#the hair and jewelry and first time designing armour

[echo-bleu]

But the jewel burned the hand of Maedhros in pain unbearable; and he perceived that it was as Eönwë had said, that his right thereto had become void, and the oath was in vain.

[ID: Digital painting of Maedhros holding (and being burned by) the Silmaril. He's seen in profile on a background of mountains with lava rifts in them and a reddish sky with clouds. He is pale-skinned, wearing full armour and his long red hair is partly braided, with a copper circlet and a number of copper earrings and an earcuff. He is holding the Silmaril in his right hand, hunched over, while his left arm, the hand missing, is resting against his ornamented sword. He is crying and seemingly in pain.]

And close-ups because I've put so much effort in the details and Tumblr's compression is ugh. [ID: two close-ups of the painting above.]

[gillytweed]

Y’all wanna hear about the baby superhero team my brain decided needed to exist?

Yeah you do!

So, I’ve been on a superhero kick lately, specifically DC characters cause I’m kinda tired of Marvel, and my brain decided “what’s the harm in making a superhero OC?” Turns out the answer to that is making an entire team, side characters, a whole world, and lore. 

So far, I have the team solidly figured out. Said team lives in a world where superheroes have been around for while (think Young Justice cartoon timeframe in the grand scheme of superhero timelines). People with superpowers aren’t uncommon, so of course a superhero profession surfaced. 

On the team, we have Witchboy, a “magic” user, Nightbolt, an unpowered archer/tech hero, Karma, Damage Enhancement ability, aka can take damage and send it back at their opponent even stronger, Ibis, presumably a teleporter, Frost, Iceman but spikier, and Saber, an unpowered sword user. 

Nightbolt, Frost and Saber are Legacy Heroes. Aka, they got into heroing through family or personal connections. Meanwhile, Witchboy, Karma and Ibis all have their own reasons for joining a superhero team. 

Putting stuff below the cut so I don’t get people shakin’ their canes at me. 

General Character profiles

Witchboy  Civilian name: Howl Melas (Not their birthname. They chose to have go by a different name for reasons) Ethnicity: Very White, with ancestry all over Europe. Basically a European smoothie Pronouns: They/Them Mentor: Mystic (Sometimes Nightwatcher)

Powers: If I have to choose an already existing hero, I’d say their powers are the most like Raven’s from Teen Titans at a glance. Their powers are based on something I call Kinetic Algorithms, which is basically intense mental visualization paired with specific movements/muscle memory to channel energy into different effects. A list of their basic abilities at their introduction would be short distance teleportation, force fields, levitation, and a basic force blast. 

Description: Civilian attire usually consists of a hoodie and workout pants, or dark jeans, T-shirt, light jacket and a beanie to hide their silver hair (it was originally brown, but turned silver as their abilities surfaced). Their Hero suit is black/dark indigo with silver trim, and resembles a sleeveless hoodie (with the hood having a bit more structure so it doesn’t flap everywhere and get in the way) and fitted pants. Both padded for basic protection. They also have fingerless glove/gauntlet sort of things that contain a small communicator and basic GPS system.

Personality: Comes off as dark and brooding, but in reality is having an internal anxiety attack. They want to do their best to help, but often gets tripped up by overthinking, thus they default to not doing anything so they don’t make things worse. 

Nightbolt Civilian Name: Edana “Eddie” Cochran Ethnicity: Scottish Pronouns: She/Her Mentor: Broadhead

Powers: Got none but kicks ass anyway. Her primary weapon is the bow and arrow, but she’s also proficient in hand to hand and a few other melee weapons. She’s also the tech wiz of the group, and the only one who’s passed the simulator to be allowed to pilot the dropship. A decent acrobat as well.

Description: Civilian attire is usually jeans, and one of those leather jackets that are also a hoodie sort of deal. Her hair is red, and cut short into an undercut. Her Hero suit is black with red accents. It’s similar to Witchboy’s in that it’s also sleeveless, but it’s more of an armoured vest. No hood, as she prefers a domino mask. 

Personality: Easily the leader of the team, as she’s the most mature, despite not being the oldest. Being a Legacy Hero, she’s very aware of how her performance reflects on her mentor, so she does her best at all times, even when it’s clearly leading to burn out. 

Karma Civilian Name: Ethnicity: Not sure yet, but def white passing Pronouns: She/Her Mentor: Peacebringer (sorta)

Powers: Damage Empowerment. She takes damage then amplifies it and sends it back several times stronger. 

Description: Loves muscle T’s and booty shorts, cause when you worked for the muscles she’s got, you deserve to show them off. Has long blond hair that’s usually pulled up into a ponytail. Hero suit is basically full body armour, as she needs to get hit to hit back. Colours are blue and a yellowish gold. 

Personality: A Himbo, but with Street Smarts. At first comes off as cocky, flirtatious, and extremely self confident almost to the point of arrogance, she’s actually quiet sweet and thoughtful when it comes to her friends. She will also drop kick you into the sun if you’re a dick. Shares a braincell with Saber. 

Ibis Civilian Name: Kymani “Ky” Lukman Ethnicity: African Egyptian Pronouns: He/Him Mentor: Phase

Powers: Supposedly a teleporter :p

Description: The most handsome black man y’all have ever seen. Too bad for y’all he’s an aroace king and loves it. Civilian attire is nice Henley's and jeans. His Hero suit is black with gold accents that resemble ancient Egyptian jewelry, like the Usekh collar and the gold cuff like bracelets. 

Personality: This dudes just vibing. Probably the only one of the group who can process his emotions in a healthy manner. He’s calm, relaxed, and usually unbothered with what’s happening around him. This can turn into apathy in some cases, however. 

Frost Civilian Name: Andri Bylur Ethnicity: Nordic descent, primarily Sweden and Norway Pronouns: He/They Mentor: Cryon

Powers: Is basically Iceman but spikier. Can create, manipulate and cover himself in ice. Has the ability to consciously regulate his temperature as well.

Description: Looks like an extremely average dude with brown hair. Usually wears tshirts and plaid with jeans. His Hero suit is rarely seen, as it’s basically a thermal suit to aid in temperature regulation when he covers himself in ice. When covered in ice, they appear to be wearing spikey armour of some kind. In time the design becomes smoother and more streamlined as they get a better handle on their abilites. 

Personality: Probably the most empathetic of the group, they took on the responsibility of getting more in depth medical training, so they’re the team medic that never runs out of icepacks. Best friends with Ibis, they’re usually decently calm, but their overwhelming ability to care can bite them in the ass sometimes. 

Saber Civilian name: Chenzi “Shenzi” Young Ethnicity: Chinese  Pronouns: She/They Mentor: Dynasty

Powers: Got none but is very good with anything sharp. Primary weapon is a sword, but also proficient in hand to hand, and essentially any bladed weapon. Like Nightbolt, is also a decent acrobat. 

Description: Gets cold easily, so often wears oversized hoodies and sweatpants (is often told to put on “real” pants when going out in public). Hero suit resembles a lighter, more fitted, and streamlined interpretation of heavy Tang Dynasty era armour. Colours are primarily red and white. 

Personality: A gremlin but in a lovable way. She’s convinced she and Karma are the only ones with a sense of humour. Would be a prankster if it didn’t take so much work, so instead goofs off with Karma. Is actually very intelligent and good at what they do, they just manage their stress through shenanigans and can’t focus to save their life (ADHD for the win folks). Shares a braincell with Karma.

[thought-42]

Fictober Day 11: “I told you so”

Critical role, 1025 words, Percy, Vex, Caleb, Beau, essek. Set in some nebulous post-canon near future. "I told you so," Vex murmurs in his ear when the alarm goes off. Percy is already watching from an upper window as the two humans and the drow cross the grounds towards the castle, but he'd been curious to see how far they could get before one of his warning systems succeeded. He's pleased to note they were caught by one of his own, entirely mechanical design. He has nothing against magic, but there is a grounded sense of security and certainty present in something he can pull apart and explain in diagrams and numbers.

"You did not," he says. "Technically, you said someone would try to steal the--" he winces preemptively-- "floaty dream box." Yes, he had lost a bet. No, Vex isn't allowed to name anything else. No, he doesn't want to talk about it.

"Sneaking past all our guards and traps seems fairly fucking obvious, dear," Vex says. "This is generally what one does when one intends to steal something. I know these things."

"They look too official," he says. "Though I suppose they could be the distraction. If we finds little bits of bodies scattered across the workshop you can say I told you so later."

"Mmm, charming," she says. "Are you meeting them outside or in? I want to get a good line of sight."

"I'll meet them at the door, like a good host," he says, swinging his newest rifle over his back and tucking a handgun into his jacket. "Please don't shoot them unless they're actively trying to harm me, those clothes are not Tal'Dorei fashion and we really can't afford an international incident."

"I'm great at avoiding international incidents," Vex lies.

*

They knock at the door, which is unsurprising as a tactic but surprising in that Percy didn't actually think anyone was strong enough to lift the massive brass knocker besides Grog. Percy desperately wants to open the doors himself for the drama of it, but he's not actually quite that stupid. He waits beside a marble column off to the side while guards pull the doors open.

"Flatten your fucking hair," Vex says in his earring. The doors begin to swing ponderously open, and he hopes the casual brush of his hand over the back of his head looks deliberately casual instead of slightly panicked.

as soon as the doors are open and hes not actively being murdered, he says "Welcome to Whitestone," crisp and faux-friendly, his blandest professional 'I am slowly dying inside' smile firmly in place.

"Lord de rolo," the human man says in heavily accented common. "I apologize we could not send word ahead. I hope we aren't arriving at an inconvenient time."

The woman is Cobalt Soul, and he wouldn't pretend to know the institutional societal relevance of the Drow's presentation. On first glance the human man would likely be read as in high-ranking military dress, but the closer Percy looks it becomes obvious that it is a choice of presentation, a style of dress that brings to mind a uniform but is not actually one. There's also fire curling around his fingertips like exceedingly ostentatious, exceedingly hazardous jewelry. The drow is floating a couple of inches off the ground. He's uncertain what the intention behind it is, though the smooth silent glide would likely be impressive to the average citizen. He does have excellent hair, though. The expositor wants to punch him in the face. He's familiar with the look.

"Not at all," Percy says, magnanimously. "I assume you are seeking an audience."

"Hey look, we did it, good job gang," the expositor mutters dryly. The drow elbows her in the side.

"Ja, we are," the man says. "We have, uhh, reason to believe that you have come into possession of a particular artefact."

"I'm sure you do," Percy says wryly.

"Listen, Your Majesty," the Expositor says, stepping forward, swinging her stalf slowly at her side.

"That's not--" says Percy, at the same time the drow says

"That's not the proper form of address... not that you care." Percy gets the impression that if his posture weren't so clearly trained into him in a similar way as his own, the drow's shoulders would slump in resignation.

"whatever, whatever. We're here to discuss the artefact. You're the kind of guy who likes information, right? So that's what we're offering. We know what it is. What it does. So lets skip the bullshit and jump to the part where we explain why you need to give that fucker to us as soon as possible, and you whine 'finders keepers', and then we say 'no really, asshole, you don't know what you're fucking with', and then you politely threaten us with your dungeon and Caleb sets the room on fire. We'll all have regrets, it'll be great."

"I'm so glad we prepared so extensively for this conversation," the drow says, flatly. "Thank you, Beauregard, for sticking so closely to our plan."

"Both of you shut up," the man hisses, the flames around his fingers creeping over his palms.

"You may as well come in," Percy says, waving a hand.

"We'd rather not," says Fire Hands. This one wants to do far worse to Percy than punch him in the face. Again, he's familiar with the look. But Percy's really not certain why. Not that there aren't a myriad of excellent reasons, but if Vex'ahlia is going to do a murder and create some sort of diplomatic incident he'd really like to know what it's all for.

"Quite frankly I really don't care what you would rather," Percy says. "I'm not having this conversation in the doorway."

"very well," the drow says, and floats in ahead of the humans. It's... perturbing to see a drow in the elegant fashion and careful courtesy that Percy himself wears like armour.

The expositor follows, gaze skimming the foyer with such efficient intensity that Percy would be concerned about anyone but Vex being spotted. The human man stares up at the sky for a moment.

"Sure. Great. Let's just fucking walk in, why not?"

A cat appears on his shoulders as he strides in, eyes flicking around with more subtlety and more fear than the expositor's observation. His hands are finally not on fire, somehow unburned, and instead he's got his arms crossed over his stomach, hands wrapped over his forearms.

This will, if nothing else, be interesting.

[wolfish-trickster]

Okay, these are some of my ideas on "How to make Miraculous more interesting"

The jewelry isn't called miraculous, it could be called amulet (an object that protects you from bad/evil spirits) or talisman (object that attracts good luck). Both of them are tied to magical aspect of spiritism (I once read something about wicca and amulets/talismans and there was something like this). Ladybug's earings and Cat's ring are amulets, because they are stronger compared to talismans (in the show A*truck claims ladybug's and cat noir's powers to be the strongest, but honestly illusions, venom, time travel... are way stronger than creation and destruction)

Amulets aren't given, they are found by those whose spirit animal it attracts. Hear me out. Let's say everyone in miraculous universe has multiple spirit guardians, animals, that guide them through life, each animal in different phase (childhood, teenage, adulthood, etc) but one of them is stronger and guides them the most. Marinette has ladybug, Adrien has cat. Then they find a little black box on the most common place (hidden in the park, under a chair in school) and are the only ones who notice them/are drawn to them. In order to be superhero, you have to have good eye sight for details to spot enemy's weakneses.

There won't be literal gods aka kwamis. There will be nuxes: parts of the souls (or the spirit animal part) ripped (painless) from inside you guiding you to become better self. They will be tied to amulets/talismans and they stay their characters. Tikki is the positive, more stress-less part of Marinette, giving advices, cheering her loved ones up and creative. Plagg is that laid back part of Adrien, that part which longs to break rules, have fun and enjoy life while it lasts.

