#probably a buncha hidden other weapons too

[aashiyancha]

Casual Alice

[rogueariadne]

To Have A Villain’s Quirk

NINE: LET HIM GO

Song: One For The Money - Escape The Fate

The next day was pretty uneventful, at least during the morning. Still sticking to a normal school curriculum, English was first, with normal core classes following behind. Then lunch, which was pretty nice, but, of course, Kaida didn't eat anything that was there. It seemed to confuse her classmates but they didn't give it too much thought. She sat with Kaminari and Kirishima, trying to get to know them better but it was mostly them talking to each other. They both tried to include her in the conversation but she had trouble keeping up. And finally, the time had come.

    UA's Hero Course.

    They all sat in their respective spots, the classroom alive with chatter. Kaida had out her notebook, doodling away as she watched the other students talk among themselves. Humming softly to herself, she tilted her head to the side. She was a seat in front of Hagakure, the invisible girl, and right behind her was Bakugo, who looked like he was staring off into space. Midoriya was right behind him. He looked like he was in deep thought, going over his notebook probably. It made her smile. At least they made it past the first day together. Kaida nearly jumped out of her seat as All Might came bursting through the door, hanging onto the door frame and leaning into the room. "I am here!"

    "Coming through the door like a hero!" Kaida giggled a bit while everyone else gasped, realizing just who was in front of them. Yes, it was the number one pro hero. She smiled lightly as everyone seemed to be getting excited about how he was a teacher. She watched him march to the front of the room. "Welcome to the most important class at UA High. Think of it as 'Hero-ing 101'. Here, you will learn the basics of being a pro. And what it means to fight in the name of good! Let's get into it! Today's lesson will pull no punches!"

    "Fight training!" She could hear the grin in Bakugo's voice without even looking at him. Only to hear Midoriya's worried question. Poor boy.

    "But one of the keys of being a hero is... looking good!" He immediately pointed to the side, grinning away as compartments automatically came out of the wall. "These were specifically designed for you based on your Quirk registration forms and the requests you sent in before school started." Even Kaida was excited at this point, knowing exactly what it was. Their hero costumes. She grinned ear to ear as she thought about it. She went into full detail designing the costume. It was simple but it was hers. "Get yourselves suited up, and then meet me at Training Ground Beta!"

    "Yes, sir!" Kaida quickly grabbed her suitcase, following the girls to their changing room. The girl was hesitant to open it, noticing how the others were already stripping out of their clothes to put on the costumes. Ochaco tilted her head at the ghoul.

    "Is everything okay, Hiyama?" Kaida glanced up at her before nodding, laughing a little. "Are you nervous, too?"

    "Uh, yeah. I just hope it looks good on me."

    "I don't think that'll be a problem, Hiyama. You're very pretty, I think it'll look fine, however it looks." She turned her head to see Yaoyorozu looking at her with a confident smile. She was already dressed in her costume, causing Hiyama's face to go red.

    'So gorgeous!'

    "Right, okay!" She took a deep breath before carefully changing into the suit. A cropped skintight top, a slightly longer cropped jacket, shorts, tights, boots, and gloves. All that was left was the mask she had designed, pulling it around her neck first to button the back, then zipping down the front. She pulled the surgical like bands behind her ears to keep the mask in place, finally fixing it over her nose. The neon lines on the front made it look like teeth, fit for a ghoul. The bolts on the side were added just for some flair.

    "Perfect." Kaida looked herself I the mirror, twisting and turning as she fixed her hair up in a ponytail. She was smiling but no one could see it. Hagakure slide beside her, sounding ecstatic about her classmates outfit.

    "Whoa! You look cool! That mask is pretty, too!" Yaoyorozu stepped behind her, arms crossed.

    "Simple but nice." If only they knew the meaning behind it. The other girls lined up, taking in their costumes as well. They all exchanged the same look of confidence before turning and making their way to the training grounds. Marching onto the scene, Kaida couldn't help but feel empowered, walking with everyone like this. In their hero costumes, no less. They were just one step closer to becoming pros.

    "They say that clothes make the pros, young ladies and gentlemen, and behold, you are the proof! Take this to heart. From now on you are all... heroes in training!" All Might's voice rang through the area as they exited the tunnel, coming to a stop as they spread out a little. Kaida stood near the tall dupli-armed boy, Shoji, catching Uraraka just next to her. She noticed, however, that Midoriya wasn't there yet. "This is getting me all revved up. You look so cool! Now. Shall we get started, you buncha newbies?" Kaida grinned, cracking her knuckles at his challenge. She turned her head to look at Midoriya as he entered, Uraraka calling him out. She wanted to go say hello and talk about his outfit, but it looked like gravity girl had it covered. Kaida looked away with a small smile, glancing to the ground. A certain blond looked back at the girls sudden exclamation, catching the look on the ghoul's face.

