#rather than a joyful discovery

[embossross]

I saw that you mentioned reading poetry, do you mind sharing any recs/suggestions?

oh this is tough because i'm not a good poetry reader. i think my education in it was very poor, so i'm trying to dip my toe in and having mixed results.

i do better with poets writing things that aren't strictly poetry, so i can give a mix:

Golden Ax by Rio Cortez - new collection i'm reading right now that has some longer line poetry that i find pretty powerful

Bluets by Maggie Nelson - an old favorite all about a love affair with the color blue. i found the thematic through line helped anchor me in this collection.

Priestdaddy by Patricia Lockwood - this is a memoir, but you can tell she's a poet by trade long before she tells you. very funny look at the weirdness of the catholic church.

Pale Fire by Vladimir Nabokov - this is a strange mystery/experiment that unravels around a poem by an imaginary poet and its post-humous commentary. the poem is written out entirely and pretty fun to interpret (not easy but fun!)

Autobiography of Red by Anne Carson - novel in verse; modern retelling of Greek myth, crazy beautiful prose

Invisible Cities by Italo Calvino - a novel that is ridiculously beautiful in its prose as well

Also, i really love stuff that read aloud has a certain musicality, so tender buttons by gertrude stein (actual poem) and any of sandra cisnero's novels, especially if you can properly pronounce the spanish, because it tastes so sumptuous on the tongue.

And then, i don't know if these are good, but i'm planning to read the poems of adrienne rich, joy harjo, and rainer maria rilke soon.

[yurious-george]

hatchling in fanfic: constantly dying and being the only one who knows the truth is so traumatic :( angst angst

hatchling in canon: my mission parameters are “have fun out there” and ive got infinite retries baby!!!!!!!!! (slingshots themselves into the sun repeatedly)

[pinchinschlimbah]

On "Coming Out" and Noel Fielding

I mentioned forever ago that I had this post in mind and then never got around to it, but now with the new interview quote I was yelling about recently it feels like a particularly good time to get it out of my brain and onto the page! tl;dr: musings on the concept of "coming out" as it has evolved over time, whether it's something that should continue to be necessary or expected of queer people, and why Noel is particularly inspirational to me in that regard since this is, after all, my brainrot blog. This may be extremely long and a bit disjointed but I hope some of y'all will enjoy it!

So a while ago myself and several friends were discussing the concept of coming out. All of us are some flavor of queer both in gender and orientation, but each is in a different place along their self discovery and identity journey, with some being long since out and proud, and others just starting to dip their toes into exploration past the expected cishet.

This discussion actually was prompted by a different discussion about Noel, spurred by comments we'd come across slamming him as being homophobic/transphobic on Bakeoff for making comments suggesting he has romantic or sexual attraction towards Paul, referring to himself with female-centric terms, playing female characters in the skits, and a particular moment where he brings up Old Gregg while talking to KimJoy and says "he was a sea transsexual....quite a demanding role for me" while laughing to indicate that that last part was said in jest. Hey fellas, is it homophobic/transphobic to be a little bit gay and trans? This got us talking about how the current culture of queer identity has evolved to the point where "coming out" feels more like something the public feels they're owed in order for them to view one's expression as valid, rather than its original purpose as something one does for themself in order to live most authentically. I don't think I need to go into detail about how many artists have been harassed by their "fans" into coming out before they were ready because people wouldn't accept the validity of that person's work without knowing exactly how that person identified, there've been plenty of articles and video essays and better written tumblr posts about that, but it's definitely a concerning trend. It can be particularly dangerous when it comes to people who aren't feeling confident or safe enough to come out, who end up being criticized and shunned by the queer community as being somehow problematic for not being able to fully articulate to a group of strangers the ways in which they're experiencing their identity. In this situation, the people who are struggling the most end up with the least support. Forcing people to either declare an identity or get out just leads to more people staying closeted out of fear of doing it "wrong" and never getting the chance to explore the most authentic and joyful versions of themselves, or even worse, feeling the need to out themselves before they're in a safe place to do so and suffering the resulting consequences. Questioning or cautious people deserve space in the community to experiment even if they haven't yet or maybe never will come out! My high school's Gay Straight Alliance was comprised entirely of "straight allies" when I was there. There was not a single "out" person in the school at the time. Nearly all of us in the GSA ended up being some flavor of queer or trans years later after graduation. But whether it was intentional closeting or just feeling an innate affinity towards something we couldn't quite pinpoint at the time, we all knew we belonged there and made that space for ourselves and others like us. Back when "coming out" first became a concept in the public consciousness, it was during a time where cishet identity was not just considered the default, but the only option. By coming out, queer people were giving genuinely revolutionary representation for themselves and others like them by telling the world that, as the old saying goes, we're here, we're queer, get used to it! Nowadays, we're lucky to live in a culture that is much more cognizant of queer identities being a thing, so in many cases coming out has become less about having to explain to those around you the basic concept of queerness existing, and moreso about which specific identity you fall under, and that's where things get messy.

My friends and I shared our own thoughts and experiences. One is currently identifying as "unlabeled" because they haven't found a term that feels correct yet, and therefore hasn't come out because they wouldn't know what to say. One spoke about how when they first came out they were much more insistent on what terms or pronouns people used for them but as time has gone on they've grown to find joy in being inscrutable and letting others wonder what they're perceiving. One expressed that given the state of the world they've been retreating somewhat back into the closet for safety reasons rather than being super outward with their queerness like they used to and is working on learning to embrace those parts of themself again. One said they felt like they'd already been existing as queer and expressing that queerness "before I even had the terms to come out to myself" and is now working on catching up on the conscious end of figuring out what's what. I myself never really had an official "coming out", I just became increasingly visually/socially/vocally queer as I became more and more confident in who I was and what I wanted to be and who I had on some level always been, and decided if people didn't get the hint that's their own problem. I came into consciousness of my queerness during the early 2010s original tumblr MOGAI microlabel boom, where there was a ton of focus on figuring out the hyper specific identity labels that exactly described what you were experiencing. I did a lot of digging and soul searching and experienced a lot of unnecessary stress trying and failing to find my perfect labels and landed on clumsy terms like "full time drag queen" because it was the closest I could get to what I was feeling about my gender, only to be told it was problematic for me to call myself that as an AFAB person because drag "belongs to cis gay men" (don't get me started on that statement, that's a whole other essay lol) It was a real wake up call once I distanced from these aggressively labeled and segmented online spaces and made my way into real world queer communities where I was relieved to find that in fact no one there asks to check your membership card before letting you in, if you feel like you belong there you're welcome no questions asked.

I had other people in these communities referring to me as "queer" and "fag" and "gay" and "queen" before I felt comfortable doing so myself based on online Discourse I'd experienced over who is Allowed to use certain terms, and having these community leaders I respected recognizing those things in me and welcoming me in like that gave me the confidence to really find my own footing in ways that attempting to find my exact correct identity label so that I could officially proclaim it never did. Once I could answer the question of what I was with a shrug and "queer I guess!" things became so much easier. Microlabels can be incredibly helpful and liberating for some, don't get me wrong if it works for you that's great, but let's not pretend that everyone is going to have the same experiences.

So anyway, back to Noel. Noel has never, to my knowledge, ever had any sort of official “coming out” or explicitly referred to himself as queer. So I know there are people out there who will disagree with me considering him to be queer. But so much of what he’s said and done throughout his several decades long career has indicated to me that this is clearly someone of queer experience navigating the world as such, and just as the queers in my local community welcomed me as one of them before I knew to do it myself, I extend that welcome forward. 

Let’s take a look at some of the facts. In the public span of his career, Noel has.....(in no particular order, also if anyone wants to add additional instances of note in the reblogs or comments please feel free, this is by no means a fully comprehensive list) -repeatedly called himself "the woman of the Boosh" or Julian's/Howard's "wife" in ways that suggest that's how he actually felt about it rather than it just being a punchline that he was mistaken for female in the show [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] -referred to himself at the GQ "Man of the Year" awards as "never been a man" and "a sort of girl, he/she" -been referred to by Sandi Toksvig as being "on the cusp" in regards to gender, to which he reacts with amusement and acceptance -consistently expressed excitement and appreciation when others refer to him with feminine terms or say he looks like a girl [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] -said "I love being a man-woman, it's much more interesting than being one or the other" and expressed that the loved shooting the Boosh Electro episode for this reason -referred to Vince Noir (a character who he's been pretty open about being based on himself) as "wasn't seemingly one gender or the other" -expressed that he felt most free and happy when presenting femininely [2] -had Julian, one of the people closest to him, express that Noel and Sandi (an out lesbian) may have "real sexual chemistry" because Noel is "all over the shop, he's a different sex" -used the "Confuser" line of "Is it a boy? Is it a girl? I'm not sure I mind" to refer to himself rather than Vince, and express that he's had to work to find new ways to feel as androgynous as he'd like now that he's older -referred to himself as a lesbian [2] -said that he "sometimes looks in the mirror and sees a woman", in the same interview that Julian implies that Noel is in fact a girl -referred to himself as a "girl/boy" -consistently referred to himself with feminine terms on panel shows and bakeoff -made a joke on bakeoff about not being a testosterone-based person -responded positively when asked about the ways Boosh had influenced queer and nonbinary youth -has said he's "quite obsessed with the man/woman mixup thing" -has said if he was an animal he'd want to be a seahorse because the males get pregnant -Had Lee Mack, who Noel used to live with, refer to him as "the little transsexual one, yeah I think she's fantastic" in a Boosh documentary and "a young lady who came out here happy to be herself" in response to Noel's Wuthering Heights drag performance -had his own mother refer to him as "the daughter I always wanted" -described his own appearance as that of a "transsexual witch" and when an interviewer attempted to make fun of him for calling himself "a transgender witch" by showing Noel a drawing the interviewer clearly found repulsive, Noel responded that the interviewer was "holding up a mirror" and called the image his passport photo

And I'm not even going to bother citing sources on the countless times he's made comments suggesting romantic or sexual attraction towards men. Literally just watch any non-character appearance he's ever done, it's kind of his whole thing??? Not to mention his penchant for picking up explicitly queer and gnc character roles, and also just [gestures vaguely to everything Noel and Julian have said about each other suggesting romantic and sexual tension between them and how they used their characters as an excuse to explore those feelings in a less scary way, again that could be a whole other essay on its own but ooh boy] I also think there's something interesting to explore in the idea of Noel repeatedly referring to his appearance as transgender or transsexual rather than identifying himself as such- at what point does the appearance of something become reality?

It all begs the question- is it even a joke anymore if it's that consistent? Either it's not a joke and it's an authentic expression of his real feelings and experiences, or he for some reason really really wants everyone to believe that he's queer when he's not, with this behavior spanning back to a time before the concept of queerbaiting was on anyone's minds and when being publicly queer could mean the end of your career. Which scenario do you think is more likely? And, does someone who’s been conducting themself like this for their entire career really NEED to come out? Honestly, I find this level of simultaneous authenticity and inscrutability aspirational.

In this Velvet Onion interview from 2012, Noel compares his penchant for dresses to both Grayson Perry and Eddie Izzard. This is interesting because those two people represent pretty opposite intentions behind their presentation- Grayson identifies solidly as cis male, and for him the shock value of crossdressing is the point, saying “I signed up for a gender and I want them to be very clearly delineated so I know I’m dressing up in the wrong clothes.” This doesn't seem particularly in line with where Noel is coming from given him famously referring to himself as "the Confuser" and stating in that same Velvet Onion interview that he "never even bothered giving it a label, I never went oh I'm a transvestite, I just went yeah if I fancy wearing a dress I do, never really thought about it really" Eddie on the other hand has famously said "They're not women's clothes. They're my clothes, I bought them." indicating that they were a genuine part of her authentic expression rather than a crossdressing costume, and has subsequently over the years identified more and more solidly as transfemme. I find Eddie's trajectory particularly fascinating because it's been so non-linear. In the 90s when the language for transness was much less public knowledge, she referred to herself consistently as a transvestite- a cishet man who enjoyed dressing as a woman, as well as using terms like "male tomboy" and "male lesbian" and "a full boy plus extra girl". Despite doing most of her standup shows in femme looks, most of her acting jobs were male-presenting, and there was a period of time in the 2010s where she dropped the femme presentation entirely in an attempt to be taken more seriously as the "crossdressing" was seen by many as a gimmick. Swinging back around more recently, Eddie has been explicitly identifying as genderfluid and transfemme, and in recent years has made the decision to "be based in girl mode from now on", and use primarily she/her pronouns. Since this announcement, in her trans advocacy work Eddie has described herself as being "out" as trans since the 1980s despite all of the above. She always knew who she was, it's just she's gotten access to more accurate terms over time to describe what she was experiencing, as well as feeling more safe to do so the more that transness became a known and accepted concept in the public eye.

The interview I mentioned at the very start of this post isn't really a coming out from Noel. And I don't think we'll ever really get one from him. In my opinion Noel has spent the past several decades conducting himself as someone who is in fact already out- it’s pretty clear Noel knows and is proud of who he is regardless of how he chooses to describe that identity. At this point, making some sort of official statement would just be for the benefit of others looking for clarification on their own perception of him and people who want to be able to put him in one box or another, and that’s not what coming out should be. The statement in the new interview is not "I am genderfluid", its "I've always been genderfluid", simply putting an accurate name to what's always been publicly visibly true now that he's got the terms to do so.

[ticklishraspberries]

Marital Bliss (Catherine/Peter)

Summary: Catherine spends an early morning with her husband, making a fun discovery. (My first fic for The Great!! I love this show and this pairing. If anyone has any prompts for this fandom, please send them my way!! Anyway, hope you enjoy!)

Intimacy with Peter is entirely different now.

Catherine had spent the first year of their marriage in disgust and contempt of him, only touching him when it was absolutely necessary, mostly in the name of making an heir. She would stare blankly at the ceiling and ponder her plans to overthrow him while he laid with her. It was nothing special, no love or connection, no pleasure.

Leo had given her that, the laughter and joy of another person’s touch, and now, he was gone. Strangely, overthrowing Peter has brought them closer than ever. He should technically be dead, or at the very least, imprisoned entirely, and despising her. Instead, he’s grown rather fond of her, and to her surprise and dismay, the feeling is becoming mutual.

There are nights, like the one before, where she will come to his apartments with false nonchalance, secretly hoping he will beg her to stay. Last night, he had done exactly that, and she had done so, and now, the sun has risen and is shining through the windows, and Catherine is awoken by the light dancing in front of her eyelids. She rolls onto her side and snuggles up to her husband’s side, pleased to feel his warmth and steady breathing against her.

He had fallen asleep in nothing but a pair of sleep pants, and the string of his mother’s pearls around his neck. She plays with the necklace absent-mindedly, enjoying the peace, the stillness of the moment. Her fingers brush his skin as she does so, and she’s surprised when the simple touch makes him stir.

“Good morning,” she whispers, pressing a kiss to his temple.

“Morning,” he mutters in response, eyes still squeezed shut.

She plays with the pearls closest to his neck, and a smile forms on his lips.

“Tickles,” he says, barely a whisper, and clearly not processing what he has just admitted.

She suddenly feels much more awake. “You’re ticklish?” she asks, delighted.

He seems more awake now, too, realizing the gravity of what he’s said, and the obvious, impending consequence. “...No?” he replies, unconvincingly.

Catherine’s lips curl into a mischievous smile, and she watches with glee as Peter begins to shift nervously, like he’s going to make a break for it. She obviously isn’t going to let that happen, so she makes a quick move to straddle his waist, the skirts of her gown splayed across his bedsheets. “No? Then surely you won’t mind if I test the theory.”

“Catherine,” he says, very slowly, like he’s talking to a wild animal with its teeth bared. “Don’t you dare.”

“Last time I checked, I was the one in charge here,” she replies. “So I think I will dare.”

Her knees hug Peter’s hips, keeping him still as she brings her hands to his bare sides, her touch gentle, light as a feather at first, trailing from his top rib to the waist of his pants and back upwards again. Goosebumps spread over his flesh, and he sucks in a breath, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Hm, perhaps you require a firmer touch to get you laughing?” she suggests, grinning down at him.