This is kinda angsty from me: after reaching certain level of training from your nux, it will return back inside you, so your 'soul' can be whole again. You will be able to comunicate with him/her through meditation or dream. Those who are like their spirit animal from the begining will have their nux return inside them sooner than those, who have a lot to learn. Meaning Marinette and Tikki won't be together for long time, since Marinette was confident and creative before she met Tikki, Adrien refuses to be lazy and rule-breaker like Plagg, so those two will be stuck together longer.

As cool as it is I just don't like the transformation phrases. In order to transform you have to SHOUT those words, then have enough space to do the 'transformation dance'? Hell no. In this world all you have to do is whisper to your nux something like: transform me! or they could have their own code, nux will then go inside the amulet/talisman willingly (because I hate the fact that kwamis are practically slaves to their owners) and transforms real quick to hop and go save the world.

YOU CAN DESIGN YOUR OWN OUTFIT! Because c'mon, ladybugs spandex costume? Tight enough so anyone can see your curves, even if you don't want them to? Guys getting armour and girls flats? No no no, if you are designer at heart, you can design it head to toe, material, accesory, weapon. If you're not a designer, the suit/amulet/nux will change it to your needs. Amulets and talismans will be hidden under your fighitng suit, therefore it will be harde for your enemy to steal it. Advantage if your jewelry is ring, necklace, bracelet. If it's headband, earings, hair ties, suit will come with hood, if it's like ox nose piercing it will come with face mask (convenient when your enemy throws you into sleep gas cloud).

There won't be rule for adults to use their power non stop like in canon. One amulet is as stronger and powerful as 5 talismans. Meaning Hawkmoth is either gonna use 5 or more talismans or just one amulet.

Talismans are given to their temporary owners by holders of amulet. The nux will either find it somewhere in the world, or talisman will appear just like amulet when needed. It's up to holder of amulet to decide, who will use it

You can't be holder of 2 amulets! One, take it or leave it. On the other hand you can combine multiple talismans, but the more they are, the more difficult it is to tame them, especialy if you are holder of an amulet in the first place.

Also nuxes of amulets and talismans are pretty different. While nux of amulet is able to move objects, fight people if necessery, lift heavy things etc, nux of talisman is like a ghost: he/she could push a glass if he/she concentrated enough, can fly through objects to obtain info but can't hold anything. Both of them have weakneses and strengths making them interesting and dangerous if used correctly.

I might add somethings later, these are just the core things I could think of. It would erase a lot of plotholes but it would also create some at the same time😅 I just though these spirity magic thingies could make it more interesting.

If there were some spelling mistakes or some bad constructed sentences, I'm sorry.

[softrockstar]

An Analysis on the Ethnic Coding of Petra [Fire Emblem Three Houses]

So Fire Emblem Three Houses is officially one month old now and since that time, I’ve been taking notes on anything Petra, Brigid, Shamir or Dagda related on most of my playthroughs because I’m genuinely curious as to what their real world counterparts are meant to be. And finally I have come to the conclusion that the countries of Brigid and Dagda are based off pre-Columbian Caribbean/Latin America making it plausible to conclude that both Petra and Shamir are Indigenous Latina coded!! Below the cut I have compiled all the references I noticed either from research or just from personal knowledge of mine because I thought some of y’all would interested in this since it hasn’t been talked about as far as I know.

(BEWARE OF MINOR SPOILERS)

First thing’s first, I wanted to point out that although the Adrestrian Empire is heavily based off Germany, it also has Iberian themes (most notably names (see Mercedes and Manuela) and geography.) This connects with the fact that Adrestria is the only known country in Fódlan to have had direct contact with Brigid/Dagda so in the real world, this would be Spanish/Portuguese contact with the Caribbean/Latin America

Attire

Pre-timeskip, Petra’s design doesn’t speak much about her homeland. She wears a standard uniform where the only notable difference between her and the other students are her tan complexion, braided hair and of course, her iconic tattoo on her cheek. Post-timeskip, however, we get much more insight on what Brigid culture is like since she does explain that sometime during the five years Byleth was gone, she returned to Brigid. (albeit, for a short amount of time) This is where we finally get a good taste of Brigid culture and makes it way easier to point out the references between her attire and the real world inspirations it takes.

[just a disclaimer, but none of Petra’s canon classes (Thief, Assassin and Wyvern Rider) really incorporate its way into her war attire with the exception of the one legged leggings and garter from the generic female thief outfit]

From my personal knowledge on the topic, I noticed that Petra’s outfit takes a lot of inspiration from the Kuna people of Panama and Colombia, most notably her jewelry, the patterns and the colour palette.

[most Incan armour were made out of metals and her shoulder guard/chest plate seem to be made out of leather (noted by the seams/colour) so in the image above I was mainly pointing out the theme of fringe/tassels]

The persistent theme of gold accessories in her outfit is reminiscent of many different ancient Latin American civilizations valuing gold so much.

Beliefs

Petra establishes early on that she doesn’t really believe in the Church of Seiros (same for Shamir) and instead explains in Brigid, they believe every living thing has a spirit within. In her C-Support with Byleth, she explains the origin of her tattoo as a prayer to the forest spirits to protect her.

In many Latin American/Caribbean cultures, there are forest spirits referred to as duendes and are to help guide lost people out of the forest.

Once Byleth’s hair changes colour, Petra acknowledges it and gives insight on more of Brigid’s spiritual beliefs.

Hair is very sacred in many Indigenous cultures. It’s believed that if your hair were to change colours naturally, you were enlightened by a god which coincides well with Petra’s reaction to Byleth’s new appearance.

Geography

Brigid is an archipelago with a tropical climate and is located to the southwest of Fódlan (Europe) so it should go without saying much that the location of Brigid is based off the West Indies/Caribbean and Central America.

However something that should be noted is that Brigid and Dagda are very closely tied together, sharing parts of their cultures. Dagda’s real world counterpart is very vague to say the least since Shamir doesn’t share much about it but going off the in-game description of a tomato and a paragraph from one of the books in the library, it’s safe to say that Dagda is most likely supposed to be South America.

- - -

And that’s that on that! I’m sure there’s many things that I’ve missed (such as the significance of Petra’s braids, more on spirits that Petra mentions, Shamir’s animal bone dice, etc.) but for now that’s all I can gather accurate information on. Maybe in the future I will make some edits to this but for now I’m satisfied with the result.

Thank you for coming to my TED Talk!!

[noneya-business-me]

His Majesty

Summary: After all the danger that class 1-A gets into, Nezu sends them to the museum to give them a relaxing break. When Kirishima and Bakugou start exploring by themselves they find out something about themselves and more...

“Everyone pack up your bags, and head outside to the bus.” Aizawa stated, unzipping out of his sleeping bag. 

“Where are we going?” Ashido asked, raising her hand.

“Oh, I didn’t tell you?” Aizawa asked, staring at her. 

There was a collective affirmative from the class. “Nezu wants to start including arts into your lesson plans considering the amount of danger you’ve been in lately due to hero training.” He replied, “The museum in Tokyo brought in a new collection of art and artifacts from the medieval times.” 

Some the students nodded in excitement while the rest yawned or groaned. “You can complain all you want, that won’t change our plans.” Aizawa sighed.

There was the sound of scrapping chairs as everyone got up and left the classroom. “Are you excited Bakugou?” Kirishima asked, throwing an arm around his shoulders. 

The blonde shrugged with a sneer. “I’ve been to a shit ton of art museums with my parents.” He replied, “If you’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all.” 

Kirishima’s smile dimmed a little before coming back full force. “I think there’s always something new to see!” He stated. 

Bakugou stared at him for a moment before scoffing, “whatever.”

They mostly sat in silence on the hour long bus ride into Tokyo, with Bakugou shoving his headphones into his ears as soon as he sat down. They got off the bus and stood in front of the steps of the Tokyo National Museum, waiting for their guide to show up. “Wait here.” Aizawa stated, going up to the doors and entering. 

“This is going to be fun.” Kirishima said, with a wide grin. 

“I didn’t know you were that into art shitty hair.” Bakugou chuckled.

Kirishima shifted embarrassed. “Yeah, I think it’s really interesting.” He replied, “no piece of art is the same.”

Bakugou stared at him before smirking. “I guess you’re right.” He shrugged. 

“The guide is running late.” Aizawa said, calling down to them from the top of the steps, “for now, you can roam around by yourselves.” He glared at them slightly as he passed out their badges and maps. “Do. Not. Get. Into. Trouble.” He growled, “I will know immediately if you do something stupid.”

They nodded to him nervously as they split into different groups. “Let’s go here!” Kirishima said, grabbing Bakugou by the arm and dragging him away from the larger group. “It’s that medieval stuff that Aizawa was talking about.” 

They walked into a side gallery that had suits of armour lining the hallway. Kirishima opened his map, “I’m guessing mostly everyone is going to see the quirk related stuff.” He suggested, looking at the layout of the gallery. 

The exhibit was set up kind of like the corridors of a castle. The first hallway being focused around armour. They continued down the hallway until it ended and separated to the left and right. At the end of the hallway was a glass case that held weapons. There was a set of duel wielding daggers and a large cutlass. The cutlasses handle was golden and carved into the shape of a dragon, the same dragon design was engraved into the blade of the sword. Bakugou’s eyes widened as it sparked some kind of recognition in him. He lightly touched the glass, over it staring intently. Beside him, Kirishima seemed to have the same feeling about the daggers. He stared at them before he shook his head, and looked down at his map. “If we go that way, it has paintings and stuff.” He said pointing to the left, “and over there is clothing and jewelry.”

Bakugou seemed to shake out of his trance, and looked over at the red head. “Right.” He stated, “let’s go to the right.” 

The other nodded and turned to turn into the next room. The room was styled like a master bedroom with a bed roped off, but still vibrant regardless of being thousands of years old. There was a massive armoire, decorated with plants and flowers. There was a wash basin, a leather room divider, and large mirror. Over by the armoire there was another glass case that displayed jewelry. There was a pair of red spike earrings, and three different coloured bead necklaces, and one with three sharp teeth that were strung on a leather cord. Kirishima unconsciously pressed his tongue against the sharp teeth that sat at the back of his mouth. Bakugou let out a shaky exhale as he softly touched the glass again. “They’re safe.” He whispered with a sad smile. 

“What?” Kirishima asked confused, although he could feel his own relief at the discovery. 

“I..I don’t know.” Bakugou replied, turning to look around the room more. It seemed more in nostalgia than curiosity at this point. 

He stopped in front of the mirror, where the fur neck lined red cape hung off a mannequin. Next to it stood a complete recreation. “You should put it on.” Kirishima urged, nervously. 

“Why should I?” Bakugou replied, just as nervous. 

“There’s something going on here Bakugou.” Kirishima stated. 

Bakugou bit his lip and nodded, reaching out to touch it. “They didn’t use the right fur.” He thought almost immediately freezing in his action, “Jesus, it’s a reproduction, of course they didn’t.”

He slid his arms into the leather bands, and hiked it up to his shoulders. The fur settled comfortably around his neck and face, feeling familiar and comforting. He seemed to take his first fresh breath of air since he got here. He stared into the mirror in front of him, it was like he had always worn it. He glanced at Kirishima in the mirror who was staring in awe, with sparkling eyes. “You look amazing my King!” He cheered, before covering his mouth with his hand. “I mean Bakugou.”

Again, it didn’t seem strange coming from Kirishima’s mouth even though he had never said something like that before. Bakugou turned towards him, the cape swishing around him dramatically. “How does it feel?” Kirishima asked, with a grin.

“Warm.” Bakugou replied simply, crossing his arms, “I don’t know about the shirt though, it seems a little much.”

“Then take off the shirt.” Kirishima replied, with a shrug. 

“I can’t just take off my shirt you idiot.” Bakugou snapped, “we’re in a museum with people.” 

“UA rented out the museum today because we were coming.” Kirishima said, “perks of being a well known school I guess.” 

Bakugou looked at him almost in concern before shaking his head. “Fuck it.” He said, taking the cape off and pulling his shirt off and replacing the cape. “That’s much better.” He sighed, rolling his shoulders a bit. 

“That looks more…” Kirishima stared, “right.” 

“It looks more right?” Bakugou smirked, “what’s that supposed to mean?” 

“I don’t know, it looked weird with the shirt.” Kirishima shrugged, walking back out into the walkway. 

“Where are you going?” Bakugou called, following him.

“I want to see the art now.” He replied.

They walked into the gallery to see many painting hanging on the wall, with benches scattered around. There were a lot of landscape paintings of mountains, valleys, and even some castles. They paused to gaze longingly at a painting of a forest of tall trees. The next was of a massive red dragon, with its wings spread out to catch the wind. He seemed to be in between the mountains and forest, with a lake separating the two. “That’s me.” He stated, just as Bakugou spoke. “That’s you.”

They looked at each other with wide eyes, before bursting into laughter. “How is this possible?” Kirishima asked, gripping his hand. 

Bakugou just shook his head in silence. They continued down the hallway, seeing different people that looked familiar. Until they came to the last room that had a floor to ceiling portrait. He looked extremely regal. His head was held high, the red of the cape blended perfectly with the paleness of the blondes skin. His eyes almost seemed to glow as they gazed softly from the canvas. The silver crown that sat on his head was simple but on him it seemed like the most precious crown that ever existed. In the background of the portrait, the redhead stood proudly with the duel daggers on his hips. The two stared at the painting in awe. “It’s pretty spectacular isn’t it?” A voice asked behind them. 

The two didn’t even turn to acknowledge them as they continued. “From the research that the team did at these ruins, this used to be the ruler of this part of the world, along with his companion in the back.” 

They chuckled coming further into the room. “He brought peace to the war torn land, and helped to create the world we know today. He was even rumoured to have flown a dragon instead of riding a horse! Hence, the painting of the dragon in the other room.” 

