#taken in good faith they could mean he looks too young but ive seen that comment mostly on pics where he looks just like his canon design

[ricksanchezbignaturals]

pinterest mfs cannot stop commenting some variation of "why'd you make him a twink" on thirsty fanart of rick, like bitch! this is the guy you're talking about?

this man??

this absolute fruitcake???

yeah, okay, fanartists are the ones that made him a twink, sure. /s

[alj4890]

I got an ask we know Riley gets kidnapped by Anton but what if Anton was in love with her and he didn’t wanna kill her but makes her his. What if Olivia killed Claudus for shooting drake.

I love the way you think, Nonny! I actually would have eaten this up with a spoon if that had happened in canon. To be honest, I really liked Justin in book 2. If he had been a new love interest, I would have done a play through just to see what happens if Riley chose him 🤦🏻 Of course then we find out he is behind all the bombings and such so...oops, LOL. When I first saw your request, I made an aesthetic with just Justin/Anton and Riley in mind. I completely forgot to add a definite OTP of mine, Drake and Olivia, to it. Smh. The story though will definitely include them along with Riley and Justin. I am so tempted to turn this into a series 🙊

@gkittylove99 @krsnlove @kingliam2019 @texaskitten30 @yourmajesty09 @mom2000aggie @ofpixelsandscribbles @twinkleallnight @lodberg  @amandablink @neotericthemis  @mm2305 @sfb123 @iufilms

Masterlist

True Intentions

It had happened when he had not been paying attention. It shouldn't have happened at all. He had one goal. One mission. Nothing had ever come to mean more to him than that. Nothing. No one.

Until Riley.

He knew he shouldn't have spent so much time with her. He shouldn't have helped Maxwell in picking the right dresses for her. He shouldn't have stuck around to see her come out of dressing rooms, an excited smile upon her face, as she twirled around for them to give their opinions.

It had taken all his will power to keep from telling her what he truly thought. Riley's beauty was simply stunning, not because of her outer loveliness, but more that he saw her inner beauty shining through each trial she faced. Her strength amazed him. Her wit brought a smile to his face. Her kindness touched his heart.

It made him begin to long for things he shouldn't. They shouldn't be a part of any dream or plan he had.

And yet...she was beginning to crop up in his thoughts. In his dreams.

In his plans.

He winced as he tried to get comfortable.

His plans hadn't exactly gone as he had hoped. In fact, he should have talked to his men and explained that Riley was not to be a target.

Thank God for Drake. If he hadn't jumped in front of her, she would have been taken from me.

His lips twisted in another painful grimace.

"Are you in pain?"

Justin looked up and tried to smile. "Just a little."

His nurse shook her head. "I told you to buzz before it got too bad." She gently checked his wound.

"I don't want to be a bother." He mumbled.

"You aren't." She patted his hand. "You aren't any trouble at all." Her nose wrinkled. "We had a few nobles cause unnecessary problems when the attack happened."

"Really?"

She rolled her eyes. "Some were knocked down during the chaos and demanded they be admitted."

He chuckled softly. "Sounds like something they would do."

"It's a shame that good people like you were seriously hurt while those spoiled nobles try and take all the attention." She readjusted his covers after administering some more pain medication in his IV. "I don't know why King Liam is so hellbent on bringing them back to court."

"What do you mean?" Justin tried to fight the effects of the pain medicine. "What's he doing?"

"He and Lady Riley are going on some type of tour to some of the major houses to personally invite them to their wedding."

His brow furrowed.

A unity tour. That would work on these small minded individuals. It was a smart move. The public were already Team Riam. Once the royal couple convinced the most powerful houses to come to their wedding, all the other minor lords and ladies would follow suit.

"Well played, Liam." Justin's eyes drooped closed. "Well played."

**************

He couldn't believe that they not only convinced Madeleine's entire family, but also somehow got all of Portavira on their side.

"What's the plan?" Claudius asked.

"We need something big to remind everyone that we aren't a one trick pony." Justin told him.

He looked out the window. Leaves were beginning to change with the first hints of autumn in the air.

A hint of a smile appeared as a plan began to form.

"It would be a shame if Cordonia's apple orchard had a bad year, wouldn't it?" He eyed his second in command.

Claudius chuckled. "It really would."

******************

Justin watched as every channel showed the devastation of the orchard near Applewood. He couldn't help but smile over Riley making the people love her even more for her righteous anger. Her promises to bring those responsible to justice along with making the orchard bigger than before made him nearly burst with pride.

She had grown into her role more so than he had ever imagined. Gone was the timid young waitress from New York who uttered no comment when reporters surrounded her. She was a confident woman now who could think on her feet.

Justin thought she was more attractive than the first time he had seen her floundering in front of the cameras, in desperate need of a hero. It hadn't been a bother to rush to her side then and put his arm around her. Her wide eyes had lifted to his and he had nearly melted from her beauty.

He still couldn't believe that she forgave Liam for choosing another over her. Granted Madeleine impressed him with how she could manipulate reporters into spinning a story to her advantage, but Riley was so many things that the cold countess was not. She deserved better than what she got.

And he planned on giving it to her.

*****************

A week after the orchard burning, he turned to see the one rarely far from his thoughts.

"Justin!" Riley rushed over to engulf him in a hug.

"How's my favorite media darling?" He asked.

She leaned back and gave him that smile that was brighter than flash bulbs. "Much better now that I know you're recovering." She playfully glanced about before whispering, "Save me from Madeleine!"

He laughed as he hugged her once more. "I don't know. I've seen her work and can't find fault with it."

Riley pouted. She linked her arm with his as they walked down the hospital hallway. "I prefer your guidance to hers." Her nose wrinkled. "It's weird being told how to act by Liam's former fiancée. I know there wasn't anything between them, but still."

Justin patted her hand. "Tell you what. If Madeleine is unable to do her job or you decide to fire her, then I will gladly step back into my old position." He dug around in his pocket for the earpiece she had used during Liam's engagement tour.

Her smile reappeared. "Old faithful."

"I'm always Just-in-time." He teased.

*****************

It had been too close. He hadn't expected Riley to go anywhere near Constantine. And there she was, by Liam's side, graciously accepting some necklace from the old man who had destroyed her initial happily ever after.

His heart had nearly stopped as he watched rubble fall around them. Riley had frozen in fear over Liam's safety. It was a nightmare come to life as pieces of the wall and ceiling began to collapse.

At least one good thing had come from this: one king was dead.

It sadly wasn't the king he needed to die.

Justin began to plan how he would comfort Riley once Liam was gone. He wouldn't have to tell her it was he, himself, who orchestrated his death. But he would make certain to enjoy the benefits of it.

His eyes narrowed over another slight problem he had.

He was going to have to kill his own wife too.

******************

Lythikos...

It had been almost too easy. Madeleine was already in need of a distraction after hearing Liam gush over how excited he was to marry Riley in a few weeks. Once she requested a fruity cocktail, he knew then that the poison could go undetected taste wise.

The bartender left to go replenish the champagne. Madeleine's irritation over having to wait on a refill was drawing attention.

"Here." He grinned at her. "Allow me to make you another."

Her eyes widened. "Aren't you that press secretary that helped Riley?"

"I am." He began to mix a strong cocktail for her while adding the poison, all right under her nose. "And I must say you are the best I've ever seen."

Madeleine's irritation disappeared over the compliment. "I am, aren't I?"

"Riley's lucky to have someone so knowledgeable in ways of both the court and public like you." He added.

"Yes, she is." Madeleine muttered. "I'll do anything for my country, even if it is a thankless job."

"You should be recognized for your sacrifice." Justin handed her the deadly drink.

"Yes, I should." She took a gulp.

"How is it?" He asked.

"It's the only good thing here." A tipsy grin appeared on her face when she saw Riley. She grasped Justin's hand and pulled him in her wake. "Let's go say, hi."

"Boooooo!" Madeleine giggled when Riley turned around. "It's the ghosts of press secretary past and present."

"The what now?" Riley lips trembled with suppressed laughter as she looked up at Justin for clarification.

"I'm the ghost of press secretary past." He winked at her.

"OoooOooo!" Madeleine swayed where she stood.

"Whoa, there." Riley tried to steady her. "You okay?"

"She's had a little too much." Justin mimed drinking.

"It's a party!" Madeleine slurred. "It's in the worst place ever but it's a party and I'm going to...going to..."

"Enjoy it?" Riley offered.

"Extractly!" Madeleine's brow wrinkled over that not being the right word. "Expactly?"

"Exactly." Justin corrected.

"That."

The crowd quieted around them when Olivia took the stage to offer a final toast of the evening to Liam and Riley's wedding.

"Woo!" Madeleine cheered.

Riley and Justin tried to shush her.

Her giddy smile fell as her rosy cheeks drained of color. "Somefing's not..."

"Madeleine?" Riley lost her grip on her when she swayed violently to the right. "What's--"

Madeleine hit a table, causing the plates to clatter and the vase of blood red roses to fall over.

"I hate this place." She collapsed on the floor.

"Madeleine!" Riley dropped to her knees and tried to bring her to. "Liam! Mara! Come quick!"

Justin stepped back as the two came to see what was wrong. He watched as Olivia made her way through the crowd to find out what the all the fuss was about.

"What's wrong with her?" Riley asked.

"She's been poisoned." Mara whispered.

*******************

Justin loved seeing the delighted surprise once more on Riley's face when he said he would take over Madeleine's duties for the rest of the tour. It would have been a perfect moment if Liam had not been standing there. He was ashamed to think of his nearly giving himself away when he panicked at the sight of Olivia walking in behind him.

He wished Lucretia would quit trying to push Olivia into going into the family vault. She had a sick sense of humor in wanting her niece to discover she was already married. For some reason, she did not approve of the way her niece depended on her friends for support.

Justin knew the power friends could have. Had he not been trained by his own parents' friends, he wouldn't be the worthy man next in line to the throne. His comradery with his own men inspired their loyalty and willingness to die to make him king.

He needed to distance himself from Lucretia the moment they got out of Lythikos.

****************

She was supposed to come alone! Why did she bring Riley? I can't kill her. I need her. I deserve to have a choice in the one I want ruling by my side. The people already adore her, much more so than they admire Olivia. I was supposed to become free of this marriage. Once she and Liam are dead, I'll be able to be king and have--

"Justin?" Riley's eyes were clouded with confusion as she looked first at a picture of him dressed in a royal uniform. "What is this?"

"I'm sorry, Riley." His voice cracked on her name.

Justin reached in his pocket and pulled out a revolver.

Lucretia cackled with glee as she told her niece the truth about her marriage.

Justin stood there silently as the woman he loved shook her head in denial.

She's so incredibly sweet to doubt a friend could be the bad guy. I hate that I can't pull her away from all this and simply explain why I should be the ruler of Cordonia. I deserve it. I worked for it. My entire life was made for me to take the crown. She would be able to understand that. Look how far she's come in her own life. Who could imagine a waitress from some dive bar in America would come to be the next queen of a small European nation?

"Do it already!" Lucretia hissed. "Shoot her!"

He couldn't do it. Even as he held the gun steady, pointed directly at the woman he loved's heart, he couldn't shoot Riley.

"Get away from her!" Liam ordered.

Justin spun around to see the king and guards filling up the narrow passageway.

"I thought you said this was secure." Justin snapped at Lucretia.

"It was." She held her hands up in surrender.

Justin watched as she stepped forward, pretending to stumble.

His eyes widened as once again his love was trapped within a collapsing room.

He managed to see her safely end up in Liam's arms before escaping through a hidden passage.

He left Lucretia to the guards. She had served her purpose and was sadly of no use to him any longer. Now he could plan what he truly wanted to happen.

*******************

Liam and Riley's wedding day...

"I don't care who you kill. Olivia and Riley are to be taken alive." Justin told the small team of men he was sending in. "If you have to wound them to get them here, make certain Riley's is non life threatening.

He ignored the questioning look Claudius sent his way.

"Bring them both to our stronghold." His eyes narrowed. "Do not fail me."

****************

Later that night...

"Good work." Justin straightened his jacket. He wanted to look his best when he saw Riley again.

Claudius smirked at him. "Just think of all the men we would still have if you had let me go alone."

Justin chuckled. "True, but at least we are free of our weakest links." He smoothed his hair back. "Now take me to our guests."

***************

"I know the real Justin is somewhere in there." Riley leaned as far forward as her bindings allowed. "You helped me gain the love of the people. You know that if you kill me, the people will not readily accept you as king."

He couldn't help but smile. "I know and that is why I don't intend to hurt you."

"Then why kidnap us?" Olivia demanded.

He turned toward her. "If I'm to be king, then I have to take the necessary steps to claim the throne." He motioned for Claudius to come in.

"You're the one who shot Drake!" Olivia shouted, struggling against the ropes biting into her tender skin. "You'll regret that."

"And you tried to kill me!" Riley added, narrowing her eyes.

"That was a mistake." Justin quickly said. "You were never to be harmed."

"Then why all the attempts?" She asked. "Why do you persist in--"

"You weren't supposed to be here, Riley." He knelt down in front of her. "You should have stayed in New York until the time was right"

Her eyebrows drew together. "What are you talking about.

Justin asked Claudius to remain with Olivia while he took Riley somewhere private.

"If you think for one second that I will remain with this man while you take her away go do only God knows what," Olivia's chair creaked at her straining to break free, "then you don't know what a Nevarkis is truly made of!"

Justine rolled his eyes over her rant as he untied Riley from her chair. He kept her ankles and wrists bound together. He swept her into his arms and carried her out.

Olivia's shouts were silenced by the sound of a hard slap.

Riley struggled in Justin's arms. "What did he do to her? OLIVIA?!" Tears streamed down her cheeks. "Justin, please don't--"

"Nothing's happened to her." He took her into a surprisingly clean, yet drab, sitting room.

Riley was dropped on a chaise lounge. She eyed the door then Justin.

"I'm not going to hurt you." He repeated. He gently cupped her cheek, fingers brushing along her jaw line. "I love you too much to ever harm you."

Riley stilled. She looked up at him. "You what?"

He knelt before her. "I'm in love with you. It didn't hit me until you told me you had accepted Liam's proposal on the train. I didn't plan it, but I refuse to hide my feelings any longer." He smiled at her. "You've proven yourself as the rightful Queen of Cordonia. Once Liam and Olivia are dead, you and I can rule this country as we see fit. We'll--"

Riley shook her head. "Justin," she believed he was deranged and knew she had to handle this carefully, "I'm flattered. Really I am. I mean, we both know I would never have gotten this far without you."

His smile grew at her realizing she owed him for her meteoric rise within the court.

"But if you kill Liam and Olivia, the people will not feel any love or loyalty for you." She tilted her head as she studied him. "Surely you see the problem with this plan."

"People respect power." He explained. "They respect someone who fights for what is rightfully his. Since my birth, I have been meant for something greater. My parents, Olivia's family, even my soldiers realized that I alone am worthy to rule over this country." He focused once more upon her. "And I've seen that you are the one to do so by my side."

Riley shook her head. "Justin, I am honored," her voice cracked on that lie, "to have your love but I can't accept it." Her eyes filled with tears. "I'm in love with Liam."

"Riley, he didn't choose you." Justin argued. "He left you on your own to fight against nobles, the press, even his own father. You deserve so much more than being an afterthought."

Tears slipped down her cheeks once more. "That wasn't what he did. He was trying to protect me. And I--"

He leaned down and kissed her.

She froze at the touch, refusing to participate.

"Once Liam's gone, you will see the truth." Justin promised.

"I won't." Her eyes narrowed. "As long as I live, I'll hate you with everything within me for taking him from me."

"You don't have it in you." He shook his head in amusement. "You've forgiven everyone. Olivia, Penelope, Madeleine, even Constantine. You never hold a grudge."

"You'll be my first." Riley vowed. "Liam is the love of my life. If you ruin my chance to finally be with him, I will never forgive you. As long as there is breath in my body, I will find a way to destroy you."

"You are amazing." He murmured, knowing she was speaking from her heart. He couldn't wait for that devotion to be for himself.

"Anton?"

The two turned to see Claudius in the doorway. "Liam should be here any moment."

Justin nodded and told him he would meet him and the rest of the men downstairs.

He lifted Riley in his arms and placed her back in the cell with Olivia.

His wife had the bruised imprint of Claudius's hand on her alabaster cheek. Blood had dried on her bottom lip. No tears had fallen from the force of the hit. Her left eye was bloodshot as she glared up at him.

"Liv?" Riley choked out. "Are you--"

"I'm fine." Her harsh answer echoed in the chamber. "It will take more than some two bit thug to hurt me." Her eyes did a quick scan to make certain Riley wasn't hurt.

"If you will excuse me, I have to go prepare for Liam's last night on earth." He retied Riley to her chair.

She threw her head back with all her might to connect with his face.

His glasses broke from the force of her strike. Blood poured out his nose as he stumbled away from her.

"Don't ever," his voice dropped to a hiss, "do that again, my love." He gripped her chin and jerked her face up toward his. "You will learn how to behave soon enough."

He slammed the cell door and left them alone.

"Did he hurt you?" Olivia whispered.

"No." Riley bit her bottom lip. "Not yet."

*****************

"Where is my wife?" Liam demanded.

Justin couldn't help but be impressed. The young king was standing before him, completely outnumbered, yet didn't show the slightest flicker of fear.

He asked the one question that he himself would have asked if Riley was taken from him.

"She is well." Justin replied. "Which is something I can't promise about your own well being."

"I want to see her." Liam bit out. "Now!"

Justin's chuckle was interrupted by a hastily whispered message from Claudius. His head jerked around to search the dim hallway as if doing so would reveal the missing prisoners.

How had they escaped?

"You don't get to make demands here." He snapped at Liam.

"Let Riley and Olivia go." Liam ordered. "And I will take their place." His eyes narrowed. "I know it is a temporary one."

Justin couldn't help but smile. The man was indeed brave to trade his life for Riley and Olivia's.

"No!" Riley screamed out from the stairs.

Chaos broke out as she led the charge to attack the Sons of the Earth. Justin watched as she ran over to protect Liam's back.

The couple were doing their utmost to protect the other from harm.

Their friends were taking his well trained soldiers out one by one. It was embarrassing to see how pitiful his men fought.

Olivia moved into his line of sight. Fury blazed across her delicate features.

"I'm impressed." He told her, unsheathing his sword. "I should have searched you myself."

"Trust me." Olivia circled him. "It will be the last mistake you'll ever make!"

She lunged at him. He easily parried her attack. "I think you've forgotten that it was your parents who gave me the same training you had."

"I think you talk too much!" She twirled about, bringing her daggers up to stop his sword from meeting her shoulder. He grunted from her heel piercing his leg as she pushed off to break his hold.

They continued to try and deliver punishing blows to the other. She was desperate to kill the man who was after her friends and country. He was anxious to be free of their marriage.

He noticed from the corner of his eye Claudius and Drake fighting. His second in command stunned the commoner with an uppercut to his jaw, causing Drake to stumble back into a wall.

Olivia heard the scuffle and followed Justin's line of sight. Her face paled at Claudius moving towards Drake to end him once and for all.

With a flick of her wrists she not only slashed Justin but threw her other dagger at Claudius. It struck true along the side of his neck, cutting into his jugular. He let out a garbled scream as he fell to the floor.

Justin hissed at the deep gash she had made along his ribcage.

Seeing that it was a lost battle, he hopped the banister and began to rush upstairs. He would have to go into hiding once more before orchestrating another attack.

"This ends now!" Riley yelled out at him.

He spun around to see both her and Liam rushing toward him. He raised his sword, determined to put an end to the man who stood between him and the throne. He hesitated when Riley jumped in front of her husband.

"You're not taking him from me!" She raised her battle ax. "Every time you try, I will stop you."

Does Liam know how lucky he is? She waited on him to choose her. Twice! And now she stands here, ready to defend him to the death. How could any man not fall in love with Riley?

His refusal to fight her was his downfall. He was pushed over the banister by the royal couple. While his breath was knocked out, Maxwell and Hana bound his hands together behind his back.

He looked about at his fallen and captured comrades. His attention was drawn toward Olivia and Drake. The pair were covered in blood and bruises, yet they were leaning against each other. Drake had his arm around her while softly speaking. Whatever was said caused Olivia to press even closer to his side. Her arms slipped around his waist. Her eyes were closed tight as she allowed him to hold her.

Justin had suspected something more between the pair. It looked like his coup for the throne had accomplished something for them.

Bastien and the rest of the King's Guards rushed in. After talking to the king and new queen, he collected Justin and hauled him outside.

On the way, Justin met Riley's eyes.

There were so many things he wanted to explain to her. He believed she would have been on board with his plans for the kingdom. Once he had killed Liam and Olivia, he would be the benevolent king the country needed. Gone would be the purpose for pompous nobles. He would have established a council of Cordonia's citizens from all walks of life to advise him. People would be rewarded and honored for their service instead of simply being born to the right parents.

And she would have been his queen, guiding and protecting all she deemed worthy.

"Riley, I..."

"You will never ever hurt those I love again." She hissed.

"Take him away." Liam ordered, keeping his arms locked around his wife. "He will be dealt with in the morning."

Justin knew then that it was pointless to try and explain. She would never give him a chance after all that had occurred.

For the first time in his life, he realized that his intentions didn't matter to the one he loved most.

[whatifxwereyou]

The Oncoming Storm Part 29: Into the Empty Storm

Liu Kang x Reader and Kung Lao x Reader (gonna do both, two paths!)

You have more questions than answers and are starting to think that maybe there aren't any answers. When you wake up, Chen provides you with some but maybe they aren't what you wanted to hear. You have a crisis of faith- but pick yourself back up. Change is coming.

A/N: Change IS coming, on like... Saturday. That's when the choice is! I'm letting you know now that the choice is a weird mundane choice that will change the story! Also, it's almost my birthday, and all I want is more free time to write y/n and these boys LOL. Hope you are all well. Smooches. (title is from a song called believe in nothing, i steal many titles from song lyrics)

Part 28 Part 30 Chapter Index

Your eyes fluttered open.

Your head was splitting but the stone ceiling was at least familiar.

What happened?

Everything was fuzzy. You tried sit up, but your body was too heavy and your arms too weak. Your fingers were tingling and numb, your muscles sore as if they had gone unused for weeks.

“Oh! You’re awake!” Chen’s voice came from your right, but this was not the infirmary. Your stomach was in knots and your shoulder was stiff. You sat up to greet your friend anyway, but your body objected with pain. “Whoa, whoa, hey slow down!” Chen carefully helped you lay back and then propped your head up a bit higher when you tried to sit up again. You were in your room. You hadn’t recognized it immediately.

You were confused.

“Why?” You choked out and then cleared your throat. Your mouth tasted like you hadn’t talked in just as long as your body hadn’t been used. Chen looked nervous and weary, like she hadn’t slept in just as long. “Why do I feel like this?”

“What exactly do you remember?” Chen hesitated. You closed your eyes and tried to remember how you’d gotten there.

That was right. It had been chaos.

“Everything went to hell when I touched the artifacts and…” You knitted your brow and tried to remember. “Oh, god, then Raiden tried to read me and that’s… that’s all I remember.” Your shoulder ached at the memory. There had been nothing else after that. Only pain.

“That was… Y/N, that was three days ago.” Chen braced herself for your panicked response. You stayed silent. Three days? How was that possible? It had felt like both a blink and an eternity of pain and darkness.

“What?” Your stomach dropped and it occurred to you now that there was an IV in your arm. Chen had likely been there the whole time keeping an eye on your vitals and making notes. There was a bedroll on the ground nearby as if to validate your thoughts. Why there? Why weren’t you in the infirmary? You already knew the answer.

You were too dangerous.

Three days was too long to be unconscious.

Your hands were still tingling. That was right. Raiden had shocked you because you had nearly killed Liu Kang and Kung Lao.

“Is Liu okay? Kung Lao?” Whatever had happened to you was less important.

“One thing at a time, Y/N.” Chen tried to urge you to lay back as you tried to sit up, but you shoved her hand away. “Please lay down. You need to take it easy, okay? You had… a little just… don’t panic when I say it, okay?”

“Tell me and then I’ll decide if it warrants panic or not.”

“I don’t want to make you any worse.”

“You not telling me is making it worse.”

“Just try to remember that it’s more complicated than what I’m about to say.”

“Would you just say it already?”

“You had a heart thing.”

You froze. Your ears were suddenly ringing. A heart thing? What kind of heart thing? What did that mean? You let Chen help you lay back down so you could focus on taking calm and deep breaths. Chen was checking your pulse on your wrist and watching you with concerned dark eyes.

A heart thing.

You were young! Healthy! Or at least you had been before those assholes had broken into your dojo and turned your life upside down. This wasn’t fair.

You hadn’t realized you had been holding your breath until Chen was shaking your arm to remind you to breathe. You exhaled and your lungs ached in response. They’d been deprived of too much oxygen too many times now. You finally turned back to Chen whose brow was set in a permanent line of concern.

“Are you okay?”

“You said it was more complicated. How?”

“It wasn’t a heart attack. It was a cardiac incident. You don’t… there are no blockages or anything causing it, but…”

“Isn’t it still the same thing? Heart fails?” You didn’t know much about medicine but you’d seen enough bad Korean dramas to know that the two things were similar.

“It’s different, okay? Your heart is strong, Y/N. You’ll recover. It’s just going to take a bit.”

“I am so fucking tired of my fucking body just… fucking betraying me. Fuck. Just… fuck.” You wanted to rub your hand over your face but you felt so weak that you could have screamed in frustration if you had the energy. Instead, you continued to swear beneath your breath. Chen covered her mouth and laughed, her cheeks pink. Really? That made her blush? She could make dick jokes all day long but swear words made her blush? “I can’t seem to catch a fucking break.”

“It’ll be okay, Y/N. I promise.” Chen had a rare moment of seriousness and offered your hand a comforting squeeze.

“I know.” You heaved a sigh and closed your eyes, taking a few deep cleansing breaths. “I know.” You finally calmed and were able to lift your hand enough to rub over the gauze on your shoulder. It was aching. “I just had to get it out of my system.”

“I get it.” Chen pulled your hand away from the gauze. “Careful with that, please. I’m still trying to get that thing under control and understand what it is.”

“It’s the crack from that godforsaken bell Kung Lao and I found in Japan.” You said in a mocking tone that made Chen laugh again. You should have left the damn things where they were. Things had only escalated far beyond your control since you’d gotten back. You’d felt like you’d made progress before then. “Can you help me sit up?”

“I heard that part of the story. We’re trying to figure out what kind of a connection could cause that. Raiden’s still going with curse. Going with god-curse now actually.”

“Oh. Great.” You let Chen help you sit up and then scooted back against the pillows that Chen adjusted for you. You leaned your head back against the cold stone of the wall behind the bed and breathed a sigh of relief. It had taken tremendous effort to sit upright but you felt better now that you had. If you hadn’t used your body in three days, it would take some getting used to your muscles being used again. Thankfully, it hadn’t been any longer.

“Yeah, I imagine that can’t mean anything good. He didn’t tell me much more, just that it was important to tend to it and report any changes. I don’t think I was supposed to hear everything that I did.” Chen tended to the mess of medical supplies that she had set on the floor by your desk.

“You’re good at that.”

“Sometimes being a gossip comes in handy, Y/N.”

“You didn’t answer me before. Are Liu and Lao alright?”

“Lao’s fine. Not even a scrape. He’s proud of that.” Chen smiled sympathetically. “Liu needed a few stitches but he’ll heal up in no time. He’s resilient. Doesn’t ever complain. It’s sweet how worried you are for them.” You weren’t sure that you would ever forget the way that his blood had felt splattering on your skin. You’d been the one to hurt him. He’d been trying to save you from yourself and it had backfired. He’d tell you not to feel guilty but you felt guilty, dammit. There was no way around it. They had been so angry with Raiden for pushing you but you had volunteered to do what you did. It was important even if it had been the wrong choice. You hoped they weren’t losing their minds over you being out for so long. If you had been waiting on one of them to wake up then you would have been going completely crazy.

You wanted them to be okay.

“Thank you.” You were grateful that Chen was there to reassure you and take care of your health. You guessed that Chen had probably volunteered since you were considered dangerous.

