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smugraccoon137 · 4 years ago

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Supergirl Season 2 episode 8 Medusa review part 2

If your curious part 1 was just my breakdown of Kara and Mon-els relationship that got way too long. But as always SPOILERS AND GAY THOUGHTS AHEAD

Me and kel get so excited when Lenas in an episode. Like practically giddy. I can’t help smiling when shes on screen honestly. And yes Katie McGrath is beautiful, but beyond that such a pretty smile and lovely voice. I’m sure ratings started to spike when she joined the cast. Okay enough about pretty girls on to the review

Tipsy fucking Alex though guys I can’t get over this mess of a person.

Alex: if I have to come out to my mom then I choose to do it drunk

Kara: no your not *yoinks beer*

Alex: wait no my coming out juice

Kara Danvers sneaky sneaker extraordinaire can totally interview Lena and find out Cadmus things without anyone knowing. The confidence this goofball has is top tier

Underrated relationship: Alex and Winn though. I really really love Winn and honestly Alex is such big sister energy to both him and Kara.

wow Lenas pretty in the interview scene. A touch of auburn hair from the sunlight really makes this shot and we never get to see her with her hair down. Fan service honestly, or maybe she heard a certain beef cake reporter was gonna come by and wanted to dazzel her.

Lena: hair up is for business. Hair down is for flirting friendship time with Kara

Poor baby thinks she falls short nooooo. Your doing your best godamn your only like 25 jesus. Kara give her a hug she needs love and affection

Kara thinks shes being so sneaky in this interview. Such a golden retriever, bad at sneakin. As soon as she toes the line Lena catches on and kicks her out. Really good acting in the scene, the subtle change in expression to show Lenas guard raising. Good job Katie.

Real quick Lena why is your office so ugly? How do you keep it clean? You spend 99% of your days in this place and its whiter than a hospital room. I hate it. Why is your desk an oval? and why does it have a hole in it? Kara cant eat you out in secret anymore damn.

OOHHHhhhh noooo the fucking gas bomb in the bar what the fuck. EVERYBODIES DEAD JESUS WHAT WAS THAT

Poor Mon-el. What happened at the bar was fucked up, and he feels like its fault when its obviously not.

Love that he and Kara are having bro time playing some Monopoly. Oh no not Kara asking if he likes her. Honestly thought these two had good chemistry in this scene. Im a sucker for dumbass not understanding certain words and phrases. So Kara having to reiterate her questions and finally being like “You don’t want to mate with me do you?” was super fun. Omegaverse vibes mfs. Although I am confused by mon-els reaction “I mean have you seen the kind of women I’ve been attracting?” I honestly don’t know what this means.

Kara internal reaction though: Oh thank god

Wow Kara really just has no regard for her own life, huh? she just opens the door and possibly contaminates herself. It’s good to want to help people, but love you gotta care about yourself too

Good reveal with the fortress of solitude. Oof Kara gonna feel like its her fault all those aliens died and mon-els sick. They do a really good job of showing Karas relationship with her parents through their holograms. She wants so badly to see them again, to talk to them. And she can, but not really. They just aren’t real.

Lena cattily to her mother: im used to celebrating holiday weekends alone at my desk

me to Kara: please invite her to thanksgiving

Okay so Lena being adopted is another interesting parallel to Kara. Also the fact that both Kara and Lena fall into there families shadows, and are left behhind or forgotten. Really interesting how Lena and Karas relationship is so similar to Clark and Lex’s for obvious purposes. Though the CW queer coding the fuck out of their relationship in Smallville really only adds to Supercorp fever. Its always been Homoerotic subtext Harold!

Me watching Lena and Lillian trade verbal blows: Wow ya’lls relationship is fucked up. Lex and Lionelle would spar and fence but you two are on another level jesus

oooooof that last line.

Lena: I know your lying

Lillian: and how could you possibly know that?