He stopped behind them, gazing up to the painting as well. “They never knew where the dragon went though, they were never able to find any of it’s bones at the sight so they think that must have been a mistranslation.” 

“He’s right there.” Bakugou sighed dazedly, pointing to the red head in the back, “he was always there. To the end.” 

The person was quiet after his statement. “That cape is actually supposed to stay in the other-“

His mouth snapped shut as Bakugou turned around to stare at him. His expression identical to the one in the painting, the same for Kirishima. The man wheezed in disbelief. “He was a trusty steed.” Bakugou continued, “as he is now as well.”

The man rubbed his hands together, “I dated that painting myself. It’s thousands of years old.” He muttered to himself. 

He started pacing back and forth in front of the two, rubbing a hand on his forehead. “Is it possible?” He stopped to look at the blonde again, glancing at the painting too. “What kind of fur was the cape made with?” 

“Dire wolf from the Northern lands.” He answered immediately.

The man squeaked again. “Are you him?” He asked hesitantly. 

“I am.” He replied, “I used to be I guess.” 

They all stared at each other, until a gentle smile crossed the mans face. “It’s an honour to meet you your majesty.” 

“It’s been awhile since I’ve heard that.” Bakugou smirked.

“Would you be able to answer some questions for me about some of the items in the collection?” The man asked hopefully. 

They went back into the other room. To the jewelry case. “I wanted to say thank you for protecting these.” Bakugou stated, motioning to the beads, “they’re extremely important.” 

The man nodded, “and you’re sure they’re yours?” He asked. 

Bakugou nodded, “They still have a little magic left in them.” He said, he stared longingly at them. 

“Do you want to put them on?” The man asked, pulling out a set of keys, and undoing the lock. 

Bakugou reached out and lifted them over his head, letting them rest against his skin as he put the earrings on as well. “What do they mean?” The man asked, “You said they were important.”

“They’re both a way to show your status and passed on as precious heirlooms.” He replied, rubbing his thumb against one of the fangs, “they’re also a way to show loyalty like with this one.” 

He lifted the leather one up with the three fangs on it. “This one was the dragons oath.” He stated, “he spit them out after our fight and gave them to me as a pledge.” 

The man nodded in amazement. “What about the cape?” 

“There was a reason I didn’t wear armour.” Bakugou scoffed, “the cape was blessed with magic by an old friend with many protection spells. That’s why even after thousands of years there’s nothing wrong with it.” 

The man moved forward again with his keys and opened the case, holding it gently as he passed it over to Bakugou. “Go on.” He urged with soft eyes. 

Kirishima helped him slip off the recreation and put on the original with a contented sigh from Bakugou. “That’s the feeling I’ve been missing.” He sighed, “it was passed on through many generations of my family until I had it blessed.” 

“It’s quite torn at the bottom though.” The man stated, looking at the torn bottom hem. 

Bakugou lifted the bottom up with his hand. It was a large cape, still reaching the ground, and enough to still wrap around him. “I gave part of it to Kirishima.” He said, “to share my blessing with him when we went into battle.” 

The man nodded excitedly, writing down everything in his notebook. He kind of reminded Bakugou of Midoriya. “Where did-“

“What are you doing?!” A shrill voice yelled, “you can’t have that on! That’s a fragile artifact!”  

The trio looked over at the entrance of the door when a lady with short grey hair was leading their classmates around. Aizawa had a palm to his face, grumbling to himself. “It’s quite alright.” The man said, stepping in front of them. 

“Mr. Fukujirou?” The lady questioned in disbelief. 

He smiled at her and the group. “I’ve found the one I’ve been looking for.” He stated, with the same smile, “I was just about to give his majesty his belongings back.” 

“What?” The woman stuttered.

“His majesty?” Aizawa questioned just as confused. 

“My quirk allows me to interact with reincarnated souls and be able to get their precious items back.” He explained, “it just so happens that my intuition lead me to set up here.” 

He smiled at the blonde who seemed just as taken aback as everyone else. “That was the reason I became an archeologist.”

“You probably don’t have the room to take them with you now, but you both will be pro heroes soon so I can safe keep some of the items?” He offered. 

“Yes.” Bakugou replied, simply, “I’m taking the painting of Kirishima with me.” 

He nodded as the group followed them back into the room with paintings. They all gaped at the massive portrait of the blonde, while Mr. Fukujirou pulled the smaller painting off the wall, and into Bakugou’s arms. The woman squeaked in distaste. “I don’t think this is right!” She argued, “you can’t just give these away!” 

“It’s not really up to you, is it?” Mr. Fukujirou said, suddenly cold, “I’ve made it my job to get these back to their rightful owners, and these are the kings.” 

She crossed her arms in embarrassment, but stayed silent off to the side. “Wow Blastly, so it’s really true?” Ashido asked, coming up to them. 

He nodded in affirmation. “That’s wild.” Kaminari whistled. 

Bakugou stared at them as they chattered away. He thought wistfully, “Maybe someday they’ll remember as well.” 

[tilltheendwilliwrite]

Of Blood and Roses

Chapter Twenty-Six

Master List  |  Loki Laufeyson Master List

Previous Chapter

Pairing: Loki x Lauren  |  Word Count: 7070 Warnings: language, mentions of spousal abuse

Lauren rested her head on her arms as she leaned against the edge of the pool in the bathroom. The twins had left her to soak after her morning exercise with Sif.

She’d fallen asleep on Loki last night in the garden, unbelievably tired after their magical dance, and woken up in their bed with her husband already up and dressed in much more formal clothing than usual. As he was standing in for Thor today, he’d thought it appropriate, and though he longed to linger over breakfast with her, duty called.

It was the first time in a week they hadn’t eaten together. Though Lauren understood, she still sighed after he left, leaving her in the capable hands of the twins. As she’d slept in thanks to the previous night's exertions, she missed her morning yoga but took the time to teach Anitra and Anneke a few beginner moves to warm and stretch the body first thing in the morning.

They’d giggled and groaned their way through it, lamented the skirts which continued to get in the way and made Lauren bite back many a snicker at the way they teased one another. Already she adored them, and though they were a few years younger, she knew she could count them as friends and confidants should she need them.

After, though flushed and a touch sweaty, the twins helped her find her way to Sif in the same training hall she’d used the previous day, but Sif was in a less than conciliatory mood. It was clear Thor leaving her behind to go off to Vanaheim without her left her disconcerted, and though Lauren wanted to tell her why Thor had insisted on going alone, she didn’t want to give up the surprise. Instead, she’d asked Sif to push her harder than Hogun had done, and after falling off the poles more times than she wanted to count, she’d asked for a reprieve and ended up sparing with the woman instead.

Lauren’s bruises had bruises, but a few of the things Nat and Bucky taught her had come in handy. No, she couldn’t climb a person and wrap her thighs around their neck like Natasha could, but one particular leg swipe had succeeded in putting Sif on her ass. Unfortunately, it hadn’t helped Sif’s mood and only affirmed for her that Lauren had been holding back.

Everything ached from her toes to her fingertips to the top of her head. But where before Lauren had walked away feeling down on herself for her lack of success, Sif’s encouragement, and then Fandral’s when the scoundrel had arrived unannounced, had her feeling hopeful. No, she wasn’t going to be able to take on Thor and win, but one day, maybe, she would at the very least give him a run for his money.

She had time. That’s what they kept telling her. She had time. Years. Centuries. Her lifetime had extended exponentially. She would get stronger, faster, smarter. Such was the way of Asgard.

Lauren still had a hard time believing it, but neither Sif or Fandral came off as false. Their encouragement was genuine, and while Natasha had never been discouraging, Lauren’s mindset during the training was still that of the abused, insecure woman who’d run away from her problems.

Now, though she had moments of doubt, Lauren knew she wasn’t all the horrible things her sister had claimed her to be. She was strong. Smart. Independent. Her kindness and compassion didn’t make her weak. Here, on Asgard, they appeared to be things people applauded as strengths.

It made her feel… strangely proud for once, and as she’d said to Loki last night, Asgard felt like home.

When the twins returned a few moments later, Lauren smiled at them. “Do y’all know what Loki’d be up to about now?”

“The court is open for petitioners today. It begins a few hours before the midday meal and continues through to well into the afternoon.”

“So long? No wonder he whined about it a little.” When they came to the edge of the pool, towel in hand, Lauren ascended without really noticing. They’d added something fragrant with mint to the bath which had done wonders on her sore muscles. It had also reduced the large black and purple welt on her hip to the yellow-green of a nearly healed bruise. “Y’all really have the best stuff here,” she giggled and lifted her arms when they wrapped her in a towel.

“Are you hungry, Lauren?” Anneke asked, already working to dry the water from her hair even as Anitra led her to sit on the bench in the center of the room.

“Not really and everythin’ hurts a lot less after that bath.” She hesitated a minute before looking at Anneke reflected in the mirror. “I’d… kinda like to see what Loki’s up to, but he didn’t ask me if I wanted to watch, and I’m not sure I’m invited-”

“Of course you’re invited!” the elder twin gasped.

Anitra nodded her agreement. “If he didn’t offer, it was likely because it can be tedious, boring, and downright stuffy. Mother made us all sit through at least one round of petitions so that we would be aware of the duty placed upon the people we would eventually serve.”

“Well, it’s unlikely I’ll ever have to do that.” Lauren shrugged, missing the exchange which took place between the twins.

“If you are going to visit the court, we’ll need to rethink your outfit. ‘Ne, the black and gold brocade?” Anneke asked.

“Oh! Yes! We were just saying how wonderful you’d look in that!” Anitra darted out the door.

“Y’all don’t have to go to all that trouble. I just want to sneak in and watch from the back, not parade down the golden mile.”

Anneke frowned at Lauren’s reflection. “Lady Lauren, if you think for one moment your husband won’t know your there or the people won’t notice your presence, you’re wrong.”

“Oh… then, maybe I shouldn’t bother. I don’t want to interrupt.”

“Nonsense!” Anneke crouched to retrieve the bottle of oil from her basket beneath the bench. “You’re going.”

A smile pulled at Lauren’s lips. “Yes, ma’am. Though it seems a bit silly to get all dolled up for this when I’m just gonna have to come back and change into ridin’ clothes at lunch.”

Anitra scoffed as she returned to the room. “We live for this! If you wanted to change six times a day, we would never complain.”

“Y’all are turnin’ me into a Barbie,” Lauren giggled.

The twins paused and blinked before frowning at Lauren. “What’s a Barbie?”

***

Dressed, made up, and thoroughly pampered, Lauren ran her hands down the front of the court outfit the twins had chosen in a little a bit of awe. After explaining what a Barbie was as best she could without pictures, it became clear the twins had grown up with something similar. They’d called it a Borghildr, and she’d been a battle maiden who they could dress in different styles of armour or costume depending on a person’s mood.

When Lauren asked if they’d had other such toys, the girls had gushed about the variety of models based on the gods and goddesses of Asgard. Frigga and Odin, Thor, Loki, Ran, Freya, and the others, though they were more for decoration and collectables than playing with, which was how Lauren had discovered that she would one day grace the shelves of some child’s bedroom.

Stunned and not a little disconcerted, she’d shyly asked the twins to keep an eye out for when it happened. Lauren would kind of like to see it, even if it made her a bit nauseous at being lauded in such a way.

Anneke and Anitra assured her it wouldn’t happen until her place on Yggdrasil was announced, so it would be a while yet.

Lauren decided it would be prudent to ignore the information as thinking about it would only make her crazy. Instead, she took a last look at herself in the mirror. The black dress moved like chiffon, light and airy around her. It’s v-neckline hinted at her cleavage while allowing her torque to gleam brightly against her skin. Sheer sleeves complimented the gold embroidery in the medallion on her back and the hem which skimmed the ground. In all honesty, Lauren had thought herself finished when the twins had turned with the floor length black coat. It was brocade, thickly worked with gold designs of curlicues and filigrees, flowers and leaves. It reminded her of the blue one Loki had created for her their first day here, apparently a standard of Asgardian wear.

While black wasn’t a colour Lauren typically wore, finding the harshness often washed her out, mixed with the thick strands of gold and the work the twins had done to her face, she thought the ensemble made her look strong and confident, or maybe she was just beginning to feel that way herself.

With her hair beautifully braided down her back and Frigga’s thin tiara on her brow, Lauren made her way out into the sitting room only to slow to a stop and frown at the four cases waiting on a table. “What are these?”

The twins giggled excitedly and skipped over to lift the lids on the first two. “The goldsmith Clareon sent these two. He heard from Ingrid, who made this,” Anneke lifted the lid on the third to reveal the costume Lauren admired from their walk during the festival, “how much you’d appreciated his work, but you hadn’t made it to his store, so he sent a sample for you to look over. Anything you want, he’s asked you to keep as a gift for your wedding.”

“Oh! Oh, I couldn’t!” But the glint of the gold jewelry was like a siren’s call, drawing her toward the beautiful sheen within the case. “And what’s this doin’ here?” she asked, placing her hand on the costume.

“The prince bought that for you. Ingrid said something about the prince and the king conspiring behind your back.”

“Those two little shits,” Lauren murmured, but couldn’t help stroking her fingers over the fabric.

Anitra gave a sharp gasping giggle of surprise and covered her mouth. “Well, I think that’s the first time I’ve ever heard someone refer to the king and his brother in such a manner.”

“I can almost guarantee their mother said it at least once.” Lauren arched a brow, then glanced at the final case. “So what’s in that one?”

“It’s from Duncan, the glass smith.”

Lauren’s heart jumped, and her hand shook as she reached for the latch on the final case. Lined in deep blue velvet, a pair of glass orbs waited. One was a soft pink with drips of peach, while the other appeared the yellow and orange of a pretty flower. Gently, she plucked out the yellow one. As soon as she touched it, the colours came alive and swirled in soft clouds and curls. Lauren held it in her palm and watched it for a moment before returning it to the case. When she lifted out the pink, the colours shifted and moved like a sunrise, rolling one over the other.

