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naoa-ao3 · 2 years ago

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My Generation

The years had not been bad. Oh, there had been hard ships but nothing they hadn't been able to handle.

For Giles, he didn't regret any of them. He had a family and an interesting life. A long one in fact but as always, the past never truly went away.

He had forgotten to check his letter box that morning and it didn't occur to him to do so until late that evening. When he did, there wasn't much. An add, a notice from the Slayers. They wanted his advice. He set that aside. Another add. And then. . . a personal letter. He turned it over curiously. He seldom received letters any more. The kids. . . well they weren't really kids anymore, but they never sent letters. They texted and called or simply dropped by unannounced.

Amused he set the others aside and opened the letter. A lost art, he thought. Structuring a letter, penmanship, addressing. No one kept address books any more. This one had a name he didn't recognize on the return address.

Sitting down he slit it open and unfolded it.

"Dear Rupert,

I assumed you wouldn't open this unless I used a pseudonym and rather than take the risk I chose to go ahead and do so. So here I give you the big reveal, this letter comes from your dear old friend Ethan.

Now before you put it down I assure you it's in no way cursed. Well, perhaps for the postman. His night should be very interesting but for you it's safe. I need you safe old friend because I need to speak with you. Nothing serious, just two old friends and a drink. The address is real enough and you should be able to find me. I'm sure you've already decided to throw this away and not come but I assure you I'll be on my best behavior and I ask this now as humbly as I know how to. I want to see you. No tricks, no chaos, no lies or silly pranks. I will behave. I'm too old for a row anyway and from what I hear your back couldn't take it. But jokes aside I will be good if only you'll come. I'm old now my friend and I'm doing what old men do best, calling upon their remaining friends to relive the glory days. Do me a favour and give me this one night. I don't plan to bother you again. If you're willing, meet me at a pub called the Green Goat. It's in the town I'm staying at. It should be easy to find. I'll be there the night of the 22nd. Please come old friend.

P.S.

If you come I will lift the curse on the postman."

Giles rubbed his eyes. the letter had been rather touching up until the postage stamp. No tricks. Well, leave it to Ethan to give that his own meaning. He reread the letter and considered the idea. Perhaps Ethan had changed in his old age. The idea was preposterous. Old age be damned, people only changed because they wanted to and no part of him believed Ethan had ever wanted to change. He read it again. For all of Ethan's niceties he wasn't really being given a choice. He would go. He wondered if he would have gone if the postman hadn't been involved but no answer came to him. Perhaps, perhaps not. It didn't really mater. He would go. Checking the letter, he made a mental count, the 22nd was in four days. He hoped whatever was happening to the postman wasn't so bad.

And so, on the 22nd Giles found himself outside of the Green Goat looking up at the sign. Not an authentic. Made to look it yes, but a 20th century creation. He glanced in the windows but did not see Ethan. A figure in the back might have been him but he was sitting with his back to the window. Giles griped his cane and sighed. Feeling there was nothing for it he stepped in.

The decor was quaint, warm even. He found it appropriate and not too cramped. Scanning the faces, an old man caught his eyes and he realized he had been searching for a much younger face. After looking for a moment he realized that this was indeed Ethan. A grey haired old man with wicked, laughing eyes. The eyes gave him away.

He sat down opposite and cleared his throat. "Lift the curse, Ethan."

Ethan laughed. "Hello to you too, Ripper."

"The postman. . ."

"Already done. I had a spell alert me when you stepped into town."

Feeling more comfortable Giles sat back. "What do you want Ethan?"

Ethan twitched slightly, seemingly annoyed by his directness. Giles figured he'd probably wanted to make a dramatic entrance. "Just calling up an old friend. I don't think that's so wrong."

"Black mailing your old friends isn't quite the same thing."

"I didn't trust you'd come."

Giles nodded, that was fair. Well, not fair to the postman but assuming he would have come was. "And why are you calling me?"

Ethan laughed and motioned for a waitress. "A pitcher dear, and two glasses. The beer here's rather good."

"You're not answering the question."

Ethan paused a moment, irritated again by Giles's directness. "You never had any tolerance for theatrics. It was always one of your more boring traits. Very well. . . I had a whole dialogue worked out you know, but there you go again ruining things for me-"

"Ethan!"

Another look of annoyance. "Very well. . . I've got cancer." Giles's eyes widened. He had not been expecting something so. . . well. . . mundane. "Pancreatic."

"Pan. . ." Really, he had no idea what to say. Problems with demons, a pact with the devil. . . anything but this. "Ethan. . ."

"Oh, don't look at me like that. I don't need pity and you're dying too, just a little slower."

"R-really I- I don't know what to say. . ."

Ethan waved a hand dramatically. "Pft. I didn't call you here to discuss that. Terribly boring really."

"Ethan, have you tried treatments?"

A look of amusement. "Really Rupert, how well do you know me? I'm not going to spend my last days in a hospital on the half chance that one of their blasted treatments will cure me. I've always hated hospitals and I'm not a young man. I've only got maybe ten years left. Without the cancer that is. Why waste them?"

"There would have been a chance. . ."

"A chance. I didn't feel particularly inclined to try on a chance."

Giles looked down at his hands. "How long?"

"Do I have left? A couple months. The doctors said six. That was two ago. I know I'm dying. I can feel it."

"Ethan. . ."

"But again, I didn't call you to have you pity me."

"I don't pity you, I feel sorry for you. It's not the same thing."

"Well don't. We haven't even seen each other in almost thirty years. As I recall you handed me off to the Hitler Youth rather easily the last time I saw you."

Giles felt his jaw tighten. "You had turned me into a demon."

"All in good fun."

"My Slayer nearly killed me."

But Ethan had moved his beer to the side and had leaned across the table, smiling. "We did have our fun though, didn't we Ripper?"

Giles met his eyes but couldn't muster the energy to be as cold as he had wanted. "I don't know if I'd say your trying to kill me was especially fun."

"Oh please, remember the costumes? You can't tell me you didn't enjoy beating me that night."

Giles looked away. "Ethan. . ."

"The old Ripper came out that night. But then he never really went away, did he? You enjoyed hurting me."

"I was young. You've clung to the mistakes of my youth for decades."

"The mistakes. . . I saw you at your most free. Wild, uncaring, cruel to the world. No refinement but you had a chaos in you I've never been able to rival. A hatred."

"There's no one even left to remember it." Giles said quietly.

"No, there's not. Only you and me and we're, alone aren't we? No families, no children. No real friends."

Giles looked at him coldly. "I have a family. I have children. I have three. A daughter who became the strongest woman I have ever known, a girl who is one of the most powerful witches in the world and a boy who never quite realized just how brilliant he actually was. I had three wonderful children and they're my family. You could have had that Ethan."

For a moment, Ethan looked sad and the old face before him was twisted. "Come on Giles. . . it wasn't for me."

"Then what was? Your chaos gods? Where are they now?"

Rather than anger, amusement flickered in Ethan's eyes. "They don't grant mercy. They don't have compassion and I never expected such from them. I'm not a fool, I knew what I was getting in to. You felt their power once."

"That was years ago."

"Yes, a time gone by I suppose. We're old men now, no matter how much we hate it."

"I've never hated growing old."

"Oh please. I know you Ripper. The Watchers wanted to be old. They wanted to be old as boys but you. . . you weren't like the rest of them. You had fire in you. Anger. They could never understand that, the pompous stuffed shirts. You were alive."

"I was young."

"Yes and you had fun, didn't you? Didn't we?"

"Ethan I was so young. . ." He pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Don't be like them old friend. Don't be boring. It's the worst thing a person can be. I'm dying and I've got more life in me than they ever had."

"Ethan, you hurt people."

"Yes, and you did too."

"I stopped. I was a child rebelling! I'm an old man now, why are you bringing this up? Why are you so fixated on who I was fifty years ago?!" "Because I know who you really are and if I die knowing you lived the rest of your life denying who you are then it was all pointless."

"Pointles. . .?"

"So much wasted. You spent so long pretending. Being one of them when you never really were. "

"I don't know what you think I was. I grew up. I stopped being selfish."

"Yes you put on a suit and patches on your elbows and you stopped being exciting. My blood used to rush when you'd come over. All attitude and anger. Your eyes would glint with it. It was wonderful. It was intoxicating. I never knew what you would do. I used to say to people, let's go find Ripper, he'll make this night exciting."

"I was a child. People grow up."

"But they don't need to lie to themselves. You could change the way you dressed and the magic you preformed, you could speak all posh and make your father happy but I knew the truth and I saw it when I visited you in Sunnydale. You hadn't really changed. The anger was still there."

"Ethan you're dying, I don't want to talk about this."

"Then what do you want to talk about? My illness? My health? Because I don't."

"I don't know what you want from me."

Ethan paused. "It's lonely dying. The children never visit."

Giles raised his eyebrows in pity. "Mine do, Ethan."

"Yes, yours do." He snorted. "You didn't do badly did you? That girl, that Slayer. . . I knew you loved her. I could tell. In the way only a father could."

"I do love her. She's grown into a more wonderful woman than I could have ever hoped. I doubt even half of that's because of me."

"Probably not." Ethan laughed. Giles let it slide as the man's own bad humor. "I liked playing with you Ripper. We had our fun."

Giles looked down and sighed. "We did." He looked up and saw a spark in Ethan's eyes. It meant nothing, he was simply giving an old man what he wanted. He could admit it to Ethan if not to himself. "Perhaps it's best it all dies with us. All of our friends are dead."

"Well, the sordid dealings of two old men are meant to be forgotten. Give it two generations and we'll be only a blip in history. Hardly worth mentioning if anyone remembers at all."

"I would have thought that would have bothered you."

Ethan shrugged and Giles realized just how old he looked. Somehow, he was still seeing the boy he had first known. He wondered if Ethan felt the same. "I always try not to be predictable."

"An annoying habit."

"You once found it not so."

"Yes, and I was young and stupid."

Ethan smiled slightly. "You don't give me much, Ripper but I'll take the bones I can get."

"That's all your getting. Let it die Ethan. Let the past die. All of your tricks and all of my mistakes. No one needs to remember them."

"We're on death's door, Rupert and you're still ashamed."

"Our friends died."

"Yes, and I've made peace with that."

"It's not about making peace. You continued to use black magic."

"I worship chaos. I always have."

"Ethan, why did you call me here? To tell me you're dying? To bring up the past? It's pointless. I'm not who I was when I was sixteen and neither are you. Just die with dignity."

Ethan scowled. "Die with dignity? There's no dignity in death. I mean I'm sure there will be for you but I don't want it."

"Then I can't help you."

Ethan nodded, looking almost serene and for a moment they sat drinking in silence. "What do you think they see when they look at us?" Ethan asked after a while, gesturing towards the younger people in the pub.

Giles was startled and he looked around to see if anyone was watching. "I-I don't. . ."

Ethan laughed. "Calm down, I'm not asking if they see a pair of old queens. What do the young people think when they see two old men drinking together? I know what I thought when I was their age. Useless old pensioners, forever whining that the world had gone and changed on them. I thought it was pointless, their sticking around. It was my time to be young. The world had passed to me. I wonder what these people see when they look at us. The girls think the old are cute and the boys think 'that'll never be me'. They don't think about who we were. If we're still those people. We're relics to them. They don't think about the lives we've lived or the horrible things we've done. Just sweet old men, waiting to die."

"How very gloomy. never really gave them much thought, so long as they weren't telling me what to do." Giles allowed a small smile.

"Your hatred for being told what to do was always magnificent I doubt the young people today have that fire."

"Yes well. . . the world's passed to them. It isn't ours anymore."

"I don't particularly feel inclined to let it go. . ." Ethan huffed.

"I don't think we get a choice."

"I hate being old. My back hurts, my fingers don't work as well as they used to. I'm always cold. What have you got the cane for?"

"My knees aren't what they used to be."

"Horrid. Do you remember the song? Roger Daltrey, Hope I die before I get old? What was it called? The Who sang it?"

"My Generation." Giles smiled faintly.

"Do you think any of these people know that song?"

Giles glanced around. "Perhaps one or two."

"You were always good with a guitar. I'm not saying you were Clapton but you were quite good."

"I was rather proud of it." Another moment passed and Giles sighed. "It's getting late Ethan and I've got a long drive back. My eye sight isn't as good and driving in the dark makes me nervous. I think we should say good night on a positive note."

Ethan made a slight face but nodded. "I suppose."

Neither one of them made a move to get up and they finished their last drinks in silence before Giles finally tore himself out of the moment. "I suppose this wasn't such a bad meeting. I haven't turned into a demon yet."

"Give it time."

He glanced at Ethan sharply but Ethan raised both hands. "Just a little joke. I promised to behave and as much as it disgusts me I have." The laughter in his eyes died as Giles stood to leave. Ethan grabbed his wrist suddenly, eyes looking panicked. "Visit me before the end. Please Rupert. I'm only human and I'm alone."

Giles gave him a considering look before nodding. "Alright. Until then, Ethan." He left his old friend sitting there, he wouldn't visit. He knew that. Ethan probably knew that but he had said he would and sometimes that was all people needed to hear. He hoped it was enough but he didn't think he could bare to see the man again. Too much between them, too much past, too much anger. He couldn't do it.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

He tried not to think about it as the months passed but when four had come and gone and then a fifth he began to make peace with it. Ethan was dead and he was the last of his old friends left. Well, it was as it should be.

Around a year later however he found himself in London and as he was catching a cab back to his flat he stopped. Across the street, amidst the crowd. . . it couldn't have been. . . but he was sure it was. It was Ethan and the man caught his eye and smiled wickedly, waving. Giles felt his jaw drop as the face twisted into a grotesque parody of its former self. A vampire's smile.

Ethan was a vampire. Had he been in the Green Goat? He doubted it. As the figure across the street disappeared he shut his mouth. Of course, Ethan had always been a coward and. . . well it was unexpected. He shook his head, stomach feeling sick.

"You getting' in or not?" The cabbie snapped, pulling him from his trance.

He coughed slightly and climbed in. Ethan had evaded death.

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danses-with-dogmeat · 4 years ago

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Hey I love your blog! If it isn’t too much trouble, could you do one of the companions reacting to Sole getting an unsolicited dick pic?

FO4 Companions React to Sole Receiving an Unsolicited Dick Pic

So I know the ask said one of the companions, but I just did 'em all cuz I got carried away (as I always seem to). This was definitely an interesting one to think about, and suuuuper fun to write. Thanks for the ask!

I ended up doing a little scenario at the top that'll apply to all of the reactions, and just kind of give context for the fateful event to take place (since phones/the internet aren't really a canon element in FO, I put this scenario together instead.)

Given the nature of this ask, there's a just bit of NSFW under the cut!

Sole had woken up like any other day. Heading down the stairs of their Diamond City home to make breakfast, trying to be quiet in order to keep from disturbing their companion in the other room. However, as they passed their front door, they noticed something peeking out of the mail slot.

The paper isn't meant to come out until tomorrow...

Curious, Sole reached for the little white square of photo paper, and noticed some writing in the corner. There was an address and the words, "if you like what you see, meet me here tonight," accompanied by a little arrow pointing to flip the photo over. Their intrigue got the better of them, and Sole did as the writing suggested, turning it over for a brief second before immediately regretting it. They recoiled at the phallic image, their surprise evident in the small yelp they uttered in response to the sight before them.

They heard their companion stir from the other room, and then their footsteps sounded from behind as they approached questioningly.

"What have you got there?" They asked.

"Oh, it's nothing," Sole said, turning to face them, "just some mail, is all." Sole's words dripped with distaste, and yet... they felt an overwhelming need to share their unsightly discovery with the person in front of them.

"Wanna see?" They asked, mercilessly turning the picture so their companion could clearly make out the offensive image.

Cait:

*scoffs*

"What, they think that's somethin' te brag about? The damn thing's so wee, I almost couldn't make it out." She'd say with a smile, offering up her hand so she could take the picture and tear it in half. Cait effectively would make the decision for her companion in regards to the comment on the back of the photo. She knows this type of man, and she'd be sure that Sole wouldn't be meeting the asshole anywhere tonight. However, should she be able to sneak away while Sole is sleeping... Cait might just pay a visit to the specified location, where she'd surely give that asshole a piece of her mind, and at least one taste of her fist.

Curie:

Her eyebrows would furrow, and the synth would cock her head to the side in her confusion. Being locked away in a vault with three men for so many years, acting as their doctor, meant she had seen her fair share of the male sex organ. But now, Curie was confused, why did this man feel the need to send Sole a photograph of his penis? Was there something wrong with it? Did he want them to examine it? Sole was not a doctor...

"Why 'ave you received zhis, madame/monsieur? What does zhis man want from you?"

Once Sole explained, Curie would be quite upset by the concept.

"But... you did not ask for zhis, did not want it, and yet, he sent it anyway. Why would you want to meet someone like zhat? It seems very rude to me." She's still confused about it, and may ask a few more questions. Has this happened to Sole before? Does it happen often? Does anyone actually like to see such things when they are unprompted like this? If not, then why do these men continue to do it?

The scientist just wants answers.

Danse:

The soldier would physically recoil at the sight of the photograph, eyebrows raised high as he took in the image, before jerking his head and eyes away from Sole and the picture altogether.

"That-- that is highly inappropriate and an overwhelmingly vile display." He would say once he recovered from his initial shock, still refusing to look back towards Sole, "I suggest you dispose of that filth immediately. Why anyone would reveal themselves in such an unceremonious fashion is beyond me. You would do well to forget such graphic imagery. I know that I will certainly try."

He wouldn't even entertain the idea that Sole would go through with meeting the man behind the picture, but in the off chance that they decided to tell him they wanted to, Danse would spend the remainder of the day convincing them otherwise. He would almost be tempted to go to the location himself in order to lecture the man for his crude and inexcusable behavior, and blatant disrespect to his companion, but in the end, he decides that the man is not worth his time.

Deacon:

Ginger eyebrows would raise slightly over the frames of the glasses for the briefest of moments before he recovered his cool demeanor.

"Ah shoot, did the postman just put it right back into the mail slot? Didn't mean for you to see that, my bad. Here, I'll just deliver it myself."

The sarcasm was evident in his voice as he strode forward and plucked the photo from Sole's hand, examining it for just a moment, and grimacing a bit at the sight.

"Man, Dr. Rich Cockwood does not photograph well. I swear, it's bigger in person." He'd wink at them before glancing down at the picture again, scrutinizing blue eyes pausing to peruse the words on the back as he folded the paper up to put into his pocket. He'd quickly change the subject, trying to keep Sole's mind off the whole thing as he devised a way to sneak out that night and get some intel on the asshole who decided it was a wise idea to put Sole in this position.

Hancock:

*Squints*

"Oh shit. Looks like you've got an admirer there, Sole. " In his sleepy state, it took Hancock a minute to figure out what he was even looking at. Upon realizing that it was, in fact, what he thought it had been, he takes the picture from Sole's grasp and flips it around to glance at the back.

"Look at that, you've even got a date tonight. Must be somewhere romantic, I can tell this guy's old school." He nodded, flipping the photo over to glance once again at the offensive imagery on the front. "Yeah, real traditional, I'd say. Hmm... Mind if I tag along? Could be fun." There was a certain sort of glint in the ghoul's eye that made Sole's spine tingle.

Perhaps neither of us should go... Sole thought, noticing how Hancock's other hand toyed absentmindedly with his combat knife as he furrowed his brows at the photo one last time, before shoving the paper into the pocket of his coat. There was a certain sort of intent behind his actions that made Sole re-think even showing him the image in the first place. Hancock had killed people over less; that, Sole knew for sure.

MacCready:

"Ahh! What the heck are you doing?! I don't need to see that!" He'd squeeze his eyes shut just as soon as he was able to make out the photo, shoving his hands in front of him as though they would be able to push the image out of his mind.

"It's too early for this, what the heck is that guy's problem?" MacCready shuddered as he pulled his hands slowly from where they covered his eyes, glancing quickly at Sole before lowering them down completely, a relieved expression on his face as realized the picture was no longer in his line of sight. Noting his dramatic reaction, Sole considered toying with the mercenary a bit. They asked him what was wrong with the image, stating that perhaps they would pay this man a visit tonight. It had been so long since they had been out on a date, might as well go for it, right?

MacCready's eyes would simultaneously furrow, and widen at their words as he stuttered, finally finding his voice after a moment of shocked, choked silence.

"What?!" He exclaimed, "You're not seriously thinking of going, are you? That guy seems like such an ass-- Well, he just-- I mean..." He took a breath, and Sole had to bite their lip to hold back their grin. "Look, not that it's really any of my business or anything, but... don't you think you could do better than that guy? Like... a lot better?"

Sole couldn't hold back their grin any longer, but MacCready wouldn't meet their gaze. Instead he looked down at the floor, rubbing at the back of his neck with one hand, a nearly unnoticeable blush spreading over his cheeks.

"That guy just seems like a real jerk, and you? Well... Yeah, you deserve better than that, I think." He finished rather awkwardly, finally looking up to meet Sole's gaze before returning their coy smile.

Nick:

The synth would a have a brief moment of raised eyebrows as he took in the details of the photograph, and then the inevitable scowl of disappointment would spread across his face.

"You know, you'd think this guy would understand that no one in their right mind wants to see that particular... angle. You don't think that's his good side, do ya?" Sole would smile a bit at that, and as the synth turned to walk away from the offensive image, they told him about the writing on the back.

"Hey now, wait a minute. You're not thinking of paying this guy a visit, are ya? If so, that's a pretty poor decision on your part, I think."

Sole would shake their head, telling Nick not to worry as he fixed his inquiring yellow gaze on them. He nodded in response, seeming satisfied by their answer. In the next moment, a thought seemed to claim his attention.

"Hmm... I think I might just know the perp, actually. Ellie's got a few reports back at the office mentioning some similar events. Guess it's possibly one of the guards on night duty who goes around with these to see if he gets any takers."

Sole almost spoke up, but as they opened their mouth, Nick's words seemed to take their idea straight from their head. "On second thought..." He said, "You got any plans for this evening?"

Piper:

"Ahh! Blue! Why would you show me that!?" She'd physically cover her eyes with her hands, taking a few steps back and away from the picture for good measure.

"Look, I don't care what you do with it," she'd tell them, "just don't let me see it again!"

Sole would thankfully oblige, but before disposing of the image, they showed Piper the writing on the back. At the sight of the man's suggestion, Piper snatched the photo from Sole's hand, glaring at it furiously.

"Ohhhh no he doesn't. If he's sent crap like this to anybody else, I'm going to make sure no one falls for this."

And Piper kept her word, as the next morning's addition of Publik Occurrences contained a small piece written on exactly this subject, titled: To the Asshole who sent the Sad Little Picture to a Disgusted Citizen; No One Wants to See That! Sincerely, Everyone who has.

Preston:

"O-- oh! Um, that's-- okay. That's just wrong. Do you want me to get rid of it for you?"

Preston's face would wrinkle up in his clear distaste before bringing a a hand up to shield his eyes. When Sole had lowered the picture, he removed his hand, and looked them in the eye, refusing to pay the photo any more attention, but extending his hand out to take it from them so he could dispose of it properly.

"Are you... okay? I can't believe how rude some people are. Who would want to see that?" He'd flash a sympathetic smile at them, as he folded up the photo and prepared to throw it away. He didn't read the back himself, but if they told him about the words that were written there, he wouldn't even entertain the idea of Sole going, just shaking his head in disappointment at the man's poor and rude way of trying in vain to woo his General.

"Some people... The nerve. If you don't mind me saying, General, you deserve much better than that anyway."

X6-88:

His eyes would be locked to Sole's, but as they presented the photo to him, his gaze would fall to the image, and an ever so slight furrowing of his brows would take place above his silver eyes. A brief moment would pass, and X6's gaze would be back on his companion's face.

"Ma'am/ sir, why did you feel the need to show me this?" He's also quite confused, this was not a common occurrence in the Institute, and once Sole gave him an explanation, his expression would remain blank. For the most part, anyway. A small huff of laughter would escape him, prompting Sole to be the one giving him the questioning look now.

"If this filthy wastelander believes he can disrespect the future director of the Institute without facing consequences, he is sorely mistaken." He said, his gaze unbroken as he made Sole this promise, "Don't worry, I will take care of this filth at the specified meeting time and location. You will not hear from him again."

He doesn't necessarily intend to kill the man for his unseemly behavior; X6 is a courser after all, and he knew this man would be scared shitless if X6 were to so much as look at him the wrong way, but should the man make any... poor decisions in response to the courser's confrontation, well... certainly X6 can't be held responsible for the behavior, or the fate, of a mere stranger now, could he? Especially after his heinous actions.

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dennou-translations · 4 years ago

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Violet Evergarden Ever After: Chapter 3

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No one would imagine that a single drop could be the start of something so big. However, it would earn itself great meaning after a while passed. Should it continue pouring, it could also summon boundless blessings and curses.

Love was almost like rain.

The Journey and the Auto-Memories Doll

That one was a rain of betrayal.

It started with a calm morning, the sky unfolding without any hints of being enshrouded in dark clouds. Regardless, it did not take too long for the capricious rain brought by the heavens to turn into a downpour rarely seen in recent years.

There was no longer any sign of the rain that had started to fall like gentle kisses from paradise on the black hats of gentlemen walking around town, over the backs of cats dozing under the sun or onto the cheeks of children who opened their mouths and burst into laughter. The current season was the end of summer, and it was raining for the first in a long while in Leidenschaftlich, where the skies were constantly clear in summer, but had the god that controlled weather gone crazy? With time, as if a bucket had turned over, the city was hit by a flood.

This story is about an uneventful day, which did nothing but pass, in the lives of people who worked at a certain postal company.

The rain and wind struck the entire building as if attacking it. The doorbell rang loudly because of this, a man standing in place and staring at it with unease.

Creak-creak, the door moved. Ring-ring, the bell resounded. Since it was ringing despite there being no customers, he had become concerned and found himself coming down from his residence in the top floor.

In the previous year, the building had been shot with rocket artillery, and not only had it earned an enormous hole but a fire had also occurred – however, thanks to the quick skills of workmen, the hole was now closed and the walls had been neatly rebuilt.

The man was a stylish redhead. He was the president of this company, which he had named after himself.

Claudia Hodgins had been left all alone in the empty postal office. Still, it was normal for him to be there, as it was both his home and workplace. However, since he was by himself at a time that would usually still be within business hours, no matter what, he looked like he had been abandoned.

The postal office had been in great turmoil because of the storm. Surely, so had its peers. With the deliveries stagnated, complaints were coming from the clients. Nevertheless, the transportation was not carried out by machines devoid of feelings. It was something done by humans, who had been given birth to by someone and who had families waiting for them when they returned home. In lieu of the unpreceded disaster, as the president, he had notified all employees that business would be closed for today.

To begin with, the customers had stopped coming in the middle of the day. If he had to say so himself, this might be the expected. Deliberately going outside amidst such strong wind and torrential rain was an act of sheer madness.

Curious about what was going on outside, Hodgins had approached the entrance from the side. He felt like attempting to open the large doors just a little. He wanted to see how inundated the ground was. Just when he slow and carefully reached a hand towards it, the door opened with force despite him not doing anything.

“Ow...!”

“Oh, my bad. More importantly, we’re screwed; it’s just impossible, Old Man!”

Hodgins was teary-eyed as his precious nose took a hit. He was lightheaded for an instant due to the pain, but soon regained consciousness. After all, one of his employees had come back dripping-wet. Hodgins pulled him – whole body wrapped in rain gear – by the arm, bringing him inside and closing the door. Although it was only open for a few seconds, the entrance was already drenched.

The visitor took off the hood over his head, allowing his face to be seen. He was a splendidly handsome and fine man of sky-blue eyes and sandy-blond hair.

“Benedict...!”

Benedict Blue. One of the postal company’s postmen, who had been working in it ever since its founding.

“It’s impossible – actually, it’s absurd! Working under this rain is absurd! I look like I’m in the bath already. I wouldn’t have come here if I weren’t soaked... Making the staff pull out was the right choice,” Benedict said as if angry-yelling, shaking his head in the same way that a dog or cat would and splattering water splashes at Hodgins.

This wetted most of Hodgins’s shirt and face, but he was unable to reprimand his employee, who had been doing strenuous effort. He accepted it in resignation, wiping Benedict’s face with the sleeve of his shirt. “Okay, stay put.”

“Uoh, what’s with you? Stop.”

“Welcome home. I was worried. Good thing you’re all right.”

“O-Oh. What, hum... I’m back... You were worried about me?”

“Of course,” Hodgins said, to which Benedict turned away with an obviously embarrassed attitude after a moment of bewilderment.

Outside, vases and planters that may have been at the eaves of people’s houses, as well as shop signs, had been turning into weapons for a while now, dancing around the city along with the wind. Managing to come back unharmed and safely amidst this weather, where one could not know what would come flying their way, was something to be happy about.

“I’m just fine. This job’s easier than running around shooting guns. Anyway, I was left with the letters and packages of a guy who fell from his motorcycle and came back by myself. Was best to do that, right?”

“Aah, so someone got hurt?”

“That newbie, Clark. But he only scrapped his knees. He fell lots of times when he was learning how to ride, but for real, it’s surprisingly depressing when you fall off other than during practice. He was crying, y’see.”

“Aah~.”

Knowing who the person in question was, Hodgins pitied him. He was the youngest postman to join the company as of late. It was difficult to find human resources for postmen as they were quick to quit.

“He’s young, after all...”

“You call him young but... he’s already a grown man. I wonder if he ain’t lying to us about his age... I thought he was a baby or something.”

“You can’t compare him to a city boy fresh from the battlefield like yourself. I’m gonna get you a towel and a change of clothes now, so don’t move from there.”

“Why?”

“You’d wet the floor. Don’t tell me to go around cleaning up where you walked.”

“Clean it up,” he said while laughing, to which Hodgins’s shoulders slumped. He was a reliable companion, but also a young man who knew not how to show respect for his elders.

——Well, guess I’m a so-called doting parent for thinking that’s cute – no, doting boss.

Anyhow, they needed towels, Hodgins thought as he went back to his room. He grabbed a few large towels and held a pair of trousers and shirt that Benedict would apparently fit into under his arm. Then returned to the ground floor. By the time he did so, the number of people had increased.

“Uwah... Amazing, it’s like squeezing a rag.”

