#twenty years? well. the village has another ‘young king’ and more luring to do

[afieldinengland]

can’t stop thinking about the form of sacrifice specifically practiced in robin redbreast. the cyclical nature of it is utterly horrifying

[alchemine]

Okay, here are two of those really old (like, c. 2003) Harry Potter fics. Remember that in the books, McGonagall has black hair and does not look like Maggie Smith (love Maggie, but I always missed black-haired Minerva in the films). 

Crowning Glory (or, Magic Hair McGonagall)

Remus Lupin had been reading essays for so long that his eyes were beginning to burn. He let the piece of parchment he was holding fall onto the heap in front of him and rubbed both hands over his face, groaning.

"Tired?" asked Minerva McGonagall, who was sitting on the other side of the staffroom table, tackling her own heap of essays. She seemed to be getting through three to every one of Remus's. He supposed experience made you work faster, perhaps because you'd seen everything before.

"Exhausted," he said. "The third years have good ideas, but their handwriting is terrible. I hope mine wasn't that bad when I was at school."

"As I recall, you usually started out quite neatly, then collapsed into a degenerate scrawl for the last six inches," Minerva said. As she was bent over her work, he could only see the top of her head, but he suspected she was smirking.

His eyes still felt full of sand, and the idea of forcing them to focus on written words again was agonising, so to postpone the inevitable, he sat and watched Minerva at work for a moment longer. She had forsaken her usual emerald-green robes that day for a set in Gryffindor crimson; they had gold embroidery around the neck and wrists, and looked very rich with her dark hair. What had she done to keep that hair so perfectly black during the years he'd been away from Hogwarts? Heaven knew his own had greyed enough. 

It wasn't fair, he thought. Minerva had to be close to seventy, and though that was only middle-aged for a witch, surely she was due a few silver strands by now. But there she was, looking almost exactly the same as when she'd taught him, right down to the bun.

A grin spread across his face as he thought of all the jokes he, Sirius, James and Peter had made about that bun over the years. Rain or shine, morning, noon or evening, it was firmly in place, wound up as intricately as the Gordian knot. He'd wondered often enough why she insisted on wearing it that way. 

Well, there was no reason not to ask her about it now, was there? They had developed a comfortable friendship during the course of this year, and anyway, she wasn’t his teacher anymore.

"You know, I've always wondered why you never leave your hair down," he said. "It looks like it would be lovely."

Minerva sighed, straightened up, and set her quill to one side. "It is, if I do say so myself," she said. "But letting it down in public has certain...consequences that I prefer not to deal with."

"Consequences?” Remus laughed a little. “What sort of consequences could there possibly be?"

A strange glint came into Minerva's eye.

"Would you like me to show you?" she asked.

Yes," said Remus, pleased that she was responding so readily to his enquiry.

"All right," Minerva said, "but remember, you asked for it." 

She got up and, to his surprise, closed and locked the staffroom door. Then she crossed the room to stand in front of him, silhouetted by the light from the window.

"Brace yourself," she said, and reaching up, plucked a strategically placed pin out of her bun. Her hair came down in a rush--long, then longer, reaching almost to her waist--and she shook out the black locks so they hung straight and glossy. As she did, a warm, faintly floral perfume drifted out and caressed Remus's nostrils, and to his horror, he found himself instantly, embarrassingly, and rather painfully aroused. 

He cleared his throat and discreetly tried to adjust himself through his robes, hoping the sensation would go away, but it didn't. If anything, it grew stronger, until his entire consciousness seemed to have taken up residence in his groin. He felt giddy and overheated and not a little desperate.

"Please ..." he croaked, though he wasn't even sure what he was begging for. He pushed back his chair, rose, and took a stumbling step toward Minerva--and then she gathered her hair up in both hands and twisted it into its knot again, and his mind cleared.

She smiled at him a bit apologetically.

"I did warn you, you know," she said.

"What the hell was that about?" Remus demanded. Wiping sweat from his forehead with his sleeve --if there was one benefit to wearing threadbare robes, it was never having to worry about ruining them--he collapsed, trembling, back into his seat. "Are you a veela in disguise?"

"No, just someone who once worked a charm that went wrong," Minerva said. "I was only trying to stop myself getting split ends."

"And that was the result?"

"It was," she said, smoothing a few loose tendrils of hair into place. "Mind you, I won't say it's never come in handy, but could you imagine trying to have a normal life with everyone you passed clutching their crotches and drooling at you? Not to mention the havoc it could wreak on my career. Such a lack of professional dignity. No, it's much safer to avoid the issue altogether. Keep the hair up, keep the spell under control."

Remus had a sudden vision of Minerva using this unexpected power to lure attractive wizards, and possibly a few witches as well, into the alley behind the Three Broomsticks. He shook his head to get rid of it.

"When I was a pupil here, we always used to say that if you ever let your hair down, the walls of Hogwarts would come down with it," he said. "I can tell you we never imagined anything like this, though."

"And that's just the way I would have wanted it," Minerva replied primly. She sat down at the table again, picking up her quill and preparing to go back to work. Clearly, she thought the subject was closed, but now Remus was as inflamed with professional curiosity as he had been with misplaced passion a few minutes before.

"Wait, you can't just leave it there. Tell me more. Does it only work on men? Does it have to be in a knot like that, or would just tying it back have the same effect? Haven't you ever tried to find a countercharm?"

Minerva looked up from the new essay she was marking.

"No, yes, no, and yes," she said. "Now let's not talk about it any longer. I don't tell many people my little secret. Don't make me sorry I told you." He opened his mouth as if to ask another question, and she added, "Because if you do, I'll come to your room tonight. I'll immobilise you so you can't touch me, or yourself. And then I'll let my hair down and sit on the edge of your bed until morning."