A tear tracked her cheek. “Gran is gonna love these so much.”

“No, no! No, crying!” Anneke fanned her face. “You’ll make me cry.”

“Okay.” Lauren sniffed and placed the orb back in its case. “I’m fine.” She looked up at the ceiling and fanned her face too. “Really. Totally fine.”

Anitra cleared her throat and motioned toward the first two cases. “Clareon is renowned for his work. I think that your notice and admiration, then Loki buying Ingrid’s design prompted him into putting this together. He doesn’t do that.”

“Ever,” Anneke agreed.

“He’s a dwarf from Nidavellir,” Anneke explained. “They made your crown. There truly is nothing that can compare to Dwarven created jewelry.”

Lauren moved closer and felt her heart skip a second time at taking in the beauty before her. “Oh, my stars.” Rings, bracelets, and earrings shimmered upon their black velvet lining. Multifaceted jewels caught the light and shot fire from their hearts. Each was a master of such craftsmanship they took Lauren’s breath away.

But one pair of earrings, in particular, caught her notice. Emeralds so dark a green they were nearly black crowned gold curls surrounding diamond triangles and leaves above a dangling golden disc with a thumbnail-sized diamond teardrop.

“Oh, my lady!” Anneke gasped. “Those are stunning!”

“But I shouldn’t. They've gotta be so expensive.”

Anitra shook her head. “They are, but he wouldn’t have sent them if he didn’t want you to choose them.” She lifted the earrings from their bed and held them up. “They’ll be perfect with your dress.”

“You’re sure this is alright?”

“Lady Lauren, you could take the entire case, and no one would think twice. Though Clareon may send your husband a bill if you do.”

She blushed and shook her head. “Oh, I couldn’t. They’re beautiful, but I’d feel so guilty doin’ somethin’ like that.” Instead, Lauren took the earrings Anitra held and put them on. “How do I look?”

“Perfect,” the twins said at the same time.

“After I peek in on Loki, I’d love to write Mr. Clareon a note thankin’ him for his generosity.”

The twins stared at her in shock. “Really?”

“Well, yes. Why? Is that weird?”

“No! Not at all.” Anitra and Anneke exchanged a look. “We’ll show you to your study after you visit the court.”

“I have a study?” Lauren blinked at them both.

“And a parlour.”

“And a keeping room.”

Lauren could only stare. “I’m sorry. A what?”

“A keeping room.” Anneke waved her hands. “We’ll show you after you visit the court. We haven’t done so yet because the court will assume you’re ready to receive guests.”

“I’m not? Is there somethin’ wrong with me?” She wasn’t sure whether or not to be upset by that assumption.

Anneke’s eyes widened. “No! That wasn’t at all what I meant!”

Before her sister could stick her foot further in her mouth, Anitra stepped in. “We weren’t sure you’d want to receive guests and visitors when you were still so new to Asgard. The prince has spoken of getting you a tutor to help you learn our ways, and we thought you’d like to have a few lessons first before, well, the horde descends. But after last night and how you handled Nesper and his milksops, you’ll likely be fine.”

“And, we’ll be with you should you have questions,” Anneke assured her.

Lauren nodded slowly, understanding their concern. “I still don’t get the difference between a parlour and a keepin' room.”

“Well, your study will be your private space where you can receive messages and answer queries. The parlour is a place you can go to mingle in a less formal capacity with the ladies and gentlemen of the court, but the keeping room is a place you can meet those who wish to speak with you privately.”

“Ah. I see,” Lauren said, following the twins as they headed for the door.

“Still, even during a private audience, you’ll have your assistant with you.”

“I have an assistant?” How weird was that? Lauren hadn’t even met them yet.

Anitra nodded. “You will, once you choose one.”

Lauren shook her head. “I’ve been a personal assistant for four years. Never imagined I’d have one.”

“Depending what the Norns reveal about your place on Yggdrasil, you may need one,” Anneke said.

As the twins weren’t yet privy to what Loki suspected, and Lauren wasn’t about to spit it out in the middle of the hall where anyone could overhear, she let it go and let the girls lead the way to the court. But when they headed toward the same enormous doors Loki and Lauren had used previously, Lauren stopped.

She blushed and played with her rings. “Um, is there a way y’all could take me ‘round the side? I just… I don’t want to interrupt if he’s busy.”

They giggled but nodded, and led her down a side hall, through a regular sized door, and back into the vast throne room where quite a few people milled about, but not nearly as many as when she’d last been there.

Quietly, the three of them made their way forward to stand near a pillar and watch.

***

Loki despised these tediously boring proceedings. Ninety percent of the time, they were people complaining about things that didn’t need Thor’s, or in this case his, input. They were simply too inept to make the decisions on their own and wanted someone they could cast blame upon if whatever answer they were given didn’t work out as they hoped.

Still, it was part of ruling Asgard and if Thor wanted him to assume the duty, for the moment, he would. That didn’t mean he’d enjoy it, and after the morning he’d been having, he wasn’t in the mood to put up with much.

“If you continue to scowl in such a way, no one will want to approach the throne,” Volstagg said, joining Loki on his march through the throne room.

“It has been a shit morning,” Loki growled. “I left my wife warm and soft in our bed to find a stack of letters growing on my desk. Half of those appear to be written in response to my return to Asgard, all claiming I am unworthy of a second chance at happiness, but none are address with the sender's names, the cowards. It seems I’ve upset more people than previously assumed.”

“Fuck them.” The large man grunted and waved a dismissive hand. “Your Ástvinur is all the proof you need to discredit the naysayers. Throw those out and ignore them.”

He’d planned on just that, but it didn’t mean it annoyed him any less. Yet, it was the second half of the letters he was angry about. “It is the others which disconcert me. Questions as to why sons and daughters sent to Asgard for training in seiðr are being sent home with destroyed hopes and dreams.”

“What?” Volstagg frowned.

“I have yet to understand it myself. Those who are tested should be kept and trained to whatever strength their seiðr allows. Instead, they are being turned away. I don’t understand it, but I will.” Already he’d sent a raven to Svengil, Ellie’s helper, to see if the boy had suffered the same treatment. “I’ve requested three of the children return for subsequent testing. Ones I will conduct myself. Until then, I will keep this information secret.”

“Hm. It appears our Teacher is taking liberties she has not been afforded.”

“Agreed,” Loki murmured. “But until I can prove it, I cannot say anything.”

“You will figure it out.”

In a surprising turn of events, Volstagg’s faith helped offset some of his bad mood, right up until Loki arrived at the foot of the throne. He stared up at it in all its golden splendour and something rolled in his stomach. The idea of it, of sitting in that seat had once been all he could think of, but now…

He turned away and waved a hand, sending magic streaming outward. Between one heartbeat and the next, a desk and ornate chair appeared at the foot of the stairs.

“Loki?” Sif asked, appearing from the shadows as the hall began to fill. “What are you doing?”

“Standing in for Thor. Or rather, sitting.” He moved past the two warriors, nodding to Fandral when he too appeared and sat behind the desk. “Lauren is returned to our chambers?”

“I delivered her there myself. She did well this morning, but I worked her over hard. What is all this?” Sif asked, frowning as she arrived at his side.

“I have no desire to sit up there. Not anymore.” Loki waved to Ulrik, who oversaw these proceedings, to tell the man to begin.

He scurried forward, clearly surprised by Loki’s chosen position, but kept his opinion to himself as he delivered a stack of documents. “Prince Loki. When you’re ready.”

Loki stared at him in exasperation. “Do I look as if I am not ready, Ulrick?”

And thus began the most incredibly boring hour of his life since returning to Asgard. Not even the meeting of Thor’s council had been this tedious, full of droning dullards and their petty non-issues. Land disputes between inferior lords, requests for extensions on taxes when Loki had only to look at the waiting man in all his finery to know without a doubt he lied about not having the finances.

Of course, a few people grumbled about the fact he was seeing them rather than Thor, but when the first of the complaints puffed himself up and muttered about returning another day, Sif on his right and the warriors two on his left made it abundantly clear Thor had personally asked Loki to take on this task. Then, because he was feeling petty, Loki informed the man if he chose to withdraw his place in today’s petitioners, he would not be added back to the list for six months.

Gerard turned a lovely shade of puce but finally got to the point. Luckily for him, the petition placed before Loki was one he found merit in and granted the man permission to renovate what had once been the old barracks on the outskirts of Asgard to be repurposed into a theatre space for the Arts. It appeared to surprise the man, but then people had forgotten he was the God of Revelry long before he was the God of Mischief.

It sent a murmur of approval through the watching court, and Loki dismissed the man with a wave and a request to see the plans for the new building once Gerard had them in place. The idea of having Loki as a patron evidently sat better with the man than that of having him rule on the request in the first place, for Gerard bowed deeply and spouted off in a flurry of flowery prose the likes of which made Loki roll his eyes and look beseechingly up at Sif.

She had only to arch her brow and step threateningly toward Gerard to send the man scurrying away with a babble of thanks and praise for Loki’s wisdom.

Loki’s wisdom was the only thing keeping him from playing tricks to keep from being so damned bored. But, as he was Thor’s stand-in, he assumed that would be a bad idea.

Then, the soft scent tickled his nose. Quiet steps across polished floors filled his ears. The drag of skirts whispered on the air, and he turned unerringly toward Lauren. She stood hidden to one side, her hand resting upon a stone pillar while the twins appeared her ever-present shadow. They’d dressed her for court and though he hadn’t expected her to come, hadn’t thought she’d want to, seeing her as she was made his heart kick and his loins tighten.

They’d painted her eyes with gold and lined them with kohl, attaching lashes of stunning length. The green of her irises were so vibrant, he could see the emerald of them at a distance. He adored the way the twins had painted even her eyebrow, so the gold appeared a mask, giving his wife an ethereal quality, while for once, her circlet, Frigga’s favourite piece, rested on her hair and around her brow without being hidden. Anyone who looked at her could not fail to know exactly who she was dressed in black and gold like a queen.

“My prince?” Ulrik disrupted his thoughts.

“Continue, Ulrik,” Loki murmured, pulling his gaze away. She appeared content to stand aside and watch so he would let her… for now.

“Mektild, wife of Absalon, and daughter of Skuld.”

The woman came forward looking battered and bruised and had Loki straightening in his seat. A child, no more than three, clung to her skirts while another, perhaps a year, remained cradled in her arms.

He came to his feet when she stumbled and nearly fell. “What is this?” She should be under the care of a physician, not struggling up the golden mile with two small children. “Fandral, help her. Volstagg, the children.” More magic wicked from his fingers as he created a bench seat for the woman near his chair.

Fandral took her carefully by the arm, the look of gratitude on the woman’s face barely masking the fear. But when Volstagg crouched to encourage the small boy away from his mother’s feet, he refused to go. “Tis alright, boy. You’re a strong lad. We’ll get you a treat and leave your mother to talk with the prince, yes?”

He shook his head of blond curls with such violence Loki winced. Then, Lauren came through the hushed crowd and walked gracefully across the room. All eyes to turn her way. She set her hand on Volstagg’s shoulder and held out the other for the boy.

“C’mon, buddy. Your mama needs to talk to Prince Loki.”

She smiled, and the boy reached for her hand as awe filled his face — all of three years old and already under Lauren’s spell. It would have made Loki laugh if the moment hadn’t been so fraught with seriousness.

A second toss of magic had a wider divan appearing back and to the right of his desk. Lauren cast him a thankful smile and led the boy toward it, her voice quiet as she spoke to him with Volstagg following a moment later, Mektild’s babe in his arms.

Fandral gently settled the woman on the bench and hovered at her side, as disturbed as the rest of them by her appearance.

“Speak, Mektild. You have my attention,” Loki said as he lowered to the bench at her side.

“Forgive my appearance,” she whispered, clearly distraught to be in such a state, “but I feared to wait any longer.”

“Who has done this to you? Why are you here instead of with a doctor?” Loki asked, aware of the court pressing closer.

“My husband. Absalon.”

A gasp rippled through the court. Loki waved them to silence. “You have the right to divorce him, Mektild. You did not need to come here for that.”

She shook her head. “He said he would kill my babies if I tried. He is an evil man, Prince Loki. I knew if I left, he would hunt me down. He would do what he threatened. So I waited until the time was right and begged Lord Ulrik to allow me this moment. Without the throne’s support, Absalon will kill us.”

“And your father?” Surely this was a matter for her family to address.

“Dead these past five years.”

More murmurs and mutterings filled the room.

Loki continued to ignore them. “Where is he?”

“Kjell pass. We have a home in the mountains there.”

He stared at her in stunned amazement. “You came from Kjell with two children? Walked?”

She shook her head. “I stole a horse. I will pay whatever penance you deem-”

Loki cut her off with a wave of her hand. “Is the horse injured or in anyway mistreated?”

“No, my prince. Perhaps a little exhausted and underfed, I pushed her very hard to get here, but otherwise, she is healthy.”

“Then we will return the mare to her owner and explain things. I doubt they will find fault in your actions.” He looked to Fandral whose face was hard as stone. “Take five men. Bring me this Absalon.”

Fandral bowed deeply. “It will be my absolute pleasure, Prince Loki.”

Loki waved a page boy over. “Fetch Selvina. She is to see Mektild settled in a guest suite and a doctor brought to see to her injuries. She’ll require a maid to assist with the children until she is well. Have the barns check her horse and see to its care.” When he returned his attention to Mektild, there were tears in her eyes and more pouring down her face.

“Thank you, Prince Loki. Thank you.”

He nodded and patted her hand. “The law is clear. Your abuse is grounds for divorce and compensation in one form or another from your spouse. That he threatened your life and that of your children is an escalation of intent. By this time tomorrow, Mektild, you will be divorced and what lands were his will now be yours.”

“What if she lies?”

Loki slowly looked up and over at Sal. “You doubt her sincerity, Lord Sal?”