There were three more other than Benedict. If they were to be separated by types, one of them had evacuated after receiving a report of work, one had evacuated after finishing work, and one had been ordered to clock out, but all had come back halfway through, as their bodies were about to be blown off by the overwhelming storm.

“Please stop.” There was Violet Evergarden, whose golden hair was in Benedict’s grasp.

“Why? You said your hair was wet.”

“You just want to touch Violet’s hair, Benedict. Isn’t that right?” Lux Sibyl, who had given up on wiping her glasses and was glaring at the empty space.

“That’s not it. Don’t say weird stuff, Lux.”

“You knooow, my hair’s just as long as Violet’s.” And Cattleya Baudelaire, who scowled at Benedict with her arms crossed.

The members who had been there ever since the founding were Violet, Cattleya and Benedict, but Lux, having joined midway, was now a skillful secretary who covered up the schedule of the employees and president and moved them around like chess pieces. As the four people whose ages were close to each other’s came together, the conversation naturally livened up.

“You—You’re that kinda thing. If I touch you in a place like this, it’d be that kinda thing. This is our workplace, so there’s all that kinda thing. Morally speaking, it’s that kinda thing.”

“What do you mean ‘morally speaking’?!”

“I wish you wouldn’t say those things even if you think about them. Right, Violet?”

“‘Public morals’...? Benedict, what am I from your point of view?”

“V, you’re like a little sister to me... Aah, Old Man, gimme another towel.”

It was a terribly joyful thing that the company’s young aces had returned to it safe and sound.

“Everyone, don’t move from that spot no matter what. Hey, Cattleya! Don’t move!”

However, wiping all the water off the bodies of those four turned out to be a bone-breaking work.

Out of kindness, Hodgins invited the four people who had gathered up at the postal company to his residence in the top floor.

The whole floor was his apartment, thus it was quite large. A family of five could live comfortably in it. The furnishings were arranged in wooden items and serene shades of dark brown and green. It was a relaxed, adult atmosphere, where was nothing particularly funny. It had a faint scent of the perfume that Hodgins always wore.

The invited four let out sighs of relief. The biggest reason for it, although there was also the fact that this was Hodgins’s apartment, was that they were able to escape the horrible situation outdoors. With the exception of Lux, three of them were tough enough to take part in the act of physically crushing other postal companies, but human beings could not win against natural disasters.

“Hey, what do we do? We can’t go home anymore, can we?”

“There’s nothing we can do. We got no choice but stay in Old Man’s place.”

“First time something like this happens, huh. But we’re all together, so... might be imprudent of me to say this, but... it’s a bit fun. Violet, are you worried about your home?”

“Yes, about the flowerbeds.”

“You should say ‘about the people back home’, V.”

“The two went on a trip, so they are away. I promised that I would take care of the flowers in their absence, which is why... I am worried about the flowerbeds. Besides, if that house were to be destroyed by this storm, this place would meet its end much sooner... We have little time left to live.”

“Don’t go from talking about your family to destroying the company, Little Violet. Hey, hey, everyone, you’ll catch a cold so get changed first. Put the towels in the laundry basket. Benedict, don’t throw the towels wherever!”

As told by Hodgins, the employees firstly decided to change their clothes.

Violet and Cattleya had just returned from a work trip of two days and one night, thus they had a change of nightclothes in their bags, but Benedict and Lux did not. Although there was a height difference between them, Hodgins had no issues with lending clothes to Benedict, who was also a man, but there was a need for careful selection when it came to Lux.

“Shirt... shirt, shirt; all I have is shirts.”

“Hum, President, I’m fine with anything.”

“Eeh... that okay?”

As a result, the boy and girl came into the scene wearing baggy clothes. Benedict looked almost the same as when he and Hodgins first met. When he was left to chance completely naked in a desert, he had borrowed a shirt and trousers just as he was doing now. He seemed pleased with it, however...

“Feels kinda naughty...”

...the problem was Lux.

“Benedict’s fine, but maybe it won’t do for Little Lux? Is this okay?” Hodgins asked everyone with a meek face.

They all had at last settled down, each seated in a place of their preference while sipping tea. The employees were relaxing as if they were in their own homes. Contrary to the peaceful state of the situation inside, there was still a sound of rain hitting the windows and a troubled noise of something colliding against the building outside.

“What is ‘okay’ supposed to mean?” Sitting on the sofa, Violet tilted her head. Being comfortably dressed in a dusty-pink nightwear gave her usually disciplined self a slightly soft and gentle air.

“Little Violet.”

“Yes.”

“Your nightgown is cute, huh.”

“The people from the household bought it for me. Well, what is ‘okay’ supposed to mean? Was there any problem?”

“Little Lux’s clothes.”

For whatever reason, they had the person in question standing in the center of the room. With everyone’s eyes on her, she seemed uneasy.

“Hum... why do I have to stand in the middle?”

“Little Lux, stay like that and don’t move.”

“All right.”

“What is wrong with Lux’s look? You mean to say it lacks adornment?”

“Why would that be the case, Little Violet?”

“You are the one who chooses attires for us Dolls and you have particularities regarding the clothing and accessories, so I concluded that you might deem the plain shirt as not enough.”

“No, no.” Hodgins flailed both hands. The things he was saying had a moral value to them, out of fear that her outfit was perhaps vulgar.

Benedict had dealt with it by securing her trousers with a belt, but as Lux had too thin a waist, the outcome was the belt falling off. In short, she was not wearing pants. Inevitably, she was dressed in nothing but a shirt. However, her short stature fortunately made it look like a shirt-dress.

As Hodgins explained his concern, everyone said, “I see.”

Showered with their stares more and more, Lux began to blush.

“It gives off a dangerous feeling when you think she ain’t wearing any, but on second thought, isn’t that the same for skirts? There’s actually an open hole in them, but it’s not visible, so they’re classified as clothes. No big deal, is it?” Benedict had been standing with his back against the wall just a moment ago, yet had suddenly drawn close to her and started examining her fixatedly.

“Don’t say ‘not wearing any’!”

“Well, I mean, you really ain’t wearing any... but that’s okay. No biggie. You’re probably not an option for Old Man, so no worries. Right?”

“That’s rude!”

“I’m saying you don’t need to worry about that kinda thing... Should I take mine off, then? I see; I’m fine with it. I’ll be the same as you. That all right? I’m gonna take it off.”

“Stop, stop, stop!” As Benedict put a hand to his belt while laughing, Lux repeatedly hit his chest with her fists to stop him. Lux was red up to her ears. “I can’t take this anymore! Violet! Take Benedict to over there!”

“Understood.”

“Owowowow, V, ouch, that’s not it; it was the Old Man who said weird stuff first. We’re friends, so I was showing that she doesn’t have to get hung up over something like...”

Caught in Violet’s arms, Benedict obediently sat on the sofa. Perhaps in order not to allow him to escape, she gripped his hands and sat next to him.

Cattleya cut through the silence, “The tea is delicious.” She was scattered over the bed. She must have been tired from returning from the Doll business trip. Her eyes were downcast. She might be sleepy.

“Cattleya, do you not have any comments to make? I want to hear lots of opinions.”

“Eeeh, me?” Cattleya joined the needless debate as if it were a bother. “Hmmm... if someone were making her wear this because it’s their taste, it’d be gross indeed, but there’s no other clothes for her... It’d also be horrible to leave her with just a towel wrap, so I think it’s valid. Speaking of which, President...”

“Hm?”

“You’re saying that even though you pick open-chested clothes for my Doll outfits? And the times you were choosing Doll attires for me, y’knooow, you were never so considerate to say ‘not this, not this either’ when discussing it with the people from the made-to-order store...”

Her manner of speech was somewhat thorny, but Hodgins did not make much out of it. “That’s because they look good on you.” Rather, he said decisively, with an earnest gaze and excessive confidence, “Because they look good on you. Is my judgement wrong?”

“E-Eh?” Being replied to so unapologetically, Cattleya’s reasoning jumbled up, to the point she found herself wondering if she was the one in the wrong.

The Doll outfit that Cattleya usually wore was composed mainly of a crimson dress-coat, so there was no mistaking that one could not wear it unless the person was remarkably stylish. In addition, there was also no doubt that it was lascivious. Whoever looked at her would find their line of sight momentarily going to her chest. Still, whoever looked at her would remember the woman named Cattleya Baudelaire at once.

“No... it’s not like your choices are wrong... but I only forgive you because you’re the boss. I was shocked when you first showed me that outfit! I didn’t use to wear something like that before.”

“Well, but y’see, an hourglass-shaped person looks more slender when the area around their collarbone is exposed, and it’s pretty.”

An evident question mark floated above Violet’s head at the unfamiliar word. Benedict pointed a finger at the tea set arranged on the nearby table. An hourglass used to measure the time it took to steam the tealeaves was lying there. Perhaps finding the similarity between it and a plump chest and dainty hips, Violet nodded as if convinced.

“You’ve got an hourglass-shaped figure with that slim waist, so I gave you a coat-dress that puts this on display. You can adjust it with the ribbon, so it’s not a pain, right? It has a wonderful line in mathematical terms, y’know? Plus, you also have a cheerful character, so it doesn’t look vulgar. That’s important. It means that outfit takes into consideration even the personality of the one wearing it. And the owner of that made-to-order store is famous not just in this country but abroad. The outfits of our Dolls are on a whole different level in comparison to other companies, aren’t they?”

“Y-Yeah.”

“I don’t want to bring this up, but they’re very expensive.”

“Eh, I’m sorry. S-Should I pay you back? Either that or you can dock my salary...”

“No, you’re my Doll, after all. Nobody waters a flower to get money off it, right? It’s fine, Cattleya. Just stay pretty. It’s exactly because I have obsessions over clothes that I don’t want to make a girl look vulgar. And it’s exactly because I like girls that I want to have them shine wonderfully. That’s also why I have a few complaints about Little Lux’s usual plain clothes, though...”

“I don’t know why you decided to run a mail service, President, but I accept that passion of yours. I’ll wear those clothes with care. But, President, I’m doing my best, so I want a new outfit. A cute one.”

Listening to the conversation of the two in silence, perhaps tired of going along with her superior, Lux looked at Violet and Benedict’s direction with a gaze that quietly asked for help. There was a gap on the sofa that seemed enough for one person to sit. Having locked eyes with her, Violet told Benedict to scoot over after a brief moment and patted the open spot. Lux sat next to them, looking happy.

“Violet, what’re you drinking?” Lux peeked at the teacup that Violet was holding.

“I wonder. I took the tealeaves that were in the kitchen. I do not know what type of tea it is.”

“Darjeeling.”

“Benedict, how did you know?”

“‘Cause that guy likes Darjeeling. All the tea cans he has are nothing but that.”

“Guess I’m gonna drink that too; my body got cold from the long time under the rain.”

“Heeey, the three of you who ended the talk before we noticed! Listen to what I have to say.” Hodgins put his hands on his hips, pretending to be angry.

“We were deviating from the main subject. We deemed that it was not a necessary conversation and took action prioritizing Lux’s rest,” Violet expressed with a clear voice tone.

“Besides, this talk’s about bedroom wear, ain’t it?” Benedict added a two-fold retort. The blond, blue-eyed duo that looked like siblings stared at Hodgins with questioning eyes.

“Ugh, I comply with you two no matter what you say when you both look at me at the same time, so cut it out. But I’m not giving up. I think she needs one more article of clothing.”

“Hum... President, I’m okay with this. I’m already thankful that I could borrow your clothes. Besides, when you make such a big fuss about it, things that weren’t lewd in the first place start to seem lewd, so to say,” Lux said, wanting to end this topic as fast as possible.

“The solution has come to me. Wouldn’t it be best if I took the shirt and trousers and had Lux wear this nightgown?”

However, Violet wound up rewinding it.

——Violet!

Lux hit Violet repeatedly in her mind.

“Ah~, that’s right. If that’s the case, I can do it too. But maybe my nightgown is too big? It’s a negligee just like Violet’s. The shoulder length might be the problem for this one...”

“Old Man, you gonna die if you don’t obsess over the stuff we wear? You ain’t. Give up.”

“No way. Days like this one don’t come by. All five of us are trapped in the company and we can’t get out. You’ve got no choice but stay here in my house, right? We’re having the best of parties, a pajama party. I want it to be a good one. But I can’t enjoy it when I’m worrying over Little Lux’s clothes.”

Benedict contemplated a reply to Hodgins’s words for a few seconds, but soon stopped. He was probably tired. He looked Violet’s way and asked, “Hey, you not hungry? I’m gonna take a look at the kitchen.

“Hey, don’t ignore me.” As Benedict stood up, Hodgins chased after him.

“Benedict’s gonna make something? Yay! You guys probably don’t know this, but he’s good at cooking.” Cattleya lined up behind them.

“I didn’t say I was gonna make anything, though... Well, if you’re hungry, I can do it.”

“I shall assist you.” Violet raised her arms, rolling up her sleeves. Her prosthetics made a creaking noise.

“V, you can cook?”

“To some extent. In the military, I used to make preparations for the cooking. Mrs. Evergarden... Lady Tiffany also trained me on it.

“M-Me too... I can peel the potatoes, and stuff.” Lux hastily went after everyone. In a trail, a big move to the kitchen began to take place.

“Lux. You don’t usually cook, do you? I can already tell by just that statement. I’ll teach you.”

“Most things get solved just by peeling the potatoes... Benedict, you’re making fun of me, aren’t you?”

“Am not, Potato Demigod.”

“Violet, Benedict insulted me!”

“Benedict.”

“Owowow! V—! Don’t poke my sides! A hit from those crazy-ass prosthetics of yours ain’t no cutesy way to poke anyone! It just hurts like it normally would!”

In the end, Hodgins was able to find a light feather-print sweater in his closet and gave it to Lux. As she put it on, with her short stature, its length became the same as that of a long cardigan, which Hodgins was awfully pleased with for how adorable it was.

The madder-red sky was not visible at dusk, the outside morphing into evening with no changes in the rainy weather.

Benedict made a soup at random with the vegetables available in Hodgins’s kitchen, which had seasonings in abundance, while Violet and Cattleya supplied it with cookies that they had brought back as souvenirs from their ghostwriting business trip. Lux brought over small candy marbles that she kept stored in her desk at the company, and Benedict, instructed by Hodgins, reluctantly took an expensive bottle hidden on the liquor shelf of the latter’s room.

“Hey, let’s rummage through the desks of everyone in the company. There are probably gonna be other ingredients in them.”

“If it’s Mr. Anthony’s desk, I think there’s definitely something in it. Mr. Anthony always gives me sweets... We’re in a state of emergency so I’m sure he’ll forgive us for it.”

“There were sweets in the reception guys’ desks. Would they get mad if we took them?”

“Definitely seem like they would. But this sweet... is one of the tasty ones... I wanna eat it.”

Lux, who was still growing, and Benedict, who had missed lunch and did not have enough with just the vegetable soup, procured more food. The sweets that the hungry thieves sneaked from the company employees’ desks turned out as what could be considered a big catch, and so, the five people trapped inside during a day of usual rain commenced a night party.

The five of different ages, genders and positions were already at a state where they could be deemed as a single family through the many incidents they had overcome and the time they had spent together. They laughed a lot, talked a lot.

“You remember when Violet brought Lux over? She went to negotiate it directly with Old Man with so much might, like, ‘I have picked up a puppy. Please give me permission to raise it here. Now, hurry’. They were holding hands and she wouldn’t let go of Lux, explaining the situation all at length as if to say she wasn’t gonna move until he gave the permission. The way Old Man acted so suspicious back then was a real blast.”

“I remember~! He was like, ‘Eh, “demigod”? Eh, “abduction and confinement”? Have you told the military police about that?’... President was so troubled, walking in circles around the two. It was the funniest thing of that year.”

“Hum... I’m sorry.”

“No, no, don’t apologize, Little Lux. You’re our main player now, so you did what you could to get where you are. You really exerted yourself in this unfamiliar land. Work for us forever, ‘kay? Rather, for me. Little Violet does some unbelievable stuff sometimes, but she generally doesn’t do anything wrong, so back then, her first-time deed shook up even someone like me, with plenty of life experience. Saying no didn’t even cross my mind.”

“I knew that President Hodgins would give you a generous treatment. If I had not concluded so, I would not have done such a thing. Thank you very much for that time, President.”

“Little Violet... Little Violet’s all grown up too, huh; you’ve become a wonderful lady...”

“Well, she’s got you as her example of guardian figure, after all.”

“I was raised by both Benedict and President Hodgins. You are my examples.”

“Eh, so I’m Old Man’s son...? Gimme the whole company.”

“No way! Actually, you’re taking a part of the company in the future, so that much should be fine, right?”

“You were serious about that? If you split the company...”

“Yeah, I’ll be the vice-president. V, call me Vice-President Benedict.”

“Benedict will be... the vice-president?”

“Violet, you haven’t been to the company too often because of work, right? I’ll stay as President Hodgins’s secretary, but some of the employees will go to Benedict’s side. That’s gonna be pretty lonely... Still, the company will be built inside the country, so it’ll be close in terms of distance. But it won’t be the same building anymore.”

“Other people... will also be gone.”

“Did I tell you that my role’s gonna change too?”

“I have not heard about that.”

“I’ll be transferred to training the newcomers. Violet, you’ll stay as you are. Well, between you and me, if we were to debate on which one should be the instructor, it’d have to be me. I’m good at looking after others.”

“Cattleya will be... an instructor...”

“I’ll be here like always. The Doll department that Little Violet and the others are in will stay in the main office and you’re largely in charge of the numbers in our Doll department, so your role won’t change.”

“Sounds like I don’t make money when you put it like that.”

“No, it’s not like that... I’ve been keeping the right people in the right places since long ago, right? I asked you to do this because I thought you could be everyone’s big sis. Besides, wasn’t it you, Cattleya, who immediately replied that you’d to it when I said your pay would increase if you became an instructor?”

“Well, that’s because I don’t know how long I could keep on being a Doll. It’s a job you can do even when you get older, but walking up mountains has been hard lately. Probably because of my high heels.”

They truly laughed a lot and talked a lot.

In their feel-at-home looks, they played card games, discussed memories of their trips and laughed holding their stomachs at silly stories. The night went on and on and the heavy rain outside gradually subsided, but no one said, “Let’s go home, then”. Days like these were a rarity. They all knew this much.

“I’m having lots of fun today. It’d be great if it were always like this.” The words that Cattleya muttered with a big smile spoke for everyone’s feelings.

Whenever a fun feast reached its climax, the loneliness towards the fact that it was going to end would cross the corners of people’s heads. That applied not only to this day that God had granted them but also to matters in the long run.

Perhaps the company named CH Postal Company itself could also be considered a feast to the people gathered in it. “May this dream, this fun time go on forever,” they wished.

The dream had begun with Claudia Hodgins. He then picked up Cattleya Baudelaire, Benedict Blue and Violet Evergarden.

“Make sure to just lick it. So, how’s that?”

They had built the company office building in Leidenschaftlich and started it together. As the postal business was a privatized one and the competitors were many, nobody could predict at first for how long this company would continue to exist.

“This stings.”

A local customer then came, earning them a large-scale contract in the delivery business.

“Eh~, you okay, Violet? You’re better off as someone who can’t drink...”

Their Auto-Memories Doll activities began to stand out.

“But everyone is changing.”

“Doesn’t that have nothing to do with drinking alcohol? I drink ‘cause I like it. If you don’t, then stop.”

“That’s right, Violet.”

“No... Major has a taste for drinking during meals, so I had been thinking of learning to do it one day as well. You are all changing one after another whenever I blink. I have started eating with other people quite often at work as well. I, too, shall adapt...”

Along the way, a girl who would later become a brilliant secretary joined them.

“I see... Then I want to try drinking too. I’m a secretary, after all. I have to eat out with other people. What kind of taste is it, if you had to compare?”

Despite the major changes in the personal life of each, all of them had contributed to the development of the company, to the point that they spent every single day being busy.

“Close to that of a perfume. In that it is hard to swallow.”

There would surely be many, many more changes.

“Hey, I can’t approve that opinion. Big Sis here will introduce you to delicious drinks. Rather than being taught by a man, you should learn from me. Lux, you can’t yet.”

Surely, their fates would twist further.

“Eh~?!”

“Benedict, bring another one. And something to crack it open with.”

For people to gather up, an encounter had to have happened. That was what it meant.

“Aight, aight...” Benedict stood up from the sofa. He had been dragged into Cattleya’s scheme, in which she had planned the conspiracy of attempting to make Violet Evergarden consume alcohol, because he himself had complied with it.

“O-Owah. Old Man. You were here?”

“‘Were here,’ you ask... this is my house.”

As they came across each other in the kitchen, Benedict had let out a brash voice without thinking. The reason might be that he perhaps was seen grinning as he walked in. Despite his nihilistic attitude, he was happy to spend time with his friends.

“I-I know. I was thinking you were taking too long in the toilet...”

“Cigar.”

With the kitchen’s small window open, Hodgins was smoking a cigar. All of the women despised the smell, so he rarely ever let them see him smoking. Just when Benedict was thinking about how he had suddenly stood up and disappeared, there he was, smoking in secret.

——He only smokes when he can’t calm down, though.

There was no better day to relax with their companions, and yet.

“Hey, take a look outside. It’s so quiet after the storm... like the wind. Even though it was so loud before.” Perhaps due to him being a little drunk, Hodgins’s face was red.

“True... Hey, need more booze. Ain’t there anything easier to drink?”

“Eh, why? You can’t give it to Little Lux.”

“Cattleya wants to make V drink some. Well, ain’t it okay? I think it’s about time she learns the ropes. Dunno when we’ll get to drink with her again... and it’s better to have people you get along with teaching you this kinda thing, right?”

“Eeh... it’s still too soon. If you insist, isn’t it enough to drip a drop of rum into her tea?”

“Can you even call that a drink? Make it a degree higher.”

Hodgins gave a strained smile. “Hey, hey, her big brother figure shouldn’t be saying this...”

“I say it because I’m her big brother figure. I mean, we’re getting more rookies. She’s the highlight of our Doll department. Eating with people is part of having a big job. Before she gets involved with someone who wants to make her drink...”

“Does this have anything to do with me telling you to be the branch manager?”

Hearing a slightly icy voice coming from the president, Benedict blinked. “No... sorta.”

“She’s still a child, and I’ll definitely always be with her in those kinds of places, so it’s okay. It’s still early to teach her how to drink. Nope, nope.”

“A ‘child’, you say... well, she’s got a childish side, but she ain’t one anymore.”

“She is – you, Cattleya and Little Lux, too, are all kids to me. Because you’re quick to do this kind of thing if I don’t keep an eye on you... My, my,” Hodgins said, blowing out the tobacco smoke. Mismatched as it was for someone with such a mature appearance, Benedict could get a glimpse of childishness in him.

“You’ll keep trying to do that from now on too? That’s impossible; face the reality,” Benedict bit out incidentally.

Silence.

Benedict’s words were not wrong. The CH Postal Company was growing rapidly as a business. The fact that the postal company led by Salvatore Rinaudo had withdrawn from the postal industry in the previous year had a major influence in this. They now reigned at a pivotal position in Leidenschaftlich’s postal service. The CH Postal Company would soon account for nearly all of the commissions from the people living in Leidenschaftlich. Other than being busy with work affairs, there were even discussions about relocating the head office because of problems with waiting areas and break rooms due to securing new employees.

“Like, you and I are gonna get damn busy. The Auto-Memories Doll department is gonna be the main organ of the head office and my place will be ordinary mail, right? We’ll be teaching people how things go, and I’ll be doing deliveries too. You’re the one with the busiest role. Anything and everything’s gonna be relayed to you. Getting to be close to your employees like until now while doing all that is just...”

It was natural for a company that had become bigger to do a corporative split-off and for one of their employees to manage the branch office. Benedict was still young but had the power to bring people together. The task would not be an impossible one if they put a veteran of the head office in charge of taking over it. They could do this, Hodgins had decided, thus he came up with the proposal.

“The regular meetings and other stuff that I take part in happen in the head office... It’s not like we won’t get to see each other.”

“Everyone will have a different post and position. We won’t get to see each other. Same for you, Old Man.”

“If it’s work, I can adjust it. I’ll do my best to administrate everyone so that the employees can get a time every now and then to relax like this...”

“Old Man, even if you do your best, V’s dating that nasty-ass military officer, so won’t they get married someday? Dunno ‘bout it, but... that’s why it’s impossible to always watch over us in the first place...”

Silence.

“Hey, don’t clam up.”

What was being thrust at Hodgins now was something that he did not want to look straight at, despite thinking about and readying himself for it. That was what he was being told.

“Hodgins – hey, Old Man.”

It was something that Benedict Blue had the right to say, exactly because they had been doing everything together from the start.

“Hey, don’t take it in a weird way. I ain’t saying this to be malicious. You left the Auto-Memories Doll department in the head office ‘cause your wish to watch over V is a big deal, right? I get it. She’s special to you.”

“That’s not it; I—”

“But she won’t be a kid forever. She’s different from back when she started working, with you teaching her everything. She’s someone who’s gonna let go of your hand one day. She ain’t your real daughter or your girlfriend. Then, if you had to say what she is, at the end of the day, she’s your employee. You’ll part ways one day. If you don’t get ready for that now, will you manage to get over it if she marries into that bastard’s family and he makes her leave the company?”

“Will you manage to get over it?” The question ruminated in Hodgins’s heart.

Benedict had shot him where it hurt without mercy. He was a gun expert. His aim was precise and the bleeding made Hodgins want to hold his own chest down.

——Will I recover if I ever have to be separated from Violet Evergarden? Hodgins pondered earnestly over the question. ——I don’t know.

He truly did not know.

Bonds were things that could not easily break off once they had connected, yet reality, time and busyness unpityingly caused the existence of “friends” to grow far apart.

——To the point that I don’t know, I...

Surely, a day like this would not happen five years from now. Their place to return to amidst the rain would be somewhere else.

——It’s not just her, but also you and everyone else.

To begin with, they might not even be working in the company itself anymore until then. More of them would fall for someone, nurture their love and move their places to be in life to their “homes”.

Twenty, thirty years from now, it might be hard for them to even work. Or they would not be alive – there was also that possibility.

The one who was more aware of this than anybody else was Hodgins, the oldest of them all.

——I’m the one who’s farthest apart in age.

That was exactly why he did not know.

“I have no idea.”

He did not want to see it. Did not want to think about it.

“I have too many things that matter to me, so I can’t make a move anymore. Y’know, you... you might aught at this, but... rather than when you’re young, getting hurt becomes scarier when you grow older. You start losing the energy to do your best and heal. It’s tiring. Still...”

Hodgins had thought that the youth in front of him, who referred to him as “Old Man” on a daily basis, was probably going to laugh, yet Benedict was expressionless.

“Still...”

He did nothing but listen. His posture of properly listening at times like these somewhat...

——...looks like Little Violet.

“Still, I know I’m the one who has to get moving the most. I’m getting everyone involved in the things I wanna do. That’s why I do what I have to. I also counted on you, because I trust you. I left it in your care. But... that and my feelings for her and you guys...”

“I get it.”

“...are different things, right? Y’know, you’re... mean. I’m like a foster parent to you, and yet... Even if you understand my loneliness...”

While Hodgins spoke as if bursting out, Benedict put a hand to his mouth as though to stop him. “I get it.”

Time halted completely.

Was he supporting the flustered figure of the one who was like a parent to him?

“My bad.”

Before he had noticed, he was carrying a load of things he must protect. Was he doing this due to realizing that he had left Hodgins to chance, thinking, “That’s because it’s him”?

“My bad. That just now was on me.”

Silence.

“I didn’t have to pick today to say this. Isn’t that right?”

“You think I’m being lame right now, don’t you?”

“Nah, you ain’t all that cool in the first place.”

“That’s a lie; I’m a generally-acknowledged beautiful young man... no, beautiful middle-aged man.”

“You might not be cool, but well, that’s what’s good about you. Right?”

Silence.

“The cool thing about my Claudia Hodgins is his uncool side.”

Since Benedict was speaking as if to comfort a child, Hodgins told him to “shut up”, slightly annoyed, yet burst into laughter nevertheless.

The rain caused all sorts of things to pour. The way that people were drowned by the drops trickling down from the sky inevitably made them think about something.

As dawn broke, Claudia Hodgins sat up, body heavy from not getting much sleep. When he peeked at his room’s bed, Violet and Cattleya were sleeping wrapped in the same blanket. On the sofa, Benedict was scattered about, snoring in a way that made him want to laugh.

Hodgins looked for where Lux Sibyl might be. He went down from the third to the second floor, and then from the second to the first floor. She was nowhere to be found.

While thinking it could not be possible, Hodgins opened the front door, and sure enough, he could see the figure of a girl walking down the street towards him.

The clothes she had put to dry yesterday were surely half-wet. What was it that she wanted to do outside so badly to the point of going this far? He understood when he saw what she had in her arms.

“Ah, President.”

Lux was holding a paper bag with a lot of bread in it. The amount was enough that the small girl’s face could not be seen.

“Little Lux... could it be you went to buy us breakfast?”

Thinking back, this young woman was the kind of person who was always quick to act when she was trying to do something for someone. That was all it took to be a considerate person, but without kindness in their heart, they would not turn out this way. The reason why Hodgins had nominated her his secretary was not just that she could do any sort of work.

“That’s so nice.”

“Yes, the bakery owner is very nice. I woke up a bit too early, and when I went on a walk to see how things were outside, the bakery was just about to open and they were getting ready... I went to take a look ‘cause it seemed so delicious and they told me to come in.”

“Ah, hm...”

“I was so touched when they said they baked bread for people who were hungry early in the morning, so I told them many thanks for selling them and bought lots of it. It’s the bakery from that street around the corner.”

“As expected of my secretary. Did you properly get the receipt?”

At those words, Lux showed him a smile that resembled a blooming flower. “Huhu, of course.”

For Hodgins, who had spent the night deep in thought about all sorts of things, that smile was a soothing one. It was like the water of a lake for someone who was feeling thirsty.

Hodgins wordlessly took the bag from Lux. “Little Lux, I’m seriously glad you came to us.”

“Only in this kind of situation, right?”

“All the time. Always. Little Lux, you’re still young, will probably keep working with us... and you’re such a good secretary... I’m the happiest CEO in Leidenschaftlich.”

