#look the moment they introduced that concept in the fortress I was gone

[ahomeganeyatsu]

So, I just started doing the second part of the Archon quest in Fontaine and I was wondering if you guys have any fic recs where Neuvie ends up in the Fortress of Meropide and has to earn credits? 🥺🥺🥺

[esamastation]

Roy doesn't know exactly when the new alchemist joins them on the field.

It's a bad time - they're establishing a new camp in the town and the area is under constant assault, it seems. Small strikes on all sides, seemingly from nowhere, taking out a man there, another there, crippling a truck, taking out a road… The Ishvalans are using some sort of network of tunnels, the brass thinks, and it's Roy's job to smoke them out. So that's what he's been doing, seemingly all week… smoking out the supposed tunnels.

There are no tunnels, though. The Ishvalans are just getting desperate and in their desperation they're figuring out new methods. They have home field advantage and new tricks of camouflaging themselves in the rubble that used to be their home. Ruins of a people, blending in the ruins the Amestrians had made of their houses. They're learning to live with it, to work with it, because it's all they have - and they're getting good because they have little choice in the matter.

No one is listening to Roy when he points it out, though. There's a dismissiveness to the higher ups, when it comes to the evolution of Ishvalan tactics. "What are they doing now, praying for better guns?" As though this war, hasn't already gone on three times as long as originally projected.

Roy is thinking about it, staring at a crooked, unlit cigarette someone had put into his shaking hands, when he's introduced to the new alchemist.

"Good news, Mustang," Hughes says, with absolutely no joy in his cheerful smile, and less so in his cheerful voice. It sounds like he's chewing charcoal. "You're getting partner."

Roy looks up, his mind still in the meeting room, thinking about numbers on a map, how they didn't quite capture the reality of charred skeletons. It takes a moment for what he sees in front of him to sink in.

Another blue uniform, still pressed sharp and bright new under the beige overcoat that's supposed to protect it and it's wearer from the dust and heat of Ishval. What stands before him isn't a soldier though - it's barely a man. It's a short blond boy, no older than sixteen at most, with heavy non-regulation boots and silver watch chain at his hip.

The horror and disgust that wells up it's barely a blip before it's smothered under, oh, of course, and shit, are we here already? Then Roy stands up, puts the unlit cigarette away and holds out his right hand.

"Major Roy Mustang - the Flame Alchemist."

The blond boy smiles, crooked and sharp and just as mirthless as Hughes beside him. "Nick Flamel - the Fullmetal Alchemist." His grip is tight and brief, his hand gloved.

He'd be the newest youngest State Alchemist then. Roy had heard his record had been beaten, though he hadn't really paid attention to who or how.

Hughes looks between them and for a moment his eyes show a certain desperation. Then he covers it up and pats Flamel's shoulder. "Fullmetal here is stationed under you until he gets a hang of things - you'll show him the ropes, teach him what's what."

Keep him alive, is what Hughes' eyes say, and no wonder. Being as young as he is, the kid can't have much in the way of training. Alchemists don't need to go through basic, after all - they're not there to march or shoot guns or stand in lines. Flamel had probably just gotten his watch, his uniform, and a one way ticket to Ishval. To one of the worst, most contested zones at that. Shit.

Did the brass send the kid here to die?

"What's your specialty - metallurgical transmutation?" Roy asks.

"I don't have a speciality, really," Flamel says and pushes his hands into the pockets of his overcoat. It doesn't quite fit him right - too wide across shoulders, a bit too long. They'd either left some growing room, or they just didn't have a uniform small enough. "But I'm damn good at environmental alchemy, which I figure is what I'll be doing the most around here."

Roy blinks. "Environmental alchemy," he repeats.

"I can make the battleground my bitch," Flamel says, his crooked smile sharpening.

And abruptly Roy is already exhausted with the kid. He's one of those, then, a cocky little sumbitch, top of his class and talk of the town, so used to being the top dog of his little bubble that he has no concept of what the real world is like outside that little bubble. Guys like him come swaggering in all the time, all big talk and smug grins, so sure they're going to be carrying their little superiority complexes spotlessly over the finish line that they walk into the first fucking landmine that comes across.

Roy sees himself holding the kid's hand after he gets gunned down, still thinking himself invulnerable, and it's exhausting.

"What?" Flamel asks, suspicious at his silence.

Hughes, giving the kid the exact same look Roy must be, clears his throat. "How about you show us?" he suggests. "So we'll have an idea what we're working with here."

Flamel arches a brow at that and then looks around, light brown - or are they burnished gold? - eyes narrowing in thought.

Their camp is still a mess from the last attack - they're fixing the fences and filling the holes in the road that got busted in the smattering of mortar fire from two days ago. The perimeter is more secure now, for a given value of secure. They'd chosen the highest spot in the town, the temple mount, to give them a high vantage point - better than being penned into a valley. It leaves them pretty damn open though.

Flamel looks over the houses they'd taken over, the tents pitched in the streets and the flag of Amestris hung over the prayer hall, and clicks his tongue. Then he claps his hands together, and crouches down.

For a split of a second, barely a blink, it looks like he's praying.

Then he slaps his hands on the street beneath their feet - and in a crackle of alchemical energy and rumble of displaced earth, the street reforms. The dirt flattens, grows perfect paving stones, shifts to form neat walkways on the sides, even forming gutters. Between one breath and the next, they have a perfect Amestrian city street, formed from the dust of Ishval, surrounded by Ishvalan buildings.

While the soldiers on the newly reformed street let out shouts of shock, Roy just stares, his mind trying to jump hoops figuring out how the kid just did that. Circles in his skin, under his sleeves, inside his gloves…?

Hughes whistles, hiding his wild eyes in a squint. "Nice. You know, it doesn't rain much around here," he comments.

"So?" Flamel asks.

"The gutters aren't really necessary."

Flamel looks at the street he'd made, hands resting on his hips, and shrugs. "Eh, can't hurt," he says and motions at the street. "Anyway, imagine that, but spikes instead of paving stones."

Roy swallows and looks at the kid, who's just standing there, seemingly in no way bothered. Fullmetal doesn't look smug or proud of what he'd done, only grinning a little bit at the way the soldiers throw away their shovels, no longer needed. If this isn't something for the him to even brag about, then…

Roy has in his head an image of the kid doing a field of spikes under a charging assault force, eviscerating people by the dozens, and it's clearly not Flamel's only trick. It's probably not even in his top five.

Fuck, the kid would end up with a three digit death toll by his first engagement.

"Right," Roy says. He isn't sure what his face is doing but going Hughes' expression, it's probably not good. "You can make gutters. How about trenches?"

Flamel grins, his eyes like molten metal. "Try me."

-

By the end of the week - no, by the end of the day their camp is hugely improved by Flamel. The fence is turned into a solid stone wall, constructed within minutes from the remains of bombed out houses. Another pile of rubble is turned into a watch tower. They have trenches, they have pits, Flamel even adds a moat and spikes around the camp, like they're in an ancient fortress or something. Hell, there's even gargoyles in the corners of the wall.

They go from one of the least secure camps to one of the most heavily fortified seemingly overnight. It's a huge boost to troop morale - not so for Roy's sanity. Flamel doesn't even look winded by the end of his improvements.

"How are you doing the circles?" Roy asks finally - bit of a social Faux Pas among alchemists, especially military alchemists, but he has to ask. Flamel made entire buildings, and he hadn't stopped to draw a single sigil.

"In my head," Flamel says, shrugging. Like that makes any sense.

Roy looks at him and then at the changes he's made, and can't say it's impossible - he can see the results with his own eyes. And they're more than impressive, they're…

Flamel isn't going to be here long, he realises. Whether the brass send the kid here to get rid of him or not, the moment word about Flamel's real abilities spread, he'd be snagged by the first general with any fucking sense. The kid's a powerhouse. Roy is too, of course, that's why he's here - but Fullmetal is a different kind of powerhouse. Just by himself, he would be able to establish a secure foothold in the middle of enemy territory and that's not someone you just let sit idle.

Roy looks at the kid and feels torn between feeling sorry, jealous and a little bit bitter. If only he was a bit higher in rank, he could keep Flamel and make a full use his abilities - and maybe keep him from becoming a mass murderer in the process.

"What was your exam like?" Roy asks. There's no way the kid showed even a fraction of these abilities, he wouldn't be here at all if he had. "How'd you end up with a name like Fullmetal?" From what he'd seen something like Earth Moving or Groundbreaking would've been more apt.

"I made a spear in my exam," Flamel says, not looking at him. "And pointed it at Bradley."

"... And they didn't arrest you?"

Flamel smirks a little and looks at him. "What did you do?" he asks. "I bet you scorched something."

Roy had. He'd been welcomed in on the spot. "Training dummies," he agrees, giving him a pointed look. "Because I don't have a death wish."

Flamel shrugs. "It got me what I wanted," he says and stretches his arms. "So, what comes next?"

Roy looks at their newly secure camp. "Depends on the Colonel, but I bet you'll be doing more road work. We need a clear path in and out of the town."

Even though the town is officially theirs, that doesn't stop the guerilla attacks - but now, with a secure camp, all they needed was a clear path for troops to move in and then it'd be only a matter of time. If the two of them weren't already reassigned by then, they'd be after the supply line was secure. Alchemists weren't wasted in safe stations.

"But that's tomorrow's problem," Roy decides. "Come in, kid - let's get something to eat."

- - -

Nostalgia is doing rounds in my brain.

[jaskiersvalley]

I dont know why, but I didn't realise you had an ao3 account and I've just read "Write it better" it was so lovely. Oh gosh it made me well up. I love all your work and always read any post you make as soon as I see it. I'm so excited to make my way through your ao3 account!

There’s quite a few things coming to the AO3 account soon that won’t be posted on here :D I had signed up for a couple of events - the Geralt/Jaskier Big Bang posted last week and there are a couple of Reverse Big Bangs that will be posting soon too which I’m super excited about. While the posting date comes around for those, I can offer you a short fic on here as thanks for your kind words. <3

Heart to the Arrow

A witcher’s heart was protected under so many layers that Jaskier was certain nothing could ever get through it. Prickly, grumpy and smelly, witchers really had the whole shtick of ‘hurt others before they hurt you’ down to a tee. At first Jaskier had thought it was just Geralt who was like that. But then he met Lambert and Eskel. With Lambert the technique was so much more obvious, he snapped and snarled, lashing out at the smallest of perceived slights. Really, if Jaskier hadn’t known the technique from Geralt, he would have told Aiden to back away, that loving Lambert was a lost cause. Except for the hope that it wasn’t. Because if Aiden could convince Lambert he was loved then Jaskier would have a chance with Geralt too. And Cahir had hope with Eskel. That was a whole different kind of armour to break through. Rather than anger and indifference, Eskel shrouded himself in kindness, in helpful softness. As he travelled and Cahir followed, they went to safe cities where Cahir could start anew, met Eskel’s contacts who were or knew someone who was single and looking for a partner, and it just so happened Cahir fit their requirements. Eskel led them to safer areas where contracts were fewer but it was easier for Cahir to settle down, to leave Eskel.

The only good to come out of the Wolves being such stubborn idiots was that they invited their guests to Kaer Morhen for the winter. It made for an interesting little club, Jaskier, Aiden and Cahir together, lamenting how their Wolves were idiots.

“It’s all sharp armour. Nobody would be foolish enough to approach a fortress armed to the teeth,” Jaskier bemoaned.

“Except us. We’re like badgers with hedgehogs. Except with less murderous intent.” Aiden added. “Most of the time.”

Cahir nodded along. “If we can’t fire Cupid’s arrow at their hearts, we’re left to throw our own hearts at their arrows.”

“And maybe if we bleed enough, they’ll pull us in behind their walls and then we can strike.” Ever the poet, Jaskier sighed as he imagined it all. “But how much of our blood do they want?”