He shrugged. “There are two sides to every story.”

“And there are always people who will take the word of a man over that of a woman.”

Loki flinched. Never had he heard Lauren speak so coldly. He looked up to find her standing before the boy, her hand on his head as he clutched her skirt. “Lauren love. As I am the God of them, it is effortless for me to know if Mektild is lying. I assure you, she is not.”

“But that doesn’t seem to matter to you, Lord Sal, does it?” She prowled forward, grace and power radiating in every line of her body. “Y’all can look at her and think, what? That somehow she deserved it? That she was askin’ for it? Or maybe she’s a shrew, and this was the one time when Absalon lost his temper?” She stalked right up to Sal and glared at him, waves of anger radiating from her along with righteous indignation. “There will always be men who think a woman is lyin’ about a man raisin’ his hand to her, but there will always be women who will stand in front of her and tell you to keep your pea-brained opinions to yourself. Whatever the reason, there will never be a good enough to raise a hand to anyone you’re supposed to love and cherish. There is no excuse for abusin’ your spouse or significant other, and that goes for both men and women.”

“Well said!” Ulrik clapped approvingly, and soon others followed.

Sal’s fist slowly closed, the only sign he was angry. “It appears, princess, we keep getting off on the wrong foot.”

Lauren’s chin jacked even higher. “Perhaps your feet are just wrong, Lord Sal.”

He stepped back and bowed to her before walking away.

“I believe in givin’ people the benefit of the doubt, Lord Sal. Perhaps you should try to see the positive side of life before jumpin’ to the worst conclusion.”

He paused and looked back over his shoulder. “You are young yet, princess. One day that blush of naivete will fade. Then perhaps we can be friends.”

“Compassion isn’t naivete. It’s just compassion. And I truly hope my ability to look for the best in people never fades. I have no desire to become cynical in my maturity. It isn’t in my nature.”

Sal gave a sad smile and tilted his head before continuing into the crowd.

It was clear Lauren was upset. He could feel it, certainly, but it was the whisper of violet magic around her hands and the way her gown rippled in the unseen wind that had Loki rising swiftly to his feet to calm her.

“Lauren, my sweet. Be at ease.”

“Why must people be so hateful?” she whispered, looking up at him with such sadness in her eyes it made his heart hurt.

He cupped her cheek and rubbed his thumb over her soft skin. “Life makes people that way. Not everyone has someone as wonderful as you to keep them on track.” Loki kissed her gently on her glossy pink lips.

“I’m feelin’ really outta sorts, Loki,” she whispered.

“That’s alright, love. You did beautifully, and you look amazing. Why don’t you take some time in mother’s garden?” She’d said it made her feel at peace last night. Hopefully it would do the same today. “I can send you if you like? There are a good thirty minutes till lunch. You can sit with the Voktere for a while.”

She nodded slowly, her eyes drifting up to the half helm of horns he wore. “The twins can come and get me.”

“I will come get you and escort you to the barns. I can call a short recess to do that much.”

“Alright.” She gave a soft sigh, then smiled wickedly. “Leave the horns on, peaches.”

“Naughty,” he purred before flicking his wrist to create her exit. “Go. Find your balance, darling.”

Before she could go anywhere, she had to detach the boy from her skirts. He hadn't left her shadow for a moment when she'd stared down Sal. Lauren crouched and cupped his cherub cheeks. “Okay, Leif. You can go back to your mama now.”

“Bye bye,” he chirped, before pressing up on his toes to kiss her cheek.

Though the word came from only a few mouths the sense of awwwe filled the room. People smiled on Lauren and her gentleness, her ease with children. Nothing please Asgardians more than children, and to see Lauren so at ease with them after losing Frigga had a sense of relief lifting from the people.

Leif skipped over to his mother, Volstagg having already handed back her infant, and took her hand. “That lady's nice, mommy.”

“She certainly is,” Mektild murmured, dropping into a curtsey for Lauren and mouthing, “Thank you.”

“He's a sweet boy.” Lauren glanced at the twins.

Her maids nodded their understanding; clearly this had changed whatever plans Lauren had initially had, before stepping through the portal. It closed with a snap, and Loki turned to Ulrik while Selvina bustled forward to take charge of Mektild.

With a flick of his wrist, Loki removed the extra seating while returning to his desk. “Continue, Ulrik.”

“Yes, my prince.”

If Volstagg and Sif both smiled approvingly, Loki chose to ignore it.

***

Lauren let her fingers dangle in the water, watching the Voktere's scales gleam like that of colourful fish. They jostled one another, each looking for a stroke of her fingers, but she was lost to thoughts and didn't really notice.

Maybe the twins were right. Maybe she wasn't ready to mingle with people. It seemed like everytime she tried, she ended up speaking out on someone else's nonsense.

People were going to think her rude, or too brash. Her opinion was going to send them scurrying for the hills, but what Sal had said was just so… wrong! Mektild's face had grown so pale when he‘d spoken such words. Lauren just wanted to slap him in his too smug mouth.

The calm she'd found sitting in the garden was evaporating thanks to newfound anger, and she closed her eyes to breathe it away. One man's opinion shouldn't matter, but it often did. And if that one man was powerful in Thor's court, it could make all the difference.

Mektild deserved better than to be called a liar by someone who'd likely never had a nasty word spat at him in his life.

Little chirps of distress had her looking down at the Voktere poking their heads above the water. “It's okay. I'm fine.” But some of the flowers around her were taking on a decidedly wilted look.

Loki had said her magic appeared tied to her emotions. Being this angry and not paying attention seemed to be affecting them as well. Pushing thoughts of Sal aside, Lauren focused on the sun on her face, the creatures playing with her fingers, and the feel of the grass beneath her bare feet. It appeared she was going to have an issue keeping her shoes on when there was such nice grass to tickle her toes.

Lauren reached out and skimmed her fingers over the petals of the drooping blooms, perking them all back up with a twist of her magic.

Earth Mother magic. The idea of it both pleased and frightened her. It all seemed a tremendous responsibility, but no one seemed overly inclined to push her into it before she was ready which was good. She needed time to wrap her head around all these changes.

A rustle in the bushes caught her attention. It was only a small rustle, but there were so few animals in Asgard, any movement in the underbrush was cause for curiosity. It came a little closer, and a little closer again.

Then the Voktere were gone. One minute they were bumping her fingers, the next, vanished. Concern grew in Lauren's heart. Animals only reacted that way to a predator.

Her gaze locked on the underbrush, she reached slowly for the dagger strapped to her thigh and pulled it free. Loki's name rested on the tip of her tongue, but when the wedge-shaped black head poked out from between the green leaves, Lauren relaxed.

“Seriously, peaches? Are you tryin’ to give me a heart attack?” Lauren shoved the dagger back into its sheath. “You're really pullin’ the same stunt as with Sif?” She shook her head, but when he pulled back into the foliage, Lauren sighed. “Well, c'mon then. I'd like to know what you look like.”

A forked tongue flicked out, then the black snout followed. He slithered from within the leaves to curl in the grass at her feet.

Lauren shook her head in amazement a second time. “Ain't you just somethin’ to see. Such black scales. You're like a little piece of night layin’ in the grass.”

He rose up out of his coil, and she inhaled in awe. “Oh, peaches! Your belly scales are so pretty!” Each one shone iridescent in its stunning jewel tone.

She lowered her hand, and the snake slithered into her palm before curling around her arm. It was only a few feet long which surprised her. For some reason, she expected Loki in snake form to be far bigger. Kind of like when he went wolf, but then, hadn't he played in the woods with her as a regular sized wolf? Still, his body was warm, his scales soft, and damn if he wasn't the prettiest snake she'd ever seen.

“This is real cute, peaches, and you've made me feel better.” Lauren gently rubbed his chin and stroked a finger over his head. If a snake could preen, this one did, his forked tongue flicking against her and making Lauren giggle.

“Lauren.”

She blinked at Loki standing a few feet away. His eyes were wide with fear. “Wait… if you're there, then who's this?” Lauren asked, frowning down at the snake rubbing his head on her fingers.

“Lauren darling, I don't want to alarm you, but could you please put him down?”

Loki took another step forward only for the snake wrapped around her arm to turn and hiss at Loki so hard Lauren could see the large fangs snap down when he opened his mouth.

“Oh, my stars… Loki…” What the hell had she gotten herself into now?

A dagger appeared in his hand as he held up the other and hissed back. The two exchanged a series of snake appropriate noises, hissing and carrying on as Lauren sat very still. She wasn’t afraid she’d be bitten, after all, if the snake wanted to bite her, it could have done so already. It was just watching Loki and the snake talk to each other was fascinating.

“Well… that’s… interesting.”

She blinked at Loki. “What?”

“He says you are his, he came for you, and now he’s not going anywhere.”

Lauren looked down at the snake who proceeded to slither up her arm and wrap around her neck where he lay in a loop like a living copy of her torque. “Oh! I… um…” What in the world was she supposed to say about that? “Ha, okay?”

Loki chuckled and sat down beside her after vanishing his dagger. He reached out and ran his fingers over the snake’s scales causing her warm necklace to ripple slightly. “I was saying to Thor you would collect your own familiars in time, but I didn’t expect them to arrive so soon.”

She blinked a few times. “Familiars?”

“Earth Mother’s always have animal familiars. Ones of different talents. Some offer protection. Some comfort. Some are helpful with magic. What comes, comes. The animals are yours and will be with you for life.”

“Really?”

Loki laughed and nodded. “Of course! They come to you in the Norns time, and through quirks of your gifts their lives extend to match yours.”

“Then why were you so worried about him?” Lauren reached up and touched the snake around her throat.

“Darling,” Loki smirked and shook his head. “His kind are called the Midnight Jewel of Death for a reason. They are extremely deadly. One is almost guaranteed to die from such a viper's bite.”

“Oh!” she gasped and lightly patted the scaled body. “No biting.”

“We have come to an agreement. He is only to bite someone if they attack you or harm you. And he isn’t to eat your kitten.” A twist of his wrist had a black satchel appearing in his hand. On its face were the snakes of his symbol, entwined in gold. “And I think it best he rides in here, rather than around your throat. The fact you have a snake familiar should probably remain private for the time being.”

“I suppose. Though I think we’ll have to tell the twins.”

Loki held out his hand, and the snake unwrapped from her throat.

“So, what’s his name?” she asked.

“You should already know. You named him.”

The wicked grin breaking on his mouth had Lauren arching a brow. “I did?”

He encouraged the snake into the pouch. “Peaches.”

“Excuse me?”

“He said you called him Peaches when he first appeared. That’s now his name.”

Lauren snorted a giggle. “I have a super poisonous snake named Peaches as a familiar?”

“And you carry him in a satchel on your hip.” Loki drew her to her feet and looped the strap across her body.

“This fairy tale keeps gettin’ stranger.” She reached up and caressed the long curve of Loki's golden horn. “Good thing I’ve always liked a strange tale.”

“Very good indeed,” Loki chuckled and kissed her firmly on the mouth.

Next Chapter

[nusaran]

Fictober18 day8: I know you do. 

Fanfiction: Star Wars the Old Republic

prompt order upload is a bit out of whack now. Sorry. 

For such a harsh world, Dromund Kaas had breath-taking sunsets. Maybe it was the case just where Marr’s stronghold was. In the upper northern hemisphere where the jungles had long stopped growing, with the stronghold set up in a mountain near a large sprawling tundra. When they were in Kaas City, she never really saw the sun sets from the Citadel. Their work would last until the early hours of the morning if they were needed there. For now she could admire the glittering of the fallen snow in the setting sun. Almost enough to make her forget that they had just returned from Bergeren and that war was looming beyond the horizon. Tonight they could just rest and by the end of the week they’d be at the parade that was currently being planned. Vowrawn meddling with the tapestry that was supposed to be displayed again and she could already hear the newly appointed Darth Baras raging at them. Those two had been at each other’s throats the second Darth Baras was given the seat. A seat that Marr would not have given to Baras.

The skin on her shoulders prickled. Speak of the man and he shall appear. She looked over her shoulder to see Marr stepping into her chambers with his armour and mask still on. Must have left as soon as the transmission to the rest of the Dark Council.

“Were they being tedious?” she asked fully turning around.

He sighed while rolling his shoulders and growled, “Baras….”

She smiled sympathetically at him as he lifted his hands to remove the mask. Even with the hood still up, she could see the exhaustion lines around his forehead.

“What did he blather on this time?” she asked stepping towards him.

“Edenye,” he rubbed his forehead, “I’d rather not think about that right now.”

She frowned up at him, arms stopped mid-movement. Where was this coming from?

“Not now. Later,” he amended quickly leaning forward to lean his forehead against hers, “We finally have some space.”

“That we do,” she answered now gripping at his shoulders, “next week is the parade.”

He huffed, “Vowrawn has completely overtaken the preparations.”

She rolled her eyes now grinning, “Why am I not surprised?”

“Would not be Vowrawn if it wasn’t,” he teased, “But not what I want to talk about.”

“What do you have in mind?” she asked craning her neck.

He did not answer, stepping away gently prying her hands of his shoulders. Confused she stared at him, heart now burning painfully in her chest. What was he doing? Or more… should she be worried? Clasping her hands in front of her chest she watched as he took out a small headpiece from one of his chest pockets.

Oh.

“I don’t know if Atrea ever explained to you what her headpiece meant?” he asked cautiously looking her straight in the eyes as if searching for something.

She shook her head. Atrea had worn her headpiece everywhere. Mostly to formal functions. But never had she said why. Neither had she asked.

“It is an old tradition,” he explained holding the piece in the light, small stones sparkling in the incident light, “If a Sith was…,” he paused, “wanted to show their commitment to their partner, they’d gift them a piece jewelry or in the case of Purebloods face jewelry.”

She swallowed. That meant…

“And you are giving me one,” she stated lamely.

He shot her a small smile holding the piece to her, “It belonged to my mother.”