“Are you going to hire me for life?”

“Eh?”

“Is that a no?”

“No, I could. But that’d mean working with me for life, y’know?”

“Is that bad? I have nowhere else to go.”

When asked with such an innocent look, Hodgins faltered.

“I won’t say the stuff Benedict does, like wanting the company for me.”

“Well, I might... end up giving it to you if you say that, so don’t ever. Hahah... Of course, keep working for us forever and always at my place. Huh, this is kinda like a marriage vow... Wanna take this opportunity and marry me in the future? Just kidding...” Upon thinking that the jest that came out incidentally was an unsavory one right after saying it, Hodgins looked at Lux’s reaction, only to find her staring back at him blankly. He had made himself into a caricature of an old man bothering a girl. “No, it was a prank! But hey. Little Lux, you might be the only one who can go along with me, so having this kind of small talk is... I-I’m not looking at you with dirty eyes, really! We’re too far apart in age, after all! We’re c-close enough that we can crack this kind of joke to each other, right?”

Lux pretended to think for just a few seconds. “Huhu, I can tell. That it’s a joke, at least. But not happening. We’re not getting married.”

And then, she flat-out rejected him.

“Ah, yes.” Although Hodgins would have been at loss if she had accepted it, his shoulders dropped somewhat.

“But President, I’m prepared to nurse you if you ever become unable to work.”

“Don’t... suddenly thrust such a cruel reality at me.”

“Eh, is it? From my point of view... this is quite a deep form of love. President, you’re the first decent adult who accepted me. I’ll devote my whole life to you.”

“Little Lux, you sure like me a lot. Gonna marry me after all?”

This time, Lux actually grinned and replied, “I’ll take that one home and consider it.”

“Amazing; that answer’s like the business talk at the company.”

“Because you’re teasing me... even though you’re well-aware that I don’t even know love yet.”

“Don’t know love yet”. The destructive power of those words caused Hodgins to regret his lighthearted proposal a little.

“Then, I’ll ask again in about five years. I should be at a nice middle age by then.”

“You say that, President, but you’re going on a trip with some hottie next week. I know it.”

The duo, who somehow seemed like they would or other be hanging together for a long time, returned to the office with bouncing chatter.

In order to make breakfast for everyone together, Hodgins and Lux stood in the kitchen by themselves.

Besides the already-baked bread, they would need drinks and vegetables. Those were merely simple preliminary preparations, but Hodgins felt that just this was somehow enjoyable, unlike doing the work on his own.

“President, you have yours with one sugar cube and a slice of lemon, right?”

“And for Little Lux, it’s two sugar cubes with milk, yeah? I know it.”

While arranging the bread on a plate, they also poured water over the tealeaves and left them to steam. Perhaps due to the scenery that could be seen from the kitchen’s small window being a blue sky with not a single cloud in it, it was awfully dazzling.

“Good morning.”

The next person who appeared amidst the morning sunlight was Violet. Her soft golden hair was just a bit disheveled. Hodgins’s hand naturally reached out to it.

“Morning... You’ve got a bedhead, Little Violet.”

“Excuse me...” Violet looked back at Hodgins as he caressed her head, seeming a little embarrassed. Her eyes were just slightly red. She might have not been able to sleep very well.

“Morning, Violet. Are Cattleya and Benedict also up?”

“Benedict was awake until a while ago, but when I got up from the bed, he began sleeping again by Cattleya’s side.”

“Morally speaking, it’s that kinda thing. I’ll go give him a warning.”

Hodgins laughed a little, seeing Lux off as she walked away while rotating her tiny shoulders. He then turned his gaze back to Violet. Her bedhead, which he had supposedly fixed with the caressing, had returned. For some reason, both of them being alone like this in a kitchen bathed in morning sunlight struck him as extremely peculiar.

Just the two of them, having such a tender time. How many more opportunities would they have for that?

They were already at it. He should talk about something. That was what Hodgins thought, but the words did not come out of him. Not because he had no topic to discuss. He could come up with as many things to talk about as he wanted, such wanting flowers to decorate the table or that they would surely have many customers today who were unable to come yesterday.

But he did not want to spoil this morning. He felt that it might crumble if he spoke even one sentence.

Violet was there. She had her blue eyes directed his way, looking at him. It was no longer awkward for the two of them to stay silent. That was their relationship.

Perhaps still sleepy, she was in a haze. He wanted to watch her standing amidst this gentle time for a little longer.

As she would usually always seem wide-awake, Hodgins believed that she was laidback to this extent due to being in the presence of people with whom she could be at ease from the bottom of her heart. That he had played a part in this feeling of security of hers.

——Will you forget one day?

One day, the position that Claudia Hodgins occupied in the life of Violet Evergarden would become smaller.

——She only gets bigger on my end, though.

Going to the hospital numerous times. Pushing her wheelchair. Giving her a notebook and teaching her how to write.

——I for sure can’t forget. These moments, days, everything like this with you.

The fact that he had not stopped her from fighting in the war. That he had thought they could use her.

——I can’t forget.

Delivering to Violet an outfit that could hide her prosthetic arms, yet that would also make her look her most beautiful.

——I’m sure I won’t forget about this morning either.

About that quiet morning, which was much like the one from before everyone was caught in the great storm and barged in.

Hodgins touched Violet’s hair again. Although she had told Benedict not to touch it, with Hodgins, she all but slightly left a strand in his hand’s care and let him take it, almost like how a cat would do.

——Aah, I want to hug you.

He was not in love with her. That would never be the case.

However, if she were his real daughter, on days like these, mornings like these, he would have easily said, “Good morning, precious” and embraced her.

“I had a dream, President Hodgins,” Violet whispered out of the blue with a freshly awake, faintly hoarse voice.

“Dream...?”

The stunning young woman, who was no longer a girl, talked about her dream like a child, “Yes; in the dream... you owned a clothing store.”

“Huhu, that so?”

“I cannot make clothes. You told me that you did not need me, President Hodgins, if I could not make clothes...”

“That’s horrible of me, huh.”

“Even when I said I could polish the shoes, clean up or do anything, you did not listen...”

Unlike the real one, the dream version of Hodgins had apparently chosen to part ways with Violet.

“Little Violet, what did you do about that?”

“I asked countless times. However, you rejected it countless times. I thought about standing in front of the shop until you allowed me in, but it started raining like yesterday.”

“Hm. And then?”

“Major Gilbert came to pick me up and told me to come home with him, but...”

“Hm.”

“I waited for President to come out of the store even as the lights went out.”

“Hm.”

“Despite waiting and waiting, President Hodgins did not come out, and at some point, a passerby told me, ‘This shop has moved’.”

“Even though it was open until just a moment ago?”

“It was a dream, after all... And then – and then, I asked where it was and went after it. Benedict and Cattleya also appeared in-between, but they seemed to have other things to do, saying they would come after me later... As for Lux, she was the only one who had been hired by you from the very beginning, so she also asked you to hire me again, but in the end, you said no could do.”

“Hm...” Suddenly, Hodgins felt so pained about everything that it was hard to breathe. “And then, Little Violet, what did you do...?” His hand reached out to Violet.

“I kept looking at the interior of the store beyond the shop window from outside.”

Not towards her head, but towards her eyes, where her golden lashes fluttered like the wings of a fairy.

“Inside it, many people – people that I know and do not know – came and left... showing how lively the shop was.”

A sea had silently formed in them, which dissolved and disappeared once Hodgins’s index finger touched it.

“Major came to pick me up for the nth time and said you had told him that my standing there was causing him problems. But, for whatever reason, I at the very least knew that if I stepped away from there even for a moment, you would never let me in... therefore, I could not comply. But I did not want to trouble you, President, so I was unable to make a decision... I attempted to ask Major for instructions, but he was also gone before I realized.”

The sea – the teardrop – turned into a pearl and slipped down her cheek.

“I... I... ended up crying.” Violet stared at the sky, the look in her eyes seeming almost as if the scene from her dream was there at this very moment. “To think I would cry like that...”

“Hm.”

“That was why President Hodgins would not hire me, I thought... And also why Major had grown tired and left.”

“Hm.”

“Then, without my notice, you came outside. You looked the same as that post-war day when you went to visit me at the hospital. You were very surprised with my appearance, as I was soaked with mud and rain. And so, you said this: ‘Guess we’ll start with how to hold a needle’. You told me that you had not invited me for the new job because it would surely be difficult with these hands of mine, so I was extremely relieved... Then, then...” Violet’s words cut off at once.

Unable to hold himself back, Hodgins pulled her into an embrace as if shoving her little head into his chest.

While being embraced, Violet said with eyes that looked as though she was still dreaming, “...with some effort, I could still be helpful. I was able to confirm this, after all.”

Hearing her let out a relieved sigh in his arms, Hodgins forgot about both his and Violet’s positions, clasping her to his chest very, very firmly. “You sure are helpful... Was there anything about me that made you feel uncertain?” Upon realizing that his voice sounded tearful, Hodgins allowed the tears to overflow at the truth.

——Aah, I’m such an idiot. Got caught up in it and ended up crying too.

As the girl whom he thought of as his own daughter, despite her being an actual adult, had shed tears, he found himself crying along with her. Almost like a child. Even though he was supposed to conduct himself as an elder in this situation.

“I do not know.”

“But, has anything like that ever happened until now...? You had that dream because you were uneasy.”

“‘Uneasy’... That might have been the case. Yesterday night, I came to know that many things were progressing while I was away, so I have the feeling that I was quite agitated.”

“Sorry; we were doing things on our own accord. Even though we’ve been together since the founding.”

“No, I am often absent, and it is only natural for some things to be decided in the meantime. I am an employee. I feel that your judgement is correct. Employees must correspond to the changes of a company. My surroundings are about to change significantly. I am grateful to you, President, for letting me be here like always. However...”

“‘However’...?”

“However, I do not know if I can cope with it. With the matters regarding Major, the ones regarding the company... with the fact that Benedict will be going to a different office building. When I think about these things...”

“It’s okay.”

“When I think about them, I realize that the number of things I should prioritize has increased too much.”

“Little Violet.”

“The order of priorities...”

“It’s all right.”

“I have to deal with situations of every kind as I live, and yet...”

——Surely, Violet Evergarden wouldn’t be alive if she didn’t do that.

Always, at all times.

She had been living through corresponding to her surroundings despite being at loss regarding its circumstances, putting everything she could do to use while looking for a place to belong and an adult who would take care of her. She was not allowed to waver. For beasts, hesitation was death.

Violet did not know unconditional love. She now had at last earned herself this warm place through her efforts, but it was about to suffer a rapid change with the course of time.

After running, running and running, Violet – previously one such beast – was watching the nest she had finally found crumble down. Even when people knew they had to prepare to start running again, there would come a time when they would be short of breath and unable to move.

Violet had gone from wild animal to person.

Her human parts and animal parts co-existed, occasionally revealing themselves. When she was the animal, she simply did not mind how much a place changed as long as she could live in it. However, it was difficult to live while holding something better, more important.

Now that she had become a person through the increasing of her emotions...

“I shall fight. I can always be of use. President Hodgins, please forget this aspect of me that I just showed you.”

...she had turned into just a girl who was a little bit scared of the future.

“Please... forget about it.”

Who had made her this way? Gilbert was likely the first, but the ones who had done the finishing touches were definitely all the people in this place.

“No way, I’m not forgetting.”

At Hodgins’s words, Violet lowered her eyebrows, looking troubled.

“Don’t make a face like that; I’m not teasing. I meant to say that you don’t need to worry about it. You indeed might’ve gotten weak. But is that a bad thing? You had nothing when you met me for the first time. Not even your brooch, right...? But now you have lots of things. You went on a journey for a long time and got more stuff to shoulder while you were at it, so it’s no wonder that you’d end up in a dilemma.” Albeit knowing that Cattleya, Benedict and Lux were looking at them in shock from the shadows at the doorway, Hodgins went on, “You know... life is a journey. Little Violet, you’ll go on this journey, won’t you?”

He had already forgotten about his anxiety. The feeling of frustration at such things and the overwhelming wish to cling to someone were now gone.

“You started your journey with a little less luggage than other people, so you’re staring at your bag now that it’s gotten a bit heavy, wondering what happened to it. You don’t know what to throw away anymore.”

He was able to think, from the depths of his heart, that he had returned to his usual self. While embracing her, who was indeed still young and confused in the middle of her journey, he was finally able to think so.

“You need clothes and money, of course, and good shoes are vital. Right, and an umbrella too. When you look into your bag and realize that you actually have nothing that you can get rid of, it’s indeed a problem. Even though it’s a hassle because it’s so heavy. What do you think you should do?”

He could still be useful.

“Train... my physical strength... No, calibrate my prosthetics...”

He was still needed.

“You’re such a fool... Either leave it in someone’s care and continue the journey or have someone take half of it.”

Even if it were only for a short while.

“Gilbert will probably take half of the luggage. I can take care of the rest that you can’t carry over here. I’ll be in Leidenschaftlich forever, after all. Little Violet, no matter where you go, I’ll stay here and wait for you to come back, and no matter when you come over, I’ll welcome you. I’ll take care of the contents of your bag with pleasure.”

——Even if you only remember me a few times a year someday...

“Listen up: whenever you’re troubled, remember that I’m here. And then you’ll be able to go on a journey again anytime.”

——...I’ll ready myself to welcome you at any time of the year.

“Am I really supposed to leave my luggage here?”

——I’m the kind of man who can do that, and you need it for sure.

“Hm-hm, that’s not it. Y’see, this is about memories. All you have to do is to know. That I’m here. This is the way to make your luggage lighter. Whenever you’re having problems, bam, remember me. If you do that, the worries you have now will definitely decrease a little. Y’know, at the end of the day... people’s place to come home to aren’t places, they’re ‘somebody’. You should know that much. You’d have gone to any battlefield if Gilbert was there, right? Someday, yes, you might quit being an Auto-Memories Doll. You might not come back to Leidenschaftlich.”

——It’ll be great if this “someday” never comes, though.

“But your current memories are with me. I’ll be a representation of them. So that you, my dear... will be able to open your memories anytime. When this moment right now becomes nostalgic to you, come see me. I’ll always be here. Waiting for you. You’re feeling ‘lonely’ right now. But... Little Violet. You have me. You’re not alone.”

——I want you to remember.

“I do not understand very well... However...”

——I’m always protecting you.

“...you have always guided me.”

——Waiting for your return.

“I never doubt your word.”

——I’ll be waiting here.

“But, President Hodgins, I have only one wish.”

——I want you to show up when your journey ends.

Deciding to deal with the sobbing coming from behind the door later, Hodgins opted for staying like this for just a bit longer. Her lover might get angry if he saw it, but he had the right to do it, at least to some extent. After all, she was Claudia Hodgins’s dear employee.

Hodgins asked with a particularly gentle tone, “What would it be, Little Violet?”

Violet blinked and looked up at Hodgins. The last drop spilled from her eyes.

“If, only if... there comes a time when you will quit the postal company and start doing something else...”

“Hm.”

“...please call me. No matter where you are, I will rush to you.”

“Hm.”

“I will definitely be of help... Even if not, should your luggage become too much, please call me when you need someone to carry it for you. I shall hasten to visit you.”

“For real?”

“Yes. I, too, will carry President’s luggage. You should know it. I am strong.”

“Huhu, yep, definitely. One day, you’ll understand what I mean by ‘luggage’. Hey...”

“Hiya, I’m Hodgins. What’s your name?”

Silence.

“This kid’s such a taciturn.”

“She... doesn’t have a name yet. She’s an orphan with no education. Can’t talk either.”

“That’s so terrible of you. She’s such a beauty. Just give a name worthy of her.”

“Little Violet, thanks for meeting me.”

Love was almost like rain.

#violet evergarden #fyeahvioletevergarden #veedit #kyoani #kyoto animation #violet evergarden ever after #claudia hodgins #benedict blue #cattleya baudelaire #lux sibyl #akatsuki kana #takase akiko #my translation #novel

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deepende · 4 years ago

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SINoALICE x NieR Replicant - Weapon Stories

A complete compilation of all weapon stories from SINoALICE’s NieR Replicant collab... well, the ones that has lore to do with NieR anyways.

Whatever grammar mistakes/translation errors belongs to Pokelabo, and you will tell there are some. Most are stories are pretty self-explanatory tho.

Grimoire Weiss

We fought for what seemed like ages. To kill those things that took a twisted human form. To protect those precious to me, with my own hands. We were deceived for so long. Deceived by people in a land we've never been, whose faces we've never seen Issuing orders from a safe distance. We must have been in love. And despite the fact I couldn't save you, but I never got to thank you for saving me. These fragments glimmering deep in my depths... they seem to be the vague memories of people... the faded remnants of human wisdom... H-hold on! I’ll have you know my name is not “Booky Wooky!” You may call me "Grimoire Weiss" I am a great compendium of ancient wisdom. Treat me with respect!

Grimoire Noir

My name is the Black Book. Are you the king who will lead the world to salvation? Don't be so surprised, Your Majesty. For me, it is a simple matter to speak human words. I sympathize with your distress, Your Majesty. On this occasion, however, we have no choice but to let them deal with your sister. When sorrow overtakes you, you may come to me and speak of your tribulations. Reading is an admirable pursuit. Your Majesty--for me?? I shall peruse this volume if it comes on your recommendation... What is that? You think it odd for a book to read a book? Noir? I would prefer to dispense with this nickname. My name, Your Majesty, is the Black Book. I am a grand tome of human wisdom... thus, to refer to me by such a curious moniker is, dare I say, inappropriate.

Kaine’s Sword

She was slender, with smooth, white skin. The hint of a dark shadow in her expression highlighted her beautiful features. But something about the sword in her hand didn't seem to fit the picture. Anger, sorrow, hatred. When emotions overwhelmed her, she would swing the sword, so there was never a lack of blood to quench its thirst. The problem was that she couldn't put the sword down. A heart and body in constant conflict. No one in the world could understand her. And loneliness was eating her alive. The long war came to an end, and darkness devoured her. But her heart remained at peace. Because she faced fate in the arms of the one she loved.

Halua Head

File_25_10: Update Soon twins will be arriving. There is nothing at all in the white-walled, prison-like room except for a white bed. If only there were something to do in there... File_25_12: Update I went to look in on them, and the girl was kindly encouraging her anxious younger brother. The two of them had heavy expectations to fulfill. The weight of all humanity's hope bore down upon them. File_26_06: Update The day of the experiment, the girl passed me a letter. To the very end, she wanted someone to watch over her brother. Once I agreed, she quickly ran away. Report: Human Weapon Development Things seem to be progressing as expected with Experimental Subject A (Sister), but her condition has changed drastically. In her present state, she seems to have no sense of self. I am urgently beginning work on Experimental Subject B (Brother).

Devola & Popola’s Staff

－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－ Dear Popola, Thanks for that soup recipe! My mom loved it! －－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－ A note received from a child in the village. Does this mean they are developing a sense of self? －－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－ Dear Popola, Thanks to the medicine you gave me, I'm feeling a lot better, though I can't leave home yet. Just sending a note to say thanks. －－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－ According to our records, humans wrote their feelings down on pieces of paper, and sent them to others. Where did they learn to do such a thing? －－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－ Dear Popola, I like you a lot. Will you be my girlfriend? Waiting to hear back. －－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－ I simply cannot understand the things they have written on these scraps of paper. I feel an unfamiliar feeling, my heart saying “no”… －－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－ Dear Popola, Sorry I couldn't tell you in person, but I'm coming home late tonight. Go ahead and sleep if you're tired. －－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－－ Ah, Devola. No need to worry about me this way. Tee-hee.

Favorite Pot

Yonah, I learned a special recipe! When you eat it, all your injuries will be gone! Oh! I want everyone to feed it to those they care about!

The ingredients are deer meat, sea turtle eggs, fresh veggies and herbs from the garden, and lastly tons of scorpion claws! Next, fill a pot up with all your ingredients, place the top on, and let it simmer overnight! The white steam rising from it is just so mesmerizing. ...Oh! I think it's ready! Smell for a soft scent when you take the lid off. That means it's done! I can't wait to give it to grandpa.

Transience

"Rule 0: You have the right to disband a rule by vote." I am the king's aide and second-in-command. Until now, all rules have be absolute, however, a "Voting Rite" was held where citizens could vote to change rules. Now, let's see what sort of ballots were made...

"Rule 451: Consuming alcohol is forbidden during the daytime." And stated as the reason is: because I like drinking... Because it's anonymous, all these votes are based off selfish desires. We need to improve the system somehow that reflects public opinion.

"Rule 356: Royal inquiries are limited once per day." And stated as the reason is: because I long to be with the King more...? Could this Fyra's vote...? No. Of course not. She's not the type to be interested in love. Moving on...

"Rule 68: The King's aides are to forever serve at his side" Reason being: Thank you for all your hard work. You deserve a break once in awhile... Could this be from the King himself? I'm honored to have stood by your side all these years. And the citizens of this country are proud of your work. There's no doubt of it.

Note: After rigorous deliberation, "Rule 451: Consuming alcohol is forbidden during the daytime", the most voted for rule, was repealed.

Grimoire Weiss ver.1.224

My name is Grimoire Weiss. I am an ancient tome of profound wisdom. After awakening from my long slumber, I traveled the world with my most beloved friends. She was a woman lacking respect for her elders. She'd continuously talk down to me, calling me nothing but paper and even set me aflame. However... Her rash words were also the driving force that moved us all. He was a compassionate and gentle boy who loved his friends. His manor of dress was odd, but his kind words warmed everyone's hearts. This I know to be true. I wonder if he, too had felt any relief from his sins. He was a cheeky guy, but not one you could just leave behind. We've been through a number of rough times together. I'd tell ya about it, but... I'm running out of time. If... If only I had an arm... Then I could have...hugged...him...

Grimoire Rubrum

It's the silk of fate. Knowing you, I shall begin living a life of truth. It's the forbidden fruit. Protecting you, I shall sink into wisdom's abyss. Those are the flames of anxiety. Thinking of you, I shall endure eternity's darkness. That is a reunion of bitter tears. Who are they? Why is it not me who's besides you?

Kaine’s Dual Blades ver.1.224

I craved it. Blind violence and blood-thirsty carnage. And I found it. I finally found it. A vessel stained with anger and hatred, seeking vengeance for the murder of her parents. I possessed that woman and gave her "power." That power turned the woman into a beast. One swing of her blade was enough to cut through stone and her grazes healed in an instant. She began downing every foe before her in the name of vengeance. I was delighted to witness the fruition of my desires. The woman's destruction didn't end there. After having her revenge, she continued to exert her "power" for the sake of her friends. Along her journey, her anger and hatred showed signs of waning, however, I gave it no thought. All I desired was to continue bathing in her bloodshed. Because her body has reached its limit, her power has lost control. Still, in the midst of the clashing of blades, I could feel her desire to protect her friends. Yes, this is the violence and carnage I crave. But why is it deplorable and empty?

Devola & Popola’s Spear

Upon hearing an old lady from the village caught a cold, I immediately collected my medicinal herbs with some boiled water, and rushed out from the library. I nursed her and remained by her side until her symptoms calmed down. She was extremely grateful for it.

I read a picture book to a group of children from the village. It was of an old tale about a brave, courageous man who triumphs over evil. I watched their expressions alternated between joy to sorrow to the story's pacing. I'm glad they enjoyed it.

Devola and I performed a song for the people at the village tavern. In addition to the regulars who drank there, elders and children were part of the audience. At the end of our song, the entire crowd smiled and cheered.

Every day Devola and I have been staying late at the library thinking of a plan to make life easier for the villagers. They're indispensable "vessels" for the project, so we need to do what we can for them.

Letter to the Postman

I was in a dimly lit cabin when I met a kind man. He taught me how to write a letter. What should I write on a blank piece of paper...? ―――――――――――――――――――――――――――― ――――――――――――――――――――――――――――

Apparently, a letter should start off with the name of the person you want to give it to. Of course, I'd want it to be his. I hope he'll be able to read my sloppy handwriting... ―――――――――――――――――――――――――――― 　　Hans ――――――――――――――――――――――――――――

At the end of the letter should be the name of the person who wrote it. Of course, that would be the name he gave me. Is it odd my chest feels warm writing it...? ―――――――――――――――――――――――――――― 　　Hans 　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　Luiz ――――――――――――――――――――――――――――

And in-between these two names, I'm supposed to write how I feel. And tell him what I want the most. I wonder if he'll be happy to receive this...?

―――――――――――――――――――――――――――― 　　Hans, Thank you　Thank you　Thank you Thank you　Thank you　Thank you　Thank you 　Thank you　Thank you. Luiz ――――――――――――――――――――――――――――

#nier #nier replicant #sinoalice

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lets-imagine-fanfics · 4 years ago

Photo

Prompt: "Why Me?" at a Destroyed Factory in a time when Time Travel was widely available with Arthur Morgan. [Arthur Morgan x Reader] [GN]

Words: 2.5k

A/N: This is an odd one but I like it :D, thanks for the request! I hope you all like it.

~~~~~~

With the alarm blaring by my bed, I roll over with a groan, just another day working at home in my PJs... and not seeing anyone... again—damn pandemic. As I was going about my day, I heard a knock at the door; curious about what or who it could be I, opened the door.

There stood a man wearing suit pants with a pocket watch at my front door, a slightly brown shirt with the sleeves rolled up and braces. He carried only an envelope that he held close to his chest, it had browned with age, and the corners had had a beating it was that old.

The man paused for a second, leaving me to stare at him while in my pyjamas - which I had just remembered. "Your name, it wouldn't be (y/n) (l/n) would it?" the man asked, curiously.

"It is, and what's your name?" I replied, not understanding why this man was here if he was a postman surely he would have just posted the letter.

"I work for the post office," so he was a postman. "and I've been waiting to deliver this letter for the past 30 years, it is our oldest letter..."

"That's nice..." I say, not sure where this conversation was going or why it was even happening.

"It's addressed to you," the man says as he hands over the letter "and it had been originally sent more than a century ago."

"Is this some kind of joke?" I ask, unsure as to whether I want to take the letter or not, "A prank?"

"No!" The man insisted "No, I just wanted to deliver the letter personally, to see who it's addressed too. Good day, (y/n)" at this the man turns around and leaves, heading back to his rather fancy car.

I watch him leave before I shut my door, looking at the envelope, it was indeed addressed to me, and it had pages and pages but on the very first page was a note, a single note.

"Meet me here, at 04/01/2021 at 4 pm.

Coordinates: 53.4814195, -2.22865000000002"

I was curious for a moment, but as I scanned the next page of the letter and accidentally saw the last page, I instantly knew I had to do as the letter asked.

The letter said I could only read one page at a time; it was more like instructions and as much as wanted to read the next page, I followed the letter's instructions.

~~~

On my second train journey to get to the coordinates, I quickly looked up where they were leading me again, it was an abandoned factory. I suddenly fell into the rabbit hole researching the factory - there's an old ghost story were workers would disappear, there were even eye-witness accounts saying they would vanish into thin air.

I read through the next page again; there was information that only I should know so I was still freaked out but the curiosity of why a person from over 100 hundred years ago, can know me so well.

As I carry my backpack off the train, I follow the phone as it takes me down side streets through the town centre. The anticipation is KILLING me, so it feels like I have been walking around for an hour now.

~~~

Eventually, I get to the abandoned factory, The road to it was surrounded by overgrown grass and trees that covered the sky, and there are several gates padlocked. I needed to climb over one of the fences with brickwork that had slightly crumbled down - just enough to get a leg up.

After rereading the next page, I take a quick look around, I've read that they don't even have a guard here, but the house down the street sometimes would ring the police if they spotted anyone trespassing - but if you went down the side further into the trees they can't see you.

When I got to the inside of the building, I followed this letter that the postman had given me,

"Second Floor, East Wing, Room 204"

I head in there, and I can feel the energy off of something that I couldn't see anything- in fact, I could barely see anything anyways the room was so dark, soot on the walls from cent, I walked closer into the room.

~~~

"I wouldn't move any closer if I were you."

I freeze, heart racing, I didn't think anyone else was in here, I certainly couldn't see anyone else.

All of a sudden, a match was lit, showing me dark eyes under a 'Ten-Gallon' hat as the stranger lit a cigar.

"I... I didn't think anyone else was here" I say honestly. "Just me and my friends" I lie.

"It's okay, friend, I ain't gonna hurt you," said the stranger, he spoke as if he was from an old western.

'friend?' I think as I squint through the dark to get a better look.

"You address me like you know me, do I know you?" I ask, unsure whether I want to keep talking to the stranger stood in the dark, abandoned warehouse - No, I do not.

"No, but I know you." The stranger replied.

"Is that so, well, I'm just gonna find my friends, I'll be back in a sec" I lie again, finding a polite excuse to leave.

"You don't need to lie to me. You haven't read the next page of the letter yet have you?" the strange cowboy said more than asked.

"You...How... You know about the letter?"

The stranger walked closer, walking into a patch of sunlight, I could see them more clearly. They wore a scruffy beard, a blue shirt and... gun, they had a gun, 'god I hope it's a prop' I thought, maybe I had walked onto a film set.

