#the difference between protection and vengeance but both times it's love expressed as the intention to die IDK IDK IDKKKKK

[rotisseries]

planet of love

[justinalovee]

Now we live

Previous chapter

Chapter: 0.06

Nova turned another corner hearing the footsteps that had been following her down the hallway, she stepped into a small empty room. Letting out a sigh she turned to see the person she hated most in the world staring at her.

“I’m sorry.” Letting out a scoff Nova turned to walk away when a sobbing noise caused her to stop. “I deserved what’s going to me, I know that. Raven, Clarke, Abby, Kane all trying to beg for my life when we both know I don’t deserve a second chance. I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”

The grounder stared at without showing any emotion. “You killed my sister, and her unborn baby.”

“I know.”

“And my friend,” she sighed. “Treyton would have been able to get your people out of mount weather.”

“I know.”

“Why did you do it? Why did you decide to massacre an entire village full of innocent people?” Nova blinked away fresh tears. “Nobody deserves to die like that.”

Finn wiped away his own tears before shaking his head. “I thought I was doing it for love. It was never my intention to harm anyone. I just wanted to find Clarke.” The blonde girl from before. “I didn’t know about the mountain men, and I was convinced the grounders took her.”

“And you would have done anything to get her back?” Finn nodded. “Is Clarke your life partner?”

“No, she hates me. It’s complicated, you wouldn’t get it.”

Nova frowned, “try me.”

______

“You don’t need to follow me around Nova,” Murphy scoffed.

He liked his grounder friend, but ever since he punched Bellamy she had been strangely clingy to him. Almost as if she was afraid to let him out of her sight.

“Your people don’t like you, I don’t trust them.”

Murphy laughed at her comment. She was right. Nova had overheard his conversation with Clarke, and had jumped in to defend him.

“You were with him at the village.”

“I tried to stop him.”

“Not hard enough.”

Nova finally snapped, “John did everything he could. It’s not his fault somebody went crazy and massacred innocent people.”

Murphy cut Clarke off before she had a chance to respond. “You know what, you want to start blaming people, Clarke? He was out there looking for you."

“Yeah, well...let’s say I’ve given them plenty of reasons to hate me. I can’t expect them to trust me over night. Maybe I’m only a one compadre at a time person anyway.” Murphy stopped walking when he saw the confused look on Nova’s face. He smiled and shoved her shoulder playfully, “It means friend.”

“Will you tell me about it someday? What happened when you fell from the sky?”

“Only if you let me use your bow and arrow.”

Nova paused for a moment, “no deal.”

They continued to walk in silence, both of them taking in the beauty of the forest around them. Murphy had walked in the same direction many times, but this was the first time he truly appreciated it. He glanced at the grounder by his side, the sunlight caused her different eye colours to be more obvious. He had heard mocking comments in Arkadia about her eyes, but to him they were beautiful.

“Are we really friends?” Nova asked.

Murphy blushes, realising he had been caught staring. “Uh...I guess. Why?”

“Friends forgive friends when they do something bad.”

He frowned at the comment. What was she planning on doing? “You can alway just tell me what’s going on. I’m not very good at decoding things.”

“I can’t,” she shook her head. “Trust me...if things go south over the next few days, just know I appreciated you looking out for me.”

Although he didn’t like it, Murphy let the subject go. Nova had been awful quiet, and he knew it wasn’t because of the whispers around camp. She was hiding something from him.

______

When they reached the drop-ship Bellamy, Raven, Finn, and a wounded Clarke were already there waiting. Nova noticed the look of anger that crossed the brunette's face.

“Why is she here?” Raven spat. “We are trying to save Finn, not hand him over to the grounders.”

Just as an argument was about to break out among the group, Finn interrupted them. “Don’t be mad at Murphy, I asked Nova to come.”

“Why?” Clarke asked.

Nova rolled her eyes seeing the blonde girl from before. Couldn’t she have stayed at camp? Both Raven and Clarke stared at the grounder, wishing she wasn’t there. Clarke felt guilty every time she looked at her. Nova reminded her of what they did to her and Lincoln. Raven was pissed, Nova wasn’t a part of her plan.

“Murphy, what are you doing here?” Bellamy finally asks.

He turned to look at Raven. “I believe I was invited.”

Nova glanced between the sky people, something was off. Finn was right. The spacewalker had warned her beforehand that his friends would try to save him. She spoke directly to Raven, “why did you really invite John here? And don’t say it was for an extra pair of hands.”

“Finn wasn’t the only one in the village.”

Bellamy shook his head, “Raven hold on.”

Murphy looked at her, shocked. “Whoa. Raven, I came here to protect him. You were the one who wanted me to come. You…” He paused. “That’s why you asked me to come along.”

Raven turned to face her friends, to try and convince them of her cause. “Enough Grounders saw him at the village. They’d believe he was the shooter.”

“I was there!” Nova yelled. “I saw what he did. What Finn did. Lexa won’t accept somebody else’s life over his.”

“Go to hell!” Murphy hissed.”

“Drop your gun!”

Raven took a step closer to Murphy, causing Nova to point her arrow at her. The moment was tense. Nobody except from Finn and Murphy knew for sure that Nova wouldn’t shoot Raven.

“This is stupid,” Finn said. “We need to split up so we don’t kill each other. Murphy, cover the upper level and take Nova with you. I’ll take the lower level, and the rest of you guys cover the front gate.”

As Murphy started to head towards the ladders, he noticed Finn whispering something into Nova’s ear. He watched as she nodded and followed him without saying a word. “What did he just say to you?”

“Nothing important.”

______

The screams and pleads from the Skaikru landed on deaf ears. Finn still walked towards the grounders to hand himself in.

Murphy walked up behind Nova and spoke low enough so only she would hear. “You knew he was going to do that, didn’t you?”

She nodded.

“You should have told me.” Murphy couldn’t hide the pain in his voice, he felt betrayed by her not telling him. “Anything else I need to know about?”

Nova opened her mouth to answer him but she’s closed it again. “I can’t tell you, it’s better if you don’t know.”

“Wh-what will happen to him?”

“It starts with fire. Then they’ll take his hands, tongue, and eyes. All who grieve will get a turn with the knife. And at sunrise, if he still lives, the Commander will kill him with her sword.” Nova turned to see a look of horror on Murphy’s face, she placed a hand on his cheek. “But I won’t let that happen.”

“How?” He asked, confused. “How can you stop any of this?”

“I can only do so much. But I can’t tell you...”

Murphy pushes her hand away, “because you don’t trust me?”

“You’ve got it wrong, I’m not telling you because I trust you. And your opinion matters to me, I’m afraid you’ll hate me for this. What I might cause...”

“Nova, what the hell are you planning on doing?”

______

The chanting for blood got louder as Finn was approached by the blonde girl Clarke. Nova had noticed the knife Raven had handed her, but Lexa wasn’t stupid. Her commander would have someone check her before she approached Finn.

Once Clarke had said her goodbyes, a couple of grounders shoved her aside as the ritual was about to begin. The drums started to beat faster as Finn searched the crowd for the face he was longing to see, he finally spotted her. He smiled and nodded.

Before the first grounder could cut him with their knife, an arrow landed in Finn’s heart.

“Yu gonplei ste odon,” Nova spoke quietly, before jumping down from the tree she was in.

She watched the brunette crumple to the ground as Bellamy caught her. A few other sky people, including Clarke broke down in tears. Nova gulped down as her commander looked directly at her. Lexa’s eyes weren’t full of venom as Nova expected, but instead a soft expression of pride crossed her face.

She let out a deep breath as her hands began to shake. The realisation finally hit her. She had just killed someone. Nova had killed him. Finn had murdered her friends and family, but knowing that still didn’t make her feel any better.

“Nova...”

She spun around to see Murphy looking at her like he never had before. Pity. She didn’t want his sympathy.

“He asked me too,” she explained quietly. “He didn’t want the people he loved to see him suffer.”

The moment Murphy heard the break in her voice he pulled Nova into him. She rested her head against his chest as he wrapped his arms around her tightly, feeling her sobbing against him.

Still onto her, he quickly kicked her bow into the bushes. Just in time. Bellamy approached them. Nova held onto Murphy tigger, knowing if she faced the sky people she would break.

Bellamy cleared his throat, not sure if they knew he was there. Murphy looked up and nodded. “The grounders think one of us killed Finn, so we are all being questioned by Kane.”

_______

Lexa looked at Nova blankly. “Some might think you don't want justice, you want vengeance."

“They have not seen my vengeance.” Nova paused. “He explained his reasons for doing what he did, and asked me to spare his loved ones the pain I suffered.”

“And you agreed?”

“I didn’t at first,” Nova confessed. “I wanted him to die, but then I thought about my sister. Vengeance isn’t what she would have wanted.”

“That’s not the only reason,” Lexa looked at her knowingly. “You wanted to meet death.”

Nova nodded ashamed, “I did. At the time I really did. I went against your orders, and for that I ask you for forgiveness.”

“I will give you that, but I am proud of you.” Nova stared at her shocked. Was she imagining this? “I should have you killed for betraying me, and I will if you cross me again.” Lexa studied her for a moment before speaking again. “What about the one they call Murphy, he was in Tondic when it happened.”

Oh no. Nova began to shake her head rapidly. “He didn’t- he saved me more than once.”

“Explain.”

“When the sky people captured me he and another person called Octavia refused to torture me. John cleaned my wounded feet, gave me extra water, and food. He brought me clean clothes and realised me.” Nova licked her lips. “When me and Treyton escaped the mountain men he saved me from his people.”

Lexa looked at her curiously, “but not Treyton?”

“No, we had split up by that point. He hid me when Finn was on his grounder killing spree. John also got into a physical fight with his own people when he thought one of them was trying to harm me. I’d be dead if it wasn’t for him.”

Lexa raised her eyebrows, the sky boy seemed to care for Nova. “I find it interesting how you speak so highly of him, considering we have been at war with his people. Love makes you weak.”

Nova watched as her commander rose from her chair. “Does anybody else know you shot Finn?”

“Only Murphy, but I believe him when he says he won’t tell anyone. How did you know it was me as soon as I did it?”

Lexa placed a hand on her shoulder, “You aren’t a warrior Nova, your heart is too soft. But you are one hell of a shot.”

Nova let a sad smile spread across her face.

“You will tell know one else of what you did, and you should stay away tomorrow.” Nova wanted to protest but she kept her mouth closed. “The moment the bodies are burned your emotions will give your secrets away.”

“Secrets? I only have one.”

Lexa shook her head. Oh how sweet, Nova doesn’t even know her own feelings yet. “As I said, love makes you weak.”

______

Nova walked away from her people feeling slightly shell shocked. The adrenaline from her mercy kill, and commander spearing her life had just started to wear off.

The stars shined brightly in the night sky, Nova looked up at them and imagined what it would be like in space. Seeing such things everyday.

Hearing the rustle of footsteps, she looked back down to see Murphy. He had been waiting on her. A small smile graced her lips as she accepted the hand he offered her. Fingers locked together they walked back up the hill together in silence.

Next chapter

[aqvarius]

[REVIEW] Her Love in the Force: Ayumu Shinonome - Who I Once Was

I got some pretty good reception on my previous Episode 0 review, so I thought I would share my thoughts on Shinonome’s Who I Once Was as well. It’s not so much a review as much as just my personal thoughts on what this Episode 0 contributes to Ayumu’s past and future, some character analysis on Shinonome, Naru, AyumuxMC, Team Kaga, and why I think it tells us a lot about how I think Ayumu’s Love’s Trial route might play out.

Ayumu’s whole season so far has gone in a pretty different direction from everyone else’s. For example, one of the biggest differences is that his Love’s Battlefield route actually focusses more on his development rather than his MC’s (who frankly… gets little to no development). This is due to another big difference, which is how the role of Tsugaru is used to emphasise the changing dynamic between him and his MC due to their change in hierarchical divide. (I’m also currently working on a piece about how the MC’s dynamic with Team Tsugaru is used as a plot device for the key character and relationship developmental themes and how this differs from route to route, as well as what is consistent.) His Episode 0 does a similar thing.

When I read Soma’s Who I Once Was, it thrilled me because it helped contextualise and provide insight into his character by letting me retrospectively analyse his behaviours and traits in his earlier routes. This was important information since Soma is someone who doesn’t change much before and after joining Public Safety; his MC is the one who has the biggest effect on his changing attitude (and it’s something that he is conflicted about even into his second season). Therefore, his Episode 0 helped develop a more well-rounded picture of the version of him that we actually get to see.  Ayumu’s Who I Once Was does the opposite thing for me. While Ayumu’s Ep 0 does provide a lot more information about his past that we have never heard of (almost everything that happens in Kaga, Goto and Soma’s routes are things that they have already mentioned), what this does is help set up the direction that Ayumu’s future route is heading towards. If Goto’s and Soma’s Episode 0s help us understand where they came from, Ayumu’s tells us where he is going.

Typically, the rest of the PSD instructors join Public Safety to fulfil their vendettas, except Ishigami whose reason for joining Public Safety (apart from maybe his sister’s case) is never explicitly stated afaik because his Episode 0 is literally just about academy life with Kaga lmao. However, Ayumu has no personal tragedy that leads him specifically to Public Safety. He ends up there because of his own mistakes, and the act of joining Public Safety alone helps him to develop a sense of purpose. Contrast this with Goto and Soma, who are still lost in the mist of grief and vengeance even after joining Public Safety, or Kaga, who literally only just got closure on one aspect of his motivation and is still working on the other. For the others, joining Public Safety is a stepping stone to helping them get to where they want to be. For Ayumu, Public Safety finally gives him a sense of purpose and choice, meaning that the Ayumu we see in his MS1 is already markedly different from the version of him we see here in his Episode 0. Later, I will expand on why this is still not entirely him going on his ‘own’ path, but it is still a significant decision nonetheless.  

The path that brings Ayumu to Public Safety is influenced most strongly by two reasons, the former of which is influenced by the latter, and they are: (1) ennui; (2) his love for Sachi.

You may be thinking: how could you leave out Naru, who orchestrates the entire string of events that leads to Ayumu even first getting involved with the police? That’s because the reason that Naru even comes to learn of Ayumu is because of Ayumu’s ennui. So let’s begin with that.

Ayumu’s ennui stems from his privilege and his sense of obligation. We learn that he’s studying at T University (presumably Todai, a.k.a. Tokyo University, one of the country’s most elite institutions) to take over his family’s business (which is in electronics), but that he finds this unsatisfying. Because he thinks that he was adopted just to be the successor to the illustrious Shinonome house, he feels like he has to fulfil his role as heir. However, this is something that he finds personally unfulfilling. The reason for this is partially that he is just a genius who needs more intellectual stimulation. But more significantly, this is because he is struggling with his internal conflict over obligation to his parents (becoming the heir to Kochi Electronics) and his feelings for Sachi (becoming a police officer in the hopes that he will recognise him as her hero). Ayumu is someone who we know to be extremely concerned about his image – not just in the literal, physical sense, but also his whole persona. We know that Ayumu doesn’t even like to show his true self to his own parents; the only person that he’s ever been truly vulnerable around is Goldie. He protects his true feelings well and is quite prone to doing things to keep up an impression that other people have of him. At the same time, he is also someone who is not very communicative, and can often make assumptions about people’s intentions. This is one of the reasons why he is so inherently burdened by what he perceives to be the expectations of others.

Anyway, the different mindsets that he holds regarding these two options are illustrated particularly effectively through the two groups of his university ‘friends’. On the one hand, you have the guys, who are little more than schmoozy jerks who are only interested in one night stands and talking about their sexual conquests. They represent life as a future CEO, where Ayumu would be forced to network with people (and perhaps even become the type of person) who he finds shallow and frankly not worth his time. 

On the other hand, there’s Suo, who represents both a more idealistic and meaningful type of future and a choice that goes along with Ayumu’s goal of being Sachi’s hero, but this path is also something that he clearly is unsure about. Both of these options are ones which are based on what Ayumu thinks that other people want him to do, not because of his personal interest. This is why, quite predictably for a genius but also because he is trapped in a place where he feels he has no real control, Ayumu ends up unfulfilled.

This lack of fulfilment leads him to partake in something that is genuinely a personal interest of his: hobby hacking. We can tell that this is actually fulfilling to him not just because he’s exceptionally talented, does it a lot and says he enjoys it, but also because hacking is the only thing that he is sure about. This is expressed through the directness of his hacking style, which Naru becomes attracted to and praises as “straight to the goal, like a comet”. And this is why I would argue that Naru is less responsible for Ayumu’s ultimate trajectory than Ayumu’s own tedium, because it is the tedium and indecisiveness that Naru takes advantage of the most.

Kinda weird that they didn’t use a close up sprite of Shinonome to match Naru’s one tho. 

If you’ve played Ayumu’s Battlefield route, it’ll come as no surprise to you to know that Naru is manipulative. Honestly, I would go as far as to say I find him to be one of the most terrifying villains throughout HLITF. I won’t go too far into his character, but I want to talk a bit about the relationship between him and Ayumu. For all of his smarts, Ayumu falls into Naru’s trap so easily. This is because Naru recognises and targets certain weaknesses that he picks up, such as Ayumu’s disdain for those around him, which is why he taunts him that he can do better than being friends with those “kids” whose conversation is “way below your level”. 

He’s both stroking Ayumu’s ego and affirming his belief that the uni friends are immature. He does the same thing with the job situation, taunting him not just about Ayumu’s consideration of applying for a civil servant position but also about taking over the family business. Here, he recognises that Ayumu has reservations about both, and seduces him into taking a third option beyond those two: to focus on his hacking and join forces. Naru shows him that his current situation isn’t enough for someone as great as him, recognising Ayumu’s tedium and showing him a dangerous, challenging world.

Ayumu becomes tempted. I think the biggest clue that he has actually fallen into the trap deliberately set by Naru comes at this one point, where we see Ayumu’s internal monologue about how he is spending more and more time with Naru and on the hacking forum. He thinks that he should quit soon, since he was treating it just as a challenge and now knows where his level is. Naru interrupts this line of thought, saying “Too sweet”. He is commenting on the peach nectar, saying that it’s literally too sweet (too much sugar), but the same word 甘い in Japanese is also used to mean naïve, meaning that Naru could be calling Ayumu naïve (for being so easily manipulated). Obviously, Naru probably isn’t responding to Ayumu’s internal monologue since he can’t read minds, but from a reader’s perspective, I think that moment was quite deliberate. Maybe I’m just reading too much into things, but I found it to be both very clever and also quite haunting, especially since the next move that Naru makes is his first attempt to propose the hacking duel which ends up being a trap for Ayumu to allow Naru to steal confidential NPA data.

It’s also clever that Suo interrupts before he can go through with this proposal, since wholesome Suo represents an idealistic path towards justice.

Anyway, even after Naru, who has more or less lured Ayumu almost completely to the dark side, actually successfully proposes that battle, there is one thing stopping him from going through with it, and that leads us on to point number 2.

Let’s talk about Sachi.

She, and his love for her, are the only reason why he’s even considering a future in law enforcement at first. He says as much, that it’s not his dream. 

Those typical Ayumu character traits that I previously discussed in relation to his relationship with his parents make their reappearance. Firstly, the fact that he feels like he needs to keep up a certain image, which is demonstrated when he drinks coffee in front of her and lies about no longer drinking sweet beverages. In this case, he is trying to perform maturity. Secondly, his feeling of obligation: he feels obliged to Sachi to fulfil his promise that he’ll become a police officer in her stead. Thirdly, the fact that this feeling is self-imposed. Sachi never explicitly said “I want you to become a police officer.” He made that promise of his own accord, assuming that’s what she wanted. Ayumu is doing everything that he thinks is expected of him.

(We later find out that she never forgot and he was just assuming that she did)

Even his disillusionment at uni life and his friends to some extent stems from his feelings for Sachi. The main reason he sees those friends as immature is because they talk about nothing but girls and hooking up, even when they are getting top scores in tests. He even actively separates himself from them in this regard: when he thinks about their girl chat, his mind drifts to Sachi and he thinks about how he’s different.

Ayumu is a fool for love. We see the same thing happen over and over again even with his own MC: he’s surprisingly (not that surprising anymore haha) childish and emotional when it comes to his feelings. He is a one-woman man through and through, to the point where he is literally so head over heels that he often allows his feelings towards the subject of his love to dictate his actions. We like to think that Ayumu is so clever and calm and logical – and he can be, when it comes to work – but every mistake he makes in his Episode 0 is the result of an uncontrolled emotional response to being hurt by Sachi. He lost his virginity to a random one night stand when Sachi went on an overnight trip with her teacher. He’s resigned to throw away a future in law enforcement as a way to get back at Sachi because he thinks she’s forgotten her words. 

Think about it: he has no personal negative feelings about the police, not in the way that Soma does, for example. He sees the police agency as a place that’s associated with a promise with Sachi, and how he wants to be seen by her. I previously mentioned that Ayumu is someone who cares a lot about how people see him and is weighed down by a feeling of obligation that he imposes on himself. Thus, when he thinks that she isn’t even thinking of him anymore, he decides to go through with hacking them as a way to get back at her as well as to throw away his heavy feeling of obligation towards that promise. To be honest, every time he threw everything down just to listen to Sachi talk about another man was devastating to read every time. My heart just ached.

However, despite being the reason why he ultimately chooses to give in to Naru’s manipulation, Sachi is the one element about Ayumu that Naru doesn’t know about. What Naru doesn’t know is that all of these emotions that he used to taunt Ayumu lead back to Ayumu’s feelings for Sachi. Those college friends’ talk of hooking up is cheap next to his feelings for Sachi. His indecision over career is due to his internal conflict over whether he will just have his heart broken again. We know that his parents are such great people and keep encouraging him to do what he wants to do, but Ayumu actively chooses to disregard their sentiments in order to keep himself trapped as an excuse. 

To be honest, I think he is choosing to be in denial since he knows that even if he does go through his promise to Sachi and becomes a police officer, it wouldn’t change the fact that she loves some other guy, but he just is too afraid to admit that to himself honestly. He wants the choice to be taken away from him so he doesn’t have to take responsibility for the outcome. Let’s be real, refusing to admit his honest feelings to himself is one of Ayumu’s defining traits lol.

This is why I truly believe that Ayumu is the one man in HLITF who loves the hardest. At the end of the day, all of Ayumu’s choices and mistakes in his Episode 0 come down to his feelings for Sachi. His indecisiveness over his career, his disdain for college talk about hooking up, his conflicting feelings about law enforcement, even his choice to ultimately join Public Safety, almost his entire identity is based around Sachi. Personally, I really appreciate that the writers didn’t underplay how important she was to him and almost his entire past just to appease readers who want to forget about her. Even when the choice to join law enforcement becomes his own choice (bc of the bombing incident), he still relies on Sachi for strength. 

The reason I feel that way is because this is a demonstration of how strong Ayumu’s love is, but also because it just goes to show how much his MC changed him to make him able to forget about someone as important as Sachi and fall in love with her instead. And this is also why I believe, in Ayumu’s future Love’s Trial route, that Naru will be defeated because he will not be able to understand the level of depth and dedication that Ayumu’s love truly reaches, and how his words, actions, thoughts and entire world are shaped by his love for his girl.

Let’s revisit those three points of his character that I mentioned previously and see how they relate to his relationship with his MC – more specifically, how she has managed to overcome them.

1.       Needing to project a certain image. This defence mechanism is something that HLITF MC gradually wore down over the years through her relentless pestering but is dealt with most explicitly in Our Graduation Epilogue chapter 3. She wants to be his home, i.e. the place where he can be himself entirely without any pretence of trying to be cool.

