#to turn on a torch and see all the colours that disappear when you swim deep in the sea

[cj-kenobi]

I miss my wife (the ocean)

[tsarisfanfiction]

WIP #59b

(Send me a number 1-60 [or a fandom/character I guess] for the corresponding wip) because I’m bored and brain-fried and have too many wips that’ll otherwise never see the light of day.

@purfectpurple asked for more of this one!  Which, tbh, I get the feeling a few of you wanted, judging by your reactions to it.

So, we’ve had our nasty accident and a nice healthy dose of emotional and physical whump for Scott.  Let’s see what the rest of the brothers are up to, shall we?

(If it wasn’t obvious by now, I’ve had so much fun writing this one.  It’s definitely getting revisited once I have the time.  And no, this still isn’t everything I have written for this wip because it’s a pretty long one... considering it was supposed to be a oneshot)

Gordon was last to the scene, summoned by Alan’s shouts and John’s too-loud voice transmitting from every speaker in the den, and arrived just in time to see Scott disappearing from the room with hunched shoulders.  In front of him was carnage: Alan wriggled in Virgil’s grip, determined to escape the thickset Tracy even though Virgil showed no indication of releasing him, and John was hovering with crossed arms above them, eyebrows furrowed in an expression of worry more usually seen on Virgil.

He didn’t need any explanations.  Late to the party he might have been, but he had ears and he was fairly sure Alan’s explosion could have been heard in Australia.

“Let.  Me.  Go. Virgil!” Alan ground out, but the bear of the family simply held tighter and made his way over to the nearest sofa, writhing brother in his grip.

“What’s got into you?” their elder brother demanded.

“Nothing!” Alan snapped.

“Nothing doesn’t lend itself to you telling our eldest brother you wish he was the one presumed dead,” John cut in coolly.  Gordon startled, not expecting their space-bound brother to be quite so harsh towards Alan.  The two astronauts tended to band together, and a division in those ranks meant things were serious.

“I never said that!” Alan argued back, giving up on trying to escape Virgil’s death grip and assuming a pose that could only be described as sulky.

“Maybe not in so many words,” John conceded.  “But that’s what I heard and, more importantly, that’s what Scott heard.”

“He’s just being so annoying,” Alan defended himself, as though there was really any defence for saying that to anyone, and Gordon knew once he calmed down he’d be regretting it. “Alan don’t do this.  Alan, don’t do that.  Alan, you’re too young,” he mimicked, kicking his legs out. Virgil took the hits without commenting.

“He’s trying to protect you,” he said instead.  “He does it to all of us, you know that.”

“I know,” Alan grumbled.  “But it’s too much!  How are we supposed to save people if we’re being smothered into being safe all the time? He’s going too far!”

“He was there,” John cut in quietly, reclaiming all of their attention.  “You might not know – you were all away at the time – but Scott was with Dad on that mission.”

Something heavy and unpleasant lodged itself at the bottom of Gordon’s stomach, and from the sudden look of horror on Alan’s face, he wasn’t the only one.  Virgil looked sad, like he’d already suspected it.

“Scott was there?” Alan’s voice came out strangled. “Then… how…?”

“It was supposed to be his mission,” John continued, and Gordon felt sick at the idea that it might have been Scott lost back then, or worse, both Dad and Scott.  “Dad changed his mind at the last minute and told him to hang back.”

“‘I couldn’t save Dad’,” Virgil murmured, and Gordon’s attention snapped to him.  He wasn’t restraining Alan anymore, instead holding him in a hug that wasn’t being protested.  “He said that to me, once.”

“I didn’t mean it.” Alan sounded small, even younger than his fifteen years.  In Virgil’s hold he looked it, too.  “I was just frustrated… he knows that, right?  Scott knows I don’t actually wish we’d lost him?”

“I’m sure he does,” John said, sounding more like his usual self and taking Alan’s side once again. “But you should still apologise when he gets back.”

“Where has he gone, anyway?” Gordon wondered out loud, and John checked something out of their sight before frowning.

“His comm signal is by the pool,” he said.

“But sitting still isn’t Scott’s thing,” Virgil pointed out, and John nodded in agreement, lips pressed together thinly.

Gordon took it upon himself to head out onto the balcony and sneak towards the edge, only to find what they already suspected.  “He’s not there.”

“Maybe he dropped it?” Alan sounded hopeful, but Gordon knew he didn’t believe his own words – their communicators were designed to stay with them no matter what.  The only way it would come off of Scott’s wrist would be if he took it off on purpose.

He couldn’t imagine what Scott could be feeling to intentionally cut himself off from the rest of them.

“He’ll be back in his own time,” Virgil said, heaving a sigh and finally letting go of Alan.  The youngest sprang to his feet and ran straight down the stairs; Gordon watched from the balcony as he rooted around beside the pool for a moment before bending and picking up something blue.  It didn’t take a genius to know what it was.

If he’d gone for a run, they were probably looking at an hour before he came back.  Resigned to an awkward wait, Gordon followed his younger brother down the stairs and flopped onto the nearest lounger.  The pool gleamed invitingly at him in the early afternoon sun, but his swimming gear was in his room and he couldn’t muster the motivation to leave the poolside.

Alan stood at the edge of the paved section, staring out down the path around the island, Scott’s communicator clutched in his hands.

Together, they waited.

And waited.

And waited.

“He hasn’t come back.” Alan’s voice was quiet and trembling as it broached the silence.  Above them the sky was changing into greys and oranges as dusk loomed.  “Why isn’t he back?”

Gordon tapped his own communicator.

“John?  Any sign of him?”

“He isn’t back yet?” the ginger asked, popping into holographic existence immediately.  “It’s been four hours.”  His fingers flew over an invisible keyboard, and Gordon watched his face get more and more frustrated.  “Scanners can’t tell him apart from the other wildlife,” he finally admitted.  “But there aren’t any lifesigns on his usual trail.”

“Well we know he hasn’t left the island,” Virgil said from behind them, a second holographic John hovering over his wrist.  “None of the jets are unaccounted for.”

“We have to find him!” Alan sounded close to tears. “It’ll be dark soon!”

Earlier, Gordon – like Virgil and John – had been of the opinion that Scott should be left alone to chew through the argument in peace.  Now, he agreed with Alan.

Four hours was too long and his squid sense was prickling uncomfortably.

“Alan, you’re with me,” Virgil said.  “We’ll check the main trail first and try to find which route he took.  Get your boots.”

Boots.

What had Scott been wearing? Gordon couldn’t remember.

“I’ll take the trail the other way,” he said.  “Meet you halfway.”  Virgil nodded and they scattered to change.

“Don’t forget a torch,” John said from his wrist.  “You have just over an hour until sunset.”  Gordon threw one into the bag he was hastily packing, alongside a first aid kit – hopefully not required, but better to have it and not need it than need it and not have it – and a grapple with several packs.

He didn’t reconvene with Alan and Virgil, simply striking out as soon as he was ready with a quick message across the comms to let them know.  Scott’s favourite trail was easy to follow, well pounded into the earth by years of running, but Gordon knew he wouldn’t find him on there.  If he’d ditched his comm, he didn’t want to be found, and John’s minimal information confirmed that the trail was still devoid of life.

Scott would have taken one of the other, tougher, trails.  The problem was that Scott was the only one who knew all of them.  Alan knew the rock climbing trails, Virgil knew the ones that led to good viewpoints, and Gordon knew the ones nearest the ocean.  To find him, they’d need to use all the old fashioned tracking knowledge they had, drilled into them by Dad and Grandma with the threats that technology wouldn’t always help them.

With Scott’s comm still firmly in Alan’s possession and too many lifesigns on the island to differentiate which one was their brother, technology was decidedly useless.

Gordon almost missed it – unevenly spaced footprints snaking away from the main track and up over a steep incline.  He called it in, but Alan and Virgil were almost at the other side of the island already. By the time they reached him, the encroaching dusk would make the trail too hard to spot.  He made the executive decision to proceed alone.

It was slow going, the path tough and often fading into little more than craggy outcrops the closer he got to the summit of the volcano.  Scott did these for fun?  He always knew his eldest brother was crazy.  Said crazy brother was currently missing, though, and Gordon couldn’t bring himself to poke fun at him when he’d been gone for too long.

A gash yawned in front of him – a jagged line cutting diagonally through the rocks – and Gordon eyed it carefully as he started to manoeuvre his way around it gingerly, only to stop as he caught sight of something that didn’t look like it belonged there.

Darkness was looming, encroaching on his visibility too much for him to confidently identify it with the naked eye, so he dug through his pack for the torch John had told him to bring. He almost wished he hadn’t when the something turned out to be a scrap of light blue fabric caught a little way down the crumbling edge of the rockface.

He knew that colour, just as he knew what the dark smear accompanying it was.

“John,” he called, and his brother appeared instantly.  “Any of those life signs directly below me?”

Please say no, he begged silently as he stared into the darkness.

“There’s one,” John said after a moment.  “About fifty feet below you.  It’s not moving.”

There probably wasn’t a worse thing to hear right then.  The first aid kid in his bag suddenly felt heavy, and he reached for his grapple.

“I’m checking it out,” he said, pleasantly surprised that he sounded in control still.

“What have you found?” Virgil cut in – of course John had linked them all together.  Gordon didn’t answer as he shot the line and, praying it would hold and that the rocks wouldn’t give way like they clearly had earlier, swung down over the edge.

It narrowed quickly, the chasm turning into a slit barely big enough for Gordon to get through. Virgil would never have fit, and Gordon wouldn’t have expected Scott to except the smear of blood dragged all the way down through it, more snatches of blue shirt snagged on outcrops at random intervals.

He had to push the pack through first so he could get through, and counted the seconds until he heard it thud against something.  Only two – not too bad of a drop.  If you had a grapple line.

He touched down easily, sweeping the torch across the volcanic cavern to first locate his pack, and then the source of the life sign.

It didn’t take long for a shadow to look wrong, and he hurried over, heart in his mouth.

The good news was that it was Scott.

The bad news was that Scott didn’t look good, at all.

“John, see if you can find another way into this cave,” he said.  “Virgil, if he can’t, make one.”  His torch caught the unnatural angle of Scott’s leg and he bit back a curse. “And bring a stretcher.”

WIP #59c>>>

[lovestrucked-again]

Sanguine II Mafia

Genre: Mafia AU Warnings: dark themes, blood, guns, creepy evil guy. Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: You’re a second year med student taken in by the house of NCT. It’s not uncommon to be the last to learn things within the house but when your safety is threatened, you’re forced to leave home with no option. But it only makes things worse.

Part 1 || next ****

You don’t even take a second to think things through. Your rationality and sensibility gone out the door when the man mentioned Taeyong being unconscious. You could only puzzle all the things together. For Taeyong to be unconscious would mean the other guys were also in danger.

You clutched onto your phone, debating whether you should wake Lucas up or not but the warning to come alone rings in the back of your mind. You creak open the door and switch on your phone light, using it as a torch as you quickly slip on a proper shirt and pants. The keys for the car are on the nightstand beside Lucas. You tiptoe over, desperately trying to keep quiet while he sleeps completely oblivious. The idea to leave a note crosses your mind, by the time he wakes up you would be long gone, and who knows maybe this will be my last time seeing him.

But the vibration of your phone and the notification popup your screen shows brings you out of the thought.

Unknown number: I’m waiting.

The text leaves you sprinting out the room.

The drive home is completely silent apart from the swimming thoughts surrounding your mind. The freeway seems to be completely deserted, letting you speed down the straight road whenever possible. You don't realise how long has passed with your hands gripped on the steering wheel until the sudden ring on your phone causes you to jump.

You glance over at the Bluetooth mini screen displaying the caller ID, Lucas. The corner of the screen shows the time, 6:03am. The ring continues for over a minute and then disappears. The second ring coming through doesn't surprise you as he tries again. The thought to turn off your phone isn’t possible as the unknown number may call, so you reach for your phone and disconnect it from the Bluetooth of the car, switching it to vibration mode.

The guilt inside you begins gnawing in your stomach as you drive and your phone continues vibrating on the passenger seat beside you. As desperate as you were to answer, you didn't want to risk it, and besides, Lucas would be safer if he wasn't bought in.

Everything looks normal on the outside. None of the windows are smashed, the house seems to be stable, nothing looks like its collapsing. The house seems visibly fine but it's the dozens of unrecognisable cars along your street that's concerning. There’s at least 10 vehicles; vans and cars included.

Deciding it’s better to stay hidden for as long as possible, you take the back route, driving through a dirt road hidden by a KEEP OUT sign. You park a bit further back from the house to ensure the sound of the engine isn’t heard.

You sneak in through the back door, heading for the top floor of the house to check out the situation. The commotion in the living room indicating to you where everyone is. As you tip toe up the stairs, a loud roaring laughter comes from the floor below. You decide to take a peek, getting on your knees and crawling to the edge of the railings which overlook the living room.

The amount of people crowding in the living room makes it seem tiny. But you can easily pick out your members from the 20 or so individuals.

The first person you notice is Taeyong who seems to be barely conscious, his arms roped behind his back as he’s tied against a wooden chair, a man with a gun standing beside him. The rest of the boys stand behind with what looks like a gag preventing them from speaking, their hands tied by rope, faces bloody and bruised, a gun also resting at their heads. Your eyes can only glimpse at them, not baring to lay your eyes on anyone for too long.

It's a slight breath of relief knowing not all of them are here. You can only see a few of the guys which would mean the others were safe, at least that's what you hoped.

Jaehyun was standing in a pool of blood, the red seeping through part of his shirt on his right shoulder indicating a heavy wound. Beside him, was Yuta and Jeno. The swift glance over them letting you know none of them seemed visibly injured, apart from the stained clothing. The last person you noticed brought a gasp out of your mouth. Winwin was leaning against the couch for support, his hands left untied as he presses onto a bleeding patch on his lower abdomen.

Tears instantly form at the side of your eyes as you scramble back from the sight, making sure you’re unable to be seen before you start shaking, the fear now kicking in. Breathe, don't panic.

You crawl back forward, you had to see how many enemies there were. You had to think of something quickly, but the image of the scene below continues to invade your mind. There’s no time.

As your about to stand, making your presence known, a hand tugs you back down. The other hand of the person instantly whipping around your mouth to prevent the squeal that comes out.

“It’s me, Mark.” A whispered voice says into your ear. He feels you relax against his body before letting go and you turn to face him. He looks stressed, His eyes are red, the veins popping out while his shirt’s covered in colours of blood and dirt. “What are you doing here?” Mark asks, tugging you to the back of the wall.

The men from downstairs continue talking, deep rumbles of laughter invading your ears.

“I-I got a call.” You’re so relieved to see Mark. Even in this situation, seeing him and knowing he wasn't hurt was reassuring, “What happened?”

“I can’t explain this now; you have to leave.”

“Where’s the others? A-are they okay?” You ask, desperate to know.

“They’re fine.” He tells you, “Y/N listen to me.” He grips onto your shoulders, turning you to face him properly, “Johnny and Haechan are outside near your car. You need to leave okay.”

“I can’t just leave!”

“We’ll take care of things here.”

“That guy called me here.” You tell him, “He’ll let them go if I talk to him.”

“That bastard.” He mutters underneath his breath.

You know there’s no chance things can end nicely in this situation and you weren’t prepared to let anyone die today. But knowing the boys for so long, there was no way they would bring you into this. You can hear Mark as he turns around to whisper to the wall, presumably informing Johnny and Haechan about the situation through the ear pierce.

This would be your only chance to go down there alone. You prayed Mark wouldn't be stupid enough to follow you. It would be pointless for him to reveal himself alone. While he continued mumbling into the earpiece, you took a deep breath, preparing yourself. Now or never right?

And then you stood up properly, and walked down the stairs.

“Y/N!” Mark lets out a hissed whisper in surprise, attempting to grab onto your wrist but fails.

The noises stop from downstairs as a larger built man sitting directly in front of Taeyong stands up. His eyes now trained on you. You recognised him by his face.

You’d walked into the meeting room one time and they’d forgotten to hide the photos sprawled out on the table. You picked up the photos along with the file on the table out of curiosity. The file contained more images, graphic ones. There was a photo of a boy, perhaps 4 or 5 years of age, lying in a pool of blood in an empty room. The words NCT stained onto the wall behind the child.

At the time all you could remember was crying. You had bawled you’re eyes out, terrified of the people you were surrounded by. The file slipped out of your hands and all the contents flowed out. You remember gathering everything in a scurry, wiping away the tears with the back of your hand simultaneously. All the images were of different angles in that room. Except one.

There was a photo taken of an older guy. He looked like he was in his mid-teens in the image but his facial features were very distinct, including the scar under his left eye which ran across half his face.

The guy staring at you, was him. Your mind went around in a frenzy, trying to piece together the possibilities of what he wanted with you. Why is he here?

“Well, hello there.” The guy greets, beaming a crooked smile from his position. Taeyong instantly whips his head around to follow his gaze. His eyes widen immediately, his mind gone completely blank seeing you here.

You stopped moving at the bottom step. Scared to get any closer to the man who was now slowly approaching you. You looked past him, meeting Taeyong’s eyes. For the first time since you met him, since he bought you into this family, he looked terrified. He was covered in blood and his face losing the usual bright colour in his complexion. Taeyong was the only one without a gag, but he was weak right now and it was obvious he would be with the bath of blood underneath his chair. He was barely conscious.

The others only stared at you, Jaehyun, Yuta and Jeno who were too shocked to move. Winwin who was barely conscious.

“Run Y/N.” Taeyong whispers out, his voice inaudible to where you are. The guy approaching you whips his head around to Taeyong, letting a little grin wash on his face before nodding to his men standing silently on the side.

You watch in horror as the guys gather around the members, kicking them from behind the knees causing them to collapse. The members can only growl as they struggle with the binds behind their backs and the fabric preventing them from talking. As one of the unfamiliar guy’s approach Winwin you realise he had fallen into an unconscious state.

“Don’t!!” You scream out, just as the guy’s foot swings into the air. The guy stops, everyone’s eyes now trained on you.

The leader chuckles, as the man in front of Winwin looks over at his boss, and then looks at you. The leader gives a little nod and the man steps back, leaving Winwin on the floor. Your heart drops and you can feel the air seep out of you.

“It’s nice to finally meet you Y/N,” the guy says, now just a metre away, “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Can’t say I feel the same.” You mutter out, taking a step back up the stairs, to distant yourself.

The guy in front you laughs, taking another step closer. “I just want to talk.”

“Let them go and I’ll talk” You offer, watching his expression carefully.

He lets out a hum and you think for a second, he’s considering your deal, but the snicker following seconds later lets you know his answer. “How about we have a talk outside? Where there isn’t such a big audience?” He purrs, closing the gap between the two of you as he brushes away the fallen strands of your hair. You turn to face the side, not wanting to look into his intimidating gaze. But he brings a finger to your lips, forcing you to look up at him as he speaks, “Just the two of us.”

“Fuck off.” You spit out, your saliva hitting him in the face. He steps back in surprise, eyes shut as he chuckles to himself. His men in the room stand silently, shocked at your behaviour towards their leader.

“What a pretty bitch.” He laughs, wiping his face roughly. You step back too late, as he leans forward grabbing your jaw harshly.

“L-let her go or I’ll kill you.” Taeyong growls out, his voice still weak. Your hands are gripping at the guy’s wrist on your jaw, trying to fight your way free.  

“You can try.” The man claims, turning around to face Taeyong.

“It wasn’t us.” Taeyong mutters out, his eyes closing shut as he tries to fight the pain from his gunshot wound.

“Really?” The guy asks, sarcasm dripping from his voice. He lets go of your jaw, stomping back towards Taeyong. “No one else knew about him except you Taeyong.” He spits out, jabbing a finger at Taeyong’s chest as he speaks. You watched as the guy visibly stats to shake, using more and more pressure as he jabs into the wound, “Only you knew him!”

For some reason, it seemed there was a deeper story between the two leaders, one which you had never learnt.

Mark who was still upstairs had called Johnny and Haechan in who were already at the back of the house for backup when you had gone downstairs. However, the three of them, now crouched at the railings, could only watch. Mark had called the members who were in the safe house, deciding they needed everyone to come to try even out the numbers at the very least before fighting back.

With just the three of them, there was no way they could win against the 15+ men downstairs. So all they could do was watch and wait, praying the members could hold on until then.

As the leader falls back onto his chair, exhausted at his outburst, you sneak a peek at the members’ injuries, finally being able to see the extent of damage from a much closer view.

Jaehyun seemed to be hiding his pain but the soft patter of blood droplets adding to the pool he was standing in needed to be attended to. Winwin was also losing too much blood and his unconscious state was making you panic. He needed help quickly, before it was too late. And there was also Taeyong’s physical state which was driving you insane.  

It’ll be too late to save them if they stay like this for any longer.

“I’ll go with you.” You tell him, breaking the conversation between the leader and one of his men. You walk over to him, ignoring the blood splatters on the floor and the eyes of the members burning into you. “But we leave now. All your men in this house, outside the house, the ones watching us from afar. Everyone.”

He stands up, brushing off his pants and walks to stand in front of where you stopped.

“You’re a brave girl Y/N.” He leans in, tilting his head to the side so his lips are right at your ear, “But you don’t get a say in this situation baby, you’ll be coming with me anyway.” He moves back to watch your face fall, searching your eyes for the horror expressions he feed off.

But you’re not scared, not shaking, not doing anything that he was expecting.

“Please.” You beg him desperately, throwing away all the confidence you had before. He watches you, amused at the sudden change of attitude, but it's a nice thing for him. So he accepts your offer. His plan had only been altered slightly so there was nothing bad in it for him.

Originally he had told one of his men to be ready to knock you out and take you, leaving the members of NCT to watch as you were taken from them. But you just made his life easier by willingly going.  

“Let’s go.” He commands, waving his hand at his guys to retreat.  “We’ll listen to the princess’s demands.” He snatches hold of your wrist, dragging your feet to follow after him as he heads towards the front door. “After all, it’ll be more fun like this.” He laughs, directing his words to Taeyong.

The man guarding the door opens it, letting the leader step through as you trail behind, your eyes glued to the people in the living room.

You take a last look at everyone. The pleading eyes everyone was staring at you with. You knew Taeyong would probably go crazy mad for a few days. But you had faith. Faith that they would be okay now and faith that there would be a way for you to return home. ____

A/N: i really should edit this and I will edit this tomorrow but for now GOODNIGHT. <3

[merinnan]

DMBJ Explore with the Note Ep 4

Explore with the Note Ep 4 watch thread! 

 Since Ep 3 had no updates to any of the counts, we start ep 4 off with the following:

Season 2 Xiaoge Rescue Count: 2 for Wu Xie, 2 for protagonists, 3 for everyone

Season 2 Wu Xie Swoon Count: 0 Season 2 Evil Hair Count: 2 

Cumulative Xiaoge Rescue Count: 12 for Wu Xie, 17 for protagonists, 18 for everyone 

Cumulative Wu Xie Swoon Count: 6 

- Now that I have some idea of the colour schemes, I can identify which opening credits shots are from flashback scenes and which are from Wu Xie era scenes 

- Ah yes, the snek fishies. A clue to consider, then forget about while we look at other things.

- Aww, he's so happy to see the baby corpse vase 

- And the paintings are far more interesting than whatever might be inside the vase. Although he's moving it around far too easily for the baby corpse to still be in there, I think

- Poor confused Wu Xie. I don't blame him. The stuff in this tomb and its design apparently places it in two different time periods which are like 1000 years apart 

- Oooh, bubbles 

- Good move on the jumping back, turning off your torch, and getting a knife ready

- Although there appears to now be light coming from the water itself 

- Hahah, it's Pangzi and Xiaoge 

- Oh, nice, this time they're not subbing Men Youping as Pokerface.

