to admit it, but we fae folk are shrinking in number. We live for hundreds of years, yes, but almost all our colonies are aging, and we don’t have as many potential parents to deploy. I’ve never heard of a fairy living over 1,000, and my Elders are all well into their 900s...”

Baxter shook their head. “Sorry, I’m getting distracted. That’s not the point. The point is… I wanted so badly to have the title of Godparent, to skip the process and go right to the glory, that I lied to you. I justified it because I was helping you, but I was really just trying to help myself. I lied to your family, and brought you out to these woods. What if they had been truly dangerous? If you’d been hurt… Kitty Kat, I would never forgive myself. And it would have been all my fault. I even stole this wand from my colony’s vaults, and told myself I deserved to have one. I am glad that you got to hear your destiny, and that you feel confident in your path moving forward. I really am. But you deserved better than me - as a Godparent or as a friend. And for that, I am truly sorry.”

They took a deep breath, still avoiding the girl’s eyes. “I understand if you are mad at me. I hope you will still allow me to accompany you until the end of this journey, so that I can at least protect you until you are safe at home.”

Long moments passed. Kat still had not made a sound. Baxter cringed. She hates me. She must. How could she not - I am a thief and a liar and I risked her life for my own ego.

Or maybe, she is just nervous. I should reassure her. If she needs to be reassured, I need to be the one to do it. I owe her that much, at least.

They peered up, still cringing, prepared for anger and disgust. They instead saw disappointment. Somehow, that was even worse.

“I… don’t know what to say. Thank you for telling me the truth.” Kat looked down, fiddling with the frayed hem of her apron. “I’m glad that I did get to meet the Teller, at least. And the sprites. I’m glad I know there is a destiny where I am happy, and pursuing my dream. I just wish… I wish I’d actually deserved it.”

Baxter’s heart broke.

“Kitty Kat… you did deserve it. And you do. Kat, please look at me,” Baxter pleaded. The girl reluctantly met their eyes, her own bright with unshed tears. “Kat, you deserve all of this and more. Certainly more than this shoddy excuse for a fake Godparent. I… know I haven't exactly been trustworthy. Ask me to swear by anything, though. I really and truly mean it.”

Kat frowned. “Swear by your destiny, then. The tales all say that breaking an oath will destroy the magic of what you swear by. Will you risk it? Or will you take the easy way out again?”

Baxter swallowed. Her tone hurt, but they knew they deserved it. “I will, Kat. I will swear by my destiny that you deserved this quest, and you deserved a Godparent. Even if I wasn’t the one you deserved.”

Both fairy and human regarded each other in silence for a moment. The only sound was the whispers of wind in the treetops above.

Finally, Kat nodded. “Thank you, Baxter. I believe you. And… I forgive you.”

“Why? I mean, really? You don’t have to, I know it was wrong and hurtful, you don’t have to be okay with it already…”

“But that’s just it, Bax,” the girl said. She stood, and reached out a hand for the fairy to step on. “You know now. I think, maybe, you knew before too, but you didn’t want to admit it. Because it was too hard, or too painful. But now you have, despite that.” She held small blue being up to her eye level. “You made mistakes, Bax. And your mistakes hurt others. But I don’t think you’ll ever make those mistakes again, now that you see that. I think you’re a Good fairy, and have always been one deep down. You just know to listen to that deep-down voice more now.”

Baxter tried to swallow the quickly-forming lump in their throat. She believed in them. After everything they’d brought her through, and everything they’d admitted, she believed. They’d never felt like anyone believed in them before. Even before they’d become a prankster, no one in the colony had ever seemed to expect them to be anything special or Good.

“Thank you, Kat. I am going to try my best, and keep trying even when I don’t quite get there. I hope you’ll be proud of me.”

“I know I will be. Swear on my destiny,” she said with a smile.

Baxter flew closer and hugged as much of her face as they could. “I’m sorry I was a fake Godparent, but I am so glad you were my fake Goddaughter. When we get back - will you be my not-fake friend?”

Kat carefully pat their head as a hug back, smiling. “Just you try and stop me!”

Fairy and human set off to the forest’s edge, heading home again. The sprite spells helped guide them away from the heart of the woods, and away from the Sage who’d given them both hope. Baxter was sorry they would likely never see Devas again, but one destiny was enough for anyone���s lifetime.

Besides, the Sage could only get so much credit. Finding him had been a grand adventure, but it was their young human friend who’d truly helped them find what they’d been missing.

Kat had rescued them, the first day they’d met. Now, she’d rescued them again, but for the rest of their life. If it hadn’t been for her, they might never have found their morality.