2.       His feeling of obligation. This is something that isn’t as clear cut as a promise, but I would say that the closest thing to obligation here would be his role as her instructor. I think this is one of the reasons that he is so adamant about maintaining that teacher/student boundary and why he has always worked to bring out her innate strengths, because he feels obliged to her as an educator and mentor and that he has to fulfil this duty to her. That’s why he gets so worried about losing that dynamic, because he’s worried that he’ll lose his worth to her when that role no longer exists and that she won’t need him anymore. Luckily, she disproves that for him and shows that she’s actually more excited for that boundary to be dispersed.

3.       Being assumptive/imposing burdens on himself. This is related to what I previously explained about his anxieties. But also, jumping to conclusions is something that we see Ayumu doing throughout the first two seasons and substories as well. These two are constantly getting into arguments because of miscommunication, particularly in substories (the ones that come to mind the most are Temptation Lingerie, 夏、ほてりが冷めるまで and Surprise Date Love Story). But luckily, we know that things always work out because he’s just so in love with her haha and because she’s so unwavering in her love for him~

Naru is formidable. I really think the second half of Ayumu’s S3 is going to be one of the most intense routes in the entire game because he is a direct nemesis who just seems like an anarchistic edgelord, not a whole terrorist group or organisation that has a goal wider than just chaos. He’s clever and crafty, and I believe his hacking skills will be at least on par with Ayumu’s (i.e. I think Ayumu will find it challenging to go against him technically). I think he will be furious that someone of Ayumu’s talent has been coopted by Public Safety, of all people, and he will do anything he can to get his ‘friend’ back with him, perhaps employing the same types of taunting and tempting techniques that he used in this Episode 0.

What will separate the two will be what Ayumu will do for, and with, his MC. The one key point that Naru was missing the first time was that Ayumu’s decisions were ultimately swayed by Sachi, because you know he would have exploited that weakness if he had known. And I believe he will miss that point again this time when he tries to take Ayumu back. He already knows that Ayumu cares for his MC but what he won’t realise that Ayumu’s love can strengthen him now; it’s not a weakness. Plus, Ayumu has already demonstrated, and is now even more explicit about, how far he is willing to go to help her. Also, if he has to battle Naru, he won’t be doing it alone. He has the love of his life, who he personally trained into a specialist, fighting alongside him.

Anyway, that’s enough speculating from me. I don’t have the energy at the moment to articulate in detail about the ways in which Ayumu and his MC love each other, but I’m sure it’s obvious to all of you who have read his routes and fallen in love with him. I just want to mention some things that I loved about this route.

The great thing about every Episode 0 route is that all of the characters are still extremely flawed even at the end, which allows us to get a good sense of how they got from point A (life before PS) to point B (joining PS), and then how that then brings them to point C (meeting and falling in love with you). I mentioned before that joining Public Safety is still not really Ayumu’s own choice. This is because he’s still madly in love with Sachi, and his choice is still at least partially because of her words, although also because of all his mistakes. Also, speaking of mistakes, man does Ayumu make a whole lot of them here.

I really enjoyed seeing him get thrown into a position where he suddenly becomes startingly aware of his relatively privileged life, which also contributes to his sense of ennui btw, and become forced to question huge questions about life, death and morality. Considering all this happens in about 5 years and he presumably spent a couple years at the Police Academy before entering Public Safety, it made me realise that Ayumu learned and matured really quickly. The Ayumu we know now is so much more experienced that it was really fun seeing him basically just be a dumb kid who think he’s so great getting caught up in something bigger than he could have ever imagined. The bombing issue is Ayumu learning what being truly powerless really means. Choosing between life in IT or life in the police becomes a non-issue when he suddenly gets given a day to figure out what to do with his stolen information.

Also, can we just talk about Kaga’s kindness? You guys know how much I love Team Kaga dynamics, and I kind of love that we get to see that their dynamics are basically like this from the start, with Ayumu basically being a brat to Hyogo-san and then Kaga kind of begrudgingly adopting him and going out of his way to recruit him. We love bratty Ayumu but thinking back now, I also love how obedient he is to Kaga and how much they trust each other despite their first ever interaction being Kaga beating Ayumu in a dark alley lmaooo. But the thing that is the most telling to me about Kaga is the fact that we now know that Shinonome was involved in the deaths of Hamaguchi and co., i.e. the very thing that made Kaga choose to transfer to Public Safety. So like Goto and Soma, Kaga and Shinonome play a role in bringing each other to Public Safety. You can tell the writers consulted either a show bible or Kaga’s Ep 0 because the dialogue at the press conference is almost exactly the same in both routes haha. Anyway, Ayumu got tricked into stealing files that Naru deleted from the NPA database regarding the bomb threat case that Kaga was working on. It was Ayumu’s tip to all the reporters and Kaga that led to Kaga sending Hamaguchi and the rest of his squad to the abandoned building where they lost their lives. I mean, obviously, as Namba says, the fault lies with the terrorists (and then with NARU!!!, and of course with the higher ups who just buried the case) but Kaga knows that the case information that Shinonome helped Naru steal was crucial to this case, and yet not only does he not blame Ayumu, he actually goes out of his way to recruit him. I love how Kaga-style it is as well to say “I’m gonna have you in the end anyway. You may as well come quietly. Say yes and then think about it after.”

(This is almost a Prince Joshua level “yes or yes” proposal)

By the way, I also want to bring attention to this one moment in particular where Kaga’s expression SOFTENS when he sees Hamaguchi… Kaga cares about the people around him so much ;~~;

Anyway, I’m gonna wrap it up now because I will literally keep on going and never stop and I’m already about about 4000 words so I’m just gonna add a few more of my notes:

No wonder Namba still treats him as a kid cause he met bratty 20 year old Ayumu

By the way, how great was Namba’s advice? “Whatever you choose, I only hope that it’s to help others and not for your own amusement”

This is another defining difference between Ayumu’s (current) and Naru’s mentalities which I didn’t want to get into cause I had a slightly different focus.

I said this before but I’ll say it again: Ayumu’s parents encouraging him to follow his path and do what he wants to do even though it means that their business will no longer be a family business…. Gives me Emotions

“The shittingest”

Why did Ayumu get the nice giant dorm room that MC gets at police academy when Kaga and Ishigami had to share one room lol

And Goto and Subaru had to share a room too even when they were working detectives in Criminal Affairs

Ayumu calls Kaga yakuza no less thanTHREE TIMES lol

I know that this has been mentioned by Sachi before but this route really hit home for me that the bullying way he treats his MC is like... what he does when he’s happy?! He was so depressed and disillusioned this whole route that we got none of that behaviour and it made me really miss it

By the way, I’m like 90% certain that Suo is going to make an appearance somehow in Ayumu’s Love’s Trial route

TSUKUNO AYUMU!!!!!!!!!!

Also, I wish they gave us a little more introspection on Ayumu’s relationship with MC at the but also what a typical scene between the two of them we get to see! (Her being a dorky, clingy girl and him grousing but actually ENJOYING IT like the tsundere he is)

Do you agree/disagree with my thoughts? Let me know what you thought of, and enjoyed about, the route and my notes on it! 

[whereyoursoulresides]

DiC Dub. vs Sub, Episode 21/25 - “Jupiter Comes Thundering In”/”Jupiter, the Brawny Girl in Love” Pt 2

After so long, here is part two!!

Because of the massive break in between the two, I’ve had to switch gears a little with my explanations, but hopefully they’ll still appear coherent! Without further ado, the remainder of this episode of Dub vs. Sub!

Previously, I covered the manners in which the episode begins to establish the foundation for both diverging character arcs. Propped with knowledge from both Beryl and Kunzite, Zoisite takes his charge with perfect grace and professionalism. Meanwhile, DiC's Zoycite is introduced as being far keener, promisingly relentless, and a more dangerous adversary. If Zoisite was concealing his fangs, as it were...then we were introduced to Zoycite flashing hers.

If it sounds like I'm bashing a dead horse with this difference a lot,  perhaps it's also because the DiC dub seems to do so with as much vigor. Certainly, I can't assume writers' intentions when they re-wrote the character for DiC. However, DiC seemed to find as many opportunities as they can to showcase Zoycite's contrary presentation of Zoisite's original character as often as they can, even when they didn't necessarily have to...

This bit of exposition was given right at the very beginning of the DiC version when no such introduction was made in the original. Possibly, DiC made this change to ramp up the story's dramaticism. However, DiC's reputation for obvious exposition leads me to believe otherwise, especially when it starts cropping up in later episodes more frequently, and for no other reason. 

(For example, yes, I understand that the following screenshots are referring to Lita / Makoto. However, if you look at Zoycite’s arc as a whole, it is also an excellent setup to the infamous “Disguise” episode...and I feel it is also a great representation of why DiC so desperately wanted to sow these character changes into Zoycite. For if they hadn’t, and Zoycite remained exactly as Zoisite in all manners except gender... how different would “she” be, a beautiful female soldier fighting for love, than another titular character we know?)

Anyways, I digress, and will return to the above bracketed point once we reach that particular episode. In the meantime, please enjoy the following comparisons remaining from the episode below...

1. Zoycite’s keenness, and further proof that DiC can’t stand empty sound space, even if it’s to imply a character’s softly - and ominous - coming).

2. I wish there was a way I could put audio clips in these tumblr posts, because I do love how both these characters are still portrayed with a sense of play...Zoycite’s acrid, saccharine poison, and Zoisite’s breathy, cotton-candy kiss of death.

3. If I could put in audio clips, this is where we would hear Zoycite’s syrup literally curdle - her voice rips into an edge of monstrous roughness, similar to other other monster-of-the-day characters that were also portrayed by the same actress. Meanwhile, Zoisite’s actor speaks with a softness of a snake beginning to gently suffocate you..

4. Goddamnit Zoi, you are so fucking cute, I will never get over how you call out your own name like you’re a fucking pokemon <3.

(Side Note: Zoisite’s use of his own name may seem vain, but I tend to read it less as a form of vanity, and more of a form of cute-speak. It’s yet another way he downplays the perception of his potential: to evoke the sense of adorableness, of femininity, a way to startle the opponent into a sense of lowered security. Honestly, I’m sure this isn’t so much of an actual farce he puts on and is genuinely how he expresses himself, both on the job and at home, but it works! Note that in the future, whenever Zoycite uses the same tactic, she never says it in the same, diminutive cute way. Her spell-cast is always aggressive, shouted in determination and confidence).

(Extra Side-Note: Another +1 for how many times Zoycite will say she is excited to please Queen Beryl. I’m keeping count for an explicit reason. Infer that what you will, and please imagine it with the same kind of “ding” that’s heard in CinemaSins.)

5. I mean, apart from the usual (Zoycite’s kneejerk reaction is to be antagonistic, while Zoisite is actually only politely informing Makoto that she does not have to engage, etc, ...he literally does not coax, mock or challenge. We will see later that Zoisite treats physical bloodshed and confrontation as unnecessary and only as a last resort, while Zoycite is spurred by challenges) - I also love how Zoycite’s dialogue also reflects this difference. I’ve talked at length at how Zoisite is always unfailingly and elegantly polite before, and now look at Zoycite’s speaking mannerisms: uncouth, aggressive, and filled to the brim with attitude when the opportunity arises. ‘SCUSE ME, indeed!

6.Further point regarding Zoycite and Zoisite’s divergent opinions of physical or violent confrontation: one disparages it, considering it barbaric, and that he is above it (often literally). The other laughs in the face of it, and has no qualms dishing it out as a threat...or is more than ready to follow it through.

(Also: buzz off omfg)

In fact, we see their opinions play out beautifully below:

7. After being punched, compare these reactions: one promising brutal threat, and the other fucking gobsmacked it even happened. Also, their differences in priorities.

While that may sound like I’m making a dig at Zoisite, I am legitimately not. I know this scene tends to be one of the ones that famously evoke the idea of Zoisite’s vanity, but I tend to read it another way. Yes, Zoisite’s face is precious to him, and yes, it could also be read as a stereotypical portrayal of a feminine gay character. 

However, this scene is not meant to illicit laughter. Nor it is not meant for us to startle with incredulity of how silly it is that he is upset his face his hurt. In this scene, Zoisite is truly shocked - his words are less an angry tantrum and more a statement of startled fact. He hadn’t anticipated Makoto could get that close to him, could actually touch him, much could actually strike him. And, in a place that is fiercely protective of, not because of his vanity...but because it is a precious commodity in the main force that drives his arc. (Yes, it’s Kunzite.) It’s no surprise that Zoisite’s beauty and “beautiful face” gets mentioned so often at key moments in his character development. His arc starts with a punch in the face, rises with gentle caresses, and - after a similar injury - crashes.

All of these subtleties, however, are swapped entirely in Zoycite’s case. Her face is not a fragile commodity by which she holds dear...in fact, it is of little importance to her. Her immediate concern is vengeance - more so than the injury on her face, it is her ego is bruised, and damn anyone who dares to make that mark.

Anyways, before I digress further, let’s round back up to the remainder of the episode. These last few scenes only continue to consistently show the differences in Zoycite’s and Zoisite’s professional approach. There isn’t as deep to note, with one exception at the very end...

8. If you haven’t already caught on, Zoycite really wants this fucking crystal.

9. Up above, DiC makes as much of an effort to showcase how much joy Zoycite derives from her job. Being a Negaverse warrior is an excellent honour - your true self - and boy, is she enjoying exerting her power over those below her. Zoycite’s ambition is demonstrated not as an ideal professional characteristic, but the potential in her to throw a coup if she wanted to. She is power hungry, and that grows recklessly to dangerous heights as her arc progresses. Notice that Zoisite says none of these things...because it isn’t power he seeks. He approaches his subject with almost professional indifference: he seeks no more than the objective of his task. And don’t worry, “it will only take a moment”.

10. This has always been one of my favourite scenes. I just love how Zoisite politely “nopes” out, while Zoycite - and I fully believe it - has a fucking victory celebration. (Don’t think for a moment Zoycite is just jesting, she probably told Malachite to set out the champagne before she left on the mission!)

And again, note the increased victorious laughter, where there was none before...

And FINALLY, the one ODD thing that happens a LOT throughout DiC’s version of this character arc. Remember how I mentioned in a previous instalment that DiC seemed to like to inject extra dialogue and laughs that could exposit Zoycite as a fundamentally meaner character than Zoisite?

Hey look, it happened again:

Like, this may not seem like much of a deal, but think about it. We had a scene earlier where Zoisite’s words basically remained the same in conversion (the “order” scene). We’ve had many instances where the original dialogue/script did not need to be changed, and yet was tweaked in just certain places. This seems like a wholly unnecessary change, so why do it?

The answer is: in changing Zoisite’s gender, DiC encountered a whole other problem. And that problem was: a female solider character, who’s primary motivation was love, a love that could be read as more complex, established, and equally both inspirational and problematic ...could end up becoming an unintentional role model for DiC’s demographic. Figuratively speaking, the tragedy by which we all love Kunzite and Zoisite’s humanity for carried a message that DiC feared might be misconstrued as another example of a miracle romance - because at that point, superficially, the character would no longer be any different than Sailor Moon. iIf Zoycite also fought for love, then her motivations would blow a hole right in the Power of Love message that DiC’s Sailor Moon stood for. And, if she was as dedicated to Malachite as Zoisite was to Kunzite - questionably so - it would also rip a massive hole in DiC’s message of Girl Power. 

I’ll talk more about this in greater detail as those essential scenes crop up throughout the arc. For the time being, let’s simply observe that for all the animosity Zoycite gets in the DiC version (even by other characters in the same universe), that Zoisite was never perceived in the same way, even by his enemies. And there’s a reason for that.

[chickensarentcheap]

Best Part of Me -Chapter 55

Warnings: none

Tagging: @c-a-v-a-l-r-y​, @innerpaperexpertcloud​, @alievans007​, @ocfairygodmother​

They arrive in Mumbai at three thirty in the morning. Checking into a hotel just on the outskirts of the city; a simple and unassuming place owned by an ‘informant’ of Anil’s. An inside man with access to both Mahajan and the higher ups temporarily in charge of running his business and carrying out his dirty work. While their true identities are known only to the owner and a handful of his most trusted staff, they register under the fake names given to them prior to boarding the plane. There is to be no trail leading back to them and who they really are; using cash only for all purchases, given different cell phones with unlisted and untraceable numbers to communicate amongst each other with, signing the passenger manifesto before the flight with entirely different monikers. Assured that everything during their stay will be kept low key to avoid any suspicion from ‘the wrong crowd’; two guards in casual clothing assigned to the lobby, monitoring everyone that comes through the front doors. Granted use of the establishment’s personal conference room for all planning and strategic meetings, and for Yaz to set up his command post.

Anil’s money and influence are quite prominent; his dealings and interactions with those he comes across are always friendly, but remaining professional. He’s well liked. Respected. And perhaps more than a little feared. A man that presents himself as calm and level headed but whose tone and facial expressions never leave a doubt that he’s not to be crossed. There’s an edge to him; a grittiness just under the businessman in designer clothes and linen suits and silk ties that suggests a tough and checkered past. Tyler has done his research; digging up some of the truth behind Anil’s departure from Special Forces. It isn't as cut and dry as he led them to believe; it isn’t just vengeance for his brother that saw him and the military parting ways.  Multiple complaints of ‘excessive force’ against apprehended criminals -most drug and human traffickers- leading to an honorary discharge and no access to a pension. He knows there’s more to it than that; through his own experience with the SASR  and the tales of others who’d served in various branches of the military world wide. Most war machines and police forces turns a blind eye to roughening up -and even killing- more hardcore offenders like child molesters, traffickers, and terrorists. But the further he dug into Anil’s past, the most questions he walked away with. His search for the full story only led to heavily guarded military pages that even all the tricks Yaz had taught him over the years couldn’t get past.

He doubts it’s anything serious or scandalous. His money on involvement in missions kept under the radar and out of public knowledge; most likely involving top officials in the Indian government. He’s worked a handful of those jobs himself; everything kept on the down low, his true name and identity kept a secret; nothing more than a ghost or an urban legend behind a high profile assassination.

The room is far more spacious and inviting than the bland and sparsely furnished front lobby. Two queen sized beds and a large walk in closet, burgundy walls adorned with paintings encased in thick, highly polished gold frames, natural wood furniture and a small table with two chairs nestled in the corner by the balcony doors. It’s twelve stories up and he pauses momentarily to look out at the city in the distance; brightly lit skyscrapers and the glow of random lights in apartment buildings, the flashing red of stop signs.  The last time he’d ventured to Mumbai, Millie had been just turned two and a half months old and they were a week and a half away from finding out they were having another baby; staying in Mahajan’s cold and pretentious mansion, discussing how they couldn’t -in good conscience- leave Ovi behind.  They couldn’t -and wouldn’t- allow him to be raised in such a sterile and unloving environment; no one to protect him from his father’s enemies, never feeling the touch of someone who truly cared for him. It was inhumane; expecting any human to live like that, never mind a scared and impressionable kid.

They hadn’t even had a home themselves.  A situation beyond their control making it impossible to return to that small, two bedroom apartment just outside of Sydney.  But they’d made the best of it, taking Ovi with them when they’d headed for Colorado with nothing more than the clothes on their backs and whatever money was in their bank account.  

For now, this is home; no telling just how long he’ll actually be there. All that really matters is that there’s a bed to sleep in and hot, running water, and a toilet that actually works. The rest is just window decoration; needless trimmings and frills that he’ll either never touch or even acknowledge. Living on the job is the best way to do things; no true comforts, nothing to distract you from the seriousness of the mission. And he thinks of Dhaka and how well things had done there, until they didn’t. That squalid hotel room with its dirty walls and cold water and view of the crowded and chaotic street. As desolate and dreary as it had been, for five days it seemed like a paradise. The outside world -and the job at hand- ceasing to exist the moment they locked themselves inside. It seems like forever ago. He’d been a different person then. So had she. Both fractured and damaged, bonding over their empty and meaningless lives.

He’s unsure if his exhaustion is mental or physical. Or if it’s perhaps a mix of both. But the five hours of restless and pain filled sleep he’d managed during the flight has done little to ease the head to toe weariness. Feeling as if his body is running on autopilot as he completes even the simplest of tasks; locking the door, toeing off his boots, placing his own stash of weapons and ammo and other tactical gear in the closet and securing them with a heavy chain and padlock. He feels  numb. Empty. As if the emotional well has been bled dry and there’s just nothing left to give. The Tyler that existed before he stepped onto the plant almost gone; replaced by a darker, more savage and vengeful version. His finger longing for a trigger to pull; that long simmering rage finally reaching its boiling point. It's all he DOES feel now; the desperate seeking of revenge and carrying it out through whatever means necessary.  Pushed to a near breaking point and determined into something useful; the feel of blood on his hands and the terrified, haunted look on another’s face as he stands over them and watches them die.

It should bother him. Wanting to kill. Enjoying the thought of it and knowing he’ll get satisfaction out of doing it. He’s never felt that before; a want and a need to take a life. Before killing had always been a means to an end; a way of securing his own survival. Now it’s a longing. A way of proving two things. That he’s more capable of chaos and violence than Mahajan ever expected, and that even a reformed and changed man will go to any length to protect what’s his.  

It’s justified. The things he needs to do. And it will be easy. He won’t have a guilty conscience. He’ll experience no shame. No regret. No remorse. He’ll feel nothing but relief and satisfaction. And IF he manages to survive, he’ll go on with his life; not once thinking back to things he’d been forced to do in Mumbai.

He checks the time on his phone before tossing it onto the nightstand between the beds. With the four and a half hour time difference between India and Australia, it’s peak insanity time for getting the kids ready and out the door in time for the school bus.  And just like that the feeling of emptiness...and nothingness...briefly lifts; a sudden tightening in his chest and throat and the bitter sting of tears. Actually missing -despite often grumbling about it- that morning routine; the race to get lunch pail paced and stuffed into backpacks, the madness that ensures when three kids all attempt to find missing shoes in the disaster that is the hall closet, often finishing Millie’s hair while standing in the driveway while the boys sit on the curb and watch YouTube videos on his phone. Those moments that most people would take for granted yet he always feels so lucky to even be experiencing. Almost seven years ago he’d been on the brink of death; only to be snatched back and given a second chance. To do something good with his life; one again be a husband and a father but this time get it right.  Experience the ‘boring’ and the ‘mundane’ instead of nothing but danger and self sacrifice. Instead of taking jobs and checking into cheap, shitty hotels, spending his night on the couch with his wife; suffering through her love of reality television while they eat ice cream straight out of the carton.

THAT was supposed to be his life. It’s what they had planned on when they decided to uproot the kids and move back to Australia. Be just another ordinary family; just a mom and ad raising five kids and enjoying their own slice of paradise after years of stress and worry and fear brought on by the job. And he thought he’d be happy with that LIKE that. But the past always finds a way to sneak up on you; reminds you why you’d ever got into it in the first place and convinces you that you aren’t complete without it. The adrenaline, the fast pace, the unpredictability. He’d somehow let himself fall prey to all of that. Once again going back on every goddamn promised he’d made; ruining every good intention he’d started out with.

If one thing has accompanied him to Mumbai, it’s the guilt. It’s deep and it’s painful and it makes him feel physically ill. That he would ever willingly get back into the game when he has so much to lose. The job is draining. Soul crushing. An unfair existence to spouses and children.  Yet he’d brought them into it. He’d gotten close enough to someone to trust them -with his life- and had fallen in love with them and had desperately hung on to her when everything should have been telling him to push her away.  And then he’d brought kids into it. Innocent little beings that are totally dependent on him for their survival and who would be the ones to suffer if anything happens to happen.