“Happy to help, Y/N.” Chen smiled sympathetically. “I’m so relieved to see you awake, I can’t begin to tell you how much. And not just because Kung Lao has been here about a hundred times. He keeps asking to come in. How you’re doing. If he could take over for me for a while. I told him that I’d let him know when you were awake and he doesn’t listen.” Chen clicked her tongue in amusement. You rolled your eyes so hard that Chen snorted. Sweet but typical of him. “Liu came by exactly once and I told him the same thing. He took my word for it. So, par for the course with those two.”

“Sounds about right.” You leaned your head back against the wall again and closed your eyes. God, this was a mess. A cardiac thing? God-curse? There was a mark on your body that mimicked the crack in a cursed object. You’d been nearly choked to death by some gross pale demon-man and you’d maimed Liu Kang. Again.

Where was the line?

Would there ever be an end to this?

Guilt.

You were so tired of guilt.

And pain.

You would gladly take the pain for the rest of your life if it meant keeping the people that you cared about safe from whatever this was. You held your head in your hands and massaged your temples.

“Don’t get in a funk about this, Y/N. You’re going to be okay. It’s going to be okay.”

“Yeah.” You didn’t argue with Chen, but you wondered if this ended in your inevitable death. It didn’t feel like things were getting better. They had escalated violently in the last few days. No matter what control you’d had over your arcana, when you lost control? You lost it to a point where it was dangerous to be around you. Was it fair for you to still be there?

You were putting them all in danger.

Was it fair to consider Liu Kang or Kung Lao’s advances when you were such a danger to them? When it suddenly felt unlikely that you would survive this?

It felt particularly cruel to connect with Kung Lao again after years of having thought he was dead. To have him back only for things to wind up like this. And for Liu Kang, a man you had an insane draw to, unlike any you had ever felt. You’d hurt him now so many times. You knew he was strong but how long until you accidentally hurt him beyond repair? Chen took some vials of blood and you felt almost instantly nauseated at the sight of it. You fanned your face and were grateful to find that your body was adjusting to being used again. Chen helped you stretch and stand and get used to your body again before helping you back down and removing the IV.

“Do you know what will make you feel better?”

“Sleep?”

“I mean, yes, but also… getting you crazy drunk and then having one of those boys come over here to take care of you.” Chen made air quotes and you whined in response. You’d almost forgotten that Chen’s brain lived only in the gutter. “You just have to pick your poison. Kung Lao or Liu Kang.”

“I know that you’re joking but I still feel compelled to tell you that’s a bad idea right now.” If you drank right now, then you would wind up a sobbing disaster of a human being wallowing in self-pity. You didn’t need that right now and neither did either of them.

No matter how you tried to push it away, you couldn’t get it out of your head that this was how you died.

It felt very unfair.

“I need to see you smile, Y/N.” Chen’s voice was dripping with concern. She clasped her hand over yours. “Please?”

“I can’t pretend to do that right now, Chen. I’m still processing that three days have gone by. I’m still processing what happened in there and what any of it could mean. This was supposed to give me answers and all I have are more questions and every fuck up is more violent than the last.”

“We’ll get your answers, Y/N. It’ll be okay. Raiden is going to find a way.”

“Yeah.” You didn’t necessarily agree. Raiden was a God. You were sure that if he knew your existence was putting them all in danger then he would do what was necessary to stop that from happening. Not that you thought that he wanted that for you. He would try to help but there was only so much anyone could do. You assumed he saw a picture bigger than just your life.

“Y/N…” Chen looked to you seriously. “I don’t like this.”

“Wow, really? Because I am having a great time.”

“What an unhealthy coping mechanism.”

“Don’t judge me. It’s working.”

“Is it though?” Chen smiled sadly. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I need to get out of bed and get used to my body again.”

“You should rest a bit longer.”

“I’ve been doing nothing but resting for three days, Chen.” You wanted to do something, anything to feel in control of your body. Chen studied you nervously but then offered you a nod. Together you worked your body just enough to help you get used to being awake and moving around. There was so little that you could control that it felt good to have something small. Chen was willing to help you even if she had tried to get you to slow down. You refused and pushed through it. You knew your limits.

You wanted to feel like yourself and break the fog hanging over you.

After some time, Chen forced you to stop and you rested your hand over your sore shoulder. You could feel your heart beating beneath it. Everything hurt but it only made you want to fight harder to get past whatever this was. You wouldn’t let it win. You wouldn’t let that thing win. It had frightened you for a few minutes and, truthfully, it still scared the hell out of you, but the fear no longer crippled you. You were determined to beat it.

You were not going to die because of this.

“What’s this?” Chen pointed to the wilting flower on the desk next to your journal. You thought that you were much like that flower now. An unfortunate parallel, you thought. Chen was cleaning up some of her medical things and putting them into a small bag after rolling up her bed.

“Just a sweet trinket.” You smiled fondly at the flower. It was pretty, even wilting.

“Liu Kang? Seems like something he would do. Finding beauty in things that are even temporary or some nonsense.”

“It does sound like him but it was actually Kung Lao.”

“Is that so?” Chen pulled out the desk chair and sat. “Can’t say that I can picture him giving anyone a flower. And no offense, but I don’t picture you as much of a flower getting kind of girl, either.”

“And exactly what kind of girl do you think I am, then?” You laughed in surprise. Chen perked up when she heard you laugh.

“You seem more like a grand-gesture kind of girl. Not really a material things girl.”

“Nice save, Chen.”

“We’re off topic. The flower. Focus, Y/N.”

“Oh, right.” You picked up the flower, twisting the stem carefully between your thumb and forefinger. It was still hanging on. There was some life left in it. Not much though. “It’s just something from when we were kids. It was the last time I’d seen him. He gave it to me before we said goodbye and then… he died. Well, at least I thought he had died. Still wrapping my brain around that one.” You set the delicate thing on the desk again.

“Yeah, that’s a big thing.”

“Off topic again though. When he returned from his errand for Raiden, he had found me another. I need to press it between the pages of the journal or something.”

“…you are talking about Kung Lao, right?” Chen seemed skeptical.

“Yes.”

“That’s ridiculously sweet. I’m having a hard time associating it with him.” Chen looked to the flower suspiciously as if she thought you were making up stories to tease her.

“Well, presumably the original flower was burned up in the fire so… it was nice of him to get me another. Not that he would have known I kept it. I guess it had been as important to him as it was to me.”

“You still had the original one?”

“Yeah. I had pressed it between the pages of my favorite book and got special paper to protect it. I hadn’t opened it in years but I assume it’s been burned to a crisp.” You felt the weight of your truth settling on your shoulders. Your life was gone. This wasn’t some crazy vivid dream that you’d eventually recover from. That life was over. There were moments where you missed the monotony but you were also grateful that it had happened to you and not to someone else. You had never fit in back home. Everyone else had belonged there. This was a better place for you.

“And you’re sure that this was Kung Lao, right?”

“I’m positive.” You laughed. Kung Lao definitely didn’t come off as sweet to most people, you realized. It was kind of adorable that it was just for you.

“You were really hung up on him, huh?”

“That’s a different life now, Chen. I thought he was dead. I cherished the little time we had.” Your ran your fingers through your messy hair. It was getting too long.

“Have you thought about going back? To see what happened?”

“I have,” you answered honestly. “But it’s a bad idea, I think. I killed people that night, Chen. And then there was the fire. They probably think that I’m dead. It’s not wrong to assume that either. Part of me died that day. I’m different. I can’t go back to being that woman and I can’t risk being seen.” You had put distance between the woman you had been and the woman you had become. You’d had to. It had been the only way to cope. “I’ve been nervous to talk about it. I can’t explain why.”

“You should probably ask Kung Lao to explain what happened.”

“Yeah, he just loves having a serious conversation. But you’re right. I’m ready to find out, I think.” Of all the crazy things that had happened in your life that one didn’t seem so crazy anymore. After what had happened in Raiden’s chamber, after maiming Liu, after having a heart thing, you could handle what had happened in your hometown.

“I didn’t quite understand the hang up that you had with Kung Lao. He’s such a… difficult man to get along with when you do what I do. But I suppose that I can see it now, knowing a bit more about the history between you two.” Chen admired the flower. “That’s a deep connection. He’s sweet to you… which I find difficult to believe so you must be special to him. Where with Liu…”

“Chen…” You turned your gaze. “Can we not talk about this right now? I know that you’re trying to make me laugh but I’m… I’m scared and my brain is having a hard time with all of this. Tomorrow, I promise, that all bets are off. You can tease me as much as you want but for right now, I need a break.”

“I get it.” Chen smiled and then got up, sat next to you on the bed, and wrapped her arms around you in a comforting hug. “I really do, Y/N.” She held you for a moment before you finally returned the hug. It felt strange to be hugged but nice. No romantic conflict involved. No stress about what it might mean. Just a hug. Comfort. You sniffled, not realizing that your eyes were misty with tears until then.

After Chen pulled back, you wiped your eyes and cleared your throat.

“This is only because you’re in such a state, Y/N. Trust me. Tomorrow? I’m back to pestering you.” Chen scolded and you smiled. “Besides, I wanted to bring up something more serious before I left anyway.”

“Oh, good. Serious with you never ends well for me.”

“It’s not anything medical. I gave you all the news there was to give for that. But with… everything that’s happened? People are starting to talk about it. I mean, they already were to an extent but more about how… scary it is.” Chen avoided your eyes and you felt a familiar and unpleasant frustration in the pit of your stomach. Gossip. “I just wanted to brace you for it. You might get some looks while you’re out and about. Raiden wouldn’t let me keep you in the infirmary just in case something happened. I’ve never seen him so worried, Y/N. It scared us a little.”

You figured Raiden was worried that you’d hurt someone and there was the confirmation. You had hurt someone. You’d hurt Liu. Three times now. You nodded in understanding. People usually feared what they didn’t understand. You were afraid of it too but you couldn’t exactly hide from what was happening. “I can’t blame him for being concerned. I hurt Liu.”

“Oh, no, Y/N.” Chen seemed surprised by your assumption. “He was worried for you, Y/N. I’m sure that our safety was part of his concern but he thought that a familiar and comforting space might help you. I think he’s worried that the heart thing was his fault.” Chen wiggled her fingers and made a sound to imitate the crack of lightning. You hadn’t considered that. You also hadn’t taken Raiden for the sentimental type. He’d come across as a fatherly man, you supposed, but your father hadn’t been sentimental so your idea of that was skewed. “I just wanted to warn you about the gossip and reassure you that it comes from a place of concern. We really like you, Y/N. You make time for us when many wouldn’t. They’re scared for you but also for themselves.”

“I get that.” You weren’t sure what to say about it. This was all too familiar. You felt so guilty that you weren’t sure how you were going to overcome it. The gossip wouldn’t help, you were sure. Your shoulder ached at the memory. It wasn’t as bad as it had been initially. Chen had briefly showed it to you while changing your bandages. It was literally a crack. “Thanks for the heads up, Chen. You’re always looking out for me.”

“I’m happy to.” Chen sounded nervous and you felt the woman’s gaze flitter from you to the door. “I’m afraid to leave you alone like this. I don’t… I feel like you’re not okay, Y/N.”

“I’m okay, Chen. I promise.” You reassured her. You knew you sounded morose. “I know I don’t sound it, but I’m okay. I’m so grateful that you were here when I woke up. You’re wonderful, even if I give you a hard time about teasing me.”

Chen smiled and offered you another quick hug. “It’s going to be okay, Y/N. You’re going to be okay. We’ll figure it out.”

“We will. I’m going to be fine.” You did your best to sound sincere. You knew that you tended to come off as sarcastic and while you weren’t feeling your best right now, you had to believe that you would be okay. Belief was an incredibly powerful thing, more so than you had ever realized before coming to Raiden’s Temple. “You can go. I promise that I’m okay.”

“I’m trusting you, Y/N. Try and take it slow today. I’ll be in and out to check in on you. I expect you to rest for a few days before going back to the crazy nonsense you’ve been up to.”

“I’ll do my best but I’m not good at sitting and doing nothing. I’m probably going to stretch a bit more before I rest for the night. Maybe take a walk. I promise that I won’t overdo it.” You bowed your head in respectful gratitude. Chen gave you one more hug before leaving you alone. After she left, you meditated and exercised. You needed to be okay.

You would keep fighting until you had nothing left.

[jerrydog]

I had absolutely no intention of watching The Rise of Skywalker. In fact, I’ve never even bothered watching a single trailer for this movie. The only way I’d watch this is if someone dragged me into it, which is exactly what happened. Thanks to The Last Jedi, I started viewing Star Wars movies in a different light— more objectively, so to speak. It made that cloak of nostalgia that was hindering my vision vanish completely. Because that’s all there was to it. I realized that I only liked Star Wars because of nostalgia. Because of its great significance in pop culture for the past few decades. Take that away, and I realized that most of these movies were average at best.

I was old enough to watch the prequels in cinemas. Maybe I was too young then, but I loved The Phantom Menace. This made me look forward to Attack of the Clones, which I didn’t really like at first. But everyone else seemed to like it. Everyone else was so hyped up over it, because duh— it’s Star Wars. So I somehow convinced myself that I should like it as well. Call it peer pressure or whatever. Revenge of the Sith had its issues, but overall I found it entertaining. At least entertaining enough to make me seek out episodes IV-VI on home video. Maybe it was the influence of nostalgia again, especially since my parents were huge fans. After watching all episodes from I to VI, I was already somewhat of a Star Wars fan.


I was one of those who were so excited to see The Force Awakens. After such a long time, we were gonna see a new Star Wars movie on the big screen! And it had a lot of the original cast returning! That was surely a case of pandering to nostalgia, but heck everyone including myself lapped it all up. Sure it was mostly a rehash, it doesn’t hold up that well on repeat viewings, but it sure was fun to watch for the very first time. Especially once you see all those beloved characters back on the big screen. And with that cliffhanger ending showing our first glimpse of Luke Skywalker after all these years? Man, everyone sure as hell were hyped up for the sequel.

Which was the aforementioned The Last Jedi— definitely the most divisive Star Wars movie ever made. I can’t understand how some people loved it, because I think it’s downright horrible. Apparently I didn’t think it was so bad the first time I saw it— I gave it a 3/5 on my review here. That time though one of my friends fell asleep while watching. another one was so bored he wanted to walk out. These were HUGE Star Wars fans by the way. The fact that two huge fans couldn’t finish viewing a Star Wars movie was quite telling. I saw it again with my cousin after two months because she had not seen it yet. It’s a struggle to get through such a pointless plot on second viewing. I was shocked to find out that Rose Tico didn’t die. lol. Apparently I was no longer paying much attention towards the end on my first viewing. After this second viewing I’d give it a 2/5. I managed to see it alone at home for the third time, when I did a Star Wars marathon of sorts. It was the only movie that I was struggling to finish. Since I was watching it alone in the comfort of my own room, I could rate it the most objectively. After the third viewing, I’d give it a 1/5.

I know we all have different tastes. If you liked The Last Jedi, if you enjoyed watching it, I’d respect that. But please do not refer to it as excellent, as perfect, or the best Star Wars Movie ever because it isn’t any of those. I wouldn’t call a movie with such a useless plot perfect. That main plot could have been told in 15 minutes or less. The entire movie just wasted 2 ½ hours over nothing. The side quest was just as pointless. Plot holes were numerous. Beloved characters were quickly set aside. Beloved characters start to behave in a way that’s completely out of character. A bunch of new main characters pop out of nowhere, with no other purpose than to serve an agenda. Many things did not make sense even on a science fiction movie. Characters show new skills, even though such skills were never foreshadowed in what’s supposed to be a saga. It also diverged from any logical path following The Force Awakens. In fact after viewing all Star Wars movies in succession from episodes I to XI, The Last Jedi stands out because it doesn’t conform with the universe set in the other episodes. In doesn’t fit the overarching narrative at all. They might as well have called it The Last Jedi: A Star Wars Story.

Look, I get it. Innovation and non conformity should be praised, but only when it’s done in a proper setting. If you’re going to make a movie that’s part of a trilogy or part of an entire saga, you have to be a team player. You have to stick to a certain theme. You can’t push boundaries too far, else your movie won’t feel part of a whole even though it’s supposed to be. Rian Johnson knew The Last Jedi was gonna be part of a Trilogy. You can’t verge too far when you’re making an episode in a trilogy— especially not when it’s the second installment you’re making. So yeah, I’m glad JJ Abrams did a retcon and basically ignored Episode VIII. It wouldn’t take much to ignore it anyway, considering the fact that close to nothing of significance happened in that episode. Oh yeah, Luke died/ vanished. Also Snoke, in what was the only awesome scene in the entire movie IMO. Anything else that happened were basically non events.


Now critics are complaining that The Rise of Skywalker ignores the narrative threads that were set by Rian Johnson. Oh you mean the same way he ignored the narrative threads set by JJ Abrams? I didn’t hear any critics complaining then. All I heard were praises because the movie was so inclusive, it was so empowering, it was refreshing because it didn’t feel like a Star Wars movie. How can “not feeling like a Star Wars movie” be a good thing about a movie that’s supposed to be part of the Star Wars Saga? Look, general audiences couldn’t care less about the race or gender of characters they see onscreen as long as a good story is being told. Majority of people who hated The Last Jedi aren’t single white men who are still living in their parent’s basements, so SJWs should quit that tired narrative. A lot of people who hated The Last Jedi are ordinary moviegoers who just wanted to have fun watching a movie set in the universe they’re familiar with. A lot of people hated The Last Jedi because even that was taken away from them.


Critics are also complaining about several plot points. Like how Emperor Palpatine is still alive (not a spoiler: it’s on the movie’s official synopsis, and it’s stated right at the very beginning.) I know, that totally came out of left field. Palpatine clearly died on episode VI. There were no hints or foreshadowing that he was still alive on episodes VII and VIII, even on repeat viewings. Thus is comes off as a cheap and desperate attempt. Whose fault was this though? Who decided to kill off this new trilogy’s big bad on the second episode? Rian Johnson didn’t leave much for JJ Abrams to work with here, he was basically pushed against a wall and working with his hands tied. Creating an entirely new villain would be anticlimactic, but since it’s a part of a 9 movie saga, the next best thing would be to revive a villain from the past. Another common complaint is that this new movie feels rushed, that so many things were being packed in a little over 2 hours. Again whose fault is that? If Rian Johnson didn’t waste 2 ½ on the previous movie and told a story with significant events that would feed naturally onto the next episode, an episode that would serve as a bridge between two episodes instead of looking like some disjointed amalgamation, this wouldn’t have happened would it? JJ Abrams had that unenviable task of trying to tie up so many loose ends. It would have helped if Rian Johnson tried to be a team player by tying up some loose ends from The Force Awakens and then tying up some of his. But no, he preferred to do things his own way. He preferred to be different, he preferred to leave his indelible mark. Instead of effectively bridging two episodes, he left the Skywalker Saga with no clear direction. 


I agree. This movie seemed rushed. It seemed forced. It could use a lot more time to tell the story. But considering the difficult task that JJ Abrams was given, those faults are easily forgivable. Yes a lot of it is fan service and obvious pandering. But isn’t that only fitting for what’s supposed to be the final chapter in the Skywalker Saga that started way back in 1977? Anyone who grew up with these movies would enjoy this finale. it contains a lot of the things that people have loved about Star Wars. This series has been around for more than 4 decades, fans belong to different generations. Episode XI is not a perfect movie, but it’s a perfect thank you to everyone who has been a fan. I had no intention of watching this movie, but I’m glad I was forced to give gave it a chance. It’s not the best Star Wars movie, but it’s good enough to restore my faith in all things Star Wars. 
… 
My rating: 4/5

[aphroditestummyrolls]

When the Falcon landed in the field outside his house, Kes had been living on the fumes of hope. He counted down every day of every week, waiting for a comm request, a holo-message, any proof of life from Poe. Shara’s tree swayed at the edge of the garden every day, and he chose to see it as a sign—she was keeping their boy safe, he was fine. Surely, if Poe… If something had happened to Poe, The Force Tree – the one he’d grown up watering, playing under, where they’d buried his mother – would’ve done something. 

It was more than he could handle when the Falcon—not Black One -- landed at the edge of his land and Poe didn’t come bounding out. 

Luke hadn’t been the person he expected—everyone with half a head and wasn’t living under a rock knew that Luke hadn’t been around in years. But, no one on that blasted old freighter was his son, and Kes couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak, couldn’t think beyond the distinct, terrible memory of the last time Luke Skywalker had come to this house with news of Kes’s family. 

“Hello, Kes – I’m sorry it’s been so long.” 

“S-Skywalker,” he ground out, not wanting to know – he’d rather take no news as good news than hear if… “I’ll kill you right here if you’ve come by to deliver me another body.” 

If he’d been in better control of himself, he would’ve been surprised at the vitriol he still felt, so long after he thought he’d forgiven Luke for his part in Shara’s death. But, if this was true, he wouldn’t have a shred of good faith left for the man.

Luke’s hands were up in some cautious show of surrender, when a young voice broke into Kes’s worst fears like sun through a monsoon cloud. 

“Kes Dameron? Are you Poe’s dad?” a slip of a girl came walking down the gangway, casual, a smile on her face. 

“Have you heard from him?” Kes didn’t try to hide his desperation. They were well past that point. 

She looked taken aback, gaping for a moment before sputtering out “I mean, I – yes. I comm’d into base just a few weeks back, he’s been watching out for Finn. He fired the last shots into Starkiller Base! He’s a hero.” 

The relief was unlike anything he’d felt since the Death Star and the Empire fell. It swept over him like a wave, the Force Tree continuing to sway in a silent I told you so, but Kes just gripped the fence to his garden and let out a strangled noise. He let himself finally breathe, a few tears sticking to his lashes. 

“I take it you haven’t heard from Poe.” Luke surmised uselessly. 

“Nearly 2 months of radio silence.” Kes rasped, clearing his throat and finally greeting his guests with a weary smile “It’s good to see you, old friend. I’m sorry about… I’ve been pretty high strung. C’mon in, then – your little friend clearly has a story about my boy, and I was just about to crack open a bottle of Alderaanian wine.” 

The decision to take the position they were offering wasn’t particularly difficult, if only to get a good look at his son for himself – maybe give him a strong smack upside the head for scaring his old man like that. 

Poe was a hero of The Resistance. He’d taken down something that seemed unbeatable. Kes drank more than he meant to, relief, joy, and pride leaving him nearly floating, looking out the window at Shara’s tree and knowing she was proud, too. 

So, they stayed a week. Young Rey got to train with Luke, meditate under one of the only Force Trees in existence. Kes learned about Han, and that nasty business with his and Leia’s son. He showed Rey Shara’s old A Wing, and Poe’s many scrapped speeders in the barn. She was sweet. 

He’d always said that if he and Shara had had more time, they’d have had a daughter. They’d have had to expand their house they’d have had so many kids. 

Rey was very sweet. 

Boarding The Falcon and leaving his home after so long made him feel old. His first thought had been But who’ll tend the garden? And he just had to laugh. Shara would’ve called him an old homebody and told him to get off his ass. 

The galaxy needed him – and so did their boy. 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The last blaster shots into the core of Starkiller mingled with his screams, with Yavinic songs, and his dad’s warm voice -- a Force-like pressure squeezed his muscles tight until he felt he might explode, a cry turning into a whimper as he bolted up in bed. His head pounded, the last tendrils of the dream pulsing through his skull behind his eyes. 

BB-8 charged in the corner, the soft blinking light of his sleep mode helping to level out Poe’s desperate breathing. 

He had gotten Starkiller—they had won. They had won. 

But he still felt like he’d failed. Ren had gotten through, leaving the mark of his probe on every fiber of Poe’s being, every memory in his head. 

Poe fumbled his way out of the tangle of sweaty sheets, slipping into his trousers and pulling a shirt over his head with trembling hands. His heart continued its mad hammering in his chest, just like it did every morning. If he managed to sleep at all, that is. 

The mess hall was blissfully empty as he padded through the midnight quiet of Headquarters, just like it was every night. 

Poe’s nights always seemed to go the same way, with little variations here and there. He’d wake up, try not to throw up (he didn’t always succeed), stop by the mess hall for his first cup of caf, and find something to keep him busy. 

He had repainted Black One four times in the two weeks since Starkiller. He had rebuilt her engine even more. He had spent late nights and early mornings recording Holo-messages, notifying the families of his dead pilots. 

One of the only things that stayed the same, though, was walking through the sterile white halls of the medbay to Finn’s room. He always looked so peaceful. He was always sleeping with a heavy, dreamless calm that made Poe feel like his life wasn’t completely falling apart— at least Finn’s vitals were strong. 

That night was no different. The caf was going cold in his hand, but Poe was busy watching his friend’s chest gently rising and falling with the ventilator, listening to that strong, steady heartbeat through the monitor. 

“Poe Dameron, why am I not surprised?” A familiar voice sighed from the doorway. He made a conscious effort not to jump in surprise—he should’ve seen this coming, after all. 

“Hey Doc.” He flashed her a half a grimace—soft and a little pleading, he didn’t have the energy for anything else—before looking down into his caf. He knew what she was going to say, and he wasn’t sure if he could handle it. He knew he looked like Bantha shit, he didn’t need anyone else to tell him that. 

“You look like Bantha shit.”

Nice, he thought “Still the best-looking guy in the Resistance—how’s Finn doing?” 

She huffed a breath that might have been a laugh in a previous life where she had a sense of humor. “He’s the same as he was when you asked me last night— the spinal damage is nearly healed. He’ll be stiff and weak when he wakes up, but a few weeks of intensive physical therapy should have him back on his feet. I’ve never seen someone take to the bacta so well. Your friend’s lucky.”

He nodded. The unchanged, optimistic words set something at ease in his tightly knotted gut. Finn’s chest rose and fell, his short black lashes curling away from the start of his soft, dark cheek. Poe missed his full lips and his blinding smile. People talked a big talk about Poe’s smile, but he had nothing on Finn. 

“—Commander, are you listening to me?”

“Huh?” he pulled his gritty, tired gaze from his friend to look back at the doctor’s unamused face. 

Her lips were pursed, and her eyebrow was raised. She almost looked like his mom used to, and while that used to be something that would make Poe smile, a spike of shame punched into him instead. The feeling only got worse when her expression softened. She was worried about him—just like Snap, and Jess, and even The General--

“I asked if you were feeling alright. Poe, are you sleeping at all?”

He paused, swallowed, and tried to hide it all in feigned nonchalance “Yeah, Doc—I’m fine.” 

“Yeah?” she was, if possible, even less amused than before “You’re here every night—at first, I thought you were on some sort of night shift, but The General said you’re on leave to recuperate after Starkiller. Usually, people go home.”

“There’s too much to do around here—”

“How’s Kes?”

He tried to hide the flinch at his dad’s name, but his level of success was written all over the doctor’s face. He’d failed again. 

The phantom pains of Ren’s presence in his mind curled through his blood like smoke. He couldn’t even picture Kes’s face without the urge to cry. 

“He’s alright. He fought in the first rebellion; he knows where I’m needed.”

There was a long pause, and Poe was just waiting for her to call his bluff—he hadn’t comm’d in to Yavin IV since before Jakku. Dad was probably worried sick, Poe never used to go longer than a week without contact. 

It had been nearly 2 months. 

Dr. Kalonia sighed “Have a good night, Poe. Don’t forget to get some sleep—can’t have a pilot who can’t steer straight.”

From Love Will Help You Heal on AO3

[moonlit-nightingale]

.:RP:. Cursed

Warning(s): Trigger warnings for suicide and blood.

Characters: Saranqerel ‘Sari’ Qalli (male Xaela), Akio Obinata (male Xaela), Botan Kurenai (female Raen)

Origin Date: 22 Feb 20

“Death is easy. To live is the most painful thing I could imagine and I’m weak and no longer willing to fight.” —Hannah Wright

Everything is in place. Sari has left his farewell letters and wrapped up his affairs. And so he goes to depart in the quietest way. Though a new friend picks up the signs too late...perhaps the Qalli’s story isn’t over yet.

(Note: This is from an RP session. So there is a back and forth of writers. A - in between paragraphs indicate a change in narrator.)

< Hingan >

> Xaelic <

----

A letter and small box would have been left outside Akio's room a sennight after his and Sari's last talk. Enclosed within the envelope are two documents. One is a letter, one is an official document endorsed by a Gridanian embassy, complete with a corn-yellow seal. It states that Akio is, legally, Enqtani’s legal guardian. There is also a small box like those used to sell the tokens at the charm counter.