Notes:

Baxter’s wings are based on the moth Eudeilinia herminiata. Fun fact - this type of moth feeds exclusively trees from the dogwood genus

(did I specifically surround Baxter with Kat and Dog(wood)s yes, yes I did)

Baxter: Anglo-Saxon/Scottish origin, means “baker”

[queenofnohr]

@yariyumi (abt amari’s stuff)

huhhhhhhh. I mean I thought it was the case that they ran out of time/budget since Last Encore was SUPER short. I guess I’ll check out the drama CD sometime maybe and see how it treats her when not having to be bogged down by that?

I did like her conceptually; seeing her inner pain about “always being the weakest” was interesting it’s just that they didn’t do anything beyond that so it was like. ok. thanks for looking like you were gonna lead up to Some Dank Emotional Bullshit i guess????

But regarding timelines.......

Idk something isn’t really adding up for me with that explanation? I mean, they don’t really make it clear regardless, and it’s canon that the Moon Cell does it’s little thing fuckin over and over and over again a la Twice........ But there seems to be no small amount of blame placed on Hakunon that implies that her not defeating Twice was the reason the Moon Cell got all fucky in the first place? There’s one bit toward the end in particular when discussing the outcome of Hakunon vs. Leo where DF!Hakuno is thinking about maybe this wouldn’t have all happened if it was Leo who won instead of Hakunon since he was so strong

There’s also the fact that Twice even says “No one came” until Hakuno in ep 13. As well as Rani and Rin not able to ascend or die not being a result of the moon cell ceasing to function. The Moon Cell couldn’t properly observe who was the winner or loser so it did The Thing to them, but they were already locked into that state BEFORE the Moon Cell ceased to function. Because it ceased to function, it used “humans as [the floor’s] gears” since it couldn’t sustain itself any longer, but locking Rin and Rani into that fight happened before shit was fucky and they were fighting for nearly 1000 years, which directly lines up with the amount of time everyone else has been suffering/the amount of time elapsed since everything got fucky/etc.

Same with Alice’s bit. Things look normal in DF!Hakuno’s flashbacks of her; there’s even reaction shots of her sometimes after he leaves of Buddha/Twice’s thing appearing in the sky and everyone freaking out about the grail war being fucked. But in the actual beginning of the flashbacks, things look more-or-less alright. And Nero commenting that “moving up a floor due to someone surrendering was rare, but she knew of it happening” contrasted directly against those flashbacks of M!Hakuno going up and their whole backstory, the implication here being that Nero knew about M!Hakuno and Alice even if she didn’t know it was them, exactly, and if so it would confirm that M!Hakuno existed at the same time as Hakunon (with his servant being fuckingggg Suzuka Gozen LMAO), but probably died after she failed against Twice since, while the Moon Cell was still A Thing Fuctioning Properly, it doesn’t look like it adheres strictly to the Week-style the OG Extra was in that would put all masters and such on the same page after elimination battles. Then he was probably in Moon Cell Purgatory and eventually just kind of......... merged with all the accumulated hatred (along with Hakunon) to be the “arm” of that hatred after nearly 1000 years of marinating in that hell.

(as a side note, it’s actually kind of eyebrow raising the Mount Purgatory a la Dante’s Divine Comedy parallels to the floor system here and I guess like the themes and progression of everything??? especially since Mount Purgatory had 7 terraces with the very top being Earthly Paradise wherein Dante witnesses a procession of an allegory within the allegory that is already The Divine Comedy, and is drastically different stylistically different than the rest of Purgatorio, that becomes a theological masque wherein characters cease to be people and are instead symbols, and reads as a grand drama and another one of God’s art. It’s also wherein Dante is reunited with Beatrice and where he ascends to heaven with her as his guide. THAT’S KIND OF A TANGENT and I think maybe the similarities are more parallel to other works that have had their own interpretations of Dante’s Purgatory (I’m thinking specifically of Umineko no Naku Koro Ni) but it still works incredibly well considering the framework)

I’d have to re-watch the series focusing strictly on timeline, but from especially those bits that stood out to me, it seems like Hakunon losing to Twice was somewhat of a trigger for the moon cell falling the fucketh apart

[talesofnecromancy]

June 2017 #121

H: Darlin’.

Me: How are you?

H: Well enough thank you.

Me: What did you do today?

H: (weathering a coughing fit) I did not… achieve much.

Me: Were you coughing like that all day?

H: Yes. I read. Played with the kits.

Me: Whatcha reading?

H: Dante.

Me: Translated from medieval Italian isn’t it? I haven’t read it - should I?

H: I do not think you would (coughing badly again) appreciate him as he’d wish you to. Even if some phrases hold a pleasing macabre lyricism.

Me: Have you read Paradise Lost?

H: Yes.

Me: How does it compare?

H: Stick with the latter. You cannot swear and roll your eyes at Dante in the same manner as with Byron.

Me: I have a terrible confession to make.

H: (coughing) You never read Byron either.