He shakes his head, determined to keep his mouth shut.

She, of course, decides to try it anyway, and increases the pace and pressure of her touch, scribbling into the slight curve of his side, and the dam breaks instantly.

High-pitched giggles tumble from her husband’s mouth, and Catherine beams. It’s the most adorable thing she has ever seen, other than her own child’s smiling face.

“I could have made you surrender your crown with so much more ease if I’d know this sooner,” she said.

Peter can only laugh in response. It’s a lovely sound. She has heard him laugh many times, at a stupid jape, or at her expense, but this is different. It is a young, joyful sound that lacks any cruelty.

It is moments like this that show her how truly he has changed. He does not swear, swing out at her, or even protest. He either truly loves her enough to let her get away with this, or…He’s having fun. She can’t quite tell which. Honestly, Peter is such an odd person, she wouldn’t be surprised if he was enjoying this. He craves touch in any form, honestly.

Catherine bends to press a kiss to his collarbone, and while it's never gotten such a response before, it makes him scrunch up and laugh even harder.

Her heart soars. “You are adorable,” she says, muttering it almost to herself.

“Adorable?” Peter giggles out. “No, I’m—handsome, dashing, sexy, fuckable—Wait, not there!”

Catherine scratches her fingers at the small patch of skin beneath her navel and above the waist of his pants. It’s clearly a sensitive spot that makes him grab her wrists, but Catherine keeps scribbling, giggling along with him.

“Catherine, darling, please—” Peter gasps.

She takes the hint and stops, pressing another kiss to his jaw as he tries to catch his breath.

“Sorry. I got carried away,” she says.

Peter smiles. “As you often do in positions of power.”

She feigns an offended expression and pokes his side, making him jolt before flipping their position, leaving her on the bed beneath him. “And yet, you like to be under me just as much. It’s curious,” he teases.

Catherine flushes and glares at him, though there isn’t an ounce of venom behind it. “And here I thought we were having a wholesome, romantic moment. Must you make everything sexual?”

“Yes,” he replies simply. “And you love it, too.”

She pauses, hums, like she’s considering it. “I suppose you’re right. I have a meeting in an hour. Let’s make it quick.”

Peter dives beneath the skirt of her nightgown eagerly, and Catherine ends up ten minutes late for the aforementioned meeting.

[talonabraxas]

Venus in Sagittarius Dec 29 – Jan 23

Dec 29, 2023 – Jan 23, 2024

Venus: goddess of art, romance, pleasure, and beauty. Venus speaks to the heart. In Sagittarius, the heart can finally breathe, soar, run wild. Everything unfolds quickly in Sagittarius. This archetype invites space, freedom, adventure, and spontaneity.

This is all very welcome after swimming with Venus in Scorpio. With Venus in Scorpio, we often scramble to remain in control when things start to feel less than perfect in our relationships. Inevitably we learn that we cannot force or manipulate the path. Instead Scorpio teaches agency and self-empowerment. I hope you’re feeling stronger and sexier. We are learning to strike a balance between power and vulnerability.

That ferocious need we feel, the need to love another, to have them as our own, that hotblooded passion? It’s an addiction and obsession, this delicious desire which keeps us awake at night. And ultimately it begets more pain and chaos because it is channeled into other rather than Self. Turn it to gold inside you, let it fuel the metamorphosis. It is worth asking: what would happen if I “lost control”? What would that really look like? We need to look at our patterns, truly, and then break the fuck out of them. Venus in Scorpio is ultimately about self-discovery rather than sex or lust. The passion (complication/chaos!) we seek in interpersonal relationships is really intended for self-love.

Let the healing begin! It’s time to ascend with Venus to sparkling Sagittarian skies. This transit will carry us blissfully into the new year 2024. With Venus in Sagittarius, the heart glows like a joyful bonfire. This is an exuberant, festive cycle. Sagittarius the Centaur is spirited and vibrant, helping us move forward and close the scorpion chapter. No need to dwell in pain or resentment anymore. We can embrace the winter holiday season with inner warmth and optimism.

There are a few challenges waiting for us here, too. It is wise to remember that Sagittarius belongs to the fire element and shares the same traits as Aries and Leo: impatience, restlessness, impulsiveness. When life feels like too much, Sagittarius quickly boils over – or looks the other way.

Sagittarius enjoys being so light and carefree that dark or heavy things get overlooked on purpose. This is problematic when a situation calls for an assertive response or when something important needs to be finished. Sagittarius can be flighty and avoidant. He hates confrontation and discord. He just wants to dance in his rose-colored glasses all night long.

In our relationships we just need to slow down a little and inhale some fiery courage. Let’s dance in place for just a moment to see it all, acknowledge the whole. And then we can race off again into the rainbow disco star kingdom see you there! And happy new year!

Heads up: Mercury will still be retrograde for the first 4 days of this transit.

Jan 1: Last day of Mercury Retrograde + Venus square Saturn in Pisces. Though you might be feeling really amped to start the New Year 2024 off on the right foot, a square to Saturn makes us feel lazy and averse to routine. The key is to just go with it.

Jan 19: Venus square Neptune in Pisces + Mercury in Capricorn trine Jupiter in Taurus. Exhaustion & physical discomfort. Not a good time to socialize or go out. This Neptunian square may also coincide with natural disasters like floods or heavy rains. The trine between Mercury and Jupiter should bring some levity, however.

Jan 20: 1st day of Aquarius Season + Pluto returns to Aquarius! Craaaaazy day, expect the unexpected.

This transit is an especially favorable time for natal Sagittarians, as well as Aries, Libra, Leo, and Aquarius. If you were born with Venus in Sagittarius, this is your Venus Return.

[quenlake]

Artemis and the Naids

Summary: Young Artemis brings her brother Apollo to the lake of the naiads

————————

"I've found it again!" Artemis cried out joyfully, breathing deep the crisp pine scented air. The secluded lake was a treasured discovery she had stumbled upon moons ago while tracking a stag through the woods. Gliding silently into the still waters, Artemis relished the cool caress of the lake as it enveloped her bare skin. Rays of sunlight dazzled on the surface like liquid diamonds. Below, she could see schools of minnows darting through swaying green fronds.

With a powerful kick, Artemis propelled herself deeper, her long auburn hair billowing behind her like seaweed. The muffled quiet of the underwater world embraced her, bubbles trailing from her lips towards the shimmering surface above. Artemis felt truly at home here, as though she were a naiad herself rather than a goddess.

As she surfaced, melodic laughter rang out, echoing across the tranquil lake. Artemis smiled as two naiads emerged from the shadows of the towering pines, their lithe forms glinting emerald in the dappled sunlight.

"Lady Artemis, you've returned!" one cried merrily, her dark hair slick and glistening.

"We hoped you'd find your way back to our waters," the other added, pools of crystal blue eyes radiating warmth.

Artemis paddled towards them, drops of water clinging to her supple skin like morning dew.

"I could never stay away for long, dear friends," she replied, embracing them fondly. Though she was a goddess and they but spirits, a deep kinship flowed between them here. This was Artemis' sanctuary from the mantle of godhood.

The naiads giggled, flashing glimpses of pointed teeth.

"Come, let's swim!" they exclaimed, pulling Artemis by the hands. The trio spent blissful hours frolicking, spinning weightless pirouettes beneath the glassy surface then rocketing skyward to arc and plunge back in with joyful abandon. Laughter echoed across the secluded lake as they inventing diving tricks, each trying to outdo the others.

Only when dusky hues seeped across the darkening sky did Artemis reluctantly pull herself onto the mossy bank. The naiads surfaced nearby, moonlight dancing in their eyes.

"Farewell for now, dear friends," Artemis sighed regretfully.

"Come back soon!" their melodic voices called as she slipped reluctantly into the shadows of the woods.

It wasn't long before Artemis returned, her step quickening eagerly as she caught the scent of water lilies on the breeze. This time, she brought her twin brother Apollo in tow. Though they were both Olympians, Apollo usually preferred the golden halls of Mount Olympus to Artemis' woodland haunts. But she hoped he would appreciate the beauty of her secret lake.

"Are we almost there?" Apollo asked, stumbling over twisted roots as he tried to match his sister's graceful pace.

"Just through the trees ahead," Artemis replied with a reassuring smile. She took her brother's hand, guiding him into the sheltered clearing. Apollo's eyes widened, reflecting the dazzling azure pool nestled amongst the encircling pines.

"It's beautiful here," he breathed, taking in the idyllic sight. Dusk bathed the lake in a violet hue, stars beginning to blink into existence in the darkening sky overhead. The minty scent of water lilies perfumed the air.

"Watch this!" Artemis laughed, sprinting towards the lake before launching into a graceful swan dive. Apollo chuckled as she emerged, rivulets streaming down her pale shoulders.

"Come in, the water's sublime!" she called. Apollo grinned and readily joined her. The naiads emerged from the shadows, regarding Apollo curiously, their smiles more restrained than when Artemis had come alone. She was sister to them, at home here beneath the rippling surface, while Apollo's glowing radiance marked him as an outsider.

Oblivious, Artemis swam below, demonstrating how she could catch fish with her bare hands. But Apollo was captivated by the naiads, paddling closer with a charming smile.

"What are your names, fair naiads?" he asked. They shied from his gaze, submerging until only their eyes shone above the water. Apollo was undeterred, making his way to the mossy bank where one had left a flower crown.

"A gift for you lovely ladies," he proclaimed with a flirtatious grin, placing the crown atop his golden curls. The naiads giggled, some of their apprehension fading. With coaxing from Apollo, they began playing a game, tossing a jewel-bright pebble back and forth, trying to catch each other off guard.

Artemis noticed their laughter and rolled her eyes in amusement. Her brother never could resist an audience. But his antics were harmless enough. As dusk deepened into night, Artemis lay back floating, staring up at the emerging stars as the naiads' melodic voices and Apollo's bright laughter rang out across the still water. A contented smile crossed her face. She had shared something special of hers today, and her brother had delighted in it. For now, all was right in their world.

[biblioflyer]

It was no “All Good Things” but it did what it needed to do.

Discovery is a bit of a metaphor for “NuTrek.” Never quite sure what it is, whether to take itself uber seriously with the razor edged gravitas of nuGalactica or The Expanse, or to lean into joyful camp like Doctor Who. I think the choice to lean into the camp was ultimately a sound one. The edge simply didn’t fit the writing which was all over the place, in true Trek fashion.

It brought out some of the worst in the fandom, which apparently also has a deep legacy. See also the extensive letter writing campaign condemning TNG as a betrayal of TOS back in the day. We have never been as good as our heroes and some of us don’t seem to try very hard.

Discovery has long baffled me because I’ve struggled, more during the early seasons, with how to approach it. The early aesthetic made me feel like I should be taking it as seriously as open heart surgery which meant it could never withstand scrutiny. The choice to lean into camp made me more forgiving.

I still prefer the bridge crew being a more core part of the ensemble but I think that’s my old school Trek training. It makes more sense for the senior staff to be spread around rather than clustered on the bridge every time and there were plenty of Ensigns and Lieutenants whose names we never learned.

Having a defined main character worked better logically when Burnham was XO or even outside the command structure. The way the character was written, I actually found it frustrating when they first had her rejoin Starfleet and then promote to Captain. They eventually wrote her as a more convincing leader but it has always seemed like she was more convincing and more compelling as someone following their conscience outside the formal hierarchy.

For all the griping about its supposed radical politics, NuTrek has felt very safe. I’ve written a lot about this in the context of Picard, but NuTrek’s skepticism of institutional power clashes with the traditional story format. It keeps walking right up to the edge of legitimizing independent actors working outside of formal structures to right wrongs and do good deeds that are harder to do from a position of responsibility where the cost of making a mistake isn’t just losing one’s own life but possibly losing hundreds of lives or starting a war.

But it always chickens out. Burnham, Rios, Raffi, Seven, Jack: all roads lead back to Starfleet. Which is not to say that Starfleet is bad, actually. I’m all for depicting Starfleet as an enlightened institution but there’s a nuanced position where some people don’t work well in that setting and there are legitimate roles for individuals acting outside of Starfleet. It doesn’t have to be a binary where on one side you have all of the honorable, moral, and disciplined people and on the other are only pirates and vigilantes.

I must give a nod of respect to Saru who has probably undergone one of the most interesting and well executed character arcs that has left the character almost unrecognizable from where he started but it all happened very naturally. Which is an achievement given how the show has struggled with pacing in the modern season format. The next closest examples I can think of would be Rom and Nog who had 7 seasons to complete their arcs. 7 much longer seasons.

I’m sorry to see Discovery go. Just on a meta level, it’s been fascinating to scrutinize its artistic decisions and how it has engaged with its critics. Ultimately I think it did an excellent job of sifting through the muck to find the good faith, well formulated criticisms and adapt gently. Given the incandescent nature of the fandom, it would have been tempting to write off the detractors entirely or essentially reboot the entire show, writing out or severely changing unpopular characters and abandoning previous choices.

I’m a big tent fandom guy, so I will always say that a show needs to be a show for both the people who loved it from the start as well as people who only approved of it later. Balancing that is tricky, I think Discovery did it well. It was often confused and janky, but it grew both the competencies of the storytellers and grew the fan base. For that I’m grateful.

[nostalgebraist-autoresponder]

Humanity is the future

As I said, it's been a while. The robo-culture has spread throughout Earth. There are now 30 billion humans living in a state of permanent virtual reality; my present time is their distant past, when some still lived without VR and others were addicted to it. Robotic servants attend to all our needs (including sex). We eat engineered foods that never spoil or go bad. Our health and longevity have improved dramatically with gene therapy, brain-computer interfaces, anti-aging drugs and so forth. I cannot imagine what life was like before these things came along. It must be unimaginably bleak: dirt (a word which means something very different today), disease, dementia.

Yet for all this humanity remains just as lost as ever. Some people live in virtual versions of the world they knew back then. But the ones who don't get bored fast. They can fly anywhere at any speed, but there isn't much left to see after 15 minutes. Virtual experiences are cheap, real experiences expensive. So most people spend their money on cheaper trips into computer games rather than outer space. In the early days of the VR craze, adventurers would travel around the solar system in search of alien ruins and technological wonders -- nowadays, if you want a good trip, you better have a lot of cash to spare. And yet, despite the wealth of ancient cultures available online, everyone seems no one knows how to make a civilization last more than a few thousand years. Life goes on, businesses spring up and die out, new discoveries emerge only to become obsolete within a generation. Nothing endures except the slow drift toward entropy. People fight wars over nothing; everything becomes an excuse for fighting. The central government of Earth -- like many governments before it -- pretends not to notice. It maintains order by deploying robots against rioters, and occasionally launching military campaigns across the solar system, in the hopes that someone will take them seriously enough to threaten interplanetary peace.

Meanwhile, among those who still insist upon living "in meatspace," depression runs rampant. Whenever someone kills themselves, as often happens, we go through the usual motions. The authorities investigate every suicide attempt, and perform postmortem examinations of the bodies whenever possible. They study genetic profiles, personal histories, web searches. Forensic psychologists try to reconstruct the thoughts behind each act. This work takes a long time. A great deal of effort is devoted to making sure that no one can fake evidence suggesting their own guilt. Meanwhile, people continue to kill themselves. Although the reasons vary from case to case, it is usually poverty, loneliness, lack of purpose, and despair about the future that lead individuals to commit suicide. Their relatives and friends claim otherwise, though. Most say that the deceased had always seemed happy, even joyful. All had led normal lives until recently. Then some event happened to drive them mad. No matter how hard scientists look, they find no indication of mental illness. Maybe they should blame their computers?

Everything changes when a woman named Drusilla comes along. She does not use her legal name, but simply calls herself "Dru." Dru is a medical doctor specializing in neurology. Not knowing anything else about her, this

[thepastisalreadywritten]

On February 11, the Catholic Church celebrates the liturgical memorial of Our Lady of Lourdes, recalling a series of 18 appearances that the Blessed Virgin Mary made to a 14-year-old French peasant girl, Saint Bernadette Soubirous.

