#see I’m just thinking; in a setting where subterfuge is key and the truth is what people is made to believe instead of the actual

[swordmaid]

in my hc the noble houses of menzoberranzan operate similarly to the houses in ice and fire where they’re constantly feuding with each other but instead of trying to take the throne/control of the whole realm they’re all fighting for lolth’s favour instead. and because they can’t outright declare war on each other (forgot the reason for why they can’t exactly do that but iirc lolth doesn’t like it?? she loves the drama I guess) and if they rise too quickly lolth casts them down so they have to be cunning about it. not to mention if they stay too long in power and do nothing about it that also displeases the spider queen so the nobility’s game of intrigue is constantly moving and working both for self gain and for self preservation.

shri’iia also plays the game but more of a pawn than a player. she’s not born from any noble house (she’s actually a commoner). the only reason why she has any foot in the game is that she’s taken in by the matriarch of faen tlabbar - one of the houses who fervently worships lolth to the point of zealotry - when they’ve heard word that she—a commoner—have managed to succeed lolth’s trials and gained her blessing. lolth blessings are rare to come and making someone a paladin is even more rare so for a zealot house, that’s a a sign they can’t pass up. so, the house matriarch takes her in and keeps in a tower where she’s supposed to pray and train to lolth day and night. the paladin oath that shri’iia swears is both for lolth and her matriarch; she swears to punish the enemies of her mistresses and forever keep her loyalty to them. her matriarch’s word is an extension to lolth’s will, so to disobey her will be disobeying lolth herself.

and ofc shri’iia being born poor with everything to give and nothing to lose, who thought that there is more to her life than a merchant’s daughter, to be known by the goddess she worship and noticed by one of the most influential houses in the city, swears herself to that oath. she never regretted that choice not even when she’s kept in that tower in complete isolation with her matriarch being the only person she could interact with.

[galacticlamps]

im sorry im sorry im sorry i know it’s been well over a year but i accidentally thought about Short Trips: Deleted Scenes (again) and it’s killing me (again) so i think im just gonna go ahead and post all these stupid thoughts that have been plaguing me about it since i first heard it & maybe that’ll help clear up some space in my head for like, real life things.

Spoilers I guess? It’s like a year and a half old but also high key the most recent 2nd doctor content i believe we’ve gotten which is like, the only negative thing I can say about it

The TLDR version is this:

I literally cant believe how sweet it is? Painful, but sweet. Like. I don’t honestly know what’s more likely - did they set out to write Jamie a nice little straight love interest and just fail miserably at it by constantly likening her to the Doctor AND paralleling the Doctor’s perspective with her ex’s AND putting Jamie’s relationships with both of them in direct tension with each other while constantly letting his with the Doctor win out?

OR - did they do a very 1960s thing and say hey we’re gonna write what’s essentially a story about how much Jamie and the Doctor love each other and release it on Valentine’s Day thinly disguised as a one-off romance with a french lady?

Now, as a general rule, my attitude toward questions like that is usually “don’t know, don’t care, doesn’t matter” - and while I 100% stand by that, I also have to admit that this particular audio seems to pay enough attention to detail that I’d kind of think I was selling it short if I assumed too many of these things were just meaningless coincidences, you know?

Anyway, that’s the most coherent/overarching thought. And here’s a disorganized list of things I absolutely cannot get over about it (they don’t form any kind of argument, mind, they just all happen to live rent free in my head):

- Celine is first taken in by Jamie being an idiot (specifically him claiming not to speak French, in perfect French); likewise, her entrance in the scene where they actually kiss is marked with a little anecdote about her hat getting stuck on a doornail and her scolding it as she attempts to fix her un-tameable appearance, and the narration says Celine “would often clown for Jamie like this” - all of which, while undeniably adorable, don’t exactly strike me as entirely original traits to have been assigned to Jamie’s love-interest (but also Celine is so cool and her perspective on film/media/time is an excellent addition to the long list of dr who characters)

- When they’re in the present, describing Jamie’s relationship with Celine in 1908, they call him her “companion” and highlight his going nearly everywhere with her, which earns a laugh from the 4th doctor (and me as well, though probably for slightly different reasons - but like, is that really all it takes to have a fling with someone in 60′s era who? bc if so...)

- Celine’s ex-fiance is still in love with her and is jealously watching when she kisses Jamie ... and then the Doctor appears beside him, evidently doing the exact. same. thing. They have the following conversation:

“You know, it’s not prudent to spy on people. But then, people in pain can’t be expected to act prudently.”

“Pain, monsieur? You mistake me.”

“Ah, do I? Good, because I rather thought you’d lost something.”

“What would you know about loss monsieur?”

- I’m sorry doc but who do you think you are, saying stuff like that and smiling sadly at the floor to boot? I 100% had to pause it here the first time I listened, just to not throw my laptop across the room. 

- Then when I recovered continued, the Doctor closes the door so they can’t watch anymore and explains “Possessing things comes so terribly easily to some men that losing them can feel cruel, intolerably cruel. In my experience, only the very best of men cannot be tempted to answer that cruelty with more - I do sincerely hope that you are the best of men.” (guess who gets described as the best of men by the end of the audio?)

- Jamie and the Doctor apparently develop a habit of walking along the river in Paris in silence

- During one such walk, Jamie suggests Celine come with them since she already figured out about the Tardis - and when the Doctor’s worried by this, he says he only allowed Jamie & Celine to grow closer “because of Victoria.” Jamie takes offense at the ‘allowing it’ comment and also refuses to admit he knows what the Doctor means about Victoria, which leads the Doctor to say that he knows how fond Jamie was of her - he was too, of course, but with him, “it was different, wasn’t it?” Jamie only says maybe that’s true and maybe that’s not, but his voice catches until he changes the subject

- Jamie doesn’t see Celine for days both times that she’s recovering from the shock and depression of her work being destroyed. In contrast, when the Doctor’s not well, Jamie’s "afraid” and “guilty” and hardly seems to leave his side at all, if his being there “rushing to embrace him” the second he wakes up - after a period Jamie describes as “at least a week” - is anything to go by, anyway. so either bf writers need to learn how to write a committed straight relationship or admit that’s not what they ever intended in the first place

- Oh yeah, and the Doctor spends that week "asleep” in Jamie’s bedroom - no, there’s no explanation as to if that’s where he was when he first collapsed or if it’s where Jamie decided to take him bc why would they feel the need to explain him being there? why was it even relevant to tell us it was Jamie’s room in the first place?

- The Doctor somehow manages to control the Tardis enough to take Celine on one trip to an alien planet and then return to the correct time & place for her to use the footage she recorded there in her new film - and while the audio doesn’t do very much to explain how that was possible, it does treat this as A Pretty Big Deal, and immediately afterward the Doctor has to spend a week communing with his past self (and/or the Tardis?) debating how likely it is that the Time Lords could use this to trace him. When he decides it’s not worth the risk and they have to stop the film from ever being shown to the public, Jamie asks why he agreed to it in the first place, and all he can say is “Because, Jamie, you asked me to!” earning awkward stares from the crowd.

- Oh, but, lest we forget, that little outburst is also immediately followed by him putting his arm around Jamie’s shoulders, and, shockingly, apparently beginning to actually explain the truth about the danger from the Time Lords - until they’re interrupted, of course idk why exactly but the idea of a 60s dr wanting to come clean with a companion but not being allowed to bc the show demands the war games be something of a reveal hurts me in a very good way

- The mental image of “the Doctor and Jamie, resplendent in borrowed evening wear”

- The audio admitting that Jamie’s not very good at subterfuge, and the Doctor asking if he’s going to be alright with them having to steal the film back from Celine - and Jamie’s little “Aye, Doctor” as he feels a ‘glass arrow piercing his chest’ glad to see bf is reading all my letters about exactly how i feel any time something sad happens to james robert mccrimmon

- The Doctor’s anxious to get out of there for obvious reasons, but he hangs around bc Jamie wants to see Celine again - which doesn’t happen, because of her aforementioned shock & depression, but she does leave Jamie a note that ends “you and that Doctor of yours - look after him Jamie, he loves you dearly, as do I.” yeah, if you didn’t want people to draw a parallel there, you could’ve picked, like, any other wording in the world.

- In case you weren’t fully convinced I’ve been reading too much into this whole audio already, consider this: Celine dies in Long Island in 1968, three days before her birthday - 1968 is when this story would’ve taken place in the show’s history (between Fury & Wheel), and dying three days before/after a birthday in America seems a bit... well I had some deja vu from it, anyway

- Four of all people being the one to bring back the film - I know he does it bc Sarah Jane makes him, but personally, I often feel like despite the length of his run, 4 is the Doctor with which we might’ve gotten the fewest glimpses into his interiority, so the fact that it’s him and not one of the more overtly sentimental Doctors makes it feel like it carries even more weight somehow, to me anyway. I think I wrote a post saying roughly the same thing about 4 & Fate of Krelos/Return to Telos but maybe I only did that inside my own head lol. Still, I’m all for any opportunities for Jamie to be one of the few characters to draw some noticeable emotion out of Four, but in fairness I haven’t touched too much of his EU stuff to really be able to compare the frequency with which this happens with other past companions

- Is Four referring to Two or Jamie when he says he got the film from “an old family friend”? Two did the actual stealing, but he probably means Jamie’s involvement - either way, it’s an interesting way of describing old companions - or selves?