Her chest felt light when she reached out her hands to grasp his. There were other things he wanted to say, the words buzzing between them.

“And now it belongs to you,” he said pressing the piece into her hands, closing his hands around hers.

Her throat had closed up, words failing her. It had simple design, but it must have cost a fortune to have it made nonetheless.

“Thank you,” she breathed out looking him in the eyes.

He stepped closer, embracing her so her ear was against his throat.

“I…,” he started before being interrupted by a beeping on her desk.

Groaning he dropped his face into the top of her hair. Her stomach sank in disappointment when he let go, stepping away so they were appropriately apart and so he could put his mask back on for whoever was calling them. The loss of contact tore at the bond and she wanted to rub her arms with how heavy her shoulders felt.  

She pressed the button to receive the transmission and bowed out of her chambers when a pixelated Baras appeared.

Later, when everyone had passed out from exhaustion, she slipped into Marr’s chambers when she knew that the late night Council session had ended. Why another had been called so late she did not know. Except that Darth Baras had called it. The way fury sparked in the bond during the session, it could only mean that it was not good. As if any of those sessions had anything good coming out of them. He had not noticed her and stood with his back to her bent over datapads. Their bond was eerily quiet and anxiety gnawed at her nerves now.

“Marr,” she whispered softly into the room.

He twitched. Concerned she frowned as she walked to his side. Something was bothering him.

“Edenye,” he turned around already unclasping his mask.

“What happened?” she asked cupping his jaw.

He sighed at first, pinching the bridge of his nose while the other hand drew around her waist.

“Baras…, at first he plunges into a war we were not ready for yet and now,” he inhaled through his teeth before looking at her with his nerves raw and visible, “he claims to be the Emperor’s voice.”

She stilled, hand dropping from his jaw in her shock. The Voice? Oh no… oh no no. That meant… the Emperor was moving more openly again. After centuries of relative silence. When had been the last time a Voice had resided on the Dark Council?

“So…,” she croaked and could not finish her thought.

He was coming for her. The warning replayed in her mind and she felt her knees buckle under her weight.

“I got you,” Marr’s voice rumbled in her ear.

She must have lost her balance and he had caught her.

“Vowrawn claims he is not, but we cannot but acknowledge him until he can prove his claim,” Marr said urgently, “He cannot harm you.”

“Not yet,” she muttered into his neck.

Marr did not reply, knowing that she was right. It was only a matter of time before a demand like that would be made, should Baras be the real Voice.

“Let’s hope Vowrawn is right,” she whispered, “Or we kill Baras.”

Marr stiffened at her last sentence.

“And risk open dissent? Baras has convinced Thanaton, Mortis…,” he sounded lost.

“I heard of Baras,” she said softly, “He has spies everywhere. This man does not act openly and that is how you beat him. Beat him at his own game.”

“Of course,” he spat bitterly gripping her slightly tighter, “More intrigues to keep track of.”

“Your seat will depend on it,” she muttered against his skin, “If they find out…”

“I know,” he growled, “If they know about you and me, we both will be lucky to have enough time to escape.”

She stayed quiet, closing her eyes in her grief. So close… They had been so close to happiness that they could get in these times. Why couldn’t they be content? Was this too much to ask? If the Emperor ordered her death and by association Marr’s, some members of the Dark Council would happily comply. His seat would be safe if no one knew about them.

“You put it on,” Marr stated stunned, one of his hands touching the top of her head where she had braided it in.

“Of course,” she said pulling her head up to look at him properly, “and don’t think ….”

She could not even finish her sentence before he kissed her.

“I love you,” he muttered, “don’t ever think that I don’t.”

“I know you do,” she answered when he let her go.

“Then you understand why I will order you to be cautious from now on?” he raised an eyebrow in her direction.

Oh devious… she had to laugh now.

[laqualassiel]

Day Two. Write a detailed description of your Warden’s appearance.

What is the one thing your warden hates about their appearance?

For a long time, Marian hated the fern-like scars on her face and chest. The new scars were obvious and difficult to hide. Everyone stared at them, which made Marian uncomfortable and irritable. She hated the scarring, not because of the story behind them, but because no one ever understood when she tried to explain it to them. People made assumptions about her scars, then had the gall to be offended when Marian told them those assumptions were wrong.

What do they like about their appearance?

Marian loved her long hair. She and Alim had a bet on who could go longest without cutting their hair. Marian had many fond memories of that bet, from the intricate hairstyles Alim and Marian learned and Irving’s fondly exasperated mandate that they keep their hair from interfering with their studies (no one wanted a repeat of the fire blast accident; burnt hair smelled awful) or cut it to a manageable length. Being forced to cut her hair during the Blight pained Marian, no matter how necessary it was.

How is your Warden viewed by others physically – are they beautiful/handsome? Are they average? Hideous?

Before the extensive scars on her face, Marian was the recipient of a number of crushes in Kinloch Hold. While not gorgeous like Queen Moira was reputed to be, Marian was considered by many a pretty woman.

After Marian’s face was scarred, very few people were able to look past the eye catching marks. Most would still agree that Marian was a pretty woman, but all too often Marian heard remarks that her face had been marred by her scars. Many found Marian’s scars unsettling.

What kind of clothes do they like to wear when they’re not fighting?

Marian’s tastes in clothing changed drastically after she was Conscripted by Duncan. In the Circle, Marian’s preferred mage robes were comfortable for reading various tomes and discussing magical theory. Outside Kinloch Hold, Marian found them less than desirable. Marian came to prefer sturdier fabrics that held up to the general wear of long distance travel, in varying shades of brown that did not show stains as easily. Her soft soled shoes were traded for sturdy boots and her robes for shirts and trousers allowing a greater range of motion. Marian preferred long sleeves and high collars when possible.

Do they wear any jewelry?

While in the Circle, Marian only wore her Enchanter’s ring, marking her as a full mage of Kinloch Hold. After Joining the Wardens, Marian returned the ring to Wynne, as Marian felt she no longer had a right to wear it. Marian wore a small pendant filled with the blood from the Joining, in honor of Daveth and Ser Jory. After Zevran’s proposal, Marian had her ear pierced so she could wear the gold earring.

Are they fashionable or practical?

There were little options for fashion in the Circle. The robes given to the mages served to designate rank. Unlike the Orlesian Circles, Knight-Commander Greagoir did not permit ‘superfluous decoration,’ so choice of apparel was limited. The only outlets for personal expression in one’s appearance was through hairstyle and tattoos, the latter which was heavily discouraged. Marian often spent her free time with Alim, pulling and twisting each other’s hair into various, elaborate hairstyles. Marian developed a skill for styling various lengths and textures of hair to compliment the wearer’s face and outfit.

During the Blight, this became one of the ways for Marian to relax. Styling her companions’ hair gave her a sense of normality and reminded her of simpler times.

What does their armour/robes like?

Marian traded her red Enchanter robes for sturdy knee high boots, breeches, and tunics on the journey to Ostagar. As mage robes - stitched with protective enchantments by dextrous Tranquil - were an extremely rare and expensive commodity outside the Circles, Marian settled for vambraces and a leather jerkin. The Warden cache in Denerim was a gift from the Maker, as Marian was able to find mage armor - lightweight but sturdy enough to protect from most attacks. The silver and blue armor also looked much more professional than what Marian cobbled together before.

[For reference, see the mage warden armor from Dragon Age 2.]

Have they any noticeable scars?

The only scar noticeable at first glance was the scars on Marian’s face. Other scars gained in battle were scattered across Marian’s body, as before Wynne joined the party Morrigan and Marian were the only healers - and neither of them would call healing their specialty.

Go into as much detail as possible in your description.

Marian had a fair skinned heart-shaped face, softly pointed chin, and high cheek bones. Later, her skin tanned and she gained a brush of freckles across her nose and cheeks. Her eyes were large and dark blue, set below arched brows. Her nose was small and straight, above full lips. Marian’s waist length black hair was at first pulled back from her face, left to tumble down her back or woven into styles of various complexity. After leaving the Tower, she braided it tightly until she cut it to a chin length bob with sweeping bangs to the right. Marian was short and petite, with small feet and delicate hands. Were it not for the unusual and eye catching red fern like scar spanning the right side of her face, Marian would be a rather unassuming young woman.

[ruffsficstuffplace]

The Keeper of the Grove (Part 57)

To Weiss’ disappointment, she wasn’t going to be able to manufacture elemental or regular ammo and explosives any time soon.

The Guild, the Forge, and the Roost required that the Terrace certify that she had much more control over her powers, and that certification would take at least six weeks, with three-four visits per week. And with Penny advising her against any more physical or magical exertion in preparation for her first trip tomorrow afternoon, there really was nothing to do but laze around, or watch Blake and Penny finish their costumes in the living room and wait for them to ask for input.

“Want to go see my human disguise?” Ruby offered.

Weiss agreed, and off the two went into their room. Ruby put on her full Keeper of the Grove armour: enchanted cloak, the hood pulled up over her head, and the same mask she'd worn when they'd staged Weiss' death, as intimidating as the real one but without the fear hexes.

“Ready to see my super awesome human disguise, Weiss?” Ruby asked, waggling her eyebrows underneath the mask.

“Don't keep me in suspense!” Weiss replied as she sat in her hammock.

“Okay! Close your eyes and don’t open them until I say so!”

As Weiss obeyed, she wondered just what exactly she would look like, while Ruby giggled in excitement as she put it on.

“You can open your eyes now!”

Weiss did.

“Ta-da!” Ruby cried, throwing her arms out.

She had pulled off her hood and her mask, the latter stashed inside her cloak. She was now wearing a top hat similar to Abner's sans the bullet holes, the tears, and the weathering, so large it completely hid her horns and animal ears.

Weiss stared blankly at her.

“Pretty clever, right?” Ruby asked, waggling her eyebrows again.

Weiss groaned. “Ruby, that is the most stupid, paper-thin disguise I have ever seen in my entire life! It’s just you with a top hat on, who's going to be fooled by that?!”

Knock-knock.

The door opened.

Blake peered in. “Hey Whyss, hau low d'yu--” her eyes widened, and her ears and tail perked to full attention. “Who'err you?!” she cried as she threw the door open and jumped back in fright, her hands in front of her with her claws out.

Penny rushed in, arms and eyes glowing in warning. “Detecting--!” she paused at the doorway, and blinked a few times. “Oh! Hello, Ruby! I'm sorry, your disguise completely fooled my optic sensors!”

Blake whipped her head back and forth between Ruby and Penny, the horror on her face turning into confusion. <That's Ruby…?!> she whispered.

<It's her,> Weiss said with difficulty.

<My magical aura sensors can not be fooled as easily, Blake,> Penny said.

Blake turned to Ruby. She pulled her top hat on and off several times, showing them how she pulled her ears up and stuffed them and her horns underneath.

Blake just stared at her in ever growing disbelief, her face going through a number of expressions, none of them pleasant.

Qrow came up. <The hell is all this—oh, it's just Ruby and her human disguise, got it.>

Weiss looked at Ruby, then at the Fae crowded in the doorway. “Were you guys SERIOUSLY all fooled by that?”

Qrow, Penny, and Blake nodded.

<Excuse me...> Blake muttered as she walked away in a daze. <I just need to… question everything I thought was true...>

“Blake is currently suffering an existential crisis, and needs some time to pick up the pieces of her shattered perception of what is reality,” Penny translated.

Weiss looked at Ruby, who was now holding the hat in her hands, then back at Qrow and Penny. “Are you all fucking with me right now?!”

“I am not trying to deceive you in any way, Weiss,” Penny replied.

“She got me bad the first time she showed it off to me,” Qrow said. “You're probably not freaking out because you two are so close you can always tell it's her in a heartbeat.”

Weiss gritted her teeth. “Never mind… now, before I have to wonder who are these 'mysterious humans' wearing the same costumes as my friends, what are Blake and Penny's disguises like?”

“Blake ties a bow over her ears, and I have a headband with slots cut in to look like my ears are a novelty accessory,” Penny replied.

Weiss stared at her, then at Ruby, unable to speak.

Blake walked back in the doorway, one hand rubbing her temples. <Weiss: how low do you want your skirts?> she asked, her other hand making a line back and forth across her thighs.

Weiss got up off her hammock. <I'll just show you...> she replied in broken Actaeon.

Later that night, Blake finished their costumes, and Weiss' wardrobe had been modified more to her taste: the skirts cut higher over her knees, some with the sleeves and most of the topmost sections removed entirely, with the leftover fabric turned into decoration, or part of her new jackets, coats, and stockings that helped add some extra protection from the elements, natural or magical.

With a curtain set up in the living room for changing and her comm-crystal as a mirror, Weiss dressed up in her new and modified clothes, then showed them off to the others, going through the whole gamut of everyday wear, gowns and outfits for celebrations and special occasions, working clothes, and even some extreme weather gear in case she’d ever find need to venture out of the Bastion and travel to the rest of the Valley.

“Why in the world would I need a thunder wolf fur coat?” Weiss asked as she nuzzled her face into the soft white fluff around the collar. “I mean, I don’t mind, it’s so fluffy I could die, but isn’t this too warm for the Fury and too heavy for the Flood?”

“There’s places here that you’re going to wish you had it if you don't already,” Ruby said. “You might not ever need to go down to the Coldburrow Caverns, but hey: never hurts to be prepared!”

“I've never heard of any place that cold anywhere here in Acropolis,” Weiss replied.

“Plenty of secrets in the Valley, Weiss,” Qrow said. “Lots of them we’re still trying to figure out.”

“If you say so,” Weiss said, shrugging the coat off as she was already beginning to sweat in it.

The impromptu fashion show ended with her Eve of the Ether costume.

Blake had taken all manner of liberties with the design, both because Weiss weaver’s coat was armour first and foremost, and no one thought she would look good with the most popular—and as Weiss' learned then, accurate—depiction of Samaria:

Crouched low to the ground, a repeater in one hand and a hookshot-dagger in the other, both loaded with potent poisons that would ruin the days of anything short of a Soul Eater, with her hood thrown over her head, and only the emerald eyes and “fangs” of her Gila Monster mask peering out from under it.