Their little meetings hadn’t gone unnoticed. The Wolves often gathered when the other were huddled in a room and they tried to fathom what on earth they could be talking about.

“Probably trading survival tips for the Path,” Eskel suggested. “I’ve tried to give Cahir so many outs, taken him to so many places he could have settled, introduced him to so many potential partners and allies. Yet none meet his standards.”

“Tell me about it. Jaskier’s turned down some court offers. Says he needs his inspiration and muse by his side.” Much more softly, Geralt added, “I know Roach is great but this is a bit ridiculous. Even for Jaskier.”

All through it Lambert had been quiet, mulling it all over. “Aiden’s probably teaching them how to stay safe alongside a witcher.” Which was a terrifying concept. “Fuck, they need someone more sensible to teach them!”

“Or they could be nursing broken hearts,” Vesemir gave his pups a firm stare as he looked up from the book he’d been reading.

As one, the Wolves shook their heads. “Nah, not possible. They’re learning survival tips.”

Lambert took it upon himself to crash the survival course, letting himself into the room. Three sets of eyes turned to him and he could hear the spike of heartbeats like a chorus of startled chicken.

“Broken hearts survival club?” He asked as a joke, wanting to mock Vesemir even if the old witcher wasn’t around to hear.

What he didn’t expect was for Jaskier’s face to soften and for Aiden’s heart to skip a beat. “You too? Who has ensnared your precious heart?”

Not at all what Lambert was expecting and he swallowed, eyes wide. He wanted to ask if this was serious, that the three really were there to lament broken hearts. His own heart lurched, knowing it was already bruised and barely held together. To know that Aiden held a torch for someone and didn’t trust him enough to say hurt worse than anticipated.

“Someone,” he said, shrugging. “It’s not important. He’s got his claws sunk into another heart.”

Diligently, Lambert didn’t look towards Aiden at all. He didn’t miss the shifting around though as Jaskier got up and approached him.

“Claws? Lambert-”

“It was just a stupid turn of phrase,” Lambert snapped. “Thought the poet in you would appreciate some flower language.”

He was steered towards the little huddle and sat down next to Aiden. Jaskier gently pressed a bottle in his hand and gave him an encouraging look. “Tell us more about who broke your heart.”

This was not a situation Lambert had ever intended to get into. He’d honestly thought he’d be helping Lambert teach the humans survival skills. Now, he needed help getting out of this mess without wrecking everything.

“Nobody’s broken my heart.” Three pairs of sad eyes stared at him. “It’s not big enough to break.”

“It’s plenty big enough,” Aiden cut in. “I know you too well to be fooled by that lie.”

Yet Aiden couldn’t see that Lambert’s heart was his for the reaping. He didn’t know Lambert well enough to see that all he had to do was ask and Lambert was his. Or maybe Lambert his his heart too well. It was all a little too confusing and poor Lambert felt like his head was going to explode.

“You don’t know me at all,” he spat and a pained silence blanketed the room.

Aiden’s harsh “don’t touch me!” broke the stillness as Cahir tried to put a soothing hand on his shoulder. There weren’t any tears but Aiden’s voice was still thick and tight.

“Maybe you don’t know me either. Maybe it’s time we went our separate ways. I’ll keep out of your way for the rest of winter.”

Lambert’s head was spinning. He had no idea what was going on anymore. Over the course of the years he and Aiden had said so much worse things to each other and hadn’t taken true offence. As Aiden tried to walk past him, he snagged his wrist and spun him, eyes pleading in place of the words he didn’t have. Begging for forgiveness, for Aiden to see what he couldn’t say.

“I think you’ve bled enough,” Cahir piped up out of the blue, watching the staring contest. A foot kicked him in the ankle and he cleared his throat with an apology. “Sorry Jaskier, what I mean is: and now kiss.”

That, at least, had the two witchers recoiling from their staring contest. Instead though, they were now looking at everything except each other.

“Did those claws do more damage?” Aiden asked softly, barely daring to hope. He gasped a little when Lambert nodded. He pulled at his wolf, urging him to stand. Turning to the other two, he offered a disbelieving smile. “I need to talk to Lambert. In private. Please excuse me.”

They left in a rush and Jaskier looked to Cahir. Now where were two of them left. Which was, of course, the moment Geralt stepped into the room.

“Don’t go into the corridor,” he grumbled. “Aiden and Lambert have finally pulled their heads out of their asses.”

“About time too.” There was only a hint of jealousy in Cahir’s voice. Lambert had come for Aiden. And now Geralt was there, looking at Jaskier. “Are all Wolves born with their heads up their ass? Or is one of the trials called The Great Stuffing?”

Giving them a confused look, Geralt’s brows pulled into a frown. “Have you been spurned by a witcher?” Realisation dawned on him. “Eskel?”

“Why do you think this is the Broken Hearts Club? Or rather, what’s left of it.”

Eyes turned from Cahir to Jaskier and Geralt was obviously doing mental gymnastics to figure it all out. A conclusion was reached when his jaw ticked and his pupils widened before narrowing as he fought to control his reactions.

“Come tend to Roach with me,” he offered Jaskier who bounced up and was almost out the door before remembering that his friend was still there and was about to be very much alone.

“I’m so sorry,” he said and Cahir nodded. This was fine. His friends deserved happiness. Little did he realise Jaskier wasn’t apologising for that. Instead, he threw his head back and, on the top of his lungs yelled, “Eskel!” then scurried away after Geralt.

The sound of rushing footsteps alerted Cahir to Eskel’s imminent arrival. He braced himself and put on a pleasant, if a little strained mask of being just fine.

“Did you call?” Eskel asked, hopeful as he stuck his head around the door.

“Jaskier. He and Geralt are in the stables. Lambert and Aiden hopefully in a bedroom.”

Sitting down heavily next to Cahir, Eskel huffed. “They finally got brave?”

Cahir didn’t want to think about what that really meant. Because then his heart would squeeze. The Wolves seemed to know about their affections and, it seemed, Geralt and Lambert even returned the feelings.

“Yeah. They did.” He turned to look at Eskel’s profile. This was fine. He could love from afar. Make sure Eskel didn’t travel alone, that someone had his back. A faithful friend. That was going to be enough for Cahir. He didn’t expect Eskel to turn to look at him, eyes dipping down to his lips.

“Do you think-” a tongue darted out to wet dry lips before Eskel continued, “-I could be brave too?”

They were already leaning towards each other, heads tipped to their noses wouldn’t bump painfully. Pausing just shy of Eskel’s mouth, Cahir whispered, “yes please” and they finally kissed.

[kerra-and-company]

spiral

The first three months after Zhaitan’s defeat. (Or, the story of how the person widely considered “the best at emotions” was once absolutely horrible at managing her own.)

Warnings: depression, self-harm (in a very Kerra-specific way), feeling worthless, cognitive distortions (Kerra gets an idea into her head that is just...inaccurate)

Word count: 4466

I’ve been trying to work on this fic for a while, and it’s been really hard because Kerra’s my OC whose mental health issues are closest to my own. But it’s done now, and I’m sure it’s not perfect, but I’m proud of it, and it means a lot to me. So, here you go; hopefully this speaks to someone else, too.

(and @mystery-salad because forever ago you mentioned that you’d be interested in seeing this fic concept if I ever wrote it!)

It happened in the span of a single moment.

Trahearne had finally, finally joined the party. Rel had gotten his lute from who knows where and was taking song requests. Destiny’s Edge was talking and laughing, and she even saw Caithe smile. Everywhere Kerra looked, her friends and the rest of the Pact were drinking, chatting, relaxing, or dancing.

And, for once, no one was watching her.

So she tilted her head back, letting the sun and confetti (who brought confetti?) cover her face, giggling at the unfamiliar touch of colorful paper scraps. She spun around, arms outstretched and eyes closed and, miraculously, managing not to hit anyone.

It was pure, utter joy combined with I’m done, I did what I was made for, I’m done and I can just be me—

Kill the dragon.

Kerra stumbled. That couldn’t be right. Zhaitan was dead, and her Hunt was—

Kill the dragon, her mind insisted.

The world didn’t stop. It would have been easier if it had. Instead, the celebration continued, with laughter and Rel’s music as omnipresent noise.

It took everything in her not to scream.

****

The Pact wanted to lift her up on a pedestal for what she’d done. And she didn’t deserve it, so she had to leave.

She wrote notes to each of her friends and left them near their things, going mostly unnoticed as she slipped out of the party. Thank you for everything you’ve done, she said. I am going to where I can help the most, and that’s not here right now. I’ll come back.

I love you.

****

Her first stop was Caledon.

Cern was pleased to see her and told her stories of his new recruits taking down a particularly large troll in the swamps. Tatli and Cueyatl welcomed her into the Hazupl camp, and a few sylvari were there, too, talking to the hylek young. Llew gave her updates on Astorea—the defenses were holding, though Nightmare Court attacks had increased of late.

The only place she stayed overnight, though, was the Weeping Isle. Eona hugged her, congratulated her, and asked after Rel. She gave bare-bones information, took care of some wave riders, and fell asleep in the same guest room she’d taken earlier that year.

In her dreams, she walked a bloody battlefield, utterly alone. She saw so many dead faces, along with the living who mourned their losses. With each one she spotted, a memory flashed. Minei and Cio screaming and fighting to get back into the fortress on Claw Island. Ceera calling her “Commander of death.” Elli’s expression as she tore into the Risen marksman. Tybalt imploring her to trust him. Trahearne asking the Pale Tree for forgiveness as they closed the gate to Fort Trinity. The hate in Tiachren’s eyes slowly turning to fear as he died.

And above it all, the incessant drumbeat of this is your fault, your fault, your fault. You were Commander and this wasn’t what you were meant for and so every death is on your head and yours alone because you made a mistake. You pursued the wrong Hunt, and you will look at what you’ve done.

The land and the bodies went up in smoke, and she welcomed the flames even as she burned, too.

Come morning, Eona found Kerra’s bed neatly made and the Commander herself long gone.

****

In Kessex, the bandits put a price on her head.

In Sparkfly, the krait learned to flee from her on sight.

In Brisban, the Inquest cursed her as their labs exploded.

Sometimes, those she helped asked for her name. She began introducing herself as Lin. It felt…maybe not right, but right-adjacent, and it gave her a sense of distance.

Sometimes, they asked her to stay—an asuran krewe who appreciated her particular brand of dragon expertise, a rough-edged gladium who saw a kindred spirit, and a small human boy who watched her train the Claypool militia with wide eyes, to name a few.

She never stayed more than a few days. It tore her apart each time.

She slept less and less.

****

Felix worried more about her with every passing day.

Kerra could feel it, and she wished he wouldn’t, but she didn’t have the words to calm him.

“You can leave, dearheart, if this is too much,” she said once, softly. “You can leave if…if I’m too much.”

Not too much, never, Felix insisted, bumping his head into her thigh and letting out a deep purr. But you’re hurt. I want to help.

“You can’t.” It came out too sharp, and they both winced. “It’s…I’m not scratched, or stabbed, or corrupted. I didn’t break a bone.” I wish I had. I wish this pain was visible. I wish I had scars for all of them.

Some nights, she considered giving herself those scars.

That doesn’t make you not hurt, Felix insisted.

Kerra had nothing to say except but I deserve it, and she knew Felix wouldn’t want to hear that. So, she just pulled him onto her lap and against her chest, burying her face in his fur, eyes dry.

****

Her thoughts wouldn’t stop chasing each other in circles. Her Wyld Hunt pulsed at the back of her mind constantly, like the beginning of a headache.

Kill the dragon.

WHICH dragon? she’d scream back. It never answered, no matter how many times she asked.