- When Jemima goes to call Jamie a thief, Four is “roused” to defend him: “he really was the very best of men” again, any time four freely shows he cares about someone, im over the moon about it

- Oh ha ha, there’s an audio called “Deleted Scenes” featuring the Doctor who’s most affected by junked episodes. And at the end of it, a character who’s spent her life researching and lecturing about a lost film gets to watch it be ‘rediscovered’ after it’s gone unseen for decades. I feel marginally less stupid for reading into the other details of a story like this when it ends up deciding to be to be clever & slightly meta like that

But yeah

all in all, it’s kind of amazing to me that this genuinely reads like they sat down and said okay boys it’s valentines day, let’s write an audio where jamie kisses a girl, since that hasn’t happened except as a plot device in one story in 1967 - but then when they got down to business they accidentally(?) wrote a story all about how important his bond with the Doctor is and how easily that can be compared to a legitimate love interest (even if the love interest in question is a one off character & the extent of the relationship appears to be like one kiss & then having Jamie spend most of his time around the Doctor instead)

I realize there’s something slightly illogical about writing the words “shipping aside” after a post like this but seriously - no matter how many categories you’re able to see two & jamie’s relationship fitting into, this is 40 minutes of big finish just hitting you over the head with how powerful/special/important that relationship is, and with them being two of my favorite characters, i really haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since

[zebrabaker]

Families Lost and Found

Here we go, a brand new story, ft Jasonette, with a side of badass Marinette.

Marinette had many fond memories of being young. Her Mama singing her ancient lullabies as she combed her jet black hair. Visiting with Aunt Talia twice a year, and meeting her Godson Damain Al Ghul. Celebrating Chinese New Year with her maternal family in China, and being slipped small weapons along with her hongbao, eating jian dui with her cousins in between lessons. Her Aunties teaching her how to use her beauty to beguile and bewilder. Her Uncles showing her how to hold a knife. Her Maa-Maa showing her how to sew hidden pockets into all her clothes, and Ah-Gung showing her the many pressure points on a man that could cripple someone in seconds. Her older female cousins taught her how to use her bu yao as a deadly weapon, all the soft spots on a person that would hurt the worst when stabbed with the sharpened hair ornaments. Her older male cousins lessons were in subterfuge and misdirection. By the time she was seven, Marinette was well aware that most girls her age weren’t taught these things. But hey, Marinette was the next head of the Parisian branch of the Triad. Her younger cousin Bridgette would be her second in command, as she was the daughter of Maa-Maa and Ah-Ghung’s second child, Marinette’s Uncle Lee Cheng. Marinette knew her second and third cousins were scattered across Europe, ruling their branches with a velvet covered iron fist, as they were all taught, by family law.

She had been on her way home from a ‘family gathering’, really just a meeting at the front Cousin Yo owned, a large rental hall that could be equipped for any even. In reality, it was a trimonthly gathering of all heads of the Triad’s French branch. They were all, aside from her and her mother, from different cities across the country. She was almost back to her penthouse when she saw it, a man leaning against the wall of her building and staring at the five star Italian restaurant across the street. The restaurant that just so happened to be her eighteenth birthday gift from Mama, and a front for a smuggling ring the Triad had started almost ten years ago. They didn’t smuggle drugs or guns, but refugees, people who needed a new place to call home for some reason or another. Could he be a cop? Or worse, from the Russians? They had been rearing their heads again, trying to push their experimental heroine blend onto Triad streets, and Sabine had been sure to stomp them into the dust.

Waving her hand nonchalantly, her guards paused, and Marinette advanced on the man. His eyes snapped to hers, and his gaze seemed to bore into her very soul. His hair was peeking out from under a rather beat up beanie, and most of it was black, aside from a few white strands hanging over his eyes. She could see that under his mismatched clothes, he was wrapped like a mummy in bandages.

“Sir, are you okay?” She asked, raising her hands to show she means no harm.

“I... I’m from Talia. She said to find -” He manage to get out, before his eyes roll back in his head and he drops like a brick.

“Boys!” Marinette calls, and her guards, two men from the Italians, ‘gifted’ to her as goodwill gifts on her sixteenth birthday, Tony and Bobby, leapt into action, grabbing the man under the arm and throwing his arms over their shoulders. Marinette grabbed her key card from her phone wallet and swiped it at the keypad that opened the door to the lobby. The building was owned entirely by members of the Triad, filled with families of those in service to the organization. It was securely guarded 24/7, and the higher up in the building you were, the higher ranked you were. Marinette was in the penthouse, an entire floor to herself. Her guards and closest confidants had apartments on the floor just below her. Waving off the doorman, Marinette made her way straight for the elevator bay and pressed the call button for her personal elevator.

The ride was agonizingly slow, but after what felt like hours, the car arrived at her hallway. Digging her keys out of her purse, Marinette quickly unlocked the door and ushered her guards inside.

“Set him on the couch and go home, I need to check him for injuries.” Tony and Bobby shared a discomforted look, but nodded and obeyed her orders. Marinette quickly grabbed her first aid kit from the bathroom, a massive, clunky thing that could probably stock a small doctor’s office for days. When she came back, the man was still asleep on the couch, breathing slowly and deep. Now that she looked him over more carefully, his clothes were clearly stolen, as none of them seemed to fit quite the same. With a sigh, Marinette drew the medical scissors from the case and began to casually cut away his jacket. Underneath that was a hoodie, with presumably another layer underneath. This would take a while. Sighing, Marinette pulled away and threw aside the scraps of material. There didn’t seem to be any blood on him, but she would have to keep going to be sure. After the hoodie came a long sleeve shirt and a tank-top, and he was left coated in bandages from the waist up. He was swaddled like a damn mummy, oddly enough. He had mentioned Auntie Talia...could she have? No, Great-Uncle Ras would never allow some random outsider or underling to be bathed in the pits, he was far too possessive for that.

Right as she started cutting upwards from the hem of the man’s pant legs, he sat bolt right up, gasping. He saw her and scrambled backwards, while Mari just raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him.

“Where am I?” He demanded, eyes darting around the living room.

“Relax, my name is Marinette, and you’re in Paris, in my penthouse. I found you outside, you collapsed. My guards and I brought you in. I started cutting away your clothes so that I could assess you for injuries. I believe you’ve had some experience with my Auntie Talia and her League, and she sent you to find me. She would have said to find ‘she who rises’. It’s the meaning of my name, Marinette. Now, please sit down. I’m not armed, and I don’t intend to harm you. Look, you can pat me down if you need to make sure I’m not armed at all.” The man gave her a wary look, before taking a deep breath and sitting back down on the couch, perched on the very edge of the cushion. Good, Auntie Talia had instilled him with some preservation instincts.

“So, Auntie? I’m going to assume you’re related to Ras and Damain, then.”

“Not at all.” Marinette scoffed. “My family runs the Parisian Triad, and all future heads are trained by the League for a year and a day. Ras trained my mother at the same time as Talia was beginning to train. They consider themselves sisters, making Talia my Auntie. I am, however, Damian’s godmother. He’s a sweet boy, once you put aside the homicidal tendencies. Are you hungry? I can have the place across the street, the one you were staking out, run us some food. Anything specific you want? Their ravioli is to die for.”

“That would...that would be great. I’ll eat anything.” The man (who looked to be around her age, late twenties) seemed caught off guard by her kindness.

“So, it appears you have me at a disadvantage. You know my name, but I don’t know yours.” Marinette commented, texting James, the head chef of Nona Gina’s to bring over her usual plus a plate of ravioli.

“My name is Jason. So, you mentioned the Parisian Triad.”

“Yup. My Mama is the current head, I have a year and a half before I take over. Tradition states I become head on my twenty-fifth birthday.”

“Any chance you’re looking for a new body guard? I’m gonna need to find a job, and I can guarantee that I’m good.” Marinette paused, thinking for a moment. Both her guards were more than adequate, but Bobby had come to her last week, and asked to be transferred to a more sedate job, as his wife (Laura, a lovely woman) had just birthed their third child, and he wanted a little more time off. Jason, on one hand, was likely League trained, and probably had no where else to go. On the other hand, he was a complete unknown, and it would be a week at least before she would be able to contact Auntie Talia and have a response as to whether the man was telling the truth. Well, Bridgette always said she was too soft.

“Good news for you is, I am. You can start as soon as the family doctor looks you over and gives you a clean bill of health. The issue is, what will your cover be?”

“Er, cover?” Jason asked.

“I’m going to need an excuse to suddenly have a random guy escorting me all over Paris, and it’s not exactly common knowledge that I’m the next head of the Triad. I’m also something of a public figure here in Paris.” Marinette blushed at the reminder. Her brand, MDC, had taken off not long after she graduated, thanks to Jagged bragging about her at every turn. “I mean,” she snorted. “we could go the route of claiming you’re my boyfriend or something.” Giggling, Marinette stood and made her way towards her room. “Try to think of something, while I grab a quick shower. I can’t stand family meetings.” Leaving Jason seated on the couch, lost in thought, Marinette shut her door behind her and fired off a quick text to the number saved as “Auntie T’ in her main phone, before grabbing a pair of pajamas from her walk in and heading to the attached bathroom. She had some thinking to do.

[ladye11e]

Deception pt 3

The conflict between the Assassins and the Templars is getting out of hand. Lies, deceit and subterfuge, now you must pick a side...

Tagging the wonderful @geekgoddess813 and the amazing @sweet-flash 😍😍

Link to the full fic so far is here 😊

"Gaaaaaaaaah!"

Literally banging your head against the doorframe of the security office when the computer simulation had finished and detected yet another blind spot in the cameras, you scowled at Connor when he sat there chuckling at you.

"Do not do that (name), that door is new."

Sticking your tongue out and collapsing in the chair next to him, you grabbed the keyboard and began rewinding the video so you could see how many degrees the camera needed turning again.

"We've been at this for half a week, when's Altaïr coming back?!"

You let out a heavy sigh when he leaned back and shrugged his shoulders, then grimaced when he picked up his glass and finished it's bright green contents in one swallow.

"Urgh, how can you drink that? It smells like pureed weeds."

"Wheatgrass is very good for you (name), it keeps the body and mind clear. You should try it sometime."

"No thank you, I'll stick to the good stuff." You mumbled as you picked up your coffee cup, spitting the mouthful straight back into it when you found it stone cold.

"Three degrees to the right. Your turn Connor."