    "Now that you're ready, it's time for combat training." The pro hero started, only for Iida to cut in.

    "Sir! This is the fake city from our entrance exam. Does that mean we'll be conducting urban battles again?"

    "Not quite. I'm going to move you two steps ahead. Most of the villain fights you see on the news take place outside. However, statistically speaking, run-ins with the most dastardly evildoers take place indoors. Think about it. Backroom deals, home invasions, secret underground lairs. Truly intelligent criminals stay hidden in the shadows. For this training exercise, you'll be split into teams of good guys and bad guys and fight two-on-two indoor battles. I know we have an extra in the class, but don't worry! I came prepared!"

    "Isn't this a little advanced?" Kaida looked in front of her, seeing the frog girl. She had forgotten her name, whoops. She did have a valid question though.

    "The best training is what you get on the battlefield! But remember, you can't just punch a robot this time. You're dealing with actual people now." Everyone seemed to join in in asking questions, causing Kaida to look back and forth between everyone, noticing how Kaminari had moved more towards the back, standing next to Kirishima now. She was caught staring, Denki turning his head at just the right time to give her a big grin before turning back to their growling teacher. "I wasn't finished talking!"

    "Listen up!" A script? "The situation is this: The villains have hidden a nuclear missile somewhere in their hideout. The heroes must try to foil their plans. To do that, the good guys either have to catch the evildoers or recover the weapon. Likewise, the bad guys succeed if they protect their payload or capture the heroes." Kaida tilted her head. It sounded like a video game. "Time's limited, and we'll choose teams by drawing lots. I brought an extra box along for the extra person, too!" Before Iida could really throw a fit, Midoriya brought him back down by explaining the urgency of how teaming up works. It seemed to do the trick as he apologized. Everyone moved forward to draw their lots, Kaida waiting until she was the last one and grabbed out of the extra one, courtesy of All Might.

    All teams were formed and All Might stared down at the maroonette, leaning down to get a good look at her paper. "And young Hiyama! Look's like you're on Team E!" Kaida nodded as the pinkette and twinktoes joined her.

    "Yay! We got an extra! We totally got this in the bag!" Ashido yelled, sticking her tongue out at everyone else. Some just rolled their eyes, the others just kind of laughed. Kaida smiled a little as she threw an arm over the other's shoulders, pulling her along. She just barely caught that Midoriya was facing Bakugo. She hoped he'd be alright.. She didn't fight the girl as she let her lead her to the monitoring room with everyone else.

    Hiyama tried to keep up with Ashido's babbling, just nodding dumbly along, catching bits and pieces as they stood in front of the monitors. As the time started, everyone quieted down, watching carefully. Kaida took off the mask in the meantime, keeping her eyes on the green suited boy on the screen. Her hands flew to her mouth as Bakugo attacked. Everyone was calling out but Kaida's eyes were fixated on the boys. Her eyes widened, watching how Midoriya took Bakugo down. She kept her hands clutched together in front of her chest, brows furrowing. She was so proud of him with how far he's come, but she was terrified. She was pulled from her thoughts as a hand rested on her shoulder. She looked to the side to see Denki, smiling at her.

    "Hey, don't worry. He'll be fine." He reassured, dropping his hand as he turned back to the screen. Kaida smiled a little and nodded, continuing to watch the fight. She had pretty much blocked out everything that they were talking about, watching closely. "Whoa, that guy has some major anger issues.. it's kinda scary." She heard from Denki, but she didn't hear anyone else. As Bakugo found Midoriya again, Kaida bit her lip, eyes widening more as she gasped, realizing what was going to happen. She flung herself forward, hands slamming down on the rail beside All Might.

    "No! All Might you have to stop him!"

    "Young Bakugo! Don't do it! You'll kill him!" He yelled into the mic, Kaida gripping the rail so hard she was sure there had to be a dent in it by now. As the explosion released, Kaida shouted, hand covering her mouth.

    "All Might, please tell them to stop! He's going to pulverize him!" Hiyama begged, glancing up at the hero. He looked like he was torn. "All Might!" Everyone else started joining in to shut him down. The fight dragged on and she was finding it hard to watch, flinching as she could see Bakugo yelling away.

    "They're gonna kill each other! Sir!" Kirishima yelled, causing Kaida to slam her hand down once again.

    "All Might! Shut them down!" She watched the two boys go, ready to destroy each other. She could feel her eyes tearing up. How could Bakugo just do that to him? How could Midoriya keep going? All Might started to tell them to stop before he heard something from them. She didn't know what, but the impatience was gnawing at her. Suddenly, Midoriya punched through the entire ceiling, her gasping as Bakugo blasted at him. It was quiet as the scene died down, everyone staring wide eyed and open mouthed.