My friend,

I know we haven’t known each other long so please forgive my selfish requests especially after I’ve placed such a burden on your shoulders. Enqtani is loved by many at the temple, however I haven’t seen her attach to anyone as closely as you. It has been a short time but a child just knows. The sealed document is official documentation that you are now Tani’s guardian. It may just be a piece of paper but with it I’m trusting you to look after her best interests in my absence.

You have been kind and a wonderful friend. And I have the utmost faith that you will be a kind and wonderful father for Tani. You mentioned once that she should know her roots. There is little to tell. I found her abandoned on the Steppe during a hunt. All I can surmise is that she was a child conceived unwillingly. She has features or the Oronir tribe which were once the leaders of the Steppe and still hold themselves in high authority over others. Not all of them are bad but it is a privileged tribe. I expect you can follow my path in thinking of what may have occurred. If Tani wants to see the Steppe with her own eyes one day, seek out Khenbish of the Buduga at the town of Reunion. He is a healer and a good man. If you can’t find him, search for Yesulun of the Qestir and her mate Khaljar of the Oronir. They are among my dearest friends even if we have parted ways. Unfortunately I am unsure of their whereabouts but their names should be known in Reunion.

Ah, but I’ve rambled on. I wish to make this process as easy as possible for you. Please rely on the others if needed. Mr. Aoki is a stern man but he has looked after Tani many times when I needed assistance.

It is little payment for what I ask for you, but I hope this gift is acceptable. Thank you, Akio, and I thank you on behalf of Tani.

Winds carry you,

-S.Q.

Inside the box, carved from a reddish wood, was a crane. Its wings are spread, every feather meticulously detailed in its carving despite the small size as its long neck and head were raised high in a cry. The figure could rest on a grown man’s palm.

-

Akio's shift for guard duty had ended earlier than expected, that night. And though he was tired, the Eastern Xaela had been in a surprisingly good mood, that ever-present smile a little more genuine as he took long, measured strides to his quarters. A good night's rest after some meditation sounded absolutely splendid to the man.

The presence of the letter and box caused the samurai to pause, however, tail quivering just slightly in alarm as he watched it with keen black eyes. But with heightened guard, there was little worry of it being any sort of trap or bait; he kneeled, slowly, picking it all up and entering his room.

In the privacy of his quarters, he allowed the mask to slip from his face; a frown pulled at his expression as he opened the box, looking over the figure with a delicate awe, and then the letter, reading over the words swiftly.

What laced through his blood could only be described as ice-cold panic as he realized what these words meant.

A Hingan snarl dropped from his lips as he spun around on his heel, movement swift as he threw open the door and bolted down the hall towards Sari's quarters. No doubt the man would want to do it there; the clinic was far too impersonal, and even from their short time, he knew Sari would never wish to inconvenience the clinic staff or distress the patients there.

Thank the Kami he was relieved when he was- it gave him some small hope that this time he may not be too late.

-

But no, the room would be empty if he should knock and try to enter. The wards' rooms couldn't be locked. It was part of the temple's design. Why would a ward of this place have secrets to hide? The futon would be folded neatly in a corner and the room immaculate. Sari never really had too many personal effects and it seemed even those were gone.

The only thing left was a small bundle of letters, left for whoever may have peeked their head in.

-

Another swear, and he turned on his heel, heading for the clinic itself. If Sari wasn't in there... He had no idea where to look. But he wouldn't stop looking.

-

His rush nearly made the clinic's night time attendant eep loudly. There was something about an empty clinic in the dead of the night just just spooked this particular Auri young lady.

"Obinata-san, kami help me." She rested a hand over her chest.

-

Akio paused, examining the lady for a long moment; the mask was back on in an instant, though the smile was strained, showing just how much of a rush she was in.

"Have you seen Sari-san?" he asked quickly, tone leaving little room for questions.

-

That tone has the girl nearly eep once more. She shook her head. "Ah, I mean, he came in earlier for a few moments to tidy up and then left about a bell ago."

-

Tidy up? Why on earth would he need to tidy up the clinic?

"Did he say where he was going? This is- he must be found." He'd apologize to the poor girl properly later- no doubt he was an intimidating sight, agitated as he was.

"He is planning to kill himself."

-

She covered her mouth at those words. "Sari-san? But..." He was always so kind! And quick to help when she'd taken over the clinic duties just a sennight ago!

"I-I don't know. I thought he was going to visit a patient because he took supplies for the intravenous bags!"

-

"Intra..."

Akio murmured as he went over the word in his mind, taking a moment to translate it before another swear fell from his lips. Without another word to the poor attendant, he spun on his heel and ran out. Where could he be?!

Perhaps he left the temple grounds? But if he did, it made it nearly impossible to find him. Unless...

But Jebe never left Sari's side, and so the little bluebird would be little help, even if Akio could find the bird in time to find Sari to keep him from doing the irreversible. Damn it...

His mind was racing as he ran through the temple grounds, searching for any clues to where the Qalli might have gone.

-

As he went by the gardens, there was angry chirping nearby. At this time of the evening? Odd. It was near the small pond where Sari often took Tani to play when she had excess energy.

The bluebird was puffed in anger, flying about the small cage propped up on a rock. It was placed near the walkway, enough that some attendant would have found it the next morning and not endangering the small bird at all.

-

Akio froze when his horn caught the angry chirping, head snapping over.

The Kami were merciful this day! He rushed over, kneeling down with a soft clicking noise as he fiddled with the latch to open the cage.

"<I am here,>" he said quickly, throwing the cage door open for the little bird. "<Take me to him.>"

-

Oh angry birb was angry. He instantly dive-bombed Akio's face before flying off at a surprisingly quick pace down the stone path that led out of the temple.

-

Akio made a short 'pbbth' sound out of reflex. Hey, he was trying to save the man!

But he didn't have time to be offended at the little angry puffball, instead darting after Jebe as fast as the two of them could go.

-

How could such a small lil blue puffball be so quick? Jebe darted over Shirogane's infrastructure, heading down the slopes towards the beaches. Even then he still flew, heading away from the beach chairs, the awnings, away from what would populated areas in the day.

-

The beach... Water...?

It would be out of the way, for certain, leaving it near impossible to find the body. Was that what he'd wanted?

Akio was nearing breathless as he kept on the tail feathers of the small bird, eyes searching for the Qalli in an almost desperate fashion.

-

Rocks dotted the sand in some of the more remote parts, harder to climb and navigate over, rougher terrain.

And that's where Sari sat motionless. He was leaning against one of the rocks facing the water. The IV line ran to that flesh arm, put in with an expert hand. The sedative bag he'd stolen weeks ago was empty, rigged up over a stick.

At least he could watch the water he enjoyed under the silvery light of the moon as he’d fallen asleep.

-

No no no no no no no no!

Akio felt as if he'd been kicked in the chest by An Yeung, breath leaving him in a wheeze as he scaled over the rocks. Normally, he wouldn't have so much as slipped, but tonight he stumbled once or twice, hands flying out to keep himself moving forward.

"<What have you DONE?!>"

The question came out in Hingan, far harsher than he'd meant it, a near roar as he slid to one knee next to the Qalli. The damnable idiot! The stupid... Poor, pained man.

Akio knew better than to let anger lead him to blame. He knew what this was like. But Sari deserved better. To die like this....

"<You're not dying tonight!>" he hissed sharply.

-

But it appeared to be far too late. Sari was a healer of both traditional and aetherial means. He knew well enough of what would happen with a fast drip of a sedative of this nature. A sleepy death, far more peaceful than what he'd deserved. No mess for others to worry about if his body was found.

He hoped no one found him. That those letters were enough.

But those hopes were gone. His breathing had stilled, no rise and fall of his chest under the Eastern cloth. Silvery hair obscured most of his face, that one eye closed, head lulled against the rock and his shoulder.

Akio had been too late, by far, it seemed.

-

No...

Once more, Akio found himself holding a body in his arms, the Xaela quick to gather the Qalli to him as he tried to check for his pulse, his breathing, anything. Teeth gritted against an all-too familiar pain, he snarled, tail lashing against the sand and rocks. Fingers curled into the fabric, head lowered as long blonde locks fell over both his own face and Sari's chest, forehead pressed to his still breast.

"<No, please,>" he whispered, pleading, begging. It was all far too familiar, and the mask cracked, old wounds bleeding once more as he hunched there.

"<You silent, selfish fool.>"

He knew it wouldn't be heard. Knew the Qalli wouldn't be able to retort.

"<What of Enqtani?!>" he yelled now. "<You were her father! No one will replace you in her life!>"

-

It was quiet for once.

A quiet he used to only be able to find in the peace of the Shroud's embrace, days on his own in the Twelveswood. Soon though, even that place became haunted to his memories. There was always...something. Something to drag the Xaela back to the dark.

So he'd given up fighting it. Fell into sin and the bottle without care.

And it was why he finally had the resolve to fade away. He was a ghost. No one would care. Everyone had their lives, their loved ones, their families. Perhaps he was envious. But he was also glad for them.

So he'd smile and wish them all well, even as he faded from their thoughts. And he'd be left to the grey shadowy mist that had become his life. Ever since that day he'd walked into that empty house, a newborn in his arms.

Ever since he'd knew, with certainty, that a happy ending never awaited a ghost.

'>You fought me with such ferocity before. Where is that beast now?<'

The drums, he knew this from before. Before when they had met, it had been a raging river, blood, and mud.

'>I am most disappointed. I cannot allow my vessel to fade in such a pathetic manner. Show me that ferocity, that fire.<'

And suddenly Sari shot awake, falling to his side and away, retching. Breaths forced into his lungs, some force pushing that deadly toxin from his body in no way that should be possible.

-

Akio let out a small, muffled noise of surprise, eyes widening as he let go and nearly jumped back, hands up. What the...

He'd been dead... Dead! There had been no breath in his breast, no pulse underneath his fingers! And so he stared, wide-eyed and startled. How...?

He didn't speak, hands lowering, before one placed itself gently on the other male's back, some minute attempt at comfort.

-

Oh it burned, it hurt, yet was so unbearably cold at the same time. Shudders wracked his slender frame as he retched again and again into the sand. Toxicity was black on his lips, something having gathered all that poison he'd given himself and thrown it out in some unnatural way.

By the time he stilled, he was breathless, gasping for air and covered in sweat. Still not fully grasping what had happened.

An exhausted look to one arm that propped him up. The IV was still there. Then...what had happened?

-

"<You're alive...>"

If it weren't for the breathless awe and disbelief in Akio's tone, one might think he'd been answering Sari's unspoken question. But he wasn't; he was trying to affirm the truth for himself, in his own eyes. Sari was alive. Somehow, in some way, something had saved him.

Even he knew this shouldn't have been possible. And yet here he was, breathing, if barely. "<Easy, Sari-san, easy.>"

-

Sounds were beginning to return outside of the wild pounding of his heart echoing in his horns. The sound of the waves over the surf, a familiar voice. Sitting up, shaky, he saw Akio at his side.

He rubbed his mouth with a wrist, still feeling that sickening bile there. "...Akio-san... How..."

It was night, he hadn't been...out...long then.

"Why am I not..."

Gods, had he failed at this too? Could he even not kill himself correctly?

-

"You were," came the answer, soft and haunted, but he smiled, despite the pain in his eyes. "And now, you are not... I do not know why. I do not know what happened."

He sighed, pulling off the top part of his kimono to drape it over the Qalli, reaching to gingerly take out the IV. It was freezing out, especially at night by the ocean, but...

He didn't seem to mind, simply holding Sari's arm to stop the bleeding from the injection site.

"Why would you..." he trailed off, hesitating as deep black eyes flitted over to Sari's face.

"... What pain you must endure," he finished with a soft murmur.

-

...why? Why couldn't he even do this right? His throat tightened, foul taste still in his mouth. Had he guessed wrong? No, a full bag at that rate of drip, it couldn't have been metabolized in time for him to live. And if what Akio said was true...

A harsh swallow as the other Xaela tended to him, Sari not fighting it one bit. His own mask was in shambles, magitek hand going to cover his face as a sob escaped.

"...I just wanted it to be over," he strangled out. "I don't want to be here anymore, please."

-

Akio paused at this, a small frown pulling at his features as the mask slipped once more. Ah... What should he do?

He knew that people would need to be informed. The priests, for certain. Perhaps the guard, and the clinic staff. Those who would be able to keep an eye out, an eye on the man.

And...

He knew it was improper, but he'd spend enough time in the West that he was able to cast aside his upbringing's teachings for a moment to simply... pull the man into a tight hug.

"...You are much too desired in this world, to leave it so," he murmured softly.

-

"That's a lie!" was the sharp denial and he wanted to fight the hug so badly but he had no strength to, even more so as the tears flowed from that one blue eye. "They all leave, they always live, no one stays. Love doesn't mean anything. Not with me. I'm all alone."

The words he'd held back for so long, for years, gushed forth without stopping. Every little thought that had passed through his mind, that he wasn't good enough, that he wasn't worthy, that he was unwanted.

-

Akio didn't know what to say. He didn't know how to soothe the pain the Qalli suffered, or how to comfort him. So he simply sat there, for the time being, holding Sari, rocking him back and forth and shushing him gently.

"<You're not alone,>" he answered finally, wiping away those tears with one thumb. "<Through all the pain, you are not alone. Your death would leave a hole in the hearts of many, one that could never be filled again. I know not what words to say to convince you of this truth. I can only speak it plainly.>"

He let out a breath, cradling him as Akio sat there, eyes closing.

"<I'm not lying. I promise this.>"

-

"It is a lie. You're lying. I'm sorry." An instant apology at the accusation but it was true. Everyone lied.

Even as he listened to those Hingan words, his spilling out of words continued in Common.

"He said that, too. He said I'd be safe. That I could cry. That we'd be happy. And that he'd never leave me. It was a lie, again and again it was a lie!"

Voice rising to a wail, uncaring of who heard, how much a mess he was, damn his mask.

-

"<Then he was a liar, and a fool, and he never should have held your heart in his unworthy hands.>"

And still, Akio rocked, gently, like the ocean they sat beside as he held the wailing Qalli, holding him securely in his arms.

"<But you have family. Family, and a child, and friends, all of whom adore you and your presence.>" His words came across far better in Hingan; he didn't mind that Sari spoke in Common. He understood him, and so he could get across his meaning better. That was what mattered, just then, to the Eastern Xaela.

"<I'm sorry that you weren't safe... You deserved to be. You have always deserved to be.>" A small, gently squeeze in that hug, the taller man curling over the smaller just slightly. "<If only I could find him and force him to his knees to beg your forgiveness.>"

-

No no no no no. It was still lies. No one wanted him about unless they needed him for something. And Sari wanted to be angry but he couldn't be. They'd found happiness. He hadn't. He couldn't fault his friends that had found peace.

But it was godsdamned lonely when he'd been so close to the same and it had drifted like smoke through his fingers.

"...n-no. He left because I wasn't..."

Good enough? Worthy?

-

"<Because why...?>" came the gentle prodding, one hand rubbing Sari's back gently.

"<If you say it's because you weren't good enough, then you view yourself too poorly.>"

-

Exhausted, face red with his tears and sorrow, he rested his chin on Akio's shoulder and nodded. It was true. He was disgusting, used, weak. That was why. Not smart enough, strong enough, charming enough, brave enough.

-

"<I refuse to believe that,>" Akio retorted firmly, resting his own chin on Sari's shoulder. "<Whoever this weak-willed  man was...>" He trailed off, shaking his head.

"<I don't have the words to describe the kind of filth he was.>"

-

"No, he..." His hands weakly rested against Akio's back. "...he was good. I just wasn't...meant for him. I trapped him."

That's what the bonding had done. Khabi had seen what a weak person he'd tied himself to. That's why he'd left, right?

-

"<If you simply were not  meant for each other, then why did he not say so?>"

Akio shook his head. "<If he wasn't able to tell you such things, to talk to you about it, he was weak.>" He pulled back, looking at Sari with a firm expression, mouth pulled into a frown as he stared the Qalli in the eye.

"<It is not your fault, Saranqerel.>"

-

...it was. It always would be. Why did everyone always leave? There was only one constant in all of that. Those words threatened to spill out but he was so tired, so frustrated that he couldn't even do this deed right.

Shaking his head, Sari looked to the sand. How could he still be crying?

"Can you..." Shite, he was fighting hiccups. "...leave me here?"

-

"No."

The word was spoken in Common now, as he shook his head. There was no way in the seven Western hells he was about to leave Sari alone right now!

"I am afraid I cannot do that."

-

"Please."

How could he go back now? Everything was in place. Things were finally ready. There was finally going to be quiet.

But there was little fight left in the Qalli as he begged. Just let him rest where he wasn't a burden to anyone.

-

"Iie," he repeated in Hingan. "You may rest with me. But I will not be leaving you alone. This is final."

Akio's tone left little room for argument- or at least that was the intent. He didn't know what else the Qalli might do, but he was damn sure not going to let him try again.

-

"...you'll leave...in time."

That was a guarantee. Just wait it out. Like everyone else. As he relaxed his hold on the other Xaela, his hand brush the hilt of that katana the samurai had at his waist.

A weapon he'd learned to use from someone else that had abandoned him, turned against him. There was a flash of anger somewhere deep and before he knew it, Sari went to draw that blade in a swift motion as he leaned back. Quickly he got to his feet, though stumbling a bit as he did so.

There was the softest 'sorry' as he raised the blade, going to drive it into his chest.

-

Akio swore, and in an instant he was on his feet, surging forward to grab at Sari- the sword, his arm, whatever he could grab.

Likely the sword, and the razor sharp blade would cut into his fingers, a pain he would brush aside in favor of throwing the sword away from the Qalli. "<ENOUGH!>" He bellowed.

-

It was just a bit too late, that magitek arm giving the former Adder the strength advantage.

...yes, pain. But it was nothing he wasn’t used to. The sword impaling him through and through before Akio ripped it from his grasp.

...had it been enough? He sunk back down to his knees in the sand.

-

Akio snarled, throwing the sword away now as he grabbed for Sari. If that was how it would be, then so be it.

He was swearing up a storm that would make a seasoned sailor tremble in fear. His goal would be to pick up the Qalli and rush him back to the shrine.

"<I will NOT have your blood on my blade!!>"

-

No! A return of that snarl from the smaller Xaela.

"LEAVE ME ALONE!"

Anger rising to meet anger. Everything had been arranged. It was time to go. He swiped with the claws of that weaponized arm but he was already feeling faint, unable to fight it when the samurai lifted him from the damp sand.

-

"I will not abandon you," came the snarled reply as he bolted over the sand and rock, booking it as fast as his legs could go.

He needed to call ahead, but his arms were full, and so he simply ran, pushing until his legs burned then pushing further.

-

The anger soon faded as the blood loss began to drain him of such things. Soon his head rested limply against Akio's chest. ...and then again he gasped for breath violently, so much like before.

No no no. Could he...not...

>A small spark of that fire, not nearly enough. Impress me, child of the moon.<

-

Once Akio finally reached the shrine, he burst in through the door, offering a silent apology to the resident Kami. Any damages would be repaired later, the Xaela was on a mission.

He called out for the night clinic as he rushed to it, ground Sari as if he were the one dying.

-

That poor young woman was still there and anxious. But at least she had a good enough head on her shoulders to have things ready for the worst. And when she saw the two Auri men, and that blood, she directed Akio to the closest bed.

"...I can't die," Sari mumbled.

-

"No, you cannot," came the response, though Akio misunderstood what it was Sari had meant, immediately rushing the man to the nearest bed and setting him down, immediately backing up to give the woman room to work

. He looked haunted, tail lashing violently as he stood there. "Anything I can do to help, instruct me."

-

There was the sound of books falling over in the back. Botan had been given a room, and yet...she was asleep under a blanket that was under a pile of books, half beneath the low sitting table. A yawn left her as she stretched herself out and nose wiggled at the scent of blood. The shadows eager, but she stilled them. Least another ghostly movement spook another clinic worker.

She got up, dressed in the standard shrine attire she had stolen from the common rooms. Her wooden sandals clicking on the floor as she approached. "Assistance needed?" She inquired with unblinking eyes. "It seems the answer is 'yes,' but will not invade unless wished for."

That tail was still, lips in a straight line, and eyes unblinking as she stood before the scene without an iota of emotion portrayed.

-

Ah the poor healer never ceased to he spooked by Botan, even after knowing she was there!

"Yes, please. This may require stitches."

Though Sari was obviously dazed by the blood loss, he knew...he knew. Why hadn't he died on the Steppe before being found by Khenbish? Had that plunge in the river, those drums...what Shonkhor had seen.

Not a crazed vision?

-

Akio simply bowed his head and stepped out of the room, remaining out of the way of the two medics as he stood against the wall, closing his eyes.

-

Blearily the Qalli tried to get his bearings. The familiar scent of the clinic. He'd been in here just bells before... His mind was still reeling from the revelation. If that's what it was and not some nonsensical shite.

-

Botan was in the room. No ceremony to the matter. Just pulling out a pouch of the pain killing incense from her sleeve and filling the bronze incensor before lighting it on fire. Then she was sitting over Sari. Her hands resting over that wound in the gut, fingers lingering over it as she focused on the composition of aether and murmured calculations on the fly as she steadily studied Sari's biology through the geometric patterns she etched in her mind.

Every bit of her form was still. The shadows seemed to withdraw, shrinking in towards her and feeding into her power as she focused. They were every bit an extension of the small raen woman.

-

To her eyes, she may have seen the shadow that had curled itself tightly into Sari's aether. Foreign, spread evenly through every aspect of the Xaela and content to be where it was. Oddly dormant, just...there. It was nothing like the near feral aggressive curse of the kitsune that he'd suffered from for a good year. In fact, that curse has been completely obliterated by this new presence.

-

Botan was aware of that presence, but did not disturb it. No. She would simply work around it, add it to her calculations, and apply new formulaic patterns of aether into Sari's own. Those that would encourage flesh to stitch itself together and slow the bleeding. Her brow creased and lips pursed together as calculations were rumbled off.

If it would not allow her to heal him, she would simply brute force her way past it. That or she would show it who the scarier creature was. Not that she thought she could bully something like this...something far older than she; a mere raen youth of twenty-some-turns.

-

Oh the presence didn't fight the healing, no. In fact it held strands of aether close, not letting the flesh fall into death. A threshold of sorts. Sari could very much end up close to death but that final step into the lifestream wouldn't be taken.

-

Interesting.

The work was slowly finished and her fingers pressed against the fabric over the wound. Those digits dipped in blood and eyes open again as she sensed how flesh gave way to her calculus. There was no grin of victory. No whoop of astonishment.

No.

This was peculiar. Curious. The violet false eye with its mandala like patterns fixed on Sari.

"You have ventured far and brought shadow back with you."

The pain killers helped sooth her own pains. A twist in her gut told her she had pushed herself too far aetherically, but she ignored it. That tail ticked and she lifted her hands away to look at the blood. No blinking, just...rubbing fingers against one another.

"Fate is not done with you yet, Saranqerel." Then she looked at the woman. "Clean. Stitch the surface wound that remains."

Then there was a yawn. Botan was ready to retreat back to where she came. Like some horror slinking away into their closet until the next time someone had need of her and her arcanistry.

-

The Auri nurse watched with some nerves. How could one not be unnerved watching Botan work? But she nodded and went straight to work. Ritsuka didn't hire weak-willed employees, after all. Especially for the clinic.

The stitches were made evenly, front and back where the blade had pierced. Then wrappings about his middle. And, in some irony, an IV attached for fluids and antibiotics.

Putting everything away and washing her hands, she went to peek out into the hallway. "Obinata-san, he'll be alright."

-

Akio turned his head, and, mask back in place, he smiled, despite the blood that coated his front. It wasn't anything he was unused to, and so it didn't seem to bother him. At least, now that Sari was okay.

"You have my deepest thanks," he said with a low bow.

-

Botan just looked at Akio. The raen quiet, and unmoving in that moment before her stomach growled to cut into the moment.

All she said: "Beef Udon. Three sets."

-

Akio turned his head to look to the other Raen with a chuckle and another bow. "My thanks to you as well- if it will serve to repay even a small portion of my debt to you, I shall see it done."

He turned then, setting off unless stopped, to go get that Raen some damn beef udon.

-

Botan sat on the stool in the room, and just waited. That tail swishing. Good. Though her attention was fixed on Sari again. Academic curiosity in that gaze.

-

The nurse was sure to return the bow with a smile before returning to the clinic. She had to write everything in the changeover log for the day shift and what supplies had been used...as per Mitsue and Mashuel's rules.

As for Sari, he drifted in and out of awareness. But that gaze on him pulled him more to reality. He tiredly looked over, pale and a mess from his sobbing earlier. "...can you see what it is...?"

-

"A thing of the Steppe. This is what their old knowledge tells me..." A hand lifts and taps one horn. Though the shadows are watching. "Well it is my knowledge now."

This is a reference to the Xaela back in the Steppe she had first aetherically devoured to fix her own aether. With it perfectly assimilated she was back to the pale flesh and red hair rather than that ugly dark complexion she never liked. Not that she was a vain creature. Not like her mess of a dead father.

"It is what kept you alive."

-

"...then it wasn't a nightmare." Slowly he pulled the sheets up to his chin. Ugh he was utterly drained on every other possible level. "I can't die then."

Of course...of course. The one solace he could bring to himself, denied.

-

"Death is not an escape." Botan said in an observant matter. "You simply pass the burden of pain to those you leave behind." A flick of the tail. "Look at your friend who tried so hard to fight to keep you alive too."

-

"...he shouldn't have."

Why? Yes, he and Akio had had some good times. But they'd known each other for a few moons. Why would he...bother?

-

Botan didn't even frown. She just fixed her unblinking gaze on Sari. What a dumb question. The tail flicked and she simply breathed deep of the pain killing smoke.

"Every life is precious, even those that are destined to be eaten." Botan explained. "It's not about the why and the who, it is about the preciousness of that gift. The holiness of that cycle."

-

"I don't want it..."

How was any of this a gift? Being left alone again and again. Never being granted a happy ending...

"...can you check on Obinata-san? I think he hurt his hands earlier."

-

It was just then that Akio entered once more, hands wrapped to keep that blood from getting into the udon.

"I do believe I have a delivery!" he announced, far too cheerful for what had happened and how he'd felt not a quarter bell earlier.

He smiled bright, looking to Botan as he held the noodles. "Where do you want me to put these?"

-

Botan looked at Akio.

There is something broken in this one.

Though she at least kept the thought in her head and didn't blurt it out with the same heavy handed honesty she served Sari. That ivory tail flicked, and hands reached out for the udon. In an instant she had the chop sticks plucking up a swirl of the good beefy udon to take a bite.

Any harsh words of knowledge were lost for now. She would just chew and think. Though she did look at the wrapped hands.

No it required none of her energy, let the other woman handle it.

-

Meanwhile in the bed, Sari had to look away. Hand clenched in the sheets. How could he look at Akio after that?

Fortunately he was saved as the nurse came by after cleanup to see that blood. "Obinata-san! What are you doing? Over here!" She grabbed his wrist, trying to pull him over to a medical station.

-

Akio had opened his mouth, wanting to speak with Sari- but then he was dragged away, and he laughed slightly. It would be easy for him to resist, but he let himself follow as if he were no stronger than a child, tail fluttering behind him.

"Hai hai, my apologies miss!"

-

Botan had a moment where she felt like laughing, but didn't. Though her gaze went back to Sari.

"Fate, the Twelve, the Kami, or whatever has given you something, Sari. An opportunity." She moved chopsticks lazily through the soup, gathering noodles. The fat things rolled around through the beef brother as she seemed to play with her food. "An opportunity that you can take, face them down with, and carve your way through the hell you've been given. The question is," she lifted the roll of noodles hanging from the chopsticks, "will you tear down your tormentors, or let them devour you?"

Those eyes looked to him unblinking. "After all, the thing attached to you does look delicious."

-

"Then take it." There may have been a bit of a snap to his tone.

-

Botan shook her head. "Looking delicious and wanting to eat it are different things." Udon noodles were slurped in not-so-graceful a way. "I want to see you challenge your path, Sari. Show whatever gods there are in this world that you will not sit under their heel no more. That is what I really want, because you're a dear friend not a morsel."

-

"I don't give a shite about any of that!" he snapped, fangs bared.It seemed sorrow had warped to anger.

He covered his face. It was so unlike him to be like this.

No one understood. No one got that he was so bloody tired!