Lena: because you told me you loved me. And we both know thats not true

Who wrote this jesus fuck my heart. The PAIN.

Bonus thought Lena thinks Karas smart. Goofball beefcake sneaky sneakster who doesnt know the difference between flirting and friendship is smart she thinks. I love these idiots

Wow Kara just doesn’t wait huh? Oh cadmus is going to be at LCorp? Not on my watch. Lena’s there. I know this because I tune into her heart beat just to check on her cus she likes to work late. Don’t worry Alex it’s for friendship reasons.

That LCorp security guard got princess carried for .2 seconds. Best moment of his life.

God its like dark out. Lenas working on a holiday weekend into the night. I hate this, give her friends.

Lena looks so scared when Kara gets thrown into the giant LCorp sign

And then hurt Kara looking up at her with dread.

Kara internal: fuck don’t come out now. I came here to save you

God I love the protectiveness. Its *chefs kiss*. Hank throwing the beam at Lena and Kara even in her hurt state throwing herself in front of it. Sometimes self sacrifice is gay. But how Lena looks at her after wards like “I can’t believe I’m alive. I can’t believe she chose to save me”. Met with a gruff “Get out of here!”. mm yes this is my kind of content. Fight for me.

I was robbed an aftercare scene but I doubt it will be the last time. (*COUGHS* the “im leaving” phone call *COUGHS*)

Talking about the virus Eliza: what about Lena Luthor?

Kara: What about her?! (super defensive is also a super power maam)

Winn: Luthors can be pretty good actors

Kara: No, I looked into LENAS EYES. She doesn’t know anything about cadmus or her mother

J’onzz: Would you stake Mon-els life on that?

well I guess that really puts Lena and Mon-el right next to each other in priorities huh? Which one is more important?

Wow Lena totally has a crush on Supergirl after that. Flustered dork.

Lena: *laughs nervously* you know that doors not really an entrance

Kara: *upsettit stone face pupper*

Lena: :,)

Okay but the way Lena just says “Anything” all breathless and helpful when Kara says she needs her help. Shes crushin hard

Kara tells Lena her mother is in charge of Cadmus.

Lena: >:(

Annnd the crush is dead. That did not last long. Really love that Lena has such a different relationship with Kara vs Supergirl though, good dynamic having her reactions so different. Which I believe actually relates as a Clark and Lois parallel? Seeing as how Lois has two separate relationships with Clark and Superman.

OOf the way Lenas throat bobs with genuine sadness because who she thought Supergirl was is wrong. Shes just like the rest of them. Thinks Lena is just another crazy Luthor. It hurts

Kara: I know what its like to be disillusioned by our parents, but Im a pretty good judge of character, and you are not like your mother. She is cold and dangerous. And you are too good and too smart to follow in her path. Be your own Hero.

Wow just what a good line. They are capable of some things here and there arent they? Melissa's delivery on this is excellent. And the way Katie McGrath is able to show such depth of sadness and bitterness even from a shot of her BACK is really cool. Great acting in this scene in particular. And I can see why the “desperation to be good” is such a highlighted part of these two relationship. Its the one thing in common between Lena and Supergirl, the place where they can meet in the middle. And the way Lena looks after her as she leaves! AHHH thats the good shit, the pining

Okay big Mon-el scene in coming so if you dont want to hear my ranting skip over this part.

Funny how as soon as Kara has this big impactful scene with Lena full of tension and emotion the writers were like: shit we almost forgot Mon-els dying.

Kara: *staring sadly back into Lenas office kind of wanting to go back in*

Writers: *cough cough* KARA He’s DYINGGGG

Kara: Oh shit right. Mon-el Oh no. My *looks at poorly written handwriting on her palm* romantic interest?

Wow Mon-el looks like shit, poor guy. Someone swaddle this pillow princess and get him some soup.