It WAS selfish; his reasonings behind not forcing her out of his life and back to Colorado. IT was the first time since Austin...since he’d made the terrible decision he had...that he felt alive again. That he actually allowed himself to feel. Finding someone that was equally as broken and damaged; connecting with them through their experiences with the job and their tortured pasts and horrendous life choices. He hadn’t wanted to lose that. He hadn’t wanted to lose HER. Even though it should have been painfully clear that her life would have turned out so much better without him in it.

He forces those thoughts out of his mind. Concentrating instead on the pain inhabiting his body and the need for a hot shower. Maybe even something to eat. It’s been close to twenty hours since he last ate, and he can feel the pang of hunger that accompanies the guilt and regret and gnaws at his stomach.  And he strips off his clothes as he heads for the bathroom. Letting them fall where they may, planning to gather them later; wincing at the agony that accompanies even the simple task of removing his shirt.

Like the sleeping quarters, the bathroom is spacious; clean and modern with its subway tiles and infinity tub and a glass enclosed shower. And the water is hot...almost punishing...when he stands underneath it; pressure pounding and stinging. A form of self flagellation; punishing himself for both the selfish choice he’d made almost seven years ago and for feeling that way in the first place. Eyes closed, chin dropped to his chest and his palms flat against the tiles. Losing the battle against the threatening tears; allowing them to trickle freely down his cheeks and the sides of his nose, the droplets mixing with the soapy water that gathers at his first before swirling down the drain. It’s the first and only time he’ll let this happen; the open expression of emotion, the loss of control.  It can’t happen again. Not on this job. He can’t allow it to. Not when there’s so much to lose.

His body is still damp damp and a towel is wrapped tightly around his waist when the confusion first hits. Distinctly remembering where he’d dropped each item of clothing on his journey to the bathroom; shirt having been the last item abandoned, left just on the threshold.  Yet it’s no longer there. The door is cracked open to allow some of the steam to escape, and he can hear the sound of the tv -a laugh track for some shitty sitcom- drifting through the suite.  He knows for a fact that he didn’t turn it on. And that he’d shut the bathroom door long before stepping into the shower. It isn’t a threat; no one is going to break into his room and gather up his dirty clothes and watch some television before attempting to kill him. Yet he still moves cautiously towards the door; years of being in a job where you have to expect the unexpected.  Bare feet quiet against the tiles and then the dark, plush carpet. A scowl spreading across his face when he rounds the corner of the wall that separates the sleeping area from the bathroom and finds Koen sprawled out in the middle of the spare bed; clad in just a pair of boxers, hands behind his head as he watches tv.

“Just what in the fuck are you doing?” Tyler asks.

Koen nods towards the television as a form of response.

“Why are you doing it here and not in your own room?”

“Figured you wouldn’t mind having a roomie.”

“Actually, I do mind. So…”

“I picked up after your lazy ass. Were you born in a barn? Or are you just too used to someone picking up after you?”

“Why are you here? And how the hell did you get in here?”

“Front desk gave me the spare key card. Everyone is bunkin’ together; I thought why not the two of us?”

“Have you ever thought I like being alone?”

“You spent way too many years being alone and miserable,” Koen reasons. “Now I know I ain’t as pretty as who you’re used to sharing a room with, but…” he looks up at Tyler limps past him. “...well holy shit…” he drawls, and issues a low whistle. “...I think I’m questioning my sexuality.”

Tyler doesn’t respond; dropping down onto the edge of the bed closest to the window and digging through the old army rucksack for a pair of sweats.

“I could tell you had a pretty good rig under all those clothes, but I didn’t think you looked like THAT. Now I see why she doesn’t leave you. Or is the real reason she doesn’t under the towel?”

Tyler smirks, then shoves his legs into the sweats, towel still around his waist when he stands and pulls them on the rest of the way.

“Don’t be shy on my account. Be proud of what the good Lord gave you. Must be something extra special if your ugly mug manages to keep such a good woman around. Ain’t you ever worried about breaking a tiny little thing like her in half?”

“Fuck off,” Tyler grumbles, then yanks the damp towel from around his waist and tosses it at his friend.

“Humble, are we? I already know what it looks like, remember? How many times did we have to piss standing next to each other when we were in Kandahar?   I’d be lying if I said I wasn't a bit jealous. Still don’t understand how you don’t hurt her, though.”

“I’m not discussing my sex life with you.”

“Never shied away from it before. Used to tell Rata and I all about your lady ‘friends’ stashed all over the world.”

“Yeah? Well I’m not that guy anymore, am I. And this isn’t just some piece of ass. This is my wife. So if you don’t mind…”

“Easy, tiger, easy. I know how defensive you get when it comes to her. And I don’t blame you; I don’t hold the overprotectiveness thing against you. I mean she’s cute, she’s tiny, you’ve almost lost her a couple times already…”

“Thanks for reminding me for that,” Tyler snarls, snagging his phone off the nightstand. “As if I haven’t been thinking about that every second of every fucking day since this Mahajan shit started.”

“...but she’s a grown woman with children and she knows how to take care of herself.” Koen finishes. “Ever think of easing up on her a bit?”

“You ever think of fucking off?”

“All I'm saying is that you don’t need to worry about her so much. She’s more than capable of handling things; taking care of herself and those littles.”

“Not against someone like Mahajan she’s not. And why are you even here? I don’t need company.”

“Hell you don’t. You gonna call home? She’s probably worried about you.”

“Get off my ass and go back to your own room.”

Koen ignores him. “You know this place has twenty four hour room service? We’re a far cry from eating army rations, ain’t we? I took the liberty of ordering both of us a little something. They didn’t have vegemite for your steak,though. What kind of savage bastard does that to a steak?”

“The kind of savage bastard that might kill in your sleep if you don’t fuck off and leave him alone.”

“Nope. Can’t do it. You’re stuck with me. No getting rid of me. Unless you DO kill me.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

“Call home. I know you’re missing her. It’s  okay to admit that; that you need to hear her voice. You’re a lucky bastard that you have a voice to call and help ground you. Don’t take shit like that for granted. Treat her right. ‘Cause there’s probably a lot of guys willing to take your place on her dance card.”

“How about you leave giving relationship advice to someone who is actually in a relationship?” Tyler retorts.

Koen smirks, then gives him the finger before he slides open the balcony door and steps outside.

****

“Job Tyler” is quick to assess his surroundings; considering what could go wrong and how he’d carry it off if he was the one targeting someone. If Mahajan’s people have been tipped off that he’s in Mumbai and they’re either keeping an eye on him or have been sent to take him out, the only way they could achieve it is from the apartment building to the right. It’s nothing but one story single family homes and empty lots in the other directions, and with  his room being on the twelfth floor, there is no possible way even the best of snipers could manage a decent shot from that angle and distance. So instead of standing at the railing and possibly giving someone a chance at him, he stays behind the cement partition that separates his balcony from the one belonging to the room next door.

What a fucking way to live.

It’s nine in the morning in Australia; the kids will have already arrived at school leaving her with just Declan and Addie. It’s easier this way; not calling when the three oldest are around. It will only make things harder on them. And him.

She answers on the third thing; both dogs barking in the background, along with the faint sound of waves.

“Hey,” Esme greets, and her surprisingly cheerful voice brings a smile to his face. “I was wondering if you’d fallen asleep on me,”

“I wanted to wait until the kids were at school. Didn’t want to make things harder on them. They’re okay?”

“Better than they usually are when you leave. Millie and TJ are all about going on a trip and seeing where Ovi came from. Tanner…well you know Tanner...he’s so intuitive and so sensitive and he’s become so close to you since New Zealand. He’s having a hard time. But I knew he would. He’s so much like you. More than anyone...even you...realizes. He feels so deeply and so powerfully.”

“He’ll be alright.” Tyler assures her. “He’s got a pretty amazing mom loving on him.”

“I don't know how amazing she is. She puts herself at mediocre.”

“Well tell her she’s delusional and she’s a fucking rock star and her husband worships the ground she walks on.”

“Her husband sounds like a very smart man.”

He grins. “He has his moments. You okay? What’re you doing?”

“Declan and I are down at the water with Saju and Mac. Kyle’s in the house with Addie. I’m okay, I guess. I’ve been better. I feel...I don’t know...like I’m in some kind of daze or a fog. Like I’m just going through the motions. Know what I mean?”

“Yeah, I know exactly what you mean. But are you? Okay?”

“Not really,” she admits. “It’s real now. Not something we just talk about or plan. It’s so real and I’m worried and I’m scared and I’m trying so hard not to be. And I miss you. Already.”

“I miss you, too. So much.”

“You usually wait a couple days before admitting it,” Esme teases, and he can’t help but smile.

“Well I’ve gotten used to being around you all the time. Six months of just being about you and my kids. Hits a little deeper now. A little harder. Being away from home.”

“I’d gotten used to you being around all the time, too. I know sometimes I bitched about it, but I really DID like it; having you here THAT much. And I like my brother, don’t get me wrong, and he’s a huge help, but he’s not you. It was weird waking up and you not being there. I’ve been spoiled, I guess. I took it...you…for granted. I hate myself for that.”

“Don’t, baby. Don’t ever feel like that. We’ve both done it. Not just you.”

“I did wake up to four little ones in the bed, though. I don’t know how they take up so much damn room. And Declan is freaking tall and so heavy!”

“Kid’s a tank. Gonna be six seven and weight three pounds and be solid as fuck.”

“Even with the red hair, he looks more like you every day. You have some seriously strong genes, Tyler Rake. Are you okay?”

“I’m okay.”

“Are you really okay? Or…?”

“I’m okay now,” he says. “Now that I’m talking to you.  I needed to hear your voice.”

“And you say you’re not sappy,” Esme chides. “There’s a lot of people here. That Anil has sent. It’s making me even MORE nervous. And they’re not subtle. They're armed. Heavily. And they’re not making an attempt to hide it.”

“How many?”

“A dozen so far. There’s two of them watching Declan and I right now. We DON’T need this. This isn’t helping.”

“Better to be safe than sorry,” Tyler reasons.

“Our kids aren’t stupid. They notice everything. And they’re going to notice them and they’re going to start asking questions and they’re going to get scared. Can’t you get them to scale it back? Just a little? I don’t want the kids stressed out. I’m stressed out enough for all of us.”

“I’ll talk to Anil,” he says. “See if he’ll tone things down.”

“The kids do not need to know what’s going on. You know what Millie gets like when she thinks too much about you going after bad guys. She gets anxious and panics and then we’ll have a six year old that will start sucking her thumb and wetting the bed again.”

“I’ll talk to him. You’re right; there’s no need for all of that.”

“Do you think something’s happened?” she asks. “That maybe the threats have gotten worse? Or maybe Mahajan’s people are on the move?”

“What I think is that you need to NOT think so much. I’ll take care of it. And you guys are leaving tomorrow, so…”

“I wish you could be there,” she sighs. “When we arrive.”

“So do I, baby. Nothing I wouldn’t give to be there. But…”

“I know. I know it’s not safe. It’s just me being selfish and wanting to see you. It must be really late. Or really early.”

“Almost five.”

“You should rest. You sound tired.”

“I am,” Tyler admits. “I’m going to have something to eat and then try and sleep. There’s nothing to do until early afternoon. Just a team meeting to go over shit. I’ll call later. After dinner, your time. So I can talk to the kids.”

“Okay. Take care of yourself, please.  You NEED to.”

“I know. I’ll talk to you later. Give Declan and the baby a hug and a kiss from me. Tell them I love them.”

“I will. We love you. Your little peanut misses you most of all, I think. She wouldn’t settle for her feed this morning until I wrapped her in one of your t-shirts from the dirty laundry basket.”

Tears prick his eyes, but he manages to hold them back. “Why would you do that to my little peanut?” he teases. “Traumatize her like that? That thing probably stinks.”

“It smells like you. And that’s the best smell in the world. I miss you. So much. And I can’t wait to see you. I hope it’s sooner rather than later."

“I hope so, too. I miss you. I love you.”

“I love you too, Tyler. Take that with you, okay? Wherever you go, whatever you get mixed up in.”

“I will,” he promises. “Talk later.”

“Be safe. Please. Be smart. You’ve got this. I know you do. You’re strong and you’re tough and nothing Mahajan throws at you is too much.”

“You’re good for my ego, you know that?”

“I’m in your corner. No matter what. We’ll talk soon,”

“We will,” he confirms, then waits for her to disconnect the call before hanging up himself.

****

“Well?” Koen asks when he steps back into the room. “Everything good on the home front’?”

“Best it can be, I guess.”

“Felt good, didn't it? Being able to talk to her. Hearing her voice like that?”

Tyler smirks, dropping his cell onto the bedside table.  “When the fuck did you get so sappy?”

“There was a time where I did love all my ex wives, you know. When I liked hearing their voices. Now all I feel is a cold chill if I hear even the slightest peep from those three hens. Nice seeing you this way. All head over heels, a fool in love for someone. Considering I know what you were like when you were with Sarah. Back when you THOUGHT you were in love.”

“Do we have to talk about her? Nothing good ever comes from talking about her.” He stretches out in the middle of the bed, pillows behind his back as he leans against the headboard. “When is the food showing up? I’m fucking starvin’.”

“Soon. And all I’m saying is that there’s a huge difference between the guy you were with Sarah and the guy you are with Esme. Back then, you thought you were in love. Now you really are. It’s written all over your damn face. Every time you look at her, it’s right there. How you feel. And you can’t tell me you don’t see the difference. FEEL the difference. Between the two.”

“Of course I do. It’s night and day.”

“You two are still so loved up on each other. I know I complain that it’s nauseating and annoying, but it’s actually really nice. Seeing you like that. Loving someone; them loving you. You deserved it. Finding that. Finding HER. It’s changed you. SHE’S changed you.”

“For good or…?”

“Of course for good, don’t be a dumb ass. She’s the best damn thing that’s ever happened to you.  Her and those kids. She made you a daddy again. You ask me, she deserves you worshipping the ground she walks on. And you’re a good daddy. A damn good one.”

“I’m just doing whatever I can do to make up for the shitty I mess I made the first time around.”

Koen frowns. “Don’t do that, mate. Don’t compare those kids to what you lost. They’re not a replacement for Austin. Don’t talk like they are. And don’t treat them like they are. They deserve better than that. You did a crappy thing; we all do crappy things. But that’s a long time ago and you’re a different man now and them kids aren’t holding the past against you. You’re doing that all on your own. You have this uncanny ability to fuck your life up without even trying. Those kids don’t care who you were back then. Just who you are now.”

Tyler sighs. “You talk a lot of shit, you know that?”

“I’m talking the truth.  You just hate hearing it for some reason. You hate when other peoples’ narratives don’t match your own. When they don’t see you as the shitty human you see yourself as. Knock that shit off. You’re better than you think.”

“Maybe,” Tyler agrees. “Maybe I am. But sometimes I wonder if I did the right thing. If I should have forced her to leave; when I woke up after Dhaka. If I should have found a way to get her to take off.”

Koen scowls. “You’re taking shit and you know it.”

“I was selfish. I wanted her to stay. I liked the way she made me feel. Not just the sex part of things. I mean everything. I liked having her around. I liked hearing her voice and seeing her smile. I liked how she looked at me. She didn’t look at me with pity or disgust. She looked at me like I was worth something. Like I wasn’t just a big fucking mess.”

“She saw the potential.” Koen reasons. “We all saw it. Just took her to get out of you.”

“But I kept her there for me. I didn’t think about what it would do to her; being mixed up with someone like me. And I should have. I should realized I’d only make her life a big fucking mess.”

“If she wanted to leave, she would have. You didn’t force her to stay.”

“I didn’t make her leave, either. And I should have. Especially after she found out about the baby.”

Koen’s eyes narrow. “What the fuck you going on about?”

“She would have been better going back to the States and having the baby on her own and  never bothering with me again.”

“That’s horseshit and you know it! You really think you could have lived like that? Knowing you had a kid out there? Yet never knowing if it was a boy or a girl or even their name or what they looked like? You wouldn’t have been able to live like that; knowing you had blood out there So quit talking crazy. Look at that little girl. Think about her. How much she loves her daddy.”

“I’m a selfish fuck,” Tyler insists. “For getting married. Having kids. Dragging them all into this.”

“You didn’t drag anyone into anything,” Koen argues.  “Esme stayed. She chose to be with you. And no matter what you could have said or done to push her away, it wouldn’t have worked. Her mind was made up. She wanted to be with you. For some fucking reason,”

“She deserves better than this. So do those kids.”

“Those kids wouldn’t even exist without you! They’re just as much yours as they are hers. You know what they deserve? They deserve to be on this earth.  They have a mom and a dad that love them. That take damn good care of them. You know what’s selfish?  You thinking FOR them. You’re their daddy. And you sit here talking about them like they’re mistakes?”

“I never said that.”

“You might as fucking well! You deserve a normal life. A wife and kids. People that love you no matter how big of a mess you think you are! And you know what? Fuck you for questioning that. Questioning their existence!”

“I never…”

“You’re the luckiest fucker I know,” Koen continues his rant. “I’ve seen you at your lowest. I’ve seen you in the gutter, practically. And this beautiful, selfless woman comes along and gives everything of herself to you. Gave up her old life to have a new one with you. And that’s how you think of her? Just to hell with the last seven years? To hell with five kids? All you think is ‘I should have pushed her away’? That’s what she gets after everything she’s done for you? Fuck you, mate. Guys would kill for what you have. Stop looking at what’s wrong and look at what’s right! You have a great life. That you deserve. So get your head out of your ass and appreciate it before someone comes along and does it for you. Yeah, you're a selfish prick, alright. Not even thinking about what pushing her away would have done to her and the baby she had in her belly. How none of those kids would even exist. THAT makes you a selfish prick.”

Silence descends on the room; Koen’s harsh words and accusations hanging heavily in the air. He’s right, of course. Even if Tyler hates to admit it, even to himself. Had he pushed her away, he would have spent the rest of his life drinking himself stupid and dwelling on what could have been and thoughts of what his kid turned out to be; what they looked like or what their name was. Did Esme give them his last name or did she just go with her? Was she with anyone? Did she ever think about him and those five days in Dhaka or did she hate him enough to never think of it...or him...again?

How would her life have turned out? Who would she have  ended  up with? Would she have been happy? Or would part of her always be back in Australia? His child serving as a bond that would always keep them connected. Millie would exist,but none of the others would. No TJ with his fiery temper but a propensity to love with his entire heart and soul. No Tanner with his dad’s old haircut and his huge emotions and his sensitive, old soul. No Declan with his red hair and his strong, solid build, so affectionate and loving. No Addie; impossibly tiny with a headful of dark hair and those enormous dark eyes. And that’s a reality he’d never want to face; a life without any of his kids.

“You love her, yeah?” Koen speaks up.

“Of course I do. With everything I am. Everything I have. What..?”

“You love her and that’s enough for her. And she loves you. Or she wouldn’t have stuck around after Dhaka or after any of the shitty times. She’s given herself willingly to you. Given you five kids and a damn good life. Don’t ever talk about her or those kids like that again, or  I WILL beat you ass. Understand me?”

Tyler nods.

“No that we’ve got all that worked out,” Koen sighs. “Food’s gonna be here soon. You gonna eat?”

“I could definitely eat.”

“Gotta take care of yourself. You’re no good to anyone if you don’t. What do you wanna watch?” He gestures towards the tv with the remote. “Probably got some good adult channels on here.”

Tyler smirks. “I am not watching pron with you in the room.”

“I ain’t gonna like while you’re jerking off if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“You’ve got issues, mate. Why are you so obsessed with my dick?”

“Gotta be a reason she sticks around, I figure. I’m just trying to piece together what it is. Something’s keeping her happy. Unless…” Koen’s eyes narrow. “...you’re a giver and not a taker, aren’t ya. You’re going above and beyond down yonder to get your woman happy.”

“I already told you; I’m not talking about my sex life with you.”

“That’s it, isn’t it. You’re spoiling her THAT way.”

“My wife has no complaints. I’ll leave it at that.”

“Atta boy! You’ve your priorities straight! You must be something right; she sticks around.”

“Have you ever thought maybe she just loves me? That’s all it is?”

“No doubt in my mind she does. But I’m proud of you; doing what it takes to make her happy. She reciprocating or..”

“Mate, we are not having this conversation.”

“Just give me a sign that she is. Some kind of hint. Give me a thumbs up if she’s doing her bit, too.”

Tyler smirks, then gives two thumbs up.

“You fucking bastard!” Koen snarls. “I don’t know whether to be jealous or you or hate you right now. Maybe a bit of both. No wonder you always got that goofy grin on your face whenever you’re around her. You’re getting yourself some. On a regular basis.”

“Probably get more in one week than you get in six months.”

“Now THAT’S harsh.”

Another silence descends on the room. This time far more comfortable. And Tyler lays his head back against the pillow behind him and closes his eyes. He feels better now. Slightly, at least. Koen’s tough love and hearing his wife’s voice and picturing her down at the water-with the sun capturing the natural red highlights in her dark tresses and that little burn she always gets on her nose and under her eyes- doing wonders to alleviate the guilt and regret. Loosening some of that tightness around his heart.

“You’ve got a good thing,” Koen says. “A good life. Don’t fuck it up.”

“I won’t,” Tyler vows.

But the confidence is lacking. It isn’t himself he doesn’t trust. He has the skills and the strength to complete the tasks at hand; his instincts and abilities strong. HE isn’t the problem. It’s everything...everyone...else around him. There’s no control over the situation . He’s at the mercy of his environment; unfamiliar surroundings working as a weakness. His kryptonite.

Mahajan holds all the cards. And it’s time to take them away.

[brialavellan]

It has been 20 years since Inquisitor ‘Manehn Lavellan defeated Corypheus, and 18 years since the Exalted Council. Solas is furthering his plans and so far, all efforts to stop him seem to be in vain….until the Well of Sorrows begins to speak to ‘Manehn once more. Led by ancient magics and beset by enemies from Ferelden and Orlais to Antiva and Tevinter, ‘Manehn must gather allies old and new in a race against time to defeat Solas - at any cost.

(NOW ON AO3)

Chapter 1 ||  Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 || Chapter 7

CH 8: Dalish Pariah

Since ‘Manehn and Davhalla had stepped into the eluvian on Sundermount, they had wandered aimlessly for what had seemed like eternity, though no time had actually passed. 

Time flows differently in the Fade. Time in the permanent world is linear, static, unchanging. The Fade is fluid, always changing. There is no past or future, there is here and not. It is a concept only Dreamer mages like Davhalla, Mirwen and Solas could truly grasp. The link to the Fade was too strong to ignore it, and if Dreamers like them did not learn to know the Fade as intimately as they knew themselves, they would have long been consumed, stolen by a distorted spirit itching for a taste of the static world. 

“We’re lost,” Davhalla finally said, her fingers thrumming against her sides as a sign of her twitching nerves.

“Davhalla -”

“Well, what would you call wandering about these Fade-like spaces without direction or without an end in sight?” Davhalla said. “It was foolish. I should not have done something so reckless,” she said, furrowing her brow and sweeping her locs from her broad face. 

“Like leaving your position as Keeper?” ‘Manehn unhelpfully added. 