But she could function on two hours of sleep a night. She could fight. She could help.

That’s all that mattered.

****

She stopped at the Black Citadel for provisions. She’d intended to avoid Rytlock, but one of his subordinates spotted her at a vendor’s stall and (as politely as possible) dragged her to his office.

“Commander!” Rytlock said, happily standing up and pushing his paperwork to the side. “Thought you were back at Fort Trinity.”

“I was,” Kerra said, just a little too shortly. “I’m on my way to Hoelbrak.” Not entirely false; she was indeed heading in that general direction.

“On foot?” Confusion. “You didn’t waypoint or take an airship?”

“I wanted to take the scenic route.” A small smirk, and, again, not entirely a lie.

“Fine by me.” Rytlock grinned, his smile very full of teeth. “Don’t suppose you’d care to help me take out a Flame Legion post before you leave?”

“I’d be happy to,” Kerra said, smiling back and inclining her head before turning on her heel and walking out the door. Felix followed close behind.

“Commander!” Rytlock shouted after her. He muttered something about “I was saying we’d go together,” but Kerra was halfway down the stairs by then and barely heard him.

The outpost was empty within three hours. Kerra was gone in four.

****

She’d stopped shielding her mind somewhere along the line. She couldn’t remember exactly when.

Emotions swirled through her, positive and negative and in-between. Most of them left, but their imprints remained.

She kept fighting. She kept killing, when necessary, and the pain grew and grew and grew. Her burden. Hers. Deserved, she thought.

She racked up invisible scars by the thousands.

****

As much as she told herself the pain was necessary, it also was exhausting—which is how she got her first serious injury since leaving Orr, forcibly bringing her spiral to a halt.

She was at Victor’s Point with a man named Gareth and his three children. Said children had performed some sort of ritual to summon a bear. The ritual instead managed to summon several dozen bears, and soon the homestead was overrun.

While Felix helped Gareth take down a particularly large bear, Kerra heard a scream from the nearby shed and whipped around, running as fast as her legs would carry her across the snow.

A child she hadn’t met yet, a small one with short white-blond hair, was cowering under a workbench. They held a pen in their right hand like a dagger, jabbing it in the direction of yet another bear trying to stick its head under the table. It growled at them, showcasing its set of sharp teeth.

Not wanting to risk hitting the child, Kerra unsheathed her dagger and leaped on top of the bear. But she’d underestimated its ferocity and overestimated her remaining strength, and it threw her off, slamming her into the stones of the nearby fireplace.

Holding her head, she tried to get up, but its claws gauged deep marks across her chest, and she dropped her dagger at the sudden spasm of pain. She scrambled backwards, shielding the child with her own body as they screamed. Felix roared somewhere in the distance.

She struggled to stay conscious as the bear reared up on its hind legs, trying to figure out if she could muster up enough energy to kick it in the stomach. But she didn’t have to.

A blue shield appeared around her—guardian magic, she thought deliriously. Logan? The mace that whacked the bear in the head was decidedly not Logan’s, though, and Logan wasn’t that tall, and his skin wasn’t that dark. But whoever this was, the child was safe.

“Hey, stay awake!” a voice called out urgently as her eyes slid shut. She heard a distinct crack in it and felt the owner’s concern for her. Funny, she thought in an unappreciated moment of irony, for them to care so much about someone they’ve never met.

****

Kerra must have dreamed, then, but all she remembered was what woke her up—yet another whisper of kill the dragondeep in the back of her mind.

She sat up with a jolt, nearly whacking her head on the beams above her.

Her savior was talking in hushed tones to Gareth nearby, but whatever they were saying was immediately drowned out by Felix, who meowed loudly and started purring at the top of his lungs. He gently butted his head against her shoulder. Thank you for staying. Don’t leave.

“I’m—” she coughed, clearing her throat and trying to ignore what felt like the worst headache of her life. “I’m okay, ‘Lix, I’m okay, I’m still here.” She gently laid a hand on his flank, and he turned his head and licked it with his rough tongue, making her laugh weakly and then wince as the action sent a flare of pain through her body.

“You sure you’re okay?” her mysterious savior said, approaching her bedside. “You hit your head pretty hard.”

“I heal fast,” Kerra said, meeting their eyes. They were tall, but their face was young. “Thank you for your help.”

“No problem,” the tall child said. “I’m Braham, he/him. Nice to meet you.”

“I’m Lin. She/her is fine. It’s nice to meet you, too.” A memory slotted into place, and she gasped, frantically looking around for her weapons. “Are the children all right? How long was I unconscious?”

“Easy!” Gareth said, holding his hands up in a calming gesture as he approached. “Yes, all the children are safe, and you were only out for about an hour or so.” He coughed meaningfully, and a snow-blond head peeked out from around his legs. “Mikkel is a bit shy, but he wanted me to thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Mikkel,” Kerra said, her eyes softening as they met the child’s. “You were very brave, you know.”

The boy squeaked and hid again behind his father’s legs. Gareth just laughed. “I daresay he was! But that thanks comes from me as well, young one. We were lucky to have you with us today.”

“The thanks is appreciated, but unnecessary, Gareth,” Kerra replied, dipping her head a few inches. When she lifted it back up—slowly, struggling against the pounding in her head—she found Braham looking at her curiously. But he shook his head, seemingly dislodging whatever thought he’d had, and nodded.

“I’m glad you’re okay and that I could help, but I gotta get going,” he said, standing up.

“Where are you headed?” Kerra asked, leaning back slightly against the pillows.

“Hoelbrak,” Braham answered, frowning. “I need someone to help me defend my hometown, Craigstead—it’s been invaded by some group calling themselves the Molten Alliance. I figured asking Knut Whitebear was worth a shot.”

Kerra frowned, too, both at Braham’s words and at the implication of his tension and fear. “Who else did you ask?” And why didn’t you try Hoelbrak first?

“Tribune Brimstone. He didn’t believe me.”

“What didn’t he believe?”

Braham’s face closed, but she could feel his flare of anger; it wasn’t directed at her, though, not really. “With all due respect, sylvari, it’s not really your business—”

“I know Rytlock,” Kerra interrupted, ignoring Gareth’s shock and the way Mikkel’s eyes lit up. And though the last thing she wanted was to go back to Rytlock or any of her friends and hurt them again… “I can help; I’ve convinced him to get off his…behind…before. Let me help. What didn’t he believe? That your town was under attack?”

She could tell Braham wasn’t quite convinced that she was being honest, but he sighed and shrugged. “That, and the fact that my full name is Braham Eirsson. My mother—” He said the word with a disgust Kerra didn’t understand. “—is Eir Stegalkin.”

Kerra blinked. “Your mother is who?”

Braham crossed his arms. “You heard me.”

“No, I did, and I believe you—sorry. I just…” She trailed off, took a breath, and continued. “I know your mother, too, then. And I’m aware that I can’t move much at the moment, but if Whitebear doesn’t agree to help you, come back and find me. Either I’ll convince someone to help you, or I’ll do it myself.”

Surprise mixed with persistent disbelief and gratitude. “Okay, then. You’re an odd one, Lin.”

She laughed, dry and short, absorbing the flicker of pain that came with it. “So I’ve heard.” As he headed to the door, she added, “You better come back and at least let me know how things go, okay?”

It was Braham’s turn to laugh, though his was more sincere. He did a goofy half-bow-half-salute and said lightly, “You’ll be on my way, so sure thing, boss.”

****

Kerra wanted to leave. Gareth and his wife and his children were absolutely lovely, and she didn’t deserve any of it. But she was trapped in bed, healing. Careless.

She slept most of the time, waking up only to eat and pet Felix and thank Mikkel for bringing her water. Part of her wished she could just stay asleep, and part of her was absolutely desperate to move, to get out, to go anywhere but here where she was a burden and could do nothing. Always, constantly, back and forth.

I need to move.

You can’t.

I need to help.

You can’t do that, either.

I need to be worth something.

But you’re not.

I need you to shut up.

But I won’t.

I…I need my friends. And I need Trahearne and Caithe.

But you left them. They’re probably all angry with you.

You don’t know that.

And even if they’re not, you don’t deserve them.

…

Am I wrong?

****

On her fourth day at Victor’s Point, Kerra received a visitor.

Raised voices outside woke her. She rolled over to face the door, bringing her knees closer to her chest under the blankets.

“—asked you to state your business, sylvari.” Gareth’s voice. He was on edge and slightly angry.

“And I told you, I’m looking for Kerra. Is she here or not?”

Kerra’s eyes flew open in shock and recognition.

“There is no one by that name staying here,” Gareth replied. “I strongly suggest you try the next homestead.” A feeling of preparedness, as if his hand was on the hilt of his weapon.

Before she could think it through, Kerra called out, “Nisha?”

A brief scuffle and a shout, and the door banged open. Nisha’s clothes looked wrinkled, though still passably clean, and xe stood as tall as ever. And xe was scared and upset and relieved and so many other things that Kerra didn’t have the brainspace to work through.

Felix, however, didn’t have that problem. He leapt forward, and a very startled Nisha caught him in xyr arms. Xe stumbled backward into Gareth, who burst out laughing, animosity gone.

“Well, all right then! Lin, I see you know this person. Is it fine if I leave you two…” He glanced at a very loudly purring Felix, eyes twinkling. “Or you three to catch up?”

Nisha’s gaze caught hers and locked in, like the sight on one of xyr rifles.

Say yes.

Say no.

Say yes.

Say no. Say NO.

“Yes,” Kerra choked out, quiet but audible.

“Wonderful! I’ll be outside if you need me.” The door softly clicked shut behind him.

Silence for a few beats. Three, two, one.

Kerra took a deep breath and straightened, sitting up fully. “Hey,” she said tentatively.

Nisha gently set Felix down, a fierce edge in xyr eyes. Felix curled up next to the bed, eyes darting between the two.

“Hey?” Nisha repeated incredulously. “Hey?!”

Kerra flinched, and Nisha snapped xyr mouth shut with an audible click. When xe spoke next, xyr tone was flat. “Where have you been, exactly?”

“Helping people,” was all Kerra could say.

Nisha exhaled, frustration seeping off xem in waves. “My apologies. I should have phrased that better. Why did you leave Fort Trinity?”

“To help people,” Kerra repeated, helplessly.

“Why couldn’t you help people there?! I-I—” Nisha’s face twisted, though Kerra could see xem struggling to hide it. “You left us! And you didn’t say where you were going, not even to Trahearne or Caithe or my brother.” Xyr hand clenched into a fist, gripping and bunching up the fabric of xyr pants.

She had let them down. They were mad—at least Nisha was, and if xe was, probably everyone else was, too. Tears pricked at her eyes, and she started, “I’m s—”

“Do you have ANY idea how SCARED we were?!” Nisha shouted.

Kerra’s world screeched to a halt.

Wait. What?

“We could have lost you, and we would have had no way of knowing! You could have died, or disappeared, and none of us would have been able to do anything to stop it! We were terrified for you! And not because you’re not capable,” xe added hastily, brushing away tears on xyr own cheeks, and she’d made Nisha cry, she’d done that to xem, she’d hurt xem— “You are perhaps the best fighter I’ve ever met. That doesn’t mean you can’t die.”

Something cracked in Kerra’s heart.

“Why do you—what about all the people who died because of me?” she shouted back, her voice breaking. She threw herself out of bed and onto her feet, the blankets falling in a disorganized tangle behind her. “What about them?”

“What—we were fighting an Elder Dragon! People were going to die!” Both of Nisha’s fists were clenched now. “And I hate that, but it’s the truth! If you’re saying that you think we could have made it all the way to Zhaitan with no casualties—”

“No, no, I’m not, I—all their deaths are my fault!” Kerra’s tone made Felix’s ears flatten, and she ignored Nisha’s rush of utter shock. “I don’t understand why you’d want to find me!”