    "You did it." All Might started. "The hero team... Wins!" A breath, Kaida didn't even know she was holding, came rushing out, feeling a few tears slip down her face as she saw her best friend drop to the ground. She still had a fight she had to do, but all she wanted right now was to rush to him. She couldn't though, and it killed her. She quickly wiped away her tears, starting to feel the rage bubbling up inside her, all of it towards the ash blond bond. She watched her friend get wheeled off the scene by the infirmary robots, just waiting for the other boy to walk in. She could hear people faintly talking, and she could've sworn she heard her name a few times but she was too taken over by her rage. She hadn't even noticed how her eyes changed, glowing their bright red.

    "Kai..?" Denki stared at the rage fueled girl, Mina hearing his question and looking to the girl.

    "Hey.. is she okay? Hiyama?" She moved to rest her hand on her shoulder, turning to the door as it opened, revealing Bakugo. As he walked in, Kaida heard his name, and the door close behind him, snapping from her thoughts as her rinkaku came loose, immediately pinning him against the wall. It all happened so fast, no one could comprehend what happened until Bakugo started yelling.

    "What the fuck, Red?! Let me go, you damn brat!" He growled out, clenching his teeth as her ghoul eyes stared him down.

    "What the hell were you thinking?! You could've killed him!" Everyone flinched, Denki trying to pull her back, only for her to quickly shake him off. "Are you so threatened by him that you had to go that far?! Are you really that afraid that someone you've looked down on your whole lives is better than you?!"

    "Young Hiyama! Stand down!" She ignored All Might's demand as she took a step closer to him.

    "I don't think it's any of your business how I feel, idiot! Now, let go of me before I blast you to hell!" Kaida tightened her grip on his limbs, keeping him from exploding the tentacles.

    "I'd like to see you try!"

    "Kaida!" She snapped her attention to the three that called out her name. Kaminari, Ashido, and Uraraka stood there, worried expressions across their faces, Ashido walking towards her and resting a calming hand on her arm. "Let him go.."

    She glanced between everyone in the room, eyes widening as she realized what she had done. She quickly but carefully put the boy down, the tails dissolving and eyes relaxing. She looked down, ashamed. "I.. A-All Might, may I be excused, please?" The room was quiet before the man cleared his throat.

    "Very well." Hiyama nodded and pulled herself away from everyone, pushing past Bakugo as she went. She ran from the training grounds, just barely catching up to the gurney that pulled the green haired boy away. She walked beside him, explaining to Recovery Girl what happened and that she was allowed to stay. She didn't dare leave his side. She promised Mama Midoriya she would take care of him. She couldn't help but think of what happened back in the monitoring room. What was she thinking? She let her feelings get the best of her, she could've seriously hurt someone. She was an idiot.

    Back in the monitoring room, all was quiet before All Might ordered the next team to go. Bakugo stood at the back, fists balled as he recounted what happened, ignoring the stares he got from everyone else. Ashido frowned as she crossed her arms, standing between Aoyama and Kaminari. "I hope she's okay.."

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[mooksie01]

With Teammates Like These, Who Needs Friends? (1/5)

Summary: Clover doesn't care what the other Ace Ops have to say, he absolutely does NOT have a crush on Huntsman Branwen. He just admires his skill on the battlefield. And the visible results of his obviously-excellent training regiment. And his gorgeous eyes. And his mysterious demeanor. And voice.

Okay, Clover might have just a little bit of a crush on Huntsman Branwen, but that doesn't matter, because if the other Ace Ops are going to tease him relentlessly for it, then he just won't pursue any relationship with the guy!

...Maybe.

Warnings: None, really, for this chapter. Death mention in the context of a joke. Gratuitous bullying of teammates. Spoilers for RWBY Volume 7.

AO3 Link: [X] 

Notes:  Hey, so... I haven't really written for fun in over four years. Which. Is pretty crazy to think about. But my New Year's Resolution this year is to get back into it because it used to make me really happy. With that said, I'm pretty rusty nowadays, so I'm sorry if any of this reads a little awkwardly. I'm hoping to get back to the level I used to be at with some practice, but I know it'll take time. This fic is mainly my effort at shaking the dust off with my current favorite show and favorite ship.  I hope you all enjoy! Please like, reblog, and comment if you have the time to do so, I'd really appreciate some encouragement while I get back into the swing of things! FAIR GAME RIGHTS!!

---

Clover can’t say that he isn’t expecting it, but even he is a little taken by surprise when, only mere seconds after closing the door to the Ace Ops’ commons, a heavy hand lands on his shoulder and spins him around with enough force to make him dizzy. 