- And of course Xiaoge is the first one he asks if he's alright, and goes to help out of the water XD 

- lol, even Pangzi calling him out on that 

- Aww, he's so worried about the mark on Xiaoge's arm

- "What happened?!" 

"Oh nothing, just a demon" 

"..." 

- Ah, Pangzi knows what that is 

- ...and ofc Wu Xie only knows what it is from classic poetry texts 

 - *googles ptomaine gas* 

- Ugh, yeah, you don't want to be breathing that. Sounds unpleasant

- Wu Xie is so over everything rn 

- Except Xiaoge, anyway

- I really like S2 Pangzi. He's got the right blend of competence and humour. Comic relief without being just a caricature like S1 Pangzi 

- And Wu Xie showing off his smarts, which is cute. It's moments like these that reminds me he's got an architecture degree

- I think this is the first time we've heard Wang Zanghai's name in the dramas so far 

- And Xiaoge seems to certainly know the name and not be happy about it

- Oh, this looks like a Xiaoge flashback? 

- More fucking swimming, of course 

- But without a diving suit this time - And that's all it was. So interesting. So groundbreaking. I've never seen anyone swimming through dark murky water in this show before

- This Wu Xie is a much more expressive Wu Xie than S1. So many smiles! 

- And such a brilliant little shit 

- I'm really liking the Wu Xie/Pangzi interactions so far. Well, all of them, but these moments are so good. They're reminding me of the Chongqi interactions

- Oh, more bubbles, I'm sure this will be FINE 

- Oh, it's just the water draining out

- Pangzi complaining he can't see because of the fog, but really, I'd think the darkness would be the bigger problem. 

 - They've only got a couple of torches, and this is a large room and even larger pit that that staircase is going down into

- Wu Xie, what did you expect, asking if he can read something from such a distance? 

- And then looking at Xiaoge to see if it's going to be okay to do this 

- These steps & the twig-things on them are remarkably dry for having been submerged in water only a couple of minutes ago

- OK, now that I'm not distracted by speaking or, like, plot (or pingxie), the bgm is actually drawing my attention and dear god, yes, it really is awful and annoying 

- Hahah, dunking on both Sanshu's and Pangzi's English skills in one go

- This Wu Xie is a lovely chaos gremlin 

- Who hasn't completely lost all sense of caution yet, it seems 

- I mean, Pangzi, I'm not sure you'd be saying those things if you heard the kinds of stories Sanshu was telling bby!Wu Xie in those flashbacks 

- Then again, you probably would

- "Besides, I can't leave Xiaoge" ❤️

 - So Xiaoge probably left those marks 

- This look on Pangzi's face as Wu Xie just throws away all the caution he'd been arguing with Pangzi with to go chasing after Xiaoge XD

- I have to say, S1 was far superior in terms of set lighting. Most of the time it's so hard to make out anything. Like, I know they're meant to be in a tomb, but would it have killed them to add more set lighting so we could actually see what's going on more consistently?

- I do love this Xiaoge's unimpressed looks. 

- Oh, it's the mirror 

- Again, everything down here is so remarkably dry 

 - Dry enough to have got dusty in mere minutes!

- Intense Xiaoge Stares! All the stares, all the time, all at Wu Xie

- Ooh, old diving equipment. Well spotted. 

- That airtank being crushed like that does not seem to be a good sign 

- I'm with Pangzi. What sounds? The bgm was drowning out everything except speech

- Hahahah. Pangzi all like, no, we don't need to go up, it's not that dangerous, you're just scaring yourself. Then one mention of the Drought Demon and he's like y'know, on second thoughts.... 

- Xiaoge does like his disappearing tricks 

- And reappearing ones

- This is a good shot for a vague creepiness factor

- Baby is so worried

- Oooh, time for dramatic music while we look at dramatic skyscapes and seascapes 

- Wait, is all that water running backward? 

- I have no idea how that is meant to symbolise remembering things, but apparently it does 

- And now, a Xiaoge flashback

- The vases in the tomb 20 years ago were amazingly clean. Somehow they went somewhere between 500-1500 years staying as clean as if new, then in 20 years they got covered in waterscum.

- I am impressed at the seals on their equipment, if dude was able to bring a sketchpad along on a dive and have it be perfectly dry when he took it out to draw on. 

- And all those notebooks, too 

- The flashbacks get MUCH better set lighting

- Boys, boys, don't fight over the priceless antique porcelain like that. You're gonna drop it and break it. 

- Hahah, Xiaoge's trying so hard to ignore this girl 

- Even when she does give him something interesting to look at

- Well, that explains why all the vases were over there and in that order 20 years later for Wu Xie to find

- This kind of chatter is exactly the kind of chatter I'd expect on an excursion to look at things, or a group project. A little bit is relevant, most is just random chatter, and some might actually eventually mean something once they talk it out. It's great

- Oh, if only you knew, Wenjin. If only you knew 

- Hahah, Wenjin yelling at everyone and telling them to stay put, while Xiaoge just calmly ignores her while he puts his backpack on and walks off 

- lol, and then he just staaaaares at her until she lets him go

- Ah, she knows Sanshu so well 

- She's trying to be the grownup here 

- Poor Wenjin. She really can't win either was when she was stuck on an expedition with both Sanshu and Xiaoge

- Apparently these guys all managed to make it through the hallway without any of them triggering the traps 

- Well done, kiddos 

- Poor Wenjin playing babysitter to all these kids, though

- At least 20 years ago the stonework stayed wet after the water receding instead of mysteriously drying off 

- Well. Most of it, anyway 

- The floor, at least 

- I mean, like, kids. You didn't have to follow him. He didn't ask you to. 

- You just decided to

- Well, they were right, Sanshu was there 

- Just not the one they thought he was 

- Oh, that's a door there 

- I love the way Wu Xie and Pangzi in this tend to shine their flashlights in each other's faces to indicate "I think you're full of shit"

- Oh, clever Wenjin, the first one to figure it out 

- So much staring at each other

- Season 2 Evil Hair Count: 3 

- Though so far it's just sneaking down to tickle Wenjin's neck 

- And they go from perfectly dry corridor to wet-floored room 

- For no discernable reason

- And we end the episode mid-flashback, with them gushing over how pretty the Heavenly Palace is 

- And it really is quite pretty 

- No updates to either the Rescue Count or the Swoon Count, and only the single last-minute update to the Evil Hair Count

So, we end with:

Season 2 Xiaoge Rescue Count: 2 for Wu Xie, 2 for protagonists, 3 for everyone

Season 2 Wu Xie Swoon Count: 0

Season 2 Evil Hair Count: 3

Cumulative Xiaoge Rescue Count: 12 for Wu Xie, 17 for protagonists, 18 for everyone

Cumulative Wu Xie Swoon Count: 6

[serahsanguine]

Vacation Series Pt. 1 - Let The Games Commence. Ch, 5

This is the first book in a two-part series. This book is a six-part story which will be upload daily for the next week. After that, it will be Book two following the same pattern. it was originally made for the Summer Fanfic Exchange.

Tumblr - pt. 1, pt. 2, pt. 3, pt. 4 All chapters can be found Here on Ao3

This Chapter Rating; NC-17 NSFW

Tagging; @skullsmuldon @today-in-fic @baronessblixen @peacenik0

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

          Chapter 5: Day Four - The Admission

Scully woke up to the feeling of a man’s arm around her stomach, and a hand creating small circles on the underside of her breast. The smell of sex and masculine cologne invaded her nose. She could feel the swell of a man’s erection placed against her back, and a soft snore light touching her neck and hair. She smiled inwardly as the memories of the previous night affairs came back to her, of how she and Mulder had finally crossed the line. It was something beautiful and magical. 

As he laid there asleep next to her, she rolled over and studied his face: his frown line flat as his sleep was peaceful, and his eyes were fluttering as his dreams run their course; his nose, long and pointy but ever so beautiful matching his face; his pouty lips around and succulent breathing moisture on her face.

She kissed his forehead, then each cheek and his nose before placing her lips on his, gently barely touching them. But it was enough to arouse him from his slumber.

“Hey Beautiful,” he sounded sleep ridden but happy.

“Good morning,” she said as she carried on, working her lips away from his face to his clavicle and down his deeply tanned chest. Instead of his usual paleness, it was a golden bronze. She kept trailing her kissed down to his stomach stopping just above the v of his legs, placing small kisses of both hips. She was so gentle and he looked like he was loving it.

Her tongue darted out to taste his tip: she barely touched it and it twitched under her tongue. Next, he felt her blow cold air, it sent shattering goosebumps across his skin. This time his whole body twitched. He next felt her tongue so smooth and delicate as she ran it on the underside of his cock. She was teasing him, dragging it out, she knew what she was doing. She lent over, her hair sprayed like a fan across his stomach. Tickling him but only enhancing the sensation. However, he still wanted to see her face, so he pushed it back. Her chiselled to perfection cheeks hollowed and her blue eyes darkened with lust and desire. Her full crimson and ever so soft moist lips opened up and engulfed his entire length. He felt his cock hit the back of her throat. Then he felt her trace his veins with her tongue. His undoing was when she slowly lifted her head, her teeth lightly scraping his length. God, she is beautiful. He felt the pressure building and his climax was coming close to exploding. He tried so hard to hold it back and enjoy the sensation. But she was just too good and control of what she was doing. He tried to tell her, but couldn’t form the words: he was just lost in her mouth. He felt his toes starting to curl, his body went rigid and the pressure erupted from him. His essence flowing from him into her mouth. She lapped him up, drinking him empty, before letting him go. 

“We should really get up,” she said

“I think I have already done that,” he replied in a mocking tone. 

Scully lightly swatted him on his arm, wrapping a blanket around her before walking through to the bathroom. He soon heard the water running so he decided to join her. It was another hour before they had breakfast.

They were both dressed and sitting at the table; the sun was steady through the windows and there was no evidence of the storm from yesterday. They both thought a simple breakfast would be enough so they had blueberry pancakes and maple syrup. Mulder finished his last bite and stared at her, just like he had yesterday but this time he could touch and taste her.  

Scully was licking her fingers clean when suddenly she grabbed Mulder’s wrist pulling his fingers to her lips. She placed a small kiss there and then his index finger went into the depths of her mouth. The sensation of his finger in her mouth was quite an erotic feeling. Her mouth felt warm, her tongue felt rough, warm and bumpy, soft and slick. She swished her tongue around his finger, devouring it before releasing it with a pop. She did this with each finger including his thumb. It seemed like she didn’t even care that some of his fingers didn't even taste of food. 

“Enjoy that, did we?” he said when she let go of his hand.

“Very.”

“We really should stop by the boys and apologize for leaving so abruptly.”

“Yes, we should. I would just like to point out it was not my idea to play strip poker.”

“No, my dear Scully, it wasn’t. But you did suggest poker.”

She made a small huff noise. He was right but damned if she was going to admit that to him. 

They cleaned their plates, dried them and put them back in their places. They walked over to the main house. Byers and Frohike looked like they were having an intense game of chess. And Langly was proofreading the latest issue of The Lone Gunmen newspaper.

Mulder sat down on the sofa and Scully sat on the chair. Langly sat up, putting his paper down next to him. 

“Who’s winning?” Mulder asked Langly

“It’s the first game, and they play best two out of three. So, who knows...”

Then suddenly Frohike spoke.

“Someone broke the upstairs sink yesterday, I wonder what happened?”

Scully turned red so quickly. She looked down, keeping her eyes off everyone and staring at a dot on the floor. They all spent five minutes without talking, all they could hear in the room was the click of the timmer and the chess pieces moving on the board.

The silence was soon broken when Frohike announced checkmate. And then she heard Mulder quickly blurt something out. She turned to face him not quite hearing what he had said and apparently neither had the Gunmen. She watched him take a deep breath. And his cheeks turned slightly crimson in colour. 

“Umm, we’re sorry, we didn’t mean to break it. We got carried away and we were drunk...”  There was a short pause and she sneaked a peek at the Lone Gunmen all three had straight faces giving nothing away. “Shit, guys, we’re sorry, okay? I’ll pay for any damages.” 

Then suddenly all three of them burst out laughing. Scully looked at them with confusion and that only made them laugh harder. She slumped in her seat and waited for them to stop. 

“Mulder, there’s no need to pay for damages, nothing was broken! We got you big time”

“Fuck you, guys,” Mulder said.

“You’re lucky I am on vacation or I would shoot each and every one of you,” Scully delivered angrily.

That shut all three of them right up and this time it was Mulder’s and Scully’s turn to laugh.

They left the Lone Gunmen shortly after and spent the remainder of the day walking the shoreline, talking about the future. They had a small picnic together and saw some wild horses gallop. 

It was getting late, the sun had disappeared on the horizon many hours ago. The temperature was still warm, even with the stars fluttering in the sky. 

Mulder felt hot and sticky and that was when an idea popped into his head. He looked at Scully, who was holding her sandals in one hand and a flaming torch in the other.  

“Have you ever been skinny dipping?”

She lifted her left eyebrow up it true Scully fashion. 

“No, I haven’t. And I don't intend to.”

“Are you sure? I bet the water is warm.”

Without warning, he placed the picnic basket he was holding at his feet. He took off his brown tank top and chucked it on the ground. Next were his shorts and boxers. He ran into the lapping waves and started to swim into the open waters. 

Scully stood there holding the flaming torch, watching in awe as the man she loved stripped in front of her and ran to the sea. She couldn’t help staring at the flames flickering across his tanned skin, the shadows dancing across his muscles. She licked her lips, they had suddenly become dry and her throat suddenly constricted. A pool off moisture forming in between her legs as she watched his firmly shaped backside run to the shoreline and disappear into the sea.

She sat on one of the sand dunes nearby and about 5 minutes later she saw his head bob back off the waves.

“Come on in Scully, the water is lovely.” She shook her head. “Come in!” And then he said those two little words, those two words that could make her do anything: “Trust me.” 

In no time she undid the knot around her neck, sliding the dress down her body, letting it fall to her ankles. She picked up the torch, and then her dress and his clothes as well, placing them all into the picnic basket. Then she set the torch back down in the sand. If I’m going to do this, I might as well go all in. She moved her hand around to her back, unclasping her strapless bra and placing at the basket too. Next was her lace panties, she glided them down her bare legs. She honestly could not believe she was about to do this. She walked up to the shoreline letting the waves tickle the tips of her toes. Taking a deep breath before walking into the sea following Mulder’s voice. He was right, the water is warm. 

Mulder had moved closer to her. His feet were touching the sea bed but she was still treading water. He soon noticed and wrapped his arms around her midframe pulling her to him. She instantly wrapped her legs around his hips and lent into his forearms.

They just stayed there and stared at each other, the moonlight splashing down its watery white-silver glow onto the sea bathing them, illuminating them, lessening the inky blackness of the night. The stars speckled and glittered in the heavens above them. In the distance, the trees were silhouetted against the duly lit house that overlooked the shore.

He kissed her cheek and then the crook of her neck, tasting the salt from the sea mixed in with the suncream she had applied earlier.

She felt his erection pressed against her inner thigh. There was something magical about this night she looked into his eyes and saw everything that needed to be said. 

He saw her eyes lock onto his, their eyes spoke where the mouths didn’t. He slithered his hand in between their bodies, grabbing his cock and bringing it towards her entrance easily slipping into her warmth. She moaned as the sea lapped up against her back.

She felt him in, filling her completely. His wet chest scraping against her taut nipples sending even more pleasure jolting through her body. He started rocking his hips at an extremely slow pace. Her legs clinging to him, her hips rocking in time with him. 

She felt incredible, she matched his pace. Though he knew she wanted to go faster, he wanted to prolong it as much as possible. But soon wasn't able to control himself as he felt the familiar tension coil up within him. He was lost in the sensation of her, her scent, her skin, her warmth. 

She felt so close now, his hips moving faster and less controlled. With her arms wrapped around his neck, she brought her lips to his. This kiss was so shamelessly hearty. So heartfelt, so fierce and decidedly telling him everything that he needed to know, her fears, her wishes and, most importantly, her love for him. She took his pouty bottom lip in her teeth and bit down as her body convulsed, her lower body twitched. As she felt her orgasm rip through her.

He felt her walls swallow him, pulse by pulse. And the coil that had sprung had broken and he emptied himself into her. He placed his head in the crook of her neck and bathed in the aftermath of the lovemaking.

She looked at him, and he saw something that he had never seen before.

“I love you,” she said.

He looked straight back at her and said, 

“I love you too.”

She placed her head on his chest, listening to the thump of his heart. She closed her eyes focusing on it. She felt him walk her to shore, never letting her go. 

She must have fallen asleep in his arms because the next thing she felt was the cool sheets being wrapped around her body and the warmth of him spooning against her back. She let her sleep overtake her, feeling safe and completely spent. 

Even though his body craved sleep, they had finally said the words, giving them a promise for a future. An undying declaration that they would be there for one another no matter what. He was right when he said the words a couple of days ago and he meant them.

He felt so much like wanting to have a family with her, to raise their children: half his, half hers. Maybe a little girl or a little boy with her complexion and her freckles. Her nose, the poor child would be cursed with his nose. With his hazel eyes and her red hair. A mixture of her inner strength and his loyalty. A passion for science and his sense of believing something that can’t be proven.

He yawned, finally feeling sleepy, and he nestled his face into her hair. His last thoughts were for her. Maybe one day we will have the dream, maybe one day we won't need to fear the future. 

[envydeanwrites]

Teardrops For You

Pairing: Destiel Rating: Teen & Up Tags: Grief, Character Death, Established Relationship, Funerals, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Dean and Cas holding each other, Sadness, light fluff, Angst, Car Accidents, Nightmares, Cuddling, Holding, Crying, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting Word Count: 1,500 Summary: The accident killed her and left Dean alive and emotionally broken. He's a disgrace. His best friend is dead and he can't even cry for her.

A/N: Neither Dean or Cas die in this fic :) 

Read on AO3 |  Written for the @writersofdestiel​ weekly words prompt: flowing teardrops. | Beta’d by @melitta4ever​ :)

Dean can't feel anything as the coffin is lowered into the ground. His mind is devoid of all emotion and all he can think is that his best friend has died and he can't shed a tear for her. He's a disgrace.

One glance over at Sam, standing tall next to Eileen as she clings to his side, both of them crying. For a moment he envies Sam’s pain when all he can feel is anger.

Castiel stands next to him, his hand holding Dean’s. It’s tight and uncomfortable but about the only thing he’s felt in days. He’s barely spoken to anyone, only briefly to Charlie’s parents about who was attending her funeral.

He’d been so afraid they’d hate him. After all, the last thing Dean remembers of Charlie is her little yellow bug rolling and crunching, screams of fear and pain as they’d been tossed into a ditch by a semi.

Survivors guilt. That’s what Cas called it. Dean survived, some nasty bruises and a concussion, nothing in comparison to Charlie’s death. It should have been him.

Cas has been great, leaving him in peace when he needs but never being too far away. Cas has been cooking all of their meals which Dean has barely eaten any of, adding to his already guilty conscience.

He’d thrown his plate at the sink yesterday, scaring them both as it shattered, but then Castiel had wrapped him in a long embrace that Dean needed but didn’t want or deserve. He only let it happen because Cas obviously needed it.

The sun shines brightly over them today, feeling inherently wrong for a funeral. Except, this is Charlie, she was nothing but sunshine. The minister says his last words and Charlie’s parents move to lay flowers. Dean strokes the head of the Hermione figurine that belonged to Charlie and gives it one last glance, the bobble head nodding at him. He releases Castiel’s hand, going to the graveside and lets go of the figurine, watching it fall into the grave. It thuds against the wooden lid.

The sound seems to echo in the quiet but Dean knows it’s only in his mind. He stands a moment longer, too long, he realises after Castiel pulls him back to the seating area.

Two groundsmen begin to fill in the hole as most of the small congregation departs. Charlie’s parents head back to the black car they came in and are soon out of sight. Sam and Eileen hover for a few moments and he understands that they want to see if Dean’s alright.

“Dean?”

Dean looks, but he doesn’t answer Sam like his brother wants.

“Eileen and I are heading home. You and Cas come round for dinner, you hear?”

“We’ll be there,” Castiel says for him, but Dean already knows that he won’t be going even if Castiel does.

Sam and Eileen disappear then, leaving Dean and Castiel as the only ones at Charlie’s graveside.

She’s not coming back.

A hand against his chest, slipping under his jacket to the dark shirt he’s wearing underneath, drags a warmth to him that he hasn’t felt in hours, despite the warm sun on their backs.

Castiel takes them home.

***

They both shed their funeral clothes, and Dean changes into a pair of pyjama pants and automatically slides into bed despite the fact it’s barely afternoon. He won’t sleep, he knows, but maybe he can rest.

Castiel doesn’t join him, and the bed feels huge without his presence, so he settles for pulling Castiel’s pillow to his chest and clutching it against him. It doesn’t feel any better but he has something to hold on to.

He remembers nights as a teen with Charlie in his bed—only after his parents had gone to sleep. They’d always been separated, Charlie in the guest room and Dean in his own double bed until Charlie came in with the new Batman comic and a torch. They’d hide under the covers until the early hours until they fell asleep together. Dean’s parents eventually gave up trying to keep them apart, finding it more hassle than it was worth.

He remembers Charlie meeting Castiel for the first time, a month after they'd started dating, and how enthusiastic she’d been. She’d practically forced Castiel into being a hugger and Dean doesn’t regret that for a moment. Charlie gives the best hugs, and Castiel has taken in all she has taught him.

Dean’s mouth quirks the smallest amount as he begins to nod off under the warmth of the covers. As soon as his eyes shut the nightmares come, waging war on his sleep.

“Charlie! Charlie!” he can barely hear his own voice above the sound of everything else. Metal crunching and car tumbling into the roadside ditch.

Charlie doesn’t answer him.

“Charlie!” he tries again.

“Dean?” the voice is small, scared and never before has he seen this side of Charlie. Dean does his best to move, held in awkwardly by his seat belt.

He finds Charlie, bloody, eyes wide and clearly in a lot of pain.

“It’s okay Charlie,” Dean assures her.

A shooting pain rings out through his head and Dean’s vision swims. He thinks he hears Charlie’s voice one last time before he’s rendered unconscious.

“I know.”

Dean wakes up. His pillow is wet beneath his face and that sets loose the floodgates. He clutches the pillow hard until his hands ache and he cries silently, mouth open and eyes squeezed shut. It must be ugly,  not that he cares. His best friend is dead. She didn’t even make it to the hospital.

Dean sits up, looking around him unsure how to handle himself. His hands feel useless. They grab onto anything and in his distress, they go to his head and pull at the short hairs until he can feel that instead of the pounding in his head.

He lets out a loud sob, unbidden, and suddenly Castiel is at the door, looking more concerned than before. As soon as their eyes meet, Castiel takes the few steps towards the bed and then pulls him into a hug.

He’s being cradled like a child and he grabs onto the back of Castiel’s shirt.

“I lost her,” Dean cries, hiccuping and leaving tear marks on Castiel’s shirt. “She’s gone, Cas, she gone.”

“I know.” Dean wishes he wouldn’t say those words but it’s Dean’s fault for keeping everything quiet. Dean knows Cas is crying too because all of this hurts. She was his friend too.

They hold each other for a long time, Dean curled up in Cas’ lap for most of it before weariness takes over them. Dean swaps the pillows out for one that isn’t tear soaked and lets Cas spoon him.

Teardrops fall onto Dean's shoulder and then tiny kisses as if to try and hide the tears. “Everything’s going to be okay,” Cas whispers and Dean tries his best to believe it.

It’s going to take a while, he knows that. He isn’t going to magically feel better tomorrow now that she’s buried, but he can work on it – they can work on it. Hand in hand if they need to, rely on one another and keep moving forward.

Dean sighs loudly, breath shuddering as his tears finally dry up.

