#so even though I listed multiple resources they're all repeating the same three things about pre-Han invasion northern Vietnam sorry

[regina-del-cielo]

“The Old Guard” Daemon AU: Quynh and the king cobra

Since we don’t separate couples in this house, after Andy here comes Quynh. She’s just as badass as her axe-wielding wife, so she has a similarly Iconique daemon

the king cobra is the longest venomous snake in the world; adults range between 3,75 and 5 m, and weigh up to 10 kg, and males are bigger than females. Quynh is terrifying (affectionate), so her having a Big Murder Noodle as daemon is on par with her

king cobras are apex predators, snakes that eat other snakes; their only natural predators are humans. Quynh, like Andy, is a force of nature, so she deserves to stay on top of the food chain

like most venomous snakes, king cobras kill their prey by biting them, injecting a high dose of venom, and then eat it. Quynh, that Joe described as a pit viper in a fight, seems to be a “one strike and you’re dead” type of warrior, especially being an archer

on that same note, a group of king cobras is called a quiver, and a quiver is also the pouch where archers keep their arrows. So. Sounds like destiny

king cobras are diurnal, so they possess a good eyesight, together with a strong sense of smell; they also spend a lot of time on tree branches, from which they lean down to hunt – sniper Quynh my beloved

while they usually prefer avoidance to confrontation, king cobras tend to take an aggressive stance when disturbed – raising up to the chest, opening the hood, and hissing. Since they’re also much larger than many snakes, they can also attack from a certain distance if bothered. I think Quynh has the spirit of an observant (she was the sniper before Nicky and I will die on this hill), and she doesn’t start fights if she doesn’t need to; but she won’t take any bullshit from anyone, and those that test her don’t live long enough to regret it

king cobras are long-lived snakes (20 years on average) and although they’re solitary during the year, they tend to stay with the same partner for the mating season, and it’s the only snake species that actively builds a nest for its eggs, which the female guards ferociously. 🎶 ~ Found Family Vibes Babe ~ 🎶

a king cobra’s scales are usually a mix of green, brown, black and yellow, with the yellow scales forming very slight stripes on the top portion of the body. It’s not the flashiest coloring among snakes, but it’s surely elegant, and Quynh is obviously a fashion icon, and her daemon’s coloring goes with all her outfits – what do they say, black goes with everything?

The habitat of the king cobra spans from southern India to most of Southeast Asia, from lowlands up to an elevation of 2000 m. They live in forests, swamps, bamboo thickets, grasslands, and rivers – they are good swimmers. Coincidentally, Vietnam has declared the king cobra a protected species (go Vietnam!); so it’s an animal that Quynh would have been familiar with

according to the Netflix featurette video, Andy found Quynh around 1000 BCE – take away the century that it took her to actually find Quynh, and assuming that Andy started looking for her as soon as the dreams started (which I think she would have, desperate for company as she was), we could place Quynh’s death around 1100 BCE – give or take the thirty/forty years Quynh actually lived

I am assuming that Quynh lived in the Red River delta area in northern Vietnam; this date would place her at the tail end of the Dong Dau archaeological period of the Hong Bang dynasty (the predecessor of the Dong Son culture), and she would have been a Lac Viet

the Lac Viet were an agricultural society with a sort of feudal system, where inheritance was passed through both the paternal and maternal line; also, when someone got married, they became a member of the wife’s family instead of the husband’s

in most Asian cultures snakes have a neutral or positive depiction, from symbols of rebirth (due to their periodical shedding of the skin) and immortality (think of the ourobouros), to fertility (humans will see an elongated anything with a differentiated head and go ‘is this a phallic reference?’) to guardians of temples or divine figures (especially cobras, for their defensive positions); the Vietnamese dragon itself is a combination of various animals, including the snake

one of the legends about the origin of the Vietnamese people is that of Lac Long Quan, legendary founder of the Hung dynasty, whose mother was a dragon goddess, and Au Co, an immortal fairy of the mountains who could turn into a bird. She bore him 100 children, and when they separated (he to the seas, she to the mountains) the children also split between their parents

in Vietnam’s folk religion, the snake, as an amphibious animal, is meant to possess the linh, the “spirit”, a power of mediation between âm (yin, the disorder) and duong (yang, the order). It lives on the threshold of water and land, and thus is associated with divine figures with luminal powers between order and disorder, especially goddesses

the neighbouring Cambodians also believe to be descended from nagas, the snake gods also present in Hindu and Buddhist mythology

this would mean that Quynh having a snake daemon, in her original culture, would have been considered positively, even reverently – and in her travels through Asia, said snake being a cobra probably was looked at even more benevolently