Elm’s ecstatic face immediately fills his entire field of vision. 

Oh, Brothers.

“Clover!” 

He attempts to wave her off, feeling his face grow hot. “I’m trying to head to bed, Elm. Gotta be up bright and early tomorrow, you know.” 

Her shit-eating grin only grows larger. Her vice-grip tightens. He will not be escaping any time soon. His death warrant is signed and hidden somewhere in the mess that Elm calls her quarters. 

Elm manhandles him to the couch and shoves him down to sit, then flops down next to him and tosses her wrapped feet onto the coffee table. 

He wrinkles his nose. “Elm, please. I’ve talked to you about your feet and the table.” 

Ignoring him (as she so often does) Elm simply continues to grin smugly at him. “Who would’ve thought?! Our very own captain!” 

Clover rolls his eyes in what he hopes to be a clear sign of his exasperation. 

“Elm, what are you even talking about?” Marrow pipes up from where he is leaning against the wall. His arms are crossed over his chest in a deliberate attempt to appear uninterested, though his faintly wagging tail gives him away. Clover hadn’t even noticed him until he’d spoken. 

Looking around, he realizes that all of his subordinates are standing about the room, watching the interaction with varying degrees of interest. Just great. He considers whether or not it would be worth it to attempt to preemptively write Elm up for not-yet-conducted insubordination. 

Hm. He probably isn’t allowed to do that.

He startles as Elm yanks her feet off the table next to him, instead throwing herself forward so she can bang her fist against the helpless furniture to punctuate her next statement, “Our captain has a crush on Huntsman Branwen!” 

“Elm,” Harriet sighs, “stop being an idiot. Again. You know that he--” 

Clover pulls himself away from Elm and her interrogation couch. He stands up, straight-backed, falling into a parade rest that has his shoulders held just a little too tightly to his ears, positive that his face is red. “That’s enough,” he orders, voice as firm as he can make it, “what I do is none of your concern, Elm. Nor anyone else’s. This conversation is… unprofessional, to say the least. And it’s over.” 

Rather than be appropriately cowed by his scolding, Elm only flashes him an even bigger smile. On the other side of the room, Harriet makes a choking sound and starts to sputter, “Holy shit, you are--!”

Elm jumps to her feet, swinging a muscular arm over his shoulders. “I think you mean ‘who you do,’ Captain!” 

Clover shrugs her off, scowling. “Elm!” His mind races, attempting to formulate a way to escape this horrible situation, but it seems that no amount of luck is getting him out of this one.

“Well,” Vine rubs speculatively at his chin, finally deciding to contribute something to this dumpster-fire of a conversation, and Clover makes the split-second mistake of hoping that he will be the voice of reason to shut the whole thing down, “you can hardly blame our captain. Huntsman Branwen is, objectively, quite conventionally attractive. Not to mention his skill-level and renown in the field and all of the good he has done in the ongoing battle against Salem….” 

Clover feels his soul die a little.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me!” Marrow throws his hands up in the air, his tail raised in visible agitation. “What are we, a buncha kids? You’ve known the guy for five minutes!” 

Elm laughs uproariously, “And he stared at Huntsman Branwen for all five! Not to mention the extra twenty seconds when he was watching him walk away!” 

Harriet gags. She looks incredibly annoyed and vaguely disgusted at this turn of events.

“That really is enough--!” Clover tries.

“Really?” Vine tilts his head, coming a few steps closer. He peers at Clover in a speculative manner. “It seems to me that it would be difficult to catch a glimpse of Huntsman Branwen’s posterior, considering that the cape he wears covers it quite effectively. Are you sure, Elm, that that is what Clover was doing?” 

“Haha!” Elm raises her hand for a high-five, which her partner passively returns.

Clover is sure his skin-tone must faintly resemble that of the Atlas Academy mess hall’s tomato soup by now. He had not been staring at Huntsman Branwen’s ass. Even if he were interested in Qrow Branwen like that, he’s too much of a gentleman to do such a thing. Besides, there were plenty of other attractive aspects of Huntsman Branwen to focus on without having to drool over his “posterior” like some sort of mangy grimm. Like his soft vermillion eyes; or his trim waist; or his hair, which looked like the shining feathers of his namesake; or his elegant hands, undoubtedly calloused from so many years of handling his weapon so skillfully…. He swallows hard and feels his face flare up anew as he realizes what train of thought he’d been taking. 

Looking up, he catches Elm smirking at him again. Marrow and Harriet have near-matching expressions of distaste. Vine is merely studying him with even more interest than before.

He opens his mouth to retaliate, only for Vine to cut him off, clasping his hands behind his back in a move so prim that it leaves Clover completely unprepared for what he says next: “I believe our captain was just lost in thought about Huntsman Branwen’s posterior again.” 