“Maybe not tomorrow, but I’m finally going to hang that photo of us camping last year in the hallway,” Dean breathes.

Cas’ arms tighten around him, enveloping him in love and warmth.

“I’d really like that too. I’ll stand and watch, make sure it’s straight,” Castiel tells him, voice a little stronger.

“I don’t think you get the vote on straight,” Dean jibes and it feels good, the weight in his heart lessens as he forgets for just mere moments.

“Don’t be so rude.” Castiel nips Dean’s shoulder then presses a kiss moments afterwards.

Dean turns over, slotting his legs between Castiel’s so they can still be close.

“Have you seen the shelf in the kitchen? The first thing...” Dean swallows, the pain rushing back all too soon. A tear slips from his eye and Castiel wipes it away. “The first thing Charlie said when she saw it was that it was wonky.”

“I call it rustic.”

Dean kisses Castiel’s nose and watches as he scrunches his face up with a smile, then Castiel returns the favour.

*** The canvas photograph that goes up two days later is brightly coloured between Charlie’s red hair and pink shirt, Jo’s yellow vest top and Meg’s purple hoodie. Cas and Dean are both wearing sunglasses and grinning at each other. Eileen is on Sam’s back to one side, just making it into the shot when the picture was taken and they look happy.

They all look happy.

And even though Charlie’s gone, Dean and Cas, hand in hand, will go back to that spot and make new memories. Charlie had even boasted that the secluded hillside had the perfect view for a wedding.

They’ll make it. For Charlie.

[3amflailing]

THE OA PART 2 TRAILER BREAKDOWN- VISUAL/AUDIBLE ELEMENTS

·    Buckle up, because this is only part 1 of the breakdown! so this is my notes from the trailer, where I try to clarify on the shots and also put in any really really strong associations. I’m going to do a part 2 (either tonight or tomorrow depending on when i finish my homework) where I break down the important bits and their significance, what I think the storyline will be, and questions that arise. I hope the format isn’t too messed up, I don’t really want to rewrite this all. over 2000 words y’all, and we’re not done yet! please add any notes/thoughts you have, i’m only one person and I’m gonna miss stuff 100%. thanks!!!!!

 Trailer starts in hospital, similar parallel to first season in which we find Prairie in the hospital

·        Coherence check: fingers, year, president (OA is there but in a new dimension, where everyone, including Barack Obama, is no longer the same person in the previous dimension)

·        “I Did It” (dimension jump)

·        Boat scene- curious that Nina is travelling on water (water symbolism)

o   Seems to be affected by an unseen force, likely OA’s consciousness travelling into her body

o   Looking over Golden Gate Bridge- we see this bridge from another angle later

·        Hospital scene cont’d

o   We see OA check her chest, where the bullet should have been. There isn’t a would, she is perfectly fine, so it is her mind/consciousness that is travelling through to another body, not her entire self jumping

o   “I jumped” OA

o   Sobbing in happiness afterwards

·        Port of san Francisco

o   Is there another scene/shot of this location in s1? It has a different vibe to it

§  Red/white/orange colours, interesting that Nina was wearing orange upon jump

o   “nothing happens the way I imagined”

·        Nina’s Apartment

o   Does he say “let me in, Ms. Azarova”???? butler

o   Old fashioned key, very fancy, expensive Parisian apartment

o   Nina Azarova is RICH- a butler/personal driver?? A personal maid??

o   The key looks old fashioned but we hear beeping- indicating that it is actually technology?? Disguising the old as new

o   She wears lots of white here, symbolism

o   “I live here?” OA

o   Furniture

§  Birdcage

§  Portrait of father

§  Painting over chair

§  Various Russian pictures? Hard to see

§  Gauzy curtains, plants

§  Furniture items in front become a gateway into house

§  Glass tables of varying heights- this is really impractical, but could it be symbolism for dimensions?

§  Very circular- white couch, candles and its white table, fireplace things, table, plant pots

§  Things in fireplace, what are they?

§  The rug almost seems to be a distortion of the floor print, it looks just like it but raised a little

§  Four pictures frames each look alike but the art within is different (at least sized), dimension symbolism

·        Hap + Captives

o   “we travelled into another dimension, into other versions of ourselves” -Hap

o   They all had bindings on them- wrists and mouth? At least Rachel’s mouth was bound (interesting given her NDE power of singing) which connected them all together

o   Pentagon shape

o   Colour symbolism- renata and homer in light clothes, Rachel and Hap in grey, Scott in black

o   Do the Movements in an empty field- does he take them there?

o   Field pentagon goes right into building pentagon

o   Building pentagon

§  Looks like a group therapy session almost, very clinical and clean

o   Hap in office

§  Once again looks like Hap is a scientist

§  Lots of things on board- standouts are the human brain, something to the left of it (can’t tell what), picture of a clock(?), maybe stars?, wavelengths?

§  Two busts, one bald and white, the other brown/yellow with hair

§  Clock on desk

§  Weird hanging lamps

o   Different haircuts and facial hairs-

§  Hap has a beard and longer hair

§  Homer has a beard

§  Scott has no beard and clinical fringe

§  Rachel has clinical fringe

o   Hap laughs joyfully and grabs on to Homer (he doesn’t see them as experiments but as coworkers- does Homer feel this way too?) Homer appears to start grabbing Hap’s arms also

o   Woman in background- nurse? Attendant? Who is she?

o   Shot of eye, in which the pupil contains constellations and galaxies flickering in and out

o   “do you understand what we’re on the edge of here?” -Hap

·        Tunnel

o   Red lighting

o   Karim Washington

·        Circle shot

o   Looks like an eye

o   Something bright in centre, with beds circled all around it in 3

o   Beds appear to have children on them- can see stuffed animals

o   Inner circle has 8 beds, 3 attendants(?) (though there are 4 spots), one child appears to be moving to/off their bed

o   Attendants appear to be holding something- maybe a computer? A typewriter?

o   2nd circle has 12 beds- room for exits at the front and bottom of the shot, looks like every 2 beds also has an attendant

o   3rd circle can be seen on the edges of the shot

o   Hap voiceover: “it’s godlike, prairie”

·        Tunnel cont’d

o   Karim looks down through window/vent in tunnel with confusion on his face- is he looking at the earlier circle shot?

·        C and H Pure Cane Sugar

o   Red/white/orange colours again, yellow

o   “my name’s Karim Washington. I’m a private investigator”

·        Karim

o   On a street, looking into the Cane Sugar place perhaps?

o   Binoculars

o   We see him show his badge/certifications to OA

§  Looks like they’re in the same clinical place where the pentagon travelled to

o   “I’m looking into the disappearance of a teenager staying at this house”

o   Karim crouches down and looks at a hideout?

o   There’s a vent or something in the wall, it either could have a red fabric stuffed into it or be a weird art piece of a rose

o   Mishmash patterns of blankets, though this shot looks to be inside? Maybe in a basement?

o   Very big house, dark colours, shot paints it to be very dark, ominous and looming

o   “Is this the missing person?” OA asks to Karim

§  OA and Karim, they appear to be at a restaurant or coffee shop at the side of a road

§  Meeting for breakfast- OA has pancakes, untouched

§  Karim appears to be holding something up to his face- did he get punched? Is that ice? Definitely something held in a napkin

o   “why, what, you look like you’ve seen a ghost” Karim replies

§  Puts down his pack of ice(?)

o   “the image just… reminds me of a young man I knew in Michigan” OA

§  OA is visibly disturbed, this is one of the Crestwood 5 boys

·        OA writing

o   She’s writing her personal timeline

o   It all leads back to the bus crash- without it she remained Nina Azarova, went to Paris, her father lived, she went to college

o   The bus crash is where her identities split and become separate people

o   “it’s all connected” OA

·        BOAT SHOT

o   We see someone walking down the causeway of a dock

o   This is not OA, this person has dark hair

o   There is one boat missing, and boats at various lengths away from the causeway

o   Water symbolism

o   “we can get to the bottom of it” OA

·        Underground tunnel

o   OA and Karim hurrying towards a light

o   “you’re tougher than you look” Karim

o   “you’re kinder than you seem” OA

o   Humour within those words- almost as if its black comedy, prepping themselves for something difficult

o   Karim reaches to open a metal door or vault or something

o   Harsh green light- likely still under in tunnel

o   OA turns around suddenly- is someone behind? Is she on the lookout?

·        Homer

o   This shot mirrors the last shot of season 1, except it’s inverse: the light is dark, OA looks like she’s about to crumble/is devastated, her voice ticks downwards

o   “Homer” OA

·        Flashback to her and homer touching hands through the glass of their cages

·        Shot of Rachel and scott and OA- likely touching for the first time, Renata at the window smoking with the golden gate bridge in the background

o   “Rachel, Scott, and Renata” OA

o   This is the other shot of the bridge!!!

·        Crestwood 5 shot-

o   BBA swimming, French, Buck, Steve, Jesse, and Angie all watching her

o   Does Angie replace OA as young female in group? What does she know- what have they told her?

o   “BBA and the boys” OA (does she not know about Angie then?)

o   Shot of all except BBA running towards beach/ocean- water symbolism

§  BBA and another blonde woman come in behind

§  Steve and Buck are looking right (viewer’s right)

§  Jesse and French looking left, with BBA and other woman

§  Angie is looking straight? Or eyes closed

·        OA talking

o   “I asked you to believe in impossible things”

o   Flashback to Prairie in the sun when Hap lets her upstairs, OA on Steve’s bike

o   Shot of a door, a window, or something- is this from s1 or s2?

o   Karim looks through a small window, confused, what is he seeing?

o   NO ONE SURVIVES text

o   “you never once looked at me like I was crazy” OA

o   OA fighting in hospital, likely trying to escape

§  This shot has a fence through the window- where is this? It almost looks like a weird private hospital or a home

o   OA covers her eyes in hospital, wearing nail polish and two rings with a hospital band

o   ALONE text

o   Rachel and OA touch heads

·        The House

o   “everyone who goes inside this house comes out cracked up or doesn’t come out at all”

o   Appears to be Karim and OA inside the house mentioned

o   They are carrying old-fashioned fire torches?

o   OA looks closely at a single picture on the wall, wearing the Red Dress

o   OA has a lighter for light and touches her fingers to a hole in the wall

o   Karim is in a mirror room with red candlelight- he appears panicked, as if he doesn’t know what’s happening or where to go

·        Outside shots

o   “you gotta open your eyes” scott

o   Shot of OA in wolf top and Young Nina watching what appears to be Rachel in a floating glass/ice box- ties in with Snow White, episode title of “Mirror Mirror”

§  Rachel opens her eyes (brown) and then it suddenly turns to OA

o   Forest with lightning (?) running through it

o   Flashback to steve running after OA in ambulance

o   “I cannot give up on you” OA??? Rachel???

o   Homer appears outside, bearded, wearing normal clothing and what appears to be a ring (resembles the one in s1), looks frustrated, putting his hands to his head

o   Crater shot

§  4 people in craters- it’s hard to tell who they are

§  Pits dug all around, some look as if they were made from something launched at them, others by regular digging

§  Then the next crater shot appears to be Angie and Jessie in one hole (?) pulling Karim (?) towards them while 2 unidentifiable people try to do the same (separate holes) and another person is to the right corner, watching perhaps?

§  “this is not a time to be brave” Karim

·        The House cont’d

o   OA goes with her lighter, Karim with the fire torch, to the door of the house, Karim looks through the window

o   The light is on inside

o   “this is a time to be smart” Karim

·        Tree shot

o   OA and Karim appear to be putting together a puzzle which highly resembles the cut of a tree trunk- each puzzle piece is hexagonal

o   The tree is huge

·        Renata speaks(?)- [I can’t tell if this is Renata or not but both women have brown hair, an accent]

o   “all this beauty, this energy, what holds it all together?” Renata

o   Hap and Renata appear to be at a concert or some fancy event

o   Shot of forest, OA looks up and closes her eyes (same location as with her and Young Nina)

o   Karim and OA are underground in a (Russian?) strip club, there are dancers in only underwear hanging from the celing

§  This looks to be the same place as the underground tunnel

o   Steve, Angie, and French all in swimgear running to the ocean

o   Jesse looks on

o   Shot of the sunset of the beach, then of the sunset of the city with a bridge in view (unclear if GG Bridge), two traincars passing each other

o   OA and Nina underwater

§  Nina pounding at glass again- new shot of from s1?

o   Shot of entire world

o   “what keeps it all from dissolving into noise?” renata

o   Hap burns something in a pit (pit looks like what we see in the craters before)

§  Can’t tell if this is a body or clothes

o   Clinical building of pentagon shot- scott and Renata(? Very long hair, completely different from s1) are locked away in separate rooms

§  Highly suspect that this is an asylum or mental health facility

§  Scott is #348

·        Assorted shots

o   Sun rising up

o   Steve shaving his head (Asheville?)

o   A man underwater holding his head- maybe Steve but the body looks less fit than him, maybe Homer? Unclear

o   Karim coming down steps holding a body/someone- this doesn’t look like OA in clothes and everything

o   OA being thrown into the earth/hole and coming out of a massive tree trunk which appears to float in the air, likely representation of a portal

o   Shot of a keyhole-shaped tunnel of neon light, as seen in the press photo being released of P2

o   TEXT The left side of the A in OA appears to be distorted by the light, not straight, same with the left side of the O

§  Another OA comes behind it

·        Ending

o   OA in Red Dress and unknown man walk through the neon tunnel, OA turns to him, there is a single chair in front of a red curtain visible

o   “cue spots in 5, 4, 3 [distorted], 2, 1, “

o   Shot of a mouth- perhaps Karim’s?

o   Shots of switches-  labelled ENRY #1, ENTRY #2, there is a label that says “ARMED”

o   OA’s hand is tied to the chair, circular marks up her arm are visible

o   The neon lights in the tunnel start going off

o   Karim looks upon something

o   Black and white camera of OA looking very unsettled, her Red Dress now looks white and the patch is clearly visible- reminiscent of a shot wound where blood spreads

[keezree]

He’s All The Rage! Ch:2

While your time with Elora and the others was short, you discovered quite a bit about the sub-worlds. Many of them experienced a plethora of troubles. Certain sub-worlds seemed to be at war with another, while others suffered difficulties within, amongst their own inhabitants. All the while, you kept your eyes open for Ripto and his companions, yet you didn't see a single sign of them.

You were worried of course because of the apparent chaos he had brought with him once he arrived in Avalar. You kept quiet about it because you didn't want to assume anything yet. You were the type to take everything in with your own mind and thoughts and assess things once you had sufficient information to make a well balanced judgment. Perhaps the things that Ripto had inflicted upon Avalar had happened before your arrival and so it seemed like he hadn't anything to do with the warring worlds. You toured the calming Summer Forest, the cool water inviting under the ever shining summer sun. A reintroduction to Autumn Plains. Admittedly, perhaps you were partial to this Home World because it was where your portal had appeared and where you first arrived. “We've already shown you this world but it's along the way, may as well give you the full tour in the order the worlds exist.” The ever autumn trees were just as beautiful as when you first stepped through. How long had you been here anyway? It felt like forever ago but yet not that long ago at all. Finally, Winter Tundra opened its cold air to you and you were grateful that you had your winter coat. The sky was perpetually night time here and it reminded you of back home. You wondered if perhaps the portal you had fallen through had remained in the middle of the road, invisible to everyone but you. Or perhaps there were other humans who still believed in the magic of dragons and fairies and were able to see it also. Ah! You had closed it. Right. Then, could you open it wherever? Perhaps you shouldn't dwell on it too long unless your human magic was able to open it again even from here. You were shaken from your thoughts as your posse arrived at a portal that seemed a tad bit larger than the others. It had circular clasps around the arch of the portal that looked like they once housed something. One or two orbs were stuck within the claw like clasps. “Here is where Ripto and his friends came to Avalar.” Elora gestured. You looked at the huge stone and metal archway. While inactive, it still seemed to emanate a faint electric buzz in the air. Magic, you assumed. Potentially the orbs in their casings. The only thing you really had solidified in your memory of what made this place work was that there were gems, orbs, talismans and dragons that all had magical powers. Though, it was still very vague on how they all interacted with each other and what effects either alone, or combined, had on this world.

“Right after the Professor had finished the portal Hunter managed to mess around with the controls. He entered his birth date as coordinates for the portal and guess who came stomping through?” She sighed. Hunter hid sheepishly behind the Professor, pretending he didn't exist. “Well, he more fell in than stomped in.” He offered, attempting to defend himself in some way. “Fell, stomped, whatever! Regardless he is here and we need him out. The last we had seen him was when we met you at Autumn Plains, but he's taken over the castle in Summer Forest. Spyro was on his way there to see if he could kick that riptoc's butt out of there when Hunter came to us with the emergency about your portal.” Spyro smiled and stretched casually as if the whole ordeal was as easy as making a sandwich. “That shouldn't be too difficult, I've torched nasties way bigger and smarter than his goons.” “We'll get you home soon Spyro. Don't worry.” Elora turned to you. “For now, perhaps it's best if you stick to the home worlds, the sub-worlds might be a bit dangerous to a human who is just learning how to use their own abilities.” The Professor nodded. “Yes, that's probably for the best. Also your powers are faded, not yet forgotten but on the verge of being nonexistent. Perhaps being here in Avalar, as well as in the presence of a dragon, your magic may bloom and grow again. In your human world it may not be as concentrated though. Despite how hard or strong you may believe, there's something in the human world itself that seems to negate and dilute magic. That's why its so rare a thing to witness.” That explained it, you wondered what it was that caused magic to dissipate the way it did in your home world. Maybe you'd discover it one day. It was also probably safest that you didn't use your magic in your own world. Think of the madness that would ensue! People would be curious about the dragon realms and how could you possibly explain and not be pegged as someone insane? Though magic itself would probably convince them. If humans saw you were able to do even small simple feats, they'd believe anything you said in order to get their greedy hands on it. It made you a little sad to think just how greedy some people could be. Though, you knew that not every single person on the planet was cruel. You had seen plenty of kind and understanding people in your life. What was it then that singled you out? Was it that you were able to keep your childlike wonder and imagination? Was it something within the Avalar realms themselves that brought you here? Maybe the super portal opened sub world portals without the Professor and the others knowing. He did after all admit that even he didn't know everything there was to know about portals. So many portals! “We're gonna head back to Summer Forest , ______. If you want to come along, I suggest you steer clear of the deeper parts of the castle, that's where Ripto has hidden himself, the coward.” Elora scowled. You thought a moment. It was beautiful in Winter Tundra, but you wanted to be warm! “ I'll come with you.” You rubbed your ungloved hands together. How were they all able to stay warm? Spyro maybe was alright with his dragon fire and his higher temperatures, the others had fur, something you did not. You followed the group to two parallel platforms, you had learned they were home world portals that reached other home worlds within Avalar. Your thoughts lingered on Ripto and the battle that was supposedly to come between him and Spyro. He really didn't seem all that bad when you met him. Impulsive, childish and angry yes but not evil. “Maybe there could be a way to get them to talk to Ripto instead of fight him.” You thought as you stepped onto the magical platform. The blissful warmth of Summer Forest greeted you as you appeared through, and in front of the platform. You weren't sure which method of inter-world travel you liked better. Platforms were easier to step onto than fall into like portals. Portals made you feel like you were going to fall forever and recently you had been through so many you damn near forgot your fear of falling. However platforms almost made you feel like you were shrinking into nothingness as it brought you down to a single point and warped you to the designated world. Both sensations were strange but convenient. Maybe you'd get used to them. The castle stood to your left as you exited the platform. It rested beyond a lake which you had to swim through and under in order to reach the inner parts. That didn't seem very well thought out. What if you couldn't swim? Or hold your breath long enough to make it all the way through the tunnel? Then a darker, deeper thought crawled up from your mind. What if you died here? What if you drowned or if somehow, getting caught up in battle between Ripto and Spyro, you were destroyed? Following along you watched as Spyro dove down into the water and swam with ease through the tunnel with Sparx near him. The two seemed connected to each other somehow, more than just friends. When Spyro took damage you realized that Sparx also appeared to be hurt in some way you couldn't yet figure out. He changed colours and sometimes seemed to disappear altogether. He would reappear or grow to his usual golden yellow glow if Spyro killed what he called a fodder animal. It'd would vanish in a puff of smoke and from where it once was a butterfly would be lazily flapping. Sparx would gobble it up and regain his health. It shocked you every time he would destroy one of these small creatures. Yet here in Avalar that seemed to be the norm. Within the sub-worlds also Spyro unflinchingly charged his horns into creatures or charred them with his blazing breath. You were assured that their spirits were fine and that magic treated death and spirits slightly different than in your world. Their souls were sent to these strange gates the Professor called power ups. Apparently he invented them? It wasn't apparent how he figured out souls could power these gates but you didn't want to let your mind wander down dark paths. Yet it seemed to every time you watched your friends. They easily destroyed harmless creatures and those who seemed to pose even the most minor of threats.