"That would be torture," said Remus, imagining it.

"Yes," Minerva said with a faint smile.

He thought for a minute while she regarded him over the tops of her spectacles.

"Please pass the ink," he said.

"Good boy, Remus."

After that, the only sound in the staffroom was the thin scratch-scratch of quills on parchment.

Four and Twenty Blackbirds (or, Hagrid eats children) (he really does) (this is your last warning)

He'd mixed the crust himself, dropping in lumps of butter from his worn old wooden spoon. Lots of butter made it bake up light and flaky; it'd melt in your mouth almost. He'd put new peas in, too, and carrots he'd pulled up in the garden, and last of all the meat, nice big chunks of it. A pie fit for a king, it was.

Guilty pleasure swelled in his chest as he thought of that meat, and where he'd got it. He hadn't even meant to go hunting when he he'd woken up that morning. But Dumbledore had sent him on an errand, and on his way back, he'd spied a perfect bit of quarry--young and tender as they came, but so dirty and neglected that he knew no one would miss it. It hadn't even whimpered as he scooped it up and hid it under his long leather coat.

I trust Hagrid implicitly, was what Dumbledore always said when people asked how he felt about having a half-giant at his school. The man had a lovely way of speaking, with long words that made even nasty things sound nice somehow. He would never harm a Hogwarts pupil, Dumbledore said, and of course Hagrid wouldn't, would never even dream of it.

But sometimes a giant had special needs, no matter how kind and gentle he was as a rule. Sometimes a giant got a certain sort of hunger--a giantish sort of hunger.

And at times like that, well, only one food would do.

People would blame him if they found out, Hagrid knew. Dumbledore had warned him a long time ago to be careful, very careful, and do his poaching far away from the school and village. Hagrid had always obeyed, but he thought it was a bit unfair, really. No one blamed a hippogriff for eating dead ferrets, or a Niffler for digging up treasure. That was the way they were made. Why should it be any different because Hagrid happened to be made with an occasional need to eat a human child?

It was a giant's nature. All the fairy tales said so.

Hagrid opened the oven door and slid the pie-plate out with a long paddle. The crust split a bit at the top when the cooler air touched it, releasing a cloud of steam and mouthwatering aromas.

Dinner was served.

( @queenology @theuncertainhour @randomreindeer)

[energyswordsunday]

and time’s arrow marches on.

Cross-Posted on AO3.

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Fandom: Runescape

Relationship: Adwr/Rowena

Characters: Rowena Behr, Adwr Cadarn, Leolin Cadarn

Words: 2990  Chapter: 1/?

Content Warning: Misogyny, Antisemitism, Classism

Summary: 25 Pentember 1927, 4th Age. Yanille, Kandarin. The day Adwr Cadarn's life takes a bittersweet turn. And yet, in the end, he wouldn't have had it any other way.

Elf meets human meets forbidden romance.

Chapter Summary: A mysterious farm girl has been the talk of the town for the past 2 years. She seems to constantly be in the public eye, no matter how much she keeps to herself. Fresh from Prifddinas, a young elf has been set on guard duty at the entrance to the village. His naturally inquisitive nature lands him in the pickle of a lifetime. His mission: to get to the bottom of this mystery, and figure out just who this girl really is. With help from his best friend, will this elf be able to talk to the intimidating human?