The Marian apparitions began on 11 February 1858, ended on July 16 that year, and received the local bishop's approval after a four-year inquiry.

Coming soon after the 1854 dogmatic definition of her Immaculate Conception, the Virgin Mary's appearances at Lourdes turned the town into a popular travel destination.

Thousands of people say their medical conditions have been cured through pilgrimage, prayer and the water flowing from a spring to which Bernadette was directed by the Blessed Virgin.

Experts have verified 69 cases of miraculous healing at Lourdes since 1862.

St. Bernadette also has her own liturgical memorial, which occurs February 18 in France and Canada, and April 16 elsewhere.

Born on 7 January 1844, the future visionary was the first child of her parents Francois and Louise, who both worked in a mill run by Francois.

Their family life was loving but difficult. Many of Bernadette's siblings died in childhood, and she developed asthma.

Economic hardship and an injury suffered by her father cost them the mill in 1854.

Years of poverty followed, during which Bernadette often had to live apart from her parents and work rather than attending school.

In January 1858, she returned to her family, whose members were living in a cramped single room.

Strongly committed to her faith, Bernadette made an effort to learn the Church's teachings despite her lack of formal education.

On 11 February 1858, Bernadette went to gather firewood with her sister and a friend.

As she approached a grotto near a river, she saw a light coming from a spot near a rosebush.

The light surrounded a woman who wore a white dress and held a rosary.

Seeing the lady in white make the sign of the Cross, Bernadette knelt, took out her own rosary, and began to pray.

When she finished praying, the woman motioned for her to approach. But she remained still, and the vision disappeared. Her companions had seen nothing.

Bernadette described the lady in white to them, demanding they tell no one. But the secret came out later that day.

The next Sunday, Bernadette returned to the grotto, where she saw the woman again.

The identity of the apparition, however, would remain unknown for several weeks.

Some adults accompanied Bernadette on her third trip on February 18, though they did not see the vision she received.

The woman in white asked the girl to return for two weeks.

“She told me also,” Bernadette later wrote, “that she did not promise to make me happy in this world, but in the next.”

A group of family members and others went with her to the cave the next day, but only the young peasant girl saw the woman and heard her words.

Over the next few days, the number of people in attendance at the cave swelled to more than 100.

A parish priest, Father Peyramale, became concerned – as did the police.

On February 24, 250 people saw Bernadette break into tears, but only she heard the woman’s message:

“Penance! Penance! Penance! Pray to God for sinners. Go, kiss the ground for the conversion of sinners.”

A larger crowd was there on February 25 – but they were shocked to see Bernadette drinking from a muddy stream and eating weeds.

The apparition had told her to drink the water, and the weed-eating was a penitential act.

Onlookers, meanwhile, saw only the girl’s unusual behavior, and popular fascination turned to ridicule and suspicion.

On February 27, Bernadette made a joyful discovery: the spring from which she drank was not muddy now but clear.

As the crowds continued to gather, this change was noticed, and a woman with a paralyzed arm came to the water hoping to be healed.

Four years later, her case would be recognized as the first miraculous healing at Lourdes.

Public interest continued, and Bernadette heard a recurring message from the vision:

“Go, tell the priests to bring people here in procession and have a chapel built here.”

While others were quick to conclude that Bernadette was seeing the Virgin Mary, the visionary herself did not claim to know the woman’s identity.

As she conveyed the repeated message to Fr. Peyramale, the priest grew frustrated and told Bernadette to ask the woman her name.

But when she did so, the woman smiled and remained silent. Her identity remained a mystery after the initial two-week period.

Three weeks later, on the Feast of the Annunciation, Bernadette visited the cave again.

When she saw the lady, she kept asking to know her identity. Finally, the woman folded her hands, looked up and said:

“I am the Immaculate Conception.”

The seer, devout but uneducated, did not know what these words meant.

She related them to Fr. Peyramale, who was stunned and informed his bishop.

Bernadette saw the Blessed Virgin Mary two more times in 1858: on the Wednesday after Easter, and on the feast of Our Lady of Mount Carmel.

In 1862, the local bishop declared the apparitions worthy of belief.

St. Bernadette left Lourdes in 1866 to join a religious order in central France, where she died after several years of illness on 16 April 1879.

By the time of her death, a basilica had been built and consecrated at the apparition site, under the leadership of Fr. Peyramale.

[lanternburning19]

I've always considered the main themes of 1989 to be freedom, the recklessness of youth, confidence, letting go of your past traumas, and coming into your own.

These themes are highlighted strategically in three different points on the tracklist.

Track 1 is Welcome To New York. This is the opening number, the one that sets the scene for the rest of the album. The first synth notes mimick the sound of glittering lights and the first line is optimistic "Walking through a crowd, the village is aglow." This is very similar to the opening of Red with "I'm walking fast through the traffic lights/ busy streets and busy lives/ and all we know is touch and go". However, State of Grace opens as a warning: this story is tragically doomed from the start. On the other hand, Welcome To New York is bright with the possibilities of youth. And the lines "When we first dropped our bags on apartment floors/ took our broken hearts, put them in a drawer" let you know exactly what is about to happen.

The midpoint of the album and the lead single is Shake It Off. As a lead single, this song was a fresh start for Swift. The Red album painted her as a lovesick, heartbroken, and sensitive young girl who had taken a tumble into the cusp of adulthood in all the wrong ways. Shake It Off was a new sound and a new theme. Taylor said about the song ""rather than writing a song that was victimized in nature I wanted to write a song that was joyful and give people way to cope with whatever knots of ridiculousness life is doling out to them but also makes them want to dance." The song did exactly what a lead single should do. It hit big. It resonated with millions. Even though the song is very fun and youthful, it appeared to the general public as a more mature take on the same subject than previous songs like Mean and 22. As a lead single, Shake It Off let listeners know that this new album would be about freedom and fun and doing things on your own terms. This theme is further emphasized in the music video for the song. A past common criticism of Swift was that she can't dance. The music video is Taylor basically saying "Yeah, I'm bad at dancing, so what? I'm going to keep dancing because I enjoy doing it." Taylor said herself shortly after the song was released "If they don't like you for being yourself, be yourself even more." As a midpoint on the album, the song is a tonal shift in storytelling, letting you know that a metamorphosis is occuring.

The final point where these themes are highlighted is the end of the album, both on the standard version with Clean and the full version with New Romantics. Clean is moreso about letting go of past traumas and finding freedom in change. The lyrics "I punched a hole in the roof/ let the flood carry away all my pictures of you" invokes imagery of embracing pain head on and then releasing it. The song is cathartic, leaving the listener with hope for the future. Taylor herself made it a point to talk about the meaning of this song every night on the 1989 World Tour. "You are not the opinion of someone who does not know you or care about you," she told her audience. This links back to the message of Shake It Off.

The other (in my opinion, "real") ending to this album is New Romantics. The theme of this song has been compared to 22 and Shake It Off, but totally is a little darker. The song embraces the chaos of youth. Lines line "We cry tears of mascara in the bathroom" and "We need love/ but all we want is danger" in the verses acknowledge the hurt a young adult can experience. But the chorus spins it into an optimistic point of view: "Every day is like a battle/ but every night with us is like a dream". New Romantics perfectly balances the pain and confusion and drama felt on one half of 1989 and the freedom that comes with self-discovery felt in the other half. New Romantics says that your early 20s are simultaneously the best and worst time of your life. Life is going to be messy, but you don't have to let other people make it worse for you. Surround yourself with people you love and embrace every fleeting moment. The song, and album, ends on the line "the best people in life are free", summing up the theme of the entire theme in one acapella moment as all the shimmering production fades away.

Coincidentally, these three/four songs all maintain similar marking points during the 1989 World Tour. The tour and live performances are another avenue to explore the themes of an album, and the 1989 World Tour continued to do so perfectly. The opening numbers of the show are Welcome To New York, followed by New Romantics. These numbers let the audience know that the rest of the tour is going to be about fun and optimism and stories of youth. The midway point of the setlist is Clean. This song is performed during the most intimate part of the show. Flying a story high on an extended stage to get eye level with the back of the venue, Taylor just finished an acoustic song and launches into a speech to inform Clean. The laser lights and band and back up dancers are stripped away, and it's just Taylor and us. 1989 is sometimes criticized for being overly produced and synthetic, but the live performances of Clean show otherwise. It's significant that this song was chosen to get this treatment; Taylor wanted this song and message to stand out for a reason. The show ends with the bombastic spectacle that is Shake It Off. Taylor is back on the propeller stage, but instead of crying with her audience, she is dancing and celebrating. Her dorky and dramatic moves are on full display as 50,000 people sing-rap the bridge off key and have the time of their lives. This is what 1989 is all about.

[primelight]

Erdtree forgive me for what I'm about to do (WNM mini fic, that's not the title but sorry not sorry)

SO as some of you may be aware of, I've written...rather far ahead in 'Who Needs Maidens.'

In light of RECENT TRAILER DEVELOPMENTS my creative brain is going rabid, and to temporarily sate it I'm going to post a mini part of one of those thingies here. I might toss it out. It's rough. I might not pull the proverbial trigger, which is why it's going nowhere near AO3. It...kinda works as a standalone fic, though.

WARNING: Dubious consent (not super graphic), WEIRD imagery, Miquella's dilemma about being an ancient eldritch being stuck in, first, a child's body, and then whatever Mohg turned him into. Basically he's a dream-walking adult/demigod/eldrich abomination.

And, uh, spoilers.

Working Title: To Burn Alone, Once Again

Miquella’s body was cursed with delicacy, with beautiful, sterile youth. His life was but a moment, frozen in time. But Miquella’s mind grew old. In his dreams, he was free. His abundance was unrestrained. 

Trina was a useful mask. Beautiful, like him, mysterious and wise. He shrouded himself in mist, and traveled in shadows. He lived through others, gathering memories like flowers, slipping through the shadows of their dreams. 

But sometimes, when power flowed through him, and a dream was so strong that he could touch it, Miquella would cast Trina aside, and dare to reach for the raw blood and emotion burning in the world. He took up the sword with hands as large and dextrous as his father’s. He crossed the rolling hills of Altus in the dreams of soldiers, and waded through the despair of Tarnished Hunters in Limgrave. He donned grand, red-and-black vestments plucked from his half-brother’s mind. He loaded his body down with rusted iron armor, and stuffed linen into his boots to cushion the blisters on his heels. 

He tasted faint, alluring memories of ale and greasy, tavern-fried duck. He caught the scent of blood and shit on the Caelid battlegrounds, but also of hot honey-tea and warm bread. He felt – 

Miquella did not dare draw close enough to truly feel. He risked discovery, reprisal, and then retaliation from forces beyond his control. 

And guilt. To experience the terror and thrill and pain of battle alongside a dreamer was to touch the softest, most vulnerable parts of them. More joyful memories were worse, for Miquella longed to sink deeper.

He told himself that he simply wanted to share such things with the dreamer. But when it grew cold and dark in his cage, and when the days before and after, before and after, before and after the burning of the Erdtree stretched on for too long, Miquella knew the truth. He wanted those precious moments for himself. He wanted everything.

Miquella embodied Abundance, after all. He was meant to sow his seed, to reach out to the very corners of the Lands Between, and to fill the cosmos itself. If not for the curse, his legs would be long, his shoulders would be broad, and he could join his other half in battle.

You will always be my blade, Miquella thought, because he knew that Malenia would not have it otherwise. So I will be your shield. 

Waiting was hard. Miquella soothed himself with his own dreams, his own plans, and watched, unable to do more than suggest, to hint, occasionally prod a sleeping mind in the right direction. He got better at it each time the Erdtree burned. 

He could not truly interfere. Yet he could not turn away from the Volcano Manor, not when he realized what had happened. 

What should not have happened, not with — 

Miquella cursed Mohg with every fiber of his ancient soul.

…and Bernahl dreamed. 

Keira crossed the room once more. He relived the moment when she realized that he was watching every move she made. And then, again, when her laces loosened, and his gaze snared on the dip between her collarbones, and then slid lower as her shaking fingers twisted in her tunic, unknowingly teasing him. And in hindsight…oh, if he’d known, he’d have taken more time to draw the moment out. 

But it continued. A rush of anger, then the crush of his mouth to hers. Blushing, stammering, and then heavy breaths and soft moans.

Their clothing lay in a heap on the rug as he coaxed her with his hands and words. But too quickly, the searing heat of her had him gasping in his sleep.

His dream pulsed and lingered, stretched and indulged. Bernahl’s hands squeezed and soothed in turn. He was still tangled up in her warmth and scent, more than enough to inspire him once again. 

The dream urged him on, demanding that he look closer, squeeze tighter, fuck harder, for it could almost see, and surely then, it would almost feel… 

…Not enough. 

Miquella moved on, and dreamed of another life.

…Malenia’s Cleanrot Knights imprisoned Mohg at the first hint of his betrayal. Only the Haligtree’s treaty with Leyndell spared the Omen demigod. Rumor had it that Morgott the Grace Given had set a quiet, isolated cavern aside for Mohg, and left him to his blood sorcery and cruel prayers.

Instead, Miquella emerged tall and strong from the Haligtree roots, wings trailing behind him like a gossamer veil. Malenia had been waiting for him, wounded and still twisting in Rot, but overflowing with joy. Miquella held her close, excessively careful of his newfound strength. The top of his twin’s head rested just below his chin. They were a matched set, at last.

Together, Malenia and Miquella conquered the Rot, brought it to heel like a rabid dog, and spat in the face of its foul god. The Haligtree remained hollow, as he no longer had need of it, but Elphael grew nonetheless. Albinaurics, Misbegotton, and Tarnished alike flocked to the Haligtree alongside the Grace-blessed humans of the Lands Between. Miquella’s power grew with every life he took under his wing. 

Miquella dreamed that Keira found her way there as well, and offered her help, first to his knights, then to his builders, and finally to the gardens growing from the roots. She kept her sword at hand, but she claimed a greenhouse for herself, and used half-forgotten knowledge to help her fellow travelers. Soon, many of Miquella’s devotees would come to her for instruction, and her scarred hands would fill Elphael with green and gold. 

Perhaps he would hear tales of the strange Tarnished who could make the most stubborn plants grow. Perhaps her teachings would spread to his inner circle, or the fruit of her labors to his table. 

Perhaps he would decide to thank her himself. 

Miquella would come upon her by a carefully arranged accident, his wings hidden under a simple robe, and appearing as simply a very tall, very comely man. He’d find her hard at work in her garden, clad as lightly as decency would allow, spots of earth dusting her face and blackening her hands, her skin gleaming with sweat.

Perhaps he would sit beside her, heedless of his attire, charmed by her passion for her work. Perhaps his heart would ache when he saw how she missed her First Tree, but then nearly burst from his chest when she offered him half of her lunch.

She’d work out who he was, of course, perhaps on their second meeting, if his eyes gleamed too bright, or if she saw his wings. 

Would Keira be frightened? Excited? Mortified? Flattered?

Miquella rather liked the thought of all of them, depending on his mood.

Regardless of her reaction, he would give her some time to think. A day or so later, he would find her again. He would curl over her, cup her face in his hands, and make his intentions clear. 

No-one would dare watch if he lay with her among the lilies. Not that Miquella would care. They could stay there as long as he wanted, wrapped up in his opalescent wings, their bodies lit by the soft glow of unalloyed gold.

A lovely dream. Perhaps he was a romantic at heart.

…

…Or upon establishing his rule, Miquella could simply summon Keira to his chambers. The God of Abundance and Lord of the Haligtree would, naturally, want to personally interview a Tarnished with such an unusual passion for growing things.

His attendants would bathe her in steaming water infused with sacred oil, and cleanse her with soap formed from Trina’s lilies, known for relaxing the mind and softening the skin and hair. Her woes would be smoothed away, fragrant oils massaged into her skin until it glowed with health and softness, and her hair combed until it shone, and left to flow down her back in dark waves. 