Weiss’ version was much more regal and dignified: standing proud with Myrtenaster in one hand and her gauntlet in the other; her hair left untied and flowing out from her hood and down her shoulders in carefully brushed locks; her belt of mediums and equipment tied around her waist; and a slit in the front of her dress, with enchanted steel-silk stockings to compensate for the exposure, and some risque elements to it.

Completing the look was her weaver's mask, now modified to look like a mischievous and sinister fox, the eyes an icy blue, and a voice modulator just like the one Ruby had in hers.

She checked herself out for far longer than all the other outfits, making sure that everything was perfect—you never got a second chance at a first impression, after all.

“Come on, princess!” Qrow called out. “Night shift’s coming soon!”

“Yeah, let us see, let us see!” Ruby added.

Weiss sighed, and shut off her crystal. She supposed she had done everything she could… except…

From the outside, the others watched as a cool, frosty mist started to pour out from under the curtain, before Weiss threw it aside, and the fog rushed out to the others.  She stepped out with slow, measured strides, thin layers of ice on her clothes glimmering like jewelry.

Ruby’s jaw dropped.

Weiss smiled as she stepped up to her, carefully put Myrtenaster under her chin, and pushed it back up.

“You’ve got a little something...” she hummed as she daintily tapped the side of her mask, her voice coming out husky, with an unnerving, ethereal echo—a sound that’d send a chill down your spine and a very different sort of shiver elsewhere.

“Holy hell...” Qrow muttered. “Should I start calling you Ice Queen instead, princess?”

The eyes of Weiss’ mask twinkled. “Whatever pleases you, peasant,” she purred.

Qrow chuckled. “Well alright then, your majesty.”

Blake smiled and hummed in pride, giving her two thumbs up.

Penny beamed. “You look very intimidating and attractive, Weiss!”

“You guys really think so...?”

“Hell yeah!” Ruby said, a line of drool still running down the side of her mouth. “You look hot, Weiss!”

Weiss felt her face heat up. “Thanks... but could you hold back on the compliments when we're in public? I don’t want things to get... weird.”

“What’s so weird about me telling you how good you look...?”

“People might think we’re actually a couple, when it’s just our costumes,” Weiss replied. “And before any of you ask: I only agreed to this because it’d be cheaper and easier for Blake, alright?” she said, pointing Myrtenaster at the others.

After Penny translated, all of them nodded.

“Glad we got that cleared up,” Weiss said, before she dispelled her magic, and took off her mask. “Hey, Ruby? Can we talk some more in our room?”

“Sure!” Ruby said, getting up off the couch. “But better make it quick, most of us are leaving for the night shift soon!” she said as she headed there.

“I’ll skip changing until after, then,” Weiss said as she followed after her.

Qrow waited until the door to their room was shut. When it didn’t look like either of them were stepping out soon, he turned to the others, and whispered, <Is Weiss fucking with us, or does she just have one of the most impressive cases of denial I have ever seen in my entire life?>

<It feels like there's some sadistic author teasing us with Unresolved Sexual Tension for as long as they possibly can,> Blake grumbled.

<The disconnect between what my sensors detect, the evidence I have on record, and what she claims to believe is indeed jarring,> Penny said. <But didn’t her father also take quite a while to realize he was really more interested in Summer than Raven?>

<That was with my sister distracting him, and as far as I know, there isn’t anyone else trying to melt the Ice Queen’s heart,> Qrow replied. <Well, unless I missed one or the both of you making your own moves...>

Blake wrinkled her nose. <Ugh. I am DONE with romance for a LONG while, until I’m sure I won’t make such a horrible mistake ever again...>

<For a variety of reasons, I’m not romantically interested in Weiss, either,> Penny replied. <Besides, she’s really not my ‘type.’>

Meanwhile, in Ruby and Weiss' room...

“Could you give me a minute to gather my thoughts?” Weiss asked as she put away her mask and equipment.

“Sure!” Ruby replied. “I’ll just be in my nest.”

“Thanks,” Weiss replied.

She had thought that she’d have a well-articulated, thoughtful speech all ready to go by the time she put away her mediums in a locked box, but she still had absolutely nothing by the time she sat down in front of Ruby.

A long, awkward silence passed as they just looked at each other, Weiss fidgeting and feeling her face grow warm.

There were so many things she could have asked her to lead up to her actual question, make the transition smoother.

She could have asked how she felt about everyone assuming she and her were a couple and getting intimate (and on a regular basis, no less), how she felt about learning that Weiss was a lesbian, too, and how she felt about everyone but Zwei walking on them in compromising situations.

She could have asked why she so readily offered to snuggle with her to make her feel better, what she really thought when she noticed Weiss’ more interesting reactions to her massaging her, why she lent her the Summer plushie even if it was obviously as precious to her as the Eluna plushie was to her.

She could have even tried to get some more information straight from the source, asked her why if human/Fae relationships were such a taboo for the rest of their society, why was everyone so unquestionably supportive and enthusiastic of them, just because Ruby was the Keeper?

“You want to try this again tomorrow morning, Weiss?” Ruby asked. “I really need to get ready soon.”

“Do you like me?” Weiss blurted. “As in, do you want me to be your girlfriend? Hold hands in public, and kiss, and...” she tried to make a sexy animal noise.

Ruby snickered.

Weiss frowned and blushed.

“Sorry.”

“Well?” Weiss asked. “Do you...?”

“Yes,” Ruby replied.

Weiss blinked. “… What do you mean, ‘Yes’?” she asked, her cheeks burning brighter red.

“I mean, ‘Yes,’ I like you, I want to be your girlfriend, I want to hold your hand in public, kiss you, and--” she made a sexy animal noise--”with you.”

Weiss stared at her, mouth slowly falling open.

“I'm being completely honest with you, Weiss, because I really, really, really like you, and more than that, I hate lying,” Ruby said before she got up and went to the equipment rack.

“If Aunt Raven hadn’t lied to dad, if dad hadn’t lied to mom, and if Uncle Qrow hadn’t lied to the Council and the other Watchers, then maybe they wouldn’t be dead, and he wouldn’t have had to raise me alone all these years,” she said as she put her cloak on.

She picked up the Keeper’s mask, currently wrapped up in a magic-proof cloth. “And besides: I’ve watched enough holos to know that whenever someone is attracted to someone else, and they decide to keep it a secret, it just makes things all weird and awkward between them, and they all find out in the end, especially when it’s going to make things even weirder and more awkward between them than if they just came clean in the first place.”

Ruby picked up her scythe, then turned to Weiss. “Why would you even do that to yourself...?”

“...”

“I need to go, Weiss,” Ruby said, as she opened the door. “Good night.”

“… Good night, Ruby...” Weiss muttered, long after the door had closed behind her.

Penny was the only one left in the house with Weiss, and the two of them busied themselves with picking up and hauling her clothes both old and new into her and Ruby's room.

“I'm detecting a higher than normal level of stress hormones in your system, and a dramatic downwards shift in your mood beside, Weiss,” she said as they worked. “Is something the matter?”

“Yeah...” Weiss replied. “I… really need to ask Ruby to build some trunks or wardrobes one of these days, this place is a mess...”

Penny frowned, clearly unconvinced, before she nodded and said, “I'll inform her for you, and see what materials we can spare for it.”

“Thanks, Penny,” Weiss said.

Penny left to maintain herself before charging up in preparation for tomorrow. Weiss spent a long time laying in her hammock, gently rocking back and forth, the Summer plushie left in Ruby’s nest. Eventually, she fell asleep and found herself back in the dreamscape.

This night, it was just the blank white expanse.

Her grandparents walked up from behind, Nick put a rough, calloused hand on her shoulder. “You want to talk about it, sweetheart?” he asked.

“No...” Weiss replied. “Grandpa, grandma? Can you guys please leave? I... need to be alone right now...”

They nodded somberly.

“Call if you need us, we’ll be around,” Nick said, before walked away, and faded into nothing.

“We love you, Weiss—no matter what happens,” Freya said, before she did the same.

Now all alone, Weiss sat down, and began to think.

[lelantusposts]

Our Love is like a Storybook Story

The intro to the Steve/Tony Fairytale AU I’m writing! Moving it over from Imzy to here :D

Once upon a time, in the kingdom of Midgard, there was a quick-witted thief who wasn’t really a thief and a golden-haired prince cursed into an everlasting sleep that wasn’t quite so everlasting.

Tony ran along the dimly lit stone corridor and the shouts and heavy footfalls of the palace guard in hot pursuit behind him echoed in the hallway as they drew inexorably closer.

Tony silently cursed and put on an extra spurt of speed, running faster.

Fortunately, unlike the guards chasing him, Tony wore neither heavy armour nor a sword. Dressed in plain breeches and a loose tunic, Tony at first glance could have passed for a young page or stable hand; as one of the countless town boys employed by the king and queen to ensure that palace ran like a well oiled machine. It helped that even though he was 19, most people thought Tony was a few years younger. But if someone took the time to look closer, then they would be quite surprised by just what Tony was hiding underneath his youthful, earnest facade.

Although they looked simple, the breeches Tony wore actually concealed a multitude of small and cleverly hidden pockets which in turn held many interesting and important items, including but not limited to: a set of custom-designed lock picks, a number of coins in various currencies, face makeup, and the personal correspondence of several minor nobles. If one were to look beneath Tony’s clothes, then they would immediately see that he had a rather shocking number of knives strapped to various parts of his body that were easily concealed by the cut of his shirt and pants when he was dressed. And finally, if one were to look inside the battered satchel Tony wore slung across his body, then they would find several glittering rings, a few lovely pairs of spangled earrings, some gold and silver bracelets, a long string of pearls, and one jewel-encrusted tiara - all thrown haphazardly over a change of clothes (that included a priest’s robe) and length of rope attached to a grappling hook.

In short, although on the outside he looked the part, Tony was definitely not a simple palace servant. Although, Tony mused in the middle of being chased by approximately half of the palace guard, my life probably would be a lot easier if I were just a servant. Tony took an abrupt left, darting down a narrow hallway, and heard something go crashing behind him as the curses of the guards increased in pitch, causing Tony to grin. Well, it would be easier but certainly nowhere near as fun.

Tony took another left and then a right, running down empty hallways and desperately searching for a window. Or really any opening that would give him access to the outside of the building. It didn’t matter that he was three floors up off of the ground - the rough walls of palace were perfect for scaling and Tony was an excellent climber. It was certainly not how Tony had planned to leave the palace, but all of his carefully laid schemes had crumbled into dust the moment a ladies maid had doubled back to her mistress’s chamber to retrieve something forgotten, only to find Tony picking through said mistress’s jewelry box.

One second of bad luck and days of planning were suddenly worthless. Thankfully, Tony had already gotten most of what he had needed by that point.

Before Tony could stop her, she had cried out, her screams loud enough to summon the palace guard who were quick to begin their pursuit of Tony with shouts of “stop thief!” which almost offended Tony as much as getting caught in the act. Because really, thief was such a… common word for what Tony was. Tony’s heists were always the height of skill and elegance, beautiful in their own right. Practically art. Legendary among people who knew about such things.

Well, usually.

Today’s act of larceny had been rather uncharacteristically hastily planned. Tony had been driven by desperation and necessity, which as any good thief (fine, Tony would concede the title was fitting although he much preferred “property appropriator”) would tell you was never good. Emotions like that made you sloppy and made mistakes more likely. And mistakes, well, mistakes could get you killed or worse - caught.

Tony pretty much never made mistakes. Indeed, before today, he had never even been seen committing one of his heists. Thankfully, Tony always took the precaution of changing his appearance whenever he went on a job - even a last minute one. His face was carefully made up to subtly alter his features and he wore a fake scar slashing across an eyebrow and a cheekbone. A temporary chemical paste had changed his normally brown hair to pitch black. After Tony made his escape (and Tony didn’t doubt for a second he would escape, he was just too good not to), he would be in the clear; the thief that the guards would be looking for would cease to exist the moment Tony had a spare second to remove his disguise.

All Tony needed to do was find a way to get out of this damned palace. Unfortunately, it had been years since Tony had set foot in the palace and he had never been in this particular wing. So, at the moment, he was running without a plan and praying he wouldn’t hit a dead end.

Having outstripped the guards to the extent that Tony could barely hear signs of their pursuit (Tony was lean and quick footed, perfectly designed for quick getaways), Tony stopped for a moment to catch his breath and try to come up with a better plan. But as he leaned against a wall, bent over and panting, something on the opposite side of the hallway caught his eye.

Exhaustion momentarily forgotten, Tony took a step closer, eyes squinting. There, carved into the stone in the middle of a random hallway, was a small flower. It had been colored with red paint and Tony thought it might be a poppy. Why…  His mind caught up in the small mystery, Tony reached out a hand to brush his fingers against the carving and the moment he touched it, the stone it was carved onto sunk into the wall.

Tony’s breath caught, excitement rushing through him. Could it be?

“Please be a secret door, please be a secret door,” Tony murmured as he pushed against the stone harder and suddenly a whole section of the wall was swinging inwards, a door that Tony never would have guessed was there opening.

Tony stared at the door, delighted (Tony loved secrets) and debated what to do. Did the guards know about this room? Could Tony hide here until the furrow died down or would going inside lead to his certain capture? A shout from nearby (some of the guards must be closing in) quickly made up his mind. Darting inside, Tony carefully shut the door behind him, ensuring that it made no noise while closing.

Ear pressed against the door, Tony could faintly hear the sounds in the hallway beyond it. After a minute, Tony heard footfalls and the clanking of armor that signified the palace guard. Tony held his breath. The noises came closer, the guards passing right in front of the secret door, and then, miracle of miracles, they started to lessen and fade. Tony breathed a sigh of relief. The guards had continued down the hallway, not even pausing at the door. For the time being, he was safe.