“Why in Tyria would they all be your fault?” Xyr brow furrowed, and xe took one step towards her. “I disagree with the basic principle, but even if the deaths were entirely on the Pact leadership, shouldn’t they also be Trahearne’s—”

“NO!”

“Why not?!”

“BECAUSE I WAS NEVER SUPPOSED TO BE THE COMMANDER!”

The room went dead silent. Kerra abruptly realized she was breathing hard and sat down on the edge of her bed.

“I was given a Wyld Hunt to fight and kill a dragon, Nisha,” she said, staring down at her hands. “The Pale Mother and Caithe both told me that the dragon was Zhaitan, but it clearly wasn’t, because Zhaitan is dead, and my Wyld Hunt is very much still there. Which makes this the wrong path for me, and therefore every action I’ve taken that’s led to where we are, with so many dead, is my fault. I should have figured out I was targeting the wrong dragon, I should have done better, I should have…” She trailed off, overwhelmed.

Silence again. When Kerra looked up, she met Nisha’s eyes, staring directly into hers. Sadness. Anger. Frustration.

Xe cleared xyr throat twice before speaking. “You write your own future, Ker. You’re not beholden to that one.”

“But Mother told me—”

“Mothers can be WRONG!” The fabric of Nisha’s coat tore with a soft ripping sound. But just like with Braham, the anger wasn’t directed at Kerra.

“I was given this Hunt by the Dream!”

“Shoots and thorns!” Nisha yelled, xyr voice cracking. “Why are you so certain you chose wrong, that you made some sort of mistake? You can still complete your Hunt! You can go after all the dragons! And you know why you have that option?” Desperation. Determination. “Because of everything you’ve done, because you’re the Commander, whether or not your Mother and the Dream originally thought you should be! You took down Zhaitan! You proved that Elder Dragons can be defeated, and now you don’t have to fight them alone!”

Xe took a deep breath. “Yes, people died, and it’s horrible.” New tears pooled in xyr eyes. “I…I still miss Sieran. But their deaths are not all your fault, and you saved so many lives, too, and…and I brought these.”

Xe shrugged off xyr pack and fiddled around inside it, pulling out a stack of papers and dropping them on Kerra’s lap. She just blinked.

Nisha sighed, more out of frustration with xemself than with Kerra. “Can you just look at them, please?”

Kerra spread out the papers, making sure to catch a few stray sheets before they fell to the floor.

They were notes, every single one of them written in a different hand. In a quick scan, Kerra saw Caithe’s graceful but clear cursive, Elli’s “i's” dotted with little hearts, and Minei’s deliberately blocky print. She looked back up at Nisha.

“What…what are these?”

“It was Rel’s idea,” xe said, now looking anywhere but Kerra. She could feel xem trying to rein in xyr emotions, though it was a bit late for that. “You gave us all some, so he thought that, if I could find you, I should give you some from all of us.”

Words upon words upon words. Her eyes were drawn to them as if by a magnet.

From Demmi: Thanks for believing in me.

From Cio: You saw past the fire, and you’re one of the few.

From Trahearne: You are the reason I didn’t give up, little sister.

From Shashoo: Quaggan believes in you, Commander!

From Riel: You do good work, agent. Keep it up.

From Elli: Keep fighting, Kerry. You’re damn good at it.

From Minei: They’re not saying why we’re writing these, but you better come back so I can thank you in person.

From Caithe: You showed me new purpose, Valiant. Thank you.

From Rel: You’re my best friend, Ker, and I love you. Stay safe.

And there were more, from soldiers she’d talked to once or sparred with or comforted, and some from people she’d never met. They said thank you and you led us to victory and you saved me and you were a friend when I needed one and many, many variations.

Nisha coughed, and when xe spoke, xyr voice was thick. “I didn’t write one. I’m not a writer. But thank you, Kerra. You’re the third friend I’ve ever made, and I’m so glad I met you.”

“Can I hug you?” Kerra blurted, nearly cutting xem off. She didn’t expect xem to say yes, but she desperately hoped—and then the notes were being carefully placed on the desk, and Nisha was next to her on the bed with xyr arms around her, and Felix was purring loudly from his spot on the floor as he told her I love you, too.

Kerra hugged xem back tightly, hiding her face in xyr shoulder, and they stayed that way until both their shirts were soaked with tears.

****

An indeterminable amount of time later, Kerra pulled away, wiping her face with her sleeve. “I can’t do this on my own, you know,” she said, the corner of her mouth pulling upwards. I can’t go back alone. I won’t feel better if I’m alone. I need help, and I need my friends, and maybe that’s okay for me, too, just like it’s okay for everyone else. She met Nisha’s eyes. “Will you stay with me?”

“I just found you,” Nisha said, quiet but firm. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Kerra smiled in earnest, then. “Good. Because you can’t do this alone, either.”

“I beg your pardon?” Nisha said, eyebrows raising. Surprise. Indignance. Acceptance.

“Neither of us are okay,” Kerra said, thinking of Nisha shouting about mothers (and Nisha shouting at all, when xe always stayed so composed). “And we have other people—other friends, our siblings—but…” She felt her glow flare, warming her face. “I’ll help you, when you need it, and you’ll help me when I need it. That’s the deal.”

“I wasn’t aware we were making a deal.” Amusement. Warmth.

Kerra dipped her head slightly, never breaking eye contact. “We are.” Her smile grew. “You know,” she said cheekily, “you really shouldn’t question your Commander—”

“You are aware that I’m not technically part of the Pact, right?” Nisha interrupted.

It was barely even a joke, but it shattered whatever tension remained. Kerra burst into slightly broken (but still genuine) laughter, the calm after the storm. She felt Nisha’s happiness and saw xyr grin, and it pushed back the flood farther.

It was just enough. For the first time in weeks, she pulled up her shields, shutting the world’s emotions out. It was a relief and a letting go, and she almost started crying again, but Nisha’s presence held her together.

She was far from okay—the drumbeat of it’s all your fault and the Hunt’s repetition of kill the dragon were still very much there in her head. But people cared about her. She had proof of that, though she still didn’t understand it. She was important to them, so she had to keep herself safe.

Maybe someday she’d be able to do that just for herself.

For now, she’d take the help, and she’d start to heal. And when Braham came back, she’d leave, with Nisha.

But it was all right to stay here, just for now. She was safe, and she was loved.

And she felt like she was home.

[onebizarrekai]

Meme Waker: That Final Thing

okay aight here we go here’s the big idea compilation you’ve all been waiting for or something like that

since I’ve finally accepted meme waker’s inevitable fate, I’ll share what I’ve had laying around about it. prepare yourself for a wild ride.

first of all, what existed of the planned character key:

Nightmare = Link Dream = Aryll Cross = Tetra Ink = The Entire Pirate Crew Granny Gertrude = Grandma Horror = Quill Killer = Medli Color = Komali Dust = Makar XGaster = Tingle (yes, you read that right) Fresh = Fado (?) Geno = Laruto Blueberry = Niko Error = Ganondorf Giant Flying Chicken = Helmaroc King Core Frisk = The King XChara = Zelda

So XChara was going to fill the role of Zelda–basically, what was going to happen was that when Cross and Nightmare reached sunken Hyrule, which was replaced by the Omega Timeline, they encountered Core Frisk and with their magical Core Frisk powers that apparently exist, separated XChara from Cross’s body. Because Error was hunting him down for whatever villainous reasons (I dunno, maybe he wanted to find Overwrite or something), XChara was going to spend the near remainder of the comic hiding in the Omega Timeline from Error. It was a pretty neat reference to the fact that Error doesn’t know where the OT is.

Unsurprisingly, considering when I was working on this, Nightmare and Cross may have eventually started dating. They were going to kiss during a fight that involved them accidentally rolling down a hill and then likely spend the remainder of the comic referring to each other as boyfriends, with no further indication of romance between them. I never really mentally decided whether I was actually going to incorporate this or not.

In moments where someone needed to present a musical instrument, Cross was going to play a keytar.

There is a very high chance that the entire comic was going to end up being an elaborate prank set up by Ink and Error.

After being rescued from the Forsaken Fortress, Dream was going to get crossbows and… I dunno, maybe be useful with them sometimes. One consideration was that he was going to complain about being stuck in a glorified retirement home and request joining the party.

Nightmare was going to have a fake ID with the name “Nathaniel Meyer” on it.

When Nightmare eventually pulled up the Gaster Sword, he was basically going to do a magical girl transformation and get a new outfit. I was considering holding a contest where people would submit new designs for Nightmare before I realized that I may have wanted to do it myself. Meanwhile, Cross’s design change at the same time was going to pertain to the fact that he had such a hard time with his uniform that he just wanted to start wearing normal clothes.

When XChara was separated from Cross, it would indicate that Cross can’t use the hack knife anymore, so I had to think of a new weapon for him. I considered giving him arm mounts with knives in them for no reason other than being extra, but I was probably just going to end up going with a regular sword.

Nightmare and Cross were going to be mistaken for missionaries at some point due to Nightmare introducing Cross as his ‘companion’.

Nightmare’s fake ID is actually a driver’s license. Cross questions how he could get one when he’s only fifteen, and Nightmare responds with “what can I say? I live in the country.”

The Giant Flying Chicken was going to evolve into the Cyborg Giant Flying Chicken before Nightmare and Cross fought it. It was already a robot, but someone decided it would be fun to make it look more robotic for some reason. Maybe too many people tried to eat it.

Because Blueberry was going to replace Niko, that meant there was going to be a form of challenge that he would present to Nightmare and/or Cross. They were probably just going to play Dance Dance Revolution.

The dress that Granny Gertrude gave Nightmare was actually going to be infused with magical powers. Either Nightmare could only access the power of the Triforce when he’s wearing the dress, or it was going to be a piece of equipment that turned his sword into a fire sword.

Nightmare was going to come back to the Village of Old People to see that his grandmother had conquered it with capitalism.

Dragon Roost Cavern was going to be replaced with a Pokemon gym.

When Nightmare supposedly kicked Error’s ass at the end of the story, he was going to say something along the lines of “Because fuck you!” and it would be the first and only f-bomb in the whole comic. Nightmare would proceed to say that it was the first time he’d ever said fuck and that he felt dirty.

The Triforce of Courage was just going to be called the Triforce of Porridge for exactly zero reason.

Some incarnation of Buffmare was going to exist in the comic, but only in a sequence taking place in Nightmare’s imagination.

When Cross realized his backpack was missing, it was because I realized his backpack was missing. I forgot to draw it. I decided that the backpack actually fused with him to create a Zelda-style magic pocket.

Nightmare was going to try to control a seagull with the command melody, but he was accidentally going to start controlling Cross instead and make him run into a tree.

The Tree Spirit was going to hold official interviews for placeholder guardians in Dream and Nightmare’s absence. These placeholder guardians were going to be Neil, the overenthusiastic French furry, and Ccino, the local emo kid who is absolutely done with everyone’s bullshit, and exclusively because they were the only ones who applied for the job. Neil was going to have an ulterior motive of becoming Gaston’s successor.

Neil and Ccino were eventually going to ‘get together’, if you can even call it that, and for no other reason than shitpost reasons.

Nightmare may have had a showdown with the Giant Flying Chicken while riding the Great Charizard from Dragon Roost.

Another possible concept for whole story was that it was a bad self insert fic written by a younger version of Nightmare, but it’s really unlikely that I would’ve gone through with that.

Nightmare and Cross may have needed to go on a fetch quest to find Ink’s brush in the ocean because they accidentally lost it, but honestly that would’ve served nothing for the progression of the story. Because XGaster put a tracker on Ink’s brush, they were going to have to enlist his help.

and that about wraps up my notes, now let me throw what I had sitting around of a script draft–reading this was a trip because I forgot that literally 60% of it existed:

(inside the mountain)

Cross: holy shoe, EVERYONE has wings? how is this a thing??