Clover coughs hard, choking on his own spit. Vaguely, he registers the sound of Elm exploding into further laughter at his expense. 

“Oh, ew, ew, ew!” Marrow covers his ears, baring his teeth at Vine and Elm and probably also Clover. 

Harriet simply glowers at all of them, “I did not need to know that.”

After a moment, Clover pulls himself together. He glares at his attackers, “Elm,” he snarls, “Vine.” 

Vine takes an even step back, cocking his head inquisitively, “I apologize, did I say something incorrect?”

Elm loops her bicep around her partner’s neck in a pseudo-chokehold that he makes no attempt to remove himself from. “No, Vine, but I believe that’s our cue to leave!” She extricates herself from him and once again brings her hand down hard on Clover’s shoulder, having apparently never learned that it isn’t wise to poke an angry bear. “Don’t worry, boss, I’ll make sure to keep an extra eye out for your little bird!” She winks and pats him a few times with enough force to jolt his entire upper torso. “Though I’m sure you’ll already have that handled!” 

Then, in a blink, she has removed herself from the room, Vine following behind her at a more sedate pace. 

They are going to be facing so much disciplinary action, Clover thinks furiously. They will be scrubbing the floors for months. He turns to face Harriet and Marrow, who are somehow still in the room, staring at him. He crosses his arms firmly over his chest, “Do either of you have something to add?”

Marrow merely shakes his head and turns tail to leave. 

Harriet looks him over for a moment longer, then makes a sharp tsk’ing sound with her tongue. “Gross.”

She spins on her heel and walks down the hallway that leads to each of their personal rooms.

Clover sighs heavily and plops back down on the couch. It is going to be a long however-many-months with Huntsman Branwen and his students here. 

Still, he can certainly make it easier on himself by avoiding working with the other man. Even if he is incredibly attractive….

(No! Bad Clover!)

Everything will go over much more smoothly if he just isn’t seen staring at or talking to or even vaguely thinking about Huntsman Branwen from here on out.

---

More Notes: So, that was the first chapter! I hope you liked it and that it made your day a little brighter :)

The first installment is already completely finished minus some light editing. Stuff from here on out will probably be formatted as oneshots rather than chaptered fics, but I wanted this first part to be a bit longer and explore the very beginnings of our boys' relationship, with particular emphasis on Clover being a Secret Gay Disaster. Is that actually my headcanon for the show? Nah. Is that what this fic turned into? Absolutely.

Anyway, I'm currently deciding whether I want to post one chapter everyday for the next four days to finish this story up or if I want to post every other day. If anyone has any opinions on that, I'd be glad to hear them.

[seirundevir-blog]

Open

((Another longish post, feedback is welcomed and appreciated!))