Me: Nope. For a vivacious reader with a classical education I do have some shocking holes in my reading library.

H: ….You had a classical education?

Me: What passes for it these days - which is a lot more classical than it gets in America. Kal complains about that bitterly - all the history and literature he wasn’t taught. What would you consider a classical education for a young lady?

H: Mostly music, manners, dance, deportment, but a seneschal’s duty too - the running…

Me: Darlin’, I know what a seneschal is. We had castles.

H: O. Yes.

Me: So, pretty, witty, entertaining, capable of running the household top to bottom but never with any money or real agency of their own?

H: (thoughtful) It depended upon the household… K was obsessed with money.

Me: How so?

H: She’d had it in swathes and then been reduced to nothing. She had not been taught coin was a vulgar topic. For her it was a right she hated to be without.

Me: What about you?

H: (Another bad coughing fit) Nobility was a right, but it could be lost or stripped. Money was not a thing a man ought to let stand in the way of his manners, mode or business…

(I sigh, uncomfortable. H never owned slaves, but his family did, and when he was young before the war no doubt he imagined he’d grow up and do likewise. To be fair to him, he’s incredibly liberal for one born to that set of values. If you ever want to get H spitting mad, mention the Jim Crow laws. He thinks segregation was the only thing America did that was dumber than prohibition.)

H: I know. Our pride in our actions and our blood was often misplaced. We thought to recreate Athenian splendor…

Me: What?! Fucking really?

H: In our way, yes.

Me: Yeah, your education was far more classical than mine - no one ever told me slavery was good… But, when my father was at school they all still lauded the ideal of British Empire and that was near the same thing, so I’m sure as hell not on any moral high-ground…

H: (sharply) What are you drinking?

Me: Attempt #2 at frontier whiskey.

H: Looks wrong. Smells of blackstrap and… mallow?

Me: Licorice. I am now extra entertained by any wanker who claims you drank a quart of whiskey a day. A shot of this stuff is about all that’s bearable.

H: (coughing) I would never have called your mood entertained before…

Me: I loathe slander. And I react badly to things I loathe. As proved the other night. Are the wards, the kits, the blade and everything else okay?

H: Yes. …When will you change your hair?

Me: To silver white? In a week. It needs a little time to recover. Why?

H: (smiling) I look forward to it.

Me: Why?

H: You will look more like your ideal. Perhaps you will see what I see.

Me: Darlin’, I don’t think I’ll ever see what you see where I’m concerned. But I’m keen on silver white - I find it very weird to have this yellow on my head…

(H looked surprised and a little hurt. But then his ash-blond is far nicer than my bleached locks.)

Me: (laughing) Sorry! I’m sorry…

H: (sourly) Charmed I’m sure!

Me: Come on - it would be equally weird for you if you… H please don’t ever dye your hair dark.

H: That daguerreotype you spoke of.

(There have been several photographs over the years miss-attributed as H. One in particular crops up a lot and is startlingly unattractive.)

Me: (muttering) Dark hair, jug ears, bloody Innsmouth look!

H: Insmoth?

Me: Never mind.

H: Morrow is dark haired. (coughing)

Me: If you cosplay Morrow that’s gonna get all sorts of meta!

H: I don’t take your meaning.

Me: Like two mirrors reflecting. I based him on you. If you dressed up as him, how odd would that be?

H: (coughing and finally catching his breath) I see.

Me: Don’t get me wrong, you want to dress as Morrow I’ll join you… as MB or Cait probably.

H: Yes. I can see you as MB in an extravagant witching hat… I’d rather you were Cait though.

Me: Although I haven’t the skin for either.

H: So?

Me: It’s considered poor taste to play dress-up in an ethnicity or culture you can’t lay claim to. (I talk for a bit about representation in art and also cultural appropriation.) That’s why I can’t really play at being Cait. It’s not unfair - it’s a start at re-balancing the draw of the deck.

H: Only if it’s done right.

Me: You know as well as I - history isn’t good at ‘right’, only ‘right now’ and everyone has to do their best with that… You’re unhappy - and it’s not history or humanity - what is it?

H: …Reading Dante I believe I understand your star.

Me: Bedlam?

H: Yes.

Me: Why’s that terrible?

H: I… it… I have seen rage and vengeance… and we only had guns…

Me: Ah. Yeah, but I’ve got better thing to do than go off on a vendetta. Anyhow, there isn’t anything in this world I hate enough to be vengeful against. Except Alzheimer’s, and I’ve no idea how I’d get Bedlam to eat that.… Are you afraid of my having Bedlam?

H: At first. I have seen good people turned by power and circumstance. And they only had bullets.

Me: Bedlam’s not that doom!

(I was given a tired and what I can only describe as ‘old fashioned’ look by H.)

Me: It’s not - H! - it’s…

H: (quietly) I wouldn’t favour my chances.

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