"You should really read the next page of the letter." They could sense my hesitation to take my attention away from the stranger. "It's okay. I'm going to stay here where you can see me."

~~~

I read the next page, which told me to read the page after too, this page explained that the stranger in front of me was a man named Arthur Morgan. A man who was not going to hurt me told me I should trust him since he is a friend, a good friend that I just hadn't had the opportunity to get to know yet.

As I read the pages, I kept looking up to make sure the man-Arthur kept his promise; he did, he was watching me as if he had seen me read this letter a million times before.

"As I said, I'm not going to hurt you" Arthur spoke up.

"Yeah, I know... I just read it." I felt like I wasn't really here.

"Yeah, that pesky letter. I bet ya have a couple a questions?"

"A couple? Yeah, more than enough" I replied, getting frustrated. "Why do I have this letter? Who Sent it? Why did it lead me here? And not that I'm judging but why are you dressed like a cowboy? And plea---se tell me that's not a real gun" I realise my voice had gotten louder and louder. This letter I had received had been weird from the start, but now it was too much.

Arthur chuckles, and I oddly find comfort in it but at the same time get more annoyed. "Okay 1) It is crucial that you got this letter and that's all I can say on that, other than..." Arthur contemplates his words. "it's gonna help some people, maybe even save some." Pause. "2) ain't gonna tell you tha', just tha' it's from a good friend, is all. 4 and 5) Because I am, and it is, is that a problem, darlin'?" Arthur says with a smirk as if he had won in some way.

"You missed 3" I reply smugly, "You missed question 3" I repeated, completely ignoring his comment.

"I was saving the best 'till last is all," He said with a roll of his eyes.

'the cheek of this man' I think as Arthur walks closer to the window, wiping dust and soot off of it, just enough for us to see in the room. He finishes and walks towards me, as he does, he gestures to the centre of the room.

"You can feel it, can't you? like a pull and a push all are the same time." Arthur asks. I can only nod, wanting to hear the explanation, Arthur continues, "It's a time..." He paused "oh what did they say it was again?" This time, speaking more to himself than me. "A time rift, it's a time rift."

"Okay... and what does that mean, exactly?" I ask, trying to understand.

"Listen, I don't know this crap okay, they just told me what to say, beyond that I have no idea. It basically means that... that time is weakest here."

"Meaning... what?"

"Meaning... Well, meaning we can go to one time and then to another... Not very frequently though, It can take a lot outa ya."

Suddenly we heard the gate outside creek open, scraping against the concrete. Arthur quickly grabbed you and dragged you to the closest wall, both of you ducking down underneath the window.

The police officers were chatting outside and weren't going to be there for a few more minutes; the letter explained that I should have enough time - if I did everything correctly and listened to Arthur, that pesky neighbour must have seen Arthur at the window before.

~~~

"What do we do" I whispered to Arthur, panicking slightly.

"It's okay, darlin', we hav'ta go through the time rift" Arthur whispered back.

"Why?"

"To get away from the coppas, to help the.. the people, like I said"

"I mean, why me? if you need to help people maybe get a doctor or nurse."

"It has to be you, okay and I can't explain why just yet, only with time will you understand, okay."

"Will I be able to come back if I go into the time rift thing, will I be able to come back?"

"Darlin', you won't ever wanna come back," Arthur said smugly despite the circumstances.

"Arthur," I said in a rather fed up voice.

"Okay, yes, you can come back... if you wanted to."

"And people need help?"

"Not just people, erm, ma friends, my team - if you will, even me."

I looked at him for a moment; I believed him wholeheartedly for some reason.

"I'll help you," I said in whisperer as I heard the police officers enter the building. "What do I do?"

"Well, you gotta think of the date and the place that you are going too, I brought a photograph with me." He said as he pulled out the picture, "You can keep that, jus' give it back to me later. So you gotta think of this place on this date and walk into it... It's that simple."

"Okay, come on then," you say as start walking toward the centre of the room, closer to the rift.

"Sorry Darlin', I'm not going to the same place as you."

"What, but you... you said I am going to help you, how am I supposed to do that if you aren't there" I argued.

"I'm gonna be there, just a few years younger, more arrogant and much more dashing." The police started walking through the second floor, having cleared the first floor. "You gotta go now; I'll be seeing ya, don't worry. Now go"

I stare at the cowboy again, he seemed sincere, and he was. He did mean it when he said that I could come back if I wanted, and I visited my family once a year for a month or so, but the wild west has been more home from this day forward.

He was also right about being more arrogant too.

~~~

As I landed on the firm grassy hillside, feeling as if every atom had been broken and put back together, I cautiously stood up. Turning around, I hear muttering from just over the hilltop.

I looked over the hill; you saw a giant campsite for at least 20 people; it was like a small town.

"Looks like we got a nosy one," A familiar voice said from behind me "what's your name darlin'... and why are you dressed so.. Unique like."

I turned around recognising Arthur Morgan as he sat atop his horse, a hide on the back. "Erm, hi" I reply as I realise this Arthur doesn't know me. "it's a long story, but if you're willing to listen and maybe read this..." I say as I show the letter that went on for pages and pages.

Arthur slowly warmed up to me; he didn't read past this page that I had yet to read myself; he was respectful of that at least.

Arthur spoke to his friend and gang leader 'Van Der Linde' about let me stay, "They'll be my responsibility." was all Arthur had said, with a nod and a grunt his friend walked off before following with...

"Get 'em some clothes, they look ridiculous."

~~~

Arthur was rather sweet to me, he showed me how to hunt and gather food - also how to cook it, just wait for the stew it is rather good.

I helped Arthur redeem himself and his name - which took a lot of work, but it was worth it.

As I said, Arthur took me in, and we grew close, years later we settled down on a farm and lived an honest life which we're both happy with.

After about a decade together we realised it was time... We had to send me/my younger self through the Time Rift. We travelled day and night for a week in order to reach the old factory, which at this point was just a few years old and bustling with people.

We snuck in through the back exit and said we are health inspectors on a new programme, here to check the disappearances. As soon the factory was being built, people started to go missing - no one had ever been that tall before, and so no one had managed to go through the rift before.

They let us in instantly and even walked us up to the rift, we were left alone for a moment as I said goodbye, he would be back I wasn't sure when, and he would see a me that didn't trust him, that didn't even know him.

After he went through the rift, I headed back to our home, where I hoped beyond hope he would make his way back home - he does.

So as I write this letter to you, hoping that you won't cheat and flick through the pages as time travel can be a tricky subject - I know you read the last bit of the last page.

I am you, from your future and I need your help.

#LIFics #Prompt Subway #Red Dead Redemption 2 Imagine #red dead screenshots #red dead x reader #arthur morgan x reader #red dead 2 imagine #arthur morgan imagine #gender neutral reader #gender neutral!reader #arthur morgan x female!reader #arthur morgan x male!reader #male!reader #female!reader

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pidayforpi · 5 years ago

Text

Brother’s Sentiment

“Abner...why did you come all the way here?”

“Mr Whitewater Duck, a mail for ya.”

Abner “Whitewater” Duck had never been fond of his family. That’s why he chose to live alone, in a rural small town, instead of the bustling metropolis of Duckburg. He never showed up in any family gathering, nor sent his family a letter or a card. Abner was a loner, and he loved it that way.

The other Ducks had also learned not to disturb their lumberjack relative. They wouldn’t send a letter without a reply letter. They wouldn’t give an invitation only to be rejected or outright ignored. They knew Abner was a loner, and they knew he loved it that way.

But when the local postman handed him a letter sent directly from Duckburg by air, he knew he probably should read it before burning it in the campfire.

“The rich geezer or the broke bloke?” Jay questioned the confused duck. The blue jay bird only knew Scrooge and Donald, the only two relatives to have visited Abner in his faraway town. Abner actually guessed the sender to be one of them. But he was wrong. It was from someone he didn’t know.

“From Hubert and Dewford Duck.”

“Dear Cousin Abner,

Your brother would like to see you. Please come to Duckburg as soon as possible. Meet us at the McDuck Manor.

Love, Your Cousins Huey and Dewey Duck”

“Woo...Someone’s getting high-class...” Jay slyly commented, before receiving a shove from his friend. “Hey! Do you read your clients’ letters?!” Jay let out a chuckle while fixing his postman hat.

“Anyway, it seems like your lil’ bro is dying to meet ya. You should probably go-“ Jay stopped when he noticed the usually loud Abner had gone silent all of a sudden, his eyes covered by the brim of his hat.

“Need me to help send a reply, Whitewater?” Jay quietly uttered, confused and a bit scared by his friend’s unusual meekness. Abner sniffed softly, adjusting his hat with one hand and picking up his axe with another.

“No need. I will give them my reply in person.”

———————————————————

Abner felt like Duckburg hadn’t changed much. Autumn in Duckburg was gloomy as usual, or so he thought. He had not been to the city for half a decade.

Fethry was the only reason for him to go to the city. His younger brother was the only one in the family - and in his social circle - that Abner cared about. Fethry had always been the oddball of the family: He was not as thoughtful as Donald, not as brave as Della, not as lucky as Gladstone, not as helpful as Gus, not as creative as Kildare...

While Donald and Della were out adventuring, Gladstone was non-busily finding $20 notes on the ground, Gus was helping Grandma Duck (and himself) at her bakery, and Kildare was painting the town red (literally)...

Fethry was just lounging by the pond, daydreaming. At the end of a long lumberjack training day, Abner always joined his little brother by the same old pond, watching him look up to the crimson sky, look down to the bottom of the water. The brothers just silently lay down on the ground, until the orange sky faded to black, and Abner held his sibling’s hand as they walked back home under the starry sky.

Abner knew that Fethry, unlike himself, was never a loner. Fethry enjoyed company. Fethry yearned to be recognised. To be appreciated and be of use to others. Yet, being the anomaly of the bunch, talentless and a slow-learner, Fethry had nothing to offer.

“Not even our family give him a place to be in...” That might be one of the reasons Abner never felt the need to bond with his family.

Abner ignored the light mid-autumn rain, and walked down the streets to his uncle’s place with his brown hat covering his head. It was noon in Duckburg, yet the roads seemed lifeless and sad in the shower.

Abner picked up his pace, lest the shower became a downpour. He buttoned up his leather jacket, and hurried to the manor overlooking the city.

(7-3-2020)

———————————————————

“Pst...!Over here, Cousin...err...”

Despite not hearing his name, the voice of a child caught Abner’s attention. He turned to his right, and saw two young ducks hiding next to a bush.

“Dewey, you signed the letter. It’s Cousin Abner.” The duck with a red cap reminded his younger brother, who’s dressed in blue.

“You said it. I ‘signed’ the letter, only.” Dewey retaliated. Huey only rolled his eyes, and motioned Abner to come to them.

“Good afternoon, Cousin Abner. I am Huey Duck, and this is Dewey. Nice to meet you.” The duck in red politely introduced himself and his brother, and bowed his head.

“Yeah...umm...we sent you the letter. Did you...receive it...?” Dewey awkwardly asked while looking at his feet, avoiding Abner’s fierce eye contact.

“Why would I be here, otherwise?” Abner asked sarcastically. Abner would have been shouting at his nephews for their lack of common sense, and somehow attributing it to their city lifestyle.

But not when the two kids were the only clues he had to his little brother.

Dewey sulked after realising his mistake, while Huey swiftly cut in to break the weird atmosphere. “Long story short, Cousin Fethry wanted to see you.”

“...and he’s apparently your little brother...” Added Dewey, face still red with embarrassment.

Abner let out a slight sigh. “Lead me to him then. Will your ‘dear’ Uncle Scrooge give you a limousine ride?”

Dewey quickly put a finger on Abner’s beak with a quiet “shh”. After dramatically looking around like a criminal on the run, Dewey explained to Abner, “Please don’t tell Uncle Scrooge about this visit. Don’t even let him see you, no matter how much you want to meet him.” They obviously knew nothing about Abner.

“Uncle Scrooge doesn’t know about our invitation. He doesn’t even want us to visit Cousin Fethry again.” Huey added, his smile faded.

“Why?” Abner questioned, confused how their loving Uncle Scrooge would separate his family members from one another.

Huey, now grimly held his head down, stated, “Uncle Scrooge didn’t want Cousin Fethry to leave the underwater laboratory.” Abner was shocked, but stayed silent for the duckling to continue.

“Dewey and I visited Cousin Fethry a month ago. We answered his...call. Launchpad took us, without telling Uncle Donald or Scrooge, to the underwater laboratory according to the coordinates Cousin Fethry had given us. Together we went on an adventure to the depth of the ocean.”

“We met his team - which was just a bunch of glowing krill, by the way - and went scuba-diving...above undersea volcanoes! 3000 meters below the sea surface, facing scalding dreams of 400 degree Celsius...Oh, and he told us not to drink seawater. Duh.” Dewey cut in, adding in the details of their adventures, unaware of Abner and Huey’s lack of interest.

“Yes. But after getting back up to the surface, we were...well, caught. Uncle Scrooge was there at the lighthouse, the entrance of the laboratory. We were excited to share with him our adventure, when Uncle Scrooge just urged us into Launchpad’s ship. When Fethry was about to come along, Scrooge...”

Huey paused for a moment, still unable to believe the things he was about to say. “...he hit Fethry with his cane. Hard. And slammed the ship door on him. We left, under the order of Uncle Scrooge, while Cousin Fethry was still on the platform of the lighthouse, holding his right hand in pain.”

“The trip back to land was painfully quiet, but once we were back at the Manor, we couldn’t help but confront Scrooge about his actions.” Dewey said, trembling with anger. “‘He nearly got you lads killed!’ was the only reason Scrooge gave us. When we asked him why Fethry was not allowed to come with us, he just said that doesn’t concern us...”

Dewey bit his lips lightly, whispering just loud enough for Abner to hear. “As if a member of our family being trapped underwater by another member of our family for 4.5 years doesn’t concern us...”

“Fe-Fethry has been there for four...four and a half years...?” Abner’s eyes were wide open, blinking occasionally to hold back tears.

“...Yes. Uncle Scrooge never allowed him to leave the laboratory. Cousin Fethry only survived on fish and self-purified seawater. His only form of communication with the outside world was a tin-can-and-string phone, with one of the cans connected to Scrooge’s office. Cousin Fethry was ignored nonetheless, and we were the first ones to answer his call.” Huey continued.

“And the last call he gave us was about his wish to see you. He gave us the address to your town, and asked us to send a letter to you. That’s why you are here.”

A dead silence followed as the three ducks said nothing for a minute.

Abner eventually broke the silence with a question. “Why would Scrooge want to trap Fethry underseas for four and a half years?” Kildare he might understand, but why Fethry? Why the innocent, naive Fethry Duck?

“I guess you will have to find it out yourself, Cousin.” Dewey answered with a shrug. “Here are the coordinates to the McDuck Sub-lab. Launchpad won’t be able to drive you there, so you might have to hire a boat or swim there.” Dewey took out his phone to show Abner the coordinates. “You want a pen and a piece of paper to write it down?”

Abner took out his own phone, which very much surprised his cousins. “You know, living in the countryside doesn’t mean living in a cave.” Abner showed Dewey his phone number. “Send it to me through SMS.”

(8-3-2020)

———————————————————————————————

“Alrighty.”

Abner quickly searched the location of the coordinates. It really was in the middle of the ocean.

“May I ask...how would you plan to go there?” Huey asked, prompting Abner to look up from his phone. “Uncle Donald probably knows a few sailors...Probably.”

“I can manage it.” Abner said, picking up his brown leather bag.

“What’s that?” Dewey pointed at Abner’s belonging curiously.

“Oh.” Abner opened the zip and pulled out his trusty axe, holding it by the wooden handle. Its iron blade gleaming in the dim light. “You mean this?”

“Eek-!” Dewey literally jumped onto Huey, prompting the older brother to catch the duckling in his arms. The trembling duck in blue cried out for the only hero he knew. “Gizmoduck! Help!”

“Hey, you asked for it...” Abner tried to calm his cousin down, albeit still holding the axe in his grasp. He was trying to refer to Dewey asking for him to display his axe, but he was not the best with words.

“No———! I did not! Back off!” Dewey tried to move backwards, which nearly threw Huey off balance. “Gizmoduck———!”

“Hey! Keep it down. Didn’t you say not to alert anyon-“ Abner was interrupted when he heard rapid footsteps approaching them. Abner tried to hide himself, but a battle cry signalled him that it was too late.

“Don’t worry, citizens! Gizmoduck is here to rescue! Blathering Blather-“ A brown duck in a lab coat came rushing with a stack of lab reports. But the moment Fenton spotted the well-built lumberjack wielding a sharp axe, looking at him straight in the eyes, even the robo-hero fainted onto the ground, pieces of paper scattered around him on the courtyard.

An awkward silence followed.

Abner looked at the unconscious duck on the ground, the crying duck in blue, and the annoyed duck in red. “Weird city slickers...”

“Umm...You probably should go now, before anyone comes. I will take care of these two.” Huey spoke while dropping Dewey onto the ground. He held Abner’s hand sincerely, and whispered to him.

“Take Fethry away. Away from his misery.”

Even without Huey’s request, Abner would do that himself.

———————————————————————————————

Abner borrowed a wooden boat from a local fishermen duo. The duo offered a turbo jet, even free of charge. But Abner preferred the old-styled oar-driven boat, and insisted on paying for rent (of $1).

The weather that day was not the best for a sail, but Abner could not wait to see his brother. And he believed that his brother would think the same. He followed the GPS on his phone to the coordinates of the McDuck Sub-lab, and paddled against the current.

Despite living most of his life on land, Abner had learnt how to sail at a young age, thanks to his Junior Woodchuck training. He stopped paddling for a moment, and took out his Junior Woodchuck guidebook from his knapsack. On the first page was a photo of him, Fethry and their fellow teammates. At that time, both of them were ducklings. Abner just got his white feather coat, while Fethry was still a yellow-feathered child. Fethry was the most enthusiastic member of their Junior Woodchuck team. Being a Junior Woodchuck was the only thing Fethry could take pride in.

(9-3-2020)

Fethry was the reason Abner joined the scouting organisation. What was taught by the scoutmasters, such as building a campfire, pitching a tent, and (of course) bringing down a tree, had already been learnt by Abner from his lumberjack mentor. Yet, Abner let his brother demonstrate his skills as a Junior Woodchuck. He joined the organisation after an invitation from Fethry, to share Fethry’s joy and pride of being appreciated and praised by his juniors and seniors. Only as a Junior Woodchuck could Fethry truly be himself.

Abner took one last look at the photo, and closed the guidebook. He would be seeing him soon. In person.

———————————————————————————————

“Hey. You didn’t tell me about this thing here.”

Abner phoned Dewey when he saw the weird machine inside the lighthouse. There were so many buttons and levers on it, Abner didn’t know which would lead him down the lab, and which would set the lab on fire.

“Oh, now you are asking for help.” Dewey said sarcastically. “Not before you say sorry for trying to chop us up.”

Abner slapped his forehead with an audible sound, while Huey slapped Dewey with an audible scream. Huey caught Dewey’s phone with his other hand, and instructed Abner on the machine.

“Just pull the red lever and you are good to go. The one next to two stopwatch-looking thingie, with a green grid screen on top of it. There should be a green arrow pointing down once you pulled the lever.”

Abner pulled the lever as he was told, and the machine started rumbling. “Thanks Cos’.”

“My pleasure. A Junior Woodchuck always helps his fellow Junior Woodchucks.” Said Huey proudly before hanging up the phone. Abner was dumbfounded about how much his newly-met Cousins knew about him, as the elevator took him down to the depth of the ocean.

———————————————————

The elevator stopped suddenly.

Abner nearly lost his footing, before balancing himself with his axe. He tried pulling the lever, but there was no further response. The glass gate to a corridor of the lab only opened slightly, the gap too small for Abner to slide through.

Without any further way to proceed, Abner tried forcing the gate open with the poll of his axe. The glass gate easily gave way, rising up to the top automatically. Abner sighed, seeing how worn-out the lab was. At this point, he wondered if the lab was still in use. Everything looked like it was in ruins.

Abner looked around the corridor: The walls were dirty. The pipes were rusty and broken, with unknown chemical solutions dripping from the holes. The lighting flickered on and off, giving the place an ominous atmosphere. His surrounding was unnervingly quiet, except for the dripping of liquid. As if someone, or something, was waiting for him, watching him from the shadows. The smell was awful, a mix of seawater, chemical wastes and rotten organisms. The wall of the corridor read: “Tully Observatory”.

Abner was known to have nerves of steel, but even he could not help but feel scared. The lab was visibly dangerous. If the boys were not guided by Fethry, Abner doubted he would be here now. He would probably never receive the letter. The letter would have never been written. He held his axe close to himself, eyes darting left and right, up and down to look for potential dangers. He took out his flashlight from his knapsack, and turned it on, holding it in his left hand with his other hand grasping the axe tightly. He could feel his heart racing as he nervously shone the flashlight everywhere. But the light from the flashlight came out wobbly, largely due to his hand uncontrollably trembling.

“Man up, Whitewater!” Abner tried to give himself a pep talk. He was the strongest arm in his town, able to win any wrestling match without breaking a sweat, be it with men or beasts. But now he was alone, sweating involuntarily without a single enemy in sight. Abner was grateful he was alone, lest anyone saw him shaking like a damsel in distress. Yet, part of him was also wishing for company. Someone to fight alongside with him. Someone to give him courage and encouragement.

Suddenly, the light went out. For 1 second. 5 seconds. 10 seconds. 30 seconds...Abner dared not to move, and shone his flashlight in every direction. He wanted to make a run for the elevator, but his strong legs were weak with fear. Abner was near his breaking point. He knew something was there with him, as a hissing sound and a disgusting noise were heard. He strained his ears in the darkness, trying to predict where the enemy, or enemies, would ambush him from, but his head was in a daze. The sounds were getting closer, closer and closer to him. They were coming from all direction. Abner’s heart sank: He was surrounded.

At this point, Abner wished the lights would not turn on again, like a child covering his eyes to not see the monster in front of him. He would rather die in ignorance than die in fear. He dropped the flashlight, and held his axe to himself as tightly as both of his trembling hands could.

Finally, at the worst moment, the lights switched on. Abner came face to face with rows of sharp teeth on the wall of a tunnel to the abyss, with the tunnel stretching to unknown length. He was too late to run. Too late to close his eyes. The monster was right in front of him.

(10-3-2020)

———————————————————

Abner was, to a certain extent, glad that no-one would be there to save him, there to hear him scream. He wildly swung his axe forward, clumsily missing his target just in front of him. He swung again, missing the giant sea worm by half a metre. Despite how large in size they were, the invertebrates were quite agile.

Abner was no trained warrior, but his proficiency in wielding an axe was second to none. The fact that he kept missing his targets dampened his battle spirit: He didn’t have a chance against the monster.

Suddenly, just before going in for another careless attack, Abner felt his feet leaving the metal ground. Abner’s heart sank even lower when he was lifted off the ground. He frantically glanced around despite hanging midair: His feet was caught. He was caught.

Worse still, his hand slipped, thanks to his cold sweat on his palm and the disgusting, slimy substance of the beasts. He dropped his axe. His only weapon. He could only desperately look at his axe falling to the stone cold ground, away from his hand, until a loud clunk could be heard.

Abner had no time to fear for the worst. The monster quickly wrapped its body around the duck, squeezing the warmth out of him. Not even the strongest arm in the countryside could resist the constrictor. He tried pushing at the smooth, jade-green skin of the worm, with all the strength he could muster. It didn’t even bulge. Uh oh.

The predator, though without eyes, sensed its prey trying to push his way free. A quick coil pinned his arms to his body, immobilising those nasty limbs. Oh no.

With only his head and feet free, Abner knew that was the end for him. No way to help him escape. No way to struggle. No way to cry for help (at least, no one to hear him). He frantically thrashed around helplessly, heart pounding, eyes wide open with fear.

He made the long trip to Duckburg, met two of his distant cousins, knew his brother’s ordeal, went to where his brother was trapped, and now he’s going to die without even catching a glimpse of his brother. For four and a half years...he had no contact with his brother. And he would soon be no longer to hear from his dear Fethry forever.

The sea worm tightened its crushing grip, subduing even one of the toughest ducks in the world. Abner’s struggling ceased. He felt that his seemingly limitless strength had been squeezed out. Abner could only squirm weakly, watching as his predator loomed over his relatively small body. The pair of lips split to reveal the tunnel of fangs, seeming endless in length.

Perhaps he was already too late. There’s no way Fethry could fight this monstrosity. Perhaps Fethry wasn’t in the lab anymore. This was the way to see his brother. This was how the two brothers could finally reunite. Abner’s view turned black, as the ravenous maw closed in...

“Hey, meanie! Leave him alone!” A strange yet familiar voice shouted out, echoing through the corridor. Though muffled, Abner could recognise that voice. The voice he had missed for nearly half a decade, the voice he came here for.

Fethry rushed to the base of Abner’s captor, patting the worm’s body, rubbing his beak against it. “You wouldn’t hurt a kind soul, would you? You lil’ angel...We have to treat our guests with love and respect!”

Upon “hearing” Fethry’s persuasion, the sea monster let out a sad whine, stopping its swallowing albeit still trapping its prey in its mouth. It’s still not giving up.

Fethry started to get impatient, but reminded himself to fight with kindness. “That’s my big bro, our VIP. We have to show our Atlantis-tic hospitality! You are a good host, right? A good host gives his guest personal space and freedom. I know you can do it...” Fethry encouraged the sea worm with a light kiss to its smooth, slimy body. Satisfied, the sea worm spat its prey out onto the ground, and lowered its head for a pat from Fethry. It slithered back to the lab’s extensive tunnel system, along with its fellow sea worms. The corridor once again became silent, except for the dripping of liquid.

———————————————————————————————

Fethry rushed to his brother’s side, checking for breath and pulse. Both were weak, but at least detectable. Abner lied against the metal wall, still drained and dizzy from the near-death experience. He slowly opened his eyes, meeting his little brother’s.

Fethry pulled Abner into a hug, despite Abner still being covered in the worm’s secretions. Fethry didn’t care. He missed his big bro. So, so bad.

(19-3-2020)

From just a single hug, Abner could feel all the warmth that had been squeezed out returned to him. Even in a daze, Abner could feel his brother’s emotions, his smile and tears. Four and a half years, across the ocean and over the mountains, the two brothers had finally reunited. To think that should Fethry had arrived five minutes later, just less than a jiffy to rescue his brother from the foul, mutated creature, the two brothers would had been forever parted by the death door. Fethry couldn’t imagine waiting in solitude for so long, only to see his brother die in front of him. A mixed feeling of happiness, sadness, anticipation, loneliness and guilt flooded Fethry’s mind, his grip tightening around Abner’s waist.

Abner knew that mixed feeling was mutual. Although unable to hug back due to his arms still numb, Abner said nor did anything, letting the welled-up emotions fill his heart, and express themselves in the form of tears.

———————————————————————————————

It was Fethry who let go first. Once he did, the good old enthusiastic Fethry was back.

“Big bro! You really did accept my invitation! I am so happy!” Fethry jumped up and down, visually showing his unnatural happiness.

Abner felt something a bit off, but went along with Fethry for now. “Yeah. I...uh, read your letter. Or your cousins’ letter. They met me at the McDuck Manor, and guided me here to find you. You said you have-“ “Oh! So you met the two lil’ Donalds! They were cute, weren’t they? I especially like the Red Donald. He’s a Junior Woodchuck too!” Fethry interrupted before Abner could finish. Fethry was always the bubbly type, so Abner was used to his enthusiasm.

“Yea. Um...’Huey’ was quite helpful. The other one...not so much.” Abner said as he got up from the floor, his legs still weak and numb. His entire body was drenched, but he got neither the energy nor the motivation to dry himself right now.

“Um...I...” Abner looked down, hands messing with his hair aimlessly. Fethry looked at him with his huge, watery eyes, waiting for his brother. “Th...than...thanks for saving me just now. I...I don’t know what would happen if...if you didn’t co...come to he...help. Thanks, Fethry.” Abner managed to utter the last sentence of gratitude without stuttering. Abner never owed anyone anything, and now he owed his life to his dear brother.

“Aww shucks...It was nothing.” Fethry puffed his chest proudly. “A Junior Woodchuck always helps his fellow Junior Woodchucks.” Abner chuckled as he saw the resemblance between his cousin Huey and his brother. No wonder Fethry liked Huey so much.

“Come on! I’ll show you around.” Fethry proposed as he took off his jacket, and put it on Abner. “You’ll catch a cold, big bro. Wear this!” Abner wouldn’t want to make his brother’s coat dirty, but he couldn’t deny that he was freezing. Partly because his head was uncovered right now...

“That’s right! Where’s your hat?” Fethry pointed out, before Abner even noticed his hat missing. “Must have been taken by that...thing as a souvenir. Won’t risk taking it back.” Abner shivered at the thought of fighting those monstrous sea worms again, that feeling of pure fear still lingering in his head.

“Oh, no! Your head must be kept constantly warm to prevent...brain-freezing! A warm head is a happy and healthy head...” So Fethry’s still believing in that self-help book? “No, I’m fine. Just need a quick rest...”

“Here, take this on!” Without hesitation, Fethry took off his stocking cap, and put it on Abner’s head. Fethry never took his stocking cap off. Fethry was never successfully convinced to take his stocking cap off. Fethry never doubted that self-help book’s advice of keeping your head warm to keep it healthy. And now he’s taking his cap off on his own, under no pressure or threat, and putting it on someone else’s head, while leaving his head bare and unprotected? Fethry’s love for his brother was so great, even Abner couldn’t comprehend.

“Th...thank you, Fethry...” Abner uttered in disbelieve, fixing his new undersized jacket and stocking cap. “Don’t mention it! They look great on you!” Fethry smiled.

(20-3-2020)

“I’ll take you on a tour! You are our honourable third guest!” Fethry walked forward down the corridor, looking back to signal Abner to come with him. Despite still having questions...a lot of questions...Abner decided keep his beak shut for the moment. Questions could wait. He retrieved his axe from the floor, and let Fethry take his hand.

———————————————————————————————

“And now, we come to the abode of the one and only Fethry Duck. Behold!” Fethry said in a tour guild’s voice, as the brothers entered Fethry’s abode. The pod was inhabitable, but clearly in disrepair.

Fethry’s voice was optimistic and persuasive, but the fact that the pod, along with the rest of the lab, was not a homely place was obvious. The golden-yellow paint on the wall was tearing off. Every piece of fabric was sewed up again and again (despite Fethry’s fine sewing skills, the evidence that those cloths have been used for years was inevitably visible). Electricity was still supplied throughout the lab, albeit unstably, as it was generated by the “hydrothermal vents” (as Fethry had explained). Living here for four and a half years was, to a small extent, possible, especially given how adaptable and creative Fethry was. But would anyone want to live in such a condition for so long?

(21-3-2020)

A torn poster was decorated on the wall. The only phrases readable were the title “Signs of Ocean Madness” and a bullet point “Isolation for Long Period of Time”. Abner wouldn’t say Fethry had gone mad, but he sure did feel...different. Different from a person suffering from isolation for long period of time. Why was the poster there in the first place? One of the partly-torn bullet point involved the word “Pressure”, and Huey reported Fethry trying to “depressurise” himself from the deep sea pressure. Was Fethry trying to stay sane while being trapped here? Was the torn poster a symbol that he had failed?