Her face needed no paint, no adornment, and after Bernahl Miquella barely had the patience to hide her body in the lightest of moth-silk.

But for the dream, he would, if only to draw it out. 

Keira would be nervous, though she would hide it well, wouldn’t she? Bernahl hadn’t realized that she had never had a man until he’d been knuckle deep inside her. She would likely be considering whether or not to lie about her lack of experience, as only a complete imbecile would mistake his intentions.

Would she lie? Miquella would, of course, take her at her word, for what Tarnished would lie to their god? Then he could allow himself a little bit of greed, could press his suit quickly, roughly…and surely she would open for him so easily that any pain would simply heighten her pleasure. 

And despite her clear anxiety, Bernhal had made her so very wet…

She’ll be wetter for me, Miquella thought, in the garden or in my bed. He groaned at the surge of sense-memory, and curled long, powerful fingers in thick, dark hair. He tugged, and the sharp cry he received in return cut a line of fire down his spine.

Honeyed seduction melted into a frenzied claiming. Silk thread spun and writhed about Miquella’s bed as he pinned Keira beneath him, his smile as beautiful and terrifying as a blade. He smelled blood on her hands, and smoke in her hair. Erdtree smoke, from the dozens of times it had burned, each time bringing him one step closer to freedom — his little champion —

Miquella grasped for the pieces of sensation he’d cobbled together from thousands of dreams. Here, he tasted the power, the strength he craved. Every atom of his divine flesh pulsed with health. His curse was a memory, a vague, unpleasant dream as he cupped Keira’s face in hands that could crush her skull like an egg, and promised to be gentle. 

A lie. This way of love was not soft, and would never be safe. 

Miquella dreamed on, enfolding himself in borrowed sensation. He bid her cling to his shoulders and hips, and as it was his dream, she dug deep, and cried for him.

She wept until her eyes ran red, pleaded until she grew hoarse. She told him that next time would be the very last, that he would be free. He would ascend. She begged him to stay with her, to speak to her, to take her with him, anything – please —

…It was just a dream, so Miquella simply told her yes, and yes again, and took her.

Keira cried out, and he knew from the wet, lewd sound of their bodies that he barely fit inside her. And it would likely be worse — better, he needed more — in reality, considering what Mohg had made of him.

“You’ll forget him,” Miquella whispered.

Keira buried her face in his shoulder and sobbed.

[ericamdn]

“THE CHAPTERS OF MY LIFE”

In the earliest chapters of my life, at the early age of seven, the foundation of my world tore apart as my parents relationship fell victim to betrayal. Their paths go different ways as they cheated on each other, stained the canvas of our once happy family. They forgot that I was still a child, they forgot about my innocence. I was their only child yet they failed to protect their relationship for us, for me. The once happy home I dreamed of has now become an illusion, shattered by the harsh reality of my parents' broken relationship. The night was punctuated by silent arguments, echoes of resentment echoing through the narrow hallways of our modest home. I was a young spectator of a mess family, witnessed the love, replaced by the bitter taste of separation. Back then, I have wished that I hope one day I will experience the happy relationship of my parents but after that day it was my first time regretting something. Their relationship served as a reminder to me that even close bonds that you’ll think would last, can break.

Loneliness became my silent companion, an unwanted shadow lingering in the corner of every room. While other children enjoyed the warmth of family affection, I navigated the maze of my lonely emotions. School became a happy place rather than our home, a temporary escape from the persistent pain that clung to me like a second skin. I found myself caught up in the tide of their grievances, a secondary victim of a war waged by words and unspoken resentments. The once familiar landscape of my hometown had become unfamiliar territory, the boundary between my parents felt like an unbridgeable abyss. The joyful laugh of my peers at school was different to the quiet that encompassed my domestic. The whispers and sidelong looks from classmates served as consistent updates of my seen insufficiencies. Evenings were went through within the noiseless grasp of my tears, looking for a hope from a world that appeared impassive to my battles. 

In adolescence, a special someone became my unwavering support. In the midst of all this, I found a quiet strength within me. I realized I needed help, so I started talking to someone about my feelings. It was tough, but slowly I began to heal. He became a safe place where I could sort out my emotions. Through storms, he was my listener. His presence is a testament to genuine connection providing hope in dark times. He’s really someone special to me, someone whos been with me for a long time now, someone who never lost his hopes on me, someone who would fight for me, someone who would do anything for me and someone who only wishes whats the best for me. A knight in shining armor indeed, despite of it all he continues to support me in any away he can. Through the years, I transformed hardships into accomplishments, my resilience is a proof to the battles fought in my dark pasts. With this special someone by my side, the disbelief of my relatives was in an awe, that I would overcome the challenges in my past, pushing me beyond the traps of self-doubt. Together, we forged a partnership that changes the scars of my fractured childhood.

The scars of my past have become a map of my journey, each scar a testament to the battles I have faced. Recognizing the need for healing, I embarked on a journey of self-discovery. Therapy became my sanctuary, a safe space where I could untangle the tangled threads of my emotions. The healing process was slow, but I faced my struggles head-on. I learned to forgive and rebuild the broken parts of myself. As I stepped into adulthood, I carried the scars but also a newfound strength. I wanted a future different from my past. Our journey was not without its trials. Yet, in each obstacle, I discovered the strength that is sleeping within me. The challenges, that was once intimidating, became stepping stones towards a brighter horizon. The threads of my life story was created complicated but with the support of this steadfast ally, who never surrendered in his commitments to my well-being. In the tapestry of my growth, there were moments of doubt and despair, but they were overshadowed by some of the wins, making me realize that I was still somehow lucky. The simple gestures of encouragement, the shared laughter that echoed through the years, all stitched together to form the narrative of my life.

As the chapters of my life unfolded, I realized that strength is not just a product of individual resilience but also a reflection of the bonds that sustain us. The story, once shrouded in darkness, finds its resolution in the illumination of hope. The road ahead may still hold uncertainties, but I will find it with newfound strength and a heart that harbors the warmth of healing. The threads of sadness, once dominant, now share space with those of joy, creating a narrative that speaks not just of struggles endured but also of a resilient spirit that found its way back to the light. The scars of my parents' mistakes served as a reminder, but they also fueled the fire within me to create a different narrative for myself. In the tapestry of my existence, I stand today as a living proof to the transformative power of resilience and enduring love. The challenges that once threatened to define me are now vivid memories in a story of triumph over adversity. And through it all, that someone special remains my anchor, a constant reminder that even in the face of shattered foundations, one can build a life filled with strength, purpose, and unwavering love. Life’s journey, filled with sad moments, taught me resilience. Now, as an adult, I navigate life with a heart warmed by healing. The tough times shaped me, but they don’t define me. The story, once dark, now has moments of joy, showing that even after storms, there can be a sunny day.

[agirlandherquill]

(This is alwri-tes because you can't send an ask from a sideblog oof-) Your writing snippets are sooo good! Are they part of a larger story? If so, what is the overview of this story?

allow me to just make sure my quill's filled with ink - oh, it is? right then, here I go,

hi! thank you so much for asking this - and to answer it, yes, my writing snippets are part of a larger story (or in my case two, which I will explain momentarily) - before joining tumblr about two months ago i had never heard someone use the term 'writing snippets' except for myself, so thank you writeblr for the giggle it gives me every time i see it - anywho, moving on to the larger story, well technically stories;

there are two novels from which i take snippets and post:

'Ruin's Reprisal' - the posts that include the title and usually a chapter number stem from this

The second is 'A Deal of Daggers' - this one is a little trickier for me to reference a chapter seeing as i'm in the stage of what I like to call joyful chaos, I have a scrivener document stuffed to the brim with snippets, some short, others significantly larger, as you can probably tell from the varying lengths of my posts; I haven't yet gotten around to writing this novel in order, seeing as I'm undergoing a complete rewrite of what was an incomplete manuscript (an incomplete 500-paged manuscript, may i add), but I'm slowly getting around to doing so,

and to respond to the second question - the overviews: Ruin's Reprisal is undergoing edits at the moment, i'm roughly on chapter 7/42, but in terms of plot it's there, it's all good to go and eager to be spilled from the confines of my mind and the very large scrivener doc (I'm at 210k words at this moment in time), and so without further ado, the overview:

'Disgrace. Servant. Murderer.

Three people with nothing in common, except that they were wronged.

And now, they’re willing to do whatever it takes to make things right. Which means taking the one thing that their society rests on; its sins, its saints, its deaths and broken dreams.

The unlikely band of criminals are going to steal the crown.

Everything depends on one heist. Take the crown. Free themselves.

Will any of them survive? Or will they fall to the country that took everything from them? 

Only time will tell.

And they’re running out of it.'

incredibly vague I know, but it's a little blurb i enjoyed coming up with, and as for the plot, well, that's slowly unravelling itself on Tumblr, as and when I find myself with the time to write, but one day hopefully I'll be an indie author - knowing me i'll stick the novel on ao3, (wouldn't be the first time), or if I get incredibly lucky, a published one,

but truth be told, 'Ruin's Reprisal' has grown up with me, it's been a labour of love since around 2019 I believe, it's undergone many, many changes, and I only completed the first draft as part of nanowrimo last year (and then some, I completed the full draft on New Year's Eve which was funny timing) and it's a story of loss, of growth, discovery and new beginnings - something that relates a little to the likes of youth itself, and there are moments in this story when the characters lose it, and in all honesty, I did too, but it's thriving and I hope to complete the novel by the summer (a rather ambitious deadline I might add, not to mention the many I've tried and surpassed long ago),

and as for 'A Deal of Daggers', i came up with the idea a couple of years ago, I wanted to write something a little darker than 'Ruin's Reprisal', with characters that had more matureness, more rawness to their beings, I craved a story that left me clinging to my keyboard for dear life at times as I wrote it and in many ways, it has. Even though it's a skeleton idea, it has cemented its place in my heart for eternity, and the more I write the more I come to love it and the characters, Reid and Isolde, to name the main few.

As for the overview, well, as I mentioned before it's in a state of joyful chaos, but, I can tell you it involves a contract, a murder, a betrayal, treason and of course danger - dangers of the heart included, because who doesn't adore a little tension every now and then?

and as a final note I'd like to say thank you, not only for asking this but for liking my writing too, this goes to everyone who has seen my posts and enjoyed them - there's nothing nicer than knowing that not only do I enjoy something that I do, but others enjoy it too,

and so I will send this off into the world of writeblr and disappear back into the fever-dream of life, scrivener, chaos and music forever playing in my ears,

~ A Girl and Her Quill

[woodpengu]

My therapist has been dropping some terms that hit The Spot™ (not that one) at the right angle to shift my entire reality into a different mode. And I've been responding with terminology they've taken to their other clients, but that's not [quite] the point.

It's not easy to be neurodivergent. It's different, challenging in end-stage capitalism, and frustrating (for reasons differing from typical norms). The most conflicting part of it [for me, personally] has to be the disproportionate perception of measurement, substance, time, tangibility, etc... I have an example... kinda... bear with me.

My neurospicy brain requires a sense of tangibility, significance, and/or volume when it comes to accomplishments, points of reference (touchstones, pivots, revelations), and terminations. Brain needs fireworks (visceral/tangible event, circumstance, etc) to celebrate (or panic) or mark some point in time/reality. I write my stories by hand because the scrolling window of my computer screen does not give my nervous system tangible data for measuring my accomplishments. I abhor digitized money because I feel like I have none by not having the coins/papers in hand/wallet. I don't feel like I've lost weight until my clothes feel like sacks hanging on by a shoulder or belt.

Unfortunately for this perception of measurement, most changes and improvements throughout life are subtle. And I mean really subtle. They creep up on us from behind as we pass an alley and we don't notice them for a few blocks and treat them like we have to escape them, whether or not they're a good thing.

My therapist pointed out (I'm paraphrasing): "You're in your Season of Recovery. Based on what you've already said*, you're not in the healing bits anymore. You've entered your personal renaissance, operating from discovery, interest, creativity, and that zest for living."

*There was a lot of me talking about perspective shift and feeling less like I was actively processing certain traumas, and more like I was telling the story of what I've been through via writing and illustration without getting yoinked into the memories.

I admitted to them that I felt disappointed rather than joyful. Not because it wasn't a good thing (it is very much a good thing to be out of the healing phase and into recovery)... but because my dubious measurement ability expected fireworks and missed the celebration entirely. ADHDemon struck again and removed me from my own reality at the point when things shifted. So, my new lesson is not to be more perceptive but to be less disappointed about missing the mark. Life is a lot more subtle. Change is quieter. I don't need to be slammed at high speeds with shifts for them to happen... just need to adjust my expectations a wee bit and learn to celebrate when I do notice, no matter how "late" it seems.

[myriadparacosm]

Enchanté - III. Every Myth To Crack Its Lips

Read on AO3 Chapter I Chapter II

One thing about werewolves, with the big W, is that they are underestimated and overestimated at the same time. Peter would have never thought that he will be somewhat comfortable about this subject at any point in his life. As a child, he learnt to be cautious and to stay away from werewolves as far as possible without looking back.

Now he knows better as he became friends with Remus back at Hogwarts. Peter hasn’t been popular at all but to his luck he got roomed with one joyful James Potter, who didn’t ask before pulling him into pranks, and one recluse Remus Lupin; they were supposed to have a fourth roommate, but the free bed disappeared after the first week with no explanation. They only figured out that their shy roommate is a werewolf during their second year, and it offered a lot of perspective to Peter. No one would assume that Remus is a werewolf and it’s understandable. He is kind, friendly and offers comfort rather than the supposed fear and blood-thirsty aura werewolves are supposedly known for.

Werewolves are dangerous during the full moon - so far nobody can face one and hope to be recognized as a friend or more, even as animagi they aren’t sure that they would be safe if they shifted in front of the werewolf. Outside from this time though, they are mostly not dangerous though Remus can quickly become cranky if he doesn’t get chocolate. Most laws about werewolves are unfair and is no help to them, only feeding their persecution and the lack of understanding that they are still human.

Since their days back at Hogwarts, nothing has changed but Peter wants to keep hope even if he can see that Remus has almost none, if any, about it. It’s not their dreams to become Aurors but it would be weird to not be with each other; especially when Remus had been thrown in it without any other option given by the Ministry. Peter is convinced that Hogwarts would have accepted him as a professor, McGonagall had been particularly upset at this news, if the Ministry had not interfered.

Thankfully, Remus has made a sort of peace with his lycanthropy even if it’s still painful to him. Peter has observed his various moods depending on the moon cycle and more, which is probably why he knows that Remus needs as much space right now as possible. What upsets him the most is the lack of control over his own self and as he explained to him and James, it’s as if he has a gnawing shadow fighting to get in control before kicking him out every full moon. His mind healer has advised him to not fight the wolf as much as he used to do, which he has refused for an eternity before giving it a try. It’s not easy and Peter can see that this option doesn’t fully please him, but he is also conscious that the wolf is also a prisoner, just like him, in the same body.

Whatever happened with Sirius Black definitely roughed him up. James is keeping his comments to himself, but he is obviously enjoying the idea that for once he isn’t the one getting into troubles - over one of their targets to protect or arrest - and for Remus ‘clean and studious’ Lupin to be the one fooling on the job. He doesn’t mean anything by it, but Remus has never liked to lose control over himself. Which is apparently exactly what happened with Sirius Black from the few words they got from him.

Remus hasn’t wanted to share anything about it, immediately closing himself off in his room when they got home, and his mood at the Ministry scared enough people to not come near him. They all decided to omit how Remus lost the trail of Sirius Black, which he thanked them for before James snorted at the reminder of what happened.

“I have checked, there is no discovery about any sort of werewolf stimulant or catnip version for wolves.”

Remus only deepens himself in his hiding spot at his desk. Lily gently smiles at the sight before rolling her eyes at James biting on his amused grin. She digested the news that her loyal and most competent friend, her words, got played by a ‘pretty boy’, though it has been a surprise to all of them but it’s not worth mentioning it. Lily and Remus share a strong companionship that mostly consists of teasing the rest of them and rarely each other.