“I would not be so flippant to speak of abandonment,” Davhalla said, in a defensive tone. “Many in our clan believe you abandoned us long ago…”

“I have done no such thing!” ‘Manehn snapped, stopping in her tracks, her hand balled into a tight fist that drained the color from her fingers. “Everything I have tried to do was for my people! I do not need to hear -”

“What your people think?” Davhalla said, “How can you win the war if you have not won your peoples’ hearts? Why do you think so many of our people rushed to Fen’harel’s side? His ambitions seem greater and his promises do not seem so empty.”

Davhalla softened her tone and gently clasped ‘Manehn’s shoulder. “I apologize. I did not mean to twist that against you,” she said, sorrowful, “I am stating what is whispered around the campfires and at the gatherings of clans. I know I did not, and neither did you - no matter how others perceive it.”

“I know quite well what people think,” ‘Manehn sighed as anger and pain and regret and bitterness roiled within her. She normally would have been livid with Davhalla. She was with anyone who dared question her dedication, cutting them down with biting remarks while forcefully recounting everything she had done not just for the elves, but for all of Thedas. But the kernels of truth within Davhalla’s words hurt more and, even worse, they frightened her. Years had passed. Decades. Solas had infinite patience and infinite time. ‘Manehn was wearing thin on both. She could no longer rely on past triumphs to silence her present critics.

A sad but tense silence passed between them as ‘Manehn and Davhalla surveyed their surroundings. The air hummed with magic like a singer with a tune on her lips, beckoning them forward down paths of dazzling light and color even though they still had no idea where they had come from or where they were headed. Even now, both of them could not help but marvel at the sight, which felt homey and inviting and filled with as much warmth as sorrow, for both of their hearts panged as they realized this was yet another marvel the elves had lost. 

An interruption of shouting and the clink of armor and blades drew them back to reality. Five elves rushed towards them, blades and teeth bared. ‘Manehn and Davhalla had barely readied their weapons when they both felt a sudden searing heat near them. 

“Stay next to me!” Davhalla yelled as she threw up a barrier. A wall of flame rushed towards them, immolating the elves, turning their screams of bloodthirsty rage into screams of unbearable pain. As the last ones fell, bodies ash-blackened, a figure strided towards them, carefully maneuvering around the bodies. 

She was tall and pale, with angular features, a strong square jaw and a fiendish gleam in her piercing yellow eyes. Long jet back hair cascaded behind a crown of dragon’s horns that gave her a menacing aura. She pointed her staff, adorned with a ram’s head, at both of them.

“You are not lost,” She said in a cool tone. “You are just refusing to be guided.”

‘Manehn put her hand on the hilt of her dagger and Davhalla readied her staff.

“Doesn’t sound like much of a difference,” Davhalla said.

“And I wouldn’t exactly take guidance from a complete stranger,” ‘Manehn added.

Davhalla leaned into ‘Manehn and whispered. “Not a stranger. I know what she is. She is a Witch of the Wilds. I would not trust her.” 

“My name is Yavana, young ones, and I expected you,” she said in a smoky voice, with the briefest glance at ‘Manehn’s grip on her dagger, which had grown tighter. “The Well of Sorrows led me to you as you were led to me, to play our part.” 

Davhalla was raised on tales of Flemeth’s daughters, as all elves were. Though she knew it to be a childish impulse, she could not help but fear her, if only because she could sense the immense power that Yavana wielded. 

“And what is your part, exactly?” ‘Manehn asked with a snarl, pointing her dagger at Yavana's chest.

“The same as yours," Yavana said nonchalantly, as if explaining the simplest concept to the most stubborn child. "To restore what was before. To protect what fools would destroy. To avenge what was lost.” 

“I am merely here to aid you, not fight you.” Yavana added, “I have a purpose, as do you. Mythal compels you to fulfill your part, as I fulfill mine. And should you try to end me as others before me….” she flashed a wicked grin, “know you will not succeed. Kings and peasants alike have tried.”

“I don’t know,” ‘Manehn retorted, “Corypheus thought the same of me.” Unlike Davhalla, her fear merely did little more than feed her anger at this interloper.

“A grasping pretender is nothing compared to whom you face now.” Yavana’s eyes narrowed. “You have been given a great gift, to be the Vessel of Mythal, to be her beacon, her champion. Her will works through you.”

She came closer to ‘Manehn and surveyed her, slightly bemused at this brash elf. ‘Manehn glared back at her, her dagger still pointed at Yavana.

“You have not embraced what you were given. Hopefully you will learn after what comes next.”

“And what does come next, witch?” Davhalla said with a condescending sneer.

‘Manehn hesitated for a while, her temper cooling as she evaluated the situation they were in. They were lost. This strange woman was offering...something. And she had just killed a bunch of elves who were ready to antagonize them. She was not a friend, but she was being friendly enough. Still suspicious yet compelled, ‘Manehn sheathed her dagger and turned to Davhalla.

Yavana stared at both of them with an almost bored expression. 

“We might as well follow her, unless you want to keep wandering around ‘refusing to be guided’,” she whispered to Davhalla with air quotes and a sarcastic tone. Davhalla lowered her staff and merely sighed, saying “I just hope this doesn’t end with our deaths.”

"You are smarter than you look," Yavana said as she turned her back and began to walk away from them towards a crossroads. She stopped after some distance and called to them. "Do you wish to follow, or would you prefer to stay here forever?"

"You don't want to miss your meeting, after all,"  she added, as she bade them to follow. 

'Manehn and Davhalla studied the strange woman who strolled along the paths in front of them with inhuman ease.��All humans, when they entered these in-between spaces, found the footsteps grew leadan and legs weary, struggling to keep up with elven companions. Both were equally curious as to how she even managed to not merely keep up, but outpace them.

Yavana would occasionally glance back with an almost amused expression and 'Manehn's eyes would narrow every time she looked back. If she had learned anything at all from Morrigan, whom she strongly resembled, it was that any alliance, boon, or favor from someone like her was a demon's bargain. 

She would not find out until much later how high the price was that she had chosen to pay.

In between her speculations and suspicions of Yavana's intentions, ‘Manehn’s thoughts returned to those she had left behind, thoughts that she had reserved only in her times of greatest distress, the worries that came to her when she feared that her current moments were her final ones. Thoughts of her mother, sister and clan, now a wisp of memory she could almost never recapture. Thoughts of her friends and her daughter, those she loved most, who kept her from succumbing to the darkest corners of the darkest thoughts that came to her in her loneliest moments. She wasn't sure this was her last moment alive, but she also wasn't sure she wasn't making a grave mistake.

Davhalla's thoughts were focused elsewhere, on the strange witch who guided them. She noticed Yavana sauntered forward with an easy confidence but Davhalla sensed a secret within her. Whatever Yavana spoke of, she spoke of not as an agent freely acting within their will, but as a servant humbly obeying the wishes of a great master. 'Manehn had revealed Flemeth's true nature, and the nature of her daughters, these Witches of the Wilds, to her before. If Flemeth was Mythal, then why did she work through human daughters? Davhalla's fear grew with every step forward. This was not the will of Mythal the gentle Mother. What Yavana spoke of was a great vengeance that would shake their foundations. Either way, she thought, Thedas would quake under the power of a Creator. She just couldn't decide if it was Fen'harel's remaking or Mythal's reckoning she should fear more.

The twisting paths Yavana had guided them along stopped at a deactivated, darkened eluvian. With a wave of her hand and a mumble under her breath, the eluvian sprang to life, the silver sheen of the glass surface warping and whirling. Davhalla and 'Manehn almost audibly gasped and shared a weak laughter between them. She had actually guided them out. This wasn't a trap. Yet.

“Go ahead and meet your elf,” Yavana said as she began to walk away. “I will be waiting.”

“Great,” ‘Manehn said sarcastically, meeting her eyes with one last glare as she and Davhalla stepped into the eluvian.

————————

In the Brecilian Forest, as sunlight peeked through the canopy of trees that covered an ancient Tevinter ruin, a small elf with short black hair and large forlorn green eyes dressed in a First’s robes sat in front of an eluvian, muttering to herself with while leafing through a large brown leather book. 

The eluvian was a miraculous find, she mused, since the only other one she had found in this forest was nothing but a shattered frame sitting in her hovel in Kirkwall’s alienage. She would never get rid of it. It still had a use, though shattered beyond repair. It was a memorial to Tamlen and Naira. A reminder of mistakes that she, and those she loved, had made. And most importantly, it was motivation to finish what she had started. 

When she heard the news that Fen’harel had risen, had revealed himself, and was now walking the mortal world with a promise to remake the world to his whims, she felt not just fear and anger but vindication. She had doubted herself for so long. But protecting the people, all of her people, from the Dread Wolf was what she had been born and groomed to do. Even if she failed, even if she perished, she thought, she would try to do something, no matter how small. 

She was too lost in thought, and in her notes, to notice the small hum that began to emanate from the eluvian that stood behind her. Not until the hum grew louder and she felt the blast of magic behind her as two figures tumbled out behind her.

She tossed the book aside, leapt to her feet and grabbed her staff from the ground, pointing it at the two interlopers.

“Tell me who you are,” she said, trying her best to sound intimidating, “how did you - !”, 

She lowered her staff and she surveyed their faces, trying and failing to hide her shock. Both of them were marked with vallaslin, the marks of Elgar’nan and June. They were her People. More importantly, she knew them enough to know they were friends. 

Well, friend might be a strong word for the Inquisitor, she thought. Maybe she should say ‘ally’ or ‘enemy of Fen’harel’ instead. 

“Keeper Davhalla! And the Inquisitor?!” she said, helping them both to their feet, “Anetha ara, Keeper, I thought you were still with your clan.”

“I was,” Davhalla said. “But this fight needs me more than the clan does. And it needs you too, Merrill. Why did you leave Kirkwall so suddenly?”

“I’ve had too much to do here!” Merrill protested, “I’ve gotten myself in far too much trouble chasing history before but -” 

Merrill paused and took a deep breath. 

“But when I found out about the eluvians and Fen’harel, I had to come back to do something, of course,” she said, twisting her fingers, “Protecting the People from the Dread Wolf is a Keeper’s place. You know that, of course and well, I’m not a Keeper - I would have been terrible at it - but you understand. But I know it wouldn’t hurt for me to try again. At least, I don’t think so. But maybe I could -” 

Before either of them could interrupt her, Merrill’s voice trailed off as she walked past them towards the eluvian. She placed her hand against the mirror and closed her eyes, sensing the magic that still lingered.

‘Manehn and Davhalla’s eyes darted towards the collapsed stone walls when they heard a rustle in the vegetation. Both readied their weapons...and relaxed them while a deer bounded across, turned and walked away.

‘Manehn and Davhalla looked at each other with amusement, and Merrill ignored them both, until ‘Manehn heard the whistle of arrows.

“Barrier!” she screamed at Davhalla as she backed towards the eluvian. Davhalla readied her staff and erected a barrier seconds before the volley of arrows came down, bouncing off the erected wall of force magic.

Four elves jumped from the walls and barreled towards them, while another six elves perched on a collapsed pillar high above them readied another volley.

“Dread Wolf take you all!” they heard Merrill shout behind them as a stonefist flew between them and crashed into the pillar, knocking several of the elves to the ground. ‘Manehn unsheathed both her blades and lunged forward as the elves drew near the barrier, whirling fast as she cut into two of them. She turned and barely dodged a heavy hammer’s blow. 

“They seem awfully cross!” Merrill yelled at both of them.

“Ya think?!” ‘Manehn yelled back as she lunged forward to parry another blow. Davhalla held steady but muttered a few words. ‘Manehn felt a new, cleansing power surge within her and felt her feet lighten and her blows land faster. 

Merrill hurriedly drew a dagger and cut her arm. The small streams of blood began to levitate and surround her within a sinister aura. The rest of the archers and the fighters dropped their weapons and shrieked as their blood began to boil and their limbs twisted under Merrill’s control. They turned bright red and crumpled to the ground, gruesomely bloated and limbs twisted.

Davhalla lowered her barrier and shot Merrill a withering glare. Merrill pretended not to notice, calmly sheathing her blade and avoiding Davhalla’s gaze. ‘Manehn looked at macabre display of men, unsettled yet unwilling to contend against magic that, at this moment at least, had saved their skins. 

“I don’t know why I keep getting attacked,” Merrill said, “I don’t think I’ve done much of anything, really. I’ve only helped the elves in the Alienage and then all of a sudden, I’ve got intruders trying to set me on fire and -”

“He thinks you’re a threat and that’s enough for him.” ‘Manehn said, “You must know enough to be dangerous.”

“Well, I guess I do know things. About the eluvians, I mean. I spent 7 years working on restoring one. You don’t learn how to do that without picking up a thing or two,” she said, scratching her head. “I felt the power when it opened, and I can feel the power behind it even with it closed, just like the eluvian I worked on. I’m still stuck on how you open it.”

“A witch said some magic words and it opened. These eluvians need passphrases,” ‘Manehn said as she sheathed her daggers .

“An incantation...” Merrill said, eyes widening. “Just a simple spell! Really, was that all I needed this whole time? Elgar’nan, but how did I not figure that out before! I guess the spirit could have told me but....” her voice trailed off as a profound sadness began to grip her but she shook her head and snapped back to attention. “...if that’s true, then for someone without the gift to open it, you would need an artifact. Some sort of a - a reservoir of magic like -”

“Like a keystone...” ‘Manehn said, pausing briefly as she realized the implications. “That’s how Briala could use the eluvians in the first place!” 

Her voice grew excitedly, “And that means mages can unlock the networks independently, like Solas! Couldn’t we simply do that? Have a mage find the center of the network and just...change the code?”

“Not so simple,” Davhalla stopped her. “Remember? It’s a very specific passphrase. And there isn’t just one that unlocks all the eluvians. You would need to acquire a dizzying array of incantations. You only knew the first one because of luck.” 

Merrill folded her arms. “If Briala did it the first time but if Solas can override it, then it’s pointless to try changing it back because he would just override it again. You need very powerful magic to tap into that sort of power. But, just how much would you need? Oh! Let me try to find out...” 

She rushed past them to grab her book. ‘Manehn and Davhalla, who was still fuming, watched her pace around the eluvian for some time, muttering about misplacing things in between frustrated sighs and self-directed admonishments. 

“What are you looking for?” ‘Manehn finally asked.

“This!” Merrill finally said triumphantly, holding up a quill and small earthen jar of ink. “Thank the Creators it didn’t spill over during all that fighting. Just imagine what a mess that would make on such beautiful tiles.” 

She sat down near the eluvian,on the stone tile, crossed her legs, and rummaged through the papers within the book. Most pages were barely held in their binding, and some pages were completely loose. She dipped the quill in her ink and began scribbling some calculations and diagrams on an empty sheet, staining her hands and leaving streaks of pooled ink on the page while she muttered to herself some more.

“Well, I don’t have paper on hand to check my math but I know you’d need at least enough lyrium to kill every mage within a 5 mile radius,” Davhalla quipped between gritted teeth. 

“You don’t need piles of lyrium at all, actually,” Merrill said without looking up, “there’s more power in blood magic, but... ” she paused sheepishly, “you could bleed yourself dry. That is, if I’m not messing up my calculations, of course. Let me see, did I use the right formula here?”

“Absolutely not!” Davhalla erupted with such fury that her almost-onyx skin turned hot. “Every blood mage eventually perverts magic to suit their whims!” She whirled around to face ‘Manehn, pleading. “You can’t possibly -.”

“Blood magic is just magic, like any other magic,” Merrill calmly replied with the slightest glare, repeating a tired line she had stated countless times to combat a tired misconception. “Everyone who uses it doesn’t turn into a demon, you know.” 

“I can’t even believe you, of all elvhen, would succumb to such a thing!” Davhalla said, inching closer to her.

“I didn’t ‘succumb’”, Merrill snapped. “I’m not a child. I chose this path.”

“Enough!” ‘Manehn stood between the both of them with her arm outstretched towards Davhalla, “Right now, I don’t care right now about the morality of it. Let’s find out what we need to do to take back the network and worry about it later. We might be able to find a different way.”

Davhalla pressed her lips together in stony silence. 

‘Manehn turned back to Merrill.

“Will you help us?”

“Well,” Merrill paused, tapping her index finger to her chin, “I’ve been doing this alone for so long, I never even thought to ask for help. Well, not from anyone who would know anything about it. Though I guess Fen’harel knew. And the Qunari. And Briala. Actually - ”

Her lips curled into a small smile as she closed her book and rose from the floor. 

“I think I can, actually. I don’t know how helpful my assistance would be. But, of course, any assistance at all would be appreciated, right?”

“Yes, it would.” ‘Manehn said while shooting a quick glance at a still smouldering Davhalla, “Thank you.”

“But I don’t think I can join you directly. I just...” Merill paused for a moment, her voice lowered to a whisper, “Did you like her, when you met her? Hawke, I mean?”

“I did.”

“I did too. She had that effect on people.” Merrill said, her vivid green eyes beginning to glisten as she reminisced. 

“She was always joking, always wanted to laugh,” she said as a wistful smile spread across her face. “She always wanted to make sure you were laughing too. She really cared. She might have been wrong about the eluvian in the end, but it wasn’t out of maliciousness. She cared about me. About everyone. How they were treated. How she was treating them. She has...she had a good heart.”

She paused for a moment, then looked directly into ‘Manehn’s eyes. ”I hope you don’t forget her.”

“I haven’t,” ‘Manehn said, biting her lip, looking away from Merrill’s intense, almost accusing gaze. “I can’t bring her back, but I can kill the man who was responsible for all of it.”

Merrill paused as she pondered her words, her brow wrinkled and a small frown on her face.

“I’ll accept that,” she finally said, still clutching her book. “I can’t join you, and I’ve been away from my People in Kirkwall too long now. I have to check on them. And help them. But I can share everything I know and everything I’ve found.” 

She thrust her book into Davhalla’s hands.

“Dareth shiral for now,” Merrill said with a nod as she left the ruins. “You’ll hear from me again, of course, I’ll find out as much as I can. I have notes - more notes - I can work on and, well, let me stop blathering on.”

“But I do have one other thing to ask of you, Inquistor,” she turned back to look at ‘Manehn, a cold anger in her voice.

“Send Fen’harel to the Void where he belongs.”

‘Manehn nodded as Merrill disappeared out of sight.

 “I will.”

[yukiwrites]

Byleth, Focusing

Thanks for the support as always, @xpegasusuniverse! I was emotional while writing this, I hope you like it! ;o;)

Summary: The enemy had come unnanounced, taking everything Byleth ever had in his life -- his father, Jeralt. Shaken by grief, Byleth’s resolve in hunting down his and Sothis’ sworn enemies keeps him going as he reads through his father’s diary and discovers the truth about the Stone within his heart...

Commission info HERE and HERE!

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Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10  - Part 11  - Part 12  - Part 13 - Part 14  - Part 15

Byleth himself carried Jeralt's body back to the monastery.

No stretchers. No help from his fellow mercenaries. No.

He would carry his Father.

One last time.

... For the first time.

Long had Jeralt carried Byleth -- the burdens of a lifetime; secrets buried deep within the mind, away from any prying eyes, protected at the cost of a nomad life... And the only thing Byleth could do in return was make sure to bury his father beside his Mother.

The raindrops fell heavily on the Professor's shoulders, the water seeping into his very bones, chilling the soul. Sothis' apologies had died down with the passing of the hours, her voice sounding farther and farther away as it did.

Was he shutting her out or was she giving him space? Byleth couldn't say for certain.

He could barely feel a thing under his cold fingertips, the memories of loss spiralling in and out of his mind, mingling with Sothis'.

Byleth squeezed his eyes shut as he knelt by the muddy grave, uncaring of any spectators who'd come to give their farewells to Jeralt.

His tears were warm -- a painful reminder of his status as a living being, as opposed to the frozen feeling of his limbs. "That darkness... It was familiar." He clenched his fist, his hoarse voice deafened by the heavy rain around him.

Sothis flinched inside his mind, materializing beside him. "You don't mean-"

Byleth nodded minimally, anger so deeply carved into his expression one would never be able to call him 'Ashen Demon' again for his eyes shone in a fierce blue. "You told me not to take on a millennia-old fight, but the fight came to me instead."

Sothis opened and closed her mouth. She couldn't even tell him that the path of vengeance was wrong -- as she was aware that many would -- because she, too, fell victim of those who abandoned the light from aboveground. So had her children. History had to be rewritten to push the villains into oblivion, yet there they were again, intent on making everyone's lives a living hell.

"I'll fight." Byleth could feel Sothis' conflict, but he himself was resolute. "They'll pay." He clutched his chest, almost as though he could dig his hand into it and touch Sothis' core directly.

The goddess simply lowered her head somberly, placing one ethereal hand on Byleth's shoulder. "Let us both fight together." Her voice echoed as the rain fell through her.

I may not be much with these limited powers, she thought melancholy, however, I may have an idea to enhance them in you instead...

Byleth let out a bitter smile, knitting his brow together so as to keep himself from sobbing. "You weren't at fault... I'm sorry I said all of that," he said in a small voice, barely over a whisper. Rain thundered about, muffling his words to all but the one who dwelled in his mind. "But... thank you, my friend."

Honestly, Byleth didn't remember how or when he went back to his room that night. The next few days blended together as though the simple passing of time was enough to make him dizzy, his mind struggling to process the loss.

The only interaction he had -- and needed -- was Sothis' voice and comforting embrace in their shared mindscape. As a mother, her grief was fundamentally different from Byleth's, who had lost a parent, but they both could find solace in one another's pains and coping mechanisms.

Once Byleth felt well enough to stand, he headed straight to Jeralt's room, not caring to seek out anyone in his path -- actively or inadvertently ignoring anyone who got remotely close to his chosen route.

Opening the door to Jeralt's study all at once was a mistake -- Byleth was slapped in the face with his father's scent, making him clench his jaw and hesitate more than a few moments to take the first step inside. One would think that with the little amount of time Jeralt spent in his room wouldn't be enough to left such significant impression, but that clearly wasn't the case.

Jeralt was in every nook and cranny of that battered room. He was a neat man, so the furniture was kept clean and tidy, as were his personal objects.

Byleth's chin trembled as he stepped inside, forcing him to take a moment to recompose himself by leaning on a nearby bookshelf.

Sothis patted his head mentally, taking it upon herself to look around in Byleth's stead. "Over there- are you well enough to move? That book way over there, hidden at the highest corner of the shelf- can you see it? Mayhap it contains something?"

"I see it." Byleth blinked slowly, looking up to the book Sothis was pointing to. He unceremoniously stepped on an expensive-looking chair to reach it, not bothering to look for a stool.

The moment he touched the old-looking book, something threatened to fall out of it, triggering Byleth's reflex of catching it before it did.

It was a ring.

His Mother's ring.

"Oh..." Byleth croaked out, gripping at the delicate ornament before stuffing it into his pocket. Sothis simply waited in silence for Byleth to compose himself, leaning her ethereal head on his shoulder.

Sniffling, the Professor managed to push down the lump in his throat enough to speak. "This- looks to be Dad's diary. I saw him writing on it from time to time when I was a kid."

"His handwriting is prettier than his face would suggest," Sothis blurted out as Byleth opened the book. "Why, those entries right at the beginning- they’re well before your birth! The courting of your mother, his love for her..." She said fondly, reaching out to the yellowed pages as though she could touch them. "What a beautiful love it must've been."

Byleth couldn't even nod, the rush of emotions he felt as he read the loving way his father talked about his mother taking everything he had. He slid down to sit on the floor, crossing his legs so he could read it and take it all in.