Cross: I’m frickin jealous

Chief: Oh. You must be. Those guys.

Horror: yeah man, I enlisted their help to capture the Chicken Terror, but then they were all like yo, it’s a robot!


Chief: horror robot or not I told you that we weren’t going to capture the chicken terror for food because we’re not cannibals we don’t eat birds

Horror: but

Horror: we’re hardly even birds!

Chief: you know your job Horror. now get back to work. your actual work.

Horror: But… being the mailman sucks!


Chief: Do I need to confiscate your axe again?


Horror: OKAY FINE. I’M GOING. (flies away in a huff)

Chief: AND DO YOUR GODFORSAKEN LAUNDRY!

Chief: I apologize for that… so, how can I help you two today?


Nightmare: You guys have like, some pearl thing or something? We need to like, collect three of them in order to… save the multiverse… or something like that.

(Camera dramatically darkens.)

Chief: It’s just as the prophecy foretold…

Nightmare: oh god what

Chief: You see, young whippersnappers… legend tells of a great hero that would rise up and save a bunch of people in times of desperation that they don’t even realize are desperate. the great hero would travel far and wide in search of the Pearls of Shiny to finally retrieve a great weapon that he would use to strike down the evil that few knew existed. also the hero would have a sidekick wearing stupid clothes.

Cross: EXCUSE ME

Chief: THAT’S JUST WHAT THE PROPHECY SAID

Nightmare: okay, y’know, I’m just gonna roll with it. where can I get the pearl?

Chief: Well… that’s where the hard part comes in. You see, the pearl belongs to my son… but he’s been acting like an edgy teenager lately.

Nightmare: Great…

Cross: Is there a reason he’s being edgy? Maybe there’s something we can do to appease his hormones.

Cross: Free food works like a charm for me.

Chief: No, it’s more complicated than that. When one of our people becomes of age, they climb to the top of Charizard Island to receive a scale from the Great Charizard that will allow them to grow wings.

Nightmare: the… great charizard.

Chief: But lately, the Great Charizard has been throwing inexplicable temper tantrums. No one can get close to him anymore. And with my son being of age, he’s decently pissed off about this.

Chief: We’re thinking that the Great Charizard is displeased about something, and it is also causing our shortage of food.

Nightmare: Wait, you worship something named after a Pokemon?


Chief: Anyway, perhaps you two will be able to talk some sense into my son. Maybe he just wants to talk to someone his age that isn’t Horror or Killer.

Nightmare: What kind of names are those?


Chief: There’s a letter that I wanted my son to read, and I’ve given it to Killer to hold onto. You can go get it from him upstairs in the first room near the stairs, just tell him I sent you. He’s the little guy in the short shorts, you’ll probably recognize him when you see him.

Nightmare: Can’t you just call him here?


Chief: No, it is of upmost importance that you experience a basic fetch quest in order to become a great hero, because those fetch quests will become needlessly complicated before you even realize it.

Nightmare: ?????

Nightmare: I can’t even tell if you’re joking or not–

Cross: dude let’s just go get the letter

(scene transition)

(Killer dramatically turns around and it zooms in and says his name SSB style)

Nightmare: Wait, why do you get a dramatic introduction?


Killer: Dayum. New faces.

Nightmare: Why is everyone ignoring my questions??

Killer: (needlessly sensual voice) So, what brings you here? (walking closer)


Nightmare: (backs into wall) NO BUENO

Cross: You have a letter or something?


Killer: Oh. Yeah. Chief gave it to me for some reason. Yo, catch.

(He chucks it like a ninja star. Cross catches it between his hands in front of his face.)


Killer: Ey! You actually caught it!


Cross: I’m a trained ninja.

Killer: So like, who are you guys?

Cross: I’m Cross. He’s Larry.

Nightmare: NIGHTMARE. MY NAME IS NIGHTMARE.

Killer: Aw man, I know the feel of having a really lame name and wanting one that’s cooler.

Nightmare: No. Like. My name is actually Nightmare. My senile grandma called me Larry earlier today and this loser picked up on it.

Killer: There’s no need to lie. I understand.

Nightmare: I’M NOT LYING!

Killer: anyway make sure you get that letter to Color there’s something I have to do–

(Killer zips out the door behind them.)


Cross: what even the frick?


Nightmare: that guy freaks me the frick out.

Nightmare: literally. I felt like he was coming onto me.

Cross: you’re imagining things.

(SCENE TRANSITION)
 Cross: all right Nightmare I literally do not trust your ability to communicate with another person in a way that will make them feel inclined to give us something so just let me handle this okay

Cross: okay better yet wait outside the room

(Nightmare makes a less than amused face.)


Cross: it’s for the greater good

(Cross walks into the room.)

Cross: hi my name is Cross and

Color: LEAVE

(Cross immediately exits the room.)

Cross: this is a lost causeNightmare: what

Cross: go make him bleed with your words

Nightmare: dude isn’t this the part where we give him the frickin letter

Cross: (pauses) :o

Cross: OH RIGHT

(Cross takes the letter and goes back into the room, leaving the door open)

Cross: oh yeah this letter is for you it’s from your dad or something

Color: Oh, wow. Can’t even be bothered to talk to me in person.

Color: Give me that thing.

(Color stares at the letter. It’s actually a letter from Killer filled with really bad pickup lines and other really creepy compliments.)

Color: What the hell, you said this was from my dad!

Cross: We thought it was–??

(Killer teleports in behind them, scaring the shit out of Nightmare)


Killer: Suuuup~

Color: Killer I swear to god.

Killer: Here’s the actual letter, though you might not be happy with it.

(He flings it at Color and it lands in front of him. He reads it over, rolls his eyes and throws it in the trash.)

Cross: So uh… I don’t know what the letter says but apparently we’re prophesied heroes collecting a bunch of pearls to save the multiverse and the pearl you have is–


Color: Can everyone just get out of my room already?

(everyone just leaves)

Nightmare: What even was the point of that stupid fetch quest?

Killer: Oh yeah, can you guys help me with something? Just a smalllll favor. And I can’t ask anyone else because I’m not supposed to do it.

Killer: I need some strong, reliable people…

Nightmare: Don’t touch me.

Killer: It’s just a small favor! And I mean actually small, it’ll take like two minutes.

Nightmare: I have doubts about this.

Killer: Great! Meet me out back by the spring.

Nightmare: Wait which side is the back–

(Killer is gone)

Nightmare: Cross which side is the back.

Cross: I don’t know??

(after spending twenty minutes going through the various exits trying to figure out how to get there)

Killer: What the hell took you so long.

Nightmare: Directions would’ve been helpful. There wasn’t even a freaking map anywhere in there!

Killer: The hollow is like the size of a middle class house! How difficult could it be to find out where to go?!

Nightmare: IT’S A DOME THERE IS NO BACK

Cross: OKAY, what matters is that we’re here, what the heck do we do now.

Killer: Okay, okay. (steps backwards) Look, if you look around here, it’s all a dried up spring. The Great Charizard was throwing a tantrum, a boulder fell down and it coincidentally plugged up the spring for the third time this week, which is literally our main source of fresh water. I’m honestly getting sick of this so I’m going to climb the mountain and see what’s going on because everyone else is too scared to do it.

Nightmare: God. You’re not gonna make us go with you, are you?


Killer: Oh, no way. I just need you to throw me up that cliff over there so I can get into the cavern that leads up the mountain.

Nightmare: Can’t you fly?

Killer: Not thirty feet straight up. Do these noodle arms look like they can manage that?


Nightmare: Whatever. But quick question. How the hell does one throw a person.

Killer: I weigh like fifty pounds. It shouldn’t be that hard. Also, if you’ve noticed, the wind is rapidly changing directions, so you’ll probably have the best effect throwing me when the wind is blowing that way.

Nightmare: Mhmm. Sure. Let’s just get this over with.

(Nightmare crouches down and Killer fuckin walks onto his shoulders)

Nightmare: Hey! Watch it!

(some way or another he throws Killer and Killer barely makes it to the cliff, face planting into the ground)

Nightmare: Well I guess that worked.

Killer: THAT WAS TERRIBLE!

Nightmare: YOU’RE WELCOME! COULD’VE JUST USED A DAMN LADDER!

Killer: NOBODY OWNS A LADDER HERE BECAUSE EVERYONE CAN FLY!

Nightmare: Then how the frick do people get up this cliff?!

Killer: THERE’S NORMALLY A BRIDGE BUT IT BROKE AND PROBLEMS LIKE THESE ARE PRECISELY WHY I’M CLIMBING THE MOUNTAIN TO BEGIN WITH! ALSO I’M LEAVING BYE. (turns and leaves)

(cricket cricket)

Cross: Nightmare we should probably follow him.

Nightmare: No.

Cross: What else do we have to do. We solve their problem, Color can get his wings and then he stops being emo and gives us the pearl out of the goodness of his heart.

Nightmare: I’m not risking my life for this! If that guy is willing to do it himself I’m going to let him do it!

Cross: Dude, look at that guy. He looks about at capable fixing whatever the problem is as Ink is at providing emotional support. If this happens to be anything like a video game, we’re the only ones capable of solving anything. Besides, what else are we supposed to do? Hang around and wait for something to happen?

Nightmare: All right, fine. But how are we supposed to do something? It’s not like we can climb up a thirty foot cliff.

Cross: No, but we can swim, right?Nightmare: What?

(Cross draws a line around the rock covering the spring. It dematerializes into red squares and water starts to spew out of the spring. They both run back towards the side and climb up the cliff they came from)

Nightmare: Dude, what the hell was that?

Cross: I can draw lines around things with my sword and they do that and go away.

Nightmare: … do they go somewhere?


Cross: I dunno.

(Meanwhile in Xtale, a boulder slams into the floor and almost crushes Fresh because of course he’s there)

(The spring fills up)


Nightmare: You know I’m starting to have second thoughts about this swimming thing seeing as how I’ve never actually–(Cross kicks him into the water)


(LATER)


Nightmare: YOU ASSHOLE I ALMOST DROWNED

Cross: You’re exaggerating.

Random Dude: STOP RIGHT THERE!


Nightmare: who.

Random Dude: YOU AREN’T GOIN ONE STEP PAST THIS POINT! YOU’RE LIGHT YEARS FROM FACING BROCK!

(nightmare squints)

(comic suddenly goes into a battle sequence)

Nightmare: whoa whoa what the hell is happening

Cross: oh my god it’s pokemon NIGHTMARE IT’S POKEMON

Nightmare: I DON’T HAVE ANY POKEMON CROSS THREATEN HIM

(Random Dude sent out MEWTWO)

Cross: DEAR GOD

Cross: LISTEN THERE’S A HUGE MISUNDERSTANDING WE’RE NOT TRAINERS WE DON’T HAVE POKEMON

Random Dude: tHEN WHY ARE YOU IN A POKEMON GYM HUH

Cross: Uh… touring?

Random Dude: OH

Random Dude: I SEE

(The Random Dude returns his Mewtwo.)

Random Dude: THERE HAS BEEN AN UNFORTUNATE MISUNDERSTANDING

Cross: Say uh, you didn’t happen to see a scrawny dude with wings pass through here, did you?

Random Dude: Oh yeah, he went into the next room and took the elevator to the top.

(silence)


Nightmare: Why are there always elevators.

(two seconds later, they reach the elevator and there’s a dude standing in front of it)


Nightmare: um excuse me we need to use the elevator

Dude: oh man I can’t find my glasses anywhere what do I do

Nightmare: excuse me I said move

Dude: oh man I can’t find my glasses anywhere what do I do

Nightmare: HELLO

Dude: oh man I can’t find my glasses anywhere what do I do

Nightmare: MOVE ASSHOLE

Cross: I think it’s a preprogrammed NPC.