Did you.... Did you have to be careful around them? Watching your friends approach the castle you were suddenly not so sure that they were to be trusted. Would Spyro turn his flames on you should you come into conflict? Elora and Hunter waved you over to the pool. “Here _____, we'll teach you a spell that allows you to hold your breath longer than you normally can. That's how Spyro is able to stay down there so long.” She pointed to him as he watched you all from below the water. “ Imagine a bubble around your head, you have to feel the soft sheet of water wrapping around the air and encasing your head. In every detail, picture it as clearly as possible.” Closing your eyes, you did as she instructed. The air around your head buzzed and you felt something vaguely wet touch upon your face and expand outward. It was almost as if you had put a balloon around your head and it had expanded, without the painful sensation and tightness of jamming your face into a balloon. Opening your eyes you looked around from your newly shifting world. Everything had a vague iridescence to it. As you moved your head the bubble around it bobbed this way and that. “Haha excellent job!” Hunter laughed. “Now get in there and show me your swimming skills!” He playfully pushed you towards the water but it was a little too enthusiastic a shove and you fell forwards into the warm water. It was strange to see the world from inside a bubble but delightfully freeing as you swam with ease after Spyro, though the tunnel. On the other side you were met by a beautiful room with a domed roof. Some mysterious light reflected from somewhere off of the waters surface and onto the ceiling above. Elora and Hunter popped up beside you. You exited the water and your bubble vanished. You thought it would pop but it simply ceased to be. It was really odd but you accepted it. You decided not to expect anything “normal” to happen while in Avalar. Magic and shit. In the next room a few other portals lie as well as another domed roof. It was warmer looking here, a wonderful golden like glow. A gigantic tree sprouted from the middle of the room where a small circular patch of grass lie. Little beds of water rested on the edges of the room. You didn't have a chance to look very long as the others made their way to a series of button activated doors. You suspected it was part of the castles defence system. It was not a very good one. Breezing past a lone portal, “Aquaria Towers” you noticed sheep bounding along in the enclosed grassy area. Spyro flamed one as he trotted by and a butterfly appeared in the air. He continued on, leaving the butterfly to flutter alone, the other sheep nervously bounced away. “Er, not feeling 100% Spyro? Don't you need that butterfly for Sparx?” you hesitantly queried. “Naw, I just did it for fun It's great seeing them run away like that.” Something inside you turned a deep cold. You felt even less secure now with Spyro and his friends. Turning to look at them you noticed they didn't seem to care about Spyro's actions. Taking a sharp right, you saw a long hallway leading to a hole in the floor. The others stopped and watched as Spyro made to jump down the hole. “Remember Spyro, if you need help we'll be watching. Hunter and I are prepared to keep you safe if you get in trouble.” “No problem!” Spyro boasted, “I'll be in and out faster than you can blink.” He charged towards the hole and fell down into it. Hunter began counting on his fingers as he blinked. Elora simply shook her head. “C'mon, we gotta go after him and make sure he stays safe. ______ It's probably for the best if you just stay here.” Grabbing Hunter by the wrist she drug him towards the pit. “But wait! I only counted to threeeee~” His voice trailed off as the two descended. When his voice disappeared, you were left in an unbearable silence. Now the thrum of magic in this world seemed ominous. Below you, right now Spyro was fighting with Ripto. Were they really going to fight to the death? After a moments hesitation you followed. Plummeting down the pit felt akin to when you first entered Avalar. However, this time it was not a beautiful grassy plain that met your feet. Instead it was a rocking, unsteady battlefield. It looked to be a sewer of sorts. A giant round platform sat in the middle of the room. Spyro charged along after Crush, who was retreating to a metal disk like stand on the floor. A few other metal circles lie in a pattern all around the room. Some red, some blue, all big enough that Crush stood easily on them. The circles began glowing and Crush leapt onto one of them, a blue one. A wave of some blue magical energy burst out in the form of a wave, heading towards Spyro. He easily leapt over it and once more charged after the blue beast. Spyro breathed fire at him, making Crush leap up and cry out in pain. Ripto's blue friend battered at the ground with his drumstick club while Spyro charged away. You almost lost your footing as part of the ceiling caved in and dropped in chunks on Crush's head. It piled on him but he stood and shook it off. Crush was clearly outmatched. Spyro was too fast and Crush was unable to dodge his fiery breath. Once again he swung his club down to bash the dragon but missed. Again the force of the club colliding with the ground caused the room to become unstable and the ceiling again crumbled onto Crush. This time, he did not get up. “What?!” Ripto stood aghast up on his ledge. Your heart sank. Poor Crush! You remembered his big goofy face as he danced around Spyro's flames when you first met him. He seemed so harmless. He couldn't have possibly won against Spyro. This was an unfair fight! You weren't sure if you were going to cry or throw up as you felt your chest grow tight. Crush's hand loosened it's grip on the club and he poofed under the rubble, just like the sheep. Just like the other inhabitants that stood against Spyro. “Nooo! Crush!” Ripto cried with anguish in his voice. A look of sorrow flashed across his face but was soon replaced with anger. “You may have been able to defeat that simpleton, but Gulp will be more than a match for you!” He cried, pointing down at the purple adversary. “Bring it on, shorty!” Spyro taunted. Something in Ripto snapped. He took in Spyro's words, glanced down at himself and snarled. He growled, clenching his fists he threw them down in anger. Was that a soft spot for him? Making a mental note of not mentioning his stature you continued watching the scene unfold. “Gulp!” His voice echoed through the sewer like room. “Come here now!” He pointed to the ground. Ripto was clearly was not having the best of days. He had just lost his friend and now Spyro stood there insulting him just after committing the act. If Gulp were to try fighting Spyro, you weren't sure you could let it happen. You started walking forwards, wanting to shout out to him when the ground began to shake again. Gulp emerged through the wall behind Ripto. Ripto smiled at his lumbering friend and pointed at Spyro. “Destroy him! And make sure it's painful!” He commanded the behemoth. Gulp growled in understanding and looked to Spyro. He then looked up suddenly to the ceiling. It couldn't stand anymore damage to the supporting structure and began crumbling in. “What?!” Ripto cried in alarm. “Get me outta here!” He shouted to Gulp. The green big boi knelt down. You watched as he allowed a worried looking Ripto to climb onto his back. As he stood back to full height he called out to Spyro. “So long, dragon!” He used the last word like an insult, leaning forward to emphasize his contempt. Gulp turned and Ripto turned with him. The two departed and the roof caved in just after them. “What a wuss.” Spyro shook his head as a book began floating in front of him. You remembered it had something to do with keeping record of the worlds of Avalar but you didn't stay to see what he was doing. You returned back up through the pit via a whirlwind. You exited the castle before anyone could see you. This was all too much, you needed out. When you reached the exterior of the castle you were shocked to see someone running ahead of you to one of the inter world platforms. It was Gulp and Ripto!You dashed after them. “Wait!” You called out. Ripto turned his head to look for the voices owner. Your legs managed to carry you alongside the hulking form of Gulp. He was fast but not faster than you. “You?! What do you want? You aren't leading that dragon to me are you?! Gulp!” Gulp skidded to a halt and slowly turned to you. It was a little frightening to say the least, being in front of that maw. You noticed his lower left cuspid had been snapped off. His large nose took a long whiff of you. Ripto stood atop his cranium, scowling down at you. “What is it human? I swear if you're bringing that dragon to me, Gulp will be having an early dinner!” You shook your head dismissing his worry. You tried talking around the lump in your throat. “I..I'm sorry about Crush. I didn't think Spyro would really just...Just kill him like that. Are, are you alright?” You looked up to Ripto. His face flickered into an unreadable expression. Perhaps confusion or disbelief. It lasted a few seconds but returned to his usual frustrated scowl. “Of course I'm alright! Crush was...He was...” Ripto growled his response. His voice sounded kind of funny. Losing Crush hit him a lot harder than it hit you. “Crush was expendable! Gulp won't fail me. I can promise you that! The next time I see that dragon he's going to find himself in the pit of Gulp's stomach!” Gulp growled happily and licked his lips. “Are you just going to stand there? Come on! Before that dragon catches up!” He shouted down to Gulp. Gulp started off again towards the platform. Turning his massive head he looked back to you. Did he expect you to follow? Ripto followed Gulp's line of sight. You stood there unsure what do to. Did you go with him? Knowing that in doing so you might be marked as an enemy and meet the same fate as Crush? Or did you stay, leaving Ripto to flee with this whole world against him. Was he really the villain in all of this? He claimed to be this destructive force. Elora had recounted to you how he had arrived and proclaimed himself king. Apparently he also instructed Gulp to kill one of the fairies who had taken part in destroying his sceptre. However, what difference did that make? In this world, it was a very jagged line between what was a justifiable extermination of a person and what was seen as a criminal act. Ripto glanced back at you, seeing what was slowing Gulp down and he shook his head in frustration. “Arg! Forget them! To the platform! Now!” Gulp dove onto the glowing stone platform and the two disappeared down into it. They had headed to Autumn Plains. Your feet seemed frozen to the spot and your mind was no better. Which was the right way to choose? You had witnessed Spyro's actions though he claimed to be the hero, while you watched Ripto do essentially nothing and be charged with villainy. You couldn't stand for this. It just didn't feel right. You made to take a step to the platform when you heard a familiar, now slightly troubling voice call out behind you. “Hey! ____! It's all clear! The castle is safe and sound. I took care of Ripto's minion. If you want to explore, you're free to do so.”Spyro chucked as he casually glided over to you, landing in the grass. Elora and Hunter followed behind him. “You made short work of him Spyro, great job!” She congratulated him, a proud smile crossed her face. “I'll make short work of Ripto too! Ha ha!” Everything felt so different now. This unease clawed through your chest. The desire to just run through the field overcame you again like when you first witnessed this world, however it was now paired with the desire to escape. “Which way did Ripto head?” Hunter looked about him, trying to see if he could find any clues. Fear started nibbling in your mind. You didn't dare direct them. It was far from your desires to bring any more death in this world. “I'm not sure. But if we split up into the two remaining worlds, I'm sure one of us will spot him.” Elora started towards the platforms. “Uh...So, what erm. What happened to Crush? Did his soul get absorbed into a power up gate?” You quietly asked. “Who knows, I'm not sure if the same rules apply to people from outside the Avalar worlds. It might have just dissipated.” Your heart sank. If you had known where his spirit had gone, it would have given you some amount of ease. Maybe you could also bring a soul back out of the gate if it could be absorbed into it. But to just disappear like that... “What about people who are from here?” “Well, most souls are just used to power gates, but if a fairy zaps you with her wand, it can create a sort of saved spot in time where you can return to.” You had seen a few fairies here and there zapping Spyro as he charged by. It was a curiosity that you wanted answered but you hadn't the time before. “Here!” Hunter pushed you towards a fairy who was flying nearby. “This is Zoe. She's a friend of ours. Hey Zoe! Can you show ____ how your save spots work?” Zoe was about half your size,clothed in a yellow dress. Her reddish brown hair was tied back in a pony tail that bobbed up and down as she fluttered in the air with her translucent colourful wings. “Sure thing Hunter!” she cheerfully complied. You felt yourself tense up as she aimed her small white wand at you. A white zap of charged air seemed to explode around you and you felt like a part of your soul was tied down to the earth, right in the exact spot you stood. “If anything should happen to you, like Ripto or any other dangers in Avalar, you'll wake up back here again.” If anything should happen, you thought. If you were to die... You felt cold despite the blazing summer sun beating down on your head, warming your hair. Making your way to the platforms, you edged your way closer to the Autumn Plains one, hoping that if you ran into Ripto again, you could warn him at least, that they were trying to find him. He probably was already aware of this. He was probably already hiding. Managing to secretly assign yourself Autumn Plains, you were paired up with Spyro while Elora and Hunter decided upon Winter Tundra. Spyro as your investigating partner wasn't your first decision, however you couldn't make a complaint without revealing what your true intentions were. Silently you stepped onto the portal after Spyro. The air whirled around you and you felt yourself brought back to a single point in space and warped to the cooler, familiar location. Autumn Plains was unchanged, Ripto nowhere to be seen, thankfully. Wait, there was one difference. The banners with blue suns over a river had now been replaced by ones depicting Ripto's smiling face. Argh! Why couldn't he have been a bit more subtle?! “Well, he's here alright. Better get to it!” Spyro charged off and left you behind. You dashed after him, hoping that Ripto was hidden somewhere safe in the castle. Passing a dapper looking bear fellow who tried to teach you how to climb a ladder for a fee, you saw Spyro darting around above you in a hallway. Much to the bears dismay, you climbed the ladder like a pro and reached the top. It was troubling to be so high on such a narrow ledge with no railings to keep you from falling. It was more troubling to think that Spyro may be on his way to extinguish Gulp and Ripto's life. You pushed yourself forward as the ground spun below you. While not a lot bothered you in life, being someplace high with a very solid ground below you was something you couldn't quite stay calm through. After another ladder, even higher, you found the hallway Spyro had charged down. You made to walk down it when Spyro charged back past you. “Oh! There you are ____ What took you so long?” “Er...” “Ripto sealed a door up ahead, that wimp is hiding in the castles dungeons probably. The Professor said I needed more orbs to get past it. I need to combine my magic with orb magic to break the seal.” Your worry must have been apparent. “Oh hey don't worry!” He tried to reassure you. “I'll take care of Ripto and his pal no problem. I just gotta collect a few more orbs.C'ya!” He charged away to one of the nearby portals. “That is a problem!” you  let out an exasperated sigh. How could you possibly prevent Spyro from harming Gulp and Ripto? Spyro was fast, his horns were sharp, his flames were impossibly hot and he was also purple. Well, you thought to yourself. I made it up here, I may as well look around. In reality you wanted desperately to get back on solid ground but you weren't ready to take on those ladders again. Climbing up was one thing but heading down... The thought of having to stare down at the ground while you inched your way along the steep ledge and cold metal ladders seemed to involuntarily move your feet for you, away from them. Farther along the curving hallway that circled the castles floor, you saw a few portals, one only accessible by flight or a really lucky jump, and the door Spyro had mentioned. The Professor stood in font of it, scratching away like he always did on his clipboard. It had something to do with the super portal, you remembered him mentioning once when you inquired on your tour of the multitude of Avalar sub-worlds. He seemed engrossed in his work and didn't notice you. You managed to sneak past him and slide up to the gate. It was sealed, what did you expect? You tried to push it and pry it open but to no avail. Only the orbs could over power Ripto's seal on them. And your magic was very weak. That didn't stop you from trying however. Glancing over your shoulder at the Professor, scribbling unaware of your presence, you took a deep breath and attempted to create your own opening within the gate. This won't work, he's got himself sealed in there, you thought. He's afraid. Of course he's not going to let anyone in. No, wait! You had to believe! Belief in your own magic made it stronger. If you could open up a portal to this world itself, perhaps you could open up a door that was simply sealed by magic. You knew Ripto's magic was powerful but you forced your will regardless. I WILL get through to him! You shouted in your mind. There was not a single trace of doubt as your magic formed a smaller door within the already existing one. It solidified, just big enough for you to get through. Turning the handle gently you noiselessly entered the door, closing it behind you and dismantling it with the lack of belief in it. The gate looked as it had before. No trace of your magic was left. You turned to the hall behind you and ran to the hole in the ground at the end. Leaping down you let the whirlwind carry you. Therein, a pacing Ripto was being watched by a concerned Gulp. When you landed, Gulp's head turned from his master to your sudden arrival. You waved cautiously to him and he let out a growl, acknowledging your greeting. The growl drew Ripto out of his anxious pacing, his head darted to look up at Gulp who was smiling dopely at you, and then to you. “What?! You again! How did you get in here that door was sealed tight! Wait...Don't tell the the dragon made it through!? And you led him here! You blasted human! Gulp! After them!” Gulp looked from Ripto to you and then to Ripto again. He didn't seem to want to attack you. “What are you doing? I said attack!” He pointed in your direction but Gulp still refused to move. “Wait, please!” Ripto's head whipped around to look at you, his pointed hand lowering and his eyebrows scrunching in confusion. “I've come to warn you, Spyro he's, he's collecting orbs and is on his way. Maybe, if you're quick you can escape. Someone's guarding the sealed gate so you can't leave that way. I'm unfamiliar with this castle but...there must be some other way out.” You slowly approached Ripto and Gulp, holding your hands out to show you meant no harm. “ I don't want him killing you two like he did Crush. He's...Spyro he's...” “He's a dragon! What do you expect?!” Ripto growled. “They're cruel, destructive, selfish, greedy, winged vermin!” He spat, stamping his foot on the floor below him, physically expressing his distaste. “You've...had run ins with other dragons before?” Curiosity welling in your mind. What sort of world had Ripto come from? Wasn't Crush a dragon? He had wings after all. Were all dragons really as heartless seeming as Spyro had been? If that was the case no wonder Ripto was so cagey and cautious. “That! That is none of your concern!” Frustration played on his face while he gritted his teeth and clenched his fists. “I'll be prepared for the menace! Gulp will make short work of that purple pest. He'll squash him like a grape! Then I'll be free to claim this land as my own!” He crossed his arms and started picking two of his claw nails together in agitation. “ May I ask, why is it you want Avalar? Don't you want to go back home?” The look Ripto shot you was a dangerous one. Anger brimmed in his eyes and his shoulders squared. “Home?! What?! You think I can't take on this miserable world? I'll give Avalar a King that they'll never disrespect. This world will bend to my whim like grass in a breeze!” A cruel smile crossed his face as he lifted his hands triumphantly. So he really was a tyrant as Elora had said. Or at least he thought he was, or he was trying to be. You didn't doubt his power as a sorcerer. Being able to keep doors sealed against even dragons magic... He still couldn't possibly be a match for Spyro though. He might be able to put up a fight but you know that Spyro was more capable, focused, and less prone to succumbing to his emotions. You weren't sure exactly what is was that caused Ripto to become so vehemently against dragons, or why he was so deeply touched by this anger and hurt of his. You did know that he wouldn't divulge something like that easily. Once Ripto finished announcing his plan, his gaze returned to you, his smile turning down to a frown and his arms lowering slightly. “You also failed to answer my question, how did you get past my barrier?!” His fists clenched as he shouted his question at you. You faltered. How could you explain your magic somehow broke through his? There was no other way and so that's simply what you answered. “I...I wanted to see you. I needed to get to you, before Spyro did. I made a door within your barrier and...I wished to see you. To save you if I could. Ripto I...I'm scared for you.” An odd look etched itself upon Ripto's face as he took in what you said. His brow furrowed and his eyes darted from you to the ground. “You broke through my magic? Not a chance!” An angry look knotted his eyebrows and he scowled at you. Then...It softened. “You're.” His shoulders softened and he looked slightly confused. “You're scared for me?” A silence grew in the room. You responded by nodding. Why was he so surprised? Gulp looked from you to Ripto and back to you again. He smiled and trudged over to you. Taking a step back you cautiously watched him as he leaned his head in by you. “Gulp! Hang on, don't eat them yet! They may prove useful unlike you chowder heads!” Gulp didn't seem interesting in consuming you. Instead he bumped his head into you slightly like a cat. You reached out and patted his head softly. He seemed to take a liking to you, standing there like some giant green reptilian dog. “What are you two doing? Get back over here you pea brain!” Crossing his arms he tapped his foot impatiently. You scritched Gulp under his chin and he gave you a soft look. “Now, Gulp!” He flung his hand down, pointing at the spot he wanted Gulp to stand. Gulp gave you a big slobbery lick then lopped back over to Ripto's side. You weren't sure if you appreciated the sentiment but felt a lot safer near Gulp now. Ripto's eyes followed Gulp on his journey back, pinched in a scowling glare. Gulp plopped his rear down on the ground beside Ripto with a hearty thud which caused Ripto to bounce a few inches in the air then drop back down, arms still crossed. From this same position Ripto's eyes darted back to you. “I'm not sure how you managed to get past my magic, but if you insist on following me around you may as well put yourself to use.” He strode over to you and pushed his face a few inches away from yours. “ Get back out there and keep that malformed bat from coming in here! Use whatever force necessary!” You nodded and then quickly shook your head. “No, I can't kill him. I don't want any blood on my hands.” Ripto stomped his foot down. “Then what use are you! Just like these buffoons following me around! If you aren't going to help me then stay out of my way! Get out of here!” His fist shot out, pointing you forcefully towards the whirlwind exit. It wasn't what you wanted to do, leave Ripto here. You very much wanted to help him get the heck out of here but you could see there would be no changing his mind. Taking slow steps you made your way back to the whirlwind. Halfway to it you turned back to the two reptilian fellows. “Ripto?” You voice softly carried over to him. He had climbed back up onto Gulp's back who was taking him over to an enormous throne on the side of the room. You hadn't noticed it there before, being caught up in warning him. It was easily too large for him, perhaps he was trying to show in his magical prowess what he lacked in physical stature. “What?! Why are you still here?” He growled as Gulp meandered up to the throne. “Please, just, whatever happens.” He climbed into the throne and glared at you. “Please be careful?” You knew he would follow through with his plans regardless of what you asked of him but you wanted some sort of reassurance. His scowl faded slightly. You couldn't quite see his face from here but it didn't appear to have it's usual anger twisted into it. Worried brows lifted slightly and his mouth opened as if to say something. He quickly jammed it shut and gripped the throne on either side of him, the scowl returning home. “...I'll be fine! Get out of here...” He turned his head away, looking down to the left as he commanded you. You didn't feel any sort of peace but couldn't think of anything else to do. You left the dungeon, descending the ladders and walking around the autumn court yard. To your right you saw Spyro darting around up in the castle, off to fight Ripto and Gulp. It would be impossible to have to bear witness to either of them being harmed. You couldn't see that again, not like Crush... You painfully waited outside the castle, hoping that Ripto and Gulp might have considered your warning and evacuated before Spyro confronted them. The minutes crawled by like years as you waited to hear something. When no one departed the castle, you decided perhaps you'd brave a peek inside. Turning to head back to the castle, you suddenly heard a scream from above. Looking up, you managed to spot the throne before it hit you. Diving out of the way, you landed in the soft grass as the throne cracked into pieces as it made forceful contact with the ground. It lie there broken and unrecognizable. This was precisely why you didn't like heights. You neared the throne to inspect it, hoping it had been vacated before its untimely destruction when Ripto landed painfully on top of you. You were knocked to the ground as the caped riptoc bounced off of you and onto the ground nearby. “Agh! Gulp! That dragon! I'm going to wring his little purple neck!” Ripto growled, flailing his arms in anger. His gaze whirled around to you, as you extracted yourself from the ground. “You!” He cried. Approaching him you extended your hand. “Here.” you offered. He pushed your hand away and stood up himself. “I don't need your useless pity!” He turned away and looked around the area desperately. “What happened to Gulp?” The words escaped your mouth, however you thought you already knew the answer. He half turned to you, sadness taking over his face. His slitted eyes darted to you then away again just as quickly. His rage melted back over his face again as he turned to you, shoulders hunched up with fists clenched at his side. “That blasted dragon happened to him! I told you to go stop him! This is all your fault!” With Gulp and Crush gone, he focused his frustrations on you. “If you had stopped him from entering my castle NONE of this would have HAPPENED!” He raised his hand as if to hit you. It swung at you but you reached up and grabbed his arm before he could land the blow. You were not an angry person by nature but you had quite enough of Ripto's temper. You looked him dead in the eyes as you gently held his arm in front of you. “You. Will. Not. Hit. Me.” He looked at you with worry in his eyes, glancing at his arm in your hand and to your face. He had seen this before. He was afraid of being hurt. Not wanting to scare him you did the only thing you knew how to do, to try to make him believe you wanted to help, to try to get him to listen instead of being so emotionally reactionary. You gently moved your other arm around him and then pulled him into a hug. It wasn't a tight hug, but it was a firm one. “I want to help you Ripto, but I will not let you strike me.” You could feel him tense up under your embrace. It was clearly a foreign thing for him. When he realized he wasn't trapped in the hug, he pushed at your chest, knocking you away from him. “Don't touch me! Or i'll! I'll...” His threat was empty. He'd lost his friends and now had no one. Except perhaps you, and of that he wasn't even sure. You were the only thing he had left you realized. A deep worry started to grow in your chest. Ripto was all bark and no bite. Relying on his now deceased friends to help him was how he managed thus far. A desperate and confused look now marked his face. He was thinking, assessing everything, taking you into his calculations now. “We'll go to Winter Tundra. Their last castle stands there. I'll make it mine and then that dragon will see that nothing stops me from getting what I deserve!” He cast a look to you. “What are you crying for?! We need to get a move on, stop being so emotional!” You almost laughed, that sentiment coming from him? It hadn't occurred to you that you had been crying. Wiping the tears from your face you shook your head. “I don't think that's going to work. Spyro would destroy you! Like Crush and Gulp...” He huffed at your suggestion. “That pest won't dare harm me! I'll make sure of it. He won't get past my guard this time.” “You mean like the barriers you put up before? The ones he broke through?” That struck a nerve. He seethed at you, a growl escaping his clenched teeth. “You don't think I can handle that dragon?!” You met his gaze, he was no longer intimidating to you. “No. I don't think you can. Not alone. Ripto, think, he'll take you down just as easily as he did your friends!” Your voiced raised a bit, though you tried to keep it steady. This guy just wouldn't listen to reason. He was so sure of himself. So desperate to prove himself. He opened his mouth several times, trying to argue with you but not coming up with a solid sentence. “If only Gulp and Crush were still here. They could protect you, and now that you know what Spyro is capable of you could be better prepared for him.” Ripto's eyes were squinted in what you thought was a pained look. Maybe he was tired, maybe he was sad. You couldn't tell. “I can't bring them back! I alone am enough! While my magic isn't enough to bring back my imbecilic servants, it is enough to take down that purple menace!” Something in your mind sparked. You felt something within yourself, being pulled to a specific place. “Wait...Bringing them back with magic.” Confused Ripto cocked his head slightly. “What? Weren't you just listening? I said I can't bring them back! CAN'T!” You nodded. “No, I know, I heard you. But the fairies here...Their wands. Something in their magic gives them the ability to save peoples souls to a certain spot in time. Do you think, is there any possibility that they were zapped at all?” Ripto's eyes widened and a grin split his face. “There's a possibility...Perhaps not fairy magic. But my own...” He scratched his chin in thought gazing up with a smile playing at the edge of him mouth. He sharply turned to you. “The barriers. When I sealed the gates in the previous castles it may have had a similar effect as those pesky fairies and their ridiculous puny wands.” You felt the fear and sorrow lessen in your chest. “However the dragon destroyed them after they entered the portal to the dungeon. Which would have negated any save spot my barrier would have offered them...” He grew frustrated again. “So, they're stuck there? Saved in a spot just before the dungeon?” He shook he head and threw his hands down in frustration. “NO! I Said they were destroyed after! The barrier would have bound them there until they entered the portal, then the portal would have marked a save point the moment they entered it. After they died, they would have woken up again at the beginning of the battle, just after entering it.” You thought a moment. “So...they're stuck in a time loop of sorts?” He froze then looked up at you, intrigue written on his face. “What...?” You sorted your thoughts out loud, slowly trying to explain. “So, barriers and fairies have their own method of saving, entering a portal too has it's own method of saving? If we could somehow enter the portal and find the save spot for Gulp and Crush, we could sneak in during the battle, intervene somehow and save them again afterwards, after Spyro thought they were dead. Then we could sneak them out of there and you could have them back by your side.” A wild toothy smile claimed Ripto's face as he reached out and grabbed you by your shoulders. He shook you eagerly. “That's it! But we'd have to use caution and time it perfectly.” He paced around, gesturing with his hands wildly as he thought his plan through. “I can't have that dragon botching this up again. I also can't be the one to do it. Imagine me seeing myself in a time loop. Two Ripto's in one area! That would give us away...But you...That dragon trusts you. I need you to enter those dungeons again, with my magic, I can probably pin point the save spot for Gulp and Crush and send you to them.” “I don't have saving magic though, I can only create doors.” You revealed, troubled. Ripto marched over to you. “Then we'll find you saving magic. There's plenty of fairies around here. One of them is bound to have an extra wand lying around that we could steal!” He glanced around the area. “Aha!” He pointed to Zoe, not too far off. “Go! Convince her to give you her wand, tell her you're borrowing it. She seems gullible enough!” You highly doubted that it would be so simple to convince Zoe to let you have her wand. But Ripto was already pushing you towards her. “Go! I'll stay here. Come back to me when you get that wand!” Oh dear... you thought to yourself, nervously shuffling over to Zoe. She seemed to be looking for something. Concern crossed her face while she scanned the area. “Hey Zoe.” You greeted her, “Uh...I hate to bother you but, I was wondering if perhaps, I could borrow your wand, I want to see if I can uh....Practice...My...Magic with it! I want to practice my magic!” She turned with a sad smile. “I'd love to let you use my wand ____, but I seemed to have misplaced it!” Oh great, you thought. Ripto would love this. “Hey Zoe! Hey____!” Hunter approached the two of you, he seemed really happy. “Hello Hunter, what's put a spring in your step?” Zoe inquired. “Oh, I was just at Dragon Shores while the Professor and Elora set up the Super Portal, He's testing a new power crystal that he thinks will enhance the orbs power!” Zoe shook her head. “What? What were you doing in Dragon Shores? I thought the super portal was inactive because of Ripto!” Hunter seized up. “Well...D'uh I mean they were testing it out and all, so I figured I'll hop on over to Dragon Shores to see what it was about! It's really fun! You play games for free! And get tokens! For free!” “What are the tokens for?” You were also curious, it did sound kind of fun. “Oh! It's lets you have access to this amazing one of a kind, Dragons Shores' movie theatre! It allows you to re watch old memories, as if you were really there! I had to be fast though, the Professor wanted me back soon so I managed to trade this really shiny stick for a couple of tokens!” Zoe exploded. “A shiny stick??? Hunter?! Did you trade my wand for a bunch of game tokens?!” Hunter looked everywhere but at Zoe. “There's...A possibility...” He fidgeted his hands together. Zoe looked as though her very glare could cut through even the strongest of magical barriers. “Uh! I'll go back and get it right away!” He made to dash off but Zoe grabbed onto his arrow quiver and held him back as he ran in place. “No way! Hunter, you are going to take ____ to Dragon Shores and THEY will retrieve my wand. Then you can give it back once you're done practising. How does that sound for a deal ____?” She cast a smile back at you. This was....actually very perfect. “Good! That sounds good! I'll meet you in Winter Tundra then Hunter?” “Yes! I'll go on ahead and explain to the Professor what uh...I ...Did....Then! Then we can go back and get Zoe's want back!” Zoe smiled impishly and released her grip on Hunter's arrow quiver. “Good!” No longer being restrained, still being propelled by his attempted escape, hunter fell flat on his face. He picked himself off the ground and awkwardly waved bye to the two of you. “I'm just gonna...” He pointed with both hands towards the warp platform and hastily made his retreat. Zoe nodded to you and flew off towards the castle. Hesitantly you returned to Ripto, unsure as to how he would take all of this. He was watching from behind one of the autumn trees. “Hrmm... power crystal eh? I do miss my sceptre so...Perhaps I'll hold onto it for them.” He chuckled. “So you heard then?” He glared at you. “Heard what?” You took a deep breath, expecting him to flare up at you. “About Zoe's wand?” “No, where is it?” He demanded, looking at your person as if he expected you to just pull it out from thin air. You braced yourself. “How would you like...To go to an amusement park?” If you were sure he wouldn't have yelled at you, you would have laughed at the bewildered look on his face.