-

Akio, from where he'd been taken by the nurse, looked up. It hadn't been hard to hear that in the quiet of the clinic. How he wanted to go to the poor man's side, offer him some comfort, even if he didn't want it.

A soft sigh escaped him, and he looked down once more, to watch as the Raen woman did her work.

-

Botan shrugged. The girl wasn't going to push back and forth with him, and simply moved to stand. There was a look at Akio, and she just left the room to go back to her hiding place in the back room to finish her noodles and get back to sleeping. It wasn't her place to fix broken minds and hearts after all.

-

The Auri nurse was very obviously troubled with the back and forth, but unsure of what to say. So she kept to bandaging Akio's hands, both disinfected and wrapped firmly.

"There. I know it's difficult but try to limit as much use as you can. Ask for help in tasks, alright?"

-

Akio smiled warmly, tilting his head to the side. "Hai,"  he said with a playful sort of reluctance. "If I must trouble others, then I shall under the doctor's orders." A crooked grin given to the Raen woman, before he stood with a bow of thanks, making his way back to Sari's bedside.

-

The Xaela's anger still simmered but there was no one to direct it towards and it quickly fizzled out as he stared out the window. A cold rain had started, obscuring the moon's light over Shirogane. Depressing. Fitting.

-

"Sari-san..."

The name was soft, gentle, as Akio watched the other Xaela, expression turning sympathetic, perhaps almost sad, if not for that smile staying in place. It ill befitted the scene.

-

That burned side was closest to Akio, hiding the one good eye which closed at the sound of his voice.

Anger that he'd been stopped.

Anger that, even if he hadn't been, it wouldn't have meant anything.

Sorrow that someone had to witness all of that.

It's why Sari had slunk off and away.

"...I'm sorry. You should take some painkillers and rest."

-

"I am not leaving you alone."

Despite the gentle tone, it was, once again, firm. Resolute. Akio simply watched as he sat there, watched the Xaela stare out the window, at the rain.

He wanted to be angry, himself, but he couldn't bring himself to be. He was just.... sad. He wanted to help, even if the two of them were near strangers.

"I will be perfectly fine," he added now, tail curling to one side as  he leaned back, smiling. "It is nothing I have not endured before. Perhaps less so."

The Xaela chuckled, tilting his head to one side.

"....I am sorry to have stopped you, Sari-san..." Once again that quiet, gentle tone. Almost regretful, but not quite.

-

What could he say to that? That he accepted the apology? No.

He'd wanted to go. He still did. But that wasn't an option anymore.

....so what did he say?

"Please don't tell anyone else. I don't want to..." Deal with it.

They'd care for a few moments, fuss over him. Then fade back into their happy lives once more. He didn't want to ne envious, bitter. Sari was glad those he knew had found peace. But...he'd wanted it too.

-

"...You need help."

It was a quiet observation, the Xaela almost frowning. Almost. He couldn't let the mask drop again, not like that. By the Kami....

He lowered his head, hands folded together against his forehead as he stared at the floor. What did he answer with? He couldn't just not tell the priests, or Ritsuka. Sari needed to be put on suicide watch, to keep him from doing it again. He needed help....

He needed to want it first, though, this much Akio knew. It was a universal truth to many problems. Someone who didn't want help would only reject it.

"I am certain you are angry with me," he said softly. "And I am certain that you will be angry with me for my answer. But you must understand, I am bound, by contract and honor, to report this."

-

"Feck honor," was the snap, though he kept staring at the window.

What did honor do? The twisted pride of the Steppe? The samurai code those at Kotodama supposedly adhered to? The Grand Company that had thrown him aside because of something he couldn't control?

-

Akio let out a breath, brow furrowing now.

"I will not throw aside mine to suit the ends of another."

-

Grumbles in Xaelic as Sari rolled over despite the pain of his injury. No, he didn't want to deal with this. He may say something more he'd regret.

Safe from death, perhaps, but not safe from the recovery that came of the incident.

-

Another sigh, and Akio settled back in his chair, arms crossed over his front as he closed his eyes. He likely wouldn't sleep tonight, instead meditating. Some form of rest, while keeping alert.

"I said I would not leave you alone, Sari-san," he said gently. "I mean this, as an oath." And Akio did not break his oaths.

-

"I didn't ask for your oath," was the grumpy mumble as he pulled the blanket over his head.

-

Nor did he ask for acceptance. But he didn't voice this aloud, simply remaining silent now.

-

And silence met silence as Sari tried to sleep. As much as he didn't want to, the stress of high emotions and whatever his body was doing sapped him.

Eventually with the sound of the cold winter rain, his eye shut and he drifted off in the darkness of his blanket lair.

[aliceslantern]

Beyond This Existence: Counterpoint, chapter 14

Summary:  After being recompleted, Ienzo vows to do everything in his power to atone for the atrocities he committed in the past. But this life hasn't been easy, and he's plagued with memories and nightmares. When Demyx suddenly reappears, the two discover that they have more in common than they thought, though the secrets in their past might tear them apart. Zemyx (Demyx/Ienzo), post kh3

Read it on FF.net/on AO3

---

Denial was always the quickest and easiest way to ease cognitive dissonance. “...I’m afraid I don’t understand whatever it is you’re implying,” Ienzo said.

“It’s mine,” Demyx said. The pain cut his voice in two. He sat completely rigid, his eyes empty and haunted.

Ienzo took a deep breath. A shaky anxiety bloomed in his chest. Demyx’s lack of memories--recognizing the phrase “Daybreak Town”--it wasn’t poetic language. It was a place. Xehanort had understood time travel more than the rest of them. Could he possibly have--? “No, it can’t be. That means that somehow you’d have to be hundreds of years old. Surely you would have recognized it before now. No. I’m sure whatever connection you feel to this musician is just that.” He waved his hand dismissively.

“I wasn’t fully human before.” He hissed the words. He breathed harshly. He touched the score, hand trembling. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly and pressed his hands over his ears.

Ienzo was numb with panic, the revelations throwing him badly. It was not possible. How could it be? And yet. This was exactly the sort of thing Xehanort would do to get a move in edgewise, to pull from the past to subvert the present. Even though he was dead, playing with innocent lives had a cost--

Demyx cried out. It was an agonized, all-too-human sound. Ienzo reached for him and shook him, but he was deep in some kind of trance and would not rouse. He took out his gummiphone and made the call.

“Even.” His own voice was ragged and utterly unlike his normal measured diction. “Even, I need help.”

“Whatever is the matter?”

“It’s Demyx--” He could not verbalize what was going on. Their connection had grown so deep, so quickly, that seeing him in so much pain was nearly incapacitating.

“Is he hurt?”

“Not physically.”

“I think I understand,” Even said. “I’m on my way.”

Demyx was whimpering, small involuntary noises. It was possible he was seeing his own memories, and the psychological and physiological impacts of that were no doubt extreme. Ienzo pulled at his wrist and found it was rather limp. He took Demyx’s pulse. High. Frightened, and impossible to maintain. If they didn’t stabilize him his heart could give out.  

Even threw open the door. “What is it? What’s happened?” He was breathless.

“I’m not really sure--he--this score… he insisted it was his, and then he went into this weird trance, and I think he’s remembering something . Even, I don’t know.”

Even crouched down next to Demyx, checked his vitals. “He’s clearly in pain, and cannot maintain a heart rate that high for very long.” He pulled a syringe and a vial out of his pocket. He stuck Demyx in the arm. Demyx started to relax as the sedation took hold. Ienzo eased him down so his head was resting in his lap. Even continued to monitor his pulse. His expression was wistful--but not at all surprised.

“You know what this is, don’t you?” Ienzo asked.

Even did not respond right away. He looked to the score, still on the piano bench. “It was not my secret to share.”

“Even,” Ienzo said a little more sharply.

“Xehanort had more than one trump card up his sleeve.” He sighed. “Didn’t you find it strange how we all arrived in groups? Us apprentices with Lea and Isa, and then the four neophytes. There was some degree of time between each arrival, but not nearly enough to justify what were were told. If we were to believe it, that humanoid Nobodies were rare, shouldn’t it have taken a lot longer to find the original thirteen?” He brushed his hair out of his face. “I’m not sure how exactly, but Xehanort pulled four Keyblade wielders from the age of fairy tales and made them Nobodies. Obfuscated their memories too, from the looks of things. I have no idea why it is he did this. But Xemnas told them at some point before the war, and Demyx asked me to investigate. I’m guessing this connection between you two only furthered his progress to humanity, and that when presented with a trigger, the memories came back.”

Ienzo looked down to Demyx, who was deep in the grips of artificial sleep. “So it’s true then.”

Even nodded. “...Yes. It’s true. I’ve studied his DNA myself. You positively would not believe it, Ienzo--”

Cold, anxious sweat gathered under his arms. “And you didn’t think it prudent to ever mention this to me?”

Even’s eyes softened. “Would it have changed your mind?”

“...No.”

“Precisely. I assure you he hasn’t experienced that passage of time.”

“...He said he’d remembered something from his past. I did not think it was this . So that means he’s really a--” Ienzo thought of Demyx’s deep distaste for fighting or violence. In this new context, it made sense. The horrors of war could have planted that seed deep into his subconscious.

“Yes.” Even smiled, aware of the irony. “I worked so hard to make replicas who could wield Keyblades, and we had four wielders right under our noses.”

“But will he be all right?”

“Hard to say. All of those memories, some doubtless very gruesome and traumatic, his heart just healing… we must be patient.”

They brought Demyx back to his room. Even started an IV, gave him more medication. Ienzo couldn’t help, only watch. Once this was all through, Even led him to the kitchen and made him some tea. Cool tears which were oddly emotionless slid down his face. Even handed Ienzo a clean handkerchief.

“It is… a lot to process,” Even said. “But we’ve seen Roxas and Xion in spells like these and they both came out on the other side. Have faith.”

“Why is healing so dangerous?” Ienzo asked.

“It’s only as dangerous as we delude ourselves,” Even said finally. “Unfortunately, the spell he was under was a strong one.”

“Do you think he’ll be different?” His voice was a whisper.

Even considered this. “Perhaps,” he said. “But no different than you yourself are. But the boy loves you, Ienzo. You can tell by the way he looks at you. I don’t think that will change.”

Ienzo looked down at his hands. “Is it typical, to feel this amount of shock?”

Even touched Ienzo’s forehead. “Like many such reactions, it’s a stress response.”

“It is so… strange.” He did not meet Even’s gaze and instead traced the woodgrain of the table with his eyes. “With all that’s happened in the past month or so, I find myself wondering if it is good to allow such vulnerability.”

“I admit the situations have been… extreme.” Even flinched. “But we’ve spent long enough closing our hearts and minds off to others, don’t you think?”

“You’re one to talk,” he retorted. “You’ve been holed up in your lab all day every day, barely speaking to anyone. You seem to be the most hesitant of us all to accept humanity. Atonement aside.”

“I don’t deny it.” Even sighed. “But I have not spent my time experimenting.”

“What are you doing, then?” Ienzo asked dryly.

“Writing. Reflecting, mostly. Things always were the most tangible to me when they were on paper. If I can record my thoughts as data, perhaps I can make sense of them.”

“Is it working?”

“Heavens, no,” Even said. “But if I do not tread these tides of emotion, then I am more foolish than I thought.”

“What is it you feel?”

Even frowned. “Mostly--remorse--” He admitted. He shook his head. “As scientists, one of our duties is upholding a moral code. Needless to say, we broke it. Xehanort was manipulative, yes, but while you were a child, I was an educated man who should have known better. I did know better. But I figured the gains I made would offset the costs. They have not. And now I want to use my skills for the greater good.”

“Do you think the replicas could have anything to do with that?”

“Perhaps. Perhaps not.” Ienzo waited for him to elaborate, but he did not. “I must apologize to you, Ienzo.”

It took Ienzo’s dazed mind a moment to process whatever for. “Even--”

“We can blame Ansem’s utter lack of paternal instinct all we want, but ultimately it is my fault that this all happened to you.” For the first time, Ienzo noticed glints of gray in Even’s blonde hair--gray borne of age and stress, not from his time as a vessel. “I should have understood Xehanort’s machinations and taken you out of that mess, but I was selfishly nearsighted. Things are always clearer in retrospect. Are they not? You deserved a normal childhood, a normal adolescence, and got anything but. And years of fear and trauma on top of it.”

Ienzo sighed. Despite the real truths in what Even said, Ienzo did not find any bitterness or resentment within himself. “I forgive you,” he said.

“You’re a kind young man,” Even said. He smiled sadly. “I will try to make this up to you.” He stood. “I’m off to do some reading. There might be a better way for me to help Demyx after all.” He squeezed Ienzo’s shoulder.

Ienzo went to bed.

His mind felt oddly devoid of thought and for a long time he watched the light change on the ceiling. He must have fallen asleep, because the next thing he became aware of, it was the middle of the night and he was dreadfully cold. He burrowed under the covers.

It’s time to make sense of things, Ienzo.

Really this was something like heartache and he was struck by just how unfair the whole situation was. Xehanort was dead and he was still tormenting them both, jerking them back and forth on his omniscient puppet strings. Ienzo had lost his childhood; Demyx had lost all his memories. Xehanort had manipulated both of them, molding them like clay, while they remained none the wiser.

Ienzo sat up. He was livid. More aptly, really pissed off. What was the result of all this manipulation? And why did it feel so meaningless? If it weren’t for Xehanort--

If it weren’t for Xehanort…

Ienzo’s anger cooled as quickly as it had come, hardening into a sour pit in his stomach. So much suffering. There had to be something else he could do, and not just for Sora. What about the others who had been lost, killed or worse by their experiments?

He stood up, put on shoes, and started walking.

In a sort of haze, he passed by the usual lab and over to the door to the containment cells. Nobody had come down here in a long time; least of all himself. The air down here was even colder--he could see his breath--and the crystal sconces didn’t penetrate the gloom. This was dangerous. He was weaponless, powerless, and in distress; no doubt bait for Heartless. Ienzo remembered the keycode for the door. He reached towards the keypad. It was so much lower than it had once been. It was a simple number--all he had to do was punch it in.

He could not catch his breath. The air smelled faintly smoky, a precursor to the darkness no doubt contained within. He sank weakly to his knees.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m truly…”

“Ienzo? What on earth are you doing down here?”

Ansem’s voice startled him. The flashlight he carried cast peculiar shadows across his face. “I could say the same,” he said. He forced himself to his feet.

Ansem had a tablet computer tucked under his arm. “Data recovery,” he said. “I had to wait for the download to complete.”

“Data,” Ienzo said numbly.

“I suppose you’re wondering what I want with it.” This basement was so deathly silent that Ienzo could hear his own breathing. “Come. I’ll share my story if you share yours.”

Ienzo followed after Ansem, icy curiosity replacing his previous rage. Ansem took him down hallway after hallway, some of which were familiar, some of which were not. Ienzo knew a lot of this castle was unexplored, and had a lot of secrets that even they did not know about. Its weight seemed particularly heavy.

They did not return to Ansem’s quarters. Instead, these infinite hallways trailed out into, of all things, a large greenhouse.

Many of the plants that had been in these pots and planters had long since withered and died. The crystal walls were dingy with years of dirt, scratched and eroded from the weather. Power cords snaked from a hole in the chipped marble floor to a small console computer. Floodlights and a space heater made the room brighter than it would be otherwise.

Ansem cleared papers off of a folding chair and gestured for Ienzo to sit. He turned up the space heater.

“A strange workspace,” Ienzo commented. “Stranger still, your decision to hide.”

Ansem plugged in the tablet and began uploading the files. There was more silence, weird and flexible. “Why were you in the basement?”

Ienzo blinked. He felt an odd shiver of distrust, and it sat poorly in his throat. “Xehanort’s parade of suffering is still rippling through this castle,” he said. “Demyx and Luxord, Elrena and Lauriam--they’re Keyblade wielders. He pulled them from the age of fairy tales, hid their memories, and tried to use them as vessels.”

Ansem shook his head.

“Xemnas told the four of them during the war. Demyx had Even parse his DNA, and sure enough, it’s true.” He spoke rather numbly. “There was a sheaf of papers in one of your bookcases. It was a musical score from that time. I don’t know if you knew about it, or if it just ended up there, but it turns out Demyx wrote it. Now that he’s human… well. His memories are all coming back.” He drummed his fingers on the edge of the chair. “And seeing him experiencing that--”

“It’s always harrowing to see a loved one in pain,” Ansem interrupted.

Ienzo felt a flush of frustration. Why were they all feeling the need to comment on their relationship all of a sudden? “Yes. I got to thinking about the legacy of suffering Xehanort had inflicted on us. I started to wonder if there might be a way to help the people we hurt find peace.”

“I am not so sure about that. There are no bodies, Ienzo. And I’ve no idea if whatever lurks down there has existed since the experiments, or if it’s drawn from a greater pool of darkness.”

“Then why were you recovering the data, if you’re not sure it can be of use?”

Ansem looked briefly to the screen. “I had thought such knowledge should be destroyed,” he muttered. “I had gone down there with every intent to rip apart the console if that’s what it took. But then I realized. The lessons we’ve learned since those experiments can be a cautionary tale. People should know what we did. If we’re careful, we can help everyone else learn from our mistakes so that it won’t happen again.”

“I want to see it.”

“What was that?”

“The rest of the data. I would like to see it.” Ienzo could feel the idea blooming within him. It was a reckless, exhilarating feeling. If he was right about this, he could help everyone.

“Of course you may--once it’s all downloaded.”

Ienzo nodded. Even the volumes he’d read those weeks ago had only been part of their records. Soon it would be time to dive deeper. But for now, he had another task.

----

Before he went further, he checked in on Demyx.

He was asleep. He breathed a little too deeply and evenly, his form immobile. Ienzo wasn’t sure if Even was still dosing him, or if this stillness came from the memories recovering from a more subconscious place. These things were so hard to tell. Ienzo kissed him on the forehead and left.

Even, too, was asleep when Ienzo found him on the cot in his lab. Of course he was; it was still rather late at night. Ienzo wondered if he were a tad manic. He should go lay down himself, wait until a reasonable time to ask for this favor. He turned to leave.

Even had always been a notoriously light sleeper. “Who’s there?” he snapped, grabbing a scalpel from the table beside him. “Oh… Ienzo? Is something wrong? Is it Demyx?”

“No, he’s still stable--it’s fine. It can wait until morning.”

Even scowled. “Clearly not, if you felt the need to come to me at this godforsaken hour.” His expression softened. “Whatever is the matter?”

“Do you think it’s possible to regain our powers?”

Even considered this. He rubbed sleep out of his eyes. “Why on earth would you want that?”

“Illusion let me see memories. If I can gain control over it, maybe I can help purge the darkness in the basement and help whoever’s stuck down there find peace.” He bit his lip. “Demyx is likely to be shaken up. Perhaps I can help him too. If I can make order of his memories, perhaps he will wake up without too much damage to his heart.”

Even thought a long moment. “Have you even tried casting a spell?”

“Once,” Ienzo said. “It… did not go well. I had a terrible migraine. I was wondering if you might have some sort of medicine that might let me work through the pain.”

Even shook his head. He stood and crossed over to a bookshelf near the cot. He pulled out one of the volumes and started riffling. “You see… the thing is… such elemental power comes from the will, typically as a manifestation of some psychological trait or another. Hence why, in the absence of a heart, we were able to use it as Nobodies. But now that you are human… you’ve no need for such defense mechanism. Your being is whole. Trying to invoke it could be disastrous. The entropy of it alone would, in the best possible scenario, induce sleep.”

“Sleep?”

“Sleep akin to death,” Even said darkly. “They must lie so closely together. And you must hope you find the strength, fast enough, to save your life before you’re claimed by the other side. Ienzo.” His gaze was tense, frightened. “Would the risk be worth it? Is there not another way you can atone?”

“What about the reward?” Ienzo asked.

“Ienzo--”

“Please, Even. I’ll be careful.”

He crosses over to a cabinet and opened it. Bottles and bottles of pills lined the walls. Even considered several before he picked up one. “Take halfof one of these,” he said sternly. “You’ll feel no pain. But should your nose start bleeding, drop everything instantly and rest.”

“Is that a side effect?”

“No. But that’ll be entropy wreaking havoc on your body.” Even pressed the bottle into his hand. “Let me watch over you.”

Ienzo traced the ridged cap. “I think this is something I have to do on my own.” He’d be going to a very painful place.

Even scoffed. “You children always think you know what’s best. Fine. But if you do not text me within three hours I will hunt you down.”

“Very well. Thank you, Even. This means a lot to me.”

“Don’t thank me yet.” He smiled tiredly.

[moczothe1st]

Let’s Play Fire Emblem IV: Genealogy of the Holy War, Part 22:  The Last King of Jerkland

Part 21

Hey all! Welcome back to another exciting week of Fire Emblem IV, where we once again ignore the actual evil empire to go rough up another, smaller empire, basically because they’re louder and more annoying and invading is the only way to make them stop bitching for five minutes.  You might not think this is a priority, but you don’t have Lewyn’s strong tactical mind.  A new chapter, so let’s get right on into it.

As their headquarters, uncertain of how to next act. Beyond Meath and the engulfing maw of its peaks lies the dracoknights’ kingdom, Thracia.

(“He also just betrayed Arvis last week by letting Blume die so he could invade the north, but we’re going to pretend that didn’t happen, shut up.”)

Thracia is the only state anywhere in Jugdral regarded as an ‘ally’ by the Grannvale Empire.

(Guess which two of these quirky minibosses will not be important. Hint: it will be the two who we’ve killed before only they had different names and maybe slightly different hair colors.)

Travant has fortified his kingdom for one final, full-scale showdown with the liberators. And Thracia’s people hardly offer Seliph an eager welcome; fearing Seliph as a conqueror, they flock in droves to take up arms themselves.  How could any justice lie in this conflict? For whose sake is this war being fought?

(… For Leif, mostly?)

For the first time, these questions now shake Seliph and his army’s resolve…

(Except, again, for Leif. He’s pretty down with this whole situation.)

Travant, Eeeeew: I’ve no interest in any more excuses! Don’t you dare belittle me, Altena. You are a warrior beyond compare, and you and Arion embody my will beyond these walls. I expect no less than for you to do your duty! And what do I find instead? You’ve ignored my orders, left an entire platoon to the slaughter, and strolled home as if nothing ever happened! I’ve never been more disappointed in you.

Altena: I’m sorry, Father, but at least let me explain! I could never agree with such tactics, which enrich only us at the expense of everyone else! How could you ever expect the proud Thracian people to accept prosperity built on the bones of others? Please, Father, rethink your ways!  

Arion: Enough, Altena. There’s no place here for such meddling. Still your tongue and obey Father! Father, bear in mind Altena is still young and unseasoned. I suspect she merely found the last battle too overwhelming a prospect. Please forgive her, even just this once.

Travant: You know, Arion? If you’d just hold back on the coddling, perhaps Altena wouldn’t be so stubborn! … Look, Altena. I’ll give you one last chance. Take a dracoknight platoon and retake Meath. If you slip again, then daughter be damned, I will accept no excuses! Understood?

Altena: Yes, Father…

Travant: Phew, family resemblance indeed… it’s plainly obvious that she loathes me.

Arion: Father, you have to remember that she’s still a child. Like all children, she has yet to realize that her thoughtless words have real effects.  

(I forgot what a giant enabler Arion is.  You could try standing up to someone, sometime, pretty boy.)

Travant: Hmph, I suppose… I’m off to Kapathogia. I hear Hannibal’s found himself some funny ideas about my plans. And so it falls to me to ensure he loses them before somebody gets hurt…

(*sigh* You’re going to kidnap a baby again, huh.)

Arion: I’ve never seen Father so fearful… what could possibly have happened…?

(He’s realized he’s a shitty general and started a fight he can’t win? Because I am… I am just going to wreck him. Nothing personal. … It’s a little personal.)

Travant: Your armored knights will join her at once!

Hannibal: Your Majesty, I’ve said it a thousand times and I’ll say it again. There is no use fighting this war! We must arrange a truce with the liberators if we wish to recover the strength to endure! Bowing to the Empire was a despicable choice to start, one which left us serving our citizens to the true enemy on a gilded platter.

Travant: I did not ask for your opinion! The rebels have slaughtered my soldiers and stolen our territory. The hour is far too late for a truce!

Hannibal: I thought as much… very well. I suppose I have no choice.

Travant: What’s this, Hannibal? Do I hear traitorous rumblings coming from that mouth of yours?

(… No?)

Hannibal: Come now, your Majesty! Never would a warrior such as I consider turning my cloak. Traitor, indeed!

Travant: Really, now… then I trust you won’t object to a test of your warrior’s loyalty. Until the war reaches a victorious end, Hannibal, I’ll be taking care of your son.

(Called it!)

Hannibal: I beg your pardon, your Majesty?! Do you truly have so little faith in me?!

Travant: You have nothing to worry about, Hannibal. If you don’t intend to betray me, then I don’t intend to so much as scratch the boy.

Hannibal: …

Travant: Men! Bring me Hannibal’s son!

(Okay, not a baby, but it’s the thought that counts.)

Travant: Remember, Hannibal. You have nothing to worry about, so long as you behave yourself. As soon as this war is won, you’ll get him back. I admit I don’t understand, though… the boy isn’t even your real son. How could he have such sway over you?

(FOOOOOOOOOOORESHADOWING)

Hannibal: Cairpre has brought much joy into my life. A true family transcends simple blood…

Travant: Ohohohoho! Could it be? Does Thracia’s great statesman have a soft spot for children? Now, then. Thracia depends on you, Hannibal!

(What a dick!)

(Nobody likes a suck-up, Distler.)

Distler the Suck-up: Rest assured, milord. Luthecia is an impregnable wall! I’ve seen to it myself.

Travant: I’ll hold you to your word. Now, I’ve reason to doubt the loyalty of Hannibal at Kapathogia. I’ve taken his son hostage, just in case, and I’m leaving him to your custody.

Distler the Suck-up: Yes, sir! I’ll not let him out of my sight! But should Hannibal turn his cloak-

Travant: Then kill the son. Don’t be lulled into offering even a child any mercy.

Distler: Understood, milord.

Travant: Good. In that case, I think I’ll leave the defense of Grutia to your hands. Try not to get too cocky with the rebels, Bishop. They’re of a treacherous sort.  

(“Also, that kettle is black.  Hm…. When did I become a pot? This must be Altena’s fault.”)

(“That’s because it is meaningless. Unfortunately, it seems someone on the writing staff really digs their Thracian Peninsula D&D game setting and managed to worm it into the story here. And that, Seliph, is why you always hire an editor.”)

Lewyn: The point of a battle comes from how you conduct yourself in it, Seliph.

(That doesn’t even make sense!)

Lewyn: And we hardly have much choice at this point!

(… okay that’s a better reason.)

Seliph: But what of that dracoknight who was watching us from the Manster peaks? I’ve seldom seen such a sad look in anybody’s eyes… how could I fight somebody like her…?

(Well, I mean, not to spoil you or anything, but…)

Lewyn: That’s enough, Seliph! This is war! If you can’t handle it, then leave! Run home to Tirnanog!

(… Where the fuck did that come from?!)

Seliph: Lewyn…

Oifey: I beg your pardon, Lord Lewyn?! His Majesty is tired and stressed! Such harsh words are uncalled for.

Lewyn: Look, I know. But everyone else is just as stressed, yet they all know we can’t afford to stop. With the resurrection of Loptyr on the horizon, it’s crucial we get to Grannvale and stop the world falling to ruin while we still can.  

Seliph: Thank you, Oifey… but Lewyn speaks the truth.  An inevitable battle lies ahead, and if we see in it naught but futility, then my duty is to carve my own purpose into it. I’ll never again flinch or turn away!

(Seliph could see her eyes, apparently, so if Leif missed her entirely he’s got a lot to learn about being a chosen prince with bad hair.)

Leif: Oh, the woman? I saw her. I don’t believe it’s every day that you encounter a female dracoknight, is it? Was there something amiss about her?

Finn: It was her weapon… she was wielding Gae Bolg, Leonster’s holy lance. And I sensed an aura cloaking her… the holy aura of Nova, like your father.

Leif: What? What are you saying, Finn?!

Finn: There is only one explanation, my lord. Your sister, Altena, must not have died in the Thracian ambush seventeen years ago.  Nor was Gae Bolg lost.