(imagine how pissed off she must have been that the onset of Christianity would make people recoil away from her and her daemon)

After. A painful search. I have settled for Thang for the daemon’s name. It means “victory” (or “victorious”, depending on the sources), and it feels like a good thing to name a person’s daemon, especially if we assume that Quynh had a warrior training in her first life too

(there is One (1) Thing I know of him. He has a Deep Sexy Voice, like. Imagine James Earl Jones. That’s how I can imagine him speaking. A soothing deep bass that makes you feel instantly at ease – haters will say it’s manipulative. Quynh regularly goes “if Thang was a tiger you wouldn’t say that, you cowards”)

Fun fact: in almost all legends and mythologies snakes and eagles (or snake-like and eagle-like entities) are mortal enemies since, you know, snakes represent the chthonic world and eagles represent the skies. And yet Andy and Quynh looked at each other and went ‘fuck it, that’s my wife now’ and that’s Very Sexy of them

(I can see Diokles sleeping on the closest tree branch above Andy and Quynh with Thang gently coiled around him so he can also Keep Warm)

References outside of Wikipedia and directly linked sites:

 Đõ̂, Thiện (2003): Vietnamese Supernaturalism: Views from the Southern Region. Psychology Press, 300 pages

Dutton G.E., Werner S.J., Whitmore J.K. (2012): Sources of Vietnamese Traditions. Columbia University Press, 622 pages;

McLeod M.W., Nguyen T.D. (2001): Culture and Customs of Vietnam. Greenwood Press, 198 pages;

National Geographic’s Photo Ark – King Cobra;

Taylor, K.W. (1983): The Birth of Vietnam. University of California Press, 397 pages;

Taylor, K.W. (2013): A History of the Vietnamese. Cambridge University Press, 696 pages.

[doodlelolly0910]

Close Encounters of the Spiritual Kind

Summary: Emma Nolan spent a lot of time alone, and that was fine by her. Because one is never truly alone. She should know. She can talk to dead people. What she didn't expect was one of these spiritual encounters to hang around, taking her down a rabbit hole of missing women, revenge, and, least expected, love. Can she save the day and Killian Jones? Is there even another choice?

Read it from the beginning on AO3 and FFN!

A/N: We're already on chapter four! Things with the case are really starting to heat up here, and some big background on Killian comes to light. Also, the confirmation on the identity of the woman Emma has been hearing all this time! I'm sure you guys have already guessed who she is, but her identity is confirmed here. Thanks so so much as always for reading and a HUGE thank you to the fantastic @kmomof4 being such an amazing part of this process as my beta and thanks to @courtorderedcake the brilliant artwork she's created for this piece. Enjoy chapter 4!

Chapter 4

Emma hated days like this. She knew from the multiple messages she'd gotten from Graham and Captain Mills that the tip had been heeded and the captain had sent out a search party to recover Marian's body last night. Which means Robin would be there this morning and very much grieving. Her heart hurt for him.

Unfortunately, Marian's death fit a laundry list of other victims in the area. She was a young woman, missing for several months, and connected to Weaver Gold. Of course, she was the only one that knew for sure that  Weaver Gold was the actual killer, but without actual physical evidence, she couldn't make that accusation. Thankfully, Robin's former association with him was enough to warrant further investigation.

Emma arrived at the office a little earlier than usual, sipping on her iced coffee (no repeats of yesterday, thank you very much), and reviewing her case files before Graham got there. She flipped through a number of pages, looking at names and faces of so many missing girls she hoped she wouldn't find like Marian. Ashley Boyd. Ivy Belfrey. Ariel Havfrue. Shirin Amira. Aurora Prince. Young women that had all gone missing without a trace within the last six months, from all walks of life with seemingly no connection to one another, except one: Mr. Gold. In one way or another, usually through a deal they had made to get out of a bad spot in their lives, all of them had a connection to Gold. And now that a body had turned up, it was time to dig deeper. She turned back to the bulletin board set up with information on Gold and his enterprise and looked at the red yarn webbing connecting pieces of these women's lives to him and it made her blood boil. She was going to be the one to take him down. She had to be.