Heres a question. Kara is visibly upset that Mon-el is dying. Is it because she’s sad that the guy shes likes is dying. Because her friend is dying? Because her father created the virus thats killing him (what the writers want us to think)? Or because no matter what Kara does the people she loves keep falling through the cracks and shes helpless to stop it?

Her parents. Clark. Her adoptive father. Now Lena. Now Mon-el. Why can’t she ever do anything? Why is it always her fault? This poor kid has some deep seeded abandonment issues

Mon-el: you know you look beautiful with the weight of all these worlds on your shoulders.

I do remember my reaction here, cus I thought this was a weird line. A line that was obviously meant to be romantic and complimentary, but it felt unsettled in my stomach. Coming back and watching the scene it sits even more uncomfortably there. He obviously means well, but this line is kind of just shitty. Its a very selfish and unthoughtful thing to say to someone.

Kara’s entire fucking life has revolved around other people and making sure they are happy and taken care of. But having “failed” at such a young age to do the impossible things asked of her (carrying on Kryptons legacy, raising Clark) she overcompensates. Any normal person would just make their life revolve around their family and friends, not healthy but it works. But Kara feels responsibility over an entire world of lost people and lives. So the amount she overcompensates is ungodly. She does have the weight of worlds on her shoulders. This is not a joke or hyperbole. Its just her life. And thats so fucking shitty. And to have someone actually see that and acknowledge it. To make it a reality so to speak. Then to have them say “yeah you look good like this” while you’re a shaking Atlas being crushed. It is just a little too much isn’t it? That pain to have someone see you finally, and then completely miss the point. For them to go “oh wow your so strong. your so brave” instead of “let me help you. you shouldn’t have to do this at all, forget by yourself. But now I am here”.

I imagine this was the scene that crowned my darling himbo boy Mon-Hell? Which is so unfortunate. I hope Im wrong, but I feel that his character might just end up a big missed opportunity

I want everyone to know that me and Kel screamed through the entire enxt few seconds of the scene. We knew the kiss was coming from how they were building it up. But god was it painful, especially for it to be delivered after a line like THAT. But yeah very loud angry screaming

Also not to be that bitch but Kara and Mon-els scene was a total of 1:53 RT, and Kara and Lenas ran at a 1:57 RT. Just sayin...

No Lena don’t be evil thats too sexy...

Okay but the way that Lena just tricks Lillian is so good. Shes so clever. And added bonus she makes her ask for her help, which is nice actually. Lillian's obvious vice is weakness and that is often shown in embarrassment. A woman like this asking for help borders that line of weakness and its nice to see on such a dislikable character. Lena didn’t just get what she wanted she got a point over her mother.

Lena looks good in the purple coat. Repeat she is pretty

Love the mental chess game between Lena and Lillian. Lena offering help right off the bat and giving her the isotope free of charge. And then Lillian making Lena launch the virus to prove herself. Good stuff.

Kara appears: don’t do it Lena!

Lena: why not? im a luthor

Okay so obviously Lena switched the Isotope and the Virus won’t work. But thats what makes this line so perfect. Throwing it back in Supergirls face. Like “Yeah, Im a luthor. And Ill show you what im capable of.” But instead of mass death and destruction Lena saves the day. She saved thousands of lives, and its because shes a Luthor that she was able to do that. Really nice way to full circle that

Wow Lillian really just starts booking it without Lena, huh? bitch

I really love the scene of the virus falling all around National City. The choice of an orangish snow falling was a really really good one. Paired with some excellent music for the mid season finale.

Its sad but I do love Hank just being ready and at peace with death. Im sure he misses his wife and daughters.

Okay but Lena calling the cops is tea. Send your mom to jail honey.

So we’re really not gonna talk about how Lena saved everyones asses? Like don’t you think Supergirl would want to talk to the woman that A) kind of tricked her, and B) saved National City. Thats just what makes sense??? But no we’re going to ignore that the DEO is a kind of shit at their job sometimes. And that the woman that they were accusing of having a part to play in all the xenophobic shit is the one who did their job. BY HER SELF.