Leif: Altena?! She’s… she’s still alive?! Then what in the blazes was she doing commanding a Thracian army?

(… Duh, dude.)

Finn: I’d surmise that Travant took her back to Thracia as a child, and raised her as his own.

Leif: Huh… who knew a man as cold as Travant could do something so humane?

(… Leif, for fuck’s sake, try to keep up here.)

Finn: It isn’t so simple, milord. Altena is the inheritor of your father’s holy lineage from the goddess Nova. As such, unlike you, she is capable of wielding the Gae Bolg. Power is the only reason a man like Travant would ever be so kind to his enemy’s child.  

Leif: So he’s tricked my sister just so he can use her as a weapon! Travant… what a disgusting man… … I want to help her, Finn. If we can make her see the truth, I know we can work together to avenge our parents.

Finn: My lord, I believe you’re the only one who could possibly convince her now. Even after all these years, my lord, you are still her brother. I’m certain she will open her heart to you if you try.  Please, my lord. Please save Lady Altena…

Whoo! And that’s a hell of an infodump, but time to start the map.  First, of course, it’s time to ignore the enemy for five hours while we engage in gladiatorial combat for blood money.  This time, though, I’m going to do things a liiiiittle differently. It will be pricey, but anyone… let’s who is level 15 or lower, and who has access to a solid 40K gold, will be shelling out the money to buy the Paragon Band before their run and then sell it when they’re done.  This is expensive, seriously expensive, but it will double everyone’s arena EXP gains and should shoot all our levels quite a bit. And we have cash to spare, so why not?  Catch you on the flip side!

Seliph: Seven wins, gained two levels: +3 HP, +1 Strength, +1 Speed, +1 Magic, +1 Luck, +1 Defense

Julia: Seven wins, gained one level: +1 HP, +1 Strength, +1 Resistance

Shanan: Seven wins, gained two levels: +3 HP, +2 Skill, +2 Strength, +1 Speed, +1 Resistance

Oifey: Six wins, gained two levels: +2 HP, +1 Strength, +1 Luck

Ulster: Seven wins, gained five levels: +5 HP, +5 Skill, +3 Strength, +1 Speed, +1 Luck, +2 Defense

Larcei: Seven wins, gained five levels: +6 HP, +3 Skill, +1 Strength, +2 Speed, +3 Luck, +2 Defense

Lester: Seven wins, gained four levels: +4 HP, +2 Skill, +1 Strength, +3 Speed, +1 Magic, +2 Luck, +2 Defense

Dermott: Seven wins, gained four levels: +4 HP, +3 Skill, +2 Speed, +3 Luck, +2 Defense

Nanna: Seven wins, gained three levels: +3 HP, +2 Speed, +1 Magic!!!!!!, +1 Luck, +1 Defense, +1 Resistance

Fee: Seven wins, gained five levels: +5 HP, +2 Skill, +1 Strength, +2 Speed, +3 Magic, +3 Luck, +2 Defense, +3 Resistance

Ced: Seven wins, gained two levels: +2 HP, +1 Skill, +2 Magic, +1 Luck, +1 Defense

Arthur: Seven wins, gained five levels: +8 HP, +1 Skill, +3 Magic, +2 Luck, +3 Defense, +3 Resistance

Tinni: Seven wins, gained five levels: +5 HP, +1 Skill, +4 Magic, +4 Luck, +1 Resistance

Patty: Seven wins, gained two levels: +3 HP, +2 Strength, +1 Speed, +1 Luck, +1 Resistance

Faval: Seven wins, gained two levels: +3 HP, +2 Speed, +2 Luck, +1 Defense

Leif: Seven wins, gained five levels: +7 HP, +1 Skill, +1 Strength, +3 Speed, +2 Luck, +1 Defense

Johan: Six wins, gained levels: +2 HP, +1 Strength, +1 Speed, +1 Defense

Finn: Six wins, gained one level: +1 HP, +1 Skill, +1 Resistance

Ares: Seven wins, gained four levels: +4 HP, +2 Speed, +1 Magic, +2 Luck, +2 Resistance

Not bad, though it’s hard not to be a little sad at the people starting to fall behind; anyone who isn’t a kid and doesn’t have a holy weapon is going to start finding it harder to get all seven wins from now on.  Johan, Finn, and Oifey just couldn’t pull through no matter how much I screwed around with the RNG… er… I mean… no matter how… fair I was.  On the bright side, though, we do get four brand new promotions!

Larcei, Fee, Arthur, Tinni, and Dermott are also on the verge, having all hit level 19.  So basically, it’s hard to look at this as anything but a major win.  Go go combat potential! And we will need it, since shit’s about to get fucked.  

Here’s the chapter map; we start in the northeast corner, and Hannibal and Altena’s units will start moving toward us immediately.  Altena, obviously, we can just talk to with Leif, that’s no biggie. But to recruit Hannibal (of course he’s recruitable, why would you even question that) we need to go save his son from Distler in Luthecia castle. The issue comes from the fact that Hannibal and his own castle are between us and there, and he’s of course hostile.  Which means we need to get Seliph and presumably some other units for backup past Hannibal, without killing the dumb bastard, save Cairpre, and get him back to talk some sense into his dad. Again, without killing him. There’s a trick to it, but it’s not guaranteed to work. In general the whole thing is a pain in the ass and frankly it might be better for everyone’s sanity to just kill Hannibal, but that just ain’t how I roll. Let’s do this shit!  

First, though, Faval and Patty have a chat.    

(I feel like I have to mention she literally used her ability to steal money as the reason Seliph should keep her around.)

Faval: Ugh. Look, I don’t care if you’re just stealing from the enemy. I don’t like you stealing at all!  Knock if off, okay?

Patty: What, do you think I like doing this? That I steal for the fun of it?! This army needs to eat, y’know, and we need gold for that! We don’t have all that many options here!  

Faval: Yeah, but haven’t you heard what people are saying about you? I’ve caught people mocking you, like being a thief’s a walking punch line… “What else can ya expect from a pirate’s brat? Like mother, like child,” they kept saying. Of course, I wiped the floor them…

Patty: It doesn’t matter what people think, Faval!  Let them say whatever they want. Doesn’t change a thing about Mom… and it doesn’t change that she was heir of Ullur the Crusader! I was in tears when Lewyn told me about her… I’ve never been so happy!

Faval: Yeah, me too… y’know, we haven’t exactly had the easiest lives… poor orphans and all that. I never even dreamed our mother could actually be a noblewoman!  I don’t suppose you remember anything about her, Patty?

Patty: Nope, not a thing. You?

Faval: Yeah, but… only a little. She was a kind and beautiful woman…

(“And she constantly smelled of the blood of her many, many victims.”)

Patty: So is she… do you think Mom’s dead?

Faval: I can’t say for sure… but as soon as the war’s done with, Patty, we’re gonna go look for her. We’ll find our mother… Bridget… and even though we don’t know his name, maybe we’ll find our father too.

Patty gains +1 Luck from this conversation, and that must be the tipping point because canonically Bridget did survive and they eventually find her. It doesn’t make a lot of sense, but it’s canon.  Look up Fire Emblem: Thracia 776 for details, but I wouldn’t recommend actually playing it.  

Now, the majority of the army deploys in standard horde formation and getting ready to stab the crap out of every Thracian, but Fee is going to run off on her own.  See, all the map’s villages are directly to the west of the starting castle, across a mountain range, and she’s the only one who can reach it in time to kill the bandits before any of them get destroyed.

Only the one with the axe off to the side will destroy any villages, so we have time, but I don’t want to lose a single one.  Some of them have items, if I remember right, and even if they don’t I just blew like a billion gold on making everyone super buff.  End turn!

Hannibal: Wait. For the time being we should remain on the defensive. I’d prefer to avoid any  needless skirmishes with the enemy.

Lieutenant Palette-Swap: But sir, what about…

Hannibal: … My son. I know, but… for now, I would rather hold back and let the battle unfold, first. My apologies, Kanatz, but I’d like you to take charge of defending the castle.

Kanatz: As you will, sir!

Okay, I guess only Altena moves toward you on turn one. I coulda sworn they both did, but whatcha gonna do? Second verse, same as the first; no enemies are in range, so I move up toward Hannibal’s line and have Fee continue making a beeline straight west across the mountains.  Unfortunately, all of hannibal’s units are armor knights, meaning you have to get right up in their noses before they can move far enough to attack you.  I suspect next turn will look much the same as this one.  End!

Cairpre: Papa doesn’t want to fight! He’s out there risking his life all because of me…

(Cairpre has a distinct, deep misunderstanding of what a hostage is, I think.)

Distler: Silence, boy! If Thracia’s legendary Shield refuses to ply his warrior’s craft of his own will, then we’ll force him to by any means necessary!

Cairpre: Oh, papa… sorry…

Cairpre might be a bit of a loser.  Off to the southeast, Altena’s unit moves up again; they’ll be attacking us next turn, and will be intercepted by Tinni, Arthur, Julia, Leif, Nanna, and Faval. The rest of the team moves forward, pausing in the edge of Hannibal’s unit’s movement range on the forest tiles for extra sweet, sweet defense.   Oh, and Fee continues her field trip, of course. End turn, and let’s do this!

Hm. Not great. Tinni, you could stand to dodge. And two of the wyverns went off after Finn, because he was on the edge of their range and I didn’t notice. Buuuut, I think we got this. First step, I think, is to wipe out Altena’s unit so Leif can reach her.

Awesome!  Now Leif can reach Altena, and…

*twitch*  Welp, mountains fucked that one up! Hopefully Altena won’t shank someone to death or try to fight someone who’s invincible.

Okay, I may have to reset this, but for now let’s play as though it’s not a horrible issue.  Western front, rock out.  

That was not as many kills as I’d been hoping for!  This… is going to hurt. But on the plus side, I was already half-planning to reset, so… end turn.

…. Shit. Ares, please go easy on him?  Hannibal, please use Pavise! Twice, possibly!

FUCK YOU, you stupid old bastard.  Ulster should definitely have died in over the course of this encounter. Did you see how low his health got?! He should not have survived what he did here!  And yet, he did. Everything was going not merely fine but miraculously fine. And then this jackass, who I must note had a very solid chance to survive this battle thanks to his broken obnoxious special ability, runs up to commit suicide and just leaves the Pavise behind on the kitchen table, I guess.  

I should leave him dead. I should leave him dead.  

…

*sigh*

Reset.  

To the east, the people who did their fucking jobs last time repeat a smashing victory, with one difference: I don’t fuck up my movement and can get Leif close enough to chat with his sister.    

(*snerk*  “Waaaaaaait!” What a drama-prince.)  

Leif: I… I am Leif, of House Leonster.

Altena: Oh, I see… the famous Prince Leif, is it? In case it wasn’t obvious… and evidently, it wasn’t… I am Altena, daughter of Travant.

(Altena’s snark game is on-point, damn. Though I guess it’s easy to be snarky when your enemy appears to have an unkempt porcupine on his head.)

Leif: Listen to me, Altena! Your true parents are Prince Quan and Princess Ethlyn, whom Travant slew seventeen years ago. You vanished in Travant’s attack, and so too did Gae Bolg, the sacred earth lance of Leonster… the very lance resting in your hand as we speak! Only a true heir of House Leonster can wield Gae Bolg.  

Altena: What are you talking about?! Are you seriously trying to claim my true father is my king’s arch-enemy?!  That could never be… it mustn’t…

Leif: Look into my eyes.  If anything can prove the truth of my words to you, it will be my eyes. Please, sister…

Altena: Fine… What is this…?!  I know you’re lying, but… but I can’t bring myself to doubt you anymore…

(This would stretch belief quite a bit, if it wasn’t established by earlier interactions that Crusader heirs with similar bloodlines actually can instinctively sense each other. So it only looks like Leif has brainwashed her with his hypno-eyes.)  

Leif: Altena…

Altena: Wait!  I… I must speak with Father. I need to confirm this…

(Bad, bad plan, honey.)

Altena: Or was my father really Prince Quan?!

Travant: Feh… I see you’ve found out at last. Well, I suppose it was only a matter of time before this day came. It’s true. Quan did indeed sire you, but what difference does that make? It doesn’t change that it was I who raised you.

(“Am I not the one who has stomped all over your spirit and morals since you were a little girl? Am I not the one who screams at you to slaughter children and the elderly while your heart rots and dies, sick with the weight of your sins? If that’s not fatherhood, what is?”)

Altena: So you… you murdered my parents?  Father…

Travant: Heh…. I suppose I did.  Quan and Ethlyn died at my hand. Do you take issue with that? War is Hell, Altena. War claims lives. Worrying now won’t change a thing.

(What a dick!)

Altena: Gah… how dare you?! How dare you mislead me all these years, Fath… no, Travant! 

Arion: I cannot allow this. If you dare to turn on Father, you’ll have to contend with me first!

Altena: W-wait! I can’t fight you, Arion! I could never-

Arion: It’s too late for you to stand down now. Farewell!

Altena: Nnnngh… Arion…

Travant: … You didn’t just kill her, did you, Arion? You know, you didn’t need to go quite so far…

(Now is when you decide to be a parent?!  What a dick!)

Travant: Eh, no matter. I’m going to join the fray, Arion. I suppose there’s little choice now. You’re in charge of defending the castle.

Arion: Understood, Father.

Travant: I’ll entrust this spear to you… and with it, the future of Thracia.  

Arion: Hold a moment, Father… this is Gungnir! What is the meaning of this? How do you intend to fight without it? Unless… Father, you can’t be-

Travant: I am. Frankly, Arion, I’ve had enough. Thracia is yours to do with as you see fit. But we don’t need to be hated by their kind…

Arion: Are you seriously suggesting I should seek a truce, Father?! No! Never! To comply with the rebels now would be unthinkable!

Travant: As I said, Thracia is yours. Do as you see fit. All I ask is that you find a way to liberate our people from their suffering. Farewell, Arion.

Arion: … Father…

Yeah, that just happened, and… I kind of hate it.  I’m going to be honest, and also going to go off on a little rant again, because this moment always makes me kind of angry.  It feels like Travant and Arion swapped personalities for this conversation. See, the thing is, like basically all FE characters, Travant is an archetype; in particular, he is the ‘Michalis.’  A smug, ambitious jackass, almost always a wyvern rider, who really thinks he is the main antagonist but who is generally more of a speed-bump you run down on your way to the real threat. And the thing that defines Michalis types is that they generally aren’t sympathetic in any way. They’re bastards and you enjoy the moment you riddle them with arrows.  

Now, there’s nothing wrong with subverting archetypes.  If they want to play around and make a character who looks like a Michalis but is actually sympathetic deep down, more power to you! But there is a different between a character being sympathetic, and the game telling us a character is sympathetic.  Because King Travant has been a giant bastard in every moment of his appearance in the entire game, a smug ambitious ass who has murdered and betrayed his way through every scene he was in, while looking down on basically everyone around him and showing zero care for any of the many, many of his own men he’s gotten killed.  Beyond occasional lip-service to ‘saving Thracia’, he’s shown nothing but bottomless ambition and a willingness to kill anyone who gets in the way of it.  And now, all of a sudden, he’s decided to nobly die in battle and leave Thracia in better hands?  This is like Sigurd revealing in chapter six that he was actually working for Manfroy all along.  It’s just such a sudden, random, and extreme shift in personality, blatantly for the purpose of building up sympathy where there just ain’t none to be found.  I generally really like the writing of this game but… wow. The Thracia arc is a hamfisted mess.  

Sorry. Angry writer moment. Back to exciting war.

A bit anticlimactic, huh? Still, we crushed the outer edges of Hannibal’s army, and nobody is in his range so there’s no chance of a rampant suicide again.  We shoooould be able to crush his entire army in one go on our next turn. Meanwhile, Fee is in the range of the bandits over in the village section, so I thiiink they’ll be attacking her? Unless they don’t move, I can’t remember. Let’s see!

Hannibal: Move in on the invaders! We’ll let them proceed no further!

… You’ve been doing that…

Okay, not bad! Now, Travant is moving up and there’s not much time to prep for that, so I’m going to try to kill Hannibal’s whole army in one go. This will be… a pain, frankly.  But if we can do that, Hannibal will go briefly non-hostile as he runs to his castle to get reinforcements. If that happens, you can surround and trap him, since he won’t attack anyone who doesn’t attack him first. Let’s… see how this goes.

…. Almost.  I really hope that was enough to trigger Hannibal to retreat. Run away, you old bastard.  End… end turn.

Yessssssss.  Hannibal didn’t attack, he’s running back to Kapothagia to get reinforcements, and he’s old and cannot run fast.  Once our turn starts, we’re clear to surround him, and send Seliph running straight past him to the next castle.  

Meanwhile, Fee…

My God she is a tank.  How does this keep happening?  Pegasus Knights are supposed to be squishy.

Our turn starts, and I ‘recruit Hannibal.’  

He still has two soldiers alive, but one is a bow user that I can also trap so Patty might eat him, and the other is a healer with no weapon that Patty will also eat. She needs money and experience, is my point. Patty?  

Good girl! Now, Travant’s unit will be hitting us next turn, and he’s a dick, so I’m sending a few units back that way to help out.  Dermott, Lester, and Finn should be able to handle it in combination with the killers who are already there.

So here’s the King Douche himself, finally out and killable, but he’s not gonna make it easy on us. He’s a Dragonmaster, the promoted class of dracoknight, and comes with a Silver Lance and Power Ring to play off his already extremely high strength stat. All his relevant stats are pretty solid except resistance, and he comes with two skills that can make him a pain; Nihil, which nullifies all combat abilities (Luna, Astra, etc.) and in addition removes his natural weakness to arrows as a flying unit.  On top of that, he has Vantage, so once his health goes down a far enough he’ll always get the first strike. Pursuit too, but he’s not terribly fast, so it’s not as big an issue as it could be.  Most of the people who will be fighting him here can outrun him. In addition he has no way to fight at range and his Resistance isn’t great, so mages are his kryptonite in a big way. He’s dangerous, but not beyond belief.

I’mma try to have Leif kill him. You know why.

All right, the turn is mostly set, other than Fee finally getting close enough to save that poor burning village. Go, girl!

I love her so much.  End turn!

Why do people even try to fight Fee.  

…. Well, I’d like to thank Nanna for scaring the shit out of me, and like to thank every Thracian for being a dick. EVERY ONE.  

Okay. Okay. Our turn. To start off? Let’s kill some frickin’ wyverns.    

Ooooh, not great. There’s still several wyverns left, and nobody else can attack.  If the two wyverns and Travant all go for one person, they could kill them. If ooooooooonly there was some way to stooooooooooop him from LANA GO

Clerics, motherfucker. And that’s that! Travant’s group is basically done for; the two small fries will take their potshots, but the king himself is dead in the water.  Boy, that sure was a treacherous and underhanded thing of me to do, paralyzing him from half a mile away with magic. He couldn’t defend himself at all. UWEE HEE HEE HEE HEE.

And now, Fee.

Go Fee! Start flying home to promote, honey, you earned it. Patty continues plinking away at an armor knight while the cleric heals it from a distance, you know the deal; and because I’m not an idiot, I run Dermott back to our main castle and have him stand inside, because wyverns have a huge damn movement range and we’re fighting rather close to it.  End turn.

*smile*

Now then, let’s mop up.

(Syyyyympathetic Anti-Villain~)

Travant: What a pathetic fool that Blume was… how could he fail to kill a runt like you?

(SYYYYYYYYYMPATHETIC ANTI-VILLAIN, SUCH A TRAGIC GUUUUUUUUUUY~)

Leif: We meet at last, Travant… I’ve… I’ve await this day for so long. This is what kept me alive all this time… I’ve lived for this alone… to choke the life from you with my bare hands!

(… Damn, go Leif.)

Travant the Sympathetic Anti-Villain: Heh… as foolish as your father. And unlike him, you can’t even wield Gae Bolg against me! You don’t stand a chance! Now hold still! It’s time you learned the last agonies your parents felt at my hands!

Shame you can’t fight, huh dude.

Travant the Tragic Patriot: Ha! How laughable! A common soldier like you could never even scratch me! I take it you’re ready to die, then?

… No, I don’t know how he dodges while asleep. Same way he talks, I guess. Life is a complicated thing. Anyway, Travant is beaten, so with Leif waiting there to kill him slowly, I start splitting the army up. Those who can promote start heading home, while the others head west to help out Seliph as he moves on to besiege a castle by himself.  He doesn’t really need help, but they’re gonna need to go there eventually anyway. The enemy can no longer move at all; all our turns will be consecutive until we finish up Hannibal’s castle and/or kill Travant. This update is already too long and Patty is just gonna be plinking away forever, so let’s stick to the highlights of the combat:  

Nice!  And of course, now story happens.

Arion: My apologies, Altena. I had to give Father a convincing show, to ensure your survival. I had no choice but to deal such a powerful blow.

Altena: Don’t worry, Arion. But where is Fath… King Travant now?

Arion: … You won’t see him again. Father has died in battle.

Altena: He has…?  How did it happen?

Arion: You’d be better off not knowing. Father’s heart was an enigma at the best of times…

Altena: … Arion. What do you think I should do now?  

Arion: Join prince Leif, your true brother. I’m certain he is still waiting for you.

Altena: Then what will you-

Arion: Altena. This is my fate. There’s no helping it.

Altena: No! You can call for a truce, Arion! Now that Travant is dead, there’s nothing to stop you from seeking peace! And I… I could never fight you!

(Oh god dammit, this isn’t a brotherly ‘I can’t fight you,’ is it.)

Arion: I wish I could, and I would were it not for Father’s final words to me…

(…………….. HE LITERALLY TOLD YOU TO JUST DO WHATEVER YOU WANTED, ASSHOLE.)

Arion: Please, Altena… Go!  However, be prepared. Our next meeting will be on the battlefield, and I will not stay my hand!

Altena: Oh… Arion…

(King Arion of Thracia: What a dick!)

And with that, Altena starts flying toward our army to sign up.  Since there’s nothing else to do but let Patty continue plinkin’ away, I think we’ll call it a week here. Seliph, do the honors!

Seliph: Who are you? What’s the matter?

Cairpre: I’m Cairpre… I’m General Hannibal’s son. And… wait… aren’t you Lord Seliph, the Liberator!?

Seliph: Indeed I am. If I may ask, Cairpre, why would Thracia imprison one of their own generals’ sons?

(“Because apparently being king of this shitty country instantly turns you into a rampaging douche.”)

Cairpre: King Travant took me hostage. Papa didn’t want to fight your army, so the king threatened my life to force him to fight… please, sir! Please take me to Papa! If he knows I’m safe, then he won’t have to keep fighting! Please, we’ve gotta save him!

Seliph: I see…. Don’t worry. I promise we’ll find him. Move out, everyone! I pray we’ll still be in time to save General Hannibal!

Spoiler for next week’s update: we will.  See you then, when we promote like seven dudes, recruit an old idiot and a young awesome princess, and just generally rock out all over whatever is left of Thracia. Go team!

Total Resets: 26. Not sure I should count this since it was Hannibal killing himself on the worst possible target in his range, not anything I did, but I’ve always has a masochistic streak.

Part 23

[madefate-a]

( Henry ) 5 Times the Love

▉▊▋☣. ( love, love, love. accepting ! ) 

>> @heroismdreams • ♪♫

i. ( domestic life was never quite my style. )

This is something he did not know about emotions: even a single one can feel like a whole world. 

He’d always ( well, almost always ) assumed that a singular thing would always just be a singular thing. You’re happy, you’re sad, you’re angry. That’s why there are names for these kinds of things, y’know? It makes sense, right? It had been nice, once he realized that this was one of those point of no return deals and he couldn’t go back to not feeling, to know that he wasn’t starting from scratch. 

❛ Henry? ❜ 

Even though he can’t really feel it, that doesn’t stop him; Sumia’s hand has taken his and regardless of what anyone else might call it, this is his warmth. Theirs, hopefully, forever. His, Sumia’s, and – 

( and ! and ! and ! his mind hasn’t understood it yet but something else within him has. fireworks are exploding in his ribcage and they’re tearing him apart and isn’t that just beautiful, and, and ! ) 

❛ You’re crying. ❜ 

There is no such thing as one emotion. Her voice quivers with everything all at once and he can hear it – he knows the names: hesitation, worry, caution, pain, joy, hope – hope – 

I’m always happy, he’s said. He’s believed. But a pale facsimile of joy won’t convey just how – wondrous this thing living inside him is. So he takes what he has learned and tries to show it, letting his fingers close over hers and leaning in to cradle her face with his free hand. 

❛ I didn’t know I could. ❜ 

He whispers it against her lips, ecstasy bleeding from every word. It seems so foolish, to assume that happiness could only ever be one thing. She has just created a universe in this moment; all he can do is gaze at her in reverence and try to remember how to breathe. 

( and baby makes three. ) 

ii. ( you cried, and it broke my heart. ) 

❛ You do remember we have a crib, right? ❜ 

There’s laughter in Sumia’s voice, in her eyes, but there is also, always, that soft kindness – that goodness that even now Henry does not quite know what to do with. Just because he’s never been particularly vocal about what he now knows as his shortcomings doesn’t mean that he’s not aware of them; he knows that there’s a sort of inadequacy to bridge, that a learning-to-be-gentle smile of his own and brushing his elbow against her own isn’t enough. 

But it’ll have to do. 

❛ She doesn’t like it, ❜ he says matter of factly. 

❛ Is that right? ❜ 

❛ Absolutely. ❜ 

❛ Hm – don’t you have to use something, at least once, to make that decision? ❜  

His lips part as if to say something – questioning, curious, amused. After all, he knows teasing when he hears it, and his expression melts for a moment before it draws into something that is not a smile. 

❛ She did! Once. – She cried. So that means she didn’t like it. ❜ 

He meets Sumia’s gaze with his own open and honest, and he watches her search. For what he can’t say – what she finds, he doesn’t know. But after a few moments of silence she leans in and presses her lips against his jaw. 

❛ She’ll probably cry again, you know. ❜ 

❛ What ?! ❜  

When Sumia doesn’t startle at his distress ( distress – not so novel an emotion, now, but still, somehow, strange ) he knows instinctively now to calm the panic that flutters like some frantic, winged thing his chest. 

❛ I know. ❜ She lays one hand over his arm, her forefinger resting so, so, so achingly gently on Cynthia’s head. ❛ But that’s part of the process. She can’t talk yet, she’s just learning. And she does it by crying. ❜ 

❛ Ah – ❜ The words catch in his throat and Henry glances from her back down to the girl sleeping in his arms. Her face is so soft – there are no hard lines anywhere, nothing scarred, nothing broken. She is flush-pink with life, tiny, tiny little lips parted as her breath whistles in her mouth. Her fingers – impossibly small – are curled to her palms so fragile and diminutive that they can’t even grasp yet. 

Before he can decide to put her down – before he can understand what he’s thinking at all – Sumia captures his mouth in a chaste kiss and delicately, capably, transfers Cynthia into her own arms. He hadn’t noticed any strain in them until they’re free to fall to his sides and tremble, minutely. 

❛ Come on, ❜ she murmurs, beckoning him to follow. Which he’ll do anywhere, anytime, anyway. She leads him to the bed, sitting against the headboard and bidding him to join her. ❛ Lie down. ❜ 

He listens obediently, curling around her and placing his head on his shoulder, Cynthia in clear view. Beside him, he feels the vibration of a low, warm laugh. 

❛ She’s going to be the halidom’s most spoiled child, ❜ she informs in a good natured whisper. 

❛ She’s going to be its happiest, ❜ he replies, watching her until sleep claims him. 

iii. ( when you smile, you knock me out. i fall apart. ) 

❛ I don’t know if I’ve ever seen Florina this happy. ❜ 

Henry can hear Sumia’s voice and Cynthia’s responding giggle from where he’s seated – far enough to not intrude, close enough to see every detail, hear every word. The sun’s light is a physical thing today, pooling into honey golden reserves, glittering softly when it catches on whatever is there – a hairpin, a ring, a bracelet. 

By extension, Cynthia glitters just as much when she moves up to braid another fallen flower into Florina’s mane. And maybe Sumia is right; the pegasus doesn’t so much as twitch, her head hung low for Cynthia to reach, patient throughout the entirety of the process. 