"Hey, Em." Graham's sheepish voice came from the doorway behind her as her partner made his way into their shared office. "You're here early."

Emma nodded and hummed an affirmative sound before turning back to study her board. Graham cleared his throat and she turned back to him to see him watching her intently.

"Something you needed, Humbert?" she asked, gathering her files on the desk.

"Ah, no. Well, yes. Kind of," he rambled and Emma raised an eyebrow. He sighed deeply before continuing. "What I mean to say is I feel bad about yesterday. I can't help but feel like maybe your migraine was partially caused by what happened with me startling you and the spill, and of course I feel terrible about that as well. Anyways, I wanted to see about making it up to you by maybe taking you to dinner?"

It was Emma's turn to sigh. Graham looked like such a hopeful little puppy every time he asked her out that, at first, she hated to say no, but she just wasn't in the same place as Graham was. That was at first. Now, she still wasn't in the same place he was and rejection came automatically to her.

"Sorry, Graham. Don't mix business with pleasure. Is Mills in yet?" She tried to change the subject around Graham's crestfallen change in expression. He nodded and began shuffling through papers on his own desk.

"Uh, yeah. I dunno if she even went home last night after they pulled the body. They're razing the whole field to see if there's anymore case files we can close." Graham seemed to have found everything he needed and nodded at his desk, not meeting Emma's eyes. "I'll, uh, see you out there."

Emma squeezed her eyes shut tightly as he left the office. When she was sure he was gone, she turned and picked up her case files and followed him out into the bullpen for the meeting.

Regina Mills was a no-nonsense, severe woman. She was rather imposing for her average stature, her raven hair always in its sleek bob, immaculate pantsuits for every occasion, big brown eyes that looked into the depths of your soul. Emma's two years under her as her captain were tumultuous, to say the least. Over time, they had learned to get along and had even become friends of a sort. Well, as close to being Emma's friend as you could get. But they understood each other, and that was more than Emma had with most people. Unbidden, Killian's face popped into her mind. Maybe he was someone who could understand, too. Emma shook his image from her head as fast as it entered, a flush crawling up her neck at how much she actually thought about someone she'd never even met before.

Things had actually been quieter on the encounters front. Instead of relief, Emma felt unsettled. She was always waiting for the other shoe to drop and she was very careful to avoid touching anything that might trigger her. Especially that damn shirt. But along with all of that, there was an underlying fear that she may be running out of time on multiple counts. If this Killian Jones needed rescue, she knew time was of the essence. Right now, though, she had a job to do.

She gathered her case files and walked into the bullpen, taking a seat on the edge of an open desk next to where Graham sat. A few other people had already gathered themselves. Jefferson, their tech analyst was typing away at his laptop, completely engrossed in his task. Two junior detectives, August Booth and Mulan Fa, stood chatting in front of the water cooler. The door to the central office opened and Captain Mills came striding out.

"Alright, people. As you all know, there was a huge break in the case yesterday with the unfortunate recovery of Marian Locksley's body. We still have no leads on the tip that came in leading to the location of her remains, but Jefferson is looking into that," she addressed the group and Jefferson gave a mock two fingered salute, eyes still glued to his screen. Emma felt butterflies rise up in her stomach, but she'd been careful. There's no reason she'd be found out. "Now, we have a solid lead on a connection to Weaver Gold in regards to these disappearances, but he's sealing up leaks quickly since the body was discovered. Information out of his operation is at an essential standstill. So, we'll have to get it from the source. Nolan, Humbert!" Emma's head snapped up at her name and Graham stood up straighter beside her.

"You have three days to get your affairs in order. Then you're undercover."

Emma's heart jumped into her throat as Regina continued to speak and passed them each a manilla folder with information on the identities created for them. She had never been undercover before in the four years since she'd been promoted to detective.

"Of course you'll want to use all in house resources before you go, you'll only have Jefferson as your contact once you are in the field," Regina continued and Emma looked up to her.

"Did Robin come in already?" she asked and Regina cocked an eyebrow.

"He's in my office. He's provided us with some invaluable intel towards your undercover assignment already," she replied.