Behr.    A foul, foul word, like a hex.    The mages never liked her. The name she carries is poisoned, to them, for eternity.    Behr. Behr.    A word that oozes off their tongue, is spat with vitriol; a word that ignites a fiery, burning hatred in their heart.    She is a woman.    A woman, young and full of vigor, and filled to the brim with magical talent.    The elders are scared of her, hiding and hissing her name like a curse, for her raw power makes them insecure of their own feeble sparks. Roaches, she calls them. They hiss and spew in quiet tones, but scurry off when faced with confrontation. A mutual relationship of disgust and distrust is what they share, a complex setting where they must occupy the same space; maddening, sickening, but necessary.    She had joined the Mages’ Guild a little over two years prior, against the outcries of these mages. It is incomprehensible to them, still, how she got in. No matter their begging, pleading, grovelling, their Guildmaster will not budge, so they make up stories to soothe themselves. Simple, serpentine, suspiciously spurious stories, about how she threatened, beguiled, seduced him. They try to run her out, but it never works. And they still, still, don’t understand why.    Whatever the true reason, she is a woman, and she is good at magic. Better than all of them. This makes her unholy in the eyes of her guildmates. To them, she is a cheater; she had struck a deal with Zamorak to obtain her power, and in the process, corrupted herself, making her the despicable woman that she is today.    For a handful, she is. Loudmouthed and opinionated, with a sharp tongue to match her wit. Her shoulders are broad, and home to long, curled auburn hair that cascades down her back from under her patched hat, mesmerizing children and adult alike. Stern, scrutinous green eyes set her face, giving one the impression that she could use them to cut glass with ease. Faintly, she smells of hard work and the wilderness. She is Wizard Behr, the Bear from the Woods. And she is not of this earth.    It is clear to anyone who crosses paths with her that this is a stubborn woman. She has bowed her head not once to any man, and has spat in the face of proper society. Local gossip outside the guild pins her as an evil spirit that bewitches foolish men to do her whim. Her scale is in danger of tipping at any moment, her luck due to run out, yet, strangely, she remains unfazed.    “No man in their right mind would allow this beast to practice magic,” A greying wizard hisses to a colleague of his, outside a small building with a magical barrier glistening over its walls and makeshift fence. “I’m still angry that she-devil was let in, and now she has the audacity to make everyone wait on her?”        “Careful, Wizard Flemtoed, she might hear,” the other wizard replies, laced with sarcasm. “You don’t want your guts torn out by a live Behr do you?”    This snippet of conversation glides with the breeze and attracts the attention of a man a distance away. His ears, long and pointed, are fine-tuned to the world around him; what is normally a boon, for him, he wishes he could now deactivate. He is a foreigner in these parts, and still has not quite adjusted to the fact that humans are so different.    This man’s keen sense of hearing has landed him in quite a precarious position on numerous occasions since his migration, and frankly he is a little tired of his accidental eavesdropping, though it breaks the tedium of his daily routine. Consequently, in spite of his interest this time, he errs on the side of caution and keeps to himself.    He is on duty with a few other members from his clan, the Cadarn, who had first passed over Arandar centuries ago to settle and rule Kandarin. Out of a handful of these Elven settlements, the young man is liking his current station the most, as it has the most diversity around him.    Unfortunately, it is also in close proximity to the Ogres, making it a frequent target for raids, which have been rapidly increasing in numbers over the months. Yanille was a bit short-handed as a result, thus prompting King Baxtorian to issue the command leading to his reassignment.    Here, he is to stand guard temporarily in anticipation of a raid, while his fellow clansfolk worked on drafting up better defenses. While it is a fascinating place, guard duty leads to long bouts of boredom for this young man, which cause him to fantasize regularly about all the scouting missions he is missing out on. He often finds himself longing for the freedom and the thrill, along with the exercise.    “Adwr!” A voice barks out at him.        “Ah–?!” The young man jumps, having been caught red-handed in his daydreams. He is met with an intense gaze from his best friend, another elf from his clan, who is stationed about twenty feet from him.    “Don’t make me lecture you again,” the elf warns Adwr, soft but stern. This is a conversation they have had hundreds of times throughout their friendship, but without his help, in all honesty, Adwr doesn’t know how he would have survived his studies, let alone this guard assignment.        “Right,” Adwr chirps back, flashing his friend a sheepish smile. In his own defense, however, waiting around just in case anything happens is pretty boring. He doesn’t understand how people can just… stand there, and do nothing. He sighs and clicks his tongue, focusing on counting and naming all the types of wildlife he sees in front of him, again.    He’s somewhere through his third or fourth ‘I Spy’ game when the whispers that had distracted him moments ago suddenly grow to a hush. The crowd of wizards disperses, as if on cue, every one of them suddenly very late for things they have to do. A mixture of teleportation, running, and meandering occurs, leaving the courtyard bare. All except for one wizard, of course, who lingers – a sharp looking older man who really, really has no business growing a beard that long. Adwr can’t help but sneak a glance over in that direction.    “You’re late,” the older man grumbles, seemingly to himself. “You know how the Mages’ Guild feels about tardiness, right, Behr?”    The object of this man’s dispassionate scolding makes an irritated noise and waves her hand at her superior dismissively. “Farm business. You know, Art.”    The mass of vibrant curls that enters the village in front of him catches Adwr’s attention in an instant. His hand magnetizes to his chin, mouth slightly agape; his companion snorts, but the sound doesn’t register to the pale elf.    This is the woman that the villagers speak so ill of? 'Interesting', he thinks.    “Wizard Behr, I have made it clear that you are to refer to your colleagues with respect. This includes your leader,” the grumpy wizard starts. “You’d do well to note that I am the sole reason you were allowed entrance.”        “Oh, Gods be damned. What are we, monks? Ain’t your ma given you a name for a reason?” She counters.    The redhead shakes her head, giving a grunt of irritation. The tension between the two indicates to Adwr that this is conversation that is had very regularly.    “That is beside the point, Wizard Behr. Now come on, we haven’t got all day, and a full roster is required for this meeting in order to begin.” ‘Art’ resumes. The lines on his face seem to be less from old age and more from stress.        “Fine, fine. Just remember, I have a life an’ family too, ya know?”    “As do we all.”    The two wizards quiet down, taking to mumbling and grumbling to one another and themselves as they approach their guild building. Adwr watches them, engrossed, until his companion butts in again, this time with a gentle tap to his shoulder.    “Hey, pysgodyn aur. Our relief is here. Let’s go have some rarebit before you starve to death.”        “Rarebit… Oh! Lunch! I completely forgot!” Adwr replies. The prospect of food is enough to lure him away from his thoughts.    “I swear, I should just tie some cheese to a fishing rod and hop on your shoulders. Maybe then you’d pay attention to what’s in front of you.” His companion jokes, as they make their way to the meal tent.        “Only if it’s gouda cheese,” Adwr hums back, well aware he’s being ribbed.    The exasperated noise he receives in return is worth the pun. “We don’t even make gouda!”    The pale elf chuckles. “I’ll settle for tintern then.”    “Maybe in the next few years when we make it back to Prifddinas,” says the darker elf.        “I can wait as long as I need for some good cheese!”    “And as always, my point has been proven.”    In good spirits, the two elves plate up and make off to the corner of the tent, where it’s dim and quiet, absent of any distractions or irritants. Adwr seems pleased, content to share his meal with his childhood friend in peace.    Said friend has always understood that Adwr is a little… Odd. Different from other elves, certainly, but pleasant to talk to, passionate, and a very intelligent, creative-minded individual. It was a huge relief to him when they both got older and Adwr hadn’t taken on the arrogant, self-absorbed demeanor so many others of their age groups tended to due to their success and upbringing.    The elf, himself, was also considered strange, but in a different way. Whereas Adwr never really fit in socially, his companion was fine in that regard, where applicable. Instead, his problems lied in his heritage: he was born into a poor family of workers.    He would have been doomed to the same fate, had his family not encouraged and fostered his love for archery. Amongst his peers, this elf was an exceptional shot, but this carefully cultivated talent was always unfairly put under scrutiny. Elves of more influential families made no hesitations in reminding him that he was strange for trying to break out of his designated ‘box.’ Growing up, for him, was a constant unending struggle to prove his worth and fight for his own right to be put in the same courses as his peers.    Adwr, however, is different. This elf always held a specific sort of admiration, and a bit of jealousy, towards his friend, for though Adwr was othered based on his various quirks, he still regarded everyone with the same sort of respect, purely for the joy of friendship. It was Adwr who had approached him and extended his hand, and it was always Adwr who would stick up for him against the rest of their peers. He is thankful, truly, and wishes he could purely be just grateful and appreciative towards him, but there is always a part of him that will be jealous, for he truly had life easier. He never wants Adwr to know this, though, for he understands that Adwr wasn’t trying to play savior to him. But... Everyone has their own demons.    “Leolin. You haven’t touched your rarebit, are you okay?” Adwr interrupts his train of thought with his standard fare. It is a nice gesture, but sometimes Leolin just wishes his friend would let him mope.       “Mmh,” is the response he receives from his melancholic buddy. “I’m fine, just thinking about some things.” He puts on his best smile and Adwr seems to be soothed.    “Well, it’s really good today – they finally got the texture right this time! But I still think that rotating cooking shifts are the worst idea. I know we all were taught how to cook growing up, but some days, I really can’t stomach what’s put out.”    The elf’s passionate chatter warms Leolin a bit, inspiring him to sample the meal in front of him as he finishes speaking. It really is no use trying to be sad around this man. He takes a bite, and nods to indicate his pleasure.    “You’re right. My compliments to the chef – this is actually pretty good for the rarebit we have out here. They must have had a good run in with the locals,” Leolin muses. Quality elven ingredients weren’t always easy to come by out in these parts, so it can be assumed that there was some good luck with trading today.    This reminded him of the wizard that caused that commotion earlier, who was rumored to have come from a large local farm. Maybe she was late because her family was busy trading with their clan? His eyes glint with mischief as he remembers what he was planning to pester Adwr about.    “Speaking of locals… So how about that little redhead you were eyeing up earlier?” Leolin lilts, a devilish grin on his face. “You like farm girls, Adwr?”    Adwr nearly chokes on the piece of bread he’s currently attempting to swallow, causing him to slam a fist down on the shabby table as he tries not to cough it back in his friend’s face. The table wobbles, and Leolin’s plate jostles a little.    “Ach – No!” are the first words out of his mouth before he catches his breath and clears his throat. A light blush dusts his face thanks to the teasing and his lack of air.    “It wasn’t like that! You know I don’t engage in those sorts of behaviors, Leo, I was just curious! Did you see her hair? She stood out! And – I – Look, it was a coincidence. You know how easily distracted I am by noise.”    Leolin almost feels bad for messing with his friend, but gives him a long, drawn out wink and continues on anyways. “Oh, yeah, su~ure. Why so defensive? You just don’t want to admit that the human was cute.”    Adwr huffs indignantly, folding his arms and turning his head pointedly away. “I refuse to answer to your harassment.”    He sneaks a peak at Leolin after his show of being offended, who is giving him a very silly looking face. They meet eyes for a few seconds before Leolin wiggles his eyebrows at him, prompting them both to burst into a giggle fit. It takes at least a minute before they are able to regain their composure again.    “In all seriousness, though, what is with that ‘Behr’ girl?” Adwr asks. “You’ve been here longer than I have. She seems to be a controversial figure in this village. I just can’t wrap my head around why.”    Leolin fixes his friend with a serious gaze. “Rowena? Well, that’s her name, for starters.”    “Rowena,” Adwr repeats, waiting for him to continue.        “Yeah. She’s from some local farm I guess. And she’s the only woman in the Mages’ Guild here, from what I hear.” Something about what he just said to Adwr resonates deeply with Leolin. Another misfit, perhaps?    “Really? There’s no other women? Why?” The paler probes.        “Afraid I don’t know the answer to that. Why don’t you ask her?”    “I can’t! I don’t know her, what if she gets angry with me? I don’t want to be insensitive.”        “That didn’t stop you from talking to me when we first met. Come on, she’s only a human. Humans are practically harmless. I can stand there with you.” Leolin’s offer only makes Adwr frown more, worry creasing his face. Was he really that afraid of offending her?    “I don’t know. I think… I should watch and listen a bit more. I know she’s a human, Leo, but I can’t shake this feeling that she really is as scary as what the people here say.”        “My dear friend, you should know by now that just because people say something about someone, that doesn’t always mean it’s true.”    Adwr shakes his head. “Maybe humans are different like that. You’re forgetting that… That I haven’t actually talked to a human before, Leo.”    Leolin frowns at his friend’s increasingly negative behavior. This wasn’t typical for him. “Hey. What happened to that endless optimism? You were so excited about all the humans that lived here when I talked to you a few days ago. You can’t let your fear of one bad experience hold you back suddenly.”    A small, timid smile works its way to Adwr’s face. “I can, but I shouldn’t, I suppose.”    He looks back at his friend’s freckled face, and takes a deep breath. “I think if I talk to her, I should do it by myself. But. You can stand nearby, if you want, in case things go south. As long as I don’t have to do it right this second.”    “That’s better. I would be glad to stand guard, my friend. It’ll be a favor returned for all the times you were there for me whenever I had to talk to an instructor.” Leolin gives his friend a toothy smile and reaches across the table to offer his hand.    Adwr accepts the gesture, gripping his friend’s hand firmly with his own, and giving it a nice shake. “It’s a deal, then?”    “Deal. So, do you want to work on a list of questions, just in case?” Leolin offered this for his friend in fond memory of all the times Adwr had him do the same. Only, in this case, rather than passing someone a note, the intention was to prepare Adwr to speak to Rowena.        “I don’t want her to think it’s a survey!” Adwr replies hastily.    Leolin snorts. “It won’t be a survey, silly. I meant so you know what you want to say, and how, so you won’t choke up.”    “Oh. Well… In that case, let us commence!” Adwr rises to his feet, suddenly full of vigor and determination. He looks down at Leolin expectantly.        “Okay, fine. I’ll take my food with. Let’s go.”