Okay rant over. This was a long one review dear god. Really really good episode though. I enjoyed rewatching all the scenes even if it was a mixed bag of feelings. Thanks for reading hope you enjoyed all the screaming!

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ecotone99 · 5 years ago

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[MF] The Anniversary: Midnight

(This is a sequel nobody asked for from a short story I posted here.)

Years of training had conditioned me to never let go of my blade. I’ve fallen off horseback, taken arrows to the chest and arms, and endured the shock of cannon fire without the grip on my blade even weakening. That changed tonight, with a single blindside from a presumably drunk—or more likely possessed—driver. It meant that either I was underestimating the force of a car crash or I was getting sloppy. Not that any of that mattered now, as my sword was unsheathed in my hands as I stood upon my overturned vehicle. It was uneven footing, but it gave me a vantage point into the cool darkness of the night.

I spotted the other driver’s vehicle about a dozen feet ahead of me. Like my car, his created an artificial clearing in the underbrush of unkempt grass. Unlike my car, no person came crawling out and I didn’t bother checking. He had a bad habit collecting souls right after he got done using them. My mind quickly flashed to the poor girls in the elevator, or Mr. Johnson at the receptionist’s desk. More casualties brought on by my hubris. I clenched my blade and brought my focus back to myself. Something had changed around me. No nighttime critters peeped. No cars raced by on the nearby highway.

One sound grabbed my attention. As I was looking out on the highway, I heard a faint ‘popping’ in the distance. I investigated with my eyes rather than my legs and saw every streetlight in the distance systematically being put out. I mentally prepared for a fight in the dark by closing my eyes, only to find myself still illuminated. I looked up to see every streetlight but the one I was directly under had been extinguished. My face fell. Always the theatrics with him. I looked forward as the other car’s, and my own, headlights shut off. Silence became as pervasive as the darkness. With nothing more to do, I waited.

Another noise. I didn’t jerk nearly as much as I had before, but it elicited my curiosity. It was the faint fall of footsteps, as if on dead grass. The crunch slowly escalated in sound and tempo, until my opponent finally revealed himself.

He could never stick with a look; when we first met, he looked like a farmer with a skull for a head, complete with a straw hat and rags for clothes. In the 1350s, he looked a plague doctor with rats bustling under his robes. 300 years later, he ditched pretending to be human for his pristine white skeleton with the occasional black cloth. Today, a black jean pant leg emerged from the shadows. I could see a silver chain dangling from the pockets as a black sweatshirt topped off the figure. His names were as numerous as his forms; I’ve heard everything from ‘Grim Reaper’ to ‘Azrael’. Yet, his true name was a massive sign on his emo-punk hoodie. Death.

Two things were always consistent; he never had a face and always bore his scythe. He was fully in the light now, staring at me with a mischievous grin. Now knowing where my opponent was, I cautiously slid off the car and onto level ground.

“I like your choice of arena this year,” he joked, “much better than that house party a few years ago.”

“I wish I could say the same about your outfit, but I don’t.”

“What? It’s not like I could choose what the kid was wearing when he died.”

Typical; every attempt I made to get back at him always blew up in my face. But a child? He was coming at me with a child’s body. My rage took over and I decided to rush him then and there.

“Finally! It’s not like we’re here to chit-chat.”

He dodged the first strike with a simple back step and responded by swinging his scythe in turn. I jumped the arcing blade while twisting backwards, creating more distance between us. Ours was a dangerous dance; one strike on either side would immediately decide the victor. Death’s physical form was far frailer than one would expect, until you consider that a creature with the ability to instantly kill and animal with a touch wouldn’t need much defense. Only Death could come back after I slayed him; an ability I sorely lacked.