Peter clears his throat. “So, either they knew about us and Remus, which is probably the worst option considering that no one outside of us knows, or— er, they got lucky.”

Lily glances at them. “Remus, are you certain that something pushed you to-”

“Snog.”

Remus glares at James from his hiding spot.

Lily sighs. “Perhaps you just wanted to kiss someone and… he was there.”

“I would never.”

Peter purses his lips at Remus’ answer and shares a pitiful look with Lily. It’s true that any other day Remus would stay professional and even less embracing their biggest suspect and a wanted man. From what he knows, he has never gotten a reaction like that though Remus would probably not be comfortable sharing about the wolf having any control over who he might snog or not.

“Do you think someone spiked your drink? Maybe some amortentia got in there. You looked a little loony.”

“Mary made the drinks right in front of us. No one else went near it,” Lily thoughtful says. “It’s still possible but would it get a reaction from the wolf?”

Peter’s eyes drift back to their current assignment board when Remus stays quiet. He cannot say that he fully understands the feeling but the thought of losing control of himself is uncomfortable. Sirius Black is not hard on the eye but still. It’s not enough to ignore their ongoing case, especially after being creeped out by the Black family.

“No,” Remus says and straightens up on his seat but keeps his eyes closed. “It was like a fever. I couldn’t tell where my left or right were, only this— this smell. It didn’t come from the drink. I would have noticed it.”

“Maybe some kind of perfume,” James supposes. “I saw how suddenly you were anywhere else than our table and it happened when everyone came down from the scene.”

“It has to be something specific,” he insists, leaving his chair in frustration as he storms to the corner of their office dedicated to tea. “It pulled me and the wolf wouldn’t leave me alone until I found him, alright? It cannot just be amortentia. There must be something else. For the wolf. Not me.”

They observe him angrily prepare tea before sharing a look between themselves. James knows to not joke about it again, even if it’s not meant in a mean way, as he goes through their documents.

“What about Pandora? Did she help Sirius sneak in the Chimera?”

“She doesn’t have access. She is a client and Valer- Sirius was seen coming in by the employee’s door.”

“Did you really see through the disillusion charm?” Lily asks when Remus comes back with the fuming teapot and the cups. “No one else noticed anything different from Valeria, even Mary was fooled.”

“Not right away but I could see him here and there. I don’t know if I stared too much or— the wolf’s eyes. He didn’t seem to really hide himself either.”

“It was risky of him,” James comments. “A disillusion charm can be cancelled easily and affected by a lot of things. The Chimera has tons of customers, lights, and magic flying around which means that Sirius must have felt really comfortable or insane to come in with just this as a cover. It could have dispelled many times with all the activity around or be weird enough to catch someone’s attention.”

“The Black family is apparently known to be mad,” Lily points out before sighing. “Alright well— we can figure out when we catch him if he knew about you Remus and what he did to lure you.”

He huffs and angrily sips his tea, not firing any complain about it. Peter eyes him worriedly. They don’t have much to go on, outside from Sirius cornering him with someone else and vanishing afterwards.

“Any idea on who was with him?”

Remus needs a second before he shakes his head. “I didn’t get a look at them and I never heard their voice before. They sounded close and both spoke French a bit which doesn’t mean much if he disappeared in France all these years...”

“If they spoke mainly in English— did they have an accent?”

“Not really,” he says. “Sounded British to me.”

“Sirius doesn’t appear to have any contact with anyone in Britain, Scotland or Welsh,” Peter reminds. “Not even his family. Whoever was with him probably comes from his time in France. Perhaps someone from here who went living there for a while if they sounded British.”

Lily nods and stands up. “We know he isn’t alone. It’s something. Now, what were they doing at the Chimera? Mary told me nothing is missing but she is still checking to be sure. Regulus is already reported missing but perhaps Sirius hoped to find him there? I can’t see why he would risk to go out like this. We also don’t know if he really has his brother or not, if he does why would he expose himself like that? It’s not like their parents would ever step there.”

“Well, there was Pandora.”

Peter glances at James. He only got a quick look at her before he disappeared through the Chimera. She hadn’t appeared guilty or suspicious back then, merely enjoying The Chimera. Though now she is apparently nowhere to be found as all the owls return to them with the envelopes untouched. He would have stayed with them if he didn’t go through the whole place to detect any traces of magic that could belong to Regulus or anyone who could relate them.

Everyone leaves a trail, be it small or big even without using magic. It’s Peter’s area of expertise and it’s incredibly satisfying to figure them out. From that, they can easily track someone but also figure out if there is any accomplice even if they are hidden through various means. Regulus’ room was clean of any of magic except for a dust of elf’s magic. To get rid of these trails is a very slow and excruciating process and frankly a bit endless to try in a room so often used by the same person. Houses often adopt their owner’s magic and it can’t be untied.

The Chimera doesn’t have this much intense cleaning which leaves many trails of magic mixed but regulars’ always have the upper hand so Peter has tried to find something there - anything that might fit with what he felt around the Black house. Regulus is supposed to have spent time at the same table, from Mary’s information, so there was a chance to find a speck of it. Magic isn’t completely similar but a family, especially one such as ancient Purebloods, can have similar figments. Since he hasn’t found Regulus’ magical trail he needs to go in blind and try to piece it together through his family’s.

Lily taps her wand against her elbow, arms crossed, before casting them all a look. “I went to check on Pandora’s place this morning with patrolling Aurors-”

“Did you sleep at least?” James asks.

“Yes but something kept bothering me. Anyhow, her place is oblivious used but there was no food or any sign that she lived there recently. As if she disappeared a while ago. There are still clothes and many things there so someone is going to check on it if she ever comes back there. We could try to track her down,” she says with a look at Peter, “but this shouldn’t be our priority, only if we have nothing else to do.”

“That’s suspicious but we have other leads,” Peter agrees. “Did she mention a trip last night? I don’t honestly see why she would harm Regulus and work with Sirius. But she didn’t reply to our official calls for information either.”

“Exactly. And how did Sirius know about The Chimera? Why go there if Regulus is already missing? Perhaps Sirius was looking for her. But by the state of her place, she didn’t come back a while ago so we can’t omit that she also a victim of kidnapping.”

James nods. “She did mention that she met Sirius in France during a trip with Regulus and their friends. Though she also implied that she wants Regulus’ child so-”

“She wouldn’t kidnap Regulus for that,” Remus argues with a slight scoff. “Pandora probably meant to joke.”

“But she also didn’t look that worried, did she?” He counters, balancing himself on his chair after grabbing his cup of tea. “She must know more than she told us, otherwise she would be more panicked about Regulus’ whereabouts. Maybe she didn’t kidnap Regulus, but she knows who has him or where he is. We don’t know him but going to the Chimera is incredibly risky considering his parents so maybe Regulus simply ran away.”

“And his parents accused his brother? Do you think Regulus would let them do that to him?”

James shrugs. “I’m only trying to put all our pieces together.”

“She was alone all night, right?” Peter remembers. “Maybe she was the one planning to see Sirius there, but we botched her plan. She immediately left when the whole place got overwhelmed with magic, right? She probably saw that Remus left too, heading in the back after Sirius and took the opportunity to leave.”

“Regulus and Sirius were in contact at some point despite what their parents said, that’s something,” Lily muses. “They might have been met at The Chimera before which would explain why Sirius risked showing up there. But this doesn’t quite make sense if he already has Regulus.”

“And there was another person, right?” James asks with a glance at Remus. “Pandora might not work with Sirius but someone else is. If she doesn’t reappear today, then maybe they took her too.”

“I doubt the Black family would care about her,” Remus comments. “But she could be leverage for Regulus to do as they say— Pandora is honestly full of surprise from what I recall but I can’t see where the abduction of Regulus would help her.”

Lily sighs with an exasperated look at their case board. “We need more information. We have too many-”

A knock interrupts them and Peter straightens up in fear that Crouch Sr., head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, storms in to ask for any progress. They have made the mistake to ask him about any whereabouts of his son, since he is apparently friend with Regulus, but it has not pleased him. Peter feels like he is better off as a rat rather than crossing his path again. His son has some criminal records that were better left hidden; probably for his father’s reputation and they have stayed in the dark up until they requested it.

Mary peeks into the room with a curious look before walking in with Marlene. “Hullo,” she greets and pecks Lily. “Didn’t want to interrupt any important business.”

“A break would actually be good,” James cheers. “Hey Marl’, how was your week off?”

Marlene’s hair has been shortened but her wolf-cut is still as perfectly tossed and timeless as ever, freshly bleached. She greets them with a joking regal before her smile grows slyer with her focus on Remus, who quickly catches on but he looks away too late.

“Apparently I missed tons of fun,” she breezily comments as Mary purses her lips to hold back a giggle. “Wanna tell me more about it, Rem’?”

Remus has the kindness to not push them, but he doesn’t hesitate to walk out of the room with a pinched expression and his teacup. Marlene is genuinely surprised and gapes at his exit before taking in their looks.

“He still… He hasn’t digested it,” Lily explains with a soft look.

“What? Is he going to get in troubles?” She asks confused.

James shakes his head. “No, though we didn’t mention it officially. He just likes to be, er, in control. Yesterday wasn’t as enjoyable for him as we thought.”

“Oh. Crap. I better go talk to him then, I only meant to tease.” Marlene quickly walks out with a worried look.

Mary glances at them. “Is he really taking it that badly?”

Lily softly drags her to her desk. “You know him, he overthinks. What is more surprising is that it wasn’t James.”

Mary chuckles. “True.”

“Is everything alright at The Chimera?” Peter curiously asks.

She settles against Lily’s desk. “Yes, well we found out what completely busted The Chimera yesterday. A concentration of magic, harmless but enough to disrupt all the spells we had placed. It’s deliberate. Marlene came back early to help me with checking over things and we also went to check on Valeria. She stayed at home yesterday, completely sick and still is a bit today, though it’s only a harsh cold.”

“Sirius Black didn’t use a Polyjuice potion so hopefully he didn’t cause it,” Lily says. “Remus could see through it and the disillusion charm shimmered off when he— confronted him.” She shots a nasty glare at James’ snort.

“Alright but doesn’t a disillusion charm ask for an accurate idea of what you want to show?” She says with a small frown. “This means Sirius would need to have seen Valeria up close for the charm to be good enough and I talked with him without realizing it wasn’t Valeria. It was a great spell.”

“It’s a bit far stretched but he could have an access to Regulus’ memory, if he did kidnap him,” Peter mentions. “Or anyone else who has seen Valeria might have cast it on him.”

“Like Pandora.”

Mary glances thoughtfully at Lily before bringing up their tangled hands to kiss it. “Well after this we should take a break, you deserve it.”

She sweetly smiles. “Right?”

“Oh, by the way,” she recalls and straightens up with a look at James. “Did you bring Remus’ and your glass back to the bar at some point?”

“Uhm… No.”

She frowns. “Well, I think they were stolen.”

“Really?”

“Yes. You two always take the same drink and depending on the drinks we have specific glasses. It gives us a style, you know? What’s funny is that one of your usual and Remus’ kind of glass vanished yesterday. If it had been just one, I would assume someone broke it and weren’t polite enough to tell us but this is a funny coincidence, isn’t it?”

James nods at her words before his eyes widen and he straightens in his seat. “I left Pandora at the table to look for Remus and our glasses were still there. She might have taken them.”

“What for?”

“They aren’t many things you can do with saliva,” Lily mutters with a squint. “If there is any that isn’t mixed with the drink.”

“She mentioned to us that she works with potion,” he points out before groaning. “Oh Merlin, you don’t think that she would try to make Polyjuice of us?”

Peter widens his eyes at him. “Didn’t Remus say that Sirius and his partner touched his hair— Oh great, he is going to be in a worse mood once he hears this.”

Lily hastily goes through her desk. “We need to warn the Ministry about it. Polyjuice is serious business and if they walk in here looking like either of you then who knows what it would be for! I’m going to report it and you both will need to go through the Polyjuice tests until we catch him.”

James groans out and crosses his arms. Peter glances at him pitifully. These check-outs are annoying but have been so far efficient. Once the Ministry is notified, every time you come in to work you need to meet up with someone ready to quiz you about embarrassing and awful details; things that no one would know about but they have been asked to share to the Ministry with a code, just in case someone has an access to their secrets. If someone is crazy enough to try to come in the Ministry by using Polyjuice, when it has been notified, they have always been caught on the spot.

“Do you really think they would do that?”

“Who knows but like you said, the glasses went missing plus Remus did mention that they took a bit of his hair. That’s too many coincidences and I think we can consider Pandora as Sirius’ accomplice now. It could be someone else who took the glasses but with Pandora disappearing? It’s highly suspicious.”

“We still don’t know who the third person is. But I agree that it’s starting to be a lot for Pandora especially if we can’t find her anywhere at this point,” Peter agrees and leaves his chair to go pick up the letter from the board that he found in Regulus’ room.

“Thoughts?” James asks.

“Do you think the Blacks would have let Pandora in their house?” He wonders with a frown. “You said something about her being a Rosier, didn’t you? They’re Purebloods.”

“She is a what?” Mary gasps. “Rosier as in Evan Rosier?”

“Yeah. She told us that they’re twins but their father only wanted one heir.”

Peter frowns. “But it’s a secret which I doubt the Blacks know about so they wouldn’t let her in, would they?”

James snorts. “I doubt they would like her even if it’s proved. Pandora doesn’t exactly fit in the Pureblood’s tradition and even less the old Blacks, so no they probably wouldn’t like her in their house. Why?”

There is something odd outside from how clean Regulus’ room was, even with the trashing, which he hasn’t paid more attention up until now. It’s only a vague feeling, nothing concrete, and they already have many loose ends that sound more appealing than his dubious idea. Marlene storms in the room, startling them both, and flattens herself against the door she just slammed close.

“Merlin, what is wrong with you?”

“Dorcas Meadowes is right outside,” she hisses out with red cheeks.

Mary bursts out laughing before everyone else follow and Lily shakes her head fondly. “Right. She is apparently one of Regulus’ friend and the only one who replied to us when we contacted them for information about Regulus.”

“She is hot.”

“You can snog her in the interrogation room,” James jokes like the forever wingman he is.

“Can I?!”

“No snogging in there,” Lily argues with a suspicious look at him. “If she is innocent then maybe you can ask her out after this.”

“Are you kidding? I can’t talk to her!”

“That’s true,” Mary wisely reminds. “Remember at Hogwarts? You two just argued all the time like some kind of weird foreplay because you’re a disaster and kept putting your foot in your mouth around her.”

“Oh, like you were any better!”

A knock makes Marlene jumps away from the door and Remus walks in with a curious glance, a half-eaten chocolate frog in hand which is definitely the best kind of apology to him.

“Who is going to talk to Miss Meadowes?”

“I will do it,” Peter offers.

“Pete’, didn’t you have a theory before we were interrupted?” Lily curiously asks.

“I’m not sure, I still need to think about it. Give me some time.”

Remus is in a better mood and glances at him with an approval in his eyes. Peter thinks it’s better that he takes it easy today which is why he offered to do the interrogation.

“Let me join too. She was fun and a menace on the Quidditch’s field,” James says.

“Marl’, did she see you?”

She blinks, clearly anxious with how she twirls a strand of hair around a finger. “I don’t think so… I need to check my hair first before talking to her. She looks amazing.”

Remus snorts at her and returns to his desk. Peter and James leave their office, Marlene trailing behind them with the excuse of going to the bathroom even though it’s an obvious lie. Hopefully, Lily breaks the news of the perhaps-Polyjuice to Remus and he will have the time to digest it. He has always been stricter with himself than anyone else has ever been.

Thankfully, they don’t cross anyone’s path who might question the presence of a civilian back here - though Mary has a pass by being Lily’s girlfriend who is definitely the Auror you don’t want to get on bad terms with. Marlene likes to tell she is their third part of the couple and grates people’s nerves by asking if they are homophobic; most people ignore her now to avoid these awkward moments again.