"This part here... Horsebow Moon, year 1159... It's the year of your birth!" Sothis urged Byleth to turn the pages faster. "There must be some clue here-"

Byleth frowned as he quickly read the passages, Sothis' voice echoing the words inside his mind. "Rhea..."

"Your father had been wary of her from day one, that much is true. So his suspicions hailed from an even farther past..."

For all that was written in the diary, apart from Rhea's odd behavior, it simply looked as though she placed the Crest Stone into Byleth's heart to save him from a certain death -- something Sothis knew her daughter would do, at least back in the day.

Was that truly the only reason? Would that Rhea, the child who was the most attached to Herself, give away Sothis' own heart to a random child from one of the Knights?

... Sothis wanted to say, without hesitation, that she would. She desperately wanted to say that the selfless duckling that always followed her around would simply be just as nice as that.

But she hesitated. She didn't have the confidence to say it, not after reading the diary and remembering how Rhea behaved while she was donning the alias of Seiros.

Byleth, on the other hand, seemed convinced, if not pleased, with the simple conclusion -- at least for the time being. As he got up from the floor, Sothis' mouth moved before she could control it.

"Where are you going? Aren't you going to read the rest?"

"Mhm," Byleth nodded, stuffing the book into the inner pocket of his coat. "I'll keep this for the time being, but I figured Hanneman and Manuela should know of this development... I did say I'd keep them posted on my conversation with Dad, after all."

"You foolish child. You know there's no need to honor that promise right now. Let yourself grieve."

Byleth shook his head as he looked around his father's study one last time before stepping out of it. "This IS my way to grieve." He closed the door with a soft click, leaning his head on the hard wood for a good moment. "Besides, if I go back to my room right now, I'll probably just head straight to Rhea and ask her all about this. I need Hanneman and Manuela to hold me back." He barked a bitter laugh, stealing a stifled giggle from Sothis, as well as a good-natured slap on his back.

She looked down as Byleth started walking. "For the record, I do not think you should talk to her, either."

"I know." Byleth nodded. He had felt his mindmate's hesitation back then, which also spurred his urge in going to talk with Rhea. But he wouldn't. He would listen to his friend's pleas this time around -- he had caused her enough grief already.

Sothis pressed her lips into a thin line, torn between smiling fondly and frowning deeply. Moved by her friend's attentiveness and selflessness in the situation he was in at the moment, she couldn't help but feel rather selfish. Was she protecting her child from an uncertain future? There was no way to know Rhea's true intentions without talking to her directly, but if the answer was too much for Byleth to handle...

Maybe Sothis was trying to protect the both of them -- the friend she could only make after she died and the child that outlived her. The goddess curled back into the corners of Byleth's mind as he reached Hanneman's office.

The door was open, so there was no need to announce oneself. Hanneman got up from his seat so fast he winced. "Byleth!" He gasped loudly. "Should you be up and about? I wouldn't want you to fall sick at such grievous time..."

Hurried steps sounded from the corridor before they reached the door. Manuela appeared from out of it, quickly running to hold Byleth's shoulders. "So it really was you I caught a glimpse of...!" She pressed her lips into a thin line, never knowing what to say in these kinds of situations. "I am so, so very sorry for your loss, dear Professor."

"Likewise." Hanneman nodded beside his fellow professor, stealing a smile from Byleth's tired lips.

"Thanks, you two. I actually came here to talk about what I found out regarding the Crest Stone-"

"Oh, my!" Manuela slapped Hanneman's shoulder. "Quick, old man, close that door!"

"Right!" Slightly offended from being ordered around, but still complying, Hanneman ran to the entrance to seal it shut. "You shouldn't force yourself, Professor-"

"It was Rhea." He said as he pulled the diary from his pocket. "She put the Stone within my heart."

The temperature in the room dropped rapidly.

"As we theorized, then..." Hanneman frowned, uncharacteristically calm about such a breakthrough. "To think the Children of the Goddess held such immense and frightening power..."

Manuela tilted her head from Hanneman to the book in Byleth's hand, ultimately taking it. "Did your father...?"

"Know about it? No. Write it down? Kind of." Byleth bobbed his head to the sides. "From what he wrote, Rhea had a direct hand in my survival after apparently being born dead. Since we know what lies inside my chest, we can only conclude..."

"... that it was her, yes. But for what purpose?" Hanneman peeked at the diary from over Manuela's shoulder. "Surely not out of the goodness of her heart? Hah!" He sneered, and Byleth felt a pang of pain in his heart -- surely hailing from Sothis herself.

"... Sothis doesn't want me to confront Rhea about this, so I won't go. Although I do think that would be the fastest-"

"Absolutely not!" Manuela and Hanneman said at the same time. "If she has the power to put that thing inside of you, surely she can just as easily take it out should you go against her! Don't let your grief fuel your recklessness, Byleth." Manuela placed the book back in Byleth's hand, purposely not handing it to Hanneman's prying eyes.

The older man hesitated, but decided against asking to read the diary for himself. He wasn't entirely tactless, after all. "I agree with Manuela. Let us first sit down and put all the facts before us..."

[silyabeeodess]

AHIT Headcanons: Subcon and Spirits

Since I’m hitting pause on “The Firelands” for just a bit and haven’t come up with enough plot ideas to dump a bunch more stories into “Tales of the Fire Spirits” at once, I’m doing this to organize my thoughts for the overarching stories I may cover in the future.  I’ve been getting tons of questions on FFN on the way the world in these fanfics work, so I figured this would be a good way to try to tie off some things in a neat bow for me to reference later and in case I don’t get the chance to cover them in the future.  With the inclusion of things such as Moonjumper’s character or the fire spirits, which were either cut content or we don’t have much background info on, I might make a few adjustments or more original expansions; however, I will try to do so keeping as close to canon as I can or with historical/folklore references in mind.  I might not cover all that I do in the fics, but if you’re interested, please check it out below:

Spirits and the Spiritual Plane

The world of AHIT has multiple planes of reality, the two which merge/overlap the most being the physical and spiritual realms.  The physical realm covers the world at large which mortals live in and engage with.  For the spirits, it’s vice-versa.  However, a lot of spirits live at points at which these two realms crossover and can even allow mortals to step over that line from these locations.  

Spirits found at these points often have strong ties to the physical world as well, such as the elementals.  They use their magic to bend the physical plane at these locations to create an ideal environment for them to thrive in (ex. The fire spirits have the Firelands).  The forces used to manifest them create reality-bending whirlpools of spiritual magic that also keep them hidden from mortals. So, while a mortal may see indicators of where their borders start, they can’t actually tell where they’re going upon entry and will just loop back out.  This also works in reverse if a spirit takes a mortal to their domain and doesn’t want them to leave.  Only mortals “marked” by the spirits or those with special tools/abilities can freely pass through these barriers on their own.

There are several of these points scattered throughout the world and they’re all different depending on the spirits who reside in them.  They can also shift if the spirits need to adjust their territories for any reason (rare, but not impossible when strong magic is involved).  Subcon has the most out of any location on the planet thanks to the forest possessing an incredibly high concentration of magic, which attracts a lot of spirits--and only increases the area’s spiritual forces even more.

The Horizon is a unique place out of all of these points, existing closest to the actual spiritual realm, but still accessible in the physical world through magical waypoints/objects.

Overall, a mortal being can typically only fight back against them when they possess spiritual magic.  This is common for ghosts, to varying degrees, but the people of Subcon in general were born with some concentration of it, the land itself infusing them with that power.  Not to say that they always access it or even always can, but it’s there.  This phenomena can also occur for individuals who face prolonged exposure (in years) to spiritual magic.  

All spirits have their own ways of life, so no two species are alike and many rival with each other.  All they really have in common is a stubbornness that their ways are the best.  While some species are friendly to mortals and have good intentions, it doesn’t always mean that they’ll do the right thing--or even understand what the right thing is--either due to having a vastly different perspective on life and varying degrees of sentience.

Subcon History/Culture

Living alongside the spirits for as long as anyone can remember, much of Subcon’s ways are steeped in tradition and folklore.  Long before Vanessa and her prince were even born, the people of Subcon worked together with the spirits to help the forest thrive and protect it from malevolent forces.  As such, the spirits who resided there often openly travelled through the village(s) or lived with humans.  The royal families not only led their people, but helped lead the spirits as well so that everyone could prosper.  There was some feuds and rivalries always existed, but things were good.  As generations passed and increased trade outside of Subcon opened up a new world for the humans, however, those ties began to slowly sever and traditions ebb away.

The masks the people of Subcon wore were a way of protecting children from the spirits.  Based on the spirits themselves, it was believed that they could frighten them off or confuse them into thinking that the children were other spirits.  They were also often imbued with a bit of spiritual power to help them see and interact with things they normally couldn’t in the physical world.  Some other areas outside of Subcon had the same tradition, and many of the Dwellers still wear them as both a way to honor their past and against the chance of evil spirits still pursuing them in death.  Masquerade balls and similar celebrations were also popular.

A mortal with a high spiritual power--be it from birth or from being affected by a spirit’s magic--stands at the risk of effectively becoming spirits themselves.  Some might die prior to this process, but it’s more like a transformation.  As such, those people remain trapped in the physical world until they either A.) move on, like a normal, lost soul, or B.) are killed in a fashion similar to the spirits.  This process occurs when the spiritual power inside a person consumes them, be it by conscious choice, overusing their magic, or if more magic than their physical bodies could handle tore them apart from the inside out.   

The people of Subcon were often raised with the idea to be kind, but wary around each of the spirits: To treat them well and remain polite, but never let themselves be taken advantage of or led into dangerous places.  They were also quick to warn travelers of the same, those who failed to do so often having to deal with the spirits themselves according to the latter’s own view of propriety/justice.

Most of the powerful spirits are also prideful and hard in their ways.  It was difficult for the royal families to work with them at times and ambassadors were needed.  The ones they struggled with the most were the swamp spirits, who would at some point isolate a part of Subcon for themselves and take vengeance against anyone who trespassed there.

For a while, Subcon actually had multiple rulers as it covered a wide terrain that was often also cut apart by the spirits’ territories. Everyone was really hopeful when the prince and Vanessa got together, as they believed it meant that all of Subcon would unite and lead to a golden era. They loved them and how they truly would meet their subjects on-level, especially the prince, so they thought the two would bring some of Subcon’s glory days back in full-swing.

When Vanessa’s cursed ice storm hit, it devastated all of Subcon.  Not only did it kill most of the Dwellers, it also ripped apart a lot of the spirits’ territories--immediately severing ties with pretty much all of them.  The only thing that kept most of the spirits’ wrath at bay was her own people being killed in the process.  

This, however, came with its own dangers.  That large amount of devastation and death all at once, fueled further by the cursed magic, lingering souls, and all of the negative emotions they carry with them, created a dark miasma that blanketed over Subcon. This miasma constantly attracts wicked spirits who want that power for themselves--and to claim a few souls along the way.  It’s caused a massive power struggle, with even some of the spirits who already lived in the forest eventually fighting to expand for the sake of their lost territories. Without Snatcher, most of the Dwellers would be at the mercy of those spirits.  

Snatcher and Moonjumper

Rather than take the spirit vs. body route, I’d like to treat them as two halves of the same soul forcibly cleaved apart.  (We see both Vanessa’s and her prince’s bodies alter in their storybook, so parts of their deaths and missing corpses I’m chalking up to the spiritual magic already present inside them messing with their physical selves.)  In essence, after the prince--finally decided on a name for him, Alistair--died, his soul carved itself apart as a means of survival from his broken state of mind.  Not only did he still carry the grief and confusion over what happened with Vanessa, but also a massive sense of guilt for what happened to the people of Subcon.  One part of him fought to retain his own innocence and the person he was prior to these events: One part of him loathed himself and wanted to strip all of that away, cursing his choices and blaming himself for Subcon’s destruction.  Thus, two beings were born from the prince, each getting their wish: Moonjumper forgot about Vanessa and what happened between them, disappearing into the Horizon, while Snatcher hardened himself and chose to become someone new, someone powerful and viscous enough to never let anything like that happen to him or his kingdom again.  

While both of them are strong enough to manifest in a more human/humanoid form, they each gave up on it as a side effect of the split.  Snatcher took the physical shape of the shadowy horror he wanted to be so people wouldn’t know he was the prince while Moonjumper actually kept some pieces of his old belongings: The monocle and mask.  The mask was originally a normal, venetian half-moon mask that he would’ve worn for celebrations/traditions as the prince, but it’s now meshed with his ghost form.  It doesn’t make expressions, but has basically taken over his whole head.  While it can be removed, he’ll go into a full-blown rage if it’s taken without his consent.  Removing it will force him to shapeshift his face back to normal.  Snatcher is the better shapeshifter, but his current form is also dictated by his forced persona.

To the Dwellers and minions, Snatcher is just another spirit that showed up one day and took things over.  Some of them might be suspicious, but no one would dare ask and he’s not going to tell them.  There are different rumors (about the prince being killed and just not returning as a ghost, that Vanessa still has the prince somewhere in her manor, or that the prince fled Subcon like his parents did when the storm spread to their place), but a handful of them believe--and Snatcher thinks they all believe--that the prince abandoned them when they needed him most or that he wasn’t strong enough to stand against Vanessa, ice powers or no.  It’s not a fair judgement, but it’s still there--especially for souls like the florist, who hold a personal grudge.  

Snatcher doesn’t actually eat souls, but he can capture them.  It’s more of a threat he just built around his reputation.  The souls he captures are either forced to work for him or are imprisoned, sometimes used in experiments or for weapons like the cherry bombs.  The contracts he makes people sign make it easier for him to bind others’ souls to him, but it also serves a double-purpose: It forces him to keep all relationships strictly to business, as just something on paper rather than anything meaningful. 

By the point of the game and outside of his concern for his subjects, Snatcher’s bought his own line completely.  He really is terrible and wholly devoted to the “evil spirit” charade he’s been putting on for years.  Part of it too though is that, as a ghost, his sense of mortality has shifted.  He and everyone around him is already dead, so killing people really doesn’t hold that much weight to him anymore because “hey, I can just take their soul, so it’s not like they’re gone for good.”  He just knows it still matters to the living and he can lord that over them.  Hat Kid’s gonna break him out of that a bit, but not by much at a time and he’ll always be a grump.

Can’t talk about Moonjumper without the Horizon, so here goes: The place still acts as a kind of limbo, but it’s fabricated as a place of spiritual healing. It’s a place for mortal souls to go to clear off whatever baggage they’re still carrying before moving on to the afterlife and spirits like it too.  Some, in fact, never leave--by choice or otherwise.  A goat found one of the entrances thanks to the Twilight Bell, and since then he and his descendants have taken the roles of healers and beings of spiritual enlightenment upon death, with a part of the realm “ruled” by themselves.  Moonjumper’s still the main ruler though, able to exude the most power over the Horizon and distort its reality.  Overall though, he’s isolated himself in his own section of it to fabricate an area that somewhat resembles past-Subcon.  And his method of healing... isn’t the best.  You know how some say “ignorance is bliss?” A part of him took that to heart, so one of the ways he uses his strings is to rewrite memories.  This overwrite makes it so that a soul can’t move on, as whatever was actually affecting them never truly got healed and is just contained somewhere inside them, so he usually then takes them in as a content subject.

Early on, Moonjumper came back to the real Subcon a handful of times in secret, because there’s still a small part of him that does want to move forward and misses everything.  Nevertheless, all this really did was attract a few dissenters from the Dwellers, ones that saw him and immediately believed he was “the prince” (even if they don’t know the full story).  They followed him back to the Horizon, hoping to get answers or to convince him to stay in Subcon, but he wouldn’t listen. Having shut out the worst of his memories, he refuses to listen to anyone that tries to destroy the new “reality” he’s created.  Anyone who pushes it to his breaking point end up facing the full-force of his strings, possessed so that they’re made to play a role in his delusion.  In effect, those Dwellers who followed him had their memories of the real Subcon wiped and think that they’re home.  Trying to break free from their part not only “physically” hurts them thanks to the strings, but amplifies the emotions tied to their repressed memories.  

Sometimes he’ll also try to fill “gaps” among his subjects. If he feels like something’s missing and someone shows up to the Horizon who can fit that role, he’ll try to coerce or use his strings on them to get them to stay.

The goats know he’s messed up in the head, but they also don’t think he’s a bad person. Outside of his outbursts, he really does try to be a kind, just leader: They just know that his “good intentions” are also coming from a place of selfishness and are hurting people.  And the one thing they don’t know is how to fix him when he’s constantly rejecting help.  So they tend to keep back and focus their energy on looking after anyone else who enters the Horizon, hoping one day he’ll come to his senses enough to let himself heal. 

Vanessa

Vanessa is still her old, insane self as in the game.  The idea behind her past though is that--while the prince was actually raised to be a good, responsible ruler--Vanessa was raised by strict parents who expected her more to play a part and spoiled her rotten.  They wanted her to be a perfect, little princess, so they gave her everything she wanted while simultaneously drilling this idea in her head of the life she was expected to have.  It ended up taking things too far, as Vanessa’s ideas of what a princess should be ended up relying almost completely on stories and fairytales, and with her life pretty much getting handed to her at every stop, she fully accepted that those fairytales would be her reality.  Anything that broke the illusion didn’t belong, and she had a habit of immediately lashing out when things didn’t go the way she wanted them to.  When things were “perfect,” she was perfect--and it was what most of the villagers saw.  When things didn’t go right, well... 

When Vanessa’s magic took over her, she became something similar to a yuki-onna (snow woman).  As such, she shares the strengths and weaknesses of them, such as freezing her victims and taking their lifeforce.  The main, notable difference is that heat doesn’t affect her as much as it would a common yuki-onna, alluding to her incredibly strong magic and former humanity. 

The servants and guards who catered to Vanessa were groomed specifically to follow her whims, loyalty to the crown always standing over loyalty to the people or their own ideals.  These souls--even those killed by Vanessa’s storm--would later possess the statues in Subcon.  Most of them are headless for two reasons: So they can’t spy on Snatcher and his minions and because his minions are pretty angry over how “mindless” those souls behave, so they lopped their heads off. They mostly get by with their hearing and a sixth sense that allows them to feel the environment around them.  They continue to serve Vanessa, whether by still acting as guards/soldiers or obtaining anything she desires from the outside world.  

The Florist

Because I brought her up once already and now I feel obligated.  So, prior to the storybook events, she was just another, normal citizen.  She supported the prince and princess and wanted to see the kingdom thrive under their care.  However, after the prince was locked away, Vanessa also wanted to take revenge on the woman who “stole him from her.”  That same evening, she sent guards to kill the florist in secret. They dragged her off to the swamp and drowned her, hoping to pin her death on the swamp spirits.

Unfortunately for the guards, the swamp spirits also have their own watchmen and they were killed immediately after for trespassing.  When they found the woman’s body, they could tell her soul was still clinging on. She desperately wanted to know what happened and why.  It’s not the first time something like that had happened, so they just waited for her soul to do whatever it would and imprisoned her (also as a trespasser), breaking the news that villagers had been slaughtered not long after her with the swamp spirits believing both royal families had abandoned their people.  It left her a furious, vengeful spirit, hateful toward both the princess for the massacre and the prince for seemingly doing nothing to stop it. 

For years, she’d remain the swamp spirit’s prisoner; however, she’d eventually fall on good enough terms with them to rise in their ranks and become something of a jailor herself.  She hardly ever comes to the surface, staying in the depths of their realm, but often takes control over any other lost souls that find themselves there.  She has to remain strict and judges fairly, but she’s also treats them better than the swamp spirits would without her around.  

Common Spirits in Subcon

Fire Spirits: 

These always take the form of a fox and are some of the more animalistic of the spirits, relying heavily on instinct.  The older these spirits get, however, the more they learn human language and behaviors in order to interact with mortals.  In past-Subcon, they freely roamed and engaged with the villagers, sometimes as tricksters and sometimes helping them out.  (The background for them takes a combination of lore behind kitsune, phoenixes, will-o-wisps, and brownies.)   

Throughout their lifespans, these spirits build up a constantly burning fire that makes up their core.  When they’re effectively ready to burst, they conduct a ritual by building up a massive flame and dancing around it (possibly for days at a time) in hopes of combusting so they can revive anew.  The barriers they create are there to protect them as the ritual takes place, the elders undergoing it unable to stop once it’s begun while the young find materials (hopefully, full of living energy) to burn.  A successful ritual gives the spirits enough energy upon combustion to be reborn back in their own territory and possibly duplicate. 

Older spirits have a strong magic and physical body, but the younger ones (especially newborns) are incredibly weak.  They need constant sustenance to grow healthy and can be snuffed out easily.  If they’re snuffed out in this weakened state, they won’t be reborn.  However, if one is killed at an older stage, there’s still a chance for them to come back--albeit, they’ll be ever weaker than normal and struggle through rebirth.    

Swamp Spirits:

Swamp spirits can appear graceful or even beautiful in their own domain, but look fairly grotesque on dry land. They’re a kind of fish-people and are the most humanlike out of the spirits in Subcon.  They also have the longest running feud between the Dwellers and other spirits, keeping themselves isolated in their underwater realm and taking a long while to get used to outsiders.  

After Vanessa’s storm hit they tried to expand their swamp, knowing that other spirits would soon prey upon Subcon anyway if they didn’t and wanting to strengthen their territories before that happened.  They got fairly far until Snatcher pushed them back, almost to their original boundaries. 

All surface-dwellers are just ‘Dwellers’ to them: It doesn’t matter if they’re from Subcon or not.  It takes a lot for a dweller to earn their respect and most them are quick to judge. The best way to get on their good side quickly is to appeal to their ego without demeaning yourself in the process.    

Spider Spirits:

(based on Tsuchigumos and Jorogumos) While the giant spiders in Subcon and the Alpine Skylines are just that, it can be assured that there’s at least one spirit commanding them, waiting back at their nests.  These are particularly ruthless and wait for hapless victims to fall into hands, although they’re more interested in the living than mortal souls.  

Giant Skeletons:

(based on Gashadokuros) These rare, but dangerous spirits were attracted to the dark miasma clinging to Subcon and cause havoc for every being wherever they go.  While virtually brainless, they feed on negative forces left from the dead.  Snatcher was strong enough to take out several, and their remains are scattered throughout the forest in a dormant state until all of that energy eventually burns out of them.  

Lightning Sprites:

Sprites aren’t typically seen in the mortal realm, but these give off such a powerful glow that they can be found relatively easily--not in their own forms, but by the element they’re associated with. In the sky or in stormy weather, they can appear as the natural ‘sprite’ phenomena, but around land--specifically around areas that produce high amounts of electricity and/or have things such as powerlines--they have a yellow glow.  You can’t really spot them in any way beyond an electric current and their high-pitched noises, and while harmless overall beyond the occasional bit of mischief, they can certainly give you quiet a shock.    

(There are others, not to mention vengeful souls, but that’s all I got so far.  Might update later as more comes to mind.)

[departeddestiny]

Kurasa was borne in the kingdom of Doma, before the Garlean occupation. His mother was Tsuki Orl, a well known seamstress that wove magic with her fingers and incorporated bold colors into a style that she was praised for. His father, Ryoma Orl, was one of the top ranking military officials who held a decorated history. Four years prior they had another child, Kurasa’s older sister, Chiharu. They were not close growing up and it would not be until years passed that Kurasa could admit that she was one of the most loving people he had ever met - it was because of her bravery and need to keep him safe that they survived many tragedies. 