Shooing him away when he started to grumble about how it was definitely not his turn to adjust the wretched thing, the second he was out of sight you brought up all eleven working cameras, memorising their new positions in the manor. Any information to help Shay steal that ugly necklace would be hugely beneficial, the only upside at being given this infuriating task. Satisfied that you could remember them all, you closed the window and brought the one back up to the camera you were working on, leaving Connor none the wiser as he walked back through the door.

"Try now."

Jamming the enter button with your thumb, you tapped your fingers on the desk irratably as you waited for the program to taunt you again with another failure.

"By the way, I forgot to ask. What's this party for? It didn't say on the email."

"Achilles birthday of course! He insisted that he did not want to make a fuss, but it is his 70th, and also, I think everyone's spirits could do with lifting, do you not think?"

Giggling when he sat bouncing in his chair like an excited child, you had to agree that everyone had been in a slump recently. You were partly to blame for that, just when the Assassins thought they were getting the upperhand for once, the Templars quickly stepped in and snatched whatever advantage they thought they might have had from right under their noses, mostly from information you were feeding them. You did feel a pang of guilt at betraying your friends, but when you found out that Duncan Walpole was torturing innocents for information a few years ago; and the other Master Assassins knew about it but decided to let him get away with it, that's when you decided you were working for the wrong side. The Assassins had become desperate, all morals starting to fly out of the window and going completely against everything that you believed in.

Snapping out of your thoughts when the computer pinged that it had finished it's diagnosis, you punched the air and whooped when it finally said that the interior was completely under watch. Making a quick mental note of the last cameras position, you grabbed your bag and slung it over your shoulder, much to Connor's surprise.

"Where are you going (name)?"

"I don't live here remember? Three whole days, I need my own bed."

It was partly the truth, in seven months you had only slept at your place once, but the main reason was to get back the the Mandarin Oriental and hand over the pin, plus draw down the new designs of the Homestead before lethargy made you forget. It was close to midnight when you finally arrived at the hotel, much to the annoyance of the valet who was just about to clock off for the evening. Scoffing and storming past the concierge into the lift when he whispered something about 'working guests are not allowed', you suddenly realised that Shay didn't know that you were on your way. Figuring it was too late to warn him now, you sluggishly dragged yourself down the hall and knocked softly on the door, only just surpressing your smirk when he answered wearing just a pair of sweatpants.

"Don't you ever get dressed? Or am I just special?" You chuckled as you walked in, suddenly feeling a bit more awake.

"I would have made an effort lass, had I known ya were coming. Then again, maybe not?"

Biting the inside of your lip when he gave you a knee weakening look, the corner of your mouth twitched when you saw that he had realised that you didn't embarrass so easily after all, given the now slightly determined expression on his face. What was going on in your mind however was a different story, and not something you planned on revealing anytime soon.

"So, managed to drag yourself away then? Not that I'm complaining, but what's so important that it couldn't wait till the morning?"

"Beer. Pad. Pencil. In that order if you would be so kind Mr Cormac."

Grinning as you took off your hoodie and kicked off your shoes, you dropped down onto the sofa and wiggled about on it, enjoying it's softness compared to the desk chairs you've been sat on for the past few days.

"One beer, one pad, one pencil, in that order, ma'am."

Taking the beer and swallowing half its contents in one go; much to Shays amusement, you placed it down and brought the pad up onto your knees, sketching the floorplan hastily on the paper.

"Ya gonna tell me what you're drawing?"

Shay sat down next to you with his own bottle in hand, cocking his head to try and see over your arm and what you were actually doing.

"A unicorn." You scoffed, giggling slighty as you took in Shays bemused expression. "I'm not joking. A mythical thing that doesn't exist apparently?"

You turned the pad to show him a plan of the second level of the manor, something that even the Grand Master of the Templar's couldn't obtain. It was quickly drawn, but accurate enough to be useful in your next task.

"This my dear Shay, is our way in. I made sure that there are no camera's pointing towards the door of Achilles office, so that should give you more time. Let's just hope they don't spot it and change it. Did you get the signal?"

"Well played lass, you've done a grand job. Yes we got it, it's been analysed and we've found out what kind of vault it is, someone else is workin' on the voice recognition bit that we're also gonna need."

Your brow furrowed slightly at the thought of someone else sneaking into the manor, but brushed it off as you knew that Achilles voice was easily gotten recently with all the planning and phone conversations he's been doing. Handing Shay the pad and taking a small fob off him so you could examine it, you noticed it wouldn't go amiss on a set of car keys, so would be easily smuggled into the party.

"It's good. You have till the morning to get that memorised, then it's ash. Understand?"

"Aye. Oh, Master Kenway told me to give ya this, get something nice to wear to the ball."

Shay pulled out a usual velvet bag from his pants pocket and handed it to you, a glimmer of a smile creeping up your face when you tipped out it's contents to reveal a miniature gold bar, easily sold for several thousand dollars.

"So you and Kenway...?"

"No!" You blurted out a little too quickly when you clicked onto what he was getting at, looking up at him to see him slyly smirking at what you had just said.

"Um, no. We're just friends."

"Ah I see. When a man gives a woman something like that, he wants to be a bit more than just friends lass."

"Yeah I know." You mumbled as you slipped the gold back into its bag and tucked it into your jeans.

Yawning and stretching out to try and make yourself more alert for the drive home, you let out a small cry and grabbed your shoulder when the muscle spasmed up, cursing as you tried to relieve the crick in your neck.

"Move forward."

"What?"

Shay finished off the last of his beer and placed the bottle on the table in front of him, then slid behind you and used his legs to shuffle you forwards so he could sit behind you fully. Your mouth formed a small 'o' when he began massaging your shoulder and neck, wincing slightly when he rubbed his thumb along the tightened muscle.

"God yer tense lass, you work too much. So not Master Kenway, but surely you've got a fella that's gonna be pissed that you're going with me to the fancy do and not him?"

Your eyelids had drifted closed as your neck began to feel better with each pass of his hand, but you soon snapped them open and rolled your eyes when you knew what he was probing at.

"No fella, haven't had for years. I prefer it that way."

"How come? I've been the same, but not through choice. I'm supposed to be dead remember."

Sniggering at his comment, your eyes closed again when he moved to the other side of your neck, wondering if you wanted to reveal more details about your life. It was nice to have a conversation that wasn't about work for a change, and you weren't about to stop him from rubbing your shoulders whatever his intentions, so you chose to carry on.

"Had a couple of relationships, the first was with a civilian who knew nothing about what we do. Don't think that needs any more explaining? The last, well he is an Assassin, but when I started working for the Templars... There's only so much lying and sneaking one can do before the other has had enough of it. So, less drama this way."

Feeling more than drowsy due to your lack of sleep and rather amazing neck rub from Shay, you snapped your head up when you realised that you had almost nodded off, earning you a soft chuckle from the man behind you.

"Come on lass, you're not going anywhere tonight. You're lucky I don't mind sharin' a bed."

Looking up groggily when he slid one arm under your legs and the other around your shoulders; picking you up and carrying you to his bedroom, you barely registered him dropping you down on the soft pillows, pulling the duvet over you.

"Thank you, Shay." You mumbled, already half asleep.

"No problem. Hope ya don't snore?"

Giggling gently and tucking the duvet under your chin when you felt him climb into the bed next to you, you shook your head as you spoke, your words barely more than a tired whisper.

"No, I don't.... you're awfully sweet for a Templar.... nice ass too...." Was the last thing to pass your lips as you fell into a deep sleep.

 Fluttering your eyes open when a crack of light warmed your face through the curtains, you sat up with a start and checked your watch when you thought you'd missed your code; sighing and rubbing your face when it was only just after eight. Glancing to the other side of the bed and noticing it was empty, you dragged yourself up and plodded towards the living room when the smell of fresh brewed coffee and bacon tickled your nose. Your stomach began growling when you spied the spread on the table; toast and jam, bacon and eggs, platters of fruit, and of course, lots of caffiene. Shay peered over the newspaper he was reading when he heard you come in, confusing you slightly when he dropped it down onto the table with a rather seductive grin.

"Morning lass, sleep alright? Help yourself to breakfast, didn't know what you liked so ordered a bit of everything."

"Yes, thank you again for letting me stay. Something funny?"

Sliding onto the chair next to him and grabbing a slice of bacon, you chewed on it thoughtfully as you stared at him out of the corner of your eye, wondering what the cause was for his amusement.

"Ah nothing important. Ya got anything to do today? We could do with making a plan of what were doing once we get inside the manor, and I was wondering if you could pick something up for me?"

"Such as?"

Helping yourself to a cup of coffee and a slice of toast, you held the bread between your teeth as you got up and rummaged through your bag for your phone, entering your code before checking your emails and schedule. As you weren't expected back from Russia until later this week; your constant nagging at Shaun making him work extra hard so he could be rid of you, so your next two days were event and mission free. Though the thought of being an errand girl didn't vastly appeal, spending the day lounging about with nothing to do was equally unattractive.

"Something I can't send the concierge out for, let's put it that way. So, you free for a bit?"

Nodding when you stuffed the remainder of the slice in your mouth and coughed as you swallowed it a bit too hard, you pulled your hoodie on and grabbed your bag, desperately needing at least a shower and a clean set of clothes before you spent the day planning anything.

"Yep, going home to change first, I can pick up whatever you need on the way."

"You could freshen up here if ya like, can send your stuff out to be cleaned?" He said hopefully as he handed you a slip of paper with an address on it, along with a small brass key.

Your eyes narrowed slightly as you wondered why he wanted you to stay so much, thinking it was rather presumptuous of him that you would actually want to be naked and wet in the next room. He wasn't wrong, you'd actually thought about it on more than one occasion but that would only be stoking a fire that you didn't want burning at this moment in time, so you decided against it.

"That's okay, there's a few other bits I need to do as well. Who's Finnegan?"