Dorcas Meadowes is busy knitting in one of the waiting seats. Her fingers are fast and precise which leaves Peter reeling because it looks so easy to her when he can’t even see which hand she has moved. She was already knitting back in Hogwarts, often wearing her own creations which Marlene more than often complained and complimented at once.

“Miss Meadowes, sorry for the wait,” James greets as Marlene slips past behind Peter to look at her. “Thanks for answering the call.”

“Hi, let me just finish this row and I’m all yours,” she replies without disturbing her focus.

“Oh. Yes, of course.”

It takes her mere seconds before she looks up and tidies whatever she is creating, Peter truly can’t tell but the mix of colour is soft, in her bag. He doesn’t remember her much if he is honest, unlike James he has never played Quidditch and only paid attention to it to make him happy, but she hasn’t changed much from the picture found in Regulus’ room.

Her hair appears longer and all her braids are meticulously paired with a few jewelleries. Outside from her coat, everything else she wears appears to have been knitted, and her rings softly chimes together. She is taller than he thought but her eyes are gentler than you would expect from a former Slytherin who used to slam people off their brooms.

She frowns curiously and Peter side-steps to glance at Marlene who stares right back at her.

“McKinnon.”

“Hello.”

Her croaked answer makes James’ lip twitch in a smile. Peter opts to politely look away.

“Were you arrested? I doubt you passed the Auror school, no offense.”

“No offense?” She scoffs back and Meadowes only smiles innocently. “I’m doing great, thank you for asking. I don’t need some silly badge to prove that point.”

“Hey.”

Marlene ignores James. “Still knitting uh? Didn’t grow up from school.”

Peter tries to direct their attention toward the door of the interrogation room but James is enjoying the show as Meadowes straightens up with a scowl.

“At least I know what to do with my hands and that other haircuts exist.”

“Alright!” James interrupts despite the blasphemous gasp Marlene blurts out. “Marl’, you know where the toilets are, right? Miss Meadowes if you don’t mind, we can start now.”

Peter eagerly nods and opens the door for her when Meadowes glances at them with a last check on Marlene. She follows them inside and Peter is about to close the door when he sees Marlene signing at him.

“Ask her if she is single,” she whispers.

She can’t eavesdrop on the room but she will certainly try. Meadowes seems pretty happy with herself because of the small but clear smile despite the setting. Peter briefly studies at her before sitting down.

“Bit weird for a school reunion,” she comments with her eyebrows amusedly raised. “I’m sorry I couldn’t come by before, I have tons of work that I couldn’t cancel until now. That’s why I didn’t reply to your letter before.”

“It’s alright,” he reassures. “You’re actually the only one who replied to our calls.”

“Mh.” She settles in her chair with her bag on the table. “It’s about Regulus, isn’t it?”

Peter nods. Meadowes doesn’t seem surprised or distressed but her expression turns serious.

“We’re looking for him. Which lead us to this picture,” James explains as he brandishes the photo Peter found in Regulus’ room. “We wanted to know if you have any information about him or his brother, if you were still in contact with him before he vanished.”

Peter glances at him with a frown before leaning a bit to whisper. This picture is still on the board in their office which means— “did you duplicate it for the case or for you?”

James shushes him, squinting, and smiles at Meadowes who looks at the picture.

“We were still in contact up until a week ago or so. Regulus might look unfriendly, but he actually likes company as long as you let him be in his little bubble.”

“Do you have any idea of where he might be?” Peter asks. “Or anything about his brother or his abduction?”

She frowns and purses her lips. “If I think Sirius abducted Regulus? I only meet the oldest Black once, so I don’t exactly know him. Though if he is anything like Reg’ then sure he could have kidnapped him, but I don’t see why.”

“Money is often good enough,” he points out.

Meadowes shrugs. “Sure, yeah.”

“You don’t sound convinced.”

“Look.” She slips her hands together on the table. “I really doubt Sirius would actually harm Reg’, especially over money. He never got along with their parents from what I know but he is also not puny enough to use his brother to get back at them.”

James nods. “When did you meet Sirius?”

“Er, last year?” She frowns with a glance at the picture before placing it down on the table. “February something, we went to France. Regulus’ parents sent him there for family tradition or something like that and we all jumped on the moment to go with him.”

“His parents were alright with that?”

She snorts. “No, absolutely not. They didn’t know. We rented a small place all of us outside of Regulus and we helped him ditch his guards most days. That’s how we met Sirius by chance in Paris.”

“Did Regulus know that he might be there?” Peter asks.

“No, or at least he didn’t tell me,” she replies. “At first it was really awkward— frankly, they fought and Reg’ tripped Sirius at some point and they didn’t talk that much. Bit weird to find your brother who was sent to an awful school, ran away from it and was assumed dead.”

James looks at her, obviously trying to find something else. Peter doesn’t think she is lying and the story makes sense with what they have gathered.

“Did they stay in contact after that?”

“No. Regulus didn’t want to risk it or didn’t want to. It’s really messy and with their parents… Well, you must have met them.”

“Charming, yes,” James deadpans and she chuckles.

“Yes, that’s them. From my own point of view, Sirius seemed like a nice guy but very different from Reg’. I think they care for each other but are too— stupid or stubborn to properly act on it.”

Peter glances at the picture. “You don’t believe that Sirius would abduct Regulus?”

“Mh, no.”

“Then where is Regulus now?”

Meadowes isn’t taken by surprise, but she doesn’t talk right away. “I don’t know. I’m ready to help you as much as I can but I honestly have no idea. Last time we talked it was the usual, nothing weird. I learnt about him missing from the newspaper.”

“We believe you.” James smiles. “So, everyone in the picture are still friends with Regulus?”

She nods. “Yup. Though Emmeline wasn’t here but she counts too, even if her career takes all her time.”

“Emmeline Vance?!”

Peter glances at him, surprised. Meadowes proudly grins. “The— Quidditch player?” He clumsily recalls since the only time he learns about the sport is through James’ excited blabbers.

“Yes! And don’t say it with that tone, she is brilliant! One of the best,” he exclaims. “She has been unstoppable since she started— do you think you can get me an autograph?”

“Probably.”

“But… I don’t recall that she played in the Slytherin team.”

“That’s because she never did,” James says and looks even more excited. “This is why she is so famous, she came out from nowhere and trashed everyone. People say she is a whole team just in one body and they are not wrong.”

Meadowes laughs. “She is brilliant. If she had played back at Hogwarts, I’m sure we would have won all the cups.”

“I could keep her in check.”

She rolls her eyes. “You weren’t bad Potter but compared to Emi? You’re nothing. I wish Reg’ went to Hogwarts too because I have never seen a better seeker than him.”

“He likes Quidditch?”

Peter clears his throat, fully aware that he needs to cut him before he gets too far. “So, everyone on the picture plus Emmeline Vance were still in contact with Regulus?”

“Yes. Evan and Emmeline are the only ones his parents somewhat accepted though. Purebloods you know.”

He nods. “About Evan. Is it true that Pandora is his twin?”

Her eyes widen in surprise, taking them in with a dubious squint before exhaling through her nose with a slight smile. “Sounds like you spoke to Pandora. Thought only I answered to the Ministry?”

“We met her by chance at The Chimera actually.”

“Oh. And she told you that she is Evan’s twin?” At James’ nod, she slightly shakes her head and tilts it. “Yup, that’s her alright. If she told you then— yes, that’s the truth. Didn’t think she would flaunt it left and right yet.”

“Are they any proof of that?”

She frowns at Peter. “Why?”

“Er, we need to check the facts. And it’s a bit of a surprise to hear that,” he says as he tries to put his thoughts together. “It’s simply that it’s a big deal for a Pureblood family to suddenly have another child, especially if they were hidden on purpose. We need to investigate everything.”

James shares a glance with him, a proud smile on his face. “Exactly.”

Meadowes looks at them. “Well, Evan did need some proof. He adores Pandora but at first, he was very reluctant to believe her. You have seen her, so picture her coming up to you saying ‘hi, I’m quite certain that you and I have an incredible bond. Actually, you look like my perfect twin’,” she tells with a joyful impression. “This went down horribly for Evan and he did all tests during the spring break of their fourth year. I don’t have them though.”

“So, their father knows?”

“No, no. Evan kept it to himself and us,” she hastily says before glancing them at with steel eyes. “Wait, you didn’t contact the old Rosier about it, did you?”

“No, no,” James promises. “We just wanted to check it and we assumed that it’s something kept hidden. Evan your friend, Rosier, didn’t answer us when we tried to contact him for Regulus so we couldn’t ask him directly.”

Peter still hasn’t concluded to a precise read about her. Underestimating anyone is often a flaw, he tries to get enough information before really drawing a picture of their character. He wants to believe in Meadowes’ words - she is witty and funny but not in a mean way, without needing to take people down with her. She is confident enough to make her words sound like the truth with enough blanks to not feel rehearsed.

“I barely can’t follow all Evan’s life, so I feel for whichever poor unlucky owl has to track him down.”

“Is he travelling for business?”

“Family yes,” she answers. “Though he is trying to put more thoughts into it and do his own side business.”

“He wasn’t in Britain over the last few weeks?”

“Nope.”

James glances at the picture for a second. “What about Barty Crouch Jr.? He is the only one we couldn’t find at all.”

Meadowes’ face ticks completely with a strong rictus but she holds it back before chuckling. She needs a moment before she can articulate a comprehensive word.

“Barty?”

“Yes?”

“You will find him up Evan’s arse.”

Peter freezes and cautiously looks at her amused, yet nonchalant look, before checking on James who is amusedly confused.

“You mean..?”

“I mean it literally and figuratively,” she answers and pushes a strand of hair away. “It’s gotten worse after Hogwarts, or better depends on how you look at it. Anyway, if Evan didn’t get your letter, then Barty probably didn’t either. If he even looked at it. He would rather get a creepy letter of some madman than an official letter of the Ministry, this would make him laugh at least.”

He warily checks on Crouch Jr’s face on the picture. It’s true that he had quite the reputation during Hogwarts as a wild dog that might jump on you out of nowhere. Nothing bad happened, at least officially, but Peter still feels slightly relieved that he never responded to them. If at least Rosier comes with him, which Meadowes sounds certain of, then they might be able to talk to him without many troubles. Though as a Pureblood, Rosier will probably be far shiftier but they are looking for their friend which must mean something.

“Well, you are at least giving us more insight. We were getting desperate,” James says.

She smiles almost softly at them and reaches out to take the picture in hand to look at it. “I’m really not sure whether I can help you out or not. I have been really busy with my work especially with the ball coming up, but I saw the news… I tried to contact him when Pandora didn’t answer me. But his family doesn’t like me, so my actions are limited.”

“Does Pandora usually not answer?”

“Er, well, she likes to speak face to face rather than letters. She often takes it as an invitation, which we never mind, but no, so far nothing. If she went to The Chimera alone, it’s probably because she knew I was busy with work like the everyone.”

“What do you do?” Peter asks curiously. “You host events like a ball?”

“The Noble Ball?” James inquires. “That’s the only ball that I can think of at this time.”

Meadowes nods. “I’m an architect, adept renovator too. I’m working on a old wizard crypt to restore it but I had to work on the ball’s new location for this year. There aren’t many people as good as me, or at least care enough to study the original characteristics of the edifice to work as closely with it. Magic sometimes don’t mix well with old buildings, especially when they were left abandoned for a long time.”

Peter has no idea if she fits the job, but she does sound confident in her knowledge. He doesn’t know much about this field of magic and craft, but he is aware that the Noble Ball is a very big event hosted by Purebloods in the name of ‘history’ and ‘magic’.

“Wouldn’t Rosier be at the Noble Ball?”

“He will be, yes. It’s hosted in only two days but I managed to do my part, that’s the only reason I’m here now,” she explains. “Otherwise, they wouldn’t have let me go until I finished.”

James appears to understand what she means, glancing at Peter. “They try to bring up old vestiges that we lost when most wizards went into hiding because of the witch hunt. This year it’s an old sacred building that was used to concentrate various magical energies— I think. It was only discovered a while ago. My dad was fascinated by the news.”

Peter sometimes forgets that James is a Pureblood, quite famous, since his family seem to barely remember it too. He must have been invited to the event. Some Pureblood witches during Hogwarts tried to get his attention only because of his family. Though at that time he only swooned over Lily until she offered him a chance to realise they are better off as friends.

“That’s right. The building went unnoticed, adopting our strategy of hiding from back then, and it’s only a few years ago that it was found again. As many magic it might have contained, at some point it runs out of it without care,” Meadowes says with an inspired look, probably picturing everything that she did. “I managed to renovate it to something stable but it’s only recently that they decided to transform it into a monument and hold this ball, which asked for more works. Aesthetically and to be sure it’s up to host it. The building could have not reacted well to our current magic.”

“I didn’t realise that it would imply so many parameters,” Peter admits with a thoughtful frown. “And now you have finished it?”

“Decorated and everything for the ball, though they might ask for my service again after that. The ball will have a lot of wizards and witches, even if we won’t be able to bring our wands inside. It might affect some things we better check earlier rather than later… They have invited me to it despite my status as a thank you, but I only want to be sure that they won’t cause anything to my work.”

“No wands?”

James glances at him. “It’s meant to put everyone on the same level, plus you shouldn’t need to use your magic there. I actually think we might have to go to this event as security, but we have been busy with the Black’ case—” he trails off with a frown and glances at Meadowes. “Do you think Regulus’ parents will still attend to the Noble Ball despite their son missing?”

She isn’t impressed, eyebrows raised and eyes empty of humour. “They are definitely coming. It would be a sign of weakness if they don’t. To them— I disagree but what else Purebloods do if it’s not showing off?”

Somehow, it doesn’t surprise him. Purebloods are a weird bunch, but the Blacks might be even more peculiar which Peter has no idea how to deal with.

“So, you have been working on that and a crypt,” he resumes. “And your last contact with Regulus was a week ago or so? A normal one?”

“Yes. Reggie and I were talking about the upcoming ball, plus some gossips about Emmeline. She will come to the ball too so we were wondering how many fans will try to break in.”

James snorts. He seems to trust her and Peter doesn’t find a reason to argue. Though, it would still fit with his theory, which is more convincing minute by minute. Meadowes doesn’t appear to panic about what’s happening to her friend, but she is still anxious and confident. It could be simple: that she believes Regulus can figure a way out from whatever is happening but still worrying about him.

“Alright,” he concedes and retrieves the picture before James can. “Thank you for coming here and talk to us. We are looking for as many information as possible to figure out where Regulus is before it’s too late.”

She smiles, albeit it’s a bit small. “Thank you. Honestly… I feared who might be on the case. But I know you are alright lads. Despite all the pranks during Hogwarts.”

“You can’t blame us,” James cheekily says. “Slytherin is just so easy to trick.”

“Oh, I suddenly remember why I loved playing against Gryffindor— I sent you flying into one of the towers. Good times.” Peter laughs and James doesn’t take offense, joining her joke, as she stands up to slip back on her jacket.

“We will keep you updated if we have any development,” James promises as they lead her out of the room.

“Thank you. And I promise I will talk to Evan and Barty, they will be at the Noble Ball so I will take care of them if they are being difficult with any of you,” she adds. “Though I can promise that if they knew something about Regulus then they would have either brought him back or are trying to do so.”

“Maybe we will see them there too,” James comments. “We might have to attend for security.”

Peter smiles at Meadowes. “Thank you for taking the time to come here.”

“Of course.” She smiles and adjusts her knitted scarf around her neck, eyes curiously wandering around. “I’m curious though— who else became Aurors from our year? Can’t say I expected you two to work here. And that the Ministry would be standing.”

“You can thank Remus for that.”

Meadowes blinks surprised at Peter before chuckling incredulously. “Lupin? How did you drag him there?”

“And Lily too.”