“So this is where I live. Simple and sweet. Not too much, not too little.” Fethry showed Abner his “home” by spinning around. “My bed, my sofa my stove, my tea kettle, my dishes, my towel, my empty coffee bean jar...” Among the possessions Fethry listed, he missed one prominent item in the room. One type of household item that was in excess quantity and diversity: Cleaning goods.

Fethry didn’t mention it, but Abner knew that much cleaning chemicals and tools were unnecessary for a pod this small.

“...my cupboard, my curtain, my window, through which you can see the beautiful ocean view - well, in depth...and...Oh! My team!” Fethry dashed to the an even smaller storage room, before Abner could stop him. He took out a jar of seawater, which, on mild stirring, began to glow. Bioluminescent krill. It was the first time Abner saw anything bioluminescent other than fireflies. The krill were beautiful, but Abner had no more time. Abner was happy that his little brother was happy, but something tells him Fethry was not. Questions could wait, but it was too long.

“My team, meet my big bro. My big bro, meet my team-“

“Why-“ Abner cut him off before he could introduce his “team”. That was obviously not a team, whatever the nature of the team was. Fethry was obviously hiding something. There’s no way he could feel so happy.

Yes, he just met his “long lost” brother. But then he’s taking Abner on a tour around his prison, without hinting why he was sent to this prison in the first place, or his feelings when trapped in this hell. Fethry asked his cousins to send his brother a distress signal, and his cousins added additional information on how pathetic the situation Fethry was in now. Fethry might hide the truth from the boys, as they were still acquaintances, and Fethry might not want to badmouth their dear Uncle Scrooge in front of them.

But there’s no reason why Fethry would ask the boys to send a long distance mail by air to Abner’s town, urged Abner to come all the way to the McDuck Sub-lab, only to take him on a tour around the lab. There’s no reason why Fethry would hide the truth from Abner, the only family member he could trust. He couldn’t hide it.

Fethry was evading. And Abner could see through it.

“Why could I fend off the sea worms? Oh...You see, they feel affection...” The sea worm attack was an hour ago. “So instead of fists, you fight with kisses! Red lil’ Donald’s tactic worked! I should write that in my Junior Woodchuck Guidebook...”

Fethry put down the jar on the cupboard, took the guidebook from his bed, and began flipping through the pages to find a blank one. When he did, however, Abner put his right hand on the page, pushing the guidebook down. Fethry was wacky, but he’s not stupid. He knew he had been exposed. He’s just buying time now.

“Fethry, level with me. Please.” Abner requested firmly. “Why would Scrooge trap you here for four and a half years?” Fethry didn’t tell Abner he had been here for four and a half years, let alone the fact that Scrooge was the culprit.

The question pinpointed the problem at its core. There’s no escape for Fethry now. He dropped the smile on his face, and the guidebook in his hands. He lowered his head, and said nothing for the next minute. Abner waited, as Fethry was internally struggling to open the lid to his bottled-up feelings. Betrayal, rejection, isolation...

Fethry’s hands rarely balled into fists, his entire body shifted from shaking to trembling. Fethry could lie, but he couldn’t lie to himself. When those bottled-up emotions were let out, Fethry easily collapsed.

He fell onto his knees, his hands covering his face. Not even his hands could contain the flowing tears, which slipped through the gaps of his fingers. Four and a half years’ worth of buried sadness manifested into a pathetic wail, echoing in the small pod. He cried, screamed, shouted, cursed...It wasn’t the first time Abner saw his brother cry, but it was the first time he saw his brother cry this hard, this intense. Fethry hit the cold, hard ground with his fists. It surely hurt, but not as much as it was in his heart. Scrooge, Scrooge McDuck, Uncle Scrooge...Four and a half years, because of this man, this relative, this...”idol” of his.

Fethry needed some time. Some alone time. Abner watched as his brother expressed his feelings wildly in his so-called “home”, not saying a word, not doing an action.

In merely fifteen minutes, four and a half years’ time suddenly burst forward.

———————————————————

“So, the boys told you about what happened when they left...” Fethry, still looking down, stressed on the word “they”. He wasn’t allowed on board, on board the ship to freedom. That slap on the hand started to hurt again.

Abner sat on the ground to get to the same level as Fethry. Fethry had the answer to his own question.

“Ten years ago, I left from our hometown to Duckburg. I heard Donald and Della were going on adventures with Uncle Scrooge again, from Gladdy. Of course they wouldn’t involve me in their adventures. They wouldn’t even want me to know about their adventures.” Fethry said with a strong hint of sadness. It was after a visit by Gladstone Gander that Fethry left for Duckburg, but Abner never thought what really drove Fethry to his uncle was the postcard sent to Gladstone by Donald.

“I had been pushed aside, neglected and ignored for so long, I wanted to prove myself I could be as successful as anyone else. I wanted to prove that I am not just a Junior Woodchuck. I am more than a Junior Woodchuck. I am talentless. I am useless. I am weak. But I thought: Through determination and creativity, nothing is impossible. Isn’t this how Uncle Scrooge became the richest duck in the world? ‘Tougher than the toughies, smarter than the smarties...’, eh?” Fethry recited that phrase with pure bitterness. The phrase he once lived by had come back to bite him.

“When I arrived at Duckburg, however, Uncle Scrooge had stopped adventuring. Apparently, Della had laid three eggs, which are, of course, the three boys. Without Della, the adventure team stopped its operation.”

“‘That was my chance!’ I thought to myself. I could substitute Della as the third member while she waited for the eggs to hatch. After proving my abilities, I could become the fourth member of the team.”

“But Uncle Scrooge outright rejected my offer. ‘You are too incompetent,’ he coldly said to me. ‘Don’t think your Junior Woodchuck skills make you a genius.’ I understand. I am not as strong as Donald. I am not as brave as Della. But I have a heart for adventure as passionate as both of them. I am also a Junior Woodchuck like both of them. Somehow, being a ‘jack of all trade, master of none’ automatically makes you useless.”

“I tried to prove my worth as a team member. I had thought of possible locations for treasure hunting, researching the geographic and the fauna of those areas, thus working out the level of difficulty of different destination. I had also provided solutions, and self-invented gadgets if necessary. But all my proposals were not even given a glance. All my gadgets were not even given a trial. I understand Della was an irreplaceable member of the team. I wasn’t trying to replace her. I just wanted to be like her. Be a part of the team. Be...like Scrooge.”

“A man of miracles, hailing from the highlands of Scotland, travelled to the land of America at a young age of 18, gained his own bucket o’ gold from the gold rush at 20, and established his own company at the tender age of 22.5. Just four and a half years, Scrooge McDuck was already on his way to fame and glory. A man of miracles, indeed.”

(22-3-2020)

“And even the richest duck in the world couldn’t escape bad luck, it seemed. One day, I came to the McDuck Manor, and bumped into Donald with the three eggs. I didn’t need Donald to tell me what happened. It was all on the news. The niece of the richest duck in the world went missing in space. Poor ol’ Uncle Scrooge poured his heart and soul into saving his beloved niece. I had never seen him look that pathetic: His eyes were red with crying, his sleeves wet with tears. His feathers were all puffed up and ruffled. His office was in a mess. Oh, poor Uncle Scrooge.” Despite his wording and apparently sympathetic attitude, Abner could hear a strong satirical tone in his innocent little brother’s speech.

“Donald took up the responsibility to take care of the three little Donalds. I wanted to help, but Donald insisted on being the sole caretaker. Donald never like owing people things.”

“The only thing I can do is take care of Uncle Scrooge. Duckworth’s ageing body started to fail him, so I volunteered to help take care of my own uncle.”

“Those days were tough. Very tough. I believe Donald felt the same when raising three children on his own. Uncle Scrooge didn’t seem like himself. Once the owner of the world, now a pathetic old man. I did everything for him. Meals, cleaning, laundry, fetching newspaper, collecting mails, gardening...And he said my Junior Woodchuck skills meant nothing...”

“Dr Gearloose, as usual, helped in the repairing of electronic appliances, while Mr Duckworth helped deal with the press and the entrepreneurs. Those days were hard, but there, I found a meaning for my life. Despite I was just taking care of my uncle, I felt like someone appreciated me for the first time since I left the Junior Woodchucks. I felt like I was being treasured, being noticed. I was an apprentice of the legendary Scrooge McDuck!”

“I didn’t want his wealth or fame. I just want the attention he gets. Not the one from reporters, but from his family. That’s all I ask for: A place in this family. Where I can be myself, and be welcomed and accepted.”

“After a year or two, things started to get back together. The money bin was filled with coins and treasures again. The stock price of McDuck Enterprises was rising again. Even I was just being a caretaker, I felt like I had done something great for the family. I felt like I played a part to save McDuck Enterprises, and Uncle Scrooge himself. There weren’t any celebrations, but I was clapping my hands in my heart intensely when the news arrived.”

“Uncle Scrooge returned to his former glory. The last ray of sunlight at dusk seeped through the curtains into his office. Uncle Scrooge was asleep in his chair, tired from a day’s work. Even on a sunny day, autumn in Duckburg could be chilling. I took a blanket from the closet, and placed it on Uncle Scrooge. His drowsy ‘thank you’ was all I needed. Two words gave me the will to live on. A smile gave me the energy to move on. Just being by his side filled me with happiness. Just being with Uncle Scrooge gave me the meaning in life. I don’t need adventures anymore. I had found my position, my value.”

“But life just wouldn’t give ol’ Scrooge a break. Fate just likes to mess with people, you know?” Fethry’s voice deepened, signalling a dark turn of events.

“Five years ago, Mr Duckworth passed away. He had fought bravely against death for five years to witness the rebirth of Scrooge McDuck, but he succumbed to his disease on a beautiful autumn morning. The morning glory bloomed quietly in the garden, its speaker-shaped flowers listening to the silent prayers of the elderly duck.”

“We were afraid what happened five years before would happen again. It didn’t, in their eyes. But it did, in mine.”

“McDuck Enterprises didn’t fall into depression, but Uncle Scrooge did. It wasn’t very visible this time, and only Dr Gearloose and I noticed Scrooge’s abnormal behaviour. He had been working much. Too much. He could take care of himself. He ate, slept, bathed...but then it’s back to working time. The only socialising he did was with business partners. He only talked to Dr Gearloose about research and design. Nothing more.”

“Not being part of his enterprises, Uncle Scrooge didn’t talk to me at all. Except complaints about incomplete or imperfect houseworks. I still had my job, but the meaning was starting to fade. I was still Uncle Scrooge’s caretaker, but that’s all I was. I was treated as though I was being paid. I wasn’t appreciated. I wasn’t needed. Scrooge could take care of himself. What I was providing was no longer required. I was no longer important.”

“I was never appreciated in the first place. The one receiving the glory was Mr Duckworth, the forever faithful mister butler. He was the one who saved Uncle Scrooge. I was just pretending to be in his spotlight. Now that Mr Duckworth was gone, the spotlight ceased, and I realised I was the jester on the stage, not even close to a sidekick.”

(23-3-2020)

“I stayed by his side, taking the role of Mr Duckworth before a replacement could be found. Funny how I was now taking the role of someone else, like I always wanted, but I felt nothing. For half a year, I didn’t exist in this world. I was invisible, non-existing, intangible. Anxiety crept in as I realised my meaning in life getting away from me. I needed to be of use. I needed to contribute to McDuck Enterprises. Only then...I would feel Uncle Scrooge’s appreciation.”

“I asked for whether he needed any help. I had done all the necessary housework as possible, and asked for extra work for the Enterprises. The reply was surprising. Unfortunately surprising.” Abner frowned slightly as he knew what the job would be.

“‘Yes.’ He said. He introduced me to the McDuck Sub-lab, where I would be working as a scientist. The Sub-lab at that time looked nothing like this. Golden walls, brightly illuminated hallways, well-furnished laboratories...I was overjoyed when I stepped into the Sub-lab. I imagined how my life in the McDuck Enterprises would be: Me, working among elites from all over Duckburg, doing experiments and research with hundreds of Dr Gearloose, doing demonstrations and presentations in front of thousands of Scrooge McDuck...A life full of meaning was there in my reach.”

(24-3-2020)

Abner listened quietly, and kept his confusion to himself. Didn’t his cousins told him Fethry was just a caretaker of the lab?

“To think I could be second to Dr Gearloose, the greatest inventor in Duckburg, I was more than delighted. Childish it may seem, but I always aspire to be a scientist. A person who can change someone’s life. A person who can change the world for the better. I just find it meaningful to help others. Must be all that teaching back in the Junior Woodchuck.”

“That’s why I invited you to Duckburg at Christmas of that year, big bro.”

Fethry looked up, looking at Abner’s shocked expression. Abner seldom answered his family’s invitation. His family seldom gave Abner invitation. But that Christmas, five years ago, Abner accepted his brother’s invitation. He knew there must be a reason why Fethry, the one who knew him the most, would invite him to a family gathering on purpose.

———————————————————————————————

At the front door of the McDuck Manor, there he was: Fethry waving at his brother in the front garden, wearing a bright smile that warmed Abner’s heart in the evening snowfall. That was the first and only time Abner entered the Manor. He would never think of getting in there if it wasn’t because of that letter from Fethry.

Despite the Fethry’s warm welcome, the bright lighting and the fragrant aroma of wintry herbs, the inside of the Manor was colder than the outside. The Manor seemed unusually big, thanks to the lack of occupants. It’s true: Scrooge would stay in his office, while Gyro would stay at home. One hated Christmas, one hated human interactions in general. That “family gathering” was between the two brothers only.

Still, Fethry prepared everything himself: The invitation, the decorations, the hospitality, the food...That full-course meal was the best Abner had ever had. After all, which chef in all of Duckburg - or in the world - would know what he personally liked the most?

Together, the two brothers warmed up the three-storey manor. On the Christmas day five years ago, laughter filled the McDuck Manor. The long-gone festive atmosphere surrounded the Manor. The winter moonlight illuminated the once misery abode. For one night, a couch beside the fireplace became the most cozy place in the city. For one night, a plain bunk bed became the most comfortable place in the world.

For one night, a Christmas miracle was bestowed to the Duck family.

———————————————————————————————

But little did Abner know, the Christmas present given to him that year was a parting gift.

Fethry didn’t tell his brother about his new “occupation”. He wanted to invite his brother to his new working place for a tour once he started working there. But surely, that dream didn’t come true until now, four and a half years later.

“I wanted to celebrate with you, brother.” Fethry held Abner’s hand. “That was the best Christmas I had ever enjoyed ever since we grew up and went separate ways. I wish that Christmas night would repeat. That happiness and warmth I experienced would come back to me...” Fethry was close to tears, but held them back with a soft sniff.

“And then, I didn’t experience any Christmas at all for four years. The next spring, I was brought to the Sub-lab by a submarine, guided to the depth of the building complex, and left stranded here until now. Uncle Scrooge promised the other scientists would be joining me soon, but I should have known better. A tin can for communication? How silly of me. I watched as the Uncle Scrooge left with the only vehicle to freedom, and disappeared into the spring mist. I remembered I waved at him, smiling. I could imagine Scrooge doing the same, smiling at his gullible nephew.”

“While waiting for my non-existing colleagues, I did the only thing I know. The thing I once did to save the company: Caretaking. I found the cleaning goods in this pod, and made the whole laboratory sparkly cleaned, ready for scientists from all over the world to join me underseas.”

“For days, weeks, months, years...nobody came. The tin can must have rung countless times, but nobody answered. I tried joking, shouting, screaming for response, but nobody replied. I waited on the dock of the lighthouse for ships from McDuck enterprises, or just from any good Samaritan, but nobody even passed by in the murky sea. I don’t have a submarine, ship or boat. Even if I did, the only coordinates I have was of this cursed Sub-lab. I wouldn’t know where to go. Swimming back to land was suicide. I have learnt enough to know how dangerous the wonders of the sea could be. That’s when I knew: I am truly trapped in this deserted laboratory.”

“Food was running short. Clean water was running short. Fear was running high. Even with my Junior Woodchuck guidebook, I can’t survive on my own in the middle of nowhere. Worse still, the chemical waste and the hydrothermal vents were turning my sea companions into murderous monsters.”

“What started out small enough to fit my palm mutated into unmeasurable length. You aren’t the only one scared of those sea worms, big brother. The first time I met one of those, I knew I was going to die. Just one of those monsters, and I was immediately subdued. My eyes wide opened, my feet dangling midair. I was cornered, trapped, vulnerable. That was the end for me, I was convinced. That was where I would die. That was how I would die. Alone, scared, hopeless, helpless...”

“I cried. Pathetically. At the mercy of my predator, I didn’t use my hands to struggle. I didn’t use my hands to beg for salvation. I used my hands to cover my face, wiping away ever-flowing tears. That wouldn’t help, but I knew I couldn’t save myself anyway. I was weak. I would never be tougher than the toughies, smarter than the smarties. I just couldn’t. I cry when I am scared. I panic when I am startled. At the end, I am just a whiny kid.”

“My discovery about those worms was the result of that near-death experience. The monster loosened its grapple, from a crushing grip to a gentle embrace. It softly set me down onto the floor, and nuzzled my face. They may not have eyes or noses, but they can sense emotions. It must had sensed my sadness, and felt my tears dripping onto its smooth skin. These were my buddies, originally my predators. I was pathetic enough to treat my killers as my friends. I was pathetic enough to let those cold, smily skin give me warmth and comfort.”

(30-3-2020)

Fethry paused for a brief moment, before letting out a little laugh. “On the other hand...” He pointed at the torn poster on the wall. “That is what Scrooge gave me. A mockery, letting me know I’m going insane: My cries for help are just ‘signs of madness’. My fears of dying are merely ‘paranoia’...”

The laughter turned from a chuckle to a hysterical cackle. “When I look at that poster...That worn-out piece of paper bearing the logo of McDuck Enterprises, signed by Scrooge McDuck himself...” Fethry touched the window of the pod, looking at the deep sea outside. “My anger as scalding as the vocanlos, but my sorrow as blue as the sea.”

Abner looked at the jar of bioluminescent krill Fethry was hugging close to himself. The dim blue lights from the critters reminded him of the twinkling stars back at their hometown. Fethry must have thought the same: Whenever Fethry stared lovingly at his “team”, was he thinking of his hometown? Those carefree days observing the starlit night sky with his brother on the meadow. He used to make a wish to the stars every night. Was he doing the same to the krill? How many wishes had he made during those four and a half years?

“But...” Abner hesitated to say the question he had been wanting to ask. “Why would Scrooge do this to you?”

Fethry didn’t answer immediately, still looking at the deep sea. Abner patiently waited, silently worrying he might had asked a wrong question. Was it something Fethry had done? Did Fethry not have the answer?

“Uncle Scrooge wanted a start over.”

Fethry whispered, looking back at Abner.

“Ever since Della went missing, Donald went away, I was the only person who would remind Uncle Scrooge of his past, adventure days. After Mr Duckworth passed away, Scrooge wanted to move on. Falling into depression a second time taught Scrooge the only way to rehabilitation was to let go of the past.”

“I’m his life reset button. Only by removing me could Uncle Scrooge forget the past and return to his former success. When I realised I was trapped here, I understood Scrooge’s intention: Getting rid of me, dead or alive.”

Fethry showed a sad smile.

“At the end, I was saving McDuck Enterprises after all.”

———————————————————————————————

A faint ray of light pierced through the glass into the pod.

The sky must had cleared up. For light to penetrate through the deep ocean layers, the sunlight out there must be very bright.

The sunlight illuminated Fethry’s smile, like an angel trapped in hell, yet basked in heaven’s light.

And Abner’s going to free this angel from his underwater prison. He’s going to give his brother the salvation he had deserved for four and a half years.

Abner stood up, walking behind Fethry, and returned his jacket and stocking cap, helping him put on the clothing. Before he could decline the offer, Abner held his brother’s hand, helping him up.

“We’re getting out of here, Fethry.”

The younger brother replied with a nod and a smile, his watery eyes showing his gratitude and happiness.

Just like in the past, back in the rural hometown: A big brother holding his younger brother’s hand, walking home in the dark.

Axe in one hand, his brother’s hand in another, Abner walked through the ruined underwater lab for the second and the last time. What seemed like hell just an hour ago was a bit more homely now. The cold, metallic ground underneath was now the path to freedom.

Walking towards the wall labelled “Tully Observatory”, Abner faced the predator again. The sea worm came out of its hiding spot, tilting its head at the duo. Abner let go of his brother, dropped his axe voluntarily, and paddled towards the monster whom he had feared just a while ago. The duck embraced his predator, patting the head previously trying to devour him.

“Thank you for accompanying my brother.” Abner uttered, a bit unbelieving that he’s talking to a seemingly non-sentient being. Whether it understood or not, Abner felt that he must give his gratitude to the only company his brother had had until their two young cousins came to visit.

The sea worm let out a contented whine, like a cat’s purr. Despite having no limbs or visible sensory organs, that creature was quite sensitive. The invertebrate bent its body, seemingly trying to cough out something. Abner put out his hands to receive the “gift”, which was no other than his own brown hat.

Slightly disgusted, but heart-warmed, Abner gave the monster one last pat, put on the hat, before taking his axe and his brother’s hand again.

———————————————————————————————

The sky in the outside world looked like it had never rained before. The evening shade was a mix of aqua and orange, with sparse clouds a deep blue colour. Distant light from lighthouses and ships looked like twilight stars fallen from the sky, gleaming brightly on the water surface. The waves were calm, the breeze gentle, as if it was the start of a new journey.

Abner stepped onto the boat, putting his axe back into his leather bag, his knapsack beside him, while taking the oar in his hand. Fethry looked at the lighthouse one last time - his home for nearly half a decade - but his heart was now calm as the evening tides. He had left his sadness, wrath, despair, and agony down on the sea bed. Uncle Scrooge was right: Only by letting go of the past could someone move forward.

Fethry flipped a switch, turning the lights off. No need for the beacon of hope, now that the stars were in his reach. Fethry took a deep breath, and turned around to his brother.

“Let’s go home, big brother.”

(7-3-2020 ~ 11-6-2020)

———————————————————————————————

-Oh my god I finally finished it.

-This is actually the first fan-fiction I have started in my life, but the fourth to finish writing. This is also probably the longest story I will ever write. I’m sorry I’m impatient and lazy.

-Like “122,640 Days” (and “Hey Laddie”(?)), I wrote most of “Brother’s Sentiment” before and during my public exam. I’m sorry I’m a terrible student.

-(Okay back to the story) This story is an AU (?) of the Ducktales (2017) episode “The Depth of Cousin Fethry!” (S02E02), in which Huey and Dewey did not (could not) free Fethry after their visit to the McDuck Sub-lab, so as to give way for Fethry’s big brother Abner “Whitewater” Duck. The lab was not destroyed during the kids’ visit (sorry Mitzy no playing hero for you).

-I also tried to give a backstory as to why Fethry ended up in the lab in the first place, a description of Fethry’s feelings for being trapped for four and a half years, and a reason for Scrooge’s decision of trying to indirectly kill his relative, etc. These aspects were not explored in the series and were thus non-canon.

-Also non-canon was Scrooge’s road to fame as described in the story. I know there’s a detailed backstory about Scrooge’s rise to power (?), but I am not a real fan I didn’t do my research I’m sorry wanted to fit the time “4.5 years” so as to make a comparison between Scrooge and Fethry.

-The story was written (finished) at the start of Season 3 (up to S03E07). More of Fethry may be explored (Abner screen debut please), so the story really is all my imagination.

Two songs I listened to while writing (most of) the story:

Mitsuha’s Theme (三葉のテーマ), from Your Name https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=NHefLo230SE

Kataware Doki (かたわれ時), also from Your Name https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=Uy3NpQRJntc

———————————————————————————————

Thank you for reading my first story. Have a nice day!

#ducktales #ducktales 2017 #the depth of cousin fethry #fethry duck #abner duck #whitewater duck #story #storyteller #long story

54 notes · View notes

mxillusion · 5 years ago

Note

Helloooooooooo! NO ONE ASKED SOMETHING FOR KIHYUN? MY GOD. I can do something for that 😏😏 sooooo, can you write something non-celebrity!AU and neighbors/strangers to lovers??? I love "roller coaster" one shot so it's up to you, if you wanna break and then heal my heart! 53+22!!! I can't wait and thanks!!!!!!!!!! 👍🏽👍🏽👍🏽

Hellooo sweetie! I am SO SO sorry it took me that long, I just wanted it to be perfect. I worked several days on this, reading it every now and then to restructure it several times. And then… I got carried away. It’s quite long, lol, but I hope you don’t mind. Thank you so much for requesting. I guess this is my new favorite. ♡ Just as Kihyun, but pssst!

ROMANCE NEXT DOOR

➝ genre/warnings: mostly fluff / none

➝ words count: 4800+

➝ summary: Who would’ve thought you’d have someone as handsome and beautiful as him living next door? You just moved in a while ago, but he immediately caught your attention by the way he was smiling at you. You two walked in on each other every now and then until one inconspicuous incident was going to turn your life upside-down.

It was just an ordinary day as you were on your way home on a late evening. The sun was about to go down but it was still warm enough to savor the warm tickling on your skin, while a warm spring-breeze blew through your hair. You were humming to some music coming through your EarPods, carrying your grocery bag in front of your chest with your arms enclosed around it.

As you reached your apartment block you went straight to the second floor, not realizing that someone was calling your name since the music overdrew the sound of everything else around you. Not until you stopped in front of your apartment door to drop the groceries so you could open it.

Within this movement, someone tapped your shoulder what made you flinch and nearly spill everything to the ground. In shock, you removed your EarPods and turned around just to look into amused glowing eyes.

“Did I scare you?”

Your heart just dropped into your guts, that’s why you tried to calm down again. Yes, of course, he scared you and based on his mischievous grin he knew that pretty well.

“No,” you fibbed, trying to return that grin. “I wanted to spill my groceries across the floor just for fun, you know?”

He chuckled while he gave himself one short moment to size you up, but you didn’t notice as you were checking if something fell to the ground. Luckily it didn’t and as you looked up again, you tilted your head, waiting for Kihyun to explain why he was here.

“You weren’t home, so the postman left your package at my place.” He pulled out the package from behind his back and held it out to you, deliberating how you could take it since you’re still carrying your groceries.

You somehow tried to free one arm, but the bag in your other one nearly slipped out of it. Probably that wasn’t the best idea. You finally should open the god damn apartment to have a chance to relieve the pressure on your numb arms.

“Just… let me -,” you mumbled, turning around again to type in the code into your number pad, to open the door. With a sigh, you stumbled into your apartment, just to place the groceries onto the dresser.

Kihyun was watching you, still with this amused grin on his face. He seemed to be very entertained by your nervousness. “Take it easy, girl!”

You lightly blushed as you received your package. “Thank you,” you simply said, feeling very grateful for what he’d done. You barely knew him, so you didn’t take it for granted at all.

He was just the handsome neighbor from the other side, occasionally smiling at you when you came across one another. And sometimes when he saw you through the kitchen window since they both were opposite to each other. The thought of it made your heart flutter for a second.

Kihyun winked at you, waving his hand for goodbye. He vanished into his apartment, not without smiling at you again when he turned to close the door behind him, knowing full well you’re still glancing at him through the kitchen window. Just to make you blush again.

You saw him a few days later, as you were about to look for your mail in the morning. Just as you opened your door, the one on the other side opened synchronously what made you grin even before you saw him. As he looked up, Kihyun winked at you before he almost crashed in on someone out of a sudden. You flinched but your body relaxed as soon as you realized it luckily wasn’t happening.

A sigh escaped your lips as you saw who the portentous other person was. Of course, it had to be 4B. Your absolutely stunning, model-like neighbor with the longest legs and shortest skirts you’ve ever seen. That girl really was the plague. Throwing one party after the other, hearing loud music at ungodly hours and, most importantly, suspiciously often leaving her apartment when he did.

Shaking your head you made your way to your mailbox, ignoring the charade that was about to begin. Kihyun seemed to be distracted anyway, so you hurried, picking up your mail, in order to rush back into your apartment. To be fair, that’s all you wanted to do in the first place. And you had no intention to get involved in another pretend-to-be-nice conversation by her. She tried to act as if you were kind of a friend to her, but you immediately grasped it was nothing more than this; an act.

Later that evening you had whole other problems since you head real trouble to not set your kitchen on fire. Everything got out of control and you had no clue why. You just haven’t watched the stove for about a second but that seemed to be enough to ruin everything. Truth be told, you’re a terrible cook and you were totally aware of that, but you couldn’t just live from one delivery service to another so you tried to get better at it from time to time. Well, it didn’t work out this time.

You opened the kitchen window to get rid of the damp just to burn your fingers short time afterward as you tried to grab the hot pan. “Ouch,” you wailed, running back to the sink to cool your irritated skin under cold water.

That’s when the doorbell rang, making you jerk as you wondered who the hell was visiting you just now. With a sigh you made your way to the door, to open it fulsomely without looking through the peephole first.

Your heart dropped into your guts once again, as you saw him. He looked as handsome and stunning as always, although he had this concerned expression on his face.

“Is everything okay?” he asked right away before you had a chance to greet him properly or ask why he was here.

“U-Uhm, yes?” you mumbled, raising a brow at him. “Why you’re asking?”

“I thought I smelled so-,” he stopped, looking past you as he wrinkled his nose. “Is something burning?” And with that, he entered your apartment, leaving you at the door perplexed.

You followed him, trying to prevent him from seeing the mess you made in your kitchen, but you were too late. He already stood there, looking quite shocked while he shook his head in disbelief. And as you were back in your kitchen you first noticed how smoky it was in here. You just failed so hard.

“What did you do?” he screeched. Without asking for permission he hitched up his sleeves before he tried his best to save some of the food that was about to fully burn in your pan.

“I cooked?“

Kihyun glanced at you through hooded eyes as you blushed instantly. You wanted to disappear right on spot, that’s how embarrassed you were. It was quite humiliating to have to admit a young woman of your age wasn’t able to cook simple meals, but, unfortunately, it was the ugly truth.

“Looks more like you’re trying to poison yourself if you ask me.”

You sulked as you crossed your arms in front of your chest. You were ashamed and angry at the same time, that’s why you couldn’t respond in any kind of way. Instead, you just watched him. Why was he here? Yes, you knew by now he was checking if everything’s okay, but why? To be fair, it was none of his business but he seemed to care anyway. Maybe your cooking skills were much worse than you thought they would be, otherwise, he wouldn’t have been that concerned about you just because of some bad smell coming out of your kitchen window.