The address on the note was one that you knew well, it was an old pawn shop in the back streets of Boston, somewhere you actually planned on going today to sell the gold you had been given from Haytham. Shay had obviously noticed your apprehension at his suggestion, as he all of a sudden felt the need to explain why he had said it.

"A couple I know who hid a few things for safe keeping. The boss was wrong, there are a couple of people who know I'm alive but they don't know where I am. When I asked if ya wanted to stay I didn't mean anything by it, just nice to have someone to talk to other than Master Kenway. Was kinda hoping we could be friends as well as work together."

Even though you had just decided not to persue the man, you couldn't help a pang of disappointment as you watched him get up and open the front door for you.

"I'd like that. You seem like a decent bloke, maybe when you're done hiding in the shadows we could go out for a drink."

"Kind of you to say love, I'm not just a nice ass ya know."

Turning around wide eyed to see him give you a cheeky wink before closing the door behind you, you now realised what he had found so amusing this morning. You had actually said that out loud?! You remembered thinking it just before you drifted off last night, and mentally scolded yourself for your lack of brain-mouth barrier putting you in an embarrassing situation yet again.

 Pulling up outside 'Wynerts Pawn Shop', you scowled and waited a few minutes as you spotted two Templar hired guns walk inside. Even though the infamous Ned Wynert didn't work in this particular store, his rules were legendary, and his employees were to enforce them by any means necessary. The man was neither friend nor foe, completely neutral in accommdating both Assassin and Templar needs, and there was under no circumstances to be any conflict in or within the vicinity of any of his shops. After lengthy debating, both sides had eventually agreed.

After several minutes of waiting you became impatient and headed inside, glancing over the shelves of the numerous trinkets and knick knacks; including several hefty weapons while you waited for the clerk to be finished with his customers. You stood there defiantly when one of them turned around and immediately noticed who you were, thanks to the insignia on your hoodie that you had forgotten to take off. Clenching your fist when he slyly pushed his jacket to the side to reveal a holster and a 9mm Glock, a smirk creased your face when you heard the unmistakable cocking of a shotgun from behind him, making him turn around quickly.

"You know the rules. Get out, while you can still walk."

Stepping to the side when both the men glared at you and ran out before they got into even more trouble and lost a limb, you approached the counter with a cheery smile as the cashier returned his gun to under the counter.

"Templars, always so highly strung. What can I do for you today (name)?"

"Morning Marc. What will you give me for this?"

Handing over the small bag that you tugged out of your pocket, you fiddled with your cuff while you waited for him to weigh and examine the precious metal, then slide over his ledger to log the takings.

"Eighteen hundred. That's not up for negotiation either, the price of gold has dropped."

You nodded somberly in acceptance of his offer knowing that there was nowhere else you could take it around here, plus you had less than a week to buy some kind of a dress for the party. Stuffing the wad of money into a hidden compartment in your bag, you pulled out the key that Shay had given to you and placed it gingerly on the counter, much to his surprise.

"Need to pick up something too, it's under the name 'Finnegan'."

Flinching when he leaned under the counter to press something and the door automatically locked; the shutters rolling down and plunging the store into near darkness with a clang, you were now more than slightly baffled as he gestured for you to follow him to the back of the shop, grabbing the key and blinking a few times to readjust your eyes to the brightly lit corridor. Hesitantly entering an almost sparce, vault like room that had nearly two dozen locked metal doors inset on the walls after he punched in a lengthy code into the keypad on the wall, you slid Shays key in the left hand slot of one of the security boxes when he pulled out a ring of keys and slotted one into the right hand side, both of you turning them at the exact same time.

Marc left the room and closed the door behind him without saying a single word, only giving you a simple nod as the hinges creaked and revealed what you had come here to collect. Tugging out a rather old, but well crafted wooden chest and setting it down on the small table behind you, you traced your fingers over the intricate carvings as you debated on whether you should open it or not. Your decision was made for you when you tried to lift the lid but it wouldn't budge, and you could see no way of opening it without ripping the top off its hinges. Retrieving the key from the door and tucking the chest under your arm, you made your way back to the front of the shop, still baffled at what could be so important that it would be locked away like this.

[spinach-productions]

Baby Spinach, chapter 9

Summary: Why are secret lairs always in the last place you expect?

Wordcount: 3349

They swing by the facility for Gaster's research, which was too extensive to be packed with the rest of his things.  “You're out awful late,” says the dog on guard duty.  Most of the Royal Guard seems to be made of dogs.

“I'm having a hard time sleeping,” Gaster replies shakily.

“That's right, you're usually at home by this time.”  The guard hands back Gaster's badge with a sympathetic look. “We'll find them, doctor.  There's nothing the Royal Guard hates more than lost puppies.”

Gaster heroically does not point out that he's in the middle of finding Sans and Papyrus on his own.  “Wait,” he says as the guard begins to turn around, “Could you tell me about the case? Has there been any progress?”

The guard cocks his head to one side.  “Didn't you see Lieutenant Donahue just this evening?”

“I-I did, but I was hoping there had been a development since then...?”

He gives what Gaster suspects is meant to be a supportive smile, but falls slightly short due to the tongue still sticking out the corner of his mouth.  “If there are any changes, we'll let you know,” the Guard says, laying a gentle paw on Gaster's shoulder.

Gaster pats the paw a few times, thanks the guard, and stiffly crosses the bridge into the main entrance hall.

Several steps past the main reception desk (manned only by a stack of information pamphlets due to the late hour), Imposter Donahue falls into step next to him. He's now wearing the official Royal Guard uniform, though Gaster would be hard pressed to guess where he got one. “Nice job distracting the dog.”

“I don't care for subterfuge,” Gaster says sharply.  He makes a point of telling the truth and staying out of trouble because he is not good at it.

“Then don't think of it that way,” Not-Donahue says with a grin, “Think of it as the first step towards out collaboration, and believe me, doctor, you'll find what comes next to be worth the difficulties.”

The take the side corridors to Gaster's office.  He painfully notes that these are the same routes he used to take with the children.  While the lab is open all hours to accommodate its employee's variety of schedules, few people work this late; the halls are quiet aside from the florescent lights and humming climate control system.

His office is at one end of the supervisor's wing.  They collect Gaster's research, then head back into the hallway. “Where are we going,” Gaster asks as he relocks the door.

“Patience,” the imposter says, “We'll get there soon.”

“It would help if I had some idea of our destination.”

“I don't see how that's relevent to anyth—”

“Well, hello there Lieutenant,” says someone  Gaster's metaphorical circulatory system begins to run cold. He turns; the well-meaning intern is standing at the other end of the hall, where he has no idea what kind of complications he's just .

“Donahue,” he corrects faintly.

“And Doctor Gaster, good evening!  I thought you'd already gone home for the evening.”

Not-Donahue cocks an eyebrow in Gaster's direction.  The expression reads take care of this, or I will.

“I, ah. Forgot some things,” he says, gesturing to the notebooks and binders in his arms.

The intern eyes the stack.  “Planning to work from home for a while?”  He asks with a sympathetic tone.

Despite the situation, Gaster notes that he can now recognize sympathy in many different forms.  Later, he'll pat himself on the back for the sharpening of his social observational skills; now, he scrambles for some kind of explanation as to why he's leaving the facility with classified information that will also give Not-Donahue a reason to keep from speaking.  “It's a more comfortable environment,” he says desperately.  The weight of his papers keeps his hands from shaking too badly, but they're still rattling quietly against the binders.

“Do you want help carrying those?”  The intern asks.

“No,” Gaster blurts out, “Ah, no thank you.  I think the Lieutenant and I have it covered.”

Not-Donahue seems amused by the Gaster's fumbling.  He takes half the stack, balancing it on one hand like a serving tray, and gives a thumbs-up with his free hand.

“Apparently you do,” the intern says with a smile, “Well, I'll let you get on with your work.”

Gaster heaves a sigh of relief.

“Oh wait, one more thing.  Lieutenant, your niece was looking for—”

“Donnie?”

Gaster slowly turns to look down the other end of the hall.  Silohouetted dramatically in the light from the perpendicular hallway is a young, aquatic girl with blue skin and red hair.  She's wearing a dirty t-shirt and overalls, and bears enough resemblance with Donahue to suggest a familial tie.

The girl grins widely, revealing extremely familiar teeth.

“H-hello,” Gaster says in a shaky voice, “What's your—”

The girl launches herself down the hallway.  It's faster than he can react, but Gaster still see the actions in slow motion: the girl darting past him towards the imposter, those enormous sharp teeth unhinging.  Not-Donahue takes as step back as he realizes what's about to happen, but is still too late to stop Donahue's niece from leaping into the air and clamping down on his arm.

He yells in pain and surprise, and starts flailing in an attempt to dislodge the girl's teeth from his skin.  The force makes he let go, and she tumbles backwards across the floor as the imposter tosses Gaster's research to the side and slaps a hand over the wound.

The binders he was holding crash to the ground.  The intern looks confused.  Donahue's niece blinks up at him from the floor.  Her eyes narrow.

“You don't sound like Donnie,” she says.

The imposter grabs Gaster's wrist and sprints down the hallway, sending Gaster's own stack of papers clattering behind them.  He leaps over the girl and careens around the corner, taking Gaster with him as they veer sharply across the tiles.  “Idiot,” he yells as they barrel down the hallway.

“What?” Gaster shouts back.

“Why didn't you do something?

“What could I have possibly done?!”

“Something!  Anything!  Do you realize what's happened?”  They take two right turns, then run past a series of meeting rooms.  “That brat is going to tell her aunt that someone who looked exactly like her was walking around with you.”  They dash past an intersection, then do a swerving u-turn and run back to it.  The man is still holding Gaster's arm tightly; Donahue's niece managed to bite down on the outside of his forearm, puncturing the cloth the holds the armor pieces together.  Blood is already seeping through the resulting holes in the fabric.  “She's going to put that together with whatever you told her about our meeting two days ago, Gaster.  The jig is up.”