Thus we danced. Apart from a few ambitious attacks followed by desperate escapes, the battle mostly consisted of me staying at the bare reach of his scythe. Our weapons of choice only added to the dance. The scythe has far more reach than my sword, but as soon as I can get inside its hook, he has no defenses. That’s what I tried to do now, by parrying his blade upward in an attempt to get under it. But Death was faster. He backpedaled and twisted the scythe to point downward before slamming the blade like a lever. I realized his intentions moments before they came to fruition and dived to my right. I rolled in the grass, and in a last ditch effort, I threw my sword at the pale figure. He was extending the fight on purpose in order to drain my stamina, so I needed to end this as soon as I could.

I failed. I deflated as I saw the reaper deflect the tip of my blade with the shaft of his scythe. He crouched low and extended his scythe outward, before pouncing on me.

“After all these years! You got cocky! And now it’ll cost ya!”

He was airborne now, and racing towards me with masochistic intent. Closer and closer, I felt my heart racing. The very thing I drove off and feared for centuries was finally coming for me. That had been my plan, and it wasn’t supposed to end this way.

And it didn’t.

Death crumpled to the ground before my feet. One of my knives, which I retrieved stealthily from my coat while he prepared his lunge, was embedded in his skull. It was been my plan all along; bait him into a false sense of security by throwing my weapon, only to get him with a small throwing knife. Despite my rigorous planning, that lunge, to say it didn’t terrify me to the point of almost losing my nerve would be nothing short of a lie. But now I stood victorious once again in a contest I lost count of. I looked down at the skeleton, its body and clothes fading.

“Well, you got me. Whoo who! That was fun! Let’s do it again next year!”

“Or not.”

The disintegration instantly ceased. Death, now only a skull and upper arm, stared at me in confusion.

“What? You want to die now?”

“Well, no—”

“Well that’s how the deal works. You beat me in a duel once a year and if you win you get another year to live. If you refuse to fight me then that’s it. You’re done.”

“It’s just, I wanted to propose a different game. With higher stakes.”

The disintegration reversed. Faster than it had been going otherwise. In moments his body was fully formed and he rose back to his feet, staring at me with a different caliber of intensity. His whole atmosphere was different. More serious, more composed. More deadly.

“Higher stakes than your mortal soul?”

“We’ve been doing this a while Death. I’m sick of it. I want to end it with a bigger game, and win or lose, you get my soul in the end.”

Death stroked his chin and carefully considered. He looked at me with newfound interest, and nodded his head for me to continue.

“I propose a 24 hour duel. From this moment on, for 24 hours, you are allowed to do whatever is in your power to kill me, except outright reaping my soul. Possess who you want, cause as much destruction as you dare, and if you kill me, I’m yours. But if I survive, then no more duels. I want to live a normal life without you stalking me on the anniversary of my death.”

“So if you win, you want to just live? No immortality? Just as a man?”

“Yes.”

I could tell he was mulling it over in his head. He paced a bit, cocking his head back and forth. He looked at me one last time and extended his hand towards me, in an effort to shake my hand. I responded my narrowing my eyes and raising an eyebrow. Then he threw his head back and let out an ear-cracking chuckle.

“I thought it would be that easy! You got yourself a deal!”

He laughed some more, before he disappeared with a blast, I was knocked off my feet, wondering now if this was as good an idea as I thought. I was breathing heavy, but another noise took over the night. Somewhere in the distance, a bell tolled once.

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ecotone99 · 6 years ago

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[MF] Proper Burial

"Fuck. Wait, I just had it. Okay. Okay, there. There."

With one final tug, the cross was complete. Arcaid sat back, admiring his little product. A cross made out of one plank of wood, mercilessly broken in half over his knee before being tied together with a length of rough rope. On the horizontal piece, a name crudely carved: TRYSTIAN. A name so familiar, and yet Arcaid could not remember the last time he heard it from anywhere but his own lips. A name he cried to the winds, whispered to the pillows. A name so special, so close yet, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't reach it.