“Is it going to take much longer you reckon?” The large, rugged man huffed, twirling the heavy axe in his hands like it was little more than a giant toy. The much shorter, thinner man currently crouched in front of the ornate, metallic chest grumbled, wafting one hand idly in his direction, then pushing his hear next to the locking mechanism, moving the lockpicks inside slowly. There was definitely something wrong there, the tumblers were giving in far too easily for such a lock. “Hush. Something's not right. It's probably trapped. Give me a few minutes.” “We may not have a few minutes. The lizards are bound to sniff us out soon now that this room isn't hidden anymore.” The tall woman was leaning behind the wall at the entrance of the small room, pointedly looking toward the corridor that constituted the only entrance, and exit, from the previously concealed storage, bow held firmly in hand, one arrow already nocked. “Bah! Let them come I say, we'll take care of them!” The gruff voice was followed by a dull, heavy slam on the pavement as the stout and heavily armoured figure bashed his massive warhammer against it, cracking and shattering the stone underneath, and raising a shield almost as big as his short self toward the corridor. The woman glared daggers at the loud companion, before turning back toward the figure crouching in front of the reinforced chest. “Hurry it up! How long are you going to take Sei?” She huffed, the tips of her long ears twitching slightly. “Wait! I hear something. They are coming this way! Good job Morn, I bet they heard you!” The ironclad warrior raised the heavy warhammer with an ease betraying a far greater strength than his size would suggest, effortlessly rising it over his shoulder as he went to take position behind the other side of the entrance. “Moradin be praised, finally some action!” “You shouldn't be so eager to toss yourself into the open arms of danger, brother. The Allfather didn't bestow His blessings upon you only to have you squander them in reckless rampage.” The one that spoke was of similar stature and build as the loudest of the lot, but wearing an heavy chainmail with a tabard proudly displaying an hammer in front of an anvil on a white background, with simple golden rims. He was currently leaning against a side wall, clutching what looked like a long staff reinforced with metal and with two hammer heads at the extremities, head bowed slightly in a silent prayer. The towering man rolled his large shoulders idly, taking a firm grip of the massive, two headed axe, looking toward the corridor wearily. “Come on kid, we don't have all day. Let's get this over with and get the Hells out of here.” “It would be easier if you all shut your damn mouths for just ten bloody seconds.” The minute, young man replied in a grunt, rolling his eyes in annoyance, then raising his head to study the room's walls attentively, squinting. He could just make out the faint outlines of what he was looking for right above the chest, but the rest of the room seemed safe. He turned toward the corridor then, calculating and evaluating. Was it made on purpose? It was likely after all, the storage room had been well hidden and quite difficult to find in the first place. He lowered himself further against the floor, making sure the chest was covering him adequately, then looked at the woman. “Mae, if they aren't carrying torches let me know when they are inside the corridor, at about ten paces from the entrance.” The woman frowned, looking at him with a less than enthused expression. “What are you planning now?” “There is a trap. We are just going to use it. Everyone, make sure you stay well away from the corridor. Put off the lights and wait.” The adventurers looked to one another, the two near the entrance slowly sliding away, the lanterns they brought along dimming and finally extinguishing, leaving the small room completely in the dark. He took a few, measured breaths, calming down, crouching behind the chest, deftly moving the lockpicks inside to caress and tease the last two tumblers. Sure, there was always the possibility that he had been mistaken, that the trap was not what he envisioned but something entirely different... that would have been an issue, but one that they'd have to face if it presented itself nonetheless. After all, taking risks was the essence of the job. The minutes went by with extreme, measured slowness, with the group all but holding their collective breath, even the most raucous among them keeping to an almost perfect silence. Finally, something moved in the darkness; at first nothing more than a feeble, distant light, that slowly grew brighter as it came closer, eventually projecting deformed, oversized shadows on the wall at the end of the corridor. Soon, the first figures emerged, tall, scaled forms, vaguely reminiscing of bipedal alligators, hissing among themselves as they pointed their torches at the corridor that wasn't supposed to be there. After what could have been considered a brief, animated discussion, mostly consisting of them hissing, growling and clawing at each other, the first of the small group of lizardfolks grabbed their weapons, jagged looking pieces of metal that only vaguely resembled swords, starting down the corridor, the torches waving left and right as they advanced wearily. Of the group now none made as much as an huff, each and every one of them doing their best impression of Not Being There, even the heavily armoured bastion doing his utmost to remain perfectly still, the silence only broken by the muffled thuds of the clawed, amphibious feet clattering on the floor, and the faint crackling of the torches. At least until the woman let out the faintest whisper of “Now!”. Then, as the last two tumblers where pushed and clicked into place, the silence was ruptured by a flurry of thuds as dozens and dozens of darts where fired from small, barely visible holes on the wall behind the chest. A few flew to impact harmlessly against the walls beside the corridor, but most of them rained straight toward it, making short work of the unfortunate lizardfolks on their trajectory. As the mechanism ran out of darts, the armoured man dashed away from the wall and toward the entrance, shield held high and warhammer whirling menacingly in the other hand, bellowing a “Moradin protects!” at the top of his lung as he rushed the couple stragglers still alive, followed by the woman, slipping behind the cover of the wall to lodge a quick, deadly arrow right in the skull of the closest creature, two more already held in her hand, ready to be nocked and fired. The confrontation didn't last but a mere moments longer, as the heavy head of the hammer slammed against the other survivor's jaw, smashing the amphibian's head open with a terrible, wet crushing sound. “Well, that worked.” Mused the massive man, rolling the shaft of the axe between his hands, looking at the now corpse-ridden corridor unfazed. “Can you open it now?” Could he? He was not sure. The trap connected to the locking mechanism wasn't a trouble anymore, it would be extraordinarily unlikely for it to be able to rearm itself, and the lock was open now at any rate... but he had an hunch, and he had learned to not ignore such things. He went to try and pry the heavy lid as slowly and carefully as he could. It was barely perceptible, but there was a resistance that there shouldn't have been. He grunted, placing the lid back carefully. “There is another. Give me a minute.” Reaching for the left boot, he took out his sharpest knife, a thin and short thing. He lobbed it under the lid, slowly, carefully moving it around. Eventually he found what he was looking for; the blade coming to an halt against a tensed, thin rope. With a quick and abrupt jab he slashed it, severing without putting pressure on it. Then, holding his breath, he almost reverently lifted the lid open properly. “There. It's done.” He allowed himself to take a deep breath of reprieve. Inside the damnable chest were an assortment of well preserved papers, journals, logs and what looked like bundles of maps. And right under the lid, a large sack lodged in it with the cut rope dangling limply. He went to carefully detach the sack, making sure it wouldn't rupture or bob excessively; as he thought it seemed to contain some kind of liquid, most likely flammable or explosive, probably some variation of alchemist's fire. He inspected the point where the rope was attached, undoubtedly containing some kind of ignition device, and after ascertaining that it was suitably safe slid it into his bag. “Are you keeping it?” His towering companion scoffed, approaching the chest to look inside. “You reckon this is it?” “It could come in handy. And you tell me. Buncha papers sitting in a hella trapped reinforced chest in an hidden room of a former prison now overrun by monsters... if this isn't what the Captain is looking for, then I don't know what is. Grab 'em and let's be on our way, the sooner we are outta here the better.” Huffing he finally rose to his feet, stretching pained joints idly as his companion pocketed the contents of the accursed box. The priest approached slowly, ponderously, slamming his staff on the ground with measured steps. “Are we to be off then? Make haste, this place still swarms with the children of the swamp. Let us not tarry, lest we are bound to fight the rest ere long.” “You worry too much Garn. Steinar is done gathering everything, all that's left to do is catching up with Morn and Mae and get the Hells out of here, I am sure they are half way already. Let's go.” He patted the man's shoulder amicably, slipping behind him and making his way through the lizardfolk corpses and out of the corridor. It had been a long day thus far, the sooner they could be out, the better.