❛ She wants to be beautiful, ❜ Cynthia says decisively, her voice like so much twinkling, spun glass – so full and vibrant, so like her mother’s. ( and thank goodness for that. ) 

❛ And now she is. ❜ 

Sumia looks just as surprised as Henry feels when Cynthia turns on her heel, places both her fists on her hips, and replies, ❛ She’s always beautiful. Now she’s just beautifuller ! ❜ 

A moment of silence passes – and then a grin breaks out across Sumia’s face like the sun burning through a cloud. She reaches out, unbridled, and takes both of Cynthia’s hands in her own before pulling her onto her lap and kissing the crown of her head. 

❛ Yes, she is. My apologies, Florina. ❜ 

( Florina doesn’t look particularly offended. ) 

❛ Rina forgives you ! ❜ Cynthia laughs, high and loud, and flings her arms around Sumia’s neck in a hug. ❛ Mama, do you want flower braids too? ❜ 

❛ I would love some. But. ❜ There’s the mischievous edge to her voice that is so rare and so treasured; when Sumia meets his gaze, Henry feels a little shock roll down his spine. ❛ Don’t you think your father needs some too? ❜ 

Cynthia gasps with the new information, grabbing onto the idea like it’s so novel and so wonderful, and Henry feels his throat clog when she turns to him and waves. 

❛ Yes! Of course! I’m coming, Papa! ❜ 

He can’t really answer her around the inexplicable tightness of his throat – but he’s also learning that he doesn’t really have to. 

iv. ( we’ll bleed and fight for you; we’ll make it right for you. ) 

There is almost something funny about the irony of it. In days past, he would certainly have found it absolutely delightful – would have given into the base desire of laughing himself silly with his dying breath, over the fact that it was his dying breath at all. Especially if he had been back then like he is now – with something to live for. 

How delicious that tragedy would have been, then; how much it strangles him, now. 

Without saying a word, without even knowing what he’s doing, Henry finds Sumia’s hand and slots his fingers through with hers. She reciprocates, and in his own way he feels that touch – one drop of water sending ripples down to the absolute depth of his soul. 

If he looks at her, he is lost. All he can do is hold on. 

( he won’t wish for a miracle – no, he’ll try not to. but it’s a futile effort. he has always known that Sumia can create universes, and it would take more than death itself to rend from him his faith in her. ) 

❛ Well, love, it looks like we’re going to have to make a choice. ❜ 

Sumia squeezes his hand. 

( he can still hear Ricken’s voice, trembling and young and grasping so hard at a hardness it did not possess – if I were cut down in battle tomorrow, would you shrug and carry on? 

he can also still hear his answer, skimming the surface, mindless and careless. but even if he remembers it all clear as day, he cannot, for what is left of the life of him, feel what he’d felt. what he didn’t feel. ) 

❛ Henry. ❜ 

Oh – oh no. No, no. He knows what’s coming. His heart jumps into his throat. He squeezes her hand. Sumia sighs. 

❛ Henry. Look at me. ❜ 

And he obeys without a moment’s hesitation. He looks at her. 

– He’s not lost. Oh, right. This is Sumia. He almost forgot that when there’s nothing left, his faith in her will remain. 

She doesn’t need to say a word to ask him her question. He doesn’t need a second to find the answer. He tugs her forward, bridging the distance halfway and settling his forehead from her own. From here, he can see every intricate detail of the tears that pool at her lower lashes and fall asymmetrically down her face. 

❛ We can’t let her live in a world like this. ❜ Her voice is rough, now, without the facade of strength. ( which is never a facade – no matter if she doubts as much, there is never any question that in all her power and softness and kindness and worry and love, there is no one stronger in the world. ) ❛ We have to try – she can’t – ❜ 

❛ I’m with you, ❜ he tells her. Nothing has ever been more true. When she falters he moves into the space she creates. He reaches his free hand up to cradle her face, letting the tears trap against his thumb. ❛ I am always with you. ❜ 

She closes her eyes. In that one, single second, he mourns with the force of someone irrevocably shattered. 

But there is no choice. For Cynthia, he will give himself always, every time, without question. 

❛ It’s been a while. ❜ He smiles, he laughs, he searches for the way his face was always etched into simple, amused joy. ❛ I hope I’m not too rusty. ❜ 

Sumia pulls back. They plunge into battle still holding hands. 

v. ( and you’ll blow us all away. ) 

❛ That’s right! That’s me, Cynthia! ❜ 

He’s still grinning, even though he can’t quite puzzle it out. Sumia told him as much, but she seems pretty keen on an enthusiastic introduction. A kid? His kid? Kinda weird, if you ask him – not that they’re not used that brand of weird by now. And he can’t not believe her; they’ve seen these kids dropping in from the future. 

It’s just – well, strange ! But that’s not a bad thing, not at all. Strange is a-okay in his book, for the most part. 

❛ Well it’s, uh, nice to meet you, Cynthia! ❜ 

She glows at that and – yeah, he doesn’t really get it. It is nice to meet her; she’s pretty hilarious, with her energy and her humor and that eagerness of hers. And she kicked some serious butt on the battlefield, so yeah! Definitely cool. But she seems to really take a shine to that, practically vibrating with the force of whatever the heck she’s feeling. 

❛ You too !! Oh it’s been so long – ah, I have so much to tell you! What are you doing right now, are you busy? ❜ 

He blinks for a moment, never losing his easy, well worn smile but still working to keep up with her pace. 

❛ Oh, well, not at the moment, no – ❜ 

❛ Great! I wanted to ask you about entrance flourishes! ❜ 

– What in the world? 

It doesn’t really seem like his thing. None of it does – and there’s always that little, whispering urge to break off prolonged contact and seek refuge for a while. Surely he should just… do what he wants. That seems to be allowed by everyone around him, and he uses those reactions to measure his own. 

– Ah, well. Maybe in a little while. She seems so… happy. He doesn’t get it but – 

– He kind of likes it. Seeing her happy. 

[picavirgo]

PROMPT OO7.  C R  E   S    C     E      N       D       O 

a/n: for the sake of ease, italics are used to mark speech in spanish rather than english. 

TW : slurs, discrimination, violence, injury

i. feral // ii. daughter // iii. freak // iv. beginning // v. outsider // vi. understanding // vii. family

i. feral. ( fe·ralˈferəl,ˈfirəl/adjective ). (especially of an animal) in a wild state, especially after escape from captivity or domestication.

Didn’t want. Didn’t want wasn’t a new concept to Mafalda. Moving wasn’t a new concept, going somewhere new wasn’t a fresh concept. But it still hurt. She was eight and the countryside flew past her as she stared out of the bus window. Everything she owned was in the backpack next to her-- ten shirts, three skirts, three pairs of pants, and ten pairs socks that she’d started filching from each home she was in so she didn’t run out. Ten pairs of socks in a year. Maybe at some point, the number would make her feel proud, or glad, or something. But right now, she was just disappointed. She was hurt. She wanted to go to a place she didn’t even have a picture of in her head, a place that didn’t exist. 

She wanted to go home. 

Feral was a new word for her, though. That was why she was here, that was why she’d had to go. She was too feral, she didn’t get along with the other children. She scared them. It wasn’t with anything that she could control, it wasn’t because she was loud or disrespectful or mean. She was just different. She looked different, she could do things that no one else could do. It was like magic, she thought, like something that could do amazing things. Like make leaves float when there was no wind, like make beetles on her windowsill spin. Like finish her chores early because she could get the broom to move without her touching it. 

But apparently, she was cursed, or possessed, or something. She was feral. She didn’t know what it meant. 

There was a woman across the aisle from her, elderly and kind looking. Mafalda moved to the edge of her seat and cleared her throat. 

“Excuse me?”

The woman looked up at her, and she smiled. “Yes?”

“Do you know what feral means?” she asked, before she held up the book she hadn’t been reading except for when her social worker tried to talk to her. “It’s in my book and I don’t know what it means.”

The woman nodded. “It’s... well, it means wild,” she told her. “Like a feral dog, it can’t be in a house because it can’t be controlled, or domesticated. It’s been wild too long. Travels around, lives without rules. Does that make sense?”

Mafalda sat back slowly in her seat. Her lips pursed slightly, and she nodded her head even as her gaze dropped. “Yes, thank you.” She moved back over to the window and leaned her head against it, pulling her legs up to her chest. She wanted to cry. But the sound that came out of her mouth wasn’t a little choked huff, wasn’t a sob. It was a laugh. 

At least this time, they hadn’t called her a freak. 

ii. daughter ( daugh·terˈdôdər,ˈdädər/noun ). a girl or woman in relation to her parents.

Her hands kept fidgeting in her lap. This wasn’t real, it couldn’t possibly be real. She couldn’t possibly be this lucky. She couldn’t possibly get this, she couldn’t possibly have this. She’d been escorted here, to this room, with the pale walls with the yellow wallpaper peeling slowly and long since faded from its original gaudy pattern. Her leg bounced and her hands fidgeted.

She was ten. And this was the first time she’d ever get to go home. 

Caroline and Albert didn’t look anything like her. Donald had fading ginger hair, was tall and broad shouldered. Caroline was short, and fat, with blonde hair and a long nose that kept her large glasses from plummeting right off her face. She wore a little Star of David around her neck that kept reflecting light off of its smooth surface. She had a kind smile on her face as she looked at Mafalda. She glanced at Albert, then back to Mafalda again. 

They both spoke in English, and Mafalda had no idea what they were saying. She looked back and forth between the two of them, and tried to smile, tried to follow the conversation, but she had no idea. At some point, Caroline put her hand out for Mafalda to take, and she did, rising from her seat and grabbing her backpack. Albert walked on her other side, and after a moment cautiously glancing at his hand swinging beside him as he walked, she reached out and took it. He looked down at their hands, then at her.

He smiled, and Mafalda felt like she was home already. 

iii. freak ( frēk/noun ). a person, animal, or plant with an unusual physical abnormality.

Mafalda thought she was going to cry.

The room was silent for a long time after Albus Dumbledore left. No one moved, no one spoke, no one so much as blinked. Or at least it felt that way to Mafalda, sitting on the sofa, waiting for the explosion even as she hoped it wouldn’t come. She was too young for this. She was too attached to this family to leave it. They would keep her. It was an adjustment, but they’d done the paperwork, they’d agreed to be her parents. They’d taken her from her home, from her country, from the only place she’d ever known to a country where she didn’t speak the language, where she didn’t know the culture or the way to act. But she’d learned, for them, for this life, for the chance of making this a home.

She finally grew tired of the waiting and cleared her throat. “I...”

“Don’t.” Caroline’s voice was soft and pained. Warning, as she looked to her husband before lowering her gaze to the floor. Was she so horrible to look at? Was it truly so terrifying to look her in the eye, or to look at her at all? “If you talk, it makes this real.”

“This is real.”

“It’s not.”

“It is.” Mafalda looked between the two of them. “I’ll show you, here.” She put out her hands, and after a moment, Albert’s watch started to tug at his wrist. He looked down at it, and it drifted off of his wrist to float in the air above him. He finally looked at her. He was always the more understanding one, the calmer one. The one that had taught her to write, to read. The one that had told her to have faith and to know that she was loved here, that this was her home. That she was safe here. And now he was staring at her like she was some kind of freak. 

You are a freak, she reminded herself as they continued to look at her. Her throat was dry. She shook her head. “I-I’m sorry for lying to you, I just didn’t think you’d want me if you knew. No one ever wanted me, you were the first people that--”

“You played us.” Albert’s words made her start, and Mafalda looked at him. His gaze was cold for the first time in her life when he looked at her. Mafalda wanted to run. “You knew this, and you never said anything.”

“What was I supposed to say?”

“The truth, Mafalda, like we always taught you.”

“I know, and I’m sorry--”

“I don’t even know who you are.”

She stopped trying to apologize. She just stared. “I’m your daughter,” she said quietly. “I’m still your daughter, you don’t have to-- please. I’m sorry, I won’t lie anymore, I’ll be good and I’ll stop and I won’t have to go to the school, I’ll control it and we can go back to things just how they were--”

“Things can’t go back to the way they were!” Mafalda flinched. She’d never been yelled at in this house. She was so small now, though, she was cowering as they both looked at her like some sort of criminal. Something not entirely human. Albert was standing now, and he towered above her. “You lied to us! You have this whole-- whole--” He shook his head, unable to find the words. “You’re not the girl we adopted. You’re not.”

“I am!” Mafalda was crying as she shook her head frantically, taking a step towards them. “I am, I’m--”

They stepped back. Caroline looked scared. Albert’s arm had already moved to push her back. Mafalda stopped. No one moved. The silence threatened to suffocate her, and she couldn’t move. 

“Go upstairs and pack your things,” Albert finally said. She wanted to breathe, but she couldn’t. “You’re going home.”

Her lower lip trembled. “I am home,” she whispered. Albert shook his head.

“Go pack your bags.”

iv. beginning ( be·gin·ningbəˈɡiniNG/noun ). the point in time or space at which something starts.

Mafalda still couldn’t believe that this was real. She couldn’t believe that she was actually going. She’d thought that chance, that opportunity, to go to Hogwarts had been discarded along with her surname Dyer, that once she was back in Spain, that was it. She was stuck. But Evelyn Hopkirk had swept into the group home like a robed Valkyrie, and within half an hour, Mafalda was back in England after the terrifying experience of apparating. 

She was still recovering from that, really. 

Evelyn had sent Mafalda’s luggage back to her house with some sort of magic-- though Mafalda would continue to think they were lost forever until she saw them again-- and taken her to Diagon Alley. It was easy to get overwhelmed. Especially when she came face-to-face with five eager looking kids outside the bookshop. 

“Is this Mafalda?” one of them asked eagerly, eyes on her. He was tall, taller than any man Mafalda had ever seen. Or maybe she just felt especially small here, she didn’t know. He was fair-skinned and fair-haired like Evelyn, and supporting a little girl on his shoulders. 

“Yes, this is Mafalda,” Evelyn said, keeping her hand on Mafalda’s shoulder. Mafalda wanted to hide. Though she had no idea how to even get anywhere to hide here. It was too much. There was too much. She couldn’t do this. She was ready to tell Evelyn to send her back. Evelyn shook her shoulder gently, and she looked at her again. Evelyn smiled at her. “Mafalda, these are the rest of my kids. This is Sam, and Jenny--” She pointed to the man that had spoken and the girl on his shoulders. “--my two bio kids, and then Raj, Marina, and Phichit are all adopted. Phichit is gonna’ be at Hogwarts with you, so you’ll have someone you know with you on the train.”

Phichit smiled at her. Mafalda couldn’t make herself smile back. She shrunk against Evelyn’s leg. She could disappear if she tried hard enough. 

“Are all of you going to school?” she asked, and Marina-- tall, olive-skinned, beautiful Marina, with her dark hair brushed flawlessly over her shoulder--chuckled and shook her head. 

“No, Sam, Raj, and I are all too old,” she told Mafalda sweetly. “Raj and Sam both went to Hogwarts, but I’m a squib--” Mafalda’s brows furrowed, and Marina elaborated quickly. “--My parents had magic, but I don’t, so I’m going to muggle-- non-magical-- school now. We just wanted to meet you.”

Mafalda was stunned. She looked at all of them slowly. “Really?”

Raj huffed with amusement and nodded his head towards the bookshop. “Come on, we’ll get your supplies and then we’re gonna’ get takeaway,” he told her. “Then you can get settled in; Marina’s gonna’ share her room with you so you don’t have to sleep on the sofa, which has a huge crater in it from someone’s large butt.” Sam glared. Jenny laughed. Raj grinned at both of them. 

Phichit was still looking at Mafalda. “Do you like pizza?” he asked her. 

Mafalda finally smiled. “Love it.”

Evelyn chuckled and took Mafalda’s hand, leading her through the door of Flourish and Blott’s. “Well then we better buy your books so we can all eat.”

v. out·sid·er ( outˈsīdər/noun ). a person who does not belong to a particular group.

“Give it back!”

Where were the matrons? Where was anyone that would help her? Where were the adults, the ones that were supposed to stop this? She could see one of them leaning against the wall, smoking her cigarette while she looked out at the yard. She was right there, and Mafalda was screaming, and she didn’t even look at her. The boys laughed and kept tossing her copy of A History of Magic back and forth over her head. Pages fluttered down around her, crumpled and torn from the bindings as they continued to throw it to each other. How dare they. 

The tallest boy laughed at her and caught the book. He had fat hands. Hands that hurt when they struck. He would never come near her again. She would make him hurt. She wanted him to hurt. Her hands clenched into fists. “Come and get it!” He tossed the book over her head, to his laughing friend, with pot-marked skin and teeth that were too large for his head. She hated him. She hated all of them. 

Pot mark caught the book and held it by the front cover. “What is this?” he taunted. “Your book of spells?” If only he knew. She would show him. 

“No, it’s in English, you moron,” she yelled at him, and took a step towards him that was a threat to her and a joke to him. “Now give it back!”

“What’s the matter, demon?” one of the other boys demanded as he caught the book. He had a short nose that made him look like a pig. “Good enough to go to a fancy English school, but not good enough to get a real family?”

“Stop it!”

“I bet she doesn’t even go to English school, I bet that’s a lie.”

“It’s not a lie!”

“I bet they’re keeping you locked up somewhere, right?”

“No!”

                              “You’re a freak.”       “Why are you still here?”    

     “fuerza negra.”            "No one is ever going to adopt you.”           “You’re a demon!”

                    “I hope they send you away.”

                                         “They will. No one wants her here.”

            "Everyone knows you’re a freak.”                       “They should send you back.”

“Stop it!”

                                    “Freak!”

“Stop!”

Pig face tossed the book over her head, and her copy of A History of Magic skidded across the ground, scattering pages all over the grass. Mafalda turned back to face the boys, to make them pay, but they were already sprinting across the yard back towards the house. She turned back to her book and walked over to it, picking up the pages from the ground. She could feel the tears in her eyes, but she didn’t want to cry. She wasn’t going to cry. She sat down on the ground and started trying to put the pages back in order. There was nothing else to do.

vi. understanding ( un·der·stand·ingˌəndərˈstandiNG/adjective ). sympathetically aware of other people's feelings; tolerant and forgiving.

It was her first Christmas since the Dyers that she hadn’t spent at Hogwarts. 

The Hopkirks had all piled in front of the small television set to watch some movie, Mafalda wasn’t really paying attention to which one. There were people around her, and none of them thought she was any different from them. She was just Mafalda, or Falda, as they’d started calling her, and she was as close to one of them as she could get. Other kids had come and gone from the house, as Evelyn took in more kids and as some just passed through on their way to a better or more permanent home. Mafalda was just one facet of the Hopkirk group, part of the family for two days of the year before she had to go back to school or reality, but it was two days that she looked forward to for the rest of the year. Everyone was always home when she came through, and it was the best feeling in the world to be greeted by the full force of Evelyn’s family, waiting for her at the train station--this year with signs-- and making sure, along with Evelyn, that she was getting enough to eat and that she was happy at school and that she had everything that she could possibly wish for in those two days she had with them. 

But this year was special. She looked at the rest of the family jammed on the sofa, at Phichit asleep on her shoulder, at Marina combing her fingers through Jenny’s hair as the younger girl slept, at Sam and Raj trying to keep their popcorn throwing war out of Evelyn’s notice. At Will and Freddie, the two newest boys in the Hopkirk bundle, wiggling their toes while they examined their feet, freshly adorned with festive holiday socks. 

This was what home was supposed to feel like. And it didn’t matter that they didn’t actually celebrate Christmas, or that only two of them in the room actually had the same parents, or that Evelyn had given out her name to all of the kids to use and take in as their own. And Mafalda knew without a doubt that it would break her heart to get on the train at the end of the holiday. 

“Oh my god, Falda, are you crying at Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer?”

Mafalda looked up, and Sam was looking at her. She hastily brushed her eyes and shook her head. “No. You hit me in the eye with your dumb popcorn war.”

“I did not.” Sam got up from the floor and looked at her. His holiday jumper looked ridiculous, and for such a large man, she was still trying to figure out how he’d ended up with an oversized jumper. “You know what happens when people cry at Christmas movies?”

“Do not say Hopkirk family pile.”

“Hopkirk family pile!”

It was like he’d blown a dog whistle at an animal shelter. The group looked over at Mafalda as one, and laughing and grinning, they all converged on her, squishing her against the couch cushions. Mafalda was laughing, even as she protested as well. “You’re crushing me, you weirdos, get off!”

Jenny laughed. “You’re crying at a cartoon, why are we weirdos?”

“Only a weirdo would ask that question.”

Mafalda laughed, and eventually just gave up trying to shove all of them off of her and just giggled breathlessly from the bottom of the pile. This was home. It was ridiculous and silly and slightly sweaty, but this was home. 

vii. family ( fam·i·lyˈfam(ə)lē/noun ). a group consisting of parents and children living together in a household.

Mafalda wasn’t entirely certain what was happening. 

The Hopkirks didn’t always celebrate Christmas. Mafalda never celebrated Christmas. But of the group of them, Christmas had never been a common bonding factor between all of them. Sometimes they did, when there were new kids in the house, but this year, there weren’t any, and Mafalda was just perplexed when she walked into the house and everything was fantastically decorated with every sort of streamer and balloon and decoration that the family could find. She’d asked, and been greeted with Jenny’s wide smile, and her spin about the sitting room. It’s a day to celebrate! she told her, and that was it on questions. 

But Christmas Eve rolled around, and Evelyn told all of them to sit while she cleared up the table after dinner. No one was allowed to leave, or get up, or even help her with clearing away the dishes. So Mafalda sat, sitting on her hands, trying to keep herself from fidgeting. 

She had a bad feeling that she couldn’t totally get rid of. 

Not because any of them had done anything all that strange, but everyone seemed to be in on a joke that she wasn’t, and it made her nervous. Mafalda had found that surprise were never something she’d been good with, and this felt like waiting for a surprise. This could be the last Christmas she had here, or they could send her back to Hogwarts for the rest of the holiday. They’d made it through Hanukkah, so they were ready to ship her back now. She would take the socks that Evelyn had gotten her for Hanukkah and she would pack her bags and never step foot in the house again, one more pair of her dozens stashed away in the backpack she’d believed that she didn’t have to have with her at all times anymore, just in case they sent her away. Right now, her hands itched for it. 

Evelyn finally came back to the table, and placed an envelope of some indiscernible color in front of Mafalda. She stared at it. 

“It’s not a Howler, love, don’t look so scared,” Evelyn said as she sat back down at the head of the table, and touched her hand to Mafalda’s arm. “Open it.”

Mafalda looked around at the rest of the family. They were all smiling, in on the joke. She was leaving. She could tell it, she could sense it, they were going to send her away. She looked back at the envelope and steeled herself for the worst case scenario. She slid her finger under the seal and pulled the papers inside out. 

The words Adoption Certificate Application and her name neatly printed beneath Evelyn’s stared back at her. 

This wasn’t real. This couldn’t possibly be real. She looked up at Evelyn and waited for her to tell her it was a joke. But Evelyn just smiled at her and reached out to hold her hand. 

“You are so loved in this family,” she told her, even as Mafalda trembled in her seat. “You’ve been kind, and considerate, and you are so protective that you are one of us without even trying. We’ve all talked about it, and we all agreed on this. And if you’d let us, we would love to make you part of our family.” Her head tilted to the side a little bit, looked at Mafalda’s stunned and tearful face, and rubbed her hand against Mafalda’s shoulder. “You can think about it if--”

“No.” The word sent a shudder around the table, and Mafalda shook her head quickly, a small laugh escaping her lips. “No, no no no,  I mean I don’t need time to think about it. I would-- I would love to be part of this family. Yes. Yes yes yes yes yes.”

There was a whoop that went up, and before she could so much as take another breath, the Hopkirk siblings-- her siblings-- were swarming around her and tugging her up to catch her in a giant hug. All of them were laughing, all of them were smiling, and holding onto her so tightly that she wasn’t sure if it was that or the papers still on the table that were making her breathless. Evelyn pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Welcome to the family, love.”

Another whoop went up, and Mafalda heard Sam shout, “Freddie, unleash the banner!” and suddenly the decorations made sense. It wasn’t for Christmas. It wasn’t for Christmas at all. There was a bit of a shuffle, and Mafalda looked up when the bottom of the banner hanging over the door was undone. It was obviously hand-drawn, and one of the ugliest things she had ever seen, with colored in bubble letters with stars surrounding all the letters. But it was the most beautiful thing to her, and she started laughing even as she burst into tears looking at the drawn words, 

                           WELCOME TO THE FAMILY, MAFALDA HOPKIRK !

Family. Mafalda Hopkirk. She was one of them, she was part of the family, she was here. For the first time in her life, Mafalda was part of a family that didn’t expect anything of her, that didn’t try and make her fit into their unit, thats love was only conditional. A family where her coming home was an excitement and an event that the whole family was always in on. A family that had made this hers, that had made it her theirs. For the first time in her life, this was the end of the road. 

She was Mafalda Hopkirk, and this was her family. 

She was Mafalda Hopkirk, and this was her home. 

[amongushq]

Welcome (back) to Among Us, TILLY! VALENTINA HERNÁNDEZ ( with the faceclaim of SOFIA CARSON ) has found shelter in CAMP JUPITER, where we hope SHE will fit in nicely. Please make sure to check the “after applying”section of our navigation here!

Charmspeak is a potent weapon: children of Aphrodite are aware of that because of how rare the skill is for them. Here though we have someone whose godly parent is all about the sweet words wrapping people around her fingers, meaning that Valentina's charmspeaking abilities are way above what we've seen before. The way she decides to use them (in defense of herself or others) or not at all (allowing the Roman campers to make their own minds about whether she should be welcomed back) shows us a great deal of her mentality. She's in control and appears cold, that much is true, but she has a moral compass which, even though not everyone could approve of it, is wired into her desire not to see innocents get hurt again. In that regard the exchanges between Val and others about the mole will be a bumpy ride, and we're counting on her to stand her ground and remain the confident young woman the horrors she witnessed led her to become.

TW: descriptions of rape / sexual assault, specifically in part III.

AND YOU ARE...?

I.

Valentine’s Day came on a Friday in 1997. Juan Diego Hernández had always loved Fridays. Fridays were his day off, he’d met his wife on a Friday, and the day just held a generally pleasant atmosphere for him. What he did not expect, however, was a baby to show up on his doorstep that particular Friday, in the arms of the woman he’d cheated on his wife with.

He was a politician, one of Colombia’s finest, even. His wife, Gabriela Maria Hernández, was the perfect example of what a politician’s wife should be like, in the eyes of the press. They had been high school sweethearts, and finally decided that there wasn’t going to be any other partner as good for them as each other, so a wedding had been followed by two children and a cat to have a lively home when Juan was at work and Gabriela was at home.

But more had been brewing below the surface. Even the most faithful of husbands were tempted sometimes, and although the family appeared happy on the outside, the inside was just rotten. On Juan’s part, that was. Gabriela was living happily in the bliss of marriage, even after ten years of it. Her husband grew restless, unsatisfied with his marriage, so when a seductive, alluring goddess of a woman had tempted him with a walk on the wild side one night, he’d taken it. She’d been whispering in his ear for a while back then, distracting him at work with thoughts he never should have been having in the first place. That was why he’d wandered off to a less-than-proper place, where women danced and men supplied encouragement for them to keep dancing. She’d called herself Susie, and that was all he knew about her when she took him into the room at the back and made him hers. Nine months later, she was on his doorstep, depositing the baby into his arms with a satisfied, smug smile, like she knew more than him, before she vanished.

Of course, he’d explained everything to his wife. He was a good man, who made a mistake. She wasn’t angry with him, or even sad. She’d seen it coming, really, with his constant pressure to keep up appearances for the media. Instead, Gabriela was angry with the woman who dared to take away her husband, and the child she so conveniently dropped on her doorstep. No, she wasn’t angry; she was furious. To please his wife, Juan gave her the rights to do what she wanted with the baby. The little girl’s entire life belonged to Gabriela. He even named the infant after her, but, unbeknownst to her, also kept a little of the beautiful dancer in his life.

The baby was named Valentina Carmen Maria Gabriela Hernández, and she was not nearly enough to please her stepmother.

II.

Gabriela tried, she really did. She wanted to love this little brat as much as she loved her own daughter and son. She even hired a nanny to take care of the girl when she was too busy with her own children, but she just couldn’t do it. She was forever reminded of that woman who seduced her man every time she looked into her eyes, even when they were filled with tears. Three long years she tried her very best, but then she broke. Arguments ending in “you take her out, or I will leave” were becoming more and more frequent, and Juan finally made the decision to send his daughter away to America. He got Gabriela to at least agree to talk to the press about it. The world didn’t know the name of the little girl, nor whose child she actually was, but they now knew she’d died of leukaemia when she was only three years old.