Garlemald invaded Yanxia from the west when Kurasa was seven and they quickly overtook the kingdom. Because of his unwillingness to step down, Ryoma was captured and executed as an example to the other Doman citizens of the price they would pay, should they continue to resist. Kurasa could remember how they were all assembled in the market square, forced to watch as the military leaders were lined up. One moment they stood there, the silver of the guns glinted in the sun as they were lifted. Never having heard a gunshot before, let alone multiple, the sound physically startled the boy. But still slitted eyes stared at his father, watched in horror as blood blossomed from the small hole in his chest. Anger rose like a tidal wave and had Tsuki not dragged the boy away, there might have been more death that day.

Three years had gone by since the passing of Ryoma and his absence was all too clear to the now family of three. The Garlean forces that occupied Doma stripped the citizens of all they knew, added pressures that were hard to handle. Within the Orl clan, many conspired to leave, to find a place where they could start over and live without fear of stepping out of line. On the night that the castle was razed, Tsuki as well as Sindurgu’s parents, took the opportunity to flee with their families and what few belongings they possessed. Kurasa was 10.

It took five years to reach Coerthas. Five years of worry for whether or not they would truly find the destination they sought.  The central highlands that they planned to settle into were protected by Ishagard, said to be bountiful - it was also close to Dravania. There are those within the Orl clan whom always felt themselves like their dragon brother and sisters, it unknown that one amoung them had been blessed with the blood of their kin. Throughout their travels, they had heard whispers of a war between dragons ( wyrms ) and Ishardians but that did little to stop their pilgrimage and settlement. During his travels, Kurasa had grown from a young lad to a teenager, with the attitude to prove such. Valuable skill sets such as hunting, fishing, the mending of cloth and gear, were taught to the man. Sindurgu’s father had become mentor to him, did all he could to help the kid grow into someone that would make his family proud. 

One day when Kurasa snuck away from camp, he happened upon a young Elezen who held himself a manner that made the Xaela intent on being rude. Despite this the young man welcomed Kurasa with open arms, seeming to not mind that he was of a difference race. Eventually after many visits, the two became friends. Kurasa showed a side of himself not many were able to see. But in light of the hostility between their peoples, they decided to keep their friendship a secret.

The Calamity. Utter destruction and chaos ensued after Bahamut broke free of Dalamud. Coerthas had become a tundra in it’s wake - the sudden freezing killed many; Elezen and Xaela alike, plants, and animals. Those that were left were forced to adapt. Animal fur became a source of insulation, fires were kept burning day and night, food was scarce. Because of all this, the twenty ( 20 ) year old was forced to learn how to survive in the harshest climate: the cold did not have any sympathy for weak. Thankfully, he was blessed by his ancestors with a strong survival instinct and a body that rarely faltered. So that too, he did survive.

Kurasa cannot fully recall what happened that fateful night. Screams echoed through the once peaceful air that surrounded the camp, woke the sleeping man with a start from his slumber. A hand snagged his, grip tight as it yanked him from the tent into the open; almost immediately slitted eyes began to water as they took in the site of their camp burning. The smoke hung heavy as fire licked across cloth, remained alight due to the belongings that were brought to this new land. Chiharu’s voice to his right brought the man from his daze, reminded him that it was not the time to falter - but as he tried to tug his hand free from his sisters, his mothers voice could be heard; begged him to run. For both of her children to run. No, he couldn’t. He had to fight. He had to prove himself a force against the enemy that threatened them. Yet the his sister’s grip remained tight in his palm, she tugged pleadingly. 

It was either he have stayed and watched as his entire family died, or left and promise vengeance against those that harmed his people. One last look in the direction his mother’s voice came, and the pair turned heel and ran. Refused to look behind in case their were monsters that wished to give chase. Only when the two found shelter within a cave, hidden against the face of a mountain, did it finally dawn on Kurasa: he would never see his mother again.

Two years after they fled the massacre of the Orl tribe, Kurasa and Chiharu finally arrived in Gridania. With the skills taught by her mother and utilized during their travels, Chiharu became a part of the weavers guild and her brother? He helped anyone that needed it. The city-state had been hit hard by the Calamity and work could always be found. It was during this time that an interest in the lancers guild took hold of the Xaela. Previously having used different knives and daggers, the man took up the weapon for the first time.

When the Warrior of Light first walked into the Canary’s Nest, Kurasa had found himself settled into the a table in the corner; steaming cup of tea in hand. Slitted eyes the color of jacinth lifted upon sensing their presence, watched quietly from afar as they approached Mother Mouinne. He knew that fate has something in store for them - call it a hunch. By this point, the Au Ra had become a well known member of the Lancer’s Guild. His strength unsurpassed and accuracy with his weapon deadly. Kurasa also found himself center of a rumour that when filled with drink, he became a ‘loving’ lizard in comparison to his naturally cold demeanor. One he planned to prove the contrary. But in the time since he and Chiharu arrived in the city-state, the two had been able to make a home for themselves, as much as they could amoung the Elezen.

In the time between his encounter with the Warrior of Light, Kurasa felt an unease inside himself. He should have been doing something more than rebuilding a city-state, more than training with a weapon he felt himself having mastered. There were other cities out there to explore, to find a living in - perhaps he still sought a purpose. Partings were made and with Chiharu’s tear stained features stuck in his head, Kurasa left Gridania for Ul’Dah. Once there he became a sell sword and occasionally took on a bounty. Days were spent asleep and when the night came, Kurasa awoke to prowl the city; intent on his next adventure. After months of this lifestyle, there was news that the rising tension between Ishgard and Dravania was at an all time high. 

With the Dragonsong War in full swing, whispers heard everywhere he went, Kurasa felt sympathy for the dragons...and rage towards those who occupied Ishgard. They had killed his clansmen because of their beliefs ( that the Au Ra descended from dragons but also they were partly to blame for the Calamity ). Since he was little, he always felt that it was the blood of dragons that coursed through his veins. Perhaps the claims were true? Or maybe he had been borne special. His appearance differed greatly from any Au Ra he had come across thus far; slitted eyes, fanged teeth, scales that were cracked and flowed with lava. Perhaps he could be of use to the Horde, but as someone who fought at their side. No. Wishing to help the creatures, he set off.

That year became a turning point for who Kurasa was. Initially having visited the Churning Mists, the Xaela found himself face to face with those he felt most alike. Dragons. Originally threatening in their demeanor, conversation was had where the man expressed his willingness to be of help. To penetrate the Ishgardian forces. It was only because they saw him as useful that they allowed him to live, unbeknownst to Kurasa. 

Once arrived in Ishgard, Lancer abilities in hand, the request to join the Ishgardian Military was not so far fetched; pretend to hate dragons, show interest in protecting the nation. Doing so allotted the Xaela to learn further, become a dragoon under the watchful eye of those within the Holy See. At the same time he secretly moonlighted as an informant for the Dravanian Horde. It was during this time he became close to Aymeric de Borel, used his connection initially to further gain information. Of course, whether the kinship meant something to the Xaela, none are the wise these days. Kurasa held a grudge towards Ishgardians, for killing his clan. His mother. Though he fought for the nation, he did not kill any dragons. Maimed, perhaps. But he had to play the part. 

The fall of Nidhogg affected him little - perhaps a momentary sadness came from death of the great wyrm but all in all, nothing more could be done. When the end of the war came, Kurasa disappeared without a word; whispers of the Xaela having visited Sohm Al followed. After such, the man went back to Ul’Dah to resume the life he had left. And he’s been there since.

[themoonandotherslikeit]

The Daughter of a Righteous Man- Chapter 3

After her husband is drug to Hell, Ava Winchester and her brother in law Sam try their best to do right by Dean and raise her daughter, only to find that good intentions aren’t always enough. Loving someone isnt always enough.

Chapter Three, Eleanor Mary Winchester

Ava

"Are you scared?"

"To give birth? Uh, yes. I think I'd be stupid not to be."

Dean propped himself up on his elbow. He ran his fingers along my stomach. "What are you afraid of?"

"The pain. I don't want to be ripped in half."

"What else?" He drew designs on my stomach with his finger.

"I don't want something to happen to her. I want her to be safe."

He smiled. "You will be okay. You both will be."

"How do you know that?"

"I've been reading those books."

I raised an eyebrow. "You hate research."

"Yeah, but this is researching the female body." He said casually. "So it's fun."

"There is nothing fun about squeezing a nine pound Winchester head out of my vagina." I snapped at him.

He looked horrified. "Kind of glad I won't see that."

"Dean..." I sighed.

"You know I'm not happy about that. I'm just kidding. I'd be right up by your head the whole time. I won't let anything ruin that image for me."

"What image?"

"This one." He said, kissing down my body. He placed himself between my legs and peaked up at me from below my swollen abdomen before ducking under the blanket.

I was in Hell. They had placed the balloon catheter 30 minutes ago to help my cervix open up. I'd never felt pain like that before. It rolled through my body through my stomach and into my thighs. Sam was trying his best, but it was mostly just awkward.

"Do you want ice or anything?"

I looked up at him with a pained expression. I couldn't even speak. I just wanted to cry. I just wanted to be held. I wanted my husband. I wanted my mom.

I held the pillow against my stomach as my muscles spasmed. The nurse came in. I didn't see her, I just heard the sunshine in her voice. "My name is Tara and I'll be your night nurse. How are things going?"

"She's in a lot of pain." Sam said nervously. "Can't you give her something?"

"Is this your first child?" She asked Sam. "The Dads are always nervous, but her body is made for this. She can do it!"

"I'm not..."

"How much longer?" I opened an eye to meet the nurse. It wasn't her fault that we were unconventional. They had given Sam a wrist band to prove he could stay. Usually it said father. I didn't know what it said this time. I couldn't bare to look.

"It will fall out when you're dilated enough. Hopefully soon." She said with a smile. "Try a cold cloth on your head. It may help with the dizziness." She made a few scribbles on her pad and exited. I closed my eyes again.

I heard Sam run water. He lowered himself down on the bed, and he slowly pressed the cold compress to my forehead. She was right, it helped center me. I felt Sam begin to stand, and I grabbed ahold of him. "Wait." I whispered.

I opened my eyes to look at him, he looked so young with his hair in his eyes. "Distract me."

"Yeah, um, okay." He looked up at the ceiling. "When we were kids it was just us and Dad. Dad would leave for days at a time and so it always ended up being just Dean and I."

I closed my eyes and tried to focus on his words. Anything but the pain.

"He was a parent to me. He would cook me Mac and cheese in ways I didn't even know what was possible. One night he made it with marshmallows. I thought he was a genius."

I smiled and rubbed my belly. I could imagine him cooking marshmallow Mac and cheese for our daughter.

"He did everything to protect me. When I was a kid he would threaten to beat up the other kids if they were mean to me, even though I could take them myself. I was never too weird for him, or too nerdy. He was never embarrassed of me."

I felt a tear run down my cheek, and Sam caught it before it could fall.

"But it wasn't always sunshine. I was bald for two weeks because he put superglue in my conditioner. I had hair on my hands for over a week. It was horrible. He said men don't use conditioner." He shrugged. "I still use it now so I showed him. Well that started a massive prank war."

I smiled up at him, my eyes barely open enough to see his wide smile as he talked about his brother.

"I retaliated by injecting hot sauce into his condoms. Let me tell you that was an awkward trip to the ER."

My eyes widened. "What? Sam you could've killed them!"

He shrugged. "I was a sad, bald kid. I wanted vengeance."

"Please tell me that you have pictures."

"If there was they're burned now." Sam laughed. "I'm just happy Dad wasn't sentimental."

"How did Dean get you back?"

"Dad shut it down after the ER visit. I don't know what happened because he didn't talk to me about it. I think Dean took all the blame."

I frowned and sighed.

"You're doing better." He commented gently.

"I'm able to take deep breaths so I think you're right. Maybe I'm finally almost done."

It was like it was waiting for permission. Permission to finally start. For things to be real. For me to be happy. I reached between my legs and there the sucker was. I grinned widely. "Thank god."

Sam looked nauseous, and I couldn't help but laugh. "What's so funny?" He asked, uncomfortably.

"I was just thinking that you can see blood and guts, but birth makes you uncomfortable."

Sam ran his fingers through his hair. "I just don't like to see you in pain."

Sam

She had been at it for almost a day. It was Christmas Eve and suddenly I felt like we may have the best Christmas present.

"You know Christmas always sucked when I was a kid." She had one arm hooked in mine and the other on her belly. We were walking the halls trying to speed things up. Her blood pressure was still okay, and so there was no need for a c section, not yet. I was doing everything I could to keep her calm.

"What was it like?"

"Usually uneventful. Dad would give us some crappy gifts that he got at the gas station, if he even remembered, and then he would pass out drunk in front of the tv."

She glanced up at me, tightening her grip. "We will do things different for her, Sam. We will give her everything we never had."

We.

It felt weird, and almost wrong to be here. He should be the one walking with her, but he wasn't. He left me here to watch out for her. So why do I feel so guilty?

"Want to sit down?" I asked her, gesturing to the window seat.

"Yeah, sure." She said, out of breath. We sat down and she immediately went into a contraction. She squeezed my arm, and I breathed with her.

"You can do this."

"Whew." She said after a minute. "This sucks." She laughed dryly. "Wish Dean was here so I could just punch him for making me go through this."

"He would probably be drinking. He's a strong guy, but I doubt he could handle seeing this."

"You're probably right." She sounded sad as she stared at the window. "Maybe we should call Bobby and your dad. I don't want them to miss meeting her because of the storm."

I winced. I couldn't imagine Dad here. No matter how smitten he was with Ava, he was never the cuddly type. "I'll call them when we get back to the room."

"Okay." She exhaled. Ava met my eyes. "This is weird."

"It is." I admitted with a laugh. "You're right about that."

"You don't have to be here, Sam. I know your last name is Winchester, but that doesn't mean you owe us anything."

"I know." I said with a smile. I ran my fingers through my hair and looked outside at the snow. "It's not about owing you. You're my family. You and your baby. I will be here as long as you want me to be."

Ava grabbed for my arm and squeezed as she experienced another contraction. She closed her eyes and focused on her breathing. "Maybe we should go back to your room." I offered.

She nodded and when the contraction subsided she stood up shakily. We went to her room and she sat on the edge of the bed.

"I'm gonna call Dad and Bobby and get them up here. Will you be okay for a few minutes?"

She nodded and gripped her knees, having another contraction.

I stepped into the hallway and dialed. "Dad."

"Sam? Is everything okay?"

"We are at the hospital. Ava is in labor and she asked for you. She's worried that you will get snowed out and won't be able to meet the baby."

He was silent on the line for almost a minute. "She wants me there?"

"You and Bobby." I said into the phone.

"I'll come."

"Really?"

"Yes, Son. I'll be there." Click.

———————

Dad and Bobby were in the waiting room.

"Do you want to see her?" I asked, greeting Dad and Bobby at the door.

They shook the snow off their coats.

"Son, have you ever been around woman giving birth before?" Dad asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Not until today."

Dad and Bobby laughed.

"We will leave you two to it." Dad shrugged. "You'll be a better man for it."

"Alright, Ava, you can start pushing, so let's get you in position." The doctor said, removing her fingers from Ava's cervix. I was pacing, facing away from her. My face was hot. It was going to be a long night. "Let's get her into position." She said to a nurse.

I glanced at Ava's face, she looked alarmed. "Hey," I said nodding to her. "You've got this."

She smiled at me weakly as they placed her feet in the stirrups.

I felt out of place, and suddenly I wished I was out there with Dad.

I made sure I was level with her head, but still far enough back to where I wouldn't interfere with the doctors. The room was busy with nurses. The OB settled between Ava's legs on a small stool. Ava had small wires attached to her stomach to measure her contractions and the baby's heartbeat.

When her contraction came and went the doctor leaned in. "Okay Ava push for me."

Ava gripped the sheets in her hands, and I watched her face turn red as she strained, rolling her whole body to help the little one out. I winced along with her, because I could tell she was in pain. She groaned out and closed her eyes.

"Good job, Ava. We will take a little break and do it again."

I gave her the thumbs up when she looked for me and she let a tear roll down her cheek. She didn't offer a smile back.

——————-

She had been pushing for an hour, with no avail. She was weak, and she stared blankly ahead of her.

"She's dropped down lower, Ava, just a few more times." The doctor promised gently.

"No." Ava whispered.

"Just try for me. I promise you will hold your baby any time now."

Ava shook her head. "No. I can't. I'm done."

"Sam can I talk to you?" The doctor asked.

We stepped outside. Her expression was serious, her eyebrows furrowed and her lips were in a line.

"If we cant get her to push in the next few minutes we will have to do an emergency C-section." The doctor said.

Shit. "I'll try to talk to her."

"I'm going to go ahead and get the room prepped in case you can't convince her. I'll be back in a few minutes."

What would Dean say? How would he convince her? She needs him. Fuck, I need my brother. What am I going to do?

I unclasped my necklace from my neck, and I walked back into the room. I tried to keep Dean with me in my mind.

"Ava." I said softly, walking to her.

She was silently crying, just staring past me.

"Hey talk to me." I whispered, crouching so I could meet her expression.

"I can't do this without him, Sam." Her voice was broken.

I took her hand, depositing his necklace into it. "He's here with you."

She opened her hand and stared at it. She shook her head and let out a single, broken sob. "No." She thrusted it back into my hand. "It's not the same, and you know it. I'm a 25 year old widow. My baby has no father. I have no husband." She was shaking, and holding her belly. "If she doesn't come out she doesn't have to see what I mess I am."

The doctor opened the door slowly, and walked in. She shook her head.

I can't fail Ava. I can't fail my niece.

"I'm falling apart, Sam. I can't hold myself together anymore. How can I be a mother if I'm in pieces?"

I looked around the room and then impulsively kicked off my shoes. "You don't have to hold yourself together. I'll do it for you." I said, moving the pillows behind her so I could slide in. I sat, with her between my legs. Her head rested on my chest and I took her hands in mine. "I'm here." I promised into her hair. "You can do this. I'll be here to hold you together. Can you try, she needs her mom. All she needs is you."

She turned and met my eyes and nodded. "Okay."

The doctor jumped into action, sitting back on her stool. "Okay Ava here comes another one... and push!"

She squeezed my hands, and I could feel her writhing against me. "Good job, Ava. You can do it." I whispered encouragements into her ear.

She nodded and pushed again.

"I see the head." The doctor said with relief. "Just a few more."

Head. Push. Shoulders. Push. And like a miracle there she was, covered in blood and goo, but still the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. Ava collapsed into me, and I wrapped my arms protectively. The doctor eyed me. "Do you want to cut the cord?"

I shook my head. "No." I buried my face in Ava's hair as she cried into my chest. She did it. It was amazing. "She's so beautiful." I told her as I watched the staff check her airways and measure her. I grabbed her chin in my fingers. "I'm so proud of you."

I could see it in her eyes, though, it wasn't my approval she needed. It was never mine.

 Ava

I was euphoric. Maybe it was all the hormones, or the pain medication. Maybe it was just the feeling of my daughter against my bare chest. Our daughter. Dean and mine.

The bracelet around her wrist stated baby girl Winchester. It meant she belonged to me. I ran my finger along her nose. It was a smaller version of mine. But those tiny lips were all her father. She was pouting already in her sleep. How would I ever say no to her? She was tiny but the doctor assured me that after a few days we would be able to take her home. All of the drugs that we had given her to grow worked just as planned. She was only five pounds, but her lungs were working fine.

Sam was giving me one on one time with her. To bond. I could tell from the moment he saw her that he loved her. I loved him for that.

My sweet baby yawned, her tiny tongue sticking out. My heart squeezed in my chest.

I knew what her name would be the moment Sam wrapped his arms around me. I knew what I was missing.

"Hey." Sam said, poking his head in. "I got you a smoothie."

"Thanks." I said. "You can come in. I have something I want to tell you."

He moved into the door, almost having to duck from his height. His hair was tussled and he looked tired. He even had his buttons done up wrong on his flannel. He was a trooper.

He sat the smoothie down next to me. "Hey little warrior." He said, touching her cheek. She yawned in response. "She's all tuckered out." He said in awe.

"I know what her name is."

He looked at me with excitement. "Really? What did you pick?"

"I thought it was just Dean I was missing." I said running my fingers down her bare back. "But you made me realize that there was something else wrong." I sucked in my breath. "I wanted my mom, Sam. She should've been here, but she wasn't. So... her name is Eleanor Mary Winchester. Eleanor for my mom and Mary for yours. The Grandmas that she will never meet."

—————

Chapter Four, Tell Me How to be in This World

Get caught up!

Tag List:

@xjamiedennettx

[kusunogatari-a]

[ SasuHinaMonth Day Twenty-Four: Family ] [ @sasuhinamonth ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Uchiha Itachi, Hyūga Hinata ] [ SasuHina ] [ Verse: A Light Amongst Shadows ]

In the end...this is what matters most.

He’s been home a few years now...but home refers less to where he is, and more to where they are. His family. The few scraps left of a once-mighty clan, rebuilding and growing out of the cracked, blood-soaked ground of the compound of the Uchiha. Before the war - before his last stand began - he never imagined coming back here. Instead, Konoha had been slated for destruction. Repayment for what they took from him.

But now...Sasuke takes steps forward into a future he never foresaw. It’s not as it should be. So much is missing. And yet...there’s more than he hoped, once upon a time, when he first felt the thirst of vengeance like rising bile in his throat.

His brother. His cousin. Itachi’s children and wife. Not the perfect ending...but enough to give him hope for a future he once thought ripped from him.

The twins are four years old already - time really is flying. More than anyone else, Sasuke is soft with them. They, he swears, will have a better future than their namesakes. The sight of them always warms his heart. New Uchiha lives, nine years after the rest were taken...or assumed to be taken.

“...do you ever think about this, Sasuke?”

Tearing his eyes from his niece and nephew, Sasuke gives his brother a questioning glance. “...what do you mean?”

“Family.”

“...it’s all I think about.”

After a pause, Itachi chuckles, head bowing slightly with closed eyes. “No, not in regards to what we have...I mean a branch from you. Children. A spouse.”

The younger brother stiffens slightly. “...I…”

“I don’t mean to sound pressuring. I’m simply curious.” There’s a playful glint in Itachi’s eyes. “...that Hyūga officer you partner with seems...pleasant.”

“...Hinata’s fine.”

“Sasuke…”

“Look, I…” A hand combs back through his hair in a nervous gesture. “...I don’t know if...I could do...this.”

“...this…?”

“...be a father. Or a...a husband.”

“Why not?”

How to explain? “...I don’t know if I’m...if I’m...stable enough for that.”

Itachi’s brows furrow. “...do you fear you would hurt them?”

“No! I mean...I don’t…” Sasuke sighs curtly. “...I would never mean to. But I…”

“...you’ve gone through so much,” his brother murmurs. “...I understand. At times...being hardened for so long can make being soft seem...impossible.” His gaze moves out beyond the porch on which they perch. His children squeal as Shisui mock-fights with them, over-dramatically reacting to their blows. Or...his daughter’s, at least. His son looks more concerned than enthused.

“...but just as instinctive as combat may be for us, so too is love. If you were to find someone to call your partner...I’m sure you would do well by them. After all, if I know anything about you...you would first have to trust them implicitly. Surely, then, you’d have no reason to react poorly to them…?”

Sasuke seems to brood, also watching the scene atop the grass. “...consciously, sure. But...reflexes aren’t easy to tame. And I’m...I’m too strong to take that risk.” A palm comes to rest atop the cloth of his hitai-ate, wherein his Rinnegan hides. “...if I ever hurt them...I’d rather die. I’d never be able to live with myself.” The admission is quiet, a worry that’s weighed on him since returning to Konoha.