Within seconds he had everything under control again, although he had to throw some stuff directly into the bin because it was too burned. He added some spices and worked some magic and it turned out to be beyond perfect.

“How did you do that?” you asked, as you regained some confidence and drew closer, to peek over his shoulder. It smelled so delicious although you’d thought you ruined the whole meal with your nonexistent cooking skills.

“I just paid attention to what I did.” He chuckled, while he turned his head in your direction. “I assume you got distracted?”

You just nodded silently, still feeling the heat on your reddened cheeks, suddenly aware of the closeness of his face. “Just for a second,” you mumbled, feeling his gaze piercing right through you. “I’m a terrible cook..”

“Shocking!” he said with an amused grin on his face.

You bumped him with your hips, to express your indignation but soon joined his amused laughs. “Not funny! You have no idea how hard I try. I really do, but for some reason, it only gets worse."

"Yeah, I saw that.”

“Hey! Stop being mean!”

“Sorry,” he said, chuckling. “I may have to show you how to cook one day.” The grin on his face grew bigger while he thought about how much of a basket case you were.

You raised a brow on him. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“We’ll see about that,” he said sounding confident enough for you let it be. At least for now.

After a short moment of hesitation, you gathered all of your courage to invite him for dinner. That’s the least you could do to express your gratitude to him.

When he rejected you couldn’t help but feel sad about it. For a moment you had a gleam of hope to get the chance to spend the evening with him. But of course, he had other plans already.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. Maybe next time?"

You just nodded, telling yourself it wasn’t that bad since your invitation was very spontaneous after all. "It’s okay, don’t worry. Thanks for coming to my rescue.”

He grinned one last time before he made his way back to the door. “Anytime."

After that incident, you were quite sure to not see him again that soon, but in fact, you saw each other surprisingly often. You still met occasionally when you both left your apartment at the same time and almost whenever you came home in the afternoon. Every so often you used the opportunity to sit down in the inner yard to have a little chit chat. To be honest, you really enjoyed his presence and the talks you two had and it seemed as if he felt the same about it. You couldn’t help but ask yourself if maybe, just maybe, all those accidental meetings weren’t that accidental.

Those thoughts soon intensified as Kihyun stood in front of your apartment again a few days later, having some takeaways along with him. He smiled at you while he presented them by holding them up. He just hoped you didn’t have any other plans that night, so he took you by surprise, jokingly saying he wanted to prevent another disaster.

You were just sitting together, enjoying each other’s company and the delicious food he had brought. That night you learned he was a passionate cook, always trying new stuff whenever he had time to do so. He seemed quite confident, not only about his cooking skills but about everything. You listened fascinated, happy about the fact you got to know him a little more. Whenever he could, he curiously asked questions about you and your life and you told him everything he wanted to know. Where you were born, how long you’ve been living here and why you’re living alone, making it sound like he was about to ask if there was someone in your life. You told him about your past relationship, keeping it as vague as you could since you didn’t want to tell him you’d been cheated on and moved into this apartment because of it. Since you never told anyone.

And that was the beginning of something new. There was no doubt he liked being with you, as you spent more and more of your free time together. Eating takeaways soon became some kind of ritual to spend extra time together, laughing and occasionally flirting witch each other.

When you came home on a Friday afternoon another surprise, in the form of a small handwritten note, was waiting for you at your door. With a smile plastered on your face, you took it to read what has been written in the neatest handwriting you’d ever seen.

‘Come to the dark side. I don’t have cookies, but other delicious things!’

You nearly flew to the other side of the building to ring his doorbell. You haven’t noticed he was watching you from the window while you read his note in order to run to his apartment.

As Kihyun opened the door, it felt like your heart leaped out of your chest. He tilted his head, looking at you with that breathtaking smile he gave you every time he saw you. "That was fast.” He chuckled, taking a step back to let you in. “I hope you’re hungry."

He led yo into his kitchen and you took a look around. He was still preparing some vegetables and other things and you wondered if you should help him or not. It was quite rude not to, but on the other hand, you weren’t so sure if he’d allow you to muddle in his beloved kitchen.

"No worries, I’m right with you. Nothing will explode as long as you’re under my wings,” he said mockingly as if he’d just read your mind.

“I’m not that bad at cooking!”

“Uh, yes, you are! But that’s what we’re here for. I’ll show you.”

And he did. Patiently he took his time to show you some tips and tricks yet without making fun of you even for a second. It turned out to make a lot more fun when you’re not cooking alone, that’s why you couldn’t wait for the next time already.

“It’s not that hard, isn’t it?” he asked, braking in on your deep thoughts. He stood right behind you, looking over your shoulder to see what you’re doing as he laid a hand on your waist. Your body stiffened under his touch and you unintentionally stopped breathing for a few seconds.

“Relax, it’s just me,” he muttered in a low and husky voice. You felt his body next to yours, coming closer with every passing second. He liked the way your body was reacting to his that’s why he enjoyed this closeness even more.

He brushed your hair aside, over your left shoulder to expose your bare neck to him. His breath left a tickling sensation on your skin in order to make your body shiver. He was so close.

“W-why are you looking at me like that?” you stammered, mentally smacking yourself for asking that kind of a stupid question.

“You are just so beautiful.”

Butterflies started to do somersaults in your belly and you blushed about his words. You wanted to mirror that compliment, but you were too paralyzed by his words and actions. Because he indeed was beautiful, although you believed this word wouldn’t do him justice. He was beyond beautiful and made your heart flutter like crazy.

You turned your head to glance at him just to be blown away by the way he was looking at you. But the next moment that magic was gone as a sizzling noise broke in on that intimate moment the two of you just had.

“Shit!”

Kihyun let go of you and dashed aside, trying to take the pan as fast as possible since it was going to boil over. You tried to suppress an amused laugh yet you couldn’t help but chuckle about what just had happened. Such irony!

“Did the master chef get distracted?” you asked mockingly, smiling angellike as you turned to face him. He soon had everything under control again but you haven’t expected anything less.

“Don’t be so mischievous!”, he scoffed.

“Why not? You have to admit it’s kinda ironic.” You grinned at him and he just laughed, shrugging his shoulders as a silent apology.

As expected everything was simply delicious, so as the whine he had opened for you, and right after dinner, you inevitably asked yourself if he’d cook for you more often from now on. You just hoped he would.

“Thank you,” you muttered to make him lift his head.

“For?”

“… everything. For inviting me over, for trying to teach me how to cook. You knew I’m a lost cause when it comes to this, but you tried anyway.”

Kihyun shrugged his shoulders. “I just like spending time with you and I figured it would be worth a try,” he said as if it wasn’t a big deal. But to you it was. Your heart was beating faster because of his words and you mentally squealed, trying to pull yourself together.

You just smiled at him, brushing your hair behind your ear as you looked at your hands placed in your lap. To be honest, you were quite nervous since this was the first time in forever you had something like a date. It was the first time since… you found out.

That nervousness was still there when it was finally time to go back home. You were standing in the corridor, ready you leave his apartment, but something was holding you back. Maybe it was Kihyun looking at you with this thrilling spark in his eyes, paralyzing your whole body.

He was moving closer, his gaze glued to your eyes just to take a glimpse at your lips as he stopped right in front of you. Your heart was beating faster and faster while you wait for what was about to happen.

You knew what he had in mind but it felt like years until he finally leaned in, letting his face slowly approaching yours. And then, just when it finally was about to happen, someone knocked on his door.

Without thinking it through you used this interruption, to open the door in your back. You couldn’t have known who was standing right behind you but as soon as you found out you blushed hard and wished the ground would open up and swallow you.

“Oh, I’m not disturbing, am I?” you heard a melodic voice right next to you. 4B, again. Of course!

Kihyun looked at the both of you with a frown, silently cursing about this ultimately shitty timing. Why did something, or someone, always have to interfere?

“N-no,” you stuttered, shaking your head. “I was about to go.” You didn’t dare to look at him as you waved a silent goodbye in order to vanish into your apartment on the other side.

As you closed the door you leaned your back on it, closing your eyes with a pounding heart. You didn’t know whether to be relieved or sad about how the evening had come to an end. Maybe you weren’t ready for something new and maybe that’s why you were such a bundle of nerves when the man of your dreams was about to kiss you. Maybe.

That night you didn’t get much sleep since your head was spinning, trying to figure out what was wrong with you. You always felt secure when you were with him but for some reason, you didn’t trust yourself anymore. Yes, you liked him, probably even more than that. Yes, you enjoyed every single moment with him. And yes, your heart was pounding like crazy when he smiled at you. So what was the real problem here? You had no idea, but you were dying to find out.

The next morning you were a tired mess as you scuffed into the kitchen to make some coffee, hoping it would help you liven up. Out of the corner of your eyes, you saw Kihyun standing in his kitchen, too. He had seen you too and smiled, with a wink although he was quite amused about your condition. Of course, he had no idea that he was the reason for your sleepless night. How could he?

You tried to smile too, but you were too exhausted to accomplish. He tilted his head, wondering what was going on just to make silly faces to bring back the smile on your face. And he succeeded. You had to laugh so hard, you almost spilled your coffee on the counter. Yes, you liked him.

After you somehow managed to get ready for the day, you decided to go over to apologize for disappearing that fast. Now you were just embarrassed about your behavior last night, thinking you should’ve waited for him to send her away. Well, you sure would get a second chance to make it better. And you would.

As you made your way to the other side you suddenly freeze, not making any move. A stinging pain arrowed right through your heart as you saw him. And her.

They were standing in the inner yard, her arms wrapped around his neck with her lips on his.

Tears filled your eyes as you span on your heals, running back into your apartment slamming the door shut with a loud bang. You leaned against it, sliding down and burying your face in your hands as you start to cry uncontrollably.

How could you even think for one second that he’d honestly and truly like you? Someone like him! Your heart burst into a million pieces as you thought about it. He could have ten girls on each finger, so why would he choose you?

It took hours until you somehow had settled down again, sitting in the living room staring empty-eyed at the TV. As your doorbell rang you didn’t make any move, not willing to see or talk to someone. But as it rang, again and again, you pushed your stiff body off of the couch to trudge through your corridor to open the door.

You froze again. There he was, looking as gorgeous as always. He was just smiling at you and you could’ve sworn he was even more beautiful today.

“What do you want?” you asked, sounding much more miffed as intended.

Kihyun’s eyes widened since he was surprised by the harsh sound of your voice. “’s something wrong?”

“No, everything’s just perfect!” you hissed between clenched teeth, folding your arms in front of your chest.

He scratched his head, wondering what could’ve possibly gone wrong. “You confuse me, Y/N.”

“Oh, am I?” You snorted, getting mad more and more. “Look who’s talking!”

“What the hell is going on?”

“I saw you! With 4B!”

He froze, his eyes growing bigger and bigger as he realized what you were talking about. Pure anxiety hit him, hoping he wouldn’t lose you just now. He wanted to explain. To say something, anything. But not a single word left his lips.

“It’s not… I’m -”

“Oh, it’s not what it looked like? I bet it does!”

“Y/N -”

“Just skip it, okay? I’ve heard that all before. Just do me a favor and get lost, okay?” And with that, you slammed the door shut right in front of his face.

Heavily breathing you felt tears filling your eyes all over again. You were just so angry! And disappointed. And heartbroken. Again! How could he? Sure, you weren’t in a relationship but you somehow thought you were dating now, even though no one actually named it. Things seemed so obvious. So easy. So perfect. And now everything was shattered to pieces, so as your heart.

So days passed by. You tried to move on, even though you felt like shit. You somehow managed only the bare necessities, not leaving your apartment apart from that. Also, you ignored every attempt of Kihyun to talk to you. He knocked on the door countless times a day. He was calling your name, begging you to open the door, but you didn’t. You just hoped he’d give up one day, but he was very persistent when it came to you. He wouldn’t give up until you gave him a chance to explain himself, no matter how long it would take.

As you were about to leave your apartment you saw him through the kitchen window so you tried to hide from him, but it was too late. He’d seen you nevertheless.

“Y/N?” He was right on the other side of the door, but you just closed your eyes leaning your forehead against it. Hearing his voice was too much, you were still so heartbroken.

“I know you’re there. I saw you.” Silence. You just couldn’t do or say anything. “Please, Y/N, open the door. Talk to me!”

You hesitated. Would you manage to face him? A part of you wanted to hear what he had to say, even though you were quite sure there was nothing he could say to heal your heart.

“I miss you, Y/N. So much. Just… please let me explain."

And you finally did it. You opened the door oh so slowly, just enough for you to look through an open gap. "Go away, Kihyun,” you said, almost whispering.

He looked like a mess, but that didn’t diminish his beauty. You could tell by a look into his eyes how tired he was, and you just wanted to hug him to tell him everything’s going to be okay. But it wasn’t. It never would.

“No. Just listen to me, please. Let me explain.”

You thought about it, still not sure if you could handle it. But with a sigh, you took a step back to let him in. “You have five minutes.”

He followed you into your living room, not being able to take a seat because he was too flustered. He knew he only had this one chance, that’s what made it even worse for him.

“It really isn’t what it looked like. I know everything I’ll say now sounds like a really bad drama scene, but I swear to god it’s the truth!” he started, running his fingers through his hair while he tried to sort all the thoughts in his head. “Look, Y/N, she kissed me.”

You rolled your eyes. “Really?”

“You have to believe me. I never would’ve done this. I don’t even like her, okay? I was just being nice whenever she came around because, fuck, that’s just how I roll! I’m just friendly towards everyone, whether I like them or not.”

Silence. You needed to think about it. Yes, he indeed was friendly to everyone at any time. Probably he’s one of the friendliest people you’ve ever met and, to be honest, that’s something you liked about him a lot.

“She came over to ask if I could help her with something I don’t even remember. But, I swear, she means nothing to me. I pushed her away as soon as I realized what’s happening."

And that’s when you started to have hope again. Sure it sounded like a bad drama scene, just like he said, but a part of you wanted to believe him anyway. You needed to.

"Are you telling the truth?”

“Hell, of course, I am. Please, Y/N. I never would do anything to hurt you.” Kihyun made his way to you, carefully reaching out for your hands to take them into his. “I really like you, Y/N. A lot. And I just miss what we had. I’d never throw that away!”

You felt tears in your eyes, sighing in relief as he slowly clasps you in his arms. “I’m sorry, Kihyun. I’m so so sorry."

"Sssh. Don’t be. I’m the one who needs to apologize.”

“But you didn’t do anything wrong?” you mumbled into his shirt.

“I hurt you. And I can’t express how sorrowful I am."

He gently pushed you away so he could see your face again. His hands cupped your face while he wiped away your tears with his thumbs. "Please, stop crying. I can’t stand it any longer."

You sniveled, trying to calm yourself down again. There’s no need to cry anymore. Everything seemed to be okay again. You knew he was being honest with you. You could read it in his eyes.

Soon your tears had dried and you were beyond relieved you decided to give him a chance to explain everything.

"Kihyun?”

“Hm?”

“I like you, too.”

He chuckled, pulling you close as his lips found yours. Your eyes closed and you wrapped your arms around his neck while he kissed you as gently and tender as anyone before him. The way he held you close made you melt into his arms.

This kiss was so passionate, so perfect, neither of you could open your eyes as you part. Kihyun leans his forehead against yours, eyes still closed.

“Thank you for trusting me,” he whispered. “I promise I’ll never hurt you again.”

“I know you won’t,” you answered with your softest voice.

Somehow you just knew he was different. You should’ve realized way earlier, but now you knew. He was someone special, he was beyond unique. And you’re more than sure, you and he would last forever and ever.

#monsta x #mx #kihyun #yoo kihyun #kihyun scenario #kiyhun imagine #kihyun fanfic #monsta x scenario #monsta x imagine #monsta x fanfic #kihyun fluff #fluff #kpop scenario #kpop imagine #kpop fanfic #request #Anonymous #neighbor!AU

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judgmentofcorruption · 5 years ago

Text

Episode 7–Your Daughter is There; Scene 3

Judgment of Corruption, pages 205-212

In order to enter the Millennium Tree Forest, one needed a travel permit issued by the Sisters of Clarith. As it was a vast forest there were countless secret pathways, but as Shiro had one such travel permit in her possession, the crew was able to go in through the front entrance like normal.

At the church that stood by that entrance in place of a checkpoint, the nuns there appeared to want to say something to Shiro. But as she was wearing a military uniform and immediately pressed onward after quickly flashing the travel permit, in the end there was no conversation between them.

“Going into holy land is such a bother. I’ve heard that they’re starting to take high tolls from people who don’t have travel permits. Even though this isn’t their land. …They might call themselves a church, but in the end it’s more like money-making racke—”

Bruno had been grumbling to himself, but when he noticed Shiro’s expression turning sullen he immediately shut up.

Without Bruno talking, they were frankly an extraordinarily quiet lineup. The three of them silently advanced through the forest.

The road looked very well organized, apparently maintained by the Held devotees. One could see a few scattered wooden cabins nearby. These were the dwellings of woodcutters who had been granted a license from the Sisters of Clarith.

According to the information Feng had obtained, one of them was the home of the ‘Beastmaster’.

“…Maybe we should try canvassing the place.”

Bruno and the others visited one of the wooden houses. The man inside, with a beard that suited being a woodcutter, appeared to be in the middle of relaxing after having finished supper.

“Hngh? Whaddya want?”

“We just have a couple of questions for you…We heard that the Beastmaster of ‘Zeus’ lived around here.”

“Ah…You must mean that spooky young girl. She’s a little ways along the road from here—”

Suddenly, a bang reverberated through the house.

“Wh-what!?”

The woodcutter dashed outside in a panic.

“Eeeeekh!”

He then fell on his hindquarters, staring up at the sky.

Bruno and the others ran out after him.

“What in…!?”

--The forest had completely changed from a few minutes before.

The branches of all the trees around them had begun to stretch at a bizarrely rapid speed. It was as though they were live snakes.

The branches stabbed into the road, moving to wrap up the surrounding huts.

And the writhing branches—headed straight for Bruno and the others.

“--! Watch out!”

Shiro took both Bruno and Postman in her arms and sprinted for the shack that they’d just been inside.

“…Dammit! That woodcutter’s still—”

But the woodcutter had made it back to the house a little bit behind them.

“…You’re awful. Don’t leave me behind like that.”

“Um…uh…sorry.”

The tree branches continued to lengthen, until they had completely sealed up the entrance to the small hut.

Then they finally stopped moving.

“…Now we can’t get out.” Bruno asked Shiro, “Is this normal for this forest?”

“Nuh uh…this would be a first.”

Shiro drew her pistol and aimed it at the branches.

Then she fired, three times.

--But the wall of branches didn’t budge an inch.

“I guess that’s no use…Looks like we’re not breaking through without any heavy artillery.”

“Hmm—I wonder if this is also the work of the ‘Beastmaster’. Maybe they sensed we were coming.”

“I don’t know about that. I would think that if they had such unbelievable abilities as this, they would be going by some other nickname than ‘Beastmaster’.”

“At any rate, it doesn’t seem like these branches are coming inside the house. We’ve got to come up with a way to get outside somehow…”

The woodcutter was trembling in the corner of the hut.

“H-how horrible…It’s a curse…from the Millennium Tree…I must have angered it by cutting too many trees in the forest—"

Listening to him, Bruno let out a slow sigh. “A curse, huh. Well, I suppose this being the work of a Millennium Tree would be the most appropriate reason. Is that sort of like the god around here?”

“It is.”

“Though I’ve no idea of there’s even such a thing as gods,” Bruno said, glancing over at Shiro.

…Whatever the case, it meant that Bruno, Shiro, Postman, the woodcutter, and myself were all trapped in this hut toget--

--Wait, this is ridiculous!

If it really is the work of the Millennium Tree, then that’s a clear violation of the rules.

The Millennium Tree cannot interfere with human beings!

I’ll have to lodge a complaint!

I may be a mere bat, but I’m at least able to communicate with the Millennium Tree via telepathy!

I called out to the Millennium Tree that governed this forest—Michaela.

I immediately received a reply.

<…Oh? Well, this is quite unusual to have you here>

<--That’s right. I’m doing this under my own judgment>

<…? What’s that?>

<…Lich has started to become more active>

<No, not really>

<…Then this conversation is over. Hurry up and put those branches where they were. If you don’t—I won’t be able to get out!>

<Sigh…Well, I figure now’s a good time anyway-->

--The forest returned to its normal state in the blink of an eye.

While marveling at these events, Bruno and the others inquired as to the home of the “Beastmaster” from the woodcutter and headed there as planned…Eventually, they reached their destination.

There was no one inside.

“Did she…escape?” Bruno carefully searched through the hut. “This candle…it looks like it was only just put out. The melted wax hasn’t solidified just yet. She might still be around. Let’s look for her.”

Shiro nodded at Bruno’s suggestion, and the two of them started to head outside.

But Postman did not move to go after them.

“…? What’s wrong, Postman?” Bruno asked.

Postman was carrying a doll with both arms.

“Did you…find that in this hut?”

Postman nodded.

The moment that he was close enough to see the doll, Bruno’s eyes widened.

“That doll—it looks almost exactly like Michelle. What is something like that doing here…”

Gun still in hand, Shiro suggested, “If that belongs to the ‘Beastmaster’…Then maybe that means her aim was Michelle all along. –Postman, do you want to send the doll to Hel and the others?”

“Of course, this may very well turn out to be critical evidence—Got it, Postman. You can deliver this as a mail carrier. As for us…We’ll chase after this ‘Beastmaster’!”

Bruno and Shiro hurriedly raced out of the hut.

After that, Postman went—not to Hel and the others.

Instead, they went to a dwelling of the USE allied forces…where Ma lived.

“I see, you found this in the forest—thank you, Postman.”

After handing Ma the doll, Postman disappeared somewhere.

“The Clockworker’s Doll…To think we’d be reunited again like this.”

She quietly set the doll on the table.

“This is another ‘Vessel of Deadly Sin’…But it has no use to m—Wait…Perhaps…”

She appeared to be considering something.

“…Yes. Depending on how you look at it, this just might be what I’ve been waiting for.”

She suddenly seized the doll in her grip.

“Let’s make this doll—into a replacement for Michelle—"

Ma’s eyes began to sparkle mysteriously.

<<prev------directory------next>>

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jahaanofmenaphos · 5 years ago

Photo

Art by the awesome @tommieglenn!

Of Gods and Men Summary:

When the gods returned to Gielinor, their minds were only on one thing: the Stone of Jas, a powerful elder artefact in the hands of Sliske, a devious Mahjarrat who stole it for his own ends and entertainment. He claims to want to incite another god wars, but are his ulterior motives more sinister than that? And can the World Guardian, Jahaan, escape from under Sliske’s shadow?

Read the full work here:

ARCHIVE OF OUR OWN

FANFICTION.NET

TUMBLR CHAPTER INDEX

QUEST 09: OUR SPIRITS, KINDRED

QUEST SUMMARY:

When Ariane is kidnapped and the signs point to Sliske, Jahaan is forced to confront the Mahjarrat once again. But this time, things take a turn for the twisted, and Jahaan uncovers the truth behind Sliske’s obsession with him. Can Jahaan survive Sliske’s games? After all, broken bones heal faster than a broken mind…

CHAPTER 2: REST FOR THE WEARY

After leaving the Wizards’ Tower, Jahaan was at a loss. Between Ozan’s condition and Ariane’s cutting words, his head was swirling. The effects of the pain relievers had also worn off, so he was fighting through the dull aching of his ribs, knowing there wasn’t an apothecary in Draynor. Well, not one that he would trust, anyway, and he didn’t want to get desperate enough to seek aid from the resident witches.

And so he just started walking. He didn’t know what else to do. He walked on throughout the day and well into the evening, following the water’s edge around Draynor Village. Since he was veering west, Jahaan settled upon Port Sarim as his destination, camping in a small clearing for the night. It wasn’t as peaceful as when he did it in Catherby, mind. Jahaan was still too close to Draynor, and the constant grey clouds that draped over the town caused a constant chill in the air. On top of that, it took too long to find firewood that wasn’t damp, and despite having his backpack with his small fishing net on him, all he was able to catch was a couple of tiny shrimp that barely did enough to sate his appetite. Rocks and sharp leaves dug into his back and exposed skin all night long, worsened by the amount he was tossing and turning from the aching of his ribs.

Utterly miserable, Jahaan left the next dawn with about an hour’s sleep in his system.

Port Sarim had repaired the damage since his last visit there. In fact, you couldn’t tell the port town had been subject to a dragonkin attack at all. The buildings had been fixed and the scorch marks long since painted over. He did recognise Patchy though, standing outside the bar and sporting a rather snazzy peg-leg. Those things were quite the fashion with pirates, after all.

Jahaan remarked to himself how it was nice to see the pirate back on his feet, but quickly regretted the poor choice of words.

Without even stopping for a drink, Jahaan took the first boat he could out to Catherby, revelling in the change of climate as he approached the pristine shores. It felt like eons ago when Jahaan mused to himself about settling down in Catherby. Right now, he couldn’t think of anything he wanted more.

And so, after venturing slightly into the wooded area, he built himself a fire, readied his net to catch some more substantial fish, and breathed a sigh of relief as he realised the only sounds he could hear were the swishing of the waves and the low cry of distant seagulls.

The next day, Jahaan found Postie Pete and sent a letter to Ozan, wishing him well and saying how he’d be in Catherby for the foreseeable future. However, he never heard back. After two weeks, Jahaan managed to find Postie Pete and ask how Ozan seemed when he delivered the letter. It turned out that Ariane was taking in all of Ozan’s mail, which explained why Jahaan wasn’t receiving any correspondence.

“If you see him yourself, can you wish him well for me?” Jahaan asked with a lump in his throat. He didn’t want Ozan to think he wasn’t bothering to write to him, after all.

Instead, Postie Pete had been hurt at the thought of his mail being intercepted. Ariane said he’d give the letter straight to Ozan, and she’d lied.

“I’ll do one better, mate,” the skull rattled as its jaw bones knocked together. “You write another one, and I’ll make sure to hand it to him personally this time. It’s my honour and duty as a postman for the Gielinorian Postal Service to make sure every letter is delivered promptly and with integrity!”

Jahaan loved how seriously Postie Pete took his work - it was admirable. So, he took him up on his offer straight away, quickly writing out a new letter and placing it in the skull’s mouth. Then, Postie Pete went on his way.

Regular correspondence returned between Jahaan and Ozan after that. Much to his relief, Jahaan heard that Ozan was recuperating rather well, enough to abandon bedrest. Still, he was too weak to do much other than bumble around the Wizards’ Tower, to which he confessed his worst ailment was severe cabin fever.

They didn’t even have booze there.

His burns has scarred over a fair bit, but they were still hurting him a great deal. Out of curiosity, he tried to draw back an old bow he’d found when wandering around in the basement. However, he barely got halfway to the bowstring being taunt before his muscles gave out and he couldn’t take the pain anymore. The wizards had thrown around the idea of potential nerve damage and said that recovery would be a slow process, but with the right amount of rest and rehabilitation, he would be able to wield a bow again. From the outset though, it looked like Jahaan’s ribs would heal long before Ozan’s wounds.

Jahaan had already withdrawn his sword and armour set from the bank, trying to reaccustom himself to the weight and feel of it all. There was no longer an issue with donning the armour - his body could handle that after the many weeks that had passed - but the swords were still an issue. Wielding with his right hand was no problem, and he could spar and parry almost as good as he always could. His left side, however, was another matter. Each swing would lightly stab at him, gradually getting worse and worse. He couldn’t practice for more than a few minutes at a time before the pain became too much.

So for now, duel wielding was out of the question, but he was optimistic about his recovery.

Jahaan wished he could say the same about Ozan. He wanted to go back and visit him, but thought better of it. Regardless of Ariane’s feelings towards him, Ozan was getting good care in the Wizards’ Tower and he didn’t need anyone distracting him from that.

At least, that’s what Jahaan kept telling himself.

In spite of it all, Jahaan couldn’t picture himself leaving Catherby anytime soon. He’d gotten back into the routine of fishing for the majority of the day and selling what he didn’t need to eat, accumulating a tiny sum as the days went on. It was calming, and he could pretend he wasn’t the World Guardian for a while, as selfish as that may be.

But that calm was slashed into fragments when he saw Ozan get off the boat at Catherby dock.

Jahaan was just finishing up selling his surplus supply for the day and planned to stop for a drink or two at the port’s pub. As the fishmonger was counting his coins, Jahaan casually observed the passengers disembarking the charter ship from Draynor, and had to do a double take when he saw a familiar figure coming his way. Dark quiffed hair, yellow and green tunic, bandages wrapping the exposed skin on his arms… there was no mistaking it.

Abandoning the merchant, Jahaan quickly rushed to intercept him, a grin as wide as the boat’s sail. “Ozan!”

However, when he got close enough to lock eyes with the man, his grin vanished in a heartbeat.

“Jahaan! I’m so glad I found you,” Ozan was breathless, his face red and his eyes bloodshot. He looked like… he’d been crying.

Pulling Ozan out of the path of people, Jahaan’s concern flooded his tone as he urged, “Ozan, are you okay? What’s wrong?!”

“I-It’s Ariane!” Ozan sniffed. “She’s been kidnapped!”

“What?!” Jahaan gasped, pressing Ozan for more information.

Trying to steady his breathing, Ozan explained, “W-We were visiting Draynor. I went into a store, she waited outside. There was a loud screech, and then she was gone! No-one really saw anything, it all happened so fast! B-But they said someone was taken the day before, too, by some vyre-like creature, or a large bird, or something, I don’t know! I panicked, I didn’t know what to do! S-So I came to you as fast as I could. They took Ariane, Jahaan!”

In an effort to calm down his hysterical friend, Jahaan pulled Ozan into a tight hug, assuring, “It’s going to be okay. We’ll get her back.”

Pulling away, Jahaan asked, “Do you know anything else about these kidnappings? Anything that could help us?”

Ozan’s voice turned dark. “Well, I heard that Relomia, the emissary of Sliske, was there when the other person was taken. She seemed… shocked.”

“Sliske?” Jahaan blinked, confusion momentarily getting the best of him. Shaking those thoughts clear, he resolved, “Alright, we’re going to Draynor right now to find out what she knows.”