She hadn’t died, though. She was put on a plane to San Francisco, where she was going to be raised by her nanny, an unattractive, old woman named Gloria, hired by the girl’s parents and personally chosen by Gabriela, obviously. Gloria was a kind woman, who raised Valentina like she would raise her own daughter.. They spoke Spanish, and the English the girl learnt in school, she taught to Gloria, so they slowly learned together. She was put in a good school and took ice skating lessons, paid for by her father. She did not behave in a good way, though. Before she turned twelve, Valentina was kicked out of three schools, all accusing her of theft and trickery. She never stole a thing, though, and people just did what she wanted them to do when she asked. She kept insisting that it hadn’t been her fault.

What had been her fault, was the dead giant that ended up on the sidewalk below their apartment that year. It had finally come for her after nine years of going unnoticed in America, waiting for her in the building. It had been so, so quiet when she came home from school, which, afterwards, regularly made her wonder how a creature that size made no sound at all. She’d taken the stairs that day, something she rarely did when the elevator was unoccupied, which had been a good decision; the thing had been malfunctioning because of the weight of the stinking blue creature trying to utilize it. Once she opened the door, the smell got worse, and the temperature dropped several degrees: Valentina was met with the sight of a Hyperborean Giant that had freshly frozen her nanny into a block of ice, after which he smashed the nanny-sicle apart with his bare hands. A horrified scream had made its way out of her throat, and in her rage, she told the giant to walk out of the window.

Their apartment was on the sixth floor, so it was safe to say that neither her nanny, nor the giant survived.

She ran away from the city after that, not wanting to be reminded of the site where the horrors had occurred. She was found by the she-wolf Lupa, who went through all the regular training any Roman demigod at her wolf house did with her, and it took the average amount of time before Valentina was deemed worthy and sent off to Camp Jupiter.

III.

Her journey to camp was a rough one. She was attacked by multiple monsters of many species, but that wasn’t the worst part. The fact that most of them looked human before she sent them to their deaths was. With just a single word, she killed every monster in her way, growing more and more terrified of her own power with every word uttered.

No, that wasn’t the worst part either. The worst part happened one single night, in a dark alleyway somewhere on the edge of San Francisco, Valentina stumbled across a young woman, a terrified look on her face. Instead of approaching her, she hid behind a dumpster, wanting to see what could frighten a mortal that much. A stupid mistake. She should have just talked to the girl, or grabbed her to go some place safe.

What she saw that night would haunt her forever. Suddenly, there was a guy, he’d seemingly come back for the woman. He tried to share his food with her - Thai, from the smell of it, mixed with alcohol, but she wouldn’t eat. He got angry. He was a violent drunk. The girl was slapped, multiple times, before he got down to what he really intended to do with her. Her clothes were torn off of her body, but she didn’t scream or scratch or do anything - she just… stood there. She let it happen.

So did Valentina. She couldn’t avert her eyes; her throat was dry so she couldn’t scream even if she wanted to. It was as if she and the girl both, were in trance. Rhythmic thuds filled her ears, until she finally found her voice and her common sense. “Stop! What are you doing?”

The victim’s eyes were filled with tears, the guy’s were filled with rage. She finally came out of her hiding place, her little hands curled into fists. She didn’t allow the guy to put his clothes back on before she saved the girl.

“I want you to take a dip and swim to the San Pablo Bay. And then I want you to drown yourself.”

Her charmspeak was still undeveloped, mainly fueled by rage and sadness then, and a little faulty, so she had no idea what eventually happened to the guy. The girl, Jenny, was taken to a hospital and cared for.  

And Valentina continued her journey to camp.

IV.

The incident fueled her insecurities. The world was so evil, so scary, that it would only be a matter of time before something happened to her and her safe place. She got to camp eventually, a broken, crying girl; a camper on probatio at the start of a war. Determined to be in charge, in power. So she became strong.

Little thoughts started making its way into her head. “You are not good enough. You’re a cheat, a fraud, you don’t deserve to be here.” They weren’t her own, that was for sure, because she distinctly remembered the voice of an old woman saying them all. Most of them went without much of a reply on Valentina’s part, she continued her daily routines without any disturbances. But then, the whispers turned into “You are not good enough - but what if you were?”, which became “You are not good enough - I can make you good enough.”

She was strong. Lupa hadn’t chosen her without a reason. That’s what she kept telling herself as she struggled to ignore the voice in her head, which became harder and harder to resist. She finally cracked when her life and her new safe haven were threatened to be destroyed. Along with her family in Colombia. She couldn’t just let innocent mortals suffer. She certainly didn’t have any idea that that was exactly Gaea’s plan.

She fought with her campers in the war, of course. But the Giants and Gaea needed information, which she supplied under duress, never sure of what Gaea needed with her information. She provided the number of able-bodied campers, the chances of winning, the state of mind of the Romans.

The demigods won the war, and Gaea was put back to sleep. No one found out about her betrayal, so she didn’t have to confess. But her guilty conscience was eating away at her, and she did reveal her secret. No charmspeak was used to weasel her way back into camp; she never tried to convince anyone to let her stay or to do anything at all. It was decreed that she should stay, albeit on probatio. Two years later, at age fifteen, Valentina was claimed as Suadela’s daughter, which didn’t come as a surprise to most people. Claiming generally happened at the wolf house, of course, so the only surprise of her being unclaimed previously had already passed. But Valentina had been seducing and convincing people of all genders ever since she arrived, because she swore to herself she would never feel helpless again. People would bend to her will, and not the other way around. After her claiming, there was the matter of her cohort left. She had no one left to write her recommendation letter for her, and obviously the gods weren’t fooled by a silver tongue, so she was to be judged on her skills alone. She’d developed a talent for the whip; that combined with her charmspeak abilities and general demigod fighting skills, made her a valuable addition to the Fourth Cohort.

V.

Making friends wasn’t supposed to be too hard when one could make people feel and do whatever one wanted. But Valentina only used that particular power of hers when she actually needed to. The trick that helped her make friends was her general mysterious, seductive air. People were drawn to the beautiful girl with the intriguing words, almost like she was a Siren, drawing sailors to their deaths with her songs. She didn’t use her songs. What she did do, was follow in ‘Susie’s’ footsteps; she danced: tried her hand at most styles, but never picking a favourite, never mastering any. She danced, and took up ice skating again in the little ice skating rink in New Rome. People started calling her the ice queen, because she broke hearts left and right like it was no big deal. And it wasn’t - not to her. As long as she stayed in charge, she would never get hurt again. No one she cared about would get hurt like the girl in the city.

The mole situation actually worked out quite well for her. With them lurking about, dropping clues and terrorizing the campers’ thoughts, people are less worried about her. Some Romans never got over her betrayal, even after she spilled all her secrets without having to. She was welcomed back, yes, but not with open arms. But thanks to the mole, their thoughts are elsewhere: the general focus is not on her anymore. She understands why they did it, too. Something like this, hiding an entire species, it was bound to get out sometime anyways. They just sped up the process. She didn’t ask to be a fighter, or a soldier. Just because she was a demigod, demigoddess, or a demi-daimon, or demi.. whatever she was, she had to fight wars. It was unfair, and she was sick of pretending to be someone she wasn’t. So her inner seductress was let out, and never caged again.

VI.

“And you are…?”

“Aw, please. Don’t be so mean, hermoso. There’s no need for that! We both know you hate this job. You’re only asking us what you already know anyways. So why not have some fun, hm?”

“…”

“Don’t be like that. I know you saw me. I know what you’re thinking. What you want. You’re not that much older than me, you know.”

“I don’t know-”

“Yes, you do. Did you know lying is a sin?”

“Miss Her-”

“So you do know my name. Fine. Have it your way, then. You’ll let me sit here in silence and let me go after the appropriate time has passed. You will then tell your boss you had a nice chat with me, but you didn’t get anything out of it. They shouldn’t worry about me, and they should move on to the next camper.”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“Alright, time’s up, miss Hernández. You can go now. Enjoy the rest of your day.”

“Thank you, darling.”

[rainbowunicornpoppies]

A New Story in my Rogue One: Encore Series

Blind But I Can See

Chirrut Îmwe has always been blind. But that has not stopped him from being able to see the beauty and truth in the world.

Ships: SpiritAssassin & RebelCaptain

Read it here on AO3 or below the cut!

Chirrut had been blind since birth. He had been lucky in his parentage. His family were not wealthy at all, with barely enough means to scrape it through the week, but more importantly, they did love him. For them, young Chirrut was their son, blind or not. When he had been born they had celebrated all day, and they had thanked the Force that they had been lucky enough to be gifted with a healthy child.

But Chirrut Imwe does not remember any of this, for his parents were killed when he was two years old in a freak accident on a shuttle from Jedha to NaJedha. What Chirrut does remember is growing up around the Guardians of the Whills. It was only logical that he would become a novice with the Guardians when he was old enough, and it was only when he was older that he realised that it was not just because it was a logical path for him but because deep down he loved the Force, believed in it more than anything.

When Chirrut Imwe thinks further he realises that this probably stemmed from the only memory he does have of his family, one that barely comes out of the shadows in his mind.

"The Force is all around us," he remembers a female voice saying, one that he is almost one hundred percent certain is his mother. "It is what keeps us going, helps give us strength in the darkness and gives us a beacon of hope. It connects all of us in this world, both big and small."

"Trust in the Force, my boy," he remembers a male voice saying. It is gruff and hard, but has a streak of tenderness that Chirrut knows is parental love. "When you are lost and scared, trust in us and trust in the Force. We love you, so much."

When Chirrut would sit in the temple in those quiet moments, recalling that memory, he realises that he does not know why they would have said those things to him, and he does not know if the memory is true, but it keeps him going on the days when he trips up over his feet, when children outside the temple laugh at him when he has to see with his fingers.

But whilst a young Chirrut was never disliked he always found himself somehow set apart from the other children. Perhaps it was because he knew he was not just with the Guardians because he wanted to be a great warrior but because he truly believed, completely and unfailingly. He remembered sitting in one of the temple alcoves thinking about his faith when he was eight years old when two of the older guardians walked past him escorting a young boy Chirrut had never seen before. He had scraggly hair that hung limply over his eyes, bruises all over his face and a expression that looked like he would punch you on the face if you even gave him so much as a vague excuse. But Chirrut did not see all this: instead he felt the presence of someone else who's connection in the Force was as strong as his own, and heard - though Chirrut is never sure if he remembers this correctly - the beat of a heart that was at that moment in time with his own.

He learnt several days later that the boy's name was Baze Malbus, and Chirrut was surprised to learn that he had to listen extra hard to hear the boy's presence. But he did find him, one lunchtime, sitting on his own. Chirrut had sat down next to him and had barely said hello when the boy had got up and moved away.

But young Îmwe had not been upset. He knew that all sorts came to the temple for help and for guidance, and it just so happened that this Baze had it harder than most.

So instead he went into the archives of the temple and found his favourite book. Every day he copied out a different phrase, ones that he found particularly helped him through times when he felt he could not go on, ones that he kept close to his heart.

For a whole month Chirrut Imwe left a piece of paper outside Baze Malbus' room door every day until it came to pass that he ended up opposite Baze in the sparring ring.

Chirrut remembers that the fight had been long, that he had ended up with bruises for days afterwards and that Baze had broken his staff with a particularly vicious kick. The identity of who won the match oddly seems to slip his mind. But what he remembers most of all is that Baze Malbus sat next to him that evening for dinner, quoted back one of the phrases he had written for him (which just so happened to be Chirrut's favourite) and always sat next to him in all things thereafter.

Now, whilst sitting in their quarters on Scarif Chirrut runs his hand along his lightbow bowcaster, one that Baze had helped Chirrut make several years ago. He thinks about how different everything is now, how so much has changed, and he realises that even though he mourns for the temple, for the people that raised him, for the friends he lost, that deep down his soul is at ease since Baze, the most precious thing in his life, is still with him.

Chirrut wanders the halls outside their quarters aimlessly until he reaches the hangar. It is another unusually quiet day for the Rebellion. He is glad.

He sits down on a chair and takes a deep breath, one filled with the smells of shipfuel and the rich air of Yavin IV. For now, he is happy to stay here, surrounded by the people he loves and who love him in return.

"It is a funny thing," he says to himself. "That the greatest loves of all are always found unsought."

"That is true," a voice behind him says, one Chirrut would be able to pick out even if the rest of the world were screaming.

"Where have you been?" Chirrut asks, a smile on his lips.

"I found this for you," said Baze, pressing a flower into Chirrut's hand. "It is the flower I told you about, one of the three rare species that grow this side of Yavin IV. Smell it, it will remind you of the incense in the old temple library."

Chirrut brought it to his nose and smelled it. He was taken back, back to Jedha, back to his childhood and all the possibilities that lay ahead.

"Thank you," he said softly, placing his hand over Baze's and squeezing it.

Then suddenly he picks up two voices talking - or perhaps, not talking - in the corner of the hangar, near where the old decommissioned X-Wings are located.

He was good at picking up those two voices in a throng too: Jyn Erso's strong, clipped Basic and Cassian Andor's lilting accent. So many words unspoken between them, he thought, as he moved closer to Baze.

Yes, the greatest loves of all are always found unsought. I'm sure they will find their way too.

[lawrenceremodel]

Nas Denies Kelis Abuse Allegations While Pleading 'We Should Be Better Examples' for Son Knight

Some five months after his ex wife Kelis accused him of mental and physical abuse in an in-depth interview with Hollywood Unlocked, Nas is telling his side of the story.

On Thursday, the rapper, 44, shared a series of seven plain black Instagram posts with lengthy captions that explain his relationship with the “Milkshake” singer, 39 — especially in relation to the child they share, a boy named Knight Jones, born in July 2009.

“PART 1. The Price I Pay To See My Son,” he began before explaining that “a call from Essence about wife doing another sad fictitious story” prompted him to speak out.

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PART 1. The Price i Pay To See My Son. And apologies in advance for the typos as I am speaking from the heart as a man who has had enough. Today i got a call from essence about my ex wife doing another sad fictitious story. Nothing surprises me anymore, including this. This is what your life has come to sis? Exploiting some people’s Real struggle and pain…just to get at me….to get attention ? Fame? Another fight against men? We are a human family and we should be better examples for our son. Why is there even a issue for me to have time with my son. A son needs his father. So many absentee fathers out here and here i am being attacked by your accusations simply because i got us in court to help fix this the custody matter? Why did i have to take you to court to see our son? Why when i win the joint custody ( which is a win for both of us and our son, it helps us with both our schedules) why do you feel thats an attack on you? Is it control ? Why do you need to have control over my life? because we’re not together? Then why? Is this being rewarded and praised by people who are being taken advantage of by you and your lies? To all separated couples out there who are cordial and co parent nicely GOOD FOR YOU. I wish that was me. I’m the most chill cool parent there is. Who has time to argue ? About what? It’s about our little guy. You haven’t had to deal with what I’ve been dealing with. Trust me. I’m a mild mannered god fearing very fair human being who tries his hardest to please everyone. It’s my nature. I’ve seen this too many times before And there was times i thought Kelis my ex wife was not this type. This is the type of antics that deceive people and people mistakenly call it strong. Seems I always had more belief in you than you do for yourself. I instilled strength in my daughter who you were already so jealous of and treated poorly. Being jealous & verbally abusive to a Little girl.

A post shared by Nasir Jones (@nas) on Sep 6, 2018 at 4:54pm PDT

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PART 2. In life you have to work hard to be successful, not try to tear someone down for that’s the most coward way. Women are the essence of life. I cherish them. My strength is given to me from my mother. I am everything she taught me to be. I was raised in a single home by a single woman. I am a very proud black man. I shouldn’t have ignored the signs from your your first song and video I HATE YOU SO MUCH RIGHT NOW. But I thought you was beautiful. You came into my life at a time i was grieving from my moms passing. You was a friend. Because of that i wanted to marry you. And i did. And we had a big lavish wedding. Overall there was too many good times. I have to say i wasn’t the most faithful husband. I was immature. I’m sorry about that. But you bumped your own head sis. Why do i have to live thru a constant divorce? It didn’t work out. Life goes on. I’m not coming back to you. Your married and im happy for you and I’m a extremely happy black brother out here trying to make a difference for my kids and the next generation of young people who see me as huge inspiration in music, art,business, education and so on. After 10 years of keeping my silence during a decade of dealing with very hostile behavior and verbal abuse and even your stepfather holding you back from one of your physical violent Attacks on me right outside your house THIS YEAR while trying to pick up our son while he watched from the window, it was my weekend and you denied me that because your parents were in town. I just went home. This has been my life for my son’s entire life. Even our son wonders why you treat me the way you do?

A post shared by Nasir Jones (@nas) on Sep 6, 2018 at 4:55pm PDT

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He continues, “Nothing surprises me anymore, including this … We are a human family and we should be better examples for our son. Why is there even a issue for me to have time with my son. A son needs his father.”

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PART 3. There’s some seriously crazy things i won’t i disclose for our son’s sake. Because you keep my son from me ive been going thru lawyers to stop you from this bullshit I’m tired of it. I’m tired of you painting a bad picture of me. I’ve been tired of it but you never seem to get tired. I even had to be in a relationship with you AGAIN after we separated just so i could see my son & I AM JUST TIRED. Back then you asked me why didn’t i stop the divorce from happening. I tried! We are too different. Some things aren’t meant to be. We were meant to be so that we could have our son. Nothing more. You didn’t like that. I prayed for your peace of mind for years because of your uneasy soul. I still do. I guess some things take time. You definitely don’t know me now and probably never knew me. You make up this image of me that’s not true but it’s funny because it’s really you describing yourself. You made up stories about me and claimed i did things that YOU DID. I hate all this, but you were a very jealous wife, and i had to deal with that and that’s the worst feeling. How much heat i had to take from producers, writers, music attorneys and record execs etc who felt your mean spirited wrath and dropped you from labels, from startrack to them all. I stopped talking to jungle & steve stoute because of you & almost lost Anthony because of you.

A post shared by Nasir Jones (@nas) on Sep 6, 2018 at 4:58pm PDT

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PART 4. You used to turn my phone off so my professionals couldn’t reach me and take the battery. You insulted any and everyone whoever was around me. Not a single person in my life loved or could even stand you. Luckily for you our assistants all signed NDA’s or you would have a list of men and women who would happily talk about how verbally abusive and evil you are. Your self saboteur ways has caused you your grief your dealing with. Not me. The altercations you speak of are no more different from what most normal couples go thru, but your exaggerated version is UNJUST. Whenever one is constantly attacked the instinct is to restrain that person or defend yourself to prevent escalation. In hindsight now my advice to young men out there in a situation like that is to RUN at the very first sign of verbal abuse or physical. I herd you said terrible things about me. It makes me feel sad how heartless you can be. You play with strong women’s struggles like they mean nothing. You’re taking advantage of a moment in time where women who are fighting for their lives to get justice and be treated fairly & you just looked at it as an opportunity to get ahead. Like abuse is a game? Like tearing down your son’s father is a game. You have a son! Why are you still competing with me by telling him bad things about me. Guess what sis, he has eyes and ears and smart as ever. i don’t have to say anything. I think he knows what’s really good. You will NOT stop me from fighting for my son. You tell him GOD doesn’t love his dad because his dad doesn’t goto church.

A post shared by Nasir Jones (@nas) on Sep 6, 2018 at 4:59pm PDT

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In the next installment, Nas discussed his view of women and the beginning of his relationship with Kelis, writing, “I was raised in a single home by a single woman. I am a very proud black man. I shouldn’t have ignored the signs from your first song and video I HATE YOU SO MUCH RIGHT NOW. But I thought you was beautiful. You came into my life at a time i was grieving from my moms passing. You was a friend. Because of that i wanted to marry you. And i did.”

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PART 5. Didn’t want to bring up money but since that’s the fuel behind all of this Let me say that I gave you the tools to be successful after you was dropped from your label. I paid for your cooking school cordon blue. The expensive yellow stove we had flown in from Europe. I helped pay for the remodeling of your house. Your assistant stole thousands from my cc according to Amex. Out of all people you should be completely understanding of my my grind. But you just can’t win with you. My schedule is CRAZY but you never help me see my son. I’m hardly allowed to talk to him on the phone. Ever. My lawyer told me bring the cops to your house and show my court orders when you don’t let me get him or answer your phone but who besides you wants to show their kids that his parents are that out of control? I’ve been going thru lawyers to stop you from this bullshit for years. I finally got our custody together to work with both our schedule thru court, while leaving court you tell me your gonna get me back for fighting to see my son and 3 weeks later you’re on camera doing an interview about “your truth”. Interesting timing. Do what you want just don’t violate another court order sis because the judge won’t like that at all. The judge already ordered you to pay my legal fees because he was tired of you wasting everyone’s time in court. No lawyer wants to represent you after what you put them thru. That’s why you texted me today asking me for more child support money-and you want to keep it out court. You will NOT stop me from fighting for my son. Remember GOD sees all. And I’m no longer allowing you to take advantage of the fact that I did not want to respond in a manner that could affect my kids , friends or family publicly. THAT ENDS TODAY.

A post shared by Nasir Jones (@nas) on Sep 6, 2018 at 5:06pm PDT

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PART 6. Everything with her is a plot and a scheme. Has no merit. No foundation I didn’t Wana speak up because i have real respect for our women. And definitely my son. I do not beat women. I did not beat up my ex wife. Stop. You got beat up in court. How much money do you want? Do you want me to relinquish my rights to see my son is that what you want? Just tell me. After all the tweets and posts you made thru the years disrespecting me and my family I still have love for you as the mother of my child BUT I am done with this. This game ends now and GOD will be the judger of all this. And although you tell everyone GOD hates me (some Christian you are) I will survive and thrive from this moment because I know who I am & you have not a clue who you are.

A post shared by Nasir Jones (@nas) on Sep 6, 2018 at 5:07pm PDT

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Nas continued, taking shots at Kelis’ character: “You insulted any and everyone whoever was around me. Not a single person in my life loved or could even stand you. Luckily for you our assistants all signed NDA’s or you would have a list of men and women who would happily talk about how verbally abusive and evil you are.”

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PART 7. And to all the fans that knew my silence was due to the fact that I don’t openly do this kind of petty shit… I appreciate you riding. And to those that were lead down a wrong path… I get it… very sensitive times and all things must be taken seriously. This is MY TRUTH. And I don’t care what else she has left to say unless it concerns our son. This is the first and last time I’m addressing this. Despite all of this I still hope for the best for her because whats best for her is what’s best for Knight. Love, NASIR BIN OLU DARA JONES

A post shared by Nasir Jones (@nas) on Sep 6, 2018 at 5:10pm PDT

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Then, the “I Can” hitmaker addressed the custody arrangement he and Kelis reached in March and the Hollywood Unlocked interview: “I finally got our custody together to work with both our schedule thru court, while leaving court you tell me your gonna get me back for fighting to see my son and 3 weeks later you’re on camera doing an interview about ‘your truth’. Interesting timing.” He also urged her not to “violate another court order.”

RELATED: Victoria Beckham Slams Divorce Rumors as She Poses with Husband David: ‘We’re Stronger Together’

In part six of seven, Nas explicitly denied the abuse allegations: “I do not beat women. I did not beat up my ex wife. Stop. You got beat up in court. How much money do you want? Do you want me to relinquish my rights to see my son is that what you want? Just tell me.”

And to conclude, the rapper explained that he had stayed silent for so long because he doesn’t “do this kind of petty s—” adding, “This is MY TRUTH. And I don’t care what else she has left to say unless it concerns our son. This is the first and last time I’m addressing this. Despite all of this I still hope for the best for her because whats best for her is what’s best for Knight.”

RELATED: Kelis Lists $1.9 Million L.A. Home and Announces ‘We’re Buying a Farm’

Nas and Kelis divorced in 2010 but did not reach a custody agreement regarding Knight until March of this year. According to TMZ, they have also been battling over the amount of child support Nas should pay. Kelis is also mother to Shepherd Mora, born in November 2015. She is married to Mike Mora.

This past April marks the first time Kelis spoke out about her relationship with Nas, calling it a “really dark” time in her life. “There was a lot of drinking. There was a lot of mental and physical abuse,” she recalled. “I probably would have stayed longer had I not been pregnant because I really did love him and because we were married. We weren’t dating, we were married. Like, this was my person.”

RELATED: Kelis Accuses Ex Nas of ‘Mental and Physical Abuse’ During 5-Year Marriage: ‘It Was Really Dark’

She continued, “I’ve waited nine years to say anything. I have never talked about this man, ever. The amount of airing out that I could do, and I’ve chosen not to … Our kids will find out. They’re finding out now. I’ve never painted myself as a saint. Did he hit me? Mmhm. Did I hit him back? Mmhm.”

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Hello. I am a male and I will drive a 08 mustang. none of my parents have caused an accident.

How much will a mg zr 1.4 be to insure?

im 17 and i know it want come over 4000 a year

tennessee insurance agency

tennessee insurance agency

How much does it cost do get a lawyer to file for Bankruptcy (Chapter 7)?

I am a single person, low income (waitress), just suffered a major medical expense and no insurance. I have lots of credit card debt, no car, house or student loan debt. How much would it cost a lawyer to file my case with bankruptcy court? Thanks!""

What's do you pay for car insurance in your country?

My car insurance in N.Ireland is just over 200 or 346.97USD or 291.19 Euro or 15,351.16INR etc. Thats for an average 4 door saloon. I would like to compare that with other countries, if possible.""

Insurance to drive?

I'm a college student and I have student health insurance. I just got my permit and I was wondering which insurance I need to get to drive??

""What are some inexpensive, yet reliable auto insurance companies?""

I need a new auto insurance company, Allstate just raised my rates through the roof. But I don't want it to be an unreliable company that will drop me for one little crack in my winshield. State Farm and all those companies are too expensive for me (I am a teenager and work part-time). I live in CA. Any suggestions?""

In Northern California on average how much does the minimal amount of gas and insurance cost per month ?

I'm 18 and looking into buying my first car this year. From my understanding the cheapest of Vehicles could be anywhere from $500-$1000 dollars. Since I'm doing this alone I'm asking you from your own personal experiences with car finances.

Affordable health insurance in florida?

im 17, will be 18 in november, and i need to find health insurance. i need it to cover dental (orthodontics), prescriptions, and mental health services (depression, bipolar disorder). i am a non smoker, and i have no kids. please help!!!""

Which state has the most affordable health insurance?

Which state has the most affordable health insurance?

Massachusetts proof of car insurance while out of state?

OK. In Massachusetts, some car insurance companies don't give you/ offer a separate little card that serves as your proof of insurance; the licence plate/ your registration serves as your proof in MA. Now I was wondering. most other states have a requirement that you carry proof of insurance at all times while driving. In theory, if I was driving in another state, some distance from MA and therefore where the police are not familiar with how MA does things, and get pulled over, would the officer know that I was insured, even if I was unable to produce the little card, or would he always assume that without it, the driver is uninsured? the insurance is listed on the registration, but...""

How long does it take for insurance rates to go up after getting speeding ticket?

how long does it take for your insurance rates to get affected if you get a speeding ticket.. does it apply right away or do i have time to go to traffic school.. and if i go to traffic school will all evidence of there ever been a ticket disappear?

How will my insurance handle a guy that hit someones head in my car?

a guy hit someones head into my car and says he wants to go through insurance to pay for it. I had nothing to do with it, I just happened to be there, but theres a good sized dent. Is this going to make my rates go up? i took it to get an estimate and was around $450""

How do I find health insurance for myself as an individual?

I am currently a sophomore in college, and I really hate student insurance, as it covers and pays for almost nothing, and doesn't include dental. Where do I go if i need to get a different provider?""

Could anyone recommend a decent car insurer for a 17yr old female in the UK???

I am looking for cheap car insurance, the cheapest I have found is 860 fully comp for a Fiat Punto. I would like to find cheaper, could anyone recommed an insurer??? Thanks, Jay""

Under the new Cash Allowance Rebate program is my vehicle eligible if the registration and insurance ran out?

I owned my jeep cherokee for four years continuously registered and insured but just recently moved to California from New Jersey and out of necessity just let the truck sit for a few months during which the reg and insur. just expired about three months ago. So now can I still use this as a redeemable option on a new car.