It’s Itachi’s turn to sigh, quiet as he mulls that over.

“Are you ever scared you’ll hurt them?”

“...no.” He turns to Sasuke, looking thoughtful. “...my biggest concern is not being able to protect them. And…” A hitch, as though debating his next words. “...I worry that I...may fall into old routines. Distance myself. Manipulate them as I see fit. My ego, when I was younger, led to me often subtly driving people to ends that would suit me. I don’t want that to happen...but old habits are hard to break. But, Sasuke…” His expression softens. “...I truly think you would do right by your family. Because...I feel that your desire to keep them safe would far outweigh your fears of doing them harm. Look at all you have done for your family. It is ingrained in you like an instinct. That, more than anything else, drives you and your actions. Therefore...I’m certain you would never lift a hand against your family, should you choose to have one. Neither consciously, nor unconsciously. But...it’s not required of you. Not by any means. What I want most for you is to be happy. Whether that be by yourself, or with someone you come to love. That is what is most important to me. To us.”

Quiet falls between them, and Itachi lets it go unfettered, seeing the gears turning in his brother’s mind.

...maybe Itachi is right. His last goal in life, now, is to protect what remains of his family. Surely that would come to encompass anyone else be brings into his life with intent to call them the same.

Hinata is...what is she? They spend time together, mostly due to their work with the police force. They see one another outside their rounds, but...there’s never been any crossing of the line between friendship and...anything else. Does she even feel that way about him? Could she?

True, they’ve lamented their pasts together, and she claims she no longer holds affection for Naruto. But surely there’s someone else. One of her teammates, maybe. After all, it’s a high statistic: teammates getting married happens more often than not. But though she mentions both Shino and Kiba often, there’s never been talk of dating...or would she reveal that to him?

...he doesn’t know how she feels.

He doesn’t know how he feels.

During his most formative years - puberty, being a teen - he had entirely different goals than most. No intentions to form bonds, let alone romantic ones. His priorities had been narrowly focused on avenging those he lost. He’s never had a relationship. Never kissed anyone...intentionally. At this point, he’s not even sure what romance is actually meant to be. He looks at his brother and his wife, and wonders if he could emulate that with someone else.

He’s struggled over the years to reconnect with his agemates. He’s on good terms with them all - or, at least, neutral. But none have truly stood out to him - not in that way, at any rate.

But when he thinks about it - truly considers the theory - it’s Hinata that first comes to mind. Does that...mean something? He enjoys her company. They work together seamlessly - they hardly even need to speak most days when things get intense. They just...react. Their battle chemistry developed quickly, and meshes well enough that he never has to question it. She’s quiet, but sweet...funny, in her own way. Unobtrusive. More often than not, they can simply sit in the silence together. Nothing else is needed but each other’s company.

At that...he makes up his mind.

Sensing the shift, Itachi glances to him curiously, watching as he stands. “...going somewhere?”

“Need to do something.”

“Don’t be late for dinner. You can bring her, if you’d like.”

Halfway through the door, Sasuke looks back to give his brother a suspicious glower before heading back through the house.

Staring for a moment, Itachi eventually chuckles to himself, looking back just in time to see Shisui heroically collapse, his daughter standing triumphantly over his corpse.

Walking swiftly through the village, Sasuke spreads his senses, looking for her soft lilac signature. It’s not long before he finds it, just exiting a yarn shop. Seeing him, Hinata comes up short, a bit startled. “Oh!”

“Hinata.”

There’s a blink. “Um...yes?”

For a moment he debates, letting her linger in silence with a curious tilt of her head. “...would you...like to have dinner with me?”

Another blink. Something alights in her expression, as though coming to a realization. After a pause of her own, she eventually replies, “...I...would like that very much.”

Well...it’s a start.

     Word count: 1335      Cumulative: 30,775      Still a day behind, but one of these days I’ll catch up xD Gotta run and get some things done, so not much to say this time around.      Go get her, Sasuke!

[siirensung]

commander nate shepard and...

          ashley williams. they immediately get along great and she really amuses him. she almost seems like the little sister he never had. he still feels a sense of command over her, performing as her CO, and taking that seriously, because he feels that treating her exactly as she earns (for better or worse) is what she deserves. letting her carve her own identity and reputation, leaving the rest aside.

          garrus vakarian. great friends, they agree on a lot of tactics and methods, but they bring out the worst in each other. nate encourages garrus’ plans for vengeance and enables him to carry them out. they’re a formidable force, but there’s not much constructive character growth on either side. they need a supervisor.

          kaidan alenko. someone who really makes nate stop. quiet, strong, dignified, and honorable, he’s someone different than what nate is used to, and he comes to appreciate it. kaidan negates nate’s nature, balancing his anger and making him rethink a situation and how to handle it. kaidan’s influence helps him be a better, kinder man. 

          liara t'soni. neutral, if not negative. they don’t have much in common to begin with, so they don’t get very close. in fact, nate doesn’t much like her in the first game. generally, he doesn’t like asari who meld with his mind, even if he agrees to it. it’s too invasive. comes down too hard on her in me2. can come to respect her in me3, with work. he admires her development and her maintenance as shadow broker, and simply appreciates a familiar face.

          tali'zorah vas normandy. initially, they bond through mechanic and engineer interests, but end up closer. he thinks she’s an idiot at first, a naive little girl who immediately lands herself in shit. but he figures out his resentment for her is because she has what he never did; shelter, a strong origin, options. once he gets over himself, he keeps her around. another person who makes him want to be a better man.

          urdnot wrex. admirable partner, a relationship of respect between two warriors who have seen some shit. nate isn’t looking for wrex’s approval, but also won’t betray him, and vice versa. nate respects that. he won’t make the first step of getting closer to him, but he wouldn’t be opposed to it.

          grunt. it takes a while for trust to grow, but nate understands him. he doesn’t let his guard down, but he generally likes krogans as a species. they’re straight forward. they work on a basis of strength and survival, which nate understands, because he was raised that way. nate acts more as mentor than father. doesn’t exactly trust him, grunt is too unpredictable.

          jack. greatly respects her and feels like they’re on similar wavelengths, but he’s not looking to get close to her. he wouldn’t be opposed to it, but they’re both too mistrustful. he likes her, but he has no reason to argue about why she should become close to him, because the ‘personal touch’ isn’t his thing. he figures action and proving himself through time will garner a bond, if one will form. he expresses her fondness for her by being a solid support system, but similar to garrus. they may not bring out the best in each other.

          jacob taylor. automatically wants to distrust him, but struggles to do so the more he talks to him. jacob’s intentions are pure, and he’s not blind, but as nate is struggling to justify working for cerberus, he takes jacob’s perspective on the whole thing: as long as cerberus is working on the collector threat, he’s on board. the second they stray ethically again, they’re gone. nate holds onto his resentment for a while, but he’s secretly appreciative of his perspective.

          legion. doesn’t trust it, and doesn’t want to. the idea of geth is too firmly planted in nate’s mind to really warm up to legion and keeps them strictly on a ‘commander, commanded’ basis. nate generally isn’t very fond of synthetics. he’s too old fashioned.

          miranda lawson. immediately hates her, and really doesn’t want to warm up to her, so he doesn’t. he (unfairly) places all his frustration and self-disgust onto her, and hates her even more for wanting to put a chip in her. he’s paranoid; he doesn’t fully believe that she didn’t and isn’t just biding her time. even when she shows her vulnerable side, he doesn’t trust her, but he will protect her. he may unwillingly give her a second chance.

          mordin solus. unsettled by him, but otherwise ignores him. isn’t quite sure what to think about his very settled opinions on the right and wrong of the genophage, so he’ll argue and then leave. he stays on a very professional, almost cold basis.

          samara. doesn’t buy her dedication to her code, but approves of her results. sort of. he approves of justice at all costs, but she’s too meditative and spiritual for him to really like her. she’s disconcerting, and he’s uncomfortable. he can’t tell if she’s kind or cruel or harsh or gentle. to him, she seems almost synthetic.

          thane krios. similar to samara, he’s uninterested in his spirituality, and he sees the drell ‘out of body control’ experience to be a cop-out to avoid responsibility. nate has known many assassins, and thane is nothing like any of them. nate wants to yell at him, but also secretly is seeking answers from him. after all, nate is also a religious man.

          zaeed massani. alcoholic uncle who is too much like nate. they argue loudly and aggressively, but then if someone interrupts, they both say the same thing and are very annoyed by it. when they’re not arguing, they get along well. nate enjoys his amusing war stories and they share an interest in guns. nate is more comforted around his presence than most others, as a sense of familiarity. he doesn’t like zaeed’s refusal to fall in line under his command.

          edi. similar to legion, but he finds himself warming up a bit more to her. she’s synthetic, but she wants to understand independence and emotions and ‘human’ aspects. it makes her seem less machine, which he likes. he’s still not entirely comfortable, though.

          james vega. they hit it off right away and nate loves keeping him around almost everywhere. they speak the same language of meathead marine. james is a bit more heart of gold, whereas nate is a heart of gold under a heart of jerk. nate takes his n7 mentorship for james seriously and continuously pushes him to be better and take no shit and give no excuse. they both have a home in military life and nate ends up trusting james above most.

[fireandgloryrpg]

Congratulations Kcat and welcome! We’re so happy to accept your application to play Adriana Caninii with the faceclaim of Phoebe Tonkin in Fire & Glory RPG! We can’t wait to begin roleplaying with you so please remember to look over our checklist! 

OOC INFO:

Name: Kcat Age: 21 – April 04 Timezone: EST

Activity: I am both a senior year undergraduate student and an officer for my university’s ambassadors, so as I’m sure you’ll understand, I’m very busy. However, roleplay is my go-to stress reliever. I can typically manage to get on two to four nights a week and drill through replies. If things get extra crazy in real life, I’ll be sure to let you lovely admins know and request a hiatus if need be. Anything Else?: I HAVE MISSED ALL YOU LOVELY FUCKERS WHAT’S UP GUYS!!! MAN IT FEELS GOOD TO BE BACK ;D

OC APPLICATION:

Name: Adriana Caninii Age and Birthday: 24 years, 31 March 1993 Faceclaim: Phoebe Tonkin, Tay Jardine Heritage: Daughter of Mars, Legacy of Invidia Affiliation: Centurion of the Fourth Cohort, Cult of Romulus

Abilities: (omg pls erase my ramblings if/when you post because I just wanted to be super clear with each of these so that nothing came of as godmoddy because I would NEVER make that the intention :3 just throw your questions and stuff at me. y'all know i’m a real chill pill)

From Mars

telumkinesis: natural mastery of all weapons; ability to curse the weapons of opponents

odikinesis: can enhance or induce rage, hate, fear, and intimidation; can dispel “battle jitters” from others

From Invidia

Invidia is said to be the Roman name for Nemesis. In the PJO canon, Nemesis claims that she is known by the same name by both the Greeks and the Romans because revenge and justice is universal – which isn’t wrong. However, in much of Roman mythology, while Invidia is still associated with Nemesis, she is also seen as an independent goddess, one who differs than the Greek version of Nemesis in that she is primarily the goddess of envy and vengeance, along with the standard Nemesis’ qualities of revenge and justice. Invidia itself was a power that the Romans feared. Literally their term for envy, after winning a great battle, Roman soldiers would use talismans to protect themselves from Invidia, and for good reason. Envy was a sickness that could lead soldiers to craving more battles, more victories, and in their desirable wake, cause great harm in their pursuit of excessive glory. It could also turn the best of men into animals, friends turned enemies in conflict over a lover, a treasure, recognition. Invidia is also a goddess associated with the evil eye – like Nemesis’ ability to speak of one’s fate, only Invidia typically embodies the darker side of fate, bringing about her justice through curses, indirect manipulation, and supposedly even a little bit of “black magic.” (but far less on the magic bit, obviously)

Adriana’s mother is a daughter of Invidia, and as such, some of her powers have transferred down to Adriana, albeit at a lesser strength, variety, and level than in the case of her parent.

fascinare: ability to bewitch a person into an envious state with the express purpose of inducing conflict between that individual and others (this ability would take a bit of a toll on Adriana. Historically, it’s an actual power that the Romans feared, like invidia. It’s the sort of curse that plants a little seed of envy in someone’s heart. The caster, again, has no say over what results from this. They’re just drawing out what envious emotions a person might have deep down in the hopes that coaxing those emotions out will allow them to fester into a full-blown conflict by the affected’s hands. It’s not a quick process, but a slow one, and the results vary widely depending on the person. If they’re truly good at heart and generous, for example, this ability really wouldn’t affect them. It’s just stirring up what’s already there and what happens depends entirely on the individual and their pre-existing personal issues)  

poison tongue: venom can cast fascinare or cause mild nausea and dizziness (rarely unconsciousness) via a kiss (okay literally this amused me so much and I was dying to test it out as an ability. In a lot of lore, Invidia is said to have a tongue that’s actually poisonous – likely due to the fact that her symbolic animal is a snake – but obviously, that’s a little extreme for demigods and especially for legacies so I’ve watered it down to this – for one, Adriana would obviously have to engage in mouth to mouth contact to make this work (how awkward and uncomfortable for her lmao), and thus she realllly isn’t too fond of it. She’d have to use this in order cast any sort of fascinare power, but additionally, it could be used to disorient someone – as if a sudden unexpected kiss from a daughter of Mars isn’t disorienting enough – it’s not likely to cause someone to pass out unless Adri has to commit for some reason because it’s absolutely necessary. We’re basically talking a delirious effect, not so different from the dizziness and disorientation of being significantly drunk, and it doesn’t last very long. Maybe five minutes, ten if she’s lucky. If she can get along without having to use this ability, she will. It’s more of a dire need for escape sort of trick)

The Influence of Luna

Both Adriana and her cousin, Fergus Fitzgerald, share the same traces of blood from the goddess Luna via their great-grandfather, Aulus Caninii, a son of Luna. Of the two of them, it’s Fergus that is most affected if only due to his heritage as a son of Oceanus, as the sea and moon have always been closely aligned in the ebb and flow of the tides. For Adriana, this heritage brings little more than a slight influence of mood and preference for time of day. She is, by nature, more of a night person than a day person. Early mornings are especially miserable, but years in the Legion and the formation of a daily 5AM running habit have helped her to combat this fact. She feels her best and strongest at the apex of the full moon and her crummiest and most fatigued at the apex of the new moon. Unless someone was meticulously attentive to Adriana’s day-to-day patterns or had been told of this heritage by Adriana herself, it is highly unlikely they would recognize this behavior as anything of note. As such, Adriana does not claim outright to be a legacy of Luna because her effect on the daughter of Mars’ blood is so minimal.

Headcanons:

Ancient lineage and political powers aside, the Caninii are well-known for their talent of dog training. In the age of the Roman Empire, dogs were common companions beside men in battle. Adriana’s family has continued this tradition with pride. The Legion’s ‘war dogs’ are held at a training kennel near the stables in Camp Jupiter. Renzo, Adriana’s half-brother, is currently responsible for their training and upkeep, but Adriana often steps in to assist. She has only fully trained one dog thus far, and that is Septimus, her German Shepherd and inseparable partner.

Adriana’s most prized possession is her longsword, an heirloom that has been in her family for generations. At its original forging, the sword was named Servatrix, but Adriana has developed her own conventions and opinions that oppose a number of the Caninii’s long-held beliefs, and has subsequently changed its name to Grayclaw. The blade is forged of an imperial gold and silver alloy. The fusion of metals takes away from their overall effects, but provides the advantage of having both lethal elements on hand.

Biography:

Born to Livia of the family Caninii, Adriana has wealth, respect, and an ancient bloodline that has inevitably determined her future. She was raised in New Rome by her grandfather, who filled her head with tales of the great achievements of her forefathers as soon as she was old enough to understand them. He is a charismatic and brilliant man, but this family patriarch holds his kin to strict expectations.

Gaius made it clear to Adriana that she would be responsible for upholding their family’s glory and reputation. From an early age, the young Roman knew who she was and what she could do. She trained for hours each day in combat, weaponry, war strategy, Roman history – whatever was necessary to educate her as a proper soldier. But while these lessons came naturally to her, Adriana was wary of how her grandfather was crafting her to his ideals. Gaius is a Roman Senator, not a family man. He has political desires and an indomitable ambition. While he holds his advantages close, he is not inclined to treasure them. Adriana, like her family namesake, is a dog. Albeit a well-bred one. Gaius showed her off and trained her to be obedient, to come when called and to strike at his order. But Adriana was, and remains, resilient. Years of observing her grandfather’s tactics led her to develop some skills on her own. His little warrior learned how to play false appearances. Whenever Gaius was confident that his guidance was building toward his desired end, Adriana fed his belief, keeping her conflicting feelings and opinions to herself.

By the time she arrived at Camp Jupiter, Adriana was a hardened fighter. With high commendations from Gaius and several other elite members of New Rome’s society, she was assigned to the First Cohort. The rigorous training of the First not only developed the skills that she already possessed, but also nourished her true personality – something her grandfather had sought to suppress in order to maintain his control. Adriana is loyal yet independent, studious yet audacious, valiant, and though ruthless, fair. She’s not the type of person to judge at first glance and believes strongly in second chances.

But, when the Argo II attacked New Rome, the resulting damage shook the daughter of Mars into believing that her grandfather had been right all along – you can’t trust a graecus. The Battle at Half-Blood Hill had robbed Adriana of friends and allies, leaving her with a deepening malice toward their East Coast counterparts. She viewed the unification as a betrayal to those that she had lost and refused to stand for it.

Adriana’s change in attitude did not go unnoticed. Gaius picked up on the shift in his granddaughter and sought to seize the opportunity it presented. One night, he drew her away from camp and introduced her to the secret society lurking beneath the streets of New Rome. When she emerged early the next morning, Adriana was not only the dedicated soldier she had always been, but also the Cult of Romulus’ newest inductee.

Shortly after her induction, Adriana was appointed Centurion of the Fourth Cohort. The office suited her well. It gave her a chance to improve the skills of some of the Legion’s less popular legionnaires and, with the cohort’s sizable inclusion of Greeks, to keep an eye on the activities of the foreigners. However, as months of leadership turned to years, Adriana came to realize that despite the few upsets between the camps, the transfers from Camp Half-Blood weren’t actually all that different from the demigods of the Legion. They showed no signs of plotting against New Rome and Adriana had even begun to grow fond of them – Imagine that! A member of the Cult getting friendly with the enemy? She was lucky that her Cult companions passed it off as keeping their enemies close. Even so, the Cult tightened their grip on the daughter of Mars. She could hardly take a breath without them taking note. That leash has loosened since then, but Adriana is still walking a perilously thin line.

Adriana was seduced into the Cult of Romulus by their power and promises of reformation at a time when it seemed impossible to hold anything but malice toward the Greeks – a malice that she no longer possesses, a power that she doesn’t need, and a reformation that isn’t necessary. The true battle is not against one another but against the monsters and deific powers that threaten their livelihood. How could the city’s darker powers not see that the Roman demigods and their Greek counterparts are a far more formidable force together than divided? To the war strategist ingrained in in Adriana’s bones, this is common sense.

Adriana’s knowledge of the Cult’s existence coupled with her opposing opinions is a loaded gun. If she could drop out of the Cult she would do so in a heartbeat, but you can’t just leave a cult. Especially not one so prominent and powerful as the Cult of Romulus. They have ways of keeping their wayward members in line, as she already knows, and speaking against them publicly – or worse, revealing them – would be suicide. Adriana is doing her best to remain a neutral party in quiet defiance, but not all the Cult’s demands are so easy to ignore…

Yet while she keeps to the shadows in her disagreement with the Cult, the daughter of Mars has not been as subtle in regards to her kin. The Caninii clan’s esoteric convictions and unjust manipulation for personal gain have built them an empire within New Rome, but the power they wield is abusive and Adriana won’t have it. Wielding her status as the single direct descendant in her family line and the next head as she would a weapon, Adriana is determined to reshape the conventions of her house. If put toward good rather than gain, the wealth and influence of her family could be an avenue for positive change, but Adriana is a warrior, not a politician; and without allies and support, she can’t expect to enforce any alterations to her kin’s ancient dynasty anytime soon.          

For now, Adriana is treading lightly. Balance isn’t easily maintained – anyone with Invidia or Nemesis’ blood in their veins knows that all too well. However, with the right pressures, sharpest moves, and great patience, fate can sometimes be swayed in one’s favor. Adriana does her best to be an honorable leader and a fierce soldier, appearing ever the pure, loyal Roman until she has her chance to tear away from the destiny that has been fashioned for her all her life. And when she finally gets it, she’ll do what she does best. Fight.

Para Sample (idek what this is lmao I tried):  

Adriana’s senses went to the wayside as she stood in the midst of the crowd. The heavy beat of the music that projected from the stage pulsed across the field, stoking the spectators’ energy in the late night hour. At the high volume of the rock band’s set and the surrounding exclamations of enjoyment, hearing anything else beyond the event was nigh impossible. Adriana had gotten swept up in the tide of it all. With a beer in her hand and a friend at her side, she couldn��t imagine a better evening; and she didn’t want to, because as soon as she wished it, her fun was likely to end. The Fates were relentless pranksters in that way.

The concert had been Dani’s idea. The Second Cohort legionnaire had snatched the centurion to the side between training sessions and to lay out their plan for a brief escape. Adriana, always willing to step outside the boundaries of her lifelong home, had eagerly accepted. She could always rely on the legacy of Hades to come up with the most entertaining – and sneakiest – schemes. It didn’t even matter to Adriana that she wasn’t familiar with the band. Between the political stuffiness of New Rome and the responsibilities of Legion leadership, the supposed demigod sanctuary could become a suffocating environment. Adriana would take any opportunity to step aside, let loose, be herself, and just breathe.

So there she was, jumping up and down among a mob of strangers and releasing her pent up stress through a non-violent outlet. As the music tapered down for the band’s transition into the next song, the daughter of Mars took a moment to rest, chuckling through panting breaths at the dark-haired person beside her. “You’re right,” she grinned. “They’re not bad.”

“Not bad?” The legacy of Hades scoffed in mock hurt. “For all the trouble it took to bring you out here, you would claim that these beautiful, Muse-embodied humans are not bad?” Dani clicked their tongue disapprovingly. “Remind me never to invite you to join me on my ventures again.”

Adriana shook her head at the short legionnaire. Despite being the sage, Dani was a good six inches smaller than her, at the least. Not that their height made them any less ferocious. Dani was a wild soul and Adriana admired her temperament greatly. “Hey, don’t look at me,” she shrugged with an indifferent look down at the other. “You’re the one who took me out to see a band I’ve never heard of in my life. It’s not my fault I don’t have a reference to judge their music.”

Dani groaned through an exasperated sigh. “Fiiiiine. You’re excused.” Around them, the fresh beat of a new song began to shake the ground. “You’re lucky I like you, Romaíos.”

Adriana had taken that line as the close to their conversation, ready to sink back into the sounds and the madness, but just as she was teetering on the height of that edge, a pulse beneath her feet caught her off guard. No one else appeared to have felt it even though it was off beat to the rest of the tune, and there was a telltale prickling sensation that ran down the centurion’s spine. She stopped moving, eyes attentive, feeling focused, and again felt the thump resonate across the ground. In an instant, entertainment had turned to vigilance.