[charlottemaunqmal-blog]

Ex-Partner

One of those cloudy days, where some people stayed in fearing rain, and others risked it to go shopping. So far, there'd been no sprinkling or thunder, and the marketplace was busy but quiet, all but for a warband of charr practicing their marching.

"One, too-wuh, thuh-ree, fo-wer!" occasionally echoed its way under the market roof and there was a shuffling of claws on concrete.

Business had been slow at Charlotte's flower cart that morning. Parading charr soldiers weren't her biggest customers. She occupied herself fluffing the flowers in their little vases of water, trying to make them look their most attractive, and occasionally echoing the charr captain's orders in a mocking Big Tough Charr voice under her breath.

One young-looking charr bounded through the market, nose wiggling intensely. Her hair flopped around wildly--dreadlocked with colorful beads throughout--just like the tunic dress she wore, colorful and floppy. This creature was on a mission. She froze in the middle of the market, nose still wiggling. Eyes narrowed.

Charlotte noticed the charr--she was hard to miss--and watched her casually as she went about her work flower-primping. Any diversion was welcome on a day like this.

The young charr suddenly zeroed in on Charlotte's flower cart. She bounded forward, claws kicking up gravel as she zoomed, eyes wide with excitement.

Charlotte's eyes widen a little in alarm at the oncoming charr. She moves sideways along the wagon, towards the end where she can access the weapons she keeps strapped to the underside. Just in case.

The charr scatterscrambled to a stop just in front of the cart, panting, her little nubby teeth showing a bit. Her eyes were round, pupils circular as she looked over the flowers. "One of these smells amazing and I need to know which one it is right now!"

Charlotte's eyebrows lift slightly but otherwise she betrays no surprise. She eyes the charr up briefly and seems to come to a decision. "I specialize in fragrant flowers. Perhaps you were struck by the delphinium?" She gestures to a vase of long stalks that have small flowers growing up and down them, arranged in an attractive spectrum of blues and purples and pinks.

The charr's muzzle darted toward the delphinium, nose wiggling. She gasped. "That's it! It's even my favorite color! How much for the purple ones?"

Charlotte smiles. "Ten copper a stalk."

The charr carefully extracted five purple delphiniums with her relatively petite claws and placed them gently on the counter. "Just a sec," she said, grabbing for her wallet. "Oh," she said, more quietly, "Can you make change for a silver?"

"Of course. Would you like me to wrap these in some tissue paper?"

"That'd be good. It's shedding season and I'd hate to get fur on them before I can get them home," the charr rambled excitedly as she put a silver down. "Sorry, did that sound gross?"

"Not at all." Unperturbed, Charlotte considers the rack of tissue-paper rolls at one end of the wagon and settles on a pale green. She rips a length off and wraps the delphinium stalks in it. Then she deftly picks up the silver and replaces it with 50 copper.

"It's my first time in Lion's Arch and I've never bought from a human before. Not to sound racist! I just didn't know if you knew about shedding," she continuted to ramble, gently pawing the flowers off the counter and holding them against her chest. She paused her talking to give them a sniff, then went on. "Well actually my mom brought me here as a cub but obviously I don't remember that so it feels like my first time here."

Charlotte smiles, delighted. "I imagine that was the old Lions Arch, anyway. It's pretty much a different city altogether now."

"That's what I've heard! Everything is so... white, it hurts your eyes when you first come outside. Like when they have to readjust?" She paused again to sniff the flowers, as if she was sipping a nice drink.