Straightening up, Tony gave the secret room he had found himself in a proper look and almost fainted from shock.

The room was large and airy, with high ceilings and three large windows set in one wall, allowing sunlight to stream into the room. Otherwise, the room was entirely empty. Well, except for the slab of stone in the center of room upon which a sleeping person lay. And not just any sleeping person, either. No. Of course not. Because there, in a secret room in a forgotten part of the castle lay Prince Steve, heir to the crown, whom no one in the kingdom had seen for three years. Because three years ago the prince had fallen into an enchanted sleep from which nothing and no one had been able to rouse him.

Tony hesitantly walked across the room until he was standing right beside the sort-of table upon which Steve lay. Tony gazed down at him. Steve looked perfect, exactly like a prince was supposed to look. His golden hair was perfectly styled and his handsome face was clean shaven. He was dressed in a royal blue jacket with shiny gold buttons and white breeches that showed off a well-built body that had not deteriorated despite the years Steve had spent asleep. Enchanted sleep, Tony reminded himself. Steve’s hands were folded on top of his breast. He was perfectly still except for the gentle rise and fall of his chest.

Tony stared down at Steve and emotions swirled through him, freezing him in place. Horror, sorrow, curiosity, wonder, and regret warred within him and the one coherent thought he was able to form was, I wish I could see his eyes… blue, they’re so blue.

Tony reached out a shaking hand and gently touched Steve’s hand. It was warm and felt so alive beneath his fingers, but nothing happened. Steve didn’t stir, didn’t twitch, and Tony’s stomach swooped in disappointment. He didn’t know what he had been expecting, but he wanted… he wanted to make this right. Because once, a long time ago, Steve had made something right for Tony. In a small way Steve had saved him. And since that day all those years ago, Tony had carried both a debt to Steve and a yearning to meet him once again. And now, finally, Tony was here with Steve but Steve was completely unaware.

Tony smiled ruefully to himself and gently shook his head. It was foolish to hope. Even if Steve were awake, it wasn’t like he would actually recognize Tony. Steve probably saved small orphan boys all the time; there was no way he would remember the few hours that he and Tony had spent together once upon a time. After all, it had been more than a decade ago and they both had been so so young.

But still, Tony wanted to do something. He couldn’t leave without thanking Steve, even if Steve would never know. Tony would know and maybe partially getting this one debt off his chest would help him sleep a little easier at night.

After a few more moments of silent, internal debate, Tony leaned over Steve and murmured, “Thank you. You’ll never know how much it meant to me.” And then Tony closed his eyes and pressed a gentle kiss to Steve’s cheek. Or well, Tony had meant to kiss Steve’s cheek. Apparently, with his eyes closed has aim was a little off because his kiss landed half on Steve’s cheek and half on the corner of his mouth.

Tony raised his head and opened his eyes to be met with… blue. Tony stared, dumbfounded. Because Steve’s eyes were open. They were open and blinking rapidly and his gaze was confused, but focused on Tony. Then Steve raised a shaky hand and it brushed gently along Tony’s cheek.

“Who are you?” Steve’s voice was low and raspy with disuse and it kicked Tony into action.

Tony stumbled backwards out of Steve’s reach and raised a hand to brush against the cheek where Steve had touched him.

Steve levered himself up, the entire motion seeming to require extreme effort, and spoke again, his blue eyes still trained on Tony. This time, his voice was more assured. “Who are you? And where am I? What happened?”

Tony blinked at him and then rapidly turned, throwing open one of the windows. Out, I have to get out. It was the only coherent thought running through his head. Tony hastily pulled the hook and rope out of his bag, spilling half of its contents - including a good amount of jewelry he had collected earlier - on the floor in the process. Attaching it to the window ledge, he was out of the room and repelling down the side of palace in seconds.

“Wait!” he heard Steve call from behind him, but he kept moving. He couldn’t stay here. If he stayed, there would be questions and where there were questions, there was danger. Danger for Tony and for those he was trying to protect. Moments later, he was on the ground and running as fast as he could, rope forgotten. In a moment of weakness, Tony looked over his shoulder back at the palace. Steve was standing at the window Tony had used as his exit, the sun glinting off of his golden hair and one hand outstretched. Tony tore his gaze away and kept running. It was for the best. 

[thoughtfulcupcakesublime]

Virginia Living magazine has released its “Best of Virginia 2017” list in this month’s issue.

The list highlights the best places to eat and shop as well as the top services and events. This year, 50,000 people voted on 105 categories.

In the northern Virginia region, here are the awardees from Prince William County:

Best Automotive Repair Shop

Steve’s Auto Repair & Tire; StevesAutoRepairVA.com: An official Goodyear dealer, Steve’s Auto Repair offers services, including inspections, tune-ups and engine repairs and replacements. The team is committed to community outreach and has opened the shop to help Cub Scouts build Pinewood Derby cars for their annual race, and donated a bus to a local Boys and Girls Club.

Second place: Shannon Auto Repair; ShannonAutoSales.com

Third place: Olde Towne Auto Repair; OTAR.MechanicNet.com

Best Accounting Firm

Third place: DuvallWheeler, CPAs; DuvallWheeler.com

Best Architecture Firm 

Loveless Porter Architects, LLC; LovelessPorterArchitects.com: The 35-year-old firm’s specialty is commercial design – projects have included schools, office buildings and shopping centers. Loveless provides full service design and construction services, including some interior detail work. For a church building, the team helped select wood for the construction of pews. Loveless also performs residential design.

Best Day Spa

Second place: Tranquility Day Spa & Salon; TranquilityDaySpa.com

Best Dental Practice

Third place: Sporting Smiles Pediatric Dentistry and Family Orthodontics; SportYourSmile.com

Best Event Planning Company

Third place: Creations by Brenda; CreationsByBrenda.com

Best Hair Salon

Second place: Curves Hair Studio; CurvesHair.com

Best Interior Design Firm

Third place: Olamar Interiors, LLC; OlamarInteriors.com

Best Orthodontic Practice

Second place: Dunegan Orthodontics; DrDunegan.com

Best Pediatric Practice

Manassas Pediatrics; ManassasPediatrics.com: Featuring a team of five pediatricians, the practice provides sports physicals, same-day sick visits, asthma care and well visits for babies, kids and adolescents. All of the pediatricians at the 25-year-old practice are on staff at Novant Health Systems’ Prince William and Haymarket medical centers.

Second place: Haymarket Pediatrics; HaymarketPediatrics.com

Best Private Air Service

Chantilly Air; ChantillyAir.com: Chantilly Air customers can charter flights from a fleet of seven aircrafts that includes Learjets and Challengers authorized to conduct flights at Ronald Reagan National Airport. The company’s Jet Card program offers discounts for frequent fliers. The service also provides aircraft management services for private plane owners, including scheduling, crew staffing and maintenance tracking.

Best Real Estate Firm

Third place: DePugh Realty; DepughRealty.com

Best Annual Charity Event

Second place: CASA CIS’ Annual Evening Under the Stars; CASACIS.org

Best Art Event

Third place: Historic Manassas Gallery Walk; ManassasGalleryWalk.com

Best Art Gallery 

Third place: Creative Brush Studio; CreativeBrush.com

Best Museum 

Second place: The Manassas Museum; ManassasMuseum.org

Third place: National Museum of the Marine Corps; USMCMuseum.com

Best Performing Arts Company

Gainesville Dance Center; GainesvilleDanceCenter.com: Take in a performance by Gainesville Dance Center students, and you just might be wintessing the birth of a star. Former students have gone on to compete on Fox’s So You Think You Can Dance?, and perform with the Radio City Rockettes. More than 100 classes between to locations offer tap, ballet, contemporary and jazz.

Second place: Showcase Dance Studio; ShowcaseDanceStudio.net

Third place: Manassas Ballet Theatre; ManassasBallet.org

Best Bed And Breakfast

Second place: Manassas Junction Bed and Breakfast; ManassasJunction.com

Third place: Bennett House Bed & Breakfast; VirginiaBennettHouse.com

Best “Do Not Miss” Tourist Attraction

Second place: Manassas National Battlefield; NPS.gov/Mana

Best Fishing Outfitter

Second place: Cabela’s; Cabelas.com

Best Hunting Outfitter

Gander Mountain; GanderMountain.com: Gander Mountain sells hunting gear for game big and small from brands like Carry-Lite, Bushnell, River’s Edge and Primos. Inventory includes 2-D and 3-D decoys, tree stands, game and trail cameras, apparel by brands like Under Armour and the North Face, and even shampoos and deodorants for those weekend getaways off-the-grid.

Second place: Cabela’s; Cabelas.com

Best Retirement Community

Second place: Tribute at Heritage Village; TributeAtHeritageVillage.com

Best Bar

Second place: Malone’s of Manassas; MalonesOfManassas.com

Third place: Monza; EatMonza.com

Best Barbeque Restaurant

The Bone; TheBoneBBQ.com: The NoVa-based barbecue chain has five locations and a food truck, and its menu of scratch-made sides and sauces, plus meats smoked daily in house, has a real following, The family-owned restaurant once catered a PGA tournament party for golf pros Rickie Fowler, Tiger Woods, Jimmy Walker and Justin Thomas, who called the Manassas location a “go-to BBQ spot!”

Best Breakfast Restaurant 

Ashton Family Restaurant; AshtonFamilyRestaurant.com

Best Farmers’ Market

City of Manassas Farmers’ Market; VisitManassas.org: Operating year-round, 1-3 times each week depending on the season, the market offers fresh, local produce and wares – including meats, cheeses, baked goods, candles, skin creams and handmade clothing – from vendors located not more than 150 miles from the Manassas city center. Last year, more than 56,000 visitors attended the market days.

Best Food Truck

Second place: The Bone; TheBoneBBQ.com

Best Local Gourmet Food Store

Third place: Wegmans Food Markets, Inc.; Wegmans.com

Best Local Ice Cream Shop

Nathan’s Dairy Bar; NathansDairyBar.com: Named for the owner’s son, Nathan’s Dairy Bar has all the charm of an old-fashioned ice cream shoppe, including a walk-up window where you can order soft serve ice cream or sherbert. Special flavors, like salted caramel and chocolate raspberry truffle, change twice weekly , and with the seasons, Its food truck – called Nate Jr. – is available for events.

Third place: Milkberry Yogurt & Bubble Tea; MilkberryYogurt.com

Best Locally Owned Coffee Shop

Third place: Jirani; JiraniCoffeeHouse.coma 

Best Mexican Restaurant

Zandra’s Taqueria; ZandrasTacos.com: Housed in a historic 1920s building, Zandra’s offers a menu of nearly two dozen a la carte tacos. Guests are encouraged to try multiple variations built on soft corn or flour tortillas or with lettuce wraps. The menu includes traditional items like carnitas salsa verde and more inspired options like sesame-crusted Ahi tuna with cabbage and Santa Fe dressing.

Third place: El Tio, Tex-Mex Grill; ElTioGrill.com

Best Outdoor Dining

Second place: Monza; EatMonza.com

Best Pizzeria

Tony’s New York Pizza; TonysNewYorkPizza.com: Naples-born Tony D’Agostino founded Tony’s in 1989 to bring authentic Italian food – such as pasta al forno (or “messy lasagna”), which includes house made meatballs, Italian sausage, beef, ricotta, mozzarella, sauce and ziti – and New York style pizza to Prince William County. Tony’s now has three locations in the region.

Best Place For Brunch

Second place: Malone’s of Manassas; MalonesOfManassas.com

Best Seafood Restaurant

Second place: C.J. Finz; CJFinz.com

Third place: Blue Ridge Seafood; BlueRidgeSeafood.com

Best Creative Cocktail Menu

Third place: Malone’s of Manassas; MalonesOfManassas.com

Best Book Store

Richard McKay Used Books; McKayUsedBooks.com: Richard McKay has been buying, selling and trading used books – including children’s, fiction and non-fiction, graphic novels, textbooks and comic books – since 1983. Over the years, the shop has added vinyl records, CDs, DVDs and games (both board and video) to its inventory, and features a local authors table.

Best Bridal Boutique

Amy’s Bridal Boutique; AmysBridalBoutique.com: Founded in 2008, the boutique moved to its current location in historic Manassas two years ago. It offers gowns from designers, including Stella York and Justin Alexander, and outfits bridesmaids and groomsmen as well. Retro Fans can pick up 1950s-inspired dresses and accessories from the brands Pimp Girl Clothing and Lindy Bop.

Second place: Jeanette’s Bride N’ Boutique; JeanettesBride.com

Best Car Dealer 

Shannon Auto Sales; ShannonAutoSales.com: Shannon Auto Sales specializes in pre-owned vehicles from makers like Audi, BMW, Fiat and Hummer. The dealership provides everything you need for your new wheels right on site: along with in-house financing, it also has repairs, including tire balancing, brake service and repair and safety inspections.

Best Fine Jewelry

Third place: Ashby Jewelers; AshbyJewelers.com

Best Florist

Second place: Flower Gallery of Virginia; FlowerGalleryManassas.com

Best Gift Shop

Shining Sol Candle Company; ShiningSol.com: While on the road touring with Brett Michaels, Pete Evick purchased a candle – and was thoroughly unimpressed. So the rock- and roller embarked on a new career path: Making candles of his own. Five years later, the brand, which hand makes hand pours every candle on site, offers some unusual scents, including officially-licensed candles for Def Leppard (“Pour Some Sugar On Me”) and Aerosmith (“Permanent Vacation”).

Second place: The Things I love; TheThingsILoveManassas.com

Best Independent Home Decor Store:

Second place: The Things I love; TheThingsILoveManassas.com

Best Motorcycle/Scooter Dealer

Second place: Whitt’s Harley-Davidson; WhittsHD.com

Best Women’s Clothing Store

Second place: Allyssa Bryn; AllyssaBryn.com

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