Unfortunately, Ozan had arrived on the last ship of the day, and there wouldn’t be another one until the break of dawn. Luckily, Jahaan had built up quite a reputation with some of the ship’s captains that he saw on a daily basis, and for double the fare, one of them agreed to sail throughout the night to land in Port Sarim by first light. Jahaan already had his armour and weapons with him, getting used to wearing it on a daily basis again, so they left immediately.

After arriving in Port Sarim the next morning, the two bribed a local fisherman to sail them across the short expanse of water between the port and Draynor Village. It cut down on hours worth of walking.

In Draynor, it was always night. Crows screamed incessantly, squawking bloody murder, becoming white noise to the villages residents. There was a reason house prices in Draynor were so low, and that’s because those who pass through there generally don’t want to do so again. Despite it being the nearest occupied settlement west of Lumbridge, the village’s council isolated itself from politics of the surrounding towns and cities, providing for itself where it could to limit trade. No-one had ever seen these council members though; many speculated they were just a fabrication by the real power of Draynor, the occupant of the house on the hill. Draynor Manor was haunted, it was no small secret - the trees attacked anyone who dared approach the door. It is widely believed to be the final resting place of Count Draynor Draken himself. No-one had confirmed this for sure, because those who went inside Draynor Manor never returned.

Stalking through the paths leading them towards the dismal market square, Ozan and Jahaan kept their guard up, wary of the eyes following their every move.

Draynor didn’t like outsiders.

It was behind the house of Aggie the Witch, the seller of clothing dyes, where Relomia was loitering.

The pair stormed up to her.

“All right, Relomia, start talking - what have you and Sliske done with Ariane?”

However, instead of the cocky response Jahaan was expecting, when Relomia turned around to face him, her eyes looked red and puffy, like she’d been crying. “Oh thank goodness! Jahaan, you have to help me! Sliske's been kidnapped!”

That… was not what he was expecting. “Come again?”

“It’s the dragonkin!” she explained, breathless and sniffling. “I don’t know what they did to him, but they found a way to strip him of his magic! He’s powerless! He needs our help!”

Ozan shivered, gulping down the lump in his throat. “If the creatures that took Sliske also took Ariane...” he didn’t dare to finish the thought.

Jahaan squeezed his eyes tightly shut, trying to regain some semblance of clarity inside his cluttered mind. “Okay, okay calm down… let’s just take this one step at a time. I can see why the dragonkin would want Sliske - death to the False Users and all - but why would they take Ariane?”

“I don’t know! But you have to get him back!” Relomia was practically begging. “And the Stone of Jas... my master’s strong, but I don’t know how long he can keep the location of the Stone a secret from them…”

Despite having a strong mind to tell Relomia that the dragonkin could keep that giggling, manipulative son of a bitch for all he cared, Jahaan knew he was over a barrel with this one; they had to get Ariane back, and Jahaan had seen firsthand the destruction the dragonkin could cause. If they utilised the power of the Stone…

Relenting, Jahaan announced, “Okay, if there’s a chance the dragonkin took Ariane and Sliske, we’ll try and get them back.”

Relieved, Relomia leapt over to hug Jahaan tightly, colliding with his armour. Awkwardly, he patted her on the back until he was freed.

Straightening out his platebody, Jahaan cleared his throat and asked, “So what happened, exactly?”

Her shoulders sagging, Relomia replied, “I'm not sure. Sliske sent me a message from the Shadow Realm. He was surrounded by dragonkin and somehow stripped of his power. I know they haven't found the Stone yet, but it is only a matter of time.”

The thought of facing off against dragonkin wasn’t exactly something Jahaan was looking forward to. It only got worse after he inquired, “Do you know where they took him?”

“The last message Sliske sent me said he was in a dragonkin prison near Daemonheim.”

Shoulders sagging, Jahaan was exasperated as he replied, “How do you expect us to get to Daemonheim? It’s continents away!”

“Oh, right!” Relomia slapped her forehead before rummaging around in her napsack, eventually bringing out a small red and gold patterned ring. “This is a ring of kinship. It’ll get you there in a jiffy. Just put it on and trace your finger over the patterns.”

Ozan pulled out a similar ring from his pocket. “I’ll meet you there.”

From one awfully naff location to another, step right up: Daemonheim.

There was just so much SNOW.

In hindsight, a little more preparation wouldn’t have gone amiss before teleporting to the wastelands. The castle protruded in the distance, a lumpy silhouette between the white mists and clouding fog. Beneath it, the dungeons of Daemonheim, floors upon floors of beasts, puzzles, mazes, traps and pitfalls. Beneath all that? Zamorak’s current fortress.

Jahaan did not welcome the memory of being down there.

The pair walked among the ruins. Ghosts of dead warriors floated between the stones and broken statues. Some of these statues resembled dragonkin; it was widely believed that the location used to be home to a dragonkin lair, the lair of Kerapac specifically, but that was ancient history. Bilrach’s construction of the dungeons beneath the castle seemed to cause a voluntary relocation. At least, that’s what everyone thought. Perhaps they had kept some of their lair after all?

“Hey Jahaan, over there,” Ozan pointed to a wooden trapdoor only partially covered by the snow. As the two trotted over, Ozan commented, “This wasn’t here the last time I came by this area. Maybe this is the lair?”

Jahaan, on the other hand, didn’t seem too convinced. “Hmm… I don’t know… this looks like any regular trapdoor. Not very dragonkin-y, if you know what I mean.”

“...Dragonkin-y?”

“I know, I know, but you hear what I’m saying, right?”

Ozan pondered this for a moment. “Maybe it’s disguised?”

“Maybe…”

“It's still worth checking out,” Ozan maintained, heaving the trapdoor open, sliding the snow off as he did.

Climbing down the ladder, the stone corridor was barely lit by more than a few candles scattered along the walls haphazardly. As it stretched far down into the darkness in both directions, the pair took their chances heading east.

“This seems pretty abandoned,” Jahaan whispered. “I can’t hear a thing.”

Ozan nodded, biting his lip. “Do you think Relomia was confused?”

They made it to a crossroads, more corridors heading to the left and right, or they had the option to continue onwards.

“Maybe… maybe they’re in the Shadow Realm?” Jahaan considered, coming to halt. He tried to focus on blurring the edges of this world and the Shadow Realm, as Sliske’s gift had allowed, but before he could make any progress, a screeching scream came from their right, chilling them both to the core.

Jahaan slashed both of his swords from their sheaths, while Ozan tentatively removed his newly acquired bow from around his shoulders.

Gulping, Jahaan ventured, “S...Sliske?”

The sound of beating wings fast encroached on them, the glint of glowing red eyes zooming their way. It was fight or flight, and the former lost by a landslide. Instantly, Ozan and Jahaan took off running in the opposite direction, but it was too late. The creature caught up to them, there were screams, and then darkness…

When Jahaan opened his eyes, he was lying face down on a dirty concrete floor. From the lack of weight surrounding him as he tried to pull himself to his feet, he deduced that he’d been stripped of his armour and weapons.

“Congratulations, Janny. You ‘saved’ me from my own escape attempt.”

Jahaan recognised that voice.

Nursing the back of his head, Jahaan could already feel the formations of a bruise. “Sliske? I got knocked out… what just happened? Where’s Ozan?”

“Well, I was having a jolly old time making my getaway, before I got blocked by someone,” Sliske chided, patronizingly. “Now we’re in a slightly less escapable dragonkin prison, and our hosts have learned a thing or two since last time, so now the guard won’t even talk to me. On the bright side, at least that means we can spend some quality time together!”

“Don’t act so fucking cheerful,” Jahaan snapped, whirling on Sliske, glad for the metal bars separating them. “Don’t you remember how you left me in those tunnels? How you nearly throttled me to death?!”

“Ah, but only nearly, World Guardian,” Sliske pointed out, raising his chin so dark lidded eyes looked down upon Jahaan. “You should do well to remember that. Besides, you killed Zemmy, so what does it matter?”

“Yeah, but your brother and I nearly got taken out in the process!”

“Wahi would never let an oaf like Zemouregal get the best of him,” Sliske’s chuckle had a sharp edge to it. “And you, you had really begun to test my patience. Be thankful I left you there.”

“Thankful like I would be for a hole in my head,” Jahaan muttered under his breath. Rubbing his aching temples, he was already regretting his decision to save this incorrigible fool. So, to prevent their conversation spiralling further down the rabbit hole, Jahaan wanted to get back on track. “So, the dragonkin - do they have the Stone yet?”

“Not right now,” Sliske assured, nervously. It seemed as if he was just as happy with the change in topic. “But I’ve heard their mutterings… some of the things they’ve talked about doing to me, to make me reveal its location… it's gloriously disturbing. Sickeningly genius, in fact… but not when I’m on the receiving end of it.”

“Well we can’t let the dragonkin get their claws on the power of the Stone, and I need to find the others, so I’m going to try and find us a way out of here.”

Sliske sighed, wistfully. “My hero!”

Jahaan shot him a look. “Shut up, or I’ll change my mind.”

Ignoring the chorus of chuckles that followed, Jahaan went about trying to examine his cell and the surroundings for any potential weakness to exploit. The dragonkin guard was staring blankly into the middle distance, not paying much attention to anything.

If I can get the guard to come over here, I might be able to pickpocket a key or a weapon, Jahaan thought, before grabbing onto his cell bars and angrily shouting out, “Hey! Scaly!”

Alas, the dragonkin ignored him.

“Hey, get over here!”

Again, he was ignored with not even a glance in his direction.

Sighing, Jahaan stepped back and reconsidered his options. Then, it came to him. Maybe I can’t get him to come over here by myself, but I bet he’ll break up a brawl between Sliske and I… with the added bonus that I get to punch Sliske in the face

Turning back over to Sliske, Jahaan gleefully, yet in a hushed tone, exclaimed, “Alright Sliske, I have an idea!”

“Great! Let’s hear it.”

“Okay, you have to let me punch you in the face.”

“...I am now slightly less enthused about this plan…”

“Just hear me out,” Jahaan insisted, explaining, “If we can brawl, the guard will hopefully come into the cells to break us up. That happens, and I can swipe a key or something to pick the lock.”

Sliske’s eyes lightened slightly at hearing the plan, but they were still narrow as he argued, “Riiiight, but how come you get to punch me in the face and not the other way around?”

“Because I don’t trust you to pull your punches.”

Sliske nodded, shrugging. “You know what? That’s fair.”

Reaching through the bars that separated them, Jahaan grabbed a fist full of Sliske’s cloak and yanked him viciously, slamming the Mahjarrat’s face into the steel, before throwing a fierce jab at him.

“Ow! That was right in the eye!” Sliske whined with a wince.

“Take that Sliske!” Jahaan growled, looking at the dragonkin out of the corner of his eye.

Seeing no response, he punched him again.

“Hey, what?! OW!” Sliske pulled himself free of Jahaan’s grip and dabbed the back of his hand to his mouth. “I think my lip’s bleeding!”

“He’s not reacting,” Jahaan fretted. “Maybe if I hit you again?”

Sliske countered, “Or maybe he’ll react better to this!”

As quick as anything, the Mahjarrat reached through the bars, grabbed ahold of Jahaan’s hair and slammed his head into the bars with painful force.

Laughing, Sliske surmised, “Well, looks like your plan didn’t work after all.”

After shooting Sliske a dirty look, Jahaan rubbed the side of his head and said, “I guess not, but I do have another idea.”

“Good, but I’m not getting hit again.”

“No need, yet,” Jahaan assured with the flash of a crooked smile. “I’ve got another idea to get him over here. Watch this.”

Walking over to the bars, Jahaan called out, “Hey you! Give us some food!”

Naturally, he was ignored, so he continued, “You know, I have an encyclopedic knowledge of nursery rhymes and a singing voice that can generously be described as ‘grating’. I also have capacious lungs and endless stamina. In combination, these things can make guarding me… uncomfortable.”

Now, the guard at least turned an eye in his direction after this worrying development.

Challengingly, Jahaan threatened, “Give me some food or I’ll sing 'The Littlest Pyrefiend' at the top of my lungs on an endless loop.”

“Do it, you fool!” Sliske begged, desperately. “He’s not bluffing!”

With a grunt, the dragonkin went to fetch something from out of sight, then shuffled back over and slotted some grotesque looking food on a dirty plate through the bars, but too quickly to make a grab for the keys.

Seeing this, Sliske slumped against the wall. “You had one job…”

Jahaan contended, “I didn’t get the keys, but I think I can make a tool or a weapon out of this plate, as long as you can distract the guard long enough.”

“And how do you suppose I do that?”

Exasperatedly, Jahaan wearily replied, “I don’t know, Sliske! Tell him a story, insult him, seduce him - use your imagination!”

His eyes wide, Sliske couldn’t help but burst out laughing. “SEDUCE him? Seduce the dragonkin? My, you really are one saucy devil, Janny.”

“Just do something, Sliske,” Jahaan huffed. “I’m going to scrape this gunk down the drain.”

Shrugging, Sliske walked up to the front of his cell, cleared his throat and started, “Might I say, dear dragonkin, that your scales look fabulous in this light...”

When he forced the food down the drain, Jahaan noticed it fizz and bubble into an indescribable, gruesome mess below. Suddenly, his eyes lit up.

“What now, Jahaan?” Sliske hissed from the corner of his mouth.

“Keep distracting the guard - I have an idea,” Jahaan whispered. “The food I scraped into the drain is reacting with whatever’s down there… if it’s acidic or volatile I might be able to use it to melt through the lock.”

Sliske gagged. “That’s… vile, but I guess desperate times and all that.”

Motioning for Sliske to get back to his distractions, Jahaan set to work. Firstly, he tried to sharpen the edge of the plate on a brick, but instead, the loose brick popped out of the wall and the plate broke in half.

Meanwhile, Sliske tried his luck with the dragonkin guard, who seemed to be growing increasingly uncomfortable. “I think there must be something wrong with my eyes, because I can't seem to take them off you.”

Biting his lip, Sliske turned aside to Jahaan and whispered, “Can you hurry up with whatever whacky scheme you're trying? This place is making me stir-crazy, and I’m worried my attempts at flirting might actually be effective…”

Rolling his eyes, Jahaan worked to grind an edge into the plate half, turning it into a crude blade, one that, unfortunately, he quickly realised would be ineffective against the dragonkin. Then, he cut a strip of cloth from the bedding - even this caused the fragile blade to crack - and tied it to the piece of fallen brick, creating a legendary weapon of unparalleled destruction.

After crafting the ludicrous flail, he looked around the near distance to see if it could actually come in handy, or if all his DIY efforts had been in vain. When he saw the contents of the shelves next to Sliske’s cell, he had an idea.

Motioning Sliske over, he stated, “I need you to get me that vial off the shelf over there.”

“And how do you propose I do that?”

“With this,” Jahaan presented him with the flail. Sliske did not look impressed.

“Really? This is the best the infamous ‘World Guardian’ can come up with?”

“Right now, yes. So just get on with it.”

With an exasperated sigh, Sliske relented. “Fine, fine! Give me your ridiculous brick-on-a-rope and let’s get on with this.”

Visually locking onto his target, Sliske launched one end of the flail over the top of his cell bars and towards the potion. Miraculously, it lassoed its target, and once a tighter grip was applied, Sliske snapped it towards him and caught the potion as it flew through the air.

Jahaan couldn’t help but be impressed as the vial was slipped into his hands. The dragonkin, on the other hand, less so. Irritated by the motions, it grumbled, stalked over to Sliske’s cell, and threw the door open with a high pitched groan.

Edging backwards, Sliske held his hands up in defence. “Hey now, let’s be reasonable and-”

A punch across Sliske’s jaw cut the words from his throat. Cowering down, Sliske waited the beating out, hissing in pain with each strike. Fortunately, the dragonkin didn’t seem to press about what Sliske was doing, and he didn’t see the potion Jahaan was concealing behind his back. He also didn’t notice Jahaan subtly reach through the bars separating them and snagging a pouch from his cloak pocket. Peeking inside, he noted it contained small, white crystals, ones that Jahaan recognised. However, the keys were unfortunately out of reach on the other side of the dragonkin’s belt, but the crystals would do for now.

Some guard he is. Maybe he just fancied roughing Sliske up a little? Who could blame him.

Eventually, the dragonkin got bored and trudged away from the cell, leaving Sliske a bloodied and battered mess slumped against his cell wall.

“My face!” he picked himself up, wincing at the twinges of pain it induced. “Why is everyone hitting me in the face today?”

“Karma?”

Sliske shot him a look. “What was that, World Guardian?”

“Nothing, nothing...

Clutching his stomach, Sliske fumbled with a long and rough piece of fabric in his fingers. “In other news, I tore a strip of cloth from his robe. At least I can use it to bind my wounds.”

Jahaan winced. “Actually, I might need that.”

Sliske’s shoulders sagged. “Might or do? Because, you know, facial wounds and such.”

“I’m going to go with ‘do’. Turns out the potion you swiped and the crystals I lifted from the dragonkin are reagents, which I’m pretty sure I can use to make acid in the latrine. And I need the strip to make a facemask to stop myself from inhaling deadly fumes.”

“Well, look at you, the chemist,” Sliske drawled. “You’ve been spending too much time with the druids in Taverley, haven’t you? Well, fine, have the cloth, but this plan of yours better work.”

After taking the cloth strip from a reluctant Sliske, Jahaan tied it around his mouth and nose. Carefully, Jahaan poured the potion into the latrine, causing the slop below to change into a vivid green. Into this mix he added the crystals, and everything began hissing and smoking, with the stone of the latrine pitting visibly around the 'water' level. From the way it was reacting, it looked like it would make short work of the lock, but Jahaan realised he needed something to get the acid out without burning his hand off.

Coughing violently, Sliske pressed himself against the far wall of his cell, trying to pull his robe up over his nose. “Are you brewing RUM over there, Jahaan?!”

“Not quite,” the cloth strip wasn’t as effective as Jahaan had hoped, and he was feeling rather lightheaded. “I hope the dragonkin can’t smell this.”

Picking up the empty vial, Jahaan held his breath and tentatively removed the cloth strip protection. Thankfully he didn’t immediately knock himself out with the fumes, and in imitation of his amazing brick-on-a-rope, he tied the cloth strip around the neck of the bottle, ready to collect the acid. Dipping the bottle into the latrine, Jahaan filled it with acid and delicately pulled it out again. Just in time, too, as the cloth around the neck was eaten away to uselessness.

“I have the acid,” Jahaan whispered, subtly showing Sliske the vial of corrosive liquid.

“Great, let's get out of here.”

“Not yet - I need you to distract the guard one more time.”

Sliske growled, sternly, “I am not getting punched again!”

A small smile tugging on his lips, Jahaan explained, “You don't need to antagonise him. Just take this plate and redirect the light at him. I don't think he'll come in here and attack you, he'll likely just look away to stop being annoyed. Besides, if he does attack you, I'll throw this vial of acid at him.”

Jahaan had no intention of wasting the acid on saving Sliske from a beating, but the Mahjarrat bought it regardless.

With a huff, Sliske begrudgingly relented, “Fine, give me the plate.”

With the plate half, Sliske angled it to use what meager light the room had to his advantage, casting a bright beam at the dragonkin guard. Annoyed, the dragonkin turned away.

“Well he doesn't seem to like being blinded,” Sliske remarked. “And he hasn't come in here yet. So there’s that.”

“Huh. I didn’t think that would actually work.”

“So you thought he’d come to beat me again?”

“I thought it was seventy-thirty in favour.”

“Thanks, Janny. Anyways, don't you have a lock to melt?

“Good point. Back in a second.”

When Jahaan used the vial of acid on the cell door, the acid hissed quietly into the locking mechanism, which emerged from the bottom of the lock in a greasy, metal sludge. When his lock was no more, he handed the rest of the vial to Sliske, who proceeded to melt his lock in the same fashion.

“Sliske, let’s get out of here. If we zig-zag around him, I bet we can dodge the guard. Or, maybe, we can get some more acid and throw it at him. Or perhaps we-”

Chuckling, Sliske interjected, “Slow down, Janny. You’ll give yourself a stitch.”

“Well, we’re in a bit of a rush here,” Jahaan hissed, nervously eying the guard. “We have to get Ozan and Ariane, and take the Stone back from the dragonkin!”

Straightening up, Sliske’s demeanour changed. He seemed much calmer now. Worryingly so. “The hostages are fine, Jahaan.”

“Sliske, what are you talking about, the dragonkin have them!”

Sliske raised an eyebrow. “Do they?”

“Yes, you told me they-” finally, it hit him. Jahaan’s shoulders straightened, and his face went blank. “...and now I am on the same page. You lied to me.”

“Oh yes,” Slike smirked, smugly.

“The dragonkin don't have the hostages?”

“Nope. That isn't even a real dragonkin out there. It's just a wight in a costume.”

Jahaan regarded the dragonkin once more. “It's a pretty elaborate costume.”

“I know, right? I didn't even have to make it, he just had one!”

“And you were never kidnapped?”

“Nope,” Sliske grinned. “I just grabbed a bunch of people for my scheme and got my fangirl to lure you in. And let me say, your performance was exemplary. I was on the edge of my seat the whole time!”

Jahaan sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Sliske, I am going to leave now.”

“But what about the hostages, hm?” Sliske queried with a victorious undertone.

"You've had your fun, you got me here - now you can let them go," Jahaan’s voice was an unsteady mix between a demand and a plea. There was a darkness behind Sliske's eyes, however, one that Jahaan recognised. It made him uneasy, set him on edge.

"Ah, I think I'll hang onto them for a little while longer. You see, I have a bit of entertainment in mind, and I fear my stellar company isn't quite enough of an incentive to make you stick around. Now, if we're quite finished, join me through that door and find out why I brought you here. Oh, and don’t worry, all that precious armour Azzy so kindly gifted you is safe and sound; my brother’s little humble abode is finally cluttered with something other than dusty tomes. I just needed to level the playing field, is all. All in the name of sportsmanship, I assure you.”

With a click of his fingers, Sliske teleported away.

Leaning back against the cell wall, Jahaan exhaled deeply, regretting every single decision he’d made today. Except one. “Damnit Sliske… I’m so glad I punched you…”

DISCLAIMER:

As Of Gods and Men is a reimagining, retelling and reworking of the Sixth Age, a LOT of dialogue/characters/plotlines/etc. are pulled right from the game itself, and this belongs to Jagex.

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#sliske

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naoa-ao3 · 1 year ago

Text

My Generation

Giles get's a letter from Ethan as an old man, asking him to meet for a drink. Set a couple of decades after the show ends. Originally written in 2016.

The years had not been bad. Oh, there had been hard ships but nothing they hadn't been able to handle. For Giles, he didn't regret any of them. He had a family and an interesting life. A long one in fact but as always, the past never truly went away.

Sitting down he slit it open and unfolded it.

"Dear Rupert,

P.S.

If you come I will lift the curse on the postman."

He sat down opposite and cleared his throat. "Lift the curse, Ethan."

Ethan laughed. "Hello to you too, Ripper."

"The postman. . ."

"Already done. I had a spell alert me when you stepped into town."

Feeling more comfortable Giles sat back. "What do you want Ethan?"

Ethan twitched slightly, seemingly annoyed by his directness. Giles figured he'd probably wanted to make a dramatic entrance. "Just calling up an old friend. I don't think that's so wrong."

"Black mailing your old friends isn't quite the same thing."

"I didn't trust you'd come."

Giles nodded, that was fair. Well, not fair to the postman but assuming he would have come was. "And why are you calling me?"

Ethan laughed and motioned for a waitress. "A pitcher dear, and two glasses. The beer here's rather good."

"You're not answering the question."

"Ethan!"

Another look of annoyance. "Very well. . . I've got cancer." Giles's eyes widened. He had not been expecting something so. . . well. . . mundane. "Pancreatic."

"Pan. . ." Really, he had no idea what to say. Problems with demons, a pact with the devil. . . anything but this. "Ethan. . ."

"Oh, don't look at me like that. I don't need pity and you're dying too, just a little slower."

"R-really I- I don't know what to say. . ."

Ethan waved a hand dramatically. "Pft. I didn't call you here to discuss that. Terribly boring really."

"Ethan, have you tried treatments?"

"There would have been a chance. . ."

"A chance. I didn't feel particularly inclined to try on a chance."

Giles looked down at his hands. "How long?"

"Do I have left? A couple months. The doctors said six. That was two ago. I know I'm dying. I can feel it."

"Ethan. . ."

"But again, I didn't call you to have you pity me."

"I don't pity you, I feel sorry for you. It's not the same thing."

"Well don't. We haven't even seen each other in almost thirty years. As I recall you handed me off to the Hitler Youth rather easily the last time I saw you."

Giles felt his jaw tighten. "You had turned me into a demon."

"All in good fun."

"My Slayer nearly killed me."

But Ethan had moved his beer to the side and had leaned across the table, smiling. "We did have our fun though, didn't we Ripper?"

Giles met his eyes but couldn't muster the energy to be as cold as he had wanted. "I don't know if I'd say your trying to kill me was especially fun."

"Oh please, remember the costumes? You can't tell me you didn't enjoy beating me that night."

Giles looked away. "Ethan. . ."

"The old Ripper came out that night. But then he never really went away, did he? You enjoyed hurting me."

"I was young. You've clung to the mistakes of my youth for decades."

"The mistakes. . . I saw you at your most free. Wild, uncaring, cruel to the world. No refinement but you had a chaos in you I've never been able to rival. A hatred."

"There's no one even left to remember it." Giles said quietly.

"No, there's not. Only you and me and we're, alone aren't we? No families, no children. No real friends."

For a moment, Ethan looked sad and the old face before him was twisted. "Come on Giles. . . it wasn't for me."

"Then what was? Your chaos gods? Where are they now?"

"That was years ago."

"Yes, a time gone by I suppose. We're old men now, no matter how much we hate it."

"I've never hated growing old."

"I was young."

"Yes and you had fun, didn't you? Didn't we?"

"Ethan I was so young. . ." He pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Don't be like them old friend. Don't be boring. It's the worst thing a person can be. I'm dying and I've got more life in me than they ever had."

"Ethan, you hurt people."

"Yes, and you did too."

"Pointles. . .?"

"So much wasted. You spent so long pretending. Being one of them when you never really were. "

"I don't know what you think I was. I grew up. I stopped being selfish."

"I was a child. People grow up."

"Ethan you're dying, I don't want to talk about this."

"Then what do you want to talk about? My illness? My health? Because I don't."

"I don't know what you want from me."

Ethan paused. "It's lonely dying. The children never visit."

Giles raised his eyebrows in pity. "Mine do, Ethan."

"Yes, yours do." He snorted. "You didn't do badly did you? That girl, that Slayer. . . I knew you loved her. I could tell. In the way only a father could."

"I do love her. She's grown into a more wonderful woman than I could have ever hoped. I doubt even half of that's because of me."

"Probably not." Ethan laughed. Giles let it slide as the man's own bad humor. "I liked playing with you Ripper. We had our fun."

"Well, the sordid dealings of two old men are meant to be forgotten. Give it two generations and we'll be only a blip in history. Hardly worth mentioning if anyone remembers at all."

"I would have thought that would have bothered you."

Ethan shrugged and Giles realized just how old he looked. Somehow, he was still seeing the boy he had first known. He wondered if Ethan felt the same. "I always try not to be predictable."

"An annoying habit."

"You once found it not so."

"Yes, and I was young and stupid."

Ethan smiled slightly. "You don't give me much, Ripper but I'll take the bones I can get."

"That's all your getting. Let it die Ethan. Let the past die. All of your tricks and all of my mistakes. No one needs to remember them."

"We're on death's door, Rupert and you're still ashamed."

"Our friends died."

"Yes, and I've made peace with that."

"It's not about making peace. You continued to use black magic."

"I worship chaos. I always have."

"Ethan, why did you call me here? To tell me you're dying? To bring up the past? It's pointless. I'm not who I was when I was sixteen and neither are you. Just die with dignity."

Ethan scowled. "Die with dignity? There's no dignity in death. I mean I'm sure there will be for you but I don't want it."

"Then I can't help you."

Giles was startled and he looked around to see if anyone was watching. "I-I don't. . ."

"How very gloomy. never really gave them much thought, so long as they weren't telling me what to do." Giles allowed a small smile.

"Your hatred for being told what to do was always magnificent I doubt the young people today have that fire."

"Yes well. . . the world's passed to them. It isn't ours anymore."

"I don't particularly feel inclined to let it go. . ." Ethan huffed.

"I don't think we get a choice."

"I hate being old. My back hurts, my fingers don't work as well as they used to. I'm always cold. What have you got the cane for?"

"My knees aren't what they used to be."

"Horrid. Do you remember the song? Roger Daltrey, Hope I die before I get old? What was it called? The Who sang it?"

"My Generation." Giles smiled faintly.

"Do you think any of these people know that song?"

Giles glanced around. "Perhaps one or two."

"You were always good with a guitar. I'm not saying you were Clapton but you were quite good."

Ethan made a slight face but nodded. "I suppose."

"Give it time."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"You getting' in or not?" The cabbie snapped, pulling him from his trance.

He coughed slightly and climbed in. Ethan had evaded death.

#rupert giles #ethan rayne #fanfiction #fanfic #angst #old friends #arguing #magic #trickery #old age #life #ao3 #archive of our own #chaos #friendship #drinking #plot twist #one shot #complete

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anharmlessguest · 5 years ago

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My C.A.R

The differences between culture as it spans across generations are clearly highlighted by the films, The Farewell and The Debut. Times change, but people are often resistant to change. People naturally gravitate towards the familiar, and as a result they do not adapt to culture as it shifts. Once the new generation comes with their unfamiliar beliefs and practices, the gap is created. However, despite these differences, there can still be similarities. Both The Farewell and The Debut have these similarities as major plot points.

In The Farewell, Nai Nai clearly does not have a very good opinion of Aiko, Hao Hao's fiancee who only speaks Japanese. She complains about the flaws she perceives in her directly in front of Aiko, knowing that she does not speak Chinese. This conflicts with Billi, who does not think her perceived flaws are important. The entire interaction shows a distinction between the older generation and the newer one - The newer generation is far more tolerant than the older generation.