[a-light-bulb-for-thought]

Midnight Moon

Cold wind howled menacingly, the skeletal branches shivered in the silvery light of the moon and in the distance strikingly coloured caravans surrounded a crackling fire, though slightly blurred by the faint fog. On the outskirts of London, a small crowd began to form as they trudged through the muddy field to the carnival. Women held up their dresses fearing their petticoats would get wet in the damp grass. The children’s faces were lit up in the amber glow, ignoring the calls from their parents. Hypnotic music from the carnival filtered to their ears and drew them even closer. Huge tents of red and white strips stood tall and proud before them, black smoke puffed out from the top. It mixed in with the pollution clouds from the industrial machines of London, obscuring the light from the moon. Buntings and flags shook rapidly, the wind was moving towards the tent, as if pushing the audience closer to the entrance.

Inside the tent the Ringleader sat on the front steps of his caravan, his top hat pulled low over his face, he peered at the children watching them watching him, and a slow grin came to his face. He tapped his fingernails on his pocket watch, they were right on time. With long spidery legs he stood and jumped off the porch, his tail coat flying behind him, landing right in front of them. Young sweet little children, their excited chubby faces, some still sticky with sugar. Hardly surprising when it came to the rich to spoil their youngsters with treats of deliciousness, some staining their lacy collars and trimmings with the sweet syrup from the candy apples.

The audience gazed up at their host, something about him was off putting but something else only moved them nearer. Maybe it was the charming smile that spread across his face, or the glimmer of his shiny ice blue eyes. His skin was pale and outlined his jaw and cheek bones clearly, his raven hair glazed down to his neck like a silky river. His length was tall and his width was thin, like a skeleton. His puffed sleeves hung shapelessly off his arms, his vest tightening the fabric to his chest, and an emerald cravat held it all together at the top. He tipped his hat and bowed low as the people approached.  

“Welcome one and all” he exclaimed in an elegant English enunciation, his eyes never leaving the happy children staring at him with wide innocent eyes. “And good All Hallows Eve to you Madams, Sirs and children” The men gave nervous nods while the women fluttered their eyelashes and giggled. The Ringleader glared momentarily and sneered at the sight of one of the men’s gold embroidered vest while his own was plain white. “I am at your service for this frightful and delightful evening” He waved and fell in line behind them. Gesturing with his head and hands he directed the show; people rapidly ran past, and dwarves carried things here and there. Nothing was left to chance. This was a well-oiled machine and the net was closing in…

Posters had been stuck up round the cobbled street, giving the public a week’s notice of the travelling freak show, for the one year occasion of All Hallows Eve. ‘The Midnight Moon Traveling Freak Show, curious characters with curious acts’ was their slogan, and curious characters indeed there were.

The fortune teller, enigmatic and unfathomable. Her navy dress fell to her feet, silky and slender, strapless and sleek, her arms decorated in zodiac tattoos. Gasps and mummers were heard from the women in the audience judging her on her revealing arms and corset with no bodice or flower trimmings. She sat on a candle lit stage, the smoke she wisped between her fingers; it took the shape of an ox, and then shaped into two fish swimming in concentric circles. The cold wind soared and drove out the candles, plunging the stage into darkness.

The men eagerly stared at her with no such complaints. Her exotic eyes enchanted them, her blue iridescent hair made them hot, her smile made their throats dry. She kneeled down to one man, her open hair cascading over her bare shoulders as she whispered in his ear, gliding her fingernails lightly over his jaw line and neck. A shriek was heard from his wife, she swiftly grasped his wrist and tore them apart. Flirting cancelled, they reluctantly moved on. The children lost interest in her and ran to the next attraction, all under the watchful gaze of the Ringleader. Every now and then he would glance darkly at his heavy caravan looming at the back of the carnival site.

The parents paid more attention to pulling and tugging at their children keeping them at their best rather than the freaks. “Don’t dirty your riding boots! They cost money!” “Edger, stop running you’re messing your hair!” “Maggie! You’re covering your new dress in sugar! Aunty Jean will be furious!” the icy gust pushed it way through the crowd hard and rough almost knocking the audience off their feet. A mother yelled while holding down her skirt “Oh this wind will be the death of us!”  

The Ringleader watched every move before hearing a loud sucking nose. Turning round he looked down upon a young child lapping at Edwardian Mint Rocks while she stared up delightedly at him. His smile widened as he stared back and kneeled down to her taking in every last detail. Her faded pink sweet dress, a ruffled white bonnet with a sugar white bow, and a gleaming parasol she twirled in her lace white gloves. He touched her cheek lightly, feeling the softness of her skin, and smelt her heavy mint breath. His expression was gleamingly cheerful as he titled his head.

“Hello little one” He moved his hand slowly up to her thick blond ringlets “Are you enjoying the show?” While licking the access sugar from her fingers she nodded “Would you like to stay here forever my lovely?” He asked leaning in closer to her “With me and my fellow freaks?”

“Merida get away from that horrid man!” Her mother yelled, grabbing her daughter roughly by her hand and took her from the Ringleader. He smirked to himself and ran a finger under his chin before picking up his pocket watch again. “My sincerest apologies Madam!” He called after her “I did not mean to offend” She merely huffed and stormed away with her child. Merida soon ran with her mother to a gathering crowd round the caged unfortunates.

A young man sat on the cold floor of his prison, his neck twisted awkwardly causing his head to tilt drastically to one side, his mouth wide open, a puddle of his drool had formed beside him, and onto the shoulder of his shirt. His hands were curled inwards revealing the absence of many of his fingers, the same condition had affected his toes and feet. Beside him, but in a separate cage the snake boy hissed round, slithering through the crowd allowing them to admire and stroke his colourful scales. He lashed out his forked tongue at some, causing the crowd to cry in alarm and bounce back.

A fire dancer skilfully danced round the fire, commanding and manipulating it into shapes and illusions that enveloped her, the flames licking over her exposed stomach and skin like an excited puppy. Her costume of shiny silver caught the light of the fire; she looked like a dancing flame herself. Only she wasn’t just a dancing flame, no one failed to see the other feature to her performance. Juggling fireballs and torches over eight at a time was aided by two extra arms thrusting out from the armpits. They were longer than the others with entwining bone like fingers; they could reach far behind her, catching anything she threw over her shoulders. The parents recoiled in horror at the grotesque unnatural movement of these arms. Her black wavy hair and Indian skin showed her to be the living reincarnation of Vishnu, the Hindu God with four arms, so her advertising banner claimed.

Children stared like gaping gold fish, their ice cream slowly dripping off the cone on their hands. As everyone stared enraptured, no one noticed the other freaks, slyly following the crows close behind, hiding nets and sacks discreetly behind their backs.

As the exhibits came to an end and the performers glanced at each other nervously, the dwarves handed each of the adults a drink. The children still ran tirelessly round the now dying fire, the clouds shielded the moon from the terrible things that were about to happen. The smile from the Ringleader had now disappeared and was replaced by a stony face; his eyes dared this way and that from the children, to the parents, and to the performers. Again, he glanced at his large dark caravan standing behind him, the wind once again soared in from behind, and he felt a familiar feeling.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I thank you all for coming to look upon my freaks to admire their monstrous imperfection. Indelicate as they may be they are all glad that you have come. Let us drink a toast to the wonders of the Freak Show!” he called “May you sleep well tonight” he added under his breath. With that they all raised their cups and took a sip. One of the men looked round with a frown on his face “You carni-folk not joining in with the drinks?” No one replied, and the Ringleader slowly laughed with pleasure. He rubbed his lips and chin with his fingers, staring up at the ceiling of the tent as he heard coughing and choking, and the little shrieks of children. He sighed in relief, closing his eyes and clasped his fingers together humming softly to himself.

The Ringleader sat crossed legged on the bed in his caravan, his hands in front of his mouth as if he was praying. His top hat and tailed coat hung up neatly in his closet, his ice eyes glared in admiration and wonder over his collection of porcelain dolls, the beauty of each unique face shone back at him. The delicate feature of each doll was preserved in their making, their hair was carefully combed and arranged, the clothes were smooth and little faces held the memory of the child they once were. Gracefully he tapped his fingers together to a slow rhythm “Oh my innocent ones, there can be no shame with you, no shame, you move my heart in many ways and shield me from the disgrace that is of my freakish nature” Tilting his head to one side he looked down at an unfinished doll in front of him. He placed it gently on his lap, and started to hum the tune of ‘A Ring of Roses’.

“A-tish-oo, a-tish-oo. We all fall down”

With his skilful hand he the locks of blonde hair with needle and thread and sewed it into the holes of the porcelain skull. After twisting the hair into tight ringlets he proceeded to paint her glass eyes blue, and glued them into the eye sockets and dusted her cheeks with a little blush. Measuring out the trimming perfectly he progressed to stitching a bonnet for the little doll, pink with white trimming to match her dress. After dressing the doll he held her like a baby and kisses her forehead “Little Merida” He whispered to her “Now you are here to stay with me and my fellow freaks forever” He put her on the shelf and placed in her hand her parasol. He smiled proudly, and examining her to rest of his collection of children. Reaching into the pocket of his new gold embroidered vest, though faint red stains were lurking in the lapels, he took out Edwardian Mint Rock, placed it on his tongue and smiled charmingly.

Written by A Light Bulb for Thought

[alia-turin]

The amazing @babelast drew a beautiful image of Cor (which y’all should see here) and a mermaid and asked for a short fic. Well the fic is not short and I really hope she likes it. I have been thinking about it for couple of days and the idea grew so there will be part two.

Fic Title: The Sea Maid Chapter: Part I Rating: G (some swearing and nudity) Pairing: Cor Leonis x OC (Mermaid) Other characters: Regis, Clarus, Cid, Weskham Summary: twenty-five years old Cor is determined to prove himself by finding a legendary sword.  If you feel like supporting this writer consider buying me a coffee: Ko-Fi

Tagging: @birdsandivory @jojopitcher @lazarustrashpit @yourcoolfriendwithallthecandy @themissimmortal @kairakara101 @babelast @akiza-hades-rose @ladychocoberry

If you want to be tagged on my fics (or if I have forgotten to tag you) please contact me!

“Here is the cave.” Clarus announced as if nobody else could see the cave entrance.

“You really don’t have to do it.” Regis placed his hand on Cor’s shoulder. “It’s just a sword, there are many other swords.”

It wasn’t ‘just a sword’ in Cor’s mind. Well it was, but it wasn’t. They have been on that trip, all five of them helping the kingdom fight the empire and getting themselves into all sort of trouble in the process. But ever since Gilgamesh something has been bothering him. It has been more than ten years ago, and he still felt as if he wasn’t doing enough. Gilgamesh was his heroic quest and if you ask people it was very successful, Cor had different opinion on the matter. Since that day, since Clarus pulled him out of the trails cave Cor has been trying to be better version of himself and less of a little annoying brat. But something was missing. He was doing his job at the Crownsguard, guarding the young prince, helping him in his own endeavors but he didn’t feel like he was doing something out of the ordinary. It all seemed so normal, anyone could do it but he wasn’t just anyone. He was Cor the Immortal.

“That is Leviathan’s sword, if you don’t want it, we can at least make sure the Empire never finds it.” Cor had set his mind that he would find the legendary sword of Leviathan and nothing that Regis or the others could say was going to change his mind.

“What’s with you, boy, and caves? Some unresolved childhood issues?” Cid grumbled as he was leaning against the Regalia making it obvious he disagreed with Cor’s quest.

“Remember the sword is just a legend” Weskham told him as he passed him a bag with provisions. “It is possible that you go in there and find nothing. Don’t try to find something that doesn’t exist. If it’s not there, it’s not there.”

Cor just nodded and with that walked into the cave.

The journey was not as he expected. Most of these dungeons had demons or other monsters hiding within. He was sure he would have to fight his way down, but beside few goblins there was nothing else to threaten his life.

Eventually he reached what seemed like the end of the cave. There was nothing there but rocks and a small lake that seemed to be going further in. Maybe the sword was in the lake? Maybe there was underwater gallery or even a passage that lead to the sword. Cor knew underground waters were dangerous. He could swim and he could dive, but was there another pocket of air there? What if he swam too far and there was no air, and he couldn’t go back.

His thoughts were interrupted by movement in the water. He couldn’t see well what caused it, but he could swear he noticed scales and maybe a giant tale. Maybe that was why there were no demons here, there was something bigger and more dangerous than demons. Cor pulled his sword out ready to attack even if he wasn’t sure if the creature was able to attack on land. That made his potential dive to look for the sword even more dangerous and complicated.

He saw movement again, this time he could clearly see a tail possibly like whale’s tail but in a deep green colour. He could also see some threads of gold, like fur, but longer.

“Show yourself.” Cor groaned in frustration. He wasn’t scared of whatever that creature might be, but he wasn’t a patient man and he was going to kill anything that was in his way.

The water stopped moving and went completely silent. Cor wondered if whatever he was seeing was just an illusion, spending too much time in the dark and his eyes were playing tricks on him. But he did see the green scales and that strange golden fur.

Suddenly the water moved again and Cor got his sword ready for attack. However, what came out of the water wasn’t really what he expected. It or more like she was a woman. A gorgeous woman with long golden hair that was disappearing in the water, eyes so green that they were shining in the dim light his torch was making. He relaxed his sword hand moving the sword to the side rather than pointing it at her. She cocked her head to the side studying him probably the same way he was studying here. But Cor wasn’t just studying her. He was enchanted. He wasn’t seeing anything so beautiful and so elegant. Her thin neck, her small shoulders, he could swear he could wrap just one arm around them and embrace her completely. Suddenly he realized she was naked, the water was distorting everything under her collarbones but he could clearly see her shape and curves. Cor turned his head to the side feeling embarrassed and suddenly concerned for her modesty.  

“Who are you?” she suddenly asked and he looked again towards her, the melody in her voice attracting his attention. His head was gone completely empty, he had no idea what to answer or even how. “Can you speak?” she moved a bit closer to him and Cor saw the green tail helping her swim. She was a mermaid. In his head he started running all the stories he knew about the mermaids, but it wasn’t much. Weskham or Regis, probably even Clarus would know a bit more on the subject. Cor was never much for learning and books, he just knew that they were pretty and created by Leviathan and most likely just a myth. Well clearly not a myth since there was one standing in front of him right now.

“Yes, I can.” He answered and put his sword slowly back in its sheath, she didn’t seem alarmed by the weapon, but he didn’t want to give her any cause for concern. “My name is Cor. Cor Leonis.”

“What are you doing here, Cor Leonis?” she swam closer to the edge of the lake, resting her arms on the stone. He was grateful for that; her shape was way too distracting.

“I’m looking for Leviathan’s sword.” He made a step closer to her still mindful that his actions might scare her. “Do you know where it might be?”

“Leviathan has no sword.” She pushed herself away from the edge and swam back a bit allowing her to see her whole body. Her torso was small and elegant, her tail way longer than he imagined but graceful. Her moves were playful as if she wanted him to jump in there and swim with her. Cor was curious about her, wanted to ask her so many questions about where she came from, how she lived here…but he was also attracted. He vaguely remembered sailors from Galahd talking about mermaid spell and wondered if that was it, but he didn’t mind.

“There is a legend that Leviathan forged a sword and threw it somewhere in these caves. A blade made of corals and sea metals, harder than any other blade.” Cor repeated the words exactly as Weskham had told them, he hadn’t bothered to read the book where the legend came from.

“There is no such sword, Cor Leonis.” Every time she pronounced his name he just wanted to jump in the water after her and run his fingers through her hair. He looked to the side again. That was silly, she was a mermaid, he was a human he had no business with her, it was just some weird spell than he was under. “There is, however, a sword here.”

“What sword?” he pinned his eyes on hers hoping that probably that was Leviathan’s sword, she probably just didn’t know about it.

“A sword. Many years ago, a man came here and threw it in the lake. He said the sword was given to him but he was not worthy of it. We took the sword and the man never came back.” She was cocking her head again probably studying him. If there was a man here before him, maybe he wasn’t the first man she was seeing, but then why was she so curious about him?

“Who was the man?” Cor made another step closer and knelt so he could be a bit closer to her eye level.

“His name was Gilgamesh.” She answered and smiled.

Few things happened in Cor’s mind at that moment. He was completely disarmed by that smile. If she had asked him to stab himself in the throat right now he probably would have done it. But there was something else. Jealousy and even regret. Gilgamesh had been here, he had talked to her, he had seen her. Yet another place where his immortal rival was better than him. Cor’s jaw clenched, he could feel anger boiling in his heart.

“Wait, how old are you if you were here when Gilgamesh came?” it suddenly hit him that Gilgamesh was here most likely in his mortal shape. That didn’t sound right.

“I wasn’t here.” She giggled. “Mermaids live long, but not that long. It’s just a story that is passed amongst the merfolk. We gave him the sword long time ago and he eventually returned it to us. He deemed himself unworthy hence he returned the blade. The sword has no meaning to us, I don’t know why he returned it.”

“Can I see the sword?” Cor thought that maybe the legend was true. It made sense in his mid that the mermaid might not know it was Leviathan’s sword, if it was related to Leviathan at all. Even humans didn’t remember their own history correctly and accurately, if Gilgamesh was involved in that the sword was thousands of years old.

She didn’t give him an answer but disappeared in the water. He was alone again wondering what he would do if she never came back. So, there was a sword here, there was some point into diving in the cave, but there was still the risk of getting stuck somewhere. Cor also wondered about her. Mermaids were not real or at least so he used to think. He wasn’t an impulsive man in regards to feelings and his desires, but he was happy to make an exception in this case. She was so beautiful…

Few minutes later he saw a sword appear from the water, a small hand wrapped around the sheath. The mermaid appeared shortly after, her golden hair glittering from the dim light. She was too far for him to reach the sword unless he went in the water.

“I will give you the sword, Cor Leonis, but there is a condition.” She swam closer to him, now the weapon was within his arms reach, but so was she. “I want you to kiss me.”

“Uh…” Cor stared like complete idiot at her. He wanted to kiss her. It just felt so strange. Women never came to him to ask him things like that. They were all charmed by him being Cor the Immortal, the young prodigy in the Crownsguard and that annoyed him. He felt that everyone wanted to be with him because of his name not because of who he was. Maybe some of them actually did but he was so suspicious towards their intentions. He wasn’t Clarus, he didn’t possess the charm the young shield had, nor his skill with words. Cor was straight to the point, rarely tactful and had no idea how to sugarcoat words. But here he was face to face with the most beautiful creature he had ever seen and she wanted to kiss him.

He leaned forward, his chest completely pressed against the cold stone. She was at the edge of the lake looking at him, her lips so close. Cor moved a bit closer, her wet hand touched his face and her lips pressed against hers. Heat ran through his whole body and he realized he didn’t want just to press his lips against hers. He wanted more, but was she going to allow him? He moved a hand on her face, touching her skin and slowly running is fingers in her hair. He pulled her head as close as it was physically possible to her and ran his tongue over her lips. For his surprise she opened her mouth just a bit which was enough for him to sneak his tongue inside and kiss her even deeper and more passionate. She tasted sweet and salty at the same time, he never imagined he would like combination of the two, but here he was enjoying this kiss more than any other.