"Is he... well, I mean I know he's not... but is he..." Emma struggled to find words to ask about the wellbeing of the man who had lost his wife. There was a reason Graham did most of the talking to the vics.

Regina gave a slow, cool nod.

"He's as well as can be expected," she said thoughtfully. It was rare to see an introspective Regina. She cared about a lot of things, but was never really one to wear her heart on her sleeve. Emma nodded, unsure of how to read Regina.

"Well, it looks like the going just got tough, so I better get going." She stood and the two nodded at each other before Emma walked to her office.

Inside, Graham was poring over the contents of the manila file on his desk with his undercover instructions. She sat opposite of him, eyeing him carefully. He sighed heavily.

"This is insane," he said, flipping his file closed sharply as Emma opened hers. She shrugged.

"We know the case the best. We've been working on it for months now and no one knows Gold better than the two of us. Makes sense." She continued to flip though the file outlining her role as a petty thief and Graham's as a fence of sorts. She scowled down at the pages in her hands.

"I know. You're right. I just can't help but feel like something bigger is going on. And I know that should make me more ready to go, but it just makes me nervous," he admitted. Emma looked up to him and studied the apprehension in his gaze.

"I know, Graham. It's a tough spot. But we're professionals and we can do this. At least we can count on one another." She offered him a warm smile which he returned with a stiff one of his own.

"Yeah. You're right. It must be first time undercover nerves. I'm gonna go grab a coffee and talk to Jefferson. You want anything?" he asked and Emma shook her head.

"No, I'm good. Gonna look through some things and probably head out for the day. Get everything ready to go." She shuffled the papers back into place and closed the folder.

"I'll leave you to it, then. See you Friday." He smiled gently at her again and she nodded her response, turning her attention to her computer as he left the space.

Emma rolled her neck, trying to relieve some tension. She could only hope this went smoothly and quickly. With Gold's status and notoriety, it was unlikely though. Her whole life was likely to be put on the back burner for quite some time. Ruby was going to be pissed. Protective pissed, but still pissed. And then there was the issue with Killian Jones. She felt a pang in her chest at the idea of leaving him to suffer through whatever she was supposed to be "saving" him from. She rolled the mouse on the screen as an idea came to her. She opened up a new search screen and began to type.

Killian Jones.

More than one result popped up in the records database, British naval records, immigration records, naturalization paperwork, guardianship records for one Liam Jones, but the blue eyes staring out from the mugshot on her screen she instantly recognized. So he had a past. She clicked on his arrest record and pulled up his history. Her jaw dropped almost comically.

Robbery.

Assault.

Burglary.

Breaking and entering.

Money laundering.

Evading arrest.

Attempted murder.

The litany of charges he had been arrested for was impressive, to say the least. Curiously enough, however, all charges were subsequently dropped after his arrest due to there not being enough evidence to hold him, except the assault. The assault, an apparently isolated incident against a man named Herman Ahab, he served two years behind bars for. But the scowling man with the piercing eyes and hard set to his jaw seemed absolutely capable of each and every allegation. A far cry to the soft image of a lost and hurting soul gazing wistfully over the sea that she had experienced before. Emma was more conflicted than ever. Was Killian Jones in danger? Or was he the danger himself? Before she could decide for herself the now familiar, but still panic inducing, scent of jasmine crept up on her causing her flesh to erupt in goose pimples.

Good man.

The soft voice murmured. Emma scoffed.

"Clearly," she said, feeling insane for acknowledging the encounter out loud. A surge of floral perfume surrounded her and the words were repeated, a little more forcefully.

Good man.

"If you say so. I don't know why I keep listening to you. I don't even know who the hell you are," she grumbled petulantly.

The voice whispered an answer to the statement she made almost immediately.

Milah.

"Milah, huh. You got a last name, Milah?" Emma asked, bringing up a new search screen to do a little more digging. As quickly as the encounter had come on, the scent of jasmine began to fade and Emma had the distinct feeling she was alone again. 

She sighed heavily and clicked back on the page with Killian Jones’ information. The remaining charges on his rap sheet all appeared to be linked to a single arrest, so she pulled up the report and her heart almost slammed to a stop in her chest.

Killian Jones had been accused of trying to kill Weaver Gold. 

Emma was never much of a believer in fate, but it seemed like there was something bigger at work here.  Call it grand design, destiny, or whatever, there was much to get ready for.