Billi's disagreement over the fact that everyone is hiding the fact that Nai Nai is terminally ill from her leads to a clash between her and the rest of her family. She believes that her grandmother has the right to know, but everyone else insists that it must be kept a secret. She discusses this with her uncle, who directly tells her of the difference between the American style individualism that Billi was raised with, versus the Chinese collectivism that everyone else in the family is used to. The older generation was raised to always consider the group first, contrasting the younger generation that was raised to always consider individuals first.

Another example of individualism versus collectivism in the film is the older generation's obsession with breeding new spawn. As soon as a handsome young doctor showed up to give Nai Nai her (false) diagnosis of health, I immediately knew what was up. Without skipping a beat, his marital status was immediately asked and when he stated he was not married, Nai Nai suggested he get together with Billi. Of course, both of them were rather uncomfortable with such a sudden suggestion, as they were of the younger generation that did not consider such matchmaking to be appropriate.

On the other hand, the similarity between the two generations is their tendency to tell lies to each other in order to alleviate worries. At the beginning of the film, both Billi and Nai Nai lie about where they are so they do not worry about each other. Later, Nai Nai lies about her state of health, even as she takes a visit to the hospital, in order to prevent her family from being worried about her. Billi falsifies a health report, so that the illusion that Nai Nai is healthy can be kept up. It is even revealed that Nai Nai once lied to her own deceased husband about his terminal illness, ironically mirroring her current situation. As a result of keeping up with the lie, Billi is never able to say her final farewells to her grandmother (though in the end it is revealed that Nai Nai survived her terminal illness).

The Debut much more clearly emphasizes the conflict between the older and the younger generation. Ben clashes with his father Roland over what he wants. He is harshly criticized by his father for his desires, which is likely what distances him from the rest of his family as he does not want to associate with them when they do not support him. In the end, however, he is able to reconcile his differences with his father.

Ben wants to go to CalArts, while Roland intends for him to accept a scholarship to UCLA so he can become a doctor. In fact, Ben's parents even try to force him into the role by falsely telling others that he intends to become a doctor. Ben seems to regularly get into fights with his father over this, as the time he spends practicing his drawings infuriates Roland. In addition, Ben wants to go to a house party with his friends, but the party is occurring at the same time as his sister's traditional debutante. He attends his sister's birthday party, but after another argument with his father he decides to abandon the debutante so he can join his friends for the other party.

Eventually, after Ben returns to his sister's birthday party, he gets into trouble with his former childhood friend Augusto. The two fight, but the fight is broken up and Augusto is discovered to have been carrying a gun. Ben's grandfather, the family patriarch, witnesses this. After the party is over, Roland is himself harshly castigated by his own father for the mistake of inviting Augusto and his parents to the party, showing a similarity across generations. It is revealed that Roland was once a budding singer, who gave up his dreams and become a postman so that he could start a family in America, and that Roland's father had wished for him to take a different path as well. Roland is labelled an embarrassment to the family by his father, which seems to be a catalyst for a change in his stance on Ben's wish to become an artist.

Lastly, there is a theme of racism in the Debut, which is portrayed in a negative light. Augusto's stepfather is a white American man, and it is shown that Augusto shows no respect towards him. Others at the party gossip about Augusto's mother for being with a white man. Furthermore, Augusto taunts Ben for being a "sellout" that only hangs out with white people, which is what starts their fight in the first place. Even at the end of the film, two of Augusto's friends get into a fight with each other, with one complaining that Filipinos who were raised in the Philippines and came to America with their customs are only making the Filipinos who were born in America look bad.

Ben and Roland's disagreement over Ben's choice of career most likely stems from the poverty that the older generation faced when they first came to America. As a postman, Roland did not have a very impressive income. He had to slowly crawl his way out of poverty, and even now that he is a successful adult with a family, he is still notably poorer than the kids of the new generation. He laments that he cannot afford the fancy cars that they have, and that he cannot afford a proper debutante ball for his daughter (which his father later berates him over). Meanwhile, Ben never had to worry about starvation, and his father is frustrated that he does not take the threat of poverty as seriously as he does. Roland simply wants Ben to have a stable and lucrative job so that he can enjoy life, while Ben would prefer to have a job that he can enjoy life with. A similar discussion is had in The Farewell, where Billi's aunt Yuping has a discussion with Billi's mother Lu Jian over whether life in America or China are superior. Yuping, a member of the older generation in the sense that she was raised to live in China, emphasizes the economic opportunities of China. Lu Jian, on the other hand, has spent a significant amount of time in America, and emphasizes that America offers the opportunity for one to follow their dreams.

Nai Nai's disapproval of Aiko and the racism in the Debut are examples of the older generation's views on interracial relationships, which themselves are caused by xenophobia and colonialism. Two older women believe Augusto's mother thinks too highly of herself for being married to a white man, and this is likely a belief that stems from Spanish colonization of the Philippines. Spanish settlers were no doubt wealthier than the native Filipinos, and as such it would be considered fortunate to marry into a white family since that would grant one access to their wealth. Obviously, this belief would survive across the centuries. Meanwhile, the Chinese are famously xenophobic. This stems from their own Imperialism during China's history, as China had always dominated Asia. The Chinese believe that they are the best in the world, and that other cultures are inferior. During the Imperial age of China, their neighbor countries were always forced to pay tribute to the Emperor, and everyone outside of China was considered a barbarian. While these days family members will not stop you from marrying a non-Chinese person, they will likely consider that person an outsider.

The war between individualism and collectivism is an endless one, and mirrors the cultural clash between the West and the East. The East is very old, and the Confucian teaching of filial piety has heavily reinforced the idea of collectivism - That one should always sacrifice themself for the sake of others. Meanwhile, the West is new. The ideas of individualism were founded in the Enlightenment, specifically the ideal of Liberty - That one should be free to do as they please. The East never truly embraced that ideal, and since the two ideas are nigh incompatible, a conflict exists.

I myself empathize with the protagonists of both films. In terms of The Farewell, I would most certainly like to know if my death was coming, because it would give me time to come to terms with it so I can enjoy the rest of my days in peace. But more than that, I've personally experienced or personally witnessed just about every single issue I've brought up in this blog.

The first is the lying. When I was young, whenever I received hongbao my mother would confiscate them and take the money, saying that she was saving it for my college fund. I trusted her better judgement, and since I wasn't allowed to spend my money anyways I let her keep them. In reality, she was just giving the hongbao to other kids so that she wouldn't have to make them herself. Meanwhile, I was constantly lying about my grades to my parents because if I told them I had bad grades, I'd get in trouble. And I had mediocre grades pretty often. I wouldn't get anything for telling the truth either, so there was no incentive to do so.

Multiple members of the younger generation in my family have experienced the disapproval over interracial relationships. One of my cousins has a homosexual relationship with a white woman, and my family barely even acknowledges her existence. Another one of my cousins is engaged to a white man, and at family gatherings none of the older generation really interact with him besides my cousin's parents. Meanwhile, obviously Asian outsiders who are in relationships with family members are asked all sorts of questions, as if they are being probed before they join the family.

I have also additionally experienced the older generation's obsession with the younger generation being in relationships. Of course, the older generation tended to get married sooner - The people of the older generation tended to get married at a younger age, so it's understandable for them to question us on the status of our relationships when we're at the age that they married at. When I was a teenager I was considered to be very handsome by all the middle-aged ladies of my family (I don't know why they don't think I'm handsome anymore, but I'm not particularly interested in being considered attractive to a bunch of older women anyways) and they were always asking me whether I had a girlfriend or not. It literally got so bad that they started asking me if I was gay (I am not). When I visited Japan, my father needed to get some medicine, so he visited a Japanese pharmacy. He does not speak Japanese, but he does speak English, and a worker at the pharmacy was very helpful to him because she also spoke some English. He was so impressed with her that he asked if she was single and if she wanted to be introduced to my unmarried older brother. My father is also constantly otherwise trying to introduce other unmarried women to my older brother through his network of friends. It is very embarrassing, but it did give me a sense of what's about to immediately happen if you're moderately attractive and a person of the older generation even so much as compliments you.

Lastly, the conflict that Ben had with his father Roland really hit close to home. Ben wants to become an artist, while Roland gave up his dreams of being a singer so he could come to America and give his son the opportunity to become a Doctor. I too, would just like to pursue my hobbies and possibly even make money off of them, while my father gave up his dreams of being a singer, a scientist, a politician, and a general so that he could come to America and give his children the opportunity to get PhDs. He complains to us that he's the only one in his circle of friends who only has a Master's degree and not a PhD. Fortunately, my father has come to terms with the fact that it's way too late for any of us to get a PhD, and that he will have to settle for computer scientists, accountants, and pharmacists.

#aas218midsem #AAS218RaymondA

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thelamppoststation · 6 years ago

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Future’s Past by TheLampPost

In 2008, a year after James managed to get off that godforsaken rock, he receives a visit from a young woman with blue eyes and blonde hair. She hands him a locket and a letter, then demands answers to questions that he didn’t even know existed. Post season 6 (Suliet) - This story is also partly set during the DHARMA days.

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Chapter 2: The Plan

DHARMA Initiative: Sonar Fence, July 1975

She started across the field at a brisk pace, but by the time she got to the path beyond the bushes she'd broken into a run. A sudden wave of nausea twisted her insides into knots, and she couldn't help but wonder if it was due to her newly discovered condition or genuine nerves. This could not be happening. Not to her. Not after all she'd done to prevent exactly this type of scenario from coming to pass. Hell if she'd ever deliver a baby on this island again. Hell if it ever be her own.

When the pylons sprung into view, she stopped. The giant misshapen percussion bells on concrete sticks of terror stood tall and proud across the field in all of their youthful glory, not quite made for musical bliss, but blissfully fulfilling a purpose that kept people as arrested as would a theatre filled audience. Different purpose, same effect.

She crouched down, and flipped the lid on the data pad. Funny how the code was always the same, no matter what decade: 1623.

"What do you think you're doing?"

She whirled around. What the–?

"Miles!"

Where in the hell had he come from? He looked straight at her, narrowed eyes darkening the core of his black pupils, he looked almost threatening, and a familiar tightness settled in her chest, spread all the way down to her spine and back up her arms. She hadn't been on the receiving end of this much blatant mistrust in a long time.

"You scared me," she said, and smiled.

"Where are you going, Juliet?" he wasted no time.

She shrugged, hoping for it to come across as casual.

"I thought I saw something on the security monitors, figured I'd check it out. You know how Horace gets if we sound the alarm prematurely."

"Does LaFleur know you're out here?"

"Of course James knows."

Miles narrowed his eyes even further, causing for his already impossibly narrow slits to turn into even sharper ones; it almost reminded her of dark light peeping through the cracks of a badly insulated shed. He wasn't buying it. Damn him for tempting her into playing so much late night Poker. Miles was good at deception, but he was even better at recognising it. He'd been able to figure out all of her tells straight off the bat, and now she didn't have many, if any, left.

"Why are you lying to me?"

"What are you talking about?"

"I saw you," he took a step closer, and she had to suppress the urge to take a step back. "You were nowhere near the observation deck. I only followed you out here because I saw you flail out of the infirmary like a possessed madwoman. What's going on?"

She bit her lip.

"Look Miles, even if I told you; you wouldn't understand."

"Well," Miles crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Let's see what LaFleur'll have to say about that then."

He reached for his walkie, but before he could so much as pull the device from his pocket she'd already launched herself at him, pinning him to the ground with two hands above his head.

"What the actual fuck, Juliet!" he trashed against her, but she had a good grip on him, her weight pressing down hard on his lower abdomen. Maybe, if he had been a little heavier, or more muscular like James, he would have been able to break free, but Miles was about as scrawny as a malnourished field mouse.

"Get off me!"

"You don't want to do this, Miles!"

She gave him a hard look.

"They'll have seen you on the monitors by now anyway," he said. "I wouldn't be surprised if LaFleur is already on his way!"

She tightened her grip on his wrists.

"It would take them at least five more minutes to get here," she said. "Look, Miles, you're my friend and I really, really do not want to hurt you, but if you don't let this go, you'll leave me no choice."

He stopped, and stared, his eyes nearly popping out of his skull.

"You're serious?!"

She gave a curt nod.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me! Fine!" he slackened. "Go, then! You fucking Hilary Swank wannabe. See if I care."

She pulled his walkie from his pocket, and slipped it into her own jumpsuit before rolling off of him. He let out a loud, ever so exaggerated, cry.

"Why are you doing this?" he demanded, rubbing his wrists where red marks had already formed around them. She bit her lip.

"I'm sorry about that."

"Oh really? You're sorry?!" he spat. "LaFleur'll have a field day when you get back!"

"Please, don't tell him."

"You expect me to lie after you nearly broke my neck just now?"

She rolled her eyes.

"Hardly."

He let out a derisive snort.

"Yeah? Well, tell that to my impending hernia!"

Leave it up to Miles to add a side dish of drama to an already tense situation.

"If I'd wanted to break your neck, I would have."

"Well, THAT," he pointed at her. "That's a real comfort, thanks Juliet! I'll be sure to pass that along to the DHARMA folks at the next town meeting."

For all of his sarcasm she did feel guilty. Over the past year they'd become allies, friends even. Jin, Miles and James, the most unlikely group of people to have ever met and band together. Yet, over time, they'd all turned into more than just collateral casualties of time travel. If there was anyone she could trust it should be Miles, but there was just too much at stake. If she told him about her plans, then he'd tell James, and that would lead to more questions, and then accusations. She might even have time to stop and think, rethink. She couldn't risk that.

But then, maybe; she could throw him some breadcrumbs, some food for thought to chew on. It would give her a reasonable head start.

"Come," she said, holding out her hand. He took it, albeit reluctantly; she pulled him to his feet.

"I'm going out there to find Richard."

"Eyeliner Tarzan?"

She shook her head, that was almost amusing.

"You've been spending too much time with James."

"Says you."

"Excuse me?"

"You think that Jin and I would think that all of those bumps in the night we hear is just your furniture coming to life and humping itself? Which by the way–" He froze, catching her impending look of doom.

"One more word, just one more", her eyes threatened.

He cleared his throat, inching a calculated step backward.

"Why do you need to talk to Richard?" he changed the subject.

"Miles," the threat not completely gone from her eyes. "Just make sure that James doesn't follow me."

"Can't stop that guy from doing anything he doesn't want to do. Or, well… technically, wants to do."

He sniggered, amused by his own disaster of a joke, and she took that opportunity to slip between the pillars; as expected the pylons remained compliantly oblivious to her frame. Thank God for small mercies.

"Then stall him!" she threw over her shoulder.

"Whatever!" he yelled after her.

No matter his tone, she trusted Miles to be discreet. None of them should want to be stupid enough to ever risk their cover being blown, and besides where else could they go? Everything depended upon them keeping up appearances. Miles would reactivate the fence the moment she'd gone, and even though he denied it now, he would lie for her; if only for a couple of hours.

She sprinted down the overgrown path, twigs and leaves already sticking to her jumpsuit.

She'd better find Richard soon.

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The Jungle, July 1975

When James had first asked her about eyeliner Benjamin Button, she hadn't quite known how to respond. Before the 815 crash, Ben had only ever referred to Richard as his advisor, or the island's intermediator.

To her, Richard had simply been the mysterious man who'd first recruited her, and then delivered her to Ben as would a postman a package. Afterwards she only ever saw him sporadically. He preferred to live with another group at the Temple, a remote place in the jungle that even the D.I. had had a hard time locating in their day. But whenever he wasn't at the Temple he would intermittently show up at the barracks carrying perfectly symmetrically folded pieces of parchment paper; "Orders from Jacob", Ben would say.

The first time she heard that name, she'd asked:

"Jacob? Who's Jacob?" Ben had been evasive at first, but clear in his reply "Jacob protects the island; he protects us."

What Jacob was protecting them from, he wouldn't say. Instead, Ben would often talk about vague miracles and electromagnetic energy. She soon found out that they all looked to Jacob as worshippers would to a deity. She looked to Ben a lot back then, as he seemed to hold most of the answers in that regard, but after a while he started to misinterpret her intentions, invading her privacy in a manner that reminded her of how Edmund used to corner her out of nowhere.

Alarm bells screeched ear damagingly loud; she distanced herself from Ben, and turned to the others instead. She asked Amelia about the DHARMA stations, Harper about the Initiative, Ethan about the Sonar Fence and the submarine, but it wasn't until she asked Goodwin about the strange noises in the night that she finally received a truthful answer. "I'll show you," he said. The following day he took her out into the jungle, where they both silently watched an immense pillar of black smoke rise up and down into the air, moving about like a creature out of a horror movie.

She stopped asking questions after that, realizing that whatever was going on on the island didn't abide by any of the natural laws of the universe that she'd been taught to acknowledge rationally. The revelation didn't deter her inquisitive mind, though. So, without permission, she started looking for answers elsewhere. She rummaged through poorly conserved documents, discovered secret underground passageways, and abandoned DHARMA stations; still, whatever had happened to the D.I. remained a mystery that even she couldn't solve on her own. It wasn't until Alex took her out into the jungle, after a particularly heated argument with her father, that Juliet was finally able to lay that question to rest. Against Ben's explicit orders, Alex had shown her a pit filled with twisted curiosities that turned out to be decomposing bodies in faded navy colored jumpsuits. With a start she realized that it was them, that they'd never left, and had been there all along, so close to the barracks.

Horrified she asked what had happened, Alex replied:

"My father."

Like a homesick child Juliet'd crawled into bed that night, craving her sister's comfort more than ever. As she closed her eyes, she imagined that melodic voice soothing her; the feel of familial arms protecting her from the monsters that used to live in her bedroom closet when she was a little girl. For a moment she was eight again, and her sister her protector.

For months, she'd clung to those memories like a drowning woman to air, and with each new burning breath she watched herself drift further from the shores of that longed for existence, until one day, the image on the horizon curved and her sister dropped from view completely.

By 2002, Ben had her bound to an unbreakable promise, a chain and ball shackled to her soul. Goodwin taught her how to mask her longings, tempering her burning desire for home. And while, like a parasite, Ben continued to try to worm his way into her heart, (often dropping by unannounced with wild flower bouquets and Belgium chocolate) she taught herself to carefully stave off his advances, until she could stave them off no more.

Between 2001 and 2004, she lost nine women to a nameless invader that dragged her to the edge of insanity. It left no traceable data for her to analyse, and for months, she ploughed waist deep through a disease filled swamp of misery and despair. She located its entrance into the body, she watched how it tore through her patients, and she knew when it killed, but she remained blind to where it housed. All she could determine with absolute certainty was that it was happening, and that there was nothing she could do about it. And while over time, the memories of those nine wounds turned into rough skinned scars, any thoughts that she might have had of Richard slipped through the cracks of her subconscious, not to resurface until 1974.

Who was eyeliner Benjamin Button? James's guess was as good as hers.

She returned her attention to the road ahead, where she'd been trampling through bramble bushes, and wadding through clear water brooks for the past hour. She made sure to keep her estimated guess of the Temple's location on her right, while taking careful stock of her surroundings on her left, moving about with extreme stealth; the way she'd been taught to move about by them. It had become second nature to her now, like falling down and standing back up. But then, so had lying, cheating and manipulating her way out of impossible situations. There were moments, like these, when that realization hit her hard. She hadn't always been like this. In fact, she wasn't anything like the woman she used to know. That person had had morals, integrity, and no backbone whatsoever. It seemed like decades ago, but it had only been four short years since she'd last behaved like Edmund's string puppet, a lapdog with no discernible purpose. Not anymore. She'd learned her lessons the hard way: to lead or to be led, to harm or to be harmed, and to kill or to be killed.

She looked up, the wind had changed; she was close now. As another minute past she caught soft whispers, the kind that used to include hers. Pots clinging together, the crackle of a midday fire, the swishing of fabric, hands clapping, laughter. She stepped closer: shouting, more laughter; the careless rustle and bustle of people living their lives.

She could see them now, and for a moment she watched them from behind overgrown bushes. She crouched closer, twigs bending under the weight of her fingertips, but not snapping. She was more careful than that.

To her surprise, she recognized a lone woman next to a boiling cauldron that stood perched in the middle of the camp. A young Amelia. Pensively, she stirred the pot, cooking what smelled like a mixture of island vegetables and boar meat. A little to her left a young girl sat crossed legged in front of a boy, playing a clapping game. She couldn't quite make out their faces, but she briefly wondered about their names, if she knew them –would know them. There were more people, young and old. Some she recognised, others that had either died or left long before her arrival. Also, more children that would grow up to be vague acquaintances or book club participants.

She suppressed the urge to flee, deterring the heart racing expectation that foreshadowed her presence; the image powerful enough to change her mind. She rose slowly, then stepped out into the open with bold determination, her hands held high up above her head, one foot in front of the other. It was a stupid move. They were unpredictable and much more dangerous than their future counterparts.

She took another step closer, a branch snapped in two. Their reaction immediate: eyes turned on her at an inhuman speed, silence muzzled the buoyant atmosphere. Various threatening clicks snapped into place, weapons balanced high upon army trained arms. She counted five men swiftly closing in on her.

"Who are you?!" one yelled.

Why are you breaking the truce?" another demanded.

She turned to look at each of them, he wasn't among them.

"I need to speak to the person in charge."

They laughed; the echoes of their derisive mirth pressing down on her courage.

"I don't think you're in any position to be making demands, lady."

She really wasn't, but that didn't stop her from staring down a very young Tom Friendly. He couldn't be much older than twenty-five. Once, her superior in age and status, now her junior in years as well as knowledge. This was strange. Would he recognise her 26 years from now? Was that why he'd always been so nice to her? Because he knew?

"Stand down!" a rough accented voice suddenly cut through the group. Every face in the clearing turned, but Juliet had a hard time tearing her eyes away from Tom.

She'd never meant for him to die. If only she could warn him somehow, forge a connection through time and prevent a bad future outcome from coming to pass. "Whatever happened, happened", Daniel's voice thundered through her mind. Did her Tom know that she was the one who would end up digging his grave? Young Tom's riffle pointed straight at her, would he be the one digging hers? Would it come full circle, right here? Right now?

"What have we here?"

She forced her eyes away. A woman, roughly her own age and similar in looks, approached the group.

"Who are you?" she demanded.

Juliet blinked, confused, her mind half on Tom still.

"Where's Richard?" she blurt out.

The woman sniggered.

"Richard? What makes you think he'd want to speak to the likes of you?" affirming whispers, and nodding figures stepped up behind the woman.

"He'd want to know I'm here."

"He'd want to know you are here?"

Their amusement peaked.

"And what, pray tell, makes a DHARMA puppet such as yourself so special that Richard'd want to know?"

DHARMA puppet? She hadn't heard that one before. But if evidence was what they wanted, then she had nothing to worry about. They seared it onto her skin for a reason, after all.

"Check my back," she said.

"What?"

"My lower back, check it."

The woman's expression shifted, a concoction of amusement and disdain spawning forth some mild interest that stretched to the curving of her brows.

She looked at Tom.

"You heard the woman,"she shrugged. "Check her back, Tom."

Tom nodded.

"Unzip," he demanded.

Juliet compliantly pulled her jumpsuit down to her waist, revealing a white tank top underneath; with the barrel of his rifle Tom pushed the fabric up, and as the mark that lay seared upon her skin sprung into view, the tension in the air shifted once more.

Sharp intakes of breath seemed to suck the oxygen straight from the surrounding trees, travelling all around and down the wide clearing.

"Who gave that to you?" the woman asked, turning a whiter shade of pale as her eyes darted from Tom to the others.

"Let me talk to Richard first," Juliet repeated.

"Who gave you that mark?!"

"I'll tell Richard!" she countered.

"Tell me!"

"No!"

Her eyes darkened, and before Juliet could comprehend what happened next Tom had already slammed the butt of his rifle into her lower back. With a loud cry she crashed to her knees, rough hands pulled her up by her hair, and as the pain shot through her head and down her back it was hard to focus; the feeling similar to that of hundred needles sticking through her skull all at once. She looked up, the butt of another riffle hanging suspended in mid-air, aimed straight at her stomach. Reflexively she put her arms out, protecting that which she couldn't stand to lose.

"No! Stop!" she begged, her voice hoarse. "I'm pregnant!"

The man hesitated, his rifle poised, held back only by sheer doubt. He looked to the woman in charge.

"I'm one of you!" Juliet cried out, anger temporarily casting out all rational thought.

The woman motioned for the others to stand down, and Juliet heavily dropped to the ground, her heart hammering against her ribcage at a painful speed. She couldn't be sure of what she would have done if the man hadn't hesitated, but she sure as hell knew that the outcome wouldn't have been in his favor.

"You're no more one of us than any traitor who bears that mark will ever be again."

"At least it shows that at some point, I was one of you," she wheezed.

"A fleur-de-lis is hardly an original mark."

"Yet," she took in a painfully slow, but controlled breath. "This design is unique, and you know it."

The woman's upper lip quivered, extreme agitation forming around the corners of her mouth.

"Richard!" she called, never breaking eye-contact.

It was then that Juliet recognised her, the intense icy blues, the thick British accent. This had to be the famed Eloise Hawking. For some reason she'd always pictured her to be taller, and broader. The type of woman who enjoyed deer hunting and hammer throwing on early Sunday mornings right before dawn broke through the night. She'd imagined a wild tempered shark. But this? No. Not this. Eloise was slim, petite even, moving about with the same grace as a proud lioness. A hunter by nature, always with her pride in mind, nothing like a shark. Yet, the lines about her eyes mirrored Juliet's own mask, hiding an intense past filled with contradictions. Maybe, in another life, they would have been friends.

"Who's this?"

Richard appeared as summoned, popping into view like a genie out of a bottle. He looked exactly the same. He always looked the same. They locked eyes, and Juliet felt a shiver run down her spine. Bizarre, just bizarre.

"She bears the mark," Eloise barked. "How can she bear the mark?"

Richard looked confused, not quite comprehending what Eloise was referring to, but as he studied Juliet there lay sudden recognition in his eyes. It betrayed a thought, as though he'd been waiting for something like this to happen.

"What mark?"

"Our fleur-de-lis."

He stepped closer, Tom lifted Juliet's top again, stepping even closer Richard bend down, lightly touching the mark, his fingers cold on her skin.

"How is this possible?" he asked, looking up at Tom.

The young man stammered, but Richard shook his head, and waved him away.

"Where did you get this?" he said, for the first time really looking at her. "This is a very particular mark. Who gave this to you?"

"Jacob," she lied.

"What did you say?" a slow staccato punctuated each word.

"I want to talk to Jacob."

He studied her closely, his eyes burning holes into her skin. He knew more, much, much more.

"Take her to my tent," he ordered.

"What are you doing?" Eloise demanded.

"I need to talk to this woman in private."

"That's against the rules of the truce!"

"Jacob wants it so."

"How in the hell–"

"Eloise!" Richard cut off. "Trust me."

Juliet was sure that if Eloise had had fangs Richard surely would have fallen victim to her seething rage by now. But she stood her ground, respecting the wishes of a deity whose existence she probably had to take on faith as much as Ben had had to.

Firm hands guided her past Eloise, and the woman gave her one last foul look in passing.

Once inside Richard motioned for her to sit, then turned to the men behind her.

"Leave us," he ordered.

"I don't think–"

"I really don't care what you think, Brian. Leave us, now!"

Brian muttered something incomprehensible under his breath, but did as told, motioning for the other man to follow suit.

"What's your name?" Richard asked, once they'd left.

"My name?"

"Yes, you have one, I trust?"

"Yes, of course."

"Well?"

"Juliet."

"Last name?"

"Carlson."

"Carlson?" he frowned.

"Burke," she corrected. "Look, I–"

"Juliet Burke," Richard continued.

She stopped, rendered somewhat speechless by the interruption and this strange obsession with her name.

"You know what's funny, Juliet?"

Richard turned around, and sat down on the cot in front of her; the bed creaking beneath his weight as he pensively leaned forward on his arms.

"Two days ago, Jacob appeared to me," she sat up straighter; a pounding pain shooting through her back; she ignored it.

"He told me the strangest thing. Jacob said, that in a couple of days time, I should expect a woman by the name of Juliet Burke to come striding straight through the jungle into our camp, demanding to see him."

She stared, unmoved.

"Exactly, like you did just now," he paused. "Isn't that a funny coincidence?"

"I don't know what to tell you," she said, chilled by the thought of predestination. Although, by now she'd learned that there really was no such thing as a linear passage of time. She was living proof of that.

"No, I didn't think you would. But Jacob gave me a note," from his chest pocket he pulled a perfectly symmetrically folded piece of parchment paper, her name written in the centre in indelible ink, Jacob's ink.

She reached for it, but Richard held onto it, forcing her to look up to where his eyes met hers.

"I'm to go with you," he said.

"Go where?"

"Wherever it is you plan on going."

He let go of the note.

With trembling fingers, she unfolded it.

Jacob's message was short, poetic even:

"You may leave, But only once. Return, and you are to stay.

Choose wisely, Juliet.

Richard will show you the way."

- Jacob

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A/N: I know it took me a while to get this chapter up! I'm sorry! I always try to be as detailed and coherent as possible in my writing, and this one took a lot of time to figure out. I love writing from Juliet's POV, though! She's so incredibly complex, and I wanted to bring that to live more in this chapter. Hope it shows!

I decided to change the title of the story, because I just wasn't happy with it. I personally think that this new title does the story more justice; I just hope that changing it didn't make it too hard for you guys to find the story again. I promise, the title won't change again. This is it.

I also wanted to respond to the Guest who left a review on this story on ff.

First of all, thank you so much for your kind and encouraging words. I hope you'll continue to enjoy this story, and I truly appreciate the kind of detailed review that you left! I always love to hear what goes on in the minds of those who read my stories. Thank you for that! And also, yes the summary might give away a bit much, but it also only reveals the tip of the iceberg of what I've got in mind for this story! The true purpose of the summary was to create an expectation. I'm actually very curious to know what you think it means! But all in all, even if it means what you think it means, there's a lot more to it than just that one storyline/chapter. Ha! I hope I'm making sense!

Anyway, thank you all for reading this story. Hope to see you again in the next chapter!

#Juliet Burke #James Ford #Sawyer #Miles Straume #Lost #Suliet #Lost Fanfiction #Jin-Soo Kwon #Daniel Faraday #DHARMA Initiative #1975 #Juliet Carlson #Richard Alpert #Eloise Hawking #the Others #Hostiles #Chapter 2 #Future's Past #TheLampPost

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