"Yes, I know exactly what you mean. Interesting design choices they made." Charlotte makes a wry face to indicate that no one invited her to be on the design committee.

Plodding footsteps approached from the side.

The young charr looked up and ducked her head, smiled a little, at the approach of Fabia.

Fabia eyed the young charr, then Charlotte, jaw moving as she ground her teeth. She lifted her jaw in acknowledgement of Charlotte, then crossed her arms when she got near the cart. She looked at the flowers in the other charr's hands, dubious.

Charlotte's enjoyment fades a little with Fabia's arrival. She makes a sour face at Fabia while the charr's attention is on the customer.

The young charr customer suddenly gasped. "I'm Sooty by the way!" she said to Charlotte. "Can I get your picture with me?" she asked as she got a tiny traveling camera from her pack.

"What--?" Charlotte says, taken by surprise. She's never seen a charr tourist with a camera before. That's more of an asura thing. "Uh, yeah. Sure. I'm sure Fabia will be happy to take our picture."

Fabia rolled her eyes, appearing to bite the inside of her cheek. She plodded around the cart to take the camera from the happily bouncing Sooty.

Sooty held up the flowers and leaned near the counter to make sure Charlotte would be in the shot, grinning ears to ears.

Charlotte leans in toward the young charr and gives the camera a wide smile calculated to irk the photographer.

A bright flash and popping sound indicate a successful shot, and Fabia plonks the camera down on the flower cart to stalk off to the side again, tail twitching.

Sooty grabs up the camera. "It's not one of those fancy Rata Sum ones that can show you how the picture came out, so here's hoping!"

"However it turns out, I'm sure it will be a fine reminder of the day you came to Lions Arch and bought flowers." Charlotte rearranges the delphinium display so that there's no empty patch and throws a smirk over her shoulder at Fabia.

Fabia just twitches an ear and goes to lean on someone else's stall, currently empty, with her big meaty arms crossed.

Sooty beams at Charlotte with her nubby little teeth and puts her camera away. "Thank you, this was fun, I gotta go find my 'band now," she says as she starts to step away.

"It was a pleasure to meet you, Sooty. Come back soon!"

"I hope so!" Sooty scampers off, holding her flowers carefully, giving them several good long sniffs as she disappears into a small crowd on the other side of the market.

Fabia stalks back over and picks up a daisy to look at it, grunting disapproval at the entire exchange.

Charlotte watches her go, her brow furrowing slightly. "I hope they don't trash her flowers." She looks at Fabia. "Trying to teach her a lesson about acting too human."

Fabia quirks a brow, shrugs, scratches the base of her horns. "If they let her in their 'band, they're probably all a buncha fluffy airheads too."

Charlotte smiles. "I hope so! That, I would love to see." Her smile fades and she goes back to arranging her flowers. "And to what do I owe the pleasure of your arrival?"

Fabia rolls her eyes. "Got a letter from a little bird. It was for you, but I read it anyway." She holds out a slightly crumply letter between two claws.

"How many times have we talked about this?" Charlotte says, wiping her hands dry on her skirt. "Letters from birds are very personal to me."

"We're partners, we share everything," Fabia drawled with exactly zero intonation.

Charlotte grimaces. "I guess I should be grateful you don't have a boyfriend, then." She takes the letter from Fabia's claws and opens it.

Fabia sneers and does a sassy headbob.

Charlotte's manner changes as she reads the letter. She looks much more serious. When she looks up at Fabia again, there's no more hint of teasing.

"So... ex-partner, huh?" Fabia asks. "Sounds like a piece'a shit."

Charlotte bites back a sharp retort and composes herself. "You have no idea," she says. It could be taken multiple ways.

"Guess we better dig up his file, find out where he might'a gone," Fabia said, rubbing her whiskers.

Charlotte nods silently, looking at the letter again. After a moment she sighs and folds it up. "Well, I'm glad you're here. You can help haul the wagon back to my flat!"

Fabia sighs, the kind of sigh only a charr can manage, with a gravelly growl hidden under it.

Charlotte cranks a few levers and the racks of flower vases are withdrawn into the wagon. She pulls the brightly colored tarp down over the sides and secures it, then pulls out a sturdy leather tow-rope and holds it out to Fabia with a smile. "I'm so lucky to have a partner with superior musculature!"

Fabia wordlessly takes the tow-rope and starts moving the cart toward Charlotte's place, and despite her expression it hardly seems like any effort.

Charlotte follows a few steps behind, keeping pace with the cart wheels. She taps the folded letter against her hand, face troubled.

Her flat is just a few blocks away and it includes some kind of garage or something in which she keeps her flower wagon. By the time they reach it, Charlotte seems to have sorted through her feelings. Her expression is bland and businesslike.