Nightmare: UAGGGGHHHHH

(Nightmare throws himself into the person, but he slams into the STEEL WALL OF NPC)

Nightmare: CROSS TELEPORT HIM AWAY

Cross: wait are you serious what if that freakin kills him I don’t know where these things go

Nightmare: YOU SAID IT YOURSELF HE’S AN NPC

(Cross shrugs. He draws a line around the NPC and the NPC disappears)

(one elevator ride later)

Nightmare: (chokes) oh god

Nightmare: the altitude

Cross: nightmare this island is still lower than ink’s house.

Nightmare: PSYCHOLOGICAL ALTITUDE

(fwip)

Cross: Oh look, it’s that guy from earlier.

Nightmare: Got captured somehow. Why am I not surprised?

Killer: YOU KNOW WHAT SCREW YOU GUYS

(A really buff guy abruptly slams into the ground)

Buff Guy: FEAR MY WRATH, FOR I AM BROCK! LEADER OF ALL THINGS ROCK HARD

Nightmare: Look man, we really don’t have time for this, just let the shota hoe go, we’re just checking up on the huge-ass Charizard up there.

Killer: excuse me

Brock: I AM THE LOYAL GUARDIAN OF THE GREAT CHARIZARD! You can only pass if you defeat me!


Cross: what the hell is even happening anymore

(Loud gym battle music as the gate at the entrance of the clearing slams shut)

Nightmare: LOOK WE’VE BEEN OVER THIS WE DON’T HAVE ANY POKEMON

(Brock war cries as he sends out a very anime geodude)

Nightmare: can someone please tell me I’m hallucinating all of this

Brock: WELL, IF YOU DON’T HAVE POKEMON, YOU’LL HAVE TO USE A RENTAL

Cross: What? But rental pokemon always suck.

Brock: YOU MUST PROVE YOUR WORTH SOMEHOW! AND BECAUSE YOU’RE SMALL CHILDREN YOU OBVIOUSLY CAN’T PROVE IT THROUGH SUMO WRESTLING.

Nightmare: I’m fifteen!

Cross: Nightmare I think you’re missing the point.

Killer: Good god, just let them through and let me out of here, they’re the heroes of prophecy.

Brock: PROPHECY

Brock: GOODNESS ME I APOLOGIZE FOR THAT

(Brock returns his geodude)

Brock: YOU SHOULD HAVE SAID SOMETHING

Nightmare: That would have worked?

Brock: BUT! IF YOU WANT TO FREE THIS TINY FELLOW HERE, YOU MUST COMPLETE A DIFFERENT CHALLENGE! FOR YOU SEE, HE TRIED TO PASS THROUGH HERE WITHOUT WRITTEN PERMISSION!


(Killer rolls his eyes. Nightmare squints, literally pulling a notebook out of his shirt. He writes something in it, walking up to Brock and holding it up. It says “Let the guy out of jail you dick”)

Brock: AHA

Brock: WELL

Brock: I CAN’T ARGUE WITH THAT

(He stomps his foot on the ground and the bars in front of Killer go up)

Brock: DON’T BE CAUSING TROUBLE NOW KIDS


(He ascends back into the sky)


Cross: I’m not even going to ask. That entire conversation felt like a drug trip.

(Killer dramatically throws himself onto Nightmare)


Killer: I knew you would come around, my knight in–

Nightmare: Why did I assume that you had become any less creepy in the last ten minutes. Why did I even do that?


Killer: Because your heart told you to.

Nightmare: Dear god stop touching me or I will literally pick you up and slam you into the floor.

Killer: Feisty. Anyway, I figured out why the Great Charizard is freaking out all the time. His tail is hanging down into the room below him and something is chewing on it like all the time.

Cross: What? Then why doesn’t it just, I dunno, pull its freaking tail out of the room like a reasonable creature? Or maybe take care of the problem on its own?

Killer: The Great Charizard is like a five year-old. It’s self aware, but it expects all of its problems to be solved by everyone else and throws tantrums when that doesn’t happen.

Nightmare: Well that’s stupid. Why does everyone act like it’s some holy being then?

Killer: Because it’s a massive, terrifying dragon that can breathe fire?

ok unfortunately this is where the script ends but I hope you enjoyed that

oh yeah, and some extremely old art that I found:

as well as a brief consideration to make the characters human before deciding that I just didn’t want to work on the comic anymore.

basically you will notice that most of this doesn’t have a solid outline, and you’d be right: I never actually planned it that meticulously. I mostly just winged it and threw stuff in over the course of time and never even really planned anything close to a definitive ending beyond “maybe it was a prank”. sorry if this is like… anticlimactic, but it’s all I could find!

[helisol]

:)

again not a finished fic but very extensive notes, this one’s a chonker, 4k words

tl;dr: take it a ds9 but make it into high fantasy wizards. garashir, kiradax and quodo. we’ve got it all here folks.

SO BASICALLY 

I read a book about a young witch apprentice in a world where every magician has a ~special name~ based on an object/plant/animal they’re spiritually connected to.

then I watched ds9 and got introduced to the concept of cardassians being lizards.

the result- wizard lizard.

So Garak “The Lizard” is a mage that got exiled from his home country and ended up taking a pretty neat job in a rural area of a larger empire where being a wizard is Cool and Widely Accepted. 

his duties include keeping the villages around his tower safe, looking for young mages to turn into apprentices, and sometimes making clothes because he’s Still A Tailor.

however, because of his chronic “i no wanna work” disease, this lizard has not actually been looking around the villages near him for magically gifted children. shame on him. 

because through his negligence Julian Bashir, young village doctor, grew up without even knowing that he can do ~magic~

but he soon finds out when his town gets attacked by a Big Evil Magic Monster. The Lizard is taking his sweet time to come to their rescue and Julian can’t just sit by and watch innocent people get mauled by a Chimera or Giant Mantis.

So Julian does the heroic thing and jumps inbetween a wounded child and the monster in the exact second Garak shows up.

And he gets to watch as Julian unleashes some Magic for the first time.

Then Garak Kind Of Abducts Julian So He Can Teach Him Magic

Garak is contractually obligated and allowed to take on anyone who is capable of magic as an apprentice, and he finds Julian’s magic interesting enough to invoke that contract now. Not Julian himself though. Only his magic. for now.

Julian- for like, the first week- is NOT OKAY with being teleported into a tower fortress by a wizard he finds intimidating and scary, and he loudly protests when Garak actually starts to teach him magic spells.

However, this is Julian, and he *is* intrigued by the thought of being able to use magic For Doing Good.

So one night he admits defeat and slinks up to the tower and goes “Okay. Compromise. Teach me healing magic.”

To which Garak is like 👀 “Okay.”

They start having regular magic lessons mostly focused on healing, which Julian is just naturally good at. So they move on to other things. Which Julian is Not naturally good at.

And he becomes very frustrated.

Garak tries to assuage him and says that he doesn’t have to be accomplished in every single field and discipline- which is logically true- but Julian is having none of it since Garak is accomplished in every field.

In a fit of anger Julian unleashes emotional magic again and breaks some of Garak’s things. Books, vials, a desk, nothing super major. But Julian is still surprised and shocked at himself for causing trouble like this and he Runs Away. Straight up exits stage left.

And Garak, who just got flung against the wall by his little apprentice, just rushes to the window and looks as Julian runs away and he is. Disappointed.

Next we have Julian returning home and everyone is like "Doctor!!! You were gone for half a year???" And Julian is like "I thought I was only gone for a month at most-"

Yeah the joke is time flies when you’re having fun because Julian *did* have fun living with Garak. He doesn’t regret leaving though, after all Garak was probably furious after he wrecked his study he wasn’t.

So Julian says to himself "Hmph. I'll just stay home for a week. Garak will hardly notice I'm gone. And then I can make it up to him."

But Then He Stays For A Whole Month

He has to instruct a new doctor to take over the nearby villages, do some paperwork, help some sick people, practice some magic on his own- and at the end of the month He Doesn’t Want To Stay Any Longer.

He’s always been different from the other village people, and now he finally got a taste of what it’s like to have someone help you to achieve your potential and widen your horizon and he *doesn’t* want to give that up for a boring but busy country life.

So back to the tower it is. Julian arrives, the place is kind of messy, and when he finds Garak he is in his study. on the floor. a little drunk, definitely sad, and Very Surprised To See Him.

Here we get a scene where Garak tipsily tells Julian how much he’s grown to appreciate him, not just for his magic talent, but as a person- and that he’s missed him.

But The Next Morning Garak Does Not Remember

And he's just like "Oh Julian. Youre back. I'd almost forgotten about you."

For a second Julian wants to punch a wall because *Yesterday You Told Me You Missed Me*, but then he just Smiles. settles for what they have right now. and asks Garak to continue teaching him magic.

so they go on. and have. so many gay moments.

And then Garak gets told to attend some kind of magic council meeting/banquet.

Julian says something along the lines of "Oh well, guess I'll stay home. You know, protect the fort. Practice magic." but he's a little sad about it.

But garak just goes "Hmm No. I'm taking you with me"

"What-" "I'm introducing you as my apprentice to the magic council." "W h a t-" "Oh also you need pretty clothes for this so I'm gonna make you some. Since you’re a commoner with no actual taste." "W H A T-"

So garak makes a really nice suit for Julian and for himself they match and they go to the Cool Wizard Banquet.

At which Julian meets a lot of wizards and witches and he's like "Wow this is so exciting!" but he also realises he is a Total Country Bumpkin And Noob compared to these people and their apprentices.

He also hears that Apparently the Local Wizard of every region is supposed to do a 5-yearly sweep of the surrounding towns to check for kids that have magic potential and then send them to Magic School/take them in as their apprentice directly.

And Garak. Did not do that.

He was Lazy and Angery. Exile will do that to you.

Julian isn’t too happy when he learns about this and he walks out of the banquet hall into the garden- to where Garak follows him.

"So just because you were all bitchy about having to follow this country's rules about magic you let me grow up not knowing my full potential? How many of my childhood friends might be able to do magic if they tried?"

“I was in a really bad place back then."

"SO WHAT? Things are okay now because you found me? If you had been two minutes early during that attack you wouldnt even know I could use magic!"

"...but I *wasn’t* early!"

So Julian just throws up his hands in frustration and leaves to get away from Garak for a while.

The next day he mingles more with the other apprentices and they exchange Ideas and Skills and also Gossip about their teachers.

Some of the apprentices suggest that Julian could go to magic school for a while before applying for a *new* teacher, since obviously Garak did him wrong.

This doesn’t sound like a bad idea, so he talks with some older mages and most of them are friendly and are like “Oh yeah, sure, we’d love to take you in.”

But then it turns out a lot of people are talking behind his back about how much of an outlier he is.

(wizard culture is like 50% magic and 50% gossip)

So Julian is standing on a balcony and down below he hears a group of Douche Wizards discussing his inadequacies.

And it kinda makes Julian feel like absolute shit, so his powers go wobbly again. But then enter stage right: Garak

Who properly puts those wizards into their rightful place like "Say one more bad thing about my apprentice and I’ll blast your punk ass back to Romulus. You should KNOW the reason why I dont usually take apprentices, but here you are anyway saying he has no power. He has more power in his pinky than all of you combined."

Turns out there’s an extra layer to Why Garak didn’t do the "Check for Magicians in your Area" thing- it’s because he openly has no interest in training or working with anyone who isnt Special or Powerful.

Which means Julians happens to be. very special. and very powerful.

And hearing that from Garak makes him go 😳

His emotions are running high and he starts *floating*. Probably the worst thing to do on a first floor balcony out of All The Things To Do On A First Floor Balcony.