As their lips parted he didn’t move, he didn’t want to move. She was still close to him, looking at him but there was some sort of confusion in her eyes.

“I’m sorry…” he said a bit sheepishly. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No…” he ran a finger over her lips, right where his tongue had touched them. “I’ve just…never kissed anyone before.” He could swear she was blushing which felt so weird. She had seemed so confident and playful, but now she seemed confused and he could feel his whole body screaming to touch her and calm her down.

“You didn’t like it?” Cor was fairly confident in his ability to kiss, he didn’t consider himself an expert, but he never got any complains about it either. “That’s not how the merfolk does it?”

“No…” she shook her head. “I actually don’t know how he merfolk does it. There is only handful of us left and all the males have been killed.”

There was sadness in her voice and he understood. The change in her demeanor had nothing to do with him. The pain in her voice wasn’t because of him. He wanted to help, not just because the sight of her was making his heart race and his groin ache, but he felt like that would be the right thing to do.

“The sword is yours, Cor.” She pulled the weapon out of the water and placed it on the cold stone. Then she turned around and was about to swim away but Co had good reflexes and caught her wrist.

“Wait.” She didn’t fight him, but he had to loosen his grip a bit. Her wrist fell so small compared to his hand and felt so fragile he was worried he might break it. “I want to see you again. Can I see you again?”

“Maybe.” She managed to wiggle her wrist free and disappeared in the water leaving him there on the stone edge.

 As he walked outside of the cave Clarus and Cid were having some argument, probably again about something pointless nobody cared about.

“Hey, look who is back, and he has a new sword!” Regis interrupted the argument and went to Cor. “Is that Leviathan’s?”

Cor just shrugged. He didn’t feel like talking about it.

“Did someone kick your ass there again, boy?” Cid asked as he pulled the sword from Cor’s hands and took it out of the sheath. “Oh, that is a pretty blade and an old one.”

“Let’s go.” Cor took the sword back and went to the car, he was ready to leave.

“Hey wait a second, kid.” Clarus ran to him and pulled him by the shoulder. “You just went in there and came back with something probably older than Insomnia itself. Tells us what happened.”

“Don’t call me kid.” Cor growled at him and opened the driver’s door. He wasn’t a kid he was twenty-five, he could take care of himself.

Clarus was about to say something else and Cor was going to jump on him if it wasn’t for Regis who placed a hand on the shield’s shoulder and just shook his head to prevent any further escalations.

In the car Cor was driving, Weskham sitting next to him, the other three at the back, Clarus and Cid having an argument about the sword’s age. Cor didn’t care, it was Gilgamesh’s sword part of him was happy he could take that from him, another part of him wanted to be back in the cave.

“Wes…” he started, trying to speak as low as possible, didn’t want any of the others to overhear him. “What do you know about mermaids?”

“Mermaids?” Weskham looked at him a bit puzzled but then did a very thoughtful ‘hmm’. “Well, not much. They are old creatures. The legend goes that Leviathan created mermaids, or sirens, to help her, serve her…basically for whatever Leviathan might need them. There are various stories about them, mostly coming from sailors. I don’t know how many of them are true. Some claim that mermaids try to lure sailors in deep sea and kill them, some say that mermaids have the ability to look like beautiful women. In fact, they are no different than fish, but their magic makes them attractive. I do not know how much of that is true, what I know is that the Empire has been hunting them for centuries now. I doubt there are many of them left. Did you see a mermaid in the cave?”

“You saw a mermaid?” Clarus pushed himself between the two front seats. “Did she give you the sword? Did she ask something in return?”

Cor just sighed and pressed the break suddenly making the shield almost fly through the windshield.

[imaginemexo]

Josh Washington x Reader - No-one’s Coming

Request: Could I get a Josh x Reader where the reader disappears with Hannah and Beth, but manages to survive in the mines

DISCLAIMER: Some events in this are different to the actual game, but only slightly, you probably won’t even notice.

Words: 3,512

I waited. For a sound. For anybody.

Day three-hundred-and-sixty-six. It's been one year.  

No-one's coming for me.

The transition was slow at first.  

No-one will ever believe me. No-one will ever believe what I saw.

Her skin slowly turned to the colour of ash. Her brown eyes drained from colour; they became cloudy. She grew taller by the day; lost weight rapidly. And then all of a sudden, it wasn't Hannah stood in front of me. It was someone else.  

She wasn't even human anymore.  

The first few months were the hardest; I'm used to it now, of course.

Beth died at the impact of our fall. Hannah and I somehow survived.  

Days soon turned darker than I ever had expected.  

It's my fault. It's my fault Hannah is this way. I turned her into that being. It was sheer selfishness that caused her to no longer be Hannah. It was the sheer selfishness that turned her into that thing.

I went exploring. I found a mere, small food supply. It could have lasted me for years if I really wanted it to. Just small amounts every other day, and I would be okay. I would survive.  

I never spoke to Hannah about it. I never dared to hint at the fact that food might be somewhere close; closer than we'd ever expected.  

I've found handfuls of evidence that people have been down here before. Photographs, helmets, diary entries. It seems plausible that this mine has been inhabited before, thus explaining the vast amount of food.  

It was nothing special; nothing gourmet. No meats, no caviar, no cans of coke. It was bottles of water (the plastic covered in grime, dust and dirt), shabby cans of plain beans and cans of fruit cocktail for nutrition. I eat every other day, sometimes less frequent than that to preserve.  

I wear two layers of clothes; the clothes I was wearing on that night, and Beth's clothes. There is a suffocating amount of guilt within me. I left her undignified; I took away her pride by leaving her lifeless body half-naked.  

When Hannah proposed that we turn to alternative methods for survival, I was shocked. There was a dilemma. It was either reveal the truth about the stash, or let my best friend engage in cannibalism against her own blood. I don't know why I let her do it.  

I think it was just the greediness; the fear and knowing that our supply would be dramatically shortened with two people feasting. Then, all of a sudden, far too soon, Hannah was no longer Hannah. And it was sheer luck that I made it out alive.  

Every night before I go to sleep, wrapped up in a thermal blanket I found with the supply of food, I pray. I pray for a blinding white noise; anything to get my mind off of how life is now. I pray I'll be found; I pray I will be reunited with my family and friends one day soon.

I can only hope I won't die before then.

SIXTEEN HOURS UNTIL DAWN

I prepare myself breakfast; fruit cocktail swimming in its own juices and chilled water. It's nothing different from usual, but if I pretend it is, there's some form of satisfaction in it.  

After breakfast, like a routine day, it's time to go exploring once more. I go exploring for a way out. I go exploring for a way out; a way home; a way back to the cabin; a way back to my family; a way back to my friends; a way back to my old life I left behind.  

I've looked everywhere. All routes, all methods, all secret passage ways and there's nothing. Just dead-ends. Though, there must be an exit somewhere or I could have never got down here. That’s the only thing that keeps me going; the fact that there must be a way out.  

Josh’s POV

FOUR HOURS UNTIL DAWN

It was a joke.  

It wasn't supposed to be this way.  

I was teaching them a lesson. It wasn't supposed to be malicious.  

It was to remind them. To remind them who caused them to leave me.  

My sisters. My best friend. I lost them all.  

There's no way I will ever see them again.  

Frère Jacques. Frère Jacques.

On repeat. Inside of my head on a loop.

Dolls. China dolls.  

Rocking back and forth, singing, chanting, taunting me.  

You killed us! You killed us, Josh!

Everything seems to crumble around me. My whole entire world I created. A lie I am living.

They're screaming at me, as if they actually believe I am the person in the wrong. Their eyes judge me harshly, and for a moment, I believe it. I believe that I am the person who did them wrong; I am the person to blame.  

Dr. Hill, an all too familiar face, a critical and disapproving being, wanders out from the shadows. His eyes are the colour of coal, cheeks stained with blood. My heartrate elevates to a point that for a second, I wonder if my heart will explode.

"Josh, Josh," he says, voice unable to hide the disappointment. "Look what you've done, Josh. You've ruined everything."

I have.

"Do you really think they'll forgive you for this?"

"I don't care," I lie, words spilling from my lips so easily. "I don't care!"

What is there to lose? None of it matters anyway.

Before I even realise it, the world becomes too heavy. The fear, the panic becoming too much to bare. I collapse to my knees, the repeated French childhood song getting louder and louder with each verse. Their voices becoming deeper and deeper, lower and lower with each word.  

I curl up into a ball, tucking my head into my chest.  

I feel so small; so vulnerable.

"Joshie," a voice so calm and close calls out. "Open your eyes."  

I shake my head violently. "Go away! You're not real!"

"Josh, it's me," Her voice still plush and soft like silk. "I'm real. I'm here."  

I take a stab in the dark. I hope and pray that this time it is for real, and it's not just my head playing tricks on me.  

I open my eyes.  

Before me, I find my best friend.

EIGHT HOURS UNTIL DAWN

The sky has fallen to the colour of nothing; no stars in sight; not even a big white ball that would be considered as the moon. For all three-hundred-and-sixty-six days I have been gone from my family, each night, the sky has been empty. No moon, no stars. Nothing. Just empty. Just darkness.  

By now, I would have turned back and returned to my camp. Although, there is an unsettling feeling in the pit of my stomach. A gnawing, a convincing belief that things will be okay; that tonight is the night.  

I've passed familiar spots, and I know I've been here before because I've marked my territory with objects and carvings to remind myself that this is not somewhere new. Although, there have been new discoveries. Places I have never found, locations I have not yet seen.  

My hands have grown hot, sweaty and shaky. I am holding a torch; the light source being a blazing ball of scorching fire.  

I cautiously walk through a chasm; damp and silent. The walls are grey, made from stone, and with any amount of pressure or force, it will seemingly collapse. I can hear drops of pure water drip and drop; each sound echoing throughout the cave.

My heart is in my stomach. The fear and terror is agonising. It is suffocating.

"Come on," I tell myself. "Just a little further."  

Out of the blue, a deep cackle disguised as a cry emits followed by a deafening sound of something bursting. My heart drops even lower, and I cannot breathe for a mere moment.

Ahead, a bigger, brighter light source draws closer. A hot, red, orange fire.  

I freeze.

I'm frozen.

"Help me!" A feminine voice cries.  

I don't move a muscle.  

Metres in front of me, a short, beefy man approaches, yet doesn't seem to notice my presence. He is carrying a large, intimidating contraption. Fire seems to shoot out of the end of it, coming out in thick bursts of flames.

My body is soon overwhelmed with the horror and distress. I don't know what to do.

Out of nowhere, I feel a strong grasp on my wrist. My entire body jolts, and I am no longer in sight of the stranger, but in an enclosed space.  

There's a figure resisting me, and I push them away from me with my spare hand. I shine the torch into their face, and I am immediately overridden with shock and fierce joy and relief.

"Is it really you?" I ask, jaw slightly ajar.

Emily looks at me passively, eyes cold. "Am I supposed to know who you are?"

My eyes are brimming with tears. "Em, it's me. It's Y/N."  

That's when the realisation kicks in. "Oh my god," she whispers, attacking me with a hug. "I can't believe you're still alive."  

I start to cry. "I know. I tried so hard to get back to you."  

She finally pulls away, frowning. "We all thought you were dead," She wipes away her tears. "How are you still alive?"

I look away, face scrunched up with pain and trauma. "Selfishness is why I'm here," I tell her. "It cost someone else's life to keep me alive."  

Emily let out a small sob. I think it's the panic. "What do you mean?"

I hear the man with the fire contraption draw closer, his feet slamming against the metal grate bridge. I feel myself feel tense; I feel the urge to run away and hide, but I want to embrace the moment while we rejoice.

"Hannah and Beth are dead, Em."  

She wiped away her tears with the sleeve of her leather jacket. "I never thought that they would be the ones to survive."  

I ask a hot question that is playing on my mind. "Why are you down here? How did you find me?"

Em presses her hand firmly against the stone wall, trying to steady herself. Whatever she has seen, whatever she has felt, it has resonated with her. It has hurt her, and it is going to kill her. "Matt is dead," She says. "There's a psycho on the mountain."

I open my mouth to respond with meaningless words, but I am quickly interrupted.  

"There is no psycho on this mountain," A deep, scratchy voice replies. We jump in unison, letting out a squeal of fright. "The thing that is terrorising your friends is the one who owns this mountain. And that is the Wendigo."  

I take a step back, just one step further and I stand behind Emily.  

Rather her than me; I've worked so hard to get home.

"The Wendi-what?"

The stranger grumbles under his breath, revealing a set of milky eyes and rotten teeth. "The Wendigo," he answers. "You girls better get back, because if the Wendigo finds you, that's it. The Wendigo has you now."  

Em makes a sound of helplessness and vulnerability. She puts her hand behind her back and latches onto my hand. She squeezes it hard for reassurance.

"We don't know how to get back."

A piercing, shrill cry is heard. It seems distant.

"Up the cave, don't take any turns. Just keep moving forward and you'll find your way back, I promise."

TWO HOURS UNTIL DAWN

Josh’s POV

She lays down beside me, her soft hair covered in white specs of dust and snow. She looks exhausted; her skin is pale, the colour of ash. She closes her eyes, and presses her gentle hand against my face.

The music has stopped. The world has gone silent.

"Where have you been?" I ask in a voice that almost doesn't sound like mine.

"I've been waiting for you. I've been waiting for you to come back to me."  

I gulp down, and look at her more attentively. She's wearing a decaying crown on her head. It is made out of lilac and dusty pink roses, the petals brown and gooey with rot.  

"I never left you," I tell her. "You and my sisters lived in my heart every day since."  

She shuffles closer without opening her eyes. She lays a soft kiss upon my forehead, cradling me like a baby. "I know. You never left mine either."  

I frown, my head pressed against her collarbone. I breathe heavily, feeling my warm breath bounce from her skin and back onto my face. "Will we make it out alive?"  

Her fingers comb through my hair. "I don't know, Joshie," She whispers. "I cannot predict the future. I'm not sure about me – I don't think I'll ever be able to leave this mountain, but I know you can."  

I shake my head. "I can't. I'm stuck here. I can't ever leave this place knowing that I can't have you and my sisters back."  

She fires back with a response almost instantaneously. "Life is about moving on; life is about accepting the hard truths and forgiving the way life works. Life is about understanding and acceptance."  

I let her cradle me tighter. "If I'm going, you're coming too."  

I can feel the sadness deep inside of her chest. "No, Josh. I have to stay here. I can't leave."

THREE HOURS UNTIL DAWN

Despite everything, despite the dread, despite the anxiety, I am excited. The idea of going home is pulsating inside of me. The concept of going home to find my family, and find my friends, and return to school, and return to a real, balanced diet is beyond anything I could have ever wanted. No matter what is awaiting us on the mountain, I will make it out alive. I will do anything, everything, to leave this mountain in one piece.

I walk with a spring to my step. I walk with a sense of invincibility.  

"I don't understand how you're so happy," Emily says. "We could die tonight."

I shake my head violently. "No, we won't. I have waited one year, one painful, lonely, terrifying year to go home. I have waited so long to find you, I have tried everything in my power to find a way out. John fuckin' Cena could be up there, and I would fight and fight until there is nothing left in me if that meant I could go home. I am not giving up for anyone."

Do you know what I'm most excited for?

Well, that's just it. I don't know what I'm most excited for.  

I'm excited for it all.  

I'm excited for a real meal; something unhealthy. Maybe some chicken nuggets, ice-cream with crushed Oreos sprinkled over the top (even though I despise Oreos). Just anything that could cause me a heart attack if eaten in excessive amounts.  

I'm excited to return home and find my mother and father. To have them feel a sense of relief that I'm home; the fact that they'll never take my presence for granted. A sense of thankfulness that I am home and safe.  

I'm excited to see the rest of my friends; see how they're different. I wonder how things will be different. Will they even want me in their lives? What if we're all so different that we can't stand each other?

I'm excited to go back to school. I never thought I'd say that. When you're gone for a year, your mind begins to fry. It loses all important knowledge. I have trouble remembering basic things, like birthdays, because I couldn't exercise my brain out here.  

Life is good. Life is kind.

Eventually, we find an area that felt familiar in my heart. Trees, trees and trees for miles on end. And in the distance, a cabin lays solo illuminated with yellow lights.  

I'm home.  

I made it.

I throw my torch down onto the snow. The fire extinguishes, sizzling out lifelessly. I sprint ahead, leaving Emily behind, approaching the cabin frantically. I am delirious with zest.  

My heart is pounding; it's about to shatter my ribcage.  

I fly up the porch stairs, barging open the front door without even knocking. It was not locked, which is surprising, because in a time of uncertainty like this, I would have bolted it shut.  

My abrupt arrival seems to shock my group of friends. They turn towards me, and they seem...horrified to see me. Horrified to see me alive and healthy, alive and breathing.  

They don't say anything. They seem slightly happy amidst of everything else going on.

I scan the group. Sam. Ashley. Chris. Mike.  

A lot of them seem to be missing; Jess, Matt (who I now remember is supposedly gone), Emily who is trailing behind, and most importantly, Josh.  

Josh is not here.

That's the only thing I can bring myself to even mention: "Where is Josh?"

Mike scratches at his bloody forehead, "We lost him."  

SEVEN MONTHS LATER

I wake up to the same bland ceiling, to the same bland bedroom. Each morning I wake up, there is a sense of gratefulness. My room is still decorated the way it was when I found it; you know, when I came home after being missing for a year. Decorated in sparkly welcome home banners, humongous teddy bears stuffed into the corners of my room.  

I toss onto my side, and find a tray upon my bedside table. A glass of orange juice with the pulp floating on the surface, just the way I like it, a side bowl full of scrambled eggs coated in salt and black pepper, and a wad of fluffy, buttermilk pancakes, bathing in maple syrup – just the way I like it.

Needless to say, while I've been home, I've gained all of the weight that I lost while I was missing. 

Though, it seems to be that my father has forgotten the most important thing: cutlery.  

I flip off the covers from my body, and waddle downstairs. I take it slow, like I do most mornings, admiring everything in my life once more. I never did that enough while I was safe and sound, but now, that's all I ever do...admire and thank.  

I watch all of the framed photographs.  

One from seven months ago, where I stood with my friends, all of us wrapped up in khaki blankets under police custody. The day I came home, the day I was found.  

And the rest consist of group family photos at special events, like weddings, christenings and birthdays, etcetera. However, the last one, hanging by the first step of the staircase, is a childhood photo of Josh and I. I was wearing a cute, little baby blue dress covered in polka-dots, and my feet enveloped in embarrassing, clashing trainers. Josh was mid-giggle; he looked happy. For a small period of his life, Josh Washington was actually happy.

I wonder if he's still out there. I wonder if he's alive.  

My eyes attach to the front door, and I find a bunch of letters scattered on the floor.  

I bend down and search through them; all addressed to my mother and father. All except for one. A brown envelope. Addressed to me.

I snatch it up from the ground, steal a knife and fork from the kitchen, and race back upstairs.  

I crawl back into bed, kicking the blankets underneath myself.  

I rip open the envelope, and unfold a piece of plain white paper, to find a handwritten letter.  

Y/N,

We have taken the time to write you this letter to tell you that we have found Josh. He was suffering with a severe virus in the mines of our mountain. He's been in the hospital for a few weeks, but he eventually passed away a few nights ago. The virus killed him.

We want to thank you for the unconditional love and respect you showed our son in his time of need. Years before this incident before us, you looked after our son and never wanted to hurt him. You did everything in his best interest.  

As his parents, we feel that it is our duty to tell you how much our son loved you. We'll never be sure in what way he loved you; whether it was platonic or romantic, but we know that he wanted you in his life for ever and ever.  

When you disappeared with our daughters, it affected Josh deeply. He underwent mass treatments in psychiatric hospitals to no avail, and he always believed that you would make it out alive. He had a constant gut feeling.  

Just know our son is looking down on you, sending you love and light always.  

We wish you well in your future endeavours, and we will ensure this with a gift from our son.

Yours faithfully,

Bob and Melinda Washington

And attached with the letter lays a cheque with a vast amount of money prescribed, because Josh Washington always knew how much my family needed it.

[toevenexist]

The Darkening Pt. 13

So here is the illusive next chapter of The darkening! I’ve had it slowly in the works since i posted chapter 12, sorry for taking so long. I really hope it lives up to any expectations!!! 

Reviews and reblogs are very very much appreciated! 

Masterpost

Enjoy xxx

The block was dark and still, only even breathing, and sleepy murmurs filled the air. Amelia twisted in her sleep, stirring slightly as she tried to get comfortable, she always used to sleep on her front, but it had been weeks since she been able to comfortably do that. She curled up on her side, her knees and forehead coming into gentle contact with Owen’s side. In his sleep he moved his hand to the top of her back and eased it up and down, inciting a satisfied sigh.

Alex stirred from sleep in his bed. He opened his eyes and gazed up at the ceiling, there was no light seeping from anywhere, soft coloured clouds flickered in his eyes vision. He sighed, bringing his hands up to rearrange his solitary pillow, he’d given Amelia his other one, along with Owen providing one of his, as she’d been having trouble sleeping. 

He huffed and sat up, rubbing his face, he brought his knees up, leaning on them heavily. He heard Arizona mumble something in her sleep next door. The only other sound that hung in the air was Richard’s soft, yet unimposing, snore.

 He closed his eyes and sat still, trying to decipher if he’d fall asleep anytime soon. “Nope” he whispered, standing up and stretching his arms out to his sides. He edged his door open, and crept along the hall, noticing a warm glow coming from the kitchen.

Megan sat at the kitchen table, leaning over a glass of water, one of her hands rest against her forehead, fingertips within her hair. She heard Alex and looked up slowly, smiling tiredly. “Hey”

“Hey” Alex spanned her and put a pan of water on boil, so not to wake the others with the kettle. “What time is it?” Alex asked as he took a mug, and then another one from the cupboard.

“Four” she said, sighing, leaning back in her chair, “Did I wake you?”

“No… I’ve been drifting in and out all night” he replied, turning against the kitchen surface and leaning there, letting his eyes wander to the window, past the reflection of the inside, out to the quiet indigo skies. The silence was rushing, a single bird chirped intermittently.

“You often have trouble sleeping?” Alex spoke huskily, gravel rattling in his throat. Megan met his eyes and held his gaze, she nodded, fear twinkling in her eyes. “My dreams aren’t somewhere you would want to be” she uttered softly.  Alex poured water into the mugs and dropped tea bags into them.

Alex settled across from her at the table and sat the mugs between them. He leant forward and slid the glass away from her, pushing the mug beneath her downcast face. She remained stooped, he moved his hand firmly towards her and wrapped it carefully around her forearm. He expected her to flinch, but she didn’t, she just looked up.

“If you ever want to talk, if you just need someone… an ear… I’m always here” he said, squeezing her arm. She smiled, nodding slightly. “Its nice to have someone to sit with” she found his eyes again, and rested there.

They sat in silence, swimming in their own thoughts. The bird stopped chirping outside, the world seemed to take a breath and for a moment, the silence was deafening. Alex set down his cup and sat up straight, gazing sidelong at the window. He opened his mouth to speak when a siren began to boom outside. “What the hell?” Alex yelled as the siren rang loud. Arizona flailed out from her room, Richard ambled from his.

Owen and Amelia had jumped awake at the sound. Owen shot up to sitting, wide eyes diving out the window. Amelia grappled at his side, pulling herself up.

 “What…” Amelia whispered. Their door burst open and Ray came sprinting in, Ellis, crying, in her arms. 

 “Melia” Ray whimpered, shuffling onto the bed beside her, falling into her arms. Owen leapt from the bed.