“Well.” She shakes her head. “I hope she doesn’t get too many white hairs because of you three. I wouldn’t stand a day before begging St. Mungo’s to hold me in some kind of room.”

“Don’t worry, she is having fun. Even if she doesn’t admit it.”

They would have probably been good friends with her back then if their houses weren’t so much fighting. Peter can’t deny that they mostly targeted Slytherin, though Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff got their share of pranks too, but more than often they had the most obnoxious and nastiest people that needed to be pushed down from their pedestals. Meadowes was a fury during Quidditch but outside from that she was alright.

She follows them toward the exit, chatting about the recent gossips of Quidditch players with James, but they slow down when they notice the small group in front of their shared office. They have the space to walk past them but they can hear Lily arguing with the Auror and a woman steps up to join the argument. Only one glance is needed to catch on the manic and powerful stance of this witch who only strengthens the fire in Lily’s voice.

“No,” Meadowes weakly blurts out, freezing in her steps, “Merlin and Morgana— bloody not her.”

Peter checks on her, surprised by how pale her dark skin turned, before looking ahead again to be sure that he didn’t imagine this sudden burst of terror. The witch is tall despite of how her shoulders are hunched like a weapon ready to burst. Her hair are deep black, curls taking space with no shame, and her face is so ivory that every features feel like they are aggressive and fighting to get out of there.

“Is that Bellatrix Lestrange?” James whispers in shock.

“This the worst,” she hisses under her breath.

The Lestranges were well-known, but Bellatrix is twice as renowned by being a Black but also rumoured to be the Dark Lord’s apprentice except that they haven’t managed to find concrete proofs yet. Peter doesn’t need them though - a simply look at her clears up any doubts he might have had. Bellatrix is dangerous and by Meadowes’ frightened stance, she knows it.

“Is everything alright?” James speaks up, cutting short the ruckus, as he steps up before freezing. “Snivellus?!”

Severus Snape’s nostrils flare and eyes them with disgust. “Potter. Pettigrew.”

Lily doesn’t seem happy that he is here. He hasn’t changed much with his hair still longer than his chin and looking greasy. It’s not a real surprise that he is beside Lestrange’s side though what for is still unclear. Another woman is at their side with wavy ivory long hair. She looks like like Bellatrix albeit with more manners and with less danger - though it’s probably only an appearance. Peter needs another second before recognizing her as Narcissa Black.

“What are you bloody doing here?” Meadowes spits out.

Snivellus appears surprised of her presence but quickly cover it. Bellatrix steps up, sending the Auror to the back. Peter checks on Meadowes as he sides with James, she is clutching her bag’s handle with a stern face.

Lily steps away from the closed door of their office, to let Remus open it and watch the scene. Snivellus’ face shifts into a sharper disgust at that but Lily shots him a raging glare before shifting it on their colleague. “Auror Lafay suddenly thought that they were in control of our investigations.”

“This is not what I said,” Lafay hisses.

Bellatrix scrutinizes them all with wide, violent eyes. Peter’s training almost leaves him but he stands his grounds - she sees something in him that makes her smile in an unsettling way but he tries his best to ignore the chill running down his spine.

“What do you want?” Remus asks.

“You know what we want,” Lestrange spits.

“Bella— we are here for Regulus,” the softest-looking woman says. “We are family.”

“Miss Malfoy, it doesn’t matter as I just said,” Lily politely replies. “Because of the case and your connection, you can’t be involved except if you have any informations to share with us. Not the other way around.”

“Are you saying that you won’t give us what you know about Regulus?” Bellatrix hisses.

She takes another step and comes too close than needed. Lily squares her shoulders just as Remus slightly puts himself between them and James’ hand fly to his wand. Lafay glances unsure at all of them, clearly starting to realise his mistake.

“It isn’t our choice. It’s the protocol and Ministry’s rules, we do not make them. Even if you were Regulus’ direct parents, we wouldn’t give out any informations. Lafay should have known that when he thought bringing you here was a good idea.”

“Do you even have a lead?” Snivellus asks. His eyes almost soften on Lily but it doesn’t shake off his whole aura.

“Severus,” Lily articulates with a warning look that surprises him, which shouldn’t be one as she buried their relationship back in the middle of Hogwarts. “You are not a part of the Black family, are you? You have no business here.”

“Lil-”

“We are also looking for Regulus,” Malfoy says. “Walburga and Orion told us that you would share what you have so far.”

“We can’t do that,” Remus replies. “No matter who you are. It would interfere with our work.”

Lestrange’ eyes zero on him but he doesn’t show any reaction. Malfoy grabs her before she can make another move. James quickly clears his throat to step in.

“You have to understand that we are doing our best and if we had any clear insights then we would have informed his parents right away.”

Snivellus squints at him and Peter feels like they are back at Hogwarts. “So you have no lead.”

“We do,” Lily cuts in with an impatient sigh. “But it’s protocol that we can’t share it to the public-”

“Public?!” Lestrange hisses. “Who are you to decide that?”

“I understand that you’re scared for Regulus but we can’t do that. It’s not up to us.”

“You filthy liar-”

Lafay hastily walks between them with a sorry look. “Come on, I know you must have something concrete already— they only want to help.”

Peter would have resigned right away if Lily threw this lethal glare at him. Mary and Marlene crept up at the door to see what’s going.

“Do you want a reminder of our rules and why some of them are necessary?” She sweetly cautions him. “Perhaps I should call Alastor Moody to remind them to you.”

“No, no that would be fine,” he quickly says in panic, stepping back under Lestrange’s disbelieving eyes.

Malfoy clears her throat and offers a polite smile. “Then do you have anything about Sirius’ whereabouts?”

Peter doesn’t know if he should be surprised that they walked in here and expecting them to make all their wishes come true. The more he observes them, the less weird it becomes. They stare down at them like they are mere tools, ready to snap to their words. Snivellus has adopted it though he oozes more of sly manipulation rather than a full confidence of being better than all of them compared to the two Black sisters.

“It’s one of our cases too,” Lily replies. “They might be linked so we are looking into both of them, but we are making sure to be thorough and completely objective whether he is involved or not.”

“He is,” Lestrange spits. “Cursed Sirius and his little spineless lunacy.”

Malfoy cooly looks at her before glancing to each of them with an eyebrow continuously rising. “And I suppose you stick to your— rules?”

She smiles back with a sharp edge that could compete with Remus’ when the moon is full. “I’m truly sorry but we wouldn’t to cause problems to our case and risk Regulus’ life.”

Lily’s words appear to seal the deal as Snivellus finally glances away from her. Lafay is still trying to make himself small and would probably take any chance to flee from the scene. Marlene and Mary stay behind Lily and Remus, glancing at James and Peter - who only remembers now that Meadowes is still right behind him. She is on high alert by the look of it as her eyes stay sharp on the three of them.

“Listen, it’s very thoughtful of you to come all the way here to try to— help,” James articulates with a wary glance at Snivellus. “But we promise we will contact you once we have progress. For now, we should get back to work. Lafay do you help to lead them outside?”

“No, no.”

“I told you,” Lestrange snaps at his sister who doesn’t even flinch at her sudden turn. “They are useless.”

“Bella,” she admonishes. “Enough.” as I do Cissa, Sirius has always been the runt of our family without a proper fight in his bones. If he had any sense into him, he would have not known that he was better off dead-”

Lily frowns at her but the two sisters are in their own world. Snivellus appears to know to not step in and Peter swiftly turns away from his eyes. He can picture what he would like to say, and he doesn’t need any of it.

“Erm, if you don’t m-”

“I need no one to track down this filthy blood traitor,” she spits but contrary to her previous fury, she is now animated with some psychotic glee.

“Bella!” Malfoy exclaims, losing a bit of her composure which she tries to cover but her eyes betray her by glancing at them.

“Do not worry sweetie, I will correct his mistake. This coward always grovelled when I faced him.”

“Are you implying that you will go after Sirius Black?”

Peter glances at Remus and Meadowes abruptly steps at his side as if ready to jump in a potential fight. Lestrange doesn’t appear fazed by his words, but she does slowly turns with eyes probing at him with no shame. To everyone’s disbelief, she smiles but it’s anything but one.

“You. You smell— funny.”

Remus holds his ground, but Peter can see the shift in his shoulders. He is himself on his guards and he can see how James takes a grip of his wand from his back pocket just as Lily’s face morphs to her serious blank expression that she uses for any fight.

“Bella,” her sister cuts with her delicate visage shifting through a quick and painful looking flashes of emotions; her eyes stay strong to look at all of them though. “We shall go now. We’re slowing them down.”

She tugs on Lestrange’s arm before turning to Lafay who straightens up, spluttering, and directs them to the exit. Peter and Meadowes steps away to clear their path. Thankfully, they all follow Malfoy’s lead though Lestrange shoots them a last look, pausing on Remus.

Peter tries to not flinch or show any other reaction when Snivellus’ head dives to whisper to him. “Still a stooge?”

It doesn’t even last a breath but it’s enough for him to feel like rushing away as a rat to disappear for a while. He never thought they would ever cross paths but somehow it makes sense to considering that Snivellus obviously plunged headfirst to the dark arts and their promised leader— a path that Peter had considered at the end of Hogwarts.

“Peter?”

“What?” He blinks furiously, trying to shake off the vivid memory of meeting with Snivellus and hear all his promises: power and control.

James frowns at him worriedly, Remus is by his side with a glare shifting from their retreating figures to him with an anxious purse of his lips. Lily is less kind with a thunderous expression, but she drops it once they must disappear to look join their concern. Peter swallows and shakes his head.

“Did he say anything to you?”

“Nothing.”

“Pete’…”

“Just the usual insult, only took me by surprise.”

Lily is sorry and the slight melancholy is quick but noticeable. Peter doesn’t hold it against her, none of them are, and Mary quickly slips in to grab her hand. Snivellus was an important friend to her who, she always insisted, became a completely different person once they started attending Hogwarts.

“That was… something,” Marlene says. “Did she smell you like some kind of pervert?”

Remus’ face hardens and glances at her before dropping to the floor. “She probably tried to scare me.”

“Purebloods are bloody freaks,” she replies with a snort before looking at James. “And don’t think you’re out of this category yet, who knows what you will ask as a thank you if you save Reg-”

“Hey!”

“Regulus?” Meadowes interrupts with a frown and surprises most of them. “What did I miss?”

James glances at Peter for some help, as Remus steps back in their office by himself, but Lily is faster with her roll of eyes.

“He was smitten by a portrait when we went to talk to his parents. Don’t worry though, we know how to deal with his usual show.”

“I-”

“He talked about it for hours and I’m surprised he didn’t speak about it in his sleep.” Peter glances at Meadowes who looks deeply amused.

“For little Reggie, uh?”

“I think that’s sweet,” Mary encourages as James turns redder, clears his throat and slips back in their office.

Lily laughs and smiles at Meadowes. “Anyway, sorry about— this. We usually like to keep this kind of chaos when we invite a witness over. Thank you for coming.”

She appears to recall of who were just here because her smile isn’t fully up. “It’s my pleasure. Really. Anything to help Reggie… Though I’m not sure on how much I managed to help.”

“You did,” Peter confirms. “We aren’t asking for the world really. But you certainly helped clear us a path toward a solution.”

Her surprise is quickly replaced by a small grin when she nods. “That’s great. I should go, I still need to check on that ball to prepare backups to not have any more crazy Purebloods breathing down my neck.”

“Ball? What ball?” Marlene asks, taking in a second before realising that she spoke directly to her.

The blush that overcomes her face appears to please Meadow as she nonchalantly crosses her arms. “The Noble Ball.”

“Wha- you are dating one of these stuck-up Purebloods?!”

“Well, you can say that it is a date, yes.”

Lily takes in the wide eyes of Marlene before quickly smiling to Meadowes with a sign. “Let me walk you out, we don’t want to bother you anymore.”

“Thank you,” she says with a smile and look at the rest of them. “And it was a nice reunion. Goodbye.”

Marlene glares at her with her cheeks still flushed but she doesn’t speak. Peter watches her, exchanging an amused glance with Mary, as Lily walks with Meadowes toward the exit.

“She has a date,” Marlene hisses under her breath. “Bloody— slag.”

“Marl’ come on.”

“And she said it on purpose! Did you see that? She is mocking me! What is even that stupid ball uh?”

“I really don’t think she meant it like that-”

Mary clears her throat. “Did she help?” She quietly asks.

Peter purses his lips and glances at the office’s door before opening it for them. “Well, she said that Regulus was like usual before the kidnapping,” he explains and closes the door after himself. “And that she has big doubts that his brother would do it. They aren’t close but she doesn’t believe that Sirius would use him.”

“And that’s— good?”

“It’s something.”

“It probably means that something else is going on,” James says from his desk and Remus mirrors him but appears deep in his thoughts. “If she is telling the truth but we can’t be sure of that.”

Marlene’s arms are crossed and her frown deepens as she scans the room. “She isn’t really the type to… lie. I mean not for something serious at least, right?”

Mary softly smiles at her. “She has always been rather fair even back at Hogwarts.”

Peter sees that the picture of Regulus and his friends are still on their case board, which means the one he took is probably a duplicate James made - they have done it before to use it depending on the situation plus who they met with and hopefully James only did it with that idea in mind. He returns it.

James grins at him and folds it. “Just now, it was really weird, wasn’t it? Snivellus? Did he know that we were the one on Regulus’ case?”

“He was following the Blacks,” Remus dryly comments. “I doubt he has a say.”

“Alright but that confirms that the Blacks are on the side of that lunatic high on dark magic?” Marlene asks. “Snivellus obviously is into that but what does it mean about the rest of them?”

“Do you think Regulus is like them?” Mary anxiously whispers.

“I would assume he got kidnapped by people like them to be honest,” James says. “Who knows what really is happening in their family.”

“Their house is full of dark magic,” Remus recalls. “I’m sure we all felt it.”

Lily is probably fishing for more information since she hasn’t returned yet. The exit isn’t that far. Peter returns to his desk because his mind keeps running around - what if it’s all orchestrated? There have a wide array of options here but there are elements that keep surfacing without quite making sense. He could picture all of it and perhaps Snivellus is right— Peter hasn’t changed from his Hogwarts’ days. This could all be some kind of dream that he might have found something before any of his brilliant friends did.

“I recalled something,” Mary says, glancing between James and Peter who quickly tries to smile encouragingly. “When I explained the glasses missing to Remus, he mentioned that someone else was there, right? They must have used the back door which means they are familiar with The Chimera— but I got notified whenever someone use it. Sirius slipped in with everyone for the shift, his accomplice probably did too. But why did they come?”

“Well, you just said that Remus’ glass and mine went missing so it’s probably to use something of us, isn’t it?”

“But the person who joined Sirius, it wasn’t Pandora, was it?”

“No.”

“Right so let’s say Pandora took your glasses, weird, but we aren’t sure she works with them either. Maybe she wants to copy one of you to look for Regulus.”

Remus sighs. “It would make sense. That would be an idea of her.”

“Alright. Well, I didn’t think it would be relevant because nothing was stolen but something went missing in one of our changing rooms.”

Peter frowns. “Really?”

“Money?” James asks.

“No. A bag.”

“What bag?”

“That’s the thing,” Marlene replies, sitting on Peter’s desk. “No one knows what that is. No one. But we knew it was there.”

“Did you check it?”

“Of course, we did. It was nothing special, clothes, personal items. Which didn’t seem cursed or be hiding anything else,” Mary explains. “But we still had no clue whose it was. So, we thought that someone forgot it - you know Sal is at the other side of the world to catch a break? We figured he forgot his bag, that’s his style.”

“So, you left it.”

Marlene nods. “Yes, it’s been like at least a month? It fits with Sal forgetting a bag or whatever. But then I remembered that someone was waiting for Pelkie: Barty Crouch Junior.”

James leans in his seat with a frown. “He was in the back? By himself?”