Notes:

elves in runescape seem to speak welsh and have welsh names, if you're wondering about that. i didn't just pull that out of nowhere hgkdjghkdj

rowena is jewish CODED. i say this because runescape has its own extensive pantheons of gods and it's not easy to fit an irl religion like that in there without being offensive. so she retains more of the racial aspect than the religious here.

i tag antisemitism with the knowledge that some of the things these people will say does stem from that, but that's only one layer of many of hatred that rowena faces for who she is.

adwr is autistic. he was also a canon runescape character that was really only mentioned by name, adopted by me and my gf. 

[transboygenius]

SE4SON: Chapter 19

[*Back in medieval, in the afternoon*]

Jimmy and Nick were getting ready for their dinner with the king. Jimmy was putting on his cloak and hat, while Nick was slipping into his suit of armor. They even used the "cologne" Benson lend them.

"You don't have to wear the helmet, you know." Said Jimmy. "Eh. I feel more comfortable with my face hidden." Replied Nick.

Sally, sitting on a stack of hay, glowed by Nick's comment. That's exactly what the Silver Knight would say. The knight never shown his face. It could have something to do with his fear of facing reality, or how he's too shy to let anyone see him express facial emotions. Nothing will ever convince her that these two young gents aren't the heroic saviors from the past. Jimmy is wise, calm, and holds the same physical features as the Wise Wizard, described in the diary. Aside from the obvious armor, Nick is sassy yet sweet, just like the Silver Knight. Also to add, he is much taller compared to his partner. The way she has watched them, they seem to prefer standing by each other's side, as well as feeling comfortable together. They also sleep in the same barn. The wizard and knight may have lost their memories, but the way they feel for each other hasn't changed. Two gentlemen unwinding in a hot spring five feet apart cuz they're platonic comrades.

"So, Mr. Jimmy Wizard..." Asked Sally. "That's not my full name, and please don't call me that again." Replied Jimmy. "...I know you're incapable of doing magic, with your memory gone and all, but I'm sure you still possess the brains. How smart are you still?" "'How smart are you still?' That's improper use of grammar. I'm not 'still smart,' I'm 'always smart!' And FYI, I'm more smarter than you can bet on! Ask me anything!" "O-kay? Why is the sky blue?" "Appropriate answer from an eight-year old. Blue light is scattered in all directions by the minuscule molecules of air in Earth's atmosphere! Blue is scattered more than other colors because it peregrinates as shorter, more minute waves! Therefore, we optically discern an azure most of the time!" "Yep! You'd definitely have to be a super smart artist to sum up words I've never even heard of or understand." "Ask me another one if you please!" "How do you plan to turn the king's bargain against him?" "I was expecting either a science or history type question." "Like, are you gonna lure him into a pit of spikes?" "What? No! Where are we gonna find a spiky pit?" "You have a point there, very impractical. Hmmmmmm. Maybe you could poison his drink!" "Even though this is the medieval century, I'm not entirely sure poison is legalized in this town, given all the strict rules." "And all his pretty boys there will be watching us like hawks." Nick added. "Why not just have Diana step on him?"

Jimmy and Nick both looked at her in cringed expressions.

"You know, squash him like a cockroach? SPLAT! She's already big enough!"

The two boys were then relieved, but they still disagreed with her notion.

"How 'bout we lure him into a pit?" Asked Rodent Girl, who's in the barn with them for unknown reason. "We've already discussed this." Exclaimed Jimmy. "Ah, you did, but instead of spikes, which we don't have access to, King Jason falls into some scalding, melted cheese! And I have plenty of gouda, provolone, and mozzarella to spare! That would make his death slowfully painful. Not to mention, delicious! Mwahahahahahahaha."

Silence filled the barn, and everyone looked at Rodent Girl awkwardly, even the animals. Such a weird idea coming from a weird girl. All this silence started to make her nervous. Pretending as though she said nothing, she decided to go about her business, drinking from the cow's udder. Of course, that didn't make things less weird. Benson suddenly pokes his head through the barn door. It's obvious he's been eavesdropping again.

"May I suggest loosening the joints and screws on his throne so that he falls over and breaks his neck? The old fart did mentioned in the editorials that he would rather die there than on a deathbed. Mwahahahahahahaha." "Were you there this whole time?" Asked Nick. "Oh. Heavens no! I was just dropping by to... ...get Miss Oona! She must freshen up before she's ready to meet the king!"

Benson then separated the teen from the cow, and dragged her out of the barn. Jimmy, Nick, and Sally followed.