Arcaid huffed and, with unnecessary caution, shoved the stake into the ground. After but a moment of fidgeting--straightening, making certain that it was perfect--he finally relaxed, sitting back on his knees. He examined his handiwork, a small smile on his lips. "There. That's better. Sorry, I know it's nothing fancy. I just don't know if you have anything like this back in France. I wanted to make sure there was something for you."

"But you're the reason there's nothing for him."

"You never gave him the burial he deserves."

"Do you think this would fix anything?"

Arcaid wiped a few tears from his eyes and sighed deeply. "I know this isn't, uh, good. But I just--" he shook his head. "Mom and Dad would have liked you to be buried with them, right? But I can't go back. Not yet. So. You get to be stuck with me for a while." A bitter laugh. "Oh. And, look, I brought you flowers, too."

Unceremoniously, Arcaid dumped the flowers on the ground in front of the cross. Then, after a beat passed, he scrambled to arrange them more nicely. "Sorry," he muttered, biting his lip worriedly. "I picked your favorite, though. You always loved hydrangeas. I hope lots of butterflies come to see these. Maybe I should plant them, instead of just throwing them down like this."

"Will that fix anything?"

"You can't just plant flowers and hope that he forgives you."

"He doesn't, you know. He never will forgive you."

"The only way you'll get forgiveness is if you kill yourself."

"Worthless scum."

Arcaid blinked away more tears. How much was he crying, exactly? "You probably think I look so pathetic." He shoved his hand into the dirt, taking a hefty handful and placing a few of those beautiful hydrangeas into the hole. After making sure they were stable and perfectly in place, he repeated the process with the rest of the flowers. "I, uh, I hope this works. It would be a shame if they didn't make it..."

"They won't. You ruin everything you touch. These flowers will be no different. They will die. Just like everything else you care about."

Wow. It wasn't every day that one of his friends spoke that much. Normally they worked in tandem. Arcaid sniveled pathetically, examining the purple and blue clusters that made up his brother's favorite flower. "I-it's stupid, but I wish I could see your face one more time," he muttered, scrubbing at one eye with the palm of his hand.

"Which one?" Someone asked. Arcaid realized he had ground dirt into his eye.

"The face you see whenever you look in the mirror?" Another queried. His eye stung. He blinked rapidly.

"Or the one you tore apart with your bare hands?" The last one was vicious, scathing. The tears helped clean the dirt away. The voice seemed to be accusing him of a crime he didn't commit.

"But you did commit," they chanted, "you're the reason he's in the ground."

Arcaid did his best to ignore the voices, no matter how hard it was. He couldn't let them get to him. Trystian wouldn't want him to listen. If he was here, he'd sit down next to Arcaid, wrap his arms around him, and tell the voices to go away. And it would work. Maybe he could do the same?

"Go away," he whimpered, inwardly cursing himself for not sounding as stern as Trystian would. "Just leave me alone, please. I don't want to listen to you."

"Oh, boo hoo."

"Is the poor baby crying?"

"He is! He is crying! Look how pathetic!"

Arcaid found himself gripping harshly at his hair, nearly tearing the black locks from his scalp. This was awful. His friends were always pretty rough with him, but today, for some reason, they were especially cruel. He leaned back, falling on his rear, and he curled into a ball; an attempt to protect himself from the voices that he couldn't protect himself from. "I'm sorry," he sobbed, one hand continuing to pull on his hair. The other balled into a fist and began punching at his temple. "I'm sorry, Trystian. You don't have to forgive me! I don't deserve it! B-but I--" he broke down, slamming his head onto his knees and weeping bitterly against them. "I wanted to-- you needed-- I-- fuck--" he blubbered and sniveled, hugging his knees tightly and curling further into himself. The voices were talking, but he didn't bother listening. It was all cruel, scathing words; threats to him, assumptions on how his twin felt of him, all wrong. They were wrong. It wasn't fair. They weren't telling the truth. The only person that did was--

"Trystian!" Arcaid's head snapped up, eyes frenzied as he stared at the cross before him. He shifted, crawling closer to the pseudo grave. He was careful, unconsciously or not, to steer clear of the hydrangeas. Nothing would be worse than ruining Trystian's favorite flower. He reached out, grabbing the cross. The splintered wood dug into his skin, but he didn't care enough to do anything about it. "Trystian, you always told the truth! You would never lie to me! Tell me! Tell me that I deserve your forgiveness! Tell me that you don't hate me! Tell me!! Please--! Tell me!"