 “Leave the light off” he said, his deep voice cut through the light hiccuping of Ellis. He closed the curtain. 

“Owen, Owen…” Amelia called after him, feeling an internal shudder in her inhalation. He stopped, turning back to her at the door, seeing her there, frightened, with Ray and Ellis curled around her swollen middle, tethered him back, grounded him. 

“Come on, let’s go into the living room” He said, moving back to her and taking hold of her, and Ray’s hands.  

They were met by a quiet chaos in the living room, A rattling sound overlaid the siren. They had found that all the windows had pull down shutters so everyone was pulling them down rapidly.

 “Come here dear” Evelyn called to Ray, reaching out her arms. Ray padded over quickly, tearfully leaning into her embrace. Once all the shutters were down everyone fell silent.

Amelia crouched unsteadily by the undersink cupboard, rummaging for more candles, she found a torch and a bag of tea lights. Owen appeared at her side and took the bag shakily from her fumbling hands. “It’s okay” he said, running a hand down her back. She nodded, swallowing hard, remaining beside the kitchen counter as the rest of the group moved toward the lounge.

The sirens suddenly stopped, and the phone rang, making everyone jump. Arizona paused beside it looking around at the group. She picked it up and listened. “It’s an automated message” she said, pushing the loudspeaker button.

“There has been a breach of the perimeter, please put the shutters down on all windows, lock the doors and remain indoors until further notice” it said before starting again. Arizona gently put down the receiver.

 Ray started to cry, burrowing further into Evelyn’s embrace. All eyes jutted around the room, mouths agape. The silence gave way to the rhythmic crunch of boots in gravel outside.

 “It’s okay Ray” Megan sat down beside Evelyn and Ray, “You hear that?” she said, pointing her index finger up. Ray nodded, still crying, “That’s soldiers, you see… one bad guy probably climbed the first fence, and there are like five fences… lots of soldiers against one bad guy.” Ray had quietened, and smiled a little, though her cheeks were red and glistening. 

 Arizona and Alex disappeared down the hall, locking the door and pulling all the shutters down in the bedrooms. The footsteps thumped into nothing as the soldiers got further away.   Ellis sat on the floor, oblivious, pressing Lego blocks together. Ray slowly crept down beside her, tentatively picking up to pieces.

Owen watched them, his mind elsewhere. He suddenly realised Amelia’s absence from the circle, and turned, finding her leaning at the counter, soothing her hand over her bump, eyes downcast. She was breathing lengthily. 

Worry overwhelmed him in a wave and he strode to her, “Amelia?” He said, his tone attracting the attention of the adults in the room. Amelia hummed, shaking her head, still looking down. “What’s wrong?” He ran his eyes over her, searching for any indication. 

“It’s okay” She breathed, pressing the underside of her stomach.

 “Amelia…” he moved in front of her, placing a hand on her shoulder, she looked up. “What is it?” Owen asked her. She inhaled deeply.

“I… I feel a little weird, the… the baby won’t stop kicking” she uttered, letting go of the counter and gripping Owens arm instead. Her weighty lean worried him further.

“Amelia?…” Arizona called as she crossed the room, she pulled out a chair from the kitchen table and brought to to where Amelia stood. “Sit down” she muttered, guiding her down to sit. “What is it Amelia?” Arizona asked her, switching places with Owen.

“She said, she feels weird and the baby is kicking a lot” Owen said, he pressed his hand to her stomach, just beside hers, feeling the flicker of movement.

 “Weird how?” Arizona probed, carrying her med bag from the other side of the room.

 “You don’t need to fuss, I’m sure it’s nothing” Amelia said, shaking her head, moving to stand up. Arizona and Owen both stopped her, and she sighed, closing her eyes. “Has Nina said anything about your blood pressure?” Arizona said, sliding her blood pressure cuff up Amelia’s arm. 

“Low” both Owen and Amelia said at the same time.

The sound of an automatic weapon pierced the air, echoing from a distance. Amelia jumped, gasping, and then wincing when the baby reacted with a sharp sequence of kicks. Evelyn appeared in front of her. “Can I get you anything Amelia? Some water?”

Amelia shook her head, but Owen turned and nodded. 

“Okay… your bp is low, do you feel dizzy, lightheaded?” Arizona said, as she pulled off the cuff.

“Some” Amelia replied. Evelyn passed Owen a glass of water. He handed it to Amelia and she held it dismissively atop her stomach.

“I think it must have been the stress of the wake up that dropped your BP and got the little one going” Arizona said, perching on the kitchen table. Amelia took a sip of the water, placing it back on the counter. Arizona pursed her lips, meeting Owen eyes. “Amelia, drink some more, it’ll bring you blood pressure back up” Owen said, handing the glass back to her. 

She sighed, taking it. She drank half, and met Owen’s gaze, pouted and then drank the rest. 

Evelyn reappeared before them, wearing a warm smile, illuminated by the candlelight. “I’ve set up the arm chair with your pillows, why don’t you come and put your feet up?” she said sweetly. Owen turned back to his wife, hoping she’d go quietly. The healthier she’d got after the incident with Ray’s parents, the more reluctant she was to rest. Amelia caught the hope in Owen’s eyes and swallowed any defiance, “okay” she whispered, setting her glass on the counter. Arizona and Evelyn noticed Owens relief as he stood, glancing at the both of them.

He felt sick as he pulled her up. He walked with her, she leaned into his side and set down into the cocoon that Evelyn had set up, groaning softly as she sank back. Owen moved the footstool closer and lifted each woolen sock clad foot onto it. 

He paused, standing before her, hair aflame in the yellow glow of the candles. She looked up to him, hands rubbing wide circles at the sides of her stomach. He held his breath, trying to keep his cool. 

“You’re okay?” he said, hands coming to rest on his hips.  Evelyn watched her son from a distance, at the way his stress and worry coursed through his body. 

“I’m okay” Amelia replied, reaching out her hand. He moved to her, taking her hand, sitting on the footstool beside her feet.  He held her hand up to his lips, pressing a kisses to her knuckles. The room fell silent again, the thump of boots filling the air.

“That must be them coming back” Megan stated, hugging her legs to her chest.

Owen stood, “I’ll be right back” he said, nodding down at Amelia. Evelyn watched as he left, moving to follow him when the phone’s ring broke the silence.  The sound made everyone jump, Richard chuckled, fracturing the tension. 

Megan picked the phone up, lifting it to her ear. She sank with apparent relief, eyes flicking up. “Listen…” she said, putting it on loud speaker.

“The base is secure, there is no further reason for alarm. Have a nice day” it said, almost cheery, the message ran on a loop. The room let out an audible sigh. Off to the side Alex unhooked one of the shutters and slowly inched it up, orange light poured in through the widening space, quickly rendering the the candles less necessary. 

Amelia closed her eyes, soothed by the calm, and by the assurance of safety. The adrenaline high that had pulled her from her bed had disappeared, sending her swiftly into the arms of sleep.

“Owen?… it me…mom” Evelyn edged open his bedroom door. She found him sat at the edge of the bed, head in his hands, his breathing was rapid. She moved quickly into the room, closing the door quietly behind her.

“Owen? What’s wrong sweetie?” she said, sitting beside him. He sniffled, quickly rubbing his face. He shook his head. “Is it Amelia? Because she’s okay, she fallen asleep in the arm chair…The phone rang, the base is secure, so… we’re safe” she said, settling her hand at the top of his back, rubbing up and down. 

He shook his head again, gasping, trying to regain his composure. “I…” he said, panting.

“Breath Owen… that’s it” Evelyn said. He breathed consciously, sitting up straight.

“I’m so scared for Amelia… for the baby… I… love her, and I… love our baby… so much” he lost his words again, stooping into his hands. He shook his head. Evelyn pouted sadly, sighing.

“Oh honey, I know…”

“I don’t know how to protect them” he said, his voice rasping and breaking. He collapsed into his hands.”Owen, listen to me… there’s nothing more you can do. Just look after her, tell her you’re scared… Owen…” she said, leaning, trying to catch her son’s eyes. “Owen Hunt, look your mother in the eyes” she said, smiling a little. He  turned his head, looking at her before sitting up, breathing in deep. “Your best is enough…” she said firmly, eyes drilling into his. “It’s going to be hard Owen and stressful, but remember you’re not on your own, talk to Amelia, she knows you’re not indestructible, let her be there for you. And you have me, you sister, and everyone else… Okay?” she said, nodding.

Owen pursed his lips, swallowing hard, nodding.

“Alright, take a deep breath, and go get Amelia to bed, both of you get some more sleep” Evelyn said, standing, ruffling her son’s hair. 

He looked so young in that moment, rosy cheeked and puffy eyed, she smiled, shaking her head, astonished that her baby boy was going to be a dad. A soft knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. It popped open, revealing a bedraggled Amelia.

 Evelyn hurried to the door immediately, pulling it open, “my dear, come in” she said, taking the pillows from Amelia’s arms and walking them to her bed, Owen rose too, taking Amelia’s hand. She looked up at him, face twisting with worry. “O have you be crying?” she said quietly, letting him sit her down. Evelyn left the room without another word.

Owen fussed around her, arranging her pillows, somewhat manhandling her into a comfortable position. She sighed when she was finally in position, looking up to him, concerned.

 “Owen?” she begged, taking his hand, pulling him to bed. He sat against the wall beside her. She lay on her right side, looking up. 

She took his hand, placing it against her quiet bump. “I love you… and this baby”  he began, Amelia simply nodded, sensing there was more.

 Light poured in through the window, embracing the couple. “I’m struggling Amelia…” he pressed his lips, frowning. She held his hand, squeezing.

“I’m scared all the time… I want to keep you both safe” he said, tearful eyes quivering from her face to her stomach before diving out the window. Amelia inhaled, nodding softly.

 “Owen we’re all safe… I can’t… promise that everything will be fine but… we just have to try our best. And I’m sure that’s enough… I’m sure of it” she spoke with finality, finding a confidence she didn’t realise was inside her. Owen eyed her, the tired smile he found pulled a smile from his lips too. She nodded, a question, and he nodded in reply, sinking down under the covers beside her.

 She pulled him desperately close to her, allowing him to curl under her chin, arms comfortingly weighty around her middle.  She dropped a kiss to the top of his head, inhaling the sweet musk of his hair. “I love you too” she whispered, she felt  Owens lips press against her sternum, his breath tickled her delectably, drawing her eyes closed. Their baby nudged against Owen’s embrace, causing Amelia’ breath to hitch.“Good morning baby” Owen sang, idly stroking the expanse of Amelia’s lower back.

Link to next chapter

Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think xxx

[allonsysilvertongue]

Wiping History

“What will happen when we get to your arena?” she demanded. “I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it.“ 75 arenas and one colossal task for Effie Trinket. Hayffie. Post-MJ. Previously.

12. Johanna’s Troubles

The door was unlocked which made Effie pursed her lips in annoyance. Anyone could have walked in here and while she did not have that many valuable things to be worth any thieving, she still wished Johanna was more careful.

"You think they're still in there?"

"I hope he is not," Effie muttered as she led Haymitch in.

She had been adamant about returning home to have a change of clothes. She refused to go through a day at work in yesterday's clothes and she was not about to wear any of Haymitch's clothes to office either. Times might have changed but she still considered dressing to perfection a priority.

Since he happened to already be awake, they decided to leave together, making a pit stop at her apartment before heading off.

Effie eyed the floor in disdain, picking up Johanna's bra and left boot before setting it down on a chair, all the while shaking her head as Haymitch watched on in amusement.

"Think you missed out her panties," he chuckled.

She wrinkled her nose but since it was partially hidden – likely, kicked away during their tryst – Effie made a mental note to inform Johanna to take care of it. She turned and yelped, feeling rough hands holding her upright.

It was only then that she began to feel the warmth of naked skin on her and something unpleasant poking her in the stomach. She shuddered, refusing to let her mind think about what it was. Effie looked up, staring straight at a pair of brown eyes.

They're the wrong colour, she thought briefly, before she felt herself ripped away from the stranger.

"Don't fuckin' touch her," Haymitch growled, pushing her protectively behind him.

"Sorry, man," the stranger put both hands up in an amicable gesture.

The man, Effie noticed once she managed to get Haymitch from blocking her view, was stark naked and he was standing there in her living room. Her gaze strayed downwards unwittingly. Haymitch, who was looking at her, noticed it too and he scowled.

"Put on some fucking clothes," he snarled. "There's a lady here, have some respect."

She really couldn't help the small chuckles that escaped. Here he was, Haymitch Abernathy, constantly trying to protect her honour even when she didn't ask him to, even when she was capable of handling the situation herself. She wondered if Haymitch realised that in a way, he was selfish. He had no problem walking around naked when it was only them in the Penthouse during the Games but when another man did it, it made him see red.

"Uh, I was just... gonna get my clothes when I bumped into you. Sorry, miss, didn't mean to scare you.  I'll be out of your hair," he explained, grabbing his boxer tossed on the armchair in a hurry. "She's still sleeping but she said something about - "

The man turned just then and Effie saw the scratch marks on his back. Naturally, her mind wandered to the things Johanna had done with him and she wished she could reel back her thoughts.

" - going for drinks tonight? I didn't get her number.... or her name but I recognised her, the infamous Johanna Mason."

Haymitch raised a dubious eyebrow, looking at him from head to toe. Effie laid a hand on his arm to stay him. She had no idea what was going on with Johanna but Effie doubted she really planned for drinks with this stranger and she particularly did not like the way he referred to her as the infamous Johanna Mason.

"I think it will be best if you leave now," Effie told him. Turning towards Haymitch, she lowered her voice and asked, "Will you make sure he leaves? I should wake Johanna up before we all run late."

Johanna was sleeping on her stomach, naked in all her glory. Her eyes roamed the younger woman's body, noting the numerous scars, knowing very well that she could recount how Johanna sustained that scar running from her shoulder blade to her left rib or that jagged scar near her hip bone or the one at the base of her neck from when they shaved her hair and nicked her skin.

Effie called her name softly, repeatedly, until her voice broke into the haze of her dream. The young woman jolted into a sitting position, her eyes darting wildly until it stopped on Effie. She visibly relaxed.

"Not late," she mumbled, pointing to the clock.

"That is because I am here to ensure that you are not," Effie plastered a smile, trying not to cringe at the state of her guestroom. "Now, big, big day today, so please, do get ready. Haymitch is taking care of your... other problem."

Johanna made no mention of the man nor did she show any interest in him so Effie supposed, they made the right call to send him off despite his claim of further dates tonight.

They made it to the Parliament in good time, no thanks to Johanna who clearly took her time until Effie's continuous sighs irritated her. Once Effie gave her a map of Finnick's arena, Johanna was much more subdued than her normal self, only breaking her silence once they were in the hovercraft.

"He was my best friend – didn't get it through his thick head that I didn't want his friendship but I'm glad he was stubborn," she spoke so quietly Effie had to strain her ears to pick it up against the roar of the hovercraft's engine as it took off. "Haymitch had Chaff, I had him. I didn't need it but he shielded me whenever he could. Take on anyone who's interested in me even after Snow's got no one left I love to hurt me with."

Johanna was completely oblivious to the look Effie exchanged with Haymitch over her head. Finnick's calm had always been a gracious complement to Johanna's temper. That was not something Effie was oblivious to but there were certain aspect of their friendship that she was not aware of, and clearly, neither did Haymitch.

"Should have been there," she crossed her arms and stared out of the window. "Would have protected his fuckin' ass if Thirteen had cleared me for the damn star squad. It might have turned out differently for him and Annie."

"We don't know that," Haymitch objected, sitting across from her. "It is the way it is, kid. We gotta live with it. You think I don't want Chaff here? Or Mags? They deserve to be in this world – they fought for it just as much."

Like Haymitch had done with Mags' arena, Johanna torched Finnick's. She took the trident he used to win his Games with her but let everything in there burn to the ground. Neither Effie nor Haymitch asked what she planned to do with that trident Mags had the sponsors gifted him with but Effie hoped Johanna wasn't planning on giving it to little Finn when he grew up. It felt wrong somehow.

Since Johanna was there, Effie moved Annie's and Johanna's arena forward in her schedule so there would be no need for her to make multiple trips to the Capitol.

Annie's arena took quite longer than normal. A portion of the place had been turned into a water park from the earthquake that broke the damn which meant that the water had to be vacuumed out before the explosives could be put in place.

Effie watched Johanna and Haymitch as they took in the sight of the three colourful looping giant slides, the huge bucket that would collect water and upend at a specific time on joyous Capitol children, and the long stream of lazy river where people would float on their buoy as it took them downstream.

There was also a 'hot spring' at the base of the volcano. Since nothing in here was natural, it was simply a gigantic jacuzzi but Capitols were very good at playing pretend as it happened. A large pool had been carved out just south of the lazy river, something Effie thought Finnick would have appreciate if it wasn't actually in Annie's arena.

Haymitch had somehow resigned himself to the oddity that the arenas had been turned to and had nothing to say. Johanna peered over the edge into the river and wondered, "so if someone pees in there, it means you Capitols will be swimming around in it."

"Who is doing the honour?" Baron asked, saving Effie from delving further into that horrific thought.

He approached the trio, detonator in hand. The arena was ready to be demolished.

By then, it was already late in the afternoon and the sun was setting across the horizon. Johanna stepped up, taking the remote from him. Speaking into her communication piece, Effie alerted the Command Centre to bring up the force field once they were all standing outside of it. Johanna took great pleasure in pressing the button that eventually rocketed the arena in a contained demolition.

"Mine's tomorrow, yeah?"

"It is," Effie nodded as they descended down the stairs of the Parliament to head home. "Yours is scheduled for 10.00 am and - where are you going?"

"Don't wait up," she waved and disappeared down one of the alleys.

Effie turned towards Haymitch, biting her lower lip as she did so. "I hope she is not planning on repeating what happened yesterday."

"The way I see it you can head home right now and lock the door before she comes home or you can come over my place," Haymitch shrugged, giving her the option.

She thought it through but eventually made up her mind. "I will head home. It is my house and I will not hide away from it."

"Alright. Call if you need anything, yeah?"

At two in the morning, Effie was startled awake by the ringing of her phone. The voice of a clearly annoyed Haymitch greeted her.

"I'm coming over," he said without preamble but Effie could guess from the loud music in the background that Johanna had clearly invaded his space.

"I can't believe you locked me out of your house, Trinket!"

Effie winced. She was perfectly fine with letting Johanna in but the thought of having a stranger in a place she had learnt to feel safe in was not something she could deal with lately. She should have made it clear with Johanna from the start. It was her fault.

"She's got the same guy from yesterday," Haymitch sighed. "I'm gonna let them have this place. I'll go to yours. You're okay with that?"

Better Haymitch than a stranger.

"Absolutely. I'm terribly sorry you're in this position."

"Ain't your fault. Don't fucking touch my booze," she heard Haymitch yell over the music before he hung up.

He was there ten minutes later. Effie led him to the guest bedroom except he looked appalled at the mere thought.

"I ain't sleeping on that – imagine what went on there yesterday night," he grumbled. "I'm fine with the couch, sweetheart."

“You can sleep with me, Haymitch,” she offered.

“You sure?”

“Yes, of course,” she nodded with a smile. “The bed is much more comfortable than the couch.”

When she woke up to find herself cocooned in his embrace, Effie couldn’t say she was surprised. They had a way of unconsciously gravitating towards one another especially so in their sleep when their guards were down.

Effie blinked, looking at him, making no move to extricate herself from the situation. She missed this. She missed having the heavy weight of his arm thrown carelessly around her waist. She missed waking up with her face pressed against his chest. She missed the warmth that only he could give her.

Alright, you know the drill, let me have your reviews! Tell me your thoughts on this chapter :)

Also, just a quick announcement, there will not be an update next week as I'll be sitting for my exam paper & then flying off after. So see you in 2 weeks!

[readbookywooks]