Mustang gt insurance be liability only. i own car?

how much will it be to put liability insurance only on a mustang gt 2002. I own the car and im 16 male

Who pays the car insurance?

The registered owner or the title owner me??

What is the cheapest car for a 17 year old to have?

So I'm 17 and just got my drivers lisence! Woo! I'm trying to find what the cheapest car to have is? Like to buy, insurance and maintaining all together of you get me?""

What is the best insurance company for young drivers?

Does anyone know of any insurance company which is cheap for young, new drivers? I am 17 and I found an insurance company that costs roughly 2,500 but that is still quiet a bit. Any help will be useful..!!""

Does it cost anything to add someone to your insurance policy?

Does it cost anything to add someone to your insurance policy?

Whats a cheap insurance car to buy?

I just turned 18 and just passed my driving test, so i want to buy a car since i'm the only person in my home whole has a driving license, but i want to buy a car that will be VERY cheap to insure. So many people have told me different things and I'm really confused.""

What is the best way to insure a car with a salvage title?

I recently purchased a car with a salvage title. This is my first car, and I'm in deep enough that it wouldn't make sense to get rid of it at this point. I would like to get collision insurance on it if possible. Really, there are a couple questions here: *NOTE: I live in Ohio. I'm not sure the answer to this question will be the same in all states. Can I have a car with a salvage title retitled with a clean title through some sort of govermnent inspection? If so, how would I go about this? Is there any way I can get collision insurance for my car? Will insurance rates be higher for me? Anything you can tell me will be much appreciated!""

Full tort or limited tort... Is it worth it to spend the extra 15% to get full tort car insurance?

I am 21 and getting my first new car tomorrow. I am looking for car insurance. It looks like I could save about 15% on my car insurance if I get limited tort instead of full tort. What do I risk by only getting limited tort? Is it worth the money?

Can I get liability insurance on a 2005 mazda tribute or will I have to get full coverage?

Can I get liability insurance on a 2005 mazda tribute or will I have to get full coverage?

How do insurance companies determine a vehicle's value in a crash? Do they look at the Kelly Blue Book Value?

How do insurance companies determine a vehicle's value in a crash? Do they look at the Kelly Blue Book Value?

Help with life insurance?

Term insurance is recommended over whole life insurance for most people. If you, too, choose term insurance, how might you then provide a long-term savings for yourself since term insurance has no savings plan?""

18 year old just trying to find health insurance...?

My mom retired last year and my parents decided that without the benefits, it was too expensive for me to be on their health insurance plan (it would have been ~$750 a month). I've been without insurance since August. I just turned 18 yesterday. I live in Connecticut and my parents are basically being lazy about it and not helping at all... even though I have an entire LIST of things I need to get checked out/surgery/medications, including wisdom teeth surgery (dental insurance, yay!!!!!) and I can't do ANY of it until I have insurance. I seriously have NO idea what to do and my parents procrastinate like crazy and I can't take being uninsured anymore. What do I do?!""

tennessee insurance agency

tennessee insurance agency

How much will my insurance go up for a speeding ticket?

I got a speeding ticket in July going 100 mph in California. I live in AZ and was visiting when I got pulled over. I got a notice in the mail saying it's mandatory for me to appear in court. Does anyone know how much my insurance will go up? I'm 25 yrs old and this is my 2nd speeding ticket. The 1st one was in AZ and it doesn't show up on my record because I went to driving school.

What kind of Certificate of Insurance do I need.?

Hi. I just found a new apartment and in the lease contract there is something about a Section 1940.5 of the California Civil Code. The code basically says that if I have a waterbed or fish tank that is over 5 gallons I need to provide the landlord with a certificate of Insurance in the amount of $100,000. What kind of insurance would I be looking for to cover this? I have a 18 gallon fish tank that I would like to keep. Thank you!""

Is it Bad to Let Your Car Insurance Run Out Temporarily?

The insurance on one of my cars will run out in a few days, and the other one will run out at the end of this month. I was thinking of just waiting until the end of the month to get a new policy so that it will be more convenient and from now on I can renew both at the same time. Of course, I don't plan on driving car #1 until I get the new policy. Is this a bad idea? Can insurance companies charge more if you let your insurance run out, even for a short while? (They usually ask you when you're getting a quote online.)""

Is insurance expensive for a 17 year old Riding a 125 ped?

i live in bromley south east london/ kent i have recently bought a Gilera Runner VXR 180 Reg as 125, im using it for college and seeing family, i have completed my C.B.T Bike is road ready MOT&Tax could anyone give me a guestimate on how much it would be on your previous experience and any good companies that insure young drivers ? thanks alot (P.S if you would like too right a smart ar*e comment please dont do it on my post, im asking for advice not a lecture)""

Car Insurance Coverage and a DUI Question?

My daughter received a DUI a while back, as she put the car in 'Drive' (instead of 'Reverse') and drove through the side of a restaurant. (closed, thank God!...No people there) She refused the Breathalyzer, and was taken to the ER for about 7 hours. She was given a DUI. This car was titled, registered and insured by me- I am her mother. She is over 30 years old. The insurance has covered to fix the car, but the restaurant has retained an attorney. (I live in SC and have $100,000 property damage on the car) Yesterday, my insurance adjustor called to ask for a release of my daughter's medical records, so they could meet with the restaurant's attorneys and show that she was not drunk. Well, she was drunk, and my daughter's attorney has told me not to release that information, as it is a violation of her rights- she already refused the breathalyzer, etc.Also, she WAS drunk, and this would only release that information possibly to others. Please no rude comments about all of this- I get it! Question: Can my insurance company refuse to pay for my daughter's ER bill ($13,000) AND the property damage, AND whatever else- due to the fact that they are going to decide she was 'drunk.' ??? Is there any way to protect my assets? Specifics would be great, if you know them. Thanks.""

Does anyone know of Affordable Health Insurance for a Women in her 20s?

I will be 22 in a Month and recently tried to donate plasma and was told my blood sugar level was to high and they were concerned I may have diasbetes. I'm not covered by my parents health insurance anymore and I really need to find something that could help me. I do have a job and probably will have to work full time in order to get any health benefits. But is there something else out there anyone knows of where I can afford to pay for health expences?? I appreciate greatly. Thanks!

Who offers the best life insurance in Illinois?

simple enough. ive done my research and the best i can find is either American Income Life insurance or State farm. anyone have either of these and think they are reasonable?

No fault coverage of automobile insurance in California?

What is no-fault coverage? When you get in an accident, how it works? I don't know and understand the term.""

Car accident I have liability the other involved had no insurance?

I got into a car accident today which pretty much totalled out the back half of my van, seeing as the insurance agent will probably call it as totalled out. Here is my question the other party told us that he had no insurance at all and I only carry liability insurance whats going to happen with my vehicle, how are my damages going to be paid?""

Affordable Care Act - Will I have to buy insurance?

I'm young and just starting out. I'm only going to make like 12-15K per year... Will I have to purchase insurance or pay the tax penalty?

What heathcare insurance plan make the most sense?

I'm looking to purchase health insurance in Ohio for myself and my wife. We have no ongiong medical conditions and are in good health. What deductable and co pay make the most sense for our situation? What provider has the most options or is most popular and easy to work with?

""What kind of life insurance is better for me, term insurance or permanent insurance?""

Is there any advantage to permanent insurance over term insurance or vis versa? I mean, basically it looks like term is the better deal because I can buy more death benefit for a lot less money, but permanent insurance gives me money with a death benefit. I'm in my late 40's, have a wife and 2 kids, normal bills, mortgage, etc. Does anyone have any opinions about what is really the better deal long term?""

How do you find out if someone that hit you has insurance?

the insurance information i was given after someone hit my car turned out to be fake. my insurance company called his company but was told that the policy # does not exist. so is there a way i can find out through DMV or somewhere his true insurance information? if i can't find it, would this qualify as uninsured since i have uninsured drivers coverage? it would waive my deductible and it would pay for the injuries i suffered in the accident but only if he really is uninsured.""

Does your car insurance go up if you don't have it for a period of time?

If I dropped my car insurance for monatary reasons, and then picked it back up in a few months would I still have the same rate as before?""

What is the approx. monthly cost for a car insurance for a 19 year old?

i have about one year with my license, i dont have a car yet, but i want to learn more about car insurances before i get one, and i want an idea of what is the cost.""

Question about cars and insurance?

I know that the cheapest NEW car to ensure is the VW Up costing around 1500 a year. But is there any USED cars that can match this insurance cost but isn't any older than 5 years? NOTE: The VW Up is in insurance group 1

How do I know what value to put on my home insurance?

I have a flat in London that I want to insure. The flat is 64 metres squared and is 100 years old. The market value is about 200,000 to 210,000. A similar flat, in my town, in the North is valued at about 100 000 One would assume that the insurable value would be less for than the market value in London. My question is for what value should I insure the flat in London?""

""When your 18 and still in high school, does the car insurance company still check your grades for a discount?

My younger sister recently turned 18 and got her license. She's in dying need of insurance but she's a D average student and ashamed to show her grades. Does the car insurance discount still apply to students who are 18?

A Question About My Health Insurance?

If I have health insurance, for example, health net..and I got married..would I still be covered even though I have a different last name or will my health insurance drop me?""

""Got a speeding ticket in Oregon, can I go to traffic school so my insurance company will not raise my policy?""

I know in California you can go to traffic school once every 18 month and the insurance company will not raise your rates, is that the same for Oregon, and how do I go about it?""

""How do i get an car insurance quote without giving (name, address, social security no, etc)?""

A 2001 toyota sienna xle, for a 15 year old driver W/ Learners Permit living in bellevue, WA never had one ticket or accident, mostly A's grades, employed PS Not 15 yet but am employed, just wanna know when the time comes""

Should I report my small fender bender to my insurance?

so I hit a motorcycle and broke one tail light off of it. The guy took my insurance info but said if I pay out of pocket he won't report it. the thing is... there was really no fender damage to the paint but he said he needs to paint it. I went to an autobody shop and to fix the light it will be about maybe $200. but if he is gonna want to paint his fender, should I report it to my insurance. I have pictures but not close ups of the paint. how much will my premium go up. I have no deductible and I have mercury insurance in California. Is it worth going through insurance... how can he prove that the paint job is caused by me? Thanks! Any advice on what to do would be great! I don't want my insurance to go up and don't mind paying out of pocket, but am scared he will eff me over with the paint job and go to my insurance.""

Does anyone know if the 5 hour turbine transition for helicopters is a reg or just an insurance minimum?

I can't find anything in the FAR's that mentions anything about having to do a 5 hour turbine transition when going from flying piston helicopters to turbines (as long as no type rating is required). Is it just an insurance minimum?

Moped insurance for 16 year olds?

about how much would the insurance cost me for my moped, i'm 16, i have my provisional licence? x""

Cheap reliable cars that have cheap car insurance?

Thank you

tennessee insurance agency

tennessee insurance agency

https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/virginia-insurance-market-share-brian-lee/"

[defiancerpg-blog]

LIBRA ~ THE SCALES

Name 🡒 Dinah Drake

Age 🡒 24

Identity 🡒 Female & She/Her

Orientation 🡒 Bisexuality

Origin 🡒 Houston, Texas

Nova Type 🡒 Corpus

Song 🡒 Blackbird by Sarah McLachlan (The Beatles Cover)

Faceclaim 🡒 Stella Maeve

RESISTANCE IS NOT TERRORISM

TW - Death, Inferred Child Abuse  

So, tell me a little bit about growing up. What was your childhood like?

Dinah glances downward as thoughts begin swirling in her head. Does she wanna know about the good things? The snippets of memories she has of her parents before that day of the New York City protest? The soft smile in her mother’s eyes as they dance through the house. The gruff laugh of her father as he picks her up and twirls her, telling her she’s his little girl. Perhaps she’d like to know about the day the cops showed up on Dinah’s doorstep with child services in tow. Or how the first family called her an abomination and told her she should have died with her parents. And the many more like them that followed over the years. Perhaps, she’d like to know how Dinah raised herself into adulthood one agonizing step at a time. No, that’s too much. So Dinah smiles softly, reminiscent of her mother, “Oh it wasn’t too bad. Could have been worse. It made me who I am though, so I’m grateful.”

What about your relationship with your family?

This is easier, Dinah sighs in relief. This she can talk about without having to skirt around the darker details of her adolescence.  “My mom was amazing. She loved to bake, so most of my best memories of them are in the kitchen helping her as much as a little kid can. My dad loved to eat, so he’d be in there too joking and attempting to steal a bite of whatever we were making. They loved each other so much. And me. And I love them...” Dinah trails off, the excitement of talking about her parents fading. For a split second, the pain of missing them seeps in, but just for a moment. In the next, she’s smiling again, pushing those sad memories back into the little vault at the back of her mind. 

Are you the only Nova in your family? Or were your parents Novas too? What about any siblings?

Dinah laughs, “No thankfully. My mom was human and my dad was a Nova. She knew long before Novas were in the public and she loved him for it. My mom was a bit of a fanatic for superheroes, so she was pretty much ecstatic that she’d fallen in love with someone with actual superpowers. She even named me after one of her favorite comic characters. So they taught me from early on that my abilities were a gift to be used wisely to help others, not to exploit. As for siblings...” Her voice falters as a memory surfaces of her parents jumping around in excitement as a ten almost eleven-year-old Dinah sits at the dining room table eating cereal. ‘What’s going on?’ She asks grinning as her mom turns to her, smile larger than she’d ever seen. ‘What would you say, if I told you that you were going to be a big sister?’ Young Dinah’s grin grows even bigger as she jumps up excitedly and begins dancing around the dining room with her parents. It was perhaps one of the last purely happy memories Dinah has. Two months later came the New York City Riot, and everything changed forever. “No, I don’t have any siblings,” she finally whispers.    

What’s your ability like? Is it easy to control or harder? Do you even like it?

“Oh, it’s great. I love being able to heal people. It takes a toll on me for sure, but I can handle it just fine. It’s so worth the pain just to make sure someone else is okay. I always kind of wanted to be a doctor, because I thought it would be a great way to put my abilities to good use. But college is expensive, especially med school. My parents had left me some money, but not enough. I used it instead to get through nursing school.” Dinah grins as a memory springs to mind. “I think the first time I ever healed someone was when I was about five or six. My mom had cut her hand with a knife and I don’t know something instinctual in me reached out and held her hand. I felt pain then as if my hand was being cut with a knife now. My mom screamed in fear because she didn’t fully understand what was happening. Then she saw that the wound on her own hand was completely healed, and the one on my own hand was healing over too. Faster than normal healing, but not super quick, ya know? It didn’t take us long to figure out how my ability worked. We spent a lot of time practicing and working on controlling it since, at the time, Novas were still in the dark. We had to hide what we were, my father and I.”

How would you describe your personality?

“I’m a nice person,” she squeaks out timidly. “I guess I'm kind of quiet too. People are always saying I should speak up more and stop being so shy...But I don't think I'm shy.” She purses her lips for a moment in thought. “I love being around people and listening to them talk, I'm not afraid to talk to people, that is. I just think I prefer to listen to other people's stories rather than share mine.” Dinah answers honestly. She knows that she probably should be a little bit chattier, and perhaps even a bit more assertive, but she can’t help it. She’s not a fan of confrontation.  

What do you think your greatest strengths and weaknesses are?

Dinah’s cheeks redden at the question. She’s not used to talking about herself so much, and especially not in a bragging way. “Most might say I’m too nice. They see it as a weakness that I try to see the good in everyone, but I don’t see it that way. I see it as a strength. It’s really easy to be pessimistic and see only the darkness, but the real strength is seeing the good too.” She offers a soft smile in thought. “For actual weaknesses, I guess I have trouble focusing on myself,” she lets out a nervous chuckle. “I tend to spend most of my time worrying about everyone else, that sometimes I forget to just stop and check in with myself if you know what I mean?”

Where and what were you doing the day the Nova Protection Act was enacted?

“I was at the hospital...They’d been talking about it for months on the news. I guess I never really thought it’d get passed? Like there was some worry in my mind, but I had faith that the people wouldn’t let it pass. But then it did and I was standing in a patient’s room fixing their IV. The tv was on and the sound was off, but I glanced up and I saw it right there on the evening news. I was already tired. I’d helped save a car crash victim hours earlier, and it was a twelve-hour shift to boot.” Dinah goes quiet for a minute as she gathered her thoughts. So, um, it took me a few minutes to actually process what they were saying. One of the doctors I worked with was a Nova too, and I remember like hearing him freaking out. He was yelling, and some of the other nurses were trying to calm him down. I was just standing there...in shock. I don’t really remember much immediately after. It’s all kind of a blur,” she sighs heavily.

Did you immediately run? Or did you try to obey the law and report to the Anti-Nova Force?

“I kind of wish I had,” Dinah answers, her eyes drifting toward the side, as she thought back to those first days of Th Siege. “I had hope that maybe it wouldn’t be bad. That maybe they really did have good intentions. But when they took me into custody I saw how they treated us. I experienced how they treated us. Like we were animals that needed to be caged and tamed. But the NPA had at least given us some rights. They weren’t allowed to truly imprison us unless we were caught using our abilities, especially against the Wardens. But it was awful. I saw so much pain that not even I could heal. I was stuck in custody for almost a month....but so many never escaped. So many of us are trapped within those glorified prison camps.  

How have you survived this last year and a half or so? Did you have any help or were you all alone? How did you find Yalena’s Sanctuary?

“They were transporting us the night I escaped. It was raining. The driver must have hit a bad spot because we were hydroplaning and the bus ran into the ditch. Most of us were dosed with Novacaine just enough to suppress our abilities.The bus was on its side. The driver was laying awkwardly. His head turned in an awful position. Almost everyone was hurt somehow, especially the Wardens...” Dinah choked up just a bit. “I wanted to help them, even though it was their job to keep us locked up. But I couldn’t, the Novacaine was still in my system. A few of the other Novas realized now was our chance to run. I joined them. We stuck together after that, that is until one of Yalena’s scouts found us and told us that we’d be safe there.” Dinah skips over the details of her year on the run. It’s not a time she really likes to reflect on.

What were you doing when the raid happened? How did you respond to the flood of Wardens? How quickly did you go through Yalena’s portal?

“I was in the makeshift medical wing. It’s where I spent most of my time after arriving at Yalena’s. Most nights I actually slept on a cot in there in case of an emergency. Or if I just got too exhausted to go back to my quarters. That’s actually what had happened that night. One of the scouts had come back with a gunshot wound. It had taken a lot out of me. I was half asleep when the sounds of screaming started...” Dinah’s voice fades as the question takes her back to that moment. The children, oh god the children. There weren’t many at the Sanctuary, but it sounded like the Wardens weren’t worrying about whether they killed anyone or not. No this was all about controlling Novas, and a few dead wasn’t going to hurt their consciences. That more than almost anything broke Dinah’s heart. The chaos had her jumping up, despite still healing from the gunshot wound she’d absorbed earlier. She was running and suddenly Yalena was there opening a portal. It looked like the Wardens were using more than just tranquilizers. Bullets were flying everywhere. Dinah knew she was needed here, to help the wounded. But Yalena yelled at her to get through the portal, that there were already wounded through it that needed immediate attention. It was that command that got her through the next hours of chaos. She had been given a job to do and no matter how awful everything was she was going to do it. After that, she slept for almost two days from all the healing she’d had to do.

What has living in The Imperium been like for you? Do you feel safer than before? Is it better or worse than on the run, or Yalena’s Sanctuary?

A soft giggle escapes. “It’s really nice,” she answers rather quickly. “It’s the nicest place I’ve probably ever stayed. Even my apartment back in New York wasn’t this nice, or clean. Plus I hadn’t had a hot shower in forever.” Dinah nods as she recalls the first shower she took after arriving there. She may have actually cried tears of joy, though she’s not certain because of the water from the shower. “Plus, the library is so nice. It reminds me of when I younger and actually had time to read before I spent most of my time working just to pay rent. I feel bad though. Not even half of us made it through the portal before it closed. And I know that we are all terrified of the possibility that this whole thing is just a fantasy that we’ll have to wake up from. But I hope, and believe that we’re safe now.”  

The last question. If war broke out between us and the humans, which side will you be on?

Dinah’s silent for a moment as the question sinks in. Certainly, it makes sense that this all might lead to war. After all, revolutions start from oppressed people standing up for themselves. So logically, it would most likely would, happen. But Dinah’s heart wishes otherwise. She still clings to the belief that humans are good and they will see the error of their ways. That peace is still an option. It’s what her parents died to believe. But whether a war will happen is not the question she was asked, Dinah finally accepts. “I don’t like to think about that,” she finally answers honestly.  

REBELLION IS ESSENTIAL

Empathic Healing 🡒

The ability to shift wounds between two individuals regardless of whether it is physical, mental, or spiritual. Through this ability, the user has some cellular regenerative abilities that allow them to heal faster than the original owner of the wound(s), but only just a little faster depending on their strength, the wound itself, and how life-threatening it is. If they absorb deadly wounds, they may just narrowly escape death themselves. Though if they are at maximum strength there is a possibility that they could manage to take on the wounds of a recently deceased person, thus reviving them. However, even at maximum strength, there is a high chance they might die from the wounds themselves.

REVOLUTION IS COMING

Hercules 🡒 It was after you had been living at the Sanctuary for a little while when one of the scouts said there were rumors of a Nova nearby that was badly wounded. So you kicked yourself into gear and joined the scouting party. It didn’t take your group long to find The Strong Man. He was indeed badly hurt, and it took a lot of you to save him. So much so that it was days before you fully recovered. But when you woke up, he was there watching over you protectively. He was grateful for what you’d done and wanted to thank you the moment that you were conscious. You and The Strong Man quickly became friends, despite his gruff exterior and now you don’t know what you’d do without their friendship. The two of you managed to keep each other strong even when things get really bad. 

LIBRA IS CLOSED 

[romancatholicreflections]

27th November >> Daily Reflection/Commentary on Today’s First Reading (Daniel 1:1-6,8-20)  for Roman Catholics on Monday of the Thirty-Fourth Week in Ordinary Time

Commentary on Daniel 1:1-6,8-20

For this, the last week of the Church Year, we will be reading the Book of Daniel. At first sight it seems to be a historical book but in fact it is placed among the prophetic books of the Old Testament. It consists of two principal parts: one of apparently historical accounts and the other with a number of visions.

It was written during the period of persecution we were reading about last week in the Books of Maccabees with the intention of bolstering the morale of the Jews by reading about the heroic exploits of Daniel and his friends in a similar period of persecution about five hundred years earlier.The book belongs to the prophetic genre because it is essentially conveying a message of hope and confidence in the ultimate victory of God and his followers.

But it is also an apocalyptic book because its message is revealed in highly symbolical language, much of which would only make sense to initiates and not to outsiders. In this it very much resembles the Book of Revelation in the New Testament.

As we will see from the passages chosen for this week it is a highly readable and even entertaining book but this should not distract us from its serious underlying message. Especially because of the vision of the final coming of the Son of Man (to be read on Friday), this Book has been chosen for the final week of the year (as the Book of Revelation will be read in the same week of Year II).

Today’s reading is from the introduction to the book and presents four young Hebrews who are brought to serve in the court of King Nebuchadnezzar in Babylon.

The story begins by recalling the time when King Nebuchadnezzar besieged Jerusalem during the third year of the reign of King Jehoiakim of Judah, the Southern Hebrew Kingdom, in which Jerusalem was situated. This would have been in 605 BC. We can read about this in the Second Book of the Kings. Nebuchadnezzar took Jehoiakim and the sacred vessels of the Temple back to Babylon (here called Shinar). He put his trophies into the treasure of his own gods. Those reading the story and living under the tyranny of Antiochus IV Epiphanes would immediately have seen the parallel with the plunder of Jerusalem and the desecration of the temple which they themselves experienced under the Assyrians. Daniel and his companions were in this first deportation to Babylon. The prophet Ezekiel was taken away in a second deportation in 597 BC. In a third deportation in 586 BC, Jerusalem and the Temple were destroyed. From the Israelites in this first deportation, the king ordered Ashpenaz, his chief eunuch, to pick out a number of young men who were of noble descent. They had to be both physically perfect and intellectually outstanding and so suitable for service at the royal court. They were not then being chosen merely as pages. In eastern courts those destined for the career of ‘letters’ (scribes, translators, archivists, scholars, astrologers, etc.) were trained from childhood. The emphasis on physical appearance may indicate that other personal services for the king were also expected of them. This would be quite normal.

They would also be taught to speak and write the Chaldaean language. This would include learning the classical literature in Sumerian and Akkadian cuneiform, a complicated syllabic writing system. The language of normal communication in multiracial Babylon, however, was Aramaic, written in an easily learned alphabetic script and certainly known to the four young men.

They were to be given only the best of food, straight from the king’s own table. This, he felt, would help maintain their good looks. Three years of training were set aside before they entered royal service. We are now for the first time told their names. They are all from the kingdom of Judah (the Southern Kingdom). They were Daniel (means “God is my judge”), Hananiah (“the Lord shows grace”), Mishael (“Who is what God is?”), and Azariah (“the Lord helps”). Our reading omits their also being given Babylonian names by the chief eunuch: Daniel – Belteshazzar; Hananiah – Shadrach, Mishael – Meshach, and Azariah – Abed-nego. These names will be used later in the book. It is clear that Daniel stands taller than his three companions and there are some clear resemblances between Daniel and Joseph, the son of Jacob who became a high official in the Pharaoh’s court.

There was one problem for the young men in this idyllic life: they were expected to eat food which was in violation of Jewish dietary laws. Daniel, who was anxious to observe the Law, asked the chief eunuch to be excused from eating food which his religion regarded as unclean. This was not only because the food was, by Jewish laws, “unclean” but, before eating, the Babylonians offered food and drinks to their gods. So, even otherwise clean foods could be unclean because they had been offered to idols or had been cooked on wood taken from a sacred grove. Some of the wine could have been poured over a pagan altar.

Unclean animals, like pigs, could have been used as meat and even other animals might not have been killed and prepared in ways acceptable to Jewish law. For a devout Jew, to disobey the laws about food was equivalent to apostasy and we saw in the readings from Maccabees how Antiochus was forcing the Jews to eat pork as a sign of apostasy. The eunuch who, by God’s favour, looked kindly on Daniel’s request was at the same time anxious about the king’s reaction. The young men were being fed special food from the royal table and, if by not eating this food, the Jewish boys began to look thinner than the other young men, the king would not be pleased and the eunuch’s own head could be in danger for allowing this.

Daniel then asked the guardian appointed to look after them by the eunuch to allow them a 10 days’ trial just eating raw vegetables and water and, at the end of that time, see how they compared with the other boys. Raw vegetables and fresh water would be safe from any ritual uncleanness. The request was granted. The number 10 often had the symbolic significance of completeness.

At the end of the 10 days, the four Jewish boys looked fatter and healthier than those who had been eating from the king’s table and were allowed to continue with this diet. [From our better knowledge of food properties, we know it is possible that their vegetarian diet was actually much healthier than the rich diet that came from the king’s table.]

In addition to their physical perfection, God gave the four young men knowledge and skill in every aspect of literature and learning. This would mean that they mastered Babylonian literature on astrology and divination by dreams. In addition, Daniel had a special gift of interpreting every kind of vision and dream (in this he resembles Joseph). But in the crucial tests of interpretation and prediction, which Daniel was called on to give later on, only God’s special revelation enabled Daniel to interpret correctly. When the time of their formation was complete, the chief eunuch presented all the young men to King Nebuchadnezzar. He spoke with all of them but was most impressed by the four young Jews. And so they became members of the royal court. Whenever the king consulted them, he found them ten times (perfection again) more reliable than all the magicians and soothsayers in his kingdom.

There are lessons flowing from this story, which does not have to be taken as literally true, although much of the background has a historical basis. It is an edifying story to encourage people living in difficult conditions in a much later age. The loyalty of Daniel and his companions to the requirements of their faith under difficult circumstances is presented as a model and an inspiration to their descendants. And, with God on their side, they were bound to succeed. The gods of Babylon were no match for the God of Abraham, Isaac, Jacob and Moses.

We, too, can be inspired by the integrity and courage of these young men. But, in our own Christian tradition, there many other stories – strictly historical – of people who have not hesitated to give their lives not just to keep external religious observances but for much greater issues of Truth and Justice and the Kingdom of God.