“We have a head start,” Gaster says, trailing after the imposter as he navigates the facility, “We can still work together—”

“Of course we can,” the imposter snarls, “But this wasn't the plan.”

Gaster has no idea what the plan could be, but it apparently involved skidding to a stop in front of the dangerous materials laboratory.  To his astonishment, the man produces a key card with a high enough security clearance to get them inside; he locks the door after them and, still firmly gripping Gaster's arm, marches them past the determination experiments to some disused equipment in the back corner of the room.

“She really got me,” he hisses, pressing down on the wound with the other hand. “Help me move this.”

They wrestle the old equipment out of the way, leaving a clear space on the floor. The imposter begins counting tiles in some kind of pattern, stopping in front of one that looks no different from the others.  He knocks on it.  Apparently satisfied with whatever he hears, he brings his foot down on one side of the tile.

With a sound like heavy stone grinding against heavier stone, the other side of the tile flips up, revealing a long, dark tunnel leading under the floor of the lab. A ladder is mounted against one wall. The imposter looks up at Gaster and grins.

“Please,” he says, gesturing into the hole, “After you.”

-

Gaster has seen the blueprints for the Royal Science Laboratories, and he's certain this tunnel leading down into the earth should not be here.  Yet here he is, descending a ladder into the depths of the facility with a man who murdered a human child and then proceeded to chip off two piece of his own soul to make more children.  Gaster firmly shoves these ideas to the side and continues downward.

The bottom of the ladder connects with a dark green floor.  The room is narrow but long, and the opposite wall is occupied by several large standing closets.  A door with an ominous looking lock is carved into the far size.

The imposter skips the last rung of the ladder and lands on the tile.  “Sorry for the delay, I had to cover our tracks.”

Gaster doesn't know how he did this from inside the tunnel, but nods as though he understands.

Not-Donahue sheds the Royal Guard armor and places it in one of the cabinets.  On closer inspection, each one is is filled to the brim with outfits: Gaster spots the Royal Laboratories' official labcoat, several sets of training gear, a suit, and a number of other clothes he can't identify because they're crammed together into a mess of fabric.  The imposter pulls a plain labcoat and a large shirt from the fray.  At the same time, he appears to be decreasing in mass; Donahue's vibrant read hair disappears, replaced with two reptilian crests that run along his head.  The aquatic coloring fades into pale green scales, and a set of hair-thin spines appear down the sides of his neck.  The final form seems to be some kind of lizard, only an inch shorter than Gaster himself.

The imposter pulls on the shirt, which sits on his frame like a tunic.  “I debated about whether or not to let you see my form,” he says, shrugging on the labcoat, “But then I remembered that you wouldn't dare compromise my boys by revealing the information.”

The threat hangs heavily between them.  The imposter grins.  He has many small, triangular teeth.

Gaster clears his throat awkwardly.  He learned to produce the noise for situations exactly like this. “Well.”

The man continues to grin as he extracts several keys from his pockets.

He flicks on a light switch.  Ceiling lights flicker a few times before they buzz to life, filling the space with dim light.

The room they reveal is, undoubtable, a laboratory.

There are several movable lab benches arranged into a row, each with its own lamp to make up for the inadequate overhead lights. Papers and tools are scattered messily across the tables, in some cases spilling over the edge to form piles on the floor.  Several hallways connect this room to what must be the rest of the base; some have doors, some of those doors have locks.  Bookcases crammed with materials are placed wherever there’s space, creating a furniture maze through the room.  At the center of the maze, which is off to one side of the room, is an open space dominated by a large ominous cylinder.  It’s surrounded with monitoring equipment that looks like a large electrocardiograph, but the cylinder itself is covered with a thick drop cloth.  Gaster can see a faint blue glow leaking under the edges.

He feels faintly ill.

“Welcome to my workspace,” the man says, gesturing to the setup.  “I would have neatened things if there was more time.”

“It’s lovely,” Gaster lies.

“Thank you!  It’s the result of ten years of forced isolation.”

“How did you even find this place?  Let alone gain access to it?”

The imposter looks affronted.  Gaster is fairly certain this is an exaggerated expression.  “Why doctor, I’m surprised!  Don’t you remember the young professor who had an office across the hall from your ten years ago?”

Gaster comes up with a vague memory.  “The one who stole containment equipment before the added security measures were put into place?”

The man grins widely a second time.

“You needed the containment units for this,” Gaster says as the pieces come together, “You already had the soul.”

“This day has been a long time coming,” he replies, clasping his hands together.  “A few more short years and we’ll see to it that the barrier is destroyed for good.”

Something makes a noise.  Gaster tears his eyes from what’s probably a human soul to see two small eyes peering at him around a shelf.  He sprints around the bookcase to find a second, smaller area between the furniture.  A familiar playpen sits in the center, and next to two small pillows is Papyrus. He’s wearing the same red onesie as the day he disappeared, but otherwise seems no worse for wear.  “I was so worried,” Gaster murmurs, scooping him into his arms.

Papyrus looks up at him, then over his shoulder to his father, then back to Gaster.  He looks increasingly confused and upset, and begins to pat his own face in reassurance.

“Shh, it’s alright,” Gaster soothes, gently bouncing the baby in his arms, “I’ve got you.”

The imposter clears his throat.  “I apologize for borrowing your child containment space, but I’m sure you understand that I need it more than you do right now.”

“Of course,” Gaster says without commitment. “May I ask where Sans is?”

“He’s grounded,” the man says, waving a hand as if this is of no consequence, “Until he learns to handle his responisibilities in ways other than running away with his brother.”

“Of course,” Gaster says with even less commitment.

Another moment passes before he speaks again. “Well, as I was saying, welcome to my home.  This is the main laboratory, where you and I will conduct research the human soul specimen.”

“It’s… very functional,” Gaster says, holding Papyrus close as he continues to pat his own face.

“Thank you kindly, doctor.  Ah, where are my manners?  May I offer you something to drink before we get started?”

“Yes, thank you,” Gaster replies, jumping on the opportunity to see more of the base.  He follows the man down one corridor and into a room that serves as a fantastic example of how not to clean a kitchen: the counters are covered in food stains and leftovers, the sink is stacked high with dishes, and there are garbage bags piled up in the corner.  If he had a nose, Gaster is sure it would be unhappy.

“Please excuse the mess,” the man says absently, setting the water on the table and holding his arms out for Papyrus.

“Why don’t I put Papyrus down for a nap, so we can discuss the details of your work,” Gaster says, holding Papyrus tight to his chest.  “We don’t need a toddler getting underfoot for that.  I assume he has a designated sleeping area?”

After a moment of thought, the imposter agrees. The nursery turns out to be one of the closed doors branching off from the main room; the man unlocks it and Gaster steps into what seems like an empty room.  There’s an off-white carpet, a crib, and one shelf with a few books; otherwise, the room is completely barren.

“This is certainly one type of nursery,” Gaster says to himself.

Luckily, the crib has a mattress and blankets.  He reluctantly tucks Papyrus in with a whispered promise to come back for him later.

Papyrus refuses to let go of Gaster’s coat.

“I know, I know,” Gaster says, tugging at Papyrus’ tiny hands, “But I have to find your brother before I can get you out of here.”

Papyrus whines as Gaster pries his fingers open.

“Shh,” he comforts.  He arranges the blankets into a circle and tucks Papyrus in at the center. “I’ll be back soon.”

Gaster left home to pursue a career in science, leaving his family and familial obligations behind.  He’s participated in strategic war planning that involved dozens of human deaths, and he’s watched corporeal friends and colleagues wither from old age.  But none of these are as difficult as walking away from Papyrus as he whimpers to himself in an empty room.

-

 -

Several hours listening to the man’s explanations later, Gaster manages to convince him that, as the guest, Gaster should be the one to make dinner this evening, and that even though he may be barred from leaving his room (apparently for any reason, including food up until this point), a merciful father would be willing to grant Sans his supper.

As such, Gaster manages to cobble together some sandwiches from stale bread and old condiments.  Sans’ room turns out to be another branching off the main room. Unsurprisingly, the door is locked and requires several keys to open.  After some more cajoling, he manages to get the keys from the imposter and eases the door open with his elbow.  

The room shows only slightly more forethought than Papyrus’ nursery in that it has a desk in addition to shelves and a bed. The shelves are filled with books, varying in subject from children’s literature to high-level scientific explanations.  There don’t seem to be any intermediary texts.  Sans is sitting on the bed, reading a book.  He looks up when the door opens and freezes when he sees Gaster standing there.

He’s also wearing the same clothes he disappeared in, but where Papyrus seems to have suffered no further injuries, Sans has a medical pad taped over one eye socket.

“Hi,” he says cautiously.

Gaster takes a breath to calm the emotions ricocheting in his chest.  “Hello, Sans,” Gaster replies, “Are you alright?”

Sans froms with what looks like distrust.  “How are you doing that?”

“Doing what?”

“Changing your voice.  You sound like the other guy.”

The man in the next room can change his shape at will, of course Sans wouldn’t trust him at first.  “First, though I don’t expect you believe me at this time, I am not your father.  Second, I object to you calling me ‘the other guy’, but I see your point.  What happened to your eye?”

Sans shrugs and doesn’t answer.  He’s clearly taken up Gaster’s invitation to not believe him.

They watch each other.

“I brought sandwiches,” Gaster says, holding up the tray. “I made sandwiches.”

Sans’ one visible eye narrows.

“This one is for you.  It’s mostly ketchup.”

“You could just ask me to get up,” Sans grumbles, marking the page in his book and setting it aside.

“What?”  Sans refusing to eat dinner until he was certain the food wasn’t drugged— “Oh!  No, that isn’t what I meant at all,” Gaster says quickly, setting the tray on the bed, “What was it what was it— ah!  Point to any part of the sandwich, that’s right!”