So he’s Floating and he doesnt know how to make that Stop.

He panics, starts falling and basically crashes right into Garaks arms.

"Oh great, youre right on time. We're leaving."

"What? But the banquet lasts for a week?" also I'm still a little mad but also a little in love with you?

But Garak has already teleported them back to the tower before he can really argue.

Anyway Julian is upset about many things overall, but mostly that he didnt get to dance. He practiced a lot in his off time.

Thank God Garak Knows This 

"...I know how to make magic music. Let’s have a little fun at least."

They dance and Julian starts floating *again*.

Garak 👀’s @ Julian floating "Okay I’ve been recording most of your emotion based powers. This is new."

Julian just Floats Higher out of embarrassment, so garak is like ‘well I'll just join him up there.’

So he does and Julian is like “WHY CAN YOU DO THAT. SHOW ME HOW TO DO THAT. HOW CAN I CONTROL THIS."

Turns out his emotions are too unclear, which makes his magic unbalanced, so really all they have to do is get him some Clarity.

Garak is like "Well one very easy way to do that is-" and then they kiss in the air. Floating. because I’m gay and I will use gay magic tropes as I see fit.

so that’s the garashir side of things, on to kiradax

There's Some Slow Burn In There

Basically Kira is a mage, but instead of using magic to fight she just Enchants Swords/Arrows/Other Weapons.

Because she fought in a wizard war and when there's not a lot of mana potions to go around you have to get creative.

She didn’t get a proper magician name because she was actually never anyone’s apprentice, but people still call her The Blade because she is just so cool.

Anyway in this universe mages age very slowly, and Kira is probably around 60 years old when she meets Jadzia. Which is not a lot in wizard years.

She does feels a little inadequate about being so Young and Inexperienced she didn’t really expect nor wanted to run into the legendary Jadzia Dax who everyone thinks is like 300 years old, maybe more.

So meeting someone who is her complete opposite just makes her go "Hmph. I dont wanna associate with you." 

But Jadzia keeps popping in randomly around her almost every day until Kira snaps like "WHAT is your problem???"

“I never learned how to enchant tools."

"What."

"Can you teach me?"

"The great Dax has never enchanted a single tool or weapon?"

"I took care of everything with other types of magic. Will you teach me?"

So Kira Nerys, The Blade, the person everyone looked down on because she uses enchanted tools instead of magic for everything- is being asked by this legendary mage to teach her something. What an honor. What an incredible thing.

But She Says No

So Jadzia keeps bothering her every day.

But eventually bothering her turned into "Hey wanna get some coffee? Wanna go to the library with me? Can I look at you while youre in the smithy? Do you wanna look at me while I come up with new magic formulas? Wanna get drunk together and maybe kiss but definitely have no recollection of it in the morning?"

- over a span of 10 years.

But at the end of those 10 years Jadzia still hasnt learned how to enchant tools.

And it takes One day at the magic banquet for Nerys to actually realise the Implications of that.

It’s the third banquet they've been to- together, as each other’s plus one.

They color coordinate their robes and wear matching accessoires. The works.

And Kira decides that now is the day to grill her Totally-Not-Girlfriend about the reason why she sticks around.

"You could have just gotten someone else to teach you how to enchant things."

"Why would I need anyone to teach me, I have you to enchant things *for me*."

"No but before I started doing it for you. Like the whole first five years of knowing me."

"Oh well I didn’t want anyone else because I was very much infatuated with you."

And Kira just bluescreens. Error 404 nerys.exe not found.

Until she catches herself.

"You...*were* infatuated with me?"

"Yes? You obviously never saw me that way though. So I stuck around for the good company and the coffee."

Now you see over the course of 10 years Kira’s irritation about Jadzia slowly turned into Something Else. But she thought Jadzia only saw her as a friend.

On the other hand Jadzia definitely had feelings from the start, but because kira was in Denial she didnt act on those feelings.

If I were a shitty writer or- god foirbid- *Straight*, I would have there be a miscommunication right about now and prolong their useless lesbian suffering.

But I’m not.

Basically Kira just goes 

"Okay but when you say *were* attracted to me does that mean you *stopped*?"

"Uh. No?"

"Cool. Excuse me, I need a moment."

So she tries to hide from this sudden revelation and her feelings in a hedge maze, but there’s no use hiding from Jadzia.

 Who, instead of just walking around the labyrinth to find her like a normal person, basically whacks down the bushes in a straight line until she reaches Kira.

"THERE YOU ARE! I used this completely unenchanted sword to get to you and tell you I definitely still like you. Now will you PLEASE teach me how to enchant tools as your first courting gift?"

And Kira is like "God yes you dumbass-" and they kiss.

now wizard quodo is funny because I kind of started this part as a joke but then it all got Serious

First of all Quark is Actually A Really Powerful Magician.

But what does he do with his great power?

Move from his home country to the city of wizards and open a bar.

Because he is still fundamentally *Quark*.

And Odo is still fundamentally Odo, because he is a Shapeshifting Alien From Actual Outer Space You Know.

He still went through the whole "I was studied by scientists (wizards) and couldnt let them know I was sentient for a long time which made me very grouchy and lonely" thing.

So Odo spends like ~100 years going from captivity/being an object of scientific study to living as a guard in the city of wizards.

Basically everyone thinks that Odo cant use magic- including Odo- because, well, he’s a bunch of slime that came from a meteor.

Then he meets Quark, powerful wizard and bartender.

And he has *no* idea who he is.

Only that he’s the guy who runs that one shady gambling bar and is involved in some illegal business.

And Quark is like "Ah finally. A worthy opponent."

So he and Quark have the same vibe as on DS9- where Quark keeps doing illegal stuff and Odo tries to stop him and the universe decides to say enemies to lovers 400k words slowburn.

And one day Quark gets into some Seriously shady business with some people who are now very aggressively demanding Quark give them their money back

and they're. you know. threatening violence.

Odo shows up and right before this one dude is about to straight up sucker punch Quark he's like "HALT!" and Wow He Made A Magic Happen.

Now. Because Quark is Indebted to Odo. He is expected to take him on as his magic apprentice.

At first he is Not Down For That. They both aren’t. So even though technically they are teacher and apprentice they both just refuse to work together.

Until Odo goes to check up on Quark one day- because as we all know he makes it a point to drop by his bar four times a day just to let him know he's thinking about him- and Quark is in trouble again.

Only this time Odo is like "I'm not gonna help him. I dont even know how I *could* help him. Since he hasn’t taught me any magic, the bastard."

So he wants to just pass by and leave when Quark basically starts to just Demolish these people with magic in a frightening and totally not impressive display.

MIND YOU Quark is still generally incompetent. If this was D&D he'd have like, very low skill points but unlimited spell slots.

Anyway Odo goes 👀

Because him being unable to use magic in a country/city where everyone he *knows* can use magic has always made him feel bad.

So he goes to Quark like "Okay. I changed my mind. Please teach me magic."

And Quark tries to teach Odo magic, earnestly. 

And Odo tries to learn magic from Quark, for real. 

But the key word here is *try*.

Because neither is very good at what theyre *trying* to do.

Odo didn’t Really want to learn from Quark and that's pretty much the reason why Quark doesnt Really want to teach Odo. But They Try.

There’s a lot of fights and arguments and "You’re not doing it right" vs "You’re not explaining it right"

But hey, at least Odo can now do some magic, which makes his guard job a lot easier.

He also gets to socialise more with other wizards and their apprentices, and he becomes a generally happier pile of humanoid goo!

Meanwhile Quark slowly but surely turns into a more Respected wizard. And his bar also becomes a bit more respectable as well.

it's almost like,,they both wanna be,,,,their best selves,,

and learning to work together has Somehow set them on the right path,,,

idk man sounds kinda gay,,,,

But then the banquet rolls around.

Quark is like "Oh fuck I Have to take Odo to this social function because hes my apprentice and thems are the rules."

and Odo is like "Oh fuck I Have to attend this social function with Quark because thems the rules."

The vibe they’re both getting is- "It's all fun and games when we're by ourselves but Somehow acting friendly in public feels Wrong." 

So they agree to Arrive together and then split up and spend as little time as possible together lest they fall victim to some kind of *feeling*.

And like all plans that Odo and Quark make it works out brilliantly for Exactly 5 Minutes.

Because while Quark is talking to his accomplished and very boring wizard acquaintances he kinda realises "God I wish Odo were here-"

And as Odo is talking to all these annoying ass apprentices he kinda realises "God I wish Quark was here-"

So that's what they do on the first day of the banquet. and the second. and the third. 

They just keep only seeing each other from the corner of their eyes but dont really get to talk/argue about anything and it's making them feel Not So Good, Actually

Now the fourth day is the kicker.

Because while Odo is talking to some people he gets tapped on the shoulder and there he is! The worst father on this side of the galaxy! Doctor Mora- but like, as a wizard scientist.

"Oh my god Odo? You’re here? How did you manage that? You can’t use magic dont be silly! *I* studied you and who would know you better than me? What? *you* know yourself better? Nonsense, now walk with me- how have you been :)?"

Obviously Odo is getting Very distressed but he can't exactly say No, so he walks around with Mora.

They sit down near a fountain and his ‘father’ just starts grilling Odo about what he's been up to.

And eventually they start talking about Quark

"Wait, *Quark*? The absolute magic failure who runs that disgusting establishment? That Quark?"

"Well I wouldnt put it like that, he’s not-"

But Mora goes on- "Oh no my dear boy that won't do! You have to learn from a *good* wizard. Like me! Dont you want that? Oh I'm sure you want that. That nasty good for nothing will resign as your teacher first thing tomorrow!"

And Odo is like "Now wait a minute, Quark might have his flaws, but-"

"There! See, you admitted it. He's flawed. He can't possibly be a good teacher for you. But I would be! I *raised* you."

But Odo is getting Rather Angy right about now.

"Well you did a pretty bad job raising me considering you didnt even know I could do magic until now."

"I can’t believe it. Quark is such a bad influence on you. You never used to talk back at me. This is what happens when you hang around with people who dont know you like I do."

Then something in him snaps and Odo just goes Off on Mora.

"MAYBE *YOU* DONT KNOW *HIM* LIKE I DO!"

And he basically breaks the fountain theyre sitting at with some accidental emotional magic.

So after Mora goes "...I better get someone to fix that-" and runs off, Odo is standing in front of this broken fountain and thinks about how this might be a cruel metaphor for his life. And then the worst possible thing happens.

He Spots Quark Badly Hidden Behind A Pillar

Internally he just goes 'AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA' 

Externally though it’s more like "How much of that did you hear???"

Quark’s trying to lighten the mood with a "Haha well it's hard to avoid hearing things with lobes as big as mine!" 

But Odo is not playing, so he breaks the fountain some more. As intimidation.

So Quark goes "Okay. Alright. I heard all the parts where you defended my honor. Now move aside."

And Odo goes 'AAAAAAAAAAAAAA' inside again, so he doesnt really move but just gets nudged aside by Quark.

Who returns the fountain back to its previous state.

Things are nice and silent for a second but then Quark disturbs the moment by saying "Okay now, real talk- you want another teacher, is that right?"

So Odos head whips up and he goes "No??? What the fuck quark. I thought you listened to that conversation. Youre the only one I want-"

and he Immediately slaps a hand over his mouth because Oh God That Came Out Wrong-

But Quark is just Laughing and being his usual little shit self like "Haha good one, let's go back inside now. (where the social conventions will force us to remain apart so we dont have to confront what you just said.)"

on the inside though- Quark is just as 'AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA' as Odo

"I absolutely Cannot go inside and socialise right now, I’ve had Quite enough of that." 

"Oh...well then...i'll leave you be?"