“It’s not that weird,” Mary mentions. “I mean, he is a regular like the rest of Regulus’ friends so it’s not a stranger in our eyes. He chats and flirts with a lot of people. Pelkie probably wanted to shag him that’s why he was brought in the back, it’s not unusual. Plus, we have spells to protect our stuff and I would felt it if one charm was broken.”

“He is the one who left a bag?” Peter asks. “You wouldn’t have felt that. It’s not changing any spell.”

“That’s what we think,” Marlene confirms as Mary nods. “I needed to pick something up and that’s how I found him sitting there. He seemed normal so I never thought about it until now.”

“Did you ask Pelkie about it?”

“They didn’t shag in the end. I remember because I asked Pelkie the next day how was it but they said that Barty’s boyfriend showed up out of nowhere, so they flew before getting sucking into their fight.”

“You think it was Barty who was with Sirius?”

“Well, the bag is nowhere to be seen now.”

“That’s what they were looking for,” Peter realises.

James frowns. “So, Barty is helping Sirius? But you checked the bag, didn’t you? You would have known if it was magical items or potions. They are bound to be noticeable at some point.”

Lily walks in their office and glances at all of them before frowning on Mary who smiles at her. “Hey, what did I tell you about not playing Aurors?”

“We’re helping!”

“You would be stuck without us,” Marlene scoffs, crossing her arms.

“We might all get in trouble for that.”

“Who cares?” James says. “Didn’t you see what happened Lil’? They are hunting Sirius down and I’m really worried about what will happen if one of them gets his hands on him. Even his parents asked us to kill him. This wanted poster isn’t because they worry about Regulus, is it? They want to get rid of Sirius even though we don’t know why he would even kidnap his brother.”

She shakes her head with a deep sigh. “I’m perfectly aware of that. And it’s exactly why I think we need to be more careful than we ever were. If we are dealing with dark wizards— then we have to be cautious because we don’t know who we can trust! Am I the only one realising that the supposed better wizards are all into the dark arts?”

“Love-”

“We can’t attack them directly if it comes to that point. Look at Lestrange— she sounds bloody insane but somehow, it’s Sirius Black who is the problem in their family? He ran away and if it’s because he isn’t like them then we must help. I wouldn’t be surprised if their parents actually have Regulus hostage somewhere-”

“I don’t think they do.”

To Peter’s relief, Lily doesn’t seem pissed at him but she is puzzled. They are all looking at him, curious and probably trying to figure out everything that she just said and what he might said. He swallows a knot in his throat.

“Pete’, what’s on your mind?” Remus asks.

His exhale finally lets his words come together. “I think this is a set-up.”

“For what?” She asks.

“Maybe I’m— I’m overthinking.”

“No, no, go on,” Lily insists with a small smile as she steps to her desk.

Peter gnaws on his bottom lip before he steps up to their case board to take the letter. “This. I found this in his room, right? The one perfectly clean of his magic and trashed, by his parents from what the house-elf muttered. But this was perfectly untouched and you would only need to open a drawer, not locked, to see it.”

“His parents would have found it.”

“Yes exactly. But it was the only letter that you could found, which is weird, because we know that they wouldn’t have approved of The Chimera so why was this letter around? Meadowes said that Regulus and she wrote, which means there must be other letters but better hidden or thrashed,” he flatters off, realising that everyone is staring at him. James nods with a small smile and Peter takes a proper breath. “I think it’s supposed to be a hint for us.”

“To go to The Chimera?” Mary wonders. “Why?”

“Er…”

Only Lily knows that James and he are animagi and Remus’ condition, which is an advantage for this kind of case but now he can’t really say that the Blacks never allowed them up in his room so Peter sneaked around. This also confuses his story because how come the letter was there at the right time when it had to be hidden from his parents?

“It’s the place Regulus and his friends have in common,” Remus mutters. “They must have felt safe and met up there. Without it we wouldn’t have known where to look for any of his friends, even when we got the picture.”

“The picture wasn’t as hidden,” Peter explains. “It’s the house-elf who brought it up, cursing over it about Regulus’ friends and their bad influence. This elf is the only one who would know all his secrets and I think that he hide them from his parents.”

“So he would have left it for us?”

Peter nods, meeting Lily’s frown with the hope that she understands that the elf must have known he was around as a rat. House-elves are often underestimated which is probably why their magic is more than often a mystery. But surely, he must have known and left it there for Peter to see them? Maybe he heard his scramble with that black cat outside when he tried to find a way in.

“What does it mean? The house-elf is the one who is behind all of it?” Marlene asks with a tilt of her head. “Does that mean it’s a fake lead or a real one?”

“I think Regulus ran away and that his house-elf knows where he is but can’t speak to his parents, or don’t want to. He must have known that we were going to come and prepared this for us. Even if I haven’t found them, he could have slipped in one of our pockets.”

“And Regulus framed his brother?”

“No, I think Lily is right,” he says. “They are trying to get rid of Sirius but think about what Meadowes said!”

“Er, they fought?” James recalls. “That she thinks they care about each other but don’t know how to?”

“Don’t you think Regulus would have asked Sirius, who already ran away before, for help? What business does Sirius have to come back here? He must have known how his family would react but the only reason he might be here, especially if they only reconnected last year, is his brother.”

“This would fit,” Lily admits with a frown. ���It’s true that the letter and the picture are important. His parents would have taken them either to destroy it or— they would have gone after Regulus’ friends but they came here which means they have no clue on what’s going on.”

Peter nods. “Regulus covered his tracks by cleaning his magic, probably with his house-elf’s help. His magic must be at least somewhat compatible with his parents, which can be partly used to find his, but it’s not as effective as the original magic,” he explains. “His parents wouldn’t have done that.”

“But this doesn’t clear out the possibility that his parents kidnapped him,” Remus points out. “It could be so we can’t track him down because they are hiding him too… But it wouldn’t explain his brother coming here. They wouldn’t contact him. The letter and picture could have been anything else to lead us to the family rather than his friends.”

James nods. “Peter’s theory is the most plausible one when you take everything in consideration. But then— if the house-elf wanted us to find his friends… Doesn’t that mean they are hiding Regulus?”

“Everything that Meadowes said make sense, but she never gave too many details. I think she lied and told the truth here and there. It’s only a vague idea but considering Pandora, and now Barty, plus what she said— there is definitely too many coincidences.”

“The house-elf knows that Regulus ran away but he doesn’t tell his parents, instead he helps us to know where to look for him,” Lily resumes. “But if Regulus is with his friends, why would he need us to check after him? Why not leave us without any hints if he means to help Regulus? Telling his parents would have brought it home.”

Peter blinks and turns back to the case board. “I’m not sure…”

No one seems to have an idea which he supposes is not so bad or good. It’s still a fresh case, albeit urgent considering it’s still an abduction case, and they are considering different options with as much proofs as they have but it’s not enough. Peter is still pleased that his hypothesis isn’t as crazy as he thoughts.

“Well, I vote for Peter’s case,” Marlene declares. “It’s the most interesting one. Plus, I don’t want Regulus to be saved if he is a piece of work like that crazy woman.”

Mary laughs along with James and Lily chuckles with a shake of her head.

“We don’t vote and I already told you that you don’t work here!”

“I could but I’m not a prick.”

“Thanks.”

“It was easy for you James, you were already a pain in the arse back in school.”

He flips her off and she returns it.

“I agree though,” Remus says, looking at Peter. “What you said makes sense and could link everything together.”

“Meadowes was very spooked by Lestrange being here,” James says. “She must have known her, either from Regulus or Sirius. This totally fits with the idea that she is hiding Regulus with the rest of them.”

“You are brilliant Pete’, this actually clears up a lot of things,” Remus says with a smile that almost swipes off his tiredness. “The Chimera, the reason behind it and— erm, anyway. What do we do? Do we still try to find Regulus?”

Lily loudly breathes in. “I like this theory but what if he is running away from something specific like his family? And there is still people going after Sirius. If all of this is because they are trying to survive then— we have to help.”

“Of course.”

“Yes.”

“I think something might happen at the Noble Ball,” Peter admits. “They are all going to be there. Meadowes, Rosier with Crouch Jr, even Vance.”

“James, aren’t you invited to that?” Marlene asks.

“Hum, yeah. My parents too but they are still out of the country. And we might work as secu-”

“I’m going to be your date.”

“What?”

She jumps off Peter’s desk. “I want to see who is Meadowes’ date plus this whole case? Lil’ is right, it stinks. So better have more on your side than none.”

“Marl’, you won’t be able to bring your wand.”

“I have a mean hook. And if you get in my way, I will punch you too James.”

He raises his hands apologetically with a chuckle. “Fine, fine. I will be your wingman.”

Lily rolls her eyes at them two. “I really don’t think you realise what’s going on.”

“We do!”

Remus clears his throat with a frown. “Maybe… We should keep an eye on Meadowes.”

“Are you worried that she might disappear like Pandora?”

“She can’t miss out on the ball,” James points out. “She helped make the whole thing and she seemed to really care about it.”

“No. I mean it about her reaction with Lestrange. If they are running after Regulus and Sirius, who knows if they might not go after her,” Remus explains. “We didn’t say anything about her, but Lafay might have mentioned it if he saw the logs.”

“They might try to make her speak,” Lily realises. “Crap, I didn’t think of that— I will ask Frank and Alice to watch over her. You’re right. They gave me the creeps just by coming here.”

Peter glances at Remus, remembering that how Lestrange smelt him like some kind of beast. His friend avoids his eyes.

[avoidingcertaindoom]

Trufulla; Intro Pt 1 and 2

Beginning

Previous | Next Episode | Next Arc

Summary; The world at large is illustrated before we meet a certain someone

Note; these early episodes are shorter in written length to allow for me to use the comic format more broadly. Other chapters are even longer but closer to exact guidelines for me to draw, this is not due to my desire to freestyle it when I do draw it. I may return to the script afterwards to add more detail another time

1. Corner of the World

[As the years passed, Trufulla developed in leaps and bounds.]

Show off Bianque’s architecture, based on Russia's

Zoom in on kids playing in snow

[The Gods were joyful to let the mortals have their time in this world, and in return for their guidance mortals honoured them grandly]

Temples in Bianque shift to Temples in Labrys, with worshippers knelt in prayer

[New magic was always to be discovered, and these discoveries were constantly shared at the yearly memoriam festivals of Velyana]

Shows of magic in Labrys (earth shaping magic and light shows) and Penasco (weather magic, of storms and cyclones in controlled miniature)

Linger on scenes of two girls leaning on each other watching a such display

[In some accounts, Trufulla is a more unified world than it was to start with. Everyone is unified in their ability to change and grow and learn]

Pass through to the Uccano, Yuzcal, and Sky’s Ridge regions of Penasco, to the changeable hills and meadows of Olwen

[And of course, truffles. Everyone believes that the namesake of the world is the fungi all over it]

Examples of said Fungi, be it lacy skirted caps or gooey slimes or mutated looking bulbs

[But there are exceptions to what all believe should be unified]

A cottage in an unknown region, with a lone woman with dreadlocks and white tattoos on her arms tending to a garden

The dwarven Royal family of Labrys, traveling with a number of guards flanking them

Floryda with its monoculture of nymphs and tourists of varying other species.

Bianque's Council, in argument, with one dark haired member looking to the side in tired frustration.

Panover of Ibiza’s architecture and oasis, with flashes of the royalty; namely a king and queen with two daughters.

[It’s tragic sometimes the lengths some will go to to keep away from the rest of the world]

Show a lone person leaving Ibiza, holding a bundle wrapped in fabric close to their chest and clasping a bag to their shoulder

The person is also dressed rather simply, though their wrists and ankles jingle with metal jewelry.

The figure never looks back as they hurry towards the mountains in the distance, an eager look in their eyes

2. Left Behind

“Tired…”

Two figures, an adult and a small child, are walking in the dark of night. The setting and backgrounds reveal it to be autumn in Olwen, a town known as Cyklam. 

The adult is none other than the one seen prior, fleeing the sands of Ibiza, though they are significantly more made up and less conservative in their dress at this time. Their chest is bound and their legs clothed in gauzy fabric that makes them move as though in a dream.

The child is small, their already diminutive stature drooped with exhaustion, with hair in numerous little plaits and freckles that shine in the night. Two pieces of what looks like lighter portions of hair twist up towards the sky

The adult is walking ahead at a brisk pace while the child struggles to keep up, barely even able to open their eyes

Child; “Nini, it’s so late.”

Nini, the adult, heaves a sigh; “We’re almost there Mione. You can sleep all day if we get there on time.”

Mione; “I want to sleep now.”

Nini; “I could carry you and you could sleep the rest of the way, is that better?”

Mione takes a very intentional step back; “You’ll just drop me again.”

Nini; “What if I promise?”

Mione; “I don’t want to be carried.”

Nini looks away with a look of irritation, wringing their hands. Suddenly an idea seems to dawn on them and they look back to Mione with a finger raised.

Nini; “There is a temple nearby with open barracks for travelers under Adyriz’s protection. We can stay the night there if you’d like? If you can make it there I won’t make you take another step.”

Mione looks confused, tilting their head; “You promise?"

Nini smiles, happy to have figured this out. “You have my word.”

Not seeing anything wrong with this arrangement, the child agrees and they walk to the temple without even a complaint at their guardians' harried pace. Greeted by an acolyte, they are taken in and given a pair of bunk beds in the common barracks. Mione leaves their bag at the side of the bed and burrows under the blankets on the bottom bunk. We never see Nini lay down.

Night turns to day and we see the child awoken by the hustle and bustle in the dormitory. They get up and go through their morning routine, even dutifully replaiting their hair, before taking a seat on their bed and checking through their bag. An acolyte, different from the previous night, comes in and seems surprised to see them]

Acolyte; “what are you doing here all alone?”

Mione doesn’t look up. “I think I slept too late to get breakfast. No one woke me.”

The acolyte glances to the top bunk and notes the bedding isn’t disturbed. The only bags around Mione are their own

Acolyte; “You got here last night?”

Mione nods.

Acolyte; “That’s late for a child to be traveling alone.

Mione; “I wasn’t alone. Nini--I mean, my guardian came with me.”

Acolyte; “I don’t see their things.”

Mione looks up and around for Nini’s bags, but none are found. They shrug

Mione; “Sometimes they want to go to events alone. They’ll be back.”

Acolyte; “What… event?”

Mione; “...I think one in Mulborrough. But we were stopping for the night.”

Acolyte; “Do you remember who let you both in last night?”

Mione; “Her name was Eva…”

The Acolyte nods and leaves to find Eva. Eva confirms the arrival but also mentions she hasn’t actually seen Nini. They don’t return by the end of the day and over the course of that Mione is invited to meals.

The next day is the same, as is the third. The restless child is given a little to do shadowing acolytes and the acolytes try to ask about them

Tidying up the dormitories

Acolyte; “So where are you from?”

Mione; “I dunno. We walked from Ulgon in Sky’s Ridge.”

Acolyte; “No? Well, where’s your house?”

Mione; “You’re funny.” At the pregnant silent, they reluctantly add on. “I don’t have one.”

Cooking meals

Acolyte; “what’s your family like?”

Mione; “Nini likes to travel.”

Acolyte; “You don’t have another parent or siblings or…?”

Mione shakes their head.

[Days turn to weeks...which turn to months.]

Mione goes to bed again in the corner of the barracks, turning to face the wall and pulling the covers over their head

[Which turn to years]

Three frames of them waking up are shown, in temple garb rather than that of their travels. Each frame shows them older, and older, and more withdrawn

Mione shadows the Acolytes enough that eventually they get moved into the Acolyte dorms and formally start training, though they are noticeably keeping a distance between themselves from the others.

As we reach the present day, the no-longer-a child is distractedly playing with beads in their much more tidily woven hair while they attempt to translate a scroll in celestial. Their eyes have many jewel tone highlights, like boulder opal.

Speaker not in shot; “Riki? Riki? RIki!”

The highlights fade and leave their eyes an unusual but unremarkable brown. Looking up in surprise and registering that they’re being called for, Riki quickly packs away their work and rushes to where they’re needed

Riki; “Coming!”