Sans stares at him.  Slowly, without breaking eye contact, he extends an arm and touches the exact middle of the bread.

Gaster has to tear the sandwich in half to get at the middle, but manages to eat the indicated section.  The real struggle is getting past the knowledge he’s eating ketchup, but for Sans, he’ll do it.

“Dings?”  Sans asks faintly.

Gaster wipes a smear of hellish tomato from the corner of his mouth and gives a thumbs up.

Sans reaches out to touch Gaster’s arm.  When it doesn’t disappear under his hand, his visible eye wells up with tears.

Gaster opens his arms in invitation.  “May I offer— oof.”

Sans collides with Gaster’s torso and grabs on with both hands.  “Dad didn’t catch you, did he?”

“No,” Gaster replies, holding Sans tight to his chest, “I came with him to find you. I’m going to get you out of here.”

“There’s no way out,” Sans says from where he’s pressed his face to Gaster’s sweater.

“There is, and I will find it.  I will get us out,” Gaster promises.

[acoolguyscoollife]

Chapter 7: The Under-World

The simulation pretty much got the world right, with the smell at least. The entirety of The Under-World is set in an underground society, partially created from a sewer system that the inhabitants ended up turning into their own society when they began building places to live. The whole story, at its core, was an allegory for segregation and separating based on political views, but thankfully, it wasn’t too heavy handed, as this wasn’t exactly something I found entertaining, and this game was one of my favourites. Favourite game or not, however, the fact that I was most definitely ankle deep in shit was not a good thing.

“Oh jesus, I would have thought we’d have been put somewhere else!” Tabitha cried, causing me to look back at her. I had begun to look back forward before the image of her actually reached my brain, and my head whipped back around to look at her again. Her ragged lab coat had been replaced with a smaller, white coat that stuck out like a sore thumb in the dankness of the sewers, though was pristine all the same. The rest of us were still wearing the same outfits, thankfully, as I didn’t want to lose my jacket. It was important to me, as I felt it basically completed my look.

“Tab’, what are you wearing?” I asked, and Seth and Amy glanced over at her too. “When did you even change into that?” She looked down for a moment, then back up, as confused as I was.

“I… didn’t change it. I’m not sure what happened, maybe something to do with my innate magic passing through my outfit?” She replied, looking it over. “Though I have to say, it feels and looks pretty nice. I might just keep it.” She added, shrugging slightly. For some reason, this made me a little uncomfortable, but I wasn’t entirely sure why. Something about the stark white clothes, plus my admittedly faded memories of this game made my hair stand on end. A quick look over to Amy said that she felt it too, but for whatever reason, neither of us knew why. With a grimace, I pulled my feet out of the sewer water and onto dry land, groaning aloud as I saw the state my shoes were in. They were absolutely caked in mud, and pretty much ruined. Even if this was just a simulation, I still wasn’t happy with it, but what could I do? There was going to be a lot more sewer walking in the future, so I had to just grit my teeth and deal with it. Speaking of sewer walking, the four of us began our trek down one of the pipes, none of us actually sure where it would lead, but happy to just get out of this cramped area all the same.

“Why do you two like this game, anyway?” Seth asked, directed at Amy and myself. Tabitha had never played it, I knew that much, and while I had pestered Seth to get into it a long time ago, he never had.

“It’s an adventure about an outsider, who finds his way into a society of those who’d be deemed unworthy!” Amy said, almost hopping over to us, buzzing with excitement. “Romance, intrigue, subterfuge, the game has it all!” Seth just shrugged in response, but I pressed further.

“Wait, when was there romance in The Under-World?” I asked, and Amy smiled a coy smile.

“If you talk to the prince, or princess, of the realm right, you can take a path of romance where everyone wins at the end of the game, since your character gets to not leave. It’s a very PG ending, but… well, that’s what mods are for.” Amy’s smile was a little unnerving, but at the same time, it was still the same friend I’d always had, so seeing her like this was just something I laughed at nowadays.

“Ames, you are such a perv.” I said, and she pouted, folding her arms as we continued walking.

“Am not, I just think love is beautiful, in all of its forms, and sexual gratification is an amazing way of sharing love.” She replied, causing me to stop in my tracks for a second.

“Whoa, getting a little real there, huh Amy?” Seth said, and she let out a small laugh. “Got anything else you wanna tell us, while you’re confessing your sins?” Amy raised a middle finger at him, still laughing.

“Oh knock it off, Seth, you’re one to talk, you vanilla bitchbaby.” She replied, and it was Seth’s turn to pout and fold his arms. “I just feel like sharing love is important, and sex is healthy. Mods that help put that in my games are good, it adds a dose of reality to them.” Amy added, and Seth shrugged again.

“Whatever floats your boat, man. You do you, that’s the best way to operate in life.” Seth replied, and Amy grinned, flashing her white teeth that shone in the dim light from above.

“Honestly, I can completely understand your mentality now, Amy. Before now, I had suspected that you were polyamorous, but I wasn’t sure if I should say anything about it because… well, you know, when you assume, and whatnot.” Tabitha said, who had been walking on the other side of the flowing river of waste, but still close enough to hear the entire conversation.

“What’s polyamorous mean?” Amy asked, as the four of us rounded a corner at an intersection without even needing to ask each other which way we were going to go. Hopping across to the other side almost resulted in me faceplanting into the water, but Tabitha’s magic caught me before I could, hoisting me by the back of my pants.

“What? How can you not-” Seth began, but Tabitha shushed him, flashing him a frown in the dull light.

“Polyamorous means that you have multiple partners, kind of like an open relationship, but actively dating and loving multiple people.” Tabitha explained, and Amy nodded along to her every word, listening intently.

“That… makes so much sense.” Amy breathed when Tabitha was finished talking. “Low-key, that was a legitimate revelation as to my personality.” She added, confirming that she was being sincere, as her first sentence had the atmosphere of dry sarcasm that I knew she was fond of.

“That’s real great, all of us having epiphanies in a friggin’ sewer.” Seth muttered, but his smile gave away his true feelings about the situation. “I was joking when I asked if you had any more sins to confess, y’know.”

“So Amy, I kinda have a weird question now.” I asked her, and she glanced over at me, now being one of the four of us in the front.

“Shoot, CG.” She replied, hopping over a tiny crack as she did so, causing her words to jutter slightly.

“Are you bisexual?” I said bluntly, not really sure how else to ask it while being delicate. From my side, the audible sound of flesh hitting flesh echoed through the pipe, clueing me in that Seth’s hand was now on his face in disbelief.

“Dude, of course I am. I thought that was obvious.” Amy said, frowning slightly, but I frantically shook my hands outwards, trying to communicate that I had more to say.

“No no, I just mean… what’s that like? Liking both sides of the street, as it were.” Every word that I said felt like verbal diarrhoea out of my mouth, piling out one after another in a clumsy, screwed-up manner. Truth be told, the smell made that idea actually seem quite viable, but dwelling on it wasn’t something I particularly wanted to do. Amy paused for a moment as we walked, making it so all we could hear was our footsteps as we progressed further into the pipes. God, I hoped we would get out soon.

“It’s… not really like anything, I guess is the best way to put it.” Amy said after some deliberation. “I like girls, and I like guys, and that’s kind of really all there is to say on the matter. No specific preferences, no reasons why I like both, I just… kinda do, you know?” She explained, and I nodded after she had finished. It was interesting to hear this from her, as I had never really focused on my sexuality myself. That being said, it was something I still didn’t really want to focus on, so I quickly tried to think of a joke to get out of the situation I had managed to fumble my way into.

“Haha, you like girls, that’s so gay.” I had to admit, my joke telling skills under pressure needed work, and the audible groan from Seth made that very clear. Amy just laughed, most likely sensing how awkward I was feeling.

“Says the guy who’s usually wearing leather.” She replied, and I was going to come back with a witty retort – like no you – when I saw the movement ahead of us. My hand quickly went to my sword, and Seth held his gun out in front of him. A low glow indicated that Tabitha had her dancing fire in her hands again, and Amy made the wall crackle for a moment with electricity as she pulled a small dagger made of brick and the metal pipe out of it. I had to hand it to her, she was making a lot of headway with her alchemizing. It seemed to just come second nature to her.

“Hey, who’s out there?” Seth yelled authoritatively, and I sighed, any hopes I had of being sneaky dissolving. “We’re not going to hurt you, so just come out.” He added, and for a moment, nothing was said in response, before a small voice rang out.

“I can literally see all four of you brandishing weapons, you know.” It said, and I immediately took my hand off my sword, motioning for the others to do the same. While it had been a long time since I had played the game, I knew that voice.

“Is that…?” Amy began, not sure whether to finish the sentence in case she was wrong. In response, the person came out of the shadows, the green eyes being the first visible thing. The person was human, or at least, mostly human. Most of the people put into the sewers were partially mutated, but none more so than this character. Long, slender cat ears were perched on her head, sticking out like… well, like long slender cat ears. Come on, I can’t be expected to find a simile for everything, now can I? Despite it being too dark to actually see it, I was certain that a dark furred cat tail swished behind the person. A grin revealed rows of sharp, predator teeth, but I knew from experience that this was a kind and gentle soul. “Aki!” Amy finished, barely standing still for a second before pouncing the catgirl into a hug.

“How… uh, do you know my name?” Aki asked, and Seth just shrugged. I was surprised that he hadn’t worn his shoulders out from how much he’d been doing it, at this point.

“Oh, I’ll explain later. It’s just… so good to see you!” Amy replied, looking her all over.

“Do I know you?” Aki replied, still dumbfounded. “Fur real, I don’t think I’ve ever met you guys befur.” Of course, I had forgotten this character had a habit of talking in cat puns. Both an endearing trait, and most likely grating to Seth and Tabitha, even though it had just started.