“Dani, stop.” Adriana reached out and placed a firm hand on the Greek’s shoulder.

Dani hesitated a brief moment before they complied. They pouted up at the Roman and opened their mouth to object, but then they felt it too, right down to their bones. The lightheartedness faded from their expression and a hand ventured toward the holster strapped to their thigh in preparation. “Where is it? Do you see anything?” they asked as their honey-colored eyes swept around them – which achieved nothing considering their height.

Adriana fiddled with the ring brace that lived on her right middle finger, sharp eyes piercing through and over the people around them. “I don’t know… it’s pretty hard to see around– wait.” Out of the corner of her eye, Adriana caught a flash of movement. Nothing concrete, but when spotting shadows, it was usually best to assume it was something rather than leave it be and get stabbed in the back for it. “Come on,” she stepped in front of Dani, starting to lead them out of the crowd.

Not seconds prior to the two of them stepping onto open ground, a guttural screech cut through the air. Both demigods snapped their heads to the left and were greeted by the misfortunate sight of a scorpion with a van-sized body. “Every fucking time…” Adriana growled under her breath and swept her thumb over the side of her ring, cueing the accessory to spin around her finger and break off. It extended into a hilt and a blade which she twirled in her hand with practiced ease. In a similar fashion, Dani equipped themself with a pair of curved knives. Adriana looked over to them and the pair shared a silent transfer of information. They knew each other well enough by now to coordinate their attacks without the distraction of words.

I take front, you take back?

Yeah, let’s go.

At Dani’s finalizing nod, Adriana turned to the monster and grabbed its attention with a high-pitched whistle. “Hey ugly!” The beast hissed, shuffling around on its spindly legs to lock eyes with the young warrior. “This what you’re looking for?” She stepped forward once with arms spread to taunt it, and sure enough, it lurched forward with another screech.

Adriana reinforced her stance, standing her ground until the scorpion only had a few seconds of distance left to close. At her side, the legacy of Hades slipped into the nearest shadow and a grin split across the centurion’s lips.

Time to go to work.

[dw817-dailymotion]

dw817′s Dailymotion

Who am I ? I'm dw817 and I write imaginative books and stories and upload rare videos besides. For a summary and listing of all my current works, read on. To see what videos I have available for you, skip below:

FUTURE BARRIER My primary work. What happens when a teenage boy and girl come across a piece of technology from one-million years in the future ? A grand adventure: Future Technology, Unrequired Love, and Absolute Vengeance. A clear one for both teen and adult literature. Read all chapters ONLINE now ! Future Barrier 1st Book, 74-chapters (complete !) Future Barrier 2nd Book, 71-chapters (complete !) Future Barrier 3rd Book, 99-chapters (complete !) Future Barrier 4th Book, underway, new chapter every Monday Future Barrier Character Synopsis, 8-chapters (complete !)

THE NANCY PRINCIPLE My secondary work. This is an interesting bit of writing. The first book is non-fiction so it recounts what actually happens when I was hired to work for the government in a room full only of WOMEN. Each teenage girl trying to outstink the others in their perfumes and outdo the others in their business outfits. And then I show up, a teenage boy really, and how they treated me there and WHO they hired to keep me in my place. A clear one for both teen and adult non-fiction literature. Later book is fictional as I grew rather fond of my female boss. Read all chapters ONLINE now ! The Nancy Principle 1st Book, 33-chapters (complete !) The Nancy Principle 2nd Book, 35-chapters (complete !)

STAR WARS - THE FORCE WITHIN Cleary a fan-fiction story of quite a few chapters. I address the issue of what happens between Episode IV (A New Hope) and Episode V (The Empire Strikes Back). I mean we're still on Yavin in the first Star Wars movie, then suddenly we are on the ice planet of Hoth with no interim video to explain - what happened ? This then is my interpretation of how our intrepid adventurers of Luke, Leia, and Han are forced to leave Yavin to Hoth - with quite a bit of deviltry from Darth Vader himself even though the Death Star has been destroyed. A clear one for teen literature. Read all chapters ONLINE now ! Star Wars - The Force Within, 28-chapters (complete !)

SOME ADDITIONAL MULTI-CHAPTERED WORKS Sometimes you just can't get enough of a good thing and have to write it out and share it with others in additional chapters and pages. Here are some other books I have written that do indeed contain multiple chapters for their subject matter. Read all chapters from all books ONLINE now ! Wit And Wisdom, Campfire Tales, Points To Ponder, Double Trouble, Saturday Matinee, The Concession Stand, The Theologian's Cafe, Zachary Smith - Ruler Of The Universe, The Dream Machine, Dream Diary, Gosh-A-Lotta Stamps, End Days, BLOG, Writer's Cafe Wizardry. More later !

WANT MORE ? Try out these other short-stories, writings, and articles I've written - all available to read ONLINE now ! I N D E X, PROSE AND COMMS OF RPGS, 50-Look And Look Again, Effective Forums [1] [2], You Think Your Luck Is Bad, Ninety Percent Off, When The Sky Caught Fire, Lost In Translation, Sea Monkey (Age restricted), My First Uploaded Google Play Application, Look On The Bright Side, Solar Eclipse (08-21-17), 45000 Hits, A Morse Of A Different Color, Reaching A Human Being At 2-1-1, What Do You Dream, Fresh Peaches For Donald Trump, A Halloween To Remember (Age restricted), Selling My First Videogame, Halloween 2017, Swim Ring Exercises, Why I Program, How To Fish (A Short Story About Helping Others), Building SRTs From DVDs, Personality Test, I Am INJT, Happy 4th Of July (2015), Happy New Year 2015, Merry Christmas 2014, Happy Birthday Advice, Leonard Nimoy Dies At 83, Dating Advice, Alien Rescue, My Happiest Memory, Kids Gallery Halloween, Teen Gallery Halloween, The Misunderstood Dragon, Hear Is To Your Health, The Blue Rose, The Paradox Of Turning Clocks, Tribute To Alice In Wonderland (Age restricted), The Price Of War, Why Is A Raven Like A Writing Desk, What Is A RPG, Anime - A Kaleidoscope Crash Course (Age restricted), Assholes R Us (Age restricted), Legends, The Fairy Lipstick, Outworld, The Power Of Doubt, Drowning In Ads, Access Denied, Online Blocking, Decisions Decisions, My Guardian, The Riddle Of Religion, I Hate Snow, The Prophet Of Profit, Service With A Smile, Why I ♥ Writer's Cafe, Little Escape Artist, Me From A To Z, Where Were You God. More later !

You are Earth visitor #

This super-rare and very family-friendly TV series features Juliet Mills as the Nanny who takes care of three children. And one has to wonder if all of the amazing things she is capable of. Is it truly magic as most people believe ? Or is it just love ?

Prudence has a nightmare with a monster named Wiblet, and Nanny helps her overcome her fears.

Butch is negatively influenced by a "hip" kid when the Professor misses another one of his activities.

A new girlfriend of the Professor thinks that Butch and Prudence are not grounded in reality and should be involved in her children's therapy group. Butch tests whether there is a tooth "elf" by not telling his father when he loses a tooth.

Hal gets a telescope for his birthday but Butch is the one who discovers a new comet.

Nanny suggests a family picnic on a lovely Spring day. The family members all have other ideas until their plans are mysteriously thwarted.

The Professor gives Nanny driving lessons as the pair prepare for a second household car.

Nanny and the children's rescue of some ducklings leads to trouble for Nanny.

Waldo finds a dinosaur bone and buries it in the yard. Nanny and the children's hunt for a rose bush eating gopher uncovers Waldo's treasure and results in a dig for more !

Nanny and the children stage a protest to stop the city from cutting down a favorite tree for a road expansion project.

Professor Everett receives a fabulous job offer from Astrodynamics, but it means moving to Astroville. The children don't want to leave their home, but put a brave face on for their father's sake.

The Professor is contacted out of the blue by an old college girlfriend and isn't sure he's ready to see her again.

Hal feels too much pressure to complete various projects and school work, with a big science competition being foremost, it's making him irritable and miserable. Nanny offers a good luck piece, that acts like a magic amulet that restores his confidence so much he no longer worries at all.

[ Willy McBean And His Magic Machine ]

Little Willy McBean joins up with a Mexican monkey named Pablo to travel back in time and stop the evil Prof. von Rotten from changing history.

[ Nosferatu ]

Vampire Count Orlok expresses interest in a new residence and real estate agent's wife. Enjoy this remastered edition of one of the oldest and creepiest silent horror films of all time. Nosferatu.

These aren't your seemingly average cute little girls. No, they each have a unique way of handling every day life's little problems by TRANSFORMING into new and amazing vehicles ! Please enjoy all 4-episodes of this rare and hard-to-find mini-series.

Mickey Mouse meets Mickey Mouse in this charming and animated classic tale of mistaken identity. It's your riches to rags story.

This spunky little gal from Nevada has vivid daydreams that teach her so very much about the world around her. In this episode, she imagines herself to be a dancing princess.

Everyone's favorite little daydreaming girl runs into an interesting situation where - something stinks. And we don't mean figuratively.

A marvelously done stop-motion animation featuring truly likeable characters with all their quirks and kinks. A lonely deaf taxidermist falls in love with a withdrawn and blind woman.

Done in the style of Scooby-Doo, this Hanna Barbera series features an animated Charlie Chan the amazing detective and his family of all ages which consist to assist.

Today's Chan episode is a mystery about baseball and a famous player for the game who has been kidnapped.

If you're looking for Hentai and Panchira, look no further. This very silly series has plenty of kinky panty-shots, ludicrous fan-service, and action and adventure besides. This pilot episode is entitled, "Beautiful Agent."

Agent Aika continues this kinky fan-service series with the episode, "Naked Mission."

Very funny and very British Angry Kid gets into all kinds of adventures in this live-action mini-movie which features some very clever stop-motion animation and over-the-top incidents between him and his devilishly intelligent little sister.

It's the classic cartoon of cat versus mouse except in this case it is the anteater versus the ant with some hilarious situations between the two.

Who will win ? The Tortoise or the Hare ? Find out in this amusing upgrade to the classic original tale.

Join now with four elite Galaxy Rangers with unique abilities defend law & order among the space colonies and protect humanity from the evil Crown Empire.

These are the amazing Herculoids. This animated series features Zok, a flying space dragon. Igoo, a rock ape. Tundro, a ten-legged four-horned rhinoceros. Gloop and Gleep, two protoplasmic creatures able to change shape. And finally the Herculoids family themselves, Zandor, the leader, Tara, his wife, and Dorno, their son.

Josie and her cartoon friends go on adventures that is out of this world. In this opening episode we find them landing on the planetoid Zelc and encounter a creature named Bleep. At the same time, Josie is kidnapped by an alien named Karnak, a deposed ruler who is intent on reconquering the populace of Zelc.

The Pussycats land on the planet Arcobia, where they try to help expose the corrupt Prime Minister Rulo as the true thief of a device that is very important to the planet.

A classic stop-motion animation film about your Forest Ranger's and Fire Fighter's favorite friend. It's Smokey Bear !

Three choice episodes linked together make-up this rare and interesting animated police series that takes place in futuristic Detroit where crime is dealt with by mechanical justice. It's ROBOCOP !

[ Daydreamer The Movie ]

An anthology of a combination of live-action and stop-motion animation fairy tales by Hans Christian Andersen: "The Little Mermaid," "The Emperor's New Clothes," "Thumbelina," and "The Garden of Paradise."

This tells the classic tale of the hard working ants and the not so hard working grasshopper. The question is, who is ready to survive when old man Winter comes around ?

One of the first videos I've posted on Daily Motion so many years ago. I'm keeping it though because I hate to get rid of anything.

[chroniclesofawkwardness]

Insertive

“Hey beautiful, can I buy you dinner,” he said to the girl walking in the opposite direction and on the other side of Dunavska Street. I wasn’t part of the interaction, but I was so embarrassed at his words that could I feel blood either rushing to or draining from my face. Whether it bubbled beneath my cheeks or pooled at my feet, I couldn’t believe he’d been so bold as to yell out his invitation to a complete stranger from such a distance. This was something I’d never had the guts to do because I was too busy living in my own head. 

“How can you just come out and say something like that,” I’d ask Daniel each time I’d witness him approach a stranger and suggest a date.

“You just need to be more insertive,” he’d say. “Insertive? You mean assertive,” I’d correct him. 

The first time I heard him use this word of his own creation, the English teacher in me died a little, but I quickly gave up on pointing out his mistakes. Daniel most likely understood the point I was making, but he couldn’t have cared less. He’d just look through me with a blank expression on his face, his attention focused a thousand yards behind me, on something only a former soldier could see.

Regardless of which direction my blood flowed when he spoke, part of me was envious of his direct approach to women. I thought Daniel and I couldn’t have been more different. As a soldier, he told me, he’d once been built like a brick shithouse; a shithouse whose dream of serving in the Special Forces had been shattered because his arm got fucked up after spending hours in a prone position with a rifle in the field of Kosovo. Shithouse? Me? I couldn’t even medically qualify for military service. Daniel openly stated his desire for revenge on the doctor he blamed for derailing his military career. I’d silently curse the doctor who delivered me for taking me off oxygen too soon, or my dad for not being like the ones I saw on television while we lived under the same roof.

Daniel wasn’t concerned about what my dad said to me when I was I was six years old. He didn’t mind if a woman he’d randomly asked to dinner from across the street just kept walking. His biggest complaint was that he didn’t know what to do with downtime, something we had more than our fair share of. 

At my boss’s recommendation, I’d taken Daniel in sight unseen. He needed a roof over his head, so I agreed to let him stay at my place. I had space since my roommate at the time was pursuing a modeling career, riding the cock carousel, or both in Belgrade. I hadn’t seen her for at least a month, and though I knew she could walk in at any moment, I didn’t give a shit. All I really knew about Daniel before meeting him for the first time was that he’d worked with my boss at an American consulate in Germany when both were in the Army, and he’d ben living there on some sort of pension that was the result of his arm injury. He’d hit a rough patch with his wife, and even though he’d miss his daughter like crazy, he and his unapologetic sexual appetite were driving in a station wagon full of hard cases to Serbia to either try something different, or relive his glory days. 

Daniel’s insatiable aversion to downtime led him to realize that my boss was screwing us over long before I did. The only phrase he seemed to utter more often than “Hey beautiful...” or “It is what it is” was “I knew I should have gone to the Philippines. I have people there.” I didn’t ask if his people were ex-Army, ex-cons, or just expats avoiding this expensive American life on islands most Americans couldn’t find on a map. If I didn’t ask, I couldn’t know, and I figured ignorance would keep me safe for a while. If Daniel craved action, I was just happy to be at the party. Having tunnel vision to light your way will do strange things to a man, whether he sees the light at the end as a beacon of personal freedom, or a signal of an oncoming train.

As much as I tried to pretend Daniel and I were different, we had more in common than I cared to admit. Both of us were searching for something. Both of us bought in to promises from our boss that were filled with more hot air than substance. We both had reasons to be angry with doctors over medical mistakes. 

For years, I couldn’t decide whether I wanted nothing more than to separate myself from my experiences with him or embrace them through writing. All I could say for sure was that I wanted, as much as I needed, to make sense of them. Occasionally, I think of Daniel as my Tyler Durden, an alter ego like the one from Chuck Palahniuk’s Fight Club that I used to experience things my conscious mind would not allow me to. Of course, Daniel and I weren’t one and the same person, but I allowed his influence over me to create a different persona -- a more insertive me -- that could switch on at any time.

In one particularly telling episode, I needed money because my teaching salary hadn’t come out from under table yet, and the savings I had back in the States was either running low or totally gone. Such was the life of a substitute English teacher. My phone could make any number of sounds beckoning me to any school at any moment, but I never knew when or if I’d be paid. Daniel was in the kitchen; I was about to go to the small bathroom at the top of the stairs. By chance, I looked down into a greenish vase that had somehow ended up under the staircase. The vase had become the final resting place of black bra my roommate had discarded after a night of partying. “Bitch,” I said to myself as I picked it up, half expecting a matching pair of panties to land at my feet -- she had a reputation for not wearing them, as Daniel and I had discovered one night while scrolling through photos on my digital camera -- but that didn’t happen. Instead, I saw something glisten: a ring. In a wave of emotion cresting somewhere between lust, jealousy, and a thirst for vengeance, I decided to take the diamond to a jeweler to see how much I could get for it. 

I was unaccustomed to being so sure that I wanted to be so bad. But at that moment, I wanted my carefree party-girl roommate to suffer, to lose, to lack something -- anything -- at a time when she wanted for nothing. She was technically a student at the University of Novi Sad, but she’d openly bragged to me about her family paying off her professors to give her credit for attending classes she had no interest in. She lived off monetary support from her father, who worked at a food processing plant, and countless other male sponsors who wanted nothing more than a shot at the pussy she’d so accidentally-on-purpose displayed for my camera. I, on the other hand, wasn’t sure when my phone would ring again, which could mean someone needed me to teach a class, or was just curious if I still existed.

“Let’s sell this shit,” I told Daniel. 

Like I said, I knew she could’ve come through the door at any moment, but this was also one of those rare moments when I truly didn’t give a fuck. 

It was awesome.

Daniel did some of his customary “Hey beautiful! Can I buy you dinner” approaches  as we got closer to a jewelry store. As usual, they made me so uncomfortable that I hoped I’d throw up in my mouth a little so I’d have an excuse to look away. But then, between thrusts of sexual intent, he said something I’d never heard anyone say before:

“Do you want me to switch on?”

“What does that even mean?” I asked.

Almost instantly, and maybe through the work of his own Tyler Durden, he started treating the diamond I was carrying like his personal protectee. He began walking much closer me, and constantly scanning the horizon for any threats. Maybe he was expecting a piano to fall from the sky, or a pigeon to waddle too close. It was like I had my own bodyguard, but this one couldn’t be abated by a few notes from Whitney Houston. If consumers gave in and bought the soundtrack to The Bodyguard within a few bars of I Will Always Love You, Daniel’s resolve to be a real bodyguard only intensified with every step. 

When we stepped into a jewelry store, I awkwardly tried to explain to the man behind the counter why we were there. Daniel didn’t speak Serbian, so he just kept scanning our surroundings for ballsy pigeons, falling pianos, gypsies, or dangers of his own creation foolish enough to try to enter the space around me or the diamond. The man behind the counter took out one of those magnifiers you only see in jewelry stores and looked closely at the specimen I’d presented him. My stomach turned with anticipation, almost in sync with his hands as they turned the ring from side to side inspecting it. I hoped he’d give me some good news, the kind I’d almost forgotten existed. I hoped being able to sell the diamond would mean I wouldn’t have to worry about paying rent, bills (at least for a little while), or money from teaching that may or may not come out from under the table on time. However, life in the Balkans had also taught me to prepare for anything, especially disappointment. 

When his eyes finally came up to meet mine, I was so nauseous that I surprised myself by not throwing up right in his face.

“This is cubic zirconia,” he said.

My heart (and stomach) sank. You’d have thought I’d just seen Daniel make one of his trademark approaches, or get slapped by a woman whose meathead boyfriend in a military haircut, dark sunglasses, and year-round track pants had seen the whole thing crash and burn from a distance. This was worse. This was reality slapping me. Even Daniel’s switched on personal protection skills couldn’t save me from the hard truth that our little adventure had been for naught. Part of me wanted to rub his face in it, like an owner to a dog that shits where it shouldn’t. I’d wanted to do the same to my dad for years but I’d never had the guts. I was afraid of what would happen if I stood up for myself. Desperation makes friends of enemies and enemies of friends.  

I probably made more than one remark to Daniel about how his hyper assertiveness and aggressiveness reminded me of my dad. He’d just dismiss the comparison and start talking about how it wasn’t fair to a man to compare him to another man. Whether I wanted to hear it or not, I think he was right. It was his style that I wasn’t was used to. He’d notice something I did or didn’t say or do, make a direct remark about it, and tell me I should fix it. I remember thinking: Is this how men communicate with each other? Why does it strike me as so strange? Is this feeling what you feel when you belong to a generation of men raised by women, a generation conditioned to please them at home, in school, and throughout adulthood? Then you wonder why those same behaviors women taught you repel them in the realm of courtship?

At the end of the day, I attributed his assertiveness to military training and told myself that neither training nor assertiveness was something I’d ever have. But, if I’m being completely honest, Daniel didn’t begin my insertive journey, he just amplified it when a swift kick in the ass was exactly what I needed. I’d tried to go my own way as far back as 2001 when I started studying the story of Yugoslavia. It was just supposed to be a nice little fuck you from me to my dad. Since he didn’t know anything about it, I threw myself into it as a way of trying to escape from his shadow. I did so without really nailing down my why behind it, without looking into my own darkness instead of running from it.  

I’d begun developing my own version of Tyler Durden from the moment I set foot in what was then Serbo-Croatian class, where my teacher didn’t speak a word of English for forty-five minutes on the very first day. I didn’t have a clue what was going on, but I decided I’d stick with it. His personality and positivity rubbed off and me, so I started trying to emulate him, another louder, more forceful, and seemingly happier me began to emerge. The split between the English-speaking part of me and the Serbo-Croatian one was only intensified by the fact I could speak Serbo-Croatian with only a very small group of people. I felt an almost instant bond with people I barely knew as soon as I’d discover that the language was something we shared either by choice or accident. I could hide my infant Tyler from my family and friends who’d known me before 2001, but I couldn’t hide the stunted-growth Tyler from Daniel in 2008.

When I’d visited Serbia in 2003 and 2006, I’d always known when I was coming home, and where my home was; I’d felt like I was on vacation. By the summer of 2007 I knew neither, and the vacation mystique was long gone. I was actually living among the same people who’d experienced war, the rise and fall of a civil religion, more wars, and a bombing intended to slap them out of the madness. I was living with no direction home -- as Mr. Dylan would say -- among people who had every reason to be bitter about the hand that fate had dealt their country. I had my own reasons to be pissed off too. (Maybe that’s why I identified with them so well.) Yet they still called me komšija whenever I walked into a mom-and-pop grocery store like the one my great-grandfather ran, and shared whatever they had with me no matter how much or little there was to go around.

With the benefit of hindsight, I can see that my Yugoslav journey started out because I thought of myself as a victim of circumstances, or at the very least someone who needed an escape from them. I’ve said many times, and probably more often than necessary, that I chose to study the Yugoslav idea because I wanted to do something different than what I thought my dad wanted for me. If I created my Tyler because I needed a way to cope with my anger over the expectations and actions of my father, I finally confronted my Tyler for the first time when Daniel showed up at my door. I may never subject myself to military training, or be insertive enough to ask random strangers to dinner from across the street. This doesn’t mean I shouldn’t draw lines in the sand that I will not cross, or that I can’t hold myself accountable for my actions as much as my inactions like Daniel and Tyler would. 

When Daniel came to live with me, it was like living with my dad all over again, whether he wanted it to be or not. This time, I couldn’t get lost in my music like I had as a teenager whenever dad would make me angry by just shutting down instead of dealing with why he’d shut down in the first place. Since my American life had gone away to another place most Americans couldn’t find on a map, I had no choice but to confront both men and what they represented to me. You might say Daniel bombed my ego to slap me out of my comfort zone, pity party, or whatever was going on in head at the time. One part of me hates him for it, another will always be grateful. 

He taught me how to embrace my dark side, something I wish I’d learned a long time ago. He showed me, in a direct and forceful way, the benefits of owning your past experiences while making new ones. Thousands of miles from almost everything and everyone I’d ever known, that’s exactly what I needed.