"Now, young lady, you go ahead inside and brush your teeth this instant! We've got a royal dinner to attend very soon!" Said Benson, handing Rodent Girl a toothbrush. "'Brush my teeth?' What's wrong with the smell of organic milk?" Replied Rodent Girl. "Come here!"

Benson then picked up Rodent Girl, and tried to brush her teeth by force. Jimmy and Nick decided to return the cologne bottle inside. As always, Sally followed behind them. The boys were surprised to see Mitzi, back from work early. She looked very upset, resting both of her elbows on the table. Nick took off his helmet to look less suspicious, despite still standing in full armor. Diana was comforting her. Her pupils shifted to Jimmy and Nick for a short moment, and then back into blank space. She was too pissed to question their silly "dress-up game." Out of curiosity, Jimmy quietly asked Diana what the problem was.

"Mitzi got fired from her job. The blacksmith industry recently hired a new man." Said Diana. "That's right, a man! One not very smart. One who absolutely has no qualified skills. One to only write 'Plz gimme a job :)' on his resume! Bloody King Jason and his bloody male dominated, privilege system!" Mitzi screamed.

She got so mad, she banged on the table, knocking off a bowl of fruit. Mitzi was the only one to have a job, and now she lost it. That was the only job left available in the village. If she had been a man, she would've have kept that job. She has been in blacksmith for 12 years, and now replaced with an inexperienced gentlemen. Diana can steal stuff, but she can't always find what they need, such as condiments, medicine, and toiletries. Also, the animals might die without food. This job was much more important to the Faithful Five than you think. Nick didn't want this to happen to his friends. Nick walked right up to Mitzi, reached into his pocket, then pulled out a bunch of coins. Mitzi was very intrigued. There were even six silver coins and a gold one.

"Take every single penny. And just to be clear; it's not you I'm helping, it's me and Jimmy's friends. So, spend this wisely." Exclaimed Nick. "Where did you get those?" Asked Jimmy. "Snatched them from the green hoods' campsite during our smoke bomb loot." "Why didn't you tell me about this before?" "Hey, I thought these would be worth more in our time than in this time. I was gonna split it with you, btw."

Mitzi looked at the coins in front of her. Demons never gave gifts to fool their victims, they only relied on manipulation. In their cases, children are the easiest to lure in. They never cared for money, and was only interested in robbing the youth from their childhoods. They keep shiny and valuable things to themselves. Demons would never spare change to a poor man. These creatures were merciless and sadistic. None of Jimmy and Nick's friendly gestures ever moved her, but this is one trait Mitzi is new to. Nick just gave away everything he had in his pocket, all to make sure her family stays healthy. A true demon would never make sacrifices. Despite that, she still feels she's not ready to fully trust the boys yet. Her entire life imprisoned, and tormented, by the demons for fourteen years. Mitzi accepted the coins, but didn't give out a "thank you," which is what Nick had expected. She then got up so she could fetch her basket for grocery shopping.

Jimmy climbed up Diana to whisper in her ear, letting her know that it's time to hit the road. Nick put his helmet back on, Diana combed Butterscotch's mane real quick, and Benson helped Rodent Girl rinse. Also, she spitted in his face afterwards. Jimmy, Nick, and Sally rode on Butterscotch, while Rodent Girl hitched a piggyback ride on Diana. Luckily, she was light as grapes to her. After the seven of them journeyed off, Sally had just remember that she forgot to introduce herself to Mitzi. Speaking of Mitzi, when she returned to the living room with her basket, everyone was suddenly gone. Not a single peep of sound heard. Something's not right.

  .............................

[*Meanwhile, in the twenty first century*]

The whole search party was camping outside of the Neutron household, waiting for their Cbae order to arrive. Hugh was role-playing family with his plastic ducks. Libby was listening to her playlist on shuffle. Carl was practicing magic again. Sheen had Goddard project more holograms while speaking into the voice module microphone, just so he could hear his acquaintances/rivals say what he wants to hear. And finally, Judy was showing Mrs. Dean some pictures of Jimmy through the photo album.

"Why is your son wearing a dress in this-"

Judy slammed the album closed.

"Okay! What say I get us some more snacks? Just notify me when the delivery truck arrives!" Said Judy. "No need for that, Mrs. Neutron! I have a box of Bossete's Intergalactic Twinkles™!" Replied Sheen, holding up his Ultralord themed snack. "Sheen, I love you, honey, but the cream filling of those twinkles taste like dish soap." Said Libby. "They do not! Dish soap is more light and tangy. Carl likes them!" "Actually, I only like eating the outside sponge cake. That's the most edible part of the snack." Spoke Carl.

Judy decided to just head inside and fetch those snacks. But before she was about to step inside, she suddenly heard a truck slowly roll in, and then come to a stop. It's here.

"Mrs. Neutron! The delivery truck is here!" Shouted Carl, Sheen, and Libby. "Sugar Booger! The nice, friendly delivery man has arrived!" Also shouted Hugh.

Judy ran up to the truck in excitement. The delivery man steps out of the driving compartment with his notepad.

"Delivery for, username 'bigmommyftw?'" Asked the delivery man. "That's me, young man!" Replied Judy. "Please sign right here, madam."

The delivery man then handed Judy his notepad, where she began to write out her signature. After that, he went into his truck to give her the item she ordered online. The man came out with a big, heavy box. Judy relieved the man of his pain by taking the box from him, and to his surprise, she was much stronger than she looked. He headed back into his truck and drove. After he left, Judy immediately cranked the box open with a crowbar. Instead of finding the machine in there, bits and pieces spilled out. They are suppose to build the time machine themselves. Judy searched among the pieces to look for the instructions. She found them, but with rotten luck, they were written in Korean. No matter how hard she looked through the pamphlet, all was in Korean. She tried to look for another instructional pamphlet buried in the machine parts, but the second one was written in Chinese.