“Well, I don’t know who you are, but I’m Tabitha Williams. Next to me is Seth Allen, the girl hugging you is Amy Frays, and the guy in the sunglasses calls himself Cool Guy.” Tabitha roll-called the four of us, pointing to each of us as she did so. “It’s nice to meet you.” She added at the end, more of a formality than anything.

“Oh! I’m Aki Cataria! It’s very nice to meet you too, ma’am!” Aki curtseyed, and Tabitha looked away, decidedly uncomfortable. “Say, are you four lost? I could show you to the cat-pital, if you want.” I had to admit, Aki’s cat puns needed some work.

“Oh my gosh, please do! Come with us everywhere, if you’d like!” Amy couldn’t contain her excitement, and while Aki looked a little unnerved, the sheer happiness of Amy was radiating over all of us, and it drew a smile to Aki’s lips again.

“Well, I can’t deny someone as enfursiastic as that, can I?” Aki said, and I paused for a moment before realising that she said enthusiastic with another cat pun. “Come on then, it’s not far now!” She added, grabbing Amy’s hand with her anthropomorphic mix of a hand and a paw, causing Amy to squeal in delight. The two of them rushed forward, with the rest of us trailing behind slightly.

“You know, I’m just now realising that introducing Amy to a way for her to directly interact with all of her fictional crushes is, in layman’s terms, a really bad idea.” Tabitha said to the three of us, and I could do nothing but nod as I watched Amy talking Aki’s ear off. I sighed, something telling me that this was going to be an even longer day than it already had been.

[jotawakening-blog]

5 Septober, 5A 169: Sq’irky!

So, after finding one treasure and finding out I’m not yet in a position to get the other, where does that leave me?  Well, there’s one last thing I need to do around here, and it has to do with the task Boric set me of clearing out the living rock golems from the mines in Lumbridge Swamp and Al-Kharid.  Although I highly doubt that the mines are still booby-trapped in this way, given the weeks that have passed since Boric gave me the job, I reckon it’s worth a look anyway.  S I go down to the mine and dig around a little until… a golem jumps out from behind a coal rock!  Who would have thought!  But it’s easily dealt with, leaving only one mine un-patrolled, the one north of Al-Kharid.

Now, there are a number of good reasons why it might be a good idea to make a short side trip to the desert.  The first is that both my enchanted key and the cosmic talisman I bought point to that general area, and that’s definitely worth investigating.  Second, there’s that mine to sweep for golems.  Third, there are a number of little errands that I should work on there, such as obtaining the neck bone of a camel for… whatever the old man with the sack of bones is planning.  So I get going, travelling through Lumbridge Swamp, where the cosmic talisman is pulling me.  Weird, I don’t recall there being another altar there…

Oddly, the talisman pulls me not to an altar, but to a shed that’s empty except for a few shells and boxes, and nondescript but for green cloverleaves carved out of wood.  Huh— maybe the altar is buried beneath the shed?  That might be worth investigating at some point.  Anyway, merely lifting the boxes and peering beneath yields nothing, so I keep going.

As I’m approaching Al-Kharid, I find that a storm surge has washed away the pilings of the city dock, leaving no easy way to cross the river this far downstream!  With a little creativity, however, I happen upon a solution: I have my crossbow with me, as well as the grapple bolt I bought just for fun at the exchange.  What if I could shoot the bolt at that tree on the far bank, tie my end of the rope to a tree on my side, and shimmy across?  Worth a try…

Hey, it worked perfectly!  Satisfied with my ingenuity, I retrieve my grapple and head up through the gate into the pearl of the northern desert.  My plan is to follow the tug of the enchanted key, which pulls somewhere to the north, but before I can get very far, I run into Osman the spymaster, who pulls me aside.  After sharing a few words about Ozan’s progress in infiltrating Menaphos (it’s been difficult so far, but he thinks he’s getting somewhere at last) he asks me for a favour: he’s far too busy to be stealing around the Sorceress’ Garden, but he’s parched for a glass of freshly squeezed spring sq’irk juice.  Could I get some for him?

I tell him I will, but in a while: I have to run a few errands first.  To begin with: the enchanted key.  It seems to become really, really hot (and it’s not just the desert sun) as I go north.  Finally,, by the time I reach the oasis by the pass to Lumbridge, the key is steaming hot, so hot I drop it!  That’s my cue to dig, and the treasure I unearth here is quite special.  Not only do I find ten chunks of mithril ore and a small stack of rune essence, I also dig up a large staff tipped with the symbol of Zamorak.  It looks quite fragile and unsuitable for combat, but it may have once had some ceremonial use.  It’s a neat find, so I think I’ll be keeping it in my personal collection.

When I feel the key again, it is warm, but no longer quite as hot as it was.  Since it’s unlikely any other treasures it’s pointing to are around here, I stick with my original plan and go north to the open-pit mine near the mage training arena.  It’s the last of the four places Boric told me to investigate, and so I do, poking at the rocks until— aha!— another living rock golem pops out!  It seems like Boric was right on all counts.  I’m sure he’ll be happy to hear that.

I return to Al-Kharid with the intention of making good on my promise to Osman.  I head toward the sorceress’ house through the market, but before I can get very far, a very Kharidian, very importunate merchant calls out to me: Ali Morrisane.  Thinking he just wants to sell me some crap again, I try to excuse myself, but it turns out he has a business proposition for me.  Seeing that I was going south, toward Shantay Pass, he asks me whether I could help expand his business by persuading his nephew, a guy named Ali, to come up from Pollnivneach and help his uncle out.  In return, I would get the first month of Ali’s salary.  Well, as a matter of fact, I was planning to go camel hunting in the southern desert, so it wouldn’t be very much of a detour.  I agree to do it and continue on my way.

But I don’t get very far up the road after that encounter before I have another one, this one with my old acquaintance Sister Cecilia, one of the survivors of the murders up at Citharede.  She pulls me over, but it’s not pleasantries she’s after, but advice.  You see, she’s been trying to reconcile her faith in Saradomin and life as a nun with the events concerning Sister Anna, but has found it quite difficult, and she wants me to tell her whether she should stay at the Abbey or leave for other pursuits.  It’s a tough decision, she says, because she’s been here since she was a child, and now more than ever she’s clearly needed.  What’s more, if she leaves, she can never come back.  Well, it’s a hard choice, but… I tell her she’s risking something by leaving, but that I feel this is the best choice for her, not remaining in this place with so many bad memories and never getting a chance to try anything different.  Sister Cecilia thanks me, and tells me she will head my advice, then turns up the Abbey road, I suppose to pack her bags.

Besides her, though, there’s nobody else who flags me down, so I reach the Sorceress’s Garden without incident and get the old hag’s apprentice to teleport me in.  This time, I head for the part of the garden that’s kept in perpetual springtime and pick the lock to go in.  The spring garden, it turns out, is much like the winter one, with the same sort of hedge maze and elemental guardians, but it’s a lot greener than the winter one.  Thus begin my attempts to get the fruit, which aren’t initially a success because of how much tighter the timing of the elementals’ movements in this garden is.  After about ten failed tries, though, I crack tie timing puzzle and get my hands on one of the fruits!  It seems these are quite a bit riper than their winter equivalents: squeezing the one I got yields about a quarter of a glass of juice!  (It’s minty and fresh in taste.)

Getting the three more sq’irks I need for Osman’s liquid refreshments is not that big a deal, once I’ve figured out the pattern of the sentries and gotten it into my head just how limited their field of vision is.  Still, by the time I’ve overcome my initial blunders, gathered the fruit, brought it to Osman, and listened to his lesson in spying and subterfuge (today’s topic: thieving from a thief!) while he drank it down, it’s late in the afternoon.  Still, I figure it’s not too late to head out into the desert, at least get to Pollnivneach, and perhaps hunt down that camel, so I head out to Shantay Pass, grab several waterskins, loop them into my belt, and venture forth.

My journey to Pollnivneach is smooth and uneventful, save for the one lucky pot-shot I shoot off that takes an Ugthanki camel in the heart, killing it cleanly without any damage to its neck bone (which I salvage and take with me).  It takes me little more than an hour’s brisk march to reach the desert city, which I actually have never visited before!

Upon reaching the city, it quickly becomes apparent that all is not well in town.  The buildings have a run-down look to them, and those in the northern part are occupied by what’s quite clearly a gang of desert bandits.  I try talking to them, but they’re not interested in chitchat, so I move on to a building just down the way that catches my attention for all the colourful cloth displayed inside.  The owner is a fairly young woman who’s clearly a dyer.  She’s much more talkative than the bandits, and tells me the story of how she entered the trade (she learnt it from her mother, who also was an embalmer) and how business is doing (not well, since the locals mainly wear white against the desert sun).  Since I don’t need anything dyed, though, I thank her for the conversation and move on.

Further into town, I pass by a shabby market stall.  I ask the owner if he’s Ali Morrisane’s nephew, but he apparently is not.  He’s got a bunch of goods on offer, including exotic desert fruit, local garb, and even fake beards (what the hell for, I wonder).  None of it really interests me, though, so I move n toward the centre of town.  There, I finally hit upon a stroke of luck when I ask a street urchin for directions.  It turns out he knows exactly what’s going on in the city, including with Ali Morrisane’s nephew.  The urchin tells me he was a rather mean market trader, who apparently got into trouble with both of the gangs in town (wait, there’s another one as well?) a week ago and disappeared (or was disappeared).  The urchin speculates he might have tried to double-cross them, but claims not to know the truth: if I want that, he says, my best bet is to gain the trust of one of the gangs and ask them.

Since the kid is quite generous with information, I ask him to fill me in about the two gangs.  The first one, which rules the south of town, is called the Menaphites because, well, they’re some sect from Menaphos, said to be led by some deranged priest.  Few have seen the leader, though, as he deals through a fellow named Ali ‘the Operator’.  They’re known mainly for starting fights in the local pub, but the urchin claims they’re planning something big— they’re such a tight-knit group, though, that little leaks out.  The other gang, meanwhile, is the desert bandits, who are exactly that: toughs led by the strongest among them.  There’s not much to be said about them, and they lack grand ambitions.