Arcaid shook the cross, disturbing the hole it sat in and causing it to droop to the side when he finally released it. He stared it down, trembling as he waited for the object to give him the answers he searched for. Nothing. Silence. Save for, of course, his friends whispering to him. He waited, with bated breath, for his brother to tell him everything he ever wanted. He had to. He stared at the hydrangeas. They stared back. He stared harder. They were very pretty. Not much help. He noted that a few of his tears were hitting the petals.

Wait. He wasn't looming directly over them. Was he? One quick look and, sure enough, he wasn't. What was going on then? The drops on the top of his head answered that for him. It was raining. How long had it been raining? The forecast never called for rain. He remembered that much. He picked a beautiful day to create his brother's grave. So why was it raining?

A gust of wind blew against him. It was cold. Why the fuck was it cold? It was August. The breeze brushed against his cheek, and if he was any crazier, he would have thought it was like a kiss. Even though it was cold, when it brushed by him, he felt his chest get all warm and fuzzy. "What the fuck--?" He called, startled, as he began to look around, frantic for an answer. He remembered things from online. Things about ghosts. How their presence would always feel like cold air or a chilling wind whenever they passed through a living being. Now, he wasn't a wild believer in ghosts, but he always fancied the thought of his family--his mom. His dad. His big brother. He fancied the thought of them being spirits that stuck around. His friends fancied the thought of them being spirits that he selfishly took away from the world; spirits that were filled with hatred toward Arcaid. Spirits that couldn't move on to the paradise they deserved.

If all that shit about ghosts being cold air held and truth, then there was only one logical explanation to what he felt. Someone was here with him. But who? Arcaid guessed he could answer that for himself if he just took a guess. Or a few guesses. He only had three guesses, anyway.

"Mom?" Nothing. The air was still. There was silence all around him. Well, except in his head, but there always seemed to be a buzzing in his brain; from his friends or otherwise. Two more guesses.

"Dad?" Still nothing. One last shot.

"T--" He swallowed thickly, mouth suddenly dry. The air felt almost electric, like a storm was brewing. Yet, somehow, at the same time, the electricity was calming. He didn't know what that meant. He didn't hear anything about ghosts and electricity. Still, he had one more guess. "Trystian?"

The breeze hit Arcaid again. He felt that warmth in his chest; stronger, and he felt happy all of a sudden. A weight lifted off of his shoulders. He felt relieved. Relaxed, for the first time in years. His friends even stopped yammering away. Who knew how long that would last, but it was glorious.

Arcaid looked to the hydrangeas again. They shone with raindrops that stuck to their petals, and swayed gently in the breeze. The rain had stopped completely. The cross looked a little less of a mess. It looked humble, as though someone took their time to put it into the ground, just right. It looked perfect, even if it drooped a little. A perfect grave to remember a perfect brother. Arcaid reached out, caressing a bundle of petals with slow, easy strokes. They were soft. A little wet, but he didn't mind. They needed the shower to help them grow. Trystian probably knew that. He would want his favorite flower to thrive, after all.

"Thank you. Is it okay if I stay out here with you a little longer?"

He knew it would be okay. It always was okay whenever Trystian was near.

Thanks for reading! I wasn't sure if this was Realistic Fiction or not, since there were mentions and references to ghosts and stuff. Let me know if it works for RF though!!

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