"Anybody here speak Korean? Or at least Chinese?" Asked Judy.

Everyone said no, until Sheen had an idea.

"Wait! You don't have to worry, Mrs. Neutron! Luckily, I recently have installed this cultural translator app!"

Sheen grabbed the pamphlet from Judy, and then typed out the instructions onto his phone. Unfortunately, the translation came out wrong. Very wrong.

"'Apply extra lube before inserting the r.b. Johnson deep into the main combustion valve. Rock back and fourth to push in further, until it reaches that spot.' What kind of app did I even download!?"

Sheen uninstalled his app, went straight to the app store, then filed a very negative review, with a one star rating.

"Your app stiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinks! 😡😡😡😡😡😡👎👎👎 How do you sleep at night?!!1!!! Don't download, y'all!"

"Hold on, everyone! I once dated a Korean man, who was the owner of this 4 star Korean barbecue! He taught me a few words in his native language, so maybe I can make something out in those instructions!" Said Mrs. Dean.

Sheen handed her the pamphlet. She carefully scanned her eyes through the instructions on each page. Everyone looked at her eagerly.

"Okay, I know that this word means 'please.' This one means 'screw.' And this, I think, is suppose to mean 'nose.'" Mrs. Dean explained. "That's it?" Asked Judy. "Well, I never paid much attention to him. I only dated that man for free meats." "I think I know just the person to help!" Spoke Libby. "Who?" Everyone questioned. "Cindy! She studied about 50 different foreign languages! One of them includes Korean! Hang tight! I'll be right back!"

Libby then ran across the street to the Vortex house. She just hopes she can catch Cindy in her good mood.

................................

An angsty Cindy Vortex was slouching down in her beanbag, surrounding herself with comfort food and a two liter bottle of Purple Flurp. Humphrey was eating out of a bag of Corn Poofs. Cindy drank her tub of melted ice cream through a straw, while watching her new favorite reality TV show: Man Down. It's a show where women and teen girls get to take extreme measurements of revenge on their ex-boyfriends. She switched to this show after watching To Love Or Not To Love, a soap opera which aired an episode about a man promising to a woman that he will work hard to be a better person, and then begged for her forgiveness. Nothing seems to make her happy anymore. She's just too stubborn to swallow her pride.

"CINDY!" Libby burst through her bedroom door. "What?" Asked Cindy. "We need your help! We just ordered this new time machine online, don't question where we got the money, but we can't read the instructions! That's why I came to you!" "Well, it's not my fault Y'ALL forgot to read. (Everyone has gone stupid nowadays. Jimmy is the first)" "Huh- No no no no, we can't read the instructions cuz they're printed in another language! Please help us! Without that time machine, we may never be able to save Jimmy and Nick!" "What, did they get warped into another century by accident, or something?" "Yes! I have the security footage to prove it!" "Leave 'em. They deserve each other anyways." "Girl, could you stop thinking about yourself for once! All you've done is eat and behave sour at any human being in your contact! What did they ever do to you? I've had it with your depression over this breakup thing! This is a friend in danger! Not to mention, Mrs. Dean's only child!" "Excuse me? What did you say to me?" "We have to rescue a friend, plus a woman's only child who happens to be an acquaintance of ours!" "I wasn't asking about that!"

Cindy was so pissed, she crushed her potato crisps into dust. She got up from her beanbag and began to scold Libby, while making her walk backwards toward the door.

"You know, Libby, I thought you were very supportive of me! I thought you were one of the few good people in this world! But now, you reek of fink stink! You turned into them! For your information, I'm over the breakup! Neutron isn't my problem anymore, nor is he something to be dealt with! If I wanna sit on my butt all day eating comfort food, I can, cuz it's called self-respect! And I'm not sour! I was being confident! There's a difference!" "Cindy, I think you need hel-" "WHY IS EVERYONE TRYING TO TELL ME THERE'S SOMETHING WRONG WITH ME?! If you care so much about finding Neutron, why don't you make him your new best friend?!"

As Libby was now outside of the room, Cindy slammed the door. She went back to her beanbag and slouched down in it. She just booted her best friend out. Her other half. Her trustful conscience. All because she refuses to listen to voice of reason. It's her inferiority complex that's keeping her from admitting to her flaws. She is always fighting to be that perfect woman, but always feels she's not good enough in the end. She's mad at Jimmy for ruining, what she thought they had, a beautiful relationship. And she's also mad at him for thinking he's smarter than her. She loves him, but at the same time she hates him. They seemed to have gotten along very decently when they were friends, but Cindy feels romance always comes first before friendship. And she can't help it that she has developed feelings for Jimmy. No matter how toxic they were together, Cindy just can't seem to let go. But the more she keeps holding on, the more pain it brings her. Sometimes it's very important to move on.

Cindy began to look at a couple of camera photos on her phone. They were of her, and her best friend Libby. She had been her best friend ever since first grade. Libby was the one who invited her for coloring when her friendship with Betty Quinlan died down. (Will be explained some time later in the future) While Cindy was obsessed with working hard and being the best, Libby showed her how to have fun like a normal girl for a change, yet she never tried to get in the way of her goals. Libby was a respectful friend, and a supportive one too. She was one of a kind. Now, after Cindy brushed her off like that, she may never speak to her again. Cindy was now alone. Worse, she's still too stubborn to fix this problem herself. She didn't even wanna make a simple call or text on her phone.