The Only One He Ever Feared

'He hasn't gone!' Harry yelled. He did not believe it; he would not believe it; still he fought Lupin with every bit of strength he had. Lupin did not understand; people hid behind that curtain; Harry had heard them whispering the first time he had entered the room. Sirius was hiding, simply lurking out of sight-- 'SIRIUS!' he bellowed. 'SIRIUS!' 'He can't come back, Harry,' said Lupin, his voice breaking as he struggled to contain Harry. 'He can't come back, because he's d-- 'HE--IS--NOT-- DEAD!' roared Harry. 'SIRIUS!' There was movement going on around them, pointless bustling, the flashes of more spells. To Harry it was meaningless noise, the deflected curses flying past them did not matter, nothing mattered except that Lupin should stop pretending that Sirius--who was standing feet from them behind that old curtain--was not going to emerge at any moment, shaking back his dark hair and eager to re-enter the battle. Lupin dragged Harry away from the dais. Harry still staring at the archway, was angry at Sirius now for keeping him waiting-- But some part of him realised, even as he fought to break free from Lupin, that Sirius had never kept him waiting before ... Sirius had risked everything, always, to see Harry to help him ... if Sirius was not reappearing out of that archway when Harry was yelling for him as though his life depended on it, the only possible explanation was that he could not come back ... that he really was-- Dumbledore had most of the remaining Death Eaters grouped in the middle of the room, seemingly immobilised by invisible ropes; Mad-Eye Moody had crawled across the room to where Tonks lay, and was attempting to revive her; behind the dais there were still flashes of light, grunts and cries--Kingsley had run forward to continue Sirius's duel with Bellatrix. 'Harry?' Neville had slid down the stone benches one by one to the place where Harry stood. Harry was no longer struggling against Lupin, who maintained a precautionary grip on his arm nevertheless. 'Harry ... I'b really sorry ...' said Neville. His legs were still dancing uncontrollably. 'Was dad man--was Sirius Black a--a friend of yours?' Harry nodded. 'Here,' said Lupin quietly, and pointing his wand at Neville's legs he said, 'Finite.' The spell was lifted: Neville's legs fell back to the floor and remained still. Lupin's face was pale. 'Let's--let's find the others. Where are they all, Neville?' Lupin turned away from the archway as he spoke. It sounded as though every word was causing him pain. 'Dey're all back dere,' said Neville. 'A brain addacked Ron bud I dink he's all righd--and Herbione's unconscious, bud we could feel a bulse--' There was a loud bang and a yell from behind the dais. Harry saw Kingsley hit the ground yelling in pain: Bellatrix Lestrange turned tail and ran as Dumbledore whipped around. He aimed a spell at her but she deflected it; she was halfway up the steps now -- 'Harry--no!' cried Lupin, but Harry had already ripped his arm from Lupin's slackened grip. 'SHE KILLED SIRIUS!' bellowed Harry. 'SHE KILLED HIM--I'LL KILL HER!' And he was off, scrambling up the stone benches; people were shouting behind him but he did not care. The hem of Bellatrix's robes whipped out of sight ahead and they were back in the room where the brains were swimming ... She aimed a curse over her shoulder. The tank rose into the air and tipped. Harry was deluged in the foul-smelling potion within: the brains slipped and slid over him and began spinning their long coloured tentacles, but he shouted, 'Wingardium Leviosa!' and they flew off him up into the air. Slipping and sliding, he ran on towards the door; he leapt over Luna, who was groaning on the floor, past Ginny, who said, 'Harry--what--?', past Ron, who giggled feebly, and Hermione, who was still unconscious. He wrenched open the door into the circular black hall and saw Bellatrix disappearing through a door on the other side of the room; beyond her was the corridor leading back to the lifts. He ran, but she had slammed the door behind her and the walls were already rotating. Once more, he was surrounded by streaks of blue light from the whirling candelabra. 'Where's the exit?' he shouted desperately, as the wall rumbled to a halt again. 'Where's the way out?' The room seemed to have been waiting for him to ask. The door right behind him flew open and the corridor towards the lifts stretched ahead of him, torch-lit and empty. He ran ... He could hear a lift clattering ahead; he sprinted up the passageway, swung around the corner and slammed his fist on to the button to call a second lift. It jangled and banged lower and lower; the grilles slid open and Harry dashed inside, now hammering the button marked 'Atrium'. The doors slid shut and he was rising ... He forced his way out of the lift before the grilles were fully open and looked around. Bellatrix was almost at the telephone lift at the other end of the hall, but she looked back as he sprinted towards her and aimed another spell at him. He dodged behind the Fountain of Magical Brethren: the spell zoomed past him and hit the wrought-gold gates at the other end of the Atrium so that they rang like bells. There were no more footsteps. She had stopped running. He crouched behind the statues, listening. 'Come out, come out, little Harry!' she called in her mock baby voice, which echoed off the polished wooden floors. 'What did you come after me for, then? I thought you were here to avenge my dear cousin!' 'I am!' shouted Harry, and a score of ghostly Harry's seemed to chorus I am! I am! I am! all around the room. 'Aaaaaah ... did you love him, little baby Potter?' Hatred rose in Harry such as he had never known before; he flung himself out from behind the fountain and bellowed, 'Crucio!' Bellatrix screamed: the spell had knocked her off her feet, but she did not writhe and shriek with pain as Neville had--she was already back on her feet, breathless, no longer laughing. Harry dodged behind the golden fountain again. Her counter-spell hit the head of the handsome wizard, which was blown off and landed twenty feet away, gouging long scratches into the wooden floor. 'Never used an Unforgivable Curse before, have you, boy?' she yelled. She had abandoned her baby voice now. 'You need to mean them, Potter! You need to really want to cause pain--to enjoy it--righteous anger won't hurt me for long--I'll show you how it is done, shall I? I'll give you a lesson--' Harry was edging around the fountain on the other side when she screamed, 'Crucio!' and he was forced to duck down again as the centaur's arm, holding its bow, span off and landed with a crash on the floor a short distance from the golden wizard's head. 'Potter, you cannot win against me!' she cried. He could hear her moving to the right, trying to get a clear shot of him. He backed around the statue away from her, crouching behind the centaur's legs, his head level with the house-elf's. 'I was and am the Dark Lord's most loyal servant. I learned the Dark Arts from him, and I know spells of such power that you, pathetic little boy, can never hope to compete-- ' 'Stupefy!' yelled Harry. He had edged right around to where the goblin stood beaming up at the now headless wizard and taken aim at her back as she peered around the fountain. She reacted so fast he barely had time to duck. 'Protego!' The jet of red light, his own Stunning Spell, bounced back at him. Harry scrambled back behind the fountain and one of the goblin's ears went flying across the room. 'Potter, I'm going to give you one chance!' shouted Bellatrix. 'Give me the prophecy--roll it out towards me now--and I may spare your life!' 'Well, you're going to have to kill me, because it's gone!' Harry roared and, as he shouted it, pain seared across his forehead; his scar was on fire again, and he felt a surge of fury that was quite unconnected with his own rage. 'And he knows!' said Harry, with a mad laugh to match Bellatrix's own. 'Your dear old mate Voldemort knows it's gone! He's not going to be happy with you, is he?' 'What? What do you mean?' she cried, and for the first time there was fear in her voice. 'The prophecy smashed when I was trying to get Neville up the steps! What do you think Voldemort'll say about that, then?' His scar seared and burned ... the pain of it was making his eyes stream ... 'LIAR!' she shrieked, but he could hear the terror behind the anger now. 'YOU'VE GOT IT, POTTER, AND YOU WILL GIVE IT TO ME! Accio prophecy! ACCIO PROPHECY!' Harry laughed again because he knew it would incense her, the pain building in his head so badly he thought his skull might burst. He waved his empty hand from behind the one-eared goblin and withdrew it quickly as she sent another jet of green light flying at him. 'Nothing there!' he shouted. 'Nothing to summon! It smashed and nobody heard what it said, tell your boss that!' 'No!' she screamed. 'It isn't true, you're lying! MASTER, I TRIED, I TRIED--DO NOT PUNISH ME--' 'Don't waste your breath!' yelled Harry, his eyes screwed up against the pain in his scar, now more terrible than ever. 'He can't hear you from here!' 'Can't I, Potter?' said a high, cold voice. Harry opened his eyes. Tall, thin and black-hooded, his terrible snakelike face white and gaunt, his scarlet, slit-pupilled eyes staring ... Lord Voldemort had appeared in the middle of the hall, his wand pointing at Harry who stood frozen, quite unable to move. 'So, you smashed my prophecy?' said Voldemort softly, staring at Harry with those pitiless red eyes. 'No, Bella, he is not lying ... I see the truth looking at me from within his worthless mind ... months of preparation, months of effort ... and my Death Eaters have let Harry Potter thwart me again ...' 'Master, I am sorry, I knew not, I was fighting the Animagus Black!' sobbed Bellatrix, flinging herself down at Voldemort's feet as he paced slowly nearer. 'Master, you should know--' 'Be quiet, Bella,' said Voldemort dangerously. 'I shall deal with you in a moment. Do you think I have entered the Ministry of Magic to hear your snivelling apologies?' 'But Master--he is here--he is below--' Voldemort paid no attention. 'I have nothing more to say to you, Potter,' he said quietly. 'You have irked me too often, for too long. AVADA KEDAVRA!' Harry had not even opened his mouth to resist; his mind was blank, his wand pointing uselessly at the floor. But the headless golden statue of the wizard in the fountain had sprung alive, leaping from its plinth to land with a crash on the floor between Harry and Voldemort. The spell merely glanced off its chest as the statue flung out its arms to protect Harry. 'What--?' cried Voldemort, staring around. And then he breathed, 'Dumbledore!' Harry looked behind him, his heart pounding. Dumbledore was standing in front of the golden gates. Voldemort raised his wand and another jet of green light streaked at Dumbledore, who turned and was gone in a whirling of his cloak. Next second, he had reappeared behind Voldemort and waved his wand towards the remnants of the fountain. The other statues sprang to life. The statue of the witch ran at Bellatrix, who screamed and sent spells streaming uselessly off its chest, before it dived at her, pinning her to the floor. Meanwhile, the goblin and the house-elf scuttled towards the fireplaces set along the wall and the one-armed centaur galloped at Voldemort, who vanished and reappeared beside the pool. The headless statue thrust Harry backwards, away from the fight, as Dumbledore advanced on Voldemort and the golden centaur cantered around them both. 'It was foolish to come here tonight, Tom,' said Dumbledore calmly. 'The Aurors are on their way--' 'By which time I shall be gone, and you will be dead!' spat Voldemort. He sent another killing curse at Dumbledore but missed, instead hitting the security guard's desk, which burst into flame. Dumbledore flicked his own wand: the force of the spell that emanated from it was such that Harry, though shielded by his golden guard, felt his hair stand on end as it passed and this time Voldemort was forced to conjure a shining silver shield out of thin air to deflect it. The spell, whatever it was, caused no visible damage to the shield, though a deep, gong-like note reverberated from it--an oddly chilling sound. 'You do not seek to kill me, Dumbledore?' called Voldemort, his scarlet eyes narrowed over the top of the shield. 'Above such brutality, are you?' 'We both know that there are other ways of destroying a man, Tom,' Dumbledore said calmly, continuing to walk towards Voldemort as though he had not a fear in the world, as though nothing had happened to interrupt his stroll up the hall. 'Merely taking your life would not satisfy me, I admit--' 'There is nothing worse than death, Dumbledore!' snarled Voldemort. 'You are quite wrong,' said Dumbledore, still closing in upon Voldemort and speaking as lightly as though they were discussing the matter over drinks. Harry felt scared to see him walking along, undefended, shieldless; he wanted to cry out a warning, but his headless guard kept shunting him backwards towards the wall, blocking his every attempt to get out from behind it. 'Indeed, your failure to understand that there are things much worse than death has always been your greatest weakness--' Another jet of green light flew from behind the silver shield. This time it was the one-armed centaur, galloping in front of Dumbledore, that took the blast and shattered into a hundred pieces, but before the fragments had even hit the floor, Dumbledore had drawn back his wand and waved it as though brandishing a whip. A long thin flame flew from the tip; it wrapped itself around Voldemort, shield and all. For a moment, it seemed Dumbledore had won, but then the fiery rope became a serpent, which relinquished its hold on Voldemort at once and turned, hissing furiously, to face Dumbledore. Voldemort vanished; the snake reared from the floor, ready to strike-- There was a burst of flame in midair above Dumbledore just as Voldemort reappeared, standing on the plinth in the middle of the pool where so recently the five statues had stood. 'Look out!' Harry yelled. But even as he shouted, another jet of green light flew at Dumbledore from Voldemort's wand and the snake struck-- Fawkes swooped down in front of Dumbledore, opened his beak wide and swallowed the jet of green light whole: he burst into flame and fell to the floor, small, wrinkled and flightless. At the same moment, Dumbledore brandished his wand in one long, fluid movement--the snake, which had been an instant from sinking its fangs into him, flew high into the air and vanished in a wisp of dark smoke; and the water in the pool rose up and covered Voldemort like a cocoon of molten glass. For a few seconds Voldemort was visible only as a dark, rippling, faceless figure, shimmering and indistinct upon the plinth, clearly struggling to throw off the suffocating mass-- Then he was gone and the water fell with a crash back into its pool, slopping wildly over the sides, drenching the polished floor. 'MASTER!' screamed Bellatrix. Sure it was over, sure Voldemort had decided to flee, Harry made to run out from behind his statue guard, but Dumbledore bellowed: 'Stay where you are, Harry!' For the first time, Dumbledore sounded frightened. Harry could not see why: the hall was quite empty but for themselves, the sobbing Bellatrix still trapped under the witch statue, and the baby phoenix Fawkes croaking feebly on the floor--' Then Harry's scar burst open and he knew he was dead: it was pain beyond imagining, pain past endurance-- He was gone from the hall, he was locked in the coils of a creature with red eyes, so tightly bound that Harry did not know where his body ended and the creatures began: they were fused together, bound by pain, and there was no escape-- And when the creature spoke, it used Harry's mouth, so that in his agony he felt his jaw move ... 'Kill me now, Dumbledore ...' Blinded and dying, every part of him screaming for release, Harry felt the creature use him again ... 'If death is nothing, Dumbledore, kill the boy ...' Let the pain stop, thought Harry ... let him kill us ... end it, Dumbledore ... death is nothing compared to this ... And I'll see Sirius again ... And as Harry's heart filled with emotion, the creatures coils loosened, the pain was gone; Harry was lying face down on the floor, his glasses gone, shivering as though he lay upon ice, not wood ... And there were voices echoing through the hall, more voices than there should have been ... Harry opened his eyes, saw his glasses lying by the heel of the headless statue that had been guarding him, but which now lay flat on its back, cracked and immobile. He put them on and raised his head a little to find Dumbledore's crooked nose inches from his own. 'Are you all right, Harry?' 'Yes,' said Harry, shaking so violently he could not hold his head up properly. 'Yeah, I'm --where's Voldemort, where--who are all these--what's--' The Atrium was full of people; the floor was reflecting the emerald green flames that had burst into fire in all the fireplaces along one wall; and streams of witches and wizards were emerging from them. As Dumbledore pulled him back to his feet, Harry saw the tiny gold statues of the house-elf and the goblin, leading a stunned-looking Cornelius Fudge forward. 'He was there!' shouted a scarlet-robed man with a ponytail, who was pointing at a pile of golden rubble on the other side of the hall, where Bellatrix had lain trapped only moments before. 'I saw him, Mr. Fudge, I swear it was You-Know-Who, he grabbed a woman and Disapparated!' 'I know, Williamson, I know, I saw him too!' gibbered Fudge, who was wearing pyjamas under his pinstriped cloak and was gasping as though he had just run miles. 'Merlin's beard--here--here!-- in the Ministry of Magic!--great heavens above--it doesn't seem possible--my word--how can this be--?' 'If you proceed downstairs into the Department of Mysteries, Cornelius,' said Dumbledore-- apparently satisfied that Harry was all right, and walking forwards so that the newcomers realised he was there for the first time (a few of them raised their wands; others simply looked amazed; the statues of the elf and goblin applauded and Fudge jumped so much that his slipper-clad feet left the floor)--'you will find several escaped Death Eaters contained in the Death Chamber, bound by an Anti-Disapparation Jinx and awaiting your decision as to what to do with them.' 'Dumbledore!' gasped Fudge, beside himself with amazement. 'You--here--I--I--' He looked wildly around at the Aurors he had brought with him and it could not have been clearer that he was in half a mind to cry, 'Seize him!' 'Cornelius, I am ready to fight your men--and win, again!' said Dumbledore in a thunderous voice. 'But a few minutes ago you saw proof, with your own eyes, that I have been telling you the truth for a year. Lord Voldemort has returned, you have been chasing the wrong man for twelve months, and it is time you listened to sense!' 'I--don't--well --' blustered Fudge, looking around as though hoping somebody was going to tell him what to do. When nobody did, he said, 'Very well--Dawlish! Williamson! Go down to the Department of Mysteries and see ... Dumbledore, you--you will need to tell me exactly--the Fountain of Magical Brethren--what happened?' he added in a kind of whimper, staring around at the floor, where the remains of the statues of the witch, wizard and centaur now lay scattered. 'We can discuss that after I have sent Harry back to Hogwarts,' said Dumbledore. 'Harry--Harry Potter?' Fudge wheeled around and stared at Harry, who was still standing against the wall beside the fallen statue that had guarded him during Dumbledore and Voldemort's duel. 'He--here?' said Fudge, goggling at Harry. 'Why--what's all this about?' 'I shall explain everything,' repeated Dumbledore, 'when Harry is back at school.' He walked away from the pool to the place where the golden wizard's head lay on the floor. He pointed his wand at it and muttered, 'Portus.' The head glowed blue and trembled noisily against the wooden floor for a few seconds, then became still once more. 'Now see here, Dumbledore!' said Fudge, as Dumbledore picked up the head and walked back to Harry carrying it. 'You haven't got authorisation for that Portkey! You can't do things like that right in front of the Minister for Magic, you--you--' His voice faltered as Dumbledore surveyed him magisterially over his half-moon spectacles. 'You will give the order to remove Dolores Umbridge from Hogwarts,' said Dumbledore. 'You will tell your Aurors to stop searching for my Care of Magical Creatures teacher so that he can return to work. I will give you ...' Dumbledore pulled a watch with twelve hands from his pocket and surveyed it...'half an hour of my time tonight, in which I think we shall be more than able to cover the important points of what has happened here. After that, I shall need to return to my school. If you need more help from me you are, of course, more than welcome to contact me at Hogwarts. Letters addressed to the Headmaster will find me.' Fudge goggled worse than ever; his mouth was open and his round face grew pinker under his rumpled grey hair. 'I--you--' Dumbledore turned his back on him. 'Take this Portkey, Harry.' He held out the golden head of the statue and Harry placed his hand on it, past caring what he did next or where he went. 'I shall see you in half an hour,' said Dumbledore quietly. 'One ... two ... three ...' Harry felt the familiar sensation of a hook being jerked behind his navel. The polished wooden floor was gone from beneath his feet; the Atrium, Fudge and Dumbledore had all disappeared and he was flying forwards in a whirlwind of colour and sound ...

[thunderbirdcarebear]

New Beginnings - Chapter 6

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5

Chapter 6: Discovery

After we'd gone round the entire house, Mr Tracy appeared from his room, carrying boards from his windows. He looked a lot happier than I'd thought he would after the disturbed night we'd had.

"Right," he said. Looking about, he saw Scott come back in from the patio. "Ah, Scott, do we have power again yet?"

"No, father, sorry. We didn't want to disturb you so we went outside to clear up first."

He looked around again and saw the other boys milling around carrying planks of wood to be put back into storage, burnt down candles, dead matches, used batteries, all the sorts of things you get through in a black out.

"I guess we'd better get the power rebooted then."

"Do you want my help, father?" Scott asked.

"Uh, yeah, OK. You can help too, Tin-Tin."

After collecting a torch, we walked down to the basement. It was dark and smelled musty. When we reached the bottom, I switched on the torch and Mr Tracy tried the lights. Nothing happened. "Just checking."

I looked around. I was surrounded by rocky walls; I guess we must have been inside the hills.

I looked over to where Scott and Mr Tracy had gone. They were on the other side of the basement next to a box on the wall.

Mr Tracy was opening it just as I got there. I held the torch up so they could see what they were doing. He flipped a few switches and the lights came on.

We were in a big space, which was full of junk. I looked around, as I turned off the torch. There were boxes with each of the boys' names on; one for Scott, Virgil and the others. I looked in the first box I came across; it was John's. There were baby pictures, old teddy bears, baby grows, all the sorts of things you'd normally find in a basement or attic.

Scott turned round. "Say, what you looking at, Tin-Tin?"

I looked up as he walked over. I showed him a picture I'd pulled out of his box and his face dropped. "Oh, no, Dad," he moaned, turning to look at his father. "Why d'you have to bring her down here? I'd forgotten this lot was here."

I was about to say something when I heard a bleeping noise. I looked about to see where it could be coming from but then I saw Mr Tracy raise his arm. I looked at him confused.

"Jeff Tracy here. Oh, hi Brains. What's wrong?"

"We've received an emergency call from A-A-A-Alan in the space station."

"OK, Brains. I'll be right there." He turned to us. "Coming?"

I nodded then turned to Scott. "What's with the watch?"

"Watch? Oh, I see. We have communicators in our watches for emergencies." He raised his arm and pressed a button on the side of his watch. "This is Scott Tracy calling John Tracy, Scott Tracy calling John Tracy; come in John." I looked at his watch and the dial disappeared to be replaced by John's face.

"What's wrong, Scott?" He sounded very alarmed.

"Whoa, calm down, John. I'm just demonstrating the intricacies of the wristwatch telecom."

"Oh. Oh, alright." Now he sounded disappointed. I felt sorry for John. He rarely got to go on rescues.

We reached the lounge and I saw that Brains and Virgil were talking to a monitor bearing Alan's face.

"What's the problem?" Mr Tracy asked as Alan terminated the link.

"There's been an explosion in a tower in Tokyo causing a fire, which the fire crews there are unable to control," Virgil reported.

"Th-there are a group of t-tourists buried, uh, underneath the wreckage of the-the tower. They're alive, but t-trapped," Brains added.

"Right. Scott, you get Thunderbird 1 out there and set up. Alan can give you more details when you're airborne."

"FAB," Scott said, walking over to his panel.

About five minutes later, Scott radioed us.

"I've had more details from Alan and I think we're gonna need the fire fighting equipment and a double crew. Oh, and probably the tunnelling equipment."

"OK, Scott. Thanks." Mr Tracy looked round the room. Virgil was sat on the settee, waiting hopefully. He knew he'd be needed. "Virgil, get down to Thunderbird 2. You'll need Pod 1 and I'm sending John with you. OK, off you go." He turned to the multitude of buttons and pressed one marked "John". He appeared on his portrait / monitor, reading a book and apparently unaware he was being watched. "John, get up here. You're going with Virgil on a rescue."

I looked into the screen again to see him jump off his bed and drop his book on the floor; all the disappointment from earlier was completely gone to be replaced by excitement.

A couple of hours later, I was sat just inside the balcony looking out over the ocean through closed doors. There was a strong breeze out there, a kind of reminder of the previous night's storm.

I heard a noise outside and looked about to see which way it was coming from. I knew what it was; Scott had returned from the fire. I looked back across the lounge and Mr Tracy nodded. He'd heard it, too.

He pressed a button on his desk and the swimming pool below began to slide back to reveal the opening beneath it.

I looked up and Thunderbird 1 started lowering towards the opening. I crossed the room to sit on the settee.

I heard a mechanical noise and the panel swung round revealing a very messy Scott still in his uniform.

"What happened, then?" Mr Tracy asked.

"Well, once Virgil arrived we soon got to blaze under control and we also managed to stop the fire from spreading any further. The tourists were all OK, a few bruises and scrapes, one broken arm and they were all a bit shaken up, but fine."

"That's good to hear," I said. "Do you know why the fire started?"

"Actually, I do. The building's foundations were in unstable ground and they've been trying to make it safer for a long time, but have been unsuccessful. So they planted explosives to demolish the tower but something went wrong and the explosion was uncontrolled."

"What about the tourists? How did they become trapped?" Mr Tracy asked.

"They were in the area and didn't understand the warning signs. They were looking through a phrase book trying to find the translation when the explosion occurred." Scott walked across the room and was about to sit down, but decided not to when he saw his father shook his head at him. "Are there any more questions, or can I go now?"

"Just one more," I said, smiling. "Did you try to put the fire out with your bare hands?"

He looked down at his uniform. "I think I'll go get cleaned up."

"You do that. Are Virgil and John far behind?" Mr Tracy asked.

"No, I don't think so." He walked off, wiping his forehead.

"Oh, Scott," Mr Tracy called. Scott whirled round, pulling off his sash as he did. "Put your uniform into the auto-wash straight away. I don't want your room smelling like a bonfire."

About ten or fifteen minutes later, Virgil and John returned. They were just as dirty and sweaty as Scott.

John came forward to give me a hug, but I backed off. "You want to hug me, you clean up first. I don't want to have to do extra cleaning!" I smiled at him. Then I started laughing. His face as covered with dirt, his normally clean blond hair was nearly brown and his smart uniform was no longer blue. Virgil was no better; it was hard to tell what colour his sash had once been.

That evening, I went back down to the basement with Virgil. He didn't seem to mind the idea of me looking at his baby pictures as much as Scott. Actually, I think he was interested himself to see them.

We reached the big rocky room and switched on the lights.

"You know, we're not allowed in here when Thunderbird 3 is due back or lifting off," Virgil suddenly said.

"Why's that?" I asked.

He walked over to one of the walls and leaned on it. I followed and put my hand against it. Nothing felt strange. It felt just like a rock wall should.

"That doesn't help," I said.

"Thunderbird 3 silo is on the other side of this wall. Dad doesn't want us in here in case anything happens."

"So why do you keep all your childhood memories in here?"

He shrugged. "I dunno. I'm just telling you what I've been told myself."

We walked in a little further until we reached the boxes.

I looked at the first box. It had something written on the side but I couldn't tell what because it was too dusty. I brushed at it and a big cloud of dust rose, making me cough. I looked at it again. I'd uncovered Alan's name.

While Virgil wandered round the basement looking at the small bikes complete with stabilisers, I rummaged round in the box. There were pictures of him at various stages of his young life, baby grows, teething rings, that sort of thing. I dug a little deeper and found a piece of paper. I pulled it out and dusted it off. It was Alan's birth certificate. I read it. "March 12th 2044".

I went to the next box and brushed off the name. It was John's box. I dug around and found what I was looking for. His birth certificate read "October 8th 2040"

I continued looking and brushing away dust to read the comments on the paper. Scott's read "April 4th 2039" and Gordon's "February 14th 2043".

I came to the last box, brushed away the dust and read Virgil's name. I dug around to find his birth certificate. I read it and gasped.

"What's wrong, honey?" Virgil asked, walking over.

I thought fast for an excuse. "Oh, nothing. I just, uh, found a spider."

Virgil laughed. "Is that all?"

I shrugged. "Yeah, silly of me, I guess. It's probably more afraid of me than I am of it." I glanced around pretending to look for it as Virgil wandered over to look at a collection of toys. I looked over as he crouched down and picked up a very small, very dusty toy piano.

'Typical Virgil. His mind is always on music.' "Let me guess," I called out, trying to overcome the shock I'd just had. "Your first piano?"

He nodded and I turned back round to look at the piece of paper again, checking I'd read the date correctly. "August 15th 2041". I'd read it right, but that meant it was Virgil's birthday tomorrow.