I ask the urchin whether there’s any legitimate political authority in town, or whether the gangs just rule as they please.  He tells me that there is a Mayor, but that he’s a spineless coward and, in fact, largely responsible for the bandit situation.  When the Menaphites came into town, he at first did nothing to expel them, and only belatedly hired out the desert bandits to chase them out.  But, sensing his weakness, the thugs turned on him, and… well, here we are.

In fact, the urchin spots the mayor in the crowd of the town square and points him out to me.  I go up and introduce myself, and receive a very warm welcome.  The mayor gives me a glowing pitch about how his town is the gateway to Menaphos and Al-Kharid, but when I actually ask him for his help in locating Ali the trader, the limits to his helpfulness come out glaringly.  For one thing, he claims to be too busy to give me any assistance; for another, he tells me Ali is a very popular name in this town, and tracking down my man might be a challenge.  Drat.  Oh well, the sun is going down anyway, so I find lodgings in a nondescript inn north of the market square and bed down for the night, making ready to resume the search tomorrow.

[sultan-of-weasels-in-boots]

Kin Tarot Readins - My Sonic kins

It’s been a while since I’ve shared any memories, so I thought I’d share some of my past lives via this tarot spread for fictionkins. (It’s a good thing my mom bought me tarot cards of my very own a long time ago.)

I figured I’d start off with my Sonic character kins since I’m starting to get a little more hyped about Sonic Forces (plus happy birthday Sonic!!).

Also please keep in mind that I’m still a bit new to giving myself tarot readings, and I’m just going by the card meanings the set I was given say, so...I apologize if I word my timelines a bit oddly.

Johnny

1. An emotion/feeling/state of mind that dominated you: The World – Everything. Completeness, understanding, trust, perfection, achievement, love. Fullness. Saturation. Lack of space for other things. Everything in the right place.

2. An action you took because of it: Chalices 4 – Habits. Doing the same things, indifference to news, loss of drive. Care and patience for the little things. The same gesture has the same meaning.

3. A key event in your time line: Three of Pentacles – Service. Obedience, duty, respect, work. There is also honor in serving.

4. Your role in the key event: Two of Pentacles – Balance. Moderation, prudence, equilibrium of opposites. Opposites can coincide.

5. Your standing with others: Prince of Chalices – Birth of an emotion. Thoughts come from the heart and take on life.

6. Others' standing with you: Two of Wands – Desire. Search, curiosity, love, far-off thoughts. Where the eyes don't see, the heart sees.

7. Something you've forgotten: Ace of Chalices – Source of life. Everything comes from life and from life comes everything.

8. A mistake you made: Queen of Pentacles – Harmony with the environment. Harmony between us and the world that surrounds us is the basis of happiness.

9. Something you did right: Seven of Swords – Subterfuge. Moving about secretly, shrewdness, small steps, don't attract attention. The straight road is rarely the best.

10. A lesson learned: Ace of Wands – The Ego. Know yourself and don't be afraid.

So, from what I can gather, I was at first satisfied with my life. I did pretty much the same things each day (probably a lot of jet skiing). But, despite my hobbies, I worked as much as I could during my time being a part of Captain Whisker's crew and knew to keep myself under control when working. The captain and I were real close, so it was only fair that I repay his kindness towards me.

I'm not entirely sure who the “others” are for 5 and 6. For 5, perhaps the “birth of an emotion” happened once I heard about Sonic. I was jealous of him and it must have taken over me. And 6? ...Maybe I did have some fellow fans/speed lovers out there. Whether they truly adored me or were jealous of me and my skills, I'm not sure.

Here's where things stood out more for me: Something I've forgotten. The source of life.

Whisker... I left him behind. I feared so much for my life that not once did I think about him. I probably just thought he'd be able to fend for himself, but...he didn't. He couldn't. His death impacted my life greatly, didn't it? I just...have this deep feeling that I felt pretty empty once I realized what had happened.

As with my mistake...I refused to make peace with the so-called “heroes”. I kept challenging Sonic to races rather than simply give him his stupid emeralds. After all of that, perhaps after Sonic went home, I made a wise decision to keep myself away from any innocent people, as they probably would've alerted their Blaze that I was still around.

And then, I learned my lesson. The isolation gave me time to retrace any facts about myself. It must've given me enough courage to go out there and do what I do best, possibly even improve my skills a bit. Maybe I even eventually made peace with the kingdom's people.

-

Blaze

1. An emotion/feeling/state of mind that dominated you: Queen of Chalices – Harmony of emotions. Live emotions fully without getting swept away or worn out.

2. An action you took because of it: Eight of Swords – Dead End. Fear, paralysis, difficulty, feeling of imprisonment, ability to react. The solution is found by not giving up.

3. A key event in your time line: Prince of Pentacles – Birth of an interest. Curiosity is the initial contact between us and the world.

4. Your role in the key event: Ace of Swords – Thought. May thought be your blade, penetrate deeply and stop only at the truth.

5. Your standing with others: Death – The Threshold. Transformation. Confront the unknown. Defeat personal fears. Grow. Let go of the past. Make a clean break. We will never be ready to overcome certain thresholds, and yet we will get beyond them anyway.

6. Others' standing with you: Queen of Wands – Harmony with yourself. Don't have remorse or regrets but feel comfortable with yourself.

7. Something you've forgotten: The Hanged Woman – Equilibrium. A rite of passage. Sacrifice, training. Submit to or confront adversities. Understanding paid for dearly. Determination when faced with difficulties. Equilibrium comes from inside.

8. A mistake you made: Prince of Wands – Birth of a wish. Existing means acting and not following.

9. Something you did right: The Moon – Harmony. Dreams, thoughts, imagination. Intuitive understanding, perception of things, going beyond appearances. Illusion, magical moment, fleeting sensations. Harmony in giving and receiving.

10. A lesson learned: King of Wands – Search for the right choice. Don't be centered only on yourself but have self-confidence.

In this timeline, I often made my emotions clear to myself and other people, but along with that, I had some difficulty controlling my powers. Thus, I stopped being open about how I felt, which helped give me time to control my flames, but obviously, it didn't help prevent me from being picked on.

Now, birth of an interest... I guess I was a bit curious about Sonic's world, as it was quite different from my world. But, overall, I had to be focused on getting the Sol Emeralds back. Cream and Sonic helped change me quite a lot. They both helped me overcome my hatred of my powers, which is what made me be able to harness the power of the Sol Emeralds.

Once again, 7 and 8 greatly stood out to me, but not the same way it stood out during my timeline as Johnny. I forgot...equilibrium. Balance. A sacrifice? Did I forget to sacrifice myself? Is this in reference to Iblis? Was I too scared to die that I didn't go through with sealing Iblis away, and the future was never fully saved? I never would've thought I'd have any event from Sonic 06 as part of my timeline, but I guess now it's a possibility. I wonder how Silver must have felt...

I'm honestly not sure what the reading means in regards to harmony, but judging by the lesson I learned, I'm guessing it's more based on the Rush timeline. You could say it had something to do with me making up with Sonic, and that relying on others helped defeat Eggman and Eggman Nega. It's certainly a lesson I'm glad I learned.

-

Fang/Nack

1. An emotion/feeling/state of mind that dominated you: Nine of Pentacles – Possess. Control, opulence, lack of drive, self-confidence. Be careful of what you desire because you might receive it.

2. An action you took because of it: Queen of Pentacles – Harmony with the environment. Harmony between us and the world that surrounds us is the basis of happiness.

3. A key event in your time line: Three of Swords – Suffering. Anguish, solitude, fear, loss. Reason alone does not warm.

4. Your role in the key event: Nine of Wands – Vigilance. Regard for something, defense, commitment, prudence, anticipation of problems. Not everything happens without conflict.

5. Your standing with others: Three of Wands – Wait. Patience, nostalgia, things that follow their course, times that must mature. Sit on the bank of a river and wait. Sometimes it's the only way.

6. Others' standing with you: Six of Chalices – Nostalgia. Remember the past. Recall things believed lost. Find yourself. The meaning one's roots. Flowers grow every year with the same colors.

7. Something you've forgotten: Three of Pentacles – Service. Obedience, duty, respect, work. There is also honor in serving.

8. A mistake you made: The Sorceress – Will. Decision-making ability, beginning of a journey, courage, energy. Will and equilibrium are the basis of every action.

9. Something you did right: Princess of Chalices – An emotion that gains strength. The heart cannot be controlled.

10. A lesson learned: Five of Chalices – Loss. Give up the superfluous. Distinguish the important from that which is not. Preserve something. Look at yourself in the river. Let it divide what you have from what you don't have.

Let's see. During my life as Fang, I had plenty to possess, such as the profits I earned off of selling stolen artifacts. It was this simple life as a thief where I had confidence in myself and I lived peacefully in the Special Zone. Of course, I got caught a few times, thus I lost every treasure I was planning to sell. I was starting to think I was losing my spark, which drove me a bit over the edge. Then I heard that there were these sets of Chaos Emeralds that were always left unsupervised.

So, I waited for an opportunity, or someone, that I could use to my advantage. I waited specifically for Sonic and Tails to get into my dimension, and I went after them so I could get the emeralds once they took care of all other obstacles in the Special Stages...not that it worked, especially once I saw Dr. Eggman get into the picture. I tried to run away, though I guess that was my mistake, 'cause that's when Eggman suddenly struck me down. Pretty much showed how much of a coward I was.

Then Sonic the Fighters happened. I accepted my loss from before and, feeling pretty generous, I helped Sonic and his friends defeat Eggman and destroy the Death Egg II as a somewhat thanks for having the heart to save someone like me from death. I eventually had to go back to my zone, but I guess I ended up leaving a pretty good impression on them, and they still remember me from time to time. At least, from what I understand.