.................................

While walking across the street, Libby kept looking over her shoulder, in hopes to see if Cindy would walk out that front door and apologize. The poor girl is worse than she was before. She thinks the whole world has turned against her when it's really trying to help her. But nobody can help her now. She probably wouldn't even listen to her parents. This behavior was starting to frighten Libby, which means she should stay away from her for awhile. Cindy is on her own now. But how long will it be before she actually recovers? When Libby made it to the other side of the street, she broke the bad news to her squad.

"Sorry gang. Cindy can't help us. ...for personal reasons." Said Libby. "That's okay, deary! We'll just make-do with this!" Replied Judy.

Judy handed Libby the instruction pamphlet. Confused, Libby looked through it, and every word appeared to be in English.

"You found an English copy?" Asked Libby. "No. Goddard just ate the Korean pamphlet, and then printed a translated alternative! *Whispers* Please don't ask how." Replied Judy. "And he liked it, too!" Shouted Carl, who then fed Goddard the Chinese instructions. "Well, what are we waiting for, squad? We've got a time machine to build, and there's no time for breaks!"

Libby should be happy at this moment, but it's hard to with Cindy on her mind. It would've been a true team experience to have everyone working together.

...............................

[*Elsewhere, in another time*]

The whole crew continued traveling down that path, catching awkward stares from random civilians they pass. Benson was clutching his purse tightly, sweating like a hog. He hasn't gone out in so long, he forgot how much he feared eye contact from strangers. Diana just casually smiled and waved, as if she were on a parade float. Rodent Girl had fallen asleep, which gave everyone the conclusion that Diana was carrying some human corpse. Jimmy and Nick seemed to be doing fine, as wellerr as Sally. Jimmy didn't look like he mind Nick holding onto his shoulders tightly. Sally watched from the back.

"Are you nervous?" Asked Nick. "A bit. Are you?" Jimmy asked back. "I know you can't tell by now from my helmet, but, yeah. A hella nervous." "Care to share that issue with me? After all, it is a genius's job to answer a lot of questions." "This other half of Jason's bargain, I'm a little anxious to know just what he wants from us. For all we know, he could be looking for blood, or a new heir. What if it's something that's impossible to find?" "Calm down, Nick. Please?" "*Sighs deeply* Alright, I'll cool it. ...for now. Though I'm pretty sure we don't have a plan." "C'mon, we have made it this far. Like, for example, you managed to pull the wool over the mine keeper's eyes, and then come home with some fresh, raw quartz. Bet that was really scary, huh?" "Very. And exhausting, too." "It's okay. Whatever task the king has in store for us, it probably won't be any more difficult now that you have me. And Diana. Perhaps Rodent Girl could make use to us, somehow."

Nick was highly flattered after Jimmy had mentioned "you have me." That was all the motivation he needed to calm down completely. Once again, Nick was blushing under his helmet. Sally grinned at the two. Their order of communication definitely sounds like the Wise Wizard and Silver Knight, from what she read in her dad's diary. After a long walk, they made it to the castle. The drawbridge was already opened, and King Jason was waiting for them right there, with some knights in his presence.

"Ah! I thought you'd never make it! Welcome, guests, to my humble abode!" Greeted Jason. "Even though some of us have already been here yesterday." Joked Nick. "*Snickers* I especially welcome you again, O Wise Wizard and Silver Knight!"

Diana, Jimmy, Nick, Benson, and even Butterscotch, were very awestruck by Jason's comment. Rodent Girl even woke up to say "What?!" Now the king? Jimmy and Nick turned their heads to Sally, who was giving them a smug expression. That annoyed them deeply.

"Uhhhhhhhhh, I'm afraid-" Benson was about to give his say, but then Jimmy cut him off. "H-he's afraid to setteth foot in thy stronghold, your greatness! He's an extremely shy type!" Jimmy explained. "Oh, your friend hast nothing to worry about. You can count on my guards to protect HER."

King Jason was really more horrible than Benson expected. Despite the obvious goatee beard showing, he called him a "her" just because he's wearing a frilly apron, holding a purse, and mentioned to have real humanly emotions. If it weren't for all those guards right there, and the fact that he is the king, Benson would give him "a man" by blowing five fingers to his face. Speaking of which, he wonders why Jimmy had cut him off. After Nick helped Jimmy off of Butterscotch, Benson grabbed him for a short, private, and quiet, conversation.

"What was the meaning of cutting me off like that?" Asked Benson. "Because, have a moment to think. If he knew we were just some commoner children instead of a couple of noble legends from the past, he's gonna give us all a field trip to the gallows." Replied Jimmy.

Benson thought, maybe Jimmy has a point there. That could clarify on why King Jason showed them mercy, even if they did break an entry and posed as an authority. To him, the Wise Wizard and Silver Knight are a gold mine. Everyone walked forward into the castle.

"Wait, you're bringing the horse inside?! *Points to Butterscotch*" Jason questioned. "Butterscotch is family! Wherever we go, he comes with us! Talk to the man, Jimmy!" Exclaimed Diana. "Well, he is an important part of the group." Said Jimmy, while shrugging. "Fffffff-fine. But I hold your friend in charge of cleaning up after it!" Scoffed Jason. "Houyhnhnm! (I'm house trained, you biased pompous!)" Whinnied an embarrassed Butterscotch.

While the king was guiding them to the dining room, they met a strange man in the halls, who was the new cook, chasing a white rabbit and bearing a cleaver in hand.

"Stuart! What is this mindless folly?!" Screamed the king "An ingredient is trying to get away!"