"No don’t-"

So Odo quickly grabs Quark’s hand (and Quark just fuckin uh dies on the spot) but he's not very communicative at the moment. So Quark kinda has to just interpret that for himself.

"Aaaaalright- let’s just take a walk then."

So they walk through the rose garden. holding *hands*. and Quark points out nice or interesting things while Odo just nods or hums in agreement.

Until they’ve come full circle and end up back at the fountain, where Quark is like "Okay. Wanna go back inside *now*?" 

Because he swears if they spend one more second like this he will HAVE to kiss this pile of space goo and he’d rather Odo make that decision for him.

And Odo is like "I just want to stay with you."

So Quark is like ‘Cool Cool Cool Cool Cool Cool Cool’, pulls them behind a hedge and kisses Odo.

because on GOD I enjoy the “going from an argument straight into kissing” trope, but that one is actually too on brand for quodo so I HAD to change it up.

[lcvebuilt]

apocalypse au + klaus

       (   i decided to use the decimation from avengers: endgame because i’m awful but then decided to take it one step further and introduce some concepts from pulse, the walking dead, and a few other apocalypse tropes bc why not make everyone suffer.   )

       the world ends.  not with a bang, but silence.  technology goes down first;  phones drop service,  internet lines disconnect, power grids shut down one by one.  in a matter of minutes, everything is offline.  that’s not the worst of it;   people start disappearing.  there one second, gone the next.  they crumble into dust, dissipating as if they were never there to begin with.   they call it the decimation.  

           people act like you’d expect them to.  they riot, they steal, they kill.  stores are knocked over, hospitals raided, and homes destroyed.  the death tolls rise into the hundreds of thousands by the first week.  unreported, save for a lone radio frequency that broadcasts … if you have an old school am/fm battery powered radio to listen on.   the mikaelsons have but one,  all of them crowded around it.   some are afraid, others resolved.   in the end, they vow to stay together;  there are strength in numbers.  

         from what they’ve gathered, it all started with a pulse.  it took down all communications, destroyed infrastructures like a snap heard around the world.  the decimation is swift and it’s unflinching;  it took kol and rebekah without warning.   there was nothing they could do but watch them crumble into dust.    finn remembers the way tears clung to his eyelids,  how niklaus exploded as the rage consumed him.   elijah,  ever resolute,  simply kept his eyes trained on the spots where their siblings had once sat.   

        they move.   the mikaelson mansion is less fortress, more prison.  the memories suffocate more than the feeling of helplessness.   they steal a car in the next town over,  raid a dilapidated grocery store and salvage whatever’s left.   the people that remain,  those that survive,  stay inside.   the powers that be don’t know the cause of the decimation;  most believe this is only the first wave.    finn believes in what he can see,  what is right in front of him.   he knows staying stagnant will kill them faster than any disease,  so they press on.   

        three months into their expedition, their carefully laid plans start to go awry.   niklaus gets his foot caught in a bear trap.  between he and elijah,  finn’s able to pry him free, but it’s at a cost.   the wound is cauterized with a blow torch, wrapped in gauze they stole from a pharmacy some weeks earlier,  but there’s no painkillers on the road.  there’s no way to quiet their brother’s suffering.  finn lies awake at night;   the oldest,  the useless,  wishing for the strength to keep moving forward.   the radio speaks of a paradise;  they call it the oasis,  a place that exists outside the wasteland that has become their world.  somehow they have power,  somehow they have technology.  it’s the promise of a brighter tomorrow that keeps them moving forward.  

       they’re only a few days away from the oasis when tragedy strikes.  niklaus is shivering with fever.  finn’s known something was wrong for awhile;  the infection has crept up his leg, seems to be poisoned deep in his blood.  when he speaks, his words are slurred.  his eyes sink in,  his mouth slack.   you’ll be okay,   he tells his brother,  not sure he even believes it anymore.  just breathe, brother.  we’ll be there soon.    he sends elijah to search for antibiotics the next day,  knowing that klaus won’t survive to see him return.   he knows before niklaus turns,  before the infection seizes control of him,  that this will only end one way.   he’s been listening to the radio late at night,  long after elijah has warned them not to obsess over facts they can’t verify.    but he’s known;   in truth, he’s known a while.   this virus is terminal and he’ll have to do what needs to be done to ensure the survival of the family.  ironic that it has to be him, given his predispositions to wanting to be anything but a mikaelson.   he pulls the trigger himself,  weeps until he hears tires crunching on the gravel.   when elijah punches him,  he accepts it.    it’s a pain he can stomach.   

        when they make it to the oasis,  there’s little left.   they’re exhausted,  elijah’s abandoned all hope of salvation, and it’s becoming more and more difficult to believe in a place that offers hope.   a girl greets them at the door;   her eyes are hard,  shoulders set.   her mother stands behind her,  shotgun at her shoulder.   “ if you’re looking for trouble, i suggest you look elsewhere. “   when elijah steps forward, hands held in surrender,  the gun is trained on his chest.   he thinks his brother falls in love right then and there.   

         hayley marshall is a survivor.   her husband was killed in the decimation.  she had no other family,  save her daughter.  the two of them headed east,  coming across a man named vincent who claimed he could save them all from their own destruction.   they’d been with him ever since, working to fortify the oasis as a safe haven.   they even had a cure for the airborne infection if administered quickly enough.   this,  finn thought,  could be their salvation.   or at least it would be,  for elijah.  

            when he’d shot niklaus,  he’d done it to be merciful.   but his hand had shook,  the bullet missing his brother’s heart,  and teeth had sliced through his arm before he died.  he drew blood,  spreading the infection.    for finn,  it was too late.    in the end,  it didn’t matter.  he’d kept his promise,  dedicated himself to saving the family he once seemed so desperate to escape.  in his last moments,  as elijah’s hand rested against his shoulder,  he knew that he’d done the best he could.   he could rest easy,  he could find peace.  

[aion-rsa]

Superman & Lois Episode 2 Review: Heritage

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This Superman & Lois review contains spoilers.

Superman and Lois Episode 2

There was a time, long ago, when big genre TV shows would get two hour premieres. Not the kind of two hour premiere that Superman & Lois had, where an episode that was actually a full hour without commercials got stretched out over a longer time slot with additional commercial breaks and a behind-the-scenes special. I mean a genuine 90 minute pilot that sat in a two hour timeslot. Those days are long gone, but I’ve long suspected that The CW structures the first two episodes of its biggest new series accordingly. And just as Superman & Lois feels like the most ambitious addition to the network’s DC TV lineup since The Flash, so too does its second episode feel like an extension of its first.

That’s a very good thing, by the way.

If anything, Superman & Lois episode 2 is an even easier watch than the impressive first episode. At this point, you’ve either bought into the concept of the show as a family drama, and the idea of Lois and Clark as parents, or you haven’t. We’ve met all the key players already, so there’s a little less exposition necessary (although, to be fair, it isn’t like the first episode committed the sin that so many CW pilots do, where it can sometimes feel like characters are taking turns introducing themselves to the camera), and the story itself can breathe.

What that means, for one thing, is more action. I can’t tell for sure, but it certainly feels like we spend a little more time with Superman in costume than we did in the first episode. And if you liked the cinematic look and feel of those sequences before, you’re in luck, because there’s no sign whatsoever that they blew their effects budget on that episode. This show just looks great.

That shouldn’t be a surprise though, right? It’s Superman. There’s a general sense that the network and the producers knew that either you go big or go home with the Man of Steel, hence the show’s widescreen look and amped-up special effects and redesigned costume. Superman & Lois episode 2 isn’t wall-to-wall action, but when we get it, it counts and it looks terrific, and that’s what matters.

That title, “Heritage” refers very much to Jonathan and Jordan Kent, particularly the latter. The parental decision is made to keep him home from school after his “ocular release of energy” at the Shuster Mines, specifically so that Clark can take him to the Fortress of Solitude for evaluation by the Kryptonian technology stored there (and the holographic form of Jor-El) and to gauge his power levels. Jonathan, on the other hand, has to go to a school where he doesn’t feel terribly welcome, especially when steps were taken to make sure that the football team’s playbook never arrived for him to study, thereby making his life a little harder on the field where he usually excels.

But “Heritage” could also refer to how much Smallville has changed since Clark left it. While Lana’s husband Kyle Cushing isn’t the most likeable character on the show, he effectively speaks for the people of Smallville who feel they’ve been left behind, and who are in desperate need of a job creator like new Daily Planet owner (and apparent vulture capitalist) Morgan Edge. So far, Clark dealing with the Jordan issue means that he hasn’t yet come to terms with how Smallville has moved on (or fallen) since he’s been gone, and it’s Lois who finds herself in the line of fire with the locals. Something tells me that eventually this is going to change, whether in a confrontation with Kyle or whether it’s Lois who forces him to reckon with what’s happening.

We also learn more about the mysterious “Captain Luthor,” who may not be the villain he was presented as last week. For starters, he uses non-lethal force on the soldiers who confront him, and despite the dangerous situations he’s created in the past, they were clearly designed to draw Superman out rather than cause maximum loss of life. But more importantly, it seems he comes from a world where Kal-El was either inherently evil or let his power corrupt him, and he had his own relationship with General Sam Lane on his world. Some harrowing footage that closes the episode indicates that Captain Luthor’s grudge against the Man of Steel is justified.

In case you can’t tell, “Heritage” is juggling quite a lot. But it manages to not get in its own way, while dealing with its heavier dramatic moments unpretentiously and its weightier subjects with relative ease. I often cringe at the Supergirl model of journalism, or what has passed for it with the Central City Citizen on The Flash. Taking both Lois and Clark out of The Daily Planet may help in that regard here, and so far they seem to be easing Lois into doing some investigative journalism here. There’s still the question of whether Lois actually has enough to do at the moment, but since this episode feels very much like an extension of the pilot, I’m willing to give everyone the benefit of the doubt right now.

Speaking of Lois getting into trouble, we do get our first look at the new Morgan Edge this week. Adam Rayner is Edge this time around, taking over from the Earth-38 version who was played by Adrian Pasdar over on Supergirl. As with Sam Lane, we can chalk this bit of recasting up to the changes made to reality by Crisis on Infinite Earths. Rayner’s Edge is a little more subdued, a bit more cynical, and more of the elegant boardroom shark that was first introduced in the comics. He’s certainly not the nicest guy on the show, but time will tell if he’s actually the season’s big bad or if they’re going to eventually give him some nuance, as well.

This core cast is really what powers everything through. Elizabeth Tulloch and Tyler Hoechlin are, of course, perfect in their roles, and there’s probably not much reason for me to hit that point every week. But seeing them as parents is a new wrinkle for the characters overall, and the pair hit this pretty effortlessly. In particular, Hoechlin’s resigned “you heard your mother” after Tulloch’s Lois puts the boys in their place during a blowup is both perfectly delivered and wryly funny. Even Superman knows who’s really in charge in their house. That entire scene could have gone south in less gifted hands, but the four actors who make up this Kent family make it work.

The warmth between Jordan Elsass and Alexander Garfin as Jonathan and Jordan Kent that feels even more pronounced in this episode than the previous one. Particularly when they’re getting along, they’re fun and believable as brothers, and they (along with Inde Navaratte as Sarah Cushing) are refreshingly free of the overwritten teen dialogue that has become de rigueur over the last couple of decades. It also helps that the entire young cast are actually believable as high school freshmen…it’s pretty hilarious to think Jordan, Jonathan, and Sarah are supposed to be the same age that Clark, Lana, and Pete were in the first season of Smallville, for example. If you missed it, watch for Jonathan and Jordan’s simultaneous reaction when their mom goes after Morgan Edge at the Town Hall. Superman & Lois isn’t as likely to lean on humor as The Flash, but it could use more subtle moments like this one.

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It feels like the pieces are all in place now, and that there are even